“I must send for both Rex and Pluma,” he said, laying his hands on the beautiful, bowed head; “but, if it will comfort you to be unobserved during the interview, you shall have your wish.” He motioned her to one of the curtained recesses, and placed her in an easy-chair. He saw she was trembling violently.
It was a hard ordeal for him to go through, but there was no alternative.
He touched the bell with a shaking hand, thrusting the certificate and paper into his desk.
“Summon my daughter Pluma to me at once,” he said to the servant who answered the summons, “and bid Mr. Lyon come to me here within half an hour.”
He saw the man held a letter in his hand.
“If you please, sir,” said the man, “as I was coming to answer your bell I met John Brooks, your overseer, in the hall below. A stranger was with him, who requested me to give you this without delay.”
Basil Hurlhurst broke open the seal. There were but a few penciled words, which ran as follows:
“Mr. Hurlhurst,––Will you kindly grant me an immediate interview? I shall detain you but a few moments.
“Yours, hastily,
“Harvey Tudor,
“Of Tudor, Peck & Co, Detectives, Baltimore.”
The man never forgot the cry that came from his master’s lips as he read those brief words.
“Yes, tell him to come up at once,” he cried; “I will see him here.”