"You live there, don't you?" Dave countered, looking suspiciously at the stenographer.
"I was over in Mill Valley last night," Dave began confusedly.
And Dave proceeded in the face of a growing conviction that was unbelievable.
"I came to break in," Dave answered in all frankness.
Dave paused and looked for the effect that would follow his words.
Dave noticed they were large, powerful hands, withal well-cared for despite their dark sunburn.
Ward took a wallet from his inside coat pocket, drew out a greenback, and passed it to Dave, who noted as he pocketed it that it was for twenty dollars.
"Say," Dave began, "now I come to think of it that wild man looked a lot like you--"
That was as far as Dave got, for at that moment he witnessed a transformation and found himself gazing into the same unspeakably ferocious blue eyes of the night before, at the same clutching talon-like hands, and at the same formidable bulk in the act of springing upon him.
And Dave went, without further word, both his biceps aching intolerably from the bruise of that tremendous grip.
Ward was saying, and Dave noted that his face and eyes were cruel and gloating and proud.