Doctor Hoff began tugging at his side-whiskers. “Don’t do nothing like that,” he pleaded. “Come with me to Cincinnati. If he ain’t dead they’ve kidnapped him for a ransom.”
“Then Cincinnati is the last place on the map to look, because there’s where they want you to think he is. But it doesn’t look like a case of ransom to me. Let’s see. Was he particularly drunk the day before he disappeared?”
“No. He was sober.”
“Unusually sober, maybe?” suggested the other.
“Yes, he was. Been sober for a week. An’ he was studyin’, too.”
“Ah! Studying what?”
“Spanish.”
“Spanish, eh? Ever exhibit any interest in foreign tongues before?”
“Not enough to get him through one term in college,” returned the other grimly.
“How did you know about his studying?”