"On a lay?"

"Yes."

"Wish you good luck, old man; tra la."

And d.i.c.k Stanhope bounced into the presence of his Chief with considerable noise and scant ceremony.

Number 46, who, with the stranger beside him, was slowly pacing his beat, lifted his eyes as Vernet emerged from the stairway.

"There comes Vernet, and alone. I'll bet something he's off on a case,"

he said.

"Looks like it."

"He looks more serious than usual; wonder if he's got to work it without Stanhope."

"Do they always pull together?"

"Not always; but they've done their biggest work together. When there's a very knotty case, it's given to Vernet _and_ Stanhope; and they seldom fail."

"Which acts as leader and is the best man of the two?"

"Well, sir, that's a conundrum that no man can guess, not even the Chief. And I don't believe any body ever will know, unless they fall out, and set up an opposition to each other. As for who leads, they both pull together; there's no leader. I tell you what I don't want to see two such splendid fellows fall out; they've worked in double harness a good while. But if the Chief up there wants to see what detectives _can_ do, let him put those two fellows on opposite sides of a case; then he'd see a war of wits that would beat horse-racing."

"Um!" said the stranger, consulting an English repeater, "it's time for me to move on. Is this your regular beat, my friend? Ah! then we may meet again. Good morning, sir."

"That's a queer jockey," muttered No. 46. "When he first came up, I made sure he was looking for the Agency--looking just for curiosity, I reckon."

And the stranger, as he strolled down the street, communed thus with himself:

"So these two star detectives have never been rivals yet. The Chief has never been anxious to see what detectives _can_ do, I suppose. This looks like _my_ opportunity. Messrs. Vernet and Stanhope, _you shall have a chance to try your skill against each other_, and upon a desperate case: and the wit that wins need never work another."

CHAPTER II.

ODDLY EMPLOYED.

While the stranger was thus communing with himself, and while Van Vernet was striding toward that fashionable quarter of the city which contained the splendid Warburton mansion, Richard Stanhope, perched upon one corner of a baize covered table, his hands clasped about one knee, his hat pushed far back upon his head, his whole air that of a man in the presence of a familiar spirit, and perfectly at his ease, was saying to his Chief:

"So you want me to put this business through _alone_? I don't half like it."

"You are equal to it, d.i.c.k."

"I know that," with a proud curve of the firm lips, "but I'm sure Van expected to be in this thing, and--"

"Vernet has another case in hand. I have given him all his time until it is finished, with the privilege of joining you here and a.s.sisting in the Raid to-morrow night, if he can do so without interfering with his other duties. You seem to fear to offend Vernet, d.i.c.k?"

"I _fear_ no one, sir. But Van and I have pulled well together, and divided the honors equally. This Raid, if it succeeds, will be a big thing for the man, or men, engineering it. I know that Van has counted upon at least a share of the glory. I hate to see him lose the chance for it."

"You are a generous friend, d.i.c.k, and Van may rejoice that you _are_ his friend instead of his rival. Now, leaving friendship to take care of itself, do you feel that the _success_ of the Raid depends upon Vernet's a.s.sistance?"

"Perdition! _No._"

"You know the ground?"

"Every inch of it!"

"And Van does not."

"One pilot is enough."

"You know the people?"

"Well, rather!"

"Do you doubt the success of the undertaking?"

"No, sir. I see only one chance for failure."

"And that?"

"I have made this Raid a study. If anything occurs to prevent my leading the expedition, and you put another man at the head, it will fail."

"Even if it be Vernet?"

"Even Vernet. Satan himself would fail in those alleys, unless he knew the ground."

"And yet you would share your honors with Vernet for friendship's sake?

d.i.c.k, you are a queer fish! But why do you suggest a possibility of your absence?"

"Because," sliding off the table and pulling his hat low over his eyes, "The Raid is thirty-six hours distant, and one never knows what may happen in thirty-six hours. Is there any thing else, sir?"

"Yes; I've a dainty bit of mystery for you. No blind alleys and thieves dens in _this_; it's for to-morrow evening, too."

Stanhope resumed his former position upon the corner of the table, pushed back his hat, and turned an attentive face to his Chief.

"Your Raid will not move until a little after midnight; this other business is for ten o'clock. You can be at liberty by eleven. You know Follingsbee, the lawyer?"

"By reputation; yes. Is _he_ in the mystery?"

"He's negotiating for a client; a lady."

"A lady!" with a stare of dismay. "Why didn't you turn her over to Van; you know he is just the man to deal with women, and I--"

"You are afraid of a petticoat! I know; and I might have chosen Vernet, if the choice had been given me. But the lawyer asked for _you_."