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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/5073-0.txt b/5073-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..515c6cf --- /dev/null +++ b/5073-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12684 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook of The War Terror, by Arthur B. Reeve + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at +www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you +will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before +using this eBook. + +Title: The War Terror + +Author: Arthur B. Reeve + +Release Date: February 1, 2004 [eBook #5073] +[Most recently updated: October 2, 2022] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +Produced by: Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WAR TERROR *** + + + + + +[Illustration] + +THE CRAIG KENNEDY SERIES + + + + +The War Terror + +by Arthur B. Reeve + + + + +Contents + + INTRODUCTION + CHAPTER I. THE WAR TERROR + CHAPTER II. THE ELECTRO-MAGNETIC GUN + CHAPTER III. THE MURDER SYNDICATE + CHAPTER IV. THE AIR PIRATE + CHAPTER V. THE ULTRA-VIOLET RAY + CHAPTER VI. THE TRIPLE MIRROR + CHAPTER VII. THE WIRELESS WIRETAPPERS + CHAPTER VIII. THE HOUSEBOAT MYSTERY + CHAPTER IX. THE RADIO DETECTIVE + CHAPTER X. THE CURIO SHOP + CHAPTER XI. THE “PILLAR OF DEATH” + CHAPTER XII. THE ARROW POISON + CHAPTER XIII. THE RADIUM ROBBER + CHAPTER XIV. THE SPINTHARISCOPE + CHAPTER XV. THE ASPHYXIATING SAFE + CHAPTER XVI. THE DEAD LINE + CHAPTER XVII. THE PASTE REPLICA + CHAPTER XVIII. THE BURGLAR’S MICROPHONE + CHAPTER XIX. THE GERM LETTER + CHAPTER XX. THE ARTIFICIAL KIDNEY + CHAPTER XXI. THE POISON BRACELET + CHAPTER XXII. THE DEVIL WORSHIPERS + CHAPTER XXIII. THE PSYCHIC CURSE + CHAPTER XXIV. THE SERPENT’S TOOTH + CHAPTER XXV. THE “HAPPY DUST” + CHAPTER XXVI. THE BINET TEST + CHAPTER XXVII. THE LIE DETECTOR + CHAPTER XXVIII. THE FAMILY SKELETON + CHAPTER XXIX. THE LEAD POISONER + CHAPTER XXX. THE ELECTROLYTIC MURDER + CHAPTER XXXI. THE EUGENIC BRIDE + CHAPTER XXXII. THE GERM PLASM + CHAPTER XXXIII. THE SEX CONTROL + CHAPTER XXXIV. THE BILLIONAIRE BABY + CHAPTER XXXV. THE PSYCHANALYSIS + CHAPTER XXXVI. THE ENDS OF JUSTICE + + + + +INTRODUCTION + + +As I look back now on the sensational events of the past months since +the great European War began, it seems to me as if there had never been +a period in Craig Kennedy’s life more replete with thrilling adventures +than this. + +In fact, scarcely had one mysterious event been straightened out from +the tangled skein, when another, even more baffling, crowded on its +very heels. + +As was to have been expected with us in America, not all of these +remarkable experiences grew either directly or indirectly out of the +war, but there were several that did, and they proved to be only the +beginning of a succession of events which kept me busy chronicling for +the _Star_ the exploits of my capable and versatile friend. + +Altogether, this period of the war was, I am sure, quite the most +exciting of the many series of episodes through which Craig has been +called upon to go. Yet he seemed to meet each situation as it arose +with a fresh mind, which was amazing even to me who have known him so +long and so intimately. + +As was naturally to be supposed, also, at such a time, it was not long +before Craig found himself entangled in the marvelous spy system of the +warring European nations. These systems revealed their devious and dark +ways, ramifying as they did tentacle-like even across the ocean in +their efforts to gain their ends in neutral America. Not only so, but, +as I shall some day endeavor to show later, when the ban of silence +imposed by neutrality is raised after the war, many of the horrors of +the war were brought home intimately to us. + +I have, after mature consideration, decided that even at present +nothing but good can come from the publication at least of some part of +the strange series of adventures through which Kennedy and I have just +gone, especially those which might, if we had not succeeded, have +caused most important changes in current history. As for the other +adventures, no question can be raised about the propriety of their +publication. + +At any rate, it came about that early in August, when the war cloud was +just beginning to loom blackest, Kennedy was unexpectedly called into +one of the strangest, most dangerous situations in which his peculiar +and perilous profession had ever involved him. + + + + +CHAPTER I +THE WAR TERROR + + +“I must see Professor Kennedy—where is he?—I must see him, for God’s +sake!” + +I was almost carried off my feet by the inrush of a wild-eyed girl, +seemingly half crazed with excitement, as she cried out Craig’s name. + +Startled by my own involuntary exclamation of surprise which followed +the vision that shot past me as I opened our door in response to a +sudden, sharp series of pushes at the buzzer, Kennedy bounded swiftly +toward me, and the girl almost flung herself upon him. + +“Why, Miss—er—Miss—my dear young lady—what’s the matter?” he stammered, +catching her by the arm gently. + +As Kennedy forced our strange visitor into a chair, I observed that she +was all a-tremble. Her teeth fairly chattered. Alternately her nervous, +peaceless hands clutched at an imaginary something in the air, as if +for support, then, finding none, she would let her wrists fall supine, +while she gazed about with quivering lips and wild, restless eyes. +Plainly, there was something she feared. She was almost over the verge +of hysteria. + +She was a striking girl, of medium height and slender form, but it was +her face that fascinated me, with its delicately molded features, +intense unfathomable eyes of dark brown, and lips that showed her +idealistic, high-strung temperament. + +“Please,” he soothed, “get yourself together, please—try! What is the +matter?” + +She looked about, as if she feared that the very walls had eyes and +ears. Yet there seemed to be something bursting from her lips that she +could not restrain. + +“My life,” she cried wildly, “my life is at stake. Oh—help me, help me! +Unless I commit a murder to-night, I shall be killed myself!” + +The words sounded so doubly strange from a girl of her evident +refinement that I watched her narrowly, not sure yet but that we had a +plain case of insanity to deal with. + +“A murder?” repeated Kennedy incredulously. “_You_ commit a murder?” + +Her eyes rested on him, as if fascinated, but she did not flinch as she +replied desperately, “Yes—Baron Kreiger—you know, the German diplomat +and financier, who is in America raising money and arousing sympathy +with his country.” + +“Baron Kreiger!” exclaimed Kennedy in surprise, looking at her more +keenly. + +We had not met the Baron, but we had heard much about him, young, +handsome, of an old family, trusted already in spite of his youth by +many of the more advanced of old world financial and political leaders, +one who had made a most favorable impression on democratic America at a +time when such impressions were valuable. + +Glancing from one of us to the other, she seemed suddenly, with a great +effort, to recollect herself, for she reached into her chatelaine and +pulled out a card from a case. + +It read simply, “Miss Paula Lowe.” + +“Yes,” she replied, more calmly now to Kennedy’s repetition of the +Baron’s name, “you see, I belong to a secret group.” She appeared to +hesitate, then suddenly added, “I am an anarchist.” + +She watched the effect of her confession and, finding the look on +Kennedy’s face encouraging rather than shocked, went on breathlessly: +“We are fighting war with war—this iron-bound organization of men and +women. We have pledged ourselves to exterminate all kings, emperors and +rulers, ministers of war, generals—but first of all the financiers who +lend money that makes war possible.” + +She paused, her eyes gleaming momentarily with something like the +militant enthusiasm that must have enlisted her in the paradoxical war +against war. + +“We are at least going to make another war impossible!” she exclaimed, +for the moment evidently forgetting herself. + +“And your plan?” prompted Kennedy, in the most matter-of-fact manner, +as though he were discussing an ordinary campaign for social +betterment. “How were you to—reach the Baron?” + +“We had a drawing,” she answered with amazing calmness, as if the mere +telling relieved her pent-up feelings. “Another woman and I were +chosen. We knew the Baron’s weakness for a pretty face. We planned to +become acquainted with him—lure him on.” + +Her voice trailed off, as if, the first burst of confidence over, she +felt something that would lock her secret tighter in her breast. + +A moment later she resumed, now talking rapidly, disconnectedly, giving +Kennedy no chance to interrupt or guide the conversation. + +“You don’t know, Professor Kennedy,” she began again, “but there are +similar groups to ours in European countries and the plan is to strike +terror and consternation everywhere in the world at once. Why, at our +headquarters there have been drawn up plans and agreements with other +groups and there are set down the time, place, and manner of all +the—the removals.” + +Momentarily she seemed to be carried away by something like the +fanaticism of the fervor which had at first captured her, even still +held her as she recited her incredible story. + +“Oh, can’t you understand?” she went on, as if to justify herself. “The +increase in armies, the frightful implements of slaughter, the total +failure of the peace propaganda—they have all defied civilization! + +“And then, too, the old, red-blooded emotions of battle have all been +eliminated by the mechanical conditions of modern warfare in which men +and women are just so many units, automata. Don’t you see? To fight war +with its own weapons—that has become the only last resort.” + +Her eager, flushed face betrayed the enthusiasm which had once carried +her into the “Group,” as she called it. I wondered what had brought her +now to us. + +“We are no longer making war against man,” she cried. “We are making +war against picric acid and electric wires!” + +I confess that I could not help thinking that there was no doubt that +to a certain type of mind the reasoning might appeal most strongly. + +“And you would do it in war time, too?” asked Kennedy quickly. + +She was ready with an answer. “King George of Greece was killed at the +head of his troops. Remember Nazim Pasha, too. Such people are easily +reached in time of peace and in time of war, also, by sympathizers on +their own side. That’s it, you see—we have followers of all +nationalities.” + +She stopped, her burst of enthusiasm spent. A moment later she leaned +forward, her clean-cut profile showing her more earnest than before. +“But, oh, Professor Kennedy,” she added, “it is working itself out to +be more terrible than war itself!” + +“Have any of the plans been carried out yet?” asked Craig, I thought a +little superciliously, for there had certainly been no such wholesale +assassination yet as she had hinted at. + +She seemed to catch her breath. “Yes,” she murmured, then checked +herself as if in fear of saying too much. “That is, I—I think so.” + +I wondered if she were concealing something, perhaps had already had a +hand in some such enterprise and it had frightened her. + +Kennedy leaned forward, observing the girl’s discomfiture. “Miss Lowe,” +he said, catching her eye and holding it almost hypnotically, “why have +you come to see me?” + +The question, pointblank, seemed to startle her. Evidently she had +thought to tell only as little as necessary, and in her own way. She +gave a little nervous laugh, as if to pass it off. But Kennedy’s eyes +conquered. + +“Oh, can’t you understand yet?” she exclaimed, rising passionately and +throwing out her arms in appeal. “I was carried away with my hatred of +war. I hate it yet. But now—the sudden realization of what this compact +all means has—well, caused something in me to—to snap. I don’t care +what oath I have taken. Oh, Professor Kennedy, you—you must save him!” + +I looked up at her quickly. What did she mean? At first she had come to +be saved herself. “You must save him!” she implored. + +Our door buzzer sounded. + +She gazed about with a hunted look, as if she felt that some one had +even now pursued her and found out. + +“What shall I do?” she whispered. “Where shall I go?” + +“Quick—in here. No one will know,” urged Kennedy, opening the door to +his room. He paused for an instant, hurriedly. “Tell me—have you and +this other woman met the Baron yet? How far has it gone?” + +The look she gave him was peculiar. I could not fathom what was going +on in her mind. But there was no hesitation about her answer. “Yes,” +she replied, “I—we have met him. He is to come back to New York from +Washington to-day—this afternoon—to arrange a private loan of five +million dollars with some bankers secretly. We were to see him +to-night—a quiet dinner, after an automobile ride up the Hudson—” + +“Both of you?” interrupted Craig. + +“Yes—that—that other woman and myself,” she repeated, with a peculiar +catch in her voice. “To-night was the time fixed in the drawing for +the—” + +The word stuck in her throat. Kennedy understood. “Yes, yes,” he +encouraged, “but who is the other woman?” + +Before she could reply, the buzzer had sounded again and she had +retreated from the door. Quickly Kennedy closed it and opened the +outside door. + +It was our old friend Burke of the Secret Service. + +Without a word of greeting, a hasty glance seemed to assure him that +Kennedy and I were alone. He closed the door himself, and, instead of +sitting down, came close to Craig. + +“Kennedy,” he blurted out in a tone of suppressed excitement, “can I +trust you to keep a big secret?” + +Craig looked at him reproachfully, but said nothing. + +“I beg your pardon—a thousand times,” hastened Burke. “I was so +excited, I wasn’t thinking—” + +“Once is enough, Burke,” laughed Kennedy, his good nature restored at +Burke’s crestfallen appearance. + +“Well, you see,” went on the Secret Service man, “this thing is so very +important that—well, I forgot.” + +He sat down and hitched his chair close to us, as he went on in a +lowered, almost awestruck tone. + +“Kennedy,” he whispered, “I’m on the trail, I think, of something +growing out of these terrible conditions in Europe that will tax the +best in the Secret Service. Think of it, man. There’s an organization, +right here in this city, a sort of assassin’s club, as it were, aimed +at all the powerful men the world over. Why, the most refined and +intellectual reformers have joined with the most red-handed anarchists +and—” + +“Sh! not so loud,” cautioned Craig. “I think I have one of them in the +next room. Have they done anything yet to the Baron?” + +It was Burke’s turn now to look from one to the other of us in +unfeigned surprise that we should already know something of his secret. + +“The Baron?” he repeated, lowering his voice. “What Baron?” + +It was evident that Burke knew nothing, at least of this new plot which +Miss Lowe had indicated. Kennedy beckoned him over to the window +furthest from the door to his own room. + +“What have you discovered?” he asked, forestalling Burke in the +questioning. “What has happened?” + +“You haven’t heard, then?” replied Burke. + +Kennedy nodded negatively. + +“Fortescue, the American inventor of fortescite, the new explosive, +died very strangely this morning.” + +“Yes,” encouraged Kennedy, as Burke came to a full stop to observe the +effect of the information. + +“Most incomprehensible, too,” he pursued. “No cause, apparently. But it +might have been overlooked, perhaps, except for one thing. It wasn’t +known generally, but Fortescue had just perfected a successful +electro-magnetic gun—powderless, smokeless, flashless, noiseless and of +tremendous power. To-morrow he was to have signed the contract to sell +it to England. This morning he is found dead and the final plans of the +gun are gone!” + +Kennedy and Burke were standing mutely looking at each other. + +“Who is in the next room?” whispered Burke hoarsely, recollecting +Kennedy’s caution of silence. + +Kennedy did not reply immediately. He was evidently much excited by +Burke’s news of the wonderful electro-magnetic gun. + +“Burke,” he exclaimed suddenly, “let’s join forces. I think we are both +on the trail of a world-wide conspiracy—a sort of murder syndicate to +wipe out war!” + +Burke’s only reply was a low whistle that involuntarily escaped him as +he reached over and grasped Craig’s hand, which to him represented the +sealing of the compact. + +As for me, I could not restrain a mental shudder at the power that +their first murder had evidently placed in the hands of the anarchists, +if they indeed had the electro-magnetic gun which inventors had been +seeking for generations. What might they not do with it—perhaps even +use it themselves and turn the latest invention against society itself! + +Hastily Craig gave a whispered account of our strange visit from Miss +Lowe, while Burke listened, open-mouthed. + +He had scarcely finished when he reached for the telephone and asked +for long distance. + +“Is this the German embassy in Washington?” asked Craig a few moments +later when he got his number. “This is Craig Kennedy, in New York. The +United States Secret Service will vouch for me—mention to them Mr. +Burke of their New York office who is here with me now. I understand +that Baron Kreiger is leaving for New York to meet some bankers this +afternoon. He must not do so. He is in the gravest danger if he—What? +He left last night at midnight and is already here?” + +Kennedy turned to us blankly. + +The door to his room opened suddenly. + +There stood Miss Lowe, gazing wild-eyed at us. Evidently her +supernervous condition had heightened the keenness of her senses. She +had heard what we were saying. I tried to read her face. It was not +fear that I saw there. It was rage; it was jealousy. + +“The traitress—it is Marie!” she shrieked. + +For a moment, obtusely, I did not understand. + +“She has made a secret appointment with him,” she cried. + +At last I saw the truth. Paula Lowe had fallen in love with the man she +had sworn to kill! + + + + +CHAPTER II +THE ELECTRO-MAGNETIC GUN + + +“What shall we do?” demanded Burke, instantly taking in the dangerous +situation that the Baron’s sudden change of plans had opened up. + +“Call O’Connor,” I suggested, thinking of the police bureau of missing +persons, and reaching for the telephone. + +“No, no!” almost shouted Craig, seizing my arm. “The police will +inevitably spoil it all. No, we must play a lone hand in this if we are +to work it out. How was Fortescue discovered, Burke?” + +“Sitting in a chair in his laboratory. He must have been there all +night. There wasn’t a mark on him, not a sign of violence, yet his face +was terribly drawn as though he were gasping for breath or his heart +had suddenly failed him. So far, I believe, the coroner has no clue and +isn’t advertising the case.” + +“Take me there, then,” decided Craig quickly. “Walter, I must trust +Miss Lowe to you on the journey. We must all go. That must be our +starting point, if we are to run this thing down.” + +I caught his significant look to me and interpreted it to mean that he +wanted me to watch Miss Lowe especially. I gathered that taking her was +in the nature of a third degree and as a result he expected to derive +some information from her. Her face was pale and drawn as we four piled +into a taxicab for a quick run downtown to the laboratory of Fortescue +from which Burke had come directly to us with his story. + +“What do you know of these anarchists?” asked Kennedy of Burke as we +sped along. “Why do you suspect them?” + +It was evident that he was discussing the case so that Paula could +overhear, for a purpose. + +“Why, we received a tip from abroad—I won’t say where,” replied Burke +guardedly, taking his cue. “They call themselves the ‘Group,’ I +believe, which is a common enough term among anarchists. It seems they +are composed of terrorists of all nations.” + +“The leader?” inquired Kennedy, leading him on. + +“There is one, I believe, a little florid, stout German. I think he is +a paranoiac who believes there has fallen on himself a divine mission +to end all warfare. Quite likely he is one of those who have fled to +America to avoid military service. Perhaps, why certainly, you must +know him—Annenberg, an instructor in economics now at the University?” + +Craig nodded and raised his eyebrows in mild surprise. We had indeed +heard of Annenberg and some of his radical theories which had sometimes +quite alarmed the conservative faculty. I felt that this was getting +pretty close home to us now. + +“How about Mrs. Annenberg?” Craig asked, recalling the clever young +wife of the middle-aged professor. + +At the mere mention of the name, I felt a sort of start in Miss Lowe, +who was seated next to me in the taxicab. She had quickly recovered +herself, but not before I saw that Kennedy’s plan of breaking down the +last barrier of her reserve was working. + +“She is one of them, too,” Burke nodded. “I have had my men out +shadowing them and their friends. They tell me that the Annenbergs hold +salons—I suppose you would call them that—attended by numbers of men +and women of high social and intellectual position who dabble in +radicalism and all sorts of things.” + +“Who are the other leaders?” asked Craig. “Have you any idea?” + +“Some idea,” returned Burke. “There seems to be a Frenchman, a tall, +wiry man of forty-five or fifty with a black mustache which once had a +military twist. There are a couple of Englishmen. Then there are five +or six Americans who seem to be active. One, I believe, is a young +woman.” + +Kennedy checked him with a covert glance, but did not betray by a +movement of a muscle to Miss Lowe that either Burke or himself +suspected her of being the young woman in question. + +“There are three Russians,” continued Burke, “all of whom have escaped +from Siberia. Then there is at least one Austrian, a Spaniard from the +Ferrer school, and Tomasso and Enrico, two Italians, rather heavily +built, swarthy, bearded. They look the part. Of course there are +others. But these in the main, I think, compose what might be called +‘the inner circle’ of the ‘Group.’” + +It was indeed an alarming, terrifying revelation, as we began to +realize that Miss Lowe had undoubtedly been telling the truth. Not +alone was there this American group, evidently, but all over Europe the +lines of the conspiracy had apparently spread. It was not a casual +gathering of ordinary malcontents. It went deeper than that. It +included many who in their disgust at war secretly were not unwilling +to wink at violence to end the curse. I could not but reflect on the +dangerous ground on which most of them were treading, shaking the basis +of all civilization in order to cut out one modern excrescence. + +The big fact to us, just at present, was that this group had made +America its headquarters, that plans had been studiously matured and +even reduced to writing, if Paula were to be believed. Everything had +been carefully staged for a great simultaneous blow or series of blows +that would rouse the whole world. + +As I watched I could not escape observing that Miss Lowe followed Burke +furtively now, as though he had some uncanny power. + +Fortescue’s laboratory was in an old building on a side street several +blocks from the main thoroughfares of Manhattan. He had evidently +chosen it, partly because of its very inaccessibility in order to +secure the quiet necessary for his work. + +“If he had any visitors last night,” commented Kennedy when our cab at +last pulled up before the place, “they might have come and gone +unnoticed.” + +We entered. Nothing had been disturbed in the laboratory by the coroner +and Kennedy was able to gain a complete idea of the case rapidly, +almost as well as if we had been called in immediately. + +Fortescue’s body, it seemed, had been discovered sprawled out in a big +armchair, as Burke had said, by one of his assistants only a few hours +before when he had come to the laboratory in the morning to open it. +Evidently he had been there undisturbed all night, keeping a gruesome +vigil over his looted treasure house. + +As we gleaned the meager facts, it became more evident that whoever had +perpetrated the crime must have had the diabolical cunning to do it in +some ordinary way that aroused no suspicion on the part of the victim, +for there was no sign of any violence anywhere. + +As we entered the laboratory, I noted an involuntary shudder on the +part of Paula Lowe, but, as far as I knew, it was no more than might +have been felt by anyone under the circumstances. + +Fortescue’s body had been removed from the chair in which it had been +found and lay on a couch at the other end of the room, covered merely +by a sheet. Otherwise, everything, even the armchair, was undisturbed. + +Kennedy pulled back a corner of the sheet, disclosing the face, +contorted and of a peculiar, purplish hue from the congested blood +vessels. He bent over and I did so, too. There was an unmistakable odor +of tobacco on him. A moment Kennedy studied the face before us, then +slowly replaced the sheet. + +Miss Lowe had paused just inside the door and seemed resolutely bound +not to look at anything. Kennedy meanwhile had begun a most minute +search of the table and floor of the laboratory near the spot where the +armchair had been sitting. + +In my effort to glean what I could from her actions and expressions I +did not notice that Craig had dropped to his knees and was peering into +the shadow under the laboratory table. When at last he rose and +straightened himself up, however, I saw that he was holding in the palm +of his hand a half-smoked, gold-tipped cigarette, which had evidently +fallen on the floor beneath the table where it had burned itself out, +leaving a blackened mark on the wood. + +An instant afterward he picked out from the pile of articles found in +Fortescue’s pockets and lying on another table a silver cigarette case. +He snapped it open. Fortescue’s cigarettes, of which there were perhaps +a half dozen in the case, were cork-tipped. + +Some one had evidently visited the inventor the night before, had +apparently offered him a cigarette, for there were any number of the +cork-tipped stubs lying about. Who was it? I caught Paula looking with +fascinated gaze at the gold-tipped stub, as Kennedy carefully folded it +up in a piece of paper and deposited it in his pocket. Did she know +something about the case, I wondered? + +Without a word, Kennedy seemed to take in the scant furniture of the +laboratory at a glance and a quick step or two brought him before a +steel filing cabinet. One drawer, which had not been closed as tightly +as the rest, projected a bit. On its face was a little typewritten card +bearing the inscription: “E-M GUN.” + +He pulled the drawer open and glanced over the data in it. + +“Just what is an electro-magnetic gun?” I asked, interpreting the +initials on the drawer. + +“Well,” he explained as he turned over the notes and sketches, “the +primary principle involved in the construction of such a gun consists +in impelling the projectile by the magnetic action of a solenoid, the +sectional coils or helices of which are supplied with current through +devices actuated by the projectile itself. In other words, the sections +of helices of the solenoid produce an accelerated motion of the +projectile by acting successively on it, after a principle involved in +the construction of electro-magnetic rock drills and dispatch tubes. + +“All projectiles used in this gun of Fortescue’s evidently must have +magnetic properties and projectiles of iron or containing large +portions of iron are necessary. You see, many coils are wound around +the barrel of the gun. As the projectile starts it does so under the +attraction of those coils ahead which the current makes temporary +magnets. It automatically cuts off the current from those coils that it +passes, allowing those further on only to attract it, and preventing +those behind from pulling it back.” + +He paused to study the scraps of plans. “Fortescue had evidently also +worked out a way of changing the poles of the coils as the projectile +passed, causing them then to repel the projectile, which must have +added to its velocity. He seems to have overcome the practical +difficulty that in order to obtain service velocities with service +projectiles an enormous number of windings and a tremendously long +barrel are necessary as well as an abnormally heavy current beyond the +safe carrying capacity of the solenoid which would raise the +temperature to a point that would destroy the coils.” + +He continued turning over the prints and notes in the drawer. When he +finished, he looked up at us with an expression that indicated that he +had merely satisfied himself of something he had already suspected. + +“You were right, Burke,” he said. “The final plans are gone.” + +Burke, who, in the meantime, had been telephoning about the city in a +vain effort to locate Baron Kreiger, both at such banking offices in +Wall Street as he might be likely to visit and at some of the hotels +most frequented by foreigners, merely nodded. He was evidently at a +loss completely how to proceed. + +In fact, there seemed to be innumerable problems—to warn Baron Kreiger, +to get the list of the assassinations, to guard Miss Lowe against +falling into the hands of her anarchist friends again, to find the +murderer of Fortescue, to prevent the use of the electro-magnetic gun, +and, if possible, to seize the anarchists before they had a chance to +carry further their plans. + +“There is nothing more that we can do here,” remarked Craig briskly, +betraying no sign of hesitation. “I think the best thing we can do is +to go to my own laboratory. There at least there is something I must +investigate sooner or later.” + +No one offering either a suggestion or an objection, we four again +entered our cab. It was quite noticeable now that the visit had shaken +Paula Lowe, but Kennedy still studiously refrained from questioning +her, trusting that what she had seen and heard, especially Burke’s +report as to Baron Kreiger, would have its effect. + +Like everyone visiting Craig’s laboratory for the first time, Miss Lowe +seemed to feel the spell of the innumerable strange and uncanny +instruments which he had gathered about him in his scientific warfare +against crime. I could see that she was becoming more and more nervous, +perhaps fearing even that in some incomprehensible way he might read +her own thoughts. Yet one thing I did not detect. She showed no +disposition to turn back on the course on which she had entered by +coming to us in the first place. + +Kennedy was quickly and deftly testing the stub of the little thin, +gold-tipped cigarette. + +“Excessive smoking,” he remarked casually, “causes neuroses of the +heart and tobacco has a specific affinity for the coronary arteries as +well as a tremendous effect on the vagus nerve. But I don’t think this +was any ordinary smoke.” + +He had finished his tests and a quiet smile of satisfaction flitted +momentarily over his face. We had been watching him anxiously, +wondering what he had found. + +As he looked up he remarked to us, with his eyes fixed on Miss Lowe, +“That was a ladies’ cigarette. Did you notice the size? There has been +a woman in this case—presumably.” + +The girl, suddenly transformed by the rapid-fire succession of +discoveries, stood before us like a specter. + +“The ‘Group,’ as anarchists call it,” pursued Craig, “is the loosest +sort of organization conceivable, I believe, with no set membership, no +officers, no laws—just a place of meeting with no fixity, where the +comrades get together. Could you get us into the inner circle, Miss +Lowe?” + +Her only answer was a little suppressed scream. Kennedy had asked the +question merely for its effect, for it was only too evident that there +was no time, even if she could have managed it, for us to play the +“stool pigeon.” + +Kennedy, who had been clearing up the materials he had used in the +analysis of the cigarette, wheeled about suddenly. “Where is the +headquarters of the inner circle?” he shot out. + +Miss Lowe hesitated. That had evidently been one of the things she had +determined not to divulge. + +“Tell me,” insisted Kennedy. “You must!” + +If it had been Burke’s bulldozing she would never have yielded. But as +she looked into Kennedy’s eyes she read there that he had long since +fathomed the secret of her wildly beating heart, that if she would +accomplish the purpose of saving the Baron she must stop at nothing. + +“At—Maplehurst,” she answered in a low tone, dropping her eyes from his +penetrating gaze, “Professor Annenberg’s home—out on Long Island.” + +“We must act swiftly if we are to succeed,” considered Kennedy, his +tone betraying rather sympathy with than triumph over the wretched girl +who had at last cast everything in the balance to outweigh the terrible +situation into which she had been drawn. “To send Miss Lowe for that +fatal list of assassinations is to send her either back into the power +of this murderous group and let them know that she has told us, or +perhaps to involve her again in the completion of their plans.” + +She sank back into a chair in complete nervous and physical collapse, +covering her face with her hands at the realization that in her +new-found passion to save the Baron she had bared her sensitive soul +for the dissection of three men whom she had never seen before. + +“We must have that list,” pursued Kennedy decisively. “We must visit +Annenberg’s headquarters.” + +“And I?” she asked, trembling now with genuine fear at the thought that +he might ask her to accompany us as he had on our visit to Fortescue’s +laboratory that morning. + +“Miss Lowe,” said Kennedy, bending over her, “you have gone too far now +ever to turn back. You are not equal to the trip. Would you like to +remain here? No one will suspect. Here at least you will be safe until +we return.” + +Her answer was a mute expression of thanks and confidence. + + + + +CHAPTER III +THE MURDER SYNDICATE + + +Quickly now Craig completed his arrangements for the visit to the +headquarters of the real anarchist leader. Burke telephoned for a +high-powered car, while Miss Lowe told frankly of the habits of +Annenberg and the chances of finding his place unguarded, which were +good in the daytime. Kennedy’s only equipment for the excursion +consisted in a small package which he took from a cabinet at the end of +the room, and, with a parting reassurance to Paula Lowe, we were soon +speeding over the bridge to the borough across the river. + +We realized that it might prove a desperate undertaking, but the crisis +was such that it called for any risk. + +Our quest took us to a rather dilapidated old house on the outskirts of +the little Long Island town. The house stood alone, not far from the +tracks of a trolley that ran at infrequent intervals. Even a hasty +reconnoitering showed that to stop our motor at even a reasonable +distance from it was in itself to arouse suspicion. + +Although the house seemed deserted, Craig took no chances, but directed +the car to turn at the next crossroad and then run back along a road +back of and parallel to that on which Annenberg’s was situated. It was +perhaps a quarter of a mile away, across an open field, that we stopped +and ran the car up along the side of the road in some bushes. +Annenberg’s was plainly visible and it was not at all likely that +anyone there would suspect trouble from that quarter. + +A hasty conference with Burke followed, in which Kennedy unwrapped his +small package, leaving part of its contents with him, and adding +careful instructions. + +Then Kennedy and I retraced our steps down the road, across by the +crossroad, and at last back to the mysterious house. + +To all appearance there had been no need of such excessive caution. Not +a sound or motion greeted us as we entered the gate and made our way +around to the rear of the house. The very isolation of the house was +now our protection, for we had no inquisitive neighbors to watch us for +the instant when Kennedy, with the dexterity of a yeggman, inserted his +knife between the sashes of the kitchen window and turned the catch +which admitted us. + +We made our way on cautious tiptoe through a dining room to a living +room, and, finding nothing, proceeded upstairs. There was not a soul, +apparently, in the house, nor in fact anything to indicate that it was +different from most small suburban homes, until at last we mounted to +the attic. + +It was finished off in one large room across the back of the house and +two in front. As we opened the door to the larger room, we could only +gaze about in surprise. This was the rendezvous, the arsenal, literary, +explosive and toxicological of the “Group.” Ranged on a table were all +the materials for bomb-making, while in a cabinet I fancied there were +poisons enough to decimate a city. + +On the walls were pictures, mostly newspaper prints, of the assassins +of McKinley, of King Humbert, of the King of Greece, of King Carlos and +others, interspersed with portraits of anarchist and anti-militarist +leaders of all lands. + +Kennedy sniffed. Over all I, too, could catch the faint odor of stale +tobacco. No time was to be lost, however, and while Craig set to work +rapidly going through the contents of a desk in the corner, I glanced +over the contents of a drawer of a heavy mission table. + +“Here’s some of Annenberg’s literature,” I remarked, coming across a +small pile of manuscript, entitled “The Human Slaughter House.” + +“Read it,” panted Kennedy, seeing that I had about completed my part of +the job. “It may give a clue.” + +Hastily I scanned the mad, frantic indictment of war, while Craig +continued in his search: + +“I see wild beasts all around me, distorted unnaturally, in a life and +death struggle, with bloodshot eyes, with foaming, gnashing mouths. +They attack and kill one another and try to mangle each other. I leap +to my feet. I race out into the night and tread on quaking flesh, step +on hard heads, and stumble over weapons and helmets. Something is +clutching at my feet like hands, so that I race away like a hunted deer +with the hounds at his heels—and ever over more bodies—breathless… out +of one field into another. Horror is crooning over my head. Horror is +crooning beneath my feet. And nothing but dying, mangled flesh! + +“Of a sudden I see nothing but blood before me. The heavens have opened +and the red blood pours in through the windows. Blood wells up on an +altar. The walls run blood from the ceiling to the floor and… a giant +of blood stands before me. His beard and his hair drip blood. He seats +himself on the altar and laughs from thick lips. The black executioner +raises his sword and whirls it above my head. Another moment and my +head will roll down on the floor. Another moment and the red jet will +spurt from my neck. + +“Murderers! Murderers! None other than murderers!” + +I paused in the reading. “There’s nothing here,” I remarked, glancing +over the curious document for a clue, but finding none. + +“Well,” remarked Craig contemplatively, “one can at least easily +understand how sensitive and imaginative people who have fallen under +the influence of one who writes in that way can feel justified in +killing those responsible for bringing such horrors on the human race. +Hello—what’s this?” + +He had discovered a false back of one of the drawers in the desk and +had jimmied it open. On the top of innumerable papers lay a large linen +envelope. On its face it bore in typewriting, just like the card on the +drawer at Fortescue’s, “E-M GUN.” + +“It is the original envelope that contained the final plans of the +electro-magnetic gun,” he explained, opening it. + +The envelope was empty. We looked at each other a moment in silence. +What had been done with the plans? + +Suddenly a bell rang, startling me beyond measure. It was, however, +only the telephone, of which an extension reached up into the +attic-arsenal. Some one, who did not know that we were there, was +evidently calling up. + +Kennedy quickly unhooked the receiver with a hasty motion to me to be +silent. + +“Hello,” I heard him answer. “Yes, this is it.” + +He had disguised his voice. I waited anxiously and watched his face to +gather what response he received. + +“The deuce!” he exclaimed, with his hand over the transmitter so that +his voice would not be heard at the other end of the line. + +“What’s the matter?” I asked eagerly. + +“It was Mrs. Annenberg—I am sure. But she was too keen for me. She +caught on. There must be some password or form of expression that they +use, which we don’t know, for she hung up the receiver almost as soon +as she heard me.” + +Kennedy waited a minute or so. Then he whistled into the transmitter. +It was done apparently to see whether there was anyone listening. But +there was no answer. + +“Operator, operator!” he called insistently, moving the hook up and +down. “Yes, operator. Can you tell me what number that was which just +called?” + +He waited impatiently. + +“Bleecker—7l80,” he repeated after the girl. “Thank you. Information, +please.” + +Again we waited, as Craig tried to trace the call up. + +“What is the street address of Bleecker, 7180?” he asked. “Five hundred +and one East Fifth—a tenement. Thank you.” + +“A tenement?” I repeated blankly. + +“Yes,” he cried, now for the first time excited. “Don’t you begin to +see the scheme? I’ll wager that Baron Kreiger has been lured to New +York to purchase the electro-magnetic gun which they have stolen from +Fortescue and the British. That is the bait that is held out to him by +the woman. Call up Miss Lowe at the laboratory and see if she knows the +place.” + +I gave central the number, while he fell to at the little secret drawer +of the desk again. The grinding of the wheels of a passing trolley +interfered somewhat with giving the number and I had to wait a moment. + +“Ah—Walter—here’s the list!” almost shouted Kennedy, as he broke open a +black-japanned dispatch box in the desk. + +I bent over it, as far as the slack of the telephone wire of the +receiver at my ear would permit. Annenberg had worked with amazing care +and neatness on the list, even going so far as to draw at the top, in +black, a death’s head. The rest of it was elaborately prepared in +flaming red ink. + +Craig gasped to observe the list of world-famous men marked for +destruction in London, Paris, Berlin, Rome, Vienna, St. Petersburg, and +even in New York and Washington. + +“What is the date set?” I asked, still with my ear glued to the +receiver. + +“To-night and to-morrow,” he replied, stuffing the fateful sheet into +his pocket. + +Rummaging about in the drawer of the table, I had come to a package of +gold-tipped cigarettes which had interested me and I had left them out. +Kennedy was now looking at them curiously. + +“What is to be the method, do you suppose?” I asked. + +“By a poison that is among the most powerful, approaching even +cyanogen,” he replied confidently, tapping the cigarettes. “Do you +smell the odor in this room? What is it like?” + +“Stale tobacco,” I replied. + +“Exactly—nicotine. Two or three drops on the mouth-end of a cigar or +cigarette. The intended victim thinks it is only natural. But it is the +purest form of the deadly alkaloid—fatal in a few minutes, too.” + +He examined the thin little cigarettes more carefully. “Nicotine,” he +went on, “was about the first alkaloid that was recovered from the body +by chemical analysis in a homicide case. That is the penetrating, +persistent odor you smelled at Fortescue’s and also here. It’s a very +good poison—if you are not particular about being discovered. A pound +of ordinary smoking tobacco contains from a half to an ounce of it. It +is almost entirely consumed by combustion; otherwise a pipeful would be +fatal. Of course they may have thought that investigators would believe +that their victims were inveterate smokers. But even the worst tobacco +fiend wouldn’t show traces of the weed to such an extent.” + +Miss Lowe answered at last and Kennedy took the telephone. + +“What is at five hundred and one East Fifth?” he asked. + +“A headquarters of the Group in the city,” she answered. “Why?” + +“Well, I believe that the plans of that gun are there and that the +Baron—” + +“You damned spies!” came a voice from behind us. + +Kennedy dropped the receiver, turning quickly, his automatic gleaming +in his hand. + +There was just a glimpse of a man with glittering bright blue eyes that +had an almost fiendish, baleful glare. An instant later the door which +had so unexpectedly opened banged shut, we heard a key turn in the +lock—and the man dropped to the floor before even Kennedy’s automatic +could test its ability to penetrate wood on a chance at hitting +something the other side of it. + +We were prisoners! + +My mind worked automatically. At this very moment, perhaps, Baron +Kreiger might be negotiating for the electro-magnetic gun. We had found +out where he was, in all probability, but we were powerless to help +him. I thought of Miss Lowe, and picked up the receiver which Kennedy +had dropped. + +She did not answer. The wire had been cut. We were isolated! + +Kennedy had jumped to the window. I followed to restrain him, fearing +that he had some mad scheme for climbing out. Instead, quickly he +placed a peculiar arrangement, from the little package he had brought, +holding it to his eye as if sighting it, his right hand grasping a +handle as one holds a stereoscope. A moment later, as I examined it +more closely, I saw that instead of looking at anything he had before +him a small parabolic mirror turned away from him. + +His finger pressed alternately on a button on the handle and I could +see that there flashed in the little mirror a minute incandescent lamp +which seemed to have a special filament arrangement. + +The glaring sun was streaming in at the window and I wondered what +could possibly be accomplished by the little light in competition with +the sun itself. + +“Signaling by electric light in the daytime may sound to you +ridiculous,” explained Craig, still industriously flashing the light, +“but this arrangement with Professor Donath’s signal mirror makes it +possible, all right. + +“I hadn’t expected this, but I thought I might want to communicate with +Burke quickly. You see, I sight the lamp and then press the button +which causes the light in the mirror to flash. It seems a paradox that +a light like this can be seen from a distance of even five miles and +yet be invisible to one for whom it was not intended, but it is so. I +use the ordinary Morse code—two seconds for a dot, six for a dash with +a four-second interval.” + +“What message did you send?” I asked. + +“I told him that Baron Kreiger was at five hundred and one East Fifth, +probably; to get the secret service office in New York by wire and have +them raid the place, then to come and rescue us. That was Annenberg. He +must have come up by that trolley we heard passing just before.” + +The minutes seemed ages as we waited for Burke to start the machinery +of the raid and then come for us. + +“No—you can’t have a cigarette—and if I had a pair of bracelets with +me, I’d search you myself,” we heard a welcome voice growl outside the +door a few minutes later. “Look in that other pocket, Tom.” + +The lock grated back and there stood Burke holding in a grip of steel +the undersized Annenberg, while the chauffeur who had driven our car +swung open the door. + +“I’d have been up sooner,” apologized Burke, giving the anarchist an +extra twist just to let him know that he was at last in the hands of +the law, “only I figured that this fellow couldn’t have got far away in +this God-forsaken Ducktown and I might as well pick him up while I had +a chance. That’s a great little instrument of yours, Kennedy. I got +you, fine.” + +Annenberg, seeing we were now four to one, concluded that discretion +was the better part of valor and ceased to struggle, though now and +then I could see he glanced at Kennedy out of the corner of his eye. To +every question he maintained a stolid silence. + +A few minutes later, with the arch anarchist safely pinioned between +us, we were speeding back toward New York, laying plans for Burke to +dispatch warnings abroad to those whose names appeared on the fatal +list, and at the same time to round up as many of the conspirators as +possible in America. + +As for Kennedy, his main interest now lay in Baron Kreiger and Paula. +While she had been driven frantic by the outcome of the terrible pact +into which she had been drawn, some one, undoubtedly, had been trying +to sell Baron Kreiger the gun that had been stolen from the American +inventor. Once they had his money and he had received the plans of the +gun, a fatal cigarette would be smoked. Could we prevent it? + +On we tore back to the city, across the bridge and down through the +canyons of East Side streets. + +At last we pulled up before the tenement at five hundred and one. As we +did so, one of Burke’s men jumped out of the doorway. + +“Are we in time?” shouted Burke. + +“It’s an awful mix-up,” returned the man. “I can’t make anything out of +it, so I ordered ’em all held here till you came.” + +We pushed past without a word of criticism of his wonderful acumen. + +On the top floor we came upon a young man, bending over the form of a +girl who had fainted. On the floor of the middle of the room was a mass +of charred papers which had evidently burned a hole in the carpet +before they had been stamped out. Near by was an unlighted cigarette, +crushed flat on the floor. + +“How is she?” asked Kennedy anxiously of the young man, as he dropped +down on the other side of the girl. + +It was Paula. She had fainted, but was just now coming out of the +borderland of unconsciousness. + +“Was I in time? Had he smoked it?” she moaned weakly, as there swam +before her eyes, evidently, a hazy vision of our faces. + +Kennedy turned to the young man. + +“Baron Kreiger, I presume?” he inquired. + +The young man nodded. + +“Burke of the Secret Service,” introduced Craig, indicating our friend. +“My name is Kennedy. Tell what happened.” + +“I had just concluded a transaction,” returned Kreiger in good but +carefully guarded English. “Suddenly the door burst open. She seized +these papers and dashed a cigarette out of my hands. The next instant +she had touched a match to them and had fallen in a faint almost in the +blaze. Strangest experience I ever had in my life. Then all these other +fellows came bursting in—said they were Secret Service men, too.” + +Kennedy had no time to reply, for a cry from Annenberg directed our +attention to the next room where on a couch lay a figure all huddled +up. + +As we looked we saw it was a woman, her head sweating profusely, and +her hands cold and clammy. There was a strange twitching of the muscles +of the face, the pupils of her eyes were widely dilated, her pulse weak +and irregular. Evidently her circulation had failed so that it +responded only feebly to stimulants, for her respiration was slow and +labored, with loud inspiratory gasps. + +Annenberg had burst with superhuman strength from Burke’s grasp and was +kneeling by the side of his wife’s deathbed. + +“It—was all Paula’s fault—” gasped the woman. “I—knew I had +better—carry it through—like the Fortescue visit—alone.” + +I felt a sense of reassurance at the words. At least my suspicions had +been unfounded. Paula was innocent of the murder of Fortescue. + +“Severe, acute nicotine poisoning,” remarked Kennedy, as he rejoined us +a moment later. “There is nothing we can do—now.” + +Paula moved at the words, as though they had awakened a new energy in +her. With a supreme effort she raised herself. + +“Then I—I failed?” she cried, catching sight of Kennedy. + +“No, Miss Lowe,” he answered gently. “You won. The plans of the +terrible gun are destroyed. The Baron is safe. Mrs. Annenberg has +herself smoked one of the fatal cigarettes intended for him.” + +Kreiger looked at us, uncomprehending. Kennedy picked up the crushed, +unlighted cigarette and laid it in the palm of his hand beside another, +half smoked, which he had found beside Mrs. Annenberg. + +“They are deadly,” he said simply to Kreiger. “A few drops of pure +nicotine hidden by that pretty gilt tip would have accomplished all +that the bitterest anarchist could desire.” + +All at once Kreiger seemed to realize what he had escaped so narrowly. +He turned toward Paula. The revulsion of her feelings at seeing him +safe was too much for her shattered nerves. + +With a faint little cry, she tottered. + +Before any of us could reach her, he had caught her in his arms and +imprinted a warm kiss on the insensible lips. + +“Some water—quick!” he cried, still holding her close. + + + + +CHAPTER IV +THE AIR PIRATE + + +Rounding up the “Group” took several days, and it proved to be a great +story for the _Star_. I was pretty fagged when it was all over, but +there was a great deal of satisfaction in knowing that we had +frustrated one of the most daring anarchist plots of recent years. + +“Can you arrange to spend the week-end with me at Stuyvesant +Verplanck’s at Bluffwood?” asked Kennedy over the telephone, the +afternoon that I had completed my work on the newspaper of undoing what +Annenberg and the rest had attempted. + +“How long since society took you up?” I asked airily, adding, “Is it a +large house party you are getting up?” + +“You have heard of the so-called ‘phantom bandit’ of Bluffwood, haven’t +you?” he returned rather brusquely, as though there was no time now for +bantering. + +I confess that in the excitement of the anarchists I had forgotten it, +but now I recalled that for several days I had been reading little +paragraphs about robberies on the big estates on the Long Island shore +of the Sound. One of the local correspondents had called the robber a +“phantom bandit,” but I had thought it nothing more than an attempt to +make good copy out of a rather ordinary occurrence. + +“Well,” he hurried on, “that’s the reason why I have been ‘taken up by +society,’ as you so elegantly phrase it. From the secret hiding-places +of the boudoirs and safes of fashionable women at Bluffwood, thousands +of dollars’ worth of jewels and other trinkets have mysteriously +vanished. Of course you’ll come along. Why, it will be just the story +to tone up that alleged page of society news you hand out in the Sunday +_Star_. There—we’re quits now. Seriously, though, Walter, it really +seems to be a very baffling case, or rather series of cases. The whole +colony out there is terrorized. They don’t know who the robber is, or +how he operates, or who will be the next victim, but his skill and +success seem almost uncanny. Mr. Verplanck has put one of his cars at +my disposal and I’m up here at the laboratory gathering some apparatus +that may be useful. I’ll pick you up anywhere between this and the +Bridge—how about Columbus Circle in half an hour?” + +“Good,” I agreed, deciding quickly from his tone and manner of +assurance that it would be a case I could not afford to miss. + +The Stuyvesant Verplancks, I knew, were among the leaders of the rather +recherché society at Bluffwood, and the pace at which Bluffwood moved +and had its being was such as to guarantee a good story in one way or +another. + +“Why,” remarked Kennedy, as we sped out over the picturesque roads of +the north shore of Long Island, “this fellow, or fellows, seems to have +taken the measure of all the wealthy members of the exclusive +organizations out there—the Westport Yacht Club, the Bluffwood Country +Club, the North Shore Hunt, and all of them. It’s a positive scandal, +the ease with which he seems to come and go without detection, striking +now here, now there, often at places that it seems physically +impossible to get at, and yet always with the same diabolical skill and +success. One night he will take some baubles worth thousands, the next +pass them by for something apparently of no value at all, a piece of +bric-à-brac, a bundle of letters, anything.” + +“Seems purposeless, insane, doesn’t it?” I put in. + +“Not when he always takes something—often more valuable than money,” +returned Craig. + +He leaned back in the car and surveyed the glimpses of bay and +countryside as we were whisked by the breaks in the trees. + +“Walter,” he remarked meditatively, “have you ever considered the +possibilities of blackmail if the right sort of evidence were obtained +under this new ‘white-slavery act’? Scandals that some of the fast set +may be inclined to wink at, that at worst used to end in Reno, become +felonies with federal prison sentences looming up in the background. +Think it over.” + +Stuyvesant Verplanck had telephoned rather hurriedly to Craig earlier +in the day, retaining his services, but telling only in the briefest +way of the extent of the depredations, and hinting that more than +jewelry might be at stake. + +It was a pleasant ride, but we finished it in silence. Verplanck was, +as I recalled, a large masterful man, one of those who demanded and +liked large things—such as the estate of several hundred acres which we +at last entered. + +It was on a neck of land with the restless waters of the Sound on one +side and the calmer waters of the bay on the other. Westport Bay lay in +a beautifully wooded, hilly country, and the house itself was on an +elevation, with a huge sweep of terraced lawn before it down to the +water’s edge. All around, for miles, were other large estates, a +veritable colony of wealth. + +As we pulled up under the broad stone porte-cochère, Verplanck, who had +been expecting us, led the way into his library, a great room, +literally crowded with curios and objects of art which he had collected +on his travels. It was a superb mental workshop, overlooking the bay, +with a stretch of several miles of sheltered water. + +“You will recall,” began Verplanck, wasting no time over preliminaries, +but plunging directly into the subject, “that the prominent robberies +of late have been at seacoast resorts, especially on the shores of Long +Island Sound, within, say, a hundred miles of New York. There has been +a great deal of talk about dark and muffled automobiles that have +conveyed mysterious parties swiftly and silently across country. + +“My theory,” he went on self-assertively, “is that the attack has been +made always along water routes. Under shadow of darkness, it is easy to +slip into one of the sheltered coves or miniature fiords with which the +north coast of the Island abounds, land a cut-throat crew primed with +exact information of the treasure on some of these estates. Once the +booty is secured, the criminal could put out again into the Sound +without leaving a clue.” + +He seemed to be considering his theory. “Perhaps the robberies last +summer at Narragansett, Newport, and a dozen other New England places +were perpetrated by the same cracksman. I believe,” he concluded, +lowering his voice, “that there plies to-day on the wide waters of the +Sound a slim, swift motor boat which wears the air of a pleasure craft, +yet is as black a pirate as ever flew the Jolly Roger. She may at this +moment be anchored off some exclusive yacht club, flying the +respectable burgee of the club—who knows?” + +He paused as if his deductions settled the case so far. He would have +resumed in the same vein, if the door had not opened. A lady in a +cobwebby gown entered the room. She was of middle age, but had retained +her youth with a skill that her sisters of less leisure always envy. +Evidently she had not expected to find anyone, yet nothing seemed to +disconcert her. + +“Mrs. Verplanck,” her husband introduced, “Professor Kennedy and his +associate, Mr. Jameson—those detectives we have heard about. We were +discussing the robberies.” + +“Oh, yes,” she said, smiling, “my husband has been thinking of forming +himself into a vigilance committee. The local authorities are all at +sea.” + +I thought there was a trace of something veiled in the remark and +fancied, not only then but later, that there was an air of constraint +between the couple. + +“You have not been robbed yourself?” queried Craig tentatively. + +“Indeed we have,” exclaimed Verplanck quickly. “The other night I was +awakened by the noise of some one down here in this very library. I +fired a shot, wild, and shouted, but before I could get down here the +intruder had fled through a window, and half rolling down the terraces. +Mrs. Verplanck was awakened by the rumpus and both of us heard a +peculiar whirring noise.” + +“Like an automobile muffled down,” she put in. + +“No,” he asserted vigorously, “more like a powerful motor boat, one +with the exhaust under water.” + +“Well,” she shrugged, “at any rate, we saw no one.” + +“Did the intruder get anything?” + +“That’s the lucky part. He had just opened this safe apparently and +begun to ransack it. This is my private safe. Mrs. Verplanck has +another built into her own room upstairs where she keeps her jewels.” + +“It is not a very modern safe, is it?” ventured Kennedy. “The fellow +ripped off the outer casing with what they call a ‘can-opener.’” + +“No. I keep it against fire rather than burglars. But he overlooked a +box of valuable heirlooms, some silver with the Verplanck arms. I think +I must have scared him off just in time. He seized a package in the +safe, but it was only some business correspondence. I don’t relish +having lost it, particularly. It related to a gentlemen’s agreement a +number of us had in the recent cotton corner. I suppose the Government +would like to have it. But—here’s the point. If it is so easy to get in +and get away, no one in Bluffwood is safe.” + +“Why, he robbed the Montgomery Carter place the other night,” remarked +Mrs. Verplanck, “and almost got a lot of old Mrs. Carter’s jewels as +well as stuff belonging to her son, Montgomery, Junior. That was the +first robbery. Mr. Carter, that is Junior—Monty, everyone calls him—and +his chauffeur almost captured the fellow, but he managed to escape in +the woods.” + +“In the woods?” repeated Craig. + +Mrs. Verplanck nodded. “But they saved the loot he was about to take.” + +“Oh, no one is safe any more,” reiterated Verplanck. “Carter seems to +be the only one who has had a real chance at him, and he was able to +get away neatly.” + +“But he’s not the only one who got off without a loss,” she put in +significantly. “The last visit—” Then she paused. + +“Where was the last attempt?” asked Kennedy. + +“At the house of Mrs. Hollingsworth—around the point on this side of +the bay. You can’t see it from here.” + +“I’d like to go there,” remarked Kennedy. + +“Very well. Car or boat?” + +“Boat, I think.” + +“Suppose we go in my little runabout, the _Streamline II_? She’s as +fast as any ordinary automobile.” + +“Very good. Then we can get an idea of the harbor.” + +“I’ll telephone first that we are coming,” said Verplanck. + +“I think I’ll go, too,” considered Mrs. Verplanck, ringing for a heavy +wrap. + +“Just as you please,” said Verplanck. + +The _Streamline_ was a three-stepped boat which. Verplanck had built +for racing, a beautiful craft, managed much like a racing automobile. +As she started from the dock, the purring drone of her eight cylinders +sent her feathering over the waves like a skipping stone. She sank back +into the water, her bow leaping upward, a cloud of spray in her wake, +like a waterspout. + +Mrs. Hollingsworth was a wealthy divorcée, living rather quietly with +her two children, of whom the courts had awarded her the care. She was +a striking woman, one of those for whom the new styles of dress seem +especially to have been designed. I gathered, however, that she was not +on very good terms with the little Westport clique in which the +Verplancks moved, or at least not with Mrs. Verplanck. The two women +seemed to regard each other rather coldly, I thought, although Mr. +Verplanck, man-like, seemed to scorn any distinctions and was more than +cordial. I wondered why Mrs. Verplanck had come. + +The Hollingsworth house was a beautiful little place down the bay from +the Yacht Club, but not as far as Verplanck’s, or the Carter estate, +which was opposite. + +“Yes,” replied Mrs. Hollingsworth when the reason for our visit had +been explained, “the attempt was a failure. I happened to be awake, +rather late, or perhaps you would call it early. I thought I heard a +noise as if some one was trying to break into the drawing-room through +the window. I switched on all the lights. I have them arranged so for +just that purpose of scaring off intruders. Then, as I looked out of my +window on the second floor, I fancied I could see a dark figure slink +into the shadow of the shrubbery at the side of the house. Then there +was a whirr. It might have been an automobile, although it sounded +differently from that—more like a motor boat. At any rate, there was no +trace of a car that we could discover in the morning. The road had been +oiled, too, and a car would have left marks. And yet some one was here. +There were marks on the drawing-room window just where I heard the +sounds.” + +Who could it be? I asked myself as we left. I knew that the great army +of chauffeurs was infested with thieves, thugs and gunmen. Then, too, +there were maids, always useful as scouts for these corsairs who prey +on the rich. Yet so adroitly had everything been done in these cases +that not a clue seemed to have been left behind by which to trace the +thief. + +We returned to Verplanck’s in the _Streamline_ in record time, dined, +and then found McNeill, a local detective, waiting to add his quota of +information. McNeill was of the square-toed, double-chinned, +bull-necked variety, just the man to take along if there was any +fighting. He had, however, very little to add to the solution of the +mystery, apparently believing in the chauffeur-and-maid theory. + +It was too late to do anything more that night, and we sat on the +Verplanck porch, overlooking the beautiful harbor. It was a black, inky +night, with no moon, one of those nights when the myriad lights on the +boats were mere points in the darkness. As we looked out over the +water, considering the case which as yet we had hardly started on, +Kennedy seemed engrossed in the study in black. + +“I thought I saw a moving light for an instant across the bay, above +the boats, and as though it were in the darkness of the hills on the +other side. Is there a road over there, above the Carter house?” he +asked suddenly. + +“There is a road part of the way on the crest of the hill,” replied +Mrs. Verplanck. “You can see a car on it, now and then, through the +trees, like a moving light.” + +“Over there, I mean,” reiterated Kennedy, indicating the light as it +flashed now faintly, then disappeared, to reappear further along, like +a gigantic firefly in the night. + +“N-no,” said Verplanck. “I don’t think the road runs down as far as +that. It is further up the bay.” + +“What is it then?” asked Kennedy, half to himself. “It seems to be +traveling rapidly. Now it must be about opposite the Carter house. +There—it has gone.” + +We continued to watch for several minutes, but it did not reappear. +Could it have been a light on the mast of a boat moving rapidly up the +bay and perhaps nearer to us than we suspected? Nothing further +happened, however, and we retired early, expecting to start with fresh +minds on the case in the morning. Several watchmen whom Verplanck +employed both on the shore and along the driveways were left guarding +every possible entrance to the estate. + +Yet the next morning as we met in the cheery east breakfast room, +Verplanck’s gardener came in, hat in hand, with much suppressed +excitement. + +In his hand he held an orange which he had found in the shrubbery +underneath the windows of the house. In it was stuck a long nail and to +the nail was fastened a tag. + +Kennedy read it quickly. + +“If this had been a bomb, you and your detectives would never have +known what struck you. + + +“AQUAERO.” + + + + +CHAPTER V +THE ULTRA-VIOLET RAY + + +“Good Gad, man!” exclaimed Verplanck, who had read it over Craig’s +shoulder. “What do you make of _that?_” + +Kennedy merely shook his head. Mrs. Verplanck was the calmest of all. + +“The light,” I cried. “You remember the light? Could it have been a +signal to some one on this side of the bay, a signal light in the +woods?” + +“Possibly,” commented Kennedy absently, adding, “Robbery with this +fellow seems to be an art as carefully strategized as a promoter’s plan +or a merchant’s trade campaign. I think I’ll run over this morning and +see if there is any trace of anything on the Carter estate.” + +Just then the telephone rang insistently. It was McNeill, much excited, +though he had not heard of the orange incident. Verplanck answered the +call. + +“Have you heard the news?” asked McNeill. “They report this morning +that that fellow must have turned up last night at Belle Aire.” + +“Belle Aire? Why, man, that’s fifty miles away and on the other side of +the island. He was here last night,” and Verplanck related briefly the +find of the morning. “No boat could get around the island in that time +and as for a car—those roads are almost impossible at night.” + +“Can’t help it,” returned McNeill doggedly. “The Halstead estate out at +Belle Aire was robbed last night. It’s spooky all right.” + +“Tell McNeill I want to see him—will meet him in the village directly,” +cut in Craig before Verplanck had finished. + +We bolted a hasty breakfast and in one of Verplanck’s cars hurried to +meet McNeill. + +“What do you intend doing?” he asked helplessly, as Kennedy finished +his recital of the queer doings of the night before. + +“I’m going out now to look around the Carter place. Can you come +along?” + +“Surely,” agreed McNeill, climbing into the car. “You know him?” + +“No.” + +“Then I’ll introduce you. Queer chap, Carter. He’s a lawyer, although I +don’t think he has much practice, except managing his mother’s estate.” + +McNeill settled back in the luxurious car with an exclamation of +satisfaction. + +“What do you think of Verplanck?” he asked. + +“He seems to me to be a very public-spirited man,” answered Kennedy +discreetly. + +That, however, was not what McNeill meant and he ignored it. And so for +the next ten minutes we were entertained with a little retail scandal +of Westport and Bluffwood, including a tale that seemed to have gained +currency that Verplanck and Mrs. Hollingsworth were too friendly to +please Mrs. Verplanck. I set the whole thing down to the hostility and +jealousy of the towns people who misinterpret everything possible in +the smart set, although I could not help recalling how quickly she had +spoken when we had visited the Hollingsworth house in the _Streamline_ +the day before. + +Montgomery Carter happened to be at home and, at least openly, +interposed no objection to our going about the grounds. + +“You see,” explained Kennedy, watching the effect of his words as if to +note whether Carter himself had noticed anything unusual the night +before, “we saw a light moving over here last night. To tell the truth, +I half expected you would have a story to add to ours, of a second +visit.” + +Carter smiled. “No objection at all. I’m simply nonplussed at the nerve +of this fellow, coming back again. I guess you’ve heard what a narrow +squeak he had with me. You’re welcome to go anywhere, just so long as +you don’t disturb my study down there in the boathouse. I use that +because it overlooks the bay—just the place to study over knotty legal +problems.” + +Back of, or in front of the Carter house, according as you fancied it +faced the bay or not, was the boathouse, built by Carter’s father, who +had been a great yachtsman in his day and commodore of the club. His +son had not gone in much for water sports and had converted the corner +underneath a sort of observation tower into a sort of country law +office. + +“There has always seemed to me to be something strange about that +boathouse since the old man died,” remarked McNeill in a half whisper +as we left Carter. “He always keeps it locked and never lets anyone go +in there, although they say he has it fitted beautifully with hundreds +of volumes of law books, too.” + +Kennedy had been climbing the hill back of the house and now paused to +look about. Below was the Carter garage. + +“By the way,” exclaimed McNeill, as if he had at last hit on a great +discovery, “Carter has a new chauffeur, a fellow named Wickham. I just +saw him driving down to the village. He’s a chap that it might pay us +to watch—a newcomer, smart as a steel trap, they say, but not much of a +talker.” + +“Suppose you take that job—watch him,” encouraged Kennedy. “We can’t +know too much about strangers here, McNeill.” + +“That’s right,” agreed the detective. “I’ll follow him back to the +village and get a line on him.” + +“Don’t be easily discouraged,” added Kennedy, as McNeill started down +the hill to the garage. “If he is a fox he’ll try to throw you off the +trail. Hang on.” + +“What was that for?” I asked as the detective disappeared. “Did you +want to get rid of him?” + +“Partly,” replied Craig, descending slowly, after a long survey of the +surrounding country. + +We had reached the garage, deserted now except for our own car. + +“I’d like to investigate that tower,” remarked Kennedy with a keen look +at me, “if it could be done without seeming to violate Mr. Carter’s +hospitality.” + +“Well,” I observed, my eye catching a ladder beside the garage, +“there’s a ladder. We can do no more than try.” + +He walked over to the automobile, took a little package out, slipped it +into his pocket, and a few minutes later we had set the ladder up +against the side of the boathouse farthest away from the house. It was +the work of only a moment for Kennedy to scale it and prowl across the +roof to the tower, while I stood guard at the foot. + +“No one has been up there recently,” he panted breathlessly as he +rejoined me. “There isn’t a sign.” + +We took the ladder quietly back to the garage, then Kennedy led the way +down the shore to a sort of little summerhouse cut off from the +boathouse and garage by the trees, though over the top of a hedge one +could still see the boathouse tower. + +We sat down, and Craig filled his lungs with the good salt air, +sweeping his eye about the blue and green panorama as though this were +a holiday and not a mystery case. + +“Walter,” he said at length, “I wish you’d take the car and go around +to Verplanck’s. I don’t think you can see the tower through the trees, +but I should like to be sure.” + +I found that it could not be seen, though I tried all over the place +and got myself disliked by the gardener and suspected by a watchman +with a dog. + +It could not have been from the tower of the boathouse that we had seen +the light, and I hurried back to Craig to tell him so. But when I +returned, I found that he was impatiently pacing the little rustic +summerhouse, no longer interested in what he had sent me to find out. + +“What has happened?” I asked eagerly. + +“Just come out here and I’ll show you something,” he replied, leaving +the summerhouse and approaching the boathouse from the other side of +the hedge, on the beach, so that the house itself cut us off from +observation from Carter’s. + +“I fixed a lens on the top of that tower when I was up there,” he +explained, pointing up at it. “It must be about fifty feet high. From +there, you see, it throws a reflection down to this mirror. I did it +because through a skylight in the tower I could read whatever was +written by anyone sitting at Carter’s desk in the corner under it.” + +“Read?” I repeated, mystified. + +“Yes, by invisible light,” he continued. “This invisible light +business, you know, is pretty well understood by this time. I was only +repeating what was suggested once by Professor Wood of Johns Hopkins. +Practically all sources of light, you understand, give out more or less +ultraviolet light, which plays no part in vision whatever. The human +eye is sensitive to but few of the light rays that reach it, and if our +eyes were constituted just the least bit differently we should have an +entirely different set of images. + +“But by the use of various devices we can, as it were, translate these +ultraviolet rays into terms of what the human eye can see. In order to +do it, all the visible light rays which show us the thing as we see +it—the tree green, the sky blue—must be cut off. So in taking an +ultraviolet photograph a screen must be used which will be opaque to +these visible rays and yet will let the ultraviolet rays through to +form the image. That gave Professor Wood a lot of trouble. Glass won’t +do, for glass cuts off the ultraviolet rays entirely. Quartz is a very +good medium, but it does not cut off all the visible light. In fact +there is only one thing that will do the work, and that is metallic +silver.” + +I could not fathom what he was driving at, but the fascination of +Kennedy himself was quite sufficient. + +“Silver,” he went on, “is all right if the objects can be illuminated +by an electric spark or some other source rich in the rays. But it +isn’t entirely satisfactory when sunlight is concerned, for various +reasons that I need not bore you with. Professor Wood has worked out a +process of depositing nickel on glass. That’s it up there,” he +concluded, wheeling a lower reflector about until it caught the image +of the afternoon sun thrown from the lens on the top of the tower. + +“You see,” he resumed, “that upper lens is concave so that it enlarges +tremendously. I can do some wonderful tricks with that.” + +I had been lighting a cigarette and held a box of safety wind matches +in my hand. + +“Give me that matchbox,” he asked. + +He placed it at the foot of the tower. Then he went off, I should say, +without exaggeration, a hundred feet. + +The lettering on the matchbox could be seen in the silvered mirror, +enlarged to such a point that the letters were plainly visible! + +“Think of the possibilities in that,” he added excitedly. “I saw them +at once. You can read what some one is writing at a desk a hundred, +perhaps two hundred feet away.” + +“Yes,” I cried, more interested in the practical aspects of it than in +the mechanics and optics. “What have you found?” + +“Some one came into the boathouse while you were away,” he said. “He +had a note. It read, ‘Those new detectives are watching everything. We +must have the evidence. You must get those letters to-night, without +fail.’” + +“Letters—evidence,” I repeated. “Who wrote it? Who received it?” + +“I couldn’t see over the hedge who had entered the boathouse, and by +the time I got around here he was gone.” + +“Was it Wickham—or intended for Wickham?” I asked. + +Kennedy shrugged his shoulders. + +“We’ll gain nothing by staying here,” he said. “There is just one +possibility in the case, and I can guard against that only by returning +to Verplanck’s and getting some of that stuff I brought up here with +me. Let us go.” + +Late in the afternoon though it was, after our return, Kennedy insisted +on hurrying from Verplanck’s to the Yacht Club up the bay. It was a +large building, extending out into the water on made land, from which +ran a long, substantial dock. He had stopped long enough only to ask +Verplanck to lend him the services of his best mechanician, a Frenchman +named Armand. + +On the end of the yacht club dock Kennedy and Armand set up a large +affair which looked like a mortar. I watched curiously, dividing my +attention between them and the splendid view of the harbor which the +end of the dock commanded on all sides. + +“What is this?” I asked finally. “Fireworks?” + +“A rocket mortar of light weight,” explained Kennedy, then dropped into +French as he explained to Armand the manipulation of the thing. + +There was a searchlight near by on the dock. + +“You can use that?” queried Kennedy. + +“Oh, yes. Mr. Verplanck, he is vice-commodore of the club. Oh, yes, I +can use that. Why, Monsieur?” + +Kennedy had uncovered a round brass case. It did not seem to amount to +much, as compared to some of the complicated apparatus he had used. In +it was a four-sided prism of glass—I should have said, cut off the +corner of a huge glass cube. + +He handed it to us. + +“Look in it,” he said. + +It certainly was about the most curious piece of crystal gazing I had +ever done. Turn the thing any way I pleased and I could see my face in +it, just as in an ordinary mirror. + +“What do you call it?” Armand asked, much interested. + +“A triple mirror,” replied Kennedy, and again, half in English and half +in French, neither of which I could follow, he explained the use of the +mirror to the mechanician. + +We were returning up the dock, leaving Armand with instructions to be +at the club at dusk, when we met McNeill, tired and disgusted. + +“What luck?” asked Kennedy. + +“Nothing,” he returned. “I had a ‘short’ shadow and a ‘long’ shadow at +Wickham’s heels all day. You know what I mean. Instead of one man, +two—the second sleuthing in the other’s tracks. If he escaped Number +One, Number Two would take it up, and I was ready to move up into +Number Two’s place. They kept him in sight about all the time. Not a +fact. But then, of course, we don’t know what he was doing before we +took up tailing him. Say,” he added, “I have just got word from an +agency with which I correspond in New York that it is reported that a +yeggman named ‘Australia Mac,’ a very daring and clever chap, has been +attempting to dispose of some of the goods which we know have been +stolen through one of the worst ‘fences’ in New York.” + +“Is that all?” asked Craig, with the mention of Australia Mac showing +the first real interest yet in anything that McNeill had done since we +met him the night before. + +“All so far. I wired for more details immediately.” + +“Do you know anything about this Australia Mac?” + +“Not much. No one does. He’s a new man, it seems, to the police here.” + +“Be here at eight o’clock, McNeill,” said Craig, as we left the club +for Verplanck’s. “If you can find out more about this yeggman, so much +the better.” + +“Have you made any progress?” asked Verplanck as we entered the estate +a few minutes later. + +“Yes,” returned Craig, telling only enough to whet his interest. +“There’s a clue, as I half expected, from New York, too. But we are so +far away that we’ll have to stick to my original plan. You can trust +Armand?” + +“Absolutely.” + +“Then we shall transfer our activity to the Yacht Club to-night,” was +all that Kennedy vouchsafed. + + + + +CHAPTER VI +THE TRIPLE MIRROR + + +It was the regular Saturday night dance at the club, a brilliant +spectacle, faces that radiated pleasure, gowns that for startling +combinations of color would have shamed a Futurist, music that set the +feet tapping irresistibly—a scene which I shall pass over because it +really has no part in the story. + +The fascination of the ballroom was utterly lost on Craig. “Think of +all the houses only half guarded about here to-night,” he mused, as we +joined Armand and McNeill on the end of the dock. I could not help +noting that that was the only idea which the gay, variegated, sparkling +tango throng conveyed to him. + +In front of the club was strung out a long line of cars, and at the +dock several speed boats of national and international reputation, +among them the famous _Streamline II_, at our instant beck and call. In +it Craig had already placed some rather bulky pieces of apparatus, as +well as a brass case containing a second triple mirror like that which +he had left with Armand. + +With McNeill, I walked back along the pier, leaving Kennedy with +Armand, until we came to the wide porch, where we joined the +wallflowers and the rocking-chair fleet. Mrs. Verplanck, I observed, +was a beautiful dancer. I picked her out in the throng immediately, +dancing with Carter. + +McNeill tugged at my sleeve. Without a word I saw what he meant me to +see. Verplanck and Mrs. Hollingsworth were dancing together. Just then, +across the porch I caught sight of Kennedy at one of the wide windows. +He was trying to attract Verplanck’s attention, and as he did so I +worked my way through the throng of chatting couples leaving the floor +until I reached him. Verplanck, oblivious, finished the dance; then, +seeming to recollect that he had something to attend to, caught sight +of us, and ran off during the intermission from the gay crowd to which +he resigned Mrs. Hollingsworth. + +“What is it?” he asked. + +“There’s that light down the bay,” whispered Kennedy. + +Instantly Verplanck forgot about the dance. + +“Where?” he asked. + +“In the same place.” + +I had not noticed, but Mrs. Verplanck, woman-like, had been able to +watch several things at once. She had seen us and had joined us. + +“Would you like to run down there in the _Streamline?_” he asked. “It +will only take a few minutes.” + +“Very much.” + +“What is it—that light again?” she asked, as she joined us in walking +down the dock. + +“Yes,” answered her husband, pausing to look for a moment at the stuff +Kennedy had left with Armand. Mrs. Verplanck leaned over the +_Streamline_, turned as she saw me, and said: “I wish I could go with +you. But evening dress is not the thing for a shivery night in a speed +boat. I think I know as much about it as Mr. Verplanck. Are you going +to leave Armand?” + +“Yes,” replied Kennedy, taking his place beside Verplanck, who was +seated at the steering wheel. “Walter and McNeill, if you two will sit +back there, we’re ready. All right.” + +Armand had cast us off and Mrs. Verplanck waved from the end of the +float as the _Streamline_ quickly shot out into the night, a buzzing, +throbbing shape of mahogany and brass, with her exhausts sticking out +like funnels and booming like a pipe organ. It took her only seconds to +eat into the miles. + +“A little more to port,” said Kennedy, as Verplanck swung her around. + +Just then the steady droning of the engine seemed a bit less +rhythmical. Verplanck throttled her down, but it had no effect. He shut +her off. Something was wrong. As he crawled out into the space forward +of us where the engine was, it seemed as if the _Streamline_ had broken +down suddenly and completely. + +Here we were floundering around in the middle of the bay. + +“Chuck-chuck-chuck,” came in quick staccato out of the night. It was +Montgomery Carter, alone, on his way across the bay from the club, in +his own boat. + +“Hello—Carter,” called Verplanck. + +“Hello, Verplanck. What’s the matter?” + +“Don’t know. Engine trouble of some kind. Can you give us a line?” + +“I’ve got to go down to the house,” he said, ranging up near us. “Then +I can take you back. Perhaps I’d better get you out of the way of any +other boats first. You don’t mind going over and then back?” + +Verplanck looked at Craig. “On the contrary,” muttered Craig, as he +made fast the welcome line. + +The Carter dock was some three miles from the club on the other side of +the bay. As we came up to it, Carter shut off his engine, bent over it +a moment, made fast, and left us with a hurried, “Wait here.” + +Suddenly, overhead, we heard a peculiar whirring noise that seemed to +vibrate through the air. Something huge, black, monster-like, slid down +a board runway into the water, traveled a few feet, in white suds and +spray, rose in the darkness—and was gone! + +As the thing disappeared, I thought I could hear a mocking laugh flung +back at us. + +“What is it?” I asked, straining my eyes at what had seemed for an +instant like a great flying fish with finny tail and huge fins at the +sides and above. + +“‘Aquaero,’” quoted Kennedy quickly. “Don’t you understand—a +hydroaeroplane—a flying boat. There are hundreds of privately owned +flying boats now wherever there is navigable water. That was the secret +of Carter’s boathouse, of the light we saw in the air.” + +“But this Aquaero—who is he?” persisted McNeill. +“Carter—Wickham—Australia Mac?” + +We looked at each other blankly. No one said a word. We were captured, +just as effectively as if we were ironed in a dungeon. There were the +black water, the distant lights, which at any other time I should have +said would have been beautiful. + +Kennedy had sprung into Carter’s boat. + +“The deuce,” he exclaimed. “He’s put her out of business.” + +Verplanck, chagrined, had been going over his own engine feverishly. +“Do you see that?” he asked suddenly, holding up in the light of a +lantern a little nut which he had picked out of the complicated +machinery. “It never belonged to this engine. Some one placed it there, +knowing it would work its way into a vital part with the vibration.” + +Who was the person, the only one who could have done it? The answer was +on my lips, but I repressed it. Mrs. Verplanck herself had been bending +over the engine when last I saw her. All at once it flashed over me +that she knew more about the phantom bandit than she had admitted. Yet +what possible object could she have had in putting the _Streamline_ out +of commission? + +My mind was working rapidly, piecing together the fragmentary facts. +The remark of Kennedy, long before, instantly assumed new significance. +What were the possibilities of blackmail in the right sort of evidence? +The yeggman had been after what was more valuable than jewels—letters! +Whose? Suddenly I saw the situation. Carter had not been robbed at all. +He was in league with the robber. That much was a blind to divert +suspicion. He was a lawyer—some one’s lawyer. I recalled the message +about letters and evidence, and as I did so there came to mind a +picture of Carter and the woman he had been dancing with. In return for +his inside information about the jewels of the wealthy homes of +Bluffwood, the yeggman was to get something of interest and importance +to his client. + +The situation called for instant action. Yet what could we do, marooned +on the other side of the bay? + +From the Club dock a long finger of light swept out into the night, +plainly enough near the dock, but diffused and disclosing nothing in +the distance. Armand had trained it down the bay in the direction we +had taken, but by the time the beam reached us it was so weak that it +was lost. + +Craig had leaped up on the Carter dock and was capping and uncapping +with the brass cover the package which contained the triple mirror. + +Still in the distance I could see the wide path of light, aimed toward +us, but of no avail. + +“What are you doing?” I asked. + +“Using the triple mirror to signal to Armand. It is something better +than wireless. Wireless requires heavy and complicated apparatus. This +is portable, heatless, almost weightless, a source of light depending +for its power on another source of light at a great distance.” + +I wondered how Armand could ever detect its feeble ray. + +“Even in the case of a rolling ship,” Kennedy continued, alternately +covering and uncovering the mirror, “the beam of light which this +mirror reflects always goes back, unerring, to its source. It would do +so from an aeroplane, so high in the air that it could not be located. +The returning beam is invisible to anyone not immediately in the path +of the ray, and the ray always goes to the observer. It is simply a +matter of pure mathematics practically applied. The angle of incidence +equals the angle of reflection. There is not a variation of a foot in +two miles.” + +“What message are you sending him?” asked Verplanck. + +“To tell Mrs. Hollingsworth to hurry home immediately,” Kennedy +replied, still flashing the letters according to his code. + +“Mrs. Hollingsworth?” repeated Verplanck, looking up. + +“Yes. This hydroaeroplane yeggman is after something besides jewels +to-night. Were those letters that were stolen from you the only ones +you had in the safe?” + +Verplanck looked up quickly. “Yes, yes. Of course.” + +“You had none from a woman—” + +“No,” he almost shouted. Of a sudden it seemed to dawn on him what +Kennedy was driving at—the robbery of his own house with no loss except +of a packet of letters on business, followed by the attempt on Mrs. +Hollingsworth. “Do you think I’d keep dynamite, even in the safe?” + +To hide his confusion he had turned and was bending again over the +engine. + +“How is it?” asked Kennedy, his signaling over. + +“Able to run on four cylinders and one propeller,” replied Verplanck. + +“Then let’s try her. Watch the engine. I’ll take the wheel.” + +Limping along, the engine skipping and missing, the once peerless +_Streamline_ started back across the bay. Instead of heading toward the +club, Kennedy pointed her bow somewhere between that and Verplanck’s. + +“I wish Armand would get busy,” he remarked, after glancing now and +then in the direction of the club. “What can be the matter?” + +“What do you mean?” I asked. + +There came the boom as if of a gun far away in the direction in which +he was looking, then another. + +“Oh, there it is. Good fellow. I suppose he had to deliver my message +to Mrs. Hollingsworth himself first.” + +From every quarter showed huge balls of fire, rising from the sea, as +it were, with a brilliantly luminous flame. + +“What is it?” I asked, somewhat startled. + +“A German invention for use at night against torpedo and aeroplane +attacks. From that mortar Armand has shot half a dozen bombs of +phosphide of calcium which are hurled far into the darkness. They are +so constructed that they float after a short plunge and are ignited on +contact by the action of the salt water itself.” + +It was a beautiful pyrotechnic display, lighting up the shore and hills +of the bay as if by an unearthly flare. + +“There’s that thing now!” exclaimed Kennedy. + +In the glow we could see a peculiar, birdlike figure flying through the +air over toward the Hollingsworth house. It was the hydroaeroplane. + +Out from the little stretch of lawn under the accentuated shadow of the +trees, she streaked into the air, swaying from side to side as the +pilot operated the stabilizers on the ends of the planes to counteract +the puffs of wind off the land. + +How could she ever be stopped? + +The _Streamline_, halting and limping, though she was, had almost +crossed the bay before the light bombs had been fired by Armand. Every +moment brought the flying boat nearer. + +She swerved. Evidently the pilot had seen us at last and realized who +we were. I was so engrossed watching the thing that I had not noticed +that Kennedy had given the wheel to Verplanck and was standing in the +bow, endeavoring to sight what looked like a huge gun. + +In rapid succession half a dozen shots rang out. I fancied I could +almost hear the ripping and tearing of the tough rubber-coated silken +wings of the hydroaeroplane as the wind widened the perforation the gun +had made. + +She had not been flying high, but now she swooped down almost like a +gull, seeking to rest on the water. We were headed toward her now, and +as the flying boat sank I saw one of the passengers rise in his seat, +swing his arm, and far out something splashed in the bay. + +On the water, with wings helpless, the flying boat was no match for the +_Streamline_ now. She struck at an acute angle, rebounded in the air +for a moment, and with a hiss skittered along over the waves, planing +with the help of her exhaust under the step of the boat. + +There she was, a hull, narrow, scow-bowed, like a hydroplane, with a +long pointed stern and a cockpit for two men, near the bow. There were +two wide, winglike planes, on a light latticework of wood covered with +silk, trussed and wired like a kite frame, the upper plane about five +feet above the lower, which was level with the boat deck. We could see +the eight-cylindered engine which drove a two-bladed wooden propeller, +and over the stern were the air rudder and the horizontal planes. There +she was, the hobbled steed now of the phantom bandit who had +accomplished the seemingly impossible. + +In spite of everything, however, the flying boat reached the shore a +trifle ahead of us. As she did so both figures in her jumped, and one +disappeared quickly up the bank, leaving the other alone. + +“Verplanck, McNeill—get him,” cried Kennedy, as our own boat grated on +the beach. “Come, Walter, we’ll take the other one.” + +The man had seen that there was no safety in flight. Down the shore he +stood, without a hat, his hair blown pompadour by the wind. + +As we approached Carter turned superciliously, unbuttoning his bulky +khaki life preserver jacket. + +“Well?” he asked coolly. + +Not for a moment did Kennedy allow the assumed coolness to take him +back, knowing that Carter’s delay did not cover the retreat of the +other man. + +“So,” Craig exclaimed, “you are the—the air pirate?” + +Carter disdained to reply. + +“It was you who suggested the millionaire households, full of jewels, +silver and gold, only half guarded; you, who knew the habits of the +people; you, who traded that information in return for another piece of +thievery by your partner, Australia Mac—Wickham he called himself here +in Bluffwood. It was you—-” + +A car drove up hastily, and I noted that we were still on the +Hollingsworth estate. Mrs. Hollingsworth had seen us and had driven +over toward us. + +“Montgomery!” she cried, startled. + +“Yes,” said Kennedy quickly, “air pirate and lawyer for Mrs. Verplanck +in the suit which she contemplated bringing—” + +Mrs. Hollingsworth grew pale under the ghastly, flickering light from +the bay. + +“Oh!” she cried, realizing at what Kennedy hinted, “the letters!” + +“At the bottom of the harbor, now,” said Kennedy. “Mr. Verplanck tells +me he has destroyed his. The past is blotted out as far as that is +concerned. The future is—for you three to determine. For the present +I’ve caught a yeggman and a blackmailer.” + + + + +CHAPTER VII +THE WIRELESS WIRETAPPERS + + +Kennedy did not wait at Bluffwood longer than was necessary. It was +easy enough now to silence Montgomery Carter, and the reconciliation of +the Verplancks was assured. In the _Star_ I made the case appear at the +time to involve merely the capture of Australia Mac. + +When I dropped into the office the next day as usual, I found that I +had another assignment that would take me out on Long Island. The story +looked promising and I was rather pleased to get it. + +“Bound for Seaville, I’ll wager,” sounded a familiar voice in my ear, +as I hurried up to the train entrance at the Long Island corner of the +Pennsylvania Station. + +I turned quickly, to find Kennedy just behind me, breathless and +perspiring. + +“Er—yes,” I stammered in surprise at seeing him so unexpectedly, “but +where did you come from? How did you know?” + +“Let me introduce Mr. Jack Waldon,” he went on, as we edged our way +toward the gate, “the brother of Mrs. Tracy Edwards, who disappeared so +strangely from the houseboat _Lucie_ last night at Seaville. That is +the case you’re going to write up, isn’t it?” + +It was then for the first time that I noticed the excited young man +beside Kennedy was really his companion. + +I shook hands with Waldon, who gave me a grip that was both a greeting +and an added impulse in our general direction through the wicket. + +“Might have known the _Star_ would assign you to this Edwards case,” +panted Kennedy, mopping his forehead, for the heat in the terminal was +oppressive and the crowd, though not large, was closely packed. “Mr. +Jameson is my right-hand man,” he explained to Waldon, taking us each +by the arm and urging us forward. “Waldon was afraid we might miss the +train or I should have tried to get you, Walter, at the office.” + +It was all done so suddenly that they quite took away what remaining +breath I had, as we settled ourselves to swelter in the smoker instead +of in the concourse. I did not even protest at the matter-of-fact +assurance with which Craig assumed that his deduction as to my +destination was correct. + +Waldon, a handsome young fellow in a flannel suit and yachting cap +somewhat the worse for his evidently perturbed state of mind, seemed to +eye me for the moment doubtfully, in spite of Kennedy’s cordial +greeting. + +“I’ve had all the first editions of the evening papers,” I hinted as we +sped through the tunnel, “but the stories seemed to be quite the +same—pretty meager in details.” + +“Yes,” returned Waldon with a glance at Kennedy, “I tried to keep as +much out of the papers as I could just now for Lucie’s sake.” + +“You needn’t fear Jameson,” remarked Kennedy. + +He fumbled in his pocket, then paused a moment and shot a glance of +inquiry at Waldon, who nodded a mute acquiescence to him. + +“There seem to have been a number of very peculiar disappearances +lately,” resumed Kennedy, “but this case of Mrs. Edwards is by far the +most extraordinary. Of course the _Star_ hasn’t had that—yet,” he +concluded, handing me a sheet of notepaper. + +“Mr. Waldon didn’t give it out, hoping to avoid scandal.” + +I took the paper and read eagerly, in a woman’s hand: + +“MY DEAR MISS FOX: I have been down here at Seaville on our houseboat, +the _Lucie_, for several days for a purpose which now is accomplished. + +“Already I had my suspicions of you, from a source which I need not +name. Therefore, when the _Kronprinz_ got into wireless communication +with the station at Seaville I determined through our own wireless on +the _Lucie_ to overhear whether there would be any exchange of messages +between my husband and yourself. + +“I was able to overhear the whole thing and I want you to know that +your secret is no longer a secret from me, and that I have already told +Mr. Edwards that I know it. You ruin his life by your intimacy which +you seem to want to keep up, although you know you have no right to do +it, but you shall not ruin mine. + +“I am thoroughly disillusioned now. I have not decided on what steps to +take, but—” + +Only a casual glance was necessary to show me that the writing seemed +to grow more and more weak as it progressed, and the note stopped +abruptly, as if the writer had been suddenly interrupted or some new +idea had occurred to her. + +Hastily I tried to figure it out. Lucie Waldon, as everybody knew, was +a famous beauty, a marvel of charm and daintiness, slender, with big, +soulful, wistful eyes. Her marriage to Tracy Edwards, the wealthy +plunger and stockbroker, had been a great social event the year before, +and it was reputed at the time that Edwards had showered her with +jewels and dresses to the wonder and talk even of society. + +As for Valerie Fox, I knew she had won quick recognition and even fame +as a dancer in New York during the previous winter, and I recalled +reading three or four days before that she had just returned on the +_Kronprinz_ from a trip abroad. + +“I don’t suppose you have had time to see Miss Fox,” I remarked. “Where +is she?” + +“At Beach Park now, I think,” replied Waldon, “a resort a few miles +nearer the city on the south shore, where there is a large colony of +actors.” + +I handed back the letter to Kennedy. + +“What do you make of it?” he asked, as he folded it up and put it back +into his pocket. + +“I hardly know what to say,” I replied. “Of course there have been +rumors, I believe, that all was not exactly like a honeymoon still with +the Tracy Edwardses.” + +“Yes,” returned Waldon slowly, “I know myself that there has been some +trouble, but nothing definite until I found this letter last night in +my sister’s room. She never said anything about it either to mother or +myself. They haven’t been much together during the summer, and last +night when she disappeared Tracy was in the city. But I hadn’t thought +much about it before, for, of course, you know he has large financial +interests that make him keep in pretty close touch with New York and +this summer hasn’t been a particularly good one on the stock exchange.” + +“And,” I put in, “a plunger doesn’t always make the best of husbands. +Perhaps there is temperament to be reckoned with here.” + +“There seem to be a good many things to be reckoned with,” Craig +considered. “For example, here’s a houseboat, the _Lucie_, a palatial +affair, cruising about aimlessly, with a beautiful woman on it. She +gives a little party, in the absence of her husband, to her brother, +his fiancée and her mother, who visit her from his yacht, the +_Nautilus_. They break up, those living on the _Lucie_ going to their +rooms and the rest back to the yacht, which is anchored out further in +the deeper water of the bay. + +“Some time in the middle of the night her maid, Juanita, finds that she +is not in her room. Her brother is summoned back from his yacht and +finds that she has left this pathetic, unfinished letter. But otherwise +there is no trace of her. Her husband is notified and hurries out +there, but he can find no clue. Meanwhile, Mr. Waldon, in despair, +hurries down to the city to engage me quietly.” + +“You remember I told you,” suggested Waldon, “that my sister hadn’t +been feeling well for several days. In fact it seemed that the sea air +wasn’t doing her much good, and some one last night suggested that she +try the mountains.” + +“Had there been anything that would foreshadow the—er—disappearance?” +asked Kennedy. + +“Only as I say, that for two or three days she seemed to be listless, +to be sinking by slow and easy stages into a sort of vacant, moody +state of ill health.” + +“She had a doctor, I suppose?” I asked. + +“Yes, Dr. Jermyn, Tracy’s own personal physician came down from the +city several days ago.” + +“What did he say?” + +“He simply said that it was congestion of the lungs. As far as he could +see there was no apparent cause for it. I don’t think he was very +enthusiastic about the mountain air idea. The fact is he was like a +good many doctors under the circumstances, noncommittal—wanted her +under observation, and all that sort of thing.” + +“What’s your opinion?” I pressed Craig. “Do you think she has run +away?” + +“Naturally, I’d rather not attempt to say yet,” Craig replied +cautiously. “But there are several possibilities. Yes, she might have +left the houseboat in some other boat, of course. Then there is the +possibility of accident. It was a hot night. She might have been +leaning from the window and have lost her balance. I have even thought +of drugs, that she might have taken something in her despondency and +have fallen overboard while under the influence of it. Then, of course, +there are the two deductions that everyone has made already—either +suicide or murder.” + +Waldon had evidently been turning something over in his mind. + +“There was a wireless outfit aboard the houseboat,” he ventured at +length. + +“What of that?” I asked, wondering why he was changing the subject so +abruptly. + +“Why, only this,” he replied. “I have been reading about wireless a +good deal lately, and if the theories of some scientists are correct, +the wireless age is not without its dangers as well as its wonders. I +recall reading not long ago of a German professor who says there is no +essential difference between wireless waves and the X-rays, and we know +the terrible physical effects of X-rays. I believe he estimated that +only one three hundred millionth part of the electrical energy +generated by sending a message from one station to another near by is +actually used up in transmitting the message. The rest is dispersed in +the atmosphere. There must be a good deal of such stray electrical +energy about Seaville. Isn’t it possible that it might hit some one +somewhere who was susceptible?” + +Kennedy said nothing. Waldon’s was at least a novel idea, whether it +was plausible or not. The only way to test it out, as far as I could +determine, was to see whether it fitted with the facts after a careful +investigation of the case itself. + +It was still early in the day and the trains were not as crowded as +they would be later. Consequently our journey was comfortable enough +and we found ourselves at last at the little vine-covered station at +Seaville. + +One could almost feel that the gay summer colony was in a state of +subdued excitement. As we left the quaint station and walked down the +main street to the town wharf where we expected some one would be +waiting for us, it seemed as if the mysterious disappearance of the +beautiful Mrs. Edwards had put a damper on the life of the place. In +the hotels there were knots of people evidently discussing the affair, +for as we passed we could tell by their faces that they recognized us. +One or two bowed and would have joined us, if Waldon had given any +encouragement. But he did not stop, and we kept on down the street +quickly. + +I myself began to feel the spell of mystery about the case as I had not +felt it among the distractions of the city. Perhaps I imagined it, but +there even seemed to be something strange about the houseboat which we +could descry at anchor far down the bay as we approached the wharf. + +We were met, as Waldon had arranged, by a high-powered runabout, the +tender to his own yacht, a slim little craft of mahogany and brass, +driven like an automobile, and capable of perhaps twenty-five or thirty +miles an hour. We jumped in and were soon skimming over the waters of +the bay like a skipping stone. + +It was evident that Waldon was much relieved at having been able to +bring assistance, in which he had as much confidence as he reposed in +Kennedy. At any rate it was something to be nearing the scene of action +again. + +The _Lucie_ was perhaps seventy feet long and a most attractive craft, +with a hull yachty in appearance and of a type which could safely make +long runs along the coast, a stanch, seaworthy boat, of course without +the speed of the regularly designed yacht, but more than making up in +comfort for those on board what was lost in that way. Waldon pointed +out with obvious pride his own trim yacht swinging gracefully at anchor +a half mile or so away. + +As we approached the houseboat I looked her over carefully. One of the +first things I noticed was that there rose from the roof the primitive +inverted V aërial of a wireless telegraph. I thought immediately of the +unfinished letter and its contents, and shaded my eyes as I took a good +look at the powerful transatlantic station on the spit of sand perhaps +three or four miles distant, with its tall steel masts of the latest +inverted L type and the cluster of little houses below, in which the +operators and the plant were. + +Waldon noticed what I was looking at, and remarked, “It’s a wonderful +station—and well worth a visit, if you have the time—one of the most +powerful on the coast, I understand.” + +“How did the _Lucie_ come to be equipped with wireless?” asked Craig +quickly. “It’s a little unusual for a private boat.” + +“Mr. Edwards had it done when she was built,” explained Waldon. “His +idea was to use it to keep in touch with the stock market on trips.” + +“And it has proved effective?” asked Craig. + +“Oh, yes—that is, it was all right last winter when he went on a short +cruise down in Florida. This summer he hasn’t been on the boat long +enough to use it much.” + +“Who operates it?” + +“He used to hire a licensed operator, although I believe the engineer, +Pedersen, understands the thing pretty well and could use it if +necessary.” + +“Do you think it was Pedersen who used it for Mrs. Edwards?” asked +Kennedy. + +“I really don’t know,” confessed Waldon. “Pedersen denies absolutely +that he has touched the thing for weeks. I want you to quiz him. I +wasn’t able to get him to admit a thing.” + + + + +CHAPTER VIII +THE HOUSEBOAT MYSTERY + + +We had by this time swung around to the side of the houseboat. I +realized as we mounted the ladder that the marine gasoline engine had +materially changed the old-time houseboat from a mere scow or barge +with a low flat house on it, moored in a bay or river, and only with +difficulty and expense towed from one place to another. Now the +houseboat was really a fair-sized yacht. + +The _Lucie_ was built high in order to give plenty of accommodation for +the living quarters. The staterooms, dining rooms and saloon were +really rooms, with seven or eight feet of head room, and furnished just +as one would find in a tasteful and expensive house. + +Down in the hull, of course, was the gasoline motor which drove the +propeller, so that when the owner wanted a change of scene all that was +necessary was to get up anchor, start the motor and navigate the +yacht-houseboat to some other harbor. + +Edwards himself met us on the deck. He was a tall man, with a red face, +a man of action, of outdoor life, apparently a hard worker and a hard +player. It was quite evident that he had been waiting for the return of +Waldon anxiously. + +“You find us considerably upset, Professor Kennedy,” he greeted Craig, +as his brother-in-law introduced us. + +Edwards turned and led the way toward the saloon. As he entered and +bade us be seated in the costly cushioned wicker chairs I noticed how +sumptuously it was furnished, and particularly its mechanical piano, +its phonograph and the splendid hardwood floor which seemed to invite +one to dance in the cool breeze that floated across from one set of +open windows to the other. And yet in spite of everything, there was +that indefinable air of something lacking, as in a house from which the +woman is gone. + +“You were not here last night, I understand,” remarked Kennedy, taking +in the room at a glance. + +“Unfortunately, no,” replied Edwards, “Business has kept me with my +nose pretty close to the grindstone this summer. Waldon called me up in +the middle of the night, however, and I started down in my car, which +enabled me to get here before the first train. I haven’t been able to +do a thing since I got here except just wait—wait—wait. I confess that +I don’t know what else to do. Waldon seemed to think we ought to have +some one down here—and I guess he was right. Anyhow, I’m glad to see +you.” + +I watched Edwards keenly. For the first time I realized that I had +neglected to ask Waldon whether he had seen the unfinished letter. The +question was unnecessary. It was evident that he had not. + +“Let me see, Waldon, if I’ve got this thing straight,” Edwards went on, +pacing restlessly up and down the saloon. “Correct me if I haven’t. +Last night, as I understand it, there was a sort of little family party +here, you and Miss Verrall and your mother from the _Nautilus_, and +Mrs. Edwards and Dr. Jermyn.” + +“Yes,” replied Waldon with, I thought, a touch of defiance at the words +“family party.” He paused as if he would have added that the _Nautilus_ +would have been more congenial, anyhow, then added, “We danced a little +bit, all except Lucie. She said she wasn’t feeling any too well.” + +Edwards had paused by the door. “If you’ll excuse me a minute,” he +said, “I’ll call Jermyn and Mrs. Edwards’ maid, Juanita. You ought to +go over the whole thing immediately, Professor Kennedy.” + +“Why didn’t you say anything about the letter to him?” asked Kennedy +under his breath. + +“What was the use?” returned Waldon. “I didn’t know how he’d take it. +Besides, I wanted your advice on the whole thing. Do you want to show +it to him?” + +“Perhaps it’s just as well,” ruminated Kennedy. “It may be possible to +clear the thing up without involving anybody’s name. At any rate, some +one is coming down the passage this way.” + +Edwards entered with Dr. Jermyn, a clean-shaven man, youthful in +appearance, yet approaching middle age. I had heard of him before. He +had studied several years abroad and had gained considerable reputation +since his return to America. + +Dr. Jermyn shook hands with us cordially enough, made some passing +comment on the tragedy, and stood evidently waiting for us to disclose +our hands. + +“You have been Mrs. Edwards’ physician for some time, I believe?” +queried Kennedy, fencing for an opening. + +“Only since her marriage,” replied the doctor briefly. + +“She hadn’t been feeling well for several days, had she?” ventured +Kennedy again. + +“No,” replied Dr. Jermyn quickly. “I doubt whether I can add much to +what you already know. I suppose Mr. Waldon has told you about her +illness. The fact is, I suppose her maid Juanita will be able to tell +you really more than I can.” + +I could not help feeling that Dr. Jermyn showed a great deal of +reluctance in talking. + +“You have been with her several days, though, haven’t you?” + +“Four days, I think. She was complaining of feeling nervous and +telegraphed me to come down here. I came prepared to stay over night, +but Mr. Edwards happened to run down that day, too, and he asked me if +I wouldn’t remain longer. My practice in the summer is such that I can +easily leave it with my assistant in the city, so I agreed. Really, +that is about all I can say. I don’t know yet what was the matter with +Mrs. Edwards, aside from the nervousness which seemed to be of some +time standing.” + +He stood facing us, thoughtfully stroking his chin, as a very pretty +and petite maid nervously entered and stood facing us in the doorway. + +“Come in, Juanita,” encouraged Edwards. “I want you to tell these +gentlemen just what you told me about discovering that Madame had +gone—and anything else that you may recall now.” + +“It was Juanita who discovered that Madame was gone, you know,” put in +Waldon. + +“How did you discover it?” prompted Craig. + +“It was very hot,” replied the maid, “and often on hot nights I would +come in and fan Madame since she was so wakeful. Last night I went to +the door and knocked. There was no reply. I called to her, ‘Madame, +madame.’ Still there was no answer. The worst I supposed was that she +had fainted. I continued to call.” + +“The door was locked?” inquired Kennedy. + +“Yes, sir. My call aroused the others on the boat. Dr. Jermyn came and +he broke open the door with his shoulder. But the room was empty. +Madame was gone.” + +“How about the windows?” asked Kennedy. + +“Open. They were always open these nights. Sometimes Madame would sit +by the window when there was not much breeze.” + +“I should like to see the room,” remarked Craig, with an inquiring +glance at Edwards. + +“Certainly,” he answered, leading the way down a corridor. + +Mrs. Edwards’ room was on the starboard side, with wide windows instead +of portholes. It was furnished magnificently and there was little about +it that suggested the nautical, except the view from the window. + +“The bed had not been slept in,” Edwards remarked as we looked about +curiously. + +Kennedy walked over quickly to the wide series of windows before which +was a leather-cushioned window seat almost level with the window, +several feet above the level of the water. It was by this window, +evidently, that Juanita meant that Mrs. Edwards often sat. It was a +delightful position, but I could readily see that it would be +comparatively easy for anyone accidentally or purposely to fall. + +“I think myself,” Waldon remarked to Kennedy, “that it must have been +from the open window that she made her way to the outside. It seems +that all agree that the door was locked, while the window was wide +open.” + +“There had been no sound—no cry to alarm you?” shot out Kennedy +suddenly to Juanita. + +“No, sir, nothing. I could not sleep myself, and I thought of Madame.” + +“You heard nothing?” he asked of Dr. Jermyn. + +“Nothing until I heard the maid call,” he replied briefly. + +Mentally I ran over again Kennedy’s first list of possibilities—taken +off by another boat, accident, drugs, suicide, murder. + +Was there, I asked myself, sufficient reason for suicide? The letter +seemed to me to show too proud a spirit for that. In fact the last +sentence seemed to show that she was contemplating the surest method of +revenge, rather than surrender. As for accident, why should a person +fall overboard from a large houseboat into a perfectly calm harbor? +Then, too, there had been no outcry. Somehow, I could not seem to fit +any of the theories in with the facts. Evidently it was like many +another case, one in which we, as yet, had insufficient data for a +conclusion. + +Suddenly I recalled the theory that Waldon himself had advanced +regarding the wireless, either from the boat itself or from the +wireless station. For the moment, at least, it seemed plausible that +she might have been seated at the window, that she might have been +affected by escaped wireless, or by electrolysis. I knew that some +physicians had described a disease which they attributed to wireless, a +sort of anemia with a marked diminution in the number of red corpuscles +in the blood, due partly to the over etherization of the air by reason +of the alternating currents used to generate the waves. + +“I should like now to inspect the little wireless plant you have here +on the _Lucie_,” remarked Kennedy. “I noticed the mast as we were +approaching a few minutes ago.” + +I had turned at the sound of his voice in time to catch Edwards and Dr. +Jermyn eyeing each other furtively. Did they know about the letter, +after all, I wondered? Was each in doubt about just how much the other +knew? + +There was no time to pursue these speculations. “Certainly,” agreed Mr. +Edwards promptly, leading the way. + +Kennedy seemed keenly interested in inspecting the little wireless +plant, which was of a curious type and not exactly like any that I had +seen before. + +“Wireless apparatus,” he remarked, as he looked it over, “is divided +into three parts, the source of power whether battery or dynamo, the +making and sending of wireless waves, including the key, spark, +condenser and tuning coil, and the receiving apparatus, head +telephones, antennae, ground and detector.” + +Pedersen, the engineer, came in while we were looking the plant over, +but seemed uncommunicative to all Kennedy’s efforts to engage him in +conversation. + +“I see,” remarked Kennedy, “that it is a very compact system with +facilities for a quick change from one wave length to another.” + +“Yes,” grunted Pedersen, as averse to talking, evidently, as others on +the _Lucie_. + +“Spark gap, quenched type,” I heard Kennedy mutter almost to himself, +with a view to showing Pedersen that he knew something about it. “Break +system relay—operator can overhear any interference while +transmitting—transformation by a single throw of a six-point switch +which tunes the oscillating and open circuits to resonance. Very +clever—very efficient. By the way, Pedersen, are you the only person +aboard who can operate this?” + +“How should I know?” he answered almost surlily. + +“You ought to know, if anybody,” answered Kennedy unruffled. “I know +that it has been operated within the past few days.” + +Pedersen shrugged his shoulders. “You might ask the others aboard,” was +all he said. “Mr. Edwards pays me to operate it only for himself, when +he has no other operator.” + +Kennedy did not pursue the subject, evidently from fear of saying too +much just at present. + +“I wonder if there is anyone else who could have operated it,” said +Waldon, as we mounted again to the deck. + +“I don’t know,” replied Kennedy, pausing on the way up. “You haven’t a +wireless on the _Nautilus_, have you?” + +Waldon shook his head. “Never had any particular use for it myself,” he +answered. + +“You say that Miss Verrall and her mother have gone back to the city?” +pursued Kennedy, taking care that as before the others were out of +earshot. + +“Yes.” + +“I’d like to stay with you tonight, then,” decided Kennedy. “Might we +go over with you now? There doesn’t seem to be anything more I can do +here, unless we get some news about Mrs. Edwards.” + +Waldon seemed only too glad to agree, and no one on the _Lucie_ +insisted on our staying. + +We arrived at the _Nautilus_ a few minutes later, and while we were +lunching Kennedy dispatched the tender to the Marconi station with a +note. + +It was early in the afternoon when the tender returned with several +packages and coils of wire. Kennedy immediately set to work on the +_Nautilus_ stretching out some of the wire. + +“What is it you are planning?” asked Waldon, to whom every action of +Kennedy seemed to be a mystery of the highest interest. + +“Improvising my own wireless,” he replied, not averse to talking to the +young man to whom he seemed to have taken a fancy. “For short +distances, you know, it isn’t necessary to construct an aërial pole or +even to use outside wires to receive messages. All that is needed is to +use just a few wires stretched inside a room. The rest is just the +apparatus.” + +I was quite as much interested as Waldon. “In wireless,” he went on, +“the signals are not sent in one direction, but in all, so that a +person within range of the ethereal disturbance can get them if only he +has the necessary receiving apparatus. This apparatus need not be so +elaborate and expensive as used to be thought needful if a sensitive +detector is employed, and I have sent over to the station for a new +piece of apparatus which I knew they had in almost any Marconi station. +Why, I’ve got wireless signals using only twelve feet of number +eighteen copper wire stretched across a room and grounded with a water +pipe. You might even use a wire mattress on an iron bedstead.” + +“Can’t they find out by—er, interference?” I asked, repeating the term +I had so often heard. + +Kennedy laughed. “No, not for radio apparatus which merely receives +radiograms and is not equipped for sending. I am setting up only one +side of a wireless outfit here. All I want to do is to hear what is +being said. I don’t care about saying anything.” + +He unwrapped another package which had been loaned to him by the radio +station and we watched him curiously as he tested it and set it up. +Some parts of it I recognized such as the very sensitive microphone, +and another part I could have sworn was a phonograph cylinder, though +Craig was so busy testing his apparatus that now we could not ask +questions. + +It was late in the afternoon when he finished, and we had just time to +run up to the dock at Seaville and stop off at the _Lucie_ to see if +anything had happened in the intervening hours before dinner. There was +nothing, except that I found time to file a message to the _Star_ and +meet several fellow newspaper men who had been sent down by other +papers on the chance of picking up a good story. + +We had the _Nautilus_ to ourselves, and as she was a very comfortable +little craft, we really had a very congenial time, a plunge over her +side, a good dinner, and then a long talk out on deck under the stars, +in which we went over every phase of the case. As we discussed it, +Waldon followed keenly, and it was quite evident from his remarks that +he had come to the conclusion that Dr. Jermyn at least knew more than +he had told about the case. + +Still, the day wore away with no solution yet of the mystery. + + + + +CHAPTER IX +THE RADIO DETECTIVE + + +It was early the following morning when a launch drew up beside the +_Nautilus_. In it were Edwards and Dr. Jermyn, wildly excited. + +“What’s the matter?” called out Waldon. + +“They—they have found the body,” Edwards blurted out. + +Waldon paled and clutched the rail. He had thought the world of his +sister, and not until the last moment had he given up hope that perhaps +she might be found to have disappeared in some other way than had +become increasingly evident. + +“Where?” cried Kennedy. “Who?” + +“Over on Ten Mile Beach,” answered Edwards. “Some fishermen who had +been out on a cruise and hadn’t heard the story. They took the body to +town, and there it was recognized. They sent word out to us +immediately.” + +Waldon had already spun the engine of his tender, which was about the +fastest thing afloat about Seaville, had taken Edwards over, and we +were off in a cloud of spray, the nose of the boat many inches above +the surface of the water. + +In the little undertaking establishment at Seaville lay the body of the +beautiful young matron about whom so much anxiety had been felt. I +could not help thinking what an end was this for the incomparable +beauty. At the very height of her brief career the poor little woman’s +life had been suddenly snuffed out. But by what? The body had been +found, but the mystery had been far from solved. + +As Kennedy bent over the body, I heard him murmur to himself, “She had +everything—everything except happiness.” + +“Was it drowning that caused her death?” asked Kennedy of the local +doctor, who also happened to be coroner and had already arrived on the +scene. + +The doctor shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said doubtfully. “There +was congestion of the lungs—but I—I can’t say but what she might have +been dead before she fell or was thrown into the water.” + +Dr. Jermyn stood on one side, now and then putting in a word, but for +the most part silent unless spoken to. Kennedy, however, was making a +most minute examination. + +As he turned the beautiful head, almost reverently, he saw something +that evidently attracted his attention. I was standing next to him and, +between us, I think we cut off the view of the others. There on the +back of the neck, carefully, had been smeared something transparent, +almost skin-like, which had easily escaped the attention of the rest. + +Kennedy tried to pick it off, but only succeeded in pulling off a very +minute piece to which the flesh seemed to adhere. + +“That’s queer,” he whispered to me. “Water, naturally, has no effect on +it, else it would have been washed off long before. Walter,” he added, +“just slip across the street quietly to the drug store and get me a +piece of gauze soaked with acetone.” + +As quickly and unostentatiously as I could I did so and handed him the +wet cloth, contriving at the same time to add Waldon to our barrier, +for I could see that Kennedy was anxious to be observed as little as +possible. + +“What is it?” I whispered, as he rubbed the transparent skin-like stuff +off, and dropped the gauze into his pocket. + +“A sort of skin varnish,” he remarked under his breath, “waterproof and +so adhesive that it resists pulling off even with a knife without +taking the cuticle with it.” + +Beneath, as the skin varnish slowly dissolved under his gentle rubbing, +he had disclosed several very small reddish spots, like little cuts +that had been made by means of a very sharp instrument. As he did so, +he gave them a hasty glance, turned the now stony beautiful head +straight again, stood up, and resumed his talk with the coroner, who +was evidently getting more and more bewildered by the case. + +Edwards, who had completed the arrangements with the undertaker for the +care of the body as soon as the coroner released it, seemed completely +unnerved. + +“Jermyn,” he said to the doctor, as he turned away and hid his eyes, “I +can’t stand this. The undertaker wants some stuff from the—er—boat,” +his voice broke over the name which had been hers. “Will you get it for +me? I’m going up to a hotel here, and I’ll wait for you there. But I +can’t go out to the boat—yet.” + +“I think Mr. Waldon will be glad to take you out in his tender,” +suggested Kennedy. “Besides, I feel that I’d like a little fresh air as +a bracer, too, after such a shock.” + +“What were those little cuts?” I asked as Waldon and Dr. Jermyn +preceded us through the crowd outside to the pier. + +“Some one,” he answered in a low tone, “has severed the pneumogastric +nerves.” + +“The pneumogastric nerves?” I repeated. + +“Yes, the vagus or wandering nerve, the so-called tenth cranial nerve. +Unlike the other cranial nerves, which are concerned with the special +senses or distributed to the skin and muscles of the head and neck, the +vagus, as its name implies, strays downward into the chest and abdomen +supplying branches to the throat, lungs, heart and stomach and forms an +important connecting link between the brain and the sympathetic nervous +system.” + +We had reached the pier, and a nod from Kennedy discouraged further +conversation on the subject. + +A few minutes later we had reached the _Lucie_ and gone up over her +side. Kennedy waited until Jermyn had disappeared into the room of Mrs. +Edwards to get what the undertaker had desired. A moment and he had +passed quietly into Dr. Jermyn’s own room, followed by me. Several +quick glances about told him what not to waste time over, and at last +his eye fell on a little portable case of medicines and surgical +instruments. He opened it quickly and took out a bottle of golden +yellow liquid. + +Kennedy smelled it, then quickly painted some on the back of his hand. +It dried quickly, like an artificial skin. He had found a bottle of +skin varnish in Dr. Jermyn’s own medicine chest! + +We hurried back to the deck, and a few minutes later the doctor +appeared with a large package. + +“Did you ever hear of coating the skin by a substance which is +impervious to water, smooth and elastic?” asked Kennedy quietly as +Waldon’s tender sped along back to Seaville. + +“Why—er, yes,” he said frankly, raising his eyes and looking at Craig +in surprise. “There have been a dozen or more such substances. The best +is one which I use, made of pyroxylin, the soluble cotton of commerce, +dissolved in amyl acetate and acetone with some other substances that +make it perfectly sterile. Why do you ask?” + +“Because some one has used a little bit of it to cover a few slight +cuts on the back of the neck of Mrs. Edwards.” + +“Indeed?” he said simply, in a tone of mild surprise. + +“Yes,” pursued Kennedy. “They seem to me to be subcutaneous incisions +of the neck with a very fine scalpel dividing the two great +pneumogastric nerves. Of course you know what that would mean—the +victim would pass away naturally by slow and easy stages in three or +four days, and all that would appear might be congestion of the lungs. +They are delicate little punctures and elusive nerves to locate, but +after all it might be done as painlessly, as simply and as safely as a +barber might remove some dead hairs. A country coroner might easily +pass over such evidence at an autopsy—especially if it was concealed by +skin varnish.” + +I was surprised at the frankness with which Kennedy spoke, but +absolutely amazed at the coolness of Jermyn. At first he said +absolutely nothing. He seemed to be as set in his reticence as he had +been when we first met. + +I watched him narrowly. Waldon, who was driving the boat, had not heard +what was said, but I had, and I could not conceive how anyone could +take it so calmly. + +Finally Jermyn turned to Kennedy and looked him squarely in the eye. +“Kennedy,” he said slowly, “this is extraordinary—most extraordinary,” +then, pausing, added, “if true.” + +“There can be no doubt of the truth,” replied Kennedy, eyeing Dr. +Jermyn just as squarely. + +“What do you propose to do about it?” asked the doctor. + +“Investigate,” replied Kennedy simply. “While Waldon takes these things +up to the undertaker’s, we may as well wait here in the boat. I want +him to stop on the way back for Mr. Edwards. Then we shall go out to +the _Lucie_. He must go, whether he likes it or not.” + +It was indeed a most peculiar situation as Kennedy and I sat in the +tender with Dr. Jermyn waiting for Waldon to return with Edwards. Not a +word was spoken. + +The tenseness of the situation was not relieved by the return of Waldon +with Edwards. Waldon seemed to realize without knowing just what it +was, that something was about to happen. He drove his boat back to the +_Lucie_ again in record time. This was Kennedy’s turn to be reticent. +Whatever it was he was revolving in his mind, he answered in scarcely +more than monosyllables whatever questions were put to him. + +“You are not coming aboard?” inquired Edwards in surprise as he and +Jermyn mounted the steps of the houseboat ladder, and Kennedy remained +seated in the tender. + +“Not yet,” replied Craig coolly. + +“But I thought you had something to show me. Waldon told me you had.” + +“I think I shall have in a short time,” returned Kennedy. “We shall be +back immediately. I’m just going to ask Waldon to run over to the +_Nautilus_ for a few minutes. We’ll tow back your launch, too, in case +you need it.” + +Waldon had cast off obediently. + +“There’s one thing sure,” I remarked. “Jermyn can’t get away from the +_Lucie_ until we return—unless he swims.” + +Kennedy did not seem to pay much attention to the remark, for his only +reply was: “I’m taking a chance by this maneuvering, but I think it +will work out that I am correct. By the way, Waldon, you needn’t put on +so much speed. I’m in no great hurry to get back. Half an hour will be +time enough.” + +“Jermyn? What did you mean by Jermyn?” asked Waldon, as we climbed to +the deck of the _Nautilus_. + +He had evidently learned, as I had, that it was little use to try to +quiz Kennedy until he was ready to be questioned and had decided to try +it on me. + +I had nothing to conceal and I told him quite fully all that I knew. +Actually, I believe if Jermyn had been there, it would have taken both +Kennedy and myself to prevent violence. As it was I had a veritable +madman to deal with while Kennedy gathered up leisurely the wireless +outfit he had installed on the deck of Waldon’s yacht. It was only by +telling him that I would certainly demand that Kennedy leave him behind +if he did not control his feelings that I could calm him before Craig +had finished his work on the yacht. + +Waldon relieved himself by driving the tender back at top speed to the +_Lucie_, and now it seemed that Kennedy had no objection to traveling +as fast as the many-cylindered engine was capable of going. + +As we entered the saloon of the houseboat, I kept close watch over +Waldon. + +Kennedy began by slipping a record on the phonograph in the corner of +the saloon, then facing us and addressing Edwards particularly. + +“You may be interested to know, Mr. Edwards,” he said, “that your +wireless outfit here has been put to a use for which you never intended +it.” + +No one said anything, but I am sure that some one in the room then for +the first time began to suspect what was coming. + +“As you know, by the use of an aërial pole, messages may be easily +received from any number of stations,” continued Craig. “Laws, rules +and regulations may be adopted to shut out interlopers and plug +busybody ears, but the greater part of whatever is transmitted by the +Hertzian waves can be snatched down by other wireless apparatus. + +“Down below, in that little room of yours,” went on Craig, “might sit +an operator with his ear-phone clamped to his head, drinking in the +news conveyed surely and swiftly to him through the wireless +signals—plucking from the sky secrets of finance and,” he added, +leaning forward, “love.” + +In his usual dramatic manner Kennedy had swung his little audience +completely with him. + +“In other words,” he resumed, “it might be used for eavesdropping by a +wireless wiretapper. Now,” he concluded, “I thought that if there was +any radio detective work being done, I might as well do some, too.” + +He toyed for a moment with the phonograph record. “I have used,” he +explained, “Marconi’s radiotelephone, because in connection with his +receivers Marconi uses phonographic recorders and on them has captured +wireless telegraph signals over hundreds of miles. + +“He has found that it is possible to receive wireless signals, although +ordinary records are not loud enough, by using a small microphone on +the repeating diaphragm and connected with a loud-speaking telephone. +The chief difficulty was to get a microphone that would carry a +sufficient current without burning up. There were other difficulties, +but they have been surmounted and now wireless telegraph messages may +be automatically recorded and made audible.” + +Kennedy started the phonograph, running it along, stopping it, taking +up the record at a new point. + +“Listen,” he exclaimed at length, “there’s something interesting, the +WXY call—Seaville station—from some one on the _Lucie_ only a few +minutes ago, sending a message to be relayed by Seaville to the station +at Beach Park. It seems impossible, but buzzing and ticking forth is +this message from some one off this very houseboat. It reads: “Miss +Valerie Fox, Beach Park. I am suspected of the murder of Mrs. Edwards. +I appeal to you to help me. You must allow me to tell the truth about +the messages I intercepted for Mrs. Edwards which passed between +yourself on the ocean and Mr. Edwards in New York via Seaville. You +rejected me and would not let me save you. Now you must save me.” + +Kennedy paused, then added, “The message is signed by Dr. Jermyn!” + +At once I saw it all. Jermyn had been the unsuccessful suitor for Miss +Fox’s affections. But before I could piece out the rest of the tragic +story, Kennedy had started the phonograph record at an earlier point +which he had skipped for the present. + +“Here’s another record—a brief one—also to Valerie Fox from the +houseboat: ‘Refuse all interviews. Deny everything. Will see you as +soon as present excitement dies down.’” + +Before Kennedy could finish, Waldon had leaped forward, unable longer +to control his feelings. If Kennedy had not seized his arm, I verily +believe he would have cast Dr. Jermyn into the bay into which his +sister had fallen two nights before in her terribly weakened condition. + +“Waldon,” cried Kennedy, “for God’s sake, man—wait! Don’t you +understand? The second message is signed Tracy Edwards.” + +It came as quite as much a shock of surprise to me as to Waldon. + +“Don’t you understand?” he repeated. “Your sister first learned from +Dr. Jermyn what was going on. She moved the _Lucie_ down here near +Seaville in order to be near the wireless station when the ship bearing +her rival, Valerie Fox, got in touch with land. With the help of Dr. +Jermyn she intercepted the wireless messages from the _Kronprinz_ to +the shore—between her husband and Valerie Fox.” + +Kennedy was hurrying on now to his irresistible conclusion. “She found +that he was infatuated with the famous stage beauty, that he was +planning to marry another, her rival. She accused him of it, threatened +to defeat his plans. He knew she knew his unfaithfulness. Instead of +being your sister’s murderer, Dr. Jermyn was helping her get the +evidence that would save both her and perhaps win Miss Fox back to +himself.” + +Kennedy had turned sharply on Edwards. + +“But,” he added, with a glance that crushed any lingering hope that the +truth had been concealed, “the same night that Dr. Jermyn arrived here, +you visited your wife. As she slept you severed the nerves that meant +life or death to her. Then you covered the cuts with the preparation +which you knew Dr. Jermyn used. You asked him to stay, while you went +away, thinking that when death came you would have a perfect +alibi—perhaps a scapegoat. Edwards, the radio detective convicts you!” + + + + +CHAPTER X +THE CURIO SHOP + + +Edwards crumpled up as Kennedy and I faced him. There was no escape. In +fact our greatest difficulty was to protect him from Waldon. + +Kennedy’s work in the case was over when we had got Edwards ashore and +in the hands of the authorities. But mine had just begun and it was +late when I got my story on the wire for the _Star_. + +I felt pretty tired and determined to make up for it by sleeping the +next day. It was no use, however. + +“Why, what’s the matter, Mrs. Northrop?” I heard Kennedy ask as he +opened our door the next morning, just as I had finished dressing. + +He had admitted a young woman, who greeted us with nervous, +wide-staring eyes. + +“It’s—it’s about Archer,” she cried, sinking into the nearest chair and +staring from one to the other of us. + +She was the wife of Professor Archer Northrop, director of the +archeological department at the university. Both Craig and I had known +her ever since her marriage to Northrop, for she was one of the most +attractive ladies in the younger set of the faculty, to which Craig +naturally belonged. Archer had been of the class below us in the +university. We had hazed him, and out of the mild hazing there had, +strangely enough, grown a strong friendship. + +I recollected quickly that Northrop, according to last reports, had +been down in the south of Mexico on an archeological expedition. But +before I could frame, even in my mind, the natural question in a form +that would not alarm his wife further, Kennedy had it on his lips. + +“No bad news from Mitla, I hope?” he asked gently, recalling one of the +main working stations chosen by the expedition and the reported +unsettled condition of the country about it. She looked up quickly. + +“Didn’t you know—he—came back from Vera Cruz yesterday?” she asked +slowly, then added, speaking in a broken tone, “and—he +seems—suddenly—to have disappeared. Oh, such a terrible night of worry! +No word—and I called up the museum, but Doctor Bernardo, the curator, +had gone, and no one answered. And this morning—I couldn’t stand it any +longer—so I came to you.” + +“You have no idea, I suppose, of anything that was weighing on his +mind?” suggested Kennedy. + +“No,” she answered promptly. + +In default of any further information, Kennedy did not pursue this line +of questioning. I could not determine from his face or manner whether +he thought the matter might involve another than Mrs. Northrop, or, +perhaps, something connected with the unsettled condition of the +country from which her husband had just arrived. + +“Have you any of the letters that Archer wrote home?” asked Craig, at +length. + +“Yes,” she replied eagerly, taking a little packet from her handbag. “I +thought you might ask that. I brought them.” + +“You are an ideal client,” commented Craig encouragingly, taking the +letters. “Now, Mrs. Northrop, be brave. Trust me to run this thing +down, and if you hear anything let me know immediately.” + +She left us a moment later, visibly relieved. + +Scarcely had she gone when Craig, stuffing the letters into his pocket +unread, seized his hat, and a moment later was striding along toward +the museum with his habitual rapid, abstracted step which told me that +he sensed a mystery. + +In the museum we met Doctor Bernardo, a man slightly older than +Northrop, with whom he had been very intimate. He had just arrived and +was already deeply immersed in the study of some new and beautiful +colored plates from the National Museum of Mexico City. + +“Do you remember seeing Northrop here yesterday afternoon?” greeted +Craig, without explaining what had happened. + +“Yes,” he answered promptly. “I was here with him until very late. At +least, he was in his own room, working hard, when I left.” + +“Did you see him go?” + +“Why—er—no,” replied Bernardo, as if that were a new idea. “I left him +here—at least, I didn’t see him go out.” + +Kennedy tried the door of Northrop’s room, which was at the far end, in +a corner, and communicated with the hall only through the main floor of +the museum. It was locked. A pass-key from the janitor quickly opened +it. + +Such a sight as greeted us, I shall never forget. There, in his big +desk-chair, sat Northrop, absolutely rigid, the most horribly contorted +look on his features that I have ever seen—half of pain, half of fear, +as if of something nameless. + +Kennedy bent over. His hands were cold. + +Northrop had been dead at least twelve hours, perhaps longer. All night +the deserted museum had guarded its terrible secret. + +As Craig peered into his face, he saw, in the fleshy part of the neck, +just below the left ear, a round red mark, with just a drop or two of +now black coagulated blood in the center. All around we could see a +vast amount of miscellaneous stuff, partly unpacked, partly just +opened, and waiting to be taken out of the wrappings by the now +motionless hands. + +“I suppose you are more or less familiar with what Northrop brought +back?” asked Kennedy of Bernardo, running his eye over the material in +the room. + +“Yes, reasonably,” answered Bernardo. “Before the cases arrived from +the wharf, he told me in detail what he had managed to bring up with +him.” + +“I wish, then, that you would look it over and see if there is anything +missing,” requested Craig, already himself busy in going over the room +for other evidence. + +Doctor Bernardo hastily began taking a mental inventory of the stuff. +While they worked, I tried vainly to frame some theory which would +explain the startling facts we had so suddenly discovered. + +Mitla, I knew, was south of the city of Oaxaca, and there, in its +ruined palaces, was the crowning achievement of the old Zapotec kings. +No ruins in America were more elaborately ornamented or richer in lore +for the archeologist. + +Northrop had brought up porphyry blocks with quaint grecques and much +hieroglyphic painting. Already unpacked were half a dozen copper axes, +some of the first of that particular style that had ever been brought +to the United States. Besides the sculptured stones and the mosaics +were jugs, cups, vases, little gods, sacrificial stones—enough, almost, +to equip a new alcove in the museum. + +Before Northrop was an idol, a hideous thing on which frogs and snakes +squatted and coiled. It was a fitting piece to accompany the gruesome +occupant of the little room in his long, last vigil. In fact, it almost +sent a shudder over me, and if I had been inclined to the +superstitious, I should certainly have concluded that this was +retribution for having disturbed the _lares_ and _penates_ of a dead +race. + +Doctor Bernardo was going over the material a second time. By the look +on his face, even I could guess that something was missing. + +“What is it?” asked Craig, following the curator closely. + +“Why,” he answered slowly, “there was an inscription—we were looking at +it earlier in the day—on a small block of porphyry. I don’t see it.” + +He paused and went back to his search before we could ask him further +what he thought the inscription was about. + +I thought nothing myself at the time of his reticence, for Kennedy had +gone over to a window back of Northrop and to the left. It was fully +twenty feet from the downward slope of the campus there, and, as he +craned his neck out, he noted that the copper leader of the rain pipe +ran past it a few feet away. + +I, too, looked out. A thick group of trees hid the window from the +avenue beyond the campus wall, and below us, at a corner of the +building, was a clump of rhododendrons. As Craig bent over the sill, he +whipped out a pocket lens. + +A moment later he silently handed the glass to me. As nearly as I could +make out, there were five marks on the dust of the sill. + +“Finger-prints!” I exclaimed. “Some one has been clinging to the edge +of the ledge.” + +“In that case,” Craig observed quietly, “there would have been only +four prints.” + +I looked again, puzzled. The prints were flat and well separated. + +“No,” he added, “not finger-prints—toe-prints.” + +“Toe-prints?” I echoed. + +Before he could reply, Craig had dashed out of the room, around, and +under the window. There, he was carefully going over the soft earth +around the bushes below. + +“What are you looking for?” I asked, joining him. + +“Some one—perhaps two—has been here,” he remarked, almost under his +breath. “One, at least, has removed his shoes. See those shoe-prints up +to this point? The print of a boot-heel in soft earth shows the +position and contour of every nail head. Bertillon has made a +collection of such nails, certain types, sizes, and shapes used in +certain boots, showing often what country the shoes came from. Even the +number and pattern are significant. Some factories use a fixed number +of nails and arrange them in a particular manner. I have made my own +collection of such prints in this country. These were American shoes. +Perhaps the clue will not lead us anywhere, though, for I doubt whether +it was an American foot.” + +Kennedy continued to study the marks. + +“He removed his shoes—either to help in climbing or to prevent +noise—ah—here’s the foot! Strange—see how small it is—and broad, how +prehensile the toes—almost like fingers. Surely that foot could never +have been encased in American shoes all its life. I shall make plaster +casts of these, to preserve later.” + +He was still scouting about on hands and knees in the dampness of the +rhododendrons. Suddenly he reached his long arm in among the shrubs and +picked up a little reed stick. On the end of it was a small cylinder of +buff brown. + +He looked at it curiously, dug his nail into the soft mass, then rubbed +his nail over the tip of his tongue gingerly. + +With a wry face, as if the taste were extremely acrid, he moistened his +handkerchief and wiped off his tongue vigorously. + +“Even that minute particle that was on my nail makes my tongue tingle +and feel numb,” he remarked, still rubbing. “Let us go back again. I +want to see Bernardo.” + +“Had he any visitors during the day?” queried Kennedy, as he reentered +the ghastly little room, while the curator stood outside, completely +unnerved by the tragedy which had been so close to him without his +apparently knowing it. Kennedy was squeezing out from the little wound +on Northrop’s neck a few drops of liquid on a sterilized piece of +glass. + +“No; no one,” Bernardo answered, after a moment. + +“Did you see anyone in the museum who looked suspicious?” asked +Kennedy, watching Bernardo’s face keenly. + +“No,” he hesitated. “There were several people wandering about among +the exhibits, of course. One, I recall, late in the afternoon, was a +little dark-skinned woman, rather good-looking.” + +“A Mexican?” + +“Yes, I should say so. Not of Spanish descent, though. She was rather +of the Indian type. She seemed to be much interested in the various +exhibits, asked me several questions, very intelligently, too. Really, +I thought she was trying to—er—flirt with me.” + +He shot a glance at Craig, half of confession, half of embarrassment. + +“And—oh, yes—there was another—a man, a little man, as I recall, with +shaggy hair. He looked like a Russian to me. I remember, because he +came to the door, peered around hastily, and went away. I thought he +might have got into the wrong part of the building and went to direct +him right—but before I could get out into the hall, he was gone. I +remember, too, that, as I turned, the woman had followed me and soon +was asking other questions—which, I will admit—I was glad to answer.” + +“Was Northrop in his room while these people were here?” + +“Yes; he had locked the door so that none of the students or visitors +could disturb him.” + +“Evidently the woman was diverting your attention while the man entered +Northrop’s room by the window,” ruminated Craig, as we stood for a +moment in the outside doorway. + +He had already telephoned to our old friend Doctor Leslie, the coroner, +to take charge of the case, and now was ready to leave. The news had +spread, and the janitor of the building was waiting to lock the campus +door to keep back the crowd of students and others. + +Our next duty was the painful one of breaking the news to Mrs. +Northrop. I shall pass it over. Perhaps no one could have done it more +gently than Kennedy. She did not cry. She was simply dazed. Fortunately +her mother was with her, had been, in fact, ever since Northrop had +gone on the expedition. + +“Why should anyone want to steal tablets of old Mixtec inscriptions?” I +asked thoughtfully, as we walked sadly over the campus in the direction +of the chemistry building. “Have they a sufficient value, even on +appreciative Fifth Avenue, to warrant murder?” + +“Well,” he remarked, “it does seem incomprehensible. Yet people do just +such things. The psychologists tell us that there is a veritable mania +for possessing such curios. However, it is possible that there may be +some deeper significance in this case,” he added, his face puckered in +thought. + +Who was the mysterious Mexican woman, who the shaggy Russian? I asked +myself. Clearly, at least, if she existed at all, she was one of the +millions not of Spanish but of Indian descent in the country south of +us. As I reasoned it out, it seemed to me as if she must have been an +accomplice. She could not have got into Northrop’s room either before +or after Doctor Bernardo left. Then, too, the toe-and shoe-prints were +not hers. But, I figured, she certainly had a part in the plot. + +While I was engaged in the vain effort to unravel the tragic affair by +pure reason, Kennedy was at work with practical science. + +He began by examining the little dark cylinder on the end of the reed. +On a piece of the stuff, broken off, he poured a dark liquid from a +brown-glass bottle. Then he placed it under a microscope. + +“Microscopically,” he said slowly, “it consists almost wholly of +minute, clear granules which give a blue reaction with iodine. They are +starch. Mixed with them are some larger starch granules, a few plant +cells, fibrous matter, and other foreign particles. And then, there is +the substance that gives that acrid, numbing taste.” He appeared to be +vacantly studying the floor. + +“What do you think it is?” I asked, unable to restrain myself. + +“Aconite,” he answered slowly, “of which the active principle is the +deadly poisonous alkaloid, aconitin.” + +He walked over and pulled down a well-thumbed standard work on +toxicology, turned the pages, then began to read aloud: + +Pure aconitin is probably the most actively poisonous substance with +which we are acquainted and, if administered hypodermically, the +alkaloid is even more powerfully poisonous than when taken by the +mouth. + +As in the case of most of the poisonous alkaloids, aconitin does not +produce any decidedly characteristic post-mortem appearances. There is +no way to distinguish it from other alkaloids, in fact, no reliable +chemical test. The physiological effects before death are all that can +be relied on. + +Owing to its exceeding toxic nature, the smallness of the dose required +to produce death, and the lack of tests for recognition, aconitin +possesses rather more interest in legal medicine than most other +poisons. + +It is one of the few substances which, in the present state of +toxicology, might be criminally administered and leave no positive +evidence of the crime. If a small but fatal dose of the poison were to +be given, especially if it were administered hypodermically, the +chances of its detection in the body after death would be practically +none. + + + + +CHAPTER XI +THE “PILLAR OF DEATH” + + +I was looking at him fixedly as the diabolical nature of what must have +happened sank into my mind. Here was a poison that defied detection. I +could see by the look on Craig’s face that that problem, alone, was +enough to absorb his attention. He seemed fully to realize that we had +to deal with a criminal so clever that he might never be brought to +justice. + +An idea flashed over me. + +“How about the letters?” I suggested. + +“Good, Walter!” he exclaimed. + +He untied the package which Mrs. Northrop had given him and glanced +quickly over one after another of the letters. + +“Ah!” he exclaimed, fairly devouring one dated at Mitla. “Listen—it +tells about Northrop’s work and goes on: + +“‘I have been much interested in a cavern, or _subterraneo_, here, in +the shape of a cross, each arm of which extends for some twelve feet +underground. In the center it is guarded by a block of stone popularly +called “the Pillar of Death.” There is a superstition that whoever +embraces it will die before the sun goes down. + +“‘From the _subterraneo_ is said to lead a long, underground passage +across the court to another subterranean chamber which is full of +Mixtec treasure. Treasure hunters have dug all around it, and it is +said that two old Indians, only, know of the immense amount of buried +gold and silver, but that they will not reveal it.’” + +I started up. Here was the missing link which I had been waiting for. + +“There, at least, is the motive,” I blurted out. “That is why Bernardo +was so reticent. Northrop, in his innocence of heart, had showed him +that inscription.” + +Kennedy said nothing as he finally tied up the little packet of letters +and locked it in his safe. He was not given to hasty generalizations; +neither was he one who clung doggedly to a preconceived theory. + +It was still early in the afternoon. Craig and I decided to drop into +the museum again in order to see Doctor Bernardo. He was not there and +we sat down to wait. + +Just then the letter box in the door clicked. It was the postman on his +rounds. Kennedy walked over and picked up the letter. + +The postmark bore the words, “Mexico City,” and a date somewhat later +than that on which Northrop had left Vera Cruz. In the lower corner, +underscored, were the words, “Personal—Urgent.” + +“I’d like to know what is in that,” remarked Craig, turning it over and +over. + +He appeared to be considering something, for he rose suddenly and +shoved the letter into his pocket. + +I followed, and a few moments later, across the campus in his +laboratory, he was working quickly over an X-ray apparatus. He had +placed the letter in it. + +“These are what are known as ‘low’ tubes,” he explained. “They give out +‘soft rays.’” He continued to work for a few moments, then handed me +the letter. + +“Now, Walter,” he said, “if you will just hurry back to the museum and +replace that letter, I think I will have something that will astonish +you—though whether it will have any bearing on the case, remains to be +seen.” + +“What is it?” I asked, a few minutes later, when I had rejoined him, +after returning the letter. He was poring intently over what looked +like a negative. + +“The possibility of reading the contents of documents inclosed in a +sealed envelope,” he replied, still studying the shadowgraph closely, +“has already been established by the well-known English scientist, +Doctor Hall Edwards. He has been experimenting with the method of using +X-rays recently discovered by a German scientist, by which radiographs +of very thin substances, such as a sheet of paper, a leaf, an insect’s +body, may be obtained. These thin substances through which the rays +used formerly to pass without leaving an impression, can now be +radiographed.” + +I looked carefully as he traced out something on the negative. On it +was easily possible, following his guidance, to read the words +inscribed on the sheet of paper inside. So admirably defined were all +the details that even the gum on the envelope and the edges of the +sheet of paper inside the envelope could be distinguished. + +“Any letter written with ink having a mineral basis can be +radiographed,” added Craig. “Even when the sheet is folded in the usual +way, it is possible by taking a radiograph stereoscopically, to +distinguish the writing, every detail standing out in relief. Besides, +it can be greatly magnified, which aids in deciphering it if it is +indistinct or jumbled up. Some of it looks like mirror writing. Ah,” he +added, “here’s something interesting!” + +Together we managed to trace out the contents of several paragraphs, of +which the significant parts were as follows: + +I am expecting that my friend Señora Herreria will be in New York by +the time you receive this, and should she call on you, I know you will +accord her every courtesy. She has been in Mexico City for a few days, +having just returned from Mitla, where she met Professor Northrop. It +is rumored that Professor Northrop has succeeded in smuggling out of +the country a very important stone bearing an inscription which, I +understand, is of more than ordinary interest. I do not know anything +definite about it, as Señora Herreria is very reticent on the matter, +but depend on you to find out if possible and let me know of it. + +According to the rumors and the statements of the _señora_, it seems +that Northrop has taken an unfair advantage of the situation down in +Oaxaca, and I suppose she and others who know about the inscription +feel that it is really the possession of the government. + +You will find that the _señora_ is an accomplished antiquarian and +scholar. Like many others down here just now, she has a high regard for +the Japanese. As you know, there exists a natural sympathy between some +Mexicans and Japanese, owing to what is believed to be a common origin +of the two races. + +In spite of the assertions of many to the contrary, there is little +doubt left in the minds of students that the Indian races which have +peopled Mexico were of Mongolian stock. Many words in some dialects are +easily understood by Chinese immigrants. A secretary of the Japanese +legation here was able recently to decipher old Mixtec inscriptions +found in the ruins of Mitla. + +Señora Herreria has been much interested in establishing the +relationship and, I understand, is acquainted with a Japanese curio +dealer in New York who recently visited Mexico for the same purpose. I +believe that she wishes to collaborate with him on a monograph on the +subject, which is expected to have a powerful effect on the public +opinion both here and at Tokyo. + +In regard to the inscription which Northrop has taken with him, I rely +on you to keep me informed. There seems to be a great deal of mystery +connected with it, and I am simply hazarding a guess as to its nature. +If it should prove to be something which might interest either the +Japanese or ourselves, you can see how important it may be, especially +in view of the forthcoming mission of General Francisco to Tokyo. + +Very sincerely yours, +DR. EMILIO SANCHEZ, Director. + + +“Bernardo is a Mexican,” I exclaimed, as Kennedy finished reading, “and +there can be no doubt that the woman he mentioned was this Señora +Herreria.” + +Kennedy said nothing, but seemed to be weighing the various paragraphs +in the letter. + +“Still,” I observed, “so far, the only one against whom we have any +direct suspicion in the case is the shaggy Russian, whoever he is.” + +“A man whom Bernardo says looked like a Russian,” corrected Craig. + +He was pacing the laboratory restlessly. + +“This is becoming quite an international affair,” he remarked finally, +pausing before me, his hat on. “Would you like to relax your mind by a +little excursion among the curio shops of the city? I know something +about Japanese curios—more, perhaps, than I do of Mexican. It may amuse +us, even if it doesn’t help in solving the mystery. Meanwhile, I shall +make arrangements for shadowing Bernardo. I want to know just how he +acts after he reads that letter.” + +He paused long enough to telephone his instructions to an uptown +detective agency which could be depended on for such mere routine work, +then joined me with the significant remark: “Blood is thicker than +water, anyhow, Walter. Still, even if the Mexicans are influenced by +sentiment, I hardly think that would account for the interest of our +friends from across the water in the matter.” + +I do not know how many of the large and small curio shops of the city +we visited that afternoon. At another time, I should have enjoyed the +visits immensely, for anyone seeking articles of beauty will find the +antique shops of Fifth and Fourth Avenues and the side streets well +worth visiting. + +We came, at length, to one, a small, quaint, dusty rookery, down in a +basement, entered almost directly from the street. It bore over the +door a little gilt sign which read simply, “Sato’s.” + +As we entered, I could not help being impressed by the wealth of +articles in beautiful cloisonne enamel, in mother-of-pearl, lacquer, +and champleve. There were beautiful little koros, or incense burners, +vases, and teapots. There were enamels incrusted, translucent, and +painted, works of the famous Namikawa, of Kyoto, and Namikawa, of +Tokyo. Satsuma vases, splendid and rare examples of the potter’s art, +crowded gorgeously embroidered screens depicting all sorts of brilliant +scenes, among others the sacred Fujiyama rising in the stately +distance. Sato himself greeted us with a ready smile and bow. + +“I am just looking for a few things to add to my den,” explained +Kennedy, adding, “nothing in particular, but merely whatever happens to +strike my fancy.” + +“Surely, then, you have come to the right shop,” greeted Sato. “If +there is anything that interests you, I shall be glad to show it.” + +“Thank you,” replied Craig. “Don’t let me trouble you with your other +customers. I will call on you if I see anything.” + +For several minutes, Craig and I busied ourselves looking about, and we +did not have to feign interest, either. + +“Often things are not as represented,” he whispered to me, after a +while, “but a connoiseur can tell spurious goods. These are the real +thing, mostly.” + +“Not one in fifty can tell the difference,” put in the voice of Sato, +at his elbow. + +“Well, you see I happen to know,” Craig replied, not the least +disconcerted. “You can’t always be too sure.” + +A laugh and a shrug was Sato’s answer. “It’s well all are not so keen,” +he said, with a frank acknowledgment that he was not above sharp +practices. + +I glanced now and then at the expressionless face of the curio dealer. +Was it merely the natural blankness of his countenance that impressed +me, or was there, in fact, something deep and dark hidden in it, +something of “East is East and West is West” which I did not and could +not understand? Craig was admiring the bronzes. He had paused before +one, a square metal fire-screen of odd design, with the title on a +card, “Japan Gazing at the World.” + +It represented Japan as an eagle, with beak and talons of burnished +gold, resting on a rocky island about which great waves dashed. The +bird had an air of dignity and conscious pride in its strength, as it +looked out at the world, a globe revolving in space. + +“Do you suppose there is anything significant in that?” I asked, +pointing to the continent of North America, also in gold and +prominently in view. + +“Ah, honorable sir,” answered Sato, before Kennedy could reply, “the +artist intended by that to indicate Japan’s friendliness for America +and America’s greatness.” + +He was inscrutable. It seemed as if he were watching our every move, +and yet it was done with a polite cordiality that could not give +offense. + +Behind some bronzes of the Japanese Hercules destroying the demons and +other mythical heroes was a large alcove, or _tokonoma_, decorated with +peacock, stork, and crane panels. Carvings and lacquer added to the +beauty of it. A miniature chrysanthemum garden heightened the illusion. +Carved _hinoki_ wood framed the panels, and the roof was supported by +columns in the old Japanese style, the whole being a compromise between +the very simple and quiet and the polychromatic. The dark woods, the +lanterns, the floor tiles of dark red, and the cushions of rich gold +and yellow were most alluring. It had the genuine fascination of the +Orient. + +“Will the gentlemen drink a little _sake?_” Sato asked politely. + +Craig thanked him and said that we would. + +“Otaka!” Sato called. + +A peculiar, almost white-skinned attendant answered, and a moment later +produced four cups and poured out the rice brandy, taking his own +quietly, apart from us. I watched him drink, curiously. He took the +cup; then, with a long piece of carved wood, he dipped into the _sake_, +shaking a few drops on the floor to the four quarters. Finally, with a +deft sweep, he lifted his heavy mustache with the piece of wood and +drank off the draft almost without taking breath. + +He was a peculiar man of middle height, with a shock of dark, tough, +woolly hair, well formed and not bad-looking, with a robust general +physique, as if his ancestors had been meat eaters. His forehead was +narrow and sloped backward; the cheekbones were prominent; nose hooked, +broad and wide, with strong nostrils; mouth large, with thick lips, and +not very prominent chin. His eyes were perhaps the most noticeable +feature. They were dark gray, almost like those of a European. + +As Otaka withdrew with the empty cups, we rose to continue our +inspection of the wonders of the shop. There were ivories of all +descriptions. Here was a two-handled sword, with a very large ivory +handle, a weirdly carved scabbard, and wonderful steel blade. By the +expression of Craig’s face, Sato knew that he had made a sale. + +Craig had been rummaging among some warlike instruments which Sato, +with the instincts of a true salesman, was now displaying, and had +picked up a bow. It was short, very strong, and made of pine wood. He +held it horizontally and twanged the string. I looked up in time to +catch a pleased expression on the face of Otaka. + +“Most people would have held it the other way,” commented Sato. + +Craig said nothing, but was examining an arrow, almost twenty inches +long and thick, made of cane, with a point of metal very sharp but +badly fastened. He fingered the deep blood groove in the scooplike head +of the arrow and looked at it carefully. + +“I’ll take that,” he said, “only I wish it were one with the regular +reddish-brown lump in it.” + +“Oh, but, honorable sir,” apologized Sato, “the Japanese law prohibits +that, now. There are few of those, and they are very valuable.” + +“I suppose so,” agreed Craig. “This will do, though. You have a +wonderful shop here, Sato. Some time, when I feel richer, I mean to +come in again. No, thank you, you need not send them; I’ll carry them.” + +We bowed ourselves out, promising to come again when Sato received a +new consignment from the Orient which he was expecting. + +“That other Jap is a peculiar fellow,” I observed, as we walked along +uptown again. + +“He isn’t a Jap,” remarked Craig. “He is an Ainu, one of the aborigines +who have been driven northward into the island of Yezo.” + +“An Ainu?” I repeated. + +“Yes. Generally thought, now, to be a white race and nearer of kin to +Europeans than Asiatics. The Japanese have pushed them northward and +are now trying to civilize them. They are a dirty, hairy race, but when +they are brought under civilizing influences they adapt themselves to +their environment and make very good servants. Still, they are on about +the lowest scale of humanity.” + +“I thought Otaka was very mild,” I commented. + +“They are a most inoffensive and peaceable people usually,” he +answered, “good-natured and amenable to authority. But they become +dangerous when driven to despair by cruel treatment. The Japanese +government is very considerate of them—but not all Japanese are.” + + + + +CHAPTER XII +THE ARROW POISON + + +Far into the night Craig was engaged in some very delicate and minute +microscopic work in the laboratory. + +We were about to leave when there was a gentle tap on the door. Kennedy +opened it and admitted a young man, the operative of the detective +agency who had been shadowing Bernardo. His report was very brief, but, +to me at least, significant. Bernardo, on his return to the museum, had +evidently read the letter, which had agitated him very much, for a few +moments later he hurriedly left and went downtown to the Prince Henry +Hotel. The operative had casually edged up to the desk and overheard +whom he asked for. It was Señora Herreria. Once again, later in the +evening, he had asked for her, but she was still out. + +It was quite early the next morning, when Kennedy had resumed his +careful microscopic work, that the telephone bell rang, and he answered +it mechanically. But a moment later a look of intense surprise crossed +his face. + +“It was from Doctor Leslie,” he announced, hanging up the receiver +quickly. “He has a most peculiar case which he wants me to see—a +woman.” + +Kennedy called a cab, and, at a furious pace, we dashed across the city +and down to the Metropolitan Hospital, where Doctor Leslie was waiting. +He met us eagerly and conducted us to a little room where, lying +motionless on a bed, was a woman. + +She was a striking-looking woman, dark of hair and skin, and in life +she must have been sensuously attractive. But now her face was drawn +and contorted—with the same ghastly look that had been on the face of +Northrop. + +“She died in a cab,” explained Doctor Leslie, “before they could get +her to the hospital. At first they suspected the cab driver. But he +seems to have proved his innocence. He picked her up last night on +Fifth Avenue, reeling—thought she was intoxicated. And, in fact, he +seems to have been right. Our tests have shown a great deal of alcohol +present, but nothing like enough to have had such a serious effect.” + +“She told nothing of herself?” asked Kennedy. + +“No; she was pretty far gone when the cabby answered her signal. All he +could get out of her was a word that sounded like ‘Curio-curio.’ He +says she seemed to complain of something about her mouth and head. Her +face was drawn and shrunken; her hands were cold and clammy, and then +convulsions came on. He called an ambulance, but she was past saving +when it arrived. The numbness seemed to have extended over all her +body; swallowing was impossible; there was entire loss of her voice as +well as sight, and death took place by syncope.” + +“Have you any clue to the cause of her death?” asked Craig. + +“Well, it might have been some trouble with her heart, I suppose,” +remarked Doctor Leslie tentatively. + +“Oh, she looks strong that way. No, hardly anything organic.” + +“Well, then I thought she looked like a Mexican,” went on Doctor +Leslie. “It might be some new tropical disease. I confess I don’t know. +The fact is,” he added, lowering his voice, “I had my own theory about +it until a few moments ago. That was why I called you.” + +“What do you mean?” asked Craig, evidently bent on testing his own +theory by the other’s ignorance. + +Doctor Leslie made no answer immediately, but raised the sheet which +covered her body and disclosed, in the fleshy part of the upper arm, a +curious little red swollen mark with a couple of drops of darkened +blood. + +“I thought at first,” he added, “that we had at last a genuine +‘poisoned needle’ case. You see, that looked like it. But I have made +all the tests for curare and strychnin without results.” + +At the mere suggestion, a procession of hypodermic-needle and +white-slavery stories flashed before me. + +“But,” objected Kennedy, “clearly this was not a case of kidnaping. It +is a case of murder. Have you tested for the ordinary poisons?” + +Doctor Leslie shook his head. “There was no poison,” he said, +“absolutely none that any of our tests could discover.” + +Kennedy bent over and squeezed out a few drops of liquid from the wound +on a microscope slide, and covered them. + +“You have not identified her yet,” he added, looking up. “I think you +will find, Leslie, that there is a Señora Herreria registered at the +Prince Henry who is missing, and that this woman will agree with the +description of her. Anyhow, I wish you would look it up and let me +know.” + +Half an hour later, Kennedy was preparing to continue his studies with +the microscope when Doctor Bernardo entered. He seemed most solicitous +to know what progress was being made on the case, and, although Kennedy +did not tell much, still he did not discourage conversation on the +subject. + +When we came in the night before, Craig had unwrapped and tossed down +the Japanese sword and the Ainu bow and arrow on a table, and it was +not long before they attracted Bernardo’s attention. + +“I see you are a collector yourself,” he ventured, picking them up. + +“Yes,” answered Craig, offhand; “I picked them up yesterday at Sato’s. +You know the place?” + +“Oh, yes, I know Sato,” answered the curator, seemingly without the +slightest hesitation. “He has been in Mexico—is quite a student.” + +“And the other man, Otaka?” + +“Other man—Otaka? You mean his wife?” + +I saw Kennedy check a motion of surprise and came to the rescue with +the natural question: “His wife—with a beard and mustache?” + +It was Bernardo’s turn to be surprised. He looked at me a moment, then +saw that I meant it, and suddenly his face lighted up. + +“Oh,” he exclaimed, “that must have been on account of the immigration +laws or something of the sort. Otaka is his wife. The Ainus are much +sought after by the Japanese as wives. The women, you know, have a +custom of tattooing mustaches on themselves. It is hideous, but they +think it is beautiful.” + +“I know,” I pursued, watching Kennedy’s interest in our conversation, +“but this was not tattooed.” + +“Well, then, it must have been false,” insisted Bernardo. + +The curator chatted a few moments, during which I expected Kennedy to +lead the conversation around to Señora Herreria. But he did not, +evidently fearing to show his hand. + +“What did you make of it?” I asked, when he had gone. “Is he trying to +hide something?” + +“I think he has simplified the case,” remarked Craig, leaning back, his +hands behind his head, gazing up at the ceiling. “Hello, here’s Leslie! +What did you find, Doctor?” The coroner had entered with a look of awe +on his face, as if Kennedy had directed him by some sort of necromancy. + +“It was Señora Herreria!” he exclaimed. “She has been missing from the +hotel ever since late yesterday afternoon. What do you think of it?” + +“I think,” replied Kennedy, speaking slowly and deliberately, “that it +is very much like the Northrop case. You haven’t taken that up yet?” + +“Only superficially. What do you make of it?” asked the coroner. + +“I had an idea that it might be aconitin poisoning,” he said. + +Leslie glanced at him keenly for a moment. “Then you’ll never prove +anything in the laboratory,” he said. + +“There are more ways of catching a criminal, Leslie,” put in Craig, +“than are set down in the medico-legal text-books. I shall depend on +you and Jameson to gather together a rather cosmopolitan crowd here +to-night.” + +He said it with a quiet confidence which I could not gainsay, although +I did not understand. However, mostly with the official aid of Doctor +Leslie, I followed out his instructions, and it was indeed a strange +party that assembled that night. There were Doctor Bernardo; Sato, the +curio dealer; Otaka, the Ainu, and ourselves. Mrs. Northrop, of course, +could not come. + +“Mexico,” began Craig, after he had said a few words explaining why he +had brought us together, “is full of historical treasure. To all +intents and purposes, the government says, ‘Come and dig.’ But when +there are finds, then the government swoops down on them for its own +national museum. The finder scarcely gets a chance to export them. +However, now seemed to be the time to Professor Northrop to smuggle his +finds out of the country. + +“But evidently it could not be done without exciting all kinds of +rumors and suspicions. Stories seem to have spread far and fast about +what he had discovered. He realized the unsettled condition of the +country—perhaps wanted to confirm his reading of a certain inscription +by consultation with one scholar whom he thought he could trust. At any +rate, he came home.” + +Kennedy paused, making use of the silence for emphasis. “You have all +read of the wealth that Cortez found in Mexico. Where are the gold and +silver of the _conquistadores?_ Gone to the melting pot, centuries ago. +But is there none left? The Indians believe so. There are persons who +would stop at nothing—even at murder of American professors, murder of +their own comrades, to get at the secret.” + +He laid his hand almost lovingly on his powerful little microscope as +he resumed on another line of evidence. + +“And while we are on the subject of murders, two very similar deaths +have occurred,” he went on. “It is of no use to try to gloss them over. +Frankly, I suspected that they might have been caused by aconite +poisoning. But, in the case of such poisoning, not only is the lethal +dose very small but our chemical methods of detection are _nil_. The +dose of the active principle, aconitin nitrate, is about one +six-hundredth of a grain. There are no color tests, no reactions, as in +the case of the other organic poisons.” + +I wondered what he was driving at. Was there, indeed, no test? Had the +murderer used the safest of poisons—one that left no clue? I looked +covertly at Sato’s face. It was impassive. Doctor Bernardo was visibly +uneasy as Kennedy proceeded. Cool enough up to the time of the mention +of the treasure, I fancied, now, that he was growing more and more +nervous. + +Craig laid down on the table the reed stick with the little darkened +cylinder on the end. + +“That,” he said, “is a little article which I picked up beneath +Northrop’s window yesterday. It is a piece of _anno-noki_, or _bushi_.” +I fancied I saw just a glint of satisfaction in Otaka’s eyes. + +“Like many barbarians,” continued Craig, “the Ainus from time +immemorial have prepared virulent poisons with which they charged their +weapons of the chase and warfare. The formulas for the preparations, as +in the case of other arrow poisons of other tribes, are known only to +certain members, and the secret is passed down from generation to +generation as an heirloom, as it were. But in this case it is no longer +a secret. It has now been proved that the active principle of this +poison is aconite.” + +“If that is the case,” broke in Doctor Leslie, “it is hopeless to +connect anyone directly in that way with these murders. There is no +test for aconitin.” + +I thought Sato’s face was more composed and impassive than ever. Doctor +Bernardo, however, was plainly excited. + +“What—no test—_none?_” asked Kennedy, leaning forward eagerly. Then, as +if he could restrain the answer to his own question no longer, he shot +out: “How about the new starch test just discovered by Professor +Reichert, of the University of Pennsylvania? Doubtless you never +dreamed that starch may be a means of detecting the nature of a poison +in obscure cases in criminology, especially in cases where the quantity +of poison necessary to cause death is so minute that no trace of it can +be found in the blood. + +“The starch method is a new and extremely inviting subject to me. The +peculiarities of the starch of any plant are quite as distinctive of +the plant as are those of the hemoglobin crystals in the blood of an +animal. I have analyzed the evidence of my microscope in this case +thoroughly. When the arrow poison is introduced subcutaneously—say, by +a person shooting a poisoned dart, which he afterward removes in order +to destroy the evidence—the lethal constituents are rapidly absorbed. + +“But the starch remains in the wound. It can be recovered and studied +microscopically and can be definitely recognized. Doctor Reichert has +published a study of twelve hundred such starches from all sorts of +plants. In this case, it not only proves to be aconitin but the starch +granules themselves can be recognized. They came from this piece of +arrow poison.” + +Every eye was fixed on him now. + +“Besides,” he rapped out, “in the soft soil beneath the window of +Professor Northrop’s room, I found footprints. I have only to compare +the impressions I took there and those of the people in this room, to +prove that, while the real murderer stood guard below the window, he +sent some one more nimble up the rain pipe to shoot the poisoned dart +at Professor Northrop, and, later, to let down a rope by which he, the +instigator, could gain the room, remove the dart, and obtain the key to +the treasure he sought.” + +Kennedy was looking straight at Professor Bernardo. + +“A friend of mine in Mexico has written me about an inscription,” he +burst out. “I received the letter only to-day. As nearly as I can +gather, there was an impression that some of Northrop’s stuff would be +valuable in proving the alleged kinship between Mexico and Japan, +perhaps to arouse hatred of the United States.” + +“Yes—that is all very well,” insisted Kennedy. “But how about the +treasure?” + +“Treasure?” repeated Bernardo, looking from one of us to another. + +“Yes,” pursued Craig relentlessly, “the treasure. You are an expert in +reading the hieroglyphics. By your own statement, you and Northrop had +been going over the stuff he had sent up. You know it.” + +Bernardo gave a quick glance from Kennedy to me. Evidently he saw that +the secret was out. + +“Yes,” he said huskily, in a low tone, “Northrop and I were to follow +the directions after we had plotted them out and were to share it +together on the next expedition, which I could direct as a Mexican +without so much suspicion. I should still have shared it with his widow +if this unfortunate affair had not exposed the secret.” + +Bernardo had risen earnestly. + +“Kennedy,” he cried, “before God, if you will get back that stone and +keep the secret from going further than this room, I will prove what I +have said by dividing the Mixtec treasure with Mrs. Northrop and making +her one of the richest widows in the country!” + +“That is what I wanted to be sure of,” nodded Craig. “Bernardo, Señora +Herreria, of whom your friend wrote to you from Mexico, has been +murdered in the same way that Professor Northrop was. Otaka was sent by +her husband to murder Northrop, in order that they might obtain the +so-called ‘Pillar of Death’ and the key to the treasure. Then, when the +_señora_ was no doubt under the influence of _sake_ in the pretty +little Oriental bower at the curio shop, a quick jab, and Otaka had +removed one who shared the secret with them.” + +He had turned and faced the pair. + +“Sato,” he added, “you played on the patriotism of the _señora_ until +you wormed from her the treasure secret. Evidently rumors of it had +spread from Mexican Indians to Japanese visitors. And then, Otaka, all +jealousy over one whom she, no doubt, justly considered a rival, +completed your work by sending her forth to die, unknown, on the +street. Walter, ring up First Deputy O’Connor. The stone is hidden +somewhere in the curio shop. We can find it without Sato’s help. The +quicker such a criminal is lodged safely in jail, the better for +humanity.” + +Sato was on his feet, advancing cautiously toward Craig. I knew the +dangers, now, of _anno-noki_, as well as the wonders of _jujutsu_, and, +with a leap, I bounded past Bernardo and between Sato and Kennedy. + +How it happened, I don’t know, but, an instant later, I was sprawling. + +Before I could recover myself, before even Craig had a chance to pull +the hair-trigger of his automatic, Sato had seized the Ainu arrow +poison from the table, had bitten the little cylinder in half, and had +crammed the other half into the mouth of Otaka. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII +THE RADIUM ROBBER + + +Kennedy simply reached for the telephone and called an ambulance. But +it was purely perfunctory. Dr. Leslie himself was the only official who +could handle Sato’s case now. + +We had planned a little vacation for ourselves, but the planning came +to naught. The next night we spent on a sleeper. That in itself is work +to me. + +It all came about through a hurried message from Murray Denison, +president of the Federal Radium Corporation. Nothing would do but that +he should take both Kennedy and myself with him post-haste to +Pittsburgh at the first news of what had immediately been called “the +great radium robbery.” + +Of course the newspapers were full of it. The very novelty of an +ultra-modern cracksman going off with something worth upward of a +couple of hundred thousand dollars—and all contained in a few platinum +tubes which could be tucked away in a vest pocket—had something about +it powerfully appealing to the imagination. + +“Most ingenious, but, you see, the trouble with that safe is that it +was built to keep radium _in_—not cracksmen _out_,” remarked Kennedy, +when Denison had rushed us from the train to take a look at the little +safe in the works of the Corporation. + +“Breaking into such a safe as this,” added Kennedy, after a cursory +examination, “is simple enough, after all.” + +It was, however, a remarkably ingenious contrivance, about three feet +in height and of a weight of perhaps a ton and a half, and all to house +something weighing only a few grains. + +“But,” Denison hastened to explain, “we had to protect the radium not +only against burglars, but, so to speak, against itself. Radium +emanations pass through steel and experiments have shown that the best +metal to contain them is lead. So, the difficulty was solved by making +a steel outer case enclosing an inside leaden shell three inches +thick.” + +Kennedy had been toying thoughtfully with the door. + +“Then the door, too, had to be contrived so as to prevent any escape of +the emanations through joints. It is lathe turned and circular, a ‘dead +fit.’ By means of a special contrivance any slight looseness caused by +wear and tear of closing can be adjusted. And another feature. That is +the appliance for preventing the loss of emanation when the door is +opened. Two valves have been inserted into the door and before it is +opened tubes with mercury are passed through which collect and store +the emanation.” + +“All very nice for the radium,” remarked Craig cheerfully. “But the +fellow had only to use an electric drill and the gram or more of radium +was his.” + +“I know that—now,” ruefully persisted Denison. “But the safe was +designed for us specially. The fellow got into it and got away, as far +as I can see, without leaving a clue.” + +“Except one, of course,” interrupted Kennedy quickly. + +Denison looked at him a moment keenly, then nodded and said, “Yes—you +are right. You mean one which he must bear on himself?” + +“Exactly. You can’t carry a gram or more of radium bromide long with +impunity. The man to look for is one who in a few days will have +somewhere on his body a radium burn which will take months to heal. The +very thing he stole is a veritable Frankenstein’s monster bent on the +destruction of the thief himself!” + +Kennedy had meanwhile picked up one of the Corporation’s circulars +lying on a desk. He ran his eye down the list of names. + +“So, Hartley Haughton, the broker, is one of your stockholders,” mused +Kennedy. + +“Not only one but _the_ one,” replied Denison with obvious pride. + +Haughton was a young man who had come recently into his fortune, and, +while no one believed it to be large, he had cut quite a figure in Wall +Street. + +“You know, I suppose,” added Denison, “that he is engaged to Felicie +Woods, the daughter of Mrs. Courtney Woods?” + +Kennedy did not, but said nothing. + +“A most delightful little girl,” continued Denison thoughtfully. “I +have known Mrs. Woods for some time. She wanted to invest, but I told +her frankly that this is, after all, a speculation. We may not be able +to swing so big a proposition, but, if not, no one can say we have +taken a dollar of money from widows and orphans.” + +“I should like to see the works,” nodded Kennedy approvingly. + +“By all means.” + +The plant was a row of long low buildings of brick on the outskirts of +the city, once devoted to the making of vanadium steel. The ore, as +Denison explained, was brought to Pittsburgh because he had found here +already a factory which could readily be turned into a plant for the +extraction of radium. Huge baths and vats and crucibles for the various +acids and alkalis and other processes used in treating the ore stood at +various points. + +“This must be like extracting gold from sea water,” remarked Kennedy +jocosely, impressed by the size of the plant as compared to the +product. + +“Except that after we get through we have something infinitely more +precious than gold,” replied Denison, “something which warrants the +trouble and outlay. Yes, the fact is that the percentage of radium in +all such ores is even less than of gold in sea water.” + +“Everything seems to be most carefully guarded,” remarked Kennedy as we +concluded our tour of the well-appointed works. + +He had gone over everything in silence, and now at last we had returned +to the safe. + +“Yes,” he repeated slowly, as if confirming his original impression, +“such an amount of radium as was stolen wouldn’t occasion immediate +discomfort to the thief, I suppose, but later no infernal machine could +be more dangerous to him.” + +I pictured to myself the series of fearful works of mischief and terror +that might follow, a curse on the thief worse than that of the weirdest +curses of the Orient, the danger to the innocent, and the fact that in +the hands of a criminal it was an instrument for committing crimes that +might defy detection. + +“There is nothing more to do here now,” he concluded. “I can see +nothing for the present except to go back to New York. The telltale +burn may not be the only clue, but if the thief is going to profit by +his spoils we shall hear about it best in New York or by cable from +London, Paris, or some other European city.” + +Our hurried departure from New York had not given us a chance to visit +the offices of the Radium Corporation for the distribution of the salts +themselves. They were in a little old office building on William +Street, near the drug district and yet scarcely a moment’s walk from +the financial district. + +“Our head bookkeeper, Miss Wallace, is ill,” remarked Denison when we +arrived at the office, “but if there is anything I can do to help you, +I shall be glad to do it. We depend on Miss Wallace a great deal. +Haughton says she is the brains of the office.” + +Kennedy looked about the well-appointed suite curiously. + +“Is this another of those radium safes?” he asked, approaching one +similar in appearance to that which had been broken open already. + +“Yes, only a little larger.” + +“How much is in it?” + +“Most of our supply. I should say about two and a half grams. Miss +Wallace has the record.” + +“It is of the same construction, I presume,” pursued Kennedy. “I wonder +whether the lead lining fits closely to the steel?” + +“I think not,” considered Denison. “As I remember there was a sort of +insulating air cushion or something of the sort.” + +Denison was quite eager to show us about. In fact ever since he had +hustled us out to view the scene of the robbery, his high nervous +tension had given us scarcely a moment’s rest. For hours he had talked +radium, until I felt that he, like his metal, must have an +inexhaustible emanation of words. He was one of those nervous, active +little men, a born salesman, whether of ribbons or radium. + +“We have just gone into furnishing radium water,” he went on, bustling +about and patting a little glass tank. + +I looked closely and could see that the water glowed in the dark with a +peculiar phosphorescence. + +“The apparatus for the treatment,” he continued, “consists of two glass +and porcelain receptacles. Inside the larger receptacle is placed the +smaller, which contains a tiny quantity of radium. Into the larger +receptacle is poured about a gallon of filtered water. The emanation +from that little speck of radium is powerful enough to penetrate its +porcelain holder and charge the water with its curative properties. +From a tap at the bottom of the tank the patient draws the number of +glasses of water a day prescribed. For such purposes the emanation +within a day or two of being collected is as good as radium itself. +Why, this water is five thousand times as radioactive as the most +radioactive natural spring water.” + +“You must have control of a comparatively large amount of the metal,” +suggested Kennedy. + +“We are, I believe, the largest holders of radium in the world,” he +answered. “I have estimated that all told there are not much more than +ten grams, of which Madame Curie has perhaps three, while Sir Ernest +Cassel of London is the holder of perhaps as much. We have nearly four +grams, leaving about six or seven for the rest of the world.” + +Kennedy nodded and continued to look about. + +“The Radium Corporation,” went on Denison, “has several large deposits +of radioactive ore in Utah in what is known as the Poor Little Rich +Valley, a valley so named because from being about the barrenest and +most unproductive mineral or agricultural hole in the hills, the sudden +discovery of the radioactive deposits has made it almost priceless.” + +He had entered a private office and was looking over some mail that had +been left on his desk during his absence. + +“Look at this,” he called, picking up a clipping from a newspaper which +had been laid there for his attention. “You see, we have them aroused.” + +We read the clipping together hastily: + +PLAN TO CORNER WORLD’S RADIUM + + +LONDON.—Plans are being matured to form a large corporation for the +monopoly of the existing and future supply of radium throughout the +world. The company is to be called Universal Radium, Limited, and the +capital of ten million dollars will be offered for public subscription +at par simultaneously in London, Paris and New York. + +The company’s business will be to acquire mines and deposits of +radioactive substances as well as the control of patents and processes +connected with the production of radium. The outspoken purpose of the +new company is to obtain a world-wide monopoly and maintain the price. + +“Ah—a competitor,” commented Kennedy, handing back the clipping. + +“Yes. You know radium salts used always to come from Europe. Now we are +getting ready to do some exporting ourselves. Say,” he added excitedly, +“there’s an idea, possibly, in that.” + +“How?” queried Craig. + +“Why, since we should be the principal competitors to the foreign +mines, couldn’t this robbery have been due to the machinations of these +schemers? To my mind, the United States, because of its supply of +radium-bearing ores, will have to be reckoned with first in cornering +the market. This is the point, Kennedy. Would those people who seem to +be trying to extend their new company all over the world stop at +anything in order to cripple us at the start?” + +How much longer Denison would have rattled on in his effort to explain +the robbery, I do not know. The telephone rang and a reporter from the +_Record_, who had just read my own story in the _Star_, asked for an +interview. I knew that it would be only a question of minutes now +before the other men were wearing a path out on the stairs, and we +managed to get away before the onrush began. + +“Walter,” said Kennedy, as soon as we had reached the street. “I want +to get in touch with Halsey Haughton. How can it be done?” + +I could think of nothing better at that moment than to inquire at the +_Star’s_ Wall Street office, which happened to be around the corner. I +knew the men down there intimately, and a few minutes later we were +whisked up in the elevator to the office. + +They were as glad to see me as I was to see them, for the story of the +robbery had interested the financial district perhaps more than any +other. + +“Where can I find Halsey Haughton at this hour?” I asked. + +“Say,” exclaimed one of the men, “what’s the matter? There have been +all kinds of rumors in the Street about him to-day. Did you know he was +ill?” + +“No,” I answered. “Where is he?” + +“Out at the home of his fiancee, who is the daughter of Mrs. Courtney +Woods, at Glenclair.” + +“What’s the matter?” I persisted. + +“That’s just it. No one seems to know. They say—well—they say he has a +cancer.” + +Halsey Haughton suffering from cancer? It was such an uncommon thing to +hear of a young man that I looked up quickly in surprise. Then all at +once it flashed over me that Denison and Kennedy had discussed the +matter of burns from the stolen radium. Might not this be, instead of +cancer, a radium burn? + +Kennedy, who had been standing a little apart from me while I was +talking with the boys, signaled to me with a quick glance not to say +too much, and a few minutes later we were on the street again. + +I knew without being told that he was bound by the next train to the +pretty little New Jersey suburb of Glenclair. + +It was late when we arrived, yet Kennedy had no hesitation in calling +at the quaint home of Mrs. Courtney Woods on Woodridge Avenue. + +Mrs. Woods, a well-set-up woman of middle age, who had retained her +youth and good looks in a remarkable manner, met us in the foyer. +Briefly, Kennedy explained that we had just come in from Pittsburgh +with Mr. Denison and that it was very important that we should see +Haughton at once. + +We had hardly told her the object of our visit when a young woman of +perhaps twenty-two or three, a very pretty girl, with all the good +looks of her mother and a freshness which only youth can possess, +tiptoed quietly downstairs. Her face told plainly that she was deeply +worried over the illness of her fiance. + +“Who is it, mother?” she whispered from the turn in the stairs. “Some +gentlemen from the company? Hartley’s door was open when the bell rang, +and he thought he heard something said about the Pittsburgh affair.” + +Though she had whispered, it had not been for the purpose of concealing +anything from us, but rather that the keen ears of her patient might +not catch the words. She cast an inquiring glance at us. + +“Yes,” responded Kennedy in answer to her look, modulating his tone. +“We have just left Mr. Denison at the office. Might we see Mr. Haughton +for a moment? I am sure that nothing we can say or do will be as bad +for him as our going away, now that he knows that we are here.” + +The two women appeared to consult for a moment. + +“Felicie,” called a rather nervous voice from the second floor, “is it +some one from the company?” + +“Just a moment, Hartley,” she answered, then, lower to her mother, +added, “I don’t think it can do any harm, do you, mother?” + +“You remember the doctor’s orders, my dear.” + +Again the voice called her. + +“Hang the doctor’s orders,” the girl exclaimed, with an air of almost +masculinity. “It can’t be half so bad as to have him worry. Will you +promise not to stay long? We expect Dr. Bryant in a few moments, +anyway.” + + + + +CHAPTER XIV +THE SPINTHARISCOPE + + +We followed her upstairs and into Haughton’s room, where he was lying +in bed, propped up by pillows. Haughton certainly was ill. There was no +mistake about that. He was a tall, gaunt man with an air about him that +showed that he found illness very irksome. Around his neck was a +bandage, and some adhesive tape at the back showed that a plaster of +some sort had been placed there. + +As we entered his eyes traveled restlessly from the face of the girl to +our own in an inquiring manner. He stretched out a nervous hand to us, +while Kennedy in a few short sentences explained how we had become +associated with the case and what we had seen already. + +“And there is not a clue?” he repeated as Craig finished. + +“Nothing tangible yet,” reiterated Kennedy. “I suppose you have heard +of this rumor from London of a trust that is going into the radium +field internationally?” + +“Yes,” he answered, “that is the thing you read to me in the morning +papers, you remember, Felicie. Denison and I have heard such rumors +before. If it is a fight, then we shall give them a fight. They can’t +hold us up, if Denison is right in thinking that they are at the bottom +of this—this robbery.” + +“Then you think he may be right?” shot out Kennedy quickly. + +Haughton glanced nervously from Kennedy to me. + +“Really,” he answered, “you see how impossible it is for me to have an +opinion? You and Denison have been over the ground. You know much more +about it than I do. I am afraid I shall have to defer to you.” + +Again we heard the bell downstairs, and a moment later a cheery voice, +as Mrs. Woods met some one down in the foyer, asked, “How is the +patient to-night?” + +We could not catch the reply. + +“Dr. Bryant, my physician,” put in Haughton. “Don’t go. I will assume +the responsibility for your being here. Hello, Doctor. Why, I’m much +the same to-night, thank you. At least no worse since I took your +advice and went to bed.” + +Dr. Bryant was a bluff, hearty man, with the personal magnetism which +goes with the making of a successful physician. He had mounted the +stairs quietly but rapidly, evidently prepared to see us. + +“Would you mind waiting in this little dressing room?” asked the +doctor, motioning to another, smaller room adjoining. + +He had taken from his pocket a little instrument with a dial face like +a watch, which he attached to Haughton’s wrist. “A pocket instrument to +measure blood pressure,” whispered Craig, as we entered the little +room. + +While the others were gathered about Haughton, we stood in the next +room, out of earshot. Kennedy had leaned his elbow on a chiffonier. As +he looked about the little room, more from force of habit than because +he thought he might discover anything, Kennedy’s eye rested on a glass +tray on the top in which lay some pins, a collar button or two, which +Haughton had apparently just taken off, and several other little +unimportant articles. + +Kennedy bent over to look at the glass tray more closely, a puzzled +look crossed his face, and with a glance at the other room he gathered +up the tray and its contents. + +“Keep up a good courage,” said Dr. Bryant. “You’ll come out all right, +Haughton.” Then as he left the bedroom he added to us, “Gentlemen, I +hope you will pardon me, but if you could postpone the remainder of +your visit until a later day, I am sure you will find it more +satisfactory.” + +There was an air of finality about the doctor, though nothing +unpleasant in it. We followed him down the stairs, and as we did so, +Felicie, who had been waiting in a reception room, appeared before the +portieres, her earnest eyes fixed on his kindly face. + +“Dr. Bryant,” she appealed, “is he—is he, really—so badly?” + +The Doctor, who had apparently known her all her life, reached down and +took one of her hands, patting it with his own in a fatherly way. +“Don’t worry, little girl,” he encouraged. “We are going to come out +all right—all right.” + +She turned from him to us and, with a bright forced smile which showed +the stuff she was made of, bade us good night. + +Outside, the Doctor, apparently regretting that he had virtually forced +us out, paused before his car. “Are you going down toward the station? +Yes? I am going that far. I should be glad to drive you there.” + +Kennedy climbed into the front seat, leaving me in the rear where the +wind wafted me their brief conversation as we sped down Woodbridge +Avenue. + +“What seems to be the trouble?” asked Craig. + +“Very high blood pressure, for one thing,” replied the Doctor frankly. + +“For which the latest thing is the radium water cure, I suppose?” +ventured Kennedy. + +“Well, radioactive water is one cure for hardening of the arteries. But +I didn’t say he had hardening of the arteries. Still, he is taking the +water, with good results. You are from the company?” + +Kennedy nodded. + +“It was the radium water that first interested him in it. Why, we found +a pressure of 230 pounds, which is frightful, and we have brought it +down to 150, not far from normal.” + +“Still that could have nothing to do with the sore on his neck,” +hazarded Kennedy. + +The Doctor looked at him quickly, then ahead at the path of light which +his motor shed on the road. + +He said nothing, but I fancied that even he felt there was something +strange in his silence over the new complication. He did not give +Kennedy a chance to ask whether there were any other such sores. + +“At any rate,” he said, as he throttled down his engine with a flourish +before the pretty little Glenclair station, “that girl needn’t worry.” + +There was evidently no use in trying to extract anything further from +him. He had said all that medical ethics or detective skill could get +from him. We thanked him and turned to the ticket window to see how +long we should have to wait. + +“Either that doctor doesn’t know what he is talking about or he is +concealing something,” remarked Craig, as we paced up and down the +platform. “I am inclined to read the enigma in the latter way.” + +Nothing more passed between us during the journey back, and we hurried +directly to the laboratory, late as it was. Kennedy had evidently been +revolving something over and over in his mind, for the moment he had +switched on the light, he unlocked one of his air-and dust-proof +cabinets and took from it an instrument which he placed on a table +before him. + +It was a peculiar-looking instrument, like a round glass electric +battery with a cylinder atop, smaller and sticking up like a safety +valve. On that were an arm, a dial, and a lens fixed in such a way as +to read the dial. I could not see what else the rather complicated +little apparatus consisted of, but inside, when Kennedy brought near it +the pole of a static electric machine two delicate thin leaves of gold +seemed to fly wide apart when it was charged. + +Kennedy had brought the glass tray near the thing. Instantly the leaves +collapsed and he made a reading through the lens. + +“What is it?” I asked. + +“A radioscope,” he replied, still observing the scale. “Really a very +sensitive gold leaf electroscope, devised by one of the students of +Madame Curie. This method of detection is far more sensitive even than +the spectroscope.” + +“What does it mean when the leaves collapse?” I asked. + +“Radium has been near that tray,” he answered. “It is radioactive. I +suspected it first when I saw that violet color. That is what radium +does to that kind of glass. You see, if radium exists in a gram of +inactive matter only to the extent of one in ten-thousand million parts +its presence can be readily detected by this radioscope, and everything +that has been rendered radioactive is the same. Ordinarily the air +between the gold leaves is insulating. Bringing something radioactive +near them renders the air a good conductor and the leaves fall under +the radiation.” + +“Wonderful!” I exclaimed, marveling at the delicacy of it. + +“Take radium water,” he went on, “sufficiently impregnated with radium +emanations to be luminous in the dark, like that water of Denison’s. It +would do the same. In fact all mineral waters and the so-called +curarive muds like fango are slightly radioactive. There seems to be a +little radium everywhere on earth that experiments have been made, even +in the interiors of buildings. It is ubiquitous. We are surrounded and +permeated by radiations—that soil out there on the campus, the air of +this room, all. But,” he added contemplatively, “there is something +different about that tray. A lot of radium has been near that, and +recently.” + +“How about that bandage about Haughton’s neck?” I asked suddenly. “Do +you think radium could have had anything to do with that?” “Well, as to +burns, there is no particular immediate effect usually, and sometimes +even up to two weeks or more, unless the exposure has been long and to +a considerable quantity. Of course radium keeps itself three or four +degrees warmer than other things about it constantly. But that isn’t +what does the harm. It is continually emitting little corpuscles, which +I’ll explain some other time, traveling all the way from twenty to one +hundred and thirty thousand miles a second, and these corpuscles +blister and corrode the flesh like quick-moving missiles bombarding it. +The gravity of such lesions increases with the purity of the radium. +For instance I have known an exposure of half an hour to a +comparatively small quantity through a tube, a box and the clothes to +produce a blister fifteen days later. Curie said he wouldn’t trust +himself in a room with a kilogram of it. It would destroy his eyesight, +burn off his skin and kill him eventually. Why, even after a slight +exposure your clothes are radioactive—the electroscope will show that.” + +He was still fumbling with the glass plate and the various articles on +it. + +“There’s something very peculiar about all this,” he muttered, almost +to himself. + +Tired by the quick succession of events of the past two days, I left +Kennedy still experimenting in his laboratory and retired, still +wondering when the real clue was to develop. Who could it have been who +bore the tell-tale burn? Was the mark hidden by the bandage about +Haughton’s neck the brand of the stolen tubes? Or were there other +marks on his body which we could not see? + +No answer came to me, and I fell asleep and woke up without a radiation +of light on the subject. Kennedy spent the greater part of the day +still at work at his laboratory, performing some very delicate +experiments. Finding nothing to do there, I went down to the _Star_ +office and spent my time reading the reports that came in from the +small army of reporters who had been assigned to run down clues in the +case which was the sensation of the moment. I have always felt my own +lips sealed in such cases, until the time came that the story was +complete and Kennedy released me from any further need of silence. The +weird and impossible stories which came in not only to the _Star_ but +to the other papers surely did make passable copy in this instance, but +with my knowledge of the case I could see that not one of them brought +us a step nearer the truth. + +One thing which uniformly puzzled the newspapers was the illness of +Haughton and his enforced idleness at a time which was of so much +importance to the company which he had promoted and indeed very largely +financed. Then, of course, there was the romantic side of his +engagement to Felicie Woods. + +Just what connection Felicie Woods had with the radium robbery if any, +I was myself unable quite to fathom. Still, that made no difference to +the papers. She was pretty and therefore they published her picture, +three columns deep, with Haughton and Denison, who were intimately +concerned with the real loss in little ovals perhaps an inch across and +two inches in the opposite dimension. + +The late afternoon news editions had gone to press, and I had given up +in despair, determined to go up to the laboratory and sit around idly +watching Kennedy with his mystifying experiments, in preference to +waiting for him to summon me. + +I had scarcely arrived and settled myself to an impatient watch, when +an automobile drove up furiously, and Denison himself, very excited, +jumped out and dashed into the laboratory. + +[Illustration] Denison himself, very excited, jumped out and dashed +into the laboratory. + + +“What’s the matter?” asked Kennedy, looking up from a test tube which +he had been examining, with an air for all the world expressive of “Why +so hot, little man?” + +“I’ve had a threat,” ejaculated Denison. + +He laid on one of the laboratory tables a letter, without heading and +without signature, written in a disguised hand, with an evident attempt +to simulate the cramped script of a foreign penmanship. + +“I know who did the Pittsburgh job. The same party is out to ruin +Federal Radium. Remember Pittsburgh and be prepared! + + +“A STOCKHOLDER.” + + +“Well?” demanded Kennedy, looking up. + +“That can have only one meaning,” asserted Denison. + +“What is that?” inquired Kennedy coolly, as if to confirm his own +interpretation. + +“Why, another robbery—here in New York, of course.” + +“But who would do it?” I asked. + +“Who?” repeated Denison. “Some one representing that European combine, +of course. That is only part of the Trust method—ruin of competitors +whom they cannot absorb.” + +“Then you have refused to go into the combine? You know who is backing +it?” + +“No—no,” admitted Denison reluctantly. “We have only signified our +intent to go it alone, as often as anyone either with or without +authority has offered to buy us out. No, I do not even know who the +people are. They never act in the open. The only hints I have ever +received were through perfectly reputable brokers acting for others.” + +“Does Haughton know of this note?” asked Kennedy. + +“Yes. As soon as I received it, I called him up.” + +“What did he say?” + +“He said to disregard it. But—you know what condition he is in. I don’t +know what to do, whether to surround the office by a squad of +detectives or remove the radium to a regular safety deposit vault, even +at the loss of the emanation. Haughton has left it to me.” + +Suddenly the thought flashed across my mind that perhaps Haughton could +act in this uninterested fashion because he had no fear of ruin either +way. Might he not be playing a game with the combination in which he +had protected himself so that he would win, no matter what happened? + +“What shall I do?” asked Denison. “It is getting late.” + +“Neither,” decided Kennedy. + +Denison shook his head. “No,” he said, “I shall have some one watch +there, anyhow.” + + + + +CHAPTER XV +THE ASPHYXIATING SAFE + + +Denison had scarcely gone to arrange for some one to watch the office +that night, when Kennedy, having gathered up his radioscope and packed +into a parcel a few other things from various cabinets, announced: +“Walter, I must see that Miss Wallace, right away. Denison has already +given me her address. Call a cab while I finish clearing up here. I +don’t like the looks of this thing, even if Haughton does neglect it.” + +We found Miss Wallace at a modest boarding-house in an old but still +respectable part of the city. She was a very pretty girl, of the +slender type, rather a business woman than one given much to amusement. +She had been ill and was still ill. That was evident from the +solicitous way in which the motherly landlady scrutinized two strange +callers. + +Kennedy presented a card from Denison, and she came down to the parlor +to see us. + +“Miss Wallace,” began Kennedy, “I know it is almost cruel to trouble +you when you are not feeling like office work, but since the robbery of +the safe at Pittsburgh, there have been threats of a robbery of the New +York office.” + +She started involuntarily, and it was evident, I thought, that she was +in a very high-strung state. + +“Oh,” she cried, “why, the loss means ruin to Mr. Denison!” + +There were genuine tears in her eyes as she said it. + +“I thought you would be willing to aid us,” pursued Kennedy +sympathetically. “Now, for one thing, I want to be perfectly sure just +how much radium the Corporation owns, or rather owned before the first +robbery.” + +“The books will show it,” she said simply. + +“They will?” commented Kennedy. “Then if you will explain to me briefly +just the system you used in keeping account of it, perhaps I need not +trouble you any more.” + +“I’ll go down there with you,” she answered bravely. “I’m better +to-day, anyhow, I think.” + +She had risen, but it was evident that she was not as strong as she +wanted us to think. + +“The least I can do is to make it as easy as possible by going in a +car,” remarked Kennedy, following her into the hall where there was a +telephone. + +The hallway was perfectly dark, yet as she preceded us I could see that +the diamond pin which held her collar in the back sparkled as if a +lighted candle had been brought near it. I had noticed in the parlor +that she wore a handsome tortoiseshell comb set with what I thought +were other brilliants, but when I looked I saw now that there was not +the same sparkle to the comb which held her dark hair in a soft mass. I +noticed these little things at the time, not because I thought they had +any importance, but merely by chance, wondering at the sparkle of the +one diamond which had caught my eye. + +“What do you make of her?” I asked as Kennedy finished telephoning. + +“A very charming and capable girl,” he answered noncommittally. + +“Did you notice how that diamond in her neck sparkled?” I asked +quickly. + +He nodded. Evidently it had attracted his attention, too. + +“What makes it?” I pursued. + +“Well, you know radium rays will make a diamond fluoresce in the dark.” + +“Yes,” I objected, “but how about those in the comb?” + +“Paste, probably,” he answered tersely, as we heard her foot on the +landing. “The rays won’t affect paste.” + +It was indeed a shame to take advantage of Miss Wallace’s loyalty to +Denison, but she was so game about it that I knew only the utmost +necessity on Kennedy’s part would have prompted him to do it. She had a +key to the office so that it was not necessary to wait for Denison, if +indeed we could have found him. + +Together she and Kennedy went over the records. It seemed that there +were in the safe twenty-five platinum tubes of one hundred milligrams +each, and that there had been twelve of the same amount at Pittsburgh. +Little as it seemed in weight it represented a fabulous fortune. + +“You have not the combination?” inquired Kennedy. + +“No. Only Mr. Denison has that. What are you going to do to protect the +safe to-night?” she asked. + +“Nothing especially,” evaded Kennedy. + +“Nothing?” she repeated in amazement. + +“I have another plan,” he said, watching her intently. “Miss Wallace, +it was too much to ask you to come down here. You are ill.” + +She was indeed quite pale, as if the excitement had been an +overexertion. + +“No, indeed,” she persisted. Then, feeling her own weakness, she moved +toward the door of Denison’s office where there was a leather couch. +“Let me rest here a moment. I do feel queer. I—” + +She would have fallen if he had not sprung forward and caught her as +she sank to the floor, overcome by the exertion. + +Together we carried her in to the couch, and as we did so the comb from +her hair clattered to the floor. + +Craig threw open the window, and bathed her face with water until there +was a faint flutter of the eyelids. + +“Walter,” he said, as she began to revive, “I leave her to you. Keep +her quiet for a few moments. She has unintentionally given me just the +opportunity I want.” + +While she was yet hovering between consciousness and unconsciousness on +the couch, he had unwrapped the package which he had brought with him. +For a moment he held the comb which she had dropped near the +radioscope. With a low exclamation of surprise he shoved it into his +pocket. + +Then from the package he drew a heavy piece of apparatus which looked +as if it might be the motor part of an electric fan, only in place of +the fan he fitted a long, slim, vicious-looking steel bit. A flexible +wire attached the thing to the electric light circuit and I knew that +it was an electric drill. With his coat off he tugged at the little +radium safe until he had moved it out, then dropped on his knees behind +it and switched the current on in the electric drill. + +It was a tedious process to drill through the steel of the outer casing +of the safe and it was getting late. I shut the door to the office so +that Miss Wallace could not see. + +At last by the cessation of the low hum of the boring, I knew that he +had struck the inner lead lining. Quietly I opened the door and stepped +out. He was injecting something from an hermetically sealed lead tube +into the opening he had made and allowing it to run between the two +linings of lead and steel. Then using the tube itself he sealed the +opening he had made and dabbed a little black over it. + +Quickly he shoved the safe back, then around it concealed several small +coils with wires also concealed and leading out through a window to a +court. + +“We’ll catch the fellow this time,” he remarked as he worked. “If you +ever have any idea, Walter, of going into the burglary business, it +would be well to ascertain if the safes have any of these little +selenium cells as suggested by my friend, Mr. Hammer, the inventor. For +by them an alarm can be given miles away the moment an intruder’s +bull’s-eye falls on a hidden cell sensitive to light.” + +While I was delegated to take Miss Wallace home, Kennedy made +arrangements with a small shopkeeper on the ground floor of a building +that backed up on the court for the use of his back room that night, +and had already set up a bell actuated by a system of relays which the +weak current from the selenium cells could operate. + +It was not until nearly midnight that he was ready to leave the +laboratory again, where he had been busily engaged in studying the +tortoiseshell comb which Miss Wallace in her weakness had forgotten. + +The little shopkeeper let us in sleepily and Kennedy deposited a large +round package on a chair in the back of the shop, as well as a long +piece of rubber tubing. Nothing had happened so far. + +As we waited the shopkeeper, now wide awake and not at all unconvinced +that we were bent on some criminal operation, hung around. Kennedy did +not seem to care. He drew from his pocket a little shiny brass +instrument in a lead case, which looked like an abbreviated microscope. + +“Look through it,” he said, handing it to me. + +I looked and could see thousands of minute sparks. + +“What is it?” I asked. + +“A spinthariscope. In that it is possible to watch the bombardment of +the countless little corpuscles thrown off by radium, as they strike on +the zinc blende crystal which forms the base. When radium was +originally discovered, the interest was merely in its curious +properties, its power to emit invisible rays which penetrated solid +substances and rendered things fluorescent, of expending energy without +apparent loss. + +“Then came the discovery,” he went on, “of its curative powers. But the +first results were not convincing. Still, now that we know the reasons +why radium may be dangerous and how to protect ourselves against them +we know we possess one of the most wonderful of curative agencies.” + +I was thinking rather of the dangers than of the beneficence of radium +just now, but Kennedy continued. + +“It has cured many malignant growths that seemed hopeless, brought back +destroyed cells, exercised good effects in diseases of the liver and +intestines and even the baffling diseases of the arteries. The reason +why harm, at first, as well as good came, is now understood. Radium +emits, as I told you before, three kinds of rays, the alpha, beta, and +gamma rays, each with different properties. The emanation is another +matter. It does not concern us in this case, as you will see.” + +Fascinated as I was by the mystery of the case, I began to see that he +was gradually arriving at an explanation which had baffled everyone +else. + +“Now, the alpha rays are the shortest,” he launched forth, “in length +let us say one inch. They exert a very destructive effect on healthy +tissue. That is the cause of injury. They are stopped by glass, +aluminum and other metals, and are really particles charged with +positive electricity. The beta rays come next, say, about an inch and a +half. They stimulate cell growth. Therefore they are dangerous in +cancer, though good in other ways. They can be stopped by lead, and are +really particles charged with negative electricity. The gamma rays are +the longest, perhaps three inches long, and it is these rays which +effect cures, for they check the abnormal and stimulate the normal +cells. They penetrate lead. Lead seems to filter them out from the +other rays. And at three inches the other rays don’t reach, anyhow. The +gamma rays are not charged with electricity at all, apparently.” + +He had brought a little magnet near the spinthariscope. I looked into +it. + +“A magnet,” he explained, “shows the difference between the alpha, +beta, and gamma rays. You see those weak and wobbly rays that seem to +fall to one side? Those are the alpha rays. They have a strong action, +though, on tissues and cells. Those falling in the other direction are +the beta rays. The gamma rays seem to flow straight.” + +“Then it is the alpha rays with which we are concerned mostly now?” I +queried, looking up. + +“Exactly. That is why, when radium is unprotected or insufficiently +protected and comes too near, it is destructive of healthy cells, +produces burns, sores, which are most difficult to heal. It is with the +explanation of such sores that we must deal.” + +It was growing late. We had waited patiently now for some time. Kennedy +had evidently reserved this explanation, knowing we should have to +wait. Still nothing happened. + +Added to the mystery of the violet-colored glass plate was now that of +the luminescent diamond. I was about to ask Kennedy point-blank what he +thought of them, when suddenly the little bell before us began to buzz +feebly under the influence of a current. + +I gave a start. The faithful little selenium cell burglar alarm had +done the trick. I knew that selenium was a good conductor of +electricity in the light, poor in the dark. Some one had, therefore, +flashed a light on one of the cells in the Corporation office. It was +the moment for which Kennedy had prepared. + +Seizing the round package and the tubing, he dashed out on the street +and around the corner. He tried the door opening into the Radium +Corporation hallway. It was closed, but unlocked. As it yielded and we +stumbled in, up the old worn wooden stairs of the building, I knew that +there must be some one there. + +A terrific, penetrating, almost stunning odor seemed to permeate the +air even in the hall. + +Kennedy paused at the door of the office, tried it, found it unlocked, +but did not open it. + +“That smell is ethyldichloracetate,” he explained. “That was what I +injected into the air cushion of that safe between the two linings. I +suppose my man here used an electric drill. He might have used thermit +or an oxyacetylene blowpipe for all I would care. These fumes would +discourage a cracksman from ‘soup’ to nuts,” he laughed, thoroughly +pleased at the protection modern science had enabled him to devise. + +As we stood an instant by the door, I realized what had happened. We +had captured our man. He was asphyxiated! + +Yet how were we to get to him? Would Craig leave him in there, perhaps +to die? To go in ourselves meant to share his fate, whatever might be +the effect of the drug. + +Kennedy had torn the wrapping off the package. From it he drew a huge +globe with bulging windows of glass in the front and several curious +arrangements on it at other points. To it he fitted the rubber tubing +and a little pump. Then he placed the globe over his head, like a +diver’s helmet, and fastened some air-tight rubber arrangement about +his neck and shoulders. + +“Pump, Walter!” he shouted. “This is an oxygen helmet such as is used +in entering mines filled with deadly gases.” + +Without another word he was gone into the blackness of the noxious +stifle which filled the Radium Corporation office since the cracksman +had struck the unexpected pocket of rapidly evaporating stuff. + +I pumped furiously. + +Inside I could hear him blundering around. What was he doing? + +He was coming back slowly. Was he, too, overcome? + +As he emerged into the darkness of the hallway where I myself was +almost sickened, I saw that he was dragging with him a limp form. + +A rush of outside air from the street door seemed to clear things a +little. Kennedy tore off the oxygen helmet and dropped down on his +knees beside the figure, working its arms in the most approved manner +of resuscitation. + +“I think we can do it without calling on the pulmotor,” he panted. +“Walter, the fumes have cleared away enough now in the outside office. +Open a window—and keep that street door open, too.” + +I did so, found the switch and turned on the lights. + +It was Denison himself! + +For many minutes Kennedy worked over him. I bent down, loosened his +collar and shirt, and looked eagerly at his chest for the tell-tale +marks of the radium which I felt sure must be there. There was not even +a discoloration. + +Not a word was said, as Kennedy brought the stupefied little man +around. + +Denison, pale, shaken, was leaning back now in a big office chair, +gasping and holding his head. + +Kennedy, before him, reached down into his pocket and handed him the +spinthariscope. + +“You see that?” he demanded. + +Denison looked through the eyepiece. + +“Wh—where did you get so much of it?” he asked, a queer look on his +face. + +“I got that bit of radium from the base of the collar button of Hartley +Haughton,” replied Kennedy quietly, “a collar button which some one +intimate with him had substituted for his own, bringing that deadly +radium with only the minutest protection of a thin strip of metal close +to the back of his neck, near the spinal cord and the medulla oblongata +which controls blood pressure. That collar button was worse than the +poisoned rings of the Borgias. And there is more radium in the pretty +gift of a tortoiseshell comb with its paste diamonds which Miss Wallace +wore in her hair. Only a fraction of an inch, not enough to cut off the +deadly alpha rays, protected the wearers of those articles.” + +He paused a moment, while surging through my mind came one after +another the explanations of the hitherto inexplicable. Denison seemed +almost to cringe in the chair, weak already from the fumes. + +“Besides,” went on Kennedy remorselessly, “when I went in there to drag +you out, I saw the safe open. I looked. There was nothing in those +pretty platinum tubes, as I suspected. European trust—bah! All the +cheap devices of a faker with a confederate in London to send a +cablegram—and another in New York to send a threatening letter.” + +Kennedy extended an accusing forefinger at the man cowering before him. + +“This is nothing but a get-rich-quick scheme, Denison. There never was +a milligram of radium in the Poor Little Rich Valley, not a milligram +here in all the carefully kept reports of Miss Wallace—except what was +bought outside by the Corporation with the money it collected from its +dupes. Haughton has been fleeced. Miss Wallace, blinded by her loyalty +to you—you will always find such a faithful girl in such schemes as +yours—has been fooled. + +“And how did you repay it? What was cleverer, you said to yourself, +than to seem to be robbed of what you never had, to blame it on a +bitter rival who never existed? Then to make assurance doubly sure, you +planned to disable, perhaps get rid of the come-on whom you had +trimmed, and the faithful girl whose eyes you had blinded to your +gigantic swindle. + +“Denison,” concluded Kennedy, as the man drew back, his very face +convicting him, “Denison, you are the radium robber—robber in another +sense!” + + + + +CHAPTER XVI +THE DEAD LINE + + +Maiden Lane, no less than Wall Street, was deeply interested in the +radium case. In fact, it seemed that one case in this section of the +city led to another. + +Naturally, the _Star_ and the other papers made much of the capture of +Denison. Still, I was not prepared for the host of Maiden Lane cases +that followed. Many of them were essentially trivial. But one proved to +be of extreme importance. + +“Professor Kennedy, I have just heard of your radium case, and I—I feel +that I can—trust you.” + +There was a note of appeal in the hesitating voice of the tall, heavily +veiled woman whose card had been sent up to us with a nervous “Urgent” +written across its face. + +It was very early in the morning, but our visitor was evidently +completely unnerved by some news which she had just received and which +had sent her posting to see Craig. + +Kennedy met her gaze directly with a look that arrested her involuntary +effort to avoid it again. She must have read in his eyes more than in +his words that she might trust him. + +“I—I have a confession to make,” she faltered. + +“Please sit down, Mrs. Moulton,” he said simply. “It is my business to +receive confidences—and to keep them.” + +She sank into, rather than sat down in, the deep leather rocker beside +his desk, and now for the first time raised her veil. + +Antoinette Moulton was indeed stunning, an exquisite creature with a +wonderful charm of slender youth, brightness of eye and brunette +radiance. + +I knew that she had been on the musical comedy stage and had had a +rapid rise to a star part before her marriage to Lynn Moulton, the +wealthy lawyer, almost twice her age. I knew also that she had given up +the stage, apparently without a regret. Yet there was something strange +about the air of secrecy of her visit. Was there a hint in it of a +disagreement between the Moultons, I wondered, as I waited while +Kennedy reassured her. + +Her distress was so unconcealed that Craig, for the moment, laid aside +his ordinary inquisitorial manner. “Tell me just as much or just as +little as you choose, Mrs. Moulton,” he added tactfully. “I will do my +best.” + +A look almost of gratitude crossed her face. + +“When we were married,” she began again, “my husband gave me a +beautiful diamond necklace. Oh, it must have been worth a hundred +thousand dollars easily. It was splendid. Everyone has heard of it. You +know, Lynn—er—Mr. Moulton, has always been an enthusiastic collector of +jewels.” + +She paused again and Kennedy nodded reassuringly. I knew the thought in +his mind. Moulton had collected one gem that was incomparable with all +the hundred thousand dollar necklaces in existence. + +“Several months ago.” she went on rapidly, still avoiding his eyes and +forcing the words from her reluctant lips, “I—oh, I needed +money—terribly.” + +She had risen and faced him, pressing her daintily gloved hands +together in a little tremble of emotion which was none the less genuine +because she had studied the art of emotion. + +“I took the necklace to a jeweler, Herman Schloss, of Maiden Lane, a +man with whom my husband had often had dealings and whom I thought I +could trust. Under a promise of secrecy he loaned me fifty thousand +dollars on it and had an exact replica in paste made by one of his best +workmen. This morning, just now, Mr. Schloss telephoned me that his +safe had been robbed last night. My necklace is gone!” + +She threw out her hands in a wildly appealing gesture. + +“And if Lynn finds that the necklace in our wall safe is of paste—as he +will find, for he is an expert in diamonds—oh—what shall I do? Can’t +you—can’t you find my necklace?” + +Kennedy was following her now eagerly. “You were blackmailed out of the +money?” he queried casually, masking his question. + +There was a sudden, impulsive drooping of her mouth, an evasion and +keen wariness in her eyes. “I can’t see that that has anything to do +with the robbery,” she answered in a low voice. + +“I beg your pardon,” corrected Kennedy quickly. “Perhaps not. I’m +sorry. Force of habit, I suppose. You don’t know anything more about +the robbery?” + +“N—no, only that it seems impossible that it could have happened in a +place that has the wonderful burglar alarm protection that Mr. Schloss +described to me.” + +“You know him pretty well?” + +“Only through this transaction,” she replied hastily. “I wish to heaven +I had never heard of him.” + +The telephone rang insistently. + +“Mrs. Moulton,” said Kennedy, as he returned the receiver to the hook, +“it may interest you to know that the burglar alarm company has just +called me up about the same case. If I had need of an added incentive, +which I hope you will believe I have not, that might furnish it. I will +do my best,” he repeated. + +“Thank you—a thousand times,” she cried fervently, and, had I been +Craig, I think I should have needed no more thanks than the look she +gave him as he accompanied her to the door of our apartment. + +It was still early and the eager crowds were pushing their way to +business through the narrow network of downtown streets as Kennedy and +I entered a large office on lower Broadway in the heart of the jewelry +trade and financial district. + +“One of the most amazing robberies that has ever been attempted has +been reported to us this morning,” announced James McLear, manager of +the Hale Electric Protection, adding with a look half of anxiety, half +of skepticism, “that is, if it is true.” + +McLear was a stocky man, of powerful build and voice and a general +appearance of having been once well connected with the city detective +force before an attractive offer had taken him into this position of +great responsibility. + +“Herman Schloss, one of the best known of Maiden Lane jewelers,” he +continued, “has been robbed of goods worth two or three hundred +thousand dollars—and in spite of every modern protection. So that you +will get it clearly, let me show you what we do here.” + +He ushered us into a large room, on the walls of which were hundreds of +little indicators. From the front they looked like rows of little +square compartments, tier on tier, about the size of ordinary post +office boxes. Closer examination showed that each was equipped with a +delicate needle arranged to oscillate backward and forward upon the +very minutest interference with the electric current. Under the boxes, +each of which bore a number, was a series of drops and buzzers numbered +to correspond with the boxes. + +“In nearly every office in Maiden Lane where gems and valuable jewelry +are stored,” explained McLear, “this electrical system of ours is +installed. When the safes are closed at night and the doors swung +together, a current of electricity is constantly shooting around the +safes, conducted by cleverly concealed wires. These wires are picked up +by a cable system which finds its way to this central office. Once +here, the wires are safeguarded in such manner that foreign currents +from other wires or from lightning cannot disturb the system.” + +We looked with intense interest at this huge electrical pulse that felt +every change over so vast and rich an area. + +“Passing a big dividing board,” he went on, “they are distributed and +connected each in its place to the delicate tangent galvanometers and +sensitive indicators you see in this room. These instantly announce the +most minute change in the working of the current, and each office has a +distinct separate metallic circuit. Why, even a hole as small as a lead +pencil in anything protected would sound the alarm here.” + +Kennedy nodded appreciatively. + +“You see,” continued McLear, glad to be able to talk to one who +followed him so closely, “it is another evidence of science finding for +us greater security in the use of a tiny electric wire than in massive +walls of steel and intricate lock devices. But here is a case in which, +it seems, every known protection has failed. We can’t afford to pass +that by. If we have fallen down we want to know how, as well as to +catch the burglar.” + +“How are the signals given?” I asked. + +“Well, when the day’s business is over, for instance, Schloss would +swing the heavy safe doors together and over them place the doors of a +wooden cabinet. That signals an alarm to us here. We answer it and if +the proper signal is returned, all right. After that no one can tamper +with the safe later in the night without sounding an alarm that would +bring a quick investigation.” + +“But suppose that it became necessary to open the safe before the next +morning. Might not some trusted employee return to the office, open it, +give the proper signals and loot the safe?” + +“No indeed,” he answered confidently. “The very moment anyone touches +the cabinet, the alarm is sounded. Even if the proper code signal is +returned, it is not sufficient. A couple of our trusted men from the +central office hustle around there anyhow and they don’t leave until +they are satisfied that everything is right. We have the authorized +signatures on hand of those who are supposed to open the safe and a +duplicate of one of them must be given or there is an arrest.” + +McLear considered for a moment. + +“For instance, Schloss, like all the rest, was assigned a box in which +was deposited a sealed envelope containing a key to the office and his +own signature, in this case, since he alone knew the combination. Now, +when an alarm is sounded, as it was last night, and the key removed to +gain entrance to the office, a record is made and the key has to be +sealed up again by Schloss. A report is also submitted showing when the +signals are received and anything else that is worth recording. Last +night our men found nothing wrong, apparently. But this morning we +learn of the robbery.” + +“The point is, then,” ruminated Kennedy, “what happened in the interval +between the ringing of the alarm and the arrival of the special +officers? I think I’ll drop around and look Schloss’ place over,” he +added quietly, evidently eager to begin at the actual scene of the +crime. + +On the door of the office to which McLear took us was one of those +small blue plates which chance visitors to Maiden Lane must have seen +often. To the initiated—be he crook or jeweler—this simple sign means +that the merchant is a member of the Jewelers’ Security Alliance, +enough in itself, it would seem, to make the boldest burglar hesitate. +For it is the motto of this organization to “get” the thief at any cost +and at any time. Still, it had not deterred the burglar in this +instance. + +“I know people are going to think it is a fake burglary,” exclaimed +Schloss, a stout, prosperous-looking gem broker, as we introduced +ourselves. “But over two hundred thousands dollars’ worth of stones are +gone,” he half groaned. “Think of it, man,” he added, “one of the +greatest robberies since the Dead Line was established. And if they can +get away with it, why, no one down here is protected any more. Half a +billion dollars in jewels in Maiden Lane and John Street are easy prey +for the cracksmen!” + +Staggering though the loss must have been to him, he had apparently +recovered from the first shock of the discovery and had begun the fight +to get back what had been lost. + +It was, as McLear had intimated, a most amazing burglary, too. The door +of Schloss’ safe was open when Kennedy and I arrived and found the +excited jeweler nervously pacing the office. Surrounding the safe, I +noticed a wooden framework constructed in such a way as to be a part of +the decorative scheme of the office. + +Schloss banged the heavy doors shut. + +“There, that’s just how it was—shut as tight as a drum. There was +absolutely no mark of anyone tampering with the combination lock. And +yet the safe was looted!” + +“How did you discover it?” asked Craig. “I presume you carry burglary +insurance?” + +Schloss looked up quickly. “That’s what I expected as a first question. +No, I carried very little insurance. You see, I thought the safe, one +of those new chrome steel affairs, was about impregnable. I never lost +a moment’s sleep over it; didn’t think it possible for anyone to get +into it. For, as you see, it is completely wired by the Hale Electric +Protection—that wooden framework about it. No one could touch that when +it was set without jangling a bell at the central office which would +send men scurrying here to protect the place.” + +“But they must have got past it,” suggested Kennedy. + +“Yes—they must have. At least this morning I received the regular Hale +report. It said that their wires registered last night as though some +one was tampering with the safe. But by the time they got around, in +less than five minutes, there was no one here, nothing seemed to be +disturbed. So they set it down to induction or electrolysis, or +something the matter with the wires. I got the report the first thing +when I arrived here with my assistant, Muller.” + +Kennedy was on his knees, going over the safe with a fine brush and +some powder, looking now and then through a small magnifying glass. + +“Not a finger print,” he muttered. “The cracksman must have worn +gloves. But how did he get in? There isn’t a mark of ‘soup’ having been +used to blow it up, nor of a ‘can-opener’ to rip it open, if that were +possible, nor of an electric or any other kind of drill.” + +“I’ve read of those fellows who burn their way in,” said Schloss. + +“But there is no hole,” objected Kennedy, “not a trace of the use of +thermit to burn the way in or of the oxyacetylene blowpipe to cut a +piece out. Most extraordinary,” he murmured. + +“You see,” shrugged Schloss, “everyone will say it must have been +opened by one who knew the combination. But I am the only one. I have +never written it down or told anyone, not even Muller. You understand +what I am up against?” + +“There’s the touch system,” I suggested. “You remember, Craig, the old +fellow who used to file his finger tips to the quick until they were so +sensitive that he could actually feel when he had turned the +combination to the right plunger? Might not that explain the lack of +finger prints also?” I added eagerly. + +“Nothing like that in this case, Walter,” objected Craig positively. +“This fellow wore gloves, all right. No, this safe has been opened and +looted by no ordinarily known method. It’s the most amazing case I ever +saw in that respect—almost as if we had a cracksman in the fourth +dimension to whom the inside of a closed cube is as accessible as is +the inside of a plane square to us three dimensional creatures. It is +almost incomprehensible.” + +I fancied I saw Schloss’ face brighten as Kennedy took this view. So +far, evidently, he had run across only skepticism. + +“The stones were unset?” resumed Craig. + +“Mostly. Not all.” + +“You would recognize some of them if you saw them?” + +“Yes indeed. Some could be changed only by re-cutting. Even some of +those that were set were of odd cut and size—some from a diamond +necklace which belonged to a—” + +There was something peculiar in both his tone and manner as he cut +short the words. + +“To whom?” asked Kennedy casually. + +“Oh, once to a well-known woman in society,” he said carefully. “It is +mine, though, now—at least it was mine. I should prefer to mention no +names. I will give a description of the stones.” + +“Mrs. Lynn Moulton, for instance?” suggested Craig quietly. + +Schloss jumped almost as if a burglar alarm had sounded under his very +ears. “How did you know? Yes—but it was a secret. I made a large loan +on it, and the time has expired.” + +“Why did she need money so badly?” asked Kennedy. + +“How should I know?” demanded Schloss. + +Here was a deepening mystery, not to be elucidated by continuing this +line of inquiry with Schloss, it seemed. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII +THE PASTE REPLICA + + +Carefully Craig was going over the office. Outside of the safe, there +had apparently been nothing of value. The rest of the office was not +even wired, and it seemed to have been Schloss’ idea that the few +thousands of burglary insurance amply protected him against such loss. +As for the safe, its own strength and the careful wiring might well +have been considered quite sufficient under any hitherto to-be-foreseen +circumstances. + +A glass door, around the bend of a partition, opened from the hallway +into the office and had apparently been designed with the object of +making visible the safe so that anyone passing might see whether an +intruder was tampering with it. + +Kennedy had examined the door, perhaps in the expectation of finding +finger prints there, and was passing on to other things, when a change +in his position caused his eye to catch a large oval smudge on the +glass, which was visible when the light struck it at the right angle. +Quickly he dusted it over with the powder, and brought out the detail +more clearly. As I examined it, while Craig made preparations to cut +out the glass to preserve it, it seemed to contain a number of minute +points and several more or less broken parallel lines. The edges +gradually trailed off into an indistinct faintness. + +Business, naturally, was at a standstill, and as we were working near +the door, we could see that the news of Schloss’ strange robbery had +leaked out and was spreading rapidly. Scores of acquaintances in the +trade stopped at the door to inquire about the rumor. + +To each, it seemed that Morris Muller, the working jeweler employed by +Schloss, repeated the same story. + +“Oh,” he said, “it is a big loss—yes—but big as it is, it will not +break Mr. Schloss. And,” he would add with the tradesman’s idea of +humor, “I guess he has enough to play a game of poker—eh?” + +“Poker?” asked Kennedy smiling. “Is he much of a player?” + +“Yes. Nearly every night with his friends he plays.” + +Kennedy made a mental note of it. Evidently Schloss trusted Muller +implicitly. He seemed like a partner, rather than an employee, even +though he had not been entrusted with the secret combination. + +Outside, we ran into city detective Lieutenant Winters, the officer who +was stationed at the Maiden Lane post, guarding that famous section of +the Dead Line established by the immortal Byrnes at Fulton Street, +below which no crook was supposed to dare even to be seen. Winters had +been detailed on the case. + +“You have seen the safe in there?” asked Kennedy, as he was leaving to +carry on his investigation elsewhere. + +Winters seemed to be quite as skeptical as Schloss had intimated the +public would be. “Yes,” he replied, “there’s been an epidemic of +robbery with the dull times—people who want to collect their burglary +insurance, I guess.” + +“But,” objected Kennedy, “Schloss carried so little.” + +“Well, there was the Hale Protection. How about that?” + +Craig looked up quickly, unruffled by the patronizing air of the +professional toward the amateur detective. + +“What is your theory?” he asked. “Do you think he robbed himself?” + +Winters shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve been interested in Schloss for +some time,” he said enigmatically. “He has had some pretty swell +customers. I’ll keep you wised up, if anything happens,” he added in a +burst of graciousness, walking off. + +On the way to the subway, we paused again to see McLear. + +“Well,” he asked, “what do you think of it, now?” + +“All most extraordinary,” ruminated Craig. “And the queerest feature of +all is that the chief loss consists of a diamond necklace that belonged +once to Mrs. Antoinette Moulton.” + +“Mrs. Lynn Moulton?” repeated McLear. + +“The same,” assured Kennedy. + +McLear appeared somewhat puzzled. “Her husband is one of our old +subscribers,” he pursued. “He is a lawyer on Wall Street and quite a +gem collector. Last night his safe was tampered with, but this morning +he reports no loss. Not half an hour ago he had us on the wire +congratulating us on scaring off the burglars, if there had been any.” + +“What is your opinion,” I asked. “Is there a gang operating?” + +“My belief is,” he answered, reminiscently of his days on the detective +force, “that none of the loot will be recovered until they start to +‘fence’ it. That would be my lay—to look for the fence. Why, think of +all the big robberies that have been pulled off lately. Remember,” he +went on, “the spoils of a burglary consist generally of precious +stones. They are not currency. They must be turned into currency—or +what’s the use of robbery? + +“But merely to offer them for sale at an ordinary jeweler’s would be +suspicious. Even pawnbrokers are on the watch. You see what I am +driving at? I think there is a man or a group of men whose business it +is to pay cash for stolen property and who have ways of returning gems +into the regular trade channels. In all these robberies we get a +glimpse of as dark and mysterious a criminal as has ever been recorded. +He may be—anybody. About his legitimacy, I believe, no question has +ever been raised. And, I tell you, his arrest is going to create a +greater sensation than even the remarkable series of robberies that he +has planned or made possible. The question is, to my mind, who is this +fence?” + +McLear’s telephone rang and he handed the instrument to Craig. + +“Yes, this is Professor Kennedy,” answered Craig. “Oh, too bad you’ve +had to try all over to get me. I’ve been going from one place to +another gathering clues and have made good progress, considering I’ve +hardly started. Why—what’s the matter? Really?” + +An interval followed, during which McLear left to answer a personal +call on another wire. + +As Kennedy hung up the receiver, his face wore a peculiar look. “It was +Mrs. Moulton,” he blurted out. “She thinks that her husband has found +out that the necklace is paste.” + +“How?” I asked. + +“The paste replica is gone from her wall safe in the Deluxe.” + +I turned, startled at the information. Even Kennedy himself was +perplexed at the sudden succession of events. I had nothing to say. + +Evidently, however, his rule was when in doubt play a trump, for, +twenty minutes later found us in the office of Lynn Moulton, the famous +corporation lawyer, in Wall Street. + +Moulton was a handsome man of past fifty with a youthful face against +his iron gray hair and mustache, well dressed, genial, a man who seemed +keenly in love with the good things of life. + +“It is rumored,” began Kennedy, “that an attempt was made on your safe +here at the office last night.” + +“Yes,” he admitted, taking off his glasses and polishing them +carefully. “I suppose there is no need of concealment, especially as I +hear that a somewhat similar attempt was made on the safe of my friend +Herman Schloss in Maiden Lane.” + +“You lost nothing?” + +Moulton put his glasses on and looked Kennedy in the face frankly. + +“Nothing, fortunately,” he said, then went on slowly. “You see, in my +later years, I have been something of a collector of precious stones +myself. I don’t wear them, but I have always taken the keenest pleasure +in owning them and when I was married it gave me a great deal more +pleasure to have them set in rings, pendants, tiaras, necklaces, and +other forms for my wife.” + +He had risen, with the air of a busy man who had given the subject all +the consideration he could afford and whose work proceeded almost by +schedule. “This morning I found my safe tampered with, but, as I said, +fortunately something must have scared off the burglars.” + +He bowed us out politely. What was the explanation, I wondered. It +seemed, on the face of things, that Antoinette Moulton feared her +husband. Did he know something else already, and did she know he knew? +To all appearances he took it very calmly, if he did know. Perhaps that +was what she feared, his very calmness. + +“I must see Mrs. Moulton again,” remarked Kennedy, as we left. + +The Moultons lived, we found, in one of the largest suites of a new +apartment hotel, the Deluxe, and in spite of the fact that our arrival +had been announced some minutes before we saw Mrs. Moulton, it was +evident that she had been crying hysterically over the loss of the +paste jewels and what it implied. + +“I missed it this morning, after my return from seeing you,” she +replied in answer to Craig’s inquiry, then added, wide-eyed with alarm, +“What shall I do? He must have opened the wall safe and found the +replica. I don’t dare ask him point-blank.” + +“Are you sure he did it?” asked Kennedy, more, I felt, for its moral +effect on her than through any doubt in his own mind. + +“Not sure. But then the wall safe shows no marks, and the replica is +gone.” + +“Might I see your jewel case?” he asked. + +“Surely. I’ll get it. The wall safe is in Lynn’s room. I shall probably +have to fuss a long time with the combination.” + +In fact she could not have been very familiar with it for it took +several minutes before she returned. Meanwhile, Kennedy, who had been +drumming absently on the arms of his chair, suddenly rose and walked +quietly over to a scrap basket that stood beside an escritoire. It had +evidently just been emptied, for the rooms must have been cleaned +several hours before. He bent down over it and picked up two scraps of +paper adhering to the wicker work. The rest had evidently been thrown +away. + +I bent over to read them. One was: + +—rest Nettie— +—dying to see— + + +The other read: + +—cherche to-d +—love and ma +—rman. + + +What did it mean? Hastily, I could fill in “Dearest Nettie,” and “I am +dying to see you.” Kennedy added, “The Recherche to-day,” that being +the name of a new apartment uptown, as well as “love and many kisses.” +But “—rman”—what did that mean? Could it be Herman—Herman Schloss? + +She was returning and we resumed our seats quickly. + +Kennedy took the jewel case from her and examined it carefully. There +was not a mark on it. + +“Mrs. Moulton,” he said slowly, rising and handing it back to her, +“have you told me all?” + +“Why—yes,” she answered. + +Kennedy shook his head gravely. + +“I’m afraid not. You must tell me everything.” + +“No—no,” she cried vehemently, “there is nothing more.” + +We left and outside the Deluxe he paused, looked about, caught sight of +a taxicab and hailed it. + +“Where?” asked the driver. + +“Across the street,” he said, “and wait. Put the window in back of you +down so I can talk. I’ll tell you where to go presently. Now, Walter, +sit back as far as you can. This may seem like an underhand thing to +do, but we’ve got to get what that woman won’t tell us or give up the +case.” + +Perhaps half an hour we waited, still puzzling over the scraps of +paper. Suddenly I felt a nudge from Kennedy. Antoinette Moulton was +standing in the doorway across the street. Evidently she preferred not +to ride in her own car, for a moment later she entered a taxicab. + +“Follow that black cab,” said Kennedy to our driver. + +Sure enough, it stopped in front of the Recherche Apartments and Mrs. +Moulton stepped out and almost ran in. + +We waited a moment, then Kennedy followed. The elevator that had taken +her up had just returned to the ground floor. + +“The same floor again,” remarked Kennedy, jauntily stepping in and +nodding familiarly to the elevator boy. + +Then he paused suddenly, looked at his watch, fixed his gaze +thoughtfully on me an instant, and exclaimed. “By George—no. I can’t go +up yet. I clean forgot that engagement at the hotel. One moment, son. +Let us out. We’ll be back again.” + +Considerably mystified, I followed him to the sidewalk. + +“You’re entitled to an explanation,” he laughed catching my bewildered +look as he opened the cab door. “I didn’t want to go up now while she +is there, but I wanted to get on good terms with that boy. We’ll wait +until she comes down, then go up.” + +“Where?” I asked. + +“That’s what I am going through all this elaborate preparation to find +out. I have no more idea than you have.” + +It could not have been more than twenty minutes later when Mrs. Moulton +emerged rather hurriedly, and drove away. + +While we had been waiting I had observed a man on the other side of the +street who seemed unduly interested in the Recherche, too, for he had +walked up and down the block no less than six times. Kennedy saw him, +and as he made no effort to follow Mrs. Moulton, Kennedy did not do so +either. In fact a little quick glance which she had given at our cab +had raised a fear that she might have discovered that she was being +followed. + +Kennedy and I paid off our cabman and sauntered into the Recherche in +the most debonair manner we could assume. + +“Now, son, we’ll go up,” he said to the boy who, remembering us, and +now not at all clear in his mind that he might not have seen us before +that, whisked us to the tenth floor. + +“Let me see,” said Kennedy, “it’s number one hundred and—er——” + +“Three,” prompted the boy. + +He pressed the buzzer and a neatly dressed colored maid responded. + +“I had an appointment here with Mrs. Moulton this morning,” remarked +Kennedy. + +“She has just gone,” replied the maid, off her guard. + +“And was to meet Mr. Schloss here in half an hour,” he added quickly. + +It was the maid’s turn to look surprised. + +“I didn’t think he was to be here,” she said. “He’s had some—” + +“Trouble at the office,” supplied Kennedy. “That’s what it was about. +Perhaps he hasn’t been able to get away yet. But I had the appointment. +Ah, I see a telephone in the hall. May I?” + +He had stepped politely in, and by dint of cleverly keeping his finger +on the hook in the half light, he carried on a one-sided conversation +with himself long enough to get a good chance to look about. + +There was an air of quiet and refinement about the apartment in the +Recherche. It was darkened to give the little glowing electric bulbs in +their silken shades a full chance to simulate right. The deep velvety +carpets were noiseless to the foot, and the draperies, the pictures, +the bronzes, all bespoke taste. + +But the chief objects of interest to Craig were the little square green +baize-covered tables on one of which lay neatly stacked a pile of +gilt-edged cards and a mahogany box full of ivory chips of red, white +and blue. + +It was none of the old-time gambling places, like Danfield’s, with its +steel door which Craig had once cut through with an oxyacetylene +blowpipe in order to rescue a young spendthrift from himself. + +Kennedy seemed perfectly well satisfied merely with a cursory view of +the place, as he hung up the receiver and thanked the maid politely for +allowing him to use it. + +“This is up-to-date gambling in cleaned-up New York,” he remarked as we +waited for the elevator to return for us. “And the worst of it all is +that it gets the women as well as the men. Once they are caught in the +net, they are the most powerful lure to men that the gamblers have yet +devised.” + +We rode down in silence, and as we went down the steps to the street, I +noticed the man whom we had seen watching the place, lurking down at +the lower corner. Kennedy quickened his pace and came up behind him. + +“Why, Winters!” exclaimed Craig. “You here?” + +“I might say the same to you,” grinned the detective not displeased +evidently that our trail had crossed his. “I suppose you are looking +for Schloss, too. He’s up in the Recherche a great deal, playing poker. +I understand he owns an interest in the game up there.” + +Kennedy nodded, but said nothing. + +“I just saw one of the cappers for the place go out before you went +in.” + +“Capper?” repeated Kennedy surprised. “Antoinette Moulton a steerer for +a gambling joint? What can a rich society woman have to do with a place +like that or a man like Schloss?” + +Winters smiled sardonically. “Society ladies to-day often get into +scrapes of which their husbands know nothing,” he remarked. “You didn’t +know before that Antoinette Moulton, like many of her friends in the +smart set, was a gambler—and loser—did you?” + +Craig shook his head. He had more of human than scientific interest in +a case of a woman of her caliber gone wrong. + +“But you must have read of the famous Moulton diamonds?” + +“Yes,” said Craig, blankly, as if it were all news to him. + +“Schloss has them—or at least had them. The jewels she wore at the +opera this winter were paste, I understand.” + +“Does Moulton play?” he asked. + +“I think so—but not here, naturally. In a way, I suppose, it is his +fault. They all do it. The example of one drives on another.” + +Instantly there flashed over my mind a host of possibilities. Perhaps, +after all, Winters had been right. Schloss had taken this way to make +sure of the jewels so that she could not redeem them. Suddenly another +explanation crowded that out. Had Mrs. Moulton robbed the safe herself, +or hired some one else to do it for her, and had that person gone back +on her? + +Then a horrid possibility occurred to me. Whatever Antoinette Moulton +may have been and done, some one must have her in his power. What a +situation for the woman! My sympathy went out to her in her supreme +struggle. Even if it had been a real robbery, Schloss might easily +recover from it. But for her every event spelled ruin and seemed only +to be bringing that ruin closer. + +We left Winters, still watching on the trail of Schloss, and went on +uptown to the laboratory. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII +THE BURGLAR’S MICROPHONE + + +That night I was sitting, brooding over the case, while Craig was +studying a photograph which he made of the smudge on the glass door +down at Schloss’. He paused in his scrutiny of the print to answer the +telephone. + +“Something has happened to Schloss,” he exclaimed seizing his hat and +coat. “Winters has been watching him. He didn’t go to the Recherche. +Winters wants me to meet him at a place several blocks below it Come +on. He wouldn’t say over the wire what it was. Hurry.” + +We met Winters in less than ten minutes at the address he had given, a +bachelor apartment in the neighborhood of the Recherche. + +“Schloss kept rooms here,” explained Winters, hurrying us quickly +upstairs. “I wanted you to see before anyone else.” + +As we entered the large and luxuriously furnished living room of the +jeweler’s suite, a gruesome sight greeted us. + +There lay Schloss on the floor, face down, in a horribly contorted +position. In one hand, clenched under him partly, the torn sleeve of a +woman’s dress was grasped convulsively. The room bore unmistakable +traces of a violent struggle, but except for the hideous object on the +floor was vacant. + +Kennedy bent down over him. Schloss was dead. In a corner, by the door, +stood a pile of grips, stacked up, packed, and undisturbed. + +Winters who had been studying the room while we got our bearings picked +up a queer-looking revolver from the floor. As he held it up I could +see that along the top of the barrel was a long cylinder with a ratchet +or catch at the butt end. He turned it over and over carefully. + +“By George,” he muttered, “it has been fired off.” + +Kennedy glanced more minutely at the body. There was not a mark on it. +I stared about vacantly at the place where Winters had picked the thing +up. + +“Look,” I cried, my eye catching a little hole in the baseboard of the +woodwork near it. + +“It must have fallen and exploded on the floor,” remarked Kennedy. “Let +me see it, Winters.” + +Craig held it at arm’s length and pulled the catch. Instead of an +explosion, there came a cone of light from the top of the gun. As +Kennedy moved it over the wall, I saw in the center of the circle of +light a dark spot. + +“A new invention,” Craig explained. “All you need to do is to move it +so that little dark spot falls directly on an object. Pull the +trigger—the bullet strikes the dark spot. Even a nervous and unskilled +marksman becomes a good shot in the dark. He can even shoot from behind +the protection of something—and hit accurately.” + +It was too much for me. I could only stand and watch Kennedy as he +deftly bent over Schloss again and placed a piece of chemically +prepared paper flat on the forehead of the dead man. + +When he withdrew it, I could see that it bore marks of the lines on his +head. Without a word, Kennedy drew from his pocket a print of the +photograph of the smudge on Schloss’ door. + +“It is possible,” he said, half to himself, “to identify a person by +means of the arrangement of the sweat glands or pores. Poroscopy, Dr. +Edmond Locard, director of the Police Laboratory at Lyons, calls it. +The shape, arrangement, number per square centimeter, all vary in +different individuals. Besides, here we have added the lines of the +forehead.” + +He was studying the two impressions intensely. When he looked up from +his examination, his face wore a peculiar expression. + +“This is not the head which was placed so close to the glass of the +door of Schloss’ office, peering through, on the night of the robbery, +in order to see before picking the lock whether the office was empty +and everything ready for the hasty attack on the safe.” + +“That disposes of my theory that Schloss robbed himself,” remarked +Winters reluctantly. “But the struggle here, the sleeve of the dress, +the pistol—could he have been shot?” + +“No, I think not,” considered Kennedy. “It looks to me more like a case +of apoplexy.” + +“What shall we do?” asked Winters. “Far from clearing anything up, this +complicates it.” + +“Where’s Muller?” asked Kennedy. “Does he know? Perhaps he can shed +some light on it.” + +The clang of an ambulance bell outside told that the aid summoned by +Winters had arrived. + +We left the body in charge of the surgeon and of a policeman who +arrived about the same time, and followed Winters. + +Muller lived in a cheap boarding house in a shabbily respectable street +downtown, and without announcing ourselves we climbed the stairs to his +room. He looked up surprised but not disconcerted as we entered. + +“What’s the matter?” he asked. + +“Muller,” shot out Winters, “we have just found Mr. Schloss dead!” + +“D-dead!” he stammered. + +The man seemed speechless with horror. + +“Yes, and with his grips packed as if to run away.” + +Muller looked dazedly from one of us to the other, but shut up like a +clam. + +“I think you had better come along with us as a material witness,” +burst out Winters roughly. + +Kennedy said nothing, leaving that sort of third degree work to the +detective. But he was not idle, as Winters tried to extract more than +the monosyllables, “I don’t know,” in answer to every inquiry of Muller +about his employer’s life and business. + +A low exclamation from Craig attracted my attention from Winters. In a +corner he had discovered a small box and had opened it. Inside was a +dry battery and a most peculiar instrument, something like a little +flat telephone transmitter yet attached by wires to earpieces that +fitted over the head after the manner of those of a wireless detector. + +“What’s this?” asked Kennedy, dangling it before Muller. + +He looked at it phlegmatically. “A deaf instrument I have been working +on,” replied the jeweler. “My hearing is getting poor.” + +Kennedy looked hastily from the instrument to the man. + +“I think I’ll take it along with us,” he said quietly. + +Winters, true to his instincts, had been searching Muller in the +meantime. Besides the various assortment that a man carries in his +pockets usually, including pens, pencils, notebooks, a watch, a +handkerchief, a bunch of keys, one of which was large enough to open a +castle, there was a bunch of blank and unissued pawn-tickets bearing +the name, “Stein’s One Per Cent. a Month Loans,” and an address on the +Bowery. + +Was Muller the “fence” we were seeking, or only a tool for the “fence” +higher up? Who was this Stein? + +What it all meant I could only guess. It was a far cry from the wealth +of Diamond Lane to a dingy Bowery pawnshop, even though pawnbroking at +one per cent. a month—and more, on the side—pays. I knew, too, that +diamonds are hoarded on the East Side as nowhere else in the world, +outside of India. It was no uncommon thing, I had heard, for a +pawnbroker whose shop seemed dirty and greasy to the casual visitor to +have stored away in his vault gems running into the hundreds of +thousands of dollars. + +“Mrs. Moulton must know of this,” remarked Kennedy. “Winters, you and +Jameson bring Muller along. I am going up to the Deluxe.” + +I must say that I was surprised at finding Mrs. Moulton there. Outside +the suite Winters and I waited with the unresisting Muller, while +Kennedy entered. But through the door which he left ajar I could hear +what passed. + +“Mrs. Moulton,” he began, “something terrible has happened—” + +He broke off, and I gathered that her pale face and agitated manner +told him that she knew already. + +“Where is Mr. Moulton?” he went on, changing his question. + +“Mr. Moulton is at his office,” she answered tremulously. “He +telephoned while I was out that he had to work to-night. Oh, Mr. +Kennedy—he knows—he knows. I know it. He has avoided me ever since I +missed the replica from-” + +“Sh!” cautioned Craig. He had risen and gone to the door. + +“Winters,” he whispered, “I want you to go down to Lynn Moulton’s +office. Meanwhile Jameson can take care of Muller. I am going over to +that place of Stein’s presently. Bring Moulton up there. You will wait +here, Walter, for the present,” he nodded. + +He returned to the room where I could hear her crying softly. + +“Now, Mrs. Moulton,” he said gently, “I’m afraid I must trouble you to +go with me. I am going over to a pawnbroker’s on the Bowery.” + +“The Bowery?” she repeated, with a genuinely surprised shudder. “Oh, +no, Mr. Kennedy. Don’t ask me to go anywhere to-night. I am—I am in no +condition to go anywhere—to do anything—I—” + +“But you must,” said Kennedy in a low voice. + +“I can’t. Oh—have mercy on me. I am terribly upset. You—” + +“It is your duty to go, Mrs. Moulton,” he repeated. + +“I don’t understand.” she murmured. “A pawnbroker’s?” + +“Come,” urged Kennedy, not harshly but firmly, then, as she held back, +added, playing a trump card, “We must work quickly. In his hands we +found the fragments of a torn dress. When the police—” + +She uttered a shriek. A glance had told her, if she had deceived +herself before, that Kennedy knew her secret. + +Antoinette Moulton was standing before him, talking rapidly. + +“Some one has told Lynn. I know it. There is nothing now that I can +conceal. If you had come half an hour later you would not have found +me. He had written to Mr. Schloss, threatening him that if he did not +leave the country he would shoot him at sight. Mr. Schloss showed me +the letter. + +“It had come to this. I must either elope with Schloss, or lose his +aid. The thought of either was unendurable. I hated him—yet was +dependent on him. + +“To-night I met him, in his empty apartment, alone. I knew that he had +what was left of his money with him, that everything was packed up. I +went prepared. I would not elope. My plan was no less than to make him +pay the balance on the necklace that he had lost—or to murder him. + +“I carried a new pistol in my muff, one which Lynn had just bought. I +don’t know how I did it. I was desperate. + +“He told me he loved me, that Lynn did not, never had—that Lynn had +married me only to show off his wealth and diamonds, to give him a +social! position—that I was merely a—a piece of property—a dummy. + +“He tried to kiss me. It was revolting. I struggled away from him. + +“And in the struggle, the revolver fell from my muff and exploded on +the floor. + +“At once he was aflame with suspicion. + +“‘So—it’s murder you want!’ he shouted. ‘Well, murder it shall be!’ + +“I saw death in his eye as he seized my arm. I was defenseless now. The +old passion came over him. Before he killed—he—would have his way with +me. + +“I screamed. With a wild effort I twisted away from him. + +“He raised his hand to strike me, I saw his eyes, glassy. Then he sank +back—fell to the floor—dead of apoplexy—dead of his furious emotions. + +“I fled. + +“And now you have found me.” + +She had turned, hastily, to leave the room. Kennedy blocked the door. + +“Mrs. Moulton,” he said firmly, “listen to me. What was the first +question you asked me? ‘Can I trust you?’ And I told you you could. +This is no time for—for suicide.” He shot the word out bluntly. “All +may not be lost. I have sent for your husband. Muller is outside.” + +“Muller?” she cried. “He made the replica.” + +“Very well. I am going to clear this thing up. Come. You _must_.” + +It was all confused to me, the dash in a car to the little pawnbroker’s +on the first floor of a five-story tenement, the quick entry into the +place by one of Muller’s keys. + +Over the safe in back was a framework like that which had covered +Schloss’ safe. Kennedy tore it away, regardless of the alarm which it +must have sounded. In a moment he was down before it on his knees. + +“This is how Schloss’ safe was opened so quickly,” he muttered, working +feverishly. “Here is some of their own medicine.” + +He had placed the peculiar telephone-like transmitter close to the +combination lock and was turning the combination rapidly. + +Suddenly he rose, gave the bolts a twist, and the ponderous doors swung +open. + +“What is it?” I asked eagerly. + +“A burglar’s microphone,” he answered, hastily looking over the +contents of the safe. “The microphone is now used by burglars for +picking combination locks. When you turn the lock, a slight sound is +made when the proper number comes opposite the working point. It can be +heard sometimes by a sensitive ear, although it is imperceptible to +most persons. But by using a microphone it is an easy matter to hear +the sounds which allow of opening the lock.” + +He had taken a yellow chamois bag out of the safe and opened it. + +Inside sparkled the famous Moulton diamonds. He held them up—in all +their wicked brilliancy. No one spoke. + +Then he took another yellow bag, more dirty and worn than the first. As +he opened it, Mrs. Moulton could restrain herself no longer. + +“The replica!” she cried. “The replica!” + +Without a word, Craig handed the real necklace to her. Then he slipped +the paste jewels into the newer of the bags and restored both it and +the empty one to their places, banged shut the door of the safe, and +replaced the wooden screen. + +“Quick!” he said to her, “you have still a minute to get away. +Hurry—anywhere—away—only away!” + +The look of gratitude that came over her face, as she understood the +full meaning of it was such as I had never seen before. + +“Quick!” he repeated. + +It was too late. + +“For God’s sake, Kennedy,” shouted a voice at the street door, “what +are you doing here?” + +It was McLear himself. He had come with the Hale patrol, on his mettle +now to take care of the epidemic of robberies. + +Before Craig could reply a cab drew up with a rush at the curb and two +men, half fighting, half cursing, catapulted themselves into the shop. + +They were Winters and Moulton. + +Without a word, taking advantage of the first shock of surprise, +Kennedy had clapped a piece of chemical paper on the foreheads of Mrs. +Moulton, then of Moulton, and on Muller’s. Oblivious to the rest of us, +he studied the impressions in the full light of the counter. + +Moulton was facing his wife with a scornful curl of the lip. + +“I’ve been told of the paste replica—and I wrote Schloss that I’d shoot +him down like the dog he is, you—you traitress,” he hissed. + +She drew herself up scornfully. + +“And I have been told why you married me—to show off your wicked jewels +and help you in your—” + +“You lie!” he cried fiercely. “Muller—some one—open this safe—whosever +it is. If what I have been told is true, there is in it one new bag +containing the necklace. It was stolen from Schloss to whom you sold +_my_ jewels. The other old bag, stolen from me, contains the paste +replica you had made to deceive me.” + +It was all so confused that I do not know how it happened. I think it +was Muller who opened the safe. + +“There is the new yellow bag,” cried Moulton, “from Schloss’ own safe. +Open it.” + +McLear had taken it. He did so. There sparkled not the real gems, but +the replica. + +“The devil!” Moulton exclaimed, breaking from Winters and seizing the +old bag. + +He tore it open and—it was empty. + +“One moment,” interrupted Kennedy, looking up quietly from the counter. +“Seal that safe again, McLear. In it are the Schloss jewels and the +products of half a dozen other robberies which the dupe Muller—or +Stein, as you please—pulled off, some as a blind to conceal the real +criminal. You may have shown him how to leave no finger prints, but you +yourself have left what is just as good—your own forehead print. +McLear—you were right. There’s your criminal—Lynn Moulton, professional +fence, the brains of the thing.” + + + + +CHAPTER XIX +THE GERM LETTER + + +Lynn Moulton made no fight and Kennedy did not pursue the case, for, +with the rescue of Antoinette Moulton, his interest ceased. + +Blackmail takes various forms, and the Moulton affair was only one +phase of it. It was not long before we had to meet a much stranger +attempt. + +“Read the letter, Professor Kennedy. Then I will tell you the sequel.” + +Mrs. Hunter Blake lay back in the cushions of her invalid chair in the +sun parlor of the great Blake mansion on Riverside Drive, facing the +Hudson with its continuous reel of maritime life framed against the +green-hilled background of the Jersey shore. + +Her nurse, Miss Dora Sears, gently smoothed out the pillows and +adjusted them so that the invalid could more easily watch us. Mrs. +Blake, wealthy, known as a philanthropist, was not an old woman, but +had been for years a great sufferer from rheumatism. + +I watched Miss Sears eagerly. Full-bosomed, fine of face and figure, +she was something more than a nurse; she was a companion. She had +bright, sparkling black eyes and an expression about her well-cut mouth +which made one want to laugh with her. It seemed to say that the world +was a huge joke and she invited you to enjoy the joke with her. + +Kennedy took the letter which Miss Sears proffered him, and as he did +so I could not help noticing her full, plump forearm on which gleamed a +handsome plain gold bracelet. He spread the letter out on a dainty +wicker table in such a way that we both could see it. + +We had been summoned over the telephone to the Blake mansion by +Reginald Blake, Mrs. Blake’s eldest son. Reginald had been very +reticent over the reason, but had seemed very anxious and insistent +that Kennedy should come immediately. + +Craig read quickly and I followed him, fascinated by the letter from +its very opening paragraph. + +“Dear Madam,” it began. “Having received my diploma as doctor of +medicine and bacteriology at Heidelberg in 1909, I came to the United +States to study a most serious disease which is prevalent in several of +the western mountain states.” + +So far, I reflected, it looked like an ordinary appeal for aid. The +next words, however, were queer: “I have four hundred persons of wealth +on my list. Your name was—” + +Kennedy turned the page. On the next leaf of the letter sheet was +pasted a strip of gelatine. The first page had adhered slightly to the +gelatine. + +“Chosen by fate,” went on the sentence ominously. + +“By opening this letter,” I read, “you have liberated millions of the +virulent bacteria of this disease. Without a doubt you are infected by +this time, for no human body is impervious to them, and up to the +present only one in one hundred has fully recovered after going through +all its stages.” + +I gasped. The gelatine had evidently been arranged so that when the two +sheets were pulled apart, the germs would be thrown into the air about +the person opening the letter. It was a very ingenious device. + +The letter continued, “I am happy to say, however, that I have a +prophylactic which will destroy any number of these germs if used up to +the ninth day. It is necessary only that you should place five thousand +dollars in an envelope and leave it for me to be called for at the desk +of the Prince Henry Hotel. When the messenger delivers the money to me, +the prophylactic will be sent immediately. + +“First of all, take a match and burn this letter to avoid spreading the +disease. Then change your clothes and burn the old ones. Enclosed you +will find in a germ-proof envelope an exact copy of this letter. The +room should then be thoroughly fumigated. Do not come into close +contact with anyone near and dear to you until you have used the +prophylactic. Tell no one. In case you do, the prophylactic will not be +sent under any circumstances. Very truly yours, DR. HANS HOPF.” + +“Blackmail!” exclaimed Kennedy, looking intently again at the gelatine +on the second page, as I involuntarily backed away and held my breath. + +“Yes, I know,” responded Mrs. Blake anxiously, “but is it true?” + +There could be no doubt from the tone of her voice that she more than +half believed that it was true. + +“I cannot say—yet,” replied Craig, still cautiously scanning the +apparently innocent piece of gelatine on the original letter which Mrs. +Blake had not destroyed. “I shall have to keep it and examine it.” + +On the gelatine I could see a dark mass which evidently was supposed to +contain the germs. + +“I opened the letter here in this room,” she went on. “At first I +thought nothing of it. But this morning, when Buster, my prize +Pekinese, who had been with me, sitting on my lap at the time, and +closer to the letter even than I was, when Buster was taken suddenly +ill, I—well, I began to worry.” + +She finished with a little nervous laugh, as people will to hide their +real feelings. + +“I should like to see the dog,” remarked Kennedy simply. + +“Miss Sears,” asked her mistress, “will you get Buster, please?” + +The nurse left the room. No longer was there the laughing look on her +face. This was serious business. + +A few minutes later she reappeared, carrying gingerly a small dog +basket. Mrs. Blake lifted the lid. Inside was a beautiful little +“Peke,” and it was easy to see that Buster was indeed ill. + +“Who is your doctor?” asked Craig, considering. + +“Dr. Rae Wilson, a very well-known woman physician.” + +Kennedy nodded recognition of the name. “What does she say?” he asked, +observing the dog narrowly. + +“We haven’t told anyone, outside, of it yet,” replied Mrs. Blake. “In +fact until Buster fell sick, I thought it was a hoax.” + +“You haven’t told anyone?” + +“Only Reginald and my daughter Betty. Betty is frantic—not with fear +for herself, but with fear for me. No one can reassure her. In fact it +was as much for her sake as anyone’s that I sent for you. Reginald has +tried to trace the thing down himself, but has not succeeded.” + +She paused. The door opened and Reginald Blake entered. He was a young +fellow, self confident and no doubt very efficient at the new dances, +though scarcely fitted to rub elbows with a cold world which, outside +of his own immediate circle, knew not the name of Blake. He stood for a +moment regarding us through the smoke of his cigarette. + +“Tell me just what you have done,” asked Kennedy of him as his mother +introduced him, although he had done the talking for her over the +telephone. + +“Done?” he drawled. “Why, as soon as mother told me of the letter, I +left an envelope up at the Prince Henry, as it directed.” + +“With the money?” put in Craig quickly. + +“Oh, no—just as a decoy.” + +“Yes. What happened?” + +“Well, I waited around a long time. It was far along in the day when a +woman appeared at the desk. I had instructed the clerk to be on the +watch for anyone who asked for mail addressed to a Dr. Hopf. The clerk +slammed the register. That was the signal. I moved up closer.” + +“What did she look like?” asked Kennedy keenly. + +“I couldn’t see her face. But she was beautifully dressed, with a long +light flowing linen duster, a veil that hid her features and on her +hands and arms a long pair of motoring doeskin gloves. By George, she +was a winner—in general looks, though. Well, something about the clerk, +I suppose, must have aroused her suspicions. For, a moment later, she +was gone in the crowd. Evidently she had thought of the danger and had +picked out a time when the lobby would be full and everybody busy. But +she did not leave by the front entrance through which she entered. I +concluded that she must have left by one of the side street carriage +doors.” + +“And she got away?” + +“Yes. I found that she asked one of the boys at the door to crank up a +car standing at the curb. She slid into the seat, and was off in a +minute.” + +Kennedy said nothing. But I knew that he was making a mighty effort to +restrain comment on the bungling amateur detective work of the son of +our client. + +Reginald saw the look on his face. “Still,” he hastened, “I got the +number of the car. It was 200859 New York.” + +“You have looked it up?” queried Kennedy quickly. + +“I didn’t need to do it. A few minutes later Dr. Rae Wilson herself +came out—storming like mad. Her car had been stolen at the very door of +the hotel by this woman with the innocent aid of the hotel employees.” + +Kennedy was evidently keenly interested. The mention of the stolen car +had apparently at once suggested an idea to him. + +“Mrs. Blake,” he said, as he rose to go, “I shall take this letter with +me. Will you see that Buster is sent up to my laboratory immediately?” + +She nodded. It was evident that Buster was a great pet with her and +that it was with difficulty she kept from smoothing his silky coat. + +“You—you won’t hurt Buster?” she pleaded. + +“No. Trust me. More than that, if there is any possible way of +untangling this mystery, I shall do it.” + +Mrs. Blake looked rather than spoke her thanks. As we went downstairs, +accompanied by Miss Sears, we could see in the music room a very +interesting couple, chatting earnestly over the piano. + +Betty Blake, a slip of a girl in her first season, was dividing her +attention between her visitor and the door by which we were passing. + +She rose as she heard us, leaving the young man standing alone at the +piano. He was of an age perhaps a year or two older than Reginald +Blake. It was evident that, whatever Miss Betty might think, he had +eyes for no one else but the pretty debutante. He even seemed to be +regarding Kennedy sullenly, as if he were a possible rival. + +“You—you don’t think it is serious?” whispered Betty in an undertone, +scarcely waiting to be introduced. She had evidently known of our +visit, but had been unable to get away to be present upstairs. + +“Really, Miss Blake,” reassured Kennedy, “I can’t say. All I can do is +to repeat what I have already said to your mother. Keep up a good heart +and trust me to work it out.” + +“Thank you,” she murmured, and then, impulsively extending her small +hand to Craig, she added, “Mr. Kennedy, if there is anything I can do +to help you, I beg that you will call on me.” + +“I shall not forget,” he answered, relinquishing the hand reluctantly. +Then, as she thanked him, and turned again to her guest, he added in a +low tone to me, “A remarkable girl, Walter, a girl that can be depended +on.” + +We followed Miss Sears down the hall. + +“Who was that young man in the music room?” asked Kennedy, when we were +out of earshot. + +“Duncan Baldwin,” she answered. “A friend and bosom companion of +Reginald.” + +“He seems to think more of Betty than of her brother,” Craig remarked +dryly. + +Miss Sears smiled. “Sometimes, we think they are secretly engaged,” she +returned. We had almost reached the door. “By the way,” she asked +anxiously, “do you think there are any precautions that I should take +for Mrs. Blake—and the rest?” + +“Hardly,” answered Kennedy, after a moment’s consideration, “as long as +you have taken none in particular already. Still, I suppose it will do +no harm to be as antiseptic as possible.” + +“I shall try,” she promised, her face showing that she considered the +affair now in a much more serious light than she had before our visit. + +“And keep me informed of anything that turns up,” added Kennedy handing +her a card with the telephone number of the laboratory. + +As we left the Blake mansion, Kennedy remarked, “We must trace that car +somehow—at least we must get someone working on that.” + +Half an hour later we were in a towering office building on Liberty +Street, the home of various kinds of insurance. Kennedy stopped before +a door which bore the name, “Douglas Garwood: Insurance Adjuster.” + +Briefly, Craig told the story of the stolen car, omitting the account +of the dastardly method taken to blackmail Mrs. Blake. As he proceeded +a light seemed to break on the face of Garwood, a heavyset man, whose +very gaze was inquisitorial. + +“Yes, the theft has been reported to us already by Dr. Wilson herself,” +he interrupted. “The car was insured in a company I represent.” + +“I had hoped so,” remarked Kennedy, “Do you know the woman?” he added, +watching the insurance adjuster who had been listening intently as he +told about the fair motor car thief. + +“Know her?” repeated Garwood emphatically. “Why, man, we have been so +close to that woman that I feel almost intimate with her. The +descriptions are those of a lady, well-dressed, and with a voice and +manner that would carry her through any of the fashionable hotels, +perhaps into society itself.” + +“One of a gang of blackmailers, then,” I hazarded. + +Garwood shrugged his shoulders. “Perhaps,” he acquiesced. “It is +automobile thieving that interests me, though. Why,” he went on, rising +excitedly, “the gangs of these thieves are getting away with half a +million dollars’ worth of high-priced cars every year. The police seem +to be powerless to stop it. We appeal to them, but with no result. So, +now we have taken things into our own hands.” + +“What are you doing in this case?” asked Kennedy. + +“What the insurance companies have to do to recover stolen +automobiles,” Garwood replied. “For, with all deference to your friend, +Deputy O’Connor, it is the insurance companies rather than the police +who get stolen cars back.” + +He had pulled out a postal card from a pigeon hole in his desk, +selecting it from several apparently similar. We read: + +$250.00 REWARD + + +We will pay $100.00 for car, $150.00 additional for information which +will convict the thief. When last seen, driven by a woman, name not +known, who is described as dark-haired, well-dressed, slight, +apparently thirty years old. The car is a Dixon, 1912, seven-passenger, +touring, No. 193,222, license No. 200,859, New York; dark red body, +mohair top, brass lamps, has no wind shield; rear axle brake band +device has extra nut on turnbuckle not painted. Car last seen near +Prince Henry Hotel, New York City, Friday, the 10th. + +Communicate by telegraph or telephone, after notifying nearest police +department, with Douglas Garwood, New York City. + +“The secret of it is,” explained Garwood, as we finished reading, “that +there are innumerable people who keep their eyes open and like to earn +money easily. Thus we have several hundreds of amateur and enthusiastic +detectives watching all over the city and country for any car that +looks suspicious.” + +Kennedy thanked him for his courtesy, and we rose to go. “I shall be +glad to keep you informed of anything that turns up,” he promised. + + + + +CHAPTER XX +THE ARTIFICIAL KIDNEY + + +In the laboratory, Kennedy quietly set to work. He began by tearing +from the germ letter the piece of gelatine and first examining it with +a pocket lens. Then, with a sterile platinum wire, he picked out +several minute sections of the black spot on the gelatine and placed +them in agar, blood serum, and other media on which they would be +likely to grow. + +“I shall have to wait until to-morrow to examine them properly,” he +remarked. “There are colonies of something there, all right, but I must +have them more fully developed.” + +A hurried telephone call late in the day from Miss Sears told us that +Mrs. Blake herself had begun to complain, and that Dr. Wilson had been +summoned but had been unable to give an opinion on the nature of the +malady. + +Kennedy quickly decided on making a visit to the doctor, who lived not +far downtown from the laboratory. + +Dr. Rae Wilson proved to be a nervous little woman, inclined, I felt, +to be dictatorial. I thought that secretly she felt a little piqued at +our having been taken into the Blakes’ confidence before herself, and +Kennedy made every effort to smooth that aspect over tactfully. + +“Have you any idea what it can be?” he asked finally. + +She shook her head noncommittally. “I have taken blood smears,” she +answered, “but so far haven’t been able to discover anything. I shall +have to have her under observation for a day or two before I can answer +that. Still, as Mrs. Blake is so ill, I have ordered another trained +nurse to relieve Miss Sears of the added work, a very efficient nurse, +a Miss Rogers.” + +Kennedy had risen to go. “You have had no word about your car?” he +asked casually. + +“None yet. I’m not worrying. It was insured.” + +“Who is this arch criminal, Dr. Hopf?” I mused as we retraced our steps +to the laboratory. “Is Mrs. Blake stricken now by the same trouble that +seems to have affected Buster?” + +“Only my examination will show,” he said. “I shall let nothing +interfere with that now. It must be the starting point for any work +that I may do in the case.” + +We arrived at Kennedy’s workshop of scientific crime and he immediately +plunged into work. Looking up he caught sight of me standing helplessly +idle. + +“Walter,” he remarked thoughtfully adjusting a microscope, “suppose you +run down and see Garwood. Perhaps he has something to report. And by +the way, while you are out, make inquiries about the Blakes, young +Baldwin, Miss Sears and this Dr. Wilson. I have heard of her before, at +least by name. Perhaps you may find something interesting.” + +Glad to have a chance to seem to be doing something whether it amounted +to anything or not, I dropped in to see Garwood. So far he had nothing +to report except the usual number of false alarms. From his office I +went up to the _Star_ where fortunately I found one of the reporters +who wrote society notes. + +The Blakes, I found, as we already knew, to be well known and moving in +the highest social circles. As far as known they had no particular +enemies, other than those common to all people of great wealth. Dr. +Wilson had a large practice, built up in recent years, and was one of +the best known society physicians for women. Miss Sears was unknown, as +far as I could determine. As for Duncan Baldwin, I found that he had +become acquainted with Reginald Blake in college, that he came of no +particular family and seemed to have no great means, although he was +very popular in the best circles. In fact he had had, thanks to his +friend, a rather meteoric rise in society, though it was reported that +he was somewhat involved in debt as a result. + +I returned to the laboratory to find that Craig had taken out of a +cabinet a peculiar looking arrangement. It consisted of thirty-two +tubes, each about sixteen inches long, with S-turns, like a minute +radiator. It was altogether not over a cubic foot in size, and enclosed +in a glass cylinder. There were in it, perhaps, fifty feet of tubes, a +perfectly-closed tubular system which I noticed Kennedy was keeping +absolutely sterile in a germicidal solution of some kind. + +Inside the tubes and surrounding them was a saline solution which was +kept at a uniform temperature by a special heating apparatus. + +Kennedy had placed the apparatus on the laboratory table and then +gently took the little dog from his basket and laid him beside it. A +few minutes later the poor little suffering Buster was mercifully under +the influence of an anesthetic. + +Quickly Craig worked. First he attached the end of one of the tubes by +means of a little cannula to the carotid artery of the dog. Then the +other was attached to the jugular vein. + +As he released the clamp which held the artery, the little dog’s +feverishly beating heart spurted the arterial blood from the carotid +into the tubes holding the normal salt solution and that pressure, in +turn, pumped the salt solution which filled the tubes into the jugular +vein, thus replacing the arterial blood that had poured into the tubes +from the other end and maintaining the normal hydrostatic conditions in +the body circulation. The dog was being kept alive, although perhaps a +third of his blood was out of his body. + +“You see,” he said at length, after we had watched the process a few +minutes, “what I have here is in reality an artificial kidney. It is a +system that has been devised by several doctors at Johns Hopkins. + +“If there is any toxin in the blood of this dog, the kidneys are +naturally endeavoring to eliminate it. Perhaps it is being eliminated +too slowly. In that case this arrangement which I have here will aid +them. We call it vividiffusion and it depends for its action on the +physical principle of osmosis, the passage of substances of a certain +kind through a porous membrane, such as these tubes of celloidin. + +“Thus any substance, any poison that is dialyzable is diffused into the +surrounding salt solution and the blood is passed back into the body, +with no air in it, no infection, and without alteration. Clotting is +prevented by the injection of a harmless substance derived from +leeches, known as hirudin. I prevent the loss of anything in the blood +which I want retained by placing in the salt solution around the tubes +an amount of that substance equal to that held in solution by the +blood. Of course that does not apply to the colloidal substances in the +blood which would not pass by osmosis under any circumstances. But by +such adjustments I can remove and study any desired substance in the +blood, provided it is capable of diffusion. In fact this little +apparatus has been found in practice to compare favorably with the +kidneys themselves in removing even a lethal dose of poison.” + +I watched in amazement. He was actually cleaning the blood of the dog +and putting it back again, purified, into the little body. Far from +being cruel, as perhaps it might seem, it was in reality probably the +only method by which the animal could be saved, and at the same time it +was giving us a clue as to some elusive, subtle substance used in the +case. + +“Indeed,” Kennedy went on reflectively, “this process can be kept up +for several hours without injury to the dog, though I do not think that +will be necessary to relieve the unwonted strain that has been put upon +his natural organs. Finally, at the close of the operation, serious +loss of blood is overcome by driving back the greater part of it into +his body, closing up the artery and vein, and taking good care of the +animal so that he will make a quick recovery.” + +For a long time I watched the fascinating process of seeing the life +blood coursing through the porous tubes in the salt solution, while +Kennedy gave his undivided attention to the success of the delicate +experiment. It was late when I left him, still at work over Buster, and +went up to our apartment to turn in, convinced that nothing more would +happen that night. + +The next morning, with characteristic energy, Craig was at work early, +examining the cultures he had made from the black spots on the +gelatine. + +By the look of perplexity on his face, I knew that he had discovered +something that instead of clearing the mystery up, further deepened it. + +“What do you find?” I asked anxiously. + +“Walter,” he exclaimed, laying aside the last of the slides which he +had been staining and looking at intently through the microscope, “that +stuff on the gelatine is entirely harmless. There was nothing in it +except common mold.” + +For the moment I did not comprehend. “Mold?” I repeated. + +“Yes,” he replied, “just common, ordinary mold such as grows on the top +of a jar of fruit or preserves when it is exposed to the air.” + +I stifled an exclamation of incredulity. It seemed impossible that the +deadly germ note should be harmless, in view of the events that had +followed its receipt. + +Just then the laboratory door was flung open and Reginald Blake, pale +and excited, entered. He had every mark of having been up all night. + +“What’s the matter?” asked Craig. + +“It’s about my mother,” he blurted out. “She seems to be getting worse +all the time. Miss Sears is alarmed, and Betty is almost ill herself +with worry. Dr. Wilson doesn’t seem to know what it is that affects +her, and neither does the new nurse. Can’t you _do_ something?” + +There was a tone of appeal in his voice that was not like the +self-sufficient Reginald of the day before. + +“Does there seem to be any immediate danger?” asked Kennedy. + +“Perhaps not—I can’t say,” he urged. “But she is gradually getting +worse instead of better.” + +Kennedy thought a moment. “Has anything else happened?” he asked +slowly. + +“N-no. That’s enough, isn’t it?” + +“Indeed it is,” replied Craig, trying to be reassuring. Then, +recollecting Betty, he added, “Reginald, go back and tell your sister +for me that she must positively make the greatest effort of her life to +control herself. Tell her that her mother needs her—needs her well and +brave. I shall be up at the house immediately. Do the best you can. I +depend on you.” + +Kennedy’s words seemed to have a bracing effect on Reginald and a few +moments later he left, much calmer. + +“I hope I have given him something to do which will keep him from +mussing things up again,” remarked Kennedy, mindful of Reginald’s +former excursion into detective work. + +Meanwhile Craig plunged furiously into his study of the substances he +had isolated from the saline solution in which he had “washed” the +blood of the little Pekinese. + +“There’s no use doing anything in the dark,” he explained. “Until we +know what it is we are fighting we can’t very well fight.” + +For the moment I was overwhelmed by the impending tragedy that seemed +to be hanging over Mrs. Blake. The more I thought of it, the more +inexplicable became the discovery of the mold. + +“That is all very well about the mold on the gelatine strip in the +letter,” I insisted at length. “But, Craig, there must be something +wrong somewhere. Mere molds could not have made Buster so ill, and now +the infection, or whatever it is, has spread to Mrs. Blake herself. +What have you found out by studying Buster?” + +He looked up from his close scrutiny of the material in one of the test +tubes which contained something he had recovered from the saline +solution of the diffusion apparatus. + +I could read on his face that whatever it was, it was serious. “What is +it?” I repeated almost breathlessly. + +“I suppose I might coin a word to describe it,” he answered slowly, +measuring his phrases. “Perhaps it might be called +hyper-amino-acidemia.” + +I puckered my eyes at the mouth-filling term Kennedy smiled. “It would +mean,” he explained, “a great quantity of the amino-acids, +non-coagulable, nitrogenous compounds in the blood. You know the +indols, the phenols, and the amins are produced both by putrefactive +bacteria and by the process of metabolism, the burning up of the +tissues in the process of utilizing the energy that means life. But +under normal circumstances, the amins are not present in the blood in +any such quantities as I have discovered by this new method of +diffusion.” + +He paused a moment, as if in deference to my inability to follow him on +such an abstruse topic, then resumed, “As far as I am able to +determine, this poison or toxin is an amin similar to that secreted by +certain cephalopods found in the neighborhood of Naples. It is an +aromatic amin. Smell it.” + +I bent over and inhaled the peculiar odor. + +“Those creatures,” he continued, “catch their prey by this highly +active poison secreted by the so-called salivary glands. Even a little +bit will kill a crab easily.” + +I was following him now with intense interest, thinking of the +astuteness of a mind capable of thinking of such a poison. + +“Indeed, it is surprising,” he resumed thoughtfully, “how many an +innocent substance can be changed by bacteria into a virulent poison. +In fact our poisons and our drugs are in many instances the close +relations of harmless compounds that represent the intermediate steps +in the daily process of metabolism.” + +“Then,” I put in, “the toxin was produced by germs, after all?” + +“I did not say that,” he corrected. “It might have been. But I find no +germs in the blood of Buster. Nor did Dr. Wilson find any in the blood +smears which she took from Mrs. Blake.” + +He seemed to have thrown the whole thing back again into the limbo of +the unexplainable, and I felt nonplussed. + +“The writer of that letter,” he went on, waving the piece of sterile +platinum wire with which he had been transferring drops of liquid in +his search for germs, “was a much more skillful bacteriologist than I +thought, evidently. No, the trouble does not seem to be from germs +breathed in, or from germs at all—it is from some kind of germ-free +toxin that has been injected or otherwise introduced.” + +Vaguely now I began to appreciate the terrible significance of what he +had discovered. + +“But the letter?” I persisted mechanically. + +“The writer of that was quite as shrewd a psychologist as +bacteriologist,” pursued Craig impressively. “He calculated the moral +effect of the letter, then of Buster’s illness, and finally of reaching +Mrs. Blake herself.” + +“You think Dr. Rae Wilson knows nothing of it yet?” I queried. + +Kennedy appeared to consider his answer carefully. Then he said slowly: +“Almost any doctor with a microscope and the faintest trace of a +scientific education could recognize disease germs either naturally or +feloniously implanted. But when it comes to the detection of +concentrated, filtered, germ-free toxins, almost any scientist might be +baffled. Walter,” he concluded, “this is not mere blackmail, although +perhaps the visit of that woman to the Prince Henry—a desperate thing +in itself, although she did get away by her quick thinking—perhaps that +shows that these people are ready to stop at nothing. No, it goes +deeper than blackmail.” + +I stood aghast at the discovery of this new method of scientific +murder. The astute criminal, whoever he might be, had planned to leave +not even the slender clue that might be afforded by disease germs. He +was operating, not with disease itself, but with something showing the +ultimate effects, perhaps, of disease with none of the preliminary +symptoms, baffling even to the best of physicians. + +I scarcely knew what to say. Before I realized it, however, Craig was +at last ready for the promised visit to Mrs. Blake. We went together, +carrying Buster, in his basket, not recovered, to be sure, but a very +different little animal from the dying creature that had been sent to +us at the laboratory. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI +THE POISON BRACELET + + +We reached the Blake mansion and were promptly admitted. Miss Betty, +bearing up bravely under Reginald’s reassurances, greeted us before we +were fairly inside the door, though she and her brother were not able +to conceal the fact that their mother was no better. Miss Sears was +out, for an airing, and the new nurse, Miss Rogers, was in charge of +the patient. + +“How do you feel, this morning?” inquired Kennedy as we entered the +sun-parlor, where Mrs. Blake had first received us. + +A single glance was enough to satisfy me of the seriousness of her +condition. She seemed to be in almost a stupor from which she roused +herself only with difficulty. It was as if some overpowering toxin were +gradually undermining her already weakened constitution. + +She nodded recognition, but nothing further. + +Kennedy had set the dog basket down near her wheel-chair and she caught +sight of it. + +“Buster?” she murmured, raising her eyes. “Is—he—all right?” + +For answer, Craig simply raised the lid of the basket. Buster already +seemed to have recognized the voice of his mistress, and, with an +almost human instinct, to realize that though he himself was still weak +and ill, she needed encouragement. + +As Mrs. Blake stretched out her slender hand, drawn with pain, to his +silky head, he gave a little yelp of delight and his little red tongue +eagerly caressed her hand. + +It was as though the two understood each other. Although Mrs. Blake, as +yet, had no more idea what had happened to her pet, she seemed to feel +by some subtle means of thought transference that the intelligent +little animal was conveying to her a message of hope. The caress, the +sharp, joyous yelp, and the happy wagging of the bushy tail seemed to +brighten her up, at least for the moment, almost as if she had received +a new impetus. + +“Buster!” she exclaimed, overjoyed to get her pet back again in so much +improved condition. + +“I wouldn’t exert myself too much, Mrs. Blake,” cautioned Kennedy. + +“Were—were there any germs in the letter?” she asked, as Reginald and +Betty stood on the other side of the chair, much encouraged, +apparently, at this show of throwing off the lethargy that had seized +her. + +“Yes, but about as harmless as those would be on a piece of cheese,” +Kennedy hastened. “But I—I feel so weak, so played out—and my head—” + +Her voice trailed off, a too evident reminder that her improvement had +been only momentary and prompted by the excitement of our arrival. + +Betty bent down solicitously and made her more comfortable as only one +woman can make another. Kennedy, meanwhile, had been talking to Miss +Rogers, and I could see that he was secretly taking her measure. + +“Has Dr. Wilson been here this morning?” I heard him ask. + +“Not yet,” she replied. “But we expect her soon.” + +“Professor Kennedy?” announced a servant. + +“Yes?” answered Craig. + +“There is someone on the telephone who wants to speak to you. He said +he had called the laboratory first and that they told him to call you +here.” + +Kennedy hurried after the servant, while Betty and Reginald joined me, +waiting, for we seemed to feel that something was about to happen. + +“One of the unofficial detectives has unearthed a clue,” he whispered +to me a few moments later when he returned. “It was Garwood.” Then to +the others he added, “A car, repainted, and with the number changed, +but otherwise answering the description of Dr. Wilson’s has been traced +to the West Side. It is somewhere in the neighborhood of a saloon and +garage where drivers of taxicabs hang out. Reginald, I wish you would +come along with us.” + +To Betty’s unspoken question Craig hastened to add, “I don’t think +there is any immediate danger. If there is any change—let me know. I +shall call up soon. And meanwhile,” he lowered his voice to impress the +instruction on her, “don’t leave your mother for a moment—not for a +moment,” he emphasized. + +Reginald was ready and together we three set off to meet Garwood at a +subway station near the point where the car had been reported. We had +scarcely closed the front door, when we ran into Duncan Baldwin, coming +down the street, evidently bent on inquiring how Mrs. Blake and Betty +were. + +“Much better,” reassured Kennedy. “Come on, Baldwin. We can’t have too +many on whom we can rely on an expedition like this.” + +“Like what?” he asked, evidently not comprehending. + +“There’s a clue, they think, to that car of Dr. Wilson’s,” hastily +explained Reginald, linking his arm into that of his friend and falling +in behind us, as Craig hurried ahead. + +It did not take long to reach the subway, and as we waited for the +train, Craig remarked: “This is a pretty good example of how the +automobile is becoming one of the most dangerous of criminal weapons. +All one has to do nowadays, apparently, after committing a crime, is to +jump into a waiting car and breeze away, safe.” + +We met Garwood and under his guidance picked our way westward from the +better known streets in the heart of the city, to a section that was +anything but prepossessing. + +The place which Garwood sought was a typical Raines Law hotel on a +corner, with a saloon on the first floor, and apparently the requisite +number of rooms above to give it a legal license. + +We had separated a little so that we would not attract undue attention. +Kennedy and I entered the swinging doors boldly, while the others +continued across to the other corner to wait with Garwood and take in +the situation. It was a strange expedition and Reginald was fidgeting +while Duncan seemed nervous. + +Among the group of chauffeurs lounging at the bar and in the back room +anyone who had ever had any dealings with the gangs of New York might +have recognized the faces of men whose pictures were in the rogues’ +gallery and who were members of those various aristocratic +organizations of the underworld. + +Kennedy glanced about at the motley crowd. “This is a place where you +need only to be introduced properly,” he whispered to me, “to have any +kind of crime committed for you.” + +As we stood there, observing, without appearing to do so, through an +open window on the side street I could tell from the sounds that there +was a garage in the rear of the hotel. + +We were startled to hear a sudden uproar from the street. + +Garwood, impatient at our delay, had walked down past the garage to +reconnoiter. A car was being backed out hurriedly, and as it turned and +swung around the corner, his trained eye had recognized it. + +Instantly he had reasoned that it was an attempt to make a getaway, and +had raised an alarm. + +Those nearest the door piled out, keen for any excitement. We, too, +dashed out on the street. There we saw passing an automobile, swaying +and lurching at the terrific speed with which its driver, urged it up +the avenue. As he flashed by he looked like an Italian to me, perhaps a +gunman. + +Garwood had impressed a passing trolley car into service and was +pursuing the automobile in it, as it swayed on its tracks as crazily as +the motor did on the roadway, running with all the power the motorman +could apply. + +A mounted policeman galloped past us, blazing away at the tires. The +avenue was stirred, as seldom even in its strenuous life, with reports +of shots, honking of horns, the clang of trolley bells and the shouts +of men. + +The pursuers were losing when there came a rattle and roar from the +rear wheels which told that the tires were punctured and the heavy car +was riding on its rims. A huge brewery wagon crossing a side street +paused to see the fun, effectually blocking the road. + +The car jolted to a stop. The chauffeur leaped out and a moment later +dived down into a cellar. In that congested district, pursuit was +useless. + +“Only an accomplice,” commented Kennedy. “Perhaps we can get him some +other way if we can catch the man—or woman—higher up.” + +Down the street now we could see Garwood surrounded by a curious crowd +but in possession of the car. I looked about for Duncan and Reginald. +They had apparently been swallowed up in the crowds of idlers which +seemed to be pouring out of nowhere, collecting to gape at the +excitement, after the manner of a New York crowd. + +As I ran my eye over them, I caught sight of Reginald near the corner +where we had left him in an incipient fight with someone who had a +fancied grievance. A moment later we had rescued him. + +“Where’s Duncan?” he panted. “Did anything happen to him? Garwood told +us to stay here—but we got separated.” + +Policemen had appeared on the heels of the crowd and now, except for a +knot following Garwood, things seemed to be calming down. + +The excitement over, and the people thinning out, Kennedy still could +not find any trace of Duncan. Finally he glanced in again through the +swinging doors. There was Duncan, evidently quite upset by what had +occurred, fortifying himself at the bar. + +Suddenly from above came a heavy thud, as if someone had fallen on the +floor above us, followed by a suppressed shuffling of feet and a cry of +help. + +Kennedy sprang toward a side door which led out into the hall to the +hotel room above. It was locked. Before any of the others he ran out on +the street and into the hall that way, taking the stairs two at a time, +past a little cubby-hole of an “office” and down the upper hall to a +door from which came the cry. + +It was a peculiar room into which we burst, half bedroom, half +workshop, or rather laboratory, for on a deal table by a window stood a +rack of test-tubes, several beakers, and other paraphernalia. + +A chambermaid was shrieking over a woman who was lying lethargic on the +floor. + +I looked more closely. + +It was Dora Sears. + +For the moment I could not imagine what had happened. Had the events of +the past few days worked on her mind and driven her into temporary +insanity? Or had the blackmailing gang of automobile thieves, failing +in extorting money by their original plan, seized her? + +Kennedy bent over and tried to lift her up. As he did so, the gold +bracelet, unclasped, clattered to the floor. + +He picked it up and for a moment looked at it. It was hollow, but in +that part of it where it unclasped could be seen a minute hypodermic +needle and traces of a liquid. + +“A poison bracelet,” he muttered to himself, “one in which enough of a +virulent poison could be hidden so that in an emergency death could +cheat the law.” + +“But this Dr. Hopf,” exclaimed Reginald, who stood behind us looking +from the insensible girl to the bracelet and slowly comprehending what +it all meant, “she alone knows where and who he is!” + +We looked at Kennedy. What was to be done? Was the criminal higher up +to escape because one of his tools had been cornered and had taken the +easiest way to get out? + +Kennedy had taken down the receiver of the wall telephone in the room. +A moment later he was calling insistently for his laboratory. One of +the students in another part of the building answered. Quickly he +described the apparatus for vividiffusion and how to handle it without +rupturing any of the delicate tubes. + +“The large one,” he ordered, “with one hundred and ninety-two tubes. +And hurry.” + +Before the student appeared, came an ambulance which some one in the +excitement had summoned. Kennedy quickly commandeered both the young +doctor and what surgical material he had with him. + +Briefly he explained what he proposed to do and before the student +arrived with the apparatus, they had placed the nurse in such a +position that they were ready for the operation. + +The next room which was unoccupied had been thrown open to us and there +I waited with Reginald and Duncan, endeavoring to explain to them the +mysteries of the new process of washing the blood. + +The minutes lengthened into hours, as the blood of the poisoned girl +coursed through its artificial channel, literally being washed of the +toxin from the poisoned bracelet. + +Would it succeed? It had saved the life of Buster. But would it bring +back the unfortunate before us, long enough even for her to yield her +secret and enable us to catch the real criminal. What if she died? + +As Kennedy worked, the young men with me became more and more +fascinated, watching him. The vividiffusion apparatus was now in full +operation. + +In the intervals when he left the apparatus in charge of the young +ambulance surgeon Kennedy was looking over the room. In a trunk which +was open he found several bundles of papers. As he ran his eye over +them quickly, he selected some and stuffed them into his pocket, then +went back to watch the working of the apparatus. + +Reginald, who had been growing more and more nervous, at last asked if +he might call up Betty to find out how his mother was. + +He came back from the telephone, his face wrinkled. + +“Poor mother,” he remarked anxiously, “do you think she will pull +through, Professor? Betty says that Dr. Wilson has given her no idea +yet about the nature of the trouble.” + +Kennedy thought a moment. “Of course,” he said, “your mother has had no +such relative amount of the poison as Buster has had. I think that +undoubtedly she will recover by purely natural means. I hope so. But if +not, here is the apparatus,” and he patted the vividiffusion tubes in +their glass case, “that will save her, too.” + +As well as I could I explained to Reginald the nature of the toxin that +Kennedy had discovered. Duncan listened, putting in a question now and +then. But it was evident that his thoughts were on something else, and +now and then Reginald, breaking into his old humor, rallied him about +thinking of Betty. + +A low exclamation from both Kennedy and the surgeon attracted us. + +Dora Sears had moved. + +The operation of the apparatus was stopped, the artery and vein had +been joined up, and she was slowly coming out from under the effects of +the anesthetic. + +As we gathered about her, at a little distance, we heard her cry in her +delirium, “I—I would have—done—anything—for him.” + +We strained our ears. Was she talking of the blackmailer, Dr. Hopf? + +“Who?” asked Craig, bending over close to her ear. + +“I—I would—have done anything,” she repeated as if someone had +contradicted her. She went on, dreamily, ramblingly, “He—is—is—my +brother. I—” + +She stopped through weakness. + +“Where is Dr. Hopf?” asked Kennedy, trying to recall her fleeting +attention. + +“Dr. Hopf? Dr. Hopf?” she repeated, then smiling to herself as people +will when they are leaving the borderline of anesthesia, she repeated +the name, “Hopf?” + +“Yes,” persisted Kennedy. + +“There is no Dr. Hopf,” she added. “Tell me—did—did they—” + +“No Dr. Hopf?” Kennedy insisted. + +She had lapsed again into half insensibility. + +He rose and faced us, speaking rapidly. + +“New York seems to have a mysterious and uncanny attraction for odds +and ends of humanity, among them the great army of adventuresses. In +fact there often seems to be something decidedly adventurous about the +nursing profession. This is a girl of unusual education in medicine. +Evidently she has traveled—her letters show it. Many of them show that +she has been in Italy. Perhaps it was there that she heard of the drug +that has been used in this case. It was she who injected the germ-free +toxin, first into the dog, then into Mrs. Blake, she who wrote the +blackmail letter which was to have explained the death.” + +He paused. Evidently she had heard dimly, was straining every effort to +hear. In her effort she caught sight of our faces. + +Suddenly, as if she had seen an apparition, she raised herself with +almost superhuman strength. + +“Duncan!” she cried. “Duncan! Why—didn’t you—get away—while there was +time—after you warned me?” + +Kennedy had wheeled about and was facing us. He was holding in his hand +some of the letters he had taken from the trunk. Among others was a +folded piece of parchment that looked like a diploma. He unfolded it +and we bent over to read. + +It was a diploma from the Central Western College of Nursing. As I read +the name written in, it was with a shock. It was not Dora Sears, but +Dora Baldwin. + +“A very clever plot,” he ground out, taking a step nearer us. “With the +aid of your sister and a disreputable gang of chauffeurs you planned to +hasten the death of Mrs. Blake, to hasten the inheritance of the Blake +fortune by your future wife. I think your creditors will have less +chance of collecting now than ever, Duncan Baldwin.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXII +THE DEVIL WORSHIPERS + + +Tragic though the end of the young nurse, Dora Baldwin, had been, the +scheme of her brother, in which she had become fatally involved, was by +no means as diabolical as that in the case that confronted us a short +time after that. + +I recall this case particularly not only because it was so weird but +also because of the unique manner in which it began. + +“I am damned—Professor Kennedy—damned!” + +The words rang out as the cry of a lost soul. A terrible look of +inexpressible anguish and fear was written on the face of Craig’s +visitor, as she uttered them and sank back, trembling, in the easy +chair, mentally and physically convulsed. + +As nearly as I had been able to follow, Mrs. Veda Blair’s story had +dealt mostly with a Professor and Madame Rapport and something she +called the “Red Lodge” of the “Temple of the Occult.” + +She was not exactly a young woman, although she was a very attractive +one. She was of an age that is, perhaps, even more interesting than +youth. + +Veda Blair, I knew, had been, before her recent marriage to Seward +Blair, a Treacy, of an old, though somewhat unfortunate, family. Both +the Blairs and the Treacys had been intimate and old Seward Blair, when +he died about a year before, had left his fortune to his son on the +condition that he marry Veda Treacy. + +“Sometimes,” faltered Mrs. Blair, “it is as though I had two souls. One +of them is dispossessed of its body and the use of its organs and is +frantic at the sight of the other that has crept in.” + +She ended her rambling story, sobbing the terrible words, “Oh—I have +committed the unpardonable sin—I am anathema—I am damned—damned!” + +She said nothing of what terrible thing she had done and Kennedy, for +the present, did not try to lead the conversation. But of all the +stories that I have heard poured forth in the confessional of the +detective’s office, hers, I think, was the wildest. + +Was she insane? At least I felt that she was sincere. Still, I wondered +what sort of hallucination Craig had to deal with, as Veda Blair +repeated the incoherent tale of her spiritual vagaries. + +Almost, I had begun to fancy that this was a case for a doctor, not for +a detective, when suddenly she asked a most peculiar question. + +“Can people affect you for good or evil, merely by thinking about you?” +she queried. Then a shudder passed over her. “They may be thinking +about me now!” she murmured in terror. + +Her fear was so real and her physical distress so evident that Kennedy, +who had been listening silently for the most part, rose and hastened to +reassure her. + +“Not unless you make your own fears affect yourself and so play into +their hands,” he said earnestly. + +Veda looked at him a moment, then shook her head mournfully. “I have +seen Dr. Vaughn,” she said slowly. + +Dr. Gilbert Vaughn, I recollected, was a well-known alienist in the +city. + +“He tried to tell me the same thing,” she resumed doubtfully. “But—oh—I +know what I know! I have felt the death thought—and he knows it!” + +“What do you mean?” inquired Kennedy, leaning forward keenly. + +“The death thought,” she repeated, “a malicious psychic attack. Some +one is driving me to death by it. I thought I could fight it off. I +went away to escape it. Now I have come back—and I have not escaped. +There is always that disturbing influence—always—directed against me. I +know it will—kill me!” + +I listened, startled. The death thought! What did it mean? What +terrible power was it? Was it hypnotism? What was this fearsome, cruel +belief, this modern witchcraft that could unnerve a rich and educated +woman? Surely, after all, I felt that this was not a case for a doctor +alone; it called for a detective. + +“You see,” she went on, heroically trying to control herself, “I have +always been interested in the mysterious, the strange, the occult. In +fact my father and my husband’s father met through their common +interest. So, you see, I come naturally by it. + +“Not long ago I heard of Professor and Madame Rapport and their new +Temple of the Occult. I went to it, and later Seward became interested, +too. We have been taken into a sort of inner circle,” she continued +fearfully, as though there were some evil power in the very words +themselves, “the Red Lodge.” + +“You have told Dr. Vaughn?” shot out Kennedy suddenly, his eyes fixed +on her face to see what it would betray. + +Veda leaned forward, as if to tell a secret, then whispered in a low +voice, “He knows. Like us—he—he is a—Devil Worshiper!” + +“What?” exclaimed Kennedy in wide-eyed astonishment. + +“A Devil Worshiper,” she repeated. “You haven’t heard of the Red +Lodge?” + +Kennedy nodded negatively. “Could you get us—initiated?” he hazarded. + +“P—perhaps,” she hesitated, in a half-frightened tone. “I—I’ll try to +get you in to-night.” + +She had risen, half dazed, as if her own temerity overwhelmed her. + +“You—poor girl,” blurted out Kennedy, his sympathies getting the upper +hand for the moment as he took the hand she extended mutely. “Trust me. +I will do all in my power, all in the power of modern science to help +you fight off this—influence.” + +There must have been something magnetic, hypnotic in his eye. + +“I will stop here for you,” she murmured, as she almost fled from the +room. + +Personally, I cannot say that I liked the idea of spying. It is not +usually clean and wholesome. But I realized that occasionally it was +necessary. + +“We are in for it now,” remarked Kennedy half humorously, half +seriously, “to see the Devil in the twentieth century.” + +“And I,” I added, “I am, I suppose, to be the reporter to Satan.” + +We said nothing more about it, but I thought much about it, and the +more I thought, the more incomprehensible the thing seemed. I had heard +of Devil Worship, but had always associated it with far-off Indian and +other heathen lands—in fact never among Caucasians in modern times, +except possibly in Paris. Was there such a cult here in my own city? I +felt skeptical. + +That night, however, promptly at the appointed time, a cab called for +us, and in it was Veda Blair, nervous but determined. + +“Seward has gone ahead,” she explained. “I told him that a friend had +introduced you, that you had studied the occult abroad. I trust you to +carry it out.” + +Kennedy reassured her. + +The curtains were drawn and we could see nothing outside, though we +must have been driven several miles, far out into the suburbs. + +At last the cab stopped. As we left it we could see nothing of the +building, for the cab had entered a closed courtyard. + +“Who enters the Red Lodge?” challenged a sepulchral voice at the +porte-cochère. “Give the password!” + +“The Serpent’s Tooth,” Veda answered. + +“Who are these?” asked the voice. + +“Neophytes,” she replied, and a whispered parley followed. + +“Then enter!” announced the voice at length. + +It was a large room into which we were first ushered, to be inducted +into the rites of Satan. + +There seemed to be both men and women, perhaps half a dozen votaries. +Seward Blair was already present. As I met him, I did not like the look +in his eye; it was too stary. Dr. Vaughn was there, too, talking in a +low tone to Madame Rapport. He shot a quick look at us. His were not +eyes but gimlets that tried to bore into your very soul. Chatting with +Seward Blair was a Mrs. Langhorne, a very beautiful woman. To-night she +seemed to be unnaturally excited. + +All seemed to be on most intimate terms, and, as we waited a few +minutes, I could not help recalling a sentence from Huysmans: “The +worship of the Devil is no more insane than the worship of God. The +worshipers of Satan are mystics—mystics of an unclean sort, it is true, +but mystics none the less.” + +I did not agree with it, and did not repeat it, of course, but a moment +later I overheard Dr. Vaughn saying to Kennedy: “Hoffman brought the +Devil into modern life. Poe forgoes the aid of demons and works +patiently and precisely by the scientific method. But the result is the +same.” + +“Yes,” agreed Kennedy for the sake of appearances, “in a sense, I +suppose, we are all devil worshipers in modern society—always have +been. It is fear that rules and we fear the bad—not the good.” + +As we waited, I felt, more and more, the sense of the mysterious, the +secret, the unknown which have always exercised a powerful attraction +on the human mind. Even the aeroplane and the submarine, the X-ray and +wireless have not banished the occult. + +In it, I felt, there was fascination for the frivolous and deep appeal +to the intellectual and spiritual. The Temple of the Occult had +evidently been designed to appeal to both types. I wondered how, like +Lucifer, it had fallen. The prime requisite, I could guess already, +however, was—money. Was it in its worship of the root of all evil that +it had fallen? + +We passed soon into another room, hung entirely in red, with weird, +cabalistic signs all about, on the walls. It was uncanny, creepy. + +A huge reproduction in plaster of one of the most sardonic of Notre +Dame’s gargoyles seemed to preside over everything—a terrible figure in +such an atmosphere. + +As we entered, we were struck by the blinding glare of the light, in +contrast with the darkened room in which we had passed our brief +novitiate, if it might be called such. + +Suddenly the lights were extinguished. + +The great gargoyle shone with an infernal light of its own! + +“Phosphorescent paint,” whispered Kennedy to me. + +Still, it did not detract from the weird effect to know what caused it. + +There was a startling noise in the general hush. + +“Sata!” cried one of the devotees. + +A door opened and there appeared the veritable priest of the Devil—pale +of face, nose sharp, mouth bitter, eyes glassy. + +“That is Rapport,” Vaughn whispered to me. + +The worshipers crowded forward. + +Without a word, he raised his long, lean forefinger and began to single +them out impressively. As he did so, each spoke, as if imploring aid. + +He came to Mrs. Langhorne. + +“I have tried the charm,” she cried earnestly, “and the one whom I love +still hates me, while the one I hate loves me!” + +“Concentrate!” replied the priest, “concentrate! Think always ‘I love +him. He must love me. I want him to love me. I love him. He must love +me.’ Over and over again you must think it. Then the other side, ‘I +hate him. He must leave me. I want him to leave me. I hate him—hate +him.’” + +Around the circle he went. + +At last his lean finger was outstretched at Veda. It seemed as if some +imp of the perverse were compelling her unwilling tongue to unlock its +secrets. + +“Sometimes,” she cried in a low, tremulous voice, “something seems to +seize me, as if by the hand and urge me onward. I cannot flee from it.” + +“Defend yourself!” answered the priest subtly. “When you know that some +one is trying to kill you mentally, defend yourself! Work against it by +every means in your power. Discourage! Intimidate! Destroy!” + +I marveled at these cryptic utterances. They shadowed a modern Black +Art, of which I had had no conception—a recrudescence in other language +of the age-old dualism of good and evil. It was a sort of mental +malpractice. + +“Over and over again,” he went on speaking to her, “the same thought is +to be repeated against an enemy. ‘You know you are going to die! You +know you are going to die!’ Do it an hour, two hours, at a time. Others +can help you, all thinking in unison the same thought.” + +What was this, I asked myself breathlessly—a new transcendental +toxicology? + +Slowly, a strange mephitic vapor seemed to exhale into the room—or was +it my heightened imagination? + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII +THE PSYCHIC CURSE + + +There came a sudden noise—nameless—striking terror, low, rattling. I +stood rooted to the spot. What was it that held me? Was it an atavistic +joy in the horrible or was it merely a blasphemous curiosity? + +I scarcely dared to look. + +At last I raised my eyes. There was a live snake, upraised, his fangs +striking out viciously—a rattler! + +I would have drawn back and fled, but Craig caught my arm. + +“Caged,” he whispered monosyllabically. + +I shuddered. This, at least, was no drawing-room diablerie. + +“It is Ophis,” intoned Rapport, “the Serpent—the one active form in +Nature that cannot be ungraceful!” + +The appearance of the basilisk seemed to heighten the tension. + +At last it broke loose and then followed the most terrible blasphemies. +The disciples, now all frenzied, surrounded closer the priest, the +gargoyle and the serpent. + +They worshiped with howls and obscenities. Mad laughter mingled with +pale fear and wild scorn in turns were written on the hectic faces +about me. + +They had risen—it became a dance, a reel. + +The votaries seemed to spin about on their axes, as it were, uttering a +low, moaning chant as they whirled. It was a mania, the spirit of +demonism. Something unseen seemed to urge them on. + +Disgusted and stifled at the surcharged atmosphere, I would have tried +to leave, but I seemed frozen to the spot. I could think of nothing +except Poe’s Masque of the Red Death. + +Above all the rest whirled Seward Blair himself. The laugh of the +fiend, for the moment, was in his mouth. An instant he stood—the oracle +of the Demon—devil-possessed. Around whirled the frantic devotees, +howling. + +Shrilly he cried, “The Devil is in me!” + +Forward staggered the devil dancer—tall, haggard, with deep sunken eyes +and matted hair, face now smeared with dirt and blood-red with the +reflection of the strange, unearthly phosphorescence. + +He reeled slowly through the crowd, crooning a quatrain, in a low, +monotonous voice, his eyelids drooping and his head forward on his +breast: + +If the Red Slayer think he slays, + Or the slain think he is slain, +They know not well the subtle ways + I keep and pass and turn again! + + +Entranced the whirling crowd paused and watched. One of their number +had received the “power.” + +He was swaying slowly to and fro. + +“Look!” whispered Kennedy. + +His fingers twitched, his head wagged uncannily. Perspiration seemed to +ooze from every pore. His breast heaved. + +He gave a sudden yell—ear-piercing. Then followed a screech of hellish +laughter. + +The dance had ended, the dancers spellbound at the sight. + +He was whirling slowly, eyes protruding now, mouth foaming, chest +rising and falling like a bellows, muscles quivering. + +Cries, vows, imprecations, prayers, all blended in an infernal hubbub. + +With a burst of ghastly, guttural laughter, he shrieked, “I _am_ the +Devil!” + +His arms waved—cutting, sawing, hacking the air. + +The votaries, trembling, scarcely moved, breathed, as he danced. + +Suddenly he gave a great leap into the air—then fell, motionless. They +crowded around him. The fiendish look was gone—the demoniac laughter +stilled. + +It was over. + +The tension of the orgy had been too much for us. We parted, with +scarcely a word, and yet I could feel that among the rest there was a +sort of unholy companionship. + +Silently, Kennedy and I drove away in the darkened cab, this time with +Seward and Veda Blair and Mrs. Langhorne. + +For several minutes not a word was said. I was, however, much occupied +in watching the two women. It was not because of anything they said or +did. That was not necessary. But I felt that there was a feud, +something that set them against each other. + +“How would Rapport use the death thought, I wonder?” asked Craig +speculatively, breaking the silence. + +Blair answered quickly. “Suppose some one tried to break away, to +renounce the Lodge, expose its secrets. They would treat him so as to +make him harmless—perhaps insane, confused, afraid to talk, paralyzed, +or even to commit suicide or be killed in an accident. They would put +the death thought on him!” + +Even in the prosaic jolting of the cab, away from the terrible +mysteries of the Red Lodge, one could feel the spell. + +The cab stopped. Seward was on his feet in a moment and handing Mrs. +Langhorne out at her home. For a moment they paused on the steps for an +exchange of words. + +In that moment I caught flitting over the face of Veda a look of +hatred, more intense, more real, more awful than any that had been +induced under the mysteries of the rites at the Lodge. + +It was gone in an instant, and as Seward rejoined us I felt that, with +Mrs. Langhorne gone, there was less restraint. I wondered whether it +was she who had inspired the fear in Veda. + +Although it was more comfortable, the rest of our journey was made in +silence and the Blairs dropped us at our apartment with many +expressions of cordiality as we left them to proceed to their own. + +“Of one thing I’m sure,” I remarked, entering the room where only a few +short hours before Mrs. Blair had related her strange tale. “Whatever +the cause of it, the devil dancers don’t sham.” + +Kennedy did not reply. He was apparently wrapped up in the +consideration of the remarkable events of the evening. + +As for myself, it was a state of affairs which, the day before, I +should have pronounced utterly beyond the wildest bounds of the +imagination of the most colorful writer. Yet here it was; I had seen +it. + +I glanced up to find Kennedy standing by the light examining something +he had apparently picked up at the Red Lodge. I bent over to look at +it, too. It was a little glass tube. + +“An ampoule, I believe the technical name of such a container is,” he +remarked, holding it closer to the light. + +In it were the remains of a dried yellow substance, broken up minutely, +resembling crystals. + +“Who dropped it?” I asked. + +“Vaughn, I think,” he replied. “At least, I saw him near Blair, +stooping over him, at the end, and I imagine this is what I saw +gleaming for an instant in the light.” + +Kennedy said nothing more, and for my part I was thoroughly at sea and +could make nothing out of it all. + +“What object can such a man as Dr. Vaughn possibly have in frequenting +such a place?” I asked at length, adding, “And there’s that Mrs. +Langhorne—she was interesting, too.” + +Kennedy made no direct reply. “I shall have them shadowed to-morrow,” +he said briefly, “while I am at work in the laboratory over this +ampoule.” + +As usual, also, Craig had begun on his scientific studies long before I +was able to shake myself loose from the nightmares that haunted me +after our weird experience of the evening. + +He had already given the order to an agency for the shadowing, and his +next move was to start me out, also, looking into the history of those +concerned in the case. As far as I was able to determine, Dr. Vaughn +had an excellent reputation, and I could find no reason whatever for +his connection with anything of the nature of the Red Lodge. The +Rapports seemed to be nearly unknown in New York, although it was +reported that they had come from Paris lately. Mrs. Langhorne was a +divorcée from one of the western states, but little was known about +her, except that she always seemed to be well supplied with money. It +seemed to be well known in the circle in which Seward Blair moved that +he was friendly with her, and I had about reached the conclusion that +she was unscrupulously making use of his friendship, perhaps was not +above such a thing as blackmail. + +Thus the day passed, and we heard no word from Veda Blair, although +that was explained by the shadows, whose trails crossed in a most +unexpected manner. Their reports showed that there was a meeting at the +Red Lodge during the late afternoon, at which all had been present +except Dr. Vaughn. We learned also from them the exact location of the +Lodge, in an old house just across the line in Westchester. + +It was evidently a long and troublesome analysis that Craig was engaged +in at the laboratory, for it was some hours after dinner that night +when he came into the apartment, and even then he said nothing, but +buried himself in some of the technical works with which his library +was stocked. He said little, but I gathered that he was in great doubt +about something, perhaps, as much as anything, about how to proceed +with so peculiar a case. + +It was growing late, and Kennedy was still steeped in his books, when +the door of the apartment, which we happened to have left unlocked, was +suddenly thrown open and Seward Blair burst in on us, wildly excited. + +“Veda is gone!” he cried, before either of us could ask him what was +the matter. + +“Gone?” repeated Kennedy. “How—where?” + +“I don’t know,” Blair blurted out breathlessly. “We had been out +together this afternoon, and I returned with her. Then I went out to +the club after dinner for a while, and when I got back I missed her—not +quarter of an hour ago. I burst into her room—and there I found this +note. Read it. I don’t know what to do. No one seems to know what has +become of her. I’ve called up all over and then thought perhaps you +might help me, might know some friend of hers that I don’t know, with +whom she might have gone out.” + +Blair was plainly eager for us to help him. Kennedy took the paper from +him. On it, in a trembling hand, were scrawled some words, evidently +addressed to Blair himself: + +“You would forgive me and pity me if you knew what I have been through. + +“When I refused to yield my will to the will of the Lodge I suppose I +aroused the enmity of the Lodge. + +“To-night as I lay in bed, alone, I felt that my hour had come, that +mental forces that were almost irresistible were being directed against +me. + +“I realized that I must fight not only for my sanity but for my life. + +“For hours I have fought that fight. + +“But during those hours, some one, I won’t say who, seemed to have +developed such psychic faculties of penetration that they were able to +make their bodies pass through the walls of my room. + +“At last I am conquered. I pray that you—” + +The writing broke off abruptly, as if she had left it in wild flight. + +“What does that mean?” asked Kennedy, “the ‘will of the Lodge’?” + +Blair looked at us keenly. I fancied that there was even something +accusatory in the look. “Perhaps it was some mental reservation on her +part,” he suggested. “You do not know yourself of any reason why she +should fear anything, do you?” he asked pointedly. + +Kennedy did not betray even by the motion of an eyelash that we knew +more than we should ostensibly. + +There was a tap at the door. I sprang to open it, thinking perhaps, +after all, it was Veda herself. + +Instead, a man, a stranger, stood there. + +“Is this Professor Kennedy?” he asked, touching his hat. + +Craig nodded. + +“I am from the psychopathic ward of the City Hospital—an orderly, sir,” +the man introduced. + +“Yes,” encouraged Craig, “what can I do for you?” + +“A Mrs. Blair has just been brought in, sir, and we can’t find her +husband. She’s calling for you now.” + +Kennedy stared from the orderly to Seward Blair, startled, speechless. + +“What has happened?” asked Blair anxiously. “I am Mr. Blair.” + +The orderly shook his head. He had delivered his message. That was all +he knew. + +“What do you suppose it is?” I asked, as we sped across town in a +taxicab. “Is it the curse that she dreaded?” + +Kennedy said nothing and Blair appeared to hear nothing. His face was +drawn in tense lines. + +The psychopathic ward is at once one of the most interesting and one of +the most depressing departments of a large city hospital, harboring, as +it does, all from the more or less harmless insane to violent +alcoholics and wrecked drug fiends. + +Mrs. Blair, we learned, had been found hatless, without money, dazed, +having fallen, after an apparently aimless wandering in the streets. + +For the moment she lay exhausted on the white bed of the ward, eyes +glazed, pupils contracted, pulse now quick, now almost evanescent, face +drawn, breathing difficult, moaning now and then in physical and mental +agony. + +Until she spoke it was impossible to tell what had happened, but the +ambulance surgeon had found a little red mark on her white forearm and +had pointed it out, evidently with the idea that she was suffering from +a drug. + +At the mere sight of the mark, Blair stared as though hypnotized. +Leaning over to Kennedy, so that the others could not hear, he +whispered, “It is the mark of the serpent!” + +Our arrival had been announced to the hospital physician, who entered +and stood for a moment looking at the patient. + +“I think it is a drug—a poison,” he said meditatively. + +“You haven’t found out yet what it is, then?” asked Craig. + +The physician shook his head doubtfully. “Whatever it is,” he said +slowly, “it is closely allied to the cyanide groups in its rapacious +activity. I haven’t the slightest idea of its true nature, but it seems +to have a powerful affinity for important nerve centers of respiration +and muscular coordination, as well as for disorganizing the blood. I +should say that it produces death by respiratory paralysis and +convulsions. To my mind it is an exact, though perhaps less active, +counterpart of hydrocyanic acid.” + +Kennedy had been listening intently at the start, but before the +physician had finished he had bent over and made a ligature quickly +with his handkerchief. + +Then he dispatched a messenger with a note. Next he cut about the +minute wound on her arm until the blood flowed, cupping it to increase +the flow. Now and then he had them administer a little stimulant. + +He had worked rapidly, while Blair watched him with a sort of +fascination. + +“Get Dr. Vaughn,” ordered Craig, as soon as he had a breathing spell +after his quick work, adding, “and Professor and Madame Rapport. +Walter, attend to that, will you? I think you will find an officer +outside. You’ll have to compel them to come, if they won’t come +otherwise,” he added, giving the address of the Lodge, as we had found +it. + +Blair shot a quick look at him, as though Craig in his knowledge were +uncanny. Apparently, the address had been a secret which he thought we +did not know. + +I managed to find an officer and dispatch him for the Rapports. A +hospital orderly, I thought, would serve to get Dr. Vaughn. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV +THE SERPENT’S TOOTH + + +I had scarcely returned to the ward when, suddenly, an unnatural +strength seemed to be infused into Veda. + +She had risen in bed. + +“It shall not catch me!” she cried in a new paroxysm of nameless +terror. “No—no—it is pursuing me. I am never out of its grasp. I have +been thought six feet underground—I know it. There it is again—still +driving me—still driving me! + +“Will it never stop? Will no one stop it? Save me! It—is the death +thought!” + +She had risen convulsively and had drawn back in abject, cowering +terror. What was it she saw? Evidently it was very real and very awful. +It pursued her relentlessly. + +As she lay there, rolling her eyes about, she caught sight of us and +recognized us for the first time, although she had been calling for us. + +“They had the thought on you, too, Professor Kennedy,” she almost +screamed. “Hour after hour, Rapport and the rest repeated over and over +again, ‘Why does not some one kill him? Why does he not die?’ They knew +you—even when I brought you to the Red Lodge. They thought you were a +spy.” + +I turned to Kennedy. He had advanced and was leaning over to catch +every word. Blair was standing behind me and she had not seen her +husband yet. A quick glance showed me that he was trembling from head +to foot like a leaf, as though he, too, were pursued by the nameless +terror. + +“What did they do?” Kennedy asked in a low tone. + +Fearfully, gripping the bars of the iron bed, as though they were some +tangible support for her mind, she answered: “They would get together. +‘Now, all of you,’ they said, ‘unite yourselves in thought against our +enemy, against Kennedy, that he must leave off persecuting us. He is +ripe for destruction!’” + +Kennedy glanced sidewise at me, with a significant look. + +“God grant,” she implored, “that none haunt me for what I have done in +my ignorance!” + +Just then the door opened and my messenger entered, accompanied by Dr. +Vaughn. + +I had turned to catch the expression on Blair’s face just in time. It +was a look of abject appeal. + +Before Dr. Vaughn could ask a question, or fairly take in the +situation, Kennedy had faced him. + +“What was the purpose of all that elaborate mummery out at the Red +Lodge?” asked Kennedy pointblank. + +I think I looked at Craig in no less amazement than Vaughn. In spite of +the dramatic scenes through which we had passed, the spell of the +occult had not fallen on him for an instant. + +“Mummery?” repeated Dr. Vaughn, bending his penetrating eyes on +Kennedy, as if he would force him to betray himself first. + +“Yes,” reiterated Craig. “You know as well as I do that it has been +said that it is a well-established fact that the world wants to be +deceived and is willing to pay for the privilege.” + +Dr. Vaughn still gazed from one to the other of us defiantly. + +“You know what I mean,” persisted Kennedy, “the mumbo-jumbo—just as the +Haitian obi man sticks pins in a doll or melts a wax figure of his +enemy. That is supposed to be an outward sign. But back of this +terrible power that people believe moves in darkness and mystery is +something tangible—something real.” + +Dr. Vaughn looked up sharply at him, I think mistaking Kennedy’s +meaning. If he did, all doubt that Kennedy attributed anything to the +supernatural was removed as he went on: “At first I had no explanation +of the curious events I have just witnessed, and the more I thought +about them, the more obscure did they seem. + +“I have tried to reason the thing out,” he continued thoughtfully. “Did +auto-suggestion, self-hypnotism explain what I have seen? Has Veda +Blair been driven almost to death by her own fears only?” + +No one interrupted and he answered his own question. “Somehow the idea +that it was purely fear that had driven her on did not satisfy me. As I +said, I wanted something more tangible. I could not help thinking that +it was not merely subjective. There was something objective, some force +at work, something more than psychic in the result achieved by this +criminal mental marauder, whoever it is.” + +I was following Kennedy’s reasoning now closely. As he proceeded, the +point that he was making seemed more clear to me. + +Persons of a certain type of mind could be really mentally unbalanced +by such methods which we had heard outlined, where the mere fact of +another trying to exert power over them became known to them. They +would, as a matter of fact, unbalance themselves, thinking about and +fighting off imaginary terrors. + +Such people, I could readily see, might be quickly controlled, and in +the wake of such control would follow stifled love, wrecked homes, +ruined fortunes, suicide and even death. + +Dr. Vaughn leaned forward critically. “What did you conclude, then, was +the explanation of what you saw last night?” he asked sharply. + +Kennedy met his question squarely, without flinching. “It looks to me,” +he replied quietly, “like a sort of hystero-epilepsy. It is well known, +I believe, to demonologists—those who have studied this sort of thing. +They have recognized the contortions, the screams, the wild, +blasphemous talk, the cataleptic rigidity. They are epileptiform.” + +Vaughn said nothing, but continued to weigh Kennedy as if in a balance. +I, who knew him, knew that it would take a greater than Vaughn to find +him wanting, once Kennedy chose to speak. As for Vaughn, was he trying +to hide behind some technicality in medical ethics? + +“Dr. Vaughn,” continued Craig, as if goading him to the point of +breaking down his calm silence, “you are specialist enough to know +these things as well, better than I do. You must know that epilepsy is +one of the most peculiar diseases. + +“The victim may be in good physical condition, apparently. In fact, +some hardly know that they have it. But it is something more than +merely the fits. Always there is something wrong mentally. It is not +the motor disturbance so much as the disturbance of consciousness.” + +Kennedy was talking slowly, deliberately, so that none could drop a +link in the reasoning. + +“Perhaps one in ten epileptics has insane periods, more or less,” he +went on, “and there is no more dangerous form of insanity. +Self-consciousness is lost, and in this state of automatism the worst +of crimes have been committed without the subsequent knowledge of the +patient. In that state they are no more responsible than are the actors +in one’s dreams.” + +The hospital physician entered, accompanied by Craig’s messenger, +breathless. Craig almost seized the package from his hands and broke +the seal. + +“Ah—this is what I wanted,” he exclaimed, with an air of relief, +forgetting for the time the exposition of the case that he was engaged +in. “Here I have some anti-crotalus venine, of Drs. Flexner and +Noguchi. Fortunately, in the city it is within easy reach.” + +Quickly, with the aid of the physician he injected it into Veda’s arm. + +“Of all substances in nature,” he remarked, still at work over the +unfortunate woman, “none is so little known as the venom of serpents.” + +It was a startling idea which the sentence had raised in my mind. All +at once I recalled the first remark of Seward Blair, in which he had +repeated the password that had admitted us into the Red Lodge—“the +Serpent’s Tooth.” Could it have been that she had really been bitten at +some of the orgies by the serpent which they worshiped hideously +hissing in its cage? I was sure that, at least until they were +compelled, none would say anything about it. Was that the +interpretation of the almost hypnotized look on Blair’s face? + +“We know next to nothing of the composition of the protein bodies in +the venoms which have such terrific, quick physiological effects,” +Kennedy was saying. “They have been studied, it is true, but we cannot +really say that they are understood—or even that there are any adequate +tests by which they can be recognized. The fact is, that snake venoms +are about the safest of poisons for the criminal.” + +Kennedy had scarcely propounded this startling idea when a car was +heard outside. The Rapports had arrived, with the officer I had sent +after them, protesting and threatening. + +They quieted down a bit as they entered, and after a quick glance +around saw who was present. + +Professor Rapport gave one glance at the victim lying exhausted on the +bed, then drew back, melodramatically, and cried, “The Serpent—the mark +of the serpent!” + +For a moment Kennedy gazed full in the eyes of them all. + +“_Was_ it a snake bite?” he asked slowly, then, turning to Mrs. Blair, +after a quick glance, he went on rapidly, “The first thing to ascertain +is whether the mark consists of two isolated punctures, from the +poison-conducting teeth or fangs of the snake, which are constructed +like a hypodermic needle.” + +The hospital physician had bent over her at the words, and before +Kennedy could go on interrupted: “This was not a snake bite; it was +more likely from an all-glass hypodermic syringe with a +platinum-iridium needle.” + +Professor Rapport, priest of the Devil, advanced a step menacingly +toward Kennedy. “Remember,” he said in a low, angry tone, “remember—you +are pledged to keep the secrets of the Red Lodge!” + +Craig brushed aside the sophistry with a sentence. “I do not recognize +any secrets that I have to keep about the meeting this afternoon to +which you summoned the Blairs and Mrs. Langhorne, according to reports +from the shadows I had placed on Mrs. Langhorne and Dr. Vaughn.” + +If there is such a thing as the evil eye, Rapport’s must have been a +pair of them, as he realized that Kennedy had resorted to the simple +devices of shadowing the devotees. + +A cry, almost a shriek, startled us. Kennedy’s encounter with Rapport +had had an effect which none of us had considered. The step or two in +advance which the prophet had taken had brought him into the line of +vision of the still half-stupefied Veda lying back of Kennedy on the +hospital cot. + +The mere sight of him, the sound of his voice and the mention of the +Red Lodge had been sufficient to penetrate that stupor. She was sitting +bolt upright, a ghastly, trembling specter. Slowly a smile seemed to +creep over the cruel face of the mystic. Was it not a recognition of +his hypnotic power? + +Kennedy turned and laid a gentle hand on the quaking convulsed figure +of the woman. One could feel the electric tension in the air, the +battle of two powers for good or evil. Which would win—the old +fascination of the occult or the new power of science? + +It was a dramatic moment. Yet not so dramatic as the outcome. To my +surprise, neither won. + +Suddenly she caught sight of her husband. Her face changed. All the +prehistoric jealousy of which woman is capable seemed to blaze forth. + +“I will defend myself!” she cried. “I will fight back! She shall not +win—she shall not have you—no—she shall not—never!” + +I recalled the strained feeling between the two women that I had +noticed in the cab. Was it Mrs. Langhorne who had been the disturbing +influence, whose power she feared, over herself and over her husband? + +Rapport had fallen back a step, but not from the mind of Kennedy. + +“Here,” challenged Craig, facing the group and drawing from his pocket +the glass ampoule, “I picked this up at the Red Lodge last night.” + +He held it out in his hand before the Rapports so that they could not +help but see it. Were they merely good actors? They betrayed nothing, +at least by face or action. + +“It is crotalin,” he announced, “the venom of the rattlesnake—crotalus +horridus. It has been noticed that persons suffering from certain +diseases of which epilepsy is one, after having been bitten by a +rattlesnake, if they recover from the snake bite, are cured of the +disease.” + +Kennedy was forging straight ahead now in his exposure. “Crotalin,” he +continued, “is one of the new drugs used in the treatment of epilepsy. +But it is a powerful two-edged instrument. Some one who knew the drug, +who perhaps had used it, has tried an artificial bite of a rattler on +Veda Blair, not for epilepsy, but for another, diabolical purpose, +thinking to cover up the crime, either as the result of the so-called +death thought of the Lodge or as the bite of the real rattler at the +Lodge.” + +Kennedy had at last got under Dr. Vaughn’s guard. All his reticence was +gone. + +“I joined the cult,” he confessed. “I did it in order to observe and +treat one of my patients for epilepsy. I justified myself. I said, ‘I +will be the exposer, not the accomplice, of this modern Satanism.’ I +joined it and—” + +“There is no use trying to shield anyone, Vaughn,” rapped out Kennedy, +scarcely taking time to listen. “An epileptic of the most dangerous +criminal type has arranged this whole elaborate setting as a plot to +get rid of the wife who brought him his fortune and now stands in the +way of his unholy love of Mrs. Langhorne. He used you to get the poison +with which you treated him. He used the Rapports with money to play on +her mysticism by their so-called death thought, while he watched his +opportunity to inject the fatal crotalin.” + +Craig faced the criminal, whose eyes now showed more plainly than words +his deranged mental condition, and in a low tone added, “The Devil _is_ +in you, Seward Blair!” + + + + +CHAPTER XXV +THE “HAPPY DUST” + + +Veda Blair’s rescue from the strange use that was made of the venom +came at a time when the city was aroused as it never had been before +over the nation-wide agitation against drugs. + +Already, it will be recalled, Kennedy and I had had some recent +experience with dope fiends of various kinds, but this case I set down +because it drew us more intimately into the crusade. + +“I’ve called on you, Professor Kennedy, to see if I can’t interest you +in the campaign I am planning against drugs.” + +Mrs. Claydon Sutphen, social leader and suffragist, had scarcely more +than introduced herself when she launched earnestly into the reason for +her visit to us. + +“You don’t realize it, perhaps,” she continued rapidly, “but very often +a little silver bottle of tablets is as much a necessary to some women +of the smart set as cosmetics.” + +“I’ve heard of such cases,” nodded Craig encouragingly. + +“Well, you see I became interested in the subject,” she added, “when I +saw some of my own friends going down. That’s how I came to plan the +campaign in the first place.” + +She paused, evidently nervous. “I’ve been threatened, too,” she went +on, “but I’m not going to give up the fight. People think that drugs +are a curse only to the underworld, but they have no idea what inroads +the habit has made in the upper world, too. Oh, it is awful!” she +exclaimed. + +Suddenly, she leaned over and whispered, “Why, there’s my own sister, +Mrs. Garrett. She began taking drugs after an operation, and now they +have a terrible hold on her. I needn’t try to conceal anything. It’s +all been published in the papers—everybody knows it. Think of +it—divorced, disgraced, all through these cursed drugs! Dr. Coleman, +our family physician, has done everything known to break up the habit, +but he hasn’t succeeded.” + +Dr. Coleman, I knew, was a famous society physician. If he had failed, +I wondered why she thought a detective might succeed. But it was +evidently another purpose she had in mind in introducing the subject. + +“So you can understand what it all means to me, personally,” she +resumed, with a sigh. “I’ve studied the thing—I’ve been forced to study +it. Why, now the exploiters are even making drug fiends of +mere—children!” + +Mrs. Sutphen spread out a crumpled sheet of note paper before us on +which was written something in a trembling scrawl. “For instance, +here’s a letter I received only yesterday.” + +Kennedy glanced over it carefully. It was signed “A Friend,” and read: + +“I have heard of your drug war in the newspapers and wish to help you, +only I don’t dare to do so openly. But I can assure you that if you +will investigate what I am about to tell you, you will soon be on the +trail of those higher up in this terrible drug business. There is a +little center of the traffic on West 66th Street, just off Broadway. I +cannot tell you more, but if you can investigate it, you will be doing +more good than you can possibly realize now. There is one girl there, +whom they call ‘Snowbird.’ If you could only get hold of her quietly +and place her in a sanitarium you might save her yet.” + +Craig was more than ordinarily interested. “And the children—what did +you mean by that?” + +“Why, it’s literally true,” asserted Mrs. Sutphen in a horrified tone. +“Some of the victims are actually school children. Up there in 66th +Street we have found a man named Armstrong, who seems to be very +friendly with this young girl whom they call ‘Snowbird.’ Her real name, +by the way, is Sawtelle, I believe. She can’t be over eighteen, a mere +child, yet she’s a slave to the stuff.” + +“Oh, then you have actually already acted on the hint in the letter?” +asked Craig. + +“Yes,” she replied, “I’ve had one of the agents of our Anti-Drug +Society, a social worker, investigating the neighborhood.” + +Kennedy nodded for her to go on. + +“I’ve even investigated myself a little, and now I want to employ some +one to break the thing up. My husband had heard of you and so here I +am. Can you help me?” + +There was a note of appeal in her voice that was irresistible to a man +who had the heart of Kennedy. + +“Tell me just what you have discovered so far,” he asked simply. + +“Well,” she replied slowly, “after my agent verified the contents of +the letter, I watched until I saw this girl—she’s a mere child, as I +said—going to a cabaret in the neighborhood. What struck me was that I +saw her go in looking like a wreck and come out a beautiful creature, +with bright eyes, flushed cheeks, almost youthful again. A most +remarkable girl she is, too,” mused Mrs. Sutphen, “who always wears a +white gown, white hat, white shoes and white stockings. It must be a +mania with her.” + +Mrs. Sutphen seemed to have exhausted her small store of information, +and as she rose to go Kennedy rose also. “I shall be glad to look into +the case, Mrs. Sutphen,” he promised. “I’m sure there is something that +can be done—there must be.” + +“Thank you, ever so much,” she murmured, as she paused at the door, +something still on her mind. “And perhaps, too,” she added, “you may +run across my sister, Mrs. Garrett.” + +“Indeed,” he assured her, “if there is anything I can possibly do that +will assist you personally, I shall be only too happy to do it.” + +“Thank you again, ever so much,” she repeated with just a little choke +in her voice. + +For several moments Kennedy sat contemplating the anonymous letter +which she had left with him, studying both its contents and the +handwriting. + +“We must go over the ground up there again,” he remarked finally. +“Perhaps we can do better than Mrs. Sutphen and her drug investigator +have done.” + +Half an hour later we had arrived and were sauntering along the street +in question, walking slowly up and down in the now fast-gathering dusk. +It was a typical cheap apartment block of variegated character, with +people sitting idly on the narrow front steps and children spilling out +into the roadway in imminent danger of their young lives from every +passing automobile. + +On the crowded sidewalk a creation in white hurtled past us. One glance +at the tense face in the flickering arc light was enough for Kennedy. +He pulled my arm and we turned and followed at a safe distance. + +She looked like a girl who could not have been more than eighteen, if +she was as old as that. She was pretty, too, but already her face was +beginning to look old and worn from the use of drugs. It was +unmistakable. + +In spite of the fact that she was hurrying, it was not difficult to +follow her in the crowd, as she picked her way in and out, and finally +turned into Broadway where the white lights were welcoming the night. + +Under the glare of a huge electric sign she stopped a moment, then +entered one of the most notorious of the cabarets. + +We entered also at a discreet distance and sat down at a table. + +“Don’t look around, Walter,” whispered Craig, as the waiter took our +order, “but to your right is Mrs. Sutphen.” + +If he had mentioned any other name in the world, I could not have been +more surprised. I waited impatiently until I could pick her out from +the corner of my eye. Sure enough, it was Mrs. Sutphen and another +woman. What they were doing there I could not imagine, for neither had +the look of habitues of such a place. + +I followed Kennedy’s eye and found that he was gazing furtively at a +flashily dressed young man who was sitting alone at the far end in a +sort of booth upholstered in leather. + +The girl in white, whom I was now sure was Miss Sawtelle, went over and +greeted him. It was too far to see just what happened, but the young +woman after sitting down rose and left almost immediately. As nearly as +I could make out, she had got something from him which she had dropped +into her handbag and was now hugging the handbag close to herself +almost as if it were gold. + +We sat for a few minutes debating just what to do, when Mrs. Sutphen +and her friend rose. As she passed out, a quick, covert glance told us +to follow. We did so and the two turned into Broadway. + +“Let me present you to Miss McCann,” introduced Mrs. Sutphen as we +caught up with them. “Miss McCann is a social worker and trained +investigator whom I’m employing.” + +We bowed, but before we could ask a question, Mrs. Sutphen cried +excitedly: “I think I have a clue, anyway. We’ve traced the source of +the drugs at least as far as that young fellow, ‘Whitecap,’ whom you +saw in there.” + +I had not recognized his face, although I had undoubtedly seen pictures +of him before. But no sooner had I heard the name than I recognized it +as that of one of the most notorious gang leaders on the West Side. + +Not only that, but Whitecap’s gang played an important part in local +politics. There was scarcely a form of crime or vice to which Whitecap +and his followers could not turn a skilled hand, whether it was +swinging an election, running a gambling club, or dispensing “dope.” + +“You see,” she explained, “even before I saw you, my suspicions were +aroused and I determined to obtain some of the stuff they are using up +here, if possible. I realized it would be useless for me to try to get +it myself, so I got Miss McCann from the Neighborhood House to try it. +She got it and has turned the bottle over to me.” + +“May I see it?” asked Craig eagerly. + +Mrs. Sutphen reached hastily into her handbag, drew forth a small brown +glass bottle and handed it to him. Craig retreated into one of the less +dark side streets. There he pulled out the paraffinned cork from the +bottle, picked out a piece of cotton stuffed in the neck of the bottle +and poured out some flat tablets that showed a glistening white in the +palm of his hand. For an instant he regarded them. + +“I may keep these?” he asked. + +“Certainly,” replied Mrs. Sutphen. “That’s what I had Miss McCann get +them for.” + +Kennedy dropped the bottle into his pocket. + +“So that was the gang leader, ‘Whitecap,’” he remarked as we turned +again to Broadway. + +“Yes,” replied Mrs. Sutphen. “At certain hours, I believe he can be +found at that cabaret selling this stuff, whatever it is, to anyone who +comes properly introduced. The thing seems to be so open and notorious +that it amounts to a scandal.” + +We parted a moment later, Mrs. Sutphen and Miss McCann to go to the +settlement house, Craig and I to continue our investigations. + +“First of all, Walter,” he said as we swung aboard an uptown car, “I +want to stop at the laboratory.” + +In his den, which had been the scene of so many triumphs, Kennedy began +a hasty examination of the tablets, powdering one and testing it with +one chemical after another. + +“What are they?” I asked at length when he seemed to have found the +right reaction which gave him the clue. + +“Happy dust,” he answered briefly. + +“Happy dust?” I repeated, looking at him a moment in doubt as to +whether he was joking or serious. “What is that?” + +“The Tenderloin name for heroin—a comparatively new derivative of +morphine. It is really morphine treated with acetic acid which renders +it more powerful than morphine alone.” + +“How do they take them? What’s the effect?” I asked. + +“The person who uses heroin usually powders the tablets and snuffs the +powder up the nose,” he answered. “In a short time, perhaps only two or +three weeks, one can become a confirmed victim of ‘happy dust.’ And +while one is under its influence he is morally, physically and mentally +irresponsible.” + +Kennedy was putting away the paraphernalia he had used, meanwhile +talking about the drug. “One of the worst aspects of it, too,” he +continued, “is the desire of the user to share his experience with some +one else. This passing on of the habit, which seems to be one of the +strongest desires of the drug fiend, makes him even more dangerous to +society than he would otherwise be. It makes it harder for anyone once +addicted to a drug to shake it off, for his friends will give him no +chance. The only thing to do is to get the victim out of his +environment and into an entirely new scene.” + +The laboratory table cleared again, Kennedy had dropped into a deep +study. + +“Now, why was Mrs. Sutphen there?” he asked aloud. “I can’t think it +was solely through her interest for that girl they call Snowbird. She +was interested in her, but she made no attempt to interfere or to +follow her. No, there must have been another reason.” + +“You don’t think she’s a dope fiend herself, do you?” I asked +hurriedly. + +Kennedy smiled. “Hardly, Walter. If she has any obsession on the +subject, it is more likely to lead her to actual fanaticism against all +stimulants and narcotics and everything connected with them. No, you +might possibly persuade me that two and two equal five—but not +seventeen. It’s not very late. I think we might make another visit to +that cabaret and see whether the same thing is going on yet.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI +THE BINET TEST + + +We rode downtown again and again sauntered in, this time with the +theater crowd. Our first visit had been so quiet and unostentatious +that the second attracted no attention or comment from the waiters, or +anyone else. + +As we sat down we glanced over, and there in his corner still was +Whitecap. Apparently his supply of the dope was inexhaustible, for he +was still dispensing it. As we watched the tenderloin habitues come and +go, I came soon to recognize the signs by the mere look on the face—the +pasty skin, the vacant eye, the nervous quiver of the muscles as though +every organ and every nerve were crying out for more of the favorite +nepenthe. Time and again I noticed the victims as they sat at the +tables, growing more and more haggard and worn, until they could stand +it no longer. Then they would retire, sometimes after a visit across +the floor to Whitecap, more often directly, for they had stocked +themselves up with the drug evidently after the first visit to him. But +always they would come back, changed in appearance, with what seemed to +be a new lease of life, but nevertheless still as recognizable as drug +victims. + +It was not long, as we waited, before another woman, older than Miss +Sawtelle, but dressed in an extreme fashion, hurried into the cabaret +and with scarcely a look to right or left went directly to Whitecap’s +corner. I noticed that she, too, had the look. + +There was a surreptitious passing of a bottle in exchange for a +treasury note, and she dropped into the seat beside him. + +Before he could interfere, she had opened the bottle, crushed a tablet +or two in a napkin, and was holding it to her face as though breathing +the most exquisite perfume. With one quick inspiration of her breath +after another, she was snuffing the powder up her nose. + +Whitecap with an angry gesture pulled the napkin from her face, and one +could fancy his snarl under his breath, “Say—do you want to get me in +wrong here?” + +But it was too late. Some at least of the happy dust had taken effect, +at least enough to relieve the terrible pangs she must have been +suffering. + +As she rose and retired, with a hasty apology to Whitecap for her +indiscretion, Kennedy turned to me and exclaimed, “Think of it. The +deadliest of all habits is the simplest. No hypodermic; no pipe; no +paraphernalia of any kind. It’s terrible.” + +She returned to sit down and enjoy herself, careful not to obtrude +herself on Whitecap lest he might become angry at the mere sight of her +and treasure his anger up against the next time when she would need the +drug. + +Already there was the most marvelous change in her. She seemed +captivated by the music, the dancing, the life which a few moments +before she had totally disregarded. + +She was seated alone, not far from us, and as she glanced about Kennedy +caught her eye. She allowed her gaze to rest on us for a moment, the +signal for a mild flirtation which ended in our exchange of tables and +we found ourselves opposite the drug fiend, who was following up the +taking of the dope by a thin-stemmed glass of a liqueur. + +I do not recall the conversation, but it was one of those +inconsequential talks that Bohemians consider so brilliant and +everybody else so vapid. As we skimmed from one subject to another, +treating the big facts of life as if they were mere incidents and the +little as if they overshadowed all else, I could see that Craig, who +had a faculty of probing into the very soul of anyone, when he chose, +was gradually leading around to a subject which I knew he wanted, above +all others, to discuss. + +It was not long before, as the most natural remark in the world +following something he had made her say, just as a clever +prestidigitator forces a card, he asked, “What was it I saw you +snuffing over in the booth—happy dust?” + +She did not even take the trouble to deny it, but nodded a brazen +“Yes.” “How did you come to use it first?” he asked, careful not to +give offense in either tone or manner. + +“The usual way, I suppose,” she replied with a laugh that sounded harsh +and grating. “I was ill and I found out what it was the doctor was +giving me.” + +“And then?” + +“Oh, I thought I would use it only as long as it served my purpose and, +when that was over, give it up.” + +“But—?” prompted Craig hypnotically. + +“Instead, I was soon using six, eight, ten tablets of heroin a day. I +found that I needed that amount in order to live. Then it went up by +leaps to twenty, thirty, forty.” + +“Suppose you couldn’t get it, what then?” + +“Couldn’t get it?” she repeated with an unspeakable horror. “Once I +thought I’d try to stop. But my heart skipped beats; then it seemed to +pound away, as if trying to break through my ribs. I don’t think heroin +is like other drugs. When one has her ‘coke’—that’s cocaine—taken away, +she feels like a rag. Fill her up and she can do anything again. But, +heroin—I think one might murder to get it!” + +The expression on the woman’s face was almost tragic. I verily believe +that she meant it. + +“Why,” she cried, “if anyone had told me a year ago that the time would +ever come when I would value some tiny white tablets above anything +else in the world, yes, and even above my immortal soul, I would have +thought him a lunatic.” + +It was getting late, and as the woman showed no disposition to leave, +Kennedy and I excused ourselves. + +Outside Craig looked at me keenly. “Can you guess who that was?” + +“Although she didn’t tell us her name,” I replied, “I am morally +certain that it was Mrs. Garrett.” + +“Precisely,” he answered, “and what a shame, too, for she must +evidently once have been a woman of great education and refinement.” + +He shook his head sadly. “Walter, there isn’t likely to be anything +that we can do for some hours now. I have a little experiment I’d like +to make. Suppose you publish for me a story in the _Star_ about the +campaign against drugs. Tell about what we have seen to-night, mention +the cabaret by indirection and Whitecap directly. Then we can sit back +and see what happens. We’ve got to throw a scare into them somehow, if +we are going to smoke out anyone higher up than Whitecap. But you’ll +have to be careful, for if they suspect us our usefulness in the case +will be over.” + +Together, Kennedy and I worked over our story far into the night down +at the _Star_ office, and the following day waited to see whether +anything came of it. + +It was with a great deal of interest tempered by fear that we dropped +into the cabaret the following evening. Fortunately no one suspected +us. In fact, having been there the night before, we had established +ourselves, as it were, and were welcomed as old patrons and good +spenders. + +I noticed, however, that Whitecap was not there. The story had been +read by such of the dope fiends as had not fallen too far to keep +abreast of the times and these and the waiters were busy quietly +warning off a line of haggard-eyed, disappointed patrons who came +around, as usual. + +Some of them were so obviously dependent on Whitecap that I almost +regretted having written the story, for they must have been suffering +the tortures of the damned. + +It was in the midst of a reverie of this sort that a low exclamation +from Kennedy recalled my attention. There was Snowbird with a man +considerably older than herself. They had just come in and were looking +about frantically for Whitecap. But Whitecap had been too frightened by +the story in the _Star_ to sell any more of the magic happy dust openly +in the cabaret, at least. + +The pair, nerve-racked and exhausted, sat down mournfully in a seat +near us, and as they talked earnestly in low tones we had an excellent +opportunity for studying Armstrong for the first time. + +He was not a bad-looking man, or even a weak one. In back of the +dissipation of the drugs one fancied he could read the story of a +brilliant life wrecked. But there was little left to admire or respect. +As the couple talked earnestly, the one so old, the other so young in +vice, I had to keep a tight rein on myself to prevent my sympathy for +the wretched girl getting the better of common sense and kicking the +older man out of doors. + +Finally Armstrong rose to go, with a final imploring glance from the +girl. Obviously she had persuaded him to forage about to secure the +heroin, by hook or crook, now that the accustomed source of supply was +cut off so suddenly. + +It was also really our first chance to study the girl carefully under +the light, for her entrance and exit the night before had been so +hurried that we had seen comparatively little of her. Craig was +watching her narrowly. Not only were the effects of the drug plainly +evident on her face, but it was apparent that the snuffing the powdered +tablets was destroying the bones in her nose, through shrinkage of the +blood vessels, as well as undermining the nervous system and causing +the brain to totter. + +I was wondering whether Armstrong knew of any depot for the secret +distribution of the drug. I could not believe that Whitecap was either +the chief distributer or the financial head of the illegal traffic. I +wondered who indeed was the man higher up. Was he an importer of the +drug, or was he the representative of some chemical company not averse +to making an illegal dollar now and then by dragging down his fellow +man? + +Kennedy and I were trying to act as if we were enjoying the cabaret +show and not too much interested in the little drama that was being +acted before us. I think little Miss Sawtelle noticed, however, that we +were looking often her way. I was amazed, too, on studying her more +closely to find that there was something indefinably queer about her, +aside from the marked effect of the drugs she had been taking. What it +was I was at a loss to determine, but I felt sure from the expression +on Kennedy’s face that he had noticed it also. + +I was on the point of asking him if he, too, observed anything queer in +the girl, when Armstrong hurried in and handed her a small package, +then almost without a word stalked out again, evidently as much to +Snowbird’s surprise as to our own. + +She had literally seized the package, as though she were drowning and +grasping at a life buoy. Even the surprise at his hasty departure could +not prevent her, however, from literally tearing the wrapper off, and +in the sheltering shadow of the table cloth pouring forth the little +white pellets in her lap, counting them as a miser counts his gold, + +“The old thief!” she exclaimed aloud. “He’s held out twenty-five!” + +I don’t know which it was that amazed me most, the almost childish +petulance and ungovernable temper of the girl which made her cry out in +spite of her surroundings and the circumstances, or the petty rapacity +of the man who could stoop to such a low level as to rob her in this +seeming underhand manner. + +There was no time for useless repining now. The call of outraged nature +for its daily and hourly quota of poison was too imperative. She dumped +the pellets back into the bottle hastily, and disappeared. + +When she came back, it was with that expression I had come to know so +well. At least for a few hours there was a respite for her from the +terrific pangs she had been suffering. She was almost happy, smiling. +Even that false happiness, I felt, was superior to Armstrong’s moral +sense blunted by drugs. I had begun to realize how lying, stealing, +crimes of all sorts might be laid at the door of this great evil. + +In her haste to get where she could snuff the heroin she had forgotten +a light wrap lying on her chair. As she returned for it, it fell to the +floor. Instantly Kennedy was on his feet, bending over to pick it up. + +She thanked him, and the smile lingered a moment on her face. It was +enough. It gave Kennedy the chance to pursue a conversation, and in the +free and easy atmosphere of the cabaret to invite her to sit over at +our table. + +At least all her nervousness was gone and she chatted vivaciously. +Kennedy said little. He was too busy watching her. It was quite the +opposite of the case of Mrs. Garrett. Yet I was at a loss to define +what it was that I sensed. + +Still the minutes sped past and we seemed to be getting on famously. +Unlike his action in the case of the older woman where he had been +sounding the depths of her heart and mind, in this case his idea seemed +to be to allow the childish prattle to come out and perhaps explain +itself. + +However, at the end of half an hour when we seemed to be getting no +further along, Kennedy did not protest at her desire to leave us, “to +keep a date,” as she expressed it. + +“Waiter, the check, please,” ordered Kennedy leisurely. + +When he received it, he seemed to be in no great hurry to pay it, but +went over one item after another, then added up the footing again. + +“Strange how some of these waiters grow rich?” Craig remarked finally +with a gay smile. + +The idea of waiters and money quickly brought some petty reminiscences +to her mind. While she was still talking, Craig casually pulled a +pencil out of his pocket and scribbled some figures on the back of the +waiter’s check. + +From where I was sitting beside him, I could see that he had written +some figures similar to the following: + +5183 +47395 +654726 +2964375 +47293815 +924738651 +2146073859 + + +“Here’s a stunt,” he remarked, breaking into the conversation at a +convenient point. “Can you repeat these numbers after me?” + +Without waiting for her to make excuse, he said quickly “5183.” “5183,” +she repeated mechanically. + +“47395,” came in rapid succession, to which she replied, perhaps a +little slower than before, + +“47395.” + +“Now, 654726,” he said. + +“654726,” she repeated, I thought with some hesitation. + +“Again, 2964375,” he shot out. + +“269,” she hesitated, “73—” she stopped. + +It was evident that she had reached the limit. + +Kennedy smiled, paid the check and we parted at the door. + +“What was all that rigmarole?” I inquired as the white figure +disappeared down the street. + +“Part of the Binet test, seeing how many digits one can remember. An +adult ought to remember from eight to ten, in any order. But she has +the mentality of a child. That is the queer thing about her. +Chronologically she may be eighteen years or so old. Mentally she is +scarcely more than eight. Mrs. Sutphen was right. They have made a +fiend out of a mere child—a defective who never had a chance against +them.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII +THE LIE DETECTOR + + +As the horror of it all dawned on me, I hated Armstrong worse than +ever, hated Whitecap, hated the man higher up, whoever he might be, who +was enriching himself out of the defective, as well as the weakling, +and the vicious—all three typified by Snowbird, Armstrong and Whitecap. + +Having no other place to go, pending further developments of the +publicity we had given the drug war in the _Star_, Kennedy and I +decided on a walk home in the bracing night air. + +We had scarcely entered the apartment when the hall boy called to us +frantically: “Some one’s been trying to get you all over town, +Professor Kennedy. Here’s the message. I wrote it down. An attempt has +been made to poison Mrs. Sutphen. They said at the other end of the +line that you’d know.” + +We faced each other aghast. + +“My God!” exclaimed Kennedy. “Has that been the effect of our story, +Walter? Instead of smoking out anyone—we’ve almost killed some one.” + +As fast as a cab could whisk us around to Mrs. Sutphen’s we hurried. + +“I warned her that if she mixed up in any such fight as this she might +expect almost anything,” remarked Mr. Sutphen nervously, as he met us +in the reception room. “She’s all right, now, I guess, but if it hadn’t +been for the prompt work of the ambulance surgeon I sent for, Dr. +Coleman says she would have died in fifteen minutes.” + +“How did it happen?” asked Craig. + +“Why, she usually drinks a glass of vichy and milk before retiring,” +replied Mr. Sutphen. “We don’t know yet whether it was the vichy or the +milk that was poisoned, but Dr. Coleman thinks it was chloral in one or +the other, and so did the ambulance surgeon. I tell you I was scared. I +tried to get Coleman, but he was out on a case, and I happened to think +of the hospitals as probably the quickest. Dr. Coleman came in just as +the young surgeon was bringing her around. He—oh, here he is now.” + +The famous doctor was just coming downstairs. He saw us, but, I +suppose, inasmuch as we did not belong to the Sutphen and Coleman set, +ignored us. “Mrs. Sutphen will be all right now,” he said reassuringly +as he drew on his gloves. “The nurse has arrived, and I have given her +instructions what to do. And, by the way, my dear Sutphen, I should +advise you to deal firmly with her in that matter about which her name +is appearing in the papers. Women nowadays don’t seem to realize the +dangers they run in mixing in in all these reforms. I have ordered an +analysis of both the milk and vichy, but that will do little good +unless we can find out who poisoned it. And there are so many chances +for things like that, life is so complex nowadays—” + +He passed out with scarcely a nod at us. Kennedy did not attempt to +question him. He was thinking rapidly. + +“Walter, we have no time to lose,” he exclaimed, seizing a telephone +that stood on a stand near by. “This is the time for action. +Hello—Police Headquarters, First Deputy O’Connor, please.” + +As Kennedy waited I tried to figure out how it could have happened. I +wondered whether it might not have been Mrs. Garrett. Would she stop at +anything if she feared the loss of her favorite drug? But then there +were so many others and so many ways of “getting” anybody who +interfered with the drug traffic that it seemed impossible to figure it +out by pure deduction. + +“Hello, O’Connor,” I heard Kennedy say; “you read that story in the +_Star_ this morning about the drug fiends at that Broadway cabaret? +Yes? Well, Jameson and I wrote it. It’s part of the drug war that Mrs. +Sutphen has been waging. O’Connor, she’s been poisoned—oh, no—she’s all +right now. But I want you to send out and arrest Whitecap and that +fellow Armstrong immediately. I’m going to put them through a +scientific third degree up in the laboratory to-night. Thank you. No—no +matter how late it is, bring them up.” + +Dr. Coleman had gone long since, Mr. Sutphen had absolutely no interest +further than the recovery of Mrs. Sutphen just now, and Mrs. Sutphen +was resting quietly and could not be seen. Accordingly Kennedy and I +hastened up to the laboratory to wait until O’Connor could “deliver the +goods.” + +It was not long before one of O’Connor’s men came in with Whitecap. + +“While we’re waiting,” said Craig, “I wish you would just try this +little cut-out puzzle.” + +I don’t know what Whitecap thought, but I know I looked at Craig’s +invitation to “play blocks” as a joke scarcely higher in order than the +number repetition of Snowbird. Whitecap did it, however, sullenly, and +under compulsion, in, I should say about two minutes. + +“I have Armstrong here myself,” called out the voice of our old friend +O’Connor, as he burst into the room. + +“Good!” exclaimed Kennedy. “I shall be ready for him in just a second. +Have Whitecap held here in the anteroom while you bring Armstrong into +the laboratory. By the way, Walter, that was another of the Binet +tests, putting a man at solving puzzles. It involves reflective +judgment, one of the factors in executive ability. If Whitecap had been +defective, it would have taken him five minutes to do that puzzle, if +at all. So you see he is not in the class with Miss Sawtelle. The test +shows him to be shrewd. He doesn’t even touch his own dope. Now for +Armstrong.” + +I knew enough of the underworld to set Whitecap down, however, as a +“lobbygow”—an agent for some one higher up, recruiting both the gangs +and the ranks of street women. + +Before us, as O’Connor led in Armstrong, was a little machine with a +big black cylinder. By means of wires and electrodes Kennedy attached +it to Armstrong’s chest. + +“Now, Armstrong,” he began in an even tone, “I want you to tell the +truth—the whole truth. You have been getting heroin tablets from +Whitecap.” + +“Yes, sir,” replied the dope fiend defiantly. + +“To-day you had to get them elsewhere.” + +No answer. + +“Never mind,” persisted Kennedy, still calm, “I know. Why, Armstrong, +you even robbed that girl of twenty-five tablets.” + +“I did not,” shot out the answer. + +“There were twenty-five short,” accused Kennedy. + +The two faced each other. Craig repeated his remark. + +“Yes,” replied Armstrong, “I held out the tablets, but it was not for +myself, I can get all I want. I did it because I didn’t want her to get +above seventy-five a day. I have tried every way to break her of the +habit that has got me—and failed. But seventy-five—is the limit!” + +“A pretty story!” exclaimed O’Connor. + +Craig laid his hand on his arm to check him, as he examined a record +registered on the cylinder of the machine. + +“By the way, Armstrong, I want you to write me out a note that I can +use to get a hundred heroin tablets. You can write it all but the name +of the place where I can get them.” + +Armstrong was on the point of demurring, but the last sentence +reassured him. He would reveal nothing by it—yet. + +Still the man was trembling like a leaf. He wrote: + +“Give Whitecap one hundred shocks—A Victim.” + +For a moment Kennedy studied the note carefully. “Oh—er—I forgot, +Armstrong, but a few days ago an anonymous letter was sent to Mrs. +Sutphen, signed ‘A Friend.’ Do you know anything about it?” + +“A note?” the man repeated. “Mrs. Sutphen? I don’t know anything about +any note, or Mrs. Sutphen either.” + +Kennedy was still studying his record. “This,” he remarked slowly, “is +what I call my psychophysical test for falsehood. Lying, when it is +practiced by an expert, is not easily detected by the most careful +scrutiny of the liar’s appearance and manner. + +“However, successful means have been developed for the detection of +falsehood by the study of experimental psychology. Walter, I think you +will recall the test I used once, the psychophysical factor of the +character and rapidity of the mental process known as the association +of ideas?” + +I nodded acquiescence. + +“Well,” he resumed, “in criminal jurisprudence, I find an even more +simple and more subjective test which has been recently devised. +Professor Stoerring of Bonn has found out that feelings of pleasure and +pain produce well-defined changes in respiration. Similar effects are +produced by lying, according to the famous Professor Benussi of Graz. + +“These effects are unerring, unequivocal. The utterance of a false +statement increases respiration; of a true statement decreases. The +importance and scope of these discoveries are obvious.” + +Craig was figuring rapidly on a piece of paper. “This is a certain and +objective criterion,” he continued as he figured, “between truth and +falsehood. Even when a clever liar endeavors to escape detection by +breathing irregularly, it is likely to fail, for Benussi has +investigated and found that voluntary changes in respiration don’t +alter the result. You see, the quotient obtained by dividing the time +of inspiration by the time of expiration gives me the result.” + +He looked up suddenly. “Armstrong, you are telling the truth about some +things—downright lies about others. You are a drug fiend—but I will be +lenient with you, for one reason. Contrary to everything that I would +have expected, you are really trying to save that poor half-witted girl +whom you love from the terrible habit that has gripped you. That is why +you held out the quarter of the one hundred tablets. That is why you +wrote the note to Mrs. Sutphen, hoping that she might be treated in +some institution.” + +Kennedy paused as a look of incredulity passed over Armstrong’s face. + +“Another thing you said was true,” added Kennedy. “You can get all the +heroin you want. Armstrong, you will put the address of that place on +the outside of the note, or both you and Whitecap go to jail. Snowbird +will be left to her own devices—she can get all the ‘snow,’ as some of +you fiends call it, that she wants from those who might exploit her.” + +“Please, Mr. Kennedy,” pleaded Armstrong. + +“No,” interrupted Craig, before the drug fiend could finish. “That is +final. I must have the name of that place.” + +In a shaky hand Armstrong wrote again. Hastily Craig stuffed the note +into his pocket, and ten minutes later we were mounting the steps of a +big brownstone house on a fashionable side street just around the +corner from Fifth Avenue. + +As the door was opened by an obsequious colored servant, Craig handed +him the scrap of paper signed by the password, “A Victim.” + +Imitating the cough of a confirmed dope user, Craig was led into a +large waiting room. + +“You’re in pretty bad shape, sah,” commented the servant. + +Kennedy nudged me and, taking the cue, I coughed myself red in the +face. + +“Yes,” he said. “Hurry—please.” + +The servant knocked at a door, and as it was opened we caught a glimpse +of Mrs. Garrett in negligee. + +“What is it, Sam?” she asked. + +“Two gentlemen for some heroin tablets, ma’am.” + +“Tell them to go to the chemical works—not to my office, Sam,” growled +a man’s voice inside. + +With a quick motion, Kennedy had Mrs. Garrett by the wrist. + +“I knew it,” he ground out. “It was all a fake about how you got the +habit. You wanted to get it, so you could get and hold him. And neither +one of you would stop at anything, not even the murder of your sister, +to prevent the ruin of the devilish business you have built up in +manufacturing and marketing the stuff.” + +He pulled the note from the hand of the surprised negro. “I had the +right address, the place where you sell hundreds of ounces of the stuff +a week—but I preferred to come to the doctor’s office where I could +find you both.” + +Kennedy had firmly twisted her wrist until, with a little scream of +pain, she let go the door handle. Then he gently pushed her aside, and +the next instant Craig had his hand inside the collar of Dr. Coleman, +society physician, proprietor of the Coleman Chemical Works downtown, +the real leader of the drug gang that was debauching whole sections of +the metropolis. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII +THE FAMILY SKELETON + + +Surprised though we were at the unmasking of Dr. Coleman, there was +nothing to do but to follow the thing out. In such cases we usually ran +into the greatest difficulty—organized vice. This was no exception. + +Even when cases involved only a clever individual or a prominent +family, it was the same. I recall, for example, the case of a +well-known family in a New York suburb, which was particularly +difficult. It began in a rather unusual manner, too. + +“Mr. Kennedy—I am ruined—ruined.” + +It was early one morning that the telephone rang and I answered it. A +very excited German, breathless and incoherent, was evidently at the +other end of the wire. + +I handed the receiver to Craig and picked up the morning paper lying on +the table. + +“Minturn—dead?” I heard Craig exclaim. “In the paper this morning? I’ll +be down to see you directly.” + +Kennedy almost tore the paper from me. In the next to the end column +where late news usually is dropped was a brief account of the sudden +death of Owen Minturn, one of the foremost criminal lawyers of the +city, in Josephson’s Baths downtown. + +It ended: “It is believed by the coroner that Mr. Minturn was shocked +to death and evidence is being sought to show that two hundred and +forty volts of electricity had been thrown into the attorney’s body +while he was in the electric bath. Joseph Josephson, the proprietor of +the bath, who operated the switchboard, is being held, pending the +completion of the inquiry.” + +As Kennedy hastily ran his eye over the paragraphs, he became more and +more excited himself. + +“Walter,” he cried, as he finished, “I don’t believe that that was an +accident at all.” + +“Why?” I asked. + +He already had his hat on, and I knew he was going to Josephson’s +breakfastless. I followed reluctantly. + +“Because,” he answered, as we hustled along in the early morning crowd, +“it was only yesterday afternoon that I saw Minturn at his office and +he made an appointment with me for this very morning. He was a very +secretive man, but he did tell me this much, that he feared his life +was in danger and that it was in some way connected with that Pearcy +case up in Stratfield, Connecticut, where he has an estate. You have +read of the case?” + +Indeed I had. It had seemed to me to be a particularly inexplicable +affair. Apparently a whole family had been poisoned and a few days +before old Mr. Randall Pearcy, a retired manufacturer, had died after a +brief but mysterious illness. + +Pearcy had been married a year or so ago to Annette Oakleigh, a +Broadway comic opera singer, who was his second wife. By his first +marriage he had had two children, a son, Warner, and a daughter, +Isabel. + +Warner Pearcy, I had heard, had blazed a vermilion trail along the +Great White Way, but his sister was of the opposite temperament, +interested in social work, and had attracted much attention by +organizing a settlement in the slums of Stratfield for the uplift of +the workers in the Pearcy and other mills. + +Broadway, as well as Stratfield, had already woven a fantastic +background, for the mystery and hints had been broadly made that +Annette Oakleigh had been indiscreetly intimate with a young physician +in the town, a Dr. Gunther, a friend, by the way, of Minturn. “There +has been no trial yet,” went on Kennedy, “but Minturn seems to have +appeared before the coroner’s jury at Stratfield and to have asserted +the innocence of Mrs. Pearcy and that of Dr. Gunther so well that, +although the jury brought in a verdict of murder by poison by some one +unknown, there has been no mention of the name of anyone else. The +coroner simply adjourned the inquest so that a more careful analysis +might be made of the vital organs. And now comes this second tragedy in +New York.” + +“What was the poison?” I asked. “Have they found out yet?” + +“They are pretty sure, so Minturn told me, that it was lead poisoning. +The fact not generally known is,” he added in a lower tone, “that the +cases were not confined to the Pearcy house. They had even extended to +Minturn’s too, although about that he said little yesterday. The +estates up there adjoin, you know.” + +Owen Minturn, I recalled, had gained a formidable reputation by his +successful handling of cases from the lowest strata of society to the +highest. Indeed it was a byword that his appearance in court indicated +two things—the guilt of the accused and a verdict of acquittal. + +“Of course,” Craig pursued as we were jolted from station to station +downtown, “you know they say that Minturn never kept a record of a +case. But written records were as nothing compared to what that man +must have carried only in his head.” + +It was a common saying that, if Minturn should tell all he knew, he +might hang half a dozen prominent men in society. That was not strictly +true, perhaps, but it was certain that a revelation of the things +confided to him by clients which were never put down on paper would +have caused a series of explosions that would have wrecked at least +some portions of the social and financial world. He had heard much and +told little, for he had been a sort of “father confessor.” + +Had Minturn, I wondered, known the name of the real criminal? + +Josephson’s was a popular bath on Forty-second Street, where many of +the “sun-dodgers” were accustomed to recuperate during the day from +their arduous pursuit of pleasure at night and prepare for the +resumption of their toil during the coming night. It was more than +that, however, for it had a reputation for being conducted really on a +high plane. + +We met Josephson downstairs. He had been released under bail, though +the place was temporarily closed and watched over by the agents of the +coroner and the police. Josephson appeared to be a man of some +education and quite different from what I had imagined from hearing him +over the telephone. + +“Oh, Mr. Kennedy,” he exclaimed, “who now will come to my baths? Last +night they were crowded, but to-day—” + +He ended with an expressive gesture of his hands. + +“One customer I have surely lost, young Mr. Pearcy,” he went on. + +“Warner Pearcy?” asked Craig. “Was he here last night?” + +“Nearly every night,” replied Josephson, now glib enough as his first +excitement subsided and his command of English returned. “He was a +neighbor of Mr. Minturn’s, I hear. Oh, what luck!” growled Josephson as +the name recalled him to his present troubles. + +“Well,” remarked Kennedy with an attempt at reassurance as if to gain +the masseur’s confidence, “I know as well as you that it is often +amazing what a tremendous shock a man may receive and yet not be +killed, and no less amazing how small a shock may kill. It all depends +on circumstances.” + +Josephson shot a covert look at Kennedy. “Yes,” he reiterated, “but I +cannot see how it _could_ be. If the lights had become short-circuited +with the bath, that might have thrown a current into the bath. But they +were not. I know it.” + +“Still,” pursued Kennedy, watching him keenly, “it is not all a +question of current. To kill, the shock must pass through a vital +organ—the brain, the heart, the upper spinal cord. So, a small shock +may kill and a large one may not. If it passes in one foot and out by +the other, the current isn’t likely to be as dangerous as if it passes +in by a hand or foot and then out by a foot or hand. In one case it +passes through no vital organ; in the other it is very likely to do so. +You see, the current can flow through the body only when it has a place +of entrance and a place of exit. In all cases of accident from electric +light wires, the victim is touching some conductor—damp earth, salty +earth, water, something that gives the current an outlet and—” + +“But even if the lights had been short-circuited,” interrupted +Josephson, “Mr. Minturn would have escaped injury unless he had touched +the taps of the bath. Oh, no, sir, accidents in the medical use of +electricity are rare. They don’t happen here in my establishment,” he +maintained stoutly. “The trouble was that the coroner, without any +knowledge of the physiological effects of electricity on the body, +simply jumped at once to the conclusion that it was the electric bath +that did it.” + +“Then it was for medical treatment that Mr. Minturn was taking the +bath?” asked Kennedy, quickly taking up the point. + +“Yes, of course,” answered the masseur, eager to explain. “You are +acquainted with the latest treatment for lead poisoning by means of the +electric bath?” + +Kennedy nodded. “I know that Sir Thomas Oliver, the English authority +who has written much on dangerous trades, has tried it with marked +success.” + +“Well, sir, that was why Mr. Minturn was here. He came here introduced +by a Dr. Gunther of Stratfield.” + +“Indeed?” remarked Kennedy colorlessly, though I could see that it +interested him, for evidently Minturn had said nothing of being himself +a sufferer from the poison. “May I see the bath?” + +“Surely,” said Josephson, leading the way upstairs. + +It was an oaken tub with metal rods on the two long sides, from which +depended prismatic carbon rods. Kennedy examined it closely. + +“This is what we call a hydro-electric bath,” Josephson explained. +“Those rods on the sides are the electrodes. You see there are no metal +parts in the tub itself. The rods are attached by wiring to a wall +switch out here.” + +He pointed to the next room. Kennedy examined the switch with care. + +“From it,” went on Josephson, “wires lead to an accumulator battery of +perhaps thirty volts. It uses very little current. Dr. Gunther tested +it and found it all right.” + +Craig leaned over the bath, and from the carbon electrodes scraped off +a white powder in minute crystals. + +“Ordinarily,” Josephson pursued, “lead is eliminated by the skin and +kidneys. But now, as you know, it is being helped along by +electrolysis. I talked to Dr. Gunther about it. It is his opinion that +it is probably eliminated as a chloride from the tissues of the body to +the electrodes in the bath in which the patient is wholly or partly +immersed. On the positive electrodes we get the peroxide. On the +negative there is a spongy metallic form of lead. But it is only a +small amount.” + +“The body has been removed?” asked Craig. + +“Not yet,” the masseur replied. “The coroner has ordered it kept here +under guard until he makes up his mind what disposition to have made of +it.” + +We were next ushered into a little room on the same floor, at the door +of which was posted an official from the coroner. + +“First of all,” remarked Craig, as he drew back the sheet and began, a +minute examination of the earthly remains of the great lawyer, “there +are to be considered the safeguards of the human body against the +passage through it of a fatal electric current—the high electric +resistance of the body itself. It is particularly high when the current +must pass through joints such as wrists, knees, elbows, and quite high +when the bones of the head are concerned. Still, there might have been +an incautious application of the current to the head, especially when +the subject is a person of advanced age or latent cerebral disease, +though I don’t know that that fits Mr. Minturn. That’s strange,” he +muttered, looking up, puzzled. “I can find no mark of a burn on the +body—absolutely no mark of anything.” + +“That’s what I say,” put in Josephson, much pleased by what Kennedy +said, for he had been waiting anxiously to see what Craig discovered on +his own examination. “It’s impossible.” + +“It’s all the more remarkable,” went on Craig, half to himself and +ignoring Josephson, “because burns due to electric currents are totally +unlike those produced in other ways. They occur at the point of +contact, usually about the arms and hands, or the head. Electricity is +much to be feared when it involves the cranial cavity.” He completed +his examination of the head which once had carried secrets which +themselves must have been incandescent. + +“Then, too, such burns are most often something more than superficial, +for considerable heat is developed which leads to massive destruction +and carbonization of the tissues to a considerable depth. I have seen +actual losses of substance—a lump of killed flesh surrounded by healthy +tissues. Besides, such burns show an unexpected indolence when compared +to the violent pains of ordinary burns. Perhaps that is due to the +destruction of the nerve endings. How did Minturn die? Was he alone? +Was he dead when he was discovered?” + +“He was alone,” replied Josephson, slowly endeavoring to tell it +exactly as he had seen it, “but that’s the strange part of it. He +seemed to be suffering from a convulsion. I think he complained at +first of a feeling of tightness of his throat and a twitching of the +muscles of his hands and feet. Anyhow, he called for help. I was up +here and we rushed in. Dr. Gunther had just brought him and then had +gone away, after introducing him, and showing him the bath.” + +Josephson proceeded slowly, evidently having been warned that anything +he said might be used against him. “We carried him, when he was this +way, into this very room. But it was only for a short time. Then came a +violent convulsion. It seemed to extend rapidly all over his body. His +legs were rigid, his feet bent, his head back. Why, he was resting only +on his heels and the back of his head. You see, Mr. Kennedy, that +simply could not be the electric shock.” + +“Hardly,” commented Kennedy, looking again at the body. “It looks more +like a tetanus convulsion. Yet there does not seem to be any trace of a +recent wound that might have caused lockjaw. How did he look?” + +“Oh, his face finally became livid,” replied Josephson. “He had a +ghastly, grinning expression, his eyes were wide, there was foam on his +mouth, and his breathing was difficult.” + +“Not like tetanus, either,” revised Craig. “There the convulsion +usually begins with the face and progresses to the other muscles. Here +it seems to have gone the other way.” + +“That lasted a minute or so,” resumed the masseur. “Then he sank +back—perfectly limp. I thought he was dead. But he was not. A cold +sweat broke out all over him and he was as if in a deep sleep.” + +“What did you do?” prompted Kennedy. + +“I didn’t know what to do. I called an ambulance. But the moment the +door opened, his body seemed to stiffen again. He had one other +convulsion—and when he grew limp he was dead.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX +THE LEAD POISONER + + +It was a gruesome recital and I was glad to leave the baths finally +with Kennedy. Josephson was quite evidently relieved at the attitude +Craig had taken toward the coroner’s conclusion that Minturn had been +shocked to death. As far as I could see, however, it added to rather +than cleared up the mystery. + +Craig went directly uptown to his laboratory, in contrast with our +journey down, in abstracted silence, which was his manner when he was +trying to reason out some particularly knotty problem. + +As Kennedy placed the white crystals which he had scraped off the +electrodes of the tub on a piece of dark paper in the laboratory, he +wet the tip of his finger and touched just the minutest grain to his +tongue. + +The look on his face told me that something unexpected had happened. He +held a similar minute speck of the powder out to me. + +It was an intensely bitter taste and very persistent, for even after we +had rinsed out our mouths it seemed to remain, clinging persistently to +the tongue. + +He placed some of the grains in some pure water. They dissolved only +slightly, if at all. But in a tube in which he mixed a little ether and +chloroform they dissolved fairly readily. + +Next, without a word, he poured just a drop of strong sulphuric acid on +the crystals. There was not a change in them. + +Quickly he reached up into the rack and took down a bottle labeled +“Potassium Bichromate.” + +“Let us see what an oxidizing agent will do,” he remarked. + +As he gently added the bichromate, there came a most marvelous, +kaleidoscopic change. From being almost colorless, the crystals turned +instantly to a deep blue, then rapidly to purple, lilac, red, and then +the red slowly faded away and they became colorless again. + +“What is it?” I asked, fascinated. “Lead?” + +“N-no,” he replied, the lines of his forehead deepening. “No. This is +sulphate of strychnine.” + +“Sulphate of strychnine?” I repeated in astonishment. + +“Yes,” he reiterated slowly. “I might have suspected that from the +convulsions, particularly when Josephson said that the noise and +excitement of the arrival of the ambulance brought on the fatal +paroxysm. That is symptomatic. But I didn’t fully realize it until I +got up here and tasted the stuff. Then I suspected, for that taste is +characteristic. Even one part diluted seventy thousand times gives that +decided bitter taste.” + +“That’s all very well,” I remarked, recalling the intense bitterness +yet on my tongue. “But how do you suppose it was possible for anyone to +administer it? It seems to me that he would have said something, if he +had swallowed even the minutest part of it. He must have known it. Yet +apparently he didn’t. At least he said nothing about it—or else +Josephson is concealing something.” + +“Did he swallow it—necessarily?” queried Kennedy, in a tone calculated +to show me that the chemical world, at least, was full of a number of +things, and there was much to learn. + +“Well, I suppose if it had been given hypodermically, it would have a +more violent effect,” I persisted, trying to figure out a way that the +poison might have been given. + +“Even more unlikely,” objected Craig, with a delight at discovering a +new mystery that to me seemed almost fiendish. “No, he would certainly +have felt a needle, have cried out and said something about it, if +anyone had tried that. This poisoned needle business isn’t as easy as +some people seem to think nowadays.” + +“Then he might have absorbed it from the water,” I insisted, recalling +a recent case of Kennedy’s and adding, “by osmosis.” + +“You saw how difficult it was to dissolve in water,” Craig rejected +quietly. + +“Well, then,” I concluded in desperation. “How could it have been +introduced?” + +“I have a theory,” was all he would say, reaching for the railway +guide, “but it will take me up to Stratfield to prove it.” + +His plan gave us a little respite and we paused long enough to lunch, +for which breathing space I was duly thankful. The forenoon saw us on +the train, Kennedy carrying a large and cumbersome package which he +brought down with him from the laboratory and which we took turns in +carrying, though he gave no hint of its contents. + +We arrived in Stratfield, a very pretty little mill town, in the middle +of the afternoon, and with very little trouble were directed to the +Pearcy house, after Kennedy had checked the parcel with the station +agent. + +Mrs. Pearcy, to whom we introduced ourselves as reporters of the +_Star_, was a tall blonde. I could not help thinking that she made a +particularly dashing widow. With her at the time was Isabel Pearcy, a +slender girl whose sensitive lips and large, earnest eyes indicated a +fine, high-strung nature. + +Even before we had introduced ourselves, I could not help thinking that +there was a sort of hostility between the women. Certainly it was +evident that there was as much difference in temperament as between the +butterfly and the bee. + +“No,” replied the elder woman quickly to a request from Kennedy for an +interview, “there is nothing that I care to say to the newspapers. They +have said too much already about this—unfortunate affair.” + +Whether it was imagination or not, I fancied that there was an air of +reserve about both women. It struck me as a most peculiar household. +What was it? Was each suspicious of the other? Was each concealing +something? + +I managed to steal a glance at Kennedy’s face to see whether there was +anything to confirm my own impression. He was watching Mrs. Pearcy +closely as she spoke. In fact his next few questions, inconsequential +as they were, seemed addressed to her solely for the purpose of getting +her to speak. + +I followed his eyes and found that he was watching her mouth, in +reality. As she answered I noted her beautiful white teeth. Kennedy +himself had trained me to notice small things, and at the time, though +I thought it was trivial, I recall noticing on her gums, where they +joined the teeth, a peculiar bluish-black line. + +Kennedy had been careful to address only Mrs. Pearcy at first, and as +he continued questioning her, she seemed to realize that he was trying +to lead her along. + +“I must positively refuse to talk any more,” she repeated finally, +rising. “I am not to be tricked into saying anything.” + +She had left the room, evidently expecting that Isabel would follow. +She did not. In fact I felt that Miss Pearcy was visibly relieved by +the departure of her stepmother. She seemed anxious to ask us something +and now took the first opportunity. + +“Tell me,” she said eagerly, “how did Mr. Minturn die? What do they +really think of it in New York?” + +“They think it is poisoning,” replied Craig, noting the look on her +face. + +She betrayed nothing, as far as I could see, except a natural +neighborly interest. “Poisoning?” she repeated. “By what?” + +“Lead poisoning,” he replied evasively. + +She said nothing. It was evident that, slip of a girl though she was, +she was quite the match of anyone who attempted leading questions. +Kennedy changed his method. + +“You will pardon me,” he said apologetically, “for recalling what must +be distressing. But we newspapermen often have to do things and ask +questions that are distasteful. I believe it is rumored that your +father suffered from lead poisoning?” + +“Oh, I don’t know what it was—none of us do,” she cried, almost +pathetically. “I had been living at the settlement until lately. When +father grew worse, I came home. He had such strange +visions—hallucinations, I suppose you would call them. In the daytime +he would be so very morose and melancholy. Then, too, there were +terrible pains in his stomach, and his eyesight began to fail. Yes, I +believe that Dr. Gunther did say it was lead poisoning. But—they have +said so many things—so many things,” she repeated, plainly distressed +at the subject of her recent bereavement. + +“Your brother is not at home?” asked Kennedy, quickly changing the +subject. + +“No,” she answered, then with a flash as though lifting the veil of a +confidence, added: “You know, neither Warner nor I have lived here much +this year. He has been in New York most of the time and I have been at +the settlement, as I already told you.” + +She hesitated, as if wondering whether she should say more, then added +quickly: “It has been repeated often enough; there is no reason why I +shouldn’t say it to you. Neither of us exactly approved of father’s +marriage.” + +She checked herself and glanced about, somewhat with the air of one who +has suddenly considered the possibility of being overheard. + +“May I have a glass of water?” asked Kennedy suddenly. + +“Why, certainly,” she answered, going to the door, apparently eager for +an excuse to find out whether there was some one on the other side of +it. + +There was not, nor any indication that there had been. + +“Evidently she does not have any suspicions of _that_,” remarked +Kennedy in an undertone, half to himself. + +I had no chance to question him, for she returned almost immediately. +Instead of drinking the water, however, he held it carefully up to the +light. It was slightly turbid. + +“You drink the water from the tap?” he asked, as he poured some of it +into a sterilized vial which he drew quickly from his vest pocket. + +“Certainly,” she replied, for the moment nonplussed at his strange +actions. “Everybody drinks the town water in Stratfield.” + +A few more questions, none of which were of importance, and Kennedy and +I excused ourselves. + +At the gate, instead of turning toward the town, however, Kennedy went +on and entered the grounds of the Minturn house next door. The lawyer, +I had understood, was a widower and, though he lived in Stratfield only +part of the time, still maintained his house there. + +We rang the bell and a middle-aged housekeeper answered. + +“I am from the water company,” he began politely. “We are testing the +water, perhaps will supply consumers with filters. Can you let me have +a sample?” + +She did not demur, but invited us in. As she drew the water, Craig +watched her hands closely. She seemed to have difficulty in holding the +glass, and as she handed it to him, I noticed a peculiar hanging down +of the wrist. Kennedy poured the sample into a second vial, and I +noticed that it was turbid, too. With no mention of the tragedy to her +employer, he excused himself, and we walked slowly back to the road. + +Between the two houses Kennedy paused, and for several moments appeared +to be studying them. + +We walked slowly back along the road to the town. As we passed the +local drug store, Kennedy turned and sauntered in. + +He found it easy enough to get into conversation with the druggist, +after making a small purchase, and in the course of a few minutes we +found ourselves gossiping behind the partition that shut off the arcana +of the prescription counter from the rest of the store. + +Gradually Kennedy led the conversation around to the point which he +wanted, and asked, “I wish you’d let me fix up a little sulphureted +hydrogen.” + +“Go ahead,” granted the druggist good-naturedly. “I guess you can do +it. You know as much about drugs as I do. I can stand the smell, if you +can.” + +Kennedy smiled and set to work. + +Slowly he passed the gas through the samples of water he had taken from +the two houses. As he did so the gas, bubbling through, made a blackish +precipitate. + +“What is it?” asked the druggist curiously. + +“Lead sulphide,” replied Kennedy, stroking his chin. “This is an +extremely delicate test. Why, one can get a distinct brownish tinge if +lead is present in even incredibly minute quantities.” + +He continued to work over the vials ranged on the table before him. + +“The water contains, I should say, from ten to fifteen hundredths of a +grain of lead to the gallon,” he remarked finally. + +“Where did it come from?” asked the druggist, unable longer to restrain +his curiosity. + +“I got it up at Pearcy’s,” Kennedy replied frankly, turning to observe +whether the druggist might betray any knowledge of it. + +“That’s strange,” he replied in genuine surprise. “Our water in +Stratfield is supplied by a company to a large area, and it has always +seemed to me to be of great organic purity.” + +“But the pipes are of lead, are they not?” asked Kennedy. + +“Y-yes,” answered the druggist, “I think in most places the service +pipes are of lead. But,” he added earnestly as he saw the implication +of his admission, “water has never to my knowledge been found to attack +the pipes so as to affect its quality injuriously.” + +He turned his own faucet and drew a glassful. “It is normally quite +clear,” he added, holding the glass up. + +It was in fact perfectly clear, and when he passed some of the gas +through it nothing happened at all. + +Just then a man lounged into the store. + +“Hello, Doctor,” greeted the druggist. “Here are a couple of fellows +that have been investigating the water up at Pearcy’s. They’ve found +lead in it. That ought to interest you. This is Dr. Gunther,” he +introduced, turning to us. + +It was an unexpected encounter, one I imagine that Kennedy might have +preferred to take place under other circumstances. But he was equal to +the occasion. + +“We’ve been sent up here to look into the case for the New York +_Star_,” Kennedy said quickly. “I intended to come around to see you, +but you have saved me the trouble.” + +Dr. Gunther looked from one of us to the other. “Seems to me the New +York papers ought to have enough to do without sending men all over the +country making news,” he grunted. + +“Well,” drawled Kennedy quietly, “there seems to be a most remarkable +situation up there at Pearcy’s and Minturn’s, too. As nearly as I can +make out several people there are suffering from unmistakable signs of +lead poisoning. There are the pains in the stomach, the colic, and then +on the gums is that characteristic line of plumbic sulphide, the +distinctive mark produced by lead. There is the wrist-drop, the +eyesight affected, the partial paralysis, the hallucinations and a +condition in old Pearcy’s case almost bordering on insanity—to +enumerate the symptoms that seem to be present in varying degrees in +various persons in the two houses.” + +Gunther looked at Kennedy, as if in doubt just how to take him. + +“That’s what the coroner says, too—lead poisoning,” put in the +druggist, himself as keen as anyone else for a piece of local news, and +evidently not averse to stimulating talk from Dr. Gunther, who had been +Pearcy’s physician. + +“That all seems to be true enough,” replied Gunther at length +guardedly. “I recognized that some time ago.” + +“Why do you think it affects each so differently?” asked the druggist. + +Dr. Gunther settled himself easily back in a chair to speak as one +having authority. “Well,” he began slowly, “Miss Pearcy, of course, +hasn’t been living there much until lately. As for the others, perhaps +this gentleman here from the _Star_ knows that lead, once absorbed, may +remain latent in the system and then make itself felt. It is like +arsenic, an accumulative poison, slowly collecting in the body until +the limit is reached, or until the body, becoming weakened from some +other cause, gives way to it.” + +He shifted his position slowly, and went on, as if defending the course +of action he had taken in the case. + +“Then, too, you know, there is an individual as well as family and sex +susceptibility to lead. Women are especially liable to lead poisoning, +but then perhaps in this case Mrs. Pearcy comes of a family that is +very resistant. There are many factors. Personally, I don’t think +Pearcy himself was resistant. Perhaps Minturn was not, either. At any +rate, after Pearcy’s death, it was I who advised Minturn to take the +electrolysis cure in New York. I took him down there,” added Gunther. +“Confound it, I wish I had stayed with him. But I always found +Josephson perfectly reliable in hydrotherapy with other patients I sent +to him, and I understood that he had been very successful with cases +sent to him by many physicians in the city.” He paused and I waited +anxiously to see whether Kennedy would make some reference to the +discovery of the strychnine salts. + +“Have you any idea how the lead poisoning could have been caused?” +asked Kennedy instead. + +Dr. Gunther shook his head. “It is a puzzle to me,” he answered. “I am +sure of only one thing. It could not be from working in lead, for it is +needless to say that none of them worked.” + +“Food?” Craig suggested. + +The doctor considered. “I had thought of that. I know that many cases +of lead poisoning have been traced to the presence of the stuff in +ordinary foods, drugs and drinks. I have examined the foods, especially +the bread. They don’t use canned goods. I even went so far as to +examine the kitchen ware to see if there could be anything wrong with +the glazing. They don’t drink wines and beers, into which now and then +the stuff seems to get.” + +“You seem to have a good grasp of the subject,” flattered Kennedy, as +we rose to go. “I can hardly blame you for neglecting the water, since +everyone here seems to be so sure of the purity of the supply.” + +Gunther said nothing. I was not surprised, for, at the very least, no +one likes to have an outsider come in and put his finger directly on +the raw spot. What more there might be to it, I could only conjecture. + +We left the druggist’s and Kennedy, glancing at his watch, remarked: +“If you will go down to the station, Walter, and get that package we +left there, I shall be much obliged to you. I want to make just one +more stop, at the office of the water company, and I think I shall just +about have time for it. There’s a pretty good restaurant across the +street. Meet me there, and by that time I shall know whether to carry +out a little plan I have outlined or not.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXX +THE ELECTROLYTIC MURDER + + +We dined leisurely, which seemed strange to me, for it was not +Kennedy’s custom to let moments fly uselessly when he was on a case. +However, I soon found out why it was. He was waiting for darkness. + +As soon as the lights began to glow in the little stores on the main +street, we sallied forth, taking the direction of the Pearcy and +Minturn houses. + +On the way he dropped into the hardware store and purchased a light +spade and one of the small pocket electric flashlights, about which he +wrapped a piece of cardboard in such a way as to make a most effective +dark lantern. + +We trudged along in silence, occasionally changing from carrying the +heavy package to the light spade. + +Both the Pearcy and Minturn houses were in nearly total darkness when +we arrived. They set well back from the road and were plentifully +shielded by shrubbery. Then, too, at night it was not a much frequented +neighborhood. We could easily hear the footsteps of anyone approaching +on the walk, and an occasional automobile gliding past did not worry us +in the least. + +“I have calculated carefully from an examination of the water company’s +map,” said Craig, “just where the water pipe of the two houses branches +off from the main in the road.” + +After a measurement or two from some landmark, we set to work a few +feet inside, under cover of the bushes and the shadows, like two grave +diggers. + +Kennedy had been wielding the spade vigorously for a few minutes when +it touched something metallic. There, just beneath the frost line, we +came upon the service pipe. + +He widened the hole, and carefully scraped off the damp earth that +adhered to the pipe. Next he found a valve where he shut off the water +and cut out a small piece of the pipe. + +“I hope they don’t suspect anything like this in the houses with their +water cut off,” he remarked as he carefully split the piece open +lengthwise and examined it under the light. + +On the interior of the pipe could be seen patchy lumps of white which +projected about an eighth of an inch above the internal surface. As the +pipe dried in the warm night air, they could easily be brushed off as a +white powder. + +“What is it—strychnine?” I asked. + +“No,” he replied, regarding it thoughtfully with some satisfaction. +“That is lead carbonate. There can be no doubt that the turbidity of +the water was due to this powder in suspension. A little dissolves in +the water, while the scales and incrustations in fine particles are +carried along in the current. As a matter of fact the amount necessary +to make the water poisonous need not be large.” + +He applied a little instrument to the cut ends of the pipe. As I bent +over, I could see the needle on its dial deflected just a bit. + +“My voltmeter,” he said, reading it, “shows that there is a current of +about 1.8 volts passing through this pipe all the time.” + +“Electrolysis of water pipes!” I exclaimed, thinking of statements I +had heard by engineers. “That’s what they mean by stray or vagabond +currents, isn’t it?” + +He had seized the lantern and was eagerly following up and down the +line of the water pipe. At last he stopped, with a low exclamation, at +a point where an electric light wire supplying the Minturn cottage +crossed overhead. Fastened inconspicuously to the trunk of a tree which +served as a support for the wire was another wire which led down from +it and was buried in the ground. + +Craig turned up the soft earth as fast as he could, until he reached +the pipe at this point. There was the buried wire wound several times +around it. + +As quickly and as neatly as he could he inserted a connection between +the severed ends of the pipe to restore the flow of water to the +houses, turned on the water and covered up the holes he had dug. Then +he unwrapped the package which we had tugged about all day, and in a +narrow path between the bushes which led to the point where the wire +had tapped the electric light feed he placed in a shallow hole in the +ground a peculiar apparatus. + +As nearly as I could make it out, it consisted of two flat platforms +between which, covered over and projected, was a slip of paper which +moved forward, actuated by clockwork, and pressed on by a sort of +stylus. Then he covered it over lightly with dirt so that, unless +anyone had been looking for it, it would never be noticed. + +It was late when we reached the city again, but Kennedy had one more +piece of work and that devolved on me. All the way down on the train he +had been writing and rewriting something. + +“Walter,” he said, as the train pulled into the station, “I want that +published in to-morrow’s papers.” + +I looked over what he had written. It was one of the most sensational +stories I have ever fathered, beginning, “Latest of the victims of the +unknown poisoner of whole families in Stratfield, Connecticut, is Miss +Isabel Pearcy, whose father, Randall Pearcy, died last week.” + +I knew that it was a “plant” of some kind, for so far he had discovered +no evidence that Miss Pearcy had been affected. What his purpose was, I +could not guess, but I got the story printed. + +The next morning early Kennedy was quietly at work in the laboratory. + +“What is this treatment of lead poisoning by electrolysis?” I asked, +now that there had come a lull when I might get an intelligible answer. +“How does it work?” + +“Brand new, Walter,” replied Kennedy. “It has been discovered that ions +will flow directly through the membranes.” + +“Ions?” I repeated. “What are ions?” + +“Travelers,” he answered, smiling, “so named by Faraday from the Greek +verb, _io_, to go. They are little positive and negative charges of +electricity of which molecules are composed. You know some believe now +that matter is really composed of electrical energy. I think I can +explain it best by a simile I use with my classes. It is as though you +had a ballroom in which the dancers in couples represent the neutral +molecules. There are a certain number of isolated ladies and +gentlemen—dissociated ions—” “Who don’t know these new dances?” I +interrupted. + +“They all know this dance,” he laughed. “But, to be serious in the +simile, suppose at one end of the room there is a large mirror and at +the other a buffet with cigars and champagne. What happens to the +dissociated ions?” + +“Well, I suppose you want me to say that the ladies gather about the +mirror and the men about the buffet.” + +“Exactly. And some of the dancing partners separate and follow the +crowd. Well, that room presents a picture of what happens in an +electrolytic solution at the moment when the electric current is +passing through it.” + +“Thanks,” I laughed. “That was quite adequate to my immature +understanding.” + +Kennedy continued at work, checking up and arranging his data until the +middle of the afternoon, when he went up to Stratfield. + +Having nothing better to do, I wandered out about town in the hope of +running across some one with whom to while away the hours until Kennedy +returned. I found out that, since yesterday, Broadway had woven an +entirely new background for the mystery. Now it was rumored that the +lawyer Minturn himself had been on very intimate terms with Mrs. +Pearcy. I did not pay much attention to the rumor, for I knew that +Broadway is constitutionally unable to believe that anybody is +straight. + +Kennedy had commissioned me to keep in touch with Josephson and I +finally managed to get around to the Baths, to find them still closed. + +As I was talking with him, a very muddy and dusty car pulled up at the +door and a young man whose face was marred by the red congested blood +vessels that are in some a mark of dissipation burst in on us. + +“What—closed up yet—Joe?” he asked. “Haven’t they taken Minturn’s body +away?” + +“Yes, it was sent up to Stratfield to-day,” replied the masseur, “but +the coroner seems to want to worry me all he can.” + +“Too bad. I was up almost all last night, and to-day I have been out in +my car—tired to death. Thought I might get some rest here. Where are +you sending the boys—to the Longacre?” + +“Yes. They’ll take good care of you till I open up again. Hope to see +you back again, then, Mr. Pearcy,” he added, as the young man turned +and hurried out to his car again. “That was that young Pearcy, you +know. Nice boy—but living the life too fast. What’s Kennedy +doing—anything?” + +I did not like the jaunty bravado of the masseur which now seemed to be +returning, since nothing definite had taken shape. I determined that he +should not pump me, as he evidently was trying to do. I had at least +fulfilled Kennedy’s commission and felt that the sooner I left +Josephson the better for both of us. + +I was surprised at dinner to receive a wire from Craig saying that he +was bringing down Dr. Gunther, Mrs. Pearcy and Isabel to New York and +asking me to have Warner Pearcy and Josephson at the laboratory at nine +o’clock. + +By strategy I managed to persuade Pearcy to come, and as for Josephson, +he could not very well escape, though I saw that as long as nothing +more had happened, he was more interested in “fixing” the police so +that he could resume business than anything else. + +As we entered the laboratory that night, Kennedy, who had left his +party at a downtown hotel to freshen up, met us each at the door. +Instead of conducting us in front of his laboratory table, which was +the natural way, he led us singly around through the narrow space back +of it. + +I recall that as I followed him, I half imagined that the floor gave +way just a bit, and there flashed over me, by a queer association of +ideas, the recollection of having visited an amusement park not long +before where merely stepping on an innocent-looking section of the +flooring had resulted in a tremendous knocking and banging beneath, +much to the delight of the lovers of slap-stick humor. This was serious +business, however, and I quickly banished the frivolous thought from my +mind. + +“The discovery of poison, and its identification,” began Craig at last +when we had all arrived and were seated about him, “often involves not +only the use of chemistry but also a knowledge of the chemical effect +of the poison on the body, and the gross as well as microscopic changes +which it produces in various tissues and organs—changes, some due to +mere contact, others to the actual chemicophysiological reaction +between the poison and the body.” + +His hand was resting on the poles of a large battery, as he proceeded: +“Every day the medical detective plays a more and more important part +in the detection of crime, and I might say that, except in the case of +crime complicated by a lunacy plea, his work has earned the respect of +the courts and of detectives, while in the case of insanity the +discredit is the fault rather of the law itself. The ways in which the +doctor can be of use in untangling the facts in many forms of crime +have become so numerous that the profession of medical detective may +almost be called a specialty.” + +Kennedy repeated what he had already told me about electrolysis, then +placed between the poles of the battery a large piece of raw beef. + +He covered the negative electrode with blotting paper and soaked it in +a beaker near at hand. + +“This solution,” he explained, “is composed of potassium iodide. In +this other beaker I have a mixture of ordinary starch.” + +He soaked the positive electrode in the starch and then jammed the two +against the soft red meat. Then he applied the current. + +A few moments later he withdrew the positive electrode. Both it and the +meat under it were blue! + +“What has happened?” he asked. “The iodine ions have actually passed +through the beef to the positive pole and the paper on the electrode. +Here we have starch iodide.” + +It was a startling idea, this of the introduction of a substance by +electrolysis. + +“I may say,” he resumed, “that the medical view of electricity is +changing, due in large measure to the genius of the Frenchman, Dr. +Leduc. The body, we know, is composed largely of water, with salts of +soda and potash. It is an excellent electrolyte. Yet most doctors +regard the introduction of substances by the electric current as +insignificant or nonexistent. But on the contrary the introduction of +drugs by electrolysis is regular and far from being insignificant may +very easily bring about death. + +“That action,” he went on, looking from one of us to another, “may be +therapeutic, as in the cure for lead poisoning by removing the lead, or +it may be toxic—as in the case of actually introducing such a poison as +strychnine into the body by the same forces that will remove the lead.” + +He paused a moment, to enforce the point which had already been +suggested. I glanced about hastily. If anyone in his little audience +was guilty, no one betrayed it, for all were following him, fascinated. +Yet in the wildly throbbing brain of some one of them the guilty +knowledge must be seared indelibly. Would the mere accusation be enough +to dissociate the truth from, that brain or would Kennedy have to +resort to other means? + +“Some one,” he went on, in a low, tense voice, leaning forward, “some +one who knew this effect placed strychnine salts on one of the +electrodes of the bath which Owen Minturn was to use.” + +He did not pause. Evidently he was planning to let the force of his +exposure be cumulative, until from its sheer momentum it carried +everything before it. + +“Walter,” he ordered quickly. “Lend me a hand.” + +Together we moved the laboratory table as he directed. + +There, in the floor, concealed by the shadow, he had placed the same +apparatus which I had seen him bury in the path between the Pearcy and +Minturn estates at Stratfield. + +We scarcely breathed. + +“This,” he explained rapidly, “is what is known as a kinograph—the +invention of Professor HeleShaw of London. It enables me to identify a +person by his or her walk. Each of you as you entered this room has +passed over this apparatus and has left a different mark on the paper +which registers.” + +For a moment he stopped, as if gathering strength for the final +assault. + +“Until late this afternoon I had this kinograph secreted at a certain +place in Stratfield. Some one had tampered with the leaden water pipes +and the electric light cable. Fearful that the lead poisoning brought +on by electrolysis might not produce its result in the intended victim, +that person took advantage of the new discoveries in electrolysis to +complete that work by introducing the deadly strychnine during the very +process of cure of the lead poisoning.” + +He slapped down a copy of a newspaper. “In the news this morning I told +just enough of what I had discovered and colored it in such a way that +I was sure I would arouse apprehension. I did it because I wanted to +make the criminal revisit the real scene of the crime. There was a +double motive now—to remove the evidence and to check the spread of the +poisoning.” + +He reached over, tore off the paper with a quick, decisive motion, and +laid it beside another strip, a little discolored by moisture, as +though the damp earth had touched it. + +“That person, alarmed lest something in the cleverly laid plot, might +be discovered, went to a certain spot to remove the traces of the +diabolical work which were hidden there. My kinograph shows the +footsteps, shows as plainly as if I had been present, the exact person +who tried to obliterate the evidence.” + +An ashen pallor seemed to spread over the face of Miss Pearcy, as +Kennedy shot out the words. + +“That person,” he emphasized, “had planned to put out of the way one +who had brought disgrace on the Pearcy family. It was an act of private +justice.” + +Mrs. Pearcy could stand the strain no longer. She had broken down and +was weeping incoherently. I strained my ears to catch what she was +murmuring. It was Minturn’s name, not Gunther’s, that was on her lips. + +“But,” cried Kennedy, raising an accusatory finger from the kinograph +tracing and pointing it like the finger of Fate itself, “but the +self-appointed avenger forgot that the leaden water pipe was common to +the two houses. Old Mr. Pearcy, the wronged, died first. Isabel has +guessed the family skeleton—has tried hard to shield you, but, Warner +Pearcy, you are the murderer!” + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI +THE EUGENIC BRIDE + + +Scandal, such as that which Kennedy unearthed in this Pearcy case, was +never much to his liking, yet he seemed destined, about this period of +his career, to have a good deal of it. + +We had scarcely finished with the indictment that followed the arrest +of young Pearcy, when we were confronted by a situation which was as +unique as it was intensely modern. + +“There’s absolutely no insanity in Eugenia’s family,” I heard a young +man remark to Kennedy, as my key turned in the lock of the laboratory +door. + +For a moment I hesitated about breaking in on a confidential +conference, then reflected that, as they had probably already heard me +at the lock, I had better go in and excuse myself. + +As I swung the door open, I saw a young man pacing up and down the +laboratory nervously, too preoccupied even to notice the slight noise I +had made. + +He paused in his nervous walk and faced Kennedy, his back to me. + +“Kennedy,” he said huskily, “I wouldn’t care if there was insanity in +her family—for, my God!—the tragedy of it all now—I love her!” + +He turned, following Kennedy’s eyes in my direction, and I saw on his +face the most haggard, haunting look of anxiety that I had ever seen on +a young person. + +Instantly I recognized from the pictures I had seen in the newspapers +young Quincy Atherton, the last of this famous line of the family, who +had attracted a great deal of attention several months previously by +what the newspapers had called his search through society for a +“eugenics bride,” to infuse new blood into the Atherton stock. + +“You need have no fear that Mr. Jameson will be like the other +newspaper men,” reassured Craig, as he introduced us, mindful of the +prejudice which the unpleasant notoriety of Atherton’s marriage had +already engendered in his mind. + +I recalled that when I had first heard of Atherton’s “eugenic +marriage,” I had instinctively felt a prejudice against the very idea +of such cold, calculating, materialistic, scientific mating, as if one +of the last fixed points were disappearing in the chaos of the social +and sex upheaval. + +Now, I saw that one great fact of life must always remain. We might +ride in hydroaeroplanes, delve into the very soul by psychanalysis, +perhaps even run our machines by the internal forces of radium—even +marry according to Galton or Mendel. But there would always be love, +deep passionate love of the man for the woman, love which all the +discoveries of science might perhaps direct a little less blindly, but +the consuming flame of which not all the coldness of science could ever +quench. No tampering with the roots of human nature could ever change +the roots. + +I must say that I rather liked young Atherton. He had a frank, open +face, the most prominent feature of which was his somewhat aristocratic +nose. Otherwise he impressed one as being the victim of heredity in +faults, if at all serious, against which he was struggling heroically. + +It was a most pathetic story which he told, a story of how his family +had degenerated from the strong stock of his ancestors until he was the +last of the line. He told of his education, how he had fallen, a rather +wild youth bent in the footsteps of his father who had been a +notoriously good clubfellow, under the influence of a college +professor, Dr. Crafts, a classmate of his father’s, of how the +professor had carefully and persistently fostered in him an idea that +had completely changed him. + +“Crafts always said it was a case of eugenics against euthenics,” +remarked Atherton, “of birth against environment. He would tell me over +and over that birth gave me the clay, and it wasn’t such bad clay after +all, but that environment would shape the vessel.” + +Then Atherton launched into a description of how he had striven to find +a girl who had the strong qualities his family germ plasm seemed to +have lost, mainly, I gathered, resistance to a taint much like manic +depressive insanity. And as he talked, it was borne in on me that, +after all, contrary to my first prejudice, there was nothing very +romantic indeed about disregarding the plain teachings of science on +the subject of marriage and one’s children. + +In his search for a bride, Dr. Crafts, who had founded a sort of +Eugenics Bureau, had come to advise him. Others may have looked up +their brides in Bradstreet’s, or at least the Social Register. Atherton +had gone higher, had been overjoyed to find that a girl he had met in +the West, Eugenia Gilman, measured up to what his friend told him were +the latest teachings of science. He had been overjoyed because, long +before Crafts had told him, he had found out that he loved her deeply. + +“And now,” he went on, half choking with emotion, “she is apparently +suffering from just the same sort of depression as I myself might +suffer from if the recessive trait became active.” + +“What do you mean, for instance?” asked Craig. + +“Well, for one thing, she has the delusion that my relatives are +persecuting her.” + +“Persecuting her?” repeated Craig, stifling the remark that that was +not in itself a new thing in this or any other family. “How?” + +“Oh, making her feel that, after all, it is Atherton family rather than +Gilman health that counts—little remarks that when our baby is born, +they hope it will resemble Quincy rather than Eugenia, and all that +sort of thing, only worse and more cutting, until the thing has begun +to prey on her mind.” + +“I see,” remarked Kennedy thoughtfully. “But don’t you think this is a +case for a—a doctor, rather than a detective?” + +Atherton glanced up quickly. “Kennedy,” he answered slowly, “where +millions of dollars are involved, no one can guess to what lengths the +human mind will go—no one, except you.” + +“Then you have suspicions of something worse?” + +“Y-yes—but nothing definite. Now, take this case. If I should die +childless, after my wife, the Atherton estate would descend to my +nearest relative, Burroughs Atherton, a cousin.” + +“Unless you willed it to—” + +“I have already drawn a will,” he interrupted, “and in case I survive +Eugenia and die childless, the money goes to the founding of a larger +Eugenics Bureau, to prevent in the future, as much as possible, +tragedies such as this of which I find myself a part. If the case is +reversed, Eugenia will get her third and the remainder will go to the +Bureau or the Foundation, as I call the new venture. But,” and here +young Atherton leaned forward and fixed his large eyes keenly on us, +“Burroughs might break the will. He might show that I was of unsound +mind, or that Eugenia was, too.” + +“Are there no other relatives?” + +“Burroughs is the nearest,” he replied, then added frankly, “I have a +second cousin, a young lady named Edith Atherton, with whom both +Burroughs and I used to be very friendly.” + +It was evident from the way he spoke that he had thought a great deal +about Edith Atherton, and still thought well of her. + +“Your wife thinks it is Burroughs who is persecuting her?” asked +Kennedy. + +Atherton shrugged his shoulders. + +“Does she get along badly with Edith? She knows her I presume?” + +“Of course. The fact is that since the death of her mother, Edith has +been living with us. She is a splendid girl, and all alone in the world +now, and I had hopes that in New York she might meet some one and marry +well.” + +Kennedy was looking squarely at Atherton, wondering whether he might +ask a question without seeming impertinent. Atherton caught the look, +read it, and answered quite frankly, “To tell the truth, I suppose I +might have married Edith, before I met Eugenia, if Professor Crafts had +not dissuaded me. But it wouldn’t have been real love—nor wise. You +know,” he went on more frankly, now that the first hesitation was over +and he realized that if he were to gain anything at all by Kennedy’s +services, there must be the utmost candor between them, “you know +cousins may marry if the stocks are known to be strong. But if there is +a defect, it is almost sure to be intensified. And so I—I gave up the +idea—never had it, in fact, so strongly as to propose to her. And when +I met Eugenia all the Athertons on the family tree couldn’t have bucked +up against the combination.” + +He was deadly in earnest as he arose from the chair into which he had +dropped after I came in. + +“Oh, it’s terrible—this haunting fear, this obsession that I have had, +that, in spite of all I have tried to do, some one, somehow, will +defeat me. Then comes the situation, just at a time when Eugenia and I +feel that we have won against Fate, and she in particular needs all the +consideration and care in the world—and—and I am defeated.” + +Atherton was again pacing the laboratory. + +“I have my car waiting outside,” he pleaded. “I wish you would go with +me to see Eugenia—now.” + +It was impossible to resist him. Kennedy rose and I followed, not +without a trace of misgiving. + +The Atherton mansion was one of the old houses of the city, a somber +stone dwelling with a garden about it on a downtown square, on which +business was already encroaching. We were admitted by a servant who +seemed to walk over the polished floors with stealthy step as if there +was something sacred about even the Atherton silence. As we waited in a +high-ceilinged drawing-room with exquisite old tapestries on the walls, +I could not help feeling myself the influence of wealth and birth that +seemed to cry out from every object of art in the house. + +On the longer wall of the room, I saw a group of paintings. One, I +noted especially, must have been Atherton’s ancestor, the founder of +the line. There was the same nose in Atherton, for instance, a striking +instance of heredity. I studied the face carefully. There was every +element of strength in it, and I thought instinctively that, whatever +might have been the effects of in-breeding and bad alliances, there +must still be some of that strength left in the present descendant of +the house of Atherton. The more I thought about the house, the +portrait, the whole case, the more unable was I to get out of my head a +feeling that though I had not been in such a position before, I had at +least read or heard something of which it vaguely reminded me. + +Eugenia Atherton was reclining listlessly in her room in a deep leather +easy chair, when Atherton took us up at last. She did not rise to greet +us, but I noted that she was attired in what Kennedy once called, as we +strolled up the Avenue, “the expensive sloppiness of the present +styles.” In her case the looseness with which her clothes hung was +exaggerated by the lack of energy with which she wore them. + +She had been a beautiful girl, I knew. In fact, one could see that she +must have been. Now, however, she showed marks of change. Her eyes were +large, and protruding, not with the fire of passion which is often +associated with large eyes, but dully, set in a puffy face, a trifle +florid. Her hands seemed, when she moved them, to shake with an +involuntary tremor, and in spite of the fact that one almost could feel +that her heart and lungs were speeding with energy, she had lost weight +and no longer had the full, rounded figure of health. Her manner showed +severe mental disturbance, indifference, depression, a distressing +deterioration. All her attractive Western breeziness was gone. One felt +the tragedy of it only too keenly. + +“I have asked Professor Kennedy, a specialist, to call, my dear,” said +Atherton gently, without mentioning what the specialty was. + +“Another one?” she queried languorously. + +There was a colorless indifference in the tone which was almost tragic. +She said the words slowly and deliberately, as though even her mind +worked that way. + +From the first, I saw that Kennedy had been observing Eugenia Atherton +keenly. And in the role of specialist in nervous diseases he was +enabled to do what otherwise would have been difficult to accomplish. + +Gradually, from observing her mental condition of indifference which +made conversation extremely difficult as well as profitless, he began +to consider her physical condition. I knew him well enough to gather +from his manner alone as he went on that what had seemed at the start +to be merely a curious case, because it concerned the Athertons, was +looming up in his mind as unusual in itself, and was interesting him +because it baffled him. + +Craig had just discovered that her pulse was abnormally high, and that +consequently she had a high temperature, and was sweating profusely. + +“Would you mind turning your head, Mrs. Atherton?” he asked. + +She turned slowly, half way, her eyes fixed vacantly on the floor until +we could see the once striking profile. + +“No, all the way around, if you please,” added Kennedy. + +She offered no objection, not the slightest resistance. As she turned +her head as far as she could, Kennedy quickly placed his forefinger and +thumb gently on her throat, the once beautiful throat, now with skin +harsh and rough. Softly he moved his fingers just a fraction of an inch +over the so-called “Adam’s apple” and around it for a little distance. + +“Thank you,” he said. “Now around to the other side.” + +He made no other remark as he repeated the process, but I fancied I +could tell that he had had an instant suspicion of something the moment +he touched her throat. + +He rose abstractedly, bowed, and we started to leave the room, +uncertain whether she knew or cared. Quincy had fixed his eyes silently +on Craig, as if imploring him to speak, but I knew how unlikely that +was until he had confirmed his suspicion to the last slightest detail. + +We were passing through a dressing room in the suite when we met a tall +young woman, whose face I instantly recognized, not because I had ever +seen it before, but because she had the Atherton nose so prominently +developed. + +“My cousin, Edith,” introduced Quincy. + +We bowed and stood for a moment chatting. There seemed to be no reason +why we should leave the suite, since Mrs. Atherton paid so little +attention to us even when we had been in the same room. Yet a slight +movement in her room told me that in spite of her lethargy she seemed +to know that we were there and to recognize who had joined us. + +Edith Atherton was a noticeable woman, a woman of temperament, not +beautiful exactly, but with a stateliness about her, an aloofness. The +more I studied her face, with its thin sensitive lips and commanding, +almost imperious eyes, the more there seemed to be something peculiar +about her. She was dressed very simply in black, but it was the +simplicity that costs. One thing was quite evident—her pride in the +family of Atherton. + +And as we talked, it seemed to be that she, much more than Eugenia in +her former blooming health, was a part of the somber house. There came +over me again the impression I had received before that I had read or +heard something like this case before. + +She did not linger long, but continued her stately way into the room +where Eugenia sat. And at once it flashed over me what my impression, +indefinable, half formed, was. I could not help thinking, as I saw her +pass, of the lady Madeline in “The Fall of the House of Usher.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII +THE GERM PLASM + + +I regarded her with utter astonishment and yet found it impossible to +account for such a feeling. I looked at Atherton, but on his face I +could see nothing but a sort of questioning fear that only increased my +illusion, as if he, too, had only a vague, haunting premonition of +something terrible impending. Almost I began to wonder whether the +Atherton house might not crumble under the fierceness of a sudden +whirlwind, while the two women in this case, one representing the +wasted past, the other the blasted future, dragged Atherton down, as +the whole scene dissolved into some ghostly tarn. It was only for a +moment, and then I saw that the more practical Kennedy had been +examining some bottles on the lady’s dresser before which we had +paused. + +One was a plain bottle of pellets which might have been some +homeopathic remedy. + +“Whatever it is that is the matter with Eugenia,” remarked Atherton, +“it seems to have baffled the doctors so far.” + +Kennedy said nothing, but I saw that he had clumsily overturned the +bottle and absently set it up again, as though his thoughts were far +away. Yet with a cleverness that would have done credit to a professor +of legerdemain he had managed to extract two or three of the pellets. + +“Yes,” he said, as he moved slowly toward the staircase in the wide +hall, “most baffling.” + +Atherton was plainly disappointed. Evidently he had expected Kennedy to +arrive at the truth and set matters right by some sudden piece of +wizardry, and it was with difficulty that he refrained from saying so. + +“I should like to meet Burroughs Atherton,” he remarked as we stood in +the wide hall on the first floor of the big house. “Is he a frequent +visitor?” + +“Not frequent,” hastened Quincy Atherton, in a tone that showed some +satisfaction in saying it. “However, by a lucky chance he has promised +to call to-night—a mere courtesy, I believe, to Edith, since she has +come to town on a visit.” + +“Good!” exclaimed Kennedy. “Now, I leave it to you, Atherton, to make +some plausible excuse for our meeting Burroughs here.” + +“I can do that easily.” + +“I shall be here early,” pursued Kennedy as we left. + +Back again in the laboratory to which Atherton insisted on accompanying +us in his car, Kennedy busied himself for a few minutes, crushing up +one of the tablets and trying one or two reactions with some of the +powder dissolved, while I looked on curiously. + +“Craig,” I remarked contemplatively, after a while, “how about Atherton +himself? Is he really free from the—er—stigmata, I suppose you call +them, of insanity?” + +“You mean, may the whole trouble lie with him?” he asked, not looking +up from his work. + +“Yes—and the effect on her be a sort of reflex, say, perhaps the effect +of having sold herself for money and position. In other words, does +she, did she, ever love him? We don’t know that. Might it not prey on +her mind, until with the kind help of his precious relatives even +Nature herself could not stand the strain—especially in the delicate +condition in which she now finds herself?” + +I must admit that I felt the utmost sympathy for the poor girl whom we +had just seen such a pitiable wreck. + +Kennedy closed his eyes tightly until they wrinkled at the corners. + +“I think I have found out the immediate cause of her trouble,” he said +simply, ignoring my suggestion. + +“What is it?” I asked eagerly. + +“I can’t imagine how they could have failed to guess it, except that +they never would have suspected to look for anything resembling +exophthalmic goiter in a person of her stamina,” he answered, +pronouncing the word slowly. “You have heard of the thyroid gland in +the neck?” + +“Yes?” I queried, for it was a mere name to me. + +“It is a vascular organ lying under the chin with a sort of little +isthmus joining the two parts on either side of the windpipe,” he +explained. “Well, when there is any deterioration of those glands +through any cause, all sorts of complications may arise. The thyroid is +one of the so-called ductless glands, like the adrenals above the +kidneys, the pineal gland and the pituitary body. In normal activity +they discharge into the blood substances which are carried to other +organs and are now known to be absolutely essential. + +“The substances which they secrete are called ‘hormones’—those chemical +messengers, as it were, by which many of the processes of the body are +regulated. In fact, no field of experimental physiology is richer in +interest than this. It seems that few ordinary drugs approach in their +effects on metabolism the hormones of the thyroid. In excess they +produce such diseases as exophthalmic goiter, and goiter is concerned +with the enlargement of the glands and surrounding tissues beyond +anything like natural size. Then, too, a defect in the glands causes +the disease known as myxedema in adults and cretinism in children. Most +of all, the gland seems to tell on the germ plasm of the body, +especially in women.” + +I listened in amazement, hardly knowing what to think. Did his +discovery portend something diabolical, or was it purely a defect in +nature which Dr. Crafts of the Eugenics Bureau had overlooked? + +“One thing at a time, Walter,” cautioned Kennedy, when I put the +question to him, scarcely expecting an answer yet. + +That night in the old Atherton mansion, while we waited for Borroughs +to arrive, Kennedy, whose fertile mind had contrived to kill at least +two birds with one stone, busied himself by cutting in on the regular +telephone line and placing an extension of his own in a closet in the +library. To it he attached an ordinary telephone receiver fastened to +an arrangement which was strange to me. As nearly as I can describe it, +between the diaphragm of the regular receiver and a brownish cylinder, +like that of a phonograph, and with a needle attached, was fitted an +air chamber of small size, open to the outer air by a small hole to +prevent compression. + +The work was completed expeditiously, but we had plenty of time to +wait, for Borroughs Atherton evidently did not consider that an evening +had fairly begun until nine o’clock. + +He arrived at last, however, rather tall, slight of figure, +narrow-shouldered, designed for the latest models of imported fabrics. +It was evident merely by shaking hands with Burroughs that he thought +both the Athertons and the Burroughses just the right combination. He +was one of those few men against whom I conceive an instinctive +prejudice, and in this case I felt positive that, whatever faults the +Atherton germ plasm might contain, he had combined others from the +determiners of that of the other ancestors he boasted. I could not help +feeling that Eugenia Atherton was in about as unpleasant an atmosphere +of social miasma as could be imagined. + +Burroughs asked politely after Eugenia, but it was evident that the +real deference was paid to Edith Atherton and that they got along very +well together. Burroughs excused himself early, and we followed soon +after. + +“I think I shall go around to this Eugenics Bureau of Dr. Crafts,” +remarked Kennedy the next day, after a night’s consideration of the +case. + +The Bureau occupied a floor in a dwelling house uptown which had been +remodeled into an office building. Huge cabinets were stacked up +against the walls, and in them several women were engaged in filing +blanks and card records. Another part of the office consisted of an +extensive library on eugenic subjects. + +Dr. Crafts, in charge of the work, whom we found in a little office in +front partitioned off by ground glass, was an old man with an alert, +vigorous mind on whom the effects of plain living and high thinking +showed plainly. He was looking over some new blanks with a young woman +who seemed to be working with him, directing the force of clerks as +well as the “field workers,” who were gathering the vast mass of +information which was being studied. As we introduced ourselves, he +introduced Dr. Maude Schofield. + +“I have heard of your eugenic marriage contests,” began Kennedy, “more +especially of what you have done for Mr. Quincy Atherton.” + +“Well—not exactly a contest in that case, at least,” corrected Dr. +Crafts with an indulgent smile for a layman. + +“No,” put in Dr. Schofield, “the Eugenics Bureau isn’t a human stock +farm.” + +“I see,” commented Kennedy, who had no such idea, anyhow. He was always +lenient with anyone who had what he often referred to as the “illusion +of grandeur.” + +“We advise people sometimes regarding the desirability or the +undesirability of marriage,” mollified Dr. Crafts. “This is a sort of +clearing house for scientific race investigation and improvement.” + +“At any rate,” persisted Kennedy, “after investigation, I understand, +you advised in favor of his marriage with Miss Gilman.” + +“Yes, Eugenia Gilman seemed to measure well up to the requirements in +such a match. Her branch of the Gilmans has always been of the +vigorous, pioneering type, as well as intellectual. Her father was one +of the foremost thinkers in the West; in fact had long held ideas on +the betterment of the race. You see that in the choice of a name for +his daughter—Eugenia.” + +“Then there were no recessive traits in her family,” asked Kennedy +quickly, “of the same sort that you find in the Athertons?” + +“None that we could discover,” answered Dr. Crafts positively. + +“No epilepsy, no insanity of any form?” + +“No. Of course, you understand that almost no one is what might be +called eugenically perfect. Strictly speaking, perhaps not over two or +three per cent. of the population even approximates that standard. But +it seemed to me that in everything essential in this case, weakness +latent in Atherton was mating strength in Eugenia and the same way on +her part for an entirely different set of traits.” + +“Still,” considered Kennedy, “there might have been something latent in +her family germ plasm back of the time through which you could trace +it?” + +Dr. Crafts shrugged his shoulders. “There often is, I must admit, +something we can’t discover because it lies too far back in the past.” + +“And likely to crop out after skipping generations,” put in Maude +Schofield. + +She evidently did not take the same liberal view in the practical +application of the matter expressed by her chief. I set it down to the +ardor of youth in a new cause, which often becomes the saner +conservatism of maturity. + +“Of course, you found it much easier than usual to get at the true +family history of the Athertons,” pursued Kennedy. “It is an old family +and has been prominent for generations.” + +“Naturally,” assented Dr. Crafts. + +“You know Burroughs Atherton on both lines of descent?” asked Kennedy, +changing the subject abruptly. + +“Yes, fairly well,” answered Crafts. + +“Now, for example,” went on Craig, “how would you advise him to marry?” + +I saw at once that he was taking this subterfuge as a way of securing +information which might otherwise have been withheld if asked for +directly. Maude Schofield also saw it, I fancied, but this time said +nothing. “They had a grandfather who was a manic depressive on the +Atherton side,” said Crafts slowly. “Now, no attempt has ever been made +to breed that defect out of the family. In the case of Burroughs, it is +perhaps a little worse, for the other side of his ancestry is not free +from the taint of alcoholism.” + +“And Edith Atherton?” + +“The same way. They both carry it. I won’t go into the Mendelian law on +the subject. We are clearing up much that is obscure. But as to +Burroughs, he should marry, if at all, some one without that particular +taint. I believe that in a few generations by proper mating most taints +might be bred out of families.” + +Maude Schofield evidently did not agree with Dr. Crafts on some point, +and, noticing it, he seemed to be in the position both of explaining +his contention to us and of defending it before his fair assistant. + +“It is my opinion, as far as I have gone with the data,” he added, +“that there is hope for many of those whose family history shows +certain nervous taints. A sweeping prohibition of such marriages would +be futile, perhaps injurious. It is necessary that the mating be +carefully made, however, to prevent intensifying the taint. You see, +though I am a eugenist I am not an extremist.” + +He paused, then resumed argumentatively: “Then there are other +questions, too, like that of genius with its close relation to manic +depressive insanity. Also, there is decrease enough in the birth rate, +without adding an excuse for it. No, that a young man like Atherton +should take the subject seriously, instead of spending his time in wild +dissipation, like his father, is certainly creditable, argues in itself +that there still must exist some strength in his stock. + +“And, of course,” he continued warmly, “when I say that weakness in a +trait—not in all traits, by any means—should marry strength and that +strength may marry weakness, I don’t mean that all matches should be +like that. If we are too strict we may prohibit practically all +marriages. In Atherton’s case, as in many another, I felt that I should +interpret the rule as sanely as possible.” + +“Strength should marry strength, and weakness should never marry,” +persisted Maude Schofield. “Nothing short of that will satisfy the true +eugenist.” + +“Theoretically,” objected Crafts. “But Atherton was going to marry, +anyhow. The only thing for me to do was to lay down a rule which he +might follow safely. Besides, any other rule meant sure disaster.” + +“It was the only rule with half a chance of being followed and at any +rate,” drawled Kennedy, as the eugenists wrangled, “what difference +does it make in this case? As nearly as I can make out it is Mrs. +Atherton herself, not Atherton, who is ill.” + +Maude Schofield had risen to return to supervising a clerk who needed +help. She left us, still unconvinced. + +“That is a very clever girl,” remarked Kennedy as she shut the door and +he scanned Dr. Crafts’ face dosely. + +“Very,” assented the Doctor. + +“The Schofields come of good stock?” hazarded Kennedy. + +“Very,” assented Dr. Crafts again. + +Evidently he did not care to talk about individual cases, and I felt +that the rule was a safe one, to prevent Eugenics from becoming Gossip. +Kennedy thanked him for his courtesy, and we left apparently on the +best of terms both with Crafts and his assistant. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII +THE SEX CONTROL + + +I did not see Kennedy again that day until late in the afternoon, when +he came into the laboratory carrying a small package. + +“Theory is one thing, practice is another,” he remarked, as he threw +his hat and coat into a chair. + +“Which means—in this case?” I prompted. + +“Why, I have just seen Atherton. Of course I didn’t repeat our +conversation of this morning, and I’m glad I didn’t. He almost makes me +think you are right, Walter. He’s obsessed by the fear of Burroughs. +Why, he even told me that Burroughs had gone so far as to take a leaf +out of his book, so to speak, get in touch with the Eugenics Bureau as +if to follow his footsteps, but really to pump them about Atherton +himself. Atherton says it’s all Burroughs’ plan to break his will and +that the fellow has even gone so far as to cultivate the acquaintance +of Maude Schofield, knowing that he will get no sympathy from Crafts.” + +“First it was Edith Atherton, now it is Maude Schofield that he hitches +up with Burroughs,” I commented. “Seems to me that I have heard that +one of the first signs of insanity is belief that everyone about the +victim is conspiring against him. I haven’t any love for any of +them—but I must be fair.” + +“Well,” said Kennedy, unwrapping the package, “there _is_ this much to +it. Atherton says Burroughs and Maude Schofield have been seen together +more than once—and not at intellectual gatherings either. Burroughs is +a fascinating fellow to a woman, if he wants to be, and the Schofields +are at least the social equals of the Burroughs. Besides,” he added, +“in spite of eugenics, feminism, and all the rest—sex, like murder, +will out. There’s no use having any false ideas about _that_. Atherton +may see red—but, then, he was quite excited.” + +“Over what?” I asked, perplexed more than ever at the turn of events. + +“He called me up in the first place. ‘Can’t you do something?’ he +implored. ‘Eugenia is getting worse all the time.’ She is, too. I saw +her for a moment, and she was even more vacant than yesterday.” + +The thought of the poor girl in the big house somehow brought over me +again my first impression of Poe’s story. + +Kennedy had unwrapped the package which proved to be the instrument he +had left in the closet at Atherton’s. It was, as I had observed, like +an ordinary wax cylinder phonograph record. + +“You see,” explained Kennedy, “it is nothing more than a successful +application at last of, say, one of those phonographs you have seen in +offices for taking dictation, placed so that the feebler vibrations of +the telephone affect it. Let us see what we have here.” + +He had attached the cylinder to an ordinary phonograph, and after a +number of routine calls had been run off, he came to this, in voices +which we could only guess at but not recognize, for no names were used. + +“How is she to-day?” + +“Not much changed—perhaps not so well.” + +“It’s all right, though. That is natural. It is working well. I think +you might increase the dose, one tablet.” + +“You’re sure it is all right?” (with anxiety). + +“Oh, positively—it has been done in Europe.” + +“I hope so. It must be a boy—and an _Atherton_.” + +“Never fear.” + +That was all. Who was it? The voices were unfamiliar to me, especially +when repeated mechanically. Besides they may have been disguised. At +any rate we had learned something. Some one was trying to control the +sex of the expected Atherton heir. But that was about all. Who it was, +we knew no better, apparently, than before. + +Kennedy did not seem to care much, however. Quickly he got Quincy +Atherton on the wire and arranged for Atherton to have Dr. Crafts meet +us at the house at eight o’clock that night, with Maude Schofield. Then +he asked that Burroughs Atherton be there, and of course, Edith and +Eugenia. + +We arrived almost as the clock was striking, Kennedy carrying the +phonograph record and another blank record, and a boy tugging along the +machine itself. Dr. Crafts was the next to appear, expressing surprise +at meeting us, and I thought a bit annoyed, for he mentioned that it +had been with reluctance that he had had to give up some work he had +planned for the evening. Maude Schofield, who came with him, looked +bored. Knowing that she disapproved of the match with Eugenia, I was +not surprised. Burroughs arrived, not as late as I had expected, but +almost insultingly supercilious at finding so many strangers at what +Atherton had told him was to be a family conference, in order to get +him to come. Last of all Edith Atherton descended the staircase, the +personification of dignity, bowing to each with a studied graciousness, +as if distributing largess, but greeting Burroughs with an air that +plainly showed how much thicker was blood than water. Eugenia remained +upstairs, lethargic, almost cataleptic, as Atherton told us when we +arrived. + +“I trust you are not going to keep us long, Quincy,” yawned Burroughs, +looking ostentatiously at his watch. + +“Only long enough for Professor Kennedy to say a few words about +Eugenia,” replied Atherton nervously, bowing to Kennedy. + +Kennedy cleared his throat slowly. + +“I don’t know that I have much to say,” began Kennedy, still seated. “I +suppose Mr. Atherton has told you I have been much interested in the +peculiar state of health of Mrs. Atherton?” + +No one spoke, and he went on easily: “There is something I might say, +however, about the—er—what I call the chemistry of insanity. Among the +present wonders of science, as you doubtless know, none stirs the +imagination so powerfully as the doctrine that at least some forms of +insanity are the result of chemical changes in the blood. For instance, +ill temper, intoxication, many things are due to chemical changes in +the blood acting on the brain. + +“Go further back. Take typhoid fever with its delirium, influenza with +its suicide mania. All due to toxins—poisons. Chemistry—chemistry—all +of them chemistry.” + +Craig had begun carefully so as to win their attention. He had it as he +went on: “Do we not brew within ourselves poisons which enter the +circulation and pervade the system? A sudden emotion upsets the +chemistry of the body. Or poisonous food. Or a drug. It affects many +things. But we could never have had this chemical theory unless we had +had physiological chemistry—and some carry it so far as to say that the +brain secretes thought, just as the liver secretes bile, that thoughts +are the results of molecular changes.” + +“You are, then, a materialist of the most pronounced type,” asserted +Dr. Crafts. + +Kennedy had been reaching over to a table, toying with the phonograph. +As Crafts spoke he moved a key, and I suspected that it was in order to +catch the words. + +“Not entirely,” he said. “No more than some eugenists.” + +“In our field,” put in Maude Schofield, “I might express the thought +this way—the sociologist has had his day; now it is the biologist, the +eugenist.” + +“That expresses it,” commented Kennedy, still tinkering with the +record. “Yet it does not mean that because we have new ideas, they +abolish the old. Often they only explain, amplify, supplement. For +instance,” he said, looking up at Edith Atherton, “take heredity. Our +knowledge seems new, but is it? Marriages have always been dictated by +a sort of eugenics. Society is founded on that.” + +“Precisely,” she answered. “The best families have always married into +the best families. These modern notions simply recognize what the best +people have always thought—except that it seems to me,” she added with +a sarcastic flourish, “people of no ancestry are trying to force +themselves in among their betters.” + +“Very true, Edith,” drawled Burroughs, “but we did not have to be +brought here by Quincy to learn that.” + +Quincy Atherton had risen during the discussion and had approached +Kennedy. Craig continued to finger the phonograph abstractedly, as he +looked up. + +“About this—this insanity theory,” he whispered eagerly. “You think +that the suspicions I had have been justified?” + +I had been watching Kennedy’s hand. As soon as Atherton had started to +speak, I saw that Craig, as before, had moved the key, evidently +registering what he said, as he had in the case of the others during +the discussion. + +“One moment, Atherton,” he whispered in reply, “I’m coming to that. +Now,” he resumed aloud, “there is a disease, or a number of diseases, +to which my remarks about insanity a while ago might apply very well. +They have been known for some time to arise from various affections of +the thyroid glands in the neck. These glands, strange to say, if acted +on in certain ways can cause degenerations of mind and body, which are +well known, but in spite of much study are still very little +understood. For example, there is a definite interrelation between them +and sex—especially in woman.” + +Rapidly he sketched what he had already told me of the thyroid and the +hormones. “These hormones,” added Kennedy, “are closely related to many +reactions in the body, such as even the mother’s secretion of milk at +the proper time and then only. That and many other functions are due to +the presence and character of these chemical secretions from the +thyroid and other ductless glands. It is a fascinating study. For we +know that anything that will upset—reduce or increase—the hormones is a +matter intimately concerned with health. Such changes,” he said +earnestly, leaning forward, “might be aimed directly at the very heart +of what otherwise would be a true eugenic marriage. It is even possible +that loss of sex itself might be made to follow deep changes of the +thyroid.” + +He stopped a moment. Even if he had accomplished nothing else he had +struck a note which had caused the Athertons to forget their former +superciliousness. + +“If there is an oversupply of thyroid hormones,” continued Craig, “that +excess will produce many changes, for instance a condition very much +like exophthalmic goiter. And,” he said, straightening up, “I find that +Eugenia Atherton has within her blood an undue proportion of these +thyroid hormones. Now, is it overfunction of the glands, +hyper-secretion—or is it something else?” + +No one moved as Kennedy skillfully led his disclosure along step by +step. + +“That question,” he began again slowly, shifting his position in the +chair, “raises in my mind, at least, a question which has often +occurred to me before. Is it possible for a person, taking advantage of +the scientific knowledge we have gained, to devise and successfully +execute a murder without fear of discovery? In other words, can a +person be removed with that technical nicety of detail which will leave +no clue and will be set down as something entirely natural, though +unfortunate?” + +It was a terrible idea he was framing, and he dwelt on it so that we +might accept it at its full value. “As one doctor has said,” he added, +“although toxicologists and chemists have not always possessed +infallible tests for practical use, it is at present a pretty certain +observation that every poison leaves its mark. But then on the other +hand, students of criminology have said that a skilled physician or +surgeon is about the only person now capable of carrying out a really +scientific murder. + +“Which is true? It seems to me, at least in the latter case, that the +very nicety of the handiwork must often serve as a clue in itself. The +trained hand leaves the peculiar mark characteristic of its training. +No matter how shrewdly the deed is planned, the execution of it is +daily becoming a more and more difficult feat, thanks to our increasing +knowledge of microbiology and pathology.” + +He had risen, as he finished the sentence, every eye fixed on him, as +if he had been a master hypnotist. + +“Perhaps,” he said, taking off the cylinder from the phonograph and +placing on one which I knew was that which had lain in the library +closet over night, “perhaps some of the things I have said will explain +or be explained by the record on this cylinder.” + +He had started the machine. So magical was the effect on the little +audience that I am tempted to repeat what I had already heard, but had +not myself yet been able to explain: + +“How is she to-day?” + +“Not much changed—perhaps not so well.” + +“It’s all right, though. That is natural. It is working well. I think +you might increase the dose one tablet.” + +“You’re sure it is all right?” + +“Oh, positively—it has been done in Europe.” + +“I hope so. It must be a boy—and an _Atherton_.” + +“Never fear.” + +No one moved a muscle. If there was anyone in the room guilty of +playing on the feelings and the health of an unfortunate woman, that +person must have had superb control of his own feelings. + +“As you know,” resumed Kennedy thoughtfully, “there are and have been +many theories of sex control. One of the latest, but by no means the +only one, is that it can be done by use of the extracts of various +glands administered to the mother. I do not know with what scientific +authority it was stated, but I do know that some one has recently said +that adrenalin, derived from the suprarenal glands, induces boys to +develop—cholin, from the bile of the liver, girls. It makes no +difference—in this case. There may have been a show of science. But it +was to cover up a crime. Some one has been administering to Eugenia +Atherton tablets of thyroid extract—ostensibly to aid her in fulfilling +the dearest ambition of her soul—to become the mother of a new line of +Athertons which might bear the same relation to the future of the +country as the great family of the Edwards mothered by Elizabeth +Tuttle.” + +He was bending over the two phonograph cylinders now, rapidly comparing +the new one which he had made and that which he had just allowed to +reel off its astounding revelation. + +“When a voice speaks into a phonograph,” he said, half to himself, “its +modulations received on the diaphragm are written by a needle point +upon the surface of a cylinder or disk in a series of fine waving or +zigzag lines of infinitely varying depth or breadth. Dr. Marage and +others have been able to distinguish vocal sounds by the naked eye on +phonograph records. Mr. Edison has studied them with the microscope in +his world-wide search for the perfect voice. + +“In fact, now it is possible to identify voices by the records they +make, to get at the precise meaning of each slightest variation of the +lines with mathematical accuracy. They can no more be falsified than +handwriting can be forged so that modern science cannot detect it or +than typewriting can be concealed and attributed to another machine. +The voice is like a finger print, a portrait parlé—unescapable.” + +He glanced up, then back again. “This microscope shows me,” he said, +“that the voices on that cylinder you heard are identical with two on +this record which I have just made in this room.” + +“Walter,” he said, motioning to me, “look.” + +I glanced into the eyepiece and saw a series of lines and curves, +peculiar waves lapping together and making an appearance in some spots +almost like tooth marks. Although I did not understand the details of +the thing, I could readily see that by study one might learn as much +about it as about loops, whorls, and arches on finger tips. + +“The upper and lower lines,” he explained, “with long regular waves, on +that highly magnified section of the record, are formed by the voice +with no overtones. The three lines in the middle, with rhythmic +ripples, show the overtones.” + +He paused a moment and faced us. “Many a person,” he resumed, “is a +biotype in whom a full complement of what are called inhibitions never +develops. That is part of your eugenics. Throughout life, and in spite +of the best of training, that person reacts now and then to a certain +stimulus directly. A man stands high; once a year he falls with a +lethal quantity of alcohol. A woman, brilliant, accomplished, slips +away and spends a day with a lover as unlike herself as can be +imagined. + +“The voice that interests me most on these records,” he went on, +emphasizing the words with one of the cylinders which he still held, +“is that of a person who has been working on the family pride of +another. That person has persuaded the other to administer to Eugenia +an extract because ‘it must be a boy and an Atherton.’ That person is a +high-class defective, born with a criminal instinct, reacting to it in +an artful way. Thank God, the love of a man whom theoretical eugenics +condemned, roused us in—” + +A cry at the door brought us all to our feet, with hearts thumping as +if they were bursting. + +It was Eugenia Atherton, wild-eyed, erect, staring. + +I stood aghast at the vision. Was she really to be the Lady Madeline in +this fall of the House of Atherton? + +“Edith—I—I missed you. I heard voices. Is—is it true—what this +man—says? Is my—my baby—” + +Quincy Atherton leaped forward and caught her as she reeled. Quickly +Craig threw open a window for air, and as he did so leaned far out and +blew shrilly on a police whistle. + +The young man looked up from Eugenia, over whom he was bending, +scarcely heeding what else went on about him. Still, there was no trace +of anger on his face, in spite of the great wrong that had been done +him. There was room for only one great emotion—only anxiety for the +poor girl who had suffered so cruelly merely for taking his name. + +Kennedy saw the unspoken question in his eyes. + +“Eugenia is a pure normal, as Dr. Crafts told you,” he said gently. “A +few weeks, perhaps only days, of treatment—the thyroid will revert to +its normal state—and Eugenia Gilman will be the mother of a new house +of Atherton which may eclipse even the proud record of the founder of +the old.” + +“Who blew the whistle?” demanded a gruff voice at the door, as a tall +bluecoat puffed past the scandalized butler. + +“Arrest that woman,” pointed Kennedy. “She is the poisoner. Either as +wife of Burroughs, whom she fascinates and controls as she does Edith, +she planned to break the will of Quincy or, in the other event, to +administer the fortune as head of the Eugenics Foundation after the +death of Dr. Crafts, who would have followed Eugenia and Quincy +Atherton.” + +I followed the direction of Kennedy’s accusing finger. Maude +Schofield’s face betrayed more than even her tongue could have +confessed. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV +THE BILLIONAIRE BABY + + +Coming to us directly as a result of the talk that the Atherton case +provoked was another that involved the happiness of a wealthy family to +a no less degree. + +“I suppose you have heard of the ‘billionaire baby,’ Morton Hazleton +III?” asked Kennedy of me one afternoon shortly afterward. + +The mere mention of the name conjured up in my mind a picture of the +lusty two-year-old heir of two fortunes, as the feature articles in the +_Star_ had described that little scion of wealth—his luxurious nursery, +his magnificent toys, his own motor car, a trained nurse and a +detective on guard every hour of the day and night, every possible +precaution for his health and safety. + +“Gad, what a lucky kid!” I exclaimed involuntarily. + +“Oh, I don’t know about that,” put in Kennedy. “The fortune may be +exaggerated. His happiness is, I’m sure.” + +He had pulled from his pocketbook a card and handed it to me. It read: +“Gilbert Butler, American representative, Lloyd’s.” + +“Lloyd’s?” I queried. “What has Lloyd’s to do with the billion-dollar +baby?” + +“Very much. The child has been insured with them for some fabulous sum +against accident, including kidnaping.” + +“Yes?” I prompted, “sensing” a story. + +“Well, there seem to have been threats of some kind, I understand. Mr. +Butler has called on me once already to-day to retain my services and +is going to—ah—there he is again now.” + +Kennedy had answered the door buzzer himself, and Mr. Butler, a tall, +sloping-shouldered Englishman, entered. + +“Has anything new developed?” asked Kennedy, introducing me. + +“I can’t say,” replied Butler dubiously. “I rather think we have found +something that may have a bearing on the case. You know Miss Haversham, +Veronica Haversham?” + +“The actress and professional beauty? Yes—at least I have seen her. +Why?” + +“We hear that Morton Hazleton knows her, anyhow,” remarked Butler +dryly. + +“Well?” + +“Then you don’t know the gossip?” he cut in. “She is said to be in a +sanitarium near the city. I’ll have to find that out for you. It’s a +fast set she has been traveling with lately, including not only +Hazleton, but Dr. Maudsley, the Hazleton physician, and one or two +others, who if they were poorer might be called desperate characters.” + +“Does Mrs. Hazleton know of—of his reputed intimacy?” + +“I can’t say that, either. I presume that she is no fool.” + +Morton Hazleton, Jr., I knew, belonged to a rather smart group of young +men. He had been mentioned in several near-scandals, but as far as I +knew there had been nothing quite as public and definite as this one. + +“Wouldn’t that account for her fears?” I asked. + +“Hardly,” replied Butler, shaking his head. “You see, Mrs. Hazleton is +a nervous wreck, but it’s about the baby, and caused, she says, by her +fears for its safety. It came to us only in a roundabout way, through a +servant in the house who keeps us in touch. The curious feature is that +we can seem to get nothing definite from her about her fears. They may +be groundless.” + +Butler shrugged his shoulders and proceeded, “And they may be +well-founded. But we prefer to run no chances in a case of this kind. +The child, you know, is guarded in the house. In his perambulator he is +doubly guarded, and when he goes out for his airing in the automobile, +two men, the chauffeur and a detective, are always there, besides his +nurse, and often his mother or grandmother. Even in the nursery suite +they have iron shutters which can be pulled down and padlocked at night +and are constructed so as to give plenty of fresh air even to a +scientific baby. Master Hazleton was the best sort of risk, we thought. +But now—we don’t know.” + +“You can protect yourselves, though,” suggested Kennedy. + +“Yes, we have, under the policy, the right to take certain measures to +protect ourselves in addition to the precautions taken by the +Hazletons. We have added our own detective to those already on duty. +But we—we don’t know what to guard against,” he concluded, perplexed. +“We’d like to know—that’s all. It’s too big a risk.” + +“I may see Mrs. Hazleton?” mused Kennedy. + +“Yes. Under the circumstances she can scarcely refuse to see anyone we +send. I’ve arranged already for you to meet her within an hour. Is that +all right?” + +“Certainly.” + +The Hazleton home in winter in the city was uptown, facing the river. +The large grounds adjoining made the Hazletons quite independent of the +daily infant parade which one sees along Riverside Drive. + +As we entered the grounds we could almost feel the very atmosphere on +guard. We did not see the little subject of so much concern, but I +remembered his much heralded advent, when his grandparents had settled +a cold million on him, just as a reward for coming into the world. +Evidently, Morton, Sr., had hoped that Morton, Jr., would calm down, +now that there was a third generation to consider. It seemed that he +had not. I wondered if that had really been the occasion of the threats +or whatever it was that had caused Mrs. Hazleton’s fears, and whether +Veronica Haversham or any of the fast set around her had had anything +to do with it. + +Millicent Hazleton was a very pretty little woman, in whom one saw +instinctively the artistic temperament. She had been an actress, too, +when young Morton Hazleton married her, and at first, at least, they +had seemed very devoted to each other. + +We were admitted to see her in her own library, a tastefully furnished +room on the second floor of the house, facing a garden at the side. + +“Mrs. Hazleton,” began Butler, smoothing the way for us, “of course you +realize that we are working in your interests. Professor Kennedy, +therefore, in a sense, represents both of us.” + +“I am quite sure I shall be delighted to help you,” she said with an +absent expression, though not ungraciously. + +Butler, having introduced us, courteously withdrew. “I leave this +entirely in your hands,” he said, as he excused himself. “If you want +me to do anything more, call on me.” + +I must say that I was much surprised at the way she had received us. +Was there in it, I wondered, an element of fear lest if she refused to +talk suspicion might grow even greater? One could see anxiety plainly +enough on her face, as she waited for Kennedy to begin. + +A few moments of general conversation then followed. + +“Just what is it you fear?” he asked, after having gradually led around +to the subject. “Have there been any threatening letters?” + +“N-no,” she hesitated, “at least nothing—definite.” + +“Gossip?” he hinted. + +“No.” She said it so positively that I fancied it might be taken for a +plain “Yes.” + +“Then what is it?” he asked, very deferentially, but firmly. + +She had been looking out at the garden. “You couldn’t understand,” she +remarked. “No detective—” she stopped. + +“You may be sure, Mrs. Hazleton, that I have not come here +unnecessarily to intrude,” he reassured her. “It is exactly as Mr. +Butler put it. We—want to help you.” + +I fancied there seemed to be something compelling about his manner. It +was at once sympathetic and persuasive. Quite evidently he was taking +pains to break down the prejudice in her mind which she had already +shown toward the ordinary detective. + +“You would think me crazy,” she remarked slowly. “But it is just a—a +dream—just dreams.” + +I don’t think she had intended to say anything, for she stopped short +and looked at him quickly as if to make sure whether he could +understand. As for myself, I must say I felt a little skeptical. To my +surprise, Kennedy seemed to take the statement at its face value. + +“Ah,” he remarked, “an anxiety dream? You will pardon me, Mrs. +Hazleton, but before we go further let me tell you frankly that I am +much more than an ordinary detective. If you will permit me, I should +rather have you think of me as a psychologist, a specialist, one who +has come to set your mind at rest rather than to worm things from you +by devious methods against which you have to be on guard. It is just +for such an unusual case as yours that Mr. Butler has called me in. By +the way, as our interview may last a few minutes, would you mind +sitting down? I think you’ll find it easier to talk if you can get your +mind perfectly at rest, and for the moment trust to the nurse and the +detectives who are guarding the garden, I am sure, perfectly.” + +She had been standing by the window during the interview and was quite +evidently growing more and more nervous. With a bow Kennedy placed her +at her ease on a chaise lounge. + +“Now,” he continued, standing near her, but out of sight, “you must try +to remain free from all external influences and impressions. Don’t +move. Avoid every use of a muscle. Don’t let anything distract you. +Just concentrate your attention on your psychic activities. Don’t +suppress one idea as unimportant, irrelevant, or nonsensical. Simply +tell me what occurs to you in connection with the dreams—everything,” +emphasized Craig. + +I could not help feeling surprised to find that she accepted Kennedy’s +deferential commands, for after all that was what they amounted to. +Almost I felt that she was turning to him for help, that he had broken +down some barrier to her confidence. He seemed to exert a sort of +hypnotic influence over her. + +“I have had cases before which involved dreams,” he was saying quietly +and reassuringly. “Believe me, I do not share the world’s opinion that +dreams are nothing. Nor yet do I believe in them superstitiously. I can +readily understand how a dream can play a mighty part in shaping the +feelings of a high-tensioned woman. Might I ask exactly what it is you +fear in your dreams?” + +She sank her head back in the cushions, and for a moment closed her +eyes, half in weariness, half in tacit obedience to him. “Oh, I have +such horrible dreams,” she said at length, “full of anxiety and fear +for Morton and little Morton. I can’t explain it. But they are so +horrible.” + +Kennedy said nothing. She was talking freely at last. + +“Only last night,” she went on, “I dreamt that Morton was dead. I could +see the funeral, all the preparations, and the procession. It seemed +that in the crowd there was a woman. I could not see her face, but she +had fallen down and the crowd was around her. Then Dr. Maudsley +appeared. Then all of a sudden the dream changed. I thought I was on +the sand, at the seashore, or perhaps a lake. I was with Junior and it +seemed as if he were wading in the water, his head bobbing up and down +in the waves. It was like a desert, too—the sand. I turned, and there +was a lion behind me. I did not seem to be afraid of him, although I +was so close that I could almost feel his shaggy mane. Yet I feared +that he might bite Junior. The next I knew I was running with the child +in my arms. I escaped—and—oh, the relief!” + +She sank back, half exhausted, half terrified still by the +recollection. + +“In your dream when Dr. Maudsley appeared,” asked Kennedy, evidently +interested in filling in the gap, “what did he do?” + +“Do?” she repeated. “In the dream? Nothing.” + +“Are you sure?” he asked, shooting a quick glance at her. + +“Yes. That part of the dream became indistinct. I’m sure he did +nothing, except shoulder through the crowd. I think he had just +entered. Then that part of the dream seemed to end and the second part +began.” + +Piece by piece Kennedy went over it, putting it together as if it were +a mosaic. + +“Now, the woman. You say her face was hidden?” + +She hesitated. “N—no. I saw it. But it was no one I knew.” + +Kennedy did not dwell on the contradiction, but added, “And the crowd?” + +“Strangers, too.” + +“Dr. Maudsley is your family physician?” he questioned. + +“Yes.” + +“Did he call—er—yesterday?” + +“He calls every day to supervise the nurse who has Junior in charge.” + +“Could one always be true to oneself in the face of any temptation?” he +asked suddenly. + +It was a bold question. Yet such had been the gradual manner of his +leading up to it that, before she knew it, she had answered quite +frankly, “Yes—if one always thought of home and her child, I cannot see +how one could help controlling herself.” + +She seemed to catch her breath, almost as though the words had escaped +her before she knew it. + +“Is there anything besides your dream that alarms you,” he asked, +changing the subject quickly, “any suspicion of—say the servants?” + +“No,” she said, watching him now. “But some time ago we caught a +burglar upstairs here. He managed to escape. That has made me nervous. +I didn’t think it was possible.” + +“Anything else?” + +“No,” she said positively, this time on her guard. + +Kennedy saw that she had made up her mind to say no more. + +“Mrs. Hazleton,” he said, rising. “I can hardly thank you too much for +the manner in which you have met my questions. It will make it much +easier for me to quiet your fears. And if anything else occurs to you, +you may rest assured I shall violate no confidences in your telling +me.” + +I could not help the feeling, however, that there was just a little air +of relief on her face as we left. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV +THE PSYCHANALYSIS + + +“H-m,” mused Kennedy as we walked along after leaving the house. “There +were several ‘complexes,’ as they are called, there—the most +interesting and important being the erotic, as usual. Now, take the +lion in the dream, with his mane. That, I suspect, was Dr. Maudsley. If +you are acquainted with him, you will recall his heavy, almost tawny +beard.” + +Kennedy seemed to be revolving something in his mind and I did not +interrupt. I had known him too long to feel that even a dream might not +have its value with him. Indeed, several times before he had given me +glimpses into the fascinating possibilities of the new psychology. + +“In spite of the work of thousands of years, little progress has been +made in the scientific understanding of dreams,” he remarked a few +moments later. “Freud, of Vienna—you recall the name?—has done most, I +think in that direction.” + +I recalled something of the theories of the Freudists, but said +nothing. + +“It is an unpleasant feature of his philosophy,” he went on, “but Freud +finds the conclusion irresistible that all humanity underneath the +shell is sensuous and sensual in nature. Practically all dreams betray +some delight of the senses and sexual dreams are a large proportion. +There is, according to the theory, always a wish hidden or expressed in +a dream. The dream is one of three things, the open, the disguised or +the distorted fulfillment of a wish, sometimes recognized, sometimes +repressed. + +“Anxiety dreams are among the most interesting and important Anxiety +may originate in psycho-sexual excitement, the repressed libido, as the +Freudists call it. Neurotic fear has its origin in sexual life and +corresponds to a libido which has been turned away from its object and +has not succeeded in being applied. All so-called day dreams of women +are erotic; of men they are either ambition or love. + +“Often dreams, apparently harmless, turn out to be sinister if we take +pains to interpret them. All have the mark of the beast. For example, +there was that unknown woman who had fallen down and was surrounded by +a crowd. If a woman dreams that, it is sexual. It can mean only a +fallen woman. That is the symbolism. The crowd always denotes a secret. + +“Take also the dream of death. If there is no sorrow felt, then there +is another cause for it. But if there is sorrow, then the dreamer +really desires death or absence. I expect to have you quarrel with +that. But read Freud, and remember that in childhood death is +synonymous with being away. Thus for example, if a girl dreams that her +mother is dead, perhaps it means only that she wishes her away so that +she can enjoy some pleasure that her strict parent, by her presence, +denies. + +“Then there was that dream about the baby in the water. That, I think, +was a dream of birth. You see, I asked her practically to repeat the +dreams because there were several gaps. At such points one usually +finds first hesitation, then something that shows one of the main +complexes. Perhaps the subject grows angry at the discovery. + +“Now, from the tangle of the dream thought, I find that she fears that +her husband is too intimate with another woman, and that perhaps +unconsciously she has turned to Dr. Maudsley for sympathy. Dr. +Maudsley, as I said, is not only bearded, but somewhat of a social +lion. He had called on her the day before. Of such stuff are all dream +lions when there is no fear. But she shows that she has been guilty of +no wrongdoing—she escaped, and felt relieved.” + +“I’m glad of that,” I put in. “I don’t like these scandals. On the +_Star_ when I have to report them, I do it always under protest. I +don’t know what your psychanalysis is going to show in the end, but I +for one have the greatest sympathy for that poor little woman in the +big house alone, surrounded by and dependent on servants, while her +husband is out collecting scandals.” + +“Which suggests our next step,” he said, turning the subject. “I hope +that Butler has found out the retreat of Veronica Haversham.” + +We discovered Miss Haversham at last at Dr. Klemm’s sanitarium, up in +the hills of Westchester County, a delightful place with a reputation +for its rest cures. Dr. Klemm was an old friend of Kennedy’s, having +had some connection with the medical school at the University. + +She had gone up there rather suddenly, it seemed, to recuperate. At +least that was what was given out, though there seemed to be much +mystery about her, and she was taking no treatment as far as was known. + +“Who is her physician?” asked Kennedy of Dr. Klemm as we sat in his +luxurious office. + +“A Dr. Maudsley of the city.” + +Kennedy glanced quickly at me in time to check an exclamation. + +“I wonder if I could see her?” + +“Why, of course—if she is willing,” replied Dr. Klemm. + +“I will have to have some excuse,” ruminated Kennedy. “Tell her I am a +specialist in nervous troubles from the city, have been visiting one of +the other patients, anything.” + +Dr. Klemm pulled down a switch on a large oblong oak box on his desk, +asked for Miss Haversham, and waited a moment. + +“What is that?” I asked. + +“A vocaphone,” replied Kennedy. “This sanitarium is quite up to date, +Klemm.” + +The doctor nodded and smiled. “Yes, Kennedy,” he replied. +“Communicating with every suite of rooms we have the vocaphone. I find +it very convenient to have these microphones, as I suppose you would +call them, catching your words without talking into them directly as +you have to do in the telephone and then at the other end emitting the +words without the use of an earpiece, from the box itself, as if from a +megaphone horn. Miss Haversham, this is Dr. Klemm. There is a Dr. +Kennedy here visiting another patient, a specialist from New York. He’d +like very much to see you if you can spare a few minutes.” + +“Tell him to come up.” The voice seemed to come from the vocaphone as +though she were in the room with us. + +Veronica Haversham was indeed wonderful, one of the leading figures in +the night life of New York, a statuesque brunette of striking beauty, +though I had heard of often ungovernable temper. Yet there was +something strange about her face here. It seemed perhaps a little +yellow, and I am sure that her nose had a peculiar look as if she were +suffering from an incipient rhinitis. The pupils of her eyes were as +fine as pin heads, her eyebrows were slightly elevated. Indeed, I felt +that she had made no mistake in taking a rest if she would preserve the +beauty which had made her popularity so meteoric. + +“Miss Haversham,” began Kennedy, “they tell me that you are suffering +from nervousness. Perhaps I can help you. At any rate it will do no +harm to try. I know Dr. Maudsley well, and if he doesn’t approve—well, +you may throw the treatment into the waste basket.” + +“I’m sure I have no reason to refuse,” she said. “What would you +suggest?” + +“Well, first of all, there is a very simple test I’d like to try. You +won’t find that it bothers you in the least—and if I can’t help you, +then no harm is done.” + +Again I watched Kennedy as he tactfully went through the preparations +for another kind of psychanalysis, placing Miss Haversham at her ease +on a davenport in such a way that nothing would distract her attention. +As she reclined against the leather pillows in the shadow it was not +difficult to understand the lure by which she held together the little +coterie of her intimates. One beautiful white arm, bare to the elbow, +hung carelessly over the edge of the davenport, displaying a plain gold +bracelet. + +“Now,” began Kennedy, on whom I knew the charms of Miss Haversham +produced a negative effect, although one would never have guessed it +from his manner, “as I read off from this list of words, I wish that +you would repeat the first thing, anything,” he emphasized, “that comes +into your head, no matter how trivial it may seem. Don’t force yourself +to think. Let your ideas flow naturally. It depends altogether on your +paying attention to the words and answering as quickly as you +can—remember, the first word that comes into your mind. It is easy to +do. We’ll call it a game,” he reassured. + +Kennedy handed a copy of the list to me to record the answers. There +must have been some fifty words, apparently senseless, chosen at +random, it seemed. They were: + +head to dance salt white lie +green sick new child to fear +water pride to pray sad stork +to sing ink money to marry false +death angry foolish dear anxiety +long needle despise to quarrel to kiss +ship voyage finger old bride +to pay to sin expensive family pure +window bread to fall friend ridicule +cold rich unjust luck to sleep + +“The Jung association word test is part of the Freud psychanalysis, +also,” he whispered to me, “You remember we tried something based on +the same idea once before?” + +I nodded. I had heard of the thing in connection with blood-pressure +tests, but not this way. + +Kennedy called out the first word, “Head,” while in his hand he held a +stop watch which registered to one-fifth of a second. + +Quickly she replied, “Ache,” with an involuntary movement of her hand +toward her beautiful forehead. + +“Good,” exclaimed Kennedy. “You seem to grasp the idea better than most +of my patients.” + +I had recorded the answer, he the time, and we found out, I recall +afterward, that the time averaged something like two and two-fifths +seconds. + +I thought her reply to the second word, “green,” was curious. It came +quickly, “Envy.” + +However, I shall not attempt to give all the replies, but merely some +of the most significant. There did not seem to be any hesitation about +most of the words, but whenever Kennedy tried to question her about a +word that seemed to him interesting she made either evasive or +hesitating answers, until it became evident that in the back of her +head was some idea which she was repressing and concealing from us, +something that she set off with a mental “No Thoroughfare.” + +He had finished going through the list, and Kennedy was now studying +over the answers and comparing the time records. + +“Now,” he said at length, running his eye over the words again, “I want +to repeat the performance. Try to remember and duplicate your first +replies,” he said. + +Again we went through what at first had seemed to me to be a solemn +farce, but which I began to see was quite important. Sometimes she +would repeat the answer exactly as before. At other times a new word +would occur to her. Kennedy was keen to note all the differences in the +two lists. + +One which I recall because the incident made an impression on me had to +do with the trio, “Death—life—inevitable.” + +“Why that?” he asked casually. + +“Haven’t you ever heard the saying, ‘One should let nothing which one +can have escape, even if a little wrong is done; no opportunity should +be missed; life is so short, death inevitable’?” + +There were several others which to Kennedy seemed more important, but +long after we had finished I pondered this answer. Was that her +philosophy of life? Undoubtedly she would never have remembered the +phrase if it had not been so, at least in a measure. + +She had begun to show signs of weariness, and Kennedy quickly brought +the conversation around to subjects of apparently a general nature, but +skillfully contrived so as to lead the way along lines her answers had +indicated. + +Kennedy had risen to go, still chatting. Almost unintentionally he +picked up from a dressing table a bottle of white tablets, without a +label, shaking it to emphasize an entirely, and I believe purposely, +irrelevant remark. + +“By the way,” he said, breaking off naturally, “what is that?” + +“Only something Dr. Maudsley had prescribed for me,” she answered +quickly. + +As he replaced the bottle and went on with the thread of the +conversation, I saw that in shaking the bottle he had abstracted a +couple of the tablets before she realized it. “I can’t tell you just +what to do without thinking the case over,” he concluded, rising to go. +“Yours is a peculiar case, Miss Haversham, baffling. I’ll have to study +it over, perhaps ask Dr. Maudsley If I may see you again. Meanwhile, I +am sure what he is doing is the correct thing.” + +Inasmuch as she had said nothing about what Dr. Maudsley was doing, I +wondered whether there was not just a trace of suspicion in her glance +at him from under her long dark lashes. + +“I can’t see that you have done anything,” she remarked pointedly. “But +then doctors are queer—queer.” + +That parting shot also had in it, for me, something to ponder over. In +fact I began to wonder if she might not be a great deal more clever +than even Kennedy gave her credit for being, whether she might not have +submitted to his tests for pure love of pulling the wool over his eyes. + +Downstairs again, Kennedy paused only long enough to speak a few words +with his friend Dr. Klemm. + +“I suppose you have no idea what Dr. Maudsley has prescribed for her?” +he asked carelessly. + +“Nothing, as far as I know, except rest and simple food.” + +He seemed to hesitate, then he said under his voice, “I suppose you +know that she is a regular dope fiend, seasons her cigarettes with +opium, and all that.” + +“I guessed as much,” remarked Kennedy, “but how does she get it here?” + +“She doesn’t.” + +“I see,” remarked Craig, apparently weighing now the man before him. At +length he seemed to decide to risk something. + +“Klemm,” he said, “I wish you would do something for me. I see you have +the vocaphone here. Now if—say Hazleton—should call—will you listen in +on that vocaphone for me?” Dr. Klemm looked squarely at him. + +“Kennedy,” he said, “it’s unprofessional, but—-” + +“So it is to let her be doped up under guise of a cure.” + +“What?” he asked, startled. “She’s getting the stuff now?” + +“No, I didn’t say she was getting opium, or from anyone here. All the +same, if you would just keep an ear open—-” + +“It’s unprofessional, but—you’d not ask it without a good reason. I’ll +try.” + +It was very late when we got back to the city and we dined at an uptown +restaurant which we had almost to ourselves. + +Kennedy had placed the little whitish tablets in a small paper packet +for safe keeping. As we waited for our order he drew one from his +pocket, and after looking at it a moment crushed it to a powder in the +paper. + +“What is it?” I asked curiously. “Cocaine?” + +“No,” he said, shaking his head doubtfully. + +He had tried to dissolve a little of the powder in some water from the +glass before him, but it would not dissolve. + +As he continued to look at it his eye fell on the cut-glass vinegar +cruet before us. It was full of the white vinegar. + +“Really acetic acid,” he remarked, pouring out a little. + +The white powder dissolved. + +For several minutes he continued looking at the stuff. + +“That, I think,” he remarked finally, “is heroin.” + +“More ‘happy dust’?” I replied with added interest now, thinking of our +previous case. “Is the habit so extensive?” + +“Yes,” he replied, “the habit is comparatively new, although in Paris, +I believe, they call the drug fiends, ‘heroinomaniacs.’ It is, as I +told you before, a derivative of morphine. Its scientific name is +diacetyl-morphin. It is New York’s newest peril, one of the most +dangerous drugs yet. Thousands are slaves to it, although its sale is +supposedly restricted. It is rotting the heart out of the Tenderloin. +Did you notice Veronica Haversham’s yellowish whiteness, her down-drawn +mouth, elevated eyebrows, and contracted eyes? She may have taken it up +to escape other drugs. Some people have—and have just got a new habit. +It can be taken hypodermically, or in a tablet, or by powdering the +tablet to a white crystalline powder and snuffing up the nose. That’s +the way she takes it. It produces rhinitis of the nasal passages, which +I see you observed, but did not understand. It has a more profound +effect than morphine, and is ten times as powerful as codeine. And one +of the worst features is that so many people start with it, thinking it +is as harmless as it has been advertised. I wouldn’t be surprised if +she used from seventy-five to a hundred one-twelfth grain tablets a +day. Some of them do, you know.” + +“And Dr. Maudsley,” I asked quickly, “do you think it is through him or +in spite of him?” + +“That’s what I’d like to know. About those words,” he continued, “what +did you make of the list and the answers?” + +I had made nothing and said so, rather quickly. + +“Those,” he explained, “were words selected and arranged to strike +almost all the common complexes in analyzing and diagnosing. You’d +think any intelligent person could give a fluent answer to them, +perhaps a misleading answer. But try it yourself, Walter. You’ll find +you can’t. You may start all right, but not all the words will be +reacted to in the same time or with the same smoothness and ease. Yet, +like the expressions of a dream, they often seem senseless. But they +have a meaning as soon as they are ‘psychanalyzed.’ All the mistakes in +answering the second time, for example, have a reason, if we can only +get at it. They are not arbitrary answers, but betray the inmost +subconscious thoughts, those things marked, split off from +consciousness and repressed into the unconscious. Associations, like +dreams, never lie. You may try to conceal the emotions and unconscious +actions, but you can’t.” + +I listened, fascinated by Kennedy’s explanation. + +“Anyone can see that that woman has something on her mind besides the +heroin habit. It may be that she is trying to shake the habit off in +order to do it; it may be that she seeks relief from her thoughts by +refuge in the habit; and it may be that some one has purposely caused +her to contract this new habit in the guise of throwing off an old. The +only way by which to find out is to study the case.” + +He paused. He had me keenly on edge, but I knew that he was not yet in +a position to answer his queries positively. + +“Now I found,” he went on, “that the religious complexes were extremely +few; as I expected the erotic were many. If you will look over the +three lists you will find something queer about every such word as, +‘child, ‘to marry,’ ‘bride,’ ‘to lie,’ ‘stork,’ and so on. We’re on the +right track. That woman does know something about that child.” + +“My eye catches the words ‘to sin,’ ‘to fall,’ ‘pure,’ and others,” I +remarked, glancing over the list. + +“Yes, there’s something there, too. I got the hint for the drug from +her hesitation over ‘needle’ and ‘white.’ But the main complex has to +do with words relating to that child and to love. In short, I think we +are going to find it to be the reverse of the rule of the French, that +it will be a case of ‘cherchez l’homme.’” + +Early the next day Kennedy, after a night of studying over the case, +journeyed up to the sanitarium again. We found Dr. Klemm eager to meet +us. + +“What is it?” asked Kennedy, equally eager. + +“I overheard some surprising things over the vocaphone,” he hastened. +“Hazleton called. Why, there must have been some wild orgies in that +precious set of theirs, and, would you believe it, many of them seem to +have been at what Dr. Maudsley calls his ‘stable studio,’ a den he has +fixed up artistically over his garage on a side street.” + +“Indeed?” + +“I couldn’t get it all, but I did hear her repeating over and over to +Hazleton, ‘Aren’t you all mine? Aren’t you all mine?’ There must be +some vague jealousy lurking in the heart of that ardent woman. I can’t +figure it out.” + +“I’d like to see her again,” remarked Kennedy. “Will you ask her if I +may?” + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI +THE ENDS OF JUSTICE + + +A few minutes later we were in the sitting room of her suite. She +received us rather ungraciously, I thought. + +“Do you feel any better?” asked Kennedy. + +“No,” she replied curtly. “Excuse me for a moment. I wish to see that +maid of mine. Clarisse!” + +She had hardly left the room when Kennedy was on his feet. The bottle +of white tablets, nearly empty, was still on the table. I saw him take +some very fine white powder and dust it quickly over the bottle. It +seemed to adhere, and from his pocket he quickly drew a piece of what +seemed to be specially prepared paper, laid it over the bottle where +the powder adhered, fitting it over the curves. He withdrew it quickly, +for outside we heard her light step, returning. I am sure she either +saw or suspected that Kennedy had been touching the bottle of tablets, +for there was a look of startled fear on her face. + +“Then you do not feel like continuing the tests we abandoned last +night?” asked Kennedy, apparently not noticing her look. + +“No, I do not,” she almost snapped. “You—you are detectives. Mrs. +Hazleton has sent you.” + +“Indeed, Mrs. Hazleton has not sent us,” insisted Kennedy, never for an +instant showing his surprise at her mention of the name. + +“You are. You can tell her, you can tell everybody. I’ll tell—I’ll tell +myself. I won’t wait. That child is mine—mine—not hers. Now—go!” + +Veronica Haversham on the stage never towered in a fit of passion as +she did now in real life, as her ungovernable feelings broke forth +tempestuously on us. + +I was astounded, bewildered at the revelation, the possibilities in +those simple words, “The child is mine.” For a moment I was stunned. +Then as the full meaning dawned on me I wondered in a flood of +consciousness whether it was true. Was it the product of her +drug-disordered brain? Had her desperate love for Hazleton produced a +hallucination? + +Kennedy, silent, saw that the case demanded quick action. I shall never +forget the breathless ride down from the sanitarium to the Hazleton +house on Riverside Drive. + +“Mrs. Hazleton,” he cried, as we hurried in, “you will pardon me for +this unceremonious intrusion, but it is most important. May I trouble +you to place your fingers on this paper—so?” + +He held out to her a piece of the prepared paper. She looked at him +once, then saw from his face that he was not to be questioned. Almost +tremulously she did as he said, saying not a word. I wondered whether +she knew the story of Veronica, or whether so far only hints of it had +been brought to her. + +“Thank you,” he said quickly. “Now, if I may see Morton?” + +It was the first time we had seen the baby about whom the rapidly +thickening events were crowding. He was a perfect specimen of +well-cared-for, scientific infant. + +Kennedy took the little chubby fingers playfully in his own. He seemed +at once to win the child’s confidence, though he may have violated +scientific rules. One by one he pressed the little fingers on the +paper, until little Morton crowed with delight as one little piggy +after another “went to market.” He had deserted thousands of dollars’ +worth of toys just to play with the simple piece of paper Kennedy had +brought with him. As I looked at him, I thought of what Kennedy had +said at the start. Perhaps this innocent child was not to be envied +after all. I could hardly restrain my excitement over the astounding +situation which had suddenly developed. + +“That will do,” announced Kennedy finally, carelessly folding up the +paper and slipping it into his pocket. “You must excuse me now.” + +“You see,” he explained on the way to the laboratory, “that powder +adheres to fresh finger prints, taking all the gradations. Then the +paper with its paraffine and glycerine coating takes off the powder.” + +In the laboratory he buried himself in work, with microscope compasses, +calipers, while I fumed impotently at the window. + +“Walter,” he called suddenly, “get Dr. Maudsley on the telephone. Tell +him to come immediately to the laboratory.” + +Meanwhile Kennedy was busy arranging what he had discovered in logical +order and putting on it the finishing touches. + +As Dr. Maudsley entered Kennedy greeted him and began by plunging +directly into the case in answer to his rather discourteous inquiry as +to why he had been so hastily summoned. + +“Dr. Maudsley,” said Craig, “I have asked you to call alone because, +while I am on the verge of discovering the truth in an important case +affecting Morton Hazleton and his wife, I am frankly perplexed as to +how to go ahead.” + +The doctor seemed to shake with excitement as Kennedy proceeded. + +“Dr. Maudsley,” Craig added, dropping his voice, “is Morton III the son +of Millicent Hazleton or not? You were the physician in attendance on +her at the birth. Is he?” + +Maudsley had been watching Kennedy furtively at first, but as he rapped +out the words I thought the doctor’s eyes would pop out of his head. +Perspiration in great beads collected on his face. + +“P—professor K—Kennedy,” he muttered, frantically rubbing his face and +lower jaw as if to compose the agitation he could so ill conceal, “let +me explain.” + +“Yes, yes—go on,” urged Kennedy. + +“Mrs. Hazleton’s baby was born—dead. I knew how much she and the rest +of the family had longed for an heir, how much it meant. And +I—substituted for the dead child a newborn baby from the maternity +hospital. It—it belonged to Veronica Haversham—then a poor chorus girl. +I did not intend that she should ever know it. I intended that she +should think her baby was dead. But in some way she found out. Since +then she has become a famous beauty, has numbered among her friends +even Hazleton himself. For nearly two years I have tried to keep her +from divulging the secret. From time to time hints of it have leaked +out. I knew that if Hazleton with his infatuation of her were to +learn—-” + +“And Mrs. Hazleton, has she been told?” interrupted Kennedy. + +“I have been trying to keep it from her as long as I can, but it has +been difficult to keep Veronica from telling it. Hazleton himself was +so wild over her. And she wanted her son as she—-” + +“Maudsley,” snapped out Kennedy, slapping down on the table the mass of +prints and charts which he had hurriedly collected and was studying, +“you lie! Morton is Millicent Hazleton’s son. The whole story is +blackmail. I knew it when she told me of her dreams and I suspected +first some such devilish scheme as yours. Now I know it +scientifically.” + +He turned over the prints. + +“I suppose that study of these prints, Maudsley, will convey nothing to +you. I know that it is usually stated that there are no two sets of +finger prints in the world that are identical or that can be confused. +Still, there are certain similarities of finger prints and other +characteristics, and these similarities have recently been exhaustively +studied by Bertilion, who has found that there are clear relationships +sometimes between mother and child in these respects. If Solomon were +alive, doctor, he would not now have to resort to the expedient to +which he did when the two women disputed over the right to the living +child. Modern science is now deciding by exact laboratory methods the +same problem as he solved by his unique knowledge of feminine +psychology. + +“I saw how this case was tending. Not a moment too soon, I said to +myself, ‘The hand of the child will tell.’ By the very variations in +unlike things, such as finger and palm prints, as tabulated and +arranged by Bertillon after study in thousands of cases, by the very +loops, whorls, arches and composites, I have proved my case. + +“The dominancy, not the identity, of heredity through the infinite +varieties of finger markings is sometimes very striking. Unique +patterns in a parent have been repeated with marvelous accuracy in the +child. I knew that negative results might prove nothing in regard to +parentage, a caution which it is important to observe. But I was +prepared to meet even that. + +“I would have gone on into other studies, such as Tammasia’s, of +heredity in the veining of the back of the hands; I would have measured +the hands, compared the relative proportion of the parts; I would have +studied them under the X-ray as they are being studied to-day; I would +have tried the Reichert blood crystal test which is being perfected now +so that it will tell heredity itself. There is no scientific stone I +would have left unturned until I had delved at the truth of this +riddle. Fortunately it was not necessary. Simple finger prints have +told me enough. And best of all, it has been in time to frustrate that +devilish scheme you and Veronica Haversham have been slowly unfolding.” + +Maudsley crumpled up, as it were, at Kennedy’s denunciation. He seemed +to shrink toward the door. + +“Yes,” cried Kennedy, with extended forefinger, “you may go—for the +present. Don’t try to run away. You’re watched from this moment on.” + +Maudsley had retreated precipitately. + +I looked at Kennedy inquiringly. What to do? It was indeed a delicate +situation, requiring the utmost care to handle. If the story had been +told to Hazleton, what might he not have already done? He must be found +first of all if we were to meet the conspiracy of these two. + +Kennedy reached quickly for the telephone. “There is one stream of +scandal that can be dammed at its source,” he remarked, calling a +number. “Hello. Klemm’s Sanitarium? I’d like to speak with Miss +Haversham. What—gone? Disappeared? Escaped?” + +He hung up the receiver and looked at me blankly. I was speechless. + +A thousand ideas flew through our minds at once. Had she perceived the +import of our last visit and was she now on her way to complete her +plotted slander of Millicent Hazleton, though it pulled down on herself +in the end the whole structure? + +Hastily Kennedy called Hazleton’s home, Butler, and one after another +of Hazleton’s favorite clubs. It was not until noon that Butler himself +found him and came with him, under protest, to the laboratory. + +“What is it—what have you found?” cried Butler, his lean form a-quiver +with suppressed excitement. + +Briefly, one fact after another, sparing Hazleton nothing, Kennedy +poured forth the story, how by hint and innuendo Maudsley had been +working on Millicent, undermining her, little knowing that he had +attacked in her a very tower of strength, how Veronica, infatuated by +him, had infatuated him, had led him on step by step. + +Pale and agitated, with nerves unstrung by the life he had been +leading, Hazleton listened. And as Kennedy hammered one fact after +another home, he clenched his fists until the nails dug into his very +palms. + +“The scoundrels,” he ground out, as Kennedy finished by painting the +picture of the brave little broken-hearted woman fighting off she knew +not what, and the golden-haired, innocent baby stretching out his arms +in glee at the very chance to prove that he was what he was. “The +scoundrels—take me to Maudsley now. I must see Maudsley. Quick!” + +As we pulled up before the door of the reconstructed stable-studio, +Kennedy jumped out. The door was unlocked. Up the broad flight of +stairs, Hazleton went two at a time. We followed him closely. + +Lying on the divan in the room that had been the scene of so many +orgies, locked in each other’s arms, were two figures—Veronica +Haversham and Dr. Maudsley. + +She must have gone there directly after our visit to Dr. Klemm’s, must +have been waiting for him when he returned with his story of the +exposure to answer her fears of us as Mrs. Hazleton’s detectives. In a +frenzy of intoxication she must have flung her arms blindly about him +in a last wild embrace. + +Hazleton looked, aghast. + +He leaned over and took her arm. Before he could frame the name, +“Veronica!” he had recoiled. + +The two were cold and rigid. + +“An overdose of heroin this time,” muttered Kennedy. + +My head was in a whirl. + +Hazleton stared blankly at the two figures abjectly lying before him, +as the truth burned itself indelibly into his soul. He covered his face +with his hands. And still he saw it all. + +Craig said nothing. He was content to let what he had shown work in the +man’s mind. + +“For the sake of—that baby—would she—would she forgive?” asked +Hazleton, turning desperately toward Kennedy. + +Deliberately Kennedy faced him, not as scientist and millionaire, but +as man and man. + +“From my psychanalysis,” he said slowly, “I should say that it IS +within your power, in time, to change those dreams.” + +Hazleton grasped Kennedy’s hand before he knew it. + +“Kennedy—home—quick. This is the first manful impulse I have had for +two years. And, Jameson—you’ll tone down that part of it in the +newspapers that Junior—might read—when he grows up?” + +THE END + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WAR TERROR *** + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the +United States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, +and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following +the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use +of the Project Gutenberg trademark. 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Reeve</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online +at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The War Terror</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Arthur B. Reeve</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: February 1, 2004 [eBook #5073]<br /> +[Most recently updated: October 2, 2022]</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team</div> +<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WAR TERROR ***</div> + +<div class="fig" style="width:55%;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<h4>THE CRAIG KENNEDY SERIES</h4> + +<h1>The War Terror</h1> + +<h2 class="no-break">by Arthur B. Reeve</h2> + +<hr /> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2>Contents</h2> + +<table summary="" style=""> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap00">INTRODUCTION</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap01">CHAPTER I. THE WAR TERROR</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap02">CHAPTER II. THE ELECTRO-MAGNETIC GUN</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap03">CHAPTER III. THE MURDER SYNDICATE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap04">CHAPTER IV. THE AIR PIRATE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap05">CHAPTER V. THE ULTRA-VIOLET RAY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap06">CHAPTER VI. THE TRIPLE MIRROR</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap07">CHAPTER VII. THE WIRELESS WIRETAPPERS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap08">CHAPTER VIII. THE HOUSEBOAT MYSTERY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap09">CHAPTER IX. THE RADIO DETECTIVE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap10">CHAPTER X. THE CURIO SHOP</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap11">CHAPTER XI. THE “PILLAR OF DEATH”</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap12">CHAPTER XII. THE ARROW POISON</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap13">CHAPTER XIII. THE RADIUM ROBBER</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap14">CHAPTER XIV. THE SPINTHARISCOPE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap15">CHAPTER XV. THE ASPHYXIATING SAFE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap16">CHAPTER XVI. THE DEAD LINE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap17">CHAPTER XVII. THE PASTE REPLICA</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap18">CHAPTER XVIII. THE BURGLAR’S MICROPHONE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap19">CHAPTER XIX. THE GERM LETTER</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap20">CHAPTER XX. THE ARTIFICIAL KIDNEY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap21">CHAPTER XXI. THE POISON BRACELET</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap22">CHAPTER XXII. THE DEVIL WORSHIPERS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap23">CHAPTER XXIII. THE PSYCHIC CURSE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap24">CHAPTER XXIV. THE SERPENT’S TOOTH</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap25">CHAPTER XXV. THE “HAPPY DUST”</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap26">CHAPTER XXVI. THE BINET TEST</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap27">CHAPTER XXVII. THE LIE DETECTOR</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap28">CHAPTER XXVIII. THE FAMILY SKELETON</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap29">CHAPTER XXIX. THE LEAD POISONER</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap30">CHAPTER XXX. THE ELECTROLYTIC MURDER</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap31">CHAPTER XXXI. THE EUGENIC BRIDE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap32">CHAPTER XXXII. THE GERM PLASM</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap33">CHAPTER XXXIII. THE SEX CONTROL</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap34">CHAPTER XXXIV. THE BILLIONAIRE BABY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap35">CHAPTER XXXV. THE PSYCHANALYSIS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap36">CHAPTER XXXVI. THE ENDS OF JUSTICE</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap00"></a>INTRODUCTION</h2> + +<p> +As I look back now on the sensational events of the past months since the great +European War began, it seems to me as if there had never been a period in Craig +Kennedy’s life more replete with thrilling adventures than this. +</p> + +<p> +In fact, scarcely had one mysterious event been straightened out from the +tangled skein, when another, even more baffling, crowded on its very heels. +</p> + +<p> +As was to have been expected with us in America, not all of these remarkable +experiences grew either directly or indirectly out of the war, but there were +several that did, and they proved to be only the beginning of a succession of +events which kept me busy chronicling for the <i>Star</i> the exploits of my +capable and versatile friend. +</p> + +<p> +Altogether, this period of the war was, I am sure, quite the most exciting of +the many series of episodes through which Craig has been called upon to go. Yet +he seemed to meet each situation as it arose with a fresh mind, which was +amazing even to me who have known him so long and so intimately. +</p> + +<p> +As was naturally to be supposed, also, at such a time, it was not long before +Craig found himself entangled in the marvelous spy system of the warring +European nations. These systems revealed their devious and dark ways, ramifying +as they did tentacle-like even across the ocean in their efforts to gain their +ends in neutral America. Not only so, but, as I shall some day endeavor to show +later, when the ban of silence imposed by neutrality is raised after the war, +many of the horrors of the war were brought home intimately to us. +</p> + +<p> +I have, after mature consideration, decided that even at present nothing but +good can come from the publication at least of some part of the strange series +of adventures through which Kennedy and I have just gone, especially those +which might, if we had not succeeded, have caused most important changes in +current history. As for the other adventures, no question can be raised about +the propriety of their publication. +</p> + +<p> +At any rate, it came about that early in August, when the war cloud was just +beginning to loom blackest, Kennedy was unexpectedly called into one of the +strangest, most dangerous situations in which his peculiar and perilous +profession had ever involved him. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap01"></a>CHAPTER I<br/> +THE WAR TERROR</h2> + +<p> +“I must see Professor Kennedy—where is he?—I must see him, for God’s sake!” +</p> + +<p> +I was almost carried off my feet by the inrush of a wild-eyed girl, seemingly +half crazed with excitement, as she cried out Craig’s name. +</p> + +<p> +Startled by my own involuntary exclamation of surprise which followed the +vision that shot past me as I opened our door in response to a sudden, sharp +series of pushes at the buzzer, Kennedy bounded swiftly toward me, and the girl +almost flung herself upon him. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, Miss—er—Miss—my dear young lady—what’s the matter?” he stammered, +catching her by the arm gently. +</p> + +<p> +As Kennedy forced our strange visitor into a chair, I observed that she was all +a-tremble. Her teeth fairly chattered. Alternately her nervous, peaceless hands +clutched at an imaginary something in the air, as if for support, then, finding +none, she would let her wrists fall supine, while she gazed about with +quivering lips and wild, restless eyes. Plainly, there was something she +feared. She was almost over the verge of hysteria. +</p> + +<p> +She was a striking girl, of medium height and slender form, but it was her face +that fascinated me, with its delicately molded features, intense unfathomable +eyes of dark brown, and lips that showed her idealistic, high-strung +temperament. +</p> + +<p> +“Please,” he soothed, “get yourself together, please—try! What is the matter?” +</p> + +<p> +She looked about, as if she feared that the very walls had eyes and ears. Yet +there seemed to be something bursting from her lips that she could not +restrain. +</p> + +<p> +“My life,” she cried wildly, “my life is at stake. Oh—help me, help me! Unless +I commit a murder to-night, I shall be killed myself!” +</p> + +<p> +The words sounded so doubly strange from a girl of her evident refinement that +I watched her narrowly, not sure yet but that we had a plain case of insanity +to deal with. +</p> + +<p> +“A murder?” repeated Kennedy incredulously. “<i>You</i> commit a murder?” +</p> + +<p> +Her eyes rested on him, as if fascinated, but she did not flinch as she replied +desperately, “Yes—Baron Kreiger—you know, the German diplomat and financier, +who is in America raising money and arousing sympathy with his country.” +</p> + +<p> +“Baron Kreiger!” exclaimed Kennedy in surprise, looking at her more keenly. +</p> + +<p> +We had not met the Baron, but we had heard much about him, young, handsome, of +an old family, trusted already in spite of his youth by many of the more +advanced of old world financial and political leaders, one who had made a most +favorable impression on democratic America at a time when such impressions were +valuable. +</p> + +<p> +Glancing from one of us to the other, she seemed suddenly, with a great effort, +to recollect herself, for she reached into her chatelaine and pulled out a card +from a case. +</p> + +<p> +It read simply, “Miss Paula Lowe.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” she replied, more calmly now to Kennedy’s repetition of the Baron’s +name, “you see, I belong to a secret group.” She appeared to hesitate, then +suddenly added, “I am an anarchist.” +</p> + +<p> +She watched the effect of her confession and, finding the look on Kennedy’s +face encouraging rather than shocked, went on breathlessly: “We are fighting +war with war—this iron-bound organization of men and women. We have pledged +ourselves to exterminate all kings, emperors and rulers, ministers of war, +generals—but first of all the financiers who lend money that makes war +possible.” +</p> + +<p> +She paused, her eyes gleaming momentarily with something like the militant +enthusiasm that must have enlisted her in the paradoxical war against war. +</p> + +<p> +“We are at least going to make another war impossible!” she exclaimed, for the +moment evidently forgetting herself. +</p> + +<p> +“And your plan?” prompted Kennedy, in the most matter-of-fact manner, as though +he were discussing an ordinary campaign for social betterment. “How were you +to—reach the Baron?” +</p> + +<p> +“We had a drawing,” she answered with amazing calmness, as if the mere telling +relieved her pent-up feelings. “Another woman and I were chosen. We knew the +Baron’s weakness for a pretty face. We planned to become acquainted with +him—lure him on.” +</p> + +<p> +Her voice trailed off, as if, the first burst of confidence over, she felt +something that would lock her secret tighter in her breast. +</p> + +<p> +A moment later she resumed, now talking rapidly, disconnectedly, giving Kennedy +no chance to interrupt or guide the conversation. +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t know, Professor Kennedy,” she began again, “but there are similar +groups to ours in European countries and the plan is to strike terror and +consternation everywhere in the world at once. Why, at our headquarters there +have been drawn up plans and agreements with other groups and there are set +down the time, place, and manner of all the—the removals.” +</p> + +<p> +Momentarily she seemed to be carried away by something like the fanaticism of +the fervor which had at first captured her, even still held her as she recited +her incredible story. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, can’t you understand?” she went on, as if to justify herself. “The +increase in armies, the frightful implements of slaughter, the total failure of +the peace propaganda—they have all defied civilization! +</p> + +<p> +“And then, too, the old, red-blooded emotions of battle have all been +eliminated by the mechanical conditions of modern warfare in which men and +women are just so many units, automata. Don’t you see? To fight war with its +own weapons—that has become the only last resort.” +</p> + +<p> +Her eager, flushed face betrayed the enthusiasm which had once carried her into +the “Group,” as she called it. I wondered what had brought her now to us. +</p> + +<p> +“We are no longer making war against man,” she cried. “We are making war +against picric acid and electric wires!” +</p> + +<p> +I confess that I could not help thinking that there was no doubt that to a +certain type of mind the reasoning might appeal most strongly. +</p> + +<p> +“And you would do it in war time, too?” asked Kennedy quickly. +</p> + +<p> +She was ready with an answer. “King George of Greece was killed at the head of +his troops. Remember Nazim Pasha, too. Such people are easily reached in time +of peace and in time of war, also, by sympathizers on their own side. That’s +it, you see—we have followers of all nationalities.” +</p> + +<p> +She stopped, her burst of enthusiasm spent. A moment later she leaned forward, +her clean-cut profile showing her more earnest than before. “But, oh, Professor +Kennedy,” she added, “it is working itself out to be more terrible than war +itself!” +</p> + +<p> +“Have any of the plans been carried out yet?” asked Craig, I thought a little +superciliously, for there had certainly been no such wholesale assassination +yet as she had hinted at. +</p> + +<p> +She seemed to catch her breath. “Yes,” she murmured, then checked herself as if +in fear of saying too much. “That is, I—I think so.” +</p> + +<p> +I wondered if she were concealing something, perhaps had already had a hand in +some such enterprise and it had frightened her. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy leaned forward, observing the girl’s discomfiture. “Miss Lowe,” he +said, catching her eye and holding it almost hypnotically, “why have you come +to see me?” +</p> + +<p> +The question, pointblank, seemed to startle her. Evidently she had thought to +tell only as little as necessary, and in her own way. She gave a little nervous +laugh, as if to pass it off. But Kennedy’s eyes conquered. