technically in the wrong, but it was a slight offense, and, after all, you
got your man. A reprimand at the most, _at the most_, was called for, and
_not_ with you, not with Paul Coquenil."

The commissary spoke with deeper feeling than he had shown in years, and
then, as if not satisfied with this, he clasped the detective's hand and
added heartily: "I'm proud of you, old friend, I honor you."

Coquenil looked at Pougeot with an odd little smile. "You take it just as
I thought you would, just as I took it myself--until to-day. It seems like
a stupid blunder, doesn't it? Well, it wasn't a blunder; _it was a
necessary move in the game_." His face lighted with intense eagerness as he
waited for the effect of these words.

"The game? What game?" The commissary stared.

"A game involving a great crime."

"You are sure of that?"

"Perfectly sure."

"You have the facts of this crime?"

"No. It hasn't been committed yet."

"Not committed yet?" repeated the other, with a startled glance. "But you
know the plan? You have evidence?"

"I have what is perfectly clear evidence _to me_, so clear that I wonder I