"I wish Chuff would come, and get it over!" she heard Churn sigh aloud, in his sweet, foreign-sounding voice.

"I wonder why he went out?" said Kit. "He ought to have been home all evening. He was expecting Pete on business, you know."

"Can he have got onto de reason dat fellah Pete didn't come?"

"No, no," Kit answered. "I've told you a dozen times no! He wouldn't have gone to the Westmorland. Pete had to call on him. But there must have been something important to take Chuff out."

"Vat vas de plan?"

"Oh, what does it matter? To-night's changed everything for me, and you, too. You are goin' to stand by me, aren't you, Churn, through thick and thin?"

"You bettcha life! For de whole of vot I'm vorth!"

Kit's tone changed. She chuckled. "You may be worth a lot. You've married a rich heiress. See?"

"Sh, girl! If Chuff comes spyin' on us we don't vant him to hear dat word 'married.' He'd only laugh—or vorse."

"All right! But he ain't our master any more. We can do without him."

"Maybe he von't tink he can do vidout us."

"He'll have to, when we get something good on the pearls. And say, I never thought you could kill any one and feel no more than I do now. Churn, if you'd been there, you'd 'a' settled his hash long before I did. The things he said to me—and me your wife! It makes me sick to think o' them—and of him, the low beast!"

"Don't tink, den. Tink of me."

"I do. I love you, Boy! The minute I lamped the pearls—when I sensed they was real—I meant to get 'em, for you and me to set up house far away somewheres on our own. We can go to Buenos Aires or some place south, where they love a nice voice like yours, so you won't feel wasted. If Chuff knew what we've got here in this table drawer!"

"Better tie 'em up in your handkerchief again. If Chuff——"

"Oh, Chuff nothing! I feel in my bones, now he's so late, he won't come home to-night. I don't care what happens to Chuff. Let's go to bed."

"No—not yet. I vait."

"Peterson thought he could say what he liked to me, the pig!" Kit went on. "Well, he's paid. His blood's on his own head. Oh, Churn, it was on his head, every sense o' the word! I didn't like the look of it—turned me sick! Lucky my long cloak was in the room. See—on my dress, two stains! Boy, that trunk stunt was awful. You've got to let me go to bed and sleep, or I believe I'll have hysterics and yell the house down. I thought I was all right since I found you, but it's comin' on again, that tremblin'!"

"Go to bed, den, girl. I vait. Dat's easy."

"I will. Just one more look at the pearls—our pearls! But I lost one. I heard it roll. It was so close to him I—I couldn't——"

"Don't you care. Dere's a lot for us. We'll count 'em first ting to-morra', ven ve both feel like ourselves."

"They ought to fetch a king's ransom, Boy."

"Dey vill not, den. Dere'll be all de bulls in N'York after em. Joke on us, dough, if Chuff was in de deal mit Pete!"

"I'm sure he wasn't—dead sure."

Silence fell. When the pair spoke again it was of other things. At last Clo fell suddenly fast asleep, on the floor. She knew that Beverley's pearls were in the next room. That had to be enough for the night.

The girl slept till dawn. Waking, she was astonished to find herself on the floor, and for an instant could not remember what had happened. But in a flash it all came back. Quickly she got up and quietly undressed, putting on Mrs. MacMahon's immense nightgown before she dropped thankfully upon the cot bed. Clo did not sleep again, but lay until eight o'clock, when her neighbours began to stir. Then she listened once more at the hole in the wall until she feared that Violet might come with breakfast. The woman had suggested bringing it at nine, and lest she should wonder why the hungry girl hadn't supped, the milk had to be hastily poured away and the bread and ham hidden. The bed had also to be lifted into place covering the hole in the wall.

Nothing of special interest had been said by Kit and her husband since their waking, but soon the young woman began to concern herself with the subject of clothes.

"I told Mrs. MacMahon we expected our baggage this morning from Brooklyn. If it doesn't come it's been stolen—see? The old party won't think wrong of Chuff's pals. He's a real family friend. Gee, all sorts of things happen in a house like this! Before long we'll 'phone Isaacs to come along and look at the pearls. Chuff's got a 'phone in his room, you know."

