“Excuse me,” said Snell to Patsy, going quickly to the desk. He took the envelope handed to him, and opened it with trembling fingers. When he had read the message he crumpled the paper in his hand and frowned. After a moment of thought, he turned to Patsy, saying, “Excuse me” again, and went with him to the barroom. Snell poured himself a stiff drink of whiskey. “Once more,” he said, raising his glass, “I thank you for coming to my rescue. Honestly, I believe I should be a dead man this minute if you hadn’t. Here’s your health.” “Thanks,” responded Patsy. “Now,” continued Snell, “I don’t like to leave a man who has saved my life, in this abrupt way, but I’ve got to. This telegram calls me out of town, and I must lose no time in getting ready. Won’t you leave me your name and address?” “Why,” answered Patsy, “I’ll give you my name if you want it, and address, too, but it isn’t likely that we shall meet again if you don’t live in New York. My name is James Callahan,” and he gave an address that the detectives sometimes used. It was a place where any letters that came to strange names were promptly taken to Nick’s house. Snell made a note of the address. “My name is Snell,” he said, “and I hope we shall meet again, Mr. Callahan. I must say good-by now.” They shook hands and Snell went to the elevator. “I wish he had dropped that telegram,” thought the detective. He looked at the clock. It was an hour and a half to midnight. If Snell meant to leave town at once he could hardly hope to do so until midnight, for that was the hour at which through trains started from most stations. There was time to make a report to Nick and get back again if that should be necessary. Accordingly Patsy hurried to Nick’s house, and told his chief what had happened. Nick looked very thoughtful. “I had about decided that the man is crazy,” he said. “I sent a telegram to the chief of police at Manchester, asking if he knew of any robbery of jewels, State papers, or anything else of great importance within a month. I also asked if there had been a mysterious disappearance within the same time, and if he knew who George Snell was. Here’s his answer, received five minutes ago.” He handed a telegram to Patsy. It read: “Nothing doing in crime here. Never heard of George Snell. No man of that name lives here. “DINSMORE.” “Dinsmore,” said Nick, “is the chief at Manchester now. He used to be on the New York force, and I know him well. Now, if there has been a serious crime at Manchester, two thousand miles away, isn’t it strange that I should hear of it in New York before it is known there?” “It beats me,” said Patsy. “And it looks as if Snell was the chief crook in the matter,” added Nick. “But, if he is, I can’t see what he’s driving at. After getting this telegram I thought he was crazy, that he imagined a crime had been committed, and I didn’t mean to have anything more to do with the matter.