indicated a large oval case of purple velvet, slightly old-fashioned
looking, and adorned with a splendid gold crown. The pearl-stringer knew
something about crowns and coronets: duchesses, countesses, baronesses,
and small fry like that. But this crown was royal. She was going to get
good "copy" for her notes!
Beverley's hand moved toward the purple case. She was in a desperate
hurry to get her business with Miss Blackburne over, and escape into the
hall again. She must try to have a word with Roger before he went,
though she dared not--literally dared not--go to his room.
"You'll see the pearls, and----" she had begun, when her ears caught the
sound of an electric bell; a loud, insistent peal.
XVII
THE MYSTERY OF THE BOUDOIR
"It's Roger," Beverley thought. "He's ringing for Johnson--perhaps to
ask more questions!"
"I must speak to my husband," she said to Miss Blackburne. "The pearls
are in that case. There are two hundred and fifty. About thirty came
unstrung. You'll see for yourself how they ought to be graduated. I'll
be with you again in a few minutes."
She flew to the hall, hoping to intercept Johnson before he could reach
Roger's room. But the man was not on his way there. It was the sound of
the door-bell she had heard. Johnson was in the act of admitting a girl
in a black chiffon cloak lined with blue. A large frilled hood pulled
over the wearer's eyes hid the profile from Beverley. The girl turned;
it was Clo.
"I'll go with you to your room," Beverley said, controlling her voice
for the benefit of Johnson, and trying not to show how frantic was her
haste. It was only when she had noiselessly closed the door of the big,
bare room, that she dared let herself go.
"What's happened?" she implored. "Why are you dressed like this? Of
course you haven't got the papers?"
"I dressed like this to make a get-away," said Clo. "I stole the cloak.
I'll tell you everything by and by. But first, you must find out for
yourself whether I've got the papers. I've got something--something in a
thick envelope. That's all I know."
She threw off the cloak of the girl at the Dietz, and unpinned the
pocket which held the precious package--the pocket which, thanks to the
pin, had guarded its contents through the whole series of her
adventures.
Beverley took the large linen envelope, not even thanking Clo. Neither
noticed the omission.
"Addressed to Justin O'Reilly!" she exclaimed. "It's the right size. But
what makes you think it may have my envelope inside?"
"Because it was carefully hidden in a safe in the wall. I thought of
opening it to make sure. There wasn't--enough time."
"I'll open it ... now!" said Beverley. Her words were firm, yet she
hesitated, and turning, the envelope over, stared at the five
official-looking red seals. What if it should contain legal documents
belonging to some client of O'Reilly's?
"Tap--tap!" came at the door.
Beverley laid the envelope on the glass table, where Clo's medicine
bottles once had stood. Over the red seals she flung her handkerchief,
lest it should be Roger at the door.
Meanwhile, Clo had answered the knock and revealed Johnson.
"Madam, the lady who came with Mr. Sands wishes to see you immediately;
it's very urgent," he announced.
"Say I'll be there in a few minutes," she replied. "I can't come just
yet."
Johnson departed. "Madam will come in a few minutes," he repeated to
Miss Blackburne, who had been anxiously awaiting him at a half-open
door. "I think," he added, "she is busy, miss."
"In that case," suggested the pearl-stringer, "perhaps you'd better call
Mr. Sands."
"Very well, miss, I'll do so." Johnson turned away, and Miss Blackburne
retreated to the boudoir.
But it occurred to Clo that Roger might be summoned if Beverley delayed.
"Something must be worrying Miss Blackburne," she said. "I wonder if
it's anything you'd like Mr. Sands to mix up in, or if you'd rather
attend to it yourself? You know, we've lots of time before ten o'clock.
If the papers are in this envelope, it's all right. If not, there's
nothing doing."
Just why Beverley did not want Roger to go to her boudoir she hardly
knew, unless she feared that a pearl might be missing, and that Roger
would be more vexed than he was already. Whatever the motive in her
mind, she felt suddenly impelled to haste. Even with Clo she could not
leave the envelope. Wrapping it in the handkerchief to hide the address,
she hurried off with it in her hand.
"You sent for me, Miss Blackburne?" she asked, as she threw open the
door.
The pearl-stringer stood by the table, looking pale and strange.
"Oh, Mrs. Sands," she exclaimed, "you told me the pearls were in their
case, but they're not. I found it empty. You must have laid them
somewhere else."
