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diff --git a/old/8midn10.txt b/old/8midn10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e827df9 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/8midn10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10744 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Midnight Passenger, by Richard Henry Savage + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. 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 Midnight Passenger + +Author: Richard Henry Savage + +Release Date: July, 2004 [EBook #6008] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on October 16, 2002] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO Latin-1 + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE MIDNIGHT PASSENGER *** + + + + +Charles Aldarondo, Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading +Team. + + + +THE MIDNIGHT PASSENGER + +A NOVEL + +By RICHARD HENRY SAVAGE + + + + + + +THE MIDNIGHT PASSENGER + +BOOK I + +UNDER THE ARCH + +I. The Danube Picture + +II. Tidings of Great Joy + +III. In Magdal's Pharmacy + +IV. Under the Shadows of the Brooklyn Bridge + +V. Breakers Ahead! Checkmate! Mr. Arthur Ferris Works in the Dark + +BOOK II + +AN INSIDE RING + +VI. Dreaming by the Sea + +VII. "This May Be My Last Bank Deposit" + +VIII. The Strange Tug's Voyage + +IX. The Lightning Stroke of Fate + +X. A Cruel Legacy + +BOOK III + +THE MESSAGE FROM AMOY + +XI. The Girl Bride's Rebellion + +XII. The Lonely Pursuer + +XIII. On the Yacht "Rambler" + +XIV. Irma Gluyas + +XV. Miss Worthington Shares Her Secret + + + + + + +BOOK I. + +UNDER THE ARCH. + + + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +THE DANUBE PICTURE. + + + + + +There was no air of uncertainty upon the handsome countenance of +Mr. Randall Clayton as he stepped out of the elevator of a sedate +Fourteenth Street business building and approvingly sniffed the +April morning breeze. + +On this particular Saturday of ninety-seven, the shopping multitude +was already pouring from the Scylla of Simpson, Crawford & Simpson's +on Sixth Avenue--and its Charybdis of the Big Store--past the +jungles of Altman's, Ehrich's and O'Neill's--to dash feebly upon +the buttressed corner of Macy's, and then die away in refluent, +diverted waves, lost in the fastnesses of McCreery's and Wanamaker's, +far down Broadway. + +The pulses of the young man were vaguely thrilled with the coming +of spring, and so he complacently took in the never-ceasing tide +of eager women, on the street's shady side, with one comprehensive +and kindly glance. + +For six long years he had cautiously studied that same sea of +always anxious faces! He well knew all the types from the disdainful +woman of fashion, the crafty daughter of sin, the vacuous country +visitor, down to the argus-eyed mere de famille, sternly resolute +in her set purpose of making three dollars take the place of five, +by some heaven-sent bargain. + +Countless times he had threaded this restless multitude, with an +alert devotion to the interests of the Western Trading Company. He +was, to the ordinary lounger, but the type of the average well-groomed +New York business man. + +And yet, his watchful eyes swept keenly to right and left, as he +breasted the singularly inharmonious waves of the weaker sex. + +His left hand firmly gripped a Russian leather portmanteau of +substantial construction, while his right lay loosely in the pocket +of his modish spring overcoat. + +To one having the gift of Asmodeus, that well-gloved right hand +would have been revealed as resting upon the handle of a heavy +revolver, and the contents of the tourist-looking portmanteau been +known as some thirty-eight thousand dollars in well-thumbed currency +and greasy checks of polyglot signatures. + +It was the "short day" of the week's business, and the usual route +for making his bank deposit lay before him. Down University Place +to Eighth Street he was bent, thus avoiding the Broadway crush, +and over to the shaded counting rooms of the Astor Place Bank. + +Clayton's mind was concentrated, as usual, upon his important +business. Few of the neighbors in the great office building knew of +the vast interests represented by the modest sign "Western Trading +Company." + +Certain gray-bearded bookkeepers, a couple of brisk correspondents, +a stony-faced woman stenographer, with a couple of ferret-eyed +office boys were the office force, besides the travelling manager +and Mr. Randall Clayton, the cashier and personal representative of +the absent "head," who rarely left his Detroit home to interfere +with the well-oiled movements of the "New York end." + +But daily, rain or shine, Mr. Randall Clayton himself took his +way to the bank to deposit the funds to meet their never-ceasing +outflow of Western exchange. There was an air of grave prosperity +in the sober offices of the great cattle company which impressed +even the casual wanderer. + +Silence and decorum marked all the transactions of the weekly +messengers, paying in the heavy accounts of the hundreds of New York +butchers who drew their daily supplies from these great occidental +cattle handlers. The various departments of the great business were +always kept as sealed books to each other, and only Emil Einstein, +Clayton's own office boy, knew how much treasure was daily packed +away into that innocent looking portmanteau. + +Mr. Somers, the head accountant, with a grave bow, always verified +the sealed delivery slip of the funds, and compared it with the +returned bank books, carefully filing away all these in his own +private safe with Clayton's returned list of Western and Southern +exchange. + +On the sunny April morning, Randall Clayton was weary of the confining +life of the silence haunted office rooms, where he patiently bore +the strain of his grave duties, with a cautious avoidance of useless +communication, fencing him even from his fellow employees. + +As he strode along the crowded street, his jaded soul yearned for +the wild majesty of the far off Montana mountains, and the untrammeled +life of the Western frontier, given up perforce, when his father's +death had left him, twelve years before, alone in the world. + +"The same old daily grind," he murmured. "Oh! For one good long +gallop on the lonely prairies--a day in the forest with the antlered +elk, an afternoon among the gray boulders of the McCloud River." + +He sighed as he recalled his drudging rise in business, since his +father's old partner had set his life work out before him, when +the lonely boy had finished with honor his course at Ann Arbor. + +Four years at college, two with "the chief," under his own watchful +eye, and then that six years of a dragging upward pull in the New +York office had made a man of him; but, only a self-contained and +prematurely jaded man. + +"It's too much to lose," he muttered, as he thought of his hardly +earned promotion, his four thousand a year, and--the future +prospects. He was the envy of his limited coterie, even though his +few intimates looked with a certain awe upon a man who was obliged +to file a bond of fifty thousand dollars for his vast pecuniary +handlings. + +For the great association of Western cattle men were hard taskmasters +and only the head lawyers in Detroit knew that Hugh Worthington +had annually sent in his own personal check to the Fidelity Company +to pay the dues of the bond of the son of a man to whom he had owed +his own first rise. + +"It's too hard," mused his patron, "to spy on the lad and then +make him pay for it. But it has to be," he sighed. "There are the +snares and pitfalls." + +Many an eye approvingly followed the stalwart young man still in +the flush of his unsapped vigor, at twenty-eight, as the tall form +swept on through the crowds of polyglot women. + +There was a healthy tan on Clayton's face, his brown hair crisply +curled upon a well-set head, his keen blue eye and soldierly mustache +finely setting off a frank and engaging countenance. + +The grave sense of gratitude, his place of trust, the stern admonitions +of his sententious patron, Worthington, and the counsel of his +only chum--a hard-headed young New York lawyer--had kept him so +far from the prehensile clutches of the Jezebel-infested Tenderloin. + +Clay ton had fallen judiciously into the haven of a well-chosen +apartment, sharing his intimacy only with Arthur Ferris, the +brisk-eyed advocate whose curt office missive always enforced the +lagging collections of the New York branch. + +Simultaneously with his last promotion, however, there came to +Clayton the knowledge that he was continuously and systematically +watched by the unseen agents of the Fidelity Company. + +And, yet strong in his own determination, he bore as a galling +chain, growing heavier with the months, the knowledge that the eye +of the secret agent would surely follow him, in all the "pleasures" +incident to his time of life and rising financial station. + +The sword hung over his defenceless head!--too busy for the gad-fly +life of the clubs--a strong, lonely swimmer in the tide of New York +life, he was as yet a comparative stranger to Folly and her motley +crew of merry wantons in gay Gotham. + +The theater, some good music, his athletics, and the hastily +snatched pleasures of vacation, together with the limp reading of +an overwearied man, afforded him such desultory pleasures as fell +in his path. + +On his way now to a luncheon engagement with his comrade Ferris, +at Taylor's, his mind was busied only with the care of the daily +treasure trust. + +Serenely confident, he swung along, his two score thousand +of dollars being a mere ordinary deposit, in a business which, in +holiday seasons, and at times of monthly settlements, often stuffed +the portmanteau with sums rising the hundred thousand. + +His callous eye vainly rested on the peopled loneliness of the +bustling crowd, intent only upon the possibility of a sudden dash +of some sneak thief, or the chance malignity of some swell "mobsman." + +Suddenly Randall Clayton paused in his swinging stride. For a +face, rapt in its intense earnestness, broke in upon his gnawing +loneliness. A lovely vision, a very Rose of Life's Garden! + +"By Jove!" he murmured, as with a new-born craft he lingered for +a moment before a window with an "art" display, only to watch the +receding form of the unknown beauty, whose single glance had left +him standing there spellbound. + +There was an exquisite artist proof of a romantic scene upon the +Danube displayed in the place of honor, a view of one of the grandly +witching defiles where the mighty stream immortalized by Strauss +breaks out of the smiling Austrian plains, dashing along into the +Iron Gates of gallant Hungary. + +He could not, as yet, tell what manner of woman she might be, but +his spirit burned within him as he felt the lingering spell of +those dark, witching eyes, for they had rested upon his own, in an +instant, unguarded glance of sympathy. + +Mechanically following on, Clayton noted the refinement of the +daintily cut dark dress, veiling a form of ravishing symmetry. +There was a single red rose in the Polish toque, and that one touch +of color guided him as he followed the gracefully gliding unknown +beauty. + +Strangely stirred at heart, he marked the distinction of the lady's +bearing, her well-gloved hand, clasping a music roll--and even +the natty bottines had not escaped him. He saw all this before he +was aware that he had passed on beyond University Place, with no +other purpose than to gaze into those sweetly earnest eyes again. +"Twenty-three--no, twenty-five," his keen perception told him, by +right of the supple and imperially moulded form of womanly ripeness. +And he wondered vaguely what daughter of the gods this might be--what +heiress of the graces of the laughter-loving goddesses of old! + +He quickened his pace in the narrow space between University Place +and Broadway, fearful that he would lose that dark-eyed vision in +the human breakers at the Broadway curve. But his grasp mechanically +tightened upon his treasure, his right hand clutched the pistol +butt more firmly, as his cheek reddened with an involuntary blush. + +He had seen just such faces on the Prater in sparkling Vienna, and +in the antique streets of Buda-Pesth on the one summer European +run, snatched from the Moloch worship of the Almighty Dollar! + +Such eyes, now soft and dreamy, then lit up with a merry challenge, +had rested on the handsome young American tourist in the vaulted +halls of the Wiener Café, where the Waltz King's witching melodies +ruled the happy hour. + +And supple forms like this he had often seen flitting among the +copses of the Margarethe Insel, when the yellow sunset rays shone +golden on the gleaming Danube, and the purple shadows began to steal +over the old fortress high uplifted there above Hungary's capital. +Here was a truant beauty escaped from a land of dreams. + +Clayton had followed the unknown over Broadway's dangerously choked +throat, before the music roll gave him his clue. He was now in the +musical center of New York, and in proximity to the modest foreign +theaters where a conscientious art flourishes, as yet unknown to +the garish play-houses of upper Broadway. + +Some visiting singer, some transplanted "Künstlerinn," he conjectured +as, never ceasing that queenly stride, the unknown crossed Fourth +Avenue toward the vicinity of Steinway's and the Irving Place +Theater. + +As yet he had not seen that bewitching face again, for he was a +laggard in pursuit, his coward conscience smiting him for his first +errant detour. + +It seemed as if the money in that portmanteau rustled a portentous +warning, but "a spirit in his feet" led him to execute a quick +left-flank movement as he sped first across the triangle, passing +under the shadow of the Washington statue (pride of the job brass +founder), and, with a stolen side glance, he surveyed the lady +once more, as she leisurely mounted the steps of the "Restaurant +Bavaria." + +His eyes dropped in a strange confusion as he once more met the +sweetly serious glance of those wonderful eyes, now resting upon +him with a gleam of vaguely timid inquiry. The delicately moulded +arm and slender hand were revealed, as with a graceful sweep the +lady lifted her rustling drapery and disappeared within the doors +of the one foreign café lingering reluctant on Union Square. + +With a sigh, Randall Clayton turned back toward the south, for a +hasty glance at a clock face told him that there was left him but +fifteen minutes wherein to reach the Bank, before the brazen bells +would clang high noon. His heart was beating strangely as he retraced +his steps, for the ichor of young blood was boiling in his veins +at last. + +He was lost in a clouding day dream, as he recrossed Fourth Avenue +and only dimly saw the foxy face of his office boy flash out of +the jostling crowd on the corner before he darted over. + +As he resolutely stemmed the tide pouring eastward, he had turned +down Broadway before he realized that there had been a half smile +of recognition on those rich red Hungarian lips, a wordless message +in the dark splendors of the gleaming eyes. + +Could it be? They had lingered but a few moments together gazing +on the pictured glories of the distant Danube. Clayton felt that +some new influence had suddenly loosened all the pent-up longings +of his ardent nature. He was above all the vulgar pretenses of +the "boulevardier." He now realized in a single moment the hollow +loneliness of a life made up only of so many monthly pay days and +so many dull returns of the four unheeded seasons. For his life had +only been a heavy pathway of toil up an inclined plane of manifold +resistances. + +He recalled, how on his one European voyage, the distant gleam +of a single silver sail far out on the blue rim of the pathless +ocean had suddenly broken in upon the eternal loneliness of that +watery waste. + +And now, in all the peopled loneliness of all New York--hitherto +a human desert for him--the glance of these same alien eyes had +suddenly awakened him to yearnings for another life. + +He was half way down the bustling Broadway to the bank before he +dared ask himself if the bright, shy glances of these unforgotten +eyes were meant for him. + +"Perhaps," he muttered, and then his whole nature stifled the +unworthy suggestion. No! On that fair face only truth and honor +were mirrored. He was left alone absently checking up his deposit +list before he recalled all the proud and womanly bearing of the +beautiful unknown. + +There was in her every motion the distinction of an isolation from +the contact of the meaner world! How hungrily he had watched her +onward path he only knew now. + +And, with a secret pride, he recalled how daintily, like the swift +Camilla, she had sped onward through all those human billows heaving +to and fro, "the world forgetting, by the world forgot." + +He pocketed all his deposit slips, then glanced mechanically at +the bank-book's entries, and wearily parried the badinage of the +bright-faced young bank-teller. + +Clayton slowly wandered over toward Taylor's, and he was still lost +in his day-dream when he joined his chum, Arthur Ferris, finding +the modest feast already on the table. + +"By Jove, old man! You're 'way behind time," began the nervous +lawyer. "I've got to hustle. I leave for Detroit on the evening +train." + +"What's up, Arthur?" demanded the laggard. + +"I've just had a wire from Worthington," seriously replied his +room-mate. "He is going to take a trip around the world, via San +Francisco. It seems that Miss Alice's health is precarious. And, +the 'Chief' is going to put me in special charge of all his personal +interests during this stay of six or nine months. I am to go out +for my instructions, travel on to the Pacific Coast with them, and +then, returning, inspect all the cattle ranches on my way back to +Detroit." + +"I'm right glad to hear it, Arthur," said Clayton, warmly grasping +his friend's hand. "I know Hugh Worthington's mental processes well! +He wants some one to watch over all his home business machinery +while he makes the grand tour. And he has selected one not in the +local ring. It means a substantial promotion for you." + +"I fondly hope so," replied Ferris. "He must have some such ideas, +for I'm to turn over all my New York matters here to the senior +in our firm, and I'm also to have a special power of attorney from +the Chief. The annual election comes off before his return." + +The two young men had finished their luncheon before Clayton thought +of the loneliness which his chum's absence would entail upon him. +There were many matters of detail to talk over, and Clayton hastened +his return to the office to deposit his bank-book in order to be +free to give the afternoon to his departing friend. + +"I've only my office desk to clear up; it's a short horse and soon +curried," laughed Ferris. "I'll run over to my place and then meet +you at our rooms, so you can see the last of me. We can talk things +over while I pack up." + +Ferris was busied with the cashier as young Einstein darted into +Taylor's. The lad's face brightened as he saw Clayton. + +"I brought you down this telegram marked 'Rush,'" he said, all out +of breath. "I feared that you might go away for the afternoon." He +was off like a shot, before Clayton tore open the yellow envelope. + +It was a private despatch from Hugh Worthington announcing his own +impending departure, and then directing all his mail to be forwarded +to the Palace Hotel, San Francisco. + +The last words were: "Kindly send me a private letter by Ferris, and +give me any personal suggestions for handling the firm's business +in my absence. Will write you fully on private affairs from San +Francisco." + +When Clayton parted with Ferris at the door of Taylor's, the two +young men wended their separate ways, each busied with the vision +of a fair woman. + +Arthur Ferris, the dark "Pride of Columbia," as his college-mates +fondly called him, now dreamed of nothing but Alice Worthington's +golden hair and sapphire blue eyes, as the cable-car bore him swiftly +downward to the office of Hatch & Ferris, at 105 Broad Street. + +Seven years older than Clayton, the already successful lawyer +recalled on his way the first confidences of the great capitalist, +when Clayton was sent into Manhattan Island business whirlpool. + +The silver-haired Detroit widower had forgotten that even New York +City lawyers have hearts, when he had frankly admitted to Ferris +the reasons for detaching Randall Clayton from his own household. + +"You see, Ferris," reminiscently said the money magnate, "I owed +my own rise to Clayton's ambitious father. When he retired from +the old firm of Clayton & Worthington, Everett Clayton had a cool +million. It was 'big money' in the days of seventy. But, plunging +into a new railway with an end left hanging out on the wild prairies, +the panic of '72 soon carried Clayton down. + +"When he died, out West, I helped the orphan lad along. There was +no trouble until Randall became an inmate of my household, after +his graduation. + +"I woke up, however, one day to find that my little Alice had leaped +into womanhood at a bound. And so I have decided to push Clayton's +fortunes from a safe distance. For, the social freedom of the +college lad and the schoolgirl in short frocks cannot be allowed +to the man of twenty-four and the blossoming girl of sixteen." + +Hugh Worthington, giving over his protégé to the watchful care of +Arthur Ferris, old beyond his years, never realized the boundless +ambitions of the aspiring New York lawyer. + +Ferris, with an eye ambitiously fixed upon the Senate of the United +States, had quickly become a living spirit of boundless energy in +the Western Trading Company's service, and Miss Alice Worthington, +on her New York visits, a girlish tyro, saw only the man, and not +the lawyer, in her accomplished metropolitan cavalier. + +And so the coming young advocate's heart bounded with delight at +the six-weeks' future companionship of the woman whose unguarded +heart had silently drifted toward him "along the line of least +resistance." + +Arthur Ferris burned now to make his calling and election sure, before +this "round the world" trip should present an endless succession +of fortune hunters to the gaze of the Detroit heiress. + +Clayton, hastening back toward the office, was only intent upon +the answer to his chief's despatch and he never noticed, across +the street, the progress of Emil Einstein, threading the crowds +swiftly, and yet furtively watching his master's progress. He +reached Fourteenth Street two blocks in advance of his unsuspecting +employer, and then paused for a moment in the shaded corridor of +a photographer's atelier. + +With a whispered word, the young spy slipped, eel-like, into the +crowd and had regained his desk long before Randall Clayton reentered +the office. The lad's face glowed with a secret triumph. + +Clayton's countenance was flushed by some strong emotion as he +absently entered the private office of the head accountant. The +sharp clang of his bell brought the office boy at once to his side, +when, ten minutes later, the young cashier handed to Einstein a +telegram. + +The doors of the various rooms were now clanging with the snap of +the locks as the boy respectfully said, "Anything else for this +afternoon, sir?" Clayton carelessly nodded for the lad's dismissal +and then bowed his tired head upon his hands, as the nimble youth +eagerly sped away to the telegraph office and his half holiday. + +The office staff were all filing out, wearied with the week's work, +and Robert Wade, Esq., the chief manager, stared in surprise as +Clayton passed him without a word, in answer to his stately greeting. +He watched the young man, who slowly descended by the stairway, +forgetting the ready elevator service. "What's up with Clayton?" +murmured the pompous official. "He forgot his manners!" + +All unconscious of his strange actions, Randall Clayton slowly sought +the street level, waiting until his colaborers had all departed. +He then moved along again toward the window where the Danube view +still charmed the passerby. + +Then, turning abruptly, he hurried away to a Broadway car, seeking +the solitude of the cosy apartment in the still respectable +"Thirties," which he had so long shared with Ferris. + +He dared not, as yet, ask himself why Fate had shown him, a second +time, at that very window, the graceful figure of the beautiful +unknown. + +But, there, with the slender music roll still clasped in her +delicate hand, she stood, lingering a beautiful Peri in his path, +on his return from the meeting with Ferris. + +And he was not deceived this time. For the blush of semi-recognition, +the womanly embarrassment as their eyes met in a sudden surprise, +told him that she also had lingered for a moment at their involuntary +trysting place. + +It was in vain that he sought for any cogent reason for the +reappearance of the unknown dark-eyed beauty. + +There was no veiled suggestion in her wistful eyes, no lure of the +fisher of men in the restrained mien of the lovely unknown. He +paced his room for half an hour, until the arrival of Ferris brought +about an active discussion of all their personal and business affairs +which lasted until the coupé arrived to bear them to the station. + +In the long examination of their mutual interests, Clayton had strangely +forgotten to even mention the name of Miss Alice Worthington, for +he was still keenly aware of the gradual fading away of the ties +of friendly family intimacy which had once bound him to the Detroit +household. + +Moreover, loyal to his chum as he was, he could not forget how +often, in the past two years, he had seen letters lying on Ferris' +table, bearing the superscription of the woman who had been graduated +by Fate from that dangerous rank of "Little Sister." + +Before Ferris finally turned over his keys, the cool lawyer laid +his hand gravely on Clayton's shoulder. + +"Randall, my boy!" he said. "It's only fair to you to tell you that +the Fidelity Company makes private reports to Hugh Worthington upon +the inner life of all the bonded employees. Some of these documents +have always been forwarded through me. Evidently there have been +some new directions given on this matter. + +"Worthington is a man who forgets nothing. You will be left alone. +You know your dangerous trust. Be always on your guard! + +"For, even though born in its whirl, there are dangers in New York +which are sealed books to me, even now; and, you are a stranger +here, after all. + +"Take care of yourself! Be watchful! There will be many jealous +eyes spying upon your every movement, and strange eyes at that." + +They entered the carriage in a constrained silence, in the early +nightfall, and were soon whirled away toward the Forty-second Street +Depot. Some overhanging shadow seemed to dampen the ardor of that +friendly farewell, when the gliding train bore the lawyer away from +his friend's sight. + +At that very instant the office boy, Einstein, darted out of the +great depot's main entrance and mingled with the passers by. "Now +for Fritz Braun," he chuckled. "She has caught on at last! He +followed her to the 'Bavaria.' The lawyer is gone for good! The +field is clear. There's a twenty now in sight, and many a twenty +to follow." + + + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +TIDINGS OF GREAT JOY. + + + + + +While Randall Clayton was lingering moodily over a lonely dinner +at the Grand Union, his office boy was dallying with a cigarette +on the front platform of a Fourth Avenue car. + +Emil Einstein had safely sized up the friendly adieu of the two +room-mates, and was now hastening down to report his successful +infamy. + +"Too late for Sixth Avenue!" the hard-faced boy muttered. "Catch +him at 'the Bavaria,' sure." + +The round, gloating eyes of the young New York-nurtured Jew were +ablaze with a fierce thirst for pleasure. + +Round shouldered, strongly built, his Semitic countenance was all +aglow with a superabundant vitality, and the pleasure-loving mouth +alone belied the keen intelligence of the wide set Hebraic eyes. + +An elève of the gutters of New York's East-Side ghetto, dangerously +half educated at the free public schools, Einstein, now nearing +seventeen, joined the dashing villainy of the Bowery tough to the +crafty long-headed scheming of the low-grade Israelite. + +He had drank in all the precocious wiles of the Manhattan urchins +quickly after his sturdy Odalisque mother had dragged him, a +squalling urchin, out of the steerage confines of a cheap Hamburg +steamer. + +A reckless, resolute, conscienceless sinner was the handsome Leah +Einstein; already, when, on the voyage, she fell under the influence +of a man who found his ready tool in this greasy but symmetrical +Esther, clad in her Polish rags. + +When the decamping Viennese pharmacist had wearied of his low-life +Venus, their joint operations soon made the East Side too hot for +the man who boldly dared all, and who now yearned for a share of +the fleecing of the fatuous New Yorkers. + +The Austrian criminal fugitive, after some years of varied adventure, +had circled back to New York City at last, and rejoiced to find in +Leah's son, now a burly youth, a fit companion and second for his +own craftily laid villanies. It was a capital for