Then, with his characteristic enthusiasm, he exclaimed:--
"Something will have to be done!"
"Wonderful!" I murmured. "Here I've worried over the thing for two
months, studied it in court, studied it in my office, studied it in
bed--and couldn't make a thing out of it. All at once I am guided to a
welling fount of wisdom, and the thing is solved in a flash. Solon, you
dazzle me! Denney forever!"
"Now, don't be funny, Calvin--I mean, don't try to be--" but I arose to
go.
"You've solved it, Solon. _Something must be done._ There's the
difference between intuition and mere clumsy ratiocination. In another
month I might have found this out for myself, but you divine it
instantly. You're a clairvoyant. Now I'm going to find Billy Durgin.
You've done the heavy work--you've discovered that something must be
done. What we need now, I suppose, is a bright young detective to tell
us what it is."
But Solon interrupted soothingly. "There, there, something must be done,
and, of course, I'll do it."
"What will you do?"
Even then I think he did not know.
"We must use common sense in these matters," he said, to gain time, and
narrowed his gaze for an interval of study.
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