?"

"Small--about six!"

"All right, Chief, I'm off."

"Walt a minute." Drew studied a sheet of paper. "After you get the
temperature data, Delaney," he said. "After you get that and the
plaster casts of the footprints, go into the house and stay there.
Watch Miss Loris. Don't talk to Fosdick's men. Tell her to be careful.
Tell her that she is in grave danger. Remember that the same man who
threatened Stockbridge over the wire, also said he was going to get
her. Remember that, Delaney!"

"Good-by!"

"Get a shave!" shot Drew out through the closing doorway.

"I'll do that little thing," came echoing back with a hearty chuckle.

"Now, Harrigan," Drew said, shuffling the slips of paper like a deck of
cards. "Now, we're closing in on our man or men. See if you can find
Frick at the prison. 'Phone from the booth!"

Harrigan was back within three minutes. He leaned over Drew.

"Frick was with the warden," he whispered tersely. "He was easy to get.
He says that Morphy has been trying to telephone----"

"What?"

"Tryin' to telephone, Chief----"

"What has he got to do with the telephone? What right has an inmate of
a prison got to phone? Unless--unless the warden thought the case was
justified--like in sickness or important business."

"Maybe the warden allowed him, Chief. I didn't ask Frick!"

"Get out there and ask him! Quick!"

Drew waited with every muscle taut. He drummed the table with impatient
fingers. He thumbed the sheath of papers he had collected on the
Stockbridge case. He wheeled in his chair and stared out through the
frosted window with unseeing eyes. The vision came to him of a pompous
old man in prison gray, strutting about the front office with silk
socks and a Havana cigar. Drew had no sympathy with a certain kind of
convict. The misguided safeblower or house prowler might be excused for
a great many things. The pickpocket was a professional, who took his
chances as they ran. The gentleman bank-wrecker, with his overextended
tale of woe and his bid for the world's sympathies, was the one the
detective detested with all his soul. Such men, he believed, were
beyond the pale. They knew better. Morphy, for instance, had not only
gotten away with much of widow's and orphan's money, but he had wrecked
a score of homes and dragged down many with him at the final assizes.

"So he uses the phone!" Drew repeated like an indictment. "Well! Well!
Well!"

Harrigan stepped in through the door. Drew t