him, the legacy +of her nurture and his own training. + +Mr. Fritz Braun's broad white brow was gathered in an impatient +frown as he strode out of Magdal's Pharmacy on Sixth Avenue and +paced with dignity past all the minor notables of the street. + +Hulking policemen, loquacious barber, marketman and newsdealer, +small shop-keeper, and the saloon magnates, all knew the stolid +reticent German who presided over the veiled mysteries of Magdal's. + +The whole region of Sixth Avenue, between Twenty-third and Thirtieth, +had its floating contingent of "sporting" men and women who well +knew the crafty wisdom lurking behind the blue spectacles which +veiled the pharmacist's piercing glances. Fritz Braun's "contingent" +were a brood of the Devil's own children. + +Fritz Braun was strangely three hours late upon this especial +evening, but his step was evenly sedate as he entered Zimmermann's +for his before dinner Kümmel. A prosperous figure was he in his +mouse-colored top-coat of fashionable cut, his immaculate silk hat, +with the red dogskin gloves, and the heavy ivory-headed cane. + +With his antique cameo scarf pin, his coat collar turned up around +his flowing golden beard, he was the very type of the sedate burgher +of Dresden or Leipzig. And yet many a dark secret lurked in that +busy brain of his. + +A dozen necks were craned after him, though, as he silently left +the saloon and caught the down-town car. + +For from Greely Square to Eighth Street, from the cork room of +Koster & Bial's to the purlieus of old Clinton Place, all the "off +color" men and women of New York's "fly" circles knew and feared +the steady eyes gleaming through the cerulean lenses. + +"He's a deep one, the Professor," grunted the Hanoverian barkeeper. +"Vat a lot 'e knows!" The Teuton rinsed his beer glasses with a +vicious twirl as he exclaimed: "Like as not, choost so like, he's +up to some new devilment! Niemand know vere 'e hangs out! He's a +wonder, he is, dat same Fritz!" + +But the pharmacist lost all his sedateness as he sprang out of the +crosstown car after his transfer at Fourteenth Street and Fourth +Avenue. + +He was the nimblest crosser of the busy corner, and then gazed +anxiously up and down the street, in front of the Restaurant Bavaria. + +Wasting but a moment he smartly entered the café and then, with an +air of proprietorship, entered a curtain-shaded alcove. + +The waiter silently placed the carte du jour before him, and merely +shook his head when Braun sharply demanded, "Any one here for me?" + +A luxurious dinner was ordered, and the silent man was busied scanning +the convives when Emil Einstein, cautiously entering without haste, +furtively regarded all the diners. + +They were the better class of artists--musical virtuosos, and +floating foreigners of the Teutonic business circles of lower New +York. + +Frank, pleasure-loving continental women mingled freely with these +materialistic Romeos, who preferred the comforting cuisine to the +fiery and seductive cocktails of "The Opera" on the corner. + +The artful Einstein was warily assuring himself that he was quite +unknown to the convives before making his report to his real master +and evil genius. For, young as he was, Emil Einstein well knew that +the tyrant master, who had been his mother's cruel lover, might +some day lure him on to the electric chair. + +A guilty pride thrilled the depraved boy's heart to feel that he, +alone, in all the crowded ward, knew what manner of human devil +lurked behind those innocent-looking blue spectacles. + +He had seen the ferocious grin which relaxed Fritz Braun's bearded +lips into a cruel grin, as the sly lad made a gesture which +indicated tidings of great joy. Einstein's dress and bearing was +fully worthy of his respectable business station. He might well be +taken for the precious "only son" of some well-to-do Jewish-American +merchant. + +Quick to learn, he had aped the mien of his American fellow +employees, and his "educational evenings" at the "Irving Place," +the "Thalia," and the "Germania" had given to his bearing what he +fondly deemed an "irresistible social swing." + +Greedy of pleasures, gluttonous and covetous, the young Ishmael +ardently looked forward to a comfortable ill-gotten revenue at the +hands of the man, who--through a skilful manipulation of the German +janitor of the Western Trading Company's office--had obtained the +place of office boy, "with substantial references," for the son of +his cast-off paramour. + +Leah Einstein had long forgotten the face of the reckless Polish +country noble who was the real father of this budding criminal, and +the lad himself but dimly discerned the drift of his Mephistophelian +patron's proposed villainy. + +Timid and cowardly at heart, the young waif would have shuddered +had he known of the callous-handed and desperate murders which had +shocked Vienna just before Hugo Landor, a talented and handsome +young chemist, disappeared forever in flight, lost under a cloud +of scandal caused by drink and a maddening devotion to a baby-faced +devil of the Ring Strasse Theater chorus, a woman at whose +feet the hungry-eyed aristocrats had knelt to sue, a man-eater, a +hard-hearted, velvet-eyed, reckless and defiant devil. + +At an almost imperceptible nod Einstein drew near to his patron, +taking the vacant place in the little alcove, à deux, with his +back prudently screening him from any chance visitor who might know +the Western Trading Company's personnel. Braun was eager for his +spy's report now. + +"All right, at last!" the youth huskily whispered. "I watched him +meet her, at the picture window, you know. I had posted her! And +then he slyly followed her over here and went three blocks out of +his way to pipe her off here! So, after his lunch at Taylor's, I +put her again onto his homeward way! And he's caught on! No matter! +She will tell you the rest herself!" + +When the eager lad had finished, Fritz Braun growled under his +breath, "You are sure you made no bungle?" + +"Dead sure," gaily answered the boy, draining his bock of Muenchner, +"I followed him to the bank and to Taylor's, and he is unsuspecting +of any plant, I know." + +Braun's face relaxed as he pushed over a twenty-dollar bill to the +young Judas. "Come in Monday, about ten," he said, carelessly. "You +can go, now! I must hurry over to the river. I am late!" + +There was a shifty light in Einstein's eyes as he mumbled, "I +can tell you something else, if you'll do the right thing." Braun +searched the young villain's face. "Go ahead! I'll pay you." + +Emboldened by his success, Einstein loudly rapped to replenish his +glass. He was now panting to escape for certain tender engagements +of his own. + +"The firm's lawyer, Ferris, the man who lived with Mr. Clayton, +has gone West for six months, so he will be left alone! I followed +them and saw Ferris off on the train. I took a telegram to the +office for Ferris and Clayton, so Clayton will be alone in the +rooms. He's going to keep them, and I'm to go around there Monday +and pack up all Mr. Ferris' little things." + +"Good, capital!" said Fritz Braun, his eyes gleaming. "You must +manage to get me a duplicate key of Clayton's rooms!" + +"Easy enough," proudly answered the young rascal. "Mr. Clayton +trusts me in all things, and often gives me his latch-key and the +room keys when he wants anything from the apartment. Anything else?" + +"Yes," stammered the lad, surprised at the stern glare of Braun's +expectant eyes. "The Fidelity fellows have been piping off all Mr. +Clayton's movements. They watch him on account of the big money that +he handles every day. I know the man who shadows Clayton, twice +a week, regular, on all his evening trips. They've got their +spotters, too, in all the big bar-rooms, and all around the gambling +houses, the race courses, Wall Street and the Tenderloin. + +"Now, after Clayton left, to-day, Ferris the lawyer came in and +told Mr. Robert Wade, that's our chief manager, that the Fidelity +Company would make their, written reports twice a month to him, +while the lawyer's gone." + +"I must have these reports!" cried Braun, forgetting the raised +pitch of his voice, but the Venus and Tannhauser coterie around +were all now fondly busied with each other. + +"I can get them! I have a key to Wade's own desk," glibly mouthed +the young spy. + +"How did you get it?" eagerly demanded the astonished Braun. + +"I had it made to get at his cigars," proudly boasted the unabashed +lad. "Wade keeps a couple of boxes of the best Havanas on Company +account, for the 'big customers.' Yes, and a drop of good old +cognac, too. + +"There's often a bit of fun behind the ground glass partitions. +I've scraped a little eye hole." + +"You are your sly mother's own darling imp," growled Braun, bringing +out his pocketbook. "She was the devil's own, too, before she got +old and lost her good looks," he sighed. + +"Tell me," said he, selecting a note with grave deliberation, "how +much did Clayton deposit to-day?" + +"Only thirty-eight thousand," contemptuously answered the boy, as +he clutched the note now held out to him. "Sometimes it's a round +hundred thousand," continued Emil, eager to show off his knowledge, +"and on the annual settlements, July 1 to 4th, last year we put +in two hundred thousand into the Astor Place. That's our biggest +monthly settlement. I always help Mr. Clayton pack it up, in his +own room, after he verifies the accountant's tabs." + +Fritz Braun suddenly awoke from a reverie. "Get out of here now, and +see that you post me on all that this Clayton is up to at night, +on his Sundays and vacations. I'll give you a third twenty for +the two keys. I may want to take a look at his rooms some Sunday +when you are sporting out of town. + +"And watch the spotters, too! You might do a good turn in pocket +money by posting him, but only as I tell you, mind that! Now, don't +go to the devil too fast. Do you ever give your mother any money?" + +Einstein's vicious leer was a silent answer. "Tell her she shall +have a new silk dress from me, if you keep your wits about you. +Remember, Monday!" + +The lad sped away at a curt nod of dismissal, and was soon lost in +the devil's whirlpool of the Bowery. + +But, as Mr. Fritz Braun sedately finished his cosy dinner, he saw +strange golden gleams in the blue, wreathing smoke mists of his +Perfectos. + +"Two hundred thousand; that would be a stake. And July, too; this +lawyer fellow gone. What a chance! There must be no mistake now! He +must lead himself on, now. One prick of the hidden hook and this +fat trout would be off forever I must see Irma and coach her. +Donnerwetter! It's too good to be true. After all this waiting. +And now I've got to keep my eyes on both the spider and the fly. +Irma is such a tempestuous devil. If Leah only had her years and +looks and dash, she would twist any man in the world around her +finger. But I can never teach this Hungarian madcap, Leah's velvet +softness and never-tiring patience." + +The prosperous pharmacist gleefully paid for his dinner and nimbly +chased an East-side ferry-bound car. He laughed in spite of himself +at Emil's unflagging deviltry. "He is a credit to Leah's Polish +blood and my Austrian nurture," mused Braun. "The young wretch +might be dangerous, too. He must know nothing of my deep game." + +"If this Clayton will only break into the flirtation in the right +way, the victory is assured. But, if he were to show her off around +town, or try and dodge these spotter fellows in New York, then I +should lose a year's time, my expenses, and this heavy money stake. +It's the one chance of a life time." + +In half an hour, Fitz Braun, crossing on the Tenth Street Ferry to +Greenpoint, was soon lost, as was his wont, in the human hive of +Brooklyn toilers. Men had seen him go over for years invariably on +this ferry, his burly figure was always seen on the Fulton Ferry +daily at half-past eight each morning, but not a soul among the +thousand clients of Magdal's Pharmacy knew where the human fox, +Fritz Braun, laid his head to rest at night. + +From nine till four he lurked behind the high dispensing screen +of Magdal's Pharmacy, his inner life and antecedents a sealed book +to all the sleuth-eyed votaries of vice on Sixth Avenue. + +And yet, for all his craft, on this balmy night of spring, the +man who had buried Hugo Landor's stormy past forever under staid +Fritz Braun's impenetrable mask, shivered while plotting his new +iniquities lest the panther-footed pursuer might even now demand at +his hand a life in return for those victims who had lain, staring +eyed, cold in death, mute witness against him in far away Vienna. +The terrible record of his past evil days haunted his every footstep +now. He saw these avenging eyes even in his dreams. + +There was but one who could lift the veil of the awful past. On +this eventful night Fritz Braun hid, within his heart, an awful +resolve, born of the fear of the disguised felon, floating uneasily +in the maelstrom of a great city. "If she should betray me, and +women are women, after all," he mused in his cowardly ferocity. +"If she pulls this off for me, I'll"--he ceased, with an inward +shudder, for he dared not give the awful thought its fitting frame. + +"Only at the last," he murmured, as he sped along in Brooklyn's +dingy water streets to take on another mask to veil his wolfishly +evil life. + +While snares and pitfalls were being laid for Randall Clayton's +careless feet, that gentleman sat in a wrathful mood, pondering +over Arthur Ferris' half-hearted disclosures. Clayton's face had +frankly disclosed his displeasure at the false attitude of his +chum, when Ferris reluctantly disclosed the fact of the secret +financial espionage. + +The three years of their past intimacy now took on a different +color, at once, to the jaundiced eyes of the young cashier. + +He had almost abruptly declined Ferris' invitation to spend Sunday +at Seneca Lake, with the prosperous lawyer's mother and two sisters. + +A feeling of bitter envy gnawed at Clayton's heart as he counted +up the rapid rise of his quondam friend. + +"So, he has been playing this double game for years; it must have +been at Worthington's bidding. And why?" + +It began to dawn at last upon Clayton that his Detroit patron had +certainly followed a singular course in his apparent beneficence. + +All unused to social intrigue, Clayton ignored the possible effect +of his further presence in Worthington's household as an attractive +young man when little Alice, at a bound, passed through the gates +of girlhood and became the beautiful Miss Worthington. He had +never seen the angel at his side, and yet Ferris, clearer eyed, +had conquered in silent craft a golden future. + +Clayton lingered at his table in the Grand Union café long after the +waiter had removed his half-tasted dinner. He ordered an unaccustomed +"highball" as he pondered over some means of circumventing the +social treason of his dethroned "friend." + +Clayton easily found a valid reason, for the semi-treason of Ferris. + +"He is, after all, a stranger to me. His ambition leads him onward +and upward. He would tread on my body gladly in mounting to the +great monopolist's confidence. It is easy enough to see why Ferris +has played both the spy and lickspittle. It has paid him well. +Here's a jump to handling Worthington's power of attorney. Of course, +Ferris seeks the position of the one Eastern lawyer of the great +Trust. + +"But," and a wave of anger swept away all the grateful memoirs +of his youth, "why did this cool old badger, Worthington, take me +to his home, later back me through college, and then, and there +railroad me off here to be fenced around with his spies? He could +have easily dropped me at any time. If he really cared to advance +me, why not have made me a lawyer and breed me up to share his +secrets?" There came no answer to his troubled mind as he sat there, +alone, despising Ferris and doubting even Worthington's candor. + +He had revolved several future plans of action in his mind before +reaching the vitreous substratum of the generous high-ball. His +first indignant impulse was to give up the joint apartment in a +fortnight. + +May the first was rapidly coming on by Nature's calendar of leaf +and bird, of deepening green in the park and light-hearted woman's +smartening attire. + +"No," he resentfully cried, as he threw his cigar away and paid his +bill, "that would only show them my hand. I'll make no open enemy +of Ferris." + +"But I will dodge Worthington's spies and then lock up my heart. +I will keep on good terms with Worthington's lickspittle and try +and later reach the secret of all this strange behavior. The old +man seems unwilling to let me go out of his control, and yet he +has tied me down to this ironclad money mill--as a slave rubbing +the lamp for him." It opened a gloomy future to him, this dreary +hour of introspection. + +Randall Clayton had not lost all the opportunities of his New York +life for a peep behind the metropolitan scenes. He knew that there +was an inside view to be had of the clubs, the great hotels, the +show life of the smart set, the pretentious apartment houses, the +banks and theaters, the ambitious schemes of business and professional +men. + +One by one the shams had yielded to his prying gaze, and, but too +well, he knew the truth of Tom Moore's trite remark, "False the +light on glory's plume!" + +But, straightforward and sincere, he had never watched his +own environment. The loss of his mother in his childhood and his +father's lonely struggle to retrieve his fallen fortunes had left +the boy without happy memories of boyhood, with no family history +to aid him, and the embarrassment of his dependence upon Hugh +Worthington had robbed him of the confidences incident to young +manhood. + +Only in his books had he learned of the passionate, hot hearts +beating behind the silken armor of womanhood. + +For who had noticed the dependent, the poor, plodding college boy? + +Worthington's Detroit home was a mere social machine-shop, a place +of vanished glories during the adolescence of Miss Alice, and no +Diana had stooped to kiss the forgotten young Endymion sleeping +in the Lethe of a New York business obscurity. Clayton's life had +been gilded by few joys. + +His whole nature rose up in a sudden rebellion against this "personally +conducted" career in life. "I am to be a mere hoodwinked worker +in this millionaire's treadmill. A bond slave to one of the great +Trusts which are chaining the whole American population to the +galley-oar for life. + +"I must be fairly paid, decently dressed, sufficiently fed, to play +my part as a decent workman; that is all. We will see!" + +He had now crushed out all lingering remnant of a friendly feeling +for Ferris. + +Even the last social invitation rankled in his mind. "I suppose +that he wanted to pump me, at ease, under the guise of a homelike +hospitality. If there is any little game being played around me, +I will now take a hand in it." + +As he moved to the door, the memory of that bewitching woman's +face rose up once more to thrill the very core of his lonely heart. +"She looked lonely. Perhaps she is, like myself, a solitary sail on +Life's lonely ocean. And I shall never see her again! Lost in New +York's human flood. But I'll buy that picture, if I live till Monday. +It will call her back to me; bring back her vanished loveliness." + +A motley crowd was pouring into the various doors of the huge +hostelry, for the evening trains were depositing the flotsam and +jetsam of humanity into busy Gotham. + +Prosperous tourists, crafty schemers, brazen politicians, overdressed +drummers, and flashy sporting men were pouring in to seek the "first +aid to the weary," which the nearest available hotel affords to +the cramped and jaded traveler. + +Even the sidewalks were now thronged with anxious-eyed women, some +of them with wildly-beating hearts, awaiting the kind "gentleman +friend" who so often mysteriously appears at the cross-roads of +Life. + +From the Forty-second Street Station the "new departure" of many +a life has begun, the radial lines often curving downward into the +sheer depths of ruin of the Morgue, or the darkened abysses of the +Tenderloin. + +Alas! That no angel with a flaming sword stands ready to warn away +the helpless from the gates which close behind the unwary with a +deadly clang. + +Randall Clayton drew back as a stalwart traveler jostled him, only +to spring forward in the ardor of mutual recognition. + +"Jack Witherspoon, by all the gods," cried the delighted New +Yorker. "What brings you here?" + +"The Chicago Limited, my boy!" coolly answered the jovial Westerner +as he dragged his friend back into the café. "I do confess the need +of an 'eye-opener' after my meal of cinders." + +In ten minutes Clayton knew all the salient facts of Jack's career. + +Their lives had diverged at the college gates, and the bustling +Witherspoon, now the lawyer of a great Michigan railway company, +was on his way to Europe for a six-months' tour. + +Clayton's spirits vastly rose in their reminiscent chat, and, in +ten minutes, the two ex-collegians were on their way to Clayton's +apartment. Members of the same fraternity, it was natural that +Witherspoon should gladly accept the offered hospitality of his +old-time comrade, + +"I am tied down to business," said Clayton, "but I can put you up +here far better than Room 999 of any Broadway hotel. We can have +our nights together, at least, until the 'Fuerst Bismarck' takes +you out on the blue." + +They had returned from a jolly supper, after dismissing the +carriage, and the pipes were lit before Witherspoon found time to +go into his friend's affairs. The memories of old days were still +upon them when the Detroit lawyer, after a close study of his +friend's face, demanded flatly, "And are you satisfied here?" + +"You see my surroundings, Jack," replied Clayton. "I've told you +about where I stand." + +"But," protested his friend, "your life is too lonely. You know +what a genial circle we have in Detroit. You would have already +risen to be a man of mark among us! And our old set are now rising +to be the men in power. You were easily our leader." + +Clayton uneasily replied, for he saw the questioning glances of his +friend's eyes, "I have very little time to throw away. And I have +had Arthur Ferris with me here." + +"In your position you should have already married and settled down," +resolutely contended Witherspoon. "Besides, you'll lose Ferris +soon. He's slated to marry Alice Worthington, I hear." + +The smoking-table between them went over with a crash as Clayton +sprang to his feet. + +"Impossible!" cried the cashier. "Ferris never told me anything of +it." + +"Certainly not," calmly replied Jack Witherspoon, as Clayton busied +himself with the wreck and ruin. "It's not in his game to do anything +but hoodwink you. What did he tell you now of this Western trip?" +Clayton frankly unbosomed himself to his visitor, pacing up and +down in a sudden indignation. + +"All that story of Miss Worthington's illness is mere moonshine," +confidently answered the Western lawyer. "Hugh Worthington is one +of the coldest business calculators in America." + +"Our road and its allies are naturally inside of all the secrets +of the big cattle trust. I have watched the old Croesus' career for +years. It's only since I got into possession of the law business +of this branching-out railroad that I have been able to fathom old +Worthington's designs. + +"He has used young Ferris for years to quietly gather in all the +loose stock of his unsuspicious partners. You may not know that +Arthur Ferris is the favorite nephew of Senator Durham, Chairman +of the Committee on Interstate Commerce. + +"This Western visit of old Worthington's is only a betrothal trip +for Ferris and Miss Alice. The Senator and his friends will put +up the legislation. + +"Worthington is craftily frightening out all his Western partners +and Mr. Arthur Ferris will bob up at the annual election with a +stack of proxies and a power of attorney from Worthington. + +"The new deal will follow the annual election, old Hugh captures +the whole concern, Mr. Ferris will be not only Hugh's son-in-law +but the new managing vice-president in the East. The trick will +double old Hugh's fortune. Once husband of the old miser's only +child, he can be trusted to guard his own. So, look out for yourself!" +Clayton's eyes burned with a sudden anger. + +"You asked me why I did not marry," he fiercely cried. "I have +a fair salary. True; but at a word, on a single telegram from old +Hugh, out I go. Dropped, cast off like a squeezed lemon." Clayton's +eyes gleamed in a sudden rage. + +"Have you saved much?" demanded his friend. Clayton shook his +head. "I have a couple of thousand in bank, that's all." + +"Then you are dependent upon this old skinflint's bounty," answered +the lawyer, "for you have no profession, no backing, no capital. +He wished to leave you helpless in his hands; I see it all. The +crafty old fox! To watch you during your boyhood, to railroad you +away from Michigan, and to hoodwink you as to your possible rights. +Never mind, old man; I will be back in three months, and if you +will confide in me, we may frighten a good sum out of Worthington. + +"But you must let this annual election go on undisturbed. Smile +and keep your counsel. Let this sleek ferret Ferris, go on and marry +the girl, for I, alone, can aid you. Worthington fears me. I know +too much of his secret operations. + +"When I get you a slice of your lost patrimony, you can break loose, +find yourself a fitting mate, and lead the life of a man, and not +a galley-slave. Oh! It has been a beautifully worked scheme. The +parchment-faced old wretch!" + +"What do you mean? Explain yourself! Have I been tricked like a +dog my whole life?" cried Randall Clayton, the hidden espionage +and Ferris' duplicity returning to arouse him into a glow of rage. + +"I mean only this," coolly answered Jack Witherspoon, "our railroad +has just agreed to pay Hugh Worthington two millions of dollars for +two hundred acres of outlying city lands, to be used as our lumber +and ore and stock-handling depots. The lake commerce has increased +a thousand fold. + +"I had still supposed it was only railroad rivalry which caused our +people to keep the purchase secret and to record only a ninety-nine +year lease, when they had Hugh Worthington's guarantee deed in +their possession. + +"He takes the whole purchase price out in freights, paid in to him +by your cattle trust, and with this same money he buys the majority +of the outlying stock." + +"How does this touch me?" cried the now thoroughly angered Clayton. + +"Because your father deeded all the real estate holdings of Clayton +& Worthington to his partner before the old trouble came on. Only +this, a then valueless, tract was forgotten. + +"In honor and equity you are entitled to one-half as Everett +Clayton's heir." + +The young cashier clenched his fists in anguish, as Witherspoon +sadly said: "But he has had twenty-one years' unbroken possession. +You were of age seven years ago, and he allowed it to be sold +for taxes every year, and has also secretly bought up all the tax +titles. It is too late. But wait, keep silent, and trust to me." + + + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +IN MAGDAL'S PHARMACY. + + + + + +Randall Clayton and his friend heard the "chimes at midnight" after +the disquieting disclosures. Witherspoon finally allayed Clayton's +sudden distrust. The Detroit lawyer succeeded in lamely explaining +his own delay in making the fraud known. + +"You see, Randall," he finally said at parting for the night, "I +must live my life in Detroit under the heel of these great operators. + +"I intended to take this long hidden matter up on my return from +this trip, but I have been carried on, into a premature confidence. + +"Just take care of yourself and bide your time! I want Worthington +to consummate the whole deal. I wish the marriage and the election +to take place undisturbed by clamor. For Worthington has put a +fancy price on the land. It is to-day only worth a million at market +rates. We, however, get immediate possession and pay in hauling, +but the real extra million comes out of the pockets of the Cattle +Trust, for as President, Worthington sells his own land really to +the Cattle Company for two million dollars. + +"He has duties as a Trustee to all the stockholders of the cattle +association. When all is over, when Ferris is his son-in-law, +I will have Senator Durham connected with this matter. The young +couple will set up in royal style. + +"I will then open out on Hugh Worthington, lay all the uncontested +facts before him, and bring him to bay! I will soon squeeze out of +him a fortune for you and also one for me. I only want twenty-five +per cent. of the recovery. That will be a guarantee against my +losing my place as railroad attorney. But old Hugh will never dare +to "squeal." He wants social quiet, and he does not care to have +his toga of respectability ripped up." + +"Your motive?" agnostically demanded Clayton. I am poor, friendless; +you will risk much in this." + +"There's a sweet little dark-eyed French-descended angel in +Detroit, whom I will then marry at once," smilingly answered Jack +Witherspoon, "that is, as soon as Papa Worthington has given me the +sinking fund. Any college man is a fool now who marries in these +days unless he has the assured income on the principal of a quarter +of a million." + +"Money is the one thing, my boy," sighed Jack. "Without it, Venus +herself, ever young and ever fair, would be a millstone around +any man's neck, in these later days. Great God! How you missed it! +If I had only stumbled on this discovery sooner. You could have +antedated Ferris' crafty game. + +"You could have easily married Alice. She has often told my Francine +that you were the noblest of men." + +But the moody Randall Clayton had tired already of hearing Miss +Francine Delacroix's praises in divers keys. + +"Poor Little Sister," muttered Randall Clayton. "Traded off +to a senator's nephew, for an illicit government pull. Damn all +treachery!" he growled, as he stalked off to bed. + +He felt that he was powerless in his calculating friend's hands, +and yet, the possibilities of a coming future swept him from his +feet. He wanted money now but for one purpose--revenge upon Arthur +Ferris. + +"Of course," he growled, "the dog knew the whole deal, and has +been a secret guardian over me, in the interest of the thief who +has robbed my father's grave. Poor, dear old Dad! If he had only +remembered these cheap lands and set them aside for me. It was +the only real estate holding forgotten in the hard-driven bargain +which vastly enriched old Hugh. But old Hugh shall pay; yes, to +the last farthing. I will lock up my heart. I will circumvent his +spies, and then await my own hour of triumph. It will be a fight +to the finish and no quarter asked or given. I swear it!" + +A thorough confidence was reestablished between the two collegians +before the coming of Monday morning took Randall Clayton back +to his money mill. His first impulse to give up the apartment had +returned to him. He now loathed the memory of Arthur Ferris as the +slimy snake in the grass; and yet he resisted his desire to shove +all the traitor's traps into a storage warehouse. + +"Be ruled by me, Randall," urged Jack Witherspoon, as he set out +on Monday morning for his last business conferences with the New +York end of his railroad employers. + +"I will surely make Hugh give up the million. You shall have your +three-quarters, for it would be ruin to Worthington to drag out +his relations with Durham." + +"Play the honest Iago. Keep your counsel. Dismiss this from you +mind. Make love to some pretty girl, amuse yourself. Do anything +but drink or gamble. Keep up a jolly mien. Go in to the summer +pleasures a little. It will throw these two crafty ones off their +guard. The weeks will soon roll around. I will cable you of my +return. + +"Then we will jointly descend upon this new combination of +Worthington, Durham, and Ferris. But I must first be in Detroit, +back in my impregnable railroad law fortress. Then, at my nod, +he settles or down come the gates of Gaza on him! Remember that +you have no one in your matrimonial eye. I want to win Francine +Delacroix's home from these robbers. And then install the little +dainty therein. I will go in and win for you!" + +The college comrades had now unravelled all the past, and their +Sunday outing had after all been a jolly one. Thoroughly reassured, +Clayton had given Jack Witherspoon his whole history, and the future +campaign was laid out in all its details. + +"As for these Fidelity Company men," said Jack, "you can gjve them +the go by in only frequenting secluded places. + +"As long as you avoid the public resorts of New York, they cannot +reach you. But keep your eyes always open. And, remember, secrecy +above all. If Hugh Worthington should divine our plan to unveil +his devilment, you might be the victim of some 'strange accident!' + +"Money has a long arm in these days," ominously said the lawyer, +"and, it can strike with remorseless power. So, keep on here, but +look out for yourself. + +"I shall not come back to your rooms. I will send for my luggage; +go down to the Astor House, and you must not be seen in the streets +with me. I want Worthington to think that I have dug up his villainy +all alone. + +"Otherwise you would suffer in some strange way. + +"When I open my battery, you must publicly resign your place by a +simple telegram. And then jump out of New York to some secret haunt +until I telegraph you to come to Detroit and make your deeds for +the stolen property." + +Clayton saw the cogency of his friend's reasoning, and, after +agreeing to meet Witherspoon in the Astor Rotunda each evening until +the sailing of the "Fuerst Bismarck," he proceeded to the office +to take up the white man's burden. + +Swinging down Fourteenth Street from Broadway, he paused once more +to look at the lovely Danube scene smiling out from the window of +the Newport Art Gallery. + +It was an exquisite artist proof and bore the name of the Viennese +artist and a pencilled address. "I'll buy it at once," thought the +man whose memory now brought back that lovely, wistful face. + +As his foot was on the doorstep he paused. "No! It may bring her +back to me! When I go out to the bank I can step in and secure it. +It can remain on exhibition in the window for a few days. She may +be there again to-day, who knows?" + +He was under the spell of the unknown beauty again, as he absently +exclaimed, "Pardon me!" when he rudely jostled a sedate-looking +gentleman emerging from the gallery. "My fault, sir," courteously +remarked Mr. Fritz Braun, beaming benevolently through his blue +glass eye screens. + +The pharmacist turned and raised a warning finger as Clayton hastened +away to resume his morning duties. + +In the doorway, following Braun's mouse-colored overcoat, as he +mingled with the "madding crowd," stood Mr. Adolph Lilienthal, the +proprietor of the "Art Emporium." + +Briskly rubbing his hands, the art dealer murmured "Vot devilment +is Fritz up to, now?" + +He was only one of the many comrades in evil of the Sixth Avenue +chemist, for Mr. Lilienthal boasted a "private view" room, in rear +of his pretentious "Art Gallery," where many conveniently arranged +interviews habitually took place. + +Not one in one hundred of his patrons knew the secret of that room +with its cosy divans and a private entrance to the stairway of an +adjoining fashionable photograph gallery. + +But the dealers in the "queer," the handlers of lottery tickets, +the pool-sellers, the oily green-goods man, and many a velvet-voiced, +silken clad Delilah knew the pathway to that inner room. + +Benevolent-looking old capitalists with gold-rimmed spectacles; +soft-eyed sirens of the Four Hundred, and the splendid Aspasias of +the apartment-house clique, brisk clubmen, and the reckless jeunesse +doreé, were all in the secret of the "private view" rooms. + +A meek, furtive cat-like connoisseur was Mr. Adolph Lilienthal, +and the "diamond coterie" of smugglers often hastily exchanged in +the safe retirement of the "art parlors" packages of glittering +gems all innocent of Uncle Sam's imposts. The "Newport Art Gallery" +was a gem, a very gem in itself and judiciously protected. + +Mr. Fritz Braun enjoyed the crystalline spring air as he hastened +along to catch his avenue car. There was a gleam of triumph behind +the blue shields as he murmured, "If she only plays her part as I +laid it down yesterday, he is a hooked fish, sure enough." + +Randall Clayton sat for an hour in his office, dispatching his +accumulated two-days' mail, all unobservant of the cat-like tread +of Einstein, the office boy, moving in and out. He lingered in a +gloomy reverie, after checking up his correspondence, and a half +hour's sharp dictations, absorbed in the cautious letter of Hugh +Worthington, Esq., the man who had robbed him of his birthright. + +It was in vain that he tried to be cool. Every drop of blood in +his heart now throbbed through his pulses in an eager unrest. He +had suddenly lost faith in all men. "Wait, only wait," he murmured, +and then started up as Einstein touched his arm. + +"Mr. Somers has the deposits all ready, now, sir. It's a quarter +of twelve," the boy remarked, with a veiled scrutiny of the +restless-eyed cashier. Clayton sprang to his feet and then, with +lightning rapidity, packed up the treasure which the old accountant +had gathered out of the morning mail, and received from the prompt +and timorous debtors fearful of having their "credit cut." + +He was fifteen minutes late as he stepped out upon Fourteenth Street, +valise in hand and the ready pistol once more in his pocket. The +day's "haul" was rich in checks and light in cash, but the total +was a considerable fortune. + +"Serve the old brute right if I'd bolt some day with a good stake," +wrathfully murmured Clayton. "He would be in for fifty thousand +dollars' bond! Damn his famed benevolence. He wished to anchor me +here for life, and, so cover his tracks. He might even put up a +fancied theft on me if I quarrel. I'll be out of this slavery the +very moment that Jack opens his guns. And he shall pay the last +score, to the last stiver!" + +In a vain effort at self deception Randall Clayton avoided glancing +at the art window where he had seen the mysterious beauty until +he was abreast of it. But his beating heart told him already that +she was not there. He paused a moment, once more to feast his eyes +upon the picture which he proposed to order reserved for him on +his return from the Astor Place Bank. It was gone! + +He started back in surprise as he saw the place of honor vacated. +There was only a mawkish color reprint of "Mary Stuart and Rizzio" +parading its faded romance in the show window. Resolutely entering, +he quickly called for the proprietor. + +In his momentary excitement, Clayton failed to notice the sly twinkle +of Mr. Adolph Lilienthal's crow-footed eyes. "You had a beautiful +artist proof of a Hungarian scene in your window this morning," +began Clayton. + +"Sold, sir; you are but a few moments too late," blandly replied +Lilienthal, in his best manner. "We are just packing it up for a +lady. An exquisite thing; sorry I cannot replace it, sir," remarked +the vendor, "Show you anything else?" + +"You could not order me another, could you?" blankly demanded +Clayton, with a baffled sense of losing both the lady and the art +gem. + +"It was a unique proof," volubly continued Lilienthal. "I might, +however,"--he briskly turned to an assistant, and after a few words, +led the annoyed Clayton back to a counter. + +There a packing case was lying, plainly marked 'Fräulein Irma +Gluyas, No. 192 Layte Street, Brooklyn." + +"I might open it," hesitated the dealer, "and yet, the lady might +not like it. She paid a round price for it, a hundred dollars. And +some persons do not like to have a proof duplicated. Still, I could +get the artist's name and address, and then my agents in Vienna +perhaps could get one. I might see the lady. She is a patron of +mine. This is Mr. Randall Clayton, is it not?" + +The young man started in surprise, as his hand involuntarily +closed upon the handle of his portmanteau. "Oh, we are neighbors," +laughed Lilienthal. "Your Mr. Robert Wade frequently drops in here +to pick up an etching or a bit of French color. I do a good deal +of business with the gentlemen of the Western Trading Company." + +Clayton dropped his hand, instantly mollified. "I wish you would +see what you can do," he cordially said. "Perhaps the lady only +purchased it to fill a place on the walls of her drawing room. I, +at least, would like to be allowed to open it and have you take the +particulars. If she has no objection, you might be able to order +me a replica." + +Lilienthal stood musing for a moment with his ferret eyes gleaming +under their bushy brows. "I might try! Suppose you look in here +after your lunch. The fact is," laughed the dealer, "Fräulein +Gluyas only took a sudden fancy to the Danube view a few days ago. +And she has gone down to the bank to get the money to gratify her +whim. She seemed to think some one else might claim it, and she +dropped in a half an hour ago, and ordered it packed up. She will +take it home in her carriage, as such a proof can be easily injured." + +Randall Clayton's eyes were fixed on the floor, as he nodded an +assent. "I'll be back in half an hour. See what you can do," he +pleasantly said. "And at any rate, I'll be thankful to be allowed +to have the data." + +"I think I can fix it all right," genially remarked Lilienthal. +"Fräulein Gluyas is a Hungarian prima donna of rare merit, an artist, +too, of no mean order. She may be heard here in grand opera this +winter. She is living in retirement until Mr. Grau's return, as +she does not want to be heralded before the public." + +Clayton tried to appear unconcerned as he asked, "Is she married?" + +"She is single," carelessly remarked Lilienthal, showing Clayton to +the door. "And I am told she has refused some very eligible offers +at home. But she is a Magyar of an old and noble family and they +detest the Austrian nobility, who have now all the fortunes and +privileges of the old Hungarian noblesse." + +With crimsoned cheeks Randall Clayton was speeding away to the bank +before he had digested the crafty dealer's story. He was reassured +at the mention of Robert Wade's name and, hemmed in, all in ignorance +that his grave-mannered superior often met a bit of very lively +"French color" in the luxurious solitude of the "private view" +room, as yet a terra incognita to the young cashier. + +For Mr. Robert Wade had a "Sunday-school reputation" to support, +and was dignified, worldly wise, a pillar of a fashionable church, +and hence, duly sly. His left hand often wisted not the doings of +his right hand, and Lilienthal found in Mr. Robert Wade a judicious +and accommodating patron. + +"This is a simple-minded youth," grinned Lilienthal, as he turned +away. "He has swallowed my story, and--I fancy I see Mr. Fritz +Braun's little game. I wonder if the Vienna witch is still over +there. I must hurry up and post her. This young chap may be a good +customer, for he handles plenty of money." And the brisk Figaro darted +away, his eyes gleaming in the ardor of the undying covetousness +of the Israelite. + +While Mr. Adolph Lilienthal was cautiously conducting a Philadelphia +money magnate into the "Private Gallery," a closely veiled lady +was entering that sanctum from the photographer's hall. The secret +of the two double rings of the push button admitted her to the +"packing room," where an innocent-faced young German lad stood guard +over the complicated system of letter boxes, telegraph racks, and +telephones in that jealously guarded "packing room." + +It had been a busy morning with the astute Lilienthal, and the sudden +arrival of the "big fish," a wary "customer" from the Schuylkill, +caused the dealer to temporarily forget Randall Clayton. He scented +only an ordinary amorous intrigue in the young man's ardent desire +to make that particular "artist proof" his own. + +Besides, the postman had just staggered in with a considerable +bundle of letters all addressed to the Newport Art Gallery. There +was a good hour's work for the rosy-faced graduate of a Viennan +cafe in removing the decoy wrappers and assorting the private +correspondence which alone paid the rental of Mr. Lilienthal's +"emporium." + +Randall Clayton was already hastening back from the Astor Place Bank, +forgetting his own luncheon in his eagerness to hear once more of +Fräulein Irma Gluyas, when Mr. Fritz Braun had at last disposed +of the morning swarm of "privately attended" customers at Magdal's +Pharmacy. + +The blue-spectacled chemist had been working with lightning rapidity +behind his effective screen, following the whispered directions +of his depraved London assistant. It was for him an anxious morning. + +His heart would have leaped up in a wild joy had he known how +carefully Randall Clayton had already entered the accidentally +found address in the little silver-clasped address book, in which +he had recorded, with judicious cabalistic cloudiness, the combinations +of his safes and certain vital private business memoranda. + +These secrets were all hidden in a mass of artfully inserted +characters so as to defy the curious eye of any stranger in case +of mishap, but the young cashier's fingers trembled with eagerness +as he had paused on his way in a corridor to boldly enter an already +beloved name. + +"I can easily find her out over there," Clayton murmured. "She +shall not drift out of my life. I must some day read the secret of +those wistful eyes." + +But Fritz Braun, anxiously waiting in his den on Sixth Avenue, was +chafing until his labors of the day should cease. "I'm all right," +he mused, "if that sheepshead Lilienthal does not blunder. I do +not dare to tell him too much. And then, if only Irma follows my +instructions. + +"But the wild-hearted witch may speculate in love a little on her +own account. She is only to be trusted as far as any other woman." +He snorted in disdain. "And the fellow is young, eager, good +looking. At any rate, I shall steer them both out of Lilienthal's +clutches. The game is too risky for 'mein frent Adolph.' He is +wrapped up in his greed, his blackmail schemes, his 'sure thing' +villainies. + +"Here is the prize of a life to fight for, and--the electric chair +to face--should I be betrayed. Neither of them shall ever know my +little game." The master plotter was busy with dreams of an ill-gotten +harvest soon to ripen. + +Braun peered out into his shop, sneeringly glanced at two shop girls +lingering at the soda fountain, drew up a chair, picked up the +Staats-Zeitung, and lit a cheroot, while he waited for the advance +guard of the afternoon customers. + +"I dare not go over to the 'Bavaria' until three o'clock," mused +the chemist. "It will never do to let Clayton see me with either +Irma or Lilienthal. Once hooked, though, I can give him plenty +of line, and play him, in the shadows of water too deep for him. +Einstein has given me a fair insight into his character and habits. +I must go and see Leah and take her that promised dress. I need +that boy, for he is true to Leah, his dam, and she at least loves +me as fondly yet as the dumb dog that licks the hand. The other one, +I can never rule that way. Never mind, you proud-hearted Hungarian +devil, I'll tame you yet." There was an ugly cloud on his broad +brow as he dreamed of a yet unshapen crime. + +Fritz Braun, gliding out behind the high sample cases, swept the +morning's receipts out of the large bill compartment of the cash +drawer. "Seventy-five dollars. Not so bad," he grinned, as he +clutched the only thing on earth which he loved. + +The crumpled, greasy green bills! Passed from hand to hand, as the +hard wage of toil, the prize of infamy, the badge of shame! Tossed +from the fingers of the spendthrift, dragged from the reluctant +miser, filched from yokel and rounder, slyly stolen by thieving +domestic or dishonest clerk, still the "long green" was as sacred +to Fritz Braun as Mahomet's emerald banner hanging over the pulpit +of magnificent Saint Sophia to the Moslem heart. + +Magdal's Pharmacy was an innocent enough looking place of business. +Few of the neighboring shopkeepers dated back to the time, long +years ago, when the real Magdal ran upon the breakers of bankruptcy +and disappeared in the "eternal smash" of a final pecuniary ruin. + +The crafty Braun, once a co-laborer with Magdal, had jumped +eagerly at the opportunity of burying the identity of Hugo Landor, +the criminal fugitive, under the banner of the hopelessly wrecked +Magdal. + +Fritz Braun had been a good enough name to use until the crafty +employee had robbed drunken old Magdal's till of money enough to +purchase the now valueless fixtures. + +Magdal, the victim of an expensive liason with a dashing neighboring +French modiste, had tried to keep up a "regular" business. + +All this was foreign to the ideas of the quick-witted Braun, safe +now under his humble alias, and his flowing false beard and the +never absent blue glass eye screens. Braun duly closed the doors +for a "reopening." + +A few dollars spent in paint and gilding, a "gorgeous" soda +fountain "on lease," had soon transformed the dingy interior. A +couple of dozen cheap red plush stools wooed the tawdy Phrynes of +Sixth Avenue, and the light-headed shop girls to a repose from the +crash and roar of the shopping street. + +From a dealer in "fake" goods, Braun cheaply obtained the empty +packages, the jars of colored water, and the stacks of imitation "put +up" goods, which gave to the pharmacy its air of rosy prosperity. +To cater to his natural patrons, cheap perfumes, confectionery, +gaudy nostrums, theatrical make-up, and a round of disguised +narcotics and "headache" medicines were always at hand. + +Braun picked up a waif of the street, an ex-Prussian soldier, who +for a pittance and his daily "rum," slaved in the "Pharmacy" like +a dog, polishing and cleaning until it was the smartest show place +of the neighboring blocks. + +But the citadel of the real business was the huge marble soda fountain, +with its bewildering array of gaudy silver-plated faucets. Above +the rows of bottled "bitters," the fiery drink of the temperance +frauds, high over the three score jars of "nervines" and pick-me-up +preparations, towered a life-size marble statue of Hygeia, glowing +in a voluptuous Parian nakedness. + +Behind the fountain counter, with its serried rows of crystal +glasses in artistic silver holders, there lurked on watch, now, +the factotum, the thieving London-bred drug-clerk who had escaped +"transportation," at Her Gracious Majesty's behest, by slipping +over to New York City disguised as a stoker. + +To him alone was entrusted the traffic in slops and the flimsy +produce of the soda fountain, to him the drudgery of the illicit +Sunday liquor trade, when the "regulars" entered by the side door +from the hall, bearing the portentous sign, "Hugo Adler, M.D., +Physician and Surgeon." + +No mortal had ever gazed upon the legendary Adler, but Timmins +the cockney, and Braunschweiger the ex-Prussian grenadier, gaily +dispensed from jugs and bottles the "spiritual comforts" stacked +up in the "dark room" every Saturday against the Sunday of legally +enforced thirst and resultant sadness. + +But while these minor villains slaved for the master who greedily +snatched every bill from the till, and held them up to a keen return +for every measured drink in the stock of the Sunday "bar" of the +mock drug-store, it was the taciturn Fritz Braun himself who murmured +in confidence to the important patrons of the den. + +The morning run beginning at nine, embraced the haggard-eyed devotees +of pleasure--Wall Street men, clerk and financiers, habitues of +the Tenderloin--actors and men about town. + +In subdued murmurs the skilful Fritz Braun trafficked with these +"shaky" mortals, while Timmins covered their "prescriptions" with +an innocent layer of Vichy. + +Sometimes the favored few entered behind Braun's screen, until the +chemist solved their varying problems by manipulating his vials in +the closely locked cabinet, the key of which never left his person. + +There were little packages by the gross ready in that capacious +lock box. Opium, hasheesh, chorodyne, sulphonal, cocaine, "dope," +all the life-stealing narcotics in every form. + +There were medicines the traffic in which leads even the innocent +behind the bars. + +And it was from the sale of these "nervines," forbidden medicines, +and poisonous agents that the runaway Vienna criminal drew his +increasing revenue. There was an aristocracy among the motley +customers. + +From the "hypodermic" regulars, men and women, laying down their +syringes to be filled with the soul-stealing morphia solution--faded +men and trembling women, down to the shattered wretch, with his +pitiful twenty-five cents for a bit of "dope," no one with money +was turned away. + +Yet all of these passed under Fritz Braun's watchful scrutiny. +The disguised criminal trembled lest some ugly-minded detective or +crank journalist might entrap him into the meshes of the law. + +Alas! Nearly all the customers bore the seal of safety in their +imploring eyes. By the freemasonry of the degenerates, Magdal's +was a known haven of refuge to all the weaklings of Manhattan. + +The frequent ringing of "Doctor Adler's" bell admitted to the +little dimly-lighted rear room the sullen-eyed visitors who bore +away the colorless vials of "knock-out drops," for which five- and +ten-dollar bills were eagerly thrust into Braun's itching palm. + +This important traffic was confided to no one but the real proprietor. +And stealthily-treading, matronly-looking women often found their +way into the den, where nameless "remedies" were sold, often for +their weight in diamonds, the weapons of that hidden guild which +paves New York's streets with the bones of ignorant and martyred +women. For all the thirty-third degree trade of the "consulting-room," +an "introduction" was stiffly demanded. + +Thanks to his craft, to his fear of the awful doom hanging over +him from the unpunished Viennese murders, Hugo Landor had so far +defied detection and avoided all awkward inquiry. Mr. Fritz Braun +always had a prime cigar and a drop of "medicinal cognac" at the +disposal of the visiting policeman. His perfunctory "loans" had +gladdened the hands of several minor officials, whose argus eyes +had noted the Sunday run of Dr. Adler's many friends. + +All these dangerous wares were distributed in unlabelled vials, +and no witnesses had ever verified the transfer of the felonious +knock-out drops. Each week brought to Braun customers from adjacent +cities, many of whom, disguised or veiled, hurried away with the means +of cowardly crime to work the devil's charms at a safe distance. + +Taciturn, morose and keeping his own counsel, Fritz Braun was a +cautious trader with the great supply houses. His bills of purchase +were made out to the welcome "Mr. Cash," and the old prescription +books of Magdal were ostentatiously displayed with a few family +orders dropping in now and then from some befogged physician. The +bond between Lilienthal and Braun had been strengthened by the aid +of the "picture dealer" in smuggling from Hamburg and Bremen much +of the dangerous ware of this mind-wrecking business. + +And so, peddling the means of murder, filling his yawning pocketbook, +Fritz Braun had thrived in solitude until Irma Gluyas sought the +refuge of New York City. + +For the discovery of her picture in the stiffened hands of a suicide, +a young noble officer, ruined by her extravagance, had caused the +Viennese siren to flee the vengeance of a powerful Austrian family. + +And so the lives of these two, linked by folly, sin, crime and mad +extravagance, had run together again far from the scenes where, +led on by her dark eyes, Hugo Landor had stumbled along on the dark +road from theft and forgery to callous murder. + +On this particular April early afternoon, the eager plotter was +willing to leave his afternoon customers to the sly Timmins. The +actresses and lazy demi-monde queens fluttered in always before +sunset, together with a bevy of quacks, whose doubtful prescriptions +were always put up by Timmins, easily capable of brazenly swearing +to "a mistake," or denying upon oath the sale of any clumsy weapon +of medical butchery. + +It was also the time when the floating "shopping women" drifted in +to reinforce their luncheons with Timmins' artfully veiled alcoholic +preparations. + +His row of bottles labelled "Vin Mariani," "Moxie," and "Nervura" +were never empty, and the oldest toper would have found them +veritable "well springs of joy in the desert." + +All the simple machinery of the mock pharmacy was so well oiled +that even an expert could detect no commerce more dangerous than +Lubin's Powders, crimson lip salve, or a powder puff. + +"Fritz Braun, Manager," came and went with regularity, no man +knowing of his home or family ties; the old golden sign of "Magdal's +Pharmacy" covering whatever mystery was not hidden behind those +gleaming blue glasses. + +Save for his regular luncheon at the Café Bavaria, no Sixth Avenue +habitué had ever seen Mr. Fritz Braun at concert, theater, or any +of the places of local or suburban amusement. + +As to woman, he seemed to be sternly indifferent, Save to the +semi-professionals who were as anxious to escape Sing Sing's gloomy +embrace as the man who supplied them with the drugs for their various +"Ladies' Homes." These were welcome "Greeks bearing gifts" of the +coveted "long green" which was Fritz Braun's god. + +Braun was never in the pharmacy after six o'clock, and from that +evening hour when all well-conducted men and women turn to dinner +as the day's culmination, no one had ever set their eyes upon the +bustling manager. + +Friendless he seemed, yet ever cheerful, a man distantly respected +for the open frankness of his business dealings, the order and quiet +of his shop, and his rare capacity for minding his own business. + +It was only in the evening that Mr. Ben Timmins' reign was uncontested. +The flashy young fellows of his caught-up friendships then lurked +around Magdal's Pharmacy where Timmins dispensed complimentary drinks +and lorded over his fluctuating harem of unemployed "soubrettes" +and light-headed shop girls freed from their daily toil. + +In a rough average at a half-way honesty, Timmins "turned in" +habitually about half of