Behind That Curtain · Chapter 14 (2/2)

“I think he’d pull out a gun and shoot me. Yes, I’m certain he would, and he’d go on his way happy to know there was one weakling who would never trouble him again.”

“Yes, he’s a hard, determined man,” Miss Morrow admitted. “Nevertheless, he wouldn’t kill Sir Frederic. Poor Sir Frederic wasn’t interfering with his plans in any way.”

“Oh, wasn’t he? How do you know he wasn’t?”

“Well⁠—I can’t see⁠—”

“Let’s leave Beetham to Chan,” Kirk suggested. “The little man has an air about him⁠—I believe he knows what he’s doing. And now will you drop all this and dance with me⁠—or must I dance alone?”

“I don’t know. In my position, I have to give an impression of being serious⁠—the public⁠—”

“Oh, forget your public. He wouldn’t venture out on a night like this. Come along.”

Miss Morrow laughed, and they danced together on the tiny floor. For the rest of the evening she permitted Kirk to lead the conversation into more frivolous channels⁠—a task at which he excelled. The change seemed to do her good.

“Well,” said Kirk, as he signed the check, “you can be gay, after all. And I must say it becomes you.”

“I’ve forgot all my worries,” replied the girl, her eyes sparkling. “I feel as though I should never think of them again.”

“That’s the talk,” Kirk approved.

But before they got out of the room, Miss Morrow’s worries were suddenly brought back to her. Along one wall was a series of booths, beside which they walked on their way to the door. Opposite the final booth the girl half stopped, and glanced back over her shoulder at Barry Kirk. In passing he too looked into the compartment, and then hastily moved on. He need not have effaced himself so hurriedly, for the two people who were dining together in the booth were so deep in serious conversation they were oblivious to everything.

In the street Miss Morrow turned to Kirk. “What did I tell you?” she cried. “There are other women involved in this affair besides that poor little elevator girl.”

“And what did I tell you,” Kirk answered, “about your handsome British hero?”

Miss Morrow nodded. “Tomorrow,” she said, “I shall look into this. Just what, I wonder, is the connection between Colonel Beetham and Mrs. Helen Tupper-Brock?”