“Now,” said Davidson,--and he could tell a story well, as I recall,--“Seymour and me are on a case of embezzlement by a clerk in a Wall Street broker’s office, and we’ve got some of the securities back. The question is, will you help us out?” “Too glad, if only I can,” was the friend’s answer; “but the thing is how?” “Easy, very easy,” replied Davidson; “and in this manner--” Here he unfolded the scheme. “Pending a hearing in the police court,” he went on, “Seymour and me must take care of the securities. For reasons I can’t tell--police reasons, you know--we can’t keep the stuff at Police Headquarters, yet we must be able to put our hands on it any moment. Now, can’t you suggest some one who will take temporary charge of the stuff for us?” The depositor hesitated. He couldn’t, for his life’s sake, seem to think of a soul who’d fill Davidson’s bill; but the latter could and progressed cautiously. His watchword was ever, caution. Should his request for aid ever in any way be connected, even by suspicion, with aught that might happen to the St. Nicholas Bank, he wanted to weave the circumstances so that it would appear as though his friend had proffered assistance. “If I knew of a depositor with an account in a Wall Street bank, it would be just the thing,” said Davidson, as a lead. “Blast it!” cried the friend at once; “what a blamed fool I am--I can help you out. I’ve got a strong box at the St. Nicholas Bank; how’ll that do?” “Do!” exclaimed Davidson, delightedly, “do, why, it’ll be just the thing. It couldn’t be better, could it, Joe?” “Nothing better,” promptly agreed Joe Seymour. “But won’t it be bothering you too much?” Davidson asked solicitously. “By no means, no,” enthusiastically returned the friend, and before the close of banking hours that day, a box of fake securities was safely stowed away in the St. Nicholas Bank; and thus another step in the loot plot was taken by my very efficient detective assistants, who were being paid by the New York City government to protect the lives and property of its citizens. A few days later Davidson told his friend he’d want the securities in court for a few hours the following day. This was done, the object of the withdrawal and return being to demonstrate the uncertainty of the demands by the court for the securities. Presently there would come a very urgent call at the opening of the bank. That apparently very important demand came a few days later. Quite late one night, Davidson, having informed himself that his depositor-friend would be at home, rang the bell and was admitted. With much regret Tom said the securities must be in court the next morning as soon after ten as possible. “It’s routing you out pretty early,” apologized the detective, putting on a fine tone of regret; “but it’s the last time I’ll have to bother you, for the confounded case closes for good to-morrow, and I’m blasted glad of it.”