She laughed provocatively. “Why, then we shall see what we shall see,” she answered.
She left me then, and presently I took leave of my hostess and came away. I had learned little or nothing either from Mrs. Fawcette or from any one. But I was anything but ill-pleased with my afternoon. For at least I had paved the way for a closer acquaintance with that rather dangerous-looking lady. And I had learned something of interest from the Girl in Gray. My pulses quickened again reminiscently at the thought and I shook myself impatiently. Such things and such thoughts were not for me until I had solved my problem and found Margaret.
Larry met me at my door in high excitement. “Sure ’tis glad I am you’re back agin, sor. That there private ’phone’s been ringing like mad fer the last hour. Ivery minute, Misther Moore wants to know are ye back yit. He must have something important to tell ye, sor. There! There it goes again.”
I gave my hat, stick and gloves to Larry and hurried into my bedroom. Yes, the tiny ’phone bell was ringing faintly.
“Hello, Moore? This is Clayton. You want me?”
“At last,” came Moore’s voice over the wire. “You bet I want you. Clayton, I believe we’re on the right track at last!”
“How’s that?”
“You remember my telling you about the young drunk I met up on Riverside Drive last night?”
“Of course!”