so?"

"Yes. That is--the department is a bit crowded. He--er--asked me--Well,
we reckoned we could do without her."

"I see. Go on."

"So I just came up-town, meanin' to talk things over, an' find her a new
job, but she took it all wrong."

Clancy whirled around on Carshaw. Evidently he had heard enough from
Fowle.

"And you?" he snapped.

"I know nothing of either party," was the calm answer. "I couldn't help
overhearing this fellow insulting a lady, so put him where he
belongs--in the gutter."

"Mr. Clancy," interrupted the sergeant, "you're wanted on the phone."

The detective was detained a good five minutes. When he returned he
walked straight up to Fowle.

"Quit!" he said, with a scornful and sidelong jerk of the head. "You got
what you wanted. Get out, and leave Miss Bartlett alone in the future."

Fowle needed no second bidding.

"As for me?" inquired Carshaw, with arched eyebrows.

"May I drop you in Madison Avenue?" said Clancy. Once the police car was
speeding down-town he grew chatty.

"Wish I had seen you trimming Fowle," he said pleasantly. "I've a notion
he had a finger in the pie of Winifred Bartlett's dismissal."

"It may be."

Carshaw's tone was indifferent. Just then he was aware only of a very
definite resentment. His mother would be waiting for dinner, and
alarmed, like all mothers who own motoring sons. The detective looked
surprised, but made his point, for all that.

"I suppose you'll be meeting that very charming young lady again one of
these days," he said.

"I? Why? Most unlikely."

"Not so. Do you floor every man you see annoying a woman in the
streets?"

"Well--er--"

"Just so. Winifred interested you. She interests me. I mean to keep an
eye on her, a friendly eye. If you and she come together again, let me
know."

"Really--"

"No wonder you are ready with a punch. You won't let a man speak.
Listen, now. The patrolman held you and Fowle because he had orders to
arrest, on any pretext or none, any one who seemed to have the remotest
connection with the house in One Hundred and Twelfth Street, where
Winifred Bartlett lives with her aunt. You've read of the Yacht Mystery
and the lassoing of Ronald Tower?"

"Mr. and Mrs. Ronald Tower are my close friends."

"Exactly. Now, Rachel Craik, Winifred's aunt, was released from custody
an hour ago. She would have been charged with complicity in the supposed
murder of Tower. I say 'supposed' because there was no murder.