"Running every way, I thought. What kind of a man was this Barry
Langmore?"
"A fairly good sort. He wanted everything that was coming to him, and so did his wife. She was a tartar and so was the girl. I shouldn't have wanted to live in the house with them."
At that moment another man appeared at the doorway.
"Hullo! got company?" he called out.
"Not exactly, Bart," answered Matlock Styles. "Excuse me for a moment," he continued, to the detective, and passed out of the room and to the kitchen with the newcomer.
He was gone for several minutes and during that time Adam Adams finished his lunch and took a good look at the room he occupied. There was nothing unusual about the apartment and his survey was finished before the Englishman returned.
"Now I think I'll pay you and be on my way," said Adam Adams, rising. There seemed to be no excuse for his lingering longer. "How much do I owe you?"
"Not a blasted farthing."
"Then I am much obliged. Will you have a smoke?" and Adam Adams handed forth a couple of choice Havana cigars.
"I don't know as I care to smoke, Mr.—You didn't give me your name."