Joan weighed the chance distrustfully; but it was at least a chance, and this was no time to be careful. Taking a five-dollar gold-piece from her scanty store, she gave it to the boy.
"Go find him," she said. "And if he seems to know what he's doing--just hang around until he doesn't: he won't keep you waiting long. Then bring him to me. But first take this suit-case down to the Union Ferry house, check it in the baggage-room, and give me the check when you bring him back. And--don't say anything to anybody."
Supperless, she sat down to wait, Quard's revolver ready to her hand.
Twilight waned; night fell; hours passed. Motionless and imperturbable, Joan waited on, the tensity of her mood betrayed only by the burning of her baleful, dangerous eyes.
At half-past nine a noise of scuffling feet, gruff voices and heavy breathing in the hallway, following the clash of an elevator gate, brought her to her feet. Going to the bureau, she opened a drawer and put the revolver away.
Answering a knock, she threw the door wide. Two porters staggered in, one with the shoulders, one with the feet of Quard. The bell-boy followed. When they had lugged to the bed that inert and insensate thing she had once loved, Joan tipped the men and they departed. The boy lingered.
"Down on the Coast. I don't know what wouldn't've happened to him if you hadn't sent me after him. He was up an alley--had been stuck up by a couple of strong-arms. I seen 'em making their get-away just as I come in sight."
She uttered a cry of despair: "Robbed--you mean?"
"Yes, ma'm. He ain't got as much's a nickel on him."
Overwhelmed, Joan sank into a chair. The boy avoided her desolate eyes; he was a little afraid she might want part of the five dollars back.
"Hadn't I better send the hotel doctor up, ma'm?"
"Yes, ma'm. And here's the check for your suit-case. Nothing else? Good night, ma'm."
Of a sudden, Joan jumped up and ran to the bed in the alcove.
Quard's condition was pitiable, but in her excited no compassion. His face was pallid as a death-mask save on one cheek-bone, where there was an angry and livid contusion. His hands were scratched, bleeding, and filthy, his clothing begrimed and torn, his pockets turned inside out. He seemed scarcely to breathe, and a thin froth flecked his slack and swollen lips.