"My friend?" Miss Quirtt's eyes rolled, and came dangerously close to crossing, in a futile attempt to express perplexity.
"Yes. The little fellow you sent; the one with the ferret face."
"That clicks," Toffee added helpfully.
Miss Quirtt looked at them unbelievingly. "I didn't send anyone out there," she said, her voice racing uphill, out of control. "I had no intention of going myself, either. That was just a touch of mystery to throw you off the track. I don't intend to give you that brief case at any price. Besides," she added thoughtfully, "I don't know any little ferrets that ... that click."
"I wonder who it was?" Toffee said, deeply absorbed in the question.
The strange, fanatic gleam suddenly burned more brightly in the horrible woman's eyes. "I'm going to ruin you, Marc Pillsworth!" she announced dramatically, her stringy voice rising to such a pitch that it caused one to wonder if she hadn't studied bird calls at one time or another. Then she added as an afterthought, "And I think I'll kill you, too."
"But why?" Marc and Toffee chorused.
Miss Quirtt's eyes rolled again, this time in a painful attempt at coyness. "You promise you won't tell?" she asked foolishly.
Marc and Toffee exchanged a glance that held a full hour's discussion on the woman's mental status.
"Of course not," Toffee said persuasively. "Your secret couldn't be in safer hands."