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, can’t you understand yet?” she exclaimed, rising passionately and throwing +out her arms in appeal. “I was carried away with my hatred of war. I hate it +yet. But now—the sudden realization of what this compact all means has—well, +caused something in me to—to snap. I don’t care what oath I have taken. Oh, +Professor Kennedy, you—you must save him!” +</p> + +<p> +I looked up at her quickly. What did she mean? At first she had come to be +saved herself. “You must save him!” she implored. +</p> + +<p> +Our door buzzer sounded. +</p> + +<p> +She gazed about with a hunted look, as if she felt that some one had even now +pursued her and found out. +</p> + +<p> +“What shall I do?” she whispered. “Where shall I go?” +</p> + +<p> +“Quick—in here. No one will know,” urged Kennedy, opening the door to his room. +He paused for an instant, hurriedly. “Tell me—have you and this other woman met +the Baron yet? How far has it gone?” +</p> + +<p> +The look she gave him was peculiar. I could not fathom what was going on in her +mind. But there was no hesitation about her answer. “Yes,” she replied, “I—we +have met him. He is to come back to New York from Washington to-day—this +afternoon—to arrange a private loan of five million dollars with some bankers +secretly. We were to see him to-night—a quiet dinner, after an automobile ride +up the Hudson—” +</p> + +<p> +“Both of you?” interrupted Craig. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—that—that other woman and myself,” she repeated, with a peculiar catch in +her voice. “To-night was the time fixed in the drawing for the—” +</p> + +<p> +The word stuck in her throat. Kennedy understood. “Yes, yes,” he encouraged, +“but who is the other woman?” +</p> + +<p> +Before she could reply, the buzzer had sounded again and she had retreated from +the door. Quickly Kennedy closed it and opened the outside door. +</p> + +<p> +It was our old friend Burke of the Secret Service. +</p> + +<p> +Without a word of greeting, a hasty glance seemed to assure him that Kennedy +and I were alone. He closed the door himself, and, instead of sitting down, +came close to Craig. +</p> + +<p> +“Kennedy,” he blurted out in a tone of suppressed excitement, “can I trust you +to keep a big secret?” +</p> + +<p> +Craig looked at him reproachfully, but said nothing. +</p> + +<p> +“I beg your pardon—a thousand times,” hastened Burke. “I was so excited, I +wasn’t thinking—” +</p> + +<p> +“Once is enough, Burke,” laughed Kennedy, his good nature restored at Burke’s +crestfallen appearance. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you see,” went on the Secret Service man, “this thing is so very +important that—well, I forgot.” +</p> + +<p> +He sat down and hitched his chair close to us, as he went on in a lowered, +almost awestruck tone. +</p> + +<p> +“Kennedy,” he whispered, “I’m on the trail, I think, of something growing out +of these terrible conditions in Europe that will tax the best in the Secret +Service. Think of it, man. There’s an organization, right here in this city, a +sort of assassin’s club, as it were, aimed at all the powerful men the world +over. Why, the most refined and intellectual reformers have joined with the +most red-handed anarchists and—” +</p> + +<p> +“Sh! not so loud,” cautioned Craig. “I think I have one of them in the next +room. Have they done anything yet to the Baron?” +</p> + +<p> +It was Burke’s turn now to look from one to the other of us in unfeigned +surprise that we should already know something of his secret. +</p> + +<p> +“The Baron?” he repeated, lowering his voice. “What Baron?” +</p> + +<p> +It was evident that Burke knew nothing, at least of this new plot which Miss +Lowe had indicated. Kennedy beckoned him over to the window furthest from the +door to his own room. +</p> + +<p> +“What have you discovered?” he asked, forestalling Burke in the questioning. +“What has happened?” +</p> + +<p> +“You haven’t heard, then?” replied Burke. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy nodded negatively. +</p> + +<p> +“Fortescue, the American inventor of fortescite, the new explosive, died very +strangely this morning.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” encouraged Kennedy, as Burke came to a full stop to observe the effect +of the information. +</p> + +<p> +“Most incomprehensible, too,” he pursued. “No cause, apparently. But it might +have been overlooked, perhaps, except for one thing. It wasn’t known generally, +but Fortescue had just perfected a successful electro-magnetic gun—powderless, +smokeless, flashless, noiseless and of tremendous power. To-morrow he was to +have signed the contract to sell it to England. This morning he is found dead +and the final plans of the gun are gone!” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy and Burke were standing mutely looking at each other. +</p> + +<p> +“Who is in the next room?” whispered Burke hoarsely, recollecting Kennedy’s +caution of silence. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy did not reply immediately. He was evidently much excited by Burke’s +news of the wonderful electro-magnetic gun. +</p> + +<p> +“Burke,” he exclaimed suddenly, “let’s join forces. I think we are both on the +trail of a world-wide conspiracy—a sort of murder syndicate to wipe out war!” +</p> + +<p> +Burke’s only reply was a low whistle that involuntarily escaped him as he +reached over and grasped Craig’s hand, which to him represented the sealing of +the compact. +</p> + +<p> +As for me, I could not restrain a mental shudder at the power that their first +murder had evidently placed in the hands of the anarchists, if they indeed had +the electro-magnetic gun which inventors had been seeking for generations. What +might they not do with it—perhaps even use it themselves and turn the latest +invention against society itself! +</p> + +<p> +Hastily Craig gave a whispered account of our strange visit from Miss Lowe, +while Burke listened, open-mouthed. +</p> + +<p> +He had scarcely finished when he reached for the telephone and asked for long +distance. +</p> + +<p> +“Is this the German embassy in Washington?” asked Craig a few moments later +when he got his number. “This is Craig Kennedy, in New York. The United States +Secret Service will vouch for me—mention to them Mr. Burke of their New York +office who is here with me now. I understand that Baron Kreiger is leaving for +New York to meet some bankers this afternoon. He must not do so. He is in the +gravest danger if he—What? He left last night at midnight and is already here?” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy turned to us blankly. +</p> + +<p> +The door to his room opened suddenly. +</p> + +<p> +There stood Miss Lowe, gazing wild-eyed at us. Evidently her supernervous +condition had heightened the keenness of her senses. She had heard what we were +saying. I tried to read her face. It was not fear that I saw there. It was +rage; it was jealousy. +</p> + +<p> +“The traitress—it is Marie!” she shrieked. +</p> + +<p> +For a moment, obtusely, I did not understand. +</p> + +<p> +“She has made a secret appointment with him,” she cried. +</p> + +<p> +At last I saw the truth. Paula Lowe had fallen in love with the man she had +sworn to kill! +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap02"></a>CHAPTER II<br/> +THE ELECTRO-MAGNETIC GUN</h2> + +<p> +“What shall we do?” demanded Burke, instantly taking in the dangerous situation +that the Baron’s sudden change of plans had opened up. +</p> + +<p> +“Call O’Connor,” I suggested, thinking of the police bureau of missing persons, +and reaching for the telephone. +</p> + +<p> +“No, no!” almost shouted Craig, seizing my arm. “The police will inevitably +spoil it all. No, we must play a lone hand in this if we are to work it out. +How was Fortescue discovered, Burke?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sitting in a chair in his laboratory. He must have been there all night. There +wasn’t a mark on him, not a sign of violence, yet his face was terribly drawn +as though he were gasping for breath or his heart had suddenly failed him. So +far, I believe, the coroner has no clue and isn’t advertising the case.” +</p> + +<p> +“Take me there, then,” decided Craig quickly. “Walter, I must trust Miss Lowe +to you on the journey. We must all go. That must be our starting point, if we +are to run this thing down.” +</p> + +<p> +I caught his significant look to me and interpreted it to mean that he wanted +me to watch Miss Lowe especially. I gathered that taking her was in the nature +of a third degree and as a result he expected to derive some information from +her. Her face was pale and drawn as we four piled into a taxicab for a quick +run downtown to the laboratory of Fortescue from which Burke had come directly +to us with his story. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you know of these anarchists?” asked Kennedy of Burke as we sped +along. “Why do you suspect them?” +</p> + +<p> +It was evident that he was discussing the case so that Paula could overhear, +for a purpose. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, we received a tip from abroad—I won’t say where,” replied Burke +guardedly, taking his cue. “They call themselves the ‘Group,’ I believe, which +is a common enough term among anarchists. It seems they are composed of +terrorists of all nations.” +</p> + +<p> +“The leader?” inquired Kennedy, leading him on. +</p> + +<p> +“There is one, I believe, a little florid, stout German. I think he is a +paranoiac who believes there has fallen on himself a divine mission to end all +warfare. Quite likely he is one of those who have fled to America to avoid +military service. Perhaps, why certainly, you must know him—Annenberg, an +instructor in economics now at the University?” +</p> + +<p> +Craig nodded and raised his eyebrows in mild surprise. We had indeed heard of +Annenberg and some of his radical theories which had sometimes quite alarmed +the conservative faculty. I felt that this was getting pretty close home to us +now. +</p> + +<p> +“How about Mrs. Annenberg?” Craig asked, recalling the clever young wife of the +middle-aged professor. +</p> + +<p> +At the mere mention of the name, I felt a sort of start in Miss Lowe, who was +seated next to me in the taxicab. She had quickly recovered herself, but not +before I saw that Kennedy’s plan of breaking down the last barrier of her +reserve was working. +</p> + +<p> +“She is one of them, too,” Burke nodded. “I have had my men out shadowing them +and their friends. They tell me that the Annenbergs hold salons—I suppose you +would call them that—attended by numbers of men and women of high social and +intellectual position who dabble in radicalism and all sorts of things.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who are the other leaders?” asked Craig. “Have you any idea?” +</p> + +<p> +“Some idea,” returned Burke. “There seems to be a Frenchman, a tall, wiry man +of forty-five or fifty with a black mustache which once had a military twist. +There are a couple of Englishmen. Then there are five or six Americans who seem +to be active. One, I believe, is a young woman.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy checked him with a covert glance, but did not betray by a movement of a +muscle to Miss Lowe that either Burke or himself suspected her of being the +young woman in question. +</p> + +<p> +“There are three Russians,” continued Burke, “all of whom have escaped from +Siberia. Then there is at least one Austrian, a Spaniard from the Ferrer +school, and Tomasso and Enrico, two Italians, rather heavily built, swarthy, +bearded. They look the part. Of course there are others. But these in the main, +I think, compose what might be called ‘the inner circle’ of the ‘Group.’” +</p> + +<p> +It was indeed an alarming, terrifying revelation, as we began to realize that +Miss Lowe had undoubtedly been telling the truth. Not alone was there this +American group, evidently, but all over Europe the lines of the conspiracy had +apparently spread. It was not a casual gathering of ordinary malcontents. It +went deeper than that. It included many who in their disgust at war secretly +were not unwilling to wink at violence to end the curse. I could not but +reflect on the dangerous ground on which most of them were treading, shaking +the basis of all civilization in order to cut out one modern excrescence. +</p> + +<p> +The big fact to us, just at present, was that this group had made America its +headquarters, that plans had been studiously matured and even reduced to +writing, if Paula were to be believed. Everything had been carefully staged for +a great simultaneous blow or series of blows that would rouse the whole world. +</p> + +<p> +As I watched I could not escape observing that Miss Lowe followed Burke +furtively now, as though he had some uncanny power. +</p> + +<p> +Fortescue’s laboratory was in an old building on a side street several blocks +from the main thoroughfares of Manhattan. He had evidently chosen it, partly +because of its very inaccessibility in order to secure the quiet necessary for +his work. +</p> + +<p> +“If he had any visitors last night,” commented Kennedy when our cab at last +pulled up before the place, “they might have come and gone unnoticed.” +</p> + +<p> +We entered. Nothing had been disturbed in the laboratory by the coroner and +Kennedy was able to gain a complete idea of the case rapidly, almost as well as +if we had been called in immediately. +</p> + +<p> +Fortescue’s body, it seemed, had been discovered sprawled out in a big +armchair, as Burke had said, by one of his assistants only a few hours before +when he had come to the laboratory in the morning to open it. Evidently he had +been there undisturbed all night, keeping a gruesome vigil over his looted +treasure house. +</p> + +<p> +As we gleaned the meager facts, it became more evident that whoever had +perpetrated the crime must have had the diabolical cunning to do it in some +ordinary way that aroused no suspicion on the part of the victim, for there was +no sign of any violence anywhere. +</p> + +<p> +As we entered the laboratory, I noted an involuntary shudder on the part of +Paula Lowe, but, as far as I knew, it was no more than might have been felt by +anyone under the circumstances. +</p> + +<p> +Fortescue’s body had been removed from the chair in which it had been found and +lay on a couch at the other end of the room, covered merely by a sheet. +Otherwise, everything, even the armchair, was undisturbed. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy pulled back a corner of the sheet, disclosing the face, contorted and +of a peculiar, purplish hue from the congested blood vessels. He bent over and +I did so, too. There was an unmistakable odor of tobacco on him. A moment +Kennedy studied the face before us, then slowly replaced the sheet. +</p> + +<p> +Miss Lowe had paused just inside the door and seemed resolutely bound not to +look at anything. Kennedy meanwhile had begun a most minute search of the table +and floor of the laboratory near the spot where the armchair had been sitting. +</p> + +<p> +In my effort to glean what I could from her actions and expressions I did not +notice that Craig had dropped to his knees and was peering into the shadow +under the laboratory table. When at last he rose and straightened himself up, +however, I saw that he was holding in the palm of his hand a half-smoked, +gold-tipped cigarette, which had evidently fallen on the floor beneath the +table where it had burned itself out, leaving a blackened mark on the wood. +</p> + +<p> +An instant afterward he picked out from the pile of articles found in +Fortescue’s pockets and lying on another table a silver cigarette case. He +snapped it open. Fortescue’s cigarettes, of which there were perhaps a half +dozen in the case, were cork-tipped. +</p> + +<p> +Some one had evidently visited the inventor the night before, had apparently +offered him a cigarette, for there were any number of the cork-tipped stubs +lying about. Who was it? I caught Paula looking with fascinated gaze at the +gold-tipped stub, as Kennedy carefully folded it up in a piece of paper and +deposited it in his pocket. Did she know something about the case, I wondered? +</p> + +<p> +Without a word, Kennedy seemed to take in the scant furniture of the laboratory +at a glance and a quick step or two brought him before a steel filing cabinet. +One drawer, which had not been closed as tightly as the rest, projected a bit. +On its face was a little typewritten card bearing the inscription: “E-M GUN.” +</p> + +<p> +He pulled the drawer open and glanced over the data in it. +</p> + +<p> +“Just what is an electro-magnetic gun?” I asked, interpreting the initials on +the drawer. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” he explained as he turned over the notes and sketches, “the primary +principle involved in the construction of such a gun consists in impelling the +projectile by the magnetic action of a solenoid, the sectional coils or helices +of which are supplied with current through devices actuated by the projectile +itself. In other words, the sections of helices of the solenoid produce an +accelerated motion of the projectile by acting successively on it, after a +principle involved in the construction of electro-magnetic rock drills and +dispatch tubes. +</p> + +<p> +“All projectiles used in this gun of Fortescue’s evidently must have magnetic +properties and projectiles of iron or containing large portions of iron are +necessary. You see, many coils are wound around the barrel of the gun. As the +projectile starts it does so under the attraction of those coils ahead which +the current makes temporary magnets. It automatically cuts off the current from +those coils that it passes, allowing those further on only to attract it, and +preventing those behind from pulling it back.” +</p> + +<p> +He paused to study the scraps of plans. “Fortescue had evidently also worked +out a way of changing the poles of the coils as the projectile passed, causing +them then to repel the projectile, which must have added to its velocity. He +seems to have overcome the practical difficulty that in order to obtain service +velocities with service projectiles an enormous number of windings and a +tremendously long barrel are necessary as well as an abnormally heavy current +beyond the safe carrying capacity of the solenoid which would raise the +temperature to a point that would destroy the coils.” +</p> + +<p> +He continued turning over the prints and notes in the drawer. When he finished, +he looked up at us with an expression that indicated that he had merely +satisfied himself of something he had already suspected. +</p> + +<p> +“You were right, Burke,” he said. “The final plans are gone.” +</p> + +<p> +Burke, who, in the meantime, had been telephoning about the city in a vain +effort to locate Baron Kreiger, both at such banking offices in Wall Street as +he might be likely to visit and at some of the hotels most frequented by +foreigners, merely nodded. He was evidently at a loss completely how to +proceed. +</p> + +<p> +In fact, there seemed to be innumerable problems—to warn Baron Kreiger, to get +the list of the assassinations, to guard Miss Lowe against falling into the +hands of her anarchist friends again, to find the murderer of Fortescue, to +prevent the use of the electro-magnetic gun, and, if possible, to seize the +anarchists before they had a chance to carry further their plans. +</p> + +<p> +“There is nothing more that we can do here,” remarked Craig briskly, betraying +no sign of hesitation. “I think the best thing we can do is to go to my own +laboratory. There at least there is something I must investigate sooner or +later.” +</p> + +<p> +No one offering either a suggestion or an objection, we four again entered our +cab. It was quite noticeable now that the visit had shaken Paula Lowe, but +Kennedy still studiously refrained from questioning her, trusting that what she +had seen and heard, especially Burke’s report as to Baron Kreiger, would have +its effect. +</p> + +<p> +Like everyone visiting Craig’s laboratory for the first time, Miss Lowe seemed +to feel the spell of the innumerable strange and uncanny instruments which he +had gathered about him in his scientific warfare against crime. I could see +that she was becoming more and more nervous, perhaps fearing even that in some +incomprehensible way he might read her own thoughts. Yet one thing I did not +detect. She showed no disposition to turn back on the course on which she had +entered by coming to us in the first place. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy was quickly and deftly testing the stub of the little thin, gold-tipped +cigarette. +</p> + +<p> +“Excessive smoking,” he remarked casually, “causes neuroses of the heart and +tobacco has a specific affinity for the coronary arteries as well as a +tremendous effect on the vagus nerve. But I don’t think this was any ordinary +smoke.” +</p> + +<p> +He had finished his tests and a quiet smile of satisfaction flitted momentarily +over his face. We had been watching him anxiously, wondering what he had found. +</p> + +<p> +As he looked up he remarked to us, with his eyes fixed on Miss Lowe, “That was +a ladies’ cigarette. Did you notice the size? There has been a woman in this +case—presumably.” +</p> + +<p> +The girl, suddenly transformed by the rapid-fire succession of discoveries, +stood before us like a specter. +</p> + +<p> +“The ‘Group,’ as anarchists call it,” pursued Craig, “is the loosest sort of +organization conceivable, I believe, with no set membership, no officers, no +laws—just a place of meeting with no fixity, where the comrades get together. +Could you get us into the inner circle, Miss Lowe?” +</p> + +<p> +Her only answer was a little suppressed scream. Kennedy had asked the question +merely for its effect, for it was only too evident that there was no time, even +if she could have managed it, for us to play the “stool pigeon.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy, who had been clearing up the materials he had used in the analysis of +the cigarette, wheeled about suddenly. “Where is the headquarters of the inner +circle?” he shot out. +</p> + +<p> +Miss Lowe hesitated. That had evidently been one of the things she had +determined not to divulge. +</p> + +<p> +“Tell me,” insisted Kennedy. “You must!” +</p> + +<p> +If it had been Burke’s bulldozing she would never have yielded. But as she +looked into Kennedy’s eyes she read there that he had long since fathomed the +secret of her wildly beating heart, that if she would accomplish the purpose of +saving the Baron she must stop at nothing. +</p> + +<p> +“At—Maplehurst,” she answered in a low tone, dropping her eyes from his +penetrating gaze, “Professor Annenberg’s home—out on Long Island.” +</p> + +<p> +“We must act swiftly if we are to succeed,” considered Kennedy, his tone +betraying rather sympathy with than triumph over the wretched girl who had at +last cast everything in the balance to outweigh the terrible situation into +which she had been drawn. “To send Miss Lowe for that fatal list of +assassinations is to send her either back into the power of this murderous +group and let them know that she has told us, or perhaps to involve her again +in the completion of their plans.” +</p> + +<p> +She sank back into a chair in complete nervous and physical collapse, covering +her face with her hands at the realization that in her new-found passion to +save the Baron she had bared her sensitive soul for the dissection of three men +whom she had never seen before. +</p> + +<p> +“We must have that list,” pursued Kennedy decisively. “We must visit +Annenberg’s headquarters.” +</p> + +<p> +“And I?” she asked, trembling now with genuine fear at the thought that he +might ask her to accompany us as he had on our visit to Fortescue’s laboratory +that morning. +</p> + +<p> +“Miss Lowe,” said Kennedy, bending over her, “you have gone too far now ever to +turn back. You are not equal to the trip. Would you like to remain here? No one +will suspect. Here at least you will be safe until we return.” +</p> + +<p> +Her answer was a mute expression of thanks and confidence. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap03"></a>CHAPTER III<br/> +THE MURDER SYNDICATE</h2> + +<p> +Quickly now Craig completed his arrangements for the visit to the headquarters +of the real anarchist leader. Burke telephoned for a high-powered car, while +Miss Lowe told frankly of the habits of Annenberg and the chances of finding +his place unguarded, which were good in the daytime. Kennedy’s only equipment +for the excursion consisted in a small package which he took from a cabinet at +the end of the room, and, with a parting reassurance to Paula Lowe, we were +soon speeding over the bridge to the borough across the river. +</p> + +<p> +We realized that it might prove a desperate undertaking, but the crisis was +such that it called for any risk. +</p> + +<p> +Our quest took us to a rather dilapidated old house on the outskirts of the +little Long Island town. The house stood alone, not far from the tracks of a +trolley that ran at infrequent intervals. Even a hasty reconnoitering showed +that to stop our motor at even a reasonable distance from it was in itself to +arouse suspicion. +</p> + +<p> +Although the house seemed deserted, Craig took no chances, but directed the car +to turn at the next crossroad and then run back along a road back of and +parallel to that on which Annenberg’s was situated. It was perhaps a quarter of +a mile away, across an open field, that we stopped and ran the car up along the +side of the road in some bushes. Annenberg’s was plainly visible and it was not +at all likely that anyone there would suspect trouble from that quarter. +</p> + +<p> +A hasty conference with Burke followed, in which Kennedy unwrapped his small +package, leaving part of its contents with him, and adding careful +instructions. +</p> + +<p> +Then Kennedy and I retraced our steps down the road, across by the crossroad, +and at last back to the mysterious house. +</p> + +<p> +To all appearance there had been no need of such excessive caution. Not a sound +or motion greeted us as we entered the gate and made our way around to the rear +of the house. The very isolation of the house was now our protection, for we +had no inquisitive neighbors to watch us for the instant when Kennedy, with the +dexterity of a yeggman, inserted his knife between the sashes of the kitchen +window and turned the catch which admitted us. +</p> + +<p> +We made our way on cautious tiptoe through a dining room to a living room, and, +finding nothing, proceeded upstairs. There was not a soul, apparently, in the +house, nor in fact anything to indicate that it was different from most small +suburban homes, until at last we mounted to the attic. +</p> + +<p> +It was finished off in one large room across the back of the house and two in +front. As we opened the door to the larger room, we could only gaze about in +surprise. This was the rendezvous, the arsenal, literary, explosive and +toxicological of the “Group.” Ranged on a table were all the materials for +bomb-making, while in a cabinet I fancied there were poisons enough to decimate +a city. +</p> + +<p> +On the walls were pictures, mostly newspaper prints, of the assassins of +McKinley, of King Humbert, of the King of Greece, of King Carlos and others, +interspersed with portraits of anarchist and anti-militarist leaders of all +lands. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy sniffed. Over all I, too, could catch the faint odor of stale tobacco. +No time was to be lost, however, and while Craig set to work rapidly going +through the contents of a desk in the corner, I glanced over the contents of a +drawer of a heavy mission table. +</p> + +<p> +“Here’s some of Annenberg’s literature,” I remarked, coming across a small pile +of manuscript, entitled “The Human Slaughter House.” +</p> + +<p> +“Read it,” panted Kennedy, seeing that I had about completed my part of the +job. “It may give a clue.” +</p> + +<p> +Hastily I scanned the mad, frantic indictment of war, while Craig continued in +his search: +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +“I see wild beasts all around me, distorted unnaturally, in a life and death +struggle, with bloodshot eyes, with foaming, gnashing mouths. They attack and +kill one another and try to mangle each other. I leap to my feet. I race out +into the night and tread on quaking flesh, step on hard heads, and stumble over +weapons and helmets. Something is clutching at my feet like hands, so that I +race away like a hunted deer with the hounds at his heels—and ever over more +bodies—breathless… out of one field into another. Horror is crooning over my +head. Horror is crooning beneath my feet. And nothing but dying, mangled flesh! +</p> + +<p> +“Of a sudden I see nothing but blood before me. The heavens have opened and the +red blood pours in through the windows. Blood wells up on an altar. The walls +run blood from the ceiling to the floor and… a giant of blood stands before me. +His beard and his hair drip blood. He seats himself on the altar and laughs +from thick lips. The black executioner raises his sword and whirls it above my +head. Another moment and my head will roll down on the floor. Another moment +and the red jet will spurt from my neck. +</p> + +<p> +“Murderers! Murderers! None other than murderers!” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +I paused in the reading. “There’s nothing here,” I remarked, glancing over the +curious document for a clue, but finding none. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” remarked Craig contemplatively, “one can at least easily understand how +sensitive and imaginative people who have fallen under the influence of one who +writes in that way can feel justified in killing those responsible for bringing +such horrors on the human race. Hello—what’s this?” +</p> + +<p> +He had discovered a false back of one of the drawers in the desk and had +jimmied it open. On the top of innumerable papers lay a large linen envelope. +On its face it bore in typewriting, just like the card on the drawer at +Fortescue’s, “E-M GUN.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is the original envelope that contained the final plans of the +electro-magnetic gun,” he explained, opening it. +</p> + +<p> +The envelope was empty. We looked at each other a moment in silence. What had +been done with the plans? +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly a bell rang, startling me beyond measure. It was, however, only the +telephone, of which an extension reached up into the attic-arsenal. Some one, +who did not know that we were there, was evidently calling up. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy quickly unhooked the receiver with a hasty motion to me to be silent. +</p> + +<p> +“Hello,” I heard him answer. “Yes, this is it.” +</p> + +<p> +He had disguised his voice. I waited anxiously and watched his face to gather +what response he received. +</p> + +<p> +“The deuce!” he exclaimed, with his hand over the transmitter so that his voice +would not be heard at the other end of the line. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s the matter?” I asked eagerly. +</p> + +<p> +“It was Mrs. Annenberg—I am sure. But she was too keen for me. She caught on. +There must be some password or form of expression that they use, which we don’t +know, for she hung up the receiver almost as soon as she heard me.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy waited a minute or so. Then he whistled into the transmitter. It was +done apparently to see whether there was anyone listening. But there was no +answer. +</p> + +<p> +“Operator, operator!” he called insistently, moving the hook up and down. “Yes, +operator. Can you tell me what number that was which just called?” +</p> + +<p> +He waited impatiently. +</p> + +<p> +“Bleecker—7l80,” he repeated after the girl. “Thank you. Information, please.” +</p> + +<p> +Again we waited, as Craig tried to trace the call up. +</p> + +<p> +“What is the street address of Bleecker, 7180?” he asked. “Five hundred and one +East Fifth—a tenement. Thank you.” +</p> + +<p> +“A tenement?” I repeated blankly. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he cried, now for the first time excited. “Don’t you begin to see the +scheme? I’ll wager that Baron Kreiger has been lured to New York to purchase +the electro-magnetic gun which they have stolen from Fortescue and the British. +That is the bait that is held out to him by the woman. Call up Miss Lowe at the +laboratory and see if she knows the place.” +</p> + +<p> +I gave central the number, while he fell to at the little secret drawer of the +desk again. The grinding of the wheels of a passing trolley interfered somewhat +with giving the number and I had to wait a moment. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah—Walter—here’s the list!” almost shouted Kennedy, as he broke open a +black-japanned dispatch box in the desk. +</p> + +<p> +I bent over it, as far as the slack of the telephone wire of the receiver at my +ear would permit. Annenberg had worked with amazing care and neatness on the +list, even going so far as to draw at the top, in black, a death’s head. The +rest of it was elaborately prepared in flaming red ink. +</p> + +<p> +Craig gasped to observe the list of world-famous men marked for destruction in +London, Paris, Berlin, Rome, Vienna, St. Petersburg, and even in New York and +Washington. +</p> + +<p> +“What is the date set?” I asked, still with my ear glued to the receiver. +</p> + +<p> +“To-night and to-morrow,” he replied, stuffing the fateful sheet into his +pocket. +</p> + +<p> +Rummaging about in the drawer of the table, I had come to a package of +gold-tipped cigarettes which had interested me and I had left them out. Kennedy +was now looking at them curiously. +</p> + +<p> +“What is to be the method, do you suppose?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“By a poison that is among the most powerful, approaching even cyanogen,” he +replied confidently, tapping the cigarettes. “Do you smell the odor in this +room? What is it like?” +</p> + +<p> +“Stale tobacco,” I replied. +</p> + +<p> +“Exactly—nicotine. Two or three drops on the mouth-end of a cigar or cigarette. +The intended victim thinks it is only natural. But it is the purest form of the +deadly alkaloid—fatal in a few minutes, too.” +</p> + +<p> +He examined the thin little cigarettes more carefully. “Nicotine,” he went on, +“was about the first alkaloid that was recovered from the body by chemical +analysis in a homicide case. That is the penetrating, persistent odor you +smelled at Fortescue’s and also here. It’s a very good poison—if you are not +particular about being discovered. A pound of ordinary smoking tobacco contains +from a half to an ounce of it. It is almost entirely consumed by combustion; +otherwise a pipeful would be fatal. Of course they may have thought that +investigators would believe that their victims were inveterate smokers. But +even the worst tobacco fiend wouldn’t show traces of the weed to such an +extent.” +</p> + +<p> +Miss Lowe answered at last and Kennedy took the telephone. +</p> + +<p> +“What is at five hundred and one East Fifth?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“A headquarters of the Group in the city,” she answered. “Why?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I believe that the plans of that gun are there and that the Baron—” +</p> + +<p> +“You damned spies!” came a voice from behind us. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy dropped the receiver, turning quickly, his automatic gleaming in his +hand. +</p> + +<p> +There was just a glimpse of a man with glittering bright blue eyes that had an +almost fiendish, baleful glare. An instant later the door which had so +unexpectedly opened banged shut, we heard a key turn in the lock—and the man +dropped to the floor before even Kennedy’s automatic could test its ability to +penetrate wood on a chance at hitting something the other side of it. +</p> + +<p> +We were prisoners! +</p> + +<p> +My mind worked automatically. At this very moment, perhaps, Baron Kreiger might +be negotiating for the electro-magnetic gun. We had found out where he was, in +all probability, but we were powerless to help him. I thought of Miss Lowe, and +picked up the receiver which Kennedy had dropped. +</p> + +<p> +She did not answer. The wire had been cut. We were isolated! +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy had jumped to the window. I followed to restrain him, fearing that he +had some mad scheme for climbing out. Instead, quickly he placed a peculiar +arrangement, from the little package he had brought, holding it to his eye as +if sighting it, his right hand grasping a handle as one holds a stereoscope. A +moment later, as I examined it more closely, I saw that instead of looking at +anything he had before him a small parabolic mirror turned away from him. +</p> + +<p> +His finger pressed alternately on a button on the handle and I could see that +there flashed in the little mirror a minute incandescent lamp which seemed to +have a special filament arrangement. +</p> + +<p> +The glaring sun was streaming in at the window and I wondered what could +possibly be accomplished by the little light in competition with the sun +itself. +</p> + +<p> +“Signaling by electric light in the daytime may sound to you ridiculous,” +explained Craig, still industriously flashing the light, “but this arrangement +with Professor Donath’s signal mirror makes it possible, all right. +</p> + +<p> +“I hadn’t expected this, but I thought I might want to communicate with Burke +quickly. You see, I sight the lamp and then press the button which causes the +light in the mirror to flash. It seems a paradox that a light like this can be +seen from a distance of even five miles and yet be invisible to one for whom it +was not intended, but it is so. I use the ordinary Morse code—two seconds for a +dot, six for a dash with a four-second interval.” +</p> + +<p> +“What message did you send?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I told him that Baron Kreiger was at five hundred and one East Fifth, +probably; to get the secret service office in New York by wire and have them +raid the place, then to come and rescue us. That was Annenberg. He must have +come up by that trolley we heard passing just before.” +</p> + +<p> +The minutes seemed ages as we waited for Burke to start the machinery of the +raid and then come for us. +</p> + +<p> +“No—you can’t have a cigarette—and if I had a pair of bracelets with me, I’d +search you myself,” we heard a welcome voice growl outside the door a few +minutes later. “Look in that other pocket, Tom.” +</p> + +<p> +The lock grated back and there stood Burke holding in a grip of steel the +undersized Annenberg, while the chauffeur who had driven our car swung open the +door. +</p> + +<p> +“I’d have been up sooner,” apologized Burke, giving the anarchist an extra +twist just to let him know that he was at last in the hands of the law, “only I +figured that this fellow couldn’t have got far away in this God-forsaken +Ducktown and I might as well pick him up while I had a chance. That’s a great +little instrument of yours, Kennedy. I got you, fine.” +</p> + +<p> +Annenberg, seeing we were now four to one, concluded that discretion was the +better part of valor and ceased to struggle, though now and then I could see he +glanced at Kennedy out of the corner of his eye. To every question he +maintained a stolid silence. +</p> + +<p> +A few minutes later, with the arch anarchist safely pinioned between us, we +were speeding back toward New York, laying plans for Burke to dispatch warnings +abroad to those whose names appeared on the fatal list, and at the same time to +round up as many of the conspirators as possible in America. +</p> + +<p> +As for Kennedy, his main interest now lay in Baron Kreiger and Paula. While she +had been driven frantic by the outcome of the terrible pact into which she had +been drawn, some one, undoubtedly, had been trying to sell Baron Kreiger the +gun that had been stolen from the American inventor. Once they had his money +and he had received the plans of the gun, a fatal cigarette would be smoked. +Could we prevent it? +</p> + +<p> +On we tore back to the city, across the bridge and down through the canyons of +East Side streets. +</p> + +<p> +At last we pulled up before the tenement at five hundred and one. As we did so, +one of Burke’s men jumped out of the doorway. +</p> + +<p> +“Are we in time?” shouted Burke. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s an awful mix-up,” returned the man. “I can’t make anything out of it, so +I ordered ’em all held here till you came.” +</p> + +<p> +We pushed past without a word of criticism of his wonderful acumen. +</p> + +<p> +On the top floor we came upon a young man, bending over the form of a girl who +had fainted. On the floor of the middle of the room was a mass of charred +papers which had evidently burned a hole in the carpet before they had been +stamped out. Near by was an unlighted cigarette, crushed flat on the floor. +</p> + +<p> +“How is she?” asked Kennedy anxiously of the young man, as he dropped down on +the other side of the girl. +</p> + +<p> +It was Paula. She had fainted, but was just now coming out of the borderland of +unconsciousness. +</p> + +<p> +“Was I in time? Had he smoked it?” she moaned weakly, as there swam before her +eyes, evidently, a hazy vision of our faces. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy turned to the young man. +</p> + +<p> +“Baron Kreiger, I presume?” he inquired. +</p> + +<p> +The young man nodded. +</p> + +<p> +“Burke of the Secret Service,” introduced Craig, indicating our friend. “My +name is Kennedy. Tell what happened.” +</p> + +<p> +“I had just concluded a transaction,” returned Kreiger in good but carefully +guarded English. “Suddenly the door burst open. She seized these papers and +dashed a cigarette out of my hands. The next instant she had touched a match to +them and had fallen in a faint almost in the blaze. Strangest experience I ever +had in my life. Then all these other fellows came bursting in—said they were +Secret Service men, too.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy had no time to reply, for a cry from Annenberg directed our attention +to the next room where on a couch lay a figure all huddled up. +</p> + +<p> +As we looked we saw it was a woman, her head sweating profusely, and her hands +cold and clammy. There was a strange twitching of the muscles of the face, the +pupils of her eyes were widely dilated, her pulse weak and irregular. Evidently +her circulation had failed so that it responded only feebly to stimulants, for +her respiration was slow and labored, with loud inspiratory gasps. +</p> + +<p> +Annenberg had burst with superhuman strength from Burke’s grasp and was +kneeling by the side of his wife’s deathbed. +</p> + +<p> +“It—was all Paula’s fault—” gasped the woman. “I—knew I had better—carry it +through—like the Fortescue visit—alone.” +</p> + +<p> +I felt a sense of reassurance at the words. At least my suspicions had been +unfounded. Paula was innocent of the murder of Fortescue. +</p> + +<p> +“Severe, acute nicotine poisoning,” remarked Kennedy, as he rejoined us a +moment later. “There is nothing we can do—now.” +</p> + +<p> +Paula moved at the words, as though they had awakened a new energy in her. With +a supreme effort she raised herself. +</p> + +<p> +“Then I—I failed?” she cried, catching sight of Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +“No, Miss Lowe,” he answered gently. “You won. The plans of the terrible gun +are destroyed. The Baron is safe. Mrs. Annenberg has herself smoked one of the +fatal cigarettes intended for him.” +</p> + +<p> +Kreiger looked at us, uncomprehending. Kennedy picked up the crushed, unlighted +cigarette and laid it in the palm of his hand beside another, half smoked, +which he had found beside Mrs. Annenberg. +</p> + +<p> +“They are deadly,” he said simply to Kreiger. “A few drops of pure nicotine +hidden by that pretty gilt tip would have accomplished all that the bitterest +anarchist could desire.” +</p> + +<p> +All at once Kreiger seemed to realize what he had escaped so narrowly. He +turned toward Paula. The revulsion of her feelings at seeing him safe was too +much for her shattered nerves. +</p> + +<p> +With a faint little cry, she tottered. +</p> + +<p> +Before any of us could reach her, he had caught her in his arms and imprinted a +warm kiss on the insensible lips. +</p> + +<p> +“Some water—quick!” he cried, still holding her close. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap04"></a>CHAPTER IV<br/> +THE AIR PIRATE</h2> + +<p> +Rounding up the “Group” took several days, and it proved to be a great story +for the <i>Star</i>. I was pretty fagged when it was all over, but there was a +great deal of satisfaction in knowing that we had frustrated one of the most +daring anarchist plots of recent years. +</p> + +<p> +“Can you arrange to spend the week-end with me at Stuyvesant Verplanck’s at +Bluffwood?” asked Kennedy over the telephone, the afternoon that I had +completed my work on the newspaper of undoing what Annenberg and the rest had +attempted. +</p> + +<p> +“How long since society took you up?” I asked airily, adding, “Is it a large +house party you are getting up?” +</p> + +<p> +“You have heard of the so-called ‘phantom bandit’ of Bluffwood, haven’t you?” +he returned rather brusquely, as though there was no time now for bantering. +</p> + +<p> +I confess that in the excitement of the anarchists I had forgotten it, but now +I recalled that for several days I had been reading little paragraphs about +robberies on the big estates on the Long Island shore of the Sound. One of the +local correspondents had called the robber a “phantom bandit,” but I had +thought it nothing more than an attempt to make good copy out of a rather +ordinary occurrence. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” he hurried on, “that’s the reason why I have been ‘taken up by +society,’ as you so elegantly phrase it. From the secret hiding-places of the +boudoirs and safes of fashionable women at Bluffwood, thousands of dollars’ +worth of jewels and other trinkets have mysteriously vanished. Of course you’ll +come along. Why, it will be just the story to tone up that alleged page of +society news you hand out in the Sunday <i>Star</i>. There—we’re quits now. +Seriously, though, Walter, it really seems to be a very baffling case, or +rather series of cases. The whole colony out there is terrorized. They don’t +know who the robber is, or how he operates, or who will be the next victim, but +his skill and success seem almost uncanny. Mr. Verplanck has put one of his +cars at my disposal and I’m up here at the laboratory gathering some apparatus +that may be useful. I’ll pick you up anywhere between this and the Bridge—how +about Columbus Circle in half an hour?” +</p> + +<p> +“Good,” I agreed, deciding quickly from his tone and manner of assurance that +it would be a case I could not afford to miss. +</p> + +<p> +The Stuyvesant Verplancks, I knew, were among the leaders of the rather +recherché society at Bluffwood, and the pace at which Bluffwood moved and had +its being was such as to guarantee a good story in one way or another. +</p> + +<p> +“Why,” remarked Kennedy, as we sped out over the picturesque roads of the north +shore of Long Island, “this fellow, or fellows, seems to have taken the measure +of all the wealthy members of the exclusive organizations out there—the +Westport Yacht Club, the Bluffwood Country Club, the North Shore Hunt, and all +of them. It’s a positive scandal, the ease with which he seems to come and go +without detection, striking now here, now there, often at places that it seems +physically impossible to get at, and yet always with the same diabolical skill +and success. One night he will take some baubles worth thousands, the next pass +them by for something apparently of no value at all, a piece of bric-à-brac, a +bundle of letters, anything.” +</p> + +<p> +“Seems purposeless, insane, doesn’t it?” I put in. +</p> + +<p> +“Not when he always takes something—often more valuable than money,” returned +Craig. +</p> + +<p> +He leaned back in the car and surveyed the glimpses of bay and countryside as +we were whisked by the breaks in the trees. +</p> + +<p> +“Walter,” he remarked meditatively, “have you ever considered the possibilities +of blackmail if the right sort of evidence were obtained under this new +‘white-slavery act’? Scandals that some of the fast set may be inclined to wink +at, that at worst used to end in Reno, become felonies with federal prison +sentences looming up in the background. Think it over.” +</p> + +<p> +Stuyvesant Verplanck had telephoned rather hurriedly to Craig earlier in the +day, retaining his services, but telling only in the briefest way of the extent +of the depredations, and hinting that more than jewelry might be at stake. +</p> + +<p> +It was a pleasant ride, but we finished it in silence. Verplanck was, as I +recalled, a large masterful man, one of those who demanded and liked large +things—such as the estate of several hundred acres which we at last entered. +</p> + +<p> +It was on a neck of land with the restless waters of the Sound on one side and +the calmer waters of the bay on the other. Westport Bay lay in a beautifully +wooded, hilly country, and the house itself was on an elevation, with a huge +sweep of terraced lawn before it down to the water’s edge. All around, for +miles, were other large estates, a veritable colony of wealth. +</p> + +<p> +As we pulled up under the broad stone porte-cochère, Verplanck, who had been +expecting us, led the way into his library, a great room, literally crowded +with curios and objects of art which he had collected on his travels. It was a +superb mental workshop, overlooking the bay, with a stretch of several miles of +sheltered water. +</p> + +<p> +“You will recall,” began Verplanck, wasting no time over preliminaries, but +plunging directly into the subject, “that the prominent robberies of late have +been at seacoast resorts, especially on the shores of Long Island Sound, +within, say, a hundred miles of New York. There has been a great deal of talk +about dark and muffled automobiles that have conveyed mysterious parties +swiftly and silently across country. +</p> + +<p> +“My theory,” he went on self-assertively, “is that the attack has been made +always along water routes. Under shadow of darkness, it is easy to slip into +one of the sheltered coves or miniature fiords with which the north coast of +the Island abounds, land a cut-throat crew primed with exact information of the +treasure on some of these estates. Once the booty is secured, the criminal +could put out again into the Sound without leaving a clue.” +</p> + +<p> +He seemed to be considering his theory. “Perhaps the robberies last summer at +Narragansett, Newport, and a dozen other New England places were perpetrated by +the same cracksman. I believe,” he concluded, lowering his voice, “that there +plies to-day on the wide waters of the Sound a slim, swift motor boat which +wears the air of a pleasure craft, yet is as black a pirate as ever flew the +Jolly Roger. She may at this moment be anchored off some exclusive yacht club, +flying the respectable burgee of the club—who knows?” +</p> + +<p> +He paused as if his deductions settled the case so far. He would have resumed +in the same vein, if the door had not opened. A lady in a cobwebby gown entered +the room. She was of middle age, but had retained her youth with a skill that +her sisters of less leisure always envy. Evidently she had not expected to find +anyone, yet nothing seemed to disconcert her. +</p> + +<p> +“Mrs. Verplanck,” her husband introduced, “Professor Kennedy and his associate, +Mr. Jameson—those detectives we have heard about. We were discussing the +robberies.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes,” she said, smiling, “my husband has been thinking of forming himself +into a vigilance committee. The local authorities are all at sea.” +</p> + +<p> +I thought there was a trace of something veiled in the remark and fancied, not +only then but later, that there was an air of constraint between the couple. +</p> + +<p> +“You have not been robbed yourself?” queried Craig tentatively. +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed we have,” exclaimed Verplanck quickly. “The other night I was awakened +by the noise of some one down here in this very library. I fired a shot, wild, +and shouted, but before I could get down here the intruder had fled through a +window, and half rolling down the terraces. Mrs. Verplanck was awakened by the +rumpus and both of us heard a peculiar whirring noise.” +</p> + +<p> +“Like an automobile muffled down,” she put in. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” he asserted vigorously, “more like a powerful motor boat, one with the +exhaust under water.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” she shrugged, “at any rate, we saw no one.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did the intruder get anything?” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s the lucky part. He had just opened this safe apparently and begun to +ransack it. This is my private safe. Mrs. Verplanck has another built into her +own room upstairs where she keeps her jewels.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is not a very modern safe, is it?” ventured Kennedy. “The fellow ripped off +the outer casing with what they call a ‘can-opener.’” +</p> + +<p> +“No. I keep it against fire rather than burglars. But he overlooked a box of +valuable heirlooms, some silver with the Verplanck arms. I think I must have +scared him off just in time. He seized a package in the safe, but it was only +some business correspondence. I don’t relish having lost it, particularly. It +related to a gentlemen’s agreement a number of us had in the recent cotton +corner. I suppose the Government would like to have it. But—here’s the point. +If it is so easy to get in and get away, no one in Bluffwood is safe.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, he robbed the Montgomery Carter place the other night,” remarked Mrs. +Verplanck, “and almost got a lot of old Mrs. Carter’s jewels as well as stuff +belonging to her son, Montgomery, Junior. That was the first robbery. Mr. +Carter, that is Junior—Monty, everyone calls him—and his chauffeur almost +captured the fellow, but he managed to escape in the woods.” +</p> + +<p> +“In the woods?” repeated Craig. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Verplanck nodded. “But they saved the loot he was about to take.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no one is safe any more,” reiterated Verplanck. “Carter seems to be the +only one who has had a real chance at him, and he was able to get away neatly.” +</p> + +<p> +“But he’s not the only one who got off without a loss,” she put in +significantly. “The last visit—” Then she paused. +</p> + +<p> +“Where was the last attempt?” asked Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +“At the house of Mrs. Hollingsworth—around the point on this side of the bay. +You can’t see it from here.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’d like to go there,” remarked Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +“Very well. Car or boat?” +</p> + +<p> +“Boat, I think.” +</p> + +<p> +“Suppose we go in my little runabout, the <i>Streamline II</i>? She’s as fast +as any ordinary automobile.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very good. Then we can get an idea of the harbor.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll telephone first that we are coming,” said Verplanck. +</p> + +<p> +“I think I’ll go, too,” considered Mrs. Verplanck, ringing for a heavy wrap. +</p> + +<p> +“Just as you please,” said Verplanck. +</p> + +<p> +The <i>Streamline</i> was a three-stepped boat which. Verplanck had built for +racing, a beautiful craft, managed much like a racing automobile. As she +started from the dock, the purring drone of her eight cylinders sent her +feathering over the waves like a skipping stone. She sank back into the water, +her bow leaping upward, a cloud of spray in her wake, like a waterspout. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Hollingsworth was a wealthy divorcée, living rather quietly with her two +children, of whom the courts had awarded her the care. She was a striking +woman, one of those for whom the new styles of dress seem especially to have +been designed. I gathered, however, that she was not on very good terms with +the little Westport clique in which the Verplancks moved, or at least not with +Mrs. Verplanck. The two women seemed to regard each other rather coldly, I +thought, although Mr. Verplanck, man-like, seemed to scorn any distinctions and +was more than cordial. I wondered why Mrs. Verplanck had come. +</p> + +<p> +The Hollingsworth house was a beautiful little place down the bay from the +Yacht Club, but not as far as Verplanck’s, or the Carter estate, which was +opposite. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” replied Mrs. Hollingsworth when the reason for our visit had been +explained, “the attempt was a failure. I happened to be awake, rather late, or +perhaps you would call it early. I thought I heard a noise as if some one was +trying to break into the drawing-room through the window. I switched on all the +lights. I have them arranged so for just that purpose of scaring off intruders. +Then, as I looked out of my window on the second floor, I fancied I could see a +dark figure slink into the shadow of the shrubbery at the side of the house. +Then there was a whirr. It might have been an automobile, although it sounded +differently from that—more like a motor boat. At any rate, there was no trace +of a car that we could discover in the morning. The road had been oiled, too, +and a car would have left marks. And yet some one was here. There were marks on +the drawing-room window just where I heard the sounds.” +</p> + +<p> +Who could it be? I asked myself as we left. I knew that the great army of +chauffeurs was infested with thieves, thugs and gunmen. Then, too, there were +maids, always useful as scouts for these corsairs who prey on the rich. Yet so +adroitly had everything been done in these cases that not a clue seemed to have +been left behind by which to trace the thief. +</p> + +<p> +We returned to Verplanck’s in the <i>Streamline</i> in record time, dined, and +then found McNeill, a local detective, waiting to add his quota of information. +McNeill was of the square-toed, double-chinned, bull-necked variety, just the +man to take along if there was any fighting. He had, however, very little to +add to the solution of the mystery, apparently believing in the +chauffeur-and-maid theory. +</p> + +<p> +It was too late to do anything more that night, and we sat on the Verplanck +porch, overlooking the beautiful harbor. It was a black, inky night, with no +moon, one of those nights when the myriad lights on the boats were mere points +in the darkness. As we looked out over the water, considering the case which as +yet we had hardly started on, Kennedy seemed engrossed in the study in black. +</p> + +<p> +“I thought I saw a moving light for an instant across the bay, above the boats, +and as though it were in the darkness of the hills on the other side. Is there +a road over there, above the Carter house?” he asked suddenly. +</p> + +<p> +“There is a road part of the way on the crest of the hill,” replied Mrs. +Verplanck. “You can see a car on it, now and then, through the trees, like a +moving light.” +</p> + +<p> +“Over there, I mean,” reiterated Kennedy, indicating the light as it flashed +now faintly, then disappeared, to reappear further along, like a gigantic +firefly in the night. +</p> + +<p> +“N-no,” said Verplanck. “I don’t think the road runs down as far as that. It is +further up the bay.” +</p> + +<p> +“What is it then?” asked Kennedy, half to himself. “It seems to be traveling +rapidly. Now it must be about opposite the Carter house. There—it has gone.” +</p> + +<p> +We continued to watch for several minutes, but it did not reappear. Could it +have been a light on the mast of a boat moving rapidly up the bay and perhaps +nearer to us than we suspected? Nothing further happened, however, and we +retired early, expecting to start with fresh minds on the case in the morning. +Several watchmen whom Verplanck employed both on the shore and along the +driveways were left guarding every possible entrance to the estate. +</p> + +<p> +Yet the next morning as we met in the cheery east breakfast room, Verplanck’s +gardener came in, hat in hand, with much suppressed excitement. +</p> + +<p> +In his hand he held an orange which he had found in the shrubbery underneath +the windows of the house. In it was stuck a long nail and to the nail was +fastened a tag. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy read it quickly. +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“If this had been a bomb, you and your detectives would never have known what +struck you. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +“A<small>QUAERO</small>.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap05"></a>CHAPTER V<br/> +THE ULTRA-VIOLET RAY</h2> + +<p> +“Good Gad, man!” exclaimed Verplanck, who had read it over Craig’s shoulder. +“What do you make of <i>that?</i>” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy merely shook his head. Mrs. Verplanck was the calmest of all. +</p> + +<p> +“The light,” I cried. “You remember the light? Could it have been a signal to +some one on this side of the bay, a signal light in the woods?” +</p> + +<p> +“Possibly,” commented Kennedy absently, adding, “Robbery with this fellow seems +to be an art as carefully strategized as a promoter’s plan or a merchant’s +trade campaign. I think I’ll run over this morning and see if there is any +trace of anything on the Carter estate.” +</p> + +<p> +Just then the telephone rang insistently. It was McNeill, much excited, though +he had not heard of the orange incident. Verplanck answered the call. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you heard the news?” asked McNeill. “They report this morning that that +fellow must have turned up last night at Belle Aire.” +</p> + +<p> +“Belle Aire? Why, man, that’s fifty miles away and on the other side of the +island. He was here last night,” and Verplanck related briefly the find of the +morning. “No boat could get around the island in that time and as for a +car—those roads are almost impossible at night.” +</p> + +<p> +“Can’t help it,” returned McNeill doggedly. “The Halstead estate out at Belle +Aire was robbed last night. It’s spooky all right.” +</p> + +<p> +“Tell McNeill I want to see him—will meet him in the village directly,” cut in +Craig before Verplanck had finished. +</p> + +<p> +We bolted a hasty breakfast and in one of Verplanck’s cars hurried to meet +McNeill. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you intend doing?” he asked helplessly, as Kennedy finished his +recital of the queer doings of the night before. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m going out now to look around the Carter place. Can you come along?” +</p> + +<p> +“Surely,” agreed McNeill, climbing into the car. “You know him?” +</p> + +<p> +“No.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then I’ll introduce you. Queer chap, Carter. He’s a lawyer, although I don’t +think he has much practice, except managing his mother’s estate.” +</p> + +<p> +McNeill settled back in the luxurious car with an exclamation of satisfaction. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you think of Verplanck?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“He seems to me to be a very public-spirited man,” answered Kennedy discreetly. +</p> + +<p> +That, however, was not what McNeill meant and he ignored it. And so for the +next ten minutes we were entertained with a little retail scandal of Westport +and Bluffwood, including a tale that seemed to have gained currency that +Verplanck and Mrs. Hollingsworth were too friendly to please Mrs. Verplanck. I +set the whole thing down to the hostility and jealousy of the towns people who +misinterpret everything possible in the smart set, although I could not help +recalling how quickly she had spoken when we had visited the Hollingsworth +house in the <i>Streamline</i> the day before. +</p> + +<p> +Montgomery Carter happened to be at home and, at least openly, interposed no +objection to our going about the grounds. +</p> + +<p> +“You see,” explained Kennedy, watching the effect of his words as if to note +whether Carter himself had noticed anything unusual the night before, “we saw a +light moving over here last night. To tell the truth, I half expected you would +have a story to add to ours, of a second visit.” +</p> + +<p> +Carter smiled. “No objection at all. I’m simply nonplussed at the nerve of this +fellow, coming back again. I guess you’ve heard what a narrow squeak he had +with me. You’re welcome to go anywhere, just so long as you don’t disturb my +study down there in the boathouse. I use that because it overlooks the bay—just +the place to study over knotty legal problems.” +</p> + +<p> +Back of, or in front of the Carter house, according as you fancied it faced the +bay or not, was the boathouse, built by Carter’s father, who had been a great +yachtsman in his day and commodore of the club. His son had not gone in much +for water sports and had converted the corner underneath a sort of observation +tower into a sort of country law office. +</p> + +<p> +“There has always seemed to me to be something strange about that boathouse +since the old man died,” remarked McNeill in a half whisper as we left Carter. +“He always keeps it locked and never lets anyone go in there, although they say +he has it fitted beautifully with hundreds of volumes of law books, too.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy had been climbing the hill back of the house and now paused to look +about. Below was the Carter garage. +</p> + +<p> +“By the way,” exclaimed McNeill, as if he had at last hit on a great discovery, +“Carter has a new chauffeur, a fellow named Wickham. I just saw him driving +down to the village. He’s a chap that it might pay us to watch—a newcomer, +smart as a steel trap, they say, but not much of a talker.” +</p> + +<p> +“Suppose you take that job—watch him,” encouraged Kennedy. “We can’t know too +much about strangers here, McNeill.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s right,” agreed the detective. “I’ll follow him back to the village and +get a line on him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t be easily discouraged,” added Kennedy, as McNeill started down the hill +to the garage. “If he is a fox he’ll try to throw you off the trail. Hang on.” +</p> + +<p> +“What was that for?” I asked as the detective disappeared. “Did you want to get +rid of him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Partly,” replied Craig, descending slowly, after a long survey of the +surrounding country. +</p> + +<p> +We had reached the garage, deserted now except for our own car. +</p> + +<p> +“I’d like to investigate that tower,” remarked Kennedy with a keen look at me, +“if it could be done without seeming to violate Mr. Carter’s hospitality.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” I observed, my eye catching a ladder beside the garage, “there’s a +ladder. We can do no more than try.” +</p> + +<p> +He walked over to the automobile, took a little package out, slipped it into +his pocket, and a few minutes later we had set the ladder up against the side +of the boathouse farthest away from the house. It was the work of only a moment +for Kennedy to scale it and prowl across the roof to the tower, while I stood +guard at the foot. +</p> + +<p> +“No one has been up there recently,” he panted breathlessly as he rejoined me. +“There isn’t a sign.” +</p> + +<p> +We took the ladder quietly back to the garage, then Kennedy led the way down +the shore to a sort of little summerhouse cut off from the boathouse and garage +by the trees, though over the top of a hedge one could still see the boathouse +tower. +</p> + +<p> +We sat down, and Craig filled his lungs with the good salt air, sweeping his +eye about the blue and green panorama as though this were a holiday and not a +mystery case. +</p> + +<p> +“Walter,” he said at length, “I wish you’d take the car and go around to +Verplanck’s. I don’t think you can see the tower through the trees, but I +should like to be sure.” +</p> + +<p> +I found that it could not be seen, though I tried all over the place and got +myself disliked by the gardener and suspected by a watchman with a dog. +</p> + +<p> +It could not have been from the tower of the boathouse that we had seen the +light, and I hurried back to Craig to tell him so. But when I returned, I found +that he was impatiently pacing the little rustic summerhouse, no longer +interested in what he had sent me to find out. +</p> + +<p> +“What has happened?” I asked eagerly. +</p> + +<p> +“Just come out here and I’ll show you something,” he replied, leaving the +summerhouse and approaching the boathouse from the other side of the hedge, on +the beach, so that the house itself cut us off from observation from Carter’s. +</p> + +<p> +“I fixed a lens on the top of that tower when I was up there,” he explained, +pointing up at it. “It must be about fifty feet high. From there, you see, it +throws a reflection down to this mirror. I did it because through a skylight in +the tower I could read whatever was written by anyone sitting at Carter’s desk +in the corner under it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Read?” I repeated, mystified. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, by invisible light,” he continued. “This invisible light business, you +know, is pretty well understood by this time. I was only repeating what was +suggested once by Professor Wood of Johns Hopkins. Practically all sources of +light, you understand, give out more or less ultraviolet light, which plays no +part in vision whatever. The human eye is sensitive to but few of the light +rays that reach it, and if our eyes were constituted just the least bit +differently we should have an entirely different set of images. +</p> + +<p> +“But by the use of various devices we can, as it were, translate these +ultraviolet rays into terms of what the human eye can see. In order to do it, +all the visible light rays which show us the thing as we see it—the tree green, +the sky blue—must be cut off. So in taking an ultraviolet photograph a screen +must be used which will be opaque to these visible rays and yet will let the +ultraviolet rays through to form the image. That gave Professor Wood a lot of +trouble. Glass won’t do, for glass cuts off the ultraviolet rays entirely. +Quartz is a very good medium, but it does not cut off all the visible light. In +fact there is only one thing that will do the work, and that is metallic +silver.” +</p> + +<p> +I could not fathom what he was driving at, but the fascination of Kennedy +himself was quite sufficient. +</p> + +<p> +“Silver,” he went on, “is all right if the objects can be illuminated by an +electric spark or some other source rich in the rays. But it isn’t entirely +satisfactory when sunlight is concerned, for various reasons that I need not +bore you with. Professor Wood has worked out a process of depositing nickel on +glass. That’s it up there,” he concluded, wheeling a lower reflector about +until it caught the image of the afternoon sun thrown from the lens on the top +of the tower. +</p> + +<p> +“You see,” he resumed, “that upper lens is concave so that it enlarges +tremendously. I can do some wonderful tricks with that.” +</p> + +<p> +I had been lighting a cigarette and held a box of safety wind matches in my +hand. +</p> + +<p> +“Give me that matchbox,” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +He placed it at the foot of the tower. Then he went off, I should say, without +exaggeration, a hundred feet. +</p> + +<p> +The lettering on the matchbox could be seen in the silvered mirror, enlarged to +such a point that the letters were plainly visible! +</p> + +<p> +“Think of the possibilities in that,” he added excitedly. “I saw them at once. +You can read what some one is writing at a desk a hundred, perhaps two hundred +feet away.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” I cried, more interested in the practical aspects of it than in the +mechanics and optics. “What have you found?” +</p> + +<p> +“Some one came into the boathouse while you were away,” he said. “He had a +note. It read, ‘Those new detectives are watching everything. We must have the +evidence. You must get those letters to-night, without fail.’” +</p> + +<p> +“Letters—evidence,” I repeated. “Who wrote it? Who received it?” +</p> + +<p> +“I couldn’t see over the hedge who had entered the boathouse, and by the time I +got around here he was gone.” +</p> + +<p> +“Was it Wickham—or intended for Wickham?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy shrugged his shoulders. +</p> + +<p> +“We’ll gain nothing by staying here,” he said. “There is just one possibility +in the case, and I can guard against that only by returning to Verplanck’s and +getting some of that stuff I brought up here with me. Let us go.” +</p> + +<p> +Late in the afternoon though it was, after our return, Kennedy insisted on +hurrying from Verplanck’s to the Yacht Club up the bay. It was a large +building, extending out into the water on made land, from which ran a long, +substantial dock. He had stopped long enough only to ask Verplanck to lend him +the services of his best mechanician, a Frenchman named Armand. +</p> + +<p> +On the end of the yacht club dock Kennedy and Armand set up a large affair +which looked like a mortar. I watched curiously, dividing my attention between +them and the splendid view of the harbor which the end of the dock commanded on +all sides. +</p> + +<p> +“What is this?” I asked finally. “Fireworks?” +</p> + +<p> +“A rocket mortar of light weight,” explained Kennedy, then dropped into French +as he explained to Armand the manipulation of the thing. +</p> + +<p> +There was a searchlight near by on the dock. +</p> + +<p> +“You can use that?” queried Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes. Mr. Verplanck, he is vice-commodore of the club. Oh, yes, I can use +that. Why, Monsieur?” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy had uncovered a round brass case. It did not seem to amount to much, as +compared to some of the complicated apparatus he had used. In it was a +four-sided prism of glass—I should have said, cut off the corner of a huge +glass cube. +</p> + +<p> +He handed it to us. +</p> + +<p> +“Look in it,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +It certainly was about the most curious piece of crystal gazing I had ever +done. Turn the thing any way I pleased and I could see my face in it, just as +in an ordinary mirror. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you call it?” Armand asked, much interested. +</p> + +<p> +“A triple mirror,” replied Kennedy, and again, half in English and half in +French, neither of which I could follow, he explained the use of the mirror to +the mechanician. +</p> + +<p> +We were returning up the dock, leaving Armand with instructions to be at the +club at dusk, when we met McNeill, tired and disgusted. +</p> + +<p> +“What luck?” asked Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing,” he returned. “I had a ‘short’ shadow and a ‘long’ shadow at +Wickham’s heels all day. You know what I mean. Instead of one man, two—the +second sleuthing in the other’s tracks. If he escaped Number One, Number Two +would take it up, and I was ready to move up into Number Two’s place. They kept +him in sight about all the time. Not a fact. But then, of course, we don’t know +what he was doing before we took up tailing him. Say,” he added, “I have just +got word from an agency with which I correspond in New York that it is reported +that a yeggman named ‘Australia Mac,’ a very daring and clever chap, has been +attempting to dispose of some of the goods which we know have been stolen +through one of the worst ‘fences’ in New York.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is that all?” asked Craig, with the mention of Australia Mac showing the first +real interest yet in anything that McNeill had done since we met him the night +before. +</p> + +<p> +“All so far. I wired for more details immediately.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know anything about this Australia Mac?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not much. No one does. He’s a new man, it seems, to the police here.” +</p> + +<p> +“Be here at eight o’clock, McNeill,” said Craig, as we left the club for +Verplanck’s. “If you can find out more about this yeggman, so much the better.” +</p> + +<p> +“Have you made any progress?” asked Verplanck as we entered the estate a few +minutes later. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” returned Craig, telling only enough to whet his interest. “There’s a +clue, as I half expected, from New York, too. But we are so far away that we’ll +have to stick to my original plan. You can trust Armand?” +</p> + +<p> +“Absolutely.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then we shall transfer our activity to the Yacht Club to-night,” was all that +Kennedy vouchsafed. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap06"></a>CHAPTER VI<br/> +THE TRIPLE MIRROR</h2> + +<p> +It was the regular Saturday night dance at the club, a brilliant spectacle, +faces that radiated pleasure, gowns that for startling combinations of color +would have shamed a Futurist, music that set the feet tapping irresistibly—a +scene which I shall pass over because it really has no part in the story. +</p> + +<p> +The fascination of the ballroom was utterly lost on Craig. “Think of all the +houses only half guarded about here to-night,” he mused, as we joined Armand +and McNeill on the end of the dock. I could not help noting that that was the +only idea which the gay, variegated, sparkling tango throng conveyed to him. +</p> + +<p> +In front of the club was strung out a long line of cars, and at the dock +several speed boats of national and international reputation, among them the +famous <i>Streamline II</i>, at our instant beck and call. In it Craig had +already placed some rather bulky pieces of apparatus, as well as a brass case +containing a second triple mirror like that which he had left with Armand. +</p> + +<p> +With McNeill, I walked back along the pier, leaving Kennedy with Armand, until +we came to the wide porch, where we joined the wallflowers and the +rocking-chair fleet. Mrs. Verplanck, I observed, was a beautiful dancer. I +picked her out in the throng immediately, dancing with Carter. +</p> + +<p> +McNeill tugged at my sleeve. Without a word I saw what he meant me to see. +Verplanck and Mrs. Hollingsworth were dancing together. Just then, across the +porch I caught sight of Kennedy at one of the wide windows. He was trying to +attract Verplanck’s attention, and as he did so I worked my way through the +throng of chatting couples leaving the floor until I reached him. Verplanck, +oblivious, finished the dance; then, seeming to recollect that he had something +to attend to, caught sight of us, and ran off during the intermission from the +gay crowd to which he resigned Mrs. Hollingsworth. +</p> + +<p> +“What is it?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s that light down the bay,” whispered Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +Instantly Verplanck forgot about the dance. +</p> + +<p> +“Where?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“In the same place.” +</p> + +<p> +I had not noticed, but Mrs. Verplanck, woman-like, had been able to watch +several things at once. She had seen us and had joined us. +</p> + +<p> +“Would you like to run down there in the <i>Streamline?</i>” he asked. “It will +only take a few minutes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very much.” +</p> + +<p> +“What is it—that light again?” she asked, as she joined us in walking down the +dock. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” answered her husband, pausing to look for a moment at the stuff Kennedy +had left with Armand. Mrs. Verplanck leaned over the <i>Streamline</i>, turned +as she saw me, and said: “I wish I could go with you. But evening dress is not +the thing for a shivery night in a speed boat. I think I know as much about it +as Mr. Verplanck. Are you going to leave Armand?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” replied Kennedy, taking his place beside Verplanck, who was seated at +the steering wheel. “Walter and McNeill, if you two will sit back there, we’re +ready. All right.” +</p> + +<p> +Armand had cast us off and Mrs. Verplanck waved from the end of the float as +the <i>Streamline</i> quickly shot out into the night, a buzzing, throbbing +shape of mahogany and brass, with her exhausts sticking out like funnels and +booming like a pipe organ. It took her only seconds to eat into the miles. +</p> + +<p> +“A little more to port,” said Kennedy, as Verplanck swung her around. +</p> + +<p> +Just then the steady droning of the engine seemed a bit less rhythmical. +Verplanck throttled her down, but it had no effect. He shut her off. Something +was wrong. As he crawled out into the space forward of us where the engine was, +it seemed as if the <i>Streamline</i> had broken down suddenly and completely. +</p> + +<p> +Here we were floundering around in the middle of the bay. +</p> + +<p> +“Chuck-chuck-chuck,” came in quick staccato out of the night. It was Montgomery +Carter, alone, on his way across the bay from the club, in his own boat. +</p> + +<p> +“Hello—Carter,” called Verplanck. +</p> + +<p> +“Hello, Verplanck. What’s the matter?” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t know. Engine trouble of some kind. Can you give us a line?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve got to go down to the house,” he said, ranging up near us. “Then I can +take you back. Perhaps I’d better get you out of the way of any other boats +first. You don’t mind going over and then back?” +</p> + +<p> +Verplanck looked at Craig. “On the contrary,” muttered Craig, as he made fast +the welcome line. +</p> + +<p> +The Carter dock was some three miles from the club on the other side of the +bay. As we came up to it, Carter shut off his engine, bent over it a moment, +made fast, and left us with a hurried, “Wait here.” +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly, overhead, we heard a peculiar whirring noise that seemed to vibrate +through the air. Something huge, black, monster-like, slid down a board runway +into the water, traveled a few feet, in white suds and spray, rose in the +darkness—and was gone! +</p> + +<p> +As the thing disappeared, I thought I could hear a mocking laugh flung back at +us. +</p> + +<p> +“What is it?” I asked, straining my eyes at what had seemed for an instant like +a great flying fish with finny tail and huge fins at the sides and above. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Aquaero,’” quoted Kennedy quickly. “Don’t you understand—a hydroaeroplane—a +flying boat. There are hundreds of privately owned flying boats now wherever +there is navigable water. That was the secret of Carter’s boathouse, of the +light we saw in the air.” +</p> + +<p> +“But this Aquaero—who is he?” persisted McNeill. “Carter—Wickham—Australia +Mac?” +</p> + +<p> +We looked at each other blankly. No one said a word. We were captured, just as +effectively as if we were ironed in a dungeon. There were the black water, the +distant lights, which at any other time I should have said would have been +beautiful. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy had sprung into Carter’s boat. +</p> + +<p> +“The deuce,” he exclaimed. “He’s put her out of business.” +</p> + +<p> +Verplanck, chagrined, had been going over his own engine feverishly. “Do you +see that?” he asked suddenly, holding up in the light of a lantern a little nut +which he had picked out of the complicated machinery. “It never belonged to +this engine. Some one placed it there, knowing it would work its way into a +vital part with the vibration.” +</p> + +<p> +Who was the person, the only one who could have done it? The answer was on my +lips, but I repressed it. Mrs. Verplanck herself had been bending over the +engine when last I saw her. All at once it flashed over me that she knew more +about the phantom bandit than she had admitted. Yet what possible object could +she have had in putting the <i>Streamline</i> out of commission? +</p> + +<p> +My mind was working rapidly, piecing together the fragmentary facts. The remark +of Kennedy, long before, instantly assumed new significance. What were the +possibilities of blackmail in the right sort of evidence? The yeggman had been +after what was more valuable than jewels—letters! Whose? Suddenly I saw the +situation. Carter had not been robbed at all. He was in league with the robber. +That much was a blind to divert suspicion. He was a lawyer—some one’s lawyer. I +recalled the message about letters and evidence, and as I did so there came to +mind a picture of Carter and the woman he had been dancing with. In return for +his inside information about the jewels of the wealthy homes of Bluffwood, the +yeggman was to get something of interest and importance to his client. +</p> + +<p> +The situation called for instant action. Yet what could we do, marooned on the +other side of the bay? +</p> + +<p> +From the Club dock a long finger of light swept out into the night, plainly +enough near the dock, but diffused and disclosing nothing in the distance. +Armand had trained it down the bay in the direction we had taken, but by the +time the beam reached us it was so weak that it was lost. +</p> + +<p> +Craig had leaped up on the Carter dock and was capping and uncapping with the +brass cover the package which contained the triple mirror. +</p> + +<p> +Still in the distance I could see the wide path of light, aimed toward us, but +of no avail. +</p> + +<p> +“What are you doing?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Using the triple mirror to signal to Armand. It is something better than +wireless. Wireless requires heavy and complicated apparatus. This is portable, +heatless, almost weightless, a source of light depending for its power on +another source of light at a great distance.” +</p> + +<p> +I wondered how Armand could ever detect its feeble ray. +</p> + +<p> +“Even in the case of a rolling ship,” Kennedy continued, alternately covering +and uncovering the mirror, “the beam of light which this mirror reflects always +goes back, unerring, to its source. It would do so from an aeroplane, so high +in the air that it could not be located. The returning beam is invisible to +anyone not immediately in the path of the ray, and the ray always goes to the +observer. It is simply a matter of pure mathematics practically applied. The +angle of incidence equals the angle of reflection. There is not a variation of +a foot in two miles.” +</p> + +<p> +“What message are you sending him?” asked Verplanck. +</p> + +<p> +“To tell Mrs. Hollingsworth to hurry home immediately,” Kennedy replied, still +flashing the letters according to his code. +</p> + +<p> +“Mrs. Hollingsworth?” repeated Verplanck, looking up. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. This hydroaeroplane yeggman is after something besides jewels to-night. +Were those letters that were stolen from you the only ones you had in the +safe?” +</p> + +<p> +Verplanck looked up quickly. “Yes, yes. Of course.” +</p> + +<p> +“You had none from a woman—” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” he almost shouted. Of a sudden it seemed to dawn on him what Kennedy was +driving at—the robbery of his own house with no loss except of a packet of +letters on business, followed by the attempt on Mrs. Hollingsworth. “Do you +think I’d keep dynamite, even in the safe?” +</p> + +<p> +To hide his confusion he had turned and was bending again over the engine. +</p> + +<p> +“How is it?” asked Kennedy, his signaling over. +</p> + +<p> +“Able to run on four cylinders and one propeller,” replied Verplanck. +</p> + +<p> +“Then let’s try her. Watch the engine. I’ll take the wheel.” +</p> + +<p> +Limping along, the engine skipping and missing, the once peerless +<i>Streamline</i> started back across the bay. Instead of heading toward the +club, Kennedy pointed her bow somewhere between that and Verplanck’s. +</p> + +<p> +“I wish Armand would get busy,” he remarked, after glancing now and then in the +direction of the club. “What can be the matter?” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you mean?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +There came the boom as if of a gun far away in the direction in which he was +looking, then another. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, there it is. Good fellow. I suppose he had to deliver my message to Mrs. +Hollingsworth himself first.” +</p> + +<p> +From every quarter showed huge balls of fire, rising from the sea, as it were, +with a brilliantly luminous flame. +</p> + +<p> +“What is it?” I asked, somewhat startled. +</p> + +<p> +“A German invention for use at night against torpedo and aeroplane attacks. +From that mortar Armand has shot half a dozen bombs of phosphide of calcium +which are hurled far into the darkness. They are so constructed that they float +after a short plunge and are ignited on contact by the action of the salt water +itself.” +</p> + +<p> +It was a beautiful pyrotechnic display, lighting up the shore and hills of the +bay as if by an unearthly flare. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s that thing now!” exclaimed Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +In the glow we could see a peculiar, birdlike figure flying through the air +over toward the Hollingsworth house. It was the hydroaeroplane. +</p> + +<p> +Out from the little stretch of lawn under the accentuated shadow of the trees, +she streaked into the air, swaying from side to side as the pilot operated the +stabilizers on the ends of the planes to counteract the puffs of wind off the +land. +</p> + +<p> +How could she ever be stopped? +</p> + +<p> +The <i>Streamline</i>, halting and limping, though she was, had almost crossed +the bay before the light bombs had been fired by Armand. Every moment brought +the flying boat nearer. +</p> + +<p> +She swerved. Evidently the pilot had seen us at last and realized who we were. +I was so engrossed watching the thing that I had not noticed that Kennedy had +given the wheel to Verplanck and was standing in the bow, endeavoring to sight +what looked like a huge gun. +</p> + +<p> +In rapid succession half a dozen shots rang out. I fancied I could almost hear +the ripping and tearing of the tough rubber-coated silken wings of the +hydroaeroplane as the wind widened the perforation the gun had made. +</p> + +<p> +She had not been flying high, but now she swooped down almost like a gull, +seeking to rest on the water. We were headed toward her now, and as the flying +boat sank I saw one of the passengers rise in his seat, swing his arm, and far +out something splashed in the bay. +</p> + +<p> +On the water, with wings helpless, the flying boat was no match for the +<i>Streamline</i> now. She struck at an acute angle, rebounded in the air for a +moment, and with a hiss skittered along over the waves, planing with the help +of her exhaust under the step of the boat. +</p> + +<p> +There she was, a hull, narrow, scow-bowed, like a hydroplane, with a long +pointed stern and a cockpit for two men, near the bow. There were two wide, +winglike planes, on a light latticework of wood covered with silk, trussed and +wired like a kite frame, the upper plane about five feet above the lower, which +was level with the boat deck. We could see the eight-cylindered engine which +drove a two-bladed wooden propeller, and over the stern were the air rudder and +the horizontal planes. There she was, the hobbled steed now of the phantom +bandit who had accomplished the seemingly impossible. +</p> + +<p> +In spite of everything, however, the flying boat reached the shore a trifle +ahead of us. As she did so both figures in her jumped, and one disappeared +quickly up the bank, leaving the other alone. +</p> + +<p> +“Verplanck, McNeill—get him,” cried Kennedy, as our own boat grated on the +beach. “Come, Walter, we’ll take the other one.” +</p> + +<p> +The man had seen that there was no safety in flight. Down the shore he stood, +without a hat, his hair blown pompadour by the wind. +</p> + +<p> +As we approached Carter turned superciliously, unbuttoning his bulky khaki life +preserver jacket. +</p> + +<p> +“Well?” he asked coolly. +</p> + +<p> +Not for a moment did Kennedy allow the assumed coolness to take him back, +knowing that Carter’s delay did not cover the retreat of the other man. +</p> + +<p> +“So,” Craig exclaimed, “you are the—the air pirate?” +</p> + +<p> +Carter disdained to reply. +</p> + +<p> +“It was you who suggested the millionaire households, full of jewels, silver +and gold, only half guarded; you, who knew the habits of the people; you, who +traded that information in return for another piece of thievery by your +partner, Australia Mac—Wickham he called himself here in Bluffwood. It was +you—-” +</p> + +<p> +A car drove up hastily, and I noted that we were still on the Hollingsworth +estate. Mrs. Hollingsworth had seen us and had driven over toward us. +</p> + +<p> +“Montgomery!” she cried, startled. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Kennedy quickly, “air pirate and lawyer for Mrs. Verplanck in the +suit which she contemplated bringing—” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Hollingsworth grew pale under the ghastly, flickering light from the bay. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh!” she cried, realizing at what Kennedy hinted, “the letters!” +</p> + +<p> +“At the bottom of the harbor, now,” said Kennedy. “Mr. Verplanck tells me he +has destroyed his. The past is blotted out as far as that is concerned. The +future is—for you three to determine. For the present I’ve caught a yeggman and +a blackmailer.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap07"></a>CHAPTER VII<br/> +THE WIRELESS WIRETAPPERS</h2> + +<p> +Kennedy did not wait at Bluffwood longer than was necessary. It was easy enough +now to silence Montgomery Carter, and the reconciliation of the Verplancks was +assured. In the <i>Star</i> I made the case appear at the time to involve +merely the capture of Australia Mac. +</p> + +<p> +When I dropped into the office the next day as usual, I found that I had +another assignment that would take me out on Long Island. The story looked +promising and I was rather pleased to get it. +</p> + +<p> +“Bound for Seaville, I’ll wager,” sounded a familiar voice in my ear, as I +hurried up to the train entrance at the Long Island corner of the Pennsylvania +Station. +</p> + +<p> +I turned quickly, to find Kennedy just behind me, breathless and perspiring. +</p> + +<p> +“Er—yes,” I stammered in surprise at seeing him so unexpectedly, “but where did +you come from? How did you know?” +</p> + +<p> +“Let me introduce Mr. Jack Waldon,” he went on, as we edged our way toward the +gate, “the brother of Mrs. Tracy Edwards, who disappeared so strangely from the +houseboat <i>Lucie</i> last night at Seaville. That is the case you’re going to +write up, isn’t it?” +</p> + +<p> +It was then for the first time that I noticed the excited young man beside +Kennedy was really his companion. +</p> + +<p> +I shook hands with Waldon, who gave me a grip that was both a greeting and an +added impulse in our general direction through the wicket. +</p> + +<p> +“Might have known the <i>Star</i> would assign you to this Edwards case,” +panted Kennedy, mopping his forehead, for the heat in the terminal was +oppressive and the crowd, though not large, was closely packed. “Mr. Jameson is +my right-hand man,” he explained to Waldon, taking us each by the arm and +urging us forward. “Waldon was afraid we might miss the train or I should have +tried to get you, Walter, at the office.” +</p> + +<p> +It was all done so suddenly that they quite took away what remaining breath I +had, as we settled ourselves to swelter in the smoker instead of in the +concourse. I did not even protest at the matter-of-fact assurance with which +Craig assumed that his deduction as to my destination was correct. +</p> + +<p> +Waldon, a handsome young fellow in a flannel suit and yachting cap somewhat the +worse for his evidently perturbed state of mind, seemed to eye me for the +moment doubtfully, in spite of Kennedy’s cordial greeting. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve had all the first editions of the evening papers,” I hinted as we sped +through the tunnel, “but the stories seemed to be quite the same—pretty meager +in details.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” returned Waldon with a glance at Kennedy, “I tried to keep as much out +of the papers as I could just now for Lucie’s sake.” +</p> + +<p> +“You needn’t fear Jameson,” remarked Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +He fumbled in his pocket, then paused a moment and shot a glance of inquiry at +Waldon, who nodded a mute acquiescence to him. +</p> + +<p> +“There seem to have been a number of very peculiar disappearances lately,” +resumed Kennedy, “but this case of Mrs. Edwards is by far the most +extraordinary. Of course the <i>Star</i> hasn’t had that—yet,” he concluded, +handing me a sheet of notepaper. +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Waldon didn’t give it out, hoping to avoid scandal.” +</p> + +<p> +I took the paper and read eagerly, in a woman’s hand: +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +“M<small>Y</small> D<small>EAR</small> M<small>ISS</small> F<small>OX</small>: +I have been down here at Seaville on our houseboat, the <i>Lucie</i>, for +several days for a purpose which now is accomplished. +</p> + +<p> +“Already I had my suspicions of you, from a source which I need not name. +Therefore, when the <i>Kronprinz</i> got into wireless communication with the +station at Seaville I determined through our own wireless on the <i>Lucie</i> +to overhear whether there would be any exchange of messages between my husband +and yourself. +</p> + +<p> +“I was able to overhear the whole thing and I want you to know that your secret +is no longer a secret from me, and that I have already told Mr. Edwards that I +know it. You ruin his life by your intimacy which you seem to want to keep up, +although you know you have no right to do it, but you shall not ruin mine. +</p> + +<p> +“I am thoroughly disillusioned now. I have not decided on what steps to take, +but—” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +Only a casual glance was necessary to show me that the writing seemed to grow +more and more weak as it progressed, and the note stopped abruptly, as if the +writer had been suddenly interrupted or some new idea had occurred to her. +</p> + +<p> +Hastily I tried to figure it out. Lucie Waldon, as everybody knew, was a famous +beauty, a marvel of charm and daintiness, slender, with big, soulful, wistful +eyes. Her marriage to Tracy Edwards, the wealthy plunger and stockbroker, had +been a great social event the year before, and it was reputed at the time that +Edwards had showered her with jewels and dresses to the wonder and talk even of +society. +</p> + +<p> +As for Valerie Fox, I knew she had won quick recognition and even fame as a +dancer in New York during the previous winter, and I recalled reading three or +four days before that she had just returned on the <i>Kronprinz</i> from a trip +abroad. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t suppose you have had time to see Miss Fox,” I remarked. “Where is +she?” +</p> + +<p> +“At Beach Park now, I think,” replied Waldon, “a resort a few miles nearer the +city on the south shore, where there is a large colony of actors.” +</p> + +<p> +I handed back the letter to Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you make of it?” he asked, as he folded it up and put it back into his +pocket. +</p> + +<p> +“I hardly know what to say,” I replied. “Of course there have been rumors, I +believe, that all was not exactly like a honeymoon still with the Tracy +Edwardses.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” returned Waldon slowly, “I know myself that there has been some trouble, +but nothing definite until I found this letter last night in my sister’s room. +She never said anything about it either to mother or myself. They haven’t been +much together during the summer, and last night when she disappeared Tracy was +in the city. But I hadn’t thought much about it before, for, of course, you +know he has large financial interests that make him keep in pretty close touch +with New York and this summer hasn’t been a particularly good one on the stock +exchange.” +</p> + +<p> +“And,” I put in, “a plunger doesn’t always make the best of husbands. Perhaps +there is temperament to be reckoned with here.” +</p> + +<p> +“There seem to be a good many things to be reckoned with,” Craig considered. +“For example, here’s a houseboat, the <i>Lucie</i>, a palatial affair, cruising +about aimlessly, with a beautiful woman on it. She gives a little party, in the +absence of her husband, to her brother, his fiancée and her mother, who visit +her from his yacht, the <i>Nautilus</i>. They break up, those living on the +<i>Lucie</i> going to their rooms and the rest back to the yacht, which is +anchored out further in the deeper water of the bay. +</p> + +<p> +“Some time in the middle of the night her maid, Juanita, finds that she is not +in her room. Her brother is summoned back from his yacht and finds that she has +left this pathetic, unfinished letter. But otherwise there is no trace of her. +Her husband is notified and hurries out there, but he can find no clue. +Meanwhile, Mr. Waldon, in despair, hurries down to the city to engage me +quietly.” +</p> + +<p> +“You remember I told you,” suggested Waldon, “that my sister hadn’t been +feeling well for several days. In fact it seemed that the sea air wasn’t doing +her much good, and some one last night suggested that she try the mountains.” +</p> + +<p> +“Had there been anything that would foreshadow the—er—disappearance?” asked +Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +“Only as I say, that for two or three days she seemed to be listless, to be +sinking by slow and easy stages into a sort of vacant, moody state of ill +health.” +</p> + +<p> +“She had a doctor, I suppose?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Dr. Jermyn, Tracy’s own personal physician came down from the city +several days ago.” +</p> + +<p> +“What did he say?” +</p> + +<p> +“He simply said that it was congestion of the lungs. As far as he could see +there was no apparent cause for it. I don’t think he was very enthusiastic +about the mountain air idea. The fact is he was like a good many doctors under +the circumstances, noncommittal—wanted her under observation, and all that sort +of thing.” +</p> + +<p> +“What’s your opinion?” I pressed Craig. “Do you think she has run away?” +</p> + +<p> +“Naturally, I’d rather not attempt to say yet,” Craig replied cautiously. “But +there are several possibilities. Yes, she might have left the houseboat in some +other boat, of course. Then there is the possibility of accident. It was a hot +night. She might have been leaning from the window and have lost her balance. I +have even thought of drugs, that she might have taken something in her +despondency and have fallen overboard while under the influence of it. Then, of +course, there are the two deductions that everyone has made already—either +suicide or murder.” +</p> + +<p> +Waldon had evidently been turning something over in his mind. +</p> + +<p> +“There was a wireless outfit aboard the houseboat,” he ventured at length. +</p> + +<p> +“What of that?” I asked, wondering why he was changing the subject so abruptly. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, only this,” he replied. “I have been reading about wireless a good deal +lately, and if the theories of some scientists are correct, the wireless age is +not without its dangers as well as its wonders. I recall reading not long ago +of a German professor who says there is no essential difference between +wireless waves and the X-rays, and we know the terrible physical effects of +X-rays. I believe he estimated that only one three hundred millionth part of +the electrical energy generated by sending a message from one station to +another near by is actually used up in transmitting the message. The rest is +dispersed in the atmosphere. There must be a good deal of such stray electrical +energy about Seaville. Isn’t it possible that it might hit some one somewhere +who was susceptible?” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy said nothing. Waldon’s was at least a novel idea, whether it was +plausible or not. The only way to test it out, as far as I could determine, was +to see whether it fitted with the facts after a careful investigation of the +case itself. +</p> + +<p> +It was still early in the day and the trains were not as crowded as they would +be later. Consequently our journey was comfortable enough and we found +ourselves at last at the little vine-covered station at Seaville. +</p> + +<p> +One could almost feel that the gay summer colony was in a state of subdued +excitement. As we left the quaint station and walked down the main street to +the town wharf where we expected some one would be waiting for us, it seemed as +if the mysterious disappearance of the beautiful Mrs. Edwards had put a damper +on the life of the place. In the hotels there were knots of people evidently +discussing the affair, for as we passed we could tell by their faces that they +recognized us. One or two bowed and would have joined us, if Waldon had given +any encouragement. But he did not stop, and we kept on down the street quickly. +</p> + +<p> +I myself began to feel the spell of mystery about the case as I had not felt it +among the distractions of the city. Perhaps I imagined it, but there even +seemed to be something strange about the houseboat which we could descry at +anchor far down the bay as we approached the wharf. +</p> + +<p> +We were met, as Waldon had arranged, by a high-powered runabout, the tender to +his own yacht, a slim little craft of mahogany and brass, driven like an +automobile, and capable of perhaps twenty-five or thirty miles an hour. We +jumped in and were soon skimming over the waters of the bay like a skipping +stone. +</p> + +<p> +It was evident that Waldon was much relieved at having been able to bring +assistance, in which he had as much confidence as he reposed in Kennedy. At any +rate it was something to be nearing the scene of action again. +</p> + +<p> +The <i>Lucie</i> was perhaps seventy feet long and a most attractive craft, +with a hull yachty in appearance and of a type which could safely make long +runs along the coast, a stanch, seaworthy boat, of course without the speed of +the regularly designed yacht, but more than making up in comfort for those on +board what was lost in that way. Waldon pointed out with obvious pride his own +trim yacht swinging gracefully at anchor a half mile or so away. +</p> + +<p> +As we approached the houseboat I looked her over carefully. One of the first +things I noticed was that there rose from the roof the primitive inverted V +aërial of a wireless telegraph. I thought immediately of the unfinished letter +and its contents, and shaded my eyes as I took a good look at the powerful +transatlantic station on the spit of sand perhaps three or four miles distant, +with its tall steel masts of the latest inverted L type and the cluster of +little houses below, in which the operators and the plant were. +</p> + +<p> +Waldon noticed what I was looking at, and remarked, “It’s a wonderful +station—and well worth a visit, if you have the time—one of the most powerful +on the coast, I understand.” +</p> + +<p> +“How did the <i>Lucie</i> come to be equipped with wireless?” asked Craig +quickly. “It’s a little unusual for a private boat.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Edwards had it done when she was built,” explained Waldon. “His idea was +to use it to keep in touch with the stock market on trips.” +</p> + +<p> +“And it has proved effective?” asked Craig. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes—that is, it was all right last winter when he went on a short cruise +down in Florida. This summer he hasn’t been on the boat long enough to use it +much.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who operates it?” +</p> + +<p> +“He used to hire a licensed operator, although I believe the engineer, +Pedersen, understands the thing pretty well and could use it if necessary.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you think it was Pedersen who used it for Mrs. Edwards?” asked Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +“I really don’t know,” confessed Waldon. “Pedersen denies absolutely that he +has touched the thing for weeks. I want you to quiz him. I wasn’t able to get +him to admit a thing.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap08"></a>CHAPTER VIII<br/> +THE HOUSEBOAT MYSTERY</h2> + +<p> +We had by this time swung around to the side of the houseboat. I realized as we +mounted the ladder that the marine gasoline engine had materially changed the +old-time houseboat from a mere scow or barge with a low flat house on it, +moored in a bay or river, and only with difficulty and expense towed from one +place to another. Now the houseboat was really a fair-sized yacht. +</p> + +<p> +The <i>Lucie</i> was built high in order to give plenty of accommodation for +the living quarters. The staterooms, dining rooms and saloon were really rooms, +with seven or eight feet of head room, and furnished just as one would find in +a tasteful and expensive house. +</p> + +<p> +Down in the hull, of course, was the gasoline motor which drove the propeller, +so that when the owner wanted a change of scene all that was necessary was to +get up anchor, start the motor and navigate the yacht-houseboat to some other +harbor. +</p> + +<p> +Edwards himself met us on the deck. He was a tall man, with a red face, a man +of action, of outdoor life, apparently a hard worker and a hard player. It was +quite evident that he had been waiting for the return of Waldon anxiously. +</p> + +<p> +“You find us considerably upset, Professor Kennedy,” he greeted Craig, as his +brother-in-law introduced us. +</p> + +<p> +Edwards turned and led the way toward the saloon. As he entered and bade us be +seated in the costly cushioned wicker chairs I noticed how sumptuously it was +furnished, and particularly its mechanical piano, its phonograph and the +splendid hardwood floor which seemed to invite one to dance in the cool breeze +that floated across from one set of open windows to the other. And yet in spite +of everything, there was that indefinable air of something lacking, as in a +house from which the woman is gone. +</p> + +<p> +“You were not here last night, I understand,” remarked Kennedy, taking in the +room at a glance. +</p> + +<p> +“Unfortunately, no,” replied Edwards, “Business has kept me with my nose pretty +close to the grindstone this summer. Waldon called me up in the middle of the +night, however, and I started down in my car, which enabled me to get here +before the first train. I haven’t been able to do a thing since I got here +except just wait—wait—wait. I confess that I don’t know what else to do. Waldon +seemed to think we ought to have some one down here—and I guess he was right. +Anyhow, I’m glad to see you.” +</p> + +<p> +I watched Edwards keenly. For the first time I realized that I had neglected to +ask Waldon whether he had seen the unfinished letter. The question was +unnecessary. It was evident that he had not. +</p> + +<p> +“Let me see, Waldon, if I’ve got this thing straight,” Edwards went on, pacing +restlessly up and down the saloon. “Correct me if I haven’t. Last night, as I +understand it, there was a sort of little family party here, you and Miss +Verrall and your mother from the <i>Nautilus</i>, and Mrs. Edwards and Dr. +Jermyn.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” replied Waldon with, I thought, a touch of defiance at the words “family +party.” He paused as if he would have added that the <i>Nautilus</i> would have +been more congenial, anyhow, then added, “We danced a little bit, all except +Lucie. She said she wasn’t feeling any too well.” +</p> + +<p> +Edwards had paused by the door. “If you’ll excuse me a minute,” he said, “I’ll +call Jermyn and Mrs. Edwards’ maid, Juanita. You ought to go over the whole +thing immediately, Professor Kennedy.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why didn’t you say anything about the letter to him?” asked Kennedy under his +breath. +</p> + +<p> +“What was the use?” returned Waldon. “I didn’t know how he’d take it. Besides, +I wanted your advice on the whole thing. Do you want to show it to him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps it’s just as well,” ruminated Kennedy. “It may be possible to clear +the thing up without involving anybody’s name. At any rate, some one is coming +down the passage this way.” +</p> + +<p> +Edwards entered with Dr. Jermyn, a clean-shaven man, youthful in appearance, +yet approaching middle age. I had heard of him before. He had studied several +years abroad and had gained considerable reputation since his return to +America. +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Jermyn shook hands with us cordially enough, made some passing comment on +the tragedy, and stood evidently waiting for us to disclose our hands. +</p> + +<p> +“You have been Mrs. Edwards’ physician for some time, I believe?” queried +Kennedy, fencing for an opening. +</p> + +<p> +“Only since her marriage,” replied the doctor briefly. +</p> + +<p> +“She hadn’t been feeling well for several days, had she?” ventured Kennedy +again. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” replied Dr. Jermyn quickly. “I doubt whether I can add much to what you +already know. I suppose Mr. Waldon has told you about her illness. The fact is, +I suppose her maid Juanita will be able to tell you really more than I can.” +</p> + +<p> +I could not help feeling that Dr. Jermyn showed a great deal of reluctance in +talking. +</p> + +<p> +“You have been with her several days, though, haven’t you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Four days, I think. She was complaining of feeling nervous and telegraphed me +to come down here. I came prepared to stay over night, but Mr. Edwards happened +to run down that day, too, and he asked me if I wouldn’t remain longer. My +practice in the summer is such that I can easily leave it with my assistant in +the city, so I agreed. Really, that is about all I can say. I don’t know yet +what was the matter with Mrs. Edwards, aside from the nervousness which seemed +to be of some time standing.” +</p> + +<p> +He stood facing us, thoughtfully stroking his chin, as a very pretty and petite +maid nervously entered and stood facing us in the doorway. +</p> + +<p> +“Come in, Juanita,” encouraged Edwards. “I want you to tell these gentlemen +just what you told me about discovering that Madame had gone—and anything else +that you may recall now.” +</p> + +<p> +“It was Juanita who discovered that Madame was gone, you know,” put in Waldon. +</p> + +<p> +“How did you discover it?” prompted Craig. +</p> + +<p> +“It was very hot,” replied the maid, “and often on hot nights I would come in +and fan Madame since she was so wakeful. Last night I went to the door and +knocked. There was no reply. I called to her, ‘Madame, madame.’ Still there was +no answer. The worst I supposed was that she had fainted. I continued to call.” +</p> + +<p> +“The door was locked?” inquired Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir. My call aroused the others on the boat. Dr. Jermyn came and he broke +open the door with his shoulder. But the room was empty. Madame was gone.” +</p> + +<p> +“How about the windows?” asked Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +“Open. They were always open these nights. Sometimes Madame would sit by the +window when there was not much breeze.” +</p> + +<p> +“I should like to see the room,” remarked Craig, with an inquiring glance at +Edwards. +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly,” he answered, leading the way down a corridor. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Edwards’ room was on the starboard side, with wide windows instead of +portholes. It was furnished magnificently and there was little about it that +suggested the nautical, except the view from the window. +</p> + +<p> +“The bed had not been slept in,” Edwards remarked as we looked about curiously. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy walked over quickly to the wide series of windows before which was a +leather-cushioned window seat almost level with the window, several feet above +the level of the water. It was by this window, evidently, that Juanita meant +that Mrs. Edwards often sat. It was a delightful position, but I could readily +see that it would be comparatively easy for anyone accidentally or purposely to +fall. +</p> + +<p> +“I think myself,” Waldon remarked to Kennedy, “that it must have been from the +open window that she made her way to the outside. It seems that all agree that +the door was locked, while the window was wide open.” +</p> + +<p> +“There had been no sound—no cry to alarm you?” shot out Kennedy suddenly to +Juanita. +</p> + +<p> +“No, sir, nothing. I could not sleep myself, and I thought of Madame.” +</p> + +<p> +“You heard nothing?” he asked of Dr. Jermyn. +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing until I heard the maid call,” he replied briefly. +</p> + +<p> +Mentally I ran over again Kennedy’s first list of possibilities—taken off by +another boat, accident, drugs, suicide, murder. +</p> + +<p> +Was there, I asked myself, sufficient reason for suicide? The letter seemed to +me to show too proud a spirit for that. In fact the last sentence seemed to +show that she was contemplating the surest method of revenge, rather than +surrender. As for accident, why should a person fall overboard from a large +houseboat into a perfectly calm harbor? Then, too, there had been no outcry. +Somehow, I could not seem to fit any of the theories in with the facts. +Evidently it was like many another case, one in which we, as yet, had +insufficient data for a conclusion. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly I recalled the theory that Waldon himself had advanced regarding the +wireless, either from the boat itself or from the wireless station. For the +moment, at least, it seemed plausible that she might have been seated at the +window, that she might have been affected by escaped wireless, or by +electrolysis. I knew that some physicians had described a disease which they +attributed to wireless, a sort of anemia with a marked diminution in the number +of red corpuscles in the blood, due partly to the over etherization of the air +by reason of the alternating currents used to generate the waves. +</p> + +<p> +“I should like now to inspect the little wireless plant you have here on the +<i>Lucie</i>,” remarked Kennedy. “I noticed the mast as we were approaching a +few minutes ago.” +</p> + +<p> +I had turned at the sound of his voice in time to catch Edwards and Dr. Jermyn +eyeing each other furtively. Did they know about the letter, after all, I +wondered? Was each in doubt about just how much the other knew? +</p> + +<p> +There was no time to pursue these speculations. “Certainly,” agreed Mr. Edwards +promptly, leading the way. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy seemed keenly interested in inspecting the little wireless plant, which +was of a curious type and not exactly like any that I had seen before. +</p> + +<p> +“Wireless apparatus,” he remarked, as he looked it over, “is divided into three +parts, the source of power whether battery or dynamo, the making and sending of +wireless waves, including the key, spark, condenser and tuning coil, and the +receiving apparatus, head telephones, antennae, ground and detector.” +</p> + +<p> +Pedersen, the engineer, came in while we were looking the plant over, but +seemed uncommunicative to all Kennedy’s efforts to engage him in conversation. +</p> + +<p> +“I see,” remarked Kennedy, “that it is a very compact system with facilities +for a quick change from one wave length to another.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” grunted Pedersen, as averse to talking, evidently, as others on the +<i>Lucie</i>. +</p> + +<p> +“Spark gap, quenched type,” I heard Kennedy mutter almost to himself, with a +view to showing Pedersen that he knew something about it. “Break system +relay—operator can overhear any interference while transmitting—transformation +by a single throw of a six-point switch which tunes the oscillating and open +circuits to resonance. Very clever—very efficient. By the way, Pedersen, are +you the only person aboard who can operate this?” +</p> + +<p> +“How should I know?” he answered almost surlily. +</p> + +<p> +“You ought to know, if anybody,” answered Kennedy unruffled. “I know that it +has been operated within the past few days.” +</p> + +<p> +Pedersen shrugged his shoulders. “You might ask the others aboard,” was all he +said. “Mr. Edwards pays me to operate it only for himself, when he has no other +operator.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy did not pursue the subject, evidently from fear of saying too much just +at present. +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder if there is anyone else who could have operated it,” said Waldon, as +we mounted again to the deck. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know,” replied Kennedy, pausing on the way up. “You haven’t a wireless +on the <i>Nautilus</i>, have you?” +</p> + +<p> +Waldon shook his head. “Never had any particular use for it myself,” he +answered. +</p> + +<p> +“You say that Miss Verrall and her mother have gone back to the city?” pursued +Kennedy, taking care that as before the others were out of earshot. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’d like to stay with you tonight, then,” decided Kennedy. “Might we go over +with you now? There doesn’t seem to be anything more I can do here, unless we +get some news about Mrs. Edwards.” +</p> + +<p> +Waldon seemed only too glad to agree, and no one on the <i>Lucie</i> insisted +on our staying. +</p> + +<p> +We arrived at the <i>Nautilus</i> a few minutes later, and while we were +lunching Kennedy dispatched the tender to the Marconi station with a note. +</p> + +<p> +It was early in the afternoon when the tender returned with several packages +and coils of wire. Kennedy immediately set to work on the <i>Nautilus</i> +stretching out some of the wire. +</p> + +<p> +“What is it you are planning?” asked Waldon, to whom every action of Kennedy +seemed to be a mystery of the highest interest. +</p> + +<p> +“Improvising my own wireless,” he replied, not averse to talking to the young +man to whom he seemed to have taken a fancy. “For short distances, you know, it +isn’t necessary to construct an aërial pole or even to use outside wires to +receive messages. All that is needed is to use just a few wires stretched +inside a room. The rest is just the apparatus.” +</p> + +<p> +I was quite as much interested as Waldon. “In wireless,” he went on, “the +signals are not sent in one direction, but in all, so that a person within +range of the ethereal disturbance can get them if only he has the necessary +receiving apparatus. This apparatus need not be so elaborate and expensive as +used to be thought needful if a sensitive detector is employed, and I have sent +over to the station for a new piece of apparatus which I knew they had in +almost any Marconi station. Why, I’ve got wireless signals using only twelve +feet of number eighteen copper wire stretched across a room and grounded with a +water pipe. You might even use a wire mattress on an iron bedstead.” +</p> + +<p> +“Can’t they find out by—er, interference?” I asked, repeating the term I had so +often heard. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy laughed. “No, not for radio apparatus which merely receives radiograms +and is not equipped for sending. I am setting up only one side of a wireless +outfit here. All I want to do is to hear what is being said. I don’t care about +saying anything.” +</p> + +<p> +He unwrapped another package which had been loaned to him by the radio station +and we watched him curiously as he tested it and set it up. Some parts of it I +recognized such as the very sensitive microphone, and another part I could have +sworn was a phonograph cylinder, though Craig was so busy testing his apparatus +that now we could not ask questions. +</p> + +<p> +It was late in the afternoon when he finished, and we had just time to run up +to the dock at Seaville and stop off at the <i>Lucie</i> to see if anything had +happened in the intervening hours before dinner. There was nothing, except that +I found time to file a message to the <i>Star</i> and meet several fellow +newspaper men who had been sent down by other papers on the chance of picking +up a good story. +</p> + +<p> +We had the <i>Nautilus</i> to ourselves, and as she was a very comfortable +little craft, we really had a very congenial time, a plunge over her side, a +good dinner, and then a long talk out on deck under the stars, in which we went +over every phase of the case. As we discussed it, Waldon followed keenly, and +it was quite evident from his remarks that he had come to the conclusion that +Dr. Jermyn at least knew more than he had told about the case. +</p> + +<p> +Still, the day wore away with no solution yet of the mystery. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap09"></a>CHAPTER IX<br/> +THE RADIO DETECTIVE</h2> + +<p> +It was early the following morning when a launch drew up beside the +<i>Nautilus</i>. In it were Edwards and Dr. Jermyn, wildly excited. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s the matter?” called out Waldon. +</p> + +<p> +“They—they have found the body,” Edwards blurted out. +</p> + +<p> +Waldon paled and clutched the rail. He had thought the world of his sister, and +not until the last moment had he given up hope that perhaps she might be found +to have disappeared in some other way than had become increasingly evident. +</p> + +<p> +“Where?” cried Kennedy. “Who?” +</p> + +<p> +“Over on Ten Mile Beach,” answered Edwards. “Some fishermen who had been out on +a cruise and hadn’t heard the story. They took the body to town, and there it +was recognized. They sent word out to us immediately.” +</p> + +<p> +Waldon had already spun the engine of his tender, which was about the fastest +thing afloat about Seaville, had taken Edwards over, and we were off in a cloud +of spray, the nose of the boat many inches above the surface of the water. +</p> + +<p> +In the little undertaking establishment at Seaville lay the body of the +beautiful young matron about whom so much anxiety had been felt. I could not +help thinking what an end was this for the incomparable beauty. At the very +height of her brief career the poor little woman’s life had been suddenly +snuffed out. But by what? The body had been found, but the mystery had been far +from solved. +</p> + +<p> +As Kennedy bent over the body, I heard him murmur to himself, “She had +everything—everything except happiness.” +</p> + +<p> +“Was it drowning that caused her death?” asked Kennedy of the local doctor, who +also happened to be coroner and had already arrived on the scene. +</p> + +<p> +The doctor shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said doubtfully. “There was +congestion of the lungs—but I—I can’t say but what she might have been dead +before she fell or was thrown into the water.” +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Jermyn stood on one side, now and then putting in a word, but for the most +part silent unless spoken to. Kennedy, however, was making a most minute +examination. +</p> + +<p> +As he turned the beautiful head, almost reverently, he saw something that +evidently attracted his attention. I was standing next to him and, between us, +I think we cut off the view of the others. There on the back of the neck, +carefully, had been smeared something transparent, almost skin-like, which had +easily escaped the attention of the rest. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy tried to pick it off, but only succeeded in pulling off a very minute +piece to which the flesh seemed to adhere. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s queer,” he whispered to me. “Water, naturally, has no effect on it, +else it would have been washed off long before. Walter,” he added, “just slip +across the street quietly to the drug store and get me a piece of gauze soaked +with acetone.” +</p> + +<p> +As quickly and unostentatiously as I could I did so and handed him the wet +cloth, contriving at the same time to add Waldon to our barrier, for I could +see that Kennedy was anxious to be observed as little as possible. +</p> + +<p> +“What is it?” I whispered, as he rubbed the transparent skin-like stuff off, +and dropped the gauze into his pocket. +</p> + +<p> +“A sort of skin varnish,” he remarked under his breath, “waterproof and so +adhesive that it resists pulling off even with a knife without taking the +cuticle with it.” +</p> + +<p> +Beneath, as the skin varnish slowly dissolved under his gentle rubbing, he had +disclosed several very small reddish spots, like little cuts that had been made +by means of a very sharp instrument. As he did so, he gave them a hasty glance, +turned the now stony beautiful head straight again, stood up, and resumed his +talk with the coroner, who was evidently getting more and more bewildered by +the case. +</p> + +<p> +Edwards, who had completed the arrangements with the undertaker for the care of +the body as soon as the coroner released it, seemed completely unnerved. +</p> + +<p> +“Jermyn,” he said to the doctor, as he turned away and hid his eyes, “I can’t +stand this. The undertaker wants some stuff from the—er—boat,” his voice broke +over the name which had been hers. “Will you get it for me? I’m going up to a +hotel here, and I’ll wait for you there. But I can’t go out to the boat—yet.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think Mr. Waldon will be glad to take you out in his tender,” suggested +Kennedy. “Besides, I feel that I’d like a little fresh air as a bracer, too, +after such a shock.” +</p> + +<p> +“What were those little cuts?” I asked as Waldon and Dr. Jermyn preceded us +through the crowd outside to the pier. +</p> + +<p> +“Some one,” he answered in a low tone, “has severed the pneumogastric nerves.” +</p> + +<p> +“The pneumogastric nerves?” I repeated. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, the vagus or wandering nerve, the so-called tenth cranial nerve. Unlike +the other cranial nerves, which are concerned with the special senses or +distributed to the skin and muscles of the head and neck, the vagus, as its +name implies, strays downward into the chest and abdomen supplying branches to +the throat, lungs, heart and stomach and forms an important connecting link +between the brain and the sympathetic nervous system.” +</p> + +<p> +We had reached the pier, and a nod from Kennedy discouraged further +conversation on the subject. +</p> + +<p> +A few minutes later we had reached the <i>Lucie</i> and gone up over her side. +Kennedy waited until Jermyn had disappeared into the room of Mrs. Edwards to +get what the undertaker had desired. A moment and he had passed quietly into +Dr. Jermyn’s own room, followed by me. Several quick glances about told him +what not to waste time over, and at last his eye fell on a little portable case +of medicines and surgical instruments. He opened it quickly and took out a +bottle of golden yellow liquid. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy smelled it, then quickly painted some on the back of his hand. It dried +quickly, like an artificial skin. He had found a bottle of skin varnish in Dr. +Jermyn’s own medicine chest! +</p> + +<p> +We hurried back to the deck, and a few minutes later the doctor appeared with a +large package. +</p> + +<p> +“Did you ever hear of coating the skin by a substance which is impervious to +water, smooth and elastic?” asked Kennedy quietly as Waldon’s tender sped along +back to Seaville. +</p> + +<p> +“Why—er, yes,” he said frankly, raising his eyes and looking at Craig in +surprise. “There have been a dozen or more such substances. The best is one +which I use, made of pyroxylin, the soluble cotton of commerce, dissolved in +amyl acetate and acetone with some other substances that make it perfectly +sterile. Why do you ask?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because some one has used a little bit of it to cover a few slight cuts on the +back of the neck of Mrs. Edwards.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed?” he said simply, in a tone of mild surprise. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” pursued Kennedy. “They seem to me to be subcutaneous incisions of the +neck with a very fine scalpel dividing the two great pneumogastric nerves. Of +course you know what that would mean—the victim would pass away naturally by +slow and easy stages in three or four days, and all that would appear might be +congestion of the lungs. They are delicate little punctures and elusive nerves +to locate, but after all it might be done as painlessly, as simply and as +safely as a barber might remove some dead hairs. A country coroner might easily +pass over such evidence at an autopsy—especially if it was concealed by skin +varnish.” +</p> + +<p> +I was surprised at the frankness with which Kennedy spoke, but absolutely +amazed at the coolness of Jermyn. At first he said absolutely nothing. He +seemed to be as set in his reticence as he had been when we first met. +</p> + +<p> +I watched him narrowly. Waldon, who was driving the boat, had not heard what +was said, but I had, and I could not conceive how anyone could take it so +calmly. +</p> + +<p> +Finally Jermyn turned to Kennedy and looked him squarely in the eye. “Kennedy,” +he said slowly, “this is extraordinary—most extraordinary,” then, pausing, +added, “if true.” +</p> + +<p> +“There can be no doubt of the truth,” replied Kennedy, eyeing Dr. Jermyn just +as squarely. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you propose to do about it?” asked the doctor. +</p> + +<p> +“Investigate,” replied Kennedy simply. “While Waldon takes these things up to +the undertaker’s, we may as well wait here in the boat. I want him to stop on +the way back for Mr. Edwards. Then we shall go out to the <i>Lucie</i>. He must +go, whether he likes it or not.” +</p> + +<p> +It was indeed a most peculiar situation as Kennedy and I sat in the tender with +Dr. Jermyn waiting for Waldon to return with Edwards. Not a word was spoken. +</p> + +<p> +The tenseness of the situation was not relieved by the return of Waldon with +Edwards. Waldon seemed to realize without knowing just what it was, that +something was about to happen. He drove his boat back to the <i>Lucie</i> again +in record time. This was Kennedy’s turn to be reticent. Whatever it was he was +revolving in his mind, he answered in scarcely more than monosyllables whatever +questions were put to him. +</p> + +<p> +“You are not coming aboard?” inquired Edwards in surprise as he and Jermyn +mounted the steps of the houseboat ladder, and Kennedy remained seated in the +tender. +</p> + +<p> +“Not yet,” replied Craig coolly. +</p> + +<p> +“But I thought you had something to show me. Waldon told me you had.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think I shall have in a short time,” returned Kennedy. “We shall be back +immediately. I’m just going to ask Waldon to run over to the <i>Nautilus</i> +for a few minutes. We’ll tow back your launch, too, in case you need it.” +</p> + +<p> +Waldon had cast off obediently. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s one thing sure,” I remarked. “Jermyn can’t get away from the +<i>Lucie</i> until we return—unless he swims.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy did not seem to pay much attention to the remark, for his only reply +was: “I’m taking a chance by this maneuvering, but I think it will work out +that I am correct. By the way, Waldon, you needn’t put on so much speed. I’m in +no great hurry to get back. Half an hour will be time enough.” +</p> + +<p> +“Jermyn? What did you mean by Jermyn?” asked Waldon, as we climbed to the deck +of the <i>Nautilus</i>. +</p> + +<p> +He had evidently learned, as I had, that it was little use to try to quiz +Kennedy until he was ready to be questioned and had decided to try it on me. +</p> + +<p> +I had nothing to conceal and I told him quite fully all that I knew. Actually, +I believe if Jermyn had been there, it would have taken both Kennedy and myself +to prevent violence. As it was I had a veritable madman to deal with while +Kennedy gathered up leisurely the wireless outfit he had installed on the deck +of Waldon’s yacht. It was only by telling him that I would certainly demand +that Kennedy leave him behind if he did not control his feelings that I could +calm him before Craig had finished his work on the yacht. +</p> + +<p> +Waldon relieved himself by driving the tender back at top speed to the +<i>Lucie</i>, and now it seemed that Kennedy had no objection to traveling as +fast as the many-cylindered engine was capable of going. +</p> + +<p> +As we entered the saloon of the houseboat, I kept close watch over Waldon. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy began by slipping a record on the phonograph in the corner of the +saloon, then facing us and addressing Edwards particularly. +</p> + +<p> +“You may be interested to know, Mr. Edwards,” he said, “that your wireless +outfit here has been put to a use for which you never intended it.” +</p> + +<p> +No one said anything, but I am sure that some one in the room then for the +first time began to suspect what was coming. +</p> + +<p> +“As you know, by the use of an aërial pole, messages may be easily received +from any number of stations,” continued Craig. “Laws, rules and regulations may +be adopted to shut out interlopers and plug busybody ears, but the greater part +of whatever is transmitted by the Hertzian waves can be snatched down by other +wireless apparatus. +</p> + +<p> +“Down below, in that little room of yours,” went on Craig, “might sit an +operator with his ear-phone clamped to his head, drinking in the news conveyed +surely and swiftly to him through the wireless signals—plucking from the sky +secrets of finance and,” he added, leaning forward, “love.” +</p> + +<p> +In his usual dramatic manner Kennedy had swung his little audience completely +with him. +</p> + +<p> +“In other words,” he resumed, “it might be used for eavesdropping by a wireless +wiretapper. Now,” he concluded, “I thought that if there was any radio +detective work being done, I might as well do some, too.” +</p> + +<p> +He toyed for a moment with the phonograph record. “I have used,” he explained, +“Marconi’s radiotelephone, because in connection with his receivers Marconi +uses phonographic recorders and on them has captured wireless telegraph signals +over hundreds of miles. +</p> + +<p> +“He has found that it is possible to receive wireless signals, although +ordinary records are not loud enough, by using a small microphone on the +repeating diaphragm and connected with a loud-speaking telephone. The chief +difficulty was to get a microphone that would carry a sufficient current +without burning up. There were other difficulties, but they have been +surmounted and now wireless telegraph messages may be automatically recorded +and made audible.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy started the phonograph, running it along, stopping it, taking up the +record at a new point. +</p> + +<p> +“Listen,” he exclaimed at length, “there’s something interesting, the WXY +call—Seaville station—from some one on the <i>Lucie</i> only a few minutes ago, +sending a message to be relayed by Seaville to the station at Beach Park. It +seems impossible, but buzzing and ticking forth is this message from some one +off this very houseboat. It reads: “Miss Valerie Fox, Beach Park. I am +suspected of the murder of Mrs. Edwards. I appeal to you to help me. You must +allow me to tell the truth about the messages I intercepted for Mrs. Edwards +which passed between yourself on the ocean and Mr. Edwards in New York via +Seaville. You rejected me and would not let me save you. Now you must save me.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy paused, then added, “The message is signed by Dr. Jermyn!” +</p> + +<p> +At once I saw it all. Jermyn had been the unsuccessful suitor for Miss Fox’s +affections. But before I could piece out the rest of the tragic story, Kennedy +had started the phonograph record at an earlier point which he had skipped for +the present. +</p> + +<p> +“Here’s another record—a brief one—also to Valerie Fox from the houseboat: +‘Refuse all interviews. Deny everything. Will see you as soon as present +excitement dies down.’” +</p> + +<p> +Before Kennedy could finish, Waldon had leaped forward, unable longer to +control his feelings. If Kennedy had not seized his arm, I verily believe he +would have cast Dr. Jermyn into the bay into which his sister had fallen two +nights before in her terribly weakened condition. +</p> + +<p> +“Waldon,” cried Kennedy, “for God’s sake, man—wait! Don’t you understand? The +second message is signed Tracy Edwards.” +</p> + +<p> +It came as quite as much a shock of surprise to me as to Waldon. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you understand?” he repeated. “Your sister first learned from Dr. Jermyn +what was going on. She moved the <i>Lucie</i> down here near Seaville in order +to be near the wireless station when the ship bearing her rival, Valerie Fox, +got in touch with land. With the help of Dr. Jermyn she intercepted the +wireless messages from the <i>Kronprinz</i> to the shore—between her husband +and Valerie Fox.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy was hurrying on now to his irresistible conclusion. “She found that he +was infatuated with the famous stage beauty, that he was planning to marry +another, her rival. She accused him of it, threatened to defeat his plans. He +knew she knew his unfaithfulness. Instead of being your sister’s murderer, Dr. +Jermyn was helping her get the evidence that would save both her and perhaps +win Miss Fox back to himself.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy had turned sharply on Edwards. +</p> + +<p> +“But,” he added, with a glance that crushed any lingering hope that the truth +had been concealed, “the same night that Dr. Jermyn arrived here, you visited +your wife. As she slept you severed the nerves that meant life or death to her. +Then you covered the cuts with the preparation which you knew Dr. Jermyn used. +You asked him to stay, while you went away, thinking that when death came you +would have a perfect alibi—perhaps a scapegoat. Edwards, the radio detective +convicts you!” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap10"></a>CHAPTER X<br/> +THE CURIO SHOP</h2> + +<p> +Edwards crumpled up as Kennedy and I faced him. There was no escape. In fact +our greatest difficulty was to protect him from Waldon. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy’s work in the case was over when we had got Edwards ashore and in the +hands of the authorities. But mine had just begun and it was late when I got my +story on the wire for the <i>Star</i>. +</p> + +<p> +I felt pretty tired and determined to make up for it by sleeping the next day. +It was no use, however. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, what’s the matter, Mrs. Northrop?” I heard Kennedy ask as he opened our +door the next morning, just as I had finished dressing. +</p> + +<p> +He had admitted a young woman, who greeted us with nervous, wide-staring eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s—it’s about Archer,” she cried, sinking into the nearest chair and staring +from one to the other of us. +</p> + +<p> +She was the wife of Professor Archer Northrop, director of the archeological +department at the university. Both Craig and I had known her ever since her +marriage to Northrop, for she was one of the most attractive ladies in the +younger set of the faculty, to which Craig naturally belonged. Archer had been +of the class below us in the university. We had hazed him, and out of the mild +hazing there had, strangely enough, grown a strong friendship. +</p> + +<p> +I recollected quickly that Northrop, according to last reports, had been down +in the south of Mexico on an archeological expedition. But before I could +frame, even in my mind, the natural question in a form that would not alarm his +wife further, Kennedy had it on his lips. +</p> + +<p> +“No bad news from Mitla, I hope?” he asked gently, recalling one of the main +working stations chosen by the expedition and the reported unsettled condition +of the country about it. She looked up quickly. +</p> + +<p> +“Didn’t you know—he—came back from Vera Cruz yesterday?” she asked slowly, then +added, speaking in a broken tone, “and—he seems—suddenly—to have disappeared. +Oh, such a terrible night of worry! No word—and I called up the museum, but +Doctor Bernardo, the curator, had gone, and no one answered. And this morning—I +couldn’t stand it any longer—so I came to you.” +</p> + +<p> +“You have no idea, I suppose, of anything that was weighing on his mind?” +suggested Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” she answered promptly. +</p> + +<p> +In default of any further information, Kennedy did not pursue this line of +questioning. I could not determine from his face or manner whether he thought +the matter might involve another than Mrs. Northrop, or, perhaps, something +connected with the unsettled condition of the country from which her husband +had just arrived. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you any of the letters that Archer wrote home?” asked Craig, at length. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” she replied eagerly, taking a little packet from her handbag. “I thought +you might ask that. I brought them.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are an ideal client,” commented Craig encouragingly, taking the letters. +“Now, Mrs. Northrop, be brave. Trust me to run this thing down, and if you hear +anything let me know immediately.” +</p> + +<p> +She left us a moment later, visibly relieved. +</p> + +<p> +Scarcely had she gone when Craig, stuffing the letters into his pocket unread, +seized his hat, and a moment later was striding along toward the museum with +his habitual rapid, abstracted step which told me that he sensed a mystery. +</p> + +<p> +In the museum we met Doctor Bernardo, a man slightly older than Northrop, with +whom he had been very intimate. He had just arrived and was already deeply +immersed in the study of some new and beautiful colored plates from the +National Museum of Mexico City. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you remember seeing Northrop here yesterday afternoon?” greeted Craig, +without explaining what had happened. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he answered promptly. “I was here with him until very late. At least, he +was in his own room, working hard, when I left.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you see him go?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why—er—no,” replied Bernardo, as if that were a new idea. “I left him here—at +least, I didn’t see him go out.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy tried the door of Northrop’s room, which was at the far end, in a +corner, and communicated with the hall only through the main floor of the +museum. It was locked. A pass-key from the janitor quickly opened it. +</p> + +<p> +Such a sight as greeted us, I shall never forget. There, in his big desk-chair, +sat Northrop, absolutely rigid, the most horribly contorted look on his +features that I have ever seen—half of pain, half of fear, as if of something +nameless. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy bent over. His hands were cold. +</p> + +<p> +Northrop had been dead at least twelve hours, perhaps longer. All night the +deserted museum had guarded its terrible secret. +</p> + +<p> +As Craig peered into his face, he saw, in the fleshy part of the neck, just +below the left ear, a round red mark, with just a drop or two of now black +coagulated blood in the center. All around we could see a vast amount of +miscellaneous stuff, partly unpacked, partly just opened, and waiting to be +taken out of the wrappings by the now motionless hands. +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose you are more or less familiar with what Northrop brought back?” +asked Kennedy of Bernardo, running his eye over the material in the room. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, reasonably,” answered Bernardo. “Before the cases arrived from the wharf, +he told me in detail what he had managed to bring up with him.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wish, then, that you would look it over and see if there is anything +missing,” requested Craig, already himself busy in going over the room for +other evidence. +</p> + +<p> +Doctor Bernardo hastily began taking a mental inventory of the stuff. While +they worked, I tried vainly to frame some theory which would explain the +startling facts we had so suddenly discovered. +</p> + +<p> +Mitla, I knew, was south of the city of Oaxaca, and there, in its ruined +palaces, was the crowning achievement of the old Zapotec kings. No ruins in +America were more elaborately ornamented or richer in lore for the +archeologist. +</p> + +<p> +Northrop had brought up porphyry blocks with quaint grecques and much +hieroglyphic painting. Already unpacked were half a dozen copper axes, some of +the first of that particular style that had ever been brought to the United +States. Besides the sculptured stones and the mosaics were jugs, cups, vases, +little gods, sacrificial stones—enough, almost, to equip a new alcove in the +museum. +</p> + +<p> +Before Northrop was an idol, a hideous thing on which frogs and snakes squatted +and coiled. It was a fitting piece to accompany the gruesome occupant of the +little room in his long, last vigil. In fact, it almost sent a shudder over me, +and if I had been inclined to the superstitious, I should certainly have +concluded that this was retribution for having disturbed the <i>lares</i> and +<i>penates</i> of a dead race. +</p> + +<p> +Doctor Bernardo was going over the material a second time. By the look on his +face, even I could guess that something was missing. +</p> + +<p> +“What is it?” asked Craig, following the curator closely. +</p> + +<p> +“Why,” he answered slowly, “there was an inscription—we were looking at it +earlier in the day—on a small block of porphyry. I don’t see it.” +</p> + +<p> +He paused and went back to his search before we could ask him further what he +thought the inscription was about. +</p> + +<p> +I thought nothing myself at the time of his reticence, for Kennedy had gone +over to a window back of Northrop and to the left. It was fully twenty feet +from the downward slope of the campus there, and, as he craned his neck out, he +noted that the copper leader of the rain pipe ran past it a few feet away. +</p> + +<p> +I, too, looked out. A thick group of trees hid the window from the avenue +beyond the campus wall, and below us, at a corner of the building, was a clump +of rhododendrons. As Craig bent over the sill, he whipped out a pocket lens. +</p> + +<p> +A moment later he silently handed the glass to me. As nearly as I could make +out, there were five marks on the dust of the sill. +</p> + +<p> +“Finger-prints!” I exclaimed. “Some one has been clinging to the edge of the +ledge.” +</p> + +<p> +“In that case,” Craig observed quietly, “there would have been only four +prints.” +</p> + +<p> +I looked again, puzzled. The prints were flat and well separated. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” he added, “not finger-prints—toe-prints.” +</p> + +<p> +“Toe-prints?” I echoed. +</p> + +<p> +Before he could reply, Craig had dashed out of the room, around, and under the +window. There, he was carefully going over the soft earth around the bushes +below. +</p> + +<p> +“What are you looking for?” I asked, joining him. +</p> + +<p> +“Some one—perhaps two—has been here,” he remarked, almost under his breath. +“One, at least, has removed his shoes. See those shoe-prints up to this point? +The print of a boot-heel in soft earth shows the position and contour of every +nail head. Bertillon has made a collection of such nails, certain types, sizes, +and shapes used in certain boots, showing often what country the shoes came +from. Even the number and pattern are significant. Some factories use a fixed +number of nails and arrange them in a particular manner. I have made my own +collection of such prints in this country. These were American shoes. Perhaps +the clue will not lead us anywhere, though, for I doubt whether it was an +American foot.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy continued to study the marks. +</p> + +<p> +“He removed his shoes—either to help in climbing or to prevent noise—ah—here’s +the foot! Strange—see how small it is—and broad, how prehensile the toes—almost +like fingers. Surely that foot could never have been encased in American shoes +all its life. I shall make plaster casts of these, to preserve later.” +</p> + +<p> +He was still scouting about on hands and knees in the dampness of the +rhododendrons. Suddenly he reached his long arm in among the shrubs and picked +up a little reed stick. On the end of it was a small cylinder of buff brown. +</p> + +<p> +He looked at it curiously, dug his nail into the soft mass, then rubbed his +nail over the tip of his tongue gingerly. +</p> + +<p> +With a wry face, as if the taste were extremely acrid, he moistened his +handkerchief and wiped off his tongue vigorously. +</p> + +<p> +“Even that minute particle that was on my nail makes my tongue tingle and feel +numb,” he remarked, still rubbing. “Let us go back again. I want to see +Bernardo.” +</p> + +<p> +“Had he any visitors during the day?” queried Kennedy, as he reentered the +ghastly little room, while the curator stood outside, completely unnerved by +the tragedy which had been so close to him without his apparently knowing it. +Kennedy was squeezing out from the little wound on Northrop’s neck a few drops +of liquid on a sterilized piece of glass. +</p> + +<p> +“No; no one,” Bernardo answered, after a moment. +</p> + +<p> +“Did you see anyone in the museum who looked suspicious?” asked Kennedy, +watching Bernardo’s face keenly. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” he hesitated. “There were several people wandering about among the +exhibits, of course. One, I recall, late in the afternoon, was a little +dark-skinned woman, rather good-looking.” +</p> + +<p> +“A Mexican?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I should say so. Not of Spanish descent, though. She was rather of the +Indian type. She seemed to be much interested in the various exhibits, asked me +several questions, very intelligently, too. Really, I thought she was trying +to—er—flirt with me.” +</p> + +<p> +He shot a glance at Craig, half of confession, half of embarrassment. +</p> + +<p> +“And—oh, yes—there was another—a man, a little man, as I recall, with shaggy +hair. He looked like a Russian to me. I remember, because he came to the door, +peered around hastily, and went away. I thought he might have got into the +wrong part of the building and went to direct him right—but before I could get +out into the hall, he was gone. I remember, too, that, as I turned, the woman +had followed me and soon was asking other questions—which, I will admit—I was +glad to answer.” +</p> + +<p> +“Was Northrop in his room while these people were here?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; he had locked the door so that none of the students or visitors could +disturb him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Evidently the woman was diverting your attention while the man entered +Northrop’s room by the window,” ruminated Craig, as we stood for a moment in +the outside doorway. +</p> + +<p> +He had already telephoned to our old friend Doctor Leslie, the coroner, to take +charge of the case, and now was ready to leave. The news had spread, and the +janitor of the building was waiting to lock the campus door to keep back the +crowd of students and others. +</p> + +<p> +Our next duty was the painful one of breaking the news to Mrs. Northrop. I +shall pass it over. Perhaps no one could have done it more gently than Kennedy. +She did not cry. She was simply dazed. Fortunately her mother was with her, had +been, in fact, ever since Northrop had gone on the expedition. +</p> + +<p> +“Why should anyone want to steal tablets of old Mixtec inscriptions?” I asked +thoughtfully, as we walked sadly over the campus in the direction of the +chemistry building. “Have they a sufficient value, even on appreciative Fifth +Avenue, to warrant murder?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” he remarked, “it does seem incomprehensible. Yet people do just such +things. The psychologists tell us that there is a veritable mania for +possessing such curios. However, it is possible that there may be some deeper +significance in this case,” he added, his face puckered in thought. +</p> + +<p> +Who was the mysterious Mexican woman, who the shaggy Russian? I asked myself. +Clearly, at least, if she existed at all, she was one of the millions not of +Spanish but of Indian descent in the country south of us. As I reasoned it out, +it seemed to me as if she must have been an accomplice. She could not have got +into Northrop’s room either before or after Doctor Bernardo left. Then, too, +the toe-and shoe-prints were not hers. But, I figured, she certainly had a part +in the plot. +</p> + +<p> +While I was engaged in the vain effort to unravel the tragic affair by pure +reason, Kennedy was at work with practical science. +</p> + +<p> +He began by examining the little dark cylinder on the end of the reed. On a +piece of the stuff, broken off, he poured a dark liquid from a brown-glass +bottle. Then he placed it under a microscope. +</p> + +<p> +“Microscopically,” he said slowly, “it consists almost wholly of minute, clear +granules which give a blue reaction with iodine. They are starch. Mixed with +them are some larger starch granules, a few plant cells, fibrous matter, and +other foreign particles. And then, there is the substance that gives that +acrid, numbing taste.” He appeared to be vacantly studying the floor. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you think it is?” I asked, unable to restrain myself. +</p> + +<p> +“Aconite,” he answered slowly, “of which the active principle is the deadly +poisonous alkaloid, aconitin.” +</p> + +<p> +He walked over and pulled down a well-thumbed standard work on toxicology, +turned the pages, then began to read aloud: +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +Pure aconitin is probably the most actively poisonous substance with which we +are acquainted and, if administered hypodermically, the alkaloid is even more +powerfully poisonous than when taken by the mouth. +</p> + +<p> +As in the case of most of the poisonous alkaloids, aconitin does not produce +any decidedly characteristic post-mortem appearances. There is no way to +distinguish it from other alkaloids, in fact, no reliable chemical test. The +physiological effects before death are all that can be relied on. +</p> + +<p> +Owing to its exceeding toxic nature, the smallness of the dose required to +produce death, and the lack of tests for recognition, aconitin possesses rather +more interest in legal medicine than most other poisons. +</p> + +<p> +It is one of the few substances which, in the present state of toxicology, +might be criminally administered and leave no positive evidence of the crime. +If a small but fatal dose of the poison were to be given, especially if it were +administered hypodermically, the chances of its detection in the body after +death would be practically none. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap11"></a>CHAPTER XI<br/> +THE “PILLAR OF DEATH”</h2> + +<p> +I was looking at him fixedly as the diabolical nature of what must have +happened sank into my mind. Here was a poison that defied detection. I could +see by the look on Craig’s face that that problem, alone, was enough to absorb +his attention. He seemed fully to realize that we had to deal with a criminal +so clever that he might never be brought to justice. +</p> + +<p> +An idea flashed over me. +</p> + +<p> +“How about the letters?” I suggested. +</p> + +<p> +“Good, Walter!” he exclaimed. +</p> + +<p> +He untied the package which Mrs. Northrop had given him and glanced quickly +over one after another of the letters. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” he exclaimed, fairly devouring one dated at Mitla. “Listen—it tells about +Northrop’s work and goes on: +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +“‘I have been much interested in a cavern, or <i>subterraneo</i>, here, in the +shape of a cross, each arm of which extends for some twelve feet underground. +In the center it is guarded by a block of stone popularly called “the Pillar of +Death.” There is a superstition that whoever embraces it will die before the +sun goes down. +</p> + +<p> +“‘From the <i>subterraneo</i> is said to lead a long, underground passage +across the court to another subterranean chamber which is full of Mixtec +treasure. Treasure hunters have dug all around it, and it is said that two old +Indians, only, know of the immense amount of buried gold and silver, but that +they will not reveal it.’” +</p> + +<p> +I started up. Here was the missing link which I had been waiting for. +</p> + +<p> +“There, at least, is the motive,” I blurted out. “That is why Bernardo was so +reticent. Northrop, in his innocence of heart, had showed him that +inscription.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy said nothing as he finally tied up the little packet of letters and +locked it in his safe. He was not given to hasty generalizations; neither was +he one who clung doggedly to a preconceived theory. +</p> + +<p> +It was still early in the afternoon. Craig and I decided to drop into the +museum again in order to see Doctor Bernardo. He was not there and we sat down +to wait. +</p> + +<p> +Just then the letter box in the door clicked. It was the postman on his rounds. +Kennedy walked over and picked up the letter. +</p> + +<p> +The postmark bore the words, “Mexico City,” and a date somewhat later than that +on which Northrop had left Vera Cruz. In the lower corner, underscored, were +the words, “Personal—Urgent.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’d like to know what is in that,” remarked Craig, turning it over and over. +</p> + +<p> +He appeared to be considering something, for he rose suddenly and shoved the +letter into his pocket. +</p> + +<p> +I followed, and a few moments later, across the campus in his laboratory, he +was working quickly over an X-ray apparatus. He had placed the letter in it. +</p> + +<p> +“These are what are known as ‘low’ tubes,” he explained. “They give out ‘soft +rays.’” He continued to work for a few moments, then handed me the letter. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, Walter,” he said, “if you will just hurry back to the museum and replace +that letter, I think I will have something that will astonish you—though +whether it will have any bearing on the case, remains to be seen.” +</p> + +<p> +“What is it?” I asked, a few minutes later, when I had rejoined him, after +returning the letter. He was poring intently over what looked like a negative. +</p> + +<p> +“The possibility of reading the contents of documents inclosed in a sealed +envelope,” he replied, still studying the shadowgraph closely, “has already +been established by the well-known English scientist, Doctor Hall Edwards. He +has been experimenting with the method of using X-rays recently discovered by a +German scientist, by which radiographs of very thin substances, such as a sheet +of paper, a leaf, an insect’s body, may be obtained. These thin substances +through which the rays used formerly to pass without leaving an impression, can +now be radiographed.” +</p> + +<p> +I looked carefully as he traced out something on the negative. On it was easily +possible, following his guidance, to read the words inscribed on the sheet of +paper inside. So admirably defined were all the details that even the gum on +the envelope and the edges of the sheet of paper inside the envelope could be +distinguished. +</p> + +<p> +“Any letter written with ink having a mineral basis can be radiographed,” added +Craig. “Even when the sheet is folded in the usual way, it is possible by +taking a radiograph stereoscopically, to distinguish the writing, every detail +standing out in relief. Besides, it can be greatly magnified, which aids in +deciphering it if it is indistinct or jumbled up. Some of it looks like mirror +writing. Ah,” he added, “here’s something interesting!” +</p> + +<p> +Together we managed to trace out the contents of several paragraphs, of which +the significant parts were as follows: +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +I am expecting that my friend Señora Herreria will be in New York by the time +you receive this, and should she call on you, I know you will accord her every +courtesy. She has been in Mexico City for a few days, having just returned from +Mitla, where she met Professor Northrop. It is rumored that Professor Northrop +has succeeded in smuggling out of the country a very important stone bearing an +inscription which, I understand, is of more than ordinary interest. I do not +know anything definite about it, as Señora Herreria is very reticent on the +matter, but depend on you to find out if possible and let me know of it. +</p> + +<p> +According to the rumors and the statements of the <i>señora</i>, it seems that +Northrop has taken an unfair advantage of the situation down in Oaxaca, and I +suppose she and others who know about the inscription feel that it is really +the possession of the government. +</p> + +<p> +You will find that the <i>señora</i> is an accomplished antiquarian and +scholar. Like many others down here just now, she has a high regard for the +Japanese. As you know, there exists a natural sympathy between some Mexicans +and Japanese, owing to what is believed to be a common origin of the two races. +</p> + +<p> +In spite of the assertions of many to the contrary, there is little doubt left +in the minds of students that the Indian races which have peopled Mexico were +of Mongolian stock. Many words in some dialects are easily understood by +Chinese immigrants. A secretary of the Japanese legation here was able recently +to decipher old Mixtec inscriptions found in the ruins of Mitla. +</p> + +<p> +Señora Herreria has been much interested in establishing the relationship and, +I understand, is acquainted with a Japanese curio dealer in New York who +recently visited Mexico for the same purpose. I believe that she wishes to +collaborate with him on a monograph on the subject, which is expected to have a +powerful effect on the public opinion both here and at Tokyo. +</p> + +<p> +In regard to the inscription which Northrop has taken with him, I rely on you +to keep me informed. There seems to be a great deal of mystery connected with +it, and I am simply hazarding a guess as to its nature. If it should prove to +be something which might interest either the Japanese or ourselves, you can see +how important it may be, especially in view of the forthcoming mission of +General Francisco to Tokyo. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Very sincerely yours,<br/> +D<small>R</small>. E<small>MILIO</small> S<small>ANCHEZ</small>, Director. +</p> + +<p> +“Bernardo is a Mexican,” I exclaimed, as Kennedy finished reading, “and there +can be no doubt that the woman he mentioned was this Señora Herreria.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy said nothing, but seemed to be weighing the various paragraphs in the +letter. +</p> + +<p> +“Still,” I observed, “so far, the only one against whom we have any direct +suspicion in the case is the shaggy Russian, whoever he is.” +</p> + +<p> +“A man whom Bernardo says looked like a Russian,” corrected Craig. +</p> + +<p> +He was pacing the laboratory restlessly. +</p> + +<p> +“This is becoming quite an international affair,” he remarked finally, pausing +before me, his hat on. “Would you like to relax your mind by a little excursion +among the curio shops of the city? I know something about Japanese curios—more, +perhaps, than I do of Mexican. It may amuse us, even if it doesn’t help in +solving the mystery. Meanwhile, I shall make arrangements for shadowing +Bernardo. I want to know just how he acts after he reads that letter.” +</p> + +<p> +He paused long enough to telephone his instructions to an uptown detective +agency which could be depended on for such mere routine work, then joined me +with the significant remark: “Blood is thicker than water, anyhow, Walter. +Still, even if the Mexicans are influenced by sentiment, I hardly think that +would account for the interest of our friends from across the water in the +matter.” +</p> + +<p> +I do not know how many of the large and small curio shops of the city we +visited that afternoon. At another time, I should have enjoyed the visits +immensely, for anyone seeking articles of beauty will find the antique shops of +Fifth and Fourth Avenues and the side streets well worth visiting. +</p> + +<p> +We came, at length, to one, a small, quaint, dusty rookery, down in a basement, +entered almost directly from the street. It bore over the door a little gilt +sign which read simply, “Sato’s.” +</p> + +<p> +As we entered, I could not help being impressed by the wealth of articles in +beautiful cloisonne enamel, in mother-of-pearl, lacquer, and champleve. There +were beautiful little koros, or incense burners, vases, and teapots. There were +enamels incrusted, translucent, and painted, works of the famous Namikawa, of +Kyoto, and Namikawa, of Tokyo. Satsuma vases, splendid and rare examples of the +potter’s art, crowded gorgeously embroidered screens depicting all sorts of +brilliant scenes, among others the sacred Fujiyama rising in the stately +distance. Sato himself greeted us with a ready smile and bow. +</p> + +<p> +“I am just looking for a few things to add to my den,” explained Kennedy, +adding, “nothing in particular, but merely whatever happens to strike my +fancy.” +</p> + +<p> +“Surely, then, you have come to the right shop,” greeted Sato. “If there is +anything that interests you, I shall be glad to show it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you,” replied Craig. “Don’t let me trouble you with your other +customers. I will call on you if I see anything.” +</p> + +<p> +For several minutes, Craig and I busied ourselves looking about, and we did not +have to feign interest, either. +</p> + +<p> +“Often things are not as represented,” he whispered to me, after a while, “but +a connoiseur can tell spurious goods. These are the real thing, mostly.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not one in fifty can tell the difference,” put in the voice of Sato, at his +elbow. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you see I happen to know,” Craig replied, not the least disconcerted. +“You can’t always be too sure.” +</p> + +<p> +A laugh and a shrug was Sato’s answer. “It’s well all are not so keen,” he +said, with a frank acknowledgment that he was not above sharp practices. +</p> + +<p> +I glanced now and then at the expressionless face of the curio dealer. Was it +merely the natural blankness of his countenance that impressed me, or was +there, in fact, something deep and dark hidden in it, something of “East is +East and West is West” which I did not and could not understand? Craig was +admiring the bronzes. He had paused before one, a square metal fire-screen of +odd design, with the title on a card, “Japan Gazing at the World.” +</p> + +<p> +It represented Japan as an eagle, with beak and talons of burnished gold, +resting on a rocky island about which great waves dashed. The bird had an air +of dignity and conscious pride in its strength, as it looked out at the world, +a globe revolving in space. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you suppose there is anything significant in that?” I asked, pointing to +the continent of North America, also in gold and prominently in view. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, honorable sir,” answered Sato, before Kennedy could reply, “the artist +intended by that to indicate Japan’s friendliness for America and America’s +greatness.” +</p> + +<p> +He was inscrutable. It seemed as if he were watching our every move, and yet it +was done with a polite cordiality that could not give offense. +</p> + +<p> +Behind some bronzes of the Japanese Hercules destroying the demons and other +mythical heroes was a large alcove, or <i>tokonoma</i>, decorated with peacock, +stork, and crane panels. Carvings and lacquer added to the beauty of it. A +miniature chrysanthemum garden heightened the illusion. Carved <i>hinoki</i> +wood framed the panels, and the roof was supported by columns in the old +Japanese style, the whole being a compromise between the very simple and quiet +and the polychromatic. The dark woods, the lanterns, the floor tiles of dark +red, and the cushions of rich gold and yellow were most alluring. It had the +genuine fascination of the Orient. +</p> + +<p> +“Will the gentlemen drink a little <i>sake?</i>” Sato asked politely. +</p> + +<p> +Craig thanked him and said that we would. +</p> + +<p> +“Otaka!” Sato called. +</p> + +<p> +A peculiar, almost white-skinned attendant answered, and a moment later +produced four cups and poured out the rice brandy, taking his own quietly, +apart from us. I watched him drink, curiously. He took the cup; then, with a +long piece of carved wood, he dipped into the <i>sake</i>, shaking a few drops +on the floor to the four quarters. Finally, with a deft sweep, he lifted his +heavy mustache with the piece of wood and drank off the draft almost without +taking breath. +</p> + +<p> +He was a peculiar man of middle height, with a shock of dark, tough, woolly +hair, well formed and not bad-looking, with a robust general physique, as if +his ancestors had been meat eaters. His forehead was narrow and sloped +backward; the cheekbones were prominent; nose hooked, broad and wide, with +strong nostrils; mouth large, with thick lips, and not very prominent chin. His +eyes were perhaps the most noticeable feature. They were dark gray, almost like +those of a European. +</p> + +<p> +As Otaka withdrew with the empty cups, we rose to continue our inspection of +the wonders of the shop. There were ivories of all descriptions. Here was a +two-handled sword, with a very large ivory handle, a weirdly carved scabbard, +and wonderful steel blade. By the expression of Craig’s face, Sato knew that he +had made a sale. +</p> + +<p> +Craig had been rummaging among some warlike instruments which Sato, with the +instincts of a true salesman, was now displaying, and had picked up a bow. It +was short, very strong, and made of pine wood. He held it horizontally and +twanged the string. I looked up in time to catch a pleased expression on the +face of Otaka. +</p> + +<p> +“Most people would have held it the other way,” commented Sato. +</p> + +<p> +Craig said nothing, but was examining an arrow, almost twenty inches long and +thick, made of cane, with a point of metal very sharp but badly fastened. He +fingered the deep blood groove in the scooplike head of the arrow and looked at +it carefully. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll take that,” he said, “only I wish it were one with the regular +reddish-brown lump in it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, but, honorable sir,” apologized Sato, “the Japanese law prohibits that, +now. There are few of those, and they are very valuable.” +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose so,” agreed Craig. “This will do, though. You have a wonderful shop +here, Sato. Some time, when I feel richer, I mean to come in again. No, thank +you, you need not send them; I’ll carry them.” +</p> + +<p> +We bowed ourselves out, promising to come again when Sato received a new +consignment from the Orient which he was expecting. +</p> + +<p> +“That other Jap is a peculiar fellow,” I observed, as we walked along uptown +again. +</p> + +<p> +“He isn’t a Jap,” remarked Craig. “He is an Ainu, one of the aborigines who +have been driven northward into the island of Yezo.” +</p> + +<p> +“An Ainu?” I repeated. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. Generally thought, now, to be a white race and nearer of kin to Europeans +than Asiatics. The Japanese have pushed them northward and are now trying to +civilize them. They are a dirty, hairy race, but when they are brought under +civilizing influences they adapt themselves to their environment and make very +good servants. Still, they are on about the lowest scale of humanity.” +</p> + +<p> +“I thought Otaka was very mild,” I commented. +</p> + +<p> +“They are a most inoffensive and peaceable people usually,” he answered, +“good-natured and amenable to authority. But they become dangerous when driven +to despair by cruel treatment. The Japanese government is very considerate of +them—but not all Japanese are.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap12"></a>CHAPTER XII<br/> +THE ARROW POISON</h2> + +<p> +Far into the night Craig was engaged in some very delicate and minute +microscopic work in the laboratory. +</p> + +<p> +We were about to leave when there was a gentle tap on the door. Kennedy opened +it and admitted a young man, the operative of the detective agency who had been +shadowing Bernardo. His report was very brief, but, to me at least, +significant. Bernardo, on his return to the museum, had evidently read the +letter, which had agitated him very much, for a few moments later he hurriedly +left and went downtown to the Prince Henry Hotel. The operative had casually +edged up to the desk and overheard whom he asked for. It was Señora Herreria. +Once again, later in the evening, he had asked for her, but she was still out. +</p> + +<p> +It was quite early the next morning, when Kennedy had resumed his careful +microscopic work, that the telephone bell rang, and he answered it +mechanically. But a moment later a look of intense surprise crossed his face. +</p> + +<p> +“It was from Doctor Leslie,” he announced, hanging up the receiver quickly. “He +has a most peculiar case which he wants me to see—a woman.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy called a cab, and, at a furious pace, we dashed across the city and +down to the Metropolitan Hospital, where Doctor Leslie was waiting. He met us +eagerly and conducted us to a little room where, lying motionless on a bed, was +a woman. +</p> + +<p> +She was a striking-looking woman, dark of hair and skin, and in life she must +have been sensuously attractive. But now her face was drawn and contorted—with +the same ghastly look that had been on the face of Northrop. +</p> + +<p> +“She died in a cab,” explained Doctor Leslie, “before they could get her to the +hospital. At first they suspected the cab driver. But he seems to have proved +his innocence. He picked her up last night on Fifth Avenue, reeling—thought she +was intoxicated. And, in fact, he seems to have been right. Our tests have +shown a great deal of alcohol present, but nothing like enough to have had such +a serious effect.” +</p> + +<p> +“She told nothing of herself?” asked Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +“No; she was pretty far gone when the cabby answered her signal. All he could +get out of her was a word that sounded like ‘Curio-curio.’ He says she seemed +to complain of something about her mouth and head. Her face was drawn and +shrunken; her hands were cold and clammy, and then convulsions came on. He +called an ambulance, but she was past saving when it arrived. The numbness +seemed to have extended over all her body; swallowing was impossible; there was +entire loss of her voice as well as sight, and death took place by syncope.” +</p> + +<p> +“Have you any clue to the cause of her death?” asked Craig. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, it might have been some trouble with her heart, I suppose,” remarked +Doctor Leslie tentatively. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, she looks strong that way. No, hardly anything organic.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, then I thought she looked like a Mexican,” went on Doctor Leslie. “It +might be some new tropical disease. I confess I don’t know. The fact is,” he +added, lowering his voice, “I had my own theory about it until a few moments +ago. That was why I called you.” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you mean?” asked Craig, evidently bent on testing his own theory by +the other’s ignorance. +</p> + +<p> +Doctor Leslie made no answer immediately, but raised the sheet which covered +her body and disclosed, in the fleshy part of the upper arm, a curious little +red swollen mark with a couple of drops of darkened blood. +</p> + +<p> +“I thought at first,” he added, “that we had at last a genuine ‘poisoned +needle’ case. You see, that looked like it. But I have made all the tests for +curare and strychnin without results.” +</p> + +<p> +At the mere suggestion, a procession of hypodermic-needle and white-slavery +stories flashed before me. +</p> + +<p> +“But,” objected Kennedy, “clearly this was not a case of kidnaping. It is a +case of murder. Have you tested for the ordinary poisons?” +</p> + +<p> +Doctor Leslie shook his head. “There was no poison,” he said, “absolutely none +that any of our tests could discover.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy bent over and squeezed out a few drops of liquid from the wound on a +microscope slide, and covered them. +</p> + +<p> +“You have not identified her yet,” he added, looking up. “I think you will +find, Leslie, that there is a Señora Herreria registered at the Prince Henry +who is missing, and that this woman will agree with the description of her. +Anyhow, I wish you would look it up and let me know.” +</p> + +<p> +Half an hour later, Kennedy was preparing to continue his studies with the +microscope when Doctor Bernardo entered. He seemed most solicitous to know what +progress was being made on the case, and, although Kennedy did not tell much, +still he did not discourage conversation on the subject. +</p> + +<p> +When we came in the night before, Craig had unwrapped and tossed down the +Japanese sword and the Ainu bow and arrow on a table, and it was not long +before they attracted Bernardo’s attention. +</p> + +<p> +“I see you are a collector yourself,” he ventured, picking them up. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” answered Craig, offhand; “I picked them up yesterday at Sato’s. You know +the place?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes, I know Sato,” answered the curator, seemingly without the slightest +hesitation. “He has been in Mexico—is quite a student.” +</p> + +<p> +“And the other man, Otaka?” +</p> + +<p> +“Other man—Otaka? You mean his wife?” +</p> + +<p> +I saw Kennedy check a motion of surprise and came to the rescue with the +natural question: “His wife—with a beard and mustache?” +</p> + +<p> +It was Bernardo’s turn to be surprised. He looked at me a moment, then saw that +I meant it, and suddenly his face lighted up. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh,” he exclaimed, “that must have been on account of the immigration laws or +something of the sort. Otaka is his wife. The Ainus are much sought after by +the Japanese as wives. The women, you know, have a custom of tattooing +mustaches on themselves. It is hideous, but they think it is beautiful.” +</p> + +<p> +“I know,” I pursued, watching Kennedy’s interest in our conversation, “but this +was not tattooed.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, then, it must have been false,” insisted Bernardo. +</p> + +<p> +The curator chatted a few moments, during which I expected Kennedy to lead the +conversation around to Señora Herreria. But he did not, evidently fearing to +show his hand. +</p> + +<p> +“What did you make of it?” I asked, when he had gone. “Is he trying to hide +something?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think he has simplified the case,” remarked Craig, leaning back, his hands +behind his head, gazing up at the ceiling. “Hello, here’s Leslie! What did you +find, Doctor?” The coroner had entered with a look of awe on his face, as if +Kennedy had directed him by some sort of necromancy. +</p> + +<p> +“It was Señora Herreria!” he exclaimed. “She has been missing from the hotel +ever since late yesterday afternoon. What do you think of it?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think,” replied Kennedy, speaking slowly and deliberately, “that it is very +much like the Northrop case. You haven’t taken that up yet?” +</p> + +<p> +“Only superficially. What do you make of it?” asked the coroner. +</p> + +<p> +“I had an idea that it might be aconitin poisoning,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +Leslie glanced at him keenly for a moment. “Then you’ll never prove anything in +the laboratory,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“There are more ways of catching a criminal, Leslie,” put in Craig, “than are +set down in the medico-legal text-books. I shall depend on you and Jameson to +gather together a rather cosmopolitan crowd here to-night.” +</p> + +<p> +He said it with a quiet confidence which I could not gainsay, although I did +not understand. However, mostly with the official aid of Doctor Leslie, I +followed out his instructions, and it was indeed a strange party that assembled +that night. There were Doctor Bernardo; Sato, the curio dealer; Otaka, the +Ainu, and ourselves. Mrs. Northrop, of course, could not come. +</p> + +<p> +“Mexico,” began Craig, after he had said a few words explaining why he had +brought us together, “is full of historical treasure. To all intents and +purposes, the government says, ‘Come and dig.’ But when there are finds, then +the government swoops down on them for its own national museum. The finder +scarcely gets a chance to export them. However, now seemed to be the time to +Professor Northrop to smuggle his finds out of the country. +</p> + +<p> +“But evidently it could not be done without exciting all kinds of rumors and +suspicions. Stories seem to have spread far and fast about what he had +discovered. He realized the unsettled condition of the country—perhaps wanted +to confirm his reading of a certain inscription by consultation with one +scholar whom he thought he could trust. At any rate, he came home.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy paused, making use of the silence for emphasis. “You have all read of +the wealth that Cortez found in Mexico. Where are the gold and silver of the +<i>conquistadores?</i> Gone to the melting pot, centuries ago. But is there +none left? The Indians believe so. There are persons who would stop at +nothing—even at murder of American professors, murder of their own comrades, to +get at the secret.” +</p> + +<p> +He laid his hand almost lovingly on his powerful little microscope as he +resumed on another line of evidence. +</p> + +<p> +“And while we are on the subject of murders, two very similar deaths have +occurred,” he went on. “It is of no use to try to gloss them over. Frankly, I +suspected that they might have been caused by aconite poisoning. But, in the +case of such poisoning, not only is the lethal dose very small but our chemical +methods of detection are <i>nil</i>. The dose of the active principle, aconitin +nitrate, is about one six-hundredth of a grain. There are no color tests, no +reactions, as in the case of the other organic poisons.” +</p> + +<p> +I wondered what he was driving at. Was there, indeed, no test? Had the murderer +used the safest of poisons—one that left no clue? I looked covertly at Sato’s +face. It was impassive. Doctor Bernardo was visibly uneasy as Kennedy +proceeded. Cool enough up to the time of the mention of the treasure, I +fancied, now, that he was growing more and more nervous. +</p> + +<p> +Craig laid down on the table the reed stick with the little darkened cylinder +on the end. +</p> + +<p> +“That,” he said, “is a little article which I picked up beneath Northrop’s +window yesterday. It is a piece of <i>anno-noki</i>, or <i>bushi</i>.” I +fancied I saw just a glint of satisfaction in Otaka’s eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Like many barbarians,” continued Craig, “the Ainus from time immemorial have +prepared virulent poisons with which they charged their weapons of the chase +and warfare. The formulas for the preparations, as in the case of other arrow +poisons of other tribes, are known only to certain members, and the secret is +passed down from generation to generation as an heirloom, as it were. But in +this case it is no longer a secret. It has now been proved that the active +principle of this poison is aconite.” +</p> + +<p> +“If that is the case,” broke in Doctor Leslie, “it is hopeless to connect +anyone directly in that way with these murders. There is no test for aconitin.” +</p> + +<p> +I thought Sato’s face was more composed and impassive than ever. Doctor +Bernardo, however, was plainly excited. +</p> + +<p> +“What—no test—<i>none?</i>” asked Kennedy, leaning forward eagerly. Then, as if +he could restrain the answer to his own question no longer, he shot out: “How +about the new starch test just discovered by Professor Reichert, of the +University of Pennsylvania? Doubtless you never dreamed that starch may be a +means of detecting the nature of a poison in obscure cases in criminology, +especially in cases where the quantity of poison necessary to cause death is so +minute that no trace of it can be found in the blood. +</p> + +<p> +“The starch method is a new and extremely inviting subject to me. The +peculiarities of the starch of any plant are quite as distinctive of the plant +as are those of the hemoglobin crystals in the blood of an animal. I have +analyzed the evidence of my microscope in this case thoroughly. When the arrow +poison is introduced subcutaneously—say, by a person shooting a poisoned dart, +which he afterward removes in order to destroy the evidence—the lethal +constituents are rapidly absorbed. +</p> + +<p> +“But the starch remains in the wound. It can be recovered and studied +microscopically and can be definitely recognized. Doctor Reichert has published +a study of twelve hundred such starches from all sorts of plants. In this case, +it not only proves to be aconitin but the starch granules themselves can be +recognized. They came from this piece of arrow poison.” +</p> + +<p> +Every eye was fixed on him now. +</p> + +<p> +“Besides,” he rapped out, “in the soft soil beneath the window of Professor +Northrop’s room, I found footprints. I have only to compare the impressions I +took there and those of the people in this room, to prove that, while the real +murderer stood guard below the window, he sent some one more nimble up the rain +pipe to shoot the poisoned dart at Professor Northrop, and, later, to let down +a rope by which he, the instigator, could gain the room, remove the dart, and +obtain the key to the treasure he sought.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy was looking straight at Professor Bernardo. +</p> + +<p> +“A friend of mine in Mexico has written me about an inscription,” he burst out. +“I received the letter only to-day. As nearly as I can gather, there was an +impression that some of Northrop’s stuff would be valuable in proving the +alleged kinship between Mexico and Japan, perhaps to arouse hatred of the +United States.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—that is all very well,” insisted Kennedy. “But how about the treasure?” +</p> + +<p> +“Treasure?” repeated Bernardo, looking from one of us to another. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” pursued Craig relentlessly, “the treasure. You are an expert in reading +the hieroglyphics. By your own statement, you and Northrop had been going over +the stuff he had sent up. You know it.” +</p> + +<p> +Bernardo gave a quick glance from Kennedy to me. Evidently he saw that the +secret was out. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he said huskily, in a low tone, “Northrop and I were to follow the +directions after we had plotted them out and were to share it together on the +next expedition, which I could direct as a Mexican without so much suspicion. I +should still have shared it with his widow if this unfortunate affair had not +exposed the secret.” +</p> + +<p> +Bernardo had risen earnestly. +</p> + +<p> +“Kennedy,” he cried, “before God, if you will get back that stone and keep the +secret from going further than this room, I will prove what I have said by +dividing the Mixtec treasure with Mrs. Northrop and making her one of the +richest widows in the country!” +</p> + +<p> +“That is what I wanted to be sure of,” nodded Craig. “Bernardo, Señora +Herreria, of whom your friend wrote to you from Mexico, has been murdered in +the same way that Professor Northrop was. Otaka was sent by her husband to +murder Northrop, in order that they might obtain the so-called ‘Pillar of +Death’ and the key to the treasure. Then, when the <i>señora</i> was no doubt +under the influence of <i>sake</i> in the pretty little Oriental bower at the +curio shop, a quick jab, and Otaka had removed one who shared the secret with +them.” +</p> + +<p> +He had turned and faced the pair. +</p> + +<p> +“Sato,” he added, “you played on the patriotism of the <i>señora</i> until you +wormed from her the treasure secret. Evidently rumors of it had spread from +Mexican Indians to Japanese visitors. And then, Otaka, all jealousy over one +whom she, no doubt, justly considered a rival, completed your work by sending +her forth to die, unknown, on the street. Walter, ring up First Deputy +O’Connor. The stone is hidden somewhere in the curio shop. We can find it +without Sato’s help. The quicker such a criminal is lodged safely in jail, the +better for humanity.” +</p> + +<p> +Sato was on his feet, advancing cautiously toward Craig. I knew the dangers, +now, of <i>anno-noki</i>, as well as the wonders of <i>jujutsu</i>, and, with a +leap, I bounded past Bernardo and between Sato and Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +How it happened, I don’t know, but, an instant later, I was sprawling. +</p> + +<p> +Before I could recover myself, before even Craig had a chance to pull the +hair-trigger of his automatic, Sato had seized the Ainu arrow poison from the +table, had bitten the little cylinder in half, and had crammed the other half +into the mouth of Otaka. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap13"></a>CHAPTER XIII<br/> +THE RADIUM ROBBER</h2> + +<p> +Kennedy simply reached for the telephone and called an ambulance. But it was +purely perfunctory. Dr. Leslie himself was the only official who could handle +Sato’s case now. +</p> + +<p> +We had planned a little vacation for ourselves, but the planning came to +naught. The next night we spent on a sleeper. That in itself is work to me. +</p> + +<p> +It all came about through a hurried message from Murray Denison, president of +the Federal Radium Corporation. Nothing would do but that he should take both +Kennedy and myself with him post-haste to Pittsburgh at the first news of what +had immediately been called “the great radium robbery.” +</p> + +<p> +Of course the newspapers were full of it. The very novelty of an ultra-modern +cracksman going off with something worth upward of a couple of hundred thousand +dollars—and all contained in a few platinum tubes which could be tucked away in +a vest pocket—had something about it powerfully appealing to the imagination. +</p> + +<p> +“Most ingenious, but, you see, the trouble with that safe is that it was built +to keep radium <i>in</i>—not cracksmen <i>out</i>,” remarked Kennedy, when +Denison had rushed us from the train to take a look at the little safe in the +works of the Corporation. +</p> + +<p> +“Breaking into such a safe as this,” added Kennedy, after a cursory +examination, “is simple enough, after all.” +</p> + +<p> +It was, however, a remarkably ingenious contrivance, about three feet in height +and of a weight of perhaps a ton and a half, and all to house something +weighing only a few grains. +</p> + +<p> +“But,” Denison hastened to explain, “we had to protect the radium not only +against burglars, but, so to speak, against itself. Radium emanations pass +through steel and experiments have shown that the best metal to contain them is +lead. So, the difficulty was solved by making a steel outer case enclosing an +inside leaden shell three inches thick.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy had been toying thoughtfully with the door. +</p> + +<p> +“Then the door, too, had to be contrived so as to prevent any escape of the +emanations through joints. It is lathe turned and circular, a ‘dead fit.’ By +means of a special contrivance any slight looseness caused by wear and tear of +closing can be adjusted. And another feature. That is the appliance for +preventing the loss of emanation when the door is opened. Two valves have been +inserted into the door and before it is opened tubes with mercury are passed +through which collect and store the emanation.” +</p> + +<p> +“All very nice for the radium,” remarked Craig cheerfully. “But the fellow had +only to use an electric drill and the gram or more of radium was his.” +</p> + +<p> +“I know that—now,” ruefully persisted Denison. “But the safe was designed for +us specially. The fellow got into it and got away, as far as I can see, without +leaving a clue.” +</p> + +<p> +“Except one, of course,” interrupted Kennedy quickly. +</p> + +<p> +Denison looked at him a moment keenly, then nodded and said, “Yes—you are +right. You mean one which he must bear on himself?” +</p> + +<p> +“Exactly. You can’t carry a gram or more of radium bromide long with impunity. +The man to look for is one who in a few days will have somewhere on his body a +radium burn which will take months to heal. The very thing he stole is a +veritable Frankenstein’s monster bent on the destruction of the thief himself!” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy had meanwhile picked up one of the Corporation’s circulars lying on a +desk. He ran his eye down the list of names. +</p> + +<p> +“So, Hartley Haughton, the broker, is one of your stockholders,” mused Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +“Not only one but <i>the</i> one,” replied Denison with obvious pride. +</p> + +<p> +Haughton was a young man who had come recently into his fortune, and, while no +one believed it to be large, he had cut quite a figure in Wall Street. +</p> + +<p> +“You know, I suppose,” added Denison, “that he is engaged to Felicie Woods, the +daughter of Mrs. Courtney Woods?” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy did not, but said nothing. +</p> + +<p> +“A most delightful little girl,” continued Denison thoughtfully. “I have known +Mrs. Woods for some time. She wanted to invest, but I told her frankly that +this is, after all, a speculation. We may not be able to swing so big a +proposition, but, if not, no one can say we have taken a dollar of money from +widows and orphans.” +</p> + +<p> +“I should like to see the works,” nodded Kennedy approvingly. +</p> + +<p> +“By all means.” +</p> + +<p> +The plant was a row of long low buildings of brick on the outskirts of the +city, once devoted to the making of vanadium steel. The ore, as Denison +explained, was brought to Pittsburgh because he had found here already a +factory which could readily be turned into a plant for the extraction of +radium. Huge baths and vats and crucibles for the various acids and alkalis and +other processes used in treating the ore stood at various points. +</p> + +<p> +“This must be like extracting gold from sea water,” remarked Kennedy jocosely, +impressed by the size of the plant as compared to the product. +</p> + +<p> +“Except that after we get through we have something infinitely more precious +than gold,” replied Denison, “something which warrants the trouble and outlay. +Yes, the fact is that the percentage of radium in all such ores is even less +than of gold in sea water.” +</p> + +<p> +“Everything seems to be most carefully guarded,” remarked Kennedy as we +concluded our tour of the well-appointed works. +</p> + +<p> +He had gone over everything in silence, and now at last we had returned to the +safe. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he repeated slowly, as if confirming his original impression, “such an +amount of radium as was stolen wouldn’t occasion immediate discomfort to the +thief, I suppose, but later no infernal machine could be more dangerous to +him.” +</p> + +<p> +I pictured to myself the series of fearful works of mischief and terror that +might follow, a curse on the thief worse than that of the weirdest curses of +the Orient, the danger to the innocent, and the fact that in the hands of a +criminal it was an instrument for committing crimes that might defy detection. +</p> + +<p> +“There is nothing more to do here now,” he concluded. “I can see nothing for +the present except to go back to New York. The telltale burn may not be the +only clue, but if the thief is going to profit by his spoils we shall hear +about it best in New York or by cable from London, Paris, or some other +European city.” +</p> + +<p> +Our hurried departure from New York had not given us a chance to visit the +offices of the Radium Corporation for the distribution of the salts themselves. +They were in a little old office building on William Street, near the drug +district and yet scarcely a moment’s walk from the financial district. +</p> + +<p> +“Our head bookkeeper, Miss Wallace, is ill,” remarked Denison when we arrived +at the office, “but if there is anything I can do to help you, I shall be glad +to do it. We depend on Miss Wallace a great deal. Haughton says she is the +brains of the office.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy looked about the well-appointed suite curiously. +</p> + +<p> +“Is this another of those radium safes?” he asked, approaching one similar in +appearance to that which had been broken open already. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, only a little larger.” +</p> + +<p> +“How much is in it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Most of our supply. I should say about two and a half grams. Miss Wallace has +the record.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is of the same construction, I presume,” pursued Kennedy. “I wonder whether +the lead lining fits closely to the steel?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think not,” considered Denison. “As I remember there was a sort of +insulating air cushion or something of the sort.” +</p> + +<p> +Denison was quite eager to show us about. In fact ever since he had hustled us +out to view the scene of the robbery, his high nervous tension had given us +scarcely a moment’s rest. For hours he had talked radium, until I felt that he, +like his metal, must have an inexhaustible emanation of words. He was one of +those nervous, active little men, a born salesman, whether of ribbons or +radium. +</p> + +<p> +“We have just gone into furnishing radium water,” he went on, bustling about +and patting a little glass tank. +</p> + +<p> +I looked closely and could see that the water glowed in the dark with a +peculiar phosphorescence. +</p> + +<p> +“The apparatus for the treatment,” he continued, “consists of two glass and +porcelain receptacles. Inside the larger receptacle is placed the smaller, +which contains a tiny quantity of radium. Into the larger receptacle is poured +about a gallon of filtered water. The emanation from that little speck of +radium is powerful enough to penetrate its porcelain holder and charge the +water with its curative properties. From a tap at the bottom of the tank the +patient draws the number of glasses of water a day prescribed. For such +purposes the emanation within a day or two of being collected is as good as +radium itself. Why, this water is five thousand times as radioactive as the +most radioactive natural spring water.” +</p> + +<p> +“You must have control of a comparatively large amount of the metal,” suggested +Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +“We are, I believe, the largest holders of radium in the world,” he answered. +“I have estimated that all told there are not much more than ten grams, of +which Madame Curie has perhaps three, while Sir Ernest Cassel of London is the +holder of perhaps as much. We have nearly four grams, leaving about six or +seven for the rest of the world.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy nodded and continued to look about. +</p> + +<p> +“The Radium Corporation,” went on Denison, “has several large deposits of +radioactive ore in Utah in what is known as the Poor Little Rich Valley, a +valley so named because from being about the barrenest and most unproductive +mineral or agricultural hole in the hills, the sudden discovery of the +radioactive deposits has made it almost priceless.” +</p> + +<p> +He had entered a private office and was looking over some mail that had been +left on his desk during his absence. +</p> + +<p> +“Look at this,” he called, picking up a clipping from a newspaper which had +been laid there for his attention. “You see, we have them aroused.” +</p> + +<p> +We read the clipping together hastily: +</p> + +<h5>PLAN TO CORNER WORLD’S RADIUM</h5> + +<p> +L<small>ONDON</small>.—Plans are being matured to form a large corporation for +the monopoly of the existing and future supply of radium throughout the world. +The company is to be called Universal Radium, Limited, and the capital of ten +million dollars will be offered for public subscription at par simultaneously +in London, Paris and New York. +</p> + +<p> +The company’s business will be to acquire mines and deposits of radioactive +substances as well as the control of patents and processes connected with the +production of radium. The outspoken purpose of the new company is to obtain a +world-wide monopoly and maintain the price. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +“Ah—a competitor,” commented Kennedy, handing back the clipping. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. You know radium salts used always to come from Europe. Now we are getting +ready to do some exporting ourselves. Say,” he added excitedly, “there’s an +idea, possibly, in that.” +</p> + +<p> +“How?” queried Craig. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, since we should be the principal competitors to the foreign mines, +couldn’t this robbery have been due to the machinations of these schemers? To +my mind, the United States, because of its supply of radium-bearing ores, will +have to be reckoned with first in cornering the market. This is the point, +Kennedy. Would those people who seem to be trying to extend their new company +all over the world stop at anything in order to cripple us at the start?” +</p> + +<p> +How much longer Denison would have rattled on in his effort to explain the +robbery, I do not know. The telephone rang and a reporter from the +<i>Record</i>, who had just read my own story in the <i>Star</i>, asked for an +interview. I knew that it would be only a question of minutes now before the +other men were wearing a path out on the stairs, and we managed to get away +before the onrush began. +</p> + +<p> +“Walter,” said Kennedy, as soon as we had reached the street. “I want to get in +touch with Halsey Haughton. How can it be done?” +</p> + +<p> +I could think of nothing better at that moment than to inquire at the +<i>Star’s</i> Wall Street office, which happened to be around the corner. I +knew the men down there intimately, and a few minutes later we were whisked up +in the elevator to the office. +</p> + +<p> +They were as glad to see me as I was to see them, for the story of the robbery +had interested the financial district perhaps more than any other. +</p> + +<p> +“Where can I find Halsey Haughton at this hour?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Say,” exclaimed one of the men, “what’s the matter? There have been all kinds +of rumors in the Street about him to-day. Did you know he was ill?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” I answered. “Where is he?” +</p> + +<p> +“Out at the home of his fiancee, who is the daughter of Mrs. Courtney Woods, at +Glenclair.” +</p> + +<p> +“What’s the matter?” I persisted. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s just it. No one seems to know. They say—well—they say he has a cancer.” +</p> + +<p> +Halsey Haughton suffering from cancer? It was such an uncommon thing to hear of +a young man that I looked up quickly in surprise. Then all at once it flashed +over me that Denison and Kennedy had discussed the matter of burns from the +stolen radium. Might not this be, instead of cancer, a radium burn? +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy, who had been standing a little apart from me while I was talking with +the boys, signaled to me with a quick glance not to say too much, and a few +minutes later we were on the street again. +</p> + +<p> +I knew without being told that he was bound by the next train to the pretty +little New Jersey suburb of Glenclair. +</p> + +<p> +It was late when we arrived, yet Kennedy had no hesitation in calling at the +quaint home of Mrs. Courtney Woods on Woodridge Avenue. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Woods, a well-set-up woman of middle age, who had retained her youth and +good looks in a remarkable manner, met us in the foyer. Briefly, Kennedy +explained that we had just come in from Pittsburgh with Mr. Denison and that it +was very important that we should see Haughton at once. +</p> + +<p> +We had hardly told her the object of our visit when a young woman of perhaps +twenty-two or three, a very pretty girl, with all the good looks of her mother +and a freshness which only youth can possess, tiptoed quietly downstairs. Her +face told plainly that she was deeply worried over the illness of her fiance. +</p> + +<p> +“Who is it, mother?” she whispered from the turn in the stairs. “Some gentlemen +from the company? Hartley’s door was open when the bell rang, and he thought he +heard something said about the Pittsburgh affair.” +</p> + +<p> +Though she had whispered, it had not been for the purpose of concealing +anything from us, but rather that the keen ears of her patient might not catch +the words. She cast an inquiring glance at us. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” responded Kennedy in answer to her look, modulating his tone. “We have +just left Mr. Denison at the office. Might we see Mr. Haughton for a moment? I +am sure that nothing we can say or do will be as bad for him as our going away, +now that he knows that we are here.” +</p> + +<p> +The two women appeared to consult for a moment. +</p> + +<p> +“Felicie,” called a rather nervous voice from the second floor, “is it some one +from the company?” +</p> + +<p> +“Just a moment, Hartley,” she answered, then, lower to her mother, added, “I +don’t think it can do any harm, do you, mother?” +</p> + +<p> +“You remember the doctor’s orders, my dear.” +</p> + +<p> +Again the voice called her. +</p> + +<p> +“Hang the doctor’s orders,” the girl exclaimed, with an air of almost +masculinity. “It can’t be half so bad as to have him worry. Will you promise +not to stay long? We expect Dr. Bryant in a few moments, anyway.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap14"></a>CHAPTER XIV<br/> +THE SPINTHARISCOPE</h2> + +<p> +We followed her upstairs and into Haughton’s room, where he was lying in bed, +propped up by pillows. Haughton certainly was ill. There was no mistake about +that. He was a tall, gaunt man with an air about him that showed that he found +illness very irksome. Around his neck was a bandage, and some adhesive tape at +the back showed that a plaster of some sort had been placed there. +</p> + +<p> +As we entered his eyes traveled restlessly from the face of the girl to our own +in an inquiring manner. He stretched out a nervous hand to us, while Kennedy in +a few short sentences explained how we had become associated with the case and +what we had seen already. +</p> + +<p> +“And there is not a clue?” he repeated as Craig finished. +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing tangible yet,” reiterated Kennedy. “I suppose you have heard of this +rumor from London of a trust that is going into the radium field +internationally?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he answered, “that is the thing you read to me in the morning papers, +you remember, Felicie. Denison and I have heard such rumors before. If it is a +fight, then we shall give them a fight. They can’t hold us up, if Denison is +right in thinking that they are at the bottom of this—this robbery.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you think he may be right?” shot out Kennedy quickly. +</p> + +<p> +Haughton glanced nervously from Kennedy to me. +</p> + +<p> +“Really,” he answered, “you see how impossible it is for me to have an opinion? +You and Denison have been over the ground. You know much more about it than I +do. I am afraid I shall have to defer to you.” +</p> + +<p> +Again we heard the bell downstairs, and a moment later a cheery voice, as Mrs. +Woods met some one down in the foyer, asked, “How is the patient to-night?” +</p> + +<p> +We could not catch the reply. +</p> + +<p> +“Dr. Bryant, my physician,” put in Haughton. “Don’t go. I will assume the +responsibility for your being here. Hello, Doctor. Why, I’m much the same +to-night, thank you. At least no worse since I took your advice and went to +bed.” +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Bryant was a bluff, hearty man, with the personal magnetism which goes with +the making of a successful physician. He had mounted the stairs quietly but +rapidly, evidently prepared to see us. +</p> + +<p> +“Would you mind waiting in this little dressing room?” asked the doctor, +motioning to another, smaller room adjoining. +</p> + +<p> +He had taken from his pocket a little instrument with a dial face like a watch, +which he attached to Haughton’s wrist. “A pocket instrument to measure blood +pressure,” whispered Craig, as we entered the little room. +</p> + +<p> +While the others were gathered about Haughton, we stood in the next room, out +of earshot. Kennedy had leaned his elbow on a chiffonier. As he looked about +the little room, more from force of habit than because he thought he might +discover anything, Kennedy’s eye rested on a glass tray on the top in which lay +some pins, a collar button or two, which Haughton had apparently just taken +off, and several other little unimportant articles. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy bent over to look at the glass tray more closely, a puzzled look +crossed his face, and with a glance at the other room he gathered up the tray +and its contents. +</p> + +<p> +“Keep up a good courage,” said Dr. Bryant. “You’ll come out all right, +Haughton.” Then as he left the bedroom he added to us, “Gentlemen, I hope you +will pardon me, but if you could postpone the remainder of your visit until a +later day, I am sure you will find it more satisfactory.” +</p> + +<p> +There was an air of finality about the doctor, though nothing unpleasant in it. +We followed him down the stairs, and as we did so, Felicie, who had been +waiting in a reception room, appeared before the portieres, her earnest eyes +fixed on his kindly face. +</p> + +<p> +“Dr. Bryant,” she appealed, “is he—is he, really—so badly?” +</p> + +<p> +The Doctor, who had apparently known her all her life, reached down and took +one of her hands, patting it with his own in a fatherly way. “Don’t worry, +little girl,” he encouraged. “We are going to come out all right—all right.” +</p> + +<p> +She turned from him to us and, with a bright forced smile which showed the +stuff she was made of, bade us good night. +</p> + +<p> +Outside, the Doctor, apparently regretting that he had virtually forced us out, +paused before his car. “Are you going down toward the station? Yes? I am going +that far. I should be glad to drive you there.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy climbed into the front seat, leaving me in the rear where the wind +wafted me their brief conversation as we sped down Woodbridge Avenue. +</p> + +<p> +“What seems to be the trouble?” asked Craig. +</p> + +<p> +“Very high blood pressure, for one thing,” replied the Doctor frankly. +</p> + +<p> +“For which the latest thing is the radium water cure, I suppose?” ventured +Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, radioactive water is one cure for hardening of the arteries. But I +didn’t say he had hardening of the arteries. Still, he is taking the water, +with good results. You are from the company?” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy nodded. +</p> + +<p> +“It was the radium water that first interested him in it. Why, we found a +pressure of 230 pounds, which is frightful, and we have brought it down to 150, +not far from normal.” +</p> + +<p> +“Still that could have nothing to do with the sore on his neck,” hazarded +Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +The Doctor looked at him quickly, then ahead at the path of light which his +motor shed on the road. +</p> + +<p> +He said nothing, but I fancied that even he felt there was something strange in +his silence over the new complication. He did not give Kennedy a chance to ask +whether there were any other such sores. +</p> + +<p> +“At any rate,” he said, as he throttled down his engine with a flourish before +the pretty little Glenclair station, “that girl needn’t worry.” +</p> + +<p> +There was evidently no use in trying to extract anything further from him. He +had said all that medical ethics or detective skill could get from him. We +thanked him and turned to the ticket window to see how long we should have to +wait. +</p> + +<p> +“Either that doctor doesn’t know what he is talking about or he is concealing +something,” remarked Craig, as we paced up and down the platform. “I am +inclined to read the enigma in the latter way.” +</p> + +<p> +Nothing more passed between us during the journey back, and we hurried directly +to the laboratory, late as it was. Kennedy had evidently been revolving +something over and over in his mind, for the moment he had switched on the +light, he unlocked one of his air-and dust-proof cabinets and took from it an +instrument which he placed on a table before him. +</p> + +<p> +It was a peculiar-looking instrument, like a round glass electric battery with +a cylinder atop, smaller and sticking up like a safety valve. On that were an +arm, a dial, and a lens fixed in such a way as to read the dial. I could not +see what else the rather complicated little apparatus consisted of, but inside, +when Kennedy brought near it the pole of a static electric machine two delicate +thin leaves of gold seemed to fly wide apart when it was charged. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy had brought the glass tray near the thing. Instantly the leaves +collapsed and he made a reading through the lens. +</p> + +<p> +“What is it?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“A radioscope,” he replied, still observing the scale. “Really a very sensitive +gold leaf electroscope, devised by one of the students of Madame Curie. This +method of detection is far more sensitive even than the spectroscope.” +</p> + +<p> +“What does it mean when the leaves collapse?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Radium has been near that tray,” he answered. “It is radioactive. I suspected +it first when I saw that violet color. That is what radium does to that kind of +glass. You see, if radium exists in a gram of inactive matter only to the +extent of one in ten-thousand million parts its presence can be readily +detected by this radioscope, and everything that has been rendered radioactive +is the same. Ordinarily the air between the gold leaves is insulating. Bringing +something radioactive near them renders the air a good conductor and the leaves +fall under the radiation.” +</p> + +<p> +“Wonderful!” I exclaimed, marveling at the delicacy of it. +</p> + +<p> +“Take radium water,” he went on, “sufficiently impregnated with radium +emanations to be luminous in the dark, like that water of Denison’s. It would +do the same. In fact all mineral waters and the so-called curarive muds like +fango are slightly radioactive. There seems to be a little radium everywhere on +earth that experiments have been made, even in the interiors of buildings. It +is ubiquitous. We are surrounded and permeated by radiations—that soil out +there on the campus, the air of this room, all. But,” he added contemplatively, +“there is something different about that tray. A lot of radium has been near +that, and recently.” +</p> + +<p> +“How about that bandage about Haughton’s neck?” I asked suddenly. “Do you think +radium could have had anything to do with that?” “Well, as to burns, there is +no particular immediate effect usually, and sometimes even up to two weeks or +more, unless the exposure has been long and to a considerable quantity. Of +course radium keeps itself three or four degrees warmer than other things about +it constantly. But that isn’t what does the harm. It is continually emitting +little corpuscles, which I’ll explain some other time, traveling all the way +from twenty to one hundred and thirty thousand miles a second, and these +corpuscles blister and corrode the flesh like quick-moving missiles bombarding +it. The gravity of such lesions increases with the purity of the radium. For +instance I have known an exposure of half an hour to a comparatively small +quantity through a tube, a box and the clothes to produce a blister fifteen +days later. Curie said he wouldn’t trust himself in a room with a kilogram of +it. It would destroy his eyesight, burn off his skin and kill him eventually. +Why, even after a slight exposure your clothes are radioactive—the electroscope +will show that.” +</p> + +<p> +He was still fumbling with the glass plate and the various articles on it. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s something very peculiar about all this,” he muttered, almost to +himself. +</p> + +<p> +Tired by the quick succession of events of the past two days, I left Kennedy +still experimenting in his laboratory and retired, still wondering when the +real clue was to develop. Who could it have been who bore the tell-tale burn? +Was the mark hidden by the bandage about Haughton’s neck the brand of the +stolen tubes? Or were there other marks on his body which we could not see? +</p> + +<p> +No answer came to me, and I fell asleep and woke up without a radiation of +light on the subject. Kennedy spent the greater part of the day still at work +at his laboratory, performing some very delicate experiments. Finding nothing +to do there, I went down to the <i>Star</i> office and spent my time reading +the reports that came in from the small army of reporters who had been assigned +to run down clues in the case which was the sensation of the moment. I have +always felt my own lips sealed in such cases, until the time came that the +story was complete and Kennedy released me from any further need of silence. +The weird and impossible stories which came in not only to the <i>Star</i> but +to the other papers surely did make passable copy in this instance, but with my +knowledge of the case I could see that not one of them brought us a step nearer +the truth. +</p> + +<p> +One thing which uniformly puzzled the newspapers was the illness of Haughton +and his enforced idleness at a time which was of so much importance to the +company which he had promoted and indeed very largely financed. Then, of +course, there was the romantic side of his engagement to Felicie Woods. +</p> + +<p> +Just what connection Felicie Woods had with the radium robbery if any, I was +myself unable quite to fathom. Still, that made no difference to the papers. +She was pretty and therefore they published her picture, three columns deep, +with Haughton and Denison, who were intimately concerned with the real loss in +little ovals perhaps an inch across and two inches in the opposite dimension. +</p> + +<p> +The late afternoon news editions had gone to press, and I had given up in +despair, determined to go up to the laboratory and sit around idly watching +Kennedy with his mystifying experiments, in preference to waiting for him to +summon me. +</p> + +<p> +I had scarcely arrived and settled myself to an impatient watch, when an +automobile drove up furiously, and Denison himself, very excited, jumped out +and dashed into the laboratory. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:100%;"> +<img src="images/img01.jpg" width="396" height="650" alt="[Illustration]" /> +<p class="caption">Denison himself, very excited, jumped out and dashed into +the laboratory.</p> +</div> + +<p> +“What’s the matter?” asked Kennedy, looking up from a test tube which he had +been examining, with an air for all the world expressive of “Why so hot, little +man?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve had a threat,” ejaculated Denison. +</p> + +<p> +He laid on one of the laboratory tables a letter, without heading and without +signature, written in a disguised hand, with an evident attempt to simulate the +cramped script of a foreign penmanship. +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“I know who did the Pittsburgh job. The same party is out to ruin Federal +Radium. Remember Pittsburgh and be prepared! +</p> + +<p class="right"> +“A S<small>TOCKHOLDER</small>.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well?” demanded Kennedy, looking up. +</p> + +<p> +“That can have only one meaning,” asserted Denison. +</p> + +<p> +“What is that?” inquired Kennedy coolly, as if to confirm his own +interpretation. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, another robbery—here in New York, of course.” +</p> + +<p> +“But who would do it?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Who?” repeated Denison. “Some one representing that European combine, of +course. That is only part of the Trust method—ruin of competitors whom they +cannot absorb.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you have refused to go into the combine? You know who is backing it?” +</p> + +<p> +“No—no,” admitted Denison reluctantly. “We have only signified our intent to go +it alone, as often as anyone either with or without authority has offered to +buy us out. No, I do not even know who the people are. They never act in the +open. The only hints I have ever received were through perfectly reputable +brokers acting for others.” +</p> + +<p> +“Does Haughton know of this note?” asked Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. As soon as I received it, I called him up.” +</p> + +<p> +“What did he say?” +</p> + +<p> +“He said to disregard it. But—you know what condition he is in. I don’t know +what to do, whether to surround the office by a squad of detectives or remove +the radium to a regular safety deposit vault, even at the loss of the +emanation. Haughton has left it to me.” +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly the thought flashed across my mind that perhaps Haughton could act in +this uninterested fashion because he had no fear of ruin either way. Might he +not be playing a game with the combination in which he had protected himself so +that he would win, no matter what happened? +</p> + +<p> +“What shall I do?” asked Denison. “It is getting late.” +</p> + +<p> +“Neither,” decided Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +Denison shook his head. “No,” he said, “I shall have some one watch there, +anyhow.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap15"></a>CHAPTER XV<br/> +THE ASPHYXIATING SAFE</h2> + +<p> +Denison had scarcely gone to arrange for some one to watch the office that +night, when Kennedy, having gathered up his radioscope and packed into a parcel +a few other things from various cabinets, announced: “Walter, I must see that +Miss Wallace, right away. Denison has already given me her address. Call a cab +while I finish clearing up here. I don’t like the looks of this thing, even if +Haughton does neglect it.” +</p> + +<p> +We found Miss Wallace at a modest boarding-house in an old but still +respectable part of the city. She was a very pretty girl, of the slender type, +rather a business woman than one given much to amusement. She had been ill and +was still ill. That was evident from the solicitous way in which the motherly +landlady scrutinized two strange callers. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy presented a card from Denison, and she came down to the parlor to see +us. +</p> + +<p> +“Miss Wallace,” began Kennedy, “I know it is almost cruel to trouble you when +you are not feeling like office work, but since the robbery of the safe at +Pittsburgh, there have been threats of a robbery of the New York office.” +</p> + +<p> +She started involuntarily, and it was evident, I thought, that she was in a +very high-strung state. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh,” she cried, “why, the loss means ruin to Mr. Denison!” +</p> + +<p> +There were genuine tears in her eyes as she said it. +</p> + +<p> +“I thought you would be willing to aid us,” pursued Kennedy sympathetically. +“Now, for one thing, I want to be perfectly sure just how much radium the +Corporation owns, or rather owned before the first robbery.” +</p> + +<p> +“The books will show it,” she said simply. +</p> + +<p> +“They will?” commented Kennedy. “Then if you will explain to me briefly just +the system you used in keeping account of it, perhaps I need not trouble you +any more.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll go down there with you,” she answered bravely. “I’m better to-day, +anyhow, I think.” +</p> + +<p> +She had risen, but it was evident that she was not as strong as she wanted us +to think. +</p> + +<p> +“The least I can do is to make it as easy as possible by going in a car,” +remarked Kennedy, following her into the hall where there was a telephone. +</p> + +<p> +The hallway was perfectly dark, yet as she preceded us I could see that the +diamond pin which held her collar in the back sparkled as if a lighted candle +had been brought near it. I had noticed in the parlor that she wore a handsome +tortoiseshell comb set with what I thought were other brilliants, but when I +looked I saw now that there was not the same sparkle to the comb which held her +dark hair in a soft mass. I noticed these little things at the time, not +because I thought they had any importance, but merely by chance, wondering at +the sparkle of the one diamond which had caught my eye. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you make of her?” I asked as Kennedy finished telephoning. +</p> + +<p> +“A very charming and capable girl,” he answered noncommittally. +</p> + +<p> +“Did you notice how that diamond in her neck sparkled?” I asked quickly. +</p> + +<p> +He nodded. Evidently it had attracted his attention, too. +</p> + +<p> +“What makes it?” I pursued. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you know radium rays will make a diamond fluoresce in the dark.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” I objected, “but how about those in the comb?” +</p> + +<p> +“Paste, probably,” he answered tersely, as we heard her foot on the landing. +“The rays won’t affect paste.” +</p> + +<p> +It was indeed a shame to take advantage of Miss Wallace’s loyalty to Denison, +but she was so game about it that I knew only the utmost necessity on Kennedy’s +part would have prompted him to do it. She had a key to the office so that it +was not necessary to wait for Denison, if indeed we could have found him. +</p> + +<p> +Together she and Kennedy went over the records. It seemed that there were in +the safe twenty-five platinum tubes of one hundred milligrams each, and that +there had been twelve of the same amount at Pittsburgh. Little as it seemed in +weight it represented a fabulous fortune. +</p> + +<p> +“You have not the combination?” inquired Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +“No. Only Mr. Denison has that. What are you going to do to protect the safe +to-night?” she asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing especially,” evaded Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing?” she repeated in amazement. +</p> + +<p> +“I have another plan,” he said, watching her intently. “Miss Wallace, it was +too much to ask you to come down here. You are ill.” +</p> + +<p> +She was indeed quite pale, as if the excitement had been an overexertion. +</p> + +<p> +“No, indeed,” she persisted. Then, feeling her own weakness, she moved toward +the door of Denison’s office where there was a leather couch. “Let me rest here +a moment. I do feel queer. I—” +</p> + +<p> +She would have fallen if he had not sprung forward and caught her as she sank +to the floor, overcome by the exertion. +</p> + +<p> +Together we carried her in to the couch, and as we did so the comb from her +hair clattered to the floor. +</p> + +<p> +Craig threw open the window, and bathed her face with water until there was a +faint flutter of the eyelids. +</p> + +<p> +“Walter,” he said, as she began to revive, “I leave her to you. Keep her quiet +for a few moments. She has unintentionally given me just the opportunity I +want.” +</p> + +<p> +While she was yet hovering between consciousness and unconsciousness on the +couch, he had unwrapped the package which he had brought with him. For a moment +he held the comb which she had dropped near the radioscope. With a low +exclamation of surprise he shoved it into his pocket. +</p> + +<p> +Then from the package he drew a heavy piece of apparatus which looked as if it +might be the motor part of an electric fan, only in place of the fan he fitted +a long, slim, vicious-looking steel bit. A flexible wire attached the thing to +the electric light circuit and I knew that it was an electric drill. With his +coat off he tugged at the little radium safe until he had moved it out, then +dropped on his knees behind it and switched the current on in the electric +drill. +</p> + +<p> +It was a tedious process to drill through the steel of the outer casing of the +safe and it was getting late. I shut the door to the office so that Miss +Wallace could not see. +</p> + +<p> +At last by the cessation of the low hum of the boring, I knew that he had +struck the inner lead lining. Quietly I opened the door and stepped out. He was +injecting something from an hermetically sealed lead tube into the opening he +had made and allowing it to run between the two linings of lead and steel. Then +using the tube itself he sealed the opening he had made and dabbed a little +black over it. +</p> + +<p> +Quickly he shoved the safe back, then around it concealed several small coils +with wires also concealed and leading out through a window to a court. +</p> + +<p> +“We’ll catch the fellow this time,” he remarked as he worked. “If you ever have +any idea, Walter, of going into the burglary business, it would be well to +ascertain if the safes have any of these little selenium cells as suggested by +my friend, Mr. Hammer, the inventor. For by them an alarm can be given miles +away the moment an intruder’s bull’s-eye falls on a hidden cell sensitive to +light.” +</p> + +<p> +While I was delegated to take Miss Wallace home, Kennedy made arrangements with +a small shopkeeper on the ground floor of a building that backed up on the +court for the use of his back room that night, and had already set up a bell +actuated by a system of relays which the weak current from the selenium cells +could operate. +</p> + +<p> +It was not until nearly midnight that he was ready to leave the laboratory +again, where he had been busily engaged in studying the tortoiseshell comb +which Miss Wallace in her weakness had forgotten. +</p> + +<p> +The little shopkeeper let us in sleepily and Kennedy deposited a large round +package on a chair in the back of the shop, as well as a long piece of rubber +tubing. Nothing had happened so far. +</p> + +<p> +As we waited the shopkeeper, now wide awake and not at all unconvinced that we +were bent on some criminal operation, hung around. Kennedy did not seem to +care. He drew from his pocket a little shiny brass instrument in a lead case, +which looked like an abbreviated microscope. +</p> + +<p> +“Look through it,” he said, handing it to me. +</p> + +<p> +I looked and could see thousands of minute sparks. +</p> + +<p> +“What is it?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“A spinthariscope. In that it is possible to watch the bombardment of the +countless little corpuscles thrown off by radium, as they strike on the zinc +blende crystal which forms the base. When radium was originally discovered, the +interest was merely in its curious properties, its power to emit invisible rays +which penetrated solid substances and rendered things fluorescent, of expending +energy without apparent loss. +</p> + +<p> +“Then came the discovery,” he went on, “of its curative powers. But the first +results were not convincing. Still, now that we know the reasons why radium may +be dangerous and how to protect ourselves against them we know we possess one +of the most wonderful of curative agencies.” +</p> + +<p> +I was thinking rather of the dangers than of the beneficence of radium just +now, but Kennedy continued. +</p> + +<p> +“It has cured many malignant growths that seemed hopeless, brought back +destroyed cells, exercised good effects in diseases of the liver and intestines +and even the baffling diseases of the arteries. The reason why harm, at first, +as well as good came, is now understood. Radium emits, as I told you before, +three kinds of rays, the alpha, beta, and gamma rays, each with different +properties. The emanation is another matter. It does not concern us in this +case, as you will see.” +</p> + +<p> +Fascinated as I was by the mystery of the case, I began to see that he was +gradually arriving at an explanation which had baffled everyone else. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, the alpha rays are the shortest,” he launched forth, “in length let us +say one inch. They exert a very destructive effect on healthy tissue. That is +the cause of injury. They are stopped by glass, aluminum and other metals, and +are really particles charged with positive electricity. The beta rays come +next, say, about an inch and a half. They stimulate cell growth. Therefore they +are dangerous in cancer, though good in other ways. They can be stopped by +lead, and are really particles charged with negative electricity. The gamma +rays are the longest, perhaps three inches long, and it is these rays which +effect cures, for they check the abnormal and stimulate the normal cells. They +penetrate lead. Lead seems to filter them out from the other rays. And at three +inches the other rays don’t reach, anyhow. The gamma rays are not charged with +electricity at all, apparently.” +</p> + +<p> +He had brought a little magnet near the spinthariscope. I looked into it. +</p> + +<p> +“A magnet,” he explained, “shows the difference between the alpha, beta, and +gamma rays. You see those weak and wobbly rays that seem to fall to one side? +Those are the alpha rays. They have a strong action, though, on tissues and +cells. Those falling in the other direction are the beta rays. The gamma rays +seem to flow straight.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then it is the alpha rays with which we are concerned mostly now?” I queried, +looking up. +</p> + +<p> +“Exactly. That is why, when radium is unprotected or insufficiently protected +and comes too near, it is destructive of healthy cells, produces burns, sores, +which are most difficult to heal. It is with the explanation of such sores that +we must deal.” +</p> + +<p> +It was growing late. We had waited patiently now for some time. Kennedy had +evidently reserved this explanation, knowing we should have to wait. Still +nothing happened. +</p> + +<p> +Added to the mystery of the violet-colored glass plate was now that of the +luminescent diamond. I was about to ask Kennedy point-blank what he thought of +them, when suddenly the little bell before us began to buzz feebly under the +influence of a current. +</p> + +<p> +I gave a start. The faithful little selenium cell burglar alarm had done the +trick. I knew that selenium was a good conductor of electricity in the light, +poor in the dark. Some one had, therefore, flashed a light on one of the cells +in the Corporation office. It was the moment for which Kennedy had prepared. +</p> + +<p> +Seizing the round package and the tubing, he dashed out on the street and +around the corner. He tried the door opening into the Radium Corporation +hallway. It was closed, but unlocked. As it yielded and we stumbled in, up the +old worn wooden stairs of the building, I knew that there must be some one +there. +</p> + +<p> +A terrific, penetrating, almost stunning odor seemed to permeate the air even +in the hall. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy paused at the door of the office, tried it, found it unlocked, but did +not open it. +</p> + +<p> +“That smell is ethyldichloracetate,” he explained. “That was what I injected +into the air cushion of that safe between the two linings. I suppose my man +here used an electric drill. He might have used thermit or an oxyacetylene +blowpipe for all I would care. These fumes would discourage a cracksman from +‘soup’ to nuts,” he laughed, thoroughly pleased at the protection modern +science had enabled him to devise. +</p> + +<p> +As we stood an instant by the door, I realized what had happened. We had +captured our man. He was asphyxiated! +</p> + +<p> +Yet how were we to get to him? Would Craig leave him in there, perhaps to die? +To go in ourselves meant to share his fate, whatever might be the effect of the +drug. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy had torn the wrapping off the package. From it he drew a huge globe +with bulging windows of glass in the front and several curious arrangements on +it at other points. To it he fitted the rubber tubing and a little pump. Then +he placed the globe over his head, like a diver’s helmet, and fastened some +air-tight rubber arrangement about his neck and shoulders. +</p> + +<p> +“Pump, Walter!” he shouted. “This is an oxygen helmet such as is used in +entering mines filled with deadly gases.” +</p> + +<p> +Without another word he was gone into the blackness of the noxious stifle which +filled the Radium Corporation office since the cracksman had struck the +unexpected pocket of rapidly evaporating stuff. +</p> + +<p> +I pumped furiously. +</p> + +<p> +Inside I could hear him blundering around. What was he doing? +</p> + +<p> +He was coming back slowly. Was he, too, overcome? +</p> + +<p> +As he emerged into the darkness of the hallway where I myself was almost +sickened, I saw that he was dragging with him a limp form. +</p> + +<p> +A rush of outside air from the street door seemed to clear things a little. +Kennedy tore off the oxygen helmet and dropped down on his knees beside the +figure, working its arms in the most approved manner of resuscitation. +</p> + +<p> +“I think we can do it without calling on the pulmotor,” he panted. “Walter, the +fumes have cleared away enough now in the outside office. Open a window—and +keep that street door open, too.” +</p> + +<p> +I did so, found the switch and turned on the lights. +</p> + +<p> +It was Denison himself! +</p> + +<p> +For many minutes Kennedy worked over him. I bent down, loosened his collar and +shirt, and looked eagerly at his chest for the tell-tale marks of the radium +which I felt sure must be there. There was not even a discoloration. +</p> + +<p> +Not a word was said, as Kennedy brought the stupefied little man around. +</p> + +<p> +Denison, pale, shaken, was leaning back now in a big office chair, gasping and +holding his head. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy, before him, reached down into his pocket and handed him the +spinthariscope. +</p> + +<p> +“You see that?” he demanded. +</p> + +<p> +Denison looked through the eyepiece. +</p> + +<p> +“Wh—where did you get so much of it?” he asked, a queer look on his face. +</p> + +<p> +“I got that bit of radium from the base of the collar button of Hartley +Haughton,” replied Kennedy quietly, “a collar button which some one intimate +with him had substituted for his own, bringing that deadly radium with only the +minutest protection of a thin strip of metal close to the back of his neck, +near the spinal cord and the medulla oblongata which controls blood pressure. +That collar button was worse than the poisoned rings of the Borgias. And there +is more radium in the pretty gift of a tortoiseshell comb with its paste +diamonds which Miss Wallace wore in her hair. Only a fraction of an inch, not +enough to cut off the deadly alpha rays, protected the wearers of those +articles.” +</p> + +<p> +He paused a moment, while surging through my mind came one after another the +explanations of the hitherto inexplicable. Denison seemed almost to cringe in +the chair, weak already from the fumes. +</p> + +<p> +“Besides,” went on Kennedy remorselessly, “when I went in there to drag you +out, I saw the safe open. I looked. There was nothing in those pretty platinum +tubes, as I suspected. European trust—bah! All the cheap devices of a faker +with a confederate in London to send a cablegram—and another in New York to +send a threatening letter.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy extended an accusing forefinger at the man cowering before him. +</p> + +<p> +“This is nothing but a get-rich-quick scheme, Denison. There never was a +milligram of radium in the Poor Little Rich Valley, not a milligram here in all +the carefully kept reports of Miss Wallace—except what was bought outside by +the Corporation with the money it collected from its dupes. Haughton has been +fleeced. Miss Wallace, blinded by her loyalty to you—you will always find such +a faithful girl in such schemes as yours—has been fooled. +</p> + +<p> +“And how did you repay it? What was cleverer, you said to yourself, than to +seem to be robbed of what you never had, to blame it on a bitter rival who +never existed? Then to make assurance doubly sure, you planned to disable, +perhaps get rid of the come-on whom you had trimmed, and the faithful girl +whose eyes you had blinded to your gigantic swindle. +</p> + +<p> +“Denison,” concluded Kennedy, as the man drew back, his very face convicting +him, “Denison, you are the radium robber—robber in another sense!” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap16"></a>CHAPTER XVI<br/> +THE DEAD LINE</h2> + +<p> +Maiden Lane, no less than Wall Street, was deeply interested in the radium +case. In fact, it seemed that one case in this section of the city led to +another. +</p> + +<p> +Naturally, the <i>Star</i> and the other papers made much of the capture of +Denison. Still, I was not prepared for the host of Maiden Lane cases that +followed. Many of them were essentially trivial. But one proved to be of +extreme importance. +</p> + +<p> +“Professor Kennedy, I have just heard of your radium case, and I—I feel that I +can—trust you.” +</p> + +<p> +There was a note of appeal in the hesitating voice of the tall, heavily veiled +woman whose card had been sent up to us with a nervous “Urgent” written across +its face. +</p> + +<p> +It was very early in the morning, but our visitor was evidently completely +unnerved by some news which she had just received and which had sent her +posting to see Craig. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy met her gaze directly with a look that arrested her involuntary effort +to avoid it again. She must have read in his eyes more than in his words that +she might trust him. +</p> + +<p> +“I—I have a confession to make,” she faltered. +</p> + +<p> +“Please sit down, Mrs. Moulton,” he said simply. “It is my business to receive +confidences—and to keep them.” +</p> + +<p> +She sank into, rather than sat down in, the deep leather rocker beside his +desk, and now for the first time raised her veil. +</p> + +<p> +Antoinette Moulton was indeed stunning, an exquisite creature with a wonderful +charm of slender youth, brightness of eye and brunette radiance. +</p> + +<p> +I knew that she had been on the musical comedy stage and had had a rapid rise +to a star part before her marriage to Lynn Moulton, the wealthy lawyer, almost +twice her age. I knew also that she had given up the stage, apparently without +a regret. Yet there was something strange about the air of secrecy of her +visit. Was there a hint in it of a disagreement between the Moultons, I +wondered, as I waited while Kennedy reassured her. +</p> + +<p> +Her distress was so unconcealed that Craig, for the moment, laid aside his +ordinary inquisitorial manner. “Tell me just as much or just as little as you +choose, Mrs. Moulton,” he added tactfully. “I will do my best.” +</p> + +<p> +A look almost of gratitude crossed her face. +</p> + +<p> +“When we were married,” she began again, “my husband gave me a beautiful +diamond necklace. Oh, it must have been worth a hundred thousand dollars +easily. It was splendid. Everyone has heard of it. You know, Lynn—er—Mr. +Moulton, has always been an enthusiastic collector of jewels.” +</p> + +<p> +She paused again and Kennedy nodded reassuringly. I knew the thought in his +mind. Moulton had collected one gem that was incomparable with all the hundred +thousand dollar necklaces in existence. +</p> + +<p> +“Several months ago.” she went on rapidly, still avoiding his eyes and forcing +the words from her reluctant lips, “I—oh, I needed money—terribly.” +</p> + +<p> +She had risen and faced him, pressing her daintily gloved hands together in a +little tremble of emotion which was none the less genuine because she had +studied the art of emotion. +</p> + +<p> +“I took the necklace to a jeweler, Herman Schloss, of Maiden Lane, a man with +whom my husband had often had dealings and whom I thought I could trust. Under +a promise of secrecy he loaned me fifty thousand dollars on it and had an exact +replica in paste made by one of his best workmen. This morning, just now, Mr. +Schloss telephoned me that his safe had been robbed last night. My necklace is +gone!” +</p> + +<p> +She threw out her hands in a wildly appealing gesture. +</p> + +<p> +“And if Lynn finds that the necklace in our wall safe is of paste—as he will +find, for he is an expert in diamonds—oh—what shall I do? Can’t you—can’t you +find my necklace?” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy was following her now eagerly. “You were blackmailed out of the money?” +he queried casually, masking his question. +</p> + +<p> +There was a sudden, impulsive drooping of her mouth, an evasion and keen +wariness in her eyes. “I can’t see that that has anything to do with the +robbery,” she answered in a low voice. +</p> + +<p> +“I beg your pardon,” corrected Kennedy quickly. “Perhaps not. I’m sorry. Force +of habit, I suppose. You don’t know anything more about the robbery?” +</p> + +<p> +“N—no, only that it seems impossible that it could have happened in a place +that has the wonderful burglar alarm protection that Mr. Schloss described to +me.” +</p> + +<p> +“You know him pretty well?” +</p> + +<p> +“Only through this transaction,” she replied hastily. “I wish to heaven I had +never heard of him.” +</p> + +<p> +The telephone rang insistently. +</p> + +<p> +“Mrs. Moulton,” said Kennedy, as he returned the receiver to the hook, “it may +interest you to know that the burglar alarm company has just called me up about +the same case. If I had need of an added incentive, which I hope you will +believe I have not, that might furnish it. I will do my best,” he repeated. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you—a thousand times,” she cried fervently, and, had I been Craig, I +think I should have needed no more thanks than the look she gave him as he +accompanied her to the door of our apartment. +</p> + +<p> +It was still early and the eager crowds were pushing their way to business +through the narrow network of downtown streets as Kennedy and I entered a large +office on lower Broadway in the heart of the jewelry trade and financial +district. +</p> + +<p> +“One of the most amazing robberies that has ever been attempted has been +reported to us this morning,” announced James McLear, manager of the Hale +Electric Protection, adding with a look half of anxiety, half of skepticism, +“that is, if it is true.” +</p> + +<p> +McLear was a stocky man, of powerful build and voice and a general appearance +of having been once well connected with the city detective force before an +attractive offer had taken him into this position of great responsibility. +</p> + +<p> +“Herman Schloss, one of the best known of Maiden Lane jewelers,” he continued, +“has been robbed of goods worth two or three hundred thousand dollars—and in +spite of every modern protection. So that you will get it clearly, let me show +you what we do here.” +</p> + +<p> +He ushered us into a large room, on the walls of which were hundreds of little +indicators. From the front they looked like rows of little square compartments, +tier on tier, about the size of ordinary post office boxes. Closer examination +showed that each was equipped with a delicate needle arranged to oscillate +backward and forward upon the very minutest interference with the electric +current. Under the boxes, each of which bore a number, was a series of drops +and buzzers numbered to correspond with the boxes. +</p> + +<p> +“In nearly every office in Maiden Lane where gems and valuable jewelry are +stored,” explained McLear, “this electrical system of ours is installed. When +the safes are closed at night and the doors swung together, a current of +electricity is constantly shooting around the safes, conducted by cleverly +concealed wires. These wires are picked up by a cable system which finds its +way to this central office. Once here, the wires are safeguarded in such manner +that foreign currents from other wires or from lightning cannot disturb the +system.” +</p> + +<p> +We looked with intense interest at this huge electrical pulse that felt every +change over so vast and rich an area. +</p> + +<p> +“Passing a big dividing board,” he went on, “they are distributed and connected +each in its place to the delicate tangent galvanometers and sensitive +indicators you see in this room. These instantly announce the most minute +change in the working of the current, and each office has a distinct separate +metallic circuit. Why, even a hole as small as a lead pencil in anything +protected would sound the alarm here.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy nodded appreciatively. +</p> + +<p> +“You see,” continued McLear, glad to be able to talk to one who followed him so +closely, “it is another evidence of science finding for us greater security in +the use of a tiny electric wire than in massive walls of steel and intricate +lock devices. But here is a case in which, it seems, every known protection has +failed. We can’t afford to pass that by. If we have fallen down we want to know +how, as well as to catch the burglar.” +</p> + +<p> +“How are the signals given?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, when the day’s business is over, for instance, Schloss would swing the +heavy safe doors together and over them place the doors of a wooden cabinet. +That signals an alarm to us here. We answer it and if the proper signal is +returned, all right. After that no one can tamper with the safe later in the +night without sounding an alarm that would bring a quick investigation.” +</p> + +<p> +“But suppose that it became necessary to open the safe before the next morning. +Might not some trusted employee return to the office, open it, give the proper +signals and loot the safe?” +</p> + +<p> +“No indeed,” he answered confidently. “The very moment anyone touches the +cabinet, the alarm is sounded. Even if the proper code signal is returned, it +is not sufficient. A couple of our trusted men from the central office hustle +around there anyhow and they don’t leave until they are satisfied that +everything is right. We have the authorized signatures on hand of those who are +supposed to open the safe and a duplicate of one of them must be given or there +is an arrest.” +</p> + +<p> +McLear considered for a moment. +</p> + +<p> +“For instance, Schloss, like all the rest, was assigned a box in which was +deposited a sealed envelope containing a key to the office and his own +signature, in this case, since he alone knew the combination. Now, when an +alarm is sounded, as it was last night, and the key removed to gain entrance to +the office, a record is made and the key has to be sealed up again by Schloss. +A report is also submitted showing when the signals are received and anything +else that is worth recording. Last night our men found nothing wrong, +apparently. But this morning we learn of the robbery.” +</p> + +<p> +“The point is, then,” ruminated Kennedy, “what happened in the interval between +the ringing of the alarm and the arrival of the special officers? I think I’ll +drop around and look Schloss’ place over,” he added quietly, evidently eager to +begin at the actual scene of the crime. +</p> + +<p> +On the door of the office to which McLear took us was one of those small blue +plates which chance visitors to Maiden Lane must have seen often. To the +initiated—be he crook or jeweler—this simple sign means that the merchant is a +member of the Jewelers’ Security Alliance, enough in itself, it would seem, to +make the boldest burglar hesitate. For it is the motto of this organization to +“get” the thief at any cost and at any time. Still, it had not deterred the +burglar in this instance. +</p> + +<p> +“I know people are going to think it is a fake burglary,” exclaimed Schloss, a +stout, prosperous-looking gem broker, as we introduced ourselves. “But over two +hundred thousands dollars’ worth of stones are gone,” he half groaned. “Think +of it, man,” he added, “one of the greatest robberies since the Dead Line was +established. And if they can get away with it, why, no one down here is +protected any more. Half a billion dollars in jewels in Maiden Lane and John +Street are easy prey for the cracksmen!” +</p> + +<p> +Staggering though the loss must have been to him, he had apparently recovered +from the first shock of the discovery and had begun the fight to get back what +had been lost. +</p> + +<p> +It was, as McLear had intimated, a most amazing burglary, too. The door of +Schloss’ safe was open when Kennedy and I arrived and found the excited jeweler +nervously pacing the office. Surrounding the safe, I noticed a wooden framework +constructed in such a way as to be a part of the decorative scheme of the +office. +</p> + +<p> +Schloss banged the heavy doors shut. +</p> + +<p> +“There, that’s just how it was—shut as tight as a drum. There was absolutely no +mark of anyone tampering with the combination lock. And yet the safe was +looted!” +</p> + +<p> +“How did you discover it?” asked Craig. “I presume you carry burglary +insurance?” +</p> + +<p> +Schloss looked up quickly. “That’s what I expected as a first question. No, I +carried very little insurance. You see, I thought the safe, one of those new +chrome steel affairs, was about impregnable. I never lost a moment’s sleep over +it; didn’t think it possible for anyone to get into it. For, as you see, it is +completely wired by the Hale Electric Protection—that wooden framework about +it. No one could touch that when it was set without jangling a bell at the +central office which would send men scurrying here to protect the place.” +</p> + +<p> +“But they must have got past it,” suggested Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—they must have. At least this morning I received the regular Hale report. +It said that their wires registered last night as though some one was tampering +with the safe. But by the time they got around, in less than five minutes, +there was no one here, nothing seemed to be disturbed. So they set it down to +induction or electrolysis, or something the matter with the wires. I got the +report the first thing when I arrived here with my assistant, Muller.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy was on his knees, going over the safe with a fine brush and some +powder, looking now and then through a small magnifying glass. +</p> + +<p> +“Not a finger print,” he muttered. “The cracksman must have worn gloves. But +how did he get in? There isn’t a mark of ‘soup’ having been used to blow it up, +nor of a ‘can-opener’ to rip it open, if that were possible, nor of an electric +or any other kind of drill.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve read of those fellows who burn their way in,” said Schloss. +</p> + +<p> +“But there is no hole,” objected Kennedy, “not a trace of the use of thermit to +burn the way in or of the oxyacetylene blowpipe to cut a piece out. Most +extraordinary,” he murmured. +</p> + +<p> +“You see,” shrugged Schloss, “everyone will say it must have been opened by one +who knew the combination. But I am the only one. I have never written it down +or told anyone, not even Muller. You understand what I am up against?” +</p> + +<p> +“There’s the touch system,” I suggested. “You remember, Craig, the old fellow +who used to file his finger tips to the quick until they were so sensitive that +he could actually feel when he had turned the combination to the right plunger? +Might not that explain the lack of finger prints also?” I added eagerly. +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing like that in this case, Walter,” objected Craig positively. “This +fellow wore gloves, all right. No, this safe has been opened and looted by no +ordinarily known method. It’s the most amazing case I ever saw in that +respect—almost as if we had a cracksman in the fourth dimension to whom the +inside of a closed cube is as accessible as is the inside of a plane square to +us three dimensional creatures. It is almost incomprehensible.” +</p> + +<p> +I fancied I saw Schloss’ face brighten as Kennedy took this view. So far, +evidently, he had run across only skepticism. +</p> + +<p> +“The stones were unset?” resumed Craig. +</p> + +<p> +“Mostly. Not all.” +</p> + +<p> +“You would recognize some of them if you saw them?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes indeed. Some could be changed only by re-cutting. Even some of those that +were set were of odd cut and size—some from a diamond necklace which belonged +to a—” +</p> + +<p> +There was something peculiar in both his tone and manner as he cut short the +words. +</p> + +<p> +“To whom?” asked Kennedy casually. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, once to a well-known woman in society,” he said carefully. “It is mine, +though, now—at least it was mine. I should prefer to mention no names. I will +give a description of the stones.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mrs. Lynn Moulton, for instance?” suggested Craig quietly. +</p> + +<p> +Schloss jumped almost as if a burglar alarm had sounded under his very ears. +“How did you know? Yes—but it was a secret. I made a large loan on it, and the +time has expired.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why did she need money so badly?” asked Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +“How should I know?” demanded Schloss. +</p> + +<p> +Here was a deepening mystery, not to be elucidated by continuing this line of +inquiry with Schloss, it seemed. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap17"></a>CHAPTER XVII<br/> +THE PASTE REPLICA</h2> + +<p> +Carefully Craig was going over the office. Outside of the safe, there had +apparently been nothing of value. The rest of the office was not even wired, +and it seemed to have been Schloss’ idea that the few thousands of burglary +insurance amply protected him against such loss. As for the safe, its own +strength and the careful wiring might well have been considered quite +sufficient under any hitherto to-be-foreseen circumstances. +</p> + +<p> +A glass door, around the bend of a partition, opened from the hallway into the +office and had apparently been designed with the object of making visible the +safe so that anyone passing might see whether an intruder was tampering with +it. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy had examined the door, perhaps in the expectation of finding finger +prints there, and was passing on to other things, when a change in his position +caused his eye to catch a large oval smudge on the glass, which was visible +when the light struck it at the right angle. Quickly he dusted it over with the +powder, and brought out the detail more clearly. As I examined it, while Craig +made preparations to cut out the glass to preserve it, it seemed to contain a +number of minute points and several more or less broken parallel lines. The +edges gradually trailed off into an indistinct faintness. +</p> + +<p> +Business, naturally, was at a standstill, and as we were working near the door, +we could see that the news of Schloss’ strange robbery had leaked out and was +spreading rapidly. Scores of acquaintances in the trade stopped at the door to +inquire about the rumor. +</p> + +<p> +To each, it seemed that Morris Muller, the working jeweler employed by Schloss, +repeated the same story. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh,” he said, “it is a big loss—yes—but big as it is, it will not break Mr. +Schloss. And,” he would add with the tradesman’s idea of humor, “I guess he has +enough to play a game of poker—eh?” +</p> + +<p> +“Poker?” asked Kennedy smiling. “Is he much of a player?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. Nearly every night with his friends he plays.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy made a mental note of it. Evidently Schloss trusted Muller implicitly. +He seemed like a partner, rather than an employee, even though he had not been +entrusted with the secret combination. +</p> + +<p> +Outside, we ran into city detective Lieutenant Winters, the officer who was +stationed at the Maiden Lane post, guarding that famous section of the Dead +Line established by the immortal Byrnes at Fulton Street, below which no crook +was supposed to dare even to be seen. Winters had been detailed on the case. +</p> + +<p> +“You have seen the safe in there?” asked Kennedy, as he was leaving to carry on +his investigation elsewhere. +</p> + +<p> +Winters seemed to be quite as skeptical as Schloss had intimated the public +would be. “Yes,” he replied, “there’s been an epidemic of robbery with the dull +times—people who want to collect their burglary insurance, I guess.” +</p> + +<p> +“But,” objected Kennedy, “Schloss carried so little.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, there was the Hale Protection. How about that?” +</p> + +<p> +Craig looked up quickly, unruffled by the patronizing air of the professional +toward the amateur detective. +</p> + +<p> +“What is your theory?” he asked. “Do you think he robbed himself?” +</p> + +<p> +Winters shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve been interested in Schloss for some +time,” he said enigmatically. “He has had some pretty swell customers. I’ll +keep you wised up, if anything happens,” he added in a burst of graciousness, +walking off. +</p> + +<p> +On the way to the subway, we paused again to see McLear. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” he asked, “what do you think of it, now?” +</p> + +<p> +“All most extraordinary,” ruminated Craig. “And the queerest feature of all is +that the chief loss consists of a diamond necklace that belonged once to Mrs. +Antoinette Moulton.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mrs. Lynn Moulton?” repeated McLear. +</p> + +<p> +“The same,” assured Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +McLear appeared somewhat puzzled. “Her husband is one of our old subscribers,” +he pursued. “He is a lawyer on Wall Street and quite a gem collector. Last +night his safe was tampered with, but this morning he reports no loss. Not half +an hour ago he had us on the wire congratulating us on scaring off the +burglars, if there had been any.” +</p> + +<p> +“What is your opinion,” I asked. “Is there a gang operating?” +</p> + +<p> +“My belief is,” he answered, reminiscently of his days on the detective force, +“that none of the loot will be recovered until they start to ‘fence’ it. That +would be my lay—to look for the fence. Why, think of all the big robberies that +have been pulled off lately. Remember,” he went on, “the spoils of a burglary +consist generally of precious stones. They are not currency. They must be +turned into currency—or what’s the use of robbery? +</p> + +<p> +“But merely to offer them for sale at an ordinary jeweler’s would be +suspicious. Even pawnbrokers are on the watch. You see what I am driving at? I +think there is a man or a group of men whose business it is to pay cash for +stolen property and who have ways of returning gems into the regular trade +channels. In all these robberies we get a glimpse of as dark and mysterious a +criminal as has ever been recorded. He may be—anybody. About his legitimacy, I +believe, no question has ever been raised. And, I tell you, his arrest is going +to create a greater sensation than even the remarkable series of robberies that +he has planned or made possible. The question is, to my mind, who is this +fence?” +</p> + +<p> +McLear’s telephone rang and he handed the instrument to Craig. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, this is Professor Kennedy,” answered Craig. “Oh, too bad you’ve had to +try all over to get me. I’ve been going from one place to another gathering +clues and have made good progress, considering I’ve hardly started. Why—what’s +the matter? Really?” +</p> + +<p> +An interval followed, during which McLear left to answer a personal call on +another wire. +</p> + +<p> +As Kennedy hung up the receiver, his face wore a peculiar look. “It was Mrs. +Moulton,” he blurted out. “She thinks that her husband has found out that the +necklace is paste.” +</p> + +<p> +“How?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“The paste replica is gone from her wall safe in the Deluxe.” +</p> + +<p> +I turned, startled at the information. Even Kennedy himself was perplexed at +the sudden succession of events. I had nothing to say. +</p> + +<p> +Evidently, however, his rule was when in doubt play a trump, for, twenty +minutes later found us in the office of Lynn Moulton, the famous corporation +lawyer, in Wall Street. +</p> + +<p> +Moulton was a handsome man of past fifty with a youthful face against his iron +gray hair and mustache, well dressed, genial, a man who seemed keenly in love +with the good things of life. +</p> + +<p> +“It is rumored,” began Kennedy, “that an attempt was made on your safe here at +the office last night.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he admitted, taking off his glasses and polishing them carefully. “I +suppose there is no need of concealment, especially as I hear that a somewhat +similar attempt was made on the safe of my friend Herman Schloss in Maiden +Lane.” +</p> + +<p> +“You lost nothing?” +</p> + +<p> +Moulton put his glasses on and looked Kennedy in the face frankly. +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing, fortunately,” he said, then went on slowly. “You see, in my later +years, I have been something of a collector of precious stones myself. I don’t +wear them, but I have always taken the keenest pleasure in owning them and when +I was married it gave me a great deal more pleasure to have them set in rings, +pendants, tiaras, necklaces, and other forms for my wife.” +</p> + +<p> +He had risen, with the air of a busy man who had given the subject all the +consideration he could afford and whose work proceeded almost by schedule. +“This morning I found my safe tampered with, but, as I said, fortunately +something must have scared off the burglars.” +</p> + +<p> +He bowed us out politely. What was the explanation, I wondered. It seemed, on +the face of things, that Antoinette Moulton feared her husband. Did he know +something else already, and did she know he knew? To all appearances he took it +very calmly, if he did know. Perhaps that was what she feared, his very +calmness. +</p> + +<p> +“I must see Mrs. Moulton again,” remarked Kennedy, as we left. +</p> + +<p> +The Moultons lived, we found, in one of the largest suites of a new apartment +hotel, the Deluxe, and in spite of the fact that our arrival had been announced +some minutes before we saw Mrs. Moulton, it was evident that she had been +crying hysterically over the loss of the paste jewels and what it implied. +</p> + +<p> +“I missed it this morning, after my return from seeing you,” she replied in +answer to Craig’s inquiry, then added, wide-eyed with alarm, “What shall I do? +He must have opened the wall safe and found the replica. I don’t dare ask him +point-blank.” +</p> + +<p> +“Are you sure he did it?” asked Kennedy, more, I felt, for its moral effect on +her than through any doubt in his own mind. +</p> + +<p> +“Not sure. But then the wall safe shows no marks, and the replica is gone.” +</p> + +<p> +“Might I see your jewel case?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Surely. I’ll get it. The wall safe is in Lynn’s room. I shall probably have to +fuss a long time with the combination.” +</p> + +<p> +In fact she could not have been very familiar with it for it took several +minutes before she returned. Meanwhile, Kennedy, who had been drumming absently +on the arms of his chair, suddenly rose and walked quietly over to a scrap +basket that stood beside an escritoire. It had evidently just been emptied, for +the rooms must have been cleaned several hours before. He bent down over it and +picked up two scraps of paper adhering to the wicker work. The rest had +evidently been thrown away. +</p> + +<p> +I bent over to read them. One was: +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +—rest Nettie—<br/> +—dying to see— +</p> + +<p> +The other read: +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +—cherche to-d<br/> +—love and ma<br/> +—rman. +</p> + +<p> +What did it mean? Hastily, I could fill in “Dearest Nettie,” and “I am dying to +see you.” Kennedy added, “The Recherche to-day,” that being the name of a new +apartment uptown, as well as “love and many kisses.” But “—rman”—what did that +mean? Could it be Herman—Herman Schloss? +</p> + +<p> +She was returning and we resumed our seats quickly. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy took the jewel case from her and examined it carefully. There was not a +mark on it. +</p> + +<p> +“Mrs. Moulton,” he said slowly, rising and handing it back to her, “have you +told me all?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why—yes,” she answered. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy shook his head gravely. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m afraid not. You must tell me everything.” +</p> + +<p> +“No—no,” she cried vehemently, “there is nothing more.” +</p> + +<p> +We left and outside the Deluxe he paused, looked about, caught sight of a +taxicab and hailed it. +</p> + +<p> +“Where?” asked the driver. +</p> + +<p> +“Across the street,” he said, “and wait. Put the window in back of you down so +I can talk. I’ll tell you where to go presently. Now, Walter, sit back as far +as you can. This may seem like an underhand thing to do, but we’ve got to get +what that woman won’t tell us or give up the case.” +</p> + +<p> +Perhaps half an hour we waited, still puzzling over the scraps of paper. +Suddenly I felt a nudge from Kennedy. Antoinette Moulton was standing in the +doorway across the street. Evidently she preferred not to ride in her own car, +for a moment later she entered a taxicab. +</p> + +<p> +“Follow that black cab,” said Kennedy to our driver. +</p> + +<p> +Sure enough, it stopped in front of the Recherche Apartments and Mrs. Moulton +stepped out and almost ran in. +</p> + +<p> +We waited a moment, then Kennedy followed. The elevator that had taken her up +had just returned to the ground floor. +</p> + +<p> +“The same floor again,” remarked Kennedy, jauntily stepping in and nodding +familiarly to the elevator boy. +</p> + +<p> +Then he paused suddenly, looked at his watch, fixed his gaze thoughtfully on me +an instant, and exclaimed. “By George—no. I can’t go up yet. I clean forgot +that engagement at the hotel. One moment, son. Let us out. We’ll be back +again.” +</p> + +<p> +Considerably mystified, I followed him to the sidewalk. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re entitled to an explanation,” he laughed catching my bewildered look as +he opened the cab door. “I didn’t want to go up now while she is there, but I +wanted to get on good terms with that boy. We’ll wait until she comes down, +then go up.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s what I am going through all this elaborate preparation to find out. I +have no more idea than you have.” +</p> + +<p> +It could not have been more than twenty minutes later when Mrs. Moulton emerged +rather hurriedly, and drove away. +</p> + +<p> +While we had been waiting I had observed a man on the other side of the street +who seemed unduly interested in the Recherche, too, for he had walked up and +down the block no less than six times. Kennedy saw him, and as he made no +effort to follow Mrs. Moulton, Kennedy did not do so either. In fact a little +quick glance which she had given at our cab had raised a fear that she might +have discovered that she was being followed. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy and I paid off our cabman and sauntered into the Recherche in the most +debonair manner we could assume. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, son, we’ll go up,” he said to the boy who, remembering us, and now not at +all clear in his mind that he might not have seen us before that, whisked us to +the tenth floor. +</p> + +<p> +“Let me see,” said Kennedy, “it’s number one hundred and—er——” +</p> + +<p> +“Three,” prompted the boy. +</p> + +<p> +He pressed the buzzer and a neatly dressed colored maid responded. +</p> + +<p> +“I had an appointment here with Mrs. Moulton this morning,” remarked Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +“She has just gone,” replied the maid, off her guard. +</p> + +<p> +“And was to meet Mr. Schloss here in half an hour,” he added quickly. +</p> + +<p> +It was the maid’s turn to look surprised. +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t think he was to be here,” she said. “He’s had some—” +</p> + +<p> +“Trouble at the office,” supplied Kennedy. “That’s what it was about. Perhaps +he hasn’t been able to get away yet. But I had the appointment. Ah, I see a +telephone in the hall. May I?” +</p> + +<p> +He had stepped politely in, and by dint of cleverly keeping his finger on the +hook in the half light, he carried on a one-sided conversation with himself +long enough to get a good chance to look about. +</p> + +<p> +There was an air of quiet and refinement about the apartment in the Recherche. +It was darkened to give the little glowing electric bulbs in their silken +shades a full chance to simulate right. The deep velvety carpets were noiseless +to the foot, and the draperies, the pictures, the bronzes, all bespoke taste. +</p> + +<p> +But the chief objects of interest to Craig were the little square green +baize-covered tables on one of which lay neatly stacked a pile of gilt-edged +cards and a mahogany box full of ivory chips of red, white and blue. +</p> + +<p> +It was none of the old-time gambling places, like Danfield’s, with its steel +door which Craig had once cut through with an oxyacetylene blowpipe in order to +rescue a young spendthrift from himself. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy seemed perfectly well satisfied merely with a cursory view of the +place, as he hung up the receiver and thanked the maid politely for allowing +him to use it. +</p> + +<p> +“This is up-to-date gambling in cleaned-up New York,” he remarked as we waited +for the elevator to return for us. “And the worst of it all is that it gets the +women as well as the men. Once they are caught in the net, they are the most +powerful lure to men that the gamblers have yet devised.” +</p> + +<p> +We rode down in silence, and as we went down the steps to the street, I noticed +the man whom we had seen watching the place, lurking down at the lower corner. +Kennedy quickened his pace and came up behind him. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, Winters!” exclaimed Craig. “You here?” +</p> + +<p> +“I might say the same to you,” grinned the detective not displeased evidently +that our trail had crossed his. “I suppose you are looking for Schloss, too. +He’s up in the Recherche a great deal, playing poker. I understand he owns an +interest in the game up there.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy nodded, but said nothing. +</p> + +<p> +“I just saw one of the cappers for the place go out before you went in.” +</p> + +<p> +“Capper?” repeated Kennedy surprised. “Antoinette Moulton a steerer for a +gambling joint? What can a rich society woman have to do with a place like that +or a man like Schloss?” +</p> + +<p> +Winters smiled sardonically. “Society ladies to-day often get into scrapes of +which their husbands know nothing,” he remarked. “You didn’t know before that +Antoinette Moulton, like many of her friends in the smart set, was a +gambler—and loser—did you?” +</p> + +<p> +Craig shook his head. He had more of human than scientific interest in a case +of a woman of her caliber gone wrong. +</p> + +<p> +“But you must have read of the famous Moulton diamonds?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Craig, blankly, as if it were all news to him. +</p> + +<p> +“Schloss has them—or at least had them. The jewels she wore at the opera this +winter were paste, I understand.” +</p> + +<p> +“Does Moulton play?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I think so—but not here, naturally. In a way, I suppose, it is his fault. They +all do it. The example of one drives on another.” +</p> + +<p> +Instantly there flashed over my mind a host of possibilities. Perhaps, after +all, Winters had been right. Schloss had taken this way to make sure of the +jewels so that she could not redeem them. Suddenly another explanation crowded +that out. Had Mrs. Moulton robbed the safe herself, or hired some one else to +do it for her, and had that person gone back on her? +</p> + +<p> +Then a horrid possibility occurred to me. Whatever Antoinette Moulton may have +been and done, some one must have her in his power. What a situation for the +woman! My sympathy went out to her in her supreme struggle. Even if it had been +a real robbery, Schloss might easily recover from it. But for her every event +spelled ruin and seemed only to be bringing that ruin closer. +</p> + +<p> +We left Winters, still watching on the trail of Schloss, and went on uptown to +the laboratory. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap18"></a>CHAPTER XVIII<br/> +THE BURGLAR’S MICROPHONE</h2> + +<p> +That night I was sitting, brooding over the case, while Craig was studying a +photograph which he made of the smudge on the glass door down at Schloss’. He +paused in his scrutiny of the print to answer the telephone. +</p> + +<p> +“Something has happened to Schloss,” he exclaimed seizing his hat and coat. +“Winters has been watching him. He didn’t go to the Recherche. Winters wants me +to meet him at a place several blocks below it Come on. He wouldn’t say over +the wire what it was. Hurry.” +</p> + +<p> +We met Winters in less than ten minutes at the address he had given, a bachelor +apartment in the neighborhood of the Recherche. +</p> + +<p> +“Schloss kept rooms here,” explained Winters, hurrying us quickly upstairs. “I +wanted you to see before anyone else.” +</p> + +<p> +As we entered the large and luxuriously furnished living room of the jeweler’s +suite, a gruesome sight greeted us. +</p> + +<p> +There lay Schloss on the floor, face down, in a horribly contorted position. In +one hand, clenched under him partly, the torn sleeve of a woman’s dress was +grasped convulsively. The room bore unmistakable traces of a violent struggle, +but except for the hideous object on the floor was vacant. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy bent down over him. Schloss was dead. In a corner, by the door, stood a +pile of grips, stacked up, packed, and undisturbed. +</p> + +<p> +Winters who had been studying the room while we got our bearings picked up a +queer-looking revolver from the floor. As he held it up I could see that along +the top of the barrel was a long cylinder with a ratchet or catch at the butt +end. He turned it over and over carefully. +</p> + +<p> +“By George,” he muttered, “it has been fired off.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy glanced more minutely at the body. There was not a mark on it. I stared +about vacantly at the place where Winters had picked the thing up. +</p> + +<p> +“Look,” I cried, my eye catching a little hole in the baseboard of the woodwork +near it. +</p> + +<p> +“It must have fallen and exploded on the floor,” remarked Kennedy. “Let me see +it, Winters.” +</p> + +<p> +Craig held it at arm’s length and pulled the catch. Instead of an explosion, +there came a cone of light from the top of the gun. As Kennedy moved it over +the wall, I saw in the center of the circle of light a dark spot. +</p> + +<p> +“A new invention,” Craig explained. “All you need to do is to move it so that +little dark spot falls directly on an object. Pull the trigger—the bullet +strikes the dark spot. Even a nervous and unskilled marksman becomes a good +shot in the dark. He can even shoot from behind the protection of something—and +hit accurately.” +</p> + +<p> +It was too much for me. I could only stand and watch Kennedy as he deftly bent +over Schloss again and placed a piece of chemically prepared paper flat on the +forehead of the dead man. +</p> + +<p> +When he withdrew it, I could see that it bore marks of the lines on his head. +Without a word, Kennedy drew from his pocket a print of the photograph of the +smudge on Schloss’ door. +</p> + +<p> +“It is possible,” he said, half to himself, “to identify a person by means of +the arrangement of the sweat glands or pores. Poroscopy, Dr. Edmond Locard, +director of the Police Laboratory at Lyons, calls it. The shape, arrangement, +number per square centimeter, all vary in different individuals. Besides, here +we have added the lines of the forehead.” +</p> + +<p> +He was studying the two impressions intensely. When he looked up from his +examination, his face wore a peculiar expression. +</p> + +<p> +“This is not the head which was placed so close to the glass of the door of +Schloss’ office, peering through, on the night of the robbery, in order to see +before picking the lock whether the office was empty and everything ready for +the hasty attack on the safe.” +</p> + +<p> +“That disposes of my theory that Schloss robbed himself,” remarked Winters +reluctantly. “But the struggle here, the sleeve of the dress, the pistol—could +he have been shot?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I think not,” considered Kennedy. “It looks to me more like a case of +apoplexy.” +</p> + +<p> +“What shall we do?” asked Winters. “Far from clearing anything up, this +complicates it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where’s Muller?” asked Kennedy. “Does he know? Perhaps he can shed some light +on it.” +</p> + +<p> +The clang of an ambulance bell outside told that the aid summoned by Winters +had arrived. +</p> + +<p> +We left the body in charge of the surgeon and of a policeman who arrived about +the same time, and followed Winters. +</p> + +<p> +Muller lived in a cheap boarding house in a shabbily respectable street +downtown, and without announcing ourselves we climbed the stairs to his room. +He looked up surprised but not disconcerted as we entered. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s the matter?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Muller,” shot out Winters, “we have just found Mr. Schloss dead!” +</p> + +<p> +“D-dead!” he stammered. +</p> + +<p> +The man seemed speechless with horror. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, and with his grips packed as if to run away.” +</p> + +<p> +Muller looked dazedly from one of us to the other, but shut up like a clam. +</p> + +<p> +“I think you had better come along with us as a material witness,” burst out +Winters roughly. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy said nothing, leaving that sort of third degree work to the detective. +But he was not idle, as Winters tried to extract more than the monosyllables, +“I don’t know,” in answer to every inquiry of Muller about his employer’s life +and business. +</p> + +<p> +A low exclamation from Craig attracted my attention from Winters. In a corner +he had discovered a small box and had opened it. Inside was a dry battery and a +most peculiar instrument, something like a little flat telephone transmitter +yet attached by wires to earpieces that fitted over the head after the manner +of those of a wireless detector. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s this?” asked Kennedy, dangling it before Muller. +</p> + +<p> +He looked at it phlegmatically. “A deaf instrument I have been working on,” +replied the jeweler. “My hearing is getting poor.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy looked hastily from the instrument to the man. +</p> + +<p> +“I think I’ll take it along with us,” he said quietly. +</p> + +<p> +Winters, true to his instincts, had been searching Muller in the meantime. +Besides the various assortment that a man carries in his pockets usually, +including pens, pencils, notebooks, a watch, a handkerchief, a bunch of keys, +one of which was large enough to open a castle, there was a bunch of blank and +unissued pawn-tickets bearing the name, “Stein’s One Per Cent. a Month Loans,” +and an address on the Bowery. +</p> + +<p> +Was Muller the “fence” we were seeking, or only a tool for the “fence” higher +up? Who was this Stein? +</p> + +<p> +What it all meant I could only guess. It was a far cry from the wealth of +Diamond Lane to a dingy Bowery pawnshop, even though pawnbroking at one per +cent. a month—and more, on the side—pays. I knew, too, that diamonds are +hoarded on the East Side as nowhere else in the world, outside of India. It was +no uncommon thing, I had heard, for a pawnbroker whose shop seemed dirty and +greasy to the casual visitor to have stored away in his vault gems running into +the hundreds of thousands of dollars. +</p> + +<p> +“Mrs. Moulton must know of this,” remarked Kennedy. “Winters, you and Jameson +bring Muller along. I am going up to the Deluxe.” +</p> + +<p> +I must say that I was surprised at finding Mrs. Moulton there. Outside the +suite Winters and I waited with the unresisting Muller, while Kennedy entered. +But through the door which he left ajar I could hear what passed. +</p> + +<p> +“Mrs. Moulton,” he began, “something terrible has happened—” +</p> + +<p> +He broke off, and I gathered that her pale face and agitated manner told him +that she knew already. +</p> + +<p> +“Where is Mr. Moulton?” he went on, changing his question. +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Moulton is at his office,” she answered tremulously. “He telephoned while +I was out that he had to work to-night. Oh, Mr. Kennedy—he knows—he knows. I +know it. He has avoided me ever since I missed the replica from-” +</p> + +<p> +“Sh!” cautioned Craig. He had risen and gone to the door. +</p> + +<p> +“Winters,” he whispered, “I want you to go down to Lynn Moulton’s office. +Meanwhile Jameson can take care of Muller. I am going over to that place of +Stein’s presently. Bring Moulton up there. You will wait here, Walter, for the +present,” he nodded. +</p> + +<p> +He returned to the room where I could hear her crying softly. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, Mrs. Moulton,” he said gently, “I’m afraid I must trouble you to go with +me. I am going over to a pawnbroker’s on the Bowery.” +</p> + +<p> +“The Bowery?” she repeated, with a genuinely surprised shudder. “Oh, no, Mr. +Kennedy. Don’t ask me to go anywhere to-night. I am—I am in no condition to go +anywhere—to do anything—I—” +</p> + +<p> +“But you must,” said Kennedy in a low voice. +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t. Oh—have mercy on me. I am terribly upset. You—” +</p> + +<p> +“It is your duty to go, Mrs. Moulton,” he repeated. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t understand.” she murmured. “A pawnbroker’s?” +</p> + +<p> +“Come,” urged Kennedy, not harshly but firmly, then, as she held back, added, +playing a trump card, “We must work quickly. In his hands we found the +fragments of a torn dress. When the police—” +</p> + +<p> +She uttered a shriek. A glance had told her, if she had deceived herself +before, that Kennedy knew her secret. +</p> + +<p> +Antoinette Moulton was standing before him, talking rapidly. +</p> + +<p> +“Some one has told Lynn. I know it. There is nothing now that I can conceal. If +you had come half an hour later you would not have found me. He had written to +Mr. Schloss, threatening him that if he did not leave the country he would +shoot him at sight. Mr. Schloss showed me the letter. +</p> + +<p> +“It had come to this. I must either elope with Schloss, or lose his aid. The +thought of either was unendurable. I hated him—yet was dependent on him. +</p> + +<p> +“To-night I met him, in his empty apartment, alone. I knew that he had what was +left of his money with him, that everything was packed up. I went prepared. I +would not elope. My plan was no less than to make him pay the balance on the +necklace that he had lost—or to murder him. +</p> + +<p> +“I carried a new pistol in my muff, one which Lynn had just bought. I don’t +know how I did it. I was desperate. +</p> + +<p> +“He told me he loved me, that Lynn did not, never had—that Lynn had married me +only to show off his wealth and diamonds, to give him a social! position—that I +was merely a—a piece of property—a dummy. +</p> + +<p> +“He tried to kiss me. It was revolting. I struggled away from him. +</p> + +<p> +“And in the struggle, the revolver fell from my muff and exploded on the floor. +</p> + +<p> +“At once he was aflame with suspicion. +</p> + +<p> +“‘So—it’s murder you want!’ he shouted. ‘Well, murder it shall be!’ +</p> + +<p> +“I saw death in his eye as he seized my arm. I was defenseless now. The old +passion came over him. Before he killed—he—would have his way with me. +</p> + +<p> +“I screamed. With a wild effort I twisted away from him. +</p> + +<p> +“He raised his hand to strike me, I saw his eyes, glassy. Then he sank +back—fell to the floor—dead of apoplexy—dead of his furious emotions. +</p> + +<p> +“I fled. +</p> + +<p> +“And now you have found me.” +</p> + +<p> +She had turned, hastily, to leave the room. Kennedy blocked the door. +</p> + +<p> +“Mrs. Moulton,” he said firmly, “listen to me. What was the first question you +asked me? ‘Can I trust you?’ And I told you you could. This is no time for—for +suicide.” He shot the word out bluntly. “All may not be lost. I have sent for +your husband. Muller is outside.” +</p> + +<p> +“Muller?” she cried. “He made the replica.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well. I am going to clear this thing up. Come. You <i>must</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +It was all confused to me, the dash in a car to the little pawnbroker’s on the +first floor of a five-story tenement, the quick entry into the place by one of +Muller’s keys. +</p> + +<p> +Over the safe in back was a framework like that which had covered Schloss’ +safe. Kennedy tore it away, regardless of the alarm which it must have sounded. +In a moment he was down before it on his knees. +</p> + +<p> +“This is how Schloss’ safe was opened so quickly,” he muttered, working +feverishly. “Here is some of their own medicine.” +</p> + +<p> +He had placed the peculiar telephone-like transmitter close to the combination +lock and was turning the combination rapidly. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly he rose, gave the bolts a twist, and the ponderous doors swung open. +</p> + +<p> +“What is it?” I asked eagerly. +</p> + +<p> +“A burglar’s microphone,” he answered, hastily looking over the contents of the +safe. “The microphone is now used by burglars for picking combination locks. +When you turn the lock, a slight sound is made when the proper number comes +opposite the working point. It can be heard sometimes by a sensitive ear, +although it is imperceptible to most persons. But by using a microphone it is +an easy matter to hear the sounds which allow of opening the lock.” +</p> + +<p> +He had taken a yellow chamois bag out of the safe and opened it. +</p> + +<p> +Inside sparkled the famous Moulton diamonds. He held them up—in all their +wicked brilliancy. No one spoke. +</p> + +<p> +Then he took another yellow bag, more dirty and worn than the first. As he +opened it, Mrs. Moulton could restrain herself no longer. +</p> + +<p> +“The replica!” she cried. “The replica!” +</p> + +<p> +Without a word, Craig handed the real necklace to her. Then he slipped the +paste jewels into the newer of the bags and restored both it and the empty one +to their places, banged shut the door of the safe, and replaced the wooden +screen. +</p> + +<p> +“Quick!” he said to her, “you have still a minute to get away. +Hurry—anywhere—away—only away!” +</p> + +<p> +The look of gratitude that came over her face, as she understood the full +meaning of it was such as I had never seen before. +</p> + +<p> +“Quick!” he repeated. +</p> + +<p> +It was too late. +</p> + +<p> +“For God’s sake, Kennedy,” shouted a voice at the street door, “what are you +doing here?” +</p> + +<p> +It was McLear himself. He had come with the Hale patrol, on his mettle now to +take care of the epidemic of robberies. +</p> + +<p> +Before Craig could reply a cab drew up with a rush at the curb and two men, +half fighting, half cursing, catapulted themselves into the shop. +</p> + +<p> +They were Winters and Moulton. +</p> + +<p> +Without a word, taking advantage of the first shock of surprise, Kennedy had +clapped a piece of chemical paper on the foreheads of Mrs. Moulton, then of +Moulton, and on Muller’s. Oblivious to the rest of us, he studied the +impressions in the full light of the counter. +</p> + +<p> +Moulton was facing his wife with a scornful curl of the lip. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve been told of the paste replica—and I wrote Schloss that I’d shoot him +down like the dog he is, you—you traitress,” he hissed. +</p> + +<p> +She drew herself up scornfully. +</p> + +<p> +“And I have been told why you married me—to show off your wicked jewels and +help you in your—” +</p> + +<p> +“You lie!” he cried fiercely. “Muller—some one—open this safe—whosever it is. +If what I have been told is true, there is in it one new bag containing the +necklace. It was stolen from Schloss to whom you sold <i>my</i> jewels. The +other old bag, stolen from me, contains the paste replica you had made to +deceive me.” +</p> + +<p> +It was all so confused that I do not know how it happened. I think it was +Muller who opened the safe. +</p> + +<p> +“There is the new yellow bag,” cried Moulton, “from Schloss’ own safe. Open +it.” +</p> + +<p> +McLear had taken it. He did so. There sparkled not the real gems, but the +replica. +</p> + +<p> +“The devil!” Moulton exclaimed, breaking from Winters and seizing the old bag. +</p> + +<p> +He tore it open and—it was empty. +</p> + +<p> +“One moment,” interrupted Kennedy, looking up quietly from the counter. “Seal +that safe again, McLear. In it are the Schloss jewels and the products of half +a dozen other robberies which the dupe Muller—or Stein, as you please—pulled +off, some as a blind to conceal the real criminal. You may have shown him how +to leave no finger prints, but you yourself have left what is just as good—your +own forehead print. McLear—you were right. There’s your criminal—Lynn Moulton, +professional fence, the brains of the thing.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap19"></a>CHAPTER XIX<br/> +THE GERM LETTER</h2> + +<p> +Lynn Moulton made no fight and Kennedy did not pursue the case, for, with the +rescue of Antoinette Moulton, his interest ceased. +</p> + +<p> +Blackmail takes various forms, and the Moulton affair was only one phase of it. +It was not long before we had to meet a much stranger attempt. +</p> + +<p> +“Read the letter, Professor Kennedy. Then I will tell you the sequel.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Hunter Blake lay back in the cushions of her invalid chair in the sun +parlor of the great Blake mansion on Riverside Drive, facing the Hudson with +its continuous reel of maritime life framed against the green-hilled background +of the Jersey shore. +</p> + +<p> +Her nurse, Miss Dora Sears, gently smoothed out the pillows and adjusted them +so that the invalid could more easily watch us. Mrs. Blake, wealthy, known as a +philanthropist, was not an old woman, but had been for years a great sufferer +from rheumatism. +</p> + +<p> +I watched Miss Sears eagerly. Full-bosomed, fine of face and figure, she was +something more than a nurse; she was a companion. She had bright, sparkling +black eyes and an expression about her well-cut mouth which made one want to +laugh with her. It seemed to say that the world was a huge joke and she invited +you to enjoy the joke with her. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy took the letter which Miss Sears proffered him, and as he did so I +could not help noticing her full, plump forearm on which gleamed a handsome +plain gold bracelet. He spread the letter out on a dainty wicker table in such +a way that we both could see it. +</p> + +<p> +We had been summoned over the telephone to the Blake mansion by Reginald Blake, +Mrs. Blake’s eldest son. Reginald had been very reticent over the reason, but +had seemed very anxious and insistent that Kennedy should come immediately. +</p> + +<p> +Craig read quickly and I followed him, fascinated by the letter from its very +opening paragraph. +</p> + +<p> +“Dear Madam,” it began. “Having received my diploma as doctor of medicine and +bacteriology at Heidelberg in 1909, I came to the United States to study a most +serious disease which is prevalent in several of the western mountain states.” +</p> + +<p> +So far, I reflected, it looked like an ordinary appeal for aid. The next words, +however, were queer: “I have four hundred persons of wealth on my list. Your +name was—” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy turned the page. On the next leaf of the letter sheet was pasted a +strip of gelatine. The first page had adhered slightly to the gelatine. +</p> + +<p> +“Chosen by fate,” went on the sentence ominously. +</p> + +<p> +“By opening this letter,” I read, “you have liberated millions of the virulent +bacteria of this disease. Without a doubt you are infected by this time, for no +human body is impervious to them, and up to the present only one in one hundred +has fully recovered after going through all its stages.” +</p> + +<p> +I gasped. The gelatine had evidently been arranged so that when the two sheets +were pulled apart, the germs would be thrown into the air about the person +opening the letter. It was a very ingenious device. +</p> + +<p> +The letter continued, “I am happy to say, however, that I have a prophylactic +which will destroy any number of these germs if used up to the ninth day. It is +necessary only that you should place five thousand dollars in an envelope and +leave it for me to be called for at the desk of the Prince Henry Hotel. When +the messenger delivers the money to me, the prophylactic will be sent +immediately. +</p> + +<p> +“First of all, take a match and burn this letter to avoid spreading the +disease. Then change your clothes and burn the old ones. Enclosed you will find +in a germ-proof envelope an exact copy of this letter. The room should then be +thoroughly fumigated. Do not come into close contact with anyone near and dear +to you until you have used the prophylactic. Tell no one. In case you do, the +prophylactic will not be sent under any circumstances. Very truly yours, +D<small>R</small>. H<small>ANS</small> H<small>OPF</small>.” +</p> + +<p> +“Blackmail!” exclaimed Kennedy, looking intently again at the gelatine on the +second page, as I involuntarily backed away and held my breath. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I know,” responded Mrs. Blake anxiously, “but is it true?” +</p> + +<p> +There could be no doubt from the tone of her voice that she more than half +believed that it was true. +</p> + +<p> +“I cannot say—yet,” replied Craig, still cautiously scanning the apparently +innocent piece of gelatine on the original letter which Mrs. Blake had not +destroyed. “I shall have to keep it and examine it.” +</p> + +<p> +On the gelatine I could see a dark mass which evidently was supposed to contain +the germs. +</p> + +<p> +“I opened the letter here in this room,” she went on. “At first I thought +nothing of it. But this morning, when Buster, my prize Pekinese, who had been +with me, sitting on my lap at the time, and closer to the letter even than I +was, when Buster was taken suddenly ill, I—well, I began to worry.” +</p> + +<p> +She finished with a little nervous laugh, as people will to hide their real +feelings. +</p> + +<p> +“I should like to see the dog,” remarked Kennedy simply. +</p> + +<p> +“Miss Sears,” asked her mistress, “will you get Buster, please?” +</p> + +<p> +The nurse left the room. No longer was there the laughing look on her face. +This was serious business. +</p> + +<p> +A few minutes later she reappeared, carrying gingerly a small dog basket. Mrs. +Blake lifted the lid. Inside was a beautiful little “Peke,” and it was easy to +see that Buster was indeed ill. +</p> + +<p> +“Who is your doctor?” asked Craig, considering. +</p> + +<p> +“Dr. Rae Wilson, a very well-known woman physician.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy nodded recognition of the name. “What does she say?” he asked, +observing the dog narrowly. +</p> + +<p> +“We haven’t told anyone, outside, of it yet,” replied Mrs. Blake. “In fact +until Buster fell sick, I thought it was a hoax.” +</p> + +<p> +“You haven’t told anyone?” +</p> + +<p> +“Only Reginald and my daughter Betty. Betty is frantic—not with fear for +herself, but with fear for me. No one can reassure her. In fact it was as much +for her sake as anyone’s that I sent for you. Reginald has tried to trace the +thing down himself, but has not succeeded.” +</p> + +<p> +She paused. The door opened and Reginald Blake entered. He was a young fellow, +self confident and no doubt very efficient at the new dances, though scarcely +fitted to rub elbows with a cold world which, outside of his own immediate +circle, knew not the name of Blake. He stood for a moment regarding us through +the smoke of his cigarette. +</p> + +<p> +“Tell me just what you have done,” asked Kennedy of him as his mother +introduced him, although he had done the talking for her over the telephone. +</p> + +<p> +“Done?” he drawled. “Why, as soon as mother told me of the letter, I left an +envelope up at the Prince Henry, as it directed.” +</p> + +<p> +“With the money?” put in Craig quickly. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no—just as a decoy.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. What happened?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I waited around a long time. It was far along in the day when a woman +appeared at the desk. I had instructed the clerk to be on the watch for anyone +who asked for mail addressed to a Dr. Hopf. The clerk slammed the register. +That was the signal. I moved up closer.” +</p> + +<p> +“What did she look like?” asked Kennedy keenly. +</p> + +<p> +“I couldn’t see her face. But she was beautifully dressed, with a long light +flowing linen duster, a veil that hid her features and on her hands and arms a +long pair of motoring doeskin gloves. By George, she was a winner—in general +looks, though. Well, something about the clerk, I suppose, must have aroused +her suspicions. For, a moment later, she was gone in the crowd. Evidently she +had thought of the danger and had picked out a time when the lobby would be +full and everybody busy. But she did not leave by the front entrance through +which she entered. I concluded that she must have left by one of the side +street carriage doors.” +</p> + +<p> +“And she got away?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. I found that she asked one of the boys at the door to crank up a car +standing at the curb. She slid into the seat, and was off in a minute.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy said nothing. But I knew that he was making a mighty effort to restrain +comment on the bungling amateur detective work of the son of our client. +</p> + +<p> +Reginald saw the look on his face. “Still,” he hastened, “I got the number of +the car. It was 200859 New York.” +</p> + +<p> +“You have looked it up?” queried Kennedy quickly. +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t need to do it. A few minutes later Dr. Rae Wilson herself came +out—storming like mad. Her car had been stolen at the very door of the hotel by +this woman with the innocent aid of the hotel employees.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy was evidently keenly interested. The mention of the stolen car had +apparently at once suggested an idea to him. +</p> + +<p> +“Mrs. Blake,” he said, as he rose to go, “I shall take this letter with me. +Will you see that Buster is sent up to my laboratory immediately?” +</p> + +<p> +She nodded. It was evident that Buster was a great pet with her and that it was +with difficulty she kept from smoothing his silky coat. +</p> + +<p> +“You—you won’t hurt Buster?” she pleaded. +</p> + +<p> +“No. Trust me. More than that, if there is any possible way of untangling this +mystery, I shall do it.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Blake looked rather than spoke her thanks. As we went downstairs, +accompanied by Miss Sears, we could see in the music room a very interesting +couple, chatting earnestly over the piano. +</p> + +<p> +Betty Blake, a slip of a girl in her first season, was dividing her attention +between her visitor and the door by which we were passing. +</p> + +<p> +She rose as she heard us, leaving the young man standing alone at the piano. He +was of an age perhaps a year or two older than Reginald Blake. It was evident +that, whatever Miss Betty might think, he had eyes for no one else but the +pretty debutante. He even seemed to be regarding Kennedy sullenly, as if he +were a possible rival. +</p> + +<p> +“You—you don’t think it is serious?” whispered Betty in an undertone, scarcely +waiting to be introduced. She had evidently known of our visit, but had been +unable to get away to be present upstairs. +</p> + +<p> +“Really, Miss Blake,” reassured Kennedy, “I can’t say. All I can do is to +repeat what I have already said to your mother. Keep up a good heart and trust +me to work it out.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you,” she murmured, and then, impulsively extending her small hand to +Craig, she added, “Mr. Kennedy, if there is anything I can do to help you, I +beg that you will call on me.” +</p> + +<p> +“I shall not forget,” he answered, relinquishing the hand reluctantly. Then, as +she thanked him, and turned again to her guest, he added in a low tone to me, +“A remarkable girl, Walter, a girl that can be depended on.” +</p> + +<p> +We followed Miss Sears down the hall. +</p> + +<p> +“Who was that young man in the music room?” asked Kennedy, when we were out of +earshot. +</p> + +<p> +“Duncan Baldwin,” she answered. “A friend and bosom companion of Reginald.” +</p> + +<p> +“He seems to think more of Betty than of her brother,” Craig remarked dryly. +</p> + +<p> +Miss Sears smiled. “Sometimes, we think they are secretly engaged,” she +returned. We had almost reached the door. “By the way,” she asked anxiously, +“do you think there are any precautions that I should take for Mrs. Blake—and +the rest?” +</p> + +<p> +“Hardly,” answered Kennedy, after a moment’s consideration, “as long as you +have taken none in particular already. Still, I suppose it will do no harm to +be as antiseptic as possible.” +</p> + +<p> +“I shall try,” she promised, her face showing that she considered the affair +now in a much more serious light than she had before our visit. +</p> + +<p> +“And keep me informed of anything that turns up,” added Kennedy handing her a +card with the telephone number of the laboratory. +</p> + +<p> +As we left the Blake mansion, Kennedy remarked, “We must trace that car +somehow—at least we must get someone working on that.” +</p> + +<p> +Half an hour later we were in a towering office building on Liberty Street, the +home of various kinds of insurance. Kennedy stopped before a door which bore +the name, “Douglas Garwood: Insurance Adjuster.” +</p> + +<p> +Briefly, Craig told the story of the stolen car, omitting the account of the +dastardly method taken to blackmail Mrs. Blake. As he proceeded a light seemed +to break on the face of Garwood, a heavyset man, whose very gaze was +inquisitorial. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, the theft has been reported to us already by Dr. Wilson herself,” he +interrupted. “The car was insured in a company I represent.” +</p> + +<p> +“I had hoped so,” remarked Kennedy, “Do you know the woman?” he added, watching +the insurance adjuster who had been listening intently as he told about the +fair motor car thief. +</p> + +<p> +“Know her?” repeated Garwood emphatically. “Why, man, we have been so close to +that woman that I feel almost intimate with her. The descriptions are those of +a lady, well-dressed, and with a voice and manner that would carry her through +any of the fashionable hotels, perhaps into society itself.” +</p> + +<p> +“One of a gang of blackmailers, then,” I hazarded. +</p> + +<p> +Garwood shrugged his shoulders. “Perhaps,” he acquiesced. “It is automobile +thieving that interests me, though. Why,” he went on, rising excitedly, “the +gangs of these thieves are getting away with half a million dollars’ worth of +high-priced cars every year. The police seem to be powerless to stop it. We +appeal to them, but with no result. So, now we have taken things into our own +hands.” +</p> + +<p> +“What are you doing in this case?” asked Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +“What the insurance companies have to do to recover stolen automobiles,” +Garwood replied. “For, with all deference to your friend, Deputy O’Connor, it +is the insurance companies rather than the police who get stolen cars back.” +</p> + +<p> +He had pulled out a postal card from a pigeon hole in his desk, selecting it +from several apparently similar. We read: +</p> + +<h5>$250.00 REWARD</h5> + +<p> +We will pay $100.00 for car, $150.00 additional for information which will +convict the thief. When last seen, driven by a woman, name not known, who is +described as dark-haired, well-dressed, slight, apparently thirty years old. +The car is a Dixon, 1912, seven-passenger, touring, No. 193,222, license No. +200,859, New York; dark red body, mohair top, brass lamps, has no wind shield; +rear axle brake band device has extra nut on turnbuckle not painted. Car last +seen near Prince Henry Hotel, New York City, Friday, the 10th. +</p> + +<p> +Communicate by telegraph or telephone, after notifying nearest police +department, with Douglas Garwood, New York City. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +“The secret of it is,” explained Garwood, as we finished reading, “that there +are innumerable people who keep their eyes open and like to earn money easily. +Thus we have several hundreds of amateur and enthusiastic detectives watching +all over the city and country for any car that looks suspicious.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy thanked him for his courtesy, and we rose to go. “I shall be glad to +keep you informed of anything that turns up,” he promised. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap20"></a>CHAPTER XX<br/> +THE ARTIFICIAL KIDNEY</h2> + +<p> +In the laboratory, Kennedy quietly set to work. He began by tearing from the +germ letter the piece of gelatine and first examining it with a pocket lens. +Then, with a sterile platinum wire, he picked out several minute sections of +the black spot on the gelatine and placed them in agar, blood serum, and other +media on which they would be likely to grow. +</p> + +<p> +“I shall have to wait until to-morrow to examine them properly,” he remarked. +“There are colonies of something there, all right, but I must have them more +fully developed.” +</p> + +<p> +A hurried telephone call late in the day from Miss Sears told us that Mrs. +Blake herself had begun to complain, and that Dr. Wilson had been summoned but +had been unable to give an opinion on the nature of the malady. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy quickly decided on making a visit to the doctor, who lived not far +downtown from the laboratory. +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Rae Wilson proved to be a nervous little woman, inclined, I felt, to be +dictatorial. I thought that secretly she felt a little piqued at our having +been taken into the Blakes’ confidence before herself, and Kennedy made every +effort to smooth that aspect over tactfully. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you any idea what it can be?” he asked finally. +</p> + +<p> +She shook her head noncommittally. “I have taken blood smears,” she answered, +“but so far haven’t been able to discover anything. I shall have to have her +under observation for a day or two before I can answer that. Still, as Mrs. +Blake is so ill, I have ordered another trained nurse to relieve Miss Sears of +the added work, a very efficient nurse, a Miss Rogers.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy had risen to go. “You have had no word about your car?” he asked +casually. +</p> + +<p> +“None yet. I’m not worrying. It was insured.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who is this arch criminal, Dr. Hopf?” I mused as we retraced our steps to the +laboratory. “Is Mrs. Blake stricken now by the same trouble that seems to have +affected Buster?” +</p> + +<p> +“Only my examination will show,” he said. “I shall let nothing interfere with +that now. It must be the starting point for any work that I may do in the +case.” +</p> + +<p> +We arrived at Kennedy’s workshop of scientific crime and he immediately plunged +into work. Looking up he caught sight of me standing helplessly idle. +</p> + +<p> +“Walter,” he remarked thoughtfully adjusting a microscope, “suppose you run +down and see Garwood. Perhaps he has something to report. And by the way, while +you are out, make inquiries about the Blakes, young Baldwin, Miss Sears and +this Dr. Wilson. I have heard of her before, at least by name. Perhaps you may +find something interesting.” +</p> + +<p> +Glad to have a chance to seem to be doing something whether it amounted to +anything or not, I dropped in to see Garwood. So far he had nothing to report +except the usual number of false alarms. From his office I went up to the +<i>Star</i> where fortunately I found one of the reporters who wrote society +notes. +</p> + +<p> +The Blakes, I found, as we already knew, to be well known and moving in the +highest social circles. As far as known they had no particular enemies, other +than those common to all people of great wealth. Dr. Wilson had a large +practice, built up in recent years, and was one of the best known society +physicians for women. Miss Sears was unknown, as far as I could determine. As +for Duncan Baldwin, I found that he had become acquainted with Reginald Blake +in college, that he came of no particular family and seemed to have no great +means, although he was very popular in the best circles. In fact he had had, +thanks to his friend, a rather meteoric rise in society, though it was reported +that he was somewhat involved in debt as a result. +</p> + +<p> +I returned to the laboratory to find that Craig had taken out of a cabinet a +peculiar looking arrangement. It consisted of thirty-two tubes, each about +sixteen inches long, with S-turns, like a minute radiator. It was altogether +not over a cubic foot in size, and enclosed in a glass cylinder. There were in +it, perhaps, fifty feet of tubes, a perfectly-closed tubular system which I +noticed Kennedy was keeping absolutely sterile in a germicidal solution of some +kind. +</p> + +<p> +Inside the tubes and surrounding them was a saline solution which was kept at a +uniform temperature by a special heating apparatus. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy had placed the apparatus on the laboratory table and then gently took +the little dog from his basket and laid him beside it. A few minutes later the +poor little suffering Buster was mercifully under the influence of an +anesthetic. +</p> + +<p> +Quickly Craig worked. First he attached the end of one of the tubes by means of +a little cannula to the carotid artery of the dog. Then the other was attached +to the jugular vein. +</p> + +<p> +As he released the clamp which held the artery, the little dog’s feverishly +beating heart spurted the arterial blood from the carotid into the tubes +holding the normal salt solution and that pressure, in turn, pumped the salt +solution which filled the tubes into the jugular vein, thus replacing the +arterial blood that had poured into the tubes from the other end and +maintaining the normal hydrostatic conditions in the body circulation. The dog +was being kept alive, although perhaps a third of his blood was out of his +body. +</p> + +<p> +“You see,” he said at length, after we had watched the process a few minutes, +“what I have here is in reality an artificial kidney. It is a system that has +been devised by several doctors at Johns Hopkins. +</p> + +<p> +“If there is any toxin in the blood of this dog, the kidneys are naturally +endeavoring to eliminate it. Perhaps it is being eliminated too slowly. In that +case this arrangement which I have here will aid them. We call it vividiffusion +and it depends for its action on the physical principle of osmosis, the passage +of substances of a certain kind through a porous membrane, such as these tubes +of celloidin. +</p> + +<p> +“Thus any substance, any poison that is dialyzable is diffused into the +surrounding salt solution and the blood is passed back into the body, with no +air in it, no infection, and without alteration. Clotting is prevented by the +injection of a harmless substance derived from leeches, known as hirudin. I +prevent the loss of anything in the blood which I want retained by placing in +the salt solution around the tubes an amount of that substance equal to that +held in solution by the blood. Of course that does not apply to the colloidal +substances in the blood which would not pass by osmosis under any +circumstances. But by such adjustments I can remove and study any desired +substance in the blood, provided it is capable of diffusion. In fact this +little apparatus has been found in practice to compare favorably with the +kidneys themselves in removing even a lethal dose of poison.” +</p> + +<p> +I watched in amazement. He was actually cleaning the blood of the dog and +putting it back again, purified, into the little body. Far from being cruel, as +perhaps it might seem, it was in reality probably the only method by which the +animal could be saved, and at the same time it was giving us a clue as to some +elusive, subtle substance used in the case. +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed,” Kennedy went on reflectively, “this process can be kept up for +several hours without injury to the dog, though I do not think that will be +necessary to relieve the unwonted strain that has been put upon his natural +organs. Finally, at the close of the operation, serious loss of blood is +overcome by driving back the greater part of it into his body, closing up the +artery and vein, and taking good care of the animal so that he will make a +quick recovery.” +</p> + +<p> +For a long time I watched the fascinating process of seeing the life blood +coursing through the porous tubes in the salt solution, while Kennedy gave his +undivided attention to the success of the delicate experiment. It was late when +I left him, still at work over Buster, and went up to our apartment to turn in, +convinced that nothing more would happen that night. +</p> + +<p> +The next morning, with characteristic energy, Craig was at work early, +examining the cultures he had made from the black spots on the gelatine. +</p> + +<p> +By the look of perplexity on his face, I knew that he had discovered something +that instead of clearing the mystery up, further deepened it. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you find?” I asked anxiously. +</p> + +<p> +“Walter,” he exclaimed, laying aside the last of the slides which he had been +staining and looking at intently through the microscope, “that stuff on the +gelatine is entirely harmless. There was nothing in it except common mold.” +</p> + +<p> +For the moment I did not comprehend. “Mold?” I repeated. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he replied, “just common, ordinary mold such as grows on the top of a +jar of fruit or preserves when it is exposed to the air.” +</p> + +<p> +I stifled an exclamation of incredulity. It seemed impossible that the deadly +germ note should be harmless, in view of the events that had followed its +receipt. +</p> + +<p> +Just then the laboratory door was flung open and Reginald Blake, pale and +excited, entered. He had every mark of having been up all night. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s the matter?” asked Craig. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s about my mother,” he blurted out. “She seems to be getting worse all the +time. Miss Sears is alarmed, and Betty is almost ill herself with worry. Dr. +Wilson doesn’t seem to know what it is that affects her, and neither does the +new nurse. Can’t you <i>do</i> something?” +</p> + +<p> +There was a tone of appeal in his voice that was not like the self-sufficient +Reginald of the day before. +</p> + +<p> +“Does there seem to be any immediate danger?” asked Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps not—I can’t say,” he urged. “But she is gradually getting worse +instead of better.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy thought a moment. “Has anything else happened?” he asked slowly. +</p> + +<p> +“N-no. That’s enough, isn’t it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed it is,” replied Craig, trying to be reassuring. Then, recollecting +Betty, he added, “Reginald, go back and tell your sister for me that she must +positively make the greatest effort of her life to control herself. Tell her +that her mother needs her—needs her well and brave. I shall be up at the house +immediately. Do the best you can. I depend on you.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy’s words seemed to have a bracing effect on Reginald and a few moments +later he left, much calmer. +</p> + +<p> +“I hope I have given him something to do which will keep him from mussing +things up again,” remarked Kennedy, mindful of Reginald’s former excursion into +detective work. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile Craig plunged furiously into his study of the substances he had +isolated from the saline solution in which he had “washed” the blood of the +little Pekinese. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s no use doing anything in the dark,” he explained. “Until we know what +it is we are fighting we can’t very well fight.” +</p> + +<p> +For the moment I was overwhelmed by the impending tragedy that seemed to be +hanging over Mrs. Blake. The more I thought of it, the more inexplicable became +the discovery of the mold. +</p> + +<p> +“That is all very well about the mold on the gelatine strip in the letter,” I +insisted at length. “But, Craig, there must be something wrong somewhere. Mere +molds could not have made Buster so ill, and now the infection, or whatever it +is, has spread to Mrs. Blake herself. What have you found out by studying +Buster?” +</p> + +<p> +He looked up from his close scrutiny of the material in one of the test tubes +which contained something he had recovered from the saline solution of the +diffusion apparatus. +</p> + +<p> +I could read on his face that whatever it was, it was serious. “What is it?” I +repeated almost breathlessly. +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose I might coin a word to describe it,” he answered slowly, measuring +his phrases. “Perhaps it might be called hyper-amino-acidemia.” +</p> + +<p> +I puckered my eyes at the mouth-filling term Kennedy smiled. “It would mean,” +he explained, “a great quantity of the amino-acids, non-coagulable, nitrogenous +compounds in the blood. You know the indols, the phenols, and the amins are +produced both by putrefactive bacteria and by the process of metabolism, the +burning up of the tissues in the process of utilizing the energy that means +life. But under normal circumstances, the amins are not present in the blood in +any such quantities as I have discovered by this new method of diffusion.” +</p> + +<p> +He paused a moment, as if in deference to my inability to follow him on such an +abstruse topic, then resumed, “As far as I am able to determine, this poison or +toxin is an amin similar to that secreted by certain cephalopods found in the +neighborhood of Naples. It is an aromatic amin. Smell it.” +</p> + +<p> +I bent over and inhaled the peculiar odor. +</p> + +<p> +“Those creatures,” he continued, “catch their prey by this highly active poison +secreted by the so-called salivary glands. Even a little bit will kill a crab +easily.” +</p> + +<p> +I was following him now with intense interest, thinking of the astuteness of a +mind capable of thinking of such a poison. +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed, it is surprising,” he resumed thoughtfully, “how many an innocent +substance can be changed by bacteria into a virulent poison. In fact our +poisons and our drugs are in many instances the close relations of harmless +compounds that represent the intermediate steps in the daily process of +metabolism.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then,” I put in, “the toxin was produced by germs, after all?” +</p> + +<p> +“I did not say that,” he corrected. “It might have been. But I find no germs in +the blood of Buster. Nor did Dr. Wilson find any in the blood smears which she +took from Mrs. Blake.” +</p> + +<p> +He seemed to have thrown the whole thing back again into the limbo of the +unexplainable, and I felt nonplussed. +</p> + +<p> +“The writer of that letter,” he went on, waving the piece of sterile platinum +wire with which he had been transferring drops of liquid in his search for +germs, “was a much more skillful bacteriologist than I thought, evidently. No, +the trouble does not seem to be from germs breathed in, or from germs at all—it +is from some kind of germ-free toxin that has been injected or otherwise +introduced.” +</p> + +<p> +Vaguely now I began to appreciate the terrible significance of what he had +discovered. +</p> + +<p> +“But the letter?” I persisted mechanically. +</p> + +<p> +“The writer of that was quite as shrewd a psychologist as bacteriologist,” +pursued Craig impressively. “He calculated the moral effect of the letter, then +of Buster’s illness, and finally of reaching Mrs. Blake herself.” +</p> + +<p> +“You think Dr. Rae Wilson knows nothing of it yet?” I queried. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy appeared to consider his answer carefully. Then he said slowly: “Almost +any doctor with a microscope and the faintest trace of a scientific education +could recognize disease germs either naturally or feloniously implanted. But +when it comes to the detection of concentrated, filtered, germ-free toxins, +almost any scientist might be baffled. Walter,” he concluded, “this is not mere +blackmail, although perhaps the visit of that woman to the Prince Henry—a +desperate thing in itself, although she did get away by her quick +thinking—perhaps that shows that these people are ready to stop at nothing. No, +it goes deeper than blackmail.” +</p> + +<p> +I stood aghast at the discovery of this new method of scientific murder. The +astute criminal, whoever he might be, had planned to leave not even the slender +clue that might be afforded by disease germs. He was operating, not with +disease itself, but with something showing the ultimate effects, perhaps, of +disease with none of the preliminary symptoms, baffling even to the best of +physicians. +</p> + +<p> +I scarcely knew what to say. Before I realized it, however, Craig was at last +ready for the promised visit to Mrs. Blake. We went together, carrying Buster, +in his basket, not recovered, to be sure, but a very different little animal +from the dying creature that had been sent to us at the laboratory. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap21"></a>CHAPTER XXI<br/> +THE POISON BRACELET</h2> + +<p> +We reached the Blake mansion and were promptly admitted. Miss Betty, bearing up +bravely under Reginald’s reassurances, greeted us before we were fairly inside +the door, though she and her brother were not able to conceal the fact that +their mother was no better. Miss Sears was out, for an airing, and the new +nurse, Miss Rogers, was in charge of the patient. +</p> + +<p> +“How do you feel, this morning?” inquired Kennedy as we entered the sun-parlor, +where Mrs. Blake had first received us. +</p> + +<p> +A single glance was enough to satisfy me of the seriousness of her condition. +She seemed to be in almost a stupor from which she roused herself only with +difficulty. It was as if some overpowering toxin were gradually undermining her +already weakened constitution. +</p> + +<p> +She nodded recognition, but nothing further. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy had set the dog basket down near her wheel-chair and she caught sight +of it. +</p> + +<p> +“Buster?” she murmured, raising her eyes. “Is—he—all right?” +</p> + +<p> +For answer, Craig simply raised the lid of the basket. Buster already seemed to +have recognized the voice of his mistress, and, with an almost human instinct, +to realize that though he himself was still weak and ill, she needed +encouragement. +</p> + +<p> +As Mrs. Blake stretched out her slender hand, drawn with pain, to his silky +head, he gave a little yelp of delight and his little red tongue eagerly +caressed her hand. +</p> + +<p> +It was as though the two understood each other. Although Mrs. Blake, as yet, +had no more idea what had happened to her pet, she seemed to feel by some +subtle means of thought transference that the intelligent little animal was +conveying to her a message of hope. The caress, the sharp, joyous yelp, and the +happy wagging of the bushy tail seemed to brighten her up, at least for the +moment, almost as if she had received a new impetus. +</p> + +<p> +“Buster!” she exclaimed, overjoyed to get her pet back again in so much +improved condition. +</p> + +<p> +“I wouldn’t exert myself too much, Mrs. Blake,” cautioned Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +“Were—were there any germs in the letter?” she asked, as Reginald and Betty +stood on the other side of the chair, much encouraged, apparently, at this show +of throwing off the lethargy that had seized her. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, but about as harmless as those would be on a piece of cheese,” Kennedy +hastened. “But I—I feel so weak, so played out—and my head—” +</p> + +<p> +Her voice trailed off, a too evident reminder that her improvement had been +only momentary and prompted by the excitement of our arrival. +</p> + +<p> +Betty bent down solicitously and made her more comfortable as only one woman +can make another. Kennedy, meanwhile, had been talking to Miss Rogers, and I +could see that he was secretly taking her measure. +</p> + +<p> +“Has Dr. Wilson been here this morning?” I heard him ask. +</p> + +<p> +“Not yet,” she replied. “But we expect her soon.” +</p> + +<p> +“Professor Kennedy?” announced a servant. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes?” answered Craig. +</p> + +<p> +“There is someone on the telephone who wants to speak to you. He said he had +called the laboratory first and that they told him to call you here.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy hurried after the servant, while Betty and Reginald joined me, waiting, +for we seemed to feel that something was about to happen. +</p> + +<p> +“One of the unofficial detectives has unearthed a clue,” he whispered to me a +few moments later when he returned. “It was Garwood.” Then to the others he +added, “A car, repainted, and with the number changed, but otherwise answering +the description of Dr. Wilson’s has been traced to the West Side. It is +somewhere in the neighborhood of a saloon and garage where drivers of taxicabs +hang out. Reginald, I wish you would come along with us.” +</p> + +<p> +To Betty’s unspoken question Craig hastened to add, “I don’t think there is any +immediate danger. If there is any change—let me know. I shall call up soon. And +meanwhile,” he lowered his voice to impress the instruction on her, “don’t +leave your mother for a moment—not for a moment,” he emphasized. +</p> + +<p> +Reginald was ready and together we three set off to meet Garwood at a subway +station near the point where the car had been reported. We had scarcely closed +the front door, when we ran into Duncan Baldwin, coming down the street, +evidently bent on inquiring how Mrs. Blake and Betty were. +</p> + +<p> +“Much better,” reassured Kennedy. “Come on, Baldwin. We can’t have too many on +whom we can rely on an expedition like this.” +</p> + +<p> +“Like what?” he asked, evidently not comprehending. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s a clue, they think, to that car of Dr. Wilson’s,” hastily explained +Reginald, linking his arm into that of his friend and falling in behind us, as +Craig hurried ahead. +</p> + +<p> +It did not take long to reach the subway, and as we waited for the train, Craig +remarked: “This is a pretty good example of how the automobile is becoming one +of the most dangerous of criminal weapons. All one has to do nowadays, +apparently, after committing a crime, is to jump into a waiting car and breeze +away, safe.” +</p> + +<p> +We met Garwood and under his guidance picked our way westward from the better +known streets in the heart of the city, to a section that was anything but +prepossessing. +</p> + +<p> +The place which Garwood sought was a typical Raines Law hotel on a corner, with +a saloon on the first floor, and apparently the requisite number of rooms above +to give it a legal license. +</p> + +<p> +We had separated a little so that we would not attract undue attention. Kennedy +and I entered the swinging doors boldly, while the others continued across to +the other corner to wait with Garwood and take in the situation. It was a +strange expedition and Reginald was fidgeting while Duncan seemed nervous. +</p> + +<p> +Among the group of chauffeurs lounging at the bar and in the back room anyone +who had ever had any dealings with the gangs of New York might have recognized +the faces of men whose pictures were in the rogues’ gallery and who were +members of those various aristocratic organizations of the underworld. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy glanced about at the motley crowd. “This is a place where you need only +to be introduced properly,” he whispered to me, “to have any kind of crime +committed for you.” +</p> + +<p> +As we stood there, observing, without appearing to do so, through an open +window on the side street I could tell from the sounds that there was a garage +in the rear of the hotel. +</p> + +<p> +We were startled to hear a sudden uproar from the street. +</p> + +<p> +Garwood, impatient at our delay, had walked down past the garage to +reconnoiter. A car was being backed out hurriedly, and as it turned and swung +around the corner, his trained eye had recognized it. +</p> + +<p> +Instantly he had reasoned that it was an attempt to make a getaway, and had +raised an alarm. +</p> + +<p> +Those nearest the door piled out, keen for any excitement. We, too, dashed out +on the street. There we saw passing an automobile, swaying and lurching at the +terrific speed with which its driver, urged it up the avenue. As he flashed by +he looked like an Italian to me, perhaps a gunman. +</p> + +<p> +Garwood had impressed a passing trolley car into service and was pursuing the +automobile in it, as it swayed on its tracks as crazily as the motor did on the +roadway, running with all the power the motorman could apply. +</p> + +<p> +A mounted policeman galloped past us, blazing away at the tires. The avenue was +stirred, as seldom even in its strenuous life, with reports of shots, honking +of horns, the clang of trolley bells and the shouts of men. +</p> + +<p> +The pursuers were losing when there came a rattle and roar from the rear wheels +which told that the tires were punctured and the heavy car was riding on its +rims. A huge brewery wagon crossing a side street paused to see the fun, +effectually blocking the road. +</p> + +<p> +The car jolted to a stop. The chauffeur leaped out and a moment later dived +down into a cellar. In that congested district, pursuit was useless. +</p> + +<p> +“Only an accomplice,” commented Kennedy. “Perhaps we can get him some other way +if we can catch the man—or woman—higher up.” +</p> + +<p> +Down the street now we could see Garwood surrounded by a curious crowd but in +possession of the car. I looked about for Duncan and Reginald. They had +apparently been swallowed up in the crowds of idlers which seemed to be pouring +out of nowhere, collecting to gape at the excitement, after the manner of a New +York crowd. +</p> + +<p> +As I ran my eye over them, I caught sight of Reginald near the corner where we +had left him in an incipient fight with someone who had a fancied grievance. A +moment later we had rescued him. +</p> + +<p> +“Where’s Duncan?” he panted. “Did anything happen to him? Garwood told us to +stay here—but we got separated.” +</p> + +<p> +Policemen had appeared on the heels of the crowd and now, except for a knot +following Garwood, things seemed to be calming down. +</p> + +<p> +The excitement over, and the people thinning out, Kennedy still could not find +any trace of Duncan. Finally he glanced in again through the swinging doors. +There was Duncan, evidently quite upset by what had occurred, fortifying +himself at the bar. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly from above came a heavy thud, as if someone had fallen on the floor +above us, followed by a suppressed shuffling of feet and a cry of help. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy sprang toward a side door which led out into the hall to the hotel room +above. It was locked. Before any of the others he ran out on the street and +into the hall that way, taking the stairs two at a time, past a little +cubby-hole of an “office” and down the upper hall to a door from which came the +cry. +</p> + +<p> +It was a peculiar room into which we burst, half bedroom, half workshop, or +rather laboratory, for on a deal table by a window stood a rack of test-tubes, +several beakers, and other paraphernalia. +</p> + +<p> +A chambermaid was shrieking over a woman who was lying lethargic on the floor. +</p> + +<p> +I looked more closely. +</p> + +<p> +It was Dora Sears. +</p> + +<p> +For the moment I could not imagine what had happened. Had the events of the +past few days worked on her mind and driven her into temporary insanity? Or had +the blackmailing gang of automobile thieves, failing in extorting money by +their original plan, seized her? +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy bent over and tried to lift her up. As he did so, the gold bracelet, +unclasped, clattered to the floor. +</p> + +<p> +He picked it up and for a moment looked at it. It was hollow, but in that part +of it where it unclasped could be seen a minute hypodermic needle and traces of +a liquid. +</p> + +<p> +“A poison bracelet,” he muttered to himself, “one in which enough of a virulent +poison could be hidden so that in an emergency death could cheat the law.” +</p> + +<p> +“But this Dr. Hopf,” exclaimed Reginald, who stood behind us looking from the +insensible girl to the bracelet and slowly comprehending what it all meant, +“she alone knows where and who he is!” +</p> + +<p> +We looked at Kennedy. What was to be done? Was the criminal higher up to escape +because one of his tools had been cornered and had taken the easiest way to get +out? +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy had taken down the receiver of the wall telephone in the room. A moment +later he was calling insistently for his laboratory. One of the students in +another part of the building answered. Quickly he described the apparatus for +vividiffusion and how to handle it without rupturing any of the delicate tubes. +</p> + +<p> +“The large one,” he ordered, “with one hundred and ninety-two tubes. And +hurry.” +</p> + +<p> +Before the student appeared, came an ambulance which some one in the excitement +had summoned. Kennedy quickly commandeered both the young doctor and what +surgical material he had with him. +</p> + +<p> +Briefly he explained what he proposed to do and before the student arrived with +the apparatus, they had placed the nurse in such a position that they were +ready for the operation. +</p> + +<p> +The next room which was unoccupied had been thrown open to us and there I +waited with Reginald and Duncan, endeavoring to explain to them the mysteries +of the new process of washing the blood. +</p> + +<p> +The minutes lengthened into hours, as the blood of the poisoned girl coursed +through its artificial channel, literally being washed of the toxin from the +poisoned bracelet. +</p> + +<p> +Would it succeed? It had saved the life of Buster. But would it bring back the +unfortunate before us, long enough even for her to yield her secret and enable +us to catch the real criminal. What if she died? +</p> + +<p> +As Kennedy worked, the young men with me became more and more fascinated, +watching him. The vividiffusion apparatus was now in full operation. +</p> + +<p> +In the intervals when he left the apparatus in charge of the young ambulance +surgeon Kennedy was looking over the room. In a trunk which was open he found +several bundles of papers. As he ran his eye over them quickly, he selected +some and stuffed them into his pocket, then went back to watch the working of +the apparatus. +</p> + +<p> +Reginald, who had been growing more and more nervous, at last asked if he might +call up Betty to find out how his mother was. +</p> + +<p> +He came back from the telephone, his face wrinkled. +</p> + +<p> +“Poor mother,” he remarked anxiously, “do you think she will pull through, +Professor? Betty says that Dr. Wilson has given her no idea yet about the +nature of the trouble.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy thought a moment. “Of course,” he said, “your mother has had no such +relative amount of the poison as Buster has had. I think that undoubtedly she +will recover by purely natural means. I hope so. But if not, here is the +apparatus,” and he patted the vividiffusion tubes in their glass case, “that +will save her, too.” +</p> + +<p> +As well as I could I explained to Reginald the nature of the toxin that Kennedy +had discovered. Duncan listened, putting in a question now and then. But it was +evident that his thoughts were on something else, and now and then Reginald, +breaking into his old humor, rallied him about thinking of Betty. +</p> + +<p> +A low exclamation from both Kennedy and the surgeon attracted us. +</p> + +<p> +Dora Sears had moved. +</p> + +<p> +The operation of the apparatus was stopped, the artery and vein had been joined +up, and she was slowly coming out from under the effects of the anesthetic. +</p> + +<p> +As we gathered about her, at a little distance, we heard her cry in her +delirium, “I—I would have—done—anything—for him.” +</p> + +<p> +We strained our ears. Was she talking of the blackmailer, Dr. Hopf? +</p> + +<p> +“Who?” asked Craig, bending over close to her ear. +</p> + +<p> +“I—I would—have done anything,” she repeated as if someone had contradicted +her. She went on, dreamily, ramblingly, “He—is—is—my brother. I—” +</p> + +<p> +She stopped through weakness. +</p> + +<p> +“Where is Dr. Hopf?” asked Kennedy, trying to recall her fleeting attention. +</p> + +<p> +“Dr. Hopf? Dr. Hopf?” she repeated, then smiling to herself as people will when +they are leaving the borderline of anesthesia, she repeated the name, “Hopf?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” persisted Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +“There is no Dr. Hopf,” she added. “Tell me—did—did they—” +</p> + +<p> +“No Dr. Hopf?” Kennedy insisted. +</p> + +<p> +She had lapsed again into half insensibility. +</p> + +<p> +He rose and faced us, speaking rapidly. +</p> + +<p> +“New York seems to have a mysterious and uncanny attraction for odds and ends +of humanity, among them the great army of adventuresses. In fact there often +seems to be something decidedly adventurous about the nursing profession. This +is a girl of unusual education in medicine. Evidently she has traveled—her +letters show it. Many of them show that she has been in Italy. Perhaps it was +there that she heard of the drug that has been used in this case. It was she +who injected the germ-free toxin, first into the dog, then into Mrs. Blake, she +who wrote the blackmail letter which was to have explained the death.” +</p> + +<p> +He paused. Evidently she had heard dimly, was straining every effort to hear. +In her effort she caught sight of our faces. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly, as if she had seen an apparition, she raised herself with almost +superhuman strength. +</p> + +<p> +“Duncan!” she cried. “Duncan! Why—didn’t you—get away—while there was +time—after you warned me?” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy had wheeled about and was facing us. He was holding in his hand some of +the letters he had taken from the trunk. Among others was a folded piece of +parchment that looked like a diploma. He unfolded it and we bent over to read. +</p> + +<p> +It was a diploma from the Central Western College of Nursing. As I read the +name written in, it was with a shock. It was not Dora Sears, but Dora Baldwin. +</p> + +<p> +“A very clever plot,” he ground out, taking a step nearer us. “With the aid of +your sister and a disreputable gang of chauffeurs you planned to hasten the +death of Mrs. Blake, to hasten the inheritance of the Blake fortune by your +future wife. I think your creditors will have less chance of collecting now +than ever, Duncan Baldwin.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap22"></a>CHAPTER XXII<br/> +THE DEVIL WORSHIPERS</h2> + +<p> +Tragic though the end of the young nurse, Dora Baldwin, had been, the scheme of +her brother, in which she had become fatally involved, was by no means as +diabolical as that in the case that confronted us a short time after that. +</p> + +<p> +I recall this case particularly not only because it was so weird but also +because of the unique manner in which it began. +</p> + +<p> +“I am damned—Professor Kennedy—damned!” +</p> + +<p> +The words rang out as the cry of a lost soul. A terrible look of inexpressible +anguish and fear was written on the face of Craig’s visitor, as she uttered +them and sank back, trembling, in the easy chair, mentally and physically +convulsed. +</p> + +<p> +As nearly as I had been able to follow, Mrs. Veda Blair’s story had dealt +mostly with a Professor and Madame Rapport and something she called the “Red +Lodge” of the “Temple of the Occult.” +</p> + +<p> +She was not exactly a young woman, although she was a very attractive one. She +was of an age that is, perhaps, even more interesting than youth. +</p> + +<p> +Veda Blair, I knew, had been, before her recent marriage to Seward Blair, a +Treacy, of an old, though somewhat unfortunate, family. Both the Blairs and the +Treacys had been intimate and old Seward Blair, when he died about a year +before, had left his fortune to his son on the condition that he marry Veda +Treacy. +</p> + +<p> +“Sometimes,” faltered Mrs. Blair, “it is as though I had two souls. One of them +is dispossessed of its body and the use of its organs and is frantic at the +sight of the other that has crept in.” +</p> + +<p> +She ended her rambling story, sobbing the terrible words, “Oh—I have committed +the unpardonable sin—I am anathema—I am damned—damned!” +</p> + +<p> +She said nothing of what terrible thing she had done and Kennedy, for the +present, did not try to lead the conversation. But of all the stories that I +have heard poured forth in the confessional of the detective’s office, hers, I +think, was the wildest. +</p> + +<p> +Was she insane? At least I felt that she was sincere. Still, I wondered what +sort of hallucination Craig had to deal with, as Veda Blair repeated the +incoherent tale of her spiritual vagaries. +</p> + +<p> +Almost, I had begun to fancy that this was a case for a doctor, not for a +detective, when suddenly she asked a most peculiar question. +</p> + +<p> +“Can people affect you for good or evil, merely by thinking about you?” she +queried. Then a shudder passed over her. “They may be thinking about me now!” +she murmured in terror. +</p> + +<p> +Her fear was so real and her physical distress so evident that Kennedy, who had +been listening silently for the most part, rose and hastened to reassure her. +</p> + +<p> +“Not unless you make your own fears affect yourself and so play into their +hands,” he said earnestly. +</p> + +<p> +Veda looked at him a moment, then shook her head mournfully. “I have seen Dr. +Vaughn,” she said slowly. +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Gilbert Vaughn, I recollected, was a well-known alienist in the city. +</p> + +<p> +“He tried to tell me the same thing,” she resumed doubtfully. “But—oh—I know +what I know! I have felt the death thought—and he knows it!” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you mean?” inquired Kennedy, leaning forward keenly. +</p> + +<p> +“The death thought,” she repeated, “a malicious psychic attack. Some one is +driving me to death by it. I thought I could fight it off. I went away to +escape it. Now I have come back—and I have not escaped. There is always that +disturbing influence—always—directed against me. I know it will—kill me!” +</p> + +<p> +I listened, startled. The death thought! What did it mean? What terrible power +was it? Was it hypnotism? What was this fearsome, cruel belief, this modern +witchcraft that could unnerve a rich and educated woman? Surely, after all, I +felt that this was not a case for a doctor alone; it called for a detective. +</p> + +<p> +“You see,” she went on, heroically trying to control herself, “I have always +been interested in the mysterious, the strange, the occult. In fact my father +and my husband’s father met through their common interest. So, you see, I come +naturally by it. +</p> + +<p> +“Not long ago I heard of Professor and Madame Rapport and their new Temple of +the Occult. I went to it, and later Seward became interested, too. We have been +taken into a sort of inner circle,” she continued fearfully, as though there +were some evil power in the very words themselves, “the Red Lodge.” +</p> + +<p> +“You have told Dr. Vaughn?” shot out Kennedy suddenly, his eyes fixed on her +face to see what it would betray. +</p> + +<p> +Veda leaned forward, as if to tell a secret, then whispered in a low voice, “He +knows. Like us—he—he is a—Devil Worshiper!” +</p> + +<p> +“What?” exclaimed Kennedy in wide-eyed astonishment. +</p> + +<p> +“A Devil Worshiper,” she repeated. “You haven’t heard of the Red Lodge?” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy nodded negatively. “Could you get us—initiated?” he hazarded. +</p> + +<p> +“P—perhaps,” she hesitated, in a half-frightened tone. “I—I’ll try to get you +in to-night.” +</p> + +<p> +She had risen, half dazed, as if her own temerity overwhelmed her. +</p> + +<p> +“You—poor girl,” blurted out Kennedy, his sympathies getting the upper hand for +the moment as he took the hand she extended mutely. “Trust me. I will do all in +my power, all in the power of modern science to help you fight off +this—influence.” +</p> + +<p> +There must have been something magnetic, hypnotic in his eye. +</p> + +<p> +“I will stop here for you,” she murmured, as she almost fled from the room. +</p> + +<p> +Personally, I cannot say that I liked the idea of spying. It is not usually +clean and wholesome. But I realized that occasionally it was necessary. +</p> + +<p> +“We are in for it now,” remarked Kennedy half humorously, half seriously, “to +see the Devil in the twentieth century.” +</p> + +<p> +“And I,” I added, “I am, I suppose, to be the reporter to Satan.” +</p> + +<p> +We said nothing more about it, but I thought much about it, and the more I +thought, the more incomprehensible the thing seemed. I had heard of Devil +Worship, but had always associated it with far-off Indian and other heathen +lands—in fact never among Caucasians in modern times, except possibly in Paris. +Was there such a cult here in my own city? I felt skeptical. +</p> + +<p> +That night, however, promptly at the appointed time, a cab called for us, and +in it was Veda Blair, nervous but determined. +</p> + +<p> +“Seward has gone ahead,” she explained. “I told him that a friend had +introduced you, that you had studied the occult abroad. I trust you to carry it +out.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy reassured her. +</p> + +<p> +The curtains were drawn and we could see nothing outside, though we must have +been driven several miles, far out into the suburbs. +</p> + +<p> +At last the cab stopped. As we left it we could see nothing of the building, +for the cab had entered a closed courtyard. +</p> + +<p> +“Who enters the Red Lodge?” challenged a sepulchral voice at the porte-cochère. +“Give the password!” +</p> + +<p> +“The Serpent’s Tooth,” Veda answered. +</p> + +<p> +“Who are these?” asked the voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Neophytes,” she replied, and a whispered parley followed. +</p> + +<p> +“Then enter!” announced the voice at length. +</p> + +<p> +It was a large room into which we were first ushered, to be inducted into the +rites of Satan. +</p> + +<p> +There seemed to be both men and women, perhaps half a dozen votaries. Seward +Blair was already present. As I met him, I did not like the look in his eye; it +was too stary. Dr. Vaughn was there, too, talking in a low tone to Madame +Rapport. He shot a quick look at us. His were not eyes but gimlets that tried +to bore into your very soul. Chatting with Seward Blair was a Mrs. Langhorne, a +very beautiful woman. To-night she seemed to be unnaturally excited. +</p> + +<p> +All seemed to be on most intimate terms, and, as we waited a few minutes, I +could not help recalling a sentence from Huysmans: “The worship of the Devil is +no more insane than the worship of God. The worshipers of Satan are +mystics—mystics of an unclean sort, it is true, but mystics none the less.” +</p> + +<p> +I did not agree with it, and did not repeat it, of course, but a moment later I +overheard Dr. Vaughn saying to Kennedy: “Hoffman brought the Devil into modern +life. Poe forgoes the aid of demons and works patiently and precisely by the +scientific method. But the result is the same.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” agreed Kennedy for the sake of appearances, “in a sense, I suppose, we +are all devil worshipers in modern society—always have been. It is fear that +rules and we fear the bad—not the good.” +</p> + +<p> +As we waited, I felt, more and more, the sense of the mysterious, the secret, +the unknown which have always exercised a powerful attraction on the human +mind. Even the aeroplane and the submarine, the X-ray and wireless have not +banished the occult. +</p> + +<p> +In it, I felt, there was fascination for the frivolous and deep appeal to the +intellectual and spiritual. The Temple of the Occult had evidently been +designed to appeal to both types. I wondered how, like Lucifer, it had fallen. +The prime requisite, I could guess already, however, was—money. Was it in its +worship of the root of all evil that it had fallen? +</p> + +<p> +We passed soon into another room, hung entirely in red, with weird, cabalistic +signs all about, on the walls. It was uncanny, creepy. +</p> + +<p> +A huge reproduction in plaster of one of the most sardonic of Notre Dame’s +gargoyles seemed to preside over everything—a terrible figure in such an +atmosphere. +</p> + +<p> +As we entered, we were struck by the blinding glare of the light, in contrast +with the darkened room in which we had passed our brief novitiate, if it might +be called such. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly the lights were extinguished. +</p> + +<p> +The great gargoyle shone with an infernal light of its own! +</p> + +<p> +“Phosphorescent paint,” whispered Kennedy to me. +</p> + +<p> +Still, it did not detract from the weird effect to know what caused it. +</p> + +<p> +There was a startling noise in the general hush. +</p> + +<p> +“Sata!” cried one of the devotees. +</p> + +<p> +A door opened and there appeared the veritable priest of the Devil—pale of +face, nose sharp, mouth bitter, eyes glassy. +</p> + +<p> +“That is Rapport,” Vaughn whispered to me. +</p> + +<p> +The worshipers crowded forward. +</p> + +<p> +Without a word, he raised his long, lean forefinger and began to single them +out impressively. As he did so, each spoke, as if imploring aid. +</p> + +<p> +He came to Mrs. Langhorne. +</p> + +<p> +“I have tried the charm,” she cried earnestly, “and the one whom I love still +hates me, while the one I hate loves me!” +</p> + +<p> +“Concentrate!” replied the priest, “concentrate! Think always ‘I love him. He +must love me. I want him to love me. I love him. He must love me.’ Over and +over again you must think it. Then the other side, ‘I hate him. He must leave +me. I want him to leave me. I hate him—hate him.’” +</p> + +<p> +Around the circle he went. +</p> + +<p> +At last his lean finger was outstretched at Veda. It seemed as if some imp of +the perverse were compelling her unwilling tongue to unlock its secrets. +</p> + +<p> +“Sometimes,” she cried in a low, tremulous voice, “something seems to seize me, +as if by the hand and urge me onward. I cannot flee from it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Defend yourself!” answered the priest subtly. “When you know that some one is +trying to kill you mentally, defend yourself! Work against it by every means in +your power. Discourage! Intimidate! Destroy!” +</p> + +<p> +I marveled at these cryptic utterances. They shadowed a modern Black Art, of +which I had had no conception—a recrudescence in other language of the age-old +dualism of good and evil. It was a sort of mental malpractice. +</p> + +<p> +“Over and over again,” he went on speaking to her, “the same thought is to be +repeated against an enemy. ‘You know you are going to die! You know you are +going to die!’ Do it an hour, two hours, at a time. Others can help you, all +thinking in unison the same thought.” +</p> + +<p> +What was this, I asked myself breathlessly—a new transcendental toxicology? +</p> + +<p> +Slowly, a strange mephitic vapor seemed to exhale into the room—or was it my +heightened imagination? +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap23"></a>CHAPTER XXIII<br/> +THE PSYCHIC CURSE</h2> + +<p> +There came a sudden noise—nameless—striking terror, low, rattling. I stood +rooted to the spot. What was it that held me? Was it an atavistic joy in the +horrible or was it merely a blasphemous curiosity? +</p> + +<p> +I scarcely dared to look. +</p> + +<p> +At last I raised my eyes. There was a live snake, upraised, his fangs striking +out viciously—a rattler! +</p> + +<p> +I would have drawn back and fled, but Craig caught my arm. +</p> + +<p> +“Caged,” he whispered monosyllabically. +</p> + +<p> +I shuddered. This, at least, was no drawing-room diablerie. +</p> + +<p> +“It is Ophis,” intoned Rapport, “the Serpent—the one active form in Nature that +cannot be ungraceful!” +</p> + +<p> +The appearance of the basilisk seemed to heighten the tension. +</p> + +<p> +At last it broke loose and then followed the most terrible blasphemies. The +disciples, now all frenzied, surrounded closer the priest, the gargoyle and the +serpent. +</p> + +<p> +They worshiped with howls and obscenities. Mad laughter mingled with pale fear +and wild scorn in turns were written on the hectic faces about me. +</p> + +<p> +They had risen—it became a dance, a reel. +</p> + +<p> +The votaries seemed to spin about on their axes, as it were, uttering a low, +moaning chant as they whirled. It was a mania, the spirit of demonism. +Something unseen seemed to urge them on. +</p> + +<p> +Disgusted and stifled at the surcharged atmosphere, I would have tried to +leave, but I seemed frozen to the spot. I could think of nothing except Poe’s +Masque of the Red Death. +</p> + +<p> +Above all the rest whirled Seward Blair himself. The laugh of the fiend, for +the moment, was in his mouth. An instant he stood—the oracle of the +Demon—devil-possessed. Around whirled the frantic devotees, howling. +</p> + +<p> +Shrilly he cried, “The Devil is in me!” +</p> + +<p> +Forward staggered the devil dancer—tall, haggard, with deep sunken eyes and +matted hair, face now smeared with dirt and blood-red with the reflection of +the strange, unearthly phosphorescence. +</p> + +<p> +He reeled slowly through the crowd, crooning a quatrain, in a low, monotonous +voice, his eyelids drooping and his head forward on his breast: +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +If the Red Slayer think he slays,<br/> + Or the slain think he is slain,<br/> +They know not well the subtle ways<br/> + I keep and pass and turn again! +</p> + +<p> +Entranced the whirling crowd paused and watched. One of their number had +received the “power.” +</p> + +<p> +He was swaying slowly to and fro. +</p> + +<p> +“Look!” whispered Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +His fingers twitched, his head wagged uncannily. Perspiration seemed to ooze +from every pore. His breast heaved. +</p> + +<p> +He gave a sudden yell—ear-piercing. Then followed a screech of hellish +laughter. +</p> + +<p> +The dance had ended, the dancers spellbound at the sight. +</p> + +<p> +He was whirling slowly, eyes protruding now, mouth foaming, chest rising and +falling like a bellows, muscles quivering. +</p> + +<p> +Cries, vows, imprecations, prayers, all blended in an infernal hubbub. +</p> + +<p> +With a burst of ghastly, guttural laughter, he shrieked, “I <i>am</i> the +Devil!” +</p> + +<p> +His arms waved—cutting, sawing, hacking the air. +</p> + +<p> +The votaries, trembling, scarcely moved, breathed, as he danced. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly he gave a great leap into the air—then fell, motionless. They crowded +around him. The fiendish look was gone—the demoniac laughter stilled. +</p> + +<p> +It was over. +</p> + +<p> +The tension of the orgy had been too much for us. We parted, with scarcely a +word, and yet I could feel that among the rest there was a sort of unholy +companionship. +</p> + +<p> +Silently, Kennedy and I drove away in the darkened cab, this time with Seward +and Veda Blair and Mrs. Langhorne. +</p> + +<p> +For several minutes not a word was said. I was, however, much occupied in +watching the two women. It was not because of anything they said or did. That +was not necessary. But I felt that there was a feud, something that set them +against each other. +</p> + +<p> +“How would Rapport use the death thought, I wonder?” asked Craig speculatively, +breaking the silence. +</p> + +<p> +Blair answered quickly. “Suppose some one tried to break away, to renounce the +Lodge, expose its secrets. They would treat him so as to make him +harmless—perhaps insane, confused, afraid to talk, paralyzed, or even to commit +suicide or be killed in an accident. They would put the death thought on him!” +</p> + +<p> +Even in the prosaic jolting of the cab, away from the terrible mysteries of the +Red Lodge, one could feel the spell. +</p> + +<p> +The cab stopped. Seward was on his feet in a moment and handing Mrs. Langhorne +out at her home. For a moment they paused on the steps for an exchange of +words. +</p> + +<p> +In that moment I caught flitting over the face of Veda a look of hatred, more +intense, more real, more awful than any that had been induced under the +mysteries of the rites at the Lodge. +</p> + +<p> +It was gone in an instant, and as Seward rejoined us I felt that, with Mrs. +Langhorne gone, there was less restraint. I wondered whether it was she who had +inspired the fear in Veda. +</p> + +<p> +Although it was more comfortable, the rest of our journey was made in silence +and the Blairs dropped us at our apartment with many expressions of cordiality +as we left them to proceed to their own. +</p> + +<p> +“Of one thing I’m sure,” I remarked, entering the room where only a few short +hours before Mrs. Blair had related her strange tale. “Whatever the cause of +it, the devil dancers don’t sham.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy did not reply. He was apparently wrapped up in the consideration of the +remarkable events of the evening. +</p> + +<p> +As for myself, it was a state of affairs which, the day before, I should have +pronounced utterly beyond the wildest bounds of the imagination of the most +colorful writer. Yet here it was; I had seen it. +</p> + +<p> +I glanced up to find Kennedy standing by the light examining something he had +apparently picked up at the Red Lodge. I bent over to look at it, too. It was a +little glass tube. +</p> + +<p> +“An ampoule, I believe the technical name of such a container is,” he remarked, +holding it closer to the light. +</p> + +<p> +In it were the remains of a dried yellow substance, broken up minutely, +resembling crystals. +</p> + +<p> +“Who dropped it?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Vaughn, I think,” he replied. “At least, I saw him near Blair, stooping over +him, at the end, and I imagine this is what I saw gleaming for an instant in +the light.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy said nothing more, and for my part I was thoroughly at sea and could +make nothing out of it all. +</p> + +<p> +“What object can such a man as Dr. Vaughn possibly have in frequenting such a +place?” I asked at length, adding, “And there’s that Mrs. Langhorne—she was +interesting, too.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy made no direct reply. “I shall have them shadowed to-morrow,” he said +briefly, “while I am at work in the laboratory over this ampoule.” +</p> + +<p> +As usual, also, Craig had begun on his scientific studies long before I was +able to shake myself loose from the nightmares that haunted me after our weird +experience of the evening. +</p> + +<p> +He had already given the order to an agency for the shadowing, and his next +move was to start me out, also, looking into the history of those concerned in +the case. As far as I was able to determine, Dr. Vaughn had an excellent +reputation, and I could find no reason whatever for his connection with +anything of the nature of the Red Lodge. The Rapports seemed to be nearly +unknown in New York, although it was reported that they had come from Paris +lately. Mrs. Langhorne was a divorcée from one of the western states, but +little was known about her, except that she always seemed to be well supplied +with money. It seemed to be well known in the circle in which Seward Blair +moved that he was friendly with her, and I had about reached the conclusion +that she was unscrupulously making use of his friendship, perhaps was not above +such a thing as blackmail. +</p> + +<p> +Thus the day passed, and we heard no word from Veda Blair, although that was +explained by the shadows, whose trails crossed in a most unexpected manner. +Their reports showed that there was a meeting at the Red Lodge during the late +afternoon, at which all had been present except Dr. Vaughn. We learned also +from them the exact location of the Lodge, in an old house just across the line +in Westchester. +</p> + +<p> +It was evidently a long and troublesome analysis that Craig was engaged in at +the laboratory, for it was some hours after dinner that night when he came into +the apartment, and even then he said nothing, but buried himself in some of the +technical works with which his library was stocked. He said little, but I +gathered that he was in great doubt about something, perhaps, as much as +anything, about how to proceed with so peculiar a case. +</p> + +<p> +It was growing late, and Kennedy was still steeped in his books, when the door +of the apartment, which we happened to have left unlocked, was suddenly thrown +open and Seward Blair burst in on us, wildly excited. +</p> + +<p> +“Veda is gone!” he cried, before either of us could ask him what was the +matter. +</p> + +<p> +“Gone?” repeated Kennedy. “How—where?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know,” Blair blurted out breathlessly. “We had been out together this +afternoon, and I returned with her. Then I went out to the club after dinner +for a while, and when I got back I missed her—not quarter of an hour ago. I +burst into her room—and there I found this note. Read it. I don’t know what to +do. No one seems to know what has become of her. I’ve called up all over and +then thought perhaps you might help me, might know some friend of hers that I +don’t know, with whom she might have gone out.” +</p> + +<p> +Blair was plainly eager for us to help him. Kennedy took the paper from him. On +it, in a trembling hand, were scrawled some words, evidently addressed to Blair +himself: +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +“You would forgive me and pity me if you knew what I have been through. +</p> + +<p> +“When I refused to yield my will to the will of the Lodge I suppose I aroused +the enmity of the Lodge. +</p> + +<p> +“To-night as I lay in bed, alone, I felt that my hour had come, that mental +forces that were almost irresistible were being directed against me. +</p> + +<p> +“I realized that I must fight not only for my sanity but for my life. +</p> + +<p> +“For hours I have fought that fight. +</p> + +<p> +“But during those hours, some one, I won’t say who, seemed to have developed +such psychic faculties of penetration that they were able to make their bodies +pass through the walls of my room. +</p> + +<p> +“At last I am conquered. I pray that you—” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +The writing broke off abruptly, as if she had left it in wild flight. +</p> + +<p> +“What does that mean?” asked Kennedy, “the ‘will of the Lodge’?” +</p> + +<p> +Blair looked at us keenly. I fancied that there was even something accusatory +in the look. “Perhaps it was some mental reservation on her part,” he +suggested. “You do not know yourself of any reason why she should fear +anything, do you?” he asked pointedly. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy did not betray even by the motion of an eyelash that we knew more than +we should ostensibly. +</p> + +<p> +There was a tap at the door. I sprang to open it, thinking perhaps, after all, +it was Veda herself. +</p> + +<p> +Instead, a man, a stranger, stood there. +</p> + +<p> +“Is this Professor Kennedy?” he asked, touching his hat. +</p> + +<p> +Craig nodded. +</p> + +<p> +“I am from the psychopathic ward of the City Hospital—an orderly, sir,” the man +introduced. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” encouraged Craig, “what can I do for you?” +</p> + +<p> +“A Mrs. Blair has just been brought in, sir, and we can’t find her husband. +She’s calling for you now.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy stared from the orderly to Seward Blair, startled, speechless. +</p> + +<p> +“What has happened?” asked Blair anxiously. “I am Mr. Blair.” +</p> + +<p> +The orderly shook his head. He had delivered his message. That was all he knew. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you suppose it is?” I asked, as we sped across town in a taxicab. “Is +it the curse that she dreaded?” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy said nothing and Blair appeared to hear nothing. His face was drawn in +tense lines. +</p> + +<p> +The psychopathic ward is at once one of the most interesting and one of the +most depressing departments of a large city hospital, harboring, as it does, +all from the more or less harmless insane to violent alcoholics and wrecked +drug fiends. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Blair, we learned, had been found hatless, without money, dazed, having +fallen, after an apparently aimless wandering in the streets. +</p> + +<p> +For the moment she lay exhausted on the white bed of the ward, eyes glazed, +pupils contracted, pulse now quick, now almost evanescent, face drawn, +breathing difficult, moaning now and then in physical and mental agony. +</p> + +<p> +Until she spoke it was impossible to tell what had happened, but the ambulance +surgeon had found a little red mark on her white forearm and had pointed it +out, evidently with the idea that she was suffering from a drug. +</p> + +<p> +At the mere sight of the mark, Blair stared as though hypnotized. Leaning over +to Kennedy, so that the others could not hear, he whispered, “It is the mark of +the serpent!” +</p> + +<p> +Our arrival had been announced to the hospital physician, who entered and stood +for a moment looking at the patient. +</p> + +<p> +“I think it is a drug—a poison,” he said meditatively. +</p> + +<p> +“You haven’t found out yet what it is, then?” asked Craig. +</p> + +<p> +The physician shook his head doubtfully. “Whatever it is,” he said slowly, “it +is closely allied to the cyanide groups in its rapacious activity. I haven’t +the slightest idea of its true nature, but it seems to have a powerful affinity +for important nerve centers of respiration and muscular coordination, as well +as for disorganizing the blood. I should say that it produces death by +respiratory paralysis and convulsions. To my mind it is an exact, though +perhaps less active, counterpart of hydrocyanic acid.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy had been listening intently at the start, but before the physician had +finished he had bent over and made a ligature quickly with his handkerchief. +</p> + +<p> +Then he dispatched a messenger with a note. Next he cut about the minute wound +on her arm until the blood flowed, cupping it to increase the flow. Now and +then he had them administer a little stimulant. +</p> + +<p> +He had worked rapidly, while Blair watched him with a sort of fascination. +</p> + +<p> +“Get Dr. Vaughn,” ordered Craig, as soon as he had a breathing spell after his +quick work, adding, “and Professor and Madame Rapport. Walter, attend to that, +will you? I think you will find an officer outside. You’ll have to compel them +to come, if they won’t come otherwise,” he added, giving the address of the +Lodge, as we had found it. +</p> + +<p> +Blair shot a quick look at him, as though Craig in his knowledge were uncanny. +Apparently, the address had been a secret which he thought we did not know. +</p> + +<p> +I managed to find an officer and dispatch him for the Rapports. A hospital +orderly, I thought, would serve to get Dr. Vaughn. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap24"></a>CHAPTER XXIV<br/> +THE SERPENT’S TOOTH</h2> + +<p> +I had scarcely returned to the ward when, suddenly, an unnatural strength +seemed to be infused into Veda. +</p> + +<p> +She had risen in bed. +</p> + +<p> +“It shall not catch me!” she cried in a new paroxysm of nameless terror. +“No—no—it is pursuing me. I am never out of its grasp. I have been thought six +feet underground—I know it. There it is again—still driving me—still driving +me! +</p> + +<p> +“Will it never stop? Will no one stop it? Save me! It—is the death thought!” +</p> + +<p> +She had risen convulsively and had drawn back in abject, cowering terror. What +was it she saw? Evidently it was very real and very awful. It pursued her +relentlessly. +</p> + +<p> +As she lay there, rolling her eyes about, she caught sight of us and recognized +us for the first time, although she had been calling for us. +</p> + +<p> +“They had the thought on you, too, Professor Kennedy,” she almost screamed. +“Hour after hour, Rapport and the rest repeated over and over again, ‘Why does +not some one kill him? Why does he not die?’ They knew you—even when I brought +you to the Red Lodge. They thought you were a spy.” +</p> + +<p> +I turned to Kennedy. He had advanced and was leaning over to catch every word. +Blair was standing behind me and she had not seen her husband yet. A quick +glance showed me that he was trembling from head to foot like a leaf, as though +he, too, were pursued by the nameless terror. +</p> + +<p> +“What did they do?” Kennedy asked in a low tone. +</p> + +<p> +Fearfully, gripping the bars of the iron bed, as though they were some tangible +support for her mind, she answered: “They would get together. ‘Now, all of +you,’ they said, ‘unite yourselves in thought against our enemy, against +Kennedy, that he must leave off persecuting us. He is ripe for destruction!’” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy glanced sidewise at me, with a significant look. +</p> + +<p> +“God grant,” she implored, “that none haunt me for what I have done in my +ignorance!” +</p> + +<p> +Just then the door opened and my messenger entered, accompanied by Dr. Vaughn. +</p> + +<p> +I had turned to catch the expression on Blair’s face just in time. It was a +look of abject appeal. +</p> + +<p> +Before Dr. Vaughn could ask a question, or fairly take in the situation, +Kennedy had faced him. +</p> + +<p> +“What was the purpose of all that elaborate mummery out at the Red Lodge?” +asked Kennedy pointblank. +</p> + +<p> +I think I looked at Craig in no less amazement than Vaughn. In spite of the +dramatic scenes through which we had passed, the spell of the occult had not +fallen on him for an instant. +</p> + +<p> +“Mummery?” repeated Dr. Vaughn, bending his penetrating eyes on Kennedy, as if +he would force him to betray himself first. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” reiterated Craig. “You know as well as I do that it has been said that +it is a well-established fact that the world wants to be deceived and is +willing to pay for the privilege.” +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Vaughn still gazed from one to the other of us defiantly. +</p> + +<p> +“You know what I mean,” persisted Kennedy, “the mumbo-jumbo—just as the Haitian +obi man sticks pins in a doll or melts a wax figure of his enemy. That is +supposed to be an outward sign. But back of this terrible power that people +believe moves in darkness and mystery is something tangible—something real.” +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Vaughn looked up sharply at him, I think mistaking Kennedy’s meaning. If he +did, all doubt that Kennedy attributed anything to the supernatural was removed +as he went on: “At first I had no explanation of the curious events I have just +witnessed, and the more I thought about them, the more obscure did they seem. +</p> + +<p> +“I have tried to reason the thing out,” he continued thoughtfully. “Did +auto-suggestion, self-hypnotism explain what I have seen? Has Veda Blair been +driven almost to death by her own fears only?” +</p> + +<p> +No one interrupted and he answered his own question. “Somehow the idea that it +was purely fear that had driven her on did not satisfy me. As I said, I wanted +something more tangible. I could not help thinking that it was not merely +subjective. There was something objective, some force at work, something more +than psychic in the result achieved by this criminal mental marauder, whoever +it is.” +</p> + +<p> +I was following Kennedy’s reasoning now closely. As he proceeded, the point +that he was making seemed more clear to me. +</p> + +<p> +Persons of a certain type of mind could be really mentally unbalanced by such +methods which we had heard outlined, where the mere fact of another trying to +exert power over them became known to them. They would, as a matter of fact, +unbalance themselves, thinking about and fighting off imaginary terrors. +</p> + +<p> +Such people, I could readily see, might be quickly controlled, and in the wake +of such control would follow stifled love, wrecked homes, ruined fortunes, +suicide and even death. +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Vaughn leaned forward critically. “What did you conclude, then, was the +explanation of what you saw last night?” he asked sharply. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy met his question squarely, without flinching. “It looks to me,” he +replied quietly, “like a sort of hystero-epilepsy. It is well known, I believe, +to demonologists—those who have studied this sort of thing. They have +recognized the contortions, the screams, the wild, blasphemous talk, the +cataleptic rigidity. They are epileptiform.” +</p> + +<p> +Vaughn said nothing, but continued to weigh Kennedy as if in a balance. I, who +knew him, knew that it would take a greater than Vaughn to find him wanting, +once Kennedy chose to speak. As for Vaughn, was he trying to hide behind some +technicality in medical ethics? +</p> + +<p> +“Dr. Vaughn,” continued Craig, as if goading him to the point of breaking down +his calm silence, “you are specialist enough to know these things as well, +better than I do. You must know that epilepsy is one of the most peculiar +diseases. +</p> + +<p> +“The victim may be in good physical condition, apparently. In fact, some hardly +know that they have it. But it is something more than merely the fits. Always +there is something wrong mentally. It is not the motor disturbance so much as +the disturbance of consciousness.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy was talking slowly, deliberately, so that none could drop a link in the +reasoning. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps one in ten epileptics has insane periods, more or less,” he went on, +“and there is no more dangerous form of insanity. Self-consciousness is lost, +and in this state of automatism the worst of crimes have been committed without +the subsequent knowledge of the patient. In that state they are no more +responsible than are the actors in one’s dreams.” +</p> + +<p> +The hospital physician entered, accompanied by Craig’s messenger, breathless. +Craig almost seized the package from his hands and broke the seal. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah—this is what I wanted,” he exclaimed, with an air of relief, forgetting for +the time the exposition of the case that he was engaged in. “Here I have some +anti-crotalus venine, of Drs. Flexner and Noguchi. Fortunately, in the city it +is within easy reach.” +</p> + +<p> +Quickly, with the aid of the physician he injected it into Veda’s arm. +</p> + +<p> +“Of all substances in nature,” he remarked, still at work over the unfortunate +woman, “none is so little known as the venom of serpents.” +</p> + +<p> +It was a startling idea which the sentence had raised in my mind. All at once I +recalled the first remark of Seward Blair, in which he had repeated the +password that had admitted us into the Red Lodge—“the Serpent’s Tooth.” Could +it have been that she had really been bitten at some of the orgies by the +serpent which they worshiped hideously hissing in its cage? I was sure that, at +least until they were compelled, none would say anything about it. Was that the +interpretation of the almost hypnotized look on Blair’s face? +</p> + +<p> +“We know next to nothing of the composition of the protein bodies in the venoms +which have such terrific, quick physiological effects,” Kennedy was saying. +“They have been studied, it is true, but we cannot really say that they are +understood—or even that there are any adequate tests by which they can be +recognized. The fact is, that snake venoms are about the safest of poisons for +the criminal.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy had scarcely propounded this startling idea when a car was heard +outside. The Rapports had arrived, with the officer I had sent after them, +protesting and threatening. +</p> + +<p> +They quieted down a bit as they entered, and after a quick glance around saw +who was present. +</p> + +<p> +Professor Rapport gave one glance at the victim lying exhausted on the bed, +then drew back, melodramatically, and cried, “The Serpent—the mark of the +serpent!” +</p> + +<p> +For a moment Kennedy gazed full in the eyes of them all. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Was</i> it a snake bite?” he asked slowly, then, turning to Mrs. Blair, +after a quick glance, he went on rapidly, “The first thing to ascertain is +whether the mark consists of two isolated punctures, from the poison-conducting +teeth or fangs of the snake, which are constructed like a hypodermic needle.” +</p> + +<p> +The hospital physician had bent over her at the words, and before Kennedy could +go on interrupted: “This was not a snake bite; it was more likely from an +all-glass hypodermic syringe with a platinum-iridium needle.” +</p> + +<p> +Professor Rapport, priest of the Devil, advanced a step menacingly toward +Kennedy. “Remember,” he said in a low, angry tone, “remember—you are pledged to +keep the secrets of the Red Lodge!” +</p> + +<p> +Craig brushed aside the sophistry with a sentence. “I do not recognize any +secrets that I have to keep about the meeting this afternoon to which you +summoned the Blairs and Mrs. Langhorne, according to reports from the shadows I +had placed on Mrs. Langhorne and Dr. Vaughn.” +</p> + +<p> +If there is such a thing as the evil eye, Rapport’s must have been a pair of +them, as he realized that Kennedy had resorted to the simple devices of +shadowing the devotees. +</p> + +<p> +A cry, almost a shriek, startled us. Kennedy’s encounter with Rapport had had +an effect which none of us had considered. The step or two in advance which the +prophet had taken had brought him into the line of vision of the still +half-stupefied Veda lying back of Kennedy on the hospital cot. +</p> + +<p> +The mere sight of him, the sound of his voice and the mention of the Red Lodge +had been sufficient to penetrate that stupor. She was sitting bolt upright, a +ghastly, trembling specter. Slowly a smile seemed to creep over the cruel face +of the mystic. Was it not a recognition of his hypnotic power? +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy turned and laid a gentle hand on the quaking convulsed figure of the +woman. One could feel the electric tension in the air, the battle of two powers +for good or evil. Which would win—the old fascination of the occult or the new +power of science? +</p> + +<p> +It was a dramatic moment. Yet not so dramatic as the outcome. To my surprise, +neither won. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly she caught sight of her husband. Her face changed. All the prehistoric +jealousy of which woman is capable seemed to blaze forth. +</p> + +<p> +“I will defend myself!” she cried. “I will fight back! She shall not win—she +shall not have you—no—she shall not—never!” +</p> + +<p> +I recalled the strained feeling between the two women that I had noticed in the +cab. Was it Mrs. Langhorne who had been the disturbing influence, whose power +she feared, over herself and over her husband? +</p> + +<p> +Rapport had fallen back a step, but not from the mind of Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +“Here,” challenged Craig, facing the group and drawing from his pocket the +glass ampoule, “I picked this up at the Red Lodge last night.” +</p> + +<p> +He held it out in his hand before the Rapports so that they could not help but +see it. Were they merely good actors? They betrayed nothing, at least by face +or action. +</p> + +<p> +“It is crotalin,” he announced, “the venom of the rattlesnake—crotalus +horridus. It has been noticed that persons suffering from certain diseases of +which epilepsy is one, after having been bitten by a rattlesnake, if they +recover from the snake bite, are cured of the disease.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy was forging straight ahead now in his exposure. “Crotalin,” he +continued, “is one of the new drugs used in the treatment of epilepsy. But it +is a powerful two-edged instrument. Some one who knew the drug, who perhaps had +used it, has tried an artificial bite of a rattler on Veda Blair, not for +epilepsy, but for another, diabolical purpose, thinking to cover up the crime, +either as the result of the so-called death thought of the Lodge or as the bite +of the real rattler at the Lodge.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy had at last got under Dr. Vaughn’s guard. All his reticence was gone. +</p> + +<p> +“I joined the cult,” he confessed. “I did it in order to observe and treat one +of my patients for epilepsy. I justified myself. I said, ‘I will be the +exposer, not the accomplice, of this modern Satanism.’ I joined it and—” +</p> + +<p> +“There is no use trying to shield anyone, Vaughn,” rapped out Kennedy, scarcely +taking time to listen. “An epileptic of the most dangerous criminal type has +arranged this whole elaborate setting as a plot to get rid of the wife who +brought him his fortune and now stands in the way of his unholy love of Mrs. +Langhorne. He used you to get the poison with which you treated him. He used +the Rapports with money to play on her mysticism by their so-called death +thought, while he watched his opportunity to inject the fatal crotalin.” +</p> + +<p> +Craig faced the criminal, whose eyes now showed more plainly than words his +deranged mental condition, and in a low tone added, “The Devil <i>is</i> in +you, Seward Blair!” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap25"></a>CHAPTER XXV<br/> +THE “HAPPY DUST”</h2> + +<p> +Veda Blair’s rescue from the strange use that was made of the venom came at a +time when the city was aroused as it never had been before over the nation-wide +agitation against drugs. +</p> + +<p> +Already, it will be recalled, Kennedy and I had had some recent experience with +dope fiends of various kinds, but this case I set down because it drew us more +intimately into the crusade. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve called on you, Professor Kennedy, to see if I can’t interest you in the +campaign I am planning against drugs.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Claydon Sutphen, social leader and suffragist, had scarcely more than +introduced herself when she launched earnestly into the reason for her visit to +us. +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t realize it, perhaps,” she continued rapidly, “but very often a +little silver bottle of tablets is as much a necessary to some women of the +smart set as cosmetics.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve heard of such cases,” nodded Craig encouragingly. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you see I became interested in the subject,” she added, “when I saw some +of my own friends going down. That’s how I came to plan the campaign in the +first place.” +</p> + +<p> +She paused, evidently nervous. “I’ve been threatened, too,” she went on, “but +I’m not going to give up the fight. People think that drugs are a curse only to +the underworld, but they have no idea what inroads the habit has made in the +upper world, too. Oh, it is awful!” she exclaimed. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly, she leaned over and whispered, “Why, there’s my own sister, Mrs. +Garrett. She began taking drugs after an operation, and now they have a +terrible hold on her. I needn’t try to conceal anything. It’s all been +published in the papers—everybody knows it. Think of it—divorced, disgraced, +all through these cursed drugs! Dr. Coleman, our family physician, has done +everything known to break up the habit, but he hasn’t succeeded.” +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Coleman, I knew, was a famous society physician. If he had failed, I +wondered why she thought a detective might succeed. But it was evidently +another purpose she had in mind in introducing the subject. +</p> + +<p> +“So you can understand what it all means to me, personally,” she resumed, with +a sigh. “I’ve studied the thing—I’ve been forced to study it. Why, now the +exploiters are even making drug fiends of mere—children!” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Sutphen spread out a crumpled sheet of note paper before us on which was +written something in a trembling scrawl. “For instance, here’s a letter I +received only yesterday.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy glanced over it carefully. It was signed “A Friend,” and read: +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +“I have heard of your drug war in the newspapers and wish to help you, only I +don’t dare to do so openly. But I can assure you that if you will investigate +what I am about to tell you, you will soon be on the trail of those higher up +in this terrible drug business. There is a little center of the traffic on West +66th Street, just off Broadway. I cannot tell you more, but if you can +investigate it, you will be doing more good than you can possibly realize now. +There is one girl there, whom they call ‘Snowbird.’ If you could only get hold +of her quietly and place her in a sanitarium you might save her yet.” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +Craig was more than ordinarily interested. “And the children—what did you mean +by that?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, it’s literally true,” asserted Mrs. Sutphen in a horrified tone. “Some of +the victims are actually school children. Up there in 66th Street we have found +a man named Armstrong, who seems to be very friendly with this young girl whom +they call ‘Snowbird.’ Her real name, by the way, is Sawtelle, I believe. She +can’t be over eighteen, a mere child, yet she’s a slave to the stuff.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, then you have actually already acted on the hint in the letter?” asked +Craig. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” she replied, “I’ve had one of the agents of our Anti-Drug Society, a +social worker, investigating the neighborhood.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy nodded for her to go on. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve even investigated myself a little, and now I want to employ some one to +break the thing up. My husband had heard of you and so here I am. Can you help +me?” +</p> + +<p> +There was a note of appeal in her voice that was irresistible to a man who had +the heart of Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +“Tell me just what you have discovered so far,” he asked simply. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” she replied slowly, “after my agent verified the contents of the +letter, I watched until I saw this girl—she’s a mere child, as I said—going to +a cabaret in the neighborhood. What struck me was that I saw her go in looking +like a wreck and come out a beautiful creature, with bright eyes, flushed +cheeks, almost youthful again. A most remarkable girl she is, too,” mused Mrs. +Sutphen, “who always wears a white gown, white hat, white shoes and white +stockings. It must be a mania with her.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Sutphen seemed to have exhausted her small store of information, and as +she rose to go Kennedy rose also. “I shall be glad to look into the case, Mrs. +Sutphen,” he promised. “I’m sure there is something that can be done—there must +be.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you, ever so much,” she murmured, as she paused at the door, something +still on her mind. “And perhaps, too,” she added, “you may run across my +sister, Mrs. Garrett.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed,” he assured her, “if there is anything I can possibly do that will +assist you personally, I shall be only too happy to do it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you again, ever so much,” she repeated with just a little choke in her +voice. +</p> + +<p> +For several moments Kennedy sat contemplating the anonymous letter which she +had left with him, studying both its contents and the handwriting. +</p> + +<p> +“We must go over the ground up there again,” he remarked finally. “Perhaps we +can do better than Mrs. Sutphen and her drug investigator have done.” +</p> + +<p> +Half an hour later we had arrived and were sauntering along the street in +question, walking slowly up and down in the now fast-gathering dusk. It was a +typical cheap apartment block of variegated character, with people sitting idly +on the narrow front steps and children spilling out into the roadway in +imminent danger of their young lives from every passing automobile. +</p> + +<p> +On the crowded sidewalk a creation in white hurtled past us. One glance at the +tense face in the flickering arc light was enough for Kennedy. He pulled my arm +and we turned and followed at a safe distance. +</p> + +<p> +She looked like a girl who could not have been more than eighteen, if she was +as old as that. She was pretty, too, but already her face was beginning to look +old and worn from the use of drugs. It was unmistakable. +</p> + +<p> +In spite of the fact that she was hurrying, it was not difficult to follow her +in the crowd, as she picked her way in and out, and finally turned into +Broadway where the white lights were welcoming the night. +</p> + +<p> +Under the glare of a huge electric sign she stopped a moment, then entered one +of the most notorious of the cabarets. +</p> + +<p> +We entered also at a discreet distance and sat down at a table. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t look around, Walter,” whispered Craig, as the waiter took our order, +“but to your right is Mrs. Sutphen.” +</p> + +<p> +If he had mentioned any other name in the world, I could not have been more +surprised. I waited impatiently until I could pick her out from the corner of +my eye. Sure enough, it was Mrs. Sutphen and another woman. What they were +doing there I could not imagine, for neither had the look of habitues of such a +place. +</p> + +<p> +I followed Kennedy’s eye and found that he was gazing furtively at a flashily +dressed young man who was sitting alone at the far end in a sort of booth +upholstered in leather. +</p> + +<p> +The girl in white, whom I was now sure was Miss Sawtelle, went over and greeted +him. It was too far to see just what happened, but the young woman after +sitting down rose and left almost immediately. As nearly as I could make out, +she had got something from him which she had dropped into her handbag and was +now hugging the handbag close to herself almost as if it were gold. +</p> + +<p> +We sat for a few minutes debating just what to do, when Mrs. Sutphen and her +friend rose. As she passed out, a quick, covert glance told us to follow. We +did so and the two turned into Broadway. +</p> + +<p> +“Let me present you to Miss McCann,” introduced Mrs. Sutphen as we caught up +with them. “Miss McCann is a social worker and trained investigator whom I’m +employing.” +</p> + +<p> +We bowed, but before we could ask a question, Mrs. Sutphen cried excitedly: “I +think I have a clue, anyway. We’ve traced the source of the drugs at least as +far as that young fellow, ‘Whitecap,’ whom you saw in there.” +</p> + +<p> +I had not recognized his face, although I had undoubtedly seen pictures of him +before. But no sooner had I heard the name than I recognized it as that of one +of the most notorious gang leaders on the West Side. +</p> + +<p> +Not only that, but Whitecap’s gang played an important part in local politics. +There was scarcely a form of crime or vice to which Whitecap and his followers +could not turn a skilled hand, whether it was swinging an election, running a +gambling club, or dispensing “dope.” +</p> + +<p> +“You see,” she explained, “even before I saw you, my suspicions were aroused +and I determined to obtain some of the stuff they are using up here, if +possible. I realized it would be useless for me to try to get it myself, so I +got Miss McCann from the Neighborhood House to try it. She got it and has +turned the bottle over to me.” +</p> + +<p> +“May I see it?” asked Craig eagerly. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Sutphen reached hastily into her handbag, drew forth a small brown glass +bottle and handed it to him. Craig retreated into one of the less dark side +streets. There he pulled out the paraffinned cork from the bottle, picked out a +piece of cotton stuffed in the neck of the bottle and poured out some flat +tablets that showed a glistening white in the palm of his hand. For an instant +he regarded them. +</p> + +<p> +“I may keep these?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly,” replied Mrs. Sutphen. “That’s what I had Miss McCann get them +for.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy dropped the bottle into his pocket. +</p> + +<p> +“So that was the gang leader, ‘Whitecap,’” he remarked as we turned again to +Broadway. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” replied Mrs. Sutphen. “At certain hours, I believe he can be found at +that cabaret selling this stuff, whatever it is, to anyone who comes properly +introduced. The thing seems to be so open and notorious that it amounts to a +scandal.” +</p> + +<p> +We parted a moment later, Mrs. Sutphen and Miss McCann to go to the settlement +house, Craig and I to continue our investigations. +</p> + +<p> +“First of all, Walter,” he said as we swung aboard an uptown car, “I want to +stop at the laboratory.” +</p> + +<p> +In his den, which had been the scene of so many triumphs, Kennedy began a hasty +examination of the tablets, powdering one and testing it with one chemical +after another. +</p> + +<p> +“What are they?” I asked at length when he seemed to have found the right +reaction which gave him the clue. +</p> + +<p> +“Happy dust,” he answered briefly. +</p> + +<p> +“Happy dust?” I repeated, looking at him a moment in doubt as to whether he was +joking or serious. “What is that?” +</p> + +<p> +“The Tenderloin name for heroin—a comparatively new derivative of morphine. It +is really morphine treated with acetic acid which renders it more powerful than +morphine alone.” +</p> + +<p> +“How do they take them? What’s the effect?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“The person who uses heroin usually powders the tablets and snuffs the powder +up the nose,” he answered. “In a short time, perhaps only two or three weeks, +one can become a confirmed victim of ‘happy dust.’ And while one is under its +influence he is morally, physically and mentally irresponsible.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy was putting away the paraphernalia he had used, meanwhile talking about +the drug. “One of the worst aspects of it, too,” he continued, “is the desire +of the user to share his experience with some one else. This passing on of the +habit, which seems to be one of the strongest desires of the drug fiend, makes +him even more dangerous to society than he would otherwise be. It makes it +harder for anyone once addicted to a drug to shake it off, for his friends will +give him no chance. The only thing to do is to get the victim out of his +environment and into an entirely new scene.” +</p> + +<p> +The laboratory table cleared again, Kennedy had dropped into a deep study. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, why was Mrs. Sutphen there?” he asked aloud. “I can’t think it was solely +through her interest for that girl they call Snowbird. She was interested in +her, but she made no attempt to interfere or to follow her. No, there must have +been another reason.” +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t think she’s a dope fiend herself, do you?” I asked hurriedly. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy smiled. “Hardly, Walter. If she has any obsession on the subject, it is +more likely to lead her to actual fanaticism against all stimulants and +narcotics and everything connected with them. No, you might possibly persuade +me that two and two equal five—but not seventeen. It’s not very late. I think +we might make another visit to that cabaret and see whether the same thing is +going on yet.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap26"></a>CHAPTER XXVI<br/> +THE BINET TEST</h2> + +<p> +We rode downtown again and again sauntered in, this time with the theater +crowd. Our first visit had been so quiet and unostentatious that the second +attracted no attention or comment from the waiters, or anyone else. +</p> + +<p> +As we sat down we glanced over, and there in his corner still was Whitecap. +Apparently his supply of the dope was inexhaustible, for he was still +dispensing it. As we watched the tenderloin habitues come and go, I came soon +to recognize the signs by the mere look on the face—the pasty skin, the vacant +eye, the nervous quiver of the muscles as though every organ and every nerve +were crying out for more of the favorite nepenthe. Time and again I noticed the +victims as they sat at the tables, growing more and more haggard and worn, +until they could stand it no longer. Then they would retire, sometimes after a +visit across the floor to Whitecap, more often directly, for they had stocked +themselves up with the drug evidently after the first visit to him. But always +they would come back, changed in appearance, with what seemed to be a new lease +of life, but nevertheless still as recognizable as drug victims. +</p> + +<p> +It was not long, as we waited, before another woman, older than Miss Sawtelle, +but dressed in an extreme fashion, hurried into the cabaret and with scarcely a +look to right or left went directly to Whitecap’s corner. I noticed that she, +too, had the look. +</p> + +<p> +There was a surreptitious passing of a bottle in exchange for a treasury note, +and she dropped into the seat beside him. +</p> + +<p> +Before he could interfere, she had opened the bottle, crushed a tablet or two +in a napkin, and was holding it to her face as though breathing the most +exquisite perfume. With one quick inspiration of her breath after another, she +was snuffing the powder up her nose. +</p> + +<p> +Whitecap with an angry gesture pulled the napkin from her face, and one could +fancy his snarl under his breath, “Say—do you want to get me in wrong here?” +</p> + +<p> +But it was too late. Some at least of the happy dust had taken effect, at least +enough to relieve the terrible pangs she must have been suffering. +</p> + +<p> +As she rose and retired, with a hasty apology to Whitecap for her indiscretion, +Kennedy turned to me and exclaimed, “Think of it. The deadliest of all habits +is the simplest. No hypodermic; no pipe; no paraphernalia of any kind. It’s +terrible.” +</p> + +<p> +She returned to sit down and enjoy herself, careful not to obtrude herself on +Whitecap lest he might become angry at the mere sight of her and treasure his +anger up against the next time when she would need the drug. +</p> + +<p> +Already there was the most marvelous change in her. She seemed captivated by +the music, the dancing, the life which a few moments before she had totally +disregarded. +</p> + +<p> +She was seated alone, not far from us, and as she glanced about Kennedy caught +her eye. She allowed her gaze to rest on us for a moment, the signal for a mild +flirtation which ended in our exchange of tables and we found ourselves +opposite the drug fiend, who was following up the taking of the dope by a +thin-stemmed glass of a liqueur. +</p> + +<p> +I do not recall the conversation, but it was one of those inconsequential talks +that Bohemians consider so brilliant and everybody else so vapid. As we skimmed +from one subject to another, treating the big facts of life as if they were +mere incidents and the little as if they overshadowed all else, I could see +that Craig, who had a faculty of probing into the very soul of anyone, when he +chose, was gradually leading around to a subject which I knew he wanted, above +all others, to discuss. +</p> + +<p> +It was not long before, as the most natural remark in the world following +something he had made her say, just as a clever prestidigitator forces a card, +he asked, “What was it I saw you snuffing over in the booth—happy dust?” +</p> + +<p> +She did not even take the trouble to deny it, but nodded a brazen “Yes.” “How +did you come to use it first?” he asked, careful not to give offense in either +tone or manner. +</p> + +<p> +“The usual way, I suppose,” she replied with a laugh that sounded harsh and +grating. “I was ill and I found out what it was the doctor was giving me.” +</p> + +<p> +“And then?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I thought I would use it only as long as it served my purpose and, when +that was over, give it up.” +</p> + +<p> +“But—?” prompted Craig hypnotically. +</p> + +<p> +“Instead, I was soon using six, eight, ten tablets of heroin a day. I found +that I needed that amount in order to live. Then it went up by leaps to twenty, +thirty, forty.” +</p> + +<p> +“Suppose you couldn’t get it, what then?” +</p> + +<p> +“Couldn’t get it?” she repeated with an unspeakable horror. “Once I thought I’d +try to stop. But my heart skipped beats; then it seemed to pound away, as if +trying to break through my ribs. I don’t think heroin is like other drugs. When +one has her ‘coke’—that’s cocaine—taken away, she feels like a rag. Fill her up +and she can do anything again. But, heroin—I think one might murder to get it!” +</p> + +<p> +The expression on the woman’s face was almost tragic. I verily believe that she +meant it. +</p> + +<p> +“Why,” she cried, “if anyone had told me a year ago that the time would ever +come when I would value some tiny white tablets above anything else in the +world, yes, and even above my immortal soul, I would have thought him a +lunatic.” +</p> + +<p> +It was getting late, and as the woman showed no disposition to leave, Kennedy +and I excused ourselves. +</p> + +<p> +Outside Craig looked at me keenly. “Can you guess who that was?” +</p> + +<p> +“Although she didn’t tell us her name,” I replied, “I am morally certain that +it was Mrs. Garrett.” +</p> + +<p> +“Precisely,” he answered, “and what a shame, too, for she must evidently once +have been a woman of great education and refinement.” +</p> + +<p> +He shook his head sadly. “Walter, there isn’t likely to be anything that we can +do for some hours now. I have a little experiment I’d like to make. Suppose you +publish for me a story in the <i>Star</i> about the campaign against drugs. +Tell about what we have seen to-night, mention the cabaret by indirection and +Whitecap directly. Then we can sit back and see what happens. We’ve got to +throw a scare into them somehow, if we are going to smoke out anyone higher up +than Whitecap. But you’ll have to be careful, for if they suspect us our +usefulness in the case will be over.” +</p> + +<p> +Together, Kennedy and I worked over our story far into the night down at the +<i>Star</i> office, and the following day waited to see whether anything came +of it. +</p> + +<p> +It was with a great deal of interest tempered by fear that we dropped into the +cabaret the following evening. Fortunately no one suspected us. In fact, having +been there the night before, we had established ourselves, as it were, and were +welcomed as old patrons and good spenders. +</p> + +<p> +I noticed, however, that Whitecap was not there. The story had been read by +such of the dope fiends as had not fallen too far to keep abreast of the times +and these and the waiters were busy quietly warning off a line of haggard-eyed, +disappointed patrons who came around, as usual. +</p> + +<p> +Some of them were so obviously dependent on Whitecap that I almost regretted +having written the story, for they must have been suffering the tortures of the +damned. +</p> + +<p> +It was in the midst of a reverie of this sort that a low exclamation from +Kennedy recalled my attention. There was Snowbird with a man considerably older +than herself. They had just come in and were looking about frantically for +Whitecap. But Whitecap had been too frightened by the story in the <i>Star</i> +to sell any more of the magic happy dust openly in the cabaret, at least. +</p> + +<p> +The pair, nerve-racked and exhausted, sat down mournfully in a seat near us, +and as they talked earnestly in low tones we had an excellent opportunity for +studying Armstrong for the first time. +</p> + +<p> +He was not a bad-looking man, or even a weak one. In back of the dissipation of +the drugs one fancied he could read the story of a brilliant life wrecked. But +there was little left to admire or respect. As the couple talked earnestly, the +one so old, the other so young in vice, I had to keep a tight rein on myself to +prevent my sympathy for the wretched girl getting the better of common sense +and kicking the older man out of doors. +</p> + +<p> +Finally Armstrong rose to go, with a final imploring glance from the girl. +Obviously she had persuaded him to forage about to secure the heroin, by hook +or crook, now that the accustomed source of supply was cut off so suddenly. +</p> + +<p> +It was also really our first chance to study the girl carefully under the +light, for her entrance and exit the night before had been so hurried that we +had seen comparatively little of her. Craig was watching her narrowly. Not only +were the effects of the drug plainly evident on her face, but it was apparent +that the snuffing the powdered tablets was destroying the bones in her nose, +through shrinkage of the blood vessels, as well as undermining the nervous +system and causing the brain to totter. +</p> + +<p> +I was wondering whether Armstrong knew of any depot for the secret distribution +of the drug. I could not believe that Whitecap was either the chief distributer +or the financial head of the illegal traffic. I wondered who indeed was the man +higher up. Was he an importer of the drug, or was he the representative of some +chemical company not averse to making an illegal dollar now and then by +dragging down his fellow man? +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy and I were trying to act as if we were enjoying the cabaret show and +not too much interested in the little drama that was being acted before us. I +think little Miss Sawtelle noticed, however, that we were looking often her +way. I was amazed, too, on studying her more closely to find that there was +something indefinably queer about her, aside from the marked effect of the +drugs she had been taking. What it was I was at a loss to determine, but I felt +sure from the expression on Kennedy’s face that he had noticed it also. +</p> + +<p> +I was on the point of asking him if he, too, observed anything queer in the +girl, when Armstrong hurried in and handed her a small package, then almost +without a word stalked out again, evidently as much to Snowbird’s surprise as +to our own. +</p> + +<p> +She had literally seized the package, as though she were drowning and grasping +at a life buoy. Even the surprise at his hasty departure could not prevent her, +however, from literally tearing the wrapper off, and in the sheltering shadow +of the table cloth pouring forth the little white pellets in her lap, counting +them as a miser counts his gold, +</p> + +<p> +“The old thief!” she exclaimed aloud. “He’s held out twenty-five!” +</p> + +<p> +I don’t know which it was that amazed me most, the almost childish petulance +and ungovernable temper of the girl which made her cry out in spite of her +surroundings and the circumstances, or the petty rapacity of the man who could +stoop to such a low level as to rob her in this seeming underhand manner. +</p> + +<p> +There was no time for useless repining now. The call of outraged nature for its +daily and hourly quota of poison was too imperative. She dumped the pellets +back into the bottle hastily, and disappeared. +</p> + +<p> +When she came back, it was with that expression I had come to know so well. At +least for a few hours there was a respite for her from the terrific pangs she +had been suffering. She was almost happy, smiling. Even that false happiness, I +felt, was superior to Armstrong’s moral sense blunted by drugs. I had begun to +realize how lying, stealing, crimes of all sorts might be laid at the door of +this great evil. +</p> + +<p> +In her haste to get where she could snuff the heroin she had forgotten a light +wrap lying on her chair. As she returned for it, it fell to the floor. +Instantly Kennedy was on his feet, bending over to pick it up. +</p> + +<p> +She thanked him, and the smile lingered a moment on her face. It was enough. It +gave Kennedy the chance to pursue a conversation, and in the free and easy +atmosphere of the cabaret to invite her to sit over at our table. +</p> + +<p> +At least all her nervousness was gone and she chatted vivaciously. Kennedy said +little. He was too busy watching her. It was quite the opposite of the case of +Mrs. Garrett. Yet I was at a loss to define what it was that I sensed. +</p> + +<p> +Still the minutes sped past and we seemed to be getting on famously. Unlike his +action in the case of the older woman where he had been sounding the depths of +her heart and mind, in this case his idea seemed to be to allow the childish +prattle to come out and perhaps explain itself. +</p> + +<p> +However, at the end of half an hour when we seemed to be getting no further +along, Kennedy did not protest at her desire to leave us, “to keep a date,” as +she expressed it. +</p> + +<p> +“Waiter, the check, please,” ordered Kennedy leisurely. +</p> + +<p> +When he received it, he seemed to be in no great hurry to pay it, but went over +one item after another, then added up the footing again. +</p> + +<p> +“Strange how some of these waiters grow rich?” Craig remarked finally with a +gay smile. +</p> + +<p> +The idea of waiters and money quickly brought some petty reminiscences to her +mind. While she was still talking, Craig casually pulled a pencil out of his +pocket and scribbled some figures on the back of the waiter’s check. +</p> + +<p> +From where I was sitting beside him, I could see that he had written some +figures similar to the following: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +5183<br/> +47395<br/> +654726<br/> +2964375<br/> +47293815<br/> +924738651<br/> +2146073859 +</p> + +<p> +“Here’s a stunt,” he remarked, breaking into the conversation at a convenient +point. “Can you repeat these numbers after me?” +</p> + +<p> +Without waiting for her to make excuse, he said quickly “5183.” “5183,” she +repeated mechanically. +</p> + +<p> +“47395,” came in rapid succession, to which she replied, perhaps a little +slower than before, +</p> + +<p> +“47395.” +</p> + +<p> +“Now, 654726,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“654726,” she repeated, I thought with some hesitation. +</p> + +<p> +“Again, 2964375,” he shot out. +</p> + +<p> +“269,” she hesitated, “73—” she stopped. +</p> + +<p> +It was evident that she had reached the limit. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy smiled, paid the check and we parted at the door. +</p> + +<p> +“What was all that rigmarole?” I inquired as the white figure disappeared down +the street. +</p> + +<p> +“Part of the Binet test, seeing how many digits one can remember. An adult +ought to remember from eight to ten, in any order. But she has the mentality of +a child. That is the queer thing about her. Chronologically she may be eighteen +years or so old. Mentally she is scarcely more than eight. Mrs. Sutphen was +right. They have made a fiend out of a mere child—a defective who never had a +chance against them.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap27"></a>CHAPTER XXVII<br/> +THE LIE DETECTOR</h2> + +<p> +As the horror of it all dawned on me, I hated Armstrong worse than ever, hated +Whitecap, hated the man higher up, whoever he might be, who was enriching +himself out of the defective, as well as the weakling, and the vicious—all +three typified by Snowbird, Armstrong and Whitecap. +</p> + +<p> +Having no other place to go, pending further developments of the publicity we +had given the drug war in the <i>Star</i>, Kennedy and I decided on a walk home +in the bracing night air. +</p> + +<p> +We had scarcely entered the apartment when the hall boy called to us +frantically: “Some one’s been trying to get you all over town, Professor +Kennedy. Here’s the message. I wrote it down. An attempt has been made to +poison Mrs. Sutphen. They said at the other end of the line that you’d know.” +</p> + +<p> +We faced each other aghast. +</p> + +<p> +“My God!” exclaimed Kennedy. “Has that been the effect of our story, Walter? +Instead of smoking out anyone—we’ve almost killed some one.” +</p> + +<p> +As fast as a cab could whisk us around to Mrs. Sutphen’s we hurried. +</p> + +<p> +“I warned her that if she mixed up in any such fight as this she might expect +almost anything,” remarked Mr. Sutphen nervously, as he met us in the reception +room. “She’s all right, now, I guess, but if it hadn’t been for the prompt work +of the ambulance surgeon I sent for, Dr. Coleman says she would have died in +fifteen minutes.” +</p> + +<p> +“How did it happen?” asked Craig. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, she usually drinks a glass of vichy and milk before retiring,” replied +Mr. Sutphen. “We don’t know yet whether it was the vichy or the milk that was +poisoned, but Dr. Coleman thinks it was chloral in one or the other, and so did +the ambulance surgeon. I tell you I was scared. I tried to get Coleman, but he +was out on a case, and I happened to think of the hospitals as probably the +quickest. Dr. Coleman came in just as the young surgeon was bringing her +around. He—oh, here he is now.” +</p> + +<p> +The famous doctor was just coming downstairs. He saw us, but, I suppose, +inasmuch as we did not belong to the Sutphen and Coleman set, ignored us. “Mrs. +Sutphen will be all right now,” he said reassuringly as he drew on his gloves. +“The nurse has arrived, and I have given her instructions what to do. And, by +the way, my dear Sutphen, I should advise you to deal firmly with her in that +matter about which her name is appearing in the papers. Women nowadays don’t +seem to realize the dangers they run in mixing in in all these reforms. I have +ordered an analysis of both the milk and vichy, but that will do little good +unless we can find out who poisoned it. And there are so many chances for +things like that, life is so complex nowadays—” +</p> + +<p> +He passed out with scarcely a nod at us. Kennedy did not attempt to question +him. He was thinking rapidly. +</p> + +<p> +“Walter, we have no time to lose,” he exclaimed, seizing a telephone that stood +on a stand near by. “This is the time for action. Hello—Police Headquarters, +First Deputy O’Connor, please.” +</p> + +<p> +As Kennedy waited I tried to figure out how it could have happened. I wondered +whether it might not have been Mrs. Garrett. Would she stop at anything if she +feared the loss of her favorite drug? But then there were so many others and so +many ways of “getting” anybody who interfered with the drug traffic that it +seemed impossible to figure it out by pure deduction. +</p> + +<p> +“Hello, O’Connor,” I heard Kennedy say; “you read that story in the <i>Star</i> +this morning about the drug fiends at that Broadway cabaret? Yes? Well, Jameson +and I wrote it. It’s part of the drug war that Mrs. Sutphen has been waging. +O’Connor, she’s been poisoned—oh, no—she’s all right now. But I want you to +send out and arrest Whitecap and that fellow Armstrong immediately. I’m going +to put them through a scientific third degree up in the laboratory to-night. +Thank you. No—no matter how late it is, bring them up.” +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Coleman had gone long since, Mr. Sutphen had absolutely no interest further +than the recovery of Mrs. Sutphen just now, and Mrs. Sutphen was resting +quietly and could not be seen. Accordingly Kennedy and I hastened up to the +laboratory to wait until O’Connor could “deliver the goods.” +</p> + +<p> +It was not long before one of O’Connor’s men came in with Whitecap. +</p> + +<p> +“While we’re waiting,” said Craig, “I wish you would just try this little +cut-out puzzle.” +</p> + +<p> +I don’t know what Whitecap thought, but I know I looked at Craig’s invitation +to “play blocks” as a joke scarcely higher in order than the number repetition +of Snowbird. Whitecap did it, however, sullenly, and under compulsion, in, I +should say about two minutes. +</p> + +<p> +“I have Armstrong here myself,” called out the voice of our old friend +O’Connor, as he burst into the room. +</p> + +<p> +“Good!” exclaimed Kennedy. “I shall be ready for him in just a second. Have +Whitecap held here in the anteroom while you bring Armstrong into the +laboratory. By the way, Walter, that was another of the Binet tests, putting a +man at solving puzzles. It involves reflective judgment, one of the factors in +executive ability. If Whitecap had been defective, it would have taken him five +minutes to do that puzzle, if at all. So you see he is not in the class with +Miss Sawtelle. The test shows him to be shrewd. He doesn’t even touch his own +dope. Now for Armstrong.” +</p> + +<p> +I knew enough of the underworld to set Whitecap down, however, as a +“lobbygow”—an agent for some one higher up, recruiting both the gangs and the +ranks of street women. +</p> + +<p> +Before us, as O’Connor led in Armstrong, was a little machine with a big black +cylinder. By means of wires and electrodes Kennedy attached it to Armstrong’s +chest. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, Armstrong,” he began in an even tone, “I want you to tell the truth—the +whole truth. You have been getting heroin tablets from Whitecap.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir,” replied the dope fiend defiantly. +</p> + +<p> +“To-day you had to get them elsewhere.” +</p> + +<p> +No answer. +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind,” persisted Kennedy, still calm, “I know. Why, Armstrong, you even +robbed that girl of twenty-five tablets.” +</p> + +<p> +“I did not,” shot out the answer. +</p> + +<p> +“There were twenty-five short,” accused Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +The two faced each other. Craig repeated his remark. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” replied Armstrong, “I held out the tablets, but it was not for myself, I +can get all I want. I did it because I didn’t want her to get above +seventy-five a day. I have tried every way to break her of the habit that has +got me—and failed. But seventy-five—is the limit!” +</p> + +<p> +“A pretty story!” exclaimed O’Connor. +</p> + +<p> +Craig laid his hand on his arm to check him, as he examined a record registered +on the cylinder of the machine. +</p> + +<p> +“By the way, Armstrong, I want you to write me out a note that I can use to get +a hundred heroin tablets. You can write it all but the name of the place where +I can get them.” +</p> + +<p> +Armstrong was on the point of demurring, but the last sentence reassured him. +He would reveal nothing by it—yet. +</p> + +<p> +Still the man was trembling like a leaf. He wrote: +</p> + +<p> +“Give Whitecap one hundred shocks—A Victim.” +</p> + +<p> +For a moment Kennedy studied the note carefully. “Oh—er—I forgot, Armstrong, +but a few days ago an anonymous letter was sent to Mrs. Sutphen, signed ‘A +Friend.’ Do you know anything about it?” +</p> + +<p> +“A note?” the man repeated. “Mrs. Sutphen? I don’t know anything about any +note, or Mrs. Sutphen either.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy was still studying his record. “This,” he remarked slowly, “is what I +call my psychophysical test for falsehood. Lying, when it is practiced by an +expert, is not easily detected by the most careful scrutiny of the liar’s +appearance and manner. +</p> + +<p> +“However, successful means have been developed for the detection of falsehood +by the study of experimental psychology. Walter, I think you will recall the +test I used once, the psychophysical factor of the character and rapidity of +the mental process known as the association of ideas?” +</p> + +<p> +I nodded acquiescence. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” he resumed, “in criminal jurisprudence, I find an even more simple and +more subjective test which has been recently devised. Professor Stoerring of +Bonn has found out that feelings of pleasure and pain produce well-defined +changes in respiration. Similar effects are produced by lying, according to the +famous Professor Benussi of Graz. +</p> + +<p> +“These effects are unerring, unequivocal. The utterance of a false statement +increases respiration; of a true statement decreases. The importance and scope +of these discoveries are obvious.” +</p> + +<p> +Craig was figuring rapidly on a piece of paper. “This is a certain and +objective criterion,” he continued as he figured, “between truth and falsehood. +Even when a clever liar endeavors to escape detection by breathing irregularly, +it is likely to fail, for Benussi has investigated and found that voluntary +changes in respiration don’t alter the result. You see, the quotient obtained +by dividing the time of inspiration by the time of expiration gives me the +result.” +</p> + +<p> +He looked up suddenly. “Armstrong, you are telling the truth about some +things—downright lies about others. You are a drug fiend—but I will be lenient +with you, for one reason. Contrary to everything that I would have expected, +you are really trying to save that poor half-witted girl whom you love from the +terrible habit that has gripped you. That is why you held out the quarter of +the one hundred tablets. That is why you wrote the note to Mrs. Sutphen, hoping +that she might be treated in some institution.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy paused as a look of incredulity passed over Armstrong’s face. +</p> + +<p> +“Another thing you said was true,” added Kennedy. “You can get all the heroin +you want. Armstrong, you will put the address of that place on the outside of +the note, or both you and Whitecap go to jail. Snowbird will be left to her own +devices—she can get all the ‘snow,’ as some of you fiends call it, that she +wants from those who might exploit her.” +</p> + +<p> +“Please, Mr. Kennedy,” pleaded Armstrong. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” interrupted Craig, before the drug fiend could finish. “That is final. I +must have the name of that place.” +</p> + +<p> +In a shaky hand Armstrong wrote again. Hastily Craig stuffed the note into his +pocket, and ten minutes later we were mounting the steps of a big brownstone +house on a fashionable side street just around the corner from Fifth Avenue. +</p> + +<p> +As the door was opened by an obsequious colored servant, Craig handed him the +scrap of paper signed by the password, “A Victim.” +</p> + +<p> +Imitating the cough of a confirmed dope user, Craig was led into a large +waiting room. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re in pretty bad shape, sah,” commented the servant. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy nudged me and, taking the cue, I coughed myself red in the face. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he said. “Hurry—please.” +</p> + +<p> +The servant knocked at a door, and as it was opened we caught a glimpse of Mrs. +Garrett in negligee. +</p> + +<p> +“What is it, Sam?” she asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Two gentlemen for some heroin tablets, ma’am.” +</p> + +<p> +“Tell them to go to the chemical works—not to my office, Sam,” growled a man’s +voice inside. +</p> + +<p> +With a quick motion, Kennedy had Mrs. Garrett by the wrist. +</p> + +<p> +“I knew it,” he ground out. “It was all a fake about how you got the habit. You +wanted to get it, so you could get and hold him. And neither one of you would +stop at anything, not even the murder of your sister, to prevent the ruin of +the devilish business you have built up in manufacturing and marketing the +stuff.” +</p> + +<p> +He pulled the note from the hand of the surprised negro. “I had the right +address, the place where you sell hundreds of ounces of the stuff a week—but I +preferred to come to the doctor’s office where I could find you both.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy had firmly twisted her wrist until, with a little scream of pain, she +let go the door handle. Then he gently pushed her aside, and the next instant +Craig had his hand inside the collar of Dr. Coleman, society physician, +proprietor of the Coleman Chemical Works downtown, the real leader of the drug +gang that was debauching whole sections of the metropolis. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap28"></a>CHAPTER XXVIII<br/> +THE FAMILY SKELETON</h2> + +<p> +Surprised though we were at the unmasking of Dr. Coleman, there was nothing to +do but to follow the thing out. In such cases we usually ran into the greatest +difficulty—organized vice. This was no exception. +</p> + +<p> +Even when cases involved only a clever individual or a prominent family, it was +the same. I recall, for example, the case of a well-known family in a New York +suburb, which was particularly difficult. It began in a rather unusual manner, +too. +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Kennedy—I am ruined—ruined.” +</p> + +<p> +It was early one morning that the telephone rang and I answered it. A very +excited German, breathless and incoherent, was evidently at the other end of +the wire. +</p> + +<p> +I handed the receiver to Craig and picked up the morning paper lying on the +table. +</p> + +<p> +“Minturn—dead?” I heard Craig exclaim. “In the paper this morning? I’ll be down +to see you directly.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy almost tore the paper from me. In the next to the end column where late +news usually is dropped was a brief account of the sudden death of Owen +Minturn, one of the foremost criminal lawyers of the city, in Josephson’s Baths +downtown. +</p> + +<p> +It ended: “It is believed by the coroner that Mr. Minturn was shocked to death +and evidence is being sought to show that two hundred and forty volts of +electricity had been thrown into the attorney’s body while he was in the +electric bath. Joseph Josephson, the proprietor of the bath, who operated the +switchboard, is being held, pending the completion of the inquiry.” +</p> + +<p> +As Kennedy hastily ran his eye over the paragraphs, he became more and more +excited himself. +</p> + +<p> +“Walter,” he cried, as he finished, “I don’t believe that that was an accident +at all.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +He already had his hat on, and I knew he was going to Josephson’s +breakfastless. I followed reluctantly. +</p> + +<p> +“Because,” he answered, as we hustled along in the early morning crowd, “it was +only yesterday afternoon that I saw Minturn at his office and he made an +appointment with me for this very morning. He was a very secretive man, but he +did tell me this much, that he feared his life was in danger and that it was in +some way connected with that Pearcy case up in Stratfield, Connecticut, where +he has an estate. You have read of the case?” +</p> + +<p> +Indeed I had. It had seemed to me to be a particularly inexplicable affair. +Apparently a whole family had been poisoned and a few days before old Mr. +Randall Pearcy, a retired manufacturer, had died after a brief but mysterious +illness. +</p> + +<p> +Pearcy had been married a year or so ago to Annette Oakleigh, a Broadway comic +opera singer, who was his second wife. By his first marriage he had had two +children, a son, Warner, and a daughter, Isabel. +</p> + +<p> +Warner Pearcy, I had heard, had blazed a vermilion trail along the Great White +Way, but his sister was of the opposite temperament, interested in social work, +and had attracted much attention by organizing a settlement in the slums of +Stratfield for the uplift of the workers in the Pearcy and other mills. +</p> + +<p> +Broadway, as well as Stratfield, had already woven a fantastic background, for +the mystery and hints had been broadly made that Annette Oakleigh had been +indiscreetly intimate with a young physician in the town, a Dr. Gunther, a +friend, by the way, of Minturn. “There has been no trial yet,” went on Kennedy, +“but Minturn seems to have appeared before the coroner’s jury at Stratfield and +to have asserted the innocence of Mrs. Pearcy and that of Dr. Gunther so well +that, although the jury brought in a verdict of murder by poison by some one +unknown, there has been no mention of the name of anyone else. The coroner +simply adjourned the inquest so that a more careful analysis might be made of +the vital organs. And now comes this second tragedy in New York.” +</p> + +<p> +“What was the poison?” I asked. “Have they found out yet?” +</p> + +<p> +“They are pretty sure, so Minturn told me, that it was lead poisoning. The fact +not generally known is,” he added in a lower tone, “that the cases were not +confined to the Pearcy house. They had even extended to Minturn’s too, although +about that he said little yesterday. The estates up there adjoin, you know.” +</p> + +<p> +Owen Minturn, I recalled, had gained a formidable reputation by his successful +handling of cases from the lowest strata of society to the highest. Indeed it +was a byword that his appearance in court indicated two things—the guilt of the +accused and a verdict of acquittal. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course,” Craig pursued as we were jolted from station to station downtown, +“you know they say that Minturn never kept a record of a case. But written +records were as nothing compared to what that man must have carried only in his +head.” +</p> + +<p> +It was a common saying that, if Minturn should tell all he knew, he might hang +half a dozen prominent men in society. That was not strictly true, perhaps, but +it was certain that a revelation of the things confided to him by clients which +were never put down on paper would have caused a series of explosions that +would have wrecked at least some portions of the social and financial world. He +had heard much and told little, for he had been a sort of “father confessor.” +</p> + +<p> +Had Minturn, I wondered, known the name of the real criminal? +</p> + +<p> +Josephson’s was a popular bath on Forty-second Street, where many of the +“sun-dodgers” were accustomed to recuperate during the day from their arduous +pursuit of pleasure at night and prepare for the resumption of their toil +during the coming night. It was more than that, however, for it had a +reputation for being conducted really on a high plane. +</p> + +<p> +We met Josephson downstairs. He had been released under bail, though the place +was temporarily closed and watched over by the agents of the coroner and the +police. Josephson appeared to be a man of some education and quite different +from what I had imagined from hearing him over the telephone. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Mr. Kennedy,” he exclaimed, “who now will come to my baths? Last night +they were crowded, but to-day—” +</p> + +<p> +He ended with an expressive gesture of his hands. +</p> + +<p> +“One customer I have surely lost, young Mr. Pearcy,” he went on. +</p> + +<p> +“Warner Pearcy?” asked Craig. “Was he here last night?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nearly every night,” replied Josephson, now glib enough as his first +excitement subsided and his command of English returned. “He was a neighbor of +Mr. Minturn’s, I hear. Oh, what luck!” growled Josephson as the name recalled +him to his present troubles. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” remarked Kennedy with an attempt at reassurance as if to gain the +masseur’s confidence, “I know as well as you that it is often amazing what a +tremendous shock a man may receive and yet not be killed, and no less amazing +how small a shock may kill. It all depends on circumstances.” +</p> + +<p> +Josephson shot a covert look at Kennedy. “Yes,” he reiterated, “but I cannot +see how it <i>could</i> be. If the lights had become short-circuited with the +bath, that might have thrown a current into the bath. But they were not. I know +it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Still,” pursued Kennedy, watching him keenly, “it is not all a question of +current. To kill, the shock must pass through a vital organ—the brain, the +heart, the upper spinal cord. So, a small shock may kill and a large one may +not. If it passes in one foot and out by the other, the current isn’t likely to +be as dangerous as if it passes in by a hand or foot and then out by a foot or +hand. In one case it passes through no vital organ; in the other it is very +likely to do so. You see, the current can flow through the body only when it +has a place of entrance and a place of exit. In all cases of accident from +electric light wires, the victim is touching some conductor—damp earth, salty +earth, water, something that gives the current an outlet and—” +</p> + +<p> +“But even if the lights had been short-circuited,” interrupted Josephson, “Mr. +Minturn would have escaped injury unless he had touched the taps of the bath. +Oh, no, sir, accidents in the medical use of electricity are rare. They don’t +happen here in my establishment,” he maintained stoutly. “The trouble was that +the coroner, without any knowledge of the physiological effects of electricity +on the body, simply jumped at once to the conclusion that it was the electric +bath that did it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then it was for medical treatment that Mr. Minturn was taking the bath?” asked +Kennedy, quickly taking up the point. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, of course,” answered the masseur, eager to explain. “You are acquainted +with the latest treatment for lead poisoning by means of the electric bath?” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy nodded. “I know that Sir Thomas Oliver, the English authority who has +written much on dangerous trades, has tried it with marked success.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, sir, that was why Mr. Minturn was here. He came here introduced by a Dr. +Gunther of Stratfield.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed?” remarked Kennedy colorlessly, though I could see that it interested +him, for evidently Minturn had said nothing of being himself a sufferer from +the poison. “May I see the bath?” +</p> + +<p> +“Surely,” said Josephson, leading the way upstairs. +</p> + +<p> +It was an oaken tub with metal rods on the two long sides, from which depended +prismatic carbon rods. Kennedy examined it closely. +</p> + +<p> +“This is what we call a hydro-electric bath,” Josephson explained. “Those rods +on the sides are the electrodes. You see there are no metal parts in the tub +itself. The rods are attached by wiring to a wall switch out here.” +</p> + +<p> +He pointed to the next room. Kennedy examined the switch with care. +</p> + +<p> +“From it,” went on Josephson, “wires lead to an accumulator battery of perhaps +thirty volts. It uses very little current. Dr. Gunther tested it and found it +all right.” +</p> + +<p> +Craig leaned over the bath, and from the carbon electrodes scraped off a white +powder in minute crystals. +</p> + +<p> +“Ordinarily,” Josephson pursued, “lead is eliminated by the skin and kidneys. +But now, as you know, it is being helped along by electrolysis. I talked to Dr. +Gunther about it. It is his opinion that it is probably eliminated as a +chloride from the tissues of the body to the electrodes in the bath in which +the patient is wholly or partly immersed. On the positive electrodes we get the +peroxide. On the negative there is a spongy metallic form of lead. But it is +only a small amount.” +</p> + +<p> +“The body has been removed?” asked Craig. +</p> + +<p> +“Not yet,” the masseur replied. “The coroner has ordered it kept here under +guard until he makes up his mind what disposition to have made of it.” +</p> + +<p> +We were next ushered into a little room on the same floor, at the door of which +was posted an official from the coroner. +</p> + +<p> +“First of all,” remarked Craig, as he drew back the sheet and began, a minute +examination of the earthly remains of the great lawyer, “there are to be +considered the safeguards of the human body against the passage through it of a +fatal electric current—the high electric resistance of the body itself. It is +particularly high when the current must pass through joints such as wrists, +knees, elbows, and quite high when the bones of the head are concerned. Still, +there might have been an incautious application of the current to the head, +especially when the subject is a person of advanced age or latent cerebral +disease, though I don’t know that that fits Mr. Minturn. That’s strange,” he +muttered, looking up, puzzled. “I can find no mark of a burn on the +body—absolutely no mark of anything.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s what I say,” put in Josephson, much pleased by what Kennedy said, for +he had been waiting anxiously to see what Craig discovered on his own +examination. “It’s impossible.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s all the more remarkable,” went on Craig, half to himself and ignoring +Josephson, “because burns due to electric currents are totally unlike those +produced in other ways. They occur at the point of contact, usually about the +arms and hands, or the head. Electricity is much to be feared when it involves +the cranial cavity.” He completed his examination of the head which once had +carried secrets which themselves must have been incandescent. +</p> + +<p> +“Then, too, such burns are most often something more than superficial, for +considerable heat is developed which leads to massive destruction and +carbonization of the tissues to a considerable depth. I have seen actual losses +of substance—a lump of killed flesh surrounded by healthy tissues. Besides, +such burns show an unexpected indolence when compared to the violent pains of +ordinary burns. Perhaps that is due to the destruction of the nerve endings. +How did Minturn die? Was he alone? Was he dead when he was discovered?” +</p> + +<p> +“He was alone,” replied Josephson, slowly endeavoring to tell it exactly as he +had seen it, “but that’s the strange part of it. He seemed to be suffering from +a convulsion. I think he complained at first of a feeling of tightness of his +throat and a twitching of the muscles of his hands and feet. Anyhow, he called +for help. I was up here and we rushed in. Dr. Gunther had just brought him and +then had gone away, after introducing him, and showing him the bath.” +</p> + +<p> +Josephson proceeded slowly, evidently having been warned that anything he said +might be used against him. “We carried him, when he was this way, into this +very room. But it was only for a short time. Then came a violent convulsion. It +seemed to extend rapidly all over his body. His legs were rigid, his feet bent, +his head back. Why, he was resting only on his heels and the back of his head. +You see, Mr. Kennedy, that simply could not be the electric shock.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hardly,” commented Kennedy, looking again at the body. “It looks more like a +tetanus convulsion. Yet there does not seem to be any trace of a recent wound +that might have caused lockjaw. How did he look?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, his face finally became livid,” replied Josephson. “He had a ghastly, +grinning expression, his eyes were wide, there was foam on his mouth, and his +breathing was difficult.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not like tetanus, either,” revised Craig. “There the convulsion usually begins +with the face and progresses to the other muscles. Here it seems to have gone +the other way.” +</p> + +<p> +“That lasted a minute or so,” resumed the masseur. “Then he sank back—perfectly +limp. I thought he was dead. But he was not. A cold sweat broke out all over +him and he was as if in a deep sleep.” +</p> + +<p> +“What did you do?” prompted Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t know what to do. I called an ambulance. But the moment the door +opened, his body seemed to stiffen again. He had one other convulsion—and when +he grew limp he was dead.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap29"></a>CHAPTER XXIX<br/> +THE LEAD POISONER</h2> + +<p> +It was a gruesome recital and I was glad to leave the baths finally with +Kennedy. Josephson was quite evidently relieved at the attitude Craig had taken +toward the coroner’s conclusion that Minturn had been shocked to death. As far +as I could see, however, it added to rather than cleared up the mystery. +</p> + +<p> +Craig went directly uptown to his laboratory, in contrast with our journey +down, in abstracted silence, which was his manner when he was trying to reason +out some particularly knotty problem. +</p> + +<p> +As Kennedy placed the white crystals which he had scraped off the electrodes of +the tub on a piece of dark paper in the laboratory, he wet the tip of his +finger and touched just the minutest grain to his tongue. +</p> + +<p> +The look on his face told me that something unexpected had happened. He held a +similar minute speck of the powder out to me. +</p> + +<p> +It was an intensely bitter taste and very persistent, for even after we had +rinsed out our mouths it seemed to remain, clinging persistently to the tongue. +</p> + +<p> +He placed some of the grains in some pure water. They dissolved only slightly, +if at all. But in a tube in which he mixed a little ether and chloroform they +dissolved fairly readily. +</p> + +<p> +Next, without a word, he poured just a drop of strong sulphuric acid on the +crystals. There was not a change in them. +</p> + +<p> +Quickly he reached up into the rack and took down a bottle labeled “Potassium +Bichromate.” +</p> + +<p> +“Let us see what an oxidizing agent will do,” he remarked. +</p> + +<p> +As he gently added the bichromate, there came a most marvelous, kaleidoscopic +change. From being almost colorless, the crystals turned instantly to a deep +blue, then rapidly to purple, lilac, red, and then the red slowly faded away +and they became colorless again. +</p> + +<p> +“What is it?” I asked, fascinated. “Lead?” +</p> + +<p> +“N-no,” he replied, the lines of his forehead deepening. “No. This is sulphate +of strychnine.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sulphate of strychnine?” I repeated in astonishment. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he reiterated slowly. “I might have suspected that from the convulsions, +particularly when Josephson said that the noise and excitement of the arrival +of the ambulance brought on the fatal paroxysm. That is symptomatic. But I +didn’t fully realize it until I got up here and tasted the stuff. Then I +suspected, for that taste is characteristic. Even one part diluted seventy +thousand times gives that decided bitter taste.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s all very well,” I remarked, recalling the intense bitterness yet on my +tongue. “But how do you suppose it was possible for anyone to administer it? It +seems to me that he would have said something, if he had swallowed even the +minutest part of it. He must have known it. Yet apparently he didn’t. At least +he said nothing about it—or else Josephson is concealing something.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did he swallow it—necessarily?” queried Kennedy, in a tone calculated to show +me that the chemical world, at least, was full of a number of things, and there +was much to learn. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I suppose if it had been given hypodermically, it would have a more +violent effect,” I persisted, trying to figure out a way that the poison might +have been given. +</p> + +<p> +“Even more unlikely,” objected Craig, with a delight at discovering a new +mystery that to me seemed almost fiendish. “No, he would certainly have felt a +needle, have cried out and said something about it, if anyone had tried that. +This poisoned needle business isn’t as easy as some people seem to think +nowadays.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then he might have absorbed it from the water,” I insisted, recalling a recent +case of Kennedy’s and adding, “by osmosis.” +</p> + +<p> +“You saw how difficult it was to dissolve in water,” Craig rejected quietly. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, then,” I concluded in desperation. “How could it have been introduced?” +</p> + +<p> +“I have a theory,” was all he would say, reaching for the railway guide, “but +it will take me up to Stratfield to prove it.” +</p> + +<p> +His plan gave us a little respite and we paused long enough to lunch, for which +breathing space I was duly thankful. The forenoon saw us on the train, Kennedy +carrying a large and cumbersome package which he brought down with him from the +laboratory and which we took turns in carrying, though he gave no hint of its +contents. +</p> + +<p> +We arrived in Stratfield, a very pretty little mill town, in the middle of the +afternoon, and with very little trouble were directed to the Pearcy house, +after Kennedy had checked the parcel with the station agent. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Pearcy, to whom we introduced ourselves as reporters of the <i>Star</i>, +was a tall blonde. I could not help thinking that she made a particularly +dashing widow. With her at the time was Isabel Pearcy, a slender girl whose +sensitive lips and large, earnest eyes indicated a fine, high-strung nature. +</p> + +<p> +Even before we had introduced ourselves, I could not help thinking that there +was a sort of hostility between the women. Certainly it was evident that there +was as much difference in temperament as between the butterfly and the bee. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” replied the elder woman quickly to a request from Kennedy for an +interview, “there is nothing that I care to say to the newspapers. They have +said too much already about this—unfortunate affair.” +</p> + +<p> +Whether it was imagination or not, I fancied that there was an air of reserve +about both women. It struck me as a most peculiar household. What was it? Was +each suspicious of the other? Was each concealing something? +</p> + +<p> +I managed to steal a glance at Kennedy’s face to see whether there was anything +to confirm my own impression. He was watching Mrs. Pearcy closely as she spoke. +In fact his next few questions, inconsequential as they were, seemed addressed +to her solely for the purpose of getting her to speak. +</p> + +<p> +I followed his eyes and found that he was watching her mouth, in reality. As +she answered I noted her beautiful white teeth. Kennedy himself had trained me +to notice small things, and at the time, though I thought it was trivial, I +recall noticing on her gums, where they joined the teeth, a peculiar +bluish-black line. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy had been careful to address only Mrs. Pearcy at first, and as he +continued questioning her, she seemed to realize that he was trying to lead her +along. +</p> + +<p> +“I must positively refuse to talk any more,” she repeated finally, rising. “I +am not to be tricked into saying anything.” +</p> + +<p> +She had left the room, evidently expecting that Isabel would follow. She did +not. In fact I felt that Miss Pearcy was visibly relieved by the departure of +her stepmother. She seemed anxious to ask us something and now took the first +opportunity. +</p> + +<p> +“Tell me,” she said eagerly, “how did Mr. Minturn die? What do they really +think of it in New York?” +</p> + +<p> +“They think it is poisoning,” replied Craig, noting the look on her face. +</p> + +<p> +She betrayed nothing, as far as I could see, except a natural neighborly +interest. “Poisoning?” she repeated. “By what?” +</p> + +<p> +“Lead poisoning,” he replied evasively. +</p> + +<p> +She said nothing. It was evident that, slip of a girl though she was, she was +quite the match of anyone who attempted leading questions. Kennedy changed his +method. +</p> + +<p> +“You will pardon me,” he said apologetically, “for recalling what must be +distressing. But we newspapermen often have to do things and ask questions that +are distasteful. I believe it is rumored that your father suffered from lead +poisoning?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I don’t know what it was—none of us do,” she cried, almost pathetically. +“I had been living at the settlement until lately. When father grew worse, I +came home. He had such strange visions—hallucinations, I suppose you would call +them. In the daytime he would be so very morose and melancholy. Then, too, +there were terrible pains in his stomach, and his eyesight began to fail. Yes, +I believe that Dr. Gunther did say it was lead poisoning. But—they have said so +many things—so many things,” she repeated, plainly distressed at the subject of +her recent bereavement. +</p> + +<p> +“Your brother is not at home?” asked Kennedy, quickly changing the subject. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” she answered, then with a flash as though lifting the veil of a +confidence, added: “You know, neither Warner nor I have lived here much this +year. He has been in New York most of the time and I have been at the +settlement, as I already told you.” +</p> + +<p> +She hesitated, as if wondering whether she should say more, then added quickly: +“It has been repeated often enough; there is no reason why I shouldn’t say it +to you. Neither of us exactly approved of father’s marriage.” +</p> + +<p> +She checked herself and glanced about, somewhat with the air of one who has +suddenly considered the possibility of being overheard. +</p> + +<p> +“May I have a glass of water?” asked Kennedy suddenly. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, certainly,” she answered, going to the door, apparently eager for an +excuse to find out whether there was some one on the other side of it. +</p> + +<p> +There was not, nor any indication that there had been. +</p> + +<p> +“Evidently she does not have any suspicions of <i>that</i>,” remarked Kennedy +in an undertone, half to himself. +</p> + +<p> +I had no chance to question him, for she returned almost immediately. Instead +of drinking the water, however, he held it carefully up to the light. It was +slightly turbid. +</p> + +<p> +“You drink the water from the tap?” he asked, as he poured some of it into a +sterilized vial which he drew quickly from his vest pocket. +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly,” she replied, for the moment nonplussed at his strange actions. +“Everybody drinks the town water in Stratfield.” +</p> + +<p> +A few more questions, none of which were of importance, and Kennedy and I +excused ourselves. +</p> + +<p> +At the gate, instead of turning toward the town, however, Kennedy went on and +entered the grounds of the Minturn house next door. The lawyer, I had +understood, was a widower and, though he lived in Stratfield only part of the +time, still maintained his house there. +</p> + +<p> +We rang the bell and a middle-aged housekeeper answered. +</p> + +<p> +“I am from the water company,” he began politely. “We are testing the water, +perhaps will supply consumers with filters. Can you let me have a sample?” +</p> + +<p> +She did not demur, but invited us in. As she drew the water, Craig watched her +hands closely. She seemed to have difficulty in holding the glass, and as she +handed it to him, I noticed a peculiar hanging down of the wrist. Kennedy +poured the sample into a second vial, and I noticed that it was turbid, too. +With no mention of the tragedy to her employer, he excused himself, and we +walked slowly back to the road. +</p> + +<p> +Between the two houses Kennedy paused, and for several moments appeared to be +studying them. +</p> + +<p> +We walked slowly back along the road to the town. As we passed the local drug +store, Kennedy turned and sauntered in. +</p> + +<p> +He found it easy enough to get into conversation with the druggist, after +making a small purchase, and in the course of a few minutes we found ourselves +gossiping behind the partition that shut off the arcana of the prescription +counter from the rest of the store. +</p> + +<p> +Gradually Kennedy led the conversation around to the point which he wanted, and +asked, “I wish you’d let me fix up a little sulphureted hydrogen.” +</p> + +<p> +“Go ahead,” granted the druggist good-naturedly. “I guess you can do it. You +know as much about drugs as I do. I can stand the smell, if you can.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy smiled and set to work. +</p> + +<p> +Slowly he passed the gas through the samples of water he had taken from the two +houses. As he did so the gas, bubbling through, made a blackish precipitate. +</p> + +<p> +“What is it?” asked the druggist curiously. +</p> + +<p> +“Lead sulphide,” replied Kennedy, stroking his chin. “This is an extremely +delicate test. Why, one can get a distinct brownish tinge if lead is present in +even incredibly minute quantities.” +</p> + +<p> +He continued to work over the vials ranged on the table before him. +</p> + +<p> +“The water contains, I should say, from ten to fifteen hundredths of a grain of +lead to the gallon,” he remarked finally. +</p> + +<p> +“Where did it come from?” asked the druggist, unable longer to restrain his +curiosity. +</p> + +<p> +“I got it up at Pearcy’s,” Kennedy replied frankly, turning to observe whether +the druggist might betray any knowledge of it. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s strange,” he replied in genuine surprise. “Our water in Stratfield is +supplied by a company to a large area, and it has always seemed to me to be of +great organic purity.” +</p> + +<p> +“But the pipes are of lead, are they not?” asked Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +“Y-yes,” answered the druggist, “I think in most places the service pipes are +of lead. But,” he added earnestly as he saw the implication of his admission, +“water has never to my knowledge been found to attack the pipes so as to affect +its quality injuriously.” +</p> + +<p> +He turned his own faucet and drew a glassful. “It is normally quite clear,” he +added, holding the glass up. +</p> + +<p> +It was in fact perfectly clear, and when he passed some of the gas through it +nothing happened at all. +</p> + +<p> +Just then a man lounged into the store. +</p> + +<p> +“Hello, Doctor,” greeted the druggist. “Here are a couple of fellows that have +been investigating the water up at Pearcy’s. They’ve found lead in it. That +ought to interest you. This is Dr. Gunther,” he introduced, turning to us. +</p> + +<p> +It was an unexpected encounter, one I imagine that Kennedy might have preferred +to take place under other circumstances. But he was equal to the occasion. +</p> + +<p> +“We’ve been sent up here to look into the case for the New York <i>Star</i>,” +Kennedy said quickly. “I intended to come around to see you, but you have saved +me the trouble.” +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Gunther looked from one of us to the other. “Seems to me the New York +papers ought to have enough to do without sending men all over the country +making news,” he grunted. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” drawled Kennedy quietly, “there seems to be a most remarkable situation +up there at Pearcy’s and Minturn’s, too. As nearly as I can make out several +people there are suffering from unmistakable signs of lead poisoning. There are +the pains in the stomach, the colic, and then on the gums is that +characteristic line of plumbic sulphide, the distinctive mark produced by lead. +There is the wrist-drop, the eyesight affected, the partial paralysis, the +hallucinations and a condition in old Pearcy’s case almost bordering on +insanity—to enumerate the symptoms that seem to be present in varying degrees +in various persons in the two houses.” +</p> + +<p> +Gunther looked at Kennedy, as if in doubt just how to take him. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s what the coroner says, too—lead poisoning,” put in the druggist, +himself as keen as anyone else for a piece of local news, and evidently not +averse to stimulating talk from Dr. Gunther, who had been Pearcy’s physician. +</p> + +<p> +“That all seems to be true enough,” replied Gunther at length guardedly. “I +recognized that some time ago.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why do you think it affects each so differently?” asked the druggist. +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Gunther settled himself easily back in a chair to speak as one having +authority. “Well,” he began slowly, “Miss Pearcy, of course, hasn’t been living +there much until lately. As for the others, perhaps this gentleman here from +the <i>Star</i> knows that lead, once absorbed, may remain latent in the system +and then make itself felt. It is like arsenic, an accumulative poison, slowly +collecting in the body until the limit is reached, or until the body, becoming +weakened from some other cause, gives way to it.” +</p> + +<p> +He shifted his position slowly, and went on, as if defending the course of +action he had taken in the case. +</p> + +<p> +“Then, too, you know, there is an individual as well as family and sex +susceptibility to lead. Women are especially liable to lead poisoning, but then +perhaps in this case Mrs. Pearcy comes of a family that is very resistant. +There are many factors. Personally, I don’t think Pearcy himself was resistant. +Perhaps Minturn was not, either. At any rate, after Pearcy’s death, it was I +who advised Minturn to take the electrolysis cure in New York. I took him down +there,” added Gunther. “Confound it, I wish I had stayed with him. But I always +found Josephson perfectly reliable in hydrotherapy with other patients I sent +to him, and I understood that he had been very successful with cases sent to +him by many physicians in the city.” He paused and I waited anxiously to see +whether Kennedy would make some reference to the discovery of the strychnine +salts. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you any idea how the lead poisoning could have been caused?” asked +Kennedy instead. +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Gunther shook his head. “It is a puzzle to me,” he answered. “I am sure of +only one thing. It could not be from working in lead, for it is needless to say +that none of them worked.” +</p> + +<p> +“Food?” Craig suggested. +</p> + +<p> +The doctor considered. “I had thought of that. I know that many cases of lead +poisoning have been traced to the presence of the stuff in ordinary foods, +drugs and drinks. I have examined the foods, especially the bread. They don’t +use canned goods. I even went so far as to examine the kitchen ware to see if +there could be anything wrong with the glazing. They don’t drink wines and +beers, into which now and then the stuff seems to get.” +</p> + +<p> +“You seem to have a good grasp of the subject,” flattered Kennedy, as we rose +to go. “I can hardly blame you for neglecting the water, since everyone here +seems to be so sure of the purity of the supply.” +</p> + +<p> +Gunther said nothing. I was not surprised, for, at the very least, no one likes +to have an outsider come in and put his finger directly on the raw spot. What +more there might be to it, I could only conjecture. +</p> + +<p> +We left the druggist’s and Kennedy, glancing at his watch, remarked: “If you +will go down to the station, Walter, and get that package we left there, I +shall be much obliged to you. I want to make just one more stop, at the office +of the water company, and I think I shall just about have time for it. There’s +a pretty good restaurant across the street. Meet me there, and by that time I +shall know whether to carry out a little plan I have outlined or not.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap30"></a>CHAPTER XXX<br/> +THE ELECTROLYTIC MURDER</h2> + +<p> +We dined leisurely, which seemed strange to me, for it was not Kennedy’s custom +to let moments fly uselessly when he was on a case. However, I soon found out +why it was. He was waiting for darkness. +</p> + +<p> +As soon as the lights began to glow in the little stores on the main street, we +sallied forth, taking the direction of the Pearcy and Minturn houses. +</p> + +<p> +On the way he dropped into the hardware store and purchased a light spade and +one of the small pocket electric flashlights, about which he wrapped a piece of +cardboard in such a way as to make a most effective dark lantern. +</p> + +<p> +We trudged along in silence, occasionally changing from carrying the heavy +package to the light spade. +</p> + +<p> +Both the Pearcy and Minturn houses were in nearly total darkness when we +arrived. They set well back from the road and were plentifully shielded by +shrubbery. Then, too, at night it was not a much frequented neighborhood. We +could easily hear the footsteps of anyone approaching on the walk, and an +occasional automobile gliding past did not worry us in the least. +</p> + +<p> +“I have calculated carefully from an examination of the water company’s map,” +said Craig, “just where the water pipe of the two houses branches off from the +main in the road.” +</p> + +<p> +After a measurement or two from some landmark, we set to work a few feet +inside, under cover of the bushes and the shadows, like two grave diggers. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy had been wielding the spade vigorously for a few minutes when it +touched something metallic. There, just beneath the frost line, we came upon +the service pipe. +</p> + +<p> +He widened the hole, and carefully scraped off the damp earth that adhered to +the pipe. Next he found a valve where he shut off the water and cut out a small +piece of the pipe. +</p> + +<p> +“I hope they don’t suspect anything like this in the houses with their water +cut off,” he remarked as he carefully split the piece open lengthwise and +examined it under the light. +</p> + +<p> +On the interior of the pipe could be seen patchy lumps of white which projected +about an eighth of an inch above the internal surface. As the pipe dried in the +warm night air, they could easily be brushed off as a white powder. +</p> + +<p> +“What is it—strychnine?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” he replied, regarding it thoughtfully with some satisfaction. “That is +lead carbonate. There can be no doubt that the turbidity of the water was due +to this powder in suspension. A little dissolves in the water, while the scales +and incrustations in fine particles are carried along in the current. As a +matter of fact the amount necessary to make the water poisonous need not be +large.” +</p> + +<p> +He applied a little instrument to the cut ends of the pipe. As I bent over, I +could see the needle on its dial deflected just a bit. +</p> + +<p> +“My voltmeter,” he said, reading it, “shows that there is a current of about +1.8 volts passing through this pipe all the time.” +</p> + +<p> +“Electrolysis of water pipes!” I exclaimed, thinking of statements I had heard +by engineers. “That’s what they mean by stray or vagabond currents, isn’t it?” +</p> + +<p> +He had seized the lantern and was eagerly following up and down the line of the +water pipe. At last he stopped, with a low exclamation, at a point where an +electric light wire supplying the Minturn cottage crossed overhead. Fastened +inconspicuously to the trunk of a tree which served as a support for the wire +was another wire which led down from it and was buried in the ground. +</p> + +<p> +Craig turned up the soft earth as fast as he could, until he reached the pipe +at this point. There was the buried wire wound several times around it. +</p> + +<p> +As quickly and as neatly as he could he inserted a connection between the +severed ends of the pipe to restore the flow of water to the houses, turned on +the water and covered up the holes he had dug. Then he unwrapped the package +which we had tugged about all day, and in a narrow path between the bushes +which led to the point where the wire had tapped the electric light feed he +placed in a shallow hole in the ground a peculiar apparatus. +</p> + +<p> +As nearly as I could make it out, it consisted of two flat platforms between +which, covered over and projected, was a slip of paper which moved forward, +actuated by clockwork, and pressed on by a sort of stylus. Then he covered it +over lightly with dirt so that, unless anyone had been looking for it, it would +never be noticed. +</p> + +<p> +It was late when we reached the city again, but Kennedy had one more piece of +work and that devolved on me. All the way down on the train he had been writing +and rewriting something. +</p> + +<p> +“Walter,” he said, as the train pulled into the station, “I want that published +in to-morrow’s papers.” +</p> + +<p> +I looked over what he had written. It was one of the most sensational stories I +have ever fathered, beginning, “Latest of the victims of the unknown poisoner +of whole families in Stratfield, Connecticut, is Miss Isabel Pearcy, whose +father, Randall Pearcy, died last week.” +</p> + +<p> +I knew that it was a “plant” of some kind, for so far he had discovered no +evidence that Miss Pearcy had been affected. What his purpose was, I could not +guess, but I got the story printed. +</p> + +<p> +The next morning early Kennedy was quietly at work in the laboratory. +</p> + +<p> +“What is this treatment of lead poisoning by electrolysis?” I asked, now that +there had come a lull when I might get an intelligible answer. “How does it +work?” +</p> + +<p> +“Brand new, Walter,” replied Kennedy. “It has been discovered that ions will +flow directly through the membranes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ions?” I repeated. “What are ions?” +</p> + +<p> +“Travelers,” he answered, smiling, “so named by Faraday from the Greek verb, +<i>io</i>, to go. They are little positive and negative charges of electricity +of which molecules are composed. You know some believe now that matter is +really composed of electrical energy. I think I can explain it best by a simile +I use with my classes. It is as though you had a ballroom in which the dancers +in couples represent the neutral molecules. There are a certain number of +isolated ladies and gentlemen—dissociated ions—” “Who don’t know these new +dances?” I interrupted. +</p> + +<p> +“They all know this dance,” he laughed. “But, to be serious in the simile, +suppose at one end of the room there is a large mirror and at the other a +buffet with cigars and champagne. What happens to the dissociated ions?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I suppose you want me to say that the ladies gather about the mirror and +the men about the buffet.” +</p> + +<p> +“Exactly. And some of the dancing partners separate and follow the crowd. Well, +that room presents a picture of what happens in an electrolytic solution at the +moment when the electric current is passing through it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thanks,” I laughed. “That was quite adequate to my immature understanding.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy continued at work, checking up and arranging his data until the middle +of the afternoon, when he went up to Stratfield. +</p> + +<p> +Having nothing better to do, I wandered out about town in the hope of running +across some one with whom to while away the hours until Kennedy returned. I +found out that, since yesterday, Broadway had woven an entirely new background +for the mystery. Now it was rumored that the lawyer Minturn himself had been on +very intimate terms with Mrs. Pearcy. I did not pay much attention to the +rumor, for I knew that Broadway is constitutionally unable to believe that +anybody is straight. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy had commissioned me to keep in touch with Josephson and I finally +managed to get around to the Baths, to find them still closed. +</p> + +<p> +As I was talking with him, a very muddy and dusty car pulled up at the door and +a young man whose face was marred by the red congested blood vessels that are +in some a mark of dissipation burst in on us. +</p> + +<p> +“What—closed up yet—Joe?” he asked. “Haven’t they taken Minturn’s body away?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, it was sent up to Stratfield to-day,” replied the masseur, “but the +coroner seems to want to worry me all he can.” +</p> + +<p> +“Too bad. I was up almost all last night, and to-day I have been out in my +car—tired to death. Thought I might get some rest here. Where are you sending +the boys—to the Longacre?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. They’ll take good care of you till I open up again. Hope to see you back +again, then, Mr. Pearcy,” he added, as the young man turned and hurried out to +his car again. “That was that young Pearcy, you know. Nice boy—but living the +life too fast. What’s Kennedy doing—anything?” +</p> + +<p> +I did not like the jaunty bravado of the masseur which now seemed to be +returning, since nothing definite had taken shape. I determined that he should +not pump me, as he evidently was trying to do. I had at least fulfilled +Kennedy’s commission and felt that the sooner I left Josephson the better for +both of us. +</p> + +<p> +I was surprised at dinner to receive a wire from Craig saying that he was +bringing down Dr. Gunther, Mrs. Pearcy and Isabel to New York and asking me to +have Warner Pearcy and Josephson at the laboratory at nine o’clock. +</p> + +<p> +By strategy I managed to persuade Pearcy to come, and as for Josephson, he +could not very well escape, though I saw that as long as nothing more had +happened, he was more interested in “fixing” the police so that he could resume +business than anything else. +</p> + +<p> +As we entered the laboratory that night, Kennedy, who had left his party at a +downtown hotel to freshen up, met us each at the door. Instead of conducting us +in front of his laboratory table, which was the natural way, he led us singly +around through the narrow space back of it. +</p> + +<p> +I recall that as I followed him, I half imagined that the floor gave way just a +bit, and there flashed over me, by a queer association of ideas, the +recollection of having visited an amusement park not long before where merely +stepping on an innocent-looking section of the flooring had resulted in a +tremendous knocking and banging beneath, much to the delight of the lovers of +slap-stick humor. This was serious business, however, and I quickly banished +the frivolous thought from my mind. +</p> + +<p> +“The discovery of poison, and its identification,” began Craig at last when we +had all arrived and were seated about him, “often involves not only the use of +chemistry but also a knowledge of the chemical effect of the poison on the +body, and the gross as well as microscopic changes which it produces in various +tissues and organs—changes, some due to mere contact, others to the actual +chemicophysiological reaction between the poison and the body.” +</p> + +<p> +His hand was resting on the poles of a large battery, as he proceeded: “Every +day the medical detective plays a more and more important part in the detection +of crime, and I might say that, except in the case of crime complicated by a +lunacy plea, his work has earned the respect of the courts and of detectives, +while in the case of insanity the discredit is the fault rather of the law +itself. The ways in which the doctor can be of use in untangling the facts in +many forms of crime have become so numerous that the profession of medical +detective may almost be called a specialty.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy repeated what he had already told me about electrolysis, then placed +between the poles of the battery a large piece of raw beef. +</p> + +<p> +He covered the negative electrode with blotting paper and soaked it in a beaker +near at hand. +</p> + +<p> +“This solution,” he explained, “is composed of potassium iodide. In this other +beaker I have a mixture of ordinary starch.” +</p> + +<p> +He soaked the positive electrode in the starch and then jammed the two against +the soft red meat. Then he applied the current. +</p> + +<p> +A few moments later he withdrew the positive electrode. Both it and the meat +under it were blue! +</p> + +<p> +“What has happened?” he asked. “The iodine ions have actually passed through +the beef to the positive pole and the paper on the electrode. Here we have +starch iodide.” +</p> + +<p> +It was a startling idea, this of the introduction of a substance by +electrolysis. +</p> + +<p> +“I may say,” he resumed, “that the medical view of electricity is changing, due +in large measure to the genius of the Frenchman, Dr. Leduc. The body, we know, +is composed largely of water, with salts of soda and potash. It is an excellent +electrolyte. Yet most doctors regard the introduction of substances by the +electric current as insignificant or nonexistent. But on the contrary the +introduction of drugs by electrolysis is regular and far from being +insignificant may very easily bring about death. +</p> + +<p> +“That action,” he went on, looking from one of us to another, “may be +therapeutic, as in the cure for lead poisoning by removing the lead, or it may +be toxic—as in the case of actually introducing such a poison as strychnine +into the body by the same forces that will remove the lead.” +</p> + +<p> +He paused a moment, to enforce the point which had already been suggested. I +glanced about hastily. If anyone in his little audience was guilty, no one +betrayed it, for all were following him, fascinated. Yet in the wildly +throbbing brain of some one of them the guilty knowledge must be seared +indelibly. Would the mere accusation be enough to dissociate the truth from, +that brain or would Kennedy have to resort to other means? +</p> + +<p> +“Some one,” he went on, in a low, tense voice, leaning forward, “some one who +knew this effect placed strychnine salts on one of the electrodes of the bath +which Owen Minturn was to use.” +</p> + +<p> +He did not pause. Evidently he was planning to let the force of his exposure be +cumulative, until from its sheer momentum it carried everything before it. +</p> + +<p> +“Walter,” he ordered quickly. “Lend me a hand.” +</p> + +<p> +Together we moved the laboratory table as he directed. +</p> + +<p> +There, in the floor, concealed by the shadow, he had placed the same apparatus +which I had seen him bury in the path between the Pearcy and Minturn estates at +Stratfield. +</p> + +<p> +We scarcely breathed. +</p> + +<p> +“This,” he explained rapidly, “is what is known as a kinograph—the invention of +Professor HeleShaw of London. It enables me to identify a person by his or her +walk. Each of you as you entered this room has passed over this apparatus and +has left a different mark on the paper which registers.” +</p> + +<p> +For a moment he stopped, as if gathering strength for the final assault. +</p> + +<p> +“Until late this afternoon I had this kinograph secreted at a certain place in +Stratfield. Some one had tampered with the leaden water pipes and the electric +light cable. Fearful that the lead poisoning brought on by electrolysis might +not produce its result in the intended victim, that person took advantage of +the new discoveries in electrolysis to complete that work by introducing the +deadly strychnine during the very process of cure of the lead poisoning.” +</p> + +<p> +He slapped down a copy of a newspaper. “In the news this morning I told just +enough of what I had discovered and colored it in such a way that I was sure I +would arouse apprehension. I did it because I wanted to make the criminal +revisit the real scene of the crime. There was a double motive now—to remove +the evidence and to check the spread of the poisoning.” +</p> + +<p> +He reached over, tore off the paper with a quick, decisive motion, and laid it +beside another strip, a little discolored by moisture, as though the damp earth +had touched it. +</p> + +<p> +“That person, alarmed lest something in the cleverly laid plot, might be +discovered, went to a certain spot to remove the traces of the diabolical work +which were hidden there. My kinograph shows the footsteps, shows as plainly as +if I had been present, the exact person who tried to obliterate the evidence.” +</p> + +<p> +An ashen pallor seemed to spread over the face of Miss Pearcy, as Kennedy shot +out the words. +</p> + +<p> +“That person,” he emphasized, “had planned to put out of the way one who had +brought disgrace on the Pearcy family. It was an act of private justice.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Pearcy could stand the strain no longer. She had broken down and was +weeping incoherently. I strained my ears to catch what she was murmuring. It +was Minturn’s name, not Gunther’s, that was on her lips. +</p> + +<p> +“But,” cried Kennedy, raising an accusatory finger from the kinograph tracing +and pointing it like the finger of Fate itself, “but the self-appointed avenger +forgot that the leaden water pipe was common to the two houses. Old Mr. Pearcy, +the wronged, died first. Isabel has guessed the family skeleton—has tried hard +to shield you, but, Warner Pearcy, you are the murderer!” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap31"></a>CHAPTER XXXI<br/> +THE EUGENIC BRIDE</h2> + +<p> +Scandal, such as that which Kennedy unearthed in this Pearcy case, was never +much to his liking, yet he seemed destined, about this period of his career, to +have a good deal of it. +</p> + +<p> +We had scarcely finished with the indictment that followed the arrest of young +Pearcy, when we were confronted by a situation which was as unique as it was +intensely modern. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s absolutely no insanity in Eugenia’s family,” I heard a young man +remark to Kennedy, as my key turned in the lock of the laboratory door. +</p> + +<p> +For a moment I hesitated about breaking in on a confidential conference, then +reflected that, as they had probably already heard me at the lock, I had better +go in and excuse myself. +</p> + +<p> +As I swung the door open, I saw a young man pacing up and down the laboratory +nervously, too preoccupied even to notice the slight noise I had made. +</p> + +<p> +He paused in his nervous walk and faced Kennedy, his back to me. +</p> + +<p> +“Kennedy,” he said huskily, “I wouldn’t care if there was insanity in her +family—for, my God!—the tragedy of it all now—I love her!” +</p> + +<p> +He turned, following Kennedy’s eyes in my direction, and I saw on his face the +most haggard, haunting look of anxiety that I had ever seen on a young person. +</p> + +<p> +Instantly I recognized from the pictures I had seen in the newspapers young +Quincy Atherton, the last of this famous line of the family, who had attracted +a great deal of attention several months previously by what the newspapers had +called his search through society for a “eugenics bride,” to infuse new blood +into the Atherton stock. +</p> + +<p> +“You need have no fear that Mr. Jameson will be like the other newspaper men,” +reassured Craig, as he introduced us, mindful of the prejudice which the +unpleasant notoriety of Atherton’s marriage had already engendered in his mind. +</p> + +<p> +I recalled that when I had first heard of Atherton’s “eugenic marriage,” I had +instinctively felt a prejudice against the very idea of such cold, calculating, +materialistic, scientific mating, as if one of the last fixed points were +disappearing in the chaos of the social and sex upheaval. +</p> + +<p> +Now, I saw that one great fact of life must always remain. We might ride in +hydroaeroplanes, delve into the very soul by psychanalysis, perhaps even run +our machines by the internal forces of radium—even marry according to Galton or +Mendel. But there would always be love, deep passionate love of the man for the +woman, love which all the discoveries of science might perhaps direct a little +less blindly, but the consuming flame of which not all the coldness of science +could ever quench. No tampering with the roots of human nature could ever +change the roots. +</p> + +<p> +I must say that I rather liked young Atherton. He had a frank, open face, the +most prominent feature of which was his somewhat aristocratic nose. Otherwise +he impressed one as being the victim of heredity in faults, if at all serious, +against which he was struggling heroically. +</p> + +<p> +It was a most pathetic story which he told, a story of how his family had +degenerated from the strong stock of his ancestors until he was the last of the +line. He told of his education, how he had fallen, a rather wild youth bent in +the footsteps of his father who had been a notoriously good clubfellow, under +the influence of a college professor, Dr. Crafts, a classmate of his father’s, +of how the professor had carefully and persistently fostered in him an idea +that had completely changed him. +</p> + +<p> +“Crafts always said it was a case of eugenics against euthenics,” remarked +Atherton, “of birth against environment. He would tell me over and over that +birth gave me the clay, and it wasn’t such bad clay after all, but that +environment would shape the vessel.” +</p> + +<p> +Then Atherton launched into a description of how he had striven to find a girl +who had the strong qualities his family germ plasm seemed to have lost, mainly, +I gathered, resistance to a taint much like manic depressive insanity. And as +he talked, it was borne in on me that, after all, contrary to my first +prejudice, there was nothing very romantic indeed about disregarding the plain +teachings of science on the subject of marriage and one’s children. +</p> + +<p> +In his search for a bride, Dr. Crafts, who had founded a sort of Eugenics +Bureau, had come to advise him. Others may have looked up their brides in +Bradstreet’s, or at least the Social Register. Atherton had gone higher, had +been overjoyed to find that a girl he had met in the West, Eugenia Gilman, +measured up to what his friend told him were the latest teachings of science. +He had been overjoyed because, long before Crafts had told him, he had found +out that he loved her deeply. +</p> + +<p> +“And now,” he went on, half choking with emotion, “she is apparently suffering +from just the same sort of depression as I myself might suffer from if the +recessive trait became active.” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you mean, for instance?” asked Craig. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, for one thing, she has the delusion that my relatives are persecuting +her.” +</p> + +<p> +“Persecuting her?” repeated Craig, stifling the remark that that was not in +itself a new thing in this or any other family. “How?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, making her feel that, after all, it is Atherton family rather than Gilman +health that counts—little remarks that when our baby is born, they hope it will +resemble Quincy rather than Eugenia, and all that sort of thing, only worse and +more cutting, until the thing has begun to prey on her mind.” +</p> + +<p> +“I see,” remarked Kennedy thoughtfully. “But don’t you think this is a case for +a—a doctor, rather than a detective?” +</p> + +<p> +Atherton glanced up quickly. “Kennedy,” he answered slowly, “where millions of +dollars are involved, no one can guess to what lengths the human mind will +go—no one, except you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you have suspicions of something worse?” +</p> + +<p> +“Y-yes—but nothing definite. Now, take this case. If I should die childless, +after my wife, the Atherton estate would descend to my nearest relative, +Burroughs Atherton, a cousin.” +</p> + +<p> +“Unless you willed it to—” +</p> + +<p> +“I have already drawn a will,” he interrupted, “and in case I survive Eugenia +and die childless, the money goes to the founding of a larger Eugenics Bureau, +to prevent in the future, as much as possible, tragedies such as this of which +I find myself a part. If the case is reversed, Eugenia will get her third and +the remainder will go to the Bureau or the Foundation, as I call the new +venture. But,” and here young Atherton leaned forward and fixed his large eyes +keenly on us, “Burroughs might break the will. He might show that I was of +unsound mind, or that Eugenia was, too.” +</p> + +<p> +“Are there no other relatives?” +</p> + +<p> +“Burroughs is the nearest,” he replied, then added frankly, “I have a second +cousin, a young lady named Edith Atherton, with whom both Burroughs and I used +to be very friendly.” +</p> + +<p> +It was evident from the way he spoke that he had thought a great deal about +Edith Atherton, and still thought well of her. +</p> + +<p> +“Your wife thinks it is Burroughs who is persecuting her?” asked Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +Atherton shrugged his shoulders. +</p> + +<p> +“Does she get along badly with Edith? She knows her I presume?” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course. The fact is that since the death of her mother, Edith has been +living with us. She is a splendid girl, and all alone in the world now, and I +had hopes that in New York she might meet some one and marry well.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy was looking squarely at Atherton, wondering whether he might ask a +question without seeming impertinent. Atherton caught the look, read it, and +answered quite frankly, “To tell the truth, I suppose I might have married +Edith, before I met Eugenia, if Professor Crafts had not dissuaded me. But it +wouldn’t have been real love—nor wise. You know,” he went on more frankly, now +that the first hesitation was over and he realized that if he were to gain +anything at all by Kennedy’s services, there must be the utmost candor between +them, “you know cousins may marry if the stocks are known to be strong. But if +there is a defect, it is almost sure to be intensified. And so I—I gave up the +idea—never had it, in fact, so strongly as to propose to her. And when I met +Eugenia all the Athertons on the family tree couldn’t have bucked up against +the combination.” +</p> + +<p> +He was deadly in earnest as he arose from the chair into which he had dropped +after I came in. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, it’s terrible—this haunting fear, this obsession that I have had, that, in +spite of all I have tried to do, some one, somehow, will defeat me. Then comes +the situation, just at a time when Eugenia and I feel that we have won against +Fate, and she in particular needs all the consideration and care in the +world—and—and I am defeated.” +</p> + +<p> +Atherton was again pacing the laboratory. +</p> + +<p> +“I have my car waiting outside,” he pleaded. “I wish you would go with me to +see Eugenia—now.” +</p> + +<p> +It was impossible to resist him. Kennedy rose and I followed, not without a +trace of misgiving. +</p> + +<p> +The Atherton mansion was one of the old houses of the city, a somber stone +dwelling with a garden about it on a downtown square, on which business was +already encroaching. We were admitted by a servant who seemed to walk over the +polished floors with stealthy step as if there was something sacred about even +the Atherton silence. As we waited in a high-ceilinged drawing-room with +exquisite old tapestries on the walls, I could not help feeling myself the +influence of wealth and birth that seemed to cry out from every object of art +in the house. +</p> + +<p> +On the longer wall of the room, I saw a group of paintings. One, I noted +especially, must have been Atherton’s ancestor, the founder of the line. There +was the same nose in Atherton, for instance, a striking instance of heredity. I +studied the face carefully. There was every element of strength in it, and I +thought instinctively that, whatever might have been the effects of in-breeding +and bad alliances, there must still be some of that strength left in the +present descendant of the house of Atherton. The more I thought about the +house, the portrait, the whole case, the more unable was I to get out of my +head a feeling that though I had not been in such a position before, I had at +least read or heard something of which it vaguely reminded me. +</p> + +<p> +Eugenia Atherton was reclining listlessly in her room in a deep leather easy +chair, when Atherton took us up at last. She did not rise to greet us, but I +noted that she was attired in what Kennedy once called, as we strolled up the +Avenue, “the expensive sloppiness of the present styles.” In her case the +looseness with which her clothes hung was exaggerated by the lack of energy +with which she wore them. +</p> + +<p> +She had been a beautiful girl, I knew. In fact, one could see that she must +have been. Now, however, she showed marks of change. Her eyes were large, and +protruding, not with the fire of passion which is often associated with large +eyes, but dully, set in a puffy face, a trifle florid. Her hands seemed, when +she moved them, to shake with an involuntary tremor, and in spite of the fact +that one almost could feel that her heart and lungs were speeding with energy, +she had lost weight and no longer had the full, rounded figure of health. Her +manner showed severe mental disturbance, indifference, depression, a +distressing deterioration. All her attractive Western breeziness was gone. One +felt the tragedy of it only too keenly. +</p> + +<p> +“I have asked Professor Kennedy, a specialist, to call, my dear,” said Atherton +gently, without mentioning what the specialty was. +</p> + +<p> +“Another one?” she queried languorously. +</p> + +<p> +There was a colorless indifference in the tone which was almost tragic. She +said the words slowly and deliberately, as though even her mind worked that +way. +</p> + +<p> +From the first, I saw that Kennedy had been observing Eugenia Atherton keenly. +And in the role of specialist in nervous diseases he was enabled to do what +otherwise would have been difficult to accomplish. +</p> + +<p> +Gradually, from observing her mental condition of indifference which made +conversation extremely difficult as well as profitless, he began to consider +her physical condition. I knew him well enough to gather from his manner alone +as he went on that what had seemed at the start to be merely a curious case, +because it concerned the Athertons, was looming up in his mind as unusual in +itself, and was interesting him because it baffled him. +</p> + +<p> +Craig had just discovered that her pulse was abnormally high, and that +consequently she had a high temperature, and was sweating profusely. +</p> + +<p> +“Would you mind turning your head, Mrs. Atherton?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +She turned slowly, half way, her eyes fixed vacantly on the floor until we +could see the once striking profile. +</p> + +<p> +“No, all the way around, if you please,” added Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +She offered no objection, not the slightest resistance. As she turned her head +as far as she could, Kennedy quickly placed his forefinger and thumb gently on +her throat, the once beautiful throat, now with skin harsh and rough. Softly he +moved his fingers just a fraction of an inch over the so-called “Adam’s apple” +and around it for a little distance. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you,” he said. “Now around to the other side.” +</p> + +<p> +He made no other remark as he repeated the process, but I fancied I could tell +that he had had an instant suspicion of something the moment he touched her +throat. +</p> + +<p> +He rose abstractedly, bowed, and we started to leave the room, uncertain +whether she knew or cared. Quincy had fixed his eyes silently on Craig, as if +imploring him to speak, but I knew how unlikely that was until he had confirmed +his suspicion to the last slightest detail. +</p> + +<p> +We were passing through a dressing room in the suite when we met a tall young +woman, whose face I instantly recognized, not because I had ever seen it +before, but because she had the Atherton nose so prominently developed. +</p> + +<p> +“My cousin, Edith,” introduced Quincy. +</p> + +<p> +We bowed and stood for a moment chatting. There seemed to be no reason why we +should leave the suite, since Mrs. Atherton paid so little attention to us even +when we had been in the same room. Yet a slight movement in her room told me +that in spite of her lethargy she seemed to know that we were there and to +recognize who had joined us. +</p> + +<p> +Edith Atherton was a noticeable woman, a woman of temperament, not beautiful +exactly, but with a stateliness about her, an aloofness. The more I studied her +face, with its thin sensitive lips and commanding, almost imperious eyes, the +more there seemed to be something peculiar about her. She was dressed very +simply in black, but it was the simplicity that costs. One thing was quite +evident—her pride in the family of Atherton. +</p> + +<p> +And as we talked, it seemed to be that she, much more than Eugenia in her +former blooming health, was a part of the somber house. There came over me +again the impression I had received before that I had read or heard something +like this case before. +</p> + +<p> +She did not linger long, but continued her stately way into the room where +Eugenia sat. And at once it flashed over me what my impression, indefinable, +half formed, was. I could not help thinking, as I saw her pass, of the lady +Madeline in “The Fall of the House of Usher.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap32"></a>CHAPTER XXXII<br/> +THE GERM PLASM</h2> + +<p> +I regarded her with utter astonishment and yet found it impossible to account +for such a feeling. I looked at Atherton, but on his face I could see nothing +but a sort of questioning fear that only increased my illusion, as if he, too, +had only a vague, haunting premonition of something terrible impending. Almost +I began to wonder whether the Atherton house might not crumble under the +fierceness of a sudden whirlwind, while the two women in this case, one +representing the wasted past, the other the blasted future, dragged Atherton +down, as the whole scene dissolved into some ghostly tarn. It was only for a +moment, and then I saw that the more practical Kennedy had been examining some +bottles on the lady’s dresser before which we had paused. +</p> + +<p> +One was a plain bottle of pellets which might have been some homeopathic +remedy. +</p> + +<p> +“Whatever it is that is the matter with Eugenia,” remarked Atherton, “it seems +to have baffled the doctors so far.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy said nothing, but I saw that he had clumsily overturned the bottle and +absently set it up again, as though his thoughts were far away. Yet with a +cleverness that would have done credit to a professor of legerdemain he had +managed to extract two or three of the pellets. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he said, as he moved slowly toward the staircase in the wide hall, “most +baffling.” +</p> + +<p> +Atherton was plainly disappointed. Evidently he had expected Kennedy to arrive +at the truth and set matters right by some sudden piece of wizardry, and it was +with difficulty that he refrained from saying so. +</p> + +<p> +“I should like to meet Burroughs Atherton,” he remarked as we stood in the wide +hall on the first floor of the big house. “Is he a frequent visitor?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not frequent,” hastened Quincy Atherton, in a tone that showed some +satisfaction in saying it. “However, by a lucky chance he has promised to call +to-night—a mere courtesy, I believe, to Edith, since she has come to town on a +visit.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good!” exclaimed Kennedy. “Now, I leave it to you, Atherton, to make some +plausible excuse for our meeting Burroughs here.” +</p> + +<p> +“I can do that easily.” +</p> + +<p> +“I shall be here early,” pursued Kennedy as we left. +</p> + +<p> +Back again in the laboratory to which Atherton insisted on accompanying us in +his car, Kennedy busied himself for a few minutes, crushing up one of the +tablets and trying one or two reactions with some of the powder dissolved, +while I looked on curiously. +</p> + +<p> +“Craig,” I remarked contemplatively, after a while, “how about Atherton +himself? Is he really free from the—er—stigmata, I suppose you call them, of +insanity?” +</p> + +<p> +“You mean, may the whole trouble lie with him?” he asked, not looking up from +his work. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—and the effect on her be a sort of reflex, say, perhaps the effect of +having sold herself for money and position. In other words, does she, did she, +ever love him? We don’t know that. Might it not prey on her mind, until with +the kind help of his precious relatives even Nature herself could not stand the +strain—especially in the delicate condition in which she now finds herself?” +</p> + +<p> +I must admit that I felt the utmost sympathy for the poor girl whom we had just +seen such a pitiable wreck. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy closed his eyes tightly until they wrinkled at the corners. +</p> + +<p> +“I think I have found out the immediate cause of her trouble,” he said simply, +ignoring my suggestion. +</p> + +<p> +“What is it?” I asked eagerly. +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t imagine how they could have failed to guess it, except that they never +would have suspected to look for anything resembling exophthalmic goiter in a +person of her stamina,” he answered, pronouncing the word slowly. “You have +heard of the thyroid gland in the neck?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes?” I queried, for it was a mere name to me. +</p> + +<p> +“It is a vascular organ lying under the chin with a sort of little isthmus +joining the two parts on either side of the windpipe,” he explained. “Well, +when there is any deterioration of those glands through any cause, all sorts of +complications may arise. The thyroid is one of the so-called ductless glands, +like the adrenals above the kidneys, the pineal gland and the pituitary body. +In normal activity they discharge into the blood substances which are carried +to other organs and are now known to be absolutely essential. +</p> + +<p> +“The substances which they secrete are called ‘hormones’—those chemical +messengers, as it were, by which many of the processes of the body are +regulated. In fact, no field of experimental physiology is richer in interest +than this. It seems that few ordinary drugs approach in their effects on +metabolism the hormones of the thyroid. In excess they produce such diseases as +exophthalmic goiter, and goiter is concerned with the enlargement of the glands +and surrounding tissues beyond anything like natural size. Then, too, a defect +in the glands causes the disease known as myxedema in adults and cretinism in +children. Most of all, the gland seems to tell on the germ plasm of the body, +especially in women.” +</p> + +<p> +I listened in amazement, hardly knowing what to think. Did his discovery +portend something diabolical, or was it purely a defect in nature which Dr. +Crafts of the Eugenics Bureau had overlooked? +</p> + +<p> +“One thing at a time, Walter,” cautioned Kennedy, when I put the question to +him, scarcely expecting an answer yet. +</p> + +<p> +That night in the old Atherton mansion, while we waited for Borroughs to +arrive, Kennedy, whose fertile mind had contrived to kill at least two birds +with one stone, busied himself by cutting in on the regular telephone line and +placing an extension of his own in a closet in the library. To it he attached +an ordinary telephone receiver fastened to an arrangement which was strange to +me. As nearly as I can describe it, between the diaphragm of the regular +receiver and a brownish cylinder, like that of a phonograph, and with a needle +attached, was fitted an air chamber of small size, open to the outer air by a +small hole to prevent compression. +</p> + +<p> +The work was completed expeditiously, but we had plenty of time to wait, for +Borroughs Atherton evidently did not consider that an evening had fairly begun +until nine o’clock. +</p> + +<p> +He arrived at last, however, rather tall, slight of figure, narrow-shouldered, +designed for the latest models of imported fabrics. It was evident merely by +shaking hands with Burroughs that he thought both the Athertons and the +Burroughses just the right combination. He was one of those few men against +whom I conceive an instinctive prejudice, and in this case I felt positive +that, whatever faults the Atherton germ plasm might contain, he had combined +others from the determiners of that of the other ancestors he boasted. I could +not help feeling that Eugenia Atherton was in about as unpleasant an atmosphere +of social miasma as could be imagined. +</p> + +<p> +Burroughs asked politely after Eugenia, but it was evident that the real +deference was paid to Edith Atherton and that they got along very well +together. Burroughs excused himself early, and we followed soon after. +</p> + +<p> +“I think I shall go around to this Eugenics Bureau of Dr. Crafts,” remarked +Kennedy the next day, after a night’s consideration of the case. +</p> + +<p> +The Bureau occupied a floor in a dwelling house uptown which had been remodeled +into an office building. Huge cabinets were stacked up against the walls, and +in them several women were engaged in filing blanks and card records. Another +part of the office consisted of an extensive library on eugenic subjects. +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Crafts, in charge of the work, whom we found in a little office in front +partitioned off by ground glass, was an old man with an alert, vigorous mind on +whom the effects of plain living and high thinking showed plainly. He was +looking over some new blanks with a young woman who seemed to be working with +him, directing the force of clerks as well as the “field workers,” who were +gathering the vast mass of information which was being studied. As we +introduced ourselves, he introduced Dr. Maude Schofield. +</p> + +<p> +“I have heard of your eugenic marriage contests,” began Kennedy, “more +especially of what you have done for Mr. Quincy Atherton.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well—not exactly a contest in that case, at least,” corrected Dr. Crafts with +an indulgent smile for a layman. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” put in Dr. Schofield, “the Eugenics Bureau isn’t a human stock farm.” +</p> + +<p> +“I see,” commented Kennedy, who had no such idea, anyhow. He was always lenient +with anyone who had what he often referred to as the “illusion of grandeur.” +</p> + +<p> +“We advise people sometimes regarding the desirability or the undesirability of +marriage,” mollified Dr. Crafts. “This is a sort of clearing house for +scientific race investigation and improvement.” +</p> + +<p> +“At any rate,” persisted Kennedy, “after investigation, I understand, you +advised in favor of his marriage with Miss Gilman.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Eugenia Gilman seemed to measure well up to the requirements in such a +match. Her branch of the Gilmans has always been of the vigorous, pioneering +type, as well as intellectual. Her father was one of the foremost thinkers in +the West; in fact had long held ideas on the betterment of the race. You see +that in the choice of a name for his daughter—Eugenia.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then there were no recessive traits in her family,” asked Kennedy quickly, “of +the same sort that you find in the Athertons?” +</p> + +<p> +“None that we could discover,” answered Dr. Crafts positively. +</p> + +<p> +“No epilepsy, no insanity of any form?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. Of course, you understand that almost no one is what might be called +eugenically perfect. Strictly speaking, perhaps not over two or three per cent. +of the population even approximates that standard. But it seemed to me that in +everything essential in this case, weakness latent in Atherton was mating +strength in Eugenia and the same way on her part for an entirely different set +of traits.” +</p> + +<p> +“Still,” considered Kennedy, “there might have been something latent in her +family germ plasm back of the time through which you could trace it?” +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Crafts shrugged his shoulders. “There often is, I must admit, something we +can’t discover because it lies too far back in the past.” +</p> + +<p> +“And likely to crop out after skipping generations,” put in Maude Schofield. +</p> + +<p> +She evidently did not take the same liberal view in the practical application +of the matter expressed by her chief. I set it down to the ardor of youth in a +new cause, which often becomes the saner conservatism of maturity. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course, you found it much easier than usual to get at the true family +history of the Athertons,” pursued Kennedy. “It is an old family and has been +prominent for generations.” +</p> + +<p> +“Naturally,” assented Dr. Crafts. +</p> + +<p> +“You know Burroughs Atherton on both lines of descent?” asked Kennedy, changing +the subject abruptly. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, fairly well,” answered Crafts. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, for example,” went on Craig, “how would you advise him to marry?” +</p> + +<p> +I saw at once that he was taking this subterfuge as a way of securing +information which might otherwise have been withheld if asked for directly. +Maude Schofield also saw it, I fancied, but this time said nothing. “They had a +grandfather who was a manic depressive on the Atherton side,” said Crafts +slowly. “Now, no attempt has ever been made to breed that defect out of the +family. In the case of Burroughs, it is perhaps a little worse, for the other +side of his ancestry is not free from the taint of alcoholism.” +</p> + +<p> +“And Edith Atherton?” +</p> + +<p> +“The same way. They both carry it. I won’t go into the Mendelian law on the +subject. We are clearing up much that is obscure. But as to Burroughs, he +should marry, if at all, some one without that particular taint. I believe that +in a few generations by proper mating most taints might be bred out of +families.” +</p> + +<p> +Maude Schofield evidently did not agree with Dr. Crafts on some point, and, +noticing it, he seemed to be in the position both of explaining his contention +to us and of defending it before his fair assistant. +</p> + +<p> +“It is my opinion, as far as I have gone with the data,” he added, “that there +is hope for many of those whose family history shows certain nervous taints. A +sweeping prohibition of such marriages would be futile, perhaps injurious. It +is necessary that the mating be carefully made, however, to prevent +intensifying the taint. You see, though I am a eugenist I am not an extremist.” +</p> + +<p> +He paused, then resumed argumentatively: “Then there are other questions, too, +like that of genius with its close relation to manic depressive insanity. Also, +there is decrease enough in the birth rate, without adding an excuse for it. +No, that a young man like Atherton should take the subject seriously, instead +of spending his time in wild dissipation, like his father, is certainly +creditable, argues in itself that there still must exist some strength in his +stock. +</p> + +<p> +“And, of course,” he continued warmly, “when I say that weakness in a trait—not +in all traits, by any means—should marry strength and that strength may marry +weakness, I don’t mean that all matches should be like that. If we are too +strict we may prohibit practically all marriages. In Atherton’s case, as in +many another, I felt that I should interpret the rule as sanely as possible.” +</p> + +<p> +“Strength should marry strength, and weakness should never marry,” persisted +Maude Schofield. “Nothing short of that will satisfy the true eugenist.” +</p> + +<p> +“Theoretically,” objected Crafts. “But Atherton was going to marry, anyhow. The +only thing for me to do was to lay down a rule which he might follow safely. +Besides, any other rule meant sure disaster.” +</p> + +<p> +“It was the only rule with half a chance of being followed and at any rate,” +drawled Kennedy, as the eugenists wrangled, “what difference does it make in +this case? As nearly as I can make out it is Mrs. Atherton herself, not +Atherton, who is ill.” +</p> + +<p> +Maude Schofield had risen to return to supervising a clerk who needed help. She +left us, still unconvinced. +</p> + +<p> +“That is a very clever girl,” remarked Kennedy as she shut the door and he +scanned Dr. Crafts’ face dosely. +</p> + +<p> +“Very,” assented the Doctor. +</p> + +<p> +“The Schofields come of good stock?” hazarded Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +“Very,” assented Dr. Crafts again. +</p> + +<p> +Evidently he did not care to talk about individual cases, and I felt that the +rule was a safe one, to prevent Eugenics from becoming Gossip. Kennedy thanked +him for his courtesy, and we left apparently on the best of terms both with +Crafts and his assistant. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap33"></a>CHAPTER XXXIII<br/> +THE SEX CONTROL</h2> + +<p> +I did not see Kennedy again that day until late in the afternoon, when he came +into the laboratory carrying a small package. +</p> + +<p> +“Theory is one thing, practice is another,” he remarked, as he threw his hat +and coat into a chair. +</p> + +<p> +“Which means—in this case?” I prompted. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, I have just seen Atherton. Of course I didn’t repeat our conversation of +this morning, and I’m glad I didn’t. He almost makes me think you are right, +Walter. He’s obsessed by the fear of Burroughs. Why, he even told me that +Burroughs had gone so far as to take a leaf out of his book, so to speak, get +in touch with the Eugenics Bureau as if to follow his footsteps, but really to +pump them about Atherton himself. Atherton says it’s all Burroughs’ plan to +break his will and that the fellow has even gone so far as to cultivate the +acquaintance of Maude Schofield, knowing that he will get no sympathy from +Crafts.” +</p> + +<p> +“First it was Edith Atherton, now it is Maude Schofield that he hitches up with +Burroughs,” I commented. “Seems to me that I have heard that one of the first +signs of insanity is belief that everyone about the victim is conspiring +against him. I haven’t any love for any of them—but I must be fair.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said Kennedy, unwrapping the package, “there <i>is</i> this much to it. +Atherton says Burroughs and Maude Schofield have been seen together more than +once—and not at intellectual gatherings either. Burroughs is a fascinating +fellow to a woman, if he wants to be, and the Schofields are at least the +social equals of the Burroughs. Besides,” he added, “in spite of eugenics, +feminism, and all the rest—sex, like murder, will out. There’s no use having +any false ideas about <i>that</i>. Atherton may see red—but, then, he was quite +excited.” +</p> + +<p> +“Over what?” I asked, perplexed more than ever at the turn of events. +</p> + +<p> +“He called me up in the first place. ‘Can’t you do something?’ he implored. +‘Eugenia is getting worse all the time.’ She is, too. I saw her for a moment, +and she was even more vacant than yesterday.” +</p> + +<p> +The thought of the poor girl in the big house somehow brought over me again my +first impression of Poe’s story. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy had unwrapped the package which proved to be the instrument he had left +in the closet at Atherton’s. It was, as I had observed, like an ordinary wax +cylinder phonograph record. +</p> + +<p> +“You see,” explained Kennedy, “it is nothing more than a successful application +at last of, say, one of those phonographs you have seen in offices for taking +dictation, placed so that the feebler vibrations of the telephone affect it. +Let us see what we have here.” +</p> + +<p> +He had attached the cylinder to an ordinary phonograph, and after a number of +routine calls had been run off, he came to this, in voices which we could only +guess at but not recognize, for no names were used. +</p> + +<p> +“How is she to-day?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not much changed—perhaps not so well.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s all right, though. That is natural. It is working well. I think you might +increase the dose, one tablet.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re sure it is all right?” (with anxiety). +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, positively—it has been done in Europe.” +</p> + +<p> +“I hope so. It must be a boy—and an <i>Atherton</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +“Never fear.” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +That was all. Who was it? The voices were unfamiliar to me, especially when +repeated mechanically. Besides they may have been disguised. At any rate we had +learned something. Some one was trying to control the sex of the expected +Atherton heir. But that was about all. Who it was, we knew no better, +apparently, than before. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy did not seem to care much, however. Quickly he got Quincy Atherton on +the wire and arranged for Atherton to have Dr. Crafts meet us at the house at +eight o’clock that night, with Maude Schofield. Then he asked that Burroughs +Atherton be there, and of course, Edith and Eugenia. +</p> + +<p> +We arrived almost as the clock was striking, Kennedy carrying the phonograph +record and another blank record, and a boy tugging along the machine itself. +Dr. Crafts was the next to appear, expressing surprise at meeting us, and I +thought a bit annoyed, for he mentioned that it had been with reluctance that +he had had to give up some work he had planned for the evening. Maude +Schofield, who came with him, looked bored. Knowing that she disapproved of the +match with Eugenia, I was not surprised. Burroughs arrived, not as late as I +had expected, but almost insultingly supercilious at finding so many strangers +at what Atherton had told him was to be a family conference, in order to get +him to come. Last of all Edith Atherton descended the staircase, the +personification of dignity, bowing to each with a studied graciousness, as if +distributing largess, but greeting Burroughs with an air that plainly showed +how much thicker was blood than water. Eugenia remained upstairs, lethargic, +almost cataleptic, as Atherton told us when we arrived. +</p> + +<p> +“I trust you are not going to keep us long, Quincy,” yawned Burroughs, looking +ostentatiously at his watch. +</p> + +<p> +“Only long enough for Professor Kennedy to say a few words about Eugenia,” +replied Atherton nervously, bowing to Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy cleared his throat slowly. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know that I have much to say,” began Kennedy, still seated. “I suppose +Mr. Atherton has told you I have been much interested in the peculiar state of +health of Mrs. Atherton?” +</p> + +<p> +No one spoke, and he went on easily: “There is something I might say, however, +about the—er—what I call the chemistry of insanity. Among the present wonders +of science, as you doubtless know, none stirs the imagination so powerfully as +the doctrine that at least some forms of insanity are the result of chemical +changes in the blood. For instance, ill temper, intoxication, many things are +due to chemical changes in the blood acting on the brain. +</p> + +<p> +“Go further back. Take typhoid fever with its delirium, influenza with its +suicide mania. All due to toxins—poisons. Chemistry—chemistry—all of them +chemistry.” +</p> + +<p> +Craig had begun carefully so as to win their attention. He had it as he went +on: “Do we not brew within ourselves poisons which enter the circulation and +pervade the system? A sudden emotion upsets the chemistry of the body. Or +poisonous food. Or a drug. It affects many things. But we could never have had +this chemical theory unless we had had physiological chemistry—and some carry +it so far as to say that the brain secretes thought, just as the liver secretes +bile, that thoughts are the results of molecular changes.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are, then, a materialist of the most pronounced type,” asserted Dr. +Crafts. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy had been reaching over to a table, toying with the phonograph. As +Crafts spoke he moved a key, and I suspected that it was in order to catch the +words. +</p> + +<p> +“Not entirely,” he said. “No more than some eugenists.” +</p> + +<p> +“In our field,” put in Maude Schofield, “I might express the thought this +way—the sociologist has had his day; now it is the biologist, the eugenist.” +</p> + +<p> +“That expresses it,” commented Kennedy, still tinkering with the record. “Yet +it does not mean that because we have new ideas, they abolish the old. Often +they only explain, amplify, supplement. For instance,” he said, looking up at +Edith Atherton, “take heredity. Our knowledge seems new, but is it? Marriages +have always been dictated by a sort of eugenics. Society is founded on that.” +</p> + +<p> +“Precisely,” she answered. “The best families have always married into the best +families. These modern notions simply recognize what the best people have +always thought—except that it seems to me,” she added with a sarcastic +flourish, “people of no ancestry are trying to force themselves in among their +betters.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very true, Edith,” drawled Burroughs, “but we did not have to be brought here +by Quincy to learn that.” +</p> + +<p> +Quincy Atherton had risen during the discussion and had approached Kennedy. +Craig continued to finger the phonograph abstractedly, as he looked up. +</p> + +<p> +“About this—this insanity theory,” he whispered eagerly. “You think that the +suspicions I had have been justified?” +</p> + +<p> +I had been watching Kennedy’s hand. As soon as Atherton had started to speak, I +saw that Craig, as before, had moved the key, evidently registering what he +said, as he had in the case of the others during the discussion. +</p> + +<p> +“One moment, Atherton,” he whispered in reply, “I’m coming to that. Now,” he +resumed aloud, “there is a disease, or a number of diseases, to which my +remarks about insanity a while ago might apply very well. They have been known +for some time to arise from various affections of the thyroid glands in the +neck. These glands, strange to say, if acted on in certain ways can cause +degenerations of mind and body, which are well known, but in spite of much +study are still very little understood. For example, there is a definite +interrelation between them and sex—especially in woman.” +</p> + +<p> +Rapidly he sketched what he had already told me of the thyroid and the +hormones. “These hormones,” added Kennedy, “are closely related to many +reactions in the body, such as even the mother’s secretion of milk at the +proper time and then only. That and many other functions are due to the +presence and character of these chemical secretions from the thyroid and other +ductless glands. It is a fascinating study. For we know that anything that will +upset—reduce or increase—the hormones is a matter intimately concerned with +health. Such changes,” he said earnestly, leaning forward, “might be aimed +directly at the very heart of what otherwise would be a true eugenic marriage. +It is even possible that loss of sex itself might be made to follow deep +changes of the thyroid.” +</p> + +<p> +He stopped a moment. Even if he had accomplished nothing else he had struck a +note which had caused the Athertons to forget their former superciliousness. +</p> + +<p> +“If there is an oversupply of thyroid hormones,” continued Craig, “that excess +will produce many changes, for instance a condition very much like exophthalmic +goiter. And,” he said, straightening up, “I find that Eugenia Atherton has +within her blood an undue proportion of these thyroid hormones. Now, is it +overfunction of the glands, hyper-secretion—or is it something else?” +</p> + +<p> +No one moved as Kennedy skillfully led his disclosure along step by step. +</p> + +<p> +“That question,” he began again slowly, shifting his position in the chair, +“raises in my mind, at least, a question which has often occurred to me before. +Is it possible for a person, taking advantage of the scientific knowledge we +have gained, to devise and successfully execute a murder without fear of +discovery? In other words, can a person be removed with that technical nicety +of detail which will leave no clue and will be set down as something entirely +natural, though unfortunate?” +</p> + +<p> +It was a terrible idea he was framing, and he dwelt on it so that we might +accept it at its full value. “As one doctor has said,” he added, “although +toxicologists and chemists have not always possessed infallible tests for +practical use, it is at present a pretty certain observation that every poison +leaves its mark. But then on the other hand, students of criminology have said +that a skilled physician or surgeon is about the only person now capable of +carrying out a really scientific murder. +</p> + +<p> +“Which is true? It seems to me, at least in the latter case, that the very +nicety of the handiwork must often serve as a clue in itself. The trained hand +leaves the peculiar mark characteristic of its training. No matter how shrewdly +the deed is planned, the execution of it is daily becoming a more and more +difficult feat, thanks to our increasing knowledge of microbiology and +pathology.” +</p> + +<p> +He had risen, as he finished the sentence, every eye fixed on him, as if he had +been a master hypnotist. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps,” he said, taking off the cylinder from the phonograph and placing on +one which I knew was that which had lain in the library closet over night, +“perhaps some of the things I have said will explain or be explained by the +record on this cylinder.” +</p> + +<p> +He had started the machine. So magical was the effect on the little audience +that I am tempted to repeat what I had already heard, but had not myself yet +been able to explain: +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +“How is she to-day?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not much changed—perhaps not so well.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s all right, though. That is natural. It is working well. I think you might +increase the dose one tablet.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re sure it is all right?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, positively—it has been done in Europe.” +</p> + +<p> +“I hope so. It must be a boy—and an <i>Atherton</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +“Never fear.” +</p> + +<p> +No one moved a muscle. If there was anyone in the room guilty of playing on the +feelings and the health of an unfortunate woman, that person must have had +superb control of his own feelings. +</p> + +<p> +“As you know,” resumed Kennedy thoughtfully, “there are and have been many +theories of sex control. One of the latest, but by no means the only one, is +that it can be done by use of the extracts of various glands administered to +the mother. I do not know with what scientific authority it was stated, but I +do know that some one has recently said that adrenalin, derived from the +suprarenal glands, induces boys to develop—cholin, from the bile of the liver, +girls. It makes no difference—in this case. There may have been a show of +science. But it was to cover up a crime. Some one has been administering to +Eugenia Atherton tablets of thyroid extract—ostensibly to aid her in fulfilling +the dearest ambition of her soul—to become the mother of a new line of +Athertons which might bear the same relation to the future of the country as +the great family of the Edwards mothered by Elizabeth Tuttle.” +</p> + +<p> +He was bending over the two phonograph cylinders now, rapidly comparing the new +one which he had made and that which he had just allowed to reel off its +astounding revelation. +</p> + +<p> +“When a voice speaks into a phonograph,” he said, half to himself, “its +modulations received on the diaphragm are written by a needle point upon the +surface of a cylinder or disk in a series of fine waving or zigzag lines of +infinitely varying depth or breadth. Dr. Marage and others have been able to +distinguish vocal sounds by the naked eye on phonograph records. Mr. Edison has +studied them with the microscope in his world-wide search for the perfect +voice. +</p> + +<p> +“In fact, now it is possible to identify voices by the records they make, to +get at the precise meaning of each slightest variation of the lines with +mathematical accuracy. They can no more be falsified than handwriting can be +forged so that modern science cannot detect it or than typewriting can be +concealed and attributed to another machine. The voice is like a finger print, +a portrait parlé—unescapable.” +</p> + +<p> +He glanced up, then back again. “This microscope shows me,” he said, “that the +voices on that cylinder you heard are identical with two on this record which I +have just made in this room.” +</p> + +<p> +“Walter,” he said, motioning to me, “look.” +</p> + +<p> +I glanced into the eyepiece and saw a series of lines and curves, peculiar +waves lapping together and making an appearance in some spots almost like tooth +marks. Although I did not understand the details of the thing, I could readily +see that by study one might learn as much about it as about loops, whorls, and +arches on finger tips. +</p> + +<p> +“The upper and lower lines,” he explained, “with long regular waves, on that +highly magnified section of the record, are formed by the voice with no +overtones. The three lines in the middle, with rhythmic ripples, show the +overtones.” +</p> + +<p> +He paused a moment and faced us. “Many a person,” he resumed, “is a biotype in +whom a full complement of what are called inhibitions never develops. That is +part of your eugenics. Throughout life, and in spite of the best of training, +that person reacts now and then to a certain stimulus directly. A man stands +high; once a year he falls with a lethal quantity of alcohol. A woman, +brilliant, accomplished, slips away and spends a day with a lover as unlike +herself as can be imagined. +</p> + +<p> +“The voice that interests me most on these records,” he went on, emphasizing +the words with one of the cylinders which he still held, “is that of a person +who has been working on the family pride of another. That person has persuaded +the other to administer to Eugenia an extract because ‘it must be a boy and an +Atherton.’ That person is a high-class defective, born with a criminal +instinct, reacting to it in an artful way. Thank God, the love of a man whom +theoretical eugenics condemned, roused us in—” +</p> + +<p> +A cry at the door brought us all to our feet, with hearts thumping as if they +were bursting. +</p> + +<p> +It was Eugenia Atherton, wild-eyed, erect, staring. +</p> + +<p> +I stood aghast at the vision. Was she really to be the Lady Madeline in this +fall of the House of Atherton? +</p> + +<p> +“Edith—I—I missed you. I heard voices. Is—is it true—what this man—says? Is +my—my baby—” +</p> + +<p> +Quincy Atherton leaped forward and caught her as she reeled. Quickly Craig +threw open a window for air, and as he did so leaned far out and blew shrilly +on a police whistle. +</p> + +<p> +The young man looked up from Eugenia, over whom he was bending, scarcely +heeding what else went on about him. Still, there was no trace of anger on his +face, in spite of the great wrong that had been done him. There was room for +only one great emotion—only anxiety for the poor girl who had suffered so +cruelly merely for taking his name. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy saw the unspoken question in his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Eugenia is a pure normal, as Dr. Crafts told you,” he said gently. “A few +weeks, perhaps only days, of treatment—the thyroid will revert to its normal +state—and Eugenia Gilman will be the mother of a new house of Atherton which +may eclipse even the proud record of the founder of the old.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who blew the whistle?” demanded a gruff voice at the door, as a tall bluecoat +puffed past the scandalized butler. +</p> + +<p> +“Arrest that woman,” pointed Kennedy. “She is the poisoner. Either as wife of +Burroughs, whom she fascinates and controls as she does Edith, she planned to +break the will of Quincy or, in the other event, to administer the fortune as +head of the Eugenics Foundation after the death of Dr. Crafts, who would have +followed Eugenia and Quincy Atherton.” +</p> + +<p> +I followed the direction of Kennedy’s accusing finger. Maude Schofield’s face +betrayed more than even her tongue could have confessed. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap34"></a>CHAPTER XXXIV<br/> +THE BILLIONAIRE BABY</h2> + +<p> +Coming to us directly as a result of the talk that the Atherton case provoked +was another that involved the happiness of a wealthy family to a no less +degree. +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose you have heard of the ‘billionaire baby,’ Morton Hazleton III?” +asked Kennedy of me one afternoon shortly afterward. +</p> + +<p> +The mere mention of the name conjured up in my mind a picture of the lusty +two-year-old heir of two fortunes, as the feature articles in the <i>Star</i> +had described that little scion of wealth—his luxurious nursery, his +magnificent toys, his own motor car, a trained nurse and a detective on guard +every hour of the day and night, every possible precaution for his health and +safety. +</p> + +<p> +“Gad, what a lucky kid!” I exclaimed involuntarily. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I don’t know about that,” put in Kennedy. “The fortune may be exaggerated. +His happiness is, I’m sure.” +</p> + +<p> +He had pulled from his pocketbook a card and handed it to me. It read: “Gilbert +Butler, American representative, Lloyd’s.” +</p> + +<p> +“Lloyd’s?” I queried. “What has Lloyd’s to do with the billion-dollar baby?” +</p> + +<p> +“Very much. The child has been insured with them for some fabulous sum against +accident, including kidnaping.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes?” I prompted, “sensing” a story. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, there seem to have been threats of some kind, I understand. Mr. Butler +has called on me once already to-day to retain my services and is going +to—ah—there he is again now.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy had answered the door buzzer himself, and Mr. Butler, a tall, +sloping-shouldered Englishman, entered. +</p> + +<p> +“Has anything new developed?” asked Kennedy, introducing me. +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t say,” replied Butler dubiously. “I rather think we have found +something that may have a bearing on the case. You know Miss Haversham, +Veronica Haversham?” +</p> + +<p> +“The actress and professional beauty? Yes—at least I have seen her. Why?” +</p> + +<p> +“We hear that Morton Hazleton knows her, anyhow,” remarked Butler dryly. +</p> + +<p> +“Well?” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you don’t know the gossip?” he cut in. “She is said to be in a sanitarium +near the city. I’ll have to find that out for you. It’s a fast set she has been +traveling with lately, including not only Hazleton, but Dr. Maudsley, the +Hazleton physician, and one or two others, who if they were poorer might be +called desperate characters.” +</p> + +<p> +“Does Mrs. Hazleton know of—of his reputed intimacy?” +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t say that, either. I presume that she is no fool.” +</p> + +<p> +Morton Hazleton, Jr., I knew, belonged to a rather smart group of young men. He +had been mentioned in several near-scandals, but as far as I knew there had +been nothing quite as public and definite as this one. +</p> + +<p> +“Wouldn’t that account for her fears?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Hardly,” replied Butler, shaking his head. “You see, Mrs. Hazleton is a +nervous wreck, but it’s about the baby, and caused, she says, by her fears for +its safety. It came to us only in a roundabout way, through a servant in the +house who keeps us in touch. The curious feature is that we can seem to get +nothing definite from her about her fears. They may be groundless.” +</p> + +<p> +Butler shrugged his shoulders and proceeded, “And they may be well-founded. But +we prefer to run no chances in a case of this kind. The child, you know, is +guarded in the house. In his perambulator he is doubly guarded, and when he +goes out for his airing in the automobile, two men, the chauffeur and a +detective, are always there, besides his nurse, and often his mother or +grandmother. Even in the nursery suite they have iron shutters which can be +pulled down and padlocked at night and are constructed so as to give plenty of +fresh air even to a scientific baby. Master Hazleton was the best sort of risk, +we thought. But now—we don’t know.” +</p> + +<p> +“You can protect yourselves, though,” suggested Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, we have, under the policy, the right to take certain measures to protect +ourselves in addition to the precautions taken by the Hazletons. We have added +our own detective to those already on duty. But we—we don’t know what to guard +against,” he concluded, perplexed. “We’d like to know—that’s all. It’s too big +a risk.” +</p> + +<p> +“I may see Mrs. Hazleton?” mused Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. Under the circumstances she can scarcely refuse to see anyone we send. +I’ve arranged already for you to meet her within an hour. Is that all right?” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly.” +</p> + +<p> +The Hazleton home in winter in the city was uptown, facing the river. The large +grounds adjoining made the Hazletons quite independent of the daily infant +parade which one sees along Riverside Drive. +</p> + +<p> +As we entered the grounds we could almost feel the very atmosphere on guard. We +did not see the little subject of so much concern, but I remembered his much +heralded advent, when his grandparents had settled a cold million on him, just +as a reward for coming into the world. Evidently, Morton, Sr., had hoped that +Morton, Jr., would calm down, now that there was a third generation to +consider. It seemed that he had not. I wondered if that had really been the +occasion of the threats or whatever it was that had caused Mrs. Hazleton’s +fears, and whether Veronica Haversham or any of the fast set around her had had +anything to do with it. +</p> + +<p> +Millicent Hazleton was a very pretty little woman, in whom one saw +instinctively the artistic temperament. She had been an actress, too, when +young Morton Hazleton married her, and at first, at least, they had seemed very +devoted to each other. +</p> + +<p> +We were admitted to see her in her own library, a tastefully furnished room on +the second floor of the house, facing a garden at the side. +</p> + +<p> +“Mrs. Hazleton,” began Butler, smoothing the way for us, “of course you realize +that we are working in your interests. Professor Kennedy, therefore, in a +sense, represents both of us.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am quite sure I shall be delighted to help you,” she said with an absent +expression, though not ungraciously. +</p> + +<p> +Butler, having introduced us, courteously withdrew. “I leave this entirely in +your hands,” he said, as he excused himself. “If you want me to do anything +more, call on me.” +</p> + +<p> +I must say that I was much surprised at the way she had received us. Was there +in it, I wondered, an element of fear lest if she refused to talk suspicion +might grow even greater? One could see anxiety plainly enough on her face, as +she waited for Kennedy to begin. +</p> + +<p> +A few moments of general conversation then followed. +</p> + +<p> +“Just what is it you fear?” he asked, after having gradually led around to the +subject. “Have there been any threatening letters?” +</p> + +<p> +“N-no,” she hesitated, “at least nothing—definite.” +</p> + +<p> +“Gossip?” he hinted. +</p> + +<p> +“No.” She said it so positively that I fancied it might be taken for a plain +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then what is it?” he asked, very deferentially, but firmly. +</p> + +<p> +She had been looking out at the garden. “You couldn’t understand,” she +remarked. “No detective—” she stopped. +</p> + +<p> +“You may be sure, Mrs. Hazleton, that I have not come here unnecessarily to +intrude,” he reassured her. “It is exactly as Mr. Butler put it. We—want to +help you.” +</p> + +<p> +I fancied there seemed to be something compelling about his manner. It was at +once sympathetic and persuasive. Quite evidently he was taking pains to break +down the prejudice in her mind which she had already shown toward the ordinary +detective. +</p> + +<p> +“You would think me crazy,” she remarked slowly. “But it is just a—a dream—just +dreams.” +</p> + +<p> +I don’t think she had intended to say anything, for she stopped short and +looked at him quickly as if to make sure whether he could understand. As for +myself, I must say I felt a little skeptical. To my surprise, Kennedy seemed to +take the statement at its face value. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah,” he remarked, “an anxiety dream? You will pardon me, Mrs. Hazleton, but +before we go further let me tell you frankly that I am much more than an +ordinary detective. If you will permit me, I should rather have you think of me +as a psychologist, a specialist, one who has come to set your mind at rest +rather than to worm things from you by devious methods against which you have +to be on guard. It is just for such an unusual case as yours that Mr. Butler +has called me in. By the way, as our interview may last a few minutes, would +you mind sitting down? I think you’ll find it easier to talk if you can get +your mind perfectly at rest, and for the moment trust to the nurse and the +detectives who are guarding the garden, I am sure, perfectly.” +</p> + +<p> +She had been standing by the window during the interview and was quite +evidently growing more and more nervous. With a bow Kennedy placed her at her +ease on a chaise lounge. +</p> + +<p> +“Now,” he continued, standing near her, but out of sight, “you must try to +remain free from all external influences and impressions. Don’t move. Avoid +every use of a muscle. Don’t let anything distract you. Just concentrate your +attention on your psychic activities. Don’t suppress one idea as unimportant, +irrelevant, or nonsensical. Simply tell me what occurs to you in connection +with the dreams—everything,” emphasized Craig. +</p> + +<p> +I could not help feeling surprised to find that she accepted Kennedy’s +deferential commands, for after all that was what they amounted to. Almost I +felt that she was turning to him for help, that he had broken down some barrier +to her confidence. He seemed to exert a sort of hypnotic influence over her. +</p> + +<p> +“I have had cases before which involved dreams,” he was saying quietly and +reassuringly. “Believe me, I do not share the world’s opinion that dreams are +nothing. Nor yet do I believe in them superstitiously. I can readily understand +how a dream can play a mighty part in shaping the feelings of a high-tensioned +woman. Might I ask exactly what it is you fear in your dreams?” +</p> + +<p> +She sank her head back in the cushions, and for a moment closed her eyes, half +in weariness, half in tacit obedience to him. “Oh, I have such horrible +dreams,” she said at length, “full of anxiety and fear for Morton and little +Morton. I can’t explain it. But they are so horrible.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy said nothing. She was talking freely at last. +</p> + +<p> +“Only last night,” she went on, “I dreamt that Morton was dead. I could see the +funeral, all the preparations, and the procession. It seemed that in the crowd +there was a woman. I could not see her face, but she had fallen down and the +crowd was around her. Then Dr. Maudsley appeared. Then all of a sudden the +dream changed. I thought I was on the sand, at the seashore, or perhaps a lake. +I was with Junior and it seemed as if he were wading in the water, his head +bobbing up and down in the waves. It was like a desert, too—the sand. I turned, +and there was a lion behind me. I did not seem to be afraid of him, although I +was so close that I could almost feel his shaggy mane. Yet I feared that he +might bite Junior. The next I knew I was running with the child in my arms. I +escaped—and—oh, the relief!” +</p> + +<p> +She sank back, half exhausted, half terrified still by the recollection. +</p> + +<p> +“In your dream when Dr. Maudsley appeared,” asked Kennedy, evidently interested +in filling in the gap, “what did he do?” +</p> + +<p> +“Do?” she repeated. “In the dream? Nothing.” +</p> + +<p> +“Are you sure?” he asked, shooting a quick glance at her. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. That part of the dream became indistinct. I’m sure he did nothing, except +shoulder through the crowd. I think he had just entered. Then that part of the +dream seemed to end and the second part began.” +</p> + +<p> +Piece by piece Kennedy went over it, putting it together as if it were a +mosaic. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, the woman. You say her face was hidden?” +</p> + +<p> +She hesitated. “N—no. I saw it. But it was no one I knew.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy did not dwell on the contradiction, but added, “And the crowd?” +</p> + +<p> +“Strangers, too.” +</p> + +<p> +“Dr. Maudsley is your family physician?” he questioned. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did he call—er—yesterday?” +</p> + +<p> +“He calls every day to supervise the nurse who has Junior in charge.” +</p> + +<p> +“Could one always be true to oneself in the face of any temptation?” he asked +suddenly. +</p> + +<p> +It was a bold question. Yet such had been the gradual manner of his leading up +to it that, before she knew it, she had answered quite frankly, “Yes—if one +always thought of home and her child, I cannot see how one could help +controlling herself.” +</p> + +<p> +She seemed to catch her breath, almost as though the words had escaped her +before she knew it. +</p> + +<p> +“Is there anything besides your dream that alarms you,” he asked, changing the +subject quickly, “any suspicion of—say the servants?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” she said, watching him now. “But some time ago we caught a burglar +upstairs here. He managed to escape. That has made me nervous. I didn’t think +it was possible.” +</p> + +<p> +“Anything else?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” she said positively, this time on her guard. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy saw that she had made up her mind to say no more. +</p> + +<p> +“Mrs. Hazleton,” he said, rising. “I can hardly thank you too much for the +manner in which you have met my questions. It will make it much easier for me +to quiet your fears. And if anything else occurs to you, you may rest assured I +shall violate no confidences in your telling me.” +</p> + +<p> +I could not help the feeling, however, that there was just a little air of +relief on her face as we left. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap35"></a>CHAPTER XXXV<br/> +THE PSYCHANALYSIS</h2> + +<p> +“H-m,” mused Kennedy as we walked along after leaving the house. “There were +several ‘complexes,’ as they are called, there—the most interesting and +important being the erotic, as usual. Now, take the lion in the dream, with his +mane. That, I suspect, was Dr. Maudsley. If you are acquainted with him, you +will recall his heavy, almost tawny beard.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy seemed to be revolving something in his mind and I did not interrupt. I +had known him too long to feel that even a dream might not have its value with +him. Indeed, several times before he had given me glimpses into the fascinating +possibilities of the new psychology. +</p> + +<p> +“In spite of the work of thousands of years, little progress has been made in +the scientific understanding of dreams,” he remarked a few moments later. +“Freud, of Vienna—you recall the name?—has done most, I think in that +direction.” +</p> + +<p> +I recalled something of the theories of the Freudists, but said nothing. +</p> + +<p> +“It is an unpleasant feature of his philosophy,” he went on, “but Freud finds +the conclusion irresistible that all humanity underneath the shell is sensuous +and sensual in nature. Practically all dreams betray some delight of the senses +and sexual dreams are a large proportion. There is, according to the theory, +always a wish hidden or expressed in a dream. The dream is one of three things, +the open, the disguised or the distorted fulfillment of a wish, sometimes +recognized, sometimes repressed. +</p> + +<p> +“Anxiety dreams are among the most interesting and important Anxiety may +originate in psycho-sexual excitement, the repressed libido, as the Freudists +call it. Neurotic fear has its origin in sexual life and corresponds to a +libido which has been turned away from its object and has not succeeded in +being applied. All so-called day dreams of women are erotic; of men they are +either ambition or love. +</p> + +<p> +“Often dreams, apparently harmless, turn out to be sinister if we take pains to +interpret them. All have the mark of the beast. For example, there was that +unknown woman who had fallen down and was surrounded by a crowd. If a woman +dreams that, it is sexual. It can mean only a fallen woman. That is the +symbolism. The crowd always denotes a secret. +</p> + +<p> +“Take also the dream of death. If there is no sorrow felt, then there is +another cause for it. But if there is sorrow, then the dreamer really desires +death or absence. I expect to have you quarrel with that. But read Freud, and +remember that in childhood death is synonymous with being away. Thus for +example, if a girl dreams that her mother is dead, perhaps it means only that +she wishes her away so that she can enjoy some pleasure that her strict parent, +by her presence, denies. +</p> + +<p> +“Then there was that dream about the baby in the water. That, I think, was a +dream of birth. You see, I asked her practically to repeat the dreams because +there were several gaps. At such points one usually finds first hesitation, +then something that shows one of the main complexes. Perhaps the subject grows +angry at the discovery. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, from the tangle of the dream thought, I find that she fears that her +husband is too intimate with another woman, and that perhaps unconsciously she +has turned to Dr. Maudsley for sympathy. Dr. Maudsley, as I said, is not only +bearded, but somewhat of a social lion. He had called on her the day before. Of +such stuff are all dream lions when there is no fear. But she shows that she +has been guilty of no wrongdoing—she escaped, and felt relieved.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m glad of that,” I put in. “I don’t like these scandals. On the <i>Star</i> +when I have to report them, I do it always under protest. I don’t know what +your psychanalysis is going to show in the end, but I for one have the greatest +sympathy for that poor little woman in the big house alone, surrounded by and +dependent on servants, while her husband is out collecting scandals.” +</p> + +<p> +“Which suggests our next step,” he said, turning the subject. “I hope that +Butler has found out the retreat of Veronica Haversham.” +</p> + +<p> +We discovered Miss Haversham at last at Dr. Klemm’s sanitarium, up in the hills +of Westchester County, a delightful place with a reputation for its rest cures. +Dr. Klemm was an old friend of Kennedy’s, having had some connection with the +medical school at the University. +</p> + +<p> +She had gone up there rather suddenly, it seemed, to recuperate. At least that +was what was given out, though there seemed to be much mystery about her, and +she was taking no treatment as far as was known. +</p> + +<p> +“Who is her physician?” asked Kennedy of Dr. Klemm as we sat in his luxurious +office. +</p> + +<p> +“A Dr. Maudsley of the city.” +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy glanced quickly at me in time to check an exclamation. +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder if I could see her?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, of course—if she is willing,” replied Dr. Klemm. +</p> + +<p> +“I will have to have some excuse,” ruminated Kennedy. “Tell her I am a +specialist in nervous troubles from the city, have been visiting one of the +other patients, anything.” +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Klemm pulled down a switch on a large oblong oak box on his desk, asked for +Miss Haversham, and waited a moment. +</p> + +<p> +“What is that?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“A vocaphone,” replied Kennedy. “This sanitarium is quite up to date, Klemm.” +</p> + +<p> +The doctor nodded and smiled. “Yes, Kennedy,” he replied. “Communicating with +every suite of rooms we have the vocaphone. I find it very convenient to have +these microphones, as I suppose you would call them, catching your words +without talking into them directly as you have to do in the telephone and then +at the other end emitting the words without the use of an earpiece, from the +box itself, as if from a megaphone horn. Miss Haversham, this is Dr. Klemm. +There is a Dr. Kennedy here visiting another patient, a specialist from New +York. He’d like very much to see you if you can spare a few minutes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Tell him to come up.” The voice seemed to come from the vocaphone as though +she were in the room with us. +</p> + +<p> +Veronica Haversham was indeed wonderful, one of the leading figures in the +night life of New York, a statuesque brunette of striking beauty, though I had +heard of often ungovernable temper. Yet there was something strange about her +face here. It seemed perhaps a little yellow, and I am sure that her nose had a +peculiar look as if she were suffering from an incipient rhinitis. The pupils +of her eyes were as fine as pin heads, her eyebrows were slightly elevated. +Indeed, I felt that she had made no mistake in taking a rest if she would +preserve the beauty which had made her popularity so meteoric. +</p> + +<p> +“Miss Haversham,” began Kennedy, “they tell me that you are suffering from +nervousness. Perhaps I can help you. At any rate it will do no harm to try. I +know Dr. Maudsley well, and if he doesn’t approve—well, you may throw the +treatment into the waste basket.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sure I have no reason to refuse,” she said. “What would you suggest?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, first of all, there is a very simple test I’d like to try. You won’t +find that it bothers you in the least—and if I can’t help you, then no harm is +done.” +</p> + +<p> +Again I watched Kennedy as he tactfully went through the preparations for +another kind of psychanalysis, placing Miss Haversham at her ease on a +davenport in such a way that nothing would distract her attention. As she +reclined against the leather pillows in the shadow it was not difficult to +understand the lure by which she held together the little coterie of her +intimates. One beautiful white arm, bare to the elbow, hung carelessly over the +edge of the davenport, displaying a plain gold bracelet. +</p> + +<p> +“Now,” began Kennedy, on whom I knew the charms of Miss Haversham produced a +negative effect, although one would never have guessed it from his manner, “as +I read off from this list of words, I wish that you would repeat the first +thing, anything,” he emphasized, “that comes into your head, no matter how +trivial it may seem. Don’t force yourself to think. Let your ideas flow +naturally. It depends altogether on your paying attention to the words and +answering as quickly as you can—remember, the first word that comes into your +mind. It is easy to do. We’ll call it a game,” he reassured. