Jackson Gregory

“ The star man of Ferguson's detective agency had but the one determination; the time had come when some man must bring “King” Tom Reagan to book, and that man must be Billy Steele. He was like the ancient Roman senator with the hatred of Carthage: an must be destroyed.”
Returning from San Francisco, Steele had brought back with him a bitter sense of having been worsted by Tom Reagan, the burning knowledge that he had failed dismally in his real work, the clearness of vision to see that Reagan had used him as his most convenient tool. ”

“ Reagan's powerful influence had long ago been felt; before now other men had Been bought and silenced by the very interest they had begun by opposing. A new anger kindled in Steele's heart; he saw that already Reagan had gone a long way toward discrediting him. Reagan had realized he could not bribe him, and had chosen the other means of drawing an enemy's claws. Steele, all along, had been looking keenly, single-mindedly for one thing—the evidence to convict Reagan on any of a number of counts. Given time, the man making so stubborn a search is apt to find what he seeks. ”

“ In fact, Reagan's full realization of just these matters had shown itself in his attempts to get Steele out of the running.
“He wants me off his trail the worst way,” pondered Steele over his pipe, gone cold. “Why should he be so set on it—unless he's getting ready for something new right now?”
He had not seen Reagan since the two had parted in San Francisco; he did not even know if Reagan were again in New York. It struck him that there was a very simple way of knowing. He caught up his telephone from the table at his elbow and called Reagan's home number. ”