One waiter said he thought he had seen him before, but wasn't sure. The man was gone, and no one knew which direction he had taken from the restaurant.
Iris was disheartened at the report of her emissary.
"If you'd only got here sooner!" she reproached the detective.
"Did my best," he assured her. "Describe your man more accurately."
But Iris couldn't seem to think of any very distinguishing characteristics that fitted him.
"His name is Pollock," she said, "and he's a collector. Oh, wait, I do know something more. He's in the hardware business."
"For himself, or with a firm?"
"I don't know."
"Then, I fear, Miss Clyde, we're wasting time in looking for a person so vaguely identified. If you say so, I can go over the hardware people for a Pollock, but it will be an unsatisfactory and expensive process."
"I don't want that," and Iris looked perplexed. "Oh, I don't know what I do want! But it's maddening to see him, and then have him get away! He's also a collector."