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126 attacked him more than once since he took hold of the case, as if a door had suddenly been shut in his face.

Rannie had turned his head away and closed his eyes as if to indicate that as far as he was concerned the interview was over, and Odell rose.

"Well, I won't bother you any more now; and I'll see that my men do not. I understand that one of them blundered in a while ago."

"No. Old Socks here, short for Socrates, you know, invited him in. Didn't you, old boy?"

He nodded toward the parrot's cage, and the bird still hanging upside down ruffled its feathers and remarked dolorously:

"It burns."

"What is he talking about?" Odell walked over to the cage and poked a tentative finger between the bars.

"Look out, he'll give you a nasty nip," Rannie warned. "He doesn't like strangers—well, what do you know about that?"

The parrot had hooded his eyes in speculative fashion, shifted his feet, and finally sidled over and presented his head to be scratched. For a full minute Odell stood there with his back to the couch, his eyes traveling swiftly over the cage and its inmate. Then he turned and nodding casually to Rannie started for the door.

"Wise old bird," he commented.

"You'll drop in and let me know how you get on?" the boy asked almost eagerly.

Odell promised, and closing the door softly behind him he went downstairs. The last two minutes in the invalid's room had served to dash to chaos all his previous