o arrest the man. He knew that Leverage disapproved,
but he also knew that Leverage was sportsman enough to let him handle the
case in his own way.

On one of his long strolls through the downtown section of the
city--daily walks which helped him to think connectedly--David Carroll
felt a hand on his arm and heard an eager feminine voice in his ear:

"Gracious goodness! If it isn't the perfectly marvelous Mr. David
Carroll!"

Carroll bowed instinctively. Then his lips expanded into the first
wholesome smile he had experienced in forty-eight hours.

"Miss Evelyn Rogers!"

"You did recognize me, didn't you? How simply splendiferous! I'm awfully
glad we met!"

"So am I, Miss Rogers."

She dropped her voice confidentially.

"Will you do me a _great_ favor--an _enormous_ favor?"

"Certainly. What is it?"

"It's this." She looked around carefully. "I told some of my friends that
you are a friend of mine, and they don't believe it. They're over yonder
in that ice-cream place. Now, what I want you to do for me is to show
'em. I want you to take me over there and buy me an ice-cream soda!"

Carroll laughed aloud as he took her by the arm and piloted her through
the traffic. He asked only one question:

"What flavor?"

CHAPTER X

A DISCOVERY

If Evelyn Rogers, amply clad as to fur around the neck but somewhat
under-dressed as to lace stockings about the legs, had desired to
create a sensation among her friends, she more than succeeded. She
preceded Carroll into the place, her eyes glowing pridefully, skirted
the table at which her friends sat, then stopped abruptly, forcing
Carroll to do likewise.

"Mr. Carroll," she said sweetly, "I want to introduce you to my friends."
She called them by name. "Girls, this is Mr. Carroll, the famous
detective!"

Carroll bowed in his most courtly manner, and assured them that he was
delighted to make their acquaintance. He insisted that it was always a
pleasure to meet any friends of his very dear friend, Miss Rogers. The
girls at the table giggled with embarrassment, and one or two of them
made rather pallid attempts at repartee. Then Carroll and the
seventeen-year-old found a table in the very center of the floor, even as
a boy, recognizing Carroll, appeared at their elbow.

The detective studied the list intently. Apparently there was no subject
in the world more vital at that moment than the selection of just the
proper concoction. Finally he looked up and sh