A dozen eager voices outside the stateroom door offered to get the coffee from the privilege car, and within a few minutes Sally was kneeling before David, holding a cup of steaming black coffee to his lips. As many of the carnival family as could crowd into the small space of the car aisle pressed against the open door of the stateroom to hear his story. Jan the Holland giant, who was too tall to stand upright in the car, was invited into the stateroom, where he sat between Pop Bybee and Mrs. Bybee, “Pitty Sing” in the crook of one of his arms, Noko, the Hawaiian midget, in the other. Sally still knelt beside David, holding his right hand tightly in both of hers and laying her lips upon it when his story moved her unbearably. “I suppose Mrs. Bybee has told you that I was leaving the show train to go to the carnival grounds to see if anything had happened to Sally. I’d have gone sooner, but the storm was so violent that I knew I’d not have a chance to get there. Mrs. Bybee said she was going to the lot and would look after Sally for me, but she wanted me to stay on the train, or near it, to patrol it. She didn’t tell me there was a lot of money in her stateroom, or I’d have stationed myself in there.” “You see,” Sally interrupted eagerly. “I told you I hadn’t said a word to him about the safe.” “Safe?” David glanced down at her, puzzled. “So this Steve crook cracked a safe to get the money, did he? I didn’t know—didn’t have time to find out.” “And I told you it was a man named Steve!” Sally reminded them joyously, raising David’s cold hand to her lips. “They thought I was making it all up, Dave, but they believed me after a while.” “I suppose Sally has told you that we saw Nita and some man walking in the moonlight that last night we were in Stanton,” David addressed Pop Bybee. “We heard her call him Steve, and say something about what she’d do to him if he double-crossed her. I should have told you then, Mr. Bybee, but I didn’t have an idea Nita was planning to rob the outfit, and anyway—” he blushed, his eyes twinkling fondly at Sally—“by morning I’d forgotten all about it. I couldn’t think of anything but—but Sally. You see we’d just told each other that night that—that—well, sir, that we loved each other and—” “Anybody else in the whole outfit could have told you that,” Bybee chuckled. “It’s all right, Dave. Carnival folks usually mind their own business and spend damn little time toting tales.” “I’m glad you’re not blaming me,” David said gratefully. “Well, sir, I was walking up and down the tracks, just wild to get away and see if anything had happened to Sally, when suddenly I heard a soft thud, like somebody jumping to the ground on the other side of the train. I crossed over as quick as I could, but by that time they were running down the side of the train pretty far ahead of me. It was Nita and a man. They must have been hidden on the train, waiting their chance, when the storm broke—were there when Mrs. Bybee left.