“Be careful of it,” she warned. “Now give it to me. And close the door.”
Janet lighted the smoky lamp resting on the table, next took it up in her hand. A few papers had fallen upon the floor. The room was still strong with fresh cigarette smoke. Martinez could not have been gone more than five minutes.
And in another five minutes’ time too Martinez’ captors might be back again!
Holding the lamp aloft she peered about for an old chair, her heart beating rapidly, her lips compressed. But all the chairs, the three or four in the room, were old. Her eyes encountered the Mexican girl staring open-mouthed and scared.
“Take the lamp and keep by me,” Janet ordered. “Don’t upset it. What are you shaking for, you ninny?”
“I can’t help it––and you’re so white,” the other whimpered.
“Never you mind me; do as I say.”
Janet swiftly went from one chair to another, turning them about, upside down, all ways. No paper was hidden in or under any one of them, or indeed was there space capable of holding a document. At last she gave up, gazing about in dismay, dread, tears of vexation and anxiety almost rising to her lids. Only one conclusion was to be drawn: the men who had seized the lawyer had found the paper in spite of his precaution.
She examined the chairs a second time feverishly, for time was flying.