"Gertrude!" he cried, springing forward; and neither of them realized that he was holding both her hands in his strong, eager clasp.
"Yes," she answered. "It is I."
"But what—where—where have you been?" stammered Allingham. "How did you get here?"
"Through your back window," said Gertrude, "to answer the last question first. The other needs a longer answer; but if you'll come with me I can show you the place and get poor Mary out—for she is 'ill and in prison.' But you'd better get help, for the place where we've been confined is watched, I should say."
"I'll get Bailey. Please sit down and wait quietly." And Allingham led her to his most comfortable chair. "I'll be back in two minutes." And he went out, clicking the latch together after him.
"A prisoner again," said Gertrude to herself. "But this time a safe one, thank God."
It was hardly sixty seconds before Allingham was around the corner and entering the drug-store where Bailey had promised to be. He was there, waiting.
"O, Bailey, she is safe. She is found. She is in my office," said Allingham, in a low, rapid tone.
"Mary? Thank God!—where?" said Bailey.
"Mary?—no, Gertrude—Miss Van Deusen, I mean," he stammered, wonderingly. "Mary Snow is still incarcerated somewhere about here. Come quick. I'll telephone for the chief again. He cannot have got to bed yet."