Ivanovitch had been looking at the so-called Tom, but he turned away and Pride gave him a swift, comprehensive look. He turned to me.
“Excuse me, sir, but you spoke of seeing Mr. Jenkins to-day, sir. Something about an option?”
“By Jove, yes,” I answered, wondering what on earth Pride had in mind. “I’ll have to take that up before I leave.” I turned to Ivanovitch. “It’s a little matter of business that I can attend to in half an hour. Will that delay you too much?”
I could see that the Russian did not like it, but he could not say so. “If you must, you must,” he answered. “But we should be starting now. You will be as quick as possible?”
“I certainly will,” I answered gayly. “I would not miss this for all the real estate in the world.”
I jumped into the car. “Make for Times Square, Tom,” I directed Pride. “Back in half an hour or less, Ivanovitch.”
Ivanovitch nodded a little glumly as Pride slipped in the clutch. “Very well,” he called after us.
Pride tore around a couple of corners and pulled up in front of a drug store. Then he jumped down and opened the door of the car like a man in a hurry. “Man, man, I’ve got some quick telephoning to do. Damn it, we may not be able to get what we need from the police in so short a time. I’m going in to telephone now. In the meantime, have you got that ring and that file?”
I struck my forehead with my open palm. “I certainly belong to the Sherlock Holmes class,” I told him. “They are in my other clothes in the bag.”
Pride laughed. “Well, hurry up and get them out while I’m telephoning. I don’t want to wait here too long, after what you said about Times Square. He might stroll around here.”