The young woman below was caroling gayly, ignorant of the six-barreled
menace over her head. I knelt again by my suitcase, but packed little
and thought a great deal. I was to arrive before dusk at a house where
there were no servants and to ring the doorbell twice. I was to be a
light sleeper, although I was to look after two healthy children. It was
not much in itself, but, taken in connection with the previous nurse’s
appeal to the police, it took on new possibilities.
At six I started out to dinner. It was early spring and cold, but quite
light. At the first corner I saw Mr. Patton waiting for a street car,
and at his quick nod I saw I was to get in also. He did not pay my fare
or speak to me. It was a part of the game that we were never seen
together except at the remote restaurant I mentioned before. The car
thinned out and I could watch him easily. Far downtown he alighted and
so did I. The restaurant was near. I went in alone and sat down at a
table in a recess, and very soon he joined me. We were in the main
dining room but not of it, a sop at once to the conventions and to the
necessity, where he was so well known, for caution.
“I got a little information—on—the affair we were talking of,” he said
as he sat down. “I’m not so sure I want you to take the case after all.”
“Certainly I shall take it,” I retorted with some sharpness. “I’ve
promised to go.”
“Tut! I’m not going to send you into danger unnecessarily.”
“I am not afraid.”
“Exactly. A lot of generals were lost in the Civil War because they were
not afraid and wanted to lead their troops instead of saving themselves
and their expensive West Point training by sitting back in a safe spot
and directing the fight. Any fool can run into danger. It takes
intellect to keep out.”