Again he drew deep breath; then he struck his hands together. “I’ll cure her, Steve, by the only way. I’ll show her Keeban! But we’ve got to be careful--awfully, awfully careful, don’t you see? I’ve got to catch him, not scare him away. Suppose he goes off forever; suppose he’s drowned, body lost; suppose he’s burnt; suppose a dozen wrong things, Steve, and I can never show him. Then I’ve got to be Keeban forever; nobody but you will ever believe! Will they?” “Nobody,” I agreed. “Come, then; to-morrow’s our chance. No word to the ‘bulls’ or he’ll hear it and not show up. We have to handle this ourselves and close. Who was with him? Christina?” “That’s what he called her.” “She talked for him?” “Come to think of it, Jerry, she did, mostly.” “That’s why he had her; my voice gives him most trouble. Sometimes he gets it perfectly; then he goes off into things I’d never say. He knows it but doesn’t know what to say. He’s so near perfect for me that he fooled you, you see; no wonder he fooled Dot.” “No.” “What did he ask of you?” “Money.” “How much?” “He left that to me but suggested--Christina did--ten thousand dollars.” “Um,” said Jerry and set to thinking. I did some myself. “What did he want with ten thousand dollars if he has Dorothy’s diamonds?” I demanded. Jerry gazed at me and smiled; I could see the glisten of his teeth. “Don’t you and the pater keep going down to business, Steve? Pater could buy ten strings like Dot’s, if he’d a mind to, of course; but I never saw him refuse a chance to pick up a few thousand more. What’re you going to do, Steve?” “That’s what I was down here for, thinking it out.” “Get the money, Steve. Draw it yourself from the bank. He’ll have you watched so he’ll know whether you have. Then have it; and tell nobody else but go to meet him.” “Alone?” “I’ll be there. Now, don’t you see?” “Yes,” I said. “Then you’ll do it?” “Yes.” “Great! Your hand on it, Steve!” I gave it and he grabbed me. “Now I’ve got to go. Hamlet’s father’s ghost has nothing whatever on me! For a certain term, I can walk the night; then, ‘fare thee well!’ One minute; suppose you meet my friend before I do, don’t forget; don’t bother him with the battles of the War of 1812 or San Juan Hill or test him on Hamlet. Just try to interest him, till I arrive.” He stepped from me. “Don’t follow,” he asked, and I let him go; and once more, when he was gone, I wondered what I knew. Two of them there were, he said; but I had not yet seen two. Why could not both be Jerry--clever, quick-seeing Jerry? Suppose he had known, after he’d met me in the room beside the river, that I was bound to doubt and waver; and so he’d come with this scheme, this clever scheme, to lead me on and make me give my word. Anyway, here I was with my word given and my hand on it. IV I SIT IN ON FATE.