"Probably," rejoined Colonel Dartwell, sarcastically. "Take us to that place without delay. But stop--drive to police headquarters first."

Very unwillingly the fellow complied. At the headquarters help was procured in the shape of two ward detectives. All four of the party entered the carriage and were driven off to effect Nellie Ardell's rescue.

It was with deep interest that Jerry accompanied Colonel Dartwell and the officers of the law in the search for the missing young lady.

On through the crowded streets of Brooklyn drove the carriage, the driver now apparently as willing to help the law as he had before wished to evade it.

The carriage was turning into one of the fine thoroughfares when Jerry caught sight of a figure which instantly arrested his attention. The figure was that of Mr. Wakefield Smith.

"Stop!" cried the young oarsman to the driver of the carriage.

"What's up?" demanded the colonel.

"Do you see that man over there by the paper stand?"

"Yes."

"That is Wakefield Smith, the pickpocket."

"Indeed! He ought to be arrested."

"You know him to be a pickpocket?" questioned one of the detectives.

"I do. He robbed me of over twenty dollars. I got back ten dollars. He's a very smooth and slick worker."

"I think I know that chap," returned the detective. "Don't he look like Charley the Dude?" he asked of his companion.

"By Jove! that's our man!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the second detective. "I would know him anywhere by that peculiar walk. He has grown a heavy mustache since I saw him last."

"Will you stop and arrest him?" asked Jerry. "He ought to be locked up."

"We can get the policeman on the beat to attend to him. There is an officer on the next corner. Just call him, Harrity."

The carriage was brought up to the curb and our hero and the officers alighted, the Colonel remaining behind to keep an eye on the driver.

Mr. Wakefield Smith was strolling down the street in a lordly way when Jerry tapped him on the shoulder.

"So I've met you again," he said.

The pickpocket turned and his face fell. But only for a moment; then he gazed at the youth brazenly.

"I don't know you, me boy," he drawled in an a.s.sumed voice.

"But I know you, Mr. Smith," rejoined Jerry. "I want the balance of my money. I got ten dollars the night you were intoxicated, but that is not enough."

"Boy, you are talking riddles. I never saw you before."

"I can easily prove it, I fancy."

"It's no use, Charley," broke in the detective, who had followed me. "We know you well enough."

"And who are you?" asked the pickpocket, much disconcerted.

"I am a detective. You are the rogue known as Charley the Dude. You may consider yourself under arrest."

"This is an outrage!"

"Hardly."

By this time the second detective had arrived with a policeman. At sight of the bluecoat the pickpocket became nervous. Turning, he suddenly started to run.

But the others ran for him, and soon he was handcuffed. Explanations to the policeman followed, and the officer took him off, and Jerry and the detectives continued on their way.

It may be well to state here that the pickpocket, whose real name was Charles Heulig, was later on convicted of several crimes and sent to state prison for a term of years. Jerry never received a cent of the balance of the money due, but other events that followed made this loss seem a trivial one.

CHAPTER x.x.xVIII.

ALEXANDER SLOc.u.m IS BROUGHT TO BOOK.

In half an hour after the arrest of the pickpocket the young oarsman and his companions found themselves on the outskirts of Brooklyn and bowling along a smooth country road which the detectives said they knew well.

On and on they went, until Colonel Dartwell asked the driver how much further they had to go.

"About half a mile, sir," was the answer.

His words proved correct. Turning into a side road, the carriage came to the entrance to a large grounds, surrounded by a high board fence.

Over the gateway was the sign:

DR. HALCONE'S PRIVATE SANITARIUM.

"A private lunatic asylum," murmured Colonel Dartwell.

"Yes, sir," said the driver. "You know I told you they said the young lady was a bit off."

"What shall we do?" was the question put by the westerner to the detectives. "Shall we go in boldly and order them to produce the girl?"

"Will they do it?" asked Jerry. "They may be in Sloc.u.m's pay, and hide her away."

"The young man is right," said one of the detectives. "We'll drive on a way and then sneak back and size the place up."

This was done, and five minutes later found the colonel and our hero walking along a hedge which separated the grounds on one side from a woods.

"Look there!" Jerry cried suddenly, and pointed to an upper window of the brick building beyond.