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“Good,” said Tarneverro heartily. “You know now my stake in the affair. I hope you will forgive me that I didn’t reveal it fully at the start.”

“Explanation has been most reasonable,” smiled Chan. “All is forgiven. I think you may now be excused.”

“Thank you.” Tarneverro glanced at his watch. “It is getting on toward the dinner hour, isn’t it? I'm sorry that what I have told you is of no vital importance in your search. If there were only some really valuable contribution that I could make——”

Chan nodded. “Understand your feeling plenty well. Who knows? Your opportunity may yet arise.” He escorted Tarneverro from the room, and out the front door of the station house.

When he returned, the Chief was slumped down in his chair. He looked up with a wry smile. “Well,” he remarked, “what was wrong with that picture?”

Charlie grinned. “Pretty much everything,” he responded. “Tarneverro plenty queer man. He wants to help—so he robs cigar from Mr. Jaynes and drops same outside pavilion window. He thirsts for my success—so he writes note that causes me to waste time on innocent Mr. Van Horn. He has mild little reason, of no importance, for not telling me he is Denny Mayo’s brother—but he rages about destroying pictures of Denny as though he would keep matter from me or die in the attempt. He beholds letter in which may be written name of Denny’s killer, and when I am about to open it, he kicks out light and smashes me in face.” Chan rubbed his cheek thoughtfully. “Yes, this Tarneverro plenty peculiar man.”

“Well, where do we go from here?” the Chief in-