Into Mannie’s office, pushing aside the agitated office-boy, came a large man with flat feet.
“Hello, Pete,” said Rigg affectionately.
“Hello, Pete,” said Mannie anxiously.
“Who the devil are you?” said Oscar Dowler.
“Oh—Oscar!” said Hettie.
“All ready, Pete?” said T. J. Rigg. “By the way, folks, this is Mr. Peter Reese of the Reese Detective Agency. You see, Hettie, I figured that if you pulled this, your past record must be interesting. Is it, Pete?”
“Oh, not especially; about average,” said Mr. Peter Reese. “Now, Hettie, why did you leave Seattle at midnight on January 12, 1920?”
“None of your business!” shrieked Hettie.
“Ain’t, eh? Well, it’s some of the business of Arthur L. F. Morrissey there. He’d like to hear from you,” said Mr. Reese, “and know your present address—and present name! Now, Hettie, what about the time you did time in New York for shop-lifting?”
“You go—”