At this time every Anarchist resort was watched very closely. I told the private to ascertain where the stranger lived, but he must not push himself too rapidly forward; he must make an engagement to meet the man in the evening and stay with him as late as possible. Just as soon as they parted, he was to double back on the stranger and follow him. A few nights later the private reported again and said that they had been together one evening for three hours, when they parted on the corner of Madison and Canal Streets. He told the stranger that he would go back to the South Side, and then, by following him after parting, he found that the stranger started north. The man turned on Lake Street west and entered No. 71 West Lake Street, one of the worst Anarchist resorts in the city. This place was kept by a man named Florus, a rank “red.” The private waited for his friend to come out, remaining in the vicinity until Florus closed his saloon; but no one came. The next day the private reported the facts to me, and said that the stranger evidently had a room at Florus’ house. I told the private to try and get the stranger on the North Side so that I could have a look at him. He started out to hunt up his friend. On the evening of that same day, detective No. 2 reported. He said that he had a fellow spotted whom he described as one of a gang that had come from St. Paul. He remarked that the fellow was very sharp, but not sharp enough for him. He also stated that the stranger appeared to like him, but that he did not trust him very much. No. 2 further said: “I have been around with him every evening. He is very good company, and I am sure that he is an Anarchist. But I can’t get at his motives.” I then told him to get the man up here on the North Side where I would be able to see him. “All right, but you want to get a good look at him; the fellow changes his clothes often. He is a foxy fellow.” I said that I would always be at the station from one to three o’clock, so as to take a look at the man when they passed. [Illustration: THE “SHADOWED” DETECTIVES.] On the next day I was on the look-out, but no one came. The second day I again watched, and, to my great surprise, at two o’clock I saw two fellows, both in my employ, coming east on Chicago Avenue from Wells Street, and on the same side where the station is located. They were engaged in conversation, and neither looked aside as they passed. I got up on the steps of the front entrance and remained there as they came by. They had no sooner got past, when the fellow on the inside lifted his hand to the right hip, and after a few steps further the other fellow put his left hand behind his back and worked his fingers—thus each man giving the tip on the other. They proceeded towards the Water-works.