rom your
interest, sir--"

"Indeed! Thank you, Steiner--thank you very much!" Varr was never
more disagreeable than on the rare occasions when he chose to be
studiously polite. "In return, let me suggest something that has to do
with your own best interests. You are employed here to preserve law
and order and this is decidedly a matter for your official
attention--unless, indeed, you are thinking of resigning from the force
on the chance that I may offer you a position as confidential adviser
to myself. Eh?"

Cold gray eyes held and mastered pale blue ones. There was a brief
silence--a silence that lasted just long enough for Steiner to reflect
that he owed his job to the Board of Selectmen and that the Selectmen
pretty much owed theirs to Simon Varr. Then he cleared his throat
nervously.

"Of course, you know best, sir. I'll act at once."

"Let me know when I'm to appear in the police court."

"Yes, sir. Is that all you want of me, sir?"

Varr did not answer, but there was dismissal in the abrupt way that he
swivelled around to his desk and bent his head over his neglected
correspondence.

_II: The Head of the Trail_

The sound of the chief's subdued steps--in departing even his feet
contrived to appear deferential--had barely died away when it was
replaced by the noise of other and more determined ones ascending the
stairs. The creaking of the ancient floor-boards heralded the approach
of Jason Bolt, the junior partner, who passed by his own private office
and entered Varr's.

He was a short, rotund little man of forty-five, smooth-shaven,
somewhat sandy in complexion, with twinkling eyes that were friendly,
and a light thatch of pinkish hair which was noticeably thinning on the
top of his head. There was a general air of cheerfulness and content
about him and his mouth, that was inclined to twitch at the corners,
seemed continually on the point of smiling. In truth, the fairy
godmother of Jason had presented him at birth with one of her choicest
gifts, a sense of humor, and it had seldom failed him since. Beyond
any possible doubt--as he had more than once pointed out to his wife
Mary--he owed to this fine characteristic the fact that he had
preserved his sanity of mind and body despite the twenty years of
intimate association with his grim, self-centered partner.

He plopped down on a chair with a puffing sound of relief. He was
panting a bit from the stairs, and his forehead was be