“With no monkey business, mind you,” cautioned Patsy. “That will be all your life is worth.” “I’ll hand it to him right.” “Do you know where to find him?” “I can round him up between now and dark. That’s what you said.” “Come on, then,” said Patsy, rising. “Let’s lose no time about it.” Despite Flynn’s assurance, however, nearly three hours were spent in a vain search before he finally found the gangster. Eight o’clock that evening saw all three seated around a small table in a saloon in Second Avenue, on which several rounds of drinks already had been served. Flynn had told his story and had put it fully as strong as Patsy Garvan had directed. It appeared to have made a favorable impression upon Bannon, as also had the disguised detective, who had played his part to the letter. “I know a place, all right, and a gang you’d fit in well with,” Bannon finally said, in response to a suggestion from Patsy that he ought to get under cover without delay. “There’s a guy among ’em you’d like to meet. He’s the big finger of the bunch.” Patsy felt sure that he referred to Stuart Floyd. “That will suit me, Bug, and then some,” he assured the grinning rascal. “You will always find me ready to hold my end up.” “That sounds good to me, Glynn, and the Pilot’s not likely to put me in wrong in any way.” “I’ll be off, then, if you two ginks are going,” said Flynn, when Bannon appeared willing to depart and take Patsy along with him. “I’ll see you again to-morrow.” “Out the front way, Pilot,” Bannon replied, glancing toward the swinging doors. “It’s the back way and the alley for us.” “So long, then!” Flynn arose with the last and hurried out of the place. He was glad to get away. Though himself a crook and a steerer, the despicable part that he had played was far from his liking. “We’ll be off, too, Sandy, if you’re ready,” Bannon then said quietly. “The sooner the better,” Patsy nodded. “Half a minute while I make sure the coast is clear.” Patsy waited, well pleased with the result of his subterfuge, and the outlook that now appeared to insure his complete success. He was not deterred for a moment by the thought that he was carrying his life in his hand. Bannon sauntered into a back room, evidently being perfectly familiar with the place and its surroundings. He returned to the door a moment later and beckoned Patsy to follow him. “I’ve got him down pat, all right,” flashed through Patsy’s mind while he complied. “He don’t so much as even scent a rat in the meal. If I can only get next to Floyd and the rest of the gang--well, I can see their finish.” Bannon conducted him out of a back door and around two old buildings in the rear, which brought them into one of the crosstown streets. He then headed for another section of the East Side--that to which Chick Carter shadowed Vera Vantoon only a short time later.