“I’ll tell you it’s hard. Lots of fun I’d like to be let in on—but you’re kept outside.”
The drawbacks of the detective profession not being what Judson chiefly had on his mind he allowed the subject to drop. An interval of silence for the consumption 288 of a plateful of golden toasties permitted Gorry to begin again reminiscently.
“By the way, Judson, do you remember that about six months ago you was chewin’ over that girl of yours, and what had become of her?”
To himself Judson said: “That’s the talk; now we’re comin’ to business.” Aloud he made it: “Why, yes. Seems to me I do. She’s been gone so long I’d almost forgot her.”
“Well, what d’ye know? Last night—lemme see, was it last night?—no, night before last—I kind o’ got wind of her.”
“Heaven’s sake!”
“Guy I know was comin’ through East Sixty-seventh Street, and there was my lady, dressed to beat the band, leadin’ one of them little toy dogs, and talkin’ to a swell toff that lives in one of them houses. Got the number here in my pocket-book.”
While he was searching his pocket-book Judson asked, breathlessly: “Couldn’t be no mistake?”
“It’s nix on mistakes. That guy don’t make ’em. Surest thing on the force. He said, ‘Good afternoon, Miss Gravely’; and she said, ‘Good afternoon’ back to him—just like that. The guy walked on and turned a corner; but when he peeped back, there was the couple goin’ into the house just like husband and wife. What d’ye know?”
“What do I know? I know I’ll spill his claret for him before the week is out.”