"What's up?" asked Carroll.

"Singa Phut," was the panting answer. "Friend of mine just tipped me
off where I can get him! See you later!" and, making sure that his
blackjack and revolver were in his pockets, Donovan hurried out,
followed by the colonel, whose hand had loosely closed over the ticking
watch which, unseen, went out with him.

Later that night Singa Phut, a silent, shrinking and somewhat pathetic
figure, slept in a cell at police headquarters. Donovan, on the
information brought in by a stool-pigeon, had made the arrest and was
jubilant thereat.


Colonel Ashley, with Shag at the proper distance in the background, and
with Jay Kenneth as his invited guest, was sitting on the bank of a
little stream, fishing; or, at any rate, he was somewhat idly using a
rod and line to aid him in his thoughts.

Following his visit to police headquarters and his return to the hotel,
he had called Kenneth on the telephone and arranged to spend a quiet
day with him in the fields near the stream.

"I want to talk over Darcy's case with you," the colonel had said.

And the two had talked, had thought, had talked again, and now were
silent for a time.

"What are the chances of getting him off legally if we go at it from a
negative standpoint?" asked the colonel. "I mean, Mr. Kenneth, if we
call upon the prosecution to make out their best case, which they can
do only by circumstantial evidence, and then put our man on the stand,
to deny everything, to have him tell about the noise in the night,
about the curious sensation he experienced, about the possibility of
chloroform, call witnesses as to his good character--and so on--what
are the chances?"

"Rather a hypothetical question, Colonel, but I should say it might be
a fifty-fifty proposition. At best he would get off with a Scotch
verdict of 'not proven,' but he doesn't want that, nor do I. And
you--"

"I don't want it, either. But I want to know just where we stand. Now
I know. We've got to prove James Darcy innocent by establishing the
fact that some one else killed his cousin."

"Exactly. And can it be done?"

"It can, and I'm going to do it. But I need to do a little more
smoking-out first. Now I want to think. If you'll excuse me I'll
pretend I'm fishing, and I may catch something. In fact, I have a
feeling that I'll land my fish. And perhaps you have some other
problems that may be clarified by a dallying along this stream. Ah,
there's nothing like the philosophy of my friend Izaak Walton. I'd
recommend him to you instead of Blackstone."

"Thanks!" laughed Kenneth. "I am not altogether unfamiliar with the
Complete Angler. And you are right. I have a little problem on my
hands."

"What is it? Perhaps I can help you. The old adage of two heads, you
know--"

"Yes. It still holds good. Well, the question I am trying to solve is
why did she say: 'No alimony!'"

"'No alimony'?" repeated the colonel, puzzled.

"Yes. Just that. As you may have guessed, it's a divorce case I have
just finished, and so quietly that it hasn't become public property
yet. When it does it will create a sensation."

"No alimony, eh? I suppose the lady--there is a lady in it, of
course?" questioned the colonel.

"Of course--as is usual in a divorce case. And there's no reason you
shouldn't know. It's Mrs. Larch, wife of Langford Larch, the wealthy
hotel owner. She has just been granted, on my application before the
vice chancellor, a separation from her husband, but she refused to
accept alimony, and for the life of me, with all Larch's wealth, I
can't see why. That's my problem, Colonel!"




CHAPTER XII

THE ODD COIN

Colonel Ashley fished for a time in silence, broken only by the gentle
snores of Shag, farther back in the field, and by the murmur of the
water. The old colored man, wrapped in a warm coat, for it was not
summer yet, seemed to be enjoying his siesta when, with a suddenness
that was startling in that solitude, the military detective uttered a
cry of:

"I've got it!"

"What?" called Kenneth. "The solution to my problem?"


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