The light in the dingy lodging-house parlor was burning full, but
the hall was dark. I stopped inside and lighted a cigarette.
"Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, Mac!" I said. "I've
got the first two, and the other can be had--for the pursuit."
Mac did not reply: he was staring into the parlor. Elsa Lee was
standing by a table, looking at me.
She was very nervous, and tried to explain her presence in a breath
--with the result that she broke down utterly and had to stop. Mac,
his jovial face rather startled, was making for the stairs; but I
sternly brought him back and presented him. Whereon, being utterly
confounded, he made the tactful remark that he would have to go and
put out the milk-bottles: it was almost morning!
She had been waiting since ten o'clock, she said. A taxicab, with
her maid, was at the door. They were going back to New York in the
morning, and things were terribly wrong.
"Wrong? You need not mind Mr. McWhirter. He is as anxious as I am
to be helpful."
"There are detectives watching Marshall; we saw one to-day at the
hotel. If the jury disagrees--and the lawyers think they will--they
will arrest him."
I thought it probable. There was nothing I could say. McWhirter
made an effort to reassure her.
"It wouldn't be a hanging matter, anyhow," he said.
Pages:
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200