“Not another trace?”

“Wait a minute.  We had this Rockledge call to work on.  So we started backward on that.  It was Whitney’s place, I found out.  We could locate the car at the start and at the finish.  He left the Prince Edward Albert and went up there first.  Then he must have come back to the city again.  No one at the hotel saw him the second time.

“What then?” hastened Craig.

“She may have met him somewhere, though it’s not likely she had any intention of going away.  All the rest of those people you have up there seem to have gone prepared.  We got something on each of them.  Also you’ll be interested to know I’ve got a report of your own doings.  It was right, Kennedy, I don’t blame you.  I’d have done the same with Burke on the job.  How are you making out?  What?  You’re cracking a crib?  With what?”

O’Connor whistled as Kennedy related the story of the blow-pipe.  “I think you’re on the right track,” he commended.  “There’s nothing to show it, but I believe Whitney told her something that changed her mind about going up there.  Probably met her in some tea room, although we can’t find anything from the tea rooms.  Anyhow, Burke’s out trailing along the road from New York to Rockledge and I’m getting reports from him whenever he hits a telephone.”

“I wish you’d ask him to call me, here, if he gets anything.”

“Sure I will.  The last call was from the Chateau Rouge,—­that’s about halfway.  There was a car with a man and a woman who answers her description.  Then, there was another car, too.”

“Another car?”

“Yes—­that’s where Norton crosses the trail again.  We searched his apartment.  It was upset—­like Whitney’s.  I haven’t finished with that.  But we have a list of all the private hacking places.  I’ve located one that hired a car to a man answering Norton’s description.  I think he’s on the trail.  That’s what I meant by another car.”

“What’s he doing?”

“Maybe he has a hunch.  I’m getting superstitious about this case.  You know Luis de Mendoza has thirteen letters in it.  Leslie told me something about a threat he had—­a curse.  You better look out for those two greasers you have up there.  They may have another knife for you.”

Kennedy glanced over at the de Moches, not in fear but in amusement at what they would think if they could hear O’Connor’s uncultured opinion.

“All right, O’Connor,” said Craig, “everything seems to be going as well as we can expect.  Don’t forget to tell Burke I’m here.”

“I won’t.  Just a minute.  He’s on another wire for me.”

Kennedy waited impatiently.  He wanted to finish his job on the safe before some one came walking in and stopped it, yet there was always a chance that Burke might turn up something.

“Hello,” called O’Connor a few minutes later.  “He’s still following the two cars.  He thinks the one with the woman in it is Whitney’s, all right.  But they’ve got off the main road.  They must think they’re being followed.