"Hear! hear!" exclaimed a young broker. "This is becoming interesting, and promises some sport for those of us who are giddy enough to enjoy staking something on this novel contest. I, for one, am willing to lay reasonable odds on the side of law and order, as represented by the enlightened press, in the person of our clever friend Sturgis. Come, Chadwick, will two to one against the scientific criminal tempt you to champion the cause of that apparently unappreciated individual?" "Very well, Fred," answered the man addressed; "I'll take you for a hundred." A few similar bets were laughingly arranged, and a copy of the _Evening Tempest_ was sent for. CHAPTER III. DOCTOR MURDOCK'S PROBLEM. Sprague's stag dinner was virtually over when a servant brought in a copy of the _Evening Tempest_. The dessert had been removed, the coffee and liqueurs had been served, and the guests had lighted their cigars. The host passed the newspaper to Doctor Murdock, who proceeded to glance leisurely through its columns. "Ah! this will do," he exclaimed, at last. "Here is something which will, I think, answer our purpose-- "MYSTERIOUS SHOTS IN WALL STREET. WHO FIRED THEM? STORY OF A STRAY SATCHEL. THE POLICE PUZZLED. "While on his beat, at a quarter past five o'clock this afternoon, Policeman John Flynn, hearing the report of a pistol from the direction of the Knickerbocker bank----" "The Knickerbocker bank!" interrupted the young broker. "Mr. Dunlap, that interests you. Do your directors indulge in pistol practice at the board meetings?" "What is that about the Knickerbocker bank?" asked the man to whom this speech was addressed. Having been engaged with his neighbor in an earnest discussion on financial questions, he had not been listening to the general conversation. Murdock adjusted his eyeglasses, and quietly resumed: "Policeman John Flynn, hearing the report of a pistol from the direction of the Knickerbocker bank, in Wall Street, started at the top of his speed toward that building. When he was within about twenty yards of the bank another shot rang out, and at the same instant a man darted down the steps and ran toward Broadway." Richard Dunlap, president of the Knickerbocker bank, was listening attentively enough now. Behind the calm mask of the financier there was the evident anxiety of the bank president. For the stability of a bank, like the honor of a woman, is at the mercy of every passing rumor.