The girl was white, but she made no attempt to get out of the tonneau.
"I'm not going to leave, Uncle Amos," said she. "I want to hear more of this talk."
"You will please obey me, Amy, and leave the car."
"It is your car," she answered, "and I haven't any right to stay in it if you don't want me to."
Cameron opened the door for her and held out his hand to help her down. She paid no attention to the extended hand, but passed into the hotel.
"Before we begin," proceeded Murgatroyd, "let me ask you if you recognize this watch."
He offered the timepiece as he finished.
"It's Matt's!" exclaimed McGlory, snatching the watch.
"Him Motol Matt's clock, allee light," breathed Ping. The hotel proprietor was the only person, besides Cameron, McGlory, and Ping, within reach of the broker's words.
"This conversation is of a private nature, Brackett," said Murgatroyd significantly, "even though it is taking place in the street in front of your hotel."