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy handed a copy of the list to me to record the answers. There must have +been some fifty words, apparently senseless, chosen at random, it seemed. They +were: +</p> + +<table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + +<tr> +<td>head</td><td>to dance</td><td>salt</td><td>white</td><td>lie</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td>green</td><td>sick</td><td>new</td><td>child</td><td>to fear</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td>water</td><td>pride</td><td>to pray</td><td>sad</td><td>stork</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td>to sing</td><td>ink</td><td>money</td><td>to marry</td><td>false</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td>death</td><td>angry</td><td>foolish</td><td>dear</td><td>anxiety</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td>long</td><td>needle</td><td>despise</td><td>to quarrel</td><td>to kiss</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td>ship</td><td>voyage</td><td>finger</td><td>old</td><td>bride</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td>to pay</td><td>to sin</td><td>expensive</td><td>family</td><td>pure</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td>window</td><td>bread</td><td>to fall</td><td>friend</td><td>ridicule</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td>cold</td><td>rich</td><td>unjust</td><td>luck</td><td>to sleep</td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<p> +“The Jung association word test is part of the Freud psychanalysis, also,” he +whispered to me, “You remember we tried something based on the same idea once +before?” +</p> + +<p> +I nodded. I had heard of the thing in connection with blood-pressure tests, but +not this way. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy called out the first word, “Head,” while in his hand he held a stop +watch which registered to one-fifth of a second. +</p> + +<p> +Quickly she replied, “Ache,” with an involuntary movement of her hand toward +her beautiful forehead. +</p> + +<p> +“Good,” exclaimed Kennedy. “You seem to grasp the idea better than most of my +patients.” +</p> + +<p> +I had recorded the answer, he the time, and we found out, I recall afterward, +that the time averaged something like two and two-fifths seconds. +</p> + +<p> +I thought her reply to the second word, “green,” was curious. It came quickly, +“Envy.” +</p> + +<p> +However, I shall not attempt to give all the replies, but merely some of the +most significant. There did not seem to be any hesitation about most of the +words, but whenever Kennedy tried to question her about a word that seemed to +him interesting she made either evasive or hesitating answers, until it became +evident that in the back of her head was some idea which she was repressing and +concealing from us, something that she set off with a mental “No Thoroughfare.” +</p> + +<p> +He had finished going through the list, and Kennedy was now studying over the +answers and comparing the time records. +</p> + +<p> +“Now,” he said at length, running his eye over the words again, “I want to +repeat the performance. Try to remember and duplicate your first replies,” he +said. +</p> + +<p> +Again we went through what at first had seemed to me to be a solemn farce, but +which I began to see was quite important. Sometimes she would repeat the answer +exactly as before. At other times a new word would occur to her. Kennedy was +keen to note all the differences in the two lists. +</p> + +<p> +One which I recall because the incident made an impression on me had to do with +the trio, “Death—life—inevitable.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why that?” he asked casually. +</p> + +<p> +“Haven’t you ever heard the saying, ‘One should let nothing which one can have +escape, even if a little wrong is done; no opportunity should be missed; life +is so short, death inevitable’?” +</p> + +<p> +There were several others which to Kennedy seemed more important, but long +after we had finished I pondered this answer. Was that her philosophy of life? +Undoubtedly she would never have remembered the phrase if it had not been so, +at least in a measure. +</p> + +<p> +She had begun to show signs of weariness, and Kennedy quickly brought the +conversation around to subjects of apparently a general nature, but skillfully +contrived so as to lead the way along lines her answers had indicated. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy had risen to go, still chatting. Almost unintentionally he picked up +from a dressing table a bottle of white tablets, without a label, shaking it to +emphasize an entirely, and I believe purposely, irrelevant remark. +</p> + +<p> +“By the way,” he said, breaking off naturally, “what is that?” +</p> + +<p> +“Only something Dr. Maudsley had prescribed for me,” she answered quickly. +</p> + +<p> +As he replaced the bottle and went on with the thread of the conversation, I +saw that in shaking the bottle he had abstracted a couple of the tablets before +she realized it. “I can’t tell you just what to do without thinking the case +over,” he concluded, rising to go. “Yours is a peculiar case, Miss Haversham, +baffling. I’ll have to study it over, perhaps ask Dr. Maudsley If I may see you +again. Meanwhile, I am sure what he is doing is the correct thing.” +</p> + +<p> +Inasmuch as she had said nothing about what Dr. Maudsley was doing, I wondered +whether there was not just a trace of suspicion in her glance at him from under +her long dark lashes. +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t see that you have done anything,” she remarked pointedly. “But then +doctors are queer—queer.” +</p> + +<p> +That parting shot also had in it, for me, something to ponder over. In fact I +began to wonder if she might not be a great deal more clever than even Kennedy +gave her credit for being, whether she might not have submitted to his tests +for pure love of pulling the wool over his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +Downstairs again, Kennedy paused only long enough to speak a few words with his +friend Dr. Klemm. +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose you have no idea what Dr. Maudsley has prescribed for her?” he asked +carelessly. +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing, as far as I know, except rest and simple food.” +</p> + +<p> +He seemed to hesitate, then he said under his voice, “I suppose you know that +she is a regular dope fiend, seasons her cigarettes with opium, and all that.” +</p> + +<p> +“I guessed as much,” remarked Kennedy, “but how does she get it here?” +</p> + +<p> +“She doesn’t.” +</p> + +<p> +“I see,” remarked Craig, apparently weighing now the man before him. At length +he seemed to decide to risk something. +</p> + +<p> +“Klemm,” he said, “I wish you would do something for me. I see you have the +vocaphone here. Now if—say Hazleton—should call—will you listen in on that +vocaphone for me?” Dr. Klemm looked squarely at him. +</p> + +<p> +“Kennedy,” he said, “it’s unprofessional, but—-” +</p> + +<p> +“So it is to let her be doped up under guise of a cure.” +</p> + +<p> +“What?” he asked, startled. “She’s getting the stuff now?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I didn’t say she was getting opium, or from anyone here. All the same, if +you would just keep an ear open—-” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s unprofessional, but—you’d not ask it without a good reason. I’ll try.” +</p> + +<p> +It was very late when we got back to the city and we dined at an uptown +restaurant which we had almost to ourselves. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy had placed the little whitish tablets in a small paper packet for safe +keeping. As we waited for our order he drew one from his pocket, and after +looking at it a moment crushed it to a powder in the paper. +</p> + +<p> +“What is it?” I asked curiously. “Cocaine?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” he said, shaking his head doubtfully. +</p> + +<p> +He had tried to dissolve a little of the powder in some water from the glass +before him, but it would not dissolve. +</p> + +<p> +As he continued to look at it his eye fell on the cut-glass vinegar cruet +before us. It was full of the white vinegar. +</p> + +<p> +“Really acetic acid,” he remarked, pouring out a little. +</p> + +<p> +The white powder dissolved. +</p> + +<p> +For several minutes he continued looking at the stuff. +</p> + +<p> +“That, I think,” he remarked finally, “is heroin.” +</p> + +<p> +“More ‘happy dust’?” I replied with added interest now, thinking of our +previous case. “Is the habit so extensive?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he replied, “the habit is comparatively new, although in Paris, I +believe, they call the drug fiends, ‘heroinomaniacs.’ It is, as I told you +before, a derivative of morphine. Its scientific name is diacetyl-morphin. It +is New York’s newest peril, one of the most dangerous drugs yet. Thousands are +slaves to it, although its sale is supposedly restricted. It is rotting the +heart out of the Tenderloin. Did you notice Veronica Haversham’s yellowish +whiteness, her down-drawn mouth, elevated eyebrows, and contracted eyes? She +may have taken it up to escape other drugs. Some people have—and have just got +a new habit. It can be taken hypodermically, or in a tablet, or by powdering +the tablet to a white crystalline powder and snuffing up the nose. That’s the +way she takes it. It produces rhinitis of the nasal passages, which I see you +observed, but did not understand. It has a more profound effect than morphine, +and is ten times as powerful as codeine. And one of the worst features is that +so many people start with it, thinking it is as harmless as it has been +advertised. I wouldn’t be surprised if she used from seventy-five to a hundred +one-twelfth grain tablets a day. Some of them do, you know.” +</p> + +<p> +“And Dr. Maudsley,” I asked quickly, “do you think it is through him or in +spite of him?” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s what I’d like to know. About those words,” he continued, “what did you +make of the list and the answers?” +</p> + +<p> +I had made nothing and said so, rather quickly. +</p> + +<p> +“Those,” he explained, “were words selected and arranged to strike almost all +the common complexes in analyzing and diagnosing. You’d think any intelligent +person could give a fluent answer to them, perhaps a misleading answer. But try +it yourself, Walter. You’ll find you can’t. You may start all right, but not +all the words will be reacted to in the same time or with the same smoothness +and ease. Yet, like the expressions of a dream, they often seem senseless. But +they have a meaning as soon as they are ‘psychanalyzed.’ All the mistakes in +answering the second time, for example, have a reason, if we can only get at +it. They are not arbitrary answers, but betray the inmost subconscious +thoughts, those things marked, split off from consciousness and repressed into +the unconscious. Associations, like dreams, never lie. You may try to conceal +the emotions and unconscious actions, but you can’t.” +</p> + +<p> +I listened, fascinated by Kennedy’s explanation. +</p> + +<p> +“Anyone can see that that woman has something on her mind besides the heroin +habit. It may be that she is trying to shake the habit off in order to do it; +it may be that she seeks relief from her thoughts by refuge in the habit; and +it may be that some one has purposely caused her to contract this new habit in +the guise of throwing off an old. The only way by which to find out is to study +the case.” +</p> + +<p> +He paused. He had me keenly on edge, but I knew that he was not yet in a +position to answer his queries positively. +</p> + +<p> +“Now I found,” he went on, “that the religious complexes were extremely few; as +I expected the erotic were many. If you will look over the three lists you will +find something queer about every such word as, ‘child, ‘to marry,’ ‘bride,’ ‘to +lie,’ ‘stork,’ and so on. We’re on the right track. That woman does know +something about that child.” +</p> + +<p> +“My eye catches the words ‘to sin,’ ‘to fall,’ ‘pure,’ and others,” I remarked, +glancing over the list. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, there’s something there, too. I got the hint for the drug from her +hesitation over ‘needle’ and ‘white.’ But the main complex has to do with words +relating to that child and to love. In short, I think we are going to find it +to be the reverse of the rule of the French, that it will be a case of +‘cherchez l’homme.’” +</p> + +<p> +Early the next day Kennedy, after a night of studying over the case, journeyed +up to the sanitarium again. We found Dr. Klemm eager to meet us. +</p> + +<p> +“What is it?” asked Kennedy, equally eager. +</p> + +<p> +“I overheard some surprising things over the vocaphone,” he hastened. “Hazleton +called. Why, there must have been some wild orgies in that precious set of +theirs, and, would you believe it, many of them seem to have been at what Dr. +Maudsley calls his ‘stable studio,’ a den he has fixed up artistically over his +garage on a side street.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed?” +</p> + +<p> +“I couldn’t get it all, but I did hear her repeating over and over to Hazleton, +‘Aren’t you all mine? Aren’t you all mine?’ There must be some vague jealousy +lurking in the heart of that ardent woman. I can’t figure it out.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’d like to see her again,” remarked Kennedy. “Will you ask her if I may?” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap36"></a>CHAPTER XXXVI<br/> +THE ENDS OF JUSTICE</h2> + +<p> +A few minutes later we were in the sitting room of her suite. She received us +rather ungraciously, I thought. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you feel any better?” asked Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” she replied curtly. “Excuse me for a moment. I wish to see that maid of +mine. Clarisse!” +</p> + +<p> +She had hardly left the room when Kennedy was on his feet. The bottle of white +tablets, nearly empty, was still on the table. I saw him take some very fine +white powder and dust it quickly over the bottle. It seemed to adhere, and from +his pocket he quickly drew a piece of what seemed to be specially prepared +paper, laid it over the bottle where the powder adhered, fitting it over the +curves. He withdrew it quickly, for outside we heard her light step, returning. +I am sure she either saw or suspected that Kennedy had been touching the bottle +of tablets, for there was a look of startled fear on her face. +</p> + +<p> +“Then you do not feel like continuing the tests we abandoned last night?” asked +Kennedy, apparently not noticing her look. +</p> + +<p> +“No, I do not,” she almost snapped. “You—you are detectives. Mrs. Hazleton has +sent you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed, Mrs. Hazleton has not sent us,” insisted Kennedy, never for an instant +showing his surprise at her mention of the name. +</p> + +<p> +“You are. You can tell her, you can tell everybody. I’ll tell—I’ll tell myself. +I won’t wait. That child is mine—mine—not hers. Now—go!” +</p> + +<p> +Veronica Haversham on the stage never towered in a fit of passion as she did +now in real life, as her ungovernable feelings broke forth tempestuously on us. +</p> + +<p> +I was astounded, bewildered at the revelation, the possibilities in those +simple words, “The child is mine.” For a moment I was stunned. Then as the full +meaning dawned on me I wondered in a flood of consciousness whether it was +true. Was it the product of her drug-disordered brain? Had her desperate love +for Hazleton produced a hallucination? +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy, silent, saw that the case demanded quick action. I shall never forget +the breathless ride down from the sanitarium to the Hazleton house on Riverside +Drive. +</p> + +<p> +“Mrs. Hazleton,” he cried, as we hurried in, “you will pardon me for this +unceremonious intrusion, but it is most important. May I trouble you to place +your fingers on this paper—so?” +</p> + +<p> +He held out to her a piece of the prepared paper. She looked at him once, then +saw from his face that he was not to be questioned. Almost tremulously she did +as he said, saying not a word. I wondered whether she knew the story of +Veronica, or whether so far only hints of it had been brought to her. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you,” he said quickly. “Now, if I may see Morton?” +</p> + +<p> +It was the first time we had seen the baby about whom the rapidly thickening +events were crowding. He was a perfect specimen of well-cared-for, scientific +infant. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy took the little chubby fingers playfully in his own. He seemed at once +to win the child’s confidence, though he may have violated scientific rules. +One by one he pressed the little fingers on the paper, until little Morton +crowed with delight as one little piggy after another “went to market.” He had +deserted thousands of dollars’ worth of toys just to play with the simple piece +of paper Kennedy had brought with him. As I looked at him, I thought of what +Kennedy had said at the start. Perhaps this innocent child was not to be envied +after all. I could hardly restrain my excitement over the astounding situation +which had suddenly developed. +</p> + +<p> +“That will do,” announced Kennedy finally, carelessly folding up the paper and +slipping it into his pocket. “You must excuse me now.” +</p> + +<p> +“You see,” he explained on the way to the laboratory, “that powder adheres to +fresh finger prints, taking all the gradations. Then the paper with its +paraffine and glycerine coating takes off the powder.” +</p> + +<p> +In the laboratory he buried himself in work, with microscope compasses, +calipers, while I fumed impotently at the window. +</p> + +<p> +“Walter,” he called suddenly, “get Dr. Maudsley on the telephone. Tell him to +come immediately to the laboratory.” +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile Kennedy was busy arranging what he had discovered in logical order +and putting on it the finishing touches. +</p> + +<p> +As Dr. Maudsley entered Kennedy greeted him and began by plunging directly into +the case in answer to his rather discourteous inquiry as to why he had been so +hastily summoned. +</p> + +<p> +“Dr. Maudsley,” said Craig, “I have asked you to call alone because, while I am +on the verge of discovering the truth in an important case affecting Morton +Hazleton and his wife, I am frankly perplexed as to how to go ahead.” +</p> + +<p> +The doctor seemed to shake with excitement as Kennedy proceeded. +</p> + +<p> +“Dr. Maudsley,” Craig added, dropping his voice, “is Morton III the son of +Millicent Hazleton or not? You were the physician in attendance on her at the +birth. Is he?” +</p> + +<p> +Maudsley had been watching Kennedy furtively at first, but as he rapped out the +words I thought the doctor’s eyes would pop out of his head. Perspiration in +great beads collected on his face. +</p> + +<p> +“P—professor K—Kennedy,” he muttered, frantically rubbing his face and lower +jaw as if to compose the agitation he could so ill conceal, “let me explain.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes—go on,” urged Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +“Mrs. Hazleton’s baby was born—dead. I knew how much she and the rest of the +family had longed for an heir, how much it meant. And I—substituted for the +dead child a newborn baby from the maternity hospital. It—it belonged to +Veronica Haversham—then a poor chorus girl. I did not intend that she should +ever know it. I intended that she should think her baby was dead. But in some +way she found out. Since then she has become a famous beauty, has numbered +among her friends even Hazleton himself. For nearly two years I have tried to +keep her from divulging the secret. From time to time hints of it have leaked +out. I knew that if Hazleton with his infatuation of her were to learn—-” +</p> + +<p> +“And Mrs. Hazleton, has she been told?” interrupted Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +“I have been trying to keep it from her as long as I can, but it has been +difficult to keep Veronica from telling it. Hazleton himself was so wild over +her. And she wanted her son as she—-” +</p> + +<p> +“Maudsley,” snapped out Kennedy, slapping down on the table the mass of prints +and charts which he had hurriedly collected and was studying, “you lie! Morton +is Millicent Hazleton’s son. The whole story is blackmail. I knew it when she +told me of her dreams and I suspected first some such devilish scheme as yours. +Now I know it scientifically.” +</p> + +<p> +He turned over the prints. +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose that study of these prints, Maudsley, will convey nothing to you. I +know that it is usually stated that there are no two sets of finger prints in +the world that are identical or that can be confused. Still, there are certain +similarities of finger prints and other characteristics, and these similarities +have recently been exhaustively studied by Bertilion, who has found that there +are clear relationships sometimes between mother and child in these respects. +If Solomon were alive, doctor, he would not now have to resort to the expedient +to which he did when the two women disputed over the right to the living child. +Modern science is now deciding by exact laboratory methods the same problem as +he solved by his unique knowledge of feminine psychology. +</p> + +<p> +“I saw how this case was tending. Not a moment too soon, I said to myself, ‘The +hand of the child will tell.’ By the very variations in unlike things, such as +finger and palm prints, as tabulated and arranged by Bertillon after study in +thousands of cases, by the very loops, whorls, arches and composites, I have +proved my case. +</p> + +<p> +“The dominancy, not the identity, of heredity through the infinite varieties of +finger markings is sometimes very striking. Unique patterns in a parent have +been repeated with marvelous accuracy in the child. I knew that negative +results might prove nothing in regard to parentage, a caution which it is +important to observe. But I was prepared to meet even that. +</p> + +<p> +“I would have gone on into other studies, such as Tammasia’s, of heredity in +the veining of the back of the hands; I would have measured the hands, compared +the relative proportion of the parts; I would have studied them under the X-ray +as they are being studied to-day; I would have tried the Reichert blood crystal +test which is being perfected now so that it will tell heredity itself. There +is no scientific stone I would have left unturned until I had delved at the +truth of this riddle. Fortunately it was not necessary. Simple finger prints +have told me enough. And best of all, it has been in time to frustrate that +devilish scheme you and Veronica Haversham have been slowly unfolding.” +</p> + +<p> +Maudsley crumpled up, as it were, at Kennedy’s denunciation. He seemed to +shrink toward the door. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” cried Kennedy, with extended forefinger, “you may go—for the present. +Don’t try to run away. You’re watched from this moment on.” +</p> + +<p> +Maudsley had retreated precipitately. +</p> + +<p> +I looked at Kennedy inquiringly. What to do? It was indeed a delicate +situation, requiring the utmost care to handle. If the story had been told to +Hazleton, what might he not have already done? He must be found first of all if +we were to meet the conspiracy of these two. +</p> + +<p> +Kennedy reached quickly for the telephone. “There is one stream of scandal that +can be dammed at its source,” he remarked, calling a number. “Hello. Klemm’s +Sanitarium? I’d like to speak with Miss Haversham. What—gone? Disappeared? +Escaped?” +</p> + +<p> +He hung up the receiver and looked at me blankly. I was speechless. +</p> + +<p> +A thousand ideas flew through our minds at once. Had she perceived the import +of our last visit and was she now on her way to complete her plotted slander of +Millicent Hazleton, though it pulled down on herself in the end the whole +structure? +</p> + +<p> +Hastily Kennedy called Hazleton’s home, Butler, and one after another of +Hazleton’s favorite clubs. It was not until noon that Butler himself found him +and came with him, under protest, to the laboratory. +</p> + +<p> +“What is it—what have you found?” cried Butler, his lean form a-quiver with +suppressed excitement. +</p> + +<p> +Briefly, one fact after another, sparing Hazleton nothing, Kennedy poured forth +the story, how by hint and innuendo Maudsley had been working on Millicent, +undermining her, little knowing that he had attacked in her a very tower of +strength, how Veronica, infatuated by him, had infatuated him, had led him on +step by step. +</p> + +<p> +Pale and agitated, with nerves unstrung by the life he had been leading, +Hazleton listened. And as Kennedy hammered one fact after another home, he +clenched his fists until the nails dug into his very palms. +</p> + +<p> +“The scoundrels,” he ground out, as Kennedy finished by painting the picture of +the brave little broken-hearted woman fighting off she knew not what, and the +golden-haired, innocent baby stretching out his arms in glee at the very chance +to prove that he was what he was. “The scoundrels—take me to Maudsley now. I +must see Maudsley. Quick!” +</p> + +<p> +As we pulled up before the door of the reconstructed stable-studio, Kennedy +jumped out. The door was unlocked. Up the broad flight of stairs, Hazleton went +two at a time. We followed him closely. +</p> + +<p> +Lying on the divan in the room that had been the scene of so many orgies, +locked in each other’s arms, were two figures—Veronica Haversham and Dr. +Maudsley. +</p> + +<p> +She must have gone there directly after our visit to Dr. Klemm’s, must have +been waiting for him when he returned with his story of the exposure to answer +her fears of us as Mrs. Hazleton’s detectives. In a frenzy of intoxication she +must have flung her arms blindly about him in a last wild embrace. +</p> + +<p> +Hazleton looked, aghast. +</p> + +<p> +He leaned over and took her arm. Before he could frame the name, “Veronica!” he +had recoiled. +</p> + +<p> +The two were cold and rigid. +</p> + +<p> +“An overdose of heroin this time,” muttered Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +My head was in a whirl. +</p> + +<p> +Hazleton stared blankly at the two figures abjectly lying before him, as the +truth burned itself indelibly into his soul. He covered his face with his +hands. And still he saw it all. +</p> + +<p> +Craig said nothing. He was content to let what he had shown work in the man’s +mind. +</p> + +<p> +“For the sake of—that baby—would she—would she forgive?” asked Hazleton, +turning desperately toward Kennedy. +</p> + +<p> +Deliberately Kennedy faced him, not as scientist and millionaire, but as man +and man. +</p> + +<p> +“From my psychanalysis,” he said slowly, “I should say that it IS within your +power, in time, to change those dreams.” +</p> + +<p> +Hazleton grasped Kennedy’s hand before he knew it. +</p> + +<p> +“Kennedy—home—quick. This is the first manful impulse I have had for two years. +And, Jameson—you’ll tone down that part of it in the newspapers that +Junior—might read—when he grows up?” +</p> + +<h4>THE END</h4> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WAR TERROR ***</div> +<div style='text-align:left'> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. 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Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..eec3774 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #5073 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/5073) diff --git a/old/5073.txt b/old/5073.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c396adc --- /dev/null +++ b/old/5073.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12709 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The War Terror, by Arthur B. Reeve + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The War Terror + +Author: Arthur B. Reeve + +Posting Date: September 15, 2012 [EBook #5073] +Release Date: February, 2004 +First Posted: April 14, 2002 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WAR TERROR *** + + + + +Produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + + + + + +THE CRAIG KENNEDY SERIES + +THE WAR TERROR + +BY ARTHUR B. REEVE + + +FRONTISPIECE BY WILL FOSTER + + + + +CONTENTS + +CHAPTER + + INTRODUCTION + I. THE WAR TERROR + II. THE ELECTRO-MAGNETIC GUN + III. THE MURDER SYNDICATE + IV. THE AIR PIRATE + V. THE ULTRA-VIOLET RAY + VI. THE TRIPLE MIRROR + VII. THE WIRELESS WIRETAPPERS + VIII. THE HOUSEBOAT MYSTERY + IX. THE RADIO DETECTIVE + X. THE CURIO SHOP + XI. THE "PILLAR OF DEATH" + XII. THE ARROW POISON + XIII. THE RADIUM ROBBER + XIV. THE SPINTHARISCOPE + XV. THE ASPHYXIATING SAFE + XVI. THE DEAD LINE + XVII. THE PASTE REPLICA + XVIII. THE BURGLAR'S MICROPHONE + XIX. THE GERM LETTER + XX. THE ARTIFICIAL KIDNEY + XXI. THE POISON BRACELET + XXII. THE DEVIL WORSHIPERS + XXIII. THE PSYCHIC CURSE + XXIV. THE SERPENT'S TOOTH + XXV. THE "HAPPY DUST" + XXVI. THE BINET TEST + XXVII. THE LIE DETECTOR + XXVIII. THE FAMILY SKELETON + XXIX. THE LEAD POISONER + XXX. THE ELECTROLYTIC MURDER + XXXI. THE EUGENIC BRIDE + XXXII. THE GERM PLASM + XXXIII. THE SEX CONTROL + XXXIV. THE BILLIONAIRE BABY + XXXV. THE PSYCHANALYSIS + XXXVI. THE ENDS OF JUSTICE + + + + +INTRODUCTION + + +As I look back now on the sensational events of the past months since +the great European War began, it seems to me as if there had never been +a period in Craig Kennedy's life more replete with thrilling adventures +than this. + +In fact, scarcely had one mysterious event been straightened out from +the tangled skein, when another, even more baffling, crowded on its +very heels. + +As was to have been expected with us in America, not all of these +remarkable experiences grew either directly or indirectly out of the +war, but there were several that did, and they proved to be only the +beginning of a succession of events which kept me busy chronicling for +the Star the exploits of my capable and versatile friend. + +Altogether, this period of the war was, I am sure, quite the most +exciting of the many series of episodes through which Craig has been +called upon to go. Yet he seemed to meet each situation as it arose +with a fresh mind, which was amazing even to me who have known him so +long and so intimately. + +As was naturally to be supposed, also, at such a time, it was not long +before Craig found himself entangled in the marvelous spy system of the +warring European nations. These systems revealed their devious and dark +ways, ramifying as they did tentacle-like even across the ocean in +their efforts to gain their ends in neutral America. Not only so, but, +as I shall some day endeavor to show later, when the ban of silence +imposed by neutrality is raised after the war, many of the horrors of +the war were brought home intimately to us. + +I have, after mature consideration, decided that even at present +nothing but good can come from the publication at least of some part of +the strange series of adventures through which Kennedy and I have just +gone, especially those which might, if we had not succeeded, have +caused most important changes in current history. As for the other +adventures, no question can be raised about the propriety of their +publication. + +At any rate, it came about that early in August, when the war cloud was +just beginning to loom blackest, Kennedy was unexpectedly called into +one of the strangest, most dangerous situations in which his peculiar +and perilous profession had ever involved him. + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE WAR TERROR + + +"I must see Professor Kennedy--where is he?--I must see him, for God's +sake!" + +I was almost carried off my feet by the inrush of a wild-eyed girl, +seemingly half crazed with excitement, as she cried out Craig's name. + +Startled by my own involuntary exclamation of surprise which followed +the vision that shot past me as I opened our door in response to a +sudden, sharp series of pushes at the buzzer, Kennedy bounded swiftly +toward me, and the girl almost flung herself upon him. + +"Why, Miss--er--Miss--my dear young lady--what's the matter?" he +stammered, catching her by the arm gently. + +As Kennedy forced our strange visitor into a chair, I observed that she +was all a-tremble. Her teeth fairly chattered. Alternately her nervous, +peaceless hands clutched at an imaginary something in the air, as if +for support, then, finding none, she would let her wrists fall supine, +while she gazed about with quivering lips and wild, restless eyes. +Plainly, there was something she feared. She was almost over the verge +of hysteria. + +She was a striking girl, of medium height and slender form, but it was +her face that fascinated me, with its delicately molded features, +intense unfathomable eyes of dark brown, and lips that showed her +idealistic, high-strung temperament. + +"Please," he soothed, "get yourself together, please--try! What is the +matter?" + +She looked about, as if she feared that the very walls had eyes and +ears. Yet there seemed to be something bursting from her lips that she +could not restrain. + +"My life," she cried wildly, "my life is at stake. Oh--help me, help +me! Unless I commit a murder to-night, I shall be killed myself!" + +The words sounded so doubly strange from a girl of her evident +refinement that I watched her narrowly, not sure yet but that we had a +plain case of insanity to deal with. + +"A murder?" repeated Kennedy incredulously. "YOU commit a murder?" + +Her eyes rested on him, as if fascinated, but she did not flinch as she +replied desperately, "Yes--Baron Kreiger--you know, the German diplomat +and financier, who is in America raising money and arousing sympathy +with his country." + +"Baron Kreiger!" exclaimed Kennedy in surprise, looking at her more +keenly. + +We had not met the Baron, but we had heard much about him, young, +handsome, of an old family, trusted already in spite of his youth by +many of the more advanced of old world financial and political leaders, +one who had made a most favorable impression on democratic America at a +time when such impressions were valuable. + +Glancing from one of us to the other, she seemed suddenly, with a great +effort, to recollect herself, for she reached into her chatelaine and +pulled out a card from a case. + +It read simply, "Miss Paula Lowe." + +"Yes," she replied, more calmly now to Kennedy's repetition of the +Baron's name, "you see, I belong to a secret group." She appeared to +hesitate, then suddenly added, "I am an anarchist." + +She watched the effect of her confession and, finding the look on +Kennedy's face encouraging rather than shocked, went on breathlessly: +"We are fighting war with war--this iron-bound organization of men and +women. We have pledged ourselves to exterminate all kings, emperors and +rulers, ministers of war, generals--but first of all the financiers who +lend money that makes war possible." + +She paused, her eyes gleaming momentarily with something like the +militant enthusiasm that must have enlisted her in the paradoxical war +against war. + +"We are at least going to make another war impossible!" she exclaimed, +for the moment evidently forgetting herself. + +"And your plan?" prompted Kennedy, in the most matter-of-fact manner, +as though he were discussing an ordinary campaign for social +betterment. "How were you to--reach the Baron?" + +"We had a drawing," she answered with amazing calmness, as if the mere +telling relieved her pent-up feelings. "Another woman and I were +chosen. We knew the Baron's weakness for a pretty face. We planned to +become acquainted with him--lure him on." + +Her voice trailed off, as if, the first burst of confidence over, she +felt something that would lock her secret tighter in her breast. + +A moment later she resumed, now talking rapidly, disconnectedly, giving +Kennedy no chance to interrupt or guide the conversation. + +"You don't know, Professor Kennedy," she began again, "but there are +similar groups to ours in European countries and the plan is to strike +terror and consternation everywhere in the world at once. Why, at our +headquarters there have been drawn up plans and agreements with other +groups and there are set down the time, place, and manner of all +the--the removals." + +Momentarily she seemed to be carried away by something like the +fanaticism of the fervor which had at first captured her, even still +held her as she recited her incredible story. + +"Oh, can't you understand?" she went on, as if to justify herself. "The +increase in armies, the frightful implements of slaughter, the total +failure of the peace propaganda--they have all defied civilization! + +"And then, too, the old, red-blooded emotions of battle have all been +eliminated by the mechanical conditions of modern warfare in which men +and women are just so many units, automata. Don't you see? To fight war +with its own weapons--that has become the only last resort." + +Her eager, flushed face betrayed the enthusiasm which had once carried +her into the "Group," as she called it. I wondered what had brought her +now to us. + +"We are no longer making war against man," she cried. "We are making +war against picric acid and electric wires!" + +I confess that I could not help thinking that there was no doubt that +to a certain type of mind the reasoning might appeal most strongly. + +"And you would do it in war time, too?" asked Kennedy quickly. + +She was ready with an answer. "King George of Greece was killed at the +head of his troops. Remember Nazim Pasha, too. Such people are easily +reached in time of peace and in time of war, also, by sympathizers on +their own side. That's it, you see--we have followers of all +nationalities." + +She stopped, her burst of enthusiasm spent. A moment later she leaned +forward, her clean-cut profile showing her more earnest than before. +"But, oh, Professor Kennedy," she added, "it is working itself out to +be more terrible than war itself!" + +"Have any of the plans been carried out yet?" asked Craig, I thought a +little superciliously, for there had certainly been no such wholesale +assassination yet as she had hinted at. + +She seemed to catch her breath. "Yes," she murmured, then checked +herself as if in fear of saying too much. "That is, I--I think so." + +I wondered if she were concealing something, perhaps had already had a +hand in some such enterprise and it had frightened her. + +Kennedy leaned forward, observing the girl's discomfiture. "Miss Lowe," +he said, catching her eye and holding it almost hypnotically, "why have +you come to see me?" + +The question, pointblank, seemed to startle her. Evidently she had +thought to tell only as little as necessary, and in her own way. She +gave a little nervous laugh, as if to pass it off. But Kennedy's eyes +conquered. + +"Oh, can't you understand yet?" she exclaimed, rising passionately and +throwing out her arms in appeal. "I was carried away with my hatred of +war. I hate it yet. But now--the sudden realization of what this +compact all means has--well, caused something in me to--to snap. I +don't care what oath I have taken. Oh, Professor Kennedy, you--you must +save him!" + +I looked up at her quickly. What did she mean? At first she had come to +be saved herself. "You must save him!" she implored. + +Our door buzzer sounded. + +She gazed about with a hunted look, as if she felt that some one had +even now pursued her and found out. + +"What shall I do?" she whispered. "Where shall I go?" + +"Quick--in here. No one will know," urged Kennedy, opening the door to +his room. He paused for an instant, hurriedly. "Tell me--have you and +this other woman met the Baron yet? How far has it gone?" + +The look she gave him was peculiar. I could not fathom what was going +on in her mind. But there was no hesitation about her answer. "Yes," +she replied, "I--we have met him. He is to come back to New York from +Washington to-day--this afternoon--to arrange a private loan of five +million dollars with some bankers secretly. We were to see him +to-night--a quiet dinner, after an automobile ride up the Hudson--" + +"Both of you?" interrupted Craig. + +"Yes--that--that other woman and myself," she repeated, with a peculiar +catch in her voice. "To-night was the time fixed in the drawing for +the--" + +The word stuck in her throat. Kennedy understood. "Yes, yes," he +encouraged, "but who is the other woman?" + +Before she could reply, the buzzer had sounded again and she had +retreated from the door. Quickly Kennedy closed it and opened the +outside door. + +It was our old friend Burke of the Secret Service. + +Without a word of greeting, a hasty glance seemed to assure him that +Kennedy and I were alone. He closed the door himself, and, instead of +sitting down, came close to Craig. + +"Kennedy," he blurted out in a tone of suppressed excitement, "can I +trust you to keep a big secret?" + +Craig looked at him reproachfully, but said nothing. + +"I beg your pardon--a thousand times," hastened Burke. "I was so +excited, I wasn't thinking--" + +"Once is enough, Burke," laughed Kennedy, his good nature restored at +Burke's crestfallen appearance. + +"Well, you see," went on the Secret Service man, "this thing is so very +important that--well, I forgot." + +He sat down and hitched his chair close to us, as he went on in a +lowered, almost awestruck tone. + +"Kennedy," he whispered, "I'm on the trail, I think, of something +growing out of these terrible conditions in Europe that will tax the +best in the Secret Service. Think of it, man. There's an organization, +right here in this city, a sort of assassin's club, as it were, aimed +at all the powerful men the world over. Why, the most refined and +intellectual reformers have joined with the most red-handed anarchists +and--" + +"Sh! not so loud," cautioned Craig. "I think I have one of them in the +next room. Have they done anything yet to the Baron?" + +It was Burke's turn now to look from one to the other of us in +unfeigned surprise that we should already know something of his secret. + +"The Baron?" he repeated, lowering his voice. "What Baron?" + +It was evident that Burke knew nothing, at least of this new plot which +Miss Lowe had indicated. Kennedy beckoned him over to the window +furthest from the door to his own room. + +"What have you discovered?" he asked, forestalling Burke in the +questioning. "What has happened?" + +"You haven't heard, then?" replied Burke. + +Kennedy nodded negatively. + +"Fortescue, the American inventor of fortescite, the new explosive, +died very strangely this morning." + +"Yes," encouraged Kennedy, as Burke came to a full stop to observe the +effect of the information. + +"Most incomprehensible, too," he pursued. "No cause, apparently. But it +might have been overlooked, perhaps, except for one thing. It wasn't +known generally, but Fortescue had just perfected a successful +electro-magnetic gun--powderless, smokeless, flashless, noiseless and +of tremendous power. To-morrow he was to have signed the contract to +sell it to England. This morning he is found dead and the final plans +of the gun are gone!" + +Kennedy and Burke were standing mutely looking at each other. + +"Who is in the next room?" whispered Burke hoarsely, recollecting +Kennedy's caution of silence. + +Kennedy did not reply immediately. He was evidently much excited by +Burke's news of the wonderful electro-magnetic gun. + +"Burke," he exclaimed suddenly, "let's join forces. I think we are both +on the trail of a world-wide conspiracy--a sort of murder syndicate to +wipe out war!" + +Burke's only reply was a low whistle that involuntarily escaped him as +he reached over and grasped Craig's hand, which to him represented the +sealing of the compact. + +As for me, I could not restrain a mental shudder at the power that +their first murder had evidently placed in the hands of the anarchists, +if they indeed had the electro-magnetic gun which inventors had been +seeking for generations. What might they not do with it--perhaps even +use it themselves and turn the latest invention against society itself! + +Hastily Craig gave a whispered account of our strange visit from Miss +Lowe, while Burke listened, open-mouthed. + +He had scarcely finished when he reached for the telephone and asked +for long distance. + +"Is this the German embassy in Washington?" asked Craig a few moments +later when he got his number. "This is Craig Kennedy, in New York. The +United States Secret Service will vouch for me--mention to them Mr. +Burke of their New York office who is here with me now. I understand +that Baron Kreiger is leaving for New York to meet some bankers this +afternoon. He must not do so. He is in the gravest danger if he--What? +He left last night at midnight and is already here?" + +Kennedy turned to us blankly. + +The door to his room opened suddenly. + +There stood Miss Lowe, gazing wild-eyed at us. Evidently her +supernervous condition had heightened the keenness of her senses. She +had heard what we were saying. I tried to read her face. It was not +fear that I saw there. It was rage; it was jealousy. + +"The traitress--it is Marie!" she shrieked. + +For a moment, obtusely, I did not understand. + +"She has made a secret appointment with him," she cried. + +At last I saw the truth. Paula Lowe had fallen in love with the man she +had sworn to kill! + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE ELECTRO-MAGNETIC GUN + + +"What shall we do?" demanded Burke, instantly taking in the dangerous +situation that the Baron's sudden change of plans had opened up. + +"Call O'Connor," I suggested, thinking of the police bureau of missing +persons, and reaching for the telephone. + +"No, no!" almost shouted Craig, seizing my arm. "The police will +inevitably spoil it all. No, we must play a lone hand in this if we are +to work it out. How was Fortescue discovered, Burke?" + +"Sitting in a chair in his laboratory. He must have been there all +night. There wasn't a mark on him, not a sign of violence, yet his face +was terribly drawn as though he were gasping for breath or his heart +had suddenly failed him. So far, I believe, the coroner has no clue and +isn't advertising the case." + +"Take me there, then," decided Craig quickly. "Walter, I must trust +Miss Lowe to you on the journey. We must all go. That must be our +starting point, if we are to run this thing down." + +I caught his significant look to me and interpreted it to mean that he +wanted me to watch Miss Lowe especially. I gathered that taking her was +in the nature of a third degree and as a result he expected to derive +some information from her. Her face was pale and drawn as we four piled +into a taxicab for a quick run downtown to the laboratory of Fortescue +from which Burke had come directly to us with his story. + +"What do you know of these anarchists?" asked Kennedy of Burke as we +sped along. "Why do you suspect them?" + +It was evident that he was discussing the case so that Paula could +overhear, for a purpose. + +"Why, we received a tip from abroad--I won't say where," replied Burke +guardedly, taking his cue. "They call themselves the 'Group,' I +believe, which is a common enough term among anarchists. It seems they +are composed of terrorists of all nations." + +"The leader?" inquired Kennedy, leading him on. + +"There is one, I believe, a little florid, stout German. I think he is +a paranoiac who believes there has fallen on himself a divine mission +to end all warfare. Quite likely he is one of those who have fled to +America to avoid military service. Perhaps, why certainly, you must +know him--Annenberg, an instructor in economics now at the University?" + +Craig nodded and raised his eyebrows in mild surprise. We had indeed +heard of Annenberg and some of his radical theories which had sometimes +quite alarmed the conservative faculty. I felt that this was getting +pretty close home to us now. + +"How about Mrs. Annenberg?" Craig asked, recalling the clever young +wife of the middle-aged professor. + +At the mere mention of the name, I felt a sort of start in Miss Lowe, +who was seated next to me in the taxicab. She had quickly recovered +herself, but not before I saw that Kennedy's plan of breaking down the +last barrier of her reserve was working. + +"She is one of them, too," Burke nodded. "I have had my men out +shadowing them and their friends. They tell me that the Annenbergs hold +salons--I suppose you would call them that--attended by numbers of men +and women of high social and intellectual position who dabble in +radicalism and all sorts of things." + +"Who are the other leaders?" asked Craig. "Have you any idea?" + +"Some idea," returned Burke. "There seems to be a Frenchman, a tall, +wiry man of forty-five or fifty with a black mustache which once had a +military twist. There are a couple of Englishmen. Then there are five +or six Americans who seem to be active. One, I believe, is a young +woman." + +Kennedy checked him with a covert glance, but did not betray by a +movement of a muscle to Miss Lowe that either Burke or himself +suspected her of being the young woman in question. + +"There are three Russians," continued Burke, "all of whom have escaped +from Siberia. Then there is at least one Austrian, a Spaniard from the +Ferrer school, and Tomasso and Enrico, two Italians, rather heavily +built, swarthy, bearded. They look the part. Of course there are +others. But these in the main, I think, compose what might be called +'the inner circle' of the 'Group.'" + +It was indeed an alarming, terrifying revelation, as we began to +realize that Miss Lowe had undoubtedly been telling the truth. Not +alone was there this American group, evidently, but all over Europe the +lines of the conspiracy had apparently spread. It was not a casual +gathering of ordinary malcontents. It went deeper than that. It +included many who in their disgust at war secretly were not unwilling +to wink at violence to end the curse. I could not but reflect on the +dangerous ground on which most of them were treading, shaking the basis +of all civilization in order to cut out one modern excrescence. + +The big fact to us, just at present, was that this group had made +America its headquarters, that plans had been studiously matured and +even reduced to writing, if Paula were to be believed. Everything had +been carefully staged for a great simultaneous blow or series of blows +that would rouse the whole world. + +As I watched I could not escape observing that Miss Lowe followed Burke +furtively now, as though he had some uncanny power. + +Fortescue's laboratory was in an old building on a side street several +blocks from the main thoroughfares of Manhattan. He had evidently +chosen it, partly because of its very inaccessibility in order to +secure the quiet necessary for his work. + +"If he had any visitors last night," commented Kennedy when our cab at +last pulled up before the place, "they might have come and gone +unnoticed." + +We entered. Nothing had been disturbed in the laboratory by the coroner +and Kennedy was able to gain a complete idea of the case rapidly, +almost as well as if we had been called in immediately. + +Fortescue's body, it seemed, had been discovered sprawled out in a big +armchair, as Burke had said, by one of his assistants only a few hours +before when he had come to the laboratory in the morning to open it. +Evidently he had been there undisturbed all night, keeping a gruesome +vigil over his looted treasure house. + +As we gleaned the meager facts, it became more evident that whoever had +perpetrated the crime must have had the diabolical cunning to do it in +some ordinary way that aroused no suspicion on the part of the victim, +for there was no sign of any violence anywhere. + +As we entered the laboratory, I noted an involuntary shudder on the +part of Paula Lowe, but, as far as I knew, it was no more than might +have been felt by anyone under the circumstances. + +Fortescue's body had been removed from the chair in which it had been +found and lay on a couch at the other end of the room, covered merely +by a sheet. Otherwise, everything, even the armchair, was undisturbed. + +Kennedy pulled back a corner of the sheet, disclosing the face, +contorted and of a peculiar, purplish hue from the congested blood +vessels. He bent over and I did so, too. There was an unmistakable odor +of tobacco on him. A moment Kennedy studied the face before us, then +slowly replaced the sheet. + +Miss Lowe had paused just inside the door and seemed resolutely bound +not to look at anything. Kennedy meanwhile had begun a most minute +search of the table and floor of the laboratory near the spot where the +armchair had been sitting. + +In my effort to glean what I could from her actions and expressions I +did not notice that Craig had dropped to his knees and was peering into +the shadow under the laboratory table. When at last he rose and +straightened himself up, however, I saw that he was holding in the palm +of his hand a half-smoked, gold-tipped cigarette, which had evidently +fallen on the floor beneath the table where it had burned itself out, +leaving a blackened mark on the wood. + +An instant afterward he picked out from the pile of articles found in +Fortescue's pockets and lying on another table a silver cigarette case. +He snapped it open. Fortescue's cigarettes, of which there were perhaps +a half dozen in the case, were cork-tipped. + +Some one had evidently visited the inventor the night before, had +apparently offered him a cigarette, for there were any number of the +cork-tipped stubs lying about. Who was it? I caught Paula looking with +fascinated gaze at the gold-tipped stub, as Kennedy carefully folded it +up in a piece of paper and deposited it in his pocket. Did she know +something about the case, I wondered? + +Without a word, Kennedy seemed to take in the scant furniture of the +laboratory at a glance and a quick step or two brought him before a +steel filing cabinet. One drawer, which had not been closed as tightly +as the rest, projected a bit. On its face was a little typewritten card +bearing the inscription: "E-M GUN." + +He pulled the drawer open and glanced over the data in it. + +"Just what is an electro-magnetic gun?" I asked, interpreting the +initials on the drawer. + +"Well," he explained as he turned over the notes and sketches, "the +primary principle involved in the construction of such a gun consists +in impelling the projectile by the magnetic action of a solenoid, the +sectional coils or helices of which are supplied with current through +devices actuated by the projectile itself. In other words, the sections +of helices of the solenoid produce an accelerated motion of the +projectile by acting successively on it, after a principle involved in +the construction of electro-magnetic rock drills and dispatch tubes. + +"All projectiles used in this gun of Fortescue's evidently must have +magnetic properties and projectiles of iron or containing large +portions of iron are necessary. You see, many coils are wound around +the barrel of the gun. As the projectile starts it does so under the +attraction of those coils ahead which the current makes temporary +magnets. It automatically cuts off the current from those coils that it +passes, allowing those further on only to attract it, and preventing +those behind from pulling it back." + +He paused to study the scraps of plans. "Fortescue had evidently also +worked out a way of changing the poles of the coils as the projectile +passed, causing them then to repel the projectile, which must have +added to its velocity. He seems to have overcome the practical +difficulty that in order to obtain service velocities with service +projectiles an enormous number of windings and a tremendously long +barrel are necessary as well as an abnormally heavy current beyond the +safe carrying capacity of the solenoid which would raise the +temperature to a point that would destroy the coils." + +He continued turning over the prints and notes in the drawer. When he +finished, he looked up at us with an expression that indicated that he +had merely satisfied himself of something he had already suspected. + +"You were right, Burke," he said. "The final plans are gone." + +Burke, who, in the meantime, had been telephoning about the city in a +vain effort to locate Baron Kreiger, both at such banking offices in +Wall Street as he might be likely to visit and at some of the hotels +most frequented by foreigners, merely nodded. He was evidently at a +loss completely how to proceed. + +In fact, there seemed to be innumerable problems--to warn Baron +Kreiger, to get the list of the assassinations, to guard Miss Lowe +against falling into the hands of her anarchist friends again, to find +the murderer of Fortescue, to prevent the use of the electro-magnetic +gun, and, if possible, to seize the anarchists before they had a chance +to carry further their plans. + +"There is nothing more that we can do here," remarked Craig briskly, +betraying no sign of hesitation. "I think the best thing we can do is +to go to my own laboratory. There at least there is something I must +investigate sooner or later." + +No one offering either a suggestion or an objection, we four again +entered our cab. It was quite noticeable now that the visit had shaken +Paula Lowe, but Kennedy still studiously refrained from questioning +her, trusting that what she had seen and heard, especially Burke's +report as to Baron Kreiger, would have its effect. + +Like everyone visiting Craig's laboratory for the first time, Miss Lowe +seemed to feel the spell of the innumerable strange and uncanny +instruments which he had gathered about him in his scientific warfare +against crime. I could see that she was becoming more and more nervous, +perhaps fearing even that in some incomprehensible way he might read +her own thoughts. Yet one thing I did not detect. She showed no +disposition to turn back on the course on which she had entered by +coming to us in the first place. + +Kennedy was quickly and deftly testing the stub of the little thin, +gold-tipped cigarette. + +"Excessive smoking," he remarked casually, "causes neuroses of the +heart and tobacco has a specific affinity for the coronary arteries as +well as a tremendous effect on the vagus nerve. But I don't think this +was any ordinary smoke." + +He had finished his tests and a quiet smile of satisfaction flitted +momentarily over his face. We had been watching him anxiously, +wondering what he had found. + +As he looked up he remarked to us, with his eyes fixed on Miss Lowe, +"That was a ladies' cigarette. Did you notice the size? There has been +a woman in this case--presumably." + +The girl, suddenly transformed by the rapid-fire succession of +discoveries, stood before us like a specter. + +"The 'Group,' as anarchists call it," pursued Craig, "is the loosest +sort of organization conceivable, I believe, with no set membership, no +officers, no laws--just a place of meeting with no fixity, where the +comrades get together. Could you get us into the inner circle, Miss +Lowe?" + +Her only answer was a little suppressed scream. Kennedy had asked the +question merely for its effect, for it was only too evident that there +was no time, even if she could have managed it, for us to play the +"stool pigeon." + +Kennedy, who had been clearing up the materials he had used in the +analysis of the cigarette, wheeled about suddenly. "Where is the +headquarters of the inner circle?" he shot out. + +Miss Lowe hesitated. That had evidently been one of the things she had +determined not to divulge. + +"Tell me," insisted Kennedy. "You must!" + +If it had been Burke's bulldozing she would never have yielded. But as +she looked into Kennedy's eyes she read there that he had long since +fathomed the secret of her wildly beating heart, that if she would +accomplish the purpose of saving the Baron she must stop at nothing. + +"At--Maplehurst," she answered in a low tone, dropping her eyes from +his penetrating gaze, "Professor Annenberg's home--out on Long Island." + +"We must act swiftly if we are to succeed," considered Kennedy, his +tone betraying rather sympathy with than triumph over the wretched girl +who had at last cast everything in the balance to outweigh the terrible +situation into which she had been drawn. "To send Miss Lowe for that +fatal list of assassinations is to send her either back into the power +of this murderous group and let them know that she has told us, or +perhaps to involve her again in the completion of their plans." + +She sank back into a chair in complete nervous and physical collapse, +covering her face with her hands at the realization that in her +new-found passion to save the Baron she had bared her sensitive soul +for the dissection of three men whom she had never seen before. + +"We must have that list," pursued Kennedy decisively. "We must visit +Annenberg's headquarters." + +"And I?" she asked, trembling now with genuine fear at the thought that +he might ask her to accompany us as he had on our visit to Fortescue's +laboratory that morning. + +"Miss Lowe," said Kennedy, bending over her, "you have gone too far now +ever to turn back. You are not equal to the trip. Would you like to +remain here? No one will suspect. Here at least you will be safe until +we return." + +Her answer was a mute expression of thanks and confidence. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE MURDER SYNDICATE + + +Quickly now Craig completed his arrangements for the visit to the +headquarters of the real anarchist leader. Burke telephoned for a +high-powered car, while Miss Lowe told frankly of the habits of +Annenberg and the chances of finding his place unguarded, which were +good in the daytime. Kennedy's only equipment for the excursion +consisted in a small package which he took from a cabinet at the end of +the room, and, with a parting reassurance to Paula Lowe, we were soon +speeding over the bridge to the borough across the river. + +We realized that it might prove a desperate undertaking, but the crisis +was such that it called for any risk. + +Our quest took us to a rather dilapidated old house on the outskirts of +the little Long Island town. The house stood alone, not far from the +tracks of a trolley that ran at infrequent intervals. Even a hasty +reconnoitering showed that to stop our motor at even a reasonable +distance from it was in itself to arouse suspicion. + +Although the house seemed deserted, Craig took no chances, but directed +the car to turn at the next crossroad and then run back along a road +back of and parallel to that on which Annenberg's was situated. It was +perhaps a quarter of a mile away, across an open field, that we stopped +and ran the car up along the side of the road in some bushes. +Annenberg's was plainly visible and it was not at all likely that +anyone there would suspect trouble from that quarter. + +A hasty conference with Burke followed, in which Kennedy unwrapped his +small package, leaving part of its contents with him, and adding +careful instructions. + +Then Kennedy and I retraced our steps down the road, across by the +crossroad, and at last back to the mysterious house. + +To all appearance there had been no need of such excessive caution. Not +a sound or motion greeted us as we entered the gate and made our way +around to the rear of the house. The very isolation of the house was +now our protection, for we had no inquisitive neighbors to watch us for +the instant when Kennedy, with the dexterity of a yeggman, inserted his +knife between the sashes of the kitchen window and turned the catch +which admitted us. + +We made our way on cautious tiptoe through a dining room to a living +room, and, finding nothing, proceeded upstairs. There was not a soul, +apparently, in the house, nor in fact anything to indicate that it was +different from most small suburban homes, until at last we mounted to +the attic. + +It was finished off in one large room across the back of the house and +two in front. As we opened the door to the larger room, we could only +gaze about in surprise. This was the rendezvous, the arsenal, literary, +explosive and toxicological of the "Group." Ranged on a table were all +the materials for bomb-making, while in a cabinet I fancied there were +poisons enough to decimate a city. + +On the walls were pictures, mostly newspaper prints, of the assassins +of McKinley, of King Humbert, of the King of Greece, of King Carlos and +others, interspersed with portraits of anarchist and anti-militarist +leaders of all lands. + +Kennedy sniffed. Over all I, too, could catch the faint odor of stale +tobacco. No time was to be lost, however, and while Craig set to work +rapidly going through the contents of a desk in the corner, I glanced +over the contents of a drawer of a heavy mission table. + +"Here's some of Annenberg's literature," I remarked, coming across a +small pile of manuscript, entitled "The Human Slaughter House." + +"Read it," panted Kennedy, seeing that I had about completed my part of +the job. "It may give a clue." + +Hastily I scanned the mad, frantic indictment of war, while Craig +continued in his search: + +"I see wild beasts all around me, distorted unnaturally, in a life and +death struggle, with bloodshot eyes, with foaming, gnashing mouths. +They attack and kill one another and try to mangle each other. I leap +to my feet. I race out into the night and tread on quaking flesh, step +on hard heads, and stumble over weapons and helmets. Something is +clutching at my feet like hands, so that I race away like a hunted deer +with the hounds at his heels--and ever over more bodies--breathless... +out of one field into another. Horror is crooning over my head. Horror +is crooning beneath my feet. And nothing but dying, mangled flesh! + +"Of a sudden I see nothing but blood before me. The heavens have opened +and the red blood pours in through the windows. Blood wells up on an +altar. The walls run blood from the ceiling to the floor and... a giant +of blood stands before me. His beard and his hair drip blood. He seats +himself on the altar and laughs from thick lips. The black executioner +raises his sword and whirls it above my head. Another moment and my +head will roll down on the floor. Another moment and the red jet will +spurt from my neck. + +"Murderers! Murderers! None other than murderers!" + +I paused in the reading. "There's nothing here," I remarked, glancing +over the curious document for a clue, but finding none. + +"Well," remarked Craig contemplatively, "one can at least easily +understand how sensitive and imaginative people who have fallen under +the influence of one who writes in that way can feel justified in +killing those responsible for bringing such horrors on the human race. +Hello--what's this?" + +He had discovered a false back of one of the drawers in the desk and +had jimmied it open. On the top of innumerable papers lay a large linen +envelope. On its face it bore in typewriting, just like the card on the +drawer at Fortescue's, "E-M GUN." + +"It is the original envelope that contained the final plans of the +electro-magnetic gun," he explained, opening it. + +The envelope was empty. We looked at each other a moment in silence. +What had been done with the plans? + +Suddenly a bell rang, startling me beyond measure. It was, however, +only the telephone, of which an extension reached up into the +attic-arsenal. Some one, who did not know that we were there, was +evidently calling up. + +Kennedy quickly unhooked the receiver with a hasty motion to me to be +silent. + +"Hello," I heard him answer. "Yes, this is it." + +He had disguised his voice. I waited anxiously and watched his face to +gather what response he received. + +"The deuce!" he exclaimed, with his hand over the transmitter so that +his voice would not be heard at the other end of the line. + +"What's the matter?" I asked eagerly. + +"It was Mrs. Annenberg--I am sure. But she was too keen for me. She +caught on. There must be some password or form of expression that they +use, which we don't know, for she hung up the receiver almost as soon +as she heard me." + +Kennedy waited a minute or so. Then he whistled into the transmitter. +It was done apparently to see whether there was anyone listening. But +there was no answer. + +"Operator, operator!" he called insistently, moving the hook up and +down. "Yes, operator. Can you tell me what number that was which just +called?" + +He waited impatiently. + +"Bleecker--7l80," he repeated after the girl. "Thank you. Information, +please." + +Again we waited, as Craig tried to trace the call up. + +"What is the street address of Bleecker, 7180?" he asked. "Five hundred +and one East Fifth--a tenement. Thank you." + +"A tenement?" I repeated blankly. + +"Yes," he cried, now for the first time excited. "Don't you begin to +see the scheme? I'll wager that Baron Kreiger has been lured to New +York to purchase the electro-magnetic gun which they have stolen from +Fortescue and the British. That is the bait that is held out to him by +the woman. Call up Miss Lowe at the laboratory and see if she knows the +place." + +I gave central the number, while he fell to at the little secret drawer +of the desk again. The grinding of the wheels of a passing trolley +interfered somewhat with giving the number and I had to wait a moment. + +"Ah--Walter--here's the list!" almost shouted Kennedy, as he broke open +a black-japanned dispatch box in the desk. + +I bent over it, as far as the slack of the telephone wire of the +receiver at my ear would permit. Annenberg had worked with amazing care +and neatness on the list, even going so far as to draw at the top, in +black, a death's head. The rest of it was elaborately prepared in +flaming red ink. + +Craig gasped to observe the list of world-famous men marked for +destruction in London, Paris, Berlin, Rome, Vienna, St. Petersburg, and +even in New York and Washington. + +"What is the date set?" I asked, still with my ear glued to the +receiver. + +"To-night and to-morrow," he replied, stuffing the fateful sheet into +his pocket. + +Rummaging about in the drawer of the table, I had come to a package of +gold-tipped cigarettes which had interested me and I had left them out. +Kennedy was now looking at them curiously. + +"What is to be the method, do you suppose?" I asked. + +"By a poison that is among the most powerful, approaching even +cyanogen," he replied confidently, tapping the cigarettes. "Do you +smell the odor in this room? What is it like?" + +"Stale tobacco," I replied. + +"Exactly--nicotine. Two or three drops on the mouth-end of a cigar or +cigarette. The intended victim thinks it is only natural. But it is the +purest form of the deadly alkaloid--fatal in a few minutes, too." + +He examined the thin little cigarettes more carefully. "Nicotine," he +went on, "was about the first alkaloid that was recovered from the body +by chemical analysis in a homicide case. That is the penetrating, +persistent odor you smelled at Fortescue's and also here. It's a very +good poison--if you are not particular about being discovered. A pound +of ordinary smoking tobacco contains from a half to an ounce of it. It +is almost entirely consumed by combustion; otherwise a pipeful would be +fatal. Of course they may have thought that investigators would believe +that their victims were inveterate smokers. But even the worst tobacco +fiend wouldn't show traces of the weed to such an extent." + +Miss Lowe answered at last and Kennedy took the telephone. + +"What is at five hundred and one East Fifth?" he asked. + +"A headquarters of the Group in the city," she answered. "Why?" + +"Well, I believe that the plans of that gun are there and that the +Baron--" + +"You damned spies!" came a voice from behind us. + +Kennedy dropped the receiver, turning quickly, his automatic gleaming +in his hand. + +There was just a glimpse of a man with glittering bright blue eyes that +had an almost fiendish, baleful glare. An instant later the door which +had so unexpectedly opened banged shut, we heard a key turn in the +lock--and the man dropped to the floor before even Kennedy's automatic +could test its ability to penetrate wood on a chance at hitting +something the other side of it. + +We were prisoners! + +My mind worked automatically. At this very moment, perhaps, Baron +Kreiger might be negotiating for the electro-magnetic gun. We had found +out where he was, in all probability, but we were powerless to help +him. I thought of Miss Lowe, and picked up the receiver which Kennedy +had dropped. + +She did not answer. The wire had been cut. We were isolated! + +Kennedy had jumped to the window. I followed to restrain him, fearing +that he had some mad scheme for climbing out. Instead, quickly he +placed a peculiar arrangement, from the little package he had brought, +holding it to his eye as if sighting it, his right hand grasping a +handle as one holds a stereoscope. A moment later, as I examined it +more closely, I saw that instead of looking at anything he had before +him a small parabolic mirror turned away from him. + +His finger pressed alternately on a button on the handle and I could +see that there flashed in the little mirror a minute incandescent lamp +which seemed to have a special filament arrangement. + +The glaring sun was streaming in at the window and I wondered what +could possibly be accomplished by the little light in competition with +the sun itself. + +"Signaling by electric light in the daytime may sound to you +ridiculous," explained Craig, still industriously flashing the light, +"but this arrangement with Professor Donath's signal mirror makes it +possible, all right. + +"I hadn't expected this, but I thought I might want to communicate with +Burke quickly. You see, I sight the lamp and then press the button +which causes the light in the mirror to flash. It seems a paradox that +a light like this can be seen from a distance of even five miles and +yet be invisible to one for whom it was not intended, but it is so. I +use the ordinary Morse code--two seconds for a dot, six for a dash with +a four-second interval." + +"What message did you send?" I asked. + +"I told him that Baron Kreiger was at five hundred and one East Fifth, +probably; to get the secret service office in New York by wire and have +them raid the place, then to come and rescue us. That was Annenberg. He +must have come up by that trolley we heard passing just before." + +The minutes seemed ages as we waited for Burke to start the machinery +of the raid and then come for us. + +"No--you can't have a cigarette--and if I had a pair of bracelets with +me, I'd search you myself," we heard a welcome voice growl outside the +door a few minutes later. "Look in that other pocket, Tom." + +The lock grated back and there stood Burke holding in a grip of steel +the undersized Annenberg, while the chauffeur who had driven our car +swung open the door. + +"I'd have been up sooner," apologized Burke, giving the anarchist an +extra twist just to let him know that he was at last in the hands of +the law, "only I figured that this fellow couldn't have got far away in +this God-forsaken Ducktown and I might as well pick him up while I had +a chance. That's a great little instrument of yours, Kennedy. I got +you, fine." + +Annenberg, seeing we were now four to one, concluded that discretion +was the better part of valor and ceased to struggle, though now and +then I could see he glanced at Kennedy out of the corner of his eye. To +every question he maintained a stolid silence. + +A few minutes later, with the arch anarchist safely pinioned between +us, we were speeding back toward New York, laying plans for Burke to +dispatch warnings abroad to those whose names appeared on the fatal +list, and at the same time to round up as many of the conspirators as +possible in America. + +As for Kennedy, his main interest now lay in Baron Kreiger and Paula. +While she had been driven frantic by the outcome of the terrible pact +into which she had been drawn, some one, undoubtedly, had been trying +to sell Baron Kreiger the gun that had been stolen from the American +inventor. Once they had his money and he had received the plans of the +gun, a fatal cigarette would be smoked. Could we prevent it? + +On we tore back to the city, across the bridge and down through the +canyons of East Side streets. + +At last we pulled up before the tenement at five hundred and one. As we +did so, one of Burke's men jumped out of the doorway. + +"Are we in time?" shouted Burke. + +"It's an awful mix-up," returned the man. "I can't make anything out of +it, so I ordered 'em all held here till you came." + +We pushed past without a word of criticism of his wonderful acumen. + +On the top floor we came upon a young man, bending over the form of a +girl who had fainted. On the floor of the middle of the room was a mass +of charred papers which had evidently burned a hole in the carpet +before they had been stamped out. Near by was an unlighted cigarette, +crushed flat on the floor. + +"How is she?" asked Kennedy anxiously of the young man, as he dropped +down on the other side of the girl. + +It was Paula. She had fainted, but was just now coming out of the +borderland of unconsciousness. + +"Was I in time? Had he smoked it?" she moaned weakly, as there swam +before her eyes, evidently, a hazy vision of our faces. + +Kennedy turned to the young man. + +"Baron Kreiger, I presume?" he inquired. + +The young man nodded. + +"Burke of the Secret Service," introduced Craig, indicating our friend. +"My name is Kennedy. Tell what happened." + +"I had just concluded a transaction," returned Kreiger in good but +carefully guarded English. "Suddenly the door burst open. She seized +these papers and dashed a cigarette out of my hands. The next instant +she had touched a match to them and had fallen in a faint almost in the +blaze. Strangest experience I ever had in my life. Then all these other +fellows came bursting in--said they were Secret Service men, too." + +Kennedy had no time to reply, for a cry from Annenberg directed our +attention to the next room where on a couch lay a figure all huddled up. + +As we looked we saw it was a woman, her head sweating profusely, and +her hands cold and clammy. There was a strange twitching of the muscles +of the face, the pupils of her eyes were widely dilated, her pulse weak +and irregular. Evidently her circulation had failed so that it +responded only feebly to stimulants, for her respiration was slow and +labored, with loud inspiratory gasps. + +Annenberg had burst with superhuman strength from Burke's grasp and was +kneeling by the side of his wife's deathbed. + +"It--was all Paula's fault--" gasped the woman. "I--knew I had +better--carry it through--like the Fortescue visit--alone." + +I felt a sense of reassurance at the words. At least my suspicions had +been unfounded. Paula was innocent of the murder of Fortescue. + +"Severe, acute nicotine poisoning," remarked Kennedy, as he rejoined us +a moment later. "There is nothing we can do--now." + +Paula moved at the words, as though they had awakened a new energy in +her. With a supreme effort she raised herself. + +"Then I--I failed?" she cried, catching sight of Kennedy. + +"No, Miss Lowe," he answered gently. "You won. The plans of the +terrible gun are destroyed. The Baron is safe. Mrs. Annenberg has +herself smoked one of the fatal cigarettes intended for him." + +Kreiger looked at us, uncomprehending. Kennedy picked up the crushed, +unlighted cigarette and laid it in the palm of his hand beside another, +half smoked, which he had found beside Mrs. Annenberg. + +"They are deadly," he said simply to Kreiger. "A few drops of pure +nicotine hidden by that pretty gilt tip would have accomplished all +that the bitterest anarchist could desire." + +All at once Kreiger seemed to realize what he had escaped so narrowly. +He turned toward Paula. The revulsion of her feelings at seeing him +safe was too much for her shattered nerves. + +With a faint little cry, she tottered. + +Before any of us could reach her, he had caught her in his arms and +imprinted a warm kiss on the insensible lips. + +"Some water--quick!" he cried, still holding her close. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE AIR PIRATE + + +Rounding up the "Group" took several days, and it proved to be a great +story for the Star. I was pretty fagged when it was all over, but there +was a great deal of satisfaction in knowing that we had frustrated one +of the most daring anarchist plots of recent years. + +"Can you arrange to spend the week-end with me at Stuyvesant +Verplanck's at Bluffwood?" asked Kennedy over the telephone, the +afternoon that I had completed my work on the newspaper of undoing what +Annenberg and the rest had attempted. + +"How long since society took you up?" I asked airily, adding, "Is it a +large house party you are getting up?" + +"You have heard of the so-called 'phantom bandit' of Bluffwood, haven't +you?" he returned rather brusquely, as though there was no time now for +bantering. + +I confess that in the excitement of the anarchists I had forgotten it, +but now I recalled that for several days I had been reading little +paragraphs about robberies on the big estates on the Long Island shore +of the Sound. One of the local correspondents had called the robber a +"phantom bandit," but I had thought it nothing more than an attempt to +make good copy out of a rather ordinary occurrence. + +"Well," he hurried on, "that's the reason why I have been 'taken up by +society,' as you so elegantly phrase it. From the secret hiding-places +of the boudoirs and safes of fashionable women at Bluffwood, thousands +of dollars' worth of jewels and other trinkets have mysteriously +vanished. Of course you'll come along. Why, it will be just the story +to tone up that alleged page of society news you hand out in the Sunday +Star. There--we're quits now. Seriously, though, Walter, it really +seems to be a very baffling case, or rather series of cases. The whole +colony out there is terrorized. They don't know who the robber is, or +how he operates, or who will be the next victim, but his skill and +success seem almost uncanny. Mr. Verplanck has put one of his cars at +my disposal and I'm up here at the laboratory gathering some apparatus +that may be useful. I'll pick you up anywhere between this and the +Bridge--how about Columbus Circle in half an hour?" + +"Good," I agreed, deciding quickly from his tone and manner of +assurance that it would be a case I could not afford to miss. + +The Stuyvesant Verplancks, I knew, were among the leaders of the rather +recherche society at Bluffwood, and the pace at which Bluffwood moved +and had its being was such as to guarantee a good story in one way or +another. + +"Why," remarked Kennedy, as we sped out over the picturesque roads of +the north shore of Long Island, "this fellow, or fellows, seems to have +taken the measure of all the wealthy members of the exclusive +organizations out there--the Westport Yacht Club, the Bluffwood Country +Club, the North Shore Hunt, and all of them. It's a positive scandal, +the ease with which he seems to come and go without detection, striking +now here, now there, often at places that it seems physically +impossible to get at, and yet always with the same diabolical skill and +success. One night he will take some baubles worth thousands, the next +pass them by for something apparently of no value at all, a piece of +bric-a-brac, a bundle of letters, anything." + +"Seems purposeless, insane, doesn't it?" I put in. + +"Not when he always takes something--often more valuable than money," +returned Craig. + +He leaned back in the car and surveyed the glimpses of bay and +countryside as we were whisked by the breaks in the trees. + +"Walter," he remarked meditatively, "have you ever considered the +possibilities of blackmail if the right sort of evidence were obtained +under this new 'white-slavery act'? Scandals that some of the fast set +may be inclined to wink at, that at worst used to end in Reno, become +felonies with federal prison sentences looming up in the background. +Think it over." + +Stuyvesant Verplanck had telephoned rather hurriedly to Craig earlier +in the day, retaining his services, but telling only in the briefest +way of the extent of the depredations, and hinting that more than +jewelry might be at stake. + +It was a pleasant ride, but we finished it in silence. Verplanck was, +as I recalled, a large masterful man, one of those who demanded and +liked large things--such as the estate of several hundred acres which +we at last entered. + +It was on a neck of land with the restless waters of the Sound on one +side and the calmer waters of the bay on the other. Westport Bay lay in +a beautifully wooded, hilly country, and the house itself was on an +elevation, with a huge sweep of terraced lawn before it down to the +water's edge. All around, for miles, were other large estates, a +veritable colony of wealth. + +As we pulled up under the broad stone porte-cochere, Verplanck, who had +been expecting us, led the way into his library, a great room, +literally crowded with curios and objects of art which he had collected +on his travels. It was a superb mental workshop, overlooking the bay, +with a stretch of several miles of sheltered water. + +"You will recall," began Verplanck, wasting no time over preliminaries, +but plunging directly into the subject, "that the prominent robberies +of late have been at seacoast resorts, especially on the shores of Long +Island Sound, within, say, a hundred miles of New York. There has been +a great deal of talk about dark and muffled automobiles that have +conveyed mysterious parties swiftly and silently across country. + +"My theory," he went on self-assertively, "is that the attack has been +made always along water routes. Under shadow of darkness, it is easy to +slip into one of the sheltered coves or miniature fiords with which the +north coast of the Island abounds, land a cut-throat crew primed with +exact information of the treasure on some of these estates. Once the +booty is secured, the criminal could put out again into the Sound +without leaving a clue." + +He seemed to be considering his theory. "Perhaps the robberies last +summer at Narragansett, Newport, and a dozen other New England places +were perpetrated by the same cracksman. I believe," he concluded, +lowering his voice, "that there plies to-day on the wide waters of the +Sound a slim, swift motor boat which wears the air of a pleasure craft, +yet is as black a pirate as ever flew the Jolly Roger. She may at this +moment be anchored off some exclusive yacht club, flying the +respectable burgee of the club--who knows?" + +He paused as if his deductions settled the case so far. He would have +resumed in the same vein, if the door had not opened. A lady in a +cobwebby gown entered the room. She was of middle age, but had retained +her youth with a skill that her sisters of less leisure always envy. +Evidently she had not expected to find anyone, yet nothing seemed to +disconcert her. + +"Mrs. Verplanck," her husband introduced, "Professor Kennedy and his +associate, Mr. Jameson--those detectives we have heard about. We were +discussing the robberies." + +"Oh, yes," she said, smiling, "my husband has been thinking of forming +himself into a vigilance committee. The local authorities are all at +sea." + +I thought there was a trace of something veiled in the remark and +fancied, not only then but later, that there was an air of constraint +between the couple. + +"You have not been robbed yourself?" queried Craig tentatively. + +"Indeed we have," exclaimed Verplanck quickly. "The other night I was +awakened by the noise of some one down here in this very library. I +fired a shot, wild, and shouted, but before I could get down here the +intruder had fled through a window, and half rolling down the terraces. +Mrs. Verplanck was awakened by the rumpus and both of us heard a +peculiar whirring noise." + +"Like an automobile muffled down," she put in. + +"No," he asserted vigorously, "more like a powerful motor boat, one +with the exhaust under water." + +"Well," she shrugged, "at any rate, we saw no one." + +"Did the intruder get anything?" + +"That's the lucky part. He had just opened this safe apparently and +begun to ransack it. This is my private safe. Mrs. Verplanck has +another built into her own room upstairs where she keeps her jewels." + +"It is not a very modern safe, is it?" ventured Kennedy. "The fellow +ripped off the outer casing with what they call a 'can-opener.'" + +"No. I keep it against fire rather than burglars. But he overlooked a +box of valuable heirlooms, some silver with the Verplanck arms. I think +I must have scared him off just in time. He seized a package in the +safe, but it was only some business correspondence. I don't relish +having lost it, particularly. It related to a gentlemen's agreement a +number of us had in the recent cotton corner. I suppose the Government +would like to have it. But--here's the point. If it is so easy to get +in and get away, no one in Bluffwood is safe." + +"Why, he robbed the Montgomery Carter place the other night," remarked +Mrs. Verplanck, "and almost got a lot of old Mrs. Carter's jewels as +well as stuff belonging to her son, Montgomery, Junior. That was the +first robbery. Mr. Carter, that is Junior--Monty, everyone calls +him--and his chauffeur almost captured the fellow, but he managed to +escape in the woods." + +"In the woods?" repeated Craig. + +Mrs. Verplanck nodded. "But they saved the loot he was about to take." + +"Oh, no one is safe any more," reiterated Verplanck. "Carter seems to +be the only one who has had a real chance at him, and he was able to +get away neatly." + +"But he's not the only one who got off without a loss," she put in +significantly. "The last visit--" Then she paused. + +"Where was the last attempt?" asked Kennedy. + +"At the house of Mrs. Hollingsworth--around the point on this side of +the bay. You can't see it from here." + +"I'd like to go there," remarked Kennedy. + +"Very well. Car or boat?" + +"Boat, I think." + +"Suppose we go in my little runabout, the Streamline II? She's as fast +as any ordinary automobile." + +"Very good. Then we can get an idea of the harbor." + +"I'll telephone first that we are coming," said Verplanck. + +"I think I'll go, too," considered Mrs. Verplanck, ringing for a heavy +wrap. + +"Just as you please," said Verplanck. + +The Streamline was a three-stepped boat which. Verplanck had built for +racing, a beautiful craft, managed much like a racing automobile. As +she started from the dock, the purring drone of her eight cylinders +sent her feathering over the waves like a skipping stone. She sank back +into the water, her bow leaping upward, a cloud of spray in her wake, +like a waterspout. + +Mrs. Hollingsworth was a wealthy divorcee, living rather quietly with +her two children, of whom the courts had awarded her the care. She was +a striking woman, one of those for whom the new styles of dress seem +especially to have been designed. I gathered, however, that she was not +on very good terms with the little Westport clique in which the +Verplancks moved, or at least not with Mrs. Verplanck. The two women +seemed to regard each other rather coldly, I thought, although Mr. +Verplanck, man-like, seemed to scorn any distinctions and was more than +cordial. I wondered why Mrs. Verplanck had come. + +The Hollingsworth house was a beautiful little place down the bay from +the Yacht Club, but not as far as Verplanck's, or the Carter estate, +which was opposite. + +"Yes," replied Mrs. Hollingsworth when the reason for our visit had +been explained, "the attempt was a failure. I happened to be awake, +rather late, or perhaps you would call it early. I thought I heard a +noise as if some one was trying to break into the drawing-room through +the window. I switched on all the lights. I have them arranged so for +just that purpose of scaring off intruders. Then, as I looked out of my +window on the second floor, I fancied I could see a dark figure slink +into the shadow of the shrubbery at the side of the house. Then there +was a whirr. It might have been an automobile, although it sounded +differently from that--more like a motor boat. At any rate, there was +no trace of a car that we could discover in the morning. The road had +been oiled, too, and a car would have left marks. And yet some one was +here. There were marks on the drawing-room window just where I heard +the sounds." + +Who could it be? I asked myself as we left. I knew that the great army +of chauffeurs was infested with thieves, thugs and gunmen. Then, too, +there were maids, always useful as scouts for these corsairs who prey +on the rich. Yet so adroitly had everything been done in these cases +that not a clue seemed to have been left behind by which to trace the +thief. + +We returned to Verplanck's in the Streamline in record time, dined, and +then found McNeill, a local detective, waiting to add his quota of +information. McNeill was of the square-toed, double-chinned, +bull-necked variety, just the man to take along if there was any +fighting. He had, however, very little to add to the solution of the +mystery, apparently believing in the chauffeur-and-maid theory. + +It was too late to do anything more that night, and we sat on the +Verplanck porch, overlooking the beautiful harbor. It was a black, inky +night, with no moon, one of those nights when the myriad lights on the +boats were mere points in the darkness. As we looked out over the +water, considering the case which as yet we had hardly started on, +Kennedy seemed engrossed in the study in black. + +"I thought I saw a moving light for an instant across the bay, above +the boats, and as though it were in the darkness of the hills on the +other side. Is there a road over there, above the Carter house?" he +asked suddenly. + +"There is a road part of the way on the crest of the hill," replied +Mrs. Verplanck. "You can see a car on it, now and then, through the +trees, like a moving light." + +"Over there, I mean," reiterated Kennedy, indicating the light as it +flashed now faintly, then disappeared, to reappear further along, like +a gigantic firefly in the night. + +"N-no," said Verplanck. "I don't think the road runs down as far as +that. It is further up the bay." + +"What is it then?" asked Kennedy, half to himself. "It seems to be +traveling rapidly. Now it must be about opposite the Carter house. +There--it has gone." + +We continued to watch for several minutes, but it did not reappear. +Could it have been a light on the mast of a boat moving rapidly up the +bay and perhaps nearer to us than we suspected? Nothing further +happened, however, and we retired early, expecting to start with fresh +minds on the case in the morning. Several watchmen whom Verplanck +employed both on the shore and along the driveways were left guarding +every possible entrance to the estate. + +Yet the next morning as we met in the cheery east breakfast room, +Verplanck's gardener came in, hat in hand, with much suppressed +excitement. + +In his hand he held an orange which he had found in the shrubbery +underneath the windows of the house. In it was stuck a long nail and to +the nail was fastened a tag. + +Kennedy read it quickly. + +"If this had been a bomb, you and your detectives would never have +known what struck you. + +"AQUAERO." + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE ULTRA-VIOLET RAY + + +"Good Gad, man!" exclaimed Verplanck, who had read it over Craig's +shoulder. "What do you make of THAT?" + +Kennedy merely shook his head. Mrs. Verplanck was the calmest of all. + +"The light," I cried. "You remember the light? Could it have been a +signal to some one on this side of the bay, a signal light in the +woods?" + +"Possibly," commented Kennedy absently, adding, "Robbery with this +fellow seems to be an art as carefully strategized as a promoter's plan +or a merchant's trade campaign. I think I'll run over this morning and +see if there is any trace of anything on the Carter estate." + +Just then the telephone rang insistently. It was McNeill, much excited, +though he had not heard of the orange incident. Verplanck answered the +call. + +"Have you heard the news?" asked McNeill. "They report this morning +that that fellow must have turned up last night at Belle Aire." + +"Belle Aire? Why, man, that's fifty miles away and on the other side of +the island. He was here last night," and Verplanck related briefly the +find of the morning. "No boat could get around the island in that time +and as for a car--those roads are almost impossible at night." + +"Can't help it," returned McNeill doggedly. "The Halstead estate out at +Belle Aire was robbed last night. It's spooky all right." + +"Tell McNeill I want to see him--will meet him in the village +directly," cut in Craig before Verplanck had finished. + +We bolted a hasty breakfast and in one of Verplanck's cars hurried to +meet McNeill. + +"What do you intend doing?" he asked helplessly, as Kennedy finished +his recital of the queer doings of the night before. + +"I'm going out now to look around the Carter place. Can you come along?" + +"Surely," agreed McNeill, climbing into the car. "You know him?" + +"No." + +"Then I'll introduce you. Queer chap, Carter. He's a lawyer, although I +don't think he has much practice, except managing his mother's estate." + +McNeill settled back in the luxurious car with an exclamation of +satisfaction. + +"What do you think of Verplanck?" he asked. + +"He seems to me to be a very public-spirited man," answered Kennedy +discreetly. + +That, however, was not what McNeill meant and he ignored it. And so for +the next ten minutes we were entertained with a little retail scandal +of Westport and Bluffwood, including a tale that seemed to have gained +currency that Verplanck and Mrs. Hollingsworth were too friendly to +please Mrs. Verplanck. I set the whole thing down to the hostility and +jealousy of the towns people who misinterpret everything possible in +the smart set, although I could not help recalling how quickly she had +spoken when we had visited the Hollingsworth house in the Streamline +the day before. + +Montgomery Carter happened to be at home and, at least openly, +interposed no objection to our going about the grounds. + +"You see," explained Kennedy, watching the effect of his words as if to +note whether Carter himself had noticed anything unusual the night +before, "we saw a light moving over here last night. To tell the truth, +I half expected you would have a story to add to ours, of a second +visit." + +Carter smiled. "No objection at all. I'm simply nonplussed at the nerve +of this fellow, coming back again. I guess you've heard what a narrow +squeak he had with me. You're welcome to go anywhere, just so long as +you don't disturb my study down there in the boathouse. I use that +because it overlooks the bay--just the place to study over knotty legal +problems." + +Back of, or in front of the Carter house, according as you fancied it +faced the bay or not, was the boathouse, built by Carter's father, who +had been a great yachtsman in his day and commodore of the club. His +son had not gone in much for water sports and had converted the corner +underneath a sort of observation tower into a sort of country law +office. + +"There has always seemed to me to be something strange about that +boathouse since the old man died," remarked McNeill in a half whisper +as we left Carter. "He always keeps it locked and never lets anyone go +in there, although they say he has it fitted beautifully with hundreds +of volumes of law books, too." + +Kennedy had been climbing the hill back of the house and now paused to +look about. Below was the Carter garage. + +"By the way," exclaimed McNeill, as if he had at last hit on a great +discovery, "Carter has a new chauffeur, a fellow named Wickham. I just +saw him driving down to the village. He's a chap that it might pay us +to watch--a newcomer, smart as a steel trap, they say, but not much of +a talker." + +"Suppose you take that job--watch him," encouraged Kennedy. "We can't +know too much about strangers here, McNeill." + +"That's right," agreed the detective. "I'll follow him back to the +village and get a line on him." + +"Don't be easily discouraged," added Kennedy, as McNeill started down +the hill to the garage. "If he is a fox he'll try to throw you off the +trail. Hang on." + +"What was that for?" I asked as the detective disappeared. "Did you +want to get rid of him?" + +"Partly," replied Craig, descending slowly, after a long survey of the +surrounding country. + +We had reached the garage, deserted now except for our own car. + +"I'd like to investigate that tower," remarked Kennedy with a keen look +at me, "if it could be done without seeming to violate Mr. Carter's +hospitality." + +"Well," I observed, my eye catching a ladder beside the garage, +"there's a ladder. We can do no more than try." + +He walked over to the automobile, took a little package out, slipped it +into his pocket, and a few minutes later we had set the ladder up +against the side of the boathouse farthest away from the house. It was +the work of only a moment for Kennedy to scale it and prowl across the +roof to the tower, while I stood guard at the foot. + +"No one has been up there recently," he panted breathlessly as he +rejoined me. "There isn't a sign." + +We took the ladder quietly back to the garage, then Kennedy led the way +down the shore to a sort of little summerhouse cut off from the +boathouse and garage by the trees, though over the top of a hedge one +could still see the boathouse tower. + +We sat down, and Craig filled his lungs with the good salt air, +sweeping his eye about the blue and green panorama as though this were +a holiday and not a mystery case. + +"Walter," he said at length, "I wish you'd take the car and go around +to Verplanck's. I don't think you can see the tower through the trees, +but I should like to be sure." + +I found that it could not be seen, though I tried all over the place +and got myself disliked by the gardener and suspected by a watchman +with a dog. + +It could not have been from the tower of the boathouse that we had seen +the light, and I hurried back to Craig to tell him so. But when I +returned, I found that he was impatiently pacing the little rustic +summerhouse, no longer interested in what he had sent me to find out. + +"What has happened?" I asked eagerly. + +"Just come out here and I'll show you something," he replied, leaving +the summerhouse and approaching the boathouse from the other side of +the hedge, on the beach, so that the house itself cut us off from +observation from Carter's. + +"I fixed a lens on the top of that tower when I was up there," he +explained, pointing up at it. "It must be about fifty feet high. From +there, you see, it throws a reflection down to this mirror. I did it +because through a skylight in the tower I could read whatever was +written by anyone sitting at Carter's desk in the corner under it." + +"Read?" I repeated, mystified. + +"Yes, by invisible light," he continued. "This invisible light +business, you know, is pretty well understood by this time. I was only +repeating what was suggested once by Professor Wood of Johns Hopkins. +Practically all sources of light, you understand, give out more or less +ultraviolet light, which plays no part in vision whatever. The human +eye is sensitive to but few of the light rays that reach it, and if our +eyes were constituted just the least bit differently we should have an +entirely different set of images. + +"But by the use of various devices we can, as it were, translate these +ultraviolet rays into terms of what the human eye can see. In order to +do it, all the visible light rays which show us the thing as we see +it--the tree green, the sky blue--must be cut off. So in taking an +ultraviolet photograph a screen must be used which will be opaque to +these visible rays and yet will let the ultraviolet rays through to +form the image. That gave Professor Wood a lot of trouble. Glass won't +do, for glass cuts off the ultraviolet rays entirely. Quartz is a very +good medium, but it does not cut off all the visible light. In fact +there is only one thing that will do the work, and that is metallic +silver." + +I could not fathom what he was driving at, but the fascination of +Kennedy himself was quite sufficient. + +"Silver," he went on, "is all right if the objects can be illuminated +by an electric spark or some other source rich in the rays. But it +isn't entirely satisfactory when sunlight is concerned, for various +reasons that I need not bore you with. Professor Wood has worked out a +process of depositing nickel on glass. That's it up there," he +concluded, wheeling a lower reflector about until it caught the image +of the afternoon sun thrown from the lens on the top of the tower. + +"You see," he resumed, "that upper lens is concave so that it enlarges +tremendously. I can do some wonderful tricks with that." + +I had been lighting a cigarette and held a box of safety wind matches +in my hand. + +"Give me that matchbox," he asked. + +He placed it at the foot of the tower. Then he went off, I should say, +without exaggeration, a hundred feet. + +The lettering on the matchbox could be seen in the silvered mirror, +enlarged to such a point that the letters were plainly visible! + +"Think of the possibilities in that," he added excitedly. "I saw them +at once. You can read what some one is writing at a desk a hundred, +perhaps two hundred feet away." + +"Yes," I cried, more interested in the practical aspects of it than in +the mechanics and optics. "What have you found?" + +"Some one came into the boathouse while you were away," he said. "He +had a note. It read, 'Those new detectives are watching everything. We +must have the evidence. You must get those letters to-night, without +fail.'" + +"Letters--evidence," I repeated. "Who wrote it? Who received it?" + +"I couldn't see over the hedge who had entered the boathouse, and by +the time I got around here he was gone." + +"Was it Wickham--or intended for Wickham?" I asked. + +Kennedy shrugged his shoulders. + +"We'll gain nothing by staying here," he said. "There is just one +possibility in the case, and I can guard against that only by returning +to Verplanck's and getting some of that stuff I brought up here with +me. Let us go." + +Late in the afternoon though it was, after our return, Kennedy insisted +on hurrying from Verplanck's to the Yacht Club up the bay. It was a +large building, extending out into the water on made land, from which +ran a long, substantial dock. He had stopped long enough only to ask +Verplanck to lend him the services of his best mechanician, a Frenchman +named Armand. + +On the end of the yacht club dock Kennedy and Armand set up a large +affair which looked like a mortar. I watched curiously, dividing my +attention between them and the splendid view of the harbor which the +end of the dock commanded on all sides. + +"What is this?" I asked finally. "Fireworks?" + +"A rocket mortar of light weight," explained Kennedy, then dropped into +French as he explained to Armand the manipulation of the thing. + +There was a searchlight near by on the dock. + +"You can use that?" queried Kennedy. + +"Oh, yes. Mr. Verplanck, he is vice-commodore of the club. Oh, yes, I +can use that. Why, Monsieur?" + +Kennedy had uncovered a round brass case. It did not seem to amount to +much, as compared to some of the complicated apparatus he had used. In +it was a four-sided prism of glass--I should have said, cut off the +corner of a huge glass cube. + +He handed it to us. + +"Look in it," he said. + +It certainly was about the most curious piece of crystal gazing I had +ever done. Turn the thing any way I pleased and I could see my face in +it, just as in an ordinary mirror. + +"What do you call it?" Armand asked, much interested. + +"A triple mirror," replied Kennedy, and again, half in English and half +in French, neither of which I could follow, he explained the use of the +mirror to the mechanician. + +We were returning up the dock, leaving Armand with instructions to be +at the club at dusk, when we met McNeill, tired and disgusted. + +"What luck?" asked Kennedy. + +"Nothing," he returned. "I had a 'short' shadow and a 'long' shadow at +Wickham's heels all day. You know what I mean. Instead of one man, +two--the second sleuthing in the other's tracks. If he escaped Number +One, Number Two would take it up, and I was ready to move up into +Number Two's place. They kept him in sight about all the time. Not a +fact. But then, of course, we don't know what he was doing before we +took up tailing him. Say," he added, "I have just got word from an +agency with which I correspond in New York that it is reported that a +yeggman named 'Australia Mac,' a very daring and clever chap, has been +attempting to dispose of some of the goods which we know have been +stolen through one of the worst 'fences' in New York." + +"Is that all?" asked Craig, with the mention of Australia Mac showing +the first real interest yet in anything that McNeill had done since we +met him the night before. + +"All so far. I wired for more details immediately." + +"Do you know anything about this Australia Mac?" + +"Not much. No one does. He's a new man, it seems, to the police here." + +"Be here at eight o'clock, McNeill," said Craig, as we left the club +for Verplanck's. "If you can find out more about this yeggman, so much +the better." + +"Have you made any progress?" asked Verplanck as we entered the estate +a few minutes later. + +"Yes," returned Craig, telling only enough to whet his interest. +"There's a clue, as I half expected, from New York, too. But we are so +far away that we'll have to stick to my original plan. You can trust +Armand?" + +"Absolutely." + +"Then we shall transfer our activity to the Yacht Club to-night," was +all that Kennedy vouchsafed. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE TRIPLE MIRROR + + +It was the regular Saturday night dance at the club, a brilliant +spectacle, faces that radiated pleasure, gowns that for startling +combinations of color would have shamed a Futurist, music that set the +feet tapping irresistibly--a scene which I shall pass over because it +really has no part in the story. + +The fascination of the ballroom was utterly lost on Craig. "Think of +all the houses only half guarded about here to-night," he mused, as we +joined Armand and McNeill on the end of the dock. I could not help +noting that that was the only idea which the gay, variegated, sparkling +tango throng conveyed to him. + +In front of the club was strung out a long line of cars, and at the +dock several speed boats of national and international reputation, +among them the famous Streamline II, at our instant beck and call. In +it Craig had already placed some rather bulky pieces of apparatus, as +well as a brass case containing a second triple mirror like that which +he had left with Armand. + +With McNeill, I walked back along the pier, leaving Kennedy with +Armand, until we came to the wide porch, where we joined the +wallflowers and the rocking-chair fleet. Mrs. Verplanck, I observed, +was a beautiful dancer. I picked her out in the throng immediately, +dancing with Carter. + +McNeill tugged at my sleeve. Without a word I saw what he meant me to +see. Verplanck and Mrs. Hollingsworth were dancing together. Just then, +across the porch I caught sight of Kennedy at one of the wide windows. +He was trying to attract Verplanck's attention, and as he did so I +worked my way through the throng of chatting couples leaving the floor +until I reached him. Verplanck, oblivious, finished the dance; then, +seeming to recollect that he had something to attend to, caught sight +of us, and ran off during the intermission from the gay crowd to which +he resigned Mrs. Hollingsworth. + +"What is it?" he asked. + +"There's that light down the bay," whispered Kennedy. + +Instantly Verplanck forgot about the dance. + +"Where?" he asked. + +"In the same place." + +I had not noticed, but Mrs. Verplanck, woman-like, had been able to +watch several things at once. She had seen us and had joined us. + +"Would you like to run down there in the Streamline?" he asked. "It +will only take a few minutes." + +"Very much." + +"What is it--that light again?" she asked, as she joined us in walking +down the dock. + +"Yes," answered her husband, pausing to look for a moment at the stuff +Kennedy had left with Armand. Mrs. Verplanck leaned over the +Streamline, turned as she saw me, and said: "I wish I could go with +you. But evening dress is not the thing for a shivery night in a speed +boat. I think I know as much about it as Mr. Verplanck. Are you going +to leave Armand?" + +"Yes," replied Kennedy, taking his place beside Verplanck, who was +seated at the steering wheel. "Walter and McNeill, if you two will sit +back there, we're ready. All right." + +Armand had cast us off and Mrs. Verplanck waved from the end of the +float as the Streamline quickly shot out into the night, a buzzing, +throbbing shape of mahogany and brass, with her exhausts sticking out +like funnels and booming like a pipe organ. It took her only seconds to +eat into the miles. + +"A little more to port," said Kennedy, as Verplanck swung her around. + +Just then the steady droning of the engine seemed a bit less +rhythmical. Verplanck throttled her down, but it had no effect. He shut +her off. Something was wrong. As he crawled out into the space forward +of us where the engine was, it seemed as if the Streamline had broken +down suddenly and completely. + +Here we were floundering around in the middle of the bay. + +"Chuck-chuck-chuck," came in quick staccato out of the night. It was +Montgomery Carter, alone, on his way across the bay from the club, in +his own boat. + +"Hello--Carter," called Verplanck. + +"Hello, Verplanck. What's the matter?" + +"Don't know. Engine trouble of some kind. Can you give us a line?" + +"I've got to go down to the house," he said, ranging up near us. "Then +I can take you back. Perhaps I'd better get you out of the way of any +other boats first. You don't mind going over and then back?" + +Verplanck looked at Craig. "On the contrary," muttered Craig, as he +made fast the welcome line. + +The Carter dock was some three miles from the club on the other side of +the bay. As we came up to it, Carter shut off his engine, bent over it +a moment, made fast, and left us with a hurried, "Wait here." + +Suddenly, overhead, we heard a peculiar whirring noise that seemed to +vibrate through the air. Something huge, black, monster-like, slid down +a board runway into the water, traveled a few feet, in white suds and +spray, rose in the darkness--and was gone! + +As the thing disappeared, I thought I could hear a mocking laugh flung +back at us. + +"What is it?" I asked, straining my eyes at what had seemed for an +instant like a great flying fish with finny tail and huge fins at the +sides and above. + +"'Aquaero,'" quoted Kennedy quickly. "Don't you understand--a +hydroaeroplane--a flying boat. There are hundreds of privately owned +flying boats now wherever there is navigable water. That was the secret +of Carter's boathouse, of the light we saw in the air." + +"But this Aquaero--who is he?" persisted McNeill. +"Carter--Wickham--Australia Mac?" + +We looked at each other blankly. No one said a word. We were captured, +just as effectively as if we were ironed in a dungeon. There were the +black water, the distant lights, which at any other time I should have +said would have been beautiful. + +Kennedy had sprung into Carter's boat. + +"The deuce," he exclaimed. "He's put her out of business." + +Verplanck, chagrined, had been going over his own engine feverishly. +"Do you see that?" he asked suddenly, holding up in the light of a +lantern a little nut which he had picked out of the complicated +machinery. "It never belonged to this engine. Some one placed it there, +knowing it would work its way into a vital part with the vibration." + +Who was the person, the only one who could have done it? The answer was +on my lips, but I repressed it. Mrs. Verplanck herself had been bending +over the engine when last I saw her. All at once it flashed over me +that she knew more about the phantom bandit than she had admitted. Yet +what possible object could she have had in putting the Streamline out +of commission? + +My mind was working rapidly, piecing together the fragmentary facts. +The remark of Kennedy, long before, instantly assumed new significance. +What were the possibilities of blackmail in the right sort of evidence? +The yeggman had been after what was more valuable than jewels--letters! +Whose? Suddenly I saw the situation. Carter had not been robbed at all. +He was in league with the robber. That much was a blind to divert +suspicion. He was a lawyer--some one's lawyer. I recalled the message +about letters and evidence, and as I did so there came to mind a +picture of Carter and the woman he had been dancing with. In return for +his inside information about the jewels of the wealthy homes of +Bluffwood, the yeggman was to get something of interest and importance +to his client. + +The situation called for instant action. Yet what could we do, marooned +on the other side of the bay? + +From the Club dock a long finger of light swept out into the night, +plainly enough near the dock, but diffused and disclosing nothing in +the distance. Armand had trained it down the bay in the direction we +had taken, but by the time the beam reached us it was so weak that it +was lost. + +Craig had leaped up on the Carter dock and was capping and uncapping +with the brass cover the package which contained the triple mirror. + +Still in the distance I could see the wide path of light, aimed toward +us, but of no avail. + +"What are you doing?" I asked. + +"Using the triple mirror to signal to Armand. It is something better +than wireless. Wireless requires heavy and complicated apparatus. This +is portable, heatless, almost weightless, a source of light depending +for its power on another source of light at a great distance." + +I wondered how Armand could ever detect its feeble ray. + +"Even in the case of a rolling ship," Kennedy continued, alternately +covering and uncovering the mirror, "the beam of light which this +mirror reflects always goes back, unerring, to its source. It would do +so from an aeroplane, so high in the air that it could not be located. +The returning beam is invisible to anyone not immediately in the path +of the ray, and the ray always goes to the observer. It is simply a +matter of pure mathematics practically applied. The angle of incidence +equals the angle of reflection. There is not a variation of a foot in +two miles." + +"What message are you sending him?" asked Verplanck. + +"To tell Mrs. Hollingsworth to hurry home immediately," Kennedy +replied, still flashing the letters according to his code. + +"Mrs. Hollingsworth?" repeated Verplanck, looking up. + +"Yes. This hydroaeroplane yeggman is after something besides jewels +to-night. Were those letters that were stolen from you the only ones +you had in the safe?" + +Verplanck looked up quickly. "Yes, yes. Of course." + +"You had none from a woman--" + +"No," he almost shouted. Of a sudden it seemed to dawn on him what +Kennedy was driving at--the robbery of his own house with no loss +except of a packet of letters on business, followed by the attempt on +Mrs. Hollingsworth. "Do you think I'd keep dynamite, even in the safe?" + +To hide his confusion he had turned and was bending again over the +engine. + +"How is it?" asked Kennedy, his signaling over. + +"Able to run on four cylinders and one propeller," replied Verplanck. + +"Then let's try her. Watch the engine. I'll take the wheel." + +Limping along, the engine skipping and missing, the once peerless +Streamline started back across the bay. Instead of heading toward the +club, Kennedy pointed her bow somewhere between that and Verplanck's. + +"I wish Armand would get busy," he remarked, after glancing now and +then in the direction of the club. "What can be the matter?" + +"What do you mean?" I asked. + +There came the boom as if of a gun far away in the direction in which +he was looking, then another. + +"Oh, there it is. Good fellow. I suppose he had to deliver my message +to Mrs. Hollingsworth himself first." + +From every quarter showed huge balls of fire, rising from the sea, as +it were, with a brilliantly luminous flame. + +"What is it?" I asked, somewhat startled. + +"A German invention for use at night against torpedo and aeroplane +attacks. From that mortar Armand has shot half a dozen bombs of +phosphide of calcium which are hurled far into the darkness. They are +so constructed that they float after a short plunge and are ignited on +contact by the action of the salt water itself." + +It was a beautiful pyrotechnic display, lighting up the shore and hills +of the bay as if by an unearthly flare. + +"There's that thing now!" exclaimed Kennedy. + +In the glow we could see a peculiar, birdlike figure flying through the +air over toward the Hollingsworth house. It was the hydroaeroplane. + +Out from the little stretch of lawn under the accentuated shadow of the +trees, she streaked into the air, swaying from side to side as the +pilot operated the stabilizers on the ends of the planes to counteract +the puffs of wind off the land. + +How could she ever be stopped? + +The Streamline, halting and limping, though she was, had almost crossed +the bay before the light bombs had been fired by Armand. Every moment +brought the flying boat nearer. + +She swerved. Evidently the pilot had seen us at last and realized who +we were. I was so engrossed watching the thing that I had not noticed +that Kennedy had given the wheel to Verplanck and was standing in the +bow, endeavoring to sight what looked like a huge gun. + +In rapid succession half a dozen shots rang out. I fancied I could +almost hear the ripping and tearing of the tough rubber-coated silken +wings of the hydroaeroplane as the wind widened the perforation the gun +had made. + +She had not been flying high, but now she swooped down almost like a +gull, seeking to rest on the water. We were headed toward her now, and +as the flying boat sank I saw one of the passengers rise in his seat, +swing his arm, and far out something splashed in the bay. + +On the water, with wings helpless, the flying boat was no match for the +Streamline now. She struck at an acute angle, rebounded in the air for +a moment, and with a hiss skittered along over the waves, planing with +the help of her exhaust under the step of the boat. + +There she was, a hull, narrow, scow-bowed, like a hydroplane, with a +long pointed stern and a cockpit for two men, near the bow. There were +two wide, winglike planes, on a light latticework of wood covered with +silk, trussed and wired like a kite frame, the upper plane about five +feet above the lower, which was level with the boat deck. We could see +the eight-cylindered engine which drove a two-bladed wooden propeller, +and over the stern were the air rudder and the horizontal planes. There +she was, the hobbled steed now of the phantom bandit who had +accomplished the seemingly impossible. + +In spite of everything, however, the flying boat reached the shore a +trifle ahead of us. As she did so both figures in her jumped, and one +disappeared quickly up the bank, leaving the other alone. + +"Verplanck, McNeill--get him," cried Kennedy, as our own boat grated on +the beach. "Come, Walter, we'll take the other one." + +The man had seen that there was no safety in flight. Down the shore he +stood, without a hat, his hair blown pompadour by the wind. + +As we approached Carter turned superciliously, unbuttoning his bulky +khaki life preserver jacket. + +"Well?" he asked coolly. + +Not for a moment did Kennedy allow the assumed coolness to take him +back, knowing that Carter's delay did not cover the retreat of the +other man. + +"So," Craig exclaimed, "you are the--the air pirate?" + +Carter disdained to reply. + +"It was you who suggested the millionaire households, full of jewels, +silver and gold, only half guarded; you, who knew the habits of the +people; you, who traded that information in return for another piece of +thievery by your partner, Australia Mac--Wickham he called himself here +in Bluffwood. It was you---" + +A car drove up hastily, and I noted that we were still on the +Hollingsworth estate. Mrs. Hollingsworth had seen us and had driven +over toward us. + +"Montgomery!" she cried, startled. + +"Yes," said Kennedy quickly, "air pirate and lawyer for Mrs. Verplanck +in the suit which she contemplated bringing--" + +Mrs. Hollingsworth grew pale under the ghastly, flickering light from +the bay. + +"Oh!" she cried, realizing at what Kennedy hinted, "the letters!" + +"At the bottom of the harbor, now," said Kennedy. "Mr. Verplanck tells +me he has destroyed his. The past is blotted out as far as that is +concerned. The future is--for you three to determine. For the present +I've caught a yeggman and a blackmailer." + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE WIRELESS WIRETAPPERS + + +Kennedy did not wait at Bluffwood longer than was necessary. It was +easy enough now to silence Montgomery Carter, and the reconciliation of +the Verplancks was assured. In the Star I made the case appear at the +time to involve merely the capture of Australia Mac. + +When I dropped into the office the next day as usual, I found that I +had another assignment that would take me out on Long Island. The story +looked promising and I was rather pleased to get it. + +"Bound for Seaville, I'll wager," sounded a familiar voice in my ear, +as I hurried up to the train entrance at the Long Island corner of the +Pennsylvania Station. + +I turned quickly, to find Kennedy just behind me, breathless and +perspiring. + +"Er--yes," I stammered in surprise at seeing him so unexpectedly, "but +where did you come from? How did you know?" + +"Let me introduce Mr. Jack Waldon," he went on, as we edged our way +toward the gate, "the brother of Mrs. Tracy Edwards, who disappeared so +strangely from the houseboat Lucie last night at Seaville. That is the +case you're going to write up, isn't it?" + +It was then for the first time that I noticed the excited young man +beside Kennedy was really his companion. + +I shook hands with Waldon, who gave me a grip that was both a greeting +and an added impulse in our general direction through the wicket. + +"Might have known the Star would assign you to this Edwards case," +panted Kennedy, mopping his forehead, for the heat in the terminal was +oppressive and the crowd, though not large, was closely packed. "Mr. +Jameson is my right-hand man," he explained to Waldon, taking us each +by the arm and urging us forward. "Waldon was afraid we might miss the +train or I should have tried to get you, Walter, at the office." + +It was all done so suddenly that they quite took away what remaining +breath I had, as we settled ourselves to swelter in the smoker instead +of in the concourse. I did not even protest at the matter-of-fact +assurance with which Craig assumed that his deduction as to my +destination was correct. + +Waldon, a handsome young fellow in a flannel suit and yachting cap +somewhat the worse for his evidently perturbed state of mind, seemed to +eye me for the moment doubtfully, in spite of Kennedy's cordial +greeting. + +"I've had all the first editions of the evening papers," I hinted as we +sped through the tunnel, "but the stories seemed to be quite the +same--pretty meager in details." + +"Yes," returned Waldon with a glance at Kennedy, "I tried to keep as +much out of the papers as I could just now for Lucie's sake." + +"You needn't fear Jameson," remarked Kennedy. + +He fumbled in his pocket, then paused a moment and shot a glance of +inquiry at Waldon, who nodded a mute acquiescence to him. + +"There seem to have been a number of very peculiar disappearances +lately," resumed Kennedy, "but this case of Mrs. Edwards is by far the +most extraordinary. Of course the Star hasn't had that--yet," he +concluded, handing me a sheet of notepaper. + +"Mr. Waldon didn't give it out, hoping to avoid scandal." + +I took the paper and read eagerly, in a woman's hand: + +"MY DEAR MISS FOX: I have been down here at Seaville on our houseboat, +the Lucie, for several days for a purpose which now is accomplished. + +"Already I had my suspicions of you, from a source which I need not +name. Therefore, when the Kronprinz got into wireless communication +with the station at Seaville I determined through our own wireless on +the Lucie to overhear whether there would be any exchange of messages +between my husband and yourself. + +"I was able to overhear the whole thing and I want you to know that +your secret is no longer a secret from me, and that I have already told +Mr. Edwards that I know it. You ruin his life by your intimacy which +you seem to want to keep up, although you know you have no right to do +it, but you shall not ruin mine. + +"I am thoroughly disillusioned now. I have not decided on what steps to +take, but--" + +Only a casual glance was necessary to show me that the writing seemed +to grow more and more weak as it progressed, and the note stopped +abruptly, as if the writer had been suddenly interrupted or some new +idea had occurred to her. + +Hastily I tried to figure it out. Lucie Waldon, as everybody knew, was +a famous beauty, a marvel of charm and daintiness, slender, with big, +soulful, wistful eyes. Her marriage to Tracy Edwards, the wealthy +plunger and stockbroker, had been a great social event the year before, +and it was reputed at the time that Edwards had showered her with +jewels and dresses to the wonder and talk even of society. + +As for Valerie Fox, I knew she had won quick recognition and even fame +as a dancer in New York during the previous winter, and I recalled +reading three or four days before that she had just returned on the +Kronprinz from a trip abroad. + +"I don't suppose you have had time to see Miss Fox," I remarked. "Where +is she?" + +"At Beach Park now, I think," replied Waldon, "a resort a few miles +nearer the city on the south shore, where there is a large colony of +actors." + +I handed back the letter to Kennedy. + +"What do you make of it?" he asked, as he folded it up and put it back +into his pocket. + +"I hardly know what to say," I replied. "Of course there have been +rumors, I believe, that all was not exactly like a honeymoon still with +the Tracy Edwardses." + +"Yes," returned Waldon slowly, "I know myself that there has been some +trouble, but nothing definite until I found this letter last night in +my sister's room. She never said anything about it either to mother or +myself. They haven't been much together during the summer, and last +night when she disappeared Tracy was in the city. But I hadn't thought +much about it before, for, of course, you know he has large financial +interests that make him keep in pretty close touch with New York and +this summer hasn't been a particularly good one on the stock exchange." + +"And," I put in, "a plunger doesn't always make the best of husbands. +Perhaps there is temperament to be reckoned with here." + +"There seem to be a good many things to be reckoned with," Craig +considered. "For example, here's a houseboat, the Lucie, a palatial +affair, cruising about aimlessly, with a beautiful woman on it. She +gives a little party, in the absence of her husband, to her brother, +his fiancee and her mother, who visit her from his yacht, the Nautilus. +They break up, those living on the Lucie going to their rooms and the +rest back to the yacht, which is anchored out further in the deeper +water of the bay. + +"Some time in the middle of the night her maid, Juanita, finds that she +is not in her room. Her brother is summoned back from his yacht and +finds that she has left this pathetic, unfinished letter. But otherwise +there is no trace of her. Her husband is notified and hurries out +there, but he can find no clue. Meanwhile, Mr. Waldon, in despair, +hurries down to the city to engage me quietly." + +"You remember I told you," suggested Waldon, "that my sister hadn't +been feeling well for several days. In fact it seemed that the sea air +wasn't doing her much good, and some one last night suggested that she +try the mountains." + +"Had there been anything that would foreshadow the--er--disappearance?" +asked Kennedy. + +"Only as I say, that for two or three days she seemed to be listless, +to be sinking by slow and easy stages into a sort of vacant, moody +state of ill health." + +"She had a doctor, I suppose?" I asked. + +"Yes, Dr. Jermyn, Tracy's own personal physician came down from the +city several days ago." + +"What did he say?" + +"He simply said that it was congestion of the lungs. As far as he could +see there was no apparent cause for it. I don't think he was very +enthusiastic about the mountain air idea. The fact is he was like a +good many doctors under the circumstances, noncommittal--wanted her +under observation, and all that sort of thing." + +"What's your opinion?" I pressed Craig. "Do you think she has run away?" + +"Naturally, I'd rather not attempt to say yet," Craig replied +cautiously. "But there are several possibilities. Yes, she might have +left the houseboat in some other boat, of course. Then there is the +possibility of accident. It was a hot night. She might have been +leaning from the window and have lost her balance. I have even thought +of drugs, that she might have taken something in her despondency and +have fallen overboard while under the influence of it. Then, of course, +there are the two deductions that everyone has made already--either +suicide or murder." + +Waldon had evidently been turning something over in his mind. + +"There was a wireless outfit aboard the houseboat," he ventured at +length. + +"What of that?" I asked, wondering why he was changing the subject so +abruptly. + +"Why, only this," he replied. "I have been reading about wireless a +good deal lately, and if the theories of some scientists are correct, +the wireless age is not without its dangers as well as its wonders. I +recall reading not long ago of a German professor who says there is no +essential difference between wireless waves and the X-rays, and we know +the terrible physical effects of X-rays. I believe he estimated that +only one three hundred millionth part of the electrical energy +generated by sending a message from one station to another near by is +actually used up in transmitting the message. The rest is dispersed in +the atmosphere. There must be a good deal of such stray electrical +energy about Seaville. Isn't it possible that it might hit some one +somewhere who was susceptible?" + +Kennedy said nothing. Waldon's was at least a novel idea, whether it +was plausible or not. The only way to test it out, as far as I could +determine, was to see whether it fitted with the facts after a careful +investigation of the case itself. + +It was still early in the day and the trains were not as crowded as +they would be later. Consequently our journey was comfortable enough +and we found ourselves at last at the little vine-covered station at +Seaville. + +One could almost feel that the gay summer colony was in a state of +subdued excitement. As we left the quaint station and walked down the +main street to the town wharf where we expected some one would be +waiting for us, it seemed as if the mysterious disappearance of the +beautiful Mrs. Edwards had put a damper on the life of the place. In +the hotels there were knots of people evidently discussing the affair, +for as we passed we could tell by their faces that they recognized us. +One or two bowed and would have joined us, if Waldon had given any +encouragement. But he did not stop, and we kept on down the street +quickly. + +I myself began to feel the spell of mystery about the case as I had not +felt it among the distractions of the city. Perhaps I imagined it, but +there even seemed to be something strange about the houseboat which we +could descry at anchor far down the bay as we approached the wharf. + +We were met, as Waldon had arranged, by a high-powered runabout, the +tender to his own yacht, a slim little craft of mahogany and brass, +driven like an automobile, and capable of perhaps twenty-five or thirty +miles an hour. We jumped in and were soon skimming over the waters of +the bay like a skipping stone. + +It was evident that Waldon was much relieved at having been able to +bring assistance, in which he had as much confidence as he reposed in +Kennedy. At any rate it was something to be nearing the scene of action +again. + +The Lucie was perhaps seventy feet long and a most attractive craft, +with a hull yachty in appearance and of a type which could safely make +long runs along the coast, a stanch, seaworthy boat, of course without +the speed of the regularly designed yacht, but more than making up in +comfort for those on board what was lost in that way. Waldon pointed +out with obvious pride his own trim yacht swinging gracefully at anchor +a half mile or so away. + +As we approached the houseboat I looked her over carefully. One of the +first things I noticed was that there rose from the roof the primitive +inverted V aerial of a wireless telegraph. I thought immediately of the +unfinished letter and its contents, and shaded my eyes as I took a good +look at the powerful transatlantic station on the spit of sand perhaps +three or four miles distant, with its tall steel masts of the latest +inverted L type and the cluster of little houses below, in which the +operators and the plant were. + +Waldon noticed what I was looking at, and remarked, "It's a wonderful +station--and well worth a visit, if you have the time--one of the most +powerful on the coast, I understand." + +"How did the Lucie come to be equipped with wireless?" asked Craig +quickly. "It's a little unusual for a private boat." + +"Mr. Edwards had it done when she was built," explained Waldon. "His +idea was to use it to keep in touch with the stock market on trips." + +"And it has proved effective?" asked Craig. + +"Oh, yes--that is, it was all right last winter when he went on a short +cruise down in Florida. This summer he hasn't been on the boat long +enough to use it much." + +"Who operates it?" + +"He used to hire a licensed operator, although I believe the engineer, +Pedersen, understands the thing pretty well and could use it if +necessary." + +"Do you think it was Pedersen who used it for Mrs. Edwards?" asked +Kennedy. + +"I really don't know," confessed Waldon. "Pedersen denies absolutely +that he has touched the thing for weeks. I want you to quiz him. I +wasn't able to get him to admit a thing." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE HOUSEBOAT MYSTERY + + +We had by this time swung around to the side of the houseboat. I +realized as we mounted the ladder that the marine gasoline engine had +materially changed the old-time houseboat from a mere scow or barge +with a low flat house on it, moored in a bay or river, and only with +difficulty and expense towed from one place to another. Now the +houseboat was really a fair-sized yacht. + +The Lucie was built high in order to give plenty of accommodation for +the living quarters. The staterooms, dining rooms and saloon were +really rooms, with seven or eight feet of head room, and furnished just +as one would find in a tasteful and expensive house. + +Down in the hull, of course, was the gasoline motor which drove the +propeller, so that when the owner wanted a change of scene all that was +necessary was to get up anchor, start the motor and navigate the +yacht-houseboat to some other harbor. + +Edwards himself met us on the deck. He was a tall man, with a red face, +a man of action, of outdoor life, apparently a hard worker and a hard +player. It was quite evident that he had been waiting for the return of +Waldon anxiously. + +"You find us considerably upset, Professor Kennedy," he greeted Craig, +as his brother-in-law introduced us. + +Edwards turned and led the way toward the saloon. As he entered and +bade us be seated in the costly cushioned wicker chairs I noticed how +sumptuously it was furnished, and particularly its mechanical piano, +its phonograph and the splendid hardwood floor which seemed to invite +one to dance in the cool breeze that floated across from one set of +open windows to the other. And yet in spite of everything, there was +that indefinable air of something lacking, as in a house from which the +woman is gone. + +"You were not here last night, I understand," remarked Kennedy, taking +in the room at a glance. + +"Unfortunately, no," replied Edwards, "Business has kept me with my +nose pretty close to the grindstone this summer. Waldon called me up in +the middle of the night, however, and I started down in my car, which +enabled me to get here before the first train. I haven't been able to +do a thing since I got here except just wait--wait--wait. I confess +that I don't know what else to do. Waldon seemed to think we ought to +have some one down here--and I guess he was right. Anyhow, I'm glad to +see you." + +I watched Edwards keenly. For the first time I realized that I had +neglected to ask Waldon whether he had seen the unfinished letter. The +question was unnecessary. It was evident that he had not. + +"Let me see, Waldon, if I've got this thing straight," Edwards went on, +pacing restlessly up and down the saloon. "Correct me if I haven't. +Last night, as I understand it, there was a sort of little family party +here, you and Miss Verrall and your mother from the Nautilus, and Mrs. +Edwards and Dr. Jermyn." + +"Yes," replied Waldon with, I thought, a touch of defiance at the words +"family party." He paused as if he would have added that the Nautilus +would have been more congenial, anyhow, then added, "We danced a little +bit, all except Lucie. She said she wasn't feeling any too well." + +Edwards had paused by the door. "If you'll excuse me a minute," he +said, "I'll call Jermyn and Mrs. Edwards' maid, Juanita. You ought to +go over the whole thing immediately, Professor Kennedy." + +"Why didn't you say anything about the letter to him?" asked Kennedy +under his breath. + +"What was the use?" returned Waldon. "I didn't know how he'd take it. +Besides, I wanted your advice on the whole thing. Do you want to show +it to him?" + +"Perhaps it's just as well," ruminated Kennedy. "It may be possible to +clear the thing up without involving anybody's name. At any rate, some +one is coming down the passage this way." + +Edwards entered with Dr. Jermyn, a clean-shaven man, youthful in +appearance, yet approaching middle age. I had heard of him before. He +had studied several years abroad and had gained considerable reputation +since his return to America. + +Dr. Jermyn shook hands with us cordially enough, made some passing +comment on the tragedy, and stood evidently waiting for us to disclose +our hands. + +"You have been Mrs. Edwards' physician for some time, I believe?" +queried Kennedy, fencing for an opening. + +"Only since her marriage," replied the doctor briefly. + +"She hadn't been feeling well for several days, had she?" ventured +Kennedy again. + +"No," replied Dr. Jermyn quickly. "I doubt whether I can add much to +what you already know. I suppose Mr. Waldon has told you about her +illness. The fact is, I suppose her maid Juanita will be able to tell +you really more than I can." + +I could not help feeling that Dr. Jermyn showed a great deal of +reluctance in talking. + +"You have been with her several days, though, haven't you?" + +"Four days, I think. She was complaining of feeling nervous and +telegraphed me to come down here. I came prepared to stay over night, +but Mr. Edwards happened to run down that day, too, and he asked me if +I wouldn't remain longer. My practice in the summer is such that I can +easily leave it with my assistant in the city, so I agreed. Really, +that is about all I can say. I don't know yet what was the matter with +Mrs. Edwards, aside from the nervousness which seemed to be of some +time standing." + +He stood facing us, thoughtfully stroking his chin, as a very pretty +and petite maid nervously entered and stood facing us in the doorway. + +"Come in, Juanita," encouraged Edwards. "I want you to tell these +gentlemen just what you told me about discovering that Madame had +gone--and anything else that you may recall now." + +"It was Juanita who discovered that Madame was gone, you know," put in +Waldon. + +"How did you discover it?" prompted Craig. + +"It was very hot," replied the maid, "and often on hot nights I would +come in and fan Madame since she was so wakeful. Last night I went to +the door and knocked. There was no reply. I called to her, 'Madame, +madame.' Still there was no answer. The worst I supposed was that she +had fainted. I continued to call." + +"The door was locked?" inquired Kennedy. + +"Yes, sir. My call aroused the others on the boat. Dr. Jermyn came and +he broke open the door with his shoulder. But the room was empty. +Madame was gone." + +"How about the windows?" asked Kennedy. + +"Open. They were always open these nights. Sometimes Madame would sit +by the window when there was not much breeze." + +"I should like to see the room," remarked Craig, with an inquiring +glance at Edwards. + +"Certainly," he answered, leading the way down a corridor. + +Mrs. Edwards' room was on the starboard side, with wide windows instead +of portholes. It was furnished magnificently and there was little about +it that suggested the nautical, except the view from the window. + +"The bed had not been slept in," Edwards remarked as we looked about +curiously. + +Kennedy walked over quickly to the wide series of windows before which +was a leather-cushioned window seat almost level with the window, +several feet above the level of the water. It was by this window, +evidently, that Juanita meant that Mrs. Edwards often sat. It was a +delightful position, but I could readily see that it would be +comparatively easy for anyone accidentally or purposely to fall. + +"I think myself," Waldon remarked to Kennedy, "that it must have been +from the open window that she made her way to the outside. It seems +that all agree that the door was locked, while the window was wide +open." + +"There had been no sound--no cry to alarm you?" shot out Kennedy +suddenly to Juanita. + +"No, sir, nothing. I could not sleep myself, and I thought of Madame." + +"You heard nothing?" he asked of Dr. Jermyn. + +"Nothing until I heard the maid call," he replied briefly. + +Mentally I ran over again Kennedy's first list of possibilities--taken +off by another boat, accident, drugs, suicide, murder. + +Was there, I asked myself, sufficient reason for suicide? The letter +seemed to me to show too proud a spirit for that. In fact the last +sentence seemed to show that she was contemplating the surest method of +revenge, rather than surrender. As for accident, why should a person +fall overboard from a large houseboat into a perfectly calm harbor? +Then, too, there had been no outcry. Somehow, I could not seem to fit +any of the theories in with the facts. Evidently it was like many +another case, one in which we, as yet, had insufficient data for a +conclusion. + +Suddenly I recalled the theory that Waldon himself had advanced +regarding the wireless, either from the boat itself or from the +wireless station. For the moment, at least, it seemed plausible that +she might have been seated at the window, that she might have been +affected by escaped wireless, or by electrolysis. I knew that some +physicians had described a disease which they attributed to wireless, a +sort of anemia with a marked diminution in the number of red corpuscles +in the blood, due partly to the over etherization of the air by reason +of the alternating currents used to generate the waves. + +"I should like now to inspect the little wireless plant you have here +on the Lucie," remarked Kennedy. "I noticed the mast as we were +approaching a few minutes ago." + +I had turned at the sound of his voice in time to catch Edwards and Dr. +Jermyn eyeing each other furtively. Did they know about the letter, +after all, I wondered? Was each in doubt about just how much the other +knew? + +There was no time to pursue these speculations. "Certainly," agreed Mr. +Edwards promptly, leading the way. + +Kennedy seemed keenly interested in inspecting the little wireless +plant, which was of a curious type and not exactly like any that I had +seen before. + +"Wireless apparatus," he remarked, as he looked it over, "is divided +into three parts, the source of power whether battery or dynamo, the +making and sending of wireless waves, including the key, spark, +condenser and tuning coil, and the receiving apparatus, head +telephones, antennae, ground and detector." + +Pedersen, the engineer, came in while we were looking the plant over, +but seemed uncommunicative to all Kennedy's efforts to engage him in +conversation. + +"I see," remarked Kennedy, "that it is a very compact system with +facilities for a quick change from one wave length to another." + +"Yes," grunted Pedersen, as averse to talking, evidently, as others on +the Lucie. + +"Spark gap, quenched type," I heard Kennedy mutter almost to himself, +with a view to showing Pedersen that he knew something about it. "Break +system relay--operator can overhear any interference while +transmitting--transformation by a single throw of a six-point switch +which tunes the oscillating and open circuits to resonance. Very +clever--very efficient. By the way, Pedersen, are you the only person +aboard who can operate this?" + +"How should I know?" he answered almost surlily. + +"You ought to know, if anybody," answered Kennedy unruffled. "I know +that it has been operated within the past few days." + +Pedersen shrugged his shoulders. "You might ask the others aboard," was +all he said. "Mr. Edwards pays me to operate it only for himself, when +he has no other operator." + +Kennedy did not pursue the subject, evidently from fear of saying too +much just at present. + +"I wonder if there is anyone else who could have operated it," said +Waldon, as we mounted again to the deck. + +"I don't know," replied Kennedy, pausing on the way up. "You haven't a +wireless on the Nautilus, have you?" + +Waldon shook his head. "Never had any particular use for it myself," he +answered. + +"You say that Miss Verrall and her mother have gone back to the city?" +pursued Kennedy, taking care that as before the others were out of +earshot. + +"Yes." + +"I'd like to stay with you tonight, then," decided Kennedy. "Might we +go over with you now? There doesn't seem to be anything more I can do +here, unless we get some news about Mrs. Edwards." + +Waldon seemed only too glad to agree, and no one on the Lucie insisted +on our staying. + +We arrived at the Nautilus a few minutes later, and while we were +lunching Kennedy dispatched the tender to the Marconi station with a +note. + +It was early in the afternoon when the tender returned with several +packages and coils of wire. Kennedy immediately set to work on the +Nautilus stretching out some of the wire. + +"What is it you are planning?" asked Waldon, to whom every action of +Kennedy seemed to be a mystery of the highest interest. + +"Improvising my own wireless," he replied, not averse to talking to the +young man to whom he seemed to have taken a fancy. "For short +distances, you know, it isn't necessary to construct an aerial pole or +even to use outside wires to receive messages. All that is needed is to +use just a few wires stretched inside a room. The rest is just the +apparatus." + +I was quite as much interested as Waldon. "In wireless," he went on, +"the signals are not sent in one direction, but in all, so that a +person within range of the ethereal disturbance can get them if only he +has the necessary receiving apparatus. This apparatus need not be so +elaborate and expensive as used to be thought needful if a sensitive +detector is employed, and I have sent over to the station for a new +piece of apparatus which I knew they had in almost any Marconi station. +Why, I've got wireless signals using only twelve feet of number +eighteen copper wire stretched across a room and grounded with a water +pipe. You might even use a wire mattress on an iron bedstead." + +"Can't they find out by--er, interference?" I asked, repeating the term +I had so often heard. + +Kennedy laughed. "No, not for radio apparatus which merely receives +radiograms and is not equipped for sending. I am setting up only one +side of a wireless outfit here. All I want to do is to hear what is +being said. I don't care about saying anything." + +He unwrapped another package which had been loaned to him by the radio +station and we watched him curiously as he tested it and set it up. +Some parts of it I recognized such as the very sensitive microphone, +and another part I could have sworn was a phonograph cylinder, though +Craig was so busy testing his apparatus that now we could not ask +questions. + +It was late in the afternoon when he finished, and we had just time to +run up to the dock at Seaville and stop off at the Lucie to see if +anything had happened in the intervening hours before dinner. There was +nothing, except that I found time to file a message to the Star and +meet several fellow newspaper men who had been sent down by other +papers on the chance of picking up a good story. + +We had the Nautilus to ourselves, and as she was a very comfortable +little craft, we really had a very congenial time, a plunge over her +side, a good dinner, and then a long talk out on deck under the stars, +in which we went over every phase of the case. As we discussed it, +Waldon followed keenly, and it was quite evident from his remarks that +he had come to the conclusion that Dr. Jermyn at least knew more than +he had told about the case. + +Still, the day wore away with no solution yet of the mystery. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE RADIO DETECTIVE + + +It was early the following morning when a launch drew up beside the +Nautilus. In it were Edwards and Dr. Jermyn, wildly excited. + +"What's the matter?" called out Waldon. + +"They--they have found the body," Edwards blurted out. + +Waldon paled and clutched the rail. He had thought the world of his +sister, and not until the last moment had he given up hope that perhaps +she might be found to have disappeared in some other way than had +become increasingly evident. + +"Where?" cried Kennedy. "Who?" + +"Over on Ten Mile Beach," answered Edwards. "Some fishermen who had +been out on a cruise and hadn't heard the story. They took the body to +town, and there it was recognized. They sent word out to us +immediately." + +Waldon had already spun the engine of his tender, which was about the +fastest thing afloat about Seaville, had taken Edwards over, and we +were off in a cloud of spray, the nose of the boat many inches above +the surface of the water. + +In the little undertaking establishment at Seaville lay the body of the +beautiful young matron about whom so much anxiety had been felt. I +could not help thinking what an end was this for the incomparable +beauty. At the very height of her brief career the poor little woman's +life had been suddenly snuffed out. But by what? The body had been +found, but the mystery had been far from solved. + +As Kennedy bent over the body, I heard him murmur to himself, "She had +everything--everything except happiness." + +"Was it drowning that caused her death?" asked Kennedy of the local +doctor, who also happened to be coroner and had already arrived on the +scene. + +The doctor shook his head. "I don't know," he said doubtfully. "There +was congestion of the lungs--but I--I can't say but what she might have +been dead before she fell or was thrown into the water." + +Dr. Jermyn stood on one side, now and then putting in a word, but for +the most part silent unless spoken to. Kennedy, however, was making a +most minute examination. + +As he turned the beautiful head, almost reverently, he saw something +that evidently attracted his attention. I was standing next to him and, +between us, I think we cut off the view of the others. There on the +back of the neck, carefully, had been smeared something transparent, +almost skin-like, which had easily escaped the attention of the rest. + +Kennedy tried to pick it off, but only succeeded in pulling off a very +minute piece to which the flesh seemed to adhere. + +"That's queer," he whispered to me. "Water, naturally, has no effect on +it, else it would have been washed off long before. Walter," he added, +"just slip across the street quietly to the drug store and get me a +piece of gauze soaked with acetone." + +As quickly and unostentatiously as I could I did so and handed him the +wet cloth, contriving at the same time to add Waldon to our barrier, +for I could see that Kennedy was anxious to be observed as little as +possible. + +"What is it?" I whispered, as he rubbed the transparent skin-like stuff +off, and dropped the gauze into his pocket. + +"A sort of skin varnish," he remarked under his breath, "waterproof and +so adhesive that it resists pulling off even with a knife without +taking the cuticle with it." + +Beneath, as the skin varnish slowly dissolved under his gentle rubbing, +he had disclosed several very small reddish spots, like little cuts +that had been made by means of a very sharp instrument. As he did so, +he gave them a hasty glance, turned the now stony beautiful head +straight again, stood up, and resumed his talk with the coroner, who +was evidently getting more and more bewildered by the case. + +Edwards, who had completed the arrangements with the undertaker for the +care of the body as soon as the coroner released it, seemed completely +unnerved. + +"Jermyn," he said to the doctor, as he turned away and hid his eyes, "I +can't stand this. The undertaker wants some stuff from the--er--boat," +his voice broke over the name which had been hers. "Will you get it for +me? I'm going up to a hotel here, and I'll wait for you there. But I +can't go out to the boat--yet." + +"I think Mr. Waldon will be glad to take you out in his tender," +suggested Kennedy. "Besides, I feel that I'd like a little fresh air as +a bracer, too, after such a shock." + +"What were those little cuts?" I asked as Waldon and Dr. Jermyn +preceded us through the crowd outside to the pier. + +"Some one," he answered in a low tone, "has severed the pneumogastric +nerves." + +"The pneumogastric nerves?" I repeated. + +"Yes, the vagus or wandering nerve, the so-called tenth cranial nerve. +Unlike the other cranial nerves, which are concerned with the special +senses or distributed to the skin and muscles of the head and neck, the +vagus, as its name implies, strays downward into the chest and abdomen +supplying branches to the throat, lungs, heart and stomach and forms an +important connecting link between the brain and the sympathetic nervous +system." + +We had reached the pier, and a nod from Kennedy discouraged further +conversation on the subject. + +A few minutes later we had reached the Lucie and gone up over her side. +Kennedy waited until Jermyn had disappeared into the room of Mrs. +Edwards to get what the undertaker had desired. A moment and he had +passed quietly into Dr. Jermyn's own room, followed by me. Several +quick glances about told him what not to waste time over, and at last +his eye fell on a little portable case of medicines and surgical +instruments. He opened it quickly and took out a bottle of golden +yellow liquid. + +Kennedy smelled it, then quickly painted some on the back of his hand. +It dried quickly, like an artificial skin. He had found a bottle of +skin varnish in Dr. Jermyn's own medicine chest! + +We hurried back to the deck, and a few minutes later the doctor +appeared with a large package. + +"Did you ever hear of coating the skin by a substance which is +impervious to water, smooth and elastic?" asked Kennedy quietly as +Waldon's tender sped along back to Seaville. + +"Why--er, yes," he said frankly, raising his eyes and looking at Craig +in surprise. "There have been a dozen or more such substances. The best +is one which I use, made of pyroxylin, the soluble cotton of commerce, +dissolved in amyl acetate and acetone with some other substances that +make it perfectly sterile. Why do you ask?" + +"Because some one has used a little bit of it to cover a few slight +cuts on the back of the neck of Mrs. Edwards." + +"Indeed?" he said simply, in a tone of mild surprise. + +"Yes," pursued Kennedy. "They seem to me to be subcutaneous incisions +of the neck with a very fine scalpel dividing the two great +pneumogastric nerves. Of course you know what that would mean--the +victim would pass away naturally by slow and easy stages in three or +four days, and all that would appear might be congestion of the lungs. +They are delicate little punctures and elusive nerves to locate, but +after all it might be done as painlessly, as simply and as safely as a +barber might remove some dead hairs. A country coroner might easily +pass over such evidence at an autopsy--especially if it was concealed +by skin varnish." + +I was surprised at the frankness with which Kennedy spoke, but +absolutely amazed at the coolness of Jermyn. At first he said +absolutely nothing. He seemed to be as set in his reticence as he had +been when we first met. + +I watched him narrowly. Waldon, who was driving the boat, had not heard +what was said, but I had, and I could not conceive how anyone could +take it so calmly. + +Finally Jermyn turned to Kennedy and looked him squarely in the eye. +"Kennedy," he said slowly, "this is extraordinary--most extraordinary," +then, pausing, added, "if true." + +"There can be no doubt of the truth," replied Kennedy, eyeing Dr. +Jermyn just as squarely. + +"What do you propose to do about it?" asked the doctor. + +"Investigate," replied Kennedy simply. "While Waldon takes these things +up to the undertaker's, we may as well wait here in the boat. I want +him to stop on the way back for Mr. Edwards. Then we shall go out to +the Lucie. He must go, whether he likes it or not." + +It was indeed a most peculiar situation as Kennedy and I sat in the +tender with Dr. Jermyn waiting for Waldon to return with Edwards. Not a +word was spoken. + +The tenseness of the situation was not relieved by the return of Waldon +with Edwards. Waldon seemed to realize without knowing just what it +was, that something was about to happen. He drove his boat back to the +Lucie again in record time. This was Kennedy's turn to be reticent. +Whatever it was he was revolving in his mind, he answered in scarcely +more than monosyllables whatever questions were put to him. + +"You are not coming aboard?" inquired Edwards in surprise as he and +Jermyn mounted the steps of the houseboat ladder, and Kennedy remained +seated in the tender. + +"Not yet," replied Craig coolly. + +"But I thought you had something to show me. Waldon told me you had." + +"I think I shall have in a short time," returned Kennedy. "We shall be +back immediately. I'm just going to ask Waldon to run over to the +Nautilus for a few minutes. We'll tow back your launch, too, in case +you need it." + +Waldon had cast off obediently. + +"There's one thing sure," I remarked. "Jermyn can't get away from the +Lucie until we return--unless he swims." + +Kennedy did not seem to pay much attention to the remark, for his only +reply was: "I'm taking a chance by this maneuvering, but I think it +will work out that I am correct. By the way, Waldon, you needn't put on +so much speed. I'm in no great hurry to get back. Half an hour will be +time enough." + +"Jermyn? What did you mean by Jermyn?" asked Waldon, as we climbed to +the deck of the Nautilus. + +He had evidently learned, as I had, that it was little use to try to +quiz Kennedy until he was ready to be questioned and had decided to try +it on me. + +I had nothing to conceal and I told him quite fully all that I knew. +Actually, I believe if Jermyn had been there, it would have taken both +Kennedy and myself to prevent violence. As it was I had a veritable +madman to deal with while Kennedy gathered up leisurely the wireless +outfit he had installed on the deck of Waldon's yacht. It was only by +telling him that I would certainly demand that Kennedy leave him behind +if he did not control his feelings that I could calm him before Craig +had finished his work on the yacht. + +Waldon relieved himself by driving the tender back at top speed to the +Lucie, and now it seemed that Kennedy had no objection to traveling as +fast as the many-cylindered engine was capable of going. + +As we entered the saloon of the houseboat, I kept close watch over +Waldon. + +Kennedy began by slipping a record on the phonograph in the corner of +the saloon, then facing us and addressing Edwards particularly. + +"You may be interested to know, Mr. Edwards," he said, "that your +wireless outfit here has been put to a use for which you never intended +it." + +No one said anything, but I am sure that some one in the room then for +the first time began to suspect what was coming. + +"As you know, by the use of an aerial pole, messages may be easily +received from any number of stations," continued Craig. "Laws, rules +and regulations may be adopted to shut out interlopers and plug +busybody ears, but the greater part of whatever is transmitted by the +Hertzian waves can be snatched down by other wireless apparatus. + +"Down below, in that little room of yours," went on Craig, "might sit +an operator with his ear-phone clamped to his head, drinking in the +news conveyed surely and swiftly to him through the wireless +signals--plucking from the sky secrets of finance and," he added, +leaning forward, "love." + +In his usual dramatic manner Kennedy had swung his little audience +completely with him. + +"In other words," he resumed, "it might be used for eavesdropping by a +wireless wiretapper. Now," he concluded, "I thought that if there was +any radio detective work being done, I might as well do some, too." + +He toyed for a moment with the phonograph record. "I have used," he +explained, "Marconi's radiotelephone, because in connection with his +receivers Marconi uses phonographic recorders and on them has captured +wireless telegraph signals over hundreds of miles. + +"He has found that it is possible to receive wireless signals, although +ordinary records are not loud enough, by using a small microphone on +the repeating diaphragm and connected with a loud-speaking telephone. +The chief difficulty was to get a microphone that would carry a +sufficient current without burning up. There were other difficulties, +but they have been surmounted and now wireless telegraph messages may +be automatically recorded and made audible." + +Kennedy started the phonograph, running it along, stopping it, taking +up the record at a new point. + +"Listen," he exclaimed at length, "there's something interesting, the +WXY call--Seaville station--from some one on the Lucie only a few +minutes ago, sending a message to be relayed by Seaville to the station +at Beach Park. It seems impossible, but buzzing and ticking forth is +this message from some one off this very houseboat. It reads: "Miss +Valerie Fox, Beach Park. I am suspected of the murder of Mrs. Edwards. +I appeal to you to help me. You must allow me to tell the truth about +the messages I intercepted for Mrs. Edwards which passed between +yourself on the ocean and Mr. Edwards in New York via Seaville. You +rejected me and would not let me save you. Now you must save me." + +Kennedy paused, then added, "The message is signed by Dr. Jermyn!" + +At once I saw it all. Jermyn had been the unsuccessful suitor for Miss +Fox's affections. But before I could piece out the rest of the tragic +story, Kennedy had started the phonograph record at an earlier point +which he had skipped for the present. + +"Here's another record--a brief one--also to Valerie Fox from the +houseboat: 'Refuse all interviews. Deny everything. Will see you as +soon as present excitement dies down.'" + +Before Kennedy could finish, Waldon had leaped forward, unable longer +to control his feelings. If Kennedy had not seized his arm, I verily +believe he would have cast Dr. Jermyn into the bay into which his +sister had fallen two nights before in her terribly weakened condition. + +"Waldon," cried Kennedy, "for God's sake, man--wait! Don't you +understand? The second message is signed Tracy Edwards." + +It came as quite as much a shock of surprise to me as to Waldon. + +"Don't you understand?" he repeated. "Your sister first learned from +Dr. Jermyn what was going on. She moved the Lucie down here near +Seaville in order to be near the wireless station when the ship bearing +her rival, Valerie Fox, got in touch with land. With the help of Dr. +Jermyn she intercepted the wireless messages from the Kronprinz to the +shore--between her husband and Valerie Fox." + +Kennedy was hurrying on now to his irresistible conclusion. "She found +that he was infatuated with the famous stage beauty, that he was +planning to marry another, her rival. She accused him of it, threatened +to defeat his plans. He knew she knew his unfaithfulness. Instead of +being your sister's murderer, Dr. Jermyn was helping her get the +evidence that would save both her and perhaps win Miss Fox back to +himself." + +Kennedy had turned sharply on Edwards. + +"But," he added, with a glance that crushed any lingering hope that the +truth had been concealed, "the same night that Dr. Jermyn arrived here, +you visited your wife. As she slept you severed the nerves that meant +life or death to her. Then you covered the cuts with the preparation +which you knew Dr. Jermyn used. You asked him to stay, while you went +away, thinking that when death came you would have a perfect +alibi--perhaps a scapegoat. Edwards, the radio detective convicts you!" + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE CURIO SHOP + + +Edwards crumpled up as Kennedy and I faced him. There was no escape. In +fact our greatest difficulty was to protect him from Waldon. + +Kennedy's work in the case was over when we had got Edwards ashore and +in the hands of the authorities. But mine had just begun and it was +late when I got my story on the wire for the Star. + +I felt pretty tired and determined to make up for it by sleeping the +next day. It was no use, however. + +"Why, what's the matter, Mrs. Northrop?" I heard Kennedy ask as he +opened our door the next morning, just as I had finished dressing. + +He had admitted a young woman, who greeted us with nervous, +wide-staring eyes. + +"It's--it's about Archer," she cried, sinking into the nearest chair +and staring from one to the other of us. + +She was the wife of Professor Archer Northrop, director of the +archeological department at the university. Both Craig and I had known +her ever since her marriage to Northrop, for she was one of the most +attractive ladies in the younger set of the faculty, to which Craig +naturally belonged. Archer had been of the class below us in the +university. We had hazed him, and out of the mild hazing there had, +strangely enough, grown a strong friendship. + +I recollected quickly that Northrop, according to last reports, had +been down in the south of Mexico on an archeological expedition. But +before I could frame, even in my mind, the natural question in a form +that would not alarm his wife further, Kennedy had it on his lips. + +"No bad news from Mitla, I hope?" he asked gently, recalling one of the +main working stations chosen by the expedition and the reported +unsettled condition of the country about it. She looked up quickly. + +"Didn't you know--he--came back from Vera Cruz yesterday?" she asked +slowly, then added, speaking in a broken tone, "and--he +seems--suddenly--to have disappeared. Oh, such a terrible night of +worry! No word--and I called up the museum, but Doctor Bernardo, the +curator, had gone, and no one answered. And this morning--I couldn't +stand it any longer--so I came to you." + +"You have no idea, I suppose, of anything that was weighing on his +mind?" suggested Kennedy. + +"No," she answered promptly. + +In default of any further information, Kennedy did not pursue this line +of questioning. I could not determine from his face or manner whether +he thought the matter might involve another than Mrs. Northrop, or, +perhaps, something connected with the unsettled condition of the +country from which her husband had just arrived. + +"Have you any of the letters that Archer wrote home?" asked Craig, at +length. + +"Yes," she replied eagerly, taking a little packet from her handbag. "I +thought you might ask that. I brought them." + +"You are an ideal client," commented Craig encouragingly, taking the +letters. "Now, Mrs. Northrop, be brave. Trust me to run this thing +down, and if you hear anything let me know immediately." + +She left us a moment later, visibly relieved. + +Scarcely had she gone when Craig, stuffing the letters into his pocket +unread, seized his hat, and a moment later was striding along toward +the museum with his habitual rapid, abstracted step which told me that +he sensed a mystery. + +In the museum we met Doctor Bernardo, a man slightly older than +Northrop, with whom he had been very intimate. He had just arrived and +was already deeply immersed in the study of some new and beautiful +colored plates from the National Museum of Mexico City. + +"Do you remember seeing Northrop here yesterday afternoon?" greeted +Craig, without explaining what had happened. + +"Yes," he answered promptly. "I was here with him until very late. At +least, he was in his own room, working hard, when I left." + +"Did you see him go?" + +"Why--er--no," replied Bernardo, as if that were a new idea. "I left +him here--at least, I didn't see him go out." + +Kennedy tried the door of Northrop's room, which was at the far end, in +a corner, and communicated with the hall only through the main floor of +the museum. It was locked. A pass-key from the janitor quickly opened +it. + +Such a sight as greeted us, I shall never forget. There, in his big +desk-chair, sat Northrop, absolutely rigid, the most horribly contorted +look on his features that I have ever seen--half of pain, half of fear, +as if of something nameless. + +Kennedy bent over. His hands were cold. + +Northrop had been dead at least twelve hours, perhaps longer. All night +the deserted museum had guarded its terrible secret. + +As Craig peered into his face, he saw, in the fleshy part of the neck, +just below the left ear, a round red mark, with just a drop or two of +now black coagulated blood in the center. All around we could see a +vast amount of miscellaneous stuff, partly unpacked, partly just +opened, and waiting to be taken out of the wrappings by the now +motionless hands. + +"I suppose you are more or less familiar with what Northrop brought +back?" asked Kennedy of Bernardo, running his eye over the material in +the room. + +"Yes, reasonably," answered Bernardo. "Before the cases arrived from +the wharf, he told me in detail what he had managed to bring up with +him." + +"I wish, then, that you would look it over and see if there is anything +missing," requested Craig, already himself busy in going over the room +for other evidence. + +Doctor Bernardo hastily began taking a mental inventory of the stuff. +While they worked, I tried vainly to frame some theory which would +explain the startling facts we had so suddenly discovered. + +Mitla, I knew, was south of the city of Oaxaca, and there, in its +ruined palaces, was the crowning achievement of the old Zapotec kings. +No ruins in America were more elaborately ornamented or richer in lore +for the archeologist. + +Northrop had brought up porphyry blocks with quaint grecques and much +hieroglyphic painting. Already unpacked were half a dozen copper axes, +some of the first of that particular style that had ever been brought +to the United States. Besides the sculptured stones and the mosaics +were jugs, cups, vases, little gods, sacrificial stones--enough, +almost, to equip a new alcove in the museum. + +Before Northrop was an idol, a hideous thing on which frogs and snakes +squatted and coiled. It was a fitting piece to accompany the gruesome +occupant of the little room in his long, last vigil. In fact, it almost +sent a shudder over me, and if I had been inclined to the +superstitious, I should certainly have concluded that this was +retribution for having disturbed the lares and penates of a dead race. + +Doctor Bernardo was going over the material a second time. By the look +on his face, even I could guess that something was missing. + +"What is it?" asked Craig, following the curator closely. + +"Why," he answered slowly, "there was an inscription--we were looking +at it earlier in the day--on a small block of porphyry. I don't see it." + +He paused and went back to his search before we could ask him further +what he thought the inscription was about. + +I thought nothing myself at the time of his reticence, for Kennedy had +gone over to a window back of Northrop and to the left. It was fully +twenty feet from the downward slope of the campus there, and, as he +craned his neck out, he noted that the copper leader of the rain pipe +ran past it a few feet away. + +I, too, looked out. A thick group of trees hid the window from the +avenue beyond the campus wall, and below us, at a corner of the +building, was a clump of rhododendrons. As Craig bent over the sill, he +whipped out a pocket lens. + +A moment later he silently handed the glass to me. As nearly as I could +make out, there were five marks on the dust of the sill. + +"Finger-prints!" I exclaimed. "Some one has been clinging to the edge +of the ledge." + +"In that case," Craig observed quietly, "there would have been only +four prints." + +I looked again, puzzled. The prints were flat and well separated. + +"No," he added, "not finger-prints--toe-prints." + +"Toe-prints?" I echoed. + +Before he could reply, Craig had dashed out of the room, around, and +under the window. There, he was carefully going over the soft earth +around the bushes below. + +"What are you looking for?" I asked, joining him. + +"Some one--perhaps two--has been here," he remarked, almost under his +breath. "One, at least, has removed his shoes. See those shoe-prints up +to this point? The print of a boot-heel in soft earth shows the +position and contour of every nail head. Bertillon has made a +collection of such nails, certain types, sizes, and shapes used in +certain boots, showing often what country the shoes came from. Even the +number and pattern are significant. Some factories use a fixed number +of nails and arrange them in a particular manner. I have made my own +collection of such prints in this country. These were American shoes. +Perhaps the clue will not lead us anywhere, though, for I doubt whether +it was an American foot." + +Kennedy continued to study the marks. + +"He removed his shoes--either to help in climbing or to prevent +noise--ah--here's the foot! Strange--see how small it is--and broad, +how prehensile the toes--almost like fingers. Surely that foot could +never have been encased in American shoes all its life. I shall make +plaster casts of these, to preserve later." + +He was still scouting about on hands and knees in the dampness of the +rhododendrons. Suddenly he reached his long arm in among the shrubs and +picked up a little reed stick. On the end of it was a small cylinder of +buff brown. + +He looked at it curiously, dug his nail into the soft mass, then rubbed +his nail over the tip of his tongue gingerly. + +With a wry face, as if the taste were extremely acrid, he moistened his +handkerchief and wiped off his tongue vigorously. + +"Even that minute particle that was on my nail makes my tongue tingle +and feel numb," he remarked, still rubbing. "Let us go back again. I +want to see Bernardo." + +"Had he any visitors during the day?" queried Kennedy, as he reentered +the ghastly little room, while the curator stood outside, completely +unnerved by the tragedy which had been so close to him without his +apparently knowing it. Kennedy was squeezing out from the little wound +on Northrop's neck a few drops of liquid on a sterilized piece of glass. + +"No; no one," Bernardo answered, after a moment. + +"Did you see anyone in the museum who looked suspicious?" asked +Kennedy, watching Bernardo's face keenly. + +"No," he hesitated. "There were several people wandering about among +the exhibits, of course. One, I recall, late in the afternoon, was a +little dark-skinned woman, rather good-looking." + +"A Mexican?" + +"Yes, I should say so. Not of Spanish descent, though. She was rather +of the Indian type. She seemed to be much interested in the various +exhibits, asked me several questions, very intelligently, too. Really, +I thought she was trying to--er--flirt with me." + +He shot a glance at Craig, half of confession, half of embarrassment. + +"And--oh, yes--there was another--a man, a little man, as I recall, +with shaggy hair. He looked like a Russian to me. I remember, because +he came to the door, peered around hastily, and went away. I thought he +might have got into the wrong part of the building and went to direct +him right--but before I could get out into the hall, he was gone. I +remember, too, that, as I turned, the woman had followed me and soon +was asking other questions--which, I will admit--I was glad to answer." + +"Was Northrop in his room while these people were here?" + +"Yes; he had locked the door so that none of the students or visitors +could disturb him." + +"Evidently the woman was diverting your attention while the man entered +Northrop's room by the window," ruminated Craig, as we stood for a +moment in the outside doorway. + +He had already telephoned to our old friend Doctor Leslie, the coroner, +to take charge of the case, and now was ready to leave. The news had +spread, and the janitor of the building was waiting to lock the campus +door to keep back the crowd of students and others. + +Our next duty was the painful one of breaking the news to Mrs. +Northrop. I shall pass it over. Perhaps no one could have done it more +gently than Kennedy. She did not cry. She was simply dazed. Fortunately +her mother was with her, had been, in fact, ever since Northrop had +gone on the expedition. + +"Why should anyone want to steal tablets of old Mixtec inscriptions?" I +asked thoughtfully, as we walked sadly over the campus in the direction +of the chemistry building. "Have they a sufficient value, even on +appreciative Fifth Avenue, to warrant murder?" + +"Well," he remarked, "it does seem incomprehensible. Yet people do just +such things. The psychologists tell us that there is a veritable mania +for possessing such curios. However, it is possible that there may be +some deeper significance in this case," he added, his face puckered in +thought. + +Who was the mysterious Mexican woman, who the shaggy Russian? I asked +myself. Clearly, at least, if she existed at all, she was one of the +millions not of Spanish but of Indian descent in the country south of +us. As I reasoned it out, it seemed to me as if she must have been an +accomplice. She could not have got into Northrop's room either before +or after Doctor Bernardo left. Then, too, the toe-and shoe-prints were +not hers. But, I figured, she certainly had a part in the plot. + +While I was engaged in the vain effort to unravel the tragic affair by +pure reason, Kennedy was at work with practical science. + +He began by examining the little dark cylinder on the end of the reed. +On a piece of the stuff, broken off, he poured a dark liquid from a +brown-glass bottle. Then he placed it under a microscope. + +"Microscopically," he said slowly, "it consists almost wholly of +minute, clear granules which give a blue reaction with iodine. They are +starch. Mixed with them are some larger starch granules, a few plant +cells, fibrous matter, and other foreign particles. And then, there is +the substance that gives that acrid, numbing taste." He appeared to be +vacantly studying the floor. + +"What do you think it is?" I asked, unable to restrain myself. + +"Aconite," he answered slowly, "of which the active principle is the +deadly poisonous alkaloid, aconitin." + +He walked over and pulled down a well-thumbed standard work on +toxicology, turned the pages, then began to read aloud: + +Pure aconitin is probably the most actively poisonous substance with +which we are acquainted and, if administered hypodermically, the +alkaloid is even more powerfully poisonous than when taken by the mouth. + +As in the case of most of the poisonous alkaloids, aconitin does not +produce any decidedly characteristic post-mortem appearances. There is +no way to distinguish it from other alkaloids, in fact, no reliable +chemical test. The physiological effects before death are all that can +be relied on. + +Owing to its exceeding toxic nature, the smallness of the dose required +to produce death, and the lack of tests for recognition, aconitin +possesses rather more interest in legal medicine than most other +poisons. + +It is one of the few substances which, in the present state of +toxicology, might be criminally administered and leave no positive +evidence of the crime. If a small but fatal dose of the poison were to +be given, especially if it were administered hypodermically, the +chances of its detection in the body after death would be practically +none. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE "PILLAR OF DEATH" + + +I was looking at him fixedly as the diabolical nature of what must have +happened sank into my mind. Here was a poison that defied detection. I +could see by the look on Craig's face that that problem, alone, was +enough to absorb his attention. He seemed fully to realize that we had +to deal with a criminal so clever that he might never be brought to +justice. + +An idea flashed over me. + +"How about the letters?" I suggested. + +"Good, Walter!" he exclaimed. + +He untied the package which Mrs. Northrop had given him and glanced +quickly over one after another of the letters. + +"Ah!" he exclaimed, fairly devouring one dated at Mitla. "Listen--it +tells about Northrop's work and goes on: + +"'I have been much interested in a cavern, or subterraneo, here, in the +shape of a cross, each arm of which extends for some twelve feet +underground. In the center it is guarded by a block of stone popularly +called "the Pillar of Death." There is a superstition that whoever +embraces it will die before the sun goes down. + +"'From the subterraneo is said to lead a long, underground passage +across the court to another subterranean chamber which is full of +Mixtec treasure. Treasure hunters have dug all around it, and it is +said that two old Indians, only, know of the immense amount of buried +gold and silver, but that they will not reveal it.'" + +I started up. Here was the missing link which I had been waiting for. + +"There, at least, is the motive," I blurted out. "That is why Bernardo +was so reticent. Northrop, in his innocence of heart, had showed him +that inscription." + +Kennedy said nothing as he finally tied up the little packet of letters +and locked it in his safe. He was not given to hasty generalizations; +neither was he one who clung doggedly to a preconceived theory. + +It was still early in the afternoon. Craig and I decided to drop into +the museum again in order to see Doctor Bernardo. He was not there and +we sat down to wait. + +Just then the letter box in the door clicked. It was the postman on his +rounds. Kennedy walked over and picked up the letter. + +The postmark bore the words, "Mexico City," and a date somewhat later +than that on which Northrop had left Vera Cruz. In the lower corner, +underscored, were the words, "Personal--Urgent." + +"I'd like to know what is in that," remarked Craig, turning it over and +over. + +He appeared to be considering something, for he rose suddenly and +shoved the letter into his pocket. + +I followed, and a few moments later, across the campus in his +laboratory, he was working quickly over an X-ray apparatus. He had +placed the letter in it. + +"These are what are known as 'low' tubes," he explained. "They give out +'soft rays.'" He continued to work for a few moments, then handed me +the letter. + +"Now, Walter," he said, "if you will just hurry back to the museum and +replace that letter, I think I will have something that will astonish +you--though whether it will have any bearing on the case, remains to be +seen." + +"What is it?" I asked, a few minutes later, when I had rejoined him, +after returning the letter. He was poring intently over what looked +like a negative. + +"The possibility of reading the contents of documents inclosed in a +sealed envelope," he replied, still studying the shadowgraph closely, +"has already been established by the well-known English scientist, +Doctor Hall Edwards. He has been experimenting with the method of using +X-rays recently discovered by a German scientist, by which radiographs +of very thin substances, such as a sheet of paper, a leaf, an insect's +body, may be obtained. These thin substances through which the rays +used formerly to pass without leaving an impression, can now be +radiographed." + +I looked carefully as he traced out something on the negative. On it +was easily possible, following his guidance, to read the words +inscribed on the sheet of paper inside. So admirably defined were all +the details that even the gum on the envelope and the edges of the +sheet of paper inside the envelope could be distinguished. + +"Any letter written with ink having a mineral basis can be +radiographed," added Craig. "Even when the sheet is folded in the usual +way, it is possible by taking a radiograph stereoscopically, to +distinguish the writing, every detail standing out in relief. Besides, +it can be greatly magnified, which aids in deciphering it if it is +indistinct or jumbled up. Some of it looks like mirror writing. Ah," he +added, "here's something interesting!" + +Together we managed to trace out the contents of several paragraphs, of +which the significant parts were as follows: + + I am expecting that my friend Senora Herreria will be in New York +by the time you receive this, and should she call on you, I know you +will accord her every courtesy. She has been in Mexico City for a few +days, having just returned from Mitla, where she met Professor +Northrop. It is rumored that Professor Northrop has succeeded in +smuggling out of the country a very important stone bearing an +inscription which, I understand, is of more than ordinary interest. I +do not know anything definite about it, as Senora Herreria is very +reticent on the matter, but depend on you to find out if possible and +let me know of it. + +According to the rumors and the statements of the senora, it seems that +Northrop has taken an unfair advantage of the situation down in Oaxaca, +and I suppose she and others who know about the inscription feel that +it is really the possession of the government. + +You will find that the senora is an accomplished antiquarian and +scholar. Like many others down here just now, she has a high regard for +the Japanese. As you know, there exists a natural sympathy between some +Mexicans and Japanese, owing to what is believed to be a common origin +of the two races. + +In spite of the assertions of many to the contrary, there is little +doubt left in the minds of students that the Indian races which have +peopled Mexico were of Mongolian stock. Many words in some dialects are +easily understood by Chinese immigrants. A secretary of the Japanese +legation here was able recently to decipher old Mixtec inscriptions +found in the ruins of Mitla. + +Senora Herreria has been much interested in establishing the +relationship and, I understand, is acquainted with a Japanese curio +dealer in New York who recently visited Mexico for the same purpose. I +believe that she wishes to collaborate with him on a monograph on the +subject, which is expected to have a powerful effect on the public +opinion both here and at Tokyo. + +In regard to the inscription which Northrop has taken with him, I rely +on you to keep me informed. There seems to be a great deal of mystery +connected with it, and I am simply hazarding a guess as to its nature. +If it should prove to be something which might interest either the +Japanese or ourselves, you can see how important it may be, especially +in view of the forthcoming mission of General Francisco to Tokyo. + +Very sincerely yours, + +DR. EMILIO SANCHEZ, Director. + +"Bernardo is a Mexican," I exclaimed, as Kennedy finished reading, "and +there can be no doubt that the woman he mentioned was this Senora +Herreria." + +Kennedy said nothing, but seemed to be weighing the various paragraphs +in the letter. + +"Still," I observed, "so far, the only one against whom we have any +direct suspicion in the case is the shaggy Russian, whoever he is." + +"A man whom Bernardo says looked like a Russian," corrected Craig. + +He was pacing the laboratory restlessly. + +"This is becoming quite an international affair," he remarked finally, +pausing before me, his hat on. "Would you like to relax your mind by a +little excursion among the curio shops of the city? I know something +about Japanese curios--more, perhaps, than I do of Mexican. It may +amuse us, even if it doesn't help in solving the mystery. Meanwhile, I +shall make arrangements for shadowing Bernardo. I want to know just how +he acts after he reads that letter." + +He paused long enough to telephone his instructions to an uptown +detective agency which could be depended on for such mere routine work, +then joined me with the significant remark: "Blood is thicker than +water, anyhow, Walter. Still, even if the Mexicans are influenced by +sentiment, I hardly think that would account for the interest of our +friends from across the water in the matter." + +I do not know how many of the large and small curio shops of the city +we visited that afternoon. At another time, I should have enjoyed the +visits immensely, for anyone seeking articles of beauty will find the +antique shops of Fifth and Fourth Avenues and the side streets well +worth visiting. + +We came, at length, to one, a small, quaint, dusty rookery, down in a +basement, entered almost directly from the street. It bore over the +door a little gilt sign which read simply, "Sato's." + +As we entered, I could not help being impressed by the wealth of +articles in beautiful cloisonne enamel, in mother-of-pearl, lacquer, +and champleve. There were beautiful little koros, or incense burners, +vases, and teapots. There were enamels incrusted, translucent, and +painted, works of the famous Namikawa, of Kyoto, and Namikawa, of +Tokyo. Satsuma vases, splendid and rare examples of the potter's art, +crowded gorgeously embroidered screens depicting all sorts of brilliant +scenes, among others the sacred Fujiyama rising in the stately +distance. Sato himself greeted us with a ready smile and bow. + +"I am just looking for a few things to add to my den," explained +Kennedy, adding, "nothing in particular, but merely whatever happens to +strike my fancy." + +"Surely, then, you have come to the right shop," greeted Sato. "If +there is anything that interests you, I shall be glad to show it." + +"Thank you," replied Craig. "Don't let me trouble you with your other +customers. I will call on you if I see anything." + +For several minutes, Craig and I busied ourselves looking about, and we +did not have to feign interest, either. + +"Often things are not as represented," he whispered to me, after a +while, "but a connoiseur can tell spurious goods. These are the real +thing, mostly." + +"Not one in fifty can tell the difference," put in the voice of Sato, +at his elbow. + +"Well, you see I happen to know," Craig replied, not the least +disconcerted. "You can't always be too sure." + +A laugh and a shrug was Sato's answer. "It's well all are not so keen," +he said, with a frank acknowledgment that he was not above sharp +practices. + +I glanced now and then at the expressionless face of the curio dealer. +Was it merely the natural blankness of his countenance that impressed +me, or was there, in fact, something deep and dark hidden in it, +something of "East is East and West is West" which I did not and could +not understand? Craig was admiring the bronzes. He had paused before +one, a square metal fire-screen of odd design, with the title on a +card, "Japan Gazing at the World." + +It represented Japan as an eagle, with beak and talons of burnished +gold, resting on a rocky island about which great waves dashed. The +bird had an air of dignity and conscious pride in its strength, as it +looked out at the world, a globe revolving in space. + +"Do you suppose there is anything significant in that?" I asked, +pointing to the continent of North America, also in gold and +prominently in view. + +"Ah, honorable sir," answered Sato, before Kennedy could reply, "the +artist intended by that to indicate Japan's friendliness for America +and America's greatness." + +He was inscrutable. It seemed as if he were watching our every move, +and yet it was done with a polite cordiality that could not give +offense. + +Behind some bronzes of the Japanese Hercules destroying the demons and +other mythical heroes was a large alcove, or tokonoma, decorated with +peacock, stork, and crane panels. Carvings and lacquer added to the +beauty of it. A miniature chrysanthemum garden heightened the illusion. +Carved hinoki wood framed the panels, and the roof was supported by +columns in the old Japanese style, the whole being a compromise between +the very simple and quiet and the polychromatic. The dark woods, the +lanterns, the floor tiles of dark red, and the cushions of rich gold +and yellow were most alluring. It had the genuine fascination of the +Orient. + +"Will the gentlemen drink a little sake?" Sato asked politely. + +Craig thanked him and said that we would. + +"Otaka!" Sato called. + +A peculiar, almost white-skinned attendant answered, and a moment later +produced four cups and poured out the rice brandy, taking his own +quietly, apart from us. I watched him drink, curiously. He took the +cup; then, with a long piece of carved wood, he dipped into the sake, +shaking a few drops on the floor to the four quarters. Finally, with a +deft sweep, he lifted his heavy mustache with the piece of wood and +drank off the draft almost without taking breath. + +He was a peculiar man of middle height, with a shock of dark, tough, +woolly hair, well formed and not bad-looking, with a robust general +physique, as if his ancestors had been meat eaters. His forehead was +narrow and sloped backward; the cheekbones were prominent; nose hooked, +broad and wide, with strong nostrils; mouth large, with thick lips, and +not very prominent chin. His eyes were perhaps the most noticeable +feature. They were dark gray, almost like those of a European. + +As Otaka withdrew with the empty cups, we rose to continue our +inspection of the wonders of the shop. There were ivories of all +descriptions. Here was a two-handled sword, with a very large ivory +handle, a weirdly carved scabbard, and wonderful steel blade. By the +expression of Craig's face, Sato knew that he had made a sale. + +Craig had been rummaging among some warlike instruments which Sato, +with the instincts of a true salesman, was now displaying, and had +picked up a bow. It was short, very strong, and made of pine wood. He +held it horizontally and twanged the string. I looked up in time to +catch a pleased expression on the face of Otaka. + +"Most people would have held it the other way," commented Sato. + +Craig said nothing, but was examining an arrow, almost twenty inches +long and thick, made of cane, with a point of metal very sharp but +badly fastened. He fingered the deep blood groove in the scooplike head +of the arrow and looked at it carefully. + +"I'll take that," he said, "only I wish it were one with the regular +reddish-brown lump in it." + +"Oh, but, honorable sir," apologized Sato, "the Japanese law prohibits +that, now. There are few of those, and they are very valuable." + +"I suppose so," agreed Craig. "This will do, though. You have a +wonderful shop here, Sato. Some time, when I feel richer, I mean to +come in again. No, thank you, you need not send them; I'll carry them." + +We bowed ourselves out, promising to come again when Sato received a +new consignment from the Orient which he was expecting. + +"That other Jap is a peculiar fellow," I observed, as we walked along +uptown again. + +"He isn't a Jap," remarked Craig. "He is an Ainu, one of the aborigines +who have been driven northward into the island of Yezo." + +"An Ainu?" I repeated. + +"Yes. Generally thought, now, to be a white race and nearer of kin to +Europeans than Asiatics. The Japanese have pushed them northward and +are now trying to civilize them. They are a dirty, hairy race, but when +they are brought under civilizing influences they adapt themselves to +their environment and make very good servants. Still, they are on about +the lowest scale of humanity." + +"I thought Otaka was very mild," I commented. + +"They are a most inoffensive and peaceable people usually," he +answered, "good-natured and amenable to authority. But they become +dangerous when driven to despair by cruel treatment. The Japanese +government is very considerate of them--but not all Japanese are." + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE ARROW POISON + + +Far into the night Craig was engaged in some very delicate and minute +microscopic work in the laboratory. + +We were about to leave when there was a gentle tap on the door. Kennedy +opened it and admitted a young man, the operative of the detective +agency who had been shadowing Bernardo. His report was very brief, but, +to me at least, significant. Bernardo, on his return to the museum, had +evidently read the letter, which had agitated him very much, for a few +moments later he hurriedly left and went downtown to the Prince Henry +Hotel. The operative had casually edged up to the desk and overheard +whom he asked for. It was Senora Herreria. Once again, later in the +evening, he had asked for her, but she was still out. + +It was quite early the next morning, when Kennedy had resumed his +careful microscopic work, that the telephone bell rang, and he answered +it mechanically. But a moment later a look of intense surprise crossed +his face. + +"It was from Doctor Leslie," he announced, hanging up the receiver +quickly. "He has a most peculiar case which he wants me to see--a +woman." + +Kennedy called a cab, and, at a furious pace, we dashed across the city +and down to the Metropolitan Hospital, where Doctor Leslie was waiting. +He met us eagerly and conducted us to a little room where, lying +motionless on a bed, was a woman. + +She was a striking-looking woman, dark of hair and skin, and in life +she must have been sensuously attractive. But now her face was drawn +and contorted--with the same ghastly look that had been on the face of +Northrop. + +"She died in a cab," explained Doctor Leslie, "before they could get +her to the hospital. At first they suspected the cab driver. But he +seems to have proved his innocence. He picked her up last night on +Fifth Avenue, reeling--thought she was intoxicated. And, in fact, he +seems to have been right. Our tests have shown a great deal of alcohol +present, but nothing like enough to have had such a serious effect." + +"She told nothing of herself?" asked Kennedy. + +"No; she was pretty far gone when the cabby answered her signal. All he +could get out of her was a word that sounded like 'Curio-curio.' He +says she seemed to complain of something about her mouth and head. Her +face was drawn and shrunken; her hands were cold and clammy, and then +convulsions came on. He called an ambulance, but she was past saving +when it arrived. The numbness seemed to have extended over all her +body; swallowing was impossible; there was entire loss of her voice as +well as sight, and death took place by syncope." + +"Have you any clue to the cause of her death?" asked Craig. + +"Well, it might have been some trouble with her heart, I suppose," +remarked Doctor Leslie tentatively. + +"Oh, she looks strong that way. No, hardly anything organic." + +"Well, then I thought she looked like a Mexican," went on Doctor +Leslie. "It might be some new tropical disease. I confess I don't know. +The fact is," he added, lowering his voice, "I had my own theory about +it until a few moments ago. That was why I called you." + +"What do you mean?" asked Craig, evidently bent on testing his own +theory by the other's ignorance. + +Doctor Leslie made no answer immediately, but raised the sheet which +covered her body and disclosed, in the fleshy part of the upper arm, a +curious little red swollen mark with a couple of drops of darkened +blood. + +"I thought at first," he added, "that we had at last a genuine +'poisoned needle' case. You see, that looked like it. But I have made +all the tests for curare and strychnin without results." + +At the mere suggestion, a procession of hypodermic-needle and +white-slavery stories flashed before me. + +"But," objected Kennedy, "clearly this was not a case of kidnaping. It +is a case of murder. Have you tested for the ordinary poisons?" + +Doctor Leslie shook his head. "There was no poison," he said, +"absolutely none that any of our tests could discover." + +Kennedy bent over and squeezed out a few drops of liquid from the wound +on a microscope slide, and covered them. + +"You have not identified her yet," he added, looking up. "I think you +will find, Leslie, that there is a Senora Herreria registered at the +Prince Henry who is missing, and that this woman will agree with the +description of her. Anyhow, I wish you would look it up and let me +know." + +Half an hour later, Kennedy was preparing to continue his studies with +the microscope when Doctor Bernardo entered. He seemed most solicitous +to know what progress was being made on the case, and, although Kennedy +did not tell much, still he did not discourage conversation on the +subject. + +When we came in the night before, Craig had unwrapped and tossed down +the Japanese sword and the Ainu bow and arrow on a table, and it was +not long before they attracted Bernardo's attention. + +"I see you are a collector yourself," he ventured, picking them up. + +"Yes," answered Craig, offhand; "I picked them up yesterday at Sato's. +You know the place?" + +"Oh, yes, I know Sato," answered the curator, seemingly without the +slightest hesitation. "He has been in Mexico--is quite a student." + +"And the other man, Otaka?" + +"Other man--Otaka? You mean his wife?" + +I saw Kennedy check a motion of surprise and came to the rescue with +the natural question: "His wife--with a beard and mustache?" + +It was Bernardo's turn to be surprised. He looked at me a moment, then +saw that I meant it, and suddenly his face lighted up. + +"Oh," he exclaimed, "that must have been on account of the immigration +laws or something of the sort. Otaka is his wife. The Ainus are much +sought after by the Japanese as wives. The women, you know, have a +custom of tattooing mustaches on themselves. It is hideous, but they +think it is beautiful." + +"I know," I pursued, watching Kennedy's interest in our conversation, +"but this was not tattooed." + +"Well, then, it must have been false," insisted Bernardo. + +The curator chatted a few moments, during which I expected Kennedy to +lead the conversation around to Senora Herreria. But he did not, +evidently fearing to show his hand. + +"What did you make of it?" I asked, when he had gone. "Is he trying to +hide something?" + +"I think he has simplified the case," remarked Craig, leaning back, his +hands behind his head, gazing up at the ceiling. "Hello, here's Leslie! +What did you find, Doctor?" The coroner had entered with a look of awe +on his face, as if Kennedy had directed him by some sort of necromancy. + +"It was Senora Herreria!" he exclaimed. "She has been missing from the +hotel ever since late yesterday afternoon. What do you think of it?" + +"I think," replied Kennedy, speaking slowly and deliberately, "that it +is very much like the Northrop case. You haven't taken that up yet?" + +"Only superficially. What do you make of it?" asked the coroner. + +"I had an idea that it might be aconitin poisoning," he said. + +Leslie glanced at him keenly for a moment. "Then you'll never prove +anything in the laboratory," he said. + +"There are more ways of catching a criminal, Leslie," put in Craig, +"than are set down in the medico-legal text-books. I shall depend on +you and Jameson to gather together a rather cosmopolitan crowd here +to-night." + +He said it with a quiet confidence which I could not gainsay, although +I did not understand. However, mostly with the official aid of Doctor +Leslie, I followed out his instructions, and it was indeed a strange +party that assembled that night. There were Doctor Bernardo; Sato, the +curio dealer; Otaka, the Ainu, and ourselves. Mrs. Northrop, of course, +could not come. + +"Mexico," began Craig, after he had said a few words explaining why he +had brought us together, "is full of historical treasure. To all +intents and purposes, the government says, 'Come and dig.' But when +there are finds, then the government swoops down on them for its own +national museum. The finder scarcely gets a chance to export them. +However, now seemed to be the time to Professor Northrop to smuggle his +finds out of the country. + +"But evidently it could not be done without exciting all kinds of +rumors and suspicions. Stories seem to have spread far and fast about +what he had discovered. He realized the unsettled condition of the +country--perhaps wanted to confirm his reading of a certain inscription +by consultation with one scholar whom he thought he could trust. At any +rate, he came home." + +Kennedy paused, making use of the silence for emphasis. "You have all +read of the wealth that Cortez found in Mexico. Where are the gold and +silver of the conquistadores? Gone to the melting pot, centuries ago. +But is there none left? The Indians believe so. There are persons who +would stop at nothing--even at murder of American professors, murder of +their own comrades, to get at the secret." + +He laid his hand almost lovingly on his powerful little microscope as +he resumed on another line of evidence. + +"And while we are on the subject of murders, two very similar deaths +have occurred," he went on. "It is of no use to try to gloss them over. +Frankly, I suspected that they might have been caused by aconite +poisoning. But, in the case of such poisoning, not only is the lethal +dose very small but our chemical methods of detection are nil. The dose +of the active principle, aconitin nitrate, is about one six-hundredth +of a grain. There are no color tests, no reactions, as in the case of +the other organic poisons." + +I wondered what he was driving at. Was there, indeed, no test? Had the +murderer used the safest of poisons--one that left no clue? I looked +covertly at Sato's face. It was impassive. Doctor Bernardo was visibly +uneasy as Kennedy proceeded. Cool enough up to the time of the mention +of the treasure, I fancied, now, that he was growing more and more +nervous. + +Craig laid down on the table the reed stick with the little darkened +cylinder on the end. + +"That," he said, "is a little article which I picked up beneath +Northrop's window yesterday. It is a piece of anno-noki, or bushi." I +fancied I saw just a glint of satisfaction in Otaka's eyes. + +"Like many barbarians," continued Craig, "the Ainus from time +immemorial have prepared virulent poisons with which they charged their +weapons of the chase and warfare. The formulas for the preparations, as +in the case of other arrow poisons of other tribes, are known only to +certain members, and the secret is passed down from generation to +generation as an heirloom, as it were. But in this case it is no longer +a secret. It has now been proved that the active principle of this +poison is aconite." + +"If that is the case," broke in Doctor Leslie, "it is hopeless to +connect anyone directly in that way with these murders. There is no +test for aconitin." + +I thought Sato's face was more composed and impassive than ever. Doctor +Bernardo, however, was plainly excited. + +"What--no test--NONE?" asked Kennedy, leaning forward eagerly. Then, as +if he could restrain the answer to his own question no longer, he shot +out: "How about the new starch test just discovered by Professor +Reichert, of the University of Pennsylvania? Doubtless you never +dreamed that starch may be a means of detecting the nature of a poison +in obscure cases in criminology, especially in cases where the quantity +of poison necessary to cause death is so minute that no trace of it can +be found in the blood. + +"The starch method is a new and extremely inviting subject to me. The +peculiarities of the starch of any plant are quite as distinctive of +the plant as are those of the hemoglobin crystals in the blood of an +animal. I have analyzed the evidence of my microscope in this case +thoroughly. When the arrow poison is introduced subcutaneously--say, by +a person shooting a poisoned dart, which he afterward removes in order +to destroy the evidence--the lethal constituents are rapidly absorbed. + +"But the starch remains in the wound. It can be recovered and studied +microscopically and can be definitely recognized. Doctor Reichert has +published a study of twelve hundred such starches from all sorts of +plants. In this case, it not only proves to be aconitin but the starch +granules themselves can be recognized. They came from this piece of +arrow poison." + +Every eye was fixed on him now. + +"Besides," he rapped out, "in the soft soil beneath the window of +Professor Northrop's room, I found footprints. I have only to compare +the impressions I took there and those of the people in this room, to +prove that, while the real murderer stood guard below the window, he +sent some one more nimble up the rain pipe to shoot the poisoned dart +at Professor Northrop, and, later, to let down a rope by which he, the +instigator, could gain the room, remove the dart, and obtain the key to +the treasure he sought." + +Kennedy was looking straight at Professor Bernardo. + +"A friend of mine in Mexico has written me about an inscription," he +burst out. "I received the letter only to-day. As nearly as I can +gather, there was an impression that some of Northrop's stuff would be +valuable in proving the alleged kinship between Mexico and Japan, +perhaps to arouse hatred of the United States." + +"Yes--that is all very well," insisted Kennedy. "But how about the +treasure?" + +"Treasure?" repeated Bernardo, looking from one of us to another. + +"Yes," pursued Craig relentlessly, "the treasure. You are an expert in +reading the hieroglyphics. By your own statement, you and Northrop had +been going over the stuff he had sent up. You know it." + +Bernardo gave a quick glance from Kennedy to me. Evidently he saw that +the secret was out. + +"Yes," he said huskily, in a low tone, "Northrop and I were to follow +the directions after we had plotted them out and were to share it +together on the next expedition, which I could direct as a Mexican +without so much suspicion. I should still have shared it with his widow +if this unfortunate affair had not exposed the secret." + +Bernardo had risen earnestly. + +"Kennedy," he cried, "before God, if you will get back that stone and +keep the secret from going further than this room, I will prove what I +have said by dividing the Mixtec treasure with Mrs. Northrop and making +her one of the richest widows in the country!" + +"That is what I wanted to be sure of," nodded Craig. "Bernardo, Senora +Herreria, of whom your friend wrote to you from Mexico, has been +murdered in the same way that Professor Northrop was. Otaka was sent by +her husband to murder Northrop, in order that they might obtain the +so-called 'Pillar of Death' and the key to the treasure. Then, when the +senora was no doubt under the influence of sake in the pretty little +Oriental bower at the curio shop, a quick jab, and Otaka had removed +one who shared the secret with them." + +He had turned and faced the pair. + +"Sato," he added, "you played on the patriotism of the senora until you +wormed from her the treasure secret. Evidently rumors of it had spread +from Mexican Indians to Japanese visitors. And then, Otaka, all +jealousy over one whom she, no doubt, justly considered a rival, +completed your work by sending her forth to die, unknown, on the +street. Walter, ring up First Deputy O'Connor. The stone is hidden +somewhere in the curio shop. We can find it without Sato's help. The +quicker such a criminal is lodged safely in jail, the better for +humanity." + +Sato was on his feet, advancing cautiously toward Craig. I knew the +dangers, now, of anno-noki, as well as the wonders of jujutsu, and, +with a leap, I bounded past Bernardo and between Sato and Kennedy. + +How it happened, I don't know, but, an instant later, I was sprawling. + +Before I could recover myself, before even Craig had a chance to pull +the hair-trigger of his automatic, Sato had seized the Ainu arrow +poison from the table, had bitten the little cylinder in half, and had +crammed the other half into the mouth of Otaka. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE RADIUM ROBBER + + +Kennedy simply reached for the telephone and called an ambulance. But +it was purely perfunctory. Dr. Leslie himself was the only official who +could handle Sato's case now. + +We had planned a little vacation for ourselves, but the planning came +to naught. The next night we spent on a sleeper. That in itself is work +to me. + +It all came about through a hurried message from Murray Denison, +president of the Federal Radium Corporation. Nothing would do but that +he should take both Kennedy and myself with him post-haste to +Pittsburgh at the first news of what had immediately been called "the +great radium robbery." + +Of course the newspapers were full of it. The very novelty of an +ultra-modern cracksman going off with something worth upward of a +couple of hundred thousand dollars--and all contained in a few platinum +tubes which could be tucked away in a vest pocket--had something about +it powerfully appealing to the imagination. + +"Most ingenious, but, you see, the trouble with that safe is that it +was built to keep radium IN--not cracksmen OUT," remarked Kennedy, when +Denison had rushed us from the train to take a look at the little safe +in the works of the Corporation. + +"Breaking into such a safe as this," added Kennedy, after a cursory +examination, "is simple enough, after all." + +It was, however, a remarkably ingenious contrivance, about three feet +in height and of a weight of perhaps a ton and a half, and all to house +something weighing only a few grains. + +"But," Denison hastened to explain, "we had to protect the radium not +only against burglars, but, so to speak, against itself. Radium +emanations pass through steel and experiments have shown that the best +metal to contain them is lead. So, the difficulty was solved by making +a steel outer case enclosing an inside leaden shell three inches thick." + +Kennedy had been toying thoughtfully with the door. + +"Then the door, too, had to be contrived so as to prevent any escape of +the emanations through joints. It is lathe turned and circular, a 'dead +fit.' By means of a special contrivance any slight looseness caused by +wear and tear of closing can be adjusted. And another feature. That is +the appliance for preventing the loss of emanation when the door is +opened. Two valves have been inserted into the door and before it is +opened tubes with mercury are passed through which collect and store +the emanation." + +"All very nice for the radium," remarked Craig cheerfully. "But the +fellow had only to use an electric drill and the gram or more of radium +was his." + +"I know that--now," ruefully persisted Denison. "But the safe was +designed for us specially. The fellow got into it and got away, as far +as I can see, without leaving a clue." + +"Except one, of course," interrupted Kennedy quickly. + +Denison looked at him a moment keenly, then nodded and said, "Yes--you +are right. You mean one which he must bear on himself?" + +"Exactly. You can't carry a gram or more of radium bromide long with +impunity. The man to look for is one who in a few days will have +somewhere on his body a radium burn which will take months to heal. The +very thing he stole is a veritable Frankenstein's monster bent on the +destruction of the thief himself!" + +Kennedy had meanwhile picked up one of the Corporation's circulars +lying on a desk. He ran his eye down the list of names. + +"So, Hartley Haughton, the broker, is one of your stockholders," mused +Kennedy. + +"Not only one but THE one," replied Denison with obvious pride. + +Haughton was a young man who had come recently into his fortune, and, +while no one believed it to be large, he had cut quite a figure in Wall +Street. + +"You know, I suppose," added Denison, "that he is engaged to Felicie +Woods, the daughter of Mrs. Courtney Woods?" + +Kennedy did not, but said nothing. + +"A most delightful little girl," continued Denison thoughtfully. "I +have known Mrs. Woods for some time. She wanted to invest, but I told +her frankly that this is, after all, a speculation. We may not be able +to swing so big a proposition, but, if not, no one can say we have +taken a dollar of money from widows and orphans." + +"I should like to see the works," nodded Kennedy approvingly. + +"By all means." + +The plant was a row of long low buildings of brick on the outskirts of +the city, once devoted to the making of vanadium steel. The ore, as +Denison explained, was brought to Pittsburgh because he had found here +already a factory which could readily be turned into a plant for the +extraction of radium. Huge baths and vats and crucibles for the various +acids and alkalis and other processes used in treating the ore stood at +various points. + +"This must be like extracting gold from sea water," remarked Kennedy +jocosely, impressed by the size of the plant as compared to the product. + +"Except that after we get through we have something infinitely more +precious than gold," replied Denison, "something which warrants the +trouble and outlay. Yes, the fact is that the percentage of radium in +all such ores is even less than of gold in sea water." + +"Everything seems to be most carefully guarded," remarked Kennedy as we +concluded our tour of the well-appointed works. + +He had gone over everything in silence, and now at last we had returned +to the safe. + +"Yes," he repeated slowly, as if confirming his original impression, +"such an amount of radium as was stolen wouldn't occasion immediate +discomfort to the thief, I suppose, but later no infernal machine could +be more dangerous to him." + +I pictured to myself the series of fearful works of mischief and terror +that might follow, a curse on the thief worse than that of the weirdest +curses of the Orient, the danger to the innocent, and the fact that in +the hands of a criminal it was an instrument for committing crimes that +might defy detection. + +"There is nothing more to do here now," he concluded. "I can see +nothing for the present except to go back to New York. The telltale +burn may not be the only clue, but if the thief is going to profit by +his spoils we shall hear about it best in New York or by cable from +London, Paris, or some other European city." + +Our hurried departure from New York had not given us a chance to visit +the offices of the Radium Corporation for the distribution of the salts +themselves. They were in a little old office building on William +Street, near the drug district and yet scarcely a moment's walk from +the financial district. + +"Our head bookkeeper, Miss Wallace, is ill," remarked Denison when we +arrived at the office, "but if there is anything I can do to help you, +I shall be glad to do it. We depend on Miss Wallace a great deal. +Haughton says she is the brains of the office." + +Kennedy looked about the well-appointed suite curiously. + +"Is this another of those radium safes?" he asked, approaching one +similar in appearance to that which had been broken open already. + +"Yes, only a little larger." + +"How much is in it?" + +"Most of our supply. I should say about two and a half grams. Miss +Wallace has the record." + +"It is of the same construction, I presume," pursued Kennedy. "I wonder +whether the lead lining fits closely to the steel?" + +"I think not," considered Denison. "As I remember there was a sort of +insulating air cushion or something of the sort." + +Denison was quite eager to show us about. In fact ever since he had +hustled us out to view the scene of the robbery, his high nervous +tension had given us scarcely a moment's rest. For hours he had talked +radium, until I felt that he, like his metal, must have an +inexhaustible emanation of words. He was one of those nervous, active +little men, a born salesman, whether of ribbons or radium. + +"We have just gone into furnishing radium water," he went on, bustling +about and patting a little glass tank. + +I looked closely and could see that the water glowed in the dark with a +peculiar phosphorescence. + +"The apparatus for the treatment," he continued, "consists of two glass +and porcelain receptacles. Inside the larger receptacle is placed the +smaller, which contains a tiny quantity of radium. Into the larger +receptacle is poured about a gallon of filtered water. The emanation +from that little speck of radium is powerful enough to penetrate its +porcelain holder and charge the water with its curative properties. +From a tap at the bottom of the tank the patient draws the number of +glasses of water a day prescribed. For such purposes the emanation +within a day or two of being collected is as good as radium itself. +Why, this water is five thousand times as radioactive as the most +radioactive natural spring water." + +"You must have control of a comparatively large amount of the metal," +suggested Kennedy. + +"We are, I believe, the largest holders of radium in the world," he +answered. "I have estimated that all told there are not much more than +ten grams, of which Madame Curie has perhaps three, while Sir Ernest +Cassel of London is the holder of perhaps as much. We have nearly four +grams, leaving about six or seven for the rest of the world." + +Kennedy nodded and continued to look about. + +"The Radium Corporation," went on Denison, "has several large deposits +of radioactive ore in Utah in what is known as the Poor Little Rich +Valley, a valley so named because from being about the barrenest and +most unproductive mineral or agricultural hole in the hills, the sudden +discovery of the radioactive deposits has made it almost priceless." + +He had entered a private office and was looking over some mail that had +been left on his desk during his absence. + +"Look at this," he called, picking up a clipping from a newspaper which +had been laid there for his attention. "You see, we have them aroused." + +We read the clipping together hastily: + +PLAN TO CORNER WORLD'S RADIUM + +LONDON.--Plans are being matured to form a large corporation for the +monopoly of the existing and future supply of radium throughout the +world. The company is to be called Universal Radium, Limited, and the +capital of ten million dollars will be offered for public subscription +at par simultaneously in London, Paris and New York. + +The company's business will be to acquire mines and deposits of +radioactive substances as well as the control of patents and processes +connected with the production of radium. The outspoken purpose of the +new company is to obtain a world-wide monopoly and maintain the price. + + "Ah--a competitor," commented Kennedy, handing back the clipping. + +"Yes. You know radium salts used always to come from Europe. Now we are +getting ready to do some exporting ourselves. Say," he added excitedly, +"there's an idea, possibly, in that." + +"How?" queried Craig. + +"Why, since we should be the principal competitors to the foreign +mines, couldn't this robbery have been due to the machinations of these +schemers? To my mind, the United States, because of its supply of +radium-bearing ores, will have to be reckoned with first in cornering +the market. This is the point, Kennedy. Would those people who seem to +be trying to extend their new company all over the world stop at +anything in order to cripple us at the start?" + +How much longer Denison would have rattled on in his effort to explain +the robbery, I do not know. The telephone rang and a reporter from the +Record, who had just read my own story in the Star, asked for an +interview. I knew that it would be only a question of minutes now +before the other men were wearing a path out on the stairs, and we +managed to get away before the onrush began. + +"Walter," said Kennedy, as soon as we had reached the street. "I want +to get in touch with Halsey Haughton. How can it be done?" + +I could think of nothing better at that moment than to inquire at the +Star's Wall Street office, which happened to be around the corner. I +knew the men down there intimately, and a few minutes later we were +whisked up in the elevator to the office. + +They were as glad to see me as I was to see them, for the story of the +robbery had interested the financial district perhaps more than any +other. + +"Where can I find Halsey Haughton at this hour?" I asked. + +"Say," exclaimed one of the men, "what's the matter? There have been +all kinds of rumors in the Street about him to-day. Did you know he was +ill?" + +"No," I answered. "Where is he?" + +"Out at the home of his fiancee, who is the daughter of Mrs. Courtney +Woods, at Glenclair." + +"What's the matter?" I persisted. + +"That's just it. No one seems to know. They say--well--they say he has +a cancer." + +Halsey Haughton suffering from cancer? It was such an uncommon thing to +hear of a young man that I looked up quickly in surprise. Then all at +once it flashed over me that Denison and Kennedy had discussed the +matter of burns from the stolen radium. Might not this be, instead of +cancer, a radium burn? + +Kennedy, who had been standing a little apart from me while I was +talking with the boys, signaled to me with a quick glance not to say +too much, and a few minutes later we were on the street again. + +I knew without being told that he was bound by the next train to the +pretty little New Jersey suburb of Glenclair. + +It was late when we arrived, yet Kennedy had no hesitation in calling +at the quaint home of Mrs. Courtney Woods on Woodridge Avenue. + +Mrs. Woods, a well-set-up woman of middle age, who had retained her +youth and good looks in a remarkable manner, met us in the foyer. +Briefly, Kennedy explained that we had just come in from Pittsburgh +with Mr. Denison and that it was very important that we should see +Haughton at once. + +We had hardly told her the object of our visit when a young woman of +perhaps twenty-two or three, a very pretty girl, with all the good +looks of her mother and a freshness which only youth can possess, +tiptoed quietly downstairs. Her face told plainly that she was deeply +worried over the illness of her fiance. + +"Who is it, mother?" she whispered from the turn in the stairs. "Some +gentlemen from the company? Hartley's door was open when the bell rang, +and he thought he heard something said about the Pittsburgh affair." + +Though she had whispered, it had not been for the purpose of concealing +anything from us, but rather that the keen ears of her patient might +not catch the words. She cast an inquiring glance at us. + +"Yes," responded Kennedy in answer to her look, modulating his tone. +"We have just left Mr. Denison at the office. Might we see Mr. Haughton +for a moment? I am sure that nothing we can say or do will be as bad +for him as our going away, now that he knows that we are here." + +The two women appeared to consult for a moment. + +"Felicie," called a rather nervous voice from the second floor, "is it +some one from the company?" + +"Just a moment, Hartley," she answered, then, lower to her mother, +added, "I don't think it can do any harm, do you, mother?" + +"You remember the doctor's orders, my dear." + +Again the voice called her. + +"Hang the doctor's orders," the girl exclaimed, with an air of almost +masculinity. "It can't be half so bad as to have him worry. Will you +promise not to stay long? We expect Dr. Bryant in a few moments, +anyway." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE SPINTHARISCOPE + + +We followed her upstairs and into Haughton's room, where he was lying +in bed, propped up by pillows. Haughton certainly was ill. There was no +mistake about that. He was a tall, gaunt man with an air about him that +showed that he found illness very irksome. Around his neck was a +bandage, and some adhesive tape at the back showed that a plaster of +some sort had been placed there. + +As we entered his eyes traveled restlessly from the face of the girl to +our own in an inquiring manner. He stretched out a nervous hand to us, +while Kennedy in a few short sentences explained how we had become +associated with the case and what we had seen already. + +"And there is not a clue?" he repeated as Craig finished. + +"Nothing tangible yet," reiterated Kennedy. "I suppose you have heard +of this rumor from London of a trust that is going into the radium +field internationally?" + +"Yes," he answered, "that is the thing you read to me in the morning +papers, you remember, Felicie. Denison and I have heard such rumors +before. If it is a fight, then we shall give them a fight. They can't +hold us up, if Denison is right in thinking that they are at the bottom +of this--this robbery." + +"Then you think he may be right?" shot out Kennedy quickly. + +Haughton glanced nervously from Kennedy to me. + +"Really," he answered, "you see how impossible it is for me to have an +opinion? You and Denison have been over the ground. You know much more +about it than I do. I am afraid I shall have to defer to you." + +Again we heard the bell downstairs, and a moment later a cheery voice, +as Mrs. Woods met some one down in the foyer, asked, "How is the +patient to-night?" + +We could not catch the reply. + +"Dr. Bryant, my physician," put in Haughton. "Don't go. I will assume +the responsibility for your being here. Hello, Doctor. Why, I'm much +the same to-night, thank you. At least no worse since I took your +advice and went to bed." + +Dr. Bryant was a bluff, hearty man, with the personal magnetism which +goes with the making of a successful physician. He had mounted the +stairs quietly but rapidly, evidently prepared to see us. + +"Would you mind waiting in this little dressing room?" asked the +doctor, motioning to another, smaller room adjoining. + +He had taken from his pocket a little instrument with a dial face like +a watch, which he attached to Haughton's wrist. "A pocket instrument to +measure blood pressure," whispered Craig, as we entered the little room. + +While the others were gathered about Haughton, we stood in the next +room, out of earshot. Kennedy had leaned his elbow on a chiffonier. As +he looked about the little room, more from force of habit than because +he thought he might discover anything, Kennedy's eye rested on a glass +tray on the top in which lay some pins, a collar button or two, which +Haughton had apparently just taken off, and several other little +unimportant articles. + +Kennedy bent over to look at the glass tray more closely, a puzzled +look crossed his face, and with a glance at the other room he gathered +up the tray and its contents. + +"Keep up a good courage," said Dr. Bryant. "You'll come out all right, +Haughton." Then as he left the bedroom he added to us, "Gentlemen, I +hope you will pardon me, but if you could postpone the remainder of +your visit until a later day, I am sure you will find it more +satisfactory." + +There was an air of finality about the doctor, though nothing +unpleasant in it. We followed him down the stairs, and as we did so, +Felicie, who had been waiting in a reception room, appeared before the +portieres, her earnest eyes fixed on his kindly face. + +"Dr. Bryant," she appealed, "is he--is he, really--so badly?" + +The Doctor, who had apparently known her all her life, reached down and +took one of her hands, patting it with his own in a fatherly way. +"Don't worry, little girl," he encouraged. "We are going to come out +all right--all right." + +She turned from him to us and, with a bright forced smile which showed +the stuff she was made of, bade us good night. + +Outside, the Doctor, apparently regretting that he had virtually forced +us out, paused before his car. "Are you going down toward the station? +Yes? I am going that far. I should be glad to drive you there." + +Kennedy climbed into the front seat, leaving me in the rear where the +wind wafted me their brief conversation as we sped down Woodbridge +Avenue. + +"What seems to be the trouble?" asked Craig. + +"Very high blood pressure, for one thing," replied the Doctor frankly. + +"For which the latest thing is the radium water cure, I suppose?" +ventured Kennedy. + +"Well, radioactive water is one cure for hardening of the arteries. But +I didn't say he had hardening of the arteries. Still, he is taking the +water, with good results. You are from the company?" + +Kennedy nodded. + +"It was the radium water that first interested him in it. Why, we found +a pressure of 230 pounds, which is frightful, and we have brought it +down to 150, not far from normal." + +"Still that could have nothing to do with the sore on his neck," +hazarded Kennedy. + +The Doctor looked at him quickly, then ahead at the path of light which +his motor shed on the road. + +He said nothing, but I fancied that even he felt there was something +strange in his silence over the new complication. He did not give +Kennedy a chance to ask whether there were any other such sores. + +"At any rate," he said, as he throttled down his engine with a flourish +before the pretty little Glenclair station, "that girl needn't worry." + +There was evidently no use in trying to extract anything further from +him. He had said all that medical ethics or detective skill could get +from him. We thanked him and turned to the ticket window to see how +long we should have to wait. + +"Either that doctor doesn't know what he is talking about or he is +concealing something," remarked Craig, as we paced up and down the +platform. "I am inclined to read the enigma in the latter way." + +Nothing more passed between us during the journey back, and we hurried +directly to the laboratory, late as it was. Kennedy had evidently been +revolving something over and over in his mind, for the moment he had +switched on the light, he unlocked one of his air-and dust-proof +cabinets and took from it an instrument which he placed on a table +before him. + +It was a peculiar-looking instrument, like a round glass electric +battery with a cylinder atop, smaller and sticking up like a safety +valve. On that were an arm, a dial, and a lens fixed in such a way as +to read the dial. I could not see what else the rather complicated +little apparatus consisted of, but inside, when Kennedy brought near it +the pole of a static electric machine two delicate thin leaves of gold +seemed to fly wide apart when it was charged. + +Kennedy had brought the glass tray near the thing. Instantly the leaves +collapsed and he made a reading through the lens. + +"What is it?" I asked. + +"A radioscope," he replied, still observing the scale. "Really a very +sensitive gold leaf electroscope, devised by one of the students of +Madame Curie. This method of detection is far more sensitive even than +the spectroscope." + +"What does it mean when the leaves collapse?" I asked. + +"Radium has been near that tray," he answered. "It is radioactive. I +suspected it first when I saw that violet color. That is what radium +does to that kind of glass. You see, if radium exists in a gram of +inactive matter only to the extent of one in ten-thousand million parts +its presence can be readily detected by this radioscope, and everything +that has been rendered radioactive is the same. Ordinarily the air +between the gold leaves is insulating. Bringing something radioactive +near them renders the air a good conductor and the leaves fall under +the radiation." + +"Wonderful!" I exclaimed, marveling at the delicacy of it. + +"Take radium water," he went on, "sufficiently impregnated with radium +emanations to be luminous in the dark, like that water of Denison's. It +would do the same. In fact all mineral waters and the so-called +curarive muds like fango are slightly radioactive. There seems to be a +little radium everywhere on earth that experiments have been made, even +in the interiors of buildings. It is ubiquitous. We are surrounded and +permeated by radiations--that soil out there on the campus, the air of +this room, all. But," he added contemplatively, "there is something +different about that tray. A lot of radium has been near that, and +recently." + +"How about that bandage about Haughton's neck?" I asked suddenly. "Do +you think radium could have had anything to do with that?" "Well, as to +burns, there is no particular immediate effect usually, and sometimes +even up to two weeks or more, unless the exposure has been long and to +a considerable quantity. Of course radium keeps itself three or four +degrees warmer than other things about it constantly. But that isn't +what does the harm. It is continually emitting little corpuscles, which +I'll explain some other time, traveling all the way from twenty to one +hundred and thirty thousand miles a second, and these corpuscles +blister and corrode the flesh like quick-moving missiles bombarding it. +The gravity of such lesions increases with the purity of the radium. +For instance I have known an exposure of half an hour to a +comparatively small quantity through a tube, a box and the clothes to +produce a blister fifteen days later. Curie said he wouldn't trust +himself in a room with a kilogram of it. It would destroy his eyesight, +burn off his skin and kill him eventually. Why, even after a slight +exposure your clothes are radioactive--the electroscope will show that." + +He was still fumbling with the glass plate and the various articles on +it. + +"There's something very peculiar about all this," he muttered, almost +to himself. + +Tired by the quick succession of events of the past two days, I left +Kennedy still experimenting in his laboratory and retired, still +wondering when the real clue was to develop. Who could it have been who +bore the tell-tale burn? Was the mark hidden by the bandage about +Haughton's neck the brand of the stolen tubes? Or were there other +marks on his body which we could not see? + +No answer came to me, and I fell asleep and woke up without a radiation +of light on the subject. Kennedy spent the greater part of the day +still at work at his laboratory, performing some very delicate +experiments. Finding nothing to do there, I went down to the Star +office and spent my time reading the reports that came in from the +small army of reporters who had been assigned to run down clues in the +case which was the sensation of the moment. I have always felt my own +lips sealed in such cases, until the time came that the story was +complete and Kennedy released me from any further need of silence. The +weird and impossible stories which came in not only to the Star but to +the other papers surely did make passable copy in this instance, but +with my knowledge of the case I could see that not one of them brought +us a step nearer the truth. + +One thing which uniformly puzzled the newspapers was the illness of +Haughton and his enforced idleness at a time which was of so much +importance to the company which he had promoted and indeed very largely +financed. Then, of course, there was the romantic side of his +engagement to Felicie Woods. + +Just what connection Felicie Woods had with the radium robbery if any, +I was myself unable quite to fathom. Still, that made no difference to +the papers. She was pretty and therefore they published her picture, +three columns deep, with Haughton and Denison, who were intimately +concerned with the real loss in little ovals perhaps an inch across and +two inches in the opposite dimension. + +The late afternoon news editions had gone to press, and I had given up +in despair, determined to go up to the laboratory and sit around idly +watching Kennedy with his mystifying experiments, in preference to +waiting for him to summon me. + +I had scarcely arrived and settled myself to an impatient watch, when +an automobile drove up furiously, and Denison himself, very excited, +jumped out and dashed into the laboratory. + +"What's the matter?" asked Kennedy, looking up from a test tube which +he had been examining, with an air for all the world expressive of "Why +so hot, little man?" + +"I've had a threat," ejaculated Denison. + +He laid on one of the laboratory tables a letter, without heading and +without signature, written in a disguised hand, with an evident attempt +to simulate the cramped script of a foreign penmanship. + +"I know who did the Pittsburgh job. The same party is out to ruin +Federal Radium. Remember Pittsburgh and be prepared! + +"A STOCKHOLDER." + +"Well?" demanded Kennedy, looking up. + +"That can have only one meaning," asserted Denison. + +"What is that?" inquired Kennedy coolly, as if to confirm his own +interpretation. + +"Why, another robbery--here in New York, of course." + +"But who would do it?" I asked. + +"Who?" repeated Denison. "Some one representing that European combine, +of course. That is only part of the Trust method--ruin of competitors +whom they cannot absorb." + +"Then you have refused to go into the combine? You know who is backing +it?" + +"No--no," admitted Denison reluctantly. "We have only signified our +intent to go it alone, as often as anyone either with or without +authority has offered to buy us out. No, I do not even know who the +people are. They never act in the open. The only hints I have ever +received were through perfectly reputable brokers acting for others." + +"Does Haughton know of this note?" asked Kennedy. + +"Yes. As soon as I received it, I called him up." + +"What did he say?" + +"He said to disregard it. But--you know what condition he is in. I +don't know what to do, whether to surround the office by a squad of +detectives or remove the radium to a regular safety deposit vault, even +at the loss of the emanation. Haughton has left it to me." + +Suddenly the thought flashed across my mind that perhaps Haughton could +act in this uninterested fashion because he had no fear of ruin either +way. Might he not be playing a game with the combination in which he +had protected himself so that he would win, no matter what happened? + +"What shall I do?" asked Denison. "It is getting late." + +"Neither," decided Kennedy. + +Denison shook his head. "No," he said, "I shall have some one watch +there, anyhow." + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE ASPHYXIATING SAFE + + +Denison had scarcely gone to arrange for some one to watch the office +that night, when Kennedy, having gathered up his radioscope and packed +into a parcel a few other things from various cabinets, announced: +"Walter, I must see that Miss Wallace, right away. Denison has already +given me her address. Call a cab while I finish clearing up here. I +don't like the looks of this thing, even if Haughton does neglect it." + +We found Miss Wallace at a modest boarding-house in an old but still +respectable part of the city. She was a very pretty girl, of the +slender type, rather a business woman than one given much to amusement. +She had been ill and was still ill. That was evident from the +solicitous way in which the motherly landlady scrutinized two strange +callers. + +Kennedy presented a card from Denison, and she came down to the parlor +to see us. + +"Miss Wallace," began Kennedy, "I know it is almost cruel to trouble +you when you are not feeling like office work, but since the robbery of +the safe at Pittsburgh, there have been threats of a robbery of the New +York office." + +She started involuntarily, and it was evident, I thought, that she was +in a very high-strung state. + +"Oh," she cried, "why, the loss means ruin to Mr. Denison!" + +There were genuine tears in her eyes as she said it. + +"I thought you would be willing to aid us," pursued Kennedy +sympathetically. "Now, for one thing, I want to be perfectly sure just +how much radium the Corporation owns, or rather owned before the first +robbery." + +"The books will show it," she said simply. + +"They will?" commented Kennedy. "Then if you will explain to me briefly +just the system you used in keeping account of it, perhaps I need not +trouble you any more." + +"I'll go down there with you," she answered bravely. "I'm better +to-day, anyhow, I think." + +She had risen, but it was evident that she was not as strong as she +wanted us to think. + +"The least I can do is to make it as easy as possible by going in a +car," remarked Kennedy, following her into the hall where there was a +telephone. + +The hallway was perfectly dark, yet as she preceded us I could see that +the diamond pin which held her collar in the back sparkled as if a +lighted candle had been brought near it. I had noticed in the parlor +that she wore a handsome tortoiseshell comb set with what I thought +were other brilliants, but when I looked I saw now that there was not +the same sparkle to the comb which held her dark hair in a soft mass. I +noticed these little things at the time, not because I thought they had +any importance, but merely by chance, wondering at the sparkle of the +one diamond which had caught my eye. + +"What do you make of her?" I asked as Kennedy finished telephoning. + +"A very charming and capable girl," he answered noncommittally. + +"Did you notice how that diamond in her neck sparkled?" I asked quickly. + +He nodded. Evidently it had attracted his attention, too. + +"What makes it?" I pursued. + +"Well, you know radium rays will make a diamond fluoresce in the dark." + +"Yes," I objected, "but how about those in the comb?" + +"Paste, probably," he answered tersely, as we heard her foot on the +landing. "The rays won't affect paste." + +It was indeed a shame to take advantage of Miss Wallace's loyalty to +Denison, but she was so game about it that I knew only the utmost +necessity on Kennedy's part would have prompted him to do it. She had a +key to the office so that it was not necessary to wait for Denison, if +indeed we could have found him. + +Together she and Kennedy went over the records. It seemed that there +were in the safe twenty-five platinum tubes of one hundred milligrams +each, and that there had been twelve of the same amount at Pittsburgh. +Little as it seemed in weight it represented a fabulous fortune. + +"You have not the combination?" inquired Kennedy. + +"No. Only Mr. Denison has that. What are you going to do to protect the +safe to-night?" she asked. + +"Nothing especially," evaded Kennedy. + +"Nothing?" she repeated in amazement. + +"I have another plan," he said, watching her intently. "Miss Wallace, +it was too much to ask you to come down here. You are ill." + +She was indeed quite pale, as if the excitement had been an +overexertion. + +"No, indeed," she persisted. Then, feeling her own weakness, she moved +toward the door of Denison's office where there was a leather couch. +"Let me rest here a moment. I do feel queer. I--" + +She would have fallen if he had not sprung forward and caught her as +she sank to the floor, overcome by the exertion. + +Together we carried her in to the couch, and as we did so the comb from +her hair clattered to the floor. + +Craig threw open the window, and bathed her face with water until there +was a faint flutter of the eyelids. + +"Walter," he said, as she began to revive, "I leave her to you. Keep +her quiet for a few moments. She has unintentionally given me just the +opportunity I want." + +While she was yet hovering between consciousness and unconsciousness on +the couch, he had unwrapped the package which he had brought with him. +For a moment he held the comb which she had dropped near the +radioscope. With a low exclamation of surprise he shoved it into his +pocket. + +Then from the package he drew a heavy piece of apparatus which looked +as if it might be the motor part of an electric fan, only in place of +the fan he fitted a long, slim, vicious-looking steel bit. A flexible +wire attached the thing to the electric light circuit and I knew that +it was an electric drill. With his coat off he tugged at the little +radium safe until he had moved it out, then dropped on his knees behind +it and switched the current on in the electric drill. + +It was a tedious process to drill through the steel of the outer casing +of the safe and it was getting late. I shut the door to the office so +that Miss Wallace could not see. + +At last by the cessation of the low hum of the boring, I knew that he +had struck the inner lead lining. Quietly I opened the door and stepped +out. He was injecting something from an hermetically sealed lead tube +into the opening he had made and allowing it to run between the two +linings of lead and steel. Then using the tube itself he sealed the +opening he had made and dabbed a little black over it. + +Quickly he shoved the safe back, then around it concealed several small +coils with wires also concealed and leading out through a window to a +court. + +"We'll catch the fellow this time," he remarked as he worked. "If you +ever have any idea, Walter, of going into the burglary business, it +would be well to ascertain if the safes have any of these little +selenium cells as suggested by my friend, Mr. Hammer, the inventor. For +by them an alarm can be given miles away the moment an intruder's +bull's-eye falls on a hidden cell sensitive to light." + +While I was delegated to take Miss Wallace home, Kennedy made +arrangements with a small shopkeeper on the ground floor of a building +that backed up on the court for the use of his back room that night, +and had already set up a bell actuated by a system of relays which the +weak current from the selenium cells could operate. + +It was not until nearly midnight that he was ready to leave the +laboratory again, where he had been busily engaged in studying the +tortoiseshell comb which Miss Wallace in her weakness had forgotten. + +The little shopkeeper let us in sleepily and Kennedy deposited a large +round package on a chair in the back of the shop, as well as a long +piece of rubber tubing. Nothing had happened so far. + +As we waited the shopkeeper, now wide awake and not at all unconvinced +that we were bent on some criminal operation, hung around. Kennedy did +not seem to care. He drew from his pocket a little shiny brass +instrument in a lead case, which looked like an abbreviated microscope. + +"Look through it," he said, handing it to me. + +I looked and could see thousands of minute sparks. + +"What is it?" I asked. + +"A spinthariscope. In that it is possible to watch the bombardment of +the countless little corpuscles thrown off by radium, as they strike on +the zinc blende crystal which forms the base. When radium was +originally discovered, the interest was merely in its curious +properties, its power to emit invisible rays which penetrated solid +substances and rendered things fluorescent, of expending energy without +apparent loss. + +"Then came the discovery," he went on, "of its curative powers. But the +first results were not convincing. Still, now that we know the reasons +why radium may be dangerous and how to protect ourselves against them +we know we possess one of the most wonderful of curative agencies." + +I was thinking rather of the dangers than of the beneficence of radium +just now, but Kennedy continued. + +"It has cured many malignant growths that seemed hopeless, brought back +destroyed cells, exercised good effects in diseases of the liver and +intestines and even the baffling diseases of the arteries. The reason +why harm, at first, as well as good came, is now understood. Radium +emits, as I told you before, three kinds of rays, the alpha, beta, and +gamma rays, each with different properties. The emanation is another +matter. It does not concern us in this case, as you will see." + +Fascinated as I was by the mystery of the case, I began to see that he +was gradually arriving at an explanation which had baffled everyone +else. + +"Now, the alpha rays are the shortest," he launched forth, "in length +let us say one inch. They exert a very destructive effect on healthy +tissue. That is the cause of injury. They are stopped by glass, +aluminum and other metals, and are really particles charged with +positive electricity. The beta rays come next, say, about an inch and a +half. They stimulate cell growth. Therefore they are dangerous in +cancer, though good in other ways. They can be stopped by lead, and are +really particles charged with negative electricity. The gamma rays are +the longest, perhaps three inches long, and it is these rays which +effect cures, for they check the abnormal and stimulate the normal +cells. They penetrate lead. Lead seems to filter them out from the +other rays. And at three inches the other rays don't reach, anyhow. The +gamma rays are not charged with electricity at all, apparently." + +He had brought a little magnet near the spinthariscope. I looked into +it. + +"A magnet," he explained, "shows the difference between the alpha, +beta, and gamma rays. You see those weak and wobbly rays that seem to +fall to one side? Those are the alpha rays. They have a strong action, +though, on tissues and cells. Those falling in the other direction are +the beta rays. The gamma rays seem to flow straight." + +"Then it is the alpha rays with which we are concerned mostly now?" I +queried, looking up. + +"Exactly. That is why, when radium is unprotected or insufficiently +protected and comes too near, it is destructive of healthy cells, +produces burns, sores, which are most difficult to heal. It is with the +explanation of such sores that we must deal." + +It was growing late. We had waited patiently now for some time. Kennedy +had evidently reserved this explanation, knowing we should have to +wait. Still nothing happened. + +Added to the mystery of the violet-colored glass plate was now that of +the luminescent diamond. I was about to ask Kennedy point-blank what he +thought of them, when suddenly the little bell before us began to buzz +feebly under the influence of a current. + +I gave a start. The faithful little selenium cell burglar alarm had +done the trick. I knew that selenium was a good conductor of +electricity in the light, poor in the dark. Some one had, therefore, +flashed a light on one of the cells in the Corporation office. It was +the moment for which Kennedy had prepared. + +Seizing the round package and the tubing, he dashed out on the street +and around the corner. He tried the door opening into the Radium +Corporation hallway. It was closed, but unlocked. As it yielded and we +stumbled in, up the old worn wooden stairs of the building, I knew that +there must be some one there. + +A terrific, penetrating, almost stunning odor seemed to permeate the +air even in the hall. + +Kennedy paused at the door of the office, tried it, found it unlocked, +but did not open it. + +"That smell is ethyldichloracetate," he explained. "That was what I +injected into the air cushion of that safe between the two linings. I +suppose my man here used an electric drill. He might have used thermit +or an oxyacetylene blowpipe for all I would care. These fumes would +discourage a cracksman from 'soup' to nuts," he laughed, thoroughly +pleased at the protection modern science had enabled him to devise. + +As we stood an instant by the door, I realized what had happened. We +had captured our man. He was asphyxiated! + +Yet how were we to get to him? Would Craig leave him in there, perhaps +to die? To go in ourselves meant to share his fate, whatever might be +the effect of the drug. + +Kennedy had torn the wrapping off the package. From it he drew a huge +globe with bulging windows of glass in the front and several curious +arrangements on it at other points. To it he fitted the rubber tubing +and a little pump. Then he placed the globe over his head, like a +diver's helmet, and fastened some air-tight rubber arrangement about +his neck and shoulders. + +"Pump, Walter!" he shouted. "This is an oxygen helmet such as is used +in entering mines filled with deadly gases." + +Without another word he was gone into the blackness of the noxious +stifle which filled the Radium Corporation office since the cracksman +had struck the unexpected pocket of rapidly evaporating stuff. + +I pumped furiously. + +Inside I could hear him blundering around. What was he doing? + +He was coming back slowly. Was he, too, overcome? + +As he emerged into the darkness of the hallway where I myself was +almost sickened, I saw that he was dragging with him a limp form. + +A rush of outside air from the street door seemed to clear things a +little. Kennedy tore off the oxygen helmet and dropped down on his +knees beside the figure, working its arms in the most approved manner +of resuscitation. + +"I think we can do it without calling on the pulmotor," he panted. +"Walter, the fumes have cleared away enough now in the outside office. +Open a window--and keep that street door open, too." + +I did so, found the switch and turned on the lights. + +It was Denison himself! + +For many minutes Kennedy worked over him. I bent down, loosened his +collar and shirt, and looked eagerly at his chest for the tell-tale +marks of the radium which I felt sure must be there. There was not even +a discoloration. + +Not a word was said, as Kennedy brought the stupefied little man around. + +Denison, pale, shaken, was leaning back now in a big office chair, +gasping and holding his head. + +Kennedy, before him, reached down into his pocket and handed him the +spinthariscope. + +"You see that?" he demanded. + +Denison looked through the eyepiece. + +"Wh--where did you get so much of it?" he asked, a queer look on his +face. + +"I got that bit of radium from the base of the collar button of Hartley +Haughton," replied Kennedy quietly, "a collar button which some one +intimate with him had substituted for his own, bringing that deadly +radium with only the minutest protection of a thin strip of metal close +to the back of his neck, near the spinal cord and the medulla oblongata +which controls blood pressure. That collar button was worse than the +poisoned rings of the Borgias. And there is more radium in the pretty +gift of a tortoiseshell comb with its paste diamonds which Miss Wallace +wore in her hair. Only a fraction of an inch, not enough to cut off the +deadly alpha rays, protected the wearers of those articles." + +He paused a moment, while surging through my mind came one after +another the explanations of the hitherto inexplicable. Denison seemed +almost to cringe in the chair, weak already from the fumes. + +"Besides," went on Kennedy remorselessly, "when I went in there to drag +you out, I saw the safe open. I looked. There was nothing in those +pretty platinum tubes, as I suspected. European trust--bah! All the +cheap devices of a faker with a confederate in London to send a +cablegram--and another in New York to send a threatening letter." + +Kennedy extended an accusing forefinger at the man cowering before him. + +"This is nothing but a get-rich-quick scheme, Denison. There never was +a milligram of radium in the Poor Little Rich Valley, not a milligram +here in all the carefully kept reports of Miss Wallace--except what was +bought outside by the Corporation with the money it collected from its +dupes. Haughton has been fleeced. Miss Wallace, blinded by her loyalty +to you--you will always find such a faithful girl in such schemes as +yours--has been fooled. + +"And how did you repay it? What was cleverer, you said to yourself, +than to seem to be robbed of what you never had, to blame it on a +bitter rival who never existed? Then to make assurance doubly sure, you +planned to disable, perhaps get rid of the come-on whom you had +trimmed, and the faithful girl whose eyes you had blinded to your +gigantic swindle. + +"Denison," concluded Kennedy, as the man drew back, his very face +convicting him, "Denison, you are the radium robber--robber in another +sense!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE DEAD LINE + + +Maiden Lane, no less than Wall Street, was deeply interested in the +radium case. In fact, it seemed that one case in this section of the +city led to another. + +Naturally, the Star and the other papers made much of the capture of +Denison. Still, I was not prepared for the host of Maiden Lane cases +that followed. Many of them were essentially trivial. But one proved to +be of extreme importance. + +"Professor Kennedy, I have just heard of your radium case, and I--I +feel that I can--trust you." + +There was a note of appeal in the hesitating voice of the tall, heavily +veiled woman whose card had been sent up to us with a nervous "Urgent" +written across its face. + +It was very early in the morning, but our visitor was evidently +completely unnerved by some news which she had just received and which +had sent her posting to see Craig. + +Kennedy met her gaze directly with a look that arrested her involuntary +effort to avoid it again. She must have read in his eyes more than in +his words that she might trust him. + +"I--I have a confession to make," she faltered. + +"Please sit down, Mrs. Moulton," he said simply. "It is my business to +receive confidences--and to keep them." + +She sank into, rather than sat down in, the deep leather rocker beside +his desk, and now for the first time raised her veil. + +Antoinette Moulton was indeed stunning, an exquisite creature with a +wonderful charm of slender youth, brightness of eye and brunette +radiance. + +I knew that she had been on the musical comedy stage and had had a +rapid rise to a star part before her marriage to Lynn Moulton, the +wealthy lawyer, almost twice her age. I knew also that she had given up +the stage, apparently without a regret. Yet there was something strange +about the air of secrecy of her visit. Was there a hint in it of a +disagreement between the Moultons, I wondered, as I waited while +Kennedy reassured her. + +Her distress was so unconcealed that Craig, for the moment, laid aside +his ordinary inquisitorial manner. "Tell me just as much or just as +little as you choose, Mrs. Moulton," he added tactfully. "I will do my +best." + +A look almost of gratitude crossed her face. + +"When we were married," she began again, "my husband gave me a +beautiful diamond necklace. Oh, it must have been worth a hundred +thousand dollars easily. It was splendid. Everyone has heard of it. You +know, Lynn--er--Mr. Moulton, has always been an enthusiastic collector +of jewels." + +She paused again and Kennedy nodded reassuringly. I knew the thought in +his mind. Moulton had collected one gem that was incomparable with all +the hundred thousand dollar necklaces in existence. + +"Several months ago." she went on rapidly, still avoiding his eyes and +forcing the words from her reluctant lips, "I--oh, I needed +money--terribly." + +She had risen and faced him, pressing her daintily gloved hands +together in a little tremble of emotion which was none the less genuine +because she had studied the art of emotion. + +"I took the necklace to a jeweler, Herman Schloss, of Maiden Lane, a +man with whom my husband had often had dealings and whom I thought I +could trust. Under a promise of secrecy he loaned me fifty thousand +dollars on it and had an exact replica in paste made by one of his best +workmen. This morning, just now, Mr. Schloss telephoned me that his +safe had been robbed last night. My necklace is gone!" + +She threw out her hands in a wildly appealing gesture. + +"And if Lynn finds that the necklace in our wall safe is of paste--as +he will find, for he is an expert in diamonds--oh--what shall I do? +Can't you--can't you find my necklace?" + +Kennedy was following her now eagerly. "You were blackmailed out of the +money?" he queried casually, masking his question. + +There was a sudden, impulsive drooping of her mouth, an evasion and +keen wariness in her eyes. "I can't see that that has anything to do +with the robbery," she answered in a low voice. + +"I beg your pardon," corrected Kennedy quickly. "Perhaps not. I'm +sorry. Force of habit, I suppose. You don't know anything more about +the robbery?" + +"N--no, only that it seems impossible that it could have happened in a +place that has the wonderful burglar alarm protection that Mr. Schloss +described to me." + +"You know him pretty well?" + +"Only through this transaction," she replied hastily. "I wish to heaven +I had never heard of him." + +The telephone rang insistently. + +"Mrs. Moulton," said Kennedy, as he returned the receiver to the hook, +"it may interest you to know that the burglar alarm company has just +called me up about the same case. If I had need of an added incentive, +which I hope you will believe I have not, that might furnish it. I will +do my best," he repeated. + +"Thank you--a thousand times," she cried fervently, and, had I been +Craig, I think I should have needed no more thanks than the look she +gave him as he accompanied her to the door of our apartment. + +It was still early and the eager crowds were pushing their way to +business through the narrow network of downtown streets as Kennedy and +I entered a large office on lower Broadway in the heart of the jewelry +trade and financial district. + +"One of the most amazing robberies that has ever been attempted has +been reported to us this morning," announced James McLear, manager of +the Hale Electric Protection, adding with a look half of anxiety, half +of skepticism, "that is, if it is true." + +McLear was a stocky man, of powerful build and voice and a general +appearance of having been once well connected with the city detective +force before an attractive offer had taken him into this position of +great responsibility. + +"Herman Schloss, one of the best known of Maiden Lane jewelers," he +continued, "has been robbed of goods worth two or three hundred +thousand dollars--and in spite of every modern protection. So that you +will get it clearly, let me show you what we do here." + +He ushered us into a large room, on the walls of which were hundreds of +little indicators. From the front they looked like rows of little +square compartments, tier on tier, about the size of ordinary post +office boxes. Closer examination showed that each was equipped with a +delicate needle arranged to oscillate backward and forward upon the +very minutest interference with the electric current. Under the boxes, +each of which bore a number, was a series of drops and buzzers numbered +to correspond with the boxes. + +"In nearly every office in Maiden Lane where gems and valuable jewelry +are stored," explained McLear, "this electrical system of ours is +installed. When the safes are closed at night and the doors swung +together, a current of electricity is constantly shooting around the +safes, conducted by cleverly concealed wires. These wires are picked up +by a cable system which finds its way to this central office. Once +here, the wires are safeguarded in such manner that foreign currents +from other wires or from lightning cannot disturb the system." + +We looked with intense interest at this huge electrical pulse that felt +every change over so vast and rich an area. + +"Passing a big dividing board," he went on, "they are distributed and +connected each in its place to the delicate tangent galvanometers and +sensitive indicators you see in this room. These instantly announce the +most minute change in the working of the current, and each office has a +distinct separate metallic circuit. Why, even a hole as small as a lead +pencil in anything protected would sound the alarm here." + +Kennedy nodded appreciatively. + +"You see," continued McLear, glad to be able to talk to one who +followed him so closely, "it is another evidence of science finding for +us greater security in the use of a tiny electric wire than in massive +walls of steel and intricate lock devices. But here is a case in which, +it seems, every known protection has failed. We can't afford to pass +that by. If we have fallen down we want to know how, as well as to +catch the burglar." + +"How are the signals given?" I asked. + +"Well, when the day's business is over, for instance, Schloss would +swing the heavy safe doors together and over them place the doors of a +wooden cabinet. That signals an alarm to us here. We answer it and if +the proper signal is returned, all right. After that no one can tamper +with the safe later in the night without sounding an alarm that would +bring a quick investigation." + +"But suppose that it became necessary to open the safe before the next +morning. Might not some trusted employee return to the office, open it, +give the proper signals and loot the safe?" + +"No indeed," he answered confidently. "The very moment anyone touches +the cabinet, the alarm is sounded. Even if the proper code signal is +returned, it is not sufficient. A couple of our trusted men from the +central office hustle around there anyhow and they don't leave until +they are satisfied that everything is right. We have the authorized +signatures on hand of those who are supposed to open the safe and a +duplicate of one of them must be given or there is an arrest." + +McLear considered for a moment. + +"For instance, Schloss, like all the rest, was assigned a box in which +was deposited a sealed envelope containing a key to the office and his +own signature, in this case, since he alone knew the combination. Now, +when an alarm is sounded, as it was last night, and the key removed to +gain entrance to the office, a record is made and the key has to be +sealed up again by Schloss. A report is also submitted showing when the +signals are received and anything else that is worth recording. Last +night our men found nothing wrong, apparently. But this morning we +learn of the robbery." + +"The point is, then," ruminated Kennedy, "what happened in the interval +between the ringing of the alarm and the arrival of the special +officers? I think I'll drop around and look Schloss' place over," he +added quietly, evidently eager to begin at the actual scene of the +crime. + +On the door of the office to which McLear took us was one of those +small blue plates which chance visitors to Maiden Lane must have seen +often. To the initiated--be he crook or jeweler--this simple sign means +that the merchant is a member of the Jewelers' Security Alliance, +enough in itself, it would seem, to make the boldest burglar hesitate. +For it is the motto of this organization to "get" the thief at any cost +and at any time. Still, it had not deterred the burglar in this +instance. + +"I know people are going to think it is a fake burglary," exclaimed +Schloss, a stout, prosperous-looking gem broker, as we introduced +ourselves. "But over two hundred thousands dollars' worth of stones are +gone," he half groaned. "Think of it, man," he added, "one of the +greatest robberies since the Dead Line was established. And if they can +get away with it, why, no one down here is protected any more. Half a +billion dollars in jewels in Maiden Lane and John Street are easy prey +for the cracksmen!" + +Staggering though the loss must have been to him, he had apparently +recovered from the first shock of the discovery and had begun the fight +to get back what had been lost. + +It was, as McLear had intimated, a most amazing burglary, too. The door +of Schloss' safe was open when Kennedy and I arrived and found the +excited jeweler nervously pacing the office. Surrounding the safe, I +noticed a wooden framework constructed in such a way as to be a part of +the decorative scheme of the office. + +Schloss banged the heavy doors shut. + +"There, that's just how it was--shut as tight as a drum. There was +absolutely no mark of anyone tampering with the combination lock. And +yet the safe was looted!" + +"How did you discover it?" asked Craig. "I presume you carry burglary +insurance?" + +Schloss looked up quickly. "That's what I expected as a first question. +No, I carried very little insurance. You see, I thought the safe, one +of those new chrome steel affairs, was about impregnable. I never lost +a moment's sleep over it; didn't think it possible for anyone to get +into it. For, as you see, it is completely wired by the Hale Electric +Protection--that wooden framework about it. No one could touch that +when it was set without jangling a bell at the central office which +would send men scurrying here to protect the place." + +"But they must have got past it," suggested Kennedy. + +"Yes--they must have. At least this morning I received the regular Hale +report. It said that their wires registered last night as though some +one was tampering with the safe. But by the time they got around, in +less than five minutes, there was no one here, nothing seemed to be +disturbed. So they set it down to induction or electrolysis, or +something the matter with the wires. I got the report the first thing +when I arrived here with my assistant, Muller." + +Kennedy was on his knees, going over the safe with a fine brush and +some powder, looking now and then through a small magnifying glass. + +"Not a finger print," he muttered. "The cracksman must have worn +gloves. But how did he get in? There isn't a mark of 'soup' having been +used to blow it up, nor of a 'can-opener' to rip it open, if that were +possible, nor of an electric or any other kind of drill." + +"I've read of those fellows who burn their way in," said Schloss. + +"But there is no hole," objected Kennedy, "not a trace of the use of +thermit to burn the way in or of the oxyacetylene blowpipe to cut a +piece out. Most extraordinary," he murmured. + +"You see," shrugged Schloss, "everyone will say it must have been +opened by one who knew the combination. But I am the only one. I have +never written it down or told anyone, not even Muller. You understand +what I am up against?" + +"There's the touch system," I suggested. "You remember, Craig, the old +fellow who used to file his finger tips to the quick until they were so +sensitive that he could actually feel when he had turned the +combination to the right plunger? Might not that explain the lack of +finger prints also?" I added eagerly. + +"Nothing like that in this case, Walter," objected Craig positively. +"This fellow wore gloves, all right. No, this safe has been opened and +looted by no ordinarily known method. It's the most amazing case I ever +saw in that respect--almost as if we had a cracksman in the fourth +dimension to whom the inside of a closed cube is as accessible as is +the inside of a plane square to us three dimensional creatures. It is +almost incomprehensible." + +I fancied I saw Schloss' face brighten as Kennedy took this view. So +far, evidently, he had run across only skepticism. + +"The stones were unset?" resumed Craig. + +"Mostly. Not all." + +"You would recognize some of them if you saw them?" + +"Yes indeed. Some could be changed only by re-cutting. Even some of +those that were set were of odd cut and size--some from a diamond +necklace which belonged to a--" + +There was something peculiar in both his tone and manner as he cut +short the words. + +"To whom?" asked Kennedy casually. + +"Oh, once to a well-known woman in society," he said carefully. "It is +mine, though, now--at least it was mine. I should prefer to mention no +names. I will give a description of the stones." + +"Mrs. Lynn Moulton, for instance?" suggested Craig quietly. + +Schloss jumped almost as if a burglar alarm had sounded under his very +ears. "How did you know? Yes--but it was a secret. I made a large loan +on it, and the time has expired." + +"Why did she need money so badly?" asked Kennedy. + +"How should I know?" demanded Schloss. + +Here was a deepening mystery, not to be elucidated by continuing this +line of inquiry with Schloss, it seemed. