There, mingled with the fish upon the surface of the snow, lay a heap of bright silver dollars--not one, but ten, twenty--a hundred or more, with three or four bags beside the pile, evidently filled with the same sort of coin. CHAPTER VII. A STILL GREATER CRIME UNEARTHED. Detective Hook stared at the strange sight before him in dumb amazement. There could be no question concerning the genuineness of the coins displayed before him among the masses of frozen fish scattered over the snow-covered walk. They were silver dollars, and bran new ones at that, as fresh as on the day which they left the coiner's hands. Meanwhile, the man who had borne this most singular variety of fish had disappeared around the corner of Cherry street with all possible speed, as had the two boys but a moment before, never pausing even to look behind him, to all appearance utterly heedless of the loss of his coin. "Well, upon my word, this is a night of adventures for a positive fact," muttered Hook, stooping down and examining this singular find. "There's something crooked here, or I'm no judge; and as I could not catch those boys if I tried, I had best----" "Hello! What's this?" he added, half aloud, examining each of the unbroken bags of dollars in turn. "Webster National Bank, as I'm a sinner, stamped on the bottom of each of these bags. Here's some of the plunder now--there can be no mistake about that." It was even as he said. Upon each bag, in plain black letters, the name of the Webster Bank was plainly stamped. Without a word he seized the basket and emptied out the remainder of the fish on the snow. Two other bags of smaller size appeared, one evidently containing gold. Meanwhile several persons, early purchasers in the Catherine Market, had stopped to gaze upon the strange sight of a well-dressed man picking dollars out of the snow, for the detective was now tossing into the basket the contents of the broken bag, placing the others upon the top of the shining heap thus formed. "Here, officer," he exclaimed, beckoning to a policeman who now suddenly appeared, bustling out of the side door of the market opposite with an air of authority, which suddenly changed into one of meekness as he recognized in the man before him one of the most noted detectives on the New York force. "I want you to take charge of these. Take them to the Oak street station. They are part of the haul made in a down-town bank last night." The words were spoken in a tone calculated to reach the officer's ears alone, while the little crowd which had now gathered around stood staring wonderingly on. "Very good, Mr. Hook," replied the policeman, nervously. "I just went inside the market for a moment to----"