“What do you mean, ‘give it back to him’? I’m not going to give it back to him; I’m going to earn it.”
The car had arrived at the ground floor by now, but she did not touch the gate. “Teddy! What do you mean?”
“He hired me to find out what he does. Well, damn it, I’m going to find out — with or without his cooperation.”
He waited for her to answer, but she did not. “Well,” he said defensively, “you don’t have to have anything to do with it.”
“If you are going on with it, I certainly am. Remember what you promised me?”
“What did I promise?” he asked, with a manner of complete innocence.
“You know.”
“But look here, Cyn — all I’m going to do is to hang around until he comes out, and then tail him. It may take all day. He may decide not to come out.”
“All right. I’ll wait with you.”
“Somebody has to look out for the office.”
“You look out for the office,” she suggested. “I’ll shadow Hoag.”
“Now that’s ridiculous. You — ” The car started to move upward. “Woops! Somebody wants to use it.” He jabbed the button marked “Stop,” then pushed the one which returned the car to the ground floor. This time they did not wait inside; he immediately opened the gate and the door.
Adjacent to the entrance of the apartment house was a little lounge or waiting room. He guided her into it. “Now let’s get this settled,” he commenced.
“It is settled.”
“O.K., you win. Let’s get ourselves staked out.”
“How about right here? We can sit down and he can’t possibly get out without us seeing him.”
“O.K.”
The elevator had gone up immediately after they had quitted it; soon they heard the typical clanging grunt which announced its return to the ground floor. “On your toes, kid.”
She nodded and drew back into the shadows of the lounge. He placed himself so that he could see the elevator door by reflection in an ornamental mirror hanging in the lounge. “Is it Hoag?” she whispered.
“No,” he answered in a low voice, “it’s a bigger man. It looks like — ” He shut up suddenly and grabbed her wrist.
Past the open door of the lounge she saw the hurrying form of Jonathan Hoag go by. The figure did not turn its eyes in their direction but went directly through the outer door. When it swung closed Randall relaxed the hold on her wrist. “I darn near muffed that one,” he admitted.
“What happened?”
“Don’ know. Bum glass in the mirror. Distortion. Tallyho, kid.”
They reached the door as their quarry got to the sidewalk and, as on the day before, turned to the left.
Randall paused uncertainly. “I think we’ll take a chance on him seeing us. I don’t want to lose him.”
“Couldn’t we follow him just as effectively in a cab? If he gets on a bus where he did before, we’ll be better off than we would be trying to get on it with him.” She did not admit, even to herself, that she was trying to keep them away from Hoag.
“No, he might not take a bus. Come on.”
They had no difficulty in following him; he was heading down the street at a brisk, but not a difficult, pace. When he came to the bus stop where he had gotten on the day before, he purchased a paper and sat down on the bench. Randall and Cynthia passed behind him and took shelter in a shop entrance.
When the bus came he went up to the second deck as before; they got on and remained on the lower level. “Looks like he was going right where he went yesterday,” Randall commented. “We’ll get him today, kid.”
She did not answer.
When the bus approached the stop near the Acme Building they were ready and waiting — but Hoag failed to come down the steps. The bus started up again with a jerk; they sat back down. “What do you suppose he is up to?” Randall fretted. “Do you suppose he saw us?”
“Maybe he gave us the slip,” Cynthia suggested hopefully.