I was all upset about the loss of the car,
got in touch with the insurance company, who turned me over to
McBirney here, and the rest of the fellows went down to the Club."
"There was no trace of the car in the city?" asked Garrick, of the
detective.
"I was coming to that," replied McBirney. "There was at least a
rumour. You see, I happen to know several of the police on fixed
posts up there, and one of them has told me that he noticed a car,
which might or might not have been Mr. Warrington's, pull up,
about the time his car must have disappeared, at a place in Forty-
seventh Street which is reputed to be a sort of poolroom for
women."
Garrick raised his eyebrows the fraction of an inch.
"At any rate," pursued McBirney, "someone must have been having a
wild time there, for they carried a girl out to the car. She
seemed to be pretty far gone and even the air didn't revive her--
that is, assuming that she had been celebrating not wisely but too
well. Of course, the whole thing is pure speculation yet, as far
as Warrington's car is concerned.
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