“Now for it!” he breathed softly.
He opened the door without any noise and stepped into the hallway. His heart beat a little faster than usual, but he never faltered in what he had set himself to do. Neither did he show in his demeanor what a strain there was upon even his steely nerves.
Briggs was sitting inside a small room off the hall that was his particular domain. The door was open, so that the butler could see everybody who might pass up and down.
His orders were to make sure no one loafed about the palace unless he had business there.
As a public building, many strangers were in the palace during the day. But in the late afternoon and evening, when official business was suspended for the day, only those living in the house, or authorized visitors, could be permitted to remain.
Briggs jumped to his feet and stood in the hall, waiting for orders, as he saw the supposed acting governor coming along from his room.
Rayne was obliged to grip himself as he came face to face with Briggs. This butler was more than a mere servant. He was expected to take on himself the duties of a detective, and, naturally, he was disposed to be suspicious.
The Apache took the bull by the horns.
“Is my secretary in?” he asked sharply—and his imitation of the tones of Jabez Portersham was marvelous.
“Yes, sir,” answered Briggs. “Mr. Morlein is in his office. Shall I send him to you?”