“Mr. Goddard forbade me,” the wretched young man stammered, then drew himself up with a vain assumption of dignity. “Since it has nothing to do with the case—”
“We’re the best judges of that!” McCarty waved him away peremptorily. “Tell Mr. Goddard we’ll see him later.... Now, inspector, before we talk, if you’ll follow a suggestion of mine just once more, there’s a train Martin will be after catching and he’ll have to hustle to do it.”
The inspector eyed him keenly for a moment and then nodded.
“Go to it,” he said briefly. “Get the instructions, Martin.”
McCarty drew the young operative aside and after a brief interchange of words the latter took his departure. Then the inspector motioned the other two into the library and closed the door.
“Now I want an explanation of this!” he announced, in a tone which took McCarty swiftly back to the old days. “Why didn’t you report to me at once when you learned what had happened? What have you two been doing since? I made you deputies, but by the Lord I didn’t appoint you chiefs!”
McCarty told him in detail of their activities during the night and added frankly:
“I didn’t report, inspector, because I wanted a few hours’ the start of you, and that’s the truth. So far, I’ve only done what I think you would have, yourself, but I’m working from an angle of my own that you’d not have taken. I’ve sent Martin just now to Ellenville, to find out if this Blaisdell has heard anything of the lad, but that’s only routine; the real job is here in the Mall, even if Horace turns up dead or alive somewhere else.”
“What’s this angle of yours on the case?” the inspector demanded curtly. “What did Goddard forbid that tutor mentioning and why?”
McCarty described the interview with Mrs. Goddard and the inspector listened attentively, asking when he had finished: