businessmon is allus fer joostice. And what right would ye have tae send them crooked folks back tae steal frae ither folks? No, me leddy-gurril, ye've naethin' more tae do wi' it. Just rest yer heart, my lamb. An' ef ye wantae talk wi' onyboody mair aboot the matter, go call yer feyther's friend, Mr. Worden. Belikes he knows all aboot it by now. Thet young lawyermon seemed mighty fine an' oop-coom-in'. He won't let the grass grow onder his feet. He'll get the right kind of advice, an' stan' by it. Jest ye rest."
So Eden ate her delicate lunch.
"A wee drap o' soup," to quote Janet's description of it, "a coopla crispy bits o' toost, a bit o' the brist of chicken, a cool little slice o' pineapple ice, an' a shred o' angel cake. Don't that soond gude, my lamb?"
So Eden began to plan what she would tell Mr. Worden when she called him up. Would he be at the bank now? And would that Mr. Lorrimer have talked with him yet? Somehow she felt that that young man would have a right, just view of things. He wouldn't be hard on people unless it was necessary, for the safety of others. She would wait a little before calling. Mr. Worden usually went out to lunch at one o'clock. Perhaps she would be able to catch him a little before one. A glance at her watch told her that there was a good half hour yet before she should try to speak with him.
Then her thoughts reverted to Caspar. How fortunate that he had changed his plans. If he had come this morning, it would certainly have complicated things. Caspar would have been impatient. Would have wanted to know what was going on. Would have recalled all his unpleasant memories of the trouble Ellery had made her father, and would probably have advocated vengeance on the Fanes to the limit. She was glad he was not there. And as for keeping it quiet, keeping Caspar in ignorance of what was going on, that would hardly have been possible. Not with police and lawyers coming to question her, especially when he was wanting to see her without any hindrances to talking.
Then she began to look forward to the evening. Would the troubles be settled by that time? Or would some more policemen come barging in and want more interviews? She hoped not.
Up in her own quiet room again she found it impossible to rest. She tried to call Mr. Worden but found he had not returned from his business trip and would probably not be back until the next day sometime. There had been a wire from him saying so, and there seemed to be nobody in the bank just then who could take his place.
She hung up the instrument and sat down perplexed. Oh, if her father were only here! How strange that all this should have to come just after he had left her! And he had tried so hard to make everything plain and straight in her little world for her so there would be no perplexities.
Just then the telephone rang again, and it was Mr. Lorrimer.
"Is that you, Miss Thurston? I'm Lorrimer, your lawyer. They told me you had just called for Mr. Worden, so you know he has not yet returned and that I have not been able to talk with him except briefly on the telephone, just as he was catching another train. But I did learn that he knew of the secret compartment in the desk and that there had been articles left there for you, things of your mother's meant for you. They were to be taken to the bank, after you had gone over them and selected what you wished to keep here. He told me where to find the list of these things, and I have gone over it carefully. None of them are in our vault. Of course, we cannot check definitely until Mr. Worden returns, but I have been comparing notes with the police headquarters, and so far they have discovered a handsome jeweled pin fastened in the coat of the young man, under the sleeve lining. He claims that his girl gave it to him when he went away to war. But so far we can find no record of his having been accepted in either the army or navy, and his mother's stories and his do not agree. We are holding them for
So Eden ate her delicate lunch.
"A wee drap o' soup," to quote Janet's description of it, "a coopla crispy bits o' toost, a bit o' the brist of chicken, a cool little slice o' pineapple ice, an' a shred o' angel cake. Don't that soond gude, my lamb?"
So Eden began to plan what she would tell Mr. Worden when she called him up. Would he be at the bank now? And would that Mr. Lorrimer have talked with him yet? Somehow she felt that that young man would have a right, just view of things. He wouldn't be hard on people unless it was necessary, for the safety of others. She would wait a little before calling. Mr. Worden usually went out to lunch at one o'clock. Perhaps she would be able to catch him a little before one. A glance at her watch told her that there was a good half hour yet before she should try to speak with him.
Then her thoughts reverted to Caspar. How fortunate that he had changed his plans. If he had come this morning, it would certainly have complicated things. Caspar would have been impatient. Would have wanted to know what was going on. Would have recalled all his unpleasant memories of the trouble Ellery had made her father, and would probably have advocated vengeance on the Fanes to the limit. She was glad he was not there. And as for keeping it quiet, keeping Caspar in ignorance of what was going on, that would hardly have been possible. Not with police and lawyers coming to question her, especially when he was wanting to see her without any hindrances to talking.
Then she began to look forward to the evening. Would the troubles be settled by that time? Or would some more policemen come barging in and want more interviews? She hoped not.
Up in her own quiet room again she found it impossible to rest. She tried to call Mr. Worden but found he had not returned from his business trip and would probably not be back until the next day sometime. There had been a wire from him saying so, and there seemed to be nobody in the bank just then who could take his place.
She hung up the instrument and sat down perplexed. Oh, if her father were only here! How strange that all this should have to come just after he had left her! And he had tried so hard to make everything plain and straight in her little world for her so there would be no perplexities.
Just then the telephone rang again, and it was Mr. Lorrimer.
"Is that you, Miss Thurston? I'm Lorrimer, your lawyer. They told me you had just called for Mr. Worden, so you know he has not yet returned and that I have not been able to talk with him except briefly on the telephone, just as he was catching another train. But I did learn that he knew of the secret compartment in the desk and that there had been articles left there for you, things of your mother's meant for you. They were to be taken to the bank, after you had gone over them and selected what you wished to keep here. He told me where to find the list of these things, and I have gone over it carefully. None of them are in our vault. Of course, we cannot check definitely until Mr. Worden returns, but I have been comparing notes with the police headquarters, and so far they have discovered a handsome jeweled pin fastened in the coat of the young man, under the sleeve lining. He claims that his girl gave it to him when he went away to war. But so far we can find no record of his having been accepted in either the army or navy, and his mother's stories and his do not agree. We are holding them for
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