"What is his name?" demanded Barnes.
"Something like Hackensack."
"Have they caught the thief?"
"I should say not. The police never ketch anything but drunks in this burg, and they wouldn't ketch them if they could keep from stumblin'."
"What time did all this happen?" Barnes was having great difficulty in keeping his coffee from splashing over.
"Doc Smith figgers it was long about midnight, judgin' by the way the blood co'gulated."
"Did they get away with much?"
"Haven't heard. Joe says the stove pipe in the feller's room was knocked down and they's soot all over everything. Looks like they must have been a struggle. Seems as though the burglar,—must ha' been more'n one of 'em, I say,—wasn't satisfied with cracking him over the head. He stuck the point of a knife or something into him,—just a little way, Joe says—in more'n a dozen places. What say?"
"I—I didn't say anything."
"I thought you did. Well, if I hear anything more I'll let you know."