"Easier?" she repeated. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well, you can get into his confidence. See?"

"But you're wrong," she said indignantly. "I'm sure he is absolutely innocent."

"Then you'll be glad of a chance to prove we're wrong and you're right."

"But I couldn't spy on a friend," she declared.

"If your friend is innocent it won't do him any harm," Taylor observed, "and he'd never know. But if he's guilty he deserves punishment, and you've no right to try and protect him. Any person would only be doing right in helping to detect a criminal; but you,"--he paused significantly,--"it's just as much your duty as it is mine." He showed her his gold badge of authority for a brief moment, and although it terrified her there was too much loyalty in her nature to betray a friend or even to spy upon one.

"No, no! I can't do it," she said.

"So you're going back on your agreement," he sneered. "Two can play that game. Suppose I go back on mine, too?"

"You wouldn't do that," she cried horrified at his threat.

"Why not?" he returned. "It's give and take in this world."

"But I couldn't be so contemptible."

Taylor shrugged his shoulders. "If I were you I'd think it over," he recommended.

"But supposing you're wrong," she said earnestly. "Suppose he has no necklace?"

"Don't let that disturb you," he retorted. "Our information is positive.

We got a telegram late this afternoon from a pal of his who squealed, giving us a tip about it. Now what do you say?"

"I can't," she said, "I can't."

He came closer, and said in a low harsh voice: "Remember, it's Steven Denby or your sister. There's no other way out. Which are you going to choose?"

He watched her pale face eagerly. "Well," he cried, "which is it to be?"

"I have no choice," she answered dully. "What do you want me to do?"

"Good," Taylor cried approvingly. "That's the way to talk! Denby has that necklace concealed in a brown leather tobacco-pouch which he always carries in his pocket. You must get me that pouch."

"How can I?" she asked despairingly.

"I'll leave that to you," he answered.

"But couldn't you do it?" she pleaded. "Or one of your men? Why ask me?"

"It may be a bluff, some clever scheme to throw me off the track and I'm not going to risk a mix-up with the Harringtons or tip my hand till I'm absolutely sure. It don't pay me to make big mistakes. You say Denby's your friend, well, then, it'll be easy to find out. If you discover that the necklace is in the tobacco-pouch, get him to go for a walk in the garden; say you want to look at the moon, say anything, so long as you get him into the garden where we'll be on the lookout and grab him."

"But he might go out there alone," she suggested.

"If he does," Taylor a.s.sured her, "we won't touch him, but if he comes out there with you, we'll _know_."

"But if I can't get him into the garden?" she urged. "Something may happen to prevent me!"

"If you're sure he has it on him," Taylor instructed her, "or if you make out where it is concealed, pull down one of these window-shades. My men and I can see these from the garden. When we get your signal we'll come in and arrest him. Sure you understand?"

"I'm to pull down the window-shade," she repeated.

"That's it, but be careful, mind. Don't bring him out in the garden, and don't signal unless you are absolutely certain."

"Yes, yes," she said.

"And under no circ.u.mstances," he commanded, "must you mention my name."

"But," she argued, "suppose--"

"There's no 'buts' and no 'supposes' in it," he said sharply. "It's most important to the United States Government and to me, that my ident.i.ty is in no way disclosed."

"It may be necessary," she persisted.

"It _cannot_ be necessary," he said with an air of finality. "If it comes to a show-down and you tell Denby I'm after him, I'll not only swear I never saw you, but I'll put your sister in prison. Now, good night, Miss Cartwright, and remember you've got something at stake, too, so don't forget--Denby to-night."

He went silently through the French windows and disappeared, leaving her to face for the second time in a day an outlook that seemed hopeless.

But she was not the only one in the great Harrington mansion to feel that little zest was left in life. Monty was obsessed with the idea that his friend's long delay was due to his having been held up. The automobile lends itself admirably to highway robbery, and it would be easy enough for armed robbers to overpower Denby and the chauffeur.

Directly he heard Denby's voice talking to Lambart as he was shown into his room, Monty burst in and wrung his hands again and again.

"Why, Monty," his friend said, "you overpower me."

"I thought you'd been held up and robbed," the younger man cried.

"Neither one nor the other," Denby said cheerfully, "I was merely the victim of two blow-outs. But," he added, looking keenly at his confederate, "if I had been held up the pearls wouldn't have been taken.

I didn't happen to have them with me."

"Thank G.o.d!" Monty cried fervently. "I wondered if that telegraphing to people was just a ruse or not. Hooray, I feel I can eat and drink and be merrier than I've been for a month. I never want to hear about them again."

"I'm sorry, old man," Denby said smiling, "but I shall have to ask you for them."

"Me?" Monty stammered. "Don't joke, Steve."

"But you very kindly brought them over for me," Denby returned mildly.

"They're in the right-hand shoe of a pair of buckskin tennis shoes. I put them there when I helped you to repack your trunk. Do you mind bringing them before I've finished dressing?"

Monty looked at him reproachfully. "Sometimes I think I ought to have gone into the ministry. I'm getting a perfect horror of crime."

"You're not a criminal," Denby said. "You helped me out on the voyage, but here you are free to do as you like."

Monty set his jaw firmly. "I'm in it with you, Steve, till you've got the d.a.m.ned things where you want 'em, and you can't prevent me, either."