The League of Frightened Men

"The plea of my need, my very real need, and your indifference."

"You are wrong there, Mr. Chapin. I need it too." | "No. It is you who are wrong. It is valueless to you."

"But, my dear sir." Wolfe wiggled a finger. "If I permit you to be the judge of your own needs you must grant me the same privilege. What other plea?"

"None. I tell you, I will take it in pity."

"Not from me. Mr. Chapin. Let us not keep from our tongues what is in our minds. There is one plea you could make that would be effective. – Wait, hear me.

I know that you are not prepared to make it, not yet, and I am not prepared to ask for it. Your box is being kept in a safe place, intact. I need it here in order to be sure that you will come to see me whenever I am ready for you. I am not yet ready. When the time comes, it will not be merely my possession of your box that will persuade you to give me what I want and intend to get. I am preparing for you. You said you have acquired a new and active antipathy to death. Then you should prepare for me: for the best I shall be able to offer you, the day you come for your box, will be your choice between two deaths. I shall leave that, for the moment, as cryptic as it sounds; you may understand me, but you certainly will not try to anticipate me. – Archie. In order that Mr. Chapin may not suspect us of gullery, bring the box please."

I went and unlocked the cabinet and got the box from the shelf, and took it and put it down on Wolfe's desk. I hadn't looked at it since Wednesday and had forgotten how swell it was; it certainly was a pip. I put it down with care. The cripple's eyes were on me, I thought, rather than on the box, and I had a notion of how pleased he probably was to see me handling it. For nothing but pure damn meanness I rubbed my hand back and forth along the top of it. Wolfe told me to sit down.

Chapin's hands were grasping the arms of his chair, as if to lift himself up. He said, "May I open it?"

"No."

J He got to his feet, disregarding his stick, leaning on a hand on the desk. "I'll Just… lift it."

"No. I'm sorry, Mr. Chapin. You won't touch it."