“Circumstantial evidence does point toward him,” he admitted. “There is no doubt that Clark is a pretty thorough-going rascal. Have you tried to find out where he was on the night of the third?”
“Not yet. I came to find out if Clark had been arrested, to tell you of my suspicions, and to ask your advice in the matter.”
“My men are busy now tracing Clark’s career. If they discover any facts which point to the murder I will send for you. In the meantime, haven’t you a mutual friend who would know something of Clark’s life here?”
Dick’s face brightened. “Of course, there’s Charlie Archibald; he knows Clark pretty well. Charlie works in the Department of Justice. I’ll go right over there.” He rose as he spoke.
“Let me know the result,” said Chief Connor.
“All right, sir. Many thanks for your suggestion. Good-by.” And he hastened out of the building.
“The chase is getting warm,” thought Dick, as the taxi turned and started up Fifteenth Street. “If only—only Peggy meant what she said. Well, here’s for another try,” and he opened the door just as the car drew up in front of the Department of Justice.
Dick hastily threaded his way through the busy rooms searching for his friend.
“Hello, Charlie, you’re a sight for sair een,” he hailed. “Where have you been keeping yourself?”
“Oh, boning for an exam,” said Archibald, his tired face lighting up with a smile. “You look as if the world were treating you pretty well, Dick?”