"It's a damn shame," he went on. "I'd give a good deal to know who it is that's worried about Anne Blake just now. The man or woman, whichever it was, that just called was pretty well fussed up and afraid of making a break. And now it's all off!... Well--it leaves us about where we were before we were so rudely interrupted. There's nothing to do but to start tracing Miss Blake and her sister from here--and the sooner we begin, the quicker we'll find them." "But where can we start? We know nothing of their movements," said Donald, in a tone of deep discouragement. "Pardon me," said Clancy. "We do know something, though I admit it's not much. We may infer, I think, that there was someone in this apartment, probably as late as five o'clock yesterday.... That was Sunday ... and if there was any luggage, which almost undoubtedly there was, it means a cab, since it would have been impossible to get an expressman.... Miss Blake didn't have a car of her own by any chance?" he asked, on sudden thought. "No," replied Morris, eagerly, his anxiety slightly mitigated by the prospect of immediate action. "But I happen to know that she habitually used a taxi from a garage over near Sixth Avenue. She spoke once about how reliable they were. Let me see.... The name was ... Horton--no--Holden?... No, I can't be sure. But I know the place. We passed it coming from the theatre and she pointed it out to me." He rose, excitedly. "Come on. I'll show you where it is," and he caught Peter's arm in a nervous grip. "That's good news," cried Peter, enthusiastically. "Now we'll begin. But there's something I must do before we go. I may want to come in here without disturbing our friend, Angelo. It won't take a minute." He drew a small piece of wax from his pocket and began working it up in his fingers, while Morris watched him, his impatience somewhat tempered by curiosity. "Carry a lot of odd things about with me," Clancy explained. "Need almost as many as a first-class burglar. You see," he went on, as with practised fingers he took an impression, in the wax, of the key Angelo had left with him. "You never can tell when a thing'll come in handy. I may need it and then, of course, I may not. But it's just as well to be prepared." He put the model carefully away in a small case and returned the case to his pocket. "Now I'm ready," he added, briskly, catching up his hat from a table just inside the door of the living room. And without further words the two men hastily closed the door, made sure that it was fast, and descended the stairs at a run. Peter called to Angelo from the top of the basement stairs, delivered the key, and joining Morris, who waited impatiently at the door, they passed out into the busy streets.