On July 15th, a little more than a month earlier, Bernard Myers, a clothing merchant of West Third Street, New York, had flirted on a Broadway car with a handsome young woman, who had given him her name and address as Mrs. Albert Warner, 141 West Thirty-fourth Street, and invited him to write her. Myers, more avid than cautious, wrote the woman a fervid letter, asking for an appointment. A few days later two men appeared in the Myers store. One of them, who carried a heavy cane, said that he was the husband of Mrs. Warner, brandished the guilty letter in one hand, the cane in the other, and demanded that Myers give him a check for three hundred dollars on the spot or take the consequences. Myers, after some argument, gave a check for one hundred dollars, and then, as soon as the men had left his store, rushed to his bank and stopped payment. He then visited the district attorney and caused the arrest of Warner, who was now arraigned and released on bail. Loew had been summoned to act as attorney for Warner. He now told the newspapers of disclosures his client had made to him in consultation. Warner, who was himself an attorney with an office at 1298 Broadway, had told Loew that he was interested in a plot to organize kidnapping on a commercial scale, and that the first jobs would be attempted in up-State New York. He gave Loew many details and talked plausibly of the ease with which parents could be stripped of considerable sums. Loew, who considered his client and fellow attorney slightly demented, had paid little attention to this sinister talk at the time. Now, however, he felt sure that Warner had told the truth and that he probably was the man in the mask. Faced with these revelations, in his cell, the pliant Blake admitted that he was a friend of Warner’s, that they had indeed been schoolmates in their youth. He also admitted that he had been in New York a few days before the abduction of Johnny Conway and had then visited Warner. So the chase began. The police discovered that Warner had been at his office a day ahead of them and slipped out of New York again. They also found that he had been at Albany the three days that Johnny Conway had been detained. Their investigations showed also that Warner, though he had the reputation of being a particularly shrewd and energetic counselor, had never adhered very closely to the law himself, but had again and again been implicated in shady or criminal transactions, though he had always escaped prison, probably through legal acumen. It was soon apparent that the man had got well away, and an alarm was sent across the country. The police circulars that went out to all parts of America and the chief British and continental ports, described a man between forty and forty-five years old, more than six feet tall, slender, dark, with hair of iron gray over a very high forehead. That Warner was a bicycle enthusiast was the only added detail.