He was there; the carriage was on time; and my lady of mystery was inside. He stepped in and they swung out into Pennsylvania Avenue, noiselessly over the asphalt.
"Should the gold be placed in your hands now, within the hour," she queried solicitously, "would it be necessary for you to know who was the—the thief?"
"It would," Mr. Grimm responded without hesitation.
"Even if it destroyed a reputation?" she pleaded.
"The Secret Service rarely destroys a reputation, Miss Thorne, although it holds itself in readiness to do so. I dare say in this case there would be no arrest or prosecution, because of—of reasons which appear to be good."
"There wouldn't?" and there was a note of eagerness in her voice. "The identity of the guilty person would never appear?"
"It would become a matter of record in our office, but beyond that I think not—at least in this one instance."
Miss Thorne sat silent for a block or more.
"You'll admit, Mr. Grimm, that you have forced me into a most remarkable position. You seemed convinced of my guilt, and, if you'll pardon me, without reason; then you made it compulsory upon me to establish my innocence. The only way for me to do that was to find the guilty one. I have done it, and I'm sorry, because it's a little tragedy."
Mr. Grimm waited.