"Zese are ze rooms, monsieur; zey are ver' fine."
I looked around them with simulated interest, smothering my disgust as well as I could.
"How long have they been vacant?" I asked.
"Since only two days, monsieur; as you see, zey are ver' fine rooms."
That settled it. If they had been vacant only two days, I had no further interest in them, and with some excuse I made my way out, glad to escape from that fetid atmosphere of garlic and onions. So I went from house to house; stumbling over dirty children; climbing grimy stairs, catching glimpses of crowded sweat-shops; peering into all sorts of holes called rooms by courtesy; inhaling a hundred stenches in as many minutes; gaining an insight that sickened me into the squalid life of the quarter. Sometimes I began to hope that at last I was on the right track; but further inquiry would prove my mistake. So the morning passed, and the afternoon. I had covered two blocks to no purpose, and at last I turned eastward to Broadway, and took a car downtown to the office. My assistants had reported again—they had met with no better success than I. Mr. Graham noticed my dejected appearance, and spoke a word of comfort.
"I think you're on the right track, Lester," he said. "But you can't hope to do much by yourself—it's too big a job. Wouldn't it be better to employ half a dozen private detectives, and put them under your supervision? You could save yourself this nerve-trying work, and at the same time get over the ground much more rapidly. Besides, experienced men may be able to suggest something that you've overlooked."
I had thought of that—I had wondered if I were making the best possible use of my opportunities—and the suggestion tempted me. But something rose within me—pride, ambition, stubbornness, what you will—and I shook my head, determined to hang on. Besides, I had still before me that battle of wits with Martigny, and I was resolved to make the most of it.
"Let me keep on by myself a day or two longer, sir," I said. "I believe I'll succeed yet. If I don't there will still be time to call in outside help. I fancy I've made a beginning, and I want to see what comes of it."
He shook me kindly by the hand.
"I like your grit," he said approvingly, "and I've every confidence in you—it wasn't lack of confidence that prompted the suggestion. Only don't overdo the thing, and break down as Royce has. He's better, by the way, but the doctor says that he must take a long vacation—a thorough rest."