em? Did he give them to you?"

"I don't know whether he had them or not. Nothing matters now, except to
get home," was the astounding answer. Clo could hardly believe that she
had heard aright. Ten--five minutes ago, nothing in the world mattered,
except the papers and the pearls. Now they had lost all their
importance!

"You don't want them any more?" she gasped.

"Want them?" Beverley echoed. "Yes, more than ever, I want them. But
it's too late. Don't ask me why. Only--come!"

Clo could not argue with Angel, or oppose her, in such a mood as this.
She wished that she had taken her own way, and gone herself to "have it
out" with Peterson. She felt that nothing he could have said or done
would have forced her to give up without at least knowing whether or not
the booty were in his possession. As she kept pace with Beverley she was
screwing up her courage to one last, desperate coup. She would make it
in spite of Angel!

They came to the elevator, but before Clo could put out her hand to
touch the electric button, Beverley drew her farther on, to the
staircase. They went down swiftly and in silence. The entrance hall of
the hotel smelt of tobacco. They descended into it behind the elevator.
A group of men surrounded the desk where they had inquired for Peterson,
and the two girls in motor coats and veiled toques passed without
catching sight of the clerk who had sent them to 658. Three or four men
of the commercial traveller type glanced at the gray and brown figures;
but the elevator had at that moment released a golden-haired, black-eyed
young woman in a pink evening dress. She became at once an object of
interest, and the plainly-cloaked pair vanished unnoticed.

The taxi, which had been ordered to wait, was at a distance. They
hurried to it. It was Clo who opened the door of the cab, and almost
pushed Angel in!

"Shall I tell him to go to the corner where he picked us up?" she asked.
Beverley nodded, and sank back against the shabby leather cushions. This
was Clo's moment. She had led up to it, and decided what to do. First
she placed the bag of jewels in Beverley's lap. Next she spoke to the
chauffeur, giving clear directions. Then she slammed the door shut, and
stepped back upon the sidewalk, motioning to the man to start.

"Angel will be so surprised, she won't know what to do for a minute,"
the girl thought. "By the time she pulls herself together she'll realize
it's too late to stop me."

As fast as sh