"It's hardly probable," I added, "that if my friend and I had been guilty of any crime, he'd have stopped to warn the police, and I'd have waited here for you to come and take me."
"That's true," he assented; "but I don't quite see what your business was here."
"My friend's a reporter on the New York Record," I explained.
"Oh, a reporter!" he repeated, instantly drawing the inference which I hoped he would. "That explains it. But, of course, Mr. Lester, you, as a lawyer, know that you had no right to enter a house in that way. It was your duty to inform the police."
"There are emergencies," I protested, "in which one must take affairs into one's own hands."
"I admit that; but whether this was one of them——"
"Doesn't it look as if it was?" I asked.
"Well, that's not for me to decide. I understand you're staying at the Sheridan?"
"Yes—at least, I was staying there yesterday. I gave up my room, not knowing that I'd need it again. I'm about dead for sleep."
He pondered for a moment, looking at my card.