“Who was it?” questioned Eleanor breathlessly, while the others hung on his words.
“The servant who admitted him.”
“Fugi!” gasped Thornton. “My God! I believe you’re right. But the motive, man?”
“An international intrigue.” Douglas caught the Secretary’s eye, who nodded appreciatively. “Miss Thornton has already stated that Senator Carew told her that he had discovered proof of a plot against this country, that the secrets of this government were being betrayed, that he knew the names of the spy or spies, and that he was on the way to inform the Secretary of State. Concealed in one of the portières, Fugi overheard all this, and, to save his own life, killed Senator Carew.”
“You’ve solved it,” declared Brett, rising. “I’ll run over to your house now, Miss Thornton, and catch Fugi before he can get away.”
“I don’t think you’ll find him there,” interposed Eleanor. “Mrs. Truxton went out in my motor for a drive this afternoon, and Fugi, who acts as chauffeur as well as butler, is driving the car. I expect them here at any moment.”
“So much the better.”
“There is a car drawn up alongside of mine now,” exclaimed the Secretary, who had gone over to the window overlooking the street.
Brett started for the door, but, before he reached it, it was flung open and Mrs. Truxton precipitated herself into the room. Her hat was cocked on one side in the most rakish manner and her flushed face testified to her perturbed state of mind.
“I’ve found you, Mr. Secretary!” she exclaimed, slamming the door shut. “Don’t go,” as Brett moved past her. “I went to your house, then to the State Department——” She stopped, breathless.