But Darrell was thinking of something else. He had in mind the stalwart figure and pleasing face of Joe Leslie.
Between the two he saw no choice.
Still, this man was in a way distinguished by his poetical appearance—his face was smooth, all but a wavy mustache, and he wore his hair down upon his shoulders.
Eric spent some time talking to the druggist, but he kept watch upon the Leslie domicile. At eleven the stranger came out. He was given egress by Mrs. Leslie, and Darrell was put in mind of the photograph Joe had shown him.
His business now was to discover who this gentleman was.
He followed him to the elevated railroad, and went in the car next to that which the man under surveillance entered.
Thus, at about eleven twenty-three, he followed the other along Twenty-third Street and saw him enter a certain building among the handsome stores.
Still pursuing his man, carefully keeping him under his eye, he watched until the other had entered a room on the top floor.
There was a door-plate in sight.