"I came here," said Clancy coldly, "to keep a business engagement, not to answer puzzles. I don't know what you're talking about."
"Now, be nice; be nice," said the agent. "I ain't mad, Florine. Didn't Fanny DeLisle tell you I was a good old scout?"
"She said that you were a very competent agent," said Clancy.
"Oh, did she, now?" Beiner sneered. "Well, wasn't that sweet of old Fanny? She didn't happen to say that anybody that tried to trim old Morris was liable to get their hair cut, did she?"
All fear had left Clancy now. She was exasperated.
"Why don't you talk plain English?" she demanded.
"Oh, you'd like it better that way, would you?" Beiner threw his cigar upon the floor and ground his heel upon it. "'Plain English,' eh? All right; you'll get it. Why did Ike Weber send you here?"
Clancy's breath sucked in audibly. Her face, that had been colored with nervous indignation, whitened.
"'Ike Weber?'" she murmured.