“Suppose,” argued Bill, “that Deborah’s at Kolinski’s, and we see her being transferred to some other hiding place?”
“Use your own judgment in that case, my lad. The object is to get Deborah back, unharmed, of course. But you’ve evidently got a first class thug to deal with. And by the way, get one of your friends to stay in the house with Dorothy, if you possibly can. The thought of leaving her there worries me.”
“That will be taken care of,” returned Bill. “The New Canaan police have been notified. They are probably across the road now. I’ll see that she is well guarded.”
“Thanks, Bill. Good luck—and be careful.”
“I will—see you at Heartfield’s, sir.”
Bill hung up the receiver and went out to his car. He was surprised to find that it was raining.
CHAPTER VI
HEARTFIELD’S
Bill’s car sped into the sleeping town of Danbury. It splashed through the rain along streets where the lights ran together in golden pools. The swish of the water flying gutterwards was like the sound of the sea.
Bill spoke to Osceola: “There’s a dog wagon open,” and he pointed to a lighted sign. “Better eat. I had breakfast while I waited for the dope from Mr. Dixon.”
“If you had, no need of stopping then. Dorothy fed me before I left. I meant to ask you if you wanted anything, but this news from Mr. Dixon took it out of my head. There’s a sign that says Route 136—guess that’s our road.”