There was but one way to learn, and that was to keep Loveman under constant and discreet surveillance; and this now became the all-consuming routine of Clifford’s life, in which he was aided by Lieutenant Jimmie Kelly and special men supplied him by Commissioner Thorne, and concerning which he took counsel with Uncle George. But days, weeks, went by; nothing happened. As far as the closest scrutiny could reveal, Loveman was going about his daily round of legal business and his nightly round of pleasures, and in no way was he concerning himself about Mary Regan. And likewise Bradley seemed to be confining himself to his own affairs. This behavior puzzled Clifford. Why were they holding back? But behind this seeming quiet, Clifford knew that things were brewing--and big things. But as to just what they might be, he could get no clue. However, he kept doggedly at his secret watch. There would come a time when they would doubtless act, and he must be ready and on the spot to take action when the moment came. One day when Clifford was talking the situation over with Commissioner Thorne, the Commissioner remarked: “They’re undoubtedly up to something--and you’ll get them in the end, Clifford.” And then: “I hear that young Jack Morton has braced up?” “Yes.” “And I understand that it’s the influence of his wife that’s keeping him in the strait and narrow.” “Yes.” There was no further reference to Mary Regan. But each understood what was in the other’s mind: Thorne knew of Clifford’s regard for Mary Regan, and Clifford knew that Thorne knew it. “Clifford,” the Commissioner went on after a moment, “I’ve twice offered you the position of Chief of the Detective Bureau. I have a man in the place now, but he doesn’t like it and I’m going to shift him as soon as I can. Clifford, I’m offering that job to you again.” “Thanks, Chief. I appreciate the honor”--and he did. In former times Clifford had looked up to that position as the glory-crowned but unattainable peak in his professional career. He hesitated. “It’s a mighty big thing, Chief,--but do you mind if I don’t give you my answer until this job I’m on is closed up?” “All right, Clifford. But remember--I’m counting on you.” While Clifford kept at his appointed task--always with the sense that something big was gathering, and always wondering why Loveman was holding back--the summer grew toward its prime. Jack he occasionally saw; the young fellow seemed to be keeping his promise made that night out in front of Le Minuit. And occasionally Clifford saw the elder Morton, who was remaining in town despite the heat, to watch over his son in this latest testing of Jack’s fiber. But all this while Clifford did not again see Mary.