whole game,
and they're just sitting back and waiting for the right moment to nab
us. They not only learn every move we make--they anticipate them! It's
every man for himself, now, and I warn you that if I'm cornered in
this--'

"'Hold your tongue!' Rockamore ordered. 'Can't you see--'

"Then the door closed, and I couldn't hear any more. The voices calmed
down to a rumble, and in about twenty minutes I could hear them
approaching the door. I decided I couldn't wait any longer, and got
outside just in time to give Paddington a chance to pass me. He seemed
in good humor, and I guess he got what he was after--money, probably,
for he went to his bank and put through a check. Then he returned to
his rooms, and didn't show up again until late afternoon, when he went
away up Belleair Avenue, to the rectory of the Church of St. James. He
didn't go in--just talked with the sexton in the vestibule, and when
he came down the steps he looked dazed, as if he'd received a hard
jolt of some sort. He couldn't have been trying to blackmail the
minister, too, could he?"

"Hardly, Ross. Go on," Blaine responded. "What did he do next?"

"Nothing. Just went back to his rooms and stayed there. It seemed as
if he was afraid to leave--not so much afraid to be found, but as if
he might miss something, if he left. He even had his dinner sent in
from a restaurant near there. Knowing him, I might have known what it
was he was waiting for--he's always chasing after some girl or
other."

"There was a woman in it, then?" asked the detective, quietly.

"You can bet there was--very much in it, sir!" the operative chuckled.
"She came along while I watched--a tall, slim girl, plainly dressed in
dark clothes, but with an air to her that would make you look at her
twice, anywhere. She hesitated and looked uncertainly about her, as if
she were unfamiliar with the place and a little scary of her errand,
but at last she made up her mind, and plunged in the vestibule, as if
she was afraid she would lose her courage if she stopped to think.

"For a few minutes her shadow showed on the window-shades, beside
Paddington's. They stood close together, and from their gestures, he
seemed to be arguing or pleading, while she was drawing back and
refusing, or at least, holding out against him. At last they fell into
a regular third-act clinch--it was as good as a movie! After a moment
she drew herself out of his arms and they moved away from the window.
In a m