"I came as quickly as a taxi would bring me, sir."
"I don't mean now." The chief threw his cigar butt into the cuspidor and seated himself with deliberation behind his desk. "I mean since your last report; a report, let me remind you, which amounted to nothing."
"I have been working on the case, sir, as far as I was able along the lines laid down at that time. I thought it was understood that I was not to put in an appearance until I had something definite to report."
"When would that have been?" McCormick leaned back in his chair. "Look here, Ross, I've sent for you because something is going on that I don't understand, or rather I don't want to understand it, the way things seem to lie now. I want to give you a chance to explain, if you can. I've taken a personal interest in you from the time you walked into my office to look for a job, with nothing but your nerve to recommend you, and a college education against you, to say nothing of the fact that you were born a gentleman. I gave you a chance to show me what you could do and you made good, and since then I've come to depend on you more than I realized until this thing hit me between the eyes! I'd have banked on your honesty as I would on my own, and thank God! I've always been square, but, Ross, you've got to speak out now like a man!"
"What is it, sir?" Herbert Ross straightened himself and his steadfast gaze never wavered. "Are you accusing me of crooked work?"
"I'm accusing you of nothing." The Chief's face had turned a dull, mottled red. "You may have good reasons for what you're pulling, but whatever they are it's time you let me in on your game. You spotted Ide hanging around the gates of that Atterbury house on the North Drive and tipped me off. You were sure of yourself and as keen about nabbing him as anybody. I didn't ask you then what you were doing in that neighborhood, and if I asked you now I know devilish well you'd say you had been on your way to see the old lady, Madame Dumois."
Ross looked up quickly.
"It would be the truth," he remarked.
"Well, we'll let that slide, for a minute." The detective waved his hand, as if brushing something tangible aside. "The next thing I know you come to me with a complete change of front and do your level best to make me lay off the Ide matter, claiming to know that the Atterbury woman is too high up, socially and every other way, for anybody around her place to be mixed in anything shady. When I told you I had enough dope already to work on and mentioned the girl with a scar on her face you did everything you could to throw me off the trail."
"That is rather a sweeping assertion, Chief." Ross's face had gone very white. "Mrs. Atterbury is well known on the Street as one of the biggest women traders, powerful enough to swing the market in a crisis, and her social connections are irreproachable and of long standing. I know nothing about the girl with the scar or any other member of her household."