"That," Graham laughed, "is why you sneaked, why you didn't make any noise, why you lost your temper
when we caught you at it? What about it, Mr. District Attorney?"
Robinson stepped forward.
"Nothing else to do, Mr. Graham. He's too slippery. I'll put him in a safe place."
"You mean," Paredes cried, "that you'll arrest me?"
"You've guessed it. I'll lock you up as a material witness."
Paredes swung on Bobby.
"You'll permit this, Bobby? You'll forget that I am a guest in your house?"
Bobby flushed.
"Why have you stayed? What were you doing up there? Answer those questions. Tell me what you want."
Paredes turned away. He took a cigarette from his pocket and lighted it. His fingers were not steady. For the
first time, it became evident to Bobby, Paredes was afraid. Rawlins came back from the telephone. He took in
the tableau.
"What's the rumpus?"
"Run this man to Smithtown," Robinson directed. "Lock him up, and tell the judge, when he's arraigned in the
morning, that I want him held as a material witness."
"He was at the hotel in Smithtown all right," Rawlins said.
He tapped Paredes's arm.
"You coming on this little joy ride like a lamb or a lion? Say, you'll find the jail about as comfortable as the
New Hotel."
Paredes smiled. The evil and dangerous light died in his eyes. He became all at once easy and impervious
again.
"Like a lamb. How else?"
"I'm sorry, Carlos," Bobby muttered. "If you'd only say something! If you'd only explain your movements! If
you'd only really help!"
Again Paredes shrugged his shoulders.
"Handcuffs?" he asked Rawlins.
Rawlins ran his hands deftly over the Panamanian's clothing.
"No armed neutrality for me," he grinned. "All right. We'll forget the bracelets since you haven't a gun."
Puffing at his cigarette, Paredes got his coat and hat and followed the detective from the house