Soon he was on his way to the nearest of the three residences of the lawyers who bore the same family name. When he arrived he found a rather tumbled-down looking place. Telling the hackman to wait for him, he ran up the steps and rang the bell.
No answer was returned and he rang again. Presently an upper window was thrown up, and a head thrust out.
"What's wanted?" asked a deep bass voice.
"I am looking for Mr. Farley, the lawyer," answered Robert.
"All right, I'm your man."
"Hardly," thought Robert.
"I mean Mr. Farley who has his office in the Phoenix Building," he went on, aloud.
"Oh!" came the disappointed grunt. "I am not the fellow."
"So I see. Will you please tell me where he lives?"
"Somewhere out on Michigan Avenue. I don't remember the number." And with this the upper window was closed with a bang.