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diff --git a/38577-h/38577-h.htm b/38577-h/38577-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..851897c --- /dev/null +++ b/38577-h/38577-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10147 @@ +<!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 Blue Lights by Arnold Fredericks - A Project Gutenberg eBook. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + hr.r15 {width: 15%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + hr.r65 {width: 65%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + + .extraspacetop {padding-top: 2em; } + .extraspace4top {padding-top: 4em; } + .extraspacebot {padding-bottom: 2em; } + .extraspace4bot {padding-bottom: 4em; } + .blockquote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + + .right {text-align: right;} + .center {text-align: center;} + + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + .cap:first-letter {float: left; clear: left; margin: -0.2em 0.1em 0; margin-top: 0%; + padding: 0; line-height: .75em; font-size: 300%; text-align: justify;} + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Blue Lights, by Arnold Fredericks + +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 www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Blue Lights + A Detective Story + +Author: Arnold Fredericks + +Illustrator: Will Grefé + +Release Date: January 15, 2012 [EBook #38577] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BLUE LIGHTS *** + + + + +Produced by Dianna Adair, Suzanne Shell, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries) + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + +<div class="figcenter extraspace4bot"> +<img src="images/covera.jpg" width="400" height="597" alt="Cover" title="Cover" /> +</div> + +<h1>THE BLUE LIGHTS</h1> + + +<div class="figcenter extraspacetop"> +<img src="images/illus01a.jpg" width="393" height="582" alt="A hasty examination of the sailing list showed her the astonishing +truth. Richard was not on board." title="" /> +</div> +<p class="center caption blockquote">A hasty examination of the sailing list showed her the astonishing +truth. Richard was not on board.</p> + +<hr class="r15" /> +<h1>THE<br /> + +BLUE LIGHTS</h1> + +<p class="extraspacetop center">BY<br /> + +<small>ARNOLD FREDERICKS</small></p> + +<p class="extraspacetop center">AUTHOR OF</p> + +<p class="center">THE IVORY SNUFF BOX, <span class="smcap">Etc.</span></p> + +<p class="center">ILLUSTRATIONS BY</p> + +<p class="center">WILL GREFÉ</p> + +<div class="figcenter" > +<img src="images/tp.png" width="50" height="22" alt="small graphic" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">NEW YORK</p> + +<p class="center">GROSSET & DUNLAP<br /> + +PUBLISHERS</p> + +<p class="center extraspace4top extraspace4bot"><span class="smcap">Copyright, 1915, by</span><br /> +W. J. WATT & COMPANY</p> + +<h1>THE BLUE LIGHTS</h1> + +<hr class="r15" /> +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> + + +<p class="cap extraspacetop">THE big, mud-spattered touring car, which +for the past hour had been plowing its +way steadily northward from the city of +Washington, hesitated for a moment before the +gateway which marked the end of the well kept +drive, then swept on to the house.</p> + +<p>A man, stoutly built, keen of eye, showing haste +in his every movement, sprang from the machine +and ascended the veranda steps.</p> + +<p>"Does Richard Duvall live here?" he inquired, +curtly, of the smiling old colored woman who +came to the door.</p> + +<p>"'Deed he do, suh. Does you want to see +him?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. At once, please. Tell him it is most +important. My name is Hodgman."</p> + +<p>The servant eyed him with cool disfavor. "Set<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> +down, suh," she remarked stiffly. "I'll tell him +you is here."</p> + +<p>The caller watched her, as she disappeared +into the house, then cast himself impatiently into +a chair and lit a cigar.</p> + +<p>He paid no attention to the attempts of two +clumsy collie puppies to attract his favorable +notice, but contented himself with making a quick +survey of the wide comfortable veranda, with its +big roomy chairs, the wicker table, bearing a +great jar of red peonies, the smooth green lawns, +swept by the late afternoon sun.</p> + +<p>"Fine old place," he muttered to himself. +"Wonder if I can persuade him to go?"</p> + +<p>As the car which had brought Mr. Hodgman +on his hasty trip from Washington dashed up to +the front of the house, Grace Duvall, looking +very charming in a blue linen dress, was just approaching +it from the rear.</p> + +<p>She held a pair of shears in her hand, and her +apron was filled to overflowing with hundred-leaf +roses. "Dick—oh, Dick!" she called, as she came +down the long avenue of syringas and lilacs which +led to the house. "The sweet peas are nearly +ready to bloom."</p> + +<p>Richard Duvall, looking as simply pastoral as +though he had never tracked an international<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span> +crook to cover, raised his head from the flower +bed, in which he had been carefully setting out +circle after circle of geranium plants.</p> + +<p>"Are they?" he laughed. "That's good. Now +all we need is a few good hot days." He gathered +up his trowel and rake, and started toward +the barn.</p> + +<p>Grace put her arm through her husband's and +together they strolled across the springy green +turf, their faces smiling and happy. The honeymoon +showed no signs of waning.</p> + +<p>This lovely old country place, in southern +Maryland, had been one of Richard Duvall's +dreams for many years, and after his marriage +to Grace Ellicott, in Paris, it had become hers, +as well. It was but a short time after their return +to America that they decided to make it a reality.</p> + +<p>Grace had encouraged her husband in the plan +of giving up, for a time at least, his warfare +against crime, his pursuit of criminals of the +higher and more dangerous type, and had persuaded +him to buy the farm which had once belonged +to his mother's people, and settle down to +the life of a country gentleman.</p> + +<p>His office was still maintained, under the able +direction of one of his assistants, but Duvall gave +little or no attention to its affairs. He was glad<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> +to withdraw, for the first time in over nine years, +from active work, and devote his energies to early +potatoes, prize dogs, hunters, and geranium plants—and, +above all, to the peaceful enjoyment of his +honeymoon, and the making of Grace the happiest +woman in the world.</p> + +<p>She, on her part, found in their present situation +all the joys of existence for which she had +longed. With little or no liking for the monotonous +round of society and its duties, and a passionate +love of nature, she found in the many +and complex duties of managing her part of their +extensive estate a far greater happiness than any +which city life could have offered her.</p> + +<p>The considerable fortune which her husband's +clever work while in Paris had restored to her, +had been safely invested in well paying securities, +and she found her greatest joy in utilizing at +least a part of her income in beautifying their new +home.</p> + +<p>Richard had steadily refused to make any use +of the money. It was a matter of pride with him, +that his own savings had enabled him to purchase +the property; but when Grace proposed to build +an addition to the house, to provide him with a +more comfortable library and work room, or +insisted upon having the roads throughout the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> +place elaborately macadamized, he was obliged +to submit to her wishes. In this way, they planned +and built for the future, together.</p> + +<p>The farm was a large one, comprising some +two hundred acres, and the old stone house surrounded +by white oaks and tulip poplars had once +been a show place, before the declining fortunes +of its former owners had caused it to fall into a +state of mellow and time-honored decay. Now +all was changed. Grace, with the able assistance +of old Uncle Abe Turner, a relic of ante bellum +times, spent hours daily in bringing order out of +the chaos of tangled myrtle and ivy, overgrown +box and hedge, thickets of syringa and lilac bushes +and weed-grown lawns.</p> + +<p>It was a gigantic task, yet a joyous one—as it +ever is, to those who came to it with the love of +nature in their hearts. To Grace, the plants and +shrubs, the great strong oaks, the towering poplars, +each seemed to have a distinct personality. +Under her energetic hand, the place once more +took on the aspect of well kept and orderly beauty +which was such a contrast to its former down-at-the-heels +appearance. It seemed as though the +growing things realized the personal interest she +took in them, and responded as they never respond +to the ignorant or unsympathetic.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span></p> + +<p>Richard was concerned with his fields of timothy +and clover, his early corn, his berries and fruit +trees, to say nothing of his collies, his prize cows +and Kentucky horses. In such a life, time never +hangs heavy—he was busy studying, planning, +working, from morning to night, and his active +mind soon convinced his capable overseer and the +farm hands as well that, although Richard Duvall +was by no means a professional farmer, he could +still show them a thing or two when it came to +the rotation of crops, the spraying of fruit trees, +or the proper treatment of worn out soils. These +were aspects of farming life which the hide-bound +conservatism of the local farmers caused them to +jeer at, as newfangled notions gotten from books. +Later when they saw the man who farmed with +his head as well as his hands gather in two bushels +where they had barely been able to secure one, +they began to sit up and take notice.</p> + +<p>"I got the new hedges all set out today," Grace +went on, as she patted her husband's rather grimy +hand. "They will be charming, against the gray +stone of the wall. But we must have new gate +posts. The old ones are likely to tumble into the +road at any moment."</p> + +<p>"I'll have Martin come out tomorrow and look +them over. There's plenty of stone—down in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> +lower pasture. Why not carry the wall right +along the whole front of the property? It ought +not to cost a great deal."</p> + +<p>"We will. And I'm going to have a new spring +house built, too. The old one is falling to +pieces." She looked up at her husband as he deposited +the rake in the tool room and they started +up the shaded walk toward the house. "Aren't +you glad, Dick, that we're <i>alive</i>?"</p> + +<p>He pressed her arm. "Well—I should say +so, little girl! Why do you ask me that?"</p> + +<p>"Oh—you know what your friends all said—that +a man might as well be dead, as buried out +here in the country. I think they are the ones +who are not alive—cooped up in the city. Don't +you?"</p> + +<p>Richard nodded. He was thinking for the +moment of his former active life—when some +battle of wits with a noted crook had kept him +sleepless for nights. "It's—rather different," he +laughed. "Isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—and much better. Don't you think so, +dear? You wouldn't want to go back to it—would +you?"</p> + +<p>"Not for anything in the world," he assured +her, as he swept the newly seeded lawns with a +contented glance. "I liked the other life, of course—the excitement,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> +the danger of it; but this is +better—much better. Here, Don!" he called to +a graceful collie which was barking vociferously at +some distant vehicle in the road. "Come here +and be quiet." He turned with Grace to the great +vine-covered side porch and sank contentedly into +a rocking chair. "Well, little girl—it's been a +busy day, and I'm tired. We got the early rye +all cut on the lower field today. Guess we'll put +in late potatoes, after it's plowed. Here, Don—come +back here! What's the matter with you?" +He rose and whistled to the dog, which was bounding +across the lawn in the direction of the road. +"Come back, I say!"</p> + +<p>"It's someone coming in," said Grace, uneasily. +"In a machine. I wonder who it can be?"</p> + +<p>"Possibly Hudson, the veterinary. He was +coming today, to look at that heifer."</p> + +<p>"He hasn't a machine like that. This is a big +touring car." She turned to her husband. +"Hadn't you better go in and fix up a bit, Dick? +It may be company."</p> + +<p>Duvall laughed. "If it is, they'll have to take +me as I am," he said; then again called to the dog.</p> + +<p>A moment later the servant, who had interviewed +the caller at the front door, came out to +the side porch. "Gentleman to see you, Mr. Duvall,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> +she said. "Seems to be in a powerful +hurry, too."</p> + +<p>"All right, Aunt Lucy," said Duvall as he made +his way to the front of the house.</p> + +<p>"Is this Richard Duvall?" the visitor asked, +in a quick, almost peremptory tone, as the detective +joined him.</p> + +<p>"Yes. That is my name. What can I do for +you?"</p> + +<p>The newcomer rose nervously from his chair +and began chewing upon his half-smoked cigar. +"Had the devil of a time to find you, Mr. Duvall."</p> + +<p>"You came out from Washington, I suppose," +remarked the detective, wondering what his visitor +could want with him.</p> + +<p>"Yes. Got your address from Hicks, of the +Treasury Department. He said you were about +twelve miles out. I seem to have come about +twenty."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you went around by way of Laurel. +It's much further, that way. What can I do +for you, Mr.——" He paused interrogatively.</p> + +<p>The man looked up at him quickly. "My +name's Hodgman—Thomas Hodgman—of New +York. I represent John Stapleton."</p> + +<p> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span>"John Stapleton, the banker?" asked Duvall, +surprised.</p> + +<p>"Yes. You know him, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Quite well. I handled a case for him +once—some years ago. Why?" Duvall's face +became grave. He began to realize that the interview +was likely to become suddenly important. +John Stapleton, the multi-millionaire banker, was +not in the habit of sending messengers to anyone, +without good reason.</p> + +<p>"So he said," went on Mr. Hodgman, resuming +his chair. "That's why I'm here. He wants you +to take another—"</p> + +<p>"Another?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Another case. Quick."</p> + +<p>"It's quite out of the question."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense! This is important. Money's no +object; name your own terms."</p> + +<p>"It isn't a question of terms, Mr. Hodgman. +I have withdrawn, for the time being at least, +from active professional work."</p> + +<p>"I know." The visitor flicked the ashes impatiently +from his cigar and sought nervously in +his pockets for a match. "That's what they told +me at your office, in New York. Said you were +on your honeymoon, and didn't want to be bothered."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span>"That's true. I don't."</p> + +<p>"I told Mr. Stapleton that. He sent me to see +you; said you might change your mind, when you +heard about the case."</p> + +<p>"It is quite impossible. I do not care to take +up any detective work at present."</p> + +<p>Mr. Hodgman fidgeted nervously in his chair. +"You must listen to what I have to say, Mr. +Duvall, at any rate. Mr. Stapleton would not +hear to my returning, after seeing you, without +having explained to you the nature of the +case."</p> + +<p>Duvall leaned back, and began to fondle the +long moist nose of the collie which sat beside his +chair. "If you insist, Mr. Hodgman, I will listen, +of course; but I assure you it will be quite useless."</p> + +<p>"I hope not. The case is most distressing. +Mr. Stapleton's only child has been kidnapped!"</p> + +<p>"Kidnapped!" Duvall sat up with a start, +every line of his face tense with professional interest. +"When? Where?"</p> + +<p>"In Paris. The cablegram arrived this morning. +I don't know the details. Mrs. Stapleton +has been spending the winter abroad. Mr. Stapleton +was to join her this month. She is living at +their house in the Avenue Kleber, Paris. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> +child was out walking with a nurse. It has been +stolen. That's all I know."</p> + +<p>"When did it happen?"</p> + +<p>"Yesterday morning. Mrs. Stapleton did not +cable at first, believing that the boy would be +found during the course of the day. Naturally +she did not wish to alarm her husband needlessly, +and the Prefect of Police, it seems, had assured +her that the child would undoubtedly be recovered +before night. It wasn't. This morning Mr. +Stapleton got a long cablegram from his wife, +telling him of the boy's disappearance. He's half +crazy over the thing."</p> + +<p>"What is he going to do?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. He sent me to see you at once. +I'm his secretary, you know. When I couldn't +find you in New York, he told me to come here. +I arrived in Washington an hour ago, and came +right out. Mr. Stapleton said if any man on +earth could find his boy for him, you could."</p> + +<p>"I suppose the thing is a matter of blackmail—ransom—"</p> + +<p>"Very likely. They will probably demand a +huge sum. No requests have been made, as yet, +so far as I know. These fellows usually wait a +week or two, before showing their hand, to give +the unfortunate parents a chance to worry themselves<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> +half to death. I suppose they figure that +then they'll be more likely to come across with +the money."</p> + +<p>"Yes. That's the scheme. A rotten business, +too. Hanging is too good for such wretches!"</p> + +<p>"That's what I say. Of course you can understand +how Mr. Stapleton feels."</p> + +<p>"Of course. He will sail at once, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"That's the worst of it. He can't go till Saturday. +Tomorrow's Thursday—that's three days +off. There's a deal on here involving millions—something +he's been working to put through for +months. Of course he doesn't consider anything +like that, when it comes to his child; but he's +got to think of his associates—men who have +intrusted their money to him. He can't possibly +sail before Saturday. He wants you to go ahead +of him. There's a fast boat leaving in the morning. +You could take that. We can have a conference tonight. +It will mean mighty quick work, +though." He glanced at his watch. "After six +now. There's no train till midnight—the sleeper. +But Mr. Stapleton told me to charter a special. +We can be in New York by one o'clock in the +morning, if we start right now." He looked at +Duvall in eager expectancy.</p> + +<p>The latter frowned, his gaze wandering off to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> +the distant fields, where the newly plowed earth +reminded him of his plans for the morrow. Yet +here was a man, a friend, who had helped him +much, in the earlier days of his career, begging +him to come to his assistance in a matter almost +of life or death. It was a difficult decision that +he was called upon to make. The thought of +leaving Grace hurt him deeply; yet she would prefer +to stay behind, in case he should go, to look +after the affairs of the place. With the assistance +of the overseer and the hands, he knew that she +could manage everything during a brief absence +on his part—it seemed unlikely that the matter +would require more than three or four weeks, at +the outside.</p> + +<p>Mr. Hodgman broke in upon his thoughts. +"You'll go, Mr. Duvall? Mr. Stapleton is depending +on you. He has the utmost faith in your +abilities. He knows your familiarity with Paris—the +work you have done there, in the past. He +believes that, by intrusting the matter to a fellow +countryman, he will get his boy back again. He +hasn't much faith in foreign detectives. He's set +his heart on having you start for Paris at once. +I can't go back and tell him that you have refused." +Mr. Hodgman spoke in a loud and earnest +voice, due to his very evident excitement.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> +Neither he nor Duvall noticed that Grace had +approached them, and was standing in the open +doorway of the house.</p> + +<p>Before the detective had an opportunity to +reply, Grace spoke. "What is it, Richard?" she +inquired, quietly.</p> + +<p>Duvall rose, presented Mr. Hodgman to his +wife, and bade her sit down. Then, in a few +words, he acquainted her with the circumstances +which led to the latter's visit.</p> + +<p>"Think of that poor mother, alone there in +Paris," Hodgman supplemented. "Think of her +suffering, her anxiety. I realize how much we +are asking, to take Mr. Duvall away from you, +especially at this time; but, it is Mr. Stapleton's +only child—a boy of six. You can understand +how he must feel."</p> + +<p>Grace nodded. "Yes, I can understand," she +said, slowly, then turned to her husband.</p> + +<p>"What do you think, dear?" he asked her.</p> + +<p>"I think, Richard, that you had better go."</p> + +<p>Mr. Hodgman sprang to his feet, and, coming +over to Grace, took her hand. He knew that his +battle was won. "I thank you, Mrs. Duvall," +he said, "on Mr. Stapleton's account, as well as +on my own. He will appreciate deeply what you +have done, the sacrifice you are making, and he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> +will not forget it." He looked again at his watch +nervously, the anxiety he felt clearly evident in +his every movement. "We had best start at once, +Mr. Duvall."</p> + +<p>Duvall rose. "I will join you in a short while, +Mr. Hodgman. I wish to say a few words to +my wife." He took Grace's arm and drew her +within the house, leaving Mr. Hodgman pacing +nervously up and down the veranda.</p> + +<p>The conference between Grace and her husband +was short. Each realized the distress which +tore at the other's heart, as well as the dangers +he would in all probability be called upon to face; +yet they met the situation calmly. "You will not +be gone long," she told him. "I can manage very +well."</p> + +<p>"I know you can, dear," he said, pressing her +to him. "I'm not worried about the place. You +can run that as well as I can. It's you, I'm +worried about—leaving you"—</p> + +<p>"I'll be all right," she assured him, in spite of +her tears. "I have Aunt Lucy, and old Uncle Abe, +and Rose, and Jennie. I won't be so <i>very</i> lonely. +And you will be very careful—and—and come +back soon—won't you?"</p> + +<p>"Of course, dear. Very soon. Now I'd better +get a few things together."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span>Fifteen minutes later Grace Duvall stood on +the steps of the veranda, watching the flying automobile +as it rapidly became a little red blur in +the distant road. It was nearly dark. The frogs +in the patch of marsh in the meadow were piping +dismally. She shivered, and a great sense of +desolation came over her. She sank into a chair +and wept, while Don, inserting his long white +muzzle between her hands, strove to lick away +her tears.</p> + +<p>She heard Aunt Lucy, the old negro cook, singing +away at her work in the kitchen, accompanied +by Uncle Abe, who occupied a bench on the back +porch. Everything seemed strangely peaceful, +and lonely, too, now that Richard had gone. She +patted the eager head of the collie. "We'll have +to make the best of it, Don," she said, and rose +to enter the house.</p> + +<p>Suddenly far down the road she heard the +chugging of an automobile. They were not frequent +visitors, upon this country road. Could it +be Richard, she wondered, returning for something +he had forgotten?</p> + +<p>She stood, straining her eyes into the dusk, +waiting, while with one hand she restrained the +eager dog.</p> + +<p>Presently she saw that the machine was not a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> +red one. It was not Richard. She was about to +enter the house, when she realized that the rapidly +moving car had entered the grounds. She +turned on the lights in the hallway and stood, +waiting, the dog at her side bristling with anger.</p> + +<p>In a moment the automobile had stopped, and +almost before she realized it, a small, foreign-looking +man stood on the doorstep before her. +"Madame Duvall?" he inquired, quickly, in a +voice which showed plainly his nationality.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she replied.</p> + +<p>"Your husband! May I see him?"</p> + +<p>"He is not at home."</p> + +<p>The newcomer seemed greatly disturbed. +"Then I fear, Madame, that I shall be obliged +to wait until he returns."</p> + +<p>"He will not return. He has gone away for +sometime."</p> + +<p>"Ah! That is indeed a calamity!" The man's +face showed the keenest disappointment. "May I +ask where I can find him?"</p> + +<p>"It will be quite impossible." Grace had no +intention of telling her visitor where her husband +had gone. She knew too well the intricacies of +his profession, for that. "You cannot find him." +She made as though to close the door, and thereby +terminate the interview.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span>The newcomer realized her intention. Slowly +he raised his hand, in the palm of which showed +the seal of a ring, turned inward. It was of +silver, with curious figures worked into it in gold. +The man glanced from the ring to Grace, eying +her steadily. "I think, Madame," he said, with +a meaning smile, "that you can trust me."</p> + +<p>Grace recognized the ring at once. It was +similar to one she herself had worn, while engaged +in the memorable search for the ivory snuff +box for Monsieur Lefevre, Prefect of Police +of Paris. Dear old Lefevre—the friend of +Richard's, and of her own! This man who +stood before her must be a messenger from +him.</p> + +<p>"Come in, please," she said, quietly, and led +the way to the library.</p> + +<p>The man followed her, calling out a few words +to his chauffeur as he did so. No sooner had +they reached the great book-lined room, than he +drew from his pocket a sealed envelope.</p> + +<p>"Madame Duvall," he said, earnestly, "Monsieur +Lefevre has cabled to his representatives in +Washington a message. That message is contained +in this envelope. I have instructions to +deliver it to your husband immediately. In case +I could not find him, I am to hand it to you.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> +Permit, me, Madame." With a bow, he placed +the message in her hand.</p> + +<p>Grace took the envelope, broke the heavy seal +which it bore, and drawing out a slip of paper, +hastily read the contents. The message was from +Monsieur Lefevre. It said:</p> + +<div class="blockquote extraspacetop"><p>My dear Duvall:</p> + +<p>You promised, on the occasion of our last meeting, +to come to me should I ever need you. I +need you badly, my friend. Come at once, both +you, and your dear wife.</p> +<p class="right extraspacebot"><span class="smcap">Lefevre.</span></p></div> + +<p>Grace looked up at the man before her, the +letter crumpled in her hand. Here was a message +the urgency of which could not be denied. +She knew that, had Richard been at home, he +would have gone to Paris at once in response to +it; for it was to Monsieur Lefevre that they in +reality owed all their happiness. She recalled +vividly their wedding, with the lovable old +Frenchman, acting as her father for the occasion, +giving away the bride. She remembered the farewell +dinner at the Prefect's house, and the beautiful +gift he had given her on that occasion. Evidently +Monsieur Lefevre desired Richard's presence +very greatly, and her own as well. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> +thought suddenly came to her—why not go to +him?</p> + +<p>True, Richard had left her in charge of things +at home; but she knew that, for a reasonable +time, at least, they would go on smoothly enough +without her. Hendricks, the overseer, was a +capable and honest man, devoted to her and to +her husband.</p> + +<p>She could safely leave matters in his charge. +Then, too, the thought of surprising Richard on +the steamer sailing the next day appealed to her +sense of mischief. How astounded he would be, +to find her strolling along the deck! And how +delighted, too! She wondered that the thought +of accompanying him had not occurred to her +more strongly before. She turned to the man, +who stood watching her narrowly.</p> + +<p>"You know the contents of this message?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Madame," he bowed. "It came to us by +cable—in cipher."</p> + +<p>"There is a train for New York at midnight, +and a steamer tomorrow morning."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Madame."</p> + +<p>"Can you drive me to Washington in your +car?"</p> + +<p>"I shall be delighted, Madame." The fellow's +eyes sparkled with satisfaction.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span>"Very well. Mr. Duvall is in New York. I +will take the message to him. Wait here, please, +until I get some clothes together and give some +orders to my servants."</p> + +<p>In half an hour, the thing was done. Hendricks, +the overseer, had been given full instructions +regarding taking charge of the place, with +provision for his needs in the way of money, etc., +and by ten o'clock, at which time the New York +sleeper was open, Grace was at the station, purchasing +her ticket.</p> + +<p>The obliging Frenchman gave her every assistance, +and bade her <i>bon voyage</i> smilingly as he +helped her aboard the train. She retired at once, +and lay in her berth, reading a magazine, and +picturing to herself Richard's mingled astonishment +and joy at their meeting in the morning. +This time, she was determined that their honeymoon +should not be interrupted.</p> + +<p>After a time, she fell asleep, and dreamed that +she and Richard were sailing gaily toward Paris, +in a large red touring car.</p> + +<p>In the morning, she ate a hasty breakfast in +the railway station, and took a taxicab for the +steamship offices. By great good fortune, she +was able to secure a cabin. Then she hastily +visited a banking house where she was well<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> +known, provided herself with funds, and drove to +the dock.</p> + +<p>It wanted but half an hour till sailing time. +Grace hastened to her stateroom, and busied herself +in effacing the stains of her night of travel. +She was determined to meet Richard looking her +best.</p> + +<p>It was not until the big steamer was passing +through the Narrows that she came on deck, and +began looking about for her husband. In all that +crowd, she knew it would take time to find him. +After searching for an hour, she felt somewhat +surprised at not seeing him. After another hour +had passed, her surprise turned to alarm. A +hasty visit to the purser, and an examination of +the sailing list, showed her the astonishing truth. +Richard was not on board!</p> + +<hr class="r15" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<p class="cap extraspacetop">RICHARD DUVALL arrived in New York +at half past one o'clock Thursday morning. +Hodgman, Mr. Stapleton's secretary, +had wired ahead the news of their coming, +and the banker's limousine awaited them at the +railway station. Fifteen minutes later they were +ascending the steps of Mr. Stapleton's residence +on Fifth Avenue.</p> + +<p>Duvall had not been to the house before. His +previous interviews with the banker had taken +place at the latter's office, in Broad Street. He +had no time now, however, to observe the luxury +of his surroundings. Mr. Hodgman hurried him +at once to the library, and in a few moments Mr. +Stapleton had joined them.</p> + +<p>He greeted Duvall with a nervous handshake, +and thanked him for his prompt coming. He +was clearly laboring under an intense mental +strain.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Hodgman has explained my reasons for +sending for you, Mr. Duvall?" he inquired, sinking +into a great leather-covered chair.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span>"Yes." Duvall nodded.</p> + +<p>"Then you can appreciate my feelings." He +sat in silence for several moments, looking gloomily +at the floor.</p> + +<p>"Perfectly."</p> + +<p>"The devils! I wouldn't care if they were +to steal my property—money, securities, anything +like that. I can fight them—on that basis. +But my child! Don't you see why your coming +was of the utmost importance to me? I don't +dare move against these rascals openly. If I do, +they will threaten to retaliate by injuring my +boy, and I am powerless. Whatever I do, must +be done secretly. No one must know that you +are in my employ. No one must know your object +in going to Paris. You see that?"</p> + +<p>"Most certainly. These fellows cannot hold +you responsible for any moves the police authorities +of Paris may make; over them you of course +have no control. But if you make any efforts on +your own account, any independent efforts, to +recover your boy, they must by all means be +made in secret."</p> + +<p>"Exactly. You understand, then, what you are +to do?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. But first I must ask you, Mr. Stapleton, +to give me some account of the affair. Mr.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> +Hodgman has told me only that your son has +been kidnapped. No doubt you have learned by +this time how the thing was done."</p> + +<p>"What I have learned, Mr. Duvall, convinces +me of the importance of being on the ground at +once. The affair, as cabled to me by my wife, is +preposterous—absurd!" He again gazed at the +floor in gloomy preoccupation.</p> + +<p>"How so?" the detective inquired.</p> + +<p>"I will tell you. My boy, who, as you know, is +six years old, has been in the habit of driving, each +morning, accompanied by his nurse, from my house +in the Avenue Kleber, to the Bois de Boulogne. +On arriving in the Bois, it has been their habit +to leave the automobile in which they came, and +spend an hour or more walking and playing on +the grass. I have insisted on this, because the +boy needs exercise, and he cannot get it driving +about in a motor car."</p> + +<p>"During this hour what becomes of the car?" +asked Duvall.</p> + +<p>"Our orders have been, of course, for the +chauffeur to wait, within sight and call. I believe +he has done so."</p> + +<p>"Thank you. Go ahead."</p> + +<p>"On Wednesday the nurse took Jack—the +boy's name is Jack—to the Bois as usual. She<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> +played about with him on the grass for probably +an hour. Then she sat down to rest. Jack was +standing near her, playing with a rubber ball. +She says—and, gentlemen, my wife cables me that +she solemnly swears to the truth of her statements—that +she turned away for a moment to observe +passing vehicles in the road—turned back again +to the child—and found that he was gone."</p> + +<p>"Gone—but how?"</p> + +<p>"How? That's the question. Here is this +woman, sitting on the grass, with the child, a +hundred yards from the road, in the middle of a +large field of grass—a lawn. No one is within +sight. The nearest person, it appears from her +testimony, is the chauffeur, three hundred feet +away, in the road. The woman turns her head +for a moment, looks about—and the boy is gone. +That is the story she tells, and which my wife +has cabled to me. Do you wonder that I call it +preposterous?"</p> + +<p>"Hardly," remarked Duvall, with a grim smile. +"The boy could not have vanished into thin air. +The woman must be lying."</p> + +<p>"That, Mr. Duvall, is what I cannot understand. +I cannot believe that the woman is lying. +My wife cannot believe it. She has been in our +employ ever since the boy was born, and is devoted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> +to him. Mrs. Stapleton cables that she is +completely prostrated."</p> + +<p>"But, Mr. Stapleton, you can hardly believe +such a story! How could the child have been +stolen, if her story is true? It is, as you say, preposterous."</p> + +<p>"I do not say that the story is true, Mr. Duvall. +I say that I do not think that Mary is +lying. She is telling what she believes to be the +truth. She turned her head for a moment—the +boy was gone. That is what she says, and I believe +her. The question is—how is it possible?"</p> + +<p>"It isn't," Hodgman grunted.</p> + +<p>"Everything is possible, Hodgman," said the +banker, reprovingly. "The best proof of that, +in this case, is that it has happened. What means +were used, I cannot imagine; but the apparently +impossible <i>has</i> happened. The boy is gone!"</p> + +<p>"Is the nurse a young woman?" the detective +inquired.</p> + +<p>"About thirty, I should say."</p> + +<p>"An American?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Of Irish parentage. Her name is Lanahan—Mary +Lanahan."</p> + +<p>"A New Yorker?"</p> + +<p>"She comes from Paterson, New Jersey. Her +people live there."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span>"Are there any other details—any other points +of interest?"</p> + +<p>"None, so far as I know. What I have told +you, is what has been cabled to me by Mrs. Stapleton. +She is naturally in a more or less hysterical +condition. Nothing can be accomplished here. +I want you to leave by today's steamer. I myself, +I regret to say, cannot go until Saturday." He +passed his hand nervously across his forehead. +"Only matters of the most vital importance could +keep me here at such a time, Mr. Duvall; but, +unfortunately, such matters confront me now."</p> + +<p>"Have you any reason to believe, Mr. Stapleton," +Duvall inquired, "that the kidnapping is the +act of persons from this side of the water? Have +any such attempts been made in the past?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Stapleton remained silent for sometime, +buried in thought. Presently he spoke. "I am +a rich man, Mr. Duvall—a very rich man. Men +in my position are constantly in receipt of letters +of a threatening nature. I have received many +such letters, in the past."</p> + +<p>"Was the matter of the child mentioned in +any of them? Were threats made involving +him?"</p> + +<p>"There was one such letter."</p> + +<p>"When did you receive it?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span>"Last fall—perhaps six months ago."</p> + +<p>"Have you the letter now?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"May I see it?"</p> + +<p>The banker rose, went to a heavy rosewood +desk at one side of the room, drew open one of +its drawers, and removed a steel despatch box. +He opened it with a slender key and took out a +package of letters. From these, after some hesitation, +he selected one and silently handed it to +Duvall.</p> + +<p>The detective examined the letter carefully. +It was enclosed in a cheap white envelope, such +as are sold at all post offices, having the stamp +printed on it. The letter itself was roughly +printed in ink on a sheet of ruled paper evidently +torn from an ordinary five-cent pad. It said:</p> + +<p class="blockquote extraspacetop extraspacebot">"We demand fifty thousand dollars, to be +placed in thousand-dollar bills inside a cigar box +and expressed to John Smith, c/o Express Company, +Paterson, N. J., next Monday afternoon. +The man who will call for the package on Tuesday +will know nothing about the matter, and if +you arrest him, you will find out nothing. Keep +this to yourself and do as we say, if you value +the safety of your child."</p><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span></p> + +<p>There was no signature to the letter. Duvall +read it through with great care, then turned to +Mr. Stapleton.</p> + +<p>"You have observed, I suppose, that the place +to which the money was to be sent, Paterson, New +Jersey, is the home of your child's nurse, Mary +Lanahan."</p> + +<p>Mr. Stapleton started. "I confess," he said +"that, in the agitated state of mind into which this +affair has thrown me, I had completely overlooked +the coincidence. What do you infer from +it?"</p> + +<p>"Only this, Mr. Stapleton, that Mary Lanahan +may know more about this matter than she is +willing to let on. I must keep this letter for the +present."</p> + +<p>"Very well." The banker nodded. "It may +prove a valuable clue."</p> + +<p>"Possibly. And further, Mr. Stapleton, I shall +not sail by today's steamer."</p> + +<p>"But—why not?" Stapleton sat up in his chair +in surprise. "You will lose two days."</p> + +<p>"I do not think they will be lost. I must make +some investigations in Paterson, before I leave +here. Please give me, if you can, the address of +Mary Lanahan's parents."</p> + +<p>Mr. Stapleton frowned. "I am not sure that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> +I can do so, Mr. Duvall. My wife has charge +of these matters. But I recollect having heard +that her father, Patrick Lanahan, is a florist in +a small way, and no doubt you can readily locate +him. But I fear you will be losing valuable +time."</p> + +<p>Duvall rose. "I feel, as you do, Mr. Stapleton, +that I should be in Paris at the earliest possible +moment; but I think you will agree with me +that some investigations on this side before I go +are absolutely necessary, and may prove of inestimable +value afterwards."</p> + +<p>Mr. Stapleton was silent for several minutes. +Presently he raised his head. "Under the circumstances, +Mr. Duvall, I am forced to admit +the truth of what you say. Conduct your investigations +as quickly as possible, however; for we +must positively sail by Saturday's boat."</p> + +<p>"I shall be ready then." Duvall took up his +hat. "Now I think I had better get a few hours' +sleep, and in the morning I will make an early +start for Paterson." He bowed to the banker +and Mr. Hodgman. "Good night, gentlemen. I +shall see you both on Saturday morning. The +steamer sails shortly after noon, I believe. Suppose +I come here at ten o'clock, and let you know +what I have learned?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span>Mr. Stapleton rose. "If I receive any further +news of importance from Paris, Mr. Duvall, I +will advise you at your hotel. Where are you +stopping?"</p> + +<p>Duvall gave the name of a Times Square hotel +at which he usually stopped, and with a quick +"good night" left the house.</p> + +<p>It was shortly after nine o'clock the next morning +when he descended from the train at Paterson, +and going to a nearby drug store, consulted the +directory for the address of Patrick Lanahan. +He found it without difficulty, and, by means of +an electric car, was soon before the florist's door.</p> + +<p>The place was situated on the outskirts of the +town, and consisted of a small, rather mean-looking +cottage, from which spread out on each side, +like the two wings of an aëroplane, the long glass +greenhouses.</p> + +<p>A little gate opened to a short brick path, leading +to the front door of the house.</p> + +<p>Duvall went up the path and rang the door +bell. A wholesome-looking Irish woman, of perhaps +fifty, opened the door, and, in response to +his questions, told him that her husband, Patrick, +was out in the garden at the rear of the house, +busy with his plants.</p> + +<p>She directed the detective along a narrow areaway<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> +at the side of the house, and in a moment reappeared +at the back door.</p> + +<p>"Pat," she called. "Oh, Pat! Here's a gentleman +to see you."</p> + +<p>A short, heavy-set man, with gray hair and +mustache and a ruddy and weatherbeaten face, +arose from among a litter of flower pots and +bulbs.</p> + +<p>"What can I do for you, sir?" he asked, coming +forward and wiping his hands upon his overalls.</p> + +<p>The detective studied the man before him intently. +The honest and clear-looking eyes told +him nothing that was not favorable.</p> + +<p>"I came to ask you a few questions, Mr. Lanahan."</p> + +<p>"Questions, is it? About what?" The blue +eyes showed a sudden flare of suspicion.</p> + +<p>"About yourself, and your family."</p> + +<p>"Who may you be, then? Is it the tax man?"</p> + +<p>Duvall smiled. "Not the tax man," he said. +"I represent a firm of lawyers in Washington. My +name is Johnson."</p> + +<p>Lanahan, still suspicious, pointed to a couple +of kitchen chairs that stood on the brick-paved +yard beneath a trellis covered with hop vines. +"Sit down, sir. I'll have a smoke, if you don't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> +mind." He began to fill his short clay pipe. +"What would lawyers in Washington be wantin' +with me?"</p> + +<p>"That is what I wish to find out, Mr. Lanahan. +We—my firm—have been advised that a +certain Michael Lanahan, of Dublin, recently +died, leaving a large estate. We are trying to +find his heirs. Tell me something about yourself +and your family."</p> + +<p>The look of suspicion and reserve which the +old man had up to this time shown faded from +his face, and was replaced by a smile of incredulity. +"Money, is it?" he laughed. "Mary—that's +my wife—has been seein' bubbles in her tay for +the week past. What is it you would know?"</p> + +<p>"Are you from Dublin?"</p> + +<p>"Me father was. I was born right here in +Jersey, meself."</p> + +<p>"What was his name?"</p> + +<p>"Patrick, the same as me own. But he had a +brother, Mike."</p> + +<p>"Ah. It may be the same." Duvall pretended +a sudden interest. "His business?"</p> + +<p>"Mike's? Faith—I never heard he had any, +lest it was drinkin' all the good liquor he could +lay his hands on."</p> + +<p>Duvall pretended to make a series of entries<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> +in his notebook. "Now about yourself, Mr. +Lanahan. Have you any children? Of course, +should there be any money coming to you, they +would share in it."</p> + +<p>"Children, is it? I have two."</p> + +<p>"Boys?"</p> + +<p>"One is a boy—a man be now, I should say. +He's in the city—workin'. His name is Barney."</p> + +<p>"What does he do?"</p> + +<p>Lanahan looked up with a quick frown. "The +last I heard tell, he was tendin' bar, Mr. Johnson—over +at Callahan's saloon, on the Bowery. He's +wild—wild—like me uncle Mike, I should say."</p> + +<p>"And the other?"</p> + +<p>The old man's face took on a contented look. +"The other is me daughter Mary, bless her. She's +nurse in the family of old man Stapleton, the millionaire."