"It was lucky I was in New York when Louis wired us she had flown," he
continued--I omit the oaths which punctuated his phrases. "Lucky I had
my men with me, too. I didn't think I'd need them here, but I'd
promised them a trip to New York--and then comes Louis's wire. I put
them on the track. I guessed she's go to Daly's--old Duchaine was mad
about that crazy system of his, and had been writing to him.

"He used to know Daly when they were young men together at Saratoga and
Montreal, and in Quebec, in the times when they had good horses and
high-play there. I tell you it was ticklish. There was millions of
dollars worth of property walking up Broadway, and they'd got her, with
a taxi waiting near by, when that devil's fool strolls up and draws a
crowd. If I'd been there I'd have----"

A string of vile expletives followed his last remark.

"They got on his track and followed them to the Merrimac," he
continued. "And they never came out. They waited all night till nine
this morning, and they never came out. My God, I thought her a good
girl--it's awful! Who was he? Say, how much do you know?"

His face was dripping with sweat, and he shot an awful look at
Jacqueline as she bent over the suit-case. I could hardly keep my
hands off him, but Jacqueline's need was too great for me to give vent
to my passion.

I remembered now that, after sending Jacqueline to the clerk's desk
alone, she had gone to a side entrance and I had joined her there and
left the hotel with her in that fashion. At any rate, Simon's words