Drew waited until Loris had pressed herself into a small compass at the back of the divan, with Harry Nichols leaning over her in a shielding position which was thoughtful and at the same time affectionate. He strode toward the writing room and parted the heavy, silk portières. He studied every detail. He dropped the portières and crossed the sitting room to the doorway leading into Loris' chamber. This, too, he searched with his eyes. Backing to the center of the room he dropped his chin in thought. A sound outside the mansion caused him to turn and hurry to a window. He brushed the curtain aside and tried to peer out. He rubbed the frosted glass vigorously. His nose pressed to a white button as he searched the side street. A taxi had come to a grinding halt directly below the window. Its wheels spun upon the slippery surface. A man leaned out of an open doorway and urged the driver on with a brandished fist of ham-like proportions. The driver backed into the snow, dropped into first speed and stepped on his throttle. The taxi leaped forward, gripped the surface, and plowed toward Fifth Avenue in a welter of flying ice and flakes. Drew sprang back and faced Loris and Nichols who had risen and were standing together in the glow from the cluster over their heads. "What happened?" they asked in unison. "What was outside?" "Delaney!" snapped Drew, dragging out his watch and glancing at it. "Delaney's got word where to find his man. He's on the trail at last! It's twelve-two. We ought to have that fellow in a half hour." "The trouble-man?" asked Loris, with rising hopes. "Do you think it is the trouble-man, Mr. Drew?" "Nine chances in ten, it is! I'm venturing a guess it is. If we get him--if Delaney gets him--he'll know it. Delaney used to work under the old-time police chiefs. They showed scant consideration." "But, he won't hurt him!" said Loris, with a tremulous exclamation. "That murderer! Why, Miss Stockbridge, isn't he plotting to slay you? Didn't he kill your father? I wish I were in Delaney's place." "Me too!" declared Nichols, drawing closer to the detective. "Say, Inspector, I want to congratulate you. I do." "Wait, Harry. Just wait! You two sit down and be quiet. This affair is a personal one with me. I don't doubt that Morphy or perhaps some one else in state prison 'phoned to the same party who phoned Miss Loris. That was all we needed. Delaney jumped into a taxi and hurried downtown as fast as the storm permitted. Perhaps the call came from the same booth. I don't think so, though." "The one at Forty-second Street and Broadway?" "I don't think so, Nichols. This fellow seems to pick a new one every time. He's very crafty. That alone shows a criminal mind." Drew paced the floor with soft gliding. He turned at the portières and crossed to the tapestries. He returned and stood before Loris and Nichols.