“Very good! If you will apply tomorrow to Senator Pratt—you know his address—he will engage you as his daughter’s social secretary at twenty-five dollars a week. The Gazette will pay you forty dollars more.”
Nellie Byrd’s pale face bloomed with sudden vivid color. McNew staring at her, read her thoughts, and smiled grimly. He enjoyed startling people.
“What’s the matter?” he demanded.
Nellie’s color receded, leaving her pale. She looked at McNew thoughtfully, apparently trying to fathom him.
“I hoped you could give me a chance to try something besides acting as social secretary,” she syllabled, slowly. “But beggars mustn’t be choosers. I understand the twenty-five dollars, but why the forty. What service do I render the Gazette when I am acting as social secretary for Senator Pratt.”
McNew watched the light coming and going behind the girl’s clear blue eyes. “For the forty dollars,” he answered, slowly. “I wish you to watch and report to me every act of the Countess del Ouro Preto, who is spending the winter with Miss Pratt? Will you do it?”
“No!” If Nellie Byrd was disappointed, she concealed the fact well. Her voice came as calm as ever. “You are mistaken in me, Mr. McNew. I am not a spy.”
“Why not?” McNew shot the question at her. “Why not? Why not? Tell me why not.”
“It is not honorable.”
“Honorable! Honorable! Was Nathan Hale dishonorable? Was Major Andree dishonorable?”