The timing and arrangement of the situation was flawless. Barraclough with his hands upheld, Harrison Smith masking the persuasive automatic from the view of the two girls and Dirk's fingers travelling caressingly toward the pocket in which his mascot reposed. It was hugely dramatic. Flora and Jane, robbed for the moment of the power of speech and action, clung to one another on the far side of the room, their gaze riveted on their hero, who, in this moment of crisis, was whistling a bar of ragtime and accepting defeat with smiling eyes.
Harrison Smith's left hand ran professionally over the contours of
Barraclough's coat to satisfy himself that there was no concealed weapon.
"Most opportune," he remarked, "and we had almost despaired of seeing you." Then in a lower voice—"All right, but no games."
"Thank you," said Barraclough, and lowering his arms he walked slowly to the writing table.
"And now you two nice little girls," said Harrison Smith, rubbing his hands together, "cut along and pick flowers. Much too nice an evening to be spending your time indoors. Off you go."
There was certainly a better chance of getting help if they could escape.
Nothing was to be gained by staying. As they passed the table by which
Barraclough was standing he whipped an envelope from his pocket and
thrust it in Flora's hand with the words:
"Post that for me—quick."
Flora seized the envelope and made a dash for the window but hardly covered half the distance before Dirk and Smith closed in upon her, fighting for possession of the paper. It was given to Jane to translate the actual meaning of this extraordinary performance and she alone saw Barraclough take the note case swiftly from his pocket and bury it under the foliage in the basket of roses. The others were too busily engaged to attend to such a trifle.
"Let them have it, Flora," said Barraclough, sweetly. "They are friends of mine. Do as I tell you."
"You girls get out," gasped Harrison Smith, coming down breathlessly with the envelope, and after Flora and Jane had escaped into the garden, "Cornered, Mr. Barraclough, and we've got the goods."