“I could tell you all about this earring,” Carrol said coldly. “But it won’t do you any good to know. You know too much already.” He tossed the green earring lightly into the air and caught it. Then his gaze came to rest on the twin jutting mounds of her bosom, and a hungry look sparkled in his eyes.

“Maybe I better not waste time with you,” he mused aloud. “I can get plenty of it anywhere I want. But I better not stick around here too long.” He shrugged. “A lousy shame. But it ain’t worth risking. It would be fun to tumble you around, too.” He shook his head. “I hate to do this, sister,” he said coldly. “But I got a future to think about.”

The hand with the gun came into a higher, more deadly position. Terry tried hard to shake off a sharp, sinking sensation. Then she saw Lowry in the doorway behind Carrol. There was a heavy bronze bookend in his hand. She looked quickly back at the gun but Carrol had caught the glance she had thrown behind him and he started to turn. Lowry brought the bookend down on Carrol’s head and Carrol hit the floor with a thud. The gun fell to the carpet and Lowry kicked it aside.

“Lincoln,” Lowry said, holding the bookend up to display the carved head of the Great Emancipator on one side.

The sinking sensation became too much for Terry to cope with. She sat limply down on the bed.

There was a trickle of blood at the back of Carrol’s head. Lowry bent over him.

“I didn’t hit him awfully hard,” he said apologetically. He took the green earring from Carrol’s hand and came over to sit beside Terry.

“Are you all right?” he asked anxiously. “You worked beautifully.”

“I’m all right,” she said weakly.

“I’ll see if I can dig up a drink,” he said. “But first I think I’ll tie our pal up. He’s troublesome when he’s loose.”

He went out and came back with a roll of line cord.

“Found it in the garage,” he said.

He bent over Carrol again.

“I used to be a boy scout once. Hope I remember the knots.”

He tied Carrol’s hands behind him, then wound some rope around his feet and made half a dozen knots.

“We really ought to hang him,” he said. “He didn’t mind knowing Bob would get what’s poetically known as the supreme penalty and he knew all the time it wasn’t Bob. He’ll keep here for the time being. Now let’s get that drink if there’s one around. You not only need it, you deserve it.”

He led Terry into the living room. There was a cabinet which he opened.

“Rye,” he said. “Like rye?”