t it for fair."

"It isn't going to be entirely blind," postulated Carroll. "Barker
assures us of that!"

CHAPTER XII

A CHALLENGE

At four o'clock the following afternoon Carroll received from Chief
Leverage a detailed report on Gerald Lawrence:

"He's a manufacturer," said Leverage. "President of the Capitol City
Woolen Mills. Rated about a hundred thousand--maybe a little more. He's
on the Board of Directors of the Second National. Has the reputation of
being hard, fearless--and considerable of a grouch. Age forty-two.

"Married Naomi Rogers about five years ago. She was twenty-five
then--thirty now. Supposed to be beautiful--and would be a society light
except that Lawrence doesn't care for the soup-and-fish stuff. Report has
it that they're not very happy together. His parents and hers all dead.
Evelyn, her kid sister, lives with them.

"They employ a cook and two maids. No man-servant at all. Roland Warren
was pretty intimate at the house, but so far as I can discover there was
no scandal linking the names of Warren and Mrs. Lawrence. Of course, him
knowing her pretty intimately and being friendly at the house, you could
probably find a good many folks who would say nasty things. But there
hasn't been the real gossip about her and him that there was about a heap
of other women in this town.

"Warren and Lawrence were pretty good friends. Warren was a stockholder
in the woolen mills. On the other hand it seems as though Warren was at
the house a good deal more than just ordinary friendship would have
indicated. But that's just an idea. And there's your dope--"

"And on the night of the murder?" questioned Carroll. "Where were they?"

"Mrs. Lawrence was at home. Lawrence--if you're thinking of him in
connection with it--seems to have an iron-clad alibi. He went to
Nashville on a business trip and didn't get back until the
following morning."

"Alibi, eh?" Carroll's eyes narrowed speculatively, "are you _sure_ he
was in Nashville all that time?"

"Hm-m!" Leverage shook his head. "I don't know--but I can find out."

Carroll rose. "Do it please. And get the dope straight."

Carroll went to his apartment where he reluctantly commenced dressing for
the ordeal of the night. He felt himself rather ridiculous--a man of his
age calling on a girl not yet out of high school. The thing was funny--of
course--but just at the moment the joke was too entirely on him for the
full measure of amusement.

At