The Rubber Band

"Satisfactory evidence?" Wolfe nodded. "I'll abandon it for nothing."

"Oh, I'll pay a thousand. I understand the Lindquists are hard up. The evidence will be satisfactory, and you can see it tomorrow morning."

"I'd rather see it today."

"You can't. I haven't got it. It will arrive this evening on the Berengana. My dispatch bag will reach me tonight, but I shall be engaged. Come to my hotel any time after nine in the morning."

"I don't go out. I am busy from nine to eleven. You can bring your evidence here any time after eleven."

"The devil I can." Clivers stared at him, and suddenly laughed his three blasts again. Haw-haw-haw. He turned it off. "You can come to my hotel. You don't look infirm."

Wolfe said patiently, "If you don't bring it here, or send it, I won't get to see it and I'll have to press the claim for the horse. And by the way, how does it happen to be coming on the Berengaria?"

"Because I sent for it. Monday of last week, eight days ago, a woman saw me. She got in to me through my nephew- it seems they had met socially. She represented herself as the daughter of Gil Fox and made demands. I wouldn't discuss it with her. I thought it was straight blackmail and I would freeze her out. She was too damned good-looking to be honest. But I thought it worthwhile to cable to London for these items from my private papers, in case of developments. They'll be here tonight."

***our fee. Finally Wolfe's eyelids raised enough to permit the conjecture that he was conscious..

"It would have saved a lot of trouble," he murmured, "if they had hanged you in 1895. Isn't that so? As it stands. Lord Clivers, I wish to assure you again of my complete good faith in this matter, and I suggest that we postpone commitments until your evidence of payment has been examined. Tomorrow, then." He looked at me. "Confound you, Archie. I have you to thank for this acarpous entanglement."

It was a new one, but I got the idea. He meant that he had drawn his sword in defense of Clara Fox because I had told him that she was the ideal of my dreams. I suppose it was me that sat and recited Hungarian poetry to her.

XIII

WHEN Wolfe came down to the office from the plant rooms at six o'clock, Saul Panzer and Orrie Gather were there waiting for him. Fred Durkin, who had spent most of the afternoon in the kitchen with the cookie jar, had been sent home at five, after I had warned him to cross the street if he saw a cop.