I. THE INNOCENT BYSTANDER

"Well, Mr. Shirley, your coming here was a Godsend! I don't know what
to do now. The newspapers will get this surely. I depended on Cronin: he
must have been drinking."

Shirley shook his head, as he explained, "I know Cronin's reputation,
for I was a police reporter. He is a sterling man. There's foul work
here which extends beyond your father's case. But we are wasting time.
Why don't you introduce me to your physician? Just tell him about
Cronin, and that you have confided in me completely."

Van Cleft went upstairs without a word. Unused to any worry, always able
to pay others for the execution of necessary details, this young man was
a victim of the system which had engulfed his unfortunate sire in the
maelstrom of reckless pleasure.

By his ingenuous adroitness, it may be seen, Shirley was inveigling
himself into the heart of the affair, in his favorite disguise as that
of the "innocent bystander." His innate dramatic ability assisted him
in maintaining his friendly and almost impersonal role, with a success
which had in the past kept the secret of his system from even the
evildoers themselves.

"A little investigation of the telephone exchanges during the next day
or two will not be wasted time," he mused. "I'll get Sam Grindle, their
assistant advertising manager to show me the way the wheels go 'round.
No man can ride a Magic Carpet of Bagdad over the skyscrapers in these
days of shattered folklore."

Howard Van Cleft returned with the famous surgeon, Professor MacDonald.
He was elderly, with the broad high forehead, dignity of poise, and
sharpness of glance which bespeaks the successful scientist. His face,
to-night, was chalky and the firm, full mouth twitched with nervousness.
He greeted Shirley abstractedly. The criminologist's manner was that of
friendly anxiety.

"You are here, sir, as a friend of the family?"

"Yes. Howard has told me of the terrible mystery of this case. As an
ex-newspaper man I imagine that my influence and friendships may keep
the unpleasant details from the press."

"That is good," sighed the doctor, with relief. "How soon will you do
it?"

"Now, using this telephone. No, for certain reasons, I had better use an
outside instrument. I will call up men I know on each paper, as though
this were a 'scoop,' so that knowing me, they will be confident that
I tell them the truth as a favor. Such deceit is excusable under the
circumstances. It may eve