to the front room, and he kicked out a chair so as to
bring my face to the windows. As I sank into it I noticed a dusty
mirror opposite which gave me a dim reflection of the entire room.
Coombs shut the door leading to the back of the house, and sat down
facing me, his big hands on his knees. His effort to look pleasant
only made him appear uglier than usual.

"Wal, go on!" he said gruffly.

I crossed my legs comfortably, and leaned back in the chair, quite
conscious of thus adding to his irritation. If I could only anger the
fellow sufficiently he might blurt out something of value. Anyhow, my
best card was cool indifference.

"There is not much to say," I replied deliberately. "I 'll answer your
questions so far as I think best, and then I 'll ask a few of you. The
lady upstairs is Viola Henley, the wife of Philip Henley. She has come
down here to take legal possession of this property. That is the
situation in a nutshell. I am merely accompanying her to make sure
that she gets a square deal."

His jaw sagged, and his eyes wandered.

"Oh, hell," he managed to articulate. "What is your real game?"

"Exactly as I have stated it, Coombs. To the best of my knowledge
Philip Henley is dead--at least he has disappeared--and his widow is
the rightful heir to this estate."

"Wal, I reckon he ain't dead--not by a jugful."

I felt the hot blood pump in my veins. Did the man know this to be
true, or was he merely making the claim for effect?

"That, of course, remains to be proven," I returned smilingly.

"Oh, does it, now! So does this yer wife business, to my thinkin'.
Wal, it won't take long ter settle the matter, believe me. Who are you
enyhow?"

"My name is Craig--Gordon Craig."

"A lawyer?"

"Not guilty."

"A damn detective?"

"Same plea."

I thought he gave a grunt of relief; anyhow there was more assurance in
his manner, a fresh assumption of bullying in his voice.

"All right, then; I reckon I got yer number, Craig. Yer after a little
easy money. Somehow yer caught onto the mix-up down yere, an' framed
up a scheme to cop the coin. Might hav' worked too if I had n't been
on the job, an' posted. Damn nice-lookin' girl yer picked up--"

"Drop that, Coombs!" I interrupted sharply, leaning forward and staring
him in the eyes. "Let loose all you care to about me, but cut out the
woman!"

"Oh, too nice, hey!"

"Yes, too nice for you to befoul even with your tongue. If you mention