The Case of the Blonde Bonanza
lot of information. I know what you're doing, but I have no choice except to ride along in the hope that you will see the advantages of co-operating with me."
    "I'm afraid," Mason said, "I don't see those advantages clearly, at least at the present."
    "Well, think them over," Foster said. "You let me know the name of your client and I'll start chasing down the thing from that angle. I have facilities for that sort of investigative work. That's my specialty."
    "And then you'll want half of what my client gets?" Mason asked.
    "I told you i'll make a deal with you, Mason. I'll take twenty-five per cent and I'll do all the work. You can take twenty-five per cent as your fee and then your client will get the other half. Is that fair?"
    "No."
    "What's unfair about it?"
    "If I don't do any of the work," Mason said, "I shouldn't charge my client twenty-five per cent of the inheritance."
    "Well, you've got to live," Foster said.
    "With myself," Mason pointed out, smiling.
    "Oh, all right, all right. Think it over," Foster said. "You're going to be doing business with me sooner or later anyway."
    "How so?"
    "Because I'm going to find out what Boring is working on if it takes my last cent. I'm going to see to it that he doesn't profit by his double-crossing."
    "That's a very natural attitude for you to take," Mason said, "if you want to spend the effort and money."
    "I've got the time, I've got the money, I'll make the effort," Foster said. "Think my proposition over, Mr. Mason. Here's one of my cards. I'm located in Riverside. You can reach me on the phone at any time, day or night. Call the office during the daytime, and the night number is my residence."
    "Thanks a lot," Mason said. "I'll think it over."
    As Della Street held the corridor door open for Montrose Foster, he twisted his head with a quick, terrierlike motion, wreathed his face into a smile and hurried out into the corridor.
    The door slowly closed behind him and Della Street turned to Mason.
    "The plot thickens," she said.
    "The plot," Mason said, frowning thoughtfully, "develops lumps similar to what my friend, on a camping trip, called Thousand Island gravy."
    "Well?" she asked.
    "Let's start taking stock of the situation," he said. "Foster was the brains behind a lost heirs organization. He dug out the cases and carried the financial burden. Boring, with his impressive manner and his dignified approach, was the contact man.
    "Now then, if any unusual case had been uncovered, if any information had been turned up, one would think Foster would have been the man to do it, not Boring."
    "I see your point," Della Street said.
    "Yet Boring is the one who turns up the case and despite the fact that Foster had been directing his activities, Foster doesn't have a single lead as to what the case is. So now Foster is desperately trying to find out who the heir is and start backtracking from that angle."
    "Well," Della Street said, "it's a tribute to your thinking that you figured it out this far, largely from studying the contract."
    "I'm not handing myself any bouquets," Mason said. "I should have figured it out sooner… Now then, Foster is evidently having Boring shadowed."
    "Otherwise he wouldn't have known he came here?"
    Mason nodded.
    "And we're having Boring shadowed," Della Street said.
    "Shadows on shadows," Mason told her. "Come on, Della, we're going to have dinner on the office expense account and think things over. Then I'll drive you home."
    "Cocktails?" Della Street asked, with a smile.
    "The works," Mason said. "Somehow I feel like celebrating. I love to get into a situation where everyone is trying to double-cross everyone else."
    "What about Dianne? Do we talk with her and tell her what we have discovered?"
    "Not yet," Mason said. "We do a little thinking first; in tact, we do a lot of thinking."

CHAPTER SIX
    A routine court hearing on Tuesday morning developed into a legal battle which ran over into the afternoon and it was three-thirty that afternoon before

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