As they walked across to Fourteenth Street, Kirby told as much of the story as he could without betraying Esther McLean’s part in it.  He trusted Sanborn implicitly, but the girl’s secret was not his to tell.

From James Cunningham Kirby had got the key of his uncle’s apartment.  His cousin had given it to him a little reluctantly.

“The police don’t want things moved about,” he had explained.  “They would probably call me down if they knew I’d let you in.”

“All I want to do is to look the ground over a bit.  What the police don’t know won’t worry ’em any,” the cattleman had suggested.

“All right.”  James had shrugged his shoulders and turned over the key.  “If you think you can find out anything I don’t see any objection to your going in.”

Sanborn applied his shrewd common sense to the problem as he listened to Kirby.

“Looks to me like you’re overlookin’ a bet, son,” he said.  “What about this Jap fellow?  Why did he light out so pronto if he ain’t in this thing?”

“He might ‘a’ gone because he’s a foreigner an’ guessed they’d throw it on him.  They would, too, if they could.”

“Shucks!  He had a better reason than that for cuttin’ his stick.  Sure had.  He’s in this somehow.”

“Well, the police are after him.  They’ll likely run him down one o’ these days.  Far as I’m concerned I’ve got to let his trail go for the present.  There are possibilities right here on the ground that haven’t been run down yet.  For instance, Rose met a man an’ a woman comin’ down the stairs while she was goin’ up.  Who were they?”

“Might ‘a’ been any o’ the tenants here.”

“Yes, but she smelt a violet perfume that both she an’ I noticed in the apartment.  My hunch is that the man an’ the woman were comin’ from my uncle’s rooms.”

“Would she recognize them?  Rose, I mean?” asked Sanborn.

“No:  it was on the dark stairs.”

“Hmp!  Queer they didn’t come forward an’ tell they had met a woman goin’ up.  That is, if they hadn’t anything to do with the crime.”

“Yes.  Of course there might be other reasons why they must keep quiet.  Some love affair, for instance.”

“Sure.  That might be, an’ that would explain why they went down the dark stairs an’ didn’t take the elevator.”

“Just the same I’d like to find out who that man an’ woman are,” Kirby said.  He lifted his hand in a small gesture.  “This is the Paradox Apartments.”

A fat man rolled out of the building just as they reached the steps.  He pulled up and stared down at Kirby.

“What—­what—?” His question hung poised.

“What am I doin’ out o’ jail, Mr. Hull?  I’m lookin’ for the man that killed my uncle,” Kirby answered quietly, looking straight at him.

“But—­”

“Why did you lie about the time when you saw me that night?”

Hull got excited at once.  His eyes began to dodge.  “I ain’t got a word to say to you—­not a word—­not a word!” He came puffing down the steps and went waddling on his way.