Queen rose. “Well, Michaels, of course you understand that you are not exactly a free agent at present. You may go home and look for another job if you want to, but stay at your present lodgings and be ready for a call at any time.... Just a moment, before you go.” He strode over to the black suit-case and snapped it open. A jumbled mass of clothing—a dark suit, shirts, ties, socks—some clean, some dirty—was revealed. Queen rummaged swiftly through the bag, closed it and handed it to Michaels, who was standing to one side with an expression of sorrowful patience. “Seems to me you were taking mighty few duds with you, Michaels,” remarked Queen, smiling. “It’s too bad that you’ve been done out of your vacation. Well! That’s the way life is!” Michaels murmured a low good-by, picked up the bag and departed. A moment later Piggott strolled out of the apartment. Ellery threw back his head and laughed delightedly. “What a mannerly beggar! Lying in his teeth, pater.... And what did he want here, do you think?” “He came to get something, of course,” mused the Inspector. “And that means there’s something here of importance that we have apparently overlooked....” He grew thoughtful. The telephone bell rang. “Inspector?” Sergeant Velie’s voice boomed over the wire. “I called headquarters but you weren’t there, so I guessed you were still at Field’s place.... I’ve some interesting news for you from Browne Bros. Do you want me to come up to Field’s?” “No,” returned Queen. “We’re through here. I’ll be at my office just as soon as I’ve paid a visit to Field’s on Chambers Street. I’ll be there if anything important comes up in the interim. Where are you now?” “Fifth Avenue—I’ve just come out of Browne’s.” “Then go back to headquarters and wait for me. And, Thomas—send a uniformed man up here right away.” Queen hung up and turned to Johnson. “Stay here until a cop shows up—it won’t be long,” he grunted. “Have him keep a watch in the apartment and arrange for a relief. Then report back to the main office.... Come along, Ellery. This is going to be a busy day!” Ellery’s protests were in vain. His father fussily hustled him out of the building and into the street, where the roar of a taxicab’s exhaust effectually drowned out his voice. CHAPTER X IN WHICH MR. FIELD’S TOPHATS BEGIN TO ASSUME PROPORTIONS It was exactly ten o’clock in the morning when Inspector Queen and his son opened the frosted glass door marked: MONTE FIELD ATTORNEY-AT-LAW