"Oh, ho," I answered, "in that event you probably know all about the case."
I then shifted the subject of our conversation, and having learned in advance that my new acquaintance had come to Chicago some years before from a certain town that I was very familiar with, I managed to drift that way without arousing suspicion. He asked, of course, when I was there last, whom I knew, and all about the old place, and the questions being answered to his entire satisfaction, he insisted that we take luncheon together for old time's sake. My friend found it convenient to have an important engagement at this point, so the Secret Service man and myself were left alone.
Another drink was in order, another word or two about the old town, and still another smile. We were good friends by this time. He liked my style and said so, with wonderful frequency, and it was not long before we had formed a mutual admiration society. I admitted, in fact, that since my boyhood days I had always entertained the highest regard for detectives—especially great ones like himself—and went on and related how my youthful mind had been fired by reading tales of the daring achievements of "Old Sleuth," "Hawkshaw," "Sherlock Holmes," Vidocq, and a host of other human ferrets, too numerous to mention.
Still another drink, and we sat down to luncheon, and while waiting for our order, the newspaper, which I had retained in my hand, was again unfolded.
"That Watson woman must be a 'hummer,'" I remarked, by way of opening the conversation.
"More than that," was his prompt reply. "Do you know," he continued, "she is looked upon as one of the cleverest we have ever nabbed. That man Puter, too, is the best ever. Why, sir, he has fooled some of the best men we have over there," nodding his head in the direction of Secret Service headquarters.
"How do you account for it?" I asked.
"No accountin'," he replied.
I had been introduced to him under the name of Lawrence, and the ice having been broken, the story was soon told: How Puter had spent several days in the city, and had, it was believed, visited the Watson woman every day. Of this, he said, they had no positive knowledge, but they did know to a certainty that he managed to shake the detectives wherever and whenever he saw fit, which fact was beyond comprehension, as Puter had no idea he was being trailed. Nevertheless they would lose him in the shufi:le every time.
"Our captain put up with it just so long, but finally lost all patience one night when his operative reported back that Puter had disappeared as if swallowed up by the earth. He described how he had trailed Puter to a certain point, when all trace of the quarry was lost, so the captain decided to supplant this man with another, and later put two of our boys on Puter's trail.
"One of them thought Puter was 'wise,' but the other disagreed with him, and in order to settle the matter, instead of going into Puter's hotel, they stationed themselves at a convenient distance where they could observe everyone going in and out, and at the same time be free from observation.
"They did not have long to wait before their man appeared, and following him at a safe distance, they felt confident of their ability to locate the whereabouts of Mrs. Watson before many hours.. They had reckoned without their host, however, as he vanished like a mirage.
"About two hours later, while sitting in the hotel office, they noticed Puter come in and go up to his room, and from that moment they never lost sight of him, until the next morning when they were relieved and permitted to rest up for the work of another night.
"Now, sir, this is where they get in, or rather, when they locate her hiding-place. When Puter came out of the hotel that night, he held a grip in his hand, and emerged from a side entrance leading- from the basement. It was a sure shot that he was 'wise,' for he walked around for some time before he broughtPage 117
