“Unless you care to explain clearly just how Miss Natalie’s interests are being protected.”

“Which I am not at liberty to do at present.  She is satisfied, and has practically told you so, according to Jim Hobart.  If you will not accept her word, there is no use of my saying anything about the matter.  Besides, West, frankly I don’t give a damn what you think.  We’ve got you safe enough, where you can’t do anything, even if you want to—­so, why worry?  Twenty-four hours more will finish our little job, and, until that time is up, you’ll remain right here; after that we don’t care where in hell you go, or what you do—­the game will have been played.”

The man’s tone, and air of confidence was impressive; beyond doubt he felt that the cards were all in his hands.  West drew in his breath sharply.

“Apparently you are right,” he said quietly.  “May I ask a question or two?”

“Fire away; I’ll answer as I please.”

“Who is the woman on board?”

“Mary, you mean?  Hobart’s wife.”

“She came from the place on Wray Street last night in an auto?”

“Yes; I brought her along myself.”

“Alone?”

“There were two of us, Mark and I—­why? what are you driving at?”

“Just putting some broken threads together.  Then Natalie Coolidge is not on this yacht?”

“I should say not.  What would we be doing with her out here?”

“Where is she then?”

“Oh, I begin to see what brought you aboard so easily, West.  You thought we had the lady kidnapped, and was sailing off with her.  Some stunt that.  What put the idea in your head?”

West hesitated a moment, but decided a truthful answer would do no harm.

“I knew an automobile had driven out of the alley back of Mike’s Place; and that a woman was in it.  When I got away a little later, I picked up a message—­a note which had been dropped.  It was written in a woman’s hand but unsigned—­”

“The little cat!  She dropped it?”

“It seems so.  You forgot yourself that time.  So she was with you, was she?”

“I don’t know what you mean.  I told you who were with me.  Go on; what did the note say?”

“It was only a request for the police to search the Seminole at once.”

“Oh, that’s the way the wind blows.  But you preferred to tackle the job yourself.  I am certainly obliged to you, West.”

“You have no reason to be.  I took that note to the police, and they are on the case.  They are combing the city right now for Hobart, and if they get him, this bubble of yours is likely to be pricked.”

“Hell, they won’t get him.  There isn’t a fly-cop in Chicago who could locate Jim in a week, and as for Natalie, believe me she is quite able to take care of herself.”

“But where is she?”

“At home, of course, if you must know—­’Fairlawn,’ isn’t that the name of the place?  We left her there on our way to Jackson Park.”