She had sunk her head into the worn and dirty covers of the bed. Kennedy reached over and took hold of her arm. "She will be all right, soon," he said reassuringly. "Miss Kendall will take good care of her."
As we descended the stairs, we could see Carton at the foot. A patrol wagon had been backed up to the curb in front and the inmates of the place were being taken out, protesting violently at being detained.
Further down the hall, by the "office," Dorgan and Ogleby were storming, protesting that "influence" would "break" everyone concerned, from Carton down to the innocent patrolmen.
Kennedy listened a moment, then turned to Clare Kendall.
"I will leave Miss Blackwell in your care," he said quietly. "It is on her we must rely to prove the contents of the Black Book."
Clare nodded, as, with a clang, Carton drove off with his prisoners to see them safely entered on the "blotter."
"Our work is over," remarked Kennedy, turning again to Miss Kendall, in a tone as if he might have said more, but refrained.
Looking Craig frankly in the eye, she extended her hand in that same cordial straight-arm shake with which she had first greeted us, and added, "But not the memory of this fight we have won."