ciple?"

"You see, Senator, I may have to arrest you, and I never eat with any
man with whom I may clash professionally."

"You take risks, Mr. Clancy."

"I love 'em. I'd cut my job to-day if it wasn't for the occasional
excitement."

The valet appeared.

"Coffee and rolls for two, Phillips," said Meiklejohn. He turned to
Clancy. "Perhaps you would prefer toast and an egg?"

"I have breakfasted already, Senator," smiled the detective, "but I may
dally with the coffee."

When the door was closed on Phillips, his master glanced at a clock on
the mantelpiece. The hour was eight-fifteen. Some days elapsed before
Clancy interpreted that incident correctly.

"You rose early," said the Senator.

"Yes, but worms are coy this morning."

"Meaning that you still await answers to your questions. I'll deal with
you fully and frankly, but I'm curious to know on what conceivable
ground you could arrest me for the murder of my friend Ronald Tower."

"As an accessory before the act."

"But, consider. You have brains, Mr. Clancy. I am glad the Bureau sent
such a man. How can a bit of unthinking generosity on my part be
construed as participation in a crime?"

"If you explain matters, Senator, the absurdity of the notion may become
clear."

"Ah, that's better. Let me assure you that my coffee will not affect
your fine sensibilities. Miss Rachel Craik is a lady I have known nearly
all my life. I have assisted her, within my means. She resides in East
One Hundred and Twelfth Street, and the man about whom she was so
concerned last night is her brother. He committed some technical offense
years ago, and has always been a ne'er-do-well. To please his sister,
and for no other reason, I undertook to provide him with five hundred
dollars, and thus enable him to start life anew. I have never met the
man. I would not recognize him if I saw him. I believe he is a desperate
character; his maniacal behavior last night seems to leave no room for
doubt in that respect. Don't you see, Mr. Clancy, that it was I, and not
poor Tower, whom he meant attacking? But for idle chance, it is my
corpse, not Tower's, that would now be floating in the Hudson. You heard
what Tower said. I did not. I assume, however, that some allusion was
made to the money--which, by the way, is still in my pocketbook--and
Tower scoffed at the notion that he had come there to hand over five
hundred dollars. There you have the whole story, in so far as I can tell
it