That he would walk with open eyes into such a net as the telegram indirectly suggested would seem utterly improbable, and Bart Bailey had immediately seized the supposed opportunity which the situation presented, feeling sure that he could trap Chick before he could learn that his identity and designs were suspected. Half an hour later, therefore, found both seated in the smoking car of an express train bound for New York, whither Chick had really expected to have taken the crook in irons, instead of traveling as his supposed dupe. This appeared to Chick, nevertheless, the surest and speediest way to discover the identity and doings of Bailey’s confederates, as well as to round up the entire gang, which might possibly be perverted by the immediate arrest of Bailey and Rudolph Meyers. It was early afternoon when they arrived in New York, each having played his part consistently, resulting in no material change in the situation, save a change of base. “We’ll take a taxi,” said Bailey, as they emerged from the station. “I’ve got the price.” “That beats working one’s passage on a freight train,” Chick replied. “Whatever you say, Mr. Finley, goes.” “This way, then.” Chick followed him to a taxicab, to the driver of which the crook quietly gave his instructions. The taxicab stopped in front of an unpretentious store in one of the crosstown streets. The single front window denoted that wooden toys and novelties of like description were sold within. A sign over the door apparently told the whole story: “ACME NOVELTY COMPANY.” Chick glanced at the sign and window when he followed Bart Bailey from the taxicab. Beyond the low brick building in which this store was located, the two upper floors of which were evidently used for a dwelling, towered the rear wall of a vast mercantile edifice, which Chick immediately recognized. “Mantell & Goulard’s department store,” he said to himself. “By Jove, this should signify something.” “This way, Donovan.” Bart Bailey spoke with a growl. “Get a move on.” Chick did not hesitate. He followed the ruffian without replying, and entered the quarters of the Acme Novelty Company. CHAPTER VII. INTO A NET. Chick Carter sized up the interior of the store with a glance. He saw that it was not used for a retail business. Several empty cases stood on the floor, while a nondescript array of toys and novelties of cheap variety filled the shelves and single counter, all more or less dusty and in some disorder. The only visible occupant of the place was a burly, powerful man of middle age, with reddish hair and features, and with his shirt sleeves rolled above the elbows of his brawny arms. He was clad in overalls and appeared to be engaged in drawing nails from a cover of one of the empty cases. “Hello! Back again, Finley?” he exclaimed, in guttural tones, when the two men entered, at the same time bestowing an indifferent glance upon Chick.