the evening's receipts of the "joint," +which, to use his own language, he "ran for all it was worth." + +He had soon lost all fear of his stern employer visiting him at +random, and the clever London rascal now laughed detection to scorn. + +For he always kept in hand one day's stealings so that, if suddenly +"called down," he could glibly explain, "Slipped it in my pocket +in my hurry! The shop was full!" + +While Timmins, returning from his breakfast on this busy Monday, +wondered at Mr. Fritz Braun delaying his comfortable luncheon, +Mr. Adolph Lilienthal was anxiously awaiting his secret partner in +villainy at the "Newport Art Gallery." + +Perhaps the crowning secret of Braun's remarkable success was his +clear-headed avoidance of mixing up the details of his various +schemes. + +Lilienthal knew nothing of Braun's whereabouts as to a real residence, +and the colloquies and settlements of the two always took place in +Lilienthal's little private office, proof against all eavesdroppers. + +The Art Emporium, thronged with the curious, was the safest place +in New York City for casual meetings, and, with a keen suspicion +of his man, Lilienthal never visited Magdal's Pharmacy. He realized +that there might be danger and deception in his fellow villain's +hospitality. + +A doubt of Braun's ultimate end as a citizen had caused the smug +dealer to always avoid Braun at the jolly Restaurant Bavaria, where +the good-natured foreign convives often joined each other over a +stein. + +The "private interests" of the Newport Art Gallery were as jealously +guarded as the inner secrets of Magdal's Pharmacy; furthermore, the +hidden post-office, telegraph exchange, and "private room" busied +the dealer from morn till eve. + +Lilienthal was in a particularly good humor when he at last dispatched +the Danube "artist proof" by an especial messenger to Mr. Randall +Clayton's own rooms. It had all fallen about in a spirit of graceful +courtesy. And three hearts bounded with a hidden delight when the +happy incident occurred. + +When Randall Clayton returned from the Astor Place Bank he had +discovered Mr. Adolph Lilienthal in a particularly cheerful frame +of mind. The young cashier had hastened to his office and delivered +over his bundle of exchange and checked-up bank-book. "I shall be +out for an hour," he sharply called to Einstein. "Wait here in my +office and let any callers return at two o'clock!" + +There was a glow of expectancy on the handsome face of the customer +as Lilienthal rubbed his hands. "I have been fortunate enough to +carry out your wishes, Mr. Clayton," he obsequiously said. "Fräulein +Gluyas has called and paid for her picture. I have told her of your +longing for a replica, and, by telephoning down to my importer, +I have learned that I can get a duplicate in six weeks. + +"She is not altogether satisfied with the framing of this one, and +I have begged her to allow me to sell you this one, so that I can +import one for her framed in our own Viennese manner. + +"The lady awaits your wishes, through me. It certainly is very +courteous on her part. I have done her certain little business +favors and she is kindly willing to oblige." + +"If I could only meet her," murmured Randall Clayton, with lips +dry with all the eagerness of a newly born passion. He was in a +defiant mood now, his whole being stirred with the treason of the +friend of years and the unmasked villainy of his pseudo-benefactor. +This fair mystery allured him strangely. + +"Nothing easier," smiled the dealer, reaching out for his silk +hat. "The Fräulein is taking her usual luncheon at the Restaurant +Bavaria, and I agreed to notify her of your wishes, as she may +travel, and would be willing to wait for the arrival of my Vienna +importation. I will be very glad to present you to her." + +The world took on a new brightness as Randall Clayton passed out +of the shop with the dealer. He scarcely dared to trust himself to +bring up the subject now nearest his heart. + +But the careful directions of Mr. Fritz Braun had given Lilienthal +his cue. The dealer babbled on of pleasant trivial things as they +stemmed the tide of the crowded streets. "I hope that Fräulein +Gluyas will soon appear in opera and achieve the success which she +deserves. She is really here incognito, and spends all her time +in private musical practice at Chickering Hall and the study of +languages." + +"Why this secrecy?" asked Clayton. + +"Ah! My dear sir! These are the ways of impresarios. If Grau does +not secure a certain great operatic star with whom he has quarrelled, +then Fräulein Gluyas will be brought out with a great flourish of +trumpets under a stage name to be selected later. She will then +be heralded as a 'wonder of the world.' It will pay Grau, and he +will also have his revenge!" + +"And if the great star relents?" smilingly asked Clayton, as they +neared the Restaurant Bavaria. + +"Then," cheerfully answered the dealer, "the lady will make a grand +concert tour, adequately supported. It is for that contingency +she is studying English ballads and the language." + +Clayton suddenly remembered the unromantic address of 192 Layte +Street, Brooklyn. "Fräulein Gluyas resides in Brooklyn?" he said, +with a fine air of carelessness. + +Lilienthal's eyes swept obliquely the young man's distrustful face. +"Fräulein Gluyas ordered the picture sent to the rooms of her +music master, 192 Layte Street, Brooklyn. Poor old Raffoni was once +a world-wide star, a velvet tenor. Now he is literally a voice maker, +a master of technique for Maurice Grau. The Hungarian nightingale +studies there, and only takes her hall practice here in the off +season, in Chickering's empty salon. There is a jealous professional +mystery in this secrecy. The summer is the opera's off season, +just as the winter is the same for the great circus and travelling +shows. The hardest work is thus veiled from the public. The impresario +is always a wily individual." + +"And the lady's real residence?" impatiently queried the budding +lover. "That is an absolute secret, for Grau carefully hides away +his coming stars. Somewhere on Long Island an old Hungarian noble +family have had a retreat since the days of Kossuth. + +"The Fräulein is their guest, and, for other reasons than complete +faith with Grau, she receives no one. She is as proud and haughty as +she is beautiful, and rumor has it that the pursuit of an Austrian +Archduke drove her to the safety of our shores. All this I have +gathered from my old friend, Signore Raffoni." + +Clayton mutely followed Lilienthal to the door of a private room +in the "Bavaria" and, with a wildly beating heart, was bowing low +before the woman whose shining eyes had brought to his bosom such +strange unrest. + +"It is like a page from a novel," the flute-like voice murmured, +"that this lucky picture should have brought us together again, as +it strangely did once face to face." + +Randall Clayton's ears drank in that soft, wooing accent, and all +the ardor of his eyes betrayed the instant recognition which lay +behind the diva's merry words. + +When he had murmured his thanks, the presence of Lilienthal seemed +to be a bar to any rapprochement. Clayton was fain to accept Fräulein +Gluyas' courtesy in allowing him a choice as to the handling of +the picture or its replica. + +"If Mademoiselle will allow me," said Clayton, "I will give Mr. +Lilienthal my cheque for the coming proof, and retain in my possession +the one framed in our American manner." + +This was soon settled, and then, with a glance at his watch, the +dealer, bowing low, hurried away. + +"We artists have to be unconventional," frankly said the Magyar +beauty. + +"I await Madame Raffoni here for a little tour of the wonderful +New York shops." + +It was a natural passage from the picture to the memories of the +Danube, and then, under the kindling glances of the diva, Randall +Clayton talked, with spirit, of his happy summer ramblings through +Austria and Hungary. + +Irma Gluyas' magnetic eyes burned into his soul as she followed +the young stranger in his itinerary. It was only when the maître +d'hôtel entered, announcing Madame Raffoni as in waiting in her +carriage, that Randall Clayton's castle in Spain came crashing down +around him. + +The Magyar witch dropped her eyes when Clayton took her hands in +adieu. "You have made me forget time, and my workaday world," he +said. "I have now something to live for--to hear you sing! It seems +so hard to meet only to part. I may never see your coming picture; +you may never see mine again. But I cannot lose you from my life. +It seemed, Fräulein Irma," he said, earnestly, "when I first met +the glance of your dreaming eyes, that I had known you in some +other world." + +"I receive no one; I am a recluse," murmured Irma, with eyes +smiling through down dropped lashes; "but, if you care, you may +come, a week from to-day, and breakfast with me here! Dear old +Raffoni will play propriety. As for the singing, I am pledged to +be mute, parôle d'honneur. But you must be in my first audience. +I must keep an artist's faith with my manager." + +"I shall have the loge d'honneur at your début," enthusiastically +cried Clayton, as he lingered over her frankly extended hand after +murmuring his acceptance. + +The woman who sat, with her head bowed upon her hands, listened to +his receding footsteps. "Il Regalantuomo," she murmured. "It is a +pity, too! What does Fritz want of him?" + +Then gliding serpent-like from the darkened corridor, she joined +the waiting woman in the carriage below, a woman whose form was +but dimly defined beyond the half-lowered silken curtain of the +carriage as Randall Clayton sped along to his money mill. + +Some indefinable impulse kept Clayton from speaking of his breakfast +engagement as he strode into the Newport Art Gallery. His cheque +for one hundred and twenty-five dollars was soon transferred to +Lilienthal in return for the coveted picture, which was dispatched +to the young man's lonely apartment. + +"Not a bad turn," mused Adolf Lilienthal. "I raised him seventy-five +dollars! He paid like a prince, and, if I mistake not, this is his +first and last transaction here. The picture that he wanted is +burned into his heart now." + +It was but one of a hundred similar intrigues to which Lilienthal +had been the successful Leporello, and he calmly betook himself to +the continued villainy of his daily life. He feared also to follow +on the footsteps of the crafty Fritz Braun, for in the years of +their illicit dealings the weaker nature had been molded by the +daring master villain into a habitual subjection. "He has some +little game of his own," chuckled Lilienthal. "Friend Fritz is a +sly one." + +But the man, now burning with a new purpose in life, the puppet of +strange destinies, dreamed only of a golden future as he lingered +late that night at the Astor House with Jack Witherspoon. + +It was two o'clock before he returned to his lonely rooms to gloat +over the picture and its promise of the future meeting. + +"I shall be rich," he mused, "and I will follow her to the end of +the earth until I read the secret of those wonderful eyes." + +He little dreamed that even before he had paid Lilienthal the +cheque, a carriage had stopped for a moment before Magdal's Pharmacy, +and Mr. Fritz Braun had heard, with a wild delight, the whispered +words, "The game is won; he will come!" The busy devil prisoned in +Braun's heart laughed for very joy. + + + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +UNDER THE SHADOWS OF THE BROOKLYN BRIDGE. + + + + + +When the "Fuerst Bismarck" moved grandly away from her wharf and +glided down the stream, Jack Witherspoon paced the deck with clouded +brows. The acute Detroit lawyer had rightly estimated the crushing +effect of his disclosure of Hugh Worthington's treachery. + +The two college mates were now banded together, however, by a secret +compact, and both of them realized the craft of the foe whom they +were fighting. "Not a letter, not a cable, not a single scrap of +paper," said the wary Jack. "And you must keep away from me and be +sure to dissemble all your wrath." + +Clayton appreciated the prudence which had separated them in +the last three days of his friend's stay, and minutely followed +Witherspoon's final descriptions of the hidden plans of the great +syndicate. "You must be ever on your guard," said the new champion, +"and remember the annual election and this strange wedding must be +allowed to take place without suspicion. + +"On my return I shall frankly mingle with the 'upper ten' of the +Trust. You are never to be seen alone in my company. But you can +meet me over in Jersey City; there we can arrange a simple cipher +for future use, and, when the blow falls, you are then to demand +a month's leave of absence. So no word to any one of your destination. + +"If Hugh Worthington lurks on the Pacific Coast until he has made +the coup, I will find him out there. You can be in hiding near, +ready to appear, and then boldly claim your rights. Arthur Ferris +will probably be back in New York City in charge, and Worthington +will yield rather than have the world, his beloved daughter, and +all society know of his inward baseness. I shall delve further +into the old records, under pretense of following up the title to +our purchase. Perhaps we may even now unearth other unconveyed +property." + +Randall Clayton, brave as he was, shuddered when Witherspoon solemnly +said: "Remember! Your life is in your own hands. For God's sake, +be prudent! One little self-betrayal in sudden anger, and then +either Worthington or Ferris would surely compass your death for +this tempting million. You will fight for your birthright, and I +for the future happiness of darling Francine Delacroix." + +When they wrung each other's hands in the last good-bye, "each +heart recalled a different name." + +For, burning on the altars of that lonely heart of Clayton's +was the fierce fire which bound him now as the worshipper of the +velvet-voiced Magyar witch. He, too, had some one to fight for +now, and his ardent fancy painted her in every glowing color of +the passion of young manhood. + +Left alone to his daily affairs, Randall Clayton now lived behind +an impenetrable mask. He knew not which of the higher employees +was charged with that secret espionage so necessary to the final +success of the Worthington, Durham and Ferris conspiracy. + +Was it the pale-faced Somers, the smooth old accountant, his +pompous chief, Mr. Robert Wade, or some one of those who had broken +his bread and drank his wine in the occasional friendship of the +business coterie. And now Clayton hated the old money-lover who was +foisting a husband on his only child merely to chain a Senator to +the wheels of the money chariot. + +Seated alone, in the evening, watching the treasured picture, and +waiting for the day of the diva's breakfast, a fierce desire for +stern reprisals took possession of Clayton. "I have it!" he murmured. +The pathway seemed clear at last. And the next day, following out +his self-protective scheme, he directed the bright-faced office +boy Einstein to report at his rooms on the ensuing evening. + +There was a broad grin on the young rascal's face when he finally +left his master. He darted away with a ten-dollar bill in his purse, +the earnest of a secret monthly stipend. "Some strange fellows +are following me, spying upon me, my boy," said the man who now +doubted all men but one, on earth, and who was fast falling under +the spell of his dreamy adoration of an utterly unknown siren. + +"It matters not who they are or what they want. I wish you to +follow me up, with a good deal of care, in my evening wanderings, +and shadow these spotters. + +"There is a new hundred-dollar bill ready for you when you find +who they are, and where they come from, and who they report to. +You can keep hovering around at a safe distance, and never address +or notice me. Spend what money you like in following my evening +rounds. I'll repay it all. I am going to lead them a merry dance. +Every day, before I leave the office, I will give you a different +rendezvous, up to midnight. You are simply to hover around, ignore +me, and then skilfully shadow my pursuers." + +The service of the Western Trading Company now galled Randall +Clayton like the galley slave's chain. And yet Jack Witherspoon's +counsel had been most wise. For Clayton knew not who had replaced +the treacherous Ferris in that secret espionage, so necessary to +Worthington until the great "deal" had been consummated. + +"Lies, lies, all lies," muttered Clayton, as he read the friendly, +almost fatherly, letters of Hugh Worthington announcing his intended +tour around the world. "The old fox," sneered Clayton, as he read +the "rider" to the capitalist's letter. + +"Ferris will have my power of attorney, and he alone will communicate +with me. If Alice's health demands it, I may vary my route and look +around in the Sierras, or take the summer run to Alaska. I fear +the heat of the Indian Ocean and the Red Sea. But all will depend +upon the doctors and their advice. + +"Report only to Ferris as to any thing you wish to reach me. He +will have my private cipher. All the rest is mere routine." + +But the words of the old money-grabber angered Clayton less than +Ferris' effusive friendly epistles from Detroit. + +"I can excuse Worthington," growled Clayton, as he paced his private +room like a caged tiger. "He has his old crime to cover up, his +only daughter to shield, his vast plans to further. I am only a poor +pawn in his fevered game of life; but Ferris, 'mine own familiar +friend,' he is a traitor, a needless traitor, to his black heart's +core. + +"For it is the sale of a soul, his dirty traffic in my heart's +secrets, a Benedict Arnold of the heart, for mere dirty gain. And +his cold ensnaring of this innocent girl is an outrage; it is a +crime to make her the hostage of Senator Durham's corrupt friendship." + +And yet, mindful of Jack Witherspoon's counsel, he took up the +trade of an honest Iago, and hid his raging hatred behind the mask +of an olden gratitude to the one, a loyal friendship to the other. + +The searchlight of his mind was turned only on the Western conspirators, +and he feared no villainy in the world save the Detroit schemer who +had robbed him of his birthright. "By Heavens! I'll give up trade, +the service of this greedy octopus. I will go abroad and so escape +Worthington's vengeance, and Ferris' duplicity." + +He began to secretly watch every one of the leading New York officials +of the company in order to detect Ferris' successor in the hidden +watch upon his movements. + +It was with a secret longing for the coming Monday of the breakfast +that Clayton passed Lilienthal's window, three days after Jack's +sailing, in company with the grave-featured Robert Wade. His runaway +heart was all unsuspicious now. + +Thank Heaven! There was no longer the graceful woman lingering there +fascinated by the picture whose sunset glories lit up in gold and +purple the lonely man's rooms. But the suave dealer, waiting at +his door, salaamed with effusion as the manager passed. His salute +distantly included Clayton, and the action was not lost upon Robert +Wade. + +"Do you know Lilienthal?" somewhat sharply asked Wade. + +"Not at all," carelessly answered the younger man. "I happened +to drop in and buy a bit of a landscape from him the other day. He +mentioned when I gave him my cheque that you occasionally patronized +him." + +"He is a rare art connoisseur," musingly said Wade, "and I've picked +up a few pretty bits of etching now and then at his shop. You must +come up and see my collection some day." + +Clayton, busied with his day dreams, did not notice the sudden +paleness of the pompous manager. In his own ignorance of the mysteries +of the "private room" and its secret "facilities for patrons," he +never dreamed that the man at his side was "light of foot, fierce +at heart" as the tiger when he stole to the rendezvous arranged +by Lilienthal, who had indeed offered many "choice bits" to the +astute manager. Clayton had stumbled along in New York, blinded to +its dual existence, its gilded shams. + +"I will never set foot in that place again," remarked Clayton, as +he strode alone down University Place to the bank. "Lilienthal must +never know of my further acquaintance with the Fräulein." + +And so, each keeping his own secret hugged closely to an anxious +heart, the two men went along on their different paths, each drawn +along by the invisible threads of life--the one dragged on by a +sudden romantic, resistless passion, the other by the glowing links +of the iron chains of habit, the ruling appetite of a remorseless +lust. And yet both of them were only blinded fools of passion. + +The dragging days until the trysting time for the breakfast were +filled up with business cares, but Randall Clayton had roamed +the streets of New York at night, restlessly, since Witherspoon's +sailing. In a feverish unrest, he had visited concert halls, +theaters, and searched the now deserted club-rooms for a familiar +face. + +A Sunday drive in the Park, and late excursions among the +kaleidoscopic crowds of midnight New York filled up his time until +he should again meet Irma Gluyas. + +He had always turned away in disgust from the painted faces of the +leering sirens of the Tenderloin, and now he sat gloomily eying the +vacuous stare of the rabbit-faced stage beauties capering in their +mock diamonds. For a higher womanly ideal reigned in his lonely +bosom. + +Back, back to the speaking silence of his lonely rooms he wandered, +to gaze through the smoke wreaths upon that picture which had so +strangely brought Irma Gluyas into his life. Gloomily recalling +the past, he went over all the brief memories of his boyhood, and +tried to recall his stern father's few confidences, or picture to +himself the mother whom he had never known. All was a gray blank +of toiling days and carking cares. And Worthington had robbed him +and made him eat the bread of dependence. + +He lived now only to wreak a vengeance upon the man who had shared +his father's early speculations and deserted him in his time of need. +The ruin of Everett Clayton was now explained. And but one gracious +memory lingered with him to lighten the gloom of his dependent +boyhood. + +Golden-haired Alice Worthington, the child-angel of the house, +the frank girlish little playmate, the slim, shy school girl, the +"Little Sister" of his striving college days. And now she was +doomed to be the deluded prey of a vulgar money conspiracy--sold, +body and soul. + +He groaned as he thought of the deliberate sacrifice of the girl's +glorious young womanhood to the vicious ambitions of her father's +mad race for wealth and power. + +"Shall I warn her?" he bitterly mused. And then all his manhood +rose up against discovering a father's shame. "Never!" he cried. "I +have eaten his bread and salt. My quarrel is with him alone! Ferris +is to be the coming bridegroom. He is like all the rest--greedy of +money and power. He will surely make her a "good husband" of the +plutocratic code. Her money, his uncle's influence, bartered off +for each other, will tie them firmly together. She shall never know +from me. But I will fight Hugh Worthington a silent battle to the +death. It will be a life and death struggle under the Black Flag." + +It was this oath which made Clayton resolve to now hide his own +private life slyly from all his colleagues. And it was a most +needful precaution. For one single imprudence would give to his +enemies the secret of his devotion to the dark-eyed woman whose +eyes seemed to shine through all the clouds around him. + +And, strange to say, the watchful Einstein had as yet made +no report, though each night during the week Clayton had seen the +youth hovering afar, at varied times, and in strangely incongruous +changes of external adornment. + +It was while Clayton was hastily packing up his bank deposits, +upon the Monday morning, which had at last arrived, young Einstein +glided into the room and drew Clayton to the door, left slightly +ajar. + +"There, quick," he whispered. "Those two fellows at the elevator, +now. They have just come out from reporting to old Wade. I was in the +office, waiting for Mr. Somers to give me the last mail deposits. + +"Get out and follow them," whispered Clayton. "Come to my rooms +at eight to-night. Your hundred dollars await you." The agile +lad nodded and stole out, springing down the stairs to await the +slowly-descending elevator. + +"Now," growled Clayton, as he viciously snapped the lock of his +portmanteau. "I will hide my every movement from you, my marble-faced +old sleuth. You are the heir of Ferris' infamy." + +And yet, as Clayton descended in the elevator, he realized that +he had no claim whatever upon Robert Wade's friendship. "He has +not betrayed me," murmured the now defiant cashier. "He is only the +human 'transmitter' in Hugh Worthington's 'long-distance telephone' +of villainy." + +But, deep down in his angered heart, Clayton swore an oath to +lead them all a merry dance. "No man among them shall ever have my +confidence, and I will find a way to hide my every movement." + +He would have made a total change of residence at once but for Jack +Witherspoon's friendly caution. And so he sadly dismissed a plan +to follow Irma Gluyas, to find out her real residence, and to be +near her in the hours which she could make a paradise. + +He smiled as he thought of the magnificent corbeille of flowers +which he had already sent over to the Restaurant Bavaria to be +placed in the breakfast-room. He had stolen away for a quarter of +an hour to give his own directions to the grave-faced "Oberkellner," +who was all discretion, as he pocketed Clayton's ten-dollar bill +and said, "I perfectly understand. Madame already ordered the +breakfast on Saturday. The same apartment. And you can trust to +me." The suave politeness of the well-greased palm. + +There was a mild-eyed wonder in the eyes of the dashing attaches +of the Astor Place Bank as Randall Clayton entered on this fateful +Monday morning. For, with that unconscious desire to please of the +lover, Clayton's attire bespoke an unaccustomed elegance. + +And yzt a discreet silence was observed as the sixty thousand +dollars was transferred, and the flying fingers of the lynx-eyed +clerks filled up the dozen drafts which Clayton impatiently awaited. + +In his haste Clayton hailed a passing coupe, dashed away to +the office, and quickly snapping his door after delivering over +his trust, glided down the stairs. "To the Irving Place Theater," +ordered the impatient lover, and then the minutes seemed hours till +he had paid off his man, and then, by Fourteenth Street, hastily +entered the darkened hallway of the Restaurant Bavaria. + +He was but vaguely aware of the presence of Madame Raffoni, as he +bowed low before his hostess. The incognito diva was a dream of +beauty in her ravishing Viennese morning dress. Randall Clayton +drew a new courage from Fräulein Irma's murmured remark, "Madame +Raffoni, unfortunately, speaks no English," and the young enthusiast +only noted that the ex-professional still possessed splendid eyes, +and showed the remains of a considerable personal beauty. + +His whole cares fell away from him as Clayton joined in the merry +mood of his beautiful enchantress. The little dejeuner was a perfect +rapprochement, in the light-hearted happiness of the hour. + +Clayton had cast aside all suspicion when he left the doors of the +Western Trading Company, and over the Liebfrauenmilch and Tokayer +he found a new eloquence. His Western stories, his European +experiences vastly interested the dark-eyed enchantress, and, led +on by the spell of those wistful eyes--Othello-like--he told her +the whole story of his life. For he stood before her, all unarmed +in his sudden love fever. + +Two hours sped by in a lingering day dream, until, yielding to +his murmured entreaties, Irma Gluyas sat down at the piano, and +in thrilling half voice, sang him the songs of the far off Magyar +land. + +As Merlin forgot his wisdom before the wily white-bosomed Vivien, +so did the stormy-hearted American yield to the charm of the woman +who sat there, with the choicest flowers of his offering clustered +over her sculptured breast. Love's old, old story of a total +surrender. + +And then, as the last melody died away, the Hungarian witch softly +sighed, "The shadows are already stealing in! We have stolen a few +happy moments, mon ami. Ships that meet, and speak, and pass. I +will not say Adieu! I will only say that I hope to meet you again. +But your world and mine are so different. I have my career to +make, and you must go on and be a money prince. There are no other +princes in your workaday America!" Madame Raffoni was nodding in +an alcove when the enraptured Randall Clayton caught the diva's +hand. For he could not bear to lose her now; his heart clamored +for her love. + +His kisses warmed its veined marble as he whispered, "I must see +you again. We two are alone in the world. I owe you a return of +your gallant hospitality." + +Her bosom was heaving in a tumult of vague emotion as she whispered, +"I am fenced off from the whole world. My career depends upon my +fidelity to those who trust me. I am absolutely incognito. I live +apart from the world, and I dare