Inspector Mitchell felt extremely pleased with himself as he hurried along Seventeenth Street in the direction of the Munitions Building. In his interview with Mrs. Augustus Murray of Georgetown, an hour before, he had been unable to shake her confidence in her claim that she had met Major Leigh Wallace leaving the Baird mansion on Sunday afternoon about five minutes past five o'clock. Mrs. Murray supplemented her original statement with the information that the Major never had the decency to apologize to her, when he ran against her in his blind haste. Upon leaving Mrs. Murray, Inspector Mitchell went at once to Major Wallace's boarding house where he learned that he had missed the young officer by ten minutes only. "He's gone to the Army Dispensary in the Munitions Building for treatment," Mrs. Harris, the landlady, informed him. "Dear knows, I hope the treatment does him some good. The way he moans in his sleep is something awful." "Ah, is Major Wallace troubled with insomnia?" asked Mitchell. "I don't know what he's troubled with." Mrs. Harris was not blessed with an even temper, and when it was aroused generally vented her ill-humor on the first person encountered. "His room is next to mine and the partition is mighty thin. It makes my flesh crawl to hear him moan and when he cries out, 'Kitty!' and again, 'That damned cat,' I just have to pound on the wall and wake him up." "Perhaps he has an antipathy to cats," remarked Mitchell, restraining a smile. "Mebbe he has; anyway I can't say that I'm sorry he's going--" "Going where?" "Out west somewhere," vaguely. "If you hurry you may catch Major Wallace at the Dispensary; he's usually there about two hours." And taking the broad hint Mitchell bowed himself out of the boarding house. Unable to secure a taxicab at the Dupont Circle stand in place of the police car and Allen, whom he had sent on an errand earlier in the morning, Mitchell boarded a southbound street car and, standing on the forward platform, kept a sharp look-out for Major Wallace. He reached the corner of H Street, however, without catching up with him, and leaving the car continued on down Seventeenth Street. So absorbed was Inspector Mitchell in his own thoughts that he failed to return Mrs. Parsons' bow as her motor passed him on its way up the street. At a word from Mrs. Parsons, her chauffeur swung the touring car around and up to the curb just as Mitchell started to cross D Street. The sound of his name caused him to glance around and he saw Mrs. Parsons beckoning to him. "Can I give you a lift, Inspector?" she asked as he approached. "You appear to be in a hurry." "Thanks." Mitchell wasted no superfluous words but seated himself with alacrity by Mrs. Parsons' side. "Where to, sir?" questioned the chauffeur, touching his cap as he closed the door. "Munitions Building--that is," and Mitchell turned inquiringly toward Mrs. Parsons, "if it won't take you out of your way?"