"Why, if you don't want me,
I'll--get along."
"Oh, what's the hurry, Joe?" Burke retorted, with the effect of
stopping the other short. He pressed the buzzer as the agreed
signal to Cassidy. "Where did you say Mary Turner was last
night?"
At the question, all Garson's fears for the woman rushed back on
him with appalling force. Of what avail his safety, if she were
still in peril?
"I don't know where she was," he exclaimed, doubtfully. He
realized his blunder even as the words left his lips, and sought
to correct it as best he might. "Why, yes, I do, too," he went
on, as if assailed by sudden memory. "I dropped into her place
kind of late, and they said she'd gone to bed--headache, I
guess.... Yes, she was home, of course. She didn't go out of the
house, all night." His insistence on the point was of itself
suspicious, but eagerness to protect her stultified his wits.
Burke sat grim and silent, offering no comment on the lie.
"Know anything about young Gilder?" he demanded. "Happen to know
where he is now?" He arose and came around the desk, so that he
stood close to Garson, at whom he glowered.
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