arlet fever or hay fever, thank God," Dundee
heard Mrs. Dunlap say in the comfortable, affectionate voice that went
with her comfortable, pleasant face and body.... Nice woman!

But his eyes were of necessity upon Nita Selim, for that miniature Venus
was, as Penny had predicted, almost tucked under his arm by this time,
her black-pansy eyes wide and wistful, her soft black curls falling
forward as she coaxed:

"You'll come to the cocktail party at my house at 5:30, won't you, Mr.
Dundee?"

"Afraid I can't make it," Dundee smiled down at her. "I'm a busy man,
Mrs. Selim.... You see, I'm Special Investigator attached to the
District Attorney's office," he explained very deliberately.

"O-o-oh!" Nita Selim breathed. Than, step by step, she withdrew, so that
he was no longer submitted to the temptation to put his arm about her
too intriguing little body. And as she retreated, Dundee's keen eyes
noted a hardening of the black-pansy eyes, the sudden throbbing of a
pulse in her very white neck....

"No, don't mind about calling for me," Penny protested a moment later.
"Ralph has already volunteered.... Thanks awfully!"

As Dundee backed out of the driveway his last glance was for a very
small figure in a brown silk summer coat and palest yellow chiffon
frock, slowly rejoining Penelope Crain and Lois Dunlap. What the devil
had frightened her so? For she had been almost terrified.... Of course
she might be one of those silly women who shudder at the sight of a
detective, because they've smuggled in a diamond from Paris or a bottle
of Bacardi from Havana....

But long before his car made the distance back to the city Dundee had
shrugged off the riddle and was concentrating on all the facts he knew
regarding the Maginty case. It was his first real assignment from
Sanderson, and he was determined to make good.

Four hours later he was interrupted in his careful reading of the trial
of Rufus Maginty by the ringing of the telephone bell. That made four
times he had had to snap out the fact that District Attorney Sanderson
was playing some well-earned golf on the Country Club links, Dundee
reflected angrily, as he picked up the receiver.

But the call was for Dundee himself, and the voice on the other end of
the wire was Penny Crain's, although almost unrecognizable.

"Speak more slowly, Penny!" Dundee urged. "What's that again.... Good
Lord! You say that Nita Selim...."

After a minute of listening, and a promise of inst