"But what—what am I to do?" gasped the cook, and before she could gasp again one surprised black glove was clutching two ten-dollar bills.
"Arrange for me to see Miss Gardner—alone. It's all right. She and I are old friends."
"But—but how?" helplessly inquired this mistress of all non-intrigantes.
"Isn't there some room where nobody will come in?"
"The library might be best, sir," pointing up the stairway at a door.
"The library, then! And arrange matters so that no one will know we're meeting."
"But, sir, I don't see how—"
"Most simple, Mrs. Cook. Before you go, you, of course, want to bid Miss Gardner good-bye. Just request the lady in black in there with the reporters to tell Miss Gardner that you want to speak to her and will be waiting in the library. When you've said that, you've earned the money. Then just watch your chance until the somber lady isn't looking, and continue with your original plan of leaving the house."
"Perhaps it will work," hesitated the cook. But with a gesture in which there was no hesitation she slipped her minute's pay between the buttons of her waist.