XIn his office downtown Mr. Andrew Pennington was opening his personal mail. Suddenly his fistclenched itself and came down on his desk with a bang; his face crimsoned¹ and two big veinsstood out on his forehead. He pressed a buzzer² on his desk and a smart-looking stenographerappeared with commendable³ promptitude.

“Tell Mr. Rockford to step in here.”

“Yes, Mr. Pennington.”

A few minutes later, Sterndale Rockford, Pennington’s partner, entered the office. The two menwere not unlike—both tall, spare, with greying hair and clean-shaven, clever faces.

“What’s up, Pennington?”

Pennington looked up from the letter he was rereading. He said. “Linnet’s married….”

“What?”

“You heard what I said! Linnet Ridgeway’s married!”

“How? When? Why didn’t we hear about it?”

Pennington glanced at the calendar on his desk.

“She wasn’t married when she wrote this letter, but she’s married now. Morning of the fourth.

That’s today.”

Rockford dropped into a chair.

“Whew! No warning! Nothing? Who’s the man?”

Pennington referred again to the letter.

“Doyle. Simon Doyle.”

“What sort of a fellow is he? Ever heard of him?”

“No. She doesn’t say much…” He scanned the lines of clear, upright handwriting. “Got an ideathere’s something hole-and-corner about this business…That doesn’t matter. The whole point is,she’s married.”

The eyes of the two men met. Rockford nodded.

“This needs a bit of thinking out,” he said quietly.

“What are we going to do about it?”

“I’m asking you.”

The two men sat silent. Then Rockford asked, “Got any plan?”

Pennington said slowly: “The Normandie sails today. One of us could just make it.”

“You’re crazy! What’s the big idea?”

Pennington began: “Those British lawyers—” and stopped.

“What about ’em. Surely you’re not going over to tackle ’em? You’re mad!”

“I’m not suggesting that you—or I—should go to England.”

“What’s the big idea, then?”

Pennington smoothed out the letter on the table.

“Linnet’s going to Egypt for her honeymoon⁴. Expects to be there a month or more….”

“Egypt—eh?”

Rockford considered. Then he looked up and met the other’s glance.

“Egypt,” he said. “That’s your idea!”

“Yes—a chance meeting. Over on a trip. Linnet and her husband—honeymoon atmosphere. Itmight be done.”

Rockford said doubtfully: “She’s sharp, Linnet is…but—”

Pennington went on softly: “I think there might be ways of—managing it.”

Again their eyes met. Rockford nodded.

“All right, big boy.”

Pennington looked at the clock.

“We’ll have to hustle—whichever of us is going.”

“You go,” said Rockford promptly⁵. “You always made a hit with Linnet. ‘Uncle Andrew.’

That’s the ticket!”

Pennington’s face had hardened. He said: “I hope I can pull it off.”

“You’ve got to pull it off,” his partner said.

“The situation’s critical….”

 

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