The immediate corollary is that from the moment we do that, to-morrow morning for instance, every gift, every offering here is suddenly refused. What reason do we give? If it were only the donors who were to be considered it might be done. It's human nature that ninety-nine out of every hundred of them"—his voice rose a little bitterly—"would probably be only too glad to get their money back—and the mere statement that you, as the Patriarch's grand-niece, his only relative, on mature thought did not consider the project as planned advisable might suffice. But this thing goes beyond that, beyond even the remaining few who are earnestly interested and would cause us trouble—it is world-wide in its publicity! Every newspaper in the land would snatch at it for a headline, and ask—why? And they would not be content with simply asking why—this thing is too big for that—too much before the people's eyes—too good 'copy.' They'd start in to find out—and the result is inevitable. Our safety so far has lain in the fact that there has been no suspicion aroused; but snooping around a bank vault at midnight with a mask on and a bull's-eye lantern fades to a whisper as a suspicion-arouser compared with anybody willingly coughing up a bunch of money once they've got their claws on it—and a yellow journal, let alone an army corps of them, on the scent of a possible sensation has all the detective bureaus in the country pinned to the ropes—they'd have us uncovered quicker than I like to think about it—and that means—"
He stopped, and with a hurried motion, carried his hands across his eyes—Helena, pure as one of God's own angels now, to come to that, to come to—
It was the Flopper who completed the sentence.
"Ten spaces up de river," said the Flopper, and shivered, and his tongue sought his lips; "or mabbe—mabbe twenty."
Pale Face Harry stirred uneasily.
"There's the other way," he said without looking up, his eyes on his finger nail that traced the grain of the wood again. "Get the money and the sparklers all done up and addressed to the ones they came from, send 'em off in a bunch to Thornton—and we fly the coop before he gets them, disappear, fade away—and take our chances of getting caught."
"An' den it's all off wid me an' Mamie"—the Flopper's face grew hard. "Nix on dat! Dat don't go!"
"We cannot do that, Harry," said Helena, in a tired voice. "There is—the Patriarch."
"Yes," said Madison, beginning his stride up and down the room again. "After all, whether we could give back the money without being caught, or whether we couldn't, is not the vital thing; there is—the Patriarch."
Helena's eyes were on the silent figure in the shadows by the fireplace.