LITMIR.BIZ

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I'll simply say: 'Mr. Madden, the pearls will be here at eight o'clock.' At that hour, if nothing has happened, we'll hand them over and go. On our way home we'll put our story before the sheriff, and if he laughs at us, we've at least done our duty." Eden sighed with relief. He stood up. "Thank heaven, that's settled."

      Gloomily Chan picked up the pearls. "Not happy position for me," he said, "that I must come to this mainland and be sunk in bafflement." His face brightened. "But another day. Much may happen."

      Eden patted his broad back. "Lord knows I wish you luck," he said. "Good night."

      When Eden awakened to consciousness the following morning, the sun was gleaming on the tracks outside his window. He took the train for Eldorado and dropped in at Holley's office.

      "Hello," said the editor. "Back at last, eh? Your little pal is keener on the job than you are. He went through here early this morning."

      "Oh, Chan's ambitious," Eden replied. "You saw him, did you?"

      "Yes." Holley nodded toward a suitcase in the corner. "He left his regular clothes with me. Expects to put 'em on in a day or two, I gather."

      "Probably going to wear them to jail," replied Eden glumly. "I suppose he told you about Bliss."

      "He did. And I'm afraid it means trouble."

      "I'm sure it does. As you probably know, we dug up very little down the valley."

      Holley nodded. "Yes—and what you did dig up was mostly in support of my blackmail theory. Something has happened here, too, that goes to confirm my suspicions."

      "What's that?"

      "Madden's New York office has arranged to send him another fifty thousand, through the bank here. I was just talking to the president. He doesn't think he can produce all that in cash before tomorrow, and Madden has agreed to wait."

      Eden considered. "No doubt your theory's the right one. The old boy's being blackmailed. Though Chan has made a rather good suggestion—he thinks Madden may be getting this money together—"

      "I know—he told me. But that doesn't explain Shaky Phil and the professor. No, I prefer my version. Though I must admit it's the most appalling puzzle—"

      "I'll say it is," Eden replied. "And to my mind we've done all that's humanly possible to solve it. I'm handing over the pearls tonight. I presume Chan told you that?"

      Holley nodded. "Yes—you're breaking his heart. But from your view-point, you're absolutely right. There's a limit to everything, and you seem to have reached it. However, I'm praying something happens before tonight."

      "So am I," said Eden. "If it doesn't, I don't see how I can bring myself to—but doggone it! There's Madame Jordan. It's nothing to her that Madden's killed a man."

      "It's been a difficult position for you, my boy," Holley replied. "You've handled it well. I'll pray my hardest—and I did hear once of a newspaper man whose prayers were answered. But that was years ago."

      Eden stood up. "I must get back to the ranch. Seen Paula Wendell today?"

      "Saw her at breakfast down at the Oasis. She was on the point of starting for the Petticoat Mine." Holley smiled. "But don't worry—I'll take you out to Madden's."

      "No, you won't. I'll hire a car—"

      "Forget it. Paper's off the press now, and I'm at an even looser end than usual. Come along."

      Once more Horace Greeley carried them up the rough road between the hills. As they rattled down to the blazing floor of the desert, the editor yawned.

      "I didn't sleep much last night," he explained.

      "Thinking about Jerry Delaney?" asked the boy.

      Holley shook his head. "No—something has happened—something that concerns me alone. That interview with Madden has inspired my old friend in New York to offer me a job there—a mighty good job. Yesterday afternoon I had a doctor in Eldorado look me over and he told me I could go."

      "That's great!" Eden cried. "I'm mighty happy for your sake."

      An odd look had come into Holley's eyes. "Yes," he said, "the prison door swings open, after all these years. I've dreamed of this moment, longed for it—and now—"

      "What?"

      "The prisoner hesitates. He's frightened at the thought of leaving his nice quiet cell. New York! Not the old New York I knew. Could I tackle it again, and win? I wonder."

      "Nonsense," Eden answered. "Of course you could."

      A determined look passed over Holley's face. "I'll try it," he said. "I'll go. Why the devil should I throw my life away out here? Yes—I'll tackle Park Row again."

      He left Eden at the ranch. The boy went at once to his room, and as soon as he had freshened up a bit, stepped into the patio. Ah Kim passed.

      "Anything new?" whispered Eden.

      "Thorn and Gamble away all day in big car," the Chinese replied. "Nothing more." It was obvious he was still sunk in bafflement.

      In the living-room Eden found the millionaire sitting aimless and lonely. Madden perked up at the boy's arrival. "Back safe, eh?" he said. "Did you find Draycott? You can speak out. We're alone here."

      Eden dropped into a chair. "It's all set, sir. I'll give you the Phillimore pearls at eight o'clock tonight."

      "Where?"

      "Here at the ranch."

      Madden frowned. "I'd rather it had been at Eldorado. You mean Draycott's coming here—"

      "No, I don't. I'll have the pearls at eight o'clock, and I'll give them to you. If you want the transaction kept private, that can be arranged."

      "Good." Madden looked at him. "Maybe you've got them now?" he suggested.

      "No. But I'll have them at eight."

      "Well, I'm certainly glad to hear it," Madden replied. "But I want to tell you right here that if you're stalling again—"

      "What do you mean—stalling?"

      "You heard me. Do you think I'm a fool. Ever since you came you've been stalling about that necklace. Haven't you?"

      Eden hesitated. The moment had come for a bit of frankness, it seemed. "I have," he admitted.

      "Why?"

      "Because, Mr. Madden, I thought there was something wrong here."

      "Why did you think that?"

      "Before I tell you—what made you change your mind in the first place? In San Francisco you wanted the necklace delivered in New York. Why did you switch to Southern California?"

      "A simple reason," Madden replied. "I thought up there that my daughter was going east with me. Her plans are altered—she's going at once to Pasadena for the balance of the season. And I propose to put the necklace in safety deposit there for her use when she wants it."

      "I met your daughter in San Francisco," Eden said. "She's a very charming girl."

      Madden looked at him keenly. "You think so, do you?"

      "I do. I presume she is still in Denver?"

      For a moment Madden was silent, regarding him. "No," he admitted finally, "she is not in Denver now."

      "Indeed. If you don't mind telling me—"

      "She is in Los Angeles, visiting friends."

      At this surprising information, Eden's eyes opened wide.

      "How long has she been there?" he inquired.

      "Since last Tuesday," Madden answered. "I think it was Tuesday—I got a wire saying she was coming here. I didn't want her here, for certain reasons, so I sent Thorn in to meet her, with instructions to take her back to Barstow and put her on the Los Angeles train."

      Eden thought

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