Page:The Black Camel (IA blackcamel0000earl).djvu/253

THEY went over and stood by Charlie’s car. A puzzled frown wrinkled the Chief’s brow. “I don’t get this, Charlie.”

“On which point,” returned Chan placidly, “we are like as two reeds bending beside stream.”

“Tarneverro hit you. Why?”

“Why not? Maybe he feels athletic.”

“He'd just been telling you about that letter—hoping that the two of you would run across it somewhere—and when you got it he knocked you down and took it away from you.”

“No doubt he wished to examine it in private.”

The Chief shook his head. “Beyond me—way beyond me. He stole a cigar from Jaynes, hurried down and dropped the butt outside the pavilion window. He wrote a note to Van Horn, sending him off to the library on a fool’s errand. He—he—what else has he done?”

“Perhaps he has murdered Shelah Fane,” Charlie suggested.

“I’m sure he did.”

“Yet he owns fine alibi.”

The Chief looked at his watch. “Yes—I’ll attend to that alibi at five-thirty, if those old people show up as they promised. What are you going to do now?”