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“Drop that gun,” he said.

There was the sound of a struggle behind him as Samson flung himself on the bullnecked individual. The gun in front of Sidney Zoom blazed once.

Zoom flung himself to one side with the agility of a fencing master. The bullet struck a glancing course along the side of the hallway, ripping off plaster, thudding into a lath, glancing to one side and down.

A gun boomed at the end of the corridor. There was the sound of a thudding blow.

Sidney Zoom’s long arm shot out. His fingers closed about the wrist that held the blued-steel. He gave a swift jerk.

The gun roared once more.

A tawny flash of four-footed motion sprinted along the hallway, then leapt into the air, bloodied muzzle pointed at the throat of the man who had posed as Finley Carter.

The man saw the dog coming in time to fling his left arm in front of his throat.

Then the hurtling dog struck with an impact that smashed the man backwards to the floor. Zoom held the gun in his hand as the man went backward?

“Watch him, Rip!” he shouted.

Zoom turned toward the place where Samson was battling with the bull-necked individual. That man was clubbing his gun, striking Samson indiscriminately about the head and shoulders.

Zoom jumped over the inert police dog that lay with tom throat and glazed eyes in the center of the corridor, flung up his gun.

“Hands up!” he shouted.

The heavy shoulders swung about. The gun snapped up.

“Damn you!” gritted the heavy-set man.

Samson swung his fist from the vicinity of his hip pocket, giving it every ounce of force he had. The blow crashed to the big man’s jaw, rocked him back to his heels. Samson’s left swung to the belt buckle. He steadied himself and crashed home another right.

The gun dropped from the limp fingers as the man swayed, then toppled backwards.

Samson wiped blood from his forehead, grinned at Sidney Zoom through cracked lips.

“Why the devil didn’t you use that gun I gave you?” Zoom demanded.

Samson’s grin stretched wider, to show a bleeding cavity where a tooth had been knocked from the front of his face.

“You never did ask much about me,” he said, “but I lost my job for okaying a forged check. I was a department manager in a hardware store. This is the guy that gave me the bum check.”

“He weighs fifty pounds more than you do,” Zoom remonstrated, “and you haven’t been eating regularly for a month or two. You should have used the gun.”

“He could have weighed a hundred pounds more than I did, and I’d still have taken him to pieces,” Samson retorted.

Zoom turned back to where Rip was standing over the prostrate form of the man who had posed as Finley Carter.

“Bust open that door, Samson,” he said, “I think we’ll find the real Finley Carter held in there as a prisoner.”

Samson tried the door. It was locked.

Zoom nodded a signal. The men crashed their shoulders against the door, which splintered free of the lock, shivered on its hinges.

A man with his legs tied to a heavy chair waved his arms and snarled irascibly.

“It certainly is time you rescued me. A hell of a fine bunch of police you are! Or, I suppose you call yourselves detectives, since you don’t wear uniforms, but I’m a taxpayer and a big taxpayer. I’m entitled to better protection than this. I’ve been a prisoner for days and you are just now getting here...”

Sidney Zoom’s grin was malicious.

“You’re wrong,” he interrupted. “We’re not just getting here, we’re just leaving.”

With a nod to Samson, he slammed the door shut in the face of the expostulating prisoner.

Chapter VII

Curious Accounting

Sidney Zoom sprawled at long-legged ease on the deck of his yacht, watched the sun glint on the sparkling waves, felt the swing of the craft as it rolled to the long, lazy swells.

Seated opposite him, his lips chewing nervously at a cigar, was a hatchet-faced individual from whose spectacles dangled a long black ribbon which from time to time was swung gently by the warm breeze.

“As your attorney,” he said, “I would say that you had not violated the law. A forgery is not a criminal act unless it is perpetrated with the intention to deceive, and the fact that you advised the bank at the time you presented the check to be cashed that it was forged probably constitutes a defense.

“It is, moreover, apparent that you did not profit in any way by any of the forgeries. You used them to detect crime, instead of to perpetrate crime.”

Zoom smiled, elevated his long legs and placed his feet on the rail of the yacht.

“On the other hand,” said the attorney, “the police are making a widespread inquiry for the purpose of ascertaining the identity of the tall individual who entered into the case. They have a very good description of you.”

“Description,” said Sidney Zoom, “don’t mean anything. I’m on the point of taking a month’s cruise to tropical waters, anyway.”

The attorney nodded his head slowly.

“As between Finley Carter and the bank, however,” he said, “there is a very peculiar legal problem. Carter received most of the money that had been withdrawn from his account when the police nabbed Harry Exter and his confederates. The man who posed as Finley Carter was an actor who had spent some time studying Carter’s voice until he could mimic it perfectly. Of course, Exter got the idea when he learned that Carter was in the habit of signing blank checks drawn on his housekeeping account, and leaving them in the hands of his secretary. Carter, of course, thought he was protected by the fact that he never kept over five hundred dollars in that bank. He didn’t realize what would happen if some crooks got possession of all of his mail and made deposits in the account. It only required a rubber stamp to deposit the money to Carter’s account.

“On the other hand, the checks that made the withdrawals were genuine checks, with the exception of the forged check which cleaned out the account. But, as I have stated, the bank was advised at the time that check was presented that it was probably a forgery. Nevertheless, the check was cashed and the money deposited to the account of Nell Benton.”

Sidney Zoom stretched his arms above his head, took a deep inhalation of the fresh ocean air.

“Well,” he said, “that was what I wanted to see you about particularly. I don’t know just how repentant Carter will be for the wrong that he did Nell Benton, or just how grateful he will be to Burt Samson for the part Samson played in rescuing him from the crooks. I want you, therefore, to represent the interests of Miss Benton.”

“You mean in asking a reward?” the lawyer inquired.

“No,” said Sidney Zoom, “in tactfully explaining to Mr. Finley Carter that she has a very good cause of action against him for defamation of character.

“You might further explain to all parties concerned that there is quite a question as to the legality of the deposit in Miss Benton’s name, inasmuch as the legal questions seem somewhat confused. In other words, what I want you to do is to add confusion to the legal question.”

“To what end?” inquired the attorney.

“To the end,” said Sidney Zoom, “of securing a very good cash settlement from Mr. Finley Carter — a settlement which will take care of Burt Samson, as well as Nell Benton.”

“You had some figure in mind?” inquired the attorney cautiously.

“Yes,” said Sidney Zoom, “I thought that after the legal questions had been properly confused, a settlement might be made for ten thousand dollars. That could be effected by having Nell Benton execute a complete release and make a check in favor of Finley Carter for two hundred and ninety-one dollars and fifteen cents, because, you see, the ten thousand has already been deposited to her account.”