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Updated: May 23, 2025
"I didn't want him." "What did you want?" "A room that had been lived in." She didn't need to add a word to that. I got her in the instant. That examination of hers in Clayte's room at the St. Dunstan; the crisp, new-looking bedding, the unworn velvet of the chair cushions; the faded nap of the carpet, quite perfect, while that in the hall had just been renewed.
A description of Edward Clayte? Every man at the table even old Sillsbee sat up and opened his mouth to give one; but Knapp beat them to it, with, "Clayte's worked in this bank eight years. We all know him. You can get just as many good descriptions as there are people on our payroll or directors in this room and plenty more at the St. Dunstan, I'll be bound." "You think so?" I said wearily.
"When this cipher this nought this zero manages to annex to himself a million dollars that doesn't belong to him, his nothingness gains a specific meaning. The zero is an important factor in mathematics. I think we have placed a digit before the long string of ciphers of Clayte's nothingness." "Nothing and nothing make nothing." I spoke more brusquely because I was irritated by her logic.
Any one, I would have said, might see with half an eye that Worth Gilbert had bought Clayte's suitcase so that he could get a thrill out of hunting for it. Cummings I knew had in charge all the boy's Pacific Coast holdings; and since his mother's death during the first year of the war, these were large.
Dunstan, above Clayte's window I asked the clerk there how long since the building had been reroofed, because there were nicks made by that hook and half filled with tar that had been slushed up against the coping and into the lowest dents. You see what that means?" "That Clayte or some accomplice of his had been using the route more than four years ago. Yes."
"And if he wins out, he makes quite a respectable pile," I added. "What I want of you now," he explained, "is to go with us to Clayte's room at the St. Dunstan the room he disappeared from look it over and tell us how he got out and where he went." He made his request light-heartedly; she considered it after the same fashion; it seemed to me all absurdity. "To-morrow morning Sunday," she said.
The girl's eyes shone under the wisp of veil twisted around a knowing little turban. She liked the taste of the adventure. "That man came this way with that suitcase," she breathed, " maybe set it down right there when he pressed the button just as Mr. Boyne did now!" It was a fine morning; the shades had been left up, and Clayte's room when I opened the door was ablaze with sunlight.
And Worth did take his time admiring her; I saw that; but all he found to say was, "Bobs, I suppose Jerry's told you that he's treed Clayte at Tiajuana?" "No," said Barbara, "he hasn't said a word. But I'm just as much surprised at Clayte's being caught as I was at Skeels escaping capture." "Say that over and say it slow," Vandeman was good natured.
Captain Gilbert came here to Santa Ysobel that Saturday night as we've got witnesses to testify had a row with his father we've got witnesses for that, too the word money passed between them again and again in that quarrel and then the young man had the nerve to walk into our bank next morning with his father's entire holdings of our stock in Clayte's suitcase Boyne, you're crazy!"
"Two years I worked as a messenger for the San Francisco Trust Company," Clayte's voice ran right on past Winchell's interruption, "a model employee, straight as they come; then decided they were too big for me to tackle, and used their recommendation to get a clerk's job with the Van Ness Avenue concern.
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