her. But I can't think.... It's horrible to have to suspect
either of them." For a moment, he stared unseeingly at the litter of
high-priced pistols on the desk. Then:

"Colonel Rand, Lane Fleming is dead, and nothing either of us can do
will bring him back. To expose his murderer certainly won't. But it
would cause a scandal that would rock the Premix Company to its very
foundations. It might even disastrously affect the market as a whole."

"Oh, come!" Rand reproved. "That's like talking about starting a
hurricane with a palm-leaf fan."

"But you will admit that it would have a dreadful effect on Premix
Foods," Goode argued. "It would probably prevent this merger from being
consummated. Look here," he said urgently. "I don't know how much Gladys
Fleming is paying you to rake all this up, but I'll gladly double her fee
if you drop it and confine yourself to the matter of the collection."

Even in his colossal avarice, that was one kind of money Jeff Rand had
never been tempted to take. An offer of that sort invariably made him
furious. At the moment, he managed to choke down his anger, but he
rejected Goode's offer in a manner which left no room for further
discussion. Goode rose, shaking his head sadly.

"I suppose you realize," he said, sorrowfully, "that you're wrecking
a ten-million-dollar corporation. One in which you, yourself, are a
stockholder."

Rand brightened. "And the biggest wrecking jobs I ever did before were a
couple of petrol dumps and a railroad bridge." He got to his feet along
with the lawyer. "No need to call the butler; I'll let you out myself."

He accompanied Goode down the front stairway to the door. Goode was still
gloomy.

"I made a mistake in trying to bribe you," he said. "But can't I appeal
to your sense of fairness? Do you want to inflict serious losses on
innocent investors merely to avenge one crime?"

"I don't approve of murder," Rand told him. "Least of all, to paraphrase
Clausewitz, as an extension of business by other means. You know, if we
let Lane Fleming's killer get away with it, somebody might take that as a
precedent and bump you off to win a lawsuit, sometime. Ever think of
that?"

When he returned to the gunroom, he found Gladys Fleming occupying the
chair lately vacated by the family attorney. She blew a smoke-ring at him
in greeting as he entered.

"Now what was Hump Goode up to?" she wanted to know.

"I'm taking too much on myself," Rand evaded. "Maybe I sho