Here the old woman paused; and the secret agent, watching her face, saw the yellowish white change to gray.
"Well?" said he.
"She looked along the hall as if afraid of being seen," said the woman; "and all the time her fingers were picking—picking at something in the socket of the candlestick. She was just turning back into the room when she drew something out, looked at it and hid it in her glove. Then the light went out and I heard the bolt being drawn. I rushed down the stairs, but I was too late. The door opened and closed; I turned on the lights, but she was gone."
For a moment Ashton-Kirk stood studying the woman's face; then he stepped quickly to the desk and took up the candlestick. Something in the deep socket of this seemed to attract him and he turned on more lights. Under a cluster of incandescents he bent over the candlestick and examined it minutely; then the magnifying lens came into play as it had upon the broken knob of the highboy. One glance through this and he sprang to the street door. The next instant a piercing whistle shattered the quiet of Fordham Road.
[CHAPTER XIX]
The Taxi-Cab
For a few moments after the shrill blast of the whistle filled the suburban street, the secret agent waited upon the door-step. Then a thought seemed to occur to him, and with an angry exclamation he went quickly in and closed the door.
In a moment he was at the telephone, and stood with impatiently tapping foot until he was connected with the number called for; then the sleepy, dry voice of Fuller said complainingly in his ear: