The very fact of having nothing definite upon which to work was getting on Carroll’s usually equable nerves.  He had little to say to Leverage regarding the case, for the simple reason that there was very little which could be said.  Leverage, on his part, watched the detective with keen interest, sympathizing with him, and exhibiting implicit confidence, but the men didn’t agree upon the correct procedure.  Leverage was all for arresting Barker and charging him with the murder.

“You’ll learn some facts then, Carroll,” he insisted.

But Carroll shook his head.

“It wouldn’t get us anywhere, Eric.  We couldn’t prove him guilty.”

“No-o, but that don’t make no difference.  Of course the law says a man is innocent until you prove he ain’t, but that ain’t what the law does.  If we arrest this here Mr. William Barker, everybody’s going to believe he’s guilty until he proves himself innocent.”

“And you think he can’t do that?”

“No!  At least I’m gambling on this—­Barker can’t prove himself innocent without telling who is guilty!”

But Carroll refused to arrest the man.  He knew that Leverage disapproved, but he also knew that Leverage was sportsman enough to let him handle the case in his own way.

On one of his long strolls through the downtown section of the city—­daily walks which helped him to think connectedly—­David Carroll felt a hand on his arm and heard an eager feminine voice in his ear: 

“Gracious goodness!  If it isn’t the perfectly marvelous Mr. David Carroll!”

Carroll bowed instinctively.  Then his lips expanded into the first wholesome smile he had experienced in forty-eight hours.

“Miss Evelyn Rogers!”

“You did recognize me, didn’t you?  How simply splendiferous!  I’m awfully glad we met!”

“So am I, Miss Rogers.”

She dropped her voice confidentially.

“Will you do me a great favor—­an enormous favor?”

“Certainly.  What is it?”

“It’s this.”  She looked around carefully.  “I told some of my friends that you are a friend of mine, and they don’t believe it.  They’re over yonder in that ice-cream place.  Now, what I want you to do for me is to show ’em.  I want you to take me over there and buy me an ice-cream soda!”

Carroll laughed aloud as he took her by the arm and piloted her through the traffic.  He asked only one question: 

“What flavor?”

CHAPTER X

A DISCOVERY

If Evelyn Rogers, amply clad as to fur around the neck but somewhat under-dressed as to lace stockings about the legs, had desired to create a sensation among her friends, she more than succeeded.  She preceded Carroll into the place, her eyes glowing pridefully, skirted the table at which her friends sat, then stopped abruptly, forcing Carroll to do likewise.