bravado, had baffled me. I began to feel that even if he had lost
the detectaphone record, his was the nature to carry out the bluff
of still having it, in much the same manner that he would have
played the market on a shoestring or made the most of an unfilled
four-card flush in a game of poker.

Kennedy was far from being discouraged, however. Indeed, it seemed
as if he really enjoyed matching his wit against the subtlety of a
man like Langhorne, even more than against one the type of Dorgan
and Murtha.

"I want to see Carton and I don't want to carry these bundles all
over the city," he remarked, changing the subject for the moment,
as he turned into a public pay station. "I'll ring him up and have
him meet us at the laboratory, if I can."

A moment later he emerged, excited, perspiring from the closeness
of the telephone booth.

"Carton has some news--a letter--that's all he would say," he
exclaimed. "He'll meet us at the laboratory."

We hastily resumed our uptown journey.

"What do you think it is?" I asked. "About Betty Blackwell?"

Kennedy shook his head non-committally. "I don't know. But he has
some of his county detectives watching Dorgan and Murtha in that
Black Book case, I know. They are worried. It doesn't look as
though they, at least, had the record--that is, if Langhorne has