Part 7 (1/2)

”Not a door key,” he returned, ”but the key to a mystery. Being a woman you are interested in mysteries that have a beautiful society girl as their heroine of course?”

”I really must disappoint you,” she said rather coldly, ”and I don't quite understand why you are not quick to take the many hints I have dropped. Can't you see I want to sit here alone and think? Your own room will be just as comfortably furnished. In a sense this is a sort of second home to me. Mrs. Langley and I are related and this room is an old and favorite haunt when I'm depressed. Is it asking very much that you leave me here alone?”

”Under ordinary conditions no,” he said suavely.

”These are ordinary conditions,” she persisted.

”I'm not sure,” he retorted. ”Tell me this if you dare. Why have you the combination to a safe written on a little piece of mauve paper and concealed in the book on your lap?”

She turned very pale and the look she gave him turned his suspicion into a desire to protect her. The woman of the world air dropped from her and she looked a frightened pathetic and extraordinarily lovely child.

”What shall I do?” she cried helplessly. ”You are a detective?”

”Not yet,” he said smiling, ”although later I intend to be. But I'm not here even as a great amateur. Consider me merely a notoriously good shot suffering equally from neuralgia and curiosity. You have the combination of a safe concealed in this room and you want me to go to bed so that you may take out wads of bank notes and pay your bridge debts. Is that right so far?”

”You are absolutely wrong,” she cried with spirit. ”I need no money and have no debts. There are no jewels in the safe.”

”Letters of course,” he said easily.

She did not speak for a moment. He could see she was wondering what she dare tell him. She could not guess that he knew of the three packages of letters each tied with green ribbon. It was, he supposed, the old story of compromising letters. Innocent enough, but letters that would spell evil tidings to the jealous fiance. They might have been written to Colonel Langley. Men of that heroic stamp often appealed to sentimental school girls and the colonel was undeniably handsome in his cold superior way. His heart ached for her. She was suffering. What had seemed so easy was now become a task of the greatest difficulty.

”Yes,” she said deliberately, ”letters. Letters I must have.”

”Do you suppose I can stand by and see my host robbed?”

”If you have any generosity about you you can in this instance. I only want to destroy one letter because if it should ever be discovered it will hurt the man I love most in the world.”

Anthony Trent groaned. He had guessed aright. There was some man of her own cla.s.s and station who did not love her well enough to overlook some little silly affectionate note sent to the _beau sabreur_ Langley perhaps a half dozen years before. It was a rotten thing to keep such letters. He looked at the girl again and cursed his luck that she was already engaged. Then he sighed and remembered that even were she free it could never be his lot to marry unless he confessed all. And he knew that to a woman of the type he wanted to marry this confession would mean the end of confidence the beginning of despair.

”I shall not stop you,” he said.

She looked at him eagerly.

”And you'll never tell?”

”Not if they put me through the third degree.”

”But ... oughtn't you to tell?” she asked.

”Of course,” he admitted, ”but I won't. I can see you are wondering why.

I'll tell you. I've been in just such a position--and I did what you are going to do.”

Without another word she went swiftly to the concealed safe and began to manipulate the lock. For five minutes she tried and then turned to him miserably.

”It won't open,” she wailed.

”I'll have a shot at it,” he said gaily, and went down on his knees by her side. He soon found out why it remained immovable. It was an old combination. She did not understand his moves as he went through the same procedure which had opened it before. She only saw that the doors swung back. She did not see him pry the iron sheathing back with the jimmy. It was miraculously easy.

Then he crossed the room to his chair and lighted another cigarette.

”Help yourself,” he cried and picked up the book which had held the combination.