He ignored his visitor until he had finished the last lines of the letter.
“That will do, Miss Smythe,” he said. “I’ll call you later.”
The girl smiled as she noticed the old man, with his flowing beard and wavy hair. She pictured him as a modern “Buffalo Bill,” particularly because of the broad-brimmed hat, which he had not removed from his head.
The girl went out, closing the door behind her. The lawyer immediately went over and locked the door. He turned to his visitor as he was walking back to the desk.
“We won’t be disturbed,” he said in a low voice.
The white beard and the mass of spreading hair tumbled from the old man’s head, along with the picturesque hat. Staring at Charles Blefken was the swarthy visage of Joe Cardona, ace detective of the New York police department.
Cardona was grinning broadly. Blefken joined with a slight smile.
“Great to get rid of those moth-grabbers,” observed Cardona, in a low tone. “This Santa Claus stuff is a terrible racket.”
“When you go in for disguise, Joe,” said Blefken, “you certainly make a good job of it.”
Cardona shrugged his shoulders.