A startled look came upon the face of Dallas; her voice was low and frightened as she exclaimed:
“When was this?”
“Before I began operations upon the safe. Don’t you remember? You opened the office door and listened. You could see nothing, the darkness was so thick. You were frightened; and you whispered: ‘Who’s there?’ Then you went slowly down the hall.”
“You heard this?” she demanded, and her face was pale.
“I did.” He regarded her curiously; then a thought struck him. “By George, it was she after all. She must have stolen away to find Forrester.”
“Forrester!”
“Of course. He was there. I saw them together in the lower hall immediately after you snatched the packet and ran. And Farbush was standing before them wild with passion, and with a revolver in his hand.”
Without a word Dallas arose, went swiftly to a small bookcase at the farther side of the room, and opened a secret and cunningly contrived drawer at its base. Then she turned and he saw that her face was as white as death.
“It’s gone!” she said.
“Not—not—?” he could not finish.