"What thing?" asked Ashton-Kirk.
Dennison looked at the speaker as though astonished that any one could be for even a moment in doubt as to his meaning.
"Why," said he, "that murder—last night."
"I guess that's one I haven't heard about," said Bat Scanlon, and Ashton-Kirk regarded the man with the paunch steadily, but said nothing.
"Not heard of that!" The man pointed an amazed finger at the discarded heap about the investigator's chair. "Why, every paper in town is just screaming about it. The police are at a standstill. The papers say they don't know what to do."
Just then a door opened; a fiery head was thrust into the room and a squeaky boy-voice called out:
"Mr. Scanlon! On the 'phone!"
When he reached the little office which opened from the lounging room, the red-haired boy further informed Bat:
"It's a lady, and she sounds like she was in a hurry."
Scanlon went to the telephone and took down the receiver.