"She is confined in that house. She was lured there this morning by a forged letter from you instructing her to go there for certain evidence. I did not see her. I understood from their talk that so far she is all right."
"The house is occupied by a woman they call Lorina or Mrs. Mansfield. Handsome, blonde woman of forty; great force of character. She is a member of the gang, perhaps the leader of it. Anyway, they all defer to her. She has a better head than either Jumbo or Foxy. I was taken there to-night for the purpose of having her size me up. Apparently she approved of me."
"I understood that the girl is safe until to-morrow morning. Then they plan"—his voice began to shake here—"to—to do away with her."
"Unless I come across with the paper they want?" I interrupted.
"Whether you do or not," he said grimly. "They have no intention of letting her go. They plan to get you, too, to-morrow."
"How?"
"I don't know. I was not consulted."
"Go on."
"The—the job they are trying to force on me," he faltered, "is to dispose of her body. They chose me because I am not suspected by you, not followed. I am to carry it out of the house piecemeal. Oh—! it's horrible!"
"Steady!" I said. "I promise you that won't be necessary. Any more particulars?"