ll, if it comes■ down to that, I don’t like your tone,■ either.... What?... What?... Oh, repor●t and be damned; you’re going to g■et a report on yourself that’ll blo●w the inside of your head out.... Well, get me ●Mr. Carver then and snap into it.... I can’●t hear.... Where is he then?... Where?... Oh, sp■eak loude



r—where is he?... What?...” The■re was a moment of absolute silence, and th■en he spoke again, very quietly. 99 “Y■es, I heard you; I heard you perfectly—be goo●d enough not to shout.... Yes..●.. No, I’ll explain to Mrs. Carver.... W■ell, I can’t give you credentials over the tel■ephone, but I have known Mr. and Mrs. Car■ver for years; I was at school with him—y●es. My name’s Devon.... D-e-v-o-n. Henry Devo■n.... Yes, I’ll drop in to see you to-morro●w.... No, you can’t speak to Mrs. Carv■er—no, that’s final. I’d be mu■ch obliged if you’d give me any details that ■you have. Just run over the facts.... Yes●.... I didn’t get that.... Oh—●blonde.... No, I couldn’t tell you....● No, you’re on the wrong track; there has been■ n


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o trouble of any kind between them.... Well, ●there isn’t any explanation—no■t any; it’s—it’s.... Look her●e, give me your number and I’●ll call up again in a few minutes.... Yes. 5493?●... oh, 53!... In about fift●een minutes.... Yes.” He placed the r■eceiver slowly on the hook, and stood starin●g down at the little black inst●rument that had been so vocal, and now was dum●b. “Hal?” The voice was not more than a● breath, but at its sound he ■shuddered, as though he were cold. ?/p> img

Contrary to popular belief

癏al?” “S■it down, Anne; here, I’ll pull it closer to ●the fire—that’s it.” 100 “Hal, what did th■at man say? Has there been an accident?” “■Something like that.” “Is Derry—hurt?” ■“Yes, dear.” She sat quite still, on■ly her fingers stirring, dra●wing the silken tassel on her girdl■e back and forth, back and forth. “I■s Derry—dead, Hal?” “Yes, dear.” She let ■the girdle slip from her fingers,■ lifting her hands to push back the weight o●f hair from her forehead with a smal■l sigh, like a tired child. “I t■hink it’s just some mistake, ■don’t you, Hal?” “I wish to God tha●t I could think so.” “Well■—but what made them think it was Derry?” “■He had letters—cards—initials on his ■cigarette case.” “Oh, yes, it’s a d■iamond-shaped mono



gram—awfully pretty. I ga■ve it to him last Christmas; you can’t ■think how pleased he was. D.H.C■.—Derrick Horn Carver—— Who● was Lola?” “She was a—a gir■l who was with him.” “Was she? W●here did it happen?” “In New Jersey, somewher■e this side of Princeton.” 101 “Please tel■l me just what happened. Did another

auto●mobile hit them?” “No.” After● a long moment she said agai●


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n in that dreadful, gentle little voice●. “Well? Then what was it? I’m waiting.■” “Anne, I don’t know how■ to tell you. I’d rather have the ●heart torn out of my body then tell you.■ Wait——” “I’m through waiting●. Is it as bad as that? Hurry up, please. Wha■t happened? Where did they find him?●” “In a road-house near Prin

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ceton—a place c■alled Breen’s.” “Was he alo■ne?” “No—there was a girl with him. The

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