"I was in the kitchen," said Kitty, confidingly. "I saw shadows on
the window curtain. It did not look right. So I started to inquire
and almost bumped into two men leaving the apartment. They took to
their heels when they saw me.

Again the squat man nodded. He appeared to be a good listener.

"Where were you when we crossed the fire escape?"

"In the yard on the other side of the fence." There was reluctance
in the guttural voice.

"Oh, I see. You live there."

As this was a supposition and not a direct query, the squat man
wagged his head affirmatively.

Kitty, her ears strained for disquieting sounds in the kitchen, laid
her palm on the patient's cheek. It was very hot. She dipped a bit
of cotton into the water, which had grown cold, and dampened the
wounded man's cheeks and throat. Not that she expected to accomplish
anything by this act; it relieved the nerve tension. This man was
no fool. If her surmises were correct he was a strong man both
in body and in mind. In a rage he would be terrible. However, had
Johnny Two-Hawks done it - beaten the man and escaped? No doubt he
had been watching all the time and had at length stepped in to learn
if his subordinates had followed his instructions and to what extent
they had succeeded.