At the apartment, as the Inspector wielded his key and the door swung open, Djuna pounced on a yellow envelope lying on the floor. It had evidently been stuck through the crack at the bottom of the door. Djuna flourished it in the old man’s face. “It’s from Mr. Ellery, I’ll bet!” he cried. “I knew he wouldn’t forget!” He seemed more extraordinarily like a monkey than ever as he stood grinning, the telegram in his hand. The Inspector snatched the envelope from Djuna’s hand and, not pausing to take off his hat or coat, switched on the lights in the living-room and eagerly extracted the yellow slip of paper. Djuna had been correct. ARRIVED SAFELY [it ran] CHAUVIN WILD WITH DELIGHT FISHING PROSPECT EXCEPTIONAL stop THINK I HAVE SOLVED YOUR LITTLE PROBLEM stop JOIN DISTINGUISHED COMPANY OF RABELAIS CHAUCER SHAKESPEARE DRYDEN WHO SAID MAKE A VIRTUE OF NECESSITY stop WHY NOT GO INTO BLACKMAILING BUSINESS YOURSELF stop DONT GROWL DJUNA TO DEATH AFFECTIONATELY ELLERY The Inspector stared down at the harmless yellow slip, a startled comprehension transmuting the harsh lines of his face. He whirled on Djuna, clapped that young gentleman’s cap on his tousled head and pulled his arm purposefully. “Djuna, old son,” he said gleefully, “let’s go around the corner and celebrate with a couple of ice-cream sodas!” CHAPTER XX IN WHICH MR. MICHAELS WRITES A LETTER For the first time in a week Inspector Queen was genuinely himself as he strode cheerfully into his tiny office at the headquarters building and shied his coat at a chair. It was Monday morning. He rubbed his hands, hummed “The Sidewalks of New York,” as he plumped down at his desk and briskly ran through his voluminous mail and reports. He spent a half-hour issuing instructions by word of mouth and telephone to subordinates in various offices of the Detective Bureau, studied briefly a number of reports which a stenographer placed before him and finally pressed one of a row of buttons on his desk. Velie appeared at once. “Howdy, Thomas,” said the Inspector heartily. “How are you this fine Fall morning?” Velie permitted himself a smile. “Well enough, Inspector,” he said. “And you? You seemed a little under the weather Saturday night.” The Inspector chuckled. “Let bygones be bygones, Thomas my lad. Djuna and I visited the Bronx Zoo yesterday and spent a delightful four hours among our brethren, the animals.” “That imp of yours was in his element, I’ll bet,” growled Velie, “among the monkeys especially.” “Now, now, Thomas,” chided the Inspector. “Don’t be mistaken about Djuna. He’s a smart little whippersnapper. Going to be a great man some day, mark my words!” “Djuna?” Velie nodded gravely. “Guess you’re right, Inspector. I’d give my right paw for that kid.... What’s the program to-day, sir?”