"Oh, no, of course not. It would never do to permit his influence to appear. I was thinking that the Senator might act with the girl, this wonderful Winifred. He might frighten her, or bribe her, or something of the sort." Now, Helen Tower was not in Meiklejohn's confidence. He was compelled to trust her in the matter of the Costa Rica concession, but he was far too wise to let her into any secret where Winifred was concerned. Anxious to stab with another's hand, she thought that Mrs. Carshaw might be used to punish her wayward son. "I'm not sure--" She paused doubtfully. "I do happen to know Mr. Meiklejohn's whereabouts, but it is most important he should not be troubled." "Helen, you used to like Rex more than a little. With an effort, I can save him still." "But he may suspect you, have you watched, your movements tracked." Mrs. Carshaw laughed. "My dear, he is far too much taken up with his Winifred." "Has he found her, then?" "Does he not see her daily?" Here were cross purposes. Mrs. Tower was puzzled. "If I tell you where the Senator is, you are sure Rex will not follow you?" "Quite certain." "His address is the Marlborough-Blenheim, Atlantic City." "Helen, you're a dear! I shall go there to-morrow, if necessary. But it will be best to write him first." "Don't say I told you." "Above all things, Helen, I am discreet." "I fear he cannot do much. Your son is so wilful." "Don't you understand? Rex is quite unmanageable. I depend wholly on the girl--and Senator Meiklejohn is just the man to deal with her." They kissed farewell--alas, those Judas kisses of women! Both were satisfied, each believing she had hoodwinked the other. Mrs. Carshaw returned to her flat to await her son's arrival. If the trail at East Orange proved difficult he promised to be home for dinner. "There will be a row if Rex meets Meiklejohn," she communed. "Helen will be furious with me. What do I care? I have won back my son's love. I have not many years to live. What else have I to work for if not for his happiness?" So one woman in New York that night was fairly well _content_. There may be, as the Chinese proverb has it, thirty-six different kinds of mothers-in-law, but there is only one mother. CHAPTER XXII THE HUNT Steingall, not Clancy, presented his bulk at Carshaw's apartment next morning. He contrived to have a few minutes' private talk with Mrs. Carshaw while her son was dressing. Early as it was, he lighted a second cigar as he stepped into the automobile, for Carshaw thought it an economy to retain a car. "Surprised to see me?" he began. "Well, it's this way. We may drop in for a rough-house to-day. Between them, Voles and 'Mick the Wolf,' own three sound legs and three strong arms. I can't risk Clancy. He's too precious. He kicked like a mule, of course, but I made it an order." "What of the local police?" said Carshaw.