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diff --git a/29331-h/29331-h.htm b/29331-h/29331-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5fb1627 --- /dev/null +++ b/29331-h/29331-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,11426 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Crevice, by William John Burns and Isabel Ostrander</title> +<style type="text/css"> + p {margin-top: 0.5em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: 0.5em;} + body {margin-left: 11%; margin-right: 10%;} + a {text-decoration: none;} + @media screen { + hr.pb {margin:30px 0; width:100%; border:none;border-top:thin dashed silver;} + .pagenum {display: inline; font-size: x-small; text-align: right; position: absolute; right: 2%; padding: 1px 3px; font-style: normal; font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration: none; background-color: inherit; border:1px solid #eee;} + .pncolor {color: silver;} + } + @media print { + hr.pb {border:none;page-break-after: always;} + .pagenum { display:none; } + } + p.typewriter {font-size:0.9em; font-family:Gill, Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left:2.5em;} + p.dropcap:first-letter, p.dropcapq span.drop{float: left; margin-right: .05em; font-size: 275%; line-height: 78%; padding-top: 2.5px; width: auto;} + h3 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal; font-size:1.0em;} + h3.pg {text-align:center; font-weight:bold; font-size:110%;} + .trnote {background-color: #F5F5F5; color: inherit; margin: 5%; font-size: 85%; padding: 0.5em 1em; border: 1px solid gray;} + p.dropcapq small {float: left; font-size: 1.3em; font-weight: bold; width: auto;} + .figcenter {margin: 2em auto 2em auto; text-align: center;} + .figtag {height: 1px;} + hr.micro {width: 8%; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; clear:both; margin: 1em auto 0.2em;} + hr.invis {margin: 1em auto; visibility: hidden;} + .caption {font-size:0.8em; text-align:center;} + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; clear: both;} + p.dropcapq span.drop{padding-top: 0; padding-bottom: 0;} + hr.invis2 {margin: .5em auto; visibility: hidden;} + h1 {text-align:center; font-weight:bold; font-size: 2.0em;} + hr.major {width: 65%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; clear:both;} + .blockquote .blockquote p{font-size:0.9em; margin-left:3em; margin-right:3em;} + .dcap {text-transform: uppercase;} + h2 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal; font-size: 1.4em;} + + hr.full { width: 100%; + margin-top: 3em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + height: 4px; + border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ + border-style: solid; + border-color: #000000; + clear: both; } + pre {font-size: 85%;} +</style> +</head> +<body> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Crevice, by William John Burns and Isabel +Ostrander, Illustrated by Will Grefe</h1> +<pre> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: The Crevice</p> +<p>Author: William John Burns and Isabel Ostrander</p> +<p>Release Date: July 6, 2009 [eBook #29331]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CREVICE***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3 class="pg">E-text prepared by Roger Frank, Darleen Dove,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> + +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_1' id='linki_1'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-fpc.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 294px; height: 442px;' /><br /> +<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center; width: 294px;'> +“I supposed that father was working late over some papers and I knew that I must not disturb him.”<br /> +</p> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<table style='margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; border: black 1px solid;' summary="title page"> +<tr><td> + +<table style='width:24em; padding:5px 10px; margin: 4px; border: black 1px solid;' summary=""> + +<tr><td> +<p style="font-size:2.3em; margin-top:0.5em; margin-bottom:1.5em; text-align:center;">THE CREVICE</p> + +<p style="font-size:1.3em; margin-bottom:3em; text-align:center;"> +<span style="font-size:0.7em;">BY</span><br />WILLIAM J. BURNS<br /><span style="font-size:0.7em;">AND</span><br />ISABEL OSTRANDER</p> + +<p style="font-size:1.1em; margin-bottom:3.5em; text-align:center;"> +<span style="font-size:0.8em; font-variant:small-caps;">illustrations by</span><br />WILL GREFÉ</p> + +<div class='figcenter'><img src='images/crevice-emb.png' alt="" /></div> + +<p style="font-size:1.1em; margin-top:3.5em; margin-bottom:1em; letter-spacing:0.2em; text-align:center;"> +NEW YORK<br /> +<span style="font-size:1.3em; letter-spacing:0.25em;">GROSSET & DUNLAP</span><br /> +PUBLISHERS</p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p style="text-align:center; font-variant:small-caps;">Copyright, 1915, by<br /></p> + +<p style="text-align:center">W. J. WATT & COMPANY</p> +<hr class='micro' /> +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> +<table border='0' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Contents' style='margin:1em auto;'> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'><p style='font-size:small;text-align:left'>CHAPTER</p></td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'> </td> + <td valign='top' align='right'><p style='font-size:small;text-align:right'>PAGE</p></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>I</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Pennington Lawton and the Grim Reaper</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_I_PENNINGTON_LAWTON_AND_THE_GRIM_REAPER'>1</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>II</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Revelations</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_II_REVELATIONS'>16</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>III</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Henry Blaine Takes a Hand</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_III_HENRY_BLAINE_TAKES_A_HAND'>29</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>IV</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Search</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_IV_THE_SEARCH'>38</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>V</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Will</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_V_THE_WILL'>53</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VI</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The First Counter-move</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VI_THE_FIRST_COUNTERMOVE'>66</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Letter</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VII_THE_LETTER'>78</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VIII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Guy Morrow Faces a Problem</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VIII_GUY_MORROW_FACES_A_PROBLEM'>98</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>IX</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Gone!</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_IX_GONE'>104</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>X</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Margaret Hefferman’s Failure</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_X_MARGARET_HEFFERMANS_FAILURE'>116</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XI</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Confidence of Emily</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XI_THE_CONFIDENCE_OF_EMILY'>134</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Cipher</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XII_THE_CIPHER'>154</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XIII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Empty House</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XIII_THE_EMPTY_HOUSE'>171</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XIV</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>In the Open</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XIV_IN_THE_OPEN'>192</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XV</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Checkmate!</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XV_CHECKMATE'>207</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XVI</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Library Chair</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XVI_THE_LIBRARY_CHAIR'>224</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XVII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Rescue</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XVII_THE_RESCUE'>240</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XVIII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Trap</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XVIII_THE_TRAP'>255</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XIX</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Unseen Listener</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XIX_THE_UNSEEN_LISTENER'>272</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XX</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Crevice</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XX_THE_CREVICE'>290</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXI</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Cleared Skies</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXI_CLEARED_SKIES'>308</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> +<table border='0' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Illustrations' style='margin:1em auto;'> +<col style='width:75%;' /> +<col style='width:25%;' /> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'></td> + <td valign='top' align='right'><p style='font-size:small;text-align:right;font-style:italic;'>PAGE</p></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'>“I supposed that father was working late over some papers and I knew that I must not disturb him.”</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_1'><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'>With the cunning of a Jimmy Valentine he manipulated the tumblers. Ramon Hamilton, his discomfiture forgotten, watched with breathless interest.</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_3'>94</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'>Her head was thrown back, her eyes blazing: and as she faced him, she slowly raised her arm and pointed a steady finger at the recoiling figure.</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_6'>262</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +<hr class='pb' /> +<h1>THE CREVICE</h1> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_1' name='page_1'></a>1</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_I_PENNINGTON_LAWTON_AND_THE_GRIM_REAPER' id='CHAPTER_I_PENNINGTON_LAWTON_AND_THE_GRIM_REAPER'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> +<h3>PENNINGTON LAWTON AND THE GRIM REAPER</h3> +</div> +<p class="dropcap" ><span class="dcap">Had</span> New Illington been part of an empire instead +of one of the most important cities in the +greatest republic in the world, the cry “The +King is dead! Long live the King!” might well have +resounded through its streets on that bleak November +morning when Pennington Lawton was found dead, +seated quietly in his arm-chair by the hearth in the +library, where so many vast deals of national import had +been first conceived, and the details arranged which had +carried them on and on to brilliant consummation.</p> +<p>Lawton, the magnate, the supreme power in the +financial world of the whole country, had been suddenly +cut down in his prime.</p> +<p>The news of his passing traveled more quickly than +the extras which rolled damp from the presses could +convey it through the avenues and alleys of the city, +whose wealthiest citizen he had been, and through the +highways and byways of the country, which his marvelous +mentality and finesse had so manifestly strengthened +in its position as a world power.</p> +<p>At the banks and trust companies there were hurriedly-called +directors’ meetings, where men sat about +long mahogany tables, and talked constrainedly about +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_2' name='page_2'></a>2</span> +the immediate future and the vast changes which the +death of this great man would necessarily bring. In the +political clubs, his passing was discussed with bated +breath.</p> +<p>At the hospitals and charitable institutions which he +had so generously helped to maintain, in the art clubs +and museums, in the Cosmopolitan Opera House––in +the founding of which he had been leading spirit and +unfailingly thereafter, its most generous contributor––he +was mourned with a sincerity no less deep because of +its admixture of self-interest.</p> +<p>In aristocratic drawing-rooms, there were whispers +over the tea-cups; the luck of Ramon Hamilton, the +rising young lawyer, whose engagement to Anita Lawton, +daughter and sole heiress of the dead financier, had +just been announced, was remarked upon with the frankness +of envy, left momentarily unguarded by the sudden +shock.</p> +<p>For three days Pennington Lawton lay in simple, but +veritable state. Telegrams poured in from the highest +representatives of State, clergy and finance. Then, +while the banks and charitable institutions momentarily +closed their doors, and flags throughout the city were +lowered in respect to the man who had gone, the funeral +procession wound its solemn way from the aristocratic +church of St. James, to the graveyard. The last extras +were issued, detailing the service; the last obituaries +printed, the final pæans of praise were sung, and the +world went on its way.</p> +<p>During the two days thereafter, multitudinous affairs +of more imperative public import were brought to light; +a celebrated murder was committed; a notorious band of +criminals was rounded up; a political boss toppled and +fell from his self-made pedestal; a diplomatic scandal of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_3' name='page_3'></a>3</span> +far-reaching effect was unearthed, and in the press of +passing events, the fact that Lawton had been eliminated +from the scheme of things faded into comparative insignificance, +from the point of view of the general public.</p> +<p>In the great house on Belleair Avenue, which the man +who was gone had called home, a tall, slender young girl +sat listlessly conversing with a pompous little man, whose +clerical garb proclaimed the reason for his coming. The +girl’s sable garments pathetically betrayed her youth, +and in her soft eyes was the pained and wounded look of +a child face to face with its first comprehended sorrow.</p> +<p>The Rev. Dr. Franklin laid an obsequious hand upon +her arm.</p> +<p>“The Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away; +blessed be the name of the Lord.”</p> +<p>Anita Lawton shivered slightly, and raised a trembling, +protesting hand.</p> +<p>“Please,” she said, softly, “I know––I heard you +say that at St. James’ two days ago. I try to believe, to +think, that in some inscrutable way, God meant it for the +best when he took my father so ruthlessly from me, with +no premonition, no sign of warning. It is hard, Dr. +Franklin. I cannot coordinate my thoughts just yet. +You must give me a little time.”</p> +<p>The minister bent his short body still lower before her.</p> +<p>“My dear child, do you remember, also, a later prayer +in the same service?”––unconsciously he assumed the +full rich, rounded, pulpit tones, which were habitual with +him. “‘Lord, Thou hast been our refuge from one generation +to another; before the mountains were brought +forth or ever the earth and world were made––’”</p> +<p>A low knocking upon the door interrupted him, and +the butler appeared.</p> +<p>“Mr. Rockamore and Mr. Mallowe,” Anita Lawton +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_4' name='page_4'></a>4</span> +read aloud from the cards he presented. “Oh, I can’t +see them now. Tell them, Wilkes, that my minister is +with me, and they must forgive me for denying myself +to them.”</p> +<p>The butler retired, and the Rev. Dr. Franklin, at the +mention of two of the most prominent and influential men +in the city since the death of Lawton, turned bulging, +inquiring eyes upon the girl.</p> +<p>“My dear child, is it wise for you to refuse to see two +of your father’s best friends? You will need their help, +their kindness––a woman alone in the world, no matter +how exalted her position, needs friends. Mr. Mallowe is +not one of my parishioners, but I understand that as +president of the Street Railways, he was closely associated +with your dear father in many affairs of finance. +Mr. Rockamore I know to be a man of almost unlimited +power in the world in which Mr. Lawton moved. Should +you not see them? Remember that you are under my +protection in every way, of course, but since our Heavenly +Father has seen fit to take unto Himself your dear +one, I feel that it would be advisable for you to place +yourself under the temporal guidance of those whom he +trusted, at any rate for the time being.”</p> +<p>“Oh, I feel that they were my father’s friends, but not +mine. Since mother and my little sister and brother +were lost at sea, so many years ago, I have learned to +depend wholly upon my father, who was more comrade +than parent. Then, as you know, I met Ramon––Mr. +Hamilton, and of course I trust him as implicitly as I +must trust you. But although, on many occasions, I +assisted my father to receive his financial confrères on a +social basis, I cannot feel at a time like this that I care +to talk with any except those who are nearest and dearest +to me.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_5' name='page_5'></a>5</span></div> +<p>“But suppose they have come, not wholly to offer you +consolation, but to confer with you upon some business +matters upon which it would be advantageous for you to +inform yourself? Your grief and desire for seclusion +are most natural, under the circumstances, but one must +sometimes consider earthly things also.” The minister’s +evidently eager desire to be present at an interview with +the great men and to place himself on a more familiar +footing with them was so obvious that Anita’s gesture +of dissent held also something of repugnance.</p> +<p>“I could not, Dr. Franklin. Perhaps later, when the +first shock has passed, but not yet. You understand +that I like them both most cordially. Those whom +father trusted must be men of sterling worth, but just +now I feel as must an animal which has been beaten. I +want to creep off into a dark and silent place until my +misery dulls a little.”</p> +<p>“You have borne up wonderfully well, dear child, +under the severe shock of this tragedy. Mrs. Franklin +and I have remarked upon it. You have exhibited the +same self-mastery and strength of character which made +your father the man he was.” Dr. Franklin arose from +his chair with a sigh which was not altogether perfunctory. +“Think well over what I have said. Try to realize +that your only consolation and strength in this hour +of your deepest sorrow come from on High, and believe +that if you take your poor, crushed heart to the Throne +of Grace it shall be healed. That has been promised us. +Think, also, of what I have just said to you concerning +your father’s associates, and when next they call, as they +will, of course, do very shortly, try to receive them with +your usual gracious charms, and should they offer you +any advice upon worldly matters, which we must not +permit ourselves to neglect, send for me. I will leave +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_6' name='page_6'></a>6</span> +you now. Mrs. Franklin will call upon you to-morrow. +Try to be brave and calm, and pray for the guidance +which will be vouchsafed you, should you ask it, frankly +and freely.”</p> +<p>Anita Lawton gave him her hand and accompanied +him in silence to the door. There, with a few gentle +words, she dismissed him, and when the sound of his +measured footsteps had diminished, she closed the door +with a little gasp of half relief, and turned to the window. +It had been an effort to her to see and talk with her +spiritual adviser, whose hypocrisy she had vaguely felt.</p> +<p>If only Ramon had come––Ramon, whose wife she +would be in so short a time, and who must now be father +as well as husband to her. She glanced at the little +French clock on the mantel. He was late––he had +promised to be there at four. As she parted the heavy +curtains, the telephone upon her father’s desk, in the +corner, shrilled sharply. When she took the receiver off +the hook, the voice of her lover came to the girl as +clearly, tenderly, as if he, himself, stood beside her.</p> +<p>“Anita, dear, may I come to you now?”</p> +<p>“Oh, please do, Ramon; I have been waiting for you. +Dr. Franklin called this afternoon, and while he was here +with me Mr. Rockamore and Mr. Mallowe came, but I +could not see them. There is something I feel I must +talk over with you.”</p> +<p>She hung up the receiver with a little sigh, and for the +first time in days a faint suspicion of a smile lightened +her face. As she turned away, however, her eyes fell +upon the great leather chair by the hearth, and her +expression changed as she gave an uncontrollable shudder. +It was in that chair her father had been found on +that fateful morning, about a week ago, clad still in the +dinner-clothes of the previous evening, a faint, introspective +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_7' name='page_7'></a>7</span> +smile upon his keen, inscrutable face; his eyes +wide, with a politely inquiring stare, as if he had looked +upon things which until then had been withheld from his +vision. She walked over to the chair, and laid her hand +where his head had rested. Then, all at once, the tension +within her seemed to snap and she flung herself within its +capacious, wide-reaching arms, in a torrent of tears––the +first she had shed.</p> +<p>It was thus that Ramon Hamilton found her, on his +arrival twenty minutes later, and without ado, he gathered +her up, carried her to the window-seat, and made her +cry out her heart upon his shoulder.</p> +<p>When she was somewhat quieted he said to her gently, +“Dearest, why will you insist upon coming to this room, +of all others, at least just for a little time? The memories +here will only add to your suffering.”</p> +<p>“I don’t know; I can’t explain it. That chair there +in which poor father was found has a peculiar, dreadful +fascination for me. I have heard that murderers +invariably return sooner or later to the scene of their +crime. May we not also have the same desire to stay +close to the place whence some one we love has departed?”</p> +<p>“You are morbid, dear. Bring your maid and come +to my mother’s house for a little, as she has repeatedly +asked you to do. It will make it so much easier for +you.”</p> +<p>“Perhaps it would. Your mother has been so very +kind, and yet I feel that I must remain here, that there is +something for me to do.”</p> +<p>“I don’t understand. What do you mean, dearest?”</p> +<p>She turned swiftly and placed her hands upon his +broad shoulders. Her childish eyes were steely with an +intensity of purpose hitherto foreign to them.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_8' name='page_8'></a>8</span></div> +<p>“Ramon, there is something I have not told you or +any one; but I feel that the time has come for me to +speak. It is not nervousness, or imagination; it is a fact +which occurred on the night of my father’s death.”</p> +<p>“Why speak of it, Anita?” He took her hands from +his shoulders, and pressed them gently, but with quiet +strength. “It is all over now, you know. We must not +dwell too much upon what is past; I shall have to help +you to put it all from your mind––not to forget, but to +make your memories tender and beautiful.”</p> +<p>“But I must speak of it. It will be on my mind day +and night until I have told you. Ramon, you dined with +us that night––the night before. Did my father seem +ill to you?”</p> +<p>“Of course not. I had never known him to be in +better health and spirits.” Ramon glanced at her in +involuntary surprise.</p> +<p>“Are you sure?”</p> +<p>“Why do you ask me that? You know that heart-disease +may attack one at any time without warning.”</p> +<p>Anita sank upon the window-seat again, and leaned +forward pensively, her hands clasped over her knees.</p> +<p>“You will remember that after you and father had +your coffee and cigars together in the dining-room, you +both joined me?”</p> +<p>“Of course. You were playing the piano, ramblingly, +as if your thoughts were far away, and you +seemed nervous, ill at ease. I wondered about it at the +time.”</p> +<p>“It was because of father. To you he appeared in the +best of spirits, as you say, but I, who knew him better +than any one else on earth, realized that he was forcing +himself to be genial, to take an interest in what we were +saying. For days he had been overwrought and depressed. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_9' name='page_9'></a>9</span> +As you know, he has confided in me, absolutely, +since I have been old enough to be a real companion +to him. I thought that I knew all his business +affairs––those of the last two or three years at least––but +latterly his manner has puzzled and distressed me. +Then, while you were in the dining-room, the telephone +rang twice.”</p> +<p>“Yes; the calls were for your father. When he was +summoned to the wire he immediately had the connection +given to him on his private line, here in the library. +After he returned to the dining-room he did seem slightly +absent-minded, now that I think of it; but it did not +occur to me that there could have been any serious +trouble. You know, dearest, ever since the evening when +he promised to give you to me, he has consulted me, also, +to a great extent about his financial interests, and I +think if any difficulty had arisen he would have mentioned +it.”</p> +<p>“Still, I am convinced that something was on his +mind. I tried to approach him concerning it, but he +was evasive, and put me off, laughingly. You know +that father was not the sort of man whose confidence +could be forced even by those dearest to him. I had +been so worried about him, though, that I had a nervous +headache, and after you left, Ramon, I retired at once. +An hour or two later, father had a visitor––that fact +as you know, the coroner elicited from the servants, but +it had, of course, no bearing on his death, since the +caller was Mr. Rockamore. I heard his voice when I +opened the door of my room, after ringing for my maid +to get some lavender salts. I could not sleep, my headache +grew worse; and while I was struggling against it, +I heard Mr. Rockamore depart, and my father’s voice in +the hall, after the slamming of the front door, telling +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_10' name='page_10'></a>10</span> +Wilkes to retire, that he would need him no more that +night. I heard the butler’s footsteps pass down the +hall, and then I rose and opened my door again. I +don’t know why, but I felt that I wanted to speak to +father when he came up on his way to bed.”</p> +<p>Anita paused, and Ramon, in spite of himself, felt a +thrill of puzzled wonder at her expression, upon which +a dawning look, almost of horror, spread and grew.</p> +<p>“But he did not come, and after a while I stole to +the head of the stairs and looked down. There was a +low light in the hall and a brighter one from the library, +the door of which was ajar. I supposed that father +was working late over some papers, and I knew that I +must not disturb him. I crept back to bed at last, with +a sigh, but left my own door slightly open, so that if I +should happen to be awake when he passed, I might call +to him.</p> +<p>“Presently, however, I dozed off. I don’t know how +long I slept, but I awakened to hear voices––angry +voices, my father’s and another, which I did not recognize. +I got up and by the night-light I saw that the +hands of the little clock on my dresser pointed to nearly +three o’clock. I could not imagine who would call on +father so very late at night, and I feared at first it +might be a burglar, but my common sense assured me +that father would not stop to parley with a burglar. +While I stood wondering, father raised his voice +slightly, and I caught one word which he uttered. +Ramon, that word sounded to me like ‘blackmail!’ +Why, what is it? Why do you look at me so +strangely?” she added hastily, at his uncontrollable +start.</p> +<p>“I? I am not looking at you strangely, dear; it is +not possible that you could have heard aright. It must +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11' name='page_11'></a>11</span> +have been simply a fancy of yours, born of the state of +your nerves. You could not really have understood.” +But Ramon Hamilton looked away from her as he +spoke, with a peculiarly significant gleam in his candid +eyes. After a slight pause he went on: “No one in +the world could have attempted to blackmail your father. +He was the soul of honor and integrity, as no one knows +better than you. Why, his opinion was sought on every +public question. You remember hearing of some of the +political honors which he repeatedly refused, but he +could, had he wished, have held the highest office at the +disposal of the people. You must have been mistaken, +Anita. There has never been a reason for the word +‘blackmail’ to cross your father’s lips.”</p> +<p>“I know that I was not mistaken, for I heard more––enough +to convince me that I had been right in my surmise! +Father was keeping something from me!”</p> +<p>“Dear little girl, suppose he had been? Nothing, of +course, that could possibly reflect upon his integrity,––don’t +misunderstand me––but you are only twenty, you +know. It is not to be expected that you could quite +comprehend the details of all the varied business interests +of a man who had virtually led the finances of his +country for more than twenty years. Perhaps it was +a purely business matter.”</p> +<p>“I tell you, Ramon, that that man, whoever he was, +actually dared to threaten father. When I heard that +word ‘blackmail’ in the angriest tones which I had ever +heard my father use, I did something mean, despicable, +which only my culminating anxiety could have induced +me to do. I slipped on my robe and slippers, stole half-way +downstairs and listened deliberately.”</p> +<p>“Anita, you should not have done that! It was not +like you to do so. If your father had wished you to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12' name='page_12'></a>12</span> +know of this interview, don’t you think he would have +told you?”</p> +<p>“Perhaps he would have, but what opportunity was +he given? A few hours later, he was found dead in that +chair over there; the chair in which he sat while he was +talking with his unknown visitor.”</p> +<p>The young man sprang to his feet. “You can’t +realize what you are saying; what you are hinting! It +is unthinkable! If you let these morbid fancies prey +upon your mind, you will be really ill.” His tones were +full of horror. “Your father died of heart-disease. +The doctors and the coroner established that beyond the +shadow of a doubt, you know. Any other supposition +is beyond the bounds of possibility.”</p> +<p>“Of heart-disease, yes. But might not the sudden +attack have been brought on by his altercation with this +man? His sudden rage, controlled as it was, at the +insults hurled at him?”</p> +<p>“What insults, Anita? Tell me what you heard +when you crept down the stairs. You know you can +trust me, dear––you must trust me.”</p> +<p>“The man was saying: ‘Come, Lawton, be sensible; +half a loaf is better than no bread. There is no blackmail +about this, even if you choose to call it so. It is +an ordinary business proposition, as you have been told +a hundred times!’”</p> +<p>“‘It’s a damnable crooked scheme, as I have told you +a hundred times, and I shall have nothing to do with it! +This is final!’ Father’s tones rang out clearly and distinctly, +quivering with suppressed fury. ‘My hands +are clean, my financial operations have been open and +above-board; there is no stain upon my life or character, +and I can look every man in the face and tell him to +go where you may go now!’</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13' name='page_13'></a>13</span></div> +<p>“‘Oh, is that so!’ sneered the other man loudly. +Then his voice became insinuatingly low. ‘How about +poor Herbert––’ His tones were so indistinct that I +could not catch the name. Then he went on more defiantly, +‘His wife––’ He didn’t finish the sentence, +Ramon, for father groaned suddenly, terribly, as if he +were in swift pain; the man gave a little sneering laugh, +and I could hear him moving about in the library, +whistling half under his breath in sheer bravado. I +could not bear to hear any more. I put my hands over +my ears and fled back to my room. What could it mean, +Ramon? What is this about father and some other +man and his wife which the stranger dared to insinuate! +reflected upon father’s integrity? Why should he have +groaned as if the very mention of these people hurt him +inexpressibly?”</p> +<p>“I don’t know, dear.” Ramon Hamilton sat with his +honest eyes still turned from her. “You must have +been mistaken; perhaps you even dreamed it all.” +Anita Lawton gave an impatient gesture.</p> +<p>“I am not quite the child you think me, Ramon. +Could that man have meant to insinuate that father in +his own advancement had trod upon and ruined some +one else, as financiers have always done? Could he +have meant that father had driven this man and his wife +to despair? I cannot bear to think of it. I try to +thrust it from my thoughts a dozen times a day, but +that groan from father’s lips sounded so much like one +of remorse that hideous ideas come beating in on my +brain. Was my father like other rich men, Ramon? +He did not live for money, although the successful +manipulation of it was almost a passion with him. He +lived for me, always for me, and the good that he would +be able to do in this world.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14' name='page_14'></a>14</span></div> +<p>“Of course he did, darling. No one who knew him +could imagine otherwise for a moment.” He hesitated, +and then added, “No one else discovered this man’s +presence in the house that night? You have told no +one? Not the doctor, or the coroner, or Dr. Franklin?”</p> +<p>“Oh, no; if I had it would have been necessary for me +to have told what I overheard. Besides, it could have +had no direct bearing on daddy’s death; that was caused +by heart-disease, as you say. But I believe, and I always +will believe, that that man killed father, as surely, +as inevitably, as if he had stabbed or shot or poisoned +him! Why did he come like a thief in the night? +Father’s integrity, his honor, were known to all the +world. Why did that reference to this Herbert and his +wife cause him such pain?”</p> +<p>“I don’t know, dear; I have no more idea than you. +If you really, really overheard that conversation, as you +seem convinced you did, you did well in keeping it to +yourself. Let that hour remain buried in your thoughts, +as in your father’s grave. Only rest assured that whatever +it is, it casts no stain upon your father’s good name +or his memory.” He rose and gathered her into his +arms. “I must go now, Anita; I’ll come again to-morrow. +You are quite sure that you will not accept +my mother’s invitation? I really think it would be better +for you.”</p> +<p>She looked deeply into his eyes, then drew herself +gently from his clasp. “Not yet. Thank her for me, +Ramon, with all my heart, but I will not leave my +father’s house just yet, even for a few days. I am sure +that I shall be happier here.” He kissed her, and left +the room. She stood where he had left her until she +heard the heavy thud of the front door. Then, turning +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15' name='page_15'></a>15</span> +to the window, she thrust her slim little hand between +the sedately drawn curtains, and waved him a tender +good-by; then with a little sigh, she dropped among the +pillows of the couch, lost in thought.</p> +<p>“Whatever was meant by that conversation which +I overheard,” she murmured to herself, “Ramon knows. +I read it in his eyes.”</p> +<p>The young man, as he made his way down the crowded +avenue, was turning over in his mind the extraordinary +story which the girl he loved had told him.</p> +<p>“What could it mean? Who could the man have +been? Surely not Herbert himself, and yet––oh! why +will they not let sleeping dogs lie; why must that old +scandal, that one stain on Pennington Lawton’s past +have been brought again to light, and at such a time? +I pray God that Anita never mentions it to anyone else, +never learns the truth. By Jove, if any complications +arise from this, there will be only one thing for me to do. +I must call upon the Master Mind.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16' name='page_16'></a>16</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_II_REVELATIONS' id='CHAPTER_II_REVELATIONS'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> +<h3>REVELATIONS</h3> +</div> +<p class="dropcap" ><span class="dcap">For</span> two days Anita wandered wraithlike about the +great darkened house. The thought that Ramon +was keeping something from her––that he and +her dead father together had kept a secret which, for +some reason, must not be revealed to her, weighed upon +her spirits. Conjectures as to the unknown intruder +on the night of her father’s death, and his possible purpose, +flooded her mind to the exclusion of all else.</p> +<p>In the dusk of the winter afternoon she was lying on +the couch in her dressing-room, lost in thought, when +Ellen, tapping lightly at the door, interrupted her +reverie.</p> +<p>“The minister, Miss Anita––the Rev. Dr. Franklin––he +is in the drawing-room.”</p> +<p>“Oh!” Anita gave a little movement of dismay. +“Tell him that I am suffering from a very severe headache, +and gave orders that I was not to be disturbed by +anyone. He means well, Ellen, of course, but he always +depresses me horribly, lately. I don’t feel like talking +to him this afternoon.”</p> +<p>The maid retired, but returned again almost immediately +with a surprised, half-frightened expression on +her usually stolid face.</p> +<p>“Please, Miss Anita, Dr. Franklin says he must see +you and at once. He seems to be excited and he won’t +take no for an answer.”</p> +<p>“Ramon!” Anita cried, springing from the couch +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17' name='page_17'></a>17</span> +with swift apprehension. “Something has happened +to Ramon, and Dr. Franklin has come to tell me. He +may be injured, dead! Ah, God would not do that; +He would not take him from me, too!”</p> +<p>“Don’t take on so, Miss Anita, dear,” the faithful +Ellen murmured, as she deftly smoothed the girl’s hair +and rearranged her gown; “the little man acts more as +if he had a fine piece of gossip to pass on––fidgeting +about like an old woman, he is. Begging your pardon, +Miss, I know he is the minister, of course, and I ought +to show him more respect, but he forever reminds me of +a fat black pigeon.”</p> +<p>The remarks of the privileged old servant fell upon +deaf, unheeding ears. Anita, sobbing softly beneath +her breath, flew down to the drawing-room, where the +pompous black-cloaked figure rose at her entrance. +But––was it purely Anita’s fancy or had some indefinable +change actually taken place in the manner of her +spiritual adviser? The rather close-set eyes seemed to +the girl to gleam somewhat coldly upon her, and although +he took both her hands in his in quick, fatherly +greeting, his hand-clasp appeared all at once to be lacking +in warmth.</p> +<p>“My poor child, my poor Anita!” he began unctuously, +but she interrupted him.</p> +<p>“What is it, Dr. Franklin? Has something happened +to Ramon?” she asked swiftly. “Please tell +me! Now, without delay! Don’t keep me in suspense. +I can tell by your face, your manner, that a new misfortune +has come to me! Does it concern Ramon?”</p> +<p>“Oh, no; it is not Mr. Hamilton. You need have no +fears for him, Anita. I have come upon a business matter––a +matter connected with your dear father’s estate.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18' name='page_18'></a>18</span></div> +<p>Anita motioned him to a chair. Seating herself opposite, +she gazed at him inquiringly.</p> +<p>“The settlement of the estate? Oh, the lawyers are +attending to that, I believe.” Anita spoke a little +coldly. Had Dr. Franklin come already to inquire +about a possible legacy for St. James’?</p> +<p>She was ashamed of the thought the next moment, +when he said gently, “Yes, but there is something which +I must tell you. It has been requested that I do so. It +is a delicate matter to discuss with you, but surely no +one is more fitted to speak to you than I.”</p> +<p>“Certainly, Doctor, I understand.” She leaned forward +eagerly.</p> +<p>“My dear, you know the whole country, the whole +world at large, has always considered your father to +have been a man of great wealth.”</p> +<p>“Yes. My father’s charities alone, as you are aware, +unostentatiously as they were conducted, would have +tended to give that impression. Then his tremendous +business interests––”</p> +<p>“Anita, at the moment of your father’s death he was +far from being the King of Finance, which the world +judged him to be. It is hard for me to tell you this, but +you must know, and you must try to believe that your +Heavenly Father is sending you this added trial for +some sure purpose of His own. Your father died a poor +man, Anita. In fact, a bankrupt.” The girl looked +up with an incredulous smile.</p> +<p>“Dr. Franklin, who could ever have asked you to come +to me with such an incredible assertion? Surely, you +must know how preposterous the very idea is! I do not +boast or brag, but it is common knowledge that my +father was the richest man in the city, in this entire +part of the country, in fact. The thought of such a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19' name='page_19'></a>19</span> +thing is absurd. Who could have attempted to perpetrate +such a senseless hoax, a ridiculous insult to your +intelligence and mine?”</p> +<p>The minister shook his head slowly.</p> +<p>“‘Common knowledge’ is, alas, not always trustworthy. +It is only too true that your father stood on +the verge of bankruptcy. His entire fortune has been +swept away.”</p> +<p>“Impossible!”</p> +<p>Anita started from her chair, impressed in spite of +herself. “How could that be? Who has told you this +terrible thing?”</p> +<p>“The unfortunate news was disclosed to me confidentially +by your late father’s truest friends and closest +associates. Having your best interests at heart, they +feel that you should know the state of affairs at once, +and came to me as the one best fitted to inform you.”</p> +<p>“I cannot believe it!” Anita Lawton sank back with +white, strained face. “I cannot believe that it is true. +How could such a thing have happened? They must be +mistaken––those who gave you such information. +Father was worth millions, at least. That I know, for +he told me much of his business affairs and up to the last +day of his life he was engaged in tremendous deals of +almost national importance.”</p> +<p>“Might he not have become so deeply involved in one +of them that he could not extricate himself, and ruin +came?” Dr. Franklin insinuated. “I know little of +finance, of course; and those who wished you to know +gave me none of the details beyond the one paramount +fact.”</p> +<p>“I know, of course, who were your informants,” +Anita said. “No one except my father’s three closest +associates had any possible conception of how much he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20' name='page_20'></a>20</span> +possessed, even approximately, for he was always secretive +and conservative in his dealings. Only to Mr. +Mallowe, Mr. Rockamore and Mr. Carlis did he ever +divulge his plans to the slightest extent. A bankrupt! +My father a bankrupt? The very words seem meaningless +to me. Dr. Franklin, there must be some hideous +mistake.”</p> +<p>“Unfortunately, it is no mistake, my poor child. +These gentlemen you mention, I may admit to you in +confidence, were my informants.”</p> +<p>“You say they gave you no details beyond the paramount +fact of my father’s ruin? But surely they must +have told you something more. I have a right to know, +Dr. Franklin, and I shall not rest until I do. How did +such a catastrophe come to him? There have been no +gigantic failures lately, no panics which could have +swept him down. What terrible mistake could he have +made, he whose judgment was almost infallible?”</p> +<p>The minister hesitated visibly, and when he spoke at +last, it was as if with a conscious effort he chose his +words.</p> +<p>“I do not think it was any sudden collapse of some +project in which he was engaged, Anita, but a––a general +series of misfortunes which culminated by forcing +him, just before his death, to the brink of bankruptcy. +You are a mere child, my dear, and could not be supposed +to understand matters of finance. If you will be +guided by me you will accept the assurance of your +friends who truly have your best interests at heart. +Their statements will be confirmed, I know, by the +lawyers who are engaged in settling up the estate of +your father. Do not, I beg of you, inquire too closely +into the details of your father’s insolvency.”</p> +<p>Anita rose slowly, her eyes fixed upon the face of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21' name='page_21'></a>21</span> +minister, and with her hands resting upon the chair-back, +as if to steady herself, she asked quietly:</p> +<p>“Why should I not? What is there which I, his +daughter, should not know? Dr. Franklin, there is +something behind all this which you are trying to conceal +from me. I knew my father to be a multi-millionaire. +You come and tell me he was a pauper instead, a +bankrupt; and I am not to ask how this state of affairs +came about? You have known me since I was a little +girl––surely you understand me well enough to realize +that I shall not rest under such a condition until the +whole truth is revealed to me!”</p> +<p>“I am your friend.” The resonance in the minister’s +voice deepened. “You will believe me when I tell you +that it would be best for your future, for the honor of +your father’s memory, to place yourself without +question in the hands of your true friends, and to ask +no details which are not voluntarily given you.”</p> +<p>“‘Best for my future!’” she repeated, aghast. +“‘For the honor of my father’s memory.’ What do you +mean, Dr. Franklin? You have gone too far not to +speak plainly. Do you dare––are you insinuating, +that there was something disgraceful, dishonorable about +my father’s insolvency? You have been my spiritual +adviser nearly all my life, and when you tell me that my +father was a bankrupt, that the knowledge comes to you +from his best friends and will be corroborated by his attorneys, +I am forced to believe you. But if you attempt +to convince me that my father’s honor––his good +name––is involved, then I tell you that it is not true! +Either a terrible mistake has been made or a deliberate +conspiracy is on foot––the blackest sort of conspiracy, +to defame the dead!”</p> +<p>“My dear!” The minister raised his hands in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22' name='page_22'></a>22</span> +shocked amazement. “You are beside yourself, you +don’t know what you are saying! I have repeated to +you only that which was told to me, and in practically +the same words. As to the possibility of a conspiracy, +you will realize the absurdity of such an idea when I deliver +to you the message with which I was charged. +Your father’s partner in many enterprises, the Honorable +Bertie Rockamore, together with President Mallowe, +of the Street Railways, and Mr. Carlis, the +great politician, promised some little time ago that they +would stand in <i>loco parentis</i> toward you should your +natural protector be removed. They desire me to tell +you that you need have no anxiety for the immediate +future. You will be cared for and provided with all +that you have been accustomed to, just as if your father +were alive.”</p> +<p>“Indeed? They are most kind––” Anita spoke +quietly enough, but with a curiously dry, controlled note +in her voice which reminded the minister of her father’s +tones, and for some inexplicable reason he felt vaguely +uncomfortable. “Please say to them that I do sincerely +appreciate their magnanimity, their charity, toward one +who has no right, legal or moral, to claim protection +or care from them. But now, Dr. Franklin, may I beg +that you will forgive me if I retire? The news you have +brought me of course has been a terrible shock. I must +have time to collect my thoughts, to realize the sudden, +terrible change this revelation has made in my whole life. +I am deeply grateful to you, to my father’s three associates, +but I can say no more now.”</p> +<p>“Of course, dear child.” Dr. Franklin patted her +hand perfunctorily and arose with ill-concealed relief +that the interview was at an end. He could not understand +her attitude of the last few moments and it +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23' name='page_23'></a>23</span> +troubled him vaguely. She had received the news of her +father’s bankruptcy with a girlish horror and incredulousness––which +had been only natural under the circumstances; +but when it was borne in upon her, in as +delicate a way as he could convey it, that dishonor was +involved in the matter, she had, after the first outburst, +maintained a stony, ashen self-poise and control that +were far from what he had expected. It was the most +disagreeable task he had performed in many a day and +he was heartily glad that it was over. Only his very +great desire to ingratiate himself with these kings of +finance, who had commissioned him to do their bidding, +as well as the inclination to be of real service to his +young and orphaned parishioner, had induced him to +undertake the mission.</p> +<p>“You must rest and have an opportunity to adjust +yourself to this new, unfortunate state of affairs,” he +continued. “I will call again to-morrow. If I can be +of the slightest service to you, do not hesitate to let me +know. It is a sad trial, but our Heavenly Father has +tempered the wind to the shorn lamb; He has provided +you with a protector in young Mr. Hamilton, and with +kind, true friends who will see that no harm or deprivation +comes to you. Try to feel that this added grief +and trouble will, in the end, be for the best.”</p> +<p>The alacrity with which he took his departure was +painfully obvious, but Anita scarcely noticed it. Her +mind was busy with the new, hideous thought, which had +assailed her at that first hint of dishonesty on the part +of her father––the thought that she was being made +the victim of a gigantic conspiracy.</p> +<p>As soon as she found herself alone, she flew to the +telephone. “Main, 2785,” she demanded.... “Mr. +Hamilton, please.... Is that you, Ramon?... Can +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24' name='page_24'></a>24</span> +you come to me at once? I need your advice and help. +Something has happened––something terrible! No, +I cannot tell you over the ’phone. You will come at +once? Yes, good-by, Ramon dear.”</p> +<p>She hung up the receiver and paced the floor restlessly. +Almost inconceivable as it had appeared to +her consciousness under the first shock of the announcement, +she might in time have come to accept the astounding +fact of her father’s insolvency, but that disgrace, +dishonor, could have attached itself to his name––that +he, the model of uprightness, of integrity could have +been guilty of crooked dealing, of something which must +for the honor of his memory be kept secret from the ears +of his fellow-men, she could never bring herself to believe. +Every instinct of her nature revolted, and underlying +all her girlish unsophistication, a native shrewdness, inherited +perhaps from her father, bade her distrust alike +the worldly, self-interested pastor of the Church of St. +James and the three so-called friends, who, although her +father’s associates, had been his rivals, and who had offered +with such astounding magnanimity to stand by +her.</p> +<p>Why had they offered to help her? Was it really +through tenderness and affection for her father’s daughter, +or was it to stay her hand and close her mouth to all +queries?</p> +<p>Why did not Ramon come? Surely he should have +been there before this. What could be detaining him? +She tried to be patient, to calm her seething brain while +she waited, but it was no use. Hours passed while she +paced the floor, restlessly, and the dusk settled into the +darkness of early winter. Wilkes came to turn on the +lights, but she refused them––she could think better in +the dark. The dinner-hour came and went and twice +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25' name='page_25'></a>25</span> +Ellen knocked anxiously upon the door, but Anita, torn +with anxiety, would pay no heed. She had telephoned +to Ramon’s office, only to find that he had left there immediately +upon receiving her message; to his home––he +had not returned.</p> +<p>Nine o’clock sounded in silvery chimes from the clock +upon the mantel; then ten and eleven and at length, just +when she felt that she could endure no more, the front +door-bell rang. A well-known step sounded upon the +stairs, and Ramon entered.</p> +<p>With a little gasp of joy and relief she flung herself +upon him in the darkness, but at an involuntary groan +from him she recoiled.</p> +<p>“What is it, Ramon? What has happened to you?”</p> +<p>Without waiting for a reply she switched on the light.</p> +<p>Ramon stood before her, his face pale, his eyes dark +with pain. One arm was in a sling and the thick hair +upon his forehead barely concealed a long strip of +plaster.</p> +<p>“Nothing really serious, dear. I had a slight accident––run +down by a motor-car, just after leaving the +office. My head was cut and I was rather knocked out, +so they took me to a hospital. I would have come before, +but they would not allow me to leave. I knew that +you would be anxious because of my delay in coming, +but I feared to add to your apprehension by telephoning +to you from the hospital.”</p> +<p>“But your arm––is it sprained?”</p> +<p>“Broken. I had a nasty crash––can’t imagine how +it was that I didn’t see the car coming in time to avoid +it. It was a big limousine with several men inside, all +singing and shouting riotously, and the chauffeur, I +think, must have been drunk, for he swerved the car +directly across the road in my path. They never +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26' name='page_26'></a>26</span> +stopped after they had bowled me over, and no one +seemed to know where they went.”</p> +<p>“Then the police did not get their number?”</p> +<p>“No, but they will, of course. Not that I care, particularly; +I’m lucky to have got off as lightly as I did. +I might have been killed.”</p> +<p>“It was a miracle that you were not, Ramon. Do +you know what I believe? I don’t think it was any accident, +but a deliberate attempt to assassinate you; to +keep you from coming to me.”</p> +<p>“What nonsense, dear! They were a wild, hilarious +party, careless and irresponsible. Such accidents happen +every day.”</p> +<p>“I am convinced that it was no accident. Ramon, +I feel that I am to be the victim of a conspiracy; that +you are the only human being who stands in the way of +my being absolutely in the power of those who would +defraud me and defame father’s name.”</p> +<p>“Anita, what do you mean?”</p> +<p>“Dr. Franklin called upon me this afternoon; he left +just before I telephoned to you. He told me an +astonishing piece of news. Ramon, would you have considered +my father a rich man?”</p> +<p>“What an absurd question, dear! Of course. One +of the richest men in the whole country, as you know.”</p> +<p>“You say that he consulted you about his business +affairs, and that you knew of no trouble or difficulty +which could have caused him anxiety? His securities in +stocks and bonds, his assets were all sound?”</p> +<p>“Certainly. What do you mean?”</p> +<p>“I mean that my father died a pauper! That on +the word of Mr. Rockamore, Mr. Mallowe, Mr. Carlis +and Dr. Franklin, he was on the verge of dishonorable +bankruptcy, into which I may not inquire.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27' name='page_27'></a>27</span></div> +<p>“Good Heavens, they must be mad! I am sure that +your father was at the zenith of his successful career, +and as for dishonor, surely, Anita, no one who knew him +could credit that!”</p> +<p>“Mr. Rockamore and the other two who were so +closely associated with him made a solemn promise to +my father shortly before his death, it seems, that they +would care for and provide for me. They sent Dr. +Franklin to me this afternoon to explain the circumstances +to me, and to assure me of their protection. +Save for you, they consider me absolutely in their +hands; and when I sent for you, you were almost killed +in the attempt to come to me. Ramon, don’t you see, +don’t you understand, there is some mystery on foot, +some terrible conspiracy? That unknown visitor, my +father’s death so soon after, and now this sudden revelation +of his bankruptcy, together with this accident to +you? Ramon, we must have advice and help. I do not +believe that my father was a pauper. I know that he +has done nothing dishonorable; I am convinced that the +accident to you was a premeditated attempt at murder.”</p> +<p>“My God! I can’t believe it, Anita; I don’t know +what to think. If it turns out that there really is something +crooked about it all, and Rockamore and the +others are concerned in it, it will be the biggest conspiracy +that was ever hatched in the world of high +finance. You were right, dear, bless your woman’s intuition; +we must have help. This matter must be thoroughly +investigated. There is only one man in America +to-day, who is capable of carrying it through, successfully. +I shall send at once for the Master Mind.”</p> +<p>“The Master Mind?”</p> +<p>“Yes, dear––Henry Blaine, the most eminent detective +the English-speaking world has produced.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28' name='page_28'></a>28</span></div> +<p>“I have heard of him, of course. I think father knew +him, did he not?”</p> +<p>“Yes, on one occasion he was of inestimable service +to your father. I will summon him at once.”</p> +<p>Ramon went to the telephone and by good luck found +the detective free for the moment and at his service.</p> +<p>He returned to the girl. She noticed that he reeled +slightly in his walk; that his lips were white and set +with pain.</p> +<p>“Ramon, you are ill, suffering. That cut on your +head and your poor arm––”</p> +<p>“It is nothing. I don’t mind, Anita darling; it will +soon pass. Thank Heavens, I found Mr. Blaine free. +He will get to the truth of this matter for us even +if no one else on earth could. He has brought more +notorious malefactors to justice than any detective of +modern times; fearlessly, he has unearthed political +scandals which lay dangerously close to the highest +executives of the land. He cannot be cajoled, bribed +or intimidated; you will be safe in his hands from the +machinations of every scoundrel who ever lived.”</p> +<p>“I have read of some of his marvelous exploits, but; +what service was it that he rendered to my father?”</p> +<p>“I––I cannot tell you, dearest. It was very long +ago, and a matter which affected your father solely. +Perhaps some time you may learn the truth of it.”</p> +<p>“I may not know! I may not know! Why must I +be so hedged in? Why must everything be kept from +me? I feel as if I were living in a maze of mystery. I +must know the truth.”</p> +<p>She wrung her hands hysterically, but he soothed her +and they talked in low tones until Wilkes suddenly appeared +in the doorway and announced:</p> +<p>“Mr. Henry Blaine!”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29' name='page_29'></a>29</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_III_HENRY_BLAINE_TAKES_A_HAND' id='CHAPTER_III_HENRY_BLAINE_TAKES_A_HAND'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> +<h3>HENRY BLAINE TAKES A HAND</h3> +</div> +<p class="dropcap" ><span class="dcap">A man</span> stood upon the threshold: a man of medium +height, with sandy hair and mustache slightly +tinged with gray. His face was alert and keenly +intelligent. His eyes shrewd, but kindly, the brows +sloping downward toward the nose, with the peculiar +look of concentration of one given to quick decisions +and instant, fearless action.</p> +<p>His eyes traveled quickly from the young girl’s face +to Ramon Hamilton, as the latter advanced with outstretched +hand.</p> +<p>“Mr. Blaine, it was fortunate that we found you at +liberty and able to assist us in a matter which is of vital +importance to us both. This is Miss Anita Lawton, +daughter of the late Pennington Lawton, who desires +your aid on a most urgent matter.”</p> +<p>“Miss Lawton.” Mr. Elaine bowed over her hand.</p> +<p>When they were seated she said, shyly: “I understand +from Ramon––Mr. Hamilton––that you were +at one time of great service to my father. I trust that +you will be able to help me now, for I feel that I am in +the meshes of a conspiracy. You know that my father +died suddenly, almost a week ago.”</p> +<p>“Yes, of course. His death was a great loss to the +whole country, Miss Lawton.”</p> +<p>“Something occurred a few hours before his death, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30' name='page_30'></a>30</span> +of which even the coroner is unaware, Mr. Blaine. I +told Mr. Hamilton what I knew, but he advised me to +say nothing of it, unless further developments ensued.”</p> +<p>“And they have ensued?” the detective asked quietly.</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>Anita then detailed to Mr. Blaine the incident of her +father’s nocturnal visitor. As she told him the conversation +she had overheard, it seemed to her that the +eyes of the detective narrowed slightly, but no other +change of expression betrayed the fact that the incident +might have held a significance in his mind.</p> +<p>“The voice was entirely strange to you?” he asked.</p> +<p>“Yes; I have never heard it before, but it made such +an impression upon me that I think I would recognize it +instantly whenever or wherever I might happen to hear +it.”</p> +<p>“You caught no glimpse of the man through the half-opened +door?”</p> +<p>“No, I was not far enough downstairs to see into the +room.”</p> +<p>“And when you fled, after hearing your father groan, +you returned immediately to your room?”</p> +<p>“Yes. I closed my door and buried my face deeply +in the pillows on my bed. I did not want to hear or +know any more. I was frightened; I did not know +what to think. After a time I must have drifted off into +an uneasy sort of sleep, for I knew nothing more until +my maid came to tell me that Wilkes, the butler, wished +to speak to me. My father had been found dead in his +chair. No one in the household seemed to know of my +father’s late visitor, for they made no mention of his +coming. I would have told no one, except Ramon, but +for the fact that this afternoon my minister informed +me that my father, instead of being the multi-millionaire +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31' name='page_31'></a>31</span> +we had all supposed him, had in reality died a +bankrupt.”</p> +<p>The detective received this information with inscrutable +calm. Only by a thoughtful pursing of his lips +did he give indication that the news had any visible effect +upon him.</p> +<p>Anita continued, giving him all the details of the minister’s +visit, and the magnanimous promise of her +father’s three associates to stand in <i>loco parentis</i> toward +her.</p> +<p>It was only when she told of summoning her lover, +and the accident which befell him on his way to her, that +that peculiar gleam returned again to the eyes of Mr. +Blaine, and they glanced narrowly at the young man +opposite him.</p> +<p>“As I told Ramon, I cannot help but feel that it is +not true. My father could not have become a pauper, +much less could he, the soul of honor, have been guilty +of anything derogatory to his good name. Until a +few days prior to his death, he had been in his usual +excellent spirits, and surely had there been any financial +difficulties in his path he would have retrenched, in some +measure. He made no effort to do so, however, and in +the last few weeks has given even more generously than +usual to the various philanthropic projects in which he +was so interested. Does that look as if he was on the +verge of bankruptcy? He bought me a string of pearls +on my birthday, two months ago, which for their size +are considered by experts to be the most perfectly +matched in America. A fortnight ago, he presented +me with a new car. Only three days before his death he +spoke of an ancient château in France which he had desired +to purchase. Oh, the whole affair is utterly inexplicable +to me!”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32' name='page_32'></a>32</span></div> +<p>“We will take the matter up at once, Miss Lawton. +The main thing that I must impress upon you for the +present is to acquiesce with the utmost docility and unsuspicion +in every proposition made to you by the three +men, Carlis, Mallowe and Rockamore; in other words, +place yourself absolutely in their hands, but keep me +informed of every move they make. You understand +that the most important factor in this case is to keep +them absolutely unsuspecting of your distrust, or that +you have called me to your assistance. I must not be +seen coming here or to Mr. Hamilton’s office, nor must +you come to mine. I will have a private wire installed +for you to-morrow morning, by means of which you can +communicate with me, or one of my operatives, at any +hour of the day or night, in the presence of anyone. +This telephone will connect only with my office, but the +number will be, supposedly, that of your dressmaker, and +if you require aid, advice, or the presence of one of my +operatives, you have merely to call up the number and +say: ‘Is my gown ready? If it is, please send it +around immediately.’ Let me know through this +medium whatever occurs, and take absolutely no one into +your confidence.”</p> +<p>“I understand, Mr. Blaine; and I will try to follow +your instructions to the letter. Oh, by the way, there +is something I wish to tell you, which no one, not even +Mr. Hamilton, knows, much less my father’s friends, or +my minister. Four years ago, my father financed a +philanthropic venture of mine, the Anita Lawton Club +for Working Girls. It is not a purely charitable institution, +but a home club, where worthy young women +could live by paying a nominal sum––merely to preserve +their self-respect––and be aided in obtaining positions. +Stenographers, telephone and telegraph operators, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33' name='page_33'></a>33</span> +clerks, all find homes there. No one knew, however, +that under my management, the club grew in less +than a year not only to have paid for itself, but to have +yielded a small income, over and above expenses. I did +not tell my father––I don’t know why, perhaps it was +because I inherited a little of his business acumen, but I +manipulated the net income in various minor undertakings, +even in time buying small plots of unimproved real-estate, +meaning after a year or two more to surprise my +father with the result of my venture, but his death intervened +before I could tell him about it.”</p> +<p>“Your father’s associates, then, believe you to be +without funds or private income of your own?” the detective +asked.</p> +<p>“Yes, Mr. Blaine. And whatever money is necessary +for the investigation, will, of course, be forthcoming +from this source.”</p> +<p>“Let me strongly advise you to make no mention of +it to anyone else; let these men believe you to be utterly +within their power financially. And now, Miss Lawton, +I will leave you, for I have work to do.” The detective +rose. “The private wire will be installed to-morrow +morning. Remember to be absolutely unsuspicious, to +appear deeply grateful for the kindness offered you; receive +these men and your spiritual adviser whenever they +call, and above all, keep me informed of everything that +occurs, no matter how <a name='TC_1'></a><ins title="Was ''insignficant'' in the original text">insignificant</ins> or irrelevant it may +seem to you to be. Keep me advised on even the smallest +details––anything, everything concerning you and +them.”</p> +<p>Thus it was, that when two days later, President +Mallowe of the Street Railways, called upon his new +ward, she received him with downcast eyes, and a charmingly +deferential manner. His long-nosed, heavy-jowled +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34' name='page_34'></a>34</span> +face, with the bristling gray side-whiskers, flushed darkly +when she placed her trembling little hand in his and +shyly voiced her gratitude for his great kindness to +her.</p> +<p>“My dear young lady, this has been a most sad and +unfortunate affair, but I have come to assure you again +of the sentiments of myself and my associates toward +you. We come, your self-appointed guardians; we will +see that no financial worriments shall come to you. Remember, +my dear, that I have three married daughters +of my own, and I could not permit the child of my old +friend to want for anything. You may remain on here +in this house, which has been your home, indefinitely, +and it will be maintained for you in the manner to which +you have always been accustomed.”</p> +<p>“Remain here in my home?” Anita stammered. +“Why it––it is my home, isn’t it?”</p> +<p>“You must consider it as such. I do not like to tell +you this, but it is necessary that you should know. I +hold a mortgage of eighty thousand dollars on the house, +but I have never recorded it, because of my friendship +and close affiliation with your father. I shall not have +it recorded now, of course, but there is a slight condition, +purely a matter of business, which in view of the +fact that through your coming marriage you will have +a home of your own, Mr. Rockamore, Mr. Carlis and +myself, feel that we should agree upon. Your father +has a shadowy interest in some old bonds which have +for years been unremunerative. Should they prove of +ultimate value, we feel that they should be transferred +to us as our reimbursement for the present large sum +which we shall lay out for you.”</p> +<p>“Of course, Mr. Mallowe. That would only be just. +I am glad that I may perhaps have an opportunity to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35' name='page_35'></a>35</span> +repay some of the kindness which in your great-hearted +charity, you are now bestowing upon me. I will see +that my father’s attorneys attend to the matter, as soon +as possible. It may be some little time before the estate +is settled, as of course it must be horribly complicated +and involved, but I will bring this to their immediate +attention.”