Beverley wondered whether she had become temporarily insane, and had
hidden the pearls in a place already forgotten. But in her heart she
knew that nothing of the sort had happened.
"No," she said, answering herself as well as Miss Blackburne, "I didn't
touch the pearls after I put them away, and brought them in here. Oh,
please don't tease me! This is too serious!"
"Tease you!" echoed Miss Blackburne. "Why, Mrs. Sands, I wouldn't do
such a thing! I wish to goodness I'd insisted on your staying till I'd
opened the case and counted the pearls. I don't think I was ever so
foolish before! Now, maybe you'll believe that I've sto----"
"No--no!" exclaimed Beverley, calmed by the other's distress. "Of course
I believe nothing so foolish. Even if you--what nonsense to speak of
it!--but even if you wanted the pearls, you couldn't hide them. Let me
think! Let me go back in my mind over everything that happened. I was in
the next room practically all the time when I wasn't here. The door was
open between. I could have seen any one who came in. Oh, the pearls
can't have been stolen. There's been nobody to steal them."
"What about our little friend, Clo Riley?" Miss Blackburne asked. "Could
she possibly know anything? Mightn't she help with some suggestion? I
thought hers one of the brightest, quickest minds I ever met. Indeed, I
owe my life to its quickness."
Beverley forgot to answer. The pearl-stringer's words had sent her
thoughts travelling along a new path. Suddenly she became aware that she
had deceived Miss Blackburne and herself. When she made that statement,
she had not reflected. Clo's return, in O'Reilly's company, now seemed
so long ago that she had not cast her mind back so far in connection
with the pearls. She had thought of what she had done since O'Reilly's
refusal of her request, and his departure. She had pictured herself as
having seen the pearls in their case since then. But she had not done
so. She had seen only the closed case, and had naturally taken it for
granted that the pearls were in it. As a matter of fact, she had not
actually seen them since she herself closed the velvet case. Could Clo
possibly have dashed into the boudoir and hidden the pearls?
"I'll speak to Clo," she finally replied, with a dazed look after a
silence that puzzled Miss Blackburne.
"Please stay here. I'll be back in three or four minutes, and bring Clo
with me, if she's well enough."
Clo, denuded of the stolen cloak, had flung herself upon the bed to
rest, and call back the force of her vitality for a later effort. Her
nerves were throbbing like hot wires, and she jumped at the opening of
the door.
"Oh, I'm glad it's you!" she sighed, at sight of Beverley. "Have you
opened the envelope?"
"The envelope!" Beverley repeated. "Oh, Clo, I thought nothing on earth
could have put it out of my head for a second. But Miss Blackburne
called me to say the pearls have disappeared. I forgot the envelope. I
must hurry back. Did you do anything with the pearls, on your way out?"
Clo looked aghast. "Good gracious, no!" she cried. "I went through the
kitchen, and down the servants' elevator. Oh, Mrs. Sands--Angel--you
don't think----"
"Nonsense! You're as bad as Miss Blackburne!" Beverley cut her short. "I
thought that, for some reason, you might have hidden them. Now I know
you didn't. Clo, this is the most terrible day--except one--in my life.
I must find the pearls or Roger will never forgive me. And only a few
minutes ago they were nothing, compared with the papers!"
Clo's wits, drowned in horror for an instant, came to the surface again.
"What if O'Reilly took the pearls for revenge!" she blurted out. "Did he
know--was he anywhere near them?"
Beverley, who had been standing by the bed, sank down upon it, and
stared. "He did know," she said slowly. "And--and he was alone in the
room with the pearls for some minutes if I remember rightly. You see,
Sister Lake arrived. She was angry about your being out. I tried to
soothe her. It was no use. She left, bag and baggage, in injured
dignity. O'Reilly was in my boudoir. Oh, Clo, it must be he who took the
pearls!"
The girl herself had said it: yet, when the words were repeated by other
lips than hers, it gave her a shock. O'Reilly's face rose before her
eyes. "I don't believe he did it!" she was surprised to hear her own
voice cry out aloud.
"You suggested it yourself!" exclaimed Beverley.
"I know," the girl confessed. "The idea popped into my head. But it
can't be true. He's not that sort, whatever else he may be!"
"He went off furious with you, with us both," Beverley said. "It must
have been he who stole the pearls. There's a strong motive--something
for him to hold over us, and force us to give the papers back."
"If we've got them!" cut in Clo.
