"It ain't your picnic now, you see," he went on, persuasively. "I've done your job. You pay me and I'm done with you. I'll follow this up on my own hook, and you needn't be one mite afraid of getting dragged in."
If a look could have killed him, he and his secret would at once have sunk through the floor and nevermore been heard of. The look, however, did not kill, and in obstinate pride and with repressed self-satisfaction he presented a folded bill.
Chelda looked over it. "I cannot pay you now," she said, cuttingly.
"No odds,—I don't expect it. It was in the agreement that I'd wait, but you spoke of part payment. My travelling expenses ain't no flea-bite."
Chelda slowly drew her purse from her pocket. "Where is this man now?"
"We've located him in New York."
"We?"
"I,—we is professional. You're inclined to mistrust me, but I swear I'm alone. I'll have no meddling with this job till I'm ready to spring it. I'm planning to trace his exact hang-out through this relative you speak of."
"You know who she is?"
"Yes, ma'am, though you didn't take the pains to tell me, no offence either. You're not bound to tell all you know. I found out all about her. She's the apple of Gentleman George's eye. Of course he writes to her. We'll strike at him through her. I I've a little scheme for scrutinising her husband's mail, but—" and H. Robinson suddenly folded his lips. This young lady was now out of the combine, and he did not like too well the expression in the depths of her inscrutable eyes.