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quite content with a second-hand yarn, Hutchins walked around by the caterer’s place on his way to Miss Vallon’s home.

He found Joe, the doorman, and asked him concerning the matter.

Joe told the tale just as the other man had repeated it.

“Did Mr. Locke seem at all flustered or flurried, Joe?”

“Not at all, sir. Might have been just going of an errand—as I thought he was. Maybe that’s what he did do, and met with some accident or foul play himself.”

“Maybe. You noticed nothing more of special interest—in the light of later affairs?”

“No, sir—that is, except this. Right after Mr. Locke went away—well—maybe five minutes after, a lady came running downstairs. She had on one of those fancy dresses, and a dark cloak over it.

“‘Let me out, please,’ she says—pretty like. ‘I’m late to keep an appointment.’”

“What did she look like?”

“Lord, sir, I couldn’t tell you. Those dressy ladies look all alike to me. Well, I let her out—I thought as she didn’t have an escort, she’d have a car. But, no, she walked—not fast, but brisk like, and went over east. I watched her till I couldn’t see her any more. Probably her appointment was near by.”

“Probably. Then she didn’t go the way Mr. Locke went?”