not take you to my home. There +is no way. The artist has no home life, no heart life. The world +claims us; all our youth, beauty, talent, even our last energies +are given up to the insatiate public. + +"You must call me back when you look at our Danube picture, and, +when the ban is lifted, if I succeed, you will hear of me. If I +fail," she brokenly murmured, "then, forget me--think of me as only +one who, a stranger in a strange land, has shared Life's cup with +you, in a gleam of passing sunshine." There were bright tears +trembling upon her down-dropped lashes. + +"And I shall have nothing of you! Not even a picture," hoarsely +murmured Clayton. "I will not be denied. I shall see you again. I +will follow you!" + +He was startled by the ashen pallor of her face. + +"You must not! You dare not!" she cried, in a sudden agitation. "It +would mean our eternal parting! For I will not have my plighted +honor forfeit. Promise me, if you ever hope to see me again, that +you will not follow me!" + +There was the ring of truth in her words, and even the accent of +fear in her appeal. + +Catching at a last straw, Clayton pleaded before the word of +dismissal should fall from her trembling lips. + +"I must see you again," he begged. "I leave all to you, and I swear +to obey you in all things." + +The beautiful woman bowed her head in her hands. + +"See how I trust you," she brightly said, meeting his glance frankly +at last. "Be at the arch in Prospect Park, Brooklyn, next Sunday +at two. + +"If you have a closed carriage we can drive an hour in the park. +If we must say farewell, we can say it then. For even when I met +you first, in that crowded street, I felt that in some strange +freemasonry of Life, we were to be friends." + +A single frightened, warning gesture recalled him to his senses, +as Irma pointed to her nodding companion. "You do not know how +jealous artists are. + +"One single imprudence would be my professional ruin; my career +would be blasted. Trust to me! Obey me; swear that you will not +follow me, and we shall meet again, for I would not lose you from +my life." He took the roses from her bosom and kissed them. + +"Go, now," she whispered, "but only that we may meet again! I have +your promise." + +"Loyal to the death," swore Clayton, as he kissed her trembling +hands and then stole away, leaving her there alone with pallid lips +and a wildly beating heart. + +Clayton had taken up the burden of his unfinished day's business +before the carriage left the "Bavaria," and swiftly traversing +Fourth Avenue, passed along to the Thirty-fourth Street ferry. + +There was but one occupant, however, for Madame Raffoni had silently +disappeared before the diva, heavily veiled, entered the vehicle. + +Clayton wondered at the protracted absence of his office boy, +ignorant that the young double spy was standing before the Restaurant +Bavaria watching Leah Einstein's furtive disappearance. + +And neither the lad, astounded as his mother's unaccustomed finery, +nor the love-blinded Randall Clayton ever knew that "Madame Raffoni" +hastened to Magdal's Pharmacy to whisper to Mr. Fritz Braun tidings +which brought a surging swell of triumph into that arch plotter's +heart. + +"Leah! You are a wonder, after all," was the comment of her old +lover. "Keep this whole matter quiet. Hoodwink them all! And that +pair of diamond ear-rings you dreamed of may fall your way at last!" +The poor cast-off woman swore a blind obedience to her lover once, +her tyrant still. + +The adroit Timmins laughed in his heart when his employer, deliberately +closing his cabinet, left the shop an hour earlier than usual on +this particularly auspicious afternoon. + +Fritz Braun's eyes gleamed viciously behind the blue glass screens +as he sedately boarded his car. "Things are coming my way at last," +he said. "I must not hurry, I must make no mistake, and I must let +that Magyar devil fancy that she is playing this game herself, for +one false step would ruin all." And he vowed to deceive the daring +woman whom he feared to curb. "She shall work my will and not know +the finale in the third act." + +The office doors of the Western Trading Company closing, one by +one, with a resounding clang, awoke Randall Clayton from day dreams +which he dared not break off. + +The office boy had not returned when Clayton, now on guard against +every one in the employ of the Western robber baron, went out into +the crowds pressing homewards. + +He had given up, in a mad impulse, the whole faith of his unspent +life to the woman who had whispered, "Go now, that we may meet +again." + +The thrilling accents of her voice, sweet and low, seemed to vibrate +in his soul, and so, hugging his darling secret to his heart, he +vowed to baffle Worthington's spies. "For her," he murmured, "I +will outwit them all." + +No shade of suspicion rested upon the lovely image dwelling now on +the throne of his heart. For in the matchless beauty of her delicate +face he saw only the royal mint stamp of a noble soul. He had called +her to his side out of all New York's thronging thousands, by the +mute appeal of his lonely, longing eyes. It was Nature's mesmerism. + +And as that grand hailing sign had been answered by Fate's decree, +he was blind to the pathway leading on. For, in his fond conceit, +he only knew Worthington and Ferris as enemies. + +With a restless impatience, he awaited the coming of his office boy +after he had trifled the time away over his dinner at the Imperial. +Leaning back in his chair, he keenly watched the voluble lad, in a +growing wonder, as Einstein triumphantly recalled every detail of +his master's evening movements of the past week. + +"I didn't get on to them well, sir," concluded Emil, "but the last +two nights one or the other of them has kept you in sight all the +while. + +"Daly's, the Imperial, Hammerstein's, the Waldorf, up where you +bought your outing goods, down to Proctor's, up the Boulevard to +the Colonial Club, they piped you off. You see I only got familiar +with them after a few nights. But now I have them dead to rights." + +"And where did they go from there?" growled Clayton. "After they +reported to the old man," irreverently answered Einstein, "they +went together down to the Fidelity Company. I followed them in and +brought away a card. That's all, sir!" + +Randall Clayton paced the floor in silence a few moments. Then, +taking out his pocketbook, he handed the eager youth a hundred-dollar +bill. "Keep this matter all to yourself, Emil," he gravely said. +"I will let you off now for a couple of weeks. Then I will take +you on again and will see if these 'spotters' are still on duty. +I will look out for you, and see you promoted." + +When the boy had departed, Randall Clayton sank back in his chair. +"Whatever happens," he musingly decided, "I will never expose Irma +to the dangers of this espionage. They may have other agents by +day, who knows! And, if I wish to safely meet her, it must be over +there." + +His thought were wandering far away across the black, flowing tide +of the East River, where the Brooklyn Bridge was now traced in line +of living light against the darkness of night. + +Over there, beyond the gloomy river warehouses, with their forests +of masts, across the swiftly rushing tide seeking the unknown sea, +the graceful Queen of his awakened heart was hidden from him. "I +shall find her out; nothing shall part us; she shall hear me yet; +she shall learn to look for my coming, and she shall open the gates +of her home to me. Her heart shall beat against my own." + +For, in all the sweep of a lover's imagination, he only saw her, +at the end of the veiled pathway, with love lighting her softly +shining eyes, and her beloved hand waving him on. + +While he still wandered in a Fool's Paradise, the crafty office boy +was hastening across the great span which hangs its curving arch +from Manhattan to Long Island. + +Einstein was driven on by his gnawing greed of money. "Fritz must +know this at once," he muttered. These business detective fellows +are dangerous, and could easily break up his little game. + +"For if Clayton gets into any trouble, out he goes! There's no +money in him then, and he's no good to Fritz Braun, no more to me. +This news ought to fetch me a couple of twenties if well played." + +It was ten o'clock when Emil Einstein sprang down the stairway of +the eastern terminus of the Brooklyn Bridge. The lad was blithe at +heart as he turned to the left and, passing through the seething +press of the crowds congested under the electric lights of Sands +and Fulton Streets, carefully reconnoitered a gorgeous saloon on +the corner of Layte and Dale Streets. + +Einstein peered in through the two swinging doors of the front, +and then betook himself to the side entrance on Dale Street, where +the "Family Entrance," the private corridor, and one or two halls +admitted him to the restaurant, card rooms and private rooms of the +ground floor of the five-story corner brick building. The youth +recoiled, after a peep through a ground glass door left ajar, at +the glories of the main hall of the famous "Valkyrie" saloon. + +"What am I to do?" he mused, as he lit his cigarette in a dark +doorway outside, parrying the coarse advances of two fleeting Cyprians +with a retort which brought the blood to their cheeks, leaping up +under the plastered rouge. "I've been forbidden to call him out of +192; he and my mother are both now fooling the Duchess; I am playing +a double game with Clayton, and, by Hokey, old Wade's watchful men +may drop on to me. I may lose the best job in New York if these +people get all tangled up. What the devil is going on, anyway?" + +He crossed the street and gazed up at the glaring red pressed-brick +walls of the Valkyrie corner. All the two score of windows on Dale +Street, and the score on Layte Street were closely guarded with +solid shutters of a green hue. + +"God knows what deviltry is going on here," muttered the lad, a coward +at heart. There were fleeting figures of veiled women gliding past +him through the dim entrances, the refluent stream of the Devil's +daughters. + +Down the gloomy side street the blue gleam of the pitiless river +showed light against the somber night, the yellow blinking lights +of the tugs flitting about like corpse candles. + +In the dark shadows of the involved angular corners, thug and ghoul +lurked until midnight should bring them their prey, the careless +roysterer, or the belated prosperous citizen. Out on Layte Street +the flashy throng was still pouring toward the Fulton Ferry. + +"I wonder if I dare," mused the lad, as he walked around the corner +and paused before No. 192 Layte Street. The sober splendor of the +richly decorated old five-story brownstone told of the vanished +glories of the ante-bellum days. + +A stately mansion in whose halls there had been royal cheer in the +departed days when Brooklyn had its proud burghers and New York its +simple citizens of worth. But the pressure of commerce, the havoc +of the bridge construction, the onrush of warehouse, shop, and the +pressure of the street railway octopus had left the sedate mansion +a relic of better days in an incongruous medley of little shops, +doubtful lodging-houses, vile man-traps, and clustering saloons. + +Here the Juggernaut car of King Alcohol was rolling on remorselessly, +crushing out all life save the frenzied dream of the dipsomaniac. + +But the lad paused and shook his head as he noted the windows of +the old English basement tightly barred. The parlor floor, bearing +the gilded sign, "Parisian Millinery Repository," was darkened, and, +above, the three upper floors presented only an array of undraped +windows solidly shut off by white-enamelled inside folding blinds. +The decorous-looking main entrance bore but one card, in script, +"Raffoni, Musical Director." + +For years the neighborhood had forgotten its curiosity over the +foreign-looking men and women who passed the vigilant Cerberus at +the stately oaken door. No daring book-agent, no pedlar of indurated +cheek, no outside barbarian had ever crossed that guarded portal, +for a brass chain of impregnable strength prevented any intrusion, +and only a glimpse of the old tesselated marble floor rewarded the +frightened interloper. + +It was "No Thoroughfare" to the multitude, and the quaint visitors +were either personally conducted or used latch-keys. + +The over-fed policeman sucking his club in front of 192 Layte only +smiled in answer to vague inquiry, "Private house, belongs to old +family estate, people in Europe," and then with a leer would drop +into the "Valkyrie" for a fistful of good cigars and a flask of +the very best. + +The timid young scoundrel lingering before 192 on this fresh, +starry night was the only "outsider" who knew what deadly master +mind controlled the mysteries of the "Valkyrie" saloon and 192 +Layte Street, its sedate neighbor. + +The particular use of the "fake" millinery repository, the hidden +life of the upper floors of the old mansion, were only known to +the man whom Emil Einstein feared to meet in anger. + +But in the Devil's auction of the corner building, man, woman and +child were knocked down to the highest bidder, for the hell-minted +price of human souls. + +Gambler, crook and thief; wanton, decoy and badger; racing tout, +fugitive, smuggler, and counterfeiter; lottery sharp and green-goods +man, all welcomed the white, red and blue lights gleaming over the +"Valkyrie" saloon as the harbor-lights of their safe port in any +storm. + +"I have it," muttered Einstein, as he boldly threw open the swinging +half door of the "Valkyrie." Shading his eyes in the flood of +garish light, he gazed around at the twenty round tables. Six alert +barkeepers lurked in front of the superb mirrors behind the rich +walnut counters gleaming with crystal and silver. + +The music of the Orchestrion bore away on its flood of Strauss +waltzes the shrill chatter of women's laughter in the inside hell +of the private rooms. + +Opening doors admitted fragments of poker gabble as the white-aproned +waiters rushed around with their trays of drinks. + +With artful geography of arrangement, gaudy women from the side +street, at tables, were parading their too evident charms before +the crowd of clerks, men about town, warrant officers, railroad +employees, old roués, sporting men and belated "slummers" who leered +at every arrival of "fresh fish." + +Young Einstein, scribbling the single word "Emil" on a card, approached +the parchment-faced German lad who sat in state, manipulating the +bewildering keys of the "Cash Register." + +"Send this to the boss at once," said Einstein in a low voice. + +"You can't see him," contemptuously announced the insolent +Jack-in-office, tossing back the card. He scented a possible +successor in this vulpine-looking young stranger. But Einstein +resolutely came back to the charge. "It's his business, and he'll +jerk you out of your job if you throw me down. I will not stir a +step till I see him. Send it up." + +And Emil made a significant gesture with a defiant thumb. + +Audacity carried the day! Young Einstein, coolly purchasing +a Regalia and seating himself at a table, grinned a last defiance +as a "Kellner" finally touched his arm and led him into a vacant +card-room. + +Down a stairway came the sounding tread of a heavy man, and Einstein +was in the presence of Mr. Fritz Braun. + +"It's about him, Clayton," faltered the boy, awed at his employer's +lowering face. + +"Come with me," harshly said Braun, as he led the lad up to the +third floor. When they had entered a rear sleeping-room, Braun +locked the door. "Tell me all," he anxiously cried. "Out with it. +If you lie you'll never leave this house, remember!" + +With chattering teeth, the lad delivered himself of his discovery. +It was only after half an hour of cross questioning that Braun was +satisfied with the details of Robert Wade's espionage of Randall +Clayton. "You've done well, for yourself," said Braun, at last, +handing the boy a roll of bills. "But never come here again. I'll +give you an address to-morrow where you can call, telephone or +telegraph, and a name. Post me on all. Keep this from your mother. +I'll handle her myself. Now, by day you can slip over to the store, +by night use the new address. Get home now. Go over the ferry." +He filled the boy's hand with loose silver. "I'll stay here. Speak +to no one. Get out quickly by the side door." + +Emil Einstein was safely across the Fulton Ferry before he had +realized the startling change in Fritz Braun's appearance. The flowing +golden beard, the blue glasses, the padded clothes of middle-age +cut were gone. Fritz Braun, lithe, sharp-faced, with piercing eyes, +a dashing cavalry mustache, and dapper Wall Street tailoring, was +twenty years younger, and another man. + +His diamond jewels, rakish air and "loose fish" manner bespoke the +flush book-maker or the flashy "boss." + +"Here's for a night on the Bowery," gleefully cried Einstein, +counting his Judas gains, while he tried to forget Fritz Braun's +lightning change. + +That dapper gentleman, stepping into a closet, passed swiftly +through the door from the Valkyrie into 192 Layte Street. His +hidden pool-room, gambling den and exchange for soul and body was +temporarily forgotten by "Mr. August Meyer," owner of the peerless +"Valkyrie Saloon." + +"I'll get a carriage and drive over to Irma," he growled. "She must +never cross the river again. We must lead him over here; but how? +Perhaps the pretty devil can help me. I must throw Wade off the +track. Irma can fool this young greenhorn. The job must be done +over there. For a fortune, for his life or mine; and he must be +teased along till the July holidays." + +Then Mr. August Meyer of Brooklyn proceeded to leisurely array +himself as a clubman of fashion. + + + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +BREAKERS AHEAD! CHECKMATE! MR. ARTHUR FERRIS WORKS IN THE DARK. + + + + + +Randall Clayton was an enigma in his altered personal bearing +to his old confrères when he entered the manager's office at his +summons on a balmy afternoon of the dying days of June. + +The two months since Jack Witherspoon's departure had changed the +frank young fellow into a taciturn man of feline secretiveness. The +discovery of Worthington's treachery, the knowledge of the dogging +spies at his heels, had been a suddenly transforming influence. He +now ardently burned for the return of his one confidant, for the +annual election was but a few days distant. + +The ripening summer was coming on fast. On Fifth Avenue the delicate, +haughty-faced young Princesses of Mammon now bore the June blush +roses in their slender pitiless hands. The annual hegira pleasureward +was beginning. + +And as yet only Randall Clayton's burning eyes marked the conflict +raging in his soul. But he longed to leap into the open, and boldly +defy Worthington. For a new purpose had stolen upon him in these +weeks--the sudden desire for wealth. + +He craved money for but one object--to cast it at the feet of +Irma Gluyas and then to bear her away from a world of lies to the +storied Danube, where woman's rosy lip rests in clinging transports +upon lips speaking the wild love of the gallant Magyar land. He +now knew the power of wealth. Clayton had become as secretive as +the young Pawnee on his first warpath. He was now watching the +enemy's camp and awaiting the moves of both the guilty employer +and false friend. + +Through the still subsidized Einstein he knew that the bootless +espionage upon his leisure hours had been given up at last. He had +baffled his enemies. + +It had not been done by fear of the clumsy artifices of Robert +Wade, but a desire born of his overmastering love for Irma, to +guard her every footstep. His heart melted in its memories of that +crowning hour of the avowal of his love, when she had whispered, +"I dare not take you to my home! Wait, Randall, wait, and trust +all to me." + +Two months past had seen him plunging deeper into the mad love, +more blindly, every day, sinking into the hungry passion, waxing +into a fond delirium, under the artful orders of a veiled Mokanna. +"You must lead him on, far as you can; make him forget everything +in the world but yourself; promise him all, and grant him nothing." + +A thousand plans had been revolved by Clayton for the future, but +the delicious thralldom of his love drew him to Irma Gluyas as the +moon draws the sea. + +It had been his own jealous lover heart which bade her meet him in +all distant places, but to always shun the city with Wade's baffled +spies still on the watch. + +For once, the orders of the double traitor Einstein were identical, +as neither the artful Braun nor the anxious lover cared to risk +the dangers of Irma's face meeting the gaze of the watchful Wade. + +In a guarded silence the young cashier awaited Mr. Robert Wade's +official action on this June afternoon. He was only vaguely +aware by rumor that Hugh Worthington and Miss Alice still lingered +somewhere on the Pacific Coast. + +There had been no further word from Arthur Ferris, and the +all-important election was but a week distant now. Clayton keenly +watched the solemn-faced manager as he drew out some papers from +a bulky envelope. There was but one phase in his now double life +of which Clayton naturally feared the exposure. + +Warned by Witherspoon, Clayton had watched the steady rise of the +Western Trading Company's stock, week by week, during the absence +of the arbiter of its destinies. His veins were filled with the +tide of a new-born passion. + +Clayton had boldly risked all his savings in the margining of +large blocks of the stock, dealing constantly through a Wall Street +friend. + +Three times he had fortunately turned over his capital since +Witherspoon had unveiled the scheme to draw in a majority of the +shares, and he was now sixteen thousand dollars to the good. Even +after lavishing a goodly part of his gains upon the mysterious +diva, in every fantastic way possible, in their stealthy meetings, +Clayton still had pyramided his capital and now was sure of another +harvest. And he only wondered at the reluctance with which the +lovely Hungarian accepted the jewels thrust upon her. + +"I will sell out the day before the election," mused Clayton, as +he awaited the manager's slow mental processes. "Then I can even +stand a discharge," he defiantly thought. + +The young man's face paled suddenly as Wade handed him a telegram +addressed in the care of the manager. "When you have carefully read +this," said Wade, "I will give you Mr. Worthington's own ideas, +from his confidential instructions to me." + +Conscious that he was now environed in the house of his enemies, +Randall Clayton sat for some time there, silently pondering the +suddenness of a proposal which affected his whole future career. + +"You are wanted as general superintendent of all of our Western +ranches. Headquarters at Cheyenne. Please telegraph acceptance, +and meet Ferris at Cheyenne in four days. He leaves to-day. Answer. +Wade has my full instructions." + +The blood surged back to Randall Clayton's heart in a defiant flood. +"They know nothing; but I'll hear him out." + +It was twenty minutes before the manager had finished the explanation +of the measure proposed and had dilated upon the advance of salary, +the future prospects, and all the ultimate benefits of the parties +to this autocratically suggested change. "He has been secretly +coached up by Ferris," thought the suspicious Clayton. But he gave +no sign of his secret distrust. + +"Of course," purringly remarked Robert Wade, "it is a little sudden; +but I am authorized to make you a half year's salary allowance for +first expenses and outfit, and so you can easily get away to-morrow +night. That will bring you out to Cheyenne in time to meet Ferris, +and then get your instructions. He is coming on to look at the annual +accounts and give Mr. Worthington's views as to your successor." + +Wade pushed over a telegraph blank. "Just write out your telegram, +and I will send it on at once. You will accept, of course." + +Randall Clayton had schooled himself since Jack Witherspoon's +departure in every defensive measure against the secret plotters. +And so his voice was suave and measured as he simply said, "I think, +Mr. Wade, that I shall have to regretfully decline this promotion. +I am perfectly well satisfied as I am. I know nothing of the details +of our great Western business. I have forgotten the frontier now." + +The lines in Wade's face hardened. "Is that your only reason? You +will soon pick up the technique!" + +Clayton stood the fire of the vulpine gray eyes without a quiver. +Jack Witherspoon's warning injunctions returned to his mind. "Look +out, my boy, that they don't get you sidetracked in some lonely +place. They would kill you like a rat if our design to uncover +the past was ever discovered." + +Clayton but too well knew how easily a man could be lost forever out +in the Black Hills, or along the lonely Platte. "It is their grand +final move before bringing out Ferris as the new-made capitalist. +My life would not be worth a pin-head. And Witherspoon would be +far away out of reach. Irma lost to me forever!" + +The jealous lover could almost see the crowded opera-house and +hear that now familiar witching voice. He knew that men would +bow before her beauty; that flowers, jewels, flattery and fortune +would be showered upon her. The hungry "upper ten" pine for new +victims with unsatisfied maw. He had already dedicated his coming +fortune to her; she should be his heart-queen, and together they +would go back and buy the old family castle, whose legends had +fallen from her lips in the stolen hours of the long love trysts +of the last two months. + +"I cannot accept this flattering offer, Mr. Wade," resolutely said +the young man, who now saw a steely anger in the manager's eyes. +"I have given the flower of my youth to Mr. Worthington's service; +but this is a total change, a sudden break-up of all my private +plans. I beg that you will at once telegraph him my respectful +declination." + +Clayton rose with a look on his face which completed Wade's thorough +annoyance. "Stop, sir; stop! Think before you throw away all your +chances in life! You can have a whole day to think this over. Would +you forfeit Mr. Worthington's regard and so lose your place?" + +There was a strident anger in the manager's harsh voice. But Clayton, +realizing that he had even till now not been able to gain Irma's +pictured face, looked forward to the heart-wreck of this enforced +absence. "If I am to be cast out like a dog after my faithful +service, then you must do it, sir," gravely said Clayton, Witherspoon's +warnings returning to stiffen his resolution. "Why not await Mr. +Ferris' arrival? I may be able to reach Mr. Worthington's second +thoughts through him." The agent of the two far off conspirators +lost his self-control at last. + +"I'll await nothing," roared Robert Wade. "That will do, sir!" And +as the defiant Clayton retired, the manager rang for a telegraph +boy. + +"I have given them checkmate," mused Clayton, as he snapped his +door behind him. "Their plans probably included making away with +me, out West, after Ferris has done his work and returns to openly +claim Alice's hand. It is a fight for my life now. I must reach +Irma at once. I must tell her all." + +Suddenly he thought of the future. His heart sickened. "Wade will +undoubtedly recommend my discharge. If Jack fails me, I am then +to be cast out in the streets, and the influence of the Trust will +surely keep me from holding any other position longer than they +can find out where to reach me." + +He absently broke the seals of a couple of letters dropped on his +desk in his brief absence. + +He sprang up, a new man, as he read Jack Witherspoon's few words. +The missive was dated from Paris. It bore in its light-hearted +chatter a few words which sealed his fate in life. + +"Am coming home at once. Will be with you in ten days. Let nothing +prevent our meeting in New York. Will act instantly in your matter. +Have had private news. They were secretly married a month ago at +Tacoma. Be on your guard!" + +Seizing his hat, Randall Clayton hurried away to the nearest +telegraph office, where he felt safe from Robert Wade's spies. + +"Thank God for Irma's wit," he said, in his heart, as he sent the +veiled words which would bring her to that quiet hotel on Staten +Island, where, among Richmond's leafy bowers, they now defied all +possible detection. It had been her own plan. The long weeks of +Clayton's complete self-surrender had brought about no forward step +in Irma Gluyas' intimacy. + +The still silent Madame Raffoni was the careful guardian of the +veiled beauty, and Clayton, loyal to a frenzy of romantic faith, +had never broken his promise. + +For he lived only now in Irma's whispered promise, "Wait, and trust +to me. You shall come to me as soon as I can break my bonds. It +shall be then you and I, for the rest of our days, if Love still +holds the helm." + +It was long after midnight when the defiant lover returned to his +apartment. The Magyar witch had finally learned the last secret +of his honest heart, and with clinging arms had whispered through +her kisses, "If you leave me, Randall, it is the death of our love." +And, trusting blindly to his honest love, Clayton wagered