. There recurred to me her mimicry of a woman's voice--Laura
Bowman's as I believed--to determine through Chung who Thomas Gilbert's
feminine visitor had been. Should that clue have been followed up before
I moved on Eddie Hughes? Even as I got to this point, I heard Worth,
punctuating his remarks with the whang of his rock on the bit of twig he
was pounding to pieces,

"Boyne, I won't stand for any arrest being made except in all
sincerity--the person you honestly believe to be the criminal."

"Does that mean you forbid me, in so many words, to proceed against
Hughes on what I've got?"

"It does," Worth said. "You're not convinced yourself. Leave it alone."

"'Nough said!" I jumped to my feet. If he wouldn't let me lay hands on
Hughes--there was nothing to do but go after the next one. "You two run
along. Get your ferns. There's a man at the club here I have to see."

Barbara was afoot instantly; Worth lay looking at her for a moment,
then heaved himself up, shook his shoulders, and stood beside her.

"Race you to the foot of the hill," she flashed up at him.

"You're on," he chuckled. "I'll give you a running start--to the tree
down there--and beat you."

They were off. She ran like a deer. Worth got away as though he was in
earnest. He caught her up just at the finish; I couldn't see which won;
but they walked a few rods hand in hand.

Something swelled in my throat as I watched them away: life's
springtime--and the year's; boy and girl running, like kids that had
never known a fear or a mortal burden, over an earth greener than any
other, because its time of verdure is brief, dreaming already of the
golden-tan of California midsummer, under boughs where tree blooms made
all the air sweet.

For sake of the boy and the girl who didn't know enough to take care of
their own happiness, I wheeled and galloped in the direction of the
country club.

There is an institution known--and respected--in police circles as the
Holy Scare. I was determined to make use of it. I'd throw a holy scare
into a man I knew, and see what came out.

CHAPTER XX

AT THE COUNTRY CLUB

The country club, when I walked up its lawn, was noisy with the
hammering and jawing of its decoration committee. Out in the glass
belvedere, like superior goods on display, taking it easy while every
one else worked, I saw a group of young matrons of the smart set, Ina
Vandeman among them, drinking tea. The open play she was making at Wort