She was silent for a moment, then said, “I’m going to give you some money for the lunch check. We’ll do that on all meals we eat together. I don’t want to put you in the position of standing by while I pay the check. As a man, you’ll naturally resent—”

“Don’t worry about me,” I grinned. “All the pride I ever had has been kicked out of me. You’ve seen that for yourself.”

“You mustn’t be like that,” she protested. Her eyes showed hurt.

“Ever walked the streets,” I asked, “hungry—not able to talk to anyone, because the people you know would cut you and the people you didn’t know would think you wanted a handout? Have you ever been counted out without having had any sort of a trial?”

“No,” she said, “I don’t think I have.”

“Try it some time,” I said. “It does a lot for your pride.”

“You mustn’t let it get you down.”

“Oh no, it hasn’t,” I assured her politely.

“Now you’re being sarcastic,” she said. “I don’t think, Mr.—I’m going to call you Donald. You call me Alma. When people are mixed up in a game such as we’re mixed up in, it seems foolish to stand on a lot of formality.”

“Tell me about the game we’re mixed up in,” I invited.

There was a queer expression in her eyes, a pleading perhaps, perhaps a loneliness, and, I thought, just a glint of fear.

“Tell me, Donald, and tell me the truth. You haven’t had any previous experience as a detective, have you?”

I squeezed the last drops of coffee out of the coffee pot, and said, “Lovely weather we’re having, isn’t it?”

“That’s what I thought.”

“What is?”

She smiled. “That we’re having lovely weather.”

“That makes it unanimous,” I observed.

“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, Donald.”

“You haven’t. My feelings don’t get hurt.”

She leaned forward across the table. “I want you to help me, Donald.”

“You heard what Mrs. Cool told you,” I said, “that you could put me on a collar and lead me around on a leash if you wanted to.”

“Oh, Donald, please don’t be like that. I understand how you must have felt. But don’t take it out on me.”

“I’m not. I’m trying to tell you that this is a business arrangement.”

“I want it to be personal as well—you’re hired to serve papers on Morgan Birks, but there are a lot of things about the case you should understand, and—and I want you to help me a little bit.”

“Go on,” I said, “it’s your party.”