his life +upon a woman's faith. + +Under the door of his room lay a yellow envelope, and as the now +resolute man read it he smiled grimly. "Victory!" he cried, for +Ferris' words assured him of a coming triumph, a crown of life and +love. It seemed that Irma's love had conquered after all. + +"Await me in New York. I think that we can arrange all for your +remaining as you are." The signature was that of the artful Ferris. +"And I think that Jack and I can handle you, my false friend!" +sneered Clayton. + +While the young lover read the words which gave him a new hope, far +across the Brooklyn Bridge, Mr. Fritz Braun, in his own private +lair, was pondering over the words of Madame Raffoni, who had just +left the man who was the iron tyrant of her soiled life. + +"I must give him a little more line! And I must either land the +fish now or lose him forever." + +There was a steely gleam in the sleepless eyes of him who pondered +upon his clouded pathway. "It must be done! And she must help in +some way. She holds the winning cards now. Nothing else will draw +him!" + +The masquerading criminal was almost desperate. It had been his +by-play for years to p|ay at hide and seek with humanity, using his +duplex characters at first to throw off any pursuit of the Vienna +police; and, later, to hide his nefarious operations on the New +York side. + +Greedy for money, before Irma Gluyas had been driven to his arms by +adverse fortunes, Fritz Braun had at first made his refuge at the +"Valkyrie," then owned by Ludwig Sohmer, whose passion for "playing +the races" had at last dragged him down. + +The Viennese fugitive diligently plied his erstwhile patron with +drink and smilingly enmeshed the brutish peasant-bred Sohmer in a +series of compounded loans. + +It was not long until all the employees recognized in the alert +"August Meyer" the mainstay of the decaying fortunes of the half +bankrupt Sohmer. + +Every evening, without fail, the sharp commands of Fritz Braun +were now conveyed to the responsible underlings! Sohmer, staggering +homeward with his greedy Aspasias from the Waterloo conflicts of +the race-track, sullenly assented at last to the chattel mortgages +and bills of sale which placed the "Valkyrie" and the whole building +under August Meyer's name. Then, taking the downward road, Sohmer +tried to drown himself in drink, and succeeded. + +When Sohmer was found dead in his bed, the millionaire brewer who +backed the "Valkyrie," and the owner of the ground on which the +building erected by Sohmer stood, gladly took on the active August +Meyer in loco the departed Sohmer. + +The solidity of the new tenant's finances was vouched for by the +agents of the old estate from whom Fritz Braun had already leased +192 Layte Street, in his Brooklyn name of "August Meyer." + +Strange to say, the keen-eyed officials of the German Consulate-General +had issued to the acute pharmacist a regular passport, upon the +military and family papers of Braun's poor soldier drudge at the +Magdal Pharmacy. + +It had been an exchange acceptable to both parties: an ocean +of drink, a weekly pittance of food and raiment, for the valuable +attested documents which gave the disguised Viennese fugitive the +right to boldly claim the Kaiser's official protection as "August +Meyer." It was the very citadel of Braun's rising fortunes! + +And so, with Sohmer soundly sleeping, whether well or illy, "after +life's fitful fever," the foxy Viennese rejoiced in his assigned +ground-lease, Sohmer's business, and the gold mine of the hidden +pool-room, gambling den and disguised harem of No. 192 Layte Street. + +Fritz Braun had allowed a few months to pass before he secretly +opened the party walls between the two buildings to allow his +choicest patrons to enter No. 192 Layte Street all unobserved; but, +for reasons of his own, he had made one or two private alterations +in the two buildings which enabled him to enter the different floors +by his own judiciously veiled private entrances. + +The cellar of No. 192 Layte Street had been piped for cold-storage +of the wines and beer of the "Valkyrie" under Fritz Braun's own +supervision when he gave up the basement of the "Valkyrie" to the +kitchens of the restaurant, which drew the attractive women of the +quarter into the safest possible association with their victims +crowding the "Valkyrie" saloon. + +A vigilant business man, August Meyer came each evening to settle +the days' affairs and personally watch the money mill next door, +which ran noiselessly on golden wheels from nine o'clock till +midnight. + +No one had Meyer's confidence; he left no tell-tale papers to connect +him with the gruff pharmacist of Sixth Avenue, and at midnight he +always vanished to his own private home, a diligently guarded terra +incognita to all men. + +A sphinx-like "Oberkellner" received the orders of the proprietor +each evening; a steward of equal taciturnity "ran" the restaurant, +and August Meyer himself, with autocratic power, directed the +villainous operations of No. 192 Layte Street. + +Popular with the police, exact in his monthly settlements with the +ground landlords and the despotic brewery king, Fritz Braun avoided +both the failings which had wrecked the golden fortunes of the dead +Sohmer. + +But, alas! no man is equally strong against all temptations. Deaf +to woman's wail; brutal and heartless; too fearful of his past +record to give himself up to the bowl, Fritz Braun, blasé and tired +of every side of human life, had drifted easily into the desperate +craze of the insatiate gambler. + +It was months after he had found No. 192 Layte Street to be +a never-failing mint, when Braun became fascinated with the whirr +of the roulette ball, the varying chances of the faro box, and, at +last, the fine peculiarities of "unlimited poker" swept away his +once callous prudence. + +Night after night, in the grim quartette of a ruinously high game, +August Meyer "held his hand" recklessly, while a street railroad +magnate, a millionaire importer, and a reigning politician swept +away the revenues of the "Valkyrie." He was rolling the stone of +Sysiphus up hill now. He had forged his own ruin. + +Alone in the world, a desperate Ishmael, Fritz Braun needed the +secret protection of these powerful plutocrats. Silently he had +suffered his huge losses, waiting for the luck to turn, and now, on +the eve of his great coup of criminal sagacity, he awoke at last +to his own imperiled fortunes, and yet he feared to own that he +dared not cease gambling, that he could not "throw up his hand." + +And, by one of the fantastic turns of luck which haunt even +the safest "dealing" games, he had seen the tide of Fortune turn +viciously against his banking dealers several times. The "bank" +had been broken at several of his tables until he had hypothecated +all his reserve securities. Ruin stared him in the face, for it +had come at last. + +Possessed of his regular passport, safe now in any voyage in Germany, +the Low Countries, Denmark, Norway, Sweden, in Russia, Fritz Braun +had long desired to break off his slavery to the "painted ladies" +of the cards. + +He had always kept some jewels of great value with him as a final +reserve, and a nest-egg of a few thousands deposited in a Frankfort +banking-house, with whose New York agents he had effected many +clearings of considerable size. + +Fate was now swiftly sweeping him along, he knew not whither, and +on this night of discontent he bitterly calculated the chances of +a stormy future. + +"Ten thousand dollars only left, and whatever more my jewels will +bring," he growled. "I am safe enough, though. Timmins can run the +pharmacy, and the brewery will put an agent in here if I say that +I need a few months' rest abroad." + +"But there's Irma to be got rid of! If she does not help me to +this one crowning stroke of luck, then I've either got to put her +out of the way or take her with me. She knows my one dangerous +secret." + +A busy devil in his heart whispered an excellent suggestion. He +grinned in self-satisfied malignity. "Yes! That's the trick! If I +win we'll take a Hoboken steamer together. Any one of our smuggling +stewards and agents over there will take care of us on the way +over. + +"If I lose, she must go with me; and there are a few lonely lakes +in Norway, a few deep fiords with leaping waterfalls. I might lose +her there, and only that coward Lilienthal would perhaps suspect. +He would have to keep his mouth shut, for he has his own tracks +to cover, and he would easily believe that the pretty jade has run +off and left me. And he fears publicity. + +"As for Leah, she loves me blindly, with a dog's fidelity; her boy +will be true to his dam and drift on in silence--a sharp scoundrel! +The world is an easy oyster for him to open. + +"If--if I lose Irma, I'll have Leah over there with me. My passport +as August Meyer makes me invincible." + +And the scheming villain threw himself down to dream of a stroke of +luck which should make him safe in Northern Europe, in the assumed +character of "August Meyer," a second self which fitted him like a +Guardsman's uniform. "I can easily play off a long sickness, turn +over the leases, and the brewer will run the 'Valkyrie.' My one +hope and fear is Irma. If she pulls this off I'll fix her; yes, +I'll fix her!" + +He drifted away into a land of dreams, a far-off land, where, +under the black shadows of the Norway firs, he could see the gleam +of white hands thrown up despairingly in the icy waters. It was a +fiend's prophecy of a nameless horror to come. + +When Randall Clayton noticed the returning suavity of Manager Robert +Wade's demeanor on the days ensuing the abortive attempt to lure +the young cashier out West, he vowed to redouble his own crafty +policy of secret resistance. It all seemed so clear to him now. +"Wade and Ferris wish to conceal the marriage until the election +is over. I would be exposed, perhaps even here, to their deadly +resentment if I openly rebelled. + +"But once that Jack Witherspoon is back, and Ferris anchored here, +Jack can go on and face old Worthington. I will affect ignorance, +and then a brief campaign of victory will put Irma in my arms." + +Startled by Einstein's revelations, Randall Clayton had carefully +removed every scrap of his private papers from his apartments, and +his little fortune, his stocks and personal archives, were all safe +in a down-town Safe Deposit. + +The address and all the details of the Trust were lying in a sealed +envelope in the safe of Jack Witherspoon's club, in Detroit, awaiting +that legal champion's return. + +And so, his heart thrilled with the fear of losing the Hungarian +singer, Randall Clayton made friends with all in the office until +his friend and enemy should pass each other in New York City. + +The business and social atmosphere had visibly cleared before the +day of the annual election came on. + +Clayton's eyes were now fixed only on his friend Witherspoon, +whose steamer was now picking him up at Boulogne. The approach of +the Fourth of July, with a triple holiday--Saturday, Sunday and +Monday--caused Clayton to toil, early and late, in the vast annual +settlements of the end of the fiscal year. It was upon the basis +of the settlement of June 30th that the reports of July 1st, the +annual election, were to be made. + +But one thought now filled Clayton's agitated heart. + +It was Irma Gluyas' future. Her resolute policy of holding him off +had inflamed Clayton's lover ardor to an overmastering passion. + +Gallant and loyal, he had taken her at her own word. The unconventional +artist life, her romantic early history, her foreign birth, her +carefully veiled coming début, all this conspired to cover the +singular reticence of the diva as to her home life. + +He never had demanded her whole heart confidence, for he had been +forced to veil from her his hopes of winning a fortune by one fell +swoop upon the astounded Worthington. + +"And then," murmured the passionate, heated lover, "I can tell her +all. I can give her a home, the power of wealth to set my jewel +off, and there shall be nothing hidden between us." + +From first to last he had concealed nothing from her, save the +mechanism of the short, sharp struggle which was to make him almost +a millionaire, if Jack Witherspoon's bold plan succeeded. + +It had been for her sake as well as his own that the veiled star, +Irma Gluyas, had laughingly searched the map of New York and vicinity +to find places of safe meeting. + +To avoid Robert Wade's spies, to preserve Irma's incognito, they +had exhausted the "lions" of every Long Island, Staten Island, +and New Jersey village. They had canvassed every place of resort +within fifty miles of New York City. + +With a dumb fidelity Madame Raffoni had accompanied her beautiful +charge. There was a wholesome innocence in these strangely arranged +stolen interviews. + +Clayton often searched that lovely face to read what malign influence +kept her from opening her whole life to him. + +But it all seemed so clear. Her wild artist nature yearned for the +honors of a world's applause; it was agreed between them that, be +it opera season or concert tour, that, once success was achieved, +the eclipse of Love should hide her from the eager moths who flutter +around the risen star. + +"She trusts me; I have not told her all. When I can give her +my whole life and a fortune," thought Clayton, "then I shall say, +'Irma, open the sealed books. There must be nothing hidden between +us.'" + +With a serene confidence in Madame Raffoni, Randall Clayton always +came home alone and by circuitous routes, artfully varied, from +these strange trysts. + +This stolen time seemed all too short to speak of their future, +gilded by a love which thrived strangely in the difficulties +besetting the strangely-met couple. + +Clayton's mind was unclouded by suspicion. He had given his whole +destiny over to the keeping of the small blue-veined hands, which +lingered so lovingly on his heated brow. His watchfulness was only +turned upon Robert Wade's disgruntled spies. + +From the heavily subsidized Einstein, Clayton gleefully learned that +the weekly "report" of one or the other of the Fidelity Company's +men consisted of a morose shake of the head and the single word, +"Nothing!" + +The cashier laughed at Emil's report of Wade's accidentally overheard +angry growl, "Where the devil does he keep himself, any way?" + +For Love had taught Clayton a strange, new craft, and he easily +outwitted the two brutes who always came to "report" during his +bank absences, and had vainly rifled his deserted rooms during his +long Sunday and evening absences. + +There was no tell-tale clue in the lonely apartment, where the dust +of many long weeks had gathered in Arthur Ferris' vacant rooms. + +Unable to absent himself on the near approach of the great annual +settlement, driven at last to extremity, Randall Clayton arranged +his last meeting with Irma, before the return of Ferris and +Witherspoon, at Manhattan Beach. + +For the summer boats were already running, and, on the broad piazzas +of the Oriental they could safely meet. + +It was so easy for Madame Raffoni to pilot the incognito diva by +the railway to the Manhattan Hotel. A double veil and a judiciously +fringed sunshade would make Irma Gluyas impregnable to the flaneur. + +"Alas! The days of Aranjuez are over," sighed Clayton, for this +tryst of Thursday was to be followed by the election on Friday. + +As yet Arthur Ferris had given no sign of his impending arrival. +Some gloomy foreboding weighed down Randall Clayton's soul with a +fear of coming disaster. He felt how powerless he was in the hands +of the cruel conspirators who had robbed him of his fortune. + +He never doubted that Senator Durham and the treacherous Ferris +both possessed Hugh Worthington's dastardly secret, and that they +all stood ready to crush him. + +The innocent four-line advertisement of the annual election had +been duly inserted in the obscure corners of certain fourth-class +journals, "as required by law." + +There was an oily grin upon Robert Wade's self-satisfied face, +and, with no single word from Worthington or Ferris, Clayton felt +the toils closing around him. He was left out of the game--a mere +poor pawn. + +It was on the night before his five-o'clock tryst at the Manhattan, +when Clayton suddenly sprang from his chair. "By God! I have it!" he +cried. "Old Wade has failed to trap me. Ferris, the smug scoundrel, +will glide back here and try to steal into my intimacy. He can post +his slyly posted spies. I cannot then keep him off. And he will +reiterate Worthington's plans, cling to me, and run me to earth. He +will take up his Judas trade, and either trap me or else, baffled, +will telegraph Worthington and have me discharged. Why has +he concealed this secret marriage? And, damnation! I cannot ever +meet Jack Witherspoon in private without giving myself away. I must +have some one meet Witherspoon at the steamer and arrange for one +meeting out of town. He must go over to Philadelphia and await me. +I can take an evening train over, and be back here, even if Ferris +hangs on my track. I will go out alone, as if to the theater, and +then turn up belated. Ferris must not know. It is for my life, for +Irma, and for my fortune that I struggle now. My God! Whom can I +trust now, and they have poisoned Alice's mind against me. I see +their damned villainy. Poor Little Sister! Another man's wife now. +She will never know." + +In his lover's second sight Randall Clayton had really stumbled +on the artful measure by which the old Croesus had deliberately +shifted Alice Worthington's love for her old-time playmate. + +Over his gold-bowed spectacles, Hugh Worthington, the "surviving +partner," had sadly read aloud the details of Randall Clayton's +"New York career." "Forget him, Alice," the old man sternly said. +"He has fallen on evil ways." "And yet you still keep him in your +employ, father?" answered the clear-eyed girl, her wondering glances +gleaming out under a brow of truth. + +"Yes, yes!" harshly said the startled old miser. "But it must soon +come to an end. I have delayed the inevitable. But he must go. You +are right; he must go." + +And with this colloquy by the far Pacific, the old man dropped +Randall Clayton's soiled memory, while the despoiled heir had turned +at bay to fight for his own. + +While Randall Clayton paced his lonely rooms in Manhattan, gazing +sadly on the glowing Danube scene, there was a woman seated in +a shaded corner of the old library of the lonely mansion on Layte +Street. The second drawing-room and library on the ground floor +were a dream of luxury. It had once pleased Mr. Fritz Braun to make +them worthy of a Sultana. + +And he stood there now, regarding the graceful figure of one whose +head was hidden in her hands. + +The diamonds on the adventurer's bosom flashed fitfully in the +yellow gaslight, as he slowly said, "And now you know all your +part. Will you play it?" + +Irma Gluyas sprang to her feet and clutched his arms with a +despairing clasp. "Swear to me that no harm shall come to him!" + +Fritz Braun growled an assent. "Not a hand shall be laid on him. I +swear it!" And then, through falling tears, the Magyar witch gave +her word to do her master's bidding. She had glided from the room +before the man started, as the street door clashed and the roll +of wheels was heard. He poured out a draught of brandy and threw +himself into a chair. "One week more and I would be too late. I +must hoodwink her!" + + + + + + +BOOK II. + +AN INSIDE RING. + + + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +DREAMING BY THE SEA. + + + + + +Five o'clock on Thursday afternoon found Mr. Randall Clayton +hovering around the grounds of the more democratic Hotel Manhattan, +while the early birds of fashion sought the more pretentious splendor +of the Oriental. + +There was an anxious look upon the young man's face, and deep hollows +under his eyes told of unaccustomed vigils. A couple of wandering +peris gazed wishfully at the hand bundle carefully enveloped in +silvery tissue paper. It was true that dark blue Russian violets, +the starry forget-me-not, and the peerless lilies of the valley were +therein hidden, but a keener emotion than expectant love shone in +the young man's haggard eyes. + +He was anxiously gazing around for the now well known form of Madame +Raffoni. Clayton dared not exhibit himself before the couple of +hundred staring eyes upon the pavilion and broad porticos. + +An unknown fear of being entrapped drove him restlessly about. + +"Would to God that Jack Witherspoon had arrived!" muttered the +lover. "I may have the trap sprung on me at any moment. Another +week; a long, long week! And God knows what may not happen in that +time." Some burning fever gnawed at his unquiet heart, some veiled +danger weighed him down. + +Clayton was waiting for the approach of the wife of that mysterious +musical director whom he had never seen. + +A fortunate sort of lingua Franca had been patched up between the +unsuspicious Clayton and the dark-eyed duenna. A few words of +German, a little scattered French, and a bit of gibberish English +enabled the two to hold occasional brief and amiable intercourse. + +"What language does she really speak?" often cried the baffled +Clayton to the mocking Irma. + +"Only pure Czech, my comrade," laughed the diva. "And I will teach +you the softest language of Love myself when we wander back into +the blue Bohemian mountains to proud old Georgsburg. My father was +a Magyar, my mother," she softly said, "a Czech princess." + +While Clayton moved around, cautiously exhibiting himself as agreed +upon, his mind was agitated with a hundred unknown fears. He knew +not the designs of his panther-footed enemies. + +To his astonishment, Robert Wade was absent the whole last business +day of the year from the Western Trading Company's offices, and +this, too, when every pen was busied up to five o'clock. + +And, the momentous election was to occur in the morning! + +He had lingered with his own annual summary until three o'clock, +when the dejected face of Somers, the head accountant, had appeared +at his office door. "I have a telegram that Mr. Wade is sick in +his bed. I am to take the consolidated accounts up to him to-night." + +And so Randall Clayton handed over his papers without a word. "It +will probably be the last account I will ever render here," he +savagely mused, as he clashed his roll-top desk. "I wish that I had +broken it all off when Wade brought on the half quarrel. I should +have taken a friend with me, drawn out my little hoard, gone West +and faced Worthington before he successfully works this infamous +deal. + +"Now I am powerless. He may tell us both to go to the devil." + +And then Clayton sadly remembered that he depended only on Jack +Witherspoon's mere hearsay for any proofs of wrong-doing. "Yes! +I've only Jack's eagerness to marry that dainty Francine Delacroix +to thank for my fortune--if I ever get it. A woman whom I never +have seen decides my whole destiny, while I would give my life up, +my last drop of blood, for Irma!" + +Ah! All unknown to him, a dozen busy minds were weaving snares for +his wandering feet. While Clayton, at last, saw Madame Raffoni +cautiously approaching, in his superb Fifth Avenue residence, the +sick man, Robert Wade, was closeted with the wolfish-eyed Arthur +Ferris, the parchment-faced Somers, and four of the seven directors +of the Trading Company. + +On guard, lingering around Clayton's apartment, two mercantile +agent's spies were waiting to pipe him off and report his every +movement secretly to the returned Ferris, now breathless with +anxiety for the greatest financial coup of the season. + +Mr. Fritz Braun was artfully busied at Magdal's Pharmacy with giving +Timmins a few last directions, and with the quiet destruction of +a few necessary professional memoranda which he did not care to +leave behind as dangerous weapons in the hands of the law or any +thieving clerk. + +In the pocket of Mr. Fritz Braun's well-known brown overcoat +now reposed a bulky envelope, with a passport for Mr. and Mrs. +August Meyer, his Frankfort bank exchange, and several letters of +introduction to responsible merchants in Upper Germany. He was, at +least, armed for flight, and fortified beyond all attack. + +Ben Timmins looked forward, with delight, to a six-months' suzerainty +of his master's drug business. "I have given Mr. Lilienthal my power +of attorney," said Braun soberly, and I figure that you should +turn him in at least two hundred dollars a week profit, and also +keep the stock up. He will look in once or twice a week. If you +need help, he will get you a man. If you don't do your duty, he +will promptly kick you out." + +"Thank you, sir," submissively remarked Timmins, who felt sure of +declaring himself an equal cash dividend every week. + +"Now remember," said Braun, "I am going over to see Lilienthal. If +any one asks for me, I have gone over the water, that's all. + +"For how long, is nobody's business, and you can refer all inquiries +to Lilienthal direct. All that you have to do is to mind your +business and mine. Lilienthal will let you know when I am coming +back, and advise you." + +The two lovers had met, far away at Manhattan Beach, after Madame +Raffoni had discreetly piloted Clayton over to a sandy hollow where +a half-burned spar gave a convenient resting-place, before Fritz +Braun and Lilienthal had finished an acrimonious settlement of +some private money matters. + +"I'm not a wolf," growled Braun. "You square up as if you were +never going to see me again. You need me more than I need you." + +They were in the safe seclusion of the "Private Room" of the Newport +Art Gallery, judiciously vacated for the occasion, when a strange +fear took possession of the sly pleasure pander, Mr. Adolph +Lilienthal. + +"See here, Braun," he huskily said, a mean suspicion seizing upon +him, "You're not cutting stick for good! You're not going to 'blow +on me' and 'give me away!' By God! I believe it," he said in fright, +as he noted Braun's pale face. + +"It's two months since I've seen Irma Gluyas. Damn you! You've sent +her over to the other side, and got all your papers safe! You've +turned revenue spy! I see your game!" + +Before the words were out of his mouth, Braun had dragged the +venal scoundrel down in a strangler's grip. Planting his knee on +his chest, he hissed, "One more word and I'll throttle you here! +I can go out by the side entrance! You dare not scream! You fool! +Don't you know Irma, the pretty baggage, cleared out six weeks ago +with a New York millionaire whom she picked up?" + +"Swear to me that you'll keep your mouth shut or I'll go out and +denounce you now. I have nothing to lose. You have. You have robbed +me in our past dealings. You are rich and I am poor. I am going to +follow that woman over the world till I find her, for I loved her. +That's all! Swear that you'll keep my secrets or I'll kill you now. +I've burned every paper I have in the world." + +When Braun's desperate mood had passed, he allowed the pleading +man to rise, and then listened morosely as Lilienthal, the veriest +coward at heart, begged for a reconciliation. "I didn't know of +your trouble," gasped Lilienthal. "See here, if you'll go on to +Hamburg and Bremen and fix up that 'phenacetine' business for me, +I'll advance you five thousand dollars now. I didn't know you were +so hard up." He whispered an address in the victorious druggist's +ear. + +The half-crazed gamester felt that he had gone too far, and in half +an hour he departed richer by a cheque for five thousand dollars. + +But his mind was far away on Manhattan Beach, with the wandering +lovers, as he told Lilienthal that he should not call again. "I'll +jump on the first steamer I can catch! Timmins knows all. Just +watch him, and don't put yourself in his power, till I return. He +can run the shop to a good profit in 'dope' and drinks till I am +with you again. I'm damned near crazy at losing that woman." And +the cowardly Lilienthal believed his rugged master. + +When he had stalked away through the snaplock-guarded private entrance, +there came over Lilienthal's face a spasm of deadly hatred. "The +dirty dog!" he growled, as he unlocked a cabinet and drank heavily. +"It must be true. This young fellow Clayton is here on duty every +day; he looks wolfish, too. I wonder if he really loved the girl. +Well, I shall soon have my day. If Braun ever presents that letter +in Hamburg the friends there will have received my secret message +by our No. II, who goes over this trip. A walk around the docks, +and a knife stab in the back will settle Braun. He knows too much +to be allowed to run loose in Europe. He would like to spoil our +game; he shall spoil his own." And the traitor hastened away to +entrap Braun, little dreaming that the acute druggist would never +trust himself to the hands of the "gang" at Hamburg. + +Randall Clayton had been startled by Madame Raffoni's eager +disclosure as he approached the place of rendezvous. He had studied +the still handsome face of the disguised Leah Einstein when she told +him that the Fräulein was really ill and most unhappy. He managed +to pick out from her dialect that the diva had been plunged in some +secret sorrow. + +Quietly restraining himself, he watched the voluptuous form of +the Jewess mingle with