Kitty had said nothing about it. Supposing-- “Telephone, sair,” announced the Jap. “Lady.” Molly's girl! Cutty sprinted to the telephone. “Hello! That you, Kitty?” “Yes. How is Johnny Two-Hawks?” “Back to earth.” “When can I see him? I'm just crazy to know what the story is!” “Say the third or fourth day from this. We'll have him shaved and sitting up then.” “Has he talked?” “Not permitted. Still determined to stay the run of your lease?” Cutty heard a laugh. “All right. Only I hope you will never have cause to regret this decision.” “Fiddlesticks! All I've got to do in danger is to press a button, and presto! here's Bernini.” “Kitty, did Hawksley pay you for that meal?” “Good heavens, no! What makes you ask that?” “In his delirium he spoke of having paid you. I didn't know.” Cutty's heart began to rap against his ribs. Supposing, after all, Karlov hadn't the stones? Supposing Hawksley had hidden them somewhere in Kitty's kitchen? “Anything about Gregor?” “No. Remember, you're to call me up twice a day and report the news. Don't go out nights if you can avoid it.” “I'll be good,” Kitty agreed. “And now I must hie me to the job. Imagine, Cutty!--writing personalities about stage folks and gabfesting with Burlingame and all the while my brain boiling with this affair! The city room will kill me, Cutty, if it ever finds out that I held back such a yarn. But it wouldn't be fair to Johnny Two-Hawks. Cutty, did you know that your wonderful drums of jeopardy are here in New York?” “What?” barked Cutty. “Somebody is offering to buy them. There was an advertisement in the paper this morning. Cutty?” “Yes.” “The first problem in arithmetic is two and two make four. By-by!” Dizzily Cutty hung up the receiver. He had not reckoned on the possibility of Kitty seeing that damfool advertisement. Two and two made four; and four and four made eight; so on indefinitely. That is to say, Kitty already had a glimmer of the startling truth. The initial misstep on his part had been made upon her pronouncement of the name Stefani Gregor. He hadn't been able to control his surprise. And yesterday, having frankly admitted that he knew Gregor, all that was needed to complete the circle was that advertisement. Cutty tore his hair, literally. The very door he hoped she might overlook he had thrown open to her. Thaddeus of Warsaw. But it should not be. He would continue to offer a haven to that chap; but no nonsense. None of that sinister and unfortunate blood should meddle with Kitty Conover's happiness. Her self-appointed guardian would attend to that.