The gray eyes, expressionless, met his for a moment.
"Exactly."
Fairchild departed from headquarters like a man walking in his sleep.
CHAPTER II
FAIRCHILD REDIVIVUS
On the morning of the day on which the Captain of detectives chose to efface himself from the stage of the "Westbrook-De Sanchez Drama" to a position behind the scenes, two things came to his notice that had for him more than a passing interest. The first we may present as it appeared, set in modest and inconspicuous agate type, among the court notes of a certain newspaper.
No. 26004. In re Estate of Peyton Westbrook, deceased. Report of appraisers approved and filed. The report shows that there are no assets under the will except the homestead, which is reserved to the widow.
The other matter was embodied in a communication which lay on his desk at headquarters. It was the resignation of one of his subordinates—the man Adams, him of the shifty eyes and stealthy ways, whose manner the night of the De Sanchez affair had made Lynden so uncomfortable.
The fact that General Peyton Westbrook was actually penniless came like a bombshell to a community that had so long looked up to him as a leading citizen, a man of affairs and affluence, whose very name was a synonyme for business acumen and success; but the fact became only more certain with the passing days, though the public learned little more of it than was contained in the notice quoted.
Converse sat musing for a time, then he tossed Adams's letter into a pigeonhole. "Going to start a private agency, eh? Very good; I wish you luck. Now there's a place for McCaleb." He dismissed the matter from his mind, and at once remembered the morning's chief engagement. It was time to keep tryst with Miss Charlotte and her brother.