He was smoking a cigar, but his total absorption in
the topic under discussion was revealed by the fact that from a pocket
in his dinner jacket he had taken out a portion of tobacco, had laid it
in a slip of rice paper, and was busily rolling one of his eternal
cigarettes.
"I might be enabled to come to one," replied Harley, "if you would
answer a very simple question."
"What is this question?"
"It is this--Have you any idea who nailed the bat's wing to your door?"
Colonel Menendez's eyes opened very widely, and his face became more
aquiline than ever.
"You have heard my story, Mr. Harley," he replied, softly. "If I know
the explanation, why do I come to you?"
Paul Harley puffed at his pipe. His expression did not alter in the
slightest.
"I merely wondered if your suspicions tended in the direction of Mr.
Colin Camber," he said.
"Colin Camber!"
As the Colonel spoke the name either I became victim of a strange
delusion or his face was momentarily convulsed. If my senses served me
aright then his pronouncing of the words "Colin Camber" occasioned him
positive agony. He clutched the arms of his chair, striving, I thought,
to retain composure, and in this he succeeded, for when he spoke again
his voice was quite normal.
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