"I don't see how he could," I told her, "unless that Madame la Lune is a complete phoney--which doesn't make sense. She and I were alone in the room. If it was a plant, there's nothing to tell. If she's on the level she won't remember what went on." "That's no plant," Arthurjean Briggs announced. "It wouldn't make sense for the F.B.I. to pull it. Harcourt sent you there in the first place but he wouldn't put her up to a trick like that." "He'll be hot on my trail then," I said. "All those clergymen I saw will have to be checked--when all the time--" "Do you know what I'd do if I was you," she said abruptly. "I'd get rid of that damn dog--but fast." "You mean sell it?" I asked. "I mean kill it. It isn't natural, acting that way. It's been worrying you nigh crazy, that's what it's been doing. You just take it to the vet's and have it chloroformed. They do it all the time on account of the rabbis--" "Rabies," I corrected. "That's right, but they do it, don't they? You don't have to get permission. He's your property. You can tell the vet he bit you--" I started up. "Hell!" I exclaimed. "I've got to get him away from the kennels fast. It's--it's--" Arthurjean put her large, strong hand on my shoulder. "There, honey," she soothed me. "It's all right. It's going to be all right." I looked at her and realized that she hadn't believed a word of my story. "See here--" I began, when the door-bell rang. "Two-to-one it's Harcourt," I remarked. "I hope so," said Arthurjean coloring faintly. "Well, what's all this about?" I demanded, as a slow blush gathered in sunset fury upon her pleasant face. "Why, Arthurjean--" "Lay off," she begged. "He's a nice guy and he hasn't got that family in Brooklyn he kept talking about. You and me are washed up--and--well, he's from the South, too, and he talks my language." "Good luck," I told her. "But he's also on the doorstep, so take hold of yourself." He was. She did. "'Evening, Miss Briggs," the Special Agent said politely. "Any luck, Mr. Tompkins?" I shook my head. He looked reproachful. "Oh, come now," he pleaded. "_Something_ must have happened. You got out of Harlem like a bat out of hell and almost shook the agent who was tailing you. You don't look to me like nothing happened. Have you filled in that gap? Started to remember anything?" "On my word of honor, Andy," I swore, "I haven't remembered a thing. The gap's still there." He said nothing for a few minutes and exchanged a glance with Arthurjean. "Something must have happened," he requested. "You've changed. Come clean, can't you? I'm only trying to help you." "I can't tell you much of anything," I told him. "You wouldn't believe me if I did. There's been a sort of locked door inside my mind for the last three weeks. Now the door's unlocked and is beginning to swing open. I haven't looked inside, but I think I know what I'll find. I can't tell you more than that now." "But you're going to look, aren't you?" he asked.