we can talk freely before them, I can assure you. Good fellows, too, Haddon."
The hotel and cabaret keeper smiled a sickly smile and greeted us with a covert, questioning glance.
"This attack on Mr. Carton has unnerved me," he shivered. "If any one dares to do that to him, what will they do to me?"
"Don't get cold feet, Haddon," urged Carton. "You'll be all right. I'll swing it for you."
Haddon made no reply. At length he remarked: "You'll excuse me for a moment. I must telephone to my hotel."
He entered a booth in the shadow of the back of the café, where there was a slot-machine pay-station. "I think Haddon has his suspicions," remarked Carton, "although he is too prudent to say anything yet."
A moment later he returned. Something seemed to have happened. He looked less nervous. His face was brighter and his eyes clearer. What was it, I wondered? Could it be that he was playing a game with Carton and had given him a double cross? I was quite surprised at his next remark.
"Carton," he said confidently, "I'll stick."
"Good," exclaimed the district attorney, as they fell into a conversation in low tones.
"By the way," drawled Kennedy, "I must telephone to the office in case they need me."
He had risen and entered the same booth.
Haddon and Carton were still talking earnestly. It was evident that, for some reason, Haddon had lost his former halting manner. Perhaps, I reasoned, the
