"To begin dot guess-work business when you are talking to the law
already, it is dangerous," stated Berg in an explanatory tone.
"Well," said Ashton-Kirk, "sometimes a good, pointed guess is of great
service, Mr. Berg. And," with a laugh, "as I am not the law and not
the least dangerous, suppose you make the one that I can see you
turning over in your mind."
"Oh," said Berg, "you are not the coroner's office in?"
"No; merely interested in this case, that's all."
The delicatessen dealer looked relieved.
"I don't want to get people in trouble," said he, guardedly. "But this
is what I guess. Late every night, about the time I shut up my place,
there is a cab comes und by the curbstone stands across the street. I
will not say what is der place it stands in front of; that is not my
business."
"McCausland's gambling house, perhaps," suggested Ashton-Kirk.
The big German looked more relieved than ever.
"Ach, so you know about dot place, eh? All ride. Now I can speak out
and not be afraid to do some harm to nobody." He lowered his voice
still further. "Dot cab came last night as I was locking my door up,
und stands the curbstone by in front of McCausland's, waiting for a
chob. Maybe when I goes away home der driver he sees what happened at
Hume's afterwards, eh?"
"Excellent!" said Ashton-Kirk, his eyes alight.
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