"We found Mr. Fairchild's all right," the man whispered; "but Mr. Fairchild was not there. He has not returned from the office, and his sister and mother are very anxious. The mother is something of an invalid—didn't see her at all. Talked with the sister, who seemed, anyhow, to be the head. Pretended to want a notary and quizzed her, but she could tell me nothing. I don't believe horses could draw anything from her if she didn't want to tell. Captain Converse, sir, she had an eye that looked right into me all the time I was talking, and I know she thought I was lying when I said I wanted a notary." The man showed two rows of glistening white teeth in an unpleasant grin. "I did want a notary, but she didn't know I was so particular about which one. But I don't believe she knows where he is. I left Barton to watch the house, and I came on to report."
"Very good."
"And what shall I do now?"
"Keep your eye on this man here with me until I can send you relief; I shall keep Barton watching the house."
The manner of the man called Adams was both stealthy and ingratiating; his visage seemed unable to rid itself of a perpetual smile, which, taken with a pair of crafty, shifting eyes, gave him a sinister appearance. During the entire time he and Mr. Converse were talking, he kept looking past the latter at Lynden; and that this surreptitious espionage was extremely unpleasant was made manifest by the young man's growing uneasiness.
Still smiling, shooting a last rapid glance at Lynden, he departed as abruptly and noiselessly as he had come.
Converse turned to his companion, fixing him with a steely eye; and what he said seemed unaccountably to agitate the young man.
"I wish to remind you that you are a very important witness in this affair. I shall venture a hint and a word of advice: if you are not more circumspect on the witness-stand than you have been to-night, you will have a mighty bad hour; if you are contemplating a trip from the city, why—change your mind." With a curt "Good-night," he left Lynden speechless in the doorway of the Nettleton Building.
Lynden remained motionless many minutes. When he at last produced a cigarette from his pocket, the cupped hands holding the lighted match trembled so he had difficulty in igniting it. Abruptly he started away in a direction opposite that taken by the huge figure of the Captain.
Behind him moved a shadow so stealthily, its outlines so dim, that it was scarcely to be distinguished from the surrounding night.