Mrs. Dashwood responded to the call, and, in answer to questions, said that her father had written from Madison, and had stated that Mr. Dashwood would return home in a few days. Leonard himself might not be able, on account of pressing business, to return before his son-in-law arrived. The chief passed his hand slowly over his forehead. "What are we up against?" he said, with a puzzled look at Nick. "I have it," he continued, as a thought struck him. "Leonard is keeping his daughter in the dark out of regard for her feelings. She will stay fooled until her father has either been arrested or has left the country." Nick was toying with the note purporting to have come from Madame Ree, and did not reply. When he did speak, it was not in relation to anything the chief had said. "Who among the business men of St. Louis would be likely to know the names and addresses of Leonard's closest friends?" "Jasper Swayne, the insurance-broker. He was once associated with Leonard in business, and has been intimate with him ever since Leonard came to town. His office is in Pine Street." Nick got the number from the directory, and in a short time was seated in Swayne's office, talking with that gentleman. What he learned made him anxious to see Chick, who, however, would not probably report before evening. At Olive and Broadway, Nick took a car. As there was a crowd inside, he rode on the platform. While the car was passing Twentieth Street he saw a man standing at the edge of the sidewalk, who, at sight of the detective, wheeled quickly and walked rapidly down Twentieth Street. The man was Carroll Slack, who had been a deputy in the San Francisco county jail at the time of the escape of James Dorrant. He had been in love with Madame Reesey before the events which had culminated in the death of Dorrant, and his presence in St. Louis at this time was, to Nick's mind, a suspicious circumstance. Although he had not been criminally implicated in the crimes which the great detective had unearthed while he was in the Pacific-coast metropolis, Nick had looked upon him as of weak moral fiber, one who could be easily led astray by a beautiful, designing woman. The detective motioned to the conductor, the car stopped, and pursuit at once began. Slack kept up his rapid walk to Chestnut Street, then turned into it and went north. Nick reached the corner just in time to see Slack disappear through a small opening at the farther end of a high board fence enclosing a large vacant lot, back of some business buildings fronting on Market Street, opposite the Union Depot.