command.

"Oh, it's you, is it?" said the Wolf slowly, covering his fangs.

It flashed on me that the attack in the Borton den was of his planning,
that Terrill was his tool, and that he had supposed me dead. It was
thus that I could account for his startled gaze and evident
discomposure.

"Nine o'clock was the time, you said," I suggested deferentially. "I
believe it's a minute or two past."

"Oh, yes," said Doddridge Knapp, pulling himself together. "Come in
here."

He looked suspiciously at me as he took a seat at his desk, and
motioned me to another.

"I had a little turn," he said, eying me nervously; "a vertigo, I
believe the doctor called it. Just reach my overcoat pocket there, will
you?--the left-hand side. Yes, bring me that flask."

He poured out a small glass of liquor, and the rich odor of brandy rose
through the room. Then he took a vial from an inside pocket, counted a
few drops into the glass, and drank it at a swallow.

I marveled at the actions of the man, and wondered if he was nerving
himself to some deed that he lacked courage to perform.

When he had cleared his throat of the fiery liquor, the Wolf turned to