“Go on,” she said sharply.

“Very well.  I got an answer, which I opened.  I’ll show it to you, but won’t give it up.”

“You opened it!” she exclaimed.  “Do you mean to keep a letter that was sent to me?”

“I don’t think it was sent to you; that’s important.”

Carmen smiled defiantly and Foster admired her pluck, since it was obvious that he had found out the trick.  Still he thought she did not know how important the letter really was.

“Then you can quit fencing and get down to business,” she said, and Foster saw that the surface polish she generally wore was thin.  The character it concealed was fierce and somewhat primitive.  He had suspected that Carmen would not be restrained by conventions if she let herself go.

“If you’ll be patient, I’ll try to make things plain.”

He began by hastily recounting what had happened at the factory the night Fred Hulton was killed.  Carmen was obviously puzzled, which was a relief to him, but he saw comprehension in her look as he went on to relate how he had been watched by the police, and his interview with Graham and subsequent adventures.  By degrees, her understanding changed to horror, and when he stopped he saw that she had got a cruel shock.  Her face was white, her gaze was fixed, and, her eyes were unusually wide open.  Still he thought it was through her pride she suffered most.  Then she braced herself and looked at him scornfully.

“You surely lost your nerve and got imagining things when you were hiding in the bogs.  It’s a quite impossible story!”

“It sounds like that, but I have some proof; money for Daly and another man, which I suppose you were to send on.  It’s evidently their share of the plunder.”

He took out his wallet and held up the checks, keeping, however, a firm grip on them, because he knew that if Carmen meant to fight for her lover she would not be scrupulous.

“Daly wasn’t near the factory the night Fred Hulton was killed.  I know where he was,” she said in a strained but defiant voice.

“All the better for him,” Foster rejoined.  “It’s pretty clear that he had a share in the thing.”

Carmen suddenly leaned back and turned her head.  She had given in sooner than Foster expected, but the evidence was overwhelming.  He did not look at her for some moments and felt ashamed of the cruelty he had had to use, but there was no avoiding this when a number of people’s happiness was at stake.  After all, he thought it was rather her ambition than her affection that had been engaged.  Then rousing herself with an effort she turned to him.

“Well,” she said, “it looks as if I’d had an escape!”

Foster felt comforted, but did not answer, and she resumed:  “You haven’t told me this for nothing.  What do you want?”

“I want to know where Daly is.  I’ve no doubt he called here on his way west and you have his address.”