“I’m from the Continental Detective Agency and I am interested in Joseph Clane. What do you know about him?”
He was wide awake now.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing at all?”
“No,” sullenly.
“Do you know him?”
“No.”
What can you do with a bird like that?
“Farr,” I said, “I want you to go down to headquarters with me.”
He moved like a streak and his sullen manner had me a little off my guard; but I turned my head in time to take the punch above my ear instead of on the chin. At that, it carried me off my feet and I wouldn’t have bet a nickel that my skull wasn’t dented; but luck was with me and I fell across the doorway, holding the door open, and managed to scramble up, stumble through some rooms, and catch one of his feet as it was going through the bathroom window to join its mate on the fire-escape. I got a split lip and a kicked shoulder in the scuffle, but he behaved after a while.
I didn’t stop to look at his stuff—that could be done more regularly later—but put him in a taxicab and took him to the Hall of Justice. I was afraid that if I waited too long Clane would take a run-out on me.
Clane’s mouth fell open when he saw Farr, but neither of them said anything.
I was feeling pretty chirp in spite of my bruises.