Chapter Thirteen.
I Learn Something Interesting.
Ten minutes later I was with the German hairdresser on a tram-car, going up Regent Road, towards Abbey Hill. On turning into the London Road at the station, we descended, and, crossing the main thoroughfare, entered one of the narrow, ill-lit turnings on the left, the name of which I was unable to see.
“I don’t know whom to ask for,” I remarked to my companion, as we hurried along together.
“I can only point you out the house where your friend is in hiding,” replied the man. “You, of course, know more of his habits than I do.”
In a few moments we passed before a tall, drab, dingy-looking house, which the German pointed out was the false Professor’s secret abode.
I longed for the presence of Kershaw Kirk, for I knew not how to act. I reflected, however, that the reason of my journey to Edinburgh was to clear up the mystery, and this thought prompted me to action.
So while he waited in the semi-darkness at the next corner, I returned to the house and rang the bell. To the door came a rather dishevelled girl of about eighteen, evidently the daughter of the occupier.
“You have a gentleman living here,” I said. “Would you kindly tell him that Mr Kirk desires to see him?”