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nydus/Continental Op StoriesPublic

A collection of short stories about an unnamed agent of a detective agency in the early 1920s.

Page 164 of 1257
Table of Contents

I

the old man. So, to soothe her, I agreed to employ a private detective when she asked me to. My idea is that you hang around for a couple of days, until things quiet down and she feels safe again. Meanwhile, if you should stumble upon anything⁠—go to it! If you don’t⁠—well and good.”

My face must have shown something of what I was thinking, for his eyes twinkled and he chuckled banteringly.

“Don’t, please,” he drawled, “get the idea that you aren’t to find my father-in-law’s would-be assassin if you wish to. You’re to have a free hand. Go as far as you like; except that I want you to be around the place as much as possible, so my wife will see you and feel that we are being adequately protected. Beyond that, I don’t care what you do. You can apprehend criminals by the carload. As you may have gathered by now, I’m not exactly in love with my wife’s father; and he’s no more fond of me. To be frank, if hating weren’t such an effort⁠—if it didn’t require so much energy⁠—I think I should hate the old devil. But if you want to, and can, catch the man who shot at him, I’d be glad to have you do it. But⁠—”

“All right,” I said. “I don’t like this job much; but since I’m up here I’ll take it on. But, remember, I’m trying all the time.”

“Sincerity and earnestness,” he showed his teeth in a sardonic smile as we got to our feet, “are very praiseworthy traits.”

“So I hear,” I growled shortly. “Now let’s take a look at Mr. Exon’s room.”

Gallaway’s wife and the nurse were with the invalid, but I examined the room before I asked the occupants any questions.

It was a large room, with three wide windows, opening over the porch; and two doors, one of which gave to the hall, and the other to the

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