"You've been on a drunk," said McQuade, quickly noting the puffed eyes and haggard cheeks.
"But I've got what I went after, all the same," replied Bolles truculently.
"What have you got? If you've done any faking, I'll break every bone in your body."
"Now, look here, Mr. McQuade; don't talk to me like that."
"What have you got, then?"
"Well, I've got something that's worth five hundred; that's what. I worked like a nigger for a month; pumped everybody that ever knew him. Not a blame thing, till night before last I ran into the janitor of the apartments where Warrington lived."
"Go on."
"He'd been fired, and I got him drunk. I asked him if any women had ever gone up to Warrington's rooms. One. He was sitting in the basement. It was a hot night, and he was sitting up because he could not sleep. At midnight a coupe drove up, and Warrington and a woman alighted. From the looks of things she was drunk, but he found out afterward that she was very sick. The woman remained in Warrington's apartments till the following morning."
"When was all this?"
"About four years ago. She left very early."