away, and how, afterward, he had denied that he had seen Prale on Fifth
Avenue and had spoken to him. "He's connected with this thing in some
way," Farland told himself. "It's my job to discover exactly how." But
he was doomed to be disappointed. Before he could
get near enough to make an attempt to overhear what they were saying,
they suddenly parted. Kate Gilbert went
into the shop, and George Lerton crossed the street
and hurried down the Avenue. It was no use wasting time on Kate
Gilbert. Farland knew where to find her if he wanted her,
and he knew there would be no use in shadowing her now, since she
probably had gone into the shop to purchase
a hat. But George Lerton was quite another
matter. The detective did not hesitate. He swung off down Fifth Avenue
in the wake of George Lerton. Farland was a rough and
ready man, and he had little liking for male humans of the George
Lerton type. Lerton always dressed in the acme
of fashion, running considerably to fads in clothes, appearing
almost effeminate at
times. And yet it was said in financial circles that Lerton was far
from being effeminate when it came to a business deal. There had been
whispers
about his dark methods, and it was well known that a business foe got
small sympathy or consideration
from him. He was a fashionable cut-throat without any of the milk of
human kindness in his system. It