Beverley sprang up. "I'm lost in this!" she faltered. "There are too
many things against me. I can't cope with them all at once. I must go to
the boudoir and get that envelope, whatever happens."
"What shall I do?" asked Clo.
Beverley was already at the door, and had opened it.
"If I don't come back to you in five minutes, it will be a sign I want
you to come to me."
When the door had shut behind her Angel, the girl felt she would be
thankful for the five minutes' respite. She lay flat and straight as a
figure on a marble tomb, yet she could not rest for thinking of
O'Reilly. His eyes seemed to be looking into hers. By shutting them, she
could not shut him out. When she thought that the five minutes must have
passed, she slid wearily off the bed.
"I must go to Angel," she said half aloud. But she had not got to her
feet when, without knocking, Beverley flung the door open.
Instantly Clo guessed that some new and worse misfortune had happened.
"This time it's the end. I give up!" Beverley panted. "The envelope has
gone with the pearls. I hadn't even opened it. I don't know what was
inside."
"Gone! The envelope gone!" gasped the girl. "Gone--from--where?"
"From the table in the boudoir," Beverley answered. "I laid it there
when Miss Blackburne told me about the pearls. It was there when I came
to you. Miss Blackburne hasn't left the room. She didn't even see the
envelope. I've searched everywhere for it--but it's gone."
XVIII
DEFEAT
All Clo's efforts and schemings wasted! She had tricked, stolen, risked
her life, in vain. The envelope was gone.
"You can't have looked everywhere," she insisted. "The thing must have
got tucked out of sight--unless Miss Blackburne ... but no, she's as
good as gold!"
"I'm sure you're right about her. She is good," said Beverley.
"But ... she says nobody came into the room while she was
there.... I asked her. Otherwise I might have thought that
Rog----" The sentence broke. "I wanted to see you alone," Angel began
again, "so I came back. You've been so wonderful to-day, you've made
me depend upon you. If there were anything to do, you'd be the one
to do it. But there's nothing ... is there? I can't see any light,
can you?"
"Let me help you to look for the envelope," said Clo.
"Come, then," said the other, in a toneless voice, unlike her own.
Together they went to Beverley's boudoir, where there was a little
interlude of greetings between Clo and Miss Blackburne. Then, Clo was
beginning her search for the lost envelope when Roger Sands slowly
passed the half-open door. Beverley had left it ajar, not because she
wished to call him (that desire had fled with the news about the
pearls), but in order to see that he went out. She stood with her back
to the door at the moment, but on the wall directly opposite hung a long
mirror. Clo guessed, by the slight start Angel gave, that she must have
caught sight of his reflection. He turned and came back.
"If he asks to see the pearls!" was the thought in Clo's head. Her eyes
met Beverley's and read the same terror there.
Roger spoke to Miss Blackburne, pausing on the threshold.
"What do you think of the baubles?" he asked with elaborate
carelessness. "Are they above the average?"
The two girls held their breath. Would the pearl-stringer give the
situation away?
But Miss Blackburne, true to herself, was discretion incarnate.
"I've not seen enough of the pearls, yet, to form an opinion," she
replied, "but my impression is that they must be altogether
exceptional."
"I'm glad your impression is good," said Roger. He turned to his wife.
"I may not be back till late. Don't sit up for me. Good-night."
Beverley followed him into the hall.
"Roger!" she pleaded. "You're doing me a most horrible injustice. I
can't bear it!"
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"You can't help knowing," she said, "It's about Justin O'Reilly. You
think I----"
"Have I accused you of anything?" he challenged, brows raised, eyes
blank.
"No. But----"
"Your imagination seems to be even more lively than your conscience is
sensitive, my dear girl. What have you done, that I should accuse you?"
"I've done nothing, Roger, that you----"
"All right, then. Why borrow trouble? I must hurry, or I'll miss my
appointment. Good-night again. Sleep well!"
Roger left her without a backward glance. Beverley felt that she was
caught in the folds of a vast net.
What was it Clo had said, that day? "There was once a mouse who gnawed a
net----" Poor mouse, it had tried to-day to gnaw the net! It had gnawed
one small hole, but even before the prisoner could struggle to get free,
the hole had closed again. Still, the mouse was ready for another bout.
It was a brave, bold mouse--a subtle mouse! For some strange reason her
sole hope was in Clo.
During her absence the girl had searched the boudoir from end to end.
