Then I got tired of it, and stuck it away in a drawer behind a lot of old cancelled checks."
"Was it in good working order then?"
"As far as I know. Fact is, it worked stiff when I got it, and I had the sear filed down, so it was practically a hair-trigger affair. The slightest touch sent it off. Better for shooting targets that way."
"Do you recall if it was loaded when you put it away?"
"Couldn't say. Might have been. It's been so long"
"Were there any cartridges for it in your desk?"
"Now, that I can answer you positively. There wasn't a loose cartridge in the place."
Vance reseated himself.
"Well, Mr. Greene, if you happen to run across the revolver you will, of course, let Mr. Markham or Sergeant Heath know."
"Oh, certainly. With pleasure." Chester's assurance was expressed with an air of magnanimity.
Vance glanced at his watch.
"And now, seeing that Doctor Von Blon is still with his patient, I wonder if we could see Miss Sibella for a moment."
Chester got up, obviously relieved that the subject of the revolver had been disposed of, and went to the bell-cord beside the archway. But he arrested his hand in the act of reaching for it.
"I'll fetch her myself," he said, and hurried from the room.
Markham turned to Vance with a smile.
"Your prophecy about the non-reappearance of the gun has, I note, been temporarily verified."
