that we might escape the Scylla of our present
peril and yet split on the Charybdis of circumstantial evidence. Yet I
could see no middle course of conceivable safety, if I held my tongue
another moment. So I spoke up desperately, with the rash resolution
which was the novel feature of my whole conduct on this occasion. But
any sheep would be resolute and rash after dining with Swigger Morrison
at his club.

"I wonder if he rang me up?" I exclaimed, as if inspired.

"You, sonny?" echoed Maguire, decanter in hand. "What in hell could he
know about you?"

"Or what could you know about him?" amended the secretary, fixing me
with eyes like drills.

"Nothing," I admitted, regretting my temerity with all my heart. "But
some one did ring me up about an hour ago. I thought it was Raffles.
I told you I expected to find him here, if you remember."

"But I don't see what that's got to do with the crook," pursued the
secretary, with his relentless eyes boring deeper and deeper into mine.

"No more do I," was my miserable reply. But there was a certain
comfort in his words, and some simultaneous promise in the quantity of
spirit which Maguire splashed into his glass.

"Were you cut off sudden?" asked the secretary, reaching for the
decanter, as the three of us sat round the octagonal table.

"So suddenly," I replied, "that I never knew who it was who rang me up.
No, thank you--not any for me."

"What!" cried Maguire, raising a depressed head suddenly. "You won't
have a drink in my house? Take care, young man. That's not being a
good boy!"

"But I've been dining out," I expostulated, "and had my whack. I
really have."

Barney Maguire smote the table with terrific

"Say, sonny, I like you a lot," said he. "But I shan't like you any if
you're not a good boy!"

"Very well, very well," I said hurriedly. "One finger, if I must."

And the secretary helped me to not more than two.

"Why should it have been your friend Raffles?" he inquired, returning
remorselessly to the charge, while Maguire roared "Drink up!" and then
drooped once more.

"I was half asleep," I answered, "and he was the first person who
occurred to me. We are both on the telephone, you see. And we had
made a bet--"

The glass was at my lips, but I was able to set it down untouched.
Maguire's huge jaw had dropped upon his spreading shirt-front, and
beyond him I saw the person in sequins fast asleep in the artistic
armchair.

"What bet