</p> + +<p>Duvall closed his book. "I see," he remarked, +pleasantly. "She's not married, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Mary? Divil a bit! For a time, she was +sweet on a French chuffer that worked for Mr. +Stapleton; but the fellow's gone, now, and she's +clane forgot him. That was near a year ago."</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes. Do you happen to remember his +name?"</p> + +<p>"Alphonse, it was—Alphonse Valentin, or some<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> +such joke of a name. A comic valentine he was, +too, with his dinky little mustache and his cigarettes." +He laughed loudly. "Imagine my Mary, +married to a gink like that!"</p> + +<p>Duvall replaced his notebook in his pocket +and rose. "I'm mightily obliged to you, Mr. +Lanahan. We will advise you at once, if our investigations +show that you are related to the +Michael Lanahan whose fortune is in our hands. +I'm obliged to you for your courtesy."</p> + +<p>The florist nodded. "You're welcome, sir. I +guess them Lanahan's must be a different breed. +I never heard tell of any of my people makin' +any fortune. Good day, sir." He turned to his +work, chuckling.</p> + +<p>Duvall rode back to the station, and took the +first train for New York. It was clear that Mary +Lanahan's parents had nothing in common with +blackmailers and kidnappers. Their honesty was +as evident as the blueness of their eyes, or the +redness of their hair. But the information about +Alphonse Valentin, the chauffeur, and Barney, +Mr. Lanahan's son, seemed more promising.</p> + +<p>It was close to one o'clock when Duvall arrived +at Callahan's saloon, on the Bowery, near Canal +Street. Here a disappointment awaited him. +Barney Lanahan had thrown up his job and left<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> +two months before. Callahan had no idea where +he had gone. He had not been about the place +since. A negro porter volunteered the information +that he had seen the man entering the Broadway +saloon of an ex-prizefighter some weeks before; +but, beyond that, Duvall could learn nothing.</p> + +<p>After a hasty luncheon he went to his office +on Union Square, where his unexpected appearance +caused his assistants unlimited surprise. He +directed them to locate Barney Lanahan at the +earliest possible moment. He then called up Mr. +Stapleton's secretary, Mr. Hodgman, and inquired +about the chauffeur.</p> + +<p>Mr. Hodgman informed him that the banker +had employed Valentin in Paris some eighteen +months previous, and had brought him to this +country, where he had remained in his employ +for about six months. He had been discharged, +through some dishonesty in the matter of purchasing +supplies, and nothing further had been +seen or heard of him.</p> + +<p>Duvall, on receiving this information, proceeded +at once to the office of the French line, +and asked permission to inspect their passenger +lists for the past year. He concluded that if +Valentin had anything to do with the kidnapping +of Mr. Stapleton's boy, he was, in all probability,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> +in Paris, and, if so, would almost certainly have +crossed by this line. He was therefore not at all +surprised to find the name of Alphonse Valentin +among those sailing during the preceding March.</p> + +<p>There was little more that he could accomplish, +now, beyond writing a long letter to Grace, whom +he naturally supposed to be patiently awaiting his +return in the country. He had a short interview +with Mr. Hodgman in the evening, and was lucky +enough to secure a photograph of Alphonse Valentin, +the chauffeur, taken at the steering wheel +of his machine. The car had, it seemed, been +photographed, along with a party of guests, by +a friend of Mr. Stapleton's with a leaning toward +amateur photography. Duvall placed the photograph +among his belongings with a smile of satisfaction. +He felt that his delay had been by no +means unprofitable.</p> + +<p>One other step he took, before leaving. Accompanied +by Mr. Hodgman, he made a careful +inspection of the room which had been occupied +by the nurse, Mary Lanahan, at the Stapleton +house. The results were distressingly meager. +All the woman's belongings she had evidently +taken with her, on going abroad. There appeared +to be nothing which would afford the slightest +clue to her character or habits.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span>Mr. Hodgman turned to the door with an impatient +frown. "Nothing here," he growled, and +was about to leave the room.</p> + +<p>"Nothing much," said Duvall, glancing carelessly +at the wooden edge of the bureau. "This +woman, Mary Lanahan, is evidently an up-to-date +sort of person."</p> + +<p>Hodgman paused. "Why do you say that?" +he asked.</p> + +<p>"Smokes cigarettes, I see."</p> + +<p>"That so. How do you know?"</p> + +<p>Duvall smiled. "Too simple even to mention, +Mr. Hodgman. See those burns on the varnish?" +He pointed to a number of spots along the edge +of the dresser. "Always find them somewhere +about, where there's a cigarette smoker." He +gazed out of the window for a moment. "Rooms +tell a great deal about the personality of the people +who have occupied them. For instance, I've +never seen this Lanahan girl, but I know that she's +not over five feet four, that she has light hair, +that she reads in bed, that she writes with a stub +pen, and that she's a Roman Catholic. Furthermore, +she is left handed, inclined to be vain, +wears her hair in waves, or curls, in front, is +fond of the theater, and has a long narrow scar +on the palm of her left hand."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span>He chuckled quietly, as he saw Mr. Hodgman's +look of amazement. "All very simple—quite +elementary, in fact. I won't even bother to +tell you how I know—just little things here and +there about the room. Here's one of them," he +said, as he picked up a rusty pen point from the +desk. "That shows she uses a stub, of course; +but the way the point is worn also proves that +she's left handed. And here's another." He +pointed to the electric bulb which hung over the +head of the bed. "Nobody would use that light, +except to read by in bed. The others in the room +are more than sufficient for purposes of illumination. +Yet the lamp has been used continuously, as +its condition shows. See how blackened the glass +is—and notice also how the white enamel of the +back of the bed is worn off, just under the lamp. +That's from propping a pillow against it, night +after night." He turned toward the door. "Of +course, those things aren't of any value, probably, +in this case; but I can't help noticing them. Force +of habit, I suppose."</p> + +<p>When Duvall arrived at the Stapleton house +on Saturday morning, he found the banker somewhat +disturbed by a cablegram he had just received. +"Mary claims attempts made to poison +her. Will recover. Come at once," it read.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span>The detective appeared to be somewhat astonished, +on reading the cablegram. "Looks as +though somebody was afraid she might be going +to talk," he remarked. "The sooner we arrive +in Paris, now, the better."</p> + +<hr class="r15" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<p class="cap extraspacetop">GRACE DUVALL'S first inclination, on +finding herself en route for Europe, without +her husband, was to send him a wireless, +advising him of her movements. Then she +decided, for several reasons, not to do so. Chief +among these was the fear that such a startling +piece of news would be likely to cause him a +great deal of unnecessary anxiety. She knew that +she could never hope to explain matters, within +the limits of a marconigram. And then, too, it +was highly inadvisable, she knew, to mention in +a wireless message the real reason which had +caused her to leave home.</p> + +<p>So she decided to make the best of the matter, +realizing that within a few days, she would see +Richard in Paris, and explain everything to his +satisfaction.</p> + +<p>Immediately on reaching Paris, she drove to +the office of the Prefect of Police, and sent in her +card to Monsieur Lefevre. She thought it possible +that he would expect her, as his agent in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> +Washington would no doubt have communicated +with him. Nor was she mistaken.</p> + +<p>He rushed into the anteroom as soon as he +received her card, and embraced her with true +Gallic fervor, kissing her on both cheeks until +she blushed. Then he drew her into his private +office.</p> + +<p>"Where is your husband?" he asked, eagerly, +as soon as Grace was seated.</p> + +<p>"I—I do not know. Probably on his way to +Paris."</p> + +<p>"But—my dear child! Did he not then come +with you?"</p> + +<p>"No. He—he had other business."</p> + +<p>"Other business! But I understood that he had +temporarily retired." The Prefect seemed greatly +astonished.</p> + +<p>"So he had; but an old friend, Mr. Stapleton"—</p> + +<p>Lefevre did not allow her to finish. "Stapleton!" +he fairly shouted. "He is employed by +him? Mon Dieu!"</p> + +<p>"Why not?" asked Grace in surprise.</p> + +<p>"But—it was for that very case that I desired +his assistance. And by this Stapleton, who cables +that the whole police force of Paris are a lot of +jumping jacks! Sacré! It is insufferable!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span>"You wanted my husband for the same case?"</p> + +<p>"Assuredly! What else? The child of this +pig of a millionaire is stolen—what you call—kidnapped! +We have been unable to find the slightest +clue. I am in despair. My men assure me +that it is the work of an American gang. I conceive +the hope that Monsieur Duvall may know +these men—that he may be in possession of information +that will lead to their capture. This +rich American, he has spoken with contempt of +the Paris police. The efficiency of my office is +questioned. My honor is at stake. I send for +my friend Duvall, to assist me, and—sacré!—I +find him already working for this man who has +insulted me. It is monstrous!"</p> + +<p>Grace could scarcely repress a smile. How +excessively French the Prefect was, after all. +"My husband did not know, when he agreed to +take the case for Mr. Stapleton, that you wanted +him. He does not know it now. He has not yet +received your message."</p> + +<p>"Then he does not know that you are in +Paris?"</p> + +<p>"No. I thought he would be crossing on the +same boat. When I found that he wasn't, my +first thought was to send him a wireless. Then +I realized that I couldn't do so, without saying<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> +something about the business that had called me +to Paris—without, in fact, mentioning you. I +feared to do this—for there are so many people +nowadays tapping the wireless. I thought it better +to keep the matter a secret."</p> + +<p>"And you did quite right. I wanted your husband +to take up this case, quite independently, +and without it being known to anyone that he +was in my employ." He paused for a moment +in deep thought. "No doubt his employment by +Mr. Stapleton is to be kept equally secret."</p> + +<p>"I suppose so. He asked me not to say anything +about it. I had to tell you, to explain matters."</p> + +<p>"And he doesn't know that you are in Paris?" +The Prefect gave a sudden laugh. "<i>Ma foi!</i>—what +a joke!"</p> + +<p>"A joke?"</p> + +<p>"Assuredly! Don't you see? I am going to +ask <i>you</i> to take up this case, yourself. I must +use every means to recover the child of this Stapleton, +before others do so for him. My professional +pride will not permit me to be beaten. If +I can't have your husband, at least I shall have +you."</p> + +<p>"But—I shall be working in opposition to him."</p> + +<p>"Not in opposition. You will both have the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> +same object in view—the recovery of Mr. Stapleton's +boy. Whichever of you does so first, the +result will be the same—the boy will be restored +to his parents. But I want you, my child, to be +the one to do this."</p> + +<p>"But, Monsieur Lefevre, I could not hope to +accomplish anything—where trained men have +failed."</p> + +<p>"Who knows? I remember well the assistance +you gave us, in the matter of the ivory snuff box. +Without your help, we should never have recovered +it. I have faith in a woman's intuition. You +will find this child for me, and give your husband +the surprise of his life."</p> + +<p>"But," said Grace, smiling mischievously at the +prospect which opened before her, "suppose he +should see me?"</p> + +<p>"You must disguise yourself somewhat. Change +the color of your hair; it is easily done—here in +Paris." The Prefect laughed. "A slight alteration +in appearance only will be necessary. And +do not recognize your husband, should you meet +him face to face. That is most important."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"Because, should he become convinced that it +is really you, I fear he would insist upon your +dropping the case entirely, and that would not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> +suit my plans at all. Come, my child." The Prefect's +eyes twinkled with amusement. "Do this +thing for me. It will be a little joke, between us. +The honeymoon detectives, I called you, once. +What an amusing thing, that now you should be +working in competition with each other, on the +same case!" He began to laugh heartily.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Grace, her sense of mischief getting +the better of her, "now that I'm here, I suppose +I might as well keep busy. Richard won't +be here for two days, and I may find out something +in that time."</p> + +<p>"Excellent!" The Prefect clapped his hand +smartly upon his knee. "You have two days' +start. In two days, much may be accomplished. +Come, let us go over the case in detail."</p> + +<p>An hour later, Grace left the Prefect's office +in a taxicab, having arranged to have her baggage +sent to Monsieur Lefevre's house, where she was +to stay while in Paris. Her previous acquaintance +with Madame Lefevre made this an ideal arrangement. +She was to pose as a friend, in Paris +on a visit.</p> + +<p>She ordered the driver of the taxicab to take +her to Mr. Stapleton's house in the Avenue +Kleber.</p> + +<p>She found Mrs. Stapleton to be a very pretty<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> +and stylish woman of thirty; whose beauty, however, +was sadly marred by the intense suffering +through which she was passing. The poor creature +had scarcely slept for over a week, and her +distress was pitiable.</p> + +<p>She answered Grace's questions as well as she +could, under the circumstances. There was, after +all, little to say. The nurse, it appeared, stuck to +her story—that the boy had vanished, in the +twinkling of an eye, while her back had been +turned for but a few moments. Mrs. Stapleton +could offer no explanation—attempted none.</p> + +<p>"It is all so mysterious—so terrible!" she cried. +"Poor Mary—she is too ill to see you, I fear, +or I would have her tell you the story herself."</p> + +<p>"Too ill?" inquired Grace, who had come more +to question the maid, than Mrs. Stapleton. +"What is the matter with her?"</p> + +<p>"They tried to poison her—last Friday."</p> + +<p>"They? Who?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know. She went out for a walk. +The poor woman was half dead, from nervous +exhaustion and loss of sleep. She tells me that +she stopped to get a cup of chocolate at a café +in the Rue St. Honoré. After that she came +back to the Champs Élysées, and sat upon a bench. +She began suddenly to feel deathly ill, and, calling<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> +a cab, was driven home. When she arrived +here, she was unconscious, and had to be carried +to her room by the servants. She has been +in bed ever since. I am glad to say, however, +that she is better, and I think she could see you, +by morning."</p> + +<p>Grace left the Stapleton house, feeling somewhat +baffled. The more she heard of this curious +affair, the more inexplicable it seemed. She had +hoped to visit the scene of the kidnapping, in +company with the nurse, and examine the spot +with her own eyes. This she now realized she +could not do until the following day. She was +walking in the direction of the Arc de Triomphe, +revolving the affair in her mind, when a young +man, evidently a Frenchman, of good appearance +and not unpleasant face, came up beside her, +bowed politely, and in excellent English asked her +regarding Mary Lanahan.</p> + +<p>"Miss Lanahan—is she better?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>"Who are you, monsieur?" asked Grace, suppressing +her inclination to resent the man's action, +in her hope that she might learn something from +him of value. His question showed Grace at +once that he was acquainted with at least one +member of the Stapleton household.</p> + +<p>"I am a friend of Miss Lanahan's," the man<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> +replied. "I hear that she is ill. I saw you enter +and leave the house, and I ventured to ask you +if she is better."</p> + +<p>"I was told that she is. I did not see her."</p> + +<p>A peculiar expression crossed the young man's +face; but Grace could not determine, so fleeting +was it, whether it indicated pleasure or disappointment.</p> + +<p>They walked along in silence for a few moments, +and had almost reached the arch, when +a ragged little urchin, a veritable Paris gamin, +came up to Grace's companion and thrust a crumpled +bit of paper into his hand, then darted off, +whistling shrilly.</p> + +<p>The man looked after him a moment, then +examined the note. Whatever its contents, they +made a startling impression upon him. He +looked about, an expression of fear upon his +face, turned to Grace with a hurried bow, and a +quick good evening, and at once walked off in the +opposite direction at full speed, at the same time +fumbling in the breast pocket of his coat, as +though searching for something in it. In his efforts, +he dropped several papers to the street. +Grace watched him as he picked them hurriedly +up and moved off into the gathering darkness.</p> + +<p>She fancied that one of the bits of paper had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> +escaped his notice, and, on going back to the spot, +found that she was correct. A small visiting card +lay upon the sidewalk. She picked it up, and read +the name as she walked away. It was Alphonse +Valentin, Boulevard St. Michel.</p> + +<p>Grace slipped the card into her pocketbook. +The man's name meant nothing to her—she +fancied that he was some friend of Miss Lanahan's, +concerned about her condition. Yet why +did he not inquire for her at the house, in the +ordinary way? And why should the note, handed +to him by the street urchin, have caused him such +evident alarm?</p> + +<p>She glanced at her watch, and saw that it was +close to seven o'clock. She had intended to return +to Monsieur Lefevre's for dinner; but a +sudden determination to find out more about this +man Valentin caused her to proceed at once to a +hotel near the Louvre, where she ate her dinner +alone.</p> + +<p>An hour later she descended from a cab at the +number on the Boulevard St. Michel, which was +inscribed upon Alphonse Valentin's card.</p> + +<p>The place was a dingy old building, the main +floor of which was occupied by a dealer in cheese. +A narrow doorway at one side gave access to the +upper floors. Grace rang the bell, and waited in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> +some trepidation. This going about Paris at +night was rather an unusual experience. She +thought of the simple joys of her life at home, +and for a moment regretted that she had not +stayed there. The opening of the door interrupted +her thoughts.</p> + +<p>The woman who stood in the hallway regarded +her without particular interest, and inquired her +business. "I wish to see Monsieur Valentin," said +Grace.</p> + +<p>"He is not in."</p> + +<p>"Then I will wait. I must see him. He expects +me."</p> + +<p>The woman shrugged her shoulders. "As you +wish, mademoiselle. Come this way." She led +Grace up a flight of stairs, and indicated a door +at the rear of the upper hall. "That is Monsieur +Valentin's room." Then she turned away, apparently +quite indifferent as to whether Grace entered +or not.</p> + +<p>The latter placed her hand on the knob of the +door, and slowly pushed it open. The room was +dark; but the light from the rear windows rendered +the objects within it faintly visible. Upon +the table stood a lamp. With some difficulty the +girl succeeded in finding a match, and lit it.</p> + +<p>The light of the lamp disclosed a rather large<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> +room, with a small alcove in the rear, containing +a bed. The alcove was curtained off from the +main room. Grace, however, did not spend much +time in examining her surroundings. A photograph +on the table at once attracted her attention—not +because it represented anyone she knew, +but because, across the bottom of it, was inscribed, +in a feminine hand, "Mary Lanahan."</p> + +<p>She had just completed her examination of the +photograph, when two other objects attracted her +attention. One was a crumpled bit of paper, +upon which a few words were scrawled in +lead-pencil. They were, "I am suspicious of +François. Watch him." The note was unsigned.</p> + +<p>The third object upon the table which caught +Grace's attention was a box of cigarettes, open, +and nearly full. They were small gold-tipped +affairs, of the kind generally used by women, and +it was this peculiarity that at first attracted her +attention. She thought it strange, that a man +should use such cigarettes. She looked at the +box, and observed that they were of American +make.</p> + +<div class="figcenter extraspacetop" > +<img src="images/illus02a.jpg" width="384" height="623" alt="Once inside he made without hesitation for the table, picked +up the box of cigarettes and thrust it into his pocket." title="" /></div> +<p class="center caption blockquote">Once inside he made without hesitation for the table, picked +up the box of cigarettes and thrust it into his pocket.</p> + +<p class="extraspacetop">Idly she took up one of the cigarettes, and held +it in her fingers. She read the name of the brand, +printed upon the paper wrapper, and was about +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span>to drop it back into the box, when she heard a +curious rasping noise outside one of the rear windows. +It sounded as though someone were climbing +the wall of the house. Instinctively she +shrank back and concealed herself behind one +of the curtains which hung before the alcove +door.</p> + +<p>The rasping and scraping continued for some +little time, and presently Grace, peering through +the space between the curtains, saw a face appear +at one of the windows. It was a determined face, +heavily bearded, dark, evil looking. Its gleaming +eyes swept the room with cautious care, then, evidently +satisfied that it was unoccupied, their +owner began noiselessly to raise the sash of the +window.</p> + +<p>It was slow work. Several minutes passed before +the man succeeded in raising the sash sufficiently +to permit him to crawl into the room. +Once inside, he made without hesitation for the +table, glanced over its contents, picked up the box +of cigarettes and thrust it into his pocket, and +then, without paying the least attention to anything +else, walked quickly to the door of the room +and passed out into the hall.</p> + +<p>The girl waited for a moment, then stepped +into the light. As she did so, she realized that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> +she held in her hand one of the gold-tipped cigarettes +she had taken from the box. She quickly +thrust it into her pocketbook, and, with sudden +decision, left the room and descended the stairs. +She had an instinctive feeling that the man who +had stolen the cigarettes was in some way connected +with the kidnapping of the Stapleton +child. She determined to follow him, leaving +the interview with Alphonse Valentin to another +time.</p> + +<p>She left the house, and saw the man going +down the Boulevard some fifty feet in advance of +her. She walked along after him, pretending to +be totally uninterested in her surroundings, while +at the same time keeping a sharp watch upon +him.</p> + +<p>He seemed in somewhat of a hurry, and walked +briskly along, looking neither to left nor to right. +Grace kept as close to him as she dared, without +running the risk of detection. The walk was a +long one. When half an hour had passed, the +girl saw that they were entering the Champs +Élysées. The Seine they had long since crossed +by the Pont Neuf. Up the brilliantly lighted avenue +they went, toward Arc de Triomphe. At the +corner of the Avenue Kleber, the man turned to +the left. Grace followed, wondering where the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> +chase would lead next. To her astonishment, the +man disappeared suddenly through a gate which +formed the servants' entrance of one of the stately +houses which fronted on the avenue. She looked +up. It was the house of Mr. Stapleton!</p> + +<hr class="r15" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<p class="cap extraspacetop">ON the day following that upon which she +arrived in Paris, Grace Duvall sallied +forth, determined to find out two things—first, +the position occupied by Alphonse Valentin +in the affair of the kidnapping; secondly, the identity +of the man who had stolen the box of cigarettes +from Valentin's room, and gone with them +to the house in the Avenue Kleber. The latter +incident seemed trivial enough, at first sight; yet +she reasoned that no one would risk arrest on the +score of burglary, to steal anything of such trifling +value, without an excellent reason.</p> + +<p>She had a short conference with Monsieur +Lefevre, before she left the house, and told him +of the events of the previous night. The Prefect +seemed greatly interested.</p> + +<p>"Could you identify the man who stole the +cigarettes?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Easily. I had a splendid view of his face."</p> + +<p>"Then go to Mr. Stapleton's house and take a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> +look at all the servants. You may find him +among them."</p> + +<p>"I had intended to do so, this morning."</p> + +<p>The Prefect smiled. "I do not know what +your investigations will lead to, but they seem +promising. I have a dozen men working on the +case; yet so far they have not made the least +progress. Their efforts, however, are directed +toward finding the child. They are searching the +city with the utmost care. We believe that by +discovering the missing boy, we shall also find the +persons who committed the crime."</p> + +<p>"Have you no one under suspicion?"</p> + +<p>"No one. The nurse, Mary Lanahan, is of +course being closely watched; also the chauffeur, +François. My men report, however, that he gave +them the slip for an hour, last night. I have an +idea that he may prove to be the one who took +the cigarettes."</p> + +<p>"Can you imagine any reason for his having +done so?"</p> + +<p>"I confess, my child, that I cannot. It seems +utterly absurd; unless, indeed, there was something +else concealed in the box."</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>The Prefect laughed. "I cannot imagine. But<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> +if you can identify the man, we shall no doubt find +out. As for the matter of Alphonse Valentin, +we have already had him under observation. So +far as we can learn, he is merely a chauffeur, out +of work, who seems to be somewhat in love with +the nurse."</p> + +<p>"Then his actions have not been suspicious, +during the past week?"</p> + +<p>"Not in the least. He has hung around the +Stapleton house for several days, asking for news +of the Lanahan woman; but that is all. We attribute +his actions to a natural anxiety over her +illness."</p> + +<p>Grace left the house, by no means satisfied with +the progress she was making. Her interview with +Mary Lanahan, and subsequent visit to the scene +of the crime, told her nothing she had not already +known. Her greatest disappointment, however, +came when she had Mrs. Stapleton bring in +François, ostensibly to question him about his part +in the affair. She saw at once that he was not +the man who had broken into Alphonse Valentin's +room on the night before. This man had been +heavily bearded and tall. François was smooth +shaved and rather short. Mrs. Stapleton assured +her that none of her servants resembled in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> +least her description of the burglar. She left the +house, greatly dissatisfied, after satisfying herself +that this was the case.</p> + +<p>Her visit to the house of Alphonse Valentin +that afternoon was productive of no greater results. +The man was out. The woman who +opened the door—the same one who had admitted +her the previous evening—regarded her +with ill-concealed suspicion, and informed her +that she had no idea when her lodger would return. +Grace left, determined to try again the +following day.</p> + +<p>Throughout the whole evening she hung about +the Stapleton house, hoping again to see the man +with the heavy beard who had disappeared within +the night before; but he did not put in an appearance. +Grace began to feel discouraged. +She thought of her lilac bushes, at home, of Aunt +Lucy feeding the chickens, of the dogs, the sweet +call of the wood robins among the poplar trees +on the lawn, and half wished that she had stayed +at home and left to Richard the apparently hopeless +task of finding the abductors of little Jack +Stapleton.</p> + +<p>What, after all, could she hope to do, where +the entire police force of Paris had failed? The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> +thing was absurd. Monsieur Lefevre had overrated +her abilities. She heard the sound of church +bells, striking the hour of ten, and decided to go +home and forget the whole affair until tomorrow. +Tomorrow—the day Richard must arrive! +How she longed to be with him! This stupid interruption +of their honeymoon seemed peculiarly +cruel, now that over a week had elapsed since +they had seen each other. She wondered if she +would meet him, the next day. Then she thought +of her changed appearance, of her hair, dyed a +jet black, and worn in a new and to her mind +unbecoming fashion, of her darkened complexion, +her extremely French costume, her heavy veil, +and laughed. If Richard did see her, here in +Paris, when he fully believed her to be peacefully +tending her flower beds at home, he would never +believe the evidence of his senses.</p> + +<p>She was strolling toward the Champs Élysées, +lost in thought, when suddenly she heard the soft +throbbing of a high-powered motor car, as it +came up the street behind her. She turned and +glanced toward it; but the brilliant glare of the +electric headlights blinded her. She could see +nothing, except that the car was moving very +slowly.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span>Suddenly it stopped, almost abreast of her, and +a tall man leaped to the sidewalk. Before she +had an opportunity so much as to glance in his +direction, he came swiftly up behind her, threw +his arm about her neck, and choked her into unconsciousness. +Her last sensation was of being +lifted bodily into the already moving car, and +then the feeling of rapid motion, quickly blotted +out by the coming of insensibility.</p> + +<p>When she returned to consciousness, it was +broad daylight. She lay upon a small wooden +bed, in a low-ceilinged little room, the only furniture +of which was a small chest of drawers and +a chair. Upon this chair sat a large man, his +face so thoroughly hidden by a mask that his +features were quite unrecognizable. He was regarding +her with keen scrutiny.</p> + +<p>"Oh—what—where am I?" she gasped.</p> + +<p>The man hesitated for a moment, then slowly +spoke. "Where you are, mademoiselle, is of no +importance. Attend to what I have to say."</p> + +<p>Grace made no reply. There seemed nothing +that she could say. She sat up and gazed at the +man, half dazed. Her head swam. She felt +that she had been drugged.</p> + +<p>"Ten days ago," the man went on, in a cold<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> +and menacing voice, "the child of Monsieur +Stapleton was taken from his nurse in the Bois +de Boulogne. You are trying to find that child."</p> + +<p>"But—" Grace made a movement of protest.</p> + +<p>"It is useless to deny it. You have been watched."</p> + +<p>Grace gasped in silence.</p> + +<p>"I desire to send a message to the boy's father, +and I have chosen you to take it to him. I have +selected you, because to send one of my own men +would doubtless result in his arrest. That is why +you have been brought here."</p> + +<p>"The—the child is safe?" asked Grace.</p> + +<p>"Perfectly. You shall see for yourself." He +motioned to the window.</p> + +<p>Grace rose, and looked out. The view +comprised a bit of garden, surrounded by +bushes. She could see nothing beyond—nothing +that would enable her in any way to identify +the place. On the tiny plat of grass in the +garden sat a child—a little girl, playing with +a small black and white spaniel. Her dark hair +was drawn tightly beneath a pink sunbonnet. Her +dress, her whole appearance, was that of a peasant +child.</p> + +<p>Grace turned from the window, bewildered. +"I see nothing," she said, "except a little girl—"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span>"That is the child of Monsieur Stapleton," the +man said. "Now attend to the message."</p> + +<p>She sat down again, wondering.</p> + +<p>"Tell the boy's father this: He will leave his +house tomorrow evening, in his automobile, at +eight o'clock. He will bring with him, in a +package, the sum of five hundred thousand francs—one +hundred thousand dollars. He will have +with him, in the automobile, no one but himself +and his chauffeur. He will leave Paris by the +Porte de Versailles, and drive along the road to +Versailles at a speed of twelve miles an hour. +Somewhere upon that road, among the many automobiles +that will pass him, will be one, from +which a blue light will flash, as it approaches him. +It will also slow up. He will toss the package +of bank notes into that car, and drive on. If the +package contains the sum of five hundred thousand +francs, he will find his child at his house, +upon his return. If not, or if these instructions +are not carried out to the letter—if there is any +attempt made at pursuit—the child will not be +there, and you can tell him that he will be given +but one more chance. After that, the boy will die."</p> + +<p>The man in the mask made this gruesome +statement with the utmost coolness.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span>Grace listened, aghast at the cruelty of his +words, and at the same time struck by the extreme +ingenuity of the plan. To catch the perpetrators +of the crime, under these circumstances, seemed +impossible. A rapidly moving automobile—one +of a hundred. An instant's flash of a blue light +in passing—the tossing into the car of the money—and +it would speed away into the darkness, beyond +any hope of detection. Should Mr. Stapleton +have others in his car—should he have his car +followed by a second, containing armed men, the +occupants of the kidnapper's machine would no +doubt refuse to give the signal, and nothing would +be accomplished. It would be impracticable to +line the road, for a possible distance of twenty +miles, with gendarmes, nor could their presence +accomplish anything, beyond putting the kidnappers +on guard, and preventing the carrying out +of the plan.</p> + +<p>The weakest point in the whole scheme seemed, +to Grace at least, the delivery of the child to Mr. +Stapleton, provided he paid the money demanded. +Just how that was to be accomplished, without +subjecting the person who brought the boy to +arrest, she did not see. A moment's reflection, +however, showed her that a stranger might be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> +employed, at any point, who for a few francs +would agree to take the child to the house. She +turned to the man before her with feelings not +devoid of admiration.</p> + +<p>"How can Mr. Stapleton know that you will +do as you say?"</p> + +<p>The man shrugged his shoulders. "That is a +chance he must take. If he does not believe that +the child will be delivered to him, provided he +pays the money, he had better not pay it. But +if he does his part, I shall do mine—and this I +swear by the memory of my mother!"</p> + +<p>Grace shuddered. A wretch of this sort, talking +about the memory of his mother! "Very +well," she said quietly, "I will take your message."</p> + +<p>"Good! You will not leave here, of course, +until it is dark—tonight. You will be blindfolded, +and conducted to some point in the city. From +there, you can make your way to Monsieur Stapleton's +house." He rose, and went toward the +door. "Make no attempt to escape. It will be +useless. Any attempts on the part of the police +to interfere with the plan I have outlined will +result in nothing. Food will be sent in to you at +once. Good morning."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span>It was close to ten o'clock that night, as nearly +as Grace could judge, when she was led a considerable +distance blindfolded, to a closed automobile, +and driven away. She could form no idea +of her whereabouts. The car continued on its +way, for over an hour. Once she attempted to +snatch the bandage from her eyes; but a hand +was placed upon her arm by another occupant of +the machine, and a low voice warned her to +desist.</p> + +<p>After an interminable ride, the car suddenly +stopped, and she felt the man at her side slip +away from her and open the door. Instantly she +snatched the bandage from her eyes. The man +had disappeared. She stepped to the sidewalk, +and looked about. She was standing upon a +brightly lighted street, which seemed somehow +familiar to her. The man on the box of the +cab glanced down at her with a look of curious +interest. She saw his face clearly, in the light of +the street. It was the heavily bearded man whom +she had seen take the box of cigarettes from the +room of Alphonse Valentin two nights before.</p> + +<p>Grace stood with the bandage which had encircled +her eyes, still in one hand. Suddenly she +saw a dark figure uncoil itself from the rear of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> +the car, and drop noiselessly to the pavement as +the machine started off. She gave a low cry of +surprise. The man came up to her, a grim smile +upon his face. It was Alphonse Valentin.</p> + +<hr class="r15" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<p class="cap extraspacetop">JOHN STAPLETON, the millionaire banker, +accompanied by Richard Duvall, arrived in +Paris early in the afternoon, and went at +once to the former's house in the Avenue Kleber.</p> + +<p>Upon their arrival, Duvall waited for sometime, +while the distressed husband and wife were +closeted together upstairs. At last they descended +to the library, and Duvall was presented to Mrs. +Stapleton.</p> + +<p>The joy which her husband's arrival had caused +her sent a new glow of hope to her careworn +cheeks, and she greeted the detective most cordially. +Clearly she felt that now something would +at last be done, to find her missing child.</p> + +<p>Duvall's first questions related to Mary Lanahan, +the nurse. He was relieved to find that she +had quite recovered from her sudden illness.</p> + +<p>"Will you kindly have her brought here, Mrs. +Stapleton?" he asked. "I would like to question +her."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span>In a few moments the nurse appeared. She +was an extremely good-looking girl, smart and +well dressed. Duvall recognized in her frank +face, her clear blue eyes, the same appearance of +honesty which had impressed him during his interview +with Patrick Lanahan, her father.</p> + +<p>"Mary," said Mrs. Stapleton, "this is Mr. +Duvall. He is trying to find Jack for us. Tell +him your story."</p> + +<p>The girl turned to Duvall, who had risen. "I +can hardly expect you to believe what I am going +to say, Mr. Duvall, yet I assure you that it is +the solemn truth."</p> + +<p>"Go ahead, Miss Lanahan," said the detective. +"I am prepared to believe whatever you may +say."</p> + +<p>The girl sat down, at Mrs. Stapleton's request. +She still was somewhat weak, from her recent illness.</p> + +<p>"It was a week ago last Wednesday. I left +the house with Master Jack at half-past ten, and +we drove to the Bois."</p> + +<p>"Just a moment, please." Duvall stopped her +with a quick gesture. "How long had you been +going to the Bois in this way?"</p> + +<p>"Over six weeks."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span>"And you always left about the same time—half-past +ten?"</p> + +<p>"Always."</p> + +<p>"Who accompanied you besides the child?"</p> + +<p>"François—the chauffeur."</p> + +<p>"Always?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>Duvall turned to Mrs. Stapleton. "How +long has this man François been in your employ?"</p> + +<p>"A year—in June."</p> + +<p>"You have found him honest, reliable?"</p> + +<p>"Always. Otherwise I should not have kept +him."</p> + +<p>The detective turned to Mary Lanahan. "Go +ahead, please," he said.</p> + +<p>"We reached the Bois shortly before eleven—François +had orders to go slowly, when Master +Jack was in the machine—and drove about for +fifteen minutes. Then we stopped at the place +where we were in the habit of playing."</p> + +<p>"Was it always the same place?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. There is a smooth field of grass there, +and a clump of trees by the road, where the machine +always waited."</p> + +<p>"Go on."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span>"We left the car, and walked out over the +grass. Master Jack had a big rubber ball, and +he was kicking it along, and running after it. +Sometimes he would kick it to me, and I would +throw it back to him. We played about in that +way for over half an hour. Mrs. Stapleton +wished the boy to have the exercise."</p> + +<p>"I see. And you generally played about in +the same place?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"How far from the road?"</p> + +<p>"About three hundred feet."</p> + +<p>"And from the nearest bushes, or woods?"</p> + +<p>"A little more than that, I should say."</p> + +<p>"You could see François, in the machine, from +where you were?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I could see the machine. I could not +always see François; for sometimes he would get +out, and walk about, or sit under the trees and +smoke a cigarette."</p> + +<p>"Do you remember noticing him, on this particular +morning?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I saw him sitting in the machine."</p> + +<p>"What was he doing?"</p> + +<p>"Reading a newspaper."</p> + +<p>"Had he ever done that before?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span>The girl hesitated, as though a new idea had +come to her. "No—I cannot remember that he +ever had."</p> + +<p>"Very well. Go ahead with your story."</p> + +<p>"Well—after we had played for about half +an hour—I got tired and sat down on the grass. +Master Jack still kept playing about with the ball. +I sat idly, looking at the sky, the road—dreaming—"</p> + +<p>"About what?" interrupted the detective, suddenly.</p> + +<p>The girl colored. "About—about some people +I know."</p> + +<p>"Go ahead."</p> + +<p>"I heard the boy playing, behind me. Then +I looked around—and—he was gone!" The +nurse made this statement in a voice so full of +awe that it carried conviction to her hearers. +Duvall felt that, whatever the real facts of the +disappearance of the child, this woman's story +was true.</p> + +<p>"What did you do then?"</p> + +<p>"I stood up and looked about. I thought Master +Jack was hiding from me—playing a joke on +me. Then I realized that there was no place that +he could hide. The nearest trees were too far<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> +off. He could not have reached them. I called +and called. I was very much frightened."</p> + +<p>"François, who heard me, came running over +the grass. I asked him if he had seen Master +Jack. He said, no, that he had not seen anyone. +After that we searched everywhere—in the +woods, along the road—for nearly an hour, but +could find nothing. Then we came home, and +told Mrs. Stapleton." The girl looked at her +employers in fright.</p> + +<p>"What about the rubber ball?" Duvall asked, +suddenly.</p> + +<p>"It—it was gone."</p> + +<p>"Then it is clear that the child must have been +taken away peaceably, without objection on his +part. Had he struggled, cried, he would have +dropped the ball, would he not?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose so."</p> + +<p>"How long was your head turned from him—while +you were—dreaming?"</p> + +<p>"About a minute."</p> + +<p>"Not more?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"How do you estimate the time so closely?"</p> + +<p>"I'm sure it could not have been longer. A +minute is quite a long time."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span>"What time was it when you got back to the +house?"</p> + +<p>"About—about one o'clock, I think." The girl +turned to Mrs. Stapleton for confirmation of her +answer.</p> + +<p>"It was a quarter-past one," said Mrs. Stapleton, +promptly. "I noted the time particularly, because +it was later than usual. Mary had orders +to bring Jack back for luncheon not later than +one."</p> + +<p>Duvall began to make some figures on a piece +of paper. "You fix the time of the boy's disappearance +at 11.30. You say you hunted for him +an hour. That would be 12.30." He looked at +the girl searchingly. "You arrived home at 1.15. +That would mean that it took 45 minutes to +get here." He turned to Stapleton. "Please +send for your chauffeur, François."</p> + +<p>Mr. Stapleton rang a bell, and ordered the +servant who responded to send in the chauffeur. +Meanwhile Mary Lanahan was regarding Duvall +with nervous apprehension.</p> + +<p>"We must have hunted for him longer than I +thought," she said, at length.</p> + +<p>Duvall made no reply, but waited until the arrival +of the chauffeur. He proved to be a short,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> +heavily built man, with long powerful arms, and +a swarthy face—evidently from the south of +France. His countenance was stolid and emotionless. +He appeared the well trained servant.</p> + +<p>Duvall addressed him at once. "How long +would it take you, my man, driving fast, to reach +this house from the spot in the Bois where Master +Jack was lost?"</p> + +<p>The man responded at once. "Ten minutes," +he said, "easily."</p> + +<p>"What time was it when this woman," the +detective indicated the nurse, "called to you, on +discovering that the child was gone?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know."</p> + +<p>"Have you no idea?"</p> + +<p>"It must have been about twelve o'clock. We +hunted for the boy till about one—then came +home."</p> + +<p>"The nurse says it was half-past eleven."</p> + +<p>The man shrugged his shoulders. "It may +have been. I did not observe the time."</p> + +<p>"What were you doing?"</p> + +<p>"I was asleep."</p> + +<p>Mr. Stapleton started. "Asleep?" he demanded, +angrily.</p> + +<p>The man nodded. "The day was warm. I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> +had nothing to do. For a time I read the paper. +I must have dozed in my seat; for, the next thing +I knew, the nurse was calling to me, and the boy +was gone."</p> + +<p>Duvall frowned. "Then you could not say +whether anyone else was near the nurse and the +boy, at the time he was kidnapped?"</p> + +<p>"No, monsieur. I could not."</p> + +<p>"That will do." The detective turned to Mr. +Stapleton. "Have your man drive us to the +place where all this occurred."</p> + +<p>The banker gave the man the order, and he +left the room. Then Duvall turned again to +Mary Lanahan.</p> + +<p>"You were taken suddenly ill one day last week. +Tell us about it."</p> + +<p>The woman looked up. "It was very mysterious, +sir. I went out for a walk. At a café in +the Rue St. Honoré I had a cup of chocolate."</p> + +<p>"Alone?" asked the detective, sharply.</p> + +<p>The woman colored. "No," she faltered. "I—I +was with a friend."</p> + +<p>"Who?"</p> + +<p>"A—a gentleman I know." She glanced fearfully +at Mr. Stapleton. "I—I would rather not +give his name."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span>"Was it Alphonse Valentin?" asked Duvall, +quickly.</p> + +<p>The woman colored still more deeply. "Yes," +she replied, in scarcely audible tones.</p> + +<p>The banker regarded her in surprise. "Alphonse +Valentin!" he cried. "The fellow I discharged +last year, for dishonesty? Mr. Duvall—he's +your man!"</p> + +<p>"No—no!" exclaimed the nurse, excitedly. +"He knows nothing of the matter—nothing!"</p> + +<p>"That remains to be seen," remarked Duvall, +slowly. "Where did you meet this fellow, Valentin?"</p> + +<p>"At the café in the Rue St. Honoré."</p> + +<p>"You had met him there frequently before?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"After you left the café, what did you +do?"</p> + +<p>"We walked to the Champs Élysées and sat +on a bench, talking. Suddenly I felt very ill. Mr. +Valentin called a cab and sent me home."</p> + +<p>"Give me the address of this café, please."</p> + +<p>The woman did so. As Duvall was entering +it in his notebook, a servant announced that the +automobile was at the door.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span>In fifteen minutes the party, consisting of Mr. +Stapleton, Duvall, and Mary Lanahan, were leaving +the car at the spot in the Bois de Boulogne +which had been the scene of the kidnapping. +François was ordered to drive his machine to the +exact spot, as nearly as he could tell, that it had +occupied on the previous occasion. Mary Lanahan +led the others to the place on the grass where +she had sat.</p> + +<p>It was evident at once that the distances she +had named in telling her story were less, if anything, +than the actual facts. It was quite impossible +to see how, in any way, the child could +have been taken from the spot she indicated, to +the woods, without consuming a considerable +period of time—five minutes, at least. To believe +that the nurse could have turned away her +head for a moment, and then looked around to +find the boy gone seemed the sheerest fabric of +the imagination; yet the woman, in repeating her +story, stuck to it with a grim pertinacity which, +it seemed, could come only from the knowledge +that she was telling the truth.</p> + +<p>Ten days had elapsed since the boy had been +kidnapped. It seemed almost useless to search +the spot for any evidences of the crime. Yet<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> +Duvall began to go over the ground where the +nurse testified that she had sat, with the most +minute care. Inch by inch, he examined the turf, +subjecting almost every blade of grass to a separate +examination. The operation required over +half an hour, and both Mr. Stapleton and the +nurse grew tired of watching him, and strolled +about aimlessly.</p> + +<p>Hence they did not see him pick up a tiny object +from the grass. It was a half-smoked cigarette, +dirty and almost falling to pieces from the +action of the weather, yet held together by a +slender tip of gold.</p> + +<p>He placed it carefully within his pocketbook, +and rose. "Nothing more to be done here," he +called to Mr. Stapleton, and in a moment the +three were proceeding toward the waiting automobile.</p> + +<p>Upon the return to the house, Mr. Stapleton +drew the detective into his library. "Have you +discovered anything, Mr. Duvall?" he inquired, +making an effort to conceal his almost frantic +anxiety.</p> + +<p>"I do not know—yet. I may have a clue; but +I am not sure."</p> + +<p>"What do you think of the woman's story?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span>"It seems impossible to believe it."</p> + +<p>"You think, then, that she had a hand in the +matter—she and this fellow Valentin?"</p> + +<p>"It begins to look like it."</p> + +<p>"On what do you base your conclusions, Mr. +Duvall? I cannot bring myself to believe that +Mary Lanahan is lying, ready as I am to suspect +this fellow Valentin."</p> + +<p>"First, Mr. Stapleton, on the facts themselves. +The boy could not have been taken away without +her knowledge. Secondly, upon some minor +matters—her error of half an hour, in telling her +story, for instance."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry, Mr. Duvall, but I cannot believe +that you are right. I'd suspect Valentin, at once; +but if Mary Lanahan is not telling the truth, +then my experience of twenty years in judging +human nature has been wasted."</p> + +<p>"Yet you yourself heard her admit that she was +with Valentin only last Friday, the day she was +taken ill."</p> + +<p>"Yes. That is true." Mr. Stapleton passed +his hand uncertainly across his forehead. "It's +too much for me."</p> + +<p>"Let me have a word with the nurse, alone, +before I go," asked Duvall.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span>"Certainly," replied the banker. "I'll send her +in to you."</p> + +<p>When Mary Lanahan entered the room, the +detective went up to her and eyed her sternly. +"Was Alphonse Valentin with you at any time, +in the Bois, that day?"</p> + +<p>"No," replied the girl, steadily.</p> + +<p>"Does he smoke gold-tipped cigarettes?" asked +Duvall, suddenly.</p> + +<p>The effect of this question upon the nurse was +startling. She recoiled as though the detective +had struck her. "He—he does not smoke at all," +she gasped, her face gray with fear.</p> + +<p>"Don't lie to me!"</p> + +<p>"He does not smoke at all," repeated the girl, +almost mechanically, and stood confronting him +with a defiant air.</p> + +<p>"Very well. That is all." The detective +turned from the room and left the house.</p> + +<p>He did not, however, go very far. It was +rapidly becoming dark. He passed down the +street until he judged he was out of sight of the +house, then slowly retraced his steps upon the +other side, until he had reached a point nearly +opposite the small iron gateway which served as +the servants' entrance to Mr. Stapleton's house.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> +Here, hidden behind a tree, he watched for perhaps +half an hour.</p> + +<p>At the expiration of this period, he was rewarded +by seeing a young man, evidently an +under servant, emerge from the gateway. Duvall +watched him as he proceeded down the +street, then began to follow him.</p> + +<p>The young man seemed in no great hurry, and +at the junction of the avenue with the Champs +Élysées, Duvall accosted him, speaking in +French.</p> + +<p>"Do you want to earn twenty francs, my +friend?" he asked pleasantly.</p> + +<p>The boy regarded him with a quizzical smile. +"Who does not, Monsieur?" he replied.</p> + +<p>"Let me see the note you have in your hand."</p> + +<p>The boy drew back suddenly, and made as +though to thrust the letter into his pocket. "It +is impossible, Monsieur," he began.</p> + +<p>Duvall took out a gold twenty-franc piece. "I +intend to have the letter, my man. If you will +give it to me peaceably, here are the twenty francs; +if not, I shall be obliged to take it from you by +force."</p> + +<p>The boy regarded the detective for a moment, +as though contemplating flight. Duvall seized<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> +him by the collar. "Give me the note," he cried, +"or I'll call a gendarme and have you placed +under arrest!"</p> + +<p>The boy allowed the letter to drop to the pavement, +seized the twenty-franc piece, and took to +his heels.</p> + +<p>Duvall picked it up. As he had expected, it +was addressed to Alphonse Valentin, —— Boulevard +St. Michel. He had waited, on the chance +that Mary Lanahan would lose no time in warning +her probable confederate.</p> + +<p>The letter gave him the man's address. That +was so much accomplished, at least. Then he tore +it open, and read the contents. They proved more +mystifying than anything that he had yet encountered +in this mysterious affair.</p> + +<p>"Destroy the cigarettes!" These three words +comprised the entire contents of the note.</p> + +<hr class="r15" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<p class="cap extraspacetop">ALPHONSE VALENTIN came up to +Grace and took her roughly by the arm. +"Come with me," he said, and started +up the street.</p> + +<p>At first she felt inclined to resist him. A signal +to a passing gendarme, and she could have +had the man placed under arrest. Monsieur Lefevre +had taken care to provide her with credentials +that would insure her obtaining instant assistance +from any member of the police.</p> + +<p>Then another thought came to her. This man +Valentin she very much desired to see. His position, +clinging to the rear of the automobile, +indicated that he was in all probability not a +confederate of the kidnappers. Just what he +was, she could not imagine. She determined to +go along with him, and hear what he had to +say.</p> + +<p>A few minutes' walk brought them to the man's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> +lodgings. For some reason, which she did not +understand, the automobile in which she had been +a prisoner had stopped on the Boulevard St. +Michel within a short distance of Valentin's +rooms.</p> + +<p>When they reached the house, Valentin, instead +of opening the door with a key, rang the +bell. The woman who had previously admitted +Grace came to the door. Valentin nodded.</p> + +<p>"Is this the woman?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the landlady, recognizing her at +once. "This is the one."</p> + +<p>"Good!" Valentin closed the door and led +the way to his room. Grace followed, wondering +what the man intended to do.</p> + +<p>"Why have you come here twice during the +past two days?" he asked, abruptly, after he had +lit the lamp and carefully shut the door.</p> + +<p>Grace determined to be quite frank with him. +"I wanted to ask you some questions, Monsieur +Valentin," she replied.</p> + +<p>"Ha! You know my name?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly."</p> + +<p>He appeared somewhat uneasy. "What are +you up to?"</p> + +<p>"I am trying to find Mr. Stapleton's child."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span>A queer smile came over the fellow's face. "Is +that why you stole the cigarettes?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I did not steal them. They were taken by a +man with a black beard, who came in through +the window when I was here."</p> + +<p>"A black beard?" He smiled incredulously. +"And you let him take them."</p> + +<p>"Yes. Why not? Were they of such great +value?"</p> + +<p>He glanced about uneasily, but did not reply +to her question. "Who was the man?" he presently +asked.</p> + +<p>"I do not know. I followed him. He entered +Mr. Stapleton's house."</p> + +<p>"Sacré! It must have been François!"</p> + +<p>"Hardly. François has no beard."</p> + +<p>"But he might have been disguised." He +seemed very much perturbed. "What a pity I +was so careless!"</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Valentin, will you please tell me +what those cigarettes have to do with the kidnapping +of Mr. Stapleton's child?"</p> + +<p>He looked at her closely for a moment. +"Everything," he answered gloomily, "and—nothing. +I was a fool to have left them +here."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span>Grace began to feel more and more composed. +This man did not talk like one of the band of +criminals. "Do you know where the child is?" +she suddenly asked.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps." He observed her narrowly. "Do +you?"</p> + +<p>"No. If I did, I should restore him to his +poor mother."</p> + +<p>"What were you doing in that automobile?"</p> + +<p>"I was a prisoner. And you?"</p> + +<p>Again he evaded her question. "It is my own +affair," he growled.</p> + +<p>"Did you not see who it was that drove the +car?" she asked.</p> + +<p>Instead of replying, he flung himself into a +chair. "Sit down, Mademoiselle, and tell me the +whole story. If I find that you are frank with +me, I promise to be equally so with you."</p> + +<p>Suddenly Grace felt an intuition that the man +was honest. She determined to do as he asked. +"Very well. I will tell you the truth. I am trying +to recover Mr. Stapleton's child. Last night +I was watching the house. I was seized from +behind, thrown into an automobile, and taken—I +do not know where. This morning a message +to Mr. Stapleton was given me. Tonight I was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> +brought here, blindfolded, in an automobile. +Then I met you. That is all I know."</p> + +<p>Valentin appeared disappointed. "Then you +do not know where the child is?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"The child is where I was—I saw it."</p> + +<p>As Grace said this, her companion leaped excitedly +from his chair. "Then we have them!" +he cried.</p> + +<p>"I do not understand."</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle, this evening I was watching +Monsieur Stapleton's house. Like yourself, I desire +to recover the child. I saw François leave in +Monsieur Stapleton's automobile. I climbed in +behind, as he left the house. It was dark. He +did not see me. He drove out toward Versailles."</p> + +<p>"Toward Versailles?" exclaimed Grace.</p> + +<p>"Yes. Why do you seem so surprised."</p> + +<p>"Never mind. Go on."</p> + +<p>"After a time, he stopped by the roadside. I +got out, and hid in the shadow of some trees. +Presently you were brought, blindfolded, by a +man, who entered the car with you. When it +again started, I climbed on behind. That is how +I came to meet you."</p> + +<p>"Then you don't know where the house is, from +which I was brought?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span>"No. There are many houses—all about. +There was no way of knowing, in the dark. Did +you come far—when they brought you to the automobile?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Several hundred yards, at least. But +you know the spot, on the roadside?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I can find it, without difficulty."</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Valentin, I have a plan—a very +dangerous plan—for recovering Mr. Stapleton's +boy. I cannot tell you what it is now. Tomorrow +I will tell you—tomorrow afternoon. I shall +want your assistance."</p> + +<p>"What am I to do?"</p> + +<p>"Can you drive an automobile?"</p> + +<p>The man smiled. "Decidedly. It is my profession."</p> + +<p>"Splendid! You will wait for me here, and I +will come, and tell you what you are to do. I +shall arrive not later than six o'clock." She rose. +"Now I must go; but before I do so, tell me one +thing. What is the mystery of the gold-tipped +cigarettes?"</p> + +<p>Her question seemed to drive from Valentin's +face all the good nature that had dwelt there the +moment before. "I cannot tell you that," he +growled. "You must not ask me. Let me advise<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> +you to drop the matter of the cigarettes, and +report your message to Mr. Stapleton at once."</p> + +<p>For a moment, Grace almost regretted her +frankness. Suppose, after all, he should prove +to be but a confederate of the kidnappers, in +league with Mary Lanahan, the nurse, to spirit +the boy away in the first place, and now sent by +them, in the guise of a spy clinging to the rear of +the automobile, to find out what step she proposed +to take to capture them? She paused in +indecision. Suddenly there was a tapping upon +the door of the room.</p> + +<p>Valentin went to the door and cautiously opened +it. The landlady stood on the landing outside. +"There is a man to see you, at the door below, +Monsieur," she said in a low tone.</p> + +<p>"Who is it?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know. He gives the name of Victor +Girard."</p> + +<p>"Very well. Send him up."</p> + +<p>Grace heard the name—Victor Girard. A +sudden wave of weakness swept over her. It was +Richard! He had used the name frequently, in +the past. She heard him ascending the short flight +of stairs. There was no escape. Yet Monsieur +Lefevre particularly insisted that he should not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span> +recognize her. She hastily drew down her veil. +"Get rid of him as soon as you can," she whispered +to Valentin, and shrunk back into the +shadow.</p> + +<p>Duvall came in, glancing sharply about him. +He had been waiting to see Valentin since early +in the evening, and had inquired for him twice +before, only to find that he was out.</p> + +<p>"What can I do for you, Monsieur?" inquired +Valentin.</p> + +<p>The detective drew the note from his pocket—the +note which Mary Lanahan had sent to Valentin, +and which Duvall had intercepted. "This +is for you, Monsieur?" he asked, then suddenly +paused, astounded. In the dim light, he caught +sight of Grace, standing on the opposite side of +the room, watching him closely. "I—I thought—Monsieur—I +thought you were alone," he +gasped, his eyes fixed on Grace as though he had +seen a ghost. "I—I beg your pardon, but—" +He was unable to proceed.</p> + +<p>Valentin looked at him in amazement. "What +is it, my friend?" he asked sharply. "Tell me +your business, if you please, and go. I have a +visitor."</p> + +<p>"Yes—Monsieur—so—so I see." Duvall<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> +pulled himself together with a mighty effort and +turned his glance to Valentin. He had suffered +a great shock. For a moment he would have +been ready to swear that Grace, his dear wife, +stood before him in the flesh—and yet the thing +was an absurdity: Grace, with her golden +brown hair, her clear complexion, was three +thousand miles away! This woman, dark, typically +French, was quite evidently an entirely different +person; yet the resemblance was startling—he +felt himself shaking in every fiber.</p> + +<p>"Well, Monsieur, give me the letter, since you +say it is for me," he heard Valentin saying.</p> + +<p>In an instant he had recovered his self possession. +"Here," he exclaimed, handing the note to +the man before him. "It is from Mary Lanahan. +I have read it."</p> + +<p>"You have read it, Monsieur!" Valentin exclaimed, +angrily. "By what right, then, do you +presume to read my letters?" He took the note +and hurriedly read its contents. "Sacré!" he exclaimed. +"What does this mean?"</p> + +<p>"It means, my friend, that I want that box of +gold-tipped cigarettes."</p> + +<p>Grace started. So Richard, too, was interested +in the recovery of these mysterious cigarettes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> +What on earth, she wondered, could it +mean?</p> + +<p>"In the first place, Monsieur, let me inform you +that I have no cigarettes, gold-tipped or otherwise. +In the second place, I question your right +to make any such demands."</p> + +<p>"Does not the note from Mary Lanahan request +you to destroy them?"</p> + +<p>Valentin turned pale. "I tell you I have no +such cigarettes!" he cried.</p> + +<p>"Are they not the sort, then, that you usually +smoke?"</p> + +<p>"I do not smoke at all, Monsieur."</p> + +<p>Duvall laughed. "So you both tell the same +story, it seems. My friend, I dislike to discuss +these matters before a stranger." He glanced +significantly at Grace.</p> + +<p>She dared not go. To speak—even to bid +Valentin good evening, would, she felt sure, betray +her. So she remained silent.</p> + +<p>"Then take yourself off. I certainly have no +desire to discuss them. I tell you, I do not smoke—I +have no cigarettes—that is enough!"</p> + +<p>"What does that note mean, then?" asked +Duvall sternly.</p> + +<p>"That is Miss Lanahan's affair—and mine."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span>Duvall drew out his pocketbook, and extracted +from it the bit of cigarette stump, with the gold +tip, which he had found that morning in the Bois +de Boulogne. "Monsieur Valentin," he said, "I +found this end of a cigarette at the exact place in +the grass, in the Bois de Boulogne, where Mr. +Stapleton's child and nurse were, when the boy +was stolen. The chauffeur was asleep. You could +readily have walked up, taken away the child, +and no one would have been the wiser. The +story of Mary Lanahan, that no one came near +her, that the boy disappeared into thin air, is +absurd. The presence of the half-smoked cigarette, +of a kind which I have reason to believe +you use, convinces me that you were there in the +Bois, with the nurse, at the time of the kidnapping—if +indeed you did not take an active part +in it. The message from Mary Lanahan, which +I have just handed you, directing you to destroy +the cigarettes,—which, no doubt, she feared, after +my questioning, might be used as evidence against +you,—serves as strong additional proof. I believe +that you know where Mr. Stapleton's child +is."</p> + +<p>The statements which her husband made convinced +Grace that she had made a mistake in confiding<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> +in Valentin. She herself had seen the gold-tipped +cigarettes on his table—had seen them +stolen. It was not very conclusive evidence, she +realized; but, taken with the nurse's letter, it was +significant.</p> + +<p>Valentin, however, did not appear to be greatly +alarmed by the detective's charges. "You are mistaken, +Monsieur," he said quietly. "I know nothing +about the affair."</p> + +<p>"Then what does this note mean?"</p> + +<p>"That I cannot tell you. And, if you have any +other questions to ask, I beg that you will come +again—at another time. I, as you see, am engaged +for the moment." He indicated Grace +with a glance.</p> + +<p>Duvall looked about, then turned to the door. +His object in coming had been fulfilled. He had +seen Valentin—located him—he hoped frightened +him. It was one of his theories that a man, +frightened by the knowledge that he is being +closely pursued, is far more likely to make a false +step, than one who fancies himself secure.</p> + +<p>He darted a curious glance at Grace, as he left +the room; but her face, concealed in the shadow, +told him nothing. Her silent presence filled him +with strange disquietude. He stationed himself<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> +outside the doorway of the house, determined +to learn, if possible, who she was, by following +her, when she left the place. He had not counted +on Valentin's being with her.</p> + +<p>The two left the house together, and the man +at once called a cab. Into this he put Grace, +all the while eying Duvall savagely. The latter +gave up all ideas of pursuing Grace, and returned, +somewhat disgruntled, to his hotel. He had +barely reached it, when a message was brought +to him, summoning him to Mr. Stapleton's house.</p> + +<p>Grace, meanwhile, had driven at once to the +banker's, and delivered to him the message with +which she had been intrusted by the man in the +black mask that morning.</p> + +<p>Mr. Stapleton's face grew more and more +angry as she proceeded with her story. He +jumped up, as soon as he learned the purport +of it, and, ringing up Duvall's hotel, requested the +detective to come to him at once. Then he turned +to Grace.</p> + +<p>"You have no idea where this place is located?"</p> + +<p>"Not the slightest."</p> + +<p>"You say you saw my boy? He was safe?"</p> + +<p>"I saw a child, which I was told was yours, +Mr. Stapleton. I did not recognize him, of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> +course. You know I have never seen your son. +Also, he was dressed as a girl."</p> + +<p>Mr. Stapleton produced a photograph with +nervous haste. "Was he like this?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"Yes. It was the same." There was sufficient +resemblance, even in the disguise the boy wore, +for Grace to be practically certain of his +identity.</p> + +<p>"How am I to know that these scoundrels will +keep their word?" Mr. Stapleton groaned, his +head on his hands.</p> + +<p>"Do you intend, then, to give them the +money?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly. Do you suppose I would take any +chances, for the matter of a hundred thousand +dollars—or twice as much, for that matter? +His mother and I are unable to sleep, to eat, +to do anything in fact, under the strain of this +thing. I shall by all means do as they ask."</p> + +<p>"But they will get away."</p> + +<p>"That is nothing to me. Let them. Once my +boy is safe, I can spend another hundred thousand +to catch them; but not now—when one false step +might mean his death."</p> + +<p>"They won't harm him, Mr. Stapleton. They<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> +are too anxious for the money, to let anything +happen to him."</p> + +<p>"I'll take no chances."</p> + +<p>Grace rose. "Then I might as well be going," +she said. "I don't see that I can do anything +more. I shall report the matter to the Prefect +of Police at once."</p> + +<p>"Very well. And be good enough to say to +him that I particularly desire that no steps be +taken to prevent the carrying out of the plan. +I shall pay this money and regain my boy. After +that, the police may do as they like. Good evening."</p> + +<p>"Good evening." Grace left the house, feeling +singularly disappointed, in spite of the fact that +Mr. Stapleton's decision apparently meant that +Richard's work in Paris, as well as her own, was +likely to be brought to a sudden termination.</p> + +<p>As she was leaving the house, she saw Richard +drive up in a cab. The sight of him filled her +with joy; although she was forced to conceal it, +and pass him by with a look of indifference. In +the darkness, she knew she was safe. He recognized +her of course,—recognized her, that is, as +the woman he had seen in Valentin's room,—and +her presence here at Mr. Stapleton's house<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> +evidently filled him with surprise. For a moment, +she thought he was about to speak to her, as he +descended from his cab; but she turned away +and hurried down the street, and when she looked +back, he had entered the house.</p> + +<hr class="r15" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<p class="cap extraspacetop">MR. STAPLETON was standing in the +middle of the library, when Duvall entered. +He turned to him excitedly.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Duvall," he said, "I have just heard news +that I hope will restore my boy to me within the +next twenty-four hours!"</p> + +<p>"From the woman who just left the house?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Who is she?"</p> + +<p>"An agent of the police."</p> + +<p>"Ah! Are you certain of that?"</p> + +<p>"I know only what she says."</p> + +<p>Duvall looked at him curiously. "What is the +news she has brought you?"</p> + +<p>"A message from the scoundrels who have +stolen the child. They want a hundred thousand +dollars, to return him."</p> + +<p>"And she brought you that message?"</p> + +<p>"Yes." The banker regarded his questioner +uneasily.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span>"Does it not seem rather singular, Mr. Stapleton, +that a member of the Paris police should +come to you with a message from the kidnappers?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Stapleton frowned. "I had not considered +that aspect of the case, Mr. Duvall. I was—and +am—too anxious to get my boy back, to care +by whom these fellows deliver their terms."</p> + +<p>"What was the message, Mr. Stapleton?"</p> + +<p>"I am to drive along the road to Versailles +tomorrow evening, leaving here at eight o'clock, +and moving at the rate of twelve miles an hour. +Somewhere on that road, an automobile in passing +will signal me with a blue light. I am then +to slow up and toss into the other machine a +package containing one hundred thousand dollars. +If I do this, and make no attempt to follow +or capture the rascals, they agree to deliver the +child here—at my house—by the time I return +home."</p> + +<p>Duvall listened to Mr. Stapleton's words with +growing interest. "They are a shrewd lot," he +exclaimed. "They will get away in their machine, +and have ample opportunity to examine the package +to see that it contains the amount they demand. +By signaling to confederates at any point<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> +along the road, or in another automobile, they +can advise them whether or not to return the +child."</p> + +<p>"But how will they be able to do this, without +running the risk of being caught?"</p> + +<p>"That is easy. They take the boy to Paris, +employ a passerby—a man of their own class, no +doubt—for a few francs, to deliver him at your +door. To trace them, through that means, will +be impossible. If you give them the money, the +chances are that they will never be caught."</p> + +<p>"Nevertheless, I shall give it to them."</p> + +<p>"I expected that, Mr. Stapleton. I can understand +your feelings. It is not right, of course, +to submit to this blackmail; but no doubt, were I +situated as you are, I would do the same thing. +Still, it is a great pity."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"Because we have an excellent chance to capture +these fellows."</p> + +<p>"And lose the boy!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, that might be true. Such men are apt +to retaliate very promptly, and very severely. +They have no pity. I wish I might handle the +case to suit myself."</p> + +<p>"What would you do?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span>"I would arrange to follow you, in a fast car, +keeping say five hundred feet in the rear. I +should have several men, well armed, in the +car. By watching carefully, with field glasses if +necessary, I would observe the car which signaled +you with the blue light. When this car +passed me, I would follow, but make no move +which would alarm the kidnappers until they had +given the signal—whatever it is—that would ensure +your boy being returned to you. Then I +would close in on them, and arrest them."</p> + +<p>"Your plan, Mr. Duvall, is open to serious +objections. Suppose these men, undoubtedly on +the watch, observe that they are being followed. +They will give no signal—and I will lose not only +my child, but the one hundred thousand dollars +as well. No, no, I want no interference in the +matter whatever."</p> + +<p>Duvall remained a moment in silence. "Very +well, Mr. Stapleton, I am under your orders, of +course. But I dislike very much to see these +fellows get away."</p> + +<p>"So do I; but there's no help for it."</p> + +<p>"If I can work out a plan for their capture, +which will not involve the loss of the boy, you +are willing, I take it, to let me go ahead?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span>"Yes; but I insist that you first submit the +plan to me."</p> + +<p>"Very well. And now, another matter. This +woman who brought the message to you is, you +say, an agent of the police. Did she attempt to +explain how she came by the message?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. She was forcibly abducted, last night, +carried a long distance out into the country, and +the instructions given her. She was brought back +to Paris, blindfolded, tonight."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Stapleton, what would you say were I to +tell you that less than an hour ago I saw this +woman in the rooms of Alphonse Valentin, a man +whom I suspect to be very deeply concerned in the +kidnapping of your son?"</p> + +<p>Stapleton started. "Is it possible?" he said. +"Have you any idea what she was doing +there?"</p> + +<p>"No. They seemed on excellent terms, however. +Of course, it is not impossible that an +agent of the police might pose as a friend of one +of the criminals, and thus obtain information. +But it looks decidedly queer."</p> + +<p>"It does, indeed. Still, as I said before, if I +get my boy back, I shall be satisfied." He took +a turn about the room, chewing nervously upon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> +his long black cigar. "Now, Mr. Duvall, what +is your plan to capture these fellows?"</p> + +<p>Duvall sat in deep thought for sometime. +"It is not an easy matter, Mr. Stapleton, but +there is one way which promises success, and that, +too, without interfering with your arrangements +to recover your boy."</p> + +<p>"What is it?"</p> + +<p>"This. It is necessary for us, in some way, +to identify the car which gives you the signal of +the blue light. It will pass close to you, at a +moderate speed. I want you to mark that car, +so that it may be recognized at once."</p> + +<p>"How can I do that?"</p> + +<p>"I will place in the bottom of your machine +a small device, consisting of a rubber bulb, +equipped with a small nozzle, projecting through +a hole in the body of the car. The bulb will be +filled with indelible red stain. When you stand +up, to toss the package of money to the kidnappers, +you must press this bulb with your foot. +The two cars will then be side by side. The +pressure on the bulb will discharge a blast of the +red stain against the body and wheels of the car +opposite you. It will then be a simple matter to +identify it."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span>"Yes—yes. I see that. But what then?"</p> + +<p>"The car, in passing you, will be headed for +Paris. Undoubtedly it is the intention of these +fellows to enter the city. I shall station myself +at the Porte de Versailles, and I will arrange to +have other men, members of the detective bureau, +stationed at the neighboring gates in the +fortifications. All cars entering the city will be +momentarily halted. The one which bears upon +its body or wheels the red stain will be seized, +its occupants arrested."</p> + +<p>"But suppose they have not yet notified their +confederates to return the boy to me?"</p> + +<p>"In that event, I feel certain that the child +will be found in the automobile with them. Look +at the thing as you would, were you in their +place. They are forced to act with great quickness. +Were they to signal, by lights or otherwise, +to persons along the road, they could hardly hope +to get the boy to your house before you yourself +return there. They know you will return home +immediately at your best speed as soon as you +have delivered the money to them. What more +likely, then, that they will have the boy with +them in the car, will drive to some prearranged +point in Paris, and deliver him to the person who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> +will bring him to your house? That would seem, +to my mind, their most probable plan."</p> + +<p>"And if not—if the child is not with them?"</p> + +<p>"Then there are but two courses open to them. +The first is to signal, by lights or otherwise, to +their confederates, before they enter Paris. If +they do this, the boy will be returned to you, +and we will capture the men as well. The only +other alternative, of course, is for them to notify +their confederates after they enter Paris."</p> + +<p>"But, if you arrest him at the barrier, they +cannot do that, and my boy will not be sent +back."</p> + +<p>"That is true; but I do not think they will +wait to notify their confederates until after they +enter Paris."</p> + +<p>"Why not, Mr. Duvall?"</p> + +<p>"First, because of the danger of being observed, +in the crowded streets of the city. Secondly, +because I do not think the child is in Paris +at all. The woman who brought you the message +from the kidnappers, I understand, saw the +child at a point some distance in the country. +It seems unlikely that these men would run the +risk of conveying the child into the city, in broad +daylight. By having the boy with them in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> +car, they avoid all danger of signaling anybody. +They merely inspect the package of money, run +into Paris, fully believing themselves for the time +being safe, drop the child at a convenient point, +divide the plunder, and scatter to their respective +hiding places. Criminals of this sort know perfectly +well that they are far safer, hiding in a +big city, than fleeing through the country in an +automobile. I feel scarcely any doubt that they +have the child with them."</p> + +<p>"But if he is still in the country, and they wait +until after they are in Paris before notifying +their confederates?"</p> + +<p>"Then the latter are obliged to journey a long +distance out into the country, get the child, and +bring him back to your house. That would require +a considerable period. They could not possibly +do it before you return home."</p> + +<p>Mr. Stapleton considered the matter for a long +time in silence. "Your arguments seem sound, +Mr. Duvall," he presently observed. "Like yourself, +I am anxious to capture these fellows. It +makes my blood boil, to think of their getting +away. Of course, your deductions may be +wrong."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span>"Then at least we will get the perpetrators of +the crime, and it is most likely that one of them, +at least, may be persuaded to turn state's evidence, +and disclose the whereabouts of your +son."</p> + +<p>Mr. Stapleton pondered the matter with great +care. Evidently he feared any course of action +which did not insure the return of the child.</p> + +<p>"It seems to me, Mr. Stapleton," the detective +went on, "that you owe it to the public to +let me make this effort to capture these fellows. +It is a grave danger to the community, to have +such rogues at large. Let me try my plan. Even +if it fails, you are no worse off than you are +now. The attempt cannot in any way be traced +to you."</p> + +<p>"Very well," said the banker, nervously. "It +is a chance—that's all. However, since it seems +to involve no breach of faith on my part, I am +willing to take it."</p> + +<p>"Good! I will bring the device I spoke of to +your house tomorrow, and attach it to your car. +Your man François will drive you, I presume."</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"You trust him?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span>"I have no reasons for not doing so. And besides +he will know nothing of the affair. His +part will be merely to drive the car, as I direct +him."</p> + +<p>Duvall thought for a moment. "You will not, +of course, give him his instructions until the last +moment—just before you start."</p> + +<p>"No. That will be best, I think."</p> + +<p>"Undoubtedly. And to avoid any possible interference, +I think I had better not attach the +identifying device of which I have spoken to your +car until late tomorrow afternoon, immediately +before you set out. Then, if by any chance your +chauffeur is in this plot, he will have no opportunity +to give a warning."</p> + +<p>"Very well. I think, however, that your precautions +are needless. There has been nothing +whatever brought out to connect François with +this matter."</p> + +<p>"I know; but it is well to be careful. You +will leave here tomorrow evening, at eight +o'clock?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Promptly at eight."</p> + +<p>"You might do well to have someone with +you, some member of the police, perhaps."</p> + +<p>"The instructions expressly forbid it."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span>"Ah—I see. These fellows are shrewd." He +took up his hat. "Until tomorrow then. Good +night."</p> + +<p>"Good night."</p> + +<hr class="r15" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<p class="cap extraspacetop">AT the same hour that Richard Duvall was +arranging with Mr. Stapleton his plan for +the capture of the kidnappers the following +day, Grace was closeted with Monsieur +Lefevre, the Prefect of Police, in the latter's +library, going over the affair in all its details. +The Prefect was speaking, ticking off on his fingers +the points in the case as he proceeded.</p> + +<p>"First, we have the impossible story of the +nurse, Mary Lanahan. She seems to be telling +the truth; yet I believe she is lying. In my opinion, +she is deeply concerned in the whole matter."</p> + +<p>"But what about the attempt to poison her?"</p> + +<p>"It is highly probable that she poisoned herself, +taking a slight dose only. This would divert +suspicion from her."</p> + +<p>"I see."</p> + +<p>"Then we have the case of Alphonse Valentin, +and the mysterious gold-tipped cigarettes. Your<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> +husband, Monsieur Duvall, I am informed, has +found one of these cigarettes, partly smoked, on +the grass at the scene of the crime. This might +indicate that Valentin was there, with her, on +some occasion, but not necessarily on the day the +kidnapping occurred. It might readily have been +the day before—or the week before, for that +matter."</p> + +<p>"I thought of that," remarked Grace, quietly. +"It seems to me that Richard attached too much +importance to the matter."</p> + +<p>"That remains to be seen. Now, supposing +Valentin to be concerned, with the nurse, in the +plot. He of course does not think, at the start, +that the possession of the cigarettes would involve +him in the affair, because he does not know +that Monsieur Duvall has found the one in the +grass. Your husband, however, asks Mary Lanahan +what kind of cigarettes Valentin smokes. She +at once becomes suspicious, and at the first opportunity +warns Valentin, by letter, to destroy them. +That shows clearly that they are working together."</p> + +<p>"Undoubtedly. But meanwhile the cigarettes +are stolen from Valentin's room by a man with +a dark beard, who subsequently enters Mr. Stapleton's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> +house. For that, I confess, I can find no +explanation."</p> + +<p>"Nor I. The destruction of the cigarettes +could be of no importance to anyone, except to +the kidnappers themselves. It is of course possible +that someone else in Mr. Stapleton's house—François, +for instance—is concerned in the +plot."</p> + +<p>"But the man who took the cigarettes had a +black beard, while François is smooth shaven."</p> + +<p>"I know. But it might have been a disguise."</p> + +<p>"I do not think so. The man I saw was taller +than François, and not so heavily built."</p> + +<p>The Prefect considered the matter for a moment. +"You are certain that he entered the +Stapleton's house?"</p> + +<p>"Absolutely certain. I saw the gate close behind +him."</p> + +<p>"Then I can only say that, so far, the matter +is inexplicable. Now let us come back to Valentin. +He claims to be working to capture the +kidnappers—in order to clear the nurse, whom +he loves."</p> + +<p>"That is as I understand it."</p> + +<p>"He denies that he smokes, yet offers no explanation<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> +of the presence of the cigarettes in his +room."</p> + +<p>"None. Further, someone sends a note to +Valentin, advising him that the writer is suspicious +of François—suggesting that he watch +him. Can this mean that François is in the plot, +and they fear he may be weakening—preparing +to turn against them?"</p> + +<p>"It certainly looks that way."</p> + +<p>"I wish I could see one of these famous cigarettes."</p> + +<p>Grace laughed suddenly. "Why," she exclaimed, +"I have one in my pocketbook. I had +quite forgotten it." She opened her purse and +took out the slender white cylinder.</p> + +<p>Lefevre examined the thing closely. "An +Egyptian cigarette of American make," he mused. +"Expensive, here in Paris, and rarely used, except +by Americans."</p> + +<p>"That is true; yet I understand that this man +Valentin has lived a great deal in America."</p> + +<p>For a moment the Prefect did not reply. Then +a puzzled look crossed his face. "This is a +woman's cigarette," he exclaimed. "No man +would smoke such a thing." He brought his +hand down sharply upon his knee. "My girl,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> +it is not impossible that the child was stolen not +by a man at all, but by a woman."</p> + +<p>"A woman, apparently, that both Valentin and +the nurse are trying to shield."</p> + +<p>The Prefect sat for a moment buried in +thought. Then he glanced at Grace keenly. "It +seems to me," he remarked, in a quiet tone, "that +we should endeavor to determine whether or not +Mrs. Stapleton is in the habit of using cigarettes."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Stapleton!" gasped Grace, in amazement.</p> + +<p>"Yes. I confess the idea is a new one, to me; +but it may prove of interest."</p> + +<p>"But why should the boy's mother wish to +kidnap him?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know. There is but one point of +significance. During the past week my men have, +naturally, questioned Mrs. Stapleton closely as +to her movements during the past two or three +months. They did this, to determine, if possible, +whether the criminals were of Paris, or from +some other place, where Mrs. Stapleton may have +been, with the child, during the past winter. You +know these fellows work in bands, and have their +regular field of operations."</p> + +<p>"I see. And where had she been?