</p> +<p>“You are a very brave young woman, Miss Lawton, +and I am glad that you are taking such a clear-sighted +view of this double catastrophe which has come upon +you. Ah, I had almost forgotten; here is a duplicate +of the mortgage which I hold upon this house, which +your father made out to me some months ago.”</p> +<p>Anita scarcely glanced at it, but laid it quietly by +upon the table, as though it were of small interest to +her.</p> +<p>“Mr. Mallowe, although I understand that Mr. +Rockamore, being a promoter, was more closely associated +with my father in various projects than you, I believe +that he always considered you his best friend. +Can you tell me what it was which brought my father’s +affairs to such a pass as this?”</p> +<p>“Dear young lady, do not ask me. It is a painful +subject to discuss, and as you are a mere child, you cannot +be supposed to understand the financial manœuvres +of a man of your father’s passion for gigantic operations. +Years of success had possibly made him overconfident; +and then you know, we are none of us infallible; +we are liable to make mistakes, at one time or +another. Your father interested himself daringly in +many schemes which we more conservative ones would +have hesitated to enter; indeed, we not only hesitated, +but repeatedly declined when your father placed the +propositions before us. As you know, unfortunately, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36' name='page_36'></a>36</span> +he was a man who would have resented any attempt at +advice, and although for a long time we have seen his +approaching financial downfall, and have helped him +in every way we could to avert it, he would not relinquish +his plans while there was yet time. Do not ask me to go +into any further details. It is really most distressing. +Your father’s attorneys will understand the matter fully +when the estate is finally settled.”</p> +<p>“I cannot understand it,” Anita murmured. “I +thought my father’s judgment almost infallible. However, +Mr. Mallowe, I cannot express my gratitude to +you and my father’s other associates for your great +kindness toward me. Believe me, I am deeply affected +by it. I shall never forget what you have done.”</p> +<p>“Do not speak of it, dear Miss Lawton. I only wish +for your sake that your poor father had heeded poorer +heads than his, but it is too late to speak of that now. +We will do all in our power to aid you, rest assured of +that. Should you require anything, you have only to +call upon Mr. Rockamore, Mr. Carlis or myself.”</p> +<p>When he had bowed himself out, Anita flew to the +table, seized the duplicate of the mortgage which he had +given her, and slipped it between the pages of a book +lying there. Then she went directly to her dressing-room +where on a little stand near her bed reposed a +telephone instrument which had not been there three +days previously.</p> +<p>“Grosvenor 0760,” she demanded, and when a voice +replied to her at the other end of the wire, she asked +querulously, “Is not my new gown ready yet? If it is, +will you kindly send it over at once? I have also found +your last quarterly bill, and I think there is something +wrong with it. I will send it back by the messenger, +who brings my gown. Thank you; good-by.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37' name='page_37'></a>37</span></div> +<p>She took an envelope from the desk and returning to +the drawing-room slipped the duplicate mortgage within +it and sealed it carefully.</p> +<p>When, a few minutes later, a tall, dark, stolid-faced +young man appeared, with a large dressmaker’s box, +she placed the envelope in his hand.</p> +<p>“For Mr. Blaine,” she whispered. “See that it +reaches him immediately.”</p> +<p>A half hour afterward, Ramon Hamilton went to the +telephone in his office, and heard the detective’s voice +over the wire.</p> +<p>“Mr. Hamilton, have you among the letters and +documents at your office the signature of the person we +were discussing the other day?”</p> +<p>“Why, yes, I think so. I will look and see. If I +have do you wish me to send it around to you?”</p> +<p>“No, thank you. A messenger boy will call for it +in a few minutes.”</p> +<p>Wondering, Ramon Hamilton shuffled hastily through +the paper in the pigeon-holes of his desk until +he came to a letter from Pennington Lawton. He carefully +tore off the signature, and when the messenger boy +appeared, gave it to him. He would not have been so +puzzled, had he seen the great Henry Blaine, when a +few minutes had elapsed, seated before the desk in his +office, comparing the signature of the torn slip which he +had sent with that affixed to the duplicate mortgage.</p> +<p>A long, close, breathless scrutiny, with the most +powerful magnifying glasses, and the detective jumped +to his feet.</p> +<p>“That’s no signature of Pennington Lawton,” he exulted +to himself. “I thought I knew that fine hand, +perfectly as the forgery has been done. That’s the +work of James Brunell, by the Lord!”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38' name='page_38'></a>38</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_IV_THE_SEARCH' id='CHAPTER_IV_THE_SEARCH'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> +<h3>THE SEARCH</h3> +</div> +<p class="dropcap" ><span class="dcap">Henry Blaine,</span> the man of decision, wasted +no time in vain thought. Instantly, upon his +discovery that the signature of Pennington +Lawton had been forged, and that it had been done by +an old and well-known offender, he touched the bell on +his desk, which brought his confidential secretary.</p> +<p>“Has Guy Morrow returned yet from that blackmail +case in Denver?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir. He’s in his private office now, making out +his report to you.”</p> +<p>A moment later, there entered a tall, dark young +man, strong and muscular in build, but not apparently +heavy, with a smooth face and firm-set jaw.</p> +<p>“I haven’t finished my report yet, sir––”</p> +<p>“The report can wait. You remember James +Brunell, the forger?”</p> +<p>“James Brunell?” Morrow repeated. “He was before +my time, of course, but I’ve heard of him and his +exploits. Pretty slick article, wasn’t he! I understand +he has been dead for years––at least nothing +has been heard of his activities since I have been in +the sleuth game.”</p> +<p>“Did you ever hear of any of his associates?”</p> +<p>“I can’t say that I have, sir, except Crimmins and +Dolan; Crimmins died in San Quentin before his time +was up; Dolan after his release went to Japan.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39' name='page_39'></a>39</span></div> +<p>“I want to find Brunell. His closest associate was +Walter Pennold. I think Pennold is living somewhere +in Brooklyn, and through him you may be able to locate +Brunell––”</p> +<p>Morrow shrugged his shoulders.</p> +<p>“A retired crook in the suburbs. That’s going to +take time.”</p> +<p>“Not the way we’ll work it. Listen.”</p> +<p>The next morning, a tall, dark young man, strong +and muscular in build, with a smooth face and firm-set +jaw, appeared at the Bank of Brooklyn & Queens, and +was immediately installed as a clerk, after a private interview +with the vice-president.</p> +<p>His fellow clerks looked at him askance at first, for +they knew there had been no vacancy, and there was a +long waiting list ahead of him, but the young man bore +himself with such a quiet, modest air of <i>camaraderie</i> +about him that by the noon hour they had quite accepted +him as one of themselves.</p> +<p>During the morning a package came to the bank and +a letter which read in part:</p> +<p class="blockquote" >... I am returning these securities to you in the hope that +you may be able to place them in the possession of Jimmy +Brunell. They belong to him, and my conscience is responsible +for their return. I don’t know where to find him. I do +know that at one time he did some banking at the Brooklyn +& Queens Institution. If he does not do so now, kindly hold +these securities for Jimmy Brunell until called for, and in the +meantime see Walter Pennold of Brooklyn.</p> +<p>With the package and letter came a request from +Henry Blaine which those in power at the Brooklyn & +Queens Bank were only too glad to accede to, in order to +ingratiate themselves with the great investigator.</p> +<p>In accordance with this request, therefore, the affair +was made known by the bank-officials to the clerks as a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40' name='page_40'></a>40</span> +matter of long standing which had only just been rediscovered +in an old vault, and the subordinates discussed +it among themselves with the gusto of those whose lives +were bounded by gilt cages, and circumscribed by rules +of silence. It was not unusual, therefore, that the new +clerk, Alfred Hicks, should have heard of it, but it was +unusual that he should find it expedient to make a detour +on his way to work the next morning which would take +him to the gate of Walter Pennold’s modest home. +Perhaps the fact that Alfred Hicks’ real name was Guy +Morrow and that a letter received early that morning +from Henry Blaine’s office, giving Pennold’s address +and a single line of instruction may have had much to do +with his matutinal visit.</p> +<p>Be that as it may, Morrow, the dapper young bank-clerk, +found in the Pennold household a grizzled, middle-aged +man, with shifty, suspicious eyes and a moist hand-clasp; +behind him appeared a shrewish, thin-haired wife +who eyed the intruder from the first with ill-concealed +animosity.</p> +<p>He smiled––that frank, winning smile which had +helped to land more men behind the bars than the astuteness +of many of his seniors––and said: “I’m a clerk +in the Brooklyn & Queens Bank, Mr. Pennold, and we +have a box of securities there evidently belonging to one +Jimmy Brunell. No one knows anything about it and +no note came with it except a line which read: ‘Hold +for Jim Brunell. See Walter Pennold of Brooklyn.’ +Now you’re the only Walter Pennold who banks with +the B. & Q. and I thought you might like to know about +it. There are over two hundred thousand dollars in securities +and they have evidently been left there by somebody +as conscience-money. You can go to the bank and +see the people about it, of course. In fact, I understand +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41' name='page_41'></a>41</span> +they are going to write you a letter concerning it, +but I thought you might like to know of it in advance. +In case this Mr. Brunell is alive, they will pay him the +money on demand, or if dead, to his heirs after him.”</p> +<p>The middle-aged man with the shifty eyes spat +cautiously, and then, rubbing his stubby chin with a +hairy, freckled hand, observed:</p> +<p>“Well, young man, I’m Pennold, all right. I do some +business with the Brooklyn & Queens people––small +business, of course, for we poor honest folk haven’t the +money to put in finance that the big stock-holders have. +I don’t know where you can find this man Brunell, +haven’t heard of him in years, but I understand he went +wrong. Ain’t that so, Mame?”</p> +<p>The hatchet-faced woman nodded her head in slow +and non-committal thought.</p> +<p>Pennold edged a little nearer his unknown guest and +asked in a tone of would-be heartiness. “And what +might your name be? You’re a bright-looking feller +to be a bank-clerk––not the stolid, plodding kind.”</p> +<p>Morrow chuckled again.</p> +<p>“My name is Hicks. I live at 46 Jefferson Place. +It’s only a little way from here, you know.” He swung +his lunch-box nonchalantly. “Of course, bank-clerking +don’t get you anywhere, but it’s steady, such as it +is, and I go out with the boys a lot.” He added confidentially: +“The ponies are still running, you know, +even if the betting-ring is closed––and there are other +ways––” He paused significantly.</p> +<p>“I see, a sport, eh?” Pennold darted a quick glance +at his wife. “Well, don’t let it get the best of you, +young feller. Remember what I told you about Jimmy +Brunell––at least, what the report of him was. If I +hear anything of where he is, I’ll let the bank know.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42' name='page_42'></a>42</span></div> +<p>“I’ll be getting on; I’m late now––” Morrow +paused on the bottom step of the little porch and turned. +“See you again, Mr. Pennold, and your wife, if you’ll +let me. I pass by here often––I’ve been boarding with +Mrs. Lindsay, on Jefferson Place, for some time now. +By the way, have you seen the sporting page of the +<i>Gazette</i> this morning? Al Goetz edits it, you know, +and he gives you the straight dope. There’ll be nothing +to that fight they’re pulling off Saturday night at +the Zucker Athletic Club––Hennessey’ll put it all over +Schnabel in the first round. Good-by! If you hear +anything of this Brunell, be sure you let me or the bank +know!”</p> +<p>For a long moment after his buoyant stride had carried +him out of sight around the corner, Walter Pennold +and his wife sat in thoughtful silence. Then the +woman spoke.</p> +<p>“What d’ye think of it all, Wally?”</p> +<p>“Dunno.” The gentleman addressed drew from his +pocket a blackened, odoriferous pipe and sucked upon +it. “Must be some lay, of course. I’ll go up to the +bank and find out what I can, but I don’t think that +young feller, Hicks, is in on it. I’ve been in the game +for forty years, and if I’m a judge, he’s no ’tec. Fool +kid spendin’ more’n he earns and out for what coin he +can grab. I’ll look up that landlady of his, too, Mame; +and if he’s on the level there, and at the bank––”</p> +<p>“And if those securities are at the bank, he ought +to be willin’ to come in with us on a share,” the wife +supplemented shrewdly. “But it seems like some kind +of a gag to me. You knew all Jimmy Brunell’s jobs till +he got religion or somethin’, and turned honest––I +can’t think of any old crook who’d turn over that money +to him, two hundred thousand cold, because his conscience +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43' name='page_43'></a>43</span> +hurt him, can you? You know, too, how decent +and respectable Jimmy’s been livin’ all these years, putting +up a front for the sake of that daughter of his; +suppose this was a put-up game to catch him––what +do the bulls want him for?”</p> +<p>“I ain’t no mind-reader. I’ll look up this business of +securities, and then if the young feller’s talked straight, +we’ll try to work it through him, if we can get to him, +and I guess we can, so long as I ain’t lost the gift of the +gab in twenty years. We’ll be as good, sorrowing heirs +as ever Jimmy Brunell could find anywheres.”</p> +<p>Before Walter Pennold could reach the bank, however, +an unimpeachably official letter arrived from that +institution, confirming the news imparted by the bank-clerk +concerning the securities left for James Brunell. +Pennold, going to the bank ostensibly to assure those +in authority there of his cordial willingness to assist in +the search for the heir, incidentally assured himself +of Alfred Hicks’ seemingly legitimate occupation. A +later visit to Mrs. Lindsay of 46 Jefferson Place convinced +him that the young man had lived there for some +months and was as generous, open-handed, easy-going +a boarder as that excellent woman had ever taken into +her house. Just what price was paid by Henry Blaine +to Mrs. Lindsay for that statement is immaterial to this +narrative, but it suffices that Walter Pennold returned +to the sharp-tongued wife of his bosom with only one +obstacle in his thoughts between himself and a goodly +share of the coveted two hundred thousand dollars.</p> +<p>That obstacle was an extremely healthy fear of +Jimmy Brunell. It was true that there had been no +connection between them in years, but he remembered +Jimmy’s attitude toward the “snitcher,” as well as toward +the man who “held out” on his pals; and behind +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44' name='page_44'></a>44</span> +his cupidity was a lurking caution which was made manifest +when he walked into the kitchen and found Mrs. +Pennold with her shriveled arms immersed in the washtub.</p> +<p>“Say, Mame, the young feller, Hicks, is all right, and +so is the bank; but how about Jimmy himself? If I +can fix the young feller, and we can pull it off with the +bank, that’s all well and good. But s’pose Jimmy +should hear of it? Know what would happen to us, +don’t you?”</p> +<p>“If he ain’t heard of them securities all this time +they’ve been lyin’ forgotten in the bank, it’s safe he +won’t hear of ’em now unless you tell him,” retorted his +shrewder half, dryly. “Of course, if he’s lived +straight, as he has for near twenty years as far as we +know, and he finds it out, he’ll grab everything for himself. +Why shouldn’t he? But s’pose the bulls are +after him for somethin’, and the bank’s hood-winked as +well as us, where are we if we mix up in this? Tell me +that!”</p> +<p>“There’s another side of it, too, Mame.”</p> +<p>Pennold walked to the window, and regarded the +sordid lines of washed clothes contemplatively. “What +if Jimmy has been up to somethin’ on the quiet, that the +bulls ain’t on to, and this bunch of securities is on the +level? If I went to him on the square, and offered him +a percentage to play dead, wouldn’t he be ready and +willin’ to divide?”</p> +<p>“Of course he would; he’s no fool,” returned Mrs. +Pennold shortly. “But let me tell you, Wally, I don’t +like the look of that ‘See Walter Pennold of Brooklyn,’ +on the note in the bank. S’pose they was trying to +trace him through us?”</p> +<p>“You’re talkin’ like a blame’ fool, Mame. Them securities +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45' name='page_45'></a>45</span> +has been there for years, forgotten. Everybody +knows that me and Brunell was pals in the old +days, but no one’s got nothin’ on us now, and he give +up the game years ago.”</p> +<p>“How d’you know he did?” persisted his wife doggedly. +“That’s what you better find out, but you’ve +gotter be careful about it, in case this whole thing should +be a plant.”</p> +<p>“You don’t have to tell me!” Pennold grumbled. +“I’ll write him first and then wait a few days, and if +anyone’s tailing me in the meantime, they’ll have a run +for their money.”</p> +<p>“Write him!”</p> +<p>“Of course. You may have forgotten the old cipher, +but I haven’t. You know yourself we invented it, +Jimmy and me, and the police tried their level best to +get on to it, but failed.”</p> +<p>“You can’t address it in cipher, and if you’re tailed +you won’t get a chance to mail it, Wally. Better wait +and try to see him without writing.”</p> +<p>For answer Pennold opened a drawer in the table, +drew forth a grimy sheet of paper and an envelope, and +bent laboriously to his task. It was long past dusk +when he had finished, and tossed the paper across the +table for his wife’s perusal. This is what she saw:</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_2' id='linki_2'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/png050.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 368px; height: 113px;' /><br /> +</div> +<p>When she had gazed long at the characters, she shook +her head at him, and a slow smile came over her face.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46' name='page_46'></a>46</span></div> +<p>“You’ve forgotten a little yourself, Wally. You +made a mistake in the <i>k</i>.”</p> +<p>He glanced half-incredulously at it, and then laid his +huge, rough hand on her thin hair in the first caress he +had given her in years.</p> +<p>“By God, old girl, you’re a smart one! You’re +right. Now listen. You’ve got to do the rest for me, +the hardest part. Mail it.”</p> +<p>“How? If we’re tailed––”</p> +<p>“There’ll be only one on the job, if we are, and I’ll +keep him busy to-morrow morning. You go to the +market as usual, then go into that big department store, +Ahearn & McManus’. There’s a mail chute there, next +the notion counter on the ground floor. Buy a spool of +thread or somethin’, and while you’re waitin’ for change, +drop the letter in the box. You used to be pretty slick +in department stores, Mame––”</p> +<p>“Smoothest shoplifter in New York until I got +palsy!” she interrupted proudly, an unaccustomed glow +on her sallow face. “I’ll do it, Wally; I know I can!”</p> +<p>The next morning Alfred Hicks was a little late in +getting to his work at the bank––so late, in fact, that +he had only time to wave a cordial greeting to his new +friends in their cages as he passed. He paused, however, +that evening, with a pot of flowering bloom for +Mrs. Pennold’s dingy, not over-clean window-sill, and a +packet of tobacco which he shared generously with his +host. He talked much, with the garrulous self-confidence +of youth, but did not mention the matter of the +securities, and left the crafty couple completely disarmed.</p> +<p>Neither on entering nor leaving did Hicks appear to +notice a short, swarthy figure loitering in the shadow +of a dejected-looking ailanthus tree near the corner. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47' name='page_47'></a>47</span> +It would have appeared curious, therefore, that the lurking +figure followed the bank-clerk almost to his lodgings, +had it not been for the fact that just before Jefferson +Place was reached the figure sidled up to Hicks’ +side and whispered:</p> +<p>“No news yet, Morrow. Pennold went this morning +to old Loui the Grabber and tried to borrow money from +him, but didn’t get it. I heard the whole talk. Then +he went to Tanbark Pete’s and got a ten-spot. After +that, he divided his time between two saloons, where he +played dominoes and pinochle, and his own house. I’ve +got to report to H. B. when I’m sure the subject is safe +for the night. Have you found anything yet?”</p> +<p>“Only that I’ve got him on the run. If he knows +where our man is, Suraci, he’ll go after him in a day or +two. Meantime, tell H. B., in case I don’t get a chance +to let him know, that the securities stunt went, all right, +and my end of it is O. K.”</p> +<p>The next day, and the following, Pennold did indeed +set for the young Italian detective a swift pace. He +departed upon long rambles, which started briskly and +ended aimlessly; he called upon harmless and tedious +acquaintances, from Jamaica to Fordham; he went––apparently +and ostentatiously to look for a position as +janitor––to many office-buildings in lower Manhattan, +which he invariably entered and left by different doors. +In the evenings he sat blandly upon his own stoop, +smoking and chatting amiably if monosyllabically with +his wife and their new-found friend, Alfred Hicks, while +his indefatigable shadow glowered apparently unnoticed +from the gloom of the ailanthus tree.</p> +<p>On Thursday morning, however, Pennold betook himself +leisurely to the nearest subway station, and there +the real trial of strength between him and his unseen +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48' name='page_48'></a>48</span> +antagonist began. From the Brooklyn Bridge station +he rode to the Grand Central; then with a speed which +belied his physical appearance, he raced across the +bridge to the downtown platform, and caught a train for +Fourteenth Street. There he swiftly turned north to +Seventy-second Street––then to the Grand Central, +again to Ninety-sixth, and so on, doubling from station +to station until finally he felt that he must be entirely +secure from pursuit.</p> +<p>He alighted at length at a station far up in the +Bronx, and after looking carefully about he started off +toward the west, where the mushroom growth of the new +city sprang up in rows of <a name='TC_2'></a><ins title="Was ''rococco'' in the original text">rococo</ins> brick and stone houses +with oases of green fields and open lots between. He +turned up a little lane of tiny frame houses, each set in +its trim garden, and stopped at the fourth cottage.</p> +<p>With a last furtive backward glance, Pennold +mounted the steps and rang the bell nervously. The +door was opened from within so suddenly that it seemed +as if the man who faced his visitor on the threshold must +have been awaiting the summons. He stepped quickly +out, shutting the door behind him, and for a short space +the two stood talking in low tones––Pennold eagerly, +insistently, the other man evasively, slowly, as if choosing +his words with care. He was as erect as Pennold +was shambling and stoop-shouldered, and although gray +and lined of features, his eyes were clear and more +steady, his chin more firm, his whole bearing more elastic +and forceful.</p> +<p>He did not invite his visitor to enter, and the colloquy +between them was brief. It was significant that they did +not shake hands, but parted with a brief though not unfriendly +nod. The tall man turned and re-entered his +house, closing the door again behind him, while Pennold +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49' name='page_49'></a>49</span> +scuttled away, without a farewell glance. It might +have been well had he looked once more over his shoulder, +for there, crouching against the veranda rail where +he had managed to overhear the last of the conversation, +was that short, swarthy figure which had followed +so indefatigably on his trail for three days––which had +clung to him, closely but unseen, through all his devious +journey of that morning. Suraci had not failed.</p> +<p>He tailed Pennold to his home, then went in person +with his report to the great Blaine himself, who heard +him through in silence, and then brought his mighty fist +down upon his desk with a blow which made the massive +bronze ink-well quiver.</p> +<p>“That’s our man! You’ve got him, Suraci. Good +work! Now wait a little; I want you to take some instructions +yourself over to Morrow.”</p> +<p>The next day the Pennolds missed the cheery greeting +of their new friend, the bank-clerk. Since the acquaintanceship +had been so recently formed, it was odd +that they should have been as deeply concerned over his +defection as they were. They said little that evening, +but when his absence continued the second day, Pennold +himself ambled down to the Brooklyn & Queens Bank +and reluctantly deposited twenty dollars, merely for the +pleasure of a chat with young Hicks. The latter’s +cheery face failed to greet him, however, within its +portals, and a craftily worded inquiry merely elicited +the information that he was no longer connected with +that institution.</p> +<p>“What do you make of it, Mame?” he asked anxiously +of his wife when he reached home. His step was +more shambling than ever, and his hands, clutching his +hat-brim, trembled more than her gnarled, palsied ones.</p> +<p>“I’ll tell you what I think when I’ve been around to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50' name='page_50'></a>50</span> +Mrs. Lindsay’s this afternoon––to 46 Jefferson +Place.”</p> +<p>“What’re you goin’ to do there? You can’t ask for +him, very well,” objected her spouse.</p> +<p>“Do?” she retorted tartly. “What would I do in +a boarding-house? Look for rooms for us, of course, +and inquire about the other lodgers to be sure it’s respectable +for a decent, middle-aged, married couple. +Do you think I’m goin’ lookin’ for a long-lost son? +The life must be gettin’ you at last, Wally! Your head +ain’t what it used to be.”</p> +<p>But Mrs. Pennold’s vaunted astuteness gained her +little knowledge which could be of value to her in their +late acquaintance. Mrs. Lindsay was a beetle-browed, +enormously stout old lady, with a stern eye and commanding +presence, who looked as if in her younger days +she might well have been a police-matron––as indeed +she had been. She had two double rooms and a single +hall bedroom to show for inspection, and she waxed surprisingly +voluble concerning the vacancy of the latter, +at the first tentative mention of her other lodgers, by +her visitor.</p> +<p>“As nice a young man as ever you’d wish to see, +ma’am. I don’t have none but the most refined people +in my house. Lived with me a year and a half, Mr. +Hicks did, except for his vacation––regular as clockwork +in his bills, and free and open-handed with his tips +to Delia. Of course, he wasn’t just what you might call +steady in his goings-out and comings-in, but there never +was nothin’ objectionable in his habits. You know +what young men is! He had a fine position in a bank +here in Brooklyn, but I don’t think the company he +kep’ was all that it might have been. Kind of flashy +and sporty, his friends was, and I guess that’s what got +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51' name='page_51'></a>51</span> +him into trouble. For trouble he was in, ma’am, when +he paid me yesterday in full even to the shavin’ mug +which I’d bought for his dresser, and meant him to keep +for a present––and picked up bag and baggage and +left. I always did think Friday was an unlucky day! +He stood in the vestibule and shook both my hands, and +there wasn’t a dry eye in his head or mine!</p> +<p>“‘Mis’ Lindsay!’ he says to me, just like I’m tellin’ +it to you. ‘Mis’ Lindsay, I can’t stay here no longer. +I wisht to heavings I could, for you’ve given me a real +home,’ he says, ‘but I’m not at the bank no more, and +I’m going away. I’m in trouble!’ he says. ‘I needn’t +tell you where I’m goin’ for I ain’t got a friend who’ll +ask after me or care, but I just want to thank you for +all your kindness to me, an’ to ask you to accept this +present, and give this dollar-bill to Delia, when she comes +in from the fish-store.’</p> +<p>“This is what he give me as a present, ma’am!” +Mrs. Lindsay pointed dramatically to a German silver +brooch set with a doubtful garnet, at her throat. +“And I was so broke up over it all, that I forgot and +give Delia the whole dollar, instead of just a quarter, +like I should’ve done. I s’pose I’d ought to write to his +folks, but I don’t know where they are. He comes from +up-State somewheres, and I never was one to pry in a +boarder’s letters or bureau-drawers. I’m just worried +sick about it all!”</p> +<p>Mrs. Lindsay would have made a superb actress.</p> +<p>When the interview was at an end and Mrs. Pennold +had rejoined her husband, they discussed the disappearance +of Alfred Hicks from every standpoint and came +finally to the conclusion that the young bank-clerk’s +sporting proclivities had brought him to ruin.</p> +<p>Meanwhile, in a modest cottage in Meadow Lane, in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52' name='page_52'></a>52</span> +the Bronx, a small card reading “Room to Let” had been +removed from the bay window, and just behind its curtains +a young man sat, his eyes fastened upon the house +across the way––the fourth from the end of the line. +He was a tall, dark young man with a smooth face and +firm-set jaw, and his new land-lady knew him as Guy +Morrow.</p> +<p>All at once, as he sat watching, the door of the cottage +opened, and a girl came out. There was nothing +remarkable about her; she was quite a common type of +girl: slender, not too tall, with a wealth of red-brown hair +and soft hazel eyes; yet there was something about her +which made Guy Morrow catch his breath; and throwing +caution to the winds, he parted the curtains and leaned +forward, looking down upon her. As she reached the +gate, his gaze drew hers, and she lifted her gentle eyes +and looked into his.</p> +<p>Then her lids drooped swiftly; a faint flush tinged her +delicate face, and with lowered head she walked quickly +on.</p> +<p>Guy Morrow sank back in his chair, and after the +warm glow which had surged up so suddenly within him, +a chill crept about his heart. What could that slender, +brown-haired, clear-eyed girl be to the man he had been +sent to spy upon––to Jimmy Brunell, the forger?</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53' name='page_53'></a>53</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_V_THE_WILL' id='CHAPTER_V_THE_WILL'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> +<h3>THE WILL</h3> +</div> +<p class="dropcap" ><span class="dcap">Henry Blaine</span> sat in his office, leisurely turning +over the pages of a morning newspaper; +his attitude was one of apparent idleness, but +the occasional swift glances he darted at the clock and +a slight lifting of his eyebrows at the least sound from +without betokened the fact that he was waiting for +some one or something.</p> +<p>His eyes scanned the columns of each page with +seeming carelessness, yet their keen glances missed not +one significant phrase. And suddenly his gaze was +transfixed by a paragraph tucked away in a corner of +the second page.</p> +<p>It was merely an account of trouble between capital +and labor in a distant manufacturing city, and a hint +of an organized strike which threatened for the immediate +future. The great detective was not at all a +politician, and the social and economic conditions of the +day held no greater import for him than for any other +conscientious, far-seeing citizen of the country, yet he +sat for a long moment with wrinkled brow and pursed +lips, musing, while the newspaper dropped unheeded +upon the desk.</p> +<p>His reverie was suddenly interrupted by the sharp, +insistent tinkling of the telephone; a clear, girlish voice +came to him over the wire:</p> +<p>“Is this Grosvenor 0760? This is Miss Lawton +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54' name='page_54'></a>54</span> +speaking. An alteration must be made at once in that +last gown you sent me, and it is imperative that I see +you in person concerning it. It will be inconvenient for +me to have you come here this morning. Where shall I +see you? At your establishment or––”</p> +<p>She paused suggestively, and he replied with a hurried +question.</p> +<p>“It is absolutely necessary, Miss Lawton, that you +see me in person? You are quite sure?”</p> +<p>“Absolutely.” Her voice held a ring of earnestness +and something more which caused him to jump to a +lightning-like decision.</p> +<p>“Very well. I will meet you in twenty minutes at +your Working Girls’ Club. I am an architect, remember, +and you wish to build a new and more improved +institution of the same order on another site. Therefore, +you have met me there to show me over the old +building and suggest changes in its plans for the new +one. You understand, Miss Lawton? My name is +Banks, remember, and––be a few minutes late.”</p> +<p>“I understand perfectly. Thank you. Good-by.”</p> +<p>The receiver at the other end of the line clicked +abruptly, and the detective sprang to his feet.</p> +<p>A quarter of an hour later Blaine presented himself +at the Anita Lawton Club, where a trim maid ushered +him into a tiny office. There, behind the desk, sat a girl, +and at sight of her, the detective, master of himself as +he was, gave an imperceptible start.</p> +<p>There was nothing remarkable about her; she was +quite a common type of girl: slender, not too tall, with +a wealth of red-brown hair, and soft hazel eyes; yet she +reminded Blaine vaguely but insistently of some one else––some +one whom he had encountered in the past.</p> +<p>He recovered himself at once, and presented the card +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55' name='page_55'></a>55</span> +which announced him as the senior member of the firm +of Banks and Frost, architects.</p> +<p>“Whom did you wish to see, sir?” The girl turned +slowly about in her swivel chair and regarded him respectfully +but coolly. Her voice was low and gentle +and distinctly feminine, yet it brought to him again that +haunting sense of resemblance which the first vision of +her had caused.</p> +<p>“Miss Lawton,” he replied, quietly.</p> +<p>“But Miss Lawton is not here.” The girl’s surprise +was unfeigned.</p> +<p>“I have an appointment to meet her here at this time. +She may perhaps have been detained. She has arranged +to go over the club building with me. As you +see by my card, I am an architect and she is planning +more extensive work, I believe, along the lines instituted +here––at least that is the impression she has given my +firm. I will wait a short time, if I may. You are connected +with the official work of the club?”</p> +<p>“I am the secretary.” The girl paused and then +added, “I understand perfectly, sir. Will you be +seated, please? Miss Lawton had not told me of her +appointment here with you. She will without doubt +arrive shortly.”</p> +<p>Henry Blaine seated himself, and as she started to +turn back to her desk, he asked quickly:</p> +<p>“You must find the work here very interesting, do +you not? We––our firm––have erected several +philanthropic institutions of learning and recreation, +but none precisely on this order. Miss Lawton has +shown us the plans of this present club and we consider +the arrangement of the dormitories particularly ingenious, +with regard to economy of space and the requisite +sunlight and air.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56' name='page_56'></a>56</span></div> +<p>“Oh, yes!” The girl turned toward him swiftly, her +face suffused with interest. “Miss Lawton drew all the +plans herself, and they were not changed in the least. I +don’t see how they could possibly be improved upon. +Miss Lawton has done splendid work here, sir; the club +has been a wonderful success since it was first opened.”</p> +<p>“It must have been.” The detective paused, then +added easily, “I know that her late father was very +proud of her executive ability. You––er––you educate +young women here, do you not, and train them for +positions?”</p> +<p>“We not only train the members of the club, but +obtain positions for them, with reputable business +firms,” the girl answered.</p> +<p>“Indeed?” Blaine asked, with apparent surprise. +“What sort of positions do the members of your club +fill?”</p> +<p>“Whatever they are capable of acquiring a working +knowledge of. Filing clerks, stenographers, secretaries, +switchboard operators, telegraphers, even governesses. +We have never had a failure, and I think it is +because Miss Lawton gives not only her personal attention, +but real love and faith to each girl. She is––wonderful.”</p> +<p>The face of the young woman was rapt as she spoke, +and Blaine could guess without further explanation that +she herself was a protégée of Miss Lawton’s, and a +grateful one––unless she were playing a part. If so, +she was an actress of transcendent ability.</p> +<p>“You say that you have never had a failure. That +must, indeed, be encouraging,” Blaine remarked, tentatively. +“Perhaps we might arrange later with you or +Miss Lawton to place one or two of your clerks or +stenographers. We are enlarging our offices––”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57' name='page_57'></a>57</span></div> +<p>“Good morning!” a fresh young voice interrupted +him, and Anita Lawton stood upon the threshold. +“Did Mr. Banks come yet?––ah, yes, I see. How do +you do?”</p> +<p>Blaine arose, and Anita gave him her hand cordially. +His quick eyes observed that in passing she patted the +shoulder of her secretary affectionately, and the girl +looked up at her quickly, with eyes aglow. The truth +was no longer concealed from his discernment. The +girl was staunch in every fiber of her being.</p> +<p>“Miss Lawton, I am sorry, but I have really not any +too much time this morning. If we could proceed to +business at once.”</p> +<p>“Certainly. If you will come this way, Mr. +Banks––” At the door she paused, and turned to the +secretary: “I will see you later, dear.”</p> +<p>Anita led the detective swiftly through the wide, clean +halls and up the stairs, explaining in clear, distinct tones +the floor-plan. On the second floor she opened the door +leading into a little ante-room at the front of the house +just over the office, and when they were seated, she said +quickly, with rising excitement, although her voice was +carefully hushed.</p> +<p>“Mr. Bl––Banks, I have something to show you––my +father’s will! It was discovered, or rather, produced, +yesterday. The lawyers who have charge of the +estate––Anderson & Wallace, you know––seem to me +to be perfectly disinterested, and honest, but I am so +hedged in on every hand by a stifling feeling of deceit +and treachery that I feel I can trust no one save you and +Mr. Hamilton––not even poor old Ellen, my maid, who +has been with me since I was born!”</p> +<p>“I quite understand, Miss Lawton, and I realize how +difficult the situation is for you, but I want you to trust +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58' name='page_58'></a>58</span> +no one––at least, to the extent of giving them your +confidence. Now about the will; it was produced by +your late father’s attorneys?”</p> +<p>“No, by President Mallowe, of the Street Railways. +It appears that Father left it in his charge. Mr. Anderson +drew it; his partner, Mr. Wallace, witnessed it; +and they both assure me that it is absolutely authentic. +Here it is.”</p> +<p>She opened her bag and handed a long envelope to +him, but at first his attention was held by what she had +said, and he frowned as he repeated quickly:</p> +<p>“‘Authentic?’ I trust you did not show any suspicion +that you doubted for a moment that it was genuine?”</p> +<p>“Oh, by no means! It was Mr. Anderson himself +who took especial pains to assure me of its authenticity.”</p> +<p>Blaine regarded the envelope reflectively for a moment +before he raised the flap. Why had the attorney +considered it necessary to assure his late client’s daughter +that the will which he had himself drawn was genuine?</p> +<p>The will was short and to the point. In it Pennington +Lawton left everything of which he died possessed +to his daughter, unconditionally and without reservation.</p> +<p>“Of course, Miss Lawton, since you are only twenty, +and your father has named no guardian or trustee, the +courts will at once appoint one, and I have no hesitation +in saying that I believe the guardian so appointed +will be one of your father’s three associates, presumably +Mr. Mallowe. However, that will make little difference +in our investigation, and, since it is claimed that all your +father’s huge fortune is lost, the matter of a guardian +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59' name='page_59'></a>59</span> +cannot tie our hands in any way. Now, just a moment, +please.”</p> +<p>He drew from his pocket a small but powerful magnifying +glass and the slip of paper which Ramon Hamilton +had sent him, on which was the signature of the +late Pennington Lawton. Through the microscope he +carefully compared it with that affixed to the will and +then looked up reassuringly.</p> +<p>“It is quite all right, Miss Lawton. In my estimation +the will is authentic and your father’s signature +genuine.” He folded the paper, slipped it in its envelope +and returned it to her. “There is one thing now +which I must most earnestly caution you against. Do +not sign any paper, no matter who wishes it or orders +it––no matter if it is the most trivial household receipt. +Do not write any letters yourself, or notes to any one, +even to Mr. Hamilton; you understand they might be +intercepted. If anyone wishes you to sign a paper relating +to the matter of your father’s estate, say you cannot +do so until you have shown it in private to Mr. Hamilton––that +you have promised you will not do so. +Any other papers you can easily evade signing. As for +your private correspondence, obtain a social secretary, +and permit her to sign everything––one whom you can +trust––say, one of your girls from here, that girl downstairs, +for instance. What is her name?”</p> +<p>Anita Lawton rose, and a peculiar pained expression +passed over her features.</p> +<p>“I am sorry, Mr. Blaine––really, really I am sorry. +I cannot tell you her name. That was one of the conditions +under which she came to us here––that is why I +have given her an official position here in the Club. She +is staunch and faithful and true; I know it, I feel it; +and she is too high-principled to pass under any name +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60' name='page_60'></a>60</span> +not her own. I know and am heartily in sympathy with +the reason for her secretiveness. You know that I trust +you implicitly, but I know you would not have me go +back on my word when once it has been given.”</p> +<p>“Certainly not, Miss Lawton. I realize that many +of your protégées here may come of unfortunate antecedents. +If you feel that you can trust her, use her. Do +you feel equally sure of the other members of your +Club?”</p> +<p>“Absolutely. I feel that they all really love me; that +they would do anything for me they could in the world, +and yet I have done so little for them––only given them +the little help which I was able to bestow, which we +should all do for those less fortunate than ourselves.... +Why did you ask me, Mr. Blaine, if I felt that I could +trust the girls who have placed themselves under my +care?”</p> +<p>“Because we may have need of them in the future. +They may be of the most vital assistance to us in this +investigation, should events turn out as I anticipate and +they prove worthy of the charge it may be necessary for +me to impose on them. But enough of that for now. +If at any time you wish to see me, personally, telephone +me as you did this morning and I will meet you here.”</p> +<p>The detective left her in the office of the secretary, +and as he made his adieus to them both he cast a last +quick, penetrating glance at the girl behind the desk. +Again that vague sense of resemblance possessed him. +With whom was she connected? Why was her name so +significantly withheld?</p> +<p>In the meantime Guy Morrow, from his post of observation +in the window of the little cottage on Meadow +Lane, had watched the object of his espionage for several +fruitless days––fruitless, because the actions of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61' name='page_61'></a>61</span> +man Brunell had been so obviously those of one who felt +himself utterly beyond suspicion.</p> +<p>The erect, gray-haired, clear-eyed man had come and +gone about his business, without the slightest attempt at +concealment. A few of the simplest inquiries of his +land-lady had elicited the fact that the gentleman opposite, +old Mr. Brunell, was a map-maker, and worked at +his trade in a little shop in the nearest row of brick buildings +just around the corner––that he had lived in the +little cottage since it had first been erected, six years before, +alone with his daughter Emily, and before that, +they had for many years occupied a small apartment +near by––in fact, the girl had grown up in that neighborhood. +He was a quiet man, not very talkative, but +well liked by his neighbors, and his daughter was devoted +to him. According to Mrs. Quinlan, Guy Morrow’s +aforesaid land-lady, Emily Brunell was a dear, sweet +girl, very popular among the young people in the neighborhood, +but she kept strictly at home in her leisure +hours and preferred her father’s companionship to that +of anyone else. She was employed in some business capacity +downtown, from nine until six; just what it was +Mrs. Quinlan did not know.</p> +<p>Morrow kept well in the background, in case Mr. Pennold +should put in an appearance again, but he did not. +Evidently that conversation overheard by Suraci had +been a final one, concerning the securities at least, and +no one else called at the little cottage door over the way, +except a vapid-faced young man to whom Morrow took +an instant and inexplicable dislike.</p> +<p>Morrow made it a point to visit and investigate the +little shop at an hour when he knew Brunell would not be +there, and found in the cursory examination possible at +that time that its purpose seemed to be strictly legitimate. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62' name='page_62'></a>62</span> +A shock-headed boy of fifteen or thereabout was +in charge, and the operative easily succeeded in engaging +his stolid attention elsewhere while, with a bit of soft +wax carefully palmed in his left hand, he succeeded in +gaining an impression of the lock on the flimsy door. +From this he had a key made in anticipation of orders +from his chief, requiring a thorough search of the little +shop––orders which for the first time in his career, he +shrank from.</p> +<p>He made no effort to scrape an acquaintance with +Brunell himself, but frequently encountered, as if by +accident, the daughter Emily, on her way to and from +the subway station. If she recognized in him the young +lodger across the street, she made no sign, and as the +days passed, Morrow, the man, despaired of gaining her +friendship, save through her father, whom Morrow––the +operative––had received orders not to approach +personally.</p> +<p>Before he had seen her, had he known that the old +forger possessed a daughter, he would have laid his plans +to worm himself into the confidence of the little family +through the girl, but having once laid eyes upon her face +in all its gentle, trusting purity, every manly instinct in +him revolted at the thought of making her a tool of her +father’s probable downfall.</p> +<p>There was a third member of the Brunell household +whom Morrow had observed frequently seated upon the +doorstep, or on one of the lower window sills––a small, +scraggly black kitten, with stiff outstanding fur, and an +absurdly belligerent attitude whenever a dog chanced to +pass through the lane. It waited in the doorway each +night for the return of its mistress, and in the soft glow +of the lamplight which streamed from within, he had +seen her catch the little creature up affectionately and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63' name='page_63'></a>63</span> +cuddle it up against her neck before the door closed upon +them.</p> +<p>One afternoon in the early November twilight, as Morrow +was returning to his own door after shadowing +Brunell on an aimless and chilly walk, he saw the kitten +lying curled up just outside its own gate, and an inspiration +sprang to his ingenious mind. He seated himself +upon the steps of Mrs. Quinlan’s front porch and waited +until the darkness had deepened sufficiently to cloak his +nefarious scheme. Then, with soft beguiling tone––and +a few <i>sotto voce</i> remarks, for he hated cats––Morrow +began a deliberate attempt to entice the kitten across to +him.</p> +<p>“Come here, kitty, kitty,” he called softly. “Come, +pussy dear! Come here, you mangy, rat-tailed little +beast! Come cattykins.”</p> +<p>At his first words the kitten raised its head and regarded +him with yellow eyes gleaming through the dusk, +in unconcealed antagonism. But, at the soft, purring +flattery of his voice, the gleam softened to a glow of +pleased interest, and the little creature rose lazily, +stretched itself, and tripped lightly over to him, its tail +erect in optimistic confidence.</p> +<p>Morrow picked it up gingerly by the neck and tucked +it beneath his coat, stroking its head with a reluctant +thumb, while it purred loudly in sleepy content, at the +warmth of its welcome. The hour was approaching +when Emily Brunell usually made her appearance, and +he trusted to luck to keep the little animal quiet until she +had entered her home and discovered its loss, but the +fickle goddess failed him.</p> +<p>The kitten grew suddenly uneasy, as if some intuition +warned it of treachery, and tried valiantly to escape +from his grasp, and never did Spartan boy with wolf concealed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64' name='page_64'></a>64</span> +beneath his tunic suffer more tortures than Morrow +with the wretched little creature clawing at his +hands.</p> +<p>Would Emily Brunell never come? What could be +keeping her to-night, of all nights? Morrow gripped +the soft, elusive bundle of fur with desperate firmness +and looked across the street. Evidently he was not the +only one impatient for her arrival. The doorway opposite +had opened, and Jimmy Brunell stood peering anxiously +forth into the darkness.</p> +<p>At that moment the kitten emitted a fearsome yowl, +which Morrow smothered hastily with his coat. He +fancied that the old man turned his head quickly and +glanced in his direction, and never had the operative felt +guiltier.</p> +<p>Brunell, however, retired within, closing the door after +him, and the kitten’s struggles gradually grew weaker +and finally ceased.</p> +<p>Morrow felt a horrible fear surging up within him +that he had strangled the little beast, and his grasp +gradually relaxed. Then he opened his overcoat cautiously +and peered within. The kitten was sleeping +peacefully, and he heaved a sigh of relief, glancing up +just in time to see Emily Brunell pass quickly through +her own gate and up to the door.</p> +<p>He sat motionless on the steps of Mrs. Quinlan’s, and +his patience was rewarded when after a few moments +the Brunell’s door re-opened and he heard the girl’s +voice calling anxiously: “Kitty! Kitty!”</p> +<p>Morrow rose with unfeigned alacrity and crossing +the road, opened the little gate without ceremony and +mounted the steps of the porch.</p> +<p>“I beg your pardon,” he said blandly. “Is this +your kitten? It––er––wandered across the street to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65' name='page_65'></a>65</span> +me and fell asleep under my coat. I board just over the +way, you know, with Mrs. Quinlan. My name is Morrow.”</p> +<p>The girl gave a little cry of relieved anxiety, and +caught the kitten in her arms.</p> +<p>“Oh, I am so glad! I was afraid it was lost, and it +is so tiny and defenseless to be out all alone in the cold +and darkness. Thank you so much, Mr. Morrow. I +suppose it was waiting for me, as it usually does, and +grew restless at my delay, poor little thing! It was +kind of you to comfort it!”</p> +<p>Feeling like an utter brute, Morrow stammered a +humble disclaimer of her undeserved gratitude, and +moved toward the steps.</p> +<p>“Oh, but it was really kind of you; most men hate +cats, although my father loves them. I should have +been home much earlier but I was detained by some extra +work at the club where I am employed.”</p> +<p>“The club?” he repeated stupidly.</p> +<p>“Yes,” replied the girl, quietly, cuddling the kitten +beneath her chin. “The Anita Lawton Club for Working +Girls.”</p> +<p>She caught herself up sharply, even as she spoke, and +a look almost of apprehension crossed her ingenuous +face for a moment, and was gone.</p> +<p>“Thank you again for protecting my kitten for me,” +she said softly. “Good-night.”</p> +<p>Guy Morrow walked down the steps and across to his +own lodgings with his brain awhirl. The investigation, +through the medium of a small black kitten, had indeed +taken an amazing turn. Jimmy Brunell’s daughter was +a protégée of the daughter of Pennington Lawton!</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66' name='page_66'></a>66</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VI_THE_FIRST_COUNTERMOVE' id='CHAPTER_VI_THE_FIRST_COUNTERMOVE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> +<h3>THE FIRST COUNTER-MOVE</h3> +</div> +<p class="dropcap" ><span class="dcap">The</span> little paragraph in the newspaper, which, +irrelevant as it would seem, had caught the keenly +discerning eye of Henry Blaine, grew in length +and importance from day to day until it reached a position +on the first page, and then spread in huge headlines +over the entire sheet. Instead of relating merely +the incidents of a labor strike in a manufacturing city––and +that city a far-distant one––it became speedily +a sociological question of almost national import. The +yellow journals were quick to seize upon it at the psychological +moment of civic unrest, and throw out hints, +vague but vast in their significance, of the mighty interests +behind the mere fact of the strike, the great +financial question involved, the crisis between capital and +labor, the trusts and the common people, the workers and +the wasters, in the land of the free.</p> +<p>Henry Blaine, seated in his office, read the scare-heads +and smiled his slow, inscrutable, illuminating +smile––the smile which, without menace or rancor, had +struck terror to the hearts of the greatest malefactors of +his generation––which, without flattery or ingratiation, +had won for him the friendship of the greatest men in +the country. He knew every move in the gigantic game +which was being played solely for his attention, long +before a pawn was lifted from its place, a single counter +changed; he had known it, from the moment that the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67' name='page_67'></a>67</span> +seemingly unimportant paragraph had met his eyes; and +he also knew the men who sat in the game, whose hands +passed over the great chessboard of current events, +whose brains directed the moves. And the stakes? Not +the welfare of the workingmen in that distant city, not +the lifting of the grinding heel of temporal power from +the supine bodies of the humble––but the peace of mind, +the honorable, untarnished name, the earthly riches of +the slender girl who sat in that great darkened house on +Belleair Avenue.</p> +<p>Hence Blaine sat back quietly, and waited for the decisive +move which he knew to be forthcoming––waited, +and not in vain. The spectacular play to the gallery of +one was dramatically accomplished; it was heralded by +extras bawled through the midnight streets, and full-page +display headlines in the papers the next morning.</p> +<p>Promptly on the stroke of nine, Henry Blaine arrived +at his office, and as he expected, found awaiting him an +urgent telegram from the chief of police of the city +where the strike had assumed such colossal importance, +earnestly asking him for his immediate presence and assistance. +He sent a tentative refusal––and waited. +Still more insistent messages followed in rapid succession, +from the mayor of that city, the governor of that +state, even its representative in the Senate at Washington, +to all of which he replied in the same emphatic, negative +strain. Then, late in the afternoon, there eventuated +that which he had anticipated. Mohammed came +to the mountain.</p> +<p>Blaine read the card which his confidential secretary +presented, and laid it down upon the desk before him.</p> +<p>“Show him in,” he directed, shortly. He did not +rise from his chair, nor indeed change his position an +iota, but merely glanced up from beneath slightly raised +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68' name='page_68'></a>68</span> +eyebrows, when the door opened again and a bulky, +pompous figure stood almost obsequiously before him.</p> +<p>“Come in, Mr. Carlis,” he invited coolly. “Take +this chair. What can I do for you?”</p> +<p>It was significant that neither man made any move +toward shaking hands, although it was obvious that they +were acquainted, at least. The great detective’s tone +when he greeted his visitor was as distinctly ironical as +the latter’s was uneasy, although he replied with a mirthless +chuckle, which was intended to be airily nonchalant.</p> +<p>“Nothing for me, Mr. Blaine––that is, not to-day. +One can never tell in this period of sudden changes and +revolt, when our city may be stricken as another was just +a few hours ago. There is no better, cleaner, more +honestly prosperous metropolis in these United States +to-day, than Illington, but––” Mr. Carlis, the political +boss who had ruled for more than a decade in almost +undisputed sway, paused and gulped, as if his oratorical +eloquence stuck suddenly in his throat.</p> +<p>The detective watched him passively, a disconcerting +look of inquiring interest on his mobile face. “It is because +of our stricken sister city that I am here,” went on +the visitor. “I know I will not be in great favor with +you as an advocate, Mr. Blaine. We have had our little +tilts in the past, when you––er––disapproved of my +methods of conducting my civic office and I distrusted +your motives, but that is forgotten now, and I come to +you merely as one public-spirited citizen to another. +The mayor of Grafton has wired me, as has the chief of +police, to urge you to proceed there at once and take +charge of the investigation into last night’s bomb outrages +in connection with the great strike. They inform +me that you have repeatedly refused to-day to come to +their assistance.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69' name='page_69'></a>69</span></div> +<p>Blaine nodded.</p> +<p>“That is quite true, Mr. Carlis. I did decline the +offers extended to me.”</p> +<p>“But surely you cannot refuse! Good heavens, man, +do you realize what it means if you do? It isn’t only +that there is a fortune in it for you, your reputation +stands or falls on your decision! This is a public +charge! The people rely upon you! If you won’t, +for some reason of your own, come to the rescue now, +when you are publicly called upon, you’ll be a ruined +man!” The voice of the Boss ascended in a shrill +falsetto of remonstrance.</p> +<p>“There may be two opinions as to that, Mr. Carlis,” +Blaine returned quietly. “As far as the financial argument +goes, I think you discovered long ago that its appeal +to me is based upon a different point of view than +your own. You forget that I am not a servant of the +public, but a private citizen, free to accept or decline +such offers as are made to me in my line of business, as I +choose. This affair is not a public charge, but a business +proposition, which I decline. As to my reputation +depending upon it, I differ with you. My reputation +will stand, I think, upon my record in the past, even if +every yellow newspaper in the city is paid to revile me.”</p> +<p>Carlis rested his plump hands upon his widespread +knees, and leaned as far forward, in his eager anxiety, +as his obese figure would permit.</p> +<p>“But why?” he fairly wailed, his carefully rounded, +oratorical tones forgotten. “Why on earth do you decline +this offer, Blaine? You’ve nothing big on hand +now––nothing your operatives can’t attend to. There +isn’t a case big enough for your attention on the calendar! +You know as well as I do that Illington is clean +and that the lid is on for keeps! The police are taking +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70' name='page_70'></a>70</span> +care of the petty crimes, and there’s absolutely nothing +doing in your line here at the moment. This is the +chance of your career! Why on earth do you refuse +it?”</p> +<p>“Well, Mr. Carlis, let us say, for instance, that my +health is not quite as good as it was, and I find the air +of Illington agrees with it better just now than that of +Grafton.” Blaine leaned back easily in his chair, and +after a slight pause he added speculatively, with deliberate +intent, “I didn’t know you had interests there!”</p> +<p>The Boss purpled.</p> +<p>“Look here, Blaine!” he bellowed. “What d’you +mean by that?”</p> +<p>“Merely following a train of thought, Mr. Carlis,” +returned the detective imperturbably. “I was trying +to figure out why you were so desperately anxious to +have me go to Grafton––”</p> +<p>“I tell you I am here at the urgent request of the +mayor and the chief of police!” the fat man protested, +but faintly, as if the unexpected attack had temporarily +winded him. “Why in h––ll should I want you to go to +Grafton?”</p> +<p>“Presumably because Grafton is some fourteen hundred +miles from Illington,” remarked Blaine, his quietly +unemotional tones hardening suddenly like tempered +steel. “Going to try to pull off something here in +town which you think could be more easily done if I +were away? Cards on the table, Mr. Carlis! You +tried to bribe me in a case once, and you failed. Then +you tried bullying me and you found that didn’t work, +either. Now you’ve come again with your hook baited +with patriotism, public spirit, the cry of the people and +all the rest of the guff the newspapers you control have +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71' name='page_71'></a>71</span> +been handing out to their readers since you took them +over. What’s the idea?”</p> +<p>The Boss rose, with what was intended for an air of +injured dignity, but his fat face all at once seemed +sagged and wrinkled, like a pricked balloon.</p> +<p>“I did not come here to be insulted!” he announced +in his most impressive manner. “I came, as I told you, +as a public-spirited citizen, because the officials of another +city called upon me to urge you to aid them. I +have failed in my mission, and I will go. I am surprised, +Blaine, at your attitude; I thought you were too big a +man to permit your personal antagonism to me to interfere +with your duty––”</p> +<p>For the first time during their interview Blaine smiled +slightly.</p> +<p>“Have you ever known me, Mr. Carlis, to permit my +personal antagonism to you or any other man to interfere +with what I conceive to be my duty?”</p> +<p>Before he replied, the politician produced a voluminous +silk handkerchief, and mopped his brow. For +some reason he did not feel called upon to make a direct +answer.</p> +<p>“Well, what reason am I to give to the Mayor of +Grafton and its political leaders, for your refusal? +That talk about me trying to get you out of Illington, +Blaine, is all bosh, and you know it. <i>I’m</i> running Illington +just as I’ve run it for the last ten years, in spite of +your interference or any other man’s, and I’m going to +stay right on the job! If you won’t give any other +reason for declining the call to Grafton, than your +preference for the air of Illington, then the bets go as +they lay!”</p> +<p>He jammed his hat upon his head, and strode from +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72' name='page_72'></a>72</span> +the room with all the ferocity his rotund figure could +express. The first decisive move in the game had failed.</p> +<p>The door was scarcely closed behind him, when Blaine +turned to the telephone and called up Anita Lawton on +the private wire.</p> +<p>“Can you arrange to meet me at once, at your Working +Girls’ Club?” he asked. “I wish to suggest a plan +to be put into immediate operation.”</p> +<p>“Very well. I can be there in fifteen minutes.”</p> +<p>When the detective arrived at the club, he was +ushered immediately to the small ante-room on the second +floor, where he found Anita anxiously awaiting +him.</p> +<p>“Miss Lawton,” he began, without further greeting +than a quick handclasp, “you told me, the other day, +that your girls here were all staunch and faithful to +you. Your secretary downstairs had previously informed +me that they were trained to hold positions of +trust, and that you obtained such positions for them. +I want you to obtain four positions for four of the girls +in whom you place the most implicit confidence.”</p> +<p>“Why, certainly, Mr. Blaine, if I can. Do you mean +that they are to have something to do with your investigation +into my father’s affairs?”</p> +<p>“I want them to play detective for me, Miss Lawton. +Have you four girls unemployed at the moment?––Say, +for instance, a filing clerk, a stenographer, a governess +and a switchboard operator, who are sufficiently intelligent +and proficient in their various occupations, to assume +such a trust?”</p> +<p>“Why, yes, I––I think we have. I can find out, of +course. Where do you wish to place them?”</p> +<p>“That is the most difficult part of all, Miss Lawton. +You must obtain the positions for them. These three +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73' name='page_73'></a>73</span> +men who stand in <i>loco parentis</i> toward you, as you +say, and your spiritual adviser, Dr. Franklin, who so +obviously wishes to ingratiate himself with them, would +none of them refuse a request of this sort from you at +this stage of the game, particularly if they are really +engaged in a conspiracy against you. Go to these four +men––Mr. Mallowe first––and tell them that because +of the sudden, complete loss of your fortune, your club +must be disorganized, and beg them each to give one of +your girls, special protégées of yours, a position. Send +your filing clerk to Mr. Mallowe, your most expert +stenographer to Mr. Rockamore, your switchboard operator +to Mr. Carlis, and your governess into the household +of your minister. I have learned that he has three +small children, and his wife applied only yesterday at an +agency for a nursery governess. The last proposition +may be the most difficult for you to handle, but I think +if you manage to convey to the Reverend Dr. Franklin +the fact that your three self-appointed guardians have +each taken one of your girls into their employ, in order +to help them, and that his following their benevolent example +would bring him into closer <i>rapport</i> with them, +no objection will be made––provided, of course, the +young woman is suitable.”</p> +<p>“I will try, Mr. Blaine, but of course I can do nothing +about that until to-morrow, as it is so late in the +afternoon. However, I can have a talk with the girls, +if they are in now––or would you prefer to interview +them?”</p> +<p>“No, you talk with them first, Miss Lawton, and to-morrow +morning while you are arranging for their positions +I will interview them and instruct them in their +primary duties. I will leave you now. Remember that +the girls must be absolutely trustworthy, and the stenographer +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74' name='page_74'></a>74</span> +who will be placed in the office of Mr. Rockamore +must be particularly expert.”</p> +<p>After the detective had taken his departure, Anita +Lawton descended quickly to the office of the secretary.</p> +<p>“Emily,” she asked, “is Loretta Murfree in, or +Fifine Déchaussée?”</p> +<p>“I think they both are, Miss Lawton. Shall I ring +for them?”</p> +<p>“Yes, please, Emily; send them to me one at a time, +in the ante-room, and let me know when Agnes Olson and +Margaret Hefferman come in. I wish to talk with all +four of them, but separately.”</p> +<p>Loretta Murfree was the first to put in an appearance. +She was a short, dumpy, black-haired girl of +twenty, and she bounced into the room with a flashing, +wide-mouthed smile.</p> +<p>“How are you, dear Miss Lawton? We have missed +you around here so much lately, but of course we knew +that you must be very much occupied––”</p> +<p>She stopped and a little embarrassed flush spread +over her face.</p> +<p>“I have been, Loretta. Thank you so much for your +kind note, and for your share in the beautiful wreath you +girls sent in memory of my dear father.”</p> +<p>“Sure, we’re all of us your friends, Miss Lawton; +why wouldn’t we be, after all you’ve done for us?”</p> +<p>“It is because I feel that, that I wanted to have a +talk with you this afternoon. Loretta, if a position +were offered to you as filing clerk in the office of a great +financier of this city, at a suitable salary, would you +accept it, if you could be doing me a great personal service +at the same time?”</p> +<p>“Would I, Miss Lawton? Just try me! I’d take it +for the experience alone, without the salary, and jump +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75' name='page_75'></a>75</span> +at the chance, even if you weren’t concerned in it at all, +but if it would be doing you a service at the same time, +I’m more than glad.”</p> +<p>“Thank you, Loretta. The position will be with an +associate of my father’s, I think, President Mallowe of +the Street Railways. You must attend faithfully to +your duties, if I am able to obtain this place for you, +but I think the main part of your service to me will consist +of keeping your eyes open. To-morrow morning +a man will come here and interview you––a man in +whom you must place implicit confidence and trust, and +whose directions you must follow to the letter. He will +tell you just what to do for me. This man is my friend; +he is working in my interests, and if you care for me you +must not fail him.”