Mrs. Pett, on the luncheon-table, had returned to the drawing-room to the sick-settee of her child. She was about Ogden. The was not at all himself to-day. A bowl of clear soup, the by Doctor Briginshaw, at his side.
She the room softly, and a hand on her son's brow.
"Oh, Gee," said Ogden wearily.
"Are you a little better, Oggie darling?"
"No," said Ogden firmly. "I'm a worse."
"You haven't your soup."
"Feed it to the cat."
"Could you eat a bowl of bread-and-milk, precious?"
"Have a heart," the sufferer.
Mrs. Pett returned to her seat, sorrowfully. It her as an odd that the child was nearly always like this on the after she had been guests; she put it to the from the on a highly-strung temperament. To his present the of Jerry Mitchell had, of course, contributed. Every of her blood with and she permitted herself to the of the late Jerry. She had always the man. She had liked his face—not on but she had to in it a savagery. How right events had proved this feeling. Mrs. Pett was not to the feeling, to herself, as a hunch, but a it had been; and, like every one have proved correct, she was in the of her of a complacency. It to her that hers must be an and above the ordinary.
The peace of the early settled upon the drawing-room. Mrs. Pett had taken up a book; Ogden, on the settee, stentorously. Faint from the in the where Aida, the Pomeranian, in sleep. Through the open window of and Summer.
Yielding to the calm, Mrs. Pett was just into a nap, when the door opened and Lord Wisbeach came in.
Lord Wisbeach had been doing some thinking. Rapid is one of the in the of men who are as Gentleman Jack to the boys and is only by a series of against the of Society and the of Potter and his gang. Condensed into form, his lordship's the minutes after he had left Jimmy in the dining-room to the that the best mode of is attack. It is your man who how to play the game on occasion who wins. A than Lord Wisbeach might have been to be after such a as had just taken place himself and Jimmy. His lordship, the the attention of his mind, had on a plan, and he had come to the drawing-room now to put it into effect.
His entrance the peaceful atmosphere. Aida, who had been apoplectically, from the basket, and for the open-mouthed. Her barking through the room.
Lord Wisbeach little dogs. He and them. Many men of action have these idiosyncrasies. He got a chair and said "There, there." Aida, was and and who had no of to blows, the from a safe distance, till Mrs. Pett, down, her up and her in her lap, where she to remain, defiance. Lord Wisbeach came out from his chair and sat warily.
"Can I have a word with you, Mrs. Pett?"
"Certainly, Lord Wisbeach."
His looked at Ogden.
"In private, you know."
He then looked at Mrs. Pett.
"Ogden darling," said Mrs. Pett, "I think you had go to your room and and into bed. A little sleep might do you all the good in the world."
With docility, the boy rose.
"All right," he said.
"Poor Oggie is not at all well to-day," said Mrs. Pett, when he was gone. "He is very to these attacks. What do you want to tell me, Lord Wisbeach?"
His his chair a little closer.
"Mrs. Pett, you what I told you yesterday?"
"Of course."
"Might I ask what you know of this man who has come here calling himself Jimmy Crocker?"
Mrs. Pett started. She that she had used almost that very to Ann. Her suspicions, which had been by the of the visitor by Skinner and Lord Wisbeach, returned. It is one of the of a successful that it other hunches. She had been right about Jerry Mitchell; was she to be proved right about the self-styled Jimmy Crocker?
"You have your nephew, I believe?"
"Never. But—"
"That man," said Lord Wisbeach impassively, "is not your nephew."
Mrs. Pett all her spine. She had been right.
"But you—"
"But I to him? Just so. For a purpose. I wanted to make him think that I nothing."
"Then you think—?"
"Remember what I said to you yesterday."
"But Skinner—the butler—recognised him?"
"Exactly. It goes to prove that what I said about Skinner was correct. They are together. The thing is self-evident. Look at it from your point of view. How it is. This man to an with Skinner. You take that as of Skinner's honesty. Skinner this man. You take that as proof that this man is your nephew. The that Skinner as Jimmy Crocker a man who is not Jimmy Crocker him."