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span>"Monte Carlo!" The Prefect uttered the two +words significantly.</p> + +<p>Grace was quick to grasp his meaning.</p> + +<p>"Then you mean that possibly Mrs. Stapleton +may have lost large sums at the gambling tables, +and, fearing to tell her husband of her losses, +has enlisted the services of the nurse, and of her +friend Valentin, and spirited the child away for a +few weeks, in order to get the sum of one hundred +thousand dollars from her husband without +his knowledge?"</p> + +<p>"It is by no means impossible. I would recommend +that you investigate the matter thoroughly. +If we find that Mrs. Stapleton uses gold-tipped +cigarettes of this variety, it may go far toward +a solution of the whole affair."</p> + +<p>Grace, remembering Mrs. Stapleton's grief-stricken +appearance, felt that the clue was a very +slender one, but determined to follow it up, nevertheless.</p> + +<p>"Now," went on the Prefect, "we come to the +sudden and most unexpected appearance of Valentin, +clinging to the rear of the automobile that +brought you back to Paris tonight."</p> + +<p>"As I have told you, he claims to have clambered +into Mr. Stapleton's car."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span>"Driven by François?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"And you say the man who drove the car had +a black beard—the same man, in fact, who broke +into Valentin's room and stole the cigarettes?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Then either Valentin is lying, or the man with +the black beard is François. Let us look at his +story from both sides. If he is telling the truth, +then François is one of the kidnappers."</p> + +<p>"So it would seem. You are having him +watched, you say?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. My men report that he did leave the +house, in Mr. Stapleton's automobile tonight, at +about nine o'clock. That would seem to agree +with Valentin's story. They also report that he +returned about eleven, alone."</p> + +<p>"They did not follow him?"</p> + +<p>"No. It is impossible to do so, in another car, +without arousing his suspicion, and putting him +on his guard. We do not wish him to know that +he is being watched."</p> + +<p>"But Mr. Stapleton must know where he has +been—why the car was out."</p> + +<p>"Yes. We have questioned him. He says the +man reported that the gasolene tank was leaking,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> +and that he ordered him to have it repaired +at once."</p> + +<p>"And was it repaired?"</p> + +<p>The Prefect smiled. "Yes. The car was at +a garage in the Boulevard St. Michel from half +past nine until half past ten."</p> + +<p>Grace fell back, astonished. "Then Valentin +is lying!" she cried.</p> + +<p>"So it seems; unless, of course, François took +out another car from the garage, while his own +was being fixed."</p> + +<p>"They would know that at the garage."</p> + +<p>"They deny it. But these fellows all hang together. +They would think nothing of protecting +a brother chauffeur, in the matter of a little joy +ride."</p> + +<p>"Valentin says nothing about this, in his +story."</p> + +<p>"He may have omitted it, as an unimportant +detail. I mean that he may have slipped into the +second car, as he did into the first, without being +observed. It was dark of course. He may not +have thought it necessary to mention it. All this, +of course, is on the assumption that he is telling +the truth. Now let us say that he is lying—that +the man with the black beard is not François,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> +but someone else concerned, with Valentin in the +plot. What is the purpose of his tale?"</p> + +<p>"I cannot imagine. Can you, Monsieur?"</p> + +<p>"No, not immediately. The first contradiction, +of course, is this. If Valentin and the man +with the black beard are working together, why +should the latter have broken into his room to +get the cigarettes?"</p> + +<p>"There seems no sense to it."</p> + +<p>"Yet he may have realized the danger of the +cigarettes being in Valentin's possession, and instead +of trying to warn him simply came and took +them away. It is not a particularly plausible +explanation; but let us admit it, for the moment, +in order to get ahead with our reasoning. Suppose +Valentin, the man with the black beard, and +Mary Lanahan, the nurse, to be all working together, +either with Mrs. Stapleton, or with outside +parties. They have the child safely hidden. +They abduct you, and send the message to Mr. +Stapleton through you. They do not trust you, +knowing, no doubt, that you are an agent of my +office. They send Valentin along, on the back +of the machine, to pretend to be an enemy of +theirs trying, like yourself, to recover the child. +He thus gets into your confidence. He advises<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> +you to report your message from the kidnappers +to Mr. Stapleton at once. He questions you, and +learns that you do not know the location of the +house where the child is hidden. He then offers +to show you as nearly as he can where the house +is located. If he is in league with the kidnappers, +he will take you, and the men whom tomorrow I +shall send with you, to some location miles removed +from the actual point where the child is +concealed, and you will waste the day in a useless +search. Decidedly it would be a clever move +on their part."</p> + +<p>"It certainly would."</p> + +<p>"Further, you told this fellow that you had a +plan to capture the scoundrels. You are to acquaint +him with that plan, tomorrow afternoon. +If you do so, he will no doubt get to the telephone +on some pretext and warn his comrades of what +you intend to do. I strongly recommend that +you put no faith in the fellow whatever."</p> + +<p>"Still, you would advise trying to locate the +house, as he suggests?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, we may be wrong about him. We must +leave no stone unturned. And now we come to +your interview with Mr. Stapleton. You gave +him the message, of course. What did he say?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span>"He said that he intended to carry out the instructions +I gave him to the letter—pay these +fellows their money, and get back the boy."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Lefevre uttered an exclamation of +anger. "Sacré! He must not do that! The +stupid fellow! He will spoil everything!"</p> + +<p>Grace laughed quietly to herself. "Hardly +stupid, Monsieur! The poor man is half mad +over the boy's loss. He will do anything, to get +him back. I can scarcely blame him."</p> + +<p>The Prefect held out his hand. "I beg your +pardon, my child. You are right. It is perhaps +but natural for him to feel as he does. But there +are other things at stake, than the recovery of +the child. For Monsieur Stapleton to pay over +this huge sum to these criminals, and then to +allow them to escape, is not only a grave reflection +upon the efficiency of the Paris police, but is +an injustice to the public as well. If these men +are successful in this attempt, they will make +others. Other children will be stolen. I cannot +permit it. It must be prevented at all costs. +These men must be brought to justice."</p> + +<p>"How can you prevent it, Monsieur? Mr. +Stapleton is determined."</p> + +<p>"That, my child, is the question. I cannot stop<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> +Monsieur Stapleton if he wishes to drive out +the road to Versailles and toss a hundred thousand +dollars into the first automobile that passes +him, showing a blue light." He rose and began +to walk up and down the room.</p> + +<p>"I have a plan, Monsieur," said Grace, quietly.</p> + +<p>"What is it, my child?" The Prefect regarded +her with an indulgent smile. He was very fond +of Grace. He regretted that he had been unable +to secure the services of her husband in this case. +He knew, from past experience, her cleverness; +but he did not believe that in a matter of this +sort she would be able to outwit men who were +probably among the shrewdest criminals in +Paris.</p> + +<p>"First," said Grace, "we will have the location +pointed out to us by Valentin thoroughly +searched."</p> + +<p>"Assuredly! It will, however, probably result +in nothing. Even if Valentin is telling the truth, +these fellows will beyond question have moved +the child before now to prepare for the work of +tomorrow evening."</p> + +<p>"Possibly. At any rate, we will try. After +that, I shall want Valentin to drive a motor car +for me. He is an accomplished chauffeur."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span>"You will take him into your confidence, then?" +asked the Prefect, in some alarm.</p> + +<p>"No. I shall tell him nothing, except that he +is to drive the car, and where."</p> + +<p>"Very well. But be careful. What next?"</p> + +<p>Grace leaned over and spoke to the Prefect in +low tones for several minutes. He listened to +what she said, occasionally smiling, and nodding +his head. Presently he brought his hand down +sharply upon the table. "Bravo!" he exclaimed. +"You were born to be a detective. We will get +the kidnappers, the money, and in all probability +the child as well. I congratulate you!"</p> + +<p>"You think it will work, then?"</p> + +<p>"I do not see how it can fail. It is an inspiration. +I shall certainly feel very well satisfied +indeed, if I can return to Monsieur Stapleton +both his child and his money, and at the same +time place the kidnappers behind the bars. I +could never permit it to be said that the police +of Paris would knowingly allow a desperate band +of criminals to get away with half a million of +francs without lifting a hand to prevent it." He +rose and glanced at his watch. "Come, my +child. It is after midnight. You have had a long +and exciting day. You had better get some rest."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span>Grace rose. "Richard seemed awfully puzzled +when he saw me."</p> + +<p>"Did he?" The Prefect laughed mischievously. +"Really it is a great joke upon him. To +be within a step of his own wife, and not to know +her!"</p> + +<p>Grace seemed scarcely to appreciate the humor +of the situation. "I think it's a shame," she said, +"Poor Richard. He'll never forgive me. I really +think I ought to tell him."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Lefevre shook his head. "If you +do that, my dear child, everything will be spoiled. +He will insist upon your dropping the case at +once, and that would certainly not be fair to me."</p> + +<p>"But, Monsieur, after all, you really do not +need me, with all the clever men you have upon +your staff."</p> + +<p>"Who knows? Perhaps you may succeed, +where they will fail. I have great faith in the +intuition of a woman. And already you have +advanced the case further in forty-eight hours +than my men have done in ten days. It was a +chance, I will admit, that these rascals should +have chosen you to deliver their demands to +Monsieur Stapleton. I confess I do not understand +their reasons for doing so. They must<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> +have known that besides telling your story to him, +you would also tell it to me. It may have been +sheer bravado on their part—it is a characteristic, +I have noted, in many criminals. They seem to +glory in defying the police. These fellows, no +doubt, think that they have matters so arranged +that capture is impossible. I think we shall give +them a little surprise."</p> + +<p>He turned to the door, and held it open, allowing +Grace to pass into the hall. "Good night, +my child," he called out to her, as she began to +ascend the stairs. "I think I will smoke one more +cigar."</p> + +<p>As for Grace, she lay awake a long time, thinking +of Richard, of their home in the country, of +the happy hours they had spent there—before this +unexpected interruption to their honeymoon. It +seemed very queer to her, to be lying there, alone. +She had not gotten used to it. And somewhere, +in this big city, Richard was also sleeping—and +she not with him! The excitement of the affair +was beginning to die out. The meeting with Richard +on the boat, which she had planned when she +set out from home, had not materialized. She had +postponed this meeting, in her thoughts, until his +arrival in Paris, and now—he had come, and still<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> +she had not been able so much as to touch his +hand. She finally went to sleep, devoutly praying +that tomorrow, and the capture of the kidnappers, +would mark the end of their needless and +cruel separation.</p> + +<hr class="r15" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<p class="cap extraspacetop">PROMPTLY at eight o'clock the next evening +Mr. John Stapleton left his house in +the Avenue Kleber, in a big French touring +car, with François at the wheel.</p> + +<p>The car presented no points of peculiarity, +being like a thousand others to be seen any evening +upon the streets of Paris. It was of large +size, high powered, and painted a green so dark +as to be almost black.</p> + +<p>Mr. Stapleton sat in the tonneau, wearing a +dark blue serge suit, and a Panama hat. In his +left hand he clutched a small package, about the +size of a cigar box. In the package were banknotes +amounting to one hundred thousand dollars.</p> + +<p>Close beside his right foot lay a rubber bulb, +from which a short pipe extended through a hole +bored in the side of the car. The end of the pipe +held a small brass nozzle. It projected but a +short distance beyond the body of the car, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> +in the dim light of early evening was quite invisible.</p> + +<p>Mr. Stapleton told his chauffeur to drive out +the road toward Versailles. "I feel like getting +some fresh air," he added. "It's rather warm, +tonight." Inwardly he was burning up with excitement.</p> + +<p>From Paris to Versailles is a matter of some +fourteen miles. Mr. Stapleton's car proceeded +slowly. He wanted to run no chances of missing +the car with the blue light.</p> + +<p>At the Porte de Versailles he paused long +enough to see Richard Duvall, standing in the +shadow of the gateway. Then he passed outside +of Paris.</p> + +<p>There were many automobiles and other vehicles +on the road. The evening was a pleasant +one, and all Paris seemed out taking the air. The +majority of the vehicles were coming toward the +city. He observed a car, some distance behind +him, containing a single occupant, a man of middle +age, but paid no attention to it. His eyes +were strained to detect in the cars approaching +him some evidence of the signal light which was +to rouse him to sudden action.</p> + +<p>He noticed that François, like himself, was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> +carefully scrutinizing each car as it approached +them. He wondered if the chauffeur could have +any idea of the purpose of his expedition; but +presently dismissed the thought as entirely unlikely, +and devoted himself to the passing cars.</p> + +<p>He had proceeded perhaps four or five miles +beyond the fortifications, when he saw a large +car approaching slowly from the direction of +Versailles. It contained but two persons, the +chauffeur, and a heavily veiled woman.</p> + +<p>The chauffeur, who was keenly observing the +machine in which Mr. Stapleton sat, began to +swerve to the right side of the road, so as to +pass as closely to the banker's car as possible. At +the same moment there showed through the gathering +darkness a brilliant spot of blue light in the +tonneau where sat the woman.</p> + +<p>Mr. Stapleton was on his feet in an instant. +The two cars approached each other rapidly. It +was necessary for him to act with great quickness. +He shifted the package containing the money +from his left hand to his right, and a moment +later had tossed it lightly into the other car.</p> + +<p>He saw at once that it landed safely within, and +at the same instant he pressed his foot down hard +upon the rubber bulb. In a moment the car with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> +the blue light had swept past, and was disappearing +rapidly in the direction of Paris.</p> + +<p>Mr. Stapleton leaned forward and addressed +François in a voice which quivered with excitement. +"Drive home at once," he commanded.</p> + +<p>In a moment he was following the first car +toward the city.</p> + +<p>He did not notice, as he swept down the darkening +road, the car which had been following +him all the way from Paris. It continued on its +way toward Versailles. In it were two people. +At the wheel sat a man who bore, in the semi-darkness, +a striking resemblance to François, Mr. +Stapleton's chauffeur, while in the rear sat a +figure, in dark suit and Panama hat, which seemed +for all the world like that of the banker himself. +Had a casual observer not seen Mr. Stapleton +turn back toward Paris, he would have concluded +that he was still on his way toward Versailles.</p> + +<p>The occupants of this second car also appeared +to be keenly watching the various automobiles +which passed them, as though expecting some signal, +some recognition; yet, in spite of their eager +and expectant glances, they seemed doomed to +disappointment.</p> + +<p>At last Versailles was reached. The elderly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> +man in the tonneau gave a short command, his +chauffeur turned the car about, and they began to +return to Paris. Nothing further whatever happened +on the Versailles road.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Richard Duvall, at the Porte de +Versailles, was carefully scrutinizing the various +incoming machines that passed the gate and entered +the city. With a brilliant electric searchlight +he examined their bodies and wheels, looking +always for the telltale red stains which +would identify the kidnappers' car. Beside him +stood Vernet, one of the Prefect's assistants, with +whom Duvall had become well acquainted during +his former stay in Paris.</p> + +<p>"Well, Monsieur Duvall," remarked the latter, +"a most ingenious plan—this of yours. I wonder +if it will be successful?"</p> + +<p>"I feel sure of it."</p> + +<p>"I hope you are right." He looked at his +watch. "Half past eight. About time, I should +think, from what you tell me. Here is a big fellow, +now. A Pasquet, by her looks. Six-cylinder, +too."</p> + +<p>Duvall glanced at the oncoming car. A wagon +which preceded it was just passing the gates. The +big Pasquet slowed up, and almost stopped.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span>The detective threw the rays of his searchlight +on the body of the car, then started back with an +exclamation. From one end to the other, the +dark green finish of the sides and wheels was +spattered and streaked with bright red paint. +Dust had settled in it, in places, especially on the +wheels; but above, on the doors, it was clear and +unmistakable.</p> + +<p>"Vernet," he shouted, excitedly, "it is the one! +Quick! Don't let them get away."</p> + +<p>Vernet stepped up to the quivering motor. At +the wheel sat a young man, quite composed. In +the tonneau, a veiled woman reclined at ease. In +her hands she held a brown paper package.</p> + +<p>She leaned toward Vernet, and spoke a single +word to him. Duvall did not hear what it was; +but its effect upon the Prefect's man was instantaneous—electrical. +He stepped back and raised +his hat. "Pardon, Madame," he said, and the +Pasquet rolled through the gate and into the +streets of Paris unmolested.</p> + +<p>Duvall had sprung forward, and, as he did so, +swept the occupants of the car with his electric +searchlight. Suddenly he drew back in amazement, +just as Vernet allowed the car to pass on. +He could scarcely believe that what he saw was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> +a reality. There was the big black car, its body +and wheels plentifully bespattered with the identifying +red stain—and there, at the wheel, sat +Alphonse Valentin, while the veiled woman in the +rear was—Grace!</p> + +<p>He did not know it was Grace—he did know +that it was the woman who had been with Valentin +in his room, who had brought the message from +the kidnappers to Mr. Stapleton, who, in some +far off and intangible way, reminded him of +Grace.</p> + +<p>There she sat, in her hand the package containing +Mr. Stapleton's money—and Vernet doffed +his cap to her, and permitted her to go on! Was +this woman, then, hoodwinking even the police?</p> + +<p>He sprang to Vernet's side. "Stop them!" he +cried, in a hoarse voice. "They are the ones I +am after."</p> + +<p>Vernet shook his head. "Impossible, Monsieur. +They are given safe conduct by Monsieur +the Prefect himself."</p> + +<p>"But—they are thieves—kidnappers!"</p> + +<p>Vernet shrugged his shoulders. "It may be so, +Monsieur Duvall; but my orders are to let them +pass."</p> + +<p>The detective ground his teeth, helpless. His<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> +scheme for identifying the criminals had worked +perfectly. He had found them, only to see both +them and Mr. Stapleton's hundred thousand dollars +as well slip quietly through his fingers. He +cursed the whole police force of Paris roundly, +in his anger.</p> + +<p>The arrival of another car distracted his attention. +It was Mr. Stapleton, hurrying home, +in the hope of finding his boy. Duvall did not +stop him. The banker was evidently thinking of +nothing but his lost son.</p> + +<p>Several other cars passed. Duvall had no +interest in them. He was about to turn away, +with the intention of hunting up Mr. Stapleton +and learning whether or not the boy had been +returned to him, when he heard a familiar voice +calling him by name. He turned. It was Monsieur +Lefevre, in a big dark green car.</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! Duvall!" the Prefect cried, in +pretended surprise. "You here! In Paris! Or +do my eyes deceive me?"</p> + +<p>The detective looked a bit sheepish. He realized +that in not calling on his old friend before +now, he had been guilty of an apparent rudeness +which Monsieur Lefevre might justly resent. +"Monsieur," he cried, "it is indeed I." He put<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> +out his hand, and grasped that of his old chief +warmly. "A little matter of business brought me +to Paris. I have only just arrived."</p> + +<p>"Indeed." The Prefect's eyes twinkled. "I +hope, my dear fellow, that your other engagements +will permit you to come and see me before +long."</p> + +<p>"I shall come this very evening, Monsieur. In +fact, I have a matter of the utmost importance +to discuss with you. Shall you be at liberty?"</p> + +<p>"In an hour, <i>mon ami</i>. Until then I have +other things to occupy me. Come to the Prefecture +in an hour. I shall be waiting for you. For +the present, adieu." He called an order to his +chauffeur, and drove rapidly off into the darkness.</p> + +<p>Duvall turned on his heel and began to look +for a taxicab. "Good night, Vernet," he called +out, as he went up the street.</p> + +<p>In half an hour, he had reached Mr. Stapleton's +house. He found the unfortunate banker +striding up and down his library in a towering +rage. "The fellows have deceived me!" he cried. +"They have not brought back my boy. Did you +see anything of them? Tell me!" He grasped +Duvall nervously by the arm.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span>"The car into which you threw the package +of money contained, besides the chauffeur, but +one occupant, a woman, did it not?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—yes! Did you get her?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Why not? Did your scheme to identify the +car fail to work?"</p> + +<p>"On the contrary, it worked perfectly. I +stopped the car at the barrier. The woman in it +had the package of money in her hand."</p> + +<p>"And you did not arrest her! In Heaven's +name, why not?"</p> + +<p>"The police would not permit me to do so. +The woman was the same one who brought you +the message last night, the supposed agent of +the police. They allowed her to pass the gates."</p> + +<p>"What?" the banker fairly shouted his question. +"This is ridiculous! Is the woman a criminal, +or is she a detective? She cannot be both, +and if she is the latter why was she in that car, +with my money in her hand?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know. But I mean to find out very +shortly."</p> + +<p>"How? I'd like to know!"</p> + +<p>"I am going to see the Prefect of Police at +once."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span>Mr. Stapleton sank into a chair, and groaned. +"I had hoped to have Jack with me by now. +His poor mother is distracted. Isn't there anything, +Mr. Duvall, that you can do?"</p> + +<p>"I hope to answer that question better, Mr. +Stapleton, after I have seen Monsieur Lefevre. +If this woman, and her companion, Valentin, are +really the kidnappers, they are in Paris, and we +shall be able to lay our hands on them without +difficulty. If they are not, your money, at least +is safe. I must leave you now; but as soon as +I learn anything, I will report to you at once. +Good night."</p> + +<p>He left the house, more mystified than he had +ever been in his life. From the start, this case +had apparently been one in which all the clues +led to absurd contradictions, or else to nothing +at all.</p> + +<p>In fifteen minutes he was at the Prefecture.</p> + +<p>Monsieur Lefevre sent out word that he would +be occupied for a few moments, and the detective +sat down as patiently as possible, to wait.</p> + +<hr class="r15" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<p class="cap extraspacetop">THE events of the Versailles road left Grace +Duvall in a high state of good humor. +The plan she had suggested had been a +success—at least so far as her own part in it +was concerned. How Monsieur Lefevre had +fared, she did not yet know. She looked down +at the brown paper package she held in her +hand, and ordered Valentin to drive to the Prefecture.</p> + +<p>The day had been an eventful one. Immediately +after breakfast Grace had gone to Mr. +Stapleton's house and had a long interview with +Mrs. Stapleton. That lady, apparently quite +prostrated from worry and alarm over the fate +of her son, received her in her boudoir, where she +lay, a charming picture, upon a divan.</p> + +<p>Grace had no more than entered the room, +when she detected the odor of cigarette smoke, +faint but unmistakable. She glanced at the table +which stood beside the divan upon which Mrs.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> +Stapleton lay. On it, a tiny porcelain ash receiver +contained a fluffy mass of gray-white ashes, and +the half smoked remains of a cigarette. The tip, +partly covered by the ashes, was of gold.</p> + +<p>The girl engaged her hostess in a long conversation, +quieting her fears, which seemed real +enough, and predicting the early recovery of her +boy. It was quite evident that Mrs. Stapleton +was terribly nervous. No doubt this accounted +for the cigarettes. Although Grace did not use +them herself, she knew how their quieting effect +on the nerves made them almost necessities, at +times, to their devotees.</p> + +<p>Presently she observed that Mrs. Stapleton +held within her left hand, concealed beneath the +folds of her kimono, a small pasteboard box, +a box of cigarettes. Grace determined upon a +bold move.</p> + +<p>"May I have one of your cigarettes, Mrs. +Stapleton?" she asked, in her sweetest manner. +"I've forgotten to bring any with me—and—you +know how it is."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Stapleton's features relaxed into something +approaching a smile. She had been lying +there wondering whether she dared offer one to +Grace, and thus be able to sooth her own overstrained<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> +nerves. She brought forth the box and +extended it toward her visitor. Grace took one +of the tiny cylinders and lit it. <i>It was of the +same make as the one she had secured in Alphonse +Valentin's room!</i></p> + +<p>She took her departure a little later, wondering +greatly. The whole affair had begun to take +on an air of baffling contradiction.</p> + +<p>She spent the rest of the morning, and most +of the afternoon, searching the houses near +the point on the road to Versailles indicated by +Valentin. With her were three men from the +Prefect's office—silent, able men, in plain clothes, +who pretended to be keepers from the <i>Jardin +des Plantes</i>, in search of a dangerous cobra, which +was supposed to have escaped from its cage the +night before.</p> + +<p>The terrified householders threw open their +doors with unassumed alacrity. The suggestion +of a deadly reptile lurking in their gardens was a +veritable open sesame. Yet no traces of the missing +boy were found, and, more remarkable still, +Grace was unable to identify any of the many +gardens as the one in which she had seen the +child playing with the spaniel. This disappointed +her greatly. She knew well that, if Valentin was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> +telling the truth, the garden was here; yet, although +they visited every house within a quarter +of a mile, they were unable to locate it. She remembered +now that in her agitation, her eager +examination of the child, she had not fixed upon +her mind any salient point in the garden itself. +All that she remembered was a bit of grass, a +gravel walk, and the child playing with the dog. +A dozen of the little enclosures presented similar +features. She returned to the prefecture, baffled.</p> + +<p>"The fellow is undoubtedly lying," had been +Monsieur Lefevre's comment. "He is trying to +throw you off the track, in order to protect the +nurse, and possibly Mrs. Stapleton as well. I +should not be surprised to find that the boy's +mother is the guilty person."</p> + +<p>Grace did not agree with him; so she said +nothing. In spite of the fact that Mrs. Stapleton +used cigarettes similar to those which seemed +in some queer way to be at the bottom of the +mystery, she had an intuitive feeling that the +grief which the banker's wife showed was entirely +real.</p> + +<p>At half past seven, Grace left the prefecture +in a high-powered car, furnished by Monsieur +Lefevre. Alphonse Valentin was at the wheel.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> +In her hand she held a pocket electric searchlight, +across the front of which had been affixed a circular +bit of blue glass.</p> + +<p>At ten minutes to eight she arrived at Versailles. +She at once ordered Valentin to turn and +drive back toward Paris at moderate speed. She +did not take him into her confidence regarding +what she proposed to do, but kept a keen watch +for the car containing Mr. Stapleton.</p> + +<p>Her plan had worked. Mr. Stapleton, seeing +her signal, had tossed her the package of money—she +only hoped that the other part of her plan +had been carried out with equal success.</p> + +<p>The other part of the plan had been this: +Monsieur Lefevre, who in build and general appearance +was not unlike Mr. Stapleton, was to +follow the latter's car in a machine of the same +make and general appearance. He was to be +driven by a chauffeur made up to resemble François +sufficiently to be mistaken for him in the +dim light of early evening. He himself was to +make such alterations in his appearance and dress +as would enable him to pass, under a cursory +examination, for Stapleton. In the bottom of the +car two armed men lay concealed.</p> + +<p>When the car containing Mr. Stapleton turned<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> +back toward Paris, after having unwittingly delivered +the money to Grace, the Prefect would +continue on toward Versailles. He would know +that the car containing the kidnappers was still +ahead of him; since, had it not been, it, instead of +Grace's car, would have signaled Mr. Stapleton.</p> + +<p>Grace had started out from Versailles especially +early, convinced that the kidnappers +would not leave there until eight, at least. In +this assumption she was correct. The car containing +the kidnappers was, at that moment, +creeping toward Paris some two miles in her +rear, looking everywhere for Mr. Stapleton.</p> + +<p>The Prefect pursued his way toward Versailles +in anxious expectancy. Each moment he thought +to see the blue signal flash from the various cars +which passed him. When it came, his men were +to spring up, and at once bring the other car to +a standstill by firing their guns, heavily charged +with buckshot, at its wheels. A punctured tire, +and the thing was done. His men, assisted by the +chauffeur, would then overpower the occupants +of the other car before they could realize what +had happened. In it they hoped to find the +child.</p> + +<p>The plan was well conceived; but unfortunately<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> +it did not work. Whatever the reason, none of +the cars which passed the Prefect on his way to +Versailles displayed the telltale blue light. All +seemed but peaceable automobilists, intent on +reaching Paris and its restaurants as quickly as +possible. Had his disguise been penetrated? He +could not believe it. He returned to the Prefecture +in great disgust, wondering in what way +matters had gone wrong.</p> + +<p>Grace was waiting for him, an eager smile +on her face. "Here is the money," she said, +placing the package on his desk. "Did you get +the men?"</p> + +<p>"No." The Prefect flung himself into a chair. +"They did not signal."</p> + +<p>"But why, I wonder?" The failure of her +plan was extremely annoying.</p> + +<p>"I can think of but one reason. There must +have been some way in which these fellows knew +the Stapleton car when they approached it—some +signal, perhaps, that I was unable to give."</p> + +<p>"But no such signal was mentioned in the instructions +I brought to Mr. Stapleton. He gave +none, as we approached him."</p> + +<p>"Did you observe anything peculiar about the +appearance of his car, anything that might have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> +served as a clue to enable these fellows to recognize +it, even in the dark, with certainty?"</p> + +<p>Grace thought a moment, then her face fell. +"There was one thing that I noticed as Mr. +Stapleton's car came up to us; but I am afraid +I failed to realize its significance at the time."</p> + +<p>"What was it?"</p> + +<p>"The electric headlight on the side nearest to +me was working very badly. In fact, it seemed +to be almost out. The other was burning brilliantly."</p> + +<p>The Prefect sprang to his feet. "Sacré!" he +exclaimed. "Of course. The thing is as plain as +the nose on your face!"</p> + +<p>"But who—"</p> + +<p>"François! The fellow is in this thing up to +his neck. <i>He</i> claims to have been asleep when +the boy was stolen. <i>He</i> drives the car which +brings you back, after your abduction. <i>He</i>, disguised, +steals the box of cigarettes. <i>He</i> fixes the +lights so that the kidnappers are advised, not +only beyond any doubt that they are signaling +the right car, but that all is safe—that Monsieur +Stapleton has no detectives or members of the +police hidden in his tonneau. The thing is perfectly +clear. Believe me, my child, had there<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span> +been anyone in that car with Mr. Stapleton, those +lights would have both been burning with equal +brightness, as mine were. They did not give +me the signal, when they passed me, because the +lights failed to tell them that all was well."</p> + +<p>Grace looked up quickly. "Then, if that is +true, François knew that Mr. Stapleton had +thrown the money into the wrong car."</p> + +<p>"Undoubtedly, and by this time, no doubt, his +confederates know it as well. Naturally the +child has not been delivered. We are just where +we were before."</p> + +<p>"You will arrest François at once, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"No. It will be useless. By leaving him free, +we may learn something. By locking him up, +with no tangible evidence against him, we accomplish +nothing at all."</p> + +<p>"Then what do you advise?"</p> + +<p>"You will return the money to Mr. Stapleton +at once. You can tell him, if you wish, how it +came into your possession. He will be furious, +of course; but he must understand that the capture +of these scoundrels is quite as important to +the city of Paris as the recovery of his son. We +have done our best, and failed. We must try +again."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span>"Richard was at the Porte de Versailles," remarked +Grace, quietly. "He tried to stop my +car."</p> + +<p>"Yes. I saw him. He is coming here at +once."</p> + +<p>The girl rose, in nervous haste. "I must go, +then. It would be most unwise to have him find +me here."</p> + +<p>There was a quick knock at the door. The +Prefect rose, and opened it; then turned to Grace +with a grim smile. "Your husband is waiting in +the anteroom," he whispered.</p> + +<p>"But—what shall I do?"</p> + +<p>"Wait in here." Monsieur Lefevre opened +the door which led to his private office. "You +can hear everything quite plainly. From what +you tell me, I should not be surprised if he insisted +upon your arrest at once."</p> + +<p>"It isn't fair to him. Poor Richard! I'm +afraid he'll never forgive me for all this."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense! You are engaged in a very laudable +attempt to recover Mrs. Stapleton's child. +So is he. Your interests are identical. Only," +he paused with a significant smile, "from my +standpoint, I should much prefer that the credit +for the boy's recovery should belong to the police<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> +of Paris, of which you, for the time being, are +one."</p> + +<p>Richard Duvall came into the Prefect's office, +somewhat ill at ease. The room, familiar to him +because of the events of the past, reminded him +forcibly of Grace—who had, indeed been upon +his mind constantly for the past few days. It +was here, in this very room, that she had first +told him that she loved him—during the exciting +pursuit of Victor Girard, and the million francs. +He gazed about at its familiar aspect, and +sighed.</p> + +<p>"Sit down, my dear Duvall," said the Prefect, +shaking hands with him warmly. "What, may +I ask, brings you to Paris, at the cost of interrupting +your honeymoon? I had supposed that +nothing could be of sufficient importance for that. +In fact, had I known you would consider it for +a moment, I should have cabled to you, to give +me your assistance in a most trying case."</p> + +<p>"What case, Monsieur?"</p> + +<p>"The mysterious kidnapping of the child of +Monsieur Stapleton."</p> + +<p>"It is that very case that brings me to Paris. +I am in Mr. Stapleton's employ."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Lefevre affected to be greatly surprised.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> +"Is it possible, <i>mon ami</i>? That is bad +news indeed. This fellow Stapleton no longer +has confidence in my office. He retains you to do +that which he believes I shall fail to do. I am +sorry, my dear Duvall, that we are on opposite +sides of the fence."</p> + +<p>"But, Monsieur, I did not know that you +wanted me. Mr. Stapleton is an old friend. I +could not refuse to come to his assistance."</p> + +<p>Lefevre's eyes twinkled. "Have you made any +progress, then, my friend?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Tonight I put in operation a plan whereby +I might identify an automobile containing the +kidnappers, into which Mr. Stapleton had been +directed to throw a package containing one hundred +thousand dollars."</p> + +<p>"Indeed. You interest me. And did you succeed +in identifying it?"</p> + +<p>"I did. I stopped the car, at the Porte de Versailles. +I knew it to be the one into which the +money had been thrown. The car was driven by +a man named Alphonse Valentin, whom I have +every reason to suspect is concerned in this affair. +Its only other occupant was a woman—whom I +met last night in Valentin's rooms, and who +brought Mr. Stapleton a message from the kidnappers.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> +This woman is, I believe, at the bottom +of the whole thing."</p> + +<p>"Indeed. And did you arrest her?"</p> + +<p>"No. She claims to be an agent of your +office. Vernet, who was at the gates at my request, +refused to place her and her companion +under arrest. She got away with Mr. Stapleton's +money. I believe, Monsieur Lefevre, that you +are being made a fool of by a member of your +own staff."</p> + +<p>The Prefect leaned over, and picked up the +package containing the money which lay upon his +desk. "I do not agree with you, my friend. Here +is Monsieur Stapleton's money."</p> + +<p>Duvall started back in his chair, amazed. +"Good Lord, Chief, am I losing my senses? +What is this affair, anyway, a joke?"</p> + +<p>"Far from it, Monsieur Duvall. The criminals +are still at large. The boy is in their hands. +We must recover him."</p> + +<p>"But—this money—"</p> + +<p>"I arranged to get it, in order to prevent Monsieur +Stapleton from making a fool of himself. +I wish to capture these men—not to let them +blackmail him out of half a million francs."</p> + +<p>"Had you not interfered, Monsieur Lefevre,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> +they would have been in my hands, by now. I +would have had them safely the moment they +attempted to enter Paris. I knew their car."</p> + +<p>The Prefect was filled with curiosity. "How?" +he asked.</p> + +<p>"My means of a device with which Mr. Stapleton's +car was equipped, the body of the one into +which he threw the money was spattered with red +paint. I could have identified it anywhere."</p> + +<p>"My dear Duvall! I feel that I should beg +your pardon. Your plan was cleverness itself, +and I will admit that, had I not interfered, you +would in all probability have captured these men. +I did not know what you had done, of course. +Yet in their escape I have one consolation. It +would have been extremely distasteful to me, to +have had Mr. Stapleton boast that a private detective +in his employ had succeeded, where the +police of Paris had failed."</p> + +<p>"Then it would appear, Monsieur," said Duvall +somewhat stiffly, "that we are, in this matter +at least, in opposition."</p> + +<p>"Let us rather say, my friend, in competition." +He placed his hand on Duvall's shoulder. "You +must not blame me, if I feel a pride in my office. +When you were working for the city of Paris,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> +you, too, felt that pride. I am truly sorry that +I have not the benefit of your services now. However, +I think you will admit, <i>mon ami</i>, that the +young woman who is handing this case is no mean +adversary." The Prefect regarded the detective +with a quizzical smile, behind which his eyes +twinkled merrily.</p> + +<p>"Who is this woman?" asked Duvall, quickly.</p> + +<p>"Her name is—Goncourt—Estelle Goncourt."</p> + +<p>"A Frenchwoman?"</p> + +<p>"Partly. I believe her mother was English." +The twinkle in his eye spread—he smiled upon +the detective with expansive good humor. "Why +do you ask?"</p> + +<p>"You will think it strange, perhaps, Monsieur +Lefevre, but when I first saw Miss Goncourt, she +reminded me strongly of my wife."</p> + +<p>"Of Grace?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Have you not observed it?"</p> + +<p>"Now that you speak of it, perhaps there is +something similar in the manner—the carriage. +But your wife, my dear Duvall, is a blonde, while +Mademoiselle Goncourt is decidedly a brunette."</p> + +<p>"Yes. Of course. But, nevertheless, the resemblance +is striking." He rose to go. "I hope, Monsieur, +that this kidnapped boy may be restored<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> +to his father very soon. I am anxious to return +to America."</p> + +<p>"What! Leave Paris so quickly? My dear +Duvall, I thought you Americans loved our city +so well, that you never wanted to leave it."</p> + +<p>"Paris is all right, Monsieur; but," he laughed +heartily, "I must get back to my wife and my +farm. I was forced to leave in the very middle +of my spring plowing."</p> + +<p>The Prefect roared. "You—a farmer! Mon +Dieu! How droll! Potatoes, I suppose, and +chickens, and dogs, and pigs—"</p> + +<p>"Exactly—and, believe me, Monsieur, they are +more to my liking, than all the gaieties of Paris. +Some day you must make us a visit, and see for +yourself." He turned toward the door.</p> + +<p>"I shall, Duvall, I shall. But first we have +to find this boy. What do you propose to do +next?"</p> + +<p>Duvall smiled. "What do you?" he retorted.</p> + +<p>"A bottle of champagne, my friend, and a dinner +at the Café Royale, that we find the child +before you do!"</p> + +<p>"Done! Now I'll be off. Good night."</p> + +<p>The Prefect was still laughing when Grace +peeped in from the private office, to find that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span> +Richard had gone. "I think it's a shame to treat +him so," she said. "The poor fellow! And he +<i>would</i> have gotten the kidnappers, if we hadn't +interfered."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Lefevre picked up the package containing +Mr. Stapleton's money and placed it carefully +in his safe. "Tomorrow you must return +it to him," he said. "And then, I would suggest +that you keep a close watch upon Mrs. Stapleton. +My men have not been keeping her under surveillance. +We have had no suspicions of her +whatever. She may, if she is concerned in this +matter, be imprudent enough to attempt to visit +the child."</p> + +<p>"And if not?"</p> + +<p>"Then watch François. If nothing comes of +your efforts in either direction, I fear that we +must wait for the kidnappers to make the next +move. Of course there is Valentin—"</p> + +<p>"Valentin is innocent."</p> + +<p>"How do you know that?"</p> + +<p>"I have watched him. He did everything in +his power, tonight, to assist me. Had he been +in league with the kidnappers, he could, after he +knew that I had secured the money, easily have +driven the car to some quiet spot and taken it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> +from me. I was waiting for some such move; +but he, as you know, did not attempt it. I am +sure that he is doing his best to assist us."</p> + +<p>"In that event, perhaps you can induce him to +tell you the secret of the box of cigarettes. I feel +sure that this knowledge would go far toward +solving the entire affair."</p> + +<p>"I'll have a talk with him tomorrow."