care that you don't get it," snarled
the other.

"Nonsense!" laughed Coquenil. "You're a good soldier, Gibelin; you like to
kick and growl, but you do your work. Tell you what I'll do as soon as I'm
put in charge of this case. Want to know what I'll do?"

"Well?"

"I'll have to set you to work on it. Ha, ha! Upon my soul, I will."

"You'd better look out," menaced the red-haired man with an ugly look, "or
I'll do some work on this case you'll wish I hadn't done." With this he
flung himself out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

"What did he mean by that?" muttered M. Paul, and he sat silent, lost in
thought, until the others returned. In a glance, he read the answer in
their faces.

"It's all right," said the chief.

"Congratulations, old friend," beamed Pougeot, squeezing Coquenil's hand.

"The _prefet_ was extremely nice," added M. Hauteville; "he took our view
at once."

"Then my commission is signed?"

"Precisely," answered the chief; "you are one of us again, and--I'm glad."

"Thank you, both of you," said M. Paul with a quiver of emotion.

"I give you full charge of this case," went on M. Simon, "and I will see
that you have every possible assistance. I expect you to be on deck
to-morrow morning."

Coquenil hesitated a moment and then, with a flash of his tireless energy,
he said: "If it's all the same to you, chief, I'll go on deck
to-night--now."

CHAPTER VI

THE WEAPON

Right across from the Ansonia on the Rue Marboeuf was a little wine shop
that remained open all night for the accommodation of cab drivers and
belated pedestrians and to this Coquenil and the commissary now withdrew.
Before anything else the detective wished to get from M. Pougeot his
impressions of the case. And he asked Papa Tignol to come with them for a
fortifying glass.

"By the way," said the commissary to Tignol when they were seated in the
back room, "did you find out how that woman left the hotel without her
wraps and without being seen?"

The old man nodded. "When she came out of the telephone booth she slipped
on a long black rain coat that was hanging there. It belonged to the
telephone girl and it's missing. The rain coat had a hood to it which the
woman pulled over her head. Then she walked out quietly and no one paid any
attention to her."

"Good work, Papa Tignol," approved Coquenil.

"It's you, M. Paul, who have done good work this night," chuckled Tignol.
"Eh! Eh! What a lesson for Gi