“Describe him.”
“Well... he hasn’t much to offer to the eye. He weighs a hundred and thirty-five, five feet seven. Brown cap and pink necktie. A cat scratched him on the cheek and he didn’t clean it up very well. Brown eyes, pointed nose, wide thin mouth but not tight, pale healthy skin.”
“Hair?”
“He kept his cap on.”
Wolfe sighed. I noticed that the tip of his finger was doing a little circle on the arm of his chair. He said, “Sixty-five hours. Get him and bring him here at once.”
I got up. “Yeah. Alive or dead?”
“By persuasion if possible, certainly with a minimum of violence, but bring him.”
“It’s five minutes to four. You’ll be in the plantrooms.”
“Well? This house is comfortable. Keep him.”
I got some things from a drawer of my desk and stuffed them in my pockets, and beat it.