The gambler continued to smile blandly, refusing to take offense. "I admit I've never hired you on a job of my own," he said. "But many a time a guy has said to me 'Who is the best private d.i.c.k in town?' and I says 'Chris Nichols,' just like that. It has brought you some nice jobs."

"I don't believe I've ever taken any case through your influence, Max Lynch. But that's neither here nor there. What's on your mind?"

The gambler moved forward in his chair.

"Well, Nichols, it's like this. Dutch O'Neil is in the jug for pasting a dude customer of mine over at my casino last night. Dutch is one of my bouncers and this fellow started upsetting the faro tables after he had lost his roll. Dutch bounced him out so hard the fellow is in the hospital with a broken jaw."

"And you want me to send the man some flowers?" the detective asked sarcastically.

Max Lynch ignored the thrust. "It's this way," he explained. "The guy turned out to be a big shot of the town--a broker or something. And he has turned so much heat on the judge the poor old fossil is afraid to let Dutch go. Now it happens this broker is an old friend and client of yours--George Kirby. Know him?"

"Yes, I know him very well."

"All right, you go and see George and soften him up. If you can get him to drop his charges and have the case nolled there's half a grand in it for you."

"I'll have nothing to do with it."

"I'll raise the ante," the gambler offered. "Seven hundred and fifty."

"There's not enough of your kind of money in this town to employ me on a crooked case like this."

"A real good guy, ain't you?" Lynch sneered.

"No, not good. Just sanitary."

The gambler's face flushed with anger as he arose and edged toward the door.

"O.K., chief," he said mockingly. "And don't worry about that 'sanitary' stuff. Just wait till our clean-up gang hears about this!"

He slammed the door after him and Penny could hear his heels clicking angrily as he walked rapidly down the long corridor to the elevator.

She quickly came out of hiding.

"Dad, that was Max Lynch--the one they call 'Diamond Max,' wasn't it?"

she inquired anxiously.

"Yes," the detective responded soberly. "I guess I shouldn't have permitted you to listen to the conversation."

"I'm glad you did. Only it made the chills run down my spine to hear that man talk. He seemed so sinister."

"Max isn't a very pleasant character, Penny."

"What did he mean by that last remark? It sounded like a threat."

"I imagine it was a threat, Penny."

"Why don't you turn the man over to the police, Dad, for attempted bribery?"

"I wish I could," her father answered. "Max is a slippery eel to catch. The police have been trying for years to get evidence against him--they always fail."

"But he deliberately tried to bribe you, Dad. Surely that ought to be enough to land him in jail."

Mr. Nichols shook his head as he thoughtfully toyed with a penknife.

"Max surrounds himself with highly paid, crooked lawyers and hired witnesses. He is clever and cagey. Several times he has been brought to trial but always he escapes."

"Why do they call him 'Diamond Max'?" Penny questioned curiously.

"He's been known by that name ever since I can remember. Perhaps you noticed that the man wore a number of diamonds?"

"He was loaded with them. Were they genuine?"

"Oh, yes. Max has always had a pa.s.sion for jewels, especially diamonds."

"I suppose he came by them dishonestly."

"Possibly, although he could easily afford to buy fine jewels with the profit derived from his casino."

"The place is called the Red Rose, isn't it?" Penny remarked.

"Yes, it's a disgrace to the community."

"Then why hasn't it been closed?"

Mr. Nichols smiled tolerantly at his daughter. "The Red Rose is located just over the county line," he explained. "It happens that the sheriff has a very charitable att.i.tude toward Lynch's gambling enterprises."

"Then there's nothing to be done?"

"Not very much I fear. What we need is a new sheriff."

"Promise me you'll be careful," Penny urged anxiously. "I'm afraid of what Max may attempt to do."

Mr. Nichols smiled confidently as he locked his desk.

"His threat was an idle one I think. Don't give it a moment's thought.

Your old Dad can take care of himself."

Penny sighed as she followed her father to the elevator. She knew that she should dismiss the matter from her mind yet that was exactly what she could not do. Ever since she could remember Mr. Nichols had lived a dangerous life. He had trailed and captured daring criminals and during his lengthy career, first as a police officer and later as a private detective, had received many threats. Several times he had escaped violence by a narrow margin. Usually Penny did not worry, but Max Lynch had impressed her as a man who would seek retaliation.

The girl was so preoccupied as they drove toward the Nichols' home that the detective commented upon her silence.

"Forget it," he advised kindly. "I know how to deal with Max's strong-arm squad."

Penny halted the car on the driveway and the detective alighted to open the garage doors. She drove in and snapped off the ignition. Together she and her father walked up the stepping-stone path to the rear entrance of the house.

The Nichols' residence was not imposing in appearance but the well-shrubbed grounds gave it a home-like air. A gra.s.s tennis court occupied one part of the lot while the opposite side was devoted to Mrs. Gallup's flowers. Since the death of Penny's mother, the kindly woman had served as a faithful housekeeper.

Mrs. Gallup, her plump arms covered with flour, was making biscuits when Penny and her father entered the neat kitchen.

"I'm slow tonight," she apologized. "All afternoon agents and peddlers have been coming to the door. It was enough to drive a body crazy.