"I get you Steve," she laughed.
Just then the bell rang.
"That must be Jameson," she cried. "Now—get to your corner."
With a last look Dan went into the closet and shut the door.
Perhaps half an hour later, Clutching Hand himself called me up on the telephone. It was he—not the Star—as I learned only too late.
. . . . . . . .
I had scarcely got out of the house, as Craig told me afterwards, when Flirty Florrie told all over again the embroidered tale that had caught my ear.
Kennedy said nothing, but listened intently, perhaps betraying in his face the scepticism he felt.
"You see," she said, still voluble and eager to convince him, "I was only walking on the street. Here,—let me show you. It was just like this."
She took his arm and before he knew it, led him to the spot on the floor near the window which Dan had indicated. Meanwhile Dan was listening attentively in his closet.