"Boss ain't here. Went out at eight and ain't been back since. Want to leave message?"
McCoy snapped up the receiver and walked slowly into his room. So it was Gregory. Where had he been going at this time of night? And on the run, too. The forgetting of the paper was only a frame-up. Dick had acted funny. Now he knew it was because she wanted to get rid of him.
He sat on the bed, making no effort to remove his clothes. You're a poor fish, something whispered. Why don't you go and find out if they're double-crossing you? McCoy tried not to listen. For a long time he stared moodily at the floor. Then he rose and threw off his coat. Hastily replaced it and hurried to the door. He was ashamed of his suspicions. But he simply had to find out.
There was a light still burning in the Lang cottage when Gregory turned into the walk. Perhaps he was foolish to have returned. Still it would do no harm to warn the girl.
As he went up the steps he saw Miss Lang walking up and down the little hall. Tapping loudly, he summoned her to the door.
"Could I speak to Miss Dickie a moment?" he shouted. "It is something important."
Aunt Mary came out on the porch.
"If you wait a moment," she said, "my niece will be back. She left some time ago to take some medicine over to one of our neighbor's sick babies."
Gregory's fears multiplied.