But I had not the smallest impulse to put her there; quite on the contrary. In fact, I imagined, at that moment, that I heard somebody trying to listen at the door; and, thinking it was old “Iron Age,” I felt myself going definitely to her side. Nobody was going to shut this girl up in prison for ten years. I was going to do something about her; but not that. I had no idea of shifting responsibility. Not at all; I was going to see to this business myself. I got up and opened the door, while she watched me. Nobody was there and I sat down again. “I’ve called on you by orders, I think you ought to know,” I told her. “Government orders?” she said. “That’s it.” She feigned a shudder, prettily. “My soul!” she said. “What I’ve told you! Now you’ll arrest us all, I suppose!” I laughed, for I felt mighty good. There was no denying it; I felt as happy as ever I had in my life; happier on some counts; on others, of course, there was my knowledge of her character and the chances she was running. But the chances only made it more exciting for me to like her. Obviously, I’d let her see she’d hooked me; she could feel me on the line. Yet she hadn’t me in the net--not quite. “I’d gladly arrest George,” I said. “And lock him up for life.” “Why?” “Because you care about him.” “Oh, do I?” And then, for no more reason than that--but you’d have understood it, had you heard her voice--I felt better yet. I switched the subject back to business. “I’ve accumulated some hand baggage,” I mentioned. “Yes. Don’t you want it?” “That part’s all right,” I said. “But what to do with it? It’s not a gift, I take it.” “No.” “I see. You expect a search. Meanwhile I’m to have the bag and then give it back to you.” She nodded; and there she proved she knew I was not in the net; for instead of asking anything final, one way or the other, she merely suggested, “Think it over a while, won’t you?” I promised and got up; for she’d put in that a hint of dismissal. Then I remembered Dibley. After being in her compartment all this time, I had to bring to him something more tellable than our talk so far. “George is in on this game with you?” I asked. “Why do you want to know?” “I want to,” I said; and she told me, “No; we’re just going on together.” “He has a lay of his own, then?” She avoided direct answer to that. “Well, he’s still a young man,” she said. “He hasn’t retired; so naturally you’d suppose so, wouldn’t you?” “All right. Now as well as I can guess, old “Iron Age”--you know who I mean?” She nodded. I went on. “He’s aboard because George is. He knows him; but he doesn’t know you. I’m here to find out about you. What shall I tell him?” “That we’re getting off at Cleveland, please.” “What?” I said. “Are you?” “Yes.” “And you want me to tell him that?” “If you’ll be so good.” I waited with my hand on the knob. “I’ll see you again.”