"I think it happened on Christmas," remarked Drene turning toward
the other and laying a finger on the number 25 printed in red.

Graylock's head bent slightly.

"Very well. Suppose about eleven o'clock on Christmas night you
give your automatic a thorough cleaning.

"If you say so."

"You have one?"

"I shall buy one."

"Didn't you come here armed?"

"No."

Drene looked at him very intently. But Graylock had never been a
liar. After a few moments he went over to his desk, replaced the
weapon under the papers, and, still busy, said over his shoulder:

"All right. You can go."



VI

He wrote to Cecile once: