ed on the door.
"Move over and let that valet stand there. I want the light in his eyes
when we're talking to him. Always get the light in the other fellow's
eye. Sisst!"

The door opened to a crack--then wide. The valet came in with an
important strut. He turned and deposited a cage at Delaney's big feet.
The operative moved back with a grunt of disgust. He eyed the cage and
contents with a homicidal expression. His eyes raised and fastened upon
the valet. He hooked his broad thumbs in the arm-holes of his vest and
took a deep breath.

"I hope you're satisfied," he said to Drew, who was smiling. "I hope
this black sparrow don't start anything. I'll finish it, sure."

"What's your name?" asked the chief, turning and consulting a paper.

"Otto Braun," said the valet. "Otto Braun, sir."

"Born in Cologne ... year, sixty-three ... worked as valet and major
domo for British families ... came to America with Mr. Stockbridge, and
have been with him since?"

"That's correct, sir," the valet said, with a start of amazement.

"Are you married?"

"Twice--sir."

"Wife living?"

"Both, sir. I'm paying a small alimony to both."

Delaney grunted. His foot went out toward the magpie which had finished
hopping about the perches of the cage, and was listening with head
cocked sideways.

"You--you have charge of this bird?" asked Drew, turning fully around
and facing the valet with heavy-lidded intentness.

"I'm its keeper, sir!"

Delaney coughed explosively. He leaned down to cover his confusion. He
jabbed a thumb at the bird.

"It's savage," he rumbled. "It pecked at me!"

"Easy," warned Drew, with a quick frown. "Easy, Delaney. I want to get
to the facts of this case. We're wasting time."

"Go ahead, Chief."

"I've had you come down here," said Drew, turning to the valet, "in
order to find out about that magpie. You had charge of it when Mr.
Stockbridge was alive?"

"Yes, sir. I fed it and kept it clean, for the--master." The valet
sniffled slightly. Drew watched him with keen eyes.

"Did it repeat much of Mr. Stockbridge's conversation?" he asked.

"Repeat, sir?"

"What I'm trying to get at is, whether or not the bird was in the habit
of repeating words that seemed to strike its fancy. Did it act like a
parrot?"

"It's very much like a parrot, sir. Sometimes it was sulky and wouldn't
say anything for days. Other times, sir, we had trouble keeping it
quiet."

Drew turned in his chair and fingered a pa