“Yep, Chief! He’s gone on her. He tended to some funeral matters connected with Stockbridge, bought some flowers—three dozen lilies of the valley—then came on up here. I’ve been waiting a long time.”
“Seen anybody about?”
“Delaney and some Central Office men—that’s all! Shall I stay here?”
“Not here! Jump back in the alley and watch the junction-box. I think Delaney has been there. You’ll find the snow melted in spots. Plant somewhere, and keep your eyes open. Grab anybody you see tampering with the wires to the house. I’m looking for trouble to-night. They threatened Loris with a letter this afternoon.”
Drew did not stop to explain. He hurried on ahead of O’Toole, turned at the iron-grilled gate, passed through and pressed the button.
A Central Office man with a gold-badge showing, jerked the door open and glanced out. He blinked sagely as he recognized the detective.
“All right!” said Drew. “Let me in!”
The door swung wider. Drew lunged through and turned. “What’s new?” he asked, pointing a thumb over his shoulder. “Are those servants still under arrest?”
“Some of them, Inspector,” grunted the Central Office man. “I can’t talk much. Fosdick gave me hell for talking to a newspaper man. He left word, though, that you could come in.”
“Thanks!” Drew said dryly. “Thanks! That’s kind of him. You are holding down this door?”