ritten all over her."

Wilton led the way into his private office and closed the door.

"I'm glad it happened at just this time," he said, "when everybody's
out of the building." He struck the desk with his fist. "By God!" he
ground out through gritted teeth. "How I hate these wild, unbridled
women!"

"Yes," agreed Hastings, taking the chair Wilton rolled forward for him.
"She worries me. Wonder if she's going to Sloanehurst."

"That would be the logical sequel to this visit," Wilton said. "But
pardon my show of temper. You came to see me?"

"Yes; and, like her, for information. But," the detective said, smiling,
"not for rough-house purposes."

The judge had not entirely regained his equanimity; his face still wore
a heightened colour; his whole bearing was that of a man mentally
reviewing the results of an unpleasant incident. Instead of replying
promptly to Hastings, he sat looking out of the window, obviously
troubled.

"Her game is blackmail," he declared at last.

"On whom?" the detective queried.

"Arthur Sloane, of course. She calculates that he'll play to have her
cease annoying his daughter's fiance. And she'll impress Arthur, if
Jarvis ever lets her get to him. Somehow, she strangely compels
credence."

"Not for me," Hastings objected, and did not point out that Wilton's
words might be taken as an admission of Webster's guilt.

The judge himself might have seen that.

"I mean," he qualified, "she seems too smart a woman to put herself in a
position where ridicule will be sure to overtake her. And yet, that's
what she's doing--isn't she?"

The detective was whittling, dropping the chips into the waste-basket.
He spoke with a deliberateness unusual even in him, framing each
sentence in his mind before giving it utterance.

"I reckon, judge, you and I have had some four or five talks--that is,
not counting Saturday evening and yesterday at Sloanehurst. That's about
the extent of our acquaintance. That right?"

"Why, yes," Wilton said, surprised by the change of topic.

"I mention it," Hastings explained, "to show how I've felt toward
you--you interested me. Excuse me if I speak plainly--you'll see why
later on--but you struck me as worth studying, deep. And I thought you
must have sized me up, catalogued me one way or the other. You're like
me: waste no time with men who bore you. I felt certain, if you'd been
asked, you'd have checked me off as reliable. Would you?"

"Unquestionably."

"