Embarrassed and confused, Jimmie Dale drew back, glanced around, and
smiled again a little sheepishly as his eyes rested on the red-flushed
jowl of the inspector.

"I--I wanted to see how it was stuck on," he explained inanely.

"Stuck on!" bellowed Clayton. "I'll show you how it's STUCK on, if you
monkey around here! Don't you know any better than that! Where were you
dragged up anyway? The coroner hasn't been here yet. You're a hot cub
of a reporter, you are!" He turned to Carruthers. "Y'ought to get out
printed instructions for 'em before you turn 'em loose!" he snapped.

Carruthers' face was red with mortification. There was a grin, expanded,
on the faces of the others.

"Stand away from that bed!" roared Clayton at Jimmie Dale. "And if you
go near it again, I'll throw you out of here bodily!"

Jimmie Dale edged away, and, eyes lowered, fumbled nervously with the
leaves of his notebook.

Clayton grunted, glared at Jimmie Dale for an instant viciously--and
resumed his story.

"I was saying," he said, "that Metzer was to come to headquarters at
eight o'clock this evening. Well, he didn't show up. That looked queer.
It was mighty important business. We was after one of the biggest hauls
we'd ever pulled off. I waited till nine o'clock, an hour ago, and I
was getting nervous. Then I started over here to find out what was the
matter. When I got here I asked Moriarty if he'd seen Metzer. Moriarty