“Humph—I don’t know. He wasn’t long on intimate friends!”
“Little liked?”
“I wouldn’t say that—but close friends, now—let me see; he was talking this afternoon with a bunch—Doctor Davenport, Phil Barry, Dean Monroe, Manning Pollard—oh, yes, Fred Lane. And maybe others. But I know I saw him in the group I’ve just mentioned. Call up Davenport.”
“Tell me the next best one to call.”
“Barry—but wait—they had a quarrel recently. Try Lane or Pollard.”
“Addresses?”
These were given and as soon as he could get connection, Prescott called Pollard.
But he was out, and Philip Barry was also.
“Can’t expect to get anybody at the dinner hour,” Prescott said, and looked at his watch. “After eight, already. One more throw, and then I make straight for the sister.”
Fred Lane proved available.