"Mr. Snyder, I ask you to swear out that warrant."

The detective gave in. "Very well," he said.

Mrs. Pickett rose. "If you will come and dine at my house to-night I
think I can prove to you that it will be needed. Will you come?"

"I'll come," promised Mr. Snyder.


VII

When Mr. Snyder arrived at the Excelsior and shortly after he was shown
into the little private sitting room where he found Oakes, the third
guest of the evening unexpectedly arrived.

Mr. Snyder looked curiously at the newcomer. Captain Muller had a
peculiar fascination for him. It was not Mr. Snyder's habit to trust
overmuch to appearances. But he could not help admitting that there was
something about this man's aspect which brought Mrs. Pickett's charges
out of the realm of the fantastic into that of the possible. There was
something odd--an unnatural aspect of gloom--about the man. He bore
himself like one carrying a heavy burden. His eyes were dull, his face
haggard. The next moment the detective was reproaching himself with
allowing his imagination to run away with his calmer judgment.

The door opened, and Mrs. Pickett came in. She made no apology for her
lateness.