</p> + +<p>"Good! And now, if you are ready, we will +return home at once."</p> + +<p>"Dear old Richard!" said Grace, as the Prefect +helped her into his automobile. "I wish I +were with him tonight."</p> + +<p>Lefevre smiled, and patted her hand. "So do +I, my dear. But, remember, you have only to +find Mr. Stapleton's child, and you can return to +your chickens and your cows with the knowledge +that you have done both his parents and myself +an inestimable service."</p> + +<hr class="r15" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<p class="cap extraspacetop">IT was close to eight o'clock next evening +when Grace Duvall arrived at Mr. Stapleton's +house with the package containing the +money.</p> + +<p>She was accompanied, for safety, by two men +from the Prefecture, who escorted her to the +door.</p> + +<p>She had paid a previous visit to the house, +during the forenoon; but Mr. Stapleton was not +at home, and she was informed that he would +not return until evening.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Stapleton she saw again; but her talk +with the latter resulted in nothing. The poor +lady was in utter despair, after the fiasco of the +night before, and spent the day in her rooms, +weeping.</p> + +<p>It was quite clear to Grace that her grief was +very real. She made up her mind that, whatever +the mystery of the gold-tipped cigarettes, Mrs. +Stapleton had nothing to do with it. Nor had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> +the chauffeur, Valentin, been more communicative. +He refused pointblank to explain the presence +of the cigarettes in his room, or the reason +why Mary Lanahan had written requesting him +to destroy them. He said that it was a matter +which concerned only the nurse and himself, and +assured Grace that an answer to her questions +would not assist in the least in recovering the +missing child.</p> + +<p>Mr. Stapleton was awaiting her in the library +when she entered. The Prefect had telephoned +him, advising him that the money was safe, and +would be returned to him at once. Beyond that, +he knew nothing, except what Duvall had told +him the night before. Consequently he was in a +decidedly bad humor.</p> + +<p>Grace laid the money on the table. "Here is +your hundred thousand dollars, Mr. Stapleton," +she said.</p> + +<p>The irate banker glared at her. "I cannot +thank you for bringing it back, Miss," he growled. +"Did I not particularly request that the police +take no steps in the matter?"</p> + +<p>"You did, Mr. Stapleton; but we acted for +what we thought to be your best interests."</p> + +<p>"Hang your thoughts about my best interests!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> +I can take care of them. If you had let things +alone, I'd have my boy back by now."</p> + +<p>"And these men, these criminals, who stole him, +would be at liberty to do the same thing over +again tomorrow."</p> + +<p>Mr. Stapleton was silent for a moment. "How +did the thing happen?" he presently asked.</p> + +<p>Grace told him. "The real cause of our failure, +we believe, lies at the door of your chauffeur, +François." She explained the reasons for their +suspicions.</p> + +<p>Mr. Stapleton seemed puzzled. "The fellow +seems honest enough."</p> + +<p>"Where is he now?" Grace inquired.</p> + +<p>"He asked permission to visit his people. As +I had no use for him this evening, I told him he +might go."</p> + +<p>"Ah! In that event, we may learn something. +He is being closely watched."</p> + +<p>As Grace spoke, a servant entered the room. +"There is a gentleman to see you, sir," he said +to Mr. Stapleton.</p> + +<p>"Who is it?"</p> + +<p>"He would not give his name. He said his +business was urgent."</p> + +<p>"Where is he now?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span>"In the reception room, sir."</p> + +<p>Mr. Stapleton rose. "Excuse me a moment," +he said, and went into the adjoining room.</p> + +<p>The library was separated from the reception +room by a short passageway, or alcove, in which +hung a pair of heavy curtains. Grace sat quietly, +waiting for Mr. Stapleton to return. Suddenly +she realized that she could distinctly hear what +was going on in the room adjoining. For a moment +she thought of going into the hall; then +a word or two caught her attention, and in a +moment she was close to the curtains, listening +intently to a most remarkable conversation.</p> + +<p>The man who had asked to see Mr. Stapleton +stood in the reception room, near a broad window +overlooking the street without. He was tall and +somewhat heavily built; but what at once attracted +Grace's attention was his heavy black beard. She +recognized him at once as the man who had +broken into Valentin's room to steal the cigarettes, +and had later driven the car which brought +her back to Paris after her abduction.</p> + +<p>He was speaking to Mr. Stapleton in a quiet +and assured tone, as though discussing a topic of +no greater importance than the weather.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Stapleton," he said, "I have your son in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> +my possession. He is quite safe. I gave you +an opportunity to have him returned to you last +night; but you did not avail yourself of it."</p> + +<p>"I did my best," exclaimed the astounded +banker, mastering his desire to take the fellow by +the throat.</p> + +<p>"That may be; yet my plans were interfered +with. You did not carry out my instructions."</p> + +<p>"I did—to the letter."</p> + +<p>The man frowned. "It is useless to discuss +the matter now," he growled. "I come to give +you one more chance. It will be the last—"</p> + +<p>"You damned scoundrel!"</p> + +<p>The man with the black beard held up his hand. +"It will avail nothing, Monsieur," he said, calmly, +"to excite yourself. If you want back your boy, +listen to what I have to say."</p> + +<p>"Very well. Go ahead."</p> + +<p>"First, I want no interference by the police, +or by the man Duvall, who is acting for you."</p> + +<p>Mr. Stapleton drew back in astonishment. +"How do you know that Mr. Duvall is acting for +me?" he said.</p> + +<p>"It is my business to know, Monsieur. Let it +suffice that I <i>do</i> know. If you hope ever to see +your child again, you had better listen to what<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> +I have to say, and carry out my instructions to the +letter." His voice was harsh, menacing.</p> + +<p>Mr. Stapleton directed him by a gesture, to +proceed. He was too angry to speak.</p> + +<p>"Tomorrow night at this hour—eight o'clock—I +shall come here, to this house, and ask for +you. You will hand me a package containing one +hundred thousand dollars. I will examine the +money here, and satisfy myself that the amount +is correct.</p> + +<p>"I shall then leave the house, and walk to the +Arc de Triomphe; which, as you know, is but a +short distance away. At the Arc de Triomphe, +I shall wait for an automobile, which will stop +for me. In that automobile I shall drive away. +If I get away safely without interference, there +will be telephoned to your house, within half an +hour, the address of the place where your boy +is to be found. If I do <i>not</i> get away safely, that +address will <i>not</i> be telephoned to you, and you +will not see your child alive again. This +is your last chance, Monsieur. It is most important, +I assure you, that nothing should happen +to prevent my safe departure tomorrow +night."</p> + +<p>For a moment Grace was undecided as to how<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> +she should act. She feared greatly, under the +circumstances, to make any move which would +endanger the safety of Mr. Stapleton's child. Yet +her duty, as an agent of the police, was clear. +She must use every effort to effect this man's capture, +before he left the house.</p> + +<p>She knew that she could not reach the street +without passing the door of the reception room, +in which case both Mr. Stapleton and his caller +would see her. There was nothing to do but +telephone. She flew to a small alcove room which +opened off the rear of the library, in which she +knew the telephone instrument was located. Once +in this small room, she closed the door, for fear +the others might overhear her, then called up the +Prefecture. Monsieur Lefevre was out; but she +acquainted one of his assistants with the circumstances, +and requested him to send a man to the +house at once.</p> + +<p>It would take at least ten minutes, perhaps +more, for the man from the Prefecture to reach +the house even though he came by automobile, as +he no doubt would. What should she do, to +keep the man in the reception room from leaving +before the police should arrive?</p> + +<p>The question was solved for her, quite unexpectedly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> +In opening the door of the small room, +to re-enter the library, she accidentally struck +against a chair. The sound aroused both Mr. +Stapleton and his visitor. The former, who had, +in his excitement, completely forgotten Grace's +presence, appeared at once in the doorway between +the two rooms. "Come here, Miss Goncourt," +he said sternly.</p> + +<p>Grace entered the reception room. The man +with the black beard eyed her keenly. "Ah—a +representative of the police, I believe. Our conversation +has been overheard, then, Monsieur +Stapleton?"</p> + +<p>The banker was violently angry. He turned +to Grace. "You have heard?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Then I insist that you do not interfere in +the matter in any way. I intend to get my boy +back this time, in spite of you all."</p> + +<p>Grace made no reply. She saw the man with +the black beard eying her keenly. "I think, +Monsieur, that I had better go," he remarked.</p> + +<p>Grace regarded him with a level look. "You +cannot leave this house," she said. "It is being +watched. If you attempt to do so, I will give +the alarm."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span>"And for what reason should I stay?" the man +inquired calmly.</p> + +<p>"I have telephoned to the Prefecture. A man +will be here in a few minutes, to place you under +arrest. I advise you to remain here quietly until +he arrives."</p> + +<p>The kidnapper strolled over to the window +which overlooked the Avenue Kleber, drew aside +the curtain, and looked out. Grace wondered +if he was making a signal of any sort to confederates +outside. He gazed into the street intently +for a moment, then turned back toward the +center of the room. "I shall follow your advice, +Mademoiselle, and wait," he remarked, calmly.</p> + +<p>Mr. Stapleton was speechless with rage. He +dared not do anything; for he knew that he would +only lay himself open to a charge of resisting the +police, and helping a criminal to escape. He sat +in his chair, inwardly cursing Grace and the entire +police force of Paris as well.</p> + +<p>None of the three spoke for a considerable +time. After what seemed to Grace ages, she +heard the faint ringing of the doorbell, and presently +the frightened servant arrived, with the +information that a detective from the Prefecture +was in the hall, and desired to see Mr. Stapleton<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> +immediately. He had scarcely succeeded in delivering +this message, when a heavily built man +in citizen's clothes shouldered past him into the +room.</p> + +<p>He gazed quickly about. Grace did not remember +having ever seen him before. "I am +from the Prefect of Police," he announced, striding +toward the kidnapper. "I am here to arrest +this man." In a moment the click of the handcuffs, +as he snapped them upon the wrists of the +man with the black beard, came to Grace's ears.</p> + +<p>The kidnapper smiled pleasantly. "I am quite +ready to accompany you, my friend," he said.</p> + +<p>Mr. Stapleton was regarding the scene in helpless rage. +He resented bitterly the way in which +the police continually interfered with his plans to +get back his child. In one way, he was glad to +feel that the guilty man was under arrest; but, if +it resulted in the death of the missing boy, it +would be a tragedy, indeed. He turned to the +man with the black beard who stood, smiling, +near the door. "I hope you will understand," he +said, "that I have nothing to do with this matter—nothing +whatever. The presence of this woman +here was a pure accident. I had forgotten that +she was in the next room. I'd be glad enough to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> +see you put behind the bars for the rest of your +life; but not if it is going to prevent me from +getting back my child."</p> + +<p>The man with the black beard continued to +smile pleasantly. "I believe you, my friend," he +said. "However, there is no harm done. When I +return tomorrow night—for I shall return, depend +upon it, in spite of the efforts of this gentleman," +he waved his hand lightly toward the +man from the Prefecture, "I trust that you will +have persuaded Monsieur Lefevre, and your man +Duvall as well, to let me do so in peace. It is +the only way in which anything can be accomplished—I +assure you of that." He turned to +his captor. "I am ready to accompany you, Monsieur."</p> + +<p>The officer started toward the door leading +into the hall. He had taken but a single step +when the servant, with a frightened look upon +his face, appeared in the doorway. "Mr. Stapleton," +he stammered, "there is a man here from +the office of the Prefect of Police."</p> + +<p>Stapleton strode toward the door. "Another?" +he exclaimed. "What does this mean?"</p> + +<p>The man in charge of the kidnapper stepped +forward, speaking in a quick, low tone. "Leave<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> +the matter to me, Monsieur," he whispered. +"This fellow who has just arrived is an impostor, +a confederate. He pretends to be an agent +of the police, in order to rescue his comrade, who +has undoubtedly signaled to him from the window. +Be good enough to step into that room," +he pointed to the library, "and let me deal with +him."</p> + +<p>Mr. Stapleton hesitated. "What do you propose +to do?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Quick!" said the other, offering no explanations. +"He will be here at once." He turned +to the astonished servant. "Bring the man in."</p> + +<p>The puzzled banker moved toward the adjoining room. +"You will accompany him, please," the +Prefect's man said to Grace. "There may be +danger."</p> + +<p>"I am not afraid, Monsieur," replied Grace, +who did not entirely like the way things were +going.</p> + +<p>The man, however, paid no attention to her +remonstrances. "Go—at once, I command you, +in the name of the law!"</p> + +<p>She hesitated no longer, but followed Mr. +Stapleton into the library. As she did so, the +new arrival entered the reception room.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span>The man with the black beard stood to one +side of the doorway. His captor advanced toward +the newcomer. "I have him here," he exclaimed, +pointing to the kidnapper, "safely +ironed."</p> + +<p>"Who are you?" curtly inquired the man who +had just entered the room.</p> + +<p>"A private detective. Here is your man. Let +us get him out of here at once."</p> + +<p>The official made no reply, but stepped quickly +up to the man with the black beard. "Come +along with me," he said, roughly, and placed his +hand upon the other's arm.</p> + +<p>As he did so, the kidnapper shook his wrists +briskly. The handcuffs fell clattering to the floor. +Without a word he threw his powerful arms about +the neck of the astonished official, and throttled +him into instant silence. His companion, no less +quick, whipped out a handkerchief, and knotted it +about the official's mouth. He was unable to +utter a sound.</p> + +<p>The whole thing was so quickly done that +Grace, who was watching the room through the +curtains in the doorway, had barely time to utter +a cry, before the newcomer was lying helpless +and silent upon the floor, choked into insensibility;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> +while the two men, quite evidently confederates, +made ready to go.</p> + +<p>The black-bearded fellow quickly replaced the +handcuffs upon his own wrists. "Quick, Ramond," +he cried. "Let us get out at once."</p> + +<p>Grace was by this time in the room. She knew +that she must in some way prevent these men +from escaping. But how—how? They glared +at her ominously. The younger man drew a +revolver. Before any of them could speak, the +servant appeared in the doorway for the third +time. His face was pale as death. His knees +knocked together from terror as he beheld the +gleaming revolver, the man lying upon the floor.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Duvall is here!" he gasped, and +stood silent.</p> + +<p>The man on the floor, recovering his senses, +began to struggle to his feet. As he did so, Duvall +pushed his way past the frightened servant +and strode into the room.</p> + +<p>"Quick, Monsieur Duvall!" the fellow with the +revolver cried. "I am from the Prefecture. I +have one of the kidnappers in irons. The other," +he pointed to the struggling man on the floor, +"is about to escape me. Give me your assistance +at once!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span>Grace was so astounded by the sudden entrance +of her husband, as well as by the kidnapper's +words, that for a moment she remained speechless. +Duvall bent over the man upon the floor +and seized him by the throat.</p> + +<p>"Richard! Richard!" Grace screamed, forgetful +of Monsieur Lefevre and her own disguise. +"Look out!"</p> + +<p>Almost before the words had left her lips, the +man with the revolver brought it down with a +dull thud upon Duvall's head as he bent over the +prostrate man; then, grasping his companion by +the arm, he rushed from the room.</p> + +<p>"Richard! Richard!" screamed Grace, throwing +her arms about the senseless body of her +husband.</p> + +<p>Mr. Stapleton, who had entered the room, regarded +her in amazement. "What are you +doing?" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Grace rose, her face white with suffering. "A +doctor, quick! He is hurt! My God—don't you +see? He is hurt!" As she spoke, she fell back, +fainting, to the floor.</p> + +<hr class="r15" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<p class="cap extraspacetop">WHEN Richard Duvall returned to consciousness, +an hour later, he lay upon +a couch in Mr. Stapleton's library. A +doctor, hastily summoned, was bending over him. +Mr. Stapleton sat grimly in an arm chair. There +was no one else in the room.</p> + +<p>"My wife! Is she here?" the detective cried, +as he tried to rise.</p> + +<p>The doctor pushed him gently back. "Compose +yourself, Monsieur," he said in a soothing +voice. "You are not badly hurt. Merely stunned +for the moment. A slight cut—that is all. You +will be quite yourself again in half an hour."</p> + +<p>"But my wife!" He gazed eagerly about +the room.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, Duvall?" inquired Mr. +Stapleton, calmly. "Why do you think your wife +is here?"</p> + +<p>"A trace of delirium. He will be all right in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span> +a few moments. Very usual in such cases," the +doctor whispered.</p> + +<p>"I heard her voice. She called to me by name, +just as that fellow struck me."</p> + +<p>"My dear sir, your mind is wandering. Compose +yourself, I beg." The doctor attempted to +press his patient back upon the pillows.</p> + +<p>Duvall passed his hand over his forehead, completely +bewildered. "I could have sworn I heard +her voice," he cried.</p> + +<p>"It was Miss Goncourt, the young woman from +the Prefecture, that you heard, Duvall," remarked +Mr. Stapleton quietly. He did not tell +the detective that Grace, on recovering from her +faint, and learning from the doctor that Richard's +wound was a superficial one only, and not +at all serious, had sworn them both to secrecy, +on the plea that the matter was a purely private +one, and likely to cause her great unhappiness +if divulged. Mr. Stapleton had agreed, but had +done so only upon her agreeing not to acquaint +the police with his plans for the following night.</p> + +<p>She had suddenly conceived a violent animosity +toward these fellows who had not only baffled +both her husband and herself, but had made the +former a victim of a dangerous assault. She was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> +determined to go to work in desperate earnest, +to capture them, or locate the child, before the +following evening. She had promised Mr. +Stapleton not to acquaint Monsieur Lefevre with +the plan for returning the child which the man +with the black beard had proposed. The situation +put her on her mettle. She determined to +get at the bottom of the whole affair before +another twenty-four hours had passed. Upon +leaving the house she called a taxicab, and at +once ordered the chauffeur to drive her to the +point on the Versailles road where, according to +Valentin, she had been placed in the automobile +after her interview with the kidnappers. Here, +she believed, lay the starting point of the whole +mysterious affair.</p> + +<p>Duvall, his consciousness returning, insisted +upon getting up from the couch, and going to +work with equal determination. The way in +which he had been checkmated, in the whole +affair, roused him, as well, to desperation. His +professional skill, upon which the banker had set +such great store, seemed to have deserted him. +He felt humiliated, ashamed. In three days, he +had accomplished nothing whatever. It was galling +in the extreme.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span>Mr. Stapleton's explanations of his hallucination +regarding his wife he accepted as true. The +resemblance which Miss Goncourt bore to Grace, +together with his constant thoughts of her, were, +he argued, no doubt responsible for it. The +blow upon the head made his recollections of the +moments immediately preceding and following +the assault extremely hazy. He put the matter +out of his mind, and set to work with renewed +energy.</p> + +<p>So far, it seemed, he had met with but a single +clue of any importance,—the cigarette with the +gold tip which he had found in the Bois de Boulogne. +He determined to follow this clue until +he arrived at some definite result.</p> + +<p>As soon as the doctor had departed after dressing +the wound in his head, Duvall took a stiff +drink of brandy, and, sitting down with Mr. +Stapleton at the latter's desk, began to reconstruct, +as far as he could, all the details of the kidnapping. +He spoke his thoughts aloud, taking Mr. +Stapleton into his confidence, since in this way +he could most readily get his ideas into concrete +form.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Stapleton, I am, I confess, greatly humiliated +at the progress, or lack of progress, which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> +I have made in this case so far. I have made up +my mind, however, to get these fellows, if it takes +me the rest of the summer."</p> + +<p>"You will have to work more quickly than that, +Mr. Duvall," observed the banker coldly. "I +have made arrangements to recover my child by +tomorrow night."</p> + +<p>"You are going to buy these rascals off, then?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"How?"</p> + +<p>"I decline to say. I've had enough interference +with my plans already. Neither you nor the +police have accomplished anything. Miss Goncourt +knows what I propose to do; but she has +given me her word not to interfere. If you are +to accomplish anything, it must be before eight +o'clock tomorrow night."</p> + +<p>"Very well. I will make my plans accordingly."</p> + +<p>"What do you propose to do?"</p> + +<p>"That I cannot say, at the moment. I think, +however, that I shall first try to find out who it +is that smokes these gold-tipped cigarettes." He +drew the fragment of cigarette which he had +found from his pocket, and placing it on the +desk before him regarded it critically.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span>Mr. Stapleton gave a grunt. "What are they, +Exquisites?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. How did you know?"</p> + +<p>The banker laughed. "Easy enough. My wife +smokes them."</p> + +<p>The detective looked up quickly. "Indeed! +Brings them from America with her, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>Duvall began mentally to check off, in his mind, +the various persons who might have used the +cigarette which lay before him. Valentin, he +now believed, was out of the question. His presence +in the automobile, with Grace, the night +before, indicated that he had nothing to do with +the kidnappers.</p> + +<p>There remained Mrs. Stapleton. Duvall had +talked with her—seen her grief. He was too +shrewd a judge of human nature to think for a +moment that it was assumed.</p> + +<p>Who else? Suddenly an idea flashed into his +mind. He wondered that he had not thought of +it before. The nurse! He recalled vividly the +marks he had observed on the dresser in the +woman's room in New York.</p> + +<p>"Is Mary Lanahan in the house?" he inquired +of Stapleton.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span>"Yes. Why?"</p> + +<p>"Kindly have her come here."</p> + +<p>Mr. Stapleton pressed a button on his desk in +silence. In a few moments, the nurse had been +brought to the room by one of the other servants. +She was haggard with grief and fear.</p> + +<p>Duvall requested her to be seated, and began +to ask her a number of apparently unimportant +questions regarding the kidnapping.</p> + +<p>She answered them frankly enough, although +it was clear that she was very ill at ease.</p> + +<p>Presently Duvall got up, and, calling Mr. +Stapleton to one side, asked him, in a low tone, +to detain the nurse in the library for a few moments. +He wished to search her room.</p> + +<p>"But it has already been thoroughly searched +by the police."</p> + +<p>"I know. But I must search it again. It will +require but a few moments."</p> + +<p>Stapleton nodded. "I will wait for you here, +Mr. Duvall," he said. "Mary, you will wait, +as well."</p> + +<p>The nurse's room was on the third floor, in a +rear building. Duvall found it, after some slight +difficulty, with the assistance of one of the other +servants.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span>He seemed, on entering the room, to have but +one object in view. He went at once to the mantel, +and, taking from it the two small bottle-shaped +vases which stood upon it, shook them both vigorously. +A faint rattling sound came from the +second. He turned it upside down upon the +palm of his hand, and there tumbled out a +quantity of ashes, and the butts of several +partly smoked cigarettes. With a quiet smile he +replaced them in the vase, and returned to the +library.</p> + +<p>"Mary, you may go now," he said.</p> + +<p>When the woman had gone, he turned to Mr. Stapleton. +"It was Mary Lanahan herself who smoked the cigarette +which I found in the grass," he said.</p> + +<p>"Well, what of it?" The matter seemed to +the banker to be utterly without significance.</p> + +<p>"She had, no doubt, stolen them from Mrs. Stapleton."</p> + +<p>"Very likely. Not a very serious matter, however."</p> + +<p>"No. But the question now arises, Why did she +turn the box over to Valentin, and subsequently +ask him to destroy it?"</p> + +<p>"I cannot imagine."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span>"And why, later, were these cigarettes stolen +from Valentin, as I understand they were?"</p> + +<p>"It's too much for me. What do you make +of it?"</p> + +<p>"I have a theory, Mr. Stapleton; but I cannot +say just what it is—yet. By the way, where is +your man, François, tonight?"</p> + +<p>"He is visiting his people, somewhere in the +suburbs."</p> + +<p>"Ah! Then I would like to search his room, +as well."</p> + +<p>"Go ahead. You will find nothing, I fear. +The police have gone over it with a fine-tooth +comb." He rose. "Come along, I'll go with you."</p> + +<p>The room occupied by the chauffeur was at the +very top of the house, with two windows opening +through the slanting mansard roof. One of +these, Duvall noted, commanded a view over the +houses adjoining toward the north, beyond which +could be seen the Avenue du Bois de Boulogne. +A second window, toward the south, commanded +an extensive view toward Passy.</p> + +<p>Mr. Stapleton, puffing because of the unaccustomed +stairs, sat down upon the bed. "I cannot +imagine what you hope to find here, Duvall," he +grumbled.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span>The detective made no reply, but began a systematic +inspection of the room. One of the first +objects which attracted his attention was an ordinary +electric searchlight, of the pocket variety, +lying on the man's dresser. He picked it up, and +examined it carefully.</p> + +<p>"I got it for François," observed Mr. Stapleton, +"so that he could examine the car, at night, +in case of any accident or repair."</p> + +<p>"Of course. Very useful, too. But why, I +wonder, does he keep it here in his room, instead +of in the garage?"</p> + +<p>"Possibly to light himself up the stairs, at +night," said Stapleton.</p> + +<p>"Then I should think he would have it with +him," remarked Duvall, dryly. "Wouldn't be +of much use to him tonight, for instance." He +was about to put the thing down, when his attention +was attracted by two objects, hanging one +on each side of the dresser, from its two uprights. +They were apparently Christmas tree ornaments, +made of thin glass, and they hung from the back +of the dresser by means of two bits of ribbon.</p> + +<p>They seemed at first glance to be merely souvenirs +of some party, some entertainment, which +the chauffeur had preserved as mementos of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> +occasion. They were shaped like little cups, with +a paper fringe about the top, to which the gay ribbons +were attached. Duvall had seen such ornaments +often before, at Christmas time. They were +intended to be hung from the tree by their ribbons, +and were filled with small candies or bonbons. +He had almost passed them by, when something +in their colors caused him to pause. One was a +deep blue, the other an equally deep red. He +examined the wooden uprights of the dresser +with great care. All along the top of the dresser +at its back was a heavy coating of dust. The top +of the uprights, over which the loops of ribbon +which supported the little baskets had been +passed, contained no dust whatever.</p> + +<p>Evidently the baskets had been taken down, +and that too quite recently. For what purpose? +he wondered. Suddenly he had an inspiration. +He took down the little blue basket, and quickly +placed it over the end of the searchlight. It +fitted perfectly, the paper collar at its top holding +the glass hemisphere snugly in place.</p> + +<p>Mr. Stapleton was watching Duvall without +particular interest. Suddenly the detective pointed +the searchlight toward him and pressed the button +which threw on the current. Mr. Stapleton<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> +started back, as his face was flooded with a beam +of brilliant blue light.</p> + +<p>Duvall replaced the little basket in the same +position in which he had found it, and laid the +searchlight upon the dresser. "Rather neat, +isn't it?" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"What do you make of it?" asked the banker.</p> + +<p>"Your man François evidently is in the habit +of making signals," the detective replied, laughing. +He was beginning to feel hopeful. The +search of the two rooms was bearing fruit.</p> + +<p>For the next half-hour, Duvall went over the +contents of the chauffeur's room with the utmost +care. He removed and replaced, just as he found +them, the contents of the dresser drawers. He +opened a small wooden trunk which stood at one +side of the room, and examined its contents minutely. +He explored the closet, looked behind the +pictures, sounded the walls. Nothing further of +an unusual nature rewarded his efforts. Still he +seemed unsatisfied.</p> + +<p>"What more can you hope to find, Mr. Duvall?" +inquired the banker, who had begun to +find the proceedings tiresome.</p> + +<p>The detective stood in the center of the room, +and glanced about in some perplexity. "I had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> +hoped to find one thing more," he said; "but +I am afraid it isn't here."</p> + +<p>Suddenly he strode over to the mantel, upon +which stood a small nickel-plated alarm clock of +American make.</p> + +<p>"This clock doesn't seem to be going," he remarked, +then whipped out his magnifying glass +and carefully studied the brass handle which projected +from the back, by which it was wound up. +"It hasn't been wound for several days, either. +The back is covered with dust." He picked up +the clock and tried to wind it; but the handle resisted +his efforts.</p> + +<p>In an instant he took out his knife, and a moment +later was removing the screws which held +the metal back of the clock in place.</p> + +<p>Mr. Stapleton watched him curiously. Duvall's +methods savored, to him, of the accepted sleuth +of fiction. He took little stock in the tiny clues +upon which the whole modern science of criminology +is built.</p> + +<p>In a few moments the detective had removed +the screws and lifted out the rear plate of the +clock. As he did so, he gave a grunt of satisfaction. +A small pasteboard box fell out upon +the mantel.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span>"What is it?" asked Stapleton.</p> + +<p>"The box of cigarettes," remarked Duvall, as +he opened it. "There are three missing. I shall +take a fourth." He selected one of the paper-covered +tubes, placed it within his pocketbook, +then thrust the box back into the clock, and rapidly +replaced the metal plate.</p> + +<p>"I don't think there is anything further to be +done here, Mr. Stapleton," he remarked. "I +think I'll be getting along to my room. Tomorrow +I shall be quite busy."</p> + +<p>He stopped for a moment, on his way out, to +glance from the window which faced toward the +north. Between the buildings and trees ran the +Avenue du Bois de Boulogne, its course illuminated +by many street lamps, and the flashing lights +of passing motor cars. Duvall gazed intently at +the scene before him for a few moments, then +turned to the door, and, accompanied by Mr. +Stapleton, descended the stairs.</p> + +<p>As he was about to leave the house, the banker, +who evidently had something on his mind, stopped +him.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Duvall," he said, earnestly, "I would +like very much to know what you intend to +do."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span>"I'm going to catch these fellows, if I possibly +can," the detective replied, earnestly.</p> + +<p>"What steps do you propose to take?"</p> + +<p>"I cannot exactly say—yet. Why do you +ask?"</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you. The fellow who was here tonight, +the one with the black beard, is coming to +see me tomorrow night, at eight o'clock. I cannot +tell you more than that. I did not intend to +tell you that much—but I am obliged to do so."</p> + +<p>"Obliged! Why?"</p> + +<p>"Because I want your promise that you will +make no attempt to stop him. If I had said nothing, +you might have watched the house, and, upon +recognizing the fellow as the one who was here +tonight, have placed him under arrest. I want +you to do nothing to interfere with either his +coming or his going. He will be safe, after he +once leaves the Arc de Triomphe in his automobile."</p> + +<p>"But the police?"</p> + +<p>"They know nothing of the matter. Miss Goncourt +has given me her word to remain silent. +She has even agreed to have the men on watch +about the house withdrawn. Both you and the +police may do your best to catch this man, after<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> +I have carried out my compact with him; but until +then I want you to keep your hands off."</p> + +<p>Duvall was silent for a moment. "Very well, +Mr. Stapleton, I shall do as you say. In fact, +to assure you that I am carrying out your wishes, +I will agree to remain here with you, at the +house, throughout the evening."</p> + +<p>"Good! I shall expect you. Good night."</p> + +<p>"Good night." Duvall left the house, and went +at once to his hotel.</p> + +<p>Here, a few moments later, he seated himself +in an easy chair, and taking from his pocket the +cigarette which he had secured in the chauffeur's +room, regarded it critically.</p> + +<p>After some little time, he took a match from +a box upon a nearby table, and, placing the gold +tip of the cigarette between his lips, carefully lit +it.</p> + +<p>He drew the smoke into his lungs, inhaling it +deeply. Once—twice—three times he repeated +the operation, then threw himself back into his +chair, and, closing his eyes, sat buried in thought. +In his preoccupation, he allowed the end of the +cigarette to fall unheeded to the floor.</p> + +<p>After many minutes he opened his eyes and +started up. "I've got it!" he cried, and, picking<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> +up the half-burned cigarette from the floor, threw +it carelessly into the fireplace.</p> + +<p>Then he sat down at his table, drew out a +sheet of paper and a map of the city of Paris, +and began to make a series of drawings and calculations +that occupied him far into the night.</p> + +<hr class="r15" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<p class="cap extraspacetop">IT was nearly ten o'clock when the taxicab +containing Grace Duvall stopped alongside +the road, at a point some four miles beyond +the city, in the direction of Versailles. She had +been unable to give the driver the exact location +at which she desired to be put down, but had +directed him to drive on until she told him to +stop.</p> + +<p>The spot was quite familiar to her, owing to +the hours she had spent in the vicinity with the +searching party the day before.</p> + +<p>The taxicab driver seemed rather surprised to +see her alight at this somewhat lonely spot; but +he shrugged his shoulders with true Parisian indifference, +pocketed the tip she gave him, and +drove rapidly off in the darkness.</p> + +<p>Left to herself by the roadside, Grace began +to fear that she had, after all, done a rather +foolish thing. Now that she was here, she hardly +knew how to begin.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span>All about her she saw the dark outlines of +cottages among the trees, with here and there a +straggling light which betokened some household +late in getting to bed. The country people in +this vicinity—growers of flowers and vegetables +or dairymen for the most part—were asleep with +their cows about the time that Paris began to +dine.</p> + +<p>Occasionally the silence about her was broken +by the mournful howling of a dog; but otherwise +all was still.</p> + +<p>The night was cloudless, and the lightening of +the sky toward the east told her that before long +a moon would rise above the trees.</p> + +<p>Near the road she found a little rustic bench, +and upon this she sat down to think.</p> + +<p>The howling of the dog had suggested to her +mind a possible clue to the house within which +Mr. Stapleton's boy had been, for a time at least, +confined. She could remember nothing of the +garden, and but little of the room in which she +had been confined; but the dog, playing upon the +grass with the child, had fixed itself in her memory. +She recollected distinctly that he was a +poodle, mostly black, with fine curling hair, like +astrakhan fur, and a pointed nose.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span>There were many dogs of this sort, she well +knew, and yet there was one peculiarity which +had impressed itself upon her memory, which +would inevitably serve to identify this particular +dog, should she ever see him again. His long +and bushy tail, black for the most part like the +rest of his body, terminated in a plume of white +hair.</p> + +<p>It was a most unusual marking in a French +poodle. She had never seen it before, and she +was a great lover of dogs, and knew them thoroughly. +It was this fact, no doubt, which had +caused her to notice the animal, at a time when +her mind was filled with matters of vastly greater +importance.</p> + +<p>She had sought carefully for such a dog, on +the occasion of the previous search, but had not +found him. The tale about the escaped cobra +had caused the country folk to lock up their pets +without loss of time.</p> + +<p>Now she hoped to find this dog, and through +him discover the location of the house in which +she had been confined. After that—well, she +would do the best she could.</p> + +<p>It occurred to her that she was not at all +likely to discover the whereabouts of the black<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> +poodle by sitting here on a bench; yet she dared +not start out until the moon had risen sufficiently +high to light up her way.</p> + +<p>In about an hour, the rim of the golden disk +showed itself above the treetops, and a little +later the black shadows about her began to grow +luminous, and resolve themselves into white-walled +cottages, hedges, and outbuildings of various +sorts.</p> + +<p>A narrow lane ran off from the main road, +bordered on each side by lindens and poplars.</p> + +<p>Along this lane the houses of the little hamlet +were set, some near the road, others quite a distance +back. She rose, and began to walk slowly +along the lane.</p> + +<p>As she had expected, dogs of various sorts and +sizes, to judge by their voices, began barking as +soon as she came opposite the first house. A +small fox terrier ran through the gateway of a +garden, yelping sharply. The deep-toned baying +of a hound sounded farther up the street. +A small white poodle, and a black one of the +same size, ran after her, as she went along, +making friendly attempts to play. The one she +sought, however, seemed nowhere in evidence.</p> + +<p>The lane ascended a gently sloping hill, at the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> +top of which stood a house, somewhat larger +than the others, whose outbuildings and pastures +proclaimed it to be a dairy farm. There was a +hedge of roses along the roadside, and a little +wooden gate.</p> + +<p>Grace heard a sharp bark on the other side +of the gate as she passed it, and, stopping, glanced +over. In the shadow stood a black poodle; but +whether his tail showed the markings for which +she sought she was unable to tell on account of +the darkness. She gave the gate a gentle push, +and it slowly opened. The dog ran out into the +road. As he crossed a patch of moonlight, she +saw that her search was ended. This, she was +convinced, was the dog—and the house!</p> + +<p>Her next problem was how to get inside. Try +as she would, she could think of no excuse which +would adequately account for her presence in this +little frequented locality at such a time of night. +That the occupants of the house had long ago +retired was evidenced by the blackness of the +windows, the silence which brooded over the +whole place.</p> + +<p>She looked about her. Just across the lane +from the little gate a building loomed formless +against a shadowy clump of trees. She went over<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> +to it, and found that it was a small shed. The +door stood open. Inside stood a tumbledown old +wagon, dust covered, and quite evidently unused +for a long time. The shelter of the shed seemed +grateful—as though she had arrived somewhere, +instead of being a wanderer in the night.</p> + +<p>There seemed nothing to do, now, but wait for +daylight. She climbed into the creaking wagon +and sat upon the seat. There was a back to it, +which, like the seat, was covered with old and +torn velveteen. She leaned back in the shadow +and closed her eyes. Her walk, the night air, +had made her tired. In the distance she +heard, after a long time, the faint booming +of a bell. She looked at her watch. It was midnight.</p> + +<p>The next thing that Grace remembered was the +loud barking of a dog. She sat up, feeling stiff +and cold. Her neck and left shoulder ached painfully. +A glance through the open door of the +shed told her that it was still night; but there was +a gray radiance in the air, a soft pale light, that +betokened the coming of dawn.</p> + +<p>She crept stiffly down from the wagon, and +again consulted her watch. It marked the hour +of four. Through a dusty window in the side<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> +of the shed she saw the eastern sky, rose streaked +and bright, heralding the sun.</p> + +<p>As the light increased, she saw the dog that +had disturbed her sleep running about on the +grass in front of the house opposite. The house +seemed much nearer, in the daylight, than it had +appeared at night. She examined the dog closely. +The white tip of his tail, waving gaily in the morning +light, showed her that it was the one she had +sought.</p> + +<p>She crouched in the dim shadow of the half-open +door and watched the scene before her. +There was a man, moving about among the small +buildings to the right. She heard him performing +some task—she could not at first make out +what. Presently the lowing of cattle, the rattle +of a bucket, as it was drawn up by a creaking +windlass, told her that the man was tending his +cows.</p> + +<p>Quite half an hour later she saw him going +toward the house, a pail, evidently well filled, in +each hand.</p> + +<p>Then ensued another long silence. The curling +wisp of smoke from the chimney of the cottage +indicated breakfast, and Grace suddenly +realized that she felt cold, and hungry. For the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> +first time in her life she realized how important +one's breakfast is, in beginning the day.</p> + +<p>Presently the man reappeared and went toward +a small building which Grace took to be the barn. +She could see him clearly now; for the sun had +risen above the trees and lit up the whole scene +brilliantly. He was a small, wizened man, with +gray hair and a slight stoop. She was quite certain +that she had never seen him before.</p> + +<p>He went to the barn, and she saw that he was +engaged in harnessing a horse, which he presently +attached to a farm wagon. She noted the wagon +particularly. It was a low two-wheeled affair, +with a dingy canvas top. A large patch in the +canvas showed yellow-white in the sunlight. The +horse was white.