the conductor told him he had reached the street he desired.
Leaving the car, Bob walked to the sidewalk, and then looked about him to get his bearings.
Across the street stood the yellow brick apartment house the waitress had mentioned, and as it was the only building of its kind thereabout, he made his way to it.
Entering the vestibule, Bob scanned the names on the letter boxes for that of Mrs. John Cameron, but though he looked them over three times, he could not see it.
As he stood wondering what to do, a woman opened the door to come out.
Deciding that she was probably one of the people who lived in the building, Bob asked, taking off his hat, and bowing politely:
"Can you tell me if Mrs. John Cameron lives here?"
"No, she doesn't."
"Well, she used to, didn't she?"
"Yes, right across the hall from me, on the third floor, but she moved about six weeks ago."
"Do you know where she's gone?" cried Bob.
"She's moved to Kansas City, but I don't know her address. Is there anything particular you wanted of her?"
"No—that is, I just had a message to deliver to her from her sister in New York."