</p> +<p>“Indeed I won’t, Miss Lawton! I’ll do whatever he +tells me.... You said that I was to keep my eyes +open. Does that mean that there is something you wish +me to find out for you?” she asked shrewdly.</p> +<p>“I cannot tell you exactly what you are to do for me, +Loretta. The gentleman whom you are to meet to-morrow +morning will give you all the details.” Anita +Lawton approached the girl and laid her hand on her +shoulder. “I can surely trust you? You will not fail +me?”</p> +<p>The quick tears sprang to the Irish girl’s eyes, and +for a moment softened their rather hard brilliance.</p> +<p>“You know that you can trust me, Miss Lawton! +I’d do anything in the world for you!”</p> +<p>Anita Lawton held a similar conversation with each of +the three girls, with a like result. To Fifine Déchaussée, +a tall, refined girl, with the colorless, devout face of a +religieuse, the probability of entering a minister’s home, +as governess for his children, was most welcome. The +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76' name='page_76'></a>76</span> +young French girl, homesick and alone in a strange +land, had found in Anita Lawton her one friend, and her +gratitude for this first opportunity given her, seemed +overwhelming. Margaret Hefferman rejoiced at the +possible opportunity of becoming a stenographer to the +great promoter, Mr. Rockamore; and demure, fair-haired +little Agnes Olson was equally pleased with the +prospect of operating a switchboard in the office of Timothy +Carlis, the politician.</p> +<p>Meantime, back in his office, Henry Blaine was receiving +the personal report of Guy Morrow.</p> +<p>“The old man seems to be strictly on the level,” he +was saying. “He attends to his own affairs and seems +to be running a legitimate business in his little shop, +where he prints and sells maps. I went there, of course, +to look it over, but I couldn’t see anything crooked about +it. However, when I left, I took a wax impression of +the lock, in case you wanted me to have a key made and +institute a more thorough investigation, at a time when +I would not be disturbed.”</p> +<p>“That’s good, Morrow. We may need to do that +later. At present I want you merely to keep an eye on +them, and note who their visitors are. You’ve been +talking with the girl you say––the daughter?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir––” The young man paused in sudden confusion. +“She’s a very quiet, respectable, proud sort of +young woman, Mr. Blaine––not at all the kind you +would expect to find the daughter of an old crook like +Jimmy Brunell. And by the way, here’s a funny coincidence! +She’s a protégée of Miss Lawton’s, employed in +some philanthropic home or club, as she calls it, which +Pennington Lawton’s daughter runs.”</p> +<p>“By Jove!” Blaine exclaimed, “I might have known +it! I thought there was something familiar about her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77' name='page_77'></a>77</span> +appearance when I first saw her! No wonder Miss Lawton +had promised not to divulge her name. It’s a small +world, Morrow. I’ll have to look into this. Go back +now and keep your eye on Jimmy.”</p> +<p>“Very well, sir.” Guy Morrow paused at the door +and turned toward his chief. “Have you seen the late +editions of the evening papers, Mr. Blaine? They’re +all slamming you, for refusing to accept the call to +Grafton, to investigate those bomb outrages last night.”</p> +<p>Henry Blaine smiled.</p> +<p>“There won’t be any more of them,” he remarked +quietly. “That strike will die down as quickly as it +arose, Morrow; the whole thing was a plant, and the +labor leaders and factory owners themselves were merely +tools in the hands of the politicians. That strike was +arranged by our friend Timothy Carlis, to get me away +from Illington on a false mission.”</p> +<p>“You don’t think, sir, that they suspect––”</p> +<p>“No, but they are taking no chances on my getting +into the game. They don’t suspect yet, but they will +soon––because the time has come for us to get busy.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78' name='page_78'></a>78</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VII_THE_LETTER' id='CHAPTER_VII_THE_LETTER'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> +<h3>THE LETTER</h3> +</div> +<p class="dropcap" ><span class="dcap">The</span> next morning, when Ramon Hamilton presented +himself at Henry Blaine’s office in answer +to the latter’s summons, he found the great detective +in a mood more nearly bordering upon excitability +than he could remember having witnessed before. +Instead of being seated calmly at his desk, his thoughts +masked with his usual inscrutable imperturbability, +Blaine was pacing restlessly back and forth with the disquietude, +not of agitation, but of concentrated, ebullient +energy.</p> +<p>“I sent for you, Mr. Hamilton,” he began, after +greeting his visitor cordially and waving him to a chair, +“because we must proceed actively with the investigation +into the alleged bankruptcy of Pennington Lawton. +We have been passive long enough for me to have gathered +some significant facts, but we now must make a +salient move. The time hasn’t yet come for me to step +out into the open. When I do, it will be a tooth-and-nail +fight, and I must be equipped with facts, not theories. +I want some particulars about Mr. Lawton’s insolvency, +and there is no one who could more naturally +inquire into this without arousing suspicion than you.”</p> +<p>“I don’t need to tell you, Mr. Blaine, how anxious +I am to do anything I can to help you, for Miss Lawton’s +sake,” Ramon Hamilton replied eagerly. “I +should like to have looked into the matter long ago––indeed, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79' name='page_79'></a>79</span> +I felt that suspicion must have been aroused in +the minds of Mallowe and his associates by the fact that +I accepted the astounding news of the bankruptcy as +unquestioningly as Miss Lawton herself, unless they +thought me an addlepated fool––but I didn’t want to +go ahead without direct instructions from you.”</p> +<p>“I did not so direct you, Mr. Hamilton, for a distinct +purpose. I wished the men we believe to be responsible +for the present conditions to be slightly puzzled by your +attitude, so that when the time came for you to begin +your investigation, they would be more completely reassured. +In order to make your questioning absolutely +bona fide, I want you to go first this morning to the office +of Anderson & Wallace, the late Mr. Lawton’s attorneys, +and question them as if having come with Miss +Lawton’s authority. Don’t suggest any suspicion of +there being any crookedness at work, but merely inquire +as fully as possible into the details of Mr. Lawton’s +business affairs. They will, in their replies, undoubtedly +bring in Mr. Mallowe, Mr. Rockamore and Mr. +Carlis, which will give you a cue to go quite openly and +frankly to one of the three––preferably Mallowe––for +corroboration. Knowing that you come direct from the +late Mr. Lawton’s attorneys, he will be only too glad to +give you whatever information he may possess or may +have concocted––and so lay open to you his plan of defense.”</p> +<p>“Defense? You think, then, Mr. Blaine, that they +anticipate possible trouble––exposure, even? Surely +such astute, far-seeing men as Mallowe and Rockamore +are, at least, would not have attempted such a gigantic +fraud if they’d anticipated the possibility of being discovered! +Carlis has weathered so many storms, so +many attacks upon his reputation and civic honor, that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80' name='page_80'></a>80</span> +he may have felt cocksure of his position and gone into +this thing without thought for the future, but the other +two are men of different caliber, men with everything in +the world to lose.”</p> +<p>“And colossal, unearned wealth to gain––don’t forget +that, Mr. Hamilton. Men of different caliber, I +grant you, but all three in the same whirlpool of crime, +bound by thieves’ law to sink or swim together. It is +because they are astute and far-seeing that they must +inevitably have considered the possibility of exposure +and safeguarded themselves against it with bogus corroborative +proof. If that proof is in tangible form, +and we can lay our hands on it, we shall have them where +we want them. Now go back to your office, Mr. Hamilton, +and dictate this letter to your stenographer, having +it left open on your desk for your signature. Don’t +wait for the letter to be typed, but proceed at once to the +office of Anderson & Wallace. You, as a lawyer, will +of course know the form of inquiry to use.”</p> +<p>The detective handed Ramon Hamilton a typewritten +sheet of paper from his desk; and the young man, after +hastily perusing it, gazed with a blank stare of amazement +into Blaine’s eyes.</p> +<p>“I can’t make this out,” he objected. “Who on +earth is Alexander Gibbs, and what has he to do with +Miss Lawton’s case? This letter seems to inform one +Alexander Gibbs that I have retained you to recover for +us the last will and testament of his aunt, Mrs. Dorothea +Gibbs. I have no such client, and I know no one in––what’s +the address?––Ellenville, Sullivan County.”</p> +<p>Blaine smiled.</p> +<p>“Of course you don’t, Mr. Hamilton. Nevertheless, +you will sign that letter and your secretary will mail it––that +is, after it has lain open upon your desk for +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81' name='page_81'></a>81</span> +casual inspection for a considerable length of time. One +of my operatives will receive it in Ellenville.”</p> +<p>“But what has it to do with the matter in hand?” +Ramon asked.</p> +<p>“Everything. I understand that you employ quite +an office force, for an attorney who has so recently been +admitted to the bar, and who has necessarily had little +time yet to build up an extensive practice. There may +be a spy in your office––remember that as Miss Lawton’s +fiancé and her only protector in this crisis, you are +the one whom they would safeguard themselves against +primarily. When I called you up this morning, to ask +you to come here, you very indiscreetly mentioned my +name over the telephone. Your entire office force will +know that you have been to consult me––this letter will +throw them off the track should there be a spy among +them, and will also give you a legitimate excuse to call +upon me frequently in the immediate future. You +realize that we also must safeguard ourselves, Mr. +Hamilton.”</p> +<p>The young man reddened.</p> +<p>“Of course. I did not think––I called you by name +inadvertently,” he stammered. “I’ll be more discreet +in the future, Mr. Blaine.”</p> +<p>“Memorize the gist of the letter on your way to your +office––particularly the name and address––and place +it securely in your vest pocket. When you have left +your office to go to Anderson & Wallace, destroy it carefully. +You had best, perhaps, stop in the lavatory of +some restaurant or public bar and burn it, or tear it into +infinitesimal pieces. Remember that everything depends +upon you now––upon your discretion and diplomacy.”</p> +<p>Hamilton followed Blaine’s instructions to the letter, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82' name='page_82'></a>82</span> +and an hour after he had left the detective he was closeted +with the senior member of the firm of Anderson & Wallace.</p> +<p>“My dear Mr. Hamilton, we have had so little time,” +Mr. Anderson expostulated. “Remember that Mr. +Lawton’s death occurred little more than a fortnight +ago, and even the most cursory examination has shown +us that his affairs were in a most chaotic condition. It +will take us weeks, months, to settle up so involved an +estate.</p> +<p>“At present we can give you little information. It is +by no means certain that Mr. Lawton was an absolute +bankrupt––we have not yet assured ourselves that nothing +can be saved from the wreckage. You cannot imagine +how aghast, thunderstruck, we were, when this present +state of affairs was made known to us. We have +been Mr. Lawton’s attorneys for more than twenty +years, and we thought that we knew every detail of his +multifarious transactions, but for some reason which +we cannot fathom he saw fit, within the last two years, +to change his investments without taking us into his confidence––and +with disastrous results.”</p> +<p>“Mr. Lawton was always conservative. He took no +one fully into his confidence,” Ramon Hamilton replied +guardedly.</p> +<p>“You knew, of course, that he had ideas about the +disposal of his vast wealth which many other financiers +would consider peculiar. He would never invest in real +estate, to our knowledge. His millions were placed entirely +in stocks and bonds, and for years he had stated +that his object was, in the event of his death, to save his +daughter and the trustees from unnecessary trouble +over real-estate matters. This makes his later conduct +all the more inexplicable. Mr. Mallowe has told me that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83' name='page_83'></a>83</span> +Mr. Lawton made several suggestions to him and to his +associates, Mr. Rockamore and Mr. Carlis, to go with +him into the unfortunate speculations which ultimately +caused his ruin. They were far-seeing enough to refuse.”</p> +<p>“Just what were these speculations, Mr. Anderson?”</p> +<p>“I can’t tell you at this moment. You’ll understand +that we don’t wish to make any statement until we can +do so definitely, and we are still, as I said, quite at sea. +We’ll try to straighten everything out as soon as possible, +and give you and Miss Lawton a full report. In +the meantime, why not consult Mr. Mallowe? He can +give you more explicit information concerning the late +Mr. Lawton’s speculation and final insolvency than we +shall be able to do for some time; or possibly, Mr. +Rockamore, or even Mr. Carlis might enlighten you. +All three seem to have been more conversant with Mr. +Lawton’s affairs than we, his attorneys.”</p> +<p>The dignified old gentleman’s voice held a note of +pained resentment, with which Ramon Hamilton could +not help but sympathize.</p> +<p>“I will adopt your suggestion, Mr. Anderson, and +call upon Mr. Mallowe at once. I can no more understand +than you can how it happens that Mr. Lawton +should have confided to such an extent in his business +associates, to the exclusion of you and Mr. Wallace––to +say nothing of his own daughter; but doubtless +there were financial reasons which we’ll learn. I will +take up no more of your valuable time, but will try to +see Mr. Mallowe immediately. If I learn any facts +you’re not now in possession of, I’ll let you know at +once.”</p> +<p>Mr. Mallowe, when approached over the telephone, +welcomed most cordially the proposed interview with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84' name='page_84'></a>84</span> +Miss Lawton’s fiancé. When the latter arrived, he was +greeted with a warm, limp hand-clasp, and seated confidentially +close to the president of the Street Railways.</p> +<p>“Mr. Anderson did well to suggest your coming to +me, Mr. Hamilton,” the magnate remarked unctuously. +“I believe I am in a position to give you a more comprehensive +idea of the circumstances which brought about +my esteemed friend’s unfortunate financial collapse at +the time of his death than my colleagues, because I was +closer to him in many ways, and I am confident that he +regarded me as his best friend. However, I don’t feel +that I can, in honor, violate the confidence of the dead +by giving any details just now––even to you and Miss +Lawton––of matters which have not yet been fully substantiated +by the attorneys. I know only from Mr. +Lawton’s own private statements that he was interested, +to the point one might almost say of mania, in a gigantic +scheme from which we, his friends, tried in vain to dissuade +him. He urged me especially to go in on it with +him, but because of the very position I hold, it would +have been impossible for me to consider it, even if my +better judgment hadn’t warned me against it.”</p> +<p>“Can’t you give me some idea of the nature of this +scheme?” Ramon asked. “I can’t believe, any more +easily than Miss Lawton can, that there could have been +anything that was not thoroughly open and above-board +about her father’s dealings. Surely, there can be no +reason for this extraordinary secrecy, particularly as +the newspapers had given to the world at large the unauthorized +statement, from a source unknown to Miss +Lawton or myself, that Pennington Lawton died a +bankrupt!”</p> +<p>The young man drew himself up sharply, as if fearful +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85' name='page_85'></a>85</span> +of having said too much, and for a moment there was +silence. Then Mr. Mallowe leaned back easily in his +chair and, removing his tortoise-shell rimmed eyeglasses, +tapped the desk thoughtfully with them as he +replied:</p> +<p>“That was regrettable, of course, Mr. Hamilton. +It must have been distressing in the extreme to Miss +Lawton, coming just at this time, but it would have had +to be revealed sooner or later, you know––such a +stupendous fact could not be hidden. There is no extraordinary +secrecy about the matter. When the attorneys +have completed their settlement of the estate, +everything will be clear to you and Miss Lawton. I +must naturally decline to give you any explanation +which would be, just now, merely an uncorroborated +opinion. I appreciate your feelings in this sudden, almost +overwhelming trouble which has come to Miss Lawton, +and I sympathize with both of you most heartily; +but one must have patience. You will pardon me, but +you are both very young, and that is the hardest lesson +of all for you to learn.”</p> +<p>His watery eyes beamed in fatherly benevolence upon +Ramon, and Anita’s fiancé felt his gorge rising. The +older man reminded him irresistibly of a cat licking its +chops before a canary’s cage, and it was with difficulty +he restrained himself to remark coldly:</p> +<p>“You told me at the beginning of this interview, Mr. +Mallowe, that I did well in coming to you, since you +could give me a more comprehensive idea of the circumstances +than anyone else, yet you have disclosed nothing +beyond a few vague suggestions––to any other man I +should have said, insinuations––and generalities which +we were already familiar with. Can’t you give me any +real information?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86' name='page_86'></a>86</span></div> +<p>“My dear boy, I intend to tell you all that I know +and can verify.” The silky smoothness of the magnate’s +tones had deepened in spite of himself, with a +steely undernote.</p> +<p>“I don’t know when the project which spelled his +ruin was first conceived by Mr. Lawton, but I believe +that he started to put it into active operation over +three years ago. He went into it with his usual cold +nerve, and then, when the pendulum did not swing his +way he kept heaping more and more of his securities on +the pyre of his ambition and pride in himself, until he +was forced to obtain large loans. That he did seek +and obtain such loans I can prove to you at the present +moment, in one instance at least, for it was through +me the affair was negotiated. I think he fully realized +his enormous error, but refused to admit it even to himself, +and strove by sheer force of will-power to carry a +hopeless scheme to success.”</p> +<p>“Sought loans! He––Pennington Lawton required +loans and obtained them through you?” Ramon almost +started from his chair. “Mr. Mallowe, you will forgive +me, but I can scarcely credit it. I know, of course, +that financiers, even those who conduct their operations +on a far lesser scale than Mr. Lawton, frequently seek +loans, but your manner and your speech just now led +me to believe that you had some other motive in doing +what you did for Mr. Lawton. From what you have +told me I gather that it was owing more to your friendship +for him, than to your financial relations, that he +called upon you at that time.”</p> +<p>“And it was to my friendship at that time that he +appealed, Mr. Hamilton.”</p> +<p>“Appealed? I cannot imagine Pennington Lawton +appealing to any man. Why should he appeal to you?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87' name='page_87'></a>87</span></div> +<p>“Because, my dear boy, he was in a mighty bad fix +when he had need to call upon me. Oh, by the way, I +have the letter here in my safe––I found it only the +other day.”</p> +<p>“The letter? What letter?”</p> +<p>“The letter Mr. Lawton wrote me from Long Bay +asking me to get Mr. Moore’s help in the matter––here +it is.”</p> +<p>Mallowe went to his safe, and opening it, withdrew +from an inner drawer a paper which he presented to the +young lawyer. After a cursory examination Ramon +placed it upon the desk before him, and turning to Mr. +Mallowe said:</p> +<p>“I am awfully sorry to have annoyed you with this +matter, but you understand exactly how Miss Lawton +and I feel about it––”</p> +<p>“Of course, Mr. Hamilton, I realize the situation +fully. I am glad to have had this opportunity to explain +to you how the matter stood as far as I personally +was concerned. You know I will do anything that I +can for Miss Lawton and I trust that you will call upon +me.”</p> +<p>He rose with ponderous significance as if to state +tacitly that the interview was at an end, but the younger +man did not stir from his chair.</p> +<p>“This letter came to you––when did you say, Mr. +Mallowe?”</p> +<p>“When Pennington Lawton and his daughter were +at The Breakers at Long Bay, about two years ago last +August, as nearly as I can remember.”</p> +<p>“If you still had the envelope, we could obtain the +exact date from the postmark,” Ramon suggested significantly. +“The letter I see is only headed ‘Saturday.’”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88' name='page_88'></a>88</span></div> +<p>“Yes, it is unfortunate that I did not keep it,” the +magnate retorted a little drily. “It was by the merest, +most fortunate chance that the letter itself came to light. +However, I cannot see at this late date what difference +it could possibly make when the letter was mailed, since +it establishes beyond any possibility of doubt the fact +that it <i>was</i> mailed. As to the matter of the negotiation +of the loan, I would prefer that you apply to Mr. Moore +himself for the particulars concerning it. I am sure +that he will be quite as glad as I have been to give you +such definite information as he possesses.”</p> +<p>This time the dismissal could not be ignored, and +Ramon Hamilton took his departure, but not before he +had marked well the particular drawer within the safe +from which the letter had been taken.</p> +<p>As he went down the corridor, a saucy, red-cheeked +young woman with business briskness in her manner +came from an inner office and smiled boldly at him. She +was Loretta Murfree, the new filing clerk who had been +installed only that morning in Mr. Mallowe’s office.</p> +<p>Had Ramon known her to be the protégée of Anita +Lawton and the spy of Henry Blaine, he might have +glanced at her a second time.</p> +<p>The young man proceeded straight to the offices of +Charlton Moore, the banker, and found that an interview +was readily granted him. Mr. Moore remembered +the incident of the loan, and his private accounts showed +that it had been made on the sixteenth of August two +years previously.</p> +<p>“Mr. Mallowe arranged the matter with you for Mr. +Lawton, did he not?” Ramon asked.</p> +<p>“Yes, it was a purely confidential affair. Mr. Carlis +came with him to interview me. They did not at first +tell me that Mr. Lawton positively desired the loan, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89' name='page_89'></a>89</span> +but they made tentative arrangements asking if I would +be in a position to give it to him should he desire it, and +they said they came to me at this early date desiring to +make no definite statement. Mr. Lawton had told them +that once before I had accommodated him by carrying a +note confidentially at his request. Of course I did not +care to commit myself, as you can readily understand, +Mr. Hamilton, until I was assured the proposition was +bona fide.</p> +<p>“Mr. Mallowe and Mr. Carlis suggested that I call +Mr. Lawton up on the private wire in his office, but the +matter was so delicate that as long as he had not come +to me in person I did not care to telephone him. Mr. +Mallowe showed me a letter which he had recently received +from Pennington Lawton corroborating his statement. +But in the matter of the amount desired we could +not definitely distinguish the figures. Mr. Mallowe was +sure that it was three hundred and fifty thousand dollars. +Mr. Carlis was equally certain that it was three +hundred and eighty-five thousand. To make certain +of the matter they called Mr. Lawton up from my office +here in my presence, and he stated that the sum desired +was three hundred and fifty thousand dollars. +There was only one odd thing about the entire transaction, +and that was a remark Mr. Mallowe made as he +was leaving. After the negotiations had been completed +he turned and said, ‘You understand, Mr. Moore, +that Mr. Lawton is so careful, so secretive, that he does +not wish this matter ever mentioned to him personally, +even if you think yourself absolutely alone with him.’”</p> +<p>“Mr. Lawton was a very peculiar man in many ways,” +Ramon said meditatively. “His methods of conducting +his affairs were not always easily understood. The +negotiations were then completed shortly thereafter?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90' name='page_90'></a>90</span></div> +<p>“Yes, within a few days. I turned the amount required +over to Mr. Mallowe and Mr. Carlis, and accepted +Mr. Lawton’s note. I will show it to you if you +care to see it.”</p> +<p>“That will not be necessary, Mr. Moore, but I am +going to make a request that may seem very strange to +you. Should it be necessary, would you be willing to +show that note to some one whom I may bring here to +you––some one who may prefer not to see you personally, +but merely to be permitted to examine the note +in the presence of some responsible people of your own +choosing?”</p> +<p>“Certainly, Mr. Hamilton. I think I can safely +promise that. But what does it mean––is there anything +wrong with Pennington Lawton’s note?”</p> +<p>“Not that I am aware of, Mr. Moore,” Ramon answered, +laughing rather shortly. “I am unable to explain +just now, but I think the name of Pennington +Lawton carries with it a sufficient guarantee that the +note will be honored when it is presented.”</p> +<p>An hour later, at the close of the busiest day he had +experienced since his graduation from the law school, +young Hamilton presented himself at Henry Blaine’s +office. The detective listened in silence to his story, and +at its conclusion remarked quietly: “You did well, +Mr. Hamilton. I am going to call one of my operatives +and ask you to repeat to him in detail the location of +that safe in Mallowe’s office and the drawer which contains +Mr. Lawton’s letter from Long Bay.”</p> +<p>“Anyone would think you meant to steal it, Mr. +Blaine.”</p> +<p>Young Hamilton’s laugh was now unrestrained. +“There couldn’t possibly be anything wrong with the +note or the entire transaction. Mr. Moore proved that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91' name='page_91'></a>91</span> +when he told me how Mr. Mallowe and Carlis called up +Mr. Lawton in his presence on his private wire and discussed +the negotiations.”</p> +<p>“Are you sure that they did, Mr. Hamilton?” The +detective suddenly leaned forward across his desk, his +body tense, his eyes alight with fervid animation. “Are +you sure Pennington Lawton ever received that message?”</p> +<p>“He must have. According to Mr. Moore, the two +men used Mr. Lawton’s private wire, the number of +which was known only to a few of his closest intimates +and which of course was not listed.”</p> +<p>“But some one who knew that the telephone message +was coming might readily have been in Lawton’s office +seated at his desk, alone, and replied to it in the financier’s +name. Do you understand, Mr. Hamilton? The +note may be a forgery, the letter may be a forgery; that +we shall soon know. If it is, and the money so obtained +from Moore has been converted to the use of the three +confederates whom we suspect to have formed a conspiracy +to ruin Miss Lawton, then her father’s entire +fortune might have been seized upon in virtually the +same way.”</p> +<p>Henry Blaine rose and paced back and forth as if almost +oblivious of the other’s presence. “The mortgage +of his was forged––we have proved that,” he +continued. “Why, then, should not every other available +security have been stolen in practically the same +way?” he continued.</p> +<p>“But how would anyone dare? The whole thing is +too bare-faced,” Ramon expostulated. “A man like +Mr. Moore could not have been imposed upon by a mere +forgery.”</p> +<p>“But if that note proves to be a forgery, Mr. Hamilton, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92' name='page_92'></a>92</span> +and the letter as well––we shall have picked up a +tangible clue at last. I think I am beginning to see daylight.”</p> +<p>Late that night in the huge suite of offices of President +Mallowe of the Street Railways, a very curious +scene took place. The stolid watchman who had been +on uneventful duty there for twenty years had made his +rounds for the last time. With superb nonchalance, he +settled himself for his accustomed nap in his employer’s +chair. From the stillness and gloom of the semi-deserted +office-building two stealthy figures descended +swiftly upon him, their feet sinking noiselessly into the +rich pile of the rugs. A short, silent struggle, a cloth +saturated with chloroform pressed heavily over his face, +and the guardian of the premises lay inert. The +shorter, more stocky of the two nocturnal visitors, without +more ado switched on a pocket electric light and +made a hasty but thorough survey of the room. The +taller one shrank back inadvertently from the drug-stilled +body in the chair, then resolutely turned and knelt +beside his companion before the safe. He dreaded to +think of what discovery might mean. If he, Ramon +Hamilton, were to be caught in the act of burglarizing, +his career as a rising young lawyer would be at an end. +The risk indeed was great, but he had promised Henry +Blaine every aid in his power to help the girl he loved.</p> +<p>After a minute examination, the operative proceeded +to work upon the massive safe door. With the cunning +of a <i>Jimmy Valentine</i> he manipulated the tumblers. +Ramon Hamilton, his discomfiture forgotten, watched +with breathless interest while the keen, sensitive fingers +performed their task. Soon the great doors swung +noiselessly back and the manifold compartments within +were revealed.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93' name='page_93'></a>93</span></div> +<p>The young lawyer pointed out the drawer from which +he had seen President Mallowe remove the letter that +morning, and it, too, yielded quickly to the master-touch +of the expert. There, on the very top of a pile of +papers, lay the written page they sought.</p> +<p>“He’ll be all right. We haven’t done for him, have +we?” Ramon Hamilton whispered anxiously, pointing to +the watchman’s unconscious form, as, their mission accomplished, +they stole from the room.</p> +<p>“Surest thing you know. He’ll come to in half an +hour, none the worse,” the operative responded. “We +made a good clean job of it.”</p> +<p>Henry Blaine could hardly suppress his elation when +they laid the letter before him on their return to his +office.</p> +<p>“It’s a forgery, just as I suspected,” he exclaimed, +with supreme satisfaction. “Look, Hamilton; I’ll +show you how it was done.”</p> +<p>“It is incredible. I can scarcely believe it. I know +Pennington Lawton’s handwriting as well as I know my +own, and I could swear that his fingers guided the pen. +His writing was as distinctive as his character.”</p> +<p>“It’s that very fact,” the detective returned, “which +would have made it easier to copy; but, as it happens, +you are partially right. This was not a forgery in the +ordinary sense. Those are Pennington Lawton’s own +words before you, in his own handwriting.”</p> +<p>“Then how––” the young lawyer inquired, in a bewildered +tone.</p> +<p>Henry Blaine smiled.</p> +<p>“You do not intend to specialize in criminal law, do +you, Mr. Hamilton?” he remarked whimsically. “If +you do, you will have to be up in the latest tricks of the +trade. The man who forged this letter––the same man, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94' name='page_94'></a>94</span> +by the way, forged the signature on that mortgage––accomplished +it like this: He took a bundle of Mr. +Lawton’s old letters, cut out the actual words he desired, +and pasted ’em in their proper order on the letter +paper. Then he photographed this composite, and +electrotyped it––that is, transferred it to a copperplate, +and etched it. Then he re-photographed it, and +in this way got an actual photograph of a supposedly +authentic communication. There is only one man in +this country who is capable of such perfect work. I +know who that man is and where to find him.”</p> +<p>“Then if you can locate him before he skips, and +make him talk, you will have won the victory,” Ramon +exclaimed, jubilantly.</p> +<p>But the detective shook his head.</p> +<p>“The time is not yet ripe for that. The man is, in +my estimation, a mere tool in the hands of the men higher +up. He may not be able to give us any actual proof +against them, and our exposure of him will only tip +them off––put ’em on their guard. We needn’t show +our hand just yet.”</p> +<p>“What’s the next move to be, then?” the young +lawyer asked. “I don’t mean, of course, that I wish +to inquire into your methods of handling the case––but +have you any further commissions for me?”</p> +<p>“Only to accompany me to-morrow morning to the +office of Charlton Moore and let me examine that note +which Mr. Lawton presumably gave two years ago. +Afterward, I have four little amateur detectives of mine +to interview––then I think we’ll be able to proceed +straight to our goal.”</p> +<p>The note also, as Henry Blaine had predicted, proved +to be a forgery and to have been executed by the same +hand as the letter.</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_3' id='linki_3'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-094.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 426px; height: 315px;' /><br /> +<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center; width: 426px;'> +With the cunning of a Jimmy Valentine he manipulated the tumblers. Ramon Hamilton, his discomfiture forgotten, watched with breathless interest.<br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95' name='page_95'></a>95</span></div> +<p>The detective betrayed to the unsuspecting banker +no sign of his elation at the discovery, but following +their interview he returned to his office and sent for the +four young girls whom he had taken from the Anita +Lawton Club and installed in the offices of the men he +suspected.</p> +<p>The first to respond was Margaret Hefferman, who +had been sent as stenographer to Rockamore, the promoter.</p> +<p>“You followed my instructions, Miss Hefferman,” +asked Blaine. “You kept a list for me of Mr. Rockamore’s +visitors?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir. I have it here in my bag. I also brought +carbon copies of two letters which Mr. Rockamore dictated +and which I thought might have some bearing on +the matter in which you are interested––although I +could not quite understand them myself.”</p> +<p>“Let me see them, please.”</p> +<p>Blaine took the documents and list of names, scanning +them quickly and sharply with a practised eye. +The names were those of the biggest men in the city––bankers, +brokers, financiers and promoters. Among +them, that of President Mallowe and Timothy Carlis +appeared frequently. At only one did Henry Blaine +pause––at that of Mark Paddington. He had known +the man as an employee of a somewhat shady private +detective agency several years before and had heard +that he had later been connected in some capacity with +the city police, but had never come into actual contact +with him.</p> +<p>What business could a detective of his caliber have to +do with Bertrand Rockamore?</p> +<p>The letters were short and cryptic in their meaning, +and significant only when connected with those to whom +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96' name='page_96'></a>96</span> +they were addressed. The first was to Timothy Carlis; +it read:</p> +<div style="font-size:0.9em; margin: auto 3em;"> +<p>Your communication received. We must proceed with the utmost +care in this matter. Keep me advised of any further contingencies +which may arise. P. should know or be able to find +out. The affair is to his interests as much as ours.</p> +<p style='margin-left:0.0em; margin-right:0.0em; text-align:right'><span style='margin-right: 0.78125em;'>B. R.</span><br /></p> +</div> +<p>The second was addressed to Paddington:</p> +<div style="font-size:0.9em; margin: auto 3em;"> +<p>Have learned from C. that your assistants are under espionage. +What does it mean? Learn all particulars at once and advise.</p> +<p style='margin-left:0.0em; margin-right:0.0em; text-align:right'><span style='margin-right: 0.78125em;'>R.</span><br /></p> +</div> +<p>“You have done well, Miss Hefferman,” said Blaine +as he looked up from the last of the letters. “I will +keep these carbon copies and the list. Let me know how +often Mr. Mallowe and Timothy Carlis call, and try +particularly to overhear as much as possible of the man +Paddington’s conversation when he appears.”</p> +<p>When the young stenographer had departed, Fifine +<a name='TC_3'></a><ins title="Was ''Déchausée'' in the original text">Déchaussée</ins> appeared. She was the governess who had +been sent to the home of Doctor Franklin, ostensibly to +care for his children, but in reality to find, if possible, +what connection existed between Carlis, Mallowe, Rockamore +and himself. The young Frenchwoman’s report +was disappointingly lacking in any definite result––save +one fact. The man Paddington had called twice +upon the minister, remaining the second time closeted +with him in his study for more than an hour. Later, he +had intercepted her when she was out with the children +in the park; but she had eluded his attentions.</p> +<p>“I wish you hadn’t done so. If he makes any further +attempt to talk with you, Mademoiselle <a name='TC_4'></a><ins title="Was ''Déchausée'' in the original text">Déchaussée</ins>, +encourage him, draw him out. If he tries to question +you about yourself and where you came from, don’t mention +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97' name='page_97'></a>97</span> +the Anita Lawton Club, but remember his questions +carefully and come and tell me.”</p> +<p>“Certainly, m’sieur, I shall remember.”</p> +<p>Agnes Olson and Laurette Murfree, the switchboard +operator to Carlis and filing clerk to Mallowe, respectively, +added practically the same information as had the +two preceding girls. Mark Paddington, the detective, +had been in frequent communication with each of their +employers. When the young women had concluded their +reports and gone, Blaine telephoned at once to Guy +Morrow, his right-hand operative, and instructed him +to watch for Paddington’s appearance in the neighborhood +of the little house in the Bronx, where they had located +Brunell, the one-time forger.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98' name='page_98'></a>98</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VIII_GUY_MORROW_FACES_A_PROBLEM' id='CHAPTER_VIII_GUY_MORROW_FACES_A_PROBLEM'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> +<h3>GUY MORROW FACES A PROBLEM</h3> +</div> +<p class="dropcap" ><span class="dcap">Morrow,</span> meanwhile, had slowly become aware +that he had a problem of his own to face, the +biggest of his life. Should he go on with his +work? In the event that James Brunell proved, indeed, +to be guilty of the forgeries of which he was suspected +by the Master Mind, it would mean that he, Morrow, +would have betrayed the father of the girl he felt himself +beginning to care for. Dared he face such a tremendous +issue?</p> +<p>His acquaintance with Emily Brunell had progressed +rapidly in the few days since his subterfuge had permitted +him to speak to her. He had met her father and +found himself liking the tall, silent man who went about +the simple affairs of his life with such compelling dignity +and courteous aloofness. Brunell had even invited him +to his little shop and shown him with unsuspecting enthusiasm +his process for making the maps which were +sold to the public schools.</p> +<p>Morrow had seen no evidence of anything wrong, +either in the little shop or the home life of the father and +daughter; nor had he observed Paddington––who was +well known to him––in the neighborhood.</p> +<p>Even in these few mornings it had become a habit with +him to watch for Emily and walk with her to her subway +station, and as frequently as he dared, he would await +her arrival in the evening. After his last telephone +conversation with Blaine, he called upon the two in the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99' name='page_99'></a>99</span> +little house across the way, determined to find out, if +possible, if the man Paddington had come into their lives. +He felt instinctively that James Brunell would prove a +difficult subject to cross-examine. The man seemed to +be complete master of himself, and were he guilty, could +never be led into an admission, unless some influence +more powerful than force could be brought to bear upon +him.</p> +<p>But the girl, with her clear eyes and unsuspecting, inexperienced +mind, could easily be led to disclose whatever +knowledge she possessed, particularly if her interest +or affections were aroused. It seemed cowardly, in +view of his newly awakened feelings toward her, but he +had committed far more unscrupulous acts without a +qualm, in the course of his professional work.</p> +<p>Brunell was out when he called, but Emily led him +into the little sitting-room, and for a time they talked +in a desultory fashion. Morrow, who had brought so +many malefactors to justice by the winning snare of his +personality, felt for once at a loss as to how to commence +his questioning.</p> +<p>But the girl herself, guilelessly, gave him a lead by +beginning, quite of her own accord, to talk of her early +life.</p> +<p>“It seems so strange,” she remarked, confidingly, “to +have been so completely alone all of my life––except +for Daddy, of course.”</p> +<p>“You have no brothers or sisters, Miss Brunell?” +asked the detective.</p> +<p>“None––and I never knew my mother. She died +when I was born.”</p> +<p>Morrow sighed, and involuntarily his hand reached +forward in an expression of complete sympathy.</p> +<p>“Daddy has been mother and father to me,” the girl +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100' name='page_100'></a>100</span> +went on impulsively. “We have always lived in this +neighborhood, ever since I can remember, and of course +we know everyone around here. But with my downtown +position and Father’s work in the shop, we’ve had +no time to make real friends and we haven’t even cared +to––before.”</p> +<p>“Before when?” he asked with a kindly intonation +not at all in keeping with the purpose which had actuated +him in seeking her friendship.</p> +<p>“Before you brought my kitten back to me.” She +paused, suddenly confused and shy, then added hurriedly, +“We have so few guests, you know. Daddy, +somehow, doesn’t care for people––as a rule, that is. +I’m awfully glad that he has made an exception with +you.”</p> +<p>“But surely you have other friends––for instance, +that young fellow I’ve noticed now and again when he +called upon you.”</p> +<p>Morrow’s thoughts had suddenly turned to that unknown +visitor toward whom he had taken such an unaccountable +dislike.</p> +<p>“Young fellow––what young fellow?” Emily +Brunell’s voice had changed, slightly, and a reserved +little note intruded itself which reminded Morrow all +at once of her father.</p> +<p>“I don’t know who he is––I’m such a newcomer in +the neighborhood, you know; but I happened to see him +from my window across the way––a short, dapper-looking +young chap with a small, dark mustache.”</p> +<p>“Oh! <i>that</i> man.” Her lip curled disdainfully. +“That’s Charley Pennold. He’s no friend of mine. +He just comes to see Father now and again on business. +I don’t bother to talk to him. I don’t think Daddy likes +him very much, either.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101' name='page_101'></a>101</span></div> +<p>She caught her breath in sharply as she spoke, and +looked away from Morrow in sudden reserve. He felt a +quick start of suspicion, and searched her averted face +with a keen, penetrating glance.</p> +<p>If this Charley Pennold, whoever he might be, wished +to see James Brunell on legitimate business, why did he +not go to his shop openly and above-board in the day-time? +Could he be an emissary from some one whom +the old forger had reason to evade? If he were, did +Emily know for what purpose he came, and was she +annoyed at her own error in involuntarily disclosing his +name?</p> +<p>“He is a map-maker, too?” leaped from Morrow’s +lips.</p> +<p>“He is interested in maps––he gives Daddy large +orders for them, I believe.”</p> +<p>Emily spoke too hurriedly, and her tones lacked the +ring of sincerity which was habitual with them.</p> +<p>The trained ear of the detective instantly sensed the +difference, and his heart sank.</p> +<p>So she had lied to him deliberately, and her womanly +instinct told her that he knew it.</p> +<p>She began to talk confusedly of trivialities; and Morrow, +seeing that it would be hopeless to attempt to draw +her back to her unguarded mood, left her soon after––heartsick +and dejected.</p> +<p>Should he continue with his investigations, or go to +Henry Blaine and confess that he had failed him? Was +this girl, charming and innocent as she appeared, worth +the price of his career––this girl with the blood of criminals +in her veins, who would stoop to lies and deceit to +protect them? Yet had not he been seeking deliberately +to betray her and those she loved, under the guise of +friendship? Was he any better than she or her father?</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102' name='page_102'></a>102</span></div> +<p>Then, too, another thought came to him. Might she +not be the tool, consciously or unconsciously, of a nefarious +plot?</p> +<p>He felt that he could not rest until he had brought his +investigations to a conclusion which would be satisfactory +to himself, even if he decided in the end, for her +sake, never to divulge to Henry Blaine the discoveries he +might make.</p> +<p>A few days later, however, Morrow received instructions +from Blaine himself, which forced his hand. The +time had come for him to use the skeleton-key which he +had had made. He must proceed that night to investigate +the little shop of the map-maker and look there +for the evidence which would incriminate him––the photographic +and electrotyping apparatus.</p> +<p>Early in the evening he heard Emily’s soft voice as +she called across the street in pleasant greeting to Miss +Quinlan, but he could not bring himself to go out upon +the little porch and speak to her, although he did not +doubt his welcome.</p> +<p>He waited until all was dark and still before he +started upon his distasteful errand. It was very cold, +and the streets were deserted. A fine dry snow was falling, +which obliterated his footprints almost as soon as he +made them, and he reached the now familiar door of the +little shop without meeting a soul abroad save a lonely +policeman dozing in a doorway. He let himself into +the shop with his key and flashed his pocket lamp about. +All appeared the same as in the day-time. The maps +were rolled in neat cases or fastened upon the wall. +The table, the press, the binder were each in their proper +place.</p> +<p>Morrow went carefully over every inch of the room +and the curtained recess back of it, but could find no evidence +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103' name='page_103'></a>103</span> +such as he sought. At length, however, just +before the little desk in the corner where James Brunell +kept his modest accounts, the detective’s foot touched a +metal ring in the floor. Stepping back from it, he seized +the ring and pulled it. A small square section of the +flooring yielded, and the raising of the narrow trap-door +disclosed a worn, sanded stone stairway leading down +into the cellar beneath.</p> +<p>Blaine’s operative listened carefully but no sound +came from the depths below him; so after a time, with his +light carefully shielded, he essayed a gingerly descent. +On the bottom step he paused. There was small need +for him to go further. He had found what he sought. +Emily Brunell’s father was a forger indeed!</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104' name='page_104'></a>104</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_IX_GONE' id='CHAPTER_IX_GONE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> +<h3>GONE!</h3> +</div> +<p class="dropcap" ><span class="dcap">Guy Morrow,</span> after a sleepless night, presented +himself at Henry Blaine’s office the next morning. +The great detective, observing his young +subordinate with shrewd, kindly eyes, noted in one swift +glance his changed demeanor: his pallor, and the new +lines graven about the firm mouth, which added strength +and maturity to his face. If he guessed the reason for +the metamorphosis, Blaine gave no sign, but listened +without comment until Morrow had completed his report.</p> +<p>“You obeyed my instructions?” he asked at length. +“When you discovered the forgery outfit in the cellar +of Brunell’s shop, you left everything just as it had been––left +no possible trace of your presence?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir. There’s not a sign left to show any one +had disturbed the place. I am sure of that.”</p> +<p>“Not a foot-print in the earth of the cellar steps?”</p> +<p>“No, sir.”</p> +<p>“And the outfit––was there any evidence it had been +used lately?”</p> +<p>“No––everything was dust-covered, and even rusty, +as if it had not even been touched in months, perhaps +years. The whole thing might be merely a relic of +Jimmy Brunell’s past performances, in the life he gave +up long ago.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105' name='page_105'></a>105</span></div> +<p>Morrow spoke almost eagerly, as if momentarily off +his guard, but Blaine shook his head.</p> +<p>“Rather too dangerous a relic to keep in one’s possession, +Guy, simply as a souvenir––a reminder of +things the man is trying to forget, to live down. You +can depend on it: the outfit was there for some more +practical purpose. You say Paddington has not appeared +in the neighborhood, but another man has––a +man Brunell’s daughter seems to dislike and fear?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir. There’s one significant fact about him, +too––his name. He’s Charley Pennold. It didn’t +occur to me for some time after Miss Brunell let that +slip, that the name is the same as that of the precious +pair of old crooks over in Brooklyn, the ones Suraci and +I traced Brunell by.”</p> +<p>“Charley Pennold!” Blaine repeated thoughtfully. +“I hadn’t thought of him. He’s old Walter Pennold’s +nephew. The boy was running straight the last I heard +of him, but you never can tell. Guy, I’m going to take +you off the Brunell trail for a while, and put you on this +man Paddington. I’ll have Suraci look up Charley +Pennold and get a line on him. In the meantime, leave +your key to the map-making shop with me. I may want +to have a look at that forgery outfit myself.”</p> +<p>“You’re going to take me off the Brunell trail!” +Morrow’s astonishment and obvious distaste for the +change of program confronting him was all-revealing. +“But I’ll have to go back and make some sort of explanation +for leaving so abruptly, won’t I? Will it pay +to arouse their suspicions––that is, sir, unless you’ve +got some special reason for doing so?”</p> +<p>Blaine’s slow smile was very kindly and sympathetic +as he eyed the anxious young man before him.</p> +<p>“No. You will go back, of course, and explain that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106' name='page_106'></a>106</span> +you have obtained a clerkship which necessitates your +moving downtown. Make your peace with Miss Brunell +if you like, but remember, Guy, don’t mix sentiment and +business. It won’t do. I may have to put you back on +the job there in a few days, and I know I can depend on +you not to lose your head. She’s a young girl and a +pretty one; but don’t forget she’s the daughter of +Jimmy Brunell, the man we’re trying to get! Pennington +Lawton had a daughter, too; remember that––and +she’s been defrauded of everything in the world but her +lover and her faith in her father’s memory.” His voice +had gradually grown deeper and more stern, and he +added in brisk, businesslike tones, far removed from the +personal element. “Now get back to the Bronx. +Come to me to-morrow morning, and I’ll have the data +in the Paddington matter ready for you.”</p> +<p>The young detective had scarcely taken his departure, +when Ramon Hamilton appeared. He was in some excitement, +and glanced nervously behind him as he entered, +as if almost in fear of possible pursuit.</p> +<p>“Mr. Blaine,” he began, “I’m confident that we’re +suspected. Here’s a note that came to me from President +Mallowe this morning. He asks if I inadvertently +carried away with me that letter of Pennington Lawton’s +written from Long Bay two years ago, in which I had +shown such an interest during our interview the other +day. He has been unable to find it since my departure. +That’s a rather broad hint, it seems to me.”</p> +<p>“I should not consider it as such,” the detective responded. +“Guilty conscience, Mr. Hamilton!”</p> +<p>“That’s not all!” the young lawyer went on. “He +says that a curious burglary was committed at his offices +the night after my interview with him––his watchman +was chloroformed, and the safe in his private office +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107' name='page_107'></a>107</span> +opened and rifled, yet nothing was taken, with the possible +exception of that letter. Mallowe asks me, openly, +if I knew of an ulterior motive which any one might have +possessed in acquiring it, and even remarks that he is +thinking of putting you, Mr. Blaine, on the mysterious +attempt at robbery. That would be a joke, wouldn’t it, +if it wasn’t really, in my estimation at least, a covert +threat. Why should he, Mallowe, take me into his confidence +about an affair which took place in his private +office? He did not make the excuse of pretending to +retain me as his attorney. I think he was merely warning +me that he was suspicious of me.”</p> +<p>“Probably a mere coincidence,” Blaine observed +easily.</p> +<p>“I wonder if you’ll think so when I tell you that twice +since yesterday my life has been attempted.” Ramon +spoke quietly enough, but there was a slight trembling +in his tones.</p> +<p>“What!” Blaine started forward in his chair, then +sank back with an incredulous smile, which none but he +could have known was forced. “Surely you imagine it, +Mr. Hamilton. Since your automobile accident, when +you were run down and so nearly killed on the evening +you sent for me to undertake Miss Lawton’s case, you +may well be nervous.”</p> +<p>As he spoke he glanced at the other’s broken arm, +which was still swathed in bandages.</p> +<p>“But these were no accidents, Mr. Blaine, and I have +always doubted that the first one was, as you know. +Yesterday afternoon, a new client’s case called me down +to the sixth ward, at four o’clock. In order to reach +my client’s address it was necessary to pass through the +street in which that shooting affray occurred which filled +the papers last evening. Two men darted out of a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108' name='page_108'></a>108</span> +house, shot presumably at each other, then turned and +ran in opposite directions without waiting to see if either +of the shots took effect. You know that isn’t usual +with the members of rival gangs down there. Remember, +too, Mr. Blaine, that it was prearranged for me to +walk alone through that street at just that psychological +moment. It seemed to me that neither man shot at +the other, but both fired point-blank at me. I dismissed +the idea from my mind as absurd, the next minute, and +would have thought no more about it, beyond congratulating +myself on my fortunate escape, had not the second +attempt been made.”</p> +<p>“The sixth ward––” Blaine remarked, meditatively. +“That’s Timothy Carlis’ stamping ground, of course. +But go on, Mr. Hamilton. What was the second incident?”</p> +<p>“Late last night, I had a telephone message from my +club that my best friend, Gordon Brooke, had been taken +suddenly ill with a serious attack of heart-trouble, and +wanted me. Brooke has heart-disease and he might go +off with it at any time, so I posted over immediately. +The club is only a few blocks away from my home, so +I didn’t wait to call my machine or a taxi, but started +over. Just a little way from the club, three men sprang +upon me and attempted to hold me up. I fought them +off, and when they came at me again, three to one, the +idea flashed upon me that this was a fresh attempt to +assassinate me.</p> +<p>“I shouted for help, and then ran. When I reached +the club I found Brooke there, sitting in a poker game +and quite as well as usual. No telephone message had +been sent to me from him. I tried this morning, before +I came to you, to have the number traced, but without +success. Do you blame me now, Mr. Blaine, for believing, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109' name='page_109'></a>109</span> +after these three manifestations, that my life is in +actual danger?”</p> +<p>“I do not.” The detective touched an electric button +on his desk. “I think it will be advisable for you +to have a guard, for the next few days, at least.”</p> +<p>“A guard!” Ramon repeated, indignantly. “I’m +not a coward. Any man would be disturbed, to put it +mildly, over the conviction that his life was threatened +every hour, but it was of her I was thinking––of Anita! +I could not bear to think of leaving her alone to face the +world, penniless and hedged in on all sides by enemies. +But I want no guard! I can take care of myself as +well as the next man. Look at the perils and dangers +you have faced in your unceasing warfare against malefactors +of every grade. It is common knowledge that +you have invariably refused to be guarded.”</p> +<p>“The years during which I have been constantly face +to face with sudden death have made me disregard the +possibility of it. But I shall not insist in your case, +Mr. Hamilton, if you do not wish it; and allow me to tell +you that I admire your spirit. However, I should like +to have you leave town for a few days, if your clients +can spare you.”</p> +<p>“Leave town? Run away?” Ramon started indignantly +from his chair, but Blaine waved him back with +a fatherly hand.</p> +<p>“Not at all. On a commission for me, in Miss Lawton’s +interests. Mr. Hamilton, you have known the +Lawtons for several years, have you not?”</p> +<p>“Ever since I can remember,” the young lawyer said +with renewed eagerness.</p> +<p>“Two years ago, in August, Pennington Lawton and +his daughter were at ‘The Breakers,’ at Long Bay, were +they not?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110' name='page_110'></a>110</span></div> +<p>“Yes. Anita and I were engaged then, and I ran out +myself for the week-end.”</p> +<p>“I want you to run out there for me now. The hotel +will be closed at this time of year, of course, but a letter +which I will give you to the proprietor, who lives close +at hand, will enable you to look over the register for an +hour or two in private. Turn to the arrivals for +August of that year, and trace the names and home addresses +on each page; then bring it back to me.”</p> +<p>“Is it something in connection with that forged letter +to Mallowe?” asked Ramon quickly.</p> +<p>“Perhaps,” the detective admitted. He shrugged, +then added leniently, “I think, before proceeding any +further with that branch of the investigation, it would +be well to know who obtained the notepaper with the +hotel letterhead, and if the paper itself was genuine. +Bring me back some of the hotel stationery, also, that +I may compare it with that used for the letter.”</p> +<p>A discreet knock upon the door heralded the coming +of an operative, in response to Blaine’s touch upon the +bell.</p> +<p>“There has been a slight disturbance in the outer +office, sir,” he announced. “A man, who appears to be +demented, insists upon seeing you. He isn’t one of the +ordinary cranks, or we would have dealt with him ourselves. +He says that if you will read this, you will be +glad to assent to an interview with him.”</p> +<p>He presented a card, which Blaine read with every +manifestation of surprised interest.</p> +<p>“Tell him I will see him in five minutes,” he said. +When the operative had withdrawn, the detective turned +to Ramon.</p> +<p>“Who do you think is waiting outside? The man +who threatened Pennington Lawton’s life ten years ago, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111' name='page_111'></a>111</span> +the man whose name was mentioned by the unknown visitor +to the library on the night Lawton met his death: +Herbert Armstrong!”</p> +<p>“Good heavens!” Ramon exclaimed. “What brings +him here now? I thought he had disappeared utterly. +Do you think it could have been he in the library that +night, come to take revenge for that fancied wrong, at +last?”</p> +<p>“That is what I’m going to find out,” the detective +responded, with a touch of grimness in his tones.</p> +<p>“But you don’t mean––it isn’t possible that Mr. +Lawton was murdered! That he didn’t die of heart-disease, +after all!”</p> +<p>“I traced Armstrong to the town where he was living +in obscurity, and followed his movements.” Blaine’s +reply seemed to be purposely irrelevant. “I could not, +however, find where he had been on the night of Mr. Lawton’s +death. Now that he has come to me voluntarily, +we shall discover if the voice Miss Lawton overheard in +that moment when she listened on the stairs, was his or +not.... Come back this afternoon, Mr. Hamilton, and +I will give you full information and instructions about +that Long Bay errand. In the meantime, guard yourself +well from a possible attack, although I do not think +another attempt upon your life will be made so soon. +Take this, and if you have need of it, do not hesitate to +use it. We can afford no half-measures now. Shoot, +and shoot to kill!”</p> +<p>He opened a lower drawer in his massive desk and, +drawing from it a business-like looking revolver of large +caliber, presented it to the lawyer. With a warm hand-clasp +he dismissed him, and, going to the telephone, +called up Anita Lawton’s home.</p> +<p>“I want you to attend carefully, Miss Lawton. I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112' name='page_112'></a>112</span> +am speaking from my office. A man will be here with +me in a few minutes, and I shall seat him close to the +transmitter of my ’phone, leaving the receiver off the +hook. Please listen carefully to his voice. I only wish +you to hear a phrase or two, when I will hang up the +receiver, and call you up later. Try to concentrate +with all your powers, and tell me afterward if you have +ever heard that voice until now; if it is the voice of the +man you did not see, who was in the library with your +father just before he died.”</p> +<p>He heard her give a quick gasp, and then her voice +came to him, low and sweet and steady.</p> +<p>“I will listen carefully, Mr. Blaine, and do my best +to tell you the truth.”</p> +<p>The detective pulled a large leather chair close to the +telephone, and Herbert Armstrong was ushered in.</p> +<p>The man was pitiful in appearance, but scarcely demented, +as the operative had described him. He was +tall and shabbily clothed, gaunt almost to the point of +emaciation, but with no sign of dissipation. His eyes, +though sunken, were clear, and they gazed levelly with +those of the detective.</p> +<p>“Come in, Mr. Armstrong.” Blaine waved genially +toward the arm-chair. “What can I do for you?”</p> +<p>The man did not offer to shake hands, but sank +wearily into the chair assigned him.</p> +<p>“Do? You can stop hounding me, Henry Blaine! +You and Pennington Lawton brought my tragedy upon +me as surely as I brought it upon myself, and now you +will not leave me alone with my grief and ruin, to drag +my miserable life out to the end, but you or your men +must dog my every foot-step, spy upon me, hunt me +down like a pack of wolves! And why? Why?”</p> +<p>The man’s voice had run its gamut, in the emotion +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113' name='page_113'></a>113</span> +which consumed him, and from a menacing growl of protest, +it had risen to a shrill wail of weakness and despair.</p> +<p>Henry Blaine was satisfied.</p> +<p>“Excuse me, Mr. Armstrong,” he said gently. +“The receiver is off my telephone, here at your elbow. +It would be unfortunate if we were overheard. If you +will allow me––”</p> +<p>But he got no further. Quick as he was, the other +man was quicker. He sprang up furiously, and dashed +the telephone off the desk.</p> +<p>“Is this another of your d––d tricks?” he shouted. +“If it is, whoever was listening may hear the rest. You +and Pennington Lawton between you, drove my wife to +suicide, but you’ll not drive <i>me</i> there! I’m ruined, and +broken, and hopeless, but I’ll live on, live till I’m even, +do you hear? Live till I’m square with the game!”</p> +<p>His violence died out as swiftly as it had arisen, and +he sank down in the chair, his face buried in his bony +hands, his thin shoulders shaken with sobs.</p> +<p>Blaine quietly replaced the telephone and receiver, +and seated himself.</p> +<p>“Come, man, pull yourself together!” he said, not +unkindly. “I’m not hounding you; Lawton never +harmed you, and now he is dead. He was my client and +I was bound to protect his interests, but as man to man, +the fault was yours and you know it. I tried to keep +you from making a fool of yourself and wrecking three +lives, but I only succeeded in saving one.”</p> +<p>“But your men are hounding me, following me, shadowing +me! I have come to find out why!”</p> +<p>“And I would like to find out where you were on a +certain night last month––the ninth, to be exact,” responded +Blaine quietly.</p> +<p>“What affair is it of yours?” the other man asked +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114' name='page_114'></a>114</span> +wearily, adding: “How should I know, now? One +night is like another, to me.”</p> +<p>“If you hate Pennington Lawton’s memory as you +seem to, the ninth of November should stand out in your +thoughts in letters of fire,” the detective went on, in +even, quiet tone. “That was the night on which Lawton +died.”</p> +<p>“Lawton?” Herbert Armstrong raised his haggard +face. The meaning of Blaine’s remark utterly +failed to pierce his consciousness. “The date doesn’t +mean anything to me, but I remember the night, if that’s +what you want to know about, although I’m hanged if I +can see what it’s got to do with me! I’ll never forget +that night, because of the news which reached me in the +morning, that my worst enemy on earth had passed +away.”</p> +<p>“Were you in Illington the evening before?” asked +Blaine.</p> +<p>“I was not. I was in New Harbor, where I live, +playing pinochle all night long with two other down-and-outs +like myself, in a cheap hall bed-room––I, Herbert +Armstrong, who used to play for thousands a game, +in the best clubs in Illington! And I never knew that +the man who had brought me to that pass was gasping +his life away! Think of it! We played until dawn, +when the extras, cried in the street below, gave us the +news!”</p> +<p>“If you will give me the address of this boarding-house +you mention, and the names of your two friends, +I can promise that you will be under no further espionage, +Mr. Armstrong.”</p> +<p>“I don’t care whether you know it or not, if that’s all +you want!” The gaunt man shrugged wearily. “I’m +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115' name='page_115'></a>115</span> +tired of being hounded, and I’m too weak and too tired +to oppose you, even if it did matter.”</p> +<p>He gave the required names and addresses, and +slouched away, his animosity gone, and only a dull, miserable +lethargy sagging upon his worn body.</p> +<p>When the outer door of the offices had closed upon +him, Henry Blaine again called up Anita Lawton. This +time her voice came to him sharpened by acute distress.</p> +<p>“I did not recognize the tones of the person’s voice, +Mr. Blaine, only I am quite, quite sure that he was not +the man in the library with my father the night of his +death. But oh, what did he mean by the terrible things +he said? It could not be that my father brought ruin +and tragedy upon any one, much less drove them to suicide. +Won’t you tell me, Mr. Blaine? Ramon won’t, +although I am convinced he knows all about it. I must +know.”</p> +<p>“You shall, Miss Lawton. I think the time has come +when you should no longer be left in the dark. I will +tell Mr. Hamilton when he comes to me this afternoon +for the interview we have arranged that you must know +the whole story.”</p> +<p>But Ramon Hamilton failed to appear for the +promised interview. Henry Blaine called up his office +and his home, but was unable to locate him. Then Miss +Lawton began making anxious inquiries, and finally the +mother of the young lawyer appealed to the detective, +but in vain. Late that night the truth was established +beyond peradventure of a doubt. Ramon Hamilton had +disappeared as if the earth had opened and engulfed +him.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116' name='page_116'></a>116</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_X_MARGARET_HEFFERMANS_FAILURE' id='CHAPTER_X_MARGARET_HEFFERMANS_FAILURE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> +<h3>MARGARET HEFFERMAN’S FAILURE</h3> +</div> +<p class="dropcap" ><span class="dcap">The</span> disappearance of Ramon Hamilton, coming so +soon after the sudden death of his prospective +father-in-law, caused a profound sensation. In +the small hours of the night, before the press had been +apprised of the event and when every probable or possible +place where the young lawyer might be had been +communicated with in vain, Henry Blaine set the perfect +machinery of his forces at work to trace him.</p> +<p>It was dawn before he could spare a precious moment +to go to Anita Lawton. On his arrival he found her +pacing the floor, wringing her slim hands in anguish.</p> +<p>“He is dead.” She spoke with the dull hopelessness +of utter conviction. “I shall never see him again. I +feel it! I know it!”</p> +<p>“My dear child!” Blaine put his hands upon her +shoulders in fatherly compassion. “You must put all +such morbid fancies from your mind. He is not dead +and we shall find him. It may be all a mistake––perhaps +some important matter concerning a client made it +necessary for him to leave the city over night.”