defiantly.

Mr. Snyder started. "_You_ have?"

"Yes."

"What is it?"

"You will know before tomorrow. In the meantime try and think it out
for yourself. A successful and prosperous detective agency like yours,
Mr. Snyder, ought to do something in return for a fee."

There was something in her manner so reminiscent of the school teacher
reprimanding a recalcitrant pupil that Mr. Snyder's sense of humor came
to his rescue. "We do our best, Mrs. Pickett," he said. "But you
mustn't forget that we are only human and cannot guarantee results."

Mrs. Pickett did not pursue the subject. Instead, she proceeded to
astonish Mr. Snyder by asking him to swear out a warrant for the arrest
of a man known to them both on a charge of murder.

Mr. Snyder's breath was not often taken away in his own office. As a
rule, he received his clients' communications calmly, strange as they
often were. But at her words he gasped. The thought crossed his mind
that Mrs. Pickett might well be mentally unbalanced. The details of the
case were fresh in his memory, and he distinctly recollected that the
person she mentioned had been away from the boarding house on the night
of Captain Gunner's death, and could, he imagined, produce witnesses to
prove it.