d Piggott says it was a mighty wise thing to put it
there, though I'm blessed if I know why. Hurry Godfrey along as much
as you can. Good-night," and he followed his companions into the
station.

There was a drugstore at the corner with a public telephone station,
and two minutes later, I was asking to be connected with the city-room
at the _Record_ office.

No, said a supercilious voice, Mr. Godfrey was not there; he had left
some time before; no, the speaker did not know where he was going,
nor when he would be back.

"Look here," I said, "this is important. I want to talk to the city
editor--and be quick about it."

There was an instant's astonished silence.

"What name?" asked the voice.

"Lester, of Royce and Lester--and you might tell your city editor
that Godfrey is a close friend of mine."

The city editor seemed to understand, for I was switched on to him a
moment later. But he was scarcely more satisfactory.

"We sent Godfrey up into Westchester to see a man," he said, "on a
tip that looked pretty good. He started just as soon as he got his
Pigot story written, and he ought to be back almost any time. Is
there a message I can give him?"

"Yes--tell him Pigot is at the Twenty-third Street station, and that
he'd better come up as soon as he can."

"Very good. I'll give him the message the moment he comes in."

"Thank you," I said, but the disappointment was a bitter one.

In the street again, I paused hesitatingly at the curb, my eyes on
the red light of the police station. What was about to happen there?
What was the sensation M. Pigot had up his sleeve? Had I any excuse
for being present?

And then, remembering Grady's nod and his wobbly legs--remembering,
too, that, at the worst, he could only put me out!--I turned toward
the light, pushed open the door and entered.

There was no one in sight except the sergeant at the desk.

"My name is Lester," I said. "You have a cabinet here belonging to
the estate of the late Philip Vantine."

"We've got a cabinet, all right; but I don't know who it belongs to."

"It belongs to Mr. Vantine's estate."

"Well, what about it?" he asked, looking at me to see if I was drunk.
"You haven't come in here at midnight to tell me that, I hope?"

"No; but I'd like to see the cabinet a minute."

"You can't see it to-night. Come around to-morrow. Besides, I don't
know you."

"Here's my card. Either Mr. Simmonds or Mr. Grady would know me. And
to-morrow won't