his house in an automobile. I'll wait here."

The chief smiled. "You're in a hurry, aren't you? Well, so are we. Will you
come with me, Hauteville?"

"If you like."

"And I'll go, if you don't mind," put in the commissary. "I may have some
influence with the _préfet_."

"He won't refuse me," declared Simon. "After all, I am responsible for the
pursuit of criminals in this city, and if I tell him that I absolutely need
Paul Coquenil back on the force, as I do, he will sign the commission at
once. Come, gentlemen."

A moment later the three had hurried off, leaving Coquenil and Gibelin
together.

"Have one?" said M. Paul, offering his cigarette case.

"Thanks," snapped Gibelin with deliberate insolence, "I prefer my own."

"There's no use being ugly about it," replied the other good-naturedly, as
he lighted a cigarette. His companion did the same and the two smoked in
silence, Gibelin gnawing savagely at his little red mustache.

"See here," broke in the latter, "wouldn't you be ugly if somebody butted
into a case that had been given to you?"

"Why," smiled Coquenil, "if he thought he could handle it better than I