"It was Tobin," said he. "It came to me that it was, but I wanted to be sure." He pushed the drawer into place, looked at his friend inquiringly, and added: "Suppose we go around to the 'Rangnow' and see him?"
CHAPTER XX
ONE OF THE OLD SORT
Pendleton looked at his friend in bewilderment.
"You don't mean to say that the philosopher of the Coffin Club and this Tobin of young Morris's are the same," cried he.
"I only think they are," said Ashton-Kirk quietly. "But we can make sure by paying a short visit to the apartment house."
"Now?"
"There is no time like the present."
And so the end of a half hour found them stepping out of a cab at the extreme west end of the city. It was only a little after nine o'clock, but the streets were almost deserted; the arc-lamps clicked and hissed lonesomely; rows of darkened windows and shadowy doorways ran away on both sides.