"Trying to run a bluff on me? On me?" Farland gasped. "You'd better talk straight. Do you expect to run a barber shop by day and a gambling joint by night all your life?" "Why, I----" "Don't lie!" Farland interrupted. "I know all about that little back room. Maybe I'm not on the city police force now, but you know me! I've got a bunch of friends on the force, and if I told a certain sergeant about your little game and said that I wanted to have you run in he wouldn't hesitate a minute." "But what have I done, Mr. Farland?" the barber gasped. "I've always been friendly to you." "I know it. But are you going to keep right on being friendly?" "Of course, sir." "Willing to help me out in a little matter if I forget about that gambling?" "I'll do the best I can, Mr. Farland." "Then answer a few questions. Did you get a typewritten letter this morning, with a wad of money in it?" The barber's face turned white. "Answer me!" Farland commanded. "Yes, I--I got such a letter and I don't know what to make of it," the barber said. "I've got the letter and money in my desk right now. There wasn't any signature, and I didn't know where the letter came from, or what it meant." "Then why did you do what the letter told you to do?" Farland asked. "I--I don't understand." Farland motioned, and Murk now stepped around the corner. "Know this man?" Farland demanded. "I--I've seen him before." "That letter told you to go to police headquarters, if requested to do so, and deny you knew this man, didn't it? It told you not to help a man named Sidney Prale, arrested for murder, to make his alibi by telling that he was here with this man last night about eleven o'clock, didn't it?" "Y-yes, sir." "And you did just what the letter told you?" "I was afraid not to do it, sir. I didn't know where that letter came from, you see." "Had an idea it came from some boss, didn't you?" "I didn't know and I didn't dare take a chance, Mr. Farland. You know how it is?" "I know how it is with a man who has busted a few laws and knows he ought to be pinched!" "Did I make some sort of a mistake, sir? What should I do now?" "Something you don't do very often--tell the truth," Jim Farland replied. "How about this man?" "He came here with the other gentleman last night about eleven o'clock, sir. He got a hair cut and a shave, and the other gentleman paid the bill." "Thanks. Sure about the time?" "I know that it was almost a quarter after eleven when they left the shop." "Well, I'm glad you can speak the truth. Get on your hat and coat!" "I--what do you mean, sir? Am I arrested?" "No. Get that letter and come with me. I want you to tell the truth to somebody else, that's all." The frightened barber got his hat and coat and the letter, and followed Jim Farland and Murk to the corner. There Farland engaged another taxicab, and ordered the chauffeur to drive back to the little clothing store.