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THE PASTE REPLICA + + +Carefully Craig was going over the office. Outside of the safe, there +had apparently been nothing of value. The rest of the office was not +even wired, and it seemed to have been Schloss' idea that the few +thousands of burglary insurance amply protected him against such loss. +As for the safe, its own strength and the careful wiring might well +have been considered quite sufficient under any hitherto to-be-foreseen +circumstances. + +A glass door, around the bend of a partition, opened from the hallway +into the office and had apparently been designed with the object of +making visible the safe so that anyone passing might see whether an +intruder was tampering with it. + +Kennedy had examined the door, perhaps in the expectation of finding +finger prints there, and was passing on to other things, when a change +in his position caused his eye to catch a large oval smudge on the +glass, which was visible when the light struck it at the right angle. +Quickly he dusted it over with the powder, and brought out the detail +more clearly. As I examined it, while Craig made preparations to cut +out the glass to preserve it, it seemed to contain a number of minute +points and several more or less broken parallel lines. The edges +gradually trailed off into an indistinct faintness. + +Business, naturally, was at a standstill, and as we were working near +the door, we could see that the news of Schloss' strange robbery had +leaked out and was spreading rapidly. Scores of acquaintances in the +trade stopped at the door to inquire about the rumor. + +To each, it seemed that Morris Muller, the working jeweler employed by +Schloss, repeated the same story. + +"Oh," he said, "it is a big loss--yes--but big as it is, it will not +break Mr. Schloss. And," he would add with the tradesman's idea of +humor, "I guess he has enough to play a game of poker--eh?" + +"Poker?" asked Kennedy smiling. "Is he much of a player?" + +"Yes. Nearly every night with his friends he plays." + +Kennedy made a mental note of it. Evidently Schloss trusted Muller +implicitly. He seemed like a partner, rather than an employee, even +though he had not been entrusted with the secret combination. + +Outside, we ran into city detective Lieutenant Winters, the officer who +was stationed at the Maiden Lane post, guarding that famous section of +the Dead Line established by the immortal Byrnes at Fulton Street, +below which no crook was supposed to dare even to be seen. Winters had +been detailed on the case. + +"You have seen the safe in there?" asked Kennedy, as he was leaving to +carry on his investigation elsewhere. + +Winters seemed to be quite as skeptical as Schloss had intimated the +public would be. "Yes," he replied, "there's been an epidemic of +robbery with the dull times--people who want to collect their burglary +insurance, I guess." + +"But," objected Kennedy, "Schloss carried so little." + +"Well, there was the Hale Protection. How about that?" + +Craig looked up quickly, unruffled by the patronizing air of the +professional toward the amateur detective. + +"What is your theory?" he asked. "Do you think he robbed himself?" + +Winters shrugged his shoulders. "I've been interested in Schloss for +some time," he said enigmatically. "He has had some pretty swell +customers. I'll keep you wised up, if anything happens," he added in a +burst of graciousness, walking off. + +On the way to the subway, we paused again to see McLear. + +"Well," he asked, "what do you think of it, now?" + +"All most extraordinary," ruminated Craig. "And the queerest feature of +all is that the chief loss consists of a diamond necklace that belonged +once to Mrs. Antoinette Moulton." + +"Mrs. Lynn Moulton?" repeated McLear. + +"The same," assured Kennedy. + +McLear appeared somewhat puzzled. "Her husband is one of our old +subscribers," he pursued. "He is a lawyer on Wall Street and quite a +gem collector. Last night his safe was tampered with, but this morning +he reports no loss. Not half an hour ago he had us on the wire +congratulating us on scaring off the burglars, if there had been any." + +"What is your opinion," I asked. "Is there a gang operating?" + +"My belief is," he answered, reminiscently of his days on the detective +force, "that none of the loot will be recovered until they start to +'fence' it. That would be my lay--to look for the fence. Why, think of +all the big robberies that have been pulled off lately. Remember," he +went on, "the spoils of a burglary consist generally of precious +stones. They are not currency. They must be turned into currency--or +what's the use of robbery? + +"But merely to offer them for sale at an ordinary jeweler's would be +suspicious. Even pawnbrokers are on the watch. You see what I am +driving at? I think there is a man or a group of men whose business it +is to pay cash for stolen property and who have ways of returning gems +into the regular trade channels. In all these robberies we get a +glimpse of as dark and mysterious a criminal as has ever been recorded. +He may be--anybody. About his legitimacy, I believe, no question has +ever been raised. And, I tell you, his arrest is going to create a +greater sensation than even the remarkable series of robberies that he +has planned or made possible. The question is, to my mind, who is this +fence?" + +McLear's telephone rang and he handed the instrument to Craig. + +"Yes, this is Professor Kennedy," answered Craig. "Oh, too bad you've +had to try all over to get me. I've been going from one place to +another gathering clues and have made good progress, considering I've +hardly started. Why--what's the matter? Really?" + +An interval followed, during which McLear left to answer a personal +call on another wire. + +As Kennedy hung up the receiver, his face wore a peculiar look. "It was +Mrs. Moulton," he blurted out. "She thinks that her husband has found +out that the necklace is paste." + +"How?" I asked. + +"The paste replica is gone from her wall safe in the Deluxe." + +I turned, startled at the information. Even Kennedy himself was +perplexed at the sudden succession of events. I had nothing to say. + +Evidently, however, his rule was when in doubt play a trump, for, +twenty minutes later found us in the office of Lynn Moulton, the famous +corporation lawyer, in Wall Street. + +Moulton was a handsome man of past fifty with a youthful face against +his iron gray hair and mustache, well dressed, genial, a man who seemed +keenly in love with the good things of life. + +"It is rumored," began Kennedy, "that an attempt was made on your safe +here at the office last night." + +"Yes," he admitted, taking off his glasses and polishing them +carefully. "I suppose there is no need of concealment, especially as I +hear that a somewhat similar attempt was made on the safe of my friend +Herman Schloss in Maiden Lane." + +"You lost nothing?" + +Moulton put his glasses on and looked Kennedy in the face frankly. + +"Nothing, fortunately," he said, then went on slowly. "You see, in my +later years, I have been something of a collector of precious stones +myself. I don't wear them, but I have always taken the keenest pleasure +in owning them and when I was married it gave me a great deal more +pleasure to have them set in rings, pendants, tiaras, necklaces, and +other forms for my wife." + +He had risen, with the air of a busy man who had given the subject all +the consideration he could afford and whose work proceeded almost by +schedule. "This morning I found my safe tampered with, but, as I said, +fortunately something must have scared off the burglars." + +He bowed us out politely. What was the explanation, I wondered. It +seemed, on the face of things, that Antoinette Moulton feared her +husband. Did he know something else already, and did she know he knew? +To all appearances he took it very calmly, if he did know. Perhaps that +was what she feared, his very calmness. + +"I must see Mrs. Moulton again," remarked Kennedy, as we left. + +The Moultons lived, we found, in one of the largest suites of a new +apartment hotel, the Deluxe, and in spite of the fact that our arrival +had been announced some minutes before we saw Mrs. Moulton, it was +evident that she had been crying hysterically over the loss of the +paste jewels and what it implied. + +"I missed it this morning, after my return from seeing you," she +replied in answer to Craig's inquiry, then added, wide-eyed with alarm, +"What shall I do? He must have opened the wall safe and found the +replica. I don't dare ask him point-blank." + +"Are you sure he did it?" asked Kennedy, more, I felt, for its moral +effect on her than through any doubt in his own mind. + +"Not sure. But then the wall safe shows no marks, and the replica is +gone." + +"Might I see your jewel case?" he asked. + +"Surely. I'll get it. The wall safe is in Lynn's room. I shall probably +have to fuss a long time with the combination." + +In fact she could not have been very familiar with it for it took +several minutes before she returned. Meanwhile, Kennedy, who had been +drumming absently on the arms of his chair, suddenly rose and walked +quietly over to a scrap basket that stood beside an escritoire. It had +evidently just been emptied, for the rooms must have been cleaned +several hours before. He bent down over it and picked up two scraps of +paper adhering to the wicker work. The rest had evidently been thrown +away. + +I bent over to read them. One was: + + --rest Nettie-- + --dying to see-- + +The other read: + + --cherche to-d + --love and ma + --rman. + +What did it mean? Hastily, I could fill in "Dearest Nettie," and "I am +dying to see you." Kennedy added, "The Recherche to-day," that being +the name of a new apartment uptown, as well as "love and many kisses." +But "--rman"--what did that mean? Could it be Herman--Herman Schloss? + +She was returning and we resumed our seats quickly. + +Kennedy took the jewel case from her and examined it carefully. There +was not a mark on it. + +"Mrs. Moulton," he said slowly, rising and handing it back to her, +"have you told me all?" + +"Why--yes," she answered. + +Kennedy shook his head gravely. + +"I'm afraid not. You must tell me everything." + +"No--no," she cried vehemently, "there is nothing more." + +We left and outside the Deluxe he paused, looked about, caught sight of +a taxicab and hailed it. + +"Where?" asked the driver. + +"Across the street," he said, "and wait. Put the window in back of you +down so I can talk. I'll tell you where to go presently. Now, Walter, +sit back as far as you can. This may seem like an underhand thing to +do, but we've got to get what that woman won't tell us or give up the +case." + +Perhaps half an hour we waited, still puzzling over the scraps of +paper. Suddenly I felt a nudge from Kennedy. Antoinette Moulton was +standing in the doorway across the street. Evidently she preferred not +to ride in her own car, for a moment later she entered a taxicab. + +"Follow that black cab," said Kennedy to our driver. + +Sure enough, it stopped in front of the Recherche Apartments and Mrs. +Moulton stepped out and almost ran in. + +We waited a moment, then Kennedy followed. The elevator that had taken +her up had just returned to the ground floor. + +"The same floor again," remarked Kennedy, jauntily stepping in and +nodding familiarly to the elevator boy. + +Then he paused suddenly, looked at his watch, fixed his gaze +thoughtfully on me an instant, and exclaimed. "By George--no. I can't +go up yet. I clean forgot that engagement at the hotel. One moment, +son. Let us out. We'll be back again." + +Considerably mystified, I followed him to the sidewalk. + +"You're entitled to an explanation," he laughed catching my bewildered +look as he opened the cab door. "I didn't want to go up now while she +is there, but I wanted to get on good terms with that boy. We'll wait +until she comes down, then go up." + +"Where?" I asked. + +"That's what I am going through all this elaborate preparation to find +out. I have no more idea than you have." + +It could not have been more than twenty minutes later when Mrs. Moulton +emerged rather hurriedly, and drove away. + +While we had been waiting I had observed a man on the other side of the +street who seemed unduly interested in the Recherche, too, for he had +walked up and down the block no less than six times. Kennedy saw him, +and as he made no effort to follow Mrs. Moulton, Kennedy did not do so +either. In fact a little quick glance which she had given at our cab +had raised a fear that she might have discovered that she was being +followed. + +Kennedy and I paid off our cabman and sauntered into the Recherche in +the most debonair manner we could assume. + +"Now, son, we'll go up," he said to the boy who, remembering us, and +now not at all clear in his mind that he might not have seen us before +that, whisked us to the tenth floor. + +"Let me see," said Kennedy, "it's number one hundred and--er---" + +"Three," prompted the boy. + +He pressed the buzzer and a neatly dressed colored maid responded. + +"I had an appointment here with Mrs. Moulton this morning," remarked +Kennedy. + +"She has just gone," replied the maid, off her guard. + +"And was to meet Mr. Schloss here in half an hour," he added quickly. + +It was the maid's turn to look surprised. + +"I didn't think he was to be here," she said. "He's had some--" + +"Trouble at the office," supplied Kennedy. "That's what it was about. +Perhaps he hasn't been able to get away yet. But I had the appointment. +Ah, I see a telephone in the hall. May I?" + +He had stepped politely in, and by dint of cleverly keeping his finger +on the hook in the half light, he carried on a one-sided conversation +with himself long enough to get a good chance to look about. + +There was an air of quiet and refinement about the apartment in the +Recherche. It was darkened to give the little glowing electric bulbs in +their silken shades a full chance to simulate right. The deep velvety +carpets were noiseless to the foot, and the draperies, the pictures, +the bronzes, all bespoke taste. + +But the chief objects of interest to Craig were the little square green +baize-covered tables on one of which lay neatly stacked a pile of +gilt-edged cards and a mahogany box full of ivory chips of red, white +and blue. + +It was none of the old-time gambling places, like Danfield's, with its +steel door which Craig had once cut through with an oxyacetylene +blowpipe in order to rescue a young spendthrift from himself. + +Kennedy seemed perfectly well satisfied merely with a cursory view of +the place, as he hung up the receiver and thanked the maid politely for +allowing him to use it. + +"This is up-to-date gambling in cleaned-up New York," he remarked as we +waited for the elevator to return for us. "And the worst of it all is +that it gets the women as well as the men. Once they are caught in the +net, they are the most powerful lure to men that the gamblers have yet +devised." + +We rode down in silence, and as we went down the steps to the street, I +noticed the man whom we had seen watching the place, lurking down at +the lower corner. Kennedy quickened his pace and came up behind him. + +"Why, Winters!" exclaimed Craig. "You here?" + +"I might say the same to you," grinned the detective not displeased +evidently that our trail had crossed his. "I suppose you are looking +for Schloss, too. He's up in the Recherche a great deal, playing poker. +I understand he owns an interest in the game up there." + +Kennedy nodded, but said nothing. + +"I just saw one of the cappers for the place go out before you went in." + +"Capper?" repeated Kennedy surprised. "Antoinette Moulton a steerer for +a gambling joint? What can a rich society woman have to do with a place +like that or a man like Schloss?" + +Winters smiled sardonically. "Society ladies to-day often get into +scrapes of which their husbands know nothing," he remarked. "You didn't +know before that Antoinette Moulton, like many of her friends in the +smart set, was a gambler--and loser--did you?" + +Craig shook his head. He had more of human than scientific interest in +a case of a woman of her caliber gone wrong. + +"But you must have read of the famous Moulton diamonds?" + +"Yes," said Craig, blankly, as if it were all news to him. + +"Schloss has them--or at least had them. The jewels she wore at the +opera this winter were paste, I understand." + +"Does Moulton play?" he asked. + +"I think so--but not here, naturally. In a way, I suppose, it is his +fault. They all do it. The example of one drives on another." + +Instantly there flashed over my mind a host of possibilities. Perhaps, +after all, Winters had been right. Schloss had taken this way to make +sure of the jewels so that she could not redeem them. Suddenly another +explanation crowded that out. Had Mrs. Moulton robbed the safe herself, +or hired some one else to do it for her, and had that person gone back +on her? + +Then a horrid possibility occurred to me. Whatever Antoinette Moulton +may have been and done, some one must have her in his power. What a +situation for the woman! My sympathy went out to her in her supreme +struggle. Even if it had been a real robbery, Schloss might easily +recover from it. But for her every event spelled ruin and seemed only +to be bringing that ruin closer. + +We left Winters, still watching on the trail of Schloss, and went on +uptown to the laboratory. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE BURGLAR'S MICROPHONE + + +That night I was sitting, brooding over the case, while Craig was +studying a photograph which he made of the smudge on the glass door +down at Schloss'. He paused in his scrutiny of the print to answer the +telephone. + +"Something has happened to Schloss," he exclaimed seizing his hat and +coat. "Winters has been watching him. He didn't go to the Recherche. +Winters wants me to meet him at a place several blocks below it Come +on. He wouldn't say over the wire what it was. Hurry." + +We met Winters in less than ten minutes at the address he had given, a +bachelor apartment in the neighborhood of the Recherche. + +"Schloss kept rooms here," explained Winters, hurrying us quickly +upstairs. "I wanted you to see before anyone else." + +As we entered the large and luxuriously furnished living room of the +jeweler's suite, a gruesome sight greeted us. + +There lay Schloss on the floor, face down, in a horribly contorted +position. In one hand, clenched under him partly, the torn sleeve of a +woman's dress was grasped convulsively. The room bore unmistakable +traces of a violent struggle, but except for the hideous object on the +floor was vacant. + +Kennedy bent down over him. Schloss was dead. In a corner, by the door, +stood a pile of grips, stacked up, packed, and undisturbed. + +Winters who had been studying the room while we got our bearings picked +up a queer-looking revolver from the floor. As he held it up I could +see that along the top of the barrel was a long cylinder with a ratchet +or catch at the butt end. He turned it over and over carefully. + +"By George," he muttered, "it has been fired off." + +Kennedy glanced more minutely at the body. There was not a mark on it. +I stared about vacantly at the place where Winters had picked the thing +up. + +"Look," I cried, my eye catching a little hole in the baseboard of the +woodwork near it. + +"It must have fallen and exploded on the floor," remarked Kennedy. "Let +me see it, Winters." + +Craig held it at arm's length and pulled the catch. Instead of an +explosion, there came a cone of light from the top of the gun. As +Kennedy moved it over the wall, I saw in the center of the circle of +light a dark spot. + +"A new invention," Craig explained. "All you need to do is to move it +so that little dark spot falls directly on an object. Pull the +trigger--the bullet strikes the dark spot. Even a nervous and unskilled +marksman becomes a good shot in the dark. He can even shoot from behind +the protection of something--and hit accurately." + +It was too much for me. I could only stand and watch Kennedy as he +deftly bent over Schloss again and placed a piece of chemically +prepared paper flat on the forehead of the dead man. + +When he withdrew it, I could see that it bore marks of the lines on his +head. Without a word, Kennedy drew from his pocket a print of the +photograph of the smudge on Schloss' door. + +"It is possible," he said, half to himself, "to identify a person by +means of the arrangement of the sweat glands or pores. Poroscopy, Dr. +Edmond Locard, director of the Police Laboratory at Lyons, calls it. +The shape, arrangement, number per square centimeter, all vary in +different individuals. Besides, here we have added the lines of the +forehead." + +He was studying the two impressions intensely. When he looked up from +his examination, his face wore a peculiar expression. + +"This is not the head which was placed so close to the glass of the +door of Schloss' office, peering through, on the night of the robbery, +in order to see before picking the lock whether the office was empty +and everything ready for the hasty attack on the safe." + +"That disposes of my theory that Schloss robbed himself," remarked +Winters reluctantly. "But the struggle here, the sleeve of the dress, +the pistol--could he have been shot?" + +"No, I think not," considered Kennedy. "It looks to me more like a case +of apoplexy." + +"What shall we do?" asked Winters. "Far from clearing anything up, this +complicates it." + +"Where's Muller?" asked Kennedy. "Does he know? Perhaps he can shed +some light on it." + +The clang of an ambulance bell outside told that the aid summoned by +Winters had arrived. + +We left the body in charge of the surgeon and of a policeman who +arrived about the same time, and followed Winters. + +Muller lived in a cheap boarding house in a shabbily respectable street +downtown, and without announcing ourselves we climbed the stairs to his +room. He looked up surprised but not disconcerted as we entered. + +"What's the matter?" he asked. + +"Muller," shot out Winters, "we have just found Mr. Schloss dead!" + +"D-dead!" he stammered. + +The man seemed speechless with horror. + +"Yes, and with his grips packed as if to run away." + +Muller looked dazedly from one of us to the other, but shut up like a +clam. + +"I think you had better come along with us as a material witness," +burst out Winters roughly. + +Kennedy said nothing, leaving that sort of third degree work to the +detective. But he was not idle, as Winters tried to extract more than +the monosyllables, "I don't know," in answer to every inquiry of Muller +about his employer's life and business. + +A low exclamation from Craig attracted my attention from Winters. In a +corner he had discovered a small box and had opened it. Inside was a +dry battery and a most peculiar instrument, something like a little +flat telephone transmitter yet attached by wires to earpieces that +fitted over the head after the manner of those of a wireless detector. + +"What's this?" asked Kennedy, dangling it before Muller. + +He looked at it phlegmatically. "A deaf instrument I have been working +on," replied the jeweler. "My hearing is getting poor." + +Kennedy looked hastily from the instrument to the man. + +"I think I'll take it along with us," he said quietly. + +Winters, true to his instincts, had been searching Muller in the +meantime. Besides the various assortment that a man carries in his +pockets usually, including pens, pencils, notebooks, a watch, a +handkerchief, a bunch of keys, one of which was large enough to open a +castle, there was a bunch of blank and unissued pawn-tickets bearing +the name, "Stein's One Per Cent. a Month Loans," and an address on the +Bowery. + +Was Muller the "fence" we were seeking, or only a tool for the "fence" +higher up? Who was this Stein? + +What it all meant I could only guess. It was a far cry from the wealth +of Diamond Lane to a dingy Bowery pawnshop, even though pawnbroking at +one per cent. a month--and more, on the side--pays. I knew, too, that +diamonds are hoarded on the East Side as nowhere else in the world, +outside of India. It was no uncommon thing, I had heard, for a +pawnbroker whose shop seemed dirty and greasy to the casual visitor to +have stored away in his vault gems running into the hundreds of +thousands of dollars. + +"Mrs. Moulton must know of this," remarked Kennedy. "Winters, you and +Jameson bring Muller along. I am going up to the Deluxe." + +I must say that I was surprised at finding Mrs. Moulton there. Outside +the suite Winters and I waited with the unresisting Muller, while +Kennedy entered. But through the door which he left ajar I could hear +what passed. + +"Mrs. Moulton," he began, "something terrible has happened--" + +He broke off, and I gathered that her pale face and agitated manner +told him that she knew already. + +"Where is Mr. Moulton?" he went on, changing his question. + +"Mr. Moulton is at his office," she answered tremulously. "He +telephoned while I was out that he had to work to-night. Oh, Mr. +Kennedy--he knows--he knows. I know it. He has avoided me ever since I +missed the replica from-" + +"Sh!" cautioned Craig. He had risen and gone to the door. + +"Winters," he whispered, "I want you to go down to Lynn Moulton's +office. Meanwhile Jameson can take care of Muller. I am going over to +that place of Stein's presently. Bring Moulton up there. You will wait +here, Walter, for the present," he nodded. + +He returned to the room where I could hear her crying softly. + +"Now, Mrs. Moulton," he said gently, "I'm afraid I must trouble you to +go with me. I am going over to a pawnbroker's on the Bowery." + +"The Bowery?" she repeated, with a genuinely surprised shudder. "Oh, +no, Mr. Kennedy. Don't ask me to go anywhere to-night. I am--I am in no +condition to go anywhere--to do anything--I--" + +"But you must," said Kennedy in a low voice. + +"I can't. Oh--have mercy on me. I am terribly upset. You--" + +"It is your duty to go, Mrs. Moulton," he repeated. + +"I don't understand." she murmured. "A pawnbroker's?" + +"Come," urged Kennedy, not harshly but firmly, then, as she held back, +added, playing a trump card, "We must work quickly. In his hands we +found the fragments of a torn dress. When the police--" + +She uttered a shriek. A glance had told her, if she had deceived +herself before, that Kennedy knew her secret. + +Antoinette Moulton was standing before him, talking rapidly. + +"Some one has told Lynn. I know it. There is nothing now that I can +conceal. If you had come half an hour later you would not have found +me. He had written to Mr. Schloss, threatening him that if he did not +leave the country he would shoot him at sight. Mr. Schloss showed me +the letter. + +"It had come to this. I must either elope with Schloss, or lose his +aid. The thought of either was unendurable. I hated him--yet was +dependent on him. + +"To-night I met him, in his empty apartment, alone. I knew that he had +what was left of his money with him, that everything was packed up. I +went prepared. I would not elope. My plan was no less than to make him +pay the balance on the necklace that he had lost--or to murder him. + +"I carried a new pistol in my muff, one which Lynn had just bought. I +don't know how I did it. I was desperate. + +"He told me he loved me, that Lynn did not, never had--that Lynn had +married me only to show off his wealth and diamonds, to give him a +social! position--that I was merely a--a piece of property--a dummy. + +"He tried to kiss me. It was revolting. I struggled away from him. + +"And in the struggle, the revolver fell from my muff and exploded on +the floor. + +"At once he was aflame with suspicion. + +"'So--it's murder you want!' he shouted. 'Well, murder it shall be!' + +"I saw death in his eye as he seized my arm. I was defenseless now. The +old passion came over him. Before he killed--he--would have his way +with me. + +"I screamed. With a wild effort I twisted away from him. + +"He raised his hand to strike me, I saw his eyes, glassy. Then he sank +back--fell to the floor--dead of apoplexy--dead of his furious emotions. + +"I fled. + +"And now you have found me." + +She had turned, hastily, to leave the room. Kennedy blocked the door. + +"Mrs. Moulton," he said firmly, "listen to me. What was the first +question you asked me? 'Can I trust you?' And I told you you could. +This is no time for--for suicide." He shot the word out bluntly. "All +may not be lost. I have sent for your husband. Muller is outside." + +"Muller?" she cried. "He made the replica." + +"Very well. I am going to clear this thing up. Come. You MUST." + +It was all confused to me, the dash in a car to the little pawnbroker's +on the first floor of a five-story tenement, the quick entry into the +place by one of Muller's keys. + +Over the safe in back was a framework like that which had covered +Schloss' safe. Kennedy tore it away, regardless of the alarm which it +must have sounded. In a moment he was down before it on his knees. + +"This is how Schloss' safe was opened so quickly," he muttered, working +feverishly. "Here is some of their own medicine." + +He had placed the peculiar telephone-like transmitter close to the +combination lock and was turning the combination rapidly. + +Suddenly he rose, gave the bolts a twist, and the ponderous doors swung +open. + +"What is it?" I asked eagerly. + +"A burglar's microphone," he answered, hastily looking over the +contents of the safe. "The microphone is now used by burglars for +picking combination locks. When you turn the lock, a slight sound is +made when the proper number comes opposite the working point. It can be +heard sometimes by a sensitive ear, although it is imperceptible to +most persons. But by using a microphone it is an easy matter to hear +the sounds which allow of opening the lock." + +He had taken a yellow chamois bag out of the safe and opened it. + +Inside sparkled the famous Moulton diamonds. He held them up--in all +their wicked brilliancy. No one spoke. + +Then he took another yellow bag, more dirty and worn than the first. As +he opened it, Mrs. Moulton could restrain herself no longer. + +"The replica!" she cried. "The replica!" + +Without a word, Craig handed the real necklace to her. Then he slipped +the paste jewels into the newer of the bags and restored both it and +the empty one to their places, banged shut the door of the safe, and +replaced the wooden screen. + +"Quick!" he said to her, "you have still a minute to get away. +Hurry--anywhere--away--only away!" + +The look of gratitude that came over her face, as she understood the +full meaning of it was such as I had never seen before. + +"Quick!" he repeated. + +It was too late. + +"For God's sake, Kennedy," shouted a voice at the street door, "what +are you doing here?" + +It was McLear himself. He had come with the Hale patrol, on his mettle +now to take care of the epidemic of robberies. + +Before Craig could reply a cab drew up with a rush at the curb and two +men, half fighting, half cursing, catapulted themselves into the shop. + +They were Winters and Moulton. + +Without a word, taking advantage of the first shock of surprise, +Kennedy had clapped a piece of chemical paper on the foreheads of Mrs. +Moulton, then of Moulton, and on Muller's. Oblivious to the rest of us, +he studied the impressions in the full light of the counter. + +Moulton was facing his wife with a scornful curl of the lip. + +"I've been told of the paste replica--and I wrote Schloss that I'd +shoot him down like the dog he is, you--you traitress," he hissed. + +She drew herself up scornfully. + +"And I have been told why you married me--to show off your wicked +jewels and help you in your--" + +"You lie!" he cried fiercely. "Muller--some one--open this +safe--whosever it is. If what I have been told is true, there is in it +one new bag containing the necklace. It was stolen from Schloss to whom +you sold my jewels. The other old bag, stolen from me, contains the +paste replica you had made to deceive me." + +It was all so confused that I do not know how it happened. I think it +was Muller who opened the safe. + +"There is the new yellow bag," cried Moulton, "from Schloss' own safe. +Open it." + +McLear had taken it. He did so. There sparkled not the real gems, but +the replica. + +"The devil!" Moulton exclaimed, breaking from Winters and seizing the +old bag. + +He tore it open and--it was empty. + +"One moment," interrupted Kennedy, looking up quietly from the counter. +"Seal that safe again, McLear. In it are the Schloss jewels and the +products of half a dozen other robberies which the dupe Muller--or +Stein, as you please--pulled off, some as a blind to conceal the real +criminal. You may have shown him how to leave no finger prints, but you +yourself have left what is just as good--your own forehead print. +McLear--you were right. There's your criminal--Lynn Moulton, +professional fence, the brains of the thing." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE GERM LETTER + + +Lynn Moulton made no fight and Kennedy did not pursue the case, for, +with the rescue of Antoinette Moulton, his interest ceased. + +Blackmail takes various forms, and the Moulton affair was only one +phase of it. It was not long before we had to meet a much stranger +attempt. + +"Read the letter, Professor Kennedy. Then I will tell you the sequel." + +Mrs. Hunter Blake lay back in the cushions of her invalid chair in the +sun parlor of the great Blake mansion on Riverside Drive, facing the +Hudson with its continuous reel of maritime life framed against the +green-hilled background of the Jersey shore. + +Her nurse, Miss Dora Sears, gently smoothed out the pillows and +adjusted them so that the invalid could more easily watch us. Mrs. +Blake, wealthy, known as a philanthropist, was not an old woman, but +had been for years a great sufferer from rheumatism. + +I watched Miss Sears eagerly. Full-bosomed, fine of face and figure, +she was something more than a nurse; she was a companion. She had +bright, sparkling black eyes and an expression about her well-cut mouth +which made one want to laugh with her. It seemed to say that the world +was a huge joke and she invited you to enjoy the joke with her. + +Kennedy took the letter which Miss Sears proffered him, and as he did +so I could not help noticing her full, plump forearm on which gleamed a +handsome plain gold bracelet. He spread the letter out on a dainty +wicker table in such a way that we both could see it. + +We had been summoned over the telephone to the Blake mansion by +Reginald Blake, Mrs. Blake's eldest son. Reginald had been very +reticent over the reason, but had seemed very anxious and insistent +that Kennedy should come immediately. + +Craig read quickly and I followed him, fascinated by the letter from +its very opening paragraph. + +"Dear Madam," it began. "Having received my diploma as doctor of +medicine and bacteriology at Heidelberg in 1909, I came to the United +States to study a most serious disease which is prevalent in several of +the western mountain states." + +So far, I reflected, it looked like an ordinary appeal for aid. The +next words, however, were queer: "I have four hundred persons of wealth +on my list. Your name was--" + +Kennedy turned the page. On the next leaf of the letter sheet was +pasted a strip of gelatine. The first page had adhered slightly to the +gelatine. + +"Chosen by fate," went on the sentence ominously. + +"By opening this letter," I read, "you have liberated millions of the +virulent bacteria of this disease. Without a doubt you are infected by +this time, for no human body is impervious to them, and up to the +present only one in one hundred has fully recovered after going through +all its stages." + +I gasped. The gelatine had evidently been arranged so that when the two +sheets were pulled apart, the germs would be thrown into the air about +the person opening the letter. It was a very ingenious device. + +The letter continued, "I am happy to say, however, that I have a +prophylactic which will destroy any number of these germs if used up to +the ninth day. It is necessary only that you should place five thousand +dollars in an envelope and leave it for me to be called for at the desk +of the Prince Henry Hotel. When the messenger delivers the money to me, +the prophylactic will be sent immediately. + +"First of all, take a match and burn this letter to avoid spreading the +disease. Then change your clothes and burn the old ones. Enclosed you +will find in a germ-proof envelope an exact copy of this letter. The +room should then be thoroughly fumigated. Do not come into close +contact with anyone near and dear to you until you have used the +prophylactic. Tell no one. In case you do, the prophylactic will not be +sent under any circumstances. Very truly yours, DR. HANS HOPF." + +"Blackmail!" exclaimed Kennedy, looking intently again at the gelatine +on the second page, as I involuntarily backed away and held my breath. + +"Yes, I know," responded Mrs. Blake anxiously, "but is it true?" + +There could be no doubt from the tone of her voice that she more than +half believed that it was true. + +"I cannot say--yet," replied Craig, still cautiously scanning the +apparently innocent piece of gelatine on the original letter which Mrs. +Blake had not destroyed. "I shall have to keep it and examine it." + +On the gelatine I could see a dark mass which evidently was supposed to +contain the germs. + +"I opened the letter here in this room," she went on. "At first I +thought nothing of it. But this morning, when Buster, my prize +Pekinese, who had been with me, sitting on my lap at the time, and +closer to the letter even than I was, when Buster was taken suddenly +ill, I--well, I began to worry." + +She finished with a little nervous laugh, as people will to hide their +real feelings. + +"I should like to see the dog," remarked Kennedy simply. + +"Miss Sears," asked her mistress, "will you get Buster, please?" + +The nurse left the room. No longer was there the laughing look on her +face. This was serious business. + +A few minutes later she reappeared, carrying gingerly a small dog +basket. Mrs. Blake lifted the lid. Inside was a beautiful little +"Peke," and it was easy to see that Buster was indeed ill. + +"Who is your doctor?" asked Craig, considering. + +"Dr. Rae Wilson, a very well-known woman physician." + +Kennedy nodded recognition of the name. "What does she say?" he asked, +observing the dog narrowly. + +"We haven't told anyone, outside, of it yet," replied Mrs. Blake. "In +fact until Buster fell sick, I thought it was a hoax." + +"You haven't told anyone?" + +"Only Reginald and my daughter Betty. Betty is frantic--not with fear +for herself, but with fear for me. No one can reassure her. In fact it +was as much for her sake as anyone's that I sent for you. Reginald has +tried to trace the thing down himself, but has not succeeded." + +She paused. The door opened and Reginald Blake entered. He was a young +fellow, self confident and no doubt very efficient at the new dances, +though scarcely fitted to rub elbows with a cold world which, outside +of his own immediate circle, knew not the name of Blake. He stood for a +moment regarding us through the smoke of his cigarette. + +"Tell me just what you have done," asked Kennedy of him as his mother +introduced him, although he had done the talking for her over the +telephone. + +"Done?" he drawled. "Why, as soon as mother told me of the letter, I +left an envelope up at the Prince Henry, as it directed." + +"With the money?" put in Craig quickly. + +"Oh, no--just as a decoy." + +"Yes. What happened?" + +"Well, I waited around a long time. It was far along in the day when a +woman appeared at the desk. I had instructed the clerk to be on the +watch for anyone who asked for mail addressed to a Dr. Hopf. The clerk +slammed the register. That was the signal. I moved up closer." + +"What did she look like?" asked Kennedy keenly. + +"I couldn't see her face. But she was beautifully dressed, with a long +light flowing linen duster, a veil that hid her features and on her +hands and arms a long pair of motoring doeskin gloves. By George, she +was a winner--in general looks, though. Well, something about the +clerk, I suppose, must have aroused her suspicions. For, a moment +later, she was gone in the crowd. Evidently she had thought of the +danger and had picked out a time when the lobby would be full and +everybody busy. But she did not leave by the front entrance through +which she entered. I concluded that she must have left by one of the +side street carriage doors." + +"And she got away?" + +"Yes. I found that she asked one of the boys at the door to crank up a +car standing at the curb. She slid into the seat, and was off in a +minute." + +Kennedy said nothing. But I knew that he was making a mighty effort to +restrain comment on the bungling amateur detective work of the son of +our client. + +Reginald saw the look on his face. "Still," he hastened, "I got the +number of the car. It was 200859 New York." + +"You have looked it up?" queried Kennedy quickly. + +"I didn't need to do it. A few minutes later Dr. Rae Wilson herself +came out--storming like mad. Her car had been stolen at the very door +of the hotel by this woman with the innocent aid of the hotel +employees." + +Kennedy was evidently keenly interested. The mention of the stolen car +had apparently at once suggested an idea to him. + +"Mrs. Blake," he said, as he rose to go, "I shall take this letter with +me. Will you see that Buster is sent up to my laboratory immediately?" + +She nodded. It was evident that Buster was a great pet with her and +that it was with difficulty she kept from smoothing his silky coat. + +"You--you won't hurt Buster?" she pleaded. + +"No. Trust me. More than that, if there is any possible way of +untangling this mystery, I shall do it." + +Mrs. Blake looked rather than spoke her thanks. As we went downstairs, +accompanied by Miss Sears, we could see in the music room a very +interesting couple, chatting earnestly over the piano. + +Betty Blake, a slip of a girl in her first season, was dividing her +attention between her visitor and the door by which we were passing. + +She rose as she heard us, leaving the young man standing alone at the +piano. He was of an age perhaps a year or two older than Reginald +Blake. It was evident that, whatever Miss Betty might think, he had +eyes for no one else but the pretty debutante. He even seemed to be +regarding Kennedy sullenly, as if he were a possible rival. + +"You--you don't think it is serious?" whispered Betty in an undertone, +scarcely waiting to be introduced. She had evidently known of our +visit, but had been unable to get away to be present upstairs. + +"Really, Miss Blake," reassured Kennedy, "I can't say. All I can do is +to repeat what I have already said to your mother. Keep up a good heart +and trust me to work it out." + +"Thank you," she murmured, and then, impulsively extending her small +hand to Craig, she added, "Mr. Kennedy, if there is anything I can do +to help you, I beg that you will call on me." + +"I shall not forget," he answered, relinquishing the hand reluctantly. +Then, as she thanked him, and turned again to her guest, he added in a +low tone to me, "A remarkable girl, Walter, a girl that can be depended +on." + +We followed Miss Sears down the hall. + +"Who was that young man in the music room?" asked Kennedy, when we were +out of earshot. + +"Duncan Baldwin," she answered. "A friend and bosom companion of +Reginald." + +"He seems to think more of Betty than of her brother," Craig remarked +dryly. + +Miss Sears smiled. "Sometimes, we think they are secretly engaged," she +returned. We had almost reached the door. "By the way," she asked +anxiously, "do you think there are any precautions that I should take +for Mrs. Blake--and the rest?" + +"Hardly," answered Kennedy, after a moment's consideration, "as long as +you have taken none in particular already. Still, I suppose it will do +no harm to be as antiseptic as possible." + +"I shall try," she promised, her face showing that she considered the +affair now in a much more serious light than she had before our visit. + +"And keep me informed of anything that turns up," added Kennedy handing +her a card with the telephone number of the laboratory. + +As we left the Blake mansion, Kennedy remarked, "We must trace that car +somehow--at least we must get someone working on that." + +Half an hour later we were in a towering office building on Liberty +Street, the home of various kinds of insurance. Kennedy stopped before +a door which bore the name, "Douglas Garwood: Insurance Adjuster." + +Briefly, Craig told the story of the stolen car, omitting the account +of the dastardly method taken to blackmail Mrs. Blake. As he proceeded +a light seemed to break on the face of Garwood, a heavyset man, whose +very gaze was inquisitorial. + +"Yes, the theft has been reported to us already by Dr. Wilson herself," +he interrupted. "The car was insured in a company I represent." + +"I had hoped so," remarked Kennedy, "Do you know the woman?" he added, +watching the insurance adjuster who had been listening intently as he +told about the fair motor car thief. + +"Know her?" repeated Garwood emphatically. "Why, man, we have been so +close to that woman that I feel almost intimate with her. The +descriptions are those of a lady, well-dressed, and with a voice and +manner that would carry her through any of the fashionable hotels, +perhaps into society itself." + +"One of a gang of blackmailers, then," I hazarded. + +Garwood shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps," he acquiesced. "It is +automobile thieving that interests me, though. Why," he went on, rising +excitedly, "the gangs of these thieves are getting away with half a +million dollars' worth of high-priced cars every year. The police seem +to be powerless to stop it. We appeal to them, but with no result. So, +now we have taken things into our own hands." + +"What are you doing in this case?" asked Kennedy. + +"What the insurance companies have to do to recover stolen +automobiles," Garwood replied. "For, with all deference to your friend, +Deputy O'Connor, it is the insurance companies rather than the police +who get stolen cars back." + +He had pulled out a postal card from a pigeon hole in his desk, +selecting it from several apparently similar. We read: + +$250.00 REWARD + +We will pay $100.00 for car, $150.00 additional for information which +will convict the thief. When last seen, driven by a woman, name not +known, who is described as dark-haired, well-dressed, slight, +apparently thirty years old. The car is a Dixon, 1912, seven-passenger, +touring, No. 193,222, license No. 200,859, New York; dark red body, +mohair top, brass lamps, has no wind shield; rear axle brake band +device has extra nut on turnbuckle not painted. Car last seen near +Prince Henry Hotel, New York City, Friday, the 10th. + +Communicate by telegraph or telephone, after notifying nearest police +department, with Douglas Garwood, New York City. "The secret of it is," +explained Garwood, as we finished reading, "that there are innumerable +people who keep their eyes open and like to earn money easily. Thus we +have several hundreds of amateur and enthusiastic detectives watching +all over the city and country for any car that looks suspicious." + +Kennedy thanked him for his courtesy, and we rose to go. "I shall be +glad to keep you informed of anything that turns up," he promised. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE ARTIFICIAL KIDNEY + + +In the laboratory, Kennedy quietly set to work. He began by tearing +from the germ letter the piece of gelatine and first examining it with +a pocket lens. Then, with a sterile platinum wire, he picked out +several minute sections of the black spot on the gelatine and placed +them in agar, blood serum, and other media on which they would be +likely to grow. + +"I shall have to wait until to-morrow to examine them properly," he +remarked. "There are colonies of something there, all right, but I must +have them more fully developed." + +A hurried telephone call late in the day from Miss Sears told us that +Mrs. Blake herself had begun to complain, and that Dr. Wilson had been +summoned but had been unable to give an opinion on the nature of the +malady. + +Kennedy quickly decided on making a visit to the doctor, who lived not +far downtown from the laboratory. + +Dr. Rae Wilson proved to be a nervous little woman, inclined, I felt, +to be dictatorial. I thought that secretly she felt a little piqued at +our having been taken into the Blakes' confidence before herself, and +Kennedy made every effort to smooth that aspect over tactfully. + +"Have you any idea what it can be?" he asked finally. + +She shook her head noncommittally. "I have taken blood smears," she +answered, "but so far haven't been able to discover anything. I shall +have to have her under observation for a day or two before I can answer +that. Still, as Mrs. Blake is so ill, I have ordered another trained +nurse to relieve Miss Sears of the added work, a very efficient nurse, +a Miss Rogers." + +Kennedy had risen to go. "You have had no word about your car?" he +asked casually. + +"None yet. I'm not worrying. It was insured." + +"Who is this arch criminal, Dr. Hopf?" I mused as we retraced our steps +to the laboratory. "Is Mrs. Blake stricken now by the same trouble that +seems to have affected Buster?" + +"Only my examination will show," he said. "I shall let nothing +interfere with that now. It must be the starting point for any work +that I may do in the case." + +We arrived at Kennedy's workshop of scientific crime and he immediately +plunged into work. Looking up he caught sight of me standing helplessly +idle. + +"Walter," he remarked thoughtfully adjusting a microscope, "suppose you +run down and see Garwood. Perhaps he has something to report. And by +the way, while you are out, make inquiries about the Blakes, young +Baldwin, Miss Sears and this Dr. Wilson. I have heard of her before, at +least by name. Perhaps you may find something interesting." + +Glad to have a chance to seem to be doing something whether it amounted +to anything or not, I dropped in to see Garwood. So far he had nothing +to report except the usual number of false alarms. From his office I +went up to the Star where fortunately I found one of the reporters who +wrote society notes. + +The Blakes, I found, as we already knew, to be well known and moving in +the highest social circles. As far as known they had no particular +enemies, other than those common to all people of great wealth. Dr. +Wilson had a large practice, built up in recent years, and was one of +the best known society physicians for women. Miss Sears was unknown, as +far as I could determine. As for Duncan Baldwin, I found that he had +become acquainted with Reginald Blake in college, that he came of no +particular family and seemed to have no great means, although he was +very popular in the best circles. In fact he had had, thanks to his +friend, a rather meteoric rise in society, though it was reported that +he was somewhat involved in debt as a result. + +I returned to the laboratory to find that Craig had taken out of a +cabinet a peculiar looking arrangement. It consisted of thirty-two +tubes, each about sixteen inches long, with S-turns, like a minute +radiator. It was altogether not over a cubic foot in size, and enclosed +in a glass cylinder. There were in it, perhaps, fifty feet of tubes, a +perfectly-closed tubular system which I noticed Kennedy was keeping +absolutely sterile in a germicidal solution of some kind. + +Inside the tubes and surrounding them was a saline solution which was +kept at a uniform temperature by a special heating apparatus. + +Kennedy had placed the apparatus on the laboratory table and then +gently took the little dog from his basket and laid him beside it. A +few minutes later the poor little suffering Buster was mercifully under +the influence of an anesthetic. + +Quickly Craig worked. First he attached the end of one of the tubes by +means of a little cannula to the carotid artery of the dog. Then the +other was attached to the jugular vein. + +As he released the clamp which held the artery, the little dog's +feverishly beating heart spurted the arterial blood from the carotid +into the tubes holding the normal salt solution and that pressure, in +turn, pumped the salt solution which filled the tubes into the jugular +vein, thus replacing the arterial blood that had poured into the tubes +from the other end and maintaining the normal hydrostatic conditions in +the body circulation. The dog was being kept alive, although perhaps a +third of his blood was out of his body. + +"You see," he said at length, after we had watched the process a few +minutes, "what I have here is in reality an artificial kidney. It is a +system that has been devised by several doctors at Johns Hopkins. + +"If there is any toxin in the blood of this dog, the kidneys are +naturally endeavoring to eliminate it. Perhaps it is being eliminated +too slowly. In that case this arrangement which I have here will aid +them. We call it vividiffusion and it depends for its action on the +physical principle of osmosis, the passage of substances of a certain +kind through a porous membrane, such as these tubes of celloidin. + +"Thus any substance, any poison that is dialyzable is diffused into the +surrounding salt solution and the blood is passed back into the body, +with no air in it, no infection, and without alteration. Clotting is +prevented by the injection of a harmless substance derived from +leeches, known as hirudin. I prevent the loss of anything in the blood +which I want retained by placing in the salt solution around the tubes +an amount of that substance equal to that held in solution by the +blood. Of course that does not apply to the colloidal substances in the +blood which would not pass by osmosis under any circumstances. But by +such adjustments I can remove and study any desired substance in the +blood, provided it is capable of diffusion. In fact this little +apparatus has been found in practice to compare favorably with the +kidneys themselves in removing even a lethal dose of poison." + +I watched in amazement. He was actually cleaning the blood of the dog +and putting it back again, purified, into the little body. Far from +being cruel, as perhaps it might seem, it was in reality probably the +only method by which the animal could be saved, and at the same time it +was giving us a clue as to some elusive, subtle substance used in the +case. + +"Indeed," Kennedy went on reflectively, "this process can be kept up +for several hours without injury to the dog, though I do not think that +will be necessary to relieve the unwonted strain that has been put upon +his natural organs. Finally, at the close of the operation, serious +loss of blood is overcome by driving back the greater part of it into +his body, closing up the artery and vein, and taking good care of the +animal so that he will make a quick recovery." + +For a long time I watched the fascinating process of seeing the life +blood coursing through the porous tubes in the salt solution, while +Kennedy gave his undivided attention to the success of the delicate +experiment. It was late when I left him, still at work over Buster, and +went up to our apartment to turn in, convinced that nothing more would +happen that night. + +The next morning, with characteristic energy, Craig was at work early, +examining the cultures he had made from the black spots on the gelatine. + +By the look of perplexity on his face, I knew that he had discovered +something that instead of clearing the mystery up, further deepened it. + +"What do you find?" I asked anxiously. + +"Walter," he exclaimed, laying aside the last of the slides which he +had been staining and looking at intently through the microscope, "that +stuff on the gelatine is entirely harmless. There was nothing in it +except common mold." + +For the moment I did not comprehend. "Mold?" I repeated. + +"Yes," he replied, "just common, ordinary mold such as grows on the top +of a jar of fruit or preserves when it is exposed to the air." + +I stifled an exclamation of incredulity. It seemed impossible that the +deadly germ note should be harmless, in view of the events that had +followed its receipt. + +Just then the laboratory door was flung open and Reginald Blake, pale +and excited, entered. He had every mark of having been up all night. + +"What's the matter?" asked Craig. + +"It's about my mother," he blurted out. "She seems to be getting worse +all the time. Miss Sears is alarmed, and Betty is almost ill herself +with worry. Dr. Wilson doesn't seem to know what it is that affects +her, and neither does the new nurse. Can you DO something?" + +There was a tone of appeal in his voice that was not like the +self-sufficient Reginald of the day before. + +"Does there seem to be any immediate danger?" asked Kennedy. + +"Perhaps not--I can't say," he urged. "But she is gradually getting +worse instead of better." + +Kennedy thought a moment. "Has anything else happened?" he asked slowly. + +"N-no. That's enough, isn't it?" + +"Indeed it is," replied Craig, trying to be reassuring. Then, +recollecting Betty, he added, "Reginald, go back and tell your sister +for me that she must positively make the greatest effort of her life to +control herself. Tell her that her mother needs her--needs her well and +brave. I shall be up at the house immediately. Do the best you can. I +depend on you." + +Kennedy's words seemed to have a bracing effect on Reginald and a few +moments later he left, much calmer. + +"I hope I have given him something to do which will keep him from +mussing things up again," remarked Kennedy, mindful of Reginald's +former excursion into detective work. + +Meanwhile Craig plunged furiously into his study of the substances he +had isolated from the saline solution in which he had "washed" the +blood of the little Pekinese. + +"There's no use doing anything in the dark," he explained. "Until we +know what it is we are fighting we can't very well fight." + +For the moment I was overwhelmed by the impending tragedy that seemed +to be hanging over Mrs. Blake. The more I thought of it, the more +inexplicable became the discovery of the mold. + +"That is all very well about the mold on the gelatine strip in the +letter," I insisted at length. "But, Craig, there must be something +wrong somewhere. Mere molds could not have made Buster so ill, and now +the infection, or whatever it is, has spread to Mrs. Blake herself. +What have you found out by studying Buster?" + +He looked up from his close scrutiny of the material in one of the test +tubes which contained something he had recovered from the saline +solution of the diffusion apparatus. + +I could read on his face that whatever it was, it was serious. "What is +it?" I repeated almost breathlessly. + +"I suppose I might coin a word to describe it," he answered slowly, +measuring his phrases. "Perhaps it might be called +hyper-amino-acidemia." + +I puckered my eyes at the mouth-filling term Kennedy smiled. "It would +mean," he explained, "a great quantity of the amino-acids, +non-coagulable, nitrogenous compounds in the blood. You know the +indols, the phenols, and the amins are produced both by putrefactive +bacteria and by the process of metabolism, the burning up of the +tissues in the process of utilizing the energy that means life. But +under normal circumstances, the amins are not present in the blood in +any such quantities as I have discovered by this new method of +diffusion." + +He paused a moment, as if in deference to my inability to follow him on +such an abstruse topic, then resumed, "As far as I am able to +determine, this poison or toxin is an amin similar to that secreted by +certain cephalopods found in the neighborhood of Naples. It is an +aromatic amin. Smell it." + +I bent over and inhaled the peculiar odor. + +"Those creatures," he continued, "catch their prey by this highly +active poison secreted by the so-called salivary glands. Even a little +bit will kill a crab easily." + +I was following him now with intense interest, thinking of the +astuteness of a mind capable of thinking of such a poison. + +"Indeed, it is surprising," he resumed thoughtfully, "how many an +innocent substance can be changed by bacteria into a virulent poison. +In fact our poisons and our drugs are in many instances the close +relations of harmless compounds that represent the intermediate steps +in the daily process of metabolism." + +"Then," I put in, "the toxin was produced by germs, after all?" + +"I did not say that," he corrected. "It might have been. But I find no +germs in the blood of Buster. Nor did Dr. Wilson find any in the blood +smears which she took from Mrs. Blake." + +He seemed to have thrown the whole thing back again into the limbo of +the unexplainable, and I felt nonplussed. + +"The writer of that letter," he went on, waving the piece of sterile +platinum wire with which he had been transferring drops of liquid in +his search for germs, "was a much more skillful bacteriologist than I +thought, evidently. No, the trouble does not seem to be from germs +breathed in, or from germs at all--it is from some kind of germ-free +toxin that has been injected or otherwise introduced." + +Vaguely now I began to appreciate the terrible significance of what he +had discovered. + +"But the letter?" I persisted mechanically. + +"The writer of that was quite as shrewd a psychologist as +bacteriologist," pursued Craig impressively. "He calculated the moral +effect of the letter, then of Buster's illness, and finally of reaching +Mrs. Blake herself." + +"You think Dr. Rae Wilson knows nothing of it yet?" I queried. + +Kennedy appeared to consider his answer carefully. Then he said slowly: +"Almost any doctor with a microscope and the faintest trace of a +scientific education could recognize disease germs either naturally or +feloniously implanted. But when it comes to the detection of +concentrated, filtered, germ-free toxins, almost any scientist might be +baffled. Walter," he concluded, "this is not mere blackmail, although +perhaps the visit of that woman to the Prince Henry--a desperate thing +in itself, although she did get away by her quick thinking--perhaps +that shows that these people are ready to stop at nothing. No, it goes +deeper than blackmail." + +I stood aghast at the discovery of this new method of scientific +murder. The astute criminal, whoever he might be, had planned to leave +not even the slender clue that might be afforded by disease germs. He +was operating, not with disease itself, but with something showing the +ultimate effects, perhaps, of disease with none of the preliminary +symptoms, baffling even to the best of physicians. + +I scarcely knew what to say. Before I realized it, however, Craig was +at last ready for the promised visit to Mrs. Blake. We went together, +carrying Buster, in his basket, not recovered, to be sure, but a very +different little animal from the dying creature that had been sent to +us at the laboratory. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE POISON BRACELET + + +We reached the Blake mansion and were promptly admitted. Miss Betty, +bearing up bravely under Reginald's reassurances, greeted us before we +were fairly inside the door, though she and her brother were not able +to conceal the fact that their mother was no better. Miss Sears was +out, for an airing, and the new nurse, Miss Rogers, was in charge of +the patient. + +"How do you feel, this morning?" inquired Kennedy as we entered the +sun-parlor, where Mrs. Blake had first received us. + +A single glance was enough to satisfy me of the seriousness of her +condition. She seemed to be in almost a stupor from which she roused +herself only with difficulty. It was as if some overpowering toxin were +gradually undermining her already weakened constitution. + +She nodded recognition, but nothing further. + +Kennedy had set the dog basket down near her wheel-chair and she caught +sight of it. + +"Buster?" she murmured, raising her eyes. "Is--he--all right?" + +For answer, Craig simply raised the lid of the basket. Buster already +seemed to have recognized the voice of his mistress, and, with an +almost human instinct, to realize that though he himself was still weak +and ill, she needed encouragement. + +As Mrs. Blake stretched out her slender hand, drawn with pain, to his +silky head, he gave a little yelp of delight and his little red tongue +eagerly caressed her hand. + +It was as though the two understood each other. Although Mrs. Blake, as +yet, had no more idea what had happened to her pet, she seemed to feel +by some subtle means of thought transference that the intelligent +little animal was conveying to her a message of hope. The caress, the +sharp, joyous yelp, and the happy wagging of the bushy tail seemed to +brighten her up, at least for the moment, almost as if she had received +a new impetus. + +"Buster!" she exclaimed, overjoyed to get her pet back again in so much +improved condition. + +"I wouldn't exert myself too much, Mrs. Blake," cautioned Kennedy. + +"Were--were there any germs in the letter?" she asked, as Reginald and +Betty stood on the other side of the chair, much encouraged, +apparently, at this show of throwing off the lethargy that had seized +her. + +"Yes, but about as harmless as those would be on a piece of cheese," +Kennedy hastened. "But I--I feel so weak, so played out--and my head--" + +Her voice trailed off, a too evident reminder that her improvement had +been only momentary and prompted by the excitement of our arrival. + +Betty bent down solicitously and made her more comfortable as only one +woman can make another. Kennedy, meanwhile, had been talking to Miss +Rogers, and I could see that he was secretly taking her measure. + +"Has Dr. Wilson been here this morning?" I heard him ask. + +"Not yet," she replied. "But we expect her soon." + +"Professor Kennedy?" announced a servant. + +"Yes?" answered Craig. + +"There is someone on the telephone who wants to speak to you. He said +he had called the laboratory first and that they told him to call you +here." + +Kennedy hurried after the servant, while Betty and Reginald joined me, +waiting, for we seemed to feel that something was about to happen. + +"One of the unofficial detectives has unearthed a clue," he whispered +to me a few moments later when he returned. "It was Garwood." Then to +the others he added, "A car, repainted, and with the number changed, +but otherwise answering the description of Dr. Wilson's has been traced +to the West Side. It is somewhere in the neighborhood of a saloon and +garage where drivers of taxicabs hang out. Reginald, I wish you would +come along with us." + +To Betty's unspoken question Craig hastened to add, "I don't think +there is any immediate danger. If there is any change--let me know. I +shall call up soon. And meanwhile," he lowered his voice to impress the +instruction on her, "don't leave your mother for a moment--not for a +moment," he emphasized. + +Reginald was ready and together we three set off to meet Garwood at a +subway station near the point where the car had been reported. We had +scarcely closed the front door, when we ran into Duncan Baldwin, coming +down the street, evidently bent on inquiring how Mrs. Blake and Betty +were. + +"Much better," reassured Kennedy. "Come on, Baldwin. We can't have too +many on whom we can rely on an expedition like this." + +"Like what?" he asked, evidently not comprehending. + +"There's a clue, they think, to that car of Dr. Wilson's," hastily +explained Reginald, linking his arm into that of his friend and falling +in behind us, as Craig hurried ahead. + +It did not take long to reach the subway, and as we waited for the +train, Craig remarked: "This is a pretty good example of how the +automobile is becoming one of the most dangerous of criminal weapons. +All one has to do nowadays, apparently, after committing a crime, is to +jump into a waiting car and breeze away, safe." + +We met Garwood and under his guidance picked our way westward from the +better known streets in the heart of the city, to a section that was +anything but prepossessing. + +The place which Garwood sought was a typical Raines Law hotel on a +corner, with a saloon on the first floor, and apparently the requisite +number of rooms above to give it a legal license. + +We had separated a little so that we would not attract undue attention. +Kennedy and I entered the swinging doors boldly, while the others +continued across to the other corner to wait with Garwood and take in +the situation. It was a strange expedition and Reginald was fidgeting +while Duncan seemed nervous. + +Among the group of chauffeurs lounging at the bar and in the back room +anyone who had ever had any dealings with the gangs of New York might +have recognized the faces of men whose pictures were in the rogues' +gallery and who were members of those various aristocratic +organizations of the underworld. + +Kennedy glanced about at the motley crowd. "This is a place where you +need only to be introduced properly," he whispered to me, "to have any +kind of crime committed for you." + +As we stood there, observing, without appearing to do so, through an +open window on the side street I could tell from the sounds that there +was a garage in the rear of the hotel. + +We were startled to hear a sudden uproar from the street. + +Garwood, impatient at our delay, had walked down past the garage to +reconnoiter. A car was being backed out hurriedly, and as it turned and +swung around the corner, his trained eye had recognized it. + +Instantly he had reasoned that it was an attempt to make a getaway, and +had raised an alarm. + +Those nearest the door piled out, keen for any excitement. We, too, +dashed out on the street. There we saw passing an automobile, swaying +and lurching at the terrific speed with which its driver, urged it up +the avenue. As he flashed by he looked like an Italian to me, perhaps a +gunman. + +Garwood had impressed a passing trolley car into service and was +pursuing the automobile in it, as it swayed on its tracks as crazily as +the motor did on the roadway, running with all the power the motorman +could apply. + +A mounted policeman galloped past us, blazing away at the tires. The +avenue was stirred, as seldom even in its strenuous life, with reports +of shots, honking of horns, the clang of trolley bells and the shouts +of men. + +The pursuers were losing when there came a rattle and roar from the +rear wheels which told that the tires were punctured and the heavy car +was riding on its rims. A huge brewery wagon crossing a side street +paused to see the fun, effectually blocking the road. + +The car jolted to a stop. The chauffeur leaped out and a moment later +dived down into a cellar. In that congested district, pursuit was +useless. + +"Only an accomplice," commented Kennedy. "Perhaps we can get him some +other way if we can catch the man--or woman--higher up." + +Down the street now we could see Garwood surrounded by a curious crowd +but in possession of the car. I looked about for Duncan and Reginald. +They had apparently been swallowed up in the crowds of idlers which +seemed to be pouring out of nowhere, collecting to gape at the +excitement, after the manner of a New York crowd. + +As I ran my eye over them, I caught sight of Reginald near the corner +where we had left him in an incipient fight with someone who had a +fancied grievance. A moment later we had rescued him. + +"Where's Duncan?" he panted. "Did anything happen to him? Garwood told +us to stay here--but we got separated." + +Policemen had appeared on the heels of the crowd and now, except for a +knot following Garwood, things seemed to be calming down. + +The excitement over, and the people thinning out, Kennedy still could +not find any trace of Duncan. Finally he glanced in again through the +swinging doors. There was Duncan, evidently quite upset by what had +occurred, fortifying himself at the bar. + +Suddenly from above came a heavy thud, as if someone had fallen on the +floor above us, followed by a suppressed shuffling of feet and a cry of +help. + +Kennedy sprang toward a side door which led out into the hall to the +hotel room above. It was locked. Before any of the others he ran out on +the street and into the hall that way, taking the stairs two at a time, +past a little cubby-hole of an "office" and down the upper hall to a +door from which came the cry. + +It was a peculiar room into which we burst, half bedroom, half +workshop, or rather laboratory, for on a deal table by a window stood a +rack of test-tubes, several beakers, and other paraphernalia. + +A chambermaid was shrieking over a woman who was lying lethargic on the +floor. + +I looked more closely. + +It was Dora Sears. + +For the moment I could not imagine what had happened. Had the events of +the past few days worked on her mind and driven her into temporary +insanity? Or had the blackmailing gang of automobile thieves, failing +in extorting money by their original plan, seized her? + +Kennedy bent over and tried to lift her up. As he did so, the gold +bracelet, unclasped, clattered to the floor. + +He picked it up and for a moment looked at it. It was hollow, but in +that part of it where it unclasped could be seen a minute hypodermic +needle and traces of a liquid. + +"A poison bracelet," he muttered to himself, "one in which enough of a +virulent poison could be hidden so that in an emergency death could +cheat the law." + +"But this Dr. Hopf," exclaimed Reginald, who stood behind us looking +from the insensible girl to the bracelet and slowly comprehending what +it all meant, "she alone knows where and who he is!" + +We looked at Kennedy. What was to be done? Was the criminal higher up +to escape because one of his tools had been cornered and had taken the +easiest way to get out? + +Kennedy had taken down the receiver of the wall telephone in the room. +A moment later he was calling insistently for his laboratory. One of +the students in another part of the building answered. Quickly he +described the apparatus for vividiffusion and how to handle it without +rupturing any of the delicate tubes. + +"The large one," he ordered, "with one hundred and ninety-two tubes. +And hurry." + +Before the student appeared, came an ambulance which some one in the +excitement had summoned. Kennedy quickly commandeered both the young +doctor and what surgical material he had with him. + +Briefly he explained what he proposed to do and before the student +arrived with the apparatus, they had placed the nurse in such a +position that they were ready for the operation. + +The next room which was unoccupied had been thrown open to us and there +I waited with Reginald and Duncan, endeavoring to explain to them the +mysteries of the new process of washing the blood. + +The minutes lengthened into hours, as the blood of the poisoned girl +coursed through its artificial channel, literally being washed of the +toxin from the poisoned bracelet. + +Would it succeed? It had saved the life of Buster. But would it bring +back the unfortunate before us, long enough even for her to yield her +secret and enable us to catch the real criminal. What if she died? + +As Kennedy worked, the young men with me became more and more +fascinated, watching him. The vividiffusion apparatus was now in full +operation. + +In the intervals when he left the apparatus in charge of the young +ambulance surgeon Kennedy was looking over the room. In a trunk which +was open he found several bundles of papers. As he ran his eye over +them quickly, he selected some and stuffed them into his pocket, then +went back to watch the working of the apparatus. + +Reginald, who had been growing more and more nervous, at last asked if +he might call up Betty to find out how his mother was. + +He came back from the telephone, his face wrinkled. + +"Poor mother," he remarked anxiously, "do you think she will pull +through, Professor? Betty says that Dr. Wilson has given her no idea +yet about the nature of the trouble." + +Kennedy thought a moment. "Of course," he said, "your mother has had no +such relative amount of the poison as Buster has had. I think that +undoubtedly she will recover by purely natural means. I hope so. But if +not, here is the apparatus," and he patted the vividiffusion tubes in +their glass case, "that will save her, too." + +As well as I could I explained to Reginald the nature of the toxin that +Kennedy had discovered. Duncan listened, putting in a question now and +then. But it was evident that his thoughts were on something else, and +now and then Reginald, breaking into his old humor, rallied him about +thinking of Betty. + +A low exclamation from both Kennedy and the surgeon attracted us. + +Dora Sears had moved. + +The operation of the apparatus was stopped, the artery and vein had +been joined up, and she was slowly coming out from under the effects of +the anesthetic. + +As we gathered about her, at a little distance, we heard her cry in her +delirium, "I--I would have--done--anything--for him." + +We strained our ears. Was she talking of the blackmailer, Dr. Hopf? + +"Who?" asked Craig, bending over close to her ear. + +"I--I would--have done anything," she repeated as if someone had +contradicted her. She went on, dreamily, ramblingly, "He--is--is--my +brother. I--" + +She stopped through weakness. + +"Where is Dr. Hopf?" asked Kennedy, trying to recall her fleeting +attention. + +"Dr. Hopf? Dr. Hopf?" she repeated, then smiling to herself as people +will when they are leaving the borderline of anesthesia, she repeated +the name, "Hopf?" + +"Yes," persisted Kennedy. + +"There is no Dr. Hopf," she added. "Tell me--did--did they--" + +"No Dr. Hopf?" Kennedy insisted. + +She had lapsed again into half insensibility. + +He rose and faced us, speaking rapidly. + +"New York seems to have a mysterious and uncanny attraction for odds +and ends of humanity, among them the great army of adventuresses. In +fact there often seems to be something decidedly adventurous about the +nursing profession. This is a girl of unusual education in medicine. +Evidently she has traveled--her letters show it. Many of them show that +she has been in Italy. Perhaps it was there that she heard of the drug +that has been used in this case. It was she who injected the germ-free +toxin, first into the dog, then into Mrs. Blake, she who wrote the +blackmail letter which was to have explained the death." + +He paused. Evidently she had heard dimly, was straining every effort to +hear. In her effort she caught sight of our faces. + +Suddenly, as if she had seen an apparition, she raised herself with +almost superhuman strength. + +"Duncan!" she cried. "Duncan! Why--didn't you--get away--while there +was time--after you warned me?" + +Kennedy had wheeled about and was facing us. He was holding in his hand +some of the letters he had taken from the trunk. Among others was a +folded piece of parchment that looked like a diploma. He unfolded it +and we bent over to read. + +It was a diploma from the Central Western College of Nursing. As I read +the name written in, it was with a shock. It was not Dora Sears, but +Dora Baldwin. + +"A very clever plot," he ground out, taking a step nearer us. "With the +aid of your sister and a disreputable gang of chauffeurs you planned to +hasten the death of Mrs. Blake, to hasten the inheritance of the Blake +fortune by your future wife. I think your creditors will have less +chance of collecting now than ever, Duncan Baldwin." + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +THE DEVIL WORSHIPERS + + +Tragic though the end of the young nurse, Dora Baldwin, had been, the +scheme of her brother, in which she had become fatally involved, was by +no means as diabolical as that in the case that confronted us a short +time after that. + +I recall this case particularly not only because it was so weird but +also because of the unique manner in which it began. + +"I am damned--Professor Kennedy--damned!" + +The words rang out as the cry of a lost soul. A terrible look of +inexpressible anguish and fear was written on the face of Craig's +visitor, as she uttered them and sank back, trembling, in the easy +chair, mentally and physically convulsed. + +As nearly as I had been able to follow, Mrs. Veda Blair's story had +dealt mostly with a Professor and Madame Rapport and something she +called the "Red Lodge" of the "Temple of the Occult." + +She was not exactly a young woman, although she was a very attractive +one. She was of an age that is, perhaps, even more interesting than +youth. + +Veda Blair, I knew, had been, before her recent marriage to Seward +Blair, a Treacy, of an old, though somewhat unfortunate, family. Both +the Blairs and the Treacys had been intimate and old Seward Blair, when +he died about a year before, had left his fortune to his son on the +condition that he marry Veda Treacy. + +"Sometimes," faltered Mrs. Blair, "it is as though I had two souls. One +of them is dispossessed of its body and the use of its organs and is +frantic at the sight of the other that has crept in." + +She ended her rambling story, sobbing the terrible words, "Oh--I have +committed the unpardonable sin--I am anathema--I am damned--damned!" + +She said nothing of what terrible thing she had done and Kennedy, for +the present, did not try to lead the conversation. But of all the +stories that I have heard poured forth in the confessional of the +detective's office, hers, I think, was the wildest. + +Was she insane? At least I felt that she was sincere. Still, I wondered +what sort of hallucination Craig had to deal with, as Veda Blair +repeated the incoherent tale of her spiritual vagaries. + +Almost, I had begun to fancy that this was a case for a doctor, not for +a detective, when suddenly she asked a most peculiar question. + +"Can people affect you for good or evil, merely by thinking about you?" +she queried. Then a shudder passed over her. "They may be thinking +about me now!" she murmured in terror. + +Her fear was so real and her physical distress so evident that Kennedy, +who had been listening silently for the most part, rose and hastened to +reassure her. + +"Not unless you make your own fears affect yourself and so play into +their hands," he said earnestly. + +Veda looked at him a moment, then shook her head mournfully. "I have +seen Dr. Vaughn," she said slowly. + +Dr. Gilbert Vaughn, I recollected, was a well-known alienist in the +city. + +"He tried to tell me the same thing," she resumed doubtfully. +"But--oh--I know what I know! I have felt the death thought--and he +knows it!" + +"What do you mean?" inquired Kennedy, leaning forward keenly. + +"The death thought," she repeated, "a malicious psychic attack. Some +one is driving me to death by it. I thought I could fight it off. I +went away to escape it. Now I have come back--and I have not escaped. +There is always that disturbing influence--always--directed against me. +I know it will--kill me!" + +I listened, startled. The death thought! What did it mean? What +terrible power was it? Was it hypnotism? What was this fearsome, cruel +belief, this modern witchcraft that could unnerve a rich and educated +woman? Surely, after all, I felt that this was not a case for a doctor +alone; it called for a detective. + +"You see," she went on, heroically trying to control herself, "I have +always been interested in the mysterious, the strange, the occult. In +fact my father and my husband's father met through their common +interest. So, you see, I come naturally by it. + +"Not long ago I heard of Professor and Madame Rapport and their new +Temple of the Occult. I went to it, and later Seward became interested, +too. We have been taken into a sort of inner circle," she continued +fearfully, as though there were some evil power in the very words +themselves, "the Red Lodge." + +"You have told Dr. Vaughn?" shot out Kennedy suddenly, his eyes fixed +on her face to see what it would betray. + +Veda leaned forward, as if to tell a secret, then whispered in a low +voice, "He knows. Like us--he--he is a--Devil Worshiper!" + +"What?" exclaimed Kennedy in wide-eyed astonishment. + +"A Devil Worshiper," she repeated. "You haven't heard of the Red Lodge?" + +Kennedy nodded negatively. "Could you get us--initiated?" he hazarded. + +"P--perhaps," she hesitated, in a half-frightened tone. "I--I'll try to +get you in to-night." + +She had risen, half dazed, as if her own temerity overwhelmed her. + +"You--poor girl," blurted out Kennedy, his sympathies getting the upper +hand for the moment as he took the hand she extended mutely. "Trust me. +I will do all in my power, all in the power of modern science to help +you fight off this--influence." + +There must have been something magnetic, hypnotic in his eye. + +"I will stop here for you," she murmured, as she almost fled from the +room. + +Personally, I cannot say that I liked the idea of spying. It is not +usually clean and wholesome. But I realized that occasionally it was +necessary. + +"We are in for it now," remarked Kennedy half humorously, half +seriously, "to see the Devil in the twentieth century." + +"And I," I added, "I am, I suppose, to be the reporter to Satan." + +We said nothing more about it, but I thought much about it, and the +more I thought, the more incomprehensible the thing seemed. I had heard +of Devil Worship, but had always associated it with far-off Indian and +other heathen lands--in fact never among Caucasians in modern times, +except possibly in Paris. Was there such a cult here in my own city? I +felt skeptical. + +That night, however, promptly at the appointed time, a cab called for +us, and in it was Veda Blair, nervous but determined. + +"Seward has gone ahead," she explained. "I told him that a friend had +introduced you, that you had studied the occult abroad. I trust you to +carry it out." + +Kennedy reassured her. + +The curtains were drawn and we could see nothing outside, though we +must have been driven several miles, far out into the suburbs. + +At last the cab stopped. As we left it we could see nothing of the +building, for the cab had entered a closed courtyard. + +"Who enters the Red Lodge?" challenged a sepulchral voice at the +porte-cochere. "Give the password!" + +"The Serpent's Tooth," Veda answered. + +"Who are these?" asked the voice. + +"Neophytes," she replied, and a whispered parley followed. + +"Then enter!" announced the voice at length. + +It was a large room into which we were first ushered, to be inducted +into the rites of Satan. + +There seemed to be both men and women, perhaps half a dozen votaries. +Seward Blair was already present. As I met him, I did not like the look +in his eye; it was too stary. Dr. Vaughn was there, too, talking in a +low tone to Madame Rapport. He shot a quick look at us. His were not +eyes but gimlets that tried to bore into your very soul. Chatting with +Seward Blair was a Mrs. Langhorne, a very beautiful woman. To-night she +seemed to be unnaturally excited. + +All seemed to be on most intimate terms, and, as we waited a few +minutes, I could not help recalling a sentence from Huysmans: "The +worship of the Devil is no more insane than the worship of God. The +worshipers of Satan are mystics--mystics of an unclean sort, it is +true, but mystics none the less." + +I did not agree with it, and did not repeat it, of course, but a moment +later I overheard Dr. Vaughn saying to Kennedy: "Hoffman brought the +Devil into modern life. Poe forgoes the aid of demons and works +patiently and precisely by the scientific method. But the result is the +same." + +"Yes," agreed Kennedy for the sake of appearances, "in a sense, I +suppose, we are all devil worshipers in modern society--always have +been. It is fear that rules and we fear the bad--not the good." + +As we waited, I felt, more and more, the sense of the mysterious, the +secret, the unknown which have always exercised a powerful attraction +on the human mind. Even the aeroplane and the submarine, the X-ray and +wireless have not banished the occult. + +In it, I felt, there was fascination for the frivolous and deep appeal +to the intellectual and spiritual. The Temple of the Occult had +evidently been designed to appeal to both types. I wondered how, like +Lucifer, it had fallen. The prime requisite, I could guess already, +however, was--money. Was it in its worship of the root of all evil that +it had fallen? + +We passed soon into another room, hung entirely in red, with weird, +cabalistic signs all about, on the walls. It was uncanny, creepy. + +A huge reproduction in plaster of one of the most sardonic of Notre +Dame's gargoyles seemed to preside over everything--a terrible figure +in such an atmosphere. + +As we entered, we were struck by the blinding glare of the light, in +contrast with the darkened room in which we had passed our brief +novitiate, if it might be called such. + +Suddenly the lights were extinguished. + +The great gargoyle shone with an infernal light of its own! + +"Phosphorescent paint," whispered Kennedy to me. + +Still, it did not detract from the weird effect to know what caused it. + +There was a startling noise in the general hush. + +"Sata!" cried one of the devotees. + +A door opened and there appeared the veritable priest of the +Devil--pale of face, nose sharp, mouth bitter, eyes glassy. + +"That is Rapport," Vaughn whispered to me. + +The worshipers crowded forward. + +Without a word, he raised his long, lean forefinger and began to single +them out impressively. As he did so, each spoke, as if imploring aid. + +He came to Mrs. Langhorne. + +"I have tried the charm," she cried earnestly, "and the one whom I love +still hates me, while the one I hate loves me!" + +"Concentrate!" replied the priest, "concentrate! Think always 'I love +him. He must love me. I want him to love me. I love him. He must love +me.' Over and over again you must think it. Then the other side, 'I +hate him. He must leave me. I want him to leave me. I hate him--hate +him.'" + +Around the circle he went. + +At last his lean finger was outstretched at Veda. It seemed as if some +imp of the perverse were compelling her unwilling tongue to unlock its +secrets. + +"Sometimes," she cried in a low, tremulous voice, "something seems to +seize me, as if by the hand and urge me onward. I cannot flee from it." + +"Defend yourself!" answered the priest subtly. "When you know that some +one is trying to kill you mentally, defend yourself! Work against it by +every means in your power. Discourage! Intimidate! Destroy!" + +I marveled at these cryptic utterances. They shadowed a modern Black +Art, of which I had had no conception--a recrudescence in other +language of the age-old dualism of good and evil. It was a sort of +mental malpractice. + +"Over and over again," he went on speaking to her, "the same thought is +to be repeated against an enemy. 'You know you are going to die! You +know you are going to die!' Do it an hour, two hours, at a time. Others +can help you, all thinking in unison the same thought." + +What was this, I asked myself breathlessly--a new transcendental +toxicology? + +Slowly, a strange mephitic vapor seemed to exhale into the room--or was +it my heightened imagination? + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +THE PSYCHIC CURSE + + +There came a sudden noise--nameless--striking terror, low, rattling. I +stood rooted to the spot. What was it that held me? Was it an atavistic +joy in the horrible or was it merely a blasphemous curiosity? + +I scarcely dared to look. + +At last I raised my eyes. There was a live snake, upraised, his fangs +striking out viciously--a rattler! + +I would have drawn back and fled, but Craig caught my arm. + +"Caged," he whispered monosyllabically. + +I shuddered. This, at least, was no drawing-room diablerie. + +"It is Ophis," intoned Rapport, "the Serpent--the one active form in +Nature that cannot be ungraceful!" + +The appearance of the basilisk seemed to heighten the tension. + +At last it broke loose and then followed the most terrible blasphemies. +The disciples, now all frenzied, surrounded closer the priest, the +gargoyle and the serpent. + +They worshiped with howls and obscenities. Mad laughter mingled with +pale fear and wild scorn in turns were written on the hectic faces +about me. + +They had risen--it became a dance, a reel. + +The votaries seemed to spin about on their axes, as it were, uttering a +low, moaning chant as they whirled. It was a mania, the spirit of +demonism. Something unseen seemed to urge them on. + +Disgusted and stifled at the surcharged atmosphere, I would have tried +to leave, but I seemed frozen to the spot. I could think of nothing +except Poe's Masque of the Red Death. + +Above all the rest whirled Seward Blair himself. The laugh of the +fiend, for the moment, was in his mouth. An instant he stood--the +oracle of the Demon--devil-possessed. Around whirled the frantic +devotees, howling. + +Shrilly he cried, "The Devil is in me!" + +Forward staggered the devil dancer--tall, haggard, with deep sunken +eyes and matted hair, face now smeared with dirt and blood-red with the +reflection of the strange, unearthly phosphorescence. + +He reeled slowly through the crowd, crooning a quatrain, in a low, +monotonous voice, his eyelids drooping and his head forward on his +breast: + + If the Red Slayer think he slays, + Or the slain think he is slain, + They know not well the subtle ways + I keep and pass and turn again! + +Entranced the whirling crowd paused and watched. One of their number +had received the "power." + +He was swaying slowly to and fro. + +"Look!" whispered Kennedy. + +His fingers twitched, his head wagged uncannily. Perspiration seemed to +ooze from every pore. His breast heaved. + +He gave a sudden yell--ear-piercing. Then followed a screech of hellish +laughter. + +The dance had ended, the dancers spellbound at the sight. + +He was whirling slowly, eyes protruding now, mouth foaming, chest +rising and falling like a bellows, muscles quivering. + +Cries, vows, imprecations, prayers, all blended in an infernal hubbub. + +With a burst of ghastly, guttural laughter, he shrieked, "I AM the +Devil!" + +His arms waved--cutting, sawing, hacking the air. + +The votaries, trembling, scarcely moved, breathed, as he danced. + +Suddenly he gave a great leap into the air--then fell, motionless. They +crowded around him. The fiendish look was gone--the demoniac laughter +stilled. + +It was over. + +The tension of the orgy had been too much for us. We parted, with +scarcely a word, and yet I could feel that among the rest there was a +sort of unholy companionship. + +Silently, Kennedy and I drove away in the darkened cab, this time with +Seward and Veda Blair and Mrs. Langhorne. + +For several minutes not a word was said. I was, however, much occupied +in watching the two women. It was not because of anything they said or +did. That was not necessary. But I felt that there was a feud, +something that set them against each other. + +"How would Rapport use the death thought, I wonder?" asked Craig +speculatively, breaking the silence. + +Blair answered quickly. "Suppose some one tried to break away, to +renounce the Lodge, expose its secrets. They would treat him so as to +make him harmless--perhaps insane, confused, afraid to talk, paralyzed, +or even to commit suicide or be killed in an accident. They would put +the death thought on him!" + +Even in the prosaic jolting of the cab, away from the terrible +mysteries of the Red Lodge, one could feel the spell. + +The cab stopped. Seward was on his feet in a moment and handing Mrs. +Langhorne out at her home. For a moment they paused on the steps for an +exchange of words. + +In that moment I caught flitting over the face of Veda a look of +hatred, more intense, more real, more awful than any that had been +induced under the mysteries of the rites at the Lodge. + +It was gone in an instant, and as Seward rejoined us I felt that, with +Mrs. Langhorne gone, there was less restraint. I wondered whether it +was she who had inspired the fear in Veda. + +Although it was more comfortable, the rest of our journey was made in +silence and the Blairs dropped us at our apartment with many +expressions of cordiality as we left them to proceed to their own. + +"Of one thing I'm sure," I remarked, entering the room where only a few +short hours before Mrs. Blair had related her strange tale. "Whatever +the cause of it, the devil dancers don't sham." + +Kennedy did not reply. He was apparently wrapped up in the +consideration of the remarkable events of the evening. + +As for myself, it was a state of affairs which, the day before, I +should have pronounced utterly beyond the wildest bounds of the +imagination of the most colorful writer. Yet here it was; I had seen it. + +I glanced up to find Kennedy standing by the light examining something +he had apparently picked up at the Red Lodge. I bent over to look at +it, too. It was a little glass tube. + +"An ampoule, I believe the technical name of such a container is," he +remarked, holding it closer to the light. + +In it were the remains of a dried yellow substance, broken up minutely, +resembling crystals. + +"Who dropped it?" I asked. + +"Vaughn, I think," he replied. "At least, I saw him near Blair, +stooping over him, at the end, and I imagine this is what I saw +gleaming for an instant in the light." + +Kennedy said nothing more, and for my part I was thoroughly at sea and +could make nothing out of it all. + +"What object can such a man as Dr. Vaughn possibly have in frequenting +such a place?" I asked at length, adding, "And there's that Mrs. +Langhorne--she was interesting, too." + +Kennedy made no direct reply. "I shall have them shadowed to-morrow," +he said briefly, "while I am at work in the laboratory over this +ampoule." + +As usual, also, Craig had begun on his scientific studies long before I +was able to shake myself loose from the nightmares that haunted me +after our weird experience of the evening. + +He had already given the order to an agency for the shadowing, and his +next move was to start me out, also, looking into the history of those +concerned in the case. As far as I was able to determine, Dr. Vaughn +had an excellent reputation, and I could find no reason whatever for +his connection with anything of the nature of the Red Lodge. The +Rapports seemed to be nearly unknown in New York, although it was +reported that they had come from Paris lately. Mrs. Langhorne was a +divorcee from one of the western states, but little was known about +her, except that she always seemed to be well supplied with money. It +seemed to be well known in the circle in which Seward Blair moved that +he was friendly with her, and I had about reached the conclusion that +she was unscrupulously making use of his friendship, perhaps was not +above such a thing as blackmail. + +Thus the day passed, and we heard no word from Veda Blair, although +that was explained by the shadows, whose trails crossed in a most +unexpected manner. Their reports showed that there was a meeting at the +Red Lodge during the late afternoon, at which all had been present +except Dr. Vaughn. We learned also from them the exact location of the +Lodge, in an old house just across the line in Westchester. + +It was evidently a long and troublesome analysis that Craig was engaged +in at the laboratory, for it was some hours after dinner that night +when he came into the apartment, and even then he said nothing, but +buried himself in some of the technical works with which his library +was stocked. He said little, but I gathered that he was in great doubt +about something, perhaps, as much as anything, about how to proceed +with so peculiar a case. + +It was growing late, and Kennedy was still steeped in his books, when +the door of the apartment, which we happened to have left unlocked, was +suddenly thrown open and Seward Blair burst in on us, wildly excited. + +"Veda is gone!" he cried, before either of us could ask him what was +the matter. + +"Gone?" repeated Kennedy. "How--where?" + +"I don't know," Blair blurted out breathlessly. "We had been out +together this afternoon, and I returned with her. Then I went out to +the club after dinner for a while, and when I got back I missed +her--not quarter of an hour ago. I burst into her room--and there I +found this note. Read it. I don't know what to do. No one seems to know +what has become of her. I've called up all over and then thought +perhaps you might help me, might know some friend of hers that I don't +know, with whom she might have gone out." + +Blair was plainly eager for us to help him. Kennedy took the paper from +him. On it, in a trembling hand, were scrawled some words, evidently +addressed to Blair himself: + +"You would forgive me and pity me if you knew what I have been through. + +"When I refused to yield my will to the will of the Lodge I suppose I +aroused the enmity of the Lodge. + +"To-night as I lay in bed, alone, I felt that my hour had come, that +mental forces that were almost irresistible were being directed against +me. + +"I realized that I must fight not only for my sanity but for my life. + +"For hours I have fought that fight. + +"But during those hours, some one, I won't say who, seemed to have +developed such psychic faculties of penetration that they were able to +make their bodies pass through the walls of my room. + +"At last I am conquered. I pray that you--" + +The writing broke off abruptly, as if she had left it in wild flight. + +"What does that mean?" asked Kennedy, "the 'will of the Lodge'?" + +Blair looked at us keenly. I fancied that there was even something +accusatory in the look. "Perhaps it was some mental reservation on her +part," he suggested. "You do not know yourself of any reason why she +should fear anything, do you?" he asked pointedly. + +Kennedy did not betray even by the motion of an eyelash that we knew +more than we should ostensibly. + +There was a tap at the door. I sprang to open it, thinking perhaps, +after all, it was Veda herself. + +Instead, a man, a stranger, stood there. + +"Is this Professor Kennedy?" he asked, touching his hat. + +Craig nodded. + +"I am from the psychopathic ward of the City Hospital--an orderly, +sir," the man introduced. + +"Yes," encouraged Craig, "what can I do for you?" + +"A Mrs. Blair has just been brought in, sir, and we can't find her +husband. She's calling for you now." + +Kennedy stared from the orderly to Seward Blair, startled, speechless. + +"What has happened?" asked Blair anxiously. "I am Mr. Blair." + +The orderly shook his head. He had delivered his message. That was all +he knew. + +"What do you suppose it is?" I asked, as we sped across town in a +taxicab. "Is it the curse that she dreaded?" + +Kennedy said nothing and Blair appeared to hear nothing. His face was +drawn in tense lines. + +The psychopathic ward is at once one of the most interesting and one of +the most depressing departments of a large city hospital, harboring, as +it does, all from the more or less harmless insane to violent +alcoholics and wrecked drug fiends. + +Mrs. Blair, we learned, had been found hatless, without money, dazed, +having fallen, after an apparently aimless wandering in the streets. + +For the moment she lay exhausted on the white bed of the ward, eyes +glazed, pupils contracted, pulse now quick, now almost evanescent, face +drawn, breathing difficult, moaning now and then in physical and mental +agony. + +Until she spoke it was impossible to tell what had happened, but the +ambulance surgeon had found a little red mark on her white forearm and +had pointed it out, evidently with the idea that she was suffering from +a drug. + +At the mere sight of the mark, Blair stared as though hypnotized. +Leaning over to Kennedy, so that the others could not hear, he +whispered, "It is the mark of the serpent!" + +Our arrival had been announced to the hospital physician, who entered +and stood for a moment looking at the patient. + +"I think it is a drug--a poison," he said meditatively. + +"You haven't found out yet what it is, then?" asked Craig. + +The physician shook his head doubtfully. "Whatever it is," he said +slowly, "it is closely allied to the cyanide groups in its rapacious +activity. I haven't the slightest idea of its true nature, but it seems +to have a powerful affinity for important nerve centers of respiration +and muscular coordination, as well as for disorganizing the blood. I +should say that it produces death by respiratory paralysis and +convulsions. To my mind it is an exact, though perhaps less active, +counterpart of hydrocyanic acid." + +Kennedy had been listening intently at the start, but before the +physician had finished he had bent over and made a ligature quickly +with his handkerchief. + +Then he dispatched a messenger with a note. Next he cut about the +minute wound on her arm until the blood flowed, cupping it to increase +the flow. Now and then he had them administer a little stimulant. + +He had worked rapidly, while Blair watched him with a sort of +fascination. + +"Get Dr. Vaughn," ordered Craig, as soon as he had a breathing spell +after his quick work, adding, "and Professor and Madame Rapport. +Walter, attend to that, will you? I think you will find an officer +outside. You'll have to compel them to come, if they won't come +otherwise," he added, giving the address of the Lodge, as we had found +it. + +Blair shot a quick look at him, as though Craig in his knowledge were +uncanny. Apparently, the address had been a secret which he thought we +did not know. + +I managed to find an officer and dispatch him for the Rapports. A +hospital orderly, I thought, would serve to get Dr. Vaughn. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +THE SERPENT'S TOOTH + + +I had scarcely returned to the ward when, suddenly, an unnatural +strength seemed to be infused into Veda. + +She had risen in bed. + +"It shall not catch me!" she cried in a new paroxysm of nameless +terror. "No--no--it is pursuing me. I am never out of its grasp. I have +been thought six feet underground--I know it. There it is again--still +driving me--still driving me! + +"Will it never stop? Will no one stop it? Save me! It--is the death +thought!" + +She had risen convulsively and had drawn back in abject, cowering +terror. What was it she saw? Evidently it was very real and very awful. +It pursued her relentlessly. + +As she lay there, rolling her eyes about, she caught sight of us and +recognized us for the first time, although she had been calling for us. + +"They had the thought on you, too, Professor Kennedy," she almost +screamed. "Hour after hour, Rapport and the rest repeated over and over +again, 'Why does not some one kill him? Why does he not die?' They knew +you--even when I brought you to the Red Lodge. They thought you were a +spy." + +I turned to Kennedy. He had advanced and was leaning over to catch +every word. Blair was standing behind me and she had not seen her +husband yet. A quick glance showed me that he was trembling from head +to foot like a leaf, as though he, too, were pursued by the nameless +terror. + +"What did they do?" Kennedy asked in a low tone. + +Fearfully, gripping the bars of the iron bed, as though they were some +tangible support for her mind, she answered: "They would get together. +'Now, all of you,' they said, 'unite yourselves in thought against our +enemy, against Kennedy, that he must leave off persecuting us. He is +ripe for destruction!'" + +Kennedy glanced sidewise at me, with a significant look. + +"God grant," she implored, "that none haunt me for what I have done in +my ignorance!" + +Just then the door opened and my messenger entered, accompanied by Dr. +Vaughn. + +I had turned to catch the expression on Blair's face just in time. It +was a look of abject appeal. + +Before Dr. Vaughn could ask a question, or fairly take in the +situation, Kennedy had faced him. + +"What was the purpose of all that elaborate mummery out at the Red +Lodge?" asked Kennedy pointblank. + +I think I looked at Craig in no less amazement than Vaughn. In spite of +the dramatic scenes through which we had passed, the spell of the +occult had not fallen on him for an instant. + +"Mummery?" repeated Dr. Vaughn, bending his penetrating eyes on +Kennedy, as if he would force him to betray himself first. + +"Yes," reiterated Craig. "You know as well as I do that it has been +said that it is a well-established fact that the world wants to be +deceived and is willing to pay for the privilege." + +Dr. Vaughn still gazed from one to the other of us defiantly. + +"You know what I mean," persisted Kennedy, "the mumbo-jumbo--just as +the Haitian obi man sticks pins in a doll or melts a wax figure of his +enemy. That is supposed to be an outward sign. But back of this +terrible power that people believe moves in darkness and mystery is +something tangible--something real." + +Dr. Vaughn looked up sharply at him, I think mistaking Kennedy's +meaning. If he did, all doubt that Kennedy attributed anything to the +supernatural was removed as he went on: "At first I had no explanation +of the curious events I have just witnessed, and the more I thought +about them, the more obscure did they seem. + +"I have tried to reason the thing out," he continued thoughtfully. "Did +auto-suggestion, self-hypnotism explain what I have seen? Has Veda +Blair been driven almost to death by her own fears only?" + +No one interrupted and he answered his own question. "Somehow the idea +that it was purely fear that had driven her on did not satisfy me. As I +said, I wanted something more tangible. I could not help thinking that +it was not merely subjective. There was something objective, some force +at work, something more than psychic in the result achieved by this +criminal mental marauder, whoever it is." + +I was following Kennedy's reasoning now closely. As he proceeded, the +point that he was making seemed more clear to me. + +Persons of a certain type of mind could be really mentally unbalanced +by such methods which we had heard outlined, where the mere fact of +another trying to exert power over them became known to them. They +would, as a matter of fact, unbalance themselves, thinking about and +fighting off imaginary terrors. + +Such people, I could readily see, might be quickly controlled, and in +the wake of such control would follow stifled love, wrecked homes, +ruined fortunes, suicide and even death. + +Dr. Vaughn leaned forward critically. "What did you conclude, then, was +the explanation of what you saw last night?" he asked sharply. + +Kennedy met his question squarely, without flinching. "It looks to me," +he replied quietly, "like a sort of hystero-epilepsy. It is well known, +I believe, to demonologists--those who have studied this sort of thing. +They have recognized the contortions, the screams, the wild, +blasphemous talk, the cataleptic rigidity. They are epileptiform." + +Vaughn said nothing, but continued to weigh Kennedy as if in a balance. +I, who knew him, knew that it would take a greater than Vaughn to find +him wanting, once Kennedy chose to speak. As for Vaughn, was he trying +to hide behind some technicality in medical ethics? + +"Dr. Vaughn," continued Craig, as if goading him to the point of +breaking down his calm silence, "you are specialist enough to know +these things as well, better than I do. You must know that epilepsy is +one of the most peculiar diseases. + +"The victim may be in good physical condition, apparently. In fact, +some hardly know that they have it. But it is something more than +merely the fits. Always there is something wrong mentally. It is not +the motor disturbance so much as the disturbance of consciousness." + +Kennedy was talking slowly, deliberately, so that none could drop a +link in the reasoning. + +"Perhaps one in ten epileptics has insane periods, more or less," he +went on, "and there is no more dangerous form of insanity. +Self-consciousness is lost, and in this state of automatism the worst +of crimes have been committed without the subsequent knowledge of the +patient. In that state they are no more responsible than are the actors +in one's dreams." + +The hospital physician entered, accompanied by Craig's messenger, +breathless. Craig almost seized the package from his hands and broke +the seal. + +"Ah--this is what I wanted," he exclaimed, with an air of relief, +forgetting for the time the exposition of the case that he was engaged +in. "Here I have some anti-crotalus venine, of Drs. Flexner and +Noguchi. Fortunately, in the city it is within easy reach." + +Quickly, with the aid of the physician he injected it into Veda's arm. + +"Of all substances in nature," he remarked, still at work over the +unfortunate woman, "none is so little known as the venom of serpents." + +It was a startling idea which the sentence had raised in my mind. All +at once I recalled the first remark of Seward Blair, in which he had +repeated the password that had admitted us into the Red Lodge--"the +Serpent's Tooth." Could it have been that she had really been bitten at +some of the orgies by the serpent which they worshiped hideously +hissing in its cage? I was sure that, at least until they were +compelled, none would say anything about it. Was that the +interpretation of the almost hypnotized look on Blair's face? + +"We know next to nothing of the composition of the protein bodies in +the venoms which have such terrific, quick physiological effects," +Kennedy was saying. "They have been studied, it is true, but we cannot +really say that they are understood--or even that there are any +adequate tests by which they can be recognized. The fact is, that snake +venoms are about the safest of poisons for the criminal." + +Kennedy had scarcely propounded this startling idea when a car was +heard outside. The Rapports had arrived, with the officer I had sent +after them, protesting and threatening. + +They quieted down a bit as they entered, and after a quick glance +around saw who was present. + +Professor Rapport gave one glance at the victim lying exhausted on the +bed, then drew back, melodramatically, and cried, "The Serpent--the +mark of the serpent!" + +For a moment Kennedy gazed full in the eyes of them all. + +"WAS it a snake bite?" he asked slowly, then, turning to Mrs. Blair, +after a quick glance, he went on rapidly, "The first thing to ascertain +is whether the mark consists of two isolated punctures, from the +poison-conducting teeth or fangs of the snake, which are constructed +like a hypodermic needle." + +The hospital physician had bent over her at the words, and before +Kennedy could go on interrupted: "This was not a snake bite; it was +more likely from an all-glass hypodermic syringe with a +platinum-iridium needle." + +Professor Rapport, priest of the Devil, advanced a step menacingly +toward Kennedy. "Remember," he said in a low, angry tone, +"remember--you are pledged to keep the secrets of the Red Lodge!" + +Craig brushed aside the sophistry with a sentence. "I do not recognize +any secrets that I have to keep about the meeting this afternoon to +which you summoned the Blairs and Mrs. Langhorne, according to reports +from the shadows I had placed on Mrs. Langhorne and Dr. Vaughn." + +If there is such a thing as the evil eye, Rapport's must have been a +pair of them, as he realized that Kennedy had resorted to the simple +devices of shadowing the devotees. + +A cry, almost a shriek, startled us. Kennedy's encounter with Rapport +had had an effect which none of us had considered. The step or two in +advance which the prophet had taken had brought him into the line of +vision of the still half-stupefied Veda lying back of Kennedy on the +hospital cot. + +The mere sight of him, the sound of his voice and the mention of the +Red Lodge had been sufficient to penetrate that stupor. She was sitting +bolt upright, a ghastly, trembling specter. Slowly a smile seemed to +creep over the cruel face of the mystic. Was it not a recognition of +his hypnotic power? + +Kennedy turned and laid a gentle hand on the quaking convulsed figure +of the woman. One could feel the electric tension in the air, the +battle of two powers for good or evil. Which would win--the old +fascination of the occult or the new power of science? + +It was a dramatic moment. Yet not so dramatic as the outcome. To my +surprise, neither won. + +Suddenly she caught sight of her husband. Her face changed. All the +prehistoric jealousy of which woman is capable seemed to blaze forth. + +"I will defend myself!" she cried. "I will fight back! She shall not +win--she shall not have you--no--she shall not--never!" + +I recalled the strained feeling between the two women that I had +noticed in the cab. Was it Mrs. Langhorne who had been the disturbing +influence, whose power she feared, over herself and over her husband? + +Rapport had fallen back a step, but not from the mind of Kennedy. + +"Here," challenged Craig, facing the group and drawing from his pocket +the glass ampoule, "I picked this up at the Red Lodge last night." + +He held it out in his hand before the Rapports so that they could not +help but see it. Were they merely good actors? They betrayed nothing, +at least by face or action. + +"It is crotalin," he announced, "the venom of the rattlesnake--crotalus +horridus. It has been noticed that persons suffering from certain +diseases of which epilepsy is one, after having been bitten by a +rattlesnake, if they recover from the snake bite, are cured of the +disease." + +Kennedy was forging straight ahead now in his exposure. "Crotalin," he +continued, "is one of the new drugs used in the treatment of epilepsy. +But it is a powerful two-edged instrument. Some one who knew the drug, +who perhaps had used it, has tried an artificial bite of a rattler on +Veda Blair, not for epilepsy, but for another, diabolical purpose, +thinking to cover up the crime, either as the result of the so-called +death thought of the Lodge or as the bite of the real rattler at the +Lodge." + +Kennedy had at last got under Dr. Vaughn's guard. All his reticence was +gone. + +"I joined the cult," he confessed. "I did it in order to observe and +treat one of my patients for epilepsy. I justified myself. I said, 'I +will be the exposer, not the accomplice, of this modern Satanism.' I +joined it and--" + +"There is no use trying to shield anyone, Vaughn," rapped out Kennedy, +scarcely taking time to listen. "An epileptic of the most dangerous +criminal type has arranged this whole elaborate setting as a plot to +get rid of the wife who brought him his fortune and now stands in the +way of his unholy love of Mrs. Langhorne. He used you to get the poison +with which you treated him. He used the Rapports with money to play on +her mysticism by their so-called death thought, while he watched his +opportunity to inject the fatal crotalin." + +Craig faced the criminal, whose eyes now showed more plainly than words +his deranged mental condition, and in a low tone added, "The Devil is +in you, Seward Blair!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +THE "HAPPY DUST" + + +Veda Blair's rescue from the strange use that was made of the venom +came at a time when the city was aroused as it never had been before +over the nation-wide agitation against drugs. + +Already, it will be recalled, Kennedy and I had had some recent +experience with dope fiends of various kinds, but this case I set down +because it drew us more intimately into the crusade. + +"I've called on you, Professor Kennedy, to see if I can't interest you +in the campaign I am planning against drugs." + +Mrs. Claydon Sutphen, social leader and suffragist, had scarcely more +than introduced herself when she launched earnestly into the reason for +her visit to us. + +"You don't realize it, perhaps," she continued rapidly, "but very often +a little silver bottle of tablets is as much a necessary to some women +of the smart set as cosmetics." + +"I've heard of such cases," nodded Craig encouragingly. + +"Well, you see I became interested in the subject," she added, "when I +saw some of my own friends going down. That's how I came to plan the +campaign in the first place." + +She paused, evidently nervous. "I've been threatened, too," she went +on, "but I'm not going to give up the fight. People think that drugs +are a curse only to the underworld, but they have no idea what inroads +the habit has made in the upper world, too. Oh, it is awful!" she +exclaimed. + +Suddenly, she leaned over and whispered, "Why, there's my own sister, +Mrs. Garrett. She began taking drugs after an operation, and now they +have a terrible hold on her. I needn't try to conceal anything. It's +all been published in the papers--everybody knows it. Think of +it--divorced, disgraced, all through these cursed drugs! Dr. Coleman, +our family physician, has done everything known to break up the habit, +but he hasn't succeeded." + +Dr. Coleman, I knew, was a famous society physician. If he had failed, +I wondered why she thought a detective might succeed. But it was +evidently another purpose she had in mind in introducing the subject. + +"So you can understand what it all means to me, personally," she +resumed, with a sigh. "I've studied the thing--I've been forced to +study it. Why, now the exploiters are even making drug fiends of +mere--children!" + +Mrs. Sutphen spread out a crumpled sheet of note paper before us on +which was written something in a trembling scrawl. "For instance, +here's a letter I received only yesterday." + +Kennedy glanced over it carefully. It was signed "A Friend," and read: + +"I have heard of your drug war in the newspapers and wish to help you, +only I don't dare to do so openly. But I can assure you that if you +will investigate what I am about to tell you, you will soon be on the +trail of those higher up in this terrible drug business. There is a +little center of the traffic on West 66th Street, just off Broadway. I +cannot tell you more, but if you can investigate it, you will be doing +more good than you can possibly realize now. There is one girl there, +whom they call 'Snowbird.' If you could only get hold of her quietly +and place her in a sanitarium you might save her yet." + +Craig was more than ordinarily interested. "And the children--what did +you mean by that?" + +"Why, it's literally true," asserted Mrs. Sutphen in a horrified tone. +"Some of the victims are actually school children. Up there in 66th +Street we have found a man named Armstrong, who seems to be very +friendly with this young girl whom they call 'Snowbird.' Her real name, +by the way, is Sawtelle, I believe. She can't be over eighteen, a mere +child, yet she's a slave to the stuff." + +"Oh, then you have actually already acted on the hint in the letter?" +asked Craig. + +"Yes," she replied, "I've had one of the agents of our Anti-Drug +Society, a social worker, investigating the neighborhood." + +Kennedy nodded for her to go on. + +"I've even investigated myself a little, and now I want to employ some +one to break the thing up. My husband had heard of you and so here I +am. Can you help me?" + +There was a note of appeal in her voice that was irresistible to a man +who had the heart of Kennedy. + +"Tell me just what you have discovered so far," he asked simply. + +"Well," she replied slowly, "after my agent verified the contents of +the letter, I watched until I saw this girl--she's a mere child, as I +said--going to a cabaret in the neighborhood. What struck me was that I +saw her go in looking like a wreck and come out a beautiful creature, +with bright eyes, flushed cheeks, almost youthful again. A most +remarkable girl she is, too," mused Mrs. Sutphen, "who always wears a +white gown, white hat, white shoes and white stockings. It must be a +mania with her." + +Mrs. Sutphen seemed to have exhausted her small store of information, +and as she rose to go Kennedy rose also. "I shall be glad to look into +the case, Mrs. Sutphen," he promised. "I'm sure there is something that +can be done--there must be." + +"Thank you, ever so much," she murmured, as she paused at the door, +something still on her mind. "And perhaps, too," she added, "you may +run across my sister, Mrs. Garrett." + +"Indeed," he assured her, "if there is anything I can possibly do that +will assist you personally, I shall be only too happy to do it." + +"Thank you again, ever so much," she repeated with just a little choke +in her voice. + +For several moments Kennedy sat contemplating the anonymous letter +which she had left with him, studying both its contents and the +handwriting. + +"We must go over the ground up there again," he remarked finally. +"Perhaps we can do better than Mrs. Sutphen and her drug investigator +have done." + +Half an hour later we had arrived and were sauntering along the street +in question, walking slowly up and down in the now fast-gathering dusk. +It was a typical cheap apartment block of variegated character, with +people sitting idly on the narrow front steps and children spilling out +into the roadway in imminent danger of their young lives from every +passing automobile. + +On the crowded sidewalk a creation in white hurtled past us. One glance +at the tense face in the flickering arc light was enough for Kennedy. +He pulled my arm and we turned and followed at a safe distance. + +She looked like a girl who could not have been more than eighteen, if +she was as old as that. She was pretty, too, but already her face was +beginning to look old and worn from the use of drugs. It was +unmistakable. + +In spite of the fact that she was hurrying, it was not difficult to +follow her in the crowd, as she picked her way in and out, and finally +turned into Broadway where the white lights were welcoming the night. + +Under the glare of a huge electric sign she stopped a moment, then +entered one of the most notorious of the cabarets. + +We entered also at a discreet distance and sat down at a table. + +"Don't look around, Walter," whispered Craig, as the waiter took our +order, "but to your right is Mrs. Sutphen." + +If he had mentioned any other name in the world, I could not have been +more surprised. I waited impatiently until I could pick her out from +the corner of my eye. Sure enough, it was Mrs. Sutphen and another +woman. What they were doing there I could not imagine, for neither had +the look of habitues of such a place. + +I followed Kennedy's eye and found that he was gazing furtively at a +flashily dressed young man who was sitting alone at the far end in a +sort of booth upholstered in leather. + +The girl in white, whom I was now sure was Miss Sawtelle, went over and +greeted him. It was too far to see just what happened, but the young +woman after sitting down rose and left almost immediately. As nearly as +I could make out, she had got something from him which she had dropped +into her handbag and was now hugging the handbag close to herself +almost as if it were gold. + +We sat for a few minutes debating just what to do, when Mrs. Sutphen +and her friend rose. As she passed out, a quick, covert glance told us +to follow. We did so and the two turned into Broadway. + +"Let me present you to Miss McCann," introduced Mrs. Sutphen as we +caught up with them. "Miss McCann is a social worker and trained +investigator whom I'm employing." + +We bowed, but before we could ask a question, Mrs. Sutphen cried +excitedly: "I think I have a clue, anyway. We've traced the source of +the drugs at least as far as that young fellow, 'Whitecap,' whom you +saw in there." + +I had not recognized his face, although I had undoubtedly seen pictures +of him before. But no sooner had I heard the name than I recognized it +as that of one of the most notorious gang leaders on the West Side. + +Not only that, but Whitecap's gang played an important part in local +politics. There was scarcely a form of crime or vice to which Whitecap +and his followers could not turn a skilled hand, whether it was +swinging an election, running a gambling club, or dispensing "dope." + +"You see," she explained, "even before I saw you, my suspicions were +aroused and I determined to obtain some of the stuff they are using up +here, if possible. I realized it would be useless for me to try to get +it myself, so I got Miss McCann from the Neighborhood House to try it. +She got it and has turned the bottle over to me." + +"May I see it?" asked Craig eagerly. + +Mrs. Sutphen reached hastily into her handbag, drew forth a small brown +glass bottle and handed it to him. Craig retreated into one of the less +dark side streets. There he pulled out the paraffinned cork from the +bottle, picked out a piece of cotton stuffed in the neck of the bottle +and poured out some flat tablets that showed a glistening white in the +palm of his hand. For an instant he regarded them. + +"I may keep these?" he asked. + +"Certainly," replied Mrs. Sutphen. "That's what I had Miss McCann get +them for." + +Kennedy dropped the bottle into his pocket. + +"So that was the gang leader, 'Whitecap,'" he remarked as we turned +again to Broadway. + +"Yes," replied Mrs. Sutphen. "At certain hours, I believe he can be +found at that cabaret selling this stuff, whatever it is, to anyone who +comes properly introduced. The thing seems to be so open and notorious +that it amounts to a scandal." + +We parted a moment later, Mrs. Sutphen and Miss McCann to go to the +settlement house, Craig and I to continue our investigations. + +"First of all, Walter," he said as we swung aboard an uptown car, "I +want to stop at the laboratory." + +In his den, which had been the scene of so many triumphs, Kennedy began +a hasty examination of the tablets, powdering one and testing it with +one chemical after another. + +"What are they?" I asked at length when he seemed to have found the +right reaction which gave him the clue. + +"Happy dust," he answered briefly. + +"Happy dust?" I repeated, looking at him a moment in doubt as to +whether he was joking or serious. "What is that?" + +"The Tenderloin name for heroin--a comparatively new derivative of +morphine. It is really morphine treated with acetic acid which renders +it more powerful than morphine alone." + +"How do they take them? What's the effect?" I asked. + +"The person who uses heroin usually powders the tablets and snuffs the +powder up the nose," he answered. "In a short time, perhaps only two or +three weeks, one can become a confirmed victim of 'happy dust.' And +while one is under its influence he is morally, physically and mentally +irresponsible." + +Kennedy was putting away the paraphernalia he had used, meanwhile +talking about the drug. "One of the worst aspects of it, too," he +continued, "is the desire of the user to share his experience with some +one else. This passing on of the habit, which seems to be one of the +strongest desires of the drug fiend, makes him even more dangerous to +society than he would otherwise be. It makes it harder for anyone once +addicted to a drug to shake it off, for his friends will give him no +chance. The only thing to do is to get the victim out of his +environment and into an entirely new scene." + +The laboratory table cleared again, Kennedy had dropped into a deep +study. + +"Now, why was Mrs. Sutphen there?" he asked aloud. "I can't think it +was solely through her interest for that girl they call Snowbird. She +was interested in her, but she made no attempt to interfere or to +follow her. No, there must have been another reason." + +"You don't think she's a dope fiend herself, do you?" I asked hurriedly. + +Kennedy smiled. "Hardly, Walter. If she has any obsession on the +subject, it is more likely to lead her to actual fanaticism against all +stimulants and narcotics and everything connected with them. No, you +might possibly persuade me that two and two equal five--but not +seventeen. It's not very late. I think we might make another visit to +that cabaret and see whether the same thing is going on yet." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +THE BINET TEST + + +We rode downtown again and again sauntered in, this time with the +theater crowd. Our first visit had been so quiet and unostentatious +that the second attracted no attention or comment from the waiters, or +anyone else. + +As we sat down we glanced over, and there in his corner still was +Whitecap. Apparently his supply of the dope was inexhaustible, for he +was still dispensing it. As we watched the tenderloin habitues come and +go, I came soon to recognize the signs by the mere look on the +face--the pasty skin, the vacant eye, the nervous quiver of the muscles +as though every organ and every nerve were crying out for more of the +favorite nepenthe. Time and again I noticed the victims as they sat at +the tables, growing more and more haggard and worn, until they could +stand it no longer. Then they would retire, sometimes after a visit +across the floor to Whitecap, more often directly, for they had stocked +themselves up with the drug evidently after the first visit to him. But +always they would come back, changed in appearance, with what seemed to +be a new lease of life, but nevertheless still as recognizable as drug +victims. + +It was not long, as we waited, before another woman, older than Miss +Sawtelle, but dressed in an extreme fashion, hurried into the cabaret +and with scarcely a look to right or left went directly to Whitecap's +corner. I noticed that she, too, had the look. + +There was a surreptitious passing of a bottle in exchange for a +treasury note, and she dropped into the seat beside him. + +Before he could interfere, she had opened the bottle, crushed a tablet +or two in a napkin, and was holding it to her face as though breathing +the most exquisite perfume. With one quick inspiration of her breath +after another, she was snuffing the powder up her nose. + +Whitecap with an angry gesture pulled the napkin from her face, and one +could fancy his snarl under his breath, "Say--do you want to get me in +wrong here?" + +But it was too late. Some at least of the happy dust had taken effect, +at least enough to relieve the terrible pangs she must have been +suffering. + +As she rose and retired, with a hasty apology to Whitecap for her +indiscretion, Kennedy turned to me and exclaimed, "Think of it. The +deadliest of all habits is the simplest. No hypodermic; no pipe; no +paraphernalia of any kind. It's terrible." + +She returned to sit down and enjoy herself, careful not to obtrude +herself on Whitecap lest he might become angry at the mere sight of her +and treasure his anger up against the next time when she would need the +drug. + +Already there was the most marvelous change in her. She seemed +captivated by the music, the dancing, the life which a few moments +before she had totally disregarded. + +She was seated alone, not far from us, and as she glanced about Kennedy +caught her eye. She allowed her gaze to rest on us for a moment, the +signal for a mild flirtation which ended in our exchange of tables and +we found ourselves opposite the drug fiend, who was following up the +taking of the dope by a thin-stemmed glass of a liqueur. + +I do not recall the conversation, but it was one of those +inconsequential talks that Bohemians consider so brilliant and +everybody else so vapid. As we skimmed from one subject to another, +treating the big facts of life as if they were mere incidents and the +little as if they overshadowed all else, I could see that Craig, who +had a faculty of probing into the very soul of anyone, when he chose, +was gradually leading around to a subject which I knew he wanted, above +all others, to discuss. + +It was not long before, as the most natural remark in the world +following something he had made her say, just as a clever +prestidigitator forces a card, he asked, "What was it I saw you +snuffing over in the booth--happy dust?" + +She did not even take the trouble to deny it, but nodded a brazen +"Yes." "How did you come to use it first?" he asked, careful not to +give offense in either tone or manner. + +"The usual way, I suppose," she replied with a laugh that sounded harsh +and grating. "I was ill and I found out what it was the doctor was +giving me." + +"And then?" + +"Oh, I thought I would use it only as long as it served my purpose and, +when that was over, give it up." + +"But--?" prompted Craig hypnotically. + +"Instead, I was soon using six, eight, ten tablets of heroin a day. I +found that I needed that amount in order to live. Then it went up by +leaps to twenty, thirty, forty." + +"Suppose you couldn't get it, what then?" + +"Couldn't get it?" she repeated with an unspeakable horror. "Once I +thought I'd try to stop. But my heart skipped beats; then it seemed to +pound away, as if trying to break through my ribs. I don't think heroin +is like other drugs. When one has her 'coke'--that's cocaine--taken +away, she feels like a rag. Fill her up and she can do anything again. +But, heroin--I think one might murder to get it!" + +The expression on the woman's face was almost tragic. I verily believe +that she meant it. + +"Why," she cried, "if anyone had told me a year ago that the time would +ever come when I would value some tiny white tablets above anything +else in the world, yes, and even above my immortal soul, I would have +thought him a lunatic." + +It was getting late, and as the woman showed no disposition to leave, +Kennedy and I excused ourselves. + +Outside Craig looked at me keenly. "Can you guess who that was?" + +"Although she didn't tell us her name," I replied, "I am morally +certain that it was Mrs. Garrett." + +"Precisely," he answered, "and what a shame, too, for she must +evidently once have been a woman of great education and refinement." + +He shook his head sadly. "Walter, there isn't likely to be anything +that we can do for some hours now. I have a little experiment I'd like +to make. Suppose you publish for me a story in the Star about the +campaign against drugs. Tell about what we have seen to-night, mention +the cabaret by indirection and Whitecap directly. Then we can sit back +and see what happens. We've got to throw a scare into them somehow, if +we are going to smoke out anyone higher up than Whitecap. But you'll +have to be careful, for if they suspect us our usefulness in the case +will be over." + +Together, Kennedy and I worked over our story far into the night down +at the Star office, and the following day waited to see whether +anything came of it. + +It was with a great deal of interest tempered by fear that we dropped +into the cabaret the following evening. Fortunately no one suspected +us. In fact, having been there the night before, we had established +ourselves, as it were, and were welcomed as old patrons and good +spenders. + +I noticed, however, that Whitecap was not there. The story had been +read by such of the dope fiends as had not fallen too far to keep +abreast of the times and these and the waiters were busy quietly +warning off a line of haggard-eyed, disappointed patrons who came +around, as usual. + +Some of them were so obviously dependent on Whitecap that I almost +regretted having written the story, for they must have been suffering +the tortures of the damned. + +It was in the midst of a reverie of this sort that a low exclamation +from Kennedy recalled my attention. There was Snowbird with a man +considerably older than herself. They had just come in and were looking +about frantically for Whitecap. But Whitecap had been too frightened by +the story in the Star to sell any more of the magic happy dust openly +in the cabaret, at least. + +The pair, nerve-racked and exhausted, sat down mournfully in a seat +near us, and as they talked earnestly in low tones we had an excellent +opportunity for studying Armstrong for the first time. + +He was not a bad-looking man, or even a weak one. In back of the +dissipation of the drugs one fancied he could read the story of a +brilliant life wrecked. But there was little left to admire or respect. +As the couple talked earnestly, the one so old, the other so young in +vice, I had to keep a tight rein on myself to prevent my sympathy for +the wretched girl getting the better of common sense and kicking the +older man out of doors. + +Finally Armstrong rose to go, with a final imploring glance from the +girl. Obviously she had persuaded him to forage about to secure the +heroin, by hook or crook, now that the accustomed source of supply was +cut off so suddenly. + +It was also really our first chance to study the girl carefully under +the light, for her entrance and exit the night before had been so +hurried that we had seen comparatively little of her. Craig was +watching her narrowly. Not only were the effects of the drug plainly +evident on her face, but it was apparent that the snuffing the powdered +tablets was destroying the bones in her nose, through shrinkage of the +blood vessels, as well as undermining the nervous system and causing +the brain to totter. + +I was wondering whether Armstrong knew of any depot for the secret +distribution of the drug. I could not believe that Whitecap was either +the chief distributer or the financial head of the illegal traffic. I +wondered who indeed was the man higher up. Was he an importer of the +drug, or was he the representative of some chemical company not averse +to making an illegal dollar now and then by dragging down his fellow +man? + +Kennedy and I were trying to act as if we were enjoying the cabaret +show and not too much interested in the little drama that was being +acted before us. I think little Miss Sawtelle noticed, however, that we +were looking often her way. I was amazed, too, on studying her more +closely to find that there was something indefinably queer about her, +aside from the marked effect of the drugs she had been taking. What it +was I was at a loss to determine, but I felt sure from the expression +on Kennedy's face that he had noticed it also. + +I was on the point of asking him if he, too, observed anything queer in +the girl, when Armstrong hurried in and handed her a small package, +then almost without a word stalked out again, evidently as much to +Snowbird's surprise as to our own. + +She had literally seized the package, as though she were drowning and +grasping at a life buoy. Even the surprise at his hasty departure could +not prevent her, however, from literally tearing the wrapper off, and +in the sheltering shadow of the table cloth pouring forth the little +white pellets in her lap, counting them as a miser counts his gold, + +"The old thief!" she exclaimed aloud. "He's held out twenty-five!" + +I don't know which it was that amazed me most, the almost childish +petulance and ungovernable temper of the girl which made her cry out in +spite of her surroundings and the circumstances, or the petty rapacity +of the man who could stoop to such a low level as to rob her in this +seeming underhand manner. + +There was no time for useless repining now. The call of outraged nature +for its daily and hourly quota of poison was too imperative. She dumped +the pellets back into the bottle hastily, and disappeared. + +When she came back, it was with that expression I had come to know so +well. At least for a few hours there was a respite for her from the +terrific pangs she had been suffering. She was almost happy, smiling. +Even that false happiness, I felt, was superior to Armstrong's moral +sense blunted by drugs. I had begun to realize how lying, stealing, +crimes of all sorts might be laid at the door of this great evil. + +In her haste to get where she could snuff the heroin she had forgotten +a light wrap lying on her chair. As she returned for it, it fell to the +floor. Instantly Kennedy was on his feet, bending over to pick it up. + +She thanked him, and the smile lingered a moment on her face. It was +enough. It gave Kennedy the chance to pursue a conversation, and in the +free and easy atmosphere of the cabaret to invite her to sit over at +our table. + +At least all her nervousness was gone and she chatted vivaciously. +Kennedy said little. He was too busy watching her. It was quite the +opposite of the case of Mrs. Garrett. Yet I was at a loss to define +what it was that I sensed. + +Still the minutes sped past and we seemed to be getting on famously. +Unlike his action in the case of the older woman where he had been +sounding the depths of her heart and mind, in this case his idea seemed +to be to allow the childish prattle to come out and perhaps explain +itself. + +However, at the end of half an hour when we seemed to be getting no +further along, Kennedy did not protest at her desire to leave us, "to +keep a date," as she expressed it. + +"Waiter, the check, please," ordered Kennedy leisurely. + +When he received it, he seemed to be in no great hurry to pay it, but +went over one item after another, then added up the footing again. + +"Strange how some of these waiters grow rich?" Craig remarked finally +with a gay smile. + +The idea of waiters and money quickly brought some petty reminiscences +to her mind. While she was still talking, Craig casually pulled a +pencil out of his pocket and scribbled some figures on the back of the +waiter's check. + +From where I was sitting beside him, I could see that he had written +some figures similar to the following: + +5183 47395 654726 2964375 47293815 924738651 2146073859 + +"Here's a stunt," he remarked, breaking into the conversation at a +convenient point. "Can you repeat these numbers after me?" + +Without waiting for her to make excuse, he said quickly "5183." "5183," +she repeated mechanically. + +"47395," came in rapid succession, to which she replied, perhaps a +little slower than before, + +"47395." + +"Now, 654726," he said. + +"654726," she repeated, I thought with some hesitation. + +"Again, 2964375," he shot out. + +"269," she hesitated, "73--" she stopped. + +It was evident that she had reached the limit. + +Kennedy smiled, paid the check and we parted at the door. + +"What was all that rigmarole?" I inquired as the white figure +disappeared down the street. + +"Part of the Binet test, seeing how many digits one can remember. An +adult ought to remember from eight to ten, in any order. But she has +the mentality of a child. That is the queer thing about her. +Chronologically she may be eighteen years or so old. Mentally she is +scarcely more than eight. Mrs. Sutphen was right. They have made a +fiend out of a mere child--a defective who never had a chance against +them." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +THE LIE DETECTOR + + +As the horror of it all dawned on me, I hated Armstrong worse than +ever, hated Whitecap, hated the man higher up, whoever he might be, who +was enriching himself out of the defective, as well as the weakling, +and the vicious--all three typified by Snowbird, Armstrong and Whitecap. + +Having no other place to go, pending further developments of the +publicity we had given the drug war in the Star, Kennedy and I decided +on a walk home in the bracing night air. + +We had scarcely entered the apartment when the hall boy called to us +frantically: "Some one's been trying to get you all over town, +Professor Kennedy. Here's the message. I wrote it down. An attempt has +been made to poison Mrs. Sutphen. They said at the other end of the +line that you'd know." + +We faced each other aghast. + +"My God!" exclaimed Kennedy. "Has that been the effect of our story, +Walter? Instead of smoking out anyone--we've almost killed some one." + +As fast as a cab could whisk us around to Mrs. Sutphen's we hurried. + +"I warned her that if she mixed up in any such fight as this she might +expect almost anything," remarked Mr. Sutphen nervously, as he met us +in the reception room. "She's all right, now, I guess, but if it hadn't +been for the prompt work of the ambulance surgeon I sent for, Dr. +Coleman says she would have died in fifteen minutes." + +"How did it happen?" asked Craig. + +"Why, she usually drinks a glass of vichy and milk before retiring," +replied Mr. Sutphen. "We don't know yet whether it was the vichy or the +milk that was poisoned, but Dr. Coleman thinks it was chloral in one or +the other, and so did the ambulance surgeon. I tell you I was scared. I +tried to get Coleman, but he was out on a case, and I happened to think +of the hospitals as probably the quickest. Dr. Coleman came in just as +the young surgeon was bringing her around. He--oh, here he is now." + +The famous doctor was just coming downstairs. He saw us, but, I +suppose, inasmuch as we did not belong to the Sutphen and Coleman set, +ignored us. "Mrs. Sutphen will be all right now," he said reassuringly +as he drew on his gloves. "The nurse has arrived, and I have given her +instructions what to do. And, by the way, my dear Sutphen, I should +advise you to deal firmly with her in that matter about which her name +is appearing in the papers. Women nowadays don't seem to realize the +dangers they run in mixing in in all these reforms. I have ordered an +analysis of both the milk and vichy, but that will do little good +unless we can find out who poisoned it. And there are so many chances +for things like that, life is so complex nowadays--" + +He passed out with scarcely a nod at us. Kennedy did not attempt to +question him. He was thinking rapidly. + +"Walter, we have no time to lose," he exclaimed, seizing a telephone +that stood on a stand near by. "This is the time for action. +Hello--Police Headquarters, First Deputy O'Connor, please." + +As Kennedy waited I tried to figure out how it could have happened. I +wondered whether it might not have been Mrs. Garrett. Would she stop at +anything if she feared the loss of her favorite drug? But then there +were so many others and so many ways of "getting" anybody who +interfered with the drug traffic that it seemed impossible to figure it +out by pure deduction. + +"Hello, O'Connor," I heard Kennedy say; "you read that story in the +Star this morning about the drug fiends at that Broadway cabaret? Yes? +Well, Jameson and I wrote it. It's part of the drug war that Mrs. +Sutphen has been waging. O'Connor, she's been poisoned--oh, no--she's +all right now. But I want you to send out and arrest Whitecap and that +fellow Armstrong immediately. I'm going to put them through a +scientific third degree up in the laboratory to-night. Thank you. +No--no matter how late it is, bring them up." + +Dr. Coleman had gone long since, Mr. Sutphen had absolutely no interest +further than the recovery of Mrs. Sutphen just now, and Mrs. Sutphen +was resting quietly and could not be seen. Accordingly Kennedy and I +hastened up to the laboratory to wait until O'Connor could "deliver the +goods." + +It was not long before one of O'Connor's men came in with Whitecap. + +"While we're waiting," said Craig, "I wish you would just try this +little cut-out puzzle." + +I don't know what Whitecap thought, but I know I looked at Craig's +invitation to "play blocks" as a joke scarcely higher in order than the +number repetition of Snowbird. Whitecap did it, however, sullenly, and +under compulsion, in, I should say about two minutes. + +"I have Armstrong here myself," called out the voice of our old friend +O'Connor, as he burst into the room. + +"Good!" exclaimed Kennedy. "I shall be ready for him in just a second. +Have Whitecap held here in the anteroom while you bring Armstrong into +the laboratory. By the way, Walter, that was another of the Binet +tests, putting a man at solving puzzles. It involves reflective +judgment, one of the factors in executive ability. If Whitecap had been +defective, it would have taken him five minutes to do that puzzle, if +at all. So you see he is not in the class with Miss Sawtelle. The test +shows him to be shrewd. He doesn't even touch his own dope. Now for +Armstrong." + +I knew enough of the underworld to set Whitecap down, however, as a +"lobbygow"--an agent for some one higher up, recruiting both the gangs +and the ranks of street women. + +Before us, as O'Connor led in Armstrong, was a little machine with a +big black cylinder. By means of wires and electrodes Kennedy attached +it to Armstrong's chest. + +"Now, Armstrong," he began in an even tone, "I want you to tell the +truth--the whole truth. You have been getting heroin tablets from +Whitecap." + +"Yes, sir," replied the dope fiend defiantly. + +"To-day you had to get them elsewhere." + +No answer. + +"Never mind," persisted Kennedy, still calm, "I know. Why, Armstrong, +you even robbed that girl of twenty-five tablets." + +"I did not," shot out the answer. + +"There were twenty-five short," accused Kennedy. + +The two faced each other. Craig repeated his remark. + +"Yes," replied Armstrong, "I held out the tablets, but it was not for +myself, I can get all I want. I did it because I didn't want her to get +above seventy-five a day. I have tried every way to break her of the +habit that has got me--and failed. But seventy-five--is the limit!" + +"A pretty story!" exclaimed O'Connor. + +Craig laid his hand on his arm to check him, as he examined a record +registered on the cylinder of the machine. + +"By the way, Armstrong, I want you to write me out a note that I can +use to get a hundred heroin tablets. You can write it all but the name +of the place where I can get them." + +Armstrong was on the point of demurring, but the last sentence +reassured him. He would reveal nothing by it--yet. + +Still the man was trembling like a leaf. He wrote: + +"Give Whitecap one hundred shocks--A Victim." + +For a moment Kennedy studied the note carefully. "Oh--er--I forgot, +Armstrong, but a few days ago an anonymous letter was sent to Mrs. +Sutphen, signed 'A Friend.' Do you know anything about it?" + +"A note?" the man repeated. "Mrs. Sutphen? I don't know anything about +any note, or Mrs. Sutphen either." + +Kennedy was still studying his record. "This," he remarked slowly, "is +what I call my psychophysical test for falsehood. Lying, when it is +practiced by an expert, is not easily detected by the most careful +scrutiny of the liar's appearance and manner. + +"However, successful means have been developed for the detection of +falsehood by the study of experimental psychology. Walter, I think you +will recall the test I used once, the psychophysical factor of the +character and rapidity of the mental process known as the association +of ideas?" + +I nodded acquiescence. + +"Well," he resumed, "in criminal jurisprudence, I find an even more +simple and more subjective test which has been recently devised. +Professor Stoerring of Bonn has found out that feelings of pleasure and +pain produce well-defined changes in respiration. Similar effects are +produced by lying, according to the famous Professor Benussi of Graz. + +"These effects are unerring, unequivocal. The utterance of a false +statement increases respiration; of a true statement decreases. The +importance and scope of these discoveries are obvious." + +Craig was figuring rapidly on a piece of paper. "This is a certain and +objective criterion," he continued as he figured, "between truth and +falsehood. Even when a clever liar endeavors to escape detection by +breathing irregularly, it is likely to fail, for Benussi has +investigated and found that voluntary changes in respiration don't +alter the result. You see, the quotient obtained by dividing the time +of inspiration by the time of expiration gives me the result." + +He looked up suddenly. "Armstrong, you are telling the truth about some +things--downright lies about others. You are a drug fiend--but I will +be lenient with you, for one reason. Contrary to everything that I +would have expected, you are really trying to save that poor +half-witted girl whom you love from the terrible habit that has gripped +you. That is why you held out the quarter of the one hundred tablets. +That is why you wrote the note to Mrs. Sutphen, hoping that she might +be treated in some institution." + +Kennedy paused as a look of incredulity passed over Armstrong's face. + +"Another thing you said was true," added Kennedy. "You can get all the +heroin you want. Armstrong, you will put the address of that place on +the outside of the note, or both you and Whitecap go to jail. Snowbird +will be left to her own devices--she can get all the 'snow,' as some of +you fiends call it, that she wants from those who might exploit her." + +"Please, Mr. Kennedy," pleaded Armstrong. + +"No," interrupted Craig, before the drug fiend could finish. "That is +final. I must have the name of that place." + +In a shaky hand Armstrong wrote again. Hastily Craig stuffed the note +into his pocket, and ten minutes later we were mounting the steps of a +big brownstone house on a fashionable side street just around the +corner from Fifth Avenue. + +As the door was opened by an obsequious colored servant, Craig handed +him the scrap of paper signed by the password, "A Victim." + +Imitating the cough of a confirmed dope user, Craig was led into a +large waiting room. + +"You're in pretty bad shape, sah," commented the servant. + +Kennedy nudged me and, taking the cue, I coughed myself red in the face. + +"Yes," he said. "Hurry--please." + +The servant knocked at a door, and as it was opened we caught a glimpse +of Mrs. Garrett in negligee. + +"What is it, Sam?" she asked. + +"Two gentlemen for some heroin tablets, ma'am." + +"Tell them to go to the chemical works--not to my office, Sam," growled +a man's voice inside. + +With a quick motion, Kennedy had Mrs. Garrett by the wrist. + +"I knew it," he ground out. "It was all a fake about how you got the +habit. You wanted to get it, so you could get and hold him. And neither +one of you would stop at anything, not even the murder of your sister, +to prevent the ruin of the devilish business you have built up in +manufacturing and marketing the stuff." + +He pulled the note from the hand of the surprised negro. "I had the +right address, the place where you sell hundreds of ounces of the stuff +a week--but I preferred to come to the doctor's office where I could +find you both." + +Kennedy had firmly twisted her wrist until, with a little scream of +pain, she let go the door handle. Then he gently pushed her aside, and +the next instant Craig had his hand inside the collar of Dr. Coleman, +society physician, proprietor of the Coleman Chemical Works downtown, +the real leader of the drug gang that was debauching whole sections of +the metropolis. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +THE FAMILY SKELETON + + +Surprised though we were at the unmasking of Dr. Coleman, there was +nothing to do but to follow the thing out. In such cases we usually ran +into the greatest difficulty--organized vice. This was no exception. + +Even when cases involved only a clever individual or a prominent +family, it was the same. I recall, for example, the case of a +well-known family in a New York suburb, which was particularly +difficult. It began in a rather unusual manner, too. + +"Mr. Kennedy--I am ruined--ruined." + +It was early one morning that the telephone rang and I answered it. A +very excited German, breathless and incoherent, was evidently at the +other end of the wire. + +I handed the receiver to Craig and picked up the morning paper lying on +the table. + +"Minturn--dead?" I heard Craig exclaim. "In the paper this morning? +I'll be down to see you directly." + +Kennedy almost tore the paper from me. In the next to the end column +where late news usually is dropped was a brief account of the sudden +death of Owen Minturn, one of the foremost criminal lawyers of the +city, in Josephson's Baths downtown. + +It ended: "It is believed by the coroner that Mr. Minturn was shocked +to death and evidence is being sought to show that two hundred and +forty volts of electricity had been thrown into the attorney's body +while he was in the electric bath. Joseph Josephson, the proprietor of +the bath, who operated the switchboard, is being held, pending the +completion of the inquiry." + +As Kennedy hastily ran his eye over the paragraphs, he became more and +more excited himself. + +"Walter," he cried, as he finished, "I don't believe that that was an +accident at all." + +"Why?" I asked. + +He already had his hat on, and I knew he was going to Josephson's +breakfastless. I followed reluctantly. + +"Because," he answered, as we hustled along in the early morning crowd, +"it was only yesterday afternoon that I saw Minturn at his office and +he made an appointment with me for this very morning. He was a very +secretive man, but he did tell me this much, that he feared his life +was in danger and that it was in some way connected with that Pearcy +case up in Stratfield, Connecticut, where he has an estate. You have +read of the case?" + +Indeed I had. It had seemed to me to be a particularly inexplicable +affair. Apparently a whole family had been poisoned and a few days +before old Mr. Randall Pearcy, a retired manufacturer, had died after a +brief but mysterious illness. + +Pearcy had been married a year or so ago to Annette Oakleigh, a +Broadway comic opera singer, who was his second wife. By his first +marriage he had had two children, a son, Warner, and a daughter, Isabel. + +Warner Pearcy, I had heard, had blazed a vermilion trail along the +Great White Way, but his sister was of the opposite temperament, +interested in social work, and had attracted much attention by +organizing a settlement in the slums of Stratfield for the uplift of +the workers in the Pearcy and other mills. + +Broadway, as well as Stratfield, had already woven a fantastic +background, for the mystery and hints had been broadly made that +Annette Oakleigh had been indiscreetly intimate with a young physician +in the town, a Dr. Gunther, a friend, by the way, of Minturn. "There +has been no trial yet," went on Kennedy, "but Minturn seems to have +appeared before the coroner's jury at Stratfield and to have asserted +the innocence of Mrs. Pearcy and that of Dr. Gunther so well that, +although the jury brought in a verdict of murder by poison by some one +unknown, there has been no mention of the name of anyone else. The +coroner simply adjourned the inquest so that a more careful analysis +might be made of the vital organs. And now comes this second tragedy in +New York." + +"What was the poison?" I asked. "Have they found out yet?" + +"They are pretty sure, so Minturn told me, that it was lead poisoning. +The fact not generally known is," he added in a lower tone, "that the +cases were not confined to the Pearcy house. They had even extended to +Minturn's too, although about that he said little yesterday. The +estates up there adjoin, you know." + +Owen Minturn, I recalled, had gained a formidable reputation by his +successful handling of cases from the lowest strata of society to the +highest. Indeed it was a byword that his appearance in court indicated +two things--the guilt of the accused and a verdict of acquittal. + +"Of course," Craig pursued as we were jolted from station to station +downtown, "you know they say that Minturn never kept a record of a +case. But written records were as nothing compared to what that man +must have carried only in his head." + +It was a common saying that, if Minturn should tell all he knew, he +might hang half a dozen prominent men in society. That was not strictly +true, perhaps, but it was certain that a revelation of the things +confided to him by clients which were never put down on paper would +have caused a series of explosions that would have wrecked at least +some portions of the social and financial world. He had heard much and +told little, for he had been a sort of "father confessor." + +Had Minturn, I wondered, known the name of the real criminal? + +Josephson's was a popular bath on Forty-second Street, where many of +the "sun-dodgers" were accustomed to recuperate during the day from +their arduous pursuit of pleasure at night and prepare for the +resumption of their toil during the coming night. It was more than +that, however, for it had a reputation for being conducted really on a +high plane. + +We met Josephson downstairs. He had been released under bail, though +the place was temporarily closed and watched over by the agents of the +coroner and the police. Josephson appeared to be a man of some +education and quite different from what I had imagined from hearing him +over the telephone. + +"Oh, Mr. Kennedy," he exclaimed, "who now will come to my baths? Last +night they were crowded, but to-day--" + +He ended with an expressive gesture of his hands. + +"One customer I have surely lost, young Mr. Pearcy," he went on. + +"Warner Pearcy?" asked Craig. "Was he here last night?" + +"Nearly every night," replied Josephson, now glib enough as his first +excitement subsided and his command of English returned. "He was a +neighbor of Mr. Minturn's, I hear. Oh, what luck!" growled Josephson as +the name recalled him to his present troubles. + +"Well," remarked Kennedy with an attempt at reassurance as if to gain +the masseur's confidence, "I know as well as you that it is often +amazing what a tremendous shock a man may receive and yet not be +killed, and no less amazing how small a shock may kill. It all depends +on circumstances." + +Josephson shot a covert look at Kennedy. "Yes," he reiterated, "but I +cannot see how it COULD be. If the lights had become short-circuited +with the bath, that might have thrown a current into the bath. But they +were not. I know it." + +"Still," pursued Kennedy, watching him keenly, "it is not all a +question of current. To kill, the shock must pass through a vital +organ--the brain, the heart, the upper spinal cord. So, a small shock +may kill and a large one may not. If it passes in one foot and out by +the other, the current isn't likely to be as dangerous as if it passes +in by a hand or foot and then out by a foot or hand. In one case it +passes through no vital organ; in the other it is very likely to do so. +You see, the current can flow through the body only when it has a place +of entrance and a place of exit. In all cases of accident from electric +light wires, the victim is touching some conductor--damp earth, salty +earth, water, something that gives the current an outlet and--" + +"But even if the lights had been short-circuited," interrupted +Josephson, "Mr. Minturn would have escaped injury unless he had touched +the taps of the bath. Oh, no, sir, accidents in the medical use of +electricity are rare. They don't happen here in my establishment," he +maintained stoutly. "The trouble was that the coroner, without any +knowledge of the physiological effects of electricity on the body, +simply jumped at once to the conclusion that it was the electric bath +that did it." + +"Then it was for medical treatment that Mr. Minturn was taking the +bath?" asked Kennedy, quickly taking up the point. + +"Yes, of course," answered the masseur, eager to explain. "You are +acquainted with the latest treatment for lead poisoning by means of the +electric bath?" + +Kennedy nodded. "I know that Sir Thomas Oliver, the English authority +who has written much on dangerous trades, has tried it with marked +success." + +"Well, sir, that was why Mr. Minturn was here. He came here introduced +by a Dr. Gunther of Stratfield." + +"Indeed?" remarked Kennedy colorlessly, though I could see that it +interested him, for evidently Minturn had said nothing of being himself +a sufferer from the poison. "May I see the bath?" + +"Surely," said Josephson, leading the way upstairs. + +It was an oaken tub with metal rods on the two long sides, from which +depended prismatic carbon rods. Kennedy examined it closely. + +"This is what we call a hydro-electric bath," Josephson explained. +"Those rods on the sides are the electrodes. You see there are no metal +parts in the tub itself. The rods are attached by wiring to a wall +switch out here." + +He pointed to the next room. Kennedy examined the switch with care. + +"From it," went on Josephson, "wires lead to an accumulator battery of +perhaps thirty volts. It uses very little current. Dr. Gunther tested +it and found it all right." + +Craig leaned over the bath, and from the carbon electrodes scraped off +a white powder in minute crystals. + +"Ordinarily," Josephson pursued, "lead is eliminated by the skin and +kidneys. But now, as you know, it is being helped along by +electrolysis. I talked to Dr. Gunther about it. It is his opinion that +it is probably eliminated as a chloride from the tissues of the body to +the electrodes in the bath in which the patient is wholly or partly +immersed. On the positive electrodes we get the peroxide. On the +negative there is a spongy metallic form of lead. But it is only a +small amount." + +"The body has been removed?" asked Craig. + +"Not yet," the masseur replied. "The coroner has ordered it kept here +under guard until he makes up his mind what disposition to have made of +it." + +We were next ushered into a little room on the same floor, at the door +of which was posted an official from the coroner. + +"First of all," remarked Craig, as he drew back the sheet and began, a +minute examination of the earthly remains of the great lawyer, "there +are to be considered the safeguards of the human body against the +passage through it of a fatal electric current--the high electric +resistance of the body itself. It is particularly high when the current +must pass through joints such as wrists, knees, elbows, and quite high +when the bones of the head are concerned. Still, there might have been +an incautious application of the current to the head, especially when +the subject is a person of advanced age or latent cerebral disease, +though I don't know that that fits Mr. Minturn. That's strange," he +muttered, looking up, puzzled. "I can find no mark of a burn on the +body--absolutely no mark of anything." + +"That's what I say," put in Josephson, much pleased by what Kennedy +said, for he had been waiting anxiously to see what Craig discovered on +his own examination. "It's impossible." + +"It's all the more remarkable," went on Craig, half to himself and +ignoring Josephson, "because burns due to electric currents are totally +unlike those produced in other ways. They occur at the point of +contact, usually about the arms and hands, or the head. Electricity is +much to be feared when it involves the cranial cavity." He completed +his examination of the head which once had carried secrets which +themselves must have been incandescent. + +"Then, too, such burns are most often something more than superficial, +for considerable heat is developed which leads to massive destruction +and carbonization of the tissues to a considerable depth. I have seen +actual losses of substance--a lump of killed flesh surrounded by +healthy tissues. Besides, such burns show an unexpected indolence when +compared to the violent pains of ordinary burns. Perhaps that is due to +the destruction of the nerve endings. How did Minturn die? Was he +alone? Was he dead when he was discovered?" + +"He was alone," replied Josephson, slowly endeavoring to tell it +exactly as he had seen it, "but that's the strange part of it. He +seemed to be suffering from a convulsion. I think he complained at +first of a feeling of tightness of his throat and a twitching of the +muscles of his hands and feet. Anyhow, he called for help. I was up +here and we rushed in. Dr. Gunther had just brought him and then had +gone away, after introducing him, and showing him the bath." + +Josephson proceeded slowly, evidently having been warned that anything +he said might be used against him. "We carried him, when he was this +way, into this very room. But it was only for a short time. Then came a +violent convulsion. It seemed to extend rapidly all over his body. His +legs were rigid, his feet bent, his head back. Why, he was resting only +on his heels and the back of his head. You see, Mr. Kennedy, that +simply could not be the electric shock." + +"Hardly," commented Kennedy, looking again at the body. "It looks more +like a tetanus convulsion. Yet there does not seem to be any trace of a +recent wound that might have caused lockjaw. How did he look?" + +"Oh, his face finally became livid," replied Josephson. "He had a +ghastly, grinning expression, his eyes were wide, there was foam on his +mouth, and his breathing was difficult." + +"Not like tetanus, either," revised Craig. "There the convulsion +usually begins with the face and progresses to the other muscles. Here +it seems to have gone the other way." + +"That lasted a minute or so," resumed the masseur. "Then he sank +back--perfectly limp. I thought he was dead. But he was not. A cold +sweat broke out all over him and he was as if in a deep sleep." + +"What did you do?" prompted Kennedy. + +"I didn't know what to do. I called an ambulance. But the moment the +door opened, his body seemed to stiffen again. He had one other +convulsion--and when he grew limp he was dead." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +THE LEAD POISONER + + +It was a gruesome recital and I was glad to leave the baths finally +with Kennedy. Josephson was quite evidently relieved at the attitude +Craig had taken toward the coroner's conclusion that Minturn had been +shocked to death. As far as I could see, however, it added to rather +than cleared up the mystery. + +Craig went directly uptown to his laboratory, in contrast with our +journey down, in abstracted silence, which was his manner when he was +trying to reason out some particularly knotty problem. + +As Kennedy placed the white crystals which he had scraped off the +electrodes of the tub on a piece of dark paper in the laboratory, he +wet the tip of his finger and touched just the minutest grain to his +tongue. + +The look on his face told me that something unexpected had happened. He +held a similar minute speck of the powder out to me. + +It was an intensely bitter taste and very persistent, for even after we +had rinsed out our mouths it seemed to remain, clinging persistently to +the tongue. + +He placed some of the grains in some pure water. They dissolved only +slightly, if at all. But in a tube in which he mixed a little ether and +chloroform they dissolved fairly readily. + +Next, without a word, he poured just a drop of strong sulphuric acid on +the crystals. There was not a change in them. + +Quickly he reached up into the rack and took down a bottle labeled +"Potassium Bichromate." + +"Let us see what an oxidizing agent will do," he remarked. + +As he gently added the bichromate, there came a most marvelous, +kaleidoscopic change. From being almost colorless, the crystals turned +instantly to a deep blue, then rapidly to purple, lilac, red, and then +the red slowly faded away and they became colorless again. + +"What is it?" I asked, fascinated. "Lead?" + +"N-no," he replied, the lines of his forehead deepening. "No. This is +sulphate of strychnine." + +"Sulphate of strychnine?" I repeated in astonishment. + +"Yes," he reiterated slowly. "I might have suspected that from the +convulsions, particularly when Josephson said that the noise and +excitement of the arrival of the ambulance brought on the fatal +paroxysm. That is symptomatic. But I didn't fully realize it until I +got up here and tasted the stuff. Then I suspected, for that taste is +characteristic. Even one part diluted seventy thousand times gives that +decided bitter taste." + +"That's all very well," I remarked, recalling the intense bitterness +yet on my tongue. "But how do you suppose it was possible for anyone to +administer it? It seems to me that he would have said something, if he +had swallowed even the minutest part of it. He must have known it. Yet +apparently he didn't. At least he said nothing about it--or else +Josephson is concealing something." + +"Did he swallow it--necessarily?" queried Kennedy, in a tone calculated +to show me that the chemical world, at least, was full of a number of +things, and there was much to learn. + +"Well, I suppose if it had been given hypodermically, it would have a +more violent effect," I persisted, trying to figure out a way that the +poison might have been given. + +"Even more unlikely," objected Craig, with a delight at discovering a +new mystery that to me seemed almost fiendish. "No, he would certainly +have felt a needle, have cried out and said something about it, if +anyone had tried that. This poisoned needle business isn't as easy as +some people seem to think nowadays." + +"Then he might have absorbed it from the water," I insisted, recalling +a recent case of Kennedy's and adding, "by osmosis." + +"You saw how difficult it was to dissolve in water," Craig rejected +quietly. + +"Well, then," I concluded in desperation. "How could it have been +introduced?" + +"I have a theory," was all he would say, reaching for the railway +guide, "but it will take me up to Stratfield to prove it." + +His plan gave us a little respite and we paused long enough to lunch, +for which breathing space I was duly thankful. The forenoon saw us on +the train, Kennedy carrying a large and cumbersome package which he +brought down with him from the laboratory and which we took turns in +carrying, though he gave no hint of its contents. + +We arrived in Stratfield, a very pretty little mill town, in the middle +of the afternoon, and with very little trouble were directed to the +Pearcy house, after Kennedy had checked the parcel with the station +agent. + +Mrs. Pearcy, to whom we introduced ourselves as reporters of the Star, +was a tall blonde. I could not help thinking that she made a +particularly dashing widow. With her at the time was Isabel Pearcy, a +slender girl whose sensitive lips and large, earnest eyes indicated a +fine, high-strung nature. + +Even before we had introduced ourselves, I could not help thinking that +there was a sort of hostility between the women. Certainly it was +evident that there was as much difference in temperament as between the +butterfly and the bee. + +"No," replied the elder woman quickly to a request from Kennedy for an +interview, "there is nothing that I care to say to the newspapers. They +have said too much already about this--unfortunate affair." + +Whether it was imagination or not, I fancied that there was an air of +reserve about both women. It struck me as a most peculiar household. +What was it? Was each suspicious of the other? Was each concealing +something? + +I managed to steal a glance at Kennedy's face to see whether there was +anything to confirm my own impression. He was watching Mrs. Pearcy +closely as she spoke. In fact his next few questions, inconsequential +as they were, seemed addressed to her solely for the purpose of getting +her to speak. + +I followed his eyes and found that he was watching her mouth, in +reality. As she answered I noted her beautiful white teeth. Kennedy +himself had trained me to notice small things, and at the time, though +I thought it was trivial, I recall noticing on her gums, where they +joined the teeth, a peculiar bluish-black line. + +Kennedy had been careful to address only Mrs. Pearcy at first, and as +he continued questioning her, she seemed to realize that he was trying +to lead her along. + +"I must positively refuse to talk any more," she repeated finally, +rising. "I am not to be tricked into saying anything." + +She had left the room, evidently expecting that Isabel would follow. +She did not. In fact I felt that Miss Pearcy was visibly relieved by +the departure of her stepmother. She seemed anxious to ask us something +and now took the first opportunity. + +"Tell me," she said eagerly, "how did Mr. Minturn die? What do they +really think of it in New York?" + +"They think it is poisoning," replied Craig, noting the look on her +face. + +She betrayed nothing, as far as I could see, except a natural +neighborly interest. "Poisoning?" she repeated. "By what?" + +"Lead poisoning," he replied evasively. + +She said nothing. It was evident that, slip of a girl though she was, +she was quite the match of anyone who attempted leading questions. +Kennedy changed his method. + +"You will pardon me," he said apologetically, "for recalling what must +be distressing. But we newspapermen often have to do things and ask +questions that are distasteful. I believe it is rumored that your +father suffered from lead poisoning?" + +"Oh, I don't know what it was--none of us do," she cried, almost +pathetically. "I had been living at the settlement until lately. When +father grew worse, I came home. He had such strange +visions--hallucinations, I suppose you would call them. In the daytime +he would be so very morose and melancholy. Then, too, there were +terrible pains in his stomach, and his eyesight began to fail. Yes, I +believe that Dr. Gunther did say it was lead poisoning. But--they have +said so many things--so many things," she repeated, plainly distressed +at the subject of her recent bereavement. + +"Your brother is not at home?" asked Kennedy, quickly changing the +subject. + +"No," she answered, then with a flash as though lifting the veil of a +confidence, added: "You know, neither Warner nor I have lived here much +this year. He has been in New York most of the time and I have been at +the settlement, as I already told you." + +She hesitated, as if wondering whether she should say more, then added +quickly: "It has been repeated often enough; there is no reason why I +shouldn't say it to you. Neither of us exactly approved of father's +marriage." + +She checked herself and glanced about, somewhat with the air of one who +has suddenly considered the possibility of being overheard. + +"May I have a glass of water?" asked Kennedy suddenly. + +"Why, certainly," she answered, going to the door, apparently eager for +an excuse to find out whether there was some one on the other side of +it. + +There was not, nor any indication that there had been. + +"Evidently she does not have any suspicions of THAT," remarked Kennedy +in an undertone, half to himself. + +I had no chance to question him, for she returned almost immediately. +Instead of drinking the water, however, he held it carefully up to the +light. It was slightly turbid. + +"You drink the water from the tap?" he asked, as he poured some of it +into a sterilized vial which he drew quickly from his vest pocket. + +"Certainly," she replied, for the moment nonplussed at his strange +actions. "Everybody drinks the town water in Stratfield." + +A few more questions, none of which were of importance, and Kennedy and +I excused ourselves. + +At the gate, instead of turning toward the town, however, Kennedy went +on and entered the grounds of the Minturn house next door. The lawyer, +I had understood, was a widower and, though he lived in Stratfield only +part of the time, still maintained his house there. + +We rang the bell and a middle-aged housekeeper answered. + +"I am from the water company," he began politely. "We are testing the +water, perhaps will supply consumers with filters. Can you let me have +a sample?" + +She did not demur, but invited us in. As she drew the water, Craig +watched her hands closely. She seemed to have difficulty in holding the +glass, and as she handed it to him, I noticed a peculiar hanging down +of the wrist. Kennedy poured the sample into a second vial, and I +noticed that it was turbid, too. With no mention of the tragedy to her +employer, he excused himself, and we walked slowly back to the road. + +Between the two houses Kennedy paused, and for several moments appeared +to be studying them. + +We walked slowly back along the road to the town. As we passed the +local drug store, Kennedy turned and sauntered in. + +He found it easy enough to get into conversation with the druggist, +after making a small purchase, and in the course of a few minutes we +found ourselves gossiping behind the partition that shut off the arcana +of the prescription counter from the rest of the store. + +Gradually Kennedy led the conversation around to the point which he +wanted, and asked, "I wish you'd let me fix up a little sulphureted +hydrogen." + +"Go ahead," granted the druggist good-naturedly. "I guess you can do +it. You know as much about drugs as I do. I can stand the smell, if you +can." + +Kennedy smiled and set to work. + +Slowly he passed the gas through the samples of water he had taken from +the two houses. As he did so the gas, bubbling through, made a blackish +precipitate. + +"What is it?" asked the druggist curiously. + +"Lead sulphide," replied Kennedy, stroking his chin. "This is an +extremely delicate test. Why, one can get a distinct brownish tinge if +lead is present in even incredibly minute quantities." + +He continued to work over the vials ranged on the table before him. + +"The water contains, I should say, from ten to fifteen hundredths of a +grain of lead to the gallon," he remarked finally. + +"Where did it come from?" asked the druggist, unable longer to restrain +his curiosity. + +"I got it up at Pearcy's," Kennedy replied frankly, turning to observe +whether the druggist might betray any knowledge of it. + +"That's strange," he replied in genuine surprise. "Our water in +Stratfield is supplied by a company to a large area, and it has always +seemed to me to be of great organic purity." + +"But the pipes are of lead, are they not?" asked Kennedy. + +"Y-yes," answered the druggist, "I think in most places the service +pipes are of lead. But," he added earnestly as he saw the implication +of his admission, "water has never to my knowledge been found to attack +the pipes so as to affect its quality injuriously." + +He turned his own faucet and drew a glassful. "It is normally quite +clear," he added, holding the glass up. + +It was in fact perfectly clear, and when he passed some of the gas +through it nothing happened at all. + +Just then a man lounged into the store. + +"Hello, Doctor," greeted the druggist. "Here are a couple of fellows +that have been investigating the water up at Pearcy's. They've found +lead in it. That ought to interest you. This is Dr. Gunther," he +introduced, turning to us. + +It was an unexpected encounter, one I imagine that Kennedy might have +preferred to take place under other circumstances. But he was equal to +the occasion. + +"We've been sent up here to look into the case for the New York Star," +Kennedy said quickly. "I intended to come around to see you, but you +have saved me the trouble." + +Dr. Gunther looked from one of us to the other. "Seems to me the New +York papers ought to have enough to do without sending men all over the +country making news," he grunted. + +"Well," drawled Kennedy quietly, "there seems to be a most remarkable +situation up there at Pearcy's and Minturn's, too. As nearly as I can +make out several people there are suffering from unmistakable signs of +lead poisoning. There are the pains in the stomach, the colic, and then +on the gums is that characteristic line of plumbic sulphide, the +distinctive mark produced by lead. There is the wrist-drop, the +eyesight affected, the partial paralysis, the hallucinations and a +condition in old Pearcy's case almost bordering on insanity--to +enumerate the symptoms that seem to be present in varying degrees in +various persons in the two houses." + +Gunther looked at Kennedy, as if in doubt just how to take him. + +"That's what the coroner says, too--lead poisoning," put in the +druggist, himself as keen as anyone else for a piece of local news, and +evidently not averse to stimulating talk from Dr. Gunther, who had been +Pearcy's physician. + +"That all seems to be true enough," replied Gunther at length +guardedly. "I recognized that some time ago." + +"Why do you think it affects each so differently?" asked the druggist. + +Dr. Gunther settled himself easily back in a chair to speak as one +having authority. "Well," he began slowly, "Miss Pearcy, of course, +hasn't been living there much until lately. As for the others, perhaps +this gentleman here from the Star knows that lead, once absorbed, may +remain latent in the system and then make itself felt. It is like +arsenic, an accumulative poison, slowly collecting in the body until +the limit is reached, or until the body, becoming weakened from some +other cause, gives way to it." + +He shifted his position slowly, and went on, as if defending the course +of action he had taken in the case. + +"Then, too, you know, there is an individual as well as family and sex +susceptibility to lead. Women are especially liable to lead poisoning, +but then perhaps in this case Mrs. Pearcy comes of a family that is +very resistant. There are many factors. Personally, I don't think +Pearcy himself was resistant. Perhaps Minturn was not, either. At any +rate, after Pearcy's death, it was I who advised Minturn to take the +electrolysis cure in New York. I took him down there," added Gunther. +"Confound it, I wish I had stayed with him. But I always found +Josephson perfectly reliable in hydrotherapy with other patients I sent +to him, and I understood that he had been very successful with cases +sent to him by many physicians in the city." He paused and I waited +anxiously to see whether Kennedy would make some reference to the +discovery of the strychnine salts. + +"Have you any idea how the lead poisoning could have been caused?" +asked Kennedy instead. + +Dr. Gunther shook his head. "It is a puzzle to me," he answered. "I am +sure of only one thing. It could not be from working in lead, for it is +needless to say that none of them worked." + +"Food?" Craig suggested. + +The doctor considered. "I had thought of that. I know that many cases +of lead poisoning have been traced to the presence of the stuff in +ordinary foods, drugs and drinks. I have examined the foods, especially +the bread. They don't use canned goods. I even went so far as to +examine the kitchen ware to see if there could be anything wrong with +the glazing. They don't drink wines and beers, into which now and then +the stuff seems to get." + +"You seem to have a good grasp of the subject," flattered Kennedy, as +we rose to go. "I can hardly blame you for neglecting the water, since +everyone here seems to be so sure of the purity of the supply." + +Gunther said nothing. I was not surprised, for, at the very least, no +one likes to have an outsider come in and put his finger directly on +the raw spot. What more there might be to it, I could only conjecture. + +We left the druggist's and Kennedy, glancing at his watch, remarked: +"If you will go down to the station, Walter, and get that package we +left there, I shall be much obliged to you. I want to make just one +more stop, at the office of the water company, and I think I shall just +about have time for it. There's a pretty good restaurant across the +street. Meet me there, and by that time I shall know whether to carry +out a little plan I have outlined or not." + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +THE ELECTROLYTIC MURDER + + +We dined leisurely, which seemed strange to me, for it was not +Kennedy's custom to let moments fly uselessly when he was on a case. +However, I soon found out why it was. He was waiting for darkness. + +As soon as the lights began to glow in the little stores on the main +street, we sallied forth, taking the direction of the Pearcy and +Minturn houses. + +On the way he dropped into the hardware store and purchased a light +spade and one of the small pocket electric flashlights, about which he +wrapped a piece of cardboard in such a way as to make a most effective +dark lantern. + +We trudged along in silence, occasionally changing from carrying the +heavy package to the light spade. + +Both the Pearcy and Minturn houses were in nearly total darkness when +we arrived. They set well back from the road and were plentifully +shielded by shrubbery. Then, too, at night it was not a much frequented +neighborhood. We could easily hear the footsteps of anyone approaching +on the walk, and an occasional automobile gliding past did not worry us +in the least. + +"I have calculated carefully from an examination of the water company's +map," said Craig, "just where the water pipe of the two houses branches +off from the main in the road." + +After a measurement or two from some landmark, we set to work a few +feet inside, under cover of the bushes and the shadows, like two grave +diggers. + +Kennedy had been wielding the spade vigorously for a few minutes when +it touched something metallic. There, just beneath the frost line, we +came upon the service pipe. + +He widened the hole, and carefully scraped off the damp earth that +adhered to the pipe. Next he found a valve where he shut off the water +and cut out a small piece of the pipe. + +"I hope they don't suspect anything like this in the houses with their +water cut off," he remarked as he carefully split the piece open +lengthwise and examined it under the light. + +On the interior of the pipe could be seen patchy lumps of white which +projected about an eighth of an inch above the internal surface. As the +pipe dried in the warm night air, they could easily be brushed off as a +white powder. + +"What is it--strychnine?" I asked. + +"No," he replied, regarding it thoughtfully with some satisfaction. +"That is lead carbonate. There can be no doubt that the turbidity of +the water was due to this powder in suspension. A little dissolves in +the water, while the scales and incrustations in fine particles are +carried along in the current. As a matter of fact the amount necessary +to make the water poisonous need not be large." + +He applied a little instrument to the cut ends of the pipe. As I bent +over, I could see the needle on its dial deflected just a bit. + +"My voltmeter," he said, reading it, "shows that there is a current of +about 1.8 volts passing through this pipe all the time." + +"Electrolysis of water pipes!" I exclaimed, thinking of statements I +had heard by engineers. "That's what they mean by stray or vagabond +currents, isn't it?" + +He had seized the lantern and was eagerly following up and down the +line of the water pipe. At last he stopped, with a low exclamation, at +a point where an electric light wire supplying the Minturn cottage +crossed overhead. Fastened inconspicuously to the trunk of a tree which +served as a support for the wire was another wire which led down from +it and was buried in the ground. + +Craig turned up the soft earth as fast as he could, until he reached +the pipe at this point. There was the buried wire wound several times +around it. + +As quickly and as neatly as he could he inserted a connection between +the severed ends of the pipe to restore the flow of water to the +houses, turned on the water and covered up the holes he had dug. Then +he unwrapped the package which we had tugged about all day, and in a +narrow path between the bushes which led to the point where the wire +had tapped the electric light feed he placed in a shallow hole in the +ground a peculiar apparatus. + +As nearly as I could make it out, it consisted of two flat platforms +between which, covered over and projected, was a slip of paper which +moved forward, actuated by clockwork, and pressed on by a sort of +stylus. Then he covered it over lightly with dirt so that, unless +anyone had been looking for it, it would never be noticed. + +It was late when we reached the city again, but Kennedy had one more +piece of work and that devolved on me. All the way down on the train he +had been writing and rewriting something. + +"Walter," he said, as the train pulled into the station, "I want that +published in to-morrow's papers." + +I looked over what he had written. It was one of the most sensational +stories I have ever fathered, beginning, "Latest of the victims of the +unknown poisoner of whole families in Stratfield, Connecticut, is Miss +Isabel Pearcy, whose father, Randall Pearcy, died last week." + +I knew that it was a "plant" of some kind, for so far he had discovered +no evidence that Miss Pearcy had been affected. What his purpose was, I +could not guess, but I got the story printed. + +The next morning early Kennedy was quietly at work in the laboratory. + +"What is this treatment of lead poisoning by electrolysis?" I asked, +now that there had come a lull when I might get an intelligible answer. +"How does it work?" + +"Brand new, Walter," replied Kennedy. "It has been discovered that ions +will flow directly through the membranes." + +"Ions?" I repeated. "What are ions?" + +"Travelers," he answered, smiling, "so named by Faraday from the Greek +verb, io, to go. They are little positive and negative charges of +electricity of which molecules are composed. You know some believe now +that matter is really composed of electrical energy. I think I can +explain it best by a simile I use with my classes. It is as though you +had a ballroom in which the dancers in couples represent the neutral +molecules. There are a certain number of isolated ladies and +gentlemen--dissociated ions--" "Who don't know these new dances?" I +interrupted. + +"They all know this dance," he laughed. "But, to be serious in the +simile, suppose at one end of the room there is a large mirror and at +the other a buffet with cigars and champagne. What happens to the +dissociated ions?" + +"Well, I suppose you want me to say that the ladies gather about the +mirror and the men about the buffet." + +"Exactly. And some of the dancing partners separate and follow the +crowd. Well, that room presents a picture of what happens in an +electrolytic solution at the moment when the electric current is +passing through it." + +"Thanks," I laughed. "That was quite adequate to my immature +understanding." + +Kennedy continued at work, checking up and arranging his data until the +middle of the afternoon, when he went up to Stratfield. + +Having nothing better to do, I wandered out about town in the hope of +running across some one with whom to while away the hours until Kennedy +returned. I found out that, since yesterday, Broadway had woven an +entirely new background for the mystery. Now it was rumored that the +lawyer Minturn himself had been on very intimate terms with Mrs. +Pearcy. I did not pay much attention to the rumor, for I knew that +Broadway is constitutionally unable to believe that anybody is straight. + +Kennedy had commissioned me to keep in touch with Josephson and I +finally managed to get around to the Baths, to find them still closed. + +As I was talking with him, a very muddy and dusty car pulled up at the +door and a young man whose face was marred by the red congested blood +vessels that are in some a mark of dissipation burst in on us. + +"What--closed up yet--Joe?" he asked. "Haven't they taken Minturn's +body away?" + +"Yes, it was sent up to Stratfield to-day," replied the masseur, "but +the coroner seems to want to worry me all he can." + +"Too bad. I was up almost all last night, and to-day I have been out in +my car--tired to death. Thought I might get some rest here. Where are +you sending the boys--to the Longacre?" + +"Yes. They'll take good care of you till I open up again. Hope to see +you back again, then, Mr. Pearcy," he added, as the young man turned +and hurried out to his car again. "That was that young Pearcy, you +know. Nice boy--but living the life too fast. What's Kennedy +doing--anything?" + +I did not like the jaunty bravado of the masseur which now seemed to be +returning, since nothing definite had taken shape. I determined that he +should not pump me, as he evidently was trying to do. I had at least +fulfilled Kennedy's commission and felt that the sooner I left +Josephson the better for both of us. + +I was surprised at dinner to receive a wire from Craig saying that he +was bringing down Dr. Gunther, Mrs. Pearcy and Isabel to New York and +asking me to have Warner Pearcy and Josephson at the laboratory at nine +o'clock. + +By strategy I managed to persuade Pearcy to come, and as for Josephson, +he could not very well escape, though I saw that as long as nothing +more had happened, he was more interested in "fixing" the police so +that he could resume business than anything else. + +As we entered the laboratory that night, Kennedy, who had left his +party at a downtown hotel to freshen up, met us each at the door. +Instead of conducting us in front of his laboratory table, which was +the natural way, he led us singly around through the narrow space back +of it. + +I recall that as I followed him, I half imagined that the floor gave +way just a bit, and there flashed over me, by a queer association of +ideas, the recollection of having visited an amusement park not long +before where merely stepping on an innocent-looking section of the +flooring had resulted in a tremendous knocking and banging beneath, +much to the delight of the lovers of slap-stick humor. This was serious +business, however, and I quickly banished the frivolous thought from my +mind. + +"The discovery of poison, and its identification," began Craig at last +when we had all arrived and were seated about him, "often involves not +only the use of chemistry but also a knowledge of the chemical effect +of the poison on the body, and the gross as well as microscopic changes +which it produces in various tissues and organs--changes, some due to +mere contact, others to the actual chemicophysiological reaction +between the poison and the body." + +His hand was resting on the poles of a large battery, as he proceeded: +"Every day the medical detective plays a more and more important part +in the detection of crime, and I might say that, except in the case of +crime complicated by a lunacy plea, his work has earned the respect of +the courts and of detectives, while in the case of insanity the +discredit is the fault rather of the law itself. The ways in which the +doctor can be of use in untangling the facts in many forms of crime +have become so numerous that the profession of medical detective may +almost be called a specialty." + +Kennedy repeated what he had already told me about electrolysis, then +placed between the poles of the battery a large piece of raw beef. + +He covered the negative electrode with blotting paper and soaked it in +a beaker near at hand. + +"This solution," he explained, "is composed of potassium iodide. In +this other beaker I have a mixture of ordinary starch." + +He soaked the positive electrode in the starch and then jammed the two +against the soft red meat. Then he applied the current. + +A few moments later he withdrew the positive electrode. Both it and the +meat under it were blue! + +"What has happened?" he asked. "The iodine ions have actually passed +through the beef to the positive pole and the paper on the electrode. +Here we have starch iodide." + +It was a startling idea, this of the introduction of a substance by +electrolysis. + +"I may say," he resumed, "that the medical view of electricity is +changing, due in large measure to the genius of the Frenchman, Dr. +Leduc. The body, we know, is composed largely of water, with salts of +soda and potash. It is an excellent electrolyte. Yet most doctors +regard the introduction of substances by the electric current as +insignificant or nonexistent. But on the contrary the introduction of +drugs by electrolysis is regular and far from being insignificant may +very easily bring about death. + +"That action," he went on, looking from one of us to another, "may be +therapeutic, as in the cure for lead poisoning by removing the lead, or +it may be toxic--as in the case of actually introducing such a poison +as strychnine into the body by the same forces that will remove the +lead." + +He paused a moment, to enforce the point which had already been +suggested. I glanced about hastily. If anyone in his little audience +was guilty, no one betrayed it, for all were following him, fascinated. +Yet in the wildly throbbing brain of some one of them the guilty +knowledge must be seared indelibly. Would the mere accusation be enough +to dissociate the truth from, that brain or would Kennedy have to +resort to other means? + +"Some one," he went on, in a low, tense voice, leaning forward, "some +one who knew this effect placed strychnine salts on one of the +electrodes of the bath which Owen Minturn was to use." + +He did not pause. Evidently he was planning to let the force of his +exposure be cumulative, until from its sheer momentum it carried +everything before it. + +"Walter," he ordered quickly. "Lend me a hand." + +Together we moved the laboratory table as he directed. + +There, in the floor, concealed by the shadow, he had placed the same +apparatus which I had seen him bury in the path between the Pearcy and +Minturn estates at Stratfield. + +We scarcely breathed. + +"This," he explained rapidly, "is what is known as a kinograph--the +invention of Professor HeleShaw of London. It enables me to identify a +person by his or her walk. Each of you as you entered this room has +passed over this apparatus and has left a different mark on the paper +which registers." + +For a moment he stopped, as if gathering strength for the final assault. + +"Until late this afternoon I had this kinograph secreted at a certain +place in Stratfield. Some one had tampered with the leaden water pipes +and the electric light cable. Fearful that the lead poisoning brought +on by electrolysis might not produce its result in the intended victim, +that person took advantage of the new discoveries in electrolysis to +complete that work by introducing the deadly strychnine during the very +process of cure of the lead poisoning." + +He slapped down a copy of a newspaper. "In the news this morning I told +just enough of what I had discovered and colored it in such a way that +I was sure I would arouse apprehension. I did it because I wanted to +make the criminal revisit the real scene of the crime. There was a +double motive now--to remove the evidence and to check the spread of +the poisoning." + +He reached over, tore off the paper with a quick, decisive motion, and +laid it beside another strip, a little discolored by moisture, as +though the damp earth had touched it. + +"That person, alarmed lest something in the cleverly laid plot, might +be discovered, went to a certain spot to remove the traces of the +diabolical work which were hidden there. My kinograph shows the +footsteps, shows as plainly as if I had been present, the exact person +who tried to obliterate the evidence." + +An ashen pallor seemed to spread over the face of Miss Pearcy, as +Kennedy shot out the words. + +"That person," he emphasized, "had planned to put out of the way one +who had brought disgrace on the Pearcy family. It was an act of private +justice." + +Mrs. Pearcy could stand the strain no longer. She had broken down and +was weeping incoherently. I strained my ears to catch what she was +murmuring. It was Minturn's name, not Gunther's, that was on her lips. + +"But," cried Kennedy, raising an accusatory finger from the kinograph +tracing and pointing it like the finger of Fate itself, "but the +self-appointed avenger forgot that the leaden water pipe was common to +the two houses. Old Mr. Pearcy, the wronged, died first. Isabel has +guessed the family skeleton--has tried hard to shield you, but, Warner +Pearcy, you are the murderer!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +THE EUGENIC BRIDE + + +Scandal, such as that which Kennedy unearthed in this Pearcy case, was +never much to his liking, yet he seemed destined, about this period of +his career, to have a good deal of it. + +We had scarcely finished with the indictment that followed the arrest +of young Pearcy, when we were confronted by a situation which was as +unique as it was intensely modern. + +"There's absolutely no insanity in Eugenia's family," I heard a young +man remark to Kennedy, as my key turned in the lock of the laboratory +door. + +For a moment I hesitated about breaking in on a confidential +conference, then reflected that, as they had probably already heard me +at the lock, I had better go in and excuse myself. + +As I swung the door open, I saw a young man pacing up and down the +laboratory nervously, too preoccupied even to notice the slight noise I +had made. + +He paused in his nervous walk and faced Kennedy, his back to me. + +"Kennedy," he said huskily, "I wouldn't care if there was insanity in +her family--for, my God!--the tragedy of it all now--I love her!" + +He turned, following Kennedy's eyes in my direction, and I saw on his +face the most haggard, haunting look of anxiety that I had ever seen on +a young person. + +Instantly I recognized from the pictures I had seen in the newspapers +young Quincy Atherton, the last of this famous line of the family, who +had attracted a great deal of attention several months previously by +what the newspapers had called his search through society for a +"eugenics bride," to infuse new blood into the Atherton stock. + +"You need have no fear that Mr. Jameson will be like the other +newspaper men," reassured Craig, as he introduced us, mindful of the +prejudice which the unpleasant notoriety of Atherton's marriage had +already engendered in his mind. + +I recalled that when I had first heard of Atherton's "eugenic +marriage," I had instinctively felt a prejudice against the very idea +of such cold, calculating, materialistic, scientific mating, as if one +of the last fixed points were disappearing in the chaos of the social +and sex upheaval. + +Now, I saw that one great fact of life must always remain. We might +ride in hydroaeroplanes, delve into the very soul by psychanalysis, +perhaps even run our machines by the internal forces of radium--even +marry according to Galton or Mendel. But there would always be love, +deep passionate love of the man for the woman, love which all the +discoveries of science might perhaps direct a little less blindly, but +the consuming flame of which not all the coldness of science could ever +quench. No tampering with the roots of human nature could ever change +the roots. + +I must say that I rather liked young Atherton. He had a frank, open +face, the most prominent feature of which was his somewhat aristocratic +nose. Otherwise he impressed one as being the victim of heredity in +faults, if at all serious, against which he was struggling heroically. + +It was a most pathetic story which he told, a story of how his family +had degenerated from the strong stock of his ancestors until he was the +last of the line. He told of his education, how he had fallen, a rather +wild youth bent in the footsteps of his father who had been a +notoriously good clubfellow, under the influence of a college +professor, Dr. Crafts, a classmate of his father's, of how the +professor had carefully and persistently fostered in him an idea that +had completely changed him. + +"Crafts always said it was a case of eugenics against euthenics," +remarked Atherton, "of birth against environment. He would tell me over +and over that birth gave me the clay, and it wasn't such bad clay after +all, but that environment would shape the vessel." + +Then Atherton launched into a description of how he had striven to find +a girl who had the strong qualities his family germ plasm seemed to +have lost, mainly, I gathered, resistance to a taint much like manic +depressive insanity. And as he talked, it was borne in on me that, +after all, contrary to my first prejudice, there was nothing very +romantic indeed about disregarding the plain teachings of science on +the subject of marriage and one's children. + +In his search for a bride, Dr. Crafts, who had founded a sort of +Eugenics Bureau, had come to advise him. Others may have looked up +their brides in Bradstreet's, or at least the Social Register. Atherton +had gone higher, had been overjoyed to find that a girl he had met in +the West, Eugenia Gilman, measured up to what his friend told him were +the latest teachings of science. He had been overjoyed because, long +before Crafts had told him, he had found out that he loved her deeply. + +"And now," he went on, half choking with emotion, "she is apparently +suffering from just the same sort of depression as I myself might +suffer from if the recessive trait became active." + +"What do you mean, for instance?" asked Craig. + +"Well, for one thing, she has the delusion that my relatives are +persecuting her." + +"Persecuting her?" repeated Craig, stifling the remark that that was +not in itself a new thing in this or any other family. "How?" + +"Oh, making her feel that, after all, it is Atherton family rather than +Gilman health that counts--little remarks that when our baby is born, +they hope it will resemble Quincy rather than Eugenia, and all that +sort of thing, only worse and more cutting, until the thing has begun +to prey on her mind." + +"I see," remarked Kennedy thoughtfully. "But don't you think this is a +case for a--a doctor, rather than a detective?" + +Atherton glanced up quickly. "Kennedy," he answered slowly, "where +millions of dollars are involved, no one can guess to what lengths the +human mind will go--no one, except you." + +"Then you have suspicions of something worse?" + +"Y-yes--but nothing definite. Now, take this case. If I should die +childless, after my wife, the Atherton estate would descend to my +nearest relative, Burroughs Atherton, a cousin." + +"Unless you willed it to--" + +"I have already drawn a will," he interrupted, "and in case I survive +Eugenia and die childless, the money goes to the founding of a larger +Eugenics Bureau, to prevent in the future, as much as possible, +tragedies such as this of which I find myself a part. If the case is +reversed, Eugenia will get her third and the remainder will go to the +Bureau or the Foundation, as I call the new venture. But," and here +young Atherton leaned forward and fixed his large eyes keenly on us, +"Burroughs might break the will. He might show that I was of unsound +mind, or that Eugenia was, too." + +"Are there no other relatives?" + +"Burroughs is the nearest," he replied, then added frankly, "I have a +second cousin, a young lady named Edith Atherton, with whom both +Burroughs and I used to be very friendly." + +It was evident from the way he spoke that he had thought a great deal +about Edith Atherton, and still thought well of her. + +"Your wife thinks it is Burroughs who is persecuting her?" asked +Kennedy. + +Atherton shrugged his shoulders. + +"Does she get along badly with Edith? She knows her I presume?" + +"Of course. The fact is that since the death of her mother, Edith has +been living with us. She is a splendid girl, and all alone in the world +now, and I had hopes that in New York she might meet some one and marry +well." + +Kennedy was looking squarely at Atherton, wondering whether he might +ask a question without seeming impertinent. Atherton caught the look, +read it, and answered quite frankly, "To tell the truth, I suppose I +might have married Edith, before I met Eugenia, if Professor Crafts had +not dissuaded me. But it wouldn't have been real love--nor wise. You +know," he went on more frankly, now that the first hesitation was over +and he realized that if he were to gain anything at all by Kennedy's +services, there must be the utmost candor between them, "you know +cousins may marry if the stocks are known to be strong. But if there is +a defect, it is almost sure to be intensified. And so I--I gave up the +idea--never had it, in fact, so strongly as to propose to her. And when +I met Eugenia all the Athertons on the family tree couldn't have bucked +up against the combination." + +He was deadly in earnest as he arose from the chair into which he had +dropped after I came in. + +"Oh, it's terrible--this haunting fear, this obsession that I have had, +that, in spite of all I have tried to do, some one, somehow, will +defeat me. Then comes the situation, just at a time when Eugenia and I +feel that we have won against Fate, and she in particular needs all the +consideration and care in the world--and--and I am defeated." + +Atherton was again pacing the laboratory. + +"I have my car waiting outside," he pleaded. "I wish you would go with +me to see Eugenia--now." + +It was impossible to resist him. Kennedy rose and I followed, not +without a trace of misgiving. + +The Atherton mansion was one of the old houses of the city, a somber +stone dwelling with a garden about it on a downtown square, on which +business was already encroaching. We were admitted by a servant who +seemed to walk over the polished floors with stealthy step as if there +was something sacred about even the Atherton silence. As we waited in a +high-ceilinged drawing-room with exquisite old tapestries on the walls, +I could not help feeling myself the influence of wealth and birth that +seemed to cry out from every object of art in the house. + +On the longer wall of the room, I saw a group of paintings. One, I +noted especially, must have been Atherton's ancestor, the founder of +the line. There was the same nose in Atherton, for instance, a striking +instance of heredity. I studied the face carefully. There was every +element of strength in it, and I thought instinctively that, whatever +might have been the effects of in-breeding and bad alliances, there +must still be some of that strength left in the present descendant of +the house of Atherton. The more I thought about the house, the +portrait, the whole case, the more unable was I to get out of my head a +feeling that though I had not been in such a position before, I had at +least read or heard something of which it vaguely reminded me. + +Eugenia Atherton was reclining listlessly in her room in a deep leather +easy chair, when Atherton took us up at last. She did not rise to greet +us, but I noted that she was attired in what Kennedy once called, as we +strolled up the Avenue, "the expensive sloppiness of the present +styles." In her case the looseness with which her clothes hung was +exaggerated by the lack of energy with which she wore them. + +She had been a beautiful girl, I knew. In fact, one could see that she +must have been. Now, however, she showed marks of change. Her eyes were +large, and protruding, not with the fire of passion which is often +associated with large eyes, but dully, set in a puffy face, a trifle +florid. Her hands seemed, when she moved them, to shake with an +involuntary tremor, and in spite of the fact that one almost could feel +that her heart and lungs were speeding with energy, she had lost weight +and no longer had the full, rounded figure of health. Her manner showed +severe mental disturbance, indifference, depression, a distressing +deterioration. All her attractive Western breeziness was gone. One felt +the tragedy of it only too keenly. + +"I have asked Professor Kennedy, a specialist, to call, my dear," said +Atherton gently, without mentioning what the specialty was. + +"Another one?" she queried languorously. + +There was a colorless indifference in the tone which was almost tragic. +She said the words slowly and deliberately, as though even her mind +worked that way. + +From the first, I saw that Kennedy had been observing Eugenia Atherton +keenly. And in the role of specialist in nervous diseases he was +enabled to do what otherwise would have been difficult to accomplish. + +Gradually, from observing her mental condition of indifference which +made conversation extremely difficult as well as profitless, he began +to consider her physical condition. I knew him well enough to gather +from his manner alone as he went on that what had seemed at the start +to be merely a curious case, because it concerned the Athertons, was +looming up in his mind as unusual in itself, and was interesting him +because it baffled him. + +Craig had just discovered that her pulse was abnormally high, and that +consequently she had a high temperature, and was sweating profusely. + +"Would you mind turning your head, Mrs. Atherton?" he asked. + +She turned slowly, half way, her eyes fixed vacantly on the floor until +we could see the once striking profile. + +"No, all the way around, if you please," added Kennedy. + +She offered no objection, not the slightest resistance. As she turned +her head as far as she could, Kennedy quickly placed his forefinger and +thumb gently on her throat, the once beautiful throat, now with skin +harsh and rough. Softly he moved his fingers just a fraction of an inch +over the so-called "Adam's apple" and around it for a little distance. + +"Thank you," he said. "Now around to the other side." + +He made no other remark as he repeated the process, but I fancied I +could tell that he had had an instant suspicion of something the moment +he touched her throat. + +He rose abstractedly, bowed, and we started to leave the room, +uncertain whether she knew or cared. Quincy had fixed his eyes silently +on Craig, as if imploring him to speak, but I knew how unlikely that +was until he had confirmed his suspicion to the last slightest detail. + +We were passing through a dressing room in the suite when we met a tall +young woman, whose face I instantly recognized, not because I had ever +seen it before, but because she had the Atherton nose so prominently +developed. + +"My cousin, Edith," introduced Quincy. + +We bowed and stood for a moment chatting. There seemed to be no reason +why we should leave the suite, since Mrs. Atherton paid so little +attention to us even when we had been in the same room. Yet a slight +movement in her room told me that in spite of her lethargy she seemed +to know that we were there and to recognize who had joined us. + +Edith Atherton was a noticeable woman, a woman of temperament, not +beautiful exactly, but with a stateliness about her, an aloofness. The +more I studied her face, with its thin sensitive lips and commanding, +almost imperious eyes, the more there seemed to be something peculiar +about her. She was dressed very simply in black, but it was the +simplicity that costs. One thing was quite evident--her pride in the +family of Atherton. + +And as we talked, it seemed to be that she, much more than Eugenia in +her former blooming health, was a part of the somber house. There came +over me again the impression I had received before that I had read or +heard something like this case before. + +She did not linger long, but continued her stately way into the room +where Eugenia sat. And at once it flashed over me what my impression, +indefinable, half formed, was. I could not help thinking, as I saw her +pass, of the lady Madeline in "The Fall of the House of Usher." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +THE GERM PLASM + + +I regarded her with utter astonishment and yet found it impossible to +account for such a feeling. I looked at Atherton, but on his face I +could see nothing but a sort of questioning fear that only increased my +illusion, as if he, too, had only a vague, haunting premonition of +something terrible impending. Almost I began to wonder whether the +Atherton house might not crumble under the fierceness of a sudden +whirlwind, while the two women in this case, one representing the +wasted past, the other the blasted future, dragged Atherton down, as +the whole scene dissolved into some ghostly tarn. It was only for a +moment, and then I saw that the more practical Kennedy had been +examining some bottles on the lady's dresser before which we had paused. + +One was a plain bottle of pellets which might have been some +homeopathic remedy. + +"Whatever it is that is the matter with Eugenia," remarked Atherton, +"it seems to have baffled the doctors so far." + +Kennedy said nothing, but I saw that he had clumsily overturned the +bottle and absently set it up again, as though his thoughts were far +away. Yet with a cleverness that would have done credit to a professor +of legerdemain he had managed to extract two or three of the pellets. + +"Yes," he said, as he moved slowly toward the staircase in the wide +hall, "most baffling." + +Atherton was plainly disappointed. Evidently he had expected Kennedy to +arrive at the truth and set matters right by some sudden piece of +wizardry, and it was with difficulty that he refrained from saying so. + +"I should like to meet Burroughs Atherton," he remarked as we stood in +the wide hall on the first floor of the big house. "Is he a frequent +visitor?" + +"Not frequent," hastened Quincy Atherton, in a tone that showed some +satisfaction in saying it. "However, by a lucky chance he has promised +to call to-night--a mere courtesy, I believe, to Edith, since she has +come to town on a visit." + +"Good!" exclaimed Kennedy. "Now, I leave it to you, Atherton, to make +some plausible excuse for our meeting Burroughs here." + +"I can do that easily." + +"I shall be here early," pursued Kennedy as we left. + +Back again in the laboratory to which Atherton insisted on accompanying +us in his car, Kennedy busied himself for a few minutes, crushing up +one of the tablets and trying one or two reactions with some of the +powder dissolved, while I looked on curiously. + +"Craig," I remarked contemplatively, after a while, "how about Atherton +himself? Is he really free from the--er--stigmata, I suppose you call +them, of insanity?" + +"You mean, may the whole trouble lie with him?" he asked, not looking +up from his work. + +"Yes--and the effect on her be a sort of reflex, say, perhaps the +effect of having sold herself for money and position. In other words, +does she, did she, ever love him? We don't know that. Might it not prey +on her mind, until with the kind help of his precious relatives even +Nature herself could not stand the strain--especially in the delicate +condition in which she now finds herself?" + +I must admit that I felt the utmost sympathy for the poor girl whom we +had just seen such a pitiable wreck. + +Kennedy closed his eyes tightly until they wrinkled at the corners. + +"I think I have found out the immediate cause of her trouble," he said +simply, ignoring my suggestion. + +"What is it?" I asked eagerly. + +"I can't imagine how they could have failed to guess it, except that +they never would have suspected to look for anything resembling +exophthalmic goiter in a person of her stamina," he answered, +pronouncing the word slowly. "You have heard of the thyroid gland in +the neck?" + +"Yes?" I queried, for it was a mere name to me. + +"It is a vascular organ lying under the chin with a sort of little +isthmus joining the two parts on either side of the windpipe," he +explained. "Well, when there is any deterioration of those glands +through any cause, all sorts of complications may arise. The thyroid is +one of the so-called ductless glands, like the adrenals above the +kidneys, the pineal gland and the pituitary body. In normal activity +they discharge into the blood substances which are carried to other +organs and are now known to be absolutely essential. + +"The substances which they secrete are called 'hormones'--those +chemical messengers, as it were, by which many of the processes of the +body are regulated. In fact, no field of experimental physiology is +richer in interest than this. It seems that few ordinary drugs approach +in their effects on metabolism the hormones of the thyroid. In excess +they produce such diseases as exophthalmic goiter, and goiter is +concerned with the enlargement of the glands and surrounding tissues +beyond anything like natural size. Then, too, a defect in the glands +causes the disease known as myxedema in adults and cretinism in +children. Most of all, the gland seems to tell on the germ plasm of the +body, especially in women." + +I listened in amazement, hardly knowing what to think. Did his +discovery portend something diabolical, or was it purely a defect in +nature which Dr. Crafts of the Eugenics Bureau had overlooked? + +"One thing at a time, Walter," cautioned Kennedy, when I put the +question to him, scarcely expecting an answer yet. + +That night in the old Atherton mansion, while we waited for Borroughs +to arrive, Kennedy, whose fertile mind had contrived to kill at least +two birds with one stone, busied himself by cutting in on the regular +telephone line and placing an extension of his own in a closet in the +library. To it he attached an ordinary telephone receiver fastened to +an arrangement which was strange to me. As nearly as I can describe it, +between the diaphragm of the regular receiver and a brownish cylinder, +like that of a phonograph, and with a needle attached, was fitted an +air chamber of small size, open to the outer air by a small hole to +prevent compression. + +The work was completed expeditiously, but we had plenty of time to +wait, for Borroughs Atherton evidently did not consider that an evening +had fairly begun until nine o'clock. + +He arrived at last, however, rather tall, slight of figure, +narrow-shouldered, designed for the latest models of imported fabrics. +It was evident merely by shaking hands with Burroughs that he thought +both the Athertons and the Burroughses just the right combination. He +was one of those few men against whom I conceive an instinctive +prejudice, and in this case I felt positive that, whatever faults the +Atherton germ plasm might contain, he had combined others from the +determiners of that of the other ancestors he boasted. I could not help +feeling that Eugenia Atherton was in about as unpleasant an atmosphere +of social miasma as could be imagined. + +Burroughs asked politely after Eugenia, but it was evident that the +real deference was paid to Edith Atherton and that they got along very +well together. Burroughs excused himself early, and we followed soon +after. + +"I think I shall go around to this Eugenics Bureau of Dr. Crafts," +remarked Kennedy the next day, after a night's consideration of the +case. + +The Bureau occupied a floor in a dwelling house uptown which had been +remodeled into an office building. Huge cabinets were stacked up +against the walls, and in them several women were engaged in filing +blanks and card records. Another part of the office consisted of an +extensive library on eugenic subjects. + +Dr. Crafts, in charge of the work, whom we found in a little office in +front partitioned off by ground glass, was an old man with an alert, +vigorous mind on whom the effects of plain living and high thinking +showed plainly. He was looking over some new blanks with a young woman +who seemed to be working with him, directing the force of clerks as +well as the "field workers," who were gathering the vast mass of +information which was being studied. As we introduced ourselves, he +introduced Dr. Maude Schofield. + +"I have heard of your eugenic marriage contests," began Kennedy, "more +especially of what you have done for Mr. Quincy Atherton." + +"Well--not exactly a contest in that case, at least," corrected Dr. +Crafts with an indulgent smile for a layman. + +"No," put in Dr. Schofield, "the Eugenics Bureau isn't a human stock +farm." + +"I see," commented Kennedy, who had no such idea, anyhow. He was always +lenient with anyone who had what he often referred to as the "illusion +of grandeur." + +"We advise people sometimes regarding the desirability or the +undesirability of marriage," mollified Dr. Crafts. "This is a sort of +clearing house for scientific race investigation and improvement." + +"At any rate," persisted Kennedy, "after investigation, I understand, +you advised in favor of his marriage with Miss Gilman." + +"Yes, Eugenia Gilman seemed to measure well up to the requirements in +such a match. Her branch of the Gilmans has always been of the +vigorous, pioneering type, as well as intellectual. Her father was one +of the foremost thinkers in the West; in fact had long held ideas on +the betterment of the race. You see that in the choice of a name for +his daughter--Eugenia." + +"Then there were no recessive traits in her family," asked Kennedy +quickly, "of the same sort that you find in the Athertons?" + +"None that we could discover," answered Dr. Crafts positively. + +"No epilepsy, no insanity of any form?" + +"No. Of course, you understand that almost no one is what might be +called eugenically perfect. Strictly speaking, perhaps not over two or +three per cent. of the population even approximates that standard. But +it seemed to me that in everything essential in this case, weakness +latent in Atherton was mating strength in Eugenia and the same way on +her part for an entirely different set of traits." + +"Still," considered Kennedy, "there might have been something latent in +her family germ plasm back of the time through which you could trace +it?" + +Dr. Crafts shrugged his shoulders. "There often is, I must admit, +something we can't discover because it lies too far back in the past." + +"And likely to crop out after skipping generations," put in Maude +Schofield. + +She evidently did not take the same liberal view in the practical +application of the matter expressed by her chief. I set it down to the +ardor of youth in a new cause, which often becomes the saner +conservatism of maturity. + +"Of course, you found it much easier than usual to get at the true +family history of the Athertons," pursued Kennedy. "It is an old family +and has been prominent for generations." + +"Naturally," assented Dr. Crafts. + +"You know Burroughs Atherton on both lines of descent?" asked Kennedy, +changing the subject abruptly. + +"Yes, fairly well," answered Crafts. + +"Now, for example," went on Craig, "how would you advise him to marry?" + +I saw at once that he was taking this subterfuge as a way of securing +information which might otherwise have been withheld if asked for +directly. Maude Schofield also saw it, I fancied, but this time said +nothing. "They had a grandfather who was a manic depressive on the +Atherton side," said Crafts slowly. "Now, no attempt has ever been made +to breed that defect out of the family. In the case of Burroughs, it is +perhaps a little worse, for the other side of his ancestry is not free +from the taint of alcoholism." + +"And Edith Atherton?" + +"The same way. They both carry it. I won't go into the Mendelian law on +the subject. We are clearing up much that is obscure. But as to +Burroughs, he should marry, if at all, some one without that particular +taint. I believe that in a few generations by proper mating most taints +might be bred out of families." + +Maude Schofield evidently did not agree with Dr. Crafts on some point, +and, noticing it, he seemed to be in the position both of explaining +his contention to us and of defending it before his fair assistant. + +"It is my opinion, as far as I have gone with the data," he added, +"that there is hope for many of those whose family history shows +certain nervous taints. A sweeping prohibition of such marriages would +be futile, perhaps injurious. It is necessary that the mating be +carefully made, however, to prevent intensifying the taint. You see, +though I am a eugenist I am not an extremist." + +He paused, then resumed argumentatively: "Then there are other +questions, too, like that of genius with its close relation to manic +depressive insanity. Also, there is decrease enough in the birth rate, +without adding an excuse for it. No, that a young man like Atherton +should take the subject seriously, instead of spending his time in wild +dissipation, like his father, is certainly creditable, argues in itself +that there still must exist some strength in his stock. + +"And, of course," he continued warmly, "when I say that weakness in a +trait--not in all traits, by any means--should marry strength and that +strength may marry weakness, I don't mean that all matches should be +like that. If we are too strict we may prohibit practically all +marriages. In Atherton's case, as in many another, I felt that I should +interpret the rule as sanely as possible." + +"Strength should marry strength, and weakness should never marry," +persisted Maude Schofield. "Nothing short of that will satisfy the true +eugenist." + +"Theoretically," objected Crafts. "But Atherton was going to marry, +anyhow. The only thing for me to do was to lay down a rule which he +might follow safely. Besides, any other rule meant sure disaster." + +"It was the only rule with half a chance of being followed and at any +rate," drawled Kennedy, as the eugenists wrangled, "what difference +does it make in this case? As nearly as I can make out it is Mrs. +Atherton herself, not Atherton, who is ill." + +Maude Schofield had risen to return to supervising a clerk who needed +help. She left us, still unconvinced. + +"That is a very clever girl," remarked Kennedy as she shut the door and +he scanned Dr. Crafts' face dosely. + +"Very," assented the Doctor. + +"The Schofields come of good stock?" hazarded Kennedy. + +"Very," assented Dr. Crafts again. + +Evidently he did not care to talk about individual cases, and I felt +that the rule was a safe one, to prevent Eugenics from becoming Gossip. +Kennedy thanked him for his courtesy, and we left apparently on the +best of terms both with Crafts and his assistant. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +THE SEX CONTROL + + +I did not see Kennedy again that day until late in the afternoon, when +he came into the laboratory carrying a small package. + +"Theory is one thing, practice is another," he remarked, as he threw +his hat and coat into a chair. + +"Which means--in this case?" I prompted. + +"Why, I have just seen Atherton. Of course I didn't repeat our +conversation of this morning, and I'm glad I didn't. He almost makes me +think you are right, Walter. He's obsessed by the fear of Burroughs. +Why, he even told me that Burroughs had gone so far as to take a leaf +out of his book, so to speak, get in touch with the Eugenics Bureau as +if to follow his footsteps, but really to pump them about Atherton +himself. Atherton says it's all Burroughs' plan to break his will and +that the fellow has even gone so far as to cultivate the acquaintance +of Maude Schofield, knowing that he will get no sympathy from Crafts." + +"First it was Edith Atherton, now it is Maude Schofield that he hitches +up with Burroughs," I commented. "Seems to me that I have heard that +one of the first signs of insanity is belief that everyone about the +victim is conspiring against him. I haven't any love for any of +them--but I must be fair." + +"Well," said Kennedy, unwrapping the package, "there IS this much to +it. Atherton says Burroughs and Maude Schofield have been seen together +more than once--and not at intellectual gatherings either. Burroughs is +a fascinating fellow to a woman, if he wants to be, and the Schofields +are at least the social equals of the Burroughs. Besides," he added, +"in spite of eugenics, feminism, and all the rest--sex, like murder, +will out. There's no use having any false ideas about THAT. Atherton +may see red--but, then, he was quite excited." + +"Over what?" I asked, perplexed more than ever at the turn of events. + +"He called me up in the first place. 'Can't you do something?' he +implored. 'Eugenia is getting worse all the time.' She is, too. I saw +her for a moment, and she was even more vacant than yesterday." + +The thought of the poor girl in the big house somehow brought over me +again my first impression of Poe's story. + +Kennedy had unwrapped the package which proved to be the instrument he +had left in the closet at Atherton's. It was, as I had observed, like +an ordinary wax cylinder phonograph record. + +"You see," explained Kennedy, "it is nothing more than a successful +application at last of, say, one of those phonographs you have seen in +offices for taking dictation, placed so that the feebler vibrations of +the telephone affect it. Let us see what we have here." + +He had attached the cylinder to an ordinary phonograph, and after a +number of routine calls had been run off, he came to this, in voices +which we could only guess at but not recognize, for no names were used. + +"How is she to-day?" + +"Not much changed--perhaps not so well." + +"It's all right, though. That is natural. It is working well. I think +you might increase the dose, one tablet." + +"You're sure it is all right?" (with anxiety). + +"Oh, positively--it has been done in Europe." + +"I hope so. It must be a boy--and an ATHERTON?" + +"Never fear." + +That was all. Who was it? The voices were unfamiliar to me, especially +when repeated mechanically. Besides they may have been disguised. At +any rate we had learned something. Some one was trying to control the +sex of the expected Atherton heir. But that was about all. Who it was, +we knew no better, apparently, than before. + +Kennedy did not seem to care much, however. Quickly he got Quincy +Atherton on the wire and arranged for Atherton to have Dr. Crafts meet +us at the house at eight o'clock that night, with Maude Schofield. Then +he asked that Burroughs Atherton be there, and of course, Edith and +Eugenia. + +We arrived almost as the clock was striking, Kennedy carrying the +phonograph record and another blank record, and a boy tugging along the +machine itself. Dr. Crafts was the next to appear, expressing surprise +at meeting us, and I thought a bit annoyed, for he mentioned that it +had been with reluctance that he had had to give up some work he had +planned for the evening. Maude Schofield, who came with him, looked +bored. Knowing that she disapproved of the match with Eugenia, I was +not surprised. Burroughs arrived, not as late as I had expected, but +almost insultingly supercilious at finding so many strangers at what +Atherton had told him was to be a family conference, in order to get +him to come. Last of all Edith Atherton descended the staircase, the +personification of dignity, bowing to each with a studied graciousness, +as if distributing largess, but greeting Burroughs with an air that +plainly showed how much thicker was blood than water. Eugenia remained +upstairs, lethargic, almost cataleptic, as Atherton told us when we +arrived. + +"I trust you are not going to keep us long, Quincy," yawned Burroughs, +looking ostentatiously at his watch. + +"Only long enough for Professor Kennedy to say a few words about +Eugenia," replied Atherton nervously, bowing to Kennedy. + +Kennedy cleared his throat slowly. + +"I don't know that I have much to say," began Kennedy, still seated. "I +suppose Mr. Atherton has told you I have been much interested in the +peculiar state of health of Mrs. Atherton?" + +No one spoke, and he went on easily: "There is something I might say, +however, about the--er--what I call the chemistry of insanity. Among +the present wonders of science, as you doubtless know, none stirs the +imagination so powerfully as the doctrine that at least some forms of +insanity are the result of chemical changes in the blood. For instance, +ill temper, intoxication, many things are due to chemical changes in +the blood acting on the brain. + +"Go further back. Take typhoid fever with its delirium, influenza with +its suicide mania. All due to toxins--poisons. +Chemistry--chemistry--all of them chemistry." + +Craig had begun carefully so as to win their attention. He had it as he +went on: "Do we not brew within ourselves poisons which enter the +circulation and pervade the system? A sudden emotion upsets the +chemistry of the body. Or poisonous food. Or a drug. It affects many +things. But we could never have had this chemical theory unless we had +had physiological chemistry--and some carry it so far as to say that +the brain secretes thought, just as the liver secretes bile, that +thoughts are the results of molecular changes." + +"You are, then, a materialist of the most pronounced type," asserted +Dr. Crafts. + +Kennedy had been reaching over to a table, toying with the phonograph. +As Crafts spoke he moved a key, and I suspected that it was in order to +catch the words. + +"Not entirely," he said. "No more than some eugenists." + +"In our field," put in Maude Schofield, "I might express the thought +this way--the sociologist has had his day; now it is the biologist, the +eugenist." + +"That expresses it," commented Kennedy, still tinkering with the +record. "Yet it does not mean that because we have new ideas, they +abolish the old. Often they only explain, amplify, supplement. For +instance," he said, looking up at Edith Atherton, "take heredity. Our +knowledge seems new, but is it? Marriages have always been dictated by +a sort of eugenics. Society is founded on that." + +"Precisely," she answered. "The best families have always married into +the best families. These modern notions simply recognize what the best +people have always thought--except that it seems to me," she added with +a sarcastic flourish, "people of no ancestry are trying to force +themselves in among their betters." + +"Very true, Edith," drawled Burroughs, "but we did not have to be +brought here by Quincy to learn that." + +Quincy Atherton had risen during the discussion and had approached +Kennedy. Craig continued to finger the phonograph abstractedly, as he +looked up. + +"About this--this insanity theory," he whispered eagerly. "You think +that the suspicions I had have been justified?" + +I had been watching Kennedy's hand. As soon as Atherton had started to +speak, I saw that Craig, as before, had moved the key, evidently +registering what he said, as he had in the case of the others during +the discussion. + +"One moment, Atherton," he whispered in reply, "I'm coming to that. +Now," he resumed aloud, "there is a disease, or a number of diseases, +to which my remarks about insanity a while ago might apply very well. +They have been known for some time to arise from various affections of +the thyroid glands in the neck. These glands, strange to say, if acted +on in certain ways can cause degenerations of mind and body, which are +well known, but in spite of much study are still very little +understood. For example, there is a definite interrelation between them +and sex--especially in woman." + +Rapidly he sketched what he had already told me of the thyroid and the +hormones. "These hormones," added Kennedy, "are closely related to many +reactions in the body, such as even the mother's secretion of milk at +the proper time and then only. That and many other functions are due to +the presence and character of these chemical secretions from the +thyroid and other ductless glands. It is a fascinating study. For we +know that anything that will upset--reduce or increase--the hormones is +a matter intimately concerned with health. Such changes," he said +earnestly, leaning forward, "might be aimed directly at the very heart +of what otherwise would be a true eugenic marriage. It is even possible +that loss of sex itself might be made to follow deep changes of the +thyroid." + +He stopped a moment. Even if he had accomplished nothing else he had +struck a note which had caused the Athertons to forget their former +superciliousness. + +"If there is an oversupply of thyroid hormones," continued Craig, "that +excess will produce many changes, for instance a condition very much +like exophthalmic goiter. And," he said, straightening up, "I find that +Eugenia Atherton has within her blood an undue proportion of these +thyroid hormones. Now, is it overfunction of the glands, +hyper-secretion--or is it something else?" + +No one moved as Kennedy skillfully led his disclosure along step by +step. + +"That question," he began again slowly, shifting his position in the +chair, "raises in my mind, at least, a question which has often +occurred to me before. Is it possible for a person, taking advantage of +the scientific knowledge we have gained, to devise and successfully +execute a murder without fear of discovery? In other words, can a +person be removed with that technical nicety of detail which will leave +no clue and will be set down as something entirely natural, though +unfortunate?" + +It was a terrible idea he was framing, and he dwelt on it so that we +might accept it at its full value. "As one doctor has said," he added, +"although toxicologists and chemists have not always possessed +infallible tests for practical use, it is at present a pretty certain +observation that every poison leaves its mark. But then on the other +hand, students of criminology have said that a skilled physician or +surgeon is about the only person now capable of carrying out a really +scientific murder. + +"Which is true? It seems to me, at least in the latter case, that the +very nicety of the handiwork must often serve as a clue in itself. The +trained hand leaves the peculiar mark characteristic of its training. +No matter how shrewdly the deed is planned, the execution of it is +daily becoming a more and more difficult feat, thanks to our increasing +knowledge of microbiology and pathology." + +He had risen, as he finished the sentence, every eye fixed on him, as +if he had been a master hypnotist. + +"Perhaps," he said, taking off the cylinder from the phonograph and +placing on one which I knew was that which had lain in the library +closet over night, "perhaps some of the things I have said will explain +or be explained by the record on this cylinder." + +He had started the machine. So magical was the effect on the little +audience that I am tempted to repeat what I had already heard, but had +not myself yet been able to explain: + +"How is she to-day?" + +"Not much changed--perhaps not so well." + +"It's all right, though. That is natural. It is working well. I think +you might increase the dose one tablet." + +"You're sure it is all right?" + +"Oh, positively--it has been done in Europe." + +"I hope so. It must be a boy--and an ATHERTON." + +"Never fear." + +No one moved a muscle. If there was anyone in the room guilty of +playing on the feelings and the health of an unfortunate woman, that +person must have had superb control of his own feelings. + +"As you know," resumed Kennedy thoughtfully, "there are and have been +many theories of sex control. One of the latest, but by no means the +only one, is that it can be done by use of the extracts of various +glands administered to the mother. I do not know with what scientific +authority it was stated, but I do know that some one has recently said +that adrenalin, derived from the suprarenal glands, induces boys to +develop--cholin, from the bile of the liver, girls. It makes no +difference--in this case. There may have been a show of science. But it +was to cover up a crime. Some one has been administering to Eugenia +Atherton tablets of thyroid extract--ostensibly to aid her in +fulfilling the dearest ambition of her soul--to become the mother of a +new line of Athertons which might bear the same relation to the future +of the country as the great family of the Edwards mothered by Elizabeth +Tuttle." + +He was bending over the two phonograph cylinders now, rapidly comparing +the new one which he had made and that which he had just allowed to +reel off its astounding revelation. + +"When a voice speaks into a phonograph," he said, half to himself, "its +modulations received on the diaphragm are written by a needle point +upon the surface of a cylinder or disk in a series of fine waving or +zigzag lines of infinitely varying depth or breadth. Dr. Marage and +others have been able to distinguish vocal sounds by the naked eye on +phonograph records. Mr. Edison has studied them with the microscope in +his world-wide search for the perfect voice. + +"In fact, now it is possible to identify voices by the records they +make, to get at the precise meaning of each slightest variation of the +lines with mathematical accuracy. They can no more be falsified than +handwriting can be forged so that modern science cannot detect it or +than typewriting can be concealed and attributed to another machine. +The voice is like a finger print, a portrait parle--unescapable." + +He glanced up, then back again. "This microscope shows me," he said, +"that the voices on that cylinder you heard are identical with two on +this record which I have just made in this room." + +"Walter," he said, motioning to me, "look." + +I glanced into the eyepiece and saw a series of lines and curves, +peculiar waves lapping together and making an appearance in some spots +almost like tooth marks. Although I did not understand the details of +the thing, I could readily see that by study one might learn as much +about it as about loops, whorls, and arches on finger tips. + +"The upper and lower lines," he explained, "with long regular waves, on +that highly magnified section of the record, are formed by the voice +with no overtones. The three lines in the middle, with rhythmic +ripples, show the overtones." + +He paused a moment and faced us. "Many a person," he resumed, "is a +biotype in whom a full complement of what are called inhibitions never +develops. That is part of your eugenics. Throughout life, and in spite +of the best of training, that person reacts now and then to a certain +stimulus directly. A man stands high; once a year he falls with a +lethal quantity of alcohol. A woman, brilliant, accomplished, slips +away and spends a day with a lover as unlike herself as can be imagined. + +"The voice that interests me most on these records," he went on, +emphasizing the words with one of the cylinders which he still held, +"is that of a person who has been working on the family pride of +another. That person has persuaded the other to administer to Eugenia +an extract because 'it must be a boy and an Atherton.' That person is a +high-class defective, born with a criminal instinct, reacting to it in +an artful way. Thank God, the love of a man whom theoretical eugenics +condemned, roused us in--" + +A cry at the door brought us all to our feet, with hearts thumping as +if they were bursting. + +It was Eugenia Atherton, wild-eyed, erect, staring. + +I stood aghast at the vision. Was she really to be the Lady Madeline in +this fall of the House of Atherton? + +"Edith--I--I missed you. I heard voices. Is--is it true--what this +man--says? Is my--my baby--" + +Quincy Atherton leaped forward and caught her as she reeled. Quickly +Craig threw open a window for air, and as he did so leaned far out and +blew shrilly on a police whistle. + +The young man looked up from Eugenia, over whom he was bending, +scarcely heeding what else went on about him. Still, there was no trace +of anger on his face, in spite of the great wrong that had been done +him. There was room for only one great emotion--only anxiety for the +poor girl who had suffered so cruelly merely for taking his name. + +Kennedy saw the unspoken question in his eyes. + +"Eugenia is a pure normal, as Dr. Crafts told you," he said gently. "A +few weeks, perhaps only days, of treatment--the thyroid will revert to +its normal state--and Eugenia Gilman will be the mother of a new house +of Atherton which may eclipse even the proud record of the founder of +the old." + +"Who blew the whistle?" demanded a gruff voice at the door, as a tall +bluecoat puffed past the scandalized butler. + +"Arrest that woman," pointed Kennedy. "She is the poisoner. Either as +wife of Burroughs, whom she fascinates and controls as she does Edith, +she planned to break the will of Quincy or, in the other event, to +administer the fortune as head of the Eugenics Foundation after the +death of Dr. Crafts, who would have followed Eugenia and Quincy +Atherton." + +I followed the direction of Kennedy's accusing finger. Maude +Schofield's face betrayed more than even her tongue could have +confessed. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +THE BILLIONAIRE BABY + + +Coming to us directly as a result of the talk that the Atherton case +provoked was another that involved the happiness of a wealthy family to +a no less degree. + +"I suppose you have heard of the 'billionaire baby,' Morton Hazleton +III?" asked Kennedy of me one afternoon shortly afterward. + +The mere mention of the name conjured up in my mind a picture of the +lusty two-year-old heir of two fortunes, as the feature articles in the +Star had described that little scion of wealth--his luxurious nursery, +his magnificent toys, his own motor car, a trained nurse and a +detective on guard every hour of the day and night, every possible +precaution for his health and safety. + +"Gad, what a lucky kid!" I exclaimed involuntarily. + +"Oh, I don't know about that," put in Kennedy. "The fortune may be +exaggerated. His happiness is, I'm sure." + +He had pulled from his pocketbook a card and handed it to me. It read: +"Gilbert Butler, American representative, Lloyd's." + +"Lloyd's?" I queried. "What has Lloyd's to do with the billion-dollar +baby?" + +"Very much. The child has been insured with them for some fabulous sum +against accident, including kidnaping." + +"Yes?" I prompted, "sensing" a story. + +"Well, there seem to have been threats of some kind, I understand. Mr. +Butler has called on me once already to-day to retain my services and +is going to--ah--there he is again now." + +Kennedy had answered the door buzzer himself, and Mr. Butler, a tall, +sloping-shouldered Englishman, entered. + +"Has anything new developed?" asked Kennedy, introducing me. + +"I can't say," replied Butler dubiously. "I rather think we have found +something that may have a bearing on the case. You know Miss Haversham, +Veronica Haversham?" + +"The actress and professional beauty? Yes--at least I have seen her. +Why?" + +"We hear that Morton Hazleton knows her, anyhow," remarked Butler dryly. + +"Well?" + +"Then you don't know the gossip?" he cut in. "She is said to be in a +sanitarium near the city. I'll have to find that out for you. It's a +fast set she has been traveling with lately, including not only +Hazleton, but Dr. Maudsley, the Hazleton physician, and one or two +others, who if they were poorer might be called desperate characters." + +"Does Mrs. Hazleton know of--of his reputed intimacy?" + +"I can't say that, either. I presume that she is no fool." + +Morton Hazleton, Jr., I knew, belonged to a rather smart group of young +men. He had been mentioned in several near-scandals, but as far as I +knew there had been nothing quite as public and definite as this one. + +"Wouldn't that account for her fears?" I asked. + +"Hardly," replied Butler, shaking his head. "You see, Mrs. Hazleton is +a nervous wreck, but it's about the baby, and caused, she says, by her +fears for its safety. It came to us only in a roundabout way, through a +servant in the house who keeps us in touch. The curious feature is that +we can seem to get nothing definite from her about her fears. They may +be groundless." + +Butler shrugged his shoulders and proceeded, "And they may be +well-founded. But we prefer to run no chances in a case of this kind. +The child, you know, is guarded in the house. In his perambulator he is +doubly guarded, and when he goes out for his airing in the automobile, +two men, the chauffeur and a detective, are always there, besides his +nurse, and often his mother or grandmother. Even in the nursery suite +they have iron shutters which can be pulled down and padlocked at night +and are constructed so as to give plenty of fresh air even to a +scientific baby. Master Hazleton was the best sort of risk, we thought. +But now--we don't know." + +"You can protect yourselves, though," suggested Kennedy. + +"Yes, we have, under the policy, the right to take certain measures to +protect ourselves in addition to the precautions taken by the +Hazletons. We have added our own detective to those already on duty. +But we--we don't know what to guard against," he concluded, perplexed. +"We'd like to know--that's all. It's too big a risk." + +"I may see Mrs. Hazleton?" mused Kennedy. + +"Yes. Under the circumstances she can scarcely refuse to see anyone we +send. I've arranged already for you to meet her within an hour. Is that +all right?" + +"Certainly." + +The Hazleton home in winter in the city was uptown, facing the river. +The large grounds adjoining made the Hazletons quite independent of the +daily infant parade which one sees along Riverside Drive. + +As we entered the grounds we could almost feel the very atmosphere on +guard. We did not see the little subject of so much concern, but I +remembered his much heralded advent, when his grandparents had settled +a cold million on him, just as a reward for coming into the world. +Evidently, Morton, Sr., had hoped that Morton, Jr., would calm down, +now that there was a third generation to consider. It seemed that he +had not. I wondered if that had really been the occasion of the threats +or whatever it was that had caused Mrs. Hazleton's fears, and whether +Veronica Haversham or any of the fast set around her had had anything +to do with it. + +Millicent Hazleton was a very pretty little woman, in whom one saw +instinctively the artistic temperament. She had been an actress, too, +when young Morton Hazleton married her, and at first, at least, they +had seemed very devoted to each other. + +We were admitted to see her in her own library, a tastefully furnished +room on the second floor of the house, facing a garden at the side. + +"Mrs. Hazleton," began Butler, smoothing the way for us, "of course you +realize that we are working in your interests. Professor Kennedy, +therefore, in a sense, represents both of us." + +"I am quite sure I shall be delighted to help you," she said with an +absent expression, though not ungraciously. + +Butler, having introduced us, courteously withdrew. "I leave this +entirely in your hands," he said, as he excused himself. "If you want +me to do anything more, call on me." + +I must say that I was much surprised at the way she had received us. +Was there in it, I wondered, an element of fear lest if she refused to +talk suspicion might grow even greater? One could see anxiety plainly +enough on her face, as she waited for Kennedy to begin. + +A few moments of general conversation then followed. + +"Just what is it you fear?" he asked, after having gradually led around +to the subject. "Have there been any threatening letters?" + +"N-no," she hesitated, "at least nothing--definite." + +"Gossip?" he hinted. + +"No." She said it so positively that I fancied it might be taken for a +plain "Yes." + +"Then what is it?" he asked, very deferentially, but firmly. + +She had been looking out at the garden. "You couldn't understand," she +remarked. "No detective--" she stopped. + +"You may be sure, Mrs. Hazleton, that I have not come here +unnecessarily to intrude," he reassured her. "It is exactly as Mr. +Butler put it. We--want to help you." + +I fancied there seemed to be something compelling about his manner. It +was at once sympathetic and persuasive. Quite evidently he was taking +pains to break down the prejudice in her mind which she had already +shown toward the ordinary detective. + +"You would think me crazy," she remarked slowly. "But it is just a--a +dream--just dreams." + +I don't think she had intended to say anything, for she stopped short +and looked at him quickly as if to make sure whether he could +understand. As for myself, I must say I felt a little skeptical. To my +surprise, Kennedy seemed to take the statement at its face value. + +"Ah," he remarked, "an anxiety dream? You will pardon me, Mrs. +Hazleton, but before we go further let me tell you frankly that I am +much more than an ordinary detective. If you will permit me, I should +rather have you think of me as a psychologist, a specialist, one who +has come to set your mind at rest rather than to worm things from you +by devious methods against which you have to be on guard. It is just +for such an unusual case as yours that Mr. Butler has called me in. By +the way, as our interview may last a few minutes, would you mind +sitting down? I think you'll find it easier to talk if you can get your +mind perfectly at rest, and for the moment trust to the nurse and the +detectives who are guarding the garden, I am sure, perfectly." + +She had been standing by the window during the interview and was quite +evidently growing more and more nervous. With a bow Kennedy placed her +at her ease on a chaise lounge. + +"Now," he continued, standing near her, but out of sight, "you must try +to remain free from all external influences and impressions. Don't +move. Avoid every use of a muscle. Don't let anything distract you. +Just concentrate your attention on your psychic activities. Don't +suppress one idea as unimportant, irrelevant, or nonsensical. Simply +tell me what occurs to you in connection with the dreams--everything," +emphasized Craig. + +I could not help feeling surprised to find that she accepted Kennedy's +deferential commands, for after all that was what they amounted to. +Almost I felt that she was turning to him for help, that he had broken +down some barrier to her confidence. He seemed to exert a sort of +hypnotic influence over her. + +"I have had cases before which involved dreams," he was saying quietly +and reassuringly. "Believe me, I do not share the world's opinion that +dreams are nothing. Nor yet do I believe in them superstitiously. I can +readily understand how a dream can play a mighty part in shaping the +feelings of a high-tensioned woman. Might I ask exactly what it is you +fear in your dreams?" + +She sank her head back in the cushions, and for a moment closed her +eyes, half in weariness, half in tacit obedience to him. "Oh, I have +such horrible dreams," she said at length, "full of anxiety and fear +for Morton and little Morton. I can't explain it. But they are so +horrible." + +Kennedy said nothing. She was talking freely at last. + +"Only last night," she went on, "I dreamt that Morton was dead. I could +see the funeral, all the preparations, and the procession. It seemed +that in the crowd there was a woman. I could not see her face, but she +had fallen down and the crowd was around her. Then Dr. Maudsley +appeared. Then all of a sudden the dream changed. I thought I was on +the sand, at the seashore, or perhaps a lake. I was with Junior and it +seemed as if he were wading in the water, his head bobbing up and down +in the waves. It was like a desert, too--the sand. I turned, and there +was a lion behind me. I did not seem to be afraid of him, although I +was so close that I could almost feel his shaggy mane. Yet I feared +that he might bite Junior. The next I knew I was running with the child +in my arms. I escaped--and--oh, the relief!" + +She sank back, half exhausted, half terrified still by the recollection. + +"In your dream when Dr. Maudsley appeared," asked Kennedy, evidently +interested in filling in the gap, "what did he do?" + +"Do?" she repeated. "In the dream? Nothing." + +"Are you sure?" he asked, shooting a quick glance at her. + +"Yes. That part of the dream became indistinct. I'm sure he did +nothing, except shoulder through the crowd. I think he had just +entered. Then that part of the dream seemed to end and the second part +began." + +Piece by piece Kennedy went over it, putting it together as if it were +a mosaic. + +"Now, the woman. You say her face was hidden?" + +She hesitated. "N--no. I saw it. But it was no one I knew." + +Kennedy did not dwell on the contradiction, but added, "And the crowd?" + +"Strangers, too." + +"Dr. Maudsley is your family physician?" he questioned. + +"Yes." + +"Did he call--er--yesterday?" + +"He calls every day to supervise the nurse who has Junior in charge." + +"Could one always be true to oneself in the face of any temptation?" he +asked suddenly. + +It was a bold question. Yet such had been the gradual manner of his +leading up to it that, before she knew it, she had answered quite +frankly, "Yes--if one always thought of home and her child, I cannot +see how one could help controlling herself." + +She seemed to catch her breath, almost as though the words had escaped +her before she knew it. + +"Is there anything besides your dream that alarms you," he asked, +changing the subject quickly, "any suspicion of--say the servants?" + +"No," she said, watching him now. "But some time ago we caught a +burglar upstairs here. He managed to escape. That has made me nervous. +I didn't think it was possible." + +"Anything else?" + +"No," she said positively, this time on her guard. + +Kennedy saw that she had made up her mind to say no more. + +"Mrs. Hazleton," he said, rising. "I can hardly thank you too much for +the manner in which you have met my questions. It will make it much +easier for me to quiet your fears. And if anything else occurs to you, +you may rest assured I shall violate no confidences in your telling me." + +I could not help the feeling, however, that there was just a little air +of relief on her face as we left. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + +THE PSYCHANALYSIS + + +"H--M," mused Kennedy as we walked along after leaving the house. +"There were several 'complexes,' as they are called, there--the most +interesting and important being the erotic, as usual. Now, take the +lion in the dream, with his mane. That, I suspect, was Dr. Maudsley. If +you are acquainted with him, you will recall his heavy, almost tawny +beard." + +Kennedy seemed to be revolving something in his mind and I did not +interrupt. I had known him too long to feel that even a dream might not +have its value with him. Indeed, several times before he had given me +glimpses into the fascinating possibilities of the new psychology. + +"In spite of the work of thousands of years, little progress has been +made in the scientific understanding of dreams," he remarked a few +moments later. "Freud, of Vienna--you recall the name?--has done most, +I think in that direction." + +I recalled something of the theories of the Freudists, but said nothing. + +"It is an unpleasant feature of his philosophy," he went on, "but Freud +finds the conclusion irresistible that all humanity underneath the +shell is sensuous and sensual in nature. Practically all dreams betray +some delight of the senses and sexual dreams are a large proportion. +There is, according to the theory, always a wish hidden or expressed in +a dream. The dream is one of three things, the open, the disguised or +the distorted fulfillment of a wish, sometimes recognized, sometimes +repressed. + +"Anxiety dreams are among the most interesting and important Anxiety +may originate in psycho-sexual excitement, the repressed libido, as the +Freudists call it. Neurotic fear has its origin in sexual life and +corresponds to a libido which has been turned away from its object and +has not succeeded in being applied. All so-called day dreams of women +are erotic; of men they are either ambition or love. + +"Often dreams, apparently harmless, turn out to be sinister if we take +pains to interpret them. All have the mark of the beast. For example, +there was that unknown woman who had fallen down and was surrounded by +a crowd. If a woman dreams that, it is sexual. It can mean only a +fallen woman. That is the symbolism. The crowd always denotes a secret. + +"Take also the dream of death. If there is no sorrow felt, then there +is another cause for it. But if there is sorrow, then the dreamer +really desires death or absence. I expect to have you quarrel with +that. But read Freud, and remember that in childhood death is +synonymous with being away. Thus for example, if a girl dreams that her +mother is dead, perhaps it means only that she wishes her away so that +she can enjoy some pleasure that her strict parent, by her presence, +denies. + +"Then there was that dream about the baby in the water. That, I think, +was a dream of birth. You see, I asked her practically to repeat the +dreams because there were several gaps. At such points one usually +finds first hesitation, then something that shows one of the main +complexes. Perhaps the subject grows angry at the discovery. + +"Now, from the tangle of the dream thought, I find that she fears that +her husband is too intimate with another woman, and that perhaps +unconsciously she has turned to Dr. Maudsley for sympathy. Dr. +Maudsley, as I said, is not only bearded, but somewhat of a social +lion. He had called on her the day before. Of such stuff are all dream +lions when there is no fear. But she shows that she has been guilty of +no wrongdoing--she escaped, and felt relieved." + +"I'm glad of that," I put in. "I don't like these scandals. On the Star +when I have to report them, I do it always under protest. I don't know +what your psychanalysis is going to show in the end, but I for one have +the greatest sympathy for that poor little woman in the big house +alone, surrounded by and dependent on servants, while her husband is +out collecting scandals." + +"Which suggests our next step," he said, turning the subject. "I hope +that Butler has found out the retreat of Veronica Haversham." + +We discovered Miss Haversham at last at Dr. Klemm's sanitarium, up in +the hills of Westchester County, a delightful place with a reputation +for its rest cures. Dr. Klemm was an old friend of Kennedy's, having +had some connection with the medical school at the University. + +She had gone up there rather suddenly, it seemed, to recuperate. At +least that was what was given out, though there seemed to be much +mystery about her, and she was taking no treatment as far as was known. + +"Who is her physician?" asked Kennedy of Dr. Klemm as we sat in his +luxurious office. + +"A Dr. Maudsley of the city." + +Kennedy glanced quickly at me in time to check an exclamation. + +"I wonder if I could see her?" + +"Why, of course--if she is willing," replied Dr. Klemm. + +"I will have to have some excuse," ruminated Kennedy. "Tell her I am a +specialist in nervous troubles from the city, have been visiting one of +the other patients, anything." + +Dr. Klemm pulled down a switch on a large oblong oak box on his desk, +asked for Miss Haversham, and waited a moment. + +"What is that?" I asked. + +"A vocaphone," replied Kennedy. "This sanitarium is quite up to date, +Klemm." + +The doctor nodded and smiled. "Yes, Kennedy," he replied. +"Communicating with every suite of rooms we have the vocaphone. I find +it very convenient to have these microphones, as I suppose you would +call them, catching your words without talking into them directly as +you have to do in the telephone and then at the other end emitting the +words without the use of an earpiece, from the box itself, as if from a +megaphone horn. Miss Haversham, this is Dr. Klemm. There is a Dr. +Kennedy here visiting another patient, a specialist from New York. He'd +like very much to see you if you can spare a few minutes." + +"Tell him to come up." The voice seemed to come from the vocaphone as +though she were in the room with us. + +Veronica Haversham was indeed wonderful, one of the leading figures in +the night life of New York, a statuesque brunette of striking beauty, +though I had heard of often ungovernable temper. Yet there was +something strange about her face here. It seemed perhaps a little +yellow, and I am sure that her nose had a peculiar look as if she were +suffering from an incipient rhinitis. The pupils of her eyes were as +fine as pin heads, her eyebrows were slightly elevated. Indeed, I felt +that she had made no mistake in taking a rest if she would preserve the +beauty which had made her popularity so meteoric. + +"Miss Haversham," began Kennedy, "they tell me that you are suffering +from nervousness. Perhaps I can help you. At any rate it will do no +harm to try. I know Dr. Maudsley well, and if he doesn't approve--well, +you may throw the treatment into the waste basket." + +"I'm sure I have no reason to refuse," she said. "What would you +suggest?" + +"Well, first of all, there is a very simple test I'd like to try. You +won't find that it bothers you in the least--and if I can't help you, +then no harm is done." + +Again I watched Kennedy as he tactfully went through the preparations +for another kind of psychanalysis, placing Miss Haversham at her ease +on a davenport in such a way that nothing would distract her attention. +As she reclined against the leather pillows in the shadow it was not +difficult to understand the lure by which she held together the little +coterie of her intimates. One beautiful white arm, bare to the elbow, +hung carelessly over the edge of the davenport, displaying a plain gold +bracelet. + +"Now," began Kennedy, on whom I knew the charms of Miss Haversham +produced a negative effect, although one would never have guessed it +from his manner, "as I read off from this list of words, I wish that +you would repeat the first thing, anything," he emphasized, "that comes +into your head, no matter how trivial it may seem. Don't force yourself +to think. Let your ideas flow naturally. It depends altogether on your +paying attention to the words and answering as quickly as you +can--remember, the first word that comes into your mind. It is easy to +do. We'll call it a game," he reassured. + +Kennedy handed a copy of the list to me to record the answers. There +must have been some fifty words, apparently senseless, chosen at +random, it seemed. They were: + + + head to dance salt white lie + + green sick new child to fear + + water pride to pray sad stork + + to sing ink money to marry false + + death angry foolish dear anxiety + + long needle despise to quarrel to kiss + + ship voyage finger old bride + + to pay to sin expensive family pure + + window bread to fall friend ridicule + + cold rich unjust luck to sleep + + +"The Jung association word test is part of the Freud psychanalysis, +also," he whispered to me, "You remember we tried something based on +the same idea once before?" + +I nodded. I had heard of the thing in connection with blood-pressure +tests, but not this way. + +Kennedy called out the first word, "Head," while in his hand he held a +stop watch which registered to one-fifth of a second. + +Quickly she replied, "Ache," with an involuntary movement of her hand +toward her beautiful forehead. + +"Good," exclaimed Kennedy. "You seem to grasp the idea better than most +of my patients." + +I had recorded the answer, he the time, and we found out, I recall +afterward, that the time averaged something like two and two-fifths +seconds. + +I thought her reply to the second word, "green," was curious. It came +quickly, "Envy." + +However, I shall not attempt to give all the replies, but merely some +of the most significant. There did not seem to be any hesitation about +most of the words, but whenever Kennedy tried to question her about a +word that seemed to him interesting she made either evasive or +hesitating answers, until it became evident that in the back of her +head was some idea which she was repressing and concealing from us, +something that she set off with a mental "No Thoroughfare." + +He had finished going through the list, and Kennedy was now studying +over the answers and comparing the time records. + +"Now," he said at length, running his eye over the words again, "I want +to repeat the performance. Try to remember and duplicate your first +replies," he said. + +Again we went through what at first had seemed to me to be a solemn +farce, but which I began to see was quite important. Sometimes she +would repeat the answer exactly as before. At other times a new word +would occur to her. Kennedy was keen to note all the differences in the +two lists. + +One which I recall because the incident made an impression on me had to +do with the trio, "Death--life--inevitable." + +"Why that?" he asked casually. + +"Haven't you ever heard the saying, 'One should let nothing which one +can have escape, even if a little wrong is done; no opportunity should +be missed; life is so short, death inevitable'?" + +There were several others which to Kennedy seemed more important, but +long after we had finished I pondered this answer. Was that her +philosophy of life? Undoubtedly she would never have remembered the +phrase if it had not been so, at least in a measure. + +She had begun to show signs of weariness, and Kennedy quickly brought +the conversation around to subjects of apparently a general nature, but +skillfully contrived so as to lead the way along lines her answers had +indicated. + +Kennedy had risen to go, still chatting. Almost unintentionally he +picked up from a dressing table a bottle of white tablets, without a +label, shaking it to emphasize an entirely, and I believe purposely, +irrelevant remark. + +"By the way," he said, breaking off naturally, "what is that?" + +"Only something Dr. Maudsley had prescribed for me," she answered +quickly. + +As he replaced the bottle and went on with the thread of the +conversation, I saw that in shaking the bottle he had abstracted a +couple of the tablets before she realized it. "I can't tell you just +what to do without thinking the case over," he concluded, rising to go. +"Yours is a peculiar case, Miss Haversham, baffling. I'll have to study +it over, perhaps ask Dr. Maudsley If I may see you again. Meanwhile, I +am sure what he is doing is the correct thing." + +Inasmuch as she had said nothing about what Dr. Maudsley was doing, I +wondered whether there was not just a trace of suspicion in her glance +at him from under her long dark lashes. + +"I can't see that you have done anything," she remarked pointedly. "But +then doctors are queer--queer." + +That parting shot also had in it, for me, something to ponder over. In +fact I began to wonder if she might not be a great deal more clever +than even Kennedy gave her credit for being, whether she might not have +submitted to his tests for pure love of pulling the wool over his eyes. + +Downstairs again, Kennedy paused only long enough to speak a few words +with his friend Dr. Klemm. + +"I suppose you have no idea what Dr. Maudsley has prescribed for her?" +he asked carelessly. + +"Nothing, as far as I know, except rest and simple food." + +He seemed to hesitate, then he said under his voice, "I suppose you +know that she is a regular dope fiend, seasons her cigarettes with +opium, and all that." + +"I guessed as much," remarked Kennedy, "but how does she get it here?" + +"She doesn't." + +"I see," remarked Craig, apparently weighing now the man before him. At +length he seemed to decide to risk something. + +"Klemm," he said, "I wish you would do something for me. I see you have +the vocaphone here. Now if--say Hazleton--should call--will you listen +in on that vocaphone for me?" Dr. Klemm looked squarely at him. + +"Kennedy," he said, "it's unprofessional, but---" + +"So it is to let her be doped up under guise of a cure." + +"What?" he asked, startled. "She's getting the stuff now?" + +"No, I didn't say she was getting opium, or from anyone here. All the +same, if you would just keep an ear open---" + +"It's unprofessional, but--you'd not ask it without a good reason. I'll +try." + +It was very late when we got back to the city and we dined at an uptown +restaurant which we had almost to ourselves. + +Kennedy had placed the little whitish tablets in a small paper packet +for safe keeping. As we waited for our order he drew one from his +pocket, and after looking at it a moment crushed it to a powder in the +paper. + +"What is it?" I asked curiously. "Cocaine?" + +"No," he said, shaking his head doubtfully. + +He had tried to dissolve a little of the powder in some water from the +glass before him, but it would not dissolve. + +As he continued to look at it his eye fell on the cut-glass vinegar +cruet before us. It was full of the white vinegar. + +"Really acetic acid," he remarked, pouring out a little. + +The white powder dissolved. + +For several minutes he continued looking at the stuff. + +"That, I think," he remarked finally, "is heroin." + +"More 'happy dust'?" I replied with added interest now, thinking of our +previous case. "Is the habit so extensive?" + +"Yes," he replied, "the habit is comparatively new, although in Paris, +I believe, they call the drug fiends, 'heroinomaniacs.' It is, as I +told you before, a derivative of morphine. Its scientific name is +diacetyl-morphin. It is New York's newest peril, one of the most +dangerous drugs yet. Thousands are slaves to it, although its sale is +supposedly restricted. It is rotting the heart out of the Tenderloin. +Did you notice Veronica Haversham's yellowish whiteness, her down-drawn +mouth, elevated eyebrows, and contracted eyes? She may have taken it up +to escape other drugs. Some people have--and have just got a new habit. +It can be taken hypodermically, or in a tablet, or by powdering the +tablet to a white crystalline powder and snuffing up the nose. That's +the way she takes it. It produces rhinitis of the nasal passages, which +I see you observed, but did not understand. It has a more profound +effect than morphine, and is ten times as powerful as codeine. And one +of the worst features is that so many people start with it, thinking it +is as harmless as it has been advertised. I wouldn't be surprised if +she used from seventy-five to a hundred one-twelfth grain tablets a +day. Some of them do, you know." + +"And Dr. Maudsley," I asked quickly, "do you think it is through him or +in spite of him?" + +"That's what I'd like to know. About those words," he continued, "what +did you make of the list and the answers?" + +I had made nothing and said so, rather quickly. + +"Those," he explained, "were words selected and arranged to strike +almost all the common complexes in analyzing and diagnosing. You'd +think any intelligent person could give a fluent answer to them, +perhaps a misleading answer. But try it yourself, Walter. You'll find +you can't. You may start all right, but not all the words will be +reacted to in the same time or with the same smoothness and ease. Yet, +like the expressions of a dream, they often seem senseless. But they +have a meaning as soon as they are 'psychanalyzed.' All the mistakes in +answering the second time, for example, have a reason, if we can only +get at it. They are not arbitrary answers, but betray the inmost +subconscious thoughts, those things marked, split off from +consciousness and repressed into the unconscious. Associations, like +dreams, never lie. You may try to conceal the emotions and unconscious +actions, but you can't." + +I listened, fascinated by Kennedy's explanation. + +"Anyone can see that that woman has something on her mind besides the +heroin habit. It may be that she is trying to shake the habit off in +order to do it; it may be that she seeks relief from her thoughts by +refuge in the habit; and it may be that some one has purposely caused +her to contract this new habit in the guise of throwing off an old. The +only way by which to find out is to study the case." + +He paused. He had me keenly on edge, but I knew that he was not yet in +a position to answer his queries positively. + +"Now I found," he went on, "that the religious complexes were extremely +few; as I expected the erotic were many. If you will look over the +three lists you will find something queer about every such word as, +'child, 'to marry,' 'bride,' 'to lie,' 'stork,' and so on. We're on the +right track. That woman does know something about that child." + +"My eye catches the words 'to sin,' 'to fall,' 'pure,' and others," I +remarked, glancing over the list. + +"Yes, there's something there, too. I got the hint for the drug from +her hesitation over 'needle' and 'white.' But the main complex has to +do with words relating to that child and to love. In short, I think we +are going to find it to be the reverse of the rule of the French, that +it will be a case of 'cherchez l'homme.'" + +Early the next day Kennedy, after a night of studying over the case, +journeyed up to the sanitarium again. We found Dr. Klemm eager to meet +us. + +"What is it?" asked Kennedy, equally eager. + +"I overheard some surprising things over the vocaphone," he hastened. +"Hazleton called. Why, there must have been some wild orgies in that +precious set of theirs, and, would you believe it, many of them seem to +have been at what Dr. Maudsley calls his 'stable studio,' a den he has +fixed up artistically over his garage on a side street." + +"Indeed?" + +"I couldn't get it all, but I did hear her repeating over and over to +Hazleton, 'Aren't you all mine? Aren't you all mine?' There must be +some vague jealousy lurking in the heart of that ardent woman. I can't +figure it out." + +"I'd like to see her again," remarked Kennedy. "Will you ask her if I +may?" + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI + +THE ENDS OF JUSTICE + + +A few minutes later we were in the sitting room of her suite. She +received us rather ungraciously, I thought. + +"Do you feel any better?" asked Kennedy. + +"No," she replied curtly. "Excuse me for a moment. I wish to see that +maid of mine. Clarisse!" + +She had hardly left the room when Kennedy was on his feet. The bottle +of white tablets, nearly empty, was still on the table. I saw him take +some very fine white powder and dust it quickly over the bottle. It +seemed to adhere, and from his pocket he quickly drew a piece of what +seemed to be specially prepared paper, laid it over the bottle where +the powder adhered, fitting it over the curves. He withdrew it quickly, +for outside we heard her light step, returning. I am sure she either +saw or suspected that Kennedy had been touching the bottle of tablets, +for there was a look of startled fear on her face. + +"Then you do not feel like continuing the tests we abandoned last +night?" asked Kennedy, apparently not noticing her look. + +"No, I do not," she almost snapped. "You--you are detectives. Mrs. +Hazleton has sent you." + +"Indeed, Mrs. Hazleton has not sent us," insisted Kennedy, never for an +instant showing his surprise at her mention of the name. + +"You are. You can tell her, you can tell everybody. I'll tell--I'll +tell myself. I won't wait. That child is mine--mine--not hers. Now--go!" + +Veronica Haversham on the stage never towered in a fit of passion as +she did now in real life, as her ungovernable feelings broke forth +tempestuously on us. + +I was astounded, bewildered at the revelation, the possibilities in +those simple words, "The child is mine." For a moment I was stunned. +Then as the full meaning dawned on me I wondered in a flood of +consciousness whether it was true. Was it the product of her +drug-disordered brain? Had her desperate love for Hazleton produced a +hallucination? + +Kennedy, silent, saw that the case demanded quick action. I shall never +forget the breathless ride down from the sanitarium to the Hazleton +house on Riverside Drive. + +"Mrs. Hazleton," he cried, as we hurried in, "you will pardon me for +this unceremonious intrusion, but it is most important. May I trouble +you to place your fingers on this paper--so?" + +He held out to her a piece of the prepared paper. She looked at him +once, then saw from his face that he was not to be questioned. Almost +tremulously she did as he said, saying not a word. I wondered whether +she knew the story of Veronica, or whether so far only hints of it had +been brought to her. + +"Thank you," he said quickly. "Now, if I may see Morton?" + +It was the first time we had seen the baby about whom the rapidly +thickening events were crowding. He was a perfect specimen of +well-cared-for, scientific infant. + +Kennedy took the little chubby fingers playfully in his own. He seemed +at once to win the child's confidence, though he may have violated +scientific rules. One by one he pressed the little fingers on the +paper, until little Morton crowed with delight as one little piggy +after another "went to market." He had deserted thousands of dollars' +worth of toys just to play with the simple piece of paper Kennedy had +brought with him. As I looked at him, I thought of what Kennedy had +said at the start. Perhaps this innocent child was not to be envied +after all. I could hardly restrain my excitement over the astounding +situation which had suddenly developed. + +"That will do," announced Kennedy finally, carelessly folding up the +paper and slipping it into his pocket. "You must excuse me now." + +"You see," he explained on the way to the laboratory, "that powder +adheres to fresh finger prints, taking all the gradations. Then the +paper with its paraffine and glycerine coating takes off the powder." + +In the laboratory he buried himself in work, with microscope compasses, +calipers, while I fumed impotently at the window. + +"Walter," he called suddenly, "get Dr. Maudsley on the telephone. Tell +him to come immediately to the laboratory." + +Meanwhile Kennedy was busy arranging what he had discovered in logical +order and putting on it the finishing touches. + +As Dr. Maudsley entered Kennedy greeted him and began by plunging +directly into the case in answer to his rather discourteous inquiry as +to why he had been so hastily summoned. + +"Dr. Maudsley," said Craig, "I have asked you to call alone because, +while I am on the verge of discovering the truth in an important case +affecting Morton Hazleton and his wife, I am frankly perplexed as to +how to go ahead." + +The doctor seemed to shake with excitement as Kennedy proceeded. + +"Dr. Maudsley," Craig added, dropping his voice, "is Morton III the son +of Millicent Hazleton or not? You were the physician in attendance on +her at the birth. Is he?" + +Maudsley had been watching Kennedy furtively at first, but as he rapped +out the words I thought the doctor's eyes would pop out of his head. +Perspiration in great beads collected on his face. + +"P--professor K--Kennedy," he muttered, frantically rubbing his face +and lower jaw as if to compose the agitation he could so ill conceal, +"let me explain." + +"Yes, yes--go on," urged Kennedy. + +"Mrs. Hazleton's baby was born--dead. I knew how much she and the rest +of the family had longed for an heir, how much it meant. And +I--substituted for the dead child a newborn baby from the maternity +hospital. It--it belonged to Veronica Haversham--then a poor chorus +girl. I did not intend that she should ever know it. I intended that +she should think her baby was dead. But in some way she found out. +Since then she has become a famous beauty, has numbered among her +friends even Hazleton himself. For nearly two years I have tried to +keep her from divulging the secret. From time to time hints of it have +leaked out. I knew that if Hazleton with his infatuation of her were to +learn---" + +"And Mrs. Hazleton, has she been told?" interrupted Kennedy. + +"I have been trying to keep it from her as long as I can, but it has +been difficult to keep Veronica from telling it. Hazleton himself was +so wild over her. And she wanted her son as she---" + +"Maudsley," snapped out Kennedy, slapping down on the table the mass of +prints and charts which he had hurriedly collected and was studying, +"you lie! Morton is Millicent Hazleton's son. The whole story is +blackmail. I knew it when she told me of her dreams and I suspected +first some such devilish scheme as yours. Now I know it scientifically." + +He turned over the prints. + +"I suppose that study of these prints, Maudsley, will convey nothing to +you. I know that it is usually stated that there are no two sets of +finger prints in the world that are identical or that can be confused. +Still, there are certain similarities of finger prints and other +characteristics, and these similarities have recently been exhaustively +studied by Bertilion, who has found that there are clear relationships +sometimes between mother and child in these respects. If Solomon were +alive, doctor, he would not now have to resort to the expedient to +which he did when the two women disputed over the right to the living +child. Modern science is now deciding by exact laboratory methods the +same problem as he solved by his unique knowledge of feminine +psychology. + +"I saw how this case was tending. Not a moment too soon, I said to +myself, 'The hand of the child will tell.' By the very variations in +unlike things, such as finger and palm prints, as tabulated and +arranged by Bertillon after study in thousands of cases, by the very +loops, whorls, arches and composites, I have proved my case. + +"The dominancy, not the identity, of heredity through the infinite +varieties of finger markings is sometimes very striking. Unique +patterns in a parent have been repeated with marvelous accuracy in the +child. I knew that negative results might prove nothing in regard to +parentage, a caution which it is important to observe. But I was +prepared to meet even that. + +"I would have gone on into other studies, such as Tammasia's, of +heredity in the veining of the back of the hands; I would have measured +the hands, compared the relative proportion of the parts; I would have +studied them under the X-ray as they are being studied to-day; I would +have tried the Reichert blood crystal test which is being perfected now +so that it will tell heredity itself. There is no scientific stone I +would have left unturned until I had delved at the truth of this +riddle. Fortunately it was not necessary. Simple finger prints have +told me enough. And best of all, it has been in time to frustrate that +devilish scheme you and Veronica Haversham have been slowly unfolding." + +Maudsley crumpled up, as it were, at Kennedy's denunciation. He seemed +to shrink toward the door. + +"Yes," cried Kennedy, with extended forefinger, "you may go--for the +present. Don't try to run away. You're watched from this moment on." + +Maudsley had retreated precipitately. + +I looked at Kennedy inquiringly. What to do? It was indeed a delicate +situation, requiring the utmost care to handle. If the story had been +told to Hazleton, what might he not have already done? He must be found +first of all if we were to meet the conspiracy of these two. + +Kennedy reached quickly for the telephone. "There is one stream of +scandal that can be dammed at its source," he remarked, calling a +number. "Hello. Klemm's Sanitarium? I'd like to speak with Miss +Haversham. What--gone? Disappeared? Escaped?" + +He hung up the receiver and looked at me blankly. I was speechless. + +A thousand ideas flew through our minds at once. Had she perceived the +import of our last visit and was she now on her way to complete her +plotted slander of Millicent Hazleton, though it pulled down on herself +in the end the whole structure? + +Hastily Kennedy called Hazleton's home, Butler, and one after another +of Hazleton's favorite clubs. It was not until noon that Butler himself +found him and came with him, under protest, to the laboratory. + +"What is it--what have you found?" cried Butler, his lean form a-quiver +with suppressed excitement. + +Briefly, one fact after another, sparing Hazleton nothing, Kennedy +poured forth the story, how by hint and innuendo Maudsley had been +working on Millicent, undermining her, little knowing that he had +attacked in her a very tower of strength, how Veronica, infatuated by +him, had infatuated him, had led him on step by step. + +Pale and agitated, with nerves unstrung by the life he had been +leading, Hazleton listened. And as Kennedy hammered one fact after +another home, he clenched his fists until the nails dug into his very +palms. + +"The scoundrels," he ground out, as Kennedy finished by painting the +picture of the brave little broken-hearted woman fighting off she knew +not what, and the golden-haired, innocent baby stretching out his arms +in glee at the very chance to prove that he was what he was. "The +scoundrels--take me to Maudsley now. I must see Maudsley. Quick!" + +As we pulled up before the door of the reconstructed stable-studio, +Kennedy jumped out. The door was unlocked. Up the broad flight of +stairs, Hazleton went two at a time. We followed him closely. + +Lying on the divan in the room that had been the scene of so many +orgies, locked in each other's arms, were two figures--Veronica +Haversham and Dr. Maudsley. + +She must have gone there directly after our visit to Dr. Klemm's, must +have been waiting for him when he returned with his story of the +exposure to answer her fears of us as Mrs. Hazleton's detectives. In a +frenzy of intoxication she must have flung her arms blindly about him +in a last wild embrace. + +Hazleton looked, aghast. + +He leaned over and took her arm. Before he could frame the name, +"Veronica!" he had recoiled. + +The two were cold and rigid. + +"An overdose of heroin this time," muttered Kennedy. + +My head was in a whirl. + +Hazleton stared blankly at the two figures abjectly lying before him, +as the truth burned itself indelibly into his soul. He covered his face +with his hands. And still he saw it all. + +Craig said nothing. He was content to let what he had shown work in the +man's mind. + +"For the sake of--that baby--would she--would she forgive?" asked +Hazleton, turning desperately toward Kennedy. + +Deliberately Kennedy faced him, not as scientist and millionaire, but +as man and man. + +"From my psychanalysis," he said slowly, "I should say that it IS +within your power, in time, to change those dreams." + +Hazleton grasped Kennedy's hand before he knew it. + +"Kennedy--home--quick. This is the first manful impulse I have had for +two years. And, Jameson--you'll tone down that part of it in the +newspapers that Junior--might read--when he grows up?" + + +THE END + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The War Terror, by Arthur B. 