“Tell us about it,” I urged.
“That’s what I’m here for. Mr. Wise sent me to tell you that,—and a lot of other messages. Well,” and Zizi’s black eyes snapped with satisfaction, “somebody called this morning to see Miss Raynor. And that somebody was none other than Sadie, ‘The Link!’ She sent up a different name,—I forget what, now,—and Miss Olive went down to see her. And she blackmailed Miss Olive good and plenty! You see, little Ziz was listening from behind a convenient portière, and I heard it all. The whole idea was that if Miss Olive would quit all investigations, there would be no tales told. But if she kept up her detective work,—that is, if she kept Mr. Wise on the job, then revelations would be made about her guardian, Mr. Gately, that Sadie said would blast his name forever. Olive seemed to understand just what these revelations were, for she didn’t ask, but she was scared to pieces, and was about ready to give in when I slid into the game. But,—before I joined the confab I called up Penny Wise on an upstairs telephone and invited him to come along hastily and bring a squad of policemen or something that could hold that ‘Link’!
“Then I sauntered into the library, where the blackmailing session was being held, and I stood by. We had a war of words,—‘The Link’ and I,—but it didn’t amount to much, for I was really only sparring for time till Penny Wise blew in. But I kept Miss Olive quiet, and I gave ‘The Link’ a song and dance that made her think some! I told her we knew she wrote the blackmailing letter to Miss Olive, signed ‘A Friend,’ and that she could be jailed for that! She wilted some, but carried it off with a high hand and soon Penny came and he had his little helpers along. They were in uniform, and they seemed mighty glad to get back their long-lost friend and comrade, ‘The Link’!”
“You clever little piece!” cried Norah, “to think of your getting that girl again, after she had broken loose! Didn’t they appreciate it?”
“Yes,” and Zizi smiled, modestly; “but it’s all in the day’s work. I don’t care much about appreciation, except from Mr. Wise.”
She had thrown off her long cloak, and her slender, lithe little figure leaned over the back of a chair. “But,” she cried, twirling round suddenly to me, “I did do one more little trick! When they were taking Sadie away, I sidled up to her, and—oh, well, I s’pose I am a direct descendant of some light-fingered gentry,—I picked her pocket!”
“What did you get?”
“Her pocket,—by which I mean her little leather hand-bag, was never out of her hand for a minute! The way she hung on to it,—fairly clutched it,—made me think it contained something of interest to our side. So I just picked it on general principles. And I got the goods!”
“What?” cried Norah and I together.
“Some stuff in code, or in cipher,—I dunno just what it was. But Penny took it, and he’s tickled to death to get it. Gibberish, of course, but he’ll make it out. He’s clever at ciphers, and it will likely be the final proof of ‘The Link’s’ perfidy,—and,—” here Zizi’s head drooped, and her eyes saddened,—“maybe it will show up Mr. Gately or——”