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Though he knew that Alcatrante would cling to him, Orme could think of nothing better to do than to go straight to the office and count on the assistance of Bixby, who would certainly remember him. Accordingly he called out "Eight!" and, ignoring Alcatrante, left the elevator and walked down the hall, the South American at his elbow.
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 attitude, he felt doubtful. Perhaps she did not agree with the South American that murder was sometimes necessary in the service of one's country.
Before Alcatrante could stop him, little Poritol, with some vague hope of making amends, had snatched up the torn envelope and taken it to her. He returned to the range of Orme's vision with an air of virtuous importance. "The contents," said the girl "where are the papers?" Alcatrante and the Japanese looked at each other.
In the long corridor Orme gave no further attention to Alcatrante, who was pattering along beside him. The course he now had in mind was to hire a cab and ride out of the city all the way to Arradale, if possible. The distance could not be much greater than fifteen miles. If Alcatrante chose to pursue, well and good. There would be ways of disposing of him.
He must have been well paid, that burglar. But then," she mused, "they could afford it yes, they could well afford it. "When I got to the street, Poritol was just disappearing in my car! I can only think that he had lost his head very completely, for he didn't need to take the car. He could have mixed with the street-crowd and gone afoot to the hotel where " "Alcatrante?" "Yes, Mr.
Alcatrante is with me." She nodded. "I have the papers," he added, and his heart thumped happily when he saw joy and gratitude flash into her eyes. From his position and manner he might have been explaining to her what was happening in his own car. But now, conscious of the necessity of taking part in the discussion about him, he reluctantly turned away from the girl.
Orme smiled reminiscently, thinking of the snore. "Tell me," he said, "was it Senhor Alcatrante who had you sent?" "I believe that was his name." He was slowly regaining his sleep-benumbed wits. "That reminds me," he continued. "He gave me a note for you." An envelope was produced from an inside pocket. Orme took it and tore it open.
He decided not to settle the question at this moment. "This seems to be rather a mixed-up affair, Senhor Alcatrante," he said. "There is much more in it than appears. Call on me to-morrow morning, and you shall have my decision." Alcatrante and Poritol looked at each other. The minister spoke: "Will you engage not to give the bill to anyone else in the interval?" "I will promise that," said Orme.
He saw Poritol, with outstretched, questioning hands, his eyes fixed on the face of Alcatrante, who seemed to be delivering orders. The flashing reflections of light from the minister's spectacles indicated his authoritative nods of the head. After a time Alcatrante evidently completed his instructions. He removed his hat and bowed formally.
"I have never doubted you," she said, simply. There was silence. Only their breathing and the ticking of Orme's watch broke the stillness. "I don't believe that Alcatrante knew that this place was unventilated," she remarked at last. "No; and he didn't know that you were here." "He thinks that you will be released in the morning, and that you will think it wiser to make no charges.
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