a man who
drains fresh life into his veins.

"Perhaps now," Peter Ruff suggested, pointing to the motionless figure,
"you can give me some explanation as to this!"

Merries looked away from him all the time he was speaking. His voice was
thick and nervous.

"There were three of us lunching together," he began--"four in all.
There was a dispute, and this man threatened us. Afterwards there was a
fight. It fell to my lot to take him away, and I can't get rid of him!
I can't get rid of him!" he repeated, with something that sounded like a
sob.

"I still do not see," Peter Ruff argued, "why you should have brought
him here and deposited him upon my perfectly new carpet."

"You are Peter Ruff," Merries declared. "'Crime Investigator and Private
Detective,' you call yourself. You are used to this sort of thing. You
will know what to do with it. It is part of your business."

"I can assure you," Peter Ruff answered, "that you are under a delusion
as to the details of my profession. I am Peter Ruff," he admitted, "and
I call myself a crime investigator--in fact, I am the only one worth
speaking of in the world. But I certainly deny that I am used to
having dead bodies deposited upon my carpet, and that I make a habit of
disposing of them--especially gratis."

Merries tore open his coat.

"Listen," he said, his voice shaking hysterically, "I must get rid of
it or go mad. For two hours I have been driving about in a motor car
with--it for a passenger. I drove to a quiet spot and I tried to lift
it out--a policeman rode up! I tried again, a man rushed by on a motor
cycle, and turned to look at me! I tried a few minutes later--the
policeman came back! It was always the same. The night seemed to have
eyes. I was watched everywhere. The--the face began to mock me. I'll
swear that I heard it chuckle once!"

Peter Ruff moved a little further away.

"I don't think I'll have anything to do with it," he declared. "I don't
like your description at all."

"It'll be all right with you," Merries declared eagerly. "It's my
nerves, that's all. You see, I was there--when the accident happened.
See here," he added, tearing a pocketbook from his coat, "I have three
hundred and seventy pounds saved up in case I had to bolt. I'll keep
seventy--three hundred for you--to dispose of it!"

Ruff leaned over the motionless body, looked into its face, and nodded.

"Masters, the bookmaker," he remarked. "H'm! I did hear that he had a
lot o