The League of Frightened Men

"You follow me. I assure you that the necessity I have just described is my constant concern when we are engaged in an enterprise. When you suspect me of neglect you are in a sense justified, for I do ignore great quantities of facts and impingements which might seem to another intelligence – let it go without characterization – to be of importance to our undertaking. But I should consider myself an inferior workman if I ignored a fact which the event proved actually to have significance. That is why I wish to make this apology to myself, thus publicly, in your hearing."

I nodded. "I'm still hanging on.

Apology for what?" '

"For bad workmanship. It may prove not to have been disastrous, it may even turn out of no importance whatever. But sitting here this afternoon contemplating my glories and sifting out the sins, it occurred to me, and I need to ask you about it. You may remember that on Wednesday evening, sixty-five hours ago, i i ' you were describing for me the contents of ( Inspector Cramer's bean." • I grinned. "Yeah."

"You told me that it was his belief that Dr. Elkus was having Mr. Chapin •shadowed."

"Yep."

"And then you started a sentence; I think you said, But one of those clicks – Something approximating that. I was impatient, and I stopped you. I should not ' have done so. My impulsive reaction to •what I knew to be nonsense betrayed me into an error. I should have let you finish.

Pray do so now." • I nodded. "Yeah, I remember. But since you've dumped the Dreyer thing into the ash can, what does it matter whether Elkus -"

"Archie. Confound it, I care nothing about Elkus; what I want is your sentence about a dick. What dick? Where is he?"

"Didn't I say? Tailing Paul Chapin."

"One of Mr. Cramer's men."

I shook my head. "Cramer has a man there too. And we've got Durkin and Gore and Keems, eight-hour shifts. This bird's an extra. Cramer wondered who was paying him and had him in for a conference, but he's tough, he never says anything but cuss words. I thought maybe he was Bascom's, but no."

"Have you seen him?"

"Yeah, I went down there. He was eating soup, and he's like you about meals, business is out. I waited on him a little, carried his bread and butter and so on, and came on home."

"Describe him."

"Well… he hasn't much to offer to the eye. He weighs a hundred and thirty-five, five feet seven. Brown cap and pink necktie. A cat scratched him on the cheek and he didn't clean it up very well.