Part 20 (1/2)

”Answer me.”

”I can't tell you.”

”Why not?”

”Because I can't.” There was a ring of finality in Veronica's tone.

Agent Sanders scribbled something more in his little notebook. Then he renewed his questioning. ”You took that letter to somebody, didn't you?”

”I did not,” replied Veronica emphatically. ”I told you before, and I repeat it, I know nothing about any letter. I never saw it, and I never heard of it until you accused me of taking it.”

The agent smiled knowingly. ”To whom did you telephone from this study last night?”

”To a friend of mine.”

”Who?”

Veronica refused to answer that question, calmly defying the agent to make her tell. Again there was a sensation in the room. The Winnebagos were ready to drop with astonishment at the strange behavior of Veronica. Sahwah looked around at the various faces. Mr. Wing still wore his puzzled, pained expression; the artist seemed to be getting bored; he looked out of the window and his left hand was playing with his ear, pulling down the lobe and releasing it with a jerk, a gesture he was continually making when his hands were idle. It irritated Sahwah now and made her nervous; she was filled with a desire to tie his hand down so he couldn't reach his ear.

”That will do,” said Agent Sanders to the Winnebagos, indicating by a gesture that they were to go out of the room. Sahwah lingered. She stood up beside Veronica and put her arm around her. ”She didn't do it! She didn't do it!” she said fiercely, facing the three men fearlessly.

”She's as loyal to this country as you are!”

”Possibly,” said Agent Sanders drily. ”Well, little lady, your faith in your friend is very beautiful to see, but until we find out that someone else took that letter we can't take much stock in it.”

”I'll prove to you that she's all right,” Sahwah proclaimed rashly, and then reluctantly went out of the room. Her faith in Veronica's innocence was unshaken. Veronica herself had said that she did not know anything about the letter, that was enough for Sahwah. Her friend had spoken, and she never dreamed of doubting her word.

As she went out she saw Mr. Wing rub his hand thoughtfully over his forehead and heard him say, ”But hang it, Sanders, you didn't hear her play last night. She had us all roused to such a pitch of patriotism that we were ready to go to the front on the next s.h.i.+p.” The agent said nothing, only went on making notes in his little book. The artist sprang to open the door for Sahwah, but she took the k.n.o.b out from under his very hand and pa.s.sed him with hostile eyes.

Soon afterward Agent Sanders and Mr. Wing went to Philadelphia and took Veronica away with them. Before they went the Winnebagos all flung themselves upon Mr. Wing and implored him not to let the agent take her away. ”_You_ know she is all right,” pleaded Sahwah. ”_You_ tell him not to arrest her.”

Mr. Wing threw out his hands in a helpless gesture. ”You don't understand, my dear,” he said patiently. ”I can't tell Special Agent Sanders 'not to' do anything. I don't happen to have the authority.”

”Oh-h,” said the Winnebagos.

”You see,” he went on gently, ”Agent Sanders is only doing his duty in arresting her. It's his business to run down the enemies of our country and he is working for the good of all of us. The case against her is pretty strong, you'll have to admit. She's an alien enemy, a friend of this Prince Karl Augustus; is wearing a ring which his wife gave her.

Then here comes this letter from him which will expose him as the head of a great plot. Veronica is in the house with that letter; she is known to have been alone in the room where it was; soon after that she leaves the house and says she is going home with a sick headache. When you get home you find her trying to steal un.o.bserved into the back entry. She herself admits that she had an appointment with someone during that time. The next morning the letter is found to have disappeared.

Naturally all suspicion points to her, and how could Sanders do anything else but put her under arrest? This is a serious matter, much more serious than you can guess, if that letter goes back into the hands of the prince's agents.”

”But do you really think she took the letter?” asked Sahwah despairingly.

Mr. Wing shrugged his shoulders and repeated his gesture of helplessness. ”It's hard to know what to expect from such a temptestuous nature as that,” he said seriously. ”A nature which can work up such a pa.s.sionate loyalty for an adopted country--what must its feelings have been toward its own native land? Suppose when the chance unexpectedly came to aid the cause for which her country is fighting and for which her father died, the old ties were stronger than the new, and she could not resist the temptation? A nature like hers is capable of going to any extreme. Naturally I hate to suspect her of any connection with enemy agents, but as a servant of the government it is my duty to act upon anything that is in the least suspicious. Sanders is absolutely convinced that she's a dangerous spy in the employ of the enemy, for she answers the description of a young girl he has been trying to find for a long time, a girl who belongs to the Hungarian n.o.bility who has helped German agents in this country.

”Sanders is dead sure she took that letter and pa.s.sed it back to the prince's agents, and you really can't blame him for thinking so. For, hang it all, if _she_ didn't, who under the s.h.i.+ning sun did?”

Only Sahwah, with her faith in her friend unshaken, though circ.u.mstances pointed accusing fingers from every direction, declared stoutly, ”She didn't, I know she didn't. Some day you'll find out I'm right!”