Clo went to the window, rolled up the blind, and raised the sash.
"Why won't you let me call the police?" she heard Mrs. Mac asking. "I tell you it's the only thing. I——"
"She won't let you do it because she stole the pearls herself," cried Clo, darting across the room to put her lips to the keyhole. "And that's not all she's afraid of."
"I'll kill you when I get my hands round your throat," Kit screamed her down.
"I won't be the first you've killed. Take care!" Clo retorted, and was then stung with regret for her boldness. There would be no mercy for her now from Kit or Churn when the door gave way. They would know that she'd been the woman at the telephone masquerading as Kit.
But, if only Miss Blackburne came first, before they broke in, she didn't much care. With the pearls safe, she could fight for herself.
"Hurrah, by all that's good, here's my Boy!" crowed Kit outside the door. "Churn! you've come! Mr. Isaacs, too! I was never so glad in my life to see any one as you both! There's a thief in Mr. Cheffinsky's room—the girl that's been living next door to us. She's stole my poor little string o' beads."
Men's voices spoke. Churn and Isaacs were indeed there! The girl put her ear to the keyhole once more, and listened.
"What did I tell you about dat key?" Churn caught her up. "You're ten kinds of a fool, girl. But de tief's dere all right, you say?"
"Yes, she's there all right. She must have took Chuff's key off our mantelpiece. You left it there! The little brute's been 'phonin' some pal to come in a taxi so she can drop my pearls out the window."