"What for?"
Rollie was clinging to the telephone now like a drowning man to a rope's end.
"He got in some kind of a row with a service elevator man at the St. Albans last night and landed on him with the brass knucks. This morning the judge gave him three months in the county."
Rollie clenched his teeth, and his shoulders rocked for a moment. So that was what happened to the Red Lizard! What a long time ago last night was! How many things had happened! Last night he was a crook and a defaulter. To-day he was an honest man, and his accounts would bear the scrutiny of an X-ray. Now if only those diamonds—
But Sam had gone right on talking.
"We think Doctor Hampstead went to San Francisco on some sort of errand for the Lizard—Red's got a woman sick over there or something. But, say, the parson telephoned his house before he left here, and they can tell you sure."
"All right, thanks."
"So long, Rollie!"
Gone to San Francisco! Worse and worse. Rollie huddled in his chair. But there was still a grain of hope. Sam might be mistaken, or the trip might be a short one, or the minister might have left a telephone number that would reach him.
But the voice of Rose Langham dashed these hopes one by one. Her brother had gone to San Francisco on an uncertain quest; he would not be back until very late at night, and he had no idea himself where in the city his search would lead him.