tention.' His voice went into exasperation. 'I never bothered about the color of people's eyes.'
Then he let go at her waist and her weight came down. Her head went tight and then light. She writhed. She vaguely knew he was fixing an old suitcase near her feet, but she lost the abihty to hear or to see . . .
Dick closed the closet door.
Into the phone downstairs Johnny said, 'Emilyl Emilyr
'Warrant out for him,' Grimes was barking on the far end of the line. 'Sherifi's oflfice. Copeland ought to be there, by now. Listen, we haven't got him, Johnny. We haven't absolutely got the proof.'
'What have you got?' Johnny gasped.
'Got his rented car near the Schmidt Memorial, right time. Got a man with a hat on, in the room. Got a redheaded woman saw the man with the hat come out. But she cUdn't see the face. Can't identify. Don't you admit that, mind.'
Johnny said, 'Emily!' once more, and then, although he made no further sound, he thought ttiat he was cursing in a loud voice.
Grimes said, 'Wait for the law. Then try to rattle him. Get an admission. Trick him, if you can.'
Johnny hung up. Then, he was in tlie hall and he saw Copeland there, with Marshall and Bart Bartee.
Copeland said, 'I took a cab. Deputy's slow. Close behind me, though. I hope.'
Johnny said, 'Where—?'
Bart Bartee answered, divining the real question. 'Gone up to change. Nan and Dorothy, too. He's upstairs.'
Johnny thought he was raging, shouting. Actually he made no sound with his mouth but liis feet pounded on the Bartee's stairs.
The three men followed after, exchanging panted bits of information.
Johmiy banged open Nan's door. She was in her slip, alone. She squealed, 'Johnee^ ... /'
'Where is Dick Bartee?'
'You stopl' she wailed. 'You leave us alonel'
'Where is he?'
'I won't tell you.' She stamped her foot—a child in temper.
Johnny turned and went down the hall slamming doors )pen. A place of deep shelves, a bathroom, an empty bed-oom, Dorothy's perfume . . .
He came to the door to the front bedroom that used to be ¦^athaniers. This door was locked.
'Bartee!' he shouted.
No answer.
'Water's running someplace in there,' puffed Marshall.
Bart said, 'His bathroom. He can't hear.'
Johnny hfted up his foot and began to kick at the lock of he door. Loud, hard blows.
Blanche came hurrying up the stairs.
Dick's voice said, inside the room, 'What the? Come in, vh>' don't you?'
'Unlock the doorl' bawled Johnny.
'It's not locked.'
Johnny kicked it again.
Then the key began to work inside, at the lock. Dick opened he door. 'Who locked my door?' he said, looking astonished. What's going on?'
Johnny raged through, feeling nine feet tall.
'Now, just a mlflute,' said Dick Bartee and his fists curled, lis shoulders tightened for the giving of blows.
Johnny knew about foot-fighting. Johnny's long right leg wung up and Johnny's shoe caught Dick Bartee on the ide of the jaw. He staggered back and fell.
Marshall and Copeland and Bart Bartee had come into he room.
Johnny stood, dead white v^dth fury, and he thought he was houting curses, looking down.
Dick Bartee, on the floor, presented a face of astonishment md even respect. Violence impressed him?
Then Nan was screaming. Nan, in her shp, pushed through he men, screaming, and flung herself dov^oi upon Dick.
'Shut up. Nan,' said Johnny in a voice of thunder. 'Shut ip! Be quiet!'
He wanted the noise to stop, the noise of the curses in lis brain, the thundering and roaring of his own blood. He vas almost deaf with the noises, but not quite.
His brain was getting a little signal.
And Johnny, with a mighty effort of his will, began to