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Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: The War Terror + +Author: Arthur B. Reeve + +Release Date: February, 2004 [EBook #5073] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on April 14, 2002] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WAR TERROR *** + + + + +Produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + +THE CRAIG KENNEDY SERIES + +THE WAR TERROR + +BY ARTHUR B. REEVE + + +FRONTISPIECE BY WILL FOSTER + + + + +CONTENTS + +CHAPTER + + INTRODUCTION + I. THE WAR TERROR + II. THE ELECTRO-MAGNETIC GUN + III. THE MURDER SYNDICATE + IV. THE AIR PIRATE + V. THE ULTRA-VIOLET RAY + VI. THE TRIPLE MIRROR + VII. THE WIRELESS WIRETAPPERS + VIII. THE HOUSEBOAT MYSTERY + IX. THE RADIO DETECTIVE + X. THE CURIO SHOP + XI. THE "PILLAR OF DEATH" + XII. THE ARROW POISON + XIII. THE RADIUM ROBBER + XIV. THE SPINTHARISCOPE + XV. THE ASPHYXIATING SAFE + XVI. THE DEAD LINE + XVII. THE PASTE REPLICA + XVIII. THE BURGLAR'S MICROPHONE + XIX. THE GERM LETTER + XX. THE ARTIFICIAL KIDNEY + XXI. THE POISON BRACELET + XXII. THE DEVIL WORSHIPERS + XXIII. THE PSYCHIC CURSE + XXIV. THE SERPENT'S TOOTH + XXV. THE "HAPPY DUST" + XXVI. THE BINET TEST + XXVII. THE LIE DETECTOR + XXVIII. THE FAMILY SKELETON + XXIX. THE LEAD POISONER + XXX. THE ELECTROLYTIC MURDER + XXXI. THE EUGENIC BRIDE + XXXII. THE GERM PLASM + XXXIII. THE SEX CONTROL + XXXIV. THE BILLIONAIRE BABY + XXXV. THE PSYCHANALYSIS + XXXVI. THE ENDS OF JUSTICE + + + + +INTRODUCTION + + +As I look back now on the sensational events of the past months +since the great European War began, it seems to me as if there had +never been a period in Craig Kennedy's life more replete with +thrilling adventures than this. + +In fact, scarcely had one mysterious event been straightened out +from the tangled skein, when another, even more baffling, crowded +on its very heels. + +As was to have been expected with us in America, not all of these +remarkable experiences grew either directly or indirectly out of +the war, but there were several that did, and they proved to be +only the beginning of a succession of events which kept me busy +chronicling for the Star the exploits of my capable and versatile +friend. + +Altogether, this period of the war was, I am sure, quite the most +exciting of the many series of episodes through which Craig has +been called upon to go. Yet he seemed to meet each situation as it +arose with a fresh mind, which was amazing even to me who have +known him so long and so intimately. + +As was naturally to be supposed, also, at such a time, it was not +long before Craig found himself entangled in the marvelous spy +system of the warring European nations. These systems revealed +their devious and dark ways, ramifying as they did tentacle-like +even across the ocean in their efforts to gain their ends in +neutral America. Not only so, but, as I shall some day endeavor to +show later, when the ban of silence imposed by neutrality is +raised after the war, many of the horrors of the war were brought +home intimately to us. + +I have, after mature consideration, decided that even at present +nothing but good can come from the publication at least of some +part of the strange series of adventures through which Kennedy and +I have just gone, especially those which might, if we had not +succeeded, have caused most important changes in current history. +As for the other adventures, no question can be raised about the +propriety of their publication. + +At any rate, it came about that early in August, when the war +cloud was just beginning to loom blackest, Kennedy was +unexpectedly called into one of the strangest, most dangerous +situations in which his peculiar and perilous profession had ever +involved him. + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE WAR TERROR + + +"I must see Professor Kennedy--where is he?--I must see him, for +God's sake!" + +I was almost carried off my feet by the inrush of a wild-eyed +girl, seemingly half crazed with excitement, as she cried out +Craig's name. + +Startled by my own involuntary exclamation of surprise which +followed the vision that shot past me as I opened our door in +response to a sudden, sharp series of pushes at the buzzer, +Kennedy bounded swiftly toward me, and the girl almost flung +herself upon him. + +"Why, Miss--er--Miss--my dear young lady--what's the matter?" he +stammered, catching her by the arm gently. + +As Kennedy forced our strange visitor into a chair, I observed +that she was all a-tremble. Her teeth fairly chattered. +Alternately her nervous, peaceless hands clutched at an imaginary +something in the air, as if for support, then, finding none, she +would let her wrists fall supine, while she gazed about with +quivering lips and wild, restless eyes. Plainly, there was +something she feared. She was almost over the verge of hysteria. + +She was a striking girl, of medium height and slender form, but it +was her face that fascinated me, with its delicately molded +features, intense unfathomable eyes of dark brown, and lips that +showed her idealistic, high-strung temperament. + +"Please," he soothed, "get yourself together, please--try! What is +the matter?" + +She looked about, as if she feared that the very walls had eyes +and ears. Yet there seemed to be something bursting from her lips +that she could not restrain. + +"My life," she cried wildly, "my life is at stake. Oh--help me, +help me! Unless I commit a murder to-night, I shall be killed +myself!" + +The words sounded so doubly strange from a girl of her evident +refinement that I watched her narrowly, not sure yet but that we +had a plain case of insanity to deal with. + +"A murder?" repeated Kennedy incredulously. "YOU commit a murder?" + +Her eyes rested on him, as if fascinated, but she did not flinch +as she replied desperately, "Yes--Baron Kreiger--you know, the +German diplomat and financier, who is in America raising money and +arousing sympathy with his country." + +"Baron Kreiger!" exclaimed Kennedy in surprise, looking at her +more keenly. + +We had not met the Baron, but we had heard much about him, young, +handsome, of an old family, trusted already in spite of his youth +by many of the more advanced of old world financial and political +leaders, one who had made a most favorable impression on +democratic America at a time when such impressions were valuable. + +Glancing from one of us to the other, she seemed suddenly, with a +great effort, to recollect herself, for she reached into her +chatelaine and pulled out a card from a case. + +It read simply, "Miss Paula Lowe." + +"Yes," she replied, more calmly now to Kennedy's repetition of the +Baron's name, "you see, I belong to a secret group." She appeared +to hesitate, then suddenly added, "I am an anarchist." + +She watched the effect of her confession and, finding the look on +Kennedy's face encouraging rather than shocked, went on +breathlessly: "We are fighting war with war--this iron-bound +organization of men and women. We have pledged ourselves to +exterminate all kings, emperors and rulers, ministers of war, +generals--but first of all the financiers who lend money that +makes war possible." + +She paused, her eyes gleaming momentarily with something like the +militant enthusiasm that must have enlisted her in the paradoxical +war against war. + +"We are at least going to make another war impossible!" she +exclaimed, for the moment evidently forgetting herself. + +"And your plan?" prompted Kennedy, in the most matter-of-fact +manner, as though he were discussing an ordinary campaign for +social betterment. "How were you to--reach the Baron?" + +"We had a drawing," she answered with amazing calmness, as if the +mere telling relieved her pent-up feelings. "Another woman and I +were chosen. We knew the Baron's weakness for a pretty face. We +planned to become acquainted with him--lure him on." + +Her voice trailed off, as if, the first burst of confidence over, +she felt something that would lock her secret tighter in her +breast. + +A moment later she resumed, now talking rapidly, disconnectedly, +giving Kennedy no chance to interrupt or guide the conversation. + +"You don't know, Professor Kennedy," she began again, "but there +are similar groups to ours in European countries and the plan is +to strike terror and consternation everywhere in the world at +once. Why, at our headquarters there have been drawn up plans and +agreements with other groups and there are set down the time, +place, and manner of all the--the removals." + +Momentarily she seemed to be carried away by something like the +fanaticism of the fervor which had at first captured her, even +still held her as she recited her incredible story. + +"Oh, can't you understand?" she went on, as if to justify herself. +"The increase in armies, the frightful implements of slaughter, +the total failure of the peace propaganda--they have all defied +civilization! + +"And then, too, the old, red-blooded emotions of battle have all +been eliminated by the mechanical conditions of modern warfare in +which men and women are just so many units, automata. Don't you +see? To fight war with its own weapons--that has become the only +last resort." + +Her eager, flushed face betrayed the enthusiasm which had once +carried her into the "Group," as she called it. I wondered what +had brought her now to us. + +"We are no longer making war against man," she cried. "We are +making war against picric acid and electric wires!" + +I confess that I could not help thinking that there was no doubt +that to a certain type of mind the reasoning might appeal most +strongly. + +"And you would do it in war time, too?" asked Kennedy quickly. + +She was ready with an answer. "King George of Greece was killed at +the head of his troops. Remember Nazim Pasha, too. Such people are +easily reached in time of peace and in time of war, also, by +sympathizers on their own side. That's it, you see--we have +followers of all nationalities." + +She stopped, her burst of enthusiasm spent. A moment later she +leaned forward, her clean-cut profile showing her more earnest +than before. "But, oh, Professor Kennedy," she added, "it is +working itself out to be more terrible than war itself!" + +"Have any of the plans been carried out yet?" asked Craig, I +thought a little superciliously, for there had certainly been no +such wholesale assassination yet as she had hinted at. + +She seemed to catch her breath. "Yes," she murmured, then checked +herself as if in fear of saying too much. "That is, I--I think +so." + +I wondered if she were concealing something, perhaps had already +had a hand in some such enterprise and it had frightened her. + +Kennedy leaned forward, observing the girl's discomfiture. "Miss +Lowe," he said, catching her eye and holding it almost +hypnotically, "why have you come to see me?" + +The question, pointblank, seemed to startle her. Evidently she had +thought to tell only as little as necessary, and in her own way. +She gave a little nervous laugh, as if to pass it off. But +Kennedy's eyes conquered. + +"Oh, can't you understand yet?" she exclaimed, rising passionately +and throwing out her arms in appeal. "I was carried away with my +hatred of war. I hate it yet. But now--the sudden realization of +what this compact all means has--well, caused something in me to-- +to snap. I don't care what oath I have taken. Oh, Professor +Kennedy, you--you must save him!" + +I looked up at her quickly. What did she mean? At first she had +come to be saved herself. "You must save him!" she implored. + +Our door buzzer sounded. + +She gazed about with a hunted look, as if she felt that some one +had even now pursued her and found out. + +"What shall I do?" she whispered. "Where shall I go?" + +"Quick--in here. No one will know," urged Kennedy, opening the +door to his room. He paused for an instant, hurriedly. "Tell me-- +have you and this other woman met the Baron yet? How far has it +gone?" + +The look she gave him was peculiar. I could not fathom what was +going on in her mind. But there was no hesitation about her +answer. "Yes," she replied, "I--we have met him. He is to come +back to New York from Washington to-day--this afternoon--to +arrange a private loan of five million dollars with some bankers +secretly. We were to see him to-night--a quiet dinner, after an +automobile ride up the Hudson--" + +"Both of you?" interrupted Craig. + +"Yes--that--that other woman and myself," she repeated, with a +peculiar catch in her voice. "To-night was the time fixed in the +drawing for the--" + +The word stuck in her throat. Kennedy understood. "Yes, yes," he +encouraged, "but who is the other woman?" + +Before she could reply, the buzzer had sounded again and she had +retreated from the door. Quickly Kennedy closed it and opened the +outside door. + +It was our old friend Burke of the Secret Service. + +Without a word of greeting, a hasty glance seemed to assure him +that Kennedy and I were alone. He closed the door himself, and, +instead of sitting down, came close to Craig. + +"Kennedy," he blurted out in a tone of suppressed excitement, "can +I trust you to keep a big secret?" + +Craig looked at him reproachfully, but said nothing. + +"I beg your pardon--a thousand times," hastened Burke. "I was so +excited, I wasn't thinking--" + +"Once is enough, Burke," laughed Kennedy, his good nature restored +at Burke's crestfallen appearance. + +"Well, you see," went on the Secret Service man, "this thing is so +very important that--well, I forgot." + +He sat down and hitched his chair close to us, as he went on in a +lowered, almost awestruck tone. + +"Kennedy," he whispered, "I'm on the trail, I think, of something +growing out of these terrible conditions in Europe that will tax +the best in the Secret Service. Think of it, man. There's an +organization, right here in this city, a sort of assassin's club, +as it were, aimed at all the powerful men the world over. Why, the +most refined and intellectual reformers have joined with the most +red-handed anarchists and--" + +"Sh! not so loud," cautioned Craig. "I think I have one of them in +the next room. Have they done anything yet to the Baron?" + +It was Burke's turn now to look from one to the other of us in +unfeigned surprise that we should already know something of his +secret. + +"The Baron?" he repeated, lowering his voice. "What Baron?" + +It was evident that Burke knew nothing, at least of this new plot +which Miss Lowe had indicated. Kennedy beckoned him over to the +window furthest from the door to his own room. + +"What have you discovered?" he asked, forestalling Burke in the +questioning. "What has happened?" + +"You haven't heard, then?" replied Burke. + +Kennedy nodded negatively. + +"Fortescue, the American inventor of fortescite, the new +explosive, died very strangely this morning." + +"Yes," encouraged Kennedy, as Burke came to a full stop to observe +the effect of the information. + +"Most incomprehensible, too," he pursued. "No cause, apparently. +But it might have been overlooked, perhaps, except for one thing. +It wasn't known generally, but Fortescue had just perfected a +successful electro-magnetic gun--powderless, smokeless, flashless, +noiseless and of tremendous power. To-morrow he was to have signed +the contract to sell it to England. This morning he is found dead +and the final plans of the gun are gone!" + +Kennedy and Burke were standing mutely looking at each other. + +"Who is in the next room?" whispered Burke hoarsely, recollecting +Kennedy's caution of silence. + +Kennedy did not reply immediately. He was evidently much excited +by Burke's news of the wonderful electro-magnetic gun. + +"Burke," he exclaimed suddenly, "let's join forces. I think we are +both on the trail of a world-wide conspiracy--a sort of murder +syndicate to wipe out war!" + +Burke's only reply was a low whistle that involuntarily escaped +him as he reached over and grasped Craig's hand, which to him +represented the sealing of the compact. + +As for me, I could not restrain a mental shudder at the power that +their first murder had evidently placed in the hands of the +anarchists, if they indeed had the electro-magnetic gun which +inventors had been seeking for generations. What might they not do +with it--perhaps even use it themselves and turn the latest +invention against society itself! + +Hastily Craig gave a whispered account of our strange visit from +Miss Lowe, while Burke listened, open-mouthed. + +He had scarcely finished when he reached for the telephone and +asked for long distance. + +"Is this the German embassy in Washington?" asked Craig a few +moments later when he got his number. "This is Craig Kennedy, in +New York. The United States Secret Service will vouch for me-- +mention to them Mr. Burke of their New York office who is here +with me now. I understand that Baron Kreiger is leaving for New +York to meet some bankers this afternoon. He must not do so. He is +in the gravest danger if he--What? He left last night at midnight +and is already here?" + +Kennedy turned to us blankly. + +The door to his room opened suddenly. + +There stood Miss Lowe, gazing wild-eyed at us. Evidently her +supernervous condition had heightened the keenness of her senses. +She had heard what we were saying. I tried to read her face. It +was not fear that I saw there. It was rage; it was jealousy. + +"The traitress--it is Marie!" she shrieked. + +For a moment, obtusely, I did not understand. + +"She has made a secret appointment with him," she cried. + +At last I saw the truth. Paula Lowe had fallen in love with the +man she had sworn to kill! + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE ELECTRO-MAGNETIC GUN + + +"What shall we do?" demanded Burke, instantly taking in the +dangerous situation that the Baron's sudden change of plans had +opened up. + +"Call O'Connor," I suggested, thinking of the police bureau of +missing persons, and reaching for the telephone. + +"No, no!" almost shouted Craig, seizing my arm. "The police will +inevitably spoil it all. No, we must play a lone hand in this if +we are to work it out. How was Fortescue discovered, Burke?" + +"Sitting in a chair in his laboratory. He must have been there all +night. There wasn't a mark on him, not a sign of violence, yet his +face was terribly drawn as though he were gasping for breath or +his heart had suddenly failed him. So far, I believe, the coroner +has no clue and isn't advertising the case." + +"Take me there, then," decided Craig quickly. "Walter, I must +trust Miss Lowe to you on the journey. We must all go. That must +be our starting point, if we are to run this thing down." + +I caught his significant look to me and interpreted it to mean +that he wanted me to watch Miss Lowe especially. I gathered that +taking her was in the nature of a third degree and as a result he +expected to derive some information from her. Her face was pale +and drawn as we four piled into a taxicab for a quick run downtown +to the laboratory of Fortescue from which Burke had come directly +to us with his story. + +"What do you know of these anarchists?" asked Kennedy of Burke as +we sped along. "Why do you suspect them?" + +It was evident that he was discussing the case so that Paula could +overhear, for a purpose. + +"Why, we received a tip from abroad--I won't say where," replied +Burke guardedly, taking his cue. "They call themselves the +'Group,' I believe, which is a common enough term among +anarchists. It seems they are composed of terrorists of all +nations." + +"The leader?" inquired Kennedy, leading him on. + +"There is one, I believe, a little florid, stout German. I think +he is a paranoiac who believes there has fallen on himself a +divine mission to end all warfare. Quite likely he is one of those +who have fled to America to avoid military service. Perhaps, why +certainly, you must know him--Annenberg, an instructor in +economics now at the University?" + +Craig nodded and raised his eyebrows in mild surprise. We had +indeed heard of Annenberg and some of his radical theories which +had sometimes quite alarmed the conservative faculty. I felt that +this was getting pretty close home to us now. + +"How about Mrs. Annenberg?" Craig asked, recalling the clever +young wife of the middle-aged professor. + +At the mere mention of the name, I felt a sort of start in Miss +Lowe, who was seated next to me in the taxicab. She had quickly +recovered herself, but not before I saw that Kennedy's plan of +breaking down the last barrier of her reserve was working. + +"She is one of them, too," Burke nodded. "I have had my men out +shadowing them and their friends. They tell me that the Annenbergs +hold salons--I suppose you would call them that--attended by +numbers of men and women of high social and intellectual position +who dabble in radicalism and all sorts of things." "Who are the +other leaders?" asked Craig. "Have you any idea?" + +"Some idea," returned Burke. "There seems to be a Frenchman, a +tall, wiry man of forty-five or fifty with a black mustache which +once had a military twist. There are a couple of Englishmen. Then +there are five or six Americans who seem to be active. One, I +believe, is a young woman." + +Kennedy checked him with a covert glance, but did not betray by a +movement of a muscle to Miss Lowe that either Burke or himself +suspected her of being the young woman in question. + +"There are three Russians," continued Burke, "all of whom have +escaped from Siberia. Then there is at least one Austrian, a +Spaniard from the Ferrer school, and Tomasso and Enrico, two +Italians, rather heavily built, swarthy, bearded. They look the +part. Of course there are others. But these in the main, I think, +compose what might be called 'the inner circle' of the 'Group.'" + +It was indeed an alarming, terrifying revelation, as we began to +realize that Miss Lowe had undoubtedly been telling the truth. Not +alone was there this American group, evidently, but all over +Europe the lines of the conspiracy had apparently spread. It was +not a casual gathering of ordinary malcontents. It went deeper +than that. It included many who in their disgust at war secretly +were not unwilling to wink at violence to end the curse. I could +not but reflect on the dangerous ground on which most of them were +treading, shaking the basis of all civilization in order to cut +out one modern excrescence. + +The big fact to us, just at present, was that this group had made +America its headquarters, that plans had been studiously matured +and even reduced to writing, if Paula were to be believed. +Everything had been carefully staged for a great simultaneous blow +or series of blows that would rouse the whole world. + +As I watched I could not escape observing that Miss Lowe followed +Burke furtively now, as though he had some uncanny power. + +Fortescue's laboratory was in an old building on a side street +several blocks from the main thoroughfares of Manhattan. He had +evidently chosen it, partly because of its very inaccessibility in +order to secure the quiet necessary for his work. + +"If he had any visitors last night," commented Kennedy when our +cab at last pulled up before the place, "they might have come and +gone unnoticed." + +We entered. Nothing had been disturbed in the laboratory by the +coroner and Kennedy was able to gain a complete idea of the case +rapidly, almost as well as if we had been called in immediately. + +Fortescue's body, it seemed, had been discovered sprawled out in a +big armchair, as Burke had said, by one of his assistants only a +few hours before when he had come to the laboratory in the morning +to open it. Evidently he had been there undisturbed all night, +keeping a gruesome vigil over his looted treasure house. + +As we gleaned the meager facts, it became more evident that +whoever had perpetrated the crime must have had the diabolical +cunning to do it in some ordinary way that aroused no suspicion on +the part of the victim, for there was no sign of any violence +anywhere. + +As we entered the laboratory, I noted an involuntary shudder on +the part of Paula Lowe, but, as far as I knew, it was no more than +might have been felt by anyone under the circumstances. + +Fortescue's body had been removed from the chair in which it had +been found and lay on a couch at the other end of the room, +covered merely by a sheet. Otherwise, everything, even the +armchair, was undisturbed. + +Kennedy pulled back a corner of the sheet, disclosing the face, +contorted and of a peculiar, purplish hue from the congested blood +vessels. He bent over and I did so, too. There was an unmistakable +odor of tobacco on him. A moment Kennedy studied the face before +us, then slowly replaced the sheet. + +Miss Lowe had paused just inside the door and seemed resolutely +bound not to look at anything. Kennedy meanwhile had begun a most +minute search of the table and floor of the laboratory near the +spot where the armchair had been sitting. + +In my effort to glean what I could from her actions and +expressions I did not notice that Craig had dropped to his knees +and was peering into the shadow under the laboratory table. When +at last he rose and straightened himself up, however, I saw that +he was holding in the palm of his hand a half-smoked, gold-tipped +cigarette, which had evidently fallen on the floor beneath the +table where it had burned itself out, leaving a blackened mark on +the wood. + +An instant afterward he picked out from the pile of articles found +in Fortescue's pockets and lying on another table a silver +cigarette case. He snapped it open. Fortescue's cigarettes, of +which there were perhaps a half dozen in the case, were cork- +tipped. + +Some one had evidently visited the inventor the night before, had +apparently offered him a cigarette, for there were any number of +the cork-tipped stubs lying about. Who was it? I caught Paula +looking with fascinated gaze at the gold-tipped stub, as Kennedy +carefully folded it up in a piece of paper and deposited it in his +pocket. Did she know something about the case, I wondered? + +Without a word, Kennedy seemed to take in the scant furniture of +the laboratory at a glance and a quick step or two brought him +before a steel filing cabinet. One drawer, which had not been +closed as tightly as the rest, projected a bit. On its face was a +little typewritten card bearing the inscription: "E-M GUN." + +He pulled the drawer open and glanced over the data in it. + +"Just what is an electro-magnetic gun?" I asked, interpreting the +initials on the drawer. + +"Well," he explained as he turned over the notes and sketches, +"the primary principle involved in the construction of such a gun +consists in impelling the projectile by the magnetic action of a +solenoid, the sectional coils or helices of which are supplied +with current through devices actuated by the projectile itself. In +other words, the sections of helices of the solenoid produce an +accelerated motion of the projectile by acting successively on it, +after a principle involved in the construction of electro-magnetic +rock drills and dispatch tubes. + +"All projectiles used in this gun of Fortescue's evidently must +have magnetic properties and projectiles of iron or containing +large portions of iron are necessary. You see, many coils are +wound around the barrel of the gun. As the projectile starts it +does so under the attraction of those coils ahead which the +current makes temporary magnets. It automatically cuts off the +current from those coils that it passes, allowing those further on +only to attract it, and preventing those behind from pulling it +back." + +He paused to study the scraps of plans. "Fortescue had evidently +also worked out a way of changing the poles of the coils as the +projectile passed, causing them then to repel the projectile, +which must have added to its velocity. He seems to have overcome +the practical difficulty that in order to obtain service +velocities with service projectiles an enormous number of windings +and a tremendously long barrel are necessary as well as an +abnormally heavy current beyond the safe carrying capacity of the +solenoid which would raise the temperature to a point that would +destroy the coils." + +He continued turning over the prints and notes in the drawer. When +he finished, he looked up at us with an expression that indicated +that he had merely satisfied himself of something he had already +suspected. + +"You were right, Burke," he said. "The final plans are gone." + +Burke, who, in the meantime, had been telephoning about the city +in a vain effort to locate Baron Kreiger, both at such banking +offices in Wall Street as he might be likely to visit and at some +of the hotels most frequented by foreigners, merely nodded. He was +evidently at a loss completely how to proceed. + +In fact, there seemed to be innumerable problems--to warn Baron +Kreiger, to get the list of the assassinations, to guard Miss Lowe +against falling into the hands of her anarchist friends again, to +find the murderer of Fortescue, to prevent the use of the electro- +magnetic gun, and, if possible, to seize the anarchists before +they had a chance to carry further their plans. + +"There is nothing more that we can do here," remarked Craig +briskly, betraying no sign of hesitation. "I think the best thing +we can do is to go to my own laboratory. There at least there is +something I must investigate sooner or later." + +No one offering either a suggestion or an objection, we four again +entered our cab. It was quite noticeable now that the visit had +shaken Paula Lowe, but Kennedy still studiously refrained from +questioning her, trusting that what she had seen and heard, +especially Burke's report as to Baron Kreiger, would have its +effect. + +Like everyone visiting Craig's laboratory for the first time, Miss +Lowe seemed to feel the spell of the innumerable strange and +uncanny instruments which he had gathered about him in his +scientific warfare against crime. I could see that she was +becoming more and more nervous, perhaps fearing even that in some +incomprehensible way he might read her own thoughts. Yet one thing +I did not detect. She showed no disposition to turn back on the +course on which she had entered by coming to us in the first +place. + +Kennedy was quickly and deftly testing the stub of the little +thin, gold-tipped cigarette. + +"Excessive smoking," he remarked casually, "causes neuroses of the +heart and tobacco has a specific affinity for the coronary +arteries as well as a tremendous effect on the vagus nerve. But I +don't think this was any ordinary smoke." + +He had finished his tests and a quiet smile of satisfaction +flitted momentarily over his face. We had been watching him +anxiously, wondering what he had found. + +As he looked up he remarked to us, with his eyes fixed on Miss +Lowe, "That was a ladies' cigarette. Did you notice the size? +There has been a woman in this case--presumably." + +The girl, suddenly transformed by the rapid-fire succession of +discoveries, stood before us like a specter. + +"The 'Group,' as anarchists call it," pursued Craig, "is the +loosest sort of organization conceivable, I believe, with no set +membership, no officers, no laws--just a place of meeting with no +fixity, where the comrades get together. Could you get us into the +inner circle, Miss Lowe?" + +Her only answer was a little suppressed scream. Kennedy had asked +the question merely for its effect, for it was only too evident +that there was no time, even if she could have managed it, for us +to play the "stool pigeon." + +Kennedy, who had been clearing up the materials he had used in the +analysis of the cigarette, wheeled about suddenly. "Where is the +headquarters of the inner circle?" he shot out. + +Miss Lowe hesitated. That had evidently been one of the things she +had determined not to divulge. + +"Tell me," insisted Kennedy. "You must!" + +If it had been Burke's bulldozing she would never have yielded. +But as she looked into Kennedy's eyes she read there that he had +long since fathomed the secret of her wildly beating heart, that +if she would accomplish the purpose of saving the Baron she must +stop at nothing. + +"At--Maplehurst," she answered in a low tone, dropping her eyes +from his penetrating gaze, "Professor Annenberg's home--out on +Long Island." + +"We must act swiftly if we are to succeed," considered Kennedy, +his tone betraying rather sympathy with than triumph over the +wretched girl who had at last cast everything in the balance to +outweigh the terrible situation into which she had been drawn. "To +send Miss Lowe for that fatal list of assassinations is to send +her either back into the power of this murderous group and let +them know that she has told us, or perhaps to involve her again in +the completion of their plans." + +She sank back into a chair in complete nervous and physical +collapse, covering her face with her hands at the realization that +in her new-found passion to save the Baron she had bared her +sensitive soul for the dissection of three men whom she had never +seen before. + +"We must have that list," pursued Kennedy decisively. "We must +visit Annenberg's headquarters." + +"And I?" she asked, trembling now with genuine fear at the thought +that he might ask her to accompany us as he had on our visit to +Fortescue's laboratory that morning. + +"Miss Lowe," said Kennedy, bending over her, "you have gone too +far now ever to turn back. You are not equal to the trip. Would +you like to remain here? No one will suspect. Here at least you +will be safe until we return." + +Her answer was a mute expression of thanks and confidence. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE MURDER SYNDICATE + + +Quickly now Craig completed his arrangements for the visit to the +headquarters of the real anarchist leader. Burke telephoned for a +high-powered car, while Miss Lowe told frankly of the habits of +Annenberg and the chances of finding his place unguarded, which +were good in the daytime. Kennedy's only equipment for the +excursion consisted in a small package which he took from a +cabinet at the end of the room, and, with a parting reassurance to +Paula Lowe, we were soon speeding over the bridge to the borough +across the river. + +We realized that it might prove a desperate undertaking, but the +crisis was such that it called for any risk. + +Our quest took us to a rather dilapidated old house on the +outskirts of the little Long Island town. The house stood alone, +not far from the tracks of a trolley that ran at infrequent +intervals. Even a hasty reconnoitering showed that to stop our +motor at even a reasonable distance from it was in itself to +arouse suspicion. + +Although the house seemed deserted, Craig took no chances, but +directed the car to turn at the next crossroad and then run back +along a road back of and parallel to that on which Annenberg's was +situated. It was perhaps a quarter of a mile away, across an open +field, that we stopped and ran the car up along the side of the +road in some bushes. Annenberg's was plainly visible and it was +not at all likely that anyone there would suspect trouble from +that quarter. + +A hasty conference with Burke followed, in which Kennedy unwrapped +his small package, leaving part of its contents with him, and +adding careful instructions. + +Then Kennedy and I retraced our steps down the road, across by the +crossroad, and at last back to the mysterious house. + +To all appearance there had been no need of such excessive +caution. Not a sound or motion greeted us as we entered the gate +and made our way around to the rear of the house. The very +isolation of the house was now our protection, for we had no +inquisitive neighbors to watch us for the instant when Kennedy, +with the dexterity of a yeggman, inserted his knife between the +sashes of the kitchen window and turned the catch which admitted +us. + +We made our way on cautious tiptoe through a dining room to a +living room, and, finding nothing, proceeded upstairs. There was +not a soul, apparently, in the house, nor in fact anything to +indicate that it was different from most small suburban homes, +until at last we mounted to the attic. + +It was finished off in one large room across the back of the house +and two in front. As we opened the door to the larger room, we +could only gaze about in surprise. This was the rendezvous, the +arsenal, literary, explosive and toxicological of the "Group." +Ranged on a table were all the materials for bomb-making, while in +a cabinet I fancied there were poisons enough to decimate a city. + +On the walls were pictures, mostly newspaper prints, of the +assassins of McKinley, of King Humbert, of the King of Greece, of +King Carlos and others, interspersed with portraits of anarchist +and anti-militarist leaders of all lands. + +Kennedy sniffed. Over all I, too, could catch the faint odor of +stale tobacco. No time was to be lost, however, and while Craig +set to work rapidly going through the contents of a desk in the +corner, I glanced over the contents of a drawer of a heavy mission +table. + +"Here's some of Annenberg's literature," I remarked, coming across +a small pile of manuscript, entitled "The Human Slaughter House." + +"Read it," panted Kennedy, seeing that I had about completed my +part of the job. "It may give a clue." + +Hastily I scanned the mad, frantic indictment of war, while Craig +continued in his search: + +"I see wild beasts all around me, distorted unnaturally, in a life +and death struggle, with bloodshot eyes, with foaming, gnashing +mouths. They attack and kill one another and try to mangle each +other. I leap to my feet. I race out into the night and tread on +quaking flesh, step on hard heads, and stumble over weapons and +helmets. Something is clutching at my feet like hands, so that I +race away like a hunted deer with the hounds at his heels--and +ever over more bodies--breathless... out of one field into +another. Horror is crooning over my head. Horror is crooning +beneath my feet. And nothing but dying, mangled flesh! + +"Of a sudden I see nothing but blood before me. The heavens have +opened and the red blood pours in through the windows. Blood wells +up on an altar. The walls run blood from the ceiling to the floor +and... a giant of blood stands before me. His beard and his hair +drip blood. He seats himself on the altar and laughs from thick +lips. The black executioner raises his sword and whirls it above +my head. Another moment and my head will roll down on the floor. +Another moment and the red jet will spurt from my neck. + +"Murderers! Murderers! None other than murderers!" + +I paused in the reading. "There's nothing here," I remarked, +glancing over the curious document for a clue, but finding none. + +"Well," remarked Craig contemplatively, "one can at least easily +understand how sensitive and imaginative people who have fallen +under the influence of one who writes in that way can feel +justified in killing those responsible for bringing such horrors +on the human race. Hello--what's this?" + +He had discovered a false back of one of the drawers in the desk +and had jimmied it open. On the top of innumerable papers lay a +large linen envelope. On its face it bore in typewriting, just +like the card on the drawer at Fortescue's, "E-M GUN." + +"It is the original envelope that contained the final plans of the +electro-magnetic gun," he explained, opening it. + +The envelope was empty. We looked at each other a moment in +silence. What had been done with the plans? + +Suddenly a bell rang, startling me beyond measure. It was, +however, only the telephone, of which an extension reached up into +the attic-arsenal. Some one, who did not know that we were there, +was evidently calling up. + +Kennedy quickly unhooked the receiver with a hasty motion to me to +be silent. + +"Hello," I heard him answer. "Yes, this is it." + +He had disguised his voice. I waited anxiously and watched his +face to gather what response he received. + +"The deuce!" he exclaimed, with his hand over the transmitter so +that his voice would not be heard at the other end of the line. + +"What's the matter?" I asked eagerly. + +"It was Mrs. Annenberg--I am sure. But she was too keen for me. +She caught on. There must be some password or form of expression +that they use, which we don't know, for she hung up the receiver +almost as soon as she heard me." + +Kennedy waited a minute or so. Then he whistled into the +transmitter. It was done apparently to see whether there was +anyone listening. But there was no answer. + +"Operator, operator!" he called insistently, moving the hook up +and down. "Yes, operator. Can you tell me what number that was +which just called?" + +He waited impatiently. + +"Bleecker--7l80," he repeated after the girl. "Thank you. +Information, please." + +Again we waited, as Craig tried to trace the call up. + +"What is the street address of Bleecker, 7180?" he asked. "Five +hundred and one East Fifth--a tenement. Thank you." + +"A tenement?" I repeated blankly. + +"Yes," he cried, now for the first time excited. "Don't you begin +to see the scheme? I'll wager that Baron Kreiger has been lured to +New York to purchase the electro-magnetic gun which they have +stolen from Fortescue and the British. That is the bait that is +held out to him by the woman. Call up Miss Lowe at the laboratory +and see if she knows the place." + +I gave central the number, while he fell to at the little secret +drawer of the desk again. The grinding of the wheels of a passing +trolley interfered somewhat with giving the number and I had to +wait a moment. + +"Ah--Walter--here's the list!" almost shouted Kennedy, as he broke +open a black-japanned dispatch box in the desk. + +I bent over it, as far as the slack of the telephone wire of the +receiver at my ear would permit. Annenberg had worked with amazing +care and neatness on the list, even going so far as to draw at the +top, in black, a death's head. The rest of it was elaborately +prepared in flaming red ink. + +Craig gasped to observe the list of world-famous men marked for +destruction in London, Paris, Berlin, Rome, Vienna, St. +Petersburg, and even in New York and Washington. + +"What is the date set?" I asked, still with my ear glued to the +receiver. + +"To-night and to-morrow," he replied, stuffing the fateful sheet +into his pocket. + +Rummaging about in the drawer of the table, I had come to a +package of gold-tipped cigarettes which had interested me and I +had left them out. Kennedy was now looking at them curiously. + +"What is to be the method, do you suppose?" I asked. + +"By a poison that is among the most powerful, approaching even +cyanogen," he replied confidently, tapping the cigarettes. "Do you +smell the odor in this room? What is it like?" + +"Stale tobacco," I replied. + +"Exactly--nicotine. Two or three drops on the mouth-end of a cigar +or cigarette. The intended victim thinks it is only natural. But +it is the purest form of the deadly alkaloid--fatal in a few +minutes, too." + +He examined the thin little cigarettes more carefully. "Nicotine," +he went on, "was about the first alkaloid that was recovered from +the body by chemical analysis in a homicide case. That is the +penetrating, persistent odor you smelled at Fortescue's and also +here. It's a very good poison--if you are not particular about +being discovered. A pound of ordinary smoking tobacco contains +from a half to an ounce of it. It is almost entirely consumed by +combustion; otherwise a pipeful would be fatal. Of course they may +have thought that investigators would believe that their victims +were inveterate smokers. But even the worst tobacco fiend wouldn't +show traces of the weed to such an extent." + +Miss Lowe answered at last and Kennedy took the telephone. + +"What is at five hundred and one East Fifth?" he asked. + +"A headquarters of the Group in the city," she answered. "Why?" + +"Well, I believe that the plans of that gun are there and that the +Baron--" + +"You damned spies!" came a voice from behind us. + +Kennedy dropped the receiver, turning quickly, his automatic +gleaming in his hand. + +There was just a glimpse of a man with glittering bright blue eyes +that had an almost fiendish, baleful glare. An instant later the +door which had so unexpectedly opened banged shut, we heard a key +turn in the lock--and the man dropped to the floor before even +Kennedy's automatic could test its ability to penetrate wood on a +chance at hitting something the other side of it. + +We were prisoners! + +My mind worked automatically. At this very moment, perhaps, Baron +Kreiger might be negotiating for the electro-magnetic gun. We had +found out where he was, in all probability, but we were powerless +to help him. I thought of Miss Lowe, and picked up the receiver +which Kennedy had dropped. + +She did not answer. The wire had been cut. We were isolated! + +Kennedy had jumped to the window. I followed to restrain him, +fearing that he had some mad scheme for climbing out. Instead, +quickly he placed a peculiar arrangement, from the little package +he had brought, holding it to his eye as if sighting it, his right +hand grasping a handle as one holds a stereoscope. A moment later, +as I examined it more closely, I saw that instead of looking at +anything he had before him a small parabolic mirror turned away +from him. + +His finger pressed alternately on a button on the handle and I +could see that there flashed in the little mirror a minute +incandescent lamp which seemed to have a special filament +arrangement. + +The glaring sun was streaming in at the window and I wondered what +could possibly be accomplished by the little light in competition +with the sun itself. + +"Signaling by electric light in the daytime may sound to you +ridiculous," explained Craig, still industriously flashing the +light, "but this arrangement with Professor Donath's signal mirror +makes it possible, all right. + +"I hadn't expected this, but I thought I might want to communicate +with Burke quickly. You see, I sight the lamp and then press the +button which causes the light in the mirror to flash. It seems a +paradox that a light like this can be seen from a distance of even +five miles and yet be invisible to one for whom it was not +intended, but it is so. I use the ordinary Morse code--two seconds +for a dot, six for a dash with a four-second interval." + +"What message did you send?" I asked. + +"I told him that Baron Kreiger was at five hundred and one East +Fifth, probably; to get the secret service office in New York by +wire and have them raid the place, then to come and rescue us. +That was Annenberg. He must have come up by that trolley we heard +passing just before." + +The minutes seemed ages as we waited for Burke to start the +machinery of the raid and then come for us. + +"No--you can't have a cigarette--and if I had a pair of bracelets +with me, I'd search you myself," we heard a welcome voice growl +outside the door a few minutes later. "Look in that other pocket, +Tom." + +The lock grated back and there stood Burke holding in a grip of +steel the undersized Annenberg, while the chauffeur who had driven +our car swung open the door. + +"I'd have been up sooner," apologized Burke, giving the anarchist +an extra twist just to let him know that he was at last in the +hands of the law, "only I figured that this fellow couldn't have +got far away in this God-forsaken Ducktown and I might as well +pick him up while I had a chance. That's a great little instrument +of yours, Kennedy. I got you, fine." + +Annenberg, seeing we were now four to one, concluded that +discretion was the better part of valor and ceased to struggle, +though now and then I could see he glanced at Kennedy out of the +corner of his eye. To every question he maintained a stolid +silence. + +A few minutes later, with the arch anarchist safely pinioned +between us, we were speeding back toward New York, laying plans +for Burke to dispatch warnings abroad to those whose names +appeared on the fatal list, and at the same time to round up as +many of the conspirators as possible in America. + +As for Kennedy, his main interest now lay in Baron Kreiger and +Paula. While she had been driven frantic by the outcome of the +terrible pact into which she had been drawn, some one, +undoubtedly, had been trying to sell Baron Kreiger the gun that +had been stolen from the American inventor. Once they had his +money and he had received the plans of the gun, a fatal cigarette +would be smoked. Could we prevent it? + +On we tore back to the city, across the bridge and down through +the canyons of East Side streets. + +At last we pulled up before the tenement at five hundred and one. +As we did so, one of Burke's men jumped out of the doorway. + +"Are we in time?" shouted Burke. + +"It's an awful mix-up," returned the man. "I can't make anything +out of it, so I ordered 'em all held here till you came." + +We pushed past without a word of criticism of his wonderful +acumen. + +On the top floor we came upon a young man, bending over the form +of a girl who had fainted. On the floor of the middle of the room +was a mass of charred papers which had evidently burned a hole in +the carpet before they had been stamped out. Near by was an +unlighted cigarette, crushed flat on the floor. + +"How is she?" asked Kennedy anxiously of the young man, as he +dropped down on the other side of the girl. + +It was Paula. She had fainted, but was just now coming out of the +borderland of unconsciousness. + +"Was I in time? Had he smoked it?" she moaned weakly, as there +swam before her eyes, evidently, a hazy vision of our faces. + +Kennedy turned to the young man. + +"Baron Kreiger, I presume?" he inquired. + +The young man nodded. + +"Burke of the Secret Service," introduced Craig, indicating our +friend. "My name is Kennedy. Tell what happened." + +"I had just concluded a transaction," returned Kreiger in good but +carefully guarded English. "Suddenly the door burst open. She +seized these papers and dashed a cigarette out of my hands. The +next instant she had touched a match to them and had fallen in a +faint almost in the blaze. Strangest experience I ever had in my +life. Then all these other fellows came bursting in--said they +were Secret Service men, too." + +Kennedy had no time to reply, for a cry from Annenberg directed +our attention to the next room where on a couch lay a figure all +huddled up. + +As we looked we saw it was a woman, her head sweating profusely, +and her hands cold and clammy. There was a strange twitching of +the muscles of the face, the pupils of her eyes were widely +dilated, her pulse weak and irregular. Evidently her circulation +had failed so that it responded only feebly to stimulants, for her +respiration was slow and labored, with loud inspiratory gasps. + +Annenberg had burst with superhuman strength from Burke's grasp +and was kneeling by the side of his wife's deathbed. + +"It--was all Paula's fault--" gasped the woman. "I--knew I had +better--carry it through--like the Fortescue visit--alone." + +I felt a sense of reassurance at the words. At least my suspicions +had been unfounded. Paula was innocent of the murder of Fortescue. + +"Severe, acute nicotine poisoning," remarked Kennedy, as he +rejoined us a moment later. "There is nothing we can do--now." + +Paula moved at the words, as though they had awakened a new energy +in her. With a supreme effort she raised herself. + +"Then I--I failed?" she cried, catching sight of Kennedy. + +"No, Miss Lowe," he answered gently. "You won. The plans of the +terrible gun are destroyed. The Baron is safe. Mrs. Annenberg has +herself smoked one of the fatal cigarettes intended for him." + +Kreiger looked at us, uncomprehending. Kennedy picked up the +crushed, unlighted cigarette and laid it in the palm of his hand +beside another, half smoked, which he had found beside Mrs. +Annenberg. + +"They are deadly," he said simply to Kreiger. "A few drops of pure +nicotine hidden by that pretty gilt tip would have accomplished +all that the bitterest anarchist could desire." + +All at once Kreiger seemed to realize what he had escaped so +narrowly. He turned toward Paula. The revulsion of her feelings at +seeing him safe was too much for her shattered nerves. + +With a faint little cry, she tottered. + +Before any of us could reach her, he had caught her in his arms +and imprinted a warm kiss on the insensible lips. + +"Some water--quick!" he cried, still holding her close. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE AIR PIRATE + + +Rounding up the "Group" took several days, and it proved to be a +great story for the Star. I was pretty fagged when it was all +over, but there was a great deal of satisfaction in knowing that +we had frustrated one of the most daring anarchist plots of recent +years. + +"Can you arrange to spend the week-end with me at Stuyvesant +Verplanck's at Bluffwood?" asked Kennedy over the telephone, the +afternoon that I had completed my work on the newspaper of undoing +what Annenberg and the rest had attempted. + +"How long since society took you up?" I asked airily, adding, "Is +it a large house party you are getting up?" + +"You have heard of the so-called 'phantom bandit' of Bluffwood, +haven't you?" he returned rather brusquely, as though there was no +time now for bantering. + +I confess that in the excitement of the anarchists I had forgotten +it, but now I recalled that for several days I had been reading +little paragraphs about robberies on the big estates on the Long +Island shore of the Sound. One of the local correspondents had +called the robber a "phantom bandit," but I had thought it nothing +more than an attempt to make good copy out of a rather ordinary +occurrence. + +"Well," he hurried on, "that's the reason why I have been 'taken +up by society,' as you so elegantly phrase it. From the secret +hiding-places of the boudoirs and safes of fashionable women at +Bluffwood, thousands of dollars' worth of jewels and other +trinkets have mysteriously vanished. Of course you'll come along. +Why, it will be just the story to tone up that alleged page of +society news you hand out in the Sunday Star. There--we're quits +now. Seriously, though, Walter, it really seems to be a very +baffling case, or rather series of cases. The whole colony out +there is terrorized. They don't know who the robber is, or how he +operates, or who will be the next victim, but his skill and +success seem almost uncanny. Mr. Verplanck has put one of his cars +at my disposal and I'm up here at the laboratory gathering some +apparatus that may be useful. I'll pick you up anywhere between +this and the Bridge--how about Columbus Circle in half an hour?" + +"Good," I agreed, deciding quickly from his tone and manner of +assurance that it would be a case I could not afford to miss. + +The Stuyvesant Verplancks, I knew, were among the leaders of the +rather recherche society at Bluffwood, and the pace at which +Bluffwood moved and had its being was such as to guarantee a good +story in one way or another. + +"Why," remarked Kennedy, as we sped out over the picturesque roads +of the north shore of Long Island, "this fellow, or fellows, seems +to have taken the measure of all the wealthy members of the +exclusive organizations out there--the Westport Yacht Club, the +Bluffwood Country Club, the North Shore Hunt, and all of them. +It's a positive scandal, the ease with which he seems to come and +go without detection, striking now here, now there, often at +places that it seems physically impossible to get at, and yet +always with the same diabolical skill and success. One night he +will take some baubles worth thousands, the next pass them by for +something apparently of no value at all, a piece of bric-a-brac, a +bundle of letters, anything." + +"Seems purposeless, insane, doesn't it?" I put in. + +"Not when he always takes something--often more valuable than +money," returned Craig. + +He leaned back in the car and surveyed the glimpses of bay and +countryside as we were whisked by the breaks in the trees. + +"Walter," he remarked meditatively, "have you ever considered the +possibilities of blackmail if the right sort of evidence were +obtained under this new 'white-slavery act'? Scandals that some of +the fast set may be inclined to wink at, that at worst used to end +in Reno, become felonies with federal prison sentences looming up +in the background. Think it over." + +Stuyvesant Verplanck had telephoned rather hurriedly to Craig +earlier in the day, retaining his services, but telling only in +the briefest way of the extent of the depredations, and hinting +that more than jewelry might be at stake. + +It was a pleasant ride, but we finished it in silence. Verplanck +was, as I recalled, a large masterful man, one of those who +demanded and liked large things--such as the estate of several +hundred acres which we at last entered. + +It was on a neck of land with the restless waters of the Sound on +one side and the calmer waters of the bay on the other. Westport +Bay lay in a beautifully wooded, hilly country, and the house +itself was on an elevation, with a huge sweep of terraced lawn +before it down to the water's edge. All around, for miles, were +other large estates, a veritable colony of wealth. + +As we pulled up under the broad stone porte-cochere, Verplanck, +who had been expecting us, led the way into his library, a great +room, literally crowded with curios and objects of art which he +had collected on his travels. It was a superb mental workshop, +overlooking the bay, with a stretch of several miles of sheltered +water. + +"You will recall," began Verplanck, wasting no time over +preliminaries, but plunging directly into the subject, "that the +prominent robberies of late have been at seacoast resorts, +especially on the shores of Long Island Sound, within, say, a +hundred miles of New York. There has been a great deal of talk +about dark and muffled automobiles that have conveyed mysterious +parties swiftly and silently across country. + +"My theory," he went on self-assertively, "is that the attack has +been made always along water routes. Under shadow of darkness, it +is easy to slip into one of the sheltered coves or miniature +fiords with which the north coast of the Island abounds, land a +cut-throat crew primed with exact information of the treasure on +some of these estates. Once the booty is secured, the criminal +could put out again into the Sound without leaving a clue." + +He seemed to be considering his theory. "Perhaps the robberies +last summer at Narragansett, Newport, and a dozen other New +England places were perpetrated by the same cracksman. I believe," +he concluded, lowering his voice, "that there plies to-day on the +wide waters of the Sound a slim, swift motor boat which wears the +air of a pleasure craft, yet is as black a pirate as ever flew the +Jolly Roger. She may at this moment be anchored off some exclusive +yacht club, flying the respectable burgee of the club--who knows?" + +He paused as if his deductions settled the case so far. He would +have resumed in the same vein, if the door had not opened. A lady +in a cobwebby gown entered the room. She was of middle age, but +had retained her youth with a skill that her sisters of less +leisure always envy. Evidently she had not expected to find +anyone, yet nothing seemed to disconcert her. + +"Mrs. Verplanck," her husband introduced, "Professor Kennedy and +his associate, Mr. Jameson--those detectives we have heard about. +We were discussing the robberies." + +"Oh, yes," she said, smiling, "my husband has been thinking of +forming himself into a vigilance committee. The local authorities +are all at sea." + +I thought there was a trace of something veiled in the remark and +fancied, not only then but later, that there was an air of +constraint between the couple. + +"You have not been robbed yourself?" queried Craig tentatively. + +"Indeed we have," exclaimed Verplanck quickly. "The other night I +was awakened by the noise of some one down here in this very +library. I fired a shot, wild, and shouted, but before I could get +down here the intruder had fled through a window, and half rolling +down the terraces. Mrs. Verplanck was awakened by the rumpus and +both of us heard a peculiar whirring noise." + +"Like an automobile muffled down," she put in. + +"No," he asserted vigorously, "more like a powerful motor boat, +one with the exhaust under water." + +"Well," she shrugged, "at any rate, we saw no one." + +"Did the intruder get anything?" + +"That's the lucky part. He had just opened this safe apparently +and begun to ransack it. This is my private safe. Mrs. Verplanck +has another built into her own room upstairs where she keeps her +jewels." + +"It is not a very modern safe, is it?" ventured Kennedy. "The +fellow ripped off the outer casing with what they call a 'can- +opener.'" + +"No. I keep it against fire rather than burglars. But he +overlooked a box of valuable heirlooms, some silver with the +Verplanck arms. I think I must have scared him off just in time. +He seized a package in the safe, but it was only some business +correspondence. I don't relish having lost it, particularly. It +related to a gentlemen's agreement a number of us had in the +recent cotton corner. I suppose the Government would like to have +it. But--here's the point. If it is so easy to get in and get +away, no one in Bluffwood is safe." + +"Why, he robbed the Montgomery Carter place the other night," +remarked Mrs. Verplanck, "and almost got a lot of old Mrs. +Carter's jewels as well as stuff belonging to her son, Montgomery, +Junior. That was the first robbery. Mr. Carter, that is Junior-- +Monty, everyone calls him--and his chauffeur almost captured the +fellow, but he managed to escape in the woods." + +"In the woods?" repeated Craig. + +Mrs. Verplanck nodded. "But they saved the loot he was about to +take." + +"Oh, no one is safe any more," reiterated Verplanck. "Carter seems +to be the only one who has had a real chance at him, and he was +able to get away neatly." + +"But he's not the only one who got off without a loss," she put in +significantly. "The last visit--" Then she paused. + +"Where was the last attempt?" asked Kennedy. + +"At the house of Mrs. Hollingsworth--around the point on this side +of the bay. You can't see it from here." + +"I'd like to go there," remarked Kennedy. + +"Very well. Car or boat?" + +"Boat, I think." + +"Suppose we go in my little runabout, the Streamline II? She's as +fast as any ordinary automobile." + +"Very good. Then we can get an idea of the harbor." + +"I'll telephone first that we are coming," said Verplanck. + +"I think I'll go, too," considered Mrs. Verplanck, ringing for a +heavy wrap. + +"Just as you please," said Verplanck. + +The Streamline was a three-stepped boat which. Verplanck had built +for racing, a beautiful craft, managed much like a racing +automobile. As she started from the dock, the purring drone of her +eight cylinders sent her feathering over the waves like a skipping +stone. She sank back into the water, her bow leaping upward, a +cloud of spray in her wake, like a waterspout. + +Mrs. Hollingsworth was a wealthy divorcee, living rather quietly +with her two children, of whom the courts had awarded her the +care. She was a striking woman, one of those for whom the new +styles of dress seem especially to have been designed. I gathered, +however, that she was not on very good terms with the little +Westport clique in which the Verplancks moved, or at least not +with Mrs. Verplanck. The two women seemed to regard each other +rather coldly, I thought, although Mr. Verplanck, man-like, seemed +to scorn any distinctions and was more than cordial. I wondered +why Mrs. Verplanck had come. + +The Hollingsworth house was a beautiful little place down the bay +from the Yacht Club, but not as far as Verplanck's, or the Carter +estate, which was opposite. + +"Yes," replied Mrs. Hollingsworth when the reason for our visit +had been explained, "the attempt was a failure. I happened to be +awake, rather late, or perhaps you would call it early. I thought +I heard a noise as if some one was trying to break into the +drawing-room through the window. I switched on all the lights. I +have them arranged so for just that purpose of scaring off +intruders. Then, as I looked out of my window on the second floor, +I fancied I could see a dark figure slink into the shadow of the +shrubbery at the side of the house. Then there was a whirr. It +might have been an automobile, although it sounded differently +from that--more like a motor boat. At any rate, there was no trace +of a car that we could discover in the morning. The road had been +oiled, too, and a car would have left marks. And yet some one was +here. There were marks on the drawing-room window just where I +heard the sounds." + +Who could it be? I asked myself as we left. I knew that the great +army of chauffeurs was infested with thieves, thugs and gunmen. +Then, too, there were maids, always useful as scouts for these +corsairs who prey on the rich. Yet so adroitly had everything been +done in these cases that not a clue seemed to have been left +behind by which to trace the thief. + +We returned to Verplanck's in the Streamline in record time, +dined, and then found McNeill, a local detective, waiting to add +his quota of information. McNeill was of the square-toed, double- +chinned, bull-necked variety, just the man to take along if there +was any fighting. He had, however, very little to add to the +solution of the mystery, apparently believing in the chauffeur- +and-maid theory. + +It was too late to do anything more that night, and we sat on the +Verplanck porch, overlooking the beautiful harbor. It was a black, +inky night, with no moon, one of those nights when the myriad +lights on the boats were mere points in the darkness. As we looked +out over the water, considering the case which as yet we had +hardly started on, Kennedy seemed engrossed in the study in black. + +"I thought I saw a moving light for an instant across the bay, +above the boats, and as though it were in the darkness of the +hills on the other side. Is there a road over there, above the +Carter house?" he asked suddenly. + +"There is a road part of the way on the crest of the hill," +replied Mrs. Verplanck. "You can see a car on it, now and then, +through the trees, like a moving light." + +"Over there, I mean," reiterated Kennedy, indicating the light as +it flashed now faintly, then disappeared, to reappear further +along, like a gigantic firefly in the night. + +"N-no," said Verplanck. "I don't think the road runs down as far +as that. It is further up the bay." + +"What is it then?" asked Kennedy, half to himself. "It seems to be +traveling rapidly. Now it must be about opposite the Carter house. +There--it has gone." + +We continued to watch for several minutes, but it did not +reappear. Could it have been a light on the mast of a boat moving +rapidly up the bay and perhaps nearer to us than we suspected? +Nothing further happened, however, and we retired early, expecting +to start with fresh minds on the case in the morning. Several +watchmen whom Verplanck employed both on the shore and along the +driveways were left guarding every possible entrance to the +estate. + +Yet the next morning as we met in the cheery east breakfast room, +Verplanck's gardener came in, hat in hand, with much suppressed +excitement. + +In his hand he held an orange which he had found in the shrubbery +underneath the windows of the house. In it was stuck a long nail +and to the nail was fastened a tag. + +Kennedy read it quickly. + +"If this had been a bomb, you and your detectives would never have +known what struck you. + +"AQUAERO." + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE ULTRA-VIOLET RAY + + +"Good Gad, man!" exclaimed Verplanck, who had read it over Craig's +shoulder. "What do you make of THAT?" + +Kennedy merely shook his head. Mrs. Verplanck was the calmest of +all. + +"The light," I cried. "You remember the light? Could it have been +a signal to some one on this side of the bay, a signal light in +the woods?" + +"Possibly," commented Kennedy absently, adding, "Robbery with this +fellow seems to be an art as carefully strategized as a promoter's +plan or a merchant's trade campaign. I think I'll run over this +morning and see if there is any trace of anything on the Carter +estate." + +Just then the telephone rang insistently. It was McNeill, much +excited, though he had not heard of the orange incident. Verplanck +answered the call. + +"Have you heard the news?" asked McNeill. "They report this +morning that that fellow must have turned up last night at Belle +Aire." + +"Belle Aire? Why, man, that's fifty miles away and on the other +side of the island. He was here last night," and Verplanck related +briefly the find of the morning. "No boat could get around the +island in that time and as for a car--those roads are almost +impossible at night." + +"Can't help it," returned McNeill doggedly. "The Halstead estate +out at Belle Aire was robbed last night. It's spooky all right." + +"Tell McNeill I want to see him--will meet him in the village +directly," cut in Craig before Verplanck had finished. + +We bolted a hasty breakfast and in one of Verplanck's cars hurried +to meet McNeill. + +"What do you intend doing?" he asked helplessly, as Kennedy +finished his recital of the queer doings of the night before. + +"I'm going out now to look around the Carter place. Can you come +along?" + +"Surely," agreed McNeill, climbing into the car. "You know him?" + +"No." + +"Then I'll introduce you. Queer chap, Carter. He's a lawyer, +although I don't think he has much practice, except managing his +mother's estate." + +McNeill settled back in the luxurious car with an exclamation of +satisfaction. + +"What do you think of Verplanck?" he asked. + +"He seems to me to be a very public-spirited man," answered +Kennedy discreetly. + +That, however, was not what McNeill meant and he ignored it. And +so for the next ten minutes we were entertained with a little +retail scandal of Westport and Bluffwood, including a tale that +seemed to have gained currency that Verplanck and Mrs. +Hollingsworth were too friendly to please Mrs. Verplanck. I set +the whole thing down to the hostility and jealousy of the towns +people who misinterpret everything possible in the smart set, +although I could not help recalling how quickly she had spoken +when we had visited the Hollingsworth house in the Streamline the +day before. + +Montgomery Carter happened to be at home and, at least openly, +interposed no objection to our going about the grounds. + +"You see," explained Kennedy, watching the effect of his words as +if to note whether Carter himself had noticed anything unusual the +night before, "we saw a light moving over here last night. To tell +the truth, I half expected you would have a story to add to ours, +of a second visit." + +Carter smiled. "No objection at all. I'm simply nonplussed at the +nerve of this fellow, coming back again. I guess you've heard what +a narrow squeak he had with me. You're welcome to go anywhere, +just so long as you don't disturb my study down there in the +boathouse. I use that because it overlooks the bay--just the place +to study over knotty legal problems." + +Back of, or in front of the Carter house, according as you fancied +it faced the bay or not, was the boathouse, built by Carter's +father, who had been a great yachtsman in his day and commodore of +the club. His son had not gone in much for water sports and had +converted the corner underneath a sort of observation tower into a +sort of country law office. + +"There has always seemed to me to be something strange about that +boathouse since the old man died," remarked McNeill in a half +whisper as we left Carter. "He always keeps it locked and never +lets anyone go in there, although they say he has it fitted +beautifully with hundreds of volumes of law books, too." + +Kennedy had been climbing the hill back of the house and now +paused to look about. Below was the Carter garage. + +"By the way," exclaimed McNeill, as if he had at last hit on a +great discovery, "Carter has a new chauffeur, a fellow named +Wickham. I just saw him driving down to the village. He's a chap +that it might pay us to watch--a newcomer, smart as a steel trap, +they say, but not much of a talker." "Suppose you take that job-- +watch him," encouraged Kennedy. "We can't know too much about +strangers here, McNeill." + +"That's right," agreed the detective. "I'll follow him back to the +village and get a line on him." + +"Don't be easily discouraged," added Kennedy, as McNeill started +down the hill to the garage. "If he is a fox he'll try to throw +you off the trail. Hang on." + +"What was that for?" I asked as the detective disappeared. "Did +you want to get rid of him?" + +"Partly," replied Craig, descending slowly, after a long survey of +the surrounding country. + +We had reached the garage, deserted now except for our own car. + +"I'd like to investigate that tower," remarked Kennedy with a keen +look at me, "if it could be done without seeming to violate Mr. +Carter's hospitality." + +"Well," I observed, my eye catching a ladder beside the garage, +"there's a ladder. We can do no more than try." + +He walked over to the automobile, took a little package out, +slipped it into his pocket, and a few minutes later we had set the +ladder up against the side of the boathouse farthest away from the +house. It was the work of only a moment for Kennedy to scale it +and prowl across the roof to the tower, while I stood guard at the +foot. + +"No one has been up there recently," he panted breathlessly as he +rejoined me. "There isn't a sign." + +We took the ladder quietly back to the garage, then Kennedy led +the way down the shore to a sort of little summerhouse cut off +from the boathouse and garage by the trees, though over the top of +a hedge one could still see the boathouse tower. + +We sat down, and Craig filled his lungs with the good salt air, +sweeping his eye about the blue and green panorama as though this +were a holiday and not a mystery case. + +"Walter," he said at length, "I wish you'd take the car and go +around to Verplanck's. I don't think you can see the tower through +the trees, but I should like to be sure." + +I found that it could not be seen, though I tried all over the +place and got myself disliked by the gardener and suspected by a +watchman with a dog. + +It could not have been from the tower of the boathouse that we had +seen the light, and I hurried back to Craig to tell him so. But +when I returned, I found that he was impatiently pacing the little +rustic summerhouse, no longer interested in what he had sent me to +find out. + +"What has happened?" I asked eagerly. + +"Just come out here and I'll show you something," he replied, +leaving the summerhouse and approaching the boathouse from the +other side of the hedge, on the beach, so that the house itself +cut us off from observation from Carter's. + +"I fixed a lens on the top of that tower when I was up there," he +explained, pointing up at it. "It must be about fifty feet high. +From there, you see, it throws a reflection down to this mirror. I +did it because through a skylight in the tower I could read +whatever was written by anyone sitting at Carter's desk in the +corner under it." + +"Read?" I repeated, mystified. + +"Yes, by invisible light," he continued. "This invisible light +business, you know, is pretty well understood by this time. I was +only repeating what was suggested once by Professor Wood of Johns +Hopkins. Practically all sources of light, you understand, give +out more or less ultraviolet light, which plays no part in vision +whatever. The human eye is sensitive to but few of the light rays +that reach it, and if our eyes were constituted just the least bit +differently we should have an entirely different set of images. + +"But by the use of various devices we can, as it were, translate +these ultraviolet rays into terms of what the human eye can see. +In order to do it, all the visible light rays which show us the +thing as we see it--the tree green, the sky blue--must be cut off. +So in taking an ultraviolet photograph a screen must be used which +will be opaque to these visible rays and yet will let the +ultraviolet rays through to form the image. That gave Professor +Wood a lot of trouble. Glass won't do, for glass cuts off the +ultraviolet rays entirely. Quartz is a very good medium, but it +does not cut off all the visible light. In fact there is only one +thing that will do the work, and that is metallic silver." + +I could not fathom what he was driving at, but the fascination of +Kennedy himself was quite sufficient. + +"Silver," he went on, "is all right if the objects can be +illuminated by an electric spark or some other source rich in the +rays. But it isn't entirely satisfactory when sunlight is +concerned, for various reasons that I need not bore you with. +Professor Wood has worked out a process of depositing nickel on +glass. That's it up there," he concluded, wheeling a lower +reflector about until it caught the image of the afternoon sun +thrown from the lens on the top of the tower. + +"You see," he resumed, "that upper lens is concave so that it +enlarges tremendously. I can do some wonderful tricks with that." + +I had been lighting a cigarette and held a box of safety wind +matches in my hand. + +"Give me that matchbox," he asked. + +He placed it at the foot of the tower. Then he went off, I should +say, without exaggeration, a hundred feet. + +The lettering on the matchbox could be seen in the silvered +mirror, enlarged to such a point that the letters were plainly +visible! + +"Think of the possibilities in that," he added excitedly. "I saw +them at once. You can read what some one is writing at a desk a +hundred, perhaps two hundred feet away." + +"Yes," I cried, more interested in the practical aspects of it +than in the mechanics and optics. "What have you found?" + +"Some one came into the boathouse while you were away," he said. +"He had a note. It read, 'Those new detectives are watching +everything. We must have the evidence. You must get those letters +to-night, without fail.'" + +"Letters--evidence," I repeated. "Who wrote it? Who received it?" + +"I couldn't see over the hedge who had entered the boathouse, and +by the time I got around here he was gone." + +"Was it Wickham--or intended for Wickham?" I asked. + +Kennedy shrugged his shoulders. + +"We'll gain nothing by staying here," he said. "There is just one +possibility in the case, and I can guard against that only by +returning to Verplanck's and getting some of that stuff I brought +up here with me. Let us go." + +Late in the afternoon though it was, after our return, Kennedy +insisted on hurrying from Verplanck's to the Yacht Club up the +bay. It was a large building, extending out into the water on made +land, from which ran a long, substantial dock. He had stopped long +enough only to ask Verplanck to lend him the services of his best +mechanician, a Frenchman named Armand. + +On the end of the yacht club dock Kennedy and Armand set up a +large affair which looked like a mortar. I watched curiously, +dividing my attention between them and the splendid view of the +harbor which the end of the dock commanded on all sides. + +"What is this?" I asked finally. "Fireworks?" + +"A rocket mortar of light weight," explained Kennedy, then dropped +into French as he explained to Armand the manipulation of the +thing. + +There was a searchlight near by on the dock. + +"You can use that?" queried Kennedy. + +"Oh, yes. Mr. Verplanck, he is vice-commodore of the club. Oh, +yes, I can use that. Why, Monsieur?" + +Kennedy had uncovered a round brass case. It did not seem to +amount to much, as compared to some of the complicated apparatus +he had used. In it was a four-sided prism of glass--I should have +said, cut off the corner of a huge glass cube. + +He handed it to us. + +"Look in it," he said. + +It certainly was about the most curious piece of crystal gazing I +had ever done. Turn the thing any way I pleased and I could see my +face in it, just as in an ordinary mirror. + +"What do you call it?" Armand asked, much interested. + +"A triple mirror," replied Kennedy, and again, half in English and +half in French, neither of which I could follow, he explained the +use of the mirror to the mechanician. + +We were returning up the dock, leaving Armand with instructions to +be at the club at dusk, when we met McNeill, tired and disgusted. + +"What luck?" asked Kennedy. + +"Nothing," he returned. "I had a 'short' shadow and a 'long' +shadow at Wickham's heels all day. You know what I mean. Instead +of one man, two--the second sleuthing in the other's tracks. If he +escaped Number One, Number Two would take it up, and I was ready +to move up into Number Two's place. They kept him in sight about +all the time. Not a fact. But then, of course, we don't know what +he was doing before we took up tailing him. Say," he added, "I +have just got word from an agency with which I correspond in New +York that it is reported that a yeggman named 'Australia Mac,' a +very daring and clever chap, has been attempting to dispose of +some of the goods which we know have been stolen through one of +the worst 'fences' in New York." + +"Is that all?" asked Craig, with the mention of Australia Mac +showing the first real interest yet in anything that McNeill had +done since we met him the night before. + +"All so far. I wired for more details immediately." + +"Do you know anything about this Australia Mac?" + +"Not much. No one does. He's a new man, it seems, to the police +here." + +"Be here at eight o'clock, McNeill," said Craig, as we left the +club for Verplanck's. "If you can find out more about this +yeggman, so much the better." + +"Have you made any progress?" asked Verplanck as we entered the +estate a few minutes later. + +"Yes," returned Craig, telling only enough to whet his interest. +"There's a clue, as I half expected, from New York, too. But we +are so far away that we'll have to stick to my original plan. You +can trust Armand?" + +"Absolutely." + +"Then we shall transfer our activity to the Yacht Club to-night," +was all that Kennedy vouchsafed. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE TRIPLE MIRROR + + +It was the regular Saturday night dance at the club, a brilliant +spectacle, faces that radiated pleasure, gowns that for startling +combinations of color would have shamed a Futurist, music that set +the feet tapping irresistibly--a scene which I shall pass over +because it really has no part in the story. + +The fascination of the ballroom was utterly lost on Craig. "Think +of all the houses only half guarded about here to-night," he +mused, as we joined Armand and McNeill on the end of the dock. I +could not help noting that that was the only idea which the gay, +variegated, sparkling tango throng conveyed to him. + +In front of the club was strung out a long line of cars, and at +the dock several speed boats of national and international +reputation, among them the famous Streamline II, at our instant +beck and call. In it Craig had already placed some rather bulky +pieces of apparatus, as well as a brass case containing a second +triple mirror like that which he had left with Armand. + +With McNeill, I walked back along the pier, leaving Kennedy with +Armand, until we came to the wide porch, where we joined the +wallflowers and the rocking-chair fleet. Mrs. Verplanck, I +observed, was a beautiful dancer. I picked her out in the throng +immediately, dancing with Carter. + +McNeill tugged at my sleeve. Without a word I saw what he meant me +to see. Verplanck and Mrs. Hollingsworth were dancing together. +Just then, across the porch I caught sight of Kennedy at one of +the wide windows. He was trying to attract Verplanck's attention, +and as he did so I worked my way through the throng of chatting +couples leaving the floor until I reached him. Verplanck, +oblivious, finished the dance; then, seeming to recollect that he +had something to attend to, caught sight of us, and ran off during +the intermission from the gay crowd to which he resigned Mrs. +Hollingsworth. + +"What is it?" he asked. + +"There's that light down the bay," whispered Kennedy. + +Instantly Verplanck forgot about the dance. + +"Where?" he asked. + +"In the same place." + +I had not noticed, but Mrs. Verplanck, woman-like, had been able +to watch several things at once. She had seen us and had joined +us. + +"Would you like to run down there in the Streamline?" he asked. +"It will only take a few minutes." + +"Very much." + +"What is it--that light again?" she asked, as she joined us in +walking down the dock. + +"Yes," answered her husband, pausing to look for a moment at the +stuff Kennedy had left with Armand. Mrs. Verplanck leaned over the +Streamline, turned as she saw me, and said: "I wish I could go +with you. But evening dress is not the thing for a shivery night +in a speed boat. I think I know as much about it as Mr. Verplanck. +Are you going to leave Armand?" + +"Yes," replied Kennedy, taking his place beside Verplanck, who was +seated at the steering wheel. "Walter and McNeill, if you two will +sit back there, we're ready. All right." + +Armand had cast us off and Mrs. Verplanck waved from the end of +the float as the Streamline quickly shot out into the night, a +buzzing, throbbing shape of mahogany and brass, with her exhausts +sticking out like funnels and booming like a pipe organ. It took +her only seconds to eat into the miles. + +"A little more to port," said Kennedy, as Verplanck swung her +around. + +Just then the steady droning of the engine seemed a bit less +rhythmical. Verplanck throttled her down, but it had no effect. He +shut her off. Something was wrong. As he crawled out into the +space forward of us where the engine was, it seemed as if the +Streamline had broken down suddenly and completely. + +Here we were floundering around in the middle of the bay. + +"Chuck-chuck-chuck," came in quick staccato out of the night. It +was Montgomery Carter, alone, on his way across the bay from the +club, in his own boat. + +"Hello--Carter," called Verplanck. + +"Hello, Verplanck. What's the matter?" + +"Don't know. Engine trouble of some kind. Can you give us a line?" + +"I've got to go down to the house," he said, ranging up near us. +"Then I can take you back. Perhaps I'd better get you out of the +way of any other boats first. You don't mind going over and then +back?" + +Verplanck looked at Craig. "On the contrary," muttered Craig, as +he made fast the welcome line. + +The Carter dock was some three miles from the club on the other +side of the bay. As we came up to it, Carter shut off his engine, +bent over it a moment, made fast, and left us with a hurried, +"Wait here." + +Suddenly, overhead, we heard a peculiar whirring noise that seemed +to vibrate through the air. Something huge, black, monster-like, +slid down a board runway into the water, traveled a few feet, in +white suds and spray, rose in the darkness--and was gone! + +As the thing disappeared, I thought I could hear a mocking laugh +flung back at us. + +"What is it?" I asked, straining my eyes at what had seemed for an +instant like a great flying fish with finny tail and huge fins at +the sides and above. + +"'Aquaero,'" quoted Kennedy quickly. "Don't you understand--a +hydroaeroplane--a flying boat. There are hundreds of privately +owned flying boats now wherever there is navigable water. That was +the secret of Carter's boathouse, of the light we saw in the air." + +"But this Aquaero--who is he?" persisted McNeill. "Carter-- +Wickham--Australia Mac?" + +We looked at each other blankly. No one said a word. We were +captured, just as effectively as if we were ironed in a dungeon. +There were the black water, the distant lights, which at any other +time I should have said would have been beautiful. + +Kennedy had sprung into Carter's boat. + +"The deuce," he exclaimed. "He's put her out of business." + +Verplanck, chagrined, had been going over his own engine +feverishly. "Do you see that?" he asked suddenly, holding up in +the light of a lantern a little nut which he had picked out of the +complicated machinery. "It never belonged to this engine. Some one +placed it there, knowing it would work its way into a vital part +with the vibration." + +Who was the person, the only one who could have done it? The +answer was on my lips, but I repressed it. Mrs. Verplanck herself +had been bending over the engine when last I saw her. All at once +it flashed over me that she knew more about the phantom bandit +than she had admitted. Yet what possible object could she have had +in putting the Streamline out of commission? + +My mind was working rapidly, piecing together the fragmentary +facts. The remark of Kennedy, long before, instantly assumed new +significance. What were the possibilities of blackmail in the +right sort of evidence? The yeggman had been after what was more +valuable than jewels--letters! Whose? Suddenly I saw the +situation. Carter had not been robbed at all. He was in league +with the robber. That much was a blind to divert suspicion. He was +a lawyer--some one's lawyer. I recalled the message about letters +and evidence, and as I did so there came to mind a picture of +Carter and the woman he had been dancing with. In return for his +inside information about the jewels of the wealthy homes of +Bluffwood, the yeggman was to get something of interest and +importance to his client. + +The situation called for instant action. Yet what could we do, +marooned on the other side of the bay? + +From the Club dock a long finger of light swept out into the +night, plainly enough near the dock, but diffused and disclosing +nothing in the distance. Armand had trained it down the bay in the +direction we had taken, but by the time the beam reached us it was +so weak that it was lost. + +Craig had leaped up on the Carter dock and was capping and +uncapping with the brass cover the package which contained the +triple mirror. + +Still in the distance I could see the wide path of light, aimed +toward us, but of no avail. + +"What are you doing?" I asked. + +"Using the triple mirror to signal to Armand. It is something +better than wireless. Wireless requires heavy and complicated +apparatus. This is portable, heatless, almost weightless, a source +of light depending for its power on another source of light at a +great distance." + +I wondered how Armand could ever detect its feeble ray. + +"Even in the case of a rolling ship," Kennedy continued, +alternately covering and uncovering the mirror, "the beam of light +which this mirror reflects always goes back, unerring, to its +source. It would do so from an aeroplane, so high in the air that +it could not be located. The returning beam is invisible to anyone +not immediately in the path of the ray, and the ray always goes to +the observer. It is simply a matter of pure mathematics +practically applied. The angle of incidence equals the angle of +reflection. There is not a variation of a foot in two miles." + +"What message are you sending him?" asked Verplanck. + +"To tell Mrs. Hollingsworth to hurry home immediately," Kennedy +replied, still flashing the letters according to his code. + +"Mrs. Hollingsworth?" repeated Verplanck, looking up. + +"Yes. This hydroaeroplane yeggman is after something besides +jewels to-night. Were those letters that were stolen from you the +only ones you had in the safe?" + +Verplanck looked up quickly. "Yes, yes. Of course." + +"You had none from a woman--" + +"No," he almost shouted. Of a sudden it seemed to dawn on him what +Kennedy was driving at--the robbery of his own house with no loss +except of a packet of letters on business, followed by the attempt +on Mrs. Hollingsworth. "Do you think I'd keep dynamite, even in +the safe?" + +To hide his confusion he had turned and was bending again over the +engine. + +"How is it?" asked Kennedy, his signaling over. + +"Able to run on four cylinders and one propeller," replied +Verplanck. + +"Then let's try her. Watch the engine. I'll take the wheel." + +Limping along, the engine skipping and missing, the once peerless +Streamline started back across the bay. Instead of heading toward +the club, Kennedy pointed her bow somewhere between that and +Verplanck's. + +"I wish Armand would get busy," he remarked, after glancing now +and then in the direction of the club. "What can be the matter?" + +"What do you mean?" I asked. + +There came the boom as if of a gun far away in the direction in +which he was looking, then another. + +"Oh, there it is. Good fellow. I suppose he had to deliver my +message to Mrs. Hollingsworth himself first." + +From every quarter showed huge balls of fire, rising from the sea, +as it were, with a brilliantly luminous flame. + +"What is it?" I asked, somewhat startled. + +"A German invention for use at night against torpedo and aeroplane +attacks. From that mortar Armand has shot half a dozen bombs of +phosphide of calcium which are hurled far into the darkness. They +are so constructed that they float after a short plunge and are +ignited on contact by the action of the salt water itself." + +It was a beautiful pyrotechnic display, lighting up the shore and +hills of the bay as if by an unearthly flare. + +"There's that thing now!" exclaimed Kennedy. + +In the glow we could see a peculiar, birdlike figure flying +through the air over toward the Hollingsworth house. It was the +hydroaeroplane. + +Out from the little stretch of lawn under the accentuated shadow +of the trees, she streaked into the air, swaying from side to side +as the pilot operated the stabilizers on the ends of the planes to +counteract the puffs of wind off the land. + +How could she ever be stopped? + +The Streamline, halting and limping, though she was, had almost +crossed the bay before the light bombs had been fired by Armand. +Every moment brought the flying boat nearer. + +She swerved. Evidently the pilot had seen us at last and realized +who we were. I was so engrossed watching the thing that I had not +noticed that Kennedy had given the wheel to Verplanck and was +standing in the bow, endeavoring to sight what looked like a huge +gun. + +In rapid succession half a dozen shots rang out. I fancied I could +almost hear the ripping and tearing of the tough rubber-coated +silken wings of the hydroaeroplane as the wind widened the +perforation the gun had made. + +She had not been flying high, but now she swooped down almost like +a gull, seeking to rest on the water. We were headed toward her +now, and as the flying boat sank I saw one of the passengers rise +in his seat, swing his arm, and far out something splashed in the +bay. + +On the water, with wings helpless, the flying boat was no match +for the Streamline now. She struck at an acute angle, rebounded in +the air for a moment, and with a hiss skittered along over the +waves, planing with the help of her exhaust under the step of the +boat. + +There she was, a hull, narrow, scow-bowed, like a hydroplane, with +a long pointed stern and a cockpit for two men, near the bow. +There were two wide, winglike planes, on a light latticework of +wood covered with silk, trussed and wired like a kite frame, the +upper plane about five feet above the lower, which was level with +the boat deck. We could see the eight-cylindered engine which +drove a two-bladed wooden propeller, and over the stern were the +air rudder and the horizontal planes. There she was, the hobbled +steed now of the phantom bandit who had accomplished the seemingly +impossible. + +In spite of everything, however, the flying boat reached the shore +a trifle ahead of us. As she did so both figures in her jumped, +and one disappeared quickly up the bank, leaving the other alone. + +"Verplanck, McNeill--get him," cried Kennedy, as our own boat +grated on the beach. "Come, Walter, we'll take the other one." + +The man had seen that there was no safety in flight. Down the +shore he stood, without a hat, his hair blown pompadour by the +wind. + +As we approached Carter turned superciliously, unbuttoning his +bulky khaki life preserver jacket. + +"Well?" he asked coolly. + +Not for a moment did Kennedy allow the assumed coolness to take +him back, knowing that Carter's delay did not cover the retreat of +the other man. + +"So," Craig exclaimed, "you are the--the air pirate?" + +Carter disdained to reply. + +"It was you who suggested the millionaire households, full of +jewels, silver and gold, only half guarded; you, who knew the +habits of the people; you, who traded that information in return +for another piece of thievery by your partner, Australia Mac-- +Wickham he called himself here in Bluffwood. It was you---" + +A car drove up hastily, and I noted that we were still on the +Hollingsworth estate. Mrs. Hollingsworth had seen us and had +driven over toward us. + +"Montgomery!" she cried, startled. + +"Yes," said Kennedy quickly, "air pirate and lawyer for Mrs. +Verplanck in the suit which she contemplated bringing--" + +Mrs. Hollingsworth grew pale under the ghastly, flickering light +from the bay. + +"Oh!" she cried, realizing at what Kennedy hinted, "the letters!" + +"At the bottom of the harbor, now," said Kennedy. "Mr. Verplanck +tells me he has destroyed his. The past is blotted out as far as +that is concerned. The future is--for you three to determine. For +the present I've caught a yeggman and a blackmailer." + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE WIRELESS WIRETAPPERS + + +Kennedy did not wait at Bluffwood longer than was necessary. It +was easy enough now to silence Montgomery Carter, and the +reconciliation of the Verplancks was assured. In the Star I made +the case appear at the time to involve merely the capture of +Australia Mac. + +When I dropped into the office the next day as usual, I found that +I had another assignment that would take me out on Long Island. +The story looked promising and I was rather pleased to get it. + +"Bound for Seaville, I'll wager," sounded a familiar voice in my +ear, as I hurried up to the train entrance at the Long Island +corner of the Pennsylvania Station. + +I turned quickly, to find Kennedy just behind me, breathless and +perspiring. + +"Er--yes," I stammered in surprise at seeing him so unexpectedly, +"but where did you come from? How did you know?" + +"Let me introduce Mr. Jack Waldon," he went on, as we edged our +way toward the gate, "the brother of Mrs. Tracy Edwards, who +disappeared so strangely from the houseboat Lucie last night at +Seaville. That is the case you're going to write up, isn't it?" + +It was then for the first time that I noticed the excited young +man beside Kennedy was really his companion. + +I shook hands with Waldon, who gave me a grip that was both a +greeting and an added impulse in our general direction through the +wicket. + +"Might have known the Star would assign you to this Edwards case," +panted Kennedy, mopping his forehead, for the heat in the terminal +was oppressive and the crowd, though not large, was closely +packed. "Mr. Jameson is my right-hand man," he explained to +Waldon, taking us each by the arm and urging us forward. "Waldon +was afraid we might miss the train or I should have tried to get +you, Walter, at the office." + +It was all done so suddenly that they quite took away what +remaining breath I had, as we settled ourselves to swelter in the +smoker instead of in the concourse. I did not even protest at the +matter-of-fact assurance with which Craig assumed that his +deduction as to my destination was correct. + +Waldon, a handsome young fellow in a flannel suit and yachting cap +somewhat the worse for his evidently perturbed state of mind, +seemed to eye me for the moment doubtfully, in spite of Kennedy's +cordial greeting. + +"I've had all the first editions of the evening papers," I hinted +as we sped through the tunnel, "but the stories seemed to be quite +the same--pretty meager in details." + +"Yes," returned Waldon with a glance at Kennedy, "I tried to keep +as much out of the papers as I could just now for Lucie's sake." + +"You needn't fear Jameson," remarked Kennedy. + +He fumbled in his pocket, then paused a moment and shot a glance +of inquiry at Waldon, who nodded a mute acquiescence to him. + +"There seem to have been a number of very peculiar disappearances +lately," resumed Kennedy, "but this case of Mrs. Edwards is by far +the most extraordinary. Of course the Star hasn't had that--yet," +he concluded, handing me a sheet of notepaper. + +"Mr. Waldon didn't give it out, hoping to avoid scandal." + +I took the paper and read eagerly, in a woman's hand: + +"MY DEAR MISS FOX: I have been down here at Seaville on our +houseboat, the Lucie, for several days for a purpose which now is +accomplished. + +"Already I had my suspicions of you, from a source which I need +not name. Therefore, when the Kronprinz got into wireless +communication with the station at Seaville I determined through +our own wireless on the Lucie to overhear whether there would be +any exchange of messages between my husband and yourself. + +"I was able to overhear the whole thing and I want you to know +that your secret is no longer a secret from me, and that I have +already told Mr. Edwards that I know it. You ruin his life by your +intimacy which you seem to want to keep up, although you know you +have no right to do it, but you shall not ruin mine. + +"I am thoroughly disillusioned now. I have not decided on what +steps to take, but--" + +Only a casual glance was necessary to show me that the writing +seemed to grow more and more weak as it progressed, and the note +stopped abruptly, as if the writer had been suddenly interrupted +or some new idea had occurred to her. + +Hastily I tried to figure it out. Lucie Waldon, as everybody knew, +was a famous beauty, a marvel of charm and daintiness, slender, +with big, soulful, wistful eyes. Her marriage to Tracy Edwards, +the wealthy plunger and stockbroker, had been a great social event +the year before, and it was reputed at the time that Edwards had +showered her with jewels and dresses to the wonder and talk even +of society. + +As for Valerie Fox, I knew she had won quick recognition and even +fame as a dancer in New York during the previous winter, and I +recalled reading three or four days before that she had just +returned on the Kronprinz from a trip abroad. + +"I don't suppose you have had time to see Miss Fox," I remarked. +"Where is she?" + +"At Beach Park now, I think," replied Waldon, "a resort a few +miles nearer the city on the south shore, where there is a large +colony of actors." + +I handed back the letter to Kennedy. + +"What do you make of it?" he asked, as he folded it up and put it +back into his pocket. + +"I hardly know what to say," I replied. "Of course there have been +rumors, I believe, that all was not exactly like a honeymoon still +with the Tracy Edwardses." + +"Yes," returned Waldon slowly, "I know myself that there has been +some trouble, but nothing definite until I found this letter last +night in my sister's room. She never said anything about it either +to mother or myself. They haven't been much together during the +summer, and last night when she disappeared Tracy was in the city. +But I hadn't thought much about it before, for, of course, you +know he has large financial interests that make him keep in pretty +close touch with New York and this summer hasn't been a +particularly good one on the stock exchange." + +"And," I put in, "a plunger doesn't always make the best of +husbands. Perhaps there is temperament to be reckoned with here." + +"There seem to be a good many things to be reckoned with," Craig +considered. "For example, here's a houseboat, the Lucie, a +palatial affair, cruising about aimlessly, with a beautiful woman +on it. She gives a little party, in the absence of her husband, to +her brother, his fiancee and her mother, who visit her from his +yacht, the Nautilus. They break up, those living on the Lucie +going to their rooms and the rest back to the yacht, which is +anchored out further in the deeper water of the bay. + +"Some time in the middle of the night her maid, Juanita, finds +that she is not in her room. Her brother is summoned back from his +yacht and finds that she has left this pathetic, unfinished +letter. But otherwise there is no trace of her. Her husband is +notified and hurries out there, but he can find no clue. +Meanwhile, Mr. Waldon, in despair, hurries down to the city to +engage me quietly." + +"You remember I told you," suggested Waldon, "that my sister +hadn't been feeling well for several days. In fact it seemed that +the sea air wasn't doing her much good, and some one last night +suggested that she try the mountains." + +"Had there been anything that would foreshadow the--er-- +disappearance?" asked Kennedy. + +"Only as I say, that for two or three days she seemed to be +listless, to be sinking by slow and easy stages into a sort of +vacant, moody state of ill health." + +"She had a doctor, I suppose?" I asked. + +"Yes, Dr. Jermyn, Tracy's own personal physician came down from +the city several days ago." + +"What did he say?" + +"He simply said that it was congestion of the lungs. As far as he +could see there was no apparent cause for it. I don't think he was +very enthusiastic about the mountain air idea. The fact is he was +like a good many doctors under the circumstances, noncommittal-- +wanted her under observation, and all that sort of thing." + +"What's your opinion?" I pressed Craig. "Do you think she has run +away?" + +"Naturally, I'd rather not attempt to say yet," Craig replied +cautiously. "But there are several possibilities. Yes, she might +have left the houseboat in some other boat, of course. Then there +is the possibility of accident. It was a hot night. She might have +been leaning from the window and have lost her balance. I have +even thought of drugs, that she might have taken something in her +despondency and have fallen overboard while under the influence of +it. Then, of course, there are the two deductions that everyone +has made already--either suicide or murder." + +Waldon had evidently been turning something over in his mind. + +"There was a wireless outfit aboard the houseboat," he ventured at +length. + +"What of that?" I asked, wondering why he was changing the subject +so abruptly. + +"Why, only this," he replied. "I have been reading about wireless +a good deal lately, and if the theories of some scientists are +correct, the wireless age is not without its dangers as well as +its wonders. I recall reading not long ago of a German professor +who says there is no essential difference between wireless waves +and the X-rays, and we know the terrible physical effects of X- +rays. I believe he estimated that only one three hundred millionth +part of the electrical energy generated by sending a message from +one station to another near by is actually used up in transmitting +the message. The rest is dispersed in the atmosphere. There must +be a good deal of such stray electrical energy about Seaville. +Isn't it possible that it might hit some one somewhere who was +susceptible?" + +Kennedy said nothing. Waldon's was at least a novel idea, whether +it was plausible or not. The only way to test it out, as far as I +could determine, was to see whether it fitted with the facts after +a careful investigation of the case itself. + +It was still early in the day and the trains were not as crowded +as they would be later. Consequently our journey was comfortable +enough and we found ourselves at last at the little vine-covered +station at Seaville. + +One could almost feel that the gay summer colony was in a state of +subdued excitement. As we left the quaint station and walked down +the main street to the town wharf where we expected some one would +be waiting for us, it seemed as if the mysterious disappearance of +the beautiful Mrs. Edwards had put a damper on the life of the +place. In the hotels there were knots of people evidently +discussing the affair, for as we passed we could tell by their +faces that they recognized us. One or two bowed and would have +joined us, if Waldon had given any encouragement. But he did not +stop, and we kept on down the street quickly. + +I myself began to feel the spell of mystery about the case as I +had not felt it among the distractions of the city. Perhaps I +imagined it, but there even seemed to be something strange about +the houseboat which we could descry at anchor far down the bay as +we approached the wharf. + +We were met, as Waldon had arranged, by a high-powered runabout, +the tender to his own yacht, a slim little craft of mahogany and +brass, driven like an automobile, and capable of perhaps twenty- +five or thirty miles an hour. We jumped in and were soon skimming +over the waters of the bay like a skipping stone. + +It was evident that Waldon was much relieved at having been able +to bring assistance, in which he had as much confidence as he +reposed in Kennedy. At any rate it was something to be nearing the +scene of action again. + +The Lucie was perhaps seventy feet long and a most attractive +craft, with a hull yachty in appearance and of a type which could +safely make long runs along the coast, a stanch, seaworthy boat, +of course without the speed of the regularly designed yacht, but +more than making up in comfort for those on board what was lost in +that way. Waldon pointed out with obvious pride his own trim yacht +swinging gracefully at anchor a half mile or so away. + +As we approached the houseboat I looked her over carefully. One of +the first things I noticed was that there rose from the roof the +primitive inverted V aerial of a wireless telegraph. I thought +immediately of the unfinished letter and its contents, and shaded +my eyes as I took a good look at the powerful transatlantic +station on the spit of sand perhaps three or four miles distant, +with its tall steel masts of the latest inverted L type and the +cluster of little houses below, in which the operators and the +plant were. + +Waldon noticed what I was looking at, and remarked, "It's a +wonderful station--and well worth a visit, if you have the time-- +one of the most powerful on the coast, I understand." + +"How did the Lucie come to be equipped with wireless?" asked Craig +quickly. "It's a little unusual for a private boat." + +"Mr. Edwards had it done when she was built," explained Waldon. +"His idea was to use it to keep in touch with the stock market on +trips." + +"And it has proved effective?" asked Craig. + +"Oh, yes--that is, it was all right last winter when he went on a +short cruise down in Florida. This summer he hasn't been on the +boat long enough to use it much." + +"Who operates it?" + +"He used to hire a licensed operator, although I believe the +engineer, Pedersen, understands the thing pretty well and could +use it if necessary." + +"Do you think it was Pedersen who used it for Mrs. Edwards?" asked +Kennedy. + +"I really don't know," confessed Waldon. "Pedersen denies +absolutely that he has touched the thing for weeks. I want you to +quiz him. I wasn't able to get him to admit a thing." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE HOUSEBOAT MYSTERY + + +We had by this time swung around to the side of the houseboat. I +realized as we mounted the ladder that the marine gasoline engine +had materially changed the old-time houseboat from a mere scow or +barge with a low flat house on it, moored in a bay or river, and +only with difficulty and expense towed from one place to another. +Now the houseboat was really a fair-sized yacht. + +The Lucie was built high in order to give plenty of accommodation +for the living quarters. The staterooms, dining rooms and saloon +were really rooms, with seven or eight feet of head room, and +furnished just as one would find in a tasteful and expensive +house. + +Down in the hull, of course, was the gasoline motor which drove +the propeller, so that when the owner wanted a change of scene all +that was necessary was to get up anchor, start the motor and +navigate the yacht-houseboat to some other harbor. + +Edwards himself met us on the deck. He was a tall man, with a red +face, a man of action, of outdoor life, apparently a hard worker +and a hard player. It was quite evident that he had been waiting +for the return of Waldon anxiously. + +"You find us considerably upset, Professor Kennedy," he greeted +Craig, as his brother-in-law introduced us. + +Edwards turned and led the way toward the saloon. As he entered +and bade us be seated in the costly cushioned wicker chairs I +noticed how sumptuously it was furnished, and particularly its +mechanical piano, its phonograph and the splendid hardwood floor +which seemed to invite one to dance in the cool breeze that +floated across from one set of open windows to the other. And yet +in spite of everything, there was that indefinable air of +something lacking, as in a house from which the woman is gone, + +"You were not here last night, I understand," remarked Kennedy, +taking in the room at a glance. + +"Unfortunately, no," replied Edwards, "Business has kept me with +my nose pretty close to the grindstone this summer. Waldon called +me up in the middle of the night, however, and I started down in +my car, which enabled me to get here before the first train. I +haven't been able to do a thing since I got here except just wait- +-wait--wait. I confess that I don't know what else to do. Waldon +seemed to think we ought to have some one down here--and I guess +he was right. Anyhow, I'm glad to see you." + +I watched Edwards keenly. For the first time I realized that I had +neglected to ask Waldon whether he had seen the unfinished letter. +The question was unnecessary. It was evident that he had not. + +"Let me see, Waldon, if I've got this thing straight," Edwards +went on, pacing restlessly up and down the saloon. "Correct me if +I haven't. Last night, as I understand it, there was a sort of +little family party here, you and Miss Verrall and your mother +from the Nautilus, and Mrs. Edwards and Dr. Jermyn." + +"Yes," replied Waldon with, I thought, a touch of defiance at the +words "family party." He paused as if he would have added that the +Nautilus would have been more congenial, anyhow, then added, "We +danced a little bit, all except Lucie. She said she wasn't feeling +any too well." + +Edwards had paused by the door. "If you'll excuse me a minute," he +said, "I'll call Jermyn and Mrs. Edwards' maid, Juanita. You ought +to go over the whole thing immediately, Professor Kennedy." + +"Why didn't you say anything about the letter to him?" asked +Kennedy under his breath. + +"What was the use?" returned Waldon. "I didn't know how he'd take +it. Besides, I wanted your advice on the whole thing. Do you want +to show it to him?" + +"Perhaps it's just as well," ruminated Kennedy. "It may be +possible to clear the thing up without involving anybody's name. +At any rate, some one is coming down the passage this way." + +Edwards entered with Dr. Jermyn, a clean-shaven man, youthful in +appearance, yet approaching middle age. I had heard of him before. +He had studied several years abroad and had gained considerable +reputation since his return to America. + +Dr. Jermyn shook hands with us cordially enough, made some passing +comment on the tragedy, and stood evidently waiting for us to +disclose our hands. + +"You have been Mrs. Edwards' physician for some time, I believe?" +queried Kennedy, fencing for an opening. + +"Only since her marriage," replied the doctor briefly. + +"She hadn't been feeling well for several days, had she?" ventured +Kennedy again. + +"No," replied Dr. Jermyn quickly. "I doubt whether I can add much +to what you already know. I suppose Mr. Waldon has told you about +her illness. The fact is, I suppose her maid Juanita will be able +to tell you really more than I can." + +I could not help feeling that Dr. Jermyn showed a great deal of +reluctance in talking. + +"You have been with her several days, though, haven't you?" + +"Four days, I think. She was complaining of feeling nervous and +telegraphed me to come down here. I came prepared to stay over +night, but Mr. Edwards happened to run down that day, too, and he +asked me if I wouldn't remain longer. My practice in the summer is +such that I can easily leave it with my assistant in the city, so +I agreed. Really, that is about all I can say. I don't know yet +what was the matter with Mrs. Edwards, aside from the nervousness +which seemed to be of some time standing." + +He stood facing us, thoughtfully stroking his chin, as a very +pretty and petite maid nervously entered and stood facing us in +the doorway. + +"Come in, Juanita," encouraged Edwards. "I want you to tell these +gentlemen just what you told me about discovering that Madame had +gone--and anything else that you may recall now." + +"It was Juanita who discovered that Madame was gone, you know," +put in Waldon. + +"How did you discover it?" prompted Craig. + +"It was very hot," replied the maid, "and often on hot nights I +would come in and fan Madame since she was so wakeful. Last night +I went to the door and knocked. There was no reply. I called to +her, 'Madame, madame.' Still there was no answer. The worst I +supposed was that she had fainted. I continued to call." + +"The door was locked?" inquired Kennedy. + +"Yes, sir. My call aroused the others on the boat. Dr. Jermyn came +and he broke open the door with his shoulder. But the room was +empty. Madame was gone." + +"How about the windows?" asked Kennedy. + +"Open. They were always open these nights. Sometimes Madame would +sit by the window when there was not much breeze." + +"I should like to see the room," remarked Craig, with an inquiring +glance at Edwards. + +"Certainly," he answered, leading the way down a corridor. + +Mrs. Edwards' room was on the starboard side, with wide windows +instead of portholes. It was furnished magnificently and there was +little about it that suggested the nautical, except the view from +the window. + +"The bed had not been slept in," Edwards remarked as we looked +about curiously. + +Kennedy walked over quickly to the wide series of windows before +which was a leather-cushioned window seat almost level with the +window, several feet above the level of the water. It was by this +window, evidently, that Juanita meant that Mrs. Edwards often sat. +It was a delightful position, but I could readily see that it +would be comparatively easy for anyone accidentally or purposely +to fall. + +"I think myself," Waldon remarked to Kennedy, "that it must have +been from the open window that she made her way to the outside. It +seems that all agree that the door was locked, while the window +was wide open." + +"There had been no sound--no cry to alarm you?" shot out Kennedy +suddenly to Juanita. + +"No, sir, nothing. I could not sleep myself, and I thought of +Madame." + +"You heard nothing?" he asked of Dr. Jermyn. + +"Nothing until I heard the maid call," he replied briefly. + +Mentally I ran over again Kennedy's first list of possibilities-- +taken off by another boat, accident, drugs, suicide, murder. + +Was there, I asked myself, sufficient reason for suicide? The +letter seemed to me to show too proud a spirit for that. In fact +the last sentence seemed to show that she was contemplating the +surest method of revenge, rather than surrender. As for accident, +why should a person fall overboard from a large houseboat into a +perfectly calm harbor? Then, too, there had been no outcry. +Somehow, I could not seem to fit any of the theories in with the +facts. Evidently it was like many another case, one in which we, +as yet, had insufficient data for a conclusion. + +Suddenly I recalled the theory that Waldon himself had advanced +regarding the wireless, either from the boat itself or from the +wireless station. For the moment, at least, it seemed plausible +that she might have been seated at the window, that she might have +been affected by escaped wireless, or by electrolysis. I knew that +some physicians had described a disease which they attributed to +wireless, a sort of anemia with a marked diminution in the number +of red corpuscles in the blood, due partly to the over +etherization of the air by reason of the alternating currents used +to generate the waves. + +"I should like now to inspect the little wireless plant you have +here on the Lucie," remarked Kennedy. "I noticed the mast as we +were approaching a few minutes ago." + +I had turned at the sound of his voice in time to catch Edwards +and Dr. Jermyn eyeing each other furtively. Did they know about +the letter, after all, I wondered? Was each in doubt about just +how much the other knew? + +There was no time to pursue these speculations. "Certainly," +agreed Mr. Edwards promptly, leading the way. + +Kennedy seemed keenly interested in inspecting the little wireless +plant, which was of a curious type and not exactly like any that I +had seen before. + +"Wireless apparatus," he remarked, as he looked it over, "is +divided into three parts, the source of power whether battery or +dynamo, the making and sending of wireless waves, including the +key, spark, condenser and tuning coil, and the receiving +apparatus, head telephones, antennae, ground and detector." + +Pedersen, the engineer, came in while we were looking the plant +over, but seemed uncommunicative to all Kennedy's efforts to +engage him in conversation. + +"I see," remarked Kennedy, "that it is a very compact system with +facilities for a quick change from one wave length to another." + +"Yes," grunted Pedersen, as averse to talking, evidently, as +others on the Lucie. + +"Spark gap, quenched type," I heard Kennedy mutter almost to +himself, with a view to showing Pedersen that he knew something +about it. "Break system relay--operator can overhear any +interference while transmitting--transformation by a single throw +of a six-point switch which tunes the oscillating and open +circuits to resonance. Very clever--very efficient. By the way, +Pedersen, are you the only person aboard who can operate this?" + +"How should I know?" he answered almost surlily. + +"You ought to know, if anybody," answered Kennedy unruffled. "I +know that it has been operated within the past few days." + +Pedersen shrugged his shoulders. "You might ask the others +aboard," was all he said. "Mr. Edwards pays me to operate it only +for himself, when he has no other operator." + +Kennedy did not pursue the subject, evidently from fear of saying +too much just at present. + +"I wonder if there is anyone else who could have operated it," +said Waldon, as we mounted again to the deck. + +"I don't know," replied Kennedy, pausing on the way up. "You +haven't a wireless on the Nautilus, have you?" + +Waldon shook his head. "Never had any particular use for it +myself," he answered. + +"You say that Miss Verrall and her mother have gone back to the +city?" pursued Kennedy, taking care that as before the others were +out of earshot. + +"Yes." + +"I'd like to stay with you tonight, then," decided Kennedy. "Might +we go over with you now? There doesn't seem to be anything more I +can do here, unless we get some news about Mrs. Edwards." + +Waldon seemed only too glad to agree, and no one on the Lucie +insisted on our staying. + +We arrived at the Nautilus a few minutes later, and while we were +lunching Kennedy dispatched the tender to the Marconi station with +a note. + +It was early in the afternoon when the tender returned with +several packages and coils of wire. Kennedy immediately set to +work on the Nautilus stretching out some of the wire. + +"What is it you are planning?" asked Waldon, to whom every action +of Kennedy seemed to be a mystery of the highest interest. + +"Improvising my own wireless," he replied, not averse to talking +to the young man to whom he seemed to have taken a fancy. "For +short distances, you know, it isn't necessary to construct an +aerial pole or even to use outside wires to receive messages. All +that is needed is to use just a few wires stretched inside a room. +The rest is just the apparatus." + +I was quite as much interested as Waldon. "In wireless," he went +on, "the signals are not sent in one direction, but in all, so +that a person within range of the ethereal disturbance can get +them if only he has the necessary receiving apparatus. This +apparatus need not be so elaborate and expensive as used to be +thought needful if a sensitive detector is employed, and I have +sent over to the station for a new piece of apparatus which I knew +they had in almost any Marconi station. Why, I've got wireless +signals using only twelve feet of number eighteen copper wire +stretched across a room and grounded with a water pipe. You might +even use a wire mattress on an iron bedstead." + +"Can't they find out by--er, interference?" I asked, repeating the +term I had so often heard. + +Kennedy laughed. "No, not for radio apparatus which merely +receives radiograms and is not equipped for sending. I am setting +up only one side of a wireless outfit here. All I want to do is to +hear what is being said. I don't care about saying anything." + +He unwrapped another package which had been loaned to him by the +radio station and we watched him curiously as he tested it and set +it up. Some parts of it I recognized such as the very sensitive +microphone, and another part I could have sworn was a phonograph +cylinder, though Craig was so busy testing his apparatus that now +we could not ask questions. + +It was late in the afternoon when he finished, and we had just +time to run up to the dock at Seaville and stop off at the Lucie +to see if anything had happened in the intervening hours before +dinner. There was nothing, except that I found time to file a +message to the Star and meet several fellow newspaper men who had +been sent down by other papers on the chance of picking up a good +story. + +We had the Nautilus to ourselves, and as she was a very +comfortable little craft, we really had a very congenial time, a +plunge over her side, a good dinner, and then a long talk out on +deck under the stars, in which we went over every phase of the +case. As we discussed it, Waldon followed keenly, and it was quite +evident from his remarks that he had come to the conclusion that +Dr. Jermyn at least knew more than he had told about the case. + +Still, the day wore away with no solution yet of the mystery. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE RADIO DETECTIVE + + +It was early the following morning when a launch drew up beside +the Nautilus. In it were Edwards and Dr. Jermyn, wildly excited. + +"What's the matter?" called out Waldon. + +"They--they have found the body," Edwards blurted out. + +Waldon paled and clutched the rail. He had thought the world of +his sister, and not until the last moment had he given up hope +that perhaps she might be found to have disappeared in some other +way than had become increasingly evident. + +"Where?" cried Kennedy. "Who?" + +"Over on Ten Mile Beach," answered Edwards. "Some fishermen who +had been out on a cruise and hadn't heard the story. They took the +body to town, and there it was recognized. They sent word out to +us immediately." + +Waldon had already spun the engine of his tender, which was about +the fastest thing afloat about Seaville, had taken Edwards over, +and we were off in a cloud of spray, the nose of the boat many +inches above the surface of the water. + +In the little undertaking establishment at Seaville lay the body +of the beautiful young matron about whom so much anxiety had been +felt. I could not help thinking what an end was this for the +incomparable beauty. At the very height of her brief career the +poor little woman's life had been suddenly snuffed out. But by +what? The body had been found, but the mystery had been far from +solved. + +As Kennedy bent over the body, I heard him murmur to himself, "She +had everything--everything except happiness." + +"Was it drowning that caused her death?" asked Kennedy of the +local doctor, who also happened to be coroner and had already +arrived on the scene. + +The doctor shook his head. "I don't know," he said doubtfully. +"There was congestion of the lungs--but I--I can't say but what +she might have been dead before she fell or was thrown into the +water." + +Dr. Jermyn stood on one side, now and then putting in a word, but +for the most part silent unless spoken to. Kennedy, however, was +making a most minute examination. + +As he turned the beautiful head, almost reverently, he saw +something that evidently attracted his attention. I was standing +next to him and, between us, I think we cut off the view of the +others. There on the back of the neck, carefully, had been smeared +something transparent, almost skin-like, which had easily escaped +the attention of the rest. + +Kennedy tried to pick it off, but only succeeded in pulling off a +very minute piece to which the flesh seemed to adhere. + +"That's queer," he whispered to me. "Water, naturally, has no +effect on it, else it would have been washed off long before. +Walter," he added, "just slip across the street quietly to the +drug store and get me a piece of gauze soaked with acetone." + +As quickly and unostentatiously as I could I did so and handed him +the wet cloth, contriving at the same time to add Waldon to our +barrier, for I could see that Kennedy was anxious to be observed +as little as possible. + +"What is it?" I whispered, as he rubbed the transparent skin-like +stuff off, and dropped the gauze into his pocket. + +"A sort of skin varnish," he remarked under his breath, +"waterproof and so adhesive that it resists pulling off even with +a knife without taking the cuticle with it." + +Beneath, as the skin varnish slowly dissolved under his gentle +rubbing, he had disclosed several very small reddish spots, like +little cuts that had been made by means of a very sharp +instrument. As he did so, he gave them a hasty glance, turned the +now stony beautiful head straight again, stood up, and resumed his +talk with the coroner, who was evidently getting more and more +bewildered by the case. + +Edwards, who had completed the arrangements with the undertaker +for the care of the body as soon as the coroner released it, +seemed completely unnerved. + +"Jermyn," he said to the doctor, as he turned away and hid his +eyes, "I can't stand this. The undertaker wants some stuff from +the--er--boat," his voice broke over the name which had been hers. +"Will you get it for me? I'm going up to a hotel here, and I'll +wait for you there. But I can't go out to the boat--yet." + +"I think Mr. Waldon will be glad to take you out in his tender," +suggested Kennedy. "Besides, I feel that I'd like a little fresh +air as a bracer, too, after such a shock." + +"What were those little cuts?" I asked as Waldon and Dr. Jermyn +preceded us through the crowd outside to the pier. + +"Some one," he answered in a low tone, "has severed the +pneumogastric nerves." + +"The pneumogastric nerves?" I repeated. + +"Yes, the vagus or wandering nerve, the so-called tenth cranial +nerve. Unlike the other cranial nerves, which are concerned with +the special senses or distributed to the skin and muscles of the +head and neck, the vagus, as its name implies, strays downward +into the chest and abdomen supplying branches to the throat, +lungs, heart and stomach and forms an important connecting link +between the brain and the sympathetic nervous system." + +We had reached the pier, and a nod from Kennedy discouraged +further conversation on the subject. + +A few minutes later we had reached the Lucie and gone up over her +side. Kennedy waited until Jermyn had disappeared into the room of +Mrs. Edwards to get what the undertaker had desired. A moment and +he had passed quietly into Dr. Jermyn's own room, followed by me. +Several quick glances about told him what not to waste time over, +and at last his eye fell on a little portable case of medicines +and surgical instruments. He opened it quickly and took out a +bottle of golden yellow liquid. + +Kennedy smelled it, then quickly painted some on the back of his +hand. It dried quickly, like an artificial skin. He had found a +bottle of skin varnish in Dr. Jermyn's own medicine chest! + +We hurried back to the deck, and a few minutes later the doctor +appeared with a large package. + +"Did you ever hear of coating the skin by a substance which is +impervious to water, smooth and elastic?" asked Kennedy quietly as +Waldon's tender sped along back to Seaville. + +"Why--er, yes," he said frankly, raising his eyes and looking at +Craig in surprise. "There have been a dozen or more such +substances. The best is one which I use, made of pyroxylin, the +soluble cotton of commerce, dissolved in amyl acetate and acetone +with some other substances that make it perfectly sterile. Why do +you ask?" + +"Because some one has used a little bit of it to cover a few +slight cuts on the back of the neck of Mrs. Edwards." + +"Indeed?" he said simply, in a tone of mild surprise. + +"Yes," pursued Kennedy. "They seem to me to be subcutaneous +incisions of the neck with a very fine scalpel dividing the two +great pneumogastric nerves. Of course you know what that would +mean--the victim would pass away naturally by slow and easy stages +in three or four days, and all that would appear might be +congestion of the lungs. They are delicate little punctures and +elusive nerves to locate, but after all it might be done as +painlessly, as simply and as safely as a barber might remove some +dead hairs. A country coroner might easily pass over such evidence +at an autopsy--especially if it was concealed by skin varnish." + +I was surprised at the frankness with which Kennedy spoke, but +absolutely amazed at the coolness of Jermyn. At first he said +absolutely nothing. He seemed to be as set in his reticence as he +had been when we first met. + +I watched him narrowly. Waldon, who was driving the boat, had not +heard what was said, but I had, and I could not conceive how +anyone could take it so calmly. + +Finally Jermyn turned to Kennedy and looked him squarely in the +eye. "Kennedy," he said slowly, "this is extraordinary--most +extraordinary," then, pausing, added, "if true." + +"There can be no doubt of the truth," replied Kennedy, eyeing Dr. +Jermyn just as squarely. + +"What do you propose to do about it?" asked the doctor. + +"Investigate," replied Kennedy simply. "While Waldon takes these +things up to the undertaker's, we may as well wait here in the +boat. I want him to stop on the way back for Mr. Edwards. Then we +shall go out to the Lucie. He must go, whether he likes it or +not." + +It was indeed a most peculiar situation as Kennedy and I sat in +the tender with Dr. Jermyn waiting for Waldon to return with +Edwards. Not a word was spoken. + +The tenseness of the situation was not relieved by the return of +Waldon with Edwards. Waldon seemed to realize without knowing just +what it was, that something was about to happen. He drove his boat +back to the Lucie again in record time. This was Kennedy's turn to +be reticent. Whatever it was he was revolving in his mind, he +answered in scarcely more than monosyllables whatever questions +were put to him. + +"You are not coming aboard?" inquired Edwards in surprise as he +and Jermyn mounted the steps of the houseboat ladder, and Kennedy +remained seated in the tender. + +"Not yet," replied Craig coolly. + +"But I thought you had something to show me. Waldon told me you +had." + +"I think I shall have in a short time," returned Kennedy. "We +shall be back immediately. I'm just going to ask Waldon to run +over to the Nautilus for a few minutes. We'll tow back your +launch, too, in case you need it." + +Waldon had cast off obediently. + +"There's one thing sure," I remarked. "Jermyn can't get away from +the Lucie until we return--unless he swims." + +Kennedy did not seem to pay much attention to the remark, for his +only reply was: "I'm taking a chance by this maneuvering, but I +think it will work out that I am correct. By the way, Waldon, you +needn't put on so much speed. I'm in no great hurry to get back. +Half an hour will be time enough." + +"Jermyn? What did you mean by Jermyn?" asked Waldon, as we climbed +to the deck of the Nautilus. + +He had evidently learned, as I had, that it was little use to try +to quiz Kennedy until he was ready to be questioned and had +decided to try it on me. + +I had nothing to conceal and I told him quite fully all that I +knew. Actually, I believe if Jermyn had been there, it would have +taken both Kennedy and myself to prevent violence. As it was I had +a veritable madman to deal with while Kennedy gathered up +leisurely the wireless outfit he had installed on the deck of +Waldon's yacht. It was only by telling him that I would certainly +demand that Kennedy leave him behind if he did not control his +feelings that I could calm him before Craig had finished his work +on the yacht. + +Waldon relieved himself by driving the tender back at top speed to +the Lucie, and now it seemed that Kennedy had no objection to +traveling as fast as the many-cylindered engine was capable of +going. + +As we entered the saloon of the houseboat, I kept close watch over +Waldon. + +Kennedy began by slipping a record on the phonograph in the corner +of the saloon, then facing us and addressing Edwards particularly. + +"You may be interested to know, Mr. Edwards," he said, "that your +wireless outfit here has been put to a use for which you never +intended it." + +No one said anything, but I am sure that some one in the room then +for the first time began to suspect what was coming. + +"As you know, by the use of an aerial pole, messages may be easily +received from any number of stations," continued Craig. "Laws, +rules and regulations may be adopted to shut out interlopers and +plug busybody ears, but the greater part of whatever is +transmitted by the Hertzian waves can be snatched down by other +wireless apparatus. + +"Down below, in that little room of yours," went on Craig, "might +sit an operator with his ear-phone clamped to his head, drinking +in the news conveyed surely and swiftly to him through the +wireless signals--plucking from the sky secrets of finance and," +he added, leaning forward, "love." + +In his usual dramatic manner Kennedy had swung his little audience +completely with him. + +"In other words," he resumed, "it might be used for eavesdropping +by a wireless wiretapper. Now," he concluded, "I thought that if +there was any radio detective work being done, I might as well do +some, too." + +He toyed for a moment with the phonograph record. "I have used," +he explained, "Marconi's radiotelephone, because in connection +with his receivers Marconi uses phonographic recorders and on them +has captured wireless telegraph signals over hundreds of miles. + +"He has found that it is possible to receive wireless signals, +although ordinary records are not loud enough, by using a small +microphone on the repeating diaphragm and connected with a loud- +speaking telephone. The chief difficulty was to get a microphone +that would carry a sufficient current without burning up. There +were other difficulties, but they have been surmounted and now +wireless telegraph messages may be automatically recorded and made +audible." + +Kennedy started the phonograph, running it along, stopping it, +taking up the record at a new point. + +"Listen," he exclaimed at length, "there's something interesting, +the WXY call--Seaville station--from some one on the Lucie only a +few minutes ago, sending a message to be relayed by Seaville to +the station at Beach Park. It seems impossible, but buzzing and +ticking forth is this message from some one off this very +houseboat. It reads: "Miss Valerie Fox, Beach Park. I am suspected +of the murder of Mrs. Edwards. I appeal to you to help me. You +must allow me to tell the truth about the messages I intercepted +for Mrs. Edwards which passed between yourself on the ocean and +Mr. Edwards in New York via Seaville. You rejected me and would +not let me save you. Now you must save me." + +Kennedy paused, then added, "The message is signed by Dr. Jermyn!" + +At once I saw it all. Jermyn had been the unsuccessful suitor for +Miss Fox's affections. But before I could piece out the rest of +the tragic story, Kennedy had started the phonograph record at an +earlier point which he had skipped for the present. + +"Here's another record--a brief one--also to Valerie Fox from the +houseboat: 'Refuse all interviews. Deny everything. Will see you +as soon as present excitement dies down.'" + +Before Kennedy could finish, Waldon had leaped forward, unable +longer to control his feelings. If Kennedy had not seized his arm, +I verily believe he would have cast Dr. Jermyn into the bay into +which his sister had fallen two nights before in her terribly +weakened condition. + +"Waldon," cried Kennedy, "for God's sake, man--wait! Don't you +understand? The second message is signed Tracy Edwards." + +It came as quite as much a shock of surprise to me as to Waldon. + +"Don't you understand?" he repeated. "Your sister first learned +from Dr. Jermyn what was going on. She moved the Lucie down here +near Seaville in order to be near the wireless station when the +ship bearing her rival, Valerie Fox, got in touch with land. With +the help of Dr. Jermyn she intercepted the wireless messages from +the Kronprinz to the shore--between her husband and Valerie Fox." + +Kennedy was hurrying on now to his irresistible conclusion. "She +found that he was infatuated with the famous stage beauty, that he +was planning to marry another, her rival. She accused him of it, +threatened to defeat his plans. He knew she knew his +unfaithfulness. Instead of being your sister's murderer, Dr. +Jermyn was helping her get the evidence that would save both her +and perhaps win Miss Fox back to himself." + +Kennedy had turned sharply on Edwards. + +"But," he added, with a glance that crushed any lingering hope +that the truth had been concealed, "the same night that Dr. Jermyn +arrived here, you visited your wife. As she slept you severed the +nerves that meant life or death to her. Then you covered the cuts +with the preparation which you knew Dr. Jermyn used. You asked him +to stay, while you went away, thinking that when death came you +would have a perfect alibi--perhaps a scapegoat. Edwards, the +radio detective convicts you!" + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE CURIO SHOP + + +Edwards crumpled up as Kennedy and I faced him. There was no +escape. In fact our greatest difficulty was to protect him from +Waldon. + +Kennedy's work in the case was over when we had got Edwards ashore +and in the hands of the authorities. But mine had just begun and +it was late when I got my story on the wire for the Star. + +I felt pretty tired and determined to make up for it by sleeping +the next day. It was no use, however. + +"Why, what's the matter, Mrs. Northrop?" I heard Kennedy ask as he +opened our door the next morning, just as I had finished dressing. + +He had admitted a young woman, who greeted us with nervous, wide- +staring eyes. + +"It's--it's about Archer," she cried, sinking into the nearest +chair and staring from one to the other of us. + +She was the wife of Professor Archer Northrop, director of the +archeological department at the university. Both Craig and I had +known her ever since her marriage to Northrop, for she was one of +the most attractive ladies in the younger set of the faculty, to +which Craig naturally belonged. Archer had been of the class below +us in the university. We had hazed him, and out of the mild hazing +there had, strangely enough, grown a strong friendship. + +I recollected quickly that Northrop, according to last reports, +had been down in the south of Mexico on an archeological +expedition. But before I could frame, even in my mind, the natural +question in a form that would not alarm his wife further, Kennedy +had it on his lips. + +"No bad news from Mitla, I hope?" he asked gently, recalling one +of the main working stations chosen by the expedition and the +reported unsettled condition of the country about it. She looked +up quickly. + +"Didn't you know--he--came back from Vera Cruz yesterday?" she +asked slowly, then added, speaking in a broken tone, "and--he +seems--suddenly--to have disappeared. Oh, such a terrible night of +worry! No word--and I called up the museum, but Doctor Bernardo, +the curator, had gone, and no one answered. And this morning--I +couldn't stand it any longer--so I came to you." + +"You have no idea, I suppose, of anything that was weighing on his +mind?" suggested Kennedy. + +"No," she answered promptly. + +In default of any further information, Kennedy did not pursue this +line of questioning. I could not determine from his face or manner +whether he thought the matter might involve another than Mrs. +Northrop, or, perhaps, something connected with the unsettled +condition of the country from which her husband had just arrived. + +"Have you any of the letters that Archer wrote home?" asked Craig, +at length. + +"Yes," she replied eagerly, taking a little packet from her +handbag. "I thought you might ask that. I brought them." + +"You are an ideal client," commented Craig encouragingly, taking +the letters. "Now, Mrs. Northrop, be brave. Trust me to run this +thing down, and if you hear anything let me know immediately." + +She left us a moment later, visibly relieved. + +Scarcely had she gone when Craig, stuffing the letters into his +pocket unread, seized his hat, and a moment later was striding +along toward the museum with his habitual rapid, abstracted step +which told me that he sensed a mystery. + +In the museum we met Doctor Bernardo, a man slightly older than +Northrop, with whom he had been very intimate. He had just arrived +and was already deeply immersed in the study of some new and +beautiful colored plates from the National Museum of Mexico City. + +"Do you remember seeing Northrop here yesterday afternoon?" +greeted Craig, without explaining what had happened. + +"Yes," he answered promptly. "I was here with him until very late. +At least, he was in his own room, working hard, when I left." + +"Did you see him go?" + +"Why--er--no," replied Bernardo, as if that were a new idea. "I +left him here--at least, I didn't see him go out." + +Kennedy tried the door of Northrop's room, which was at the far +end, in a corner, and communicated with the hall only through the +main floor of the museum. It was locked. A pass-key from the +janitor quickly opened it. + +Such a sight as greeted us, I shall never forget. There, in his +big desk-chair, sat Northrop, absolutely rigid, the most horribly +contorted look on his features that I have ever seen--half of +pain, half of fear, as if of something nameless. + +Kennedy bent over. His hands were cold. + +Northrop had been dead at least twelve hours, perhaps longer. All +night the deserted museum had guarded its terrible secret. + +As Craig peered into his face, he saw, in the fleshy part of the +neck, just below the left ear, a round red mark, with just a drop +or two of now black coagulated blood in the center. All around we +could see a vast amount of miscellaneous stuff, partly unpacked, +partly just opened, and waiting to be taken out of the wrappings +by the now motionless hands. + +"I suppose you are more or less familiar with what Northrop +brought back?" asked Kennedy of Bernardo, running his eye over the +material in the room. + +"Yes, reasonably," answered Bernardo. "Before the cases arrived +from the wharf, he told me in detail what he had managed to bring +up with him." + +"I wish, then, that you would look it over and see if there is +anything missing," requested Craig, already himself busy in going +over the room for other evidence. + +Doctor Bernardo hastily began taking a mental inventory of the +stuff. While they worked, I tried vainly to frame some theory +which would explain the startling facts we had so suddenly +discovered. + +Mitla, I knew, was south of the city of Oaxaca, and there, in its +ruined palaces, was the crowning achievement of the old Zapotec +kings. No ruins in America were more elaborately ornamented or +richer in lore for the archeologist. + +Northrop had brought up porphyry blocks with quaint grecques and +much hieroglyphic painting. Already unpacked were half a dozen +copper axes, some of the first of that particular style that had +ever been brought to the United States. Besides the sculptured +stones and the mosaics were jugs, cups, vases, little gods, +sacrificial stones--enough, almost, to equip a new alcove in the +museum. + +Before Northrop was an idol, a hideous thing on which frogs and +snakes squatted and coiled. It was a fitting piece to accompany +the gruesome occupant of the little room in his long, last vigil. +In fact, it almost sent a shudder over me, and if I had been +inclined to the superstitious, I should certainly have concluded +that this was retribution for having disturbed the lares and +penates of a dead race. + +Doctor Bernardo was going over the material a second time. By the +look on his face, even I could guess that something was missing. + +"What is it?" asked Craig, following the curator closely. + +"Why," he answered slowly, "there was an inscription--we were +looking at it earlier in the day--on a small block of porphyry. I +don't see it." + +He paused and went back to his search before we could ask him +further what he thought the inscription was about. + +I thought nothing myself at the time of his reticence, for Kennedy +had gone over to a window back of Northrop and to the left. It was +fully twenty feet from the downward slope of the campus there, +and, as he craned his neck out, he noted that the copper leader of +the rain pipe ran past it a few feet away. + +I, too, looked out. A thick group of trees hid the window from the +avenue beyond the campus wall, and below us, at a corner of the +building, was a clump of rhododendrons. As Craig bent over the +sill, he whipped out a pocket lens. + +A moment later he silently handed the glass to me. As nearly as I +could make out, there were five marks on the dust of the sill. + +"Finger-prints!" I exclaimed. "Some one has been clinging to the +edge of the ledge." + +"In that case," Craig observed quietly, "there would have been +only four prints." + +I looked again, puzzled. The prints were flat and well separated. + +"No," he added, "not finger-prints--toe-prints." + +"Toe-prints?" I echoed. + +Before he could reply, Craig had dashed out of the room, around, +and under the window. There, he was carefully going over the soft +earth around the bushes below. + +"What are you looking for?" I asked, joining him. + +"Some one--perhaps two--has been here," he remarked, almost under +his breath. "One, at least, has removed his shoes. See those shoe- +prints up to this point? The print of a boot-heel in soft earth +shows the position and contour of every nail head. Bertillon has +made a collection of such nails, certain types, sizes, and shapes +used in certain boots, showing often what country the shoes came +from. Even the number and pattern are significant. Some factories +use a fixed number of nails and arrange them in a particular +manner. I have made my own collection of such prints in this +country. These were American shoes. Perhaps the clue will not lead +us anywhere, though, for I doubt whether it was an American foot." + +Kennedy continued to study the marks. + +"He removed his shoes--either to help in climbing or to prevent +noise--ah--here's the foot! Strange--see how small it is--and +broad, how prehensile the toes--almost like fingers. Surely that +foot could never have been encased in American shoes all its life. +I shall make plaster casts of these, to preserve later." + +He was still scouting about on hands and knees in the dampness of +the rhododendrons. Suddenly he reached his long arm in among the +shrubs and picked up a little reed stick. On the end of it was a +small cylinder of buff brown. + +He looked at it curiously, dug his nail into the soft mass, then +rubbed his nail over the tip of his tongue gingerly. + +With a wry face, as if the taste were extremely acrid, he +moistened his handkerchief and wiped off his tongue vigorously. + +"Even that minute particle that was on my nail makes my tongue +tingle and feel numb," he remarked, still rubbing. "Let us go back +again. I want to see Bernardo." + +"Had he any visitors during the day?" queried Kennedy, as he +reentered the ghastly little room, while the curator stood +outside, completely unnerved by the tragedy which had been so +close to him without his apparently knowing it. Kennedy was +squeezing out from the little wound on Northrop's neck a few drops +of liquid on a sterilized piece of glass. + +"No; no one," Bernardo answered, after a moment. + +"Did you see anyone in the museum who looked suspicious?" asked +Kennedy, watching Bernardo's face keenly. + +"No," he hesitated. "There were several people wandering about +among the exhibits, of course. One, I recall, late in the +afternoon, was a little dark-skinned woman, rather good-looking." + +"A Mexican?" + +"Yes, I should say so. Not of Spanish descent, though. She was +rather of the Indian type. She seemed to be much interested in the +various exhibits, asked me several questions, very intelligently, +too. Really, I thought she was trying to--er--flirt with me." + +He shot a glance at Craig, half of confession, half of +embarrassment. + +"And--oh, yes--there was another--a man, a little man, as I +recall, with shaggy hair. He looked like a Russian to me. I +remember, because he came to the door, peered around hastily, and +went away. I thought he might have got into the wrong part of the +building and went to direct him right--but before I could get out +into the hall, he was gone. I remember, too, that, as I turned, +the woman had followed me and soon was asking other questions-- +which, I will admit--I was glad to answer." + +"Was Northrop in his room while these people were here?" + +"Yes; he had locked the door so that none of the students or +visitors could disturb him." + +"Evidently the woman was diverting your attention while the man +entered Northrop's room by the window," ruminated Craig, as we +stood for a moment in the outside doorway. + +He had already telephoned to our old friend Doctor Leslie, the +coroner, to take charge of the case, and now was ready to leave. +The news had spread, and the janitor of the building was waiting +to lock the campus door to keep back the crowd of students and +others. + +Our next duty was the painful one of breaking the news to Mrs. +Northrop. I shall pass it over. Perhaps no one could have done it +more gently than Kennedy. She did not cry. She was simply dazed. +Fortunately her mother was with her, had been, in fact, ever since +Northrop had gone on the expedition. + +"Why should anyone want to steal tablets of old Mixtec +inscriptions?" I asked thoughtfully, as we walked sadly over the +campus in the direction of the chemistry building. "Have they a +sufficient value, even on appreciative Fifth Avenue, to warrant +murder?" + +"Well," he remarked, "it does seem incomprehensible. Yet people do +just such things. The psychologists tell us that there is a +veritable mania for possessing such curios. However, it is +possible that there may be some deeper significance in this case," +he added, his face puckered in thought. + +Who was the mysterious Mexican woman, who the shaggy Russian? I +asked myself. Clearly, at least, if she existed at all, she was +one of the millions not of Spanish but of Indian descent in the +country south of us. As I reasoned it out, it seemed to me as if +she must have been an accomplice. She could not have got into +Northrop's room either before or after Doctor Bernardo left. Then, +too, the toe-and shoe-prints were not hers. But, I figured, she +certainly had a part in the plot. + +While I was engaged in the vain effort to unravel the tragic +affair by pure reason, Kennedy was at work with practical science. + +He began by examining the little dark cylinder on the end of the +reed. On a piece of the stuff, broken off, he poured a dark liquid +from a brown-glass bottle. Then he placed it under a microscope. + +"Microscopically," he said slowly, "it consists almost wholly of +minute, clear granules which give a blue reaction with iodine. +They are starch. Mixed with them are some larger starch granules, +a few plant cells, fibrous matter, and other foreign particles. +And then, there is the substance that gives that acrid, numbing +taste." He appeared to be vacantly studying the floor. + +"What do you think it is?" I asked, unable to restrain myself. + +"Aconite," he answered slowly, "of which the active principle is +the deadly poisonous alkaloid, aconitin." + +He walked over and pulled down a well-thumbed standard work on +toxicology, turned the pages, then began to read aloud: + +Pure aconitin is probably the most actively poisonous substance +with which we are acquainted and, if administered hypodermically, +the alkaloid is even more powerfully poisonous than when taken by +the mouth. + +As in the case of most of the poisonous alkaloids, aconitin does +not produce any decidedly characteristic post-mortem appearances. +There is no way to distinguish it from other alkaloids, in fact, +no reliable chemical test. The physiological effects before death +are all that can be relied on. + +Owing to its exceeding toxic nature, the smallness of the dose +required to produce death, and the lack of tests for recognition, +aconitin possesses rather more interest in legal medicine than +most other poisons. + +It is one of the few substances which, in the present state of +toxicology, might be criminally administered and leave no positive +evidence of the crime. If a small but fatal dose of the poison +were to be given, especially if it were administered +hypodermically, the chances of its detection in the body after +death would be practically none. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE "PILLAR OF DEATH" + + +I was looking at him fixedly as the diabolical nature of what must +have happened sank into my mind. Here was a poison that defied +detection. I could see by the look on Craig's face that that +problem, alone, was enough to absorb his attention. He seemed +fully to realize that we had to deal with a criminal so clever +that he might never be brought to justice. + +An idea flashed over me. + +"How about the letters?" I suggested. + +"Good, Walter!" he exclaimed. + +He untied the package which Mrs. Northrop had given him and +glanced quickly over one after another of the letters. + +"Ah!" he exclaimed, fairly devouring one dated at Mitla. "Listen-- +it tells about Northrop's work and goes on: + +"'I have been much interested in a cavern, or subterraneo, here, +in the shape of a cross, each arm of which extends for some twelve +feet underground. In the center it is guarded by a block of stone +popularly called "the Pillar of Death." There is a superstition +that whoever embraces it will die before the sun goes down. + +"'From the subterraneo is said to lead a long, underground passage +across the court to another subterranean chamber which is full of +Mixtec treasure. Treasure hunters have dug all around it, and it +is said that two old Indians, only, know of the immense amount of +buried gold and silver, but that they will not reveal it.'" + +I started up. Here was the missing link which I had been waiting +for. + +"There, at least, is the motive," I blurted out. "That is why +Bernardo was so reticent. Northrop, in his innocence of heart, had +showed him that inscription." + +Kennedy said nothing as he finally tied up the little packet of +letters and locked it in his safe. He was not given to hasty +generalizations; neither was he one who clung doggedly to a +preconceived theory. + +It was still early in the afternoon. Craig and I decided to drop +into the museum again in order to see Doctor Bernardo. He was not +there and we sat down to wait. + +Just then the letter box in the door clicked. It was the postman +on his rounds. Kennedy walked over and picked up the letter. + +The postmark bore the words, "Mexico City," and a date somewhat +later than that on which Northrop had left Vera Cruz. In the lower +corner, underscored, were the words, "Personal--Urgent." + +"I'd like to know what is in that," remarked Craig, turning it +over and over. + +He appeared to be considering something, for he rose suddenly and +shoved the letter into his pocket. + +I followed, and a few moments later, across the campus in his +laboratory, he was working quickly over an X-ray apparatus. He had +placed the letter in it. + +"These are what are known as 'low' tubes," he explained. "They +give out 'soft rays.'" He continued to work for a few moments, +then handed me the letter. + +"Now, Walter," he said, "if you will just hurry back to the museum +and replace that letter, I think I will have something that will +astonish you--though whether it will have any bearing on the case, +remains to be seen." + +"What is it?" I asked, a few minutes later, when I had rejoined +him, after returning the letter. He was poring intently over what +looked like a negative. + +"The possibility of reading the contents of documents inclosed in +a sealed envelope," he replied, still studying the shadowgraph +closely, "has already been established by the well-known English +scientist, Doctor Hall Edwards. He has been experimenting with the +method of using X-rays recently discovered by a German scientist, +by which radiographs of very thin substances, such as a sheet of +paper, a leaf, an insect's body, may be obtained. These thin +substances through which the rays used formerly to pass without +leaving an impression, can now be radiographed." + +I looked carefully as he traced out something on the negative. On +it was easily possible, following his guidance, to read the words +inscribed on the sheet of paper inside. So admirably defined were +all the details that even the gum on the envelope and the edges of +the sheet of paper inside the envelope could be distinguished. + +"Any letter written with ink having a mineral basis can be +radiographed," added Craig. "Even when the sheet is folded in the +usual way, it is possible by taking a radiograph stereoscopically, +to distinguish the writing, every detail standing out in relief. +Besides, it can be greatly magnified, which aids in deciphering it +if it is indistinct or jumbled up. Some of it looks like mirror +writing. Ah," he added, "here's something interesting!" + +Together we managed to trace out the contents of several +paragraphs, of which the significant parts were as follows: + + I am expecting that my friend Senora Herreria will be in New York +by the time you receive this, and should she call on you, I know +you will accord her every courtesy. She has been in Mexico City +for a few days, having just returned from Mitla, where she met +Professor Northrop. It is rumored that Professor Northrop has +succeeded in smuggling out of the country a very important stone +bearing an inscription which, I understand, is of more than +ordinary interest. I do not know anything definite about it, as +Senora Herreria is very reticent on the matter, but depend on you +to find out if possible and let me know of it. + +According to the rumors and the statements of the senora, it seems +that Northrop has taken an unfair advantage of the situation down +in Oaxaca, and I suppose she and others who know about the +inscription feel that it is really the possession of the +government. + +You will find that the senora is an accomplished antiquarian and +scholar. Like many others down here just now, she has a high +regard for the Japanese. As you know, there exists a natural +sympathy between some Mexicans and Japanese, owing to what is +believed to be a common origin of the two races. + +In spite of the assertions of many to the contrary, there is +little doubt left in the minds of students that the Indian races +which have peopled Mexico were of Mongolian stock. Many words in +some dialects are easily understood by Chinese immigrants. A +secretary of the Japanese legation here was able recently to +decipher old Mixtec inscriptions found in the ruins of Mitla. + +Senora Herreria has been much interested in establishing the +relationship and, I understand, is acquainted with a Japanese +curio dealer in New York who recently visited Mexico for the same +purpose. I believe that she wishes to collaborate with him on a +monograph on the subject, which is expected to have a powerful +effect on the public opinion both here and at Tokyo. + +In regard to the inscription which Northrop has taken with him, I +rely on you to keep me informed. There seems to be a great deal of +mystery connected with it, and I am simply hazarding a guess as to +its nature. If it should prove to be something which might +interest either the Japanese or ourselves, you can see how +important it may be, especially in view of the forthcoming mission +of General Francisco to Tokyo. + +Very sincerely yours, + +DR. EMILIO SANCHEZ, Director. + +"Bernardo is a Mexican," I exclaimed, as Kennedy finished reading, +"and there can be no doubt that the woman he mentioned was this +Senora Herreria." + +Kennedy said nothing, but seemed to be weighing the various +paragraphs in the letter. + +"Still," I observed, "so far, the only one against whom we have +any direct suspicion in the case is the shaggy Russian, whoever he +is." + +"A man whom Bernardo says looked like a Russian," corrected Craig. + +He was pacing the laboratory restlessly. + +"This is becoming quite an international affair," he remarked +finally, pausing before me, his hat on. "Would you like to relax +your mind by a little excursion among the curio shops of the city? +I know something about Japanese curios--more, perhaps, than I do +of Mexican. It may amuse us, even if it doesn't help in solving +the mystery. Meanwhile, I shall make arrangements for shadowing +Bernardo. I want to know just how he acts after he reads that +letter." + +He paused long enough to telephone his instructions to an uptown +detective agency which could be depended on for such mere routine +work, then joined me with the significant remark: "Blood is +thicker than water, anyhow, Walter. Still, even if the Mexicans +are influenced by sentiment, I hardly think that would account for +the interest of our friends from across the water in the matter." + +I do not know how many of the large and small curio shops of the +city we visited that afternoon. At another time, I should have +enjoyed the visits immensely, for anyone seeking articles of +beauty will find the antique shops of Fifth and Fourth Avenues and +the side streets well worth visiting. + +We came, at length, to one, a small, quaint, dusty rookery, down +in a basement, entered almost directly from the street. It bore +over the door a little gilt sign which read simply, "Sato's." + +As we entered, I could not help being impressed by the wealth of +articles in beautiful cloisonne enamel, in mother-of-pearl, +lacquer, and champleve. There were beautiful little koros, or +incense burners, vases, and teapots. There were enamels incrusted, +translucent, and painted, works of the famous Namikawa, of Kyoto, +and Namikawa, of Tokyo. Satsuma vases, splendid and rare examples +of the potter's art, crowded gorgeously embroidered screens +depicting all sorts of brilliant scenes, among others the sacred +Fujiyama rising in the stately distance. Sato himself greeted us +with a ready smile and bow. + +"I am just looking for a few things to add to my den," explained +Kennedy, adding, "nothing in particular, but merely whatever +happens to strike my fancy." + +"Surely, then, you have come to the right shop," greeted Sato. "If +there is anything that interests you, I shall be glad to show it." + +"Thank you," replied Craig. "Don't let me trouble you with your +other customers. I will call on you if I see anything." + +For several minutes, Craig and I busied ourselves looking about, +and we did not have to feign interest, either. + +"Often things are not as represented," he whispered to me, after a +while, "but a connoiseur can tell spurious goods. These are the +real thing, mostly." + +"Not one in fifty can tell the difference," put in the voice of +Sato, at his elbow. + +"Well, you see I happen to know," Craig replied, not the least +disconcerted. "You can't always be too sure." + +A laugh and a shrug was Sato's answer. "It's well all are not so +keen," he said, with a frank acknowledgment that he was not above +sharp practices. + +I glanced now and then at the expressionless face of the curio +dealer. Was it merely the natural blankness of his countenance +that impressed me, or was there, in fact, something deep and dark +hidden in it, something of "East is East and West is West" which I +did not and could not understand? Craig was admiring the bronzes. +He had paused before one, a square metal fire-screen of odd +design, with the title on a card, "Japan Gazing at the World." + +It represented Japan as an eagle, with beak and talons of +burnished gold, resting on a rocky island about which great waves +dashed. The bird had an air of dignity and conscious pride in its +strength, as it looked out at the world, a globe revolving in +space. + +"Do you suppose there is anything significant in that?" I asked, +pointing to the continent of North America, also in gold and +prominently in view. + +"Ah, honorable sir," answered Sato, before Kennedy could reply, +"the artist intended by that to indicate Japan's friendliness for +America and America's greatness." + +He was inscrutable. It seemed as if he were watching our every +move, and yet it was done with a polite cordiality that could not +give offense. + +Behind some bronzes of the Japanese Hercules destroying the demons +and other mythical heroes was a large alcove, or tokonoma, +decorated with peacock, stork, and crane panels. Carvings and +lacquer added to the beauty of it. A miniature chrysanthemum +garden heightened the illusion. Carved hinoki wood framed the +panels, and the roof was supported by columns in the old Japanese +style, the whole being a compromise between the very simple and +quiet and the polychromatic. The dark woods, the lanterns, the +floor tiles of dark red, and the cushions of rich gold and yellow +were most alluring. It had the genuine fascination of the Orient. + +"Will the gentlemen drink a little sake?" Sato asked politely. + +Craig thanked him and said that we would. + +"Otaka!" Sato called. + +A peculiar, almost white-skinned attendant answered, and a moment +later produced four cups and poured out the rice brandy, taking +his own quietly, apart from us. I watched him drink, curiously. He +took the cup; then, with a long piece of carved wood, he dipped +into the sake, shaking a few drops on the floor to the four +quarters. Finally, with a deft sweep, he lifted his heavy mustache +with the piece of wood and drank off the draft almost without +taking breath. + +He was a peculiar man of middle height, with a shock of dark, +tough, woolly hair, well formed and not bad-looking, with a robust +general physique, as if his ancestors had been meat eaters. His +forehead was narrow and sloped backward; the cheekbones were +prominent; nose hooked, broad and wide, with strong nostrils; +mouth large, with thick lips, and not very prominent chin. His +eyes were perhaps the most noticeable feature. They were dark +gray, almost like those of a European. + +As Otaka withdrew with the empty cups, we rose to continue our +inspection of the wonders of the shop. There were ivories of all +descriptions. Here was a two-handled sword, with a very large +ivory handle, a weirdly carved scabbard, and wonderful steel +blade. By the expression of Craig's face, Sato knew that he had +made a sale. + +Craig had been rummaging among some warlike instruments which +Sato, with the instincts of a true salesman, was now displaying, +and had picked up a bow. It was short, very strong, and made of +pine wood. He held it horizontally and twanged the string. I +looked up in time to catch a pleased expression on the face of +Otaka. + +"Most people would have held it the other way," commented Sato. + +Craig said nothing, but was examining an arrow, almost twenty +inches long and thick, made of cane, with a point of metal very +sharp but badly fastened. He fingered the deep blood groove in the +scooplike head of the arrow and looked at it carefully. + +"I'll take that," he said, "only I wish it were one with the +regular reddish-brown lump in it." + +"Oh, but, honorable sir," apologized Sato, "the Japanese law +prohibits that, now. There are few of those, and they are very +valuable." + +"I suppose so," agreed Craig. "This will do, though. You have a +wonderful shop here, Sato. Some time, when I feel richer, I mean +to come in again. No, thank you, you need not send them; I'll +carry them." + +We bowed ourselves out, promising to come again when Sato received +a new consignment from the Orient which he was expecting. + +"That other Jap is a peculiar fellow," I observed, as we walked +along uptown again. + +"He isn't a Jap," remarked Craig. "He is an Ainu, one of the +aborigines who have been driven northward into the island of +Yezo." + +"An Ainu?" I repeated. + +"Yes. Generally thought, now, to be a white race and nearer of kin +to Europeans than Asiatics. The Japanese have pushed them +northward and are now trying to civilize them. They are a dirty, +hairy race, but when they are brought under civilizing influences +they adapt themselves to their environment and make very good +servants. Still, they are on about the lowest scale of humanity." + +"I thought Otaka was very mild," I commented. + +"They are a most inoffensive and peaceable people usually," he +answered, "good-natured and amenable to authority. But they become +dangerous when driven to despair by cruel treatment. The Japanese +government is very considerate of them--but not all Japanese are." + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE ARROW POISON + + +Far into the night Craig was engaged in some very delicate and +minute microscopic work in the laboratory. + +We were about to leave when there was a gentle tap on the door. +Kennedy opened it and admitted a young man, the operative of the +detective agency who had been shadowing Bernardo. His report was +very brief, but, to me at least, significant. Bernardo, on his +return to the museum, had evidently read the letter, which had +agitated him very much, for a few moments later he hurriedly left +and went downtown to the Prince Henry Hotel. The operative had +casually edged up to the desk and overheard whom he asked for. It +was Senora Herreria. Once again, later in the evening, he had +asked for her, but she was still out. + +It was quite early the next morning, when Kennedy had resumed his +careful microscopic work, that the telephone bell rang, and he +answered it mechanically. But a moment later a look of intense +surprise crossed his face. + +"It was from Doctor Leslie," he announced, hanging up the receiver +quickly. "He has a most peculiar case which he wants me to see--a +woman." + +Kennedy called a cab, and, at a furious pace, we dashed across the +city and down to the Metropolitan Hospital, where Doctor Leslie +was waiting. He met us eagerly and conducted us to a little room +where, lying motionless on a bed, was a woman. + +She was a striking-looking woman, dark of hair and skin, and in +life she must have been sensuously attractive. But now her face +was drawn and contorted--with the same ghastly look that had been +on the face of Northrop. + +"She died in a cab," explained Doctor Leslie, "before they could +get her to the hospital. At first they suspected the cab driver. +But he seems to have proved his innocence. He picked her up last +night on Fifth Avenue, reeling--thought she was intoxicated. And, +in fact, he seems to have been right. Our tests have shown a great +deal of alcohol present, but nothing like enough to have had such +a serious effect." + +"She told nothing of herself?" asked Kennedy. + +"No; she was pretty far gone when the cabby answered her signal. +All he could get out of her was a word that sounded like 'Curio- +curio.' He says she seemed to complain of something about her +mouth and head. Her face was drawn and shrunken; her hands were +cold and clammy, and then convulsions came on. He called an +ambulance, but she was past saving when it arrived. The numbness +seemed to have extended over all her body; swallowing was +impossible; there was entire loss of her voice as well as sight, +and death took place by syncope." + +"Have you any clue to the cause of her death?" asked Craig. + +"Well, it might have been some trouble with her heart, I suppose," +remarked Doctor Leslie tentatively. + +"Oh, she looks strong that way. No, hardly anything organic." + +"Well, then I thought she looked like a Mexican," went on Doctor +Leslie. "It might be some new tropical disease. I confess I don't +know. The fact is," he added, lowering his voice, "I had my own +theory about it until a few moments ago. That was why I called +you." + +"What do you mean?" asked Craig, evidently bent on testing his own +theory by the other's ignorance. + +Doctor Leslie made no answer immediately, but raised the sheet +which covered her body and disclosed, in the fleshy part of the +upper arm, a curious little red swollen mark with a couple of +drops of darkened blood. + +"I thought at first," he added, "that we had at last a genuine +'poisoned needle' case. You see, that looked like it. But I have +made all the tests for curare and strychnin without results." + +At the mere suggestion, a procession of hypodermic-needle and +white-slavery stories flashed before me. + +"But," objected Kennedy, "clearly this was not a case of +kidnaping. It is a case of murder. Have you tested for the +ordinary poisons?" + +Doctor Leslie shook his head. "There was no poison," he said, +"absolutely none that any of our tests could discover." + +Kennedy bent over and squeezed out a few drops of liquid from the +wound on a microscope slide, and covered them. + +"You have not identified her yet," he added, looking up. "I think +you will find, Leslie, that there is a Senora Herreria registered +at the Prince Henry who is missing, and that this woman will agree +with the description of her. Anyhow, I wish you would look it up +and let me know." + +Half an hour later, Kennedy was preparing to continue his studies +with the microscope when Doctor Bernardo entered. He seemed most +solicitous to know what progress was being made on the case, and, +although Kennedy did not tell much, still he did not discourage +conversation on the subject. + +When we came in the night before, Craig had unwrapped and tossed +down the Japanese sword and the Ainu bow and arrow on a table, and +it was not long before they attracted Bernardo's attention. + +"I see you are a collector yourself," he ventured, picking them +up. + +"Yes," answered Craig, offhand; "I picked them up yesterday at +Sato's. You know the place?" + +"Oh, yes, I know Sato," answered the curator, seemingly without +the slightest hesitation. "He has been in Mexico--is quite a +student." + +"And the other man, Otaka?" + +"Other man--Otaka? You mean his wife?" + +I saw Kennedy check a motion of surprise and came to the rescue +with the natural question: "His wife--with a beard and mustache?" + +It was Bernardo's turn to be surprised. He looked at me a moment, +then saw that I meant it, and suddenly his face lighted up. + +"Oh," he exclaimed, "that must have been on account of the +immigration laws or something of the sort. Otaka is his wife. The +Ainus are much sought after by the Japanese as wives. The women, +you know, have a custom of tattooing mustaches on themselves. It +is hideous, but they think it is beautiful." + +"I know," I pursued, watching Kennedy's interest in our +conversation, "but this was not tattooed." + +"Well, then, it must have been false," insisted Bernardo. + +The curator chatted a few moments, during which I expected Kennedy +to lead the conversation around to Senora Herreria. But he did +not, evidently fearing to show his hand. + +"What did you make of it?" I asked, when he had gone. "Is he +trying to hide something?" + +"I think he has simplified the case," remarked Craig, leaning +back, his hands behind his head, gazing up at the ceiling. "Hello, +here's Leslie! What did you find, Doctor?" The coroner had entered +with a look of awe on his face, as if Kennedy had directed him by +some sort of necromancy. + +"It was Senora Herreria!" he exclaimed. "She has been missing from +the hotel ever since late yesterday afternoon. What do you think +of it?" + +"I think," replied Kennedy, speaking slowly and deliberately, +"that it is very much like the Northrop case. You haven't taken +that up yet?" + +"Only superficially. What do you make of it?" asked the coroner. + +"I had an idea that it might be aconitin poisoning," he said. + +Leslie glanced at him keenly for a moment. "Then you'll never +prove anything in the laboratory," he said. + +"There are more ways of catching a criminal, Leslie," put in +Craig, "than are set down in the medico-legal text-books. I shall +depend on you and Jameson to gather together a rather cosmopolitan +crowd here to-night." + +He said it with a quiet confidence which I could not gainsay, +although I did not understand. However, mostly with the official +aid of Doctor Leslie, I followed out his instructions, and it was +indeed a strange party that assembled that night. There were +Doctor Bernardo; Sato, the curio dealer; Otaka, the Ainu, and +ourselves. Mrs. Northrop, of course, could not come. + +"Mexico," began Craig, after he had said a few words explaining +why he had brought us together, "is full of historical treasure. +To all intents and purposes, the government says, 'Come and dig.' +But when there are finds, then the government swoops down on them +for its own national museum. The finder scarcely gets a chance to +export them. However, now seemed to be the time to Professor +Northrop to smuggle his finds out of the country. + +"But evidently it could not be done without exciting all kinds of +rumors and suspicions. Stories seem to have spread far and fast +about what he had discovered. He realized the unsettled condition +of the country--perhaps wanted to confirm his reading of a certain +inscription by consultation with one scholar whom he thought he +could trust. At any rate, he came home." + +Kennedy paused, making use of the silence for emphasis. "You have +all read of the wealth that Cortez found in Mexico. Where are the +gold and silver of the conquistadores? Gone to the melting pot, +centuries ago. But is there none left? The Indians believe so. +There are persons who would stop at nothing--even at murder of +American professors, murder of their own comrades, to get at the +secret." + +He laid his hand almost lovingly on his powerful little microscope +as he resumed on another line of evidence. + +"And while we are on the subject of murders, two very similar +deaths have occurred," he went on. "It is of no use to try to +gloss them over. Frankly, I suspected that they might have been +caused by aconite poisoning. But, in the case of such poisoning, +not only is the lethal dose very small but our chemical methods of +detection are nil. The dose of the active principle, aconitin +nitrate, is about one six-hundredth of a grain. There are no color +tests, no reactions, as in the case of the other organic poisons." + +I wondered what he was driving at. Was there, indeed, no test? Had +the murderer used the safest of poisons--one that left no clue? I +looked covertly at Sato's face. It was impassive. Doctor Bernardo +was visibly uneasy as Kennedy proceeded. Cool enough up to the +time of the mention of the treasure, I fancied, now, that he was +growing more and more nervous. + +Craig laid down on the table the reed stick with the little +darkened cylinder on the end. + +"That," he said, "is a little article which I picked up beneath +Northrop's window yesterday. It is a piece of anno-noki, or +bushi." I fancied I saw just a glint of satisfaction in Otaka's +eyes. + +"Like many barbarians," continued Craig, "the Ainus from time +immemorial have prepared virulent poisons with which they charged +their weapons of the chase and warfare. The formulas for the +preparations, as in the case of other arrow poisons of other +tribes, are known only to certain members, and the secret is +passed down from generation to generation as an heirloom, as it +were. But in this case it is no longer a secret. It has now been +proved that the active principle of this poison is aconite." + +"If that is the case," broke in Doctor Leslie, "it is hopeless to +connect anyone directly in that way with these murders. There is +no test for aconitin." + +I thought Sato's face was more composed and impassive than ever. +Doctor Bernardo, however, was plainly excited. + +"What--no test--NONE?" asked Kennedy, leaning forward eagerly. +Then, as if he could restrain the answer to his own question no +longer, he shot out: "How about the new starch test just +discovered by Professor Reichert, of the University of +Pennsylvania? Doubtless you never dreamed that starch may be a +means of detecting the nature of a poison in obscure cases in +criminology, especially in cases where the quantity of poison +necessary to cause death is so minute that no trace of it can be +found in the blood. + +"The starch method is a new and extremely inviting subject to me. +The peculiarities of the starch of any plant are quite as +distinctive of the plant as are those of the hemoglobin crystals +in the blood of an animal. I have analyzed the evidence of my +microscope in this case thoroughly. When the arrow poison is +introduced subcutaneously--say, by a person shooting a poisoned +dart, which he afterward removes in order to destroy the evidence- +-the lethal constituents are rapidly absorbed. + +"But the starch remains in the wound. It can be recovered and +studied microscopically and can be definitely recognized. Doctor +Reichert has published a study of twelve hundred such starches +from all sorts of plants. In this case, it not only proves to be +aconitin but the starch granules themselves can be recognized. +They came from this piece of arrow poison." + +Every eye was fixed on him now. + +"Besides," he rapped out, "in the soft soil beneath the window of +Professor Northrop's room, I found footprints. I have only to +compare the impressions I took there and those of the people in +this room, to prove that, while the real murderer stood guard +below the window, he sent some one more nimble up the rain pipe to +shoot the poisoned dart at Professor Northrop, and, later, to let +down a rope by which he, the instigator, could gain the room, +remove the dart, and obtain the key to the treasure he sought." + +Kennedy was looking straight at Professor Bernardo. + +"A friend of mine in Mexico has written me about an inscription," +he burst out. "I received the letter only to-day. As nearly as I +can gather, there was an impression that some of Northrop's stuff +would be valuable in proving the alleged kinship between Mexico +and Japan, perhaps to arouse hatred of the United States." + +"Yes--that is all very well," insisted Kennedy. "But how about the +treasure?" + +"Treasure?" repeated Bernardo, looking from one of us to another. + +"Yes," pursued Craig relentlessly, "the treasure. You are an +expert in reading the hieroglyphics. By your own statement, you +and Northrop had been going over the stuff he had sent up. You +know it." + +Bernardo gave a quick glance from Kennedy to me. Evidently he saw +that the secret was out. + +"Yes," he said huskily, in a low tone, "Northrop and I were to +follow the directions after we had plotted them out and were to +share it together on the next expedition, which I could direct as +a Mexican without so much suspicion. I should still have shared it +with his widow if this unfortunate affair had not exposed the +secret." + +Bernardo had risen earnestly. + +"Kennedy," he cried, "before God, if you will get back that stone +and keep the secret from going further than this room, I will +prove what I have said by dividing the Mixtec treasure with Mrs. +Northrop and making her one of the richest widows in the country!" + +"That is what I wanted to be sure of," nodded Craig. "Bernardo, +Senora Herreria, of whom your friend wrote to you from Mexico, has +been murdered in the same way that Professor Northrop was. Otaka +was sent by her husband to murder Northrop, in order that they +might obtain the so-called 'Pillar of Death' and the key to the +treasure. Then, when the senora was no doubt under the influence +of sake in the pretty little Oriental bower at the curio shop, a +quick jab, and Otaka had removed one who shared the secret with +them." + +He had turned and faced the pair. + +"Sato," he added, "you played on the patriotism of the senora +until you wormed from her the treasure secret. Evidently rumors of +it had spread from Mexican Indians to Japanese visitors. And then, +Otaka, all jealousy over one whom she, no doubt, justly considered +a rival, completed your work by sending her forth to die, unknown, +on the street. Walter, ring up First Deputy O'Connor. The stone is +hidden somewhere in the curio shop. We can find it without Sato's +help. The quicker such a criminal is lodged safely in jail, the +better for humanity." + +Sato was on his feet, advancing cautiously toward Craig. I knew +the dangers, now, of anno-noki, as well as the wonders of jujutsu, +and, with a leap, I bounded past Bernardo and between Sato and +Kennedy. + +How it happened, I don't know, but, an instant later, I was +sprawling. + +Before I could recover myself, before even Craig had a chance to +pull the hair-trigger of his automatic, Sato had seized the Ainu +arrow poison from the table, had bitten the little cylinder in +half, and had crammed the other half into the mouth of Otaka. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE RADIUM ROBBER + + +Kennedy simply reached for the telephone and called an ambulance. +But it was purely perfunctory. Dr. Leslie himself was the only +official who could handle Sato's case now. + +We had planned a little vacation for ourselves, but the planning +came to naught. The next night we spent on a sleeper. That in +itself is work to me. + +It all came about through a hurried message from Murray Denison, +president of the Federal Radium Corporation. Nothing would do but +that he should take both Kennedy and myself with him post-haste to +Pittsburgh at the first news of what had immediately been called +"the great radium robbery." + +Of course the newspapers were full of it. The very novelty of an +ultra-modern cracksman going off with something worth upward of a +couple of hundred thousand dollars--and all contained in a few +platinum tubes which could be tucked away in a vest pocket--had +something about it powerfully appealing to the imagination. + +"Most ingenious, but, you see, the trouble with that safe is that +it was built to keep radium IN--not cracksmen OUT," remarked +Kennedy, when Denison had rushed us from the train to take a look +at the little safe in the works of the Corporation. + +"Breaking into such a safe as this," added Kennedy, after a +cursory examination, "is simple enough, after all." + +It was, however, a remarkably ingenious contrivance, about three +feet in height and of a weight of perhaps a ton and a half, and +all to house something weighing only a few grains. + +"But," Denison hastened to explain, "we had to protect the radium +not only against burglars, but, so to speak, against itself. +Radium emanations pass through steel and experiments have shown +that the best metal to contain them is lead. So, the difficulty +was solved by making a steel outer case enclosing an inside leaden +shell three inches thick." + +Kennedy had been toying thoughtfully with the door. + +"Then the door, too, had to be contrived so as to prevent any +escape of the emanations through joints. It is lathe turned and +circular, a 'dead fit.' By means of a special contrivance any +slight looseness caused by wear and tear of closing can be +adjusted. And another feature. That is the appliance for +preventing the loss of emanation when the door is opened. Two +valves have been inserted into the door and before it is opened +tubes with mercury are passed through which collect and store the +emanation." + +"All very nice for the radium," remarked Craig cheerfully. "But +the fellow had only to use an electric drill and the gram or more +of radium was his." + +"I know that--now," ruefully persisted Denison. "But the safe was +designed for us specially. The fellow got into it and got away, as +far as I can see, without leaving a clue." + +"Except one, of course," interrupted Kennedy quickly. + +Denison looked at him a moment keenly, then nodded and said, "Yes- +-you are right. You mean one which he must bear on himself?" + +"Exactly. You can't carry a gram or more of radium bromide long +with impunity. The man to look for is one who in a few days will +have somewhere on his body a radium burn which will take months to +heal. The very thing he stole is a veritable Frankenstein's +monster bent on the destruction of the thief himself!" + +Kennedy had meanwhile picked up one of the Corporation's circulars +lying on a desk. He ran his eye down the list of names. + +"So, Hartley Haughton, the broker, is one of your stockholders," +mused Kennedy. + +"Not only one but THE one," replied Denison with obvious pride. + +Haughton was a young man who had come recently into his fortune, +and, while no one believed it to be large, he had cut quite a +figure in Wall Street. + +"You know, I suppose," added Denison, "that he is engaged to +Felicie Woods, the daughter of Mrs. Courtney Woods?" + +Kennedy did not, but said nothing. + +"A most delightful little girl," continued Denison thoughtfully. +"I have known Mrs. Woods for some time. She wanted to invest, but +I told her frankly that this is, after all, a speculation. We may +not be able to swing so big a proposition, but, if not, no one can +say we have taken a dollar of money from widows and orphans." + +"I should like to see the works," nodded Kennedy approvingly. + +"By all means." + +The plant was a row of long low buildings of brick on the +outskirts of the city, once devoted to the making of vanadium +steel. The ore, as Denison explained, was brought to Pittsburgh +because he had found here already a factory which could readily be +turned into a plant for the extraction of radium. Huge baths and +vats and crucibles for the various acids and alkalis and other +processes used in treating the ore stood at various points. + +"This must be like extracting gold from sea water," remarked +Kennedy jocosely, impressed by the size of the plant as compared +to the product. + +"Except that after we get through we have something infinitely +more precious than gold," replied Denison, "something which +warrants the trouble and outlay. Yes, the fact is that the +percentage of radium in all such ores is even less than of gold in +sea water." + +"Everything seems to be most carefully guarded," remarked Kennedy +as we concluded our tour of the well-appointed works. + +He had gone over everything in silence, and now at last we had +returned to the safe. + +"Yes," he repeated slowly, as if confirming his original +impression, "such an amount of radium as was stolen wouldn't +occasion immediate discomfort to the thief, I suppose, but later +no infernal machine could be more dangerous to him." + +I pictured to myself the series of fearful works of mischief and +terror that might follow, a curse on the thief worse than that of +the weirdest curses of the Orient, the danger to the innocent, and +the fact that in the hands of a criminal it was an instrument for +committing crimes that might defy detection. + +"There is nothing more to do here now," he concluded. "I can see +nothing for the present except to go back to New York. The +telltale burn may not be the only clue, but if the thief is going +to profit by his spoils we shall hear about it best in New York or +by cable from London, Paris, or some other European city." + +Our hurried departure from New York had not given us a chance to +visit the offices of the Radium Corporation for the distribution +of the salts themselves. They were in a little old office building +on William Street, near the drug district and yet scarcely a +moment's walk from the financial district. + +"Our head bookkeeper, Miss Wallace, is ill," remarked Denison when +we arrived at the office, "but if there is anything I can do to +help you, I shall be glad to do it. We depend on Miss Wallace a +great deal. Haughton says she is the brains of the office." + +Kennedy looked about the well-appointed suite curiously. + +"Is this another of those radium safes?" he asked, approaching one +similar in appearance to that which had been broken open already. + +"Yes, only a little larger." + +"How much is in it?" + +"Most of our supply. I should say about two and a half grams. Miss +Wallace has the record." + +"It is of the same construction, I presume," pursued Kennedy. "I +wonder whether the lead lining fits closely to the steel?" + +"I think not," considered Denison. "As I remember there was a sort +of insulating air cushion or something of the sort." + +Denison was quite eager to show us about. In fact ever since he +had hustled us out to view the scene of the robbery, his high +nervous tension had given us scarcely a moment's rest. For hours +he had talked radium, until I felt that he, like his metal, must +have an inexhaustible emanation of words. He was one of those +nervous, active little men, a born salesman, whether of ribbons or +radium. + +"We have just gone into furnishing radium water," he went on, +bustling about and patting a little glass tank. + +I looked closely and could see that the water glowed in the dark +with a peculiar phosphorescence. + +"The apparatus for the treatment," he continued, "consists of two +glass and porcelain receptacles. Inside the larger receptacle is +placed the smaller, which contains a tiny quantity of radium. Into +the larger receptacle is poured about a gallon of filtered water. +The emanation from that little speck of radium is powerful enough +to penetrate its porcelain holder and charge the water with its +curative properties. From a tap at the bottom of the tank the +patient draws the number of glasses of water a day prescribed. For +such purposes the emanation within a day or two of being collected +is as good as radium itself. Why, this water is five thousand +times as radioactive as the most radioactive natural spring +water." + +"You must have control of a comparatively large amount of the +metal," suggested Kennedy. + +"We are, I believe, the largest holders of radium in the world," +he answered. "I have estimated that all told there are not much +more than ten grams, of which Madame Curie has perhaps three, +while Sir Ernest Cassel of London is the holder of perhaps as +much. We have nearly four grams, leaving about six or seven for +the rest of the world." + +Kennedy nodded and continued to look about. + +"The Radium Corporation," went on Denison, "has several large +deposits of radioactive ore in Utah in what is known as the Poor +Little Rich Valley, a valley so named because from being about the +barrenest and most unproductive mineral or agricultural hole in +the hills, the sudden discovery of the radioactive deposits has +made it almost priceless." + +He had entered a private office and was looking over some mail +that had been left on his desk during his absence. + +"Look at this," he called, picking up a clipping from a newspaper +which had been laid there for his attention. "You see, we have +them aroused." + +We read the clipping together hastily: + +PLAN TO CORNER WORLD'S RADIUM + +LONDON.--Plans are being matured to form a large corporation for +the monopoly of the existing and future supply of radium +throughout the world. The company is to be called Universal +Radium, Limited, and the capital of ten million dollars will be +offered for public subscription at par simultaneously in London, +Paris and New York. + +The company's business will be to acquire mines and deposits of +radioactive substances as well as the control of patents and +processes connected with the production of radium. The outspoken +purpose of the new company is to obtain a world-wide monopoly and +maintain the price. + + "Ah--a competitor," commented Kennedy, handing back the clipping. + +"Yes. You know radium salts used always to come from Europe. Now +we are getting ready to do some exporting ourselves. Say," he +added excitedly, "there's an idea, possibly, in that." + +"How?" queried Craig. + +"Why, since we should be the principal competitors to the foreign +mines, couldn't this robbery have been due to the machinations of +these schemers? To my mind, the United States, because of its +supply of radium-bearing ores, will have to be reckoned with first +in cornering the market. This is the point, Kennedy. Would those +people who seem to be trying to extend their new company all over +the world stop at anything in order to cripple us at the start?" + +How much longer Denison would have rattled on in his effort to +explain the robbery, I do not know. The telephone rang and a +reporter from the Record, who had just read my own story in the +Star, asked for an interview. I knew that it would be only a +question of minutes now before the other men were wearing a path +out on the stairs, and we managed to get away before the onrush +began. + +"Walter," said Kennedy, as soon as we had reached the street. "I +want to get in touch with Halsey Haughton. How can it be done?" + +I could think of nothing better at that moment than to inquire at +the Star's Wall Street office, which happened to be around the +corner. I knew the men down there intimately, and a few minutes +later we were whisked up in the elevator to the office. + +They were as glad to see me as I was to see them, for the story of +the robbery had interested the financial district perhaps more +than any other. + +"Where can I find Halsey Haughton at this hour?" I asked. + +"Say," exclaimed one of the men, "what's the matter? There have +been all kinds of rumors in the Street about him to-day. Did you +know he was ill?" + +"No," I answered. "Where is he?" + +"Out at the home of his fiancee, who is the daughter of Mrs. +Courtney Woods, at Glenclair." + +"What's the matter?" I persisted. + +"That's just it. No one seems to know. They say--well--they say he +has a cancer." + +Halsey Haughton suffering from cancer? It was such an uncommon +thing to hear of a young man that I looked up quickly in surprise. +Then all at once it flashed over me that Denison and Kennedy had +discussed the matter of burns from the stolen radium. Might not +this be, instead of cancer, a radium burn? + +Kennedy, who had been standing a little apart from me while I was +talking with the boys, signaled to me with a quick glance not to +say too much, and a few minutes later we were on the street again. + +I knew without being told that he was bound by the next train to +the pretty little New Jersey suburb of Glenclair. + +It was late when we arrived, yet Kennedy had no hesitation in +calling at the quaint home of Mrs. Courtney Woods on Woodridge +Avenue. + +Mrs. Woods, a well-set-up woman of middle age, who had retained +her youth and good looks in a remarkable manner, met us in the +foyer. Briefly, Kennedy explained that we had just come in from +Pittsburgh with Mr. Denison and that it was very important that we +should see Haughton at once. + +We had hardly told her the object of our visit when a young woman +of perhaps twenty-two or three, a very pretty girl, with all the +good looks of her mother and a freshness which only youth can +possess, tiptoed quietly downstairs. Her face told plainly that +she was deeply worried over the illness of her fiance. + +"Who is it, mother?" she whispered from the turn in the stairs. +"Some gentlemen from the company? Hartley's door was open when the +bell rang, and he thought he heard something said about the +Pittsburgh affair." + +Though she had whispered, it had not been for the purpose of +concealing anything from us, but rather that the keen ears of her +patient might not catch the words. She cast an inquiring glance at +us. + +"Yes," responded Kennedy in answer to her look, modulating his +tone. "We have just left Mr. Denison at the office. Might we see +Mr. Haughton for a moment? I am sure that nothing we can say or do +will be as bad for him as our going away, now that he knows that +we are here." + +The two women appeared to consult for a moment. + +"Felicie," called a rather nervous voice from the second floor, +"is it some one from the company?" + +"Just a moment, Hartley," she answered, then, lower to her mother, +added, "I don't think it can do any harm, do you, mother?" + +"You remember the doctor's orders, my dear." + +Again the voice called her. + +"Hang the doctor's orders," the girl exclaimed, with an air of +almost masculinity. "It can't be half so bad as to have him worry. +Will you promise not to stay long? We expect Dr. Bryant in a few +moments, anyway." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE SPINTHARISCOPE + + +We followed her upstairs and into Haughton's room, where he was +lying in bed, propped up by pillows. Haughton certainly was ill. +There was no mistake about that. He was a tall, gaunt man with an +air about him that showed that he found illness very irksome. +Around his neck was a bandage, and some adhesive tape at the back +showed that a plaster of some sort had been placed there. + +As we entered his eyes traveled restlessly from the face of the +girl to our own in an inquiring manner. He stretched out a nervous +hand to us, while Kennedy in a few short sentences explained how +we had become associated with the case and what we had seen +already. + +"And there is not a clue?" he repeated as Craig finished. + +"Nothing tangible yet," reiterated Kennedy. "I suppose you have +heard of this rumor from London of a trust that is going into the +radium field internationally?" + +"Yes," he answered, "that is the thing you read to me in the +morning papers, you remember, Felicie. Denison and I have heard +such rumors before. If it is a fight, then we shall give them a +fight. They can't hold us up, if Denison is right in thinking that +they are at the bottom of this--this robbery." + +"Then you think he may be right?" shot out Kennedy quickly. + +Haughton glanced nervously from Kennedy to me. + +"Really," he answered, "you see how impossible it is for me to +have an opinion? You and Denison have been over the ground. You +know much more about it than I do. I am afraid I shall have to +defer to you." + +Again we heard the bell downstairs, and a moment later a cheery +voice, as Mrs. Woods met some one down in the foyer, asked, "How +is the patient to-night?" + +We could not catch the reply. + +"Dr. Bryant, my physician," put in Haughton. "Don't go. I will +assume the responsibility for your being here. Hello, Doctor. Why, +I'm much the same to-night, thank you. At least no worse since I +took your advice and went to bed." + +Dr. Bryant was a bluff, hearty man, with the personal magnetism +which goes with the making of a successful physician. He had +mounted the stairs quietly but rapidly, evidently prepared to see +us. + +"Would you mind waiting in this little dressing room?" asked the +doctor, motioning to another, smaller room adjoining. + +He had taken from his pocket a little instrument with a dial face +like a watch, which he attached to Haughton's wrist. "A pocket +instrument to measure blood pressure," whispered Craig, as we +entered the little room. + +While the others were gathered about Haughton, we stood in the +next room, out of earshot. Kennedy had leaned his elbow on a +chiffonier. As he looked about the little room, more from force of +habit than because he thought he might discover anything, +Kennedy's eye rested on a glass tray on the top in which lay some +pins, a collar button or two, which Haughton had apparently just +taken off, and several other little unimportant articles. + +Kennedy bent over to look at the glass tray more closely, a +puzzled look crossed his face, and with a glance at the other room +he gathered up the tray and its contents. + +"Keep up a good courage," said Dr. Bryant. "You'll come out all +right, Haughton." Then as he left the bedroom he added to us, +"Gentlemen, I hope you will pardon me, but if you could postpone +the remainder of your visit until a later day, I am sure you will +find it more satisfactory." + +There was an air of finality about the doctor, though nothing +unpleasant in it. We followed him down the stairs, and as we did +so, Felicie, who had been waiting in a reception room, appeared +before the portieres, her earnest eyes fixed on his kindly face. + +"Dr. Bryant," she appealed, "is he--is he, really--so badly?" + +The Doctor, who had apparently known her all her life, reached +down and took one of her hands, patting it with his own in a +fatherly way. "Don't worry, little girl," he encouraged. "We are +going to come out all right--all right." + +She turned from him to us and, with a bright forced smile which +showed the stuff she was made of, bade us good night. + +Outside, the Doctor, apparently regretting that he had virtually +forced us out, paused before his car. "Are you going down toward +the station? Yes? I am going that far. I should be glad to drive +you there." + +Kennedy climbed into the front seat, leaving me in the rear where +the wind wafted me their brief conversation as we sped down +Woodbridge Avenue. + +"What seems to be the trouble?" asked Craig. + +"Very high blood pressure, for one thing," replied the Doctor +frankly. + +"For which the latest thing is the radium water cure, I suppose?" +ventured Kennedy. + +"Well, radioactive water is one cure for hardening of the +arteries. But I didn't say he had hardening of the arteries. +Still, he is taking the water, with good results. You are from the +company?" + +Kennedy nodded. + +"It was the radium water that first interested him in it. Why, we +found a pressure of 230 pounds, which is frightful, and we have +brought it down to 150, not far from normal." + +"Still that could have nothing to do with the sore on his neck," +hazarded Kennedy. + +The Doctor looked at him quickly, then ahead at the path of light +which his motor shed on the road. + +He said nothing, but I fancied that even he felt there was +something strange in his silence over the new complication. He did +not give Kennedy a chance to ask whether there were any other such +sores. + +"At any rate," he said, as he throttled down his engine with a +flourish before the pretty little Glenclair station, "that girl +needn't worry." + +There was evidently no use in trying to extract anything further +from him. He had said all that medical ethics or detective skill +could get from him. We thanked him and turned to the ticket window +to see how long we should have to wait. + +"Either that doctor doesn't know what he is talking about or he is +concealing something," remarked Craig, as we paced up and down the +platform. "I am inclined to read the enigma in the latter way." + +Nothing more passed between us during the journey back, and we +hurried directly to the laboratory, late as it was. Kennedy had +evidently been revolving something over and over in his mind, for +the moment he had switched on the light, he unlocked one of his +air-and dust-proof cabinets and took from it an instrument which +he placed on a table before him. + +It was a peculiar-looking instrument, like a round glass electric +battery with a cylinder atop, smaller and sticking up like a +safety valve. On that were an arm, a dial, and a lens fixed in +such a way as to read the dial. I could not see what else the +rather complicated little apparatus consisted of, but inside, when +Kennedy brought near it the pole of a static electric machine two +delicate thin leaves of gold seemed to fly wide apart when it was +charged. + +Kennedy had brought the glass tray near the thing. Instantly the +leaves collapsed and he made a reading through the lens. + +"What is it?" I asked. + +"A radioscope," he replied, still observing the scale. "Really a +very sensitive gold leaf electroscope, devised by one of the +students of Madame Curie. This method of detection is far more +sensitive even than the spectroscope." + +"What does it mean when the leaves collapse?" I asked. + +"Radium has been near that tray," he answered. "It is radioactive. +I suspected it first when I saw that violet color. That is what +radium does to that kind of glass. You see, if radium exists in a +gram of inactive matter only to the extent of one in ten-thousand +million parts its presence can be readily detected by this +radioscope, and everything that has been rendered radioactive is +the same. Ordinarily the air between the gold leaves is +insulating. Bringing something radioactive near them renders the +air a good conductor and the leaves fall under the radiation." + +"Wonderful!" I exclaimed, marveling at the delicacy of it. + +"Take radium water," he went on, "sufficiently impregnated with +radium emanations to be luminous in the dark, like that water of +Denison's. It would do the same. In fact all mineral waters and +the so-called curarive muds like fango are slightly radioactive. +There seems to be a little radium everywhere on earth that +experiments have been made, even in the interiors of buildings. It +is ubiquitous. We are surrounded and permeated by radiations--that +soil out there on the campus, the air of this room, all. But," he +added contemplatively, "there is something different about that +tray. A lot of radium has been near that, and recently." + +"How about that bandage about Haughton's neck?" I asked suddenly. +"Do you think radium could have had anything to do with that?" +"Well, as to burns, there is no particular immediate effect +usually, and sometimes even up to two weeks or more, unless the +exposure has been long and to a considerable quantity. Of course +radium keeps itself three or four degrees warmer than other things +about it constantly. But that isn't what does the harm. It is +continually emitting little corpuscles, which I'll explain some +other time, traveling all the way from twenty to one hundred and +thirty thousand miles a second, and these corpuscles blister and +corrode the flesh like quick-moving missiles bombarding it. The +gravity of such lesions increases with the purity of the radium. +For instance I have known an exposure of half an hour to a +comparatively small quantity through a tube, a box and the clothes +to produce a blister fifteen days later. Curie said he wouldn't +trust himself in a room with a kilogram of it. It would destroy +his eyesight, burn off his skin and kill him eventually. Why, even +after a slight exposure your clothes are radioactive--the +electroscope will show that." + +He was still fumbling with the glass plate and the various +articles on it. + +"There's something very peculiar about all this," he muttered, +almost to himself. + +Tired by the quick succession of events of the past two days, I +left Kennedy still experimenting in his laboratory and retired, +still wondering when the real clue was to develop. Who could it +have been who bore the tell-tale burn? Was the mark hidden by the +bandage about Haughton's neck the brand of the stolen tubes? Or +were there other marks on his body which we could not see? + +No answer came to me, and I fell asleep and woke up without a +radiation of light on the subject. Kennedy spent the greater part +of the day still at work at his laboratory, performing some very +delicate experiments. Finding nothing to do there, I went down to +the Star office and spent my time reading the reports that came in +from the small army of reporters who had been assigned to run down +clues in the case which was the sensation of the moment. I have +always felt my own lips sealed in such cases, until the time came +that the story was complete and Kennedy released me from any +further need of silence. The weird and impossible stories which +came in not only to the Star but to the other papers surely did +make passable copy in this instance, but with my knowledge of the +case I could see that not one of them brought us a step nearer the +truth. + +One thing which uniformly puzzled the newspapers was the illness +of Haughton and his enforced idleness at a time which was of so +much importance to the company which he had promoted and indeed +very largely financed. Then, of course, there was the romantic +side of his engagement to Felicie Woods. + +Just what connection Felicie Woods had with the radium robbery if +any, I was myself unable quite to fathom. Still, that made no +difference to the papers. She was pretty and therefore they +published her picture, three columns deep, with Haughton and +Denison, who were intimately concerned with the real loss in +little ovals perhaps an inch across and two inches in the opposite +dimension. + +The late afternoon news editions had gone to press, and I had +given up in despair, determined to go up to the laboratory and sit +around idly watching Kennedy with his mystifying experiments, in +preference to waiting for him to summon me. + +I had scarcely arrived and settled myself to an impatient watch, +when an automobile drove up furiously, and Denison himself, very +excited, jumped out and dashed into the laboratory. + +"What's the matter?" asked Kennedy, looking up from a test tube +which he had been examining, with an air for all the world +expressive of "Why so hot, little man?" + +"I've had a threat," ejaculated Denison. + +He laid on one of the laboratory tables a letter, without heading +and without signature, written in a disguised hand, with an +evident attempt to simulate the cramped script of a foreign +penmanship. + +"I know who did the Pittsburgh job. The same party is out to ruin +Federal Radium. Remember Pittsburgh and be prepared! + +"A STOCKHOLDER." + +"Well?" demanded Kennedy, looking up. + +"That can have only one meaning," asserted Denison. + +"What is that?" inquired Kennedy coolly, as if to confirm his own +interpretation. + +"Why, another robbery--here in New York, of course." + +"But who would do it?" I asked. + +"Who?" repeated Denison. "Some one representing that European +combine, of course. That is only part of the Trust method--ruin of +competitors whom they cannot absorb." + +"Then you have refused to go into the combine? You know who is +backing it?" + +"No--no," admitted Denison reluctantly. "We have only signified +our intent to go it alone, as often as anyone either with or +without authority has offered to buy us out. No, I do not even +know who the people are. They never act in the open. The only +hints I have ever received were through perfectly reputable +brokers acting for others." + +"Does Haughton know of this note?" asked Kennedy. + +"Yes. As soon as I received it, I called him up." + +"What did he say?" + +"He said to disregard it. But--you know what condition he is in. I +don't know what to do, whether to surround the office by a squad +of detectives or remove the radium to a regular safety deposit +vault, even at the loss of the emanation. Haughton has left it to +me." + +Suddenly the thought flashed across my mind that perhaps Haughton +could act in this uninterested fashion because he had no fear of +ruin either way. Might he not be playing a game with the +combination in which he had protected himself so that he would +win, no matter what happened? + +"What shall I do?" asked Denison. "It is getting late." + +"Neither," decided Kennedy. + +Denison shook his head. "No," he said, "I shall have some one +watch there, anyhow." + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE ASPHYXIATING SAFE + + +Denison had scarcely gone to arrange for some one to watch the +office that night, when Kennedy, having gathered up his radioscope +and packed into a parcel a few other things from various cabinets, +announced: "Walter, I must see that Miss Wallace, right away. +Denison has already given me her address. Call a cab while I +finish clearing up here. I don't like the looks of this thing, +even if Haughton does neglect it." + +We found Miss Wallace at a modest boarding-house in an old but +still respectable part of the city. She was a very pretty girl, of +the slender type, rather a business woman than one given much to +amusement. She had been ill and was still ill. That was evident +from the solicitous way in which the motherly landlady scrutinized +two strange callers. + +Kennedy presented a card from Denison, and she came down to the +parlor to see us. + +"Miss Wallace," began Kennedy, "I know it is almost cruel to +trouble you when you are not feeling like office work, but since +the robbery of the safe at Pittsburgh, there have been threats of +a robbery of the New York office." + +She started involuntarily, and it was evident, I thought, that she +was in a very high-strung state. + +"Oh," she cried, "why, the loss means ruin to Mr. Denison!" + +There were genuine tears in her eyes as she said it. + +"I thought you would be willing to aid us," pursued Kennedy +sympathetically. "Now, for one thing, I want to be perfectly sure +just how much radium the Corporation owns, or rather owned before +the first robbery." + +"The books will show it," she said simply. + +"They will?" commented Kennedy. "Then if you will explain to me +briefly just the system you used in keeping account of it, perhaps +I need not trouble you any more." + +"I'll go down there with you," she answered bravely. "I'm better +to-day, anyhow, I think." + +She had risen, but it was evident that she was not as strong as +she wanted us to think. + +"The least I can do is to make it as easy as possible by going in +a car," remarked Kennedy, following her into the hall where there +was a telephone. + +The hallway was perfectly dark, yet as she preceded us I could see +that the diamond pin which held her collar in the back sparkled as +if a lighted candle had been brought near it. I had noticed in the +parlor that she wore a handsome tortoiseshell comb set with what I +thought were other brilliants, but when I looked I saw now that +there was not the same sparkle to the comb which held her dark +hair in a soft mass. I noticed these little things at the time, +not because I thought they had any importance, but merely by +chance, wondering at the sparkle of the one diamond which had +caught my eye. + +"What do you make of her?" I asked as Kennedy finished +telephoning. + +"A very charming and capable girl," he answered noncommittally. + +"Did you notice how that diamond in her neck sparkled?" I asked +quickly. + +He nodded. Evidently it had attracted his attention, too. + +"What makes it?" I pursued. + +"Well, you know radium rays will make a diamond fluoresce in the +dark." + +"Yes," I objected, "but how about those in the comb?" + +"Paste, probably," he answered tersely, as we heard her foot on +the landing. "The rays won't affect paste." + +It was indeed a shame to take advantage of Miss Wallace's loyalty +to Denison, but she was so game about it that I knew only the +utmost necessity on Kennedy's part would have prompted him to do +it. She had a key to the office so that it was not necessary to +wait for Denison, if indeed we could have found him. + +Together she and Kennedy went over the records. It seemed that +there were in the safe twenty-five platinum tubes of one hundred +milligrams each, and that there had been twelve of the same amount +at Pittsburgh. Little as it seemed in weight it represented a +fabulous fortune. + +"You have not the combination?" inquired Kennedy. + +"No. Only Mr. Denison has that. What are you going to do to +protect the safe to-night?" she asked. + +"Nothing especially," evaded Kennedy. + +"Nothing?" she repeated in amazement. + +"I have another plan," he said, watching her intently. "Miss +Wallace, it was too much to ask you to come down here. You are +ill." + +She was indeed quite pale, as if the excitement had been an +overexertion. + +"No, indeed," she persisted. Then, feeling her own weakness, she +moved toward the door of Denison's office where there was a +leather couch. "Let me rest here a moment. I do feel queer. I--" + +She would have fallen if he had not sprung forward and caught her +as she sank to the floor, overcome by the exertion. + +Together we carried her in to the couch, and as we did so the comb +from her hair clattered to the floor. + +Craig threw open the window, and bathed her face with water until +there was a faint flutter of the eyelids. + +"Walter," he said, as she began to revive, "I leave her to you. +Keep her quiet for a few moments. She has unintentionally given me +just the opportunity I want." + +While she was yet hovering between consciousness and +unconsciousness on the couch, he had unwrapped the package which +he had brought with him. For a moment he held the comb which she +had dropped near the radioscope. With a low exclamation of +surprise he shoved it into his pocket. + +Then from the package he drew a heavy piece of apparatus which +looked as if it might be the motor part of an electric fan, only +in place of the fan he fitted a long, slim, vicious-looking steel +bit. A flexible wire attached the thing to the electric light +circuit and I knew that it was an electric drill. With his coat +off he tugged at the little radium safe until he had moved it out, +then dropped on his knees behind it and switched the current on in +the electric drill. + +It was a tedious process to drill through the steel of the outer +casing of the safe and it was getting late. I shut the door to the +office so that Miss Wallace could not see. + +At last by the cessation of the low hum of the boring, I knew that +he had struck the inner lead lining. Quietly I opened the door and +stepped out. He was injecting something from an hermetically +sealed lead tube into the opening he had made and allowing it to +run between the two linings of lead and steel. Then using the tube +itself he sealed the opening he had made and dabbed a little black +over it. + +Quickly he shoved the safe back, then around it concealed several +small coils with wires also concealed and leading out through a +window to a court. + +"We'll catch the fellow this time," he remarked as he worked. "If +you ever have any idea, Walter, of going into the burglary +business, it would be well to ascertain if the safes have any of +these little selenium cells as suggested by my friend, Mr. Hammer, +the inventor. For by them an alarm can be given miles away the +moment an intruder's bull's-eye falls on a hidden cell sensitive +to light." + +While I was delegated to take Miss Wallace home, Kennedy made +arrangements with a small shopkeeper on the ground floor of a +building that backed up on the court for the use of his back room +that night, and had already set up a bell actuated by a system of +relays which the weak current from the selenium cells could +operate. + +It was not until nearly midnight that he was ready to leave the +laboratory again, where he had been busily engaged in studying the +tortoiseshell comb which Miss Wallace in her weakness had +forgotten. + +The little shopkeeper let us in sleepily and Kennedy deposited a +large round package on a chair in the back of the shop, as well as +a long piece of rubber tubing. Nothing had happened so far. + +As we waited the shopkeeper, now wide awake and not at all +unconvinced that we were bent on some criminal operation, hung +around. Kennedy did not seem to care. He drew from his pocket a +little shiny brass instrument in a lead case, which looked like an +abbreviated microscope. + +"Look through it," he said, handing it to me. + +I looked and could see thousands of minute sparks. + +"What is it?" I asked. + +"A spinthariscope. In that it is possible to watch the bombardment +of the countless little corpuscles thrown off by radium, as they +strike on the zinc blende crystal which forms the base. When +radium was originally discovered, the interest was merely in its +curious properties, its power to emit invisible rays which +penetrated solid substances and rendered things fluorescent, of +expending energy without apparent loss. + +"Then came the discovery," he went on, "of its curative powers. +But the first results were not convincing. Still, now that we know +the reasons why radium may be dangerous and how to protect +ourselves against them we know we possess one of the most +wonderful of curative agencies." + +I was thinking rather of the dangers than of the beneficence of +radium just now, but Kennedy continued. + +"It has cured many malignant growths that seemed hopeless, brought +back destroyed cells, exercised good effects in diseases of the +liver and intestines and even the baffling diseases of the +arteries. The reason why harm, at first, as well as good came, is +now understood. Radium emits, as I told you before, three kinds of +rays, the alpha, beta, and gamma rays, each with different +properties. The emanation is another matter. It does not concern +us in this case, as you will see." + +Fascinated as I was by the mystery of the case, I began to see +that he was gradually arriving at an explanation which had baffled +everyone else. + +"Now, the alpha rays are the shortest," he launched forth, "in +length let us say one inch. They exert a very destructive effect +on healthy tissue. That is the cause of injury. They are stopped +by glass, aluminum and other metals, and are really particles +charged with positive electricity. The beta rays come next, say, +about an inch and a half. They stimulate cell growth. Therefore +they are dangerous in cancer, though good in other ways. They can +be stopped by lead, and are really particles charged with negative +electricity. The gamma rays are the longest, perhaps three inches +long, and it is these rays which effect cures, for they check the +abnormal and stimulate the normal cells. They penetrate lead. Lead +seems to filter them out from the other rays. And at three inches +the other rays don't reach, anyhow. The gamma rays are not charged +with electricity at all, apparently." + +He had brought a little magnet near the spinthariscope. I looked +into it. + +"A magnet," he explained, "shows the difference between the alpha, +beta, and gamma rays. You see those weak and wobbly rays that seem +to fall to one side? Those are the alpha rays. They have a strong +action, though, on tissues and cells. Those falling in the other +direction are the beta rays. The gamma rays seem to flow +straight." + +"Then it is the alpha rays with which we are concerned mostly +now?" I queried, looking up. + +"Exactly. That is why, when radium is unprotected or +insufficiently protected and comes too near, it is destructive of +healthy cells, produces burns, sores, which are most difficult to +heal. It is with the explanation of such sores that we must deal." + +It was growing late. We had waited patiently now for some time. +Kennedy had evidently reserved this explanation, knowing we should +have to wait. Still nothing happened. + +Added to the mystery of the violet-colored glass plate was now +that of the luminescent diamond. I was about to ask Kennedy point- +blank what he thought of them, when suddenly the little bell +before us began to buzz feebly under the influence of a current. + +I gave a start. The faithful little selenium cell burglar alarm +had done the trick. I knew that selenium was a good conductor of +electricity in the light, poor in the dark. Some one had, +therefore, flashed a light on one of the cells in the Corporation +office. It was the moment for which Kennedy had prepared. + +Seizing the round package and the tubing, he dashed out on the +street and around the corner. He tried the door opening into the +Radium Corporation hallway. It was closed, but unlocked. As it +yielded and we stumbled in, up the old worn wooden stairs of the +building, I knew that there must be some one there. + +A terrific, penetrating, almost stunning odor seemed to permeate +the air even in the hall. + +Kennedy paused at the door of the office, tried it, found it +unlocked, but did not open it. + +"That smell is ethyldichloracetate," he explained. "That was what +I injected into the air cushion of that safe between the two +linings. I suppose my man here used an electric drill. He might +have used thermit or an oxyacetylene blowpipe for all I would +care. These fumes would discourage a cracksman from 'soup' to +nuts," he laughed, thoroughly pleased at the protection modern +science had enabled him to devise. + +As we stood an instant by the door, I realized what had happened. +We had captured our man. He was asphyxiated! + +Yet how were we to get to him? Would Craig leave him in there, +perhaps to die? To go in ourselves meant to share his fate, +whatever might be the effect of the drug. + +Kennedy had torn the wrapping off the package. From it he drew a +huge globe with bulging windows of glass in the front and several +curious arrangements on it at other points. To it he fitted the +rubber tubing and a little pump. Then he placed the globe over his +head, like a diver's helmet, and fastened some air-tight rubber +arrangement about his neck and shoulders. + +"Pump, Walter I" he shouted. "This is an oxygen helmet such as is +used in entering mines filled with deadly gases." + +Without another word he was gone into the blackness of the noxious +stifle which filled the Radium Corporation office since the +cracksman had struck the unexpected pocket of rapidly evaporating +stuff. + +I pumped furiously. + +Inside I could hear him blundering around. What was he doing? + +He was coming back slowly. Was he, too, overcome? + +As he emerged into the darkness of the hallway where I myself was +almost sickened, I saw that he was dragging with him a limp form. + +A rush of outside air from the street door seemed to clear things +a little. Kennedy tore off the oxygen helmet and dropped down on +his knees beside the figure, working its arms in the most approved +manner of resuscitation. + +"I think we can do it without calling on the pulmotor," he panted. +"Walter, the fumes have cleared away enough now in the outside +office. Open a window--and keep that street door open, too." + +I did so, found the switch and turned on the lights. + +It was Denison himself! + +For many minutes Kennedy worked over him. I bent down, loosened +his collar and shirt, and looked eagerly at his chest for the +tell-tale marks of the radium which I felt sure must be there. +There was not even a discoloration. + +Not a word was said, as Kennedy brought the stupefied little man +around. + +Denison, pale, shaken, was leaning back now in a big office chair, +gasping and holding his head. + +Kennedy, before him, reached down into his pocket and handed him +the spinthariscope. + +"You see that?" he demanded. + +Denison looked through the eyepiece. + +"Wh--where did you get so much of it?" he asked, a queer look on +his face. + +"I got that bit of radium from the base of the collar button of +Hartley Haughton," replied Kennedy quietly, "a collar button which +some one intimate with him had substituted for his own, bringing +that deadly radium with only the minutest protection of a thin +strip of metal close to the back of his neck, near the spinal cord +and the medulla oblongata which controls blood pressure. That +collar button was worse than the poisoned rings of the Borgias. +And there is more radium in the pretty gift of a tortoiseshell +comb with its paste diamonds which Miss Wallace wore in her hair. +Only a fraction of an inch, not enough to cut off the deadly alpha +rays, protected the wearers of those articles." + +He paused a moment, while surging through my mind came one after +another the explanations of the hitherto inexplicable. Denison +seemed almost to cringe in the chair, weak already from the fumes. + +"Besides," went on Kennedy remorselessly, "when I went in there to +drag you out, I saw the safe open. I looked. There was nothing in +those pretty platinum tubes, as I suspected. European trust--bah! +All the cheap devices of a faker with a confederate in London to +send a cablegram--and another in New York to send a threatening +letter." + +Kennedy extended an accusing forefinger at the man cowering before +him. + +"This is nothing but a get-rich-quick scheme, Denison. There never +was a milligram of radium in the Poor Little Rich Valley, not a +milligram here in all the carefully kept reports of Miss Wallace-- +except what was bought outside by the Corporation with the money +it collected from its dupes. Haughton has been fleeced. Miss +Wallace, blinded by her loyalty to you--you will always find such +a faithful girl in such schemes as yours--has been fooled. + +"And how did you repay it? What was cleverer, you said to +yourself, than to seem to be robbed of what you never had, to +blame it on a bitter rival who never existed? Then to make +assurance doubly sure, you planned to disable, perhaps get rid of +the come-on whom you had trimmed, and the faithful girl whose eyes +you had blinded to your gigantic swindle. + +"Denison," concluded Kennedy, as the man drew back, his very face +convicting him, "Denison, you are the radium robber--robber in +another sense!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE DEAD LINE + + +Maiden Lane, no less than Wall Street, was deeply interested in +the radium case. In fact, it seemed that one case in this section +of the city led to another. + +Naturally, the Star and the other papers made much of the capture +of Denison. Still, I was not prepared for the host of Maiden Lane +cases that followed. Many of them were essentially trivial. But +one proved to be of extreme importance. + +"Professor Kennedy, I have just heard of your radium case, and I-- +I feel that I can--trust you." + +There was a note of appeal in the hesitating voice of the tall, +heavily veiled woman whose card had been sent up to us with a +nervous "Urgent" written across its face. + +It was very early in the morning, but our visitor was evidently +completely unnerved by some news which she had just received and +which had sent her posting to see Craig. + +Kennedy met her gaze directly with a look that arrested her +involuntary effort to avoid it again. She must have read in his +eyes more than in his words that she might trust him. + +"I--I have a confession to make," she faltered. + +"Please sit down, Mrs. Moulton," he said simply. "It is my +business to receive confidences--and to keep them." + +She sank into, rather than sat down in, the deep leather rocker +beside his desk, and now for the first time raised her veil. + +Antoinette Moulton was indeed stunning, an exquisite creature with +a wonderful charm of slender youth, brightness of eye and brunette +radiance. + +I knew that she had been on the musical comedy stage and had had a +rapid rise to a star part before her marriage to Lynn Moulton, the +wealthy lawyer, almost twice her age. I knew also that she had +given up the stage, apparently without a regret. Yet there was +something strange about the air of secrecy of her visit. Was there +a hint in it of a disagreement between the Moultons, I wondered, +as I waited while Kennedy reassured her. + +Her distress was so unconcealed that Craig, for the moment, laid +aside his ordinary inquisitorial manner. "Tell me just as much or +just as little as you choose, Mrs. Moulton," he added tactfully. +"I will do my best." + +A look almost of gratitude crossed her face. + +"When we were married," she began again, "my husband gave me a +beautiful diamond necklace. Oh, it must have been worth a hundred +thousand dollars easily. It was splendid. Everyone has heard of +it. You know, Lynn--er--Mr. Moulton, has always been an +enthusiastic collector of jewels." + +She paused again and Kennedy nodded reassuringly. I knew the +thought in his mind. Moulton had collected one gem that was +incomparable with all the hundred thousand dollar necklaces in +existence. + +"Several months ago." she went on rapidly, still avoiding his eyes +and forcing the words from her reluctant lips, "I--oh, I needed +money--terribly." + +She had risen and faced him, pressing her daintily gloved hands +together in a little tremble of emotion which was none the less +genuine because she had studied the art of emotion. + +"I took the necklace to a jeweler, Herman Schloss, of Maiden Lane, +a man with whom my husband had often had dealings and whom I +thought I could trust. Under a promise of secrecy he loaned me +fifty thousand dollars on it and had an exact replica in paste +made by one of his best workmen. This morning, just now, Mr. +Schloss telephoned me that his safe had been robbed last night. My +necklace is gone!" + +She threw out her hands in a wildly appealing gesture. + +"And if Lynn finds that the necklace in our wall safe is of paste- +-as he will find, for he is an expert in diamonds--oh--what shall +I do? Can't you--can't you find my necklace?" + +Kennedy was following her now eagerly. "You were blackmailed out +of the money?" he queried casually, masking his question. + +There was a sudden, impulsive drooping of her mouth, an evasion +and keen wariness in her eyes. "I can't see that that has anything +to do with the robbery," she answered in a low voice. + +"I beg your pardon," corrected Kennedy quickly. "Perhaps not. I'm +sorry. Force of habit, I suppose. You don't know anything more +about the robbery?" + +"N--no, only that it seems impossible that it could have happened +in a place that has the wonderful burglar alarm protection that +Mr. Schloss described to me." + +"You know him pretty well?" + +"Only through this transaction," she replied hastily. "I wish to +heaven I had never heard of him." + +The telephone rang insistently. + +"Mrs. Moulton," said Kennedy, as he returned the receiver to the +hook, "it may interest you to know that the burglar alarm company +has just called me up about the same case. If I had need of an +added incentive, which I hope you will believe I have not, that +might furnish it. I will do my best," he repeated. + +"Thank you--a thousand times," she cried fervently, and, had I +been Craig, I think I should have needed no more thanks than the +look she gave him as he accompanied her to the door of our +apartment. + +It was still early and the eager crowds were pushing their way to +business through the narrow network of downtown streets as Kennedy +and I entered a large office on lower Broadway in the heart of the +jewelry trade and financial district. + +"One of the most amazing robberies that has ever been attempted +has been reported to us this morning," announced James McLear, +manager of the Hale Electric Protection, adding with a look half +of anxiety, half of skepticism, "that is, if it is true." + +McLear was a stocky man, of powerful build and voice and a general +appearance of having been once well connected with the city +detective force before an attractive offer had taken him into this +position of great responsibility. + +"Herman Schloss, one of the best known of Maiden Lane jewelers," +he continued, "has been robbed of goods worth two or three hundred +thousand dollars--and in spite of every modern protection. So that +you will get it clearly, let me show you what we do here." + +He ushered us into a large room, on the walls of which were +hundreds of little indicators. From the front they looked like +rows of little square compartments, tier on tier, about the size +of ordinary post office boxes. Closer examination showed that each +was equipped with a delicate needle arranged to oscillate backward +and forward upon the very minutest interference with the electric +current. Under the boxes, each of which bore a number, was a +series of drops and buzzers numbered to correspond with the boxes. + +"In nearly every office in Maiden Lane where gems and valuable +jewelry are stored," explained McLear, "this electrical system of +ours is installed. When the safes are closed at night and the +doors swung together, a current of electricity is constantly +shooting around the safes, conducted by cleverly concealed wires. +These wires are picked up by a cable system which finds its way to +this central office. Once here, the wires are safeguarded in such +manner that foreign currents from other wires or from lightning +cannot disturb the system." + +We looked with intense interest at this huge electrical pulse that +felt every change over so vast and rich an area. + +"Passing a big dividing board," he went on, "they are distributed +and connected each in its place to the delicate tangent +galvanometers and sensitive indicators you see in this room. These +instantly announce the most minute change in the working of the +current, and each office has a distinct separate metallic circuit. +Why, even a hole as small as a lead pencil in anything protected +would sound the alarm here." + +Kennedy nodded appreciatively. + +"You see," continued McLear, glad to be able to talk to one who +followed him so closely, "it is another evidence of science +finding for us greater security in the use of a tiny electric wire +than in massive walls of steel and intricate lock devices. But +here is a case in which, it seems, every known protection has +failed. We can't afford to pass that by. If we have fallen down we +want to know how, as well as to catch the burglar." + +"How are the signals given?" I asked. + +"Well, when the day's business is over, for instance, Schloss +would swing the heavy safe doors together and over them place the +doors of a wooden cabinet. That signals an alarm to us here. We +answer it and if the proper signal is returned, all right. After +that no one can tamper with the safe later in the night without +sounding an alarm that would bring a quick investigation." + +"But suppose that it became necessary to open the safe before the +next morning. Might not some trusted employee return to the +office, open it, give the proper signals and loot the safe?" + +"No indeed," he answered confidently. "The very moment anyone +touches the cabinet, the alarm is sounded. Even if the proper code +signal is returned, it is not sufficient. A couple of our trusted +men from the central office hustle around there anyhow and they +don't leave until they are satisfied that everything is right. We +have the authorized signatures on hand of those who are supposed +to open the safe and a duplicate of one of them must be given or +there is an arrest." + +McLear considered for a moment. + +"For instance, Schloss, like all the rest, was assigned a box in +which was deposited a sealed envelope containing a key to the +office and his own signature, in this case, since he alone knew +the combination. Now, when an alarm is sounded, as it was last +night, and the key removed to gain entrance to the office, a +record is made and the key has to be sealed up again by Schloss. A +report is also submitted showing when the signals are received and +anything else that is worth recording. Last night our men found +nothing wrong, apparently. But this morning we learn of the +robbery." + +"The point is, then," ruminated Kennedy, "what happened in the +interval between the ringing of the alarm and the arrival of the +special officers? I think I'll drop around and look Schloss' place +over," he added quietly, evidently eager to begin at the actual +scene of the crime. + +On the door of the office to which McLear took us was one of those +small blue plates which chance visitors to Maiden Lane must have +seen often. To the initiated--be he crook or jeweler--this simple +sign means that the merchant is a member of the Jewelers' Security +Alliance, enough in itself, it would seem, to make the boldest +burglar hesitate. For it is the motto of this organization to +"get" the thief at any cost and at any time. Still, it had not +deterred the burglar in this instance. + +"I know people are going to think it is a fake burglary," +exclaimed Schloss, a stout, prosperous-looking gem broker, as we +introduced ourselves. "But over two hundred thousands dollars' +worth of stones are gone," he half groaned. "Think of it, man," he +added, "one of the greatest robberies since the Dead Line was +established. And if they can get away with it, why, no one down +here is protected any more. Half a billion dollars in jewels in +Maiden Lane and John Street are easy prey for the cracksmen!" + +Staggering though the loss must have been to him, he had +apparently recovered from the first shock of the discovery and had +begun the fight to get back what had been lost. + +It was, as McLear had intimated, a most amazing burglary, too. The +door of Schloss' safe was open when Kennedy and I arrived and +found the excited jeweler nervously pacing the office. Surrounding +the safe, I noticed a wooden framework constructed in such a way +as to be a part of the decorative scheme of the office. + +Schloss banged the heavy doors shut. + +"There, that's just how it was--shut as tight as a drum. There was +absolutely no mark of anyone tampering with the combination lock. +And yet the safe was looted!" + +"How did you discover it?" asked Craig. "I presume you carry +burglary insurance?" + +Schloss looked up quickly. "That's what I expected as a first +question. No, I carried very little insurance. You see, I thought +the safe, one of those new chrome steel affairs, was about +impregnable. I never lost a moment's sleep over it; didn't think +it possible for anyone to get into it. For, as you see, it is +completely wired by the Hale Electric Protection--that wooden +framework about it. No one could touch that when it was set +without jangling a bell at the central office which would send men +scurrying here to protect the place." + +"But they must have got past it," suggested Kennedy. + +"Yes--they must have. At least this morning I received the regular +Hale report. It said that their wires registered last night as +though some one was tampering with the safe. But by the time they +got around, in less than five minutes, there was no one here, +nothing seemed to be disturbed. So they set it down to induction +or electrolysis, or something the matter with the wires. I got the +report the first thing when I arrived here with my assistant, +Muller." + +Kennedy was on his knees, going over the safe with a fine brush +and some powder, looking now and then through a small magnifying +glass. + +"Not a finger print," he muttered. "The cracksman must have worn +gloves. But how did he get in? There isn't a mark of 'soup' having +been used to blow it up, nor of a 'can-opener' to rip it open, if +that were possible, nor of an electric or any other kind of +drill." + +"I've read of those fellows who burn their way in," said Schloss. + +"But there is no hole," objected Kennedy, "not a trace of the use +of thermit to burn the way in or of the oxyacetylene blowpipe to +cut a piece out. Most extraordinary," he murmured. + +"You see," shrugged Schloss, "everyone will say it must have been +opened by one who knew the combination. But I am the only one. I +have never written it down or told anyone, not even Muller. You +understand what I am up against?" + +"There's the touch system," I suggested. "You remember, Craig, the +old fellow who used to file his finger tips to the quick until +they were so sensitive that he could actually feel when he had +turned the combination to the right plunger? Might not that +explain the lack of finger prints also?" I added eagerly. + +"Nothing like that in this case, Walter," objected Craig +positively. "This fellow wore gloves, all right. No, this safe has +been opened and looted by no ordinarily known method. It's the +most amazing case I ever saw in that respect--almost as if we had +a cracksman in the fourth dimension to whom the inside of a closed +cube is as accessible as is the inside of a plane square to us +three dimensional creatures. It is almost incomprehensible." + +I fancied I saw Schloss' face brighten as Kennedy took this view. +So far, evidently, he had run across only skepticism. + +"The stones were unset?" resumed Craig. + +"Mostly. Not all." + +"You would recognize some of them if you saw them?" + +"Yes indeed. Some could be changed only by re-cutting. Even some +of those that were set were of odd cut and size--some from a +diamond necklace which belonged to a--" + +There was something peculiar in both his tone and manner as he cut +short the words. + +"To whom?" asked Kennedy casually. + +"Oh, once to a well-known woman in society," he said carefully. +"It is mine, though, now--at least it was mine. I should prefer to +mention no names. I will give a description of the stones." + +"Mrs. Lynn Moulton, for instance?" suggested Craig quietly. + +Schloss jumped almost as if a burglar alarm had sounded under his +very ears. "How did you know? Yes--but it was a secret. I made a +large loan on it, and the time has expired." + +"Why did she need money so badly?" asked Kennedy. + +"How should I know?" demanded Schloss. + +Here was a deepening mystery, not to be elucidated by continuing +this line of inquiry with Schloss, it seemed. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THE PASTE REPLICA + + +Carefully Craig was going over the office. Outside of the safe, +there had apparently been nothing of value. The rest of the office +was not even wired, and it seemed to have been Schloss' idea that +the few thousands of burglary insurance amply protected him +against such loss. As for the safe, its own strength and the +careful wiring might well have been considered quite sufficient +under any hitherto to-be-foreseen circumstances. + +A glass door, around the bend of a partition, opened from the +hallway into the office and had apparently been designed with the +object of making visible the safe so that anyone passing might see +whether an intruder was tampering with it. + +Kennedy had examined the door, perhaps in the expectation of +finding finger prints there, and was passing on to other things, +when a change in his position caused his eye to catch a large oval +smudge on the glass, which was visible when the light struck it at +the right angle. Quickly he dusted it over with the powder, and +brought out the detail more clearly. As I examined it, while Craig +made preparations to cut out the glass to preserve it, it seemed +to contain a number of minute points and several more or less +broken parallel lines. The edges gradually trailed off into an +indistinct faintness. + +Business, naturally, was at a standstill, and as we were working +near the door, we could see that the news of Schloss' strange +robbery had leaked out and was spreading rapidly. Scores of +acquaintances in the trade stopped at the door to inquire about +the rumor. + +To each, it seemed that Morris Muller, the working jeweler +employed by Schloss, repeated the same story. + +"Oh," he said, "it is a big loss--yes--but big as it is, it will +not break Mr. Schloss. And," he would add with the tradesman's +idea of humor, "I guess he has enough to play a game of poker-- +eh?" + +"Poker?" asked Kennedy smiling. "Is he much of a player?" + +"Yes. Nearly every night with his friends he plays." + +Kennedy made a mental note of it. Evidently Schloss trusted Muller +implicitly. He seemed like a partner, rather than an employee, +even though he had not been entrusted with the secret combination. + +Outside, we ran into city detective Lieutenant Winters, the +officer who was stationed at the Maiden Lane post, guarding that +famous section of the Dead Line established by the immortal Byrnes +at Fulton Street, below which no crook was supposed to dare even +to be seen. Winters had been detailed on the case. + +"You have seen the safe in there?" asked Kennedy, as he was +leaving to carry on his investigation elsewhere. + +Winters seemed to be quite as skeptical as Schloss had intimated +the public would be. "Yes," he replied, "there's been an epidemic +of robbery with the dull times--people who want to collect their +burglary insurance, I guess." + +"But," objected Kennedy, "Schloss carried so little." + +"Well, there was the Hale Protection. How about that?" + +Craig looked up quickly, unruffled by the patronizing air of the +professional toward the amateur detective. + +"What is your theory?" he asked. "Do you think he robbed himself?" + +Winters shrugged his shoulders. "I've been interested in Schloss +for some time," he said enigmatically. "He has had some pretty +swell customers. I'll keep you wised up, if anything happens," he +added in a burst of graciousness, walking off. + +On the way to the subway, we paused again to see McLear. + +"Well," he asked, "what do you think of it, now?" + +"All most extraordinary," ruminated Craig. "And the queerest +feature of all is that the chief loss consists of a diamond +necklace that belonged once to Mrs. Antoinette Moulton." + +"Mrs. Lynn Moulton?" repeated McLear. + +"The same," assured Kennedy. + +McLear appeared somewhat puzzled. "Her husband is one of our old +subscribers," he pursued. "He is a lawyer on Wall Street and quite +a gem collector. Last night his safe was tampered with, but this +morning he reports no loss. Not half an hour ago he had us on the +wire congratulating us on scaring off the burglars, if there had +been any." + +"What is your opinion," I asked. "Is there a gang operating?" + +"My belief is," he answered, reminiscently of his days on the +detective force, "that none of the loot will be recovered until +they start to 'fence' it. That would be my lay--to look for the +fence. Why, think of all the big robberies that have been pulled +off lately. Remember," he went on, "the spoils of a burglary +consist generally of precious stones. They are not currency. They +must be turned into currency--or what's the use of robbery? + +"But merely to offer them for sale at an ordinary jeweler's would +be suspicious. Even pawnbrokers are on the watch. You see what I +am driving at? I think there is a man or a group of men whose +business it is to pay cash for stolen property and who have ways +of returning gems into the regular trade channels. In all these +robberies we get a glimpse of as dark and mysterious a criminal as +has ever been recorded. He may be--anybody. About his legitimacy, +I believe, no question has ever been raised. And, I tell you, his +arrest is going to create a greater sensation than even the +remarkable series of robberies that he has planned or made +possible. The question is, to my mind, who is this fence?" + +McLear's telephone rang and he handed the instrument to Craig. + +"Yes, this is Professor Kennedy," answered Craig. "Oh, too bad +you've had to try all over to get me. I've been going from one +place to another gathering clues and have made good progress, +considering I've hardly started. Why--what's the matter? Really?" + +An interval followed, during which McLear left to answer a +personal call on another wire. + +As Kennedy hung up the receiver, his face wore a peculiar look. +"It was Mrs. Moulton," he blurted out. "She thinks that her +husband has found out that the necklace is paste." + +"How?" I asked. + +"The paste replica is gone from her wall safe in the Deluxe." + +I turned, startled at the information. Even Kennedy himself was +perplexed at the sudden succession of events. I had nothing to +say. + +Evidently, however, his rule was when in doubt play a trump, for, +twenty minutes later found us in the office of Lynn Moulton, the +famous corporation lawyer, in Wall Street. + +Moulton was a handsome man of past fifty with a youthful face +against his iron gray hair and mustache, well dressed, genial, a +man who seemed keenly in love with the good things of life. + +"It is rumored," began Kennedy, "that an attempt was made on your +safe here at the office last night." + +"Yes," he admitted, taking off his glasses and polishing them +carefully. "I suppose there is no need of concealment, especially +as I hear that a somewhat similar attempt was made on the safe of +my friend Herman Schloss in Maiden Lane." + +"You lost nothing?" + +Moulton put his glasses on and looked Kennedy in the face frankly. + +"Nothing, fortunately," he said, then went on slowly. "You see, in +my later years, I have been something of a collector of precious +stones myself. I don't wear them, but I have always taken the +keenest pleasure in owning them and when I was married it gave me +a great deal more pleasure to have them set in rings, pendants, +tiaras, necklaces, and other forms for my wife." + +He had risen, with the air of a busy man who had given the subject +all the consideration he could afford and whose work proceeded +almost by schedule. "This morning I found my safe tampered with, +but, as I said, fortunately something must have scared off the +burglars." + +He bowed us out politely. What was the explanation, I wondered. It +seemed, on the face of things, that Antoinette Moulton feared her +husband. Did he know something else already, and did she know he +knew? To all appearances he took it very calmly, if he did know. +Perhaps that was what she feared, his very calmness. + +"I must see Mrs. Moulton again," remarked Kennedy, as we left. + +The Moultons lived, we found, in one of the largest suites of a +new apartment hotel, the Deluxe, and in spite of the fact that our +arrival had been announced some minutes before we saw Mrs. +Moulton, it was evident that she had been crying hysterically over +the loss of the paste jewels and what it implied. + +"I missed it this morning, after my return from seeing you," she +replied in answer to Craig's inquiry, then added, wide-eyed with +alarm, "What shall I do? He must have opened the wall safe and +found the replica. I don't dare ask him point-blank." + +"Are you sure he did it?" asked Kennedy, more, I felt, for its +moral effect on her than through any doubt in his own mind. + +"Not sure. But then the wall safe shows no marks, and the replica +is gone." + +"Might I see your jewel case?" he asked. + +"Surely. I'll get it. The wall safe is in Lynn's room. I shall +probably have to fuss a long time with the combination." + +In fact she could not have been very familiar with it for it took +several minutes before she returned. Meanwhile, Kennedy, who had +been drumming absently on the arms of his chair, suddenly rose and +walked quietly over to a scrap basket that stood beside an +escritoire. It had evidently just been emptied, for the rooms must +have been cleaned several hours before. He bent down over it and +picked up two scraps of paper adhering to the wicker work. The +rest had evidently been thrown away. + +I bent over to read them. One was: + + --rest Nettie-- + --dying to see-- + +The other read: + + --cherche to-d + --love and ma + --rman. + +What did it mean? Hastily, I could fill in "Dearest Nettie," and +"I am dying to see you." Kennedy added, "The Recherche to-day," +that being the name of a new apartment uptown, as well as "love +and many kisses." But "--rman"--what did that mean? Could it be +Herman--Herman Schloss? + +She was returning and we resumed our seats quickly. + +Kennedy took the jewel case from her and examined it carefully. +There was not a mark on it. + +"Mrs. Moulton," he said slowly, rising and handing it back to her, +"have you told me all?" + +"Why--yes," she answered. + +Kennedy shook his head gravely. + +"I'm afraid not. You must tell me everything." + +"No--no," she cried vehemently, "there is nothing more." + +We left and outside the Deluxe he paused, looked about, caught +sight of a taxicab and hailed it. + +"Where?" asked the driver. + +"Across the street," he said, "and wait. Put the window in back of +you down so I can talk. I'll tell you where to go presently. Now, +Walter, sit back as far as you can. This may seem like an +underhand thing to do, but we've got to get what that woman won't +tell us or give up the case." + +Perhaps half an hour we waited, still puzzling over the scraps of +paper. Suddenly I felt a nudge from Kennedy. Antoinette Moulton +was standing in the doorway across the street. Evidently she +preferred not to ride in her own car, for a moment later she +entered a taxicab. + +"Follow that black cab," said Kennedy to our driver. + +Sure enough, it stopped in front of the Recherche Apartments and +Mrs. Moulton stepped out and almost ran in. + +We waited a moment, then Kennedy followed. The elevator that had +taken her up had just returned to the ground floor. + +"The same floor again," remarked Kennedy, jauntily stepping in and +nodding familiarly to the elevator boy. + +Then he paused suddenly, looked at his watch, fixed his gaze +thoughtfully on me an instant, and exclaimed. "By George--no. I +can't go up yet. I clean forgot that engagement at the hotel. One +moment, son. Let us out. We'll be back again." + +Considerably mystified, I followed him to the sidewalk. + +"You're entitled to an explanation," he laughed catching my +bewildered look as he opened the cab door. "I didn't want to go up +now while she is there, but I wanted to get on good terms with +that boy. We'll wait until she comes down, then go up." + +"Where?" I asked. + +"That's what I am going through all this elaborate preparation to +find out. I have no more idea than you have." + +It could not have been more than twenty minutes later when Mrs. +Moulton emerged rather hurriedly, and drove away. + +While we had been waiting I had observed a man on the other side +of the street who seemed unduly interested in the Recherche, too, +for he had walked up and down the block no less than six times. +Kennedy saw him, and as he made no effort to follow Mrs. Moulton, +Kennedy did not do so either. In fact a little quick glance which +she had given at our cab had raised a fear that she might have +discovered that she was being followed. + +Kennedy and I paid off our cabman and sauntered into the Recherche +in the most debonair manner we could assume. + +"Now, son, we'll go up," he said to the boy who, remembering us, +and now not at all clear in his mind that he might not have seen +us before that, whisked us to the tenth floor. + +"Let me see," said Kennedy, "it's number one hundred and--er---" + +"Three," prompted the boy. + +He pressed the buzzer and a neatly dressed colored maid responded. + +"I had an appointment here with Mrs. Moulton this morning," +remarked Kennedy. + +"She has just gone," replied the maid, off her guard. + +"And was to meet Mr. Schloss here in half an hour," he added +quickly. + +It was the maid's turn to look surprised. + +"I didn't think he was to be here," she said. "He's had some--" + +"Trouble at the office," supplied Kennedy. "That's what it was +about. Perhaps he hasn't been able to get away yet. But I had the +appointment. Ah, I see a telephone in the hall. May I?" + +He had stepped politely in, and by dint of cleverly keeping his +finger on the hook in the half light, he carried on a one-sided +conversation with himself long enough to get a good chance to look +about. + +There was an air of quiet and refinement about the apartment in +the Recherche. It was darkened to give the little glowing electric +bulbs in their silken shades a full chance to simulate right. The +deep velvety carpets were noiseless to the foot, and the +draperies, the pictures, the bronzes, all bespoke taste. + +But the chief objects of interest to Craig were the little square +green baize-covered tables on one of which lay neatly stacked a +pile of gilt-edged cards and a mahogany box full of ivory chips of +red, white and blue. + +It was none of the old-time gambling places, like Danfield's, with +its steel door which Craig had once cut through with an +oxyacetylene blowpipe in order to rescue a young spendthrift from +himself. + +Kennedy seemed perfectly well satisfied merely with a cursory view +of the place, as he hung up the receiver and thanked the maid +politely for allowing him to use it. + +"This is up-to-date gambling in cleaned-up New York," he remarked +as we waited for the elevator to return for us. "And the worst of +it all is that it gets the women as well as the men. Once they are +caught in the net, they are the most powerful lure to men that the +gamblers have yet devised." + +We rode down in silence, and as we went down the steps to the +street, I noticed the man whom we had seen watching the place, +lurking down at the lower corner. Kennedy quickened his pace and +came up behind him. + +"Why, Winters!" exclaimed Craig. "You here?" + +"I might say the same to you," grinned the detective not +displeased evidently that our trail had crossed his. "I suppose +you are looking for Schloss, too. He's up in the Recherche a great +deal, playing poker. I understand he owns an interest in the game +up there." + +Kennedy nodded, but said nothing. + +"I just saw one of the cappers for the place go out before you +went in." + +"Capper?" repeated Kennedy surprised. "Antoinette Moulton a +steerer for a gambling joint? What can a rich society woman have +to do with a place like that or a man like Schloss?" + +Winters smiled sardonically. "Society ladies to-day often get into +scrapes of which their husbands know nothing," he remarked. "You +didn't know before that Antoinette Moulton, like many of her +friends in the smart set, was a gambler--and loser--did you?" + +Craig shook his head. He had more of human than scientific +interest in a case of a woman of her caliber gone wrong. + +"But you must have read of the famous Moulton diamonds?" + +"Yes," said Craig, blankly, as if it were all news to him. + +"Schloss has them--or at least had them. The jewels she wore at +the opera this winter were paste, I understand." + +"Does Moulton play?" he asked. + +"I think so--but not here, naturally. In a way, I suppose, it is +his fault. They all do it. The example of one drives on another." + +Instantly there flashed over my mind a host of possibilities. +Perhaps, after all, Winters had been right. Schloss had taken this +way to make sure of the jewels so that she could not redeem them. +Suddenly another explanation crowded that out. Had Mrs. Moulton +robbed the safe herself, or hired some one else to do it for her, +and had that person gone back on her? + +Then a horrid possibility occurred to me. Whatever Antoinette +Moulton may have been and done, some one must have her in his +power. What a situation for the woman! My sympathy went out to her +in her supreme struggle. Even if it had been a real robbery, +Schloss might easily recover from it. But for her every event +spelled ruin and seemed only to be bringing that ruin closer. + +We left Winters, still watching on the trail of Schloss, and went +on uptown to the laboratory. