"What do you mean?"
"Where is that packet?"
"I haven't it."
"Where is it?"
She shook her head slightly.
"You had a packet," he insisted fiercely. "Look here! Regard!" and he spread out a penciled sheet in Clinch's hand:
* * * * *
"Jose Quintana:
"You win. She's got that stuff with her. Take your damn junk and let my girl go.
"Mike Clinch."