The Cab of the Sleeping Horse Part 3

"Delete the word 'yet,' Mr. Harleston, and subst.i.tute the idea that it was--pardon me--rather gratuitous in you to meddle in the first place."

"I don't understand," said Harleston.

"Oh, yes you do!" she trilled. "However, I'll be specific--it's time to be specific, you would say; though I might respond that you've known all along what my business is with you."

"The name of an individual is a prerequisite to the transaction of business," he interposed.

"You do not know me, Mr. Harleston."

"Hence, your name?"

"When we meet, you'll know me by my voice."

"True, mademoiselle, for it's one in a million; but as yet we are not met, and you desire to talk business."

"And I'm going to talk business!" she laughed. "And I shall not give you my name--or, if you must, know me as Madame X. Are you satisfied?"

"If you are willing to be known as Madame X," he laughed back, "I haven't a word to say. Pray begin."

"Being a.s.sured now that you have never before heard my voice, and that you have it fixed sufficiently in your memory--all of which, Mr.

Harleston, wasn't in the least necessary, for we shall meet today--we will proceed. Ready?"

"Ready, mademoiselle--I mean Madame X."

"What do you intend to do, sir, in regard to the incident of the deserted cab with the sleeping horse?" she asked.

"I have not determined. It depends on developments."

"You see, Mr. Harleston, you were not in the least surprised at my question."

"For a moment, a mere man may have had a clever woman's intuition," he replied.

And, I suppose, the woman will be expected to aid developments."

"Isn't that her present intention?"

"Not at all! Her present intention is to avoid developments so far as you are concerned, and to have matters take their intended course. It's to that end that I have ventured to call you."

"What do you wish me to do, Madame X?"

"As if you did not know!" she mocked.

"I'm very dense at times," he a.s.sured her.

"Dense!" she laughed. "Shades of Talleyrand, hear the man! However, as you desire to be told, I'll tell you. I wish you to forget that you saw anything unusual on your way home this morning, and to return the articles you took from the cab."

"To the cab?" Harleston inquired.

"No, to me."

"What were the articles?"

"A sealed envelope containing a message in cipher."

"Haven't you forgotten something?"

"Oh, you may keep the roses, Mr. Harleston, for your reward!" she laughed.

She had not missed the handkerchief, or else she thought it of no consequence.

"a.s.suming, for the moment, that I have the articles in question, how are they to be gotten to you?"

"By the messenger, I shall send."

"Will you send yourself?"

"What is that to you, sir?" she trilled.

"Simply that I shall not even consider surrendering the articles, a.s.suming that I have them, to any one but you."

"You will surrender them to _me_?" she whispered.

"I won't surrender them to any one else."

"In other words, I have a chance to get them. No one else has a chance?"

"Precisely."

"Very well, I accept. Make the appointment, Mr. Harleston."

"Will five o'clock this afternoon be convenient?"

"Perfectly--if it can't be sooner," she replied, after a momentary pause. "And the place?"

"Where you will," he answered. He wanted her to fix it so that he could judge of her good faith.

And she understood.

"I'm not arranging to have you throttled!" she laughed. "Let us say the corridor of the Chateau--that is safe enough, isn't it?"

"Don't you know, Madame X, that Peac.o.c.k Alley is one of the most dangerous places in town?"

"Not for you, Mr. Harleston," she replied. "However--"

"Oh, I'll chance it; though it's a perilous setting with one of your adorable voice--and the other things that simply must go with it."

"And lest the other things should not go with it," she added, "I'll wear three American Beauties on a black gown so that you may know me."

"Good! Peac.o.c.k Alley at five," he replied and snapped up the receiver.