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'
'It was an electric fire.' Carradine stretched out his long legs in a relaxing movement and began to laugh. 'Brother, I feel better already. I can't wait to land the British public one in the kisser with a few home truths. Carradinc the First is just raging in my blood.'
'A very virulent fever, it sounds.'
'He was the most ruthless old blaggard that ever felled timber. He started as a logger and ended up with a Renaissance castle, two yachts, and a private car. Railroad car, you know. It had green silk curtains with bobbles on them and inlay woodwork that had to be seen to be believed. It has been popularly supposed, not least by Carradine the Third, that the Carradine blood was growing thin. But right now I'm all Carradine the First. I know just how the old boy felt when he wanted to buy a particular forest and someone said that he couldn't have it. Brother, I'm going to town.'
'That's nice,' Grant said, mildly. 'I was looking forward to that dedication.' He took his writing-pad from the table and held it out. 'I've been doing a policeman's summing-up. Perhaps it may help you when you come to your peroration.'
Carradine took it and looked at it with respect.
'Tear it off and take it with you. I've finished with it.'
'I suppose in a week or two you'll be too busy with real investigations to care about a-an academic one,' Carradine said, a little wistfully.
'
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