Sam Spade

You feel hot and cold at the same time, too miserable to sleep, too exhausted to stay awake.

And after four hours of it, you just give up and join the crazies pushing up the daisies.

There's only one thing I can say in favor of the Mary F. Hotchkiss Hospital for the mentally deranged.

They get the patients up early.

By 6.30 in the a.m., I had been rolled out of the sheet.

By quarter of seven, I had thawed out enough to be taken out of the straitjacket by an orderly.

I was glad to be out of it because it was very heavy, and that gave me an idea.

I picked it up and swung it.

In less time than it takes to tell, I was in the orderly's uniform, out of the violent wing, and shuffling up the walk through Dr. Birdwell's rose garden and through his cottage door.

Good morning, Dr. Birdwell.

I was trying to tell you yesterday when I was so rudely interrupted.

I didn't say that.

All right.

My client is an inventor who claims that Mr. Grierson stole a formula from him, got a patent on it, and stands to profit to the tune of about a million bucks.

The last two items check.

I don't know whether Grierson's a crook or not.

He's into you for 50,000 bucks, so you might know.

That's a fair description.

Wait a minute.

Chemistry professor, lab explosion?