"Or Fred Dunmore, or you.
If you did it, I'd advise you to confess now; it'll save everybody,
yourself included, a lot of trouble."
Varcek looked at him, fascinated. "Why, I believe you regard all of us
just as I do my fruit flies!" he said at length. "You know, Colonel Rand,
you are not a comfortable sort of man to have around." He rose slowly.
"Naturally, I'll not mention this interview. I suppose you won't want to,
either?"
"I'd advise you not to talk about it, at that," Rand said. "The situation
here seems to be very delicate, and rather explosive.... Oh, as you go
out, I'd be obliged to you for sending Walters up here. I still have this
work here, and I'll need his help."
After Varcek had left him, Rand looked in the desk drawer, verifying his
assumption that the .38 he had seen there was gone. He wondered where his
own was, at the moment.
When the butler arrived, he was put to work bringing pistols to the desk,
carrying them back to the racks, taking measurements, and the like. All
the while, Rand kept his eye on the head of the spiral stairway.
Finally he caught a movement, and saw what looked like the top of a
peak-crowned gray felt hat between the spindles of the railing. He eased
the Detective Special out of its holster and got to his feet.
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