But Sheriff Kowen did not use his transfer to-night. He made sure that nobody was watching him, and then darted down a side street. He pulled his hat over his eyes, bent his shoulders forward, and walked rapidly down the broad avenue toward the exclusive residential section of the city.
He had a mile to walk. He covered three fourths of it at a good pace, and then slowed down and became more alert. He passed another man on a corner.
"All right, boss," the man whispered.
"All right!" Sheriff Kowen answered.
Kowen went on up the street. He stopped in a dark spot beneath an overhanging tree, and looked at a house in the middle of the block. He knew the property; it belonged to an old estate, and was handled by a well-known real estate firm. For years it had been without a tenant. The investigation made by the deputies during the afternoon had resulted in the information that it had been repaired and leased some three months before to strangers in the city, but people who had exhibited good references.
It was some distance away from the other residences, and the lot was bordered by a high hedge, except in front. It was an ideal location for a fashionable gambling resort.
As Kowen watched, he saw a young man saunter down the street, hesitate a moment, then enter the gate and hurry toward the house.
"Another victim!" Kowen told himself.
Now one of his deputies approached him, keeping in the shadows as much as possible.
"Well?" Kowen snapped.
