"The man with the twisted jaw?"
"Yes."
"Under what name?"
"Hugh Porter."
"Ah, it was Hazen only five hours ago," muttered Ransom. "Porter, did you say? I'll have a talk with this Porter at once."
"I think not to-night," put in the detective, with the mingled authority and deference natural to one of his kind. "To-morrow, perhaps, but to-night it would only provoke scandal."
This was certainly true, but Mr. Ransom was not an easy man to dominate.
"I must see him before I sleep," he insisted. "A single word may solve this mystery. He has the word. I'd be a fool to let the night go by—Ah! what's that?"
The telephone bell had rung again. A message from the office this time. A note had just been handed in for Mr. Ransom; should they send it up?
Gerridge was at the 'phone.