Phœbe came for the money and found it ready for her, tied in a neat parcel.
“Don’t answer any questions during your interview with Elaine,” he advised. “And take care to ask none. Above all, don’t let her suspect you were playing ghost in the graveyard last night.”
Phœbe promised and went home again. At twelve o’clock she carried the package around to the rear stairs, which she was about to mount when Elaine appeared in the doorway above her.
“Stay where you are!” was the harsh command.
The girl resented the words and the tone, so with determination she mounted the stairs. Elaine barred her way.
“You must count the money and give me a receipt,” said Phœbe.
“I’ll count it; but you’ll get no receipt, for you gave none, you miserable little thief!” snarled the woman, rudely snatching the parcel.
“Then, I’ll wait here until you count it.”
“No you won’t. Go down—instantly! And if the money is not all here, to jail you go.”
“I think I’ll see my grandfather,” asserted the girl, more to annoy Elaine than because she wished to visit the helpless old man.