</p> +<p>She shook her head despairingly.</p> +<p>“No, Mr. Blaine. You know as well as I that +Ramon is just starting in his profession. He has no +clients of any prominence, and my father’s influence was +really all that his rising reputation was being built +upon. Besides, nothing but a serious accident or––or +death would keep him from me!”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117' name='page_117'></a>117</span></div> +<p>“If he had met with any accident his identity would +have been discovered and we would be notified, unless, as +in the case when he was run down by that motor-car, he +did not wish them to let you know for fear of worrying +you.”</p> +<p>Blaine watched the young girl narrowly as he spoke. +Was she aware of the two additional attempts only the +day before on the life of the man she loved?</p> +<p>“He merely followed a dear, unselfish impulse because +he knew that in a few hours at most he would be with +me; but now it is morning! The dawn of a new day, +and no word from him! Those terrible people who +tried to kill him that other time to keep him from coming +to me in my trouble have made away with him. I am +sure of it now.”</p> +<p>The detective breathed more freely. Evidently Ramon +Hamilton had had the good sense to keep from +her his recent danger.</p> +<p>“You can be sure of nothing, Miss Lawton, save the +fact that Mr. Hamilton is <i>not</i> dead,” Henry Blaine said +earnestly. “You do not realize, perhaps, the one +salient fact that criminal experts who deal with cases +of disappearance have long since recognized––the most +difficult of all things to conceal or do away with in a +large city is a dead body.”</p> +<p>Anita shivered and clasped her hands convulsively, +but she did not speak, and after a scarcely perceptible +pause, the detective went on:</p> +<p>“You must not let your mind dwell on the possibilities; +it will only entail useless, needless suffering on +your part. My experiences have been many and varied +in just such cases as this, and in not one in fifty does +serious harm come to the subject of the investigation. +In fact, in this instance, I think it quite probable that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118' name='page_118'></a>118</span> +Mr. Hamilton has left the city of his own accord, and +in your interests.”</p> +<p>“In my interests?” Anita repeated, roused from her +lethargy of sorrow by his words, as he had intended that +she should be. “Left the city? But why?”</p> +<p>“When he called upon me yesterday morning I told +him of a commission which I wished him to execute for +me in connection with your investigation. I gave him +some preliminary instructions and he was to return to +me in the afternoon for a letter of introduction and to +learn some minor details of the matter involved. He +did not appear at the hour of our appointment and I +concluded that he had taken the affair into his own +hands and had gone immediately upon leaving my office +to fulfill his mission.”</p> +<p>“Oh, perhaps he did!” The young girl started +from her chair, her dull, tearless eyes suddenly bright +with hope. “That would be like Ramon; he is so impulsive, +so anxious to help me in every way! Where +did you send him, Mr. Blaine? Can’t we telephone, or +wire and find out if he really has gone to this place? +Please, please do! I cannot endure this agony of uncertainty, +of suspense, much longer!”</p> +<p>“Unfortunately, we cannot do that!” Blaine responded, +gravely. “To attempt to communicate with +him where I have sent him would be to show our hand +irretrievably to the men we are fighting and undo much +of the work which has been accomplished. He may +communicate with you or possibly with me, if he finds +that he can contrive to accomplish it safely.”</p> +<p>“Safely? Then if he has gone to this place, wherever +it is, he is in danger?” Anita faltered, tremblingly.</p> +<p>“By no means. The only danger is that his identity +and purpose may be disclosed and our plans jeopardized,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119' name='page_119'></a>119</span> +the detective reassured her smoothly. “I know +it is hard to wait for news, but one must school oneself +to patience under circumstances such as this. It may +be several days before you hear from Mr. Hamilton and +you must try not to distress yourself with idle fears in +the meantime.”</p> +<p>“But it is not certain––we have no assurance that +he really did go upon that mission.” The light of hope +died in her eyes as she spoke, and a little sob rose in her +throat. “Oh, Mr. Blaine, promise me that you will +leave no stone unturned to find him!”</p> +<p>“My dear child, you must trust in me and have faith +in my long years of experience. I have already, as a +precautionary measure, started a thorough investigation +into Mr. Hamilton’s movements yesterday, and in +the event that he has not gone on the errand I spoke of, +it can only be a question of hours before he will be located. +You did not see him yesterday?”</p> +<p>“No. He promised to lunch with me, but he never +came nor did he telephone or send me any word. +Surely, if he had meant to leave town he would have let +me know!”</p> +<p>“Not necessarily, Miss Lawton.” Blaine’s voice +deepened persuasively. “He was very much excited +when he left my office, interested heart and soul in the +mission I had entrusted to him. Remember, too, that it +was all for you, for your sake alone.”</p> +<p>“And I may not know where he has gone?” Anita +asked, wistfully.</p> +<p>“I think, perhaps, that is why Mr. Hamilton did not +communicate with you before leaving town,” the detective +replied, significantly. “He agreed with me that it +would be best for you not to know, in your own interests, +where he was going. You must try to believe that I am +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120' name='page_120'></a>120</span> +doing all in my power to help you, and that my judgment +is in such matters better than yours.”</p> +<p>“I do, Mr. Blaine. Indeed I do trust you absolutely; +you must believe that.” She reached out an impulsive +hand toward him, and his own closed over it +paternally for a moment. Then he gently released +it.</p> +<p>Anita sighed and sank back resignedly in her chair. +There was a moment’s pause before she added:</p> +<p>“It is hard to be quiescent when one is so hedged in +on all sides by falsehood and deceit and the very air +breathes conspiracy and intrigue. I have no tangible +reason to fear for my own life, of course, but sometimes +I cannot help wondering why it has not been imperiled. +Surely it would be easier for my father’s enemies to do +away with me altogether than to have conceived and +carried out such an elaborate scheme to rob me and +defame my father’s memory. But I will try not to entertain +such thoughts. I am nervous and overwrought, +but I will regain my self-control. In the meantime, I +shall do my best to be patient and wait for Ramon’s +return.”</p> +<p>Henry Blaine felt a glow of pardonable elation, but +his usually expressive face did not betray by a single +flicker of an eyelash that he had gained his point. He +knew that Ramon Hamilton had never started on that +mission to Long Bay, but if the young girl’s health and +reason were to be spared, her anxiety must be allayed. +Courageous and self-controlled as she had been through +all the grief and added trouble which besieged her on +every hand, the keen insight of the detective warned him +that she was nearing the breaking-point. If she fully +realized the blow which threatened her in the sudden disappearance +of her lover, together with the sinister events +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121' name='page_121'></a>121</span> +which had immediately preceded it, she would be crushed +to the earth.</p> +<p>“You must try to rest.” Blaine rose and motioned +toward the window through which the cold rays of the +wintry sun were stealing and putting the orange glow +of the electric lights to shame. “See. It is morning +and you have had no sleep.”</p> +<p>“But you must not go just yet, Mr. Blaine! I cannot +rest until I know who that man was whose voice I +heard over your telephone this morning. What did +he mean? He said that his wife committed suicide; that +he himself had been ruined! And all through my father +and you! It cannot be true, of course; but I must +know to what he referred!”</p> +<p>“I will tell you. It is best that you should know the +truth. Your father was absolutely innocent in the +matter, but his enemies and yours might find it expedient +to spread fake reports which would only add to your +sorrow. You know, you must remember since your +earliest childhood, how every one came to your father +with their perplexities and troubles and how benevolently +they were received, how wisely advised, how generously +aided. Not only bankers and financiers in the +throes of a panic, but men and women in all walks of +life came to him for counsel and relief.”</p> +<p>“I know. I know!” Anita whispered with bowed +head, the quick tears of tender memory starting in her +eyes.</p> +<p>“Such a one who came to him for advice in her distress +was the wife of Herbert Armstrong. She was a +good woman, but through sheer ignorance of evil she +had committed a slight indiscretion, nothing more than +the best of women might be led into at any time. We +need not go into details. It is enough to tell you that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122' name='page_122'></a>122</span> +certain unscrupulous persons had her in their power +and were blackmailing her. She fell their victim +through the terror of being misunderstood, and when +she could no longer accede to their demands she came to +your father, her husband’s friend, for advice. Herbert +Armstrong was insanely jealous of his wife, and in your +father’s efforts to help her he unfortunately incurred +the unjust suspicions of the man. Armstrong brought +suit for divorce, intending to name Mr. Lawton as corespondent.”</p> +<p>“Oh, how could he!” Anita cried, indignantly. +“The man must have been mad! My father was the +soul of honor. Every one––the whole world––knows +that! Besides, his heart was buried, all that he did not +give to me, deep, deep in the sea where Mother and my +little brother and sister are lying! He never even +looked at another woman, save perhaps in kindness, to +help and comfort those who were in trouble. But when +did you come into the case, Mr. Blaine? That man +whose voice I heard to-day must have been Herbert +Armstrong himself, of course. Why did he say that +you, as well as my father, were responsible for his +tragedy?”</p> +<p>“Because when Mr. Lawton became aware of Armstrong’s +ungovernable jealousy and the terrible length +to which he meant to go in his effort to revenge himself, +he––your father––came to me to establish Mrs. Armstrong’s +innocence, and his, in the eyes of the world. +Armstrong’s case, although totally wrong from every +standpoint, was a very strong one, but fortunately I +was able to verify the truth and was fully prepared to +prove it. Just on the eve of the date set for the trial, +however, a tragedy occurred which brought the affair to +an abrupt and pathetic end.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123' name='page_123'></a>123</span></div> +<p>“A tragedy? Mrs. Armstrong’s suicide, you +mean?” asked Anita, in hushed tones. “How awful!”</p> +<p>“She was deeply in love with her husband. His unjust +accusations and the public shame he was so undeservedly +bringing upon her broke her heart. I assured +her that she would be vindicated, that Armstrong would +be on his knees to her at the trial’s end. Your father +tried to infuse her with courage, to gird her for the coming +struggle to defend her own good name, but it was +all of no use. She was too broken in spirit. Life held +nothing more for her. On the night before the case was +to have been called, she shot herself.”</p> +<p>“Poor thing!” Anita murmured, with a sob running +through her soft voice. “Poor, persecuted woman. +Why did she not wait! Knowing her own innocence +and loving her husband as she did, she could have forgiven +him for his cruel suspicion when it was all over! +But surely Herbert Armstrong knows the truth now. +How can he blame you and my father for the wreck +which he made of his own life?”</p> +<p>“Because his mind has become unhinged. He was +always excitable and erratic, and his weeks of jealous +wrath, culminating in the shock of the sudden tragedy, +and the realization that he had brought it all on himself, +were too much for him. He was a broker and one +of the most prominent financiers in the city, but with the +divorce fiasco and the death of Mrs. Armstrong, he +began to brood. He shunned the friends who were left +to him, neglected his business and ultimately failed. +Sinking lower and lower in the scale of things, he finally +disappeared from Illington. You can understand now +why I thought it best when you told me of the conversation +you had overheard in the library here a few hours +before your father’s death, and of the mention of Herbert +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124' name='page_124'></a>124</span> +Armstrong’s name, to trace him and find out if it +was he who had come in the heart of the night and +attempted to blackmail Mr. Lawton.”</p> +<p>“I understand. That was why you wanted me to +hear his voice yesterday and see if I recognized it. But +it was not at all like that of the man in the library on +the night of my father’s death. And do you know, Mr. +Blaine”––she leaned forward and spoke in still lower +tones––“when I recall that voice, it seems to me, sometimes, +that I have heard it before. There was a certain +timbre in it which was oddly familiar. It is as if some +one I knew had spoken, but in tones disguised by rage +and passion. I shall recognize that voice when I hear +it again, if it holds that same note; and when I do––”</p> +<p>Blaine darted a swift glance at her from under narrowed +brows. “But why attribute so much importance +to it?” he asked. “To be sure, it may have some bearing +upon our investigation, although at present I can see +no connecting link. You feel, perhaps, that the violent +emotions superinduced by that secret interview, added +to your father’s heart-trouble, indirectly caused his +death?”</p> +<p>Anita again sank back in her chair.</p> +<p>“I don’t know, Mr. Blaine. I cannot explain it, even +to myself, but I feel instinctively that that interview +was of greater significance than any one has considered, +as yet.”</p> +<p>“That we must leave to the future.” The detective +took her hand, and this time Anita rose and walked +slowly with him toward the door. “There are matters +of greater moment to be investigated now. Remember +my advice. Try to be patient. Yours is the hardest +task of all, to sit idly by and wait for events to shape +themselves, or for me to shape them, but it must be. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125' name='page_125'></a>125</span> +If you can calm your nerves and obtain a few hours’ +sleep you will feel your own brave self again when I +report to you, as I shall do, later to-day.”</p> +<p>Despite his night of ceaseless work, Henry Blaine, +clear-eyed and alert of brain, was seated at his desk at +the stroke of nine when Suraci was ushered in––the +young detective who had trailed Walter Pennold from +Brooklyn to the quiet backwater where Jimmy Brunell +had sought in vain for disassociation from his past +shadowy environment.</p> +<p>“It has become necessary, through an incident which +occurred yesterday, for me to change my plans,” Blaine +announced. “I had intended to put you on the trail +of a young crook, a relative of Pennold, but I find I +must send you instead to Long Bay to look up a hotel +register for me and obtain some writing paper with the +engraved letter-head from that hotel. You can get a +train in an hour, if you look sharp. Try to get back +to-night or to-morrow morning at the latest. Find out +anything you can regarding the visit there two years +ago last August of Pennington Lawton and his daughter +and of other guests who arrived during their stay. +Here are your instructions.”</p> +<p>Twenty minutes’ low-voiced conversation ensued, and +Suraci took his departure. He was followed almost immediately +by Guy Morrow.</p> +<p>“What is the dope, sir?” the latter asked eagerly, +as he entered. “There’s an extra out about the Hamilton +disappearance. Do you think Paddington’s had a +hand in that?”</p> +<p>“I want you to tail him,” Blaine replied, non-committally. +“Find out anything you can of his movements +for the past few weeks, but don’t lose sight of him +for a minute until to-morrow morning. He’s supposed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126' name='page_126'></a>126</span> +to be working up the evidence now for the Snedecker divorce, +so it won’t be difficult for you to locate him. +You know what he looks like.”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir. I know the man himself––if you call +such a little rat a man. We had a run-in once, and it +isn’t likely I’d forget him.”</p> +<p>“Then be careful to keep out of his sight. He may +be a rat, but he’s as keen-eyed as a ferret. I’d rather +put some one on him whom he didn’t know, but we’ll have +to chance it. I wouldn’t trust this to anyone but you, +Guy.”</p> +<p>The young operative flushed with pride at this tribute +from his chief, and after a few more instructions he went +upon his way with alacrity.</p> +<p>Once more alone, Henry Blaine sat for a long time +lost in thought. An idea had come to him, engendered by +a few vague words uttered by Anita Lawton in the early +hours of that morning: an idea so startling, so tremendous +in its import, that even he scarcely dared give it +credence. To put it to the test, to prove or disprove +it, would be irretrievably to show his hand in the game, +and that would be suicidal to his investigation should +his swift suspicion chance to be groundless.</p> +<p>The sharp ring of the telephone put an end to his +cogitations. He put the receiver to his ear with a preoccupied +frown, but at the first words which came to him +over the wire his expression changed to one of keenest +concentration.</p> +<p>“Am I speaking to the gentleman who talked with me +at the working girls’ club?” a clear, fresh young +voice asked. “This is Margaret Hefferman, Mr. +Rockamore’s stenographer––that is, I was until ten +minutes ago, but I have been discharged.”</p> +<p>“Discharged!” Blaine’s voice was eager and crisp +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127' name='page_127'></a>127</span> +as he reiterated her last word. “On what pretext?”</p> +<p>“It was not exactly a pretext,” the girl replied. +“The office boy accused me of taking shorthand notes +of a private conversation between my employer and +a visitor, and I could not convince Mr. Rockamore of +my innocence. I––I must have been clumsy, I’m +afraid.”</p> +<p>“You have the notes with you?”</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“The visitor’s name was Paddington?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> +<p>Blaine considered for a moment; then, his decision +made, he spoke rapidly in a clear undertone.</p> +<p>“You know the department store of Mead & Rathbun? +Meet me there in the ladies’ writing-room in half +an hour. Where are you now?”</p> +<p>“In a booth in the drug-store just around the corner +from the building where Mr. Rockamore’s offices are located.”</p> +<p>“Very good. Take as round-about a route as you +can to reach Mead & Rathbun’s, and see if you are followed. +If you are and you find it impossible to shake +off your shadow, do not try to meet me, but go directly +to the club and I will communicate with you there later.”</p> +<p>“Oh, I don’t think I’ve been followed, but I’ll be very +careful. If everything is all right, I will meet you at +the place you named in half an hour. Good-by.”</p> +<p>Henry Blaine paced the floor for a time in undisguised +perturbation. His move in placing inexperienced +girls from Anita Lawton’s club in responsible positions, +instead of using his own trained operatives, had been +based not upon impulse but on mature reflection. The +girls were unknown, whereas his operatives would assuredly +have been recognized, sooner or later, especially +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128' name='page_128'></a>128</span> +in the offices of Carlis and Rockamore. Moreover, the +ruse adopted to obtain positions for Miss Lawton’s protégées +had appeared on the surface to be a flawlessly +legitimate one. He had counted upon their loyalty and +zeal to outweigh their possible incompetence and lack of +discretion, but the stolid German girl had apparently +been so clumsy at her task as to bring failure upon his +plan.</p> +<p>“So much for amateurs!” he murmured to himself, +disgustedly. “The other three will be discharged as +soon as excuses for their dismissal can be manufactured +now. My only hope from any of them is that French +governess. If she will only land Paddington I don’t +care what suspicions the other three arouse.”</p> +<p>Margaret Hefferman’s placid face was a little pale +when she greeted him in the ladies’ room of the department +store a short time later.</p> +<p>“I’m so sorry, Mr. Blaine!” she exclaimed, but in +carefully lowered tones. “I could have cut my right +hand off before I would hurt Miss Lawton after all she +has done for me, and already the first thing she asks, I +must fail to do!”</p> +<p>“You are sure you were not followed?” asked the +detective, disregarding her lamentations with purposeful +brusqueness, for the tears stood in her soft, bovine +eyes, and he feared an emotional outburst which would +draw down upon them the attention of the whole room.</p> +<p>“Oh, no! I made sure of that. I rode uptown and +half-way down again to be certain, and then changed to +the east-side line.”</p> +<p>“Very well.” He drew her to a secluded window-seat +where, themselves almost unseen, they could obtain +an unobstructed view of the entrance door and of their +immediate neighbors.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129' name='page_129'></a>129</span></div> +<p>“Now tell me all about it, Miss Hefferman.”</p> +<p>“It was that office boy, Billy,” she began. “Such +sharp eyes and soft walk, like a cat! Always he is +yawning and sleepy––who would think he was a spy?”</p> +<p>Her tone was filled with such contempt that involuntarily +the detective’s mobile lips twitched. The girl had +evidently quite lost sight of the fact that she herself +had occupied the very position in the pseudo employ of +Bertrand Rockamore which she derided in his office +boy.</p> +<p>He did not attempt to guide her in her narrative of +the morning’s events, observing that she was too much +agitated to give him a coherent account. Instead, he +waited patiently for her to vent her indignation and tell +him in her own way the substance of what had occurred.</p> +<p>“I had no thought of being watched, else I should +have been more careful,” she went on, resentfully. +“This morning, only, he was late––that Billy––and +I did not report him. I was busy, too, for there was +more correspondence than usual to attend to, and Mr. +Rockamore was irritable and short-tempered. In the +midst of his dictation Mr. Paddington came, and I was +bundled out of the room with the letters and my shorthand +book. They talked together behind the closed +door for several minutes and I had no opportunity to +hear a word, but presently Mr. Rockamore called Billy +and sent him out on an errand. Billy left the door of +the inner office open just a little and that was my chance. +I seated myself at a desk close beside it and took down +in shorthand every word which reached my ears. I was +so much occupied with the notes that I did not hear +Billy’s footsteps until he stopped just behind me and +whistled right in my ear. I jumped and he laughed at +me and went in to Mr. Rockamore. When he came out +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130' name='page_130'></a>130</span> +he shut the door tight behind him and grinned as if he +knew just what I had been up to. I did not dare open +the door again, and so I heard no more of the conversation, +but I have enough, Mr. Blaine, to interest you, I +think.”</p> +<p>She fumbled with her bag, but the detective laid a detaining +hand on her arm.</p> +<p>“Never mind the notes now. Go on with your story. +What happened after the interview was over?”</p> +<p>“That boy Billy went to Mr. Rockamore and told +him. Already I have said he was irritable this morning. +He had seemed nervous and excited, as if he were +angry or worried about something, but when he sent for +me to discharge me he was white-hot with rage. Never +have I been so insulted or abused, but that would be +nothing if only I had not failed Miss Lawton. For her +sake I tried to lie, to deny, but it was of no use. My +people were good Lutherans, but that does not help one +in a business career; it is much more a nuisance. He +could read in my face that I was guilty, and he demanded +my shorthand note-book. I had to give it to +him; there was nothing else to be done.”</p> +<p>“But I understood that you had the notes with you,” +Blaine commented, then paused as a faint smile broke +over her face and a demure dimple appeared in either +cheek.</p> +<p>“I gave to him a note-book,” she explained naïvely. +“He was quite pleased, I think, to get possession of it. +No one can read my shorthand but me, anyway, so one +book did him as much good as another. He tried to +make me tell him why I had done that––why I had +taken down the words of a private conference of his with +a visitor. I could not think what I should say, so I kept +silent. For an hour he bullied and questioned me, but +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131' name='page_131'></a>131</span> +he could find out nothing and so at last he let me go. +If now I could get my hands on that Billy––”</p> +<p>“Never mind him,” Blaine interrupted. “Rockamore +didn’t threaten you, did he?”</p> +<p>“He said he would fix it so that I obtained no more +positions in Illington,” the girl responded, sullenly. +“He will tell Miss Lawton that I am deceitful and +treacherous and I should no longer be welcome at the +club! He said––but I will not take up your so valuable +time by repeating his stupid threats. Miss Lawton +will understand. Shall not I read the notes to you? I +have had no opportunity to transcribe them and indeed +they are safer as they are.”</p> +<p>“Yes. Read them by all means, Miss Hefferman, if +you have nothing more to tell me. I do not think we +are being overheard by anyone, but remember to keep +your voice lowered.”</p> +<p>“I will, Mr. Blaine.”</p> +<p>The girl produced the note-book from her bag and +swept a practised eye down its cryptic pages.</p> +<p>“Here it is. These are the first words I heard +through the opened door. They were spoken by Mr. +Rockamore, and the other, Paddington, replied. This +is what I heard:</p> +<p>“‘I don’t know what the devil you’re driving at, I +tell you.’</p> +<p>“‘Oh, don’t you, Rockamore? Want me to explain? +I’ll go into details if you like.’</p> +<p>“‘I’m hanged if I’m interested. My share in our +little business deal with you was concluded some time +ago. There’s an end of that. You’re a clever enough +man to know the people you’re doing business with, +Paddington. You can’t put anything over on us.’</p> +<p>“‘I’m not trying to. The deal you spoke of is over +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132' name='page_132'></a>132</span> +and done with and I guess nobody’ll squeal. We’re all +tarred with the same brush. But this is something quite +different. We were pretty good pals, Rockamore, so +naturally, when I heard something about you which +might take a lot of explaining to smooth over, if it got +about, I kept my mouth shut. I think a good turn deserves +another, at least among friends, and when I got +in a hole I remembered what I did for you, and I thought +you’d be glad of a chance to give me a leg up.’</p> +<p>“‘In other words you come here with a vague threat +and try to blackmail me. That’s it, isn’t it?’</p> +<p>“‘<i>Blackmail</i> is not a very pleasant term, Rockamore, +and yet it is something which even you might attempt. +Get me? Of course the others would be glad +to help me out, but I thought I’d come to you first, since +I––well, I know you better.’</p> +<p>“‘How much do you want?’</p> +<p>“‘Only ten thousand. I’ve got a tip on the market +and if I can raise the coin before the stock soars and +buy on margin, I’ll make a fine little <i>coup</i>. Want to +come in on it, Rockamore?’</p> +<p>“‘Go to the devil! Here’s your check––you can +get it certified at the bank. Now get out and don’t +bother me again or you’ll find out I’m not the weak-minded +fool you take me for. Stick to the small fry, +Paddington. They’re your game, but don’t fish for +salmon with a trout-fly.’</p> +<p>“‘Thanks, old man. I always knew I could call on +you in an emergency. I only hope my tip is a straight +one and I don’t go short on the market. If I do––’</p> +<p>“‘Don’t come to me! I tell you, Paddington, you +can’t play me for a sucker. That’s the last cent you’ll +ever get out of me. It suits me now to pay for your silence +because, as you very well know, I don’t care to inform +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133' name='page_133'></a>133</span> +my colleagues or have them informed that I acted +independently of them; but I’ve paid all that your knowledge +is worth, and more.’</p> +<p>“‘It might have been worth even more to others than +to you or your colleagues. For instance––’</p> +<p>“Then Billy came up behind me and whistled,” concluded +Miss Hefferman, as she closed her note-book. +“Shall I transcribe this for you, Mr. Blaine? We have +a typewriter at the club.”</p> +<p>“No, I will take the note-book with me as it is and +lock it in my safe at the office. Please hold yourself in +readiness to come down and transcribe it whenever it +may be necessary for me to send for you. You have +done splendidly, Miss Hefferman. You must not feel +badly over having been discovered and dismissed. You +have rendered Miss Lawton a valuable service for which +she will be the first to thank you. Telephone me if anyone +attempts to approach you about this affair, or if +anything unusual should occur.”</p> +<p>Scarcely an hour later, when Henry Blaine placed +the receiver at his ear in response to the insistent summons +of the ’phone, her voice came to him again over +the wire.</p> +<p>“Mr. Blaine, I am at the club, but I thought you +should know that after all, I was––what is that you say––shadowed +this morning. Just a little way from +Mead & Rathbun’s my hand-bag was cut from my arm. +It was lucky, <i>hein</i>, that you took the note-book with +you? As for me, I go out no more for any positions. +I go back soon as ever I can, by Germany.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134' name='page_134'></a>134</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XI_THE_CONFIDENCE_OF_EMILY' id='CHAPTER_XI_THE_CONFIDENCE_OF_EMILY'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> +<h3>THE CONFIDENCE OF EMILY</h3> +</div> +<p class="dropcap" ><span class="dcap">All</span> during that day and the night which followed +it, the search for Ramon Hamilton continued, +but without result. With the announcement of +his disappearance, in the press, the police had started a +spectacular investigation, but had been as unsuccessful +as Henry Blaine’s own operatives, who had been working +unostentatiously but tirelessly since the news of the +young lawyer’s evanescence had come.</p> +<p>No one could be found who had seen him. When he +left the offices of the great detective on the previous +morning he seemed to have vanished into thin air. It +was to Blaine the most baffling incident of all that had +occurred since this most complex case had come into his +hands.</p> +<p>He kept his word and called to see Anita in the late +afternoon. He found that she had slept for some hours +and was calmer and more hopeful, which was fortunate, +for he had scant comfort to offer her beyond his vague +but forceful reassurances that all would be well.</p> +<p>Early on the following morning Suraci returned from +Long Bay and presented himself at the office of his chief +to report.</p> +<p>“Here are the tracings from the register of ‘The +Breakers’ which you desired, sir,” he began, spreading +some large thin sheets of paper upon the desk. “The +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135' name='page_135'></a>135</span> +Lawtons spent three weeks there at the time you designated, +and Mr. Hamilton went out each week-end, from +Friday to Monday, as you can see here, and here. They +had no other visitors and kept much to themselves.”</p> +<p>Blaine scanned the papers rapidly, pausing here and +there to scrutinize more closely a signature which appeared +to interest him. At length he pushed them aside +with a dissatisfied frown, as if he had been looking for +something which he had failed to find.</p> +<p>“Anything suspicious about the guests who arrived +during the Lawtons’ stay?” he asked. “Was there +any incident in connection with them worthy of note +which the proprietor could recall?”</p> +<p>“No, sir, but I found some of the employees and +talked to them. The hotel is closed now for the winter, +of course, but two or three of the waiters and bell-boys +live in the neighborhood. A summer resort is a hot-bed +of gossip, as you know, sir, and since Mr. Lawton’s +sudden death the servants have been comparing notes of +his visit there two years ago. I found the waiter who +served them, and two bell-boys, and they each had a +curious incident to tell me in connection with the Lawtons. +The stories would have held no significance if it +weren’t for the fact that they all happened to concern +one person––a man who arrived on the eighth of +August. This man here.”</p> +<p>Suraci ran his finger down the register page until he +came to one name, where he stopped abruptly.</p> +<p>“Albert Addison, Baltimore, Maryland,” read +Blaine. Then, with a sudden exclamation he bent closer +over the paper. A prolonged scrutiny ensued while +Suraci watched him curiously. Reaching into a drawer, +the Master Detective drew out a powerful magnifying +glass and examined each stroke of the pen with minute +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136' name='page_136'></a>136</span> +care. At length he swung about in his chair and pressed +the electric button on the corner of the desk. When his +secretary appeared in response to the summons, Blaine +said:</p> +<p>“Ask the filing clerk to look in the drawer marked +‘P. 1904,’ and bring me the check drawn on the First +National Bank signed <i>Paddington</i>.”</p> +<p>While the secretary was fulfilling his task the two +waited in silence, but with the check before him Henry +Blaine gave it one keen, comparing glance, then turned +to the operative.</p> +<p>“Well, Suraci, what did you learn from the hotel employees?”</p> +<p>“One of the bell-boys told me that this man, Addison, +arrived with only a bag, announcing that his luggage +would be along later and that he anticipated remaining +a week or more. This boy noticed him particularly because +he scanned the hotel register before writing his +own name, and insisted upon having one of two special +suites; number seventy-two or seventy-six. Seventy-four +the suite between, was occupied by Mr. Lawton. +They were both engaged, so he was forced to be content +with number seventy-three, just across the hall. +The boy noticed that although the new arrival did not +approach Mr. Lawton or his daughter, he hung about +in their immediate vicinity all day and appeared to be +watching them furtively.</p> +<p>“Late in the afternoon, Mr. Lawton went into the +writing-room to attend to some correspondence. The +boy, passing through the room on an errand, saw him +stop in the middle of a page, frown, and tearing the +paper across, throw it in the waste-basket. Glancing +about inadvertently, the bell-boy saw Addison seated +near by, staring at Mr. Lawton from behind a newspaper +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137' name='page_137'></a>137</span> +which he held in front of his face as if pretending to +read. The boy’s curiosity was aroused by the eager, +hungry, expectant look on the stranger’s face, and he +made up his mind to hang around, too, and see what was +doing.</p> +<p>“He attended to his errand and returned just in time +to see Mr. Lawton seal the flap of his last envelope, rise, +and stroll from the room. Instantly Addison slipped +into the seat just vacated, wrote a page, crumpled it, +and threw it in the same waste-basket the other man +had used. Then he started another page, hesitated and +finally stopped and began rummaging in the basket, as +if searching for the paper he himself had just dropped +there. The boy made up his mind––he’s a sharp one, +sir, he’d be good for this business––that the stranger +wasn’t after his own letter, at all, but the one Mr. +Lawton had torn across, and in a spirit of mischief, he +walked up to the man and offered to help.</p> +<p>“‘This is your letter, sir. I saw you crumple it up +just now. That torn sheet of paper belongs to one of +the other guests.’</p> +<p>“According to his story, he forced Addison’s own +letter on him, and walked off with the waste-basket to +empty it, and if looks could kill, he’d have been a dead +boy after one glance from the stranger. That was all +he had to tell, and he wouldn’t have remembered such +a trifling incident for a matter of two years and more, if +it hadn’t been for something which happened late that +night. He didn’t see it, being off duty, but another boy +did, and the next day they compared notes. They were +undecided as to whether they should go to the manager +of the hotel and make a report, or not, but being only +kids, they were afraid of getting into trouble themselves, +so they waited. Addison departed suddenly that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138' name='page_138'></a>138</span> +morning, however, and as Mr. Lawton never gave any +sign of being aware of what had taken place, they kept +silent. I located the second boy, and got his story at +first hand. His name is Johnnie Bradley and he’s as +stupid as the other one is sharp.</p> +<p>“Johnnie was on all night, and about one o’clock he +was sent out to the casino on the pier just in front of +the hotel, with a message. When he was returning, he +noticed a tiny, bright light darting quickly about in +Mr. Lawton’s rooms, as if some one were carrying a +candle through the suite and moving rapidly. He remembered +that Mr. Lawton and his daughter had motored +off somewhere just after dinner to be gone overnight, +so he went upstairs to investigate, without mentioning +the matter to the clerk who was dozing behind +the desk in the office. There was a chambermaid on +night duty at the end of the hall, but she was asleep, and +as he reached the head of the stairs, Johnnie observed +that some one had, contrary to the rules, extinguished +the lights near Mr. Lawton’s rooms. He went softly +down the hall, until he came to the door of number +seventy-four. A man was stooping before it, fumbling +with a key, but whether he was locking or unlocking the +door, it did not occur to Johnnie to question in his own +mind until later. As he approached, the man turned, +saw him, and reeled against the door as if he had been +drinking.</p> +<p>“‘Sa-ay, boy!’ he drawled. ‘Wha’s matter with +lock? Can’t open m’ door.’</p> +<p>“He put the key in his pocket as he spoke, but that, +too, Johnnie did not think of until afterward.</p> +<p>“‘That isn’t your door, sir. Those are Mr. Pennington +Lawton’s rooms,’ Johnnie told him. ‘What is +the number on your key?’</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139' name='page_139'></a>139</span></div> +<p>“The man produced a key from his pocket and gave +it to Johnnie in a stupid, dazed sort of way. The key +was numbered seventy-three.</p> +<p>“‘That’s your suite, just across the hall, sir,’ Johnnie +said. He unlocked the door for the newcomer, who +muttered thickly about the hall being d–––d confusing +to a stranger, and gave him a dollar. Johnnie waited +until the man had lurched into his rooms, then asked +if he wanted ice-water. Receiving no reply but a +mumbled curse, he withdrew, but not before he had seen +the light switched on, and the man cross to the door and +shut it. The stranger no longer lurched about, but +walked erectly and his face had lost the sagged, vapid, +drunken look and was surprisingly sober and keen and +alert.</p> +<p>“The two boys decided the next day that Addison +had come to ‘The Breakers’ with the idea of robbing +Mr. Lawton, but, as I said, nothing came of the incident, +so they kept it to themselves and in all probability +it had quite passed from their minds until the news of +Mr. Lawton’s death recalled it to them.”</p> +<p>Suraci paused, and after a moment Blaine suggested +tentatively:</p> +<p>“You spoke of a waiter, also, Suraci. Had he anything +to add to what the bell-boys had told you, of this +man Addison’s peculiar behavior?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir. It isn’t very important, but it sort of +confirms what the first boy said, about the stranger trying +to watch the Lawtons, without being noticed himself, +by them. The waiter, Tim Donohue, says that on the +day of his arrival, Addison was seated by the head waiter +at the next table to that occupied by Mr. Lawton, and +directly facing him. Addison entered the dining-room +first, ordered a big luncheon, and was half-way through +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140' name='page_140'></a>140</span> +it when the Lawtons entered. No sooner were they +seated, than he got up precipitately and left the room. +That night, at dinner, he refused the table he had occupied +at the first meal, and insisted upon being seated at +one somewhere back of Mr. Lawton.</p> +<p>“This Donohue is a genial, kind-hearted soul, and he +was a favorite with the bell-hops because he used to save +sweets and tid-bits for them from his trays. Johnnie +and the other boy told him of their dilemma concerning +number seventy-three, as they designated Addison, and +he in turn related the incident of the dining-room. The +boys told me about him and where he could be found. +He’s not a waiter any longer, but married to one of the +hotel chamber-maids, and lives in Long Bay, running a +bus service to the depot for a string of the cheaper +boarding houses. He corroborated the bell-hops’ story +in every detail, and even gave me a hazy sort of description +of Addison. He was small and thin and dark; clean +shaven, with a face like an actor, narrow shoulders and +a sort of caved-in chest. He walked with a slight limp, +and was a little over-dressed for the exclusive, conservative, +high-society crowd that flock to ‘The Breakers.’”</p> +<p>“That’s our man, Suraci––that’s Paddington, to +the life!” Blaine exclaimed. “I knew it as soon as I +compared his signature on this check with the one in +the register, although he has tried to disguise his hand, +as you can see. I’m glad to have it verified, though, by +witnesses on whom we can lay our hands at any time, +should it become necessary. He left the day after his +arrival, you say? The morning after this boy, Johnnie, +caught him in front of Mr. Lawton’s door?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir. The bell-hops don’t think he came back, +either. They don’t remember seeing him again.”</p> +<p>“Very well. You’ve done splendidly, Suraci. I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141' name='page_141'></a>141</span> +couldn’t have conducted the investigation better myself. +Do you need any rest, now?”</p> +<p>“Oh, no, sir! I’m quite ready for another job!” +The young operative’s eyes sparkled eagerly as he spoke, +and his long, slim, nervous fingers clasped and unclasped +the arms of his chair spasmodically. “What is it? +Something new come up?”</p> +<p>“Only that disappearance, two days ago, of the +young lawyer to whom Miss Lawton is engaged, Ramon +Hamilton. I want you to go out on that at once, and +see what you can do. I’ve got half a dozen of the best +men on it already, but they haven’t accomplished anything. +I can’t give you a single clue to go upon, except +that when he walked out of this office at eleven o’clock +in the morning, he wore a black suit, black shoes, black +tie, a black derby and a gray overcoat with a mourning +band on the sleeve––for Mr. Lawton, of course. Outside +the door there, he vanished as if a trap had opened +and dropped him through into space. No one has seen +him; no one knows where he went. That’s all the help +I can offer you. He’s not in jail or the morgue or any +of the hospitals, as yet. That isn’t much, but it’s something. +Here’s a personal description of him which the +police issued yesterday. It’s as good as any I could +give you, and here are two photographs of him which I +got from his mother yesterday afternoon. Take a good +look at him, Suraci, fix his face in your mind, and then +if you should manage, or happen, to locate him, you +can’t go wrong. I know your memory for faces.”</p> +<p>The “shadow” departed eagerly upon his quest, and +Blaine settled down to an hour’s deep reflection. He +held the threads of the major conspiracy in his hands, +but as yet he could not connect them, at least in any +tangible way to present at a court of so-called justice, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142' name='page_142'></a>142</span> +where everyone, from the judge to the policeman at the +door could, and inevitably would, be bought over, in advance, +to the side of the criminals. It was a one-man +fight, backed only with the slender means provided by a +young girl’s insignificant financial ventures, against the +press, the public, a corrupt political machine of great +power, the desperate ingenuity of three clever, unscrupulous +minds brought to bay, and the overwhelming influence +of colossal wealth. Henry Blaine felt that the +supreme struggle of his whole career was confronting +him.</p> +<p>The unheard-of intrepidity of conception, the very +daring of the conspiracy, combined with the prominence +of the men involved, would brand any accusation, even +from a man of Henry Blaine’s celebrated international +reputation, as totally preposterous, unless substantiated. +And what actual proof had he of their +criminal connection with the alleged bankruptcy of +Pennington Lawton?</p> +<p>He had established, to his own satisfaction, at least, +that the mortgage on the family home on Belleair Avenue +had been forged, and by Jimmy Brunell. The signature +on the note held by Moore, the banker, and the entire +letter asking Mallowe to negotiate the loan had been +also fraudulent, and manufactured by the same hand. +Paddington, the private detective with perhaps the most +unsavory record of any operating in the city, was in +close and constant communication with the three men +Blaine held under suspicion, and probably also with +Jimmy Brunell. Lastly, Brunell himself was known to +be still in possession of his paraphernalia for the pursuit +of his old nefarious calling. Paddington, on Margaret +Hefferman’s testimony, had assuredly succeeded +in mulcting the promoter, Rockamore, of a large sum in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143' name='page_143'></a>143</span> +a clear case of blackmail, but on the face of it there was +no proof that it was connected with the matter of Pennington +Lawton’s insolvency.</p> +<p>The mysterious nocturnal visitor, on the night the +magnate met his death, was still to be accounted for, as +was the disappearance of Ramon Hamilton; and in spite +of his utmost efforts, Henry Blaine was forced to admit +to himself that he was scarcely nearer a solution, or +rather, a confirmation of his steadfast convictions, than +when he started upon his investigation.</p> +<p>Unquestionably, the man Paddington held the key to +the situation. But how could Paddington be approached? +How could he be made to speak? Bribery +had sealed his lips, and only greed would open them. +He was shrewd enough to realize that the man who had +purchased his services would pay him far more to remain +silent than any client of Blaine’s could, to betray +them. Moreover, he was in the same boat, and +must of necessity sink or swim with his confederates.</p> +<p>Fear might induce him to squeal, where cupidity would +fail, but the one sure means of loosening his tongue was +through passion.</p> +<p>“If only that French girl, Fifine Déchaussée, would +lead him on, if she had less of the saint and more of the +coquette in her make-up, we might land him,” the detective +murmured to himself. “It’s dirty work, but +we’ve got to use the weapons in our hands. I must have +another talk with her, before she considers herself affronted +by his attentions, and throws him down hard––that +is, if he’s making any attempt to follow up his +flirtation with her.”</p> +<p>Blaine’s soliloquy was interrupted by the entrance of +Guy Morrow, whose face bore the disgusted look of one +sent to fish with a bent pin for a salmon.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144' name='page_144'></a>144</span></div> +<p>“I found Paddington, all right, sir,” he announced. +“I tailed him until a half-hour ago, but I might as well +have been asleep for all I learned, except one fact.”</p> +<p>“Which is––” the detective asked quickly.</p> +<p>“That he went to Rockamore’s office yesterday morning, +remained an hour and came away with a check for +ten thousand dollars. He proceeded to the bank, had it +certified, and deposited it at once to his own account in +the Merchants’ and Traders’. He evidently split it up, +then, for he went to three other banks and opened accounts +under three different names. Here’s the list. I +tailed him all the way.”</p> +<p>He handed the Master Detective a slip of paper, +which the latter put carefully aside after a casual +glance.</p> +<p>“Then what did he do?”</p> +<p>“Wasted his own time and mine,” the operative responded +in immeasurable contempt. “Ate and drank +and gambled and loafed and philandered.”</p> +<p>“Philandered?” Blaine repeated, sharply.</p> +<p>“In the park,” returned the other. “Spooning with +a girl! Rotten cold it was, too, and me tailing on like +a blamed chaperon! After he made his last deposit at +the third bank, he went to lunch at Duyon’s. Ate his +head off, and paid from a thick wad of yellowbacks. +Then he dropped in at Wiley’s, and played roulette for +a couple of hours––played in luck, too. He drank +quite a little, but it only seemed to heighten his good +spirits, without fuddling him to any extent. When he +left Wiley’s, about five o’clock, he sauntered along Court +Street, until he came to Fraser’s, the jeweler’s. He +stopped, looked at the display window for a few minutes, +and then, as if on a sudden impulse, turned and entered +the shop. I tailed him inside, and went to the men’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145' name='page_145'></a>145</span> +counter, where I bought a tie-clasp, keeping my eye on +him all the time. What do you think he got? A gold +locket and chain––a heart-shaped locket, with a chip +diamond in the center!”</p> +<p>“The eternal feminine!” Blaine commented; and +then he added half under his breath: “Fifine Déchaussée’s +on the job!”</p> +<p>“What, sir?” asked the operative curiously.</p> +<p>“Nothing, Guy. Merely an idle observation. Go on +with your story.”</p> +<p>“Paddington went straight from the jeweler’s to the +Democratic Club for an hour, then dined alone at +Rossi’s. I was on the look-out for the woman, but +none appeared, and he didn’t act as if he expected anybody. +After dinner he strolled down Belleair Avenue, +past the Lawton residence, and out to Fairlawn Park. +Once inside the gates, he stopped for a minute near a +lamp-post and looked at his watch, then hurried straight +on to Hydrangea Path, as if he had an appointment +to keep. I dropped back in the shadow, but tailed +along. She must have been late, that girl, for he +cooled his heels on a bench for twenty minutes, growing +more impatient all the time. Finally she came––a +slender wisp of a girl, but some queen! Plainly dressed, +dark hair and eyes, small hands and feet and a face like +a stained-glass window!</p> +<p>“They walked slowly up and down, talking very confidentially, +and once he started to put his arm about her, +but she moved away. I walked up quickly, and passed +them, close enough to hear what she was saying: ‘Of +course it is lonely for a girl in a strange country, where +she has no friends.’ That was all I got, but I noticed +that she spoke with a decidedly foreign accent, French +or Spanish, I should say.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146' name='page_146'></a>146</span></div> +<p>“Around a bend in the path I hid behind a clump of +bushes and waited until they had passed, then tailed +them again. I saw him produce the locket and chain +at last, and offer them to her. She protested and took +a lot of persuading; but he prevailed upon her and she +let him clasp it about her neck and kiss her. After +that––Good Lord! They spooned for about two hours +and never even noticed the snow which had begun to +fall, while I shivered along behind. About half-past ten +they made a break-away and he left her at the park +gates and went on down to his rooms. I put up for the +night at the Hotel Gaythorne, just across the way, and +kept a look-out, but there were no further developments +until early this morning. At a little after seven he left +his apartment house and started up State Street as if he +meant business. Of course I was after him on the +jump.</p> +<p>“He evidently didn’t think he was watched, for he +never looked around once, but made straight for a little +shop near the corner of Tarleton Place. It was a stationery +and tobacco store, and I was right at his heels +when he entered. He leaned over the counter, and asked +in a low, meaning tone for a box of Cairo cigarettes. +The man gave him a long, searching glance, then turned, +and reaching back of a pile of boxes on the first shelf, +drew out a flat one––the size which holds twenty cigarettes. +He passed it quickly over to Paddington, but +not before I observed that it had been opened and rather +clumsily resealed.</p> +<p>“Paddington handed over a quarter and left the +shop without another word. He went directly to a cheap +restaurant across the street, and, ordering a cup of +coffee, he tore open the cigarette box. It contained only +a sheet of paper, folded twice. I was at the next table, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147' name='page_147'></a>147</span> +too far away to read what was written upon it, but +whatever it was, it seemed to give him immense satisfaction. +He finished his coffee, returned to his rooms, +changed his clothes, and went directly to the office of +Snedecker, the man whose divorce case he is trying to +trump up. Evidently he’s good for a day’s work on +that, so I thought I could safely leave him at it, and report +to you.”</p> +<p>“Humph! I’d like to have a glimpse of that communication +in the cigarette box, but it isn’t of sufficient +importance, on the face of it, to show our hand by having +him waylaid, or searching his rooms,” Blaine cogitated +aloud. “I’ll put another man on to-morrow +morning. Leave the address of the tobacconist with my +secretary on your way out, and if there is another message +to-morrow, he’ll get it first. You needn’t do anything +more on this Paddington matter; I think the other +end needs your services more; and since you’ve already +broken ground up there, you’ll be able to do better than +anyone else. I want you to return to the Bronx, get +back your old room, if you can, and stick close to the +Brunells.”</p> +<p>Back in his old rooms at Mrs. Quinlan’s, Guy sat in +the window-seat at dusk, impatiently awaiting the appearance +of a slender, well-known figure. The rain, +which had set in early in the afternoon, had turned to +sleet, and as the darkness deepened, the rays from a +solitary street lamp gleamed sharply upon the pavement +as upon an unbroken sheet of ice.</p> +<p>Presently the spare, long-limbed form of James +Brunell emerged from the gloom and disappeared within +the door of this little house opposite. Morrow observed +that the man’s step lacked its accustomed jauntiness and +spring, and he plodded along wearily, as if utterly preoccupied +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148' name='page_148'></a>148</span> +with some depressing meditation. A light +sprang up in the front room on the ground floor, but +after a few moments it was suddenly extinguished, and +Brunell appeared again on the porch. He closed the +door softly behind him, and strode quickly down the +street. There was a marked change in his bearing, a +furtiveness and eager haste which ill accorded with his +manner of a short time before.</p> +<p>Scarcely had Brunell vanished into the encroaching +gloom, when his daughter appeared. She, too, approached +wearily, and on reaching the little sagging +gate she paused in surprised dismay at the air of detached +emptiness the house seemed to exude. Then a +little furry object scurried around the porch corner and +precipitated itself upon her. She stooped swiftly, gathered +up the kitten in her arms and went slowly into the +house.</p> +<p>Morrow ate his supper in absent-minded haste, and +as soon as he decently could, he made his way across the +street.</p> +<p>Emily opened the door in response to his ring and +greeted him with such undisguised pleasure and surprise +that his honest heart quickened a beat or two, and +it was with difficulty that he voiced the plausible falsehood +concerning his loss of position, and return to his +former abode.</p> +<p>Under the light in the little drawing-room, he noticed +that she looked pale and careworn, and her limpid, childlike +eyes were veiled pathetically with deep, blue +shadows. As he looked at her, however, a warm tint +dyed her cheeks and her head drooped, while the little +smile still lingered about her lips.</p> +<p>“You are tired?” he found himself asking solicitously, +after she had expressed her sympathy for his supposed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149' name='page_149'></a>149</span> +ill fortune. “You found your work difficult to-day +at the club?”</p> +<p>“Oh, no,”––she shook her head slowly. “My position +is a mere sinecure, thanks to Miss Lawton’s wonderful +consideration. I have been a little depressed––a +little worried, that is all.”</p> +<p>“Worried?” Morrow paused, then added in a lower +tone, the words coming swiftly, “Can’t you tell me, +Emily? Isn’t there some way in which I can help you? +What is it that is troubling you?”</p> +<p>“I––I don’t know.” A deeper, painful flush spread +for a moment over her face, then ebbed, leaving her +paler even than before. “You are very kind, Mr. Morrow, +but I do not think that I should speak of it to anyone. +And indeed, my fears are so intangible, so vague, +that when I try to formulate my thoughts into words, +even to myself, they are unconvincing, almost meaningless. +Yet I feel instinctively that something is wrong.”</p> +<p>“Won’t you trust me?” Morrow’s hand closed +gently but firmly over the girl’s slender one, in a clasp +of compelling sympathy, and unconsciously she responded +to it. “I know that I am comparatively a new +friend. You and your father have been kind enough to +extend your hospitality to me, to accept me as a friend. +You know very little about me, yet I want you to believe +that I am worthy of trust––that I want to help you. +I do, Emily, more than you realize, more than I can express +to you now!”</p> +<p>Morrow had forgotten the reason for his presence +there, forgotten his profession, his avowed purpose, +everything but the girl beside him. But her next words +brought him swiftly back to a realization of the present––so +swiftly that for a moment he felt as if stunned +by an unexpected blow.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150' name='page_150'></a>150</span></div> +<p>“Oh, I do believe that you are a friend! I do trust +you!” Emily’s voice thrilled with deep sincerity, and +in an impetuous outburst of confidence she added: +“It is about my father that I am troubled. Something +has happened which I do not understand; there is something +he is keeping from me, which has changed him. +He seems like a different man, a stranger!”</p> +<p>“You are sure of it?” Morrow asked, slowly. +“You are sure that it isn’t just a nervous fancy? Your +father really has changed toward you lately?”</p> +<p>“Not only toward me, but to all the world beside!” +she responded. “Now that I look back, I can see that +his present state of mind has been coming on gradually +for several months, but it was only a short time ago that +something occurred which seemed to bring the matter, +whatever it is, to a turning-point. I remember that it +was just a few days before you came––I mean, before +I happened to see you over at Mrs. Quinlan’s.”</p> +<p>She stopped abruptly, as if an arresting finger had +been laid across her lips, and after waiting a moment for +her to continue, Morrow asked quietly:</p> +<p>“What was it that occurred?”</p> +<p>“Father received a letter. It came one afternoon +when I had returned from the club earlier than usual. +I took it from the postman myself, and as father had +not come home yet from the shop, I placed it beside his +plate at the supper table. I noticed the postmark––‘Brooklyn’––but +it didn’t make any particular impression +upon me; it was only later, when I saw how it +affected my father, that I remembered, and wondered. +He had scarcely opened the envelope, when he rose, +trembling so that he could hardly stand, and coming +into this room, he shut the door after him. I waited as +long as I could, but he did not return, and the supper +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151' name='page_151'></a>151</span> +was getting cold, so I came to the door here. It was +locked! For the first time in his life, my father had +locked himself in, from me! He would not answer me at +first, as I called to him, and I was nearly frightened to +death before he spoke. When he did, his voice sounded +so harsh and strained that I scarcely recognized it. He +told me that he didn’t want anything to eat; he had +some private business to attend to, and I was not to +wait up for him, but to go to bed when I wished.</p> +<p>“I crept away, and went to my room at last, but I +could not sleep. It was nearly morning when Father +went to bed, and his step was heavy and dragging as he +passed my door. His room is next to mine, and I heard +him tossing restlessly about––and once or twice I +fancied that he groaned as if in pain. He was up in +the morning at his usual time, but he looked ill and +worn, as if he had aged years in that one night. +Neither of us mentioned the letter, then or at any subsequent +time, but he has never been the same man since.”</p> +<p>“And the letter––you never saw it?” Morrow asked +eagerly, his detective instinct now thoroughly aroused. +“You don’t know what that envelope postmarked +‘Brooklyn’ contained?”</p> +<p>“Oh, but I do!” Emily exclaimed. “Father had +thrust it in the stove, but the fire had gone out, without +his noticing it. I found it the next morning, when I +raked down the ashes.”</p> +<p>“You––read it?” Morrow carefully steadied his +voice.</p> +<p>“No,” she shook her head, with a faint smile. +“That’s the queer part of it all. No one could have +read it––no one who did not hold the key to it, I +mean. It was written in some secret code or cipher, +with oddly shaped figures instead of letters; dots and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152' name='page_152'></a>152</span> +cubes and triangles. I never saw anything like it before. +I couldn’t understand why anyone should send +such a funny message to my father, instead of writing it +out properly.”</p> +<p>“What did you do with the letter––did you destroy +it?” This time the detective made no effort to +control the eagerness in his tones, but the girl was so +absorbed in her problem that she was oblivious to all +else.</p> +<p>“I suppose I should have, but I didn’t. I knew that +it was what my father had intended, yet somehow I felt +that it might prove useful in the future––that I might +even be helping Father by keeping it, against his own +judgment. The envelope was partially scorched by the +hot ashes, but the inside sheet remained untouched. I +hid the letter behind the mirror on my dresser, and +sometimes, when I have been quite alone, I took it out +and tried to solve it, but I couldn’t. I never was good +at puzzles when I was little, and I suppose I lack that +deductive quality now. I was ashamed, too: it seemed +so like prying into things which didn’t concern me, +which my father didn’t wish me to know; still, I was +only doing it to try to help him.”</p> +<p>Morrow winced, and drew a long breath. Then resolutely +he plunged into the task before him.</p> +<p>“Emily, don’t think that I want to pry, either, but +if I am to help you I must see that letter. If you trust +me and believe in my friendship, let me see it. Perhaps +I may be able to discover the key in the first word +or two, and then you can decipher it for yourself. You +understand, I don’t wish you to show it to me unless you +really have confidence in me, unless you are sure that +there is nothing in it which one who has your welfare +and peace of mind at heart should not see.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153' name='page_153'></a>153</span></div> +<p>He waited for her reply with a suffocating feeling as +if a hand were clutching at his throat. A hot wave of +shame, of fierce repugnance and self-contempt at the +rôle he was forced to play, surged up within him, but +he could not go back now. The die was cast.</p> +<p>She looked at him––a long, searching look, her childlike +eyes dark with troubled indecision. At length they +cleared slowly and she smiled, a faint, pathetic smile, +which wrung his heart. Then she rose without a word, +and left the room.</p> +<p>It seemed to him that an interminable period of time +passed before he heard her light, returning footsteps +descending the stairs. A wild desire to flee assailed +him––to efface himself before her innocent confidence +was betrayed.</p> +<p>Emily Brunell came straight to him, and placed the +letter in his hands.</p> +<p>“There can be nothing in this letter which could +harm my father, if all the world read it,” she said +simply. “He is good and true; he has not an enemy +on earth. It can be only a private business communication, +at the most. My father’s life is an open book; no +discredit could come to him. Yet if there was anything +in the cryptic message written here which others, not +knowing him as I do, might misjudge, I am not afraid +that you will. You see, I do believe in your friendship, +Mr. Morrow; I am proving my faith in you.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154' name='page_154'></a>154</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XII_THE_CIPHER' id='CHAPTER_XII_THE_CIPHER'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> +<h3>THE CIPHER</h3> +</div> +<p class="dropcap" ><span class="dcap">It</span> was a haggard, heavy-eyed young man who presented +himself at Henry Blaine’s office, early the +next morning, with his report. The detective +made no comment upon his subordinate’s changed appearance +and manner, but eyed him keenly as with +dogged determination Guy Morrow told his story +through to the end.</p> +<p>“The letter––the cipher letter!” Blaine demanded, +curtly, when the operative paused at length. “You +have it with you?”</p> +<p>Morrow drew a deep breath and unconsciously he +squared his shoulders.</p> +<p>“No, sir,” he responded, his voice significantly steady +and controlled.</p> +<p>“Where is it?”</p> +<p>“I gave it back to her––to Miss Brunell.”</p> +<p>“What! Then you solved it?” the detective leaned +forward suddenly, the level gaze from beneath his close-drawn +brows seeming to pierce the younger man’s impassivity.</p> +<p>“No, sir. It was a cryptogram, of course––an arrangement +of cabalistic signs instead of letters, but I +could make nothing of it. The message, whatever it is, +would take hours of careful study to decipher; and even +then, without the key, one might fail. I have seen +nothing quite like it, in all my experience.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155' name='page_155'></a>155</span></div> +<p>“And you gave it back to her!” Blaine exclaimed, +with well-simulated incredulity. “You actually had +the letter in your hands, and relinquished it? In +heaven’s name, why?”</p> +<p>“Miss Brunell had shown it to me in confidence. It +was her property, and she trusted me. Since I was unable +to aid her in solving it, I returned it to her. The +chances are that it is, as she said, a matter of private +business between her father and another man, and it is +probably entirely dissociated from this investigation.”</p> +<p>“You’re not paid, Morrow, to form opinions of your +own, or decide the ethics, social or moral, of a case +you’re put on; you’re paid to obey instructions, collect +data and obtain whatever evidence there may be. Remember +that. Confidence or no confidence, girl or no +girl, you go back and get that letter! I don’t care what +means you use, short of actual murder; that cipher’s +got to be in my hands before midnight. Understand?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir, I understand.” Morrow rose slowly, and +faced his chief. “I’m sorry, but I cannot do it.”</p> +<p>“You can’t? That’s the first time I ever heard that +word from your lips, Guy.” Henry Blaine shook his +head sadly, affecting not to notice his operative’s rising +emotion.</p> +<p>“I mean that I won’t, sir. I’m sorry to appear insubordinate, +but I’ve got to refuse––I simply must. +I’ve never shirked a duty before, as I think you will admit, +Mr. Blaine. I have always carried out the missions +you entrusted to me to the best of my ability, no +matter what the odds against me, and in this case I +have gone ahead conscientiously up to the present moment, +but I won’t proceed with it any further.”</p> +<p>“What are you afraid of––Jimmy Brunell?” asked +the detective, significantly.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156' name='page_156'></a>156</span></div> +<p>The insult brought a deep flush to Morrow’s cheek, +but he controlled himself.</p> +<p>“No, sir,” he responded, quietly. “I’m not going +to betray the trust that girl has reposed in me.”</p> +<p>“How about the trust another girl has placed in me––and +through me, in you?” Henry Blaine rose also, +and gazed levelly into his operative’s eyes. “What of +Anita Lawton? Have you considered her? I ought +to dismiss you, Guy, at this moment, and I would if it +were anyone else, but I can’t allow you to fly off at a +tangent, and ruin your whole career. Why should you +put this girl, Emily Brunell, before everything in the +world––your duty to Miss Lawton, to me, to yourself?”</p> +<p>“She trusted me,” returned Morrow, with grim persistence.</p> +<p>“So did Henrietta Goodwin, in the case of Mrs. +Derwenter’s diamonds; so did the little manicure, in the +Verdun blackmail affair; so did Anne Richardson, in +the Balazzi kidnaping mystery. You made love to all +of them, and got their confessions, and if your scruples +and remorse kept you awake nights afterward, you certainly +didn’t show any effect of it. What difference +does it make in this case?”