tionally fine of you to let Thompson destroy those
things."

"I would want someone to do as much for me," he answered, "that is, if I
ever had the nerve to do what you did. That was the fine thing, doctor."

And Garth went away, aware that he had made a staunch friend.

The inspector was troubled when he heard of Slim and George's open
hatred. He saw the district attorney, and others whose ears he had. On
his return he sent for Garth.

"The district attorney tells me," he said, "that there isn't a loophole.
They'll be convicted and go to the chair as certain as that when the
moon shines lovers kiss. If they don't escape. Without suggesting that
every crook doesn't get the same attention, I've seen to it that those
chair warmers will be watched closer than Fido watches the butcher."

So again Garth put the matter out of his mind, and was aided by an
unexpected threat, apparently just as serious, that faced him a very
short time after.

On that fall morning he paused on the threshold of the inspector's
office, and, surprised and curious, glanced quickly within. It was not
so much that Nora sat by the window, clothed in her habitual black, nor
was his interest quickened by the fact that she knitted deftly on some
heavy, gray garment. Rather his concern centered on the inspector who
had left his desk and whose corpulent, lethargic figure moved about the
room with an exceptional and eccentric animation.

At Garth's step Nora glanced up, smiling. The inspector retarded his
heated walk. To ease the perceptible strain Garth spoke to Nora.

"Seems to me you knit no matter where you are."

"When one knits for the hospitals," she answered, "any place will do. I
had hoped my example might quiet father. I only dropped in for a chat,
and look at him. What a welcome! I'm afraid, Jim, he has something
disagreeable for you."

The inspector paused and sat on the edge of his desk.

"Maybe so. Maybe not," he rumbled. "I don't like working through the
dark, so I don't like to ask anybody else to do it. I've got to, though.
Cheer up, Garth. I'm asking you."

He raised his paper cutter and jabbed at the desk with a massive
petulance.

"Ever since I got down this morning," he went on, "I've been hounded by
telegrams and long-distance calls. Well? Do you want a holiday? It's apt
to be a hell of a holiday. Excuse me, Nora."

"I see," Garth said. "Something out of town."

The inspector's manner warned him. After long experience