Chapter 18 PISTOLS FOR TWO

Courtlandt knocked on the studio door.

"Come in."

He discovered Abbott, stretched out upon the lounge, idly picking at the loose plaster in the wall.

"Hello!" said Abbott carelessly. "Help yourself to a chair."

Instead, Courtlandt walked about the room, aimlessly. He paused at the window; he picked up a sketch and studied it at various