"Don't try to jump," she said. Her eyes caught the vague light in a wide glimmer, half frightened. "I don't know what to make of you."
Dalgetty drew a long breath and sat upright, bracing himself on the cold slippery stone. "I know who you are," he said.
"Who, then?" she challenged.
"You're an FBI agent planted on Bancroft."
Her gaze narrowed, her lips compressed. "What makes you think so?"
"Never mind—you are. That gives me a certain hold on you, whatever your purposes."
The blond head nodded. "I wondered about that. That remark you made to me down in the cell suggested—well, I couldn't take chances. Especially when you showed you were something extraordinary by snapping those straps and bursting the door open. I came along with the search party in hope of finding you."
He had to admire the quick mind behind the wide smooth brow. "You damn near did—for them," he accused her.
"I couldn't do anything suspicious," she answered. "But I figured you hadn't leaped off the cliff in sheer desperation. You must have had some hiding place in mind and under water seemed the most probable. In view of what you'd already done I was pretty sure you could hold your breath abnormally long." Her smile was a little shaky. "Though I didn't think it would be inhumanly long."
"You've got brains," he said, "but how much heart?"