come back!"

"Never mind his whereabouts."

The man looked at Steele closer. "Blame, if there isn't something about
you that puzzles me," he said.

"What?" laconically.

The fellow shook his head. "And so he's hired you?"

"Not exactly. Although I may say I represent him."

"Well, he got a good one. You know how to use your fists, Mister."

"Better than this 'Frisco Pet did once, eh, Tom?" The man frowned. "But
to return to the subject in hand. That question you seemed afraid to
answer just now was superfluous; I know where you were the night the
woman was shot."

"You do?"

"Yes; you were--" John Steele leaned forward and said something softly.

"How'd you find that out?" asked the man.

"The 'Frisco Pet knew where you were all the time; but did not speak,
because he did not wish to get you into trouble. Also, because he did
not know, then, what he long afterward learned,--indirectly!--that you
could have cleared him!"