maybe it had
once. There was no way to tell for sure.

He went back to the bar to think things over and figure out his next
move. A bourbon-and-soda while thinking seemed the obvious order, and
Ray bustled off to get it.

* * * * *

Had he left the notebook on the street somewhere, just dropping it by
accident? Malone couldn't quite see that happening. It was, of course,
possible--but the possibility was so remote that he decided to try and
think of everything else first. There was Dorothy, for instance.

Was it possible that she might have the book?

It was. But, if so, how had she got it?

Malone enumerated possibilities on his fingers. First, he could have
dropped it or something like that, and she could have picked it up. But
dropping the notebook was a chance he'd eliminated already. It just
didn't sound likely.

Besides, if he were going to work on the dropping hypothesis, he might
as well start from anywhere, on the assumption that he had dropped it
anywhere on the street.

But if he _had_ dropped it--second finger--and Dorothy had picked it
up, wouldn't she have given it back?

She would have, Malone decided, unless she actually intended to steal
it.

And if she had intended to steal it, she could just as easily have
lifted it out of his pocket in the first place. She didn't need to wait
for it to fall out conveniently, all by itself.

Third finger: why would she steal the notebook? What good was it to her?
And how did she even know he had it?

None of those questions seemed to have any answers. Of course, if she'd
been connected with the Silent Spooks in some way, it would explain a
little--but somehow Malone couldn't see Dorothy as a Silent Spook.

Malone stared at his ring finger and pinky. He pressed the ring finger
down, thinking that perhaps Dorothy had picked the notebook up and just
forgotten to give it back. That was possible, even if not likely.

Only it required that notebook dropping out again.

The pinky went down. She might be some sort of a kleptomaniac, Malone
thought.

That didn't look very probable.

No, Malone decided, realizing that he had no more fingers left, it was
impossible to shake off the feeling that the girl had deliberately taken
the book for some definite purpose of her own.

He decided to give her a call.

He took the drink from Ray and slid off the bar stool. Two steps away he
remembered one more little fact.

He didn't ha