"I believe you are one of them," said Blizzard. "I believe you will catch mine--if you keep on wanting to."
"I must," she said simply.
And then for half an hour there was no sound in the studio but the long-drawn breathing of the legless man. Barbara worked in a kind of grim, exalted silence.
Meanwhile Bubbles was climbing the back stair to his bedroom, where he had left Harry, the secret-service agent, on guard over Barbara. The boy, all out of breath with haste, opened his right fist and disclosed a narrow slip of paper with writing on it.
"The minute he came out of his burrow and started uptown," said Bubbles, "and was out o' sight, I begun to spin my top up and down Marrow Lane. Rose she's moved upstairs, like she said she would."
Harry's eyes sparkled with interest and approbation. "Good girl!" he said.
"I seen her," Bubbles went on, "at an upper window, and when she seed me, she winked both eyes, like as if the sun was too bright for 'em. I winked the same way, and then she lets the paper drop."
Harry took the paper out of the boy's hand, and read: "Nothing done, much doing."
"She's a grand one," said Bubbles. "If he ever gets wise to her, he'll tear her to pieces."
"I'm not worrying about Rose--yet," said Harry. "She knows what she's up against, and she can pull a gun quicker than I can. We used to play getting the drop on each other by the hour."