The old man rubbed his hands gleefully. "Good! very good! A mystery about a woman! Come out with it; don't be backward."
"Very well; the woman that I want to inquire about has been known as Cora Weston."
Old Verage fairly bounced out of his seat as he yelled: "Cora Weston! Where is she? What do you know about her?"
"Not quite enough, or I should not have ventured to inquire of you," said Clarence, calmly.
Old Verage tumbled into his chair again. "Then you don't know where she is?" sharply.
"What could you do if I put her in your power?"
"Lock her up in jail, if I wanted to," fiercely.
Little by little Clarence Vaughan extracted from the old man the details of the plausible scheme by which Davlin and Cora had succeeded in transferring a very considerable amount of cash from his pockets to their own. He felt elated at the result of this interview. It placed a weapon in his hands that might be wielded with telling effect when time served.
"Well, you may be able to get even with her yet," he said, rising to go, after Verage had concluded his tirade; "many thanks for giving me some information. I may be able to return the compliment soon."
"But hold on!" cried Verage, as if seized by a new thought; "I say, now, what is all this questioning about?"