"He resisted and assaulted the police. I'll tell you about it later. Well, Smith told me of the alterations in Peaceful Moments, and I saw that it was just the thing for me. And it has occupied my mind quite some. To think of you being the writer of those Broster Street articles! You certainly have started something, Betty! Goodness knows where it will end. I hoped to have brought off a coup this afternoon, but the arrival of Sam and his friends just spoiled it."
"This afternoon? Yes, why were you there? What were you doing?"
"I was interviewing the collector of rents and trying to dig his employer's name out of him. It was Smith's idea. Smith's theory was that the owner of the tenements must have some special private reason for lying low, and that he would employ some special fellow, whom he could trust, as a rent-collector. And I'm pretty certain he was right. I cornered the collector, a little, rabbit-faced man named Gooch, and I believe he was on the point of—What's the matter?"
Betty's forehead was wrinkled. Her eyes wore a far-away expression.
"I'm trying to remember something. I seem to know the name, Gooch. And I seem to associate it with a little, rabbit-faced man. And—quick, tell me some more about him. He's just hovering about on the edge of my memory. Quick! Push him in!"
John threw his mind back to the interview in the dark passage, trying to reconstruct it.
"He's small," he said slowly. "His eyes protrude—so do his teeth—He—he—yes, I remember now—he has a curious red mark—"
"On his right cheek," said Betty triumphantly.
"By Jove!" cried John. "You've got him?"
"I remember him perfectly. He was—" She stopped with a little gasp.