"You mean——" and Bat looked at him, only dimly grasping what was behind the words.
"That I depend upon you to suggest this to her," said the other. "It's the sort of thing she'll do, once it's in her mind."
"But," asked the astonished big man, "what's it for?"
"I want to pay another visit to her house," said Ashton-Kirk, coolly, "when she is not there."
CHAPTER V
The Hound and the Scent
The next morning at a trifle past nine, Bat Scanlon once more presented himself in Ashton-Kirk's study. He found the investigator attired in a well-fitting suit of rough, gray material; a light stick and a cap lay upon a table, while their owner, his hands deep in his trousers pockets, paced the floor.
"I've been through a half dozen newspapers since breakfast," said he. "The reporters and the city editors have had a great deal to say about what they call the 'Stanwick Mystery'; but they have unearthed nothing that's at all suggestive."
"Not a thing," verified Bat. "At least, nothing that I haven't seen or heard myself—except that the sick girl—Mary Burton—has taken to her bed."