"I fully
expected an arrest."
He said nothing, but went on methodically restoring his apparatus
to its proper place.
"What a peculiar life you lead, Craig," I pursued reflectively.
"One day it is a case that ends with such a bright spot in our
lives as the recollection of the Shirleys; the next goes to the
other extreme of gruesomeness and one can hardly think about it
without a shudder. And then, through it all, you go with the high
speed power of a racing motor."
"That last case appealed to me, like many others," he ruminated,
"just because it was so unusual, so gruesome, as you call it."
He reached into the pocket of his coat, hung over the back of a
chair.
"Now, here's another most unusual case, apparently. It begins,
really, at the other end, so to speak, with the conviction, begins
at the very place where we detectives send a man as the last act
of our little dramas."
"What?" I gasped, "another case before even this one is fairly
cleaned up? Craig--you are impossible. You get worse instead of
better.
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