ured.
"Now I need someone's help. I need it horribly. It ought to be a man's
help. And, except Mr. Sands, you're the only man I know."

She heard O'Reilly laughing. He wouldn't laugh if he could see what her
eyes saw!

"So you want to call a truce?" he asked.

"Yes, if I could trust you."

"I like that! I wasn't the betrayer. But never mind. Your second
thoughts are best. And anyhow, you weren't working for yourself. Do you
really want my help?"

"Don't I? But it would be for--for----You know whom I mean. And you're
her enemy, aren't you?"

"Not the least in the world. But I can't buy her pearls, and I'm sure
Heron will refuse to bargain if----"

"The pearls aren't for sale any more. They've been stolen. She thinks
you took them for a hold-up."

"The devil she does! But you know better. Tell me what you wish me to do
for you, and I'll do it; I wanted to see you again. You were like a bad
but interesting dream, broken off in the midst, that I longed to dream
over again."

"I _feel_ as if I had been broken off in the midst!" said Clo. "I may be
broken past mending if somebody doesn't pick up the pieces good and
quick! What I want you to do is to meet me outside the Westmorland. Will
you? And if so, how soon?"

"I will," came the answer. "I'll be there in eight minutes, with a taxi.
Does that suit you?"

"Yes. Have the taxi drawn up in front of the hotel, and as it slows
down, I'll jump in. Give the chauffeur an order--before he starts--not
to stop, you know, but to go on the instant I'm in. A lot may depend on
that."

"What mischief have you been up to?" asked the laughing voice, which to
Clo, in the room of death, seemed to come from another world.

She shuddered as her eyes turned to the figure in the chair.

"Good-bye!" she said, and hung up the receiver without another word.

Eight minutes! It would take her about three to get out of the room,
down the stairs, and to the front door--if all went well. What was she
to do with the other five? Now that her mission was ended, she could not
stay where she was. She had reached, and almost passed, the limit of her
endurance. One idle moment in that place would surely drive her mad! Yet
she could not stand in the street, waiting for O'Reilly to come to the
rescue. Kit and the man who had talked to Kit might be ready to pounce
upon her there.

XXIII

"WHAT'S DONE CAN'T BE UNDONE"

"Don't be frightened, Mums! It's only me, back earlier than I exp