"Quite true," said the old man, "as far as we know at present, but you see we know very little. We can speak with more authority when we’ve made a second examination of the Whitehall offices and a first one of the Harland suite. That’s up to you, O’Mally, as soon as you can manage it. There’s another important matter but I can’t see my way clear to getting it just yet—Ford’s own explanation of his movements that evening. I’m curious to hear what he has to say. But that’ll have to wait till——" He paused and Mr. George cut in: "We land him in jail which I hope will be soon." "Presently, presently," said his father, turning to the fire. "And now, gentlemen, I think we’ll end this little séance. Just look out, George, and see if the limousine’s there for Molly." It was, and they all drifted out, talking as they went, making the date and arranging the plan for the examination of the two offices. I’d said good-bye to the old man and was following them into the hall, when he caught me by the arm and drawing me back from the door said very low: "You’ll be on duty at the Black Eagle Building for a few days more. Try and get Troop again and ask him what time Miss Whitehall left that night. Don’t say a word of what he tells you to anyone, but as soon as you get it let me know." CHAPTER VIII MOLLY TELLS THE STORY For the next few days my moling was stopped—Troop was down with grippe and a substitute in his place. There was nothing to do but sit in my little hole by the elevators, passing the time with a novel and the tray cloth I was embroidering. At night, when Himself and I’d meet up, I’d hear from him how O’Mally was getting on in _his_ tunnel. Babbitts kept in close touch with him, for he had the promise of being along when they made the inspection of the offices. It took some days to arrange for that and while O’Mally was laying his wires for a midnight search, his men were tracking back over Tony Ford’s trail. It didn’t take them long and there was nothing much brought to light when you considered the kind of a man Tony Ford must be. For the last three years he’d held clerkships in New York and Albany and once, for six months in Detroit. From some he’d resigned, from others been fired, not for anything bad, but because he was slack and lazy, though bright enough. The only thing they turned up that was shady was over two years before in Syracuse, when he’d been in a small real estate business with a partner and was said to have absconded with some of the funds. Nobody knew much of this and the man he’d been in with couldn’t be found. The detectives said it was so vague they didn’t put much reliance in it, thought maybe it might be spite work.