With grinding wheels the train drew up in Charing Cross station, and amid a great slamming of doors the passengers swarmed out and made their way briskly down the long platform. Betty went first, explaining to her friend that, in all probability, no one would meet her, owing to their change of train, yet searching in the crowd for some familiar face. Hester searched faces, too, for she knew that word of the robbery must have been telegraphed ahead to London, and as they passed through narrow gates in the iron barrier that separated the tracks from the station proper her heart was pounding furiously, although her face showed only a sweet and trusting smile. No one stopped them here, and with a sigh of relief Hester followed on, trying to quiet the rattle of the golf clubs and gradually lagging behind her eager friend.
Now, just before them, rose the circle of a wide newsstand, beyond which were two exits, one on either side of the station. Betty was moving toward the left-hand exit and here, in a second, Hester saw her opportunity. Sheltered by the newsstand, she had only to steer quickly toward the right-hand exit and then, before Betty could even suspect that she was missing, make her getaway into the myriad streets of London. It was too easy and the girl was already gloating over the trick as finally turned when her heart froze within her, for there at the corner of the newsstand were the cold gray eyes she knew so well fixed pitilessly on her. Grimes of Scotland Yard!
It was a critical moment for Hester. Had she weakened by the quiver of an eyelash, had she started ever so slightly, the detective would have taken her there and then, for he remembered her well and the suspicious circumstances of that sable cloak episode. But she, schooled in self-control, swept on serenely without a sign of recognition. Grimes turned and followed her.
"Caught with the goods," muttered the girl, and faint with fear but unfaltering, she swung back to the left in Betty's wake, for here now was her only hope of safety. Grimes was close behind.
As they reached the street, Betty nodded for a taxicab and gave her things to a chauffeur, who came forward eagerly. Then, seating herself on the cushions, she turned pleasantly to Hester.
"It was good of you to carry that heavy bag. I'll take it in here—that's right. Remember I'm at the Savoy for a day or two with Mr. Hiram Baxter. And here is our address in Surrey. There." And, smiling most cordially, she gave Hester her card.
"Hiram Baxter! The American millionaire!" reflected Grimes, puzzled, but still confident.
"You'll come to see me, won't you?" called the fair young woman as the taxicab rolled away.
"Yes," answered Hester, her dark eyes glowing on the ravished golf bag. "I'll come."
Then, with quiet self-possession, she turned and her eyes met Grimes.