"Blake," he said, aloud, "I must take the first train to New York."
"Why, what's up, partner?" asked Blake, in surprise. "Anything gone wrong?"
"On the contrary, I see a chance of making a good haul."
"How?"
"Not in our line. It's some private business of my own."
"All right. I wish you success. When will you return?"
"That I can't exactly say. I will write or telegraph you."
In the evening of the same day Mrs. Vernon sat in her room at the Fifth Avenue Hotel. A servant brought up a card bearing the name of John Hartley.
"He is prompt," she said to herself, with a smile. "Probably he has not heard of Althea's escape from the den to which he carried her. I will humor him, in that case, and draw him out."