A few moments later he had reached the sidewalk. He glanced at his watch. It was just eight o'clock. As he walked toward the entrance of the house at No. 162, the front door opened, and a woman came out.
Duvall quickened his pace, but the woman was also apparently in a great hurry. She ran swiftly across the sidewalk, and sprang into a cab which stood beside the curb. Duvall was able to get but a fleeting glance at her, but that glance was enough to convince him that she was the mysterious prisoner who had so neatly given him the slip while in the cab the night before. He sprang forward with a cry, but before he had come within ten feet of the cab, the vehicle dashed off and proceeded at a rapid rate up the street.
A second cab came along at almost the same moment. Duvall hailed it, but the driver shook his head, indicating that he had a fare. In a moment the second cab had passed, apparently in hot pursuit of the first. There were no other cabs in sight. With a growl of anger and annoyance Duvall turned back to the door of No. 162.
Should he ring the bell and ask for Miss Ford? he wondered. Of what use would it be, to request an interview? Yet there seemed to be nothing else that he could do. Miss Ford had not left the house, although the other woman, apparently her confederate, had done so. He stood in the shadow of the apartment building, trying to decide what move he should make next.
CHAPTER XIV
Grace Duvall, on being left at the hotel by her husband, spent a long and very tiresome afternoon. She had expected Richard back long before, with news, perhaps, of a successful investigation of the woman, Marcia Ford, whose address was so near that of the Mortons. But when six o'clock came, and went, with no news of her husband, Grace came to the conclusion that he had probably struck a long trail, and being a normally healthy person, with an excellent appetite, she went to the dining room and ordered dinner, leaving word at the desk where she would be, in case Richard returned.
Her lonely meal was over by seven, and, not knowing what to do next, Grace went out on the sidewalk, with the intention of looking for her friend of the evening before, the taxicab driver, Leary. It was possible that the man might have something more to report. As she reached the door, she saw him descend from his cab. He came forward at once, tipping his cap.
"Taxi, ma'am," he asked.
"No, I don't think so, Leary. Anything new?"
"Not a thing, ma'am. Haven't seen that party since. Can't I take you for a drive, ma'am?"