There was a slight pause, as he ran over in his mind some way to
gain his entrance without force.

"Do you know Mr. Marsh downstairs?" he inquired, suddenly, his eyes
keeping a keen watch on her face.

"I do not know any of the tenants in the building."

"That's strange," said Morgan, thoughtfully. "I was just talking
with Mr. Marsh, and he told me that you knew all about the trouble
last night. He suggested that if I would come and see you I could
get just the information I wanted."

"I don't know this Mr. Marsh, and I can't understand why he should
make such a statement." Surprise was apparent in her voice.

Morgan was quite sure that her surprise was genuine. At the same
time his remarks had just the effect he had hoped they would. It
brought a new element into the matter and added to the girl's
natural curiosity. She opened the door wider, and nodding toward the
front room, said, "Step in and tell me what you wish to know."

The room into which Morgan entered was a counterpart of the one
across the hall, though as he rapidly observed the furnishings, he
was impressed with the greater taste displayed and the homelike
atmosphere. A piece of embroidery, on which she had evidently been
working, lay on the arm of a chair near the window.

Conjecturing that she would resume her seat in this chair, Morgan
seated himself where he could keep his back to the window, while the