“Yes.  He’s for Laird.”

“Stick to Edmonds, Banneker.  You can’t find a better guide.”

There was desultory talk until the caller got up to go.  As they shook hands, Enderby said: 

“Has any one been tracking you lately?”

“No.  Not that I’ve noticed.”

“There was a fellow lurking suspiciously outside; heavy-set, dark clothes, soft hat.  I thought that he might be watching you.”

For a man of Banneker’s experience of the open, to detect the cleverest of trailing was easy.  Although this watcher was sly and careful in his pursuit, which took him all the way to Chelsea Village, his every move was clear to the quarry, until the door of The House With Three Eyes closed upon its owner.  Banneker went to bed very uneasy.  On whose behoof was he being shadowed?  Should he warn Io?...  In the morning there was no trace of the man, nor, though Banneker trained every sharpened faculty to watchfulness, did he see him again....  While he was mentally engrossed in wholly alien considerations, the solution materialized out of nothing to his inner vision.  It was Willis Enderby who was being watched, and, as a side issue, any caller upon him.  That evening a taxi, occupied by a leisurely young man in evening clothes, drove through East 68th Street, where stood the Enderby house, dim, proud, and stiff.  The taxi stopped before a mansion not far away, and the young man addressed a heavy-bodied individual who stood, with vacant face uplifted to the high moon, as if about to bay it.  Said the young man: 

“Mr. Ives wishes you to report to him at once.”

“Huh?” ejaculated the other, lowering his gaze.

“At the usual place,” pursued the young man.

“Oh!  Aw-right.”

His suspicions fully confirmed, Banneker drove away.  It was now Ives’s move, he remarked to himself, smiling.  Or perhaps Marrineal’s.  He would wait.  Within a few days he had his opportunity.  Returning to his office after luncheon, he found a penciled note from Ives on his desk, notifying him that Miss Raleigh had called him on the ’phone.

Inquiring for the useful Ives, Banneker learned that he was closeted with Marrineal.  Such conferences were regarded in the office as inviolable; but Banneker was in uncompromising mood.  He entered with no more of preliminary than a knock.  After giving his employer good-day he addressed Ives.

“I found a note from you on my desk.”

“Yes.  The message came half an hour ago.”

“Through the office?”

“No.  On your ’phone.”

“How did you get into my room?”

“The door was open.”

Banneker reflected.  This was possible, though usually he left his door locked.  He decided to accept the explanation.  Later he had occasion to revise it.

“Much obliged.  By the way, on whose authority did you put a shadow on Judge Enderby?”

“On mine,” interposed Marrineal.  “Mr. Ives has full discretion in these matters.”