</p> +<p>“Just this difference, Mr. Blaine”––Morrow’s +words came with a rush, as if he was glad, now that the +issue had been raised, to meet it squarely––“I love +Emily Brunell. Whatever her father is, or has done, +she is guiltless of any complicity, and I can’t stand by +and see her suffer, much less be the one to precipitate +her grief by bringing her father to justice. I told you +the truth when I said that the cipher letter was an +enigma to me. I could not solve the cryptogram, nor +will I be the means of bringing it to the hands of those +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157' name='page_157'></a>157</span> +who might solve it. I don’t want any further connection +with the case; in fact, sir, I want to get out of the +sleuth game altogether. It’s a dirty business, at best, +and it leaves a bad taste in one’s mouth, and many a +black spot in one’s memory. I realize how petty and +sordid and treacherous and generally despicable the +whole game is, and I’m through!”</p> +<p>“Through?” Henry Blaine smiled his quiet, slow, +illuminating smile, and walking around the table, laid his +hand on Morrow’s shoulder. “Why, boy, you haven’t +even commenced. Detective work is ‘petty,’ you said? +‘Petty’ because we take every case, no matter how insignificant, +if it can right a wrong? You call our profession +‘sordid,’ because we accept pay for the work +of our brains and bodies! Why should we not? Are +we treacherous, because we meet malefactors, and fight +them with their own weapons? And what is there that +is ‘generally despicable’ about a calling which betters +mankind, which protects the innocent, and brings the +guilty to justice?”</p> +<p>Morrow shook his head slowly, as if incapable of +speech, but it was evident that he was listening, and +Blaine, after a moment’s pause, followed up his advantage.</p> +<p>“You say that you love Miss Brunell, Guy, and because +of that, you will have nothing further to do with +an investigation which points primarily to her father +as an accomplice in the crime. Do you realize that if +you throw over the case now, I shall be compelled to +put another operative on the trail, with all the information +at his disposal which you have detailed to me? +You may be sure the man I have in mind will have no +sentimental scruples against pushing the matter to the +end, without regard for the cost to either Jimmy Brunell +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158' name='page_158'></a>158</span> +or his daughter. Naturally, being in love with the girl, +her interests are paramount with you. I, too, desire +heartily to do nothing to cause her anxiety or grief. +Remember that I have daughters of my own. As I +have told you, I firmly believe that the old forger is +merely a helpless tool in this affair, but my duty demands +that I obtain the whole truth. If you repudiate +the case now, give up your career, and go to work +single-handed to attempt to protect her and her father +by thwarting my investigation, you will be doing her +the greatest injury in your power. The only way to +help them both is to do all that you can to discover the +real facts in the case. When we have succeeded in that, +we shall undoubtedly find a way to shield old Jimmy +from the brunt of the blame.</p> +<p>“Don’t forget the big interests, political and municipal, +at work in this conspiracy. They would not +hesitate to try to make the old offender a scape-goat, +and you know what sort of treatment he would receive +in the hands of the police. Play the game, Guy; stick +to the job. I’m not asking this of you for my own investigation. +I have a dozen, a score of operatives who +could each handle the branch you are working up just +as well as you. I ask it for the sake of your career, +for the girl herself, and her father. I tell you that instead +of incriminating old Jimmy, you may be the +means of ultimately saving him.––Go back to Emily +Brunell now, get that letter from her by hook or crook, +and bring it to me.”</p> +<p>The detective paused at length and waited for his +answer. It was long in coming. Guy Morrow stood +leaning against his desk, his brows drawn down in a +troubled frown. Blaine watched the outward signs of +his mental struggle warily, but made no further plea. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159' name='page_159'></a>159</span> +At last the young operative raised his head, his eyes +clear and resolute, and held out his hand.</p> +<p>“I will, sir! Thank you for giving me another +chance. I do love the girl, and I want to help her +more than anything else in the world, but I’ll play the +game fairly. You are right, of course. I can be of +more assistance to her on the inside than working in the +dark, and it would be better for everyone concerned if +the truth could be brought to light. I’ll get the letter, +and bring it to you to-night.”</p> +<p>Morrow was waiting at the foot of the subway stairs +that evening when Emily appeared. The crisp, cold +air had brought a brilliant flush to her usually pale +cheeks, and her sparkling eyes softened with tender surprise +and happiness when they rested on him. He +thought that she had never appeared more lovely, and +as they started homeward his hand tightened upon her +arm with an air of unconscious possession and pride +which she did not resent.</p> +<p>“May I come over after supper?” he asked, softly, +as they paused at her gate. “I have something to tell +you––to ask you.”</p> +<p>“Won’t you come in and have supper with me?” she +suggested shyly. “Caliban and I will be all alone. My +father will not be home until late to-night. He telephoned +to me at the club and told me that he had closed +the shop for the day and gone down-town on business.”</p> +<p>A shadow crossed her face as she spoke, the faint +shadow of hidden trouble which he had noticed before. +It was an auspicious moment, and Morrow seized upon +it.</p> +<p>“I will, gladly, if you will let me wash the dishes,” he +replied, with alacrity.</p> +<p>“We will do them together.” The brightness which +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160' name='page_160'></a>160</span> +but an instant before had been blotted from her face returned +in a warm glow, and side by side they entered the +door.</p> +<p>With Caliban, the black kitten, upon his knees, Morrow +watched as she moved deftly about the cheerful, +spotless kitchen preparing the simple meal. He made +no mention of the subject which lay nearest his heart +and mind, and they chattered as gaily and irresponsibly +as children. But when supper was over, and they settled +themselves in the little sitting-room, a curious constraint +fell upon them both. She sat stroking the kitten, +which had curled up beside her, while he gazed absently +at the rosy gleam of the glowing coals behind the +isinglass door of the little stove, and for a long time +there was silence between them.</p> +<p>At length he turned to her and spoke. “Emily,” he +began, “I told you out there by your gate to-night that +I had something to ask of you, something to tell you. I +want to tell you now, but I don’t know how to begin. +It’s something I’ve never told any girl before.”</p> +<p>Her hands paused, resting with sudden tenseness upon +Caliban’s soft fur, and slowly she averted her face from +him. He swallowed hard, and then the words came in a +swift, tender rush.</p> +<p>“Dear, I love you! I’ve loved you from the moment +I first saw you coming down the street! You––you +know nothing of me, save the little I have told you, +and I came here a stranger. Some day I will tell you +everything, and you will understand. You and your +father admitted me to your friendship, made me welcome +in your home, and I shall never forget it. It +may be that some time I shall be able to be of service to +you, but remember that whatever happens, no matter +how you reply to me now, I shall never forget your +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161' name='page_161'></a>161</span> +goodness to me, and I shall try to repay it. I love you +with all my heart and soul; I want you to be my wife, +dear! I never knew before that such love could exist in +the world! You have your father, I know, but, oh, I +want to protect you and care for you, and keep all harm +from you forever.”</p> +<p>“Guy!” Her voice was a mere breathless whisper, +and her eyes blurred with sudden tears, but he slipped +his arm about her, and drew her close.</p> +<p>“Emily, won’t you look at me, dear? Won’t you tell +me that you care, too? That at least there is a chance +for me? If I have spoken too soon, I will await patiently +and serve you as Jacob served for Rebecca of +old. Only tell me that you will try to care, and there is +nothing on this earth I cannot do for you, nothing I +will not do! Oh, my darling, say that you care just a +little!”</p> +<p>There was a pause and then very softly a warm arm +stole about his neck, and a strand of rippling brown +hair brushed his cheek lightly as her gentle head drooped +against his shoulder.</p> +<p>“I––I do care––now,” she whispered. “I knew +that I cared when you––went away!”</p> +<p>The minutes lengthened into an hour or more while +Morrow in the thrall of his exalted mood forgot for the +second time in the girl’s sweet presence his battle between +love and duty: forgot the reason for his coming, +the mission he was bound to fulfill––the letter he had +promised his employer to obtain.</p> +<p>For many minutes Guy Morrow and Emily forgot all +else but the new-found happiness of the love they had +just confessed for each other. Morrow had even forgotten +that most-important letter which, after many +misgivings, he had solemnly promised his employer to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162' name='page_162'></a>162</span> +obtain from Emily. It was a phrase which fell from her +own lips that recalled him to the stern reality of the +situation.</p> +<p>“My father!” she exclaimed, starting from Morrow’s +arms in sudden confusion. “What do you suppose +Father will say?”</p> +<p>“We will tell him when he returns.” Morrow spoke +with reassuring confidence, but a swift feeling of apprehension +came over him. What indeed would Jimmy +Brunell say? The thought of lying to Emily’s father +was repugnant beyond expression, and yet what account +could he give of himself, of his profession and earlier +career? What credentials, what proof of his integrity +and clean, honest life could he present to the man whose +daughter he sought to marry? At the first hint of “detective” +the old forger would inevitably suspect his motive +and turn him from the house, forbidding Emily to +speak to or even look upon him again. There was an +alternative, and although he shrank from it as unworthy +of her faith and trust in him, Morrow was forced to +accept it as the only practicable solution to the problem +confronting him.</p> +<p>“Oh, no, don’t let us tell him––yet!” Unconsciously +Emily smoothed the way for him. “I don’t +mean to deceive him, of course, or keep anything from +him which it is really necessary that he know at once, +but it seems too wonderful to discuss, even with Father, +just now. It is like a fairy promise, like moonshine, +which would be dispelled if we breathed a word of it to +anyone.”</p> +<p>“Of course, dearest, if it is your wish, we will say +nothing now,” he returned slowly. In his heart a fierce +wave of self-contempt at his own hypocrisy surged up +once more, but he forced it doggedly down. He had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163' name='page_163'></a>163</span> +promised his chief to play the game, and after all it was +for the sake of the girl beside him, that he might be able, +when the inevitable moment of disclosure came, to be of +real service to her and her unfortunate father, and to +shield her from the brunt of the blow. “I should not +like your father to think that we deceived him, but perhaps +it would be as well if we kept our secret for a little +time. Later, when I have succeeded in landing a good, +permanent position with a prospect of advancement, I +can go to him with greater assurance, and ask him for +you.”</p> +<p>“Poor Father!” sighed Emily, with a wistful, tremulous +little smile. “We have been inseparable ever since +I can remember. He has lived only for me, and I cannot +bear to think of leaving him––especially now, when +he seems weighed down with some secret anxiety, which he +will share with no one, not even me. I feel that he needs +me, more than ever before. It wrings my heart, Guy, to +see him age before my very eyes, and to know that he +will not confide in me, I may not help him! He seems +to lean upon me, upon my presence near him, as if somehow +I gave him strength. Although he maintains a +steadfast silence, his eyes never leave me, and such a +sad, hungry expression comes into them sometimes, almost +as if he were going away from me forever, as if +he were trying to say farewell to me, that I have to turn +away to hide my tears from him.”</p> +<p>“Poor little girl! It must make you terribly unhappy.” +Morrow paused, and then added, as if in +afterthought: “Perhaps when we tell your father that +we care for each other, that when I have proved myself +you are going to be my wife, he may confide in me––that +is, if he is willing to give you to me. You know, +dear, it is easier sometimes for a man to talk to another +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164' name='page_164'></a>164</span> +of his private worries, than to a woman, even the one +nearest and dearest to him in all the world. I may possibly +be of assistance to him. You told me last night +that the change in him had been coming on gradually +for several months. When did it first occur to you that +he was in trouble?”</p> +<p>“I don’t know. I can’t remember. You see, I didn’t +realize it until that letter came, and then I began to +think back, and the significance of little things which I +had not noticed particularly when they occurred, was +borne in upon me. Although I have no reason for connecting +the two happenings beyond the fact that they +coincided, I cannot help feeling that Mr. Pennold––the +young man whom you have observed when he called to +see my father––has something to do with the state of +things, for it was with his very first appearance, more +than two years ago, that my father became a changed +man.”</p> +<p>“Tell me about it,” Morrow urged, gently. “Can +you remember, dear, when he first came?”</p> +<p>“Oh, yes. We have so few visitors––Father +doesn’t, as a rule, encourage new acquaintances, you +know, Guy, although he did seem to like you from the +very beginning––that the reception of a perfect +stranger into our home as a constant caller puzzled me. +It occurred on a Sunday afternoon in summer. I was +sitting out on the porch reading, when a strange young +man came up the path from the gate, and asked to see +my father. I called to him––he was weeding the flowerbed +around the corner of the house––and when he came, +I went up to my room, leaving them alone together. I +didn’t go, though, until I had seen their meeting, and +one thing about it seemed strange to me, even then. +The stranger, Mr. Pennold, evidently did not know my +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165' name='page_165'></a>165</span> +father, had never even seen him before, from the way he +greeted him, but when Father first caught sight of his +face, his own went deathly white and he gripped the +porch railing for a moment, as if for support.</p> +<p>“‘You wished to see me?’ he said, and his voice +sounded queer and hollow and dazed, like a person awaking +from sleep. ‘What can I do for you?’</p> +<p>“‘This is Mr. James Brunell?’ the young man asked. +‘You are a map-maker, I understand. I have come to +ask for your estimate on a large contract for wall-maps +for suburban schools. If you can spare a half-hour, +we can talk it over now, sir, in private. I have a letter +of introduction to you from an old acquaintance. My +name is Pennold.’</p> +<p>“‘I know.’ My father smiled as he spoke, an odd, +slow smile which somehow held no mirth or welcome. ‘I +noted the family resemblance at once. A relative of +yours was at one time associated with me in business.’</p> +<p>“The young man laughed shortly.</p> +<p>“You mean my uncle, I guess. He’s retired now. +Well, Mr. Brunell, shall we get to business?’</p> +<p>“I left them then, and when I came downstairs from +my room, the young man had gone. Father was standing +in the window over there, with a letter crushed in his +hand. He turned when I spoke to him, and, oh, Guy, if +you had seen his face at that moment! I almost cried +out in fear! It was like one of the terrible, despairing +faces in Dante’s description of the Inferno. He looked +at me blankly as if he scarcely recognized me; then gradually +that awful expression was blotted out, and his old +sweet, sunny smile took its place.</p> +<p>“‘Well, little girl!’ he said. ‘Our Sunday together +was spoiled, wasn’t it, by that young fellow’s intrusion?’</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166' name='page_166'></a>166</span></div> +<p>“‘Not spoiled,’ I replied, ‘if he brought you work.’</p> +<p>“The smile faded from Father’s face, and he responded +very gravely, with a curious, halting pause between +the words:</p> +<p>“‘Yes. He has brought me––work.’</p> +<p>“I forgot all about that episode, in the weeks and +months which followed. Charley Pennold called irregularly. +Sometimes he would come three or four times +a week, then again we would not see him for two or three +months. Father was busier than ever in the shop, and, +Charley Pennold’s orders must have been very profitable, +for we’ve had more money in the last two years +than ever before, that I can remember. And yet Father +has been melancholy and morose at times, as if he were +brooding over something, and his disposition has +changed steadily for the worse, although in the last few +months the difference in his moods has become more +marked. Then, when that letter came he seemed to give +himself wholly up to whatever it is which has obsessed +him.”</p> +<p>“Emily, will you let me see the letter again?” Morrow +asked suddenly. “If you really care for me, and +will be my wife some day, your troubles and vexations +are mine. I want you to let me take the letter home +with me to-night. I feel that if I can study it for a few +hours undisturbed, I shall be able to read the cipher. +I’ll promise, dear, to bring it back the very first thing in +the morning.”</p> +<p>“Of course, you may have it, Guy!” The young +girl rose impulsively, and went to the little desk in the +corner. “I hid it last night after you had gone, among +some old receipts; here it is. You need not return it +to-morrow. Keep it for several days, if you like, until +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167' name='page_167'></a>167</span> +you have studied it thoroughly. I don’t see how you +or any one could solve it without possessing the key, but +I should feel as if a load were taken off my shoulders if +you will try.”</p> +<p>She gave him the letter, and after a long, tender farewell, +he took his departure. Going straight to his room +at Mrs. Quinlan’s, he lighted the lamp, so that if Emily +chanced to look over the way, she would fancy him at +work upon the cryptogram. Morrow waited until the +little house opposite was plunged in darkness; then very +stealthily he crept down the stairs and let himself out, +the precious letter carefully tucked into an inside +pocket.</p> +<p>Morrow proceeded at once to Blaine’s office and found +his chief awaiting him.</p> +<p>“Here’s the letter, sir,” he announced, as he placed +the single sheet of paper on the desk before the detective. +“I can’t make anything out of it, but you probably will. +It’s curious, isn’t it! Why, for instance, are those little +dots placed near some of the crazy figures, and not others?”</p> +<p>Blaine picked the letter up, and examined it with eager +interest.</p> +<p>“It’s comparatively simple,” he remarked, as he +spread it flat upon the desk, and taking up pen and +paper, copied it rapidly. “Symbolic cryptograms are +usually decipherable, with the expenditure of a little +time and effort. There is a method which is universally +followed, and has been for ages. For instance, the +letter <i>e</i> is recognized as being the most frequently used, +in ordinary English, of the whole alphabet; after that +the vowels and consonants in an accepted rotation +which I will not take up our valuable time in discussing +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168' name='page_168'></a>168</span> +with you now, since we will not even need to use it, in +this case.––Here, take this copy, and see if you can +follow me.”</p> +<p>He passed the sheet of paper across to his operative +and Morrow gazed again upon the curiously shaped characters +which from close scrutiny had become familiar, +yet still remained maddeningly baffling to him:</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_4' id='linki_4'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/png174.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 365px; height: 106px;' /><br /> +</div> +<p>“Now,” resumed Blaine, “presupposing that in an +ostensibly friendly message beginning with a word of +four letters, that word is <i>dear</i>, and we’ve two important +vowels to start with. We know the letter was addressed +to Brunell, from an old partner in crime. We will +assume, therefore, that the two words of three letters +each, following <i>dear</i> are either <i>old Jim</i>, <i>old man</i>, or <i>old +boy</i>. Let us see how it works out.”</p> +<p>The detective scribbled hastily on a pad for several +minutes, then leaned back in his chair, with a sigh of satisfaction.</p> +<p>“It can only be <i>boy</i>,” he announced. “That gives +us a working start of eight letters. Add to that the +fact that this character is printed twice consecutively +in three different places”––he pointed to the figure <span style='font-weight:bold'>[.</span> +as he spoke––“which confirms the supposition that it is +<i>l</i>, and you have this result immediately.”</p> +<p>Blaine handed the pad across to Morrow, who read +eagerly:</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169' name='page_169'></a>169</span></div> +<div style="font-size:0.9em; margin: auto 3em;"> +<p style='margin-left:0.0em; margin-right:0.0em; text-align:left'><i>Dear Old Boy.</i><br /></p> +<p><i>B-- -o-ey -o---- -o yo- -ro- old --ore le-- ---a-d +--a- ---y --are -or -olle----- -or yo--o r--- --ll -all +o- yo- ---r-day a- -o-r -e-.</i></p> +</div> +<p>The operative started to speak, but checked himself, +and listened while Henry Blaine went on slowly but +steadily.</p> +<p>“Each letter gained helps us to others, you see, Guy. +For instance <i>-o-ey</i> must be <i>money</i>; the character following +<i>yo</i> three times in different places must be <i>u</i>; the +word <i>––-r-day</i> can only be <i>Thursday</i>; <i>-all</i> is <i>call</i>; <i>a-</i> is +<i>at</i>; and <i>-o-r</i> is <i>four</i>. That gives us eight more letters, +and makes the message read like this.” Blaine +wrote it down and handed the result to Morrow, who +read:</p> +<div style="font-size:0.9em; margin: auto 3em;"> +<p style='margin-left:0.0em; margin-right:0.0em; text-align:left'><i>Dear Old Boy.</i><br /></p> +<p><i>B-- money com-n- to you from old score left un-a-d -hat +-s my share for collect-n- for you? No ris- --ll call on you +Thursday at four. -en.</i></p> +</div> +<p>“It looks easy, now,” admitted Morrow. “But I +never should have thought of going about it that way. +I suppose the sixth word is <i>coming</i>. That gives us <i>i</i> +and <i>g</i>.”</p> +<p>“Right you are,” Blaine chuckled. “Knowing, too, +that the message came from Walter Pennold, we can +safely assume that <i>-en</i> is <i>Pen</i>. Use your common sense +alone, now, and you will find that the message reads: +‘Dear old boy. Big money coming to you from old +score left unpaid. What is my share for collecting for +you? No risk. Will call on you Thursday at four. +Pen.’</p> +<p>“The word <i>risk</i> was misspelled <i>risl</i>. Evidently Pennold +was a little bit rusty in the use of the old code. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170' name='page_170'></a>170</span> +Our bait landed the fish all right, Guy. The money we +planted in the bank of Brooklyn and Queens certainly +brought results. No wonder poor old Jimmy Brunell +was all broken up when he received such a message. +More crafty than Pennold, he realized that it was a +trap, and we were on his trail at last. We’ve got him +cinched now, but he’s only a tool, possibly a helpless +one, in the hands of the master workmen. We’ll go +after them, tooth and nail, for the happiness and stainless +name of two innocent young girls, who trust in us, +and we’ll get them, Guy, we’ll get them if there is any +justice and honor and truth left in the world!”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171' name='page_171'></a>171</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIII_THE_EMPTY_HOUSE' id='CHAPTER_XIII_THE_EMPTY_HOUSE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> +<h3>THE EMPTY HOUSE</h3> +</div> +<p class="dropcapq" ><small>“</small><span class="drop">D</span><span class="dcap">on’t</span> spare them now. Get the truth at all +costs.”</p> +<p style="clear: both; padding-top: .4em;" >With the last instructions of his chief ringing +in his ears, the following morning Guy Morrow set +out for Brooklyn, to interview his erstwhile friends, the +Pennolds, in his true colors.</p> +<p>Mame Pennold, who was cleaning the dingy front +room, heard the click of the gate, and peered with +habitual caution from behind the frayed curtains of the +window. The unexpected reappearance of their young +banking acquaintance sent her scurrying as fast as her +palsied legs could carry her back to the kitchen, where +her husband sat luxuriously smoking and toasting his +feet at the roaring little stove.</p> +<p>“Wally, who d’you think’s comin’ up the walk? +That young feller, Alfred Hicks, who skipped from the +Brooklyn and Queens Bank!”</p> +<p>“Good Lord!” Walter Pennold took his pipe from +his lips and stared at her. “What <a name='TC_5'></a><ins title="Was ''d' you'' in the original text">d’you</ins> s’pose +brought him back? Think he’s broke, an’ wants a +touch?”</p> +<p>“No-o,” his wife responded, somewhat doubtfully. +“He looked prosperous, all right, by the flash I got at +him, an’ he’s walkin’ real brisk and businesslike. Maybe +he’s back on the job.”</p> +<p>“’Tain’t likely, not after the way he left his boarding +place, if that Lindsay woman didn’t lie.” Pennold +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172' name='page_172'></a>172</span> +laid aside his pipe and frowned thoughtfully, as steps +echoed from the rickety porch and a knock sounded +upon the door. “He’s a lightweight, every way you +take him––he’d never stick anywhere.”</p> +<p>“Maybe he’s come to try an’ get you into somethin’,” +Mame suggested. “Don’t you go takin’ up with a bad +penny at your time o’ life, Wally. He might know +somethin’ an’ try blackmail, if he’s real up against it.”</p> +<p>“Well, go ahead an’ open the door!” ordered Walter +impatiently. “We’re straight with the bank. If +he’s workin’ there again we ain’t got nothin’ to worry +about, an’ if he ain’t, we got nothin’ against him. Let +him in.”</p> +<p>With obvious reluctance, Mame shuffled through the +hall and obeyed.</p> +<p>“Hello, Mrs. Pennold!” Guy greeted her heartily, +but without offering his hand. He brushed past her +half-defensive figure with scant ceremony, and entered +the kitchen. “Hello, Pennold. Thought I might find +you home this cold morning. How goes it?”</p> +<p>“Same as usual.” Pennold rose slowly and looked at +his visitor with swiftly narrowed eyes. There was a new +note in the young man’s voice which the other vaguely +recognized; it was as if a lantern had suddenly flashed +into his face from the darkness, or an authoritative hand +been laid upon his shoulder. He motioned mechanically +toward a chair on the other side of the stove, and added +slowly: “S’prised to see you, Al. Didn’t expect +you’d be around here again after your get-away. +Workin’ once more?”</p> +<p>“Oh, I’m right on the job!” responded Guy briskly. +He drew the chair close to the square deal table, so close +that he could have reached out, had he pleased, and +touched his host’s sleeve. Pennold seated himself again +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173' name='page_173'></a>173</span> +in his old position, significantly half-turned, so that +when he glanced slyly at his visitor it was over his +shoulder, in the furtive fashion of one on guard.</p> +<p>“Ain’t back with the Brooklyn and Queens, are +you?” he asked.</p> +<p>“No. It got too slow for me there. I found something +bigger to do.”</p> +<p>Mame Pennold, who had been hovering in the background, +came forward now and faced him across the +table, her shrewd eyes fastened upon him.</p> +<p>“Must have easy hours, when you can get off in the +morning like this?” she observed. “Didn’t forget your +old friends, did you?”</p> +<p>“No, of course not. I hadn’t anything more important +to do this morning, so I thought I’d drop in +and see you both.”</p> +<p>His hand traveled to his breast pocket, and at the +gesture, Mame’s gaunt body stiffened suddenly.</p> +<p>“Didn’t come to inquire about our health, did you?” +she shot at him, acrimoniously.</p> +<p>“I came to see you about another matter––”</p> +<p>“Not on the trail of old Jimmy Brunell still, on that +business of the bonds found at the bank?” Walter’s +voice was suddenly shrill with simulated mirth. +“Nothin’ in that for you, Al; not a nickel, if that’s +what you’re here for.”</p> +<p>“I’m not on Brunell’s trail. I’ve found him,” Morrow +returned quietly; and in the tense pause which ensued +he added dryly: “You led me to him.”</p> +<p>“So that’s what it was, a plant!” Walter started +from his chair, but Mame laid a trembling, sinewy hand +upon his shoulder and forced him back.</p> +<p>“What d’you mean, young man?” she demanded. +“What do we know about old Brunell?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174' name='page_174'></a>174</span></div> +<p>“You wrote him a letter––you knew where to find +him.”</p> +<p>“I only wish we did!” she ejaculated. “We didn’t +write him! You must be crazy!”</p> +<p>“‘Big money coming to you from old score left unpaid. +What is my share for collecting for you?’” +quoted Morrow, adding: “I have a friend who is very +much interested in ciphers, and he wanted me to ask +you about the one you use, Pennold. His name is +Blaine. Ever hear of him?”</p> +<p>“Blaine!” Mame’s voice shrank to a mere whisper, +and her sallow face whitened.</p> +<p>“Blaine! Henry Blaine? The guy they call the +Master Mind?” Pennold’s shaking voice rose to a +breaking cry, but again his wife silenced him.</p> +<p>“Suppose we did write such a letter––an’ we ain’t +admittin’ we did, for a minute––what’s Blaine got on +us?” demanded Mame, coolly. “It’s no crime, as I +ever heard, to write a letter any way you want to. Who +are you, young man? You’re no bank clerk!”</p> +<p>“He’s a ’tec, of course! Shut up your fool mouth, +Mame. An’ as for you, d––n you, get out of this house, +an’ get out quick, or I’ll call the police myself! We’ve +been leadin’ straight, clean, respectable lives for years, +Mame an’ me, an’ nobody’s got nothin’ on us! I ain’t +goin’ to have no private ’tecs snoopin’ in an’ tryin’ to +put me through the third degree. Beat it, now!”</p> +<p>He rose blusteringly and advanced toward Morrow +with upraised fist, but the other, with the table between +them, drew from his pocket a folded paper.</p> +<p>“Not so fast, Pennold. I have a warrant here for +your arrest!”</p> +<p>“Don’t you believe him, Wally!” shrilled Mame. +“It’s a fake! Don’t you talk to him! Put him out.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175' name='page_175'></a>175</span></div> +<p>“The warrant was issued this morning, and I am +empowered to arrest you. You can look at it for yourselves; +you’ve both seen them before.” He opened the +paper and spread it out for them to read. “Walter +Pennold, alias William Perry, alias Wally the Scribbler, +number 09203 in the Rogues’ Gallery. First term at +Joliet, for forgery; second at Sing Sing for shoving +the queer. This warrant only holds you as a suspicious +character, Pennold, but we can dig up plenty of other +things, if it’s necessary; there’s a forger named Griswold +in the Tombs now awaiting trial, who will snitch +about that Rochester check, for one thing.”</p> +<p>“Don’t let him bluff you, Wally.” Mame faced +Morrow from her husband’s side. “They can’t rake +up a thing that ain’t outlawed by time. You’ve lived +clean more’n seven years, an’ you’re free from the bulls. +They can’t hold you.”</p> +<p>“I haven’t any warrant yet for you, Mrs. Pennold,” +observed Morrow, imperturbably. “I admit that it’s +more than seven years since every department-store detective +was on the look-out for Left-handed Mame. I +believe you specialized in furs and laces, didn’t you?”</p> +<p>“What’s it to you? You can’t lay a finger on me +now!” the woman stormed, defiantly.</p> +<p>“Not for shop-lifting or forgery––but how about +receiving stolen goods?”</p> +<p>The shot found an instant target. Walter Pennold +slumped and crumpled down into his chair, his arms outspread +upon the table. He laid his head upon them, and +a single dry, shuddering sob tore its way from his +throat. The woman backed slowly away, and for the +first time a shadow as of approaching terror crossed her +hard, challenging face.</p> +<p>“Stolen goods!” she repeated. “What are you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176' name='page_176'></a>176</span> +tryin’ to put over? Do you think we’re so green at the +game that you can plant the goods here an’ get us put +away on the strength of a past record? You’re a––”</p> +<p>“Nothing like it!” Morrow leaned forward impressively. +“We don’t have to do any planting, Mame. +It’s a good deal less than seven years since the Mortimer +Chase’s silver plate lay in your cellar.”</p> +<p>“Silver plate––in our cellar!” echoed Mame in genuine +amazement.</p> +<p>She stepped forward again, her shrewish chin out-thrust, +but Walter Pennold raised his face, and at sight +of it she stopped as if turned to stone.</p> +<p>“It’s no use!” he cried, brokenly. “They’ve got +me, Mame!”</p> +<p>“Got you? They’ll never get you!” her startled +scream rang out. “Wally, d’you know what the next +term means? It’s a lifer, on any count! I don’t know +what he means about any silver plate, but it’s a bluff! +Don’t let him get your nerve!”</p> +<p>“Is it a bluff, Pennold?” asked Morrow, with dominant +insistence.</p> +<p>The broken figure huddled in the chair shuddered uncontrollably.</p> +<p>“No, it ain’t,” he muttered. “I––I held out on +you, Mame! I knew you wouldn’t risk it, so I didn’t +say nothin’ to you about it, but the money was too easy +to let get by. The old gang offered me five hundred +bucks just to keep it ten days, and pass it on to Jennings. +He came here with a rag-picker’s cart, you remember? +You wondered what I was givin’ him, an’ I +told you it was some rolls of old carpet I got from that +place I was night watchman at, in Vandewater Street. +I hid the stuff under the coal––”</p> +<p>“Shut up!” cried Mame, fiercely. “You don’t know +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177' name='page_177'></a>177</span> +what you’re sayin’. Wally, hold your tongue for God’s +sake! Where’s your spirit? Are you goin’ to break +down now like a reformatory brat, you that had ’em all +guessin’ for twenty years!”</p> +<p>The gaunt woman had recovered from the sudden +shock of her husband’s unexpected revelation and now +towered protectingly over his collapsed form, her palsied +hands for once steady and firm upon his shoulders, while +her keen eyes glittered shrewdly at the young operative +confronting them.</p> +<p>“Look here!” she said, shortly. “If you wanted +us for receiving stolen goods, you wouldn’t come around +here with a warrant for Wally’s arrest as a suspicious +character, an’ you wouldn’t have worked that Brunell +plant. What’s your lay?”</p> +<p>“Information,” responded Morrow, frankly. “The +police don’t know where the plate was, for those ten +days, and there’s no immediate need that they should. +Blaine cleaned up that case eventually, you know––recovered +the plate and caught the butler in Southampton, +under the noses of the Scotland Yard men. I want to +know what you can tell me about Brunell––and about +your nephew, Charley Pennold.”</p> +<p>Walter opened his lips, but closed them without +speech, and his wife replied for him.</p> +<p>“We’re no snitchers,” she said coldly. “There’s +nothin’ we can tell. Jimmy Brunell’s run straight for +near twenty years, so far as we know.”</p> +<p>“And Charley?” persisted Morrow.</p> +<p>“It’s no use, Mame,” Walter Pennold repeated, dully. +“If I go up again, it means the end for me. Charley’s +got to take his chance, same as the rest of us. God +knows I tried to do the right thing by the boy, same as +Jimmy did by his daughter, but Charley’s got the blood +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178' name='page_178'></a>178</span> +in him. It’s hell to peach on your own, but it’s worse +to hear that iron door clank behind you, and to know it’s +for the last time! After all, there ain’t nothin’ in what +we can tell about Charley that a lot of other people +wouldn’t spill, an’ nothin’ that could land him behind the +bars. I ain’t the man I was, or I’d take my medicine +without squealin’, but I can’t face it again, Mame, I +can’t! I’m an old man now, old before my time, perhaps, +but it’s been so long since I smelled the prison +taint, so long since I had a number instead of a name, +that I’d die now, quick, before I’d rot in a cell!”</p> +<p>The terrible, droning monotone ceased, and for a +moment there was silence in the squalid little room. +The woman’s face was as impassive as Morrow’s, as she +waited. Only the tightening of her hands upon her +husband’s shoulders, until her bony knuckles showed +white through the drawn skin, betrayed the storm of +emotion which swept over her, at the memories evoked +by the broken words.</p> +<p>“I’m not asking you to snitch, Pennold,” Morrow +said, not unkindly. “We know all we want to about +Brunell’s life at present––his home in the Bronx, and +his little map-making shop––and we’re not trying to +rake up anything from the past to hold over him now; it +is only some general information I want. As to your +nephew, you’ve got to tell me all you know about him, +or it’s all up with you. Blaine won’t give you away, +if you’ll answer my questions frankly and make a clean +breast of it, and this is your only chance.”</p> +<p>Pennold licked his dry lips.</p> +<p>“What do you want to know?” he asked, at last.</p> +<p>“When did Jimmy Brunell turn his last trick?”</p> +<p>“Years ago; I’ve forgotten how many. It’s no +harm speakin’ of it now, for he did his seven years up +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179' name='page_179'></a>179</span> +the river for it––his first and only conviction. That +was the time old Cowperthwaite’s name was forged to +five checks amounting to thirty thousand, all told, and +Jimmy was caught on the last.”</p> +<p>“Where was his plant?”</p> +<p>“In a basement on Dye Street. The bulls never +found it. He was running a little printer’s shop in +front, as a blind––oh, he was clever, old Jimmy, the +sharpest in his line!”</p> +<p>“What became of his outfit, when he was sent up?”</p> +<p>“Dunno. It just disappeared. Some of his old +pals cribbed it, I guess, or Jimmy may have fixed it with +them to remove it. He was always close-mouthed, and +he never would tell me. I knew where his plant was, of +course, and I went there myself, after he was sent up and +the coast was clear, to get the outfit, to––to take care +of it for him until he came out. Oh, I ain’t afraid to +tell now; it’s so long ago! I could take you to the place +to-day, but the outfit’s gone.”</p> +<p>“And when he had served his term, what happened?”</p> +<p>“He came out to find that his wife was dead, and +Emily, the little girl that was born just after he went +up, was none too well treated by the people her mother’d +had to leave her with. He’d learned in the pen’ to +make maps, an’ he opened a little shop an’ made up his +mind to live straight, an’––an’ so far as I know, he +has.” Pennold faltered, as if from weakness, and for a +moment his voice ceased. Then he went on: “I ain’t +seen him for a long time, but we kept track of each +other, an’ when you come with that cock-an’-bull story +about the bonds, and the bank backed you up in it, why +I––I went to see him.”</p> +<p>“You wrote him first. Why did you send a cipher +letter?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180' name='page_180'></a>180</span></div> +<p>“Because I suspicioned the whole thing was a plant, +just like it turned out to be, an’ I didn’t want to get an +old pal into no trouble. The cipher’s an old one we +used years ago, in the gang, an’ I know he wouldn’t forget +it. I never thought he’d squeal on me to Blaine!”</p> +<p>“He didn’t. The letter––er––came into Blaine’s +possession, and he read it for himself.”</p> +<p>“He did?” Pennold looked up quickly, with a flash +of interest on his sullen face. “He’s a wonder, that +Blaine! If he’d only got started the other way, the +way we did, what a crook he would have made! As it is, +I guess we ain’t afraid of all the organized police on +earth combined, as much as we are of him. It’s a queer +thing he ain’t been shot up or blown into eternity long +ago, an’ yet they say he’s never guarded. He must be +a cool one! Anyhow, I’m glad Jimmy didn’t squeal on +me; I’d hate to think it of him. When I went to see +him about the bonds, he wouldn’t have nothin’ to do with +them. Swore they was a plant, he did, an’ warned me +off. He seemed real excited, considerin’ he had nothin’ +to worry about, but I took his word for it, an’ beat it. +That’s the last I seen of him.”</p> +<p>“Did you send your nephew to him?”</p> +<p>“Me?” Pennold’s tones quickened in surprise. “I +ain’t seen him in a long while, an’ I don’t believe he even +remembers old Jimmy; he was only a kid when Jimmy +went up the river. What would I send Charley for, +when I’d gone myself an’ it hadn’t worked?”</p> +<p>It was evident to Morrow that the man he was interrogating +was ignorant of Brunell’s connection with the +Lawton case, and he changed his tactics.</p> +<p>“Tell me about Charley. You say you tried to do +right by him.”</p> +<p>“Of course I did! Wasn’t he my brother’s boy?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181' name='page_181'></a>181</span> +Pennold hunched over the table, and continued eagerly: +“Mame kept him clean an’ fed, an’ we sent him to public +school, just like any other kid. But it wasn’t no use. +He had it in him to go wrong, without the wit to get +away with it. He was caught pinchin’ lead piping when +he was sixteen, an’ sent to Elmira for three years. +Them three years was his finish. When he came out +he’d had what you’d call a graduate course in every form +of crookedness under the sun, from fellers harder an’ +cleverer than he’d ever thought of bein’, an’ he was bitter +besides, an’ desperate. There wasn’t no chance for him +then, an’ he just drifted on down the line. I never +heard of him turnin’ a real trick himself, an’ he never +got caught at nothin’ again, but he chummed in with +the gang, an’ he always seemed to have coin enough. I +ain’t seen him in more’n a year. The last I heard of +him, he was workin’ as a stool-pigeon an’ snitcher for +the worst scoundrel of the lot.”</p> +<p>“Who was that?” asked Morrow.</p> +<p>Pennold hesitated and then replied with dogged reluctance.</p> +<p>“I dunno what that’s got to do with it, but the feller’s +name is Paddington, an’ he’s the worst kind of a crook––a +’tec gone wrong. At least, that’s what they say +about him, but I ain’t got nothin’ on him; I don’t believe +I ever seen the man, that I know of. He’s worked on a +lot of shady cases; I know that much, an’ he’s clever. +More’n a dozen crooks are floatin’ around town that +would be up the river if he told what he knew about ’em; +so naturally, he owns ’em, body an’ soul. Not that +Charley’s one that’d go up––he’s only in it for the coin––but +I’d rather see him get pinched an’ do time for +pullin’ off somethin’ on his own account, than runnin’ +around doin’ dirty work for a man who ain’t in his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182' name='page_182'></a>182</span> +father’s class, or mine. He’s a disgrace; that’s what +Charley is––a plain disgrace.”</p> +<p>Pennold’s voice rang out in highly virtuous indignation. +Morrow forbore to smile at the oblique moral +viewpoint of the old crook.</p> +<p>“What does he look like?” he asked. “Short and +slim, isn’t he, with a small dark mustache?”</p> +<p>“That’s him!” ejaculated Pennold disgustedly. +“Dresses like a dude, an’ chases after a bunch of skirts! +Spreads himself like a ward politician when he gets a +chance! He’s my nephew, all right, but as long as he +won’t run straight, same as I’m doin’ now, I’d rather +he’d crack a crib than play errand boy for a man I +wouldn’t trust on look-out!”</p> +<p>“Where does Charley live?” asked Morrow.</p> +<p>“How should I know? He hangs out at Lafferty’s +saloon, down on Sand Street, when he ain’t off on some +steer or other––leastways he used to.”</p> +<p>Morrow folded the warrant slowly, in the pause which +ensued, and returned it to his pocket while the couple +watched him tensely.</p> +<p>“All right, Pennold,” he said, at last. “I guess I +won’t have to use this now. If you’ve been square, an’ +told me all you know, you won’t be bothered about that +matter of the Mortimer Chase silver plate. If you’ve +kept anything back, Blaine will find it out, and then it’s +good-night to you.”</p> +<p>“I ain’t!” returned Pennold, with tremendous eagerness. +“I’ve told you everything you asked, an’ I don’t +savvy what you’re gettin’ at, anyway. If you’re tryin’ +to mix Jimmy Brunell up in any new case you’re dead +wrong; he’s out of the game for good. As for Charley, +he wouldn’t know enough to pick up a pocket-book if he +saw one lyin’ on the sidewalk, unless he was told to!”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183' name='page_183'></a>183</span></div> +<p>“Well, I may as well warn both of you that you’re +watched, and if you try to make a get-away, you’ll be +taken up––and it won’t be on suspicion, either. Play +fair with Blaine, and he’ll be square with you, but don’t +try to put anything over on him, or it’ll be the worse for +you. It can’t be done.”</p> +<p>Morrow closed the door behind him, leaving the +couple as they had been almost throughout the interview––the +woman erect and stony of face, the man miserable +and shaken, crouched dejectedly over the table. But +scarcely had he descended the steps of the ramshackle +little porch when the voice of Mame Pennold reached +him, pitched in a shrill key of emotional exultation.</p> +<p>“Oh, Wally, Wally! Thank God you ain’t a +snitcher! Thank God you didn’t tell!”</p> +<p>The voice ceased suddenly, as if a hand had been laid +across her lips, and after a moment’s hesitation, Morrow +swung off down the path, conscious of at least one pair +of eyes watching him from behind the soiled curtains of +the front room.</p> +<p>What had the woman meant? Pennold obviously had +kept something back, but was it of sufficient importance +to warrant his returning and forcing a confession? +Whether it concerned Brunell or their nephew Charley +mattered little, at the moment. He had achieved the +object of his visit; he knew that Pennold himself had no +connection with the Lawton forgeries, nor knowledge of +them, and at the same time he had learned of Charley’s +affiliation with Paddington. The couple back there in +the little house could tell him scarcely more which would +aid him in his investigation, but the dapper, viciously +weak young stool-pigeon, if he could be located at once, +might be made to disclose enough to place Paddington +definitely within the grasp of the law.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184' name='page_184'></a>184</span></div> +<p>Guy Morrow boarded a Sand Street car, and behind +the sporting page of a newspaper he kept a sharp look-out +for Lafferty’s saloon. He came to it at last––a +dingy, down-at-heel resort, with much faded gilt-work +over the door, and fly-specked posters of the latest social +function of the district’s political club showing dimly +behind its unwashed windows.</p> +<p>He rode a block beyond––then, alighting, turned +back and entered the bar. It was deserted at that hour +of the morning, save for a disconsolate-looking individual +who leaned upon one ragged elbow, gazing mournfully +into his empty whisky glass at the end of the narrow, +varnished counter. The bartender emerged from a door +leading into the back room, with a tall, empty glass in +his hand, and Morrow asked for a beer. As he stood +sipping it, he watched the bartender replenish the empty +unwashed glass he had carried with a generous drink of +doubtful looking absinthe and a squirt from a syphon.</p> +<p>“Bum drink on a cold morning,” he observed tentatively. +“Have a whisky straight, on me?”</p> +<p>“I will that!” the bartender returned heartily. +“This green-eyed fairy stuff ain’t for me; it’s for a +dame in the back room––one of the regulars. She’s +been hittin’ it up all the morning, but it don’t seem to +affect her––funny, too, for she ain’t a boozer, as a +general thing. Her guy’s gone back on her, an’ she’s +sore. I’ll be with you in a minute.”</p> +<p>He vanished into the back room with the glass, and +before he returned, the disconsolate individual had slunk +out, leaving Morrow in sole possession. If this place +was indeed the rendezvous of the gang of minor criminals +with which Charley Pennold had allied himself, he +had obviously come at the wrong time to obtain any +information concerning him, unless the voluble bartender +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185' name='page_185'></a>185</span> +could be made to talk, and that would be a difficult +matter.</p> +<p>“Look here!” Morrow decided on a bold move, as +the bartender reappeared and placed a bottle of whisky +between them. He leaned forward, after a quick, furtive +glance about him, and spoke rapidly, with a disarming +air of confidential frankness. “I’m in an awful +hole. I’m new at this game, and I’ve got to find a fellow +I never saw, and find him quick. He hangs out +here, and the big guy sent me for him.”</p> +<p>“What big guy?” The cordiality faded from the +bartender’s ruddy countenance and he stepped back +significantly.</p> +<p>“You know––Pad!” Morrow shot back on a desperate +bluff. “The fellow’s name’s Charley Pennold, +and Pad wants him right away. He didn’t tell me to +ask you about him, but he made it pretty plain to me +that he’d got to get him.”</p> +<p>“Say!” The bartender approached cautiously. +He rested one hand upon the counter, keeping the other +well below it, but Morrow did not flinch. “What’s +your lay?”</p> +<p>“Anything there’s coin in,” returned the operative, +with a knowing leer. “Anything from planting divorce +evidence to shoving the queer. I’ve been working +for a pal of Pad’s in St. Louis for three or four +years––that’s why I’m strange around here. Pad’s +up in the air about something, and wants this +Charley-boy right away, and he tells me to look here for +him and not come back without him, see? This is on +the level. If you know where he is, be a good fellow +and come across, will you?”</p> +<p>The bartender felt under the counter for the shelf, +and then raised his hand, empty, toward the bottle.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186' name='page_186'></a>186</span></div> +<p>“I guess you’re all right,” he remarked. “Anyway, +I’ll take a chance. What’s your moniker?”</p> +<p>“Guy the Blinker,” returned Morrow promptly. +“Guess you’ve heard of me, all right. I pulled off––but +I haven’t got time to chin now. I got to find this +boy if I want to keep in with Pad, and there’s coin in +it.”</p> +<p>“Sure there is,” the bartender affirmed. “But he’s +a queer one––the big guy, as you call him. What’s +his game? Why, only this morning, he tipped Charley +off to beat it, and Charley did. Maybe he thinks the +kid’s double-crossed him.”</p> +<p>Morrow’s heart leaped in sudden excitement at this +astounding news, but he controlled himself, and replied +nonchalantly:</p> +<p>“Search me. He told me I’d find this Charley-boy +here; that’s all I know. He isn’t talking for publication––not +Pad.”</p> +<p>“You bet not!” The bartender nodded. Then he +jerked a grimy thumb in the direction of the back room. +“Why, the dame in there, cryin’ into her absinthe, is +Charley’s girl. She’s a queen––straight as they make +’em, if she does work the shops now and then––and +Charley was fixin’ to hook up with her next month, +preacher-fashion, and settle down. Now he gets the +office and skips without a word to her, and she’s all +broke up over it!”</p> +<p>The door at the rear opened suddenly, and a girl +stood upon the threshold. She was tall and slender, +and her face showed traces of positive beauty, although +it was bloated and distorted with weeping and dissipation, +and her big black eyes glittered feverishly.</p> +<p>“What’s that you’re sayin’ about Charley?” she +demanded half-hysterically. “He’s gone! He’s left +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187' name='page_187'></a>187</span> +me! I don’t believe Pad gave him the office, and if he +did, Charley’s a fool to beat it! They’ve got nothin’ +on him––it’s Pad who’s got to save his own skin!”</p> +<p>“Shut up, Annie!” advised the bartender, not unkindly. +“Pad’s sent this here feller for him, now!”</p> +<p>“Then it was a lie––a lie! Pad didn’t tell him to +beat it––he’s gone on his own account, gone for good! +But I’ll find him; I’ll––”</p> +<p>The girl suddenly burst into a storm of sobs, and, +turning, reeled back into the inner room.</p> +<p>“You see!” the bartender observed, confidentially, +as the door swung shut behind her. “She thinks he’s +gone off with another skirt; that’s the way with women! +I knew Pad had given him the office, though. I got it +straight. You’re right about Pad bein’ up in the air. +He must have bitten off more than he can chew, this +time. I heard Reddy Thursby talkin’ to Gil Hennessey +about it, right where you’re standin’, not two hours ago. +They’re both Pad’s men––met ’em yet?”</p> +<p>Morrow shook his head, not trusting himself to speak, +and the loquacious bartender went on.</p> +<p>“It was Reddy brought the word for Charley to +skip, and he dropped somethin’ about a raid on some +plant up in the Bronx. Know anything about it?”</p> +<p>For a moment the rows of bottles on their shelves +seemed to reel before Morrow’s eyes, and his heart +stood still, but he forced himself to reply:</p> +<p>“Oh, that? I know all about it, of course. Wasn’t +I in on the ground floor? But that’s only a fake steer; +this Charley-boy hasn’t got anything to do with it, +that I know of. Maybe the big guy thought he hadn’t +got out of the way, and sent me to find out. No use +my hanging round here any longer, anyhow. I’ll amble +back and tell Pad he’s gone. Swell dame, that Annie––some +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188' name='page_188'></a>188</span> +queen, eh? Let’s have one more drink and I’ll +blow!”</p> +<p>With assurances of an early return, Morrow contrived +to beat a retreat without arousing the suspicions +of the bartender, but he went out into the pale, wintry, +sunlight with his brain awhirl. To his apprehensive +mind a raid on a plant in the Bronx could mean only +one place––the little map-making shop of Jimmy +Brunell. Something had happened in his absence; +some one had betrayed the old forger. And Emily––what +of her?</p> +<p>Morrow sped as fast as elevated and subway could +carry him to the Bronx. Anxious as he was about the +girl he loved, he did not go directly to the house on +Meadow Lane, but made a detour to the little shop a +few blocks away.</p> +<p>Morrow’s instinct had not misled him. Before he +had approached within a hundred feet of the shop he +knew that his fears had been justified.</p> +<p>The door swung idly open on its hinges, and the single +window gave forth a vacant stare. Within everything +was in the wildest disorder. The table which served +as a counter, the racks of maps, the high stool, the +printing apparatus, all were overturned. The trap +door leading into the cellar was open, and Morrow flung +himself wildly down the sanded steps. The forger’s +outfit had disappeared.</p> +<p>What had become of Jimmy Brunell? His purpose +served, had Paddington betrayed him to the police, or +had some warning reached him to flee before it was too +late?</p> +<p>With mingled emotions of fear and dread, Morrow +emerged from the little dismantled shop and made the +best of his way to Meadow Lane. The Brunell cottage +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189' name='page_189'></a>189</span> +appeared much as usual as he neared it, and for +an instant hope surged up within him. Emily would +be at the club, of course. If her father had been arrested, +or had succeeded in getting away safely alone, +she would not know of it until she came back in the +evening. He would wait for her, intercept her, and tell +her the whole truth.</p> +<p>Instead of entering his own lodgings, he crossed the +road, and paused at the Brunells’ gate. Something +forlorn and desolate in the atmosphere of the little +home seemed to clutch at his heart, and on a swift impulse +he strode up the path, ascended the steps of the +porch and peered in the window of the living-room. +Everything in the usually orderly room was topsy-turvy, +and everywhere there was evidence of hurried +flight. From where he stood the desk––her desk––was +plainly visible, its ransacked drawers pulled open, +the floor before it strewn with torn and scattered +papers. Its top was bare, amid the surrounding litter, +and even his photograph which he had recently given +her, and which usually stood there in the little frame she +had made for it with her own hands, was gone.</p> +<p>A chill settled about his heart. Had Brunell been +captured, and police detectives searched the house, his +picture could hold no interest for them. Had the old +forger fled alone, he would not have taken so insignificant +an object from among all his household goods and +chattels. Emily alone would have paused to save the +photograph of the man she loved from the wreckage of +her home; Emily, too, had gone!</p> +<p>Scarcely knowing what he was doing, and caring +less, Morrow rushed across the street, and descended +upon Mrs. Quinlan, his landlady, at her post in the +kitchen.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190' name='page_190'></a>190</span></div> +<p>“What’s happened to the Brunells?” he demanded +breathlessly.</p> +<p>“Land’s sakes, but you scared me, Mr. Morrow!” +Mrs. Quinlan turned from the stove with a hurried start, +and wiped her plump, steaming face on her apron. “I +should like to know what’s happened myself. All I do +know is that they’ve gone bag and baggage––or as +much of it as they could carry with them––and never; +a word to a soul except what Emily ran across to say +to me.”</p> +<p>“What was it?” he fairly shouted at her. But +there were few interests in Mrs. Quinlan’s humdrum existence, +and seldom did she have an exciting incident to +relate and an eager audience to hang upon her words. +She sat down ponderously and prepared to make the +most of the present occasion.</p> +<p>“I thought it was funny to see a man goin’ into their +yard at five o’clock this mornin’, but my tooth was so +bad I forgot all about him and it never come into my +mind again until I seen them goin’ away. I sleep in the +room just over yours, you know, Mr. Morrow, an’ my +tooth ached so bad I couldn’t sleep. It was five by my +clock when I got up to come down here an’ get some hot +vinegar, an’ I don’t know what made me look out my +winder, but I did. I seen a man come running down +the lane, keepin’ well in the shaders, an’ looking back as +if he was afraid he was bein’ chased, for all the world +like a thief. While I looked, he turned in the Brunells’ +yard an’ instead of knocking on the door, he began +throwin’ pebbles up at the old man’s bedroom winder. +Pretty soon it opened and Mr. Brunell looked out. +Then he come down quick an’ met the man at the front +door. They talked a minute, an’ the feller handed over +somethin’ that showed white in the light of the street +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191' name='page_191'></a>191</span> +lamp, like a piece of paper. Mr. Brunell shut the door +an’ the man ran off the way he had come. I come down +an’ got my hot vinegar an’ when I got back to my room +I seen there were lights in Mr. Brunell’s room an’ +Emily’s, an’ one in the livin’-room, too, but my tooth +was jumpin’ so I went straight to bed. About half an +hour after you’d left for business I was shakin’ a rug +out of the front sittin’-room winder, when Emily come +runnin’ across the street.</p> +<p>“‘Oh, Mrs. Quinlan!’ she calls to me, an’ I see she’d +been cryin’. ‘Mrs. Quinlan, we’re goin’ away!’</p> +<p>“‘For good?’ I asked.</p> +<p>“‘Forever!’ she says. ‘Will you give a message to +Mr. Morrow for me, please? Tell him I’m sorry I was +mistaken. I’m sorry to have found him out!’</p> +<p>“She burst out cryin’ again an’ ran back as her father +called her from the porch. He was bringin’ out a pile +of suit-cases and roll-ups, and pretty soon a taxicab +drove up with a man inside. I couldn’t see his face––only +his coat-sleeve. They got in an’ went off kitin’ +an’ that’s every last thing I know. What d’you s’pose +she meant about findin’ you out, Mr. Morrow?”</p> +<p>He turned away without reply, and went to his room, +where he sat for long sunk in a stupor of misery. She +had found out the truth, before he could tell her. She +knew him for what he was, knew his despicable errand in +ingratiating himself into her friendship and that of her +father. She believed that the real love he had professed +for her had been all a mere part of the game he +was playing, and now she had gone away forever! He +would never see her again!</p> +<p>“By God, no!” he cried aloud to himself, in the bitterness +of his sorrow. “I will find her again, if I search +the ends of the earth. She shall know the truth!”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192' name='page_192'></a>192</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIV_IN_THE_OPEN' id='CHAPTER_XIV_IN_THE_OPEN'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2> +<h3>IN THE OPEN</h3> +</div> +<p class="dropcap" ><span class="dcap">Guy Morrow’s</span> resolve to find Emily Brunell at +all costs, stirred him from the apathy of despair +into which he had fallen, and roused him to instant +action. Leaving the house, he went to the nearest +telephone pay station, where he could converse in +comparative privacy, and called up Henry Blaine’s office, +only to discover that the master detective had departed +upon some mission of his own, was not expected +to return until the following morning, and had left no +instructions for him.</p> +<p>This unanticipated set-back left Morrow without definite +resource. As a forlorn hope he telephoned to the +Anita Lawton Club, only to learn that Miss Brunell had +sent in her resignation as secretary early that morning, +but told nothing of her future plans, except that she +was leaving town for an indefinite period.</p> +<p>There was nothing more to be learned by another examination +of the dismantled shop, and the young operative +turned his steps reluctantly homeward. A sudden +suspicion had formed itself in his mind that Blaine himself, +and not the police, had been responsible for the +raid on the forger’s little establishment––that Blaine +had done this without taking him into his confidence and +was now purposely keeping out of his way.</p> +<p>When the early winter dusk came, Guy could endure +it no longer, but left the house. Drawn irresistibly by +his thoughts, he crossed the road again, and entering +the Brunells’ gate, he strolled around the deserted cottage, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193' name='page_193'></a>193</span> +to the back. At the kitchen door a faint, piteous +sound made him pause. It was an insistent, wailing cry +from within, the disconsolate meowing of a frightened, +lonely kitten.</p> +<p>Caliban had been left behind, forgotten! Emily’s +panic and haste must have been great indeed to cause +her to forsake the pet she had so tenderly loved! Much +as he detested the spiteful little creature, he could not +leave it to starve, for her sake.</p> +<p>Morrow tried the kitchen door, but found it securely +bolted from within. The catch on the pantry window +was loose, however, and Morrow managed to pry it open +with his jackknife. With a hasty glance about to see +that he was not observed, he pushed up the window and +clambered in, closing it cautiously after him. He +stumbled through the semi-obscurity and gloom into the +kitchen; instantly the piteous cry ceased and Caliban +rose from the cold hearth and bounded gladly to him, +purring and rubbing against his legs. Mechanically he +stooped and stroked it; then, after carefully pulling +down the shades, he lighted the lamp upon the littered +table, and looked about him. Everything bore evidence, +as had the living-room, of a hasty exodus. The +fire was extinguished in the range, and it was filled to +the brim with flakes of light ashes. Evidently Brunell +or his daughter had paused long enough in their flight +to burn armfuls of old papers––possibly incriminating +ones.</p> +<p>On the table was the débris of a hasty meal. Morrow +poured some milk from the pitcher into a saucer and +placed it on the floor for the hungry kitten; then, taking +the lamp, he started on a tour of inspection through +the house. Everywhere the wildest confusion and disorder +reigned.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194' name='page_194'></a>194</span></div> +<p>Morrow turned aside from the door of Emily’s room, +but entered her father’s. There, save for a few articles +of old clothing strewn about, he found comparative order +and neatness. The simple toilet articles were in +their places, the narrow bed just as Jimmy Brunell had +left it when he sprang up to admit his nocturnal visitor.</p> +<p>On the floor near the bureau on which the lamp stood, +something white and crumpled met Morrow’s eye; he +stooped quickly and picked it up. It was a large single +sheet of paper, and as the operative smoothed it out, he +realized that it must be the message which had been hurriedly +brought to Brunell in the early hour before the +dawn. The paper had lain just where he had dropped +it, crushed from his hand after reading the warning it +contained.</p> +<p>Morrow turned up the wick of his own lamp and +stared curiously at the missive. The sheet of paper +was ruled at intervals, the lines and interstices filled +with curious hieroglyphics, and at a first glance it appeared +to the operative’s puzzled eyes to be a mere portion +of a page of music. Then he observed that old +figures and letters, totally foreign to the notes of a +printed score, were interspersed between the rest, and +moreover only the treble clef had been used.</p> +<p>“Oh, Lord!” he groaned to himself. “It’s another +cryptogram, and I don’t believe Blaine himself will be +able to solve this one!”</p> +<p>He stared long and uncomprehendingly at it; then +with a sigh of baffled interest he folded it carefully and +placed it in his pocket. As he did so, there came a sudden +sharp report from outside, the tinkle of a broken +window pane, and a bullet, whistling past his ear, embedded +itself in the wall behind him!</p> +<p>Instinctively Morrow flung himself flat upon the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195' name='page_195'></a>195</span> +floor, but no second shot was fired. Instead, he heard +the muffled receding of flying footsteps from the sidewalk, +and an excited cry or two as neighboring windows +were raised and curious heads were thrust out.</p> +<p>Hastily extinguishing the lamp, Morrow felt his way +to the kitchen, where he pocketed Caliban with scant +ceremony and departed swiftly the way he had come, +through the pantry window. By scaling a back-yard +wall or two he found an alley leading to the street; and +making a detour of several blocks, he returned to his +lodgings, to find Mrs. Quinlan waiting in great excitement +to relate her version of the revolver shot.</p> +<p>Morrow listened with what patience he could muster, +and then handed Caliban over to her mercy.</p> +<p>“It’s Miss Brunell’s cat,” he explained. “You’ll +take care of it for a day or two, at least, won’t you? I +expect to hear from her soon, and I’d like to be able to +restore it to her.”</p> +<p>“Well, I ain’t what you would call crazy about cats,” +the landlady returned, somewhat dubiously, “but I +couldn’t let it die in this cold. I’ll keep it, of course, +till you hear from Emily. Where did you find it?”</p> +<p>“Over in their yard,” he responded, with prompt +mendacity. “I was in the neighborhood and heard the +shot fired, so I ran in to have a look around and see if +anyone was hurt, and I came across this poor little chap +yowling on the doorstep. I won’t want any supper to-night, +Mrs. Quinlan. I’m going out again.”</p> +<p>Within the hour, Morrow presented himself at +Henry Blaine’s office. This time he did not wait to be +told that the famous investigator was out, but writing +something on a card, he sent it in to the confidential +secretary.</p> +<p>In a moment he was admitted, to find Blaine seated +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196' name='page_196'></a>196</span> +imperturbably behind his desk, fingering the card his +young operative had sent in to him.</p> +<p>“What is it, Guy?” he asked, not unkindly. “You +say you have a communication of great importance.”</p> +<p>“I think it is, sir,” returned the other, stiffly. “At +least I have the message which warned Brunell of your +raid upon his shop. It’s another cipher, a different one +this time.”</p> +<p>“Indeed? That’s good work, Guy. But how did +you know it was a warning to old Jimmy of the raid? +Could you read it?”</p> +<p>Morrow shook his head.</p> +<p>“No, and I don’t see how anyone else could! It +must have been a warning of some sort, for it was what +caused them both, old Jimmy and his daughter, to run +away. Here it is.”</p> +<p>He passed the cryptogram over to his chief, who +studied it for a while with a meditative frown, then laid +it aside and listened in a non-committal silence to his +story. When the incidents of the day had been narrated, +Blaine said:</p> +<p>“That was a close call, Guy, that shot from the darkness. +It must have come from the opposite side of the +street, of course, from before your own lodgings. The +bullet glanced upward in its course, didn’t it?”</p> +<p>“No, sir. That’s the funny part of it! The spot +where it is embedded in the wall is very little higher than +the hole in the window pane.”</p> +<p>“And Mrs. Quinlan’s, where you board, is directly +opposite?”</p> +<p>“Yes. It’s the only house on the other side of the +street for fifty feet or more on either side.”