Mason took the gun, motioned to Della Street to take her notebook. "A.38-caliber Smith amp; Wesson revolver with the number stamped in the metal, C 48809," he dictated.

He pushed the catch which released the cylinder, swung out the cylinder, said, "One empty cartridge case in the cylinder."

Mason put the gun down on his desk, then after a few seconds picked it up and dropped it in his right coat pocket.

"Let's assume someone put this revolver in your bag," Mason said. "When was it done-before your altercation with George Anclitas or afterwards?"

"Before. The minute he hit me I went right to my locker and started getting my things out, then I went to my room in the motel and packed my bag."

"Could he have gone to your room while you were getting your personal things out of your locker?"

"I suppose he could have, but somehow I don't think he did. I don't know. I have an idea… it's hard to tell, Mr. Mason, but I have a definite feeling that George had decided he was going to pick a fight with me over something and get rid of me. I think the whole thing had been carefully planned and was all cut and dried."

"Did you go and see Mrs. Ellis?"

"I tried to, but I never got to see her."

"What do you mean, you tried?"

"They have a yacht. I rang up the house and tried to talk with her. I found she and her husband were going on a cruise and she was supposed to be aboard the yacht, getting it ready for the cruise. I went down to the yacht, but she wasn't on board."

"Did you go out to the yacht?"

"Yes. I got a skiff, rowed out and went around the yacht calling her name. Then I went aboard. There wasn't anyone there. I thought it over and felt that since they were going cruising together they had probably patched things up and it would be best for me to say nothing."

"This was before your altercation with George?"

"Oh, yes, quite a bit before. The fight didn't start until nearly eleven o'clock, but I felt he was just looking for an excuse to pop me one from the minute I started to work."

"What time did you go on duty?"

"Eight o'clock."

Mason said, "Look here, Miss Robb, you have had stenographic training, haven't you?"

She seemed surprised. "Yes. How did you know?"

"You were taking down my conversation yesterday when I was talking on the phone."

She flushed, seemed embarrassed, then said, "Well, yes. I- You were talking about me and… well, you were talking with Mrs. Ellis' lawyer, and I just wanted notes on what you said."

Mason said, "You told me that you'd been married?"

She nodded.

"Want to talk about it?" Mason asked.

"No."

"And you've been around?"

"I've been around. I'm twenty-four years old and thought I was smart. I won a beauty contest. I thought I was going to be a Hollywood actress. I had a darned good husband and I guess I just took him too much for granted. When he started getting restless and playing around, I played the jealous wife to perfection. I nagged him and made his home life a hell. I drove him right into her arms. I told you that before."

"And then?" Mason asked.

"Then," she said, "I just didn't seem to care. I went out and tried to get away from everything and everybody I knew. I found that good stenographic jobs were rather difficult to get. I got a job as hat-check girl in The Green Swan. We.only got to keep a very small percentage of our tips there, and George had his eye on me. He found out I liked to sing and he offered me a good job with a salary and a chance to keep all my tips- Look, Mr. Mason, your time is valuable. If I tried to tell you about all of my career, you'd have to charge me more than I could afford to pay."

"Have you ever had any trouble with the law?"

"Never."

Mason turned to Della Street, said, "If you'll excuse us, Miss Robb, I have to make a rather confidential phone call at this time." Mason walked around his desk, opened the door to the law library and nodded to Della Street.

She joined him and Mason pulled the door shut.

"Well?" Della asked.

"I don't like it," Mason said. "I have a feeling that I've been suckered into a trap."

"By Ellen Robb?" she asked.

"By George Anclitas," Mason said, "and I don't like it."

"What do you think happened?"

"George resented me when I first appeared on the scene Monday morning. He realized, however, that I had him in a position where he was hooked, and struggling or resentment wouldn't do him any good, so he capitalized on my weakness."

"Your weakness?" Della Street asked.

"Exactly," Mason said. "I should have been a hardboiled lawyer. I should have made a settlement on behalf of my client, charged her thirty-three and a third per cent of it and had proper releases signed. In place of that, I left it to her to make her own terms with George so she wouldn't have to pay me any fee, and I walked out.

"That's where George saw a heaven-sent opportunity. He started playing up to Miss Robb. He ate a little crow and told her he was sorry. He got her to stay on. All the time he was planning to jockey her into a position where she'd be in trouble, and if I tried to help her I'd be in trouble."

"The gun?" she asked.

"I think in due time he's going to charge her with stealing the gun. He may even plant some dope in her baggage."

"When do you think George will spring this trap of his?" Della asked.

"When I have filed an action on behalf of Ellen Robb."

"You intend to do that?"

"Sure I intend to do that. I have to, to protect her interests and to save my own face. The point is, Della, that I started something that is destined to raise the devil with the gambling interests. They aren't going to like that. They're going to try to smear me in some way, and Ellen Robb is their point of contact.

"You can see from the way she tells her story that they laid plans very carefully and then George punched her in the eye."

"She slapped his face," Della pointed out.

"He egged her on," Mason said.

The lawyer was thoughtful for a few minutes, then he said, "Della, we've got quite a collection of guns in the safe, guns that have been surrendered by clients from time to time. Do you suppose we have a Smith amp; Wesson in thereone of the police models with a two-and-ahalf-inch barrel?"

"Yes, I'm certain we do."

"Get the gun and bring it in here," Mason said.

Della Street went to the safe and after some two minutes returned with the gun.

The lawyer extracted one of the cartridges, pried the bullet out, shook out the powder, put the empty cartridge shell back in the revolver and, going over to the coat closet, exploded the percussion cap with the hammer. He replaced the other cartridges, put the revolver in his left coat pocket and returned to the office.

"I'm sorry we had to keep you waiting, Miss Robb," he said.

"It's all right."

"Is Ellen Robb your true name or a professional name?"

"Let's put it this way, Mr. Mason, Ellen Robb is as near my real name as you or anyone else will ever know. The man I was once married to has become a big businessman now. I wouldn't drag his name into… into the sort of work I'm doing."

"Where were you intending to go?" Mason asked, absently lighting a cigarette.

"I want to take a bus to Arizona. I have an offer of a job at Phoenix. A girl that I know has the photographic concession in a night club, and there's an opening for a girl to sell cigars, cigarettes and double as a hat-check girl. But what do I do about the gun?"

Mason reached in his left pocket, took out the gun he had placed there, weighed it in his hand as though debating what was to be done with the weapon. "I don't like to have you turn it in to the police," he said. "It seems to me that… well, I don't know… after all, we don't want to borrow trouble."