tle if he could have heard, for
the clerk and the bellhop shared the opinion of him held by the rest of
the world; an opinion he carefully fostered. Few knew of his real
interest in life, which was that of criminal detection.

He tensed as he swung into the anteroom of the office suite. Gest, one
of the rare persons who knew of his unique detective work, had babbled
something of a Doctor Satan when he phoned long distance. Doctor Satan!
The mention of that name was enough to bring Keane instantly from
wherever he was, with his powers pitched to their highest and keenest
point in an effort to crush at last the unknown individual who lived for
outlawed thrills.

As soon as he opened the door, it was apparent that something was wrong.
There was no one sitting at the information desk, and from closed doors
beyond came the hum of excited voices.

Keane went to the door where the hum sounded loudest and opened that.

He stared in at three men bending over a fourth who lay on the floor,
stark and motionless--obviously dead! Keane strode to them.

"Who are you, sir?" grated Kroner. "What the devil----"

"Keane!" breathed Gest. "Thank God you're here! There has just been a
murder. I'm sure it's murder--though how it was done, and who did it,
are utterly beyond me."

"This is your Ascott Keane?" said Kroner, in a slightly different tone.
His eyes gained a little respect as they rested on Keane's light gray,
icily calm eyes.

"Yes. Keane--Kroner, vice president. And this is Chichester, treasurer
and secretary."

Keane nodded, and stared at the dead man.

"And this?"

"Wilson, assistant manager. He came in a minute or two ago, saying he
had something of the utmost importance to tell us about the players in
the roulette room...."

Keane nodded. He had been told of that just before he took a plane for
Blue Bay. Gest swallowed painfully and went on:

"Wilson had just started to explain. He said something about the
roulette wheel, and then fell dead. Literally. He fell forward on his
face as though he had been shot. But he wasn't. There isn't a mark on
his body. And he couldn't have been poisoned before he came in here. No
poison could act so exactly, striking at the precise second to keep him
from disclosing his find."

"Doctor's report?" said Keane.

"Grays, house physician, is on his way up now. We sent the information
girl to get him. Didn't want to telephone. You know how these things
spread. We didn't want the