He glanced at the clock. It was a quarter after seven. Going back into the chamber which, had been the scene of both their danger and their happiness, he got his coat and the girl's hat. The parchment papers crackled in his pocket as he put the coat on. The girl, meantime, adjusted her hat.

"Say," said the clerk, holding the outer door open for them to pa.s.s through, "was that fellow's story about your holding notes of ours--was there anything in it?"

"Absolutely untrue," replied Orme.

"He must have had you confused with somebody else."

"He must have." Orme held out his hand. "Many thanks to you for saving our lives."

Then Orme and the girl made their way to the elevator.

CHAPTER XV

FROM THE DEVIL TO THE DEEP SEA

"How shall we go?" asked Orme, as they descended to the street level.

"By train. There is no other convenient way, since my car is at home."

She looked at him doubtfully, and added, "but they will be watching the railroad stations."

He nodded. "A motor would be safer--if we can get one." He gave her hand a secret pressure while the elevator-boy was opening the door for them, and as she pa.s.sed before him she flashed upon him a look so filled with love and trust that the sudden thrill of his happiness almost stifled him.

At the La Salle Street entrance Orme had a fleeting glimpse of the watching Alcatrante. The South American, after one astonished stare, darted away in the dusk. He would follow them, of course, but Orme decided to say nothing about him to the girl.

"I must telephone," she said suddenly, stopping as if to turn back into the building. "Father will be very anxious."

"The booths in the building must be closed," he said. "We'd better try a drug store."

Accordingly they made their way to the nearest, and the girl went to the booth. The door was shut for a long time.

While he was waiting, Orme glanced through the brilliant window. In the light of an electric lamp across the street he discerned faintly a motionless figure; without hesitation he crossed the pavement, recognizing Alcatrante more clearly as he left the dazzle of the store.

The minister did not budge. His face, as Orme approached, was cold and expressionless.

"Senhor," exclaimed Orme, "does your trade include murder?"

"Not at all. Why do you ask, Mr. Orme?"

"Because only a lucky intervention has saved you from the murder of a young lady and myself."

"You are exaggerating, my dear sir." Alcatrante laughed.

"Is it your custom to lock people into air-tight chambers?"

"Air-tight?" Alcatrante was clearly disconcerted. "I did not suppose that it was air-tight. Also, I did not dream that the young lady was there.

But this game is a serious game, Mr. Orme. You do not appear to understand. When one is working for his country, many strange things are justified."

"Even murder?"

"Even murder--sometimes."

Orme had an inspiration. "Thank you for the truth, Senhor," he said. "I, too, am working for my country. If you continue to follow us, I shall a.s.sume that you have murder in your mind, and I shall act accordingly."

Alcatrante smiled coolly.

"This is fair warning," continued Orme.

He glanced to the drug store and saw the girl coming out of the telephone-booth. Hastening across the street, he met her at the door.

"If father had had any idea of such complications when we came West," she said, "there would have been plenty of men near by to help us. As it is, we shall have to act alone. It is not a matter for detectives--or for the police, I--I almost wish it were," she faltered.

Orme wondered again whether this father could have realized what dangers the girl was encountering. But, as if divining his sudden anger against the man who could let his daughter run such risks, she added: "He doesn't know, of course, the details of our adventures. I have permitted him to think that it is simply a matter of searching."

"And now he is rea.s.sured."

"Yes. Oh, you have no idea yet how important it is."

"You were a long time in the booth," he said.

A mysterious smile flittered across her face. "I thought of another person I wished to talk to. That person was hard to get."

"Long distance?"

"It proved necessary to use long distance."

Then she caught a glimpse of the figure across the street. "There's Mr.

Alcatrante," she exclaimed.

"Yes, I have just had a talk with him."

Her face showed concern.

"Don't let him worry you, dear," he added. "He will try to balk us. We must expect that. But I think I can take care of him."

"I believe it," she said, softly.

He wondered whether she could guess how relentlessly he was planning to deal with Alcatrante. Would she justify the course he had in mind? As to her att.i.tude, he felt doubtful. Perhaps she did not agree with the South American that murder was sometimes necessary in the service of one's country.

Moreover, while Alcatrante was undoubtedly serving the interest of his country, Orme had no real certainty that he himself was in a similar position. He had every reason to infer that the papers were of importance to the United States Government, but after all he could only go by inference. The affairs of some private corporation in the United States might have a serious bearing on problems in South America and the Far East. He decided to sound the girl for information that would be more definite.

But first the question as to their next move must be answered.

"Do you know where we can get a motor?" he said.

"No"--she prolonged the word doubtfully. "We may have to take a motor-cab."