</p> +<p>“Then you’d better look out for trouble, Guy. That +shot came from your own house, probably from the window +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197' name='page_197'></a>197</span> +of your own room, if it is the second floor front, as +you say. There’s a traitor in camp. Any new lodgers +to-day that you know of?”</p> +<p>“No, sir,” Morrow replied, startled at the theory +evolved by his chief. “But how do you account for +the fact that I distinctly heard some one running away +immediately after the shot was fired?”</p> +<p>“It was probably a look-out, or a decoy to draw investigation +away from the house had a prompt pursuit +ensued. Be careful when you go back, Guy, and don’t +take any unnecessary chances.”</p> +<p>“I’m not going back, sir,” the younger man returned, +with quiet determination. “I’m sorry, but I’m +through. I wanted to resign before, to protect the +woman I love from just this trouble which has come +upon her, but you overruled me, and I listened and +played the game fairly. Now I’ve lost her, and nothing +else matters under the sun except that I must find her +again and tell her the truth, and I mean to find her! +Nothing shall stand in my way!”</p> +<p>“And your duty?” asked Blaine quietly.</p> +<p>“My duty is to her first, last, and all the time! I +know I have no right, sir, to ask that I should be +taken into your confidence in regard to any plans you +make in conducting an investigation, but I think in view +of the exceptional conditions of this case that I might +have been told in advance of the raid you intended, so +that I might have spared Emily much of the trouble +which has come upon her, or at least have told her the +truth, and squared myself with her, and known where +she was going. I’ve got to find her, sir! I cannot rest +until I do!”</p> +<p>“And you shall find her, Guy. I promise you on my +word that if you are patient all will be well. It is not +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198' name='page_198'></a>198</span> +my custom to explain my motives to my subordinates, +but as you say, this case is exceptional, and you have +been faithful to your trust under peculiarly trying circumstances. +I raided Jimmy’s little shop last night and +carried off his forgery outfit because I had received +special information of a confidential nature that Paddington +intended to make the same move and lay it to +the work of the police, not only to scare poor old Jimmy +out of town, but to obtain possession of the outfit himself +and destroy the evidence, in case the old forger was +caught and lost his spirit and confessed, implicating +him. I did not know the raid would be discovered and +the warning take effect so soon. I had arranged to +have the Brunells watched and tailed later in the day, +but they escaped my espionage.</p> +<p>“I shall at once set the wheels in motion to discover +the number of the taxicab in which they went away, and +I will leave no stone unturned to find their ultimate +destination and see that no harm comes to either of +them; you may depend upon that. I don’t mind going +a little further with this subject with you now than I +have before, and I’ll tell you confidentially that I believe +whatever part Jimmy played in this conspiracy, in +forging the letter, note, and signatures, was a compulsory +one; and in the end we shall be able to clear him. +You know that I am a man of my word, Guy. I want +you to go on with this case under my instructions and +leave the search for the Brunells absolutely in my hands. +Will you do this, on my assurance that I will find +them?”</p> +<p>“If I can have your word, sir, that at the earliest +possible moment I may go to her, to Emily, and tell her +the truth,” Morrow replied, earnestly. “You don’t +know what it means to me, to have her feel that I have +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199' name='page_199'></a>199</span> +been such a dog as not to mean a word of all that I said +to her, to have her believe that it was all part of a plan +to trap her into betraying her father. It drives me almost +mad when I think of it! This inaction, the suspense +of it, is intolerable.”</p> +<p>“Then go home and find out who fired at you from +the window of your own house. Watch the Brunell +cottage, too––there will be developments there, if I’m +not mistaken. To-morrow I may want you to go out +on another branch of this investigation––the search +for Ramon Hamilton.”</p> +<p>“Very good, sir, I’ll try,” Morrow promised with obvious +reluctance. “I know how busy you are and how +much every day counts in this matter just now; but for +God’s sake, do what you can to find the Brunells for +me!”</p> +<p>Blaine repeated his assurances, and Morrow returned +to the Bronx with considerably lightened spirits. +The sight of the little cottage across the way, dark +and deserted, brought a pang to his heart, but it also +served to remind him of the duty which lay before him. +He must find out whose hand had fired that shot at him +from the house which had given him shelter.</p> +<p>Mrs. Quinlan had not yet retired. He found her +reading a newspaper in the kitchen, with Caliban curled +up in drowsy content beside the stove.</p> +<p>“Cold out, ain’t it?” she observed. “I went round +to the store, an’ I like to’ve froze before I got back. +They said they’d send the things, but they didn’t.”</p> +<p>“I’ll go get them for you,” offered Morrow. “Was +it the grocery to which you went?”</p> +<p>“No, the drug store. I––I’ve got a new lodger upstairs +at the back––an old gentleman who’s kind of +sickly and rheumatic, and he asked me to get some +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200' name='page_200'></a>200</span> +things for him. Thank you just the same, Mr. Morrow, +but there ain’t no hurry for them.” Mrs. Quinlan’s +wide, ingenuous face flushed, and for a moment she +seemed curiously embarrassed. Could she have guessed +that the revolver shot which had created so much excitement +that afternoon had been fired from beneath her +roof?</p> +<p>“A new lodger!” repeated Morrow. “Came to-day, +didn’t he?”</p> +<p>“No, yesterday,” she responded quickly––too +quickly, the operative fancied. The ruddy flush had +deepened on her cheek, and she added, as if unable to +restrain the question rising irresistibly to her lips: +“What made you think he came to-day?”</p> +<p>“I thought this afternoon that I heard furniture being +moved about in the room directly over mine,” he returned, +with studied indifference.</p> +<p>“Oh, you did!” Mrs. Quinlan affirmed. “That’s +my room, you know. I was exchanging my bureau for +the old gentleman’s.”</p> +<p>“Let me see; that makes four lodgers now, doesn’t +it?” Morrow remarked thoughtfully, as he toasted his +back near the stove. “Peterson, the shoe clerk; Acker, +the photographer; me––and now this old gentleman. +What’s his name, by the way?”</p> +<p>“Mr.––Brown.” Again there was that obvious hesitation, +followed by a hasty rush of words as if to cover +it. “Yes, my house is full now, and I think I’m +mighty lucky, considering the time of year. Just think, +it’s most Christmas! The winter’s just flyin’ along!”</p> +<p>The next morning, from his bed Morrow heard the +clinking of china on a tray as Mrs. Quinlan laboriously +carried breakfast upstairs to her new boarder. Guy +rose quickly and dressed, and when he heard her descending +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201' name='page_201'></a>201</span> +again he flung open his door and met her face +to face, quite as if by accident. She started violently +at the sudden encounter and nearly dropped the tray.</p> +<p>“Land sakes, how you scared me, Mr. Morrow!” she +exclaimed. “You’re up earlier than usual. I’ll have +your breakfast ready in the dining-room in ten minutes.”</p> +<p>She hurried on quickly, but not before the operative’s +keen eyes had noted in one lightning glance the +contents of the tray. Upon it was a teapot, as well +as one for coffee, and service for two. Peterson and +Acker had both long since gone to their usual day’s +work. Mrs. Quinlan had lied, then, after all. She +had two new lodgers instead of the single rheumatic old +gentleman she had pictured; two, and one of them had +entered his own room, and from the window fired that +shot across the street at him, as he bent over the lamp +in the Brunell cottage. He had one problematic advantage––it +was possible that he had not been recognized +as the intruder in the deserted house. He must +contrive by hook or crook to obtain a glimpse of the +mysterious newcomers, and learn the cause of their interest +in the Brunells and their affairs. They were in +all probability emissaries of Paddington’s––possibly +one of them was Charley Pennold himself.</p> +<p>At that same moment Henry Blaine sat in his office, +receiving the report of Ross, one of his minor operatives.</p> +<p>“I tried the tobacconist’s shop yesterday morning, +sir, but there wasn’t any message there for Paddington, +and although I waited around a couple of hours he +didn’t show up,” Ross was saying. “This morning, +however, I tried the same stunt, and it worked. I +wasn’t any too quick about it, either, for Paddington +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202' name='page_202'></a>202</span> +was just after me. I strolled in, asked for a package of +Cairos and gave the man the office, as you told me. He +handed it over like a lamb, and I walked out with it, +straight to that little café across the way. I had four +of the boys waiting there, and my entrance was a signal +to them to beat it over and buy enough tobacco to keep +the shopkeeper busy while I made a getaway from the +dairy-lunch place. I only went three doors down, to a +barber’s, and while I was waiting my turn there I +watched the street from behind a newspaper.</p> +<p>“In about ten minutes Paddington came along, walking +as if he was in quite a hurry. He went into the +tobacconist’s, but he came out quicker than he had entered, +and his face was a study––purple with rage one +minute, and white with fear the next. I don’t believe he +knows yet who’s tailing him, sir, but he looks as if he +realized we had him coming and going. He went +straight over to the little restaurant, with murder in his +eye, but he only stayed a minute or two. I tailed him +home to his rooms, and he stamped along at first as if he +was so mad he didn’t care whether he was followed or +not. When he got near his own street, though, he got +cautious again, and I had all I could do to keep him +from catching me on his trail––he’s a sharp one, when +he wants to be, and he’s on his mettle now.”</p> +<p>“I know the breed. He’ll turn and fight like any +other rat if he’s cornered, but meanwhile he’ll try at any +cost to get away from us,” Blaine responded. “You +have him well covered, Ross?”</p> +<p>“Thorpe is waiting in a high-powered car a few +doors away, Vanner in a taxi, and Daly is on the job +until I get back. He won’t take a step to-day without +being tailed,” the operative answered, confidently. +“Here’s the cigarette box, sir. I opened it as soon as +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203' name='page_203'></a>203</span> +I got in the restaurant, to see if it was the real goods +and not a plant, as you instructed. It’s the straight +tip, all right. There were no cigarettes inside, only +this single sheet of paper covered with little marks––looks +like music, only it isn’t. I don’t know much +about sight-reading, but some of those figures couldn’t +be played on any instrument!”</p> +<p>Henry Blaine opened the little box and drew from it +the bit of folded paper, which he spread out upon the +desk before him. A glance was sufficient to show him +that it was another cryptic message, similar to that +which Guy Morrow had found in the Brunells’ deserted +cottage, and which he had vainly studied until far into +the night.</p> +<p>“Very good, Ross. Get back on the job, now, and +report any developments as soon as you have an opportunity.”</p> +<p>When the operative had gone, Blaine drew forth the +cryptogram received the previous evening and compared +the two. They were identical in character, although +from the formation of the letters and figures, +the message each conveyed was a different one. The +first had baffled him, and he scrutinized the second with +freshly awakened interest:</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_5' id='linki_5'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/png209.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 366px; height: 65px;' /><br /> +</div> +<p>The three lines fascinated him by their tantalizing +problem, and he could not take his eyes from them. +The musical notes could be easily read in place of letters, +of course, with the sign of the treble clef as a basic +guide, but the other figures still puzzled him.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204' name='page_204'></a>204</span></div> +<p>All at once, a word upon the lowest line which explained +itself caught his eye; then another and another, +until the method of deciphering the whole message burst +upon his mind. One swift gesture, a few eagerly +scrawled calculations, and the truth was plain to him.</p> +<p>Calling his secretary, he hastily dictated a letter.</p> +<p>“I want a copy of that sent at once, by special delivery, +to every physician and surgeon in town, no matter +how obscure. See to it that not one is overlooked. +Even those on the staffs of the different hospitals must +be notified, although they are the least likely to be called +upon. Above all, don’t forget the old retired one, those +of shady professional reputation and the fledglings just +out of medical colleges. It’s a large order, Marsh, but +it’s bound to bring some result in the next forty-eight +hours.”</p> +<p>With the closing of the door behind his secretary, +Henry Blaine rose and paced thoughtfully back and +forth the length of his spacious office. The problem +before him was the most salient in its importance of any +which had confronted him during his investigation of the +Lawton mystery––probably the weightiest of his entire +career. Should he, dared he, throw caution to the +winds and step out into the open, in his true colors at +last?</p> +<p>It was as if he held within his hands the kernel of the +mystery, yet surrounded still by an invulnerable shield +of cunning and duplicity with which the master criminals +had so carefully safe-guarded their conspiracy. He +held it within his hands, and yet he could not break +the shell of the mystery and expose the kernel of truth +to justice. There seemed to be no interstice, no crevice +into which he might insert the keen probe of his marvelous +deductive power. And yet his experience told him +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_205' name='page_205'></a>205</span> +that there must be some rift, some hiatus in the scheme. +If only he could discover that rift, could prove beyond +a shadow of a doubt the facts which he had circumstantially +established, he would not hesitate to lay his +hands upon the culprits, high in power and influence +throughout the country as they were, and bring them +before any court of so-called justice, however it might +be undermined by bribery and corruption.</p> +<p>He had accomplished much, working as a mole works, +in the dark. Could he not accomplish more by declaring +himself; could he not by one bold stroke lay bare +the heart of the mystery?</p> +<p>Seating himself again at his desk, he took the telephone +receiver from its hook and called up Anita <a name='TC_6'></a><ins title="Was ''Lawnot'' in the original text">Lawton</ins> +at her home––not upon the private wire he had had +installed for her, but on the regular house wire.</p> +<p>“Oh, Mr. Blaine, what is it! Have you found him? +Have you news for me of Ramon?” Her voice, faint +and high-pitched with the hideous suspense of the days +just past, came to him tremulous with eagerness and an +abiding hope.</p> +<p>“No, Miss Lawton, I am sorry to say that I have +not yet found Mr. Hamilton, but I have definite information +that he still lives, at least,” he returned. “I +hope that in a few days, at most, I may bring him to +you.”</p> +<p>“Thank heaven for that!” she responded fervently. +“I have tried so hard to believe, to have faith that he +will be restored to me, and yet the hideous doubt will +return again and again. These days and nights have +been one long, ceaseless torture!”</p> +<p>“You have taken my advice in regard to receiving +your visitors?”</p> +<p>“Oh, yes, Mr. Blaine. My three guardians have +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_206' name='page_206'></a>206</span> +been unremitting in their attentions, particularly Mr. +Rockamore, who calls daily. He has just left me.”</p> +<p>“Miss Lawton, I have decided that the time has come +for us to declare ourselves openly––not in regard to +the mystery of your father’s insolvency, but concerning +the disappearance of Ramon Hamilton. I want you to +call his mother up on the telephone as soon as I ring off, +and tell her that you have resolved to retain me, on +your account, to find him for you. Should she put forward +any objections, over-rule her and refuse to listen. +I will be with you in an hour. In the meantime, should +anyone call, you may tell them that you have just retained +me to investigate the disappearance of your +fiancé. Tell that to anyone and everyone; the more +publicity we give to that fact the better. The moment +has arrived for us to carry war into the enemy’s camp, +and I know that we shall win! Keep up your courage, +Miss Lawton! We’re done with maneuvering +now. You’ve borne up bravely, but I believe your +period of suspense, in regard to many things, is past. +Before this day is done, they will know that we are in this +to fight to the finish––and to fight to win!”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_207' name='page_207'></a>207</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XV_CHECKMATE' id='CHAPTER_XV_CHECKMATE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> +<h3>CHECKMATE!</h3> +</div> +<p class="dropcap" ><span class="dcap">Henry Blaine</span> was allowed scant opportunity +for reflection, in the hour which intervened between +his telephone message to Anita and the +time of his appointment with her. Scarcely had he +hung up the receiver once more when his secretary announced +the arrival of Fifine Déchaussée.</p> +<p>Had not Blaine been already aware of her success +with Paddington, as the scene in the park an evening or +two previously denoted, he would have been instantly +apprised by her manner that something of vital import +had occurred. There was an indefinable change, a +subtle metamorphosis, which was conveyed even in her +appearance. Her delicate, Madonna-like face had lost +its wax-like pallor and was flushed with a faint, exquisite +rose; the wooden, slightly vacant expression was +gone; she walked with a lissome, conscious grace which +he had not before observed, and the slow, enigmatic +smile with which she greeted him held much that was +significant behind it.</p> +<p>“You did not keep your appointment with me yesterday––why, +mademoiselle?” asked Blaine, quietly.</p> +<p>“Because it was impossible, m’sieu,” she returned. +“I could not get away. Madame––the wife of M’sieu +Franklin––would not allow me to leave the children. +This is the first opportunity I have had to come.”</p> +<p>“And what have you to report?” he asked, watching +her narrowly.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_208' name='page_208'></a>208</span></div> +<p>She shrugged her shoulders.</p> +<p>“Very little, M’sieu Blaine. Yesterday the president +of the Street Railways, M’sieu Mallowe, called on +the minister, and remained for more than an hour. I +could not hear their conversation––they were in the +library; but just as M’sieu Mallowe was taking his departure +I passed through the hall, and heard him say:</p> +<p>“‘You must try to persuade her, Mr. Franklin; you +have more influence over her than anyone else, even I. +Miss Lawton must really go away for a time. It is +the only thing that will save her health, her reason! +She can do nothing here to aid in the search for young +Hamilton, and the suspense is killing her. Try to get +her to take our advice and go away, if only for a few +days.’”</p> +<p>“What did Dr. Franklin reply?”</p> +<p>“I did not hear it all. I could not linger in the hall +without arousing suspicion. Dr. Franklin agreed that +Miss Lawton was ill and should go away, and he said he +would try to induce her to go––that M’sieu Mallowe +was undoubtedly right, and he was delighted that he +took such an interest in Miss Lawton.”</p> +<p>She paused, and after a moment Blaine asked:</p> +<p>“And that is all?”</p> +<p>“Yes, m’sieu.” The French girl half turned as if to +take her departure, but he stayed her by a gesture.</p> +<p>“You have nothing else to report? How about Paddington?” +He shot the question at her tersely, his +eyes never leaving her face, but she did not flinch.</p> +<p>“M’sieu Paddington?” she repeated demurely. “I +have nothing to tell you of him.”</p> +<p>“You didn’t try, then, to lead him on, as I suggested––to +get him to talk about Miss Lawton, or the people +who were employing him? You have not seen him?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_209' name='page_209'></a>209</span></p> +<p>“M’sieu Blaine, I could not do that!” she cried, ignoring +his last question. “I would do much, anything +that I could for Miss Lawton, but she would be the last +to ask of me that I should lead a man on to––to make +love to me, in order to betray him! I will do anything +that is possible to find out for Miss Lawton and for you, +m’sieu, all that I can by keeping my ears open in the +house of the minister, but as to M’sieu Paddington––I +will not play such a rôle with any man, even to please +Miss Lawton.”</p> +<p>“Yet you have been meeting him in the park.” The +detective leaned forward in his chair and spoke gently, +as if merely reminding the girl of some insignificant +fact which she had presumably forgotten, yet there was +that in his tone which made her stiffen, and she replied +impulsively, with a warning flash of her eyes:</p> +<p>“What do you mean, m’sieu? How do you know? +I––I told you I had nothing to report concerning +M’sieu Paddington, nothing which could be of service to +Miss Lawton, and it is quite true. I––I did meet +M’sieu Paddington in the park, but it was simply an +accident.”</p> +<p>“And was the locket and chain an accident, too? +That locket which you are wearing at the present moment, +mademoiselle?”</p> +<p>“The locket––” Her hand strayed to her neck and +convulsively clasped the bauble of cheap, bright gold +hanging there. “What do you know of my locket, +M’sieu Blaine?”</p> +<p>“I know that Paddington purchased it for you two +or three days ago––that he gave it to you that night +in the park, and you allowed him to take you in his +arms and kiss you!”</p> +<p>“Stop! How can you know that!” she stormed at +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_210' name='page_210'></a>210</span> +him, stepping forward slightly, a deep flush dyeing her +face. “He did not tell you! You have had me +watched, followed, spied upon! It is intolerable! To +think that I should be treated as if I were unworthy of +trust. I have been faithful, loyal to Miss Lawton, but +this is too much! I have not questioned M’sieu Paddington; +I know nothing of his affairs, but I like him, +I––I admire him very much, and if I desire to meet +him, to receive his attentions, I shall do so. I am not +harming Miss Lawton, who has been my <i>patronne</i>, my +one friend in this strange, big country. M’sieu Paddington +does not know that I am working at Dr. Franklin’s +under your instructions, and I shall never betray +to him the confidence Miss Lawton has reposed in me. +But I shall do no more; it is finished. That I should be +suspected––”</p> +<p>“But you are not, my dear young woman!” interposed +Blaine, mildly. “It was not you who was followed, +spied upon, as you call it. For Miss Lawton’s +sake, because she is in trouble, we are interested just +now in Paddington’s movements, and naturally my operative +was not aware that it was to meet you he went to +the park.”</p> +<p>“<i>N’importe!</i>” Fifine exclaimed. The color had receded +from her face, and a deathly white pallor had +superseded it. She retreated a step or two, and continued +defiantly: “This afternoon I resign from the +service of Dr. Franklin! I do not believe that M’sieu +Paddington is an enemy of Miss Lawton; nothing shall +make me believe that he, who is the soul of honor, of +chivalry, would harm her, or cause her any trouble, and +I do not like this work, this spying and treachery and +deceit! That is your profession, m’sieu, not mine; I +only consented because Miss Lawton had been kind to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_211' name='page_211'></a>211</span> +me, and I desired to aid her in her trouble, if I could. +But that he––that I––should be suspected and +watched, and treated like criminals, oh, it is insufferable. +To-day, also, I leave the Anita Lawton Club. You +shall find some one else to play detective for you––you +and Miss Lawton!”</p> +<p>With an indignant swirl of her skirts, she turned and +made for the door, in a tempest of rage; but on the +threshold his voice stayed her.</p> +<p>“Wait! Miss Lawton has befriended you, and now, +because of a man of whom you know nothing, you desert +her cause. Is that loyalty, mademoiselle? We +shall not ask you to remain at Dr. Franklin’s any +longer; Miss Lawton does not wish unwilling service +from anyone. But for your own sake, go back to the +club, and remain there until a position is open to you +which is to your liking. You are a young girl in a +strange country, as you say, and at least you know the +club to be a safe place for you. Do not trust this man +Paddington, or anyone else; it is not wise.”</p> +<p>“I shall not listen to you!” she cried, her voice rising +shrill and high-pitched in her excitement. “You +shall not say such things of M’sieu Paddington! He +is brave and good, while you––you are a spy, an +eavesdropper, a delver into the private affairs of others. +I do not know what this trouble may be, which Miss +Lawton is in, and I am sorry for her, that she should +suffer, but I shall have nothing more to do with the case, +nor with you, m’sieu! <i>Au revoir!</i>”</p> +<p>“Whew!” breathed Blaine to himself, as the door +closed after her with a slam. “What a firebrand! She +may not have actually betrayed us to Paddington in so +many words, but it isn’t necessary to look far for the +one who warned him that he was being watched, and put +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_212' name='page_212'></a>212</span> +him on his guard, all unknowingly, that the whole +scheme in which he is so deeply involved, was in jeopardy. +Oh, these women! Let them once lose their +heads over a man, and they upset all one’s plans!”</p> +<p>Blaine arrived promptly within the hour at the house +on Belleair Avenue. Anita Lawton received him as before +in the library. He observed with deep concern +that she was a mere shadow of her former self. The +slenderness which had been one of her girlish charms had +become almost emaciation; her eyes were glassily bright, +and in the waxen pallor of her cheeks a feverish red spot +burned.</p> +<p>She smiled wanly as he pressed her hand, and her +pale lips trembled, but no words came.</p> +<p>“My poor child!” the great detective found himself +saying from the depths of his fatherly heart. “You +are positively ill! This will never do. You are not +keeping your promise to me.”</p> +<p>“I am trying hard to, Mr. Blaine.” Anita motioned +toward a chair and sank into another with a little gasp +of sheer exhaustion. “You have never failed yet, and +you have given me your word that you would bring +Ramon back to me. I try to have faith, but with every +hour that passes, hope dies within me, and I can feel +that my strength, my will to believe, is dying, too. I +know that you must be doing your utmost, exerting +every effort, and yet I cannot resist the longing to urge +you on, to try to express to you the torture of uncertainty +and dread which consumes me unceasingly. +That my father’s fortune is gone means nothing to me +now. Only give me back Ramon alive and well, and I +shall ask no more!”</p> +<p>“I hope to be able to do that speedily,” Blaine returned. +“As I told you over the telephone, I have +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_213' name='page_213'></a>213</span> +positive proof that he is alive, and a definite clue as to +his whereabouts. You must ask me nothing further +now––only try to find faith in your heart for just a +few days, perhaps hours, longer. You ’phoned to Mrs. +Hamilton, as I suggested?”</p> +<p>“Yes. She demurred at first, dreading the notoriety, +and not––not appearing to believe in your +ability as I do, but I simply refused to listen to her objections. +Mr. Carlis called me up shortly afterward, +and wanted to know if I would be able to receive him +this afternoon, on a matter connected with my finances, +but I told him I had retained you to search for Ramon, +and was expecting you at any moment. He seemed +greatly astonished, and warned me of the––he called +it ‘useless’––expense. He begged me not to be impatient, +to wait until I had time to think the matter over +and consult himself and Mr. Mallowe, saying that they +were both doing all that could be done to locate Ramon, +and Mr. Rockamore was, also, but I told him it was too +late, that you were on your way here.”</p> +<p>“That was right. I am glad you told him. The +fact that you have retained me to search for Mr. Hamilton +will appear as a scoop in every evening paper which +he controls, now, and the more publicity given to it, +the better. You told me over the ’phone that Mr. +Rockamore calls upon you every day?”</p> +<p>“Yes. I try to be cordial to him, but for some +reason which I can’t explain I dislike him more than +either of the others. I don’t know why he comes so +often, for he says very little, only sits and stares at that +chair––the chair in which my father died––until I +feel that I should like to scream. It seems to exert +the same strange, uncanny influence over him as it does +over me––that chair. More than once, when he has +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_214' name='page_214'></a>214</span> +been announced, I have entered to find him standing +close beside it, looking down at it as if my father were +seated there once more and he was talking to him, +I don’t in the least know why, but the thought seems +to prey on my mind––perhaps because the chair fascinates +me, too, in a queer way that is half repulsion.”</p> +<p>“You are morbid, Miss Lawton––you must not allow +such fancies to grow, or they will soon take possession +of you, in your weakened state, and become an +obsession. Tell me, have you heard anything from the +club girls we established in your guardian’s offices?”</p> +<p>“Oh, yes! I had forgotten completely in my excitement +and joy over your news of Ramon, vague though +it is, that there was something important which I wanted +to tell you. Since Margaret Hefferman’s dismissal, +all my girls have been sent away from the positions I +obtained for them––all except Fifine Déchaussée.”</p> +<p>“And she resigned not an hour ago,” remarked the +detective rather grimly, supplementing the fact, with as +many details as he thought necessary.</p> +<p>Anita listened in silence until he had finished.</p> +<p>“Poor girl! Poor Fifine! What a pity that she +should fancy herself in love with such a man as you describe +this Paddington to be! She must be persuaded +to remain in the club, of course; we cannot allow her to +leave us now. I feel responsible for her, and especially +so since it was indirectly because of me, or while she was +in my service, at any rate, that she met this man. If +she is all that you say, she could never be happy if she +married him.”</p> +<p>“There’s small chance of that. He has a wife already. +She left him years ago, and runs a boarding-house +somewhere on Hill Street, I believe,” Blaine replied. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_215' name='page_215'></a>215</span> +“I don’t fancy he’ll add bigamy to the rest of +his nefarious acts. But tell me of the other girls. +They did not report to me.”</p> +<p>“Poor little Agnes Olson was dismissed yesterday. +She is a spineless sort of creature, you know, without +much self-assurance, or initiative, and I believe she had +quite a scene with Mr. Carlis before she left. She was +on the switchboard, if you remember, and as well as I +was able to understand from her, he caught her listening +in on his private connection. She reached the club +in an hysterical condition, and I told them to put her +to bed and care for her. I ought to be there myself +now, at work, for I have lost my best helper, but I am +too distraught over Ramon to think of anything else. +My secretary––the girl you saw there at the club and +asked me about, do you remember?––did not appear +yesterday, but telephoned her resignation, saying she +was leaving town. I cannot understand it, for I would +have counted on her faithfulness before any of the rest, +but so many things have happened lately which I can’t +comprehend, so many mysteries and disappointments +and anxieties, that I can scarcely think or feel any +more. It seems as if I were really dead, as if my emotions +were all used up. I can’t cry, even when I think +of Ramon––I can only suffer.”</p> +<p>“I know. I can imagine what you must be trying +to endure just now, Miss Lawton, but please believe that +it will not last much longer. And don’t worry about +your secretary; Emily Brunell will be with you again +soon, I think.”</p> +<p>“Emily Brunell!” repeated Anita, in surprise. +“You know, then?”</p> +<p>“Yes. And, strange as it may seem, she is indirectly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_216' name='page_216'></a>216</span> +concerned in the conspiracy against you, but innocently +so. You will understand everything some day. +What about the Irish girl, Loretta Murfree?”</p> +<p>“President Mallowe’s filing clerk? He dismissed her +only this morning, on a trumped-up charge of incompetence. +He has been systematically finding fault with +her for several days, as if trying to discover a pretext +for discharging her, so she wasn’t unprepared. She’s +here now, having some lunch, up in my dressing-room. +Would you like to talk with her?”</p> +<p>“I would, indeed,” he assented, nodding as Anita +pressed the bell. “She seemed the brightest and most +wide-awake young woman of the lot. If anyone could +have obtained information of value to us, I fancy she +could. Did she have anything to say to you about Mr. +Mallowe?”</p> +<p>“I would rather she told you herself,” Anita replied, +hesitatingly, with the ghost of a smile. “Whatever she +said about him was strictly personal, and of a distinctly +uncomplimentary nature. There is nothing spineless +about Loretta!”</p> +<p>When the young Irish girl appeared in response to +Anita’s summons, her eyes and mouth opened wide in +amazement at sight of the detective.</p> +<p>“Oh, sir, it’s you!” she exclaimed. “I was going +down to your office this afternoon, to tell you that I had +been discharged. Mr. Mallowe himself turned me off +this morning. I’m not saying this to excuse myself, +but it was honestly through no fault of mine. The old +man––gentleman––has been trying for days to get +rid of me. I knew it, so I’ve been especially careful in +my work, and cheerful and smiling whenever he appeared +on the scene––like this!”</p> +<p>She favored them with a grimace which was more like +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_217' name='page_217'></a>217</span> +the impishly derisive grin of a street urchin than a respectful +smile, and continued:</p> +<p>“This morning I caught him mixing up the letters +in the files with his own hands, and when he blamed me +for it later, I saw that it was no use. He was bound to +get rid of me in some way or another, so I didn’t tell him +what I thought of him, but came away peaceably––which +is a lot to ask of anybody with a drop of Irish +blood in their veins, in a case like that! However, I +learned enough while I was in that office, of his manipulations +of the street railway stock, to make me glad I’ve +got a profession and am not sitting around waiting for +dividends to be paid. If the people ever wake up, and +the District Attorney indicts him, I hope to goodness +they put me on the stand, that’s all.”</p> +<p>“Why has he tried to get rid of you? Do you think +he suspected the motive for your being in his employ?” +asked Blaine, when she paused for breath.</p> +<p>“No, he couldn’t, for I never gave him a chance,” +she responded. “He’s a sly one, too, padding around +the offices like a cat, in his soft slippers; and he looks +for all the world like a cat, with the sleek white +whiskers of him! Excuse me, Miss Lawton, I don’t +mean to be disrespectful, but he’s trying, the old gentleman +is! I think he got suspicious of me when Margaret +Hefferman made such a botch of her job with Mr. +Rockamore, and yesterday afternoon when Mr. Carlis +caught Agnes Olson listening in––oh, I know all about +that, too!––he got desperate. That’s why he mixed +up the files this morning, for an excuse to discharge +me.”</p> +<p>“How did you know about Agnes Olson?” asked +Blaine quickly. “Did she tell you?”</p> +<p>“No, I heard it from Mr. Carlis himself!” returned +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_218' name='page_218'></a>218</span> +Loretta, with a reminiscent grin. “He came right +straight around to Mr. Mallowe and told him all about +it, and a towering rage he was in, too! ‘Do you think +the little devil’s sold us?’ he asked. Meaning no disrespect +to you, Miss Lawton, it was you he was talking +about, for he added: ‘She gets her girls into our offices +on a whining plea of charity, and they all turn out +crooked, spying and listening in, and taking notes. +Remember Rockamore’s experience with the one he took? +Do you suppose that innocent, big-eyed, mealy-mouthed +brat of Pennington Lawton’s suspects us?’</p> +<p>“‘Hold your tongue, for God’s sake!’ old Mr. Mallowe +growled at him. ‘I’ve got one of them in there, a +filing clerk.’”</p> +<p>“‘Then you’d better get rid of her before she tries +any tricks,’ Mr. Carlis said. ‘I believe that girl is +deeper than she looks, for all her trusting way. I always +did think she took the news of her father’s bankruptcy +too d––n’ calmly to be natural, even under the +circumstances. Kick her protégée out, Mallowe, unless +you’re looking for more trouble. I’m not.’”</p> +<p>“What did Mr. Mallowe reply?” Blaine asked.</p> +<p>“I don’t know. His private secretary came into the +office where I was just then, and I had to pretend to be +busy to head off any suspicion from him. Mr. Carlis +left soon after, and I could feel his eyes boring into the +back of my neck as he passed through the room. Mr. +Mallowe sent for me almost immediately, to find an old +letter for him, from one of the files of two years ago, +and it was funny, the suspicious, worried way he kept +watching me!”</p> +<p>“There is nothing else you can tell us?” the detective +inquired. “Nothing out of the usual run happened +while you were there?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_219' name='page_219'></a>219</span></div> +<p>“Nothing, except that a couple of days ago, he had +an awful row with a man who called on him. It was +about money matters, I think, and the old gentleman got +very much excited. ‘Not a cent!’ he kept repeating, +louder and louder, until he fairly shouted. ‘Not one +more cent will you get from me. This systematic extortion +of yours must come to an end here and now! +I’ve done all I’m going to, and you’d better understand +that clearly.’ Then the other man, the visitor, got +angry, too, and they went at it hammer and tongs. At +last, Mr. Mallowe must have lost his head completely, +for he accused the other man of robbing his safe. At +that, the visitor got calm and cool as a cucumber, all of +a sudden, and began to question Mr. Mallowe. It +seems from what I heard––I can’t recall the exact +words––that not very long ago, the night watchman in +the offices was chloroformed and the safe ransacked, but +nothing was taken except a letter.</p> +<p>“‘You’re mad!’ the strange man said. ‘Why in +h––l should anybody take a letter, and leave packets of +gilt-edged bonds and other securities lying about untouched?’</p> +<p>“‘Because the letter happens to be one you would +very much like to have in your possession, Paddington,’ +the old gentleman said. Oh, I forgot to tell you that +the visitor’s name was Paddington, but that doesn’t matter, +does it? ‘Do you know what it was?’ Mr. Mallowe +went on. ‘It was a certain letter which Pennington +Lawton wrote to me from Long Bay two years ago. +Now do you understand?’”</p> +<p>“‘You fool!’ said Paddington. ‘You fool, to keep +it! You gave your word that you would destroy it! +Why didn’t you?’</p> +<p>“‘Because, I thought it might come in useful some +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_220' name='page_220'></a>220</span> +day, just as it has now,’ the old gentleman fairly whined. +‘It was good circumstantial evidence.’</p> +<p>“‘Yes––fine!’ Paddington said, with a bitter kind +of a laugh. ‘Fine evidence, for whoever’s got it now!’</p> +<p>“‘You know very well who’s got it!’ cried Mr. Mallowe. +‘You don’t pull the wool over my eyes! And I +don’t mean to buy it back from you, either, if that’s +your game. You can keep it, for all I care; it’s served +its purpose now, and you won’t get another penny from +me!’</p> +<p>“Well, I wish you could have heard them, then!” +Loretta continued, with gusto. “They carried on terribly; +the whole office could hear them. It was as good +as a play––the strange man, Paddington denying +right up to the last that he knew anything about the +robbery, and Mr. Mallowe accusing him, and threatening +and bluffing it out for all he was worth! But in the +end, he paid the man some money, for I remember he insisted +on having the check certified, and the secretary +himself took it over to the bank. I don’t know for what +amount it was drawn.”</p> +<p>“Why didn’t you tell me that before, Loretta?” +asked Anita, reproachfully. “I mean, about the––the +names Mr. Carlis called me, and his suspicions. I wish +I’d known it half an hour ago, when he telephoned to +me!”</p> +<p>“That’s just why I didn’t tell you, Miss Lawton!” +responded Loretta, with a flash of her white teeth.</p> +<p>“Mr. Blaine told me to report to him this afternoon, +and I meant to, but he didn’t tell me to talk to anyone +else, even you. When you asked me to undertake this +for you, you said I was to do just what Mr. Blaine directed, +and I’ve tried to. It was on the tip of my +tongue to tell you, but I thought I’d better not, at least +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_221' name='page_221'></a>221</span> +until I had seen Mr. Blaine. I was sure that if I said +anything to you about it, you would let Mr. Carlis see +your resentment the next time he called, and then he and +Old Mr. Mallowe would get their heads together, and +find out that their suspicions of all of us girls were correct. +You wouldn’t want that.”</p> +<p>“Miss Murfree is quite right,” Blaine interposed. +“You must be very careful, Miss Lawton, not to allow +Mr. Carlis to discover that you know anything whatever +of that conversation––at least just yet.”</p> +<p>“I’ll try, but it will be difficult, I am afraid,” Anita +murmured. “I am not accustomed to––to accepting +insults. Ah! if Ramon were only here!”</p> +<p>Wilkes, the butler, appeared at the door just then, +with a card, and Anita read it aloud.</p> +<p>“Mr. Mallowe.”</p> +<p>“Oh, gracious, let me go, Miss Lawton!” exclaimed +Loretta. “I’ve told you everything that I can think +of, and if he sees me, it will spoil Mr. Blaine’s plans, +maybe?”</p> +<p>“Yes, he must not find you here!” the detective +agreed hurriedly. “I’ll communicate with you at the +club if I need you again, Miss Murfree. You have +been of great service to both Miss Lawton and myself.”</p> +<p>When they were alone for the moment before the +street-railway president appeared, Blaine turned to +Anita.</p> +<p>“You will try to be very courageous, and follow +whatever lead I give you?” he asked. “This interview +may prove trying for you.”</p> +<p>Anita had only time to nod before Mr. Mallowe stood +before them. He paused for a moment, glanced inquiringly +at Blaine and then advanced to Anita with outstretched +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_222' name='page_222'></a>222</span> +hand. If he had ever seen the detective before, +he gave no sign.</p> +<p>“My dear child!” he murmured, unctuously. “I +trust you are feeling a little stronger this afternoon––a +little brighter and more hopeful?”</p> +<p>“Very much more hopeful, thank you, Mr. Mallowe,” +returned the young girl, steadily. “I have enlisted in +my cause the greatest of all investigators. Allow me to +present Mr. Henry Blaine.”</p> +<p>“Mr. Blaine,” Mallowe repeated, bowing with supercilious +urbanity. “Do I understand that this is the +private detective of whom I have heard so much?”</p> +<p>Blaine returned his salutation coolly, but did not +speak, and Anita replied for him.</p> +<p>“Yes, Mr. Mallowe, Mr. Blaine is going to find Ramon +for me!”</p> +<p>Mallowe shook his head slowly, with a mournful smile.</p> +<p>“Ah! my dear!” he sighed. “I do not want to +dampen your hopes, heaven knows, but I very much fear +that that will be an impossible task, even for one of Mr. +Blaine’s unquestioned renown.”</p> +<p>“Still, it is always possible to try,” the detective returned, +looking levelly into Mallowe’s eyes. “Personally, +I am very sanguine of success.”</p> +<p>“Everything is being done that can be of any use +now,” the other man observed hurriedly. “Do I understand, +Mr. Blaine, that Miss Lawton has definitely retained +you on this case?”</p> +<p>Blaine nodded, and Mallowe turned to Anita.</p> +<p>“Really, my dear, you should have consulted me, or +some other of your father’s old friends, before taking +such a step!” he expostulated. “It will only bring +added notoriety and trouble to you. I do not mean to +underestimate Mr. Blaine’s marvelous ability, which is +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_223' name='page_223'></a>223</span> +recognized everywhere, but even he can scarcely succeed +in locating Mr. Hamilton where we, with all the resources +at our command, have failed. Mark my words, +my dear Anita; if Ramon Hamilton returns, it will be +voluntarily, of his own free will. Until––unless he so +decides, you will never see him. It is too bad to have +summoned Mr. Blaine here on a useless errand, but I am +sure he quite understands the situation now.”</p> +<p>“I do,” responded the detective quietly. “I have accepted +the case.”</p> +<p>“But surely you will withdraw?” The older man’s +voice rose cholerically. “Miss Lawton is a mere girl, +a minor, in fact––”</p> +<p>“I am over eighteen, Mr. Mallowe,” interposed Anita +quietly.</p> +<p>“Until your proper guardian is appointed by the +courts,” Mallowe cried, “you are nominally under my +care, mine and others of your father’s closest associates. +This is a delicate matter to discuss now, Mr. Blaine,” he +added, in calmer tones, turning to the detective, “but +since this seems to be a business interview, we must touch +upon the question of finances. I know that the fee you +naturally require must be a large one, and I am in duty +bound to tell you that Miss Lawton has absolutely no +funds at her disposal to reimburse you for your time +and trouble. Whatever fortune she may be possessed +of, she cannot touch now.”</p> +<p>“Miss Lawton has already fully reimbursed me––in +advance,” returned Henry Blaine calmly. “That question +need cause you no further concern, Mr. Mallowe, +nor need you have any doubt as to my position in this +matter. I’m on this case, and I’m on it to stay! I’m +going to find Ramon Hamilton!”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_224' name='page_224'></a>224</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVI_THE_LIBRARY_CHAIR' id='CHAPTER_XVI_THE_LIBRARY_CHAIR'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2> +<h3>THE LIBRARY CHAIR</h3> +</div> +<p class="dropcapq" ><small>“</small><span class="drop">P</span><span class="dcap">addington’s</span> on the run!” Ross, the operative, +announced to Henry Blaine the next +morning, jubilantly. “He left his rooms +about an hour after I got back on the job, and went to +Carlis’ office. He only stayed a short time, and came +out looking as black as a thunder-cloud&ndash;&ndash;I guess the +interview, whatever it was, didn’t go his way. He went +straight from there to Rockamore, the promoter. I pretended +an errand with Rockamore, too, and so got into +the outer office. The heavy glass door was closed between, +and I couldn’t hear anything but a muffled growling +from within, but they were both angry enough, all +right. Once the stenographer went in and came out +again almost immediately. When the door opened to +admit her, I heard Paddington fairly shout:</p> +<p>“‘It’s your own skin you’re saving, you fool, as well +as mine! If I’m caught, you all go! Carlis thinks he +can bluff it, and Mallowe’s a superannuated, pig-headed +old goat. He’ll try to stand on his reputation, +and cave in like a pricked balloon when the crash +comes. I know his kind; I’ve hounded too many of ’em +to the finish. But you’re a man of sense, Rockamore, +and you know you’ve got to help me out of this for your +own sake. I tell you, some one’s on to the whole game, +and they’re just sitting back and waiting for the right +moment to nab us. They not only learn every move we +make––they anticipate them! It’s every man for himself, +now, and I warn you that if I’m cornered in this––’</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_225' name='page_225'></a>225</span></div> +<p>“‘Hold your tongue!’ Rockamore ordered. ‘Can’t +you see––’</p> +<p>“Then the door closed, and I couldn’t hear any more. +The voices calmed down to a rumble, and in about twenty +minutes I could hear them approaching the door. I +decided I couldn’t wait any longer, and got outside just +in time to give Paddington a chance to pass me. He +seemed in good humor, and I guess he got what he was +after––money, probably, for he went to his bank and +put through a check. Then he returned to his rooms, +and didn’t show up again until late afternoon, when he +went away up Belleair Avenue, to the rectory of the +Church of St. James. He didn’t go in––just talked +with the sexton in the vestibule, and when he came down +the steps he looked dazed, as if he’d received a hard jolt +of some sort. He couldn’t have been trying to blackmail +the minister, too, could he?”</p> +<p>“Hardly, Ross. Go on,” Blaine responded. +“What did he do next?”</p> +<p>“Nothing. Just went back to his rooms and stayed +there. It seemed as if he was afraid to leave––not so +much afraid to be found, but as if he might miss something, +if he left. He even had his dinner sent in from a +restaurant near there. Knowing him, I might have +known what it was he was waiting for––he’s always +chasing after some girl or other.”</p> +<p>“There was a woman in it, then?” asked the detective, +quietly.</p> +<p>“You can bet there was––very much in it, sir!” +the operative chuckled. “She came along while I +watched––a tall, slim girl, plainly dressed in dark +clothes, but with an air to her that would make you +look at her twice, anywhere. She hesitated and looked +uncertainly about her, as if she were unfamiliar with the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_226' name='page_226'></a>226</span> +place and a little scary of her errand, but at last she +made up her mind, and plunged in the vestibule, as if she +was afraid she would lose her courage if she stopped to +think.</p> +<p>“For a few minutes her shadow showed on the window-shades, +beside Paddington’s. They stood close together, +and from their gestures, he seemed to be arguing +or pleading, while she was drawing back and refusing, +or at least, holding out against him. At last they +fell into a regular third-act clinch––it was as good as +a movie! After a moment she drew herself out of his +arms and they moved away from the window. In a +minute or two they came out of the house together, and +I tailed them. They walked slowly, with their heads +very close, and I didn’t dare get near enough to try +to hear what they were discussing so earnestly. But +where do you suppose he took her? To the Anita Lawton +Club for Working Girls! He left her at the entrance +and went back to his own rooms, and he seemed +to be in a queer mood all the way––happy and up in +the air one minute, and down in the dumps the next.</p> +<p>“He didn’t stir out again last night, but early this +morning he went down to the office of the Holland-American +line, and purchased two tickets, first-class to +Rotterdam, on the <i>Brunnhilde</i>, sailing next Saturday, so +I think we have the straight dope on him now. He +means to skip with the girl.”</p> +<p>“Saturday––two days off!” mused Blaine. “I +think it’s safe to give him his head until then, but keep +a close watch on him, Ross. The purchase of those +tickets may have been just a subterfuge on his part to +throw any possible shadow off the trail. Did you ascertain +what name he took them under?”</p> +<p>“J. Padelford and wife.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_227' name='page_227'></a>227</span></div> +<p>“Clever of him, that!” Blaine commented. “If he +really intends to fool this girl with a fake marriage and +sail with her for the other side, he can explain the +change of names on the steamer to her by telling her it +was a mistake on the printed sailing-list. Once at sea, +without a chance of escape from him, he can tell her +the truth, or as much of it as he cares to, and she’ll +have to stick; that type of woman always does. She +might even come in time to take up his line, and become +a cleverer crook than he is, but we’re not going to let +that happen. We’ll stop him, right enough, before he +goes too far with her. What’s he doing now?”</p> +<p>“Walking in the park with her. She met him at +the gates, and Vanner took the job there of tailing +them, while I came on down to report to you.”</p> +<p>“Good work, Ross. But go back and take up the +trail now yourself, if you’re fit. And here, you’d better +take this warrant with you; I swore it out against +him several days ago, in case he attempted to bolt. If +he tries to get the girl into a compromising situation, +arrest him. Let me know if anything of importance +occurs meanwhile.”</p> +<p>As Ross went out, the secretary, Marsh, appeared.</p> +<p>“There’s an elderly gentleman outside waiting to see +you, sir,” he announced. “He does not wish to give +his name, but says that he is a physician, and is here in +answer to a letter which he received from you.”</p> +<p>“Good! They pulled it off, then! We were only +just in time with those letters we sent out yesterday, +Marsh. Show him in at once.”</p> +<p>In a few moments a tall, spare figure appeared in the +doorway, and paused an instant before entering. He +had a keen, smooth-shaven, ascetic face, topped with a +mass of snow-white hair.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_228' name='page_228'></a>228</span></div> +<p>“Come in, Doctor,” invited the detective. “I am +Henry Blaine. It was good of you to come in response +to my letter. I take it that you have something interesting +to tell me.”</p> +<p>The doctor entered and seated himself in the chair +indicated by Blaine. He carried with him a worn, old-fashioned +black leather instrument case.</p> +<p>“I do not know whether what I have to tell you will +prove to have any connection with the matter you referred +to in your letter or not, Mr. Blaine. Indeed, I +hesitated about divulging my experience of last night +to you. The ethics of my profession––”</p> +<p>“My profession has ethics, too, Doctor, although +you may not have conceived it,” the detective reminded +him, quietly. “Even more than doctor or priest, a +professional investigator must preserve inviolate the secrets +which are imparted to him, whether they take the +form of a light under a bushel or a skeleton in a closet. +In the cause of justice, only, may he open his lips. I +hold safely locked away in my mind the keys to mysteries +which, were they laid bare, would disrupt society, +drag great statesmen from their pedestals, provoke international +complications, even bring on wars. If you +know anything pertaining to the matter of which I +wrote you, justice and the ethics of your profession require +you to speak.”</p> +<p>“I agree with you, sir. As I said, I am not certain +that my adventure––for it was quite an adventure for +a retired man like myself, I assure you––has anything +to do with the case you are investigating, but we can +soon establish that. Do you recognize the subject of +this photograph?”</p> +<p>The doctor drew from his pocket a small square bit +of cardboard, and Blaine took it eagerly from him. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_229' name='page_229'></a>229</span> +One glance at it was sufficient, and it was with difficulty +that the detective restrained the exclamation of triumph +which rose to his lips. Upon the card was +mounted a tiny, thumbnail photograph of a face––the +face of Ramon Hamilton! It was more like a death-mask +than a living countenance, with its rigid features +and closed eyes, but the likeness was indisputable.</p> +<p>“I recognize it, indeed, Doctor. That is the man +for whom I am searching. How did it come into your +possession?”</p> +<p>“I took it myself, last night.” The spare figure of +the elderly physician straightened proudly in his chair. +“When your communication arrived, I did not attach +much importance to it because it did not occur to me +for a moment that I should have been selected, from +among all the physicians and surgeons of this city, for +such a case. When the summons came, however, I remembered +your warning––but I anticipate. Since my +patient of last night is your subject, I may as well tell +you my experiences from the beginning. My name is +Alwyn––Doctor Horatius Alwyn––and I live at +Number Twenty-six Maple Avenue. Until my retirement +seven years ago I was a regular practising physician +and surgeon, but since my break-down––I +suffered a slight stroke––I have devoted myself to my +books and my camera––always a hobby with me.</p> +<p>“Well––late last night, the front door-bell rang. +It was a little after eleven, and my wife and the maid +had retired, but I was developing some plates in the +dark-room, and opened the door myself. Three men +stood there, but I could see scarcely anything of their +faces, for the collars of their shaggy motor coats were +turned up, their caps pulled low over their eyes, and +all three wore goggles.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_230' name='page_230'></a>230</span></div> +<p>“‘Doctor Alwyn?’ asked one of the men, the burliest +of the three, advancing into the hall. ‘I want you +to come out into the country with me on a hurry call. +It’s a matter of life and death, and there’s five thousand +dollars in it for you, but the conditions attached to it +are somewhat unusual. May we come into your office, +and talk it over?’</p> +<p>“I led the way, and listened to their proposition. +Briefly, it was this: a young man had fallen and injured +his head, and was lying unconscious in a sanitarium in +the suburbs. There were reasons which could not be +explained to me, why the utmost secrecy must be maintained, +not only concerning the young man’s identity, +but the location of the retreat where he was in seclusion. +They feared that he had suffered a concussion +of the brain, possibly a fractured skull, and my diagnosis +was required. Also, should I deem an operation +necessary, I must be prepared to perform it at once. +They would take me to the patient in the car, but when +we reached our destination, I was to be blindfolded, and +led to the sickroom, where the bandage would be removed +from my eyes. I was to return in the same manner. +For this service, and of course my secrecy, they +offered me five thousand dollars.</p> +<p>“Although that would not have been an exorbitant +sum for me to obtain for such an operation in the +days of my activities, it looked very large to me now, +especially since some South American securities in +which I invested had declined, but I did not feel that +it would be compatible with my dignity and standing to +accept the conditions which were imposed. I was, +therefore, upon the point of indignantly declining, when +I suddenly remembered your letter, and resolved to see +the affair through.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_231' name='page_231'></a>231</span></div> +<p>“It occurred to me, while I was selecting the instruments +to take with me, that it would not be a bad idea +to take also my latest camera, and if possible obtain a +photograph of the patient to show you. I managed +to slip it into my vest pocket, unobserved by my visitors. +Here it is.”</p> +<p>Dr. Alwyn took the instrument case upon his knee +and opening it, produced what looked like a large old-fashioned +nickel-plated watch of the turnip variety. The +doctor extended it almost apologetically.</p> +<p>“You see,” he observed, “it is really more a toy +than a real camera, although it served admirably last +night. I have had a great deal of amusement with it, +pretending to feel people’s pulses, but in reality snapping +their photographs. It takes very small, imperfect +pictures, of course, as you can see from the print +there on your desk, and only one to each loading, but it +can be carried in the palm of one’s hand, and it uses a +peculiarly sensitive plate that will register a snap-shot +even by electric light. It had fortunately just been +reloaded before the advent of my mysterious visitors, +and I resolved to make use of it if an opportunity offered.</p> +<p>“The curtains were tightly drawn in the car, and +as the interior lights had been extinguished, we sat in +total darkness. I could not, of course, tell in what +direction we were going, although the car had been +pointed south when we left my door. We appeared to +be travelling at a terrific rate of speed and swung around +a confusing number of curves.</p> +<p>“I tried at first to remember the turns, and their +direction, but there were so many that I very soon lost +count. I think they took me in a round-about way +purposely, to confuse me. I have no idea how long +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_232' name='page_232'></a>232</span> +we drove, but it must have been well over two hours. +At last we struck a long up-grade, and one of my companions +announced that we were almost there.</p> +<p>“They bound my eyes with a dark silk handkerchief, +and a moment later the car swerved and turned abruptly +in, evidently at a gateway, for we curved about up a +graveled driveway––I could hear it crunching beneath +the wheels––and came to a grinding stop before the +door. They helped me out of the car, up some shallow +stone steps and across the threshold.</p> +<p>“I was led down a thickly carpeted hall and up a single +long flight of stairs, to a door just at its head. We +entered; the door closed softly behind us; and the bandage +was whipped from my eyes. There was only a low +night-light burning in the room, but I made out the +outlines of the furniture. There was a great bed over +in the corner, with a motionless figure lying upon it.</p> +<p>“‘There’s your patient, Doc; go ahead,’ my burly +friend said, and accordingly I approached the bed, asking +at the same time for more light. The young man +was unconscious, and in answer to a question of mine +the attendant who had sat at the head of the bed as we +entered informed me that he had been in a complete +state of coma since he had been brought there, several +days before.</p> +<p>“I remembered the description in your letter of the +subject for whom you were searching, and I fancied, in +spite of the bandages which swathed his head, that I +recognized him in the young man before me. The +lights flashed on full in answer to my request, and on +a sudden decision I drew the watch camera from my +pocket, took the patient’s wrist between my thumb and +finger as if to ascertain his pulse, and snapped his picture. +The result was a fortunate chance, for I did not +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_233' name='page_233'></a>233</span> +dare focus deliberately, with the eyes of the attendant +and the three men who had accompanied me, all directed +at my movements.</p> +<p>“Then I gave the patient a thorough examination. +I found a fracture at the base of the brain––not necessarily +fatal, unless cerebral meningitis sets in, but +quite serious enough. He was still bleeding a little +from the nose and ears. I washed them out, and +packed the ears with sterile gauze, leaving instructions +that a specially prepared ice cap be placed at once upon +his head and kept there. That was all which could be +done at that time, but the patient should have constant, +watchful attention. He must either have suffered +a severe backward fall, or received a violent blow +at the base of the skull, to have sustained such an injury.</p> +<p>“When I had finished, they blindfolded me again, led +me from the room, and conveyed me home in the same +manner in which I had come, with the possible exception +that the car in returning seemed to take a different and +more direct route; the journey appeared to be a much +shorter one, with fewer twists and turns. The same +three men came back to the house with me, and entered +my <a name='TC_7'></a><ins title="Was ''offce'' in the original text">office</ins>, where the burly one turned over to me ten five-hundred-dollar +bills. They left almost immediately, +and although it was close on to dawn, I went into my +dark room, and developed the negative of the thumbnail +photograph I had taken.</p> +<p>“The events of the night had been so extraordinary +that when I did retire, it was long before I could sleep. +In the morning, I made a couple of prints from the +negative, then took the five thousand dollars down and +deposited it to my account in the bank.”</p> +<p>“When I decided to come here, I ran over in my +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_234' name='page_234'></a>234</span> +mind every moment of the previous night’s adventure, +to catalogue my impressions. The habit of years has +made me methodical in all things, and I jotted them +down in the order in which they occurred to me, that I +might not forget to relate them to you. Memory plays +one sad tricks, sometimes, when one reaches my age. +These notes may be of no assistance to you, sir, but +they are entirely at your service.”</p> +<p>“I am eager to hear them, Doctor. I only wish all +witnesses were like you––my tasks would be lightened +by half,” Blaine said, heartily.</p> +<p>The elderly physician drew from his pocket a paper, +at which he peered, painstakingly.</p> +<p>“I have numbered them. Let me see––oh, yes. +First, the burly man walks with a slight limp in the +right leg. Second, of the two men with him, all I +could note was that one spoke with a decided French +accent and had a hollow cough, tuberculous, I think; +the other, who scarcely uttered a word, was short and +stocky, and of enormous strength. He fairly lifted me +into and out of the car when I was blindfolded at the +entrance of the place they called a sanitarium. Third, +the car had a peculiar horn; I have never heard one +like it before. Its blast was sharp and wailing, not +like a siren, but more like the howl of a wounded animal. +I would know it again, anywhere. Fourth, there +is a railroad bridge very near the house to which I was +taken––I distinctly heard two trains thunder over the +trestles while I was attending my patient. Fifth, I +should judge the place to be more of a retreat for alcoholics +or the insane, than for those suffering from accident, +or any form of physical injury. A patient in +some remote part of the house was undoubtedly a maniac +or in the throes of an attack of delirium tremens. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_235' name='page_235'></a>235</span> +I heard his cries at intervals as I worked, until he +quieted down finally.</p> +<p>“Sixth, the bedroom where my patient is lying is on +the second floor, the windows facing south and east; +there was a moon last night, and one of the curtains +was partly raised. His door is just at the head of the +stairs on your right as you go up, and the stairs are +on a straight line with the front door––therefore the +house faces south. Seventh, when we returned to my +home, and were in my office, the burly man had to pull +the glove off his right hand to get the wallet from his +pocket in order to pay me my fee, and I saw that two +fingers were missing––they had both been amputated +at the middle joint. Also, when they were leaving, I +heard the man who spoke with an accent address him as +‘Mac.’”</p> +<p>“Mac! It’s three-fingered Mac Alarney, by the +Lord!” Blaine started from his chair. “Why did I +not think of him before! Doctor, you have rendered +to me and to my client an invaluable service, which +shall not be forgotten. Mac Alarney is a retired prize-fighter, +in close touch with all the political crooks and +grafters in the city. He runs a sort of retreat for +alcoholics up near Green Valley, and bears a generally +shady reputation. Are you game to go back with me +to-night for another call on your patient? You will +be well guarded and in no possible danger, now or for +the future. I give you my word for that. I may need +you to verify some facts.”</p> +<p>The doctor hesitated visibly.</p> +<p>“I am not afraid,” he replied, at last, “but I +scarcely feel that it is conformable with the ethics of +my calling. I was called in, in my professional capacity––”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_236' name='page_236'></a>236</span></div> +<p>“My dear Doctor,” the detective interrupted him +with a trace of impatience in his tones, “your patient +is one of the most widely known young men of this city. +He was kidnaped, and the police have been searching +for him for days. The press of the entire country has +rung with the story of his mysterious disappearance. +He is Ramon Hamilton.”</p> +<p>“Good heavens! Can it be possible!” the physician +exclaimed. “I assure you, sir, I had no idea of his +identity. He was to have married Pennington Lawton’s +daughter, was he not? I have read of his disappearance, +of course; the newspapers have been full +of it. And he was kidnaped, you say? No wonder +those ruffians maintained such secrecy in regard to +their destination last night! Mr. Blaine, I will accompany +you, sir, and give you any aid in my power, +in rescuing Mr. Hamilton!”</p> +<p>“Good! I’ll make all the necessary arrangements +and call for you to-night at eight o’clock. Meanwhile, +keep a strict guard upon your tongue, and say nothing +to anyone of what has occurred. Have you told your +wife of your adventure?”</p> +<p>“No, Mr. Blaine; I merely told her I was out on a +sudden night call. I decided to wait until I had seen +you before mentioning the extraordinary features of +the case.”</p> +<p>“You are a man of discretion, Doctor! Until eight +o’clock, then. You may expect me, without fail.”</p> +<p>Doctor Alwyn left, and Blaine spent a busy half-hour +making his arrangements for the night’s raid. +Scarcely had he completed them when the telephone +shrilled. The detective did not at first recognize the +voice which came to him over the wire, so changed was +it, so fraught with horror and a menace of tragedy.