The Riddle of the Ninth Finger — Thomas W. Hanshew; Mary E. Hanshew

Share the blame of my lateness with me, Mr. Narkom, said Cleek, as he tossed aside his hat and threw the fag-end of the cigarette he was smoking out through the open window. You said in your note that there was no immediate necessity for haste, so I improved the shining hour by another spin down the river. It isn't often that duty-calls bring me to a little Eden like this. The air is like balm to-day, and as for the river-oh, the river is a sheer delight!