Kitty lifted out the wallet from behind the flatirons. No doubt of it,

Johnny Two-Hawks had placed it there when she had gone to the speaking

tube to summon the janitor. Not knowing if he would ever call for it!

Preferring that she rather than his enemies should have it. And without

a word! What a simple yet amazing hiding place; and but for the need of

a flatiron the wallet would have stayed there until she moved. Left it

there, with the premonition that he was heading into trouble. But

what if they had killed him? How would she have explained the wallet's

presence in her apartment? Good gracious, what an escape!

Without direct consciousness she raised the flap. She saw the edges of

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money and documents; but she did not touch anything. There was no

need. She knew it belonged to Johnny Two-Hawks. Of course there was

an appalling attraction. The wallet was, figuratively, begging to be

investigated. But resolutely she closed the flap. Why? Because it was

as though Two-Hawks had placed the wallet in her hands, charging her

to guard it against the day he reclaimed it. There was no outward proof

that the wallet was his. She just knew, that was all.

Still, she examined the outside carefully. In one corner had been

originally a monogram or a crest; effectually obliterated by the

application of fire.

Who he was and what he was, by a simple turn of the wrist. It was

Cutty's affair now, not hers. He had a legal right to examine the

contents. He was an agent of the Federal Government. The drums of

jeopardy and Stefani Gregor and Johnny Two-Hawks, all interwoven. She

had waited in vain for Cutty to mention the emeralds. What signified his

silence? She had indirectly apprised him of the fact that she knew

the author of that advertisement offering to purchase the drums, no

questions asked. Who but Cutty in New York would know about them? The

mark of the thong. Johnny Two-Hawks had been carrying the drums, and

Karlov's men had torn them from their victim's neck during the battle.

Was there any reason why Cutty should not have taken her completely into

his confidence? Palaces looted. If Stefani Gregor had lived in a palace,

why not his protege? Still, it was possible Cutty was holding back until

he could tell her everything.

But what to do with it? If she called him up and made known her

discovery, Cutty would rush up as fast as a taxicab could bring him.

He had peremptorily ordered her not to come to his apartment for the

present. But to sit here and wait, to be alone again after he had gone!

It was not to be borne. Orders or no orders, she would carry the wallet

to him. He could lecture her as much as he pleased. To-night, at least,

she would lay aside her part as parlour maid in the drama. It would give

her something to do, keep her mind off herself. Nothing but excitement

would pull her out of this semi-hysterical doldrum.




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