Mr. Grimes stared at her, with his wig still awry, for some moments; then the color began to come back into his face. Helen had not realized before that he had turned pale.
“You come into my office,” he snapped, jumping up briskly. “I’ll get to the bottom of this!”
His movements were so very abrupt and he looked at her so strangely that, to tell the truth, the girl from Sunset Ranch was a bit frightened. She trailed along behind him, however, with only a hesitating step, passing the wondering clerk, and heard the lock of the door of the inner office snap behind her as Mr. Grimes shut it.
He drew heavy curtains over the door, too. The place was a gloomy apartment until he turned on the electric light over a desk table. She saw that there were curtains at all the windows, and at the other door, too.
“Come here,” he said, beckoning her to the desk, and to a chair that stood by it, and still speaking softly. “We will not be overheard here. Now! Tell me what you mean by coming to me in this way?”
He shot such an ugly look at her that Helen was again startled.
“What do you mean?” she returned, hiding her real emotion. “I have come to ask some questions. Why shouldn’t I?”
“You say Prince Morrell is dead?”
“Yes, sir. Nearly two months, now.”
“Who sent you, then?”