“Yes; to be sure,” responded Merriam, more tamely. “Balcomb’s pretty crooked, I’ve no doubt, but he couldn’t have taught Ezra Dameron any cussedness. You needn’t try to mitigate this thing.”
“You know I’m not trying to. I want to do the best thing and the right thing. You are not anxious for publicity.”
“Most certainly not.”
“We’ve got to approach Miss Dameron, and tell her the whole matter. It is not a pleasant thing to do, but if we get her help—if that should seem the best way—”
They were deeply engrossed and did not hear the bell or the Japanese boy opening the front door.
“Uncle Rodney!”
Both men sprang to their feet. Zelda stood in the library door.
“Glad to see you, Zee,” said her uncle, quietly.
She looked from one to the other and nodded to Morris.
“You don’t look so awfully glad, I must say. If I’ve come in upon a conspiracy I’ll take myself off. The gloom here is so thick you could grow mushrooms in it.”