"That clears up the code," said he.
"The code went to Joyce in a returning lunch-basket," observed Fairchild.
"By way of the Doctor?" the Captain added.
"Doctor Westbrook, do you mean?" said Clay, surprised. "Oh, no; Mr. Nettleton's negro, President, was the happy medium, the manna-bearing raven in my wilderness, always."
"Did Mr. Nettleton know of this arrangement?" asked Converse.
"Why, yes," was the perplexed reply. "I don't know what idea you have, but this is the way of it. When I first left the Nettleton Building, I went rushing through the streets like one distracted. I was, I suppose. But presently I came to myself and realized, if I wished to expunge myself quietly, that I must get my wits together and think out a plan. So I walked on more composedly, penetrated the depths of the East Side to a small hotel conducted by a Mexican of whom I know. Oh, I was terribly upset—clean knocked out; for while I was in the dingy office a most remarkably beautiful girl entered. I uttered a cry that frightened her, and sat staring at her with open mouth. She was the living image of De Sanchez—or so my distraught brain fancied.
"Well, there I managed to frame a note to Mr. Nettleton, in which I explained the circumstances as best I could, dwelling upon the imperativeness of my resolution, and trusting to his honor for secrecy. I pointed out how useless it would be to involve Joyce; that if I was not called upon to testify, the matter would be cleared up without her ever being brought into it at all—in short that if my absence would spare her any scandal, why, I would remain absent as long as it might be necessary. I don't believe the Doctor at any time knew where I was; for at the very start we all agreed to keep our own counsels, on the theory that a secret is best kept when shared by the fewest people. The searching inquiry that was to follow was anticipated, and the fact was pressed home to Joyce by both Mr. Nettleton and myself, that it would prove far more expedient for the Doctor honestly to plead ignorance than to attempt evasion; so he was told nothing, and not even Charlotte was given a hint of my whereabouts. Joyce was to be saved at all hazards."
"Dear boy!" softly interposed Charlotte.
"Lottie, don't distract me that way, please," protested her brother; "you make me forget where I am."
"And Mr. Nettleton entered into this mad scheme, did he?" asked the Captain, much interested.