Most of Van Hofen's guests had gone. The policeman grinned and muttered in Clancy's ear: "The Senator's a giddy guy. Two of 'em at wanst. Mrs. Tower's a good-looker, but I didn't think much of the other wan." Clancy nodded. His black and beady eyes had just clashed with those of a notorious crook, who suddenly remembered an urgent appointment elsewhere. Fifteen minutes later Senator Meiklejohn returned. He entered the club without being waylaid a second time. Clancy consulted his watch. "Keep a sharp lookout here, Mac," he said, _sotto voce_. "While I was away just now Broadway Jim showed up. He's got cold feet, and there'll be nothing more doing to-night, I think. Anyhow, I'm going up-town." In Fifth Avenue he boarded a Riverside Drive bus. The weather was mild, and he mounted to the roof. "Now, who in the world will Senator Meiklejohn meet on the landing-stage?" he mused. "Seems to me the chief may be interested. Five hundred dollars, too! I wonder!" CHAPTER II A DARING CRIME It was no part of Detective Clancy's business to pry into the private affairs of Senator Meiklejohn. Senators are awkward fish to handle, being somewhat similar to whales caught in nets designed to capture mackerel. But the Bureau is no respecter of persons. Men much higher up in politics and finance than William Meiklejohn would be disagreeably surprised if they could read certain details entered opposite their names in the _dossiers_ kept by the police department. Still, it behooved Clancy to tread warily. As it happened, he was just the man for this self-imposed duty. Two Celtic strains mingled in his blood, while American birth and training had not only quickened his intelligence but imparted a quality of wide-eyed shrewdness to a daring initiative. When he and the bluff Steingall worked together the malefactor on whose heels they pressed had a woeful time. As one blood-stained rascal put it in a bitter moment before the electric chair claimed him for the expiation of his last and worst crime: "Them two guys give a reg'lar fellow no chanst. When they're trailin' you every road leads straight to Sing Sing. The big guy has a punch like Jess Willard, an' the lil 'un a nose like a Montana wolf." It was Clancy's nose for the more subtle elements in crime which brought him to the small chalet on the private pier at the foot of Eighty-sixth Street that night. He could not guess what game he might flush, but he was keen as a bloodhound in the chase. Meanwhile, Senator Meiklejohn encountered Ronald Tower the moment he re-entered the palatial club. By this time he seemed to have regained his customary air of geniality, being one of those rather uncommon men whose apparent characteristics are never so marked as when they are acting a part. "H'lo, Ronnie," he cried affably, "I met Helen as she left for the theater. She has an inquiring mind, but I headed her off. By the way, will you be at this luncheon to-morrow?"