Janet told Stillman about seeing Virginia Collier, and gave him a fairly minute description of the woman Virginia was with. The reporter smoked a cigarette, and considered.
“I think I can find that lady with the snow-white hair,” he said, after a time. “Leave it to me. You’ll hear from me just as soon as I have something to tell.”
With a promising air of confidence, he took his departure, leaving Kennedy and Locke to attend to the matter of Wiley and Mysterious Jones. Of course, the southpaw told the old manager all about Skullen’s attempt at revenge, but he did not do so within the hearing of Janet, whom he did not care to alarm. The veteran chuckled over the result of the encounter in the back room of Mike’s saloon.
“Right from the first,” he said, “you was picked for something soft and easy. I knew you was a fighter, son, but Weegman and his gang didn’t know it. Mebbe they’ll begin to guess the fact pretty soon.”
A few minutes after eight that evening, Stillman returned to the hotel and found Locke waiting with what patience he could command. The reporter wore a smile, but he declined to answer questions.
“Mrs. James A. Vanderpool’s private car is waiting for us at the door,” he said. “Bring Mrs. Hazelton, Lefty. We’re going to make a call.”
“Mrs. Vanderpool? The widow of the traction magnate? Why, what–”
“Now don’t waste time! Somebody else can gratify your curiosity a great deal better than I. In fact, I know so little about the facts at the bottom of this queer business that any explanations I’d make would be likely to ball things up.”
The magnificent residence of the late James Vanderpool was on upper Fifth Avenue. They were ushered into a splendid reception room. In a few minutes an aristocratic-looking woman with white hair entered, her appearance bringing an involuntary exclamation to Janet’s lips.
“It’s the very one!” she breathed excitedly, her fingers gripping Lefty’s arm. Stillman introduced them to Mrs. Vanderpool, who met them graciously.