or not, as you prefer. In the first place, Mr. Madden was in Pasadena last Wednesday?”
“Why yes—of course he was.”
“You saw him then?”
“For a few minutes—yes. He drove up to the door in that Requa car he uses out here. That was about six o’clock. I talked with him for a while, but he didn’t get out of the car.”
“What did he say?”
“Just asked me if everything was all right, and added that he might be back shortly for a brief stay here—with his daughter.”
“With his daughter, eh?”
“Yes.”
“Did you make any inquiries about the daughter?”
“Why, yes—the usual polite hope that she was well. He said she was quite well, and anxious to get here.”
“Was Madden alone in the car?”
“No. Thorn was with him—as always. And another man whom I had never seen before.”
“They didn’t go into the house?”
“No. I had the feeling Mr. Madden intended to, but changed his mind.”
Bob Eden looked at Charlie Chan, “Mr. Fogg—did you notice anything about Madden’s manner? Was he just as always?”
Fogg’s brow wrinkled. “Well, I got to thinking about it after he left. He did act extremely nervous and sort of—er—harassed.”
“I’m going to tell you something, Mr. Fogg, and I rely entirely on your discretion. You know that if we weren’t all right, Will Holley would not have sent us. Mr. Madden
