Gathering his wits together Kent hurried into the bedroom - it was
empty; so also was the bathroom opening from it. From there Kent
made the rounds of the apartment, switching on the light until the
place was ablaze, but in spite of his minute search of closets and
under beds and behind furniture he could find no trace of his
late adversary. Kent stopped long enough in the pantry to refresh
himself with a glass of water, then he returned to the living room
and sat down in an arm chair by the window. He wanted time to think.
How had the man vanished so utterly, leaving no trace behind in the
apartment? The window in Rochester's room was locked on the inside;
in fact, all the apartment windows were securely fastened, he had
found on his tour of inspection; the only one not locked was the
oval, swinging window high up in the side wall of the bathroom;
only a child could squeeze through it, Kent decided. The window
looked into a well formed by the wings of the apartment house, and
had a sheer drop of fifty feet to the ground below.
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