Detective Fiction Weekly. Vol. 36, No. 4, October 20, 1928

The afternoon that he took his new job he left the place about five o’clock. His first objective was a cheap clothing store which was not in the immediate neighborhood. He bought a ready made sack suit, two or three inexpensive shirts, ties, socks, undergarments, and a suit of pyjamas. Two or three other little items, and a straw suitcase to carry them in, completed his purchases. Farther down the street he bought a cheap cap. At the drug store where the taxi pirate had deserted him he found the necessary toilet articles to complete his kit.

Before he went on duty he retired to his room and changed his tailored suit for the inferior garment he had bought. His eyeglasses he also discarded, resolving to risk the upper part of his face in order to obliterate more perfectly the described shadower of Neal.

He was in a quandary as to how to dispose of his own clothes and the soft felt hat. He dared not give them away, nor yet sell them to any second-hand store for fear they might be traced. Finally he decided to parcel post them to himself at home. This he did the first thing the following morning. He put no return address on the bundle, and he dared not put in a message of any sort to his father for fear the package might fail to reach its destination, but he wrote his name and address in his natural hand and prayed that his father would observe and quiet his fears.

The first night on duty he was too busy to proceed with his effort to reach the imprisoned Christine. His duties were too new to him for him to know just how and when he could desert his post.

He confined his efforts to the first floor and basement and, after midnight, dozed intermittently until daylight.

Upon the return of Jack Durant, who did not live in the house, he attended to his mailing business, had breakfast at a delicatessen, and returned to chat with the alert Mr. Durant before thinking of going to bed.

From him he learned many things about the building, the floor plan, the description, names, and idiosyncrasies of the various tenants, and a great deal about Mr. Durant himself. He was still on guard, fearing even yet to take the obliging young fellow into his confidence. Finally he went to bed for several hours.

In the early afternoon he returned to the clerk’s office. At Durant’s suggestion he made a personal tour of the house in order to make sure of the plans. He located the Carlotti apartment without trouble on the third floor overlooking the street.

It was a four-room affair, bathroom, kitchen, and the two living rooms with disappearing closet beds. There was a tiny hallway just inside the corridor door, which connected the two bedrooms.

He dared not tarry near the door with the number 307, much as he felt the urge to assault the barrier with his bare hands. Upon his return to the lobby of the house he was saved the trouble of approaching the matter of his affair by the blunt interest of Mr. Durant.

“Ha!” boomed the latter at sight of him. “Come behind the counter so we can talk. Well? What have you planned on doing? Which is your girl, anyhow? You haven’t told me a damn thing.”

Harry eyed his untried friend. Then he drew a deep breath, and plunged.

“Her name is Christine,” he said soberly. “I don’t think you have ever seen—”

“I know I haven’t,” butted in Mr. Durant promptly. “There ain’t a Christine in the Bon Ton.”

Harry smiled sadly.

“She is kept a prisoner by Antonio Carlotti,” he explained.

Durant studied him anxiously. Then:

“Say!” he exclaimed. “You’re clear off your nut. I’ve already told you about the Carlottis. They’re ham actors out of work — just the pair of them — singers they think they are — I’ve heard ’em yodel. Ha! I doubt if they’re man and wife. They ain’t old enough to have a grown daughter. Why, Harry—”

“I didn’t say she was their daughter. I merely said she is a prisoner here. And that is—”

“When did she arrive?”

“Tuesday.”

“Ha! They must have smuggled her in at night. I can swear that no young woman was brought here while I was on the job.”

“I don’t know how it was done at all,” replied Harry wearily. “But I know she is here, and I’m going to see her.”

“Sure you ain’t dreaming?”

“If I didn’t think it would spoil everything, I’d break into that apartment right now,” stated Harry violently.

“She’s here,” decided Mr. Durant wisely. “Easy, kid, easy! Ha! I’ll help you. We’ve got to get both Carlotti and his wife away at the same time so you can see the girl alone. Ha! Let me think! Let me think!”

But all the thinking both of them could do yielded no results. Signor and Signorina Carlotti could not be pried from their apartment at the same time by any sort of subterfuge. And great care had to be exercised in order to keep from arousing their suspicions.