"I'm its keeper, sir!"

Delaney coughed explosively. He leaned down to cover his confusion. He jabbed a thumb at the bird.

"It's savage," he rumbled. "It pecked at me!"

"Easy," warned Drew, with a quick frown. "Easy, Delaney. I want to get to the facts of this case. We're wasting time."

"Go ahead, Chief."

"I've had you come down here," said Drew, turning to the valet, "in order to find out about that magpie. You had charge of it when Mr.

Stockbridge was alive?"

"Yes, sir. I fed it and kept it clean, for the--master." The valet sniffled slightly. Drew watched him with keen eyes.

"Did it repeat much of Mr. Stockbridge's conversation?" he asked.

"Repeat, sir?"

"What I'm trying to get at is, whether or not the bird was in the habit of repeating words that seemed to strike its fancy. Did it act like a parrot?"

"It's very much like a parrot, sir. Sometimes it was sulky and wouldn't say anything for days. Other times, sir, we had trouble keeping it quiet."

Drew turned in his chair and fingered a paper. "I looked up everything I can find in my library here, in regard to magpies," he said. "Is there any difference between an ordinary magpie and a Spanish one?" he added, turning.

"I don't think so, sir. They can all be taught to talk--the same as a parrot, sir."

"Then if this bird should repeat a word, or two words, over and over again it would be plausible to a.s.sume that some one had used the word or two words. I want to make myself clear," Drew added with engaging candor. "What I'm getting at is important in view of the fact that this magpie used two words after we broke down the door to the library and found Mr. Stockbridge murdered."

Delaney leaned forward.

"The words this bird used were 'Ah Sing,' as near as we can arrive at them. Did you ever hear it repeat that couplet?"

"I can't say that I have, sir."

The detective lifted his brows and stared at the cage. "Repeat that,"

he said to Delaney. "Repeat what we heard in the library."

"Ah, Sing! Ah, Sing! Ah, Sing!" boomed the operative.

The magpie ruffled its feathers and darted about the cage like a sparrow in a barrel. "Keep it up," said Drew.

"Ah, Sin! Ah, Sing! Ah, Singing!" roared Delaney.

"That'll do! You've frightened it. Let it alone for a while. We'll keep it here, Otto. I'll send it back in a few days. How's Miss Stockbridge bearing the strain, up at the house?"

"She hasn't left her room, sir. Mr. Nichols called. The Red Cross people called. There's been lots of callers, sir, but she hasn't appeared, sir. It's early, though."

Drew glanced at his watch. "That's all," he said. "You may go."

The door closed softly as the valet bowed, replaced his hat and pa.s.sed out without glancing back.

"A good servant," said Drew, rising and kneeling down beside the cage.

"Now, Delaney," he added tersely. "Now, old sleepy head, we have the key to the case locked here. I don't doubt but that you unconsciously struck the right clew when you bawled your little hymn. You said, 'Ah, Singing.' Now couldn't that be Ossining?"

"By G.o.d, Chief, it could!"

"Or, more likely, Ah! Sing Sing!"

"Who said that?"

"The bird!"

"But who taught the bird?"

"n.o.body taught it! It might have been the last thing said by Stockbridge--just before he was shot."

"And the bird repeated it--to us?"

"Certainly! A parrot or a magpie is a living phonograph. They reproduce a sound, at times, without any idea of knowing what they are saying.

This bird may have been so frightened by the shot which was fired in the library, that it recalled the words used by Stockbridge before the shot was fired. These words, in my opinion, tell us that the millionaire was 'phoning to some individual, probably the whispering-voiced man. This individual and Ah, Sing! or Ah, Sing Sing!

or Ah, Singing! or Ossining! are closely allied. Now who of Stockbridge's enemies does that fit?"

Drew rose to his feet and dusted his knees. "Is that clear?" he asked.

"Clear as mud, Chief! I don't get it yet!"

"You will," said the detective, dropping down in his chair and reaching for his papers. "See these," he added, swiveling and darting a quick glance at the bird-cage. "These, Delaney, are a list of the old man's known enemies. I have compiled this list from the secretary's statements, my own newspaper reading, the facts we gained at Morphy's trial, and from what Stockbridge told me in the library before he was slain." Drew counted the list with a steady finger. "There's seven," he said.

"Is that all! I thought there was more 'an that!"

"No! Seven is the number! He was well hated as you will see. First and foremost we have Mortimer Morphy, who is serving from ten to twenty years in state prison, with other indictments hanging over his iron-gray head. He's the captain of them all. He lacks soul, conscience and heart. 'The Wolf of the Ticker' they used to call him. I had the warden on the wire this morning. He's ready to aid justice to the limit. He says that Morphy, or rather Convict 87313, I think they call them inmates up there, is well and working. He's in charge of the books in the front office."

"He'd never keep any books for me!" declared Delaney.

Drew nodded. "Me, either," he said. "I have heard too much about his past to trust his future. Stockbridge always feared him."

"Does he fit what the black crow said?"

"He does, most certainly! Sing Sing and Morphy are linked together in every way. Morphy must have been mentioned on the wire and Stockbridge shouted, 'What, in Sing Sing?' or words to the same meaning."

"Go on," said Delaney, glancing at the magpie with round eyes.

"Then comes Vogel, who was at state's prison, but whom they transferred to the hospital at Glendale, where he is said to be dying of tuberculosis."

"I remember him. A little runt with a big nose. That might be the whispering voice, Chief, if he's got T. B."

"Hardly! I also had Glendale on the 'phone, or Harrigan did. They say Vogel is right there and is going to stay there, if fifty guards will keep him."

"Next, Chief?"