“You know where he lives?”
“No. Won’t you sit down?”
“I can’t. I’m following him.”
The girl was bewildered. “Are you a detective?” she inquired.
The question produced an extraordinary effect on the young man. He threw up his head and gave vent to a short, sharp exclamation.
“Ha!” he said. “No,” he went on, “I once thought I was a detective, but I woke up.” Then he started for the door. “Thank you,” he said. As he reached for the knob he reeled and clutched at the wall for support. Miss Masters started toward him.
“Come,” she said, “sit down. Aren’t you feeling ill? Let me get you a glass of water.”
She drew a glass full from a cooler and carried it to the young man.
“It’s warm,” she said, “you’re exhausted.”
Harvey gulped the contents of the glass, and looked at Miss Masters mournfully.