quiet-toned reply, "for there's a cordon of plain-clothes men about this place and not a soul can leave the grounds without them knowing it!"
I stared at him, wide-eyed and wondering.
"Then what's going to happen to you?" I demanded.
He laughed a little.
"To me?" he asked. "To be perfectly frank, if you'll excuse my absence, I think I'd better slip out and made sure those men are on their jobs. For I had 'em put there, and when you're paying for a thing, you know, it's always better to get it done!"
I stood there, trying in vain to marshal my tangled impressions into some sort of order.
"Wait a minute," I called out to my Hero-Man as he reached the door. "Did you know there was a man coming out to this house to-day for the particular purpose of killing you?"
"That's interesting," he acknowledged with a twinkle in his eye. "And it would be equally interesting, I imagine, to know his name."
"His name is Pinky McClone!"
"I never heard of any such man in all my life," he solemnly averred.
"But you will," I warned him.
"Quite likely," he acknowledged, with a smile,