Her sharp eyes had not missed a cranny big enough to hide a pin, to say
nothing of a rope of pearls or a large envelope with five red seals.
Both the pearls and the envelope must have been stolen. Were there two
thieves, or only one?
With Roger's departure, and Beverley's return, the three women could
talk with freedom, especially after Mrs. Sands' announcement to the
butler that he would not be needed to serve dinner.
Miss Blackburne reiterated that she knew nothing of the envelope. She
had had no thought for anything except the pearls. Their loss put her
into an embarrassing position unless Mrs. Sands intended informing Mr.
Sands and the police at once of what had happened.
"I saw by your face you didn't want me to speak when your husband came
in," she said to Beverley, "so I hedged, and did the best I could
without lying. I realized that you would want to be the one to break the
news. But I suppose you have told him now? He'll send the police, or
some private detective, won't he, to take evidence while I'm here?"
"I do want to get them back," Beverley answered. "But I haven't told my
husband, and we can't have the police, or even a detective. That must
seem not quite fair to you, Miss Blackburne. Whatever happens, you
shan't suffer, I promise. I believe I know who has taken the pearls. If
I'm right, it isn't exactly a theft. Perhaps if I go the right way about
it, I can get them again. What's the good of worrying my husband, when
in a day or two there may be nothing to worry about?"
"M-m-m," muttered Miss Blackburne, "I think you're wrong, Mrs. Sands. I
have a feeling that Mr. Sands suspects."
"That the pearls are gone? How can he?" Beverley cried.
"I don't know, I only feel," the little woman repeated.
As the two had talked, Clo watched Miss Blackburne's face. It was with
her as the pearl-stringer had said of herself: she "did not know--she
could only feel" that the good little woman had something on her
conscience, something that she was obliged to hide.
Clo had by this time succeeded in clearing her mind from cobwebs.
Suddenly a light shone like flame upon the mystery. "Peterson!" was the
name that printed itself upon the girl's brain. "If he could have got
into the flat, he could have stolen both the pearls and papers. Does
Miss Blackburne know something, and if she does, why won't she tell?"
It occurred to Clo that, if she could have a few words with Miss
Blackburne alone, perhaps the puzzle might be solved.
"Angel," she said, "if there's been a thief in this house, perhaps he's
here still. With two manservants, you ought----"
Beverley waited for no more. Any straw was worth catching at. She
couldn't wait to ring for Johnson. She rushed out of the boudoir, hoping
to find the butler in the dining room. He was there. And while she
explained that something had been stolen, that the flat must be
searched, Clo got the chance she had wanted.
"Miss Blackburne, you're my friend!" she exclaimed. "This means life or
death to me. I'm responsible for that envelope we've lost. Do, for the
love of heaven, tell me what happened in this room while Mrs. Sands went
out and left you here alone."
The pearl-stringer remained silent. She met Clo's great, imploring eyes
without shrinking, but the girl saw that she breathed hard.
"If you don't want me to die, tell me!" Clo implored.
"My child, I would tell you, if I could," she stiffened herself. "But,
you see," she finished, "there's nothing to tell. So, I can't."
XIX
THE BROWN TRUNK
Clo realized that there was no more to be said, since to accuse Miss
Blackburne of lying would make matters worse. When Beverley came back,
to say that the servants had been questioned, and the flat searched in
vain, the girl had made up her mind what to do next. There were two
things, one of which had better be done at once; the second, which must
be done before ten o'clock. The first was to settle with Miss
Blackburne; and get rid of her. The second thing was to keep the
appointment with Peterson. It was more important, Clo thought, to see
him than to see O'Reilly, though she expected Angel to suggest an
immediate talk with O'Reilly in person or by telephone. She hoped to
bring Beverley to her point of view.
"Of course, I rely on you to let me clear myself if you don't find your
pearls the way you hope," Miss Blackburne reminded Beverley. "I'm sure
you'll let me know when you have news. Meanwhile, there's nothing to
stay for, is there? I might as well be with mother."
It was arranged that she should go home in a taxi, to save the time
which must be wasted, waiting for Beverley's car. Mrs. Sands paid, of
course, and gave the pearl-stringer a present of fifty dollars, "to make
up for her trouble."
It was not late, as time goes, but on this night of stress and ordeal,
nine-fifteen was a terrible hour. The instant Miss Blackburne was out of
the house, the two girls turned to each other, and clasped hands.
