"Just the same," growled John, "it isn't the motive so much as the fact that counts. If you were able to make 'em choke up Mary's pearls, why can't you use the same methods to get back Edith's?"
"Oh, because," I answered, wearily, "the first was an official, what you might call syndicate, job. The second is a little private enterprise on the part of the operator. Or, at least, it looks to me like that. However, I'll do my best. You'd better go back to the house and give Miss Dalghren her pearls, and tell her for Heaven's sake to put 'em in a safe place. It's all my fault, I know. I should have cleared out, like I wanted to, and all of this wouldn't have happened."
John leaned over and dropped his hand on my knee.
"At any rate, Frank," says he, "you know that we all have perfect confidence in you, old chap."
He tried to make his voice hearty, but somehow it fell flat.
"Thanks," said I. "That's not what's worrying me just now."
"What is?" he asked.
"Oh, nothing," I answered.
"Look here, Frank," says John. "Is there any actual—er, risk to you in looking for these pearls?"
"Oh, not a bit," I answered. "It's just like picking daisies."
John looked worried. Says he, "If there's any physical danger about it just chuck the whole thing. Edith wouldn't wish it and neither do I. Tell me the truth, old man."
"I can't tell you what I don t know," I answered.
