“That means that you stay in from six o’clock on, Larry,” I observed, “no matter how many ladies in distress come to the door.”
Larry squirmed and Moore looked at me inquiringly. “What’s all that?” he demanded.
So, with a keen enjoyment of Larry’s speaking countenance, I told Moore the story of Mrs. Fawcette’s unconventional visit, winding up with the news of the luncheon that day given for Natalie.
Moore was silent for a while after I had finished my yarn, and the gravity of his expression made me vaguely uneasy. “What do you think of it?” I demanded at last.
“Clayton, I think it’s bad,” he answered, finally. “In the first place, I hate the thought of that girl trailing with that bunch, especially after what you have told me about her”—he gave me a fleeting grin—“but the Mrs. Fawcette proposition is worse—I mean, searching your place. It looks as if they know all about us.”
“Well, if Mrs. Fawcette is in the gang, along with Ivanovitch and Vining and these others we’ve run across, why, it would be easy enough for them to trace me through my car license number, supposing that bloodthirsty driver of theirs got the number and was well enough, after the smash, to tell his rescuers about it.” I broke off and stared at Moore in amazement. “Then they could trace me and send Mrs. Fawcette to search my rooms. But, great Scott, that’s too much of a coincidence, Moore. We’ve got nothing to connect Mrs. Fawcette and Ivanovitch with Vining; not a thing. They don’t even belong to the same stratum of society.”
Moore shrugged his shoulders. “Well, as far as that goes, it doesn’t really affect the main issue much. To-night’s the night, and we’ve got to locate that gang. It’s too late to turn back now anyway, even if we wanted to—which I don’t. How about it?”
“I’m with you, of course,” I answered. “But I hate letting you get into the hands of that bunch all alone.”
Moore laughed. “It’s got to be done, Clayton. I’ll be all right. I’ll be talking to you bright and early to-morrow, most likely with a splitting headache. In the meantime, I think you’d better trail me until we get to our destination, wherever that is, hang around a bit, to be sure that we haven’t stopped for a moment only and gone on again, and when you’re satisfied that you’ve found the place, beat it back here again and lie low until I get back. Then we’ll get in touch with Captain Peters and round ’em up with his help. How does that strike you?”
“All right,” I answered. “But I still don’t like your going alone.”