“That beautiful girl!” exclaimed the banker, eager to know all that Patsy could tell him. Though the lad was anxious to get to work, he was compelled to delay while he satisfied the banker’s curiosity. When he was finally released, which he was with full authority to go to all parts of the huge building, he hurried out into the space where the dogs were benched. As fond as he was of the animals, however, he paid little attention to them, for he was anxious to make himself acquainted with the attendants. It was the last day of the show, and the attendance, especially at that hour in the afternoon when Patsy reached the building, was very large. If thereby movement about the building was made difficult, it was all the better for Patsy, for he was less likely to be recognized. He spent an hour of close examination without hitting upon anything which could serve as an opening to him. Finally he engaged in conversation a well-known kennelman of a prominent breeder, leading it to the poisoning of the dogs by degrees. “Yes,” said the kennelman, in answer to Patsy’s question, “there was a nasty case of poisoning here. You can bet that it was outside of the bunch.” “What do you mean by that?” asked Patsy. “I mean it was none of the doggy men that did it, and it wasn’t for any show reasons. A breeder, or a man in the business, thinks too much of a dog to do him in that way. “Setters are not my line. We were only competing in the fox-terriers. So we hadn’t especial interest in setters. But I felt as bad over the deaths of those setters as if they had been the dogs I had brought up and cared for. “It’s a mean man that can kill a dog, anyhow—dogs as gentle and sweet-tempered as setters are. “So I say some one was trying to get square on the lady that owned those dogs, and for reasons away from this show. “Say, if they ever get down to the truth of it, see if it don’t turn out to be a woman that did the business.” This was a new idea to Patsy, and he stood still thinking of it. Suddenly a voice fell on his ear. “It’s him, I’m telling you. Sure. Get out of sight!” Patsy looked around, without seeing whence came the voice, though two of the attendants were walking off hastily. Rather from curiosity than from any other reason, Patsy followed them, carefully preventing himself from being seen by them. When they had reached the end of the aisle, they turned, taking up a position behind a bench, where they thought they were concealed from view. Patsy crept up as closely as he could, and under the pretense of petting one of the dogs, then listened to their further talk. “I heard that Nick Carter was onto the case,” said the voice Patsy had heard before. “Now his young assistant, Patsy, comes around on the sneak.” “But you ain’t sure he’s onto the case. Likely he’s only come in to have a look at the dogs.” “Look nawthin’! He’s here for biz. I am going to get out.” “If you do, you lose your pay. If you drop out now, you get nothing.”