woman is in; you heard me ask the elevator boy. For two cents I'd—"
I had seen it when he did. The door was ajar about an inch, and a narrow wedge of rose-colored light showed beyond. I pushed the door a little and listened. Then, with both men at my heels, I stepped into the private corridor of the apartment and looked around. It was a square reception hall, with rugs on the floor, a tall mahogany rack for hats, and a couple of chairs. A lantern of rose-colored glass and a desk light over a writing-table across made the room bright and cheerful. It was empty.
None of us was comfortable. The place was full of feminine trifles that made us feel the weakness of our position. Some such instinct made McKnight suggest division.
"We look like an invading army," he said. "If she's here alone, we will startle her into a spasm. One of us could take a look around and—"
"What was that? Didn't you hear something?"
The sound, whatever it had been, was not re-
