"It is for us to find Rochester, and I suggest that we
search this apartment thoroughly."
"I have already done so," objected Ferguson. "And there wasn't the
faintest clew to his hiding place."
"For all that I am not satisfied." Kent walked over and switched
on another light. "When I came here on Wednesday night I had a
tussle with some man, but he escaped in the dark without my seeing
him. I believe he was Rochester."
"You are probably right." Ferguson crossed the room. "And if he
came back once, he may return again. Come ahead," and he plunged
into the first bedroom. The two men subjected each room to an
exhaustive search, but their labors were their only reward; except
for an accumulation of dust, the apartment was undisturbed. They
had reached the kitchenette-pantry when the gong over their heads
sounded loudly, and Kent, with a muttered exclamation hastened
toward the front door of the apartment. Ferguson, intent on
studying the "L" of the building as seen from the window, was
hardly conscious of his departure, and some seconds elapsed before
he turned toward the door.
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