</p> + +<p>In a little while the man began to put in the +cart a variety of objects which he brought from +the barn. They appeared to be baskets of vegetables +or fruit, and cans of milk. Presently he +stopped, and went toward the house. In a few +minutes he returned. This time a woman was +with him. They carried between them a large +wicker basket, which appeared to be quite heavy. +There was a top on the basket. Grace wondered +if it could be filled with laundry.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span>The couple placed the basket in the wagon, +putting it in from the front, so that it occupied +a position close beside the driver. In getting it +up over the wheel the woman let her end of it +slip, and the man cursed her with such sudden +sharpness that Grace was startled and crouched +back into the shed. She wondered what the +basket could contain, that made the man so careful, +and the thought came to her, might it not +be Mr. Stapleton's boy?</p> + +<p>The idea possessed her completely. As the +man drove out into the lane, and rattled down +the hill toward the main road, she suddenly realized +that she must follow; yet how could she +hope to do so, on foot? The woman had gone +back into the house. Regardless of consequences, +Grace ran out into the lane, and after the wagon +at full speed.</p> + +<p>When she reached the main road the vehicle +had already turned into it and was some distance +away, headed for Paris, at a speed which, slow +for a horse, was still much faster than she could +possibly walk.</p> + +<p>She looked up and down the road helplessly. +There were several other wagons approaching, +all going in the same direction—cityward. She<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span> +realized that they were country people, farmers, +taking their vegetables and flowers to the markets.</p> + +<p>The first one to reach her was driven by a +buxom-looking young woman, wearing a plaid +shawl. Grace hailed her. "Will you be so good, +Madame, as to take me to Paris?"</p> + +<p>The woman glanced at her shrewdly. "I have +a heavy load, Mademoiselle," she replied. Her +voice was cold, uninterested.</p> + +<p>"I will pay you five francs—"</p> + +<p>The words had barely left Grace's lips, before +the woman had pulled up her horse. "Five +francs, Mademoiselle? That is another matter. +Get in."</p> + +<p>Grace clambered up beside the woman and +glanced down the road ahead. The canvas-covered +wagon was still in sight—mounting a hill +some three or four hundred yards ahead.</p> + +<p>The woman looked at her curiously, noting +her dress, her hands, her shoes. "You are not +of the country, Mademoiselle," she remarked, +pleasantly.</p> + +<p>"No. I belong in Paris." She turned to her +companion. "I should like to return there as +quickly as possible."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span>"My Susette does not care to go above a walk," +the woman remarked, gazing at her horse, plodding +along with mechanical steps, as though utterly +unconcerned as to whether or not they ever +reached Paris. The wagon ahead was now out +of sight, over the brow of the hill.</p> + +<p>"Would you like to make a louis?" Grace +took a gold piece from her purse and held it in +the sunlight. It glistened brightly.</p> + +<p>The woman drew back, regarding her companion +suspiciously. "A louis? Who would not? +What do you mean, Mademoiselle?"</p> + +<p>"There is a wagon ahead of us, a canvas-covered +wagon, with a white horse. I am following +it. If you will keep that wagon in sight until +we get to Paris, I will give you this louis."</p> + +<p>She turned the gold piece about, making it +sparkle in the sun. The woman glanced first +at her face, then more carefully at the coin, then, +reaching over, took it in her fingers, and raised +it to her mouth. Grace wondered what she was +about to do. In a moment she had sunk her teeth +into it, then returned it to her companion. "It +shall be as you say, Mademoiselle," she exclaimed +as she pulled in the reins. "Allons, Susette!"</p> + +<p>The horse, evidently awakened from his morning<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> +dreams, started forward with a suddenness +which almost precipitated Grace from her seat. +The trees along the roadside began to fly past +them. In ten minutes they were close behind +the canvas-covered wagon, now moving along at +a brisk pace.</p> + +<p>When they reached the fortifications, the two +wagons were separated by not more than a dozen +feet. Grace's companion glanced at her sharply. +"From here I go to Grennelle, Mademoiselle," +she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Grace looked at the wagon ahead. "Follow +it, please," she said. "I will give you another +five francs."</p> + +<p>The woman obeyed in silence. The wagon in +front of them headed off toward the northwest, +going in the direction of Passy. Before a great +while it crossed the Pont de Passy, turned into +the Rue Nicolo, and came to a stop before a +small brick house, standing in a little garden.</p> + +<p>Grace jumped down at the corner, after giving +the woman the louis and the additional five francs. +"Thank you," she said, and started slowly up the +street.</p> + +<p>The wagon with the canvas cover stood quietly +alongside the curb. The old man who drove it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> +had approached the door of the house, and was +ringing the bell.</p> + +<p>Presently one of the windows on the top floor +was thrown open, and a man's head was thrust +out. Grace could not see his face clearly. He +looked down at the man at the door, who at the +same time looked up. The window was instantly +closed, and a few moments later the door of the +house opened and the man came out.</p> + +<p>He stood talking with the driver in low tones +for a few moments. Grace had walked on up +the street, fearing to attract attention. Looking +back, she saw that the two men were gazing after +her. She dared not turn her head again, but at +the next corner turned into a cross street. Then +she stopped, and cautiously peered around the +corner. The two men had gone to the wagon +and were lifting out the large basket. A few +moments later they disappeared with it into the +house.</p> + +<p>After a time, the old man returned with the +basket in his hands. From the way he carried it +Grace could see that it was empty. He tossed +it carelessly into the wagon, mounted the seat, +and drove off.</p> + +<p>Grace looked at her watch. It was half past<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> +seven. She felt cold and hungry, and determined +to get something to eat at once. A little pastry +cook's shop and restaurant on the opposite side +of the street attracted her attention, and she +crossed over, entered, and ordered rolls and coffee. +She could see the windows of the house into +which the two men had carried the basket, from +where she sat.</p> + +<p>She scarcely knew what to do next. It seemed +almost certain that Mr. Stapleton's child was in +the house across the way, and yet—it was merely +an intuition, a guess, which might turn out to +be entirely wrong. Yet she feared to go away, +not knowing at what moment the child, if he was +indeed there, might be taken elsewhere, and the +clue hopelessly lost.</p> + +<p>She finished her rolls and coffee, taking as +much time to consume them as she could. She +had just made up her mind to go, when the door +of the house across the street opened, and a man +came out. He was dark, and heavily built, and +dressed in the costume affected by artists. He +headed directly for the pastry shop, and Grace +realized that he was about to enter it.</p> + +<p>She turned her face away, fearing lest he might +have noticed her, as she walked up the street.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> +He did not even glance in her direction, however, +but went at once to a counter at the rear of the +place.</p> + +<p>The proprietor came up to him with a smile, +rubbing his hands together cheerily. "Ah! +Monsieur Durand. Up early this morning, I +see. What can I do for you?"</p> + +<p>She did not catch the other's reply, nor did she +dare to glance at his face. She shrank back into +her corner, and, picking up a newspaper which +lay in the window sill, began to read.</p> + +<p>The new customer remained but a few moments. +When he left, Grace saw that he carried +a large paper bag with him, which appeared to +contain rolls or bread.</p> + +<p>He again entered the house, but this time remained +inside but a few moments. A little later +she left the shop, and watched him as he disappeared +down the street.</p> + +<p>For half an hour she walked about, wondering +whether she should telephone Monsieur Lefevre +now, or wait until she had made certain that the +whole affair was, after all, not a wild goose chase. +Suddenly she was seized with a new determination. +She went boldly up to the house, and rang +the bell.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span>In a few moments a sleepy-looking maid +opened the door, eying Grace with lazy indifference.</p> + +<p>"I wish to see Monsieur Durand," the latter +said.</p> + +<p>"He's out."</p> + +<p>"Then I must wait. I am a model. He instructed +me to come at eight o'clock, and to wait +until he returned."</p> + +<p>The girl shrugged her shoulders, and pointed +to the stairs. "Top floor front," she grumbled, +and turned away.</p> + +<p>Grace lost no time in getting up the stairs. To +her surprise, the door of the studio, upon which +was a card bearing Monsieur Durand's name, was +unlocked. She pushed her way boldly in, and +looked about. The room was scantily furnished, +and contained little besides a couple of modeling +stands, several large plaster figures and casts, two +chairs, and a couch, evidently used as a bed. At +the rear of the room was a closet. She turned +to it and threw it open. It contained only an +assortment of clothes.</p> + +<p>She felt completely baffled. There was no possible +place, here, in which the child she was seeking +could be hidden. Evidently she had been on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> +the wrong track. And yet—what had the wicker +basket contained?</p> + +<p>Suddenly she stopped, quivering with excitement. +From somewhere in the room—she could +not tell where—there came a low sobbing sound, +as of a child, crying to itself. It vibrated throughout +the room, at one moment close to her ears, +the next far off, intangible, like a whispered +echo. She stood, listening, every nerve tense with +excitement, and still that low sobbing went on, +coming from nowhere, evanescent as a dream.</p> + +<p>The thing seemed unreal, horrifying. She +gazed about helpless. Then she heard the front +door of the house suddenly slam, followed by the +sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs.</p> + +<hr class="r15" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV.</h2> + +<p class="cap extraspacetop">RICHARD DUVALL rose, the following +day, with a less troubled mind than at +any time since his arrival in Paris.</p> + +<p>His calculations of the night before had +brought him to a definite conclusion.</p> + +<p>After breakfasting in the café of the hotel he +returned to his room, and rang up Monsieur +Lefevre.</p> + +<p>"I want the assistance of one of your men, +Monsieur," he said.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" laughed the Prefect. "You are—what +you Americans call—up a tree, is it not?"</p> + +<p>"Not at all. You have said that there existed +between us a competition, to recover Mr. Stapleton's +child. I think I am going to win. But since +I am not in a position to make the necessary arrests, +myself, I am going to share the glory with +you, my dear friend, by allowing one of your +men to do so for me."</p> + +<p>"So you are confident?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span>"Reasonably so. Can you spare Vernet for the +day? He is a good man."</p> + +<p>"One of my best. You shall have him. And +if you succeed, I shall still regard myself the +loser, and will buy the champagne, and the dinner +at the Café Royale, as I agreed."</p> + +<p>"And I shall be most happy to do the same +should I fail. Oblige me by requesting Vernet +to come to my rooms at the hotel at once. Good +by."</p> + +<p>Duvall hung up the receiver, and sat down with +the drawings he had made before him. He +awaited the coming of Vernet with impatience.</p> + +<p>The latter appeared in some twenty minutes.</p> + +<p>"What can I do for you, Monsieur Duvall?" +he asked.</p> + +<p>"Good morning, Vernet. Sit down, and have +a cigar. I have a little matter I wish to talk over +with you."</p> + +<p>"Concerning the missing child of Monsieur +Stapleton, I understand," remarked Vernet, as he +lit a cigar and drew his chair up to the table. +He glanced at the drawings before him. "What +are these, may I ask?"</p> + +<p>Duvall took up his pencil. "This, Vernet, is a +map of a small part of Paris. Here, as you see,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> +is the Avenue Kleber, terminating at the Champs +Élysées just in front of the Arc de Triomphe."</p> + +<p>"I see. It is quite plain."</p> + +<p>"Here—this black square—is Mr. Stapleton's +house. From there to the arch is a matter of +some six hundred yards."</p> + +<p>"About that, I should say. What of it?"</p> + +<p>"Wait. The black-bearded fellow—the kidnapper—who +visited Mr. Stapleton last night, +and escaped by the ruse of being arrested by one +of his confederates, will arrive at Mr. Stapleton's +house at eight o'clock tonight."</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! If that is so, we have him!"</p> + +<p>"Not so fast. We shall not interfere with him—then."</p> + +<p>"But, Monsieur, would you let this fellow escape? +It is my duty to arrest him, as soon as he +puts in an appearance."</p> + +<p>"You are mistaken, Vernet. Your duty is to +do as I instruct you. Monsieur Lefevre has +placed you under my orders for the day."</p> + +<p>Vernet laughed. "That is so," he said. +"What do you wish me to do?"</p> + +<p>"The man will come to Mr. Stapleton's house +at eight o'clock, and will be given a large sum +of money. He has agreed, if he is not interfered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> +with, to have the address where the boy may be +found telephoned to Mr. Stapleton within half +an hour."</p> + +<p>"Ah! Then we shall follow, and get him after +he has telephoned."</p> + +<p>Duvall laughed. "We are dealing with a far +shrewder man than that, Vernet. This fellow will +do no telephoning."</p> + +<p>"Then how will he let Monsieur Stapleton +know?"</p> + +<p>"That is just what I am trying to find out. Put +yourself in his place. He is known—he dare not +remain in Paris—he gets five hundred thousand +francs to give up the child. Is it not natural to +suppose that he will leave the city at once?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. That is what I should do, in his place."</p> + +<p>"Of course. Now I understand that the fellow +will walk from Mr. Stapleton's house to the Arc +de Triomphe, a distance of six hundred yards. +He can do that easily in ten minutes."</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Once at the arch, he will stand awaiting a +fast automobile, which will come along the +Champs Élysées. This automobile will stop for +an instant and pick him up, then proceed at high +speed along the Avenue du Bois de Boulogne."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span>"Why do you think that?"</p> + +<p>"Because it will afford him the quickest and +safest road out of Paris. From the arch to the +Porte Dauphine is less than a mile. He can make +it in five minutes. In fifteen minutes altogether +then, he is outside the walls. In another fifteen +minutes, he is beyond pursuit, in the country."</p> + +<p>"But you forget, Monsieur Duvall, that he has +not yet advised his confederates that all is well, +and that the address of the place where the boy +is hidden is to be telephoned to Mr. Stapleton."</p> + +<p>"No, Vernet, I haven't forgotten that. In +fact, I am coming to it now. Suppose you +were in this fellow's place—how would you do +it?"</p> + +<p>Vernet scratched his head thoughtfully. "He +might fire a pistol from the car."</p> + +<p>"Too dangerous. The noise of the explosion +would attract attention. He must work +silently."</p> + +<p>"A wave of the hand, perhaps, to someone +along the street."</p> + +<p>"Also dangerous. This fellow realizes that +every possible step will be taken to capture not +only himself, but his confederates. He anticipates, +no doubt, that the road will be carefully<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span> +watched. Why take chances, and run the risk of +his confederates, at least, being arrested, when +there are simpler, easier ways?"</p> + +<p>"Such as what?"</p> + +<p>"Do you not remember the signal, used on the +Versailles road, the blue light?"</p> + +<p>"Ah! Exactly. He will signal to some one +in a house along the way."</p> + +<p>"That would be easier and safer; but you will +remember that there are no houses along the +way—none, at least, in which a man of this sort +could have a confederate hidden. But I should +not say none. There is one, perhaps."</p> + +<p>"Indeed, Monsieur. And what house is that?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Stapleton's. Look!" He drew toward +him the sheet of paper. "Here," he placed the +point of his pencil upon the black square which +indicated the location of the banker's residence, +"is the house. The north window of a room on +the top floor commands a view of the Avenue +du Bois de Boulogne, from a point some 500 feet +west of the Arc de Triomphe, to where it intersects +the Avenue Malakoff. Beyond there, the +view is interrupted. In fact, the trees along the +Avenue du Bois de Boulogne are to some extent +an obstruction; but at the crossing with the Avenue<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> +Malakoff there is a wide and uninterrupted +view."</p> + +<p>"But a confederate in Monsieur Stapleton's +own house?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. The chauffeur, François."</p> + +<p>"You astonish me, Monsieur. We have suspected +the fellow, it is true. The very room of +which you speak has been searched. We found +nothing. How do you know that what you say +is true?"</p> + +<p>"Never mind how I know it—now. The point +is this—François, I fully believe, will be in that +room, tonight, at eight o'clock, watching carefully +the automobiles which pass the intersection of the +Avenue Malakoff—"</p> + +<p>"Not necessarily, Monsieur. We can easily +prevent it, by placing him under arrest."</p> + +<p>"That is exactly what we must <i>not</i> do. Don't +you see, it is absolutely necessary, for the recovery +of Mr. Stapleton's child, that the signals +go through uninterrupted?"</p> + +<p>"Of course, I had forgotten that. And these +signals?"</p> + +<p>"Naturally I cannot tell—yet. I think, however, +that the automobile for which François will +be looking will show a brilliant blue light, while<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> +crossing the Avenue Malakoff. That is, of +course, if our friend the kidnapper gets safely +away, without being pursued."</p> + +<p>"And otherwise?"</p> + +<p>"I think the light would be red. He can make +either, very simply, by means of a powerful electric +searchlight—one of these pocket affairs, you +know, fitted with colored glasses."</p> + +<p>"You interest me wonderfully, Monsieur Duvall. +What next?"</p> + +<p>"It is, of course, most important that the signal +given shall be the correct one. There must be +no interference whatever with this fellow's escape—<i>up +to that point</i>."</p> + +<p>"Ah—I begin to see. And what after that?"</p> + +<p>"First, let us continue with François. He will, +I think, return a blue signal to the man in the +automobile, to show that he has seen, and understood. +He has the means to do so all ready, in +his room."</p> + +<p>"And then?"</p> + +<p>"He will make, I think, a similar signal from +his south window to some one who is on watch, +in the direction of Passy. This second person, who +no doubt has the child in his care, will then go +to a telephone, transmit the address of the house<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> +where the child is hidden, to Mr. Stapleton, and +quietly depart, to join his confederate in—say—Brussels. +He will run not the slightest risk of +capture. If, on the other hand, that message +fails to go through, the address will <i>not</i> +be telephoned, and the child will probably be +killed."</p> + +<p>Vernet frowned grimly. "It is a remarkable +plan, Monsieur. These fellows are no bunglers. +I think, however, that we shall be able to stop +them."</p> + +<p>"How?"</p> + +<p>"I will station myself at the Porte Dauphine +with a fast automobile, a racer. When these fellows +pass, I will follow them, and overtake +them."</p> + +<p>"An excellent idea, Vernet; but how, may I +ask, will you know the car, when it passes you? +There are hundreds of cars on the Avenue du +Bois de Boulogne, at eight o'clock in the evening."</p> + +<p>Vernet laughed. "I confess, Monsieur, you +have me there."</p> + +<p>"Of course you might station a man at the intersection +of the Avenue Malakoff and the Avenue +du Bois de Boulogne; but I do not think he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> +would be able to see the signal. By placing on +the end of the searchlight a paper tube, the light +would be invisible except in the direction in +which it is pointed—and that, you will remember, +is diagonally upward. A man on the sidewalk +would not see it at all."</p> + +<p>"Then, Monsieur, I fail to see that there is +anything we can do."</p> + +<p>"There is one thing, Vernet. You forget the +answering signal, from the window."</p> + +<p>The Frenchman looked at his companion with +undisguised admiration. "Sacré!" he exclaimed. +"You have a mind, Monsieur Duvall, in a thousand."</p> + +<p>"Thanks," answered Duvall, dryly. "Now, my +idea is, to have you select some point near the +intersection of the two avenues, from which the +window in the rear of Mr. Stapleton's house can +be clearly seen. Station yourself there, tonight, +with the fastest automobile you can secure. Let +one man watch the window, another the vehicles +passing in the Avenue du Bois de Boulogne. The +moment you see the blue light, start after your +man. He should be just across the intersection, +on his way down the Avenue du Bois de Boulogne."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span>Vernet rubbed his hands together with satisfaction. +"We shall get him—never fear."</p> + +<p>"Of course," said Duvall, slowly, "all this is +pure assumption on my part, based upon what I +have discovered in the chauffeur's room. It may +not turn out as I say, but the chances are fifty to +one that it will."</p> + +<p>"And you, Monsieur? Where will you be?"</p> + +<p>"I shall be in the room, with François. I do +not propose that <i>he</i> shall escape. And further—I +do not know that I am correct, in my assumption +regarding his signals to Passy. He may go out, +and send the telephone message himself. In that +case, I shall follow. Or he may, through some +unforeseen accident, get the wrong signal, in +which case I propose to overpower him, and give +the right one. Suppose we go, now, and take a +look at the intersection of the Avenue Malakoff +and the Avenue du Bois de Boulogne, and see +what arrangements can best be made. Also, if +Mr. Stapleton is out in his car, we may be able +to take a few observations from his chauffeur's +window." He took up his hat, lighted a cigar, +and led the way to the door.</p> + +<p>They drove to the Arc de Triomphe in a cab, +and, after dismissing it, walked slowly down the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> +Avenue du Bois de Boulogne. At the intersection +with the Avenue Malakoff they stopped and gazed +about carefully, although in such a way as not +to attract attention. A brief inspection served +to confirm all that Duvall had said. It took them +some little time to locate the window in the rear +of Mr. Stapleton's house; but after a time they +managed to do so, and saw that it commanded +an uninterrupted view of the point where they +stood.</p> + +<p>Vernet was highly satisfied, as they parted. It +was deemed unnecessary for him to visit the +chauffeur's room, and thereby run the risk of their +being seen entering the banker's house together. +Vernet departed to make his arrangements for +the evening, strictly cautioned by his companion +not to let Monsieur Lefevre into his secret. "It +is a bet," he told Vernet. "I hope we shall succeed +in winning it."</p> + +<p>After his companion had departed, Duvall +dropped in to see Mr. Stapleton. He learned +that the banker was out, driving in the Bois with +Mrs. Stapleton, who, overcome by anxiety and +grief, had great need of the fresh air to retain +her health. She was fast breaking down under +the strain.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span>Duvall went up to have another look at the +chauffeur's room. He had been unable to get +a thoroughly clear idea of the view from the +window, the night before, owing to the darkness.</p> + +<p>He found everything as he had left it,—the +searchlight on the dresser, the colored glass ornaments +hanging from their gay ribbons. The +north window overlooked with perfect clearness +the intersection of the two avenues, as he and +Vernet had seen them from below. The other +window presented a more distant view. Nearby +roofs and chimneys obstructed it in part; but between +them could be seen the villas and buildings +in Passy, smiling in the sunlight. The sight impressed +Duvall the more strongly with the cleverness +of the men he sought to arrest. Somewhere +in all that maze of buildings, that wide vista +of houses and trees and distant fields, Mr. Stapleton's +child lay concealed, and it needed but a +flash of light from this window to set him free. +Passing his fingers idly along the window sill, +Duvall suddenly observed two parallel scratches +in the white paint, which had apparently been +made with the point of a knife. He knelt down, +and sighted between them. His line of vision<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> +swept clear of the nearby roofs and chimneys, +toward Passy.</p> + +<p>The detective turned from the window, a smile +of satisfaction on his face, and proceeded to make +a careful examination of the chauffeur's closet. +It was here that he intended to lie hidden. He +felt certain that, in order the better to perceive +and send his signals, as well as to escape detection +from below, the chauffeur would allow his room to +remain unlighted.</p> + +<p>This, Duvall reasoned, would render it easy +for him to lie concealed until the signal which +would insure the safe return of the lost child had +been given, after which he would call upon +François with precision and despatch. Should +anything occur to prevent the chauffeur from giving +the favorable signal, he proposed to give it +himself.</p> + +<p>The closet was close to the north window, and +its door opened in such a way that Duvall saw at +once that in the darkened room he could readily +open it sufficiently to see all that François did, +without running any serious risk of detection.</p> + +<p>He left the house at a little after noon and +stopped in at a well known restaurant on the +Boulevard des Italiens for lunch. He felt very<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> +well satisfied with the course that events were +taking. If only he could get through with this +thing, and get back to Grace, and the farm, he +would be supremely happy. He became so absorbed +in his thoughts that he failed to notice a +gentleman who slipped quietly into the chair opposite +him, until the latter leaned over and +touched his arm.</p> + +<p>He looked up suddenly. It was Monsieur +Lefevre!</p> + +<hr class="r15" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<p class="cap extraspacetop">THE few seconds that elapsed while Grace +Duvall stood in the deserted studio in +Passy, waiting for the arrival of the person +who was ascending the stairs, seemed like +eternities, so crowded were they with terror.</p> + +<p>What should she do—what, indeed, could she +do? A dozen plans raced madly through her +brain, confusing her, baffling her with their +futility.</p> + +<p>That the missing boy was within the sound of +her voice, she knew; for even as she stood trembling +at the ominous footsteps on the creaking +stairs, she could hear the low troubled childish +moaning, coming apparently from the very air +in front of her, yet affording not the slightest +clue as to the boy's whereabouts.</p> + +<p>She glanced about the room in desperation. +Nearer and nearer came the creaking footfalls +on the stairs. She dared not leave the room now, +and thereby meet the approaching man face to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> +face on the landing; yet to remain where she was +would result only in her being obliged to make +some lame and halting excuse for her presence, +and go, as soon as the man entered the room.</p> + +<p>Even this she could not count upon. The fellow, +no doubt a desperate and unscrupulous ruffian, +might attack her, might detain her a prisoner +until the child had been safely removed to +another place, beyond all hope of discovery. All +the work of the past twelve hours would come to +nothing. And even should he let her go, in +safety, he could not fail to suspect the reasons +for her presence and warn his companions.</p> + +<p>Clearly the only thing to do was to remain in +the room, in hiding. There was but one place +in which she could hope to escape instant detection—the +closet. Yet even this promised but temporary +safety; the man would be almost certain +to open it, for some reason or other, and discover +her presence.</p> + +<p>It was her only chance, however, and she took +it. Even as the footsteps of the approaching +man sounded upon the landing outside, Grace +flew across the room and into the closet, closing +the door softly behind her. In her haste, one +arm of a velveteen coat which hung upon a hook,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span> +became jammed in the door, with the result that +it would not entirely close. She realized that it +was too late to remedy the trouble now, and +crouched back trembling with excitement.</p> + +<p>The jamming of the door had caused it to remain +slightly open, with a space half an inch +broad between it and the casing. Through this, +Grace could see a part of the room before her. +She watched the door to the hallway intently, as +it was thrown open.</p> + +<p>The man she had seen in the pastry shop came +in, several packages in his hands. These he +placed upon a table, and at once began to prepare +breakfast. A small alcohol lamp served for +coffee, and butter, rolls, and fruit he produced +from the paper bags before him. There was +also a bottle of milk. Grace wondered if this +was intended for the child.</p> + +<p>The man went about his preparations silently. +Grace occasionally obtained a good view of his +face. He was apparently about thirty years of +age, dark and swarthy. There was something familiar +about his manner, his general appearance; +although what it was, she could not tell. She was +certain, however, that she had seen him before.</p> + +<p>Once or twice he made a move, as though<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> +to approach the closet; but each time it +was something else that claimed his attention. +Once it was to get a package of cigarettes that +lay upon one of the modeling stands. Grace wondered +what she would have done, had he kept on +toward her, and opened the closet door.</p> + +<p>She fell to thinking, in momentary snatches, +about home, and Richard. How curious it seemed +for them both to be here in Paris, separated for +all these days, yet so near each other! She wondered +if Richard had written to her, and what +he would think, not to have heard from her. +Then she remembered that after all he had been +in Paris but a few days—there was scarcely time +for a letter to have reached him. She thought +of Uncle Abe, pottering about among the flower +beds, of Aunt Lucy grumbling good naturedly +over her wash tubs, of Rose, singing her queer +camp meeting songs in the spring twilight, of +Don, and the other dogs, the chickens, and her +beloved flowers, and wondered how all of them +were getting along with Richard and herself both +away.</p> + +<p>Her reveries were interrupted by a sudden +sound which made her start forward, tense with +excitement. The man in the studio had gone for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span> +a moment beyond the line of her vision, into a +corner of the room to her left. She could not +see what he was doing there, and it was while +waiting for him to reappear that she had fallen +into her day dream.</p> + +<p>The sound which startled her was the voice +of a child, not crying, this time, but speaking +clearly and distinctly. "I want to go home!" it +said, in a high nervous voice. "I want to see my +mamma!"</p> + +<p>The man answered roughly, impatiently. "You +can't go now. Be quiet and come and eat your +breakfast."</p> + +<p>He appeared suddenly in the line of view commanded +by the crack in the door, and Grace saw +that he held a small boy by one hand, and was +leading him to the table. Here he placed him in +a chair and set before him a glass of milk and +a roll. "Hurry up now!" the man growled. "Eat +your breakfast. I've got to go out."</p> + +<p>The man's words set Grace's heart to beating +with renewed quickness. If the man was going +out, she would be able to escape, and take the +boy with her.</p> + +<p>She did not doubt that he was Mr. Stapleton's +child. The girl's dress which he had worn on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> +the former occasion had been removed, and in +place of it he wore a suit of dark blue, somewhat +dirty and worn. His face still appeared to be +very dark, and his hair, which had formerly been +long and curly, was cropped close to his head. +He appeared to be well, but very nervous. Grace +watched him eagerly as he devoured the roll and +milk.</p> + +<p>When he had finished, the man took him by +the hand and again led him to the corner of the +room beyond Grace's sight. She strained her +face against the opening in the door, striving +in vain to see what he was doing; but it was useless.</p> + +<p>She heard the boy begin to object, begging the +man in a querulous voice to let him go out and +play. His captor, however, silenced him with a +sharp word, accompanied by a blow. "Get in +there, and keep quiet!" Grace heard him say, and +after that all was silent. A moment later the +man reappeared, put on his hat, and, going out, +locked the door carefully behind him. Grace +wondered if the maid had told him of her call, +and thereby roused his suspicions.</p> + +<p>She waited until she heard the front door close, +and then, emerging quickly from the closet, went<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> +toward the side of the room to which the man +had gone with the child.</p> + +<p>At first sight, there appeared to be no place +where the latter could have been hidden. The +two walls were of gray-tinted plaster, cracked and +stained with age. There was a rickety chair and +a battered plaster figure of a centaur, against +which leaned an easel and a mass of sketches, +covered with cobwebs and dust.</p> + +<p>With extreme care, she examined the walls and +floor. It seemed most likely that some trapdoor +existed, affording an entrance to a secret closet +in which the boy had been placed. A few moments' +effort showed no traces whatever of such +a hiding place. The floor was of planks, covered +with dust, and the cracks between the boards were +filled with dirt and showed nowhere evidences of +having been recently moved. The walls she +sounded gently with the handle of a modeling +tool which she snatched up from the +table; but they gave forth a uniformly solid +sound.</p> + +<p>She stood, surveying the place in perplexity. +Then a sudden thought occurred to her. The +ceiling! It swept low down, at the corner of the +room, and above it she knew there must be an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span> +attic. She went over and began to examine the +dusty plaster surface with minute care.</p> + +<p>A sound of footsteps upon the stairs sent her +scurrying back into the closet. She wondered +why the man had returned so soon. Greatly to +her surprise, she saw, as soon as the door opened, +that the newcomer was not the one who had left +her a short time before, but an older man, more +heavily built. As he turned and glanced toward +the side of the room where she was hidden, she +saw that he wore a heavy black beard. It was +the kidnapper himself—the man whom she had +seen at Mr. Stapleton's house the night before!</p> + +<p>He appeared to be annoyed, at not finding anyone +in the studio, and after a moment sat down +and lighting a cigar, began to read a newspaper +which he drew from his pocket.</p> + +<p>Grace watched him intently, hardly daring to +breathe for fear he might hear her. An hour +passed, and the air in the closet became close and +hot. She felt so nervous that she could have +screamed, when the door of the room suddenly +opened and Durand appeared.</p> + +<p>The two greeted each other with a nod. +"Where have you been?" the older man demanded, +somewhat angrily.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span>"I had to get a new battery." He took a short +black cylinder from his pocket and laid it on the +table.</p> + +<p>"Is the boy here?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Good! Now listen to your instructions." He +lowered his voice, glancing swiftly toward the +closed door of the room. "At eight o'clock I +shall go to the banker's house and get the money. +At eight fifteen, or a little before, François will +get his signal and repeat to you. If he flashes +the blue light, you will release the boy, leave the +room, lock the door, and go at once to the Place +du Trocadero. From the little tobacco shop you +will telephone the address of this place—No. +42, isn't it?—to Monsieur Stapleton. That will +be about half past eight. Do not telephone before +that. Then wait for me in front of the shop. +Do you understand?"</p> + +<p>"Perfectly. And if I get the red signal?"</p> + +<p>"In that event, do not release the boy, but +lock the door and come to the tobacco shop, as +before. I will communicate with you there. Old +Martelle is perfectly safe. But I do not think +there will be any trouble. You will get the blue +light."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span>"You seem sure."</p> + +<p>"I am. This man Stapleton is not going to +take any more chances. Once I am in the automobile, +I am safe."</p> + +<p>"They could arrest you while you are walking +to the Arc de Triomphe, after leaving the +house."</p> + +<p>"That is true; but what would they gain. They +would not get the boy, would they? And they +have no evidence to show that I stole him. Further, +François reports this morning that he overheard +Stapleton and his wife talking. There is +to be no interference—at least not until I get +away in the machine. They will follow me, of +course. I fully expect it. But you know the steps +I have taken to take care of <i>that</i> game." He +laughed grimly. "No—no—the thing is absolutely +safe. We will get away without the least +trouble."</p> + +<p>"Nevertheless, if anything goes wrong, and I +do not get the red signal, what shall we do then?"</p> + +<p>"We'll talk that over, when the time comes. +You meet me at Martelle's."</p> + +<p>"But suppose you can't be there? They might +get you, you know."</p> + +<p>The man with the beard frowned darkly, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span> +an evil expression came over his face. "If you get +the red signal, and I do not meet you at Martelle's +at half past eight, come back here, get +the boy, and take him to Lavillac. And before +you do so, cut off his left hand, and send it to +Stapleton with a letter telling him that if I am +not set free at once, you will send his head. That +will bring them to terms."</p> + +<p>Grace shuddered as she heard the man's words.</p> + +<p>His companion nodded. "I understand," he +said. "But I hope it won't be necessary."</p> + +<p>"It won't. They can't get me. I've planned +too carefully. That American detective, Duvall, +is a joke. He was out on the Boulevard du Bois +de Boulogne this morning with one of the Prefect's +men. They are figuring to have an automobile +at the Avenue Malakoff and follow me." +He laughed loudly. "Much good that will do +them!"</p> + +<p>"How about François?"</p> + +<p>"Oh—in a week or two, after we are safely +away, François will sprain his wrist, and be forced +to give up his position as Monsieur Stapleton's +chauffeur. He will join us in New York."</p> + +<p>The younger man puffed meditatively at his +cigarette. "What's become of that woman Lefevre<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span> +had snooping around? Seen anything of +her, since last night?"</p> + +<p>"No. She hasn't been about. Not much danger +of <i>her</i> finding out anything."</p> + +<p>The other rubbed his chin, in deep thought. +"She nearly got you, last night," he presently +remarked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no. Not a chance. I knew she was in +the house, and I figured she would telephone to +headquarters as soon as she learned who I was. +All I had to do was to signal you, through the +window, and the thing was done. Of course I +didn't expect the Prefect's man to get there quite +as soon as he did; but you handled him all right." +As he spoke, the man rose, went to a small mirror +that hung on the wall, and carefully removed +the black beard which was so distinguishing a +feature of his appearance.</p> + +<p>"Pretty hot, this thing," he announced, as he +threw it on the table. "Got anything to drink +about? I'm thirsty."</p> + +<p>Grace saw, as he turned toward her, that he +bore a striking resemblance to the masked man +who had given her the first message to Mr. +Stapleton, in the room of the house on the road +to Versailles. She trembled as she heard him ask<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span> +for the drink. Suppose the bottle should be in +the closet? She shrunk back in terror as the +younger man rose and started toward her.</p> + +<p>Her alarm was needless, however. The fellow +drew open one of the drawers of a small dresser +that stood on the opposite side of the room, and +took out a light green bottle. "Absinthe?" he +inquired.</p> + +<p>"All right. One won't do any harm. Don't +take any more, though." He began to pour out +the drink into a glass which stood upon the table. +"When you get the signal from François," he +went on, "you are to answer it, as usual, so he'll +know you've seen him. He doesn't want to stay +in his room very long—for fear he might be +missed."</p> + +<p>"They suspect him, of course."</p> + +<p>"Yes. He's being watched right along; when +he's out of the house, that is. They've searched +his room, and all that; but they haven't found +anything." He chuckled, and began to sip his +drink. "Nothing to find."</p> + +<p>The other man sat down at the table, and the +two began talking over their plans of escape. +Grace could not hear all they said; but, as nearly +as she could gather, they intended, as soon as the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> +younger man had joined the other, to run for +Brussels in the automobile. Near the frontier +they would leave the machine, change their disguises, +and cross the frontier on foot. Once in +Belgium, they seemed to think they would be quite +safe.</p> + +<p>It was along toward noon when the older man +readjusted his disguise and left the house. "I'm +going to get something to eat," he announced. "I +won't be back. You'd better not leave the place +again. I'll send you in something, if you like." +He glanced at the rolls and milk on the table.</p> + +<p>"It won't be necessary. I've got all I need. +Guess I'll take a nap this afternoon. Well, good +luck," he concluded, as the other started toward +the door. "See you later."</p> + +<p>"All right." The black-bearded man passed +noiselessly into the hall. "Don't sleep too long. +Eight o'clock, remember." In a moment he was +gone.</p> + +<p>Grace watched the other as he finished drinking +his absinthe and lit a cigarette. Presently he went +over to the cot and, throwing himself upon it, was +soon snoring loudly.</p> + +<p>The long hot afternoon wore itself on. Grace +leaned back against the wall of the closet, weak<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> +from the nervous tension of the situation. The +place was hot and close. She felt faint from lack +of air, from hunger. At times she dozed off, +then recovered herself with a start, and stood +trembling, fearful lest she had made some noise +which might attract the attention of the sleeping +man.</p> + +<p>After a time, the low complaining of the child +began again, at first faint and seemingly far off, +then growing in volume, until the tearful cries of +"Let me out—let me out!" seemed to come from +a point scarcely beyond the reach of her hand.</p> + +<p>The child's complaints at last awoke the sleeping +man. With a muttered curse he rose, crossed +the room, and disappeared from sight. Grace +heard a low scraping sound, as of a panel being +drawn back, and presently the man again appeared +with the child, and again supplied him with +bread and milk.</p> + +<p>After he had eaten, the man gave him a magazine +with bright-colored pictures in it, to amuse +him, and lay on the bed, smoking. The boy sat +on the floor, looking at the book.</p> + +<p>Once or twice he tried to speak, but the man +sharply bade him be quiet. About sundown, a +step was heard on the stairs, and once again the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span> +boy was hastily placed in his hiding place, with +threats of punishment if he cried.</p> + +<p>The new arrival was only a model, in search of +work. The man spoke to her gruffly, and informed +her that he had all the models he needed. +After she left, he did not again release the child, +but sat, reading, for a long time.</p> + +<p>At last he rose, took up the short black cylinder, +which Grace saw was an electric searchlight, from +the table, and went over and sat in the sill of +the large double window which faced to the north. +The window was open, and the room in darkness.