“Carry out your orders. You do not know all the scheme, remember.”
“I understand. I’ll obey.”
Then she hurried out.
At eleven o’clock the bell tinkled again, and Verbeck admitted another of the band. This one, too, was a woman. She appeared timid, whereas the first had given every indication of being used to this sort of thing. Her hand trembled as she wrote her number on the board. Then she gave her countersign and waited.
Evidently she was not working on a case, but had reported to get orders. Verbeck had no orders ready for her, for her number had not been on the list he had found in the Black Star’s book. Apparently this was her first visit, or else the Black Star had not contemplated making use of her at the present time.
He took orders he had printed for one of the others and put them on the end of the table, motioning for her to pick them up and read. As she advanced toward the table, Verbeck found that her eyes were upon him, and she seemed afraid to touch the envelope. She opened it finally, read quickly, and Verbeck thought she gave a little cry. She staggered backward, but seemed to regain her composure as he started forward to aid her, and backed away from him. The sheet of paper fluttered from her hand to the floor.
Verbeck stooped and picked it up, and handed it to her. She did not seem to see it—she was looking down at Verbeck’s hand. Like a wild thing, she whirled around and rushed back to the blackboard and seized the chalk.
“Where did you get that ring?” she wrote rapidly.
Verbeck answered on his board:
“Why? Do you fancy it?”