"Where's she gone in Chicago?"
Burke answered in his usual gruff fashion, but with a note of
kindliness that was not without its effect on Dick.
"I'm no mind-reader," he said. "But she's a swell little girl,
all right. I've got to hand it to her for that. So, she'll
probably stop at the Blackstone--that is, until the Chicago
police are tipped off that she is in town."
Of a sudden, the face of the young man took on a totally
different expression. Where before had been anger, now was a
vivid eagerness. He went close to the Inspector, and spoke with
intense seriousness.
"Burke," he said, pleadingly, "give me a chance. I'll leave for
Chicago in the morning. Give me twenty-four hours start before
you begin hounding her."
The Inspector regarded the speaker searchingly. His heavy face
was drawn in an expression of apparent doubt. Abruptly, then, he
smiled acquiescence.
"Seems reasonable," he admitted.
But the father strode to his son.
"No, no, Dick," he cried. "You shall not go! You shall not go!"
Burke, however, shook his head in remonstrance against Gilder's
plea.
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