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_237' name='page_237'></a>237</span></div> +<p>“It is you, Miss Lawton?” he asked, half unbelievingly. +“What is the matter? What has happened?”</p> +<p>“I must see you at once, <i>at once</i>, Mr. Blaine! I +have made a discovery so unexpected, so terrible, that +I am afraid to be alone; I am afraid of my own +thoughts. Please, please come immediately!”</p> +<p>“I will be with you as soon as my car can reach +your door,” he replied.</p> +<p>What could the young girl have discovered, shut up +there in that great lonely house? What new developments +could have arisen, in the case which until this +moment had seemed plain to him to the end?</p> +<p>He found her awaiting him in the hall, with ashen +face and trembling limbs. She clutched his hand with +her small icy one, and whispered:</p> +<p>“Come into the library, Mr. Blaine. I have something +to tell you––to show you!”</p> +<p>He followed her into the huge, somber, silent room +where only a few short weeks ago her father had met +with his death. Coming from the brilliant sunshine +without, it was a moment or two before his eyes could +penetrate the gloom. When they did so, he saw the +great leather chair by the hearth, which had played +so important a part in the tragedy, had been overturned.</p> +<p>“Mr. Blaine,”––the girl faced him, her voice +steadied and deepened portentously,––“my father died +of heart-disease, did he not?”</p> +<p>The detective felt a sudden thrill, almost of premonition, +at her unexpected question, but he controlled +himself, and replied quietly:</p> +<p>“That was the diagnosis of the physician, and the +coroner’s findings corroborated him.”</p> +<p>“Did it ever occur to you that there might be another +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_238' name='page_238'></a>238</span> +and more terrible explanation of his sudden +death?”</p> +<p>“A detective must consider and analyze a case from +every standpoint, you know, Miss Lawton,” he answered. +“It did occur to me that perhaps your +father met with foul play, but I put the theory from me +for lack of evidence.”</p> +<p>“Mr. Blaine, my father was murdered!”</p> +<p>“Murdered! How do you know? What have you +discovered?”</p> +<p>“He was given poison! I have found the bottle +which contained it, hidden deep in the folds of his +chair there. It was no morbid fancy of mine after +all; my instinct was right! No wonder that chair has +exerted such a horrible fascination for me ever since +my poor father died in it. See!”</p> +<p>With indescribable loathing, she extended her left +hand, which until now she had held clenched behind +her. Upon the palm lay a tiny flat vial, with a pale, +amber-colored substance dried in the bottom of it. +Blaine took it and drew the cork. Before he had time +to place it at his nostrils, a faint but unmistakable +odor of bitter almonds floated out upon the air and pervaded +the room.</p> +<p>“Prussic acid!” he exclaimed. “It has the same +outward effect as an attack of heart-disease would produce, +to a superficial examination. Miss Lawton, how +did you discover this?”</p> +<p>“By the merest accident. I have a habit of creeping +in here, when I am more deeply despondent than +usual, and sitting for a while in my father’s chair. +It calms and comforts me, almost as if he were with +me once more. I was sitting there just before I telephoned +you, thinking over all that had occurred in these +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_239' name='page_239'></a>239</span> +last weeks, when I broke down and cried. I felt for +my handkerchief, but could not find it, and thinking +that I might perhaps have dropped it in the chair, I +ran my hand down deep in the leather fold between the +seat and the side and back. My fingers encountered +something flat and hard which had been jammed away +down inside, and I dug it out. It was this bottle! +Mr. Blaine, does it mean that my father was murdered +by that man whose voice I heard––that man +who came to him in the night and threatened him?”</p> +<p>“I’m afraid it does, Miss Lawton.” Henry Blaine +said slowly. “When you hear that voice again and +recognize it, we shall be able to lay our hands upon the +murderer of your father.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_240' name='page_240'></a>240</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVII_THE_RESCUE' id='CHAPTER_XVII_THE_RESCUE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2> +<h3>THE RESCUE</h3> +</div> +<p class="dropcap" ><span class="dcap">Precisely</span> at the hour of eight that night, a +huge six-cylinder limousine drew up at the gate +of Number Twenty-six Maple Avenue. Half-way +down the block, well in the shadow of the trees which +gave to the avenue its name, two more cars and a motor +ambulance had halted.</p> +<p>Doctor Alwyn, who had been excitedly awaiting the +arrival of the detective, was out of his door and down +the path almost before the car had pulled up at his +gate. Within it were three men––Blaine himself and +two others whom the Doctor did not know. Henry +Blaine greeted him, introduced his operatives, Ross and +Suraci, and they started swiftly upon their journey.</p> +<p>The doctor was plainly nervous, but something in +the grim, silent, determined air of his companions imparted +itself to him. The lights in the interior of the +car had not been turned on, nor the shades lowered, +and after a few tentative remarks which were not encouraged, +Doctor Alwyn turned to the window and +watched the brightly lighted cross streets dart by with +ever-increasing speed. Once he glanced back, and +started, casting a perturbed glance at the immovable +face of the detective, as he remarked:</p> +<p>“Mr. Blaine, are you aware that we are being followed?”</p> +<p>“Oh, yes. Give yourself no uneasiness on that +score, Doctor. They are two of my machines, filled +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_241' name='page_241'></a>241</span> +with my men, and a Walton ambulance for Mr. Hamilton. +We will reach Mac Alarney’s retreat in an hour, +now. There will be a show of trouble, of course, and +we may have to use force, but I do not anticipate any +very strenuous opposition to our removal of your +patient, when Mac is convinced that the game is up. +No harm will come to you, at any rate; you will be well +guarded.”</p> +<p>The Doctor drew himself up with simple dignity, +quite free from bombast or arrogance.</p> +<p>“I am not afraid,” he replied, quietly. “I am +armed, and am fully prepared to help protect my +patient.”</p> +<p>“Armed?” the detective asked, sharply.</p> +<p>For answer, Doctor Alwyn drew from his capacious +coat pocket a huge, old-fashioned pistol, and held it +out to Blaine. The latter took it from him without +ceremony.</p> +<p>“A grave mistake, Doctor. I am glad you told me, +in time. Fire-arms are unnecessary for your own protection, +and would be a positive menace to our plans +for getting your patient safely away. Gun-play is +the last thing we must think of; my men will attend +to all that, if it comes to a show-down.”</p> +<p>The Doctor watched him in silence as he slipped the +pistol under one of the side seats. If his confidence +in the great man beside him faltered for the moment, +he gave no sign, but turned his attention again to the +window. They were now rapidly traversing the suburbs, +where the houses were widely separated by +stretches of vacant lots, and the streets deserted and +but dimly lighted. Soon they rattled over a narrow +railroad bridge, and Doctor Alwyn exclaimed:</p> +<p>“By George! This is the way we went last night! +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_242' name='page_242'></a>242</span> +With all my careful thought, I forgot about that bridge +until this moment!”</p> +<p>Minutes passed, long minutes which seemed like hours +to the overstrained nerves of the Doctor, while they +speeded through the open country.</p> +<p>All at once, from just behind them came a hideous, +wailing cry, which swelled in volume to a screech and +ended abruptly.</p> +<p>Doctor Alwyn grasped Blaine’s arm.</p> +<p>“The motor-horn!” he gasped. “The car I was +in last night!”</p> +<p>The detective nodded shortly, without speaking, and +leaning forward, stared fixedly out of the window. A +long, low-bodied limousine appeared, creeping slowly +up, inch by inch, until it was fairly abreast of them. +The curtain at the window was lowered, and the chauffeur +sat immovable, with his face turned from them, +as the two cars whirled side by side along the hard, +glistening road. Blaine leaned forward, and pressed +the electric bell rapidly twice, and there began a +curious game. The other car put on extra speed and +darted ahead––their own shot forward and kept +abreast of it. It slowed suddenly, and made as if to +swerve in behind; Blaine’s driver slowed also, until both +cars almost came to a grinding halt. Three times these +maneuvers were repeated, and then there occurred what +the detective had evidently anticipated.</p> +<p>The curtain in the other car shot up; the window +descended with a bang and a huge, burly figure leaned +half-way out. Henry Blaine noiselessly lowered their +own window, and suddenly flashed an electric pocket +light full in the heavy-jowled face, empurpled with +inarticulate rage.</p> +<p>“Is that your man?” he asked, quickly.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_243' name='page_243'></a>243</span></div> +<p>“The one with the three fingers! Yes! That’s the +man!” whispered the Doctor, hoarsely.</p> +<p>“That’s Mac Alarney.” Blaine pressed the electric +bell again, and their own car lunged forward in a spurt +of speed which left the other hopelessly behind, although +it was manifestly making desperate efforts to overtake +and pass them.</p> +<p>“Do you suppose he suspected our errand?” the Doctor +asked.</p> +<p>“Suspected? Lord bless you, man, he knows! He +had already passed the two open cars full of my men, +and the ambulance. He’d give ten years of his life to +beat us out and reach his place ahead of us to-night, but +he hasn’t a chance in the world unless we blow out a tire, +and if we do we’ll all go back in the ambulance together, +what’s left of us!”</p> +<p>Even as he spoke, there came a swift change in the +even drone of their engine,––a jarring, discordant note, +slight but unmistakable, and a series of irregular thudding +knocks.</p> +<p>“One of the cylinder’s missing, sir.” Ross turned to +the detective, and spoke with eager anxiety.</p> +<p>“We’ll make it on five.” The quiet confidence in +Blaine’s voice, with its underlying note of grim, indomitable +determination, seemed to communicate itself to the +other men, and no further word was said, although they +all heard the thunder of the approaching car behind.</p> +<p>The Doctor restrained with difficulty the impulse to +look backward, and instead kept his eyes sternly fixed +upon the trees and hedge-rows flying past, more sharply +defined shadows in the lesser dark.</p> +<p>Then, all at once, the shriek of a locomotive burst +upon his ears, and the roar and rattle of a train going +over a trestle.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_244' name='page_244'></a>244</span></div> +<p>“The railroad bridge!” he cried, excitedly. “We’re +there, Mr. Blaine!”</p> +<p>The noise of the passing train had scarcely died away, +when from just behind them the hideous shriek of Mac Alarney’s +motor-horn rose blastingly three times upon +the night air, the last fainter than the others, as if the +pursuing car had dropped back.</p> +<p>“He’s beaten! He couldn’t keep up the pace, much +less better it,” Blaine remarked. “Those three blasts +sounded a warning to the guards of the retreat. It was +probably a signal agreed upon in case of danger. +We’re in for it now!”</p> +<p>They swerved abruptly, between two high stone gateposts, +and up a broad sweep of graveled driveway. +Lights gleamed suddenly in the windows of the hitherto +darkened house, which loomed up gaunt and squarely +defined against the sullen sky.</p> +<p>“Your men, in the other cars––” Doctor Alwyn +stammered, as they came to a crunching stop before the +door. “Will they arrive in time to be of service? +Mac Alarney will reach here first––”</p> +<p>“My men will be at his heels,” returned Blaine, +shortly. “They held back purposely, acting under my +instructions. Come on now.”</p> +<p>He sprang from the car and up the steps, and the +Doctor found himself following, with Ross and Suraci on +either side. The driver turned their car around and +ran it upon the lawn, its searchlight trained on the circling +drive, its engine throbbing like the throat of an +impatient horse.</p> +<p>In response to the detective’s vigorous ring, the door +was opened by a short, stocky man, at sight of whom +the Doctor gave a start of surprise, but did not falter. +The man was clad in the white coat of a hospital attendant, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_245' name='page_245'></a>245</span> +beneath which the great, bunchy muscles of his +shoulders and upper arms were plainly visible.</p> +<p>“Hello, Al!” exclaimed Blaine, briskly.</p> +<p>The veins on the thick bull neck seemed to swell, but +there was no sign of recognition in the stolid jaw. Only +the lower lip protruded as the man set his jaw, and the +little, close-set, porcine eyes narrowed.</p> +<p>“You were a rubber at the Hoffmeister Baths the last +time I saw you,” went on the detective, smoothly, as he +deftly inserted his foot between the door and jamb. +“You remember me, of course. I’m Henry Blaine. +My friends and I have come here to-night on a confidential +errand, and I’d like a word in private with you.”</p> +<p>The man he called “Al” muttered something which +sounded like a disclaimer. Then he caught sight of the +Doctor’s face over Blaine’s shoulder, and a spasm of +black rage seized him.</p> +<p>“Oh, it’s you, is it? You’ve snitched, d––n you! +I’ll do for you, for this!”</p> +<p>He lunged forward, but Blaine, with a strength of +which the Doctor would not a moment before have +thought him possessed, grasped the ex-rubber and flung +him backward, advancing into the hall at the same time, +while his two operatives and the Doctor crowded in behind +him.</p> +<p>“Al” staggered, regained his balance, and came on in +a blind rush, bull neck lowered, long, monkey-like arms +taut and rigid for the first blow. Blaine set himself to +meet it, but it was never delivered. At that instant the +whirring roar of a high-powered car, unmuffled, sounded +in all their ears, and a second machine drew up at the +steps.</p> +<p>Its single passenger flung himself out and bounded +up to the door.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_246' name='page_246'></a>246</span></div> +<p>“What in h––l does this mean?” he bellowed. +“Didn’t you hear my horn?”</p> +<p>He stopped abruptly in sheer amazement, for Blaine +had turned, with beaming face and outstretched hand.</p> +<p>“Mac Alarney!” he exclaimed. “Thank the Lord +you’ve come! This thick-skulled boob wouldn’t give me +time for a word, and every minute is precious! Come +where I can talk to you, quick!”</p> +<p>Then, as if catching sight of the car in which Mac Alarney +had come, for the first time his eyes widened and +he seemed struggling to suppress an outburst of mirth.</p> +<p>“Great guns! Is that <i>your</i> car, yours? Do you +mean to tell me it was you I was playing with, back there +on the road? When I flashed the light in your face I +was sure you were Donnelley!”</p> +<p>As he uttered the name of the Chief of Police, Mac Alarney +involuntarily stepped backward, and a wave of +startled apprehension swept the amazement from his +face, to be succeeded in turn by the primitive craftiness +of the brute instinct on guard.</p> +<p>“And what may you be wanting here, Mr. Blaine?” +he demanded, warily.</p> +<p>“To beat the police to it!” Blaine replied in a gruff +whisper, adding as he jerked his thumb in the direction +of the waiting Al. “Get rid of him! We haven’t got +a minute, I tell you!”</p> +<p>“The police!” repeated the other man, sharply. +“Sure, I passed two cars full of plain-clothes bulls, with +an ambulance trailing them!––You can go now, Al.”</p> +<p>Without giving the burly proprietor of the retreat +time to discover him for himself, Blaine pulled the astonished +Doctor forward.</p> +<p>“Here’s Doctor Alwyn, whom you brought here last +night. The police trailed you, and got his number, but +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_247' name='page_247'></a>247</span> +fortunately when they began to question him, he smelled +a rat in the whole business and came to me. They told +him a man named Paddington had double-crossed you, +but of course I knew that was all rot, the minute I’d +doped it out. You’ve got a fortune under your roof +this minute, and you don’t know it, Mac! That’s the +best joke of all! You’re entertaining an angel unawares!”</p> +<p>“Say, what’re you gettin’ at, Mr. Blaine?” Mac +Alarney’s brows drew close together, and he stared levelly +from beneath them at the detective’s exultant face.</p> +<p>“That young man with the fractured skull in the +corner room upstairs––the one you brought Doctor +Alwyn to attend last night––when you know who he +is you’re going up in the air! I don’t know who brought +him here, or what flim-flam line of talk they gave you, +but it’s a wonder you haven’t guessed from the start who +he was, with the papers full of it for days! Of course +they must have given you a lot of money to get him well, +and hush it all up, when you were able to pay the Doctor, +here, five thousand dollars, but whatever they paid, +it’s a drop in the bucket compared to the reward they +expected to get. Mac, it’s Ramon Hamilton you’ve got +upstairs!”</p> +<p>Blaine stepped back himself, as if the better to observe +the effect of what he manifestly seemed to believe would +be astounding news, and clumsily and cautiously the +other tried to play up to his lead.</p> +<p>“Ramon Hamilton!” he echoed. “You’re crazy, +Blaine! You don’t know what you’re talking about!”</p> +<p>“You’d better believe I do! See this photograph?” +He held the tiny thumbnail picture before Mac Alarney’s +amazed eyes. “The Doctor took it last night, at the +bedside of the young man upstairs, when you thought he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_248' name='page_248'></a>248</span> +was feeling his pulse. That watch of his was in reality +a camera.”</p> +<p>With a roar, the burly man turned upon the erect, unshrinking +figure of the gray-haired doctor, but Blaine +halted him.</p> +<p>“Not so fast, Mac. If it hadn’t been for him, you’d +be in the hands of the police now, remember, and they’ve +only been waiting to get something on you, as you know. +You can’t blame Doctor Alwyn for being suspicious, +after all the mysterious fuss you made bringing him here. +I know Ramon Hamilton well, and I recognized his face +the instant it was handed to me! I’m on the case, myself––Miss +Lawton, the girl he’s going to marry, +engaged me. I might have come and tried to take him +away from you, so as to cop all the reward myself, but +as it is, we’ll split fifty-fifty––unless the police get here +while we’re wasting time talking! Man, don’t you see +how you’ve been done?”</p> +<p>“You can bet your life I do––that is, if the young +man I’ve got upstairs is the guy you think he is,” he +added, in an afterthought of cautious self-protection. +The acid of the hint that Paddington had betrayed him +to the police had burned deep, however, as Blaine had +anticipated, and he walked blindly into the snare laid for +him. “I’ll tell you all about how he come to be here, +later, and I’ll fix them that tried to pull the wool over +my eyes! Now, for the love of Heaven, Mr. Blaine, +tell me what to do with him before the bulls come! +Thank God, they can search the rest of the place, and +welcome––I’ve got nothin’ here but a half-dozen souses, +and two light-weights, training.”</p> +<p>“That’s all right! You’re safe if we can get him +away without loss of time. That ambulance you saw +don’t belong to the police; it’s mine. I saw them first, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_249' name='page_249'></a>249</span> +away back in the outskirts of the city, and I ordered it +to drop behind and take the short cut up through Wheelbarrow +Lane. It’s waiting now under the clump of elms +by the brook, up the road a little––you know the spot! +Bring him down and we’ll take him there in my car. +You come too, of course, and Al, and help load him into +the ambulance. Then Al can come back, if you don’t +want to trust him, and you go on with us, back to the +city.”</p> +<p>“Where you goin’ to take him?” asked Mac Alarney, +warily. “You can’t hide him from them in town.”</p> +<p>“Who’s talking about hiding him!” Blaine demanded, +with contemptuous impatience. “Your brain must be +taking a rest cure, Mac! We’ll go straight to Miss +Lawton, deliver the goods and get the reward, before +they beat us to it! It’ll be easy to explain matters to +her; she won’t care much about the story as long as she’s +got him again alive, and at that you’ve only got to stick +to the truth, and I’m right there to back you up in it. +Any fool could realize that you’d have produced him and +claimed the reward, if you had known who he actually +was. Whoever brought him here gave you the wrong +dope and you fell for it, that’s all––For the Lord’s +sake, hurry!”</p> +<p>“You’re right, Mr. Blaine. It’s the only thing to do +now. I fell for their dope, all right, but they’ll fall +harder before I’m through with them! Lend me your +two men, here. There’s no use having any of mine except +Al get wise. You and the Doctor wait in the car, +and we’ll bring him out.”</p> +<p>Henry Blaine motioned to his operatives, with a curt +wave of his hand, to follow Mac Alarney, and turning, he +went out of the door and down the steps to his car, with +the Doctor at his heels.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_250' name='page_250'></a>250</span></div> +<p>“You don’t suppose that he saw through your story, +do you, Mr. Blaine?” the latter queried in an anxious +whisper, as they settled themselves to wait with what +patience they could muster. “Could that suggestion +of his have been merely a ruse to separate your assistants +from you?”</p> +<p>The detective smiled.</p> +<p>“Hardly, Doctor. It’s part of my profession to +have made a study of human nature, and Mac Alarney’s +type is an open book to me. Added to that, I’ve known +the man himself for years, in an offhand way. I’ve got +his confidence, and now that he realizes he is in a hole, +he’s a child in my hands, even if he thinks for the moment +that as a detective I’m about the poorest specimen in +captivity. Steady now, here they come!”</p> +<p>The large double doors had been thrown wide open +and Mac Alarney, the burly Al, and the two operatives +appeared, bearing between them a limp, unconscious, +blanket-swathed form. As they eased it into the back +seat of the limousine, Blaine flashed his electric pocket +light upon the sleeping face.</p> +<p>“I knew I wasn’t mistaken!” he whispered exultantly +to Mac Alarney and the Doctor. “It’s young Hamilton, +all right. Now, let’s be off!”</p> +<p>The others crowded in, and they whirled down the +drive and out once more upon the wide State road, in the +opposite direction to that in which they had come. A +bare half-mile away, and they came abruptly upon the +ambulance, screened by the clump of naked elms at the +side of the road.</p> +<p>“You get in first, Doctor,” ordered Blaine, significantly. +“You’ve got to look after your patient now.”</p> +<p>As the Doctor obeyed, Mac Alarney, with a shrewd +gleam in his eyes, turned to the detective.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_251' name='page_251'></a>251</span></div> +<p>“I think I’d better ride with him, too, Mr. Blaine,” +he observed. “You don’t know who you can trust +these days. Your ambulance driver may give you the +slip.”</p> +<p>“All right, Mac!” Blaine assented, with bluff heartiness. +“We’ll both ride with him! Did you think I’d +try to double-cross you, too? I can’t blame you, after +the rotten deal that’s been handed to you, but we won’t +waste time arguing. Here’s the stretcher. Come on, +shove him in!”</p> +<p>The Doctor had been wondering when the dénouement +of this adventure would be. Now it came without warning, +with a startling suddenness which left him dazed and +agape.</p> +<p>The inert body of his patient was laid carefully beside +him, and he glanced out of the ambulance door in time to +see Mac Alarney dismiss his burly assistant, and turn +to enter the vehicle. His foot was already upon the +lowest step, when the Doctor saw Blaine raise his hand to +his lips. A short, sharp blast of a whistle pierced the +air, and in an instant a dozen men had sprung out of the +darkness and leaped upon the two surprised miscreants. +Then ensued a struggle, brief but awful to the onlooker +in its silent, grim ferocity, as the two separate knots of +men battled each about their central orbit. The scuffle +of many feet on the hard-packed road, the mutter of +curses, the dull thud of blows, the hoarse, strangulated +breathing of men fighting against odds to the last ounce +of their strength, came to the Doctor’s startled ears in a +confused babel of half-suppressed sound, with the purring +drone of the two engines as an undertone.</p> +<p>A minute, and it was all over. The thick-set Al went +down like a felled ox, and Mac Alarney wavered under +an avalanche of blows and crumpled to his knees. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_252' name='page_252'></a>252</span> +Handcuffed and securely bound, the two were bundled +into Blaine’s waiting car.</p> +<p>“Paddington never double-crossed me!” groaned Mac Alarney, +before the door closed upon him. “But you +did, Blaine! Just as I meant to get him, I’ll get you! +I fell for your d––d scheme, and since you’ve got the +goods on me, I suppose I’ll go up, but God help you when +I come out! I can wait––it’ll be the better when it +comes!”</p> +<p>“But the others––” queried the Doctor, as he and +Blaine, with the injured man between them, settled down +in the ambulance for the slow, careful journey back to +the city. “That third man who came for me last night––the +one with the French accent and the cough––and +the rest who are in this kidnaping plot? Will you get +them, too?”</p> +<p>“Ross and Suraci are enough to guard Mac Alarney +and Al on their way to the lock-up,” the detective responded +quietly. “The others will go on up to the sanitarium +and clean the place out. They’ll get French +Louis, all right. And as for the rest who are concerned +in this, Doctor Alwyn, be sure that I intend to see that +they get their just deserts.”</p> +<p>“And it is said that you have never lost a case!” the +Doctor remarked.</p> +<p>“I shall not lose this one.” Blaine spoke with quiet +confidence, unmixed with any boastfulness. “I cannot +lose; there is too much at stake.”</p> +<p>Late that night, Anita Lawton was awakened from a +tortured, feverish dream by the violent ringing of the +telephone bell at her bedside. The voice of Henry +Blaine, fraught with a latent tension of suppressed elation, +came to her over the wire.</p> +<p>“Miss Lawton, I shall come to you in twenty minutes. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_253' name='page_253'></a>253</span> +Please be prepared to go out with me in my car. No, +don’t ask me any questions now. I will explain when I +reach you.”</p> +<p>His arrival found her dressed and restlessly pacing +the floor of the reception-room, in a fever of mingled +hope and anxiety.</p> +<p>“What is it, Mr. Blaine?” she cried, seizing his hand +and pressing it convulsively in both of hers. “You +have news for me! I can read it in your face! Ramon––”</p> +<p>“Is safe!” he responded. “Can you bear a sudden +shock now, Miss Lawton? After all that has gone before, +can you withstand one more blow?”</p> +<p>“Oh, tell me! Tell me quickly! I can endure everything, +if only Ramon is safe!”</p> +<p>“I found him to-night, and brought him back to the +city. I have come to take you to him.”</p> +<p>“But why––why did he not come with you? Does +he not realize what I have suffered––that every moment +of suspense, of waiting for him, is an added torture?”</p> +<p>“He realizes nothing.” Blaine hesitated, and then +went on: “It is best for you to know the truth at once. +Mr. Hamilton has suffered a severe injury. He is lying +almost at the point of death, but the physicians say he +has a chance, a good chance, for recovery, now that he +is where he can receive expert care and attention. How +he came by his shattered skull––he has a fracture at the +base of the brain––we shall not know until he recovers +sufficient consciousness to tell us. At present, he is in a +state of coma, recognizing no one, nothing that goes on +about him. He will not rouse to hear your voice; he +will not know of your presence; but I thought that it +would comfort you to see him, to feel that everything is +being done for him that can be done.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_254' name='page_254'></a>254</span></div> +<p>“Ah, yes!” she sobbed. “Take me to him, Mr. +Blaine! Thank God, thank God that you have found +him! Just to look upon his dear face again, to touch +him, to know that at least he still lives! He must not +die, now; he cannot die! The God who has permitted +you to restore him to me, would not allow that! Take +me to him!”</p> +<p>So it was that a few short minutes later, Henry Blaine +tasted the first real fruit of his victory, as he stood aside +in the quiet hospital room, and with dimmed eyes beheld +the scene before him. The wide, white bed, the silent, +motionless, bandage-swathed figure upon it, the slender, +dark-robed, kneeling girl––only that, and the echo of +her low-breathed sob of love and gratitude. His own +great, fatherly heart swelled with the joy of work well +done, of the happiness he had brought to a spirit all but +broken, and a sure, triumphant premonition that the +struggle still before him would be crowned with victory.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_255' name='page_255'></a>255</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVIII_THE_TRAP' id='CHAPTER_XVIII_THE_TRAP'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> +<h3>THE TRAP</h3> +</div> +<p class="dropcapq" ><small>“</small><span class="drop">Y</span><span class="dcap">ou</span> are ready, Miss Lawton? Nerves steady +enough for the ordeal?” asked Blaine the +following morning.</p> +<p style="clear: both; padding-top: .4em;" >“I am ready.” Anita’s voice was firm and controlled, +and there was the glint of a challenge in her eyes. A +wondrous change had come over her since the previous +day. With the rescue of the man she loved, and the certainty +that he would recover, all the latent, indomitable +courage and fighting spirit which had come to her as an +heritage from her father, and which had made of him the +ruler of men and arbiter of events which he had been, +arose again within her. The most crushing weight upon +her heart had been lifted; hope and love had revivified +her; and she was indeed ready to face the world again, +to meet her enemies, the murderers and traducers of her +father, and to give battle to them on their own ground.</p> +<p>“In a few moments, a man will enter this library––a +man whom you know well. You will be stationed behind +the curtains at this window here, and you must summon +all your self-control to restrain yourself from giving any +start or uttering a sound of surprise which would betray +your presence. While I talk to him, I want you to try +with all your might to put from your mind the fact that +you know him. Do not let his personality influence you +in any way, or his speech. Only listen to the tones of +his voice––listen and try to recall that other voice +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_256' name='page_256'></a>256</span> +which you heard here on the night of your father’s death. +If in his tones you recognize that voice, step from behind +those curtains and face him. If not––and you must be +absolutely sure that you do recognize the voice, that you +could swear to it under oath in a court of justice, realizing +that it will probably mean swearing away a man’s +life––if you are not sure, remain silent.”</p> +<p>“I understand, Mr. Blaine. I will not fail you. I +could not be mistaken; the voice which I heard here that +night rings still in my ears; its echo seems yet to linger +in the room.” Her gaze wandered to the great leather +chair, which had been replaced in its usual position. +“Now that you have restored Ramon to me, I want only +to avenge my father, and I shall be content. To be murdered, +in his own home! Poisoned like a rat in a trap! +I shall not rest until the coward who killed him has been +brought to justice!”</p> +<p>“He will be, Miss Lawton! The trap has been baited +again, and unless I am greatly mistaken, the murderer +will walk straight into it.––There is the bell! I gave +orders that you were to be at home to no one except the +man I expect and that he was to be ushered in here immediately +upon his arrival, without being announced––so +take your place, now, please, behind the curtains. +Do not try to watch the man––only listen with all your +ears; and above all do not betray yourself until the +proper moment comes for disclosing your presence.”</p> +<p>Without a word Anita disappeared into the window-seat, +and the curtains fell into place behind her. The +detective had only time to step in the shadow of a dark +corner beside one of the tall bookcases, when the door +was thrown open. A man stood upon the threshold––a +tall, fair man of middle age, with a small blond mustache, +and a monocle dangling from a narrow black ribbon +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_257' name='page_257'></a>257</span> +about his neck. From the very correct gardenia in +his buttonhole to the very immaculate spats upon his +feet, he was a careful prototype of the Piccadilly exquisite––a +little faded, perhaps, slightly effete, but perfect +in detail. He halted for a moment, as if he, too, were +blinded by the swift change from sunshine to gloom. +Then, advancing slowly, his pale, protruding eyes wandered +to the great chair by the fireplace, and lingered as +if fascinated. He approached it, magnetized by some +spell of his own thoughts’ weaving, until he could have +stretched out his hand and touched it. A pause, and +with a sudden swift revulsion of feeling, he turned from +it in a sort of horror and went to the center-table. +There he stood for a moment, glanced back at the chair, +then quickly about the room, his eyes passing unseeingly +over the shadowy figure by the bookcase. Then he +darted back to the chair and thrust his hand deep into +the fold between the back and seat. For a minute he +felt about with frenzied haste, until his fingers touched +the object he sought, and with a profound sigh of relief +he drew it forth––a tiny flat vial.</p> +<p>He glanced at it casually, his hand already raised +toward his breast-pocket; then he recoiled with a low, +involuntary cry. The vial was filled with a sinister +blood-red fluid.</p> +<p>At that moment Blaine stepped from behind the bookcase +and confronted him.</p> +<p>“You have succeeded in regaining your bottle, haven’t +you, Mr. Rockamore?” he asked, significantly. “Are +you surprised to find within it the blood of an innocent +man?”</p> +<p>Rockamore turned to him slowly, his dazed, horror-stricken +eyes protruding more than ever.</p> +<p>“Blood?” he repeated, thickly, as if scarcely understanding. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_258' name='page_258'></a>258</span> +Then a realization of the situation dawned +upon him, and he demanded, hoarsely: “Who are you? +What are you doing here?”</p> +<p>“My name is Blaine, and I am here to arrest the murderer +of Pennington Lawton,” the detective replied, his +dominant tones ringing through the room.</p> +<p>“Blaine––Henry Blaine!” Rockamore stepped +back a pace or two, and a sneer curled his thin lips, although +his face had suddenly paled. “I’ve heard of +you, of course––the international meddler! What sort +of sensation are you trying to work up now, my man, by +such a ridiculous assertion? Pennington Lawton––murdered! +Why, all the world knows that he died of +heart-disease!”</p> +<p>“All the world seldom knows the truth, but it shall, in +this instance,” returned Blaine, trenchantly. “Pennington +Lawton was murdered––poisoned by a draught +of prussic acid.”</p> +<p>“You’re mad!” Rockamore retorted, insolently. He +tossed the incriminating little vial carelessly on the blotter +of the writing-desk, and when he turned again to the +detective his face, with its high, thin, hooked nose and +close-drawn brows, was vulture-like in its malevolent +intensity. “You don’t deserve serious consideration! +If you make public such a ridiculous statement, you’ll +only be laughed at for your pains.”</p> +<p>“I shall prove it. The murderer’s midnight visit, his +secret conference with his victim, did not proceed unwitnessed. +His motive is known, but his act was futile. +It came too late.”</p> +<p>“This is all very interesting, no doubt, or would be if +it could be credited. However, I cannot understand +why you have elected to take me into your confidence.” +Rockamore was livid, but he controlled himself sufficiently +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_259' name='page_259'></a>259</span> +to speak with a simulation of contemptuous boredom. +“I came here to see Miss Lawton, in response to +an urgent call from her; I don’t know by what authority +you are here, but I do know that I do not propose to be +further annoyed by you!”</p> +<p>“I am afraid that you will find yourself very seriously +annoyed before this affair comes to an end, Mr. Rockamore,” +said Blaine. “Miss Lawton’s butler summoned +you this afternoon by my instructions, and with gratifying +promptness you came and did just what I expected +you would do––betrayed yourself irretrievably in your +haste to recover the evidence which now will hang you!”</p> +<p>The other man laughed harshly, a discordant, jarring +laugh which jangled on the tense air.</p> +<p>“Your accusation is too absurd to be resented. I +knew that Miss Lawton herself could not have been a +party to this melodramatic hoax!”</p> +<p>Blaine walked to the desk before replying, and taking +up the crimson-tinged vial, weighed it in his hand.</p> +<p>“You did not find the poison bottle which you yourself +thrust in that chair the night Pennington Lawton +died, Mr. Rockamore, because his daughter discovered it +and communicated with me,” he said. “She anticipated +you by less than twenty-four hours. We have known +from the beginning of your nocturnal visit to this room; +every word of your conversation was overheard. It’s +no use trying to bluff it; we’ve got a clear case against +you.”</p> +<p>“You and your ‘clear case’ be d––d!” the other +man cried, his tones shaking with anger. “You’re trying +to bluff me, my man, but it won’t work! I don’t +know what the devil you mean about a midnight visit to +Lawton; the last I saw of him was at a directors’ meeting +the afternoon before his death.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_260' name='page_260'></a>260</span></div> +<p>“Then why has that chair––the chair in which he +died––exerted such a peculiar, sinister influence over +you? Why is it that every time you have entered this +room since, you have been unable to keep away from it? +Why, this very hour, when you thought yourself unobserved, +did you walk straight to this chair and place +your hand deliberately upon the place where the poison +bottle was concealed? Why did you recoil? Why did +that cry rise from your lips when you saw what it contained?”</p> +<p>“I touched the chair inadvertently, while I waited for +Miss Lawton’s appearance, and my hand coming accidentally +in contact with a hard substance, mere idle curiosity +impelled me to draw it out. Naturally, I was +startled for the moment, when I saw what it was.” The +man’s voice deepened hoarsely, and he gave vent to +another sneering, vicious laugh. As its echo died in the +room, Blaine could have sworn that he heard a quick +gasp from behind the curtains of the window-seat, but it +did not reach the ears of Rockamore.</p> +<p>The latter continued, his voice breaking suddenly, +with a rage at last uncontrolled:</p> +<p>“I could not, of course, know that that bottle of red +ink was a cheap, theatrical trick of a mountebank, a creature +who is the laughing-stock of the press and the public, +in his idiotic attempts to draw sensational notoriety +upon himself. But I do know that this effort has failed! +You have dared to plant this outrageous, puerile trap to +attempt to ensnare me! You have dared to strike +blindly, in your mad thirst for publicity, at a man +infinitely beyond your reach. Your insolence ceases to +be amusing! If you try to push this ridiculous accusation, +I shall ruin you, Henry Blaine!”</p> +<p>“No man is beyond my reach who has broken the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_261' name='page_261'></a>261</span> +law.” The detective’s voice was quietly controlled, yet +each word pierced the silence like a sword-thrust. “I +have been threatened with ruin, with death, many times +by criminals of all classes, from defaulting financiers to +petty thieves, but I still live, and my fortunes have not +been materially impaired. I do not court publicity, but +I cannot shirk my duty because it entails that. And in +this case my duty is plain. You, Bertrand Rockamore, +came here, secretly, by night, to try to persuade Mr. +Lawton to go in with you on a crooked scheme––to +force him to, by blackmail, if necessary, on an old score. +Failing in that, you killed him, to prevent the nefarious +operations of yourself and your companions from being +brought to light!”</p> +<p>“You’re mad, I tell you!” roared Rockamore. +“Whoever stuffed you with such idiotic rot as that is +making gammon of you! That conversation is a +chimera of some disordered mind, if it isn’t merely part +of a deliberate conspiracy of yours against me! You’ll +suffer for this, my man! I’ll break you if it is the last +act of my life! Such a conference never took place, and +you know it!”</p> +<p>“‘Come, Lawton, be sensible; half a loaf is better +than no bread,’” Blaine quoted slowly. “‘There is no +blackmail about this––it is an ordinary <a name='TC_8'></a><ins title="Was ''busines'' in the original text">business</ins> proposition.’</p> +<p>“‘It’s a damnable crooked scheme, and I shall have +nothing to do with it. This is final! My hands are +clean, and I can look every man in the face and tell him +to go where you can go now!’</p> +<p>“You remember that, don’t you, Rockamore?” Blaine +interrupted himself to ask sharply. “Do you also recall +your reply?––‘How about poor Herbert Armstrong? +His wife––’”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_262' name='page_262'></a>262</span></div> +<p>“It’s a lie! A d––d lie!” cried Rockamore. “I +was not in this room that night! Such a conversation +never occurred! Who told you of this? Who dares +accuse me?”</p> +<p>“I do!” A clear, flute-like voice, resonant in its +firmness, rang out from behind him as he spoke, and he +wheeled abruptly, to find Anita standing with her slender +form outlined against the dark, rich velvet of the curtains. +Her head was thrown back, her eyes blazing; and +as she faced him, she slowly raised her arm and pointed a +steady finger at the recoiling figure. “I accuse you, +Bertrand Rockamore, of the murder of my father! It +was I who heard your conversation here in this room; it +was I who found the vial which contained the poison you +used when your arguments and threats failed! I am not +mistaken––I knew that I could never be mistaken if I +heard that voice again, shaken, as it was that night, with +rage and defiance––and fear! I knew that I should +hear it again some time, and all these weeks I have listened +for it, until this moment. Mr. Blaine, this is the +man!”</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_6' id='linki_6'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-262.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 424px; height: 314px;' /><br /> +<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center; width: 424px;'> +Her head was thrown back, her eyes blazing: and as she faced him, she slowly raised her arm and pointed a steady finger at the recoiling figure.<br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_263' name='page_263'></a>263</span></div> +<p>“Anita, you have lost your mind!” With the shock +of the girl’s appearance, a steely calm had come to the +Englishman, and although a tremor ran through his +tones, he held them well in leash. “My poor child, you +do not know what you are saying.</p> +<p>“As for you,”––he turned and looked levelly into +Blaine’s eyes,––“I am amazed that a man of your perception +and experience should for a moment entertain the +idea that he could make out a case of capital crime +against a person of my standing, solely upon the hysterical +pseudo-testimony of a girl whose brain is overwrought. +This midnight conference, which you so +glibly quote, is a figment of her distraught mind––or, if +it actually occurred (a fact of which you have no +proof), Miss Lawton admits, by the words she has just +uttered, that she did not see the mysterious visitor, but +is attempting to identify me as that person merely by the +tones of my voice. She has made no accusation against +me until this moment, yet since her father’s death she has +heard my voice almost daily for several weeks. Come, +Blaine, listen to reason! Your case has tumbled about +your ears! You can only avoid serious trouble for both +Miss Lawton and yourself by dropping this absurd matter +here and now.”</p> +<p>“It is true that I did not recognize your voice before, +but I have not until now heard it raised in anger as it +was that night––” began Anita, but Blaine silenced her +with a gesture.</p> +<p>“And the bottle of prussic acid which was found yesterday +hidden in the chair where just now you searched +for it?” he demanded, sternly. “The incontrovertible +evidence, proved late last night by an autopsy upon the +body of Pennington Lawton, which shows that he came +to his death by means of that poison––how do you account +for these facts, Rockamore?”</p> +<p>“I do not propose to account for them, whether they +are facts or not,” returned the other man, coolly. +“Since I know nothing whatever about them, they are +beyond my province. Unless you wish to bring ruin +upon yourself, and unwelcome notoriety and possibly an +official inquiry into her sanity upon Miss Lawton, you +will not repeat this incredible accusation. Only my +very real sympathy for her has enabled me to listen with +what patience I have to the unparalleled insolence of +this charge, but you are going too far. I see no necessity +for further prolonging this interview, and with your +permission I will withdraw––unless, of course,” he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_264' name='page_264'></a>264</span> +added, sneeringly, “you have a warrant for my arrest?”</p> +<p>To Anita’s astonishment, Henry Blaine stepped back +with a slight shrug and Rockamore, still with that sarcastic +leer upon his lips, bowed low to her and strode +from the room.</p> +<p>“You––you let him go, Mr. Blaine?” she gasped, +incredulously. “You let him escape!”</p> +<p>“He cannot escape.” Blaine smiled a trifle grimly. +“I’m giving him just a little more rope, that is all, to +see if he will help us secure the others. His every move +is under strict surveillance––for him there is no way +out, save one.”</p> +<p>“And that way?” asked Anita.</p> +<p>The detective made no reply. In a few minutes he +took leave of her and proceeded to his office, where he +spent a busy day, sending cables in cipher, detailing +operatives to many new assignments and receiving reports.</p> +<p>Late in the afternoon replies began to come in to his +cablegrams of the morning. Whatever their import, +they quite evidently afforded him immense satisfaction, +and as the early dusk settled down, his eyes began to +glow with the light of battle, which those closest to him +in his marvelous work had learned to recognize when victory +was in sight.</p> +<p>Suraci noted it when he entered to make his report, +and the glint of enthusiasm in his own eyes brightened +like burnished steel.</p> +<p>“I relieved Ross at noon, as you instructed me, sir,” +he began, “in the vestibule of Mr. Rockamore’s apartment +house. It was a good thing that I had the six-cylinder +car handy, for he surely led me a chase! Ten +minutes after I went on duty, Rockamore came out, +jumped into his automobile, and after circling the park, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_265' name='page_265'></a>265</span> +he turned south, zig-zagging through side streets as if +to cut off pursuit. He reached South-end Ferry, but +hovered about until the gates were on the point of closing. +Then his chauffeur shot the car forward, but before +I could reach him, Creghan stepped up with your +warrant.</p> +<p>“‘I’m sorry, sir,’ I heard him say as I came up. +‘I’m to use this only in case you insist on attempting to +leave the city, sir. Mr. Blaine’s orders.’</p> +<p>“Rockamore turned on him in a fury, but thought +better of it, and after a minute he leaned forward with a +shrug, and directed the chauffeur north again. This +time he tried the Great Western Station, but Liebler was +there, waiting for him; then the North Illington branch +depot––Schmidt was on hand. As a forlorn hope he +tried the Tropic and Oriental steamship line,––one of +their ships goes out to-night,––but Norris intercepted +him; at last he speeded down the boulevard and out on +the eastern post-road, but Kearney was on the job at the +toll-gate.</p> +<p>“He gave it up then, and went back to his rooms, and +Ross relieved me there, just now. The lights are flaring +in the windows of his rooms, and you can see his shadow––he’s +pacing up and down like a caged animal!”</p> +<p>“All right, Suraci. Go back and tell Ross to have +one of his men telephone to me at once if Rockamore +leaves his rooms before nine. That will be all for you +to-night. I’ve got to do the rest of the work myself.”</p> +<p>At nine o’clock precisely, Henry Blaine presented himself +at Rockamore’s door. As he had anticipated he was +admitted at once and ushered into the Englishman’s +presence as if his coming had been expected.</p> +<p>“I say, Blaine, what the devil do you mean by this +game you’re playing?” Rockamore demanded, as he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_266' name='page_266'></a>266</span> +stood erect and perfectly poised upon the hearth, and +faced the detective. A faint, sarcastic smile curved his +lips, and in his pale eyes there was no hint of trouble or +fear––merely a look of tolerant, half-contemptuous +amusement. Immaculate in his dinner-coat and fresh +boutonnière, his bearing superb in his ease and condescension, +he presented a picture of elegance. Blaine +glanced about the rich, somber den before he replied.</p> +<p>“I’m not playing any game, Mr. Rockamore. Why +did you try so desperately to leave the city?”</p> +<p>The Englishman shrugged.</p> +<p>“A sudden whim, I suppose. Would it be divulging +a secret of your profession if you informed me why one +of your men did not arrest me, since all had warrants on +the ridiculous charge you brought against me this morning, +of murdering my oldest and closest friend?”</p> +<p>“I merely wanted to assure myself that you would not +leave the city until I had obtained sufficient data with +which to approach you,” the detective responded, imperturbably. +“I have come to-night for a little talk +with you, Mr. Rockamore. I trust I am not intruding?”</p> +<p>“Not at all. As a matter of fact, after to-day’s incidents +I was rather expecting you.” Rockamore waved +his unbidden guest to a chair, and produced a gold cigarette-case. +“Smoke? You perhaps prefer cigars––no? +A brandy and soda?”</p> +<p>“Thank you, no. With your permission, I will get +right down to business. It will simplify matters for +both of us if you are willing to answer some questions I +wish to put to you; but, of course, there is no compulsion +about it. On the other hand, it is my duty to warn +you that anything you say may be used against you.”</p> +<p>“Fire away, Mr. Blaine!” Rockamore seated himself +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_267' name='page_267'></a>267</span> +and stretched out his legs luxuriously to the open +wood-fire. “I don’t fancy that anything I shall say +will militate against me. I was an idiot to lose my temper +this morning, but I hate being made game of. Now +the whole situation merely amuses me, but it may become +tiresome. Let’s get it over.”</p> +<p>“Mr. Rockamore, you were born in Staffordshire, +England, were you not? Near a place called Handsworth?”</p> +<p>The unexpected question brought a meditative frown +to the other man’s brow, but he replied readily enough:</p> +<p>“Yes, at Handsworth Castle, to be exact. But I +can’t quite gather what bearing that insignificant fact +has upon your amazing charge this morning.”</p> +<p>“You are the only son of Gerald Cecil Rockamore, +third son of the Earl of Stafford?” The detective did +not appear to have heard the protest of the man he was +interrogating.</p> +<p>“Precisely. But what––”</p> +<p>“There were, then, four lives between you and the +title,” Blaine interrupted, tersely. “But two remain, +your father and grandfather. Your uncles died, both +of sudden attacks of heart-disease, and curiously +enough, both deaths occurred while they were visiting at +Handsworth Castle.”</p> +<p>“That is quite true.” The cynical banter was gone +from Rockamore’s tones, and he spoke with a peculiar, +hushed evenness, as if he waited, on guard, for the next +thrust.</p> +<p>“Lord Ashfrith, your father’s oldest brother, and +next in line to the old Earl, was seated in the gun-room +of the castle, sipping a brandy and soda, and carving a +peach-stone. Twenty minutes before, you had brought +the peaches in from the garden, and eaten them with him. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_268' name='page_268'></a>268</span> +He was showing you how, in his boyhood, he had carved +a watch-charm from a peach-stone, and you were close +at his side when he suddenly fell over dead. Two years +later, your Uncle Alaric, heir to the earldom since his +older brother was out of the way, dropped dead at a +hunt breakfast. You were seated next him.”</p> +<p>“Are you trying to insinuate that I had anything to +do with these deaths?” Rockamore still spoke quietly, +but there was a slight tremor in his tones, and his face +looked suddenly gray and leaden in the glow of the leaping +flames.</p> +<p>“I am recalling certain facts in your family history. +When your Uncle Alaric died, he had just set down his +cordial glass, which had contained peach brandy. An +odd coincidence, wasn’t it, that both of these men died +with the odor of peaches about them, an odor which +incidentally you had provided in both cases, for it was +you who suggested the peach brandy as a cordial at the +hunt breakfast, and induced your uncle to partake of +it.”</p> +<p>“It was a coincidence, as you say. I had not thought +of it before.” The Englishman moistened his lips nervously, +as if they suddenly felt dry. “Uncle Alaric was +a heavy, full-blooded man, and he had ridden hard that +morning, contrary to the doctor’s orders. I suggested +the brandy as a bracer, I remember.”</p> +<p>“An unfortunate suggestion, wasn’t it?” Blaine +asked, significantly. The other man made no reply.</p> +<p>“There was another coincidence.” The detective +pursued relentlessly. “The brandy-and-soda, which +Lord Ashfrith was drinking at the moment of his death, +was naturally a pale amber color. So was the brandy +which your Uncle Alaric drank as he died. And prussic +acid is amber-colored, too, Mr. Rockamore! Lord Ashfrith +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_269' name='page_269'></a>269</span> +was carving a peach-stone when the end came, and +the odor of peaches clung to his body. Your Uncle +Alaric partook of peach brandy, and the same odor hovered +about him in death. Prussic acid is redolent of the +odor of peaches!”</p> +<p>Rockamore started from his chair.</p> +<p>“I understand what you are attempting to establish +by the flimsiest of circumstantial evidence!” he sneered. +“But you are away beyond your depth, my man! May +I ask where you obtained this interesting but scarcely +valuable information?”</p> +<p>“From Scotland Yard, by cable, to-day.” Blaine +rose also and faced the other man. “An investigation +was started into the second death, upon the Earl’s request, +but it was dropped for lack of evidence. About +that time, Mr. Rockamore, you decided rather suddenly, +and for no apparent reason, to come to America, where +you have remained ever since.”</p> +<p>“Mr. Blaine, if I were in the mood to be facetious, I +might employ your American vernacular and ask that +you tell me something I don’t know! Come to the point, +man; you try my patience.”</p> +<p>“In view of recent developments, I am under the impression +that Scotland Yard would welcome your reappearance +on British soil, but I fear that will be forever +impossible,” Blaine said slowly. “Just as you were beside +your uncles when each met with his end, so you were +beside Pennington Lawton when death came to him! +That has been proved. Just as brandy and soda, and +peach brandy, are amber-colored, so are Scotch high-balls, +which you and Pennington Lawton were drinking. +No odor of peaches lingered about the room, for Miss +Lawton had lighted a handful of joss-sticks in a vase +upon the mantel earlier in the evening, and their pungent +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_270' name='page_270'></a>270</span> +perfume filled the air. But the odor of peaches permeated +the room when the tiny bottle which you hid in +the folds of the chair was uncorked––the odor of +peaches rose above the stench of mortifying flesh, when +the body of your victim was exhumed late last night for +a belated autopsy! The heart would have revealed the +truth, had there been no corroborative evidence, for it +was filled with arterial blood––incontrovertible proof +of death by prussic-acid poisoning.”</p> +<p>There was a tense pause, and then Rockamore spoke +sharply, his voice strained to the breaking point.</p> +<p>“If you are so certain of my guilt, Blaine, why have +you come to me secretly here and now? What is your +price?”</p> +<p>“I have no price,” the great detective answered, +simply.</p> +<p>“Then why did you not arrest me at once? Why +this purposeless interview?”</p> +<p>“Because––” Blaine paused, and when he spoke +again, a solemn hush, almost of pity, had crept into his +tones. “You come of a fine old line, Mr. Rockamore, of +a splendid race. Your grandfather, the aged Earl, is +living only in the past, proud of the record of his forebears. +Your father is a soldier and statesman, valuable +to the nation; his younger brother, Cedric, has achieved +deserved fame and glory in the Boer War. There remains +only you. For the sake of the innocent who must +suffer with you, I have come to you to-night, that you +may have an opportunity to––prepare yourself. In +the morning I must arrest you. My duty is plain.”</p> +<p>As he uttered the words, the craven fear which had +struggled through the malicious sneer on the other man’s +face faded as if an obliterating hand had passed across +his brow, and a look of indomitable courage and resignation +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_271' name='page_271'></a>271</span> +took its place. There was something akin to +nobility in his expression as he turned to the detective +with head proudly erect and shoulders squared.</p> +<p>“I thank you, Mr. Blaine,” he said, simply. “I +understand. I shall not fail them––the others! You +have been far more generous to me than I deserve. And +now––good-night. You will find me here when you +come in the morning.”</p> +<p>But in the morning Henry Blaine did not carry out +his expressed intention. Instead, he sat at his desk, +staring at the headlines in a paper spread out before +him. The Honorable Bertrand Rockamore had been +found dead on the floor of his den, with a bullet through +his head. He would never allow his man to touch his +guns, and had been engaged in cleaning one of them, as +was his custom, in preparation for his annual shooting +trip to Florida, when in some fashion it had been accidentally +discharged.</p> +<p>“I wonder if I did the right thing!” mused Blaine. +“He had the courage to do it, after all. Blood will +tell, in the end.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_272' name='page_272'></a>272</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIX_THE_UNSEEN_LISTENER' id='CHAPTER_XIX_THE_UNSEEN_LISTENER'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2> +<h3>THE UNSEEN LISTENER</h3> +</div> +<p class="dropcapq" ><small>“</small><span class="drop">T</span><span class="dcap">here’s</span> a man outside who wishes to speak to +you, sir. Says his name is Hicks, but won’t tell +his business.”</p> +<p style="clear: both; padding-top: 0.4em;" >Blaine looked up from the paper.</p> +<p>“Never heard of him. What sort of a man, Marsh?”</p> +<p>“Old, white-haired, carries himself like an old family +servant of some sort. Looks as if he’d been crying. +He’s trembling so he can scarcely stand, and seems +deeply affected by something. Says he has a message +for you, and must see you personally.”</p> +<p>“Very well. Show him in.”</p> +<p>“Thank you for receiving me, sir.” A quavering old +voice sounded from the doorway a moment later, and +Blaine turned in his chair to face the aged, erect, black-clad +figure which stood there.</p> +<p>“Come in, Hicks.” The detective’s voice was kindly. +“Sit down here, and tell me what I can do for you.”</p> +<p>“I bring you a message, sir.” The man tottered to +the chair and sank into it. “A message from the dead.”</p> +<p>Blaine leaned forward suddenly.</p> +<p>“You were––”</p> +<p>“Mr. Rockamore’s valet, sir, and his father’s before +him. I loved him as if he were my own son, if you will +pardon the liberty I take in saying so, and when he came +to this country I accompanied him. He was always +good to me, sir, a kind young master and a real friend. +It was I who found him this morning––”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_273' name='page_273'></a>273</span></div> +<p>His voice broke, and he bowed his head upon +his wrinkled hands. No tears came––but the thin +shoulders shook, and a dry sob tore its way from the +gaunt throat.</p> +<p>Blaine waited until the paroxysm had ceased, and then +urged, gently:</p> +<p>“Go on, Hicks. You have something to tell me?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir. The coroner and the press call it accidental +death, but I––may God forgive me for saying +it––I know better! He left word where none could +find it but me, that you knew the truth, and he bade me +give you––this!”</p> +<p>He produced a large, square envelope from an inner +pocket, and extended it in his trembling hand to the +detective. Without glancing at it, Blaine laid it on the +desk before him.</p> +<p>“Where did you discover this?”</p> +<p>“There is a flat, oblong casket of old silver, shaped +somewhat like a humidor––a family relic, sir––which +stands upon the center-table in the den. Whenever +Mr. Rockamore had any message to leave for me in +writing, concerning his confidential business, which he +did not wish the other servants to have access to, he +always slipped it into the casket. After the coroner +had come and gone this morning, and some of the excitement +had died down, I went back to the den, to +straighten it. I don’t know why, but somehow I half +suspected the truth. Perhaps it was the expression of +his face––so peaceful and resigned, with all the hard, +sneering lines the years had brought gone from it, so +that he looked almost like a boy again, the bonny boy +who used to ride helter-skelter on his pony through the +lanes of Staffordshire, long ago.”</p> +<p>The aged man spoke half to himself and seemed to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_274' name='page_274'></a>274</span> +have fallen into a reverie, which Blaine made no attempt +to break in upon. At length he roused himself with a +little start, and went on.</p> +<p>“At any rate, when I had the room in order, and was +standing by the table taking a last look about, my hand +rested on the casket, and quite without thinking, sir, I +raised the lid. There within it lay a sealed envelope +with my name on it! Inside was a certified check for +two thousand pounds made out to me––he didn’t forget +me, even at the last––and that letter for you, together +with a little note asking me to––to take him home. +Is it true, sir, that you do know the whole truth?”</p> +<p>“I think I do,” Blaine responded gravely. “I did +the best I could for your late master, Hicks, all that I +could do which was compatible with my duty, and now +my lips are sealed. I cannot betray his confidence. +You intend to accompany the body to England?”</p> +<p>“Of course, sir,” the old man said simply. “It was +his last request of me, who have never refused him anything +in all his life. When I have seen him laid beside +the others of the House of Stafford, I will go back to the +castle, to his father, and end my days there. My course +is nearly run, and this great new country has no place in +it for the aged. I––I will go now, sir. I have much +to attend to, and my master is lying alone.”</p> +<p>When the old servant had taken his departure, Henry +Blaine picked up the envelope. It was addressed in a +firm, unshaken hand, and with a last touch of the +sardonic humor characteristic of the dead man, it +had been stamped with the seal of the renowned and +honored House of Stafford.</p> +<p>The detective broke the seal, and lifting the flap, drew +out the folded letter page and became immediately absorbed +in its contents. He read:</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_275' name='page_275'></a>275</span></div> +<div style="font-size:0.85em; margin: 0.5em 2.5em;"> +<p>In view of your magnanimity to-night, I feel that this explanation––call +it a confession, if you will––is your due. If you consider +it your duty to give it to the world at large, you must do +so, but for God’s sake be as merciful as you can to those at home, +who will suffer enough, in all conscience, as the affair now stands.</p> +<p>Your accusation was justified. I killed Pennington Lawton in +the manner and for the reason which you alleged. I made an +appointment by telephone just after dinner, to call upon him +late that night. I tried by every means in my power to induce +him to go in on a scheme to which, unknown to him, I had already +committed him. He steadfastly refused. His death was +the only way for me to obviate exposure and ruin, and the disgrace +of a prison sentence. I anticipated his attitude and had +come prepared. During a heated period of our discussion, he +walked to the desk and stood for a moment with his shoulder +turned to me, searching for a paper in his private drawer. I saw +my chance, and seized upon it. I was standing before his chair, +I may explain, watching him over its high back. I took the vial +of prussic acid from my pocket, uncorked it and poured a few +drops into his high-ball glass. I had recorked the vial, and was +on the point of returning it to its hiding-place, when he turned +to me. Had I raised my hand to my pocket he would have noticed +the gesture; as it was, the back of the chair screened me, +and on a sudden desperate impulse I thrust the vial deep in the +leather fold between the seat and back.</p> +<p>Lawton drank, and died. I left the house, as I thought, unnoticed +and secure from detection. On subsequent visits to the +house I endeavored to regain possession of the vial, but on each +occasion I failed in my purpose, and at length it fell into the +hands of Anita Lawton. I have no more to say. Of earlier +events at home in England, which you and I discussed to-night, +it is better that I remain silent. You, of all men, will appreciate +my motive.</p> +<p>And now, Blaine, good-night. Please accept my heartfelt +thanks for the manner in which you handled a most difficult situation +to-night. You have beaten me fairly at my own game. +It may be that we shall meet again, somewhere, some time. In +all sincerity, yours,</p> +<p style='margin-left:0.0em; margin-right:0.0em; text-align:right'><span style='margin-right: 0.78125em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Arthur Bertrand Rockamore.</span></span><br /></p> +</div> +<p>The detective folded the letter slowly and returned it +to its envelope. Then he sat for long buried in thought. +Rockamore had taken the solitary loophole of escape +from overwhelming disgrace left to him. He had, as +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_276' name='page_276'></a>276</span> +far as in him lay, expiated his crimes. What need, then, +to blazon them forth to a gaping world? Pennington +Lawton had died of heart-disease, so said the coroner. +The press had echoed him, and the public accepted that +fact. Only two living persons beside the coroner knew +the truth, and Blaine felt sure that the gentle spirit of +Anita Lawton would be merciful––her thirst for vengeance +upon her father’s murderer sated by his self-inflicted +death––to those of his blood, who, innocent, +must be dragged in the mire by the disclosure of his +infamy.</p> +<p>When Henry Blaine presented himself an hour later +at her home, he found Anita inexpressibly shocked by the +tragic event of the night.</p> +<p>“He was guilty!” she murmured. “He took his +own life to escape falling into your hands! That gunshot +was no accident, Mr. Blaine. He murdered my +father in cold blood, but he has paid. I abhor his +memory, and yet I can find it in my heart to be sorry +for him!”</p> +<p>In silence, the detective placed in her hands the letter +of the dead man, and watched her face as she slowly read +it. When she looked up, her eyes were wet, and a tiny +red spot glowed in either cheek.</p> +<p>“Poor Father!” she moaned. “With all his leadership +and knowledge of men, he was helpless and unsuspecting +in the hands of that merciless fiend! And +yet even he thought of his own people at the last, and +wanted to spare them. Oh, how I wish we could! If we +might only keep from them forever the knowledge of his +wickedness, his crime!”</p> +<p>“We can, if you are willing.”</p> +<p>Blaine met her look of startled inquiry, and replied to +it with a brief résumé of his interview of the previous +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_277' name='page_277'></a>277</span> +evening with Rockamore. When he added his suggestion +that the matter of the way in which her father +came to his death be buried in oblivion, and the public +left to believe the first report, she was silent for a time.</p> +<p>“But the coroner who performed the autopsy night +before last,” she remarked, at length, hesitatingly. +“He will make the truth public, will he not?”</p> +<p>“Not necessarily. That depends upon you. If you +wish it, nothing will ever be known.”