Pen, glancing around guardedly, had no great difficulty in picking him out--a nonchalant youth leaning against a bargain counter. He was very well dressed in sporting style, topped with an exaggerated flat tweed cap. His cheeks were as smooth and pink as a girl's, but the glance of his blue eyes was disillusioned. "He may look like a boy soprano," said the girl dryly, "but I assure you he sings double-bass. It's Babe Riordan, side partner of Spike's, that I brought along. Understand wherever I go the Babe goes too." "All right," said Pen. "Well, what do you propose?" "I'd rather leave it to you," said Pen. Another lightning-like dart of the black eyes. "Oh! ... Well, a room in a hotel's the safest place. The leading hotel here is the Bellevue...." "Oh, not there," said Pen. "Why not?" "He ... the man I want to tell you about is there." The girl took three steps to a counter where there was a salesgirl disengaged. "What's the biggest hotel here next to the Bellevue?" she asked. "The Southland." "Thanks." She returned to Pen. "Make it the Southland in half an hour." "But the detective," said Pen. "Pooh! He's just out of the egg," said the other with a scornful glance. "He's still got his pin feathers stickin' on him. Listen. Babe and I will take a room at the hotel and you come call on us, see? That bird couldn't follow you up, could he?" "No, but he might hear me ask for you at the desk." "Don't ask. Listen. Babe will be watching for you in the lobby. He'll be sitting there reading a paper. You stroll by him and if everything's all right he'll flash a card under the paper with the room number on it, see? You get the number in your head and come right up in the elevator." Pen could not but admire the little creature's strategy. But the black eyes narrowed suspiciously again. "Mind, if there's any funny work about this, if there's anybody near you when you come by Babe you don't get the room number, see?" Pen nodded. The little one lifted her voice blithely: "Well ta-ta old girl. Call me up some time and we'll make a date to lunch together. Remember me to the folks." She pattered coolly away in the direction of the burly loiterer, and brushed by him with a negligent hand at her black hair. Pen turned in the other direction. The detective came after her. As she was about to leave the store she saw her opportunity. An elevator door was just about to close. She slipped inside and was carried aloft. Her follower had to wait for the next car. She crossed the building on an upper floor, came down in a car on the other side, and got out of the store without seeing the man again. Half an hour later she was knocking at the door of room 1214 in the Southland Hotel. The door was opened by one who remained invisible. Pen walked in with her heart in her mouth. Blanche was behind the door. She was smoking a cigarette. At the sight of Pen's face she laughed.