Amberg—only son of old Jacob—at his place up the Hudson. Right away. You can go, Barney.”
Barney went, unwillingly. It was not that he was interested in Harper’s case, nor even in Babbing’s handling of it. He was simply so glamoured by Babbing himself that he could have sat listening to the Chief discourse in a foreign language, and been happy in the sound and the sight of him. And he was so single-minded in his infatuation that he was not aware how Babbing played down to him, and expanded before him, and enjoyed the incense of his boyish idealization of detectives and their work. He knew that Babbing liked him; but he was accustomed to having people like him; and he had learned not to presume on it. He returned to the labor of preparing his previous day’s report.
A while later, Babbing notified him by telephone: “Be at your desk at three o’clock this afternoon. I want you to make another appearance in this Harper business.”
