"Of course, it ain't exactly regulation," Delaney admitted, "but I guess it will be all right. I got my gat right here and I'll pop you off if you try any funny work, you can bank on that." He was an extraordinary fellow, seeming to take a childish pleasure in thoughts of crime and sudden death.
So he gave Central the number of the taxi company instead of the jail. In the interval they waited he ordered Dudley to come into the study again with him while he noted the position of the blood marks upon the Oriental rugs and questioned the three other Hindu servants through Dhinn as an interpreter.
Thus it happened that there were none of the curious on hand when the Ford sedan drove up to the curb in front of the court house and Officer Delaney parked his motorcycle not two feet in its wake. The civilian from the taxi paid his fare while the policeman stood beside him, and the two walked around the side of the building to the entrance to the jail. A grizzled, florid-faced sergeant sat behind the desk, and Dudley had to detail the same information he had given Delaney over again.
"Would you care to write out a statement?" asked the sergeant.
There flashed through Dudley's mind the only thing he remembered from a college prank that had brought him into contact with the