"Thank God, she's gone!" Beverley breathed. "Now I'll call up Justin
O'Reilly, and----"
"Wait till I tell you something I've thought of, then you can decide,"
Clo cut in. "I believe that horrible creature, Peterson, may be the
thief, not O'Reilly. How he could have got into the flat, and out again,
I can't see. But he probably specializes in stunts like that! He has the
face--and the fingers--for it. I shouldn't wonder if he terrorized poor
Blacky. She's not cut out for a heroine, is she? Maybe the man was under
the table in the boudoir. Maybe he warned her that, if she gave him away
afterward, he'd do for her and all her belongings. That would scare
Blacky blue! She worships her mother. I haven't got the tangle
straightened out in my head yet. But this new idea looks good to me, so
far. If Peterson's the thief--if he's pocketed the papers and the
pearls--it seems to me he'll try and make a quick get-away. Let us jump
on him now, at the Hotel Westmorland, before he expects us, and before
bothering with O'Reilly. These pearls must be well known. Peterson can't
get rid of them, even to a fence, for any big sum. I think he'd
exchange, for money, and less important jewels that he might dare to
sell. Haven't you got something that your husband's forgotten--or won't
mind if he doesn't see you wear?"
"Yes," Beverley answered. "I have six or seven hundred dollars by me.
There's a diamond muff-chain, too, and a tiara that Roger himself thinks
too old looking for me. He proposed to have the stones reset--but that's
months ago. He has forgotten, I'm sure, for he's given me so many other
things since. I could bargain with the chain and tiara--and perhaps a
few bracelets and rings."
"Let me take the jewels and money in a bag to the Westmorland. I can
leave it at the desk while I do the bargaining. It's best to be on the
safe side, if you're a mouse holding up a ferret! Besides, there's a
question we've 'most lost sight of in this business, Angel. We're not
sure the right papers were in the envelope I took from O'Reilly. They
might be something else he valued."
"Why, yes!" cried Beverley. "For a moment I counted on their being the
right ones--the ones I must give Peterson----"
"Well, I've only to see him to make sure," Clo went on. "He may lie, but
I know I can tell by his face. Angel, waste no time on O'Reilly. There's
not one second to lose! Get your jewels together, and I'll go."
"We'll both go," said Beverley. "Don't object; it's useless! I won't
have you go alone. You've done more than enough already. I'm a wretch to
let you slave for me, your first day out of bed! But I daren't call at
Peterson's alone, not because I'm afraid for myself, but because of
Roger. Besides, I can depend on you to keep your head."
"Very well," Clo consented. "The first thing that occurs to me is this:
we must put on plain coats and hats. My new hat I left at the Dietz: I
had to! But you'll lend me something. And we'll not 'phone for a taxi.
Best slip away and not let the servants know we've gone. If you've a
latch-key, we may go and even get back without a soul being the wiser."
"Come to my room and choose wraps for us both, while I collect the money
and what jewels I dare spare," Beverley said. As she spoke, she ran in
front of Clo, and opened a safe in the wall not unlike the hiding place
Clo had rifled at the Dietz.
The girl selected two automobile coats, one of gray silk, the other of
brown, both intended to match the colours of dresses, but inconspicuous
and plain. There were toques made of the same material, with thin veils
attached. Clo took for herself the brown coat, which was shorter than
the gray, and pulled the brown toque well over her red hair. By this
time Beverley had stuffed a roll of greenbacks, a chain of platinum set
with brilliants, half a dozen sparkling rings and bracelets, and a
flexible diamond tiara, into a dark leather handbag. Clo helped her into
the long gray coat which covered her evening dress; and the two stole
out of the flat like flitting shadows. They went down in the elevator,
but the hall-porter was off duty for the night, having left a young
understudy in charge.
The girls walked fast to the nearest taxi stand, Clo trying not to
breathe hard and so remind Angel of her weakness. As the chauffeur
slowed down in front of the Westmorland, Beverley held up her wrist
watch for Clo to see.
"Twenty-five minutes to ten," Clo assured her confidently. "I only hope
he won't have gone out. Now, you wait for me in the taxi, Angel, while
I----"
"No, you're to wait for me," Beverley decided. "I can do more with the
man than you, because there are things you don't know. But don't wait
here. It's too far away. I might need you in a hurry. We'll keep the
taxi, so there'll be no delay in getting off, and we'll both go into the
hotel together. You came this afternoon, so you had better ask for
Peterson. We can make up our minds what to do next when we get the
answer."