the crowd of guests on the hotel terrace. +"That poor woman, a worn-out theater beauty, is without guile. What +can this mean?" + +He had rightly judged the good-hearted Leah's concern, and he never +knew of the long hours of the discarded mistress' ministrations +to the "reigning beauty." + +Timorous at heart, Leah Einstein's evil career had been only one +of petty wheedling craft, and an easy self-surrender. + +Violence she both feared and abhorred, and now, in the wane of her +beauty, she was easily content with such crumbs of money profit as +could be picked up by an easy code of a plastic surface morality +which covered only her petty intrigues. + +Loyal to Irma Gulyas, Randall Clayton dared not question the poor +mock duenna; in fact, her jargon vocabulary would have failed her, +but there had been no deceit in the sympathetic tears which clung +to Madame Raffoni's eyelids. + +Seated on a half-burned spar, there where the roar of the restless +waves reached their ears, with her face veiled, the Magyar witch +awaited her all unsuspicious lover. The golden sunset faded now +far in the west, the piled up purple clouds were turning blacker, +and around them + + + "The mists arose, the waters swelled," + "Gulls screamed, their flight recalling." + + +The woman's heart was racked with the deceit which had entrapped +a man she now madly loved. + +The freshening wind was driving the black smoke of the steamers, +far out at sea, in long funereal wreaths, athwart the foaming wake, +and the silver-sailed schooners began to reef, in anticipation of +the coming storm. + +An infinite tenderness seized upon Randall Clayton as he motioned +to Madame Raffoni to leave them, and then took that beloved head +to its shelter upon his breast. + +His heart panted for the day when they could be all in all to +each other. He felt the clouding spell of some mysterious enmity +descending upon them, and clouding their love as he kissed the +white and trembling hands which had so nervously clasped his own. +For Irma Gluyas feared for her own life. She dared not betray the +tiger-like Fritz Braun, whose veiled scheme of plunder or blackmail +she could not fathom. + +Hitherto all had gone well with them, in their merry will-o'-the-wisp +game with Irma's jealous unknown guardians, with his concealed +enemies. + +But Clayton well knew that no mere pretense would baffle Arthur +Ferris' thorough knowledge of all of his past social habits. + +He dared not openly quarrel with Ferris until Jack Witherspoon's +return. He only lived now to see the Detroit lawyer speeding west, +far on ahead of the deceitful Ferris, who would be detained in +New York by the quiet consummation of the big deal. + +Clayton was but too well aware that his only weapon was his knowledge +of Ferris' secret marriage--an outrage upon Alice Worthington's +unguarded girlhood. + +And yet he dared not openly use that weapon; how easy for the old +capitalist to frame a suave excuse for the "maimed rites" of that +Western bridal. + +One longing burned now in Clayton's heart, the honest wish to find +some dignified and safe place of meeting with the woman upon whom +he would shower the gold soon to be his own. + +"If anything should happen," he thought. + +Of course, his own face was too well known to adopt any mere hiding +tactics. Irma was ever fearful of her jealous artist guardians, +and in this lovely evening hour the lover's heart rose up in all +its stormy tendeness to beg her to lift the veil from her incognito. + +Even while they murmured again their vows and drifted away into +dreams of the unclouded future, the heavens were blackening around +them. + +Irma seemed strangely frightened as she cowered in her lover's +arms, while he begged her to lift the veil of her privacy. + +"I must be with you--near you," he cried. "Listen! I have even +now grave matters hanging over me which may summon me suddenly +away from you. You know not my abode. You cannot write or telegraph +safely to my office. + +"There are veiled spies, jealous rivals, there, who would rob me +of place, power, and the money which will yet be ours, in the dear +far-off Danube land. + +"You have been ill, distressed," he fondly said. "Nay, do not deny +it! Madame Raffoni has told me all." + +"My God!" whispered Irma. "She has told you"-- + +"Only that you have suffered, my darling," said Clayton, folding +her to his breast. + +"Ah! I must make an end of it!" the loyal lover cried, as Irma lay +sobbing on his breast. "If I could only come to you; how shall I +know? Can you trust no one? There is Madame Raffoni," said Clayton. + +"She knows where my office is. I have bribed her, with flattery +and a few little kindnesses, to come and tell me of you, several +times, when we have been separated in these long weeks. We have +not even gone to the 'Bavaria'; I have shown her my office. I care +not to force myself upon your loyal secrecy. I respect the promise +upon which your artistic future depends; but think of me. If you +were ill, and we were separated by Fate, I should go mad! I could +not live! Can you not trust her to bring me to you?" Fear and love +were striving now in the singer's throbbing heart. + +The Magyar witch clasped her arms around her gallant lover in +a mad access of tenderness. "And you do love me so, Randall," she +cried, in a storm of tears. + +"More than my life," said the man who now felt her heart beating +wildly against his own. + +"Ah! God!" sobbed Irma. "If we had only met in other days, in +another land, in my own dear country!" + +"Listen, Irma," pleaded Clayton. "I will soon take you away, far +over the seas." + +"In a few weeks I shall be free, and you shall be my own, my very +own! For I will then come to you, free to give you all that life +and love can give. + +"But promise me now that Madame Raffoni shall lead me to you if +you need me. You can trust her. I will come to her home. I cannot +bear this agony, and I am watched, also!" + +Even as he spoke, the heavens blackened and a stormy drift of rain +swept athwart the sky. There was a muttering roll of thunder. The +white-crested waves dashed menacingly upon the shore! + +Irma Gluyas clung to her lover as the affrighted Madame Raffoni came +rushing toward them for shelter in the storm. The red lightning +flashed, and the fury of the storm was upon them. It was a wild +tempest which raged around them. The women were helpless with +fear. + +In despair, Randall Clayton gazed at the distant hotels; there was +shelter and safety. But now a new fear beset him. His well-known +identity, Irma's marked beauty, the strange attendant duenna, there +would be certain discovery and scandal. And he would be Ferris' +easy victim if discovered. + +Irma Gluyas shrieked as she clung to her lover and bade him save +her as the wild lightning bolts rent the darkness. It was a horrid +elemental tumult! + +A few hundred yards away a heavy closed carriage was slowly creeping +along the drive between the hotels. "Run for your life!" shouted +Clayton to the eager Madame Raffoni. "Stop that carriage. Offer +him anything, everything! I will carry her. I must save her." + +Bending himself to the task, Clayton raised the fainting form of +Irma Gluyas. Her long hair lowered, swept around her in the storm; +her sculptured arms clung to him, and her warm heart thrilled him +as he sped on through the driving torrent. He was possessed with +Love's last delirium. + +In the violence of the storm, Clayton could only motion "forward" +as he closed the door of the carriage and the frightened horses +set off at a mad gallop. The inmates of the carriage never saw the +bridge as the vehicle swayed from side to side in the blue-flamed +lightning flashes. + +They were nearing Brooklyn when, in the still driving storm, +Clayton descended and procured some restoratives at a pharmacy. + +He poured a draught of strong wine between the affrighted woman's +pallid lips, and then whispered, "You must tell me where to take +you. It is life or death now." + +And then Irma Gluyas, her head resting on Madame Raffoni's bosom, +feebly whispered, "To my home, 192 Layte Street." + +There was not a word spoken as, in the midnight darkness of the +storm, the horses struggled along until, under the shelter of the +high houses, the carriage stopped before the desolate-looking old +mansion. + +There was a look of terror on Madame Raffoni's face which was not +lost upon Clayton. "Get the door open," he hoarsely cried. "I will +carry her in. Then, I swear to you, I will leave her at once." + +The strong man sprang from his place, and in a few moments he stood +within the veiled splendors of the old drawing-room. + +Kneeling by the bed, wherein he had deposited the senseless woman, +Clayton chafed her marble hands in an agony of despair. + +But, even in his lover's exaltation, he listened to Madame Raffoni, +who knelt before him in passionate adjuration. "Go, go!" she cried +in broken pathos. "I will come to you to-morrow." + +And she dragged him to the door. "I will all do; everything! I +swear! Yes! Yes!! Yes!!!" + +With one last despairing look, raining passionate kisses upon the +marble lips of the woman he loved, Randall Clayton left the dusky +magnificence of the superb apartment, and only halted at the door +long enough to whisper to the Raffoni, "Bring me to her to-morrow, +and I will make you rich!" + +And the poor woman dumbly covered his hands with obedient kisses. +"Go, go!" she cried. "I will come!" + +And, touched with the woman's frantic fears, Randall Clayton sprang +into the carriage. Through the blinding storm he had reached the +New York side before he thought of his own movements, of the morrow, +of his coming friend, and of his wary enemies. + +Then he resolutely made up his mind to fight the warring Fates to +a finish. + +He drove to the Astor House, dismissed his driver with a ransom +fee, and there hid himself in an upper room. + +When he presented himself at the half-deserted office of the Western +Trading Company, upon the next morning, he was clad in unfamiliar +garb. + +His blood-shot eyes told of a vigil of mental suffering, and he +dared say nothing as he gruffly bowed when Mr. Somers told him of +Robert Wade's continued illness. + +"I am going down to the election," said the old accountant. And +so you will be in charge, as Mr. Ferris has not been heard from. +There is no one here but you to represent the management." + +"Trapped," muttered Clayton, who listened every moment for some +tidings of the woman whose silken hair had wound its delicate meshes +around him in the storm. "Dying; dead, perhaps," he groaned, in an +agony of excitement, and then and there he swore that, upon the +arrival of Witherspoon he would leave the cave of his enemies, await +his fate, and bear Irma Gluyas away to farther and fairer lands. + +The long morning dragged on in a semi-stupor as he sat there +listening to the hollow footfall of the casual passers-by. + +And yet there was no word from Madame Raffoni, the only holder of +the secret of Irma Gluyas' life. His foot was on the threshhold to +leave at last, when Arthur Ferris calmly entered. + +Randall Clayton mastered himself with a mighty effort, as Ferris +glibly murmured, "I am only here for a few moments! Come into the +private office." + +The few minutes before they were at their ease in Robert Wade's +impregnable sanctum enabled Clayton to steel himself against the +secret bridegroom's duplicity. Clayton's quick eye noted Ferris' +satchel, his top-coat and umbrella carelessly thrown down on Wade's +reading-table. + +"Have you been at the rooms?" carelessly remarked Clayton, tossing +Ferris' private keys upon the table. "No," curtly replied Ferris. +"I came here directly from the train. I wished to stop and see my +mother and sister; but Wade's illness has upset all my plans. + +"I have to go on to Philadelphia at once on some private business +for the Chief. You know he is a very heavy stockholder in the Cramp +Shipbuilding Company. I will not be back for several days." + +"And what about the election?" deliberately replied Clayton, now +anxious to draw his enemy out. "I have nothing to do with that," +said Ferris, dropping his eyes to veil a slight agitation. "Wade +has all that in charge, and he has given Somers his proxy." + +"I thought that you held Worthington's private power of attorney," +stoutly said Randall Clayton. + +"Only for his outside matters, Clayton," coaxingly said Ferris. +"The fact is, we may expect many changes. Hugh has several plans +of great importance in his mind. + +"Yes; I have lived in an atmosphere of change for some time, Ferris," +said Clayton, bluntly. "I have only been waiting for your return +to consult with you about giving up our joint apartment. + +"I reserved that privilege on May 1st, and you can either keep the +rooms or sublet them. I have paid the rental for the last three +months in your absence." + +"See here, Clayton," sharply said Ferris, throwing off the mask. +"I am not a man for any mysteries. I don't know why I should be +forced to tell you things that I do not know myself. + +"Now, I will be several days busy with these outside matters at +Philadelphia. You had the one opportunity of your life the other +day. + +"I expect that you will have reconsidered your refusal to Wade, +to obey Hugh Worthington's orders by my return." + +"So you know all about it, do you?" fiercely retorted Randall Clayton. +"I fancied that Wade was dealing directly with Hugh, himself, by the +tone of the Chief's letters and the telegrams which I have received." + +"The matter has been referred to me," hotly answered Ferris, who +dared not openly use his new power. "But I will not wait here to +discuss this matter. I may miss my train." + +Arthur Ferris sharply rang a bell, and then, with a nod of recognition, +directed the young Einstein to take his traps down stairs and call +him a carriage. + +The door clanged and the two secret enemies were left facing each +other. + +"I had fancied," said Clayton, bitterly, "that a lifetime spent +in Hugh Worthington's service would at least win me a dismissal at +first hands. + +"Wade has tried to force me to throw up a position for which I was +previously named by Worthington. I imagined that the Chief was +really going abroad. He seems to have changed his plans. I have no +means of reaching him direct. + +"And now, sir, you will find the keys of our rooms with the janitor +on your return. All that I wish to know is whether I shall deal +with you or Wade in giving my final answer to the suspended orders +for me to go West." + +"You stand ready to throw up a life position?" harshly cried Ferris, +white with secret rage pausing with his hand on the door. + +"I shall certainly wait until I hear from Mr. Worthington," +gravely answered Clayton. "It matters little about me. Your own +life position is secure!" + +"What do you mean by that?" cried Ferris, springing forward in a +sudden anger which made him forget all his plans of crafty concealment. + +But the tall Westerner, with one wave of his arm, swept Ferris' +delicate form away from the door and passed out of the presence of +the budding capitalist. + +Arthur Ferris cast stealthy glances to right and left as he sought +the elevator. He breathed freer when he reached the sidewalk. + +Fortunately, no one had overheard the unseemly quarrel. + +His hand was on the carriage door when his glances fell upon the +questioning face of Emil Einstein. + +"Anything further, sir?" demanded the eager office boy. "Yes! Jump +in with me and ride down to the Pennsylvania Ferry. I may need +you." + +Ferris' brain was in a whirl. He had intended to double around +and reach Wade's house, where he was a secret guest, during the +excitable ordeal of the election. + +Too well he knew the dangers of setting his own foot in Wall Street. +Keen brokers, great operators, lynx-eyed newspaper reporters would +soon corner him. + +His slightest word would be misconstrued, and there was still time +for some unforeseen plot before the polls of the stockholders' +election closed at three o'clock. + +Clayton's defiant manner had aroused his jealousy to a keen rage. +"Does the fool know anything of my marriage?" he mused. "How could +he?" Ferris smiled, for his girl wife was still in Tacoma, by her +father's side, and the marriage had been a secret one. + +The crafty lawyer hated Clayton, at heart, for too well he knew that +no word clouding Clayton's character could be uttered unchallenged +in Alice Worthington's presence. + +Once he had tried, to probe her opinions, with faint sneers, but +his voice had died away under the indignant protest of the heiress. + +"I do not know who has poisoned my father's mind," resolutely said +the Little Sister, "but Randall Clayton has been the brother of my +heart, and always will be. If he had never left us we would all +be happier to-day." + +The clear-browed woman did not know how truly this arrow had sped +to its mark. It silenced forever Arthur Ferris, and lent a new +caution to the scheming plans of the old money grabber. + +"If I only had my cipher book," was the first thought of the excited +Ferris, "I must telegraph to Hugh and put him on his guard. What +the devil can Clayton have picked up?" + +There was yet two weeks before the final arrangement of the "great +deal," and the repayment of the two millions could be substantially +arranged. + +As the carriage dashed along to the Christopher Street Ferry, Ferris +rapidly made up his plan of action. "I can go over to Taylor's +Hotel at Jersey City. Old Somers will cast the majority vote at a +quarter of three. + +"I can call him up at the down-town office by telephone, and then +telegraph direct to old Hugh at Tacoma. + +"And Wade must come over to me at Philadelphia and spend a day or +so, for appearance's sake. But a light rein is needed for this wild +ass of the West, Clayton. Oh! to have him out there in Cheyenne +for one month. + +"Yes! By Jove, I have it! Hugh must invite him to meet him there. +I will telegraph him, and the old man can smooth Clayton down." + +A sudden desire to know of Randall Clayton's private life seized +upon Ferris, who already contemplated a sweet revenge. "Damn +him! I must keep him and Alice apart. She would side with him, on +sentimental grounds. But, as soon as I get back, I can cipher Hugh +that he must settle this fellow, in some way, on that Western visit. +The old fox can find a way, and both Alice and I will be out of +it." + +Deliberately selecting two one hundred dollar bills from his wallet, +Arthur Ferris held them up to the astonished gaze of Einstein. +"Mr. Clayton has been a little strange in his behavior lately," he +said. "In some tiff he has thrown up his old rooms, and is going +to move. I will be away three or four days. When I come back, I +want to know just where he is located, and--all about him; who his +friends are, and so on. There is more where this came from." + +"I understand," smoothly answered Emil, pocketing the bills with +a grin. + +In the meantime Ferris had scribbled a few words on a card. He stopped +the carriage. "Jump out and take a coupe, and get instantly down to +Wall and Broad. You'll find Mr. Somers waiting in the election-room. +Tell him not to leave there till I get him on the 'phone from +Jersey City. And my address you can give him as Lafayette House, +Philadelphia. I'll be there three days." The lie was deliberate, +and even the triple spy believed him. + +The long hours crawled away while Randall Clayton resolutely paced +his lonely office. Only the busy under-accountants came in now and +then for a word of directions, and the ticking of the office clock +sounded like the hollow tapping of hammers upon coffin-lids to the +solitary man who was crazed with his loving anxiety to hear from +the woman who now ruled his every thought. + +He forgot the absence of Einstein in his eager waiting for some +intelligence of the woman whom he had shielded from the storm. Poor +Madame Raffoni had mumbled some obscure words about "die herz-kranke." + +"Heartsick, my God! I am heartsick," cried Randall Clayton. "And, +she may be alone; there may be no one to send." + +Clayton tried to recall the last directions which he had given +to the disguised Leah Einstein. All that he could recall was the +murmured pledge, "I will come, I will come!" + +The lover's heart told him that Ferris' spies would now follow in +his every movment. He lingered, in a trance of agony, until long +after the parchment-faced Somers had returned from Wall and Broad +Street. + +"It was a very quiet election," murmured Somers, who started at the +appearance of the young man's haggard face. He was astonished to +see Clayton lingering there to the confines of darkness. + +The faithful old tool of Mammon had crawled back to turn all his +combination knobs and cast a last glance over the rooms into which +his life had grown as the silkworm into its cocoon. + +"You must go away, my boy," kindly said old Somers, "you need a +long rest." + +"Yes, yes," mournfully replied Clayton, thinking of the five days +of agony before Jack Witherspoon would arrive to run the gauntlet +of the treacherous Ferris. "I must go away--go away--and, have a +long, long rest!" + +The old accountant watched his listless steps as he departed. "Head +or heart--which?" he murmured. "That man is in a bad way." + + + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +"THIS MAY BE MY LAST BANK DEPOSIT." + + + + + +There was an air of supreme content upon the usually impassive face +of Arthur Ferris when he hung the receiver of the public telephone +up upon its hook, at precisely fifteen minutes past three o'clock, +in the office of Taylor's Hotel. + +The astonished girl gazed admiringly after the young lawyer, when +he dropped a two-dollar bill into her hand, saying, "Never mind +the change." + +"It's my lucky day," murmured Ferris, as he sought the telegraph +office. The measured words of Accountant Somers were still ringing +in his ears: + +"A very quiet election; no opposition to our ticket. Directors' +meeting pro forma. Vice-President Selden cast majority vote +for new officers. Reports endorsed. Selden, president; yourself, +vice-president; Hugh Worthington, managing director. New officers +published to-morrow. Too late for afternoon press. Will go and +report to Mr. Wade." + +The first official act of Vice-President Arthur Ferris had been +to order Accountant Somers to send a cheque for one month's extra +salary to each of the office force, and then to add, "I shall +be in Philadelphia for some days, remember; Lafayette House. Use +telegraph business cipher only. I will be too busy to come to the +telephone. Shall be at Cramp's yards taking a look with a view to +further investments there." + +No flush of triumph colored Arthur Ferris' pale face as he pondered +over his dispatch to Hugh Worthington. He suddenly paused, with +his pencil in the air. + +"By God! I have it! We will soft-soap this fellow. Violence in +quarrel is always a clumsy mistake. I need to keep in touch with +Clayton; at least, until old Hugh gets his claws upon him. What if +the fool resigns and throws all up in a huff? There is no way to +lure him out West then. It would not do to have anything happen to +him here. And I'll ring in the Auld Lang Syne a bit, also." + +He smiled artfully as he read over his two telegrams before handing +them to the waiting operator. The anaemic girl was sadly disappointed +in their tenor. She had scented an intrigue in the presence of the +dapper young lawyer with his distinctly clubman air. + +"Pshaw! only business," she murmured, as she dashed her hand into +the cash till for the change of a five-dollar bill. + +But Arthur Ferris' resolute eyes recalled her to duty, as he +impatiently said, "Repeat them both back to me, at Lafayette House, +Philadelphia. Take out the extra charge, and please give me a press +copy of each." + +"I'll run over to Philadelphia, drop in at the clubs, have a good +time, and then disappear via Pittsburgh 'for New York,'" he said. +"It will give time for Randall Clayton to cool off. And, after +all, the smooth way is the best way. I can hold him over till Hugh +works him 'on the easy pulley.'" + +He was proud of these two telegrams, as he sat at his carefully-chosen +early dinner. He read them over with a secret glee. + +"He is ours. No one can snatch him from our clutches. The old man +can cajole him with Alice's wish that he should join the family +party. That'll fetch him. Fool! that he did not make the running +while she was at his side. The 'Sister' business is always a rank +failure. But he has made me a millionaire for life." + +Arthur Ferris had no pity for the man whose life secrets he +had sapped in those four long years of treason to friendship. He +recalled with a secret complacence the steps which had led him, +bit by bit, into Hugh Worthington's confidence, through the frank +disclosures of Clayton. + +And so, fortified by the single-hearted man's intimate relations +with the Detroit household, Arthur Ferris had taken up every thread +as it slipped through Clayton's busy fingers. + +The knowledge that he would enjoy Randall Clayton's real patrimony; +that he had stolen a charming wife from the man who was bound by +an unearned gratitude to Worthington, made this hour of triumph a +most delicious one. + +"Old Hugh needed me; he needed a man who would be a safe intermediary +with Durham; one who was a Safe Deposit for both senator and +millionaire. + +"Now I hold every trump in life, and Clayton, the dolt, has thrown +away his fortune and made mine." + +Then the thin-lipped lawyer recalled Balzac's remark, "One, in +order to succeed, must either cut one's way through life like a +sword, or glide through the world quietly like a pestilence." + +"I'll let Hugh use the sword," he laughed, as he enjoyed his +well-warmed Chamberton. "I am beyond all the storms of Fate now. + +"What more could I desire? On the road to a million, a charming girl +wife, one whom I can mould like clay, and Durham and Worthington +can easily send me to Congress." He saw the Senate chamber opening +to him, through the rosy light of the wooing Burgundy. + +And again his eye sought the telegrams. "Not a word to alter," and +he smiled as he read. + +"Hugh Worthington, + +"Palace Hotel, Tacoma:-- + +"A quiet election. All arranged. New officers published to-morrow. +Telegraph Clayton to meet you at Cheyenne for conference. Have Alice +join. Suggest month's vacation. He is irritable and suspicious. +Full code telegrams to you at Cheyenne. Will wait here until you +have met him and disposed of his case." + +Ferris had added a key-word, which no one would suspect meant +"Imminent danger," and signed an alias known to Hugh Worthington +alone. + +But to Randall Clayton his Judas words of brotherly cordiality were +as frank and open as the unsuspecting nature of the defrauded man +demanded. + +The unhappy Clayton was troubled at heart as he opened this yellow +paper, livid with its living lie, as he waited aimlessly at his +rooms for some tidings from Emil Einstein, whose long absence had +astonished him. + +In the lonely rooms, with his eyes fixed on Irma Gluyas' superb +artist proof, Clayton gave himself easily up to Ferris' crafty +subterfuge. + +He had already repented the violent quarrel. "This marriage may +be a mere rumor," he mused. "Jack Witherspoon must make his words +good when he comes." + +He had already half determined to frankly meet Hugh Worthington +with a demand for a clearing up of the whole mystery of his youthful +dependence. + +The telegram from Jersey City disarmed all his resentment. It was +addressed: + +"Dear Old Boy: Forget hasty words. Am tired with travel; worn out. +Remember the old friendship. Stay in our rooms. Will return in +three days. You shall choose your way to arrange with Worthington. +If you wish to stay on here, I'll telegraph jointly with you. Meet +me at dinner Monday night, Century Club." + +When he had read the last words, "Answer, Lafayette House, +Philadelphia," Randall Clayton went out into the early evening +and listlessly dispatched the words, "All right. Will stay on as +requested," and then he slowly returned to his rooms. On his return +he found Emil Einstein awaiting him before his door. + +Clayton's beating heart told him that the unusual had happened. +"Speak! What is it?" cried the half-crazed lover. And the boy then +hurriedly told him of his late return to the office, after executing +many errands for the absent Ferris. + +"There was a woman--a lady," hesitated Einstein, "trying to find +your office. The elevator man told her that you had gone. She only +spoke a little English, and, as I speak German, I tried to keep +her"-- + +"She dared not stay!" almost shouted Clayton. + +"She left word your friend is very ill, and that she cannot leave +her. You cannot go there to-night, but the lady may come back +to-morrow morning for you if anything happens. She was very much +frightened." + +"And you?"