ed from Drew's clean-cut face. His eyes rested upon the
telephone. "I'm going to call her up presently," he said. "I'll talk
with her. I'll tell her that you were here--that you left the little
revolver--that you stand ready to swear it was clean and fully loaded.
Then, when I hear what she has to say about everything, I shall call
you up. Is that satisfactory, Mr. Drew?"

The detective turned the revolver in his palm and pressed it forward.
"Take it," said he, "and keep it under cover. I'm off with Mr. Delaney.
Thanks for the club soda."

"And the cigar," added the big operative as he opened the door.

Drew hesitated on the landing. He turned and went back. Nichols stood
by the banisters. The soft light from inside clear-cut the officer's
figure like a statue.

"You can do me a favor," said the detective in a whisper. "A damn nice
little favor."

"What is it?"

"Have you an extra photo of the girl-in-the-case. One that's laying
around somewhere. I don't mean the one on the mantel."

"What do you want it for?"

"For myself. I admire that young lady."

Harry Nichols disappeared through the doorway. He returned within a
minute with a cabinet-size photo upon the front of which was written,
"From Loris, January '18," in the vertical chirography much practiced
by social buds.

"Thanks," said Drew unbuttoning his overcoat and thrusting the photo
within his breast. "I shall keep and cherish this, as one of my most
sacred possessions. Congratulations, young man!"

The detective's words rang sincere. Nichols flushed. He stammered an
answer as Drew hurried down the carpeted steps and joined Delaney at
the storm-door.

"Chief," said the operative as they reached the sidewalk and turned
toward Madison Avenue. "Chief, why didn't you pump that lad about
Stockbridge. You didn't ask him a thing about the old man."

"Unethical to a client," reproved Drew linking arm with the operative.
"Come on! We must hurry! I've an idea--which is a very strange thing
for a New York detective to have--that Harry Nichols, if he stays in
town on furlough, will represent Loris in all matters. I don't know
where she could find a better counselor. He's a clam! He told us
nothing!"

"Wise boy, Chief! Only fools and women talk to detectives."

"Umph!" said Drew at this sally. "Umph! Well, come on. It's quit
snowing. It's daybreak over there in the east and I think the clouds
will clear before it gets much later. You----"

"Say, Chief!"