"I'll undertake it willingly—not only to give you any help I can, but because it will be a good thing for me. Don't be shocked at my plain speaking, but I want to be frank and straight with you. I'm not referring to pay—we can arrange about that later—it's work done for the Janney family, successful work. And with your coöperation, Mrs. Price, this is going to be successful. Now let's get to business." He picked up the letter and glanced over it. "Headed 'Clansmen' and signed 'S. O. S.' I'll copy it, insert my name and address, and have it in to-morrow's Daily Record. Then we'll see what happens."
He smiled at her, reassuring and kindly. There was no response in her tragic face.
"It may be days before they answer," she murmured.
But he was determined to uphold her fainting spirit.
"I think not. They want to end this thing as quickly as they can—get their loot and go. You've got to remember that their position is terribly dangerous and at the first sign from us they'll get busy."
She rose, took the letter and put it in her purse:
"I hope to Heaven you're right. It's so awful to wait."
"I don't think you'll have to. They'll see our answer to-morrow morning and I'll expect a move from them by that evening or the next day. If they communicate with me, I'll let you know at once, and if you hear, do the same by me. It's going to be all right. Keep up your courage and remember—not a word or a sign to any one."
"Oh, I know," she said, drawing down her veil with limp hands, "you needn't be afraid I'll spoil it. You thought me a fool, perhaps, when I first consulted you, and I was, bothering about things that didn't matter—jewels! There isn't one of us that hasn't forgotten all about them now. Good-by. No, don't come out with me. I have a taxi waiting."