When approached, the girl,—the woman rather,—put up a bold bluff, but it was of no avail. She was taken into custody, and all her appeals for mercy denied. All but one. She begged so hard to be allowed to telephone to her mother that Hudson, who was present, softened.
“You can’t, my lady,” he said, “but I’ll have it done for you. Mr. Brice, now, maybe he’ll do it.”
“Oh, if you would be so kind,” and the beautiful brunette, for she was that, gave me a grateful look. “Just call 83649 Greenwich Square, and ask for Mrs. Kent. Then tell her, please, that—that I won’t be home tonight. That’s all.”
Her voice broke and she sobbed softly in her handkerchief.
They took her away, to be detained pending developments. I made the call and gave the message exactly as she had asked me. A pleasant voice responded, saying the speaker was Mrs. Kent, and she thanked me for sending word.
I hurried back to my rooms. Wise and Rivers were still there but Norah and Jenny had left. I had no sooner got my coat off than Zizi came flying in.
“Oh, everybody,” she cried, in a whirl of excitement, “Olive’s gone! She’s kidnaped or abducted or something. A telephone message came and she flew off, telling nobody but Mrs. Vail, and telling her not to tell!”
“Where’s she gone?” I cried, flinging back into my coat.
“Nobody knows. I only got it out of Mrs. Vail this minute, and then only by threatening her with all sorts of horrors if she didn’t tell me. She doesn’t know where Olive’s gone,—nobody knows,—but whoever telephoned said he had Amory Manning with him, just for a few moments and for her to come at once if she wanted to see him. A car would come for her at four o’clock, exactly, and she was to get in and ask no questions. And she did—and she told Mrs. Vail that as soon as she got to Mr. Manning she would telephone back,—in about fifteen minutes. And now it’s over an hour! and no word from her! That stupid old woman just walks up and down and wrings her hands!”
“I should think she would! Which way shall we look, Wise?”