"You've said something!" declared Jimmy promptly. "Where? Sherry's new place?" "Anywhere you say." Mrs. Fowler rose. "Now, my dear man, I'm frightfully sorry to send you away--but I'll look forward to seeing you again. It was delightful of you to devote your Christmas evening to a poor lonely--" "To a goddess, you mean," struck in Jimmy, as he rose and took her hand in his. Their eyes met and held, and something that he read in those hazel depths brought the color to Wren's cheeks. "Good-by, and come home soon," he said unsteadily, "and don't forget our celebration. Oh, I do wish you weren't going! Won't you change your mind and stay?" "I can't." Her fingers tightened on his. "But I wish you luck and success, dear Jimmy! And it's Christmas night--" She leaned forward and kissed him, frankly--and Jimmy Wren departed with a lilt of song in his heart and a shining gladness in his eyes. Mrs. Fowler went to the telephone in her boudoir, sat down, and called a number. "I'd like to speak to Mr. Macgowan, please," she said when the response came. And, a moment later, she put her lips to the telephone. "Hello, Lawrence? Is this you?" "Why, hello! Merry Christmas to you!" came Macgowan's cheerful, incisive tones. "You don't mean that he's back already?" "Yes. He'll see you first thing in the morning." "Things are all right, then?" "Yes, absolutely. There's not a shadow of suspicion anywhere. Henry C. is the supposed nigger in the woodpile. And, Lawrence, he's pitifully easy to work on; I've got him all worked up this minute about Henry C." "Fine!" Macgowan's chuckle came over the wire. "Fine! You're getting off to-night?" "Of course." "Well, leave the rest to me," said Macgowan. "I'll have him in Tampa inside of two days, and the passports will follow as quickly as they can be rushed down there. I'll send you a check to cover all expenses. Work it any way you like, but get him out of the country, understand! A sea voyage to Spain and back will brace you up a lot--and don't go and do anything foolish, old girl." "You play your game as well as I play mine, and you'll win," said Mrs. Fowler with emphasis. "I believe you," laughed Macgowan. "Good night, then, and good-by! I'll not come to see you off; he might be hanging around. Good-by!" "Good-by." Mrs. Fowler hung up the receiver, and smiled into the mirror. CHAPTER II Armstrong should have reached New York at nine o'clock on the Wednesday following Christmas, but his train was forty minutes late. Dorothy had remained in Evansville, to come East in a few days with her parents. At precisely ten o'clock, Armstrong entered his own office. He sat down at his desk, shoved aside the waiting pile of mail, drew up the telephone and asked for Jimmy Wren. To his astonishment, he was informed that Wren was out of the city. "Send Mr. Evarts here," he said curtly.