detective. What I want to know is how my man
felt at the time the crime was committed--not where he was; and how he
feels now about the whole thing."

"But the facts themselves are important," argued the practical chief
of police.

"Granted! But when you have facts, you don't need a detective. I'd rather
have a suspect talk freely and never tell the truth than have him be
reticent and stick to a true story."

Leverage's reply had been expressive of his opinion of Carroll's almost
uncanny ability.

"Sounds like damned nonsense," said he; "but it's never failed you yet.
And even you couldn't get away with it if you lost that smile of yours!"

Right now he was witnessing the magic of Carroll's smile. He had seen the
antagonism slowly melt from Barker's manner. The nervousness was still
there, true; but it seemed tinged with an attitude which was part
friendliness toward Carroll and part contempt for his powers. That, too,
was an old story to Leverage. More than one criminal had tripped over the
snag of underrating Carroll's ability.

Barker's last statement--"Warren, he was a bird with the women!"--was
true. Leverage knew it was true. Carroll knew it was true. There was the
ring of truth about it. It mattered not whether Barker had an iron of his
own in the fire--it mattered not what else he said which was not
true--the two detectives knew that they had extracted from him a fact,
the relative importance of which would be established later.

Just at present, knowledge that the dead man had been somewhat of a
philanderer seemed of considerable importance. For one thing, it
established the theory that he had been planning an elopement with the
woman in the taxicab. That being the case, a definite task was
faced--first, find the woman; then find some man vitally affected by her
elopement with Warren.

Carroll betrayed no particular interest in Barker's statement. Instead,
he smiled genially, a sort of between-us-men smile, which did much to
disarm Barker.

"A regular devil with 'em, eh, Barker?"

"You spoke a mouthful that time, Mr. Carroll! What he didn't know about
women their own husbands couldn't tell him."

"Married ones?"

"Oh, sure! He was a specialist with them."

"Then most of this gossip we've been hearing has a basis of fact?"

A momentary return of caution showed in Barker's retort.

"I don't know just what you've been hearin'."

"A good many stories about his love affairs--with women who were