“I don’t know. I think so.” “Was he one of the men who turned up when you rescued her?” “No, he wasn’t!” “Do you think the men who came that night recognized you?” “I don’t see how they could. They might have described me to Mrs. Fawcette or Ivanovitch himself, however.” “Well,” Pride answered, “it’s only a chance, of course. But if Ivanovitch is hand in glove with Mrs. Fawcette and Vining, he’ll know about their having you arrested. So, if you go to see him, he’ll probably try again to have you arrested. If he doesn’t do that, it’s a fair presumption that he does not suspect you. Then you can try to get him to take you on one of the parties. I’ll have you followed, adequately this time, and follow you myself. It will be pretty poor work if they give us the slip again.” “Well,” I said, “I’ll try it. I’ll try anything. You can be sure of that. But can’t you have these birds followed anyway? Has Vining been followed, shadowed all the time? And Ivanovitch? And Mrs. Fawcette?” Pride smiled. “Followed! I should say they have. But we’ve had to use police plain-clothes men. They lost track of both Vining and Mrs. Fawcette the day Moore was captured. Since then I’ve called off the man I had watching Ivanovitch because I did not want him to know that he was under suspicion and they’re too clever for these plain-clothes men.” “Well, isn’t there any one else suspected? Isn’t there any one else we could follow?” And suddenly I remembered the little book I had found in Vining’s desk. I had left it under the blotter on my table. “Look here, I have something, I think!” and I told him about that little book and the names in it. When I had finished, Pride gave me a droll look. “Is there any other little detail you have omitted to mention?” he asked dryly. “That book may be absolutely invaluable to us. What was in it exactly?” I told him of the names and the numbers after them. “What could they mean?” I asked. “Might mean anything. Members and dues, perhaps, in some club. But the names themselves would tell us something. Where is the book?” I told him and received another droll look. “Well, if there was anything important in it, you don’t suppose it’s there now, do you?” he asked. “But I’ll get in there and see. I’ve got to get into your apartment anyway.” “What for? Oh, for my clothes, of course.” “Exactly. You can’t call on Ivanovitch in those duds.” I got up again. “When do I go to see him?” I demanded. “Why not drop in to-morrow afternoon? That will give me time to get your clothes and to plant a man in the house perhaps. At any rate it will give me time to arrange about having you closely followed. Wait—I’ll drive you there myself. The car has been loaned you by a friend who is out of town and I’m your friend’s chauffeur. That is, if he asks. What do you think of that plan?” “Oh, it sounds all right,” I answered. “It’s action, anyway. But I wish I could get my hands on those brutes.”