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE BURGLAR'S MICROPHONE + + +That night I was sitting, brooding over the case, while Craig was +studying a photograph which he made of the smudge on the glass +door down at Schloss'. He paused in his scrutiny of the print to +answer the telephone. + +"Something has happened to Schloss," he exclaimed seizing his hat +and coat. "Winters has been watching him. He didn't go to the +Recherche. Winters wants me to meet him at a place several blocks +below it Come on. He wouldn't say over the wire what it was. +Hurry." + +We met Winters in less than ten minutes at the address he had +given, a bachelor apartment in the neighborhood of the Recherche. + +"Schloss kept rooms here," explained Winters, hurrying us quickly +upstairs. "I wanted you to see before anyone else." + +As we entered the large and luxuriously furnished living room of +the jeweler's suite, a gruesome sight greeted us. + +There lay Schloss on the floor, face down, in a horribly contorted +position. In one hand, clenched under him partly, the torn sleeve +of a woman's dress was grasped convulsively. The room bore +unmistakable traces of a violent struggle, but except for the +hideous object on the floor was vacant. + +Kennedy bent down over him. Schloss was dead. In a corner, by the +door, stood a pile of grips, stacked up, packed, and undisturbed. + +Winters who had been studying the room while we got our bearings +picked up a queer-looking revolver from the floor. As he held it +up I could see that along the top of the barrel was a long +cylinder with a ratchet or catch at the butt end. He turned it +over and over carefully. + +"By George," he muttered, "it has been fired off." + +Kennedy glanced more minutely at the body. There was not a mark on +it. I stared about vacantly at the place where Winters had picked +the thing up. + +"Look," I cried, my eye catching a little hole in the baseboard of +the woodwork near it. + +"It must have fallen and exploded on the floor," remarked Kennedy. +"Let me see it, Winters." + +Craig held it at arm's length and pulled the catch. Instead of an +explosion, there came a cone of light from the top of the gun. As +Kennedy moved it over the wall, I saw in the center of the circle +of light a dark spot. + +"A new invention," Craig explained. "All you need to do is to move +it so that little dark spot falls directly on an object. Pull the trigger-- +the bullet strikes the dark spot. Even a nervous and unskilled +marksman becomes a good shot in the dark. He can even shoot +from behind the protection of something--and hit accurately." + +It was too much for me. I could only stand and watch Kennedy as he +deftly bent over Schloss again and placed a piece of chemically +prepared paper flat on the forehead of the dead man. + +When he withdrew it, I could see that it bore marks of the lines +on his head. Without a word, Kennedy drew from his pocket a print +of the photograph of the smudge on Schloss' door. + +"It is possible," he said, half to himself, "to identify a person +by means of the arrangement of the sweat glands or pores. +Poroscopy, Dr. Edmond Locard, director of the Police Laboratory at +Lyons, calls it. The shape, arrangement, number per square +centimeter, all vary in different individuals. Besides, here we +have added the lines of the forehead." + +He was studying the two impressions intensely. When he looked up +from his examination, his face wore a peculiar expression. + +"This is not the head which was placed so close to the glass of +the door of Schloss' office, peering through, on the night of the +robbery, in order to see before picking the lock whether the +office was empty and everything ready for the hasty attack on the +safe." + +"That disposes of my theory that Schloss robbed himself," remarked +Winters reluctantly. "But the struggle here, the sleeve of the +dress, the pistol--could he have been shot?" + +"No, I think not," considered Kennedy. "It looks to me more like a +case of apoplexy." + +"What shall we do?" asked Winters. "Far from clearing anything up, +this complicates it." + +"Where's Muller?" asked Kennedy. "Does he know? Perhaps he can +shed some light on it." + +The clang of an ambulance bell outside told that the aid summoned +by Winters had arrived. + +We left the body in charge of the surgeon and of a policeman who +arrived about the same time, and followed Winters. + +Muller lived in a cheap boarding house in a shabbily respectable +street downtown, and without announcing ourselves we climbed the +stairs to his room. He looked up surprised but not disconcerted as +we entered. + +"What's the matter?" he asked. + +"Muller," shot out Winters, "we have just found Mr. Schloss dead!" + +"D-dead!" he stammered. + +The man seemed speechless with horror. + +"Yes, and with his grips packed as if to run away." + +Muller looked dazedly from one of us to the other, but shut up +like a clam. + +"I think you had better come along with us as a material witness," +burst out Winters roughly. + +Kennedy said nothing, leaving that sort of third degree work to +the detective. But he was not idle, as Winters tried to extract +more than the monosyllables, "I don't know," in answer to every +inquiry of Muller about his employer's life and business. + +A low exclamation from Craig attracted my attention from Winters. +In a corner he had discovered a small box and had opened it. +Inside was a dry battery and a most peculiar instrument, something +like a little flat telephone transmitter yet attached by wires to +earpieces that fitted over the head after the manner of those of a +wireless detector. + +"What's this?" asked Kennedy, dangling it before Muller. + +He looked at it phlegmatically. "A deaf instrument I have been +working on," replied the jeweler. "My hearing is getting poor." + +Kennedy looked hastily from the instrument to the man. + +"I think I'll take it along with us," he said quietly. + +Winters, true to his instincts, had been searching Muller in the +meantime. Besides the various assortment that a man carries in his +pockets usually, including pens, pencils, notebooks, a watch, a +handkerchief, a bunch of keys, one of which was large enough to +open a castle, there was a bunch of blank and unissued pawn-tickets +bearing the name, "Stein's One Per Cent. a Month Loans," and an +address on the Bowery. + +Was Muller the "fence" we were seeking, or only a tool for the +"fence" higher up? Who was this Stein? + +What it all meant I could only guess. It was a far cry from the +wealth of Diamond Lane to a dingy Bowery pawnshop, even though +pawnbroking at one per cent. a month--and more, on the side--pays. +I knew, too, that diamonds are hoarded on the East Side as nowhere +else in the world, outside of India. It was no uncommon thing, I +had heard, for a pawnbroker whose shop seemed dirty and greasy to +the casual visitor to have stored away in his vault gems running +into the hundreds of thousands of dollars. + +"Mrs. Moulton must know of this," remarked Kennedy. "Winters, you +and Jameson bring Muller along. I am going up to the Deluxe." + +I must say that I was surprised at finding Mrs. Moulton there. +Outside the suite Winters and I waited with the unresisting +Muller, while Kennedy entered. But through the door which he left +ajar I could hear what passed. + +"Mrs. Moulton," he began, "something terrible has happened--" + +He broke off, and I gathered that her pale face and agitated +manner told him that she knew already. + +"Where is Mr. Moulton?" he went on, changing his question. + +"Mr. Moulton is at his office," she answered tremulously. "He +telephoned while I was out that he had to work to-night. Oh, Mr. +Kennedy--he knows--he knows. I know it. He has avoided me ever +since I missed the replica from-" + +"Sh!" cautioned Craig. He had risen and gone to the door. + +"Winters," he whispered, "I want you to go down to Lynn Moulton's +office. Meanwhile Jameson can take care of Muller. I am going over +to that place of Stein's presently. Bring Moulton up there. You +will wait here, Walter, for the present," he nodded. + +He returned to the room where I could hear her crying softly. + +"Now, Mrs. Moulton," he said gently, "I'm afraid I must trouble +you to go with me. I am going over to a pawnbroker's on the +Bowery." + +"The Bowery?" she repeated, with a genuinely surprised shudder. +"Oh, no, Mr. Kennedy. Don't ask me to go anywhere to-night. I am-- +I am in no condition to go anywhere--to do anything--I--" + +"But you must," said Kennedy in a low voice. + +"I can't. Oh--have mercy on me. I am terribly upset. You--" + +"It is your duty to go, Mrs. Moulton," he repeated. + +"I don't understand." she murmured. "A pawnbroker's?" + +"Come," urged Kennedy, not harshly but firmly, then, as she held +back, added, playing a trump card, "We must work quickly. In his +hands we found the fragments of a torn dress. When the police--" + +She uttered a shriek. A glance had told her, if she had deceived +herself before, that Kennedy knew her secret. + +Antoinette Moulton was standing before him, talking rapidly. + +"Some one has told Lynn. I know it. There is nothing now that I +can conceal. If you had come half an hour later you would not have +found me. He had written to Mr. Schloss, threatening him that if +he did not leave the country he would shoot him at sight. Mr. +Schloss showed me the letter. + +"It had come to this. I must either elope with Schloss, or lose +his aid. The thought of either was unendurable. I hated him--yet +was dependent on him. + +"To-night I met him, in his empty apartment, alone. I knew that he +had what was left of his money with him, that everything was +packed up. I went prepared. I would not elope. My plan was no less +than to make him pay the balance on the necklace that he had lost- +-or to murder him. + +"I carried a new pistol in my muff, one which Lynn had just +bought. I don't know how I did it. I was desperate. + +"He told me he loved me, that Lynn did not, never had--that Lynn +had married me only to show off his wealth and diamonds, to give +him a social! position--that I was merely a--a piece of property-- +a dummy. + +"He tried to kiss me. It was revolting. I struggled away from him. + +"And in the struggle, the revolver fell from my muff and exploded +on the floor. + +"At once he was aflame with suspicion. + +"'So--it's murder you want!' he shouted. 'Well, murder it shall +be!' + +"I saw death in his eye as he seized my arm. I was defenseless +now. The old passion came over him. Before he killed--he--would +have his way with me. + +"I screamed. With a wild effort I twisted away from him. + +"He raised his hand to strike me, I saw his eyes, glassy. Then he +sank back--fell to the floor--dead of apoplexy--dead of his +furious emotions. + +"I fled. + +"And now you have found me." + +She had turned, hastily, to leave the room. Kennedy blocked the +door. + +"Mrs. Moulton," he said firmly, "listen to me. What was the first +question you asked me? 'Can I trust you?' And I told you you +could. This is no time for--for suicide." He shot the word out +bluntly. "All may not be lost. I have sent for your husband. +Muller is outside." + +"Muller?" she cried. "He made the replica." + +"Very well. I am going to clear this thing up. Come. You MUST." + +It was all confused to me, the dash in a car to the little +pawnbroker's on the first floor of a five-story tenement, the +quick entry into the place by one of Muller's keys. + +Over the safe in back was a framework like that which had covered +Schloss' safe. Kennedy tore it away, regardless of the alarm which +it must have sounded. In a moment he was down before it on his +knees. + +"This is how Schloss' safe was opened so quickly," he muttered, +working feverishly. "Here is some of their own medicine." + +He had placed the peculiar telephone-like transmitter close to the +combination lock and was turning the combination rapidly. + +Suddenly he rose, gave the bolts a twist, and the ponderous doors +swung open. + +"What is it?" I asked eagerly. + +"A burglar's microphone," he answered, hastily looking over the +contents of the safe. "The microphone is now used by burglars for +picking combination locks. When you turn the lock, a slight sound +is made when the proper number comes opposite the working point. +It can be heard sometimes by a sensitive ear, although it is +imperceptible to most persons. But by using a microphone it is an +easy matter to hear the sounds which allow of opening the lock." + +He had taken a yellow chamois bag out of the safe and opened it. + +Inside sparkled the famous Moulton diamonds. He held them up--in +all their wicked brilliancy. No one spoke. + +Then he took another yellow bag, more dirty and worn than the +first. As he opened it, Mrs. Moulton could restrain herself no +longer. + +"The replica!" she cried. "The replica!" + +Without a word, Craig handed the real necklace to her. Then he +slipped the paste jewels into the newer of the bags and restored +both it and the empty one to their places, banged shut the door of +the safe, and replaced the wooden screen. + +"Quick!" he said to her, "you have still a minute to get away. +Hurry--anywhere--away--only away!" + +The look of gratitude that came over her face, as she understood +the full meaning of it was such as I had never seen before. + +"Quick!" he repeated. + +It was too late. + +"For God's sake, Kennedy," shouted a voice at the street door, +"what are you doing here?" + +It was McLear himself. He had come with the Hale patrol, on his +mettle now to take care of the epidemic of robberies. + +Before Craig could reply a cab drew up with a rush at the curb and +two men, half fighting, half cursing, catapulted themselves into +the shop. + +They were Winters and Moulton. + +Without a word, taking advantage of the first shock of surprise, +Kennedy had clapped a piece of chemical paper on the foreheads of +Mrs. Moulton, then of Moulton, and on Muller's. Oblivious to the +rest of us, he studied the impressions in the full light of the +counter. + +Moulton was facing his wife with a scornful curl of the lip. + +"I've been told of the paste replica--and I wrote Schloss that I'd +shoot him down like the dog he is, you--you traitress," he hissed. + +She drew herself up scornfully. + +"And I have been told why you married me--to show off your wicked +jewels and help you in your--" + +"You lie!" he cried fiercely. "Muller--some one--open this safe-- +whosever it is. If what I have been told is true, there is in it +one new bag containing the necklace. It was stolen from Schloss to +whom you sold my jewels. The other old bag, stolen from me, +contains the paste replica you had made to deceive me." + +It was all so confused that I do not know how it happened. I think +it was Muller who opened the safe. + +"There is the new yellow bag," cried Moulton, "from Schloss' own +safe. Open it." + +McLear had taken it. He did so. There sparkled not the real gems, +but the replica. + +"The devil!" Moulton exclaimed, breaking from Winters and seizing +the old bag. + +He tore it open and--it was empty. + +"One moment," interrupted Kennedy, looking up quietly from the +counter. "Seal that safe again, McLear. In it are the Schloss +jewels and the products of half a dozen other robberies which the +dupe Muller--or Stein, as you please--pulled off, some as a blind +to conceal the real criminal. You may have shown him how to leave +no finger prints, but you yourself have left what is just as good- +-your own forehead print. McLear--you were right. There's your +criminal--Lynn Moulton, professional fence, the brains of the +thing." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE GERM LETTER + + +Lynn Moulton made no fight and Kennedy did not pursue the case, +for, with the rescue of Antoinette Moulton, his interest ceased. + +Blackmail takes various forms, and the Moulton affair was only one +phase of it. It was not long before we had to meet a much stranger +attempt. + +"Read the letter, Professor Kennedy. Then I will tell you the +sequel." + +Mrs. Hunter Blake lay back in the cushions of her invalid chair in +the sun parlor of the great Blake mansion on Riverside Drive, +facing the Hudson with its continuous reel of maritime life framed +against the green-hilled background of the Jersey shore. + +Her nurse, Miss Dora Sears, gently smoothed out the pillows and +adjusted them so that the invalid could more easily watch us. Mrs. +Blake, wealthy, known as a philanthropist, was not an old woman, +but had been for years a great sufferer from rheumatism. + +I watched Miss Sears eagerly. Full-bosomed, fine of face and +figure, she was something more than a nurse; she was a companion. +She had bright, sparkling black eyes and an expression about her +well-cut mouth which made one want to laugh with her. It seemed to +say that the world was a huge joke and she invited you to enjoy +the joke with her. + +Kennedy took the letter which Miss Sears proffered him, and as he +did so I could not help noticing her full, plump forearm on which +gleamed a handsome plain gold bracelet. He spread the letter out +on a dainty wicker table in such a way that we both could see it. + +We had been summoned over the telephone to the Blake mansion by +Reginald Blake, Mrs. Blake's eldest son. Reginald had been very +reticent over the reason, but had seemed very anxious and +insistent that Kennedy should come immediately. + +Craig read quickly and I followed him, fascinated by the letter +from its very opening paragraph. + +"Dear Madam," it began. "Having received my diploma as doctor of +medicine and bacteriology at Heidelberg in 1909, I came to the +United States to study a most serious disease which is prevalent +in several of the western mountain states." + +So far, I reflected, it looked like an ordinary appeal for aid. +The next words, however, were queer: "I have four hundred persons +of wealth on my list. Your name was--" + +Kennedy turned the page. On the next leaf of the letter sheet was +pasted a strip of gelatine. The first page had adhered slightly to +the gelatine. + +"Chosen by fate," went on the sentence ominously. + +"By opening this letter," I read, "you have liberated millions of +the virulent bacteria of this disease. Without a doubt you are +infected by this time, for no human body is impervious to them, +and up to the present only one in one hundred has fully recovered +after going through all its stages." + +I gasped. The gelatine had evidently been arranged so that when +the two sheets were pulled apart, the germs would be thrown into +the air about the person opening the letter. It was a very +ingenious device. + +The letter continued, "I am happy to say, however, that I have a +prophylactic which will destroy any number of these germs if used +up to the ninth day. It is necessary only that you should place +five thousand dollars in an envelope and leave it for me to be +called for at the desk of the Prince Henry Hotel. When the +messenger delivers the money to me, the prophylactic will be sent +immediately. + +"First of all, take a match and burn this letter to avoid +spreading the disease. Then change your clothes and burn the old +ones. Enclosed you will find in a germ-proof envelope an exact +copy of this letter. The room should then be thoroughly fumigated. +Do not come into close contact with anyone near and dear to you +until you have used the prophylactic. Tell no one. In case you do, +the prophylactic will not be sent under any circumstances. Very +truly yours, DR. HANS HOPF." + +"Blackmail!" exclaimed Kennedy, looking intently again at the +gelatine on the second page, as I involuntarily backed away and +held my breath. + +"Yes, I know," responded Mrs. Blake anxiously, "but is it true?" + +There could be no doubt from the tone of her voice that she more +than half believed that it was true. + +"I cannot say--yet," replied Craig, still cautiously scanning the +apparently innocent piece of gelatine on the original letter which +Mrs. Blake had not destroyed. "I shall have to keep it and examine +it." + +On the gelatine I could see a dark mass which evidently was +supposed to contain the germs. + +"I opened the letter here in this room," she went on. "At first I +thought nothing of it. But this morning, when Buster, my prize +Pekinese, who had been with me, sitting on my lap at the time, and +closer to the letter even than I was, when Buster was taken +suddenly ill, I--well, I began to worry." + +She finished with a little nervous laugh, as people will to hide +their real feelings. + +"I should like to see the dog," remarked Kennedy simply. + +"Miss Sears," asked her mistress, "will you get Buster, please?" + +The nurse left the room. No longer was there the laughing look on +her face. This was serious business. + +A few minutes later she reappeared, carrying gingerly a small dog +basket. Mrs. Blake lifted the lid. Inside was a beautiful little +"Peke," and it was easy to see that Buster was indeed ill. + +"Who is your doctor?" asked Craig, considering. + +"Dr. Rae Wilson, a very well-known woman physician." + +Kennedy nodded recognition of the name. "What does she say?" he +asked, observing the dog narrowly. + +"We haven't told anyone, outside, of it yet," replied Mrs. Blake. +"In fact until Buster fell sick, I thought it was a hoax." + +"You haven't told anyone?" + +"Only Reginald and my daughter Betty. Betty is frantic--not with +fear for herself, but with fear for me. No one can reassure her. +In fact it was as much for her sake as anyone's that I sent for +you. Reginald has tried to trace the thing down himself, but has +not succeeded." + +She paused. The door opened and Reginald Blake entered. He was a +young fellow, self confident and no doubt very efficient at the +new dances, though scarcely fitted to rub elbows with a cold world +which, outside of his own immediate circle, knew not the name of +Blake. He stood for a moment regarding us through the smoke of his +cigarette. + +"Tell me just what you have done," asked Kennedy of him as his +mother introduced him, although he had done the talking for her +over the telephone. + +"Done?" he drawled. "Why, as soon as mother told me of the letter, +I left an envelope up at the Prince Henry, as it directed." + +"With the money?" put in Craig quickly. + +"Oh, no--just as a decoy." + +"Yes. What happened?" + +"Well, I waited around a long time. It was far along in the day +when a woman appeared at the desk. I had instructed the clerk to +be on the watch for anyone who asked for mail addressed to a Dr. +Hopf. The clerk slammed the register. That was the signal. I moved +up closer." + +"What did she look like?" asked Kennedy keenly. + +"I couldn't see her face. But she was beautifully dressed, with a +long light flowing linen duster, a veil that hid her features and +on her hands and arms a long pair of motoring doeskin gloves. By +George, she was a winner--in general looks, though. Well, +something about the clerk, I suppose, must have aroused her +suspicions. For, a moment later, she was gone in the crowd. +Evidently she had thought of the danger and had picked out a time +when the lobby would be full and everybody busy. But she did not +leave by the front entrance through which she entered. I concluded +that she must have left by one of the side street carriage doors." + +"And she got away?" + +"Yes. I found that she asked one of the boys at the door to crank +up a car standing at the curb. She slid into the seat, and was off +in a minute." + +Kennedy said nothing. But I knew that he was making a mighty +effort to restrain comment on the bungling amateur detective work +of the son of our client. + +Reginald saw the look on his face. "Still," he hastened, "I got +the number of the car. It was 200859 New York." + +"You have looked it up?" queried Kennedy quickly. + +"I didn't need to do it. A few minutes later Dr. Rae Wilson +herself came out--storming like mad. Her car had been stolen at +the very door of the hotel by this woman with the innocent aid of +the hotel employees." + +Kennedy was evidently keenly interested. The mention of the stolen +car had apparently at once suggested an idea to him. + +"Mrs. Blake," he said, as he rose to go, "I shall take this letter +with me. Will you see that Buster is sent up to my laboratory +immediately?" + +She nodded. It was evident that Buster was a great pet with her +and that it was with difficulty she kept from smoothing his silky +coat. + +"You--you won't hurt Buster?" she pleaded. + +"No. Trust me. More than that, if there is any possible way of +untangling this mystery, I shall do it." + +Mrs. Blake looked rather than spoke her thanks. As we went +downstairs, accompanied by Miss Sears, we could see in the music +room a very interesting couple, chatting earnestly over the piano. + +Betty Blake, a slip of a girl in her first season, was dividing +her attention between her visitor and the door by which we were +passing. + +She rose as she heard us, leaving the young man standing alone at +the piano. He was of an age perhaps a year or two older than +Reginald Blake. It was evident that, whatever Miss Betty might +think, he had eyes for no one else but the pretty debutante. He +even seemed to be regarding Kennedy sullenly, as if he were a +possible rival. + +"You--you don't think it is serious?" whispered Betty in an +undertone, scarcely waiting to be introduced. She had evidently +known of our visit, but had been unable to get away to be present +upstairs. + +"Really, Miss Blake," reassured Kennedy, "I can't say. All I can +do is to repeat what I have already said to your mother. Keep up a +good heart and trust me to work it out." + +"Thank you," she murmured, and then, impulsively extending her +small hand to Craig, she added, "Mr. Kennedy, if there is anything +I can do to help you, I beg that you will call on me." + +"I shall not forget," he answered, relinquishing the hand +reluctantly. Then, as she thanked him, and turned again to her +guest, he added in a low tone to me, "A remarkable girl, Walter, a +girl that can be depended on." + +We followed Miss Sears down the hall. + +"Who was that young man in the music room?" asked Kennedy, when we +were out of earshot. + +"Duncan Baldwin," she answered. "A friend and bosom companion of +Reginald." + +"He seems to think more of Betty than of her brother," Craig +remarked dryly. + +Miss Sears smiled. "Sometimes, we think they are secretly +engaged," she returned. We had almost reached the door. "By the +way," she asked anxiously, "do you think there are any precautions +that I should take for Mrs. Blake--and the rest?" + +"Hardly," answered Kennedy, after a moment's consideration, "as +long as you have taken none in particular already. Still, I +suppose it will do no harm to be as antiseptic as possible." + +"I shall try," she promised, her face showing that she considered +the affair now in a much more serious light than she had before +our visit. + +"And keep me informed of anything that turns up," added Kennedy +handing her a card with the telephone number of the laboratory. + +As we left the Blake mansion, Kennedy remarked, "We must trace +that car somehow--at least we must get someone working on that." + +Half an hour later we were in a towering office building on +Liberty Street, the home of various kinds of insurance. Kennedy +stopped before a door which bore the name, "Douglas Garwood: +Insurance Adjuster." + +Briefly, Craig told the story of the stolen car, omitting the +account of the dastardly method taken to blackmail Mrs. Blake. As +he proceeded a light seemed to break on the face of Garwood, a +heavyset man, whose very gaze was inquisitorial. + +"Yes, the theft has been reported to us already by Dr. Wilson +herself," he interrupted. "The car was insured in a company I +represent." + +"I had hoped so," remarked Kennedy, "Do you know the woman?" he +added, watching the insurance adjuster who had been listening +intently as he told about the fair motor car thief. + +"Know her?" repeated Garwood emphatically. "Why, man, we have been +so close to that woman that I feel almost intimate with her. The +descriptions are those of a lady, well-dressed, and with a voice +and manner that would carry her through any of the fashionable +hotels, perhaps into society itself." + +"One of a gang of blackmailers, then," I hazarded. + +Garwood shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps," he acquiesced. "It is +automobile thieving that interests me, though. Why," he went on, +rising excitedly, "the gangs of these thieves are getting away +with half a million dollars' worth of high-priced cars every year. +The police seem to be powerless to stop it. We appeal to them, but +with no result. So, now we have taken things into our own hands." + +"What are you doing in this case?" asked Kennedy. + +"What the insurance companies have to do to recover stolen +automobiles," Garwood replied. "For, with all deference to your +friend, Deputy O'Connor, it is the insurance companies rather than +the police who get stolen cars back." + +He had pulled out a postal card from a pigeon hole in his desk, +selecting it from several apparently similar. We read: + +$250.00 REWARD + +We will pay $100.00 for car, $150.00 additional for information +which will convict the thief. When last seen, driven by a woman, +name not known, who is described as dark-haired, well-dressed, +slight, apparently thirty years old. The car is a Dixon, 1912, +seven-passenger, touring, No. 193,222, license No. 200,859, New +York; dark red body, mohair top, brass lamps, has no wind shield; +rear axle brake band device has extra nut on turnbuckle not +painted. Car last seen near Prince Henry Hotel, New York City, +Friday, the 10th. + +Communicate by telegraph or telephone, after notifying nearest +police department, with Douglas Garwood, New York City. "The +secret of it is," explained Garwood, as we finished reading, "that +there are innumerable people who keep their eyes open and like to +earn money easily. Thus we have several hundreds of amateur and +enthusiastic detectives watching all over the city and country for +any car that looks suspicious." + +Kennedy thanked him for his courtesy, and we rose to go. "I shall +be glad to keep you informed of anything that turns up," he +promised. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE ARTIFICIAL KIDNEY + + +In the laboratory, Kennedy quietly set to work. He began by +tearing from the germ letter the piece of gelatine and first +examining it with a pocket lens. Then, with a sterile platinum +wire, he picked out several minute sections of the black spot on +the gelatine and placed them in agar, blood serum, and other media +on which they would be likely to grow. + +"I shall have to wait until to-morrow to examine them properly," +he remarked. "There are colonies of something there, all right, +but I must have them more fully developed." + +A hurried telephone call late in the day from Miss Sears told us +that Mrs. Blake herself had begun to complain, and that Dr. Wilson +had been summoned but had been unable to give an opinion on the +nature of the malady. + +Kennedy quickly decided on making a visit to the doctor, who lived +not far downtown from the laboratory. + +Dr. Rae Wilson proved to be a nervous little woman, inclined, I +felt, to be dictatorial. I thought that secretly she felt a little +piqued at our having been taken into the Blakes' confidence before +herself, and Kennedy made every effort to smooth that aspect over +tactfully. + +"Have you any idea what it can be?" he asked finally. + +She shook her head noncommittally. "I have taken blood smears," she +answered, "but so far haven't been able to discover anything. I +shall have to have her under observation for a day or two before I +can answer that. Still, as Mrs. Blake is so ill, I have ordered +another trained nurse to relieve Miss Sears of the added work, a +very efficient nurse, a Miss Rogers." + +Kennedy had risen to go. "You have had no word about your car?" he +asked casually. + +"None yet. I'm not worrying. It was insured." + +"Who is this arch criminal, Dr. Hopf?" I mused as we retraced our +steps to the laboratory. "Is Mrs. Blake stricken now by the same +trouble that seems to have affected Buster?" + +"Only my examination will show," he said. "I shall let nothing +interfere with that now. It must be the starting point for any +work that I may do in the case." + +We arrived at Kennedy's workshop of scientific crime and he +immediately plunged into work. Looking up he caught sight of me +standing helplessly idle. + +"Walter," he remarked thoughtfully adjusting a microscope, +"suppose you run down and see Garwood. Perhaps he has something to +report. And by the way, while you are out, make inquiries about +the Blakes, young Baldwin, Miss Sears and this Dr. Wilson. I have +heard of her before, at least by name. Perhaps you may find +something interesting." + +Glad to have a chance to seem to be doing something whether it +amounted to anything or not, I dropped in to see Garwood. So far +he had nothing to report except the usual number of false alarms. +From his office I went up to the Star where fortunately I found +one of the reporters who wrote society notes. + +The Blakes, I found, as we already knew, to be well known and +moving in the highest social circles. As far as known they had no +particular enemies, other than those common to all people of great +wealth. Dr. Wilson had a large practice, built up in recent years, +and was one of the best known society physicians for women. Miss +Sears was unknown, as far as I could determine. As for Duncan +Baldwin, I found that he had become acquainted with Reginald Blake +in college, that he came of no particular family and seemed to +have no great means, although he was very popular in the best +circles. In fact he had had, thanks to his friend, a rather +meteoric rise in society, though it was reported that he was +somewhat involved in debt as a result. + +I returned to the laboratory to find that Craig had taken out of a +cabinet a peculiar looking arrangement. It consisted of thirty-two +tubes, each about sixteen inches long, with S-turns, like a minute +radiator. It was altogether not over a cubic foot in size, and +enclosed in a glass cylinder. There were in it, perhaps, fifty +feet of tubes, a perfectly-closed tubular system which I noticed +Kennedy was keeping absolutely sterile in a germicidal solution of +some kind. + +Inside the tubes and surrounding them was a saline solution which +was kept at a uniform temperature by a special heating apparatus. + +Kennedy had placed the apparatus on the laboratory table and then +gently took the little dog from his basket and laid him beside it. +A few minutes later the poor little suffering Buster was +mercifully under the influence of an anesthetic. + +Quickly Craig worked. First he attached the end of one of the +tubes by means of a little cannula to the carotid artery of the +dog. Then the other was attached to the jugular vein. + +As he released the clamp which held the artery, the little dog's +feverishly beating heart spurted the arterial blood from the +carotid into the tubes holding the normal salt solution and that +pressure, in turn, pumped the salt solution which filled the tubes +into the jugular vein, thus replacing the arterial blood that had +poured into the tubes from the other end and maintaining the +normal hydrostatic conditions in the body circulation. The dog was +being kept alive, although perhaps a third of his blood was out of +his body. + +"You see," he said at length, after we had watched the process a +few minutes, "what I have here is in reality an artificial kidney. +It is a system that has been devised by several doctors at Johns +Hopkins. + +"If there is any toxin in the blood of this dog, the kidneys are +naturally endeavoring to eliminate it. Perhaps it is being +eliminated too slowly. In that case this arrangement which I have +here will aid them. We call it vividiffusion and it depends for +its action on the physical principle of osmosis, the passage of +substances of a certain kind through a porous membrane, such as +these tubes of celloidin. + +"Thus any substance, any poison that is dialyzable is diffused +into the surrounding salt solution and the blood is passed back +into the body, with no air in it, no infection, and without +alteration. Clotting is prevented by the injection of a harmless +substance derived from leeches, known as hirudin. I prevent the +loss of anything in the blood which I want retained by placing in +the salt solution around the tubes an amount of that substance +equal to that held in solution by the blood. Of course that does +not apply to the colloidal substances in the blood which would not +pass by osmosis under any circumstances. But by such adjustments I +can remove and study any desired substance in the blood, provided +it is capable of diffusion. In fact this little apparatus has been +found in practice to compare favorably with the kidneys themselves +in removing even a lethal dose of poison." + +I watched in amazement. He was actually cleaning the blood of the +dog and putting it back again, purified, into the little body. Far +from being cruel, as perhaps it might seem, it was in reality +probably the only method by which the animal could be saved, and +at the same time it was giving us a clue as to some elusive, +subtle substance used in the case. + +"Indeed," Kennedy went on reflectively, "this process can be kept +up for several hours without injury to the dog, though I do not +think that will be necessary to relieve the unwonted strain that +has been put upon his natural organs. Finally, at the close of the +operation, serious loss of blood is overcome by driving back the +greater part of it into his body, closing up the artery and vein, +and taking good care of the animal so that he will make a quick +recovery." + +For a long time I watched the fascinating process of seeing the +life blood coursing through the porous tubes in the salt solution, +while Kennedy gave his undivided attention to the success of the +delicate experiment. It was late when I left him, still at work +over Buster, and went up to our apartment to turn in, convinced +that nothing more would happen that night. + +The next morning, with characteristic energy, Craig was at work +early, examining the cultures he had made from the black spots on +the gelatine. + +By the look of perplexity on his face, I knew that he had +discovered something that instead of clearing the mystery up, +further deepened it. + +"What do you find?" I asked anxiously. + +"Walter," he exclaimed, laying aside the last of the slides which +he had been staining and looking at intently through the +microscope, "that stuff on the gelatine is entirely harmless. +There was nothing in it except common mold." + +For the moment I did not comprehend. "Mold?" I repeated. + +"Yes," he replied, "just common, ordinary mold such as grows on +the top of a jar of fruit or preserves when it is exposed to the +air." + +I stifled an exclamation of incredulity. It seemed impossible that +the deadly germ note should be harmless, in view of the events +that had followed its receipt. + +Just then the laboratory door was flung open and Reginald Blake, +pale and excited, entered. He had every mark of having been up all +night. + +"What's the matter?" asked Craig. + +"It's about my mother," he blurted out. "She seems to be getting +worse all the time. Miss Sears is alarmed, and Betty is almost ill +herself with worry. Dr. Wilson doesn't seem to know what it is +that affects her, and neither does the new nurse. Can you DO +something?" + +There was a tone of appeal in his voice that was not like the +self-sufficient Reginald of the day before. + +"Does there seem to be any immediate danger?" asked Kennedy. + +"Perhaps not--I can't say," he urged. "But she is gradually +getting worse instead of better." + +Kennedy thought a moment. "Has anything else happened?" he asked +slowly. + +"N-no. That's enough, isn't it?" + +"Indeed it is," replied Craig, trying to be reassuring. Then, +recollecting Betty, he added, "Reginald, go back and tell your +sister for me that she must positively make the greatest effort of +her life to control herself. Tell her that her mother needs her-- +needs her well and brave. I shall be up at the house immediately. +Do the best you can. I depend on you." + +Kennedy's words seemed to have a bracing effect on Reginald and a +few moments later he left, much calmer. + +"I hope I have given him something to do which will keep him from +mussing things up again," remarked Kennedy, mindful of Reginald's +former excursion into detective work. + +Meanwhile Craig plunged furiously into his study of the substances +he had isolated from the saline solution in which he had "washed" +the blood of the little Pekinese. + +"There's no use doing anything in the dark," he explained. "Until +we know what it is we are fighting we can't very well fight." + +For the moment I was overwhelmed by the impending tragedy that +seemed to be hanging over Mrs. Blake. The more I thought of it, +the more inexplicable became the discovery of the mold. + +"That is all very well about the mold on the gelatine strip in the +letter," I insisted at length. "But, Craig, there must be +something wrong somewhere. Mere molds could not have made Buster +so ill, and now the infection, or whatever it is, has spread to +Mrs. Blake herself. What have you found out by studying Buster?" + +He looked up from his close scrutiny of the material in one of the +test tubes which contained something he had recovered from the +saline solution of the diffusion apparatus. + +I could read on his face that whatever it was, it was serious. +"What is it?" I repeated almost breathlessly. + +"I suppose I might coin a word to describe it," he answered +slowly, measuring his phrases. "Perhaps it might be called +hyper-amino-acidemia." + +I puckered my eyes at the mouth-filling term Kennedy smiled. "It +would mean," he explained, "a great quantity of the amino-acids, +non-coagulable, nitrogenous compounds in the blood. You know the +indols, the phenols, and the amins are produced both by +putrefactive bacteria and by the process of metabolism, the +burning up of the tissues in the process of utilizing the energy +that means life. But under normal circumstances, the amins are not +present in the blood in any such quantities as I have discovered +by this new method of diffusion." + +He paused a moment, as if in deference to my inability to follow +him on such an abstruse topic, then resumed, "As far as I am able +to determine, this poison or toxin is an amin similar to that +secreted by certain cephalopods found in the neighborhood of +Naples. It is an aromatic amin. Smell it." + +I bent over and inhaled the peculiar odor. + +"Those creatures," he continued, "catch their prey by this highly +active poison secreted by the so-called salivary glands. Even a +little bit will kill a crab easily." + +I was following him now with intense interest, thinking of the +astuteness of a mind capable of thinking of such a poison. + +"Indeed, it is surprising," he resumed thoughtfully, "how many an +innocent substance can be changed by bacteria into a virulent +poison. In fact our poisons and our drugs are in many instances +the close relations of harmless compounds that represent the +intermediate steps in the daily process of metabolism." + +"Then," I put in, "the toxin was produced by germs, after all?" + +"I did not say that," he corrected. "It might have been. But I +find no germs in the blood of Buster. Nor did Dr. Wilson find any +in the blood smears which she took from Mrs. Blake." + +He seemed to have thrown the whole thing back again into the limbo +of the unexplainable, and I felt nonplussed. + +"The writer of that letter," he went on, waving the piece of +sterile platinum wire with which he had been transferring drops of +liquid in his search for germs, "was a much more skillful +bacteriologist than I thought, evidently. No, the trouble does not +seem to be from germs breathed in, or from germs at all--it is +from some kind of germ-free toxin that has been injected or +otherwise introduced." + +Vaguely now I began to appreciate the terrible significance of +what he had discovered. + +"But the letter?" I persisted mechanically. + +"The writer of that was quite as shrewd a psychologist as +bacteriologist," pursued Craig impressively. "He calculated the +moral effect of the letter, then of Buster's illness, and finally +of reaching Mrs. Blake herself." + +"You think Dr. Rae Wilson knows nothing of it yet?" I queried. + +Kennedy appeared to consider his answer carefully. Then he said +slowly: "Almost any doctor with a microscope and the faintest +trace of a scientific education could recognize disease germs +either naturally or feloniously implanted. But when it comes to +the detection of concentrated, filtered, germ-free toxins, almost +any scientist might be baffled. Walter," he concluded, "this is +not mere blackmail, although perhaps the visit of that woman to +the Prince Henry--a desperate thing in itself, although she did +get away by her quick thinking--perhaps that shows that these +people are ready to stop at nothing. No, it goes deeper than +blackmail." + +I stood aghast at the discovery of this new method of scientific +murder. The astute criminal, whoever he might be, had planned to +leave not even the slender clue that might be afforded by disease +germs. He was operating, not with disease itself, but with +something showing the ultimate effects, perhaps, of disease with +none of the preliminary symptoms, baffling even to the best of +physicians. + +I scarcely knew what to say. Before I realized it, however, Craig +was at last ready for the promised visit to Mrs. Blake. We went +together, carrying Buster, in his basket, not recovered, to be +sure, but a very different little animal from the dying creature +that had been sent to us at the laboratory. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE POISON BRACELET + + +We reached the Blake mansion and were promptly admitted. Miss +Betty, bearing up bravely under Reginald's reassurances, greeted +us before we were fairly inside the door, though she and her +brother were not able to conceal the fact that their mother was no +better. Miss Sears was out, for an airing, and the new nurse, Miss +Rogers, was in charge of the patient. + +"How do you feel, this morning?" inquired Kennedy as we entered +the sun-parlor, where Mrs. Blake had first received us. + +A single glance was enough to satisfy me of the seriousness of her +condition. She seemed to be in almost a stupor from which she +roused herself only with difficulty. It was as if some +overpowering toxin were gradually undermining her already weakened +constitution. + +She nodded recognition, but nothing further. + +Kennedy had set the dog basket down near her wheel-chair and she +caught sight of it. + +"Buster?" she murmured, raising her eyes. "Is--he--all right?" + +For answer, Craig simply raised the lid of the basket. Buster +already seemed to have recognized the voice of his mistress, and, +with an almost human instinct, to realize that though he himself +was still weak and ill, she needed encouragement. + +As Mrs. Blake stretched out her slender hand, drawn with pain, to +his silky head, he gave a little yelp of delight and his little +red tongue eagerly caressed her hand. + +It was as though the two understood each other. Although Mrs. +Blake, as yet, had no more idea what had happened to her pet, she +seemed to feel by some subtle means of thought transference that +the intelligent little animal was conveying to her a message of +hope. The caress, the sharp, joyous yelp, and the happy wagging of +the bushy tail seemed to brighten her up, at least for the moment, +almost as if she had received a new impetus. + +"Buster!" she exclaimed, overjoyed to get her pet back again in so +much improved condition. + +"I wouldn't exert myself too much, Mrs. Blake," cautioned Kennedy. + +"Were--were there any germs in the letter?" she asked, as Reginald +and Betty stood on the other side of the chair, much encouraged, +apparently, at this show of throwing off the lethargy that had +seized her. + +"Yes, but about as harmless as those would be on a piece of +cheese," Kennedy hastened. "But I--I feel so weak, so played out-- +and my head--" + +Her voice trailed off, a too evident reminder that her improvement +had been only momentary and prompted by the excitement of our +arrival. + +Betty bent down solicitously and made her more comfortable as only +one woman can make another. Kennedy, meanwhile, had been talking +to Miss Rogers, and I could see that he was secretly taking her +measure. + +"Has Dr. Wilson been here this morning?" I heard him ask. + +"Not yet," she replied. "But we expect her soon." + +"Professor Kennedy?" announced a servant. + +"Yes?" answered Craig. + +"There is someone on the telephone who wants to speak to you. He +said he had called the laboratory first and that they told him to +call you here." + +Kennedy hurried after the servant, while Betty and Reginald joined +me, waiting, for we seemed to feel that something was about to +happen. + +"One of the unofficial detectives has unearthed a clue," he +whispered to me a few moments later when he returned. "It was +Garwood." Then to the others he added, "A car, repainted, and with +the number changed, but otherwise answering the description of Dr. +Wilson's has been traced to the West Side. It is somewhere in the +neighborhood of a saloon and garage where drivers of taxicabs hang +out. Reginald, I wish you would come along with us." + +To Betty's unspoken question Craig hastened to add, "I don't think +there is any immediate danger. If there is any change--let me +know. I shall call up soon. And meanwhile," he lowered his voice +to impress the instruction on her, "don't leave your mother for a +moment--not for a moment," he emphasized. + +Reginald was ready and together we three set off to meet Garwood +at a subway station near the point where the car had been +reported. We had scarcely closed the front door, when we ran into +Duncan Baldwin, coming down the street, evidently bent on +inquiring how Mrs. Blake and Betty were. + +"Much better," reassured Kennedy. "Come on, Baldwin. We can't have +too many on whom we can rely on an expedition like this." + +"Like what?" he asked, evidently not comprehending. + +"There's a clue, they think, to that car of Dr. Wilson's," hastily +explained Reginald, linking his arm into that of his friend and +falling in behind us, as Craig hurried ahead. + +It did not take long to reach the subway, and as we waited for the +train, Craig remarked: "This is a pretty good example of how the +automobile is becoming one of the most dangerous of criminal +weapons. All one has to do nowadays, apparently, after committing +a crime, is to jump into a waiting car and breeze away, safe." + +We met Garwood and under his guidance picked our way westward from +the better known streets in the heart of the city, to a section +that was anything but prepossessing. + +The place which Garwood sought was a typical Raines Law hotel on a +corner, with a saloon on the first floor, and apparently the +requisite number of rooms above to give it a legal license. + +We had separated a little so that we would not attract undue +attention. Kennedy and I entered the swinging doors boldly, while +the others continued across to the other corner to wait with +Garwood and take in the situation. It was a strange expedition and +Reginald was fidgeting while Duncan seemed nervous. + +Among the group of chauffeurs lounging at the bar and in the back +room anyone who had ever had any dealings with the gangs of New +York might have recognized the faces of men whose pictures were in +the rogues' gallery and who were members of those various +aristocratic organizations of the underworld. + +Kennedy glanced about at the motley crowd. "This is a place where +you need only to be introduced properly," he whispered to me, "to +have any kind of crime committed for you." + +As we stood there, observing, without appearing to do so, through +an open window on the side street I could tell from the sounds +that there was a garage in the rear of the hotel. + +We were startled to hear a sudden uproar from the street. + +Garwood, impatient at our delay, had walked down past the garage +to reconnoiter. A car was being backed out hurriedly, and as it +turned and swung around the corner, his trained eye had recognized +it. + +Instantly he had reasoned that it was an attempt to make a +getaway, and had raised an alarm. + +Those nearest the door piled out, keen for any excitement. We, +too, dashed out on the street. There we saw passing an automobile, +swaying and lurching at the terrific speed with which its driver, +urged it up the avenue. As he flashed by he looked like an Italian +to me, perhaps a gunman. + +Garwood had impressed a passing trolley car into service and was +pursuing the automobile in it, as it swayed on its tracks as +crazily as the motor did on the roadway, running with all the +power the motorman could apply. + +A mounted policeman galloped past us, blazing away at the tires. +The avenue was stirred, as seldom even in its strenuous life, with +reports of shots, honking of horns, the clang of trolley bells and +the shouts of men. + +The pursuers were losing when there came a rattle and roar from +the rear wheels which told that the tires were punctured and the +heavy car was riding on its rims. A huge brewery wagon crossing a +side street paused to see the fun, effectually blocking the road. + +The car jolted to a stop. The chauffeur leaped out and a moment +later dived down into a cellar. In that congested district, +pursuit was useless. + +"Only an accomplice," commented Kennedy. "Perhaps we can get him +some other way if we can catch the man--or woman--higher up." + +Down the street now we could see Garwood surrounded by a curious +crowd but in possession of the car. I looked about for Duncan and +Reginald. They had apparently been swallowed up in the crowds of +idlers which seemed to be pouring out of nowhere, collecting to +gape at the excitement, after the manner of a New York crowd. + +As I ran my eye over them, I caught sight of Reginald near the +corner where we had left him in an incipient fight with someone +who had a fancied grievance. A moment later we had rescued him. + +"Where's Duncan?" he panted. "Did anything happen to him? Garwood +told us to stay here--but we got separated." + +Policemen had appeared on the heels of the crowd and now, except +for a knot following Garwood, things seemed to be calming down. + +The excitement over, and the people thinning out, Kennedy still +could not find any trace of Duncan. Finally he glanced in again +through the swinging doors. There was Duncan, evidently quite +upset by what had occurred, fortifying himself at the bar. + +Suddenly from above came a heavy thud, as if someone had fallen on +the floor above us, followed by a suppressed shuffling of feet and +a cry of help. + +Kennedy sprang toward a side door which led out into the hall to +the hotel room above. It was locked. Before any of the others he +ran out on the street and into the hall that way, taking the +stairs two at a time, past a little cubby-hole of an "office" and +down the upper hall to a door from which came the cry. + +It was a peculiar room into which we burst, half bedroom, half +workshop, or rather laboratory, for on a deal table by a window +stood a rack of test-tubes, several beakers, and other +paraphernalia. + +A chambermaid was shrieking over a woman who was lying lethargic +on the floor. + +I looked more closely. + +It was Dora Sears. + +For the moment I could not imagine what had happened. Had the +events of the past few days worked on her mind and driven her into +temporary insanity? Or had the blackmailing gang of automobile +thieves, failing in extorting money by their original plan, seized +her? + +Kennedy bent over and tried to lift her up. As he did so, the gold +bracelet, unclasped, clattered to the floor. + +He picked it up and for a moment looked at it. It was hollow, but +in that part of it where it unclasped could be seen a minute +hypodermic needle and traces of a liquid. + +"A poison bracelet," he muttered to himself, "one in which enough +of a virulent poison could be hidden so that in an emergency death +could cheat the law." + +"But this Dr. Hopf," exclaimed Reginald, who stood behind us +looking from the insensible girl to the bracelet and slowly +comprehending what it all meant, "she alone knows where and who he +is!" + +We looked at Kennedy. What was to be done? Was the criminal higher +up to escape because one of his tools had been cornered and had +taken the easiest way to get out? + +Kennedy had taken down the receiver of the wall telephone in the +room. A moment later he was calling insistently for his +laboratory. One of the students in another part of the building +answered. Quickly he described the apparatus for vividiffusion and +how to handle it without rupturing any of the delicate tubes. + +"The large one," he ordered, "with one hundred and ninety-two +tubes. And hurry." + +Before the student appeared, came an ambulance which some one in +the excitement had summoned. Kennedy quickly commandeered both the +young doctor and what surgical material he had with him. + +Briefly he explained what he proposed to do and before the student +arrived with the apparatus, they had placed the nurse in such a +position that they were ready for the operation. + +The next room which was unoccupied had been thrown open to us and +there I waited with Reginald and Duncan, endeavoring to explain to +them the mysteries of the new process of washing the blood. + +The minutes lengthened into hours, as the blood of the poisoned +girl coursed through its artificial channel, literally being +washed of the toxin from the poisoned bracelet. + +Would it succeed? It had saved the life of Buster. But would it +bring back the unfortunate before us, long enough even for her to +yield her secret and enable us to catch the real criminal. What if +she died? + +As Kennedy worked, the young men with me became more and more +fascinated, watching him. The vividiffusion apparatus was now in +full operation. + +In the intervals when he left the apparatus in charge of the young +ambulance surgeon Kennedy was looking over the room. In a trunk +which was open he found several bundles of papers. As he ran his +eye over them quickly, he selected some and stuffed them into his +pocket, then went back to watch the working of the apparatus. + +Reginald, who had been growing more and more nervous, at last +asked if he might call up Betty to find out how his mother was. + +He came back from the telephone, his face wrinkled. + +"Poor mother," he remarked anxiously, "do you think she will pull +through, Professor? Betty says that Dr. Wilson has given her no +idea yet about the nature of the trouble." + +Kennedy thought a moment. "Of course," he said, "your mother has +had no such relative amount of the poison as Buster has had. I +think that undoubtedly she will recover by purely natural means. I +hope so. But if not, here is the apparatus," and he patted the +vividiffusion tubes in their glass case, "that will save her, +too." + +As well as I could I explained to Reginald the nature of the toxin +that Kennedy had discovered. Duncan listened, putting in a +question now and then. But it was evident that his thoughts were +on something else, and now and then Reginald, breaking into his +old humor, rallied him about thinking of Betty. + +A low exclamation from both Kennedy and the surgeon attracted us. + +Dora Sears had moved. + +The operation of the apparatus was stopped, the artery and vein +had been joined up, and she was slowly coming out from under the +effects of the anesthetic. + +As we gathered about her, at a little distance, we heard her cry +in her delirium, "I--I would have--done--anything--for him." + +We strained our ears. Was she talking of the blackmailer, Dr. +Hopf? + +"Who?" asked Craig, bending over close to her ear. + +"I--I would--have done anything," she repeated as if someone had +contradicted her. She went on, dreamily, ramblingly, "He--is--is-- +my brother. I--" + +She stopped through weakness. + +"Where is Dr. Hopf?" asked Kennedy, trying to recall her fleeting +attention. + +"Dr. Hopf? Dr. Hopf?" she repeated, then smiling to herself as +people will when they are leaving the borderline of anesthesia, +she repeated the name, "Hopf?" + +"Yes," persisted Kennedy. + +"There is no Dr. Hopf," she added. "Tell me--did--did they--" + +"No Dr. Hopf?" Kennedy insisted. + +She had lapsed again into half insensibility. + +He rose and faced us, speaking rapidly. + +"New York seems to have a mysterious and uncanny attraction for +odds and ends of humanity, among them the great army of +adventuresses. In fact there often seems to be something decidedly +adventurous about the nursing profession. This is a girl of +unusual education in medicine. Evidently she has traveled--her +letters show it. Many of them show that she has been in Italy. +Perhaps it was there that she heard of the drug that has been used +in this case. It was she who injected the germ-free toxin, first +into the dog, then into Mrs. Blake, she who wrote the blackmail +letter which was to have explained the death." + +He paused. Evidently she had heard dimly, was straining every +effort to hear. In her effort she caught sight of our faces. + +Suddenly, as if she had seen an apparition, she raised herself +with almost superhuman strength. + +"Duncan!" she cried. "Duncan! Why--didn't you--get away--while +there was time--after you warned me?" + +Kennedy had wheeled about and was facing us. He was holding in his +hand some of the letters he had taken from the trunk. Among others +was a folded piece of parchment that looked like a diploma. He +unfolded it and we bent over to read. + +It was a diploma from the Central Western College of Nursing. As I +read the name written in, it was with a shock. It was not Dora +Sears, but Dora Baldwin. + +"A very clever plot," he ground out, taking a step nearer us. +"With the aid of your sister and a disreputable gang of chauffeurs +you planned to hasten the death of Mrs. Blake, to hasten the +inheritance of the Blake fortune by your future wife. I think your +creditors will have less chance of collecting now than ever, +Duncan Baldwin." + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +THE DEVIL WORSHIPERS + + +Tragic though the end of the young nurse, Dora Baldwin, had been, +the scheme of her brother, in which she had become fatally +involved, was by no means as diabolical as that in the case that +confronted us a short time after that. + +I recall this case particularly not only because it was so weird +but also because of the unique manner in which it began. + +"I am damned--Professor Kennedy--damned!" + +The words rang out as the cry of a lost soul. A terrible look of +inexpressible anguish and fear was written on the face of Craig's +visitor, as she uttered them and sank back, trembling, in the easy +chair, mentally and physically convulsed. + +As nearly as I had been able to follow, Mrs. Veda Blair's story +had dealt mostly with a Professor and Madame Rapport and something +she called the "Red Lodge" of the "Temple of the Occult." + +She was not exactly a young woman, although she was a very +attractive one. She was of an age that is, perhaps, even more +interesting than youth. + +Veda Blair, I knew, had been, before her recent marriage to Seward +Blair, a Treacy, of an old, though somewhat unfortunate, family. +Both the Blairs and the Treacys had been intimate and old Seward +Blair, when he died about a year before, had left his fortune to +his son on the condition that he marry Veda Treacy. + +"Sometimes," faltered Mrs. Blair, "it is as though I had two +souls. One of them is dispossessed of its body and the use of its +organs and is frantic at the sight of the other that has crept +in." + +She ended her rambling story, sobbing the terrible words, "Oh--I +have committed the unpardonable sin--I am anathema--I am damned-- +damned!" + +She said nothing of what terrible thing she had done and Kennedy, +for the present, did not try to lead the conversation. But of all +the stories that I have heard poured forth in the confessional of +the detective's office, hers, I think, was the wildest. + +Was she insane? At least I felt that she was sincere. Still, I +wondered what sort of hallucination Craig had to deal with, as +Veda Blair repeated the incoherent tale of her spiritual vagaries. + +Almost, I had begun to fancy that this was a case for a doctor, +not for a detective, when suddenly she asked a most peculiar +question. + +"Can people affect you for good or evil, merely by thinking about +you?" she queried. Then a shudder passed over her. "They may be +thinking about me now!" she murmured in terror. + +Her fear was so real and her physical distress so evident that +Kennedy, who had been listening silently for the most part, rose +and hastened to reassure her. + +"Not unless you make your own fears affect yourself and so play +into their hands," he said earnestly. + +Veda looked at him a moment, then shook her head mournfully. "I +have seen Dr. Vaughn," she said slowly. + +Dr. Gilbert Vaughn, I recollected, was a well-known alienist in +the city. + +"He tried to tell me the same thing," she resumed doubtfully. +"But--oh--I know what I know! I have felt the death thought--and +he knows it!" + +"What do you mean?" inquired Kennedy, leaning forward keenly. + +"The death thought," she repeated, "a malicious psychic attack. +Some one is driving me to death by it. I thought I could fight it +off. I went away to escape it. Now I have come back--and I have +not escaped. There is always that disturbing influence--always-- +directed against me. I know it will--kill me!" + +I listened, startled. The death thought! What did it mean? What +terrible power was it? Was it hypnotism? What was this fearsome, +cruel belief, this modern witchcraft that could unnerve a rich and +educated woman? Surely, after all, I felt that this was not a case +for a doctor alone; it called for a detective. + +"You see," she went on, heroically trying to control herself, "I +have always been interested in the mysterious, the strange, the +occult. In fact my father and my husband's father met through +their common interest. So, you see, I come naturally by it. + +"Not long ago I heard of Professor and Madame Rapport and their +new Temple of the Occult. I went to it, and later Seward became +interested, too. We have been taken into a sort of inner circle," +she continued fearfully, as though there were some evil power in +the very words themselves, "the Red Lodge." + +"You have told Dr. Vaughn?" shot out Kennedy suddenly, his eyes +fixed on her face to see what it would betray. + +Veda leaned forward, as if to tell a secret, then whispered in a +low voice, "He knows. Like us--he--he is a--Devil Worshiper!" + +"What?" exclaimed Kennedy in wide-eyed astonishment. + +"A Devil Worshiper," she repeated. "You haven't heard of the Red +Lodge?" + +Kennedy nodded negatively. "Could you get us--initiated?" he +hazarded. + +"P--perhaps," she hesitated, in a half-frightened tone. "I--I'll +try to get you in to-night." + +She had risen, half dazed, as if her own temerity overwhelmed her. + +"You--poor girl," blurted out Kennedy, his sympathies getting the +upper hand for the moment as he took the hand she extended mutely. +"Trust me. I will do all in my power, all in the power of modern +science to help you fight off this--influence." + +There must have been something magnetic, hypnotic in his eye. + +"I will stop here for you," she murmured, as she almost fled from +the room. + +Personally, I cannot say that I liked the idea of spying. It is +not usually clean and wholesome. But I realized that occasionally +it was necessary. + +"We are in for it now," remarked Kennedy half humorously, half +seriously, "to see the Devil in the twentieth century." + +"And I," I added, "I am, I suppose, to be the reporter to Satan." + +We said nothing more about it, but I thought much about it, and +the more I thought, the more incomprehensible the thing seemed. I +had heard of Devil Worship, but had always associated it with far- +off Indian and other heathen lands--in fact never among Caucasians +in modern times, except possibly in Paris. Was there such a cult +here in my own city? I felt skeptical. + +That night, however, promptly at the appointed time, a cab called +for us, and in it was Veda Blair, nervous but determined. + +"Seward has gone ahead," she explained. "I told him that a friend +had introduced you, that you had studied the occult abroad. I +trust you to carry it out." + +Kennedy reassured her. + +The curtains were drawn and we could see nothing outside, though +we must have been driven several miles, far out into the suburbs. + +At last the cab stopped. As we left it we could see nothing of the +building, for the cab had entered a closed courtyard. + +"Who enters the Red Lodge?" challenged a sepulchral voice at the +porte-cochere. "Give the password!" + +"The Serpent's Tooth," Veda answered. + +"Who are these?" asked the voice. + +"Neophytes," she replied, and a whispered parley followed. + +"Then enter!" announced the voice at length. + +It was a large room into which we were first ushered, to be +inducted into the rites of Satan. + +There seemed to be both men and women, perhaps half a dozen +votaries. Seward Blair was already present. As I met him, I did +not like the look in his eye; it was too stary. Dr. Vaughn was +there, too, talking in a low tone to Madame Rapport. He shot a +quick look at us. His were not eyes but gimlets that tried to bore +into your very soul. Chatting with Seward Blair was a Mrs. +Langhorne, a very beautiful woman. To-night she seemed to be +unnaturally excited. + +All seemed to be on most intimate terms, and, as we waited a few +minutes, I could not help recalling a sentence from Huysmans: "The +worship of the Devil is no more insane than the worship of God. +The worshipers of Satan are mystics--mystics of an unclean sort, +it is true, but mystics none the less." + +I did not agree with it, and did not repeat it, of course, but a +moment later I overheard Dr. Vaughn saying to Kennedy: "Hoffman +brought the Devil into modern life. Poe forgoes the aid of demons +and works patiently and precisely by the scientific method. But +the result is the same." + +"Yes," agreed Kennedy for the sake of appearances, "in a sense, I +suppose, we are all devil worshipers in modern society--always +have been. It is fear that rules and we fear the bad--not the +good." + +As we waited, I felt, more and more, the sense of the mysterious, +the secret, the unknown which have always exercised a powerful +attraction on the human mind. Even the aeroplane and the +submarine, the X-ray and wireless have not banished the occult. + +In it, I felt, there was fascination for the frivolous and deep +appeal to the intellectual and spiritual. The Temple of the Occult +had evidently been designed to appeal to both types. I wondered +how, like Lucifer, it had fallen. The prime requisite, I could +guess already, however, was--money. Was it in its worship of the +root of all evil that it had fallen? + +We passed soon into another room, hung entirely in red, with +weird, cabalistic signs all about, on the walls. It was uncanny, +creepy. + +A huge reproduction in plaster of one of the most sardonic of +Notre Dame's gargoyles seemed to preside over everything--a +terrible figure in such an atmosphere. + +As we entered, we were struck by the blinding glare of the light, +in contrast with the darkened room in which we had passed our +brief novitiate, if it might be called such. + +Suddenly the lights were extinguished. + +The great gargoyle shone with an infernal light of its own! + +"Phosphorescent paint," whispered Kennedy to me. + +Still, it did not detract from the weird effect to know what +caused it. + +There was a startling noise in the general hush. + +"Sata!" cried one of the devotees. + +A door opened and there appeared the veritable priest of the +Devil--pale of face, nose sharp, mouth bitter, eyes glassy. + +"That is Rapport," Vaughn whispered to me. + +The worshipers crowded forward. + +Without a word, he raised his long, lean forefinger and began to +single them out impressively. As he did so, each spoke, as if +imploring aid. + +He came to Mrs. Langhorne. + +"I have tried the charm," she cried earnestly, "and the one whom I +love still hates me, while the one I hate loves me!" + +"Concentrate!" replied the priest, "concentrate! Think always 'I +love him. He must love me. I want him to love me. I love him. He +must love me.' Over and over again you must think it. Then the +other side, 'I hate him. He must leave me. I want him to leave me. +I hate him--hate him.'" + +Around the circle he went. + +At last his lean finger was outstretched at Veda. It seemed as if +some imp of the perverse were compelling her unwilling tongue to +unlock its secrets. + +"Sometimes," she cried in a low, tremulous voice, "something seems +to seize me, as if by the hand and urge me onward. I cannot flee +from it." + +"Defend yourself!" answered the priest subtly. "When you know that +some one is trying to kill you mentally, defend yourself! Work +against it by every means in your power. Discourage! Intimidate! +Destroy!" + +I marveled at these cryptic utterances. They shadowed a modern +Black Art, of which I had had no conception--a recrudescence in +other language of the age-old dualism of good and evil. It was a +sort of mental malpractice. + +"Over and over again," he went on speaking to her, "the same +thought is to be repeated against an enemy. 'You know you are +going to die! You know you are going to die!' Do it an hour, two +hours, at a time. Others can help you, all thinking in unison the +same thought." + +What was this, I asked myself breathlessly--a new transcendental +toxicology? + +Slowly, a strange mephitic vapor seemed to exhale into the room-- +or was it my heightened imagination? + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +THE PSYCHIC CURSE + + +There came a sudden noise--nameless--striking terror, low, +rattling. I stood rooted to the spot. What was it that held me? +Was it an atavistic joy in the horrible or was it merely a +blasphemous curiosity? + +I scarcely dared to look. + +At last I raised my eyes. There was a live snake, upraised, his +fangs striking out viciously--a rattler! + +I would have drawn back and fled, but Craig caught my arm. + +"Caged," he whispered monosyllabically. + +I shuddered. This, at least, was no drawing-room diablerie. + +"It is Ophis," intoned Rapport, "the Serpent--the one active form +in Nature that cannot be ungraceful!" + +The appearance of the basilisk seemed to heighten the tension. + +At last it broke loose and then followed the most terrible +blasphemies. The disciples, now all frenzied, surrounded closer +the priest, the gargoyle and the serpent. + +They worshiped with howls and obscenities. Mad laughter mingled +with pale fear and wild scorn in turns were written on the hectic +faces about me. + +They had risen--it became a dance, a reel. + +The votaries seemed to spin about on their axes, as it were, +uttering a low, moaning chant as they whirled. It was a mania, the +spirit of demonism. Something unseen seemed to urge them on. + +Disgusted and stifled at the surcharged atmosphere, I would have +tried to leave, but I seemed frozen to the spot. I could think of +nothing except Poe's Masque of the Red Death. + +Above all the rest whirled Seward Blair himself. The laugh of the +fiend, for the moment, was in his mouth. An instant he stood--the +oracle of the Demon--devil-possessed. Around whirled the frantic +devotees, howling. + +Shrilly he cried, "The Devil is in me!" + +Forward staggered the devil dancer--tall, haggard, with deep +sunken eyes and matted hair, face now smeared with dirt and blood- +red with the reflection of the strange, unearthly phosphorescence. + +He reeled slowly through the crowd, crooning a quatrain, in a low, +monotonous voice, his eyelids drooping and his head forward on his +breast: + + If the Red Slayer think he slays, + Or the slain think he is slain, + They know not well the subtle ways + I keep and pass and turn again! + +Entranced the whirling crowd paused and watched. One of their +number had received the "power." + +He was swaying slowly to and fro. + +"Look!" whispered Kennedy. + +His fingers twitched, his head wagged uncannily. Perspiration +seemed to ooze from every pore. His breast heaved. + +He gave a sudden yell--ear-piercing. Then followed a screech of +hellish laughter. + +The dance had ended, the dancers spellbound at the sight. + +He was whirling slowly, eyes protruding now, mouth foaming, chest +rising and falling like a bellows, muscles quivering. + +Cries, vows, imprecations, prayers, all blended in an infernal +hubbub. + +With a burst of ghastly, guttural laughter, he shrieked, "I AM the +Devil!" + +His arms waved--cutting, sawing, hacking the air. + +The votaries, trembling, scarcely moved, breathed, as he danced. + +Suddenly he gave a great leap into the air--then fell, motionless. +They crowded around him. The fiendish look was gone--the demoniac +laughter stilled. + +It was over. + +The tension of the orgy had been too much for us. We parted, with +scarcely a word, and yet I could feel that among the rest there +was a sort of unholy companionship. + +Silently, Kennedy and I drove away in the darkened cab, this time +with Seward and Veda Blair and Mrs. Langhorne. + +For several minutes not a word was said. I was, however, much +occupied in watching the two women. It was not because of anything +they said or did. That was not necessary. But I felt that there +was a feud, something that set them against each other. + +"How would Rapport use the death thought, I wonder?" asked Craig +speculatively, breaking the silence. + +Blair answered quickly. "Suppose some one tried to break away, to +renounce the Lodge, expose its secrets. They would treat him so as +to make him harmless--perhaps insane, confused, afraid to talk, +paralyzed, or even to commit suicide or be killed in an accident. +They would put the death thought on him!" + +Even in the prosaic jolting of the cab, away from the terrible +mysteries of the Red Lodge, one could feel the spell. + +The cab stopped. Seward was on his feet in a moment and handing +Mrs. Langhorne out at her home. For a moment they paused on the +steps for an exchange of words. + +In that moment I caught flitting over the face of Veda a look of +hatred, more intense, more real, more awful than any that had been +induced under the mysteries of the rites at the Lodge. + +It was gone in an instant, and as Seward rejoined us I felt that, +with Mrs. Langhorne gone, there was less restraint. I wondered +whether it was she who had inspired the fear in Veda. + +Although it was more comfortable, the rest of our journey was made +in silence and the Blairs dropped us at our apartment with many +expressions of cordiality as we left them to proceed to their own. + +"Of one thing I'm sure," I remarked, entering the room where only +a few short hours before Mrs. Blair had related her strange tale. +"Whatever the cause of it, the devil dancers don't sham." + +Kennedy did not reply. He was apparently wrapped up in the +consideration of the remarkable events of the evening. + +As for myself, it was a state of affairs which, the day before, I +should have pronounced utterly beyond the wildest bounds of the +imagination of the most colorful writer. Yet here it was; I had +seen it. + +I glanced up to find Kennedy standing by the light examining +something he had apparently picked up at the Red Lodge. I bent +over to look at it, too. It was a little glass tube. + +"An ampoule, I believe the technical name of such a container is," +he remarked, holding it closer to the light. + +In it were the remains of a dried yellow substance, broken up +minutely, resembling crystals. + +"Who dropped it?" I asked. + +"Vaughn, I think," he replied. "At least, I saw him near Blair, +stooping over him, at the end, and I imagine this is what I saw +gleaming for an instant in the light." + +Kennedy said nothing more, and for my part I was thoroughly at sea +and could make nothing out of it all. + +"What object can such a man as Dr. Vaughn possibly have in +frequenting such a place?" I asked at length, adding, "And there's +that Mrs. Langhorne--she was interesting, too." + +Kennedy made no direct reply. "I shall have them shadowed to- +morrow," he said briefly, "while I am at work in the laboratory +over this ampoule." + +As usual, also, Craig had begun on his scientific studies long +before I was able to shake myself loose from the nightmares that +haunted me after our weird experience of the evening. + +He had already given the order to an agency for the shadowing, and +his next move was to start me out, also, looking into the history +of those concerned in the case. As far as I was able to determine, +Dr. Vaughn had an excellent reputation, and I could find no reason +whatever for his connection with anything of the nature of the Red +Lodge. The Rapports seemed to be nearly unknown in New York, +although it was reported that they had come from Paris lately. +Mrs. Langhorne was a divorcee from one of the western states, but +little was known about her, except that she always seemed to be +well supplied with money. It seemed to be well known in the circle +in which Seward Blair moved that he was friendly with her, and I +had about reached the conclusion that she was unscrupulously +making use of his friendship, perhaps was not above such a thing +as blackmail. + +Thus the day passed, and we heard no word from Veda Blair, +although that was explained by the shadows, whose trails crossed +in a most unexpected manner. Their reports showed that there was a +meeting at the Red Lodge during the late afternoon, at which all +had been present except Dr. Vaughn. We learned also from them the +exact location of the Lodge, in an old house just across the line +in Westchester. + +It was evidently a long and troublesome analysis that Craig was +engaged in at the laboratory, for it was some hours after dinner +that night when he came into the apartment, and even then he said +nothing, but buried himself in some of the technical works with +which his library was stocked. He said little, but I gathered that +he was in great doubt about something, perhaps, as much as +anything, about how to proceed with so peculiar a case. + +It was growing late, and Kennedy was still steeped in his books, +when the door of the apartment, which we happened to have left +unlocked, was suddenly thrown open and Seward Blair burst in on +us, wildly excited. + +"Veda is gone!" he cried, before either of us could ask him what +was the matter. + +"Gone?" repeated Kennedy. "How--where?" + +"I don't know," Blair blurted out breathlessly. "We had been out +together this afternoon, and I returned with her. Then I went out +to the club after dinner for a while, and when I got back I missed +her--not quarter of an hour ago. I burst into her room--and there +I found this note. Read it. I don't know what to do. No one seems +to know what has become of her. I've called up all over and then +thought perhaps you might help me, might know some friend of hers +that I don't know, with whom she might have gone out." + +Blair was plainly eager for us to help him. Kennedy took the paper +from him. On it, in a trembling hand, were scrawled some words, +evidently addressed to Blair himself: + +"You would forgive me and pity me if you knew what I have been +through. + +"When I refused to yield my will to the will of the Lodge I +suppose I aroused the enmity of the Lodge. + +"To-night as I lay in bed, alone, I felt that my hour had come, +that mental forces that were almost irresistible were being +directed against me. + +"I realized that I must fight not only for my sanity but for my +life. + +"For hours I have fought that fight. + +"But during those hours, some one, I won't say who, seemed to have +developed such psychic faculties of penetration that they were +able to make their bodies pass through the walls of my room. + +"At last I am conquered. I pray that you--" + +The writing broke off abruptly, as if she had left it in wild +flight. + +"What does that mean?" asked Kennedy, "the 'will of the Lodge'?" + +Blair looked at us keenly. I fancied that there was even something +accusatory in the look. "Perhaps it was some mental reservation on +her part," he suggested. "You do not know yourself of any reason +why she should fear anything, do you?" he asked pointedly. + +Kennedy did not betray even by the motion of an eyelash that we +knew more than we should ostensibly. + +There was a tap at the door. I sprang to open it, thinking +perhaps, after all, it was Veda herself. + +Instead, a man, a stranger, stood there. + +"Is this Professor Kennedy?" he asked, touching his hat. + +Craig nodded. + +"I am from the psychopathic ward of the City Hospital--an orderly, +sir," the man introduced. + +"Yes," encouraged Craig, "what can I do for you?" + +"A Mrs. Blair has just been brought in, sir, and we can't find her +husband. She's calling for you now." + +Kennedy stared from the orderly to Seward Blair, startled, +speechless. + +"What has happened?" asked Blair anxiously. "I am Mr. Blair." + +The orderly shook his head. He had delivered his message. That was +all he knew. + +"What do you suppose it is?" I asked, as we sped across town in a +taxicab. "Is it the curse that she dreaded?" + +Kennedy said nothing and Blair appeared to hear nothing. His face +was drawn in tense lines. + +The psychopathic ward is at once one of the most interesting and +one of the most depressing departments of a large city hospital, +harboring, as it does, all from the more or less harmless insane +to violent alcoholics and wrecked drug fiends. + +Mrs. Blair, we learned, had been found hatless, without money, +dazed, having fallen, after an apparently aimless wandering in the +streets. + +For the moment she lay exhausted on the white bed of the ward, +eyes glazed, pupils contracted, pulse now quick, now almost +evanescent, face drawn, breathing difficult, moaning now and then +in physical and mental agony. + +Until she spoke it was impossible to tell what had happened, but +the ambulance surgeon had found a little red mark on her white +forearm and had pointed it out, evidently with the idea that she +was suffering from a drug. + +At the mere sight of the mark, Blair stared as though hypnotized. +Leaning over to Kennedy, so that the others could not hear, he +whispered, "It is the mark of the serpent!" + +Our arrival had been announced to the hospital physician, who +entered and stood for a moment looking at the patient. + +"I think it is a drug--a poison," he said meditatively. + +"You haven't found out yet what it is, then?" asked Craig. + +The physician shook his head doubtfully. "Whatever it is," he said +slowly, "it is closely allied to the cyanide groups in its +rapacious activity. I haven't the slightest idea of its true +nature, but it seems to have a powerful affinity for important +nerve centers of respiration and muscular coordination, as well as +for disorganizing the blood. I should say that it produces death +by respiratory paralysis and convulsions. To my mind it is an +exact, though perhaps less active, counterpart of hydrocyanic +acid." + +Kennedy had been listening intently at the start, but before the +physician had finished he had bent over and made a ligature +quickly with his handkerchief. + +Then he dispatched a messenger with a note. Next he cut about the +minute wound on her arm until the blood flowed, cupping it to +increase the flow. Now and then he had them administer a little +stimulant. + +He had worked rapidly, while Blair watched him with a sort of +fascination. + +"Get Dr. Vaughn," ordered Craig, as soon as he had a breathing +spell after his quick work, adding, "and Professor and Madame +Rapport. Walter, attend to that, will you? I think you will find +an officer outside. You'll have to compel them to come, if they +won't come otherwise," he added, giving the address of the Lodge, +as we had found it. + +Blair shot a quick look at him, as though Craig in his knowledge +were uncanny. Apparently, the address had been a secret which he +thought we did not know. + +I managed to find an officer and dispatch him for the Rapports. A +hospital orderly, I thought, would serve to get Dr. Vaughn. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +THE SERPENT'S TOOTH + + +I had scarcely returned to the ward when, suddenly, an unnatural +strength seemed to be infused into Veda. + +She had risen in bed. + +"It shall not catch me!" she cried in a new paroxysm of nameless +terror. "No--no--it is pursuing me. I am never out of its grasp. I +have been thought six feet underground--I know it. There it is +again--still driving me--still driving me! + +"Will it never stop? Will no one stop it? Save me! It--is the +death thought!" + +She had risen convulsively and had drawn back in abject, cowering +terror. What was it she saw? Evidently it was very real and very +awful. It pursued her relentlessly. + +As she lay there, rolling her eyes about, she caught sight of us +and recognized us for the first time, although she had been +calling for us. + +"They had the thought on you, too, Professor Kennedy," she almost +screamed. "Hour after hour, Rapport and the rest repeated over and +over again, 'Why does not some one kill him? Why does he not die?' +They knew you--even when I brought you to the Red Lodge. They +thought you were a spy." + +I turned to Kennedy. He had advanced and was leaning over to catch +every word. Blair was standing behind me and she had not seen her +husband yet. A quick glance showed me that he was trembling from +head to foot like a leaf, as though he, too, were pursued by the +nameless terror. + +"What did they do?" Kennedy asked in a low tone. + +Fearfully, gripping the bars of the iron bed, as though they were +some tangible support for her mind, she answered: "They would get +together. 'Now, all of you,' they said, 'unite yourselves in +thought against our enemy, against Kennedy, that he must leave off +persecuting us. He is ripe for destruction!'" + +Kennedy glanced sidewise at me, with a significant look. + +"God grant," she implored, "that none haunt me for what I have +done in my ignorance!" + +Just then the door opened and my messenger entered, accompanied by +Dr. Vaughn. + +I had turned to catch the expression on Blair's face just in time. +It was a look of abject appeal. + +Before Dr. Vaughn could ask a question, or fairly take in the +situation, Kennedy had faced him. + +"What was the purpose of all that elaborate mummery out at the Red +Lodge?" asked Kennedy pointblank. + +I think I looked at Craig in no less amazement than Vaughn. In +spite of the dramatic scenes through which we had passed, the +spell of the occult had not fallen on him for an instant. + +"Mummery?" repeated Dr. Vaughn, bending his penetrating eyes on +Kennedy, as if he would force him to betray himself first. + +"Yes," reiterated Craig. "You know as well as I do that it has +been said that it is a well-established fact that the world wants +to be deceived and is willing to pay for the privilege." + +Dr. Vaughn still gazed from one to the other of us defiantly. + +"You know what I mean," persisted Kennedy, "the mumbo-jumbo--just +as the Haitian obi man sticks pins in a doll or melts a wax figure +of his enemy. That is supposed to be an outward sign. But back of +this terrible power that people believe moves in darkness and +mystery is something tangible--something real." + +Dr. Vaughn looked up sharply at him, I think mistaking Kennedy's +meaning. If he did, all doubt that Kennedy attributed anything to +the supernatural was removed as he went on: "At first I had no +explanation of the curious events I have just witnessed, and the +more I thought about them, the more obscure did they seem. + +"I have tried to reason the thing out," he continued thoughtfully. +"Did auto-suggestion, self-hypnotism explain what I have seen? Has +Veda Blair been driven almost to death by her own fears only?" + +No one interrupted and he answered his own question. "Somehow the +idea that it was purely fear that had driven her on did not +satisfy me. As I said, I wanted something more tangible. I could +not help thinking that it was not merely subjective. There was +something objective, some force at work, something more than +psychic in the result achieved by this criminal mental marauder, +whoever it is." + +I was following Kennedy's reasoning now closely. As he proceeded, +the point that he was making seemed more clear to me. + +Persons of a certain type of mind could be really mentally +unbalanced by such methods which we had heard outlined, where the +mere fact of another trying to exert power over them became known +to them. They would, as a matter of fact, unbalance themselves, +thinking about and fighting off imaginary terrors. + +Such people, I could readily see, might be quickly controlled, and +in the wake of such control would follow stifled love, wrecked +homes, ruined fortunes, suicide and even death. + +Dr. Vaughn leaned forward critically. "What did you conclude, +then, was the explanation of what you saw last night?" he asked +sharply. + +Kennedy met his question squarely, without flinching. "It looks to +me," he replied quietly, "like a sort of hystero-epilepsy. It is +well known, I believe, to demonologists--those who have studied +this sort of thing. They have recognized the contortions, the +screams, the wild, blasphemous talk, the cataleptic rigidity. They +are epileptiform." + +Vaughn said nothing, but continued to weigh Kennedy as if in a +balance. I, who knew him, knew that it would take a greater than +Vaughn to find him wanting, once Kennedy chose to speak. As for +Vaughn, was he trying to hide behind some technicality in medical +ethics? + +"Dr. Vaughn," continued Craig, as if goading him to the point of +breaking down his calm silence, "you are specialist enough to know +these things as well, better than I do. You must know that +epilepsy is one of the most peculiar diseases. + +"The victim may be in good physical condition, apparently. In +fact, some hardly know that they have it. But it is something more +than merely the fits. Always there is something wrong mentally. It +is not the motor disturbance so much as the disturbance of +consciousness." + +Kennedy was talking slowly, deliberately, so that none could drop +a link in the reasoning. + +"Perhaps one in ten epileptics has insane periods, more or less," +he went on, "and there is no more dangerous form of insanity. +Self-consciousness is lost, and in this state of automatism the +worst of crimes have been committed without the subsequent +knowledge of the patient. In that state they are no more +responsible than are the actors in one's dreams." + +The hospital physician entered, accompanied by Craig's messenger, +breathless. Craig almost seized the package from his hands and +broke the seal. + +"Ah--this is what I wanted," he exclaimed, with an air of relief, +forgetting for the time the exposition of the case that he was +engaged in. "Here I have some anti-crotalus venine, of Drs. +Flexner and Noguchi. Fortunately, in the city it is within easy +reach." + +Quickly, with the aid of the physician he injected it into Veda's +arm. + +"Of all substances in nature," he remarked, still at work over the +unfortunate woman, "none is so little known as the venom of +serpents." + +It was a startling idea which the sentence had raised in my mind. +All at once I recalled the first remark of Seward Blair, in which +he had repeated the password that had admitted us into the Red +Lodge--"the Serpent's Tooth." Could it have been that she had +really been bitten at some of the orgies by the serpent which they +worshiped hideously hissing in its cage? I was sure that, at least +until they were compelled, none would say anything about it. Was +that the interpretation of the almost hypnotized look on Blair's +face? + +"We know next to nothing of the composition of the protein bodies +in the venoms which have such terrific, quick physiological +effects," Kennedy was saying. "They have been studied, it is true, +but we cannot really say that they are understood--or even that +there are any adequate tests by which they can be recognized. The +fact is, that snake venoms are about the safest of poisons for the +criminal." + +Kennedy had scarcely propounded this startling idea when a car was +heard outside. The Rapports had arrived, with the officer I had +sent after them, protesting and threatening. + +They quieted down a bit as they entered, and after a quick glance +around saw who was present. + +Professor Rapport gave one glance at the victim lying exhausted on +the bed, then drew back, melodramatically, and cried, "The +Serpent--the mark of the serpent!" + +For a moment Kennedy gazed full in the eyes of them all. + +"WAS it a snake bite?" he asked slowly, then, turning to Mrs. +Blair, after a quick glance, he went on rapidly, "The first thing +to ascertain is whether the mark consists of two isolated +punctures, from the poison-conducting teeth or fangs of the snake, +which are constructed like a hypodermic needle." + +The hospital physician had bent over her at the words, and before +Kennedy could go on interrupted: "This was not a snake bite; it +was more likely from an all-glass hypodermic syringe with a +platinum-iridium needle." + +Professor Rapport, priest of the Devil, advanced a step menacingly +toward Kennedy. "Remember," he said in a low, angry tone, +"remember--you are pledged to keep the secrets of the Red Lodge!" + +Craig brushed aside the sophistry with a sentence. "I do not +recognize any secrets that I have to keep about the meeting this +afternoon to which you summoned the Blairs and Mrs. Langhorne, +according to reports from the shadows I had placed on Mrs. +Langhorne and Dr. Vaughn." + +If there is such a thing as the evil eye, Rapport's must have been +a pair of them, as he realized that Kennedy had resorted to the +simple devices of shadowing the devotees. + +A cry, almost a shriek, startled us. Kennedy's encounter with +Rapport had had an effect which none of us had considered. The +step or two in advance which the prophet had taken had brought him +into the line of vision of the still half-stupefied Veda lying +back of Kennedy on the hospital cot. + +The mere sight of him, the sound of his voice and the mention of +the Red Lodge had been sufficient to penetrate that stupor. She +was sitting bolt upright, a ghastly, trembling specter. Slowly a +smile seemed to creep over the cruel face of the mystic. Was it +not a recognition of his hypnotic power? + +Kennedy turned and laid a gentle hand on the quaking convulsed +figure of the woman. One could feel the electric tension in the +air, the battle of two powers for good or evil. Which would win-- +the old fascination of the occult or the new power of science? + +It was a dramatic moment. Yet not so dramatic as the outcome. To +my surprise, neither won. + +Suddenly she caught sight of her husband. Her face changed. All +the prehistoric jealousy of which woman is capable seemed to blaze +forth. + +"I will defend myself!" she cried. "I will fight back! She shall +not win--she shall not have you--no--she shall not--never!" + +I recalled the strained feeling between the two women that I had +noticed in the cab. Was it Mrs. Langhorne who had been the +disturbing influence, whose power she feared, over herself and +over her husband? + +Rapport had fallen back a step, but not from the mind of Kennedy. + +"Here," challenged Craig, facing the group and drawing from his +pocket the glass ampoule, "I picked this up at the Red Lodge last +night." + +He held it out in his hand before the Rapports so that they could +not help but see it. Were they merely good actors? They betrayed +nothing, at least by face or action. + +"It is crotalin," he announced, "the venom of the rattlesnake-- +crotalus horridus. It has been noticed that persons suffering from +certain diseases of which epilepsy is one, after having been +bitten by a rattlesnake, if they recover from the snake bite, are +cured of the disease." + +Kennedy was forging straight ahead now in his exposure. +"Crotalin," he continued, "is one of the new drugs used in the +treatment of epilepsy. But it is a powerful two-edged instrument. +Some one who knew the drug, who perhaps had used it, has tried an +artificial bite of a rattler on Veda Blair, not for epilepsy, but +for another, diabolical purpose, thinking to cover up the crime, +either as the result of the so-called death thought of the Lodge +or as the bite of the real rattler at the Lodge." + +Kennedy had at last got under Dr. Vaughn's guard. All his +reticence was gone. + +"I joined the cult," he confessed. "I did it in order to observe +and treat one of my patients for epilepsy. I justified myself. I +said, 'I will be the exposer, not the accomplice, of this modern +Satanism.' I joined it and--" + +"There is no use trying to shield anyone, Vaughn," rapped out +Kennedy, scarcely taking time to listen. "An epileptic of the most +dangerous criminal type has arranged this whole elaborate setting +as a plot to get rid of the wife who brought him his fortune and +now stands in the way of his unholy love of Mrs. Langhorne. He +used you to get the poison with which you treated him. He used the +Rapports with money to play on her mysticism by their so-called +death thought, while he watched his opportunity to inject the +fatal crotalin." + +Craig faced the criminal, whose eyes now showed more plainly than +words his deranged mental condition, and in a low tone added, "The +Devil is in you, Seward Blair!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +THE "HAPPY DUST" + + +Veda Blair's rescue from the strange use that was made of the +venom came at a time when the city was aroused as it never had +been before over the nation-wide agitation against drugs. + +Already, it will be recalled, Kennedy and I had had some recent +experience with dope fiends of various kinds, but this case I set +down because it drew us more intimately into the crusade. + +"I've called on you, Professor Kennedy, to see if I can't interest +you in the campaign I am planning against drugs." + +Mrs. Claydon Sutphen, social leader and suffragist, had scarcely +more than introduced herself when she launched earnestly into the +reason for her visit to us. + +"You don't realize it, perhaps," she continued rapidly, "but very +often a little silver bottle of tablets is as much a necessary to +some women of the smart set as cosmetics." + +"I've heard of such cases," nodded Craig encouragingly. + +"Well, you see I became interested in the subject," she added, +"when I saw some of my own friends going down. That's how I came +to plan the campaign in the first place." + +She paused, evidently nervous. "I've been threatened, too," she +went on, "but I'm not going to give up the fight. People think +that drugs are a curse only to the underworld, but they have no +idea what inroads the habit has made in the upper world, too. Oh, +it is awful!" she exclaimed. + +Suddenly, she leaned over and whispered, "Why, there's my own +sister, Mrs. Garrett. She began taking drugs after an operation, +and now they have a terrible hold on her. I needn't try to conceal +anything. It's all been published in the papers--everybody knows +it. Think of it--divorced, disgraced, all through these cursed +drugs! Dr. Coleman, our family physician, has done everything +known to break up the habit, but he hasn't succeeded." + +Dr. Coleman, I knew, was a famous society physician. If he had +failed, I wondered why she thought a detective might succeed. But +it was evidently another purpose she had in mind in introducing +the subject. + +"So you can understand what it all means to me, personally," she +resumed, with a sigh. "I've studied the thing--I've been forced to +study it. Why, now the exploiters are even making drug fiends of +mere--children!" + +Mrs. Sutphen spread out a crumpled sheet of note paper before us +on which was written something in a trembling scrawl. "For +instance, here's a letter I received only yesterday." + +Kennedy glanced over it carefully. It was signed "A Friend," and +read: + +"I have heard of your drug war in the newspapers and wish to help +you, only I don't dare to do so openly. But I can assure you that +if you will investigate what I am about to tell you, you will soon +be on the trail of those higher up in this terrible drug business. +There is a little center of the traffic on West 66th Street, just +off Broadway. I cannot tell you more, but if you can investigate +it, you will be doing more good than you can possibly realize now. +There is one girl there, whom they call 'Snowbird.' If you could +only get hold of her quietly and place her in a sanitarium you +might save her yet." + +Craig was more than ordinarily interested. "And the children--what +did you mean by that?" + +"Why, it's literally true," asserted Mrs. Sutphen in a horrified +tone. "Some of the victims are actually school children. Up there +in 66th Street we have found a man named Armstrong, who seems to +be very friendly with this young girl whom they call 'Snowbird.' +Her real name, by the way, is Sawtelle, I believe. She can't be +over eighteen, a mere child, yet she's a slave to the stuff." + +"Oh, then you have actually already acted on the hint in the +letter?" asked Craig. + +"Yes," she replied, "I've had one of the agents of our Anti-Drug +Society, a social worker, investigating the neighborhood." + +Kennedy nodded for her to go on. + +"I've even investigated myself a little, and now I want to employ +some one to break the thing up. My husband had heard of you and so +here I am. Can you help me?" + +There was a note of appeal in her voice that was irresistible to a +man who had the heart of Kennedy. + +"Tell me just what you have discovered so far," he asked simply. + +"Well," she replied slowly, "after my agent verified the contents +of the letter, I watched until I saw this girl--she's a mere +child, as I said--going to a cabaret in the neighborhood. What +struck me was that I saw her go in looking like a wreck and come +out a beautiful creature, with bright eyes, flushed cheeks, almost +youthful again. A most remarkable girl she is, too," mused Mrs. +Sutphen, "who always wears a white gown, white hat, white shoes +and white stockings. It must be a mania with her." + +Mrs. Sutphen seemed to have exhausted her small store of +information, and as she rose to go Kennedy rose also. "I shall be +glad to look into the case, Mrs. Sutphen," he promised. "I'm sure +there is something that can be done--there must be." + +"Thank you, ever so much," she murmured, as she paused at the +door, something still on her mind. "And perhaps, too," she added, +"you may run across my sister, Mrs. Garrett." + +"Indeed," he assured her, "if there is anything I can possibly do +that will assist you personally, I shall be only too happy to do +it." + +"Thank you again, ever so much," she repeated with just a little +choke in her voice. + +For several moments Kennedy sat contemplating the anonymous letter +which she had left with him, studying both its contents and the +handwriting. + +"We must go over the ground up there again," he remarked finally. +"Perhaps we can do better than Mrs. Sutphen and her drug +investigator have done." + +Half an hour later we had arrived and were sauntering along the +street in question, walking slowly up and down in the now fast- +gathering dusk. It was a typical cheap apartment block of +variegated character, with people sitting idly on the narrow front +steps and children spilling out into the roadway in imminent +danger of their young lives from every passing automobile. + +On the crowded sidewalk a creation in white hurtled past us. One +glance at the tense face in the flickering arc light was enough +for Kennedy. He pulled my arm and we turned and followed at a safe +distance. + +She looked like a girl who could not have been more than eighteen, +if she was as old as that. She was pretty, too, but already her +face was beginning to look old and worn from the use of drugs. It +was unmistakable. + +In spite of the fact that she was hurrying, it was not difficult +to follow her in the crowd, as she picked her way in and out, and +finally turned into Broadway where the white lights were welcoming +the night. + +Under the glare of a huge electric sign she stopped a moment, then +entered one of the most notorious of the cabarets. + +We entered also at a discreet distance and sat down at a table. + +"Don't look around, Walter," whispered Craig, as the waiter took +our order, "but to your right is Mrs. Sutphen." + +If he had mentioned any other name in the world, I could not have +been more surprised. I waited impatiently until I could pick her +out from the corner of my eye. Sure enough, it was Mrs. Sutphen +and another woman. What they were doing there I could not imagine, +for neither had the look of habitues of such a place. + +I followed Kennedy's eye and found that he was gazing furtively at +a flashily dressed young man who was sitting alone at the far end +in a sort of booth upholstered in leather. + +The girl in white, whom I was now sure was Miss Sawtelle, went +over and greeted him. It was too far to see just what happened, +but the young woman after sitting down rose and left almost +immediately. As nearly as I could make out, she had got something +from him which she had dropped into her handbag and was now +hugging the handbag close to herself almost as if it were gold. + +We sat for a few minutes debating just what to do, when Mrs. +Sutphen and her friend rose. As she passed out, a quick, covert +glance told us to follow. We did so and the two turned into +Broadway. + +"Let me present you to Miss McCann," introduced Mrs. Sutphen as we +caught up with them. "Miss McCann is a social worker and trained +investigator whom I'm employing." + +We bowed, but before we could ask a question, Mrs. Sutphen cried +excitedly: "I think I have a clue, anyway. We've traced the source +of the drugs at least as far as that young fellow, 'Whitecap,' +whom you saw in there." + +I had not recognized his face, although I had undoubtedly seen +pictures of him before. But no sooner had I heard the name than I +recognized it as that of one of the most notorious gang leaders on +the West Side. + +Not only that, but Whitecap's gang played an important part in +local politics. There was scarcely a form of crime or vice to +which Whitecap and his followers could not turn a skilled hand, +whether it was swinging an election, running a gambling club, or +dispensing "dope." + +"You see," she explained, "even before I saw you, my suspicions +were aroused and I determined to obtain some of the stuff they are +using up here, if possible. I realized it would be useless for me +to try to get it myself, so I got Miss McCann from the +Neighborhood House to try it. She got it and has turned the bottle +over to me." + +"May I see it?" asked Craig eagerly. + +Mrs. Sutphen reached hastily into her handbag, drew forth a small +brown glass bottle and handed it to him. Craig retreated into one +of the less dark side streets. There he pulled out the paraffinned +cork from the bottle, picked out a piece of cotton stuffed in the +neck of the bottle and poured out some flat tablets that showed a +glistening white in the palm of his hand. For an instant he +regarded them. + +"I may keep these?" he asked. + +"Certainly," replied Mrs. Sutphen. "That's what I had Miss McCann +get them for." + +Kennedy dropped the bottle into his pocket. + +"So that was the gang leader, 'Whitecap,'" he remarked as we +turned again to Broadway. + +"Yes," replied Mrs. Sutphen. "At certain hours, I believe he can +be found at that cabaret selling this stuff, whatever it is, to +anyone who comes properly introduced. The thing seems to be so +open and notorious that it amounts to a scandal." + +We parted a moment later, Mrs. Sutphen and Miss McCann to go to +the settlement house, Craig and I to continue our investigations. + +"First of all, Walter," he said as we swung aboard an uptown car, +"I want to stop at the laboratory." + +In his den, which had been the scene of so many triumphs, Kennedy +began a hasty examination of the tablets, powdering one and +testing it with one chemical after another. + +"What are they?" I asked at length when he seemed to have found +the right reaction which gave him the clue. + +"Happy dust," he answered briefly. + +"Happy dust?" I repeated, looking at him a moment in doubt as to +whether he was joking or serious. "What is that?" + +"The Tenderloin name for heroin--a comparatively new derivative of +morphine. It is really morphine treated with acetic acid which +renders it more powerful than morphine alone." + +"How do they take them? What's the effect?" I asked. + +"The person who uses heroin usually powders the tablets and snuffs +the powder up the nose," he answered. "In a short time, perhaps +only two or three weeks, one can become a confirmed victim of +'happy dust.' And while one is under its influence he is morally, +physically and mentally irresponsible." + +Kennedy was putting away the paraphernalia he had used, meanwhile +talking about the drug. "One of the worst aspects of it, too," he +continued, "is the desire of the user to share his experience with +some one else. This passing on of the habit, which seems to be one +of the strongest desires of the drug fiend, makes him even more +dangerous to society than he would otherwise be. It makes it +harder for anyone once addicted to a drug to shake it off, for his +friends will give him no chance. The only thing to do is to get +the victim out of his environment and into an entirely new scene." + +The laboratory table cleared again, Kennedy had dropped into a +deep study. + +"Now, why was Mrs. Sutphen there?" he asked aloud. "I can't think +it was solely through her interest for that girl they call +Snowbird. She was interested in her, but she made no attempt to +interfere or to follow her. No, there must have been another +reason." + +"You don't think she's a dope fiend herself, do you?" I asked +hurriedly. + +Kennedy smiled. "Hardly, Walter. If she has any obsession on the +subject, it is more likely to lead her to actual fanaticism +against all stimulants and narcotics and everything connected with +them. No, you might possibly persuade me that two and two equal +five--but not seventeen. It's not very late. I think we might make +another visit to that cabaret and see whether the same thing is +going on yet." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +THE BINET TEST + + +We rode downtown again and again sauntered in, this time with the +theater crowd. Our first visit had been so quiet and +unostentatious that the second attracted no attention or comment +from the waiters, or anyone else. + +As we sat down we glanced over, and there in his corner still was +Whitecap. Apparently his supply of the dope was inexhaustible, for +he was still dispensing it. As we watched the tenderloin habitues +come and go, I came soon to recognize the signs by the mere look +on the face--the pasty skin, the vacant eye, the nervous quiver of +the muscles as though every organ and every nerve were crying out +for more of the favorite nepenthe. Time and again I noticed the +victims as they sat at the tables, growing more and more haggard +and worn, until they could stand it no longer. Then they would +retire, sometimes after a visit across the floor to Whitecap, more +often directly, for they had stocked themselves up with the drug +evidently after the first visit to him. But always they would come +back, changed in appearance, with what seemed to be a new lease of +life, but nevertheless still as recognizable as drug victims. + +It was not long, as we waited, before another woman, older than +Miss Sawtelle, but dressed in an extreme fashion, hurried into the +cabaret and with scarcely a look to right or left went directly to +Whitecap's corner. I noticed that she, too, had the look. + +There was a surreptitious passing of a bottle in exchange for a +treasury note, and she dropped into the seat beside him. + +Before he could interfere, she had opened the bottle, crushed a +tablet or two in a napkin, and was holding it to her face as +though breathing the most exquisite perfume. With one quick +inspiration of her breath after another, she was snuffing the +powder up her nose. + +Whitecap with an angry gesture pulled the napkin from her face, +and one could fancy his snarl under his breath, "Say--do you want +to get me in wrong here?" + +But it was too late. Some at least of the happy dust had taken +effect, at least enough to relieve the terrible pangs she must +have been suffering. + +As she rose and retired, with a hasty apology to Whitecap for her +indiscretion, Kennedy turned to me and exclaimed, "Think of it. +The deadliest of all habits is the simplest. No hypodermic; no +pipe; no paraphernalia of any kind. It's terrible." + +She returned to sit down and enjoy herself, careful not to obtrude +herself on Whitecap lest he might become angry at the mere sight +of her and treasure his anger up against the next time when she +would need the drug. + +Already there was the most marvelous change in her. She seemed +captivated by the music, the dancing, the life which a few moments +before she had totally disregarded. + +She was seated alone, not far from us, and as she glanced about +Kennedy caught her eye. She allowed her gaze to rest on us for a +moment, the signal for a mild flirtation which ended in our +exchange of tables and we found ourselves opposite the drug fiend, +who was following up the taking of the dope by a thin-stemmed +glass of a liqueur. + +I do not recall the conversation, but it was one of those +inconsequential talks that Bohemians consider so brilliant and +everybody else so vapid. As we skimmed from one subject to +another, treating the big facts of life as if they were mere +incidents and the little as if they overshadowed all else, I could +see that Craig, who had a faculty of probing into the very soul of +anyone, when he chose, was gradually leading around to a subject +which I knew he wanted, above all others, to discuss. + +It was not long before, as the most natural remark in the world +following something he had made her say, just as a clever +prestidigitator forces a card, he asked, "What was it I saw you +snuffing over in the booth--happy dust?" + +She did not even take the trouble to deny it, but nodded a brazen +"Yes." "How did you come to use it first?" he asked, careful not +to give offense in either tone or manner. + +"The usual way, I suppose," she replied with a laugh that sounded +harsh and grating. "I was ill and I found out what it was the +doctor was giving me." + +"And then?" + +"Oh, I thought I would use it only as long as it served my purpose +and, when that was over, give it up." + +"But--?" prompted Craig hypnotically. + +"Instead, I was soon using six, eight, ten tablets of heroin a +day. I found that I needed that amount in order to live. Then it +went up by leaps to twenty, thirty, forty." + +"Suppose you couldn't get it, what then?" + +"Couldn't get it?" she repeated with an unspeakable horror. "Once +I thought I'd try to stop. But my heart skipped beats; then it +seemed to pound away, as if trying to break through my ribs. I +don't think heroin is like other drugs. When one has her 'coke'-- +that's cocaine--taken away, she feels like a rag. Fill her up and +she can do anything again. But, heroin--I think one might murder +to get it!" + +The expression on the woman's face was almost tragic. I verily +believe that she meant it. + +"Why," she cried, "if anyone had told me a year ago that the time +would ever come when I would value some tiny white tablets above +anything else in the world, yes, and even above my immortal soul, +I would have thought him a lunatic." + +It was getting late, and as the woman showed no disposition to +leave, Kennedy and I excused ourselves. + +Outside Craig looked at me keenly. "Can you guess who that was?" + +"Although she didn't tell us her name," I replied, "I am morally +certain that it was Mrs. Garrett." + +"Precisely," he answered, "and what a shame, too, for she must +evidently once have been a woman of great education and +refinement." + +He shook his head sadly. "Walter, there isn't likely to be +anything that we can do for some hours now. I have a little +experiment I'd like to make. Suppose you publish for me a story in +the Star about the campaign against drugs. Tell about what we have +seen to-night, mention the cabaret by indirection and Whitecap +directly. Then we can sit back and see what happens. We've got to +throw a scare into them somehow, if we are going to smoke out +anyone higher up than Whitecap. But you'll have to be careful, for +if they suspect us our usefulness in the case will be over." + +Together, Kennedy and I worked over our story far into the night +down at the Star office, and the following day waited to see +whether anything came of it. + +It was with a great deal of interest tempered by fear that we +dropped into the cabaret the following evening. Fortunately no one +suspected us. In fact, having been there the night before, we had +established ourselves, as it were, and were welcomed as old +patrons and good spenders. + +I noticed, however, that Whitecap was not there. The story had +been read by such of the dope fiends as had not fallen too far to +keep abreast of the times and these and the waiters were busy +quietly warning off a line of haggard-eyed, disappointed patrons +who came around, as usual. + +Some of them were so obviously dependent on Whitecap that I almost +regretted having written the story, for they must have been +suffering the tortures of the damned. + +It was in the midst of a reverie of this sort that a low +exclamation from Kennedy recalled my attention. There was Snowbird +with a man considerably older than herself. They had just come in +and were looking about frantically for Whitecap. But Whitecap had +been too frightened by the story in the Star to sell any more of +the magic happy dust openly in the cabaret, at least. + +The pair, nerve-racked and exhausted, sat down mournfully in a +seat near us, and as they talked earnestly in low tones we had an +excellent opportunity for studying Armstrong for the first time. + +He was not a bad-looking man, or even a weak one. In back of the +dissipation of the drugs one fancied he could read the story of a +brilliant life wrecked. But there was little left to admire or +respect. As the couple talked earnestly, the one so old, the other +so young in vice, I had to keep a tight rein on myself to prevent +my sympathy for the wretched girl getting the better of common +sense and kicking the older man out of doors. + +Finally Armstrong rose to go, with a final imploring glance from +the girl. Obviously she had persuaded him to forage about to +secure the heroin, by hook or crook, now that the accustomed +source of supply was cut off so suddenly. + +It was also really our first chance to study the girl carefully +under the light, for her entrance and exit the night before had +been so hurried that we had seen comparatively little of her. +Craig was watching her narrowly. Not only were the effects of the +drug plainly evident on her face, but it was apparent that the +snuffing the powdered tablets was destroying the bones in her +nose, through shrinkage of the blood vessels, as well as +undermining the nervous system and causing the brain to totter. + +I was wondering whether Armstrong knew of any depot for the secret +distribution of the drug. I could not believe that Whitecap was +either the chief distributer or the financial head of the illegal +traffic. I wondered who indeed was the man higher up. Was he an +importer of the drug, or was he the representative of some +chemical company not averse to making an illegal dollar now and +then by dragging down his fellow man? + +Kennedy and I were trying to act as if we were enjoying the +cabaret show and not too much interested in the little drama that +was being acted before us. I think little Miss Sawtelle noticed, +however, that we were looking often her way. I was amazed, too, on +studying her more closely to find that there was something +indefinably queer about her, aside from the marked effect of the +drugs she had been taking. What it was I was at a loss to +determine, but I felt sure from the expression on Kennedy's face +that he had noticed it also. + +I was on the point of asking him if he, too, observed anything +queer in the girl, when Armstrong hurried in and handed her a +small package, then almost without a word stalked out again, +evidently as much to Snowbird's surprise as to our own. + +She had literally seized the package, as though she were drowning +and grasping at a life buoy. Even the surprise at his hasty +departure could not prevent her, however, from literally tearing +the wrapper off, and in the sheltering shadow of the table cloth +pouring forth the little white pellets in her lap, counting them +as a miser counts his gold, + +"The old thief!" she exclaimed aloud. "He's held out twenty-five!" + +I don't know which it was that amazed me most, the almost childish +petulance and ungovernable temper of the girl which made her cry +out in spite of her surroundings and the circumstances, or the +petty rapacity of the man who could stoop to such a low level as +to rob her in this seeming underhand manner. + +There was no time for useless repining now. The call of outraged +nature for its daily and hourly quota of poison was too +imperative. She dumped the pellets back into the bottle hastily, +and disappeared. + +When she came back, it was with that expression I had come to know +so well. At least for a few hours there was a respite for her from +the terrific pangs she had been suffering. She was almost happy, +smiling. Even that false happiness, I felt, was superior to +Armstrong's moral sense blunted by drugs. I had begun to realize +how lying, stealing, crimes of all sorts might be laid at the door +of this great evil. + +In her haste to get where she could snuff the heroin she had +forgotten a light wrap lying on her chair. As she returned for it, +it fell to the floor. Instantly Kennedy was on his feet, bending +over to pick it up. + +She thanked him, and the smile lingered a moment on her face. It +was enough. It gave Kennedy the chance to pursue a conversation, +and in the free and easy atmosphere of the cabaret to invite her +to sit over at our table. + +At least all her nervousness was gone and she chatted vivaciously. +Kennedy said little. He was too busy watching her. It was quite +the opposite of the case of Mrs. Garrett. Yet I was at a loss to +define what it was that I sensed. + +Still the minutes sped past and we seemed to be getting on +famously. Unlike his action in the case of the older woman where +he had been sounding the depths of her heart and mind, in this +case his idea seemed to be to allow the childish prattle to come +out and perhaps explain itself. + +However, at the end of half an hour when we seemed to be getting +no further along, Kennedy did not protest at her desire to leave +us, "to keep a date," as she expressed it. + +"Waiter, the check, please," ordered Kennedy leisurely. + +When he received it, he seemed to be in no great hurry to pay it, +but went over one item after another, then added up the footing +again. + +"Strange how some of these waiters grow rich?" Craig remarked +finally with a gay smile. + +The idea of waiters and money quickly brought some petty +reminiscences to her mind. While she was still talking, Craig +casually pulled a pencil out of his pocket and scribbled some +figures on the back of the waiter's check. + +From where I was sitting beside him, I could see that he had +written some figures similar to the following: + +5183 47395 654726 2964375 47293815 924738651 2146073859 + +"Here's a stunt," he remarked, breaking into the conversation at a +convenient point. "Can you repeat these numbers after me?" + +Without waiting for her to make excuse, he said quickly "5183." +"5183," she repeated mechanically. + +"47395," came in rapid succession, to which she replied, perhaps a +little slower than before, + +"47395." + +"Now, 654726," he said. + +"654726," she repeated, I thought with some hesitation. + +"Again, 2964375," he shot out. + +"269," she hesitated, "73--" she stopped. + +It was evident that she had reached the limit. + +Kennedy smiled, paid the check and we parted at the door. + +"What was all that rigmarole?" I inquired as the white figure +disappeared down the street. + +"Part of the Binet test, seeing how many digits one can remember. +An adult ought to remember from eight to ten, in any order. But +she has the mentality of a child. That is the queer thing about +her. Chronologically she may be eighteen years or so old. Mentally +she is scarcely more than eight. Mrs. Sutphen was right. They have +made a fiend out of a mere child--a defective who never had a +chance against them." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +THE LIE DETECTOR + + +As the horror of it all dawned on me, I hated Armstrong worse than +ever, hated Whitecap, hated the man higher up, whoever he might +be, who was enriching himself out of the defective, as well as the +weakling, and the vicious--all three typified by Snowbird, +Armstrong and Whitecap. + +Having no other place to go, pending further developments of the +publicity we had given the drug war in the Star, Kennedy and I +decided on a walk home in the bracing night air. + +We had scarcely entered the apartment when the hall boy called to +us frantically: "Some one's been trying to get you all over town, +Professor Kennedy. Here's the message. I wrote it down. An attempt +has been made to poison Mrs. Sutphen. They said at the other end +of the line that you'd know." + +We faced each other aghast. + +"My God!" exclaimed Kennedy. "Has that been the effect of our +story, Walter? Instead of smoking out anyone--we've almost killed +some one." + +As fast as a cab could whisk us around to Mrs. Sutphen's we +hurried. + +"I warned her that if she mixed up in any such fight as this she +might expect almost anything," remarked Mr. Sutphen nervously, as +he met us in the reception room. "She's all right, now, I guess, +but if it hadn't been for the prompt work of the ambulance surgeon +I sent for, Dr. Coleman says she would have died in fifteen +minutes." + +"How did it happen?" asked Craig. + +"Why, she usually drinks a glass of vichy and milk before +retiring," replied Mr. Sutphen. "We don't know yet whether it was +the vichy or the milk that was poisoned, but Dr. Coleman thinks it +was chloral in one or the other, and so did the ambulance surgeon. +I tell you I was scared. I tried to get Coleman, but he was out on +a case, and I happened to think of the hospitals as probably the +quickest. Dr. Coleman came in just as the young surgeon was +bringing her around. He--oh, here he is now." + +The famous doctor was just coming downstairs. He saw us, but, I +suppose, inasmuch as we did not belong to the Sutphen and Coleman +set, ignored us. "Mrs. Sutphen will be all right now," he said +reassuringly as he drew on his gloves. "The nurse has arrived, and +I have given her instructions what to do. And, by the way, my dear +Sutphen, I should advise you to deal firmly with her in that +matter about which her name is appearing in the papers. Women +nowadays don't seem to realize the dangers they run in mixing in +in all these reforms. I have ordered an analysis of both the milk +and vichy, but that will do little good unless we can find out who +poisoned it. And there are so many chances for things like that, +life is so complex nowadays--" + +He passed out with scarcely a nod at us. Kennedy did not attempt +to question him. He was thinking rapidly. + +"Walter, we have no time to lose," he exclaimed, seizing a +telephone that stood on a stand near by. "This is the time for +action. Hello--Police Headquarters, First Deputy O'Connor, +please." + +As Kennedy waited I tried to figure out how it could have +happened. I wondered whether it might not have been Mrs. Garrett. +Would she stop at anything if she feared the loss of her favorite +drug? But then there were so many others and so many ways of +"getting" anybody who interfered with the drug traffic that it +seemed impossible to figure it out by pure deduction. + +"Hello, O'Connor," I heard Kennedy say; "you read that story in +the Star this morning about the drug fiends at that Broadway +cabaret? Yes? Well, Jameson and I wrote it. It's part of the drug +war that Mrs. Sutphen has been waging. O'Connor, she's been +poisoned--oh, no--she's all right now. But I want you to send out +and arrest Whitecap and that fellow Armstrong immediately. I'm +going to put them through a scientific third degree up in the +laboratory to-night. Thank you. No--no matter how late it is, +bring them up." + +Dr. Coleman had gone long since, Mr. Sutphen had absolutely no +interest further than the recovery of Mrs. Sutphen just now, and +Mrs. Sutphen was resting quietly and could not be seen. +Accordingly Kennedy and I hastened up to the laboratory to wait +until O'Connor could "deliver the goods." + +It was not long before one of O'Connor's men came in with +Whitecap. + +"While we're waiting," said Craig, "I wish you would just try this +little cut-out puzzle." + +I don't know what Whitecap thought, but I know I looked at Craig's +invitation to "play blocks" as a joke scarcely higher in order +than the number repetition of Snowbird. Whitecap did it, however, +sullenly, and under compulsion, in, I should say about two +minutes. + +"I have Armstrong here myself," called out the voice of our old +friend O'Connor, as he burst into the room. + +"Good!" exclaimed Kennedy. "I shall be ready for him in just a +second. Have Whitecap held here in the anteroom while you bring +Armstrong into the laboratory. By the way, Walter, that was +another of the Binet tests, putting a man at solving puzzles. It +involves reflective judgment, one of the factors in executive +ability. If Whitecap had been defective, it would have taken him +five minutes to do that puzzle, if at all. So you see he is not in +the class with Miss Sawtelle. The test shows him to be shrewd. He +doesn't even touch his own dope. Now for Armstrong." + +I knew enough of the underworld to set Whitecap down, however, as +a "lobbygow"--an agent for some one higher up, recruiting both the +gangs and the ranks of street women. + +Before us, as O'Connor led in Armstrong, was a little machine with +a big black cylinder. By means of wires and electrodes Kennedy +attached it to Armstrong's chest. + +"Now, Armstrong," he began in an even tone, "I want you to tell +the truth--the whole truth. You have been getting heroin tablets +from Whitecap." + +"Yes, sir," replied the dope fiend defiantly. + +"To-day you had to get them elsewhere." + +No answer. + +"Never mind," persisted Kennedy, still calm, "I know. Why, +Armstrong, you even robbed that girl of twenty-five tablets." + +"I did not," shot out the answer. + +"There were twenty-five short," accused Kennedy. + +The two faced each other. Craig repeated his remark. + +"Yes," replied Armstrong, "I held out the tablets, but it was not +for myself, I can get all I want. I did it because I didn't want +her to get above seventy-five a day. I have tried every way to +break her of the habit that has got me--and failed. But seventy- +five--is the limit!" + +"A pretty story!" exclaimed O'Connor. + +Craig laid his hand on his arm to check him, as he examined a +record registered on the cylinder of the machine. + +"By the way, Armstrong, I want you to write me out a note that I +can use to get a hundred heroin tablets. You can write it all but +the name of the place where I can get them." + +Armstrong was on the point of demurring, but the last sentence +reassured him. He would reveal nothing by it--yet. + +Still the man was trembling like a leaf. He wrote: + +"Give Whitecap one hundred shocks--A Victim." + +For a moment Kennedy studied the note carefully. "Oh--er--I +forgot, Armstrong, but a few days ago an anonymous letter was sent +to Mrs. Sutphen, signed 'A Friend.' Do you know anything about +it?" + +"A note?" the man repeated. "Mrs. Sutphen? I don't know anything +about any note, or Mrs. Sutphen either." + +Kennedy was still studying his record. "This," he remarked slowly, +"is what I call my psychophysical test for falsehood. Lying, when +it is practiced by an expert, is not easily detected by the most +careful scrutiny of the liar's appearance and manner. + +"However, successful means have been developed for the detection +of falsehood by the study of experimental psychology. Walter, I +think you will recall the test I used once, the psychophysical +factor of the character and rapidity of the mental process known +as the association of ideas?" + +I nodded acquiescence. + +"Well," he resumed, "in criminal jurisprudence, I find an even +more simple and more subjective test which has been recently +devised. Professor Stoerring of Bonn has found out that feelings +of pleasure and pain produce well-defined changes in respiration. +Similar effects are produced by lying, according to the famous +Professor Benussi of Graz. + +"These effects are unerring, unequivocal. The utterance of a false +statement increases respiration; of a true statement decreases. +The importance and scope of these discoveries are obvious." + +Craig was figuring rapidly on a piece of paper. "This is a certain +and objective criterion," he continued as he figured, "between +truth and falsehood. Even when a clever liar endeavors to escape +detection by breathing irregularly, it is likely to fail, for +Benussi has investigated and found that voluntary changes in +respiration don't alter the result. You see, the quotient obtained +by dividing the time of inspiration by the time of expiration +gives me the result." + +He looked up suddenly. "Armstrong, you are telling the truth about +some things--downright lies about others. You are a drug fiend-- +but I will be lenient with you, for one reason. Contrary to +everything that I would have expected, you are really trying to +save that poor half-witted girl whom you love from the terrible +habit that has gripped you. That is why you held out the quarter +of the one hundred tablets. That is why you wrote the note to Mrs. +Sutphen, hoping that she might be treated in some institution." + +Kennedy paused as a look of incredulity passed over Armstrong's +face. + +"Another thing you said was true," added Kennedy. "You can get all +the heroin you want. Armstrong, you will put the address of that +place on the outside of the note, or both you and Whitecap go to +jail. Snowbird will be left to her own devices--she can get all +the 'snow,' as some of you fiends call it, that she wants from +those who might exploit her." + +"Please, Mr. Kennedy," pleaded Armstrong. + +"No," interrupted Craig, before the drug fiend could finish. "That +is final. I must have the name of that place." + +In a shaky hand Armstrong wrote again. Hastily Craig stuffed the +note into his pocket, and ten minutes later we were mounting the +steps of a big brownstone house on a fashionable side street just +around the corner from Fifth Avenue. + +As the door was opened by an obsequious colored servant, Craig +handed him the scrap of paper signed by the password, "A Victim." + +Imitating the cough of a confirmed dope user, Craig was led into a +large waiting room. + +"You're in pretty bad shape, sah," commented the servant. + +Kennedy nudged me and, taking the cue, I coughed myself red in the +face. + +"Yes," he said. "Hurry--please." + +The servant knocked at a door, and as it was opened we caught a +glimpse of Mrs. Garrett in negligee. + +"What is it, Sam?" she asked. + +"Two gentlemen for some heroin tablets, ma'am." + +"Tell them to go to the chemical works--not to my office, Sam," +growled a man's voice inside. + +With a quick motion, Kennedy had Mrs. Garrett by the wrist. + +"I knew it," he ground out. "It was all a fake about how you got +the habit. You wanted to get it, so you could get and hold him. +And neither one of you would stop at anything, not even the murder +of your sister, to prevent the ruin of the devilish business you +have built up in manufacturing and marketing the stuff." + +He pulled the note from the hand of the surprised negro. "I had +the right address, the place where you sell hundreds of ounces of +the stuff a week--but I preferred to come to the doctor's office +where I could find you both." + +Kennedy had firmly twisted her wrist until, with a little scream +of pain, she let go the door handle. Then he gently pushed her +aside, and the next instant Craig had his hand inside the collar +of Dr. Coleman, society physician, proprietor of the Coleman +Chemical Works downtown, the real leader of the drug gang that was +debauching whole sections of the metropolis. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +THE FAMILY SKELETON + + +Surprised though we were at the unmasking of Dr. Coleman, there +was nothing to do but to follow the thing out. In such cases we +usually ran into the greatest difficulty--organized vice. This was +no exception. + +Even when cases involved only a clever individual or a prominent +family, it was the same. I recall, for example, the case of a +well-known family in a New York suburb, which was particularly +difficult. It began in a rather unusual manner, too. + +"Mr. Kennedy--I am ruined--ruined." + +It was early one morning that the telephone rang and I answered +it. A very excited German, breathless and incoherent, was +evidently at the other end of the wire. + +I handed the receiver to Craig and picked up the morning paper +lying on the table. + +"Minturn--dead?" I heard Craig exclaim. "In the paper this +morning? I'll be down to see you directly." + +Kennedy almost tore the paper from me. In the next to the end +column where late news usually is dropped was a brief account of +the sudden death of Owen Minturn, one of the foremost criminal +lawyers of the city, in Josephson's Baths downtown. + +It ended: "It is believed by the coroner that Mr. Minturn was +shocked to death and evidence is being sought to show that two +hundred and forty volts of electricity had been thrown into the +attorney's body while he was in the electric bath. Joseph +Josephson, the proprietor of the bath, who operated the +switchboard, is being held, pending the completion of the +inquiry." + +As Kennedy hastily ran his eye over the paragraphs, he became more +and more excited himself. + +"Walter," he cried, as he finished, "I don't believe that that was +an accident at all." + +"Why?" I asked. + +He already had his hat on, and I knew he was going to Josephson's +breakfastless. I followed reluctantly. + +"Because," he answered, as we hustled along in the early morning +crowd, "it was only yesterday afternoon that I saw Minturn at his +office and he made an appointment with me for this very morning. +He was a very secretive man, but he did tell me this much, that he +feared his life was in danger and that it was in some way +connected with that Pearcy case up in Stratfield, Connecticut, +where he has an estate. You have read of the case?" + +Indeed I had. It had seemed to me to be a particularly +inexplicable affair. Apparently a whole family had been poisoned +and a few days before old Mr. Randall Pearcy, a retired +manufacturer, had died after a brief but mysterious illness. + +Pearcy had been married a year or so ago to Annette Oakleigh, a +Broadway comic opera singer, who was his second wife. By his first +marriage he had had two children, a son, Warner, and a daughter, +Isabel. + +Warner Pearcy, I had heard, had blazed a vermilion trail along the +Great White Way, but his sister was of the opposite temperament, +interested in social work, and had attracted much attention by +organizing a settlement in the slums of Stratfield for the uplift +of the workers in the Pearcy and other mills. + +Broadway, as well as Stratfield, had already woven a fantastic +background, for the mystery and hints had been broadly made that +Annette Oakleigh had been indiscreetly intimate with a young +physician in the town, a Dr. Gunther, a friend, by the way, of +Minturn. "There has been no trial yet," went on Kennedy, "but +Minturn seems to have appeared before the coroner's jury at +Stratfield and to have asserted the innocence of Mrs. Pearcy and +that of Dr. Gunther so well that, although the jury brought in a +verdict of murder by poison by some one unknown, there has been no +mention of the name of anyone else. The coroner simply adjourned +the inquest so that a more careful analysis might be made of the +vital organs. And now comes this second tragedy in New York." + +"What was the poison?" I asked. "Have they found out yet?" + +"They are pretty sure, so Minturn told me, that it was lead +poisoning. The fact not generally known is," he added in a lower +tone, "that the cases were not confined to the Pearcy house. They +had even extended to Minturn's too, although about that he said +little yesterday. The estates up there adjoin, you know." + +Owen Minturn, I recalled, had gained a formidable reputation by +his successful handling of cases from the lowest strata of society +to the highest. Indeed it was a byword that his appearance in +court indicated two things--the guilt of the accused and a verdict +of acquittal. + +"Of course," Craig pursued as we were jolted from station to +station downtown, "you know they say that Minturn never kept a +record of a case. But written records were as nothing compared to +what that man must have carried only in his head." + +It was a common saying that, if Minturn should tell all he knew, +he might hang half a dozen prominent men in society. That was not +strictly true, perhaps, but it was certain that a revelation of +the things confided to him by clients which were never put down on +paper would have caused a series of explosions that would have +wrecked at least some portions of the social and financial world. +He had heard much and told little, for he had been a sort of +"father confessor." + +Had Minturn, I wondered, known the name of the real criminal? + +Josephson's was a popular bath on Forty-second Street, where many +of the "sun-dodgers" were accustomed to recuperate during the day +from their arduous pursuit of pleasure at night and prepare for +the resumption of their toil during the coming night. It was more +than that, however, for it had a reputation for being conducted +really on a high plane. + +We met Josephson downstairs. He had been released under bail, +though the place was temporarily closed and watched over by the +agents of the coroner and the police. Josephson appeared to be a +man of some education and quite different from what I had imagined +from hearing him over the telephone. + +"Oh, Mr. Kennedy," he exclaimed, "who now will come to my baths? +Last night they were crowded, but to-day--" + +He ended with an expressive gesture of his hands. + +"One customer I have surely lost, young Mr. Pearcy," he went on. + +"Warner Pearcy?" asked Craig. "Was he here last night?" + +"Nearly every night," replied Josephson, now glib enough as his +first excitement subsided and his command of English returned. "He +was a neighbor of Mr. Minturn's, I hear. Oh, what luck!" growled +Josephson as the name recalled him to his present troubles. + +"Well," remarked Kennedy with an attempt at reassurance as if to +gain the masseur's confidence, "I know as well as you that it is +often amazing what a tremendous shock a man may receive and yet +not be killed, and no less amazing how small a shock may kill. It +all depends on circumstances." + +Josephson shot a covert look at Kennedy. "Yes," he reiterated, +"but I cannot see how it COULD be. If the lights had become short- +circuited with the bath, that might have thrown a current into the +bath. But they were not. I know it." + +"Still," pursued Kennedy, watching him keenly, "it is not all a +question of current. To kill, the shock must pass through a vital +organ--the brain, the heart, the upper spinal cord. So, a small +shock may kill and a large one may not. If it passes in one foot +and out by the other, the current isn't likely to be as dangerous +as if it passes in by a hand or foot and then out by a foot or +hand. In one case it passes through no vital organ; in the other +it is very likely to do so. You see, the current can flow through +the body only when it has a place of entrance and a place of exit. +In all cases of accident from electric light wires, the victim is +touching some conductor--damp earth, salty earth, water, something +that gives the current an outlet and--" + +"But even if the lights had been short-circuited," interrupted +Josephson, "Mr. Minturn would have escaped injury unless he had +touched the taps of the bath. Oh, no, sir, accidents in the +medical use of electricity are rare. They don't happen here in my +establishment," he maintained stoutly. "The trouble was that the +coroner, without any knowledge of the physiological effects of +electricity on the body, simply jumped at once to the conclusion +that it was the electric bath that did it." + +"Then it was for medical treatment that Mr. Minturn was taking the +bath?" asked Kennedy, quickly taking up the point. + +"Yes, of course," answered the masseur, eager to explain. "You are +acquainted with the latest treatment for lead poisoning by means +of the electric bath?" + +Kennedy nodded. "I know that Sir Thomas Oliver, the English +authority who has written much on dangerous trades, has tried it +with marked success." + +"Well, sir, that was why Mr. Minturn was here. He came here +introduced by a Dr. Gunther of Stratfield." + +"Indeed?" remarked Kennedy colorlessly, though I could see that it +interested him, for evidently Minturn had said nothing of being +himself a sufferer from the poison. "May I see the bath?" + +"Surely," said Josephson, leading the way upstairs. + +It was an oaken tub with metal rods on the two long sides, from +which depended prismatic carbon rods. Kennedy examined it closely. + +"This is what we call a hydro-electric bath," Josephson explained. +"Those rods on the sides are the electrodes. You see there are no +metal parts in the tub itself. The rods are attached by wiring to +a wall switch out here." + +He pointed to the next room. Kennedy examined the switch with +care. + +"From it," went on Josephson, "wires lead to an accumulator +battery of perhaps thirty volts. It uses very little current. Dr. +Gunther tested it and found it all right." + +Craig leaned over the bath, and from the carbon electrodes scraped +off a white powder in minute crystals. + +"Ordinarily," Josephson pursued, "lead is eliminated by the skin +and kidneys. But now, as you know, it is being helped along by +electrolysis. I talked to Dr. Gunther about it. It is his opinion +that it is probably eliminated as a chloride from the tissues of +the body to the electrodes in the bath in which the patient is +wholly or partly immersed. On the positive electrodes we get the +peroxide. On the negative there is a spongy metallic form of lead. +But it is only a small amount." + +"The body has been removed?" asked Craig. + +"Not yet," the masseur replied. "The coroner has ordered it kept +here under guard until he makes up his mind what disposition to +have made of it." + +We were next ushered into a little room on the same floor, at the +door of which was posted an official from the coroner. + +"First of all," remarked Craig, as he drew back the sheet and +began, a minute examination of the earthly remains of the great +lawyer, "there are to be considered the safeguards of the human +body against the passage through it of a fatal electric current-- +the high electric resistance of the body itself. It is +particularly high when the current must pass through joints such +as wrists, knees, elbows, and quite high when the bones of the +head are concerned. Still, there might have been an incautious +application of the current to the head, especially when the +subject is a person of advanced age or latent cerebral disease, +though I don't know that that fits Mr. Minturn. That's strange," +he muttered, looking up, puzzled. "I can find no mark of a burn on +the body--absolutely no mark of anything." + +"That's what I say," put in Josephson, much pleased by what +Kennedy said, for he had been waiting anxiously to see what Craig +discovered on his own examination. "It's impossible." + +"It's all the more remarkable," went on Craig, half to himself and +ignoring Josephson, "because burns due to electric currents are +totally unlike those produced in other ways. They occur at the +point of contact, usually about the arms and hands, or the head. +Electricity is much to be feared when it involves the cranial +cavity." He completed his examination of the head which once had +carried secrets which themselves must have been incandescent. + +"Then, too, such burns are most often something more than +superficial, for considerable heat is developed which leads to +massive destruction and carbonization of the tissues to a +considerable depth. I have seen actual losses of substance--a lump +of killed flesh surrounded by healthy tissues. Besides, such burns +show an unexpected indolence when compared to the violent pains of +ordinary burns. Perhaps that is due to the destruction of the +nerve endings. How did Minturn die? Was he alone? Was he dead when +he was discovered?" + +"He was alone," replied Josephson, slowly endeavoring to tell it +exactly as he had seen it, "but that's the strange part of it. He +seemed to be suffering from a convulsion. I think he complained at +first of a feeling of tightness of his throat and a twitching of +the muscles of his hands and feet. Anyhow, he called for help. I +was up here and we rushed in. Dr. Gunther had just brought him and +then had gone away, after introducing him, and showing him the +bath." + +Josephson proceeded slowly, evidently having been warned that +anything he said might be used against him. "We carried him, when +he was this way, into this very room. But it was only for a short +time. Then came a violent convulsion. It seemed to extend rapidly +all over his body. His legs were rigid, his feet bent, his head +back. Why, he was resting only on his heels and the back of his +head. You see, Mr. Kennedy, that simply could not be the electric +shock." + +"Hardly," commented Kennedy, looking again at the body. "It looks +more like a tetanus convulsion. Yet there does not seem to be any +trace of a recent wound that might have caused lockjaw. How did he +look?" + +"Oh, his face finally became livid," replied Josephson. "He had a +ghastly, grinning expression, his eyes were wide, there was foam +on his mouth, and his breathing was difficult." + +"Not like tetanus, either," revised Craig. "There the convulsion +usually begins with the face and progresses to the other muscles. +Here it seems to have gone the other way." + +"That lasted a minute or so," resumed the masseur. "Then he sank +back--perfectly limp. I thought he was dead. But he was not. A +cold sweat broke out all over him and he was as if in a deep +sleep." + +"What did you do?" prompted Kennedy. + +"I didn't know what to do. I called an ambulance. But the moment +the door opened, his body seemed to stiffen again. He had one +other convulsion--and when he grew limp he was dead." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +THE LEAD POISONER + + +It was a gruesome recital and I was glad to leave the baths +finally with Kennedy. Josephson was quite evidently relieved at +the attitude Craig had taken toward the coroner's conclusion that +Minturn had been shocked to death. As far as I could see, however, +it added to rather than cleared up the mystery. + +Craig went directly uptown to his laboratory, in contrast with our +journey down, in abstracted silence, which was his manner when he +was trying to reason out some particularly knotty problem. + +As Kennedy placed the white crystals which he had scraped off the +electrodes of the tub on a piece of dark paper in the laboratory, +he wet the tip of his finger and touched just the minutest grain +to his tongue. + +The look on his face told me that something unexpected had +happened. He held a similar minute speck of the powder out to me. + +It was an intensely bitter taste and very persistent, for even +after we had rinsed out our mouths it seemed to remain, clinging +persistently to the tongue. + +He placed some of the grains in some pure water. They dissolved +only slightly, if at all. But in a tube in which he mixed a little +ether and chloroform they dissolved fairly readily. + +Next, without a word, he poured just a drop of strong sulphuric +acid on the crystals. There was not a change in them. + +Quickly he reached up into the rack and took down a bottle labeled +"Potassium Bichromate." + +"Let us see what an oxidizing agent will do," he remarked. + +As he gently added the bichromate, there came a most marvelous, +kaleidoscopic change. From being almost colorless, the crystals +turned instantly to a deep blue, then rapidly to purple, lilac, +red, and then the red slowly faded away and they became colorless +again. + +"What is it?" I asked, fascinated. "Lead?" + +"N-no," he replied, the lines of his forehead deepening. "No. This +is sulphate of strychnine." + +"Sulphate of strychnine?" I repeated in astonishment. + +"Yes," he reiterated slowly. "I might have suspected that from the +convulsions, particularly when Josephson said that the noise and +excitement of the arrival of the ambulance brought on the fatal +paroxysm. That is symptomatic. But I didn't fully realize it until +I got up here and tasted the stuff. Then I suspected, for that +taste is characteristic. Even one part diluted seventy thousand +times gives that decided bitter taste." + +"That's all very well," I remarked, recalling the intense +bitterness yet on my tongue. "But how do you suppose it was +possible for anyone to administer it? It seems to me that he would +have said something, if he had swallowed even the minutest part of +it. He must have known it. Yet apparently he didn't. At least he +said nothing about it--or else Josephson is concealing something." + +"Did he swallow it--necessarily?" queried Kennedy, in a tone +calculated to show me that the chemical world, at least, was full +of a number of things, and there was much to learn. + +"Well, I suppose if it had been given hypodermically, it would +have a more violent effect," I persisted, trying to figure out a +way that the poison might have been given. + +"Even more unlikely," objected Craig, with a delight at +discovering a new mystery that to me seemed almost fiendish. "No, +he would certainly have felt a needle, have cried out and said +something about it, if anyone had tried that. This poisoned needle +business isn't as easy as some people seem to think nowadays." + +"Then he might have absorbed it from the water," I insisted, +recalling a recent case of Kennedy's and adding, "by osmosis." + +"You saw how difficult it was to dissolve in water," Craig +rejected quietly. + +"Well, then," I concluded in desperation. "How could it have been +introduced?" + +"I have a theory," was all he would say, reaching for the railway +guide, "but it will take me up to Stratfield to prove it." + +His plan gave us a little respite and we paused long enough to +lunch, for which breathing space I was duly thankful. The forenoon +saw us on the train, Kennedy carrying a large and cumbersome +package which he brought down with him from the laboratory and +which we took turns in carrying, though he gave no hint of its +contents. + +We arrived in Stratfield, a very pretty little mill town, in the +middle of the afternoon, and with very little trouble were +directed to the Pearcy house, after Kennedy had checked the parcel +with the station agent. + +Mrs. Pearcy, to whom we introduced ourselves as reporters of the +Star, was a tall blonde. I could not help thinking that she made a +particularly dashing widow. With her at the time was Isabel +Pearcy, a slender girl whose sensitive lips and large, earnest +eyes indicated a fine, high-strung nature. + +Even before we had introduced ourselves, I could not help thinking +that there was a sort of hostility between the women. Certainly it +was evident that there was as much difference in temperament as +between the butterfly and the bee. + +"No," replied the elder woman quickly to a request from Kennedy +for an interview, "there is nothing that I care to say to the +newspapers. They have said too much already about this-- +unfortunate affair." + +Whether it was imagination or not, I fancied that there was an air +of reserve about both women. It struck me as a most peculiar +household. What was it? Was each suspicious of the other? Was each +concealing something? + +I managed to steal a glance at Kennedy's face to see whether there +was anything to confirm my own impression. He was watching Mrs. +Pearcy closely as she spoke. In fact his next few questions, +inconsequential as they were, seemed addressed to her solely for +the purpose of getting her to speak. + +I followed his eyes and found that he was watching her mouth, in +reality. As she answered I noted her beautiful white teeth. +Kennedy himself had trained me to notice small things, and at the +time, though I thought it was trivial, I recall noticing on her +gums, where they joined the teeth, a peculiar bluish-black line. + +Kennedy had been careful to address only Mrs. Pearcy at first, and +as he continued questioning her, she seemed to realize that he was +trying to lead her along. + +"I must positively refuse to talk any more," she repeated finally, +rising. "I am not to be tricked into saying anything." + +She had left the room, evidently expecting that Isabel would +follow. She did not. In fact I felt that Miss Pearcy was visibly +relieved by the departure of her stepmother. She seemed anxious to +ask us something and now took the first opportunity. + +"Tell me," she said eagerly, "how did Mr. Minturn die? What do +they really think of it in New York?" + +"They think it is poisoning," replied Craig, noting the look on +her face. + +She betrayed nothing, as far as I could see, except a natural +neighborly interest. "Poisoning?" she repeated. "By what?" + +"Lead poisoning," he replied evasively. + +She said nothing. It was evident that, slip of a girl though she +was, she was quite the match of anyone who attempted leading +questions. Kennedy changed his method. + +"You will pardon me," he said apologetically, "for recalling what +must be distressing. But we newspapermen often have to do things +and ask questions that are distasteful. I believe it is rumored +that your father suffered from lead poisoning?" + +"Oh, I don't know what it was--none of us do," she cried, almost +pathetically. "I had been living at the settlement until lately. +When father grew worse, I came home. He had such strange visions-- +hallucinations, I suppose you would call them. In the daytime he +would be so very morose and melancholy. Then, too, there were +terrible pains in his stomach, and his eyesight began to fail. +Yes, I believe that Dr. Gunther did say it was lead poisoning. +But--they have said so many things--so many things," she repeated, +plainly distressed at the subject of her recent bereavement. + +"Your brother is not at home?" asked Kennedy, quickly changing the +subject. + +"No," she answered, then with a flash as though lifting the veil +of a confidence, added: "You know, neither Warner nor I have lived +here much this year. He has been in New York most of the time and +I have been at the settlement, as I already told you." + +She hesitated, as if wondering whether she should say more, then +added quickly: "It has been repeated often enough; there is no +reason why I shouldn't say it to you. Neither of us exactly +approved of father's marriage." + +She checked herself and glanced about, somewhat with the air of +one who has suddenly considered the possibility of being +overheard. + +"May I have a glass of water?" asked Kennedy suddenly. + +"Why, certainly," she answered, going to the door, apparently +eager for an excuse to find out whether there was some one on the +other side of it. + +There was not, nor any indication that there had been. + +"Evidently she does not have any suspicions of THAT," remarked +Kennedy in an undertone, half to himself. + +I had no chance to question him, for she returned almost +immediately. Instead of drinking the water, however, he held it +carefully up to the light. It was slightly turbid. + +"You drink the water from the tap?" he asked, as he poured some of +it into a sterilized vial which he drew quickly from his vest +pocket. + +"Certainly," she replied, for the moment nonplussed at his strange +actions. "Everybody drinks the town water in Stratfield." + +A few more questions, none of which were of importance, and +Kennedy and I excused ourselves. + +At the gate, instead of turning toward the town, however, Kennedy +went on and entered the grounds of the Minturn house next door. +The lawyer, I had understood, was a widower and, though he lived +in Stratfield only part of the time, still maintained his house +there. + +We rang the bell and a middle-aged housekeeper answered. + +"I am from the water company," he began politely. "We are testing +the water, perhaps will supply consumers with filters. Can you let +me have a sample?" + +She did not demur, but invited us in. As she drew the water, Craig +watched her hands closely. She seemed to have difficulty in +holding the glass, and as she handed it to him, I noticed a +peculiar hanging down of the wrist. Kennedy poured the sample into +a second vial, and I noticed that it was turbid, too. With no +mention of the tragedy to her employer, he excused himself, and we +walked slowly back to the road. + +Between the two houses Kennedy paused, and for several moments +appeared to be studying them. + +We walked slowly back along the road to the town. As we passed the +local drug store, Kennedy turned and sauntered in. + +He found it easy enough to get into conversation with the +druggist, after making a small purchase, and in the course of a +few minutes we found ourselves gossiping behind the partition that +shut off the arcana of the prescription counter from the rest of +the store. + +Gradually Kennedy led the conversation around to the point which +he wanted, and asked, "I wish you'd let me fix up a little +sulphureted hydrogen." + +"Go ahead," granted the druggist good-naturedly. "I guess you can +do it. You know as much about drugs as I do. I can stand the +smell, if you can." + +Kennedy smiled and set to work. + +Slowly he passed the gas through the samples of water he had taken +from the two houses. As he did so the gas, bubbling through, made +a blackish precipitate. + +"What is it?" asked the druggist curiously. + +"Lead sulphide," replied Kennedy, stroking his chin. "This is an +extremely delicate test. Why, one can get a distinct brownish +tinge if lead is present in even incredibly minute quantities." + +He continued to work over the vials ranged on the table before +him. + +"The water contains, I should say, from ten to fifteen hundredths +of a grain of lead to the gallon," he remarked finally. + +"Where did it come from?" asked the druggist, unable longer to +restrain his curiosity. + +"I got it up at Pearcy's," Kennedy replied frankly, turning to +observe whether the druggist might betray any knowledge of it. + +"That's strange," he replied in genuine surprise. "Our water in +Stratfield is supplied by a company to a large area, and it has +always seemed to me to be of great organic purity." + +"But the pipes are of lead, are they not?" asked Kennedy. + +"Y-yes," answered the druggist, "I think in most places the +service pipes are of lead. But," he added earnestly as he saw the +implication of his admission, "water has never to my knowledge +been found to attack the pipes so as to affect its quality +injuriously." + +He turned his own faucet and drew a glassful. "It is normally +quite clear," he added, holding the glass up. + +It was in fact perfectly clear, and when he passed some of the gas +through it nothing happened at all. + +Just then a man lounged into the store. + +"Hello, Doctor," greeted the druggist. "Here are a couple of +fellows that have been investigating the water up at Pearcy's. +They've found lead in it. That ought to interest you. This is Dr. +Gunther," he introduced, turning to us. + +It was an unexpected encounter, one I imagine that Kennedy might +have preferred to take place under other circumstances. But he was +equal to the occasion. + +"We've been sent up here to look into the case for the New York +Star," Kennedy said quickly. "I intended to come around to see +you, but you have saved me the trouble." + +Dr. Gunther looked from one of us to the other. "Seems to me the +New York papers ought to have enough to do without sending men all +over the country making news," he grunted. + +"Well," drawled Kennedy quietly, "there seems to be a most +remarkable situation up there at Pearcy's and Minturn's, too. As +nearly as I can make out several people there are suffering from +unmistakable signs of lead poisoning. There are the pains in the +stomach, the colic, and then on the gums is that characteristic +line of plumbic sulphide, the distinctive mark produced by lead. +There is the wrist-drop, the eyesight affected, the partial +paralysis, the hallucinations and a condition in old Pearcy's case +almost bordering on insanity--to enumerate the symptoms that seem +to be present in varying degrees in various persons in the two +houses." + +Gunther looked at Kennedy, as if in doubt just how to take him. + +"That's what the coroner says, too--lead poisoning," put in the +druggist, himself as keen as anyone else for a piece of local +news, and evidently not averse to stimulating talk from Dr. +Gunther, who had been Pearcy's physician. + +"That all seems to be true enough," replied Gunther at length +guardedly. "I recognized that some time ago." + +"Why do you think it affects each so differently?" asked the +druggist. + +Dr. Gunther settled himself easily back in a chair to speak as one +having authority. "Well," he began slowly, "Miss Pearcy, of +course, hasn't been living there much until lately. As for the +others, perhaps this gentleman here from the Star knows that lead, +once absorbed, may remain latent in the system and then make +itself felt. It is like arsenic, an accumulative poison, slowly +collecting in the body until the limit is reached, or until the +body, becoming weakened from some other cause, gives way to it." + +He shifted his position slowly, and went on, as if defending the +course of action he had taken in the case. + +"Then, too, you know, there is an individual as well as family and +sex susceptibility to lead. Women are especially liable to lead +poisoning, but then perhaps in this case Mrs. Pearcy comes of a +family that is very resistant. There are many factors. Personally, +I don't think Pearcy himself was resistant. Perhaps Minturn was +not, either. At any rate, after Pearcy's death, it was I who +advised Minturn to take the electrolysis cure in New York. I took +him down there," added Gunther. "Confound it, I wish I had stayed +with him. But I always found Josephson perfectly reliable in +hydrotherapy with other patients I sent to him, and I understood +that he had been very successful with cases sent to him by many +physicians in the city." He paused and I waited anxiously to see +whether Kennedy would make some reference to the discovery of the +strychnine salts. + +"Have you any idea how the lead poisoning could have been caused?" +asked Kennedy instead. + +Dr. Gunther shook his head. "It is a puzzle to me," he answered. +"I am sure of only one thing. It could not be from working in +lead, for it is needless to say that none of them worked." + +"Food?" Craig suggested. + +The doctor considered. "I had thought of that. I know that many +cases of lead poisoning have been traced to the presence of the +stuff in ordinary foods, drugs and drinks. I have examined the +foods, especially the bread. They don't use canned goods. I even +went so far as to examine the kitchen ware to see if there could +be anything wrong with the glazing. They don't drink wines and +beers, into which now and then the stuff seems to get." + +"You seem to have a good grasp of the subject," flattered Kennedy, +as we rose to go. "I can hardly blame you for neglecting the +water, since everyone here seems to be so sure of the purity of +the supply." + +Gunther said nothing. I was not surprised, for, at the very least, +no one likes to have an outsider come in and put his finger +directly on the raw spot. What more there might be to it, I could +only conjecture. + +We left the druggist's and Kennedy, glancing at his watch, +remarked: "If you will go down to the station, Walter, and get +that package we left there, I shall be much obliged to you. I want +to make just one more stop, at the office of the water company, +and I think I shall just about have time for it. There's a pretty +good restaurant across the street. Meet me there, and by that time +I shall know whether to carry out a little plan I have outlined or +not." + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +THE ELECTROLYTIC MURDER + + +We dined leisurely, which seemed strange to me, for it was not +Kennedy's custom to let moments fly uselessly when he was on a +case. However, I soon found out why it was. He was waiting for +darkness. + +As soon as the lights began to glow in the little stores on the +main street, we sallied forth, taking the direction of the Pearcy +and Minturn houses. + +On the way he dropped into the hardware store and purchased a +light spade and one of the small pocket electric flashlights, +about which he wrapped a piece of cardboard in such a way as to +make a most effective dark lantern. + +We trudged along in silence, occasionally changing from carrying +the heavy package to the light spade. + +Both the Pearcy and Minturn houses were in nearly total darkness +when we arrived. They set well back from the road and were +plentifully shielded by shrubbery. Then, too, at night it was not +a much frequented neighborhood. We could easily hear the footsteps +of anyone approaching on the walk, and an occasional automobile +gliding past did not worry us in the least. + +"I have calculated carefully from an examination of the water +company's map," said Craig, "just where the water pipe of the two +houses branches off from the main in the road." + +After a measurement or two from some landmark, we set to work a +few feet inside, under cover of the bushes and the shadows, like +two grave diggers. + +Kennedy had been wielding the spade vigorously for a few minutes +when it touched something metallic. There, just beneath the frost +line, we came upon the service pipe. + +He widened the hole, and carefully scraped off the damp earth that +adhered to the pipe. Next he found a valve where he shut off the +water and cut out a small piece of the pipe. + +"I hope they don't suspect anything like this in the houses with +their water cut off," he remarked as he carefully split the piece +open lengthwise and examined it under the light. + +On the interior of the pipe could be seen patchy lumps of white +which projected about an eighth of an inch above the internal +surface. As the pipe dried in the warm night air, they could +easily be brushed off as a white powder. + +"What is it--strychnine?" I asked. + +"No," he replied, regarding it thoughtfully with some +satisfaction. "That is lead carbonate. There can be no doubt that +the turbidity of the water was due to this powder in suspension. A +little dissolves in the water, while the scales and incrustations +in fine particles are carried along in the current. As a matter of +fact the amount necessary to make the water poisonous need not be +large." + +He applied a little instrument to the cut ends of the pipe. As I +bent over, I could see the needle on its dial deflected just a +bit. + +"My voltmeter," he said, reading it, "shows that there is a +current of about 1.8 volts passing through this pipe all the +time." + +"Electrolysis of water pipes!" I exclaimed, thinking of statements +I had heard by engineers. "That's what they mean by stray or +vagabond currents, isn't it?" + +He had seized the lantern and was eagerly following up and down +the line of the water pipe. At last he stopped, with a low +exclamation, at a point where an electric light wire supplying the +Minturn cottage crossed overhead. Fastened inconspicuously to the +trunk of a tree which served as a support for the wire was another +wire which led down from it and was buried in the ground. + +Craig turned up the soft earth as fast as he could, until he +reached the pipe at this point. There was the buried wire wound +several times around it. + +As quickly and as neatly as he could he inserted a connection +between the severed ends of the pipe to restore the flow of water +to the houses, turned on the water and covered up the holes he had +dug. Then he unwrapped the package which we had tugged about all +day, and in a narrow path between the bushes which led to the +point where the wire had tapped the electric light feed he placed +in a shallow hole in the ground a peculiar apparatus. + +As nearly as I could make it out, it consisted of two flat +platforms between which, covered over and projected, was a slip of +paper which moved forward, actuated by clockwork, and pressed on +by a sort of stylus. Then he covered it over lightly with dirt so +that, unless anyone had been looking for it, it would never be +noticed. + +It was late when we reached the city again, but Kennedy had one +more piece of work and that devolved on me. All the way down on +the train he had been writing and rewriting something. + +"Walter," he said, as the train pulled into the station, "I want +that published in to-morrow's papers." + +I looked over what he had written. It was one of the most +sensational stories I have ever fathered, beginning, "Latest of +the victims of the unknown poisoner of whole families in +Stratfield, Connecticut, is Miss Isabel Pearcy, whose father, +Randall Pearcy, died last week." + +I knew that it was a "plant" of some kind, for so far he had +discovered no evidence that Miss Pearcy had been affected. What +his purpose was, I could not guess, but I got the story printed. + +The next morning early Kennedy was quietly at work in the +laboratory. + +"What is this treatment of lead poisoning by electrolysis?" I +asked, now that there had come a lull when I might get an +intelligible answer. "How does it work?" + +"Brand new, Walter," replied Kennedy. "It has been discovered that +ions will flow directly through the membranes." + +"Ions?" I repeated. "What are ions?" + +"Travelers," he answered, smiling, "so named by Faraday from the +Greek verb, io, to go. They are little positive and negative +charges of electricity of which molecules are composed. You know +some believe now that matter is really composed of electrical +energy. I think I can explain it best by a simile I use with my +classes. It is as though you had a ballroom in which the dancers +in couples represent the neutral molecules. There are a certain +number of isolated ladies and gentlemen--dissociated ions--" "Who +don't know these new dances?" I interrupted. + +"They all know this dance," he laughed. "But, to be serious in the +simile, suppose at one end of the room there is a large mirror and +at the other a buffet with cigars and champagne. What happens to +the dissociated ions?" + +"Well, I suppose you want me to say that the ladies gather about +the mirror and the men about the buffet." + +"Exactly. And some of the dancing partners separate and follow the +crowd. Well, that room presents a picture of what happens in an +electrolytic solution at the moment when the electric current is +passing through it." + +"Thanks," I laughed. "That was quite adequate to my immature +understanding." + +Kennedy continued at work, checking up and arranging his data +until the middle of the afternoon, when he went up to Stratfield. + +Having nothing better to do, I wandered out about town in the hope +of running across some one with whom to while away the hours until +Kennedy returned. I found out that, since yesterday, Broadway had +woven an entirely new background for the mystery. Now it was +rumored that the lawyer Minturn himself had been on very intimate +terms with Mrs. Pearcy. I did not pay much attention to the rumor, +for I knew that Broadway is constitutionally unable to believe +that anybody is straight. + +Kennedy had commissioned me to keep in touch with Josephson and I +finally managed to get around to the Baths, to find them still +closed. + +As I was talking with him, a very muddy and dusty car pulled up at +the door and a young man whose face was marred by the red +congested blood vessels that are in some a mark of dissipation +burst in on us. + +"What--closed up yet--Joe?" he asked. "Haven't they taken +Minturn's body away?" + +"Yes, it was sent up to Stratfield to-day," replied the masseur, +"but the coroner seems to want to worry me all he can." + +"Too bad. I was up almost all last night, and to-day I have been +out in my car--tired to death. Thought I might get some rest here. +Where are you sending the boys--to the Longacre?" + +"Yes. They'll take good care of you till I open up again. Hope to +see you back again, then, Mr. Pearcy," he added, as the young man +turned and hurried out to his car again. "That was that young +Pearcy, you know. Nice boy--but living the life too fast. What's +Kennedy doing--anything?" + +I did not like the jaunty bravado of the masseur which now seemed +to be returning, since nothing definite had taken shape. I +determined that he should not pump me, as he evidently was trying +to do. I had at least fulfilled Kennedy's commission and felt that +the sooner I left Josephson the better for both of us. + +I was surprised at dinner to receive a wire from Craig saying that +he was bringing down Dr. Gunther, Mrs. Pearcy and Isabel to New +York and asking me to have Warner Pearcy and Josephson at the +laboratory at nine o'clock. + +By strategy I managed to persuade Pearcy to come, and as for +Josephson, he could not very well escape, though I saw that as +long as nothing more had happened, he was more interested in +"fixing" the police so that he could resume business than anything +else. + +As we entered the laboratory that night, Kennedy, who had left his +party at a downtown hotel to freshen up, met us each at the door. +Instead of conducting us in front of his laboratory table, which +was the natural way, he led us singly around through the narrow +space back of it. + +I recall that as I followed him, I half imagined that the floor +gave way just a bit, and there flashed over me, by a queer +association of ideas, the recollection of having visited an +amusement park not long before where merely stepping on an +innocent-looking section of the flooring had resulted in a +tremendous knocking and banging beneath, much to the delight of +the lovers of slap-stick humor. This was serious business, +however, and I quickly banished the frivolous thought from my +mind. + +"The discovery of poison, and its identification," began Craig at +last when we had all arrived and were seated about him, "often +involves not only the use of chemistry but also a knowledge of the +chemical effect of the poison on the body, and the gross as well +as microscopic changes which it produces in various tissues and +organs--changes, some due to mere contact, others to the actual +chemicophysiological reaction between the poison and the body." + +His hand was resting on the poles of a large battery, as he +proceeded: "Every day the medical detective plays a more and more +important part in the detection of crime, and I might say that, +except in the case of crime complicated by a lunacy plea, his work +has earned the respect of the courts and of detectives, while in +the case of insanity the discredit is the fault rather of the law +itself. The ways in which the doctor can be of use in untangling +the facts in many forms of crime have become so numerous that the +profession of medical detective may almost be called a specialty." + +Kennedy repeated what he had already told me about electrolysis, +then placed between the poles of the battery a large piece of raw +beef. + +He covered the negative electrode with blotting paper and soaked +it in a beaker near at hand. + +"This solution," he explained, "is composed of potassium iodide. +In this other beaker I have a mixture of ordinary starch." + +He soaked the positive electrode in the starch and then jammed the +two against the soft red meat. Then he applied the current. + +A few moments later he withdrew the positive electrode. Both it +and the meat under it were blue! + +"What has happened?" he asked. "The iodine ions have actually +passed through the beef to the positive pole and the paper on the +electrode. Here we have starch iodide." + +It was a startling idea, this of the introduction of a substance +by electrolysis. + +"I may say," he resumed, "that the medical view of electricity is +changing, due in large measure to the genius of the Frenchman, Dr. +Leduc. The body, we know, is composed largely of water, with salts +of soda and potash. It is an excellent electrolyte. Yet most +doctors regard the introduction of substances by the electric +current as insignificant or nonexistent. But on the contrary the +introduction of drugs by electrolysis is regular and far from +being insignificant may very easily bring about death. + +"That action," he went on, looking from one of us to another, "may +be therapeutic, as in the cure for lead poisoning by removing the +lead, or it may be toxic--as in the case of actually introducing +such a poison as strychnine into the body by the same forces that +will remove the lead." + +He paused a moment, to enforce the point which had already been +suggested. I glanced about hastily. If anyone in his little +audience was guilty, no one betrayed it, for all were following +him, fascinated. Yet in the wildly throbbing brain of some one of +them the guilty knowledge must be seared indelibly. Would the mere +accusation be enough to dissociate the truth from, that brain or +would Kennedy have to resort to other means? + +"Some one," he went on, in a low, tense voice, leaning forward, +"some one who knew this effect placed strychnine salts on one of +the electrodes of the bath which Owen Minturn was to use." + +He did not pause. Evidently he was planning to let the force of +his exposure be cumulative, until from its sheer momentum it +carried everything before it. + +"Walter," he ordered quickly. "Lend me a hand." + +Together we moved the laboratory table as he directed. + +There, in the floor, concealed by the shadow, he had placed the +same apparatus which I had seen him bury in the path between the +Pearcy and Minturn estates at Stratfield. + +We scarcely breathed. + +"This," he explained rapidly, "is what is known as a kinograph-- +the invention of Professor HeleShaw of London. It enables me to +identify a person by his or her walk. Each of you as you entered +this room has passed over this apparatus and has left a different +mark on the paper which registers." + +For a moment he stopped, as if gathering strength for the final +assault. + +"Until late this afternoon I had this kinograph secreted at a +certain place in Stratfield. Some one had tampered with the leaden +water pipes and the electric light cable. Fearful that the lead +poisoning brought on by electrolysis might not produce its result +in the intended victim, that person took advantage of the new +discoveries in electrolysis to complete that work by introducing +the deadly strychnine during the very process of cure of the lead +poisoning." + +He slapped down a copy of a newspaper. "In the news this morning I +told just enough of what I had discovered and colored it in such a +way that I was sure I would arouse apprehension. I did it because +I wanted to make the criminal revisit the real scene of the crime. +There was a double motive now--to remove the evidence and to check +the spread of the poisoning." + +He reached over, tore off the paper with a quick, decisive motion, +and laid it beside another strip, a little discolored by moisture, +as though the damp earth had touched it. + +"That person, alarmed lest something in the cleverly laid plot, +might be discovered, went to a certain spot to remove the traces +of the diabolical work which were hidden there. My kinograph shows +the footsteps, shows as plainly as if I had been present, the +exact person who tried to obliterate the evidence," + +An ashen pallor seemed to spread over the face of Miss Pearcy, as +Kennedy shot out the words. + +"That person," he emphasized, "had planned to put out of the way +one who had brought disgrace on the Pearcy family. It was an act +of private justice." + +Mrs. Pearcy could stand the strain no longer. She had broken down +and was weeping incoherently. I strained my ears to catch what she +was murmuring. It was Minturn's name, not Gunther's, that was on +her lips. + +"But," cried Kennedy, raising an accusatory finger from the +kinograph tracing and pointing it like the finger of Fate itself, +"but the self-appointed avenger forgot that the leaden water pipe +was common to the two houses. Old Mr. Pearcy, the wronged, died +first. Isabel has guessed the family skeleton--has tried hard to +shield you, but, Warner Pearcy, you are the murderer!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +THE EUGENIC BRIDE + + +Scandal, such as that which Kennedy unearthed in this Pearcy case, +was never much to his liking, yet he seemed destined, about this +period of his career, to have a good deal of it. + +We had scarcely finished with the indictment that followed the +arrest of young Pearcy, when we were confronted by a situation +which was as unique as it was intensely modern. + +"There's absolutely no insanity in Eugenia's family," I heard a +young man remark to Kennedy, as my key turned in the lock of the +laboratory door. + +For a moment I hesitated about breaking in on a confidential +conference, then reflected that, as they had probably already +heard me at the lock, I had better go in and excuse myself. + +As I swung the door open, I saw a young man pacing up and down the +laboratory nervously, too preoccupied even to notice the slight +noise I had made. + +He paused in his nervous walk and faced Kennedy, his back to me. + +"Kennedy," he said huskily, "I wouldn't care if there was insanity +in her family--for, my God!--the tragedy of it all now--I love +her!" + +He turned, following Kennedy's eyes in my direction, and I saw on +his face the most haggard, haunting look of anxiety that I had +ever seen on a young person. + +Instantly I recognized from the pictures I had seen in the +newspapers young Quincy Atherton, the last of this famous line of +the family, who had attracted a great deal of attention several +months previously by what the newspapers had called his search +through society for a "eugenics bride," to infuse new blood into +the Atherton stock. + +"You need have no fear that Mr. Jameson will be like the other +newspaper men," reassured Craig, as he introduced us, mindful of +the prejudice which the unpleasant notoriety of Atherton's +marriage had already engendered in his mind. + +I recalled that when I had first heard of Atherton's "eugenic +marriage," I had instinctively felt a prejudice against the very +idea of such cold, calculating, materialistic, scientific mating, +as if one of the last fixed points were disappearing in the chaos +of the social and sex upheaval. + +Now, I saw that one great fact of life must always remain. We +might ride in hydroaeroplanes, delve into the very soul by +psychanalysis, perhaps even run our machines by the internal +forces of radium--even marry according to Galton or Mendel. But +there would always be love, deep passionate love of the man for +the woman, love which all the discoveries of science might perhaps +direct a little less blindly, but the consuming flame of which not +all the coldness of science could ever quench. No tampering with +the roots of human nature could ever change the roots. + +I must say that I rather liked young Atherton. He had a frank, +open face, the most prominent feature of which was his somewhat +aristocratic nose. Otherwise he impressed one as being the victim +of heredity in faults, if at all serious, against which he was +struggling heroically. + +It was a most pathetic story which he told, a story of how his +family had degenerated from the strong stock of his ancestors +until he was the last of the line. He told of his education, how +he had fallen, a rather wild youth bent in the footsteps of his +father who had been a notoriously good clubfellow, under the +influence of a college professor, Dr. Crafts, a classmate of his +father's, of how the professor had carefully and persistently +fostered in him an idea that had completely changed him. + +"Crafts always said it was a case of eugenics against euthenics," +remarked Atherton, "of birth against environment. He would tell me +over and over that birth gave me the clay, and it wasn't such bad +clay after all, but that environment would shape the vessel." + +Then Atherton launched into a description of how he had striven to +find a girl who had the strong qualities his family germ plasm +seemed to have lost, mainly, I gathered, resistance to a taint +much like manic depressive insanity. And as he talked, it was +borne in on me that, after all, contrary to my first prejudice, +there was nothing very romantic indeed about disregarding the +plain teachings of science on the subject of marriage and one's +children. + +In his search for a bride, Dr. Crafts, who had founded a sort of +Eugenics Bureau, had come to advise him. Others may have looked up +their brides in Bradstreet's, or at least the Social Register. +Atherton had gone higher, had been overjoyed to find that a girl +he had met in the West, Eugenia Gilman, measured up to what his +friend told him were the latest teachings of science. He had been +overjoyed because, long before Crafts had told him, he had found +out that he loved her deeply. + +"And now," he went on, half choking with emotion, "she is +apparently suffering from just the same sort of depression as I +myself might suffer from if the recessive trait became active." + +"What do you mean, for instance?" asked Craig. + +"Well, for one thing, she has the delusion that my relatives are +persecuting her." + +"Persecuting her?" repeated Craig, stifling the remark that that +was not in itself a new thing in this or any other family. "How?" + +"Oh, making her feel that, after all, it is Atherton family rather +than Gilman health that counts--little remarks that when our baby +is born, they hope it will resemble Quincy rather than Eugenia, +and all that sort of thing, only worse and more cutting, until the +thing has begun to prey on her mind." + +"I see," remarked Kennedy thoughtfully. "But don't you think this +is a case for a--a doctor, rather than a detective?" + +Atherton glanced up quickly. "Kennedy," he answered slowly, "where +millions of dollars are involved, no one can guess to what lengths +the human mind will go--no one, except you." + +"Then you have suspicions of something worse?" + +"Y-yes--but nothing definite. Now, take this case. If I should die +childless, after my wife, the Atherton estate would descend to my +nearest relative, Burroughs Atherton, a cousin." + +"Unless you willed it to--" + +"I have already drawn a will," he interrupted, "and in case I +survive Eugenia and die childless, the money goes to the founding +of a larger Eugenics Bureau, to prevent in the future, as much as +possible, tragedies such as this of which I find myself a part. If +the case is reversed, Eugenia will get her third and the remainder +will go to the Bureau or the Foundation, as I call the new +venture. But," and here young Atherton leaned forward and fixed +his large eyes keenly on us, "Burroughs might break the will. He +might show that I was of unsound mind, or that Eugenia was, too." + +"Are there no other relatives?" + +"Burroughs is the nearest," he replied, then added frankly, "I +have a second cousin, a young lady named Edith Atherton, with whom +both Burroughs and I used to be very friendly." + +It was evident from the way he spoke that he had thought a great +deal about Edith Atherton, and still thought well of her. + +"Your wife thinks it is Burroughs who is persecuting her?" asked +Kennedy. + +Atherton shrugged his shoulders. + +"Does she get along badly with Edith? She knows her I presume?" + +"Of course. The fact is that since the death of her mother, Edith +has been living with us. She is a splendid girl, and all alone in +the world now, and I had hopes that in New York she might meet +some one and marry well." + +Kennedy was looking squarely at Atherton, wondering whether he +might ask a question without seeming impertinent. Atherton caught +the look, read it, and answered quite frankly, "To tell the truth, +I suppose I might have married Edith, before I met Eugenia, if +Professor Crafts had not dissuaded me. But it wouldn't have been +real love--nor wise. You know," he went on more frankly, now that +the first hesitation was over and he realized that if he were to +gain anything at all by Kennedy's services, there must be the +utmost candor between them, "you know cousins may marry if the +stocks are known to be strong. But if there is a defect, it is +almost sure to be intensified. And so I--I gave up the idea--never +had it, in fact, so strongly as to propose to her. And when I met +Eugenia all the Athertons on the family tree couldn't have bucked +up against the combination." + +He was deadly in earnest as he arose from the chair into which he +had dropped after I came in. + +"Oh, it's terrible--this haunting fear, this obsession that I have +had, that, in spite of all I have tried to do, some one, somehow, +will defeat me. Then comes the situation, just at a time when +Eugenia and I feel that we have won against Fate, and she in +particular needs all the consideration and care in the world--and- +-and I am defeated." + +Atherton was again pacing the laboratory. + +"I have my car waiting outside," he pleaded. "I wish you would go +with me to see Eugenia--now." + +It was impossible to resist him. Kennedy rose and I followed, not +without a trace of misgiving. + +The Atherton mansion was one of the old houses of the city, a +somber stone dwelling with a garden about it on a downtown square, +on which business was already encroaching. We were admitted by a +servant who seemed to walk over the polished floors with stealthy +step as if there was something sacred about even the Atherton +silence. As we waited in a high-ceilinged drawing-room with +exquisite old tapestries on the walls, I could not help feeling +myself the influence of wealth and birth that seemed to cry out +from every object of art in the house. + +On the longer wall of the room, I saw a group of paintings. One, I +noted especially, must have been Atherton's ancestor, the founder +of the line. There was the same nose in Atherton, for instance, a +striking instance of heredity. I studied the face carefully. There +was every element of strength in it, and I thought instinctively +that, whatever might have been the effects of in-breeding and bad +alliances, there must still be some of that strength left in the +present descendant of the house of Atherton. The more I thought +about the house, the portrait, the whole case, the more unable was +I to get out of my head a feeling that though I had not been in +such a position before, I had at least read or heard something of +which it vaguely reminded me. + +Eugenia Atherton was reclining listlessly in her room in a deep +leather easy chair, when Atherton took us up at last. She did not +rise to greet us, but I noted that she was attired in what Kennedy +once called, as we strolled up the Avenue, "the expensive +sloppiness of the present styles." In her case the looseness with +which her clothes hung was exaggerated by the lack of energy with +which she wore them. + +She had been a beautiful girl, I knew. In fact, one could see that +she must have been. Now, however, she showed marks of change. Her +eyes were large, and protruding, not with the fire of passion +which is often associated with large eyes, but dully, set in a +puffy face, a trifle florid. Her hands seemed, when she moved +them, to shake with an involuntary tremor, and in spite of the +fact that one almost could feel that her heart and lungs were +speeding with energy, she had lost weight and no longer had the +full, rounded figure of health. Her manner showed severe mental +disturbance, indifference, depression, a distressing +deterioration. All her attractive Western breeziness was gone. One +felt the tragedy of it only too keenly. + +"I have asked Professor Kennedy, a specialist, to call, my dear," +said Atherton gently, without mentioning what the specialty was. + +"Another one?" she queried languorously. + +There was a colorless indifference in the tone which was almost +tragic. She said the words slowly and deliberately, as though even +her mind worked that way. + +From the first, I saw that Kennedy had been observing Eugenia +Atherton keenly. And in the role of specialist in nervous diseases +he was enabled to do what otherwise would have been difficult to +accomplish. + +Gradually, from observing her mental condition of indifference +which made conversation extremely difficult as well as profitless, +he began to consider her physical condition. I knew him well +enough to gather from his manner alone as he went on that what had +seemed at the start to be merely a curious case, because it +concerned the Athertons, was looming up in his mind as unusual in +itself, and was interesting him because it baffled him. + +Craig had just discovered that her pulse was abnormally high, and +that consequently she had a high temperature, and was sweating +profusely. + +"Would you mind turning your head, Mrs. Atherton?" he asked. + +She turned slowly, half way, her eyes fixed vacantly on the floor +until we could see the once striking profile. + +"No, all the way around, if you please," added Kennedy. + +She offered no objection, not the slightest resistance. As she +turned her head as far as she could, Kennedy quickly placed his +forefinger and thumb gently on her throat, the once beautiful +throat, now with skin harsh and rough. Softly he moved his fingers +just a fraction of an inch over the so-called "Adam's apple" and +around it for a little distance. + +"Thank you," he said. "Now around to the other side." + +He made no other remark as he repeated the process, but I fancied +I could tell that he had had an instant suspicion of something the +moment he touched her throat. + +He rose abstractedly, bowed, and we started to leave the room, +uncertain whether she knew or cared. Quincy had fixed his eyes +silently on Craig, as if imploring him to speak, but I knew how +unlikely that was until he had confirmed his suspicion to the last +slightest detail. + +We were passing through a dressing room in the suite when we met a +tall young woman, whose face I instantly recognized, not because I +had ever seen it before, but because she had the Atherton nose so +prominently developed. + +"My cousin, Edith," introduced Quincy. + +We bowed and stood for a moment chatting. There seemed to be no +reason why we should leave the suite, since Mrs. Atherton paid so +little attention to us even when we had been in the same room. Yet +a slight movement in her room told me that in spite of her +lethargy she seemed to know that we were there and to recognize +who had joined us. + +Edith Atherton was a noticeable woman, a woman of temperament, not +beautiful exactly, but with a stateliness about her, an aloofness. +The more I studied her face, with its thin sensitive lips and +commanding, almost imperious eyes, the more there seemed to be +something peculiar about her. She was dressed very simply in +black, but it was the simplicity that costs. One thing was quite +evident--her pride in the family of Atherton. + +And as we talked, it seemed to be that she, much more than Eugenia +in her former blooming health, was a part of the somber house. +There came over me again the impression I had received before that +I had read or heard something like this case before. + +She did not linger long, but continued her stately way into the +room where Eugenia sat. And at once it flashed over me what my +impression, indefinable, half formed, was. I could not help +thinking, as I saw her pass, of the lady Madeline in "The Fall of +the House of Usher." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +THE GERM PLASM + + +I regarded her with utter astonishment and yet found it impossible +to account for such a feeling. I looked at Atherton, but on his +face I could see nothing but a sort of questioning fear that only +increased my illusion, as if he, too, had only a vague, haunting +premonition of something terrible impending. Almost I began to +wonder whether the Atherton house might not crumble under the +fierceness of a sudden whirlwind, while the two women in this +case, one representing the wasted past, the other the blasted +future, dragged Atherton down, as the whole scene dissolved into +some ghostly tarn. It was only for a moment, and then I saw that +the more practical Kennedy had been examining some bottles on the +lady's dresser before which we had paused. + +One was a plain bottle of pellets which might have been some +homeopathic remedy. + +"Whatever it is that is the matter with Eugenia," remarked +Atherton, "it seems to have baffled the doctors so far." + +Kennedy said nothing, but I saw that he had clumsily overturned +the bottle and absently set it up again, as though his thoughts +were far away. Yet with a cleverness that would have done credit +to a professor of legerdemain he had managed to extract two or +three of the pellets. + +"Yes," he said, as he moved slowly toward the staircase in the +wide hall, "most baffling." + +Atherton was plainly disappointed. Evidently he had expected +Kennedy to arrive at the truth and set matters right by some +sudden piece of wizardry, and it was with difficulty that he +refrained from saying so. + +"I should like to meet Burroughs Atherton," he remarked as we +stood in the wide hall on the first floor of the big house. "Is he +a frequent visitor?" + +"Not frequent," hastened Quincy Atherton, in a tone that showed +some satisfaction in saying it. "However, by a lucky chance he has +promised to call to-night--a mere courtesy, I believe, to Edith, +since she has come to town on a visit." + +"Good!" exclaimed Kennedy. "Now, I leave it to you, Atherton, to +make some plausible excuse for our meeting Burroughs here." + +"I can do that easily." + +"I shall be here early," pursued Kennedy as we left. + +Back again in the laboratory to which Atherton insisted on +accompanying us in his car, Kennedy busied himself for a few +minutes, crushing up one of the tablets and trying one or two +reactions with some of the powder dissolved, while I looked on +curiously. + +"Craig," I remarked contemplatively, after a while, "how about +Atherton himself? Is he really free from the--er--stigmata, I +suppose you call them, of insanity?" + +"You mean, may the whole trouble lie with him?" he asked, not +looking up from his work. + +"Yes--and the effect on her be a sort of reflex, say, perhaps the +effect of having sold herself for money and position. In other +words, does she, did she, ever love him? We don't know that. Might +it not prey on her mind, until with the kind help of his precious +relatives even Nature herself could not stand the strain-- +especially in the delicate condition in which she now finds +herself?" + +I must admit that I felt the utmost sympathy for the poor girl +whom we had just seen such a pitiable wreck. + +Kennedy closed his eyes tightly until they wrinkled at the +corners. + +"I think I have found out the immediate cause of her trouble," he +said simply, ignoring my suggestion. + +"What is it?" I asked eagerly. + +"I can't imagine how they could have failed to guess it, except +that they never would have suspected to look for anything +resembling exophthalmic goiter in a person of her stamina," he +answered, pronouncing the word slowly. "You have heard of the +thyroid gland in the neck?" + +"Yes?" I queried, for it was a mere name to me. + +"It is a vascular organ lying under the chin with a sort of little +isthmus joining the two parts on either side of the windpipe," he +explained. "Well, when there is any deterioration of those glands +through any cause, all sorts of complications may arise. The +thyroid is one of the so-called ductless glands, like the adrenals +above the kidneys, the pineal gland and the pituitary body. In +normal activity they discharge into the blood substances which are +carried to other organs and are now known to be absolutely +essential. + +"The substances which they secrete are called 'hormones'--those +chemical messengers, as it were, by which many of the processes of +the body are regulated. In fact, no field of experimental +physiology is richer in interest than this. It seems that few +ordinary drugs approach in their effects on metabolism the +hormones of the thyroid. In excess they produce such diseases as +exophthalmic goiter, and goiter is concerned with the enlargement +of the glands and surrounding tissues beyond anything like natural +size. Then, too, a defect in the glands causes the disease known +as myxedema in adults and cretinism in children. Most of all, the +gland seems to tell on the germ plasm of the body, especially in +women." + +I listened in amazement, hardly knowing what to think. Did his +discovery portend something diabolical, or was it purely a defect +in nature which Dr. Crafts of the Eugenics Bureau had overlooked? + +"One thing at a time, Walter," cautioned Kennedy, when I put the +question to him, scarcely expecting an answer yet. + +That night in the old Atherton mansion, while we waited for +Borroughs to arrive, Kennedy, whose fertile mind had contrived to +kill at least two birds with one stone, busied himself by cutting +in on the regular telephone line and placing an extension of his +own in a closet in the library. To it he attached an ordinary +telephone receiver fastened to an arrangement which was strange to +me. As nearly as I can describe it, between the diaphragm of the +regular receiver and a brownish cylinder, like that of a +phonograph, and with a needle attached, was fitted an air chamber +of small size, open to the outer air by a small hole to prevent +compression. + +The work was completed expeditiously, but we had plenty of time to +wait, for Borroughs Atherton evidently did not consider that an +evening had fairly begun until nine o'clock. + +He arrived at last, however, rather tall, slight of figure, +narrow-shouldered, designed for the latest models of imported +fabrics. It was evident merely by shaking hands with Burroughs +that he thought both the Athertons and the Burroughses just the +right combination. He was one of those few men against whom I +conceive an instinctive prejudice, and in this case I felt +positive that, whatever faults the Atherton germ plasm might +contain, he had combined others from the determiners of that of +the other ancestors he boasted. I could not help feeling that +Eugenia Atherton was in about as unpleasant an atmosphere of +social miasma as could be imagined. + +Burroughs asked politely after Eugenia, but it was evident that +the real deference was paid to Edith Atherton and that they got +along very well together. Burroughs excused himself early, and we +followed soon after. + +"I think I shall go around to this Eugenics Bureau of Dr. Crafts," +remarked Kennedy the next day, after a night's consideration of +the case. + +The Bureau occupied a floor in a dwelling house uptown which had +been remodeled into an office building. Huge cabinets were stacked +up against the walls, and in them several women were engaged in +filing blanks and card records. Another part of the office +consisted of an extensive library on eugenic subjects. + +Dr. Crafts, in charge of the work, whom we found in a little +office in front partitioned off by ground glass, was an old man +with an alert, vigorous mind on whom the effects of plain living +and high thinking showed plainly. He was looking over some new +blanks with a young woman who seemed to be working with him, +directing the force of clerks as well as the "field workers," who +were gathering the vast mass of information which was being +studied. As we introduced ourselves, he introduced Dr. Maude +Schofield. + +"I have heard of your eugenic marriage contests," began Kennedy, +"more especially of what you have done for Mr. Quincy Atherton." + +"Well--not exactly a contest in that case, at least," corrected +Dr. Crafts with an indulgent smile for a layman. + +"No," put in Dr. Schofield, "the Eugenics Bureau isn't a human +stock farm." + +"I see," commented Kennedy, who had no such idea, anyhow. He was +always lenient with anyone who had what he often referred to as +the "illusion of grandeur." + +"We advise people sometimes regarding the desirability or the +undesirability of marriage," mollified Dr. Crafts. "This is a sort +of clearing house for scientific race investigation and +improvement." + +"At any rate," persisted Kennedy, "after investigation, I +understand, you advised in favor of his marriage with Miss +Gilman." + +"Yes, Eugenia Gilman seemed to measure well up to the requirements +in such a match. Her branch of the Gilmans has always been of the +vigorous, pioneering type, as well as intellectual. Her father was +one of the foremost thinkers in the West; in fact had long held +ideas on the betterment of the race. You see that in the choice of +a name for his daughter--Eugenia." + +"Then there were no recessive traits in her family," asked Kennedy +quickly, "of the same sort that you find in the Athertons?" + +"None that we could discover," answered Dr. Crafts positively. + +"No epilepsy, no insanity of any form?" + +"No. Of course, you understand that almost no one is what might be +called eugenically perfect. Strictly speaking, perhaps not over +two or three per cent. of the population even approximates that +standard. But it seemed to me that in everything essential in this +case, weakness latent in Atherton was mating strength in Eugenia +and the same way on her part for an entirely different set of +traits." + +"Still," considered Kennedy, "there might have been something +latent in her family germ plasm back of the time through which you +could trace it?" + +Dr. Crafts shrugged his shoulders. "There often is, I must admit, +something we can't discover because it lies too far back in the +past." + +"And likely to crop out after skipping generations," put in Maude +Schofield. + +She evidently did not take the same liberal view in the practical +application of the matter expressed by her chief. I set it down to +the ardor of youth in a new cause, which often becomes the saner +conservatism of maturity. + +"Of course, you found it much easier than usual to get at the true +family history of the Athertons," pursued Kennedy. "It is an old +family and has been prominent for generations." + +"Naturally," assented Dr. Crafts. + +"You know Burroughs Atherton on both lines of descent?" asked +Kennedy, changing the subject abruptly. + +"Yes, fairly well," answered Crafts. + +"Now, for example," went on Craig, "how would you advise him to +marry?" + +I saw at once that he was taking this subterfuge as a way of +securing information which might otherwise have been withheld if +asked for directly. Maude Schofield also saw it, I fancied, but +this time said nothing. "They had a grandfather who was a manic +depressive on the Atherton side," said Crafts slowly. "Now, no +attempt has ever been made to breed that defect out of the family. +In the case of Burroughs, it is perhaps a little worse, for the +other side of his ancestry is not free from the taint of +alcoholism." + +"And Edith Atherton?" + +"The same way. They both carry it. I won't go into the Mendelian +law on the subject. We are clearing up much that is obscure. But +as to Burroughs, he should marry, if at all, some one without that +particular taint. I believe that in a few generations by proper +mating most taints might be bred out of families." + +Maude Schofield evidently did not agree with Dr. Crafts on some +point, and, noticing it, he seemed to be in the position both of +explaining his contention to us and of defending it before his +fair assistant. + +"It is my opinion, as far as I have gone with the data," he added, +"that there is hope for many of those whose family history shows +certain nervous taints. A sweeping prohibition of such marriages +would be futile, perhaps injurious. It is necessary that the +mating be carefully made, however, to prevent intensifying the +taint. You see, though I am a eugenist I am not an extremist." + +He paused, then resumed argumentatively: "Then there are other +questions, too, like that of genius with its close relation to +manic depressive insanity. Also, there is decrease enough in the +birth rate, without adding an excuse for it. No, that a young man +like Atherton should take the subject seriously, instead of +spending his time in wild dissipation, like his father, is +certainly creditable, argues in itself that there still must exist +some strength in his stock. + +"And, of course," he continued warmly, "when I say that weakness +in a trait--not in all traits, by any means--should marry strength +and that strength may marry weakness, I don't mean that all +matches should be like that. If we are too strict we may prohibit +practically all marriages. In Atherton's case, as in many another, +I felt that I should interpret the rule as sanely as possible." + +"Strength should marry strength, and weakness should never marry," +persisted Maude Schofield. "Nothing short of that will satisfy the +true eugenist." + +"Theoretically," objected Crafts. "But Atherton was going to +marry, anyhow. The only thing for me to do was to lay down a rule +which he might follow safely. Besides, any other rule meant sure +disaster." + +"It was the only rule with half a chance of being followed and at +any rate," drawled Kennedy, as the eugenists wrangled, "what +difference does it make in this case? As nearly as I can make out +it is Mrs. Atherton herself, not Atherton, who is ill." + +Maude Schofield had risen to return to supervising a clerk who +needed help. She left us, still unconvinced. + +"That is a very clever girl," remarked Kennedy as she shut the +door and he scanned Dr. Crafts' face dosely. + +"Very," assented the Doctor. + +"The Schofields come of good stock?" hazarded Kennedy. + +"Very," assented Dr. Crafts again. + +Evidently he did not care to talk about individual cases, and I +felt that the rule was a safe one, to prevent Eugenics from +becoming Gossip. Kennedy thanked him for his courtesy, and we left +apparently on the best of terms both with Crafts and his +assistant. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +THE SEX CONTROL + + +I did not see Kennedy again that day until late in the afternoon, +when he came into the laboratory carrying a small package. + +"Theory is one thing, practice is another," he remarked, as he +threw his hat and coat into a chair. + +"Which means--in this case?" I prompted. + +"Why, I have just seen Atherton. Of course I didn't repeat our +conversation of this morning, and I'm glad I didn't. He almost +makes me think you are right, Walter. He's obsessed by the fear of +Burroughs. Why, he even told me that Burroughs had gone so far as +to take a leaf out of his book, so to speak, get in touch with the +Eugenics Bureau as if to follow his footsteps, but really to pump +them about Atherton himself. Atherton says it's all Burroughs' +plan to break his will and that the fellow has even gone so far as +to cultivate the acquaintance of Maude Schofield, knowing that he +will get no sympathy from Crafts." + +"First it was Edith Atherton, now it is Maude Schofield that he +hitches up with Burroughs," I commented. "Seems to me that I have +heard that one of the first signs of insanity is belief that +everyone about the victim is conspiring against him. I haven't any +love for any of them--but I must be fair." + +"Well," said Kennedy, unwrapping the package, "there IS this much +to it. Atherton says Burroughs and Maude Schofield have been seen +together more than once--and not at intellectual gatherings +either. Burroughs is a fascinating fellow to a woman, if he wants +to be, and the Schofields are at least the social equals of the +Burroughs. Besides," he added, "in spite of eugenics, feminism, +and all the rest--sex, like murder, will out. There's no use +having any false ideas about THAT. Atherton may see red--but, +then, he was quite excited." + +"Over what?" I asked, perplexed more than ever at the turn of +events. + +"He called me up in the first place. 'Can't you do something?' he +implored. 'Eugenia is getting worse all the time.' She is, too. I +saw her for a moment, and she was even more vacant than +yesterday." + +The thought of the poor girl in the big house somehow brought over +me again my first impression of Poe's story. + +Kennedy had unwrapped the package which proved to be the +instrument he had left in the closet at Atherton's. It was, as I +had observed, like an ordinary wax cylinder phonograph record. + +"You see," explained Kennedy, "it is nothing more than a +successful application at last of, say, one of those phonographs +you have seen in offices for taking dictation, placed so that the +feebler vibrations of the telephone affect it. Let us see what we +have here." + +He had attached the cylinder to an ordinary phonograph, and after +a number of routine calls had been run off, he came to this, in +voices which we could only guess at but not recognize, for no +names were used. + +"How is she to-day?" + +"Not much changed--perhaps not so well." + +"It's all right, though. That is natural. It is working well. I +think you might increase the dose, one tablet." + +"You're sure it is all right?" (with anxiety). + +"Oh, positively--it has been done in Europe." + +"I hope so. It must be a boy--and an ATHERTON?" + +"Never fear." + +That was all. Who was it? The voices were unfamiliar to me, +especially when repeated mechanically. Besides they may have been +disguised. At any rate we had learned something. Some one was +trying to control the sex of the expected Atherton heir. But that +was about all. Who it was, we knew no better, apparently, than +before. + +Kennedy did not seem to care much, however. Quickly he got Quincy +Atherton on the wire and arranged for Atherton to have Dr. Crafts +meet us at the house at eight o'clock that night, with Maude +Schofield. Then he asked that Burroughs Atherton be there, and of +course, Edith and Eugenia. + +We arrived almost as the clock was striking, Kennedy carrying the +phonograph record and another blank record, and a boy tugging +along the machine itself. Dr. Crafts was the next to appear, +expressing surprise at meeting us, and I thought a bit annoyed, +for he mentioned that it had been with reluctance that he had had +to give up some work he had planned for the evening. Maude +Schofield, who came with him, looked bored. Knowing that she +disapproved of the match with Eugenia, I was not surprised. +Burroughs arrived, not as late as I had expected, but almost +insultingly supercilious at finding so many strangers at what +Atherton had told him was to be a family conference, in order to +get him to come. Last of all Edith Atherton descended the +staircase, the personification of dignity, bowing to each with a +studied graciousness, as if distributing largess, but greeting +Burroughs with an air that plainly showed how much thicker was +blood than water. Eugenia remained upstairs, lethargic, almost +cataleptic, as Atherton told us when we arrived. + +"I trust you are not going to keep us long, Quincy," yawned +Burroughs, looking ostentatiously at his watch. + +"Only long enough for Professor Kennedy to say a few words about +Eugenia," replied Atherton nervously, bowing to Kennedy. + +Kennedy cleared his throat slowly. + +"I don't know that I have much to say," began Kennedy, still +seated. "I suppose Mr. Atherton has told you I have been much +interested in the peculiar state of health of Mrs. Atherton?" + +No one spoke, and he went on easily: "There is something I might +say, however, about the--er--what I call the chemistry of +insanity. Among the present wonders of science, as you doubtless +know, none stirs the imagination so powerfully as the doctrine +that at least some forms of insanity are the result of chemical +changes in the blood. For instance, ill temper, intoxication, many +things are due to chemical changes in the blood acting on the +brain. + +"Go further back. Take typhoid fever with its delirium, influenza +with its suicide mania. All due to toxins--poisons. Chemistry-- +chemistry--all of them chemistry." + +Craig had begun carefully so as to win their attention. He had it +as he went on: "Do we not brew within ourselves poisons which +enter the circulation and pervade the system? A sudden emotion +upsets the chemistry of the body. Or poisonous food. Or a drug. It +affects many things. But we could never have had this chemical +theory unless we had had physiological chemistry--and some carry +it so far as to say that the brain secretes thought, just as the +liver secretes bile, that thoughts are the results of molecular +changes." + +"You are, then, a materialist of the most pronounced type," +asserted Dr. Crafts. + +Kennedy had been reaching over to a table, toying with the +phonograph. As Crafts spoke he moved a key, and I suspected that +it was in order to catch the words. + +"Not entirely," he said. "No more than some eugenists." + +"In our field," put in Maude Schofield, "I might express the +thought this way--the sociologist has had his day; now it is the +biologist, the eugenist." + +"That expresses it," commented Kennedy, still tinkering with the +record. "Yet it does not mean that because we have new ideas, they +abolish the old. Often they only explain, amplify, supplement. For +instance," he said, looking up at Edith Atherton, "take heredity. +Our knowledge seems new, but is it? Marriages have always been +dictated by a sort of eugenics. Society is founded on that." + +"Precisely," she answered. "The best families have always married +into the best families. These modern notions simply recognize what +the best people have always thought--except that it seems to me," +she added with a sarcastic flourish, "people of no ancestry are +trying to force themselves in among their betters." + +"Very true, Edith," drawled Burroughs, "but we did not have to be +brought here by Quincy to learn that." + +Quincy Atherton had risen during the discussion and had approached +Kennedy. Craig continued to finger the phonograph abstractedly, as +he looked up. + +"About this--this insanity theory," he whispered eagerly. "You +think that the suspicions I had have been justified?" + +I had been watching Kennedy's hand. As soon as Atherton had +started to speak, I saw that Craig, as before, had moved the key, +evidently registering what he said, as he had in the case of the +others during the discussion. + +"One moment, Atherton," he whispered in reply, "I'm coming to +that. Now," he resumed aloud, "there is a disease, or a number of +diseases, to which my remarks about insanity a while ago might +apply very well. They have been known for some time to arise from +various affections of the thyroid glands in the neck. These +glands, strange to say, if acted on in certain ways can cause +degenerations of mind and body, which are well known, but in spite +of much study are still very little understood. For example, there +is a definite interrelation between them and sex--especially in +woman." + +Rapidly he sketched what he had already told me of the thyroid and +the hormones. "These hormones," added Kennedy, "are closely +related to many reactions in the body, such as even the mother's +secretion of milk at the proper time and then only. That and many +other functions are due to the presence and character of these +chemical secretions from the thyroid and other ductless glands. It +is a fascinating study. For we know that anything that will upset- +-reduce or increase--the hormones is a matter intimately concerned +with health. Such changes," he said earnestly, leaning forward, +"might be aimed directly at the very heart of what otherwise would +be a true eugenic marriage. It is even possible that loss of sex +itself might be made to follow deep changes of the thyroid." + +He stopped a moment. Even if he had accomplished nothing else he +had struck a note which had caused the Athertons to forget their +former superciliousness. + +"If there is an oversupply of thyroid hormones," continued Craig, +"that excess will produce many changes, for instance a condition +very much like exophthalmic goiter. And," he said, straightening +up, "I find that Eugenia Atherton has within her blood an undue +proportion of these thyroid hormones. Now, is it overfunction of +the glands, hyper-secretion--or is it something else?" + +No one moved as Kennedy skillfully led his disclosure along step +by step. + +"That question," he began again slowly, shifting his position in +the chair, "raises in my mind, at least, a question which has +often occurred to me before. Is it possible for a person, taking +advantage of the scientific knowledge we have gained, to devise +and successfully execute a murder without fear of discovery? In +other words, can a person be removed with that technical nicety of +detail which will leave no clue and will be set down as something +entirely natural, though unfortunate?" + +It was a terrible idea he was framing, and he dwelt on it so that +we might accept it at its full value. "As one doctor has said," he +added, "although toxicologists and chemists have not always +possessed infallible tests for practical use, it is at present a +pretty certain observation that every poison leaves its mark. But +then on the other hand, students of criminology have said that a +skilled physician or surgeon is about the only person now capable +of carrying out a really scientific murder. + +"Which is true? It seems to me, at least in the latter case, that +the very nicety of the handiwork must often serve as a clue in +itself. The trained hand leaves the peculiar mark characteristic +of its training. No matter how shrewdly the deed is planned, the +execution of it is daily becoming a more and more difficult feat, +thanks to our increasing knowledge of microbiology and pathology." + +He had risen, as he finished the sentence, every eye fixed on him, +as if he had been a master hypnotist. + +"Perhaps," he said, taking off the cylinder from the phonograph +and placing on one which I knew was that which had lain in the +library closet over night, "perhaps some of the things I have said +will explain or be explained by the record on this cylinder." + +He had started the machine. So magical was the effect on the +little audience that I am tempted to repeat what I had already +heard, but had not myself yet been able to explain: + +"How is she to-day?" + +"Not much changed--perhaps not so well." + +"It's all right, though. That is natural. It is working well. I +think you might increase the dose one tablet." + +"You're sure it is all right?" + +"Oh, positively--it has been done in Europe." + +"I hope so. It must be a boy--and an ATHERTON." + +"Never fear." + +No one moved a muscle. If there was anyone in the room guilty of +playing on the feelings and the health of an unfortunate woman, +that person must have had superb control of his own feelings. + +"As you know," resumed Kennedy thoughtfully, "there are and have +been many theories of sex control. One of the latest, but by no +means the only one, is that it can be done by use of the extracts +of various glands administered to the mother. I do not know with +what scientific authority it was stated, but I do know that some +one has recently said that adrenalin, derived from the suprarenal +glands, induces boys to develop--cholin, from the bile of the +liver, girls. It makes no difference--in this case. There may have +been a show of science. But it was to cover up a crime. Some one +has been administering to Eugenia Atherton tablets of thyroid +extract--ostensibly to aid her in fulfilling the dearest ambition +of her soul--to become the mother of a new line of Athertons which +might bear the same relation to the future of the country as the +great family of the Edwards mothered by Elizabeth Tuttle." + +He was bending over the two phonograph cylinders now, rapidly +comparing the new one which he had made and that which he had just +allowed to reel off its astounding revelation. + +"When a voice speaks into a phonograph," he said, half to himself, +"its modulations received on the diaphragm are written by a needle +point upon the surface of a cylinder or disk in a series of fine +waving or zigzag lines of infinitely varying depth or breadth. Dr. +Marage and others have been able to distinguish vocal sounds by +the naked eye on phonograph records. Mr. Edison has studied them +with the microscope in his world-wide search for the perfect +voice. + +"In fact, now it is possible to identify voices by the records +they make, to get at the precise meaning of each slightest +variation of the lines with mathematical accuracy. They can no +more be falsified than handwriting can be forged so that modern +science cannot detect it or than typewriting can be concealed and +attributed to another machine. The voice is like a finger print, a +portrait parle--unescapable." + +He glanced up, then back again. "This microscope shows me," he +said, "that the voices on that cylinder you heard are identical +with two on this record which I have just made in this room." + +"Walter," he said, motioning to me, "look." + +I glanced into the eyepiece and saw a series of lines and curves, +peculiar waves lapping together and making an appearance in some +spots almost like tooth marks. Although I did not understand the +details of the thing, I could readily see that by study one might +learn as much about it as about loops, whorls, and arches on +finger tips. + +"The upper and lower lines," he explained, "with long regular +waves, on that highly magnified section of the record, are formed +by the voice with no overtones. The three lines in the middle, +with rhythmic ripples, show the overtones." + +He paused a moment and faced us. "Many a person," he resumed, "is +a biotype in whom a full complement of what are called inhibitions +never develops. That is part of your eugenics. Throughout life, +and in spite of the best of training, that person reacts now and +then to a certain stimulus directly. A man stands high; once a +year he falls with a lethal quantity of alcohol. A woman, +brilliant, accomplished, slips away and spends a day with a lover +as unlike herself as can be imagined. + +"The voice that interests me most on these records," he went on, +emphasizing the words with one of the cylinders which he still +held, "is that of a person who has been working on the family +pride of another. That person has persuaded the other to +administer to Eugenia an extract because 'it must be a boy and an +Atherton.' That person is a high-class defective, born with a +criminal instinct, reacting to it in an artful way. Thank God, the +love of a man whom theoretical eugenics condemned, roused us in--" + +A cry at the door brought us all to our feet, with hearts thumping +as if they were bursting. + +It was Eugenia Atherton, wild-eyed, erect, staring. + +I stood aghast at the vision. Was she really to be the Lady +Madeline in this fall of the House of Atherton? + +"Edith--I--I missed you. I heard voices. Is--is it true--what this +man--says? Is my--my baby--" + +Quincy Atherton leaped forward and caught her as she reeled. +Quickly Craig threw open a window for air, and as he did so leaned +far out and blew shrilly on a police whistle. + +The young man looked up from Eugenia, over whom he was bending, +scarcely heeding what else went on about him. Still, there was no +trace of anger on his face, in spite of the great wrong that had +been done him. There was room for only one great emotion--only +anxiety for the poor girl who had suffered so cruelly merely for +taking his name. + +Kennedy saw the unspoken question in his eyes. + +"Eugenia is a pure normal, as Dr. Crafts told you," he said +gently. "A few weeks, perhaps only days, of treatment--the thyroid +will revert to its normal state--and Eugenia Gilman will be the +mother of a new house of Atherton which may eclipse even the proud +record of the founder of the old." + +"Who blew the whistle?" demanded a gruff voice at the door, as a +tall bluecoat puffed past the scandalized butler. + +"Arrest that woman," pointed Kennedy. "She is the poisoner. Either +as wife of Burroughs, whom she fascinates and controls as she does +Edith, she planned to break the will of Quincy or, in the other +event, to administer the fortune as head of the Eugenics +Foundation after the death of Dr. Crafts, who would have followed +Eugenia and Quincy Atherton." + +I followed the direction of Kennedy's accusing finger. Maude +Schofield's face betrayed more than even her tongue could have +confessed. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +THE BILLIONAIRE BABY + + +Coming to us directly as a result of the talk that the Atherton +case provoked was another that involved the happiness of a wealthy +family to a no less degree. + +"I suppose you have heard of the 'billionaire baby,' Morton +Hazleton III?" asked Kennedy of me one afternoon shortly +afterward. + +The mere mention of the name conjured up in my mind a picture of +the lusty two-year-old heir of two fortunes, as the feature +articles in the Star had described that little scion of wealth-- +his luxurious nursery, his magnificent toys, his own motor car, a +trained nurse and a detective on guard every hour of the day and +night, every possible precaution for his health and safety. + +"Gad, what a lucky kid!" I exclaimed involuntarily. + +"Oh, I don't know about that," put in Kennedy. "The fortune may be +exaggerated. His happiness is, I'm sure." + +He had pulled from his pocketbook a card and handed it to me. It +read: "Gilbert Butler, American representative, Lloyd's." + +"Lloyd's?" I queried. "What has Lloyd's to do with the billion- +dollar baby?" + +"Very much. The child has been insured with them for some fabulous +sum against accident, including kidnaping." + +"Yes?" I prompted, "sensing" a story. + +"Well, there seem to have been threats of some kind, I understand. +Mr. Butler has called on me once already to-day to retain my +services and is going to--ah--there he is again now." + +Kennedy had answered the door buzzer himself, and Mr. Butler, a +tall, sloping-shouldered Englishman, entered. + +"Has anything new developed?" asked Kennedy, introducing me. + +"I can't say," replied Butler dubiously. "I rather think we have +found something that may have a bearing on the case. You know Miss +Haversham, Veronica Haversham?" + +"The actress and professional beauty? Yes--at least I have seen +her. Why?" + +"We hear that Morton Hazleton knows her, anyhow," remarked Butler +dryly. + +"Well?" + +"Then you don't know the gossip?" he cut in. "She is said to be in +a sanitarium near the city. I'll have to find that out for you. +It's a fast set she has been traveling with lately, including not +only Hazleton, but Dr. Maudsley, the Hazleton physician, and one +or two others, who if they were poorer might be called desperate +characters." + +"Does Mrs. Hazleton know of--of his reputed intimacy?" + +"I can't say that, either. I presume that she is no fool." + +Morton Hazleton, Jr., I knew, belonged to a rather smart group of +young men. He had been mentioned in several near-scandals, but as +far as I knew there had been nothing quite as public and definite +as this one. + +"Wouldn't that account for her fears?" I asked. + +"Hardly," replied Butler, shaking his head. "You see, Mrs. +Hazleton is a nervous wreck, but it's about the baby, and caused, +she says, by her fears for its safety. It came to us only in a +roundabout way, through a servant in the house who keeps us in +touch. The curious feature is that we can seem to get nothing +definite from her about her fears. They may be groundless." + +Butler shrugged his shoulders and proceeded, "And they may be +well-founded. But we prefer to run no chances in a case of this +kind. The child, you know, is guarded in the house. In his +perambulator he is doubly guarded, and when he goes out for his +airing in the automobile, two men, the chauffeur and a detective, +are always there, besides his nurse, and often his mother or +grandmother. Even in the nursery suite they have iron shutters +which can be pulled down and padlocked at night and are +constructed so as to give plenty of fresh air even to a scientific +baby. Master Hazleton was the best sort of risk, we thought. But +now--we don't know." + +"You can protect yourselves, though," suggested Kennedy. + +"Yes, we have, under the policy, the right to take certain +measures to protect ourselves in addition to the precautions taken +by the Hazletons. We have added our own detective to those already +on duty. But we--we don't know what to guard against," he +concluded, perplexed. "We'd like to know--that's all. It's too big +a risk." + +"I may see Mrs. Hazleton?" mused Kennedy. + +"Yes. Under the circumstances she can scarcely refuse to see +anyone we send. I've arranged already for you to meet her within +an hour. Is that all right?" + +"Certainly." + +The Hazleton home in winter in the city was uptown, facing the +river. The large grounds adjoining made the Hazletons quite +independent of the daily infant parade which one sees along +Riverside Drive. + +As we entered the grounds we could almost feel the very atmosphere +on guard. We did not see the little subject of so much concern, +but I remembered his much heralded advent, when his grandparents +had settled a cold million on him, just as a reward for coming +into the world. Evidently, Morton, Sr., had hoped that Morton, +Jr., would calm down, now that there was a third generation to +consider. It seemed that he had not. I wondered if that had really +been the occasion of the threats or whatever it was that had +caused Mrs. Hazleton's fears, and whether Veronica Haversham or +any of the fast set around her had had anything to do with it. + +Millicent Hazleton was a very pretty little woman, in whom one saw +instinctively the artistic temperament. She had been an actress, +too, when young Morton Hazleton married her, and at first, at +least, they had seemed very devoted to each other. + +We were admitted to see her in her own library, a tastefully +furnished room on the second floor of the house, facing a garden +at the side. + +"Mrs. Hazleton," began Butler, smoothing the way for us, "of +course you realize that we are working in your interests. +Professor Kennedy, therefore, in a sense, represents both of us." + +"I am quite sure I shall be delighted to help you," she said with +an absent expression, though not ungraciously. + +Butler, having introduced us, courteously withdrew. "I leave this +entirely in your hands," he said, as he excused himself. "If you +want me to do anything more, call on me." + +I must say that I was much surprised at the way she had received +us. Was there in it, I wondered, an element of fear lest if she +refused to talk suspicion might grow even greater? One could see +anxiety plainly enough on her face, as she waited for Kennedy to +begin. + +A few moments of general conversation then followed. + +"Just what is it you fear?" he asked, after having gradually led +around to the subject. "Have there been any threatening letters?" + +"N-no," she hesitated, "at least nothing--definite." + +"Gossip?" he hinted. + +"No." She said it so positively that I fancied it might be taken +for a plain "Yes." + +"Then what is it?" he asked, very deferentially, but firmly. + +She had been looking out at the garden. "You couldn't understand," +she remarked. "No detective--" she stopped. + +"You may be sure, Mrs. Hazleton, that I have not come here +unnecessarily to intrude," he reassured her. "It is exactly as Mr. +Butler put it. We--want to help you." + +I fancied there seemed to be something compelling about his +manner. It was at once sympathetic and persuasive. Quite evidently +he was taking pains to break down the prejudice in her mind which +she had already shown toward the ordinary detective. + +"You would think me crazy," she remarked slowly. "But it is just +a--a dream--just dreams." + +I don't think she had intended to say anything, for she stopped +short and looked at him quickly as if to make sure whether he +could understand. As for myself, I must say I felt a little +skeptical. To my surprise, Kennedy seemed to take the statement at +its face value. + +"Ah," he remarked, "an anxiety dream? You will pardon me, Mrs. +Hazleton, but before we go further let me tell you frankly that I +am much more than an ordinary detective. If you will permit me, I +should rather have you think of me as a psychologist, a +specialist, one who has come to set your mind at rest rather than +to worm things from you by devious methods against which you have +to be on guard. It is just for such an unusual case as yours that +Mr. Butler has called me in. By the way, as our interview may last +a few minutes, would you mind sitting down? I think you'll find it +easier to talk if you can get your mind perfectly at rest, and for +the moment trust to the nurse and the detectives who are guarding +the garden, I am sure, perfectly." + +She had been standing by the window during the interview and was +quite evidently growing more and more nervous. With a bow Kennedy +placed her at her ease on a chaise lounge. + +"Now," he continued, standing near her, but out of sight, "you +must try to remain free from all external influences and +impressions. Don't move. Avoid every use of a muscle. Don't let +anything distract you. Just concentrate your attention on your +psychic activities. Don't suppress one idea as unimportant, +irrelevant, or nonsensical. Simply tell me what occurs to you in +connection with the dreams--everything," emphasized Craig. + +I could not help feeling surprised to find that she accepted +Kennedy's deferential commands, for after all that was what they +amounted to. Almost I felt that she was turning to him for help, +that he had broken down some barrier to her confidence. He seemed +to exert a sort of hypnotic influence over her. + +"I have had cases before which involved dreams," he was saying +quietly and reassuringly. "Believe me, I do not share the world's +opinion that dreams are nothing. Nor yet do I believe in them +superstitiously. I can readily understand how a dream can play a +mighty part in shaping the feelings of a high-tensioned woman. +Might I ask exactly what it is you fear in your dreams?" + +She sank her head back in the cushions, and for a moment closed +her eyes, half in weariness, half in tacit obedience to him. "Oh, +I have such horrible dreams," she said at length, "full of anxiety +and fear for Morton and little Morton. I can't explain it. But +they are so horrible." + +Kennedy said nothing. She was talking freely at last. + +"Only last night," she went on, "I dreamt that Morton was dead. I +could see the funeral, all the preparations, and the procession. +It seemed that in the crowd there was a woman. I could not see her +face, but she had fallen down and the crowd was around her. Then +Dr. Maudsley appeared. Then all of a sudden the dream changed. I +thought I was on the sand, at the seashore, or perhaps a lake. I +was with Junior and it seemed as if he were wading in the water, +his head bobbing up and down in the waves. It was like a desert, +too--the sand. I turned, and there was a lion behind me. I did not +seem to be afraid of him, although I was so close that I could +almost feel his shaggy mane. Yet I feared that he might bite +Junior. The next I knew I was running with the child in my arms. I +escaped--and--oh, the relief!" + +She sank back, half exhausted, half terrified still by the +recollection. + +"In your dream when Dr. Maudsley appeared," asked Kennedy, +evidently interested in filling in the gap, "what did he do?" + +"Do?" she repeated. "In the dream? Nothing." + +"Are you sure?" he asked, shooting a quick glance at her. + +"Yes. That part of the dream became indistinct. I'm sure he did +nothing, except shoulder through the crowd. I think he had just +entered. Then that part of the dream seemed to end and the second +part began." + +Piece by piece Kennedy went over it, putting it together as if it +were a mosaic. + +"Now, the woman. You say her face was hidden?" + +She hesitated. "N--no. I saw it. But it was no one I knew." + +Kennedy did not dwell on the contradiction, but added, "And the +crowd?" + +"Strangers, too." + +"Dr. Maudsley is your family physician?" he questioned. + +"Yes." + +"Did he call--er--yesterday?" + +"He calls every day to supervise the nurse who has Junior in +charge." + +"Could one always be true to oneself in the face of any +temptation?" he asked suddenly. + +It was a bold question. Yet such had been the gradual manner of +his leading up to it that, before she knew it, she had answered +quite frankly, "Yes--if one always thought of home and her child, +I cannot see how one could help controlling herself." + +She seemed to catch her breath, almost as though the words had +escaped her before she knew it. + +"Is there anything besides your dream that alarms you," he asked, +changing the subject quickly, "any suspicion of--say the +servants?" + +"No," she said, watching him now. "But some time ago we caught a +burglar upstairs here. He managed to escape. That has made me +nervous. I didn't think it was possible." + +"Anything else?" + +"No," she said positively, this time on her guard. + +Kennedy saw that she had made up her mind to say no more. + +"Mrs. Hazleton," he said, rising. "I can hardly thank you too much +for the manner in which you have met my questions. It will make it +much easier for me to quiet your fears. And if anything else +occurs to you, you may rest assured I shall violate no confidences +in your telling me." + +I could not help the feeling, however, that there was just a +little air of relief on her face as we left. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + +THE PSYCHANALYSIS + + +"H--M," mused Kennedy as we walked along after leaving the house. +"There were several 'complexes,' as they are called, there--the +most interesting and important being the erotic, as usual. Now, +take the lion in the dream, with his mane. That, I suspect, was +Dr. Maudsley. If you are acquainted with him, you will recall his +heavy, almost tawny beard." + +Kennedy seemed to be revolving something in his mind and I did not +interrupt. I had known him too long to feel that even a dream +might not have its value with him. Indeed, several times before he +had given me glimpses into the fascinating possibilities of the +new psychology. + +"In spite of the work of thousands of years, little progress has +been made in the scientific understanding of dreams," he remarked +a few moments later. "Freud, of Vienna--you recall the name?--has +done most, I think in that direction." + +I recalled something of the theories of the Freudists, but said +nothing. + +"It is an unpleasant feature of his philosophy," he went on, "but +Freud finds the conclusion irresistible that all humanity +underneath the shell is sensuous and sensual in nature. +Practically all dreams betray some delight of the senses and +sexual dreams are a large proportion. There is, according to the +theory, always a wish hidden or expressed in a dream. The dream is +one of three things, the open, the disguised or the distorted +fulfillment of a wish, sometimes recognized, sometimes repressed. + +"Anxiety dreams are among the most interesting and important +Anxiety may originate in psycho-sexual excitement, the repressed +libido, as the Freudists call it. Neurotic fear has its origin in +sexual life and corresponds to a libido which has been turned away +from its object and has not succeeded in being applied. All so- +called day dreams of women are erotic; of men they are either +ambition or love. + +"Often dreams, apparently harmless, turn out to be sinister if we +take pains to interpret them. All have the mark of the beast. For +example, there was that unknown woman who had fallen down and was +surrounded by a crowd. If a woman dreams that, it is sexual. It +can mean only a fallen woman. That is the symbolism. The crowd +always denotes a secret. + +"Take also the dream of death. If there is no sorrow felt, then +there is another cause for it. But if there is sorrow, then the +dreamer really desires death or absence. I expect to have you +quarrel with that. But read Freud, and remember that in childhood +death is synonymous with being away. Thus for example, if a girl +dreams that her mother is dead, perhaps it means only that she +wishes her away so that she can enjoy some pleasure that her +strict parent, by her presence, denies. + +"Then there was that dream about the baby in the water. That, I +think, was a dream of birth. You see, I asked her practically to +repeat the dreams because there were several gaps. At such points +one usually finds first hesitation, then something that shows one +of the main complexes. Perhaps the subject grows angry at the +discovery. + +"Now, from the tangle of the dream thought, I find that she fears +that her husband is too intimate with another woman, and that +perhaps unconsciously she has turned to Dr. Maudsley for sympathy. +Dr. Maudsley, as I said, is not only bearded, but somewhat of a +social lion. He had called on her the day before. Of such stuff +are all dream lions when there is no fear. But she shows that she +has been guilty of no wrongdoing--she escaped, and felt relieved." + +"I'm glad of that," I put in. "I don't like these scandals. On the +Star when I have to report them, I do it always under protest. I +don't know what your psychanalysis is going to show in the end, +but I for one have the greatest sympathy for that poor little +woman in the big house alone, surrounded by and dependent on +servants, while her husband is out collecting scandals." + +"Which suggests our next step," he said, turning the subject. "I +hope that Butler has found out the retreat of Veronica Haversham." + +We discovered Miss Haversham at last at Dr. Klemm's sanitarium, up +in the hills of Westchester County, a delightful place with a +reputation for its rest cures. Dr. Klemm was an old friend of +Kennedy's, having had some connection with the medical school at +the University. + +She had gone up there rather suddenly, it seemed, to recuperate. +At least that was what was given out, though there seemed to be +much mystery about her, and she was taking no treatment as far as +was known. + +"Who is her physician?" asked Kennedy of Dr. Klemm as we sat in +his luxurious office. + +"A Dr. Maudsley of the city." + +Kennedy glanced quickly at me in time to check an exclamation. + +"I wonder if I could see her?" + +"Why, of course--if she is willing," replied Dr. Klemm. + +"I will have to have some excuse," ruminated Kennedy. "Tell her I +am a specialist in nervous troubles from the city, have been +visiting one of the other patients, anything." + +Dr. Klemm pulled down a switch on a large oblong oak box on his +desk, asked for Miss Haversham, and waited a moment. + +"What is that?" I asked. + +"A vocaphone," replied Kennedy. "This sanitarium is quite up to +date, Klemm." + +The doctor nodded and smiled. "Yes, Kennedy," he replied. +"Communicating with every suite of rooms we have the vocaphone. I +find it very convenient to have these microphones, as I suppose +you would call them, catching your words without talking into them +directly as you have to do in the telephone and then at the other +end emitting the words without the use of an earpiece, from the +box itself, as if from a megaphone horn. Miss Haversham, this is +Dr. Klemm. There is a Dr. Kennedy here visiting another patient, a +specialist from New York. He'd like very much to see you if you +can spare a few minutes." + +"Tell him to come up." The voice seemed to come from the vocaphone +as though she were in the room with us. + +Veronica Haversham was indeed wonderful, one of the leading +figures in the night life of New York, a statuesque brunette of +striking beauty, though I had heard of often ungovernable temper. +Yet there was something strange about her face here. It seemed +perhaps a little yellow, and I am sure that her nose had a +peculiar look as if she were suffering from an incipient rhinitis. +The pupils of her eyes were as fine as pin heads, her eyebrows +were slightly elevated. Indeed, I felt that she had made no +mistake in taking a rest if she would preserve the beauty which +had made her popularity so meteoric. + +"Miss Haversham," began Kennedy, "they tell me that you are +suffering from nervousness. Perhaps I can help you. At any rate it +will do no harm to try. I know Dr. Maudsley well, and if he +doesn't approve--well, you may throw the treatment into the waste +basket." + +"I'm sure I have no reason to refuse," she said. "What would you +suggest?" + +"Well, first of all, there is a very simple test I'd like to try. +You won't find that it bothers you in the least--and if I can't +help you, then no harm is done." + +Again I watched Kennedy as he tactfully went through the +preparations for another kind of psychanalysis, placing Miss +Haversham at her ease on a davenport in such a way that nothing +would distract her attention. As she reclined against the leather +pillows in the shadow it was not difficult to understand the lure +by which she held together the little coterie of her intimates. +One beautiful white arm, bare to the elbow, hung carelessly over +the edge of the davenport, displaying a plain gold bracelet. + +"Now," began Kennedy, on whom I knew the charms of Miss Haversham +produced a negative effect, although one would never have guessed +it from his manner, "as I read off from this list of words, I wish +that you would repeat the first thing, anything," he emphasized, +"that comes into your head, no matter how trivial it may seem. +Don't force yourself to think. Let your ideas flow naturally. It +depends altogether on your paying attention to the words and +answering as quickly as you can--remember, the first word that +comes into your mind. It is easy to do. We'll call it a game," he +reassured. + +Kennedy handed a copy of the list to me to record the answers. +There must have been some fifty words, apparently senseless, +chosen at random, it seemed. They were: + + + head to dance salt white lie + + green sick new child to fear + + water pride to pray sad stork + + to sing ink money to marry false + + death angry foolish dear anxiety + + long needle despise to quarrel to kiss + + ship voyage finger old bride + + to pay to sin expensive family pure + + window bread to fall friend ridicule + + cold rich unjust luck to sleep + + +"The Jung association word test is part of the Freud +psychanalysis, also," he whispered to me, "You remember we tried +something based on the same idea once before?" + +I nodded. I had heard of the thing in connection with blood- +pressure tests, but not this way. + +Kennedy called out the first word, "Head," while in his hand he +held a stop watch which registered to one-fifth of a second. + +Quickly she replied, "Ache," with an involuntary movement of her +hand toward her beautiful forehead. + +"Good," exclaimed Kennedy. "You seem to grasp the idea better than +most of my patients." + +I had recorded the answer, he the time, and we found out, I recall +afterward, that the time averaged something like two and two- +fifths seconds. + +I thought her reply to the second word, "green," was curious. It +came quickly, "Envy." + +However, I shall not attempt to give all the replies, but merely +some of the most significant. There did not seem to be any +hesitation about most of the words, but whenever Kennedy tried to +question her about a word that seemed to him interesting she made +either evasive or hesitating answers, until it became evident that +in the back of her head was some idea which she was repressing and +concealing from us, something that she set off with a mental "No +Thoroughfare." + +He had finished going through the list, and Kennedy was now +studying over the answers and comparing the time records. + +"Now," he said at length, running his eye over the words again, "I +want to repeat the performance. Try to remember and duplicate your +first replies," he said. + +Again we went through what at first had seemed to me to be a +solemn farce, but which I began to see was quite important. +Sometimes she would repeat the answer exactly as before. At other +times a new word would occur to her. Kennedy was keen to note all +the differences in the two lists. + +One which I recall because the incident made an impression on me +had to do with the trio, "Death--life--inevitable." "Why that?" he +asked casually. + +"Haven't you ever heard the saying, 'One should let nothing which +one can have escape, even if a little wrong is done; no +opportunity should be missed; life is so short, death +inevitable'?" + +There were several others which to Kennedy seemed more important, +but long after we had finished I pondered this answer. Was that +her philosophy of life? Undoubtedly she would never have +remembered the phrase if it had not been so, at least in a +measure. + +She had begun to show signs of weariness, and Kennedy quickly +brought the conversation around to subjects of apparently a +general nature, but skillfully contrived so as to lead the way +along lines her answers had indicated. + +Kennedy had risen to go, still chatting. Almost unintentionally he +picked up from a dressing table a bottle of white tablets, without +a label, shaking it to emphasize an entirely, and I believe +purposely, irrelevant remark. + +"By the way," he said, breaking off naturally, "what is that?" + +"Only something Dr. Maudsley had prescribed for me," she answered +quickly. + +As he replaced the bottle and went on with the thread of the +conversation, I saw that in shaking the bottle he had abstracted a +couple of the tablets before she realized it. "I can't tell you +just what to do without thinking the case over," he concluded, +rising to go. "Yours is a peculiar case, Miss Haversham, baffling. +I'll have to study it over, perhaps ask Dr. Maudsley If I may see +you again. Meanwhile, I am sure what he is doing is the correct +thing." + +Inasmuch as she had said nothing about what Dr. Maudsley was +doing, I wondered whether there was not just a trace of suspicion +in her glance at him from under her long dark lashes. + +"I can't see that you have done anything," she remarked pointedly. +"But then doctors are queer--queer." + +That parting shot also had in it, for me, something to ponder +over. In fact I began to wonder if she might not be a great deal +more clever than even Kennedy gave her credit for being, whether +she might not have submitted to his tests for pure love of pulling +the wool over his eyes. + +Downstairs again, Kennedy paused only long enough to speak a few +words with his friend Dr. Klemm. + +"I suppose you have no idea what Dr. Maudsley has prescribed for +her?" he asked carelessly. + +"Nothing, as far as I know, except rest and simple food." + +He seemed to hesitate, then he said under his voice, "I suppose +you know that she is a regular dope fiend, seasons her cigarettes +with opium, and all that." + +"I guessed as much," remarked Kennedy, "but how does she get it +here?" + +"She doesn't." + +"I see," remarked Craig, apparently weighing now the man before +him. At length he seemed to decide to risk something. + +"Klemm," he said, "I wish you would do something for me. I see you +have the vocaphone here. Now if--say Hazleton--should call--will +you listen in on that vocaphone for me?" Dr. Klemm looked squarely +at him. + +"Kennedy," he said, "it's unprofessional, but---" + +"So it is to let her be doped up under guise of a cure." + +"What?" he asked, startled. "She's getting the stuff now?" + +"No, I didn't say she was getting opium, or from anyone here. All +the same, if you would just keep an ear open---" + +"It's unprofessional, but--you'd not ask it without a good reason. +I'll try." + +It was very late when we got back to the city and we dined at an +uptown restaurant which we had almost to ourselves. + +Kennedy had placed the little whitish tablets in a small paper +packet for safe keeping. As we waited for our order he drew one +from his pocket, and after looking at it a moment crushed it to a +powder in the paper. + +"What is it?" I asked curiously. "Cocaine?" + +"No," he said, shaking his head doubtfully. + +He had tried to dissolve a little of the powder in some water from +the glass before him, but it would not dissolve. + +As he continued to look at it his eye fell on the cut-glass +vinegar cruet before us. It was full of the white vinegar. + +"Really acetic acid," he remarked, pouring out a little. + +The white powder dissolved. + +For several minutes he continued looking at the stuff. + +"That, I think," he remarked finally, "is heroin." + +"More 'happy dust'?" I replied with added interest now, thinking +of our previous case. "Is the habit so extensive?" + +"Yes," he replied, "the habit is comparatively new, although in +Paris, I believe, they call the drug fiends, 'heroinomaniacs.' It +is, as I told you before, a derivative of morphine. Its scientific +name is diacetyl-morphin. It is New York's newest peril, one of +the most dangerous drugs yet. Thousands are slaves to it, although +its sale is supposedly restricted. It is rotting the heart out of +the Tenderloin. Did you notice Veronica Haversham's yellowish +whiteness, her down-drawn mouth, elevated eyebrows, and contracted +eyes? She may have taken it up to escape other drugs. Some people +have--and have just got a new habit. It can be taken +hypodermically, or in a tablet, or by powdering the tablet to a +white crystalline powder and snuffing up the nose. That's the way +she takes it. It produces rhinitis of the nasal passages, which I +see you observed, but did not understand. It has a more profound +effect than morphine, and is ten times as powerful as codeine. And +one of the worst features is that so many people start with it, +thinking it is as harmless as it has been advertised. I wouldn't +be surprised if she used from seventy-five to a hundred one- +twelfth grain tablets a day. Some of them do, you know." + +"And Dr. Maudsley," I asked quickly, "do you think it is through +him or in spite of him?" + +"That's what I'd like to know. About those words," he continued, +"what did you make of the list and the answers?" + +I had made nothing and said so, rather quickly. + +"Those," he explained, "were words selected and arranged to strike +almost all the common complexes in analyzing and diagnosing. You'd +think any intelligent person could give a fluent answer to them, +perhaps a misleading answer. But try it yourself, Walter. You'll +find you can't. You may start all right, but not all the words +will be reacted to in the same time or with the same smoothness +and ease. Yet, like the expressions of a dream, they often seem +senseless. But they have a meaning as soon as they are +'psychanalyzed.' All the mistakes in answering the second time, +for example, have a reason, if we can only get at it. They are not +arbitrary answers, but betray the inmost subconscious thoughts, +those things marked, split off from consciousness and repressed +into the unconscious. Associations, like dreams, never lie. You +may try to conceal the emotions and unconscious actions, but you +can't." + +I listened, fascinated by Kennedy's explanation. + +"Anyone can see that that woman has something on her mind besides +the heroin habit. It may be that she is trying to shake the habit +off in order to do it; it may be that she seeks relief from her +thoughts by refuge in the habit; and it may be that some one has +purposely caused her to contract this new habit in the guise of +throwing off an old. The only way by which to find out is to study +the case." + +He paused. He had me keenly on edge, but I knew that he was not +yet in a position to answer his queries positively. + +"Now I found," he went on, "that the religious complexes were +extremely few; as I expected the erotic were many. If you will +look over the three lists you will find something queer about +every such word as, 'child, 'to marry,' 'bride,' 'to lie,' +'stork,' and so on. We're on the right track. That woman does know +something about that child." + +"My eye catches the words 'to sin,' 'to fall,' 'pure,' and +others," I remarked, glancing over the list. + +"Yes, there's something there, too. I got the hint for the drug +from her hesitation over 'needle' and 'white.' But the main +complex has to do with words relating to that child and to love. +In short, I think we are going to find it to be the reverse of the +rule of the French, that it will be a case of 'cherchez l'homme.'" + +Early the next day Kennedy, after a night of studying over the +case, journeyed up to the sanitarium again. We found Dr. Klemm +eager to meet us. + +"What is it?" asked Kennedy, equally eager. + +"I overheard some surprising things over the vocaphone," he +hastened. "Hazleton called. Why, there must have been some wild +orgies in that precious set of theirs, and, would you believe it, +many of them seem to have been at what Dr. Maudsley calls his +'stable studio,' a den he has fixed up artistically over his +garage on a side street." + +"Indeed?" + +"I couldn't get it all, but I did hear her repeating over and over +to Hazleton, 'Aren't you all mine? Aren't you all mine?' There +must be some vague jealousy lurking in the heart of that ardent +woman. I can't figure it out." + +"I'd like to see her again," remarked Kennedy. "Will you ask her +if I may?" + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI + +THE ENDS OF JUSTICE + + +A few minutes later we were in the sitting room of her suite. She +received us rather ungraciously, I thought. + +"Do you feel any better?" asked Kennedy. + +"No," she replied curtly. "Excuse me for a moment. I wish to see +that maid of mine. Clarisse!" + +She had hardly left the room when Kennedy was on his feet. The +bottle of white tablets, nearly empty, was still on the table. I +saw him take some very fine white powder and dust it quickly over +the bottle. It seemed to adhere, and from his pocket he quickly +drew a piece of what seemed to be specially prepared paper, laid +it over the bottle where the powder adhered, fitting it over the +curves. He withdrew it quickly, for outside we heard her light +step, returning. I am sure she either saw or suspected that +Kennedy had been touching the bottle of tablets, for there was a +look of startled fear on her face. + +"Then you do not feel like continuing the tests we abandoned last +night?" asked Kennedy, apparently not noticing her look. + +"No, I do not," she almost snapped. "You--you are detectives. Mrs. +Hazleton has sent you." + +"Indeed, Mrs. Hazleton has not sent us," insisted Kennedy, never +for an instant showing his surprise at her mention of the name. + +"You are. You can tell her, you can tell everybody. I'll tell-- +I'll tell myself. I won't wait. That child is mine--mine--not +hers. Now--go!" + +Veronica Haversham on the stage never towered in a fit of passion +as she did now in real life, as her ungovernable feelings broke +forth tempestuously on us. + +I was astounded, bewildered at the revelation, the possibilities +in those simple words, "The child is mine." For a moment I was +stunned. Then as the full meaning dawned on me I wondered in a +flood of consciousness whether it was true. Was it the product of +her drug-disordered brain? Had her desperate love for Hazleton +produced a hallucination? + +Kennedy, silent, saw that the case demanded quick action. I shall +never forget the breathless ride down from the sanitarium to the +Hazleton house on Riverside Drive. + +"Mrs. Hazleton," he cried, as we hurried in, "you will pardon me +for this unceremonious intrusion, but it is most important. May I +trouble you to place your fingers on this paper--so?" + +He held out to her a piece of the prepared paper. She looked at +him once, then saw from his face that he was not to be questioned. +Almost tremulously she did as he said, saying not a word. I +wondered whether she knew the story of Veronica, or whether so far +only hints of it had been brought to her. + +"Thank you," he said quickly. "Now, if I may see Morton?" + +It was the first time we had seen the baby about whom the rapidly +thickening events were crowding. He was a perfect specimen of +well-cared-for, scientific infant. + +Kennedy took the little chubby fingers playfully in his own. He +seemed at once to win the child's confidence, though he may have +violated scientific rules. One by one he pressed the little +fingers on the paper, until little Morton crowed with delight as +one little piggy after another "went to market." He had deserted +thousands of dollars' worth of toys just to play with the simple +piece of paper Kennedy had brought with him. As I looked at him, I +thought of what Kennedy had said at the start. Perhaps this +innocent child was not to be envied after all. I could hardly +restrain my excitement over the astounding situation which had +suddenly developed. + +"That will do," announced Kennedy finally, carelessly folding up +the paper and slipping it into his pocket. "You must excuse me +now." + +"You see," he explained on the way to the laboratory, "that powder +adheres to fresh finger prints, taking all the gradations. Then +the paper with its paraffine and glycerine coating takes off the +powder." + +In the laboratory he buried himself in work, with microscope +compasses, calipers, while I fumed impotently at the window. + +"Walter," he called suddenly, "get Dr. Maudsley on the telephone. +Tell him to come immediately to the laboratory." + +Meanwhile Kennedy was busy arranging what he had discovered in +logical order and putting on it the finishing touches. + +As Dr. Maudsley entered Kennedy greeted him and began by plunging +directly into the case in answer to his rather discourteous +inquiry as to why he had been so hastily summoned. + +"Dr. Maudsley," said Craig, "I have asked you to call alone +because, while I am on the verge of discovering the truth in an +important case affecting Morton Hazleton and his wife, I am +frankly perplexed as to how to go ahead." + +The doctor seemed to shake with excitement as Kennedy proceeded. + +"Dr. Maudsley," Craig added, dropping his voice, "is Morton III +the son of Millicent Hazleton or not? You were the physician in +attendance on her at the birth. Is he?" + +Maudsley had been watching Kennedy furtively at first, but as he +rapped out the words I thought the doctor's eyes would pop out of +his head. Perspiration in great beads collected on his face. + +"P--professor K--Kennedy," he muttered, frantically rubbing his +face and lower jaw as if to compose the agitation he could so ill +conceal, "let me explain." + +"Yes, yes--go on," urged Kennedy. + +"Mrs. Hazleton's baby was born--dead. I knew how much she and the +rest of the family had longed for an heir, how much it meant. And +I--substituted for the dead child a newborn baby from the +maternity hospital. It--it belonged to Veronica Haversham--then a +poor chorus girl. I did not intend that she should ever know it. I +intended that she should think her baby was dead. But in some way +she found out. Since then she has become a famous beauty, has +numbered among her friends even Hazleton himself. For nearly two +years I have tried to keep her from divulging the secret. From +time to time hints of it have leaked out. I knew that if Hazleton +with his infatuation of her were to learn---" "And Mrs. Hazleton, +has she been told?" interrupted Kennedy. + +"I have been trying to keep it from her as long as I can, but it +has been difficult to keep Veronica from telling it. Hazleton +himself was so wild over her. And she wanted her son as she---" + +"Maudsley," snapped out Kennedy, slapping down on the table the +mass of prints and charts which he had hurriedly collected and was +studying, "you lie! Morton is Millicent Hazleton's son. The whole +story is blackmail. I knew it when she told me of her dreams and I +suspected first some such devilish scheme as yours. Now I know it +scientifically." + +He turned over the prints. + +"I suppose that study of these prints, Maudsley, will convey +nothing to you. I know that it is usually stated that there are no +two sets of finger prints in the world that are identical or that +can be confused. Still, there are certain similarities of finger +prints and other characteristics, and these similarities have +recently been exhaustively studied by Bertilion, who has found +that there are clear relationships sometimes between mother and +child in these respects. If Solomon were alive, doctor, he would +not now have to resort to the expedient to which he did when the +two women disputed over the right to the living child. Modern +science is now deciding by exact laboratory methods the same +problem as he solved by his unique knowledge of feminine +psychology. + +"I saw how this case was tending. Not a moment too soon, I said to +myself, 'The hand of the child will tell.' By the very variations +in unlike things, such as finger and palm prints, as tabulated and +arranged by Bertillon after study in thousands of cases, by the +very loops, whorls, arches and composites, I have proved my case. + +"The dominancy, not the identity, of heredity through the infinite +varieties of finger markings is sometimes very striking. Unique +patterns in a parent have been repeated with marvelous accuracy in +the child. I knew that negative results might prove nothing in +regard to parentage, a caution which it is important to observe. +But I was prepared to meet even that. + +"I would have gone on into other studies, such as Tammasia's, of +heredity in the veining of the back of the hands; I would have +measured the hands, compared the relative proportion of the parts; +I would have studied them under the X-ray as they are being +studied to-day; I would have tried the Reichert blood crystal test +which is being perfected now so that it will tell heredity itself. +There is no scientific stone I would have left unturned until I +had delved at the truth of this riddle. Fortunately it was not +necessary. Simple finger prints have told me enough. And best of +all, it has been in time to frustrate that devilish scheme you and +Veronica Haversham have been slowly unfolding." + +Maudsley crumpled up, as it were, at Kennedy's denunciation. He +seemed to shrink toward the door. + +"Yes," cried Kennedy, with extended forefinger, "you may go--for +the present. Don't try to run away. You're watched from this +moment on." + +Maudsley had retreated precipitately. + +I looked at Kennedy inquiringly. What to do? It was indeed a +delicate situation, requiring the utmost care to handle. If the +story had been told to Hazleton, what might he not have already +done? He must be found first of all if we were to meet the +conspiracy of these two. + +Kennedy reached quickly for the telephone. "There is one stream of +scandal that can be dammed at its source," he remarked, calling a +number. "Hello. Klemm's Sanitarium? I'd like to speak with Miss +Haversham. What--gone? Disappeared? Escaped?" + +He hung up the receiver and looked at me blankly. I was +speechless. + +A thousand ideas flew through our minds at once. Had she perceived +the import of our last visit and was she now on her way to +complete her plotted slander of Millicent Hazleton, though it +pulled down on herself in the end the whole structure? + +Hastily Kennedy called Hazleton's home, Butler, and one after +another of Hazleton's favorite clubs. It was not until noon that +Butler himself found him and came with him, under protest, to the +laboratory. + +"What is it--what have you found?" cried Butler, his lean form a- +quiver with suppressed excitement. + +Briefly, one fact after another, sparing Hazleton nothing, Kennedy +poured forth the story, how by hint and innuendo Maudsley had been +working on Millicent, undermining her, little knowing that he had +attacked in her a very tower of strength, how Veronica, infatuated +by him, had infatuated him, had led him on step by step. + +Pale and agitated, with nerves unstrung by the life he had been +leading, Hazleton listened. And as Kennedy hammered one fact after +another home, he clenched his fists until the nails dug into his +very palms. + +"The scoundrels," he ground out, as Kennedy finished by painting +the picture of the brave little broken-hearted woman fighting off +she knew not what, and the golden-haired, innocent baby stretching +out his arms in glee at the very chance to prove that he was what +he was. "The scoundrels--take me to Maudsley now. I must see +Maudsley. Quick!" + +As we pulled up before the door of the reconstructed stable- +studio, Kennedy jumped out. The door was unlocked. Up the broad +flight of stairs, Hazleton went two at a time. We followed him +closely. + +Lying on the divan in the room that had been the scene of so many +orgies, locked in each other's arms, were two figures--Veronica +Haversham and Dr. Maudsley. + +She must have gone there directly after our visit to Dr. Klemm's, +must have been waiting for him when he returned with his story of +the exposure to answer her fears of us as Mrs. Hazleton's +detectives. In a frenzy of intoxication she must have flung her +arms blindly about him in a last wild embrace. + +Hazleton looked, aghast. + +He leaned over and took her arm. Before he could frame the name, +"Veronica!" he had recoiled. + +The two were cold and rigid. + +"An overdose of heroin this time," muttered Kennedy. + +My head was in a whirl. + +Hazleton stared blankly at the two figures abjectly lying before +him, as the truth burned itself indelibly into his soul. He +covered his face with his hands. And still he saw it all. + +Craig said nothing. He was content to let what he had shown work +in the man's mind. + +"For the sake of--that baby--would she--would she forgive?" asked +Hazleton, turning desperately toward Kennedy. + +Deliberately Kennedy faced him, not as scientist and millionaire, +but as man and man. + +"From my psychanalysis," he said slowly, "I should say that it IS +within your power, in time, to change those dreams." + +Hazleton grasped Kennedy's hand before he knew it. + +"Kennedy--home--quick. This is the first manful impulse I have had +for two years. And, Jameson--you'll tone down that part of it in +the newspapers that Junior--might read--when he grows up?" + + +THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The War Terror, by Arthur B. 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