"A hundred and twenty-eight."

"In exactly five seconds," Della Street said, "take it again, and if it hasn't reached a hundred and eighty, you can cut my salary."

She vanished momentarily, to return with Ellen Robb.

Mason glanced quizzically at the determined young woman, who was wearing a long, plaid coat.

"Miss Robb, Mr. Mason," Della Street said, and then to Ellen, "If you'll slip off your coat so Mr. Mason can see what you showed me, he will… "

Ellen Robb opened the coat. Della Street 's hands at the collar of the coat pulled it back and slipped it off the girl's shoulders.

Ellen Robb stood gracefully and without the least self-consciousness. She was clad in a tight-fitting sweater, a skirt which terminated some six inches above the knees, and black leotards. A small diamond-shaped apron, about the size of a pocket handkerchief, adorned with a border of delicate lace, was tied around her waist.

Despite himself, Mason's eyes widened.

"Miss Robb," Della Street explained, "won a bathing-beauty contest which included a trip to Hollywood, a screen test and a certain amount of resulting publicity."

"The screen test?" Mason asked.

Ellen Robb smiled and said, "It was part of the publicity. I never heard anything from it again. I sometimes doubt if there was film in the camera."

"The trip to California?"

"That was real," she said. "I had to wait to travel when the plane had some extra seats. However, it was nice," and then she added, "while it lasted."

"When did it quit lasting?"

"About six months ago."

"And you've been doing?"

"Various things."

"The last," Della Street said, "was being employed as a cigarette girl and novelty singer at a place in Rowena."

"Rowena," Mason said frowning, "that's the small town where-"

"Where gambling which doesn't conflict with the state law is authorized by city ordinance," Della Street said. "The place is just big enough to get incorporated. It pays its municipal expenses from the gambling and nicking the unwary tourist who goes through the eighteen blocks of restricted speed limit faster than the law allows."

"The police force," Ellen Robb said with a smile, "consists of one man. When he's at the east end of town, he makes it a rule to issue at least one citation on his westbound trip. People who are going east are immune if they go tearing on through. On the other hand, when the city's police force is at the west end of town, people going east had better crawl along at a snail's pace or they'll have a citation."

"I take it the officer is exceedingly impartial," Mason said.

"Completely impartial. He only gets one driver on every eastbound trip, one driver on every westbound trip. In an eighteen-block restricted district there's not room for a much better average than that."

"I see you have a sense of humor," Mason said, "and now that Della has arranged the dramatic presentation of the principal figure in the case, why not sit down and tell me what's bothering you?"

Ellen Robb walked easily across the office, settled herself in the big leather chair, crossed her long legs and smiled at Perry Mason. "After all," she said, "I'm accustomed to being on display. I've had people looking me over so much I feel I could take a bath in a goldfish bowl at the corner of Seventh and Broadway without the least trace of self-consciousness____________________but that doesn't prevent me from being good and mad, Mr. Mason."

"And what are you good and mad about?" the lawyer asked.

She said, "Five months ago I got a job with George Anclitas. He's running a place in Rowena, a little night club with a room in back where there are legalized games."

"And your employment terminated when?"

"Last night, and very abruptly."

"What happened?"

"George and his right-hand man and crony, Slim Marcus, were-"

"Slim?" Mason asked.

"His name is Wilton Winslow Marcus, but everyone calls him Slim."

"Go ahead," Mason said, noticing that Della Street was making notes of the names.

"They wanted me to do some crooked work. They wanted me to look at the hands of a sucker and signal what he was holding."

"And you did?"

"I did not."

"So what happened?"

"I should have known better," she said. "George is dangerous. He has a terrific temper and he was furious. Then all of a sudden he took a long breath and smiled that oily, suave smile of his, and told me it was all right, that he'd handle the game without my help."

"And he did?"

"I don't know. I didn't last long enough to find out."

"What happened-to you, I mean?" Mason asked.

"George told me the cashier had become ill and had to leave. I was to take over the cash register and let some of my singing numbers go. Well, there was a hundredand-twenty-dollar shortage."

"While you were in charge?"

"Yes."

"A real shortage or-"

"A real shortage. The cash simply didn't balance."

"What happened to it?"

"Frankly, I don't know, Mr. Mason. I think George did a little sleight of hand on me when he inventoried the cash with me at the time I took over. George is very swift and very clever with his hands. He can deal from the bottom of the deck or deal seconds, and it's almost impossible to catch him at it. I think that when he counted the cash in the cash register with me at the time I took over, he used his sleight of hand. All I know is that when I came to balance up, there was a shortage of a hundred and twenty dollars."

"Who found it?"

"I found it."

"And what did you do?"

"I communicated immediately with him. I told him about it; that is, I told one of the waitresses to tell him. He was in this game."

"And what happened?"

"He fired me. I had about a hundred dollars coming in back wages. He handed me forty dollars and told me that was enough to get out of town on and if I wasn't across the state line within twenty-four hours, he'd have a warrant issued for me. He called me a thief and everything else in the-"

"Anyone present?" Mason asked.

"Quite a few people in the place could hear him," she said. "He wasn't particularly quiet about it."

"Know any of their names?"

"A couple. Sadie Bradford was there."

"Who is she?"

"One of the girls who does all-around work. Sometimes she acts as attendant in the powder room, sometimes she's a hat-check girl, sometimes she works in the motel office."

"There's a motel?" Mason asked.

"Yes. George and Slim own two whole city blocks. They have a motel with a swimming pool, a trout pooi, a night club and bar, and a sort of casino.

"Some of the construction is modern, some of it is rambling old-fashioned buildings. The night club, for instance, started out as an old barn. George modernized it, put on an addition, kept the barnlike atmosphere and called the place 'The Big Barn.'

"This Sadie Bradford," Mason said, "heard him call you a thief?"

"Yes."

"Would she be a witness?"

"I don't know. Her bread and butter might be at stake."

"What happened after he called you a thief and told you to get out of the state?" Mason asked.

"I wanted to go to my locker to get my street clothes, and he told me whatever was in the locker might be evidence, that he thought I had money secreted there. He handed me my coat and told me to get started."

"A rather spectacular way of discharging help," Mason said.

"He did it," she said, "for a purpose."

"To get even with you?"

"That was only part of it. They'd been playing poker for the last few weeks with this man, Helly Ellis-his first name is Helman-Helly is his nickname."

"And I take it this Helman Ellis was the man they wanted you to signal about."

"That's right. Last night they were ready to really take him to the cleaners and, of course, George was afraid that if I told what he had asked me to do, it might make trouble-so he chose this method of getting me discredited, firing me under a cloud, giving me just enough money to get out of town. He said he'd have my things packed up, put in a suitcase and sent to me at the Greyhound Bus Depot at Phoenix, Arizona. They'd be there in my name. I could call for them there."