"Which one was it?" he asked.

"Oh it's not here, sir," Walters replied. "The coroner took it away with
him."

"And hasn't returned it yet? Well, he has no business keeping it. It's
part of the collection, and belongs to the estate."

"Yes, sir. If I may say so, I thought it was a bit high-handed of him,
taking it away, myself, but it wasn't my place to say anything about it."

"Well, I'll make it mine. If that revolver's what I'm told it is, it's
too valuable to let some damned county-seat politician walk off with." A
thought occurred to him. "And if I find that he's disposed of it, this
county's going to need a new coroner, at least till the present incumbent
gets out of jail."

The buzzer of the extension phone went off like an annoyed rattlesnake.
Walters scooped it up, spoke into it, listened for a moment, and handed
it to Rand.

"For you, sir; Mrs. Fleming."

"Colonel Rand, Carl Gwinnett, the commission-dealer I told you about is
here," Gladys told him. "Do you want to talk to him?"

"Why, yes. Do I understand, now, that you and the other ladies want cash,
and don't want the collection peddled off piecemeal?... All right, send
him up. I'll talk to him."