“C. Q.”; or, In the Wireless House
let people commit crime without being punished for it?”
“I beg your pardon, Sir Hubert,” said Micky quietly. “I believe you were asking for Mrs. Trevelyan’s necklace. Here it is—without any strings to it, either.”
Trevelyan turned a deep red.
“Hubert,” murmured Lily, “do you know whom I thought those officers were coming for? I thought they were going to arrest a woman for attempting to violate the Customs laws. She was guilty, too. But it turned out they were after a poor fellow who had committed no crime at all. Can't you do something for him, Trevelyan? Let him go! Let them start life over again somewhere else! Do it for me! I ask you! For me!”
Trevelyan gnawed his mustache and looked nervously out of the window.
“Of course,” he stammered, “I have no personal feeling in the matter. On the contrary, I am very much affected by what the young woman tells me. But the writ has been issued and the warrant will have to be served.”
“Excuse me,” contradicted Micky. “Extradition is simply a courtesy extended by one
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