Fer-De-Lance

I took her to the front door and let her out. I thought she might have handed me a good day too, but she didn’t. She didn’t say anything. As she went out I saw her car at the curb, a dark blue coupй.

Back in the office, Wolfe was in his chair again. I stood on the other side of the desk looking at him.

"Well," I said, "what do you know about that?"

His cheeks folded. "I know I’m hungry, Archie. It is pleasant to have an appetite again. I’ve had none for weeks."

Naturally I was indignant; I stared at him. "You can say that, after Friday and Saturday and Sunday-"

"But no appetite. A desperate search for one. Now I’m hungry. Lunch will be in twenty minutes. Meantime: I have learned that there is a person attached to a golf club called a professional. Find out who fills that post at the Green Meadow Club; see if we have any grateful client who might introduce us on the telephone; invite the professional, urgently, to dine with us this evening. There is a goose left from Saturday. After lunch you will pay a visit to the office of Dr. Nathaniel Bradford, and stop at the library for some books I need."

"Yes, sir. Who do you think Miss Barstow-"

"Not now, Archie. I would prefer just to sit here quietly and be hungry. After lunch."

CHAPTER 8

At ten o’clock Tuesday morning, June 13, I drove the roadster through the entrance gate of the Barstow place, after it had been opened for me by a state trooper who was there on guard. Another husky was with him, a private watchman of the Barstows’, and I had to furnish plenty of proof that I was the Archie Goodwin Sarah Barstow was expecting. It looked likely that many a newspaper man had been sent to climb a tree around there in the past three days.