“’Tis beyond me what you got out of that interview,” Dennis declared. “Stalling, is what I’d have called it!”
“The two of us!” McCarty agreed with a chuckle. “Him as well as me. He’ll not be dragging his friends into this business if he can help it!... Who’s the lanky, worried-looking guy talking to Bill?”
Halfway down the block, a tall, thin, bespectacled young man was gesticulating nervously as he confronted the watchman whose vehement shakes of the head denoted protestation. While they watched, the young man turned abruptly and made for the Goddard house. Bill advanced slowly toward them.
“Have you fellows seen the Goddard boy?” he asked. “He’s the red-headed kid you saw me let in the first day you came. That was his private teacher who’s been looking for him for an hour but he didn’t go out either of the gates.”
“Maybe he did awhile back when that one was left open,” McCarty suggested dryly.
“Good Lord, did you know that!” Bill gasped. “If you let on it’ll cost me my job, and I only stepped ’round the corner for a smoke! The kid’s all right, but they treat him like a baby. Did you find out yet who killed Hughes?”
“We’re waiting for news every minute,” McCarty assured him gravely as they reached the western gate. “I shouldn’t wonder if it came to-night.”
“Now what in the world did you give him that bunk for?” demanded Dennis, when they had left the Mall safely behind them.
“I said ‘news,’ but not of what kind, Denny,” replied his companion with dignity. “You’re not on duty till morning?”
“No, I was thinking I’d drop in at Molly’s, now the kid has got over the measles.”