She laughed.
"Why do you laugh?"
"I laugh because if he were dead there would be no earthly reason for your not saying so at once. But I hate money, the name of it, the sound of it, the sight of it. It is at the bottom of all wars and crimes. I despise it!"
"The root of all evil. Yet it performs many noble deeds. But never mind the money. Let us give our attention to this personal. Doubtless it originated in the same mind which conceived the letter. Your father would never have inserted such a personal. What! Give his enemies a chance to learn his secret? No. On the other hand, I want you to show this personal to all you meet to-day, Susan, the reporter, to everybody. Talk about it. Say that you wonder what you shall do. Trust no one with your real thoughts."
"Not even you, Mr. Jones," thought the girl as she nodded.
"And tell them that you showed it to me and that I appeared worried."
That night there was a meeting of the organization called the Black Hundred. Braine asked if any one knew what the Hargreave butler looked like.
THAT NIGHT THERE WAS A MEETING OF THE ORGANIZATION