Farland exhibited his shield, and the old janitor recoiled, fright depicted in his face.
"I ain't done anything wrong, mister," he said hoarsely. "I obey all the regulations about ashes and garbage and everything like that."
"Don't be afraid of me," Farland said. "I'm not accusing you of doing anything wrong, am I? I can see that you're a law-abiding man. You haven't nerve enough to be anything else. Suppose you step outside with me for a few minutes. I just want to ask you a few questions about something."
"All right, sir, if that's it," the old janitor said.
He opened the front door and led the way outside, and Farland forced him to walk a short distance down the street, and there they stopped in a doorway to talk.
"I'm going to ask you a few questions, and you are going to answer them, and then you are going to forget that you ever saw me or that I ever asked you a thing," Farland said.
"I understand, sir. I won't give away any police business," the old janitor replied. "I know all about such things. I had a nephew once who was a policeman."
"There's a party living in your place who goes by the name of Gilbert, isn't there?"
"Yes, sir."
"How many are there in the family, and who are they, and what do you know about them?"