"Don't—don't do anything—rash," she begged.
Her hand rested lightly on his arm. Their eyes met. He smiled grimly.
"Don't worry. Mebbe I'll call you up later tonight and report progress."
He walked to the nearest drug-store and used the telephone freely. At the end of fifteen minutes he stepped out of the booth. His cousin Jack was doing some evening work at the offices where he was now in charge of settling up his uncle's affairs.
Kirby found him there. A man stenographer was putting on his coat to leave, but Jack was still at his desk. He looked up, annoyed.
"Was that you telephoned me?" he asked.
"Yes."
"I told you I'd let you know when I wanted to see you."
"So you did. But you didn't let me know. The shoe's on the other foot now. I want to see you."
"I'm not interested in anything you have to say."