Chapter 11 - Page 2

"Well! This is rather startling," said Blake, with difficulty restraining a desire to laugh.

"I--I can wear disguises wonderfully well," Bernie went on, wistfully. "I learned when I was in college theatricals. I was really very good. And you see I might earn a lot of money that way; I understand there are tremendous rewards offered for train-robbers and that sort of people. No one need know, of course, and no one would ever suspect me of being a minion of the law."

"That's true enough. But I'm afraid detectives in real life don't wear false beards. It's a pretty mean occupation, I fancy. Do you seriously think you are--er--fitted for it?"

"Heavens! I'm no good at anything else, and I'm perfectly wonderful at worming secrets out of people. This Mafia matter would give me a great opportunity. I--think I'll try it."

"These Italians have no sense of humor, you know. Something disagreeable might happen if you went prowling around them."

"Oh, of course I'd quit if they discovered my intentions--my game. When we were talking of such things, the other day, I said I was a coward, but really I'm not. I've a frightful temper when I'm roused-- really fiendish. As a matter of fact, I've"--he smiled sheepishly and tapped his slender, high-arched foot with his rattan cane--"I've already begun."

Blake settled back in his chair without a word.

"I'm taking Italian lessons from Myra Nell's nurse, Miss Fabrizi. She's a very superior woman, for a nurse, and she knows all about the Mafia. Quite an inspiration, I call it, thinking of her. I'm working her for informa--for a clue." He winked one eye gravely, and Norvin gasped. Bernie suddenly seemed very secretive, very different from his usual self. It was the first time Blake had ever seen him give this particular facial demonstration, and the effect was much as if some benevolent old lady had winked brazenly.

"Well!" he exclaimed. "I don't know what to say."

"There is nothing to say," Mr. Dreux answered in a vastly self-satisfied tone. "I'm going to offer my services to Donnelly--in confidence, of course. I'm glad you introduced us, for otherwise I'd have to arrange to meet him properly. If he doesn't want me, I'll proceed unaided."

When his caller had gone Blake gave way to the hearty laughter he had been smothering, dwelling with keen enjoyment upon the probable result of Bernie's interview with the Chief. Dan, he was sure, would not hurt the little man's feelings, so he felt no obligation to interfere.

Although he was expecting to hear from Donnelly at any moment regarding the Narcone matter, it was not until two weeks after their nocturnal excursion to the Italian quarter that the Chief came to see him. He brought unexpected news.

"We've had a run of