The moment the door had shut, McKenna had the two letters out of his pocket.
"Two letters from the same lady," he said, tossing one to Beecher. "Both messages the same, too, I'll bet. Of course!"
He laughed and extended the letter to Gunther, who read:
DEAR MR. MCKENNA:
The ring has just been returned. Can I see you at once? Take no further measures.
RITA KILDAIR.
McKenna was a changed man. All the indecision had left him. His eyes were sparkling with pleasure and he was laughing to himself, as he took up the telephone.
"Here, give me Clancy," he cried impatiently. "Hello. What's the matter with Brady; hasn't he come back with that information yet? He has? Well, why the devil—send in the figures! Quick!"
A moment later a slip was in his hand and he was gazing at it eagerly.
"Mr. Beecher, give me half an hour's start—no, better, three quarters of an hour. Wait—have you got a car? Good. Drive me up to Mrs. Kildair's as fast as you can get me there."