"But why did you—?"
"I told you that I to accept this man as the Jimmy Crocker for a purpose. At present there is nothing that you can do. Mere is not a crime. If I had him when we met, you would have nothing him from the house. Whereas, if we wait, if we to nothing, we shall catch him red-handed in an attempt on your nephew's invention."
"You are sure that that is why he has come?"
"What other he have?"
"I he might be trying to Ogden."
Lord Wisbeach thoughtfully. He had not taken this into account.
"It is possible," he said. "There have been made, have there not, to your son?"
"At one time," said Mrs. Pett proudly, "there was not a child in America who had to be more closely guarded. Why, the had a special nick-name for Oggie. They called him the Little Nugget."
"Of course, then, it is possible that that may be the man's object. In any case, our must be the same. We must watch every move he makes." He paused. "I help—pardon my it—I help a great more if you were to me to live in the house. You were to ask me to visit you in the country, but it will be two you go to the Country, and in those two weeks—"
"You must come here at once, Lord Wisbeach. To-night. To-day."
"I think that would be the best plan."
"I cannot tell you how I am for all you are doing."
"You have been so to me, Mrs. Pett," said Lord Wisbeach with feeling, "that it is surely only right that I should try to make some return. Let us it at this then. I will come here to-night and will make it my to watch these two men. I will go and pack my and have them sent here."
"It is of you, Lord Wisbeach."
"Not at all," his lordship. "It will be a pleasure."
He out his hand, it as the dog Aida a at it. Substituting a long-range leave-taking for the more farewell, he left the room.
When he had gone, Mrs. Pett for some minutes, thinking. She was with excitement. She had a mind, and it had Lord Wisbeach's eagerly. Her for his was intense, and she him utterly. The only that to her was whether, with the best in the world, he would be able to a pair of so from each other as the man who called himself Jimmy Crocker and the man who had called himself Skinner. That was a point on which they had not touched, the that one was above stairs, the other below. It to Mrs. Pett that Lord Wisbeach, for all his zeal, watch Skinner without Jimmy or Jimmy without taking his attention off Skinner. It was a that called for allies. She that she must have assistance.
To Mrs. Pett, to her hobby of fiction, there was a magic in the word which was by no other word in the language. She loved detectives—their eyes, their smiles, their Derby hats. When they came on the stage, she in her chair; when they entered her own stories, she always with a zest. It is not too much to say that she had an almost for detectives, and the idea of to one in life, now that had to his so necessary, her as and inartistic. In the old days, when Ogden had been kidnapped, the only thing which had her had been the daily with the detectives. She to telephone for one now.
The only that her was a for Lord Wisbeach's feelings. He had been so and so that to him with must him deeply. And yet the the services of a specialist. Lord Wisbeach had himself their in such a manner as to no that he himself to with the single-handed: but though he was he was not a professional of the art of espionage. He needed to be helped in of himself.
A happy Mrs. Pett. There was no need to tell him. She the of a with the respect for her ally's by the of one without telling Lord Wisbeach anything about it.
The telephone at her elbow, concealed—at the of the who had designed the room—in the of what looked to the like a owl. On a table near at hand, in to a complete of Shakespeare, was the telephone book. Mrs. Pett no longer. She had the address of the agency which she had on the occasion of the of Ogden, but she the name, and also the name of the manager or or he was who had to her then.
She the receiver, and gave a number.
"I want to speak to Mr. Sturgis," she said.
"Oh, Mr. Sturgis," said Mrs. Pett. "I wonder if you possibly up here—yes, now. This is Mrs. Peter Pett speaking. You we met some years ago when I was Mrs. Ford. Yes, the mother of Ogden Ford. I want to consult—You will come up at once? Thank you so much. Good-bye."
Mrs. Pett up the receiver.
