He had seen the girl's hand fly to her hat, saw it drawn suddenly away, saw something slender flash at her breast. But it was too late. She had driven a heavy hat pin straight through her breast, piercing the heart. She died in the arms of the man she loved, with his tears on her face.
Detective Mallory appeared before the two prisoners in an adjoining room.
"Miss Clarke has confessed," he said.
"Well, the little devil!" exclaimed Meyer. "I knew some day she would throw us. I'll kill her!"
"It isn't necessary," remarked Mallory.
* * * * *
In the room where the girl lay The Thinking Machine pushed with his foot the shabby-looking grip toward President Fraser and West.
"There's the money," he said.
"Where--how did you get it?"
"Ask Mr. Hatch."