Fred counted faces and said quickly, 'Who's with Mr. Whitlock?'
'He's asleep.'
'Alone in the room?' Fred set down the suitcase he carried.
The doctor said, 'Why, yes, I. . .'
'You shouldn't do that,' Fred said severely and went upstairs fast.
'Am I seeing things?' said the good-looking boy, 'or do I see Professor Duff?'
'You do,' Duff said. 'Killeen, isn't it? Five years ago.'
'The famous academic memory for names and faces,' Art Killeen said. 'How are you, sir? It's good to see you. What are you doing in these parts?'
'Hunting the American Indian,' said Duff pleasantly, and the blond boy laughed.
'No doubt you people are wondering what on earth I'm doing here,' Killeen said. 'I happen to be Mr. Whitlock's lawyer. I had a wire yesterday asking me to come up. He's here, isn't he?'
'Yes,' said the doctor. 'Yes, of course. But he had an unpleasant experience last night. I'm afraid he is asleep, Mr. Killeen, and I don't think he ought to be awakened.'
Curiosity shone in the lawyer's eyes, but he suppressed it. 'Isn't Miss Brennan here, too?' Killeen turned to Duff. 'You remember Alice Brennan?'
'I do,' said Duff. 'I've come to see her myself. But this house is asleep. We must aU wait Meanwhile, doctor . . .'
Susan said, 'Have you had breakfast, Mr. Killeen? I'm sure Josephine can find you a cup of coffee. I don't think they'U mind.' She carried him off to the dining room.
The doctor looked uncertainly at Duff. He cleared his throat to make a remark, searching for a polite phrase.
Duff said, his quiet voice asking for the truth, 'What actually happened?'
'I don't quite know,' Dr. Follett said uncomfortably. 'AH I know is that something went wrong with the heating arrangements, and a considerable amount of coal gas poured into Mr. Whitlock's room by way of his register. The house has a hot-air system. I suppose . . .'
'Was it an accident?' No excitement or horrid speculation. Just a question.
The doctor squirmed. 'I don't know. Perhaps it was. I really couldn't say.'
'Has anyone been in the cellar?''
'Oh, yes, yes . . .'
'I'd like very much to see the cellar,' Duff said.
The doctor stiffened. 'I'm afraid only the Misses Whitlock can give you permission, and they are not awake yet. Are you a heating expert, Mr. Duff?'
'I am a detective,' Duff said sweetly.
'Oh.' The doctor's eyes fell, came sharply back to Duff's face, and fell again.
'I wonder'—Duff's voice was the voice of the tempter—'if I could find the cellar. Do you know where the stairs are?'
The doctor turned his palms up. 'I am in a very awkward position in this house, Mr. Duff. I am Mr. Whitlock's doctor, but I do not attend his sisters. Nor have, for many years. I'm afraid I can't help you.'
'I think perhaps you can help me,' Duff said with his sudden appealing smile, 'but not here and not now. Suppose I call on you in your office, sometime later?'
'Very happy,' said Dr. Follett with relief. 'Good. Do that. I must get along. I have a call to make, and I must sleep, myself. But I shall expect you. Yes, thank you. Good-by.'
Dr. Follett went out. He was a man bursting with talk but muzzled, unable to say anything.
Duff slipped his eye aroimd the hall, identified the exits and entrances, the two archways to the two front rooms, the bathroom door under the stairs, and the dining-room at right angles to it. Through this he went.
Susan was chatting pleasantly with young Killeen.
'Everybody's asleep except the chauffeur,' Duff said. 'I'd like very much to talk to him, Mrs. Innes.'
'Then I'll just go and sit with Innes myself,' she said promptly and went briskly off.
Killeen said, 'She's Innes's mother, she says. Amazing. Pleasant old soul, though.'
'At least,' said Duff gently. 'Is Innes going to change his will?'
'I don't know. Maybe so. What's going on up here? For instance, you're not looking for Indians,' Killeen challenged with an air of shrewdness, 'in this house.'
'I lead a double life,' said Duff cheerfully. 'Sometunes the two halves coincide.'
'I've heard what the other half of you double life is, lately. Well, well. . .' Killeen was being the old pal, on the inside track, man-to-man stuff.
Duffs mild eye put him in his place. Art Kileen got ten years younger m as many seconds. 'I suppose,' he murmured to his coffee cup, 'I had better just wait until Whitlock can see me.'
