"Good Lord! Max can't insist on your giving yourself up. Why, that's absurd!"
"Oh, he doesn't care what becomes of me. It's—it's—" Lilas broke out in a passion: "I never thought I was putting you in his power, and—and Lorelei, too—and Jim, and Mr. Merkle. Of course you won't believe that, but I can't help what you think. I wouldn't blame you for—killing me. Why, I'd go to the chair to keep you people clear, but—those are the facts. Now you've got it all."
"Max sees money in sight, I presume?"
"That's all he sees. Money? My God! He's mad. Why he doesn't talk figures that I understand. It's nothing but blackmail, Bob, and you mustn't stand for it. He's a queer man—he helped me when I was broke; now he'd hitch me to a bull and ticket me up the river, to get that money. Why, he'd strap the coppers on my feet and turn on the juice with his own hand rather than lose this chance."
As her flow of speech died down to apologetic murmurs Bob said gravely: "I never thought Merkle and I could cover a thing like Hammon's death, but, after all, they can't do much to us."
"It's mighty kind of you to say so. I'll stand whatever comes to me; I was thinking more of Lorelei—she's in no condition—"
Bob uttered an exclamation. "You're right! We've got to gain time.
After the baby's born it won't matter so much."
"Max is no fool; he won't wait. Besides, Goldberg's been to see Inspector Snell already on my account, and Snell is in the know. He's holding back warrants now for all of us. I couldn't leave town if I wanted to."
The numbing force of the calamity coming at this of all times fairly stupefied Bob, rendering him incapable of clear analysis or even of the suspicions his ordinary intelligence would have prompted.
"Why doesn't Snell get busy?" he inquired, blankly, at which Lilas lost her patience.