y reached for the door knob with a gesture of disdain. Drew
wheeled and stared at him. "Wait a minute," he said softly.

The operative turned and dropped his hands to his side.

"You remember the magpie?" asked Drew.

Delaney nodded.

"Well, sit down and wait. It'll be here within five minutes. The valet
'phoned he was bringing it in a taxi. That was just before you came in."

"Taxi!" snorted the big operative, stretching himself on the leather
chair. "Them valets have got it soft. Last night was the first ride
I've had in one for months, and----"

Delaney's voice trailed to an end. He turned in the chair and saw
Harrigan's red face and auburn hair come slowly through the aperture
made by opening the door.

"Well?" snapped Drew.

"There's a funny lookin' guy out here, chief," said the
assistant-manager. "He wants to see you in person. He's got
knee-britches and a bunch of brass-buttons on his monkey-jacket. Says
he's a valet."

"Has he got anything with him?" asked Drew.

"He has, Chief! He's got a gilded cage with the damnedest looking bird
in it I ever saw. It ain't a parrot and it ain't a crow. It's a
blue-jay or something like that!"

"Show him in!" Drew said. "Show him in. You can wait, Delaney!"

CHAPTER NINE

"MEN AND MOTIVES"

The two detectives leaned back in their respective chairs and eyed each
other. Both swung and stared out of the window at the swirling snow
which salted across the window in an unending curtain of white. Both
returned to the locked stare so common to men who have worked together
in danger and know each other's merits.

Delaney's eyes dropped first. He studied the rug beneath Drew's
polished shoes. He coughed behind his hand, and turned with a shrug of
his shoulders. He fastened upon the closed door a glance of expectancy
which brought a smile to the chief's lips.

"Things are picking up," said Drew, with a short laugh. "Your
friend--the bird--has arrived."

"My friend?" blurted the big operative. "It's no friend of mine! I'd
wring its neck, gladly."

"It may be the key to the whole thing. Smarter men than the ones we are
fighting have fallen through less. You remember Eddy, The Brute, who
left his umbrella after him in the Homesdale Murder Mystery. Funny,
wasn't it? Took three months to plan the murder and left his rain-stick
behind. His initials were on it."

"They can't get away----" started Delaney.

"Here's your bird!" announced Drew, as a knock sound