There was a bell on the table. He tapped it and, after a lazy length of time, a shapeless woman came through a door on the right and regarded him with no great show of cordiality.
"Nothing vacant, mister. Everything I've got is rented."
"I wasn't looking for a room. I'm just doing a little checking."
"My license is okay," the woman said belligerently. "The place is clean and orderly."
"That's not what I'm checking about. There's been some counterfeit money passed in this neighborhood and we're trying to trace it down."
The woman had a pronounced mustache that quivered at this news. "Counterfeit! My roomers are honest."
"I'm sure they are. But some people carry counterfeit money without knowing it. Do they all pay in cash?"
"Only two of them."
"Men or women?"
"One girl—Katy Wynn."