"The Chief has gone up-state," remarked Garrick, piecing together
the conversation where we had broken into it.
"We had to hustle to make that boat," remarked a voice which I
recognised as that of one of the men.
"But she got off all right, didn't she?"
"Sure--he had the tickets and everything, and her baggage had
already gone aboard."
"That's Lucille, I suppose," supplied Garrick. "No doubt part of
her bribe for getting Miss Winslow into their power was free
passage back to France. We can't stop to take up her case, yet."
"My--but the Chief was mad," continued the voice of the man who
must have been not only a machinist but a chauffeur when occasion
demanded. "He had a package of letters. I don't know what they
were--looked as if they might be from some woman."
"What did he do with them?" asked the Boss in a tone that showed
that he knew something, at least, about them already.
"Why, he was so mad after that fellow Garrick and the other fellow
beat him out, that when we went down along West Street to the boat
with that other woman, he tore them up and threw them in the
river.
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