The latter ran here and there, not at right angles, but obliquely, in sweeping curves, circles, and what not. The houses were all different and distinctive in type, with not a single old-fashioned veranda to be seen. In short, the settlement on the hill aimed to be a modern and “artistic” suburban development, which, like most of its kind, was still in the early stages of growth.
Floral Avenue proved to be at the very end of the development, and everything about it seemed newest and most unfinished. At the corner of it stood a small house of two stories and a half, with dull-red shingled roof and trimmings.
Beside the door, in big, brass figures, was the number 31.
That it was the only house on the street seemed to have made no difference to the builder, who doubtless saw all the rest of the houses from one to thirty and on indefinitely in his mind’s eye.
No. 31 was very new, indeed. The lawn still plainly showed the seams where the strips of turf met, and the gravel walks evidently had not been rolled sufficiently, for they were scarred with footprints.
Plainly, Jack Cray had not looked for just this sort of thing. He paused at the gate and gave his red forehead a thoughtful mopping.
“Looks as if Griswold didn’t know the whole story, or forgot this part of it,” he speculated. “I got the impression that friend Simpson had been living in New Pelham for a long time, but he certainly hasn’t been living long in No. 31 Floral Avenue. Besides, this looks like a buying proposition, not a renting one.”
He ran his tongue along his lips, and a knowing look came into his eyes.
“I’ll bet he squeezed that fund for a few thousands before he raked in the whole bunch!” he muttered. “A little slick bookkeeping would have done the trick while they were disbursing funds for the immediate needs of the Hattontown sufferers. Some of it went into this house, if I’m not mighty badly mistaken, and I have a hunch that some more of it went to buy that electric machine he sported in Hattontown.”
Without further hesitation, Cray opened the gate and started up the front walk to an oddly shaped little stoop, which gave access to the front door. A neatly dressed servant answered his summons.