Her answer came with a deep, sighing breath:
"It may be now—but how can we tell? The first excitement's dying down but that doesn't mean they're not doing anything. Don't think for a moment, because it's worked right so far, that we're out of the woods."
"I'm wise to all that, I know them better than you do. And the fellow that knows has got it all over the fellow that doesn't. Watchful waiting—that's our motto."
"Very well, then let it be watchful. And don't call me up unless it's urgent. I can see you in town when I go in. I won't talk any more. Good-by."
I heard the stillness of a dead wire and then before I let myself think, flew into my room, found a pad and pencil and wrote it down word for word.
[CHAPTER IX—GOOD HUNTING IN BERKELEY]
Two days after his interview with Suzanne, Mr. Larkin came to Berkeley and took a room at the Berkeley Arms. He registered as Henry Childs, and described himself to the clerk as a plumber, who, having had a prosperous year, was looking for a bit of land upon which to build a bungalow.
Berkeley was much too exclusive to permit a hotel within its exclusive limits and the Berkeley Arms was allowed to exist in a small, subdued way as a convenience. It was an unassuming, gray-shingled building, withdrawn behind a lilac hedge, and too near the station to mar the smart and shining elegance of the main street. In it dwelt the shop-keepers who plied a temporary summer trade in the village, and the chauffeurs of the less wealthy cottagers. Here the detective heard much talk of the Janney robbery, and, after he had extended his field of observation to the post-office lobby and Bennett's drug store, Berkeley had no secrets from him.
The public mind was still occupied with all that pertained to Grasslands. He heard of the separation of the Prices, the scene he had made on leaving, and that she hadn't treated him right. Berkeley was on Chapman's side, said she wanted to get rid of him to marry Ferguson. It was hoped that Ferguson—highly esteemed—wasn't going to fall for it; but you couldn't tell, the best men made mistakes. Gossips, who professed an intimacy with the Grasslands kitchens, hinted that Ferguson was "taken with" the secretary. But Berkeley, fattened by prosperity to a gross snobbishness, rejected the idea as vulgar and unfitting.
All this had its value for Mr. Larkin, but it was by accident that he acquired the most illuminating piece of intelligence. Late one afternoon he wandered forth into a road that threaded the woods near Grasslands. The day being warm, the way dusty, he seated himself on a rock to cool off and ponder. While there, concealed by the surrounding trees, he had seen two small boys padding toward him down the road, their heads together in animated debate. Unaware of his presence their voices were loud and his listening ear caught interesting matter. They had been in the forbidden area of Grasslands, had gone to Little Fresh for a bathe, and had almost been caught in the act by a lady and gentleman.