But before they
could learn the cause, out from the near-by building came Ramon
Alfarez, accompanied by several policemen and a group of railroad
employes, among whom was Kirk Anthony.
"There he is!" wheezed the consul, clutching at his companion's
arm. "Get him now, before his friends." But Williams had been even
quicker of eye than his fat guide, and was plunging through the
crowd toward his quarry. He thrust the policemen and the curious
onlookers aside and, laying hold of Anthony, cried in triumph:
"Well, Mr. Jefferson Locke, I want you."
"Hello, Williams! You got around finally, didn't you?" Kirk smiled
at him.
A little man in blue uniform was attempting to take the prisoner
in charge, but the detective disregarded him.
"It won't do you any good to resist," he went on. "I've come to
get you."
Runnels elbowed his way forward with a question.
"Oh, I've got a warrant for him," Williams declared. "What for?
Well, for one thing he embezzled eighty thousand dollars, and I'm
going to take him back."
"Eh? W'at is this?" Alfarez bustled into the conversation.
"Embezzle? He is then a t'ief?"
"Exactly. If you're the inspector I'll ask you to make this arrest
for me. I believe we're on foreign ground."
"That's right, Alfarez," came the voice of John Weeks, anxious to
have a word in the affair.
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