Not in the slightest degree did he regret his bloody crime. He did not forget it; it was too fresh in his mind for that; nor did he strive to. Wilbur was the incarnation of villainy, and at that moment he looked upon himself as a most abused person. He had lost his money; by killing the man who could have returned it to him, he satisfied his revenge; but still that was not the money. Wilbur left the car at Sixth Avenue, and, after walking a few blocks, entered a place called “The Cat and Kittens.” He knew this to be a favorite resort of Greer, and, having a drink, he went into a rear room to wait for him. Wilbur did not inquire for Elmer at the bar, fearing that when the latter entered and was told a man was waiting for him in the back room, he might take fright and go away again. For many hours did the banker’s son await the coming of Greer, and at least every fifteen minutes he called for a drink, which resulted in his becoming quite tipsy. It was near midnight when he heard Elmer’s voice in the barroom, and he went to him. Greer was surprised to see him, but when Wilbur beckoned, he followed him to the back room. As soon as they were seated, Elmer said: “Did you see the evening papers?” “No.” “Then you haven’t heard about our late friend?” “What friend?” asked Wilbur, pettishly. “Tom Smith.” “What has he been doing?” “He was murdered in his cell to-day,” replied Greer, expecting that his friend would be carried away with surprise. “Good for him,” muttered Wilbur. “Have they got the murderer?” “Not yet,” answered Elmer, “but the paper says the police have an important clew.” Wilbur became deadly pale, and his heart felt as if made of lead. “Does it say what the clew is?” he asked. “No,” replied Greer, a light flashing upon him. “Why do you look at me so?” inquired Wilbur. “Oh, nothing.” Greer said this carelessly, but the other could see that his easy manner was forced. “I am not afraid of you; you dare not inform against me.” “I thought you knew a little about it,” said Elmer. “You have made a terrible mistake.” “I could not help it; he goaded me on,” replied Wilbur. “But what do I care? He is not the first that has been removed. What bothers me is the clew you speak of.” “Smith was my friend,” remarked Greer, drawing his chair back from the table at which the pair were seated. “Yes, you were quite a good friend of his, too; you tried to rob him, I believe, just to show your friendship. You are a nice gentleman, you are.” “I am not a murderer.” “You admit that you are a thief?” said Wilbur. “Cowards like you fear the hangman too much to commit murder. When I die, I hope it is on the gallows that I may spite and disgrace everyone belonging to me. Still, I trust it may be long before my turn comes.” Greer got up as if to leave, but at the other’s look he again seated himself. “Did you know that the money at police headquarters, I mean our share of it, is lost to us forever?” asked Elmer.