Hammond suppressed his irritation. “Miss Stone has absolutely no connection with the North Star’s intrigues; of that I am certain,” he replied emphatically. “She is as much mystified, I am sure, by the strange occurrences at the limits as we have been.”
“She hypnotised you into believing that?” There was a politely shaded sneer in Gildersleeve’s tone. “Now see here, Hammond, you must remember we are dealing with the cleverest coterie of arch crooks on the American continent. There is nothing in the finer arts of intrigue and blackmail they have not practised in the past to gain their ends. They have never had equals for cunning and resourcefulness.
“Such precedent alone,” he pointed out, “should warn us that that girl with her pretty face has been introduced at this particular juncture with a purpose, if I hadn’t deeper reasons for conviction in the matter. My proposal therefore is that you go back to the limits, further cultivate the acquaintance of Miss Stone and find out as quickly as possible for your own benefit as well as ours all you can about her in that direction.”
Hammond had risen. “I think we may as well break off all our connection right now, Mr. Gildersleeve,” he said coldly. “I am going back to the limits, but this time let it be understood I’m going on my own.”
Gildersleeve at a glance took in the determination written in the young man’s face. “I see—I see,” he muttered significantly. “Well, in that case, Mr. Hammond—can we expect you to respect our previous confidences?”
“So far as it may be honourable and lawful to do so, yes.”
Somehow Hammond sensed that reply rankled Gildersleeve, but the latter responded, almost suavely: “Very well then, call around at Winch’s office in the morning and there’ll be a cheque waiting you to cover payment for your services according to our contract. Goodnight!”
He held the door for Hammond to pass out.