must be
searched, Clo got the chance she had wanted.

"Miss Blackburne, you're my friend!" she exclaimed. "This means life or
death to me. I'm responsible for that envelope we've lost. Do, for the
love of heaven, tell me what happened in this room while Mrs. Sands went
out and left you here alone."

The pearl-stringer remained silent. She met Clo's great, imploring eyes
without shrinking, but the girl saw that she breathed hard.

"If you don't want me to die, tell me!" Clo implored.

"My child, I would tell you, if I could," she stiffened herself. "But,
you see," she finished, "there's nothing to tell. So, I can't."

XIX

THE BROWN TRUNK

Clo realized that there was no more to be said, since to accuse Miss
Blackburne of lying would make matters worse. When Beverley came back,
to say that the servants had been questioned, and the flat searched in
vain, the girl had made up her mind what to do next. There were two
things, one of which had better be done at once; the second, which must
be done before ten o'clock. The first was to settle with Miss
Blackburne; and get rid of her. The second thing was to keep the
appointment with Peterson. It was more important, Clo thought, to see
him than to see O'Reilly, though she expected Angel to suggest an
immediate talk with O'Reilly in person or by telephone. She hoped to
bring Beverley to her point of view.

"Of course, I rely on you to let me clear myself if you don't find your
pearls the way you hope," Miss Blackburne reminded Beverley. "I'm sure
you'll let me know when you have news. Meanwhile, there's nothing to
stay for, is there? I might as well be with mother."

It was arranged that she should go home in a taxi, to save the time
which must be wasted, waiting for Beverley's car. Mrs. Sands paid, of
course, and gave the pearl-stringer a present of fifty dollars, "to make
up for her trouble."

It was not late, as time goes, but on this night of stress and ordeal,
nine-fifteen was a terrible hour. The instant Miss Blackburne was out of
the house, the two girls turned to each other, and clasped hands.

"Thank God, she's gone!" Beverley breathed. "Now I'll call up Justin
O'Reilly, and----"

"Wait till I tell you something I've thought of, then you can decide,"
Clo cut in. "I believe that horrible creature, Peterson, may be the
thief, not O'Reilly. How he could have got into the flat, and out again,
I can't see. But he probably specializes in stunts like that!