d why did you lose some sleep last
night?"

Anthony's patience snapped.

"See here, Hitchin!" he cried. "I like to be polite and hospitable as
possible, but why on earth I should sit here and answer your ridiculous
questions I cannot see."

Hobart Hitchin laughed, a low, rippling, sinister laugh that chilled the
hearer without giving a clue to the reason for the chill.

"Shall I show you why it were better for you to answer, Fry?" he purred.

"No!"

"Oh, but I'd better," insisted the crime student. "Fry, let us go back a
few hours. You returned home last night about midnight, I think--fifteen
or twenty minutes before the hour?"

"Yes."

"There was with you a young man named David Prentiss?"

"Of course."

"Then here is the reason for my questions!" cried Hobart Hitchin, and
his whole personality seemed aflame. "Anthony Fry, _where is David
Prentiss_?"

CHAPTER X

The Web

Just the manner of the man startled Anthony and caused him to hitch back
in his chair and stare for an instant. Johnson Boller was not so
affected.

"Say, what's the matter with you, Hitchin?" he asked. "Are you a plain
nut?"

Hitchin snapped his fingers at him angrily and continued his stare at
Anthony Fry.

"Well?" he said tensely.

"Well, upon my soul, Hitchin!" Anthony stammered. "I believe Boller's
right!"

"Oh, no, you don't," Hobart Hitchin said quietly. "You know a great deal
better and Boller knows a great deal better, but he has a good deal more
self-control than you have. Fry, where is David Prentiss?"

"Gone home, of course!" Anthony snapped.

"When did he go?"

"What? Last night!"

"And can you give me an idea of the hour?"

"Oh--half-past twelve, perhaps."

"At half-past twelve last night, David Prentiss left this apartment. He
went down in the elevator?"

"I suppose so."

"And--just be patient, Fry." Hitchin smiled disarmingly. "Did the young
man wear from this apartment the clothes he wore into this apartment?"

It was perfectly apparent to Anthony that the wretched fool had taken
what he fancied to be a scent of some sort; it was equally clear that,
in his present state of mind, Anthony would answer perhaps three more
questions and then, losing himself completely, would smash the
flower-vase over Hobart Hitchin's shining bald head solely as salve for
his nerves!

Doubtless the long coat and the down-pulled cap had started him
off--they were sufficiently mysterious-looking to impress a l