ute. I'm an officer of the law, and I could arrest you and
take you to New Orleans on what evidence I've got. How about
that?--what?"

There was good fighting blood on the Farnham side, notwithstanding the
kindly Doctor Bertie's peaceful avocation, and the calm gray eyes that
met Broffin's were militantly angry when the retort came.

"If I had a brother, Mr. Broffin, he would be able to answer you better
than I can!" she flamed out. "Let me pass, please!"

It was not often that Broffin lost his head or his temper, but both were
gone when he struck back.

"That'll be all right, too!" he broke out harshly, blocking the way to
force her to listen to him. "You think you've bluffed me, don't
you?--what? Let me tell you: some fine day this duck whose name isn't
Gavitt will turn up here--to see you; then I'll nab him. If you find out
where he is, and write to him not to come, it'll be all the same; he'll
come anyway, and when he does come, I'll get him!"

When Miss Farnham had gone in and there was nothing left for him to do
but to compass his own disappearance, Broffin went away, telling himself
with many embellishments that for once in his professional career he had
made an ass of himself. He had made a sorry botch of a measurably simple
detail, to say nothing of letting his temper push him into the final
foolish boast which might easily defeat him.

None the less, he was able to set some few gains over against the one
critical loss--if one may be said to lose what he has never had. Failing
to learn the true name and place of the Bayou State Security robber, he
told himself that he had established beyond question the correctness of
his hypothesis. The doctor's daughter knew the man; she had known him
before the robbery; she was willing to be his accomplice to the extent
of her ability. There was only one explanation of this attitude. In
Broffin's wording of it, Miss Farnham was "gone on him," if not openly,
at least to such an extent as to make her anxious to shield him.

That being the case, Broffin set it down as a fact as good as
accomplished that the man would sooner or later come to Wahaska. The
detective's knowledge of masculine human nature was as profoundly acute
as the requirements of his calling demanded. With a woman like Miss
Farnham for the lure, he could be morally certain that his man would
some time fling caution, or even a written prohibition, to the winds,
and walk into the trap.

This misfire of B