</p> + +<p>Grace pushed the door of her closet open +slightly, so as to get a better view. The window +was directly opposite the closet, at the other end +of the room. She could see the silent figure of +the watcher, silhouetted blackly against the night +sky without. Off to the north were many lights—the +lights of the houses toward the Champs Élysées, +and the Arc de Triomphe.</p> + +<p>For many minutes she watched, over the man's +shoulder, waiting for the signal which would set +both herself and Mr. Stapleton's boy free from +their long confinement.</p> + +<p>Presently she heard the man utter a quick oath, +and saw him peer out of the window, his figure<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span> +tense and rigid, a pair of field glasses held to +his eyes. In another moment he had dropped +the glasses, picked up his electric searchlight, and +flashed a signal into the darkness.</p> + +<p>It took him but a moment. In another he had +rushed to the door, and Grace heard him turn +the key in the lock and clatter down the stairs.</p> + +<p>She crept swiftly to the window and looked out. +At first she could see nothing, but a confused maze +of lights. In a moment she had seized the field +glasses and was nervously sweeping the horizon. +Suddenly she held them still for a moment, then +drew back with a cry of dismay. Far off toward +the Avenue Kleber there gleamed a light, high in +the upper room of a house. It shone for a few +moments, steady, baleful, full of unknown terror, +then winked suddenly out and was gone. She +dropped the field glasses upon the floor and staggered +back against the table. <i>The light was red!</i> +She was locked in. The two men would undoubtedly +be back in fifteen or twenty minutes. And +then—she shuddered as she thought of what they +intended to do to the kidnapped child. To herself +she gave scarcely a thought. Then Richard's +face came before her eyes, and she fell upon the +window seat, sobbing bitterly.</p> + +<hr class="r15" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<p class="cap extraspacetop">WHEN Monsieur Lefevre touched Richard +Duvall on the shoulder, in the +restaurant in the Boulevard des Italiens, +he was filled with a very great feeling of anxiety, +although he concealed it behind a mask of pleased +surprise at the unexpected meeting.</p> + +<p>Since early the evening before he had had no +word from Grace. He knew from Mr. Stapleton +that she had left his house a short while after +nine; but since then she had completely disappeared.</p> + +<p>The Prefect at first thought that she had been +unable to keep her identity from her husband any +longer, and had joined him. He later learned +from Vernet that this was not the case. Now the +old gentleman began to feel seriously alarmed at +her continued absence.</p> + +<p>"How goes everything, my friend?" he asked, +with an elaborate show of carelessness. "Have +you found the kidnappers yet?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span>Duvall smiled. "Not yet. But I expect to +have them, before the evening is over."</p> + +<p>"Indeed! I congratulate you. Have you seen +anything of Mademoiselle Goncourt?"</p> + +<p>"No. Why?"</p> + +<p>"I thought perhaps you might have met her. +You two are after the same game, you know."</p> + +<p>Duvall smiled grimly. "I don't believe she's +following the same trail that I am," he said. "I +expect to win that bet, Monsieur."</p> + +<p>The Prefect seemed a trifle uneasy. "The evening +is not yet over, Monsieur," he replied. "But, +in any event, I hope that Monsieur Stapleton's son +will be returned to him without further delay, +whoever brings about the result."</p> + +<p>"Come to his house tonight, Monsieur. I have +arranged a little matter with Vernet which may +surprise you. And then, too, we shall have to go +and get the boy." He rose, and took up his hat. +"We shall want you with us."</p> + +<p>"By all means. I shall be there, my friend. +What hour would you suggest?"</p> + +<p>"Half past eight, at the latest."</p> + +<p>"Good! I shall be there at that time. Good +day, <i>mon ami</i>."</p> + +<p>"Au revoir. Give my respects to Mademoiselle<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span> +Goncourt." He left the restaurant and, going to +his room at the hotel, proceeded to write a long +letter to Grace. He reproached her for not having +written to him. Here he had been in Paris +four days, and had not heard a word from her! +A letter, he felt, should have come by the very +next steamer—several, in fact. He told her how +greatly he missed her, how deeply he loved her, +and how soon he hoped to return to her arms. +And even as he wrote, Grace, half dead from +fatigue, stood hidden in the closet at Passy, a mile +away, watching with frightened eyes the kidnapper +asleep on the pallet bed.</p> + +<p>Duvall had arranged to be at Mr. Stapleton's +house a little before eight that night, and it still +lacked twenty minutes of the hour when he ascended +the steps of the banker's residence and was +ushered into the library.</p> + +<p>Mr. Stapleton sat in grim silence, awaiting the +coming of his visitor. He did not seem particularly +glad to see Duvall. The latter's apparent +failure to make any headway in the matter of +recovering his missing boy had caused the banker +to lose confidence in his abilities.</p> + +<p>"Good evening, Duvall," he remarked, indifferently.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span>"Good evening, Mr. Stapleton. You are ready +for your man, I see." He glanced at the package +of banknotes which lay at the banker's elbow.</p> + +<p>"Quite. You have done nothing to interfere +with his coming or going, I trust."</p> + +<p>"Nothing."</p> + +<p>Stapleton glanced at the clock. "He will be +here very soon, now. May I ask you to wait in +my study, upstairs? It would never do for you +to be here. The man might be afraid to enter."</p> + +<p>"No—you are right. I must not be here. But +I prefer not to wait in the study. I have another +plan."</p> + +<p>"What is it?" inquired the banker, uneasily.</p> + +<p>"Where is François, your chauffeur?"</p> + +<p>"At his dinner, I believe. Why?"</p> + +<p>"Will you kindly find out for sure? I want to +go to his room."</p> + +<p>Mr. Stapleton summoned a servant, who told +him that the chauffeur was just finishing his dinner. +"You will be very careful, Duvall," he said, +anxiously. "I don't want anything done which +will alarm these fellows."</p> + +<p>"Oh, François won't see me. I shall keep +out of his sight. Perhaps I had better go up +now." He nodded to the banker, and at once<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span> +ascended the stairs which lead to the servants' +quarters.</p> + +<p>At the door of the chauffeur's room he paused. +It was closed. He pushed it gently open, and in +a moment was in the room. The place was quite +dark; but by means of a pocket light Duvall soon +found the closet, and a moment later was safely +ensconced within. He left the door ajar, and to +his satisfaction found that he could see through +the north window without difficulty. Here he +waited, until the chauffeur should arrive.</p> + +<p>Mr. Stapleton, meanwhile, sat grimly in the +library below, waiting for the coming of the kidnapper. +Promptly at eight o'clock, his butler +announced that the man had arrived.</p> + +<p>"Show him in at once," exclaimed the banker, +as he rose and began to walk up and down the +room.</p> + +<p>In a moment the man came into the library. +His powerful figure, his black beard, his assured +manner, rendered him an easily recognized figure.</p> + +<p>"I have come, Monsieur, as I said I would," +he remarked, calmly. "I trust you have the +money in readiness."</p> + +<p>Stapleton stepped over to the desk and picked +up the package of banknotes. "Here it is," he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span> +growled. "I understand that you will, in return +for this money, send me word at once as to where +my son is to be found."</p> + +<p>"Within half an hour, Monsieur, at the latest; +provided, of course, I am not interfered with in +my escape."</p> + +<p>"There will be no interference, until I get back +my boy. After that, I shall spend another hundred +thousand dollars, if need be, to bring you to +justice."</p> + +<p>"That, Monsieur, is quite within the terms of +our agreement. The moment you receive the address, +you are free from any obligation to me. +May I see the money?" He extended his +hand.</p> + +<p>Mr. Stapleton placed the banknotes in it. +"Count them," he growled, "and assure yourself +that you have received the amount you demand."</p> + +<p>The kidnapper sat down with the utmost coolness +and began to count over the notes. They +were all of large denomination, and the operation +consumed but a few moments. As soon as he had +finished, the man placed the bundle of notes carefully +in an inside pocket and rose. "The amount +is correct, Monsieur," he said. "Permit me to +bid you a very good evening." Without further<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span> +delay, he bowed, took up his hat, and left the +room.</p> + +<p>At the door he glanced quickly at his watch, +then strode off up the street at a rapid pace, +toward the Arc de Triomphe.</p> + +<p>For some eight or ten minutes he walked, at +the expiration of which time he arrived at the +Place de l'Étoile, and at once crossed to +the pavement surrounding the great triumphal +arch.</p> + +<p>Up and down the twelve great avenues which +radiate from the Place of the Star flashed innumerable +automobiles, coming and going like huge +jeweled fireflies.</p> + +<p>The kidnapper paused at a point on the very +outer edge of the circular pavement which surrounds +the arch, and waited, expectant, his eyes +fixed upon the broad sweep of the Champs +Élysées.</p> + +<p>For some moments he stood thus, rigid, motionless. +Suddenly a big black racing car swept +from the line of traffic and approached the curb. +The man on the sidewalk raised his hand, and +made a momentary gesture. The car quivered +to the side of the street, pausing but the fraction +of a second as the tall figure of the kidnapper<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> +stepped in. Another moment, and it had swept +around the great arch and was flying down the +Avenue du Bois de Boulogne.</p> + +<p>Close behind it came a second car, which, like +the first, contained but a single occupant in addition +to the chauffeur. With scarcely fifty feet +between them, the two machines swept down the +broad street toward the intersection with the +Avenue Malakoff.</p> + +<p>In a few moments, both had reached it. But +here their ways parted. The first car, turning in +a quick and dangerous quadrant, swept into the +Avenue Malakoff and sped southward like the +wind. The second car continued on toward the +Porte Dauphine. As it passed the intersection +with the Avenue Malakoff, the chauffeur, unobserved +by his passenger, directed a cylindrical +black object toward the southern sky and held it +there, motionless, until his car had disappeared +in the shadow of the trees to the west.</p> + +<p>Just inside the Avenue Malakoff lay a third +car, its powerful engine shaking it from end to +end with its rapid pulsations. Two men sat in +the tonneau. One of them was occupied in watching +a distant window in the rear of a house on +the Avenue Kleber with a pair of field glasses.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span> +The other kept his gaze fixed upon the road before +him.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the man with the field glasses turned, +and pointed toward the car which was just passing +from sight along the Avenue du Bois de Boulogne. +"Quick!" he muttered. "After him!"</p> + +<p>The automobile shot forward like a racehorse +under the whip, and in a moment was flying down +the avenue in hot pursuit.</p> + +<p>The foremost car was making high speed; but +the one which pursued it was clearly the faster of +the two. Slowly the space which separated them +began to decrease. The man in the first car spoke +quietly to his chauffeur, and the great car jumped +forward with renewed speed.</p> + +<p>Vernet, in charge of the pursuing car, swore +softly to himself as he saw his quarry pull away +from him. He had confidence, however, in the +speed of his own machine, and urged his driver to +greater efforts.</p> + +<p>For several miles the two swept on, the rear +car gaining slowly, in spite of the other's best +efforts. They had passed the fortifications and +were now in the Bois de Boulogne, and with +clearer roads ahead the chase seemed likely to be +a long one.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span>Suddenly, to Vernet's astonishment, the forward +car began to slow up. In a moment the Prefect's +men ranged alongside, and covered the solitary +passenger with their revolvers.</p> + +<p>"Surrender!" Vernet cried. "You are my +prisoner."</p> + +<p>The man in the other car looked up, and calmly +began to light a cigarette. "Are you a bandit, +my friend?" he inquired, calmly.</p> + +<p>The detective was taken aback. The two cars +had now come to a standstill at one side of the +road. "Search him!" he said quickly to his companion.</p> + +<p>The second man climbed into the car. Its occupant +made no protest. "What do you wish with +me, gentlemen?" he asked, with a sarcastic smile. +"My watch—my money?"</p> + +<p>"The searchlight, first of all," replied the detective, +"with which you signaled."</p> + +<p>The man looked at him in astonishment. +"What are you talking about, Monsieur?" he +inquired. "Is this then a joke?"</p> + +<p>Vernet began to feel a trifle uneasy. This man +certainly did not appear to resemble in any way +the prisoner he had sought. He was a clean-shaven +young man, elegantly dressed, and quite<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span> +evidently a gentleman. "Do you deny," asked +the detective, "that on passing the Avenue Malakoff +a few moments ago you flashed a blue light +toward the Avenue Kleber?"</p> + +<p>The young man laughed. "Of course I deny +it," he said. "Why the devil should I be flashing +blue lights at the Avenue Kleber? And who are +you, to ask me any such nonsensical questions?"</p> + +<p>"I am an agent of the police, Monsieur. Who +are you?"</p> + +<p>"I am Anton Lemaitre, stock broker, of the +firm of Lemaitre and Bossard." He handed a +card to the dumbfounded Vernet. "I am trying +a new automobile, which I think of purchasing. +My chauffeur proposed that we try it out in the +Bois, where there is more opportunity to speed +than in the city."</p> + +<p>"Why did you then run away?"</p> + +<p>"My dear sir, I saw you following me. I +wish to own a fast car—the fastest car in Paris, +if possible. I directed my driver to see what he +could do. I do not believe, however, that I +shall now buy the car, since yours is faster. What +make is it, Monsieur, if I may ask?"</p> + +<p>Vernet smothered an oath. Clearly this man +was telling the truth. He directed his companion<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span> +to get in with Monsieur Lemaitre. "Drive to the +Prefecture," he said, "and let the gentleman tell +his story to Monsieur Lefevre." He himself +ordered his chauffeur to proceed with all despatch +to Mr. Stapleton's house. The affair had ended +in a fiasco. He felt that he must see Duvall at +once.</p> + +<p>In fifteen minutes he was at the house. Mr. +Stapleton was waiting patiently in the library for +the telephone call which would announce the hiding +place of his boy. With him were Mrs. Stapleton +and Monsieur Lefevre.</p> + +<p>The poor man and his wife were in a pitiable +state, their eyes glued to the clock which stood on +the mantel. It was marked twenty-six minutes +past eight. "Only four minutes more!" gasped +Mrs. Stapleton, through her tears. "My God! +why don't they hurry?"</p> + +<p>Her husband endeavored to console her. +"They may be a few moments late, my dear. +Don't excite yourself. I am sure they will keep +their word."</p> + +<p>Vernet went over to Monsieur Lefevre and +explained the events of the evening in a few +words. The Prefect smiled grimly. "So Monsieur +Duvall has failed again!" he remarked, in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span> +a low voice. "Mon Dieu! If we do not soon +hear from Mademoiselle Goncourt, I shall begin +to feel nervous myself."</p> + +<p>Slowly the hands of the clock crept around. +As the half hour was reached, and the telephone +bell remained silent, Mrs. Stapleton uttered a +groan of despair, and sank upon the couch, weeping +pitifully. Mr. Stapleton, watch in hand, paced +up and down the room. "They have been interfered +with," he stormed, "or they would have +communicated with me before now!" He turned +to Monsieur Lefevre. "You have done nothing, +I hope, to again prevent me from recovering my +son?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing, Monsieur."</p> + +<p>Mr. Stapleton waited another five minutes. It +now wanted twenty minutes to nine. The telephone +bell remained persistently silent. The banker +closed his watch with a snap and thrust it into +his pocket. His face was pale with rage and +suffering. Drops of perspiration collected on his +forehead. "The scoundrels!" he cried. "They +have broken their word, and robbed me of a hundred +thousand dollars in the bargain. I will give +another hundred thousand to the man who will +capture them, dead or alive, and find my boy!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span>There was a profound silence, broken only by +the quick sobbing of Mrs. Stapleton. Neither +Lefevre nor Vernet ventured to speak.</p> + +<p>Suddenly there arose sounds of a commotion +among the servants gathered in the hall without. +In their devotion to their employer they had collected +there to welcome the lost boy. There were +exclamations, cries of astonishment—and dismay.</p> + +<p>The occupants of the room turned in surprise +toward the door. As they did so, Richard Duvall +appeared in the doorway. He staggered, and +with difficulty supported himself by clutching the +side of the door. His face was covered with +blood, his clothes torn and disheveled.</p> + +<p>He swayed a moment, unsteadily in the door.</p> + +<p>"What is it—what is wrong?" cried Stapleton, +starting toward him.</p> + +<p>"The child is at 42 Rue Nicolo, Passy," gasped +the detective, then fell heavily upon the library +floor.</p> + +<hr class="r15" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + +<p class="cap extraspacetop">RICHARD DUVALL, waiting with nervous +impatience in the closet in François' room, +at last heard a soft and guarded step +upon the stairs. He drew back, his muscles tense, +and gazed fixedly at the door.</p> + +<p>Although the room was dark, the glow of the +street lamps from without, the faint light of the +evening sky, sufficed, now that his eyes had become +accustomed to the darkness, to enable him not +only to recognize the chauffeur as he entered the +room, but to follow his movements with little or +no difficulty.</p> + +<p>The man seemed hurried. He groped his way +to the dresser at the opposite side of the room, +and felt about for the searchlight which Duvall +knew lay within easy reach.</p> + +<p>Having secured it, he directed it for a brief +moment upon his watch, noted the time, then, +going to the door, opened it, and began to listen +intently.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span>The detective at once surmised that he was +listening for the departure of his confederate, the +man with the black beard.</p> + +<p>Presently the chauffeur drew back, closing the +door with a grunt of satisfaction, and once more +approached the dresser. Duvall concluded that +he had gone to get the colored glasses by which +he would be able to make the required signals.</p> + +<p>In a moment he returned to the window, and +Duvall saw him place the two glass cups upon the +sill, and lean out expectantly.</p> + +<p>It seemed a long time before he stirred. The +detective, looking over his shoulder, found that +his line of vision was interrupted so that he could +not see the lights which flashed past the entrance +of the Avenue Malakoff. He was forced to content +himself with keeping a close watch upon the +chauffeur.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the man, by an almost instantaneous +movement, clapped one of the little glass cups +over the end of the tube which formed the searchlight, +and directed it toward the street. Duvall +could not tell whether the signal was blue, or red. +He had every reason to believe, however, that +it was the former.</p> + +<p>The chauffeur held the tube upon the window<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span> +sill for a few seconds only, then withdrew it, and +started to cross the room toward the south window. +As he did so, he swept the light into the +room, and for an instant it fell upon the crack +in the closet door through which Duvall was +peering. He was conscious of a blinding blue +radiance, close to his eyes, and the sudden flash +caused him to draw back with a quick and involuntary +movement. He realized that the chauffeur +had not seen him, and that, in a few moments +more, the signal would be given which would +bring untold happiness to both Mr. Stapleton and +his wife.</p> + +<p>The momentary recoil, however, was fatal to +his plans. Although he moved his head but a +fraction of an inch, the suddenness of the movement +was sufficient to cause a metal coat hanger, +which hung, empty, from a hook, to click sharply +against its neighbor.</p> + +<p>The chauffeur spun around with the quickness +of a cat, and, grasping the knob of the closet door, +threw it open. In his hand he still clutched the +tube of the searchlight.</p> + +<p>Duvall at the same moment reached for the +revolver which lay in a side pocket of his coat. +He realized instantly that, now that his presence<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span> +had been discovered, the chauffeur would of course +not send the signal to his confederates in Passy +which would result in the telephoning of the address +to Mr. Stapleton, but would on the contrary +flash a red signal, which the detective fully +believed would result in the child's death.</p> + +<p>It was imperative that this should be prevented. +Duvall had determined to be present in the chauffeur's +room for two reasons,—first, to send +the favorable signal to Passy himself, should +things go wrong, and the chauffeur receive a +red flash from the street; secondly, to arrest +François in the act of receiving and sending the +signals.</p> + +<p>He now realized that he must do both, and +that, too, without a moment's delay.</p> + +<p>As the chauffeur threw open the door he flashed +the blue light full upon the crouching figure of the +detective.</p> + +<p>The latter, revolver in hand, commanded him +sharply to throw up his hands.</p> + +<p>The chauffeur did so—thereby directing the +light of the electric lamp toward the ceiling. The +sudden change from the glare which an instant +before had been in his eyes, to almost total darkness, +left Duvall momentarily blind. His eyes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span> +could not instantaneously respond to the withdrawal +of the light. The figure of the chauffeur +appeared but a dark and formless shadow.</p> + +<p>The latter, however, not having faced the glare +of the light, was able to see without difficulty. +With lightning like quickness he spun around on +one foot, until his back instead of his face was +toward the detective. Then his right foot rose, +in the famous and deadly blow of the <i>savate</i>.</p> + +<p>It has been said that this backward kick, so +dear to the heart of the Parisian crook, is more +to be feared than any possible onslaught in good +old Anglo-Saxon style with the fists. Certainly +in this instance it was too much for Richard Duvall. +The unexpected blow, coming during the +moment when the sudden darkness had left him +blinded and confused, sent him crashing back into +the depths of the closet, buried beneath a +mass of clothing. His arms, entangled in falling +coats and waistcoats, were helpless. The +revolver flew from his hand, and lay useless on the +floor.</p> + +<p>The chauffeur went about his business calmly. +His first move was to direct the searchlight carefully +into the interior of the closet, slipping the +blue cup from the end of it as he did so and allowing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span> +it to fall unheeded to the floor. His second +was to draw a long and peculiarly deadly looking +knife.</p> + +<p>His quick eye saw at once that the revolver was +no longer in the detective's grasp. His searchlight +enabled him to discern it, lying on the floor +to one side of the closet. Before Duvall could +extricate himself from the articles of clothing in +which he was entangled, François had stooped +quickly, picked up the revolver, and slammed the +door of the closet upon him. As he struggled +to his feet, the detective heard the click of the +key as it turned in the lock. He was a +prisoner.</p> + +<p>Without losing a moment, the chauffeur tossed +the revolver upon the table, took up the cup-shaped +bit of red glass, fitted it to the tube of the +searchlight, and, going to the south window, placed +it upon the sill in such a way that its crimson glare +was directed almost due south. It was evident +that the position in which the light was placed was +marked by the two tiny scratches cut in the woodwork +of the window sill. In a moment he had +turned back toward the closet door.</p> + +<p>Duvall, meanwhile, realized that only by instant +and superhuman effort could he hope to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span> +remedy the frightful situation which his unlucky +movement had precipitated.</p> + +<p>He braced his shoulders and back against the +rear wall of the closet, put his two feet against +the door, and with every atom of strength in his +body strove to force it open.</p> + +<p>His movements had been quick. Just as the +chauffeur turned back from the window toward +the room, Duvall, his muscles knotted with effort, +drove the full force of his body against the closet +door.</p> + +<p>The lock, a cheap affair, was torn loose in a +twinkling, and an instant later the two men had +grappled in the center of the room.</p> + +<p>The detective's one desire was to get to the +window, remove the red light which he knew was +flashing its fateful message across the housetops, +and substitute for it a blue light, which he hoped +even now might shine forth in time to redeem the +situation.</p> + +<p>This, however, the chauffeur was equally determined +to prevent. He realized that he was caught, +that his complicity in the affair was known, +and that he must warn his comrades of his danger, +so that, by refusing to give up the boy, they +might effect his release. He was fighting for his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span> +liberty as desperately as Duvall was fighting for +that of Mr. Stapleton's child.</p> + +<p>The two men were evenly matched. The chauffeur +was perhaps the stronger, in shoulders and +arms, due to his profession. The constant grip +upon the steering wheel had given to his upper +body muscles like steel.</p> + +<p>The detective, though somewhat less powerful +in this direction, was stronger in the back and +legs. He had been an athlete, at college, and his +recent life upon the farm at home had toughened +and hardened him from head to foot.</p> + +<p>He rushed at his opponent, threw his arms +around the latter's waist, and strove to lift him +and throw him to the floor.</p> + +<p>The chauffeur at the same time got his right +arm about Duvall's throat, and with his left did +his best to gouge out one of the latter's eyes. His +was the style of fighting that considers not means, +but results.</p> + +<p>For a moment they swayed heavily about the +room, the detective burying his face in his opponent's +side to protect his eyes, and at the same time +striving with all his might to force him back +toward the bed.</p> + +<p>François, however, fought well. He began to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span> +compress his adversary's throat in a choking grip +of wrist and forearm which threatened to put +an end to the struggle in short order. At the same +time his left thumb continually sought the detective's +eyes.</p> + +<p>Suddenly it reached one of them. Duvall felt +a blinding sense of pain as the thumb nail sank +into the soft and tender muscles about the eye. +The shock was fatal to the plans of the chauffeur; +for it raised up in his opponent a great and deadly +rage, that for an instant gave him the strength of +a madman. He raised his opponent from the +floor as though the latter had been a child, broke +the grip upon his throat by straightening his head, +and with a mighty heave hurled him to the floor.</p> + +<p>The fellow struck upon his side, his temple +crashing loudly against the wooden floor. Duvall +stood over him for an instant, breathing heavily, +convulsively, then turned and snatched the +searchlight from the window sill and threw it +upon the bed.</p> + +<p>There was a trunk against the wall of the +room, near the window, and about it a broad +leather strap. Duvall tore the strap from its place, +and in a few moments had fastened it about the +chauffeur's arms and body.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span>A towel, knotted about his ankles, rendered +him helpless. Then the detective began to search +upon the floor for the bit of blue glass.</p> + +<p>In his heart there was no joy at the victory +he had just won. He had captured one of the +kidnappers, it was true; but on the other hand +he had, by his own carelessness, prevented the +safe return of the kidnapped boy to his parents.</p> + +<p>He pictured the father and mother, patiently +waiting below for the telephone message which +would never come, and wondered how he would +dare to tell them the truth.</p> + +<p>At last his nervous fingers closed upon the little +glass cup, where it had rolled under the edge of +the dresser when François had thrown it down. +Trembling with haste, he fixed it to the searchlight +which he took from the bed, and, with a hopeless +feeling, approached the window, and began +to wave the light frantically in the direction of +Passy.</p> + +<p>For several moments there was no response. +As a matter of fact, he scarcely expected any. +Then all of a sudden he saw a faint red gleam, +like a star, flash from the distant night, and then +go out.</p> + +<p>He stood, helpless, waiting for it to reappear,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span> +hardly daring to hope that it would do so. Suddenly +it shone again, this time for a longer period, +and then disappeared. He wondered what it +meant, and was scarcely surprised when the light +again flashed, this time making five quick flashes, +which he instantly recognized as Morse code for +the letter "P." There was a brief interval, then +once more the signals began to flash. This time +he read them without difficulty. There were four +letters, spelling the word "Help."</p> + +<p>For an instant he leveled the tube of the +searchlight toward the point from which the +flashes came, guiding it by the scratches on the +sill, and began pressing the button which turned +the light on and off. "Where are you?" he spelled +out, then waited fearfully for the reply. He +dared send no other message. The person at the +other end, the one who sent this ominous word, +"help," must be one of the kidnappers; yet why +should he signal for assistance? He could make +nothing of the matter, but he reasoned that anyone +calling for help would be sure to give their location, +otherwise how could they expect to receive it.</p> + +<p>For a moment the red flashes began again, +and this time he began to get the numbers. +There were four quick flashes and a long dash,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span> +then others in rapid succession: "4-2-R-u-e-N-i-c-o-l-o, +P-a-s-s-y," the message read. "C-o-m-e +q-u-i-c-k."</p> + +<p>Duvall's head reeled, as he spelled out the +words. He had not realized until now that he +was wounded. The blood, pouring down his face +from the great gash in his cheek, spattered thickly +upon the window sill. He turned from the window, +then realized that he must send some answer, +to let this mysterious person at the other end of +the line know that his message had been safely +received.</p> + +<p>"Will come at once. Who are you?" he spelled +out, laboriously, his head spinning, his fingers +trembling from weakness as he tried to stop the +flow of blood from his wound.</p> + +<p>"G-R-A-C-E D-U-V-A-L-L" came back the +flashes, quick, clear cut, unmistakable.</p> + +<p>Duvall dropped the searchlight to the floor +with a harsh laugh. His brain was reeling—the +whole thing became a foolish, senseless nightmare. +He wondered if he was delirious, and had +dreamed it all. Again he flashed a signal into the +darkness. "Who are you?" he spelled out again. +He did not believe that he had read the former +answer aright. Evidently his imagination was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span> +playing him tricks—Grace had been on his mind +so constantly, throughout the day. He wiped the +blood from his eyes and stared eagerly out into +the darkness. There was no response.</p> + +<p>Then he remembered the words of the message, +"Come quick." There was no time for idle +speculations as to the identity of the person who +had sent him the message.</p> + +<p>He rushed to the stairs, and with tottering footsteps +descended to the library below. François, +the chauffeur, still lay, bound and unconscious, +upon the floor.</p> + +<hr class="r15" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + +<p class="cap extraspacetop">FOR a few moments after being left alone +in the studio at Passy, Grace almost lost +her courage. She knew that the man who +had remained on guard in the room had received +the danger signal—the red light—which told him +that the plans of his confederates had miscarried. +She remembered the instructions which the black-bearded +man had given him. "If I do not meet +you at Martelle's, take the boy to Lavillac. And +before you do so, cut off his left hand and send it +to Mr. Stapleton."</p> + +<p>The very thought of the thing made her sick. +She rushed to the door, and tore frantically at +the knob; but it resisted all her efforts. She +glanced at the windows, knowing that to escape +by means of them from her position on the top +floor of the house was impossible. And then—should +she escape, she would be obliged to leave +the child, and this she by no means wanted to do.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span>Suddenly she heard again the faint moaning. +The sound almost drove her frantic. She rushed +to the window and looked out, praying for guidance, +for some ray of hope in the frightful situation +in which she found herself.</p> + +<p>Already several minutes had passed since the +departure of the man. It would not be long, she +felt, before he returned, and, for all she knew, the +black-bearded man with him. Would they attack +her, if they found her there? She could hide +again, of course; but that would not accomplish +anything, except perhaps, to save herself. And +she had set out to rescue the child.</p> + +<p>In a whirl of indecision, she glanced out of the +window, toward the point in the north where she +had seen the red light. She wondered where it +was, from what place it had been sent. Then +suddenly, as she swept the horizon with eager +eyes, she saw, where a few moments before the +red light had flashed, a gleam of blue. Unlike +the red signal, however, which had been steady, +as though fixed in place, this one moved about +restlessly, now pointing full at her, now almost +disappearing to the right or left.</p> + +<p>She seized the field glasses and gazed at the +light in wonder. Did this mean that the kidnappers<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span> +had been successful, after all, and that the +former signal had been a mistake, or did it indicate +that the person giving the first signal had +been overpowered, and that the light was in the +hands of friends?</p> + +<p>She had no means of knowing; but here was +someone who was trying to send her word that all +was well. She determined to reply.</p> + +<p>Her one thought was to get to Mr. Stapleton +her present address. She knew that the man who +had been intrusted with the task of telephoning it +to the banker, would not now do so. She would +try to send the address herself.</p> + +<p>Then came to her a great feeling of joy, that +she was familiar with the Morse code. Richard +had taught it to her, during their trip from Paris +to New York the year before. She remembered +how she had been interested in the wireless, +and Richard had offered to teach her the +alphabet.</p> + +<p>She picked up the searchlight and examined it. +It was an ordinary pocket lamp, with a dry battery, +such as are sold at stores dealing in electrical +goods, and she saw, from its size, that it was an +unusually powerful one.</p> + +<p>Midway along one side was a tiny button, by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span> +pressing which the circuit was completed, and +the light made to flash. By pressing this button +momentarily, she could get a quick flash, comparable +to a dot. By holding it down longer, she +could produce a dash.</p> + +<p>She did not stop to remove the red glass which +was fixed over the front of the light; in fact, she +concluded that it would be better to let it remain. +There were many white lights all about—among +them, her own would have but a small chance +of being seen. But red was significant, conspicuous, +indicative of danger, and that she was in +grave danger she very well knew.</p> + +<p>She decided to first send the word "help." She +knew that if the person receiving the message was +a friend, he would at once ask where she was, +since that would be to Mr. Stapleton and his party +the most essential and important news she could +give.</p> + +<p>On the other hand, were it to be received by +one of the kidnappers, he would ask her, not +where she was, but what was the matter.</p> + +<p>Painfully, fearful of mistakes, she deciphered +the message which slowly flashed across the mile +of night. "Where are you."</p> + +<div class="figcenter extraspacetop" > +<img src="images/illus03a.jpg" width="355" height="546" alt="With trembling fingers she spelled out her reply, giving the address and +adding, "Come quick!"" title="" /></div> +<p class="center caption blockquote">With trembling fingers she spelled out her reply, giving the address and +adding, "Come quick!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span></p> +<p class="extraspacetop">With trembling fingers, she spelled out her +reply, giving the address and adding, "Come +quick." When she got the answer, "Will come +at once," she felt that there was still a chance +that the boy might be saved. Then came the request +for her name. She gave this impatiently. +What difference did it matter, so long as they +came quickly.</p> + +<p>She hastily lighted a candle which stood upon +the table, then cast about her for some means +whereby she might prevent the black-bearded man +and his companion from entering the room, in +case they should return before help arrived. +There was one thing, of course, that she could +do, barricade the door.</p> + +<p>But, with the exception of the table and the +light iron bed, there was nothing with which she +could hope to secure it. Suddenly her eyes fell +upon the great plaster centaur. It was a figure +such as one might see in any art gallery or museum. +It stood upon a plaster slab some six inches +thick, which in turn rested upon a low wooden +base. The figure was at least five feet high—a +horse with a human torso and head. She knew +that if she could jam this in front of the door, +securing it in place with the bed and table, she +might prevent the kidnappers from entering for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span> +some little time; long enough, she hoped, to insure +the arrival of the police before they had +succeeded in breaking in.</p> + +<p>She wondered if she could manage to move +the thing. At first sight, it seemed impossible, and +yet the base might by chance be fitted with rollers +or casters. She rushed over to the figure and +began to tug at it with all her strength.</p> + +<p>She needed but a moment to discover that she +could not possibly move it; but as she bent over it, +her head close to its side, she heard something +which made her start with sudden joy.</p> + +<p>It was the low sobbing of a child—the same +moaning sound which she had heard from time +to time ever since she had first entered the room.</p> + +<p>At times the sound had appeared to come from +afar off; at others, it had seemed to be close at +hand, as though originating at some point in the +very air about her.</p> + +<p>All of a sudden the truth came to her like a +flash. The child was concealed within the hollow +body of the statue. The thing seemed so simple, +so apparent, that she wondered that it had not +occurred to her before.</p> + +<p>She gave up her attempt to barricade the door, +and began feverishly to look for the opening in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span> +the plaster cast through which the child must have +entered.</p> + +<p>It took but a few moments to find it. The +whole side of the horse's body had been sawed +free, by two longitudinal cuts, one along the back, +the other along the belly, and two similar cuts, +at the shoulder, and the flank. Heavy strips of +canvas, glued across the lower cut, on the under +side of the horse's belly, served as hinges, and +were not visible from above.</p> + +<p>She inserted the blade of a modeling tool +which she caught up from the table, in the upper +longitudinal cut, and pried the plaster side of the +horse free. It fell heavily toward her, disclosing +a long narrow opening; the interior, in fact, of +the statue, where lay, upon a sort of bed made of +an old comfort, the missing son of Mr. Stapleton.</p> + +<p>The boy, who had evidently until a moment +before been asleep, gazed up at her in surprised +alarm. For over two weeks, now, he had been +kept from his parents, made to move about from +place to place, frightened by strange men. He +had come to expect the unusual, the terrifying, +and it was a scared little face that looked appealingly +up at the girl as she bent over him.</p> + +<p>For the time being she forgot the dangers which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span> +surrounded them, in her joy at the discovery of +the boy. It had come so suddenly, so unexpectedly. +If she could only escape, now, with the +child, nothing else would matter in the least. And +between her and freedom there lay but the thickness +of a single door, and yet it seemed that she +could not pass it.</p> + +<p>She lifted the child from his hiding place and +stood him upon the floor, then quickly swung the +heavy slab of plaster back into position. At least, +she reasoned, the kidnappers, when they returned, +should not at once learn that their captive had +escaped.</p> + +<p>She knew that the hiding place had been but a +temporary one, a means whereby the child might +be kept out of sight during the day in case +strangers should happen to enter the room. As +soon as the kidnappers returned, they would, she +realized, spirit the child away to some more secure +retreat.</p> + +<p>She went to the door and again shook it frantically, +pulling at the knob with all her strength, +without producing the slightest result. The lock +was evidently a strong one—the door held firm +and unyielding, though she threw against it her +entire weight.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span>Evidently there was no hope of escape here. +Then she again bethought herself of the window. +For a moment she gazed out into the darkness. +The pavement was thirty feet below. No one +was in sight. How could she ever reach the +ground, with the child as well, even if she had +possessed a rope? The thing was impossible.</p> + +<p>Clearly there was nothing to do but wait. Possibly +the assistance she expected from her friends, +or the police, would arrive very soon—surely she +could in some way keep the kidnappers occupied +until then!</p> + +<p>And suddenly she realized that the time had +come. She heard the door of the house close +softly, and upon the stair the sound of mounting +footsteps.</p> + +<p>Which was it, the police, or the kidnappers? +The latter, she felt morally certain, since the former, +in their haste to rescue the child, would +beyond any question have arrived in an automobile, +and at top speed.</p> + +<p>The newcomers were mounting the stairs in a +leisurely manner, as though free from any anxiety. +Grace heard them pause for a moment on the +first landing, then start up the second flight of +stairs. It seemed to her out of the question, to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span> +stand in the middle of the room and await their +entrance. At least she could postpone the fatal +moment a little while, by hiding, with the boy, +in the closet. She stepped into it, the child's hand +in hers, and drew the door shut, just as the two +men entered the room. On her way, she hastily +blew out the candle.</p> + +<p>They were the same two men that she had seen +before,—the black-bearded man, now without his +beard, and the artist, Durand. She saw this, as +soon as the latter had relit the candle. She wondered +if he would notice that the wick was still +warm. Evidently he did not; for they threw +themselves into chairs, lit cigarettes, and began to +talk.</p> + +<p>"Now we can speak freely," said Durand. +"How did things go?"</p> + +<p>"I got the money—gave the blue signal, and +expected to be halfway to Brussels by now. What +nonsense is this about a red light?"</p> + +<p>"It is no nonsense, I assure you. I saw it with +my own eyes, as plain as day."</p> + +<p>"Then François must have made a mistake, or +else he has been placed under arrest—the latter, +no doubt. Now the question is, What shall we +do? I think we ought to get out of Paris as soon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span> +as possible. It isn't safe to stay here." He looked +about him nervously.</p> + +<p>"Why not? You didn't telephone Monsieur +Stapleton this address, did you?"</p> + +<p>"No, naturally not."</p> + +<p>"Then I don't see but what we are quite safe. +No one knows the child is here."</p> + +<p>"Then you don't intend to give him up?"</p> + +<p>"Not yet. I must first find out whether or not +François is in trouble."</p> + +<p>"Let him look out for himself."