r before I did."

"I'm selling shares in a copper mine," said Kernan. "I may establish
an office here. Well, well! and so old Barney is a New York
detective. You always had a turn that way. You were on the police in
Saint Jo after I left there, weren't you?"

"Six months," said Woods. "And now there's one more question, Johnny.
I've followed your record pretty close ever since you did that hotel
job in Saratoga, and I never knew you to use your gun before. Why did
you kill Norcross?"

Kernan stared for a few moments with concentrated attention at the
slice of lemon in his high-ball; and then he looked at the detective
with a sudden, crooked, brilliant smile.

"How did you guess it, Barney?" he asked, admiringly. "I swear I
thought the job was as clean and as smooth as a peeled onion. Did I
leave a string hanging out anywhere?"

Woods laid upon the table a small gold pencil intended for a
watch-charm.

"It's the one I gave you the last Christmas we were in Saint Jo. I've
got your shaving mug yet. I found this under a corner of the rug in
Norcross's room. I warn you to be careful what you say. I've got it
put on to you, Johnny. We were old friends once, but I must do my
duty. You'll have to go to the chair for Norcross."

Kernan laughed.

"My luck stays with me," said he. "Who'd have thought old Barney was
on my trail!" He slipped one hand inside his coat. In an instant
Woods had a revolver against his side.

"Put it away," said Kernan, wrinkling his nose. "I'm only
investigating. Aha! It takes nine tailors to make a man, but one can
do a man up. There's a hole in that vest pocket. I took that pencil
off my chain and slipped it in there in case of a scrap. Put up your
gun, Barney, and I'll tell you why I had to shoot Norcross. The old
fool started down the hall after me, popping at the buttons on the
back of my coat with a peevish little .22 and I had to stop him.
The old lady was a darling. She just lay in bed and saw her $12,000
diamond necklace go without a chirp, while she begged like a
panhandler to have back a little thin gold ring with a garnet worth
about $3. I guess she married old Norcross for his money, all right.
Don't they hang on to the little trinkets from the Man Who Lost Out,
though? There were six rings, two brooches and a chatelaine watch.
Fifteen thousand would cover the lot."

"I warned you not to talk," said Woods.

"Oh, that's all right," said Kernan. "The stuff is in my suit case at