Apparently the men were
playing and the woman was watching. But there was a dense cloud of
cigar smoke in the room, and mingled with its pungency were sweeter
scents. A number of empty champagne bottles stood upon a sideboard and
an elegant silk theatre-bag lay on a chair.
"H'm," said Kerry, glaring fiercely from the bottles to the players,
who covertly were watching him. "How you two smarts can tell a domino
from a door-knocker after cracking a dozen magnums gets me guessing."
He took up the scented bag and gravely handed it to the old woman.
"You have mislaid your bag, madam," he said. "But, fortunately, I
noticed it as I came in."
He turned the glance of his fierce eyes upon the man who had met him
on the landing, and who had followed him into the room.
"Third floor, von Hindenburg," he rapped. "Don't argue. Lead the way."
For one dangerous moment the man's brow lowered and his heavy face
grew blackly menacing. He exchanged a swift look with his friends
seated at the disguised roulette table. Kerry's jaw muscles protruded
enormously.
"Give me another answer like that," he said in a tone of cold
ferocity, "and I'll kick you from here to Paradise."
"No offense--no offense," muttered the man, quailing before the
savagery of the formidable Chief Inspector.
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