"McBirney," continued Garrick, "your emotions, mostly
astonishment, show that you have much to learn in this new
business of modern detection, besides the recovery of stolen
cars."
Garrick had paused for effect again.
"And now we come to the keeper of a nighthawk garage on the West
Side, a man whom they seem to call the Boss. That is getting
higher up. I find that he points, according to this scientific
third degree, to one whom I have for a long time suspected--"
A dull thud startled us.
I turned. A man was lying, face down, on the floor.
Before any of us could reach him, Garrick concluded, "This is the
man who framed up the case against Forbes, who stole Warrington's
car to use to get rid of the body of the informer, Rena Taylor,
because she by her success interfered with his gambling graft, who
wrote the letter to Miss Winslow to injure Warrington because he,
too, was interfering with his graft collection from the gambling
house by threatening to close it up. He committed the arson to
cover up his identity by getting back the letter; he planned and
nearly executed the kidnapping of Miss Winslow in order to hold up
Warrington, and then hid in the country where we ferreted him out,
not far from the very scene of a murderous attack on Warrington
for his brave stand in suppressing gambling--from which this man
was weekly shaking down a huge profit as the price of police
protection of the vice.
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