“Shannon!” Patsy echoed the name mentally, with a thrill of increasing elation. “That’s the name of the attendant the chief saw in Doctor Devoll’s private room. He answers his description, too. Gee whiz, the net is tightening for fair! It now is a cinch that Doctor Devoll is one of the gang, and very possible the big finger.”
Patsy missed nothing that was said while these thoughts flashed through his mind. Shannon had stopped short the moment he saw the chauffeur, to whom he quickly replied, and with his gruff voice only slightly subdued:
“You’re wanted, Toby.”
“Wanted by——”
“You know,” Shannon cut in quickly. “I have orders for you.”
“What’s doing? Why did you come here after me?”
“I’ll tell you on the way. This is no time or place. Get a move on and go with me.”
“I’ll go with you also if it’s all the same to you two rascals—or whether it is or not,” thought Patsy as he edged toward the door and followed the two men to the street.