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 queer. Then Sunday that fellar what committed suicide out south--I read about in the papers--came to see him in a car. I got a boy workin' in his factory; that's how I come to know who the guy was. The next night Hobart, an' them with him, just naturally skipped out. So I didn't know but what the police might want him for something." "I don't know anything about that. I just called on a private matter. Where did he go to?" "Hell, man, I didn't even know he was goin'." "Who did he have with him here--a family?" "A woman 'bout his age I should say, an' a younger one. I didn't see 'em only from the window; didn't get no sight o' the girl's face at all, but could tell the way she walked she was young. They didn't have nothin' with 'em; that's all my stuff in the house there." Feeling the uselessness of trying to learn anything more, West thanked him, and returned to the taxi. "Back to the Club," he ordered briefly, and settled into his seat to think. CHAPTER XIII 238 WRAY STREET