“I thought I heard the door first.”
“Because you were asleep,” smiled the detective, “and you hear the last sound first. No, I will give you a guarantee that he shot at me before he shut the door.” His eyes narrowed. “I wonder,” he said softly.
“What?”
“I wonder if your friend has had a duplicate of this attack? Where is he staying?”
“I think we ought to warn him, anyway,” said Tab. “Our visitor came in the first place to burgle Rex’s trunks and probably he doesn’t know that Rex isn’t staying here. He is at the Pitt Hotel.”
Carver got the telephone directory and discovered the number. It was some time before he had an answer, for the clerks at the Pitt Hotel are not accustomed to calls at that hour of the morning. Presently he got into touch with a porter.
“I don’t know whether he is staying here, but I will find out,” said that official.
It was ten minutes before he had made the discovery.
“Yes, he is in Room 180. Shall I put you through?”
“If you please,” said Carver. He heard the click and clug of the connection being made and after an appreciable delay Rex’s sleepy voice answered him.