I told him of the names and the numbers after them. “What could they mean?” I asked.
“Might mean anything. Members and dues, perhaps, in some club. But the names themselves would tell us something. Where is the book?”
I told him and received another droll look. “Well, if there was anything important in it, you don’t suppose it’s there now, do you?” he asked. “But I’ll get in there and see. I’ve got to get into your apartment anyway.”
“What for? Oh, for my clothes, of course.”
“Exactly. You can’t call on Ivanovitch in those duds.”
I got up again. “When do I go to see him?” I demanded.
“Why not drop in to-morrow afternoon? That will give me time to get your clothes and to plant a man in the house perhaps. At any rate it will give me time to arrange about having you closely followed. Wait—I’ll drive you there myself. The car has been loaned you by a friend who is out of town and I’m your friend’s chauffeur. That is, if he asks. What do you think of that plan?”
“Oh, it sounds all right,” I answered. “It’s action, anyway. But I wish I could get my hands on those brutes.”
Pride smiled and was silent for a moment. Then he glanced up suddenly. “Look here, Clayton,” he said, “I’m going to play fair with you. I think we’ve been underestimating this gang all along. I think any such attempt as this would be underestimating them. But I’m banking on one thing. I’m banking on my own powers to trace you. For I think it’s quite possible that he’ll take you with him on a party if you ask him to. But not because he does not suspect you. I think he and the rest of the gang know all about you. But I also think that they underestimate us. And I think that they are afraid of you as long as you are at liberty.”
I stared at him in amazement. “But then what’s the use of my going there?”