Willitts, astride his wheel, stretched a feeling foot for the pedal:
"Yes, I saw it in the papers."
"Easy money for somebody."
"Yes, but is there somebody beside the thief—or thieves—who knows? That's the question."
They pedaled back side by side talking amicably, mutually pleased to find they were neighbors. On the outskirts of the village they parted with promises for a speedy reunion, Willitts to go to the Hartleys, and Mr. Larkin to Sommers' garage to ask the price of a flivver for an excursion beyond the reach of his bicycle.
When he arrived at the garage a large touring car, packed full of veiled females, was drawn up at the entrance. The driver, with Sommers and his assistant beside him, had opened the hood and the three of them were peering into the inner depths with the anxious concentration of doctors studying the anatomy of a patient. Mr. Larkin walked by them and went into the garage. He cast a rapid look about him, over the lined-up motors in the back, and then through the doorway into the small office. The place was empty. With a stealthy glance at the party round the touring car, he strolled in to where the time card rack hung on the wall. He ran his eye down the list of names until he came to "Price" and drew out the card. The second entry was dated July seventh and showed that that night Price had taken out his car at eight-thirty and not returned it until five minutes to two.
[CHAPTER X—MOLLY'S STORY]
As soon as I had the notes of that 'phone message down I wrote a report for the Whitney office—just an outline—and posted it myself in the village. The answer with instructions came the following evening. The next time Miss Maitland went into town I was to come with her. In the concourse of the Pennsylvania station I'd see O'Malley (the Whitneys' detective) and it would be my business to point her out to him. He was to follow her and I to come to the office and make my full report. Say nothing of what I'd heard to Mrs. Janney.
That was Tuesday; Thursday was Miss Maitland's holiday and right along she'd been going into town. Wednesday afternoon I heard her say she'd go in as usual on the eight forty-five, tipped off the office by 'phone, and told Mrs. Janney I'd need that day to make a report to Mr. Whitney—a business formality that had to be observed.
Miss Maitland and I went in together, looking very sociable on the outside, and talking about the weather, the new style in skirts, how flat Long Island was, and other such ladylike topics. Coming off the train I stuck to her like a burr, was almost arm in arm going up the stairs, and then in the concourse broke myself loose and faded away toward the news stand. Right there, leaning against the magazine end, I'd seen a large, fat, sloppy-looking man, with a tired panama hat back from his forehead, and a masonic emblem on his watch chain.