ook his head.

"I can't decide," he announced gravely. "They all sound so good! Walnut
banana sundae; strawberry glory; peach Melba; chocolate parfait, with
whipped cream and cracked walnuts; elegantine fizz--Help me out, please."

She, too, plunged into the labyrinth of toothsome titles. Finally she
emerged smiling.

"Have you ever tasted a chocolate fudge-sundae?"

"No-o, I'm afraid not."

"Well, it's just the _elegantest_ thing--vanilla ice-cream with hot fudge
poured over it, and as soon as they pour the fudge--it's steaming hot,
you know--simply scalding--it forms into a sort of candy, and then when
they serve it--"

"I fancy you want one, too, don't you?"

"Oh, goodness me, yes! I _always_ eat chocolate fudge sundaes. They're
simply scrumptious--but they do take the edge off one's dinner appetite.
Personally, I don't care so very much. I believe we eat too much anyway,
don't you, Mr. Carroll? I read in a book once that after you reach a
certain point in eating--that is, after you've swallowed just the right
number of calories--the rest don't do you a single particle of good. And
besides, ice-cream is healthy, and certainly there's nothing with more
nourishment in it than chocolate--unless it is raisins. I like raisins
well enough--"

Carroll turned to the boy.

"Two chocolate fudge sundaes," he ordered; "and put a few raisins on
one of them."

He found the large eyes of the girl turned upon him adoringly.

"Do you know," she said, "that when I said the other day that you were
the most wonderful, the most marvelous man in the world, I didn't even
know half how wonderful or marvelous you really were?"

"Thanks! And what caused the discovery?"

"The way you acted just now. Why, I'm sure those girls think that you've
known me all your life--or that we're engaged, or something!"

Carroll was a trifle startled.

"Engaged?"

"Why not? You don't _look_ like an old man."

The detective chuckled.

"Nor do I feel like one when I'm with you. You're deliciously
refreshing."

"And you are--are--exquisite! Do you know, when I'm with you, I feel
inspired to great deeds--to noble--er--attainments."

"Really?"

"Uh-huh! Honest to goodness. And did I really help you by what I told you
the other day?"

"You certainly did, Miss Rogers. There isn't a doubt of it."

She lowered her voice and leaned confidentially across the table.

"Will you tell me something?"

"Surely?"

"Who really killed Mr. Warre