"No," explained Mrs. Forrester, "it was such a pleasant evening that I told William he need not return. After the excitement and worry we have been through I thought it would be good for us to walk home."
"It is not at all nice out now," said Forrester. "A heavy fog has come up. I think I would better call a taxicab."
Forrester went to the telephone and ordered a taxicab. Then he whispered to Nevins, "May I use a phone upstairs where I can talk without being overheard?"
"Yes," informed Nevins, "you will find a phone in Father's room."
Forrester went upstairs and called police headquarters. He briefly explained who he was, what had occurred on his walk over, and suggested that they watch for the strange car as he returned home.
"Leave the house in exactly fifteen minutes," instructed the man at headquarters, "and we'll be ready for you."
After returning to the library Forrester took an occasional surreptitious look at his watch and was pleased to hear the taxi driver ring the door-bell just as the fifteen minutes expired.
As Forrester assisted his mother down the steps he glanced hastily around. The fog was still heavy. He could make out nothing save the taxicab at the curb, but just as he was giving the address to the taxi driver he noticed a small man of slight build appear out of the fog. This man stopped quite near to him and lit a cigarette. Aside from noting the man's build and the fact that he wore a cap and had very dark hair, Forrester could make out no other details, for the man stood with his back to Forrester and the lighted match really served only to throw him out in silhouette. Forrester entered the cab and it started off. As he leaned back he reflected that the man he had seen was of too small a stature to be a detective. His act of stopping so close to them might have been mere accident, but to Forrester the thing had a significance which could not be overlooked. He was confident that this was one of the men they wanted. He hoped that the police, although not visible in the fog, had arrived as promised. If so, he felt that their problems were pretty close to a final solution.
They reached Bellevue Place without incident. The whir of the taxicab's engine had effectually drowned any sound of pursuit and though he had glanced back several times, Forrester had been able to see nothing save a wall of fog back of the cab. Yet somewhere in that fog-draped street he was sure the murderers' car was lurking.
There appeared to be no one around as they left the cab, but Forrester, after his mother and sister had gone into the house, lingered for a moment in the dark doorway. He could hear the hum of the taxicab's engine as it passed down the street toward the Lake Shore Drive. Otherwise the night was silent.