The League of Frightened Men

His eyes opened at me. "Archie. You are trying the cryptic approach again. To what this time?" "No, sir. This is on the level. You just forgot that Miss Evelyn Hibbard is my client. I went to see her Saturday at your suggestion; you couldn't take her on because you had other plans in mind.

Remember, sir? So of course any arrangement she might make in this connection could only be with my advice and consent." w Wolfe was keeping his eyes open.

He murmured, "Preposterous. Puerile trickery. You would not attempt to maintain that position."

I sighed, as much like one of his sighs as I could make it. ‹I hate to, sir. I really do. But it's the only honest thing I can do, protect my client. Of course you understand the ethics of it, I don't have to explain -"

He cut me off. "No. I would suggest that you refrain from explaining. How much would you advise your client to pay?"

"One thousand bucks." n

"Absurd. In view of her original offer-"

"All right. I won't haggle. I'll split the difference with you. Two thousand. I stick there. I'm glued." j Wolfe shut his eyes. "Done, confound you. Enter it. – Now take your notebook. Tomorrow morning…" u.'

9

Wednesday morning pretty early I was sitting in the kitchen, with the Times propped up in front of me but not really seeing it because I was busy in my mind mapping out the day, getting on towards the bottom of my second cup of coffee, when Fritz returned from a trip to the front door to say that Fred Durkin wanted to see me. One thing I hate to be disturbed at is my last two healthy swallows of morning coffee, so I nodded and took my time. When I got to the office Fred was sitting there scowling at his hat on the floor, where it had landed when he had tried to toss it so it would hook on the back of my chair. He always missed. I picked it up and handed it to him and said:

"A dollar even you can^t do it once out of ten tries."

He shook his big Irish bean. "No time.

I'm a workingman. I was just waiting for you to pick your teeth. Can I see Wolfe?"

"You know damn well you can't. Up to eleven o9 clock Mr. Nero Wolfe is a horticulturist."

"Uh-huh. This is special."

"Not special enough for that. Spill it to the Chief of Staff. Has the lop put dust in your eyes? Why aren't you on his tail?"