“Burke hasn’t arrived yet,” remarked Hastings, nervously. “I’ve been expecting him any moment. I wonder what is keeping him?”
There was no way of finding out, and we were forced to sit impatiently.
A few moments later we heard hurried footsteps down the hall and Burke burst in, his face flushed with excitement.
“This thing is devilish,” he exclaimed, looking keenly at Hastings. “I must be in your class.”
“How’s that? Did some one shoot at you?” queried the lawyer.
“No, but I came within an ace of being poisoned.”
“Poisoned?” we inquired, incredulously.
“Yes. You know I started to find that night watchman. Well, I found him. He knows nothing—and I think he is telling the truth. But after I had questioned him I made him admit that sometimes he takes a meal in the middle of the night. Of course he has to leave the front hall of the ground floor unguarded to do so. I figured that the robber might have got in and got away during that time. And I guess I’m right.
“After that I saw the policeman who walks the beat at night. I thought he was going to prove a better witness. He remembers, under questioning, seeing a speedster that stopped around the next corner and was left there standing some time—about the time that the robbery must have taken place, if I am right. He thought it was strange and hung about.
“When the fellow who drove the car came back the policeman walked over. The fellow offered no explanation of leaving his car on the street at such an hour, except that he had stopped to shift a shoe that had blown. Then he asked where there was an all-night lunch-room. The policeman directed him and the fellow thanked him and drove off in that direction.”