Where, he could not tell; at his own table, perhaps, or possibly at a club dinner.

He remembered the quick, upward toss, the slender receptacle held high.

He leaned far forward, and watched the nervous step and halting gait.

Had Masie and the customer not been ahead of him, he would have hurried past them and called to the man to stop--not an unusual thing with him when his suspicions were aroused.

Instead, he waited until he was well down the stairs, then strolled carelessly toward the door, intending to make some excuse to accost the man on the sidewalk.