“It seems that Bart Bailey was seen going into a house in East Forty-third Street about ten o’clock this morning,” Patsy continued. “He was in disguise, but was recognized by some one who declined to give his name to the headquarters chief, to whom he hastened to telephone.” “He stated, I suppose, that he had seen Bailey going into the house.” “That’s what,” said Patsy. “The chief then called up the precinct station and told the sergeant to go to the house with a couple of men and get Bailey.” “I see.” “Before he could finish giving his instructions, including the number of the house, the telephone connection was suddenly broken. Nearly ten minutes passed before the chief could get it renewed, and that brief delay cost the guns their man. When they arrived at the house, Bailey had been gone about three minutes.” “Did the chief know his sister is employed in the telephone exchange?” “Bet you!” exclaimed Patsy sententiously. “Let him alone to have learned that. He has had men out after Bailey for nearly six months. He learned, too, that Helen Bailey was the operator who connected him with the precinct station, and he noticed while talking with the sergeant that the connection was broken once and quickly renewed.” “Precisely,” thought Nick, recalling his own observations. “He was not alone.” “Half a minute later,” Patsy added, “it was broken completely, and the chief lost his man. It made him sore, for fair. He knows the girl must have overheard his orders to the sergeant, and he suspects that she purposely cut him off and afterward telephoned her brother to bolt.” “Not an unreasonable inference,” Nick allowed, a bit grimly. “Nevertheless, Patsy, the girl did nothing of the kind.” “Gee whiz!” Patsy returned, gazing. “Are you wise to something bearing on the case? Do you mean----” “Never mind what I mean,” Nick interposed, glancing at his watch. “I’ll inform you later. I’ll knock those suspicions out of the chief’s head in about two shakes of a lamb’s tail. Helen Bailey is a heroine--much more heroic than most girls would have been under the same temptation.” Nick did not wait to explain to Chick and Patsy. Disregarding their looks of surprise, he replaced his hat and started immediately for the police headquarters. He was so well known there, where his services were very frequently required, that no one would have thought of opposing him. He learned that the chief still was talking with Helen Bailey in his private office, into which Nick walked without the ceremony of knocking. The chief regarded him with a look of surprise. It became more marked, even, when Helen Bailey, pale and with eyes red from weeping, uttered a low cry and exclaimed: “Oh, sir, here is the man who assisted me. This is the man I have told you about. He knows that my faint was not feigned. He will tell you----”