aceway: "Will that be
satisfactory?"

"Perfectly."

Braceway left them, their mask-like faces plainly damaged by anxiety;
their cool, slow utterance slightly humanized by the realization that
they must act at once. In fact, as the detective closed the door of the
private office, Mr. Jones was reaching with long, slender fingers for the
telephone. They would need the best accountant they could find for the
quick work they had promised Braceway.

CHAPTER XX

THE DISCOVERY OF THE JEWELS

Braceway returned to the lobby of his hotel, and, having bought half
a dozen New York newspapers, settled down to wait for a report from
Golson's bureau concerning Morley's movements. A little after eleven he
was called to the telephone.

"Your man caught the eight o'clock train for Baltimore." Golson himself
gave the information. "Delaney also caught it. They got to Baltimore
at nine. Your man took a taxi straight to the shop of an old fellow named
Eidstein, reaching there at twenty minutes past nine. He and Eidstein
went into Eidstein's private office back of the shop and stayed there for
over an hour, in fact until about half-past ten. Your man came out and
went to a down-town hotel. He was there when Delaney, still sticking to
him, managed to get a wire to me telling me what I've just told you."

"Fine!" said Braceway. "What was he doing in the hotel? Did he meet
anybody, or write anything?"

"Delaney didn't say."

"Who's this Eidstein, a pawn broker?"

"No; he's a dealer in antiques: furniture, old gold, old jewels, anything
old. He stands well over there. He's all right. I know all about him."

"That's funny, isn't it?"

"What's funny?"

"That he didn't go to a pawnshop."

"Keep your shirt on," laughed Golson. "The day's not over yet."

"No doubt about that. What about Corning, the loan-shark in Virginia?"

"I've got a man over there, just as you asked. Shall I keep him on?"

"Sure!" snapped Braceway. "Suppose Morley gives Delaney the slip in
Baltimore and doubles back to Corning's! Keep him there all day."

He left the telephone and went up to Bristow's room, No. 717. When he
knocked, the door was opened by a young woman in the uniform and cap
of a trained nurse.

"I beg your pardon," he began, "I got the wrong room, I'm afraid. I----"

"This is Mr. Bristow's room," she said in a low tone. "Are you Mr.
Braceway?"

"Yes."

"Come in, then, please." She stepped back and held open the door. "Mr.
Bri