Fer-De-Lance

Anderson began to put up an argument. He was tough, no doubt about that, he was no softy. Of course he didn’t have any real reasons or persuasions, but he had plenty of words. When he stopped Wolfe just shook his head. Anderson went on, and then again, but all he got was the same reply. I took it all down, and I had to admit there wasn’t any whine in it. He was fighting with damn poor ammunition, but he wasn’t whining.

He wrote the check in a fold he took from his pocket, holding it on his knee, with his fountain pen.

He wrote it like a good bookkeeper, precisely and carefully, without haste, and then with the same preciseness filled in the spaces on the stub before he tore the check off and laid it on Wolfe’s desk. Wolfe gave me a nod and I reached over and picked up the check and looked it over. I was relieved to see it was on a New York bank; that would save me a trip to White Plains before three o’clock.

Anderson got up. "I hope you never regret this, Wolfe. Now, when and where?"

Wolfe said, "I shall telephone."

"When?"

"Within twenty-four hours. Probably within twelve. I can get you at any time, at your office or your home?"

Anderson said, "Yes," turned on the word, and left. I got up and went to the hall and watched him out. Then I went back to the office and leaned the check up against a paperweight and blew a kiss at it.

Wolfe was whistling; that is, his lips were rounded into the proper position and air was going in and out, but there was no sound. I loved seeing him do that; it never happened when anybody was there but me, not even Fritz. He told me once that it meant he was surrendering to his emotions.

I put my notebook away and stuck the check in my pocket and pulled the chairs back where they belonged. After a little Wolfe said, "Archie, four years is a long time."

"Yes, sir. And ten grand is a lot of money. It’s nearly an hour till lunch; I’ll run down to the bank now and get their scrawl on it."

"It is raining. I thought of you this morning, adventuring beyond the city. Call for a messenger."

"Good Lord, no. I wouldn’t miss the fun of having this certified for a gallon of milk."

Wolfe leaned back, murmured, "Intrepid," and closed his eyes.

I got back in time to bust the tape at lunch.