The Case and The Girl: Chapter XIII. 238 Wray Street

Chapter XIII. 238 Wray Street

The information thus gained had been small enough, yet sufficient to stimulate his belief that he was at least upon the right trail. The sudden departure of this man Hobart, and the fact that no young children were in the family, were important items to consider. Coolidge then had not visited this cottage to aid a widow and orphans. There had been some other object in his call. The girl must have known and understood the real purpose; that was why they both acquiesced so readily to his remaining outside in the car. It was part of their mutual plan to thus leave him in ignorance. Yet they had made a mistake in taking him along at all. This error alone gave him now an opportunity to unravel the riddle. But did it? What did he know? Merely that Coolidge had not gone to this house on an errand of charity; that the occupant called himself, temporarily, perhaps, Jim Hobart; that his family consisted of two women, undescribed except as to age; and that all three had mysteriously disappeared together. He might take it for granted that this disappearance was caused by the death of Coolidge, but, they had left no trail, no inkling as to where they had gone. He might suspect this sudden vanishing had direct connection with the crime he was endeavouring to solve, but he possessed absolutely no proof, and, apparently, any further movement on his part was completely blocked.

More puzzled than ever, although now fully convinced that murder had been committed, West could do nothing but wait the reappearance of Sexton. The latter arrived promptly on time, but, much to West's disappointment, merely nodded his head negatively to the general inquiry as to whether or not he had made any discoveries. The early hour enabled the host to secure a secluded table in the dining room, but there was no effort at conversation until after the meal had been ordered. Then West told his story. The retelling of these incidents of the afternoon, coupled with Sexton's evident interest in the narrative, and the questions the man asked, caused the discoveries made to assume a greater importance than before. His listener seemed to sense the situation clearly.

"It wasn't no mistake, your goin' out there, sir," he said, confidently. "What we know now gives us something to work on anyhow, an' it's just what I thought--that trip Sunday led up to this killin', an' something happened while they was in there to stir Miss Natalie all up. Now we got to find this fellow--what did you say his name was, sir?"

"Hobart--Jim Hobart; that is he was known by that name there."

"And you say he has simply dropped out o' sight?"

"That's true; never left a clue behind him."

"Well, sir, I'm not quite so sure about that. You listen to me, sir. I walked out to Fairlawn from the car-line, an' come in across the fields to the house. I didn't have no good excuse for goin' back there, sir, an' was sorter afraid to meet up with Miss Natalie. She might have thought I was just spyin' 'round. But I didn't have no need for being afraid, for it seems she'd driven into town about noon, an' hadn't got back. There wasn't nobody but the servant around the place, sir. Do you remember Lizzie, the second maid--sorter full face, an' light hair?"

West nodded, wondering what all this might be leading to.

"Well, she an' I always hit it off together, an' I talked with her quite a bit. She's goin' to quit too, because of something what happened, so it was safe enough to question her. She told me, sir, that Miss Natalie had a telephone call this morning that took her into the city. Lizzie she went to the 'phone when it rang, an' it was a man's voice. He wouldn't leave no message, but insisted on speaking to Miss Natalie. Lizzie had to call her down from upstairs."

"Did the girl overhear the conversation?"

"Not so as to make very much out of it, sir. She was sorter interested, the man's voice being strange, and hung around in the hall listening, but about all she could make out was what Miss Natalie said. It seemed like he was givin' her some kind of address, which she didn't exactly understand, an' so she repeated it after him two or three times to be sure."

"What was the address?"

"238 Ray Street, sir."

"You are certain of that?"

"That was what Lizzie said; she was pretty positive, sir; an' then about an hour later, Miss Natalie ordered her car, an' drove into town."

"Alone?"

"Yes, sir; it was the electric she took."

West remained silent, tapping with his knife on the table. This might prove important, and he could not afford to ignore the information. While to his mind it was hardly likely Hobart had called the girl, yet the possibility remained.

"I never heard of a Ray Street," he said at length, "but of course, there may be one. Oh, Charlie," he stopped a waiter passing. "Bring me up a City directory, will you. You will find one in the office down stairs. Tell the Secretary Captain West wishes it and will return it at once."

The first course had been served when the man returned with the book, placing it on a chair next West, who immediately deserted his soup to inspect the volume.

"Ray Street," he said doubtfully, fingering the pages. "There is no such street here, Sexton. Are you sure you got that right?"

"That's what she said, sir; I made her say it over twice."

"Ray Street; wonder if it could be spelled with a W? By Jove, it is--Wray! Here we have it, only five blocks long, extending from Conway to Grogan. Rather tough section I should judge."