Clo knew also. She had good reason to know, and that Chuff had lent his telephone book to "Jake."

As Violet kicked on the door (her hands being occupied with the tray) Clo hastily stuffed a handkerchief into the hole she had made in the wall. She feared that the pair in the next room might take alarm at the sound of voices, and therefore she cautiously subdued her own. She hadn't slept well, she answered Violet's question. Her head ached, and perhaps she might lie in bed the rest of the day. The promised reward was given, and more offered if Violet would find time to buy toilet articles, and a few clothes. She was begged to bring writing paper also; there might be a letter to send by express delivery.

The coffee, though weak, was hot, and Clo felt revived after drinking it. Once more she placed the bed across the door, pulled out the handkerchief "gag" from the hole in the wall, and thus, on sentinel duty, finished her breakfast.

Later in the day the couple next door resigned themselves to the indefinite absence of Chuff. "Mrs. Mac" herself came up to see her guests, who called themselves Mr. and Mrs. Stahl. The landlady talked of Mr. Cheffinsky as her "star boarder," and said that she was used to his "queer ways." Often he stopped away from home a day or two, but she never worried. He always came back. The "Stahls" were voluble over the non-arrival of their luggage, which seemed to vex them more than the appearance of Cheffinsky, their old friend. Whether or not Mrs. MacMahon believed the story, at all events she agreed to supply the needs of Mr. and Mrs. Stahl, ordering a list of things for their selection. This arrangement raised Clo's hopes. Maybe Churn and Kit intended to venture out! If they went for a short airing, they would probably leave the pearls at home. In their absence Clo would somehow get into the room next door. With Beverley's jewels recaptured, her mission in this house would be accomplished.

But she was doomed to disappointment. After writing her hopeful letter to LÉontine, Clo's expectations of quick success were dashed. Kit and Churn received the clothes they wanted, but did not go out; nor did they audibly plan to go. Their intention was to eat downstairs, but they would take turns. One would always keep guard over the pearls. Newspaper mention of the "girl in pink" had scared them. After a heated argument they decided that, till they "saw how the wind blew," they would not risk sending for Isaacs. This was a sacrifice, because they wished to dispose of the pearls before Cheffinsky came "nosing around"; but they were not sure of Isaac's loyalty. Who could tell what he might do, if tempted by big bribes to "frame" his pals? They must wait; and so must Clo.

Days passed. The girl still posed as an invalid taking a rest-cure, and her tips to Violet were generous. Once she heard Kit inquiring who lived in the next room; but Mrs. Mac's answer was satisfactory. A poor little mite of a thing, out of a job as lady's maid, was their neighbour; Irish, and recommended by an old client.

Nine days lagged on, and then at last Clo came upon a "personal" in the newspaper she took in. Instantly she realized that it was meant for her, and put in by Justin O'Reilly. It was so worded that no "outsider" could guess its meaning. "C.R. from her cousin who is just in," was the heading which caught her eye. He knew that she knew his name was Justin; and she had first introduced herself as his cousin! "Working out Sunday's problem with expert help," she read, "Message received insufficient. Won't you let me know where you are?"

The girl dared not answer by letter or newspaper. Violet would undertake any errand, but she could not be trusted for a mission of such importance. O'Reilly must be content with the message passed on by Mrs. Sands.

On the ninth day Kit and Churn had a serious quarrel. The man insisted on going out. He could stand his imprisonment no longer; not for Kit, not for the pearls!

Clo was not on sentinel duty when the explosion came. The hole in the wall was open (she stuffed it up only when someone knocked, lest the pair should take alarm at the clearness of sounds), but it was late in the afternoon of a blazing hot day, and the girl lay on her narrow bed, disgusted with life. She had now paid for a second week in advance. There wasn't money to go on with for long, at the present rate, and she knew not how to get more, but it was too hot to trouble about the future. The quarrel next door was so sordid that Clo had ceased to listen, when suddenly the names "Olga and Stephen," spoken loudly by Kit, waked her from a half doze. With the light swiftness of a cat she sprang off the bed, and went to her post.