A very real danger for Nora and himself lay there. It created, too, a tie that the inspector visualized with an increasing friendliness and confidence.
"If Slim and George go to the chair," the big man said on one of those mornings when Garth had stumbled into Nora in the office, "you two are probably safe enough. With those birds salted away the weaker brothers aren't likely to take any wild chances, at least until the thing has been pretty well forgotten."
Apprehension clouded his sleepy eyes.
"But, young people, if Slim and George escaped conviction or managed a getaway, I'd look for a new first-class detective, and—"
He took Nora's hand and studied her face, whose dark beauty remained unafraid.
"I guess I'd need another daughter, which I couldn't very well have."
He laughed brusquely.
"Slim and George are tight enough now, so why borrow trouble."
Garth saw the foreboding of his chief's eyes turn to curiosity, a trifle groping.
"Wish you'd kept out of it, daughter."
"Don't scold," she laughed. "You did enough of that the other night."
"I'm not," he grumbled, "I'm only wondering where you got the nerve, and the brains."
"Some from you, father."
"Not as much as all that. I guess your mother