</p> + +<p>The older man frowned. "Since when, my +friend," he asked, "have I been in the habit of +deserting my comrades? François must go free, +or Mr. Stapleton does not get his boy. That's +flat. The first thing is to send his father something +that will let him see that we mean business."</p> + +<p>"We've got to be sure about François, first."</p> + +<p>"I'll find that out, tonight. My plan is this. +We must first get the child away to Lavillac's +place. This is too unsafe, here. Anyone might +come in."</p> + +<p>"They'd have difficulty in finding the hiding +place." The younger man grinned.</p> + +<p>"That's all very well; but the other place is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span> +safer. And then—Lavillac's woman can look +after the brat while we are away. What a pity +François had to get into a mess at the last moment! +I hoped to be rid of the boy, by now." +The older man rose and began striding up and +down the room.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said at length, sharply, "we might +as well get along. I move that we wrap the boy +in a coat, take him down to the car, run quickly +out to Lavillac's place, leave him there, and start +for Brussels at once. The rest we can do by +'phone. François set free—the boy the same. +Meanwhile, we've got to show this man Stapleton +we mean business; so we'd better arrange to send +him one of the kid's hands at once. If we don't, +he'll have the whole Paris police force after +us."</p> + +<p>"All right. I'll get him out." He strode +quickly over to the statue, pulled out the side, and +gazed blankly into the empty space before him.</p> + +<p>"Sacré! The child's gone!" he exclaimed, excitedly. +"Somebody has been here—in this room—since +I left it, half an hour ago."</p> + +<p>"The door was locked."</p> + +<p>"I know; but somebody's been here, nevertheless, +for the child is gone."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span>"He may not be gone, Durand. It is true that +he is no longer in the house; but he may be in +the room, for all that. Search the closet."</p> + +<p>The man named Durand stepped quickly to +the closet door. "Not much chance," he +grumbled. "And if the police knew that he was +here, and have spirited him away, they may even +now be waiting to spring a trap of which you and +I are the rats. For all we know the place is +surrounded at this very moment."</p> + +<p>"Then the sooner we get away from it the better. +Search the closet. If he's not there, we'd +better make tracks for the frontier as quickly as +possible. We can do nothing more without the +child. François will have to look out for himself."</p> + +<p>Durand went impatiently up to the closet +door and flung it open, then both he and his companion +recoiled in surprise as Grace stepped out, +holding the child by the hand.</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu!" gasped the two men in unison.</p> + +<p>The one who had worn the black beard was +the first to recover himself. "Quick!" he cried, +motioning toward Grace. "The woman is a detective. +Tie her up, and let's get away at once. +No doubt she has sent word to her friends. We<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span> +can't afford to stay here another minute." He +seemed greatly excited and, rushing to the window, +inspected the silent street below.</p> + +<p>Durand, meanwhile, had thrown himself upon +the girl, seized her hands, and with a quick motion +had secured them with a bit of cord he snatched +from within the closet.</p> + +<p>She offered no resistance, made no outcry. +Both seemed equally useless. The boy stood by, +watching the scene in childish wonder. So many +queer things had happened to him, however, during +the past few days, that he, too, remained +silent.</p> + +<p>In a moment the older man withdrew his head +from the window, rushed to the closet, and drawing +out a long gray coat, wrapped it about the +child. "You will come along with us, Mademoiselle," +he said sternly. "Make no attempt to +escape, if you value your life."</p> + +<p>"But what do we want with her?" the +younger man asked, impatiently.</p> + +<p>"You fool! Would you leave her here, to give +our description to the police? It would mean +certain capture in a few hours. This woman has +got to be put where she can do no harm until we +are safely over the frontier. It may be wiser to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span> +silence her altogether. We'll decide about that +when we reach Lavillac's. The first thing is to +get out of this house without losing a moment's +time. Come!" He started for the door.</p> + +<p>As he did so, Grace heard, far off, the steady +throbbing of an automobile. She felt a wave of +hope sweep over her. It might be her friends, +coming to her assistance. If so, they might yet +arrive in time.</p> + +<p>The two men evidently also heard the sound. +"Hurry—hurry!" the older one urged, as they +began to descend the stairs. "They may be on +us at any moment. Go out the rear way."</p> + +<p>Grace heard the sounds of the approaching +automobile growing more and more distinct. In +another minute it would stop before the door of +the house. But in that minute her captors would +not only have been able to descend the stairs, but +would already be making good their escape +through the garden at the rear of the building.</p> + +<p>She must do something, she knew, to prevent +this; but what—what? Bound as she was, how +could she hope to prevent the escape of these men. +She looked ahead of her, to where, a step or two +in advance, the man of the black beard was +hastily descending the stairs, the boy firmly held<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span> +in his arms. Behind her came his companion, +candle in hand, close at her heels.</p> + +<p>They were within half a dozen steps of the +lower hall. From this she could see a dark passageway, +leading to the rear of the house. +Already the noise of the automobile without told +her that it was stopping at the door. She heard +the sound of rapid footsteps on the sidewalk; yet +realized that, before her friends could break in, +their quarry would have flown.</p> + +<p>Without a moment's hesitation she sprang forward, +throwing her whole weight upon the man +in front of her.</p> + +<p>The sudden shock, as she precipitated herself +upon his shoulders, threw him off his balance, and +he pitched forward headlong into the hallway +below. The two of them, together with the +child, rolled in a tangled heap to the floor. The +second man, candle in hand, stopped on the stairs +and gazed helplessly down, not realizing for a +moment what had happened.</p> + +<p>"Help! Help!" Grace screamed at the top of +her voice, as she struggled to regain her feet, and +at the same moment there came the sound of +heavy blows upon the front door.</p> + +<p>The man who had been carrying the child rose<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span> +to his feet with an oath, just as his companion +joined him. He turned on Grace with a howl +of fury, and struck her a quick blow in the face. +She had a confused vision of fleeing men, the +dancing light of a candle, a rush of fresh air, and +then all was blotted out in a wave of oblivion.</p> + +<hr class="r15" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2> + +<p class="cap extraspacetop">THE startling and dramatic entrance of +Richard Duvall into Mr. Stapleton's +library, ending with his announcement of +the whereabouts of the kidnapped child, and his +subsequent collapse, threw the entire party into +confusion.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Stapleton started up with a scream, her +overwrought nerves no longer able to resist the +frightful strain under which she had for so many +days been laboring.</p> + +<p>Her husband, who had completely forgotten +the detective's presence in the house, in his anxious +vigil at the telephone, called out instantly to one +of the servants, ordering him to tell François to +bring his automobile to the door.</p> + +<p>Monsieur Lefevre, accompanied by Vernet, +sprang quickly to Duvall's assistance. The Prefect +felt that, if the latter's statement was correct, +he had won out in the long duel for the honor +of recovering the kidnapped child; but no consideration<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span> +of this nature could make him any less +concerned for the detective's welfare, or any the +less thankful that, no matter by whose efforts, +the missing child had at last been located. He +had hoped that to Grace Duvall would ultimately +fall the prize of success; but these things were, +after all, of no serious weight, compared with +the great fact, that the success had at last come.</p> + +<p>Assisted by Vernet, he placed Duvall upon a +couch, and called for brandy, and a basin of cold +water.</p> + +<p>In a few moments, under Vernet's skilful ministrations, +the detective's wound had been washed +and temporarily bound up, and he had been restored +to consciousness. A little of the brandy +soon served to dispel his faintness. He declared +himself ready to accompany the expedition to +Passy.</p> + +<p>The Prefect endeavored to dissuade him; but +to no purpose. The message which he had received +in the chauffeur's room, to the effect that +the person calling for help was Grace Duvall, +his own wife, seemed so mysterious, so utterly inexplicable +to him, that he could conceive no reasonable +explanation for it. There was but one +thing to do,—to go himself and sift the matter<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span> +to the bottom. He did not expect to find Grace +there, and yet—what else could the message +mean?</p> + +<p>Just as he staggered to his feet, with the announcement +that he would accompany the party +to Passy, two of the servants rushed into the +library, and with scared faces announced that +François lay, bound and unconscious, on the floor +of his room. Mr. Stapleton looked quickly at +Duvall.</p> + +<p>"It's all right, Mr. Stapleton," exclaimed the +detective. "The fellow is one of the gang." He +turned to Monsieur Lefevre. "You'd better have +him placed under arrest at once. And if your car +is here, we'll use that, instead of Mr. Stapleton's. +There's not a moment to be lost."</p> + +<p>"By all means. My automobile is at the door. +Vernet," he turned to his assistant, "have one of +your men take charge of this fellow François +at once. We must set out immediately."</p> + +<p>Mr. Stapleton took his wife in his arms, and +embraced her tenderly. "Don't worry, dear," he +said. "I'll be back with the boy, inside of half +an hour. Come along!" he shouted to the others, +as he made for the door. "No time to waste +now."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span>In a few moments the entire party, consisting +of Mr. Stapleton, Duvall, Monsieur Lefevre, Vernet, +and the Prefect's chauffeur, were driving toward +Passy at a rate which set at naught all speed +regulations and sent the few pedestrians who happened +to cross their path scampering to the sidewalk +for safety.</p> + +<p>Duvall explained, as they went along, the +mysterious messages which he had received +by flashlight. No one understood them but +Monsieur Lefevre. He gave a great sigh of +relief. The continued and unexplained absence +of Grace had alarmed him greatly. Now he +began to understand the reasons for it. That +part of Duvall's story which spoke of haste, the +appeal for prompt assistance, made him look +grave. He leaned over to his chauffeur and urged +him to even greater speed.</p> + +<p>The trees and houses along the Avenue Kleber, +and later the Rue Franklin, swept by the speeding +machine in a whirl of dust. In what seemed +an incredibly short time the automobile dashed +into the Rue Nicolo, and thundered up to No. 42.</p> + +<p>Vernet was the first to ascend the steps of the +house, closely followed by Duvall and the others +of the party. As they reached the front door,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span> +and rapped loudly, they all heard a sudden commotion +within, followed by cries and shouts and +a fall. Instantly all four threw their combined +weight against the door, shattering the lock and +bursting it in.</p> + +<p>The semidarkness showed a terrifying spectacle. +On the floor lay a woman, unconscious, +clutching in her arms a child, trapped in a long +gray coat. Down the dark hallway leading to +the rear of the house dashed the figures of two +men. One of them turned, as the attacking party +entered, and hurled the lighted candle which he +bore full into their faces. The entire scene was +instantly plunged into darkness.</p> + +<p>The momentary light of the candle, however, +had been sufficient to send a thrill of joy through +at least one of the entering party. Mr. Stapleton +recognized, in the white and tearful face of the +child, his kidnapped boy, and, stooping, raised him +tenderly in his arms.</p> + +<p>Duvall, not knowing whether the unconscious +woman was the supposed agent of the police, +Mademoiselle Goncourt, or Grace, his wife, lifted +her in his arms and carried her out into the air.</p> + +<p>Vernet, followed by the Prefect, and the chauffeur, +who had at once joined them, dashed fearlessly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span> +along the dark passage by which the two +men were attempting to escape.</p> + +<p>There was a crash, as the rear door was burst +out, followed by a volley of shots as Vernet opened +upon the fleeing men with his automatic revolver.</p> + +<p>In a moment the affair was over. The foremost +of the two men crumpled up before he had taken +half a dozen strides through the garden, and his +companion raised his hands and surrendered, begging +for mercy. Within a few moments he was +handcuffed, and Vernet, bending over his wounded +companion, was directing the chauffeur to summon +an ambulance at once.</p> + +<p>Monsieur Lefevre returned hastily to the street. +His sole concern now was for Grace. He prayed +fervently that no serious harm had befallen her, +and realized that Duvall was likely to resent bitterly +the deception which has been practised upon +him.</p> + +<p>The latter, however, was in no mood for recriminations. +No sooner had he carried his unconscious +burden to the street, when Grace opened +her eyes, threw her arms about his neck, and +kissed him.</p> + +<p>"Richard—Richard!" she cried, happily. "I'm<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span> +so glad—so glad!" then rested content in his +arms.</p> + +<p>The detective's brain was in a whirl. In no +possible way could he account for the presence +here, in Paris, under such tragic and inexplicable +circumstances, of the wife whom he had left, so +short a time before, peacefully sitting on the rosecovered +porch of their home in Maryland. The +thing seemed incredible, unbelievable; yet here +was Grace, with her soft arms about his neck, her +kisses on his lips, to prove its reality.</p> + +<p>He looked at Monsieur Lefevre dully as the +latter joined them upon the sidewalk, but could +say nothing.</p> + +<p>"It seems," remarked the Prefect, with a grave +smile, "that not only has Mr. Stapleton found his +boy, but you have found your wife."</p> + +<p>Duvall frowned. "What is she doing here?" +he asked.</p> + +<p>"We will speak of that later, my friend," observed +Lefevre, quietly. "Just at present I propose +that we return to Mr. Stapleton's without +a moment's delay. Her heart is breaking with +anxiety." He took Grace's arm and assisted her +to enter the automobile, where Mr. Stapleton had +already preceded them with his son. "It is to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span> +you, my dear child," he said to Grace, as she sunk +weakly back upon the cushioned seat, "that Mrs. +Stapleton will owe all her happiness."</p> + +<p>It was a cheerful party that broke in upon the +banker's wife a short time later. Duvall, under +the stimulus of Grace's presence, had completely +forgotten his wound; while Grace, who had been +but momentarily stunned by the blow which the +kidnapper had given her, was radiant with joy at +once more feeling her husband's arms about +her.</p> + +<p>Monsieur Lefevre carried them both off to his +house, as soon as the boy had been restored to +his mother. The happiness of the banker's reunited +family was too great to permit them to be +even mildly interested in the affairs of Richard +Duvall and his wife, and they, too, wished to be +alone. It seemed to them both as though ages +had passed since they had seen each other; they +could scarcely realize that it had been but a little +over two weeks. Richard especially seemed +unable to grasp the truth of the situation. He +plied Grace with numberless questions, and could +scarcely believe that he had actually been within +arm's length of her on at least four different occasions +during the past week without knowing it.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span>Monsieur Lefevre advised him to leave the +whole matter until the next day. "You should +be proud of your wife, Monsieur," he said, +gravely. "But for her, I doubt if Monsieur +Stapleton would ever have seen his boy again. +And that reminds me," he smiled mischievously, +"that I have won that little bet. It was Mademoiselle +Goncourt, of my office, that recovered +the lost child."</p> + +<p>"I think the honors are pretty evenly divided, +Monsieur," laughed Grace, happily, as she pressed +her husband's hand. "Don't forget that if +Richard hadn't gotten my message, all my work +would have gone for nothing."</p> + +<p>"Suppose we call it a draw, then," said the Prefect. +"All in the family, as you Americans say. +And to show that I am not prejudiced, one way or +the other, I suggest that you both, with Mr. and +Mrs. Stapleton, dine with me tomorrow evening. +There are many points connected with this case +which are by no means cleared up, and we should +talk them over. Although we have secured the +missing child, and three of the kidnappers, we +do not yet know how the child was stolen, or +whether the nurse, Mary Lanahan, is innocent or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span> +guilty of any part in his mysterious disappearance +in the Bois de Boulogne. I confess that I have all +along considered her guilty, and am inclined to +order her arrest at once."</p> + +<p>"It will be useless, Monsieur," remarked Duvall, +quietly. "She is entirely innocent."</p> + +<p>"You mean that she knows nothing of how the +boy was spirited away?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing!"</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu! Then the thing may forever remain +a mystery."</p> + +<p>"Not at all. It is simple enough."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Lefevre turned to him with a look +of inquiry. "You mean, then, that you have +solved it?"</p> + +<p>"I do."</p> + +<p>"Then may I ask that you will be good enough +to explain it at once?"</p> + +<p>Duvall laughed. "Monsieur Lefevre," he +said, "I have a splitting headache, a bad wound +in my cheek, and a burning desire to spend the +next two hours talking to my wife." He drew +Grace toward him, and put his arm through hers. +"I am very much afraid that the explanation of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span> +the disappearance of Mr. Stapleton's boy will +have to be put off until tomorrow."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Lefevre watched the two as they +went, arm in arm, up the stairs.</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu!" he said softly to himself. "They +are just as much in love with each other as +ever."</p> + +<hr class="r15" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XX</h2> + +<div class="cap">I MUST confess," remarked Monsieur Lefevre, +as he sat with Mr. Stapleton and +Duvall over their after dinner cigars the +following evening, "that while the case as a whole +appears simple enough to me, there are one or +two points that I fail to understand."</div> + +<p>"There are a great many that <i>I</i> fail to understand," +exclaimed the banker, chewing reflectively +on his cigar. "However, now that the boy +is safe at home, it really makes very little difference."</p> + +<p>"On the contrary, Mr. Stapleton," remarked +Duvall, "it makes a great deal of difference. +For instance, I understand that you have discharged +the nurse, Mary Lanahan."</p> + +<p>"Yes. You say that she is quite innocent of +any part in the kidnapping of my boy; but the fact +remains that I don't trust her. I am informed +that she was married to that fellow, Valentin, this +afternoon."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span>Duvall smiled. "That was quite to be expected."</p> + +<p>"At one time," said Mr. Stapleton, "you believed +this fellow Valentin to have been concerned +in the plot."</p> + +<p>"Yes. That is true. My early investigations +of the matter showed me at once that there was +some understanding between these two, something +which they were endeavoring to conceal. +I did not at first understand the motive which +actuated them. I thought it was guilt. In reality, +it was love. Therefore I am not surprised to +learn of their marriage." He gazed critically at +his cigar for a time, in silence.</p> + +<p>"As matters have turned out, gentlemen," he +resumed, after a few moments, "there is no cause +for anything but congratulation on all hands. +The child is recovered, the criminals are under +arrest, the money—the hundred thousand dollars +you paid out, Mr. Stapleton—was found +on the kidnapper's person and returned to +you."</p> + +<p>"Exactly. Nothing could be more satisfactory +all around."</p> + +<p>"And yet," went on the detective, "I have never +before taken part in a case in which I have done<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span> +so little, in which I have been so uniformly unsuccessful."</p> + +<p>Mr. Stapleton raised his hand. "My dear Duvall," +he began, "but for you, we should have +been nowhere."</p> + +<p>"You are wrong, my friend. Had I kept out +of the case altogether, your son would have been +returned to you just the same. It is true that +the men who kidnapped him would not have been +caught, and your money would not have been +returned to you; but the prime object which you +sought, the recovery of your child, would have +been realized in any event."</p> + +<p>"That is true," remarked the Prefect; "but, +from the standpoint of the police, it is the detection +and capture of the criminal that is desired, +not the buying of him off. By insisting on that, +Mr. Stapleton, you rendered our work extremely +difficult."</p> + +<p>"So difficult, indeed," said Duvall, earnestly, +"that but for the energy, the courage, the wit of +a woman, all our plans would have failed. I +refer to my wife. It is to her that all the credit +in this affair is due."</p> + +<p>"By all means!" said Mr. Stapleton. "I could +not fail to realize, when she told her story at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span> +dinner tonight, how much Mrs. Stapleton and myself +owe her. I shall have something to say on +the subject of our debt, as soon as the ladies +rejoin us. But tell us, Mr. Duvall, a little more +about the case, as you now understand it. +I confess that I am becoming more and more interested. +What, for instance, was the mystery, +if indeed there was any, connected with the box +of gold-tipped cigarettes?"</p> + +<p>Duvall smiled. "That, my dear sir, is in +fact the crux, the starting point, of the whole +affair." He settled back in his chair comfortably. +"Otherwise the case was simple enough. Certain +scoundrels steal a child, hold it for ransom, and +frighten the parents into paying over a large sum. +Nothing unusual in that. A clever scheme or two +for turning the money over, and returning the +child—simple, yet perfect enough to defy all attempts +to foil them.</p> + +<p>"The real mystery lay in the utter absence of +any clues which would throw light on the actual +stealing of the child. In this respect the case +was unique. A trusted nurse swears that the +child has disappeared in broad daylight, without +the slightest knowledge of how it was accomplished. +Here we have a case so simple, so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span> +devoid of incident of any sort, that we are baffled +at the very start by the impossibility of the thing. +Yet the nurse is a woman of good reputation, +honest, clearly telling what she believes to be the +truth.</p> + +<p>"But a single clue existed upon which I could +build the least semblance of a case. I refer to +the half-smoked cigarette with the gold tip, which +I discovered in the grass at the scene of the crime. +Without that apparently trivial clue, the criminals +would in all probability never have been captured +at all."</p> + +<p>"But," exclaimed Mr. Stapleton, "I don't see +how you make that out."</p> + +<p>"Nor I," observed the Prefect.</p> + +<p>"No. I suppose not. And yet, it is simple +enough. That half-smoked cigarette and nothing +else is the basic reason for the arrest of the three +men now in your hands."</p> + +<p>Monsieur Lefevre smiled. "Be good enough," +he said, "to explain."</p> + +<p>"Very well, I will. But first, let me indicate +to you my course of reasoning. When I originally +found the cigarette, I regarded it as of very small +value, from the standpoint of evidence. It happened +to be lying in the grass at the point where<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span> +the crime occurred; but during the week or more +which had elapsed between the stealing of the +boy and my examination of the ground, a hundred +people might have walked over the spot. I took +it, because I realized that it <i>might</i> have a bearing +on the case, and I have learned to discard no clue, +however trifling it may appear, until it has been +proven valueless.</p> + +<p>"Now to go back to the cigarette, I observed +at once that it was of American make, yet of such +small size as to have been either used by a woman, +or by a man of rather effeminate taste.</p> + +<p>"Now if the cigarette had been used by a +woman, it meant one of two things. Either it +was used by Mary Lanahan herself, in which case +it apparently proved nothing, or by some other +woman who was there with her, and who might +have had a hand in the kidnapping.</p> + +<p>"On the other hand, if used by a man, it pointed +clearly to the chauffeur, Valentin, for several +reasons. He was a friend, a former lover, of the +nurse. He had been discharged by Mr. Stapleton +for dishonesty. He was, I had reason to know, +of rather a weak and effeminate type. The cigarette +was of American make, and he had but recently +come from America. These things pointed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span> +to Valentin. The fact that the nurse was in love +with him would cause her to shield him. I determined +to try the matter out at once.</p> + +<p>"As soon as I returned to the house, therefore, +I confronted her, and asked her if Valentin +smoked gold-tipped cigarettes. I did this, not +because I expected to get any reply of value, but +because I wished to observe her manner, her face, +when I flung the question at her.</p> + +<p>"She was greatly startled. She denied that +Valentin smoked. Fifteen minutes later, she sent +him a message to destroy the cigarettes.</p> + +<p>"I at once concluded that they were working +together, and were both guilty, a conclusion in +which, however much I was justified by the evidence, +I was quite wrong.</p> + +<p>"Then came the attempt on the part of someone—the +man with the black beard, I am told—to +steal the cigarettes from Valentin. I learned +that the man was followed to Mr. Stapleton's +house.</p> + +<p>"This at once threw a new light upon the matter, +although I will admit a confusing one. Someone +else, besides the nurse, desired the box of +cigarettes removed as evidence; someone, in fact, +who belonged to, or had friends in, the house.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span> +Who could this be? I could think of no one, outside +of Mary Lanahan herself, but the chauffeur, +François."</p> + +<p>"Why did you first suspect him?" asked Mr. +Stapleton.</p> + +<p>"Because he was the only person, besides the +nurse, who was present at the time of the kidnapping. +I did not abandon my suspicions of +either the nurse or Valentin. I fully believed +that they knew a great deal more about the affair +than they admitted. But I became convinced that +François, too, was in the thing. He had testified +that he was asleep when the affair occurred. I +concluded at once that he was lying.</p> + +<p>"At the first opportunity, therefore, I made a +thorough search of his room, and found the box +of cigarettes hidden in a clock on his mantel."</p> + +<p>"Ha! I did not know that," exclaimed the +Prefect. "What were they doing there?"</p> + +<p>"I concluded that the fellow with the black +beard who stole them from Valentin, in order to +prevent their use as evidence against him, turned +them over to François for a definite purpose."</p> + +<p>"And that purpose was?"</p> + +<p>"Their use in subsequent crimes of a similar +nature."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span>Mr. Stapleton and the Prefect gazed at Duvall +in bewilderment. "Explain yourself, my friend," +exclaimed the latter. "I confess I do not understand +what you are talking about. Who, may I +ask, really smoked the cigarette, the remains of +which you found in the grass?"</p> + +<p>"Mary Lanahan," said the detective, with a +smile.</p> + +<p>"The nurse! Name of a dog! Then I fail +to see that the matter is of the slightest importance +one way or the other."</p> + +<p>"On the contrary, Monsieur, it is of the greatest +importance. May I ask whether you are, by +any chance, familiar with the properties of an +Eastern drug, made from hemp, and generally +known as hashish?"</p> + +<p>The Prefect sat up suddenly, and clapped his +hands to his knees. "Mon Dieu!" he exclaimed. +"Now I begin to understand."</p> + +<p>"More than I do," said Mr. Stapleton.</p> + +<p>"The cigarettes were drugged, that is all," +went on Duvall. "The men who planned this +thing went to work very carefully. They ascertained, +through François, that Mary Lanahan was +in the habit, no doubt on the sly, of using cigarettes. +I discovered the fact, myself, before I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span> +left New York. They also learned that she +smoked the same brand as Mrs. Stapleton herself +used. No doubt she helped herself from Mrs. +Stapleton's supply. They therefore secured, also +through François, a box of these cigarettes, and +had them heavily drugged with hashish. The box +of drugged cigarettes was substituted, later on, +for her own."</p> + +<p>"But," exclaimed Mr. Stapleton, "how could +Mary Lanahan swear that she turned away but +a moment—that no one came near her?"</p> + +<p>"When Mary Lanahan testified that, she believed +that she was telling the truth. The hashish +had simply destroyed her conception of the passage +of time."</p> + +<p>"Is that its effect?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. It produces a delightful languor, a +stupor in which all realization of the passage of +time ceases. Sometimes, to those who use the +drug, it may apparently require hours to walk +a few yards. To make a momentary movement +of the hand may seem to take many minutes. On +the other hand, in the stupor which the drug +induces, hours may be spent in the contemplation +of a flower, a bit of scenery, the page of a +book, without any realization on the part of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span> +user that more than a few seconds have elapsed. +That is what happened to Mary Lanahan. She +inhaled a few puffs of the cigarette, heavily +charged with the drug; without knowing, of +course, of its presence. She probably passed at +once into a state of stupor which may have extended +over fifteen minutes or more. She was not +unconscious. She sat upon the grass, looking +off toward the distant sky, in a waking dream, +not unlike a trance, in which all the world about +her—the world of sound, of movement—had +simply ceased to exist. She was to all intents and +purposes unconscious of what was going on about +her. The kidnapper, whom I strongly suspect +to be François, merely strolled up behind her, +picked up the boy, and walked off with him."</p> + +<p>The detective's listeners looked at him in astonishment. +Presently Mr. Stapleton spoke. +"Why do you think it was François?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, for many reasons. Had he, on approaching, +found the nurse not sufficiently under +the influence of the drug, he could have pretended +to wish to speak to her, on some trivial matter. +Again, the child would go away with him of +course without making an outcry, which he would +probably not have done, with a stranger. There<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span> +are other reasons. He no doubt took the boy +to the road, and handed him to his confederates, +passing in another car. The affair occurred, you +will remember, in a little frequented part of the +Bois.</p> + +<p>"The subsequent actions of Mary Lanahan +are a trifle difficult to account for; but I suppose +them to have been as follows: On slowly coming +out of her stupor, and realizing that the boy +was gone, she was terribly frightened. It had +seemed to her but a moment since she turned +away. She fears that the cigarette has made her +drowsy—she has heard that they sometimes contain +opium. She thinks she may have dozed off; +but is not willing to admit it. Especially does +she not want her employers to know that she uses +cigarettes. She fears that such knowledge would +cost her her place. It is not until later that she +begins to suspect the cigarettes."</p> + +<p>"When is that?" inquired Lefevre.</p> + +<p>"Several days later, when she is supposed to +have been poisoned. She was with Valentin at +the time; although, on account of Mr. Stapleton's +dislike for him, she feared to admit it. She +smokes another of the cigarettes, while sitting on +a bench with him, in the Champs Élysées. Suddenly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span> +she is taken ill—a frequent result of hashish, +when taken in excessive doses, or by one +otherwise nervously upset. Valentin takes the +box, puts her into a cab, and goes to his room, +where he leaves the cigarettes. No doubt, as she +begins to feel ill, she discusses with him the possibility +of the cigarettes having been poisoned. It +is for that reason that she gives them to him.</p> + +<p>"Her sudden message to Valentin to destroy +them arose from a fear that I would discover +the part which they had played in the boy's loss. +This would, she knew, not only cost her her place, +but would make her, in a way, responsible for the +entire affair. She feared Mr. Stapleton's wrath, +and therefore both she and Valentin remained +dumb, so far as the cigarettes were concerned.</p> + +<p>"They both, however, were all this time doing +their best to find the child. Her message to Valentin, +that she was suspicious of François, telling +Valentin to watch him, arose no doubt from a +realization that the box of drugged cigarettes +had been substituted for her own by the chauffeur.</p> + +<p>"Valentin, acting on her advice, does watch +François, as his presence clinging to the rear of +the latter's car the other night has proved. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span> +tells me, today, that François did not take his +car to the garage that night at all. The men +there who so testified lied, at his request, supposing +it merely an excuse to cover a joy ride.</p> + +<p>"François, not wishing that the drugged cigarettes +should remain in the nurse's hands as evidence +against him, evidently made an attempt to +recover them, discovered that she had turned +them over to Valentin, and, being watched himself, +sent word of the matter to his confederate, +the fellow who went about in the black beard. He +must have been admitted to Mr. Stapleton's house +that night by François himself.</p> + +<p>"I came to the conclusion, early in the course +of my investigations, that the cigarette, the end +of which I had found in the Bois, had been +smoked by Mary Lanahan, and I so told Mr. +Stapleton."</p> + +<p>The banker nodded. "Yes," he said; "but +you did not then say anything about the hashish."</p> + +<p>"I was not certain of it. I intended to have +the fragment I had found analyzed. When I +discovered the cigarettes in François' room, you +will remember that I took one of them. I smoked +that cigarette, before going to bed that night. +It produced exactly the sensations that Mary Lanahan<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span> +must have felt. I floated away in the land +of dreams for over half an hour, and came to +with no recollection whatever of the passage of +time. It is a remarkable drug, but an extremely +dangerous one.</p> + +<p>"After that, the case became simple enough. I +knew at once, beyond any question, that François +was one of the kidnappers. My plans last night +would have worked perfectly, but for the chauffeur's +accidental discovery of me, hiding in the +closet. Had that not happened, the boy would +have been returned, according to program, and +François I had safely in my hands."</p> + +<p>"But we wouldn't have got the others," laughed +the Prefect. "You must thank your wife for that. +Vernet has told me how the kidnappers outwitted +you at the Avenue Malakoff. The car from which +the signal apparently was made contained a well +known stockbroker, who knew nothing of the +matter at all. He merely happened to be passing +the Avenue Malakoff at the precise moment when +the signal was given to François."</p> + +<p>"You are mistaken, Monsieur," observed the +detective, quietly. "The signal was undoubtedly +made from that car; not by Monsieur Lemaitre, +I will admit, but by his chauffeur. He has admitted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span> +to Vernet that a stranger paid him fifty +francs to do so, on the plea that it was some signal +to a woman. The man knows nothing of the +affair, beyond that."</p> + +<p>As he finished speaking, there was a ripple of +laughter from the hall, and Mrs. Stapleton, +Madame Lefevre, and Grace came in.</p> + +<p>"We have been debating a most important question," +said Mrs. Stapleton, with an assumption of +extreme gravity, "and we beg that you, Monsieur +Lefevre, will be so good as to decide it."</p> + +<p>"What is this question so grave, Madame," inquired +the Prefect, rising, with a smile. "I am all +impatience to hear it."</p> + +<p>"The question is this, Monsieur Lefevre: +Which deserves the greater credit for the recovery +of my boy—Mr. Duvall, or his charming +wife?"</p> + +<p>The Prefect stepped forward, placed one hand +affectionately upon Duvall's shoulder, and with +the other grasped Grace by the arm.</p> + +<p>"The question you propound, Madame," he +said, looking from the detective to his wife with +a smile, "is easily answered. The credit belongs +equally to both. And that, my children, is as it +should be. This affair, so happily terminated,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span> +has taught me one important lesson. It is this: +The husband and the wife should never be in +opposition to each other. They must work +together always, not only in matters of this +sort, but in all the affairs of life. I attempted a +risky experiment in allowing these two dear +friends of mine to attack this case from opposite +sides. But for some very excellent strokes of +luck, it might have resulted most unhappily for all +concerned. Hereafter, should Monsieur Duvall +and his wife serve me, it must be together, or not +at all." He turned to Grace. "I feel that I +owe you both a great debt, my child, for having +once again so rudely interrupted the course of +your honeymoon. What reparation can I make? +Ask of me what you will."</p> + +<p>"Anything?" inquired Grace, laughing.</p> + +<p>"Anything." The Prefect bowed gallantly.</p> + +<p>"Then I demand your promise, Monsieur, to +visit us at our place in Maryland, before the end +of the year."</p> + +<p class="extraspacebot">"That," exclaimed the Prefect, as he bent and +kissed her hand, "would be the most delightful +way of paying a debt that I could possibly +imagine."</p> + +<hr class="r65" /> +<hr class="r65" /> + + +<p class="center"><small>STORIES OF RARE CHARM BY</small><br /> + +GENE STRATTON-PORTER</p> + +<p class="center">May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list.</p> + +<p>THE HARVESTER</p> + +<p>Illustrated by W. L. Jacobs</p> + +<div class="figleft" > +<img src="images/ad01.jpg" width="60" height="81" alt="book image" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>"The Harvester," David Langston, is +a man of the woods and fields, who draws +his living from the prodigal hand of Mother +Nature herself. If the book had nothing in +it but the splendid figure of this man, with +his sure grip on life, his superb optimism, +and his almost miraculous knowledge of +nature secrets, it would be notable. But +when the Girl comes to his "Medicine +Woods," and the Harvester's whole sound, +healthy, large outdoor being realizes that +this is the highest point of life which has +come to him—there begins a romance, +troubled and interrupted, yet of the rarest idyllic quality.</p> + + +<p>FRECKLES. Decorations by E. Stetson Crawford</p> + +<p>Freckles is a nameless waif when the tale opens, but the way in +which he takes hold of life; the nature of the friendships he forms in the +great Limberlost swamp; the manner in which everyone who meets +him succumbs to the charm of his engaging personality; and his love-story +with "The Angel" are full of real sentiment.</p> + + +<p>A GIRL OF THE LIMBERLOST.</p> + +<p>Illustrated by Wladyslaw T. Brenda.</p> + +<p>The story of a girl of the Michigan woods; a buoyant, lovable +type of the self-reliant American. Her philosophy is one of love and +kindness towards all things; her hope is never dimmed. And by the +sheer beauty of her soul, and the purity of her vision, she wins from +barren and unpromising surroundings those rewards of high courage.</p> + +<p>It is an inspiring story of a life worth while and the rich beauties +of the out-of-doors are strewn through all its pages.</p> + + +<p>AT THE FOOT OF THE RAINBOW.</p> + +<p>Illustrations in colors by Oliver Kemp. Design and decorations by +Ralph Fletcher Seymour.</p> + +<p>The scene of this charming, idyllic love story is laid in Central +Indiana. The story is one of devoted friendship, and tender self-sacrificing +love; the friendship that gives freely without return, and +the love that seeks first the happiness of the object. The novel is +brimful of the most beautiful word painting of nature, and its pathos +and tender sentiment will endear it to all.</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>Ask for complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction</i></p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West 26th St., New York</span></p> + +<hr class="r65" /> + +<p class="center"><small>GROSSET & DUNLAP'S</small><br /> + +DRAMATIZED NOVELS</p> + +<p>THE KIND THAT ARE MAKING THEATRICAL HISTORY</p> + +<p>May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list</p> + + +<p>WITHIN THE LAW. By Bayard Veiller & Marvin Dana. +Illustrated by Wm. Charles Cooke.</p> + +<p>This is a novelization of the immensely successful play which ran +for two years in New York and Chicago.</p> + +<p>The plot of this powerful novel is of a young woman's revenge +directed against her employer who allowed her to be sent to prison +for three years on a charge of theft, of which she was innocent.</p> + + +<p>WHAT HAPPENED TO MARY. By Robert Carlton Brown. +Illustrated with scenes from the play.</p> + +<p>This is a narrative of a young and innocent country girl who is +suddenly thrown into the very heart of New York, "the land of her +dreams," where she is exposed to all sorts of temptations and dangers.</p> + +<p>The story of Mary is being told in moving pictures and played in +theatres all over the world.</p> + + +<p>THE RETURN OF PETER GRIMM. By David Belasco. +Illustrated by John Rae.</p> + +<p>This is a novelization of the popular play in which David Warfield, +as Old Peter Grimm, scored such a remarkable success.</p> + +<p>The story is spectacular and extremely pathetic but withal, +powerful, both as a book and as a play.</p> + + +<p>THE GARDEN OF ALLAH. By Robert Hichens.</p> + +<p>This novel is an intense, glowing epic of the great desert, sunlit +barbaric, with its marvelous atmosphere of vastness and loneliness.</p> + +<p>It is a book of rapturous beauty, vivid in word painting. The play +has been staged with magnificent cast and gorgeous properties.</p> + + +<p>BEN HUR. A Tale of the Christ. By General Lew Wallace.</p> + +<p>The whole world has placed this famous Religious-Historical Romance +on a height of pre-eminence which no other novel of its time +has reached. The clashing of rivalry and the deepest human passions, +the perfect reproduction of brilliant Roman life, and the tense, fierce +atmosphere of the arena have kept their deep fascination. A tremendous +dramatic success.</p> + + +<p>BOUGHT AND PAID FOR. By George Broadhurst and Arthur +Hornblow. Illustrated with scenes from the play.</p> + +<p>A stupendous arraignment of modern marriage which has created +an interest on the stage that is almost unparalleled. The scenes are laid +in New York, and deal with conditions among both the rich and poor.</p> + +<p>The interest of the story turns on the day-by-day developments +which show the young wife the price she has paid.</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>Ask for complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction</i></p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West 26th St., New York</span></p> + +<hr class="r65" /> + +<p class="center"><b>Transcriber Notes</b></p> + +<p class="blockquote"> +Obvious punctuation and spelling errors have been corrected.<br /> + +<b>page 291</b> Original: he is no longer in the horse; but he may be in<br /> + +Replaced: he is no longer in the house; but he may be in<br /> + +<b>page 256</b> Original: The man seemed hurried. He grouped his way<br /> + +Replaced: The man seemed hurried. He groped his way +</p> + +<hr class="r65" /> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Blue Lights, by Arnold Fredericks + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BLUE LIGHTS *** + +***** This file should be named 38577-h.htm or 38577-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/5/7/38577/ + +Produced by Dianna Adair, Suzanne Shell, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +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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