pushed, and his clever gray eyes looked smaller.
Finally he said in a cultivated tone, “I understood you
wanted to ask me something.”
Wolfe nodded. “Yes, sir. Were you able to overhear much
of my conversation with Miss Osgood this afternoon?”
“Not a great deal. In fact, very little.” Bronson smiled.
“What was that for, to see if I would make an effort at in-
dignation? Let me suggest … we won’t really need finesse.
I know a little something about you, I’m aware of your re-
sources, but I have a few myself. Why don’t we just agree
that you’re not a fool and neither am I?”
“Indeed.” Wolfe’s lids had lifted so that his eyes were more
than slits. “Are you really a coolheaded man? There are so
few.”
“I’m fairly intelligent.”
“Then thank heaven we can discuss facts calmly, without
a lot of useless pother … facts which I have got from Miss
Osgood. For instance, that you are what Mr. Osgood—and
many other people—would call an unscrupulous blackguard.”
“I don’t …” Bronson flipped a hand. “Oh, well. Calling
names…”
“Just so. I can excoriate stupidity, and often do, because it
riles me, but moral indignation is a dangerous indulgence.
Ethology is a chaos. Financial banditry, for example … I
either condemn it or I don’t; and if I do, without prejudice,
where will I find jailers? No. My only excuse for labeling you
an unscrupulous blackguard is the dictionary, and I do it to
clarify our positions. I’m in the detective business, and you’re
in the blackguard business … and I want to consult with you
about both. I am counting on you to help me in my investiga-
tion of a murder, and I also have a suggestion to make regard-
ing one of your projects—the one that brought you here.
Regarding the murder—”
“Perhaps we’d better take the last one first and get it out
of the way. I’m always open to a reasonable suggestion.”
“As you please, sir.” Wolfe’s lips pushed out, and in again.
“You have a paper signed by Clyde Osgood. You showed it to
Miss Osgood this morning.”
“A receipt for money I paid him.”
“Specifying the services he was to perform in return.”
“Yes.”
“The performance of which would render him likewise a
blackguard … in the estimation of his father.”
“That’s right.”
Wolfe stirred. “I want that paper. Now wait. I offer no
challenge to your right to expect your money back. I concede
that right. But I don’t like your methods of collection. You
may have a right to them too, but I do not like them. Miss
Osgood aroused my admiration this afternoon, which is rare
for a woman, and I want to relieve the pressure on her. I
propose that you hand the paper to Mr. Goodwin; it will be
safe in his custody. Within 10 days at the outside I shall either
pay you the $10,000, or have it paid, or return the paper to
you. I make that pledge without reservation.” Wolfe aimed a
thumb at me. “Give it to him.”
The blackguard shook his head, slowly and positively. “I
said a reasonable suggestion.”
“You won’t do it?”
“No.”
“The security is superlative. I rarely offer pledges, because
I would redeem one, tritely, with my life.”
“I couldn’t use your life. The security you offer may be
good, but the paper signed by Osgood is better, and it be-
longs to me. Why the deuce should I give it up?”
I looked at Wolfe inquiringly. “I’d be glad to under-
take-”
“No, thanks, Archie. We’ll pass it, at least for the present.
—I hope, Mr. Bronson, that your antagonism will find—”
“I’m not antagonistic,” Bronson interrupted. “Don’t get me
wrong. I said I’m not a fool, and I would be a fool to an-
tagonize you. I know very well I’m vulnerable, and I know
what you can do. If I make an enemy of you I might as well
leave New York. I’ve only been there two months, but if you
wanted to take the trouble to trace me back I don’t deny you
could do it. You wouldn’t find that a cell is waiting for me
anywhere, but you could collect enough to make it damned
hard going … too hard. I’ve had a bad break on this Clyde
Osgood thing, but I can try again and expect better luck,
and God knows I don’t want you hounding me, and you
wouldn’t go to the expense and trouble just for the fun of it.
Believe me, I’m not antagonistic. You have no right to get
sore about my not surrendering that paper, because it’s mine,
but otherwise I’m for you. If I can help any I will.”
“No finesse, Mr. Bronson?”
“None.”
“Good. Then tell me first, where were you bom?”
Bronson shook his head. “I said help you, not satisfy your
curiosity.”
“You’ve admitted I can trace you back if I care to take
the trouble,”
“Then take the trouble.”
“Very well, I’ll be more direct. Have you ever handled
cattle?”
Bronson stared, then let out a short laugh and said, “My
God, must I take it back about your not being a fool? Do
you mean to say you’re trying to fit me in that thing?”
“Have you ever handled cattle?”
“I’ve never had the slightest association with cattle. I know
where milk and beef come from only because I read it some-
where.”
“Where is the club you were carrying last night when you
accompanied Clyde Osgood to Pratt’s place?”
“Club?”
“Yes. A rough club, a length of sapling.”
“Why … I don’t think … Oh yes. Sure, I remember. It
was leaning up against a shed as we went by, and I just—”
“Where is it?”
“You mean now? After all—”
“Where did you leave it?”
“Why … I don’t… Oh! Sure. When we got to the fence,
where the trees ended, Clyde went on and I came back. He
took the club with him.”
“What for?”
Bronson shrugged. He had himself collected again. “Just
to have it, I suppose. I notice you carry a heavy walking stick.
What for?”
“Not to knock myself unconscious with. Did Clyde ask for
the club? Did you offer it to him?”
“I don’t know. It was quite casual, one way or the other,
Why, was he knocked on the head? I thought he was killed
with a pick, according to your—”
“You’re supposed to be helping, sir, not chattering. I need
the truth about that club.”
“You’ve had it.”
“Nonsense. You were obviously disconcerted, and you
stalled.” Wolfe wiggled a finger at him. “If you don’t want my
antagonism, beware. This is the most favorable chance you’ll
have to tell the truth, here privately with me in comparative
amity. Isn’t it a fact that you yourself carried the club to Mr.
Pratt’s place?”
“No. I didn’t go there.”
“You stick to that?”
“It’s the truth.”
“I warn you again, beware. But say we take that, for the
moment, for truth, tell me this: why was Clyde going to
Pratt’s? What was he going to do there?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did he say he was going to do?”
“He didn’t say.”
Wolfe shut his eyes and was silent. I saw the tip of his
index finger making little circles on the arm of his chair,
and knew he was speechless with fury. After a minute Bron-
son began:
“I may as well—”
“Shut up!” Wolfe’s lids quivered as he opened his eyes.
“You’re making a mistake. A bad one. Listen to this. You
were demanding immediate repayment of your money. Clyde,
unable to raise the sum in New York, came here to appeal to
his father, and you were in such a hurry, or mistrusted him so
greatly, or both, that you came along. You wouldn’t let him
out of your sight. His father refused his appeal, since Clyde
wouldn’t tell him what the money was needed for—to save
the Osgood honor would be correct phrasing—and you were
ready to disclose the facts to the father and collect your debt
direct from him. Then Clyde, in desperation, made a bet. He
couldn’t possibly win the bet and pay you for 6 days, until the
week expired, and what acceptable assurance could he give
you that he would win it at all? Only one assurance could
have induced you to wait: a satisfactory explanation of the
method by which he expected to win. So he gave it to you.
Don’t try to tell me he didn’t; I’m not a gull. He told you
how he expected to win, and the steps he proposed to take.
Very well, you tell me.”
Bronson shook his head. “All I can say is, you’re wrong.
He didn’t tell-”
“Pfui. I’m right. I know when I’m right. Beware, sir.”
Bronson shrugged. “It won’t get you anywhere to keep
telling me to beware. I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”