"My dear Miss Rowan, I am doing everything that man can do. Believe me that I am. I only wish that your brother had done as he threatened, and walked into the river, before he came to me."
She went away at last. Deane lay back in his chair, feeling absolutely unfit for work. Twice he laid his hand upon the telephone, and twice he withdrew it. Then he turned to his secretary, who had just entered the room.
"Get Mr. Hardaway upon the telephone," he directed. "I want to speak to him."
In a few moments the bell of the instrument by his side tinkled. He put the receiver to his ear.
"Is that Hardaway?" he asked.
"Yes!" was the answer.
"This is Stirling Deane. You remember the subject of our conversation the other night at the theatre? I am referring now to the matter of documents of which you spoke."
"I remember," Hardaway answered.
"In whose possession are those documents at the present moment?" Deane asked.
"In whose possession," Hardaway repeated. "Do you mean—"