"That girl," he said, "had better go back to bed. My men are all
around this house and, until the police come, will detain her."
He shook the jewelled fingers of Mrs. Earle warmly. "I thank you,"
he said; "I know you meant well. I know you wanted to help me,
but"--he shrugged his shoulders--"my duty!"
As he walked down the driveway to his car his shoulders continued
to move.
But Mrs. Earle did not wait to observe this phenomenon. Rid of his
presence, she leaped, rather than ran, up the stairs and threw open
the door of her office.
As she entered, two men followed her. One was a young man who held
in his hand an open note-book, the other was Tim Meehan, of
Tammany. The latter greeted her with a shout.
"We heard everything he said " he cried. His voice rose in torment.
"An' we can't use a word of it! He acted just like we'd oughta
knowed he'd act. He's HONEST! He's so damned honest he ain't human;
he's a -- gilded saint!"
Mrs. Earle did not heed him. On her knees she was tossing to the
floor the contents of the waste-paper basket. From them she
snatched a piece of crumpled paper.
"Shut up!" she shouted. "Listen! His chauffeur brought him this."
In a voice that quivered with indignation, that sobbed with anger,
she read aloud:
" 'As directed by your note from the window, I went to the booth
and called up Mrs. Cutler's house and got herself on the phone.
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