Meanwhile, the knock on the other door had been twice repeated—the man without was evidently growing impatient.
Mr. Darrell walked over to the door and opened it.
“What! you, Leslie, my boy? It’s good for sore eyes to see your face.”
They shook hands warmly.
Leslie walked in.
The detective had seen on the instant that his old-time friend was disturbed—Joe’s countenance had a gloomy look, totally at variance to the cheerful expression that generally marked it.
Of course Eric Darrell wondered to what he owed this visit.
Was it brought about by the fact that Joe’s wife had just been seated in the very chair he now threw his long form upon?
Since Joe’s marriage he had seen very little of him—their lines ran apart and seldom crossed, yet they had once been pretty good friends. Again the detective closed the door and fastened it against interruption.
Whatever the cause of Leslie’s visit, he meant to have a quiet chat with him.