The guards were shouting “All aboard.” Siwash turned and sprang into his car, while the skinny man strode towards the exit. Clement picked up his bag and went in the same direction. Gatineau cried softly, “Say, we can’t monkey about; we’ll miss that train.”
“I’m going to,” said Clement grimly. “I want to find out why that fellow is here.”
“But——”
“And I don’t like him being here,” said Clement. “I’m not going to leave anybody here to wait for Miss Reys unless I know the exact why and the wherefore of his waiting.”
Gatineau was by his side now; he was smiling. “Yep, I rather want to look at that paper myself. Say, if you catch hold of this grip I’ll trail that lad. Best be me—he may have recollections of your outline.”
An hour later Gatineau rejoined Clement in the lounge of the hotel. “That’s the sort of job that makes a feller ashamed to draw his pay,” he grinned, as he sat down. “Easy—made me cry, it was so easy!”
“You’ve got that paper?”
“No, sir; I’m not little Xavier miracle worker yet. But I’ve got him located. He’s in a rooming house in the dark areas off Portage Avenue—room 163 is his number. And he hasn’t the slightest fear that evil men like us are here and interested in him. Walked all the way to his dive without so much as a look round.”
“That’s good; that means that Siwash don’t know we’re here either. He’s gone off to Banff and Neuburg without a suspicion. Well, what next?”
“We just go an’ call on our lean friend—he calls himself Jean Renadier, he’s a French-Canadian all right, though he says he comes from Montreal, not Quebec. I’ve got a man there spotting for me already, one of our local men, an’ I’ve arranged with the police to pull him on the Empress of Prague robbery charge—in silence. Shall we go?”