“No, he is free enough himself, but he can do nothing—it would only make matters worse.”
“Well!” declared Dorothy, “I don’t think much of Uncle Michael if he can’t protect his own daughter.”
Bill stepped into the breach.
“What about the police—can’t you call them in?”
Howard Bright shook his head. “They would only bring this horrible business to a climax,” he explained. “And that is exactly what must not be done. It is more a matter for Secret Service investigation—but I don’t think that even they could be of any real help.”
Bill and Dorothy exchanged a quick glance.
“Have you ever heard of a man named Ashton Sanborn, Mr. Bright?”
“Yes, I have, Mr. Bolton. Wasn’t he the detective who helped you unearth that fiendish scheme of old Professor Fanely?”[[1]]
“Bull’s eye!” grinned Bill. “Only Ashton Sanborn is quite a lot more than a mere detective. And it so happens that he is over at the Waldorf right now, waiting for Dorothy and me to lunch with him. Let me tell you, Bright, it’s a mighty lucky thing for Janet Jordan that he is in town. Come along. We’ll hop a taxi and be with him in ten minutes.”
Howard hung back. “But really—”