"Then she hands me five dollars, and says that if I did drive you to any other hotel, I was to let her know which one it was."
"Where?" Grace asked, eagerly.
The man fished from his pocket a small bit of cardboard upon which was scrawled with a pencil "Alice Watson, General Delivery."
Grace stared at the bit of paper in surprise. Had she, by some lucky chance, discovered the very person for whom Richard was seeking? Of course the name was probably a fictitious one, and the address "General Delivery," meant nothing, and yet, it provided a clew by means of which this woman might be found.
"You have acted very wisely, Leary," she said. "I am greatly obliged to you."
"Do you want me to send her any word, ma'am?"
"I may. I am anxious to get hold of this woman, or, to be more exact, my husband is. I will consult with him first, however. It may be that he will want you to write her a letter, giving her some such information as she desires, and then, by going to the general delivery window at the post office and watching, identify her when she comes for it. Do you think you could arrange to get off and do this?"
"Well, ma'am, even if I can't arrange to get off, you could of course hire my cab, and——"
"Of course," Grace interrupted. "Very well. I will let you know further about the matter a little later. Meanwhile, here is something more for your trouble." She gave the man another bill. "Now drive me to the Grand Theater."