Mann looked for Lamont Cranston among the men present. He did not see him. Somehow, Mann could not help but associate Cranston with the good fortune which had befallen him. For months, he had been brooding over his financial troubles, but had mentioned them to no one until he had encountered Cranston last night.
IT was shortly after that that the man in black had appeared to offer life instead of death. Mann, careful and analytical in reasoning, could see no definite connection between Cranston and the mysterious stranger; yet the association persisted in his mind.
It was eleven o’clock. Mann decided to return to his apartment. He went to the check room for his coat.
He was leisurely tonight, for the old, worn coat had been replaced by a new one. Mann donned the garment and received his cane and hat with it. Like the coat, these articles were new.
He strolled across the lobby, said good night to the man stationed at the door, and stepped out to the sidewalk.
It was drizzling again. Mann looked for a cab. He heard a horn toot. A taxi man had spotted him beneath the lighted marquee in front of the club.
But before he could bring up his vehicle, another cab shot from across the street and stopped suddenly in front of Rutledge Mann. A businesslike driver opened the door, and Mann stepped in. The cab rolled away while Mann was giving his destination.
The disappointed taxi driver swung alongside with his cab and delivered a barrage of oaths at Mann’s driver, but that was the end of it. Mann smiled. These fellows took their competition keenly.
“Now,” said Mann aloud, as he sank back in the cushions of the cab, “let’s think some more about Double Z.”
“Have you formed any conclusions?” The words caused Mann to start. They had come from beside him, in a whispered voice that he recognized instantly. He turned in astonishment. Beside him sat the mysterious man who had visited him last night! At least, Mann was positive of his companion’s identity, even though he could see nothing but a black form in the corner of the cab.