Arrived in front of the house he saw that the big doors had been smashed in. The policeman stood swinging his club, bored and nonchalant, in sharp contrast to the gaping by-standers. Thirsty as he was for news, Greg dared not call attention to himself by applying to Authority. Instead, he loitered among the on-lookers, keeping his ears open. He heard a stout woman with a shopping-bag say to her friend: "My dear, I always said there was something funny about that house. No Christian people would live in such an outlandish contraption. Why, those front windows down-stairs are the kitchen windows. I looked through it once when it was for rent. Think of having your kitchen windows right on the sidewalk! Any one who walked by could see you in your boodgewar cap! They say a crazy foreigner built it years ago, and I don't doubt it. "Well, last night I heard a crash of breaking glass--there it lies still on the sidewalk, see? It's from the parlor window above. And a man's voice roared out twice: 'Beat her! Beat her!' just like that. My, but I was scared. I just pulled the blankets over my head. No use lookin' to my Albert for comfort in the night. He sleeps like the dead!" Greg got more exact information from an Irishman in a gingham jumper, the engineer of an apartment house perhaps, who was describing the affair to another man. "I know the cop on the beat. He told me the rights of the case. Seems about four this morning a taxi druv up to the station house, and a young fellow, a mere lad they say, run in and told the Sergeant that a guy was being murdered at Five thirty West Ninth. So the Sarge called half a dozen of the reserves and they rode back with the kid in his flivver. They beat in the door but the gang got out through a secret way at the back into Clinton Place and scattered. They made a clean getaway. There wasn't a thing in the house to show what they'd been up to. Nothin' but some kitchen chairs and tables. Now they're trying to trace who hired the house from the old lady what owns it, but she don't know. She got her rent in advance and that's all she asked." "What about the boy who gave the alarm?" "There's a mystery about him too. In the excitement he disappeared with his cab, and nobody had thought to take down his number. A real good-lookin' boy, they said; not over sixteen year old." Greg hung around a bit, but no further information was forthcoming, and he finally went on. His heart was heavy with anxiety for his plucky little companion of the night before. So she had been the means of saving him. But what had become of her when daylight overtook her? what had she done with the cab? The only thing he had to go on was the fact that he had given her the address of the yard where he had meant to keep the cab. Perhaps she had taken it there. He started to find out.