The morning passed, and still there was no word from Burke.
"I think we might drop around to the St. Quentin for lunch," suggested Kennedy in the forenoon. "We might pick up some news there."
We had scarcely entered when we met Haynes pacing up and down the lobby furiously.
"What's the matter?" inquired Craig, eyeing him searchingly.
"Why," he replied nervously, sticking his thumbs into his waistcoat pockets and then plunging them into his trousers pockets as if it was with the utmost difficulty he controlled those unruly members from doing violence to somebody, "that fellow Ames from whom Delaney hired the apartment had just returned suddenly to town. I saw him talking to Madame Dupres in the hotel parlor. She seemed a bit nervous, so I went in to speak to her. But she said everything was all right and that she'd meet me out here in a few minutes. It's quarter of an hour now. I think he's threatening her with something."
Haynes was evidently worried. I wondered whether he was afraid that Ames might worm from her some secret common to the two, for I did not doubt that Ames was a clever and subtle attorney and capable of obtaining a great deal of information by his kind of kid-glove third degree.
"I should like to see both of them," decided Craig quickly.
Before Haynes could say anything more, he strode into the hotel parlor. Haynes and I followed a short distance behind.
There was an air of tense, suppressed excitement in the group, but of all of us, I felt that Madame Dupres was the coolest.
"I see you've lost no time in getting busy," nodded Craig to Ames.