God for that! She could hear everything that was said without joining in the talk and excitement.
"Listen to this!" cried Joe Chandler exultantly. "’Tain’t given out yet—not for the public, that is—but we was all given it by eight o’clock this morning. Quick work that, eh?" He read out:
"Wanted
Mrs. Bunting walked forward. She gave a long, fluttering sigh of unutterable relief.
"There’s the chap!" said Joe Chandler triumphantly. "And now, Miss Daisy"—he turned to her jokingly, but there was a funny little tremor in his frank, cheerful-sounding voice—"if you knows of any nice, likely young fellow that answers to that description—well, you’ve only got to walk in and earn your reward of five hundred pounds."
"Five hundred pounds!" cried Daisy and her father simultaneously.
"Yes. That’s what the Lord Mayor offered yesterday. Some private bloke—nothing official about it. But we of the Yard is barred from taking that reward, worse luck. And it’s too bad, for we has all the trouble, after all."
"Just hand that bit of paper over, will you?" said Bunting. "I’d like to con it over to myself."
