“Well, heaven knows I’ve got to pack. I’m sorry, Mrs. Cool, but that’s just the way I feel about that accident case, and you could stay here until midnight and not change my opinion.”
Slowly, reluctantly, Bertha Cool got to her feet and headed wearily toward the door. “All right,” she said. “Good night — and good luck in your new job.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Cool. Good night and good luck.”
“And if you don’t think I could use a cartload of that last, you’re nuts,” Bertha said with feeling, as she let herself out into the outer corridor.
Chapter XIX
A taxicab Took Bertha Cool to the residence of Dr. Howard P. Rindger. Bertha rang the bell and when the doctor himself came to the door, said, “I think you remember me, Doctor. I’m—”
“Oh yes, Mrs. Cool, the investigator. Do come in, Mrs. Cool.”
“I wanted to consult you professionally Doctor.”
He looked at her shrewdly. “Feeling all right? You look as sound as a nut.”
“Oh, I’m all right. I want to get a little professional advice.”