The Case and the Girl by Randall Parrish
page 90 of 257 (35%)
page 90 of 257 (35%)
![]() | ![]() |
|
The chauffeur drove slowly up and down obscure streets for half an hour
before West recognized familiar surroundings, and motioned for him to draw up against the curb. He had discovered the place sought, but from the street it exhibited no signs of occupancy, nor did any knocking at the front door bring response from within. He circled the building, finding an uncurtained window at the rear, which merely revealed an unfurnished room. Every door was locked, but, as he passed along the other side to regain the taxi, a man emerged from the next house, and hailed him. "Say, what're yer snoopin' round there for? Lookin' for somebody?" "Yes, the parties who were here Sunday. What's become of them." "Hobart, you mean?" "Is that his name? I met him down town, and he told me to come here," West explained rapidly. "We had a deal on." "Oh, yer did, hey," leaning his arms on the fence. "Well, Jim Hobart was the name he giv' me. That's my house, which is why I happen to know what his name was. Something queer about that fellar, I reckon, but 'tain't none o' my business. You ain't a detective, or nothin' like that, are yer?" "Nothing at all like that," West laughed, although interested. "Why? Did you think the police might be after him?" "Not for anything I know about, only he skipped out mighty sudden. Paid me a month rent, and only stayed there three days. That looks sorter |
|