We'll get 'em. And, anyway, bonds can be traced."

"These are payable to bearer," said Kenleigh numbly. "There were three
classes of bonds in this issue--those payable to bearer; those
registered as to principal; and those fully registered, that is where
the interest is paid by government check instead of the bonds having
coupons. Naturally, under the circumstances, it was the
'payable-to-bearer' bonds that my client wanted."

"Well, they're numbered, aren't they?" Meighan returned encouragingly.

"That's poor consolation for me," said Kenleigh bitterly. "Suppose some
of them, or even all of them, were recovered that way in time--where do
I stand to-morrow morning?"

"I guess that's right--if the Magpie ever got a chance to hand them over
to some fence," admitted Meighan. "The fence could dispose of them by
the underground route all over the country where the numbers weren't
staring everybody in the face. Yes, I guess they could cash in, all
right. Or it wouldn't be much of a trick for a good plate-worker to
alter a number or two, either--the game's big enough. But"--Meighan
chuckled again--"he hasn't got away with it yet!"

Kenleigh made no answer.

It was still again in the apartment. Through the darkness only a few
feet away from Jimmie Dale, the two men sat there silently, waiting, as
he had waited, in the darkness, and the silence--for the Magpie. There
seemed an abhorrent, gruesome analogy in the situation--this waiting for
a _murdered_ man to come!