"I get you!" grinned Jimmy. "Doesn't the recovery of this notebook technically end your commission? We're up to our ears in work here. Why are you going back to Hambleton?"
"Because—because I darn well choose to!" Creighton writhed inwardly as he felt his cheeks growing hot. "On your way, young man—you ought to be under the East River by this time!"
Nevertheless, a certain compunction helped him to put the Varr case, and even Miss Ocky, out of his mind for the balance of the morning while he laboriously worked through an accumulation of other matters that had been waiting for his personal attention. At one o'clock he went to the basement of the building for a hurried lunch in the rathskeller, leaving word of his whereabouts with Rose.
It was well that he did so. With the coffee came an extension telephone that was plugged in at his elbow, and a distant voice spoke clearly in his ear.
"Merrill speaking. I'm telephoning from the railroad station. You guessed right, sir. The woman has just left for New York. Seemed a bit low in her mind—been crying and was still sniffling. She's wearing a dark-gray cloth dress—black oxfords—small black hat with a green feather—black fur neck-piece—brown leather suit-case— What's that, sir? No, sir!" Mr. Merrill's voice was gently reproachful. "She's not wearing the suit-case; she's carrying it. Yes, sir. I thought she acted rather queer—nervous, unhappy and fidgety."
"And no doubt she is! Thank you, Merrill. Good work!"
Creighton hung up the receiver, shook his head at the waiter who came for the instrument, then called an uptown number. A woman's voice answered—bright, alert, faintly tinged with a soft brogue.
"Miss Doyle speaking."
"Hello, Kitty! Did you pack that bag? Good. I want you to meet the train from Hambleton arriving four-thirty. Janet Mackay is on it. You can't miss her—listen!" He rattled off Merrill's description of the woman's dress. "Shadow her, Kitty; follow her to Kamchatka if you have to. Keep your eyes and ears open. Use your own judgment in regard to scraping up an acquaintance if an opportunity offers. She's dour, and probably a bit suspicious. I can give you one useful tip about her—she talks in her sleep. Huh! That will be all from you, Miss Doyle; it doesn't matter how I know. Wire me any news as you get it to Hambleton. Have you plenty of money?"
"Couple of hundred, I'll telegraph if I need more."