"Oh, you are a—Wait!"
For a second time Miss Warren broke off; but now Norvin heard her cry out gladly to some one. He held the receiver patiently until his arm cramped, then rang up again.
"Oh, I forgot all about you, Norvin dear," she chattered. "Vittoria has just come, so I can't talk to you any more. Won't you run out and meet her? I know she's just dying to—She says she isn't, either! Oh, fiddlesticks! You're not so busy as all that. Very well, we'll probably eat the cake ourselves. Good-by!"
"Good-by, Avenger," he laughed.
As he turned away smiling he found Bernie Dreux comfortably ensconced in an office chair and regarding him benignly.
"Hello, Bernie! I didn't hear you come in."
"Wasn't that Myra Nell talking?" inquired the little man.
"Yes."
"You called her 'Avenger.' What has she been up to now?"
Blake handed him the red-hand letter. To his surprise Bernie burst out angrily: