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244 "About nine months ago, sir. The flat's rented again now to a family named—"

"Never mind." Odell pressed the bill into her hand. "I think Mrs. Gael's friends will be able to locate her now."

"Thank you, sir. There was a young lady here askin' for her yesterday, too, my man tells me. I hope Mrs. Gael gets well; there's a lot that's crazier-actin' than her walkin' around loose."

Odell glanced at his watch as he descended the steps. It was a quarter to three. If he made a quick subway connection he would reach the financial district just in time to catch Dilke—

As he returned the watch to his pocket he glanced idly at a figure loitering by the curb and his train of thought snapped. The figure was shabby and uncouth, and the eyes which stared out at him from the thin, sickly yellow countenance were deeply sunken. The man uttered a low imprecation and turned to run; but in another moment Odell's hand gripped his shoulder and swung him about so that they stood face to face.

"Well, Tony! So you weren't burned, after all, when you set fire to the boathouse!" The grip tightened. "Why did you kill Pete?"

"I didn't! Honest to Gawd, I didn't!" Tony cringed. "When I woke up he was sittin' there dead in the chair, an' you an' de other guy was gone. So help me Gawd!"

"Come along and tell that to the Old Man down at Headquarters." Odell signaled a passing taxi, and thrusting in his cowering captive he followed. "Two-forty Center Street, and step on the gas!"