"House sold out, I suppose?" I said, carelessly, to the face at the window.
"No; I'll wait till some other night. Is it sold out every night?"
"Was it sold out the night of October sixteenth?"
"Sure! that was in one of our big weeks! Great program on then. Why?"
"I don't suppose you could tell me who bought seats one and three in row G, that night?"
"I should say not! do you s'pose I'm a human chart? What's the game?"
"Detective work," I said, casually, thinking he would be less impressed if I did not seem too much interested. "I suppose you can't think of any way that I could find out who bought those seats for that night?"
"Well, no, I can't; unless you might advertise."
"Why put in a personal, asking for the fellows that had those seats."
"But they wouldn't reply; they don't want to be caught."
"Sure, that's so! well, I'll tell you. Put your personal in and ask the fellows who sat behind those seats to communicate with you. Then you can find out something about your party, may be."
"Young man," I said, heartily, "that's a really brilliant idea! I shall act upon it, and I'm much obliged to you."
I offered him a material proof of my gratitude for his suggestion, which he accepted with pleasure, and I went straight away to a newspaper office. This scheme might amount to nothing at all, but on the other hand, it certainly could do no harm.
I inserted a personal notice in the paper, asking that the holders of the seats near one and three G on the night of October sixteenth should communicate with me. I mentioned the numbers of the seats not only behind the mysterious numbers, but in front of them as well, and also at the side. I had little hope that this venture would bring any worth-while result, but there was a chance that it might, and action of any sort was better than doing nothing.
After leaving the newspaper office, I continued my walk, hoping, by deep thought to arrive at some conclusion, or at least to think of some new direction in which to look. But the farther I walked, and the more I thought, the more desperate the situation became. Clear thought and logical inference led only in one direction; and that was toward Janet Pembroke. To lead suspicion away from her, could only be done by dwelling on the thought of my love for her. In spite of her mysterious ways, perhaps because of them, my love for her was fast developing into a mad infatuation, beyond logic and beyond reason. But it was a power, and a power, I vowed, that should yet conquer logic and reason,--aye, even evidence and proof of any wrong-doing on the part of my goddess!