CHAPTER XXVIIIThe two young people who stood hesitating outside the police station appeared to be a good deal on edge. Frank Abbott observed them because the girl was rather out of the way graceful and well put on. She was, as a matter of fact, Miss Myrtle Page, and she worked in the local beauty parlour. Her companion, Norman Evans, was a clerk in the solicitor’s office over the way. They were in the middle of an argument, and as Frank approached he heard the girl say, “I said I’d meet you here, but I didn’t say I’d go in.” To which Mr. Evans replied that she ought to make up her mind and not keep chopping and changing.
“Well then, I have made it up! Let the police find out about their own murders! It’s no business of ours!”
Frank slackened his pace.
“But Myrtle——”
“I don’t care what
