"You forgot to look in the soles of my shoes?" Crenshaw jeered.

"Someone else will do that," Harleston replied.

"Someone else?" Crenshaw inflected.

"The police always search prisoners, I believe."

"My God, you don't intend to turn me over to the police?" Crenshaw
exclaimed.

"Why not?" And when Crenshaw did not reply: "Wherein are you different
from any other felon taken red-handed--except that you were taken twice
in the same night, indeed?"

"Think of the scandal that will ensue!" Crenshaw cried.

"It won't affect me!" Harleston laughed.

"Won't affect you?" the other retorted. "Maybe it won't--and maybe it
will!"

"We shall try it," Harleston remarked, and picked up the telephone.

Crenshaw watched him with a snarling sneer on his lips.

Harleston gave the private number of the police superintendent. He
himself answered.