Drew rubbed the glass at his side and started out. He swept the mansion with swift-running eyes. He turned.
“They were sweet—them two,” went on Delaney with thought. “I deducts they’d known each other a long while.”
“Quit your deducting. Get to facts!”
“Well, Chief, he ups and gives the drug-store the once over with sharp looks. Then he handed her a little, flat box which she pops into her muff—quick as any shop-hister. It was as quick as that!”
“How do you know it was a revolver?”
“By what followed, Chief.”
“What followed?”
“Her hand creeps into the muff. It works around while the clerk is mixin’ the sundae. When the clerk’s back is turned, out comes the hilt of a nice, little gat with ivory trimmin’s. It’s one of them lovely watch-charm affairs—all polished up without a knock-out punch.”
“A twenty-two?”
“About that. It’s the caliber them actresses carry in their stockings. It might kill, though, at short range.”