"And I thought all along it was just to get yourself out of the mess you were in—to avoid the publicity and all. I didn't see your game. I thought it was all up for you—and the best you could do was to get out of having to go to court! But they can't count you out, can they? My, you have got a nerve!" she finished enthusiastically.
Ralston shrugged his shoulders.
"I assure you it wasn't as clearly thought out as all that. It was like clutching at whatever was left. Sullivan's my only clew. How can I force a statement from this fellow? What has he done? What hold can I get on him?"
The girl looked at him half frightened yet full of admiration.
"Don't try it, Mr. Ralston," she whispered. "Give it up. You can't do it. It's too late. Besides, Sullivan's a dangerous man—a man who stands in with all the politicians—a bad fellow to threaten. He's done things enough, God knows, to send him to jail a dozen times—but leave him alone! You've done enough for Steadman. If you try to monkey with Sullivan anything might happen to you. You mightn't leave this house alive. Get away before it's too late. You're probably due in Washington about now. This night's work will blow over, and Steadman isn't worth the powder to blow his brains out." She clasped her hands with a gesture of entreaty.
"No," said Ralston. "I've begun, and I must finish the job. I mightn't have gone into it if I had known what it was going to cost, but it's too late to back out now. Besides, I've nothing to lose. I'm done for. This 'Martin' business would kill the Administration if I didn't resign. In fact, the public need never know that I have accepted. Fancy! The police looking for the Second Assistant Secretary of the Navy as a fugitive from justice! Why, the papers will be full of it. But that doesn't help me with Steadman. I've got to force this fellow here to give up. Tell me something to use as a lever."
The man on the bed groaned loudly and elevated one knee high in the air. The girl hesitated, evidently torn between various conflicting claims of loyalty.
"Tell him," she whispered after a moment—"tell him you know all about Shackleton and the Mercantile bonds. If that isn't enough, say you'll hand him over for the Masterson deal—that'll fetch him, but be careful and don't get him angry. He may not know where Steadman is, after all. But I heard him say that the gang had almost finished trimming Steadman and were going to finish him up to-night—at cards I think. They've gotten almost every cent he has already——"
Sullivan gave a harsh cough and arose to a sitting position.
"Shackleton—Mercantile bonds—Masterson deal," murmured Ralston to himself.