The mean street, with its high smells and grimy buildings, was strangely quiet; the venders' carts, along the curb, were empty; the stands were shrouded, and the stores dim-looking. As the automobile stopped before the secret agent's door, a bell in a neighboring tower struck one.
"Hello," cried Fuller, "what's Stumph doing?"
The hall door stood open to the fullest extent; the light was switched on, and beneath it stood Stumph with a roughly-dressed man whom Ashton-Kirk an once recognized as young Drevenoff. Stumph, aroused out of his usual gravity, was gesticulating determinedly. Drevenoff seemed insisting upon something doggedly. As Fuller spoke, the two heard the car for the first time, and turned.
"Thank goodness, here he is now!" cried Stumph. He dashed excitedly down the step. "Here is a man who desires to see you, sir," he said to Ashton-Kirk. "He would not leave, though I told him a dozen times that you were not at home."
The secret agent, followed by Fuller and the man, entered the hall and the door closed behind them.
"I was sent to fetch you at once to Dr. Morse's place on Fordham Road, Eastbury."
Ashton-Kirk looked at the young man; his face was pale, his eyes were brilliant with excitement.
Instantly the man opened the door; the chauffeur was upon the point of starting away, but halted upon hearing Stumph's voice.
"What trains are there?" asked Ashton-Kirk of Drevenoff.
"No more to-night," answered the man. "I had hoped to find you before the last one left."
Followed by the others, he hastily reached the car; Fuller seated himself beside Dixon and Drevenoff entered the tonneau with the secret agent.
"Fordham Road, Eastbury," directed Ashton-Kirk. "The number is 2979."
The car wheeled in its own length under the skilful hand of Dixon; then it went speeding away.
"When did this happen?" asked Ashton-Kirk, of Drevenoff.
"I don't know the hour. Some time to-night."
It is natural, under such circumstances, for an informant to become very voluble; but not so Drevenoff. His answers were brief; his manner, too, was sullen and unwilling.
"Tell me what you know about it," requested Ashton-Kirk.
"I know very little," said the man. "This evening about dark I ate my dinner and looked at the evening paper; then I went to my room, which is on the third floor. I go to bed early these nights; I am not well, you see. It must have been about half-past ten when I heard a knocking at my door. It was Nanon, and she was crying out that Dr. Morse was dead. I dressed and hurried down-stairs. Dr. Morse was sitting all huddled up in his chair; his face was smeared with blood. Miss Corbin was kneeling beside him; the old woman stood by the door."