"No," returned Forrester, "between now and Saturday I am going to be very busy on this 'Friends of the Poor' matter. I don't intend to let any grass grow under my feet in running them to earth." Then he added, laughing, "However, after Saturday I may have to hang around the club for protection."
"If I can be of any help, don't fail to call upon me," offered Prentice. "Good-bye."
"Good-bye!" called Forrester, as the car shot off up the drive.
Forrester was glad that his mother and sister were not at home. His mind was concentrated on the peculiar situation in which he now found himself, and he felt little inclination to talk. His mother certainly would have noticed his preoccupation and guessed that something was wrong. It would have been difficult to keep up the pretense of having nothing on his mind. At this time he did not intend to tell his family anything about the warning he had received, for it would worry them unnecessarily, especially after the fate which had overtaken Mr. Nevins.
After dinner Forrester went to the library, hunted up his pipe and sat down to think. He had just settled back in his chair when he heard the door-bell, and a minute later a maid announced that a reporter from the Times wished to see him. Forrester hesitated as he ran the matter over in his mind. He disliked publicity and this call certainly meant publicity. On the other hand, he was seeking all the information and help which he could get, and it was a well-known fact that newspaper reporters frequently solved mysteries which baffled the police. Forrester decided, therefore, that he really had little to lose and perhaps much to gain by allowing the reporter to interview him, so he instructed the maid to send the man in.
The young man entered the library briskly, giving a quick and comprehensive glance around the room before addressing Forrester.
"Mr. Forrester?" he inquired.
"Yes," replied Forrester, affably. "Take this chair and make yourself at home."
As the young man sat down, Forrester turned back the lid of a humidor and pushed it along the library table.
"Gee!" said the young man, selecting a cigar. "You seem glad to see me. I don't always get a greeting like this."