out of sight. It was still only half-past
nine, not too late conceivably to pay a call. Evan rang the bell.

The door was opened by a handsome, bold-eyed girl who had a challenging
glance for any personable young male. Evan gave her look for look; she
was a potential source of valuable information.

"Charley Straiker live here?" he asked.

"Yes, but he's out now."

"Do you know when he'll be in?"

"In half an hour. He's gone to the garage to put the car away."

"Sure he's coming back?"

"He just told me. In case anybody called up."

The trail was not lost then; Evan took heart. "Well, I'll wait for
him," he said. "Where's his room?"

The girl gave him a provoking glance. "I don't know if I ought to let
you up. I don't know you."

"Well, I'll stop and talk to you and you soon will," retorted Evan.

She tossed her head. "I can't stand here all night talking."

"What's your name?"

"Ethel Barrymore. What's yours?"

"Leo Dietrichstein."

"Some li'l jollier, aren't you?"

"I'm just learning from you, Ethel."

"Are you an artist like Mr. Straiker?"

"No, I'm a Wall street broker."

"Yes you are!"

"Any rooms to rent, Ethel? I'd like to hang out where you are."

"All the hall rooms are taken."

"They would be, around you. How about a man's size room?"

"Who do you want it for?"

This sprightly exchange was cut short by a shrill voice from the
basement calling: "Sa-a-d-e-e-e!"

"Darn!" muttered the girl. "I've got to go or she'll scream her lungs
out!"

"Which is Charley's room?" said Evan. "I'll go up."

"Second floor rear hall," she said as she disappeared.

Her cryptic description was sufficient to anyone who knows New York
rooming houses. The room was typical. Charley had not been in it long
enough to give it any of his own character. You squeezed past the bed
to a tiny rectangular space at the foot where there was just room
enough for a bureau, a wash-stand and one chair. If the occupant had a
visitor one of them must sit on the bed.

Evan sat down in the chair and filled his pipe, thinking grimly of the
surprise that Charley was due to receive when he opened the door.
Suppose Charley flatly refused all information, how could he make him
speak? It occurred to him that it would be well to be supplied with
evidence, and he began to look over Charley's things. After the way
Charley had acted he had no scruples in doing so; he would not have
been at all put out of cou