"Take that tray out to the dining-room," she said mechanically.
But Anderson's attention had already been drawn to the tiny incident.
"Wait--I'll look at that tray," he said briskly. Dale, her heart
in her mouth, watched him examine the knives, the plates, even
shake out the napkin to see that nothing was hidden in its folds.
At last he seemed satisfied.
"All right--take it away," he commanded. Billy nodded and vanished
toward the dining-room with tray and roll. Dale breathed again.
The sight of the tray had made Miss Cornelia's thoughts return to
practical affairs.
"Lizzie," she commanded now, "go out in the kitchen and make some
coffee. I'm sure we all need it," she sighed.
Lizzie bristled at once.
"Go out in that kitchen alone?"
"Billy's there," said Miss Cornelia wearily.
The thought of Billy seemed to bring little solace to Lizzie's heart.
"That Jap and his jooy-jitsu," she muttered viciously. "One twist
and I'd be folded up like a pretzel."
But Miss Cornelia's manner was imperative, and Lizzie slowly dragged
herself kitchenward, yawning and promising the saints repentance of
every sin she had or had not committed if she were allowed to get
there without something grabbing at her ankles in the dark corner of
the hall.
When the door had shut behind her, Anderson turned to Dale, the
corner of blue-print which he had taken from the Doctor in his hand.
"Now, Miss Ogden," he said tensely, "I have here a scrap of blue-print
which was in Dick Fleming's hand when he was killed.
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