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found that I really meant it he would know what he was up against and go on from there. The point was this, that he had shown what he really thought of me. He had shown that rather than lose me he would do something that he wouldn't have done for any fee anybody could name. He would rather have gone without beer for a week than admit it, but now he was a fugitive from justice in a murder case and needed me. So he had to let me know, but he wanted it understood that that aspect of the matter was not to be mentioned. The assumption would be that he had gone to Bottweill's instead of Long Island because he loved to dress up like Santa Claus and tend bar.
    A cell in my brain tried to get the right of way for the question, considering this development, how big a raise should I get after New Year's'but I waved it to the curb.
    I thought over other aspects. He had worn the gloves so I couldn't recognize his hands. Where did he get them'What time had he got to Bottweill's and who had seen him'Did Fritz know where he was going'How had he got back home'But after a little of that I realized that he hadn't sent me up to my room to ask myself questions he could answer, so I went back to considering whether there was anything else he wanted me to think over alone. Deciding there wasn't, after chewing it thoroughly, I got Here and Now and the gloves from the dresser, went to the stairs and descended, and entered the office.
    From behind his desk, he glared at me as I crossed over.
    'Here it is,' I said, and handed him the book. 'And much obliged for the gloves.' I held them up, one in each hand, dangling them from thumb and fingertip.
    'It is no occasion for clowning,' he growled.
    'It sure isn't.' I dropped the gloves on my desk, whirled my chair, and sat. 'Where do we start'Do you want to know what happened after you left?'
    'The details can wait. First where we stand. Was Mr. Cramer there?'
    'Yes. Certainly.'
    'Did he get anywhere?'
    'No. He probably won't until he finds Santa Claus. Until they find Santa Claus they won't dig very hard at the others. The longer it takes to find him the surer they'll be he's it. Three things about him: nobody knows who he was, he beat it, and he wore gloves. A thousand men are looking for him. You were right to wear the gloves, I would have recognized your hands, but where did you get them?'
    'At a store on Ninth Avenue. Confound it, I didn't know a man was going to be murdered!'
    'I know you didn't. May I ask some questions?'
    He scowled. I took it for yes. 'When did you phone Bottweill to arrange it?'
    'At two-thirty yesterday afternoon. You had gone to the bank.'
    'Have you any reason to think he told anyone about it?'
    'No. He said he wouldn't.'
    'I know he got the costume, so that's okay. When you left here today at twelve-thirty did you go straight to Bottweill's?'
    'No. I left at that hour because you and Fritz expected me to. I stopped to buy the gloves, and met him at Rusterman's, and we had lunch. From there we took a cab to his place, arriving shortly after two o'clock, and took his private elevator up to his office. Immediately upon entering his office, he got a bottle of Pernod from a drawer of his desk, said he always had a little after lunch, and invited me to join him. I declined. He poured a liberal portion in a glass, about two ounces, drank it in two gulps, and returned the bottle to the drawer.'
    'My God.' I whistled. 'The cops would like to know that.'
    'No doubt. The costume was there in a box. There is a dressing room at the rear of his office, with a bathroom-'
    'I know. I've used it.'
    'I took the costume there and put it on. He had ordered the largest size, but it was a squeeze and it took a while. I was in there half an hour or more. When I re-entered the office it was empty, but soon Bottweill came, up the stairs from the workshop, and helped me with the mask and wig. They had barely been adjusted when Emil Hatch and Mrs. Jerome and her son appeared, also coming up the stairs