O’Reilly had been reading the newspapers. He knew that there had been a kidnapping; that there was a reward of fifteen thousand dollars outstanding; that a man and woman were supposed to have held the boy captive in Cleveland, and not too far from the saloon. Also he had read about the package of five, ten, and twenty dollar bills. His brows lifted. O’Reilly waited for an opportune moment and went to his cash drawer. The bills this pair of strangers had given him were all new; that was certain. Perhaps they would prove to be all of the same issue, even of the same series and in consequent numbers. If so---- The saloonkeeper had to move with caution. When his suspect callers had their attention on something else, he slipped the money from the till and moved to the end of the bar near the window, where he was out of their visional range. He laid the bills out on the cigar case, adjusted his glasses, and stared. In that moment the visitors got up to go. O’Reilly urged them to stay, insisted on supplying them with a free drink, did what he could, without arousing suspicion, to detain them, hoping that an officer would saunter in. At last they could be held no longer. With an exchange of unsteady compliments, they were out of the door and gone into the night, whose shadows had yielded them up an hour before. O’Reilly noted the direction they took and flew to a telephone. In response to his urgings, Captain Shattuck and Detective Woods were hurried to the place and set out with O’Reilly’s instructions and description. They had no more than moved from the saloon when the rollicking pair was seen returning. The officers hailed these sinister celebrants with a remark about the weather and the lateness of the hour. Instantly the man took to his heels, with Captain Shattuck in pursuit. As they turned a corner, the officer drew and fired high. The fleeing man collapsed in a heap, and the policeman ran to him, marveling that his aim had been so unintentionally good. He found, however, that the fugitive had merely stumbled in his sodden attempt at flight. Both prisoners were taken forthwith to the nearest police station and subjected to questioning. They were inarticulately drunk, or determinedly reticent and pretending. Tiring of the maneuvers and half assured that he was probably face to face with the kidnappers, Captain Shattuck ordered them searched. At various places in the linings of the woman’s clothing, still in the neat packages in which it had been taken from the bank, were nine thousand, seven hundred and ninety dollars. The prisoners turned out to be James H. Boyle and Helen McDermott Boyle--he a floating adventurer known to the cities of Pennsylvania and Ohio, she the daughter of respectable Chicago parents, whom she had quit several years before to go venturing on her own account.