</p> +<p>“I think you are right, Mr. Blaine. Father’s death +has been avenged; neither you nor I can do more. The +man who killed him has gone to his last account. +Further notoriety and scandal cannot help Father, or +bring him back to me. It would only cause needless +suffering to those who are no more at fault than we ourselves. +If the coroner can be silenced, we will keep our +secret, you and I.”</p> +<p>“Unless,”––Blaine’s voice was very grave––“unless +it becomes necessary to divulge it in order to get the +rest of them within our grasp.”</p> +<p>“The rest?” she looked up as if she had scarcely +heard.</p> +<p>“Mallowe and Carlis and Paddington and the horde +of lesser conspirators in their hire. We must recover +your father’s immense fortune, and find out how it was +possible for them to divert it to their own channels. +There is Mr. Hamilton to be thought of, too––his +injury, his kidnaping! If we can succeed in unraveling +this mysterious tangle of events without recourse to the +fact of our knowledge of the murder, well and good. If +not, we must make use of whatever has come to our hand. +With the rest of the malefactors brought to justice, you +can afford to be magnanimous even to the dead man +who has done you the most grievous wrong of all.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_278' name='page_278'></a>278</span></div> +<p>“It shall be as you say––”</p> +<p>She broke off suddenly as her eyes, looking beyond +Blaine’s shoulder, fell upon a silent figure in the doorway.</p> +<p>“Mr. Mallowe!” she cried. “When did you come? +How is it that Wilkes failed to announce you?”</p> +<p>“I arrived just at this moment.” The smooth, +unctuous tones floated out upon the strained tension of +the air. “I told Wilkes I would come right up. He +told me Mr. Blaine was with you, and I wish to congratulate +him on his marvelous success. Surely you do +not mind the liberty I took in announcing myself, my +dear child?”</p> +<p>“Not at all,” Anita responded, coldly. “To which +success of Mr. Blaine’s do you refer, Mr. Mallowe?”</p> +<p>“Why, to his discovery of Ramon, of course.” Mr. +Mallowe looked from one to the other of them as if nonplused +by Anita’s unexpected attitude. Then he continued +hurriedly, with a show of enthusiasm. “It was +wonderful, unprecedented! But how did Ramon come +to be in Mac Alarney’s retreat, and so shockingly +injured?”</p> +<p>“The same people who ran him down the day Miss +Lawton sent for him to come to her aid––the day she +learned of her father’s insolvency.” Blaine spoke +quickly, before the girl had an opportunity to reply. +“The same people who on two other separate occasions +attempted his life!”</p> +<p>“You cannot mean to tell me that there is some conspiracy +on foot against Ramon Hamilton!” Mallowe’s +face was a picture of shocked amazement. “But why? +He is the most exemplary of young men, quite a model +in these days––”</p> +<p>“Because he is a man, and prepared to protect and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_279' name='page_279'></a>279</span> +defend to the last ounce of his strength the thing which +he loved better than life itself––the thing which, but +for him, stood helpless and alone, surrounded by enemies +and hopelessly entangled in the meshes of a gigantic +conspiracy!”</p> +<p>“You speak in riddles, Mr. Blaine.” Mallowe’s gray +brows drew together.</p> +<p>“Riddles which will soon be answered, Mr. Mallowe. +Miss Lawton’s natural protector––her father––had +been ruthlessly removed by––death. Only Mr. Hamilton +stood between her and the machinations of those +who thought they had her in their power. Therefore, +Mr. Hamilton was also removed, temporarily. Do I +make myself quite clear now?”</p> +<p>“It is impossible, incredible! What enemies could +this dear child here have made, and who could wish to +harm her? Besides, am I not here? Do not I and my +friends stand <a name='TC_9'></a><ins title="''in loco parentis'' was italicized in the original text">in <i>loco parentis</i></ins> to her?”</p> +<p>“As you doubtless are aware, one of Miss Lawton’s +pseudo-guardians, at least, has involuntarily resigned +his wardenship,” Blaine remarked.</p> +<p>“You refer to the sudden death last night of my +associate, Mr. Rockamore?” Mallowe shook his head +dolorously. “A terrible accident! The news was an +inexpressible shock to me! It was to comfort Miss +Lawton for the blow which the loss of this devoted +friend must be to her that I came to-day.”</p> +<p>“I fancy the loss itself will be consolation enough, +Mr. Mallowe. The accident was tragic, of course. It +takes courage to clean a gun, sometimes––more +courage, perhaps, than to spill into a glass an ingredient +not usually included in a Scotch highball, let +us say.”</p> +<p>“Mr. Blaine, if you are inclined to be facetious, sir, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_280' name='page_280'></a>280</span> +let me tell you this is neither the time nor place for an +attempt at a jest! When Miss Lawton called you in, +the other day, and engaged you to search for Mr. +Hamilton––”</p> +<p>“Oh, she didn’t call me in then, Mr. Mallowe! I’ve +been on the case from the start, all this last month, in +fact, and in close touch with Miss Lawton every day.”</p> +<p>Mallowe started back, the light of comprehension +dawning swiftly in his eyes, only instantly to be veiled +with a film of craftiness.</p> +<p>“What case?” he asked. “Ramon Hamilton has not +been missing for a month.”</p> +<p>“The case of the death of Pennington Lawton! The +case of his fraudulently alleged bankruptcy! The case +of the whole damnable conspiracy to crush this girl to +the earth, to impoverish her and tarnish the fair name +and honored memory of her father. It’s cards on the +table now, Mr. Mallowe, and I’m going to win!”</p> +<p>“You must be mad!” exclaimed the older man. +“This talk of a conspiracy is ridiculous, absurd!”</p> +<p>“Mr. Rockamore called me ‘mad,’ also, yesterday +afternoon, standing just where you stand now, Mr. Mallowe.” +The detective met the lowering eyes squarely. +“Yet he went home and––accidentally shot himself! +A curiously opportune shot that! Miss Lawton’s +enemies depended too confidently upon her credulity in +accepting without question the unsubstantiated assertion +of her father’s insolvency. They did not take +into account the possibility that their henchman, Paddington, +might fail, or turn traitor; that Mac Alarney +might talk to save his own hide; that Jimmy Brunell’s +forgeries might be traced to their source; that the books +in the office of the Recorder of Deeds might divulge +interesting items to those sufficiently concerned to delve +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_281' name='page_281'></a>281</span> +into the files of past years! You discharged your clerk +on the flimsiest of excuses, Mr. Mallowe––but you did +not discharge her quite soon enough. Rockamore’s +stenographer, and the switchboard operator in Carlis’ +office,––who, like your filing clerk, came from Miss +Lawton’s club,––were also dismissed too late. As I +have said, my cards are on the table now. Are you prepared +to play yours?”</p> +<p>For answer, Mallowe turned slowly to Anita, his +face a study of pained surprise and indignation.</p> +<p>“My dear girl, I do not understand one word of what +this person is saying, but he is either mad, or intoxicated +with his success in locating Ramon, to the extent that he +is endeavoring to build up a fictitious case on a maze of +lies. Any notoriety will bring him welcome publicity, +and that is all he is looking for. I shall take immediate +steps to have his incomprehensible and dangerous allegation +suppressed. Such a man is a menace to the community! +In the meantime, I must beg of you to dismiss +him at once. Do not listen to him, do not allow him to +influence you! You are only an impulsive, credulous +girl, and he is using you as a mere tool for his own ends. +I cannot imagine how you happened to fall into his +clutches.”</p> +<p>Anita faced him, straight and slim and tall, and her +soft eyes seemed fairly to burn into his.</p> +<p>“I am not so credulous as you think, Mr. Mallowe. +I never for a moment believed your assertion that my +father died a pauper, and I took immediate steps to disprove +it. Doctor Franklin was your tool, when he came +to me with your message, but not I! And I shouldn’t +advise you to try, at this late date, to ‘suppress’ Mr. +Blaine. Many other malefactors have attempted it, I +understand, in the past, but I never heard of any of them +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_282' name='page_282'></a>282</span> +meeting with conspicuous success. You and my other +two self-appointed guardians must have been desperate +indeed to have risked trying to hoodwink me with so +ridiculous and vague a story as that of the loss of my +father’s fortune!”</p> +<p>“This is too much!” Mallowe stormed. “Young +woman, you forget yourself! Because of the evil suggestions, +the malevolent influence of this man’s plausible +lies, are you such an ingrate as to turn upon your only +friends, your father’s intimate, life-long associates, the +people who have, from disinterested motives of the +purest kindness and affection, provided for you, comforted +you, and shielded you from the world? Anita, +I cannot believe it of you! I will leave you, now. I +am positively overcome with this added shock of your +ingratitude and willful deceit, coming so soon after the +blow of my poor friend’s death. I trust you will be in +a thoroughly repentant frame of mind when next I see +you.</p> +<p>“As for you, sir!” He turned to the immovable +figure of the detective. “I will soon show you what it +means to meddle with matters which do not concern you––to +pit yourself arrogantly against the biggest power +in this country!”</p> +<p>“The biggest power in this or any other country +is the power of justice.” Blaine’s voice rang out +trenchantly. “When you and your associates planned +this desperate <i>coup</i>, it was as a last resort. You had +involved yourselves too deeply; you had gone too far to +retrace your steps. You were forced to go on forward––and +now your path is closed with bars of iron!”</p> +<p>“I will not remain here any longer to be insulted! +Miss Lawton, I shall never cross the threshold of this +house again––this house, which only by my charity +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_283' name='page_283'></a>283</span> +you have been suffered to remain in––until you apologize +for the disgraceful scene here this morning. I can +only hope that you will soon come to your senses!”</p> +<p>As he strode indignantly from the room, Anita turned +anxiously to Henry Blaine.</p> +<p>“Oh, what will he do?” she whispered. “He is really +a power, a money-power, you know, Mr. Blaine! Where +will he go now?”</p> +<p>“Straight to his <i>confrère</i> Carlis, and tell him that the +game is up.” The detective spoke with brisk confidence. +“He’ll be tailed by my men, anyway, so we shall soon +have a report. Don’t see anyone, on any pretext whatsoever, +and don’t leave the house, Miss Lawton. I will +instruct Wilkes on my way out, that you are to be at +home to no one. I must be getting back to my office +now. If I am not mistaken, I shall receive a visit without +unnecessary delay from my old friend Timothy +Carlis, and I wouldn’t miss it for the world!”</p> +<p>Blaine’s prediction proved to have been well founded. +Scarcely an hour passed, and he was deep in the study +of some of his earlier notes on the case, when all at once +a hubbub arose in his outer office. Usually quiet and +well-ordered, its customary stillness was broken by a +confused, expostulatory murmur of voices, above which +rose a strident, angry bellow, like that of a maddened +wild beast. Then a chair was violently overturned; the +sudden sharp sound of a scuffle came to the detective’s +listening ears; and the door was dashed open with a jar +which made the massive inkstand upon the desk quiver.</p> +<p>Timothy Carlis stood upon the threshold––Timothy +Carlis, his face empurpled, the great veins upon his low-slanting +forehead standing out like whipcords, his huge, +spatulate hands clenched, his narrow, slit eyes gleaming +murderously.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_284' name='page_284'></a>284</span></div> +<p>“So you’re here, after all!” he roared. “Those +d––d fools out there tried to give me the wrong steer, +but I was wise to ’em. You buffaloed Rockamore, +and that senile old idiot, Mallowe, but you can’t bluff +me! I came here to see you, and I usually get what I go +after!”</p> +<p>“Having seen me, Carlis, will you kindly state your +business and go? This promises to be one of my busiest +days. What can I do for you?” Blaine leaned back in +his chair, with a bland smile of pleased expectancy.</p> +<p>“It ain’t what you <i>can</i> do; it’s what you’re <i>goin’</i> to +do, and no mistake about it!” the other glowered. +“You’re goin’ to keep your mouth shut as tight as a +trap, and your hands off, from now on! Oh, you know +what I mean, right enough. Don’t try to work the surprised +gag on me!”</p> +<p>He added the latter with a coarse sneer which further +distorted his inflamed visage. Blaine, with an expression +of sharp inquiry, had whirled around in his swivel +chair to face his excited visitor, and as he did so, his +hand, with seeming inadvertence, had for an instant +come in contact with the under ledge of his desk-top.</p> +<p>“I’m afraid, much as I desire not to prolong this unexpected +interview, that I must ask you to explain just +what it is that I must keep my hands off of, as you say. +We will go into the wherefore of it later.”</p> +<p>Carlis glanced back of him into the empty hallway, +then closed the door and came forward menacingly.</p> +<p>“What’s the good of beating about the bush?” he +demanded, in a fierce undertone. “You know d––n’ +well what I mean: you’re butting in on the Lawton +affair. You’ve bitten off more than you can chew, and +you’d better wise yourself up to that, here and now!”</p> +<p>“Just what is the Lawton affair?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_285' name='page_285'></a>285</span></div> +<p>“Oh, stow that bluff! You know too much already, +and if I followed my hunch, I’d scrag you now, to play +safe. Dead men don’t blab, as a rule––though one may +have, last night. I came here to be generous, to give +you a last chance. I’ve fought tooth and nail, myself, +for my place at the top, and I like a game scrapper, even +if he is on the wrong side. You’ve tried to get me for +years, but as I knew you couldn’t, I didn’t bother with +you, any more than I would with a trained flea, and +I bear no malice. D––d if I don’t like you, +Blaine!”</p> +<p>“Thank you!” The detective bowed in ironic acknowledgment +of the compliment. “Your friendship +would be considered a valuable asset by many, I have no +doubt, but––”</p> +<p>“Look here!” The great political boss had shed his +bulldozing manner, and a shade of unmistakable earnestness, +not unmixed with anxiety, had crept into his tones. +“I’m talking as man to man, and I know I can trust +your word of honor, even if you pretend you won’t take +mine. Is anyone listening? Have you got any of your +infernal operatives spying about?”</p> +<p>Blaine leaned forward and replied with deep seriousness.</p> +<p>“I give you my word, Carlis, that no human ear is +overhearing our conversation.” Then he smiled, and +added, with a touch of mockery: “But what difference +can that make? I thought you came here to issue instructions. +At least, you so announced yourself on +your arrival!”</p> +<p>“Because I’m going to make a proposition to you––on +my own.” Even Carlis’ coarse face flushed darkly +at the base self-revelation. “Pennington Lawton died +of heart-disease.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_286' name='page_286'></a>286</span></div> +<p>He paused, and after waiting a full minute, Blaine +remarked, quietly, but with marked significance:</p> +<p>“Of course. That is self-evident, isn’t it?”</p> +<p>“Well, then––” Carlis stepped back with a satisfied +grunt. “He didn’t have a soul on earth dependent +on him but his daughter. His great fortune is swept +away, and that daughter left penniless. But ain’t there +lots of girls in this world worse off than she? Ain’t she +got good friends that’s lookin’ out for her, and seein’ +that she don’t want for a thing? Ain’t she goin’ to +marry a young fellow that loves the ground she walks +on––a rich young fellow, that’ll give her everything, +all her life? What more could she want? <i>She’s</i> all +right. But the big money––the money Lawton made +by grinding down the masses––wouldn’t you like a +slice of it yourself, Blaine? A nice, fat, juicy slice?”</p> +<p>“How?” An interested pucker appeared suddenly +between the detective’s expressive brows, and Carlis +laughed.</p> +<p>“Oh, we’re all in it––you may as well be! You’re +on the inside, as it is! The play got too high for Rockamore, +and he cashed in; you’ve bluffed old Mallowe till +he’s looking up sailing dates for Algiers, but I knew +you’d be sensible, when it came to the scratch, and divide +the pot, rather than blow your whistle and have the +game pulled!”</p> +<p>“But it was old Mallowe”––Blaine’s tone was +puzzled––“who succeeded in transferring all that worthless +land he’d acquired to Lawton, when Lawton wouldn’t +come in and help him on that Street-Railways grab, +which would have made him practically sole owner of all +the suburban real estate around Illington, wasn’t it?”</p> +<p>“Sure it was!” laughed Carlis, ponderously. “But +who made it possible for Mallowe to palm off those miles +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_287' name='page_287'></a>287</span> +of vacant lots––as improved city property, of course––on +Lawton, without his knowledge, and even have +them recorded in his name, but me? What am I boss +for, if I don’t own a little man like the Recorder of +Deeds?”</p> +<p>“I see!” Blaine tapped his finger-tips together and +smiled slowly, in meditative appreciation. “And it +was your man, also, Paddington, who found means to +provide the mortgage, letter of appeal for a loan, note +for the loan itself, and so forth. As for Rockamore––”</p> +<p>“Oh, he fixed up the dividend end, watered the stock +and kept the whole thing going by phony financing while +there was a chance of our hoodwinking Lawton into +going into it voluntarily. He was one grand little promoter, +Rockamore was; pity he got cold feet, and promoted +himself into another sphere!”</p> +<p>“All things considered, it may not be such a pity, +after all!” Blaine rose suddenly, whirling his chair +about until it stood before him, and he faced his amazed +visitor from across it. “Now, Carlis, suppose you promote +yourself from my office!”</p> +<p>“Wh-what!” It was a mere toneless wheeze, but +breathing deep of brute strength.</p> +<p>“I told you when you first came in that this promised +to be one of my busiest days. You’re taking up my +time. To be sure, you’ve cleared up a few minor points +for me, and testified to them, but you haven’t really +told me anything I didn’t know. The game is up! +Now––get out!”</p> +<p>He braced himself, as he spoke, to meet the mountain +of flesh which hurled itself upon him in a blind rush of +Berserk rage––braced himself, met and countered it. +Never had that spacious office––the scene of so many +heartrending appeals, dramatic climaxes, impassioned +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_288' name='page_288'></a>288</span> +confessions and violent altercations––witnessed so terrific +a struggle, brief as it was.</p> +<p>“I’ll kill you!” roared the maddened brute. “You’ll +never leave your office, alive, to repeat what I’ve told! +I’ll kill you, with my bare hands, first, d––n you!”</p> +<p>But even as he spoke, his voice ended in a surprised +scream of agony, which told of strained sinews and +ripped tendons, and he fell in a twisted, crumpled heap +of quivering, inert flesh at the detective’s feet, the victim +of a scientific hold and throw which had not been included +in his pugilistic education.</p> +<p>Instantly Blaine’s hand found an electric bell in the +wall, and almost simultaneously the door opened and +three powerful figures sprang upon the huge, recumbent +form and bound him fast.</p> +<p>“Take him away,” ordered the detective. “I’ll have +the warrant ready for him.”</p> +<p>“Warrant for what?” spluttered Carlis, through +bruised and bleeding lips. “I didn’t do anything to +you! You attacked me because I wouldn’t swear to a +false charge. I got a legal right to try to defend myself!”</p> +<p>“You’ve convicted yourself, out of your own mouth,” +retorted Blaine.</p> +<p>The other looked into his eyes and quailed, but +blustered to the end.</p> +<p>“Nobody heard, but you, and my word goes, in this +town! What d’you mean––convicted myself?”</p> +<p>For answer Blaine again touched that little spring in +the protruding under-ledge of his desk, and out upon the +trenchant stillness, broken only by the rapid, stertorous +breathing of the manacled man, burst the strident tones +of that same man’s voice, just as they had sounded a +few minutes before:</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_289' name='page_289'></a>289</span></div> +<p>“‘But the big money––the money Lawton made by +grinding down the masses––wouldn’t you like a slice +of it yourself, Blaine––a nice, fat, juicy slice.... +Oh, we’re all in it, you may as well be!... The play +got too high for Rockamore, and he cashed in; you’ve +bluffed old Mallowe till he’s looking up sailing dates for +Algiers, but I knew you’d be sensible, when it came to +the scratch, and divide the pot, rather than blow your +whistle and have the game pulled.... Who made it +possible for Mallowe to palm off those miles of vacant +lots––as improved city property, of course––on Lawton +without his knowledge, and even have them recorded +in his name, but me? What am I boss for, if I don’t +own a little man like the Recorder of Deeds?’”</p> +<p>“What is it?” gasped the wretched Carlis, in a +fearful whisper, when the voice had ceased. “What is +that––infernal thing?”</p> +<p>“A detectaphone,” returned Blaine laconically. +“You’ve heard of them, haven’t you, Carlis? When +you asked me if we were alone, if any of my operatives +were spying about, I told you that no human ear overheard +our conversation. But this little concealed instrument––this +unseen listener––recorded and bore +witness to your confession; and this is a Recorder you +do not own, and cannot buy!”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_290' name='page_290'></a>290</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XX_THE_CREVICE' id='CHAPTER_XX_THE_CREVICE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XX</h2> +<h3>THE CREVICE</h3> +</div> +<p class="dropcapq" ><small>“</small><span class="drop">B</span><span class="dcap">ut I</span> don’t understand”––Guy Morrow’s voice +was plaintive, and he eyed his chief reproachfully, +as he stood before Blaine’s desk, twisting +his hat nervously––“why you didn’t nail him! +You’ve got the goods on him, all right; and now, just +because you only had him arrested on a charge of assault +with intent to kill, he’s gone and used his influence, and +got himself released under heavy bail. Oh, why won’t +you go heeled or guarded? We can’t afford to lose you, +sir, any of us, and now he’ll do for you, as sure as shooting!”</p> +<p>“Who––Carlis?” Blaine spoke almost absently, as +if the portentous scene of two hours before had already +almost slipped from his memory. “Oh, he won’t get +away, and I’m not afraid of him! I let him go for the +same reason that I didn’t have Mallowe arrested this +morning––for the same reason why I haven’t stopped +Paddington’s philandering with the French girl, Fifine: +because a link is still missing in the chain; the shell, the +exterior of the whole conspiracy is in the hollow of my +hand, but I can’t find the chink, the crevice into which +to insert my lever and split it apart, lay the whole dastardly +scheme irrefutably open to the light of day. I +want to complete my case: in other words, Guy––I +want to win!”</p> +<p>“And you will, sir; you’ve never failed yet! Only I––I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_291' name='page_291'></a>291</span> +don’t have any luck!” The young man’s haggard +face grew wistful. “I want Emily Brunell; I need her––and +I seem farther from finding her than ever!”</p> +<p>“I didn’t know that was your job!” the detective objected, +with a brusqueness which was not unkind. “I +told you I’d take care of that, in my own way. I +thought I assigned you to the task of finding out who +fired at you, from the darkened window of your own +room, when you were in Brunell’s house across the street; +also I wanted a line on those two mysterious boarders +of Mrs. Quinlan’s.”</p> +<p>“Nothing doing on either count, sir,” Morrow returned, +ruefully. “I can’t get a glimpse of them, or a +line on either of them; and as for who tried to plug me––well, +there isn’t an iota of evidence, that I can discover, +beyond the bare fact. I didn’t come to report, for +there’s nothing to say, except that I’m sticking at it, +and if I don’t get a sight of those two before long I’m +going to burn a red sulphur light some fine night, and +yell ‘fire!’ I bet that’ll bring the old codger out, for +all his rheumatism!”</p> +<p>“Not a bad idea,” Blaine commented, adding dryly: +“What did you come for, then, Guy?”</p> +<p>“To find out if you had any news you were willing to +tell me yet, sir––of Emily?”</p> +<p>“Yes.” The detective’s slow smile was quizzical. +“The most significant news in the world.”</p> +<p>“You’ve discovered their destination––hers and her +father’s?” the young operative cried eagerly. “You +traced their taxi, of course!”</p> +<p>“No.”</p> +<p>“Then what is it?”</p> +<p>“Just that, Guy––that I haven’t been able to trace +the taxicab in which they left their house. Think it +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_292' name='page_292'></a>292</span> +over. Report to me when you’ve got anything definite +to tell me.”</p> +<p>With a curt nod Blaine dismissed him, but he glanced +after the dejected, retreating figure with a very kindly, +affectionate light in his fatherly eyes. It was dusk when +he was aroused from a deep study of his carefully annotated +résumé of the case by the excited jangle of the +telephone bell, to hear Guy Morrow’s no less excited but +joyous voice at the other end of the wire.</p> +<p>“I’ve found her! I’ve found Emily! She loves me! +She does! I made her listen, and she understands everything! +She don’t mind a bit about my hounding her +father down, because she sees how it all had to be, and the +old man’s a regular brick about it!”</p> +<p>“Where––”</p> +<p>“It was the kitten did it––that blessed Caliban! +And think of it, sir; I’ve always hated cats, ever since I +was a kid! Emily says––”</p> +<p>“But how––”</p> +<p>“Maybe if the hall had been lighted––but Mrs. +Quinlan’s got that parsimony peculiar to all landladies––and +I trod on its tail, and it was all up!”</p> +<p>“Morrow, are you a driveling idiot, or an operative? +Are you reporting, or exploding? If you called me up +to tell me that you trod on the tail of your landlady’s +parsimony, you don’t need a job in a detective bureau; +you need a lunacy commission!” Blaine’s voice was +vexed, but little smiling lines crinkled at the corners of +his eyes.</p> +<p>“I beg your pardon, sir; I am almost crazy, I think––with +happiness. I’ve found Mr. Jimmy Brunell and +his daughter. They are the two mysterious boarders +whom Mrs. Quinlan has been shielding all this time, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_293' name='page_293'></a>293</span> +I never even suspected it! It was Jimmy Brunell who +fired at me that night of the day they disappeared. He +didn’t recognize me, and thought I was one of his enemies––one +of Paddington’s men, like young Charley Pennold.</p> +<p>“You remember, I told you I found the kitten in the +deserted house and brought it home for Mrs. Quinlan to +take care of? Well, she never lights the gas until the +very last minute, and late this afternoon, about half an +hour ago, I was stumbling along the second-floor hallway +to my room in the dark, when I stepped on the kitten. +It yelled like mad, and Emily heard it from her room +above. Forgetting caution and everything else, she +opened the door and called it!</p> +<p>“Of course, when I heard her voice, I was upstairs +two steps at a time, with the cat under my arm clawing +like a vixen. She was perfectly freezing at first––not +the cat; it’s a he; I mean Emily. But after I explained +that when I’d gotten to care for her I only tried to help +her, she––oh, well, I’m going to let her tell you herself, +if you’re willing, sir! I’ll bring them both down to you +now, if you say so, she and her father. Jimmy Brunell’s +more than anxious to see you; he wants to make a clean +breast of the whole affair––tell all he knows about the +case; and I think what he’s got to say will astonish you +and finish the whole thing––crack that nut you were +talking to me about this afternoon, provide the link in +the chain, the crevice in the crime cube! May I bring +them?”</p> +<p>Blaine acquiesced, and after issuing his orders to the +subordinates about him, waited in a fever of impatience +which he could scarcely control, and which, had he +stopped to think of it, would have astonished him beyond +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_294' name='page_294'></a>294</span> +measure. That he––who had daily, almost hourly, +awaited unmoved the appearance of men famous and infamous, +illustrious and obscure, should so agitatedly +view the coming of this old offender, was incomprehensible.</p> +<p>Yet although he had really learned little that was conclusive +from Guy’s somewhat incoherent account, he felt, +in common with his young operative, that the crux of the +matter lay here, to his hand, that from the lips of this +old ex-convict would fall the magic word which would +open to him the inner door of this mystery of mysteries––which +would prove, as the golden key of truth, absolute +and unassailable.</p> +<p>After what seemed an incredibly long period of suspense, +the door opened and Marsh ushered them in––Morrow, +his face wreathed in triumph and smiles; a +brown-haired, serene-eyed girl whom Blaine remembered +from his memorable interview with her at the Anita Lawton +Club; and a tall, grizzled, smooth-shaven man, who +held himself proudly erect, as if the weight of years had +fallen from his shoulders.</p> +<p>“Yes, sir, I’m Brunell,” the latter announced, when +the incidental salutations were over, “––Jimmy Brunell, +the forger. I’ve lived straight, and tried to keep the +truth from my little girl, for her own sake, but perhaps +it is better as it is. She knows everything now, and has +forgiven much, because she’s a woman like her mother, +God bless her! I’ve come of my own free will, to tell +you all you want to know, and prove it, too!”</p> +<p>“Sit down, all of you. Brunell, you forged the signature +to the mortgage on Pennington Lawton’s home, +at Paddington’s instigation?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir. And the signature on the note given for +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_295' name='page_295'></a>295</span> +the loan from Moore, and the whole letter supposed to be +from Mr. Lawton to Mallowe, asking him to procure +that loan for him, and all the other crooked business +which helped sweep Mr. Lawton’s fortune away. But I +didn’t understand how big the job was, nor just what +they were trying to put over, or I wouldn’t have done it. +I wish to heaven I hadn’t, now, but it’s too late for that; +I can only do what’s left me to help repair the damage. +I wish I’d taken the consequences Paddington threatened +me with, through Charley Pennold––curse them both!</p> +<p>“For it wasn’t because of the money I did it, sir, +although what they offered me was a small fortune, and +would have been a mighty hard temptation in the old +days. It was because if I refused they were going to +strike at me through my little girl, the one thing on earth +I’ve got left to love! They were going to have me sent +up on an old score which no one else even had suspected +I’d been mixed up in. I didn’t know––until just now +when this young friend here, Mr. Morrow, told me––that +it had been outlawed long years ago, and I can see +that they counted on my not knowing. How they found +out about it, anyway, is a mystery to me, but that Paddington +is the devil himself! However, if I didn’t do +the trick for them, they’d have me convicted, and once +out of the way, my little girl would be helpless in their +hands. They talked of sweatshops, and worse––”</p> +<p>The old man broke down, and shuddering, covered his +face with his thin fingers. But in a moment, before the +pitying, outstretched hand of his daughter could reach +his shoulder, he had regained control of himself, and +resumed:</p> +<p>“I did what they asked of me––all they asked. But +I was suspicious, not only because they didn’t take me +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_296' name='page_296'></a>296</span> +fully into their confidence, but because I knew Paddington +and his breed; and also, Miss Lawton had been kind +to my little girl. If they meant any harm to Pennington +Lawton’s daughter, or if their scheme, whatever kind +of a hold-up it was, failed to pan out as they expected, +and they tried to make me the scape-goat––well, I meant +to protect myself and Lawton. My word would have +to be proof against theirs that they forced me into what +I did, but I could fix it so that I could prove to anybody, +without any doubt, that Lawton never wrote that note to +Mallowe from Long Bay about that loan two years ago, +and that would sort of substantiate my word that the +signatures weren’t his, either.”</p> +<p>“How could you prove such a thing?” Blaine +leaned forward tensely.</p> +<p>“Young Morrow, here, tells me that you’ve got that +note––the note asking Mallowe to arrange the loan for +Lawton. Will you get it, please, sir? I don’t want to +see it; I want you to read it to me, and then I’ll tell you +something about it. They thought they were clever, +the rascals, but I fooled them at their own game! I cut +out the words from a bundle of Lawton’s old letters +which they gave me, and I manufactured the note, all +right. I did it, word for word, just like they wanted +me to––but I put my <i>own private mark</i> on it, that they +couldn’t discover, so that I could prove anywhere, any +time, that it was a forgery!”</p> +<p>In a concealed fever of excitement, the detective produced +the fateful note from his private file.</p> +<p>“That looks like it!” chuckled old Jimmy. “It’s +dated August sixteenth, nineteen hundred and twelve, +isn’t it? Now, sir, will you read it out loud, please?”</p> +<p style='margin-bottom: 1em' >Blaine unfolded the single sheet of hotel note-paper, +and looked once more at the following message:</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_297' name='page_297'></a>297</span></div> +<div style='width:27em; margin: 1em 0 1em 2.5em;'> +<p class='typewriter'> +My Dear Mallowe:<br /><br /> + +Kindly regard this letter as strictly<br /> +confidential. I desire to negotiate a private loan immediately,<br /> +for a considerable amount,–three hundred<br /> +and fifty thousand dollars, in fact,–but<br /> +for obvious reasons, which you, as a man of<br /> +discretion and financial astuteness second to<br /> +none in this country, will readily understand, a<br /> +public assumption of it by me would be disastrous<br /> +to a degree, under the prevailing conditions. Ask<br /> +Moore if he can arrange the matter for me, but<br /> +feel him out tentatively first. If he does not see<br /> +his way clear to it, let me know without delay,<br /> +and I will come to Illington and confer with<br /> +you.<br /><br /> + +I am prepared, of course, to give him my personal<br /> +note for same, but do not desire any direct<br /> +dealings with him. In fact, it would be exceedingly<br /> +dangerous to my interests if he ever mentioned<br /> +it to me personally, even when he fancied<br /> +himself alone with me. Impress this upon him.<br /> +I will pay far above the legal rate of interest, of<br /> +course. You can arrange this with him.<br /> + +I will go into the whole matter of this contingency<br /> +confidentially with you when I see you. In<br /> +the meantime, I know that I can rely upon you.<br /><br /> + +Awaiting the earliest possible reply, and thanking<br /> +you for the interest I know you will take<br /> +in this affair,<br /></p> + +<p class='typewriter' style='text-align:right; margin-right: 10em;'>Sincerely, your friend,<br /><br />Pennington Lawton.</p> +</div> +<p style='margin-top: 1em' >After glancing at it a moment Blaine read the letter +aloud in a calm, unemotional voice which gave no hint +of the tumult within him. He had scarcely finished when +Jimmy Brunell, greatly excited, interrupted triumphantly:</p> +<p>“That’s it! That’s the note! Don’t see anything +phony about it, do you, sir? Neither did they! Now, +leave out the ‘My dear Mallowe,’ and beginning with the +next as the first line, count down five lines. The last +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_298' name='page_298'></a>298</span> +letter of the last word on that line is <i>f</i>, <i>isn’t it</i>? Omit a +line and take the last letter of the next, and so on for +four letters––that is, the last words of the four alternate +lines beginning with the fifth from the top are: +<i>of</i>, <i>a</i>, <i>ask</i>, and <i>see</i>, and the last letters of those four spell +a word. That word is <i>fake</i>, and so is the note, and the +whole infernal business! <i>Fake</i>, from beginning to end! +I put my mark on it, sir, so it could be known for what +it is, in case of need. Now the need has come.”</p> +<p>“By Jove, so it is!” Guy Morrow cried, unable to +restrain himself longer. “You’re a wonder, Mr. Brunell!”</p> +<p>“You have rendered us a greater service than you +know,” supplemented Blaine, the while his pulses +throbbed in time to his leaping heart. The crevice! +The rift in the criminal’s almost perfected scheme, into +which he had succeeded in inserting the little silver +probe of his specialized knowledge, and disclosed to a +gaping world the truth! He had found it at last, and +his work was all but done.</p> +<p>“But what’s to happen to me now?” The exultation +had died out of his voice, and Jimmy Brunell looked suddenly +pinched and gray and tired, and very, very old. +“I don’t care much what happens to me, but my daughter––Emily––”</p> +<p>“I’ll take care of her, whatever happens!” Guy’s +heart was in his buoyant voice. “But you’ll be all +right. Don’t you worry! Haven’t you got Mr. Blaine +on your side?”</p> +<p>“I’ll try to see that you don’t suffer for your enforced +share in the Lawton conspiracy, Brunell. It seems to +me that you’ve already gone through trouble enough +on that score, great as was the damage you half-unwittingly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_299' name='page_299'></a>299</span> +wrought,” Blaine remarked, reassuringly––adding: +“But why didn’t you come forward before, and +give your testimony?”</p> +<p>“There wasn’t any court action,” the old man returned, +hesitatingly. “And besides, I was afraid to +come forward and tell what I knew, because of Emily. +I would have done it, though, as soon as I learned they +had robbed Miss Lawton of everything. I wasn’t sure +of that, you see.”</p> +<p>“One thing more!” Blaine pressed the bell which +would summon his secretary. “Why, if you had reformed, +did you keep in your possession all these years +your forging apparatus?”</p> +<p>“I had it taken care of for me while I served my term, +meaning to use it again when I came out. I was bitter +and revengeful, and I meant to do everybody up brown +that I could. But when I was free and found my––my +wife had gone and left me Emily, it seemed like a hostage +from her gentle spirit given to the world, that I wouldn’t +do any more wrong. I kept the plant because I didn’t +know how to dispose of it so no one else could use it, and +as the years went by, I got more and more scared at the +thought of it.</p> +<p>“I was afraid both ways––afraid it would be discovered, +but more afraid I’d be found out if I tried to get +rid of it. So I buried it in the cellar of my little shop +and did my level best to forget it. I’d almost succeeded +when, God knows how, Paddington found me. You +know the rest.”</p> +<p>“You rang, sir?” Marsh, the secretary, had entered +noiselessly.</p> +<p>“Yes. Have these two people––this young lady +and her father––conducted in my own limousine to my +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_300' name='page_300'></a>300</span> +house, and made comfortable there until I give you +further directions as to what I wish done concerning +them.”</p> +<p>Blaine cut short the old forger’s broken words of +gratitude in his brusquely kind fashion, but his heart +imaged always the light in the girl’s soft eyes as she +bent a parting glance upon him, like a benediction, before +the door closed.</p> +<p>“What are you going to do with them, sir?” young +Morrow asked anxiously when they were alone.</p> +<p>Henry Blaine paused a moment before replying.</p> +<p>“I might let him take his chance before the court, on +the strength of his years, and his having turned State’s +evidence voluntarily, Guy, but he’s an old offender, and +Carlis’ faction is strong. My racing car will make +ninety miles an hour, easily, and it can do it unmolested, +with my private sign on the hood. It can meet the +Canadian express at Branchtown at dawn. I’ve a little +farm in a nice community in Canada, not too isolated, +and I’m going to make it over to you as part of your +reward for your work on the Lawton case....</p> +<p>“No, don’t thank me! I’m sworn on the side of law +and order, but Justice is stern and sometimes blind because +she will not see. Remember, the Greatest Jurist +Himself recommended mercy!”</p> +<p>Soon afterward, as they sat discussing the wind-up +of the case, the subject of the second set of cryptograms +was broached, and Blaine smiled at Morrow’s utter bewilderment +concerning them.</p> +<p>“Still puzzling about those, Guy? They weren’t as +simple as the first one was, that of the system of odd-shaped +characters and dots. The later ones were the +more difficult because they were of no set system at all––I +mean no one system, but a primitive conglomeration, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_301' name='page_301'></a>301</span> +probably evolved by Paddington himself, based on script +music and also the old childish trick of writing letters +shaped like figures, which can be read by reversing the +paper, and holding it up to the light.</p> +<p>“Just a minute, and we’ll look at the two notes, the +one you found in Brunell’s room in the deserted cottage, +and the other which came to me in the cigarette box +meant for Paddington, from Mac Alarney. Then we’ll +be able to see how they were worked out. And you’ll see +that though they look extremely meaningless and confusing, +they are in reality extremely simple.”</p> +<p>As he spoke, Blaine produced them from his desk +drawer, and spread them out before him.</p> +<p>“Before you examine them,” he went on, “let me explain +the musical script idea on which they are fundamentally +based, in case you are unfamiliar with it. The +sign ‘&’ before a bar of music means that music is written +in the treble clef––that is, all the notes following +it are above the central <i>C</i> on the piano keyboard. +Thus”––here he drew rapidly on a scrap of paper and +passed a scrawled scale over to the interested operative.</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_7' id='linki_7'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/png308.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 367px; height: 75px;' /><br /> +</div> +<p>“The dot on the line below the five lines which are +joined together by the sign of the treble clef is <i>C</i>. The +dot on the space between that and the first of the five +lines is <i>D</i>. The dot on the first line is <i>E</i>; on the next +space is <i>F</i>, and so forth, in their alphabetical order on +the alternating lines and spaces. Do you see how easily, +they could be used as the letters of words in a cryptogram, +by any one of an ingenious turn of mind? Of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_302' name='page_302'></a>302</span> +course, each bar––that is, each section enclosed by +lines running straight up and down––represents a +word. Now for the rest of it:</p> +<p>“Leaving the script music idea aside, and taking the +characters not so represented in the cryptogram, we find +that ‘3’ when viewed from the under side of the paper +will look very much like an English <i>E</i>; 7 like <i>T</i>; 9 like +<i>P</i>; 2 like <i>S</i>, and so forth.</p> +<p>“Try it. Here is the first note, the one you found. +Puzzle out the musical notes by their alphabetical +nomenclature from the key I just gave you on the scrap +of paper there; then hold the note up to the light, and +read the other letters from the under side. Try it with +both notes, and tell me what you find.”</p> +<p>Guy took the papers, and wonderingly spelled out the +letters represented by the musical notes, from the scale +Blaine had given him. Then turning the pages over, he +held them up to the light, an exclamation of absorbed +interest escaping from him.</p> +<p>The great detective watched him in silence, until at +last, with a glowing sense of achievement, Guy read:</p> +<p>“‘Beat it at once. You are suspected. Detective +on trail. Rite old address. I am sending funds as +usual. If caught you get life sentence. Pad.’”</p> +<p>Blaine nodded.</p> +<p>“Now, the other.”</p> +<p>“‘Patient still unconscious. Consultation necessary +at once to save life. Should he die advise Reddy what +disposition to make of body. Mac.’”</p> +<p>The last cryptogram proved the more easily decipherable, +and when the young operative had read it aloud, +he looked up with a glowing face.</p> +<p>“By George, it’s a world-beater! What put you +on the right track?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_303' name='page_303'></a>303</span></div> +<p>“The last one. I realized then that they were afraid +the kidnaped man, Ramon Hamilton, who had been +grievously wounded, would die on their hands, and that +rather than face the results of such a contingency they +would attempt to obtain some obscure but experienced +medical aid, and in a way which would give the physician +no inkling of his patient’s identity or whereabouts. I +therefore sent out that circular letter to every doctor +in Illington, warning each one to come to me in the event +of his having received a mysterious summons. It +worked, as you know, and Doctor Alwyn responded.”</p> +<p>“Well, if you hadn’t been able to read the cryptogram, +sir, the Lord knows what would have happened!”</p> +<p>“And if you hadn’t trodden on the cat’s tail––” +Blaine suggested dryly.</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_8' id='linki_8'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/png310.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 363px; height: 63px;' /><br /> +</div> +<p>Guy glanced at him in sudden, swift comprehension.</p> +<p>“Why, look here, sir, I believe you knew that Emily +and her father were the two mysterious boarders at Mrs. +Quinlan’s, all the time! You said it was significant that +you hadn’t been able to trace the number of the taxicab +in which they had run away from the neighborhood! +There never was a taxicab in all Illington which couldn’t +be traced by its number! You knew, of course, that +that story of Mrs. Quinlan’s was a fake, and then when +I told you of the two concealed people there, you had it +all doped out! Oh, why didn’t you tell me?”</p> +<p>“Because I didn’t want you to precipitate matters +just then, Guy,” the detective responded, kindly. +“The house was watched––they couldn’t get away.”</p> +<p>“That’s a good one!” Young Morrow looked his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_304' name='page_304'></a>304</span> +self-disgust. “Hire operatives on your staff, sir, and +then have to set others to tail them, and see that they +don’t get into trouble! Heavens, what an idiot I am! +I’ve found out one thing, though, from those cryptograms”––he +pointed to the cipher notes on the desk. +“Music’s a cinch! I can read it already, and I’m going +to start in and learn how to play on something or other, +the first chance I get! There’s a fellow next door to +Mrs. Quinlan’s with a clarinet––” He paused, and his +face sobered as he added: “But I forgot! I sha’n’t +be there any more.”</p> +<p>Before Blaine could speak, there was a knock upon +the door, and Marsh entered with hurried circumspection. +There was a look of latent, shocked importance +upon his usually impassive face, and he carried in his +hand a newspaper which was still damp from the press.</p> +<p>“I beg your pardon, sir, but I thought you would +want to know at once. There’s been a murder! Paddington, +the private detective, was found in the Rhododendron +Alley, just off the Mall in the park, stabbed to +the heart!”</p> +<p>Henry Blaine took the paper and spread it out upon +the desk before him, as Guy Morrow, with a soft, low +whistle, turned away. The “extra” imparted little +more than the secretary’s announcement had done. +There was no known motive for the crime, no clue to +the murderer. When found, the man had been dead for +some hours.</p> +<p>“Well, sir,” observed Guy at last, when the secretary +had withdrawn, “one by one they’re getting away from +us––and by the same route. First Rockamore, now +Paddington!”</p> +<p>Blaine looked up with a grim smile.</p> +<p>“Putting a woman wise to anything is like lighting a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_305' name='page_305'></a>305</span> +faulty time-fuse: you never can tell when you’re going +to get your own fingers blown off! But tell me something, +Guy. What was that tune you whistled a moment +ago, when Marsh came in with the news? It had a +vaguely familiar ring.”</p> +<p>“Oh, that?” asked the operative, with a sheepishly +guileless air. “It was just a bit from an English +musical comedy of two or three years back, I think. +It’s got a silly-sounding name––something like +‘There’s a Boat Sails on Saturday––’”</p> +<p>Blaine’s wry smile broadened to a grin of genuine +appreciation, and rising, he clapped the young man +heartily on the shoulder.</p> +<p>“Right you are, Guy! And it won’t be our job to +search the sailing lists. You may not always be able to +see what lies under your nose, but your perspective is +not bad. Hell has only one fury worse than a woman +scorned, that I know of, and that is a woman fooled! +We’ll let it go at that!”</p> +<p>The evening had already grown late, but that eventful +day was not to end without one more brief scene of vital +import. Marsh presently reappeared, this time bearing +a card.</p> +<p>“‘Mr. Mallowe,’” read Blaine, with a half-smile. +“Show him in, Marsh, and have your men ready. You +know what to do. No, Guy, you needn’t go. This interview +will not be a private one.”</p> +<p>“Mr. Blaine!” Mallowe entered pompously and +then paused, glancing rather uncertainly from the detective +to Morrow. It needed no keen observer to note +the change in the man since the scene of that morning, at +Miss Lawton’s. He had become a mere shell of his former +self. The smug unctuousness was gone; the jaunty +side-whiskers drooped; his chalk-like skin fell in flabby +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_306' name='page_306'></a>306</span> +folds, and his crafty eyes shifted like a hunted animal’s.</p> +<p>“Mr. Blaine, I had hoped for a strictly confidential +conference with you, but I presume this person to be +one of your trusted assistants, and it is immaterial now––the +matter upon which I have come is too pressing! +Scandal, notoriety must be averted at all costs! I find +that a frightful, a hideous mistake has been made, and +I am actually upon the point of being involved in a conspiracy +as terrible as that of which my poor friend Pennington +Lawton was the victim! And I am as innocent +as he! I swear it!”</p> +<p>“You may as well conserve your strength and your +strategic ingenuity for the immediate future, Mr. Mallowe. +You’ll need both,” Blaine returned, coolly. “If +you’ve come here to make any appeal––”</p> +<p>“I’ve come to assert my innocence!” the broken man +cried with a flash of his old proud dignity. “I only +learned this evening of the truth, and that those scoundrels +Carlis and Rockamore had implicated me! How +a man of your discernment and experience could believe +for a moment that I was a party to any fraudulent––”</p> +<p>Blaine pressed the bell.</p> +<p>“There is no use in prolonging this interview, Mr. +Mallowe!” he said, curtly. “All the evidence is in my +hands.”</p> +<p>“But allow me to explain!” The flabby face grew +more deathlike, until the burning eyes seemed peering +from the face of a corpse.</p> +<p>Two men entered, and at sight of them, the former +pompous president of the Street Railways of Illington +plumped to his fat, quaking knees.</p> +<p>“For God’s sake, listen! You must listen, Blaine!” +he shrieked. “I am one of the prominent men of this +country! I have three married daughters, two of them +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_307' name='page_307'></a>307</span> +with small children! The disgrace, the infamy of this, +will kill them! I will make restitution; I will––”</p> +<p>“Pennington Lawton had one daughter, unmarried, +unprovided for! Did you think of <i>her</i>?” asked Blaine, +grimly. “I’m sorry for the innocent who must suffer +with you, Mr. Mallowe, but in this instance the law must +take its course. Lead him away.”</p> +<p>When the wailing, quavering voice had subsided behind +the closing door, Henry Blaine turned to young +Morrow with a weary look of pain, age-old, in his eyes.</p> +<p>“Unpleasant, wasn’t it?” he asked grimly. “I try +to school myself against it, but with all my experience, a +scene like this makes me sick at heart. I know the +wretch deserves what is coming to him, just as Rockamore +knew when he unfalteringly sped that bullet––just +as Carlis knew when he heard his own voice repeated +by the dictagraph. And yet I, who make my living, +and shall continue to make it, by unearthing malefactors; +I, who have built my career, made my reputation, +proved myself to be what I am by the detection and +punishment of wrong-doing––I wish with all my heart +and soul, before God, that there was no such thing as +crime in all this fair green world!”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_308' name='page_308'></a>308</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXI_CLEARED_SKIES' id='CHAPTER_XXI_CLEARED_SKIES'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXI</h2> +<h3>CLEARED SKIES</h3> +</div> +<p class="dropcap" ><span class="dcap">Just</span> as in autumn, the period of Indian summer +brings a reminiscent warmth and sunshine, so +sometimes in late winter a day will come now and +then which is a harbinger of the not far-distant springtide, +like a promise, during present storm and stress, of +better things to come.</p> +<p>Such a day, balmy and gloriously bright, found four +people seated together in the spacious, sunny morning-room +of a great house on Belleair Avenue. A young +man, pale and wan as from a long illness, but with a +new steadiness and clarity born of suffering in his eyes; +a girl, slender and black-robed, her delicate face flushing +with an exquisite, spring-like color, her eyes soft and +misty and spring-like, too, in their starry fulfillment of +love that has been tried and found all-sufficing; another +sable-clad figure, but clerically frocked and portly; and +the last, a keen-faced, kindly-eyed man approaching +middle-age––a man with sandy hair and a mustache +just slightly tinged with gray. He might, from his +appearance and bearing, have been a great teacher, a +great philanthropist, a great statesman. But he was +none of these––or rather, let us say, he was all, and +more. He was the greatest factor for good which the +age had produced, because he was the greatest instrument +of justice, the crime-detector of the century.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_309' name='page_309'></a>309</span></div> +<p>The pale young man moved a little in his chair, and +the girl laid her hand caressingly upon his blue-veined +one. She was seated close to him––in fact, Anita was +never willing, in these later days, to be so far from +Ramon that she could not reach out and touch him, as +if to assure herself that he was there, that he was safe +from the enemies who had encompassed them both, and +that her ministering care might shield him.</p> +<p>Doctor Franklin noted the movement, slight as it was, +and cleared his throat, importantly.</p> +<p>“Of course, my dear children,” he began, impressively, +“if it is your earnest desire, I will perform the +marriage ceremony for you here in this room at noon +to-morrow. But I trust you have both given the matter +careful thought––not, of course, as to the suitability +of your union, but the––I may say, the manner of it! +A ceremony without a social function, without the customary +observances which, although worldly and filled +with pomp and vanity, nevertheless are befitted by usage, +in these mundane days, to those of your station in +life, seems slightly unconventional, almost––er––unseemly.”</p> +<p>“But we don’t care for the pomp and vanity, and the +social observances, and all the rest of it, do we, Ramon?” +the girl asked.</p> +<p>Ramon Hamilton smiled, and his eyes met and held +hers.</p> +<p>“We only want each other,” he said quietly.</p> +<p>“But it seems so very precipitate!” the clergyman +urged, turning as if for moral support to the impassive +figure of Henry Blaine. “So soon after the shadow of +tragedy has crossed this threshold! What will people +say?”</p> +<p>A little vagrant breeze, like a lost, unseasonable butterfly, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_310' name='page_310'></a>310</span> +came in at the open window and stirred the filmy +curtain, bearing on its soft breath the odor of narcissus +from the bloom-laden window-box.</p> +<p>“Oh, Doctor Franklin!” cried the girl, impulsively. +“Don’t talk of tragedy just now! Spring is so near, +and we love each other so! If he––my dear, dead +father––can hear, he will understand, and wish it to +be so!”</p> +<p>“As you will.” The minister rose. “I gave you +your name, Anita. I consecrated your father’s soul to +Heaven, and his body to the dust, and I will give his +daughter in marriage to the man he chose for her protector, +whenever it is your will. But, Mr. Blaine, what +do you say? You seem to have more influence over +Miss Lawton than I, although I can scarcely understand +it. Don’t you agree with me that the world will +talk?”</p> +<p>“I do!” responded Henry Blaine fervently. “And +I say––let it! It can say of these two children only +what I do––bless you, both! Sorrow and suffering +and tragedy have taken their quota of these young +lives––now let a little happiness and joy and sunshine +and love in upon the circumspect gloom you would still +cast about them! You ministers are steeped in the +spiritual misery of the world, the doctors in the physical; +but we crime-specialists are forced to drink of it to +its dregs, physical, mental, moral, spiritual! And there +is so much in this tainted, sin-ridden world of ours that +is beautiful and pure and happy and holy, if we will but +give it a chance!”</p> +<p>Doctor Franklin coughed, in a severely condemnatory +fashion.</p> +<p>“Now that I have learned your opinion, in a broad, +general way, Mr. Blaine, I can understand your point +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_311' name='page_311'></a>311</span> +of view in regard to that young criminal, Charles Pennold, +when at the time of the trial you used your influence +to have him paroled in your custody, instead of +being sent to prison, where he belonged.”</p> +<p>“Exactly.” Blaine’s tone was dry. “I firmly believe +that there are many more young boys and men in +our prisons, who should in reality be in hospitals, or in +sheltering, uplifting, sympathetic hands, than there are +criminals unpunished. And you, with your broadly, +professionally charitable point of view, Doctor,” he +added with keen enjoyment, “will, I am convinced, be +delighted to know that Charley Pennold is doing splendidly. +He will develop in time into one of my most +trusted, capable operatives, I have no doubt. He has +the instinct, the real nose, for crime, but circumstances +from his birth and even before that, forced him on the +wrong side of the fence. He was, if you will pardon +the vernacular, on the outside, looking in. Now he’s +on the inside, looking out!”</p> +<p>“I sincerely trust so!” the minister responded +frigidly and turned to the others. “I will leave you +now. If it is your irrevocable desire to have the ceremony +at noon to-morrow, I will make all the necessary +arrangements. In fact, I will telephone you later, when +everything is settled.”</p> +<p>“Oh, thank you, Dr. Franklin! I knew you wouldn’t +fail us!” Anita murmured. “Don’t forget to tell Mrs. +Franklin that she will hear from me. She must surely +come, you know!”</p> +<p>When the door had closed on the minister’s broad, +retreating back, Ramon Hamilton turned with a suspicion +of a flush in his wan cheeks, to the detective.</p> +<p>“If I’d gone to any Sunday school he presided over, +when I was a kiddie, I’d have been a train-robber now!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_312' name='page_312'></a>312</span> +he observed darkly. “I’m glad you lit into him about +young Pennold, Mr. Blaine. He started it!”</p> +<p>“But think of the others!” Anita Lawton turned +her face for a moment to the spring-like day outside. +“Mr. Mallowe dead in his cell from apoplexy, Mr. +Carlis imprisoned for life, Mac Alarney and all the rest +facing long years behind gray walls and iron bars––oh, +I know it is just; I remember what they did to my +father and to me; and yet somehow in this glorious sunshine +and with all the ages and ages just as bright, +spreading before me, I can find charity and mercy in my +heart for all the world!”</p> +<p>“Charity and mercy,” repeated Ramon soberly. +“Yes, dearest. But not liberty to continue their +crimes––to do to others what they did to us!”</p> +<p>A spasm of pain crossed his face, and she bent over +him solicitously.</p> +<p>“Oh, what is it, Ramon? Speak to me!”</p> +<p>“Nothing, dear, it’s all right now. Just a twinge of +the old pain.”</p> +<p>“Those murdering fiends, who made you suffer so!” +she cried, and added with feminine illogicality: “I’m +<i>not</i> sorry, after all, that they’re in prison! I’m glad +they’ve got their just deserts. Oh, Ramon, I’ve been +afraid to distress you by asking you, but did you tell +the truth at the trial––all the truth, I mean? Was +that really all you remember?”</p> +<p>“Yes, dear,” he replied a trifle wearily. “When I +left Mr. Blaine’s office that day, I was hurrying along +Dalrymple Street, when just outside the Colossus Building, +a boy about fifteen––that one who is in the reformatory +now––collided with me. Then he looked up +into my face, and grasped my arm.</p> +<p>“‘You’re Mr. Hamilton, aren’t you?’ he gasped. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_313' name='page_313'></a>313</span> +‘Oh, come quick, sir! Mr. Ferrand’s had a stroke or +something, and I was just running to get help. You +don’t remember me, I guess. I’m Mr. Ferrand’s new +office-boy, Frankie Allen. You was in to see him about +ten days ago, don’t you remember?’</p> +<p>“Well, as I told you, ’Nita dearest, old Mr. Ferrand +was one of my father’s best friends. His offices were in +the Colossus Building, and I <i>had</i> been in to see him +about ten days before––so in spite of Mr. Blaine’s +warning, I was perfectly unsuspecting. Of course, I +didn’t remember his office-boy from Adam, but that fact +never occurred to me, then. I went right along with the +boy, and he talked so volubly that I didn’t notice we +had gotten into the wrong elevator––the express––until +its first stop, seven floors above Mr. Ferrand’s. +They must have staged the whole thing pretty well––Carlis +and Paddington and their crew––for when I +stepped out of the express elevator, there was no one in +sight that I remember but the boy who was with me. I +pressed the button of the local, which was just beside +the express––there was a buzz and whirring hum as if +the elevator had ascended, and the door opened. As I +stepped over its threshold, I felt a violent blow and +terrific pain on the back of my head, and seemed to fall +into limitless space. That was all I knew until I woke +up in the hospital where Mr. Blaine had taken me after +discovering and rescuing me, to see your dear face bending +over mine!”</p> +<p>“One of Paddington’s men was waiting, and hit you +on the head with a window-pole, as you stepped into the +open elevator shaft,” Blaine supplemented. “It was +all a plant, of course. You only fell to the roof of the +elevator, which was on a level with the floor below. +There they carried you into the office of a fake company, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_314' name='page_314'></a>314</span> +kept you until closing time, and got you out of the building +as a drunkard, conveying you to <a name='TC_10'></a><ins title="Was ''MacAlarney's'' in the original text">Mac Alarney’s</ins> retreat +in his own machine. Nobody employed in the +building was in their pay but the elevator man, and he’s +got his, along with the rest! Paddington’s scheme +wasn’t bad; if he’d only been on the square, he might +have made a very brilliant detective!”</p> +<p>“How terrible his death was!” Anita shuddered. +“And how unexplainable! No one ever found out who +stabbed him, there in the park, did they?”</p> +<p>Blaine did not reply. He knew that on the day following +the discovery of the murdered man, one Franchette +Durand, otherwise Fifine Déchaussée, had sailed +for Havre on the ill-fated <i>La Tourette</i>, which had gone +to the bottom in mid-ocean, with all on board. He knew +also that an hour before the French girl’s last tragic +interview with Paddington, she had discovered the +existence of his wife, for he himself had seen to it that +the knowledge was imparted to her. Further than that, +he preferred not to conjecture. The Madonna-faced +girl had taken her secret with her to her swiftly retributive +grave in the deep.</p> +<p>Blaine rose, somewhat reluctantly. Work called him, +and yet he loved to be near them in the rose-tinted high +noon of their happiness.</p> +<p>“I’ll be on hand to-morrow, indeed I will!” he promised +heartily, in response to their eager request.</p> +<p>“To-morrow! Just think!” Anita buried her +glowing face in her lover’s shoulder for an instant, and +then looked up with misty eyes. “Just think, if it +hadn’t been for you, Mr. Blaine, there wouldn’t be any +to-morrow! I don’t mean about your getting my +father’s money all back for me––I’m grateful, of +course, but it doesn’t count beside the greater thing you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_315' name='page_315'></a>315</span> +have given us! But for you, there would <i>never</i> have +been any––to-morrow.”</p> +<p>“That’s true!” The young man’s arm encircled +the girl’s slender waist as they stood together in the +glowing sunlight, but his other hand gripped the detective’s. +“We owe life, our happiness, the future, everything +to you!”</p> +<p>And so Henry Blaine left them.</p> +<p>At the door he turned and glanced back, and the +sight his eyes beheld was a goodly one for him to carry +away with him into the world––a sight as old as the +ages, as new as the hour, as prescient as the hours and +ages to come. Just a man and a maid, sunshine and +happiness, youth and love!––that, and the light of undying +gratitude in the eyes they bent upon him.</p> +<p> </p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_9' id='linki_9'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-cvr.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 251px; height: 384px;' /><br /> +<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center; width: 251px;'> +Transcriber’s Note: Image of the original Book Cover.<br /> +</p> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class="trnote"> +<p><span style='font-weight:bold'>Transcriber’s Notes:</span></p> +Archaic and variable spelling, as well as inconsistency in hyphenation, has been preserved as printed in the original book except as indicated in this text with a solid black line under the change. Hover the mouse over the word and the original text will <ins title="like this">appear</ins>. +<p>Missing and extra quote marks, along with minor punctuation irregularities, were silently corrected. However, punctuation has not been changed to comply with modern conventions.</p> +<p>A List of Illustrations was added and illustrations have been moved, when necessary, so that they are not in the middle of a paragraph.</p> +<hr class='invis' /> +<p><span style='font-weight:bold'>The following changes were made to the text.</span></p> +<hr class='invis2' /> +<p><a href='#TC_1'>Page 33</a>: Was “insignficant” in the original text (keep me informed of everything that occurs, no matter how <span style='font-weight:bold'>insignificant</span> or irrelevant it may seem to you to be.)</p> +<p><a href='#TC_2'>Page 48</a>: Was “rococco” in the original text (where the mushroom growth of the new city sprang up in rows of <span style='font-weight:bold'>rococo</span> brick and stone houses)</p> +<p><a href='#TC_3'>Page 96</a>: Was “Déchausée” in the original text (When the young stenographer had departed, Fifine <span style='font-weight:bold'>Déchaussée</span> appeared.)</p> +<p><a href='#TC_4'>Page 96</a>: Was “Déchausée” in the original text (If he makes any further attempt to talk with you, Mademoiselle <span style='font-weight:bold'>Déchaussée</span>, encourage him, draw him out.)</p> +<p><a href='#TC_5'>Page 171</a>: Was “d’ you” in the original text (What <span style='font-weight:bold'>d’you</span> s’pose brought him back?)</p> +<p><a href='#TC_6'>Page 205</a>: Was “Lawnot” in the original text (he took the telephone receiver from its hook and called up Anita <span style='font-weight:bold'>Lawton</span> at her home)</p> +<p><a href='#TC_7'>Page 233</a>: Was “offce” in the original text (three men came back to the house with me, and entered my <span style='font-weight:bold'>office</span>, where the burly one turned over to me ten five-hundred-dollar bills.)</p> +<p><a href='#TC_8'>Page 261</a>: Was “busines” in the original text (There is no blackmail about this––it is an ordinary <span style='font-weight:bold'>business</span> proposition.)</p> +<p><a href='#TC_9'>Page 279</a>: Was “<i>in loco parentis</i>” in the original text (Do not I and my friends stand <span style='font-weight:bold'>in <i>loco parentis</i></span> to her?)</p> +<p><a href='#TC_10'>Page 314</a>: Was “MacAlarney’s” in the original text (and got you out of the building as a drunkard, conveying you to <span style='font-weight:bold'>Mac Alarney’s</span> retreat in his own machine.)</p> +</div> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CREVICE***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 29331-h.txt or 29331-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/9/3/3/29331">http://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/3/3/29331</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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