quick as that!"

"How do you know it was a revolver?"

"By what followed, Chief."

"What followed?"

"Her hand creeps into the muff. It works around while the clerk is
mixin' the sundae. When the clerk's back is turned, out comes the hilt
of a nice, little gat with ivory trimmin's. It's one of them lovely
watch-charm affairs--all polished up without a knock-out punch."

"A twenty-two?"

"About that. It's the caliber them actresses carry in their stockings.
It might kill, though, at short range."

"Go on, Delaney. Tell me what happened then?"

"I gets my chewin'-gum, Chief. I backs to the curb. They finish their
sundae. I'm across the street when the lad goose-steps out of the
drug-store--alone. O'Toole was talking with the fixed-post cop and a
Central Office man half-way down the block. They gets my office when I
pulls out my handkerchief. The C. O. dick covers the corner. O'Toole
falls in behind the lad in the fur benny as he passes him, with collar
turned up and leggins working at a double-time through the snow."

"That's good! O'Toole will put him to bed."

"Sure, Chief. Leave it to O'Toole. He never lost a tail yet. He'll
follow that lad to France--unless you call him off."

Drew polished the glass and strained his eyes in the direction of
Stockbridge's mansion. The Avenue had quieted over the hour after
midnight. A few belated pedestrians, muffled to the brows, glanced at
the waiting taxi with curiosity. They did not stop, however.

Delaney drew out his watch and studied its dial by aid of the light
which streamed from a corner arc. He replaced the watch.

"Twelve-forty-five," he announced. "Wish I'd brought a pint along. I
would have, if the dame hadn't come out of the drug-store so quick."

"Did she buy anything--or do anything, after the officer left her?"

"No! Just waited a second, then came sailin' out without a smile. Had
her hands crammed in her muff. That's where the revolver was. Bet it
was loaded."

"More deduction," said Drew. "Don't jump at conclusions, Delaney. Get
facts and work from them. Get----"

The Detective's voice trailed into silence. He reached swiftly and
wiped his hand over the frosted pane. He pressed his nose against the
glass until it became white with cold. He jerked back his head.

"Quek!" he signaled from deep down in his throat. "Quek, Delaney! Open
the door. Somebody is coming out of the house!"

Delaney twisted the handle. A breath of stinging air swept int