I must go at once to Detective Headquarters. I go with a greater courage, a newer, happier faith in human nature, inspired by you—the most loyal friend a man ever had. My life—my love are yours. I pray God that soon I can stand before you cleared of all suspicion, and ask the question which honor forbids while I am under a cloud.
Julian.
Barclay folded the note and addressed it, then catching up with Norcross and Ogden, and with Mitchell at his heels, hastened into the lower hall. Charles, much agitated, met them at the foot of the staircase, and before he could speak, Barclay thrust the note into his hand with a Treasury bill.
“Take this note at once to Miss Ethel,” he directed.
“Yes, sor,” promised Charles. “Mr. Ogden, luncheon is served, sor.”
“Well, thank Heaven for small mercies!” ejaculated Ogden. “Come on in, Norcross.”
CHAPTER XXIII
THE MIDNIGHT VISITOR
The loud imperative ringing of the front door-bell reached Walter Ogden’s ears, and making a sign to Maru Takasaki commanding silence, he tip-toed softly across the library and listened behind the portières. It was some moments before Charles appeared, struggling into his coat.
“Sure, be aisy,” Ogden heard him mutter, as the bell pealed again. Reaching the front door the butler pulled it open with some force, but the sight of a tall well-dressed man standing in the vestibule checked his inclination to be impertinent.
“No, sor, Misther Ogden is not home,” the butler’s loud voice reached Ogden. “And Mrs. Ogden is sick in bed; no, nothin’ serious, sor, just enough to have Dr. McLane.”