“It’s queer,” said Willie. “I can’t seem to remember seeing that name at all.”
“We’ll look him up in a directory or a telephone book. He’ll be in one or the other, for he’s been in New York for some years, according to the records you looked up.”
They stepped into a drug store and Mr. Easterly consulted a telephone book. “He doesn’t have a ’phone,” he said. Then he turned to the directory. There was no one listed in the directory under the name Marrash Roukas.
“Humph!” mused the Special Agent. “This is getting interesting. I don’t see how the census takers ever missed a merchant like that. We’ll have to go to original sources. Come on.”
They went down one street and up another, examining every name on every shop in the district. When they were done, they knew no more about Marrash Roukas than they knew when they started. Apparently there was no such person in the Armenian quarter or in New York City.
CHAPTER XIII
SAVED BY WIRELESS
It was only by a lively sprint that Willie got back to his office within the time limit set by Mr. King. In fact, it was two minutes past one before Willie was really in his own office and at his post. How different that old gate looked now! As it swung open, it was almost like a welcoming hand extended in greeting.
Willie was just bursting to tell the news, but he had no opportunity to do so until Mr. King came in from his luncheon.
“Well, what luck, Hawkshaw?” said Mr. King.
“The best of luck,” said Willie, and he told his boss about the discoveries Mr. Easterly and he had made.