"Right. Whatever happens, Kitty—stay with her!"
"Like a Siamese twin," the bright voice assured him. "Is there anything special I'm to try and find out?"
"Well, you know the nature of this case." Creighton hesitated. "A confession would be very useful—if you could get it!"
"Crumbs!" gasped Miss Doyle. "Did she do it?"
"I have no definite proof—yet. There's just enough evidence to warrant our taking a warm interest in her. This sudden departure from Hambleton may be—flight!"
"Oh-ho. And she chose her time while you were here, thus avoiding any embarrassing farewell scene with you! Quite so. Leave her to me, Mr. Creighton. I'll wire you from Liverpool or Buenos Aires or Paris—"
"Or Hoboken or Harlem!" he corrected her.
"Much more likely."
He sent away the telephone, ordered fresh coffee, lighted a cigarette and glanced at his watch. Two courses were open to him. He could put in the afternoon at the office and thereby clear up a lot of stuff for Rose and Jimmy, returning late to Hambleton as he had planned, or he could catch a train that would get him there just in time for dinner. Um.
He caught the train that was to get him there just in time for dinner. Bates, meeting him in the hall and relieving him of his bag, dashed his hopes forthwith.