Vandervent shook his head.
"You're the genius who discovered the murderer. You do the telephoning, Spofford."
Spofford grinned.
"Much obliged, Mr. Vandervent. There won't be a yip outa me." He bowed toward Clancy. "It ain't hard for me to agree to something that saves a lady like you from bein' annoyed, Miss Deane. I may have sounded nasty, but it means something to me—this advertisin' I'll get."
He left the room before Clancy could answer. But she spoke to Vandervent.
"Have you the right to let a man like Garland go free?" she asked.
"Certainly not," he replied. "But there are occasions when one considers the greater good."
It was no time for Clancy to be hypersensitive about Vandervent's honor. He'd have been something less than a man if he had not made his bargain with Spofford. Yet, to Clancy, it seemed that he had done the most wonderful thing in the world.
There are women who would place a meticulous point of honor above love, but Clancy Deane had never been one of those bloodless persons intended for the cloister. Perhaps her eyes showed her gratitude. For Vandervent stepped nearer.
But the speech that Clancy believed trembled on the tip of his tongue was not uttered then. For Spofford reëntered the room.