g.
O'Reilly had been kind to Clo!

"She went to see him again!" was the thought in Beverley's mind. "Then,
perhaps, she didn't go back to the Westmorland. What can 'kind' mean,
unless he's promised to help instead of hurt us?"

But she must find out what had happened last between O'Reilly and Clo.
How should she communicate with him? Should she send a note by district
messenger to the Dietz? Or--should she telephone, before Roger came, and
learn all that she wished to know without delay? Quickly she decided
upon this bolder course. She called up O'Reilly's hotel, and soon heard
his "Hello!"

"I'm Mrs. Sands," she explained. "I've a letter from Clo. She sends you
a message."

The voice from the Dietz had sounded indifferent. It was so no longer.

"What news?" O'Reilly asked. "Tell me everything."

She told him, and read Clo's letter to Leontine distinctly, that he
might miss no word. "I understand why it might be dangerous to put an
address, or to write to you or me," Beverley added. "But it's frightful
not to know where she is. Explain what you can quickly, because--I'm
expecting someone."

"Peterson stole your pearls," O'Reilly answered. "He 'phoned Heron and
offered to sell them. He must have been hiding in your room and
overheard our talk. Later, I answered him for Heron. Miss Riley was in
Peterson's room then, and she and I got in touch. She asked through the
'phone if I'd help. I said 'Yes,' and she told me to come with a taxi. I
picked her up outside the hotel, and took her where she wanted to go: a
restaurant, Krantz's Keller. When I'd heard what she had to say I
proposed to employ a private detective. Don't worry; he's absolutely
loyal, and I'm on your side, after all, Mrs. Sands--I may as well
confess it's for Miss Riley's sake. She repented stealing the papers
from me, you know, and sent them back in the envelope just as they
were----"

"Clo sent you the papers! You're mistaken. I know she didn't send them,"
Beverley cried. She had forgotten her fear of being overheard, forgotten
everything, but the sound of a door closing caused her to start. It was
a strange sound just then, because both doors had already been shut when
she went to the telephone, the door leading into her bedroom, the door
into the hall, and she had heard neither open since. Yet she could not
be mistaken. Somebody had closed one of those doors and must previously
have opened it.

Sick with fear, Beverley dropped the receiver and