"What was that stuff about a monk?" demanded Jason.
"That's part of my story. When Mr. Krech has heard it, he will tell us if it is likely to interest his friend." He sent a questioning glance at the big man. "By the way, what is his name?"
"Peter Creighton," said Mr. Krech.
X: Creighton Takes the Case
Jason Bolt and Herman Krech listened to Varr's narrative in rapt silence. The former's interest was mixed with amazement, the latter's with enthusiasm. As the tale progressed the big man hitched farther and farther forward in his chair, his expression that of a little child who proposes to miss no syllable of a fascinating fairy story. He considered himself something of a connoisseur in crime, did Mr. Krech, thanks to a few experiences with his friend Creighton, and a subject that had always made an appeal to his imagination was now become the hobby of his every idle moment. Although he would not have abandoned a lucrative business to take a position on Creighton's staff of operatives, it was his secret grief that the detective had never recognized his ability to the extent of offering him one.
He was beaming with delight by the time Varr had ended his curt account of his tribulations, and his distaste of the tanner's personality had been temporarily forgotten.
"Gee Joseph, Mr. Varr!" he burst out. "You really ought to congratulate yourself! You've been the victim of the prettiest piece of persecution I've ever heard of!"
"Thanks," returned Simon without enthusiasm.
"He seems to be waltzing all around you and jabbing you just where it will hurt the most, and yet he's clever enough to evade capture and even to keep you from guessing his identity. Why not make a list of your known enemies and check them off one by one?"