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diff --git a/44670-0.txt b/44670-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4443bf9 --- /dev/null +++ b/44670-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4754 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44670 *** + + DOROTHY DIXON + + and the Double Cousin + + BY + + Dorothy Wayne + + Author of + Dorothy Dixon Solves the Conway Case + Dorothy Dixon and The Mystery Plane + Dorothy Dixon Wins Her Wings + + THE GOLDSMITH PUBLISHING COMPANY + CHICAGO + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + Copyright, 1933 + + The Goldsmith Publishing Company + MADE IN U.S.A. + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + To + Dorothea Hetty Gutmann + + a New Canaan schoolgirl, who + loves our beautiful Ridge + Country, and whose fox terrier, + Professor, really ate the dictionary! + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + CONTENTS + + I The Encounter 15 + II “Family Affairs” 27 + III The Sleepwalker 39 + IV Meet Flash! 55 + V On Secret Service 67 + VI Who’s Who? 79 + VII Playing a Part 91 + VIII “Walk Into My Parlor” 104 + IX In the Night 116 + X Surprises 127 + XI Gretchen 142 + XII Tests 156 + XIII Winnite 168 + XIV Professor 179 + XV Tea and Orders 199 + XVI Caught in the Act 212 + XVII Professor Makes Good 228 + XVIII The Christmas Spirit 246 + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + DOROTHY DIXON AND THE DOUBLE COUSIN + + Chapter I + + THE ENCOUNTER + + +“Why—good heavens, girl! How in the world did you escape?” + +Dorothy Dixon heard the low, eager whisper at her elbow but disregarded +it. She was intent on selecting a tie from the colorful rack on the +counter before her. She spoke to the clerk: + +“I’ll take this one, and that’ll make four. I hope Daddy will approve my +taste in Christmas presents,” she smiled, and laid a bill on her +purchases. + +“But—please, dear, tell me! Don’t you know I’m worried crazy? Who let +you out?” + +This time Dorothy felt a touch on her arm. She wheeled quickly to face a +tall, slender young fellow of twenty-two or three. As she stared at him, +half indignant, half wondering, she saw sincere distress in his brown +eyes, and in the lines of his pleasant face. Hat in hand, he waited +anxiously for an answer to his question, while the crowd of holiday +shoppers poured through the aisles about them. + +Dorothy’s eyes softened, then danced. “It seems to me,” she said, “that +you have the wires twisted—it’s not I who’ve escaped, but you! Run +along now and find your keeper. You’re evidently in need of one!” + +“Your change and package, miss,” the impersonal voice of the +haberdashery clerk intervened and Dorothy turned back to the counter. + +“But why on earth are you acting this way, Janet?” The strange young man +was at her elbow again. + +Once more Dorothy turned swiftly toward him but when she spoke her eyes +and voice were serious. “Do you really mean to say you think you’re +speaking to Janet Jordan? Because—” + +“My dear—what are you trying to tell me?” He broke in impatiently. “I +certainly ought to know the girl I’m going to marry!” + +Dorothy nodded slowly. “I agree with you—you ought to—but then, you +see, you _don’t_!” + +The young man crushed his soft felt hat in his hands and took a step +nearer to her. “Look here—what _is_ the matter with you? I know you’ve +been through a lot, but—” He broke off abruptly, a gleam of horror and +suspicion in his honest eyes. “Janet! What have they done to you?” + +Dorothy laid a firm hand on his arm. “Sh! Be quiet—listen to me.” Then +she added gently—“I am _not_ Janet Jordan, your fiancee.” + +“You’re not—!” + +“No. My name is Dorothy Dixon—and I’m Janet’s first cousin.” + +The young man seemed flabbergasted for a moment. Then he +stammered—“Wh-why, it’s astounding—the resemblance, I mean! You’re +alike as—as two peas. If you were twins—” + +“But you see,” she smiled, “our mothers, Janet’s and mine, _were_ twins, +and I guess that accounts for it. I’ve never seen Janet, but this is the +third time, just recently, that I’ve been taken for her by her friends, +Mr.—?” + +“My name is Bright,” he supplied. “Howard Bright. Yes, now I can see a +slight difference, Miss Dixon. You’re a bit taller and broader across +the shoulders than she is. But it’s your personalities, more than +anything else, that are altogether unlike. I hope you’ll forgive me, +Miss Dixon, for making a nuisance of myself!” + +“No indeed—that is, of course I will!” Dorothy laughed merrily. “You’re +not a nuisance, you know, but,” and her tone became grave, “I can see +that you’re in trouble. Is there—” she hesitated. + +“Not I, Miss Dixon—that is, not directly. But,” he lowered his voice, +“Janet is—is in very serious trouble. And for a moment, when I saw you, +I thought that in some miraculous way she had escaped.” + +Howard Bright’s face suddenly became almost haggard and Dorothy’s +sympathy and concern for her cousin deepened into resolve. + +“Look here, Mr. Bright,” she said abruptly, “we can’t talk here, in this +shopping crowd, it’s a regular football scrimmage. Let’s go up to the +mezzanine. A friend of mine is waiting there for me now, I’m a little +late as it is, and—” + +“But I can’t bother _you_ with this,” he protested, “and especially—” + +“Oh, come along,” she urged, “Bill is a grand guy when it comes to +getting people out of messes. I insist you tell us all about it. After +all, Janet’s my cousin, you know, and you’ll soon be a member of the +family, won’t you?” + +“There doesn’t seem much hope of that now.” Young Bright’s tone was +despondent. “But Janet certainly does need help, and she needs it +badly—so—” + +Dorothy caught his arm. “I’m going to call you Howard,” she announced +briskly. “So please drop the Miss Dixon. And come on—let’s push our way +over to the elevators.” + +The mezzanine floor of the department store was arranged as a lounge or +waiting room for customers. Comfortable arm chairs and divans invited +tired shoppers to rest. Writing desks and tables strewn with current +magazines gave the place a club-like appearance. + +Dorothy and her newly found acquaintance stepped out of the elevator and +looked about. The place seemed especially quiet after the rush and +bustle on other floors, and was almost deserted, save for two elderly +ladies conversing in low tones near a window, and a young man, who rose +at their approach. + +As the good looking youth moved toward them with the lithe, easy grace +of a trained athlete, Howard Bright saw that he had light brown hair, +and blue eyes snapping with vitality and cheerfulness. + +“Hello, Dorothy!” He greeted her smilingly, “better late than never, if +you don’t mind my saying so. I’d just about figured you were going to +pass up our date.” + +“Sorry, Colonel,” she mocked. “Explanations are in order I guess, but +they can wait. This is Howard Bright, Bill—Howard, Mr. Bolton!” + +The two young men shook hands. + +“Bolton—Dixon?” Howard’s tone was thoughtful. “Why!” he exclaimed +suddenly. “You two are the flyers—the pair who won the endurance test +with the Conway motor! I’m certainly glad to meet you both. The papers +have been full of your doings. Well, this is a surprise! But you know, +I’d got the impression that you were both older—” + +“I’m sixteen,” smiled Dorothy. “Bill has me beat by a year.” + +“How about lunch?” suggested Bill. He invariably changed the subject +when his exploits were mentioned. People always enthused so, it +embarrassed him. “You’ll join us, of course, Mr. Bright?” + +“Thanks, Mr. Bolton. I really don’t think I can butt in this way—” + +“There’s no butting in about it,” Dorothy interrupted. “Howard is +engaged to my cousin, Janet Jordan, Bill. And Janet’s in a lot of +trouble. I’ve promised we’d do everything we can to help.” + +Bill, after one look at Howard’s worried face, sized up the situation +instantly. “Why, of course,” he said. “And we can’t talk with any +privacy in this place. I can see that whatever the trouble is, it’s +serious.” + +“Janet’s in desperate peril,” Howard said huskily. + +“You said something about her escape when we met,” Dorothy reminded him. +“Has somebody kidnapped her? Have you any idea where she is?” + +“Yes, she’s a prisoner. A prisoner in the Jordans’ apartment on West +93rd Street.” + +“Then her father is away?” + +“No. He leaves tonight, I believe.” + +“But, my goodness!—a girl can’t be kidnapped and made a prisoner in her +own home. Especially if her father is there. It doesn’t sound possible.” + +“I know it doesn’t,” admitted Howard desperately, “it sounds crazy. But +it’s the truth, just the same. She’s in frightful danger.” + +Dorothy looked horrified. “You mean that my uncle and Janet don’t get on +together—that they’ve had a row and you’re afraid he will harm her?” + +“Oh, no, they’re very fond of each other.” + +“Then Uncle Michael is a prisoner, too!” + +“No, he is free enough himself, but he can do nothing—it would only +make matters worse.” + +“Well!” declared Dorothy, “I don’t think much of Uncle Michael if he +can’t protect his own daughter.” + +Bill stepped into the breach. + +“What about the police—can’t you call them in?” + +Howard Bright shook his head. “They would only bring this horrible +business to a climax,” he explained. “And that is exactly what must not +be done. It is more a matter for Secret Service investigation—but I +don’t think that even they could be of any real help.” + +Bill and Dorothy exchanged a quick glance. + +“Have you ever heard of a man named Ashton Sanborn, Mr. Bright?” + +“Yes, I have, Mr. Bolton. Wasn’t he the detective who helped you unearth +that fiendish scheme of old Professor Fanely?”[1] + +“Bull’s eye!” grinned Bill. “Only Ashton Sanborn is quite a lot more +than a mere detective. And it so happens that he is over at the Waldorf +right now, waiting for Dorothy and me to lunch with him. Let me tell +you, Bright, it’s a mighty lucky thing for Janet Jordan that he is in +town. Come along. We’ll hop a taxi and be with him in ten minutes.” + +Howard hung back. “But really—” + +Dorothy caught his arm. “Don’t be silly, now,” she urged. + +“But I can’t call in a detective, Dorothy. I know I’m rotten at +explaining, but if these devils who have Janet in their power are +interfered with they will kill her out of hand!” + +“But you spoke of the Secret Service just now. This is not for +publication, but Mr. Sanborn is the head of that branch of the +government. If anyone _can_ help Janet, he can do it.” + +“I doubt it. I admit I’m half crazy with worry, but Janet is going to be +removed from the apartment tonight, and heaven only knows what will +happen then. It takes days, generally weeks, to get the government +started on anything.” + +“Not Sanborn’s branch of it,” interrupted Bill. “We’re talking in +circles, Bright. If Sanborn can’t help Janet, he’ll tell you so. At +least you can give him the dope and find out. He’s an expert and you’ll +get expert advice.” + +“All right, I’ll go with you. But I’m afraid it won’t do any good. +Please don’t think, though, that I’m not appreciating the interest +you’re taking. I don’t mean to be a wet blanket.” + +“Of course you don’t, and you’re not.” Dorothy led toward the staircase. +“You’ll feel a whole lot better when you get the story off your chest.” + +“And when you’ve got outside a good substantial lunch,” added Bill. “I +know I shall, anyway.” + +“That,” said Dorothy, “is just like a boy. I believe you’d eat a good +meal, Bill, an hour before you were hung, if it were offered to you.” + +“I’d be hanged if I didn’t,” he laughed and followed her down the steps +onto the main floor. + +----- + +Footnote 1: + + See Bill Bolton and The Winged Cartwheels. + + + + + Chapter II + + “FAMILY AFFAIRS” + + +“Just—one—moment, please!” Ashton Sanborn’s keen blue eyes twinkled as +he surveyed his young guests. His heavy-set body moved with a muscular +grace as he placed a chair for Dorothy and motioned the two boys to +seats on a divan nearby. “Now then, Dorothy and Bill—I want you two +chatterboxes to keep quiet while I ask Mr. Bright some questions and get +this matter straight in my own head. Your turn to talk will come later.” +His quizzical smile robbed the words of any harshness, and the culprits +grinned and nodded their willingness to comply with his request. + +“Mr. Bright,” he went on, “if you’ll just answer my questions for the +present, I’ll get you to tell the story from the beginning in a few +minutes.” + +“It’s mighty decent of you to take all this interest, Mr. Sanborn.” + +The Secret Service Man shook his prematurely grey head—“It’s my +business to ferret things out. Now, as I understand it, you mistook +Dorothy for her cousin, Miss Jordan, to whom you are engaged. The +likeness must be amazing?” + +“It is, sir.” + +“Yes—well, we’ll get back to the likeness after a while. You say that +Miss Jordan is a prisoner in her father’s apartment, and is in danger of +her life?” + +“Yes, sir.” Howard, tense and taut as a fiddle string, his hands +gripping the edge of the cushioned couch, gazed steadily back at his +questioner. + +“Do you know for certain that she is in actual danger at the present +moment, Bright?” Ashton Sanborn’s quiet tone and unhurried manner of +speaking was gradually gaining the young man’s confidence. Bill and +Dorothy noticed that Howard’s strained look was beginning to disappear, +and he had started to relax. + +“She has been in great danger,” he replied, “but now, they’ve decided to +test her. There isn’t a chance, though, that she will pass the test, Mr. +Sanborn. The poor girl is so worn out and nervous she’s bound to fail.” + +“Do you know what time she is to be taken away from the apartment?” + +“Yes, sir. Lawson told her to pack her clothes today, so as to be ready +to leave at midnight.” + +“Mmm!” Sanborn glanced at his watch. “It is now one-thirty. That gives +us exactly eleven and a half hours in which to get her out of their +hands. Now just one question more, Mr. Bright. What made you say that +this is a matter in which the so-called Secret Service of the United +States should be called in, rather than the police?” + +“Well,” Howard’s brows knit in a puzzled frown, “you see, Janet is being +taken to Dr. Tyson Winn’s house near Ridgefield, Connecticut, tonight. +As I understand it, Dr. Winn has a big laboratory up there where he is +experimenting on high explosives for the government. Lawson, the man who +told Janet she was to go there, is Dr. Winn’s secretary. It all looks so +queer to me—I thought—” + +“That _is_ interesting!” Ashton Sanborn’s tone was serious and for a +little while he seemed lost in thought. Then abruptly he looked up from +an inspection of his finger tips, and rose from his chair. “I ordered +lunch for three before you young people arrived,” he said with a return +of his cheerful, hearty way of speaking. “Now I’ll phone down and have +lunch for four served up here instead.” He looked at Dorothy. “By the +way, the menu calls for oyster cocktails, sweetbreads on grilled +mushrooms, O’Brien potatoes, alligator pear salad, and cafe parfait—any +suggestions?” + +“Oh, aren’t you a dear!” Dorothy, who had been using a miniature powder +puff on her nose, snapped shut the cover of her compact. “You have +ordered all the things I like best. No wonder you’re a great +detective—you never forget a single thing, no matter what it is.” + +Sanborn laughed. “Thanks for the compliment—but those dishes happen to +be favorites of my own, too. Now get that brain of yours working, +Dorothy. When I’ve finished with the head waiter, I want you to tell us +all you know about your uncle and cousin. Before we can go further I +must have every possible detail of the case at my fingers’ ends.” + +He took up a phone from a small table near the window, and Dorothy +turned toward Howard. + +“You probably know more about the Jordans than I do,” she said. “I have +a picture of Janet that she sent me a couple of years ago. We always +exchange presents at Christmas—but we’ve never seen each other.” + +“I really know very little about the Jordans, myself,” protested Howard. +“You see, Janet and I saw each other for the first time just five weeks +ago. It was on a Sunday afternoon, I’d been taking a walk in Central +Park, when one of those equinoctial downpours came on very suddenly. +Janet was right ahead of me, so naturally, I offered her my umbrella. +She’s—well, rather shy and retiring, and at first she wasn’t so keen on +accepting—” + +“So there _is_ a difference between the cousins!” Bill winked at Howard. +“If it had been Dorothy, she’d have taken your overcoat and rubbers as +well. Nothing shy or retiring about Janet’s double!” + +“Is that so, Mr. Smarty! It’s a good thing Howard met her that rainy +Sunday. If it had been you, Bill, the poor girl would certainly have got +a soaking!” + +“You mean she wouldn’t have accepted my umbrella?” + +“I _mean_ you never would have offered it!” + +“You win—one up, Dorothy,” said Ashton Sanborn when the laughter at +this sally had subsided. “What happened after you and Janet got under +your umbrella, Bright?” + +“Oh, nothing much. We walked over to Central Park West but there were no +taxis to be had for love or money. So then I suggested taking her home +and we found we lived in the same apartment house. I asked if I might +call, but she said that was impossible—that Mr. Jordan permitted no +callers.” + +“Well,” said Dorothy, “that didn’t seem to stop you. I mean you are a +pretty fast worker, Howard, to get engaged with a tyrant father guarding +the doorstep and all that.” + +“Cut it out, Dot,” broke in Bill, who had been waiting patiently for a +chance to get even. “You can’t be in the center of the stage all the +time, and your remarks are out of order, anyway.” + +“I’ll dot you one, if you take my name in vain, young man!” + +“Silence, woman! Go ahead, Howard, and speak your piece, or she’ll jump +in with both feet next time.” + +Dorothy said nothing but the glance she shot Bill Bolton was a promise +of dire things to come. + +“Oh, I don’t mind,” grinned Howard, and Dorothy immediately put him down +as a good sport. “Well, to go on with it—we used to meet in the lobby, +go for walks and bus rides, sometimes to the movies or a matinee. Two +weeks ago, Janet, who is just eighteen, by the way, said she would marry +me. She seemed to have no friends in New York. I’ve seen her father, but +never met him. Except for this horrible business, which came up a few +days ago, all that I know about Janet is that her mother died when she +was five, her father parked her at a boarding-school near Chicago, and +she stayed there until last June when she graduated. Her summer holidays +were spent at a girls’ camp in Wisconsin. She was never allowed to visit +the homes of the other girls, so Christmas and Easter holidays she +stayed in the school. During her entire schooling, she saw her father +only five times. Last summer he took her abroad with him. They travelled +in Germany and in Russia, I believe.” + +“Gosh, what a life for a girl!” exploded Bill. + +“I should say so!” Dorothy made no attempt to hide her disgust. “The +more I hear about Uncle Michael, the less I care about him.” + +“Tell us what you do know about him,” prompted Sanborn. “I want to get +all the background possible before Bright explains the girl’s present +predicament. I know a good deal about Dr. Winn and his secretary. If +those men are threatening her, there must be something very serious +brewing. Go ahead, Dorothy—luncheon will be up here any minute, now.” + +“All right, but I warn you it isn’t much. My mother, who as you know +died when I was a little girl, had one sister, my Aunt Edith, who was +her twin. They looked so much alike that their own father and mother had +trouble in telling them apart. Aunt Edith fell in love with a young +Irishman named Michael Jordan, whom she met at a dance. He seemed +prosperous, and my grandfather gave his consent to their engagement. +Then he learned that Michael Jordan made his money by selling arms and +ammunition to South and Central American revolutionists. Grandpa, from +all accounts, hit the ceiling. He was a deacon of the church, very +sedate and all that, and he said he wouldn’t allow his daughter to marry +a gun-runner. And that was that. To make a long story short, Aunt Edith +ran away with Michael Jordan. They were married in New York, sent +Grandpa a copy of the marriage certificate, and then sailed for South +America. For several years there was no word from them at all. My +mother, whose name was Janet, by the way, loved Aunt Edith as only a +twin can love the other. But she couldn’t write to her because the +eloping couple had left no address. Six years later, mother had a letter +from Uncle Michael. He was in Chicago then, and he wrote that Aunt Edith +had died, and that he had placed little Janet at the Pence School in +Evanston. Mother and Daddy went right out to Chicago, to see Uncle +Michael. They tried to get him to let them take Janet home with them, +and bring her up with me. I was only three at the time, so naturally I +don’t remember anything about it. But what I’m telling you Daddy told to +me years later. Well, their trip to Chicago was all for nothing—Uncle +Michael refused to let them have Janet. It almost broke my mother’s +heart. Well, and that is the reason Janet and I have always given each +other presents at Christmas and on our birthdays, although we’ve never +even met. Two years ago, she sent me her photograph, and both Daddy and +I were astounded to see the resemblance to me. Twice, since then, I’ve +been taken for Janet by girls who were at school with her at Evanston. +Perhaps, if we were seen together, you’d be able to tell us apart—I +don’t know.” + +“I do, though,” declared Howard, “you may be slightly broader across the +shoulders, Dorothy, but otherwise you might be Janet, sitting there. +You’ve the same brown hair, grey eyes, your features are alike—” + +“How about our voices?” + +“Exactly the same. You have a more forceful way of speaking, that’s all. +I keep wanting to call you ‘Janet’ all the time.” Howard turned his head +away, and Dorothy could see the emotion that again overtook him as he +thought of his helpless little fiancee, a prisoner in the hands of +unscrupulous men. + +She glanced at Bill, and shook her head in sympathy. Just then there +came a knock on the sitting room door. + +“Ah! lunch at last!” Ashton Sanborn rose and put his hand on Howard’s +shoulder. “Come, no more of this now. The subject of the double cousins +is taboo until we’ve all done justice to this excellent meal!” + + + + + Chapter III + + THE SLEEPWALKER + + +“Mr. Sanborn,” said Dorothy, “when you’re tired of fathoming mysteries +for people, come out to New Canaan and help me order meals. That was the +most scrumptious lunch I’ve had in a month of Sundays.” She dropped a +lump of sugar in her demitasse and threw her host a bright smile across +the table. + +“Thank you, my dear,” the detective smiled back. “I may take you up on +that one of these days. But speaking of mysteries reminds me that now +the waiter is gone, it’s high time we busied ourselves again with the +affairs of Janet Jordan. Now that I understand something of the young +lady’s background and her family, I want to hear all there is to tell +about her present position.” He pulled a briar pipe and tobacco pouch +out of his pocket and commenced to fill the one with the contents of the +other. “All ready, Howard. Start at the beginning and don’t skimp on +details—they may be and they generally are important.” + +“Very well, sir. I’ll begin with a week ago today.” Howard pushed his +chair away from the table, thrust his hands into trouser pockets and +jumped into his story. “Janet had a date to meet me last Thursday at +two p. m. at the Strand. We intended to take in a movie—but she never +showed up.” + +“Then you aren’t a business man—?” This from the detective. + +“Oh, but I am—a mining engineer, Mr. Sanborn. With the Tuthill +Corporation. But I am free on Thursday afternoons, instead of Saturday. +It is more convenient for the office staff.” + +“Hasn’t your concern large mining concessions in Peru?” + +“It has, sir—silver mines. To make matters worse—but no—I’ll tell it +this way. I particularly wanted to meet Janet last Thursday, because I +had been told the day before by the head of our New York office that I +was to be transferred to Lima, Peru. The boat that I’m scheduled to sail +on, leaves this coming Saturday. I was fearfully pepped up about it. I’m +going down there as assistant manager of our Lima office, the job +carries a considerable increase in salary, and, if I make good, a fine +future with the firm. My plan was to get Janet to marry me, with or +without her father’s consent, and to take her to Lima with me. I +couldn’t bear to think of leaving her to the kind of existence she’d had +before I’d known her—and with no way of correspondence—Well, I waited +for over an hour in the lobby of the theatre but she didn’t come. At +last I went up to my apartment.” + +“Why didn’t you phone her?” asked Dorothy, who was nothing if not +direct. + +“Because Janet had asked me never to do that. She said if her father +knew she had a boy friend, he’d pack her off somewhere, and we’d never +be able to meet again.” + +“Nice papa—I don’t think!” observed Bill Bolton. + +“No comments now, please,” said Sanborn. “Go on, Howard. If you couldn’t +talk to Janet, how did you find out that she was a prisoner?” + +Howard smiled. “But we _were_ able to talk to each other, Mr. Sanborn. +About the time we became engaged, I fixed that. My small flat is on the +ninth floor of the building, the Jordans’ on the seventh. My three rooms +have windows on an air shaft. The Jordans’ back bedroom and bath +overlook the same airshaft and are directly opposite my sitting room, +two flights below. The shaft is only twenty feet wide, so I bought one +of those headphone sets that are used in airplanes for conversation +between the cockpits of a plane while it is being flown. I lengthened +the wires of course, and got a long, collapsible pole. After dark, Janet +would come to her window, I’d pass her headphone set down to her, hooked +on to the end of the pole, and we would hold long conversations across +the court without anybody being the wiser. When we were through talking, +I’d pass the pole over to her and draw it back when she’d attached her +headset.” + +“By Jingoes!” cried Bill. “I’ll say that’s clever!” + +“It sure is, Howard!” Dorothy was quite as enthusiastic. “You certainly +deserve to get Janet after that.” + +Howard shook his head. “We’ll have to do something really clever to get +her away from the bunch who are holding her prisoner. Well,—as I say, +when I got to my flat, I sat down by my sitting room window, and +pretended to read a book. In reality, of course, I was watching Janet’s +window. Presently she appeared. Even at that distance, I could see that +she had been crying. She held up a slate, for we never dared to use the +headphones in the day time, and slates are a good medium for short +messages. On it she had written, ‘_After dark._’ Well, that was one of +the longest afternoons I’d ever put in. About five-thirty, she came back +to her window and I passed over the headgear. When I heard her story, I +went half crazy, and I guess I’ve been pretty much that way ever since. + +“You see, Mr. Sanborn, Janet has told me that occasionally she walks in +her sleep, especially when she isn’t feeling very well. The evening +before, that was a week ago Wednesday night, she had a headache and went +to bed early. When she awoke, she was terrified to find herself seated +on the floor of their living room, behind a large Chinese screen. There +seemed to be seven or eight men in the room, including her father. Of +course, she could not see them, but she could hear every word they said. +By the clock on the wall above her head, she saw that it was one in the +morning. She soon realized that this was a meeting of the heads of some +large society or organization and that these men had come there from all +parts of the world. There was an air of mystery about them and their +talk. No names were mentioned but they addressed each other by number. +Mr. Jordan was Number 5; Number 2, who spoke with a foreign accent, was +evidently conducting the meeting, in place of the absent Number 1, whom +they all seemed to hold in great awe. Janet realized that she must have +entered the room before the meeting started, while she was still asleep. +She saw that so long as the meeting lasted, there would be no way of +escape. Gradually she became terrified at her predicament, and—” + +“Just a moment,” interrupted Ashton Sanborn. “Has Janet ever told you +anything of her father’s business?” + +“She really knows nothing about it, Mr. Sanborn. I asked her myself some +time ago, and she said then, except that he seemed to travel a lot, she +hadn’t the slightest idea what he did for a living. Once when she asked +him outright what is was, Mr. Jordan flew into a rage. He said it was +his own affair, and that so long as it brought them in enough money to +live comfortably, he did not wish her to bring up the matter again. The +one thing she does know is that he doesn’t go regularly to an office. +Men frequently come to see him at the apartment, but their conversations +are invariably held behind locked doors.” + +“I see. Go on now, with Janet and the meeting.” + +“Well, sir, as I’ve said, she was behind that screen, listening to what +the men said—and in fact, she couldn’t help listening. Not that she +understood much of what they were saying. Number 2 made a long speech +and the gist of it was that now they were agreed upon the use of Formula +X, the demonstration (whatever that was) must be made in their +respective sectors at the same time on the same day. He also proposed +that Number 5 (Janet’s father) interview Number 1 and learn from him +when the demonstrations should be made. This motion was carried +unanimously. Then Number 3 asked the chairman if they could not in +future hold their meeting in some safer place than the Jordans’ +apartment. ‘For all we know,’ he said, ‘someone may be secreted behind +that screen!’ Mr. Jordan laughed at this, and told Number 3 to close up +the screen if it made him nervous. So the first thing Janet knew, the +screen was dragged aside and she was staring into the face of a +Chinaman. Seated in a circle behind him were the others, her father +among them.” + +“Gosh!” exclaimed Dorothy. “I’ll bet that scared the poor kid silly.” + +“It did,” admitted Howard. “She was absolutely petrified. And then there +was the dickens to pay. All the men started talking at once. The +Chinaman pulled a revolver and pointed it straight at her, yelling that +she had heard their secrets and must be immediately executed!” + +“‘She has heard nothing!’ her father told them. ‘She frequently walks in +her sleep. She was asleep when she wandered in here before the meeting, +and she is sleeping now—look!’ Then he lit a match and held the flame +before Janet’s eyes. ‘You see,’ he said, ‘she doesn’t even blink. Janet +has heard nothing, gentlemen.’” + +“Of course Janet had taken her father’s hint, and followed it. She knew +that he was doing the only thing he could to save her life, so she kept +right on staring in front of her without moving, while the Chinaman held +the automatic within a foot of her head. But the strain she was under +nearly broke her nerve. She knew that the slightest sign on her part +that she was conscious would mean a bullet through her brain. A furious +argument followed. Most of the men—there were eight of them including +Mr. Jordan—wanted her put out of the way at once. But at last, her +father and Number 2, a big man with a long beard who seemed to be more +humane than the rest, prevailed upon them to let him lead her back to +her bed. Her father was forbidden to hold any intercourse with her +whatsoever. She was locked in her bedroom, afraid even to cry, for fear +she would be heard, and not knowing what moment the door would open and +they would drag her to her death.” + +“Horrible!” Mr. Sanborn’s pipe had gone out but he didn’t seem to notice +it. “That experience was enough to unhinge a person’s mind. Janet may be +shy and retiring, but she evidently doesn’t lack grit. By the way, did +she say she recognized any of the men at the meeting?” + +“No. She said that without exception she was sure she’d never seen any +of them before, although they were all on good terms with her father. +Each one seemed to be of a different nationality. One was a black man +who wore a turban—an East Indian, probably. Another, also pretty dark, +wore a red fez. The others were apparently Europeans, but as they all +spoke English together she had no way of guessing what they were. Number +2, the man with the long brown beard, she thought might be a +Scandinavian. She was sure, though, that her father was the only +American or Anglo-Saxon in the group.” + +“Tell us what happened next morning,” proposed Dorothy. Her coffee, now +cold, remained untasted in the cup. + +“I’m getting to that. At eight o’clock her door was unlocked and a +woman, a stranger to her, came into her bedroom with a breakfast tray. +She put the tray on a table and went into the bathroom and turned on the +water for Janet’s bath, then left the room and locked the door after +her. At nine this same woman came back, brought some books and magazines +to her, made up the bed and put the room straight. Whenever Janet spoke +to her, she shook her head and put her finger to her lips. But Janet +said that even now she doesn’t know whether the woman is actually dumb +or only acting under orders. She has brought and taken away her meals +ever since, but she has never been able to get her to speak.” + +“But how did she find out about going to Dr. Winn’s house?” asked Bill +Bolton, who had shown an interest quite as keen as Dorothy’s or +Sanborn’s. + +Howard Bright drank a glass of water. “I’m getting to that part now,” he +explained. “I’m not much of a story teller and I seem to be taking an +awful time to get through this one—but I’m doing my best just the +same.” + +“Of course you are!” Dorothy motioned Bill to keep quiet. “You’re doing +noble, Howard! Pay no attention to that goof over there.” + +“O.K., Dorothy.” Howard replaced his empty glass on the table. “At about +noon of the first day of Janet’s imprisonment in her room, the door was +unlocked and Mr. Lawson came in. She knew him as a friend of her +father’s who had dined with them two or three times. She had always +thought him quite a jolly sort of chap and knew that he was private +secretary to Dr. Winn, the celebrated chemist. Naturally, she felt +rather relieved to see him, and she opened up on him at once. She still +felt that her only hope for life and freedom was to pretend absolute +ignorance of the happenings of the night before. And she managed to keep +up that pretense before Lawson, though what he had to do with the affair +she hadn’t any idea, nor does she yet know where he comes into the +picture. Anyway, he wasn’t at the meeting. She let him know, though, +that she was very indignant and astonished to find herself kept a +prisoner, and demanded to see her father. Lawson, she told me, was most +affable and kind to her. He said that she of course did not realize that +she had been very ill during the night and that she was now under +doctor’s orders. He also told her that her father had been called away +on business, so he had come to her as an old friend of the family, to be +of any help that he could. Janet said that his sympathy almost +undermined her suspicion—she almost confided in him. But luckily, she +didn’t. He has been to see her every day since, and she is now convinced +that his part in this devilish scheme is to gain her confidence, and to +find out whether she actually did hear or see anything at the meeting. +Yesterday he told her that it had been decided she should visit him and +his wife at Dr. Winn’s house while her father is away, and that in order +to occupy her mind, she should act as secretary to Mrs. Lawson, who +assists Dr. Winn in his work.” + +“Maybe they don’t really mean to harm her after all,” said Dorothy +hopefully. + +“Janet is certain,” said Howard, “that they want her at the Doctor’s for +close observation. She took a secretarial course at school, so that part +of it is all right, but I believe with her that one slip, one sign that +she is deceiving them, will mean that she will simply vanish and never +be heard of again. She knows that Lawson lied about one thing: her +father is still living in their flat. She has heard his voice several +times.” + +“But what I can’t understand,” said Dorothy, “is why, just as soon as +you knew all this, you didn’t go to the nearest police station and have +that flat raided!” + +“Because, Janet won’t hear of it.” Howard’s tone was thoroughly +wretched. “I worked out some other plans to release her, but she refuses +to budge.” + +“Is the girl crazy?” This from Bill. + +“No—she’s as sane as any of us—maybe saner. She says that if the +police are called in or I help her to escape, that crew will believe her +father knew all the time that she was faking—as of course he does. And +she says she is sure they will have him killed out of hand, once they +discover that. To make matters worse, if possible, my firm thinks I’m +going to sail for Lima the day after tomorrow! If I turn them down, I’ll +lose my job here and ruin my future. I’ve been hoping against hope that +something would turn up so Janet could sail with me. I certainly shall +not sail without her. I was buying some clothes for the trip when I ran +into you this morning—” Howard’s voice trailed off hopelessly. + +“Gee!” It was evident that Dorothy was not far from tears. “You poor +dears are in an awful fix! I do wish I could help you. Do +_something_—so that you two could get married and sail for Peru!” + +“Perhaps you can.” Ashton Sanborn knocked the ashes from his pipe into +an ash tray. + +“_How?_” shouted three voices simultaneously. + + + + + Chapter IV + + MEET FLASH! + + +“Dorothy, have you ever done anything in the way of amateur +theatricals?” Ashton Sanborn stroked the bowl of his pipe reflectively. + +“Why—er—yes, a little.” She looked a bit bewildered. “I’ve been in the +Silvermine Sillies for the past two years.” + +Sanborn nodded. “How is it you’re out of school on a Thursday?” The +question seemed irrelevant. He was leaning back in his chair now, +surveying the ceiling rather absently, but there was nothing +lackadaisical about his crisp tones. + +“Christmas holidays. Why?” + +“Because, if you’re willing, I may want you to work for me for a few +days. I suppose I can reach your father by telephone at the New Canaan +bank?” + +“No, you can’t—Daddy is down in Florida on a fishing trip. He’s on Mr. +Bolton’s yacht, somewhere off the coast. They won’t be back until +Christmas Eve.” + +“That,” said the Secret Service man, “complicates matters. Who, may I +ask, is looking after Miss Dixon while Mr. Dixon is away?” + +“I’m looking after my own sweet self, sir.” Dorothy grinned roguishly. + +“Then who is to take the responsibility for your actions, young lady?” + +“Why, you may—if you want to!” + +For a moment or two the detective studied her thoughtfully. There was a +certain assurance about this girl’s manner, a steely quality that came +sometimes into her grey eyes, an indefinable air of strength and quiet +courage— + +“Do you think you could impersonate your cousin, Dorothy?” + +“Why—of course!” Dorothy showed her surprise. “We look exactly alike. +Didn’t Howard take me for Janet?” + +“He did—but from what he has told us about her, your natures are +entirely different. Janet, from all accounts, is a rather meek and +demure young lady. Remember, that in order to convince anyone who knows +her you would have to submerge your own personality in hers. And nobody +would ever describe _you_ as a meek, demure young lady!” + +“An untamed wildcat—if you ask me,” chuckled Bill. + +“Why, thanks a lot, William!” Dorothy’s hearers were abruptly aware of +the changed quality of her voice as she continued to speak in melting +tones of pained acceptance. “But nobody _did_ ask you, darling, so in +future when your betters are conversing, be good enough to button up +that lip of yours!” She finished her withering tirade in the same quiet +tones and with a positively shrinking demeanor that sent the others into +shouts of laughter. + +“Say, you’re Janet to a T!” cried Howard. “Her voice is always like that +if I happen to hurt her feelings.” + +“How about her hair, Howard? Is it long or short?” + +“Oh, she wears it bobbed like yours.” + +“I suppose,” Dorothy said to Mr. Sanborn, “that you want to smuggle me +into the flat and have me change places with her?” + +“That’s the idea exactly,” admitted the detective. “And I don’t want you +to make your decision until I explain my plan in detail—or, rather, the +necessity for the risk you will be taking.” + +“Shoot—” said Miss Dixon, “but I can tell you right now, risk or no +risk, I’m going through with it. Janet, after all she’s been through and +from what Howard has told us, is bound to flop once she gets to Dr. +Winn’s. Nervous, and probably high strung, the chances are against her +being able to hold up under the strain.” + +“I think you are right about that. But although Janet is in serious +danger, she could be rescued and her father guarded without bringing you +into the picture, Dorothy, if it were not for one thing. These men who +hold Janet in their custody are in some way mixed up with Dr. Winn, who +has undertaken to make some very important experiments for the United +States government.” + +“I make a bet that he is Number 1 of the gang!” ventured Bill, the +irrepressible. + +“Very possibly. That has yet to be discovered. But what I want you young +people to realize is that this is no ordinary gang. Quite evidently we +are up against an international organization. Their treatment of Janet +is concrete evidence of their cold-blooded ruthlessness when they +believe their plans to be in jeopardy. If you take your cousin’s place, +Dorothy, of course we will see that you are well guarded, but even so, +your part in clearing up this mystery will entail a very great element +of risk.” + +“I’m willing to take the chance.” Dorothy met his inquiring eyes +steadily. “Naturally, I’m sorry for Janet and I want to help her. The +only thing is, I’ve got to be back at High School by January fourth.” + +“I think I can promise you that this job will be cleaned up within a +week.” + +“I reckon,” smiled Bill, “that you haven’t told us all you know about +these lads with numbers instead of names.” + +“Not quite all.” Sanborn smiled back at him. “But that is neither here +nor there just now. By the way, Dorothy, how are you on shorthand and +typewriting?” + +“Oh, not so worse. It’s part of the course I’m taking at New Canaan +High.” + +“Good enough. Frankly, young lady, I would not consider using you, had +not the New Canaan Bank robbery, the affair of the Mystery Plane and the +Conway Case proved conclusively that you have a decided flair for this +kind of thing.” + +“Thank you, sir,” said Miss Dixon with mock coyness. “Them kind words is +a great comfort to a poor workin’ goil. Do I pack a gat wid me, Mister?” + +“You do not. In fact, you will take nothing except what belongs to your +cousin. If I am able to get you into the Jordan flat and they carry you +up to Ridgefield in her place, just being Janet Jordan, who never woke +up when she was sleepwalking last week will be your best protection. Of +course, I’m not deserting you. Either I or some of my men will find +means of keeping in touch with you constantly.” + +“And when the villains scrag me, the secret service boys will arrive on +the scene just in time—to identify the deceased! No thank you. If the +gun is out of orders, Flash will have to go. Of course my jiu jitsu may +help at a pinch, but Flash is more potent and ever so much quicker.” + +“What are you talking about, Dorothy?” Ashton Sanborn looked puzzled. + +“It’s a cinch you can’t drag a dog along if that’s your big idea,” +declared Bill. + +“It is not the big idea, old thing.” Dorothy grinned wickedly. “Flash +and I have got very clubby this fall. He’s really quite a dear, you +know. We travel about together a lot.” + +“The mystery of this age,” observed Bill, “is how certain females can +talk so much and say so little.” + +“Then,” said Dorothy cheerfully, “I’ll let you solve the mystery right +now. Catch!” She tossed him a macaroon from a plate on the table. “Go +over to that bedroom door,” she commanded. “Stand to one side of the +door and throw that thing into the air.” + +“But, I say, Dorothy!” interposed Ashton Sanborn. “This is no time for +fooling, we’ve got—” + +“This is not fooling, you dear old fuss-budget,” she cut in. +“It’s—well, it’s just something that may save you from worrying so much +about me. Now, Bill, are you ready?” + +“Anything to please the ladies,” retorted that young man wearily. He got +up and walked to the far end of the room and took his stand beside the +closed door. “Is Flash a cake hound? Will he jump for the cookie?” + +“He sure will—toss it in the air.” + +The small cake went spinning toward the ceiling, and at the same instant +Dorothy’s right hand disappeared under the table. With the speed of +legerdemain she brought it into view again and her arm shot out suddenly +like a signpost across the white cloth. There was a streak of silver +light—and the three male members of the quartet stared at the bedroom +door in open-mouthed wonder. Quivering in the very center of its upper +panel was a small knife, and impaled on the knife’s blade was the +macaroon. + +“Meet Flash!” said Dorothy. + +“Great suffering snakes!” exploded Bill, plucking out the blade, and +examining it. “The thing’s a throwing knife.” + +“Six inches of razor-keen, leaf-shaped blade,” said Dorothy, “and three +inches of carved ivory hilt, beautifully balanced—that’s Flash. How do +you like him, fellers?” + +“You,” declared Howard, who was still goggle-eyed with surprise, “you +are the most amazing girl I’ve ever met, Dorothy!” + +“And you don’t know the half of it,” said Bill with unstinted fervor. + +“Think I can take care of myself at a pinch, Uncle Sanborn?” Dorothy was +laughing at the expression of astonishment on the detective’s face. + +“You win, young lady.” He chuckled softly. “After this I’ll keep my +worries for Doctor Winn and his friends. Who’d have thought you had +anything like that up your sleeve!” + +“Not up my sleeve, old dear. A little leather sheath strapped just above +my left knee is where Flash came from.” + +“Regular Jesse James stuff, eh?” remarked Bill as he handed back the +knife. + +“Oh, yeah?” Flash disappeared as quickly as he’d come, and Dorothy stood +up. “What’s on the boards, now, boss?” she asked sweetly. + +“Howard—” said Ashton Sanborn, “will you let me have the key to that +apartment of yours? Thanks. Bill and I will need it this afternoon, and +even if things go according to Hoyle, we’ll be powerful busy. In the +meantime, I’ve got a job for you and Dorothy.” He took out his +pocketbook and extracting a sheaf of bills, handed them to the girl. + +“You and Howard are going to have a busy afternoon, too. See that you’re +back here in time for dinner at seven, and—” + +“But what under the sky-blue canopy is all this?” Dorothy was thumbing +the bills, counting them. “Why, I’ve never seen so much money—” + +“Use it to buy your cousin a trousseau. Have the things sent to Mrs. +Howard Bright’s apartment at this hotel. And remember, that when she +arrives here, Janet will have nothing but the clothes she is wearing. +You don’t mind doing this, do you?” + +“Mind! Why, I’ll love it!” Dorothy turned a dazzling smile on Howard, +who was simply tongue-tied by the detective’s announcement. “Isn’t he +swell, Howard? Isn’t he some guy?” + +Ashton Sanborn laughed. “Don’t thank me. Uncle Sam is paying, so you +needn’t bring back any change.” + +Dorothy thrust the money into her purse. “Don’t worry, old bean, I +won’t. So long, you two. Come on, Howard, we’re going to have a +beautiful afternoon!” She caught young Bright by the arm and whirled him +across the room to the coat-rack. She jammed a bright green beret over +her right ear and slung her leopard-cat coat onto her shoulders. “All +set for Fifth Avenue!” she called out merrily as she preceded Howard out +of the room. + + + + + Chapter V + + ON SECRET SERVICE + + +To say that Dorothy enjoyed her afternoon’s shopping would be putting it +mildly. Give any girl plenty of money and tell her to go out and buy an +entire trousseau for herself—or even for somebody else—and watch her +jump at the chance! + +Howard trailed along in more or less of a daze. This sudden change in +his outlook; being drawn from the depths of despondency to the hope of a +future with the girl he loved, and all in the space of a couple of +hours, was a little too much for him to realize at once. Ever after, he +had but a hazy recollection of that shopping tour. The afternoon seemed +but a whirling maze of lingerie, stockings, street dresses, party +frocks, coats, hats, shoes and accessories, upon which his advice was +invariably asked, and never taken. + +They were bowling hotelwards in a taxi, jammed with cardboard boxes and +packages of various shapes and sizes, before he returned to normal. + +“Whew!” he looked at Dorothy. “I should think you’d be dead!” + +She shook her head and laughed. “No girl ever gets tired of shopping,” +she told him gaily. “Wait till you’re married—you’ll find out.” + +“But what’s the idea of bringing all these things back with us? I +thought Mr. Sanborn said to have them sent.” + +“He did—but I have a better idea. This is part of it. I’ll tell you all +about it when we get to the hotel. Keep still now—I want to go over the +lists and see if I’ve forgotten anything!” + +Howard sighed in resignation. + +At the hotel desk they learned that Ashton Sanborn had not returned as +yet, but had left word that they should go to his rooms. With the +assistance of three bellboys, they piled themselves and their packages +into the elevator. + +“Gee! This looks like the night before Christmas!” Howard dropped his +hat and overcoat and stared at the boxes and bundles piled along the +wall of the sitting room. “Janet certainly will be surprised when she +sees all those things!” + +Dorothy pulled off her close-fitting little hat, and tossed it with her +purse and coat onto the table. Then she sank into an easy-chair. “Well, +I only hope she’ll approve. My, this was a strenuous afternoon. You’d +better sit down.” + +Howard followed her advice. “You said it. But I know Janet—she’ll be +crazy about the things you’ve bought.” + +“Oh, you boys are all alike.” Dorothy yawned unashamedly. + +“I don’t get you.” + +“What I mean is that as soon as a fellow goes round with a girl for a +while, he invariably says ‘Oh yes, she’ll like this,’ or, ‘she won’t +like that’.” + +“And—?” + +“Ninety-nine times out of a hundred you guess wrong.” + +“Why?” + +“I think it’s because girls like to do their own choosing. Especially +when it comes to buying clothes. Well, anyway, I think the things are +darling, and they’ll be becoming, too. At least they look well on me.” + +“Don’t worry—those clothes will make her look like a million dollars.” + +“I know they will. I’m tired, I guess.” Dorothy yawned again and closed +her eyes. + +Howard started to say something, thought better of it, yawned, and let +his head pillow itself on the soft upholstery. + +Three quarters of an hour later, Ashton Sanborn and Bill Bolton marched +into the room to find the two shoppers sound asleep in their respective +chairs. The detective coughed discreetly and both the young people +awoke. + +“I see that you’ve brought your spoils back with you,” he smiled, +pointing to the boxes and bundles. Dorothy stared at him, only half +awake, then sat upright in her chair as she realized where she was. + +“Looks to me,” said Bill, getting out of his overcoat, “as if she +thought Janet was going to start a shop of her own. Why did you cart all +the stuff back here instead of having it sent?” + +“Because, Mr. Inquisitive—well, just because. You and Howard run along +now and prepare your handsome selves for dinner. The principles of this +piece are going into conference now.” + +“My _word_—” began Bill, but at a shake of the head from Sanborn, he +took the still drowsy Howard by the arm and together they disappeared +into the bedroom. + +“Pretty tough time you’ve had, I expect?” Mr. Sanborn’s eyes twinkled, +though his tone was grave. + +“Oh, but it was lots of fun,” cried Dorothy. “Thanks to Uncle Sam, and +Uncle Sanborn! And look here, I’ve got a great idea.” + +“Which has to do with your bringing back the packages yourself?” + +“Quite right, it has. Do you think those boys can hear what we’re +saying?” + +“I doubt it, Dorothy—but Bill, as you probably guessed at the end of +the affair of the Winged Cartwheels, is a full-fledged member of my +organization and—” + +“Oh, I don’t mind Bill,” she interrupted in a low tone. “But Howard +mustn’t get wind of it. He might make a fuss.” + +She rose from her chair and going over to the detective, began to +whisper in his ear. + +“But that’s impossible, Dorothy!” he protested, although he allowed a +smile to come to his eyes. “And what’s more, my dear, I’m afraid it +would be illegal.” + +“Oh, no, it wouldn’t! Not if you—” And again she brought her lips close +to his ear. + +“You’re a young scamp!” he laughed as she ended. “But—well—you’re +doing a great deal for me, so—” + +“So you’ll go downstairs and start telephoning right away!” she prompted +eagerly. + +Ashton Sanborn held up his hands in mock despair. “Nieces,” he declared, +“should not badger hard-working old uncles. But since this niece has +been a good girl today, Uncle will do as he’s asked.” + +“I shall never call you anything else but Uncle Sanborn, now,” Dorothy +cried delightedly. + +“Thanks, my child, and I’ll do my best for you.” + +“Angel uncles can do no more,” she laughed. + +“Right-o. I’ll be on my way, then. Come along in about fifteen minutes +with Bill and Howard. I’ll arrange for a table for dinner and meet you +three in Peacock Alley.” The detective caught up his hat and hurried out +of the room. + + * * * * * + +Although Mr. Sanborn was a perfect host, and did all he could to make +that dinner entertaining, he confessed later that he would always +consider it one of the few failures of an otherwise unblemished career. + +Notwithstanding the delicious food, the charm and beauty of the huge +room with its lights and music and scores of well-dressed men and +beautifully gowned women, the dinner was not a success. All three of the +young people were too excited by thoughts of what would happen later to +do justice to the meal. Dorothy, moreover, had the added annoyance of +feeling that her tailored frock, smart enough for luncheon or shopping, +was definitely not the thing to wear at dinner in a fashionable hotel. +Each endeavored to be sprightly and at ease. But since they knew that +the one thing they wanted to talk about was forbidden in public, +conversation flagged. Upstairs at last in Mr. Sanborn’s sitting room, he +came directly to the point. + +“Now I know you’re just rearing to go,” he said. “And perhaps the sooner +we get under way, the better.” He turned to Bill. “You go ahead with +Howard,” he ordered. “Dorothy and I will follow you in about ten +minutes. Go straight to the apartment. We’ll meet you there.” + +“O and likewise K, boss,” Bill returned. “Get into your rubbers, Howard. +And don’t look so gloomy. You’re on your way to meet your best girl, +remember.” + +When they had gone, Dorothy turned at once to the detective. “How about +it, Uncle Sanborn?” she asked eagerly. + +“To quote Bill, ‘O and likewise K,’ niece.” + +“Gee, you _are_ a dear!” Dorothy clapped her hands. “And now that that +is that—I don’t care what happens.” + +“But I do, Dorothy.” Ashton Sanborn was serious. “Listen to me, young +lady. From now on you’re working for the U. S. government, under me, and +I must have my orders obeyed to the letter.” + +“Yes, sir, I understand.” Dorothy’s tone was crisp and business-like. + +“Good. I let those chaps go ahead of us as there is no need of having us +all arrive at that apartment house at the same time. This afternoon, +Bill and I made all arrangements, so that you can change places with +your cousin shortly after you arrive.” + +Dorothy felt secretly proud that this keen-eyed secret service man took +her at her word, and did not ask her again if she were really willing to +go through with it. “May I ask you a question?” + +“Certainly.” + +“Well, suppose that after you manage to get me into Janet’s room, she +refuses to leave it. Do you want me to force her?” + +“Heavens, no.” Sanborn laughed. “That has all been taken care of, +Dorothy. I talked to your cousin by means of Howard’s headphone set +shortly after dark this afternoon. I explained the whole thing to her +and when she understood that her father would be brought into no extra +danger because of our plan, and that I had drafted you into becoming a +secret service operative, she consented.” + +“I’m glad of that,” said Dorothy fervently. “She could easily have +misunderstood and spoiled everything.” + +“Well, we’ll have a lot to do to put it over, even though Janet is +willing. I persuaded her that by doing exactly what you told her, once +you arrived, she would be serving her country like a loyal American. +You, of course, will use your own judgment, when you see her. The +principal thing is to change clothes and get her out the way you came +just as soon as possible.” + +“But how am I to get into the Jordans’ apartment?” + +“Good soldiers, Dorothy, do not ask questions. There’s no secret about +it, but I’ve other things to tell you now. Lawson will probably come for +you—or for Janet, as he will believe you to be. He is a tall, slender +man, about thirty, rather good-looking, dark curly hair and a small +mustache. Your Uncle Michael, if you should run into him, is heavy set +and rather short. He has reddish hair, turning grey, and is clean +shaven. Janet has never met either Doctor Winn, or Mrs. Lawson. Now just +a word about the lady. She is a very beautiful and a very clever woman. +Be on your guard with her, continually. I believe that the principal +reason that you, or rather, Janet Jordan, will be taken to Ridgefield, +is so that you may be studied at first hand by this woman. There is no +need for me to tell you to keep up the Janet personality day and night. +Incidentally, you will have only a very short time to study your cousin, +so make the most of it. Well,” he concluded, “I guess that’s about all. +You will receive further orders within the next day or two. In the +meantime, simply carry on as Janet Jordan. I am taking a great +responsibility in letting you go, my dear. For I won’t hide the fact +that you’d probably be safer in a den of rattlesnakes than in the same +house with Mr. and Mrs. Lawson.” + +“I’m not afraid, you know,” said Dorothy simply and smiled up at him. + +“I know you’re not. But it would really be better if you were. For then +you’d be much more careful, and you must watch your step every minute +until I get you out of it. Here’s your coat. Slip into it and we’ll get +going. The sooner I get you safely into Janet’s room, and that young +lady out of it, the easier will your Uncle Sanborn feel.” + + + + + Chapter VI + + WHO’S WHO? + + +The December evening was cold and wet as Dorothy and Ashton Sanborn +crossed the sidewalk and entered their taxi-cab. The day had been a +dreary one, and now a dense, drizzling fog lay low upon the great city. +Dun-colored clouds drooped over a muddy Park Avenue as they were swept +up town. On the side streets the electrics were but misty splotches of +diffused light which threw feeble circular glimmers upon the slimy +pavements. The yellow glare from shopwindows streamed out into the +chill, vaporous air, and threw a murky, shifting radiance across the +crowded thoroughfare. To Dorothy there was something eerie and ghostlike +in the endless procession of faces which flitted across these narrow +bars of light. She was not in any respect a timid girl, but the dull, +heavy evening, and the prospect of the strange venture in which they +were engaged, combined to make her feel nervous and depressed. + +At 59th street the taxi turned west and rolled steadily along the +shining black asphalt, stopping now and then for the red lights. They +crossed 5th Avenue and swung into Central Park. Dorothy caught glimpses +of the gaunt shapes of trees in silhouette against the cold fog. She +closed her eyes and resolutely turned her thoughts to the events of the +afternoon. + +So engrossed had she become in the contemplation of her delightful +buying orgy that she was surprised when their cab pulled up with a jerk +and Ashton Sanborn opened the door. + +“Muffle up in your fur collar, Dorothy,” he said. “The fewer people who +see your face, the better.” + +Now that the ordeal had arrived, Dorothy’s nervousness vanished. She +buried the lower part of her face in the soft fur collar and walked at +Mr. Sanborn’s side into the lobby of the apartment house. + +A darkey in brass buttoned uniform stood by the elevator. Two shining +rows of white teeth flashed in a smile of greeting for the detective. + +“All the way up, George.” Mr. Sanborn gave the order as the car started +upward. + +“Yaas, suh, boss, I understand.” George smiled again, and presently the +elevator stopped. + +With Mr. Sanborn in the lead, Dorothy walked along a corridor and up a +narrow flight of stairs. The detective opened a door at the top and the +damp cold of the night swept in upon them. A moment later they were +crossing the flat roof of the apartment house toward a small group who +stood near the parapet at the roof’s edge. As they drew nearer, she saw +that the group awaiting them was composed of Bill Bolton, Howard, and a +stranger. They were standing beside a small crane. + +The secret service man nodded a greeting and turned to Dorothy. “We are +directly above Janet’s window, which is three flights below,” he said +quietly, and glanced at the luminous dial of his wrist-watch. + +“And you’re going to let me down with the auto-crane?” she asked with +just a tremor of excitement in her voice. + +“That’s the idea. It’s perfectly safe. Bill tested it this afternoon.” + +Dorothy gave a little laugh. “Oh, I’m not scared, Uncle Sanborn.” + +“I know you aren’t, my dear.” + +“When do I take off?” + +“Whenever you’re ready.” + +“All set now, then, please.” + +“Good. You’ll go in a minute. Here are last instructions. You will seat +yourself in that swinging seat that Bill is holding. The cable to which +it is attached runs through the pulley at the end of the crane’s arm. +This building is nine stories high. The Jordans’ flat is on the seventh +floor, you remember, so Janet’s window is the third one down.” He moved +to the low parapet and leaned over. “The window is dark, so everything +is O.K.,” he said, coming back to her. “Pull your seat in with you when +you enter, Dorothy, and pull down the shade, of course, when the light +is turned on. When Janet is ready, switch off the light again and have +her give a couple of pulls on this guide rope.” He placed the rope in +her hand. “Then we will hoist her up. Ready for your hop now?” + +“Yes, thanks.” + +“Good luck, then. And remember that although you may not see us, I or +some of my men will be near you all the time.” + +Dorothy shook hands with her three friends and stepped into her swinging +seat. She sat down, steadying herself with a grip on the cable. + +“All serene?” asked Bill. + +“Shove off!” said Dorothy. + +Bill motioned to the stranger, there came the low whir of an electric +motor. Her feet left the roof and she felt herself swung upward. Then +the ascent stopped, the arm of the crane swung outward and with it her +pendant seat. Her feet cleared the parapet and she was over the narrow +airshaft. + +Blurred lights from closed windows of the various apartments gave her a +glimpse of many empty ashcans in the small courtyard far below. But the +crane was lowering her now close to the wall of the building. She was +facing the wall, and looking upward she made out four heads leaning over +the parapet at the edge of the roof. + +The descent was slow, but at last she passed two windows and came to +rest beside the third, whose lower sash she saw was open. Then two arms +caught her about the knees and she was pulled into the room. + +“Dorothy—oh, Dorothy!” sobbed an excited voice so like her own that +Dorothy gave a start. + +“Well, here I am, Janet.” It was a prosaic reply, but her own heart was +beating quickly, nevertheless. “Gee, it’s dark in here! Be a dear and +shut down the window on this cable—and draw the shade, then turn on the +light. I’m busy getting out of this thing.” + +She heard the window and shade come down with a rush. As she stepped +free of her conveyance, the lights flashed on, and the cousins flew into +each other’s arms. + +“Janet!” + +“Dorothy!” + +For a long moment the girls hugged each other and Janet, the more +over-wrought, sobbed on her cousin’s shoulder. + +Dorothy was herself deeply touched, but managed to control her feelings. +“Come, dear,” she said at last. “We’ll just have to get going, I guess. +They’re waiting for you on the roof—and somebody is likely to come to +the door. We mustn’t be caught together, you know.” + +“I know it.” Janet released her and again Dorothy gasped, for she heard +her own voice speaking although the words came from Janet. + +“Look, Dorothy!” Janet pointed to a long mirror in the corner of the +room. “I knew that we were a lot alike, but I never could have +believed—” + +“Well, talk about two peas in a pod!” In the glass Dorothy saw herself +standing beside her cousin; and had it not been that she wore a coat and +hat, while Janet was dressed in a wine-colored silk frock, she would +have had difficulty in knowing which was her own reflection. “Maybe I’m +half an inch taller, or hardly that,” she said after a bit. “Lucky we +both have had our hair shingled. You wear a bang, though—but that’s +easily fixed.” + +She whipped off her small hat and went over to the dressing table where +she picked up a pair of nail scissors. Two minutes of snipping and +Janet’s bang was duplicated on her own forehead. The hair she had cut +off had been carefully placed on a magazine cover and opening the window +a trifle she dropped the ends into the night. + +“Now,” she said, closing the window. “You and I had better change +clothes, Janet. And we’ll have to make it snappy.” + +“Yes—and oh dear—” Janet was slipping off her dress—“I’ve got so much +to talk about. You can’t realize what a horrible time I’ve had—and then +to find you, only to lose you again!” Janet was very near to tears. + +“But you won’t lose me long,” Dorothy flashed her a comforting smile as +she got out of her own dress. “Meanwhile, you’ll have Howard. He’s +waiting on the roof, now. And Ashton Sanborn says he can clear up this +business in a few days.” + +“You certainly are wonderfully brave to do this for me,” sighed her +cousin. “If Mr. Sanborn hadn’t insisted that by changing places with you +I’d be really helping the government, I couldn’t allow you to do it. As +it is, I feel I’m cowardly to go through with it—” + +“Why, you’re nothing of the sort,” Dorothy protested. While Janet talked +and they both undressed, she watched her cousin’s mannerisms, storing +away in her memory, for future use, every gesture, and inflection of the +voice so like her own. + +“Who’s who?” she giggled, and now her tone was softer, an exact +duplication of Janet’s manner of speaking. + +Her cousin smiled. “In our undies,” she admitted, “even I am beginning +to wonder if I’m not seeing double and talking to myself. How about +shoes and stockings, Dorothy?” + +“Chuck ’em over, Janet, we’d better do it up right. I sp’ose most of +your things are packed in that wardrobe trunk over there?” + +“Yes. I packed it this afternoon. You’ll find some handkerchiefs and +gloves in the top bureau drawer. I left the trunk open on purpose. When +Mr. Lawson comes, you might be putting them in—it would help to make +things natural.” + +“Right you are—that’s a good idea.” + +“My arctics and my hat and coat are in the closet. Your coat is much +better looking than mine. It’s a shame to take it from you.” + +“What’s a coat between cousins who love each other?” laughed Dorothy and +put on Janet’s dress. + +A few minutes later, the change of clothing had been made, and the girls +regarded each other in awed wonder. + +“I’ll bet,” Dorothy declared, “that when Howard sees you he’ll think +I’ve come back again.” + +Janet blushed. “Well, he’ll soon find out different. But it’s a shame to +leave you here, darling. If there were _only_ some other way!” + +“But there isn’t. So cut along now, and just remember that this kind of +thing is my stuff—I love it.” + +“Some day I’ll make it up to you—if I ever can!” + +Dorothy hesitated for a moment, then smiled. “You can do it tonight, if +you want to.” + +“Why—what do you mean?” + +“Just follow any suggestions that Mr. Sanborn may make.” + +“But, what does that—you’re hiding something from me!” + +“Perhaps I am.” + +“What is it?” + +“Never mind, now.” + +“But, Dorothy—” + +“No time for that, Janet. Get into that swing arrangement with your back +to the window.” + +“All right, but kiss me goodbye, first.” + +They held each other close for a second. Then as Janet took her place on +the seat attached to the steel cable, Dorothy switched off the light. + +“I’ll—I’ll do as you ask, I mean, about Mr. Sanborn,” whispered Janet. + +“Thanks, darling, I—” began Dorothy, her hand on the window sash ready +to raise it. Then suddenly she stopped. + +Somebody was unlocking the door into the hall. + + + + + Chapter VII + + PLAYING A PART + + +Dorothy ran to the door and caught hold of the knob. “Who’s there?” she +cried. + +“It’s I—Martin Lawson, Janet. May I come in?” + +“Oh, please, Mr. Lawson, not right now.” There was a soft tone of +pleading in her voice. “You see, I’ve been lying down and I’m not quite +dressed.” + +“But I thought I heard you speaking.” + +“You did.” The real Janet, shivering by the window, caught her breath +and heard Dorothy’s tone sharpen slightly. “To myself. Being cooped up +like this for hours on end, I’m glad to hear the sound of my own voice. +I often read aloud. But I’ll be ready shortly, if you want me.” + +“All right, then. I’ll be back in five minutes. Your father is here and +he wants to say goodbye.” + +The key turned in the lock and with her ear close to the panel Dorothy +was sure she could hear the faint tread of footsteps retreating down the +hall. With her heart pumping sixty to the second, she dashed back to +Janet and carefully raised the window. + +“Heavens! that was a narrow squeak—” her cousin whispered shakily. +“What nerve you’ve got! I nearly fainted—” + +“Never mind,” Dorothy whispered back, “you’ve got to get out of +here—and right now!” + +“Oh, but I can’t, Dorothy. I’m afraid!” + +Dorothy gave the signal rope two savage pulls. Almost immediately the +cable began to tighten. “Close your eyes and hang on with both hands,” +she ordered. + +“But Dorothy—I’ll scream—I’m going to—I know it!” + +“No, you won’t!” Quickly Dorothy clasped the frightened girl’s fingers +around the taut cable. A dive into the pocket of Janet’s coat brought +forth her own handkerchief which she hurriedly crumpled into a ball and +thrust into her cousin’s mouth. The seat, with Janet in it, was rising +slowly. She caught the paralyzed girl below the knees, steadied her as +the crane drew its burden clear of the sill and pushed her carefully +into the outer darkness. When Janet’s feet were on a level with the +upper sash, she pulled down the window and shade and switched on the +light again. + +“Skies above!” Her breath came in short gasps and she leaned against the +end of the bed to steady herself. “Talk about your thrills! That was +worse than my first solo hop, by a long shot.” She ran her fingers +through her short hair. “Let’s see—what next? Oh, yes—I was supposed +to be lying down.” + +She caught up a book from the table and tossed it open onto the bed. +Then she lay down, rumpled the coverlet, made sure that the pillow +showed the impression of her head, and sprang up again. An adventurous +past had taught her the need of being thorough. + +She went to the window and raising it, looked out and upward. Neither +Janet nor the crane were in sight. Thankful that her cousin was safe at +last, she pulled down the sash. + +Two or three minutes later, when the door was unlocked, the two men who +entered surprised her in the business of packing the contents of the top +bureau drawer into Janet’s wardrobe trunk. + +And now came as pretty a piece of acting as has ever been seen upon the +stage; acting that Dorothy’s audience of two must not realize was +acting, and furthermore, one of these men was the father of the girl she +impersonated. Why hadn’t she remembered to ask Janet what she called +that mysterious father of hers? Father, Papa, Dad, Daddy—which should +she use? A mistake now would be fatal. Even her uncle must not become +aware of her real identity. There was no time for hesitating. He was +speaking now. + +“Janet, my dear—” he began. + +Dorothy ran to her uncle and throwing her arms about his neck, buried +her head on his shoulder. “How could you leave me like this?” she +wailed. “Why do you let these people keep me locked in my room? And now +they are going to take me away!” Her voice grew louder, almost +hysterical. She sobbed pathetically and clutched him a little tighter. + +“My dear child—you mustn’t cry this way—you really mustn’t!” Mr. +Jordan patted her back in the silly way men do when they want to be +comforting. “Mr. Lawson and his wife will look after you in the country, +while your Daddy is away.” + +She released the embarrassed man, and pulling a handkerchief from his +breast pocket, dabbed her eyes with the cambric until she felt certain +they looked bloodshot enough to pass inspection. “But I don’t _want_ to +go, Daddy. Please don’t let them take me,” she begged, her voice +trembling as though she was using all her will power to gain self +control. “If you can’t take me with you, why can’t I go back to school?” + +“But that’s impossible, Janet. You are going to be Mrs. Lawson’s +secretary. Don’t be foolish. All arrangements have been made.” + +“Well, I’m eighteen,” said Dorothy with a show of temper. “My mother was +a year younger than that when she ran away and married you. I am no +longer a child. I don’t like being packed off like—like a bag of +potatoes.” + +“Are there any other reasons why you don’t want to come to Ridgefield +with me?” Mr. Lawson spoke for the first time. His words fairly dripped +with suspicion. + +“Yes, there are.” Dorothy turned on him angrily. “Daddy goes off on a +trip, and for reasons which appear to be a secret, you keep me locked in +my room for more than a week, Mr. Lawson. And you seem to wonder why I +resent it.” + +“But you have been ill, my dear Janet.” + +“If I’m so ill, why has no doctor been to see me?” Her voice was full of +scorn. + +“I have been keeping you under observation myself.” + +“Quite possibly. I’ve been allowed to see nobody except that maid who +acts as if she were deaf and dumb. If you are trying to tell me that I’m +mentally deranged, I won’t stand for it! The mere fact that you now +propose that I act as your wife’s secretary proves that you consider me +capable. What right have you to keep me a prisoner in my own home? Who +are you, Mr. Martin Lawson, to take upon yourself the regulating of my +life?” Dorothy burst into angry tears. + +“But my _dear_ child—” protested Mr. Jordan. “I’ve never seen you +behave like this—” + +“No! And up to now,” she stormed, her eyes flashing, “you’ve never given +me cause. In the first place I’m no longer a child—you forget that—and +then—what kind of a life did you give me as a child? You are my father +and you say that you love me, but can you expect deep affection from a +daughter whom you ship to boarding school at five? You wouldn’t even let +me visit friends during the holidays. For years at a time you never took +the trouble to come and see me. How can you expect love and obedience +after years of neglect?” She drew a sobbing breath, then went on: “For a +while we traveled—you were nice to me—I enjoyed it. We settled down +here. I forgave what you’d done to my childhood. I tried to make this +flat a home for you, even though I was kept like a cloistered nun and +you allowed me no friends. But this is going too far.” + +“And what, may I ask, are you going to do about it?” inquired Lawson +with a disagreeable smile. + +“What can a defenseless girl without friends do to stop two big bullies? +I shall go with you, Mr. Lawson, because I can’t help myself. But don’t +expect me to like being used as a slave, even though I may be of some +comfort to that long-suffering wife of yours. Oh, that makes you angry, +does it? Well, let me tell you, that you are not half as angry as I am. +You can practice your strong-arm methods on defenseless women and get +away with it—some day you’ll try it on a man—and by the time he gets +through thrashing you there won’t be enough left for the boneyard.” She +flashed a smile of contempt on the furious man, and turned to Mr. Jordan +who was speaking again. + +“What has come over you, Janet?” he was saying. “I’ve never heard you +speak so rudely to anyone before. You’ve always been such a quiet little +mouse—” + +“And you’ve taken advantage of it,” she interrupted. “What you forget is +that even a mouse will turn and fight when it’s cornered. If you really +loved me—if you had a spark of manhood in your selfish body, you’d +thrash this man to within an inch of his life and throw him into the +street. Get out of here—both of you!” she cried hysterically. “And +please—no more silly arguments—I don’t want to be forced to say before +outsiders what a contemptible person my father is proving himself to +be.” + +This last tirade seemed to stun Mr. Jordan. From the almost agonized +expression on his face, she saw that at last conscience was at work. The +man was utterly miserable. He could not hide it. + +“Will you—will you be ready to leave in half an hour, Janet?” His voice +was a mere whisper and shook with suppressed feeling. + +“Yes, I’ll be ready. Go now, please—both of you!” She turned her back +on them and walking over to the window, she threw up the shade and the +sash. As she stood there staring into the night, she heard them leave +the room. + +This time the door shut without being locked. Dorothy streaked across +the floor and pressed her ear to the keyhole. Just outside the men were +talking. + +“You’re a fool, Lawson, if you still think that Janet wasn’t asleep +during the meeting,” she heard her uncle say. “Tonight proves it. And +let me tell you this. From now on, my business and my home shall be kept +separate and distinct. Never again will I allow myself to be placed in a +position to be dressed down by my own daughter. There was no comeback +either. Every word she said was gospel truth. It’s a terrible thing when +a daughter makes her father realize what a low, cowardly creature he is +at heart. Well, how about it? Aren’t you now convinced of her +innocence?” + +“I am.” Lawson clipped off the words, and as he went on speaking, there +was insolence as well as a hint of nervousness in his tone. “But when it +comes to giving me a thrashing, Number 5—well, I shouldn’t try it if I +were you—not if you value your—er—health!” + +“Stop talking like a fool!” retorted Janet’s father. “Is the girl to be +sent to Ridgefield or not?” + +“Now you’re talking rot, yourself,” snapped Lawson. “You know quite as +well as I do that Laura won’t take our word for it. She told me this +morning that any clever woman or girl for that matter, could twist a man +around her finger without half trying. Laura wants to study your +daughter herself—and that’s all there is to it.” + +“I hope Mrs. Lawson has a pleasant time of it.” Mr. Jordan said +sarcastically. “But I’m afraid my hope will not be granted.” + +“Laura,” answered that lady’s husband, “can be rather disagreeable +herself when she’s roused. Let us hope for Janet’s sake, that she +doesn’t try her tantrums on my wife. By the way, what are you doing +now?” + +“Getting away just as fast as I can, thank you. No more scenes for me, +tonight. I wouldn’t meet Janet on her way out of here for a million +dollars!” + +They moved further along the hall and Dorothy went slowly back to the +window. Across the narrow court, two flights up, the shaded windows of +Howard Bright’s flat shone a dull golden yellow in the black wall. For +several minutes she stood watching the windows, her thoughts upon what +she had done and what she had just heard. + +Suddenly, shadows appeared on one of the yellow rectangles. The shade +was raised and framed in the window were Janet and Howard. Just behind +them stood a stranger who wore the round, conventional collar of a +clergyman. The young couple were smiling happily. Both waved, and Janet +held up her left hand. + +Dorothy knew the significance of that gesture, and threw them a kiss. +Then she saw the shade roll down, and she turned away. + +“And so they were married and lived happily ever after.” She sighed. +“Uncle Sanborn kept his promise, like the fine old sport he is.” + +She stuffed the last of Janet’s belongings into the trunk, slammed it +shut and locked it. + +“Now for the dirty work—and Laura Lawson.” She smiled grimly and went +to the closet for Janet’s hat and coat. + + + + + Chapter VIII + + “WALK INTO MY PARLOR” + + +The sedan, with Martin Lawson driving and Dorothy beside him, purred +smoothly through the dank, cold night. Now that they were past the realm +of traffic lights, it lopped off the miles between them and Ridgefield +with the regularity of an electric saw cutting planks from a log. + +During the entire journey, now nearly over, Dorothy had spoken no word +to the man beside her. She wanted him to believe that she was still +furiously angry. As a matter of fact, she had felt antagonistic toward +him from the first moment she laid eyes upon him; his smug overgrooming, +the highly polished fingernails, the small waxed moustache and too +immaculate clothing, all repelled her. She knew at once what it had +taken Janet some time to realize: Martin Lawson might be and probably +was a very clever man; he was, on the other hand, a man to be wary of. +His manner was just a little too complacent, too smooth. Notwithstanding +the forewarning she had received regarding his character, Dorothy knew +instinctively that he was not genuine and not a trustworthy person in +any respect. She detested him thoroughly. + +He was a careful driver, she gave him credit for that. They found little +traffic to impede their progress along the Boston Post Road, once the +long tentacles of the great city were left behind. But the black swath +of highway leading out and on from their moisture-coated headlights +glistened wetly in their reflection. After they turned into the hills +behind Stamford, heading for the Connecticut Ridge Country, the road for +a mile or more at a stretch was covered with wet leaves. They crawled +along at a snail’s pace to prevent skidding and a crash into the New +England stone fences that rambled along the roadside dividing woodland +from the rolling meadows. + +Just beyond New Canaan, they drove past Dorothy’s home and Bill +Bolton’s, for the properties faced each other across the ridge road. +Before they reached Vista it was raining dismally, and Lawson had the +windshield wiper going. Dorothy was thankful that the sixty-mile journey +from New York was nearly over. At last they reached the outskirts of +Ridgefield, and the car swung into a driveway between high pillars of +native stonework. In the glow from the electric globes on the gate +posts, the blue stone driveway curved and twisted like a huge snake, +winding through landscaped lawns and gardens as formal and precise as a +public park. + +It was raining harder now, and Dorothy could see nothing beyond the path +of their headlights. Although she had never been in the grounds before, +she had driven past the Winn place numbers of times. Finally, she made +out the bulk of a great stone house. Martin Lawson stopped the car +beneath a porte-cochere. They had arrived. + +Massive doors of wrought iron and glass swung open. A butler and two +footmen in livery ran down the steps. The butler, a tall, +important-looking individual, snapped open the car door. + +“Good evening, Mr. Lawson,” he said. “Good evening, Miss.” + +The voice with its high-pitched Oxford drawl still smacked of +Whitechapel. Dorothy, who had travelled in England, was sure that under +stress, the cockney in this personage would come out. She knew he was +careful of his aitches. + +“Good evening, Tunbridge,” Lawson returned briskly, and Dorothy smiled +pleasantly. “Is Mrs. Lawson still up?” + +“Madam is awaiting you in the library, sir.” Tunbridge helped Dorothy to +alight and handed Janet’s overnight bag to a footman. “Jones,” he said +to the other flunky, as Lawson stepped out of the car, “drive round to +the service entrance. Miss Jordan’s box is in the back of the car. See +that it is taken up to the Pink Bedroom and have Hanley garage the +motor-car.” + +“Very good, sir,” returned the man, and he got into the automobile. + +Tunbridge ushered them up the broad stone steps. Dorothy caught a last +glimpse of a leafless, dripping hedge across the drive, and the giant +skeleton arms of a tree that seemed to menace earth and sky; then she +entered the house, wondering what the next act of this strange drama +would bring forth. + +She found herself in an enormous hall, furnished with objects such as +she had never seen outside a museum. Elaborately carved oak, suits of +armor, stone urns, portraits, a wide stone staircase mounting upward to +surrounding galleries, stained glass windows, tigers’ and lions’ heads, +antlers of tremendous size, strange and beautiful weapons, all ranged in +confusion before her eyes and suggested a baronial castle rather than +the home of an American scientist, in the Connecticut hills. + +Tunbridge led to a door on the right, where he knocked, then opened, as +a muffled “Come in” was heard. + +“Miss Jordan and Mr. Lawson, Madam,” announced the butler, and he stood +aside to let them pass. + +Dorothy walked into a room whose walls seemed built of books. The +furniture was richly attractive and looked luxuriously comfortable. A +fire blazed in a fine chimney and a table near it was set with a glitter +of splendid silver and hot water plates below shining metal covers. + +A tall, superbly beautiful woman, with dark eyes and coal-black hair +that grew in a widow’s peak on her brow, rose from a chair on the wide +hearth and came toward them. Her clear, white skin, and a broad streak +of silver across the black hair gave her a strangely ethereal +appearance, as though she might have been a being from another planet. +The hand she held out to Dorothy was exquisitely formed, the fingers +long and tapering. + +“How do you do, Janet,” she said pleasantly. “Welcome to Winncote. You +are later than we expected. The Doctor has gone to bed, but he left his +greetings.” + +“Thank you,” Dorothy returned formally and shook hands. “You are very +kind, Mrs. Lawson.” + +Laura Lawson gave her a smile, but the girl saw that it was a smile of +the lips alone, her dark eyes remained somber. “Did you have a +breakdown?” she asked her husband, taking notice of him for the first +time. + +“Slippery roads—it was impossible to do much more than crawl, Laura.” +He lifted a dish cover on the table and inspected its contents. “Glad +you thought to order supper—I’m famished.” + +“So am I,” admitted his wife and her words seemed to carry a double +meaning. “It’s long after three. Come over here by the fire and get +warm, Janet. Now Tunbridge—if you’ll please serve us?” + +Tunbridge seated them at the supper table and uncovered the dishes. + +“Just a light meal,” announced the hostess, “scrambled eggs, toast and +cocoa, but it will warm you up and help you last until breakfast.” + +“It looks delicious!” said Dorothy, who discovered at the sight of food +that she was starving. In fact all three were hungry, and for some +little time conversation was dropped while the soft-footed Tunbridge +waited upon them. + +“We will have a chat tomorrow, Janet,” Mrs. Lawson said presently. +“Tonight you are tired and so am I. We take breakfast in our rooms. Ring +for it when you’re ready, but don’t hurry about getting up, I’ll see you +down here about eleven-thirty. Have you had enough to eat and drink, my +dear?” + +“Plenty, thank you, Mrs. Lawson.” Dorothy thought it would be just as +well if she played the demure mouse until she had a chance to size up +her employer. + +“Then I think we’ll go upstairs, Janet, and I’ll show you your room.” +She looked at her husband. “You’ll be coming up soon, Martin?” + +“Just as soon as I finish this pipe, and get a bit warmer.” + +“I think,” said Mrs. Lawson, “that both you and Janet had better take a +hot lemonade before you go to bed. I don’t want to have you both laid up +with colds tomorrow.” She smiled solicitously at the girl. + +“I hate the filthy stuff,” protested her husband. + +“Don’t be ridiculous,” she answered coldly and turned to the butler. +“Tunbridge, have hot lemonades sent to Miss Jordan and Mr. Lawson in +about twenty minutes, if you please.” + +“Very good, madam.” + +Laura Lawson slipped her arm through Dorothy’s. “Don’t be long, Martin.” + +“I won’t. Good night, Janet.” + +“Good night, Mr. Lawson.” + +Mrs. Lawson seemed lost in thought as they slowly mounted the stone +stairs. Suddenly she began chattily: “Men are such stupid creatures, +Janet. So stupid about taking medicine or anything else that may be good +for them. Martin and that hot lemonade is a case in point. I hope that +you haven’t any foolish ideas like that?” + +“Oh, no, indeed. I’m rather fond of it.” + +“That’s fine. Now promise me you’ll get into bed and drink it just as +hot as possible. There’s nothing better to ward off a cold, and you’ll +sleep like a top into the bargain. Well, here’s your room, my dear. It’s +late, so I won’t come in, but I think you’ll find all you need to make +you comfortable. If you want anything, ring. Good night, Janet. Sleep +well.” + +“I’m sure I will, Mrs. Lawson. Good night.” + +The older woman passed along the gallery and Dorothy entered her +bedroom. It was a good-sized room, attractively furnished with +everywhere evidence of a woman’s taste. Pink-shaded electric candles +gleamed from the walls papered in cream and scattered with tiny pink +rosebuds. The small grey-painted bed displayed pink pillow cases, sheets +and blankets. A dainty writing desk in one corner of the room was also +painted grey as was the chaise longue and the chairs, where the +upholstery carried out the note of pink. A soft grey rug, pink-bordered, +covered the floor, and Dorothy’s feet sank into its thick, warm pile as +she investigated her new quarters. She saw that the room was nearly +square, and opposite the door a rounded alcove sheltered a bow window, +hung with pink taffeta, and the window seat below it was cushioned in +pink. + +In a corner against the wall stood Janet’s wardrobe trunk, and near it +was a door that led into a spacious closet. Dorothy hung her coat on a +padded hanger, and then looked into the rose and onyx tiled bath. + +As she re-entered the bedroom she stopped short in surprise. A small +piece of white paper protruded from beneath the door to the gallery. +Quickly she stooped, snatched the paper and opened the door. The gallery +was empty. Crossing to the balustrade she looked down upon the great +entrance hall. That also was deserted and nobody was to be seen on the +staircase. + +She turned back, closed and locked her door. Then she spread out the +paper she had crumpled in her hand. Printed on one side in pencil she +read the words: + +“BE ON YOUR GUARD. DO NOT DRINK THE LEMONADE. DESTROY THIS AT ONCE.” + +“Now I wonder...” Dorothy muttered softly, “who sent me this note?” + + + + + Chapter IX + + IN THE NIGHT + + +Dorothy turned over the piece of paper to find as she expected that the +other side was blank. No signature. Nothing but the double warning, and +the admonition to destroy the missive and to do so at once. Evidently +the writer either believed or knew for certain that she would shortly be +disturbed. There was no fireplace in the bedroom. Even though she tore +the note into bits, some of the scraps might be found and pieced +together should she throw them out the window; and her room might be +searched at any time. How could she make way with it? For a moment or +two Dorothy was at a loss. Mechanically her fingers tore the paper into +fine shreds. + +Then she smiled. “I guess we’ll let the plumbing take care of you,” she +said, gazing down on the little pile of paper on her palm, and she +disappeared into the bathroom. + +When she returned, Dorothy opened Janet’s over-night bag, took out a +pair of green silk pajamas, bedroom slippers and toilet accessories, +among which was a new toothbrush in a case. This, and the underwear she +had on were the only belongings of her own that she had retained. + +From Janet’s purse, she extracted the trunk key. After some rummaging in +that large travelling wardrobe, she found a quilted bathrobe of pale +pink satin on a hanger toward the back. It was too late to unpack +entirely, and she was about to close and relock the trunk, when she +decided to leave it open. The Janet Jordan she was portraying had never +waked up at the famous meeting of last week. That Janet would feel +outraged at her imprisonment, her father’s seeming callousness and would +naturally be furious at being packed up here willy-nilly: but she would +have no cause to be suspicious of these people in this big stone house. +If she had locked the trunk—Dorothy realized she had almost made a +mistake, although a minor one—and in her present position mistakes were +dangerous affairs. + +Although it was very late and the day had been a strenuous one Dorothy +did not feel tired. While she undressed, she went over in her mind the +new vistas opened up by this mysterious note she had just destroyed. As +she dissected it word by word from memory, she was astonished to find +that the scrap of paper carried much interesting information between the +lines. + +Undoubtedly, Ashton Sanborn had planted a member of his organization in +the house, but how that had been possible, she could not imagine. First +of all, there was the warning to be on her guard. That Mrs. Lawson was +indicated she had no doubt. Her hostess, while seeming most charming and +courteous, had nevertheless suggested the hot lemonade which the note +told her not to drink. It was quite likely that her unknown adviser had +reason to think that the lemonade would be drugged. And then these +people could hardly mean to poison her so soon after her arrival. For +their whole idea in bringing her to Winncote, as she understood it, was +to make sure whether the real Janet had heard their secrets or not. +No—they merely wanted her to sleep soundly. But why? + +Dorothy pondered on this for several minutes. There could be only one +reason, she decided. Somebody was planning to enter her bedroom tonight, +and wished to do so without her knowledge. What their purpose might be +she could not guess and she did not bother about it. To a girl of a +nervous temperament, such as Janet Jordan, the knowledge that such a +visit was planned and success arranged for by means of a drug, would +have been torture. But Dorothy, who could feel “Flash” in his holster +just above her knee was merely worried for fear that lemonade or no +lemonade she would fall asleep. The arrival here had been uneventful +enough after what had happened at the Jordans’ apartment. At least, to +all outward appearances it had been smooth sailing. She was beginning to +realize that nothing with these people was what it seemed to be. She had +climbed her Vesuvius and was standing at the crater’s edge. Already the +first rumblings of the eruption had been heard. + +Her position, though seemingly secure, was nothing of the kind. The +sooner Ashton Sanborn gave her the orders he had promised, and she could +carry them out and get away from this place, the better for Dorothy +Dixon. And yet she could not help a feeling of exhilaration. + +There came a gentle knock on her door. Wearing her quilted wrapper and +slippers she turned the key and opened to—the imposing Tunbridge. He +bore a small tray on which stood a steaming tumbler, a bowl of sugar, +two spoons and a napkin. “Your hot lemonade, Miss Jordan,” he announced +in his pompous voice and rather as though he were offering her a +priceless gift. “Mrs. Lawson’s instructions are to drink it after you +get in bed, Miss. May I mention also that it is very hot?” + +Dorothy took the tray. “Thank you, Tunbridge, I’ll be careful. Good +night!” + +“Good night, Miss.” + +The butler departed in the direction of the stairway, and Dorothy closed +the door and locked it again. + +She set the tray on a chair beside her bed and put two spoonfuls of +sugar into the tall glass. It was too hot for anyone to drink yet, so +she went into the bathroom to get ready for bed. + +Five minutes later she switched off all the lights except the one on the +head board. Then she got into bed, picked up the glass and stirred her +lemonade, making sure that the spoon tinkled against the glass. If +anyone was listening outside her door they would naturally think she was +drinking the stuff. + +After waiting a moment or two longer, she set the glass down on the tray +with a thump that might have been heard on the gallery. But the glass +remained in her hand. Off went her light now, and still holding the +lemonade she got quickly and quietly out of bed. A silent trip to the +bathroom in the dark and she emptied the lemonade into her washbowl. +Then she came back and placed the empty glass on the tray. She hurried +over to the bow window, opened a sash, turned off the heat in the +radiator and crawled into bed again. + +The bed was to the left of the door as one entered the room. By lying on +her right side Dorothy held the entire room within her view. After the +soft glare from the shaded electric lights, it seemed inky black, but +soon her eyes grew accustomed to the gloom. In the wall just beyond the +foot of the bed was the closed door of her closet. The trunk stood +beyond that in the corner. The alcove and window seat took up a large +section of the farther wall and in the corner, diagonally across from +where she lay was a dark spot—the writing desk. Opposite her bed was +the half open door to the bathroom. The dressing table, the door to the +hall but a few feet from her head—mentally she had completed her tour +of the room. + +Then for a long while, or so it seemed to the excited girl, she lay +there waiting. Of course her door was locked, but the affair of the +Winged Cartwheels a few months before had taught Dorothy that keys may +be turned from the outside with a pair of small pincers. Her mind now +set itself on the key in the door. In vain she listened for the warning +click that would come when it turned in the lock. Now that she was lying +in bed she began to discover how tired she was. It became harder and +harder to stay awake. + +She knew that she must have dozed, for without warning a light appeared, +a golden circle on the center of the rug. Instantly she was wide awake +and her hand beneath the blankets drew her throwing knife from its +sheath. Through half-closed eyelids she made out a dark figure holding a +flash light pointed toward the floor. + +Then the glowing circle moved to the empty glass beside her bed, and +Dorothy closed her eyes. For a moment it rested upon her face and she +heard a low chuckle. Dorothy knew that voice. Her visitor was Laura +Lawson. + +The light swept away from her face. Mrs. Lawson touched the wall switch +by the door and the bedroom sprang into light. The drug in the lemonade +must have been a strong one, for it was evident that the intruder had no +fear of her awakening. Without wasting another glance on Dorothy, Laura +Lawson went to the wardrobe trunk and commenced a detailed inspection of +its contents. + +The woman’s back was turned, so Dorothy had no difficulty in watching +her movements. Everything in the trunk was taken out, glanced at and put +back exactly as it had been. This took some time, and it was fully half +an hour before her hostess finished with the trunk. Next she overhauled +the small travelling bag and the purse. Then the empty drawers of the +dressing table and desk came under the woman’s eye. The pillows and +cushions of the window seat were lifted. The rug was turned back. Every +nook and cranny of the room and closet came under observation. Then she +went into the bathroom. + +“What under the shining canopy can she be looking for?” Dorothy +marveled. “It can’t be the note I got tonight. She proposed the lemonade +before that could have been written. I wonder if she’ll search the bed? +She mustn’t find Flash—” + +When Laura Lawson returned to the bedroom, she saw that the sleeper had +turned over and was now facing the wall. For a moment she gazed down on +the girl, then her hand crept under the pillow. Finding nothing there, +the covers were pulled back to the foot of the bed. + +Dorothy felt the cold breeze from the open window blowing on her +pajamaed body, but she did not move. Presently sheet, blankets and silk +comfort were replaced and the woman left the bedside. Dorothy chuckled +inwardly. Flash was still safe. She was lying on him. + +Off went the light. Dorothy knew that Mrs. Lawson’s slippered feet would +make no sound on the thick pile of the rug. She waited to hear the door +open and close, but heard nothing. With her face to the wall, she could +see nothing. The strain of lying motionless became nerve wracking. What +was the woman doing anyhow? Slowly she rolled over again. So far as she +could tell, the room was empty. + +For what seemed an age Dorothy lay, listening. Except for the wind +sighing through the bare trees outside her window, there was no other +sound. She felt nervous and unpleasantly excited. She must know if the +door had been left unlocked. Slipping out of bed she tiptoed across to +it and tried the handle. The door did not give. + +Suddenly she froze against the panels. A dim glow appeared on the +opposite wall as the closet door swung slowly back, and outlined in the +opening was the tall figure of Tunbridge. + + + + + Chapter X + + SURPRISES + + +Dorothy’s experiences, since she had shopped for neckties for her father +that morning had been quite enough to lay up the average girl for a +week, and to wreck her nerves into the bargain. Laura Lawson’s +appearance in her bedroom had strained tightened nerves to the breaking +point. + +The arrival of this second intruder was just too much. As the butler +stepped out of the closet and started to close the door, Dorothy’s +self-control snapped like a rubber band. She forgot that she was playing +a part; that it might be suicidal to show her hand so early in the game. +Fear gripped her throat. Had this man been sent to kill her? If not, +then what was he doing, stealing into her room through a secret entrance +like an assassin of the middle ages? Self-preservation bade her act. The +consequences could take care of themselves. + +“Stop!” The harsh whisper, as her hand dove for Flash, sounded like the +voice of a stranger. “Move another step, and I’ll pin you to that door!” +Flash was in her raised hand now, the extended blade reflecting the +light in the closet as though the polished steel were glass. + +She saw the man start in surprise and turn his head in her direction. As +she was about to hurl the knife, Tunbridge found his voice. + +“Ashton Sanborn sent me, Miss Dixon. Please don’t throw that knife.” + +Gone was the English accent, and the pompous intonation of the British +man servant. Tunbridge, if that were really his name, spoke the American +Dorothy was accustomed to hear, the accents of the cultured New +Englander. For the second time in her life, Dorothy fainted. + +She awoke to find herself in bed. Tunbridge was beside it. She could +just make out his tall, powerful figure in the darkness. + +“Goodness—did I faint?” she said weakly. + +“You certainly did, Miss Dixon.” His tone was little above a whisper. +“Please don’t raise your voice—and drink this. I found the aromatic +spirits of ammonia in the bathroom. You need something to steady you. No +one is cast iron—you’ve been through a frightful lot today.” + +Dorothy took the glass and drained it. Then she lay back on her pillow. +“I got the scare of my life just now. Why didn’t Ashton Sanborn tell me +about you, Mr.—” + +“Tunbridge is really my name, Miss Dixon. John Tunbridge, and very much +at your service. I was afraid my rather abrupt appearance would startle +you, and especially coming so soon after Mrs. Lawson’s—er—visit. I got +a shock myself when I saw your white figure by the door just now, and +all ready to split me with that knife, like—like a macaroon.” He +chuckled, and removing the tray, sat down on the chair beside her bed. + +“Oh, then you’ve seen Ashton Sanborn this evening, Mr. Tunbridge?” + +“Heard from him, Miss Dixon. As you must know by now, I am a secret +service operative and I am working under Mr. Sanborn. There isn’t time +to go into detail now, but a couple of months ago, our department +received an anonymous letter saying that Doctor Winn would bear +watching. Shortly before that the Doctor had engaged Mrs. Lawson, who is +an expert chemist by the way, to take charge of his laboratory. Her +husband has been Doctor Winn’s secretary since last spring. We thought +at that time that Mrs. Lawson might be the mysterious letter writer. +Since then we’ve altered our opinion. Mr. Sanborn decided that inasmuch +as Doctor Winn was working for the government it would be well to have a +secret service man in the house. We prevailed upon the butler here to +resign and I took his place.” + +“Then Doctor Winn knows you’re a government detective?” + +“No one in this house knows that, except you, Miss Dixon. The whole +matter was arranged through an employment agency. Doctor Winn and the +others here have no idea that I, like you, am simply playing a part.” + +“Well, you’re certainly a splendid actor, Mr. Tunbridge.” + +“Thank you, Miss Dixon. As you’ve no doubt discovered, acting, +convincing acting, often plays a large part in our profession. You are +doing brilliantly in that respect yourself. Mr. Sanborn thought, +however, that it would be better if you did not know about me until the +necessity arose. Mrs. Lawson, he knew would be watching you like a hawk +when you arrived. If you had been aware of my identity, your position +would only have been more difficult. She might have had her suspicions +aroused in some way, which would have given you a wrong start from the +beginning. I think you will realize tomorrow how hard it will be to +treat me as though I were merely Tunbridge the butler.” + +“Oh, I think you’re right. Tell me, how did you find out about the +lemonade?” + +“I overheard the Lawsons talking, yesterday. Made it my business in +fact. It seems that Mrs. Lawson has had the idea that if Janet Jordan +was only shamming sleep at that meeting, she would do her best to +communicate with her father in some way. The natural thing to do would +be to write a note and slip it in his hand or his pocket, when he came +to see her. Martin Lawson was sure he would detect anything of the kind +when he brought Jordan to say goodbye to Janet tonight at the flat. If +not, the plan was to drug the girl with hot lemonade so that Mrs. Lawson +could search her belongings for the note tonight.” + +Dorothy nodded. “I watched her closely while she was in here, and so far +as I could make out she didn’t find anything that interested her +particularly. The Lawsons must have guessed wrong about Janet writing +her father.” + +“Well, no, they didn’t,” declared her new ally. “Janet wrote a letter, +just as they surmised.” + +“But where could it be?” asked Dorothy in a startled whisper, and sat +bold upright in bed. + +“Probably destroyed by this time,” Mr. Tunbridge chuckled. “There’s no +need to worry on that score, Miss Dixon. When Ashton Sanborn spoke to +your cousin this afternoon by means of Howard Bright’s headphone set, he +learned that Janet proposed doing just what this clever pair here +figured upon. Of course she had already written the note, and as there +was no safe way to get rid of it in her room, he told her to take it +with her when she left. And now if you’ll be good enough, I wish you’d +tell me what happened after you took her place in the flat.” + +Dorothy gave him a short sketch of her encounter with her uncle and +Martin Lawson in Janet’s room, and of the conversation between the two +men in the corridor afterward. “All the way up here,” she ended, “I +pretended I had a grouch. Mr. Lawson tried to start a conversation +several times, but he soon found it wasn’t much fun talking to himself +and he gave it up as a bad job.” + +“Excellent,” applauded the secret service man, “and quite in keeping +with your behavior in the flat. You have done most remarkably well, Miss +Dixon. Only—you won’t mind if I warn you not to let first success make +you careless.” + +“Do you really believe that these people mean to do away with me if they +discover I am not what I appear to be, Mr. Tunbridge? It sounds a bit +too melodramatic, don’t you think?” + +“These Lawsons, husband and wife, are playing for gigantic stakes.” The +detective’s voice, though barely audible was extremely grave. “They will +stop at nothing. When crooks have at least two murders behind them, +they’re not likely to stop at a third.” + +“Then—then they are _not_ what they pretend?” + +“Certainly not. They’re a pair of high class European crooks named +du Val.” + +Dorothy shuddered. “And _murderers_!” + +“Undoubtedly. They’re wanted both in England and in Austria for their +crimes.” + +“How did you find that out?” + +“Oh, you see I recognized them when I arrived here, Miss Dixon.” + +“But—but I can’t see why—why you didn’t arrest them then and there! +You knew that they were after the secret of Doctor Winn’s new explosive, +or whatever it is he has invented.” + +“Yes, we realized that the formula for Doctor Winn’s explosive gas was +the magnet that drew the du Vals to this house; but until today we had +no idea how they proposed to dispose of the formula after stealing it.” + +“I see. And now you realize that they probably intend to sell it to the +organization of which my uncle is a member?” + +“You are right, Miss Dixon.” + +“Then why can’t you arrest the Lawsons now?” + +“We can take the Lawsons at any time,” Tunbridge explained. “But we want +to catch the ringleader of this organization. We know the group exists +and for no good purpose, but what their definite object may be we still +have no means of telling. We can’t arrest them on suspicion alone. Once +they actually buy the formula from the Lawsons, it will be quite a +different matter.” + +She shook her head slowly. “But why hasn’t the formula been stolen +before this? They’ve had plenty of opportunity, surely—” + +“Because it is not completed. At dinner tonight I heard the Doctor say +that by tomorrow afternoon the work would be finished, and that he +expected to take the formula to Washington the day after tomorrow.” + +“Then you expect?—” + +“I expect that the Lawsons will make their attempt tomorrow night.” + +“And where do I come in on this business, Mr. Tunbridge?” + +“You are going to take the plans from Doctor Winn’s safe before the +Lawsons get to it.” + +She drew her breath sharply. “That’s a pretty large order—” + +“I know it, but—of course you’ll have the combination of the safe—” + +“Are you going to give it to me now?” + +“Too dangerous. They are quite capable of searching your belongings +again—or your person, for that matter—at any time. I’ll get it to you +with exact instructions just as soon as the Doctor completes that +blooming formula and locks it in the safe.” + +“That’s all very well, Mr. Tunbridge. But has it occurred to you that if +I steal this paper—I suppose it will be a paper?—” + +“Probably several of them—” + +“Well, if I take these papers before the Lawsons can get them, how are +you going to arrest my uncle and the other men?” + +“You,” directed Tunbridge, “will simply make a copy and replace the +original documents where you found them. This is a safety-first move. We +must have a copy in case the originals are destroyed.” + +“It looks like a very complicated matter to me,” Dorothy admitted +candidly. “Why not put the old gentleman wise? After all, it’s his +formula, and if he made his own copy it would save us a possible run-in +with the Lawsons, and—” + +Mr. Tunbridge stood up. “Perhaps you’re right,” he said, making a brave +attempt to stifle a yawn, “but Doctor Winn would never agree to it. For +a scientist who dabbles in high explosives, he’s the most nervous man +I’ve ever met. He’d give the whole show away. No, that’s out of the +question. Doctor Winn must be kept in ignorance of the whole proceeding. +And now—” a yawn got the better of him this time— “and now to bed. You +need sleep even more than advice just now. Good night, or rather, good +morning, Miss Dixon. Pleasant dreams, I hope.” + +He started toward the door and Dorothy sprang out of bed and reached for +her dressing gown. + +“I want to see that secret passage, Mr. Tunbridge,” she said in a low +tone. + +“Oh, yes, come along.” He opened the door and stepped inside the closet. +“It works this way. Press your foot on the board in the farthest right +hand corner, like this, and a panel in the back wall slides up—like +that—” + +Dorothy stared at the gaping black hole, then as the detective-butler +snapped on his flashlight she saw that a narrow circular staircase led +downward in the wall. + +“That stair curves down to the ground floor,” he explained. “It comes +out through the side wall inside the big fireplace in the hall. To open +the panel down there you press a button under the left-hand corner of +the mantel. To close either panel you simply put it down, once you’re +inside.” + +“Are there any more of these passages in the walls?” + +“Very likely, but I haven’t found them yet. Winncote is an exact copy of +the Doctor’s ancestral home in Wales. Those old houses were honeycombed +with priest holes, secret passages and whatnot. And Doctor Winn had his +architect copy the original Winncote across the water down to the last +stone, with modern improvements such as bathrooms and steam heat, +added.” + +“Funny old fellow, isn’t he?” commented Dorothy sleepily. “Then I’m +simply to carry on until I hear from you again?” + +“That’s right. But whatever you do, watch your step with the Lawson +woman. She is fully as heartless as she is beautiful. If you had never +heard of that meeting in the Jordans’ flat, it would be much better for +you. She will try to trap you, so please be on your guard continually. +Well, good night, again.” + +“Good night, Mr. Tunbridge.” + +The panel in the back wall of the closet slid into place, and Dorothy +went back to bed. She realized now that this matter of impersonating her +cousin was not going to prove to be the easy job she had fancied. A slip +on her part now would not only put her own life in danger, it would +probably ruin all government plans to apprehend these desperate +criminals. + +At last she fell into a troubled sleep wherein she dreamed that a long +circular staircase curved round and round her bedroom, and that Mrs. +Lawson, dressed as a butler, had set her to watch every step of it. + + + + + Chapter XI + + GRETCHEN + + +Dorothy awoke from troubled dreams to find that it was another day. +Through the open window she saw the swirl of snowflakes driven in a high +wind. The bedroom was cold and in the grey light of the winter morning +it had lost its cheerful air. + +She heard a knock on the door. + +“Who’s there?” she called drowsily. + +“It’s the maid, miss. Mrs. Lawson thought you might be wanting your +breakfast now.” + +Dorothy looked at her wrist watch. The hands marked ten-thirty. She +jumped out on the rug, which felt cold and clammy under her bare feet, +went to the door and unlocked it. Then she scampered back to bed and +snuggled under the warm covers. + +In walked a trim little figure wearing the small white apron and gray +uniform of a chambermaid. Dorothy saw a round merry face, and a pair of +big blue eyes beneath the white lawn cap, and thick flaxen braids were +coiled round the neat head. She was surprised and somehow pleased to +discover that this attractive member of the household staff could not be +much more than sixteen, just her own age. + +The little maid shut the door softly, crossed to the window and closed +it, turned on the steam heat and came to the bedside. “Good morning, +Miss Jordan.” She smiled engagingly. “I’m Gretchen, miss. Will you have +your breakfast in bed?” + +“Why, thank you, Gretchen—that will be cozy. But if it’s going to give +you any trouble, don’t bother.” With the covers drawn up to her eyes, +Dorothy smiled back at the girl. + +“Oh, no, miss—it’s no trouble at all.” Gretchen was insistent. “It’s +all ready now. I’ll run down and bring it up.” + +She whisked out of the room and Dorothy rolled over for another cat-nap. + +“If you’ll be good enough to sit up now, Miss Jordan—I have your +breakfast here.” + +Dorothy awoke again, yawned and stretched luxuriously. Gretchen stood +beside her bed with the breakfast tray. + +“If you’ll be good enough to sit up, miss?” she repeated. + +Dorothy punched the pillows into position behind her, slipped the +quilted gown about her shoulders and leaned back. Gretchen moved +nearer—then almost dropped the tray. + +“Why—why—miss—” + +Dorothy leaned over and steadied the tray. “What’s the matter, +Gretchen?” The little maid was staring at her open-mouthed, her big blue +eyes as round as saucers. + +“Oh, I—I beg your pardon, but it’s—it’s the resemblance, miss—Miss +Jordan.” She set the tray over Dorothy’s knees and drew back still with +that astonished look. “I couldn’t see you very well before, miss, with +the covers up to your eyes. But when you sat up, it sure did give me a +start.” + +“What do you mean, Gretchen? The resemblance to whom?” Dorothy, +outwardly calm, fingered her glass of orange juice, but her thoughts +raced toward this new complication. + +“Why, you look so much like Dorothy Dixon—the flyer, you know, miss. +She’s my hero—I mean, heroine, Miss Jordan. I’ve read everything the +newspapers printed about her and Bill Bolton. You must have read about +them too, everybody has?” + +“Oh, yes, I’ve heard about them.” Dorothy hoped her tone sounded +indifferent. “But you know, Gretchen, newspaper pictures are often very +poor likenesses.” + +The girl smiled and nodded. “I know that, Miss Jordan. I’ve got them all +and there isn’t no two of the pictures that looks alike.” + +“Then how—?” + +“You see, it wasn’t the newspaper pictures I was thinking of, miss, but +Dorothy Dixon herself. You see I know Miss Dixon,” she went on proudly, +“and you two are certainly the spittin’ images of each other, if you +don’t mind my saying so.” + +Dorothy minded very much, but it was not consistent with the part she +was playing to admit it. Here was a contretemps not even Ashton Sanborn +had foreseen. Yet, of course, New Canaan was only ten miles away. She +had many friends in Ridgefield, and she’d been there hundreds of times. +But she simply couldn’t remember having seen Gretchen in any of their +homes. Her answer was but a feeble stall for time. + +“So you know her then?” she said lamely. + +“Oh, yes, miss. Not well, you understand. I saw her and Mr. Bill Bolton +first when they finished the endurance test on the Conway motor this +fall. Then a few days later, I drove over to her house in our +flivver—over to New Canaan, you know, and I called on Miss Dixon. I +wanted her to autograph a picture of herself I’d cut out of the Sunday +paper.” + +“And you met her?” Dorothy remembered the incident perfectly now. But +the maid’s uniform—and her hair—when she had seen her, Gretchen had +worn two braids over her shoulders, very much the schoolgirl. No wonder +she hadn’t recognized her. But now what should she do? Would it be +possible to keep up this camouflage with a girl whom she had met and +with whom she would come in daily contact? Gretchen was talking again. + +“Yes indeed, I met her. And she was just darling to me, Miss Jordan. She +even gave me one of her own photographs and wrote on it, too. You see, +us Schmidts came over from Germany about a hundred years ago, but we’re +honest-to-goodness Americans just the same. Father was in the American +army during the war. He was an aviation mechanic. He found one of them +Iron Crosses of the Germans on some battlefield in France and kept it +for a mascot. And would you believe it, miss, Father never even got +wounded once, the whole time he was over there! Perhaps it was the +little Iron Cross, and perhaps it wasn’t. Anyway, he thought a lot of +his mascot. When I was ten years old, he had it fixed on a thin gold +chain for me to wear around my neck, and gave it to me on my birthday. +Well, when I went to see Miss Dixon this fall, I took it with me. She +goes up in her airplane so much and does so many other exciting things, +I wanted her to have it. She didn’t want to take the cross at first, but +I persuaded her to, just the same. And you don’t know how nice she was +to me, Miss! Took me out to see Will-o-the-Wisp—that’s her plane, you +know—she calls it Wispy for short. And I had a perfectly grand time. +She’s my heroine, all right. And you, miss—I hope you’ll excuse me for +talking so much about it—but you look exactly like her, and your voices +are just the same, too. It’s wonderful!” + +“So you are Margaret Schmidt,” Dorothy said slowly. + +“Yes, miss, that is so, though everybody calls me Gretchen. How did you +know my given name, Miss Jordan? Is Miss Dixon a friend of yours? Did +she tell you about me? But that’s silly—she wouldn’t remember me.” + +Dorothy looked the little maid straight in the eyes. “She remembers you, +Gretchen. Would you be willing to do something for her—to keep a +secret, a very important and maybe a dangerous one? Do you think you +could do it?” + +Gretchen looked awestruck, then she smiled. “Mother says I’m the +closest-mouthed girl she ever saw, miss. They could cut me in pieces +before I ever let out any secret of Dorothy Dixon’s. I’d never tell—not +me! You can trust me, Miss Jordan.” + +“I’m sure I can, Gretchen. And I’m going to.” Dorothy slipped her hand +into the V-neck of her pajamas. “Remember this?” + +“Why—it’s—it’s my Iron Cross—that I gave Dorothy Dixon. How in the +world—?” + +“I am Dorothy Dixon.” Dorothy broke into laughter at the bewildered +expression on the girl’s face. + +“But—but I don’t understand!” Gretchen stammered as though her tongue +was half-paralyzed. “I knew the resemblance was wonderful—but—they +said you were Miss Janet Jordan—and—” + +“You sit down on the end of the bed,” said Dorothy, “I’ll go on with my +breakfast before it gets cold, and explain at the same time. We won’t be +disturbed, will we?” + +“Oh, no, miss.” + +“How about your work, Gretchen? Will you be wanted downstairs?” + +“Mr. Tunbridge told me to unpack your trunk, miss—Miss Dixon—and to +make myself generally useful.” + +“Fine,” smiled Dorothy, pouring out a cup of coffee. “But keep on +calling me Miss Jordan—otherwise you’ll be making slips in the name in +front of other people and that would be fatal.” + +“Yes, Miss Jordan,” Gretchen grinned happily. + +“After this beastly business is over,” Dorothy went on, “we’ll be +Gretchen and Dorothy to each other.” + +The other girl looked a trifle embarrassed. “But I’m only a chambermaid, +Miss Jordan,” she said shyly. + +“Don’t be silly!” Dorothy waved away the argument with a sweep of her +spoon. “You’re proving yourself a real friend—and that’s that.” + +“Very well, Miss Jordan.” + +“Now pin back your ears, Gretchen.” Dorothy lifted the cover from her +scrambled eggs. “I am taking my cousin, Janet Jordan’s place as Mrs. +Lawson’s secretary. Nobody in this house knows who I am except Mr. +Tunbridge, nor must they be given the slightest hint that I am anybody +but Janet Jordan. As you’ve probably guessed, Janet and I look almost +exactly alike. Our mothers were twins and that probably accounts for +it.” + +“Gee—” breathed Gretchen. “It’s just like a story in a book!” + +Dorothy bit into a slice of buttered toast. “Maybe it is,” she admitted, +speaking with her mouth full. “But the point is that you and I are +living this story and it may come to a very abrupt and unpleasant ending +unless we’re both terribly careful. Let’s see—where was I? Oh, yes. Mr. +Tunbridge and I are working together on this case, working for the +United States Government.” + +“Secret Service?” asked Gretchen in an awed whisper. + +“Yes.” + +“Then I’ll be working for the secret service too?” Dorothy could see +that the girl was very much impressed with the idea. + +“You will, Gretchen—that is, you are—under me. But don’t get too +pepped up about it. The work we are on is serious and it is extremely +dangerous into the bargain. I wouldn’t have brought you into it unless I +had to. Right now I haven’t the slightest notion how you are going to be +fitted into the picture. But I couldn’t have you going around, talking +about how much Janet Jordan looks like Dorothy Dixon, could I? Doctor +Winn and the Lawsons have no idea of either the resemblance or the +relationship. If that came out and they got wind of it—well, there’s no +telling what might happen.” + +“Especially,” chimed in Gretchen, “after all the detective work you did +in those three big cases over to New Canaan this summer and fall.” + +“You’ve got it,” declared Dorothy, and sipped her coffee. “A robbery is +being planned here, Gretchen, a robbery of some very valuable papers +from Doctor Winn’s safe. The thieves will probably try to pull it off +tonight. These papers, which have to do with an invention of the +Doctor’s are worth a million dollars or more to any number of people. So +you see the thieves are playing for big stakes, and I might as well tell +you that they aren’t the kind that would let a thing like murder stop +them. And now that you know the facts, are you willing to go on with +it?” + +Gretchen seemed horrified that Dorothy should doubt her. “Oh, Miss +Jordan, I don’t want to get murdered any more than anybody else—but, +I’m not afraid—honest I’m not!” + +“I knew you were true blue,” smiled Dorothy. “So we’ll call it a deal, +shall we?” + +“You bet!” The two girls solemnly shook hands. “What do you want me to +do first, Miss Jordan?” Gretchen asked eagerly. + +“Move this tray onto the chair over there, please. Then while I’m taking +a bath and dressing you might unpack Janet Jordan’s clothes. I’ll choose +something to wear later.” + +“Very good, Miss Jordan.” The little maid took the tray, then stopped +short, her round blue eyes very serious. “But what about the secret +service work?” + +“Just carry on as usual for the present.” Dorothy slipped out of bed. +“And remember—not a word to anyone about what I’ve told you—not even +Mr. Tunbridge. I don’t know myself exactly what I’m to do yet. Mrs. +Lawson expects me downstairs in about half an hour, so I’ve got to +hustle. If I need your help later on, I’ll get word to you somehow.” + +“I hope you will need me, Miss Jordan.” Gretchen was taking Janet’s +frocks from the wardrobe trunk. + +“And I hope I shan’t!” said Dorothy, and she disappeared into the +bathroom. + + + + + Chapter XII + + TESTS + + +Dorothy came down the wide staircase a few minutes before eleven-thirty. +She wore a dark blue morning frock of her cousin’s, its simplicity +relieved only by the soft white collar and deep cuffs. Except for being +rather tight across the shoulders it fitted her as though she had been +poured into it. She had selected this dress because she knew it was just +the sort of thing a new secretary would be expected to wear. + +She crossed the broad hall to the open door of the library, and there +found Mrs. Lawson standing before a window staring into the storm. +Although Dorothy’s footsteps made practically no sound on the thick pile +of the handsome Bokhara rug, the woman turned like a flash at her +entrance. + +“Oh, good morning, Janet.” The frown on her face gave way to a pleasant +smile. “I hope you were comfortable last night. Did you sleep well?” + +“I dropped off as soon as my head touched the pillow,” she answered, +taking Mrs. Lawson’s outstretched hand. Dorothy did not believe in +telling a lie unless it was in a good cause; but when necessary, she +invariably made the lie a good one. + +“I hope the storm didn’t wake you,” smiled Laura, holding Dorothy’s +hand. + +Dorothy did not reply at once. Two long fingers were lightly pressing +her wrist, and she saw that Mrs. Lawson’s eyes had strayed to the +grandfather’s clock in the corner of the room. “Test number one,” she +said to herself. “Mrs. du Val, alias Lawson is counting my pulse. Well, +I’ve got a clear conscience, perhaps I can give her a shock.” She drew +her hand away and answered the woman’s question in her normal voice. +“Oh, the storm! No, I never heard it, Mrs. Lawson. If that hot lemonade +had been drugged, I couldn’t have slept any sounder!” + +“What makes you say that?” snapped her employer, and beneath the velvet +tone, Dorothy sensed the ring of steel. + +She dropped her eyes, and turning toward the open hearth, held out her +hands to the crackling blaze. “Oh, I don’t know,” she said sweetly and +like the clever little strategist that she was, opened her own offensive +in the enemy’s territory. “I have the bad habit of occasionally walking +in my sleep, Mrs. Lawson—and especially when I spend the night in a +strange bed. Perhaps it’s nervousness—I don’t know.” + +Mrs. Lawson threw her a sharp glance. “Sit down, Janet,” she suggested, +pointing to a chair near the fire, and taking one herself across the +hearth. “You’re—I mean, you don’t seem to be at all nervous this +morning.” + +“Good old pulse!” thought Dorothy. Then aloud—“No, I feel splendidly, +thank you. But, you see, I didn’t walk in my sleep last night.” + +“But surely you can’t tell when you do it!” + +“Oh, yes, I can.” Dorothy’s manner and tone were those of the simple +schoolgirl proud of an unusual accomplishment. + +“You don’t expect me to believe that you know what you’re doing when you +walk in your sleep, Janet. That’s impossible!” + +“Not while I’m sleepwalking, Mrs. Lawson. That wasn’t what I said—but +when I have been sleepwalking—there’s a difference, you see?” + +“Well?” The lady of the house objected to being contradicted and took no +trouble to hide it. + +“It’s really very simple,” explained Dorothy, painstakingly, as though +she were speaking to a rather stupid child. “I found out how to do it. +You see, I’ve been walking in my sleep ever since I was a little thing. +When I get in bed at night I leave my slippers on the floor beside it +pointed outward—away from the bed. We all leave them that way, I guess. +It’s the natural thing to do.” + +“But what have slippers got to do with it?” Laura was becoming +impatient. + +“Everything, so far as I’m concerned, Mrs. Lawson. When I’ve been +walking at night, I always find them in the morning beside the bed, but +pointing _toward_ it. I evidently slip them off before I get back into +bed, and—” + +“I’m beginning to think you are quite a clever girl, Janet.” + +“Oh, thank you,” said Dorothy with a guilelessness that was sheer +camouflage. “Has anybody been saying I’m stupid? I’ve always stood high +in my classes at school.” + +“Oh, not stupid, child—but nervous—perhaps a little unbalanced, +especially this past week.” + +Dorothy raised her heavy lashes and looked Mrs. Lawson squarely in the +face. This might be a test she was undergoing and it probably was; but +here was a heaven sent chance to stir up discord in the enemy’s camp. +She must work up to it gradually. + +“I know that I was nervous and upset past all endurance.” She leaned +forward, her hands on the arms of the chair. “How would you like your +father to lock you in your bedroom for a week, without ever coming to +see you, or giving you any explanation for such outrageous treatment? Am +I a child to be handled like that? To be shipped up here to strangers, +whether I wanted to go or not? How would you feel about it, Mrs. Lawson, +if you were me? Don’t say you would submit to it sitting down.” + +“But I am taking you on as my secretary,” the lady hedged. “Offering you +a good position for which you’ll be paid twenty dollars a week. That’s +not to be thought of lightly, especially in these times.” + +“But it doesn’t seem to strike you that I might like to have something +to say about it,” Dorothy replied calmly. “As for the salary—that’s no +inducement. My mother left me five thousand a year. I came into the +income on my last birthday, so you see I have nearly a hundred dollars a +week, whether I work or not.” + +“I didn’t know that, of course,” Mrs. Lawson admitted and none too +graciously. “Your father wants you to be here while he’s away. I hope +you aren’t going to be difficult, Janet.” + +“I hope not, Mrs. Lawson. I shall be glad to stay here for a while and +do the work you’d planned for me; but if I do, it must be as a guest and +not as a paid dependant.” + +“But you are a guest, Janet.” + +“I shall not accept a salary, Mrs. Lawson.” + +“Very well, my dear, if you wish it that way.” + +“Thank you very much.” + +“To get back to our former topic,” Mrs. Lawson said, and lit a +cigarette. “I can understand that your father’s conduct in confining you +to your room might be exasperating—but why should it make you nervous? +And my husband tells me that when he visited you in your room you acted +as though you were in deadly fear of something or somebody every time he +saw you. What was the trouble, Janet? Was anything worrying you?” + +“Yes, there was, Mrs. Lawson.” + +Dorothy looked down at the andirons, and her hands on the chair arms +twisted embarrassedly. From the corner of her eye she saw a smile of +satisfaction light up the older woman’s face. She knew she was playing +with fire and that Mrs. Lawson was watching her as a hawk watches its +defenseless prey before it strikes. But all unknown to her inquisitor, +Dorothy had been leading her into this trap as a move forward in her own +game. Genuine dislike for the woman as well as a mischievous impulse on +her part drew her to make the scene as dramatic and convincing as +possible. + +“Yes—I—I—was afraid,” she went on, dragging out the words slowly. + +“Then don’t you think you’d better tell me about it, Janet? I’m nearly +old enough to be your mother. Let me take your mother’s place, dear. +Give me your confidence. I feel sure I’ll be able to help you, child.” + +This reference to Janet’s dead mother by a woman who was the vilest kind +of a hypocrite swept away Dorothy’s last compunction. She herself was +going to commit justifiable libel. Mrs. Lawson, on the other hand, was +attempting to lead Janet Jordan into a confession of shamming sleep at +the fateful meeting a week ago. And such a confession meant a sentence +of death from this beautiful siren who gazed at her so winningly, who +puffed a cigarette so nonchalantly while she waited for an unsuspecting +girl to commit herself. + +“Well, I don’t know—I can’t help hesitating to tell _you_, Mrs. +Lawson,” Dorothy began timidly. + +“There’s no need to be afraid of anything,” replied the woman, only half +veiling the sneer that went with the words. + +“Oh, but you see, there is, Mrs. Lawson!” Dorothy’s manner was still +indecisive. “I don’t want—in fact, I hate awfully to hurt you this +way.” + +“Hurt me!” Mrs. Lawson’s cigarette snapped into the fireplace like a +miniature comet. “Hurt me, child? What in the wide world are you talking +about?” + +“Just what I say, Mrs. Lawson.” + +Mrs. Lawson sniffed. “Don’t be ridiculous, Janet. Out with it now. What +did you fear when you were locked in your room?” + +“Your husband, Mrs. Lawson.” + +“My husband!” + +“Yes.” + +“But—why—I don’t believe you.” + +“Oh, very well. You asked the question, I was trying to answer it, +that’s all.” + +Mrs. Lawson bit her lip. She was furious. “As long as you’ve said what +you have, you’d better go on with it,” she said acidly. + +“There isn’t any more,” returned Dorothy. “That’s all there is.” + +“But surely he must have given you reasons for your assertion.” Mrs. +Lawson had walked beautifully into Dorothy’s trap. Her own plan to snare +an unsuspecting girl had been blotted out by the shadow of the Green +Goddess, Jealousy. “Tell me what my husband did or said to make you fear +him, and tell me at once.” + +“It wasn’t what he did, Mrs. Lawson—it was the way he looked.” + +“What do you mean—the way he looked?” + +Dorothy had thrust a painful knife into the mental cosmos of her +adversary. Now she deliberately turned it in the wound. “Very probably,” +she said quietly, looking her straight in the eyes, “you can remember +how Mr. Lawson looked when he first made love to you. I don’t want to be +made love to, and I don’t like _him_, Mrs. Lawson.” + +“What did you do?” + +“I told him to leave me—and when he would not go, I simply walked into +my bathroom and locked the door.” + +“But what happened the next time he came? Martin went in to see you +every day, didn’t he?” + +“He did. But he talked to me through the bathroom door. Just as soon as +I heard the key turn in the lock I’d hop in there.” + +The man she had been talking about must have been listening just outside +in the hall, for now he strode into the room and up to Dorothy. “That,” +he said menacingly, “is a deliberate lie, Miss Janet Jordan!” + + + + + Chapter XIII + + WINNITE + + +Dorothy looked up and smiled carelessly at the man. “You’re very polite, +Mr. Lawson. Perhaps it isn’t my place to say it to a man old enough to +be my father—but eavesdroppers rarely hear good of themselves.” + +Martin Lawson, who prided himself upon his youthful appearance, grew +angrier than ever. “I—I won’t stand for such outrageous libel,” he +thundered. “I’ve always treated you as though you were my own—well, +daughter, if you like.” + +“I _don’t_ like it, Mr. Lawson—but that doesn’t make any difference,” +Dorothy’s tone was one of pained acceptance. “If you listened long +enough, you will know that I didn’t bring this matter up myself. Mrs. +Lawson was asking questions and I was trying to answer them, that’s all. +If you prefer it, I’ll say that it was the wind whistling outside the +windows that made me afraid.” She looked over at Mrs. Lawson, who was +watching them through half shut eyes, as though to say, “—you +understand, of course—anything for peace.” + +Martin Lawson intercepted the glance and became even more furious, if +that were possible. “You—you little viper!” he snarled. “Laura, don’t +you believe a word of it. The whole thing’s her own invention—a pack of +lies!” + +“A silly schoolgirl fancy, if you like, Martin.” Laura Lawson’s tone was +expressionless. “But I can understand it just the same. Yes, I can +understand it.” + +“What do you mean—you understand it?” + +“I was a girl once myself,” she replied in the same colorless tone. “And +then, you see, I know you very, very well.” + +“Oh, you do, do you?” + +“He’s off again,” sighed Dorothy, but quite to herself. + +“And you have the nerve to insinuate—?” the angry man went on, beside +himself with rage. “You know as well as I do, Laura, that this girl was +afraid because of what she saw and heard at the meeting. She—” + +“That will be quite enough, Martin.” His wife interrupted him sharply. +“And what is more—you probably have not noticed that since Janet has +been here and with other people, she is very much herself—and afraid of +nothing at all.” + +“What meeting is he talking about, Mrs. Lawson?” Dorothy pointedly +ignored the angry husband. + +Mrs. Lawson stood up. “Never mind that now,” she decreed, albeit +pleasantly. “Come along with me to my office. I have some typing I’d +like you to do for me before luncheon. Martin!” She swung round on her +husband. “You will wait here for me. I’ll be back in a few minutes—I +want to talk to you.” She slipped her arm through Dorothy’s and drew her +from the room. + +Once in the entrance hall, she led her back and under the gallery to a +corridor which opened at the right of the broad stairs. Dorothy saw that +there were several doors in the right hand wall. Mrs. Lawson stopped at +the second of these and opened it. + +They walked in and Dorothy saw that they were in the office. It seemed +very businesslike and austere after coming from the luxury of the +library and spacious hall. Near the one window stood a broad table desk, +and opposite that a typewriter desk. Two steel filing cabinets and three +plain chairs completed the room’s furnishings. The walls were hung with +framed blueprints and a large-scale map of Fairfield County, +Connecticut. + +Mrs. Lawson took some papers from a drawer in the large desk and handed +them to Dorothy. “This is in longhand, as you see,” she explained, +“please type it, double space, and I’d like to have a carbon copy.” She +glanced at a small wrist-watch set with diamonds. “It is just noon now. +Luncheon is at one. Do you think you can finish the work by that time?” + +Dorothy glanced at the manuscript. “This won’t make more than four +typewritten sheets. I can do it easily in an hour and have time to +spare.” + +“Good!” The older woman patted her lightly on the shoulder. “Take your +time about it. Do you think you can read my handwriting?” + +“Nothing could be plainer, Mrs. Lawson.” Dorothy smiled back at her. + +“Very well, then. I’ll see you at lunch. The dining room is across the +hall from the library.” + +At the door, she stopped and turned as though she had just remembered +something. + +“Don’t let what my husband said bother you, Janet.” + +“That’s forgotten already,” Dorothy said easily. + +“Like most men, he flies off the handle when irritated. Pay no attention +to it.” + +“I understand.” + +Mrs. Lawson hesitated for the fraction of a second. “By the way, Janet,” +she remarked. “When was the last time you walked in your sleep—that you +found your slippers pointed toward your bed in the morning?” + +Dorothy pretended to think. “Let me see,” she said slowly. “Yes—it was +the night before Daddy locked me in my room! I found that I couldn’t get +out in the morning, and naturally, I wanted to know the reason why. I +still do, for that matter. Except for some foolishness about my being +ill, I’m still waiting for an explanation. As a matter of fact, I was +perfectly well. I’m terribly annoyed, of course, and it worries me to +think that Daddy should act this way, but so far as my health goes, I’ve +never felt better.” + +“I’m glad to hear it, dear. We’ll check up on your father when he +returns. I’m your friend, you know. Don’t let the matter prey on your +mind.” + +“Thank you, Mrs. Lawson. I’ll try to do as you say.” Dorothy thought she +was going then, but it seemed that the woman had still another question +that she had been holding back. + +“When you are in this somnambulistic state,” she said, “when you are +sleepwalking, I mean, doesn’t it terrify you to awaken and find yourself +out of your bed?” + +Dorothy frowned and seemed puzzled. “Perhaps it would,” she admitted. +“But then, you see, I can’t remember ever wakening while I was walking +during the night. I must sleep very soundly. At school the night +watchman or one of the teachers would frequently find me walking about +the building. They would lead me back to bed, or just tell me to go +there, and I would always obey. Until they told me about it next day, I +knew nothing of course. That’s how I got onto the business of the +slippers, you see.” + +“Oh, yes. I wondered how you’d been able to check on it. Well, I must +trot along now and let you get to work. Until luncheon then, my dear.” + +She was gone at last and Dorothy made a face at the closed door. “Of all +the plausible hypocrites I’ve ever met,” she muttered, “you certainly +take the well known chocolate cake!” + +She sat down at the typewriter desk, pulled out the machine, and slipped +in two sheets of paper and a carbon that she found in one of the +drawers. Halfway through a perusal of Mrs. Lawson’s first page, she +looked up. The door opened quickly and Mr. Tunbridge came into the room. + +“I’ve just a moment,” he prefaced hurriedly. “They mustn’t find me here. +What was the row in the library?” + +Dorothy explained briefly. + +“Fine! Put you through the hoops, eh? I had a good idea she would do +something of the kind. You came out of a difficult situation with flying +colors, I take it. But be careful about run-ins with Lawson. He’s a +slick article—in fact, the two of them are a pair of the slickest +articles it’s ever been my misfortune to run across. And they’re going +it hammer and tongs in the library right now. I was a bit worried about +you, that’s why I took this chance.” + +“When do I get my instructions for tonight?” + +“Late this afternoon, probably. I’ll get them to you somehow.” + +“Thanks. And here’s something else. This script I’m going to type for +Mrs. L. has to do with the properties of a highly explosive gas which +seems to burn up everything it comes in contact with and lets off fumes +of deadly poison while it’s doing that! Shall I make a copy for you?” + +“Please do!” His hand rested on the doorknob. “Yes, it’s important that +we have a copy. That’s the stuff Doctor Winn has just invented, without +a doubt.” + +“Awful!” exclaimed Dorothy. “Just think what would happen if that were +used in a war!” + +“That’s the government’s business, Miss Dixon.” + +“‘Ours but to do—and die—’” she quoted and her tone was deadly +serious. + +“Quite right. But make the carbon copy just the same—and don’t let them +catch you at it.” + +“I won’t, Mr. Tunbridge.” + +“Bye-bye, then. I’ll get along now. There may be some home truths +floating out of the library that will give me extra dope on the +du-Val—Lawson pair.” + +The door closed, and after slipping an extra carbon and a sheet of very +thin copy paper into the typewriter, Dorothy read Mrs. Lawson’s treatise +on “Winnite and Its Properties” from start to finish. + +“Horrible!” she murmured, as she finished reading. “Simply horrible!” +Again her eyes sought the last paragraph. “The effect is easily +estimated of an airplane dropping a single bomb filled with the +explosive, inflammable and deadly poison gas, Winnite, upon Manhattan +Island, for instance: the bomb would explode upon detonation and within +an inconceivably short space of time, not only would the City of Greater +New York be in flames, but every living thing within that area would be +dead from the poison fumes. This includes not only human, animal and +insect life, but all vegetable matter as well.” + +Dorothy sighed. “And I am supposed to help keep this terrible stuff from +the hands of thieves so that our government may use it in time of war. +Well—we’ll see—and that’s not that by a long shot!” + +She put down the manuscript and began to type it. + + + + + Chapter XIV + + PROFESSOR + + +Dorothy, upon finishing the article on Winnite, laid the original and +first carbon copy of the typewritten sheets on Mrs. Lawson’s desk. The +almost transparent sheets of the second carbon copy she folded carefully +as though she meant to place them in an envelope. But instead of this, +her right foot slipped out of its walking pump, the sheer silk stocking +followed it. Then she put on the stocking again, but now the soft papers +rested between the stocking and the sole of her foot. The pump fitted +more snugly than before, although not uncomfortably so. Content with her +morning’s work, she had closed the typewriter and was studying the +effect of a new shade of powder in her compact mirror when Mrs. Lawson +came into the room. + +“I take it you’ve finished the work?” + +“The original and copy are beside the longhand manuscript on your desk,” +said Dorothy, toning down her efforts with the puff. “I’ve read it over +and I don’t think you’ll find any mistakes.” + +Mrs. Lawson ran her eyes over the typewritten sheets. “They are without +a fault,” she declared, placing them in a drawer. “If you take dictation +as accurately as you type, Janet, you’ll be the perfect secretary.” + +“Thank you,” said Dorothy demurely and slipped the compact into the +pocket of her frock. “It is very nice of you to say that.” + +“Then we’ll go in to luncheon, shall we? That is, if you’re ready?” + +Dorothy stood up. “Quite ready, Mrs. Lawson, and good and hungry, too.” + +“Splendid!” enthused her hostess, as they walked down the corridor +toward the entrance hall. “Doctor Winn declares this Connecticut Ridge +country is the most healthful section of the United States. And even if +some people have other ideas on the subject, I can testify that it is a +great appetite builder.” + +Dorothy smiled, but said nothing. She was wondering how healthful she +was going to find this particular spot in the Ridge country after what +she had to do tonight. + +“Doctor Winn always lunches in his study,” continued Mrs. Lawson. “That +is the room just beyond my office. My husband has been called to New +York on business. He won’t be back until after dinner tonight, so we +will be alone at luncheon.” + +For some reason of her own, Laura Lawson had become affability itself. +And for this Dorothy gave thanks. That she disliked this truly beautiful +creature was only natural. But it is much more pleasant to lunch with a +person who puts herself out to be charming and affable, no matter what +your private opinion of the other’s character may be. + +The dining room proved to be a low-ceiled apartment paneled in white +pine; heavy beams of the satin-finished wood overhead, and on the walls +several colorful landscapes in oils, evidently the works of artists who +knew and loved this Ridge country. A cheerful log fire burned brightly +on the open hearth beneath a high mantelpiece. Outside, the heavy snow +continued to drive past frosted window-panes, but within all was warmth +and coziness. + +Dorothy enjoyed the meal thoroughly. Like most girls, she revelled in +luxury when it came her way. Not only was her hostess an interesting and +entertaining conversationalist, the delicious food served by Tunbridge +and a second man in plum-colored knee breeches, added materially to her +pleasure. She was really sorry when the butler lighted his mistress’ +cigarette and Mrs. Lawson rose from the table. + +“I have no work for you this afternoon, Janet,” said the lady, as they +strolled into the spacious hall with its suits of polished armor and +trophies of war and the chase decorating the walls. “I have some work to +complete with Doctor Winn, so I won’t be free to entertain you. There +are periodicals and novels in the library. If it weren’t such a beastly +day, I would suggest a walk.” + +“Oh, I don’t mind a snowstorm!” Dorothy smiled at her. “I’d love to be +out in it for a while.” + +“But I’m afraid you might get lost. The blizzard is driving out of the +northeast—and that means something in this country. You’ll find it more +disagreeable than you think.” + +“I’m not afraid to walk in a blizzard,” Dorothy argued, “we used to do +it a lot at school—I love it.” + +“Oh, very well, then,” went on Mrs. Lawson. “I used to enjoy that sort +of thing myself. Somebody had better go with you, though. Let me see—” +She hesitated. “Oh, yes—Gretchen will be just the person. She’s a nice +little thing—a native of Ridgefield, you know. Gretchen can show you +round the place, and there’ll be no chance of your getting lost.” + +Dorothy was amused by this pretended concern for her safety. She knew +that Mrs. Lawson feared she might take it into her head to walk to the +railroad station and board the first train back to town. Gretchen as +guide and chaperone would be able to forestall anything like that. Mrs. +Lawson was not yet sure of the new secretary! + +Dorothy’s features betrayed no sign of her thoughts. “That will be ever +so much pleasanter than going alone,” she agreed. “Gretchen seems to be +a sweet girl. I saw her this morning when she brought my breakfast and +unpacked my clothes. I’m sorry, though, that you can’t come too.” +Deception, she found, was becoming a habit when treating with her +hostess. + +“Thank you, my dear—I’m sorry, too.” Mrs. Lawson went toward the +tasselled bell rope that hung beside the fireplace. “Run upstairs now +and get into warm things. I’ll ring for Gretchen and have her meet you +down here in quarter of an hour.” + +Fifteen minutes afterward, warmly dressed in whipcord jodhpurs, a heavy +sweater and knee-length leather coat of dark green, Dorothy came out of +her room onto the gallery, pulling a white wool skating cap well down +over her ears. With a white wool scarf twisted about her throat, the +long ends thrown back over her shoulders, she looked ready for any +winter sport as she ran lightly down the stairs, the rubber soles of her +high arctics making no sound on the broad oaken steps. + +Gretchen, well bundled up in sweater and heavy tweed skirt was waiting +for her. + +“You certainly do look like a picture on a Christmas magazine cover, +Miss Jordan,” the girl exclaimed, while they walked to the front door. +“I’m glad you’ve got warm gauntlets. It’s mighty cold out—you’ll need +them.” + +Dorothy laughed gaily and swung open the door. “Nothing could be more +becoming than your own costume, Gretchen. That light blue skating set is +just the color of your eyes.” + +“That,” chuckled Gretchen, “is the real reason I bought it.” + +They were outside now and standing under the wide porte-cochere of glass +and wrought iron. + +“It’s glorious out here, and not too cold, either.” Dorothy sniffed the +sharp air enthusiastically. “I hate staying indoors on a wild day like +this. Look at those big flakes spinning down and sideslipping into the +drifts. It makes one glad to be alive.” + +“You said it, Miss Jordan. I love it myself—though I never thought of +snowflakes being like airplanes before. Which way do you want to go?” + +“You’re the leader, Gretchen. Anywhere you say suits me.” + +“Then let’s tramp over to the pond, Miss Jordan. The ice ought to be +holding. We’ll stop at the garage and fetch a broom along. There’s too +much snow for skating, but we might make a slide.” + +“That will be fun,” agreed Dorothy, as they came down the steps and +swung along the white expanse of driveway. “I haven’t done anything like +that since I was a kid. How far’s the pond from here?” + +“About half a mile. Doctor Winn owns several hundred acres. It’s down +yonder in a hollow. This time of year when the trees are bare, you can +see it plainly from the house. Today there’s too much snow.” + +“There certainly is plenty of it!” Dorothy was ploughing through the +fluffy white mass nearly up to her knees. “A good eighteen inches must +have fallen already and it’s drifting fast. If it doesn’t stop by +tonight, Winncote will be snowed in for a while. What’s that building +over there, Gretchen—gray stone, isn’t it?” + +“That’s the laboratory, miss. It’s really a wing of the house. The +stables are just beyond, but this storm’s so thick, it blots them out. +Well, here we are at the garage. If you’ll wait a minute, I’ll step +inside and get a broom.” + +“Get two if you can,” suggested Dorothy. “Then we’ll both get some +exercise, and they’ll come in handy while we’re getting through the +drifts.” + +“I’ll do my best,” said Gretchen. She disappeared through a door in the +side of the building. + +Dorothy looked about her. Rolling clouds of windswept snowflakes made it +impossible to see objects more than a few yards away with any +distinctness. The dark shadow of low clouds painted the white of her +landscape a cold, dull gray. But she noticed, as she waited, that the +storm was driving in gusts, that occasionally there would be a short +lull when the sun, tinging the sky with rose and yellow, seemed fighting +to break its way through to this white-blanketed world. Then Gretchen, a +broom in each hand, joined her. + +“Whew! that place was stuffy,” she said, handing one of the brooms to +Dorothy, and starting ahead at right angles from the way they had come. +“Hanley made a fuss giving me two—he would! It’s a wonder the cars +don’t melt in there. He keeps the place like an oven. All the help from +the city is like that. They can’t seem to get warm enough, and the way +they hate fresh air is a caution! I roomed with Sadie, the other +chambermaid, when I first came, and you won’t believe it, but that girl +had nailed our window shut so it couldn’t be opened! I spoke to Mr. +Tunbridge next morning, and he gave me a room of my own. I always did +like Mr. Tunbridge. He’s a real gentleman, he is.” + +They forged ahead through the drifts to the crossfire of Gretchen’s +light chatter, and Dorothy was given a series of entertaining stories +concerning the habits of the Winncote servants and their life +below-stairs. It was rough going with the storm in their faces, and +Gretchen eventually ceased her gossiping from sheer lack of breath. The +ground began to slope gently downward, and finally they came to a belt +of trees in a hollow. Fifty yards farther on, a broad expanse of white +marked the extent of Winncote Pond beneath its thick, flat quilt of +snow. + +“Think the ice will hold?” Dorothy walked to the brink of the little +lake. “I’d hate to go in on a day like this.” + +“Oh, that’s all right. I was down here for an hour yesterday afternoon +with my skates before the snow began, and it was much warmer then. The +ice was wonderful—slick as glass and solid as a rock.” + +By dint of considerable exercise they cleared two narrow paths that ran +parallel across the ice. Then they commenced a series of sliding +contests, each girl on her own ice track. Starting at a line in the snow +a few yards above the low bank, they would race forward to the brink and +shoot out on the ice, vying with each other to see who could slide the +farthest. There were several tumbles at first, but the deep snow along +the sides of the tracks prevented bad bumps. Soon, however, they both +became adepts at the sport. Dorothy, aided by her extra weight, for she +was at least twenty pounds heavier than little Gretchen, invariably won. + +After a half an hour of this rather violent sport, they cleared the snow +from a fallen tree trunk and sat down for a rest. Here in the hollow, +surrounded by trees, the wind lost a great deal of its force. But the +snow continued to fall unabated, and their hot breath clouded like steam +in the cold air. Their cheeks were tingling crimson from the racing, and +both felt in high good spirits. + +“I can’t understand why so many rich people go south every winter,” +Gretchen said earnestly. “I wouldn’t miss out on this fun—the snow and +the skating, tobogganing—for anything in the world.” + +“People like that,” decreed Dorothy, “just don’t know how to live. You +can have lots of fun in summer, of course. I don’t know which I love the +best. But this sort of thing makes you feel just grand. It certainly put +the pep into—.” She stopped short and sprang to her feet. From +somewhere close by and seemingly below her, had come a low, moaning +sound. + +Gretchen jumped up. Her doll-like face with its round, blue eyes took on +a look of startled wonder. “What was that?” she cried. “It sounded as if +I—as if I was sitting on it!” + +Again came the low cry in a weird, minor key. + +“You were. It’s coming from the inside of this log. An animal of some +kind.” + +“Why, I guess you’re right. Whatever it is, the thing gave me the +heebie-jeebies for a minute.” + +The snow had drifted over the butt of the half-rotted tree. Dorothy took +her broom and swept it clear. + +“The log’s hollow!” she exclaimed and bent down. “Yes, there’s something +in there—I can see its eyes—come here, Gretchen! You can see for +yourself.” + +“Not me!” declared that young woman. “I don’t want to get bit—I mean, +bitten, miss.” + +“Oh, never mind the grammar.” Dorothy was almost standing on her head, +trying to get a better view. “But do cut out the polite trimmings when +we’re alone. You’re Gretchen and I’m Dorothy—savez?” + +“All right—Dorothy. But please be careful. That thing may jump out at +you.” + +“I wish it would. Then I’d know what it is. And whatever it is, the +animal in there can’t be much bigger than a rabbit. The hole isn’t wide +enough.” + +“Maybe it is a rabbit.” Gretchen came nearer. + +“Did you ever hear a rabbit make a noise like that?” Dorothy’s tone was +disdainful. + +“Then—maybe it’s a wildcat!” said Gretchen fearfully. + +“Well, if it is, it’s a small one. Here, puss—puss. The silly thing is +too far in to reach. She just blinks at me.” + +“Perhaps she’s hurt and crawled in there to die, Dorothy.” + +“Aren’t you cheerful! She probably crawled in there to get out of the +storm, and is half-frozen, poor thing.” + +“Well, I don’t know what we’re going to do about it,” sighed Gretchen, +still keeping her distance. + +Once more the low moan came from the log, but now that the end was free +from snow, the sound was much clearer. + +“That’s no wildcat, either!” Dorothy twisted her head, first to the +right, then to the left, in an attempt to get a better light on the +log’s occupant. “There’s too much of a whine in that cry. The thing’s +probably a young fox. How does one call a fox, Gretchen? I’m hanged if I +know.” + +“Nor me, neither, Dorothy. It’s the first time I’ve ever heard of +anybody wanting to call one.” + +They both laughed. “You don’t seem to know much about foxes,” teased +Dorothy. “Didn’t you ever see a fox?” + +“No. But my father says the way they steal eggs and suck them is a +caution.” + +“Well,” admitted Dorothy, “we can’t stand around here all day, trying to +get frozen foxes out of hollow logs. I’ll try whistling, and you can +make a noise like a sucked egg. If that doesn’t work, we’ll have to +leave him in his lair.” With a wink at the giggling Gretchen, she bent +down again and whistled shrilly. “Here, boy!” she called. “Come on out +to your mama!” + +There was a scrambling noise within the log, and Gretchen started for +the pond. + +“Oh, be careful, Dorothy! Do be careful!” she cried, as she saw her +friend gather a small creature into her arms. “What is it, anyway—is it +a fox?” + +“No, a first cousin.” Dorothy shook the ends of her wool scarf free from +snow and wrapped them around the small animal. + +“A first cousin?” Gretchen came nearer. “What in the world do you mean +by that?” + +“Come and take a look,” her friend invited. “He won’t bite you, will +you, boy?” + +Gretchen saw her pat a little black nose that poked its way out of the +scarf. A long pointed head, brindle and white, in which were set two +snapping black eyes, followed the nose. “Why, why, it’s a fox terrier—a +fox terrier puppy!” she gasped. “How do you suppose he ever came to +crawl into that log?” + +Dorothy patted the dog’s head. “Got lost in the storm, I guess. The poor +little chap can’t be over three months old. Does he belong up at the +house?” + +“No, he doesn’t. What’s more, none of the people who live around here +have a fox terrier pup that I know of.” + +Dorothy examined the pup’s front paws, but did so very gently. “This +little man has come a long way.” She covered him again. “The bottom of +his feet show it. They’re cut and badly swollen. And he’s half-frozen +and starved into the bargain, I’ll bet. Let’s go back to the house and +make him comfortable.” + +“I’ll carry the brooms,” said Gretchen. “You have an armful, with him. +By the way, you’re going to keep him, aren’t you?” + +“Surest thing you know! That is, unless someone comes to claim him.” + +They trudged off through the trees and up the hill, Gretchen shouldering +the brooms. + +“What are you going to call him?” she asked, after a while. + +“What do you think?” + +“Why, I don’t know. Wait a minute, though—there’s a girl who lives over +in Silvermine named Dorothea Gutmann. Daddy sometimes does work for her +father. Dorothea has a fox terrier pup and she calls him ‘Professor.’ Do +you know why?” + +“I give up,” said Dorothy, floundering through the snow beside her. “Why +does Dorothea Gutmann call her fox terrier pup Professor?” + +“Because,” smiled Gretchen in delight, “he just about ate up a +dictionary!” + +Dorothy laughed merrily, and hugged the warm little bundle in her arms. +“And when you’ve got outside a lot of words like that, even a pup would +know as much as the average professor, I s’pose.” + +“That’s the way Dorothea thought about it. I’ve been over to the +Gutmanns a couple of times with Daddy and her dog looks enough like +yours to be a twin!” + +“We run into doubles nowadays, every day!” Dorothy chuckled. “First it’s +Janet and me who can’t be told apart. Then it’s Dorothea’s dog and mine. +I know her, too, by the way. She’s in the New Canaan Junior High. But I +haven’t seen her puppy. Our names are almost alike, too, but not quite, +thank goodness. If any more of this double identity business comes +along, I’ll just have to give up. A girl’s got to have some sort of a +personality all her own, you know.” + +“I wouldn’t let that worry me,” said Gretchen. “There’s only one Dorothy +Dixon, after all.” + +“Thanks for those kind words, Gretchen. That’s really very sweet of you, +though. If the pup was a lady, I’d call him ‘Gretchen’. Since he isn’t, +‘Professor’ will do very nicely. We’ll try him on a dictionary when we +get home, that is, after he’s had some nice warm bread and milk, and a +good sleep.” + +“If,” smiled Gretchen, “what you said just now was meant for a +compliment—well, I’m glad Professor is not a lady. You’d better go on +to the house, while I drop these brooms in here at the garage. I’ll come +to your room just as soon as I can slip into my uniform, and I’ll bring +up the bread and milk.” + +“I always knew you were a dear,” said Dorothy, and she continued to push +her way on toward the house. + + + + + Chapter XV + + TEA AND ORDERS + + +After she had changed her clothes and fed the famished pup with a bowl +of warm milk and bread, Dorothy took him down to the library. Gretchen +brought a small open basket and a blanket and they made him a bed near +the open fire. Professor promptly went to sleep, and his mistress curled +up in a deep chair beside him, reading and dozing for the rest of the +afternoon. To amuse Gretchen, she had placed a dictionary near the +basket, to see if Professor would follow his double’s example and so +justify his name. When he awoke, however, about four o’clock, he merely +jumped out of his bed on to the book, and up to Dorothy’s lap, where he +went to sleep again. + +“Good ole pup!” Dorothy rubbed his smooth, warm head between his ears. +“You show your intelligence by using the dictionary as a stepping stone +to better things, don’t you, Prof!” + +She yawned, closed her book, and promptly went to sleep again herself. + +She awoke with a start, to find Mrs. Lawson smiling down at her. +Tunbridge was laying the tea-things on a table at the other side of the +fire. “Well, my dear,” the lady said, her eyes on the fox terrier, “I +see you’ve found a new friend.” + +“Oh, yes, isn’t he just too darling? I found him out in the blizzard, he +was half frozen and almost starved!” She went on to tell Mrs. Lawson +about it. + +“I’m afraid I’m not very fond of animals, Janet.” Dorothy noticed that +she did not attempt to touch the puppy. “I don’t dislike them, you +understand, but somehow they never seem to like me.” + +“That’s too bad,” said Dorothy. “I do hope you won’t mind my keeping +him—at least until we learn who his owner is?” + +Laura Lawson looked doubtful. “Well, I don’t mind. But—this is Doctor +Winn’s house, you know, and his decision, after all, is the one that +counts. You will have to ask him about keeping the dog, Janet.” + +“Is Doctor Winn going to have tea with us, Mrs. Lawson?” + +“He most certainly is, my dear. That is, if you ladies will pour him a +cup.” + +Dorothy glanced up, and beside her stood an old gentleman, very tall and +spare, but bowed with the weight of his years. She knew that the +scientist was well over eighty. Catching up the fox terrier, she rose to +her feet. + +“How do you do, Doctor Winn?” She smiled and offered him her hand. + +The old gentleman bent over it with courtly grace. “Good afternoon, Miss +Janet Jordan. Welcome to Winncote.” Merry gray eyes twinkled at her from +behind pince-nez attached to a broad black ribbon. An aristocrat of the +old school, Dorothy thought, as she studied his handsome, clean shaven +face crisscrossed with the tiny wrinkles of advanced age. She had +imagined him to be quite a different sort of person. His next words +proved that he read her thoughts. + +“You expected to see a musty old fellow, with a long white beard, +wearing a smock stained by chemicals, eh?” He chuckled softly. “Now, +tell me, young lady, isn’t that so? Though I admit these flannel slacks +and old Norfolk jacket are hardly fashionable habiliments when one is +taking tea with ladies!” + +He released her hand and smiled a greeting to Mrs. Lawson. The second +footman, he of the plum-colored knee-breeches, set the tea table before +that young matron, under the supervision of the stately Tunbridge. + +Dorothy liked this gallant old scientist and his courtly ways. Her own +eyes sparkled gaily back at him. “Yes, you did surprise me, Doctor +Winn,” she confessed. “Please don’t think I’m being forward, but—but +you seem much more like the English fox-hunting squires I’ve read about, +than the world-renowned chemist you really are, with stacks of letters +after your name. But ever so much nicer, and jollier, you know!” + +Doctor Winn beamed. “Now that, my dear, is a most charming compliment. +Old fellows like me aren’t used to compliments from young ladies, +either. Do sit down again, please, and tell me how you like Winncote and +our New England snowstorms. We old people need young folks around. I can +see that we are going to be good friends.” + +He sat down in a chair the butler drew up for him. + +“Mrs. Lawson will tell you,” replied Dorothy, “that I love it out here +in the country.” She accepted a cup of tea from Tunbridge and added +sugar and a slice of lemon. The butler was followed by his liveried +assistant, bearing silver platters of hot, buttered scones and tiny iced +cakes. Professor immediately began to show interest in the proceedings. +Dorothy held him firmly out of harm’s way, and placed her tea and +eatables on the broad arm of her chair. + +Mrs. Lawson looked up from her place behind the shining silver and old +china of the tea table. She smiled graciously. “Oh, yes, Janet loves +blizzards, too, Doctor Winn. She went out for a walk this afternoon and +acquired a fox terrier puppy, as you see.” + +“And naturally, she wants to keep him.” The old gentleman leaned forward +in his chair, the better to look at Professor. “You certainly may, +Janet. And by the way, I hope you’ll agree that it’s an old man’s +privilege to call you by your first name?” + +“Oh, that is sweet of you!” Dorothy cried delightedly, and the Doctor’s +chuckle echoed her pleasure. + +“The dog’s got a fine head—a very fine head, indeed. If anybody +advertises for him, or comes to claim him, I’ll take pleasure in buying +the puppy for you.” + +“Why, you’re nicer every minute,” declared Dorothy. “Isn’t he, +Professor?” + +The pup yawned with great indifference, which set all three of them +laughing. His mistress put him in his blanket where he promptly curled +up and fell into slumber once more. + +“I sadly fear,” said Doctor Winn, as he polished his pince-nez with a +white silk handkerchief, “that you are a good deal of a flirt Janet. But +inasmuch as I am old enough to be your grandfather, or +great-grandfather, for that matter, you are pardoned with a reprimand.” +He chuckled deep in his throat, a habit he had when pleased. “Now tell +me, how you happened to find him out in the snow.” + +Dorothy recounted the story in detail. When she came to the part about +Gretchen’s fear of the wildcat and the fox, even Mrs. Lawson, who was +none too sure she liked the turn things were taking, broke into a merry +peal of laughter. + +“Capital, capital!” Doctor Winn beamed. “I only wish I’d been there to +see it. But why, may I ask, do you call him Professor?” + +Dorothy explained about the dictionary and Gretchen’s idea of the pup’s +resemblance to Dorothea Gutmann’s fox terrier. + +“Better and better,” exclaimed the Doctor. “This is the jolliest tea +we’ve had in this house for ages. We need young people around us to be +really happy. You and I and Martin, Laura, have been working too hard of +late. ‘All work and no play’—We’ve been bothering too much about things +scientific, and neglecting things personal. Well now, we can rest a +while, and become human beings again.” + +Mrs. Lawson leaned forward eagerly. “Then, the formula is complete?” she +asked in a low voice, in which Dorothy detected the barely controlled +tremor of excitement. + +“Yes, indeed. Finished and locked in my safe. I added the final figures +and quantities three-quarters of an hour ago. Tomorrow, or if the +weather doesn’t clear by then, the next day at latest, I shall take it +on to Washington.” + +“I congratulate you, Doctor. And I know that once it is in the hands of +the government, a great load will be taken off your mind.” + +“You’re right, my dear, you are right. I’ve been jumpy as a cat with +eight of its lives gone for the past year.” He turned to Dorothy. “Thank +goodness, you’re young and without responsibilities, Janet. There are so +many unscrupulous people about nowadays. If those papers were lost or +stolen, there is no telling what would happen. I dare not think of it. +The whole world might suffer if that formula got into the wrong hands!” + +Dorothy could not help thinking that the world at large would be much +better off if the formula were destroyed. She, therefore, merely nodded +and looked impressed. How this gentle, kindly old man could have brought +himself to invent such a ghastly menace to life, she found it difficult +to understand. + +Laura Lawson stood up. “Doctor Winn likes to dine early, Janet, so if we +are to be dressed by six-thirty, we had better start upstairs.” + +“My word, yes!” The old gentleman snapped open the hunting case of his +repeater and got stiffly to his feet. “Time flies when one is enjoying +oneself. It’s nearly six o’clock. This has been very pleasant indeed, +the first of many afternoons, I hope.” He snapped the watch shut and +returned it to his pocket. “You ladies will excuse me, I’m sure.” He +bowed to them both, and holding himself much more erect than he had +formerly, walked stiffly from the room. + +“He’s simply darling,” exclaimed Dorothy in a hushed voice. + +“Yes, he’s a very simple and a very fine old gentleman,” said Laura +Lawson. She seemed lost in her thoughts and evidently unaware that she +uttered them aloud. “Sometimes—I hate to hurt him so.” + +“Why—why, what do you mean?” Dorothy could have bitten her own tongue +out for speaking that sentence. + +“Mean—? Oh, nothing, child. Run along now, and change. But take your +dog with you. I’ll see that one of the men gives him a run in the +stables while we’re at dinner.” + +“Thank you very much,” said Dorothy. She turned the sleeping pup out of +his bed, caught up the basket, and with Professor at her heels, ran +lightly from the room. + +Just outside the door she collided with Tunbridge, and Professor’s +basket was jerked from her grasp. + +“Oh, I’m so very sorry, Miss Jordan!” His acting was perfect. Dorothy +knew that Mrs. Lawson was close behind them. Then as they both stooped +to retrieve the basket their heads came close together. “Under your +pillow!” It was hardly more than the breath of a whisper, but Dorothy +caught the words, nodded her understanding, and stood up. + +“I’m afraid I’m to blame, Tunbridge. I didn’t see you coming.” + +“Not at all, Miss. It was my fault, entirely. Very clumsy of me I’m +sure!” + +From the corner of her eye Dorothy caught a glimpse of Laura Lawson +watching them from the doorway. + +“Don’t let it worry you, Tunbridge. I’m not hurt, neither is the basket. +Professor will probably park himself on my _pillow_ tonight, anyway. +Puppies have a way of doing such things, you know. So it really wouldn’t +matter much if you had smashed it.” + +She gave him a nod, and picking up the dog made for the staircase. + +“So instructions are waiting under my pillow,” she mused, as she slowly +mounted the broad stair. The afternoon had been a pleasant one, but the +evening, with those instructions ahead of her, portended to be something +quite different. It had been so nice and cheerful, chatting round the +tea table; so cozy sitting before the glowing logs, just talking of +jolly things and forgetting all worry and responsibility. Of course, +beyond the curtained windows, the blizzard howled. And it whipped the +swirling snowflakes into disordered clouds with its arctic lash before +it let them seek the shelter of their fellows in the drifts. She felt +very much as though she too were a snowflake, tossed hither and thither +on the storm of circumstance, to be whipped forward by the secret lash +of underlying crime. + +If she could only drop down on to her bed and sleep—and awake to find +it all a bad dream! She sighed and went toward her door on the gallery. +Her pillow held no peace for her tonight—nothing more nor less than +detailed instructions as to how Tunbridge wished her to rob a safe. Why +didn’t the man do his own stealing? Her part was to take Janet’s place +out here, and kill suspicion in Laura Lawson. Well, she’d done that, +hadn’t she? And now they loaded this other job on to her. It wasn’t +fair. She had done enough—she’d— + +“Oh, shucks!” She pulled herself up mentally as her hand fell on the +doorknob. “I’ll be losing my nerve altogether, if I let my thoughts run +on this way. D. Dixon, you just _must not_ funk it!” + +She turned the knob and entered her room. + + + + + Chapter XVI + + CAUGHT IN THE ACT + + +When Dorothy went down to dinner that evening, she knew exactly what she +had to do. After reading Tunbridge’s note which she found had been +slipped between the pillow case and the pillow itself, she had memorized +the combination to Doctor Winn’s safe, and destroyed the missive as she +had his warning of the night before. After a bath and a complete change +of clothing, she felt refreshed and in a much better frame of mind. She +had selected one of the prettiest gowns in Janet’s wardrobe, a turquoise +blue crepe, with a cluster of silver roses fastened in the twisted +velvet girdle, put on slippers to match, and surveyed the result in the +mirror. + +“Decidedly becoming, my girl,” she smiled at her reflection, and gave a +last pat to her shining bob that she had brushed until it lay like a +bronze cap close about her shapely head. “Might as well look my best at +my criminal debut!” She made a face at herself, turned and kissed the +sleeping puppy in his basket, and went downstairs. + +Doctor Winn and Mrs. Lawson were standing talking in the entrance hall, +near the fireplace. The old gentleman, dressed in immaculate dinner +clothes, looked more than ever like the English squire in his ancestral +hall. He came forward to meet her, both hands outstretched. + +“As charming as an English primrose and twice as beautiful!” he greeted +gaily. + +“Thank you kindly, sir.” She dropped him a little curtsey and let him +lead her to Mrs. Lawson. + +“Our little secretary has blossomed into a very lovely debutante,” he +beamed. + +Dorothy bit her lip, remembering her own phrase of a few moments before, +then smiled at her employer. Mrs. Lawson was regal in black velvet, +trimmed in narrow bands of ermine. She returned Dorothy’s smile, and +lifted her finely pencilled brows at the Doctor. “Oh, you men. You are +all alike. A pretty gown, a pretty face intrigues you, young or old. Pay +no attention to his flattery, Janet. I can hardly blame him, though. You +look lovely tonight. That is an exquisite frock. Did you buy it abroad?” + +“Oh, no, at a little place on fifty-seventh street.” Of course Dorothy +had no idea where Janet had bought the dress. “It is a Paris model, +though, Mrs. Lawson.” + +“I thought as much. Ah, here comes Tunbridge with the cocktails. I +wonder which side of the fence you are on?” + +“I’m—I’m afraid I don’t know quite what you mean, Mrs. Lawson.” + +“I’ll explain,” broke in the old gentleman. “I’m the prohibitionist in +this house, Janet. Mrs. Lawson is one of the antis. She likes a real +cocktail before dinner. I prefer one made of tomato juice.” + +Mrs. Lawson had already helped herself to a brimming glass and a small +canapé of caviar from the silver tray Tunbridge was holding. + +“Oh, I love tomato cocktails,” smiled Dorothy. She took one from the man +and helped herself to the caviar. “Daddy asked me not to drink until I +was twenty-one—and I’m not so keen on the idea, anyway.” + +“I try to keep an open mind about such things,” the Doctor said +seriously, “but I’ve never found that the use of alcohol did anyone any +good. Well, here’s your very good health, ladies!” He raised his glass +of tomato juice and drank. + +Dinner was announced a few minutes later. Doctor Winn offered his right +arm to Mrs. Lawson and his left to Dorothy and they walked into the +dining room. Dorothy did not enjoy that meal as much as she had her +luncheon. True, the food was delicious and the panelled room with its +cheerful fire on the hearth and the soft glow of candle light was +delightfully homey, while Doctor Winn’s easy chatter and fund of +interesting reminiscence helped to break the tedium of the courses. But +Dorothy found it difficult to play up to his amusing sallies. The old +gentleman appeared to be in very good spirits indeed. Laura Lawson, on +the other hand, was unusually quiet. At times she seemed distrait and +merely smiled absently when spoken to. She drank several glasses of +claret, but hardly touched her food. Dorothy felt surer than ever that +the Lawsons had planned their coup for tonight. She shrewdly surmised +that this cold-blooded adventuress had become fond of the genial, +fatherly old man, and realized that at his age the blow she contemplated +might very well prove a fatal one. + +As the dinner wore on, Dorothy felt more and more ill at ease. The sight +of Tunbridge, soft-footed and efficient, waiting on table or +superintending his satellite of the plum-colored kneebreeches, sent her +thoughts to the night’s work ahead every time the detective-butler came +into the room. She was glad when at last the meal was over and they +repaired to the library where after-dinner coffee was served. Dorothy +rarely drank coffee in the evening, but tonight she allowed Tunbridge to +fill her cup a second time. There must be no sleep for her until the wee +hours of the morning, and she knew from former experience that the black +coffee would keep her awake. + +Mrs. Lawson, after wandering aimlessly about the room, finally picked up +a technical magazine and commenced to read. Doctor Winn suggested a game +of chess to Dorothy. She was fond of the ancient game and told him so. +Many a tournament she and her father had played with their red and white +ivory chessmen. Dr. Winn was a brilliant player, of long experience. +Soon he began to compliment Dorothy upon a number of strategic moves. +But although several times she managed to place his king in check, it +was invariably her own royal chessman who was checkmated in the end. As +the evening wore on, the beatings became more frequent, for Dorothy +simply could not keep her mind on the game. + +For a while she sat watching the log fire and talking to the Doctor in a +desultory way while Mrs. Lawson continued to read. Then as the +grandfather clock chimed ten, Laura Lawson laid down her magazine and +stood up. + +“I think I’ll go to bed now, if you don’t mind.” The half stifled yawn, +sheer camouflage thought Dorothy, was nevertheless a masterpiece of +deception. “I’ve a bit of a headache, so I’ll say good night.” + +Doctor Winn and Dorothy got to their feet. “I’m for bed myself,” +announced the old gentleman, “and in spite of the coffee you drank after +dinner, I know you’re sleepy, Janet. Your chess playing toward the end +proved it.” His eyes twinkled at her. “But in storm or clear weather, +there’s nothing like the air of this Connecticut Ridge Country to make +one eat and sleep. By the way, Laura, when do you expect Martin?” + +“Oh, I forgot to tell you, Doctor—he won’t be back tonight. He phoned +me from town just before dinner, that on account of the blizzard, he had +decided to stay in until tomorrow. If you need him sooner, he said to +call up the Roosevelt. He always stops there, you know.” + +“Yes, yes, but I shan’t need him, thank you.” He turned to Dorothy. “The +railroad has taken upon itself to discontinue all service to +Ridgefield,” he explained. “Branchville is our nearest station, and +driving will be difficult tonight. There must be very deep drifts by +this time.” + +“I should think it would be mighty unpleasant to get stuck out in a +blizzard like this. I’m glad I don’t have to go out into it. But in a +way I’m thankful for the snow, because we ought to have a white +Christmas, and it’s ever so much more fun.” + +“Bless my soul! I’d entirely forgotten that Christmas comes next week. +Well, this year we must celebrate the Yuletide in the good old fashioned +way. Thank you, Janet, for reminding me.” + +Good nights were said, and a few minutes later Dorothy was again alone +in the Pink Bedroom. Or so she thought, as she entered. But at once she +noticed that a single shaded wall-light sent a pleasant glow from the +bay window, and curled up in the cushioned recess, Gretchen was reading. + +Dorothy stopped short in surprise and the girl sprang to her feet. “Oh, +Miss—Miss Jordan, Mr. Tunbridge told me to come and help you undress +and get ready for the night. Of course I didn’t know if you would want +me—” then she added in a whisper, “but he thought you might be sort of +blue and I could cheer you up, I guess.” + +Dorothy smiled at Gretchen’s pretty, earnest face. “Why, of course I +want you, Gretchen. Tunbridge is very thoughtful. I’ve never had the +luxury of a personal maid and I don’t know that I’ll ever feel helpless +enough to need one! But if you want to stay and talk, I’d love it.” + +“But I can help you, too,” Gretchen insisted. “I’m not really a trained +maid, you know, but Nanette—that’s Mrs. Lawson’s French maid—has been +teaching me. Gee, I’d certainly love to be _your_ personal maid, Miss +Jordan.” + +“Well, you may be, some day, who knows?” she laughed. “But you can help +me tonight, though there’ll be no bed for me until much later.” + +Gretchen, who was arranging the pillows and smoothing the covers on the +bed, turned her head sharply. “Secret Service Work?” she queried in an +excited whisper. + +Dorothy nodded and tossed her dress on to a chair. She continued +speaking in a tone just above a whisper. “At twelve o’clock tonight I’ve +got to go downstairs and commit justifiable burglary in Doctor Winn’s +office. The real thief will be along later—at least, I hope so, for +everybody’s sake. In the meantime I want you to do something for +me—will you?” + +“I sure will, miss—gee, this is exciting!” + +“Don’t let it cramp your style.” Dorothy laughed, and pulling off her +stocking, she handed Gretchen the packet of thin paper, the manuscript +on “Winnite” that she had typed that morning. “When you finish up in +here, I want you to find Mr. Tunbridge and give him these papers. You’d +better pin it inside your uniform now, and be very careful that nobody +sees you giving it to him.” + +“You can trust me,” declared Gretchen, and she put the papers safely +within her dress. “Is Mr. Tunbridge really a detective?” + +“He certainly is, Gretchen.” + +“I’d never have guessed it if you hadn’t told me. But then, I suppose +not looking like one makes him all the better?” + +“That’s the idea.” Dorothy put Janet’s quilted satin dressing gown on +over her pajamas. “Now that I’m ready for bed, and you’ve put all my +clothes away so nicely, I think you’d better run along, Gretchen. Not,” +she amended, “that I wouldn’t love to talk to you while I’m waiting for +twelve o’clock, but we must not let certain people in this house get +wise to our friendship.” + +“And Mrs. Lawson is one awful snoopy lady,” Gretchen observed candidly. +“Well, good night, Miss Jordan. Thank you a lot for letting me in on +this. I’ll see that Mr. Tunbridge gets your papers all right. Good +night—and take care of yourself.” She stood before Dorothy with an +anxious frown on her honest brow. “I sure do wish you the very best +luck!” + +Dorothy grinned. “Thank you. I certainly need it. Good night.” + +The door closed upon the little maid and Dorothy looked at her wrist +watch. It was ten minutes to eleven. For a time she sat on the edge of +her bed and stared unseeingly at the rug under her feet. Presently she +got up, locked her door, turned off her lights and went over to the +window. She drew aside the curtains and was surprised to see that it had +stopped snowing. There was no moon, but what sky she could see was +fairly a-crackle with stars. The heavy blanket of snow looked silver in +the starlight. A remote world and cold. Dorothy allowed the curtains to +drop back into place, and sat down on the window seat. Lost in thoughts +pleasant and unpleasant, she sat there for the next hour, while the +faint noises of the big house gradually subsided into stillness. + +At exactly five minutes to twelve, Dorothy raised the window, letting in +the cold night air. Then she turned off the heat and got into bed. After +lying there for possibly a minute, she threw back the covers, thrust her +feet into the fur-lined slippers she had left at the bedside and moved +like a dim shadow to the closet. + +It was crowded with Janet’s suits, coats and frocks, and she was careful +not to disturb them on their hangers, as she pushed between them in the +darkness to the rear wall and pressed her foot on the board in the +corner. The panel slid upward with a noiselessness that spoke for +well-oiled machinery somewhere in the walls. Dorothy stepped cautiously +through the opening. Her fingers sought the handle to this sliding door, +found it, and she pulled the panel down again. + +Then for the first time she made use of the small flashlight which she +carried in the pocket of her gown. She saw that she was standing on the +top step of a narrow circular stair that wound downward. Off went her +light again—she was taking no unnecessary chances tonight—and with her +hand on the metal handrail, she felt her way slowly down the stair, +holding her free hand well in advance of her body. + +When her extended fingers touched a wall that blocked further progress, +she felt with a slippered foot out to the right. The board gave +slightly, the wall panel moved upward and she stepped forth to find +herself in the great fireplace of the entrance hall, just beyond the +embers of the dying logs. The hall was illuminated in the dim glow of a +night light in the ceiling. As she turned to pull down the sliding +shutter, there came a streak of white from the dark passage and +Professor bounded into the hall. + +Dorothy was completely startled, and just as exasperated as she could +be. She could not call him, for the slightest sound might bring the +wakeful enemy to the spot. The pup, after his long sleep, was playful, +and scampered about madly, his bright eyes watching her every move. She +attempted to catch him, but he eluded her with an agility that made her +still more angry. He seemed to think that this was a splendid game, +raced across the floor in high glee, but ever watchful to keep beyond +her reach. + +Dorothy gave it up as a bad job. She dared not pursue him too +determinedly, for fear he would bark. She pulled down the sliding +shutter in the fireplace, and leaving Professor to his frolic, hurried +on to the door of Doctor Winn’s office. + +Inside the room with the door shut, her flashlight came into play for +the second time. It took her but a moment with the memorized combination +at her fingertips to open the safe. The door was surprisingly heavy, but +at last the interior of the small vault came within her line of vision. +From a drawer she took a folded sheet of white paper. Out of her pocket +came a pencil and another sheet of paper. In an amazingly short time she +copied the formula and replaced the original in the safe drawer. She +tucked the copy into the fur lining of her slipper under her bare foot. +Then suddenly she sprang up. + +Her heart leaped into her throat. In the corridor just outside there +came the sound of a footstep. There was no time to do more than shut off +her torch and drop it, together with her pencil, into the waste paper +basket. The door opened, lights flashed on, and Martin Lawson walked +into the room. + + + + + Chapter XVII + + PROFESSOR MAKES GOOD + + +In that moment, Dorothy knew what she must do. A shiver ran over her +slender frame and she blinked as though partly awakened by the flash of +lights. Then, with eyes wide open and staring straight ahead, she slowly +walked toward Martin Lawson and the open doorway. + +“_Stop!_” + +The command, though low, was uttered in a tone of deadly menace, and +Dorothy saw the blue-black muzzle of an automatic revolver pointed at +her heart. She stopped on the instant, but continued to stare straight +ahead without change of expression. She noted that he wore a soft felt +hat pulled over his eyes and a heavy ulster with its broad collar turned +up half hiding the lower part of his face. His high arctics bore traces +of melting snow. + +“Sleepwalking, eh! Well, I don’t believe it.” His sharp eyes took in the +open door of the safe. “Snap out of that playacting and tell me what you +are doing here!” + +Dorothy did not move a muscle. + +Without warning, he grasped her wrist and jerked her savagely toward +him. She screamed and went limp in his arms. Lawson clapped a hand over +her mouth. + +“So you’re up to your old tricks again, Martin!” + +Mrs. Lawson, fully dressed, and wearing a three-quarters mink coat and +brown felt cloche, appeared in the open doorway. “So our little +sleepwalker interrupted a very pretty piece of double-crossing!” She +pointed toward the safe. + +Lawson flung the weeping girl into an arm chair where she lay apparently +half stunned and shaking in every limb. + +“Double-cross, nothing!” he snapped at his wife. “How do you get that +way, Laura? I came in here just now and found Janet in the room.” + +“Was she at the safe?” + +“No, she wasn’t. She was standing in the middle of the floor. Making her +getaway without a doubt when I turned on the lights.” + +“Why do you pretend Janet opened the safe? The Doctor, you and I are the +only ones who know the combination. Laugh that off if you can, my dear!” + +They were both fast losing their tempers. + +“Combination or no combination, the safe was open when I got here,” he +snarled. “She was after the formula, of course. That father of hers is +in back of it. That Irishman is the double-crosser—and how! Figured on +working Winnite into his racket without coughing up a cent for it, +either. Call me a sucker if you like, Laura. I qualify, and so do you, +for that matter. The other stuff’s the bunk.” + +Dorothy stopped her pretended crying and lay back as though utterly +exhausted. She knew Tunbridge must be up and about. What in the world +could the man be doing? + +Mrs. Lawson who seemed to be weighing matters, slowly unbuttoned her +coat. “If you are so blameless,” she said coldly to her husband, “How do +you happen to be here at all? Your part of the job was to bring up the +car—or the plane, if it had stopped snowing.” + +“Well, it’s no longer snowing, my dear, and the plane is just where it +should be. I got tired of waiting, that’s why. Thought there must be a +slip-up. You were due out there half an hour ago.” + +“And I would have been,” said Laura Lawson evenly, “if that secret +service fool hadn’t been snooping outside my door.” + +“Tunbridge?” + +“Who else!” + +“What did you do—croak him?” + +“No, I didn’t. He’s not worth burning for.” + +As they talked, the two dropped their artificial cloaks of refinement as +if they had never been. + +“It’s hanging in this state,” sneered Martin. + +“What’s the difference! I rang for him, instead. When he knocked on the +door, I opened up and beaned him with the poker. He’ll wake up tomorrow +with a headache, but I dragged him into my room and tied him up, just to +make sure.” + +Dorothy’s heart sank to the very soles of her bare feet. + +“Atta girl!” cheered Lawson. “That’s the way! And look here, Laura. Just +to prove I’m on the straight with you—go over and frisk that kid +yourself. She’s got the paper.” + +“Thanks—I intended to.” Mrs. Lawson threw a grim smile at her husband +and turned to Dorothy. “Pass it over, Janet.” + +“But, really, Mrs. Lawson! I don’t know what you’re talking about—” + +The woman cut her short. “Stand up and come here!” + +Dorothy reluctantly obeyed. “I haven’t any paper,” she protested. “All I +know is that I woke up just now and found Mr. Lawson—” + +“Hold your tongue!” snapped Mrs. Lawson, and after exploring Dorothy’s +empty pockets, ran her fingers over the quilted gown and the girl’s +pajamas. In the midst of her search, Professor, still playful, bounded +into the room and stood watching them expectantly. + +Mrs. Lawson stepped back. “She hasn’t got it, Martin.” Her tone was +acid. “What a hard-boiled liar you are, anyway!” + +“Hard-boiled, if you like—but no liar.” He strode to the safe and +thrust his hand inside. “Here it is,” he called, and held up the paper. +“I must have got here before she could nab it.” + +Laura Lawson eyed him appraisingly. “Didn’t you say Janet was in the +middle of the room when you switched on the light?” + +“Sure—she heard me coming, of course.” + +“If Janet heard you coming, why didn’t she swing the door shut? Don’t +try to pull that stuff on me, Martin. Even if the girl knows the +combination she couldn’t open that safe in the dark. Why lie about the +business? I know you opened it yourself—and what’s more, while I’ve +been wasting time arguing with you and searching Janet, the formula was +in your pocket the whole time—that is, until you pretended to take it +out of the safe, just now!” + +Martin Lawson’s hard and cruel mouth twisted into a crooked smile. “The +world is full of liars,” he said equably, “but your husband doesn’t play +that kind of a racket, Laura—anyway, not to you.” + +“Then prove it by giving me that paper!” his wife held out her hand. + +“Nothing doing, Sweetheart. The formula will be perfectly safe with me.” + +He started to put it in an inside pocket, when Laura Lawson sprang for +the paper. She grasped his wrist. There was a tussle and the folded +sheet fell to the floor. Professor, seated on his haunches and very +interested in these exciting proceedings, dove forward and snapped it +up. For half a moment he shook the paper as though he took it for a new +species of rat. Then as they went for him, he darted between Martin’s +legs and scampered out of the room. + +“You big goop!” flared his wife. “Why didn’t you pot the cur!” + +She rushed out of the room after Professor while Martin stared rather +stupidly at the gun in his hand. Suddenly his eyes took on a +particularly hard glint and he swung round on Dorothy. + +“This,” he rasped, “is the second time you’ve got me in wrong with my +wife, Miss Janet Jordan. And there just ain’t going to be no third time, +kid!” + +“Wha—what are you going to do, Mr. Lawson?” She was still playing the +terrified, innocent Janet, but she no longer feared the man. During the +Lawsons’ struggle, she had prepared herself for something like this. She +had also shifted her position and was standing near the open door, now +several yards away. + +“You’re going to answer my questions, Janet—and answer them truthfully, +or you’ll do your sleepwalking in another world after this.” He menaced +her with the automatic, “It’s the bunk, isn’t it? The sleepwalking, I +mean.” + +“It sure is, Mr. du Val!” drawled Dorothy with a sweet smile. + +Lawson was thoroughly surprised and looked it. “Yes—it naturally would +be, seeing you know who I really am.” + +“And all about you.” + +“Oh, you do, eh? You were awake, of course, at the meeting?” + +“Not me—Janet Jordan.” + +“What do you mean—not you—Janet Jordan?” + +“I mean that certain people have been making fools of you and your wife, +Mr. du Val.” + +“Is that so! In what way, may I ask?” + +“Why, you see, I’m not Janet Jordan.” + +“Not Janet Jordan!” + +“I wish,” said Dorothy, “you wouldn’t echo my words. No, I am not—most +decidedly, not Janet Jordan, although even you have guessed by this time +that I look like her. We changed places on you, big boy! Night before +last, just before you came into Janet’s room with her father, Janet was +climbing out the window when you knocked the first time. It was rather +embarrassing.” + +“It’s going to be even more embarrassing for you in a moment or two, +Miss Not Janet Jordan! You know too much to live. Who in thunderation +are you—a government dick?” + +“That’s right, big boy. I also happen to be Janet’s double cousin.” + +“You’re her double, I’ll voucher that,” agreed du Val alias Lawson. “And +all this high-hat cockiness ain’t going to do you one little bit of +good. What’s the moniker, kid? Make it snappy, I’m pressed for time.” + +“Dorothy Dixon’s my name. And—meet Flash!” Her right hand gave a quick +twist and Martin Lawson dropped the exploding automatic with a scream of +mingled rage and pain. She sprang for the revolver, covered the man and +retrieved the knife from the floor just behind him. “Sit down over +there!” She pointed to a chair. “You’re not really hurt, you know. Flash +only skinned your knuckles. Better tie them up in your handkerchief +though. You’re ruining the rug.” + +Gretchen’s blond head peered round the door frame. “Oh, Dorothy!” she +shrilled, and rushed into the room. “Are you hurt? Did he wound you?” +She flung herself on her friend in a frenzy of fright and hysterics. + +From the hall came Laura Lawson’s voice. “Martin!” she called. “They’re +out in front of the house. They’ve got the car! Hurry!” + +Lawson wasted no time. While Dorothy struggled with the excited +Gretchen, he nipped out of the room and was gone. + +“That tears it!” cried Miss Dixon, freeing herself from the little +maid’s embrace, and she dove into the passage. + +Under the gallery she stopped short. There was nobody in sight, but from +the staircase came two sharp detonations of a revolver which were +answered by two more from the dining room. Then as she moved warily +forward, Bill Bolton ran into the hall with Ashton Sanborn close at his +heels. Dorothy saw them disappear up the stairs and ran after them. + +At the top of the stairs she spied them standing outside a bedroom door. +She hurried to join them. “Hello! Gone to cover?” + +“You’re a great guesser, kid.” Bill grinned and nodded. + +“Where’s Tunbridge?” asked Mr. Sanborn. + +Dorothy motioned toward the door. “In there. He’s got a broken head and +he’s tied up into the bargain. Laura Lawson did it. That’s her room.” + +“We’ve got to get the door down,” said Bill, and he stepped back for a +rush. + +“Just a sec, Bill!” Dorothy fired three shots from Lawson’s automatic +into the lock. + +“Smart girl!” Ashton Sanborn opened the door to disclose the +detective-butler bound and unconscious, lying on the floor. Otherwise +the room was empty of occupants. “I thought as much,” muttered the +secret service man, while Dorothy ran to Tunbridge and began to cut his +bonds. “They have beat it, all right!” + +“Secret passage?” This from Bill. + +“Yes, the walls are honeycombed with them. But Tunbridge never learned +the secret of this room, poor fellow.” + +“Doctor Winn would know,” said Dorothy. “His suite is right at the end +of this corridor. He must surely be awake with all this racket going +on.” + +“I’ll get him.” Mr. Sanborn was half way to the door. “Look after +Tunbridge, you two. Better phone for a doctor.” He was gone. + +Dorothy and Bill lifted the unconscious man on to Mrs. Lawson’s bed. +Then while young Bolton undressed him, Dorothy telephoned. She then gave +Bill a hasty account of the night’s happenings. + +“If Gretchen had only stayed put in her room, I’d have caught Martin +Lawson, anyway,” she lamented. + +“Mr. Jordan and the bunch outside will take care of that pair,” promised +Bill. “Fetch a wet towel from the bathroom. This bird is breathing +pretty hard.” + +Dorothy sped to obey, talking the while. “Not Uncle Michael!” she called +back in astonishment. + +“Yep. Uncle Michael showed up in Sanborn’s New York office this morning, +all on his own.” + +“What was he doing—wanting to turn state’s evidence and peach on his +pals?” She brought in the wet towel and laid it on Tunbridge’s hot +forehead. + +“Nothing like that, kid.” Bill was grinning. “Give another guess.” + +“Then he wasn’t really a member of that gang with the numbers?” + +“Sure he was—in good standing, too.” + +“Oh, spill it, Bill! What do you think I’m made of, anyway?” + +“Snips and snails and puppy dog’s tails,” said Bill promptly. + +“Huh! The story book says ‘little boys’ belong in that category. Come, +Bill, out with it!” + +“Well, then, cutie pie,—Uncle Michael is a secret service man.” + +“And Ashton Sanborn didn’t know it! Don’t talk rot, Bill!” + +“I’m not talking rot, Dorothy. Uncle Michael happens to be in the +British Secret Service, that’s why!” + +“Ain’t that the nerts!” exploded Miss Dixon. + +“You said it, kid! He got on to The Nameless Ones—that’s what they call +themselves—over on the other side, in Europe, you know—worked his way +into their confidence and joined up. Of course, with his government’s +sanction.” + +“And what were they up to?” + +“Out to blow up the world with Winnite, I reckon. The Lawsons were to +get two million plunks for the formula. Martie-boy was Number 1, by the +way. The whole thing was financed by the Reds.” + +“Nice people! What’s being done about it?” + +“Plenty,” returned Bill. “Mr. Jordan brought in the goods—letters, +confidential papers of the organization, and that kind of thing. All the +ringleaders, both in this country and abroad, have been apprehended and +jailed by this time.” + +“Except,” she suggested, “the du Vals, alias Lawson.” + +“That’s right! Let’s go downstairs and find out about them. Nothing more +can be done for Tunbridge until that doctor shows up. He’s had hard luck +all the way round this evening. The Lawsons fooled him nicely about the +time—and then this crack on the nut into the bargain!” + +“What do you mean—about the time?” + +“Why, he overheard the fair Laura telling her hubby that they would +vamoose at two this morning, and that she would nab the formula just +before leaving. That’s why Tunbridge specified midnight. He thought that +two hours leeway would have been plenty of time for you.” + +“I ’spose they suspected him then, and were just giving him the razz?” + +Bill nodded. “Q.E.D., old girl. You’re learning, aren’t you?” + +Dorothy made a face at him and pushed him out of the room. “By the way,” +continued Bill, as they entered the corridor, “I wonder if Mrs. Lawson +got the paper away from Professor?” + +“She did not!” declared Dorothy. “Look!” + +They paused on the stairs to view the scene below in the entrance hall. +Groups of frightened servants whispered among themselves and here and +there a strange man was posted, with somewhat of an air of grim +watchfulness. Crouched on the hearth and chewing up the last shreds of +some white substance was the puppy. + +“The end of a perfect formula,” declared Bill. “You’d better call the +pup Winnite. He’s full of it by this time. Lucky you made the copy, +Dorothy.” + +“It certainly is!” A voice spoke behind them and they turned to see +Ashton Sanborn descending the broad stair. “Doctor Winn tells me the +passageway from the Lawson woman’s room comes out into the sunken +gardens a quarter of a mile from the house. And I distinctly heard the +whirr of an airplane just now from his open window. They’ve made their +getaway in fine style by this time.” + +“Well—” Dorothy breathed a deep sigh. “I can’t help being glad of it.” + +Bill stared at her. “Well!” he mimicked. “I must say you have +astonishing reactions!” + +“What’s the matter, my dear?” asked Mr. Sanborn. “You’ve done brilliant +work on this case, and then, you know, you’ve saved Winnite.” + +Dorothy was not impressed. “That’s just it,” she retorted. “If I wasn’t +a government servant for the time being, I’d destroy the copy of that +terrible formula myself. As it is, I’ve got to turn it over to you!” + +Ashton Sanborn laid a fatherly hand on her shoulder. “Fortunes of war, +Dorothy. Sorry, but you must, you know.” + +“Oh, I know!” She took the sheet of paper from her slipper and handed it +to him. “And that,” she announced grimly, “spoils all the fun on this +racket.” + + + + + Chapter XVIII + + THE CHRISTMAS SPIRIT + + +Christmas eve was, as Dorothy had predicted, a starry night of frost and +blanketing snow. Red candles twinkled in every holly-wreathed window of +the Dixon home, and a large fir tree before the house glittered with +colored Christmas lights. + +If old Saint Nick had peeped into the dining room windows, he would have +seen a merry company standing round the dinner table, gay with the +crimson-berried holly and waxy mistletoe. At the head of the table stood +Dorothy, appropriately and becomingly dressed in ruby-red velvet. On her +right there was an empty place, and beyond it, old Doctor Winn, a +boutonniere of holly in the lapel of his dinner coat; Mr. Bolton, Bill’s +father, was next down the table, and just beyond stood Ashton Sanborn. +Facing Dorothy at the other end, her father chatted with a bright-eyed +Gretchen, who had Bill on her right. Next to Bill came Doctor Winn’s +ex-butler, John Tunbridge, looking none the worse for his part in the +mixup of the fatal night. Beyond Tunbridge stood Dorothy’s Uncle +Michael, and then another empty chair. + +“Just a moment, Dorothy,” said her father as she was about to sit down. +“We’ve a surprise for you.” + +“Oh, are there more people coming?” She indicated the extra places to +her right and left. “I thought our party was as nearly complete as +possible. Of course it would have been swell if Janet and Howard could +have been with us.” + +“Dum—dum—de dum!” hummed Bill, beating time with his hand like an +orchestra conductor. From the drawing room a piano crashed into the +opening chords of Wagner’s beautiful wedding march. + +“Here Comes the Bride ...” sang the guests at table, and Dorothy’s heart +skipped a beat. + +Through the curtained doorway, walked a blushing girl, leaning on the +arm of a tall young man. She wore a bridal gown of white satin, and her +smiling face, below the draped tulle veil, was the exact counterpart of +the astonished girl at the head of the table. + +“Janet! Howard!” Dorothy ran to them and was caught in her cousin’s +arms. “Where under the sun did you come from? I thought you sailed for +South America last week!” + +“That,” said Howard, grinning broadly, “is a surprise that Mr. Sanborn +sprang on us the day after we were married. He persuaded me to give up +the South American job and got me a much better one with Mr. Bolton.” + +“Meet Mr. Howard Bright, the new manager of my Bridgeport plant,” cried +Bill’s father, and everyone clapped. + +“Why, that’s marvelous!” exclaimed Dorothy. “It’s only an hour’s drive +over there from New Canaan. We’ll be able to see a lot of each other, +Janet.” + +Then Uncle Michael, looking very happy and proud, kissed his daughter +and led her to the chair between his place and Dorothy’s. + +“Daddy gave me the wedding dress,” whispered Janet. “It’s a little bit +late for it, but he insisted.” + +“You look simply darling,” began her cousin, then stopped. Doctor Winn, +who had pushed in her chair, was addressing the company. + +“Ladies, and gentlemen,” he said, “before we start on the Christmas +cheer which our little hostess and her father have so graciously +provided, I would like to propose a toast or two, and may I ask you to +stand again while you drink them with me?” He held up his glass of +golden cider. “First, let us drink long life and great happiness to our +charming bride, Mrs. Howard Bright, and her gallant husband!” + +The company drank the toast enthusiastically. Then Uncle Abe, the +Dixon’s darkey butler, better known to some of Dorothy’s friends as “Ol’ +Man River,” grinning from one black ear to the other, laid small leather +jewel cases before Janet and Howard. + +“Just a little Christmas gift, my children,” explained Doctor Winn. + +“Oh, may we open them now?” asked Janet eagerly. + +“You most certainly may, my dear.” + +They snapped open the lids and the company leaned forward to get a +better view of the contents. + +“I don’t know how to thank you, Doctor Winn,” began Howard, fingering +his handsome gold repeater and chain. + +“Nor I—why—my goodness! I never thought I’d have a string of real +pearls. They are simply too exquisite for words!” + +Doctor Winn laughed and held up a protesting hand. “I’m sure I’m glad +you like them, but guests are requested not to embarrass the speaker. +Now, I have another toast to propose; and this time we will drink a very +Merry Christmas, long life and great happiness to Miss Margaret Schmidt, +my new companion-housekeeper!” + +Gretchen was overwhelmed and blushed furiously. Uncle Abe placed another +jewel case before her, which she opened and found therein a pearl +necklace, the counterpart of Janet’s. All she could do was to sit and +gaze at it with her wide open china-blue eyes. Mr. Dixon raised the +necklace, slipped it over the embarrassed girl’s head, and nodded to the +old gentleman. + +Doctor Winn took the hint and turned the attention of the table guests +to himself. “Third and last, but not in any way the least,” he said, “we +will drink to the heroine of the already famous case of the Double +Cousins. Ladies and gentlemen, I pledge you Dorothy Dixon—whose bravery +and loyalty to her country gained the nation’s thanks through its +mouthpiece, our President in Washington this week. A very Merry +Christmas, my dear, long life and great happiness to you and to our +friend Professor, alias Winnite! By the way, where is the pup? I have a +little remembrance for him, too.” + +“He’s right here beside me, asleep in his basket, Doctor Winn.” Dorothy +picked up the yawning pup and sat him on her lap. + +The old gentleman took a slightly larger morocco case out of his pocket, +this time, and laid it on the white cloth before her. With a smile of +thanks, she pressed the spring and disclosed, lying on a velvet pad, a +double string of gleaming pink pearls. She looked at him, speechless +with pleasure, then down again at the necklace. As she did so, she +started, for beneath the pearls lay an envelope. + +She picked it up and drew forth a paper—“Why! why, it’s my copy of the +Winnite formula!” she cried. + +“The only existing copy, my dear, which I hereby present to your puppy.” + +“But, Doctor Winn, I don’t understand!” + +“My terms to the government were that Winnite should be used for +national defense alone,” he said solemnly. “Washington would not agree. +Therefore I wish the formula destroyed.” + +“Oh, what a darling you are!” Dorothy leaned over and kissed him. “But +let’s not give it to Professor this time, please. The last one made him +horribly sick.” + +She held the paper over a lighted candle and watched Winnite burn to +charred ash. “I certainly am the happiest girl in the world tonight—but +there is just one more toast I’d like to propose before we commence +dinner. Here’s a long life and a Merry Christmas to Mr. and Mrs. Martin +Lawson—if it hadn’t been for them, think of all the fun we’d have +missed!” + + THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Dorothy Dixon and the Double Cousin, by +Dorothy Wayne + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44670 *** |