open. Some old girl—Morley’s secretary for thirty years—has been running it, with some extra help now and then. Well, as I get the story, there was only one heir to whatever was left. They finally located him back East, and now he’s out here and is going to take over.”
“He in the business too?” queried Olsen. This brought a short laugh from the police officer. “Well, it all depends on what business you mean. He has ‘been in the theater,’ as he puts it, but it seems to me that he was actually a chorus man in a musical show.”
This brought further grins and laughter around the table.
“They say that some of those guys are all man,” volunteered the gruff cafe man.
“Not this one,” put in Starr. “He came in to get a license and a gun permit. A very pretty fellow with a roving eye. Of course, I could be wrong, but I think …”
“Don’t tell us that he made a pass at you, Captain,” wryly put in the poker-faced Senator, while more or less obviously looking over the officer’s very regular and very masculine features. This, and the Senator’s droll manner, brought more hilarious laughter from the group.
“How about it, Starr? Is it, or isn’t it?” asked Olsen.
Pausing speculatively before answering, the Captain said, “Hell, you can’t always tell these days. But when I asked this character what he needed a gun for, he just rolled his eyes, put his hand on his hip, tossed back his wavy hair and shrieked at me that he’d have a helluva time beating off some attacker with a mascara brush …”
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