The woman's lips curled.
"And run the risk of being detected before leaving the carriage after all my trouble? No, indeed," she scornfully returned. "My coup de gracé was just after ringing Doctor Wesselhoff's bell, while we stood together on the steps; the package was not large, though valuable, and it was but the work of a moment to transfer it from your pocket to mine, while you stood there with your arms full."
Ray regarded her wonderingly. She must have been very dextrous, he thought, and yet he remembered now that she had turned suddenly and brushed rather rudely against him.
"And in St. Louis—" Mr. Rider began.
Mrs. Montague flushed, and a wary gleam came into her eye.
"Yes, of course," she interrupted, hastily; "I was also the Mrs. Walton, of St. Louis. It was very easy to hire an extra room under that name."
"And your agent was—who?" continued Mr. Rider.
"That does not matter," she retorted, sharply. "You have found me out. I have recklessly explained my own agency in these affairs, but you will not succeed in making me implicate any one else."
"Very well; we will question you no further upon that point now," said the detective; "but it does not take a very wise head to suspect who was your accomplice, and I imagine it will not take a great deal of hunting, either, to find him," and Mr. Rider resolved to make a bee line for the Fall River boat the moment he could get through with his business there. "And now, gentlemen," he resumed, turning to the lawyers and Ray, "I think we'll close this examination here, and I'll take my prisoner into camp."
A cry of horror burst from Mrs. Montague's blanched lips at this remark.