"Well, all I know is he got in at nine thirty and was back at the station by ten o'clock."
"Maybe he went right out to Cleveland again. There's a train around ten thirty, I think."
"Guess that's what he did."
Steve Cronin tossed a few articles in the bag.
"I'll run along, Steve," said Wally. "If I see him up at the hotel, I'll drop over to the station before you leave."
He unlocked the door and went out. Cronin continued packing. Wally had closed the door, but Steve did not bother to lock it, although he kept his eyes upon it.
"Feel creepy again," he mumbled. "Guess I'll hop for the station."
He walked to the door. He turned out the light, then noticed that he had left the desk lamp burning. The room was gloomy and shadowy under the dim illumination.
He placed one hand on the doorknob. Then he glanced into the nearest corner — a space alongside the bed. It was quite dark there, and the blackness seemed to be actually solid.
"Whew," said Steve Cronin aloud. "Look at that shadow! Looks real."