"
"Your clerk is quite loquacious," remarked Quincy as they slowly
mounted upward.
"What's that?"
"He has a sore tongue," said Quincy, as the elevator door was closed
behind him.
After cordial greetings on both sides, for they had not seen each
other for nearly a year, Quincy exclaimed, as he sank into a
proffered easy chair: "Mary, I am a murderer at heart."
"That is not strange, Quincy. I have read that the friends of police
officers and detectives often imbibe, or rather absorb, criminal
propensities. Who is the intended victim, and how do you expect to
escape arrest, conviction, and punishment, after incriminating
yourself by a confession to a licensed detective?"
"If I had killed your hotel clerk it would have been due to emotional
insanity, and I should expect an acquittal--and, perhaps, a
testimonial."
"I got a testimonial to-day from Mr. Isburn. He said I was a wonder."
"I agree with him."
Miss Dana flushed perceptibly.
"He had what he considered a good reason for his compliment. I am
afraid yours rests on unsupported grounds."
"Not at all. Have I not known you since you were a child? Can he say
as much? Did I not work with you on Bob Wood's case? The help yon
were to me in trying to solve the mystery of the return of my
father's bill of exchange I will never forget," and for a long time
Quincy and Mary talked over the miraculous return of his father.
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