"
"Do you know their names?"
"No, I can't say I do, though it seems as if I'd heard one of them
called Fred. I can't say which it was."
"Do they always come by on the same day--on Wednesday?" asked Jane,
forgetful once more of Dean's warning to let him do the talking lest her
voice should betray her sex.
"Come to think of it," said the man, apparently noticing nothing
unusual, "I guess it always is on a Wednesday they come by."
"Is the number of their car anything like this?" asked Dean, exhibiting
an entry in his notebook.
"I couldn't say," said the man, studying the figures. "I know it is a
New York license, and the number ends with two nines like this one does.
What might you be wanting them for?"
He spoke to a cloud of dust, for Dean had started up the motorcycle
before he finished speaking and already was speeding away.
"Where now?" asked Jane.
"I don't know," he answered frankly, "I only know we are going the
direction the Hoffs went, and I want to gain on them before they get too
far ahead. The chap back there had told us all he knew and was beginning
to get curious, so I thought it better to vamoose."
"It's funny about his never seeing them coming back."
"Probably there is nothing mysterious about that. I have a notion they
always come up one side the river and down the other, taking the 125th
Street ferry home.
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