"To the St. Cyngia on Ninety-fifth Street—and hurry!" she commanded; and the chauffeur slammed the door.
"Now what's the matter?" demanded Rimrock hurriedly. "I haven't got a minute to spare. Did you notice Navajoa? Well, I've got a buy order in——"
"Oh, no! I've seen nothing—not since he sent me that message! It seems he's back in town."
"Who? Whitney Stoddard? Well, let me get out then—I've got to get back to that tape!"
"Oh, no!" she murmured sinking against him with a shudder, "don't go and leave me alone. I need your help, Rimrock! My whole fortune is involved. It's either that or give back the stock."
"What stock?" asked Rimrock, "that two thousand Tecolote? Well, you just give that to me! Have you really got it, or are you just stalling? Let me look at it and I'll see you through hell!"
"It's in my apartment," she answered weakly. "I'll show it to you when we are there. Ah, Rimrock, something told me you would come to save me. But—oh, I'm ready to fall."
She dropped against him and the startled Rimrock took her quickly within his arm. They rode on swiftly and as she lay panting on his breast she told him the story of her misfortune.
"I don't deserve it," she said, "to have you help me, because I started to do you a wrong. I didn't know you then, nor your generous heart—and so I made the agreement with Stoddard. I was to go to Gunsight and get acquainted with you and get you to come back to New York—and for that I was to receive two thousand shares of Tecolote stock. Oh, not as a present—I'd never think of that—but far below what they are worth. It would take all the money I had in the world just to make a part payment on the stock. But I knew how wonderfully valuable they were and so I took the chance."
She sighed and leaned against him closer while Rimrock listened eagerly for the rest.