Half an hour later she was knocking at the door of room 1214 in the Southland Hotel. The door was opened by one who remained invisible. Pen walked in with her heart in her mouth. Blanche was behind the door. She was smoking a cigarette. At the sight of Pen's face she laughed.
"For Mike's sake don't look so scared, sister. Any bull would arrest you on suspish with that face. Where is he?"
"I shook him off in the store," said Pen.
"Good work!" Blanche seemed disposed to be friendlier, but was still wary. She said offhand: "Just to be fair and aboveboard I ought to tell you I carry a gun, sister." She held up the little beaded bag. It had no draw-string, and she carried it clutched about the neck. When she relaxed her grasp it opened wide revealing a wicked little automatic among her make-up.
Pen shrank back, and Blanche laughed again. "You are a tender sprout!"
"Is that boy coming up here?" asked Pen anxiously.
"Sure!"
"Couldn't I talk to you without him?"
"Nothing doing! It 'ud hurt his feelings."
"I've got things to tell you I couldn't say before a man!"