Bater has been dead over two years--let me see--yes, two
years yesterday--one can--!'
"'Stay! that will do,' she whispered; 'come to my house and I will
give you the thousand dollars. You must pretend you are my cousin.'
"'I will pretend anything, Mrs. Bater,' I murmured, helping her into a
taxi, 'anything so long as I can be with you.'"
"You got the money?" Hamar queried.
"Yes," Kelson said with a smile, "I got the money--in fact, everything
I asked for."
There was silence for some minutes, and then Hamar said, "What next?"
"What next!" Kelson said, "why I thought I had done a very good day's
work and was on my way back here to take a much needed rest, when I'm
dashed if the Unknown hadn't another adventure in store for me. Coming
out of a garden in Gough Street, within sight of Goad's house, was a
lady, young and very plain, but rigged out in one of those latest
fashion costumes--a very tight, short skirt, and huge hat with high
plume in it. By the bye, I can't think why this costume, which is so
admirably suited to pretty girls--because it attracts attention to
them--should be almost exclusively adopted by the ugly ones. But to
continue. I knew immediately that she was Ella Barlow, the
much-pampered and only daughter of J.B. Barlow, the vinegar magnate;
that she was in love, or imagined herself in love with Herbert Delmas,
the manager of the Columbian Bank--a young, good-looking fellow, whom
she had been trying to set against his fiancee, Dora Roberts.
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