When he awakened a dark day had broken and he lay for a time listening to the wind roaring down the chimney and the rain driving in sheets against the windows while he formed an immediate plan. He must work alone, for Denny would be on duty again for twenty-four hours straight, and he welcomed the fact. If there were to be any further attempts made upon him, the faithful Denny must not share the danger; it would be just Denny’s luck to walk into a trap not meant for him!
As for himself, McCarty meant to give his adversary every opportunity to try again. He shaved and dressed, and as he did so his blood raced as in the old days, with joy of the contest, yet now for the first time in his career he was hunted, not hunter; he had, in a twinkling, changed places with the arch-murderer and child-stealer and the thought gave added zest to the problem of the future. He was leaving for his accustomed restaurant when the telephone shrilled and he paused before taking down the receiver.
His visitor of the night before could already have learned from the papers that his attempt had failed, but what if he were ringing up now to be sure that the event had not actually occurred and remained as yet undiscovered? Would he betray himself by surprise at the sound of his intended victim’s voice?
McCarty unhooked the receiver, waited a moment, and then called in a sudden, hearty tone:
“Hello!”
“Am I addressing ex-Roundsman McCarty?” The voice which came to him was elderly and formal, and, as McCarty replied in the affirmative, he was certain he had never heard it before.
“Inspector Druet suggested that I telephone and ask you for an interview on a strictly private matter, Mr. McCarty. This is Benjamin Parsons speaking, of Number Seven, New Queen’s Mall.” His tone betrayed not the slightest emotion. “Can you tell me when you will be at liberty to come to me?”
“In one hour, Mr. Parsons,” McCarty responded promptly. “’Tis about what happened night before last?”
“Yes.” There was a note of finality in the quick, firm monosyllable. “In an hour, Mr. McCarty.”
The click of a distant receiver came to his ears and McCarty went out with a puzzled frown. Had the inspector an inkling as to the identity of Parsons’ “burglar” and was he passing the buck?