Part 7 (1/2)

”I did not recall myself to your father. I did not care at that moment to shock him with the remembrance of the past. Is not Mr. Braine a remarkable man?” All this in her charming broken English.

”He is, indeed,” affirmed Norton. ”He's a superb linguist, knows everybody and has traveled everywhere. No matter what subject you bring up he seems well informed.”

”Come often,” urged Florence.

”I shall, my child. And any time you need me, call for me. After all, I am nearly your aunt. You will find life in the city far different from that which you have been accustomed to.”

She limped down to her limousine. In tripping up Norton he had stepped upon her foot heavily.

”She is lovely!” cried Florence.

”Well, I must be on my way, also,” said Norton. ”I am a worldly-wise man, Miss Florence. So is Jones here. Never go any place without letting him know; not even to the corner drug store. I am going to find your father. Some one was rescued. I'm going to find out whether it was the aviator or Mr. Hargreave.”

Jones drew in a deep breath and his eyes closed for a moment. At the door he spoke to the reporter.

”What do you think of that woman?”

”I believe that she told the truth. She is charming.”

”She is. But for all her charm and truth I can not help distrusting her. I have an idea. I shall call up your office at the end of each day. If a day comes without a call, you will know that something is wrong.”

”A very good idea.” Norton shook hands with every one and departed.

”What a brave, pleasant young man!” murmured Susan.

”I like him, too; and I'd like him for a friend,” said the guileless girl.

”It is very good to have a friend like Mr. Norton,” added Jones; and pa.s.sed out into the kitchen. All the help had been discharged and upon his shoulders lay the burden of the cooking till such time when he could reinstate the cook.

There was a stormy scene between Braine and the countess that night.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THERE WAS A STORMY SCENE BETWEEN BRAINE AND THE PRINCESS]

”Are you in your dotage?” she asked vehemently.

”There, there; bring your voice down a bit. Where's the girl?”

”In her home. Where did you suppose she would be, after that botchwork of letting me go to do one thing while you had in mind another? And an ordinary pair of cutthroats, at that!”

”The thought came to me after you left. I knew you'd recognize the men and understand. I see no reason why it didn't work.”

”It would have been all right if you had consulted a clairvoyant.”

”What the deuce do you mean by that?” Braine demanded roughly.

”I mean that then you would have learned your friend the reporter was to arrive upon the scene at its most vital moment.”

”What, Norton?”

”Yes. The trouble is with you, you have been so successful all these years that you have grown overconfident. I tell you that there is a desperately shrewd man somewhere back of all this. Mark me, I do not believe Hargreave is dead. He is in hiding. It may be near by. He may have dropped from the balloon before it left land. The man they picked up may be Orts, the aeronaut. The five thousand might have been his fee for rescuing Hargreave. Here is the greatest thing we've ever been up against; and you start in with every-day methods!”

”Little woman, don't let your tongue run away with you too far.”