"Don't know the fellow," was the prompt response.
"You mean to say you didn't meet Blackie Crowden at Bissette's?" cried Songbird.
"Look here, young man, what are you driving at?" stormed Belright Fogg, in a sudden temper. "You've no right to question me in this manner. What is it all about?"
"We have it on good authority that you met this man, Blackie Crowden, outside of Bissette's place," answered Sam, stoutly.
"Who is this man you mention?"
"Being a lawyer and interested in public affairs, you ought to know that, Mr. Fogg," answered Songbird. "He is the man who, we think, knocked me down and robbed me of Mr. Sanderson's four thousand dollars."
"Ah! I—I remember now. And so you are trying to connect me up with that rascal, are you? What do you mean by that?"
"Never mind what we mean," declared the would-be poet of Brill, stoutly. "I want to get at the facts in this matter. If you say you didn't meet Crowden, all right, we'll let it go at that. But there are others who say you did meet him."
"It's false—absolutely false!" roared Fogg, but as he spoke his face paled greatly. "I—I don't know this fellow, Crowden—never met him in my life. This is all a put-up job on your part to make trouble for me," and he glared savagely at both Songbird and Sam.
"It's no put-up job, Mr. Fogg. We intend to get at the bottom of this sooner or later," answered Sam, as calmly as he could. "Come on, Songbird."