I opened the door the two inches that the chain bolt allowed and spoke through the crack. "Your names, please?"

"I'm Rudolph Hansen. I telephoned."

"And the others?"

"This is ridiculous! Open the doorl"

"It only seems ridiculous, Mr. Hansen. Tlere are at least a hundred people within a hundred miles, which takes in Sing Sing, who would like to tell Mr. Wolfe what they think of him and maybe prove it. I admit you're not hoods, but with four of you--names, please?"

"I'm an attomey-at-law. These are clients of mine. Mr. Oliver Buff. Mr. Patrick O'Garro. Mr. Vernon Assa."

The names were certainly no help, but I had had time to size them up, and if I knew anything at all about faces they had come not to make trouble but to get out from under some. So I opened the door, helped them put their hats and coats on the big old walnut rack, ushered them into the office, and onto chairs, sat at my desk, and told them:

"I'm sorry, gentlemen, but that's the way it is. Mr. Wolfe never comes to the, office until eleven. the rule has been broken, but it takes a lot of breaking. The only way would be for you to tell me all about it and persuade me to tackle him, and then for me to go and tell him all about it and try to persuade him. Even if I succeeded, all that would take twenty-five minutes, and it's now twenty-five to eleven, so you might as well relax."

"Your name's Goodwin," Hansen stated. His baritone didn't sound as deep as it had on the phone. I had awarded him the red leather chair near the end of Woffe's desk, but, with his long thin neck and gray skin and big ears, he clashed with it. A straight-backed painted job with no upholstery would have suited him better.