No," she said so positively that it was annoying. "That won't do me at
all."

"But it's what you got," I reminded her rather unkindly, and then was
sorry I'd done it. "It's what you got for me--and I thank you for it."

"You needn't," she came back at me--spunky little thing. "It isn't worth
thanking anybody for. It's only a partial fact."

"And you think half truths are dangerous?" I smiled at her.

"There isn't any such thing," she instructed me. "Even _facts_ can
hardly be split into fractions; while the truth is always whole and
complete."

"As far as you see it," I amended. "For instance, you insist on keeping
the gang all under Clayte's hat--or you did at first. Now you're
refusing to believe, as both Worth and I believe, that Steve Skeels is
Clayte himself. I should think you'd jump at the idea. Here's your
Wonder Man."

She leaned back in her chair and laughed. I was glad to hear the sound
again, see the dimples flicker in her cheeks, even if she was laughing
at me.

"A wonderful Wonder Man, Mr. Boyne," she said. "One who does things so
bunglingly that you can follow him right up and put your hand on him."

"Not so I could," I reminded her gaily. "So you could. Quite a different
matter." She took my compliment sweetly, but she said with smiling
reluctance,

"I'm not in this, of course, except that your kindness allowed me to be
for this day only. But if I were, I shouldn't be following Skeels as you
are. I'd still be after Clayte."

"It foots up to the same thing," I said rather tartly.

"Oh, does it?" she laughed at me. "Two and two are making about three
and a half this afternoon, are they?"

"What we've got to-day ought to land something," I maintained. "You've
been fine help, Barbara--" and I broke off suddenly with the knowledge
that I'd been calling her that all through the rush of the work.

"Thank you." She smiled inclusively. I knew she meant my use of her name
as well as my commendation. I began clearing my desk preparatory to
leaving. Worth was going to take her home and as he brought her coat, he
spoke again of the suitcase.

"Hey, there!" I remonstrated, "You don't want to be lugging that thing
with you everywhere, like a three-year-old kid that's found a dead cat.
Leave it where it is."

"Give me an order for it then," he said. And when I looked surprised,
"Might need that box, and you not be in the office."

"Need it?" I grumbled. "I'd like to know what for."

But I scribbled