"What is the building at Columbus Avenue and 96th Street?" Duvall asked, as the man, pulling on the coat his wife handed him, strode down the hall.
"An apartment building, sir."
"And why did Mrs. Duvall go there?"
"Well, sir, we was following a woman, sir. She went to a hotel on Seventy-second Street, and Mrs. Duvall told me to watch for her. I did, and tracked her to the place at 96th Street. Then I telephoned to Mrs. Duvall to come, and she did."
"What time was that?"
"About half-past nine, sir."
"All right. Go on."
"Mrs. Duvall came, sir, in another taxi. I pointed out the place where the woman went in, and Mrs. Duvall went in after her. She didn't say I was to wait, but I guess she expected me to, because she had sent the other cab away. I waited over two hours, and then, when she didn't come out, I supposed she had returned to her hotel, so I came back, too. She wasn't there, though. That's why I left the note."
"How did you think Mrs. Duvall could have gotten back to her hotel, if you were watching the door of the apartment house all the time?"
"I wasn't watching it all the time, sir. I went into the drug store once, sir, and got a cigar. And then, later on, I went to a saloon a piece down the Avenue and got a glass of beer. Mrs. Duvall didn't say I was to watch the place, sir. I thought when she got through what she had to do, she would come back to the cab. But she didn't. Do you think I ought to have waited, sir?" The man seemed greatly distressed.