"I don't know, sir. I never heard of any of those streets before. How do you get there?"

"By car you mean? Well, let's see on the map. Oh yes, that's plain enough; Milwaukee Avenue to Gans, and then walk east three blocks. It wouldn't do any harm to take a look around there either. Perhaps that is where Hobart went; he might have been the one calling Natalie. Rather a wild guess, but it will give us something to do. What number was it?"

"238, sir."

"Good; we'll try our luck after we finish dinner; there will be a couple of hours of daylight yet. Are you game, Sexton?"

"Quite so, sir."

The sinking sun was still above the sky-line of the buildings fronting on Milwaukee Avenue, when the two men alighted at the intersection of Gans Street. West hardly took the adventure seriously, being more influenced by curiosity than any other motive, but Sexton was deeply in earnest, in full faith they were upon the right trail. Doubtful as he was, West had neglected no precautions. The map assured him that they were invading a disorderly section of the city, where to be well-dressed would only invite suspicion, and might lead to trouble. To avoid this possibility, he had donned his most shabby suit, and wore a cap largely concealing his face. In one pocket of his jacket within easy reach lay hidden his service revolver loaded, and he had induced Sexton to accept a smaller weapon in case of emergency.

Gans Street was not inviting, the saloon on the corner being flanked by several small factories. The brick side-walk was in bad condition, and littered with junk of all kinds, while the road-way was entirely uncared for, and deeply rutted from heavy traffic. Half way down the block, was a tannery, closed now for the night, but with its odour yet permeating the entire atmosphere. Altogether, the scene was desolate and disagreeable enough, but the street was deserted of pedestrians, the factory doors tightly closed for the night.

The two men pressed their way through along the narrow passage, finding less obstruction as they advanced, the second block being composed entirely of houses, largely of the tenement type, and apparently principally populated by children. Wray Street, once attained, was of an entirely different character, being lined with homes, usually humble enough outwardly, yet the throughfare was clean, and the small yards had generally an appearance of neatness in marked contrast to its surroundings. 238 was a three story brick, on the corner, the second story evidently utilized for living purposes, and the ground floor occupied as a saloon. The upper story exhibited no signs of occupancy, the windows unwashed, and two of them boarded up. The saloon possessed a fairly respectable appearance, the lettering across the front window proclaiming it as "Mike's Place," and seemed to be doing some business, several entering and departing by way of its hospitable door, while the two lingered in uncertainty opposite. Standing there idly however did not appeal to West.

"Well, let's go over," he said impatiently. "There is nothing to be learned here."

It was an ordinary bar-room, and their entrance apparently aroused no special interest. Besides the man behind the bar, a rather rough looking foreigner, a Pole in West's judgment, three customers were in the place, two with feet upon the rail talking with the drink dispenser, and, one at a small table moodily contemplating a half emptied stein of beer. There were three other tables in the room, and the Captain with a swift glance about, drew out a chair and sat down, his action being imitated by Sexton. The bar-tender came forward around the end of the bar, while the man nearest shifted his position slightly so as to look them over, conversation instantly ceasing. Something indefinable in the fellow's attitude, and steady stare, gave West a feeling of hostility, which was not dispelled by the gruff greeting of the bar-tender.

"Well, what is it you fellers want?"

"A stein apiece, and a sandwich--you serve them, don't you?"

"Sure; ham or beef?"

"Ham."

There was no cordiality, no welcome in either manner or speech. It was plainly evident the proprietor of the saloon felt no enthusiasm over his unknown customers. The eyes of the two men met understandingly, but the few words exchanged between them were entirely foreign to the situation. Mike came back with the beer and sandwiches, pausing this time to wipe off the table, as an excuse for speech.

"You guys live 'round here?" he asked gruffly, "Don't remember ever seein' yer in here before."

"No," returned West indifferently, looking directly into the hard face. "I'm a smoke inspector, an' we just dropped in on our way back to the office. Why?"

"Oh, nuthin'; only we don't get much trade outside the neighbourhood. I wish ter hell ye'd get after that tannery; can't hardly breathe here sometimes."

"That's what we were looking after; had some complaints lately."

"Sure, I been kickin' 'bout it for a month. You fellers have another beer on me."

He walked back toward the bar, pausing an instant to whisper a word to the taller man who still stood there staring moodily at the table. What he said apparently determined action, for the fellow addressed, crossed the room to where West and Sexton sat, deliberately pulled up a vacant chair, and joined them.

"Bring me another, Mike," he ordered. "That is, if these gents don't object to my joining 'em awhile."

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