"What is the trouble?" he inquired, when they were seated.
"I came to see you in connection with the trouble in the Hillcrest last night."
"A most unfortunate affair!" exclaimed Cole. "It is the first time anything of the kind ever occurred in any of the buildings under our management. It is most unfortunate," he repeated.
"I have been assigned to the case," Morgan informed him, "and I am gathering all the information possible. Then I can formulate some theory upon which to work. Just at this time I want a little information regarding your tenants in the building."
"Very fine people—very fine people, indeed," protested Cole. "There couldn't be a breath of suspicion against any of them."
"I'll be the judge of that," said Morgan, sharply.
"But really," cried Cole, "you must not annoy our tenants. Surely it was only a quarrel among burglars. One man probably wounded his pal and then, alarmed at the disturbance he had created, hurried him away."
Morgan smiled. This was a very ingenious and plausible solution of the mystery—at least in the real estate agent's eyes. However, Morgan now sought facts, not amateur theories, and disregarding the real estate man's talk, he pushed his quest for information.
"I have a report in my pocket which covers all that I want to know about most of your tenants; at least for the present. There are two families, however, about whom I want further information. The first is the Atwood family, in the third floor south."
"Atwood—Atwood," repeated Cole, as if he did not place the name. Then he called, "Joe, bring me the rent book."