McCarty chuckled.
“And that’s your idea of science, is it? Maybe ’tis as good as any other!—Now let’s go and ease the old gentleman’s mind about his stolen property.”
But they were destined to meet with still another delay, for on entering the west gate of the Mall they encountered Mr. Gardner Sloane. The supercilious manner had fallen from him and he greeted them with marked cordiality.
“Horrible week we’ve been through, gentlemen!” he declaimed. “Leaving the death of Orbit’s valet out of it, a murder, a kidnapping and two robberies make a frightful record to contemplate. I trust you are taking every measure to protect us here? By gad, there’s no telling where this thing will strike next!”
“Did you ever find your key to the gates?” McCarty asked suddenly.
“Confound it, no; had to have another one made!” Sloane fumed. “Let me see, it was a week ago that I missed it. I’d used it Saturday morning to enter the east gate, I remember it distinctly, and I must have dropped it near the Parsons house.—But I hope you’ll tell your inspector that I depend on him to have a special watch kept over our home; my father had a very bad turn on Tuesday and if any excitement like a burglary were to take place it might prove fatal.”
“Did you get a good nurse for him?” McCarty asked solicitously. “The last one you had beat it, didn’t he?”
“Otto? Oh, he’s back; came Tuesday afternoon, fortunately. Stupid ass but a splendid attendant and my father’s used to him.—You won’t forget to have us properly guarded?”
McCarty reassured him heartily and as they watched him swing off toward the Avenue with a jaunty air Dennis remarked:
“So Lindholm showed up again, and we never even thought of it! On Tuesday, too! Do you suppose—?”