"What's the trouble, daddy?" came the girl's voice.
"Trouble?" Roland Delmar laughed nervously. "Nothing, darling. Nothing." Ferret peered through the window, and saw Martha studying her father with a worried air.
"I was going out," the girl said, "but if you are not feeling well, I can remain."
"Run along," said Delmar, with a wan smile. "Don't worry, Martha. Your old dad is all right." Martha came over to the desk and kissed her father. Then she turned toward the door, and made a parting remark.
"I shall be home early."
As the girl left the room, Ferret heard a sound beside him. It was Butcher. The man had made a telephone call from a drug store down the street, and was back with his report. He drew Ferret away from the window.
"Here's the lay," he whispered. "Judge is clever. He tried to put the suicide idea into Delmar's noodle. That's why the old gent took out his gun."
"I get you," said Ferret.
"But he didn't make a go of it," continued Butcher. "Now he's worried about what Delmar is writing. He wants to get hold of it. That's up to you, Ferret."
"Leave it to me," said Ferret grimly.