"The blackguard!" groaned the old man in helpless wrath.
Mrs. Janney wasted neither time nor energy in futile passion. She attacked another side of the situation.
"What are we to do with Miss Maitland? You can't arrest her."
"Certainly not. She's a very important person and we must have her under our eye. You must treat her as if you entirely exonerated her from all blame—maintain the attitude you took just now when talking with her. If my immediate plan should fail our best chance of getting Bébita without publicity and an ugly scandal will be through her. She must have no hint of what we think, must believe herself unsuspected, and free to come and go as she pleases."
"You mean she's to stay on with us?" Mr. Janney's voice was high with indignant protest.
"Exactly—she remains the trusted employee with whose painful position you sympathize. It won't be difficult, for you won't see much of her. You'll naturally stay here in town till Bébita is found. What I intend to do with her is to send her back to Grasslands with a competent jailer—" he paused and pointed where Molly sat, silent and almost forgotten.
For a moment the Janneys eyed her, questioning and dubious, then Mrs. Janney voiced their mutual thought:
"Is Mrs. Babbitts, alone, a sufficient guard?"
The lawyer smiled.
"Quite. Miss Maitland doesn't want to run away. She knows too much for that. No position could be better for our purpose than to leave her—apparently unsuspected—alone in that big house. She will be confident, possibly take chances." He turned on Molly, glowering at her from under his overhanging brows. "The safest and quickest means of communication with Grasslands, when the family is in town and the servants ignorant of the situation, would be the telephone."