--demanded Clayton, grasping the boy's arm. "Why did you +not bring her here?" + +"She could not stay. She had waited a long time before I came back. +And I told her it was a half-holiday to-morrow, the three-days' +holiday coming on"-- + +"Would you know her again?" anxiously demanded Clayton. + +"Certainly," murmured the sordid liar, speaking the truth for once. + +"Describe her," hastily ordered the excited man. And Master Emil +Einstein gave a not too glowing description of the charms of his +own mother. + +"Listen," said the half-demented Clayton. "You must watch all +to-morrow morning, down below, upon the sidewalk, and around the +entrance. + +"If that lady comes, just detain her down there, and I will join +her at once. Not a word to a living soul. Swear that you'll keep +this secret, and I'll make your fortune yet." + +"I swear on my life," said the startled boy, frightened at the +ghastly pallor of Clayton's face. + +He hastened away, leaving the cashier disturbed at his last disclosure. +"I forgot to say that she fears they may move your friend to-night, +some place, God knows where: perhaps to some hospital, and then, +of course, she couldn't come." + +Randall Clayton sank into a chair with a smothered groan. For the +one haunting fear of his last three months was proving true. Here was +the separation from Irma Gluyas, and on the verge of his fortune. +"My God! It is terrible," he cried. He waited until the boy had +scuttled away. + +"He must not know. One false step now would ruin all," thought +Clayton. "My love for Irma once suspected, and she would be spirited +off to Europe or lose her artistic future. If she were cast out, +I have nothing to offer yet, nothing but castles in Spain." + +But the lad, hidden in a dark doorway, was greedily counting the +loose bills which Clayton had hastily thrust into his hand. "Paid +for not giving away my own mother's secrets," the boy laughed +viciously. "The old girl is safe, but what the devil is she up +to?" He decided that he would cautiously watch over Clayton, but +he feared to report this last entanglement to Fritz Braun, whose +gripsack and office luggage he was to remove from the pharmacy. + +Before Einstein had reached the pharmacy, driven on by a mad unrest, +Randall Clayton threw on a loose top coat, slipped a loaded pistol +in his pocket, and then, hailing the first empty carriage, dashed +down to the Brooklyn Bridge. It was only by taking up his course +on the evening of the storm, on foot, that the restless lover could +make his way over to the corner where the pretentious newness of +the "Valkyrie" building shamed the rich old mansion sheltered under +its lee. + +At the Magdal Pharmacy, Mr. Fritz Braun suspended his last looking +over his private desk, just long enough to whisper a few final +directions to Emil Einstein. The boy had nothing special to report. +But the crafty pharmacist well knew how to reach the softest spot +of the young Hebrew's indurated heart. + +"See here," he said, as he drew the boy into a dark corner. "After +all said and done, your mother is the only human being in the world +that I trust. For Leah has always been true to me. I'm getting +a bit old. I'm going to settle down after I've made this trip. If +you watch my interests while I'm away, your mother may have a home +for life with me, in charge of my home; and you, you young rascal, +I'll push your fortune. So, a shut mouth; look out and don't babble +to Lilienthal. He is a chatterer. Timmins, here, is a drunken +loafer, and will burn the block up some night, but I need him a +little while yet. + +"I may even give you this place, and set you up with a good +pharmacist, if I can find a man over there. Timmins can show him +the secret side of the business; then, we can throw this London +cockney out, and you'll find Magdal's to be a gold mill. I shall +have something else to do, my boy. Now, be off with my traps." + +"Take them to 192 Layte Street. Ring the front bell three times; +you'll find your mother there. Give her the traps, but do not enter +the house. She will tell you anything I wish to-morrow; and, so, +remember I can make your fortune. Obey your mother; there's one +thing about her, she has got some head and heart." The boy hastened +away on his quest. + +Fritz Braun, left alone, stooped and picked up a little piece of +paper which had fluttered down on the floor at his feet. He was +careful to "leave no black plume as a token." + +And now there was not a vestige left of his past nefarious traffic. +"Timmins can do no harm now," sneeringly laughed Fritz Braun. "For +I carry these things in my head, and he must trust to some member of +the craft. What blockheads these fat-witted English practitioners +are." + +Braun's hollow laugh echoed from behind the flowing false beard, +as he read over the faded prescriptions he had idly picked up. It +was a powerful agent of evil--a tool of the deadly thug. + +"By God! I may need this old friend. How did I come to forget it? +It may purchase my safety, or else give some poor devil peace and +rest." + +"My last appearance on any stage," he muttered, as his hands were +soon busied with the familiar phials around him. "I'll have a few +doses of this 'Sinner's Friend' with me," he muttered. "Who knows +where I may not need it. It is the only paralyzer." + +Seizing a three-ounce flask, he cast aside his blue goggles for +a moment as he measured his ingredients. One by one he carefully +added them, until the small bottle was filled with a colorless +mixture. + +He read the innocent-looking scrawl a last time, and then burned +it at a fluttering gas jet. The words seemed burned in upon his +brain. His practiced glance ran over the bottles on the shelves +ranged there like soldiers in their silent ranks. His eye gleamed +vindictively as he murmured: "First, my old friend chloral hydrate--there +you are. Now, your reliable brother, chloroform"--He shook up the +growing mixture with a secret pride. "Just the right amount of +muriate codine"--There was a pause, as the codine dissolved with +the other ingredients. "And now," he gaily murmured, "distilled +water," the last element needed to bind these together as a water +of death. It is a royal secret of the rogue's pharmacy--the best +garment for a flitting soul, tasteless and painless. + +"Warranted to fit the largest man or the smallest boy," laughed +the scoundrel, replacing his goggles, as he fitted a ground-glass +stopper tightly to the flask. "I am not particularly anxious to be +caught with this on me. It would mean two to five years of 'voluntary +assistance' to the State at Sing Sing. But one little well-regulated +dose of this soothing charm, and the strongest man drops helpless +at my feet." + +Braun slipped it in an inner pocket, and passed out, with a careless +nod to the overjoyed Timmins. "Remember, Lilienthal is your only +adviser. Six months from now, I'll put a new life into things here." + +When Braun had disappeared, Ben Timmins drained a brandy and soda +to his eternal discomfiture. "'Ere's 'oping the bloomin' ship +founders with the old beggar," growled the Londoner, who had noted +Braun sweep away the last thirty dollars in the till. "'E might +have left me a few pennies." + +It was ten o'clock when Randall Clayton, pacing up and down the +street, nervously eying the darkened front door of 192 Layte Street, +saw a lad nimbly dart up the front steps, touch a bell-push, and +then vanish in a few moments, as the door closed. Ciayton could +only distinguish vaguely the bundles with which the boy had been +loaded down. He lingered there in agony, afraid to approach that +portal. + +But, a half-hour later, a portly man, in a light-colored coat, +with easy leisure, strolling up the steps, inserted a latch-key, +and the baffled lover could only see that the hallway was dark, +with one half-turned-up gas jet. + +Clayton cautiously explored the rear of the house, finding an +alleyway suitable for unloading the bulky wares of the "Valkyrie" +saloon. + +A broad flight of steps led down to the cellarway of the "Valkyrie," +and a similar one to the basement of the old mansion. + +"The basement is used for business storage, evidently," mused the +puzzled Clayton; but even with his brief experience of the night +before, he could tell that the great rear drawing-room and library +were the rooms into which he had borne the senseless form of the +woman he madly loved. Through a chink of the enamelled white shutters +a faint pencil of light shone out in the gloomy darkness. + +"Good God!" he groaned, "I would give my life to be within that +room." For his heart told him that Irma Gluyas lay helpless within +there, and he only wandered away at midnight, when a stray policeman +suspiciously eyed him lingering in the alley. + +"Einstein is my only hope," he despairingly cried, as he wandered +back to the bridge and sought his lonely rooms. The silky-gray +dawn found him still dressed, lying on a chair, with his eyes fixed +upon the picture, the first sight of which had been the beginning +of his fevered dream. + +And then, suddenly recalling himself, he put out the flaring lights, +bathed his throbbing temples, and went out to seek an early-opening +coffee-shop. "I must be myself to-day," he muttered, after the +drowsy waiter had forced some breakfast upon him. + +"For the three-days' holiday begins at noon, and I shall be free +then. I must do my bank business alone, and keep Einstein on the +watch." + +By sheer force of habit, he had opened the damp morning--paper +thrust upon the swell customer. + +"Some young fly by night, throwing his money and his life away," +mused the experienced Celtic attendant. "Give me the Tenderloin +for fools. And there's a new crop every year!" + +Suddenly Randall Clayton started. There was the confirmation of Jack +Witherspoon's prophetic warnings. The words "Important Financial +Changes" met his eye, with the announcement of the "cut and dried" +election of the Western Trading Company. "So, Mr. Arthur Ferris, +you are the new vice-president, and Mr. Hugh Worthington the +managing director." He saw how he had been duped. + +Throwing a few coins on the table, he sped homeward and made a +careful toilet. "Jack will be here in three days, now! I will meet +them and beat them at their own game. Craft for craft, and I can +wait. For Irma's sake!" + +On his way to the office for the first time he steadied his nerve +with the bar-keeper's aid. The blood bounded in his pulses under +the unaccustomed stimulant. + +He was devil-may-care in his manner as he listlessly turned over his +morning mail, thrusting his pistol back into the bank portmanteau. The +sight of the familiar case recalled to him his dangerous position. + +"I must play my policy game softly now," he mused. "Whatever +happens, I must meet Ferris smoothly; but once that Jack Witherspoon +is safely out of town to the West, I'll have him face up old Hugh. +It's either life with Irma, or death without her!" + +Mechanically carrying on his routine, he opened his mail, after +exchanging a few careless words with Somers over the "new deal" +in the company's management. + +"I shall get your bank deposits ready early," kindly said old +Somers. "I'm glad to see you looking better. I go away at noon +for the three-days' holiday. You can keep the bank-book, and we +can get the exchange Tuesday at noon. + +"I will finish my trial balance papers while I'm up at Greenwich. +I'm only a stray few cents out." + +And then Ralph Somers told Clayton of the month's gratuity. "I +guess I'll go in for a gay old Fourth!" cheerfully said Clayton, +who picked up a telegram just brought in by a boy. + +His face softened strangely as he read words which waked all the +happy memories of his lonely boyhood. + +Here, at last, vas a message from the woman who had been the +"Little Sister" of the few bright years of his shaded life. And +her truthful, girlish face rose up before him again, as he read +the words which touched his wavering heart. The dispatch was from +Hugh Worthington at Tacoma, and the old fox had well chosen the +only way to disarm Clayton's watchful suspicions. + +The words seemed frank enough, and Randall Clayton's fingers +trembled with a certain pleasurable thrill as he read. + +"She still thinks of me, poor Little Sister, after all these +years of estrangement. Perhaps only the greed of gold lies behind +the whole thing. He seized a telegraph blank and studied over his +reply. + +"What shall I wire to him?" the puzzled man vainly demanded. He +tried to mark out the false and true between the words of father +and daughter. It all seemed fair enough in a way, according to +their different natures. + +"Tacoma, July 2, 1897. + +"Come at once to Cheyenne. Am leaving here to join you. Alice wishes +to see you particularly before she sails for Japan. Take a month's +leave. Turn your cash business over to Secretary Edson. You can +go back to Pacific Coast with me after seeing our ranches. If +you don't like assignment out West, you can go back to New York. +Telegraph me to Cheyenne date of your arrival, and also answer +Alice. Palace Hotel, Tacoma. Don't fail. Imperative." + +Randall Clayton was left without lights to guide. "By Heavens!" he +cried. "Jack has surely been deceived as to the marriage. I must +answer Hugh. I dare not leave Alice without an answer. And Jack +only three days away!" + +After a half-hour's study he sprang from his chair. + +"Eureka!" he muttered. "There's Doctor Billy Atwater, the only +man I know of Jack Witherspoon's college fraternity, and of my own +Chapter here. I can have him meet Jack at the steamer and give him +a sealed letter to follow me on to Cheyenne. I can telegraph Jack +at Detroit. Arthur Ferris will be busied here." + +"Ringing a bell, he sent a boy up town to his stable to order +a carriage to wait for him at the corner of Fourteenth Street and +University Place. When I go to the bank I can drive up and be sure +to catch him at his office. He may be going off for a three-days' +holiday, also. I must not miss him." + +Then he resolutely traced his telegram accepting Hugh Worthington's +offer, and penned a few lines to "Miss Alice." "What a sham our +modern plutocratic life is," bitterly murmured Clayton. "Is it +really Miss or Mrs.? Where does the truth lie? I'll stake my life +that Alice has not deceived me!" + +The hoodwinked Clayton never knew of the fierce secret battle at +Tacoma, in which Arthur Ferris had flatly refused to come East and +make the great quiet coup de finance until Worthington had agreed +to a private ceremony before his departure. "Give what reasons +you wish to Alice; you can even take her over to Japan and back +as Miss Worthington; but I will be made safe, or I'll not turn the +cards for you." + +"Very good, then," growled old Worthington, to whom Senator Durham's +friendship was the one factor of success. "You put Durham into our +partnership; I my daughter; but she remains Alice Worthington, and +does not leave my side until you have brought Durham into line on +the Inter-State Commerce. Then I've got my senatorial partner, and +you your wife." + +"Yes, and I am only sure of my life position when the marriage +has taken place," placidly replied Ferris. "I care not for any +publicity, but I know you will deal fairly with your daughter's +husband. Then we can trust each other, for we must!" + +It had been even so, and Arthur Ferris left his girl wife, still +a stranger to him, in the care of the father who demanded the New +York deal with the senatorial ally as the price of the strangely +deferred honeymoon joys. + +The girl bride, with a tranquil heart, awaited the return of +Ferris for the Japanese voyage which was to be a married lovers' +wandering in fairyland. She had taken the dross of Ferris' heart +for minted gold, led on by a father's lure. + +Clayton's words were laconic, but his faith went with them. To the +millionaire he telegraphed: + +"Will start for Cheyenne Monday. Must go to Bay Ridge to see Edson. +Will telegraph arrival from Omaha." + +But to Miss Alice Worthington, Palace Hotel, Tacoma, he dispatched: + +"I am coming West, but only to see you, after many years. Your wish +is my law. You are still my 'Little Sister,' and I am, as of old, +your + +"BROTHER HUGH." + +These telegrams copied in his manifold book, into which he had +carelessly thrust Hugh's dispatch, he picked up a letter in Arthur +Ferris' well-known hand-writing. + +It seemed to be a few frank words following his telegram, and was +dated from Jersey City. Randall Clayton's brow grew grave as he +followed these seemingly candid lines: + +"We parted in anger, old chum and comrade. I cannot tell you all +that I hear in gossip as a lawyer or as Worthington's special agent. +You should try and yield to Hugh's whims. He is old, and has vast +plans afoot. I can now safely explain his recent changes. I simply +staid away from the annual election to prevent jealousy among our +old employees. Hugh means as well by you as he does by me. He is +now the master of the Trading Company. Meet him, if he sends for +you, or writes you, in a yielding spirit. I tell you this because, +in my absence, he has had reports of your changed life. The Fidelity +Company fear that you are either speculating or gambling. They +have reported your altered behavior. Now, all this can be cleared +up. If you have any little private side to your life, confide in +me. I can square all with Hugh. He only wished to get you out West +to break off any possible entanglement. You are not in Wall Street, +are you? It is a seething hell. Now, forgive, forget; meet me +frankly at the Century for dinner, and I may be able to make your +fortune and save your friendship. Burn this; don't answer, even +by wire, as I shall be swinging around by Pittsburg. Wade is your +only critic. He wants the place for his nephew, Tom. We can't blame +him. Blood is thicker than water, after all; but we'll beat him at +his own game. Rely on me till death." + +"This man is either a true friend or else the damnedest villain +alive," muttered Clayton, as he tore the letter into a thousand +fragments. "In two weeks I will know all. The game is made; once +that Jack Witherspoon faces my quondam guardian, I will soon know +whether I am to be prince or pauper." + +It only lacked a quarter of eleven when the silver-haired Somers +called Randall Clayton into his wire-screened den, and opened the +door of the high-walled private compartment with its ground-glass +sides. + +"Here's your deposit, an unusually large one, Mr. Clayton," murmured +Somers, awed by the concrete wealth lying before him. "You can run +over the cheques. The money I will give you an invoice tag for +a clean one hundred and fifty thousand. The cheques go nearly a +hundred more. + +"Here's the list and tag total; they are all endorsed. + +"Just have the whole put on our book as cash and cheque deposit. I +must be off! By the way, should you not take a man with you to-day?" + +"I have a carriage below," quietly said Clayton, "so I'm all right. +No one will know what's in my bag. I will drive back and put the +book in my own safe. It may be late when I do, as there'll be a +hundred heavy depositors at the Astor to-day. No one wants to keep +funds locked up three days." + +Sweeping the bundled bills into the portmanteau, and then locking +up the great wallet of cheques, Randall Clayton absently shook +hands with the fidgety old accountant, now eager for his leave. +"Must catch my train. Take care of yourself," was Somers' hearty +adieu, as he vanished with his ten-year-old umbrella in hand. + +Clayton walked across the hall, with the concealed fortune locked +in the travelling bag, and then remembered his pistol thrown into +his desk drawer. + +He had just slipped it in his pocket when Emil Einstein glided +into the room. + +"Come down," he eagerly whispered, "She's there,--and--there's some +bad news, I fear." + +Never waiting for the elevator, Clayton grasped his hat, hastily +donning his top-coat, and snatching the bag, cried, "Lock up my +desk and keep my keys till I come back. Don't leave; remember!" + +Everything but Irma Gluyas faded from the excited lover's mind as +he saw the portly form of Madam Raffoni lingering in the darkened +hallway of the ground-floor entrance. + +There were tears in the woman's eyes as she sobbed, "She is dying! +Kommen sie schnell!" + +The golden daylight turned to darkness before Clayton's eyes, as +he reeled and staggered. + +Then, a mental flash of hope allured him. + +"Where?" he hoarsely cried. The woman's jargon made plain that the +beautiful singer still lay in the darkened rooms whither his loving +arms had borne her. + +"The carriage, yes; my God, we must hurry!" was Clayton's first +returning thought; and then, motioning to the woman to follow, the +cashier darted along Fourteenth Street. + +He was already within the vehicle when Leah Einstein timidly +entered. + +"To the Fulton Ferry. Hurry!" called out the excited Clayton, as +the burly policeman drove away a knot of "extra"-peddling urchins. + +"I can easily reach the bank by two o'clock; they never shut the side +doors till three," murmured Clayton, as his eyes rested upon the +Russia-leather portmanteau. He instinctively gripped his revolver. +It was all right. + +And then, with a sinking heart, he essayed to gain some connected +story of the Magyar songbird's grave peril. + +But, the woman sobbing there was all too overcome for a connected +story. + +There was only death in the air--there was the open grave yawning +for the woman he loved, and the brightness had gone out of Randall +Clayton's life forever when, with white lips, he asked himself, +"Will we be in time? Irma! My God! Irma, my own darling!" + +He had only time to dismiss the carriage and drag Madame Raffoni +on the ferry-boat when the chains barred out a score of the rushing +crowd. + +Twenty minutes later, his heart beating a funeral knell, Randall +Clayton, portmanteau in hand, passed within the portals of the old +brownstone mansion. As the woman softly closed the door, which she +had opened with a pass-key, she laid her finger on her lip. + +Then Clayton, on tip-toe, stole softly after her into the darkened +chamber where a white-robed form lay motionless on the great canopied +bed. + + + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +THE STRANGE TUG'S VOYAGE. + + + + + +"Dead, dead, my darling!" almost shrieked Randall Clayton as he cast +himself down on his knees at the side of the woman whose faintly +fluttering eyelids alone told of the vital spark of life. The dark +eyes of Madame Raffoni gleamed pityingly as she drew the young man, +almost by force, away. + +With an agony of sudden terror she pointed to the hallway, and laid +her finger upon her lip. And then, in a hoarse whisper, the woman +told, in her patois, broken with sobs, of the alternate spells +of fainting and exhaustion which had brought Irma Gluyas nigh to +Death's door. + +The darkened rooms were closed, and the air redolent of the pungent +narcotic drugs of the sickroom. Utterly unmanned, Randolph Clayton +stole back to the old drawing-room, whose rich gilding and frescoed +beauties mocked the pale, silent face lying there below. + +Forgetting all prudence, he covered the limp, helpless hand with +burning kisses, gazing into the drooping eyes where he would fain +call back a glance of life and love. In this supreme moment she +belonged only to him, by right of his loyal love. In the arched +doorway of the library stood the timid woman messenger with her +hands pressed to her panting bosom. + +Suddenly Irma Gluyas opened her eyes and a faint murmur broke the +silence. + +"Go, go; for God's sake. They must not find you here. Go! FOR YOUR +LIFE!" Her head fell back, but her fingers were closed upon his +hand in a despairing clutch. Then Randall Clayton staggered to the +library window for breath of air. + +His heart was beating wildly. Was this the end of all. Life seemed +to have fled those beloved eyes; he could see Irma's motionless +form lying there, the very apotheosis of Love. He threw himself in +a chair, and his pent-up nature gave way at last. + +Mechanically he swallowed the glass of wine handed him by the watchful +Leah, and yet before she had stolen behind a curtained alcove the +room seemed to whirl around him. + +He made a last desperate effort to rise, but reeled around unsteadily +and then fell prone upon the tufted carpet. A danger signal had +aroused him at last, the sliding of heavy doors which cut off the +room where the Magyar witch lay now helpless in the stupor of the +criminal's deadliest narcotic. And the frightened Leah Einstein +fled away upstairs. She only divined Fritz Braun's purpose as an +intended robbery, or some audacious blackmail. Murder had never +entered her mind! + +The strong man lying there upon the floor, with glazing eyes, saw +in his last gasps a wolfish face lit up with the fires of hate +bending over him. Clayton struggled to draw the pistol which had +been his faithful guardian of years. + +One last flush of expiring reason showed him his life, honor, and +a future betrayed into the hands of nameless thugs. + +But there were sinews of iron in the arm of his unknown assailant +now throttling him. A hand of steel grasped his relaxing wrist and +the weapon was hurled far away. + +Standing there, a triumphant Moloch, the unmasked Hugo Landor +watched the last struggles of the man relapsed into a helpless +insensibility. "Fool, the powder in those cartridges was drawn +weeks ago," muttered "August Meyer," as he growled, "This first!" + +He seized upon the bank portmanteau and then disappeared for +a moment. Darting back, he dragged the prostrate form of Randall +Clayton out from the corner where it lay. + +With one mighty effort he raised the heavy body and stealthily +descended the stairway into the long-unused basement. + +Alone, in the darkened horrors of that grewsome cellar, the +triumphant criminal hastened to strip the body of the man whom he +had lured to a horrible death. + +The deadly poison in the drugged wine had killed the unfortunate +lover almost instantly. + +Braun hastened up the stairway with the plunder of the corpse, +and yet he paused a moment as three light taps resounded upon the +closed folding doors. "She is sound asleep; I cannot waken her +now," whispered Leah Einstein. "Then help me to carry her upstairs. +You must not leave her for an instant till I am done." + +Meyer sprang into the room, and in five minutes returned with a +grin upon his hardened face. "Leah is safely locked in the second +story. Fear will keep her mouth shut, and she can quiet the other +light-headed fool." + +The temporary eclipse of the gambling-rooms gave the disguised +criminal an opportunity to work in perfect safety. + +With lightning rapidity he had examined all the spoil of his victim's +pockets. A horrid silence had settled down over the deserted old +mansion. + +In his stocking feet the scoundrel stole down-stairs, and there +toiled alone, with the inanimate thing, once a stalwart man, lying +there helpless and prone in death before him. + +"The chloroform finished him!" muttered Meyer, as he sought fresh +air from an open grating leading into a sunken window opening. It +was in the old unused laundry-room that "Braun, the specialist," +hastily burned all Clayton's clothing in a long-idle furnace. +"His hat and shoes can go in with my trash; the pistol I can drop +overboard," murmured the cowardly wretch. He cast a callous glance +now and then at the body of his victim, cut off in the flower of +life and hope. + +"No body marks, no tell-tale finger rings; that's good," the crafty +villain mused. "He is stone dead now; he will need no watching," +was the brute's final verdict. + +And then he stole cat-like up the stairs to gloat over the contents +of the bank portmanteau. He hastily transferred the ill-gotten +fortune to a heavy black valise and, cutting the rifled portmanteau +in pieces, he sought the furnace-room once more. + +There was no sound in the rooms above as the villain toiled on, +but Leah Einstein, closeted there with the drugged woman who had +been used as a fatal decoy, could hear the sound of hammering below. +She fancied that Braun was preparing to escape, having removed +the dazed victim of the knock-out drops by the help of confederates +from the saloon. + +It was nearing sunset when Fritz Braun himself brought food and +wine to his frightened accomplice. + +He cast a searching glance upon the sleeping beauty and then said +roughly: "Eat and drink. You can surely trust me. The job's done. +The poor fool is miles away now, in a safe place." + +But Leah Einstein's pallid lips were silent. She was awed into +a stupor by the haunting presence of an unknown majesty. For the +King of Terrors ruled in the sickening atmosphere of the deserted +mansion house, and Leah feared only for herself now! Braun saw the +woman's helpless terror and so left her alone with her helpless +charge. "I won't need the useless fool to help me," he mused as he +stole away. + +A horrible suggestion seized upon him. "Why don't I make sure of +her?" In a few moments his nerve returned. + +"She saw nothing. She knows nothing. She thinks I only robbed him, +and she has a neck to save. She shall come to me--over there. But +Irma--she follows her lover, by and by." + +It was nine o'clock, the streets were dark and dismal, and a heavy +rain was falling, when a carriage drew up before No. 192 Layte +Street. + +The driver was huddled up in his oilskins and scarcely glanced +toward the muffled form of the woman who was tenderly assisted into +the vehicle by the sturdy Leah and her male companion. + +As the door closed, Fritz Braun sharply gave the driver his last +injunction. "Follow the express wagon down to Atlantic Basin. I +will ride on it." + +Standing on the steps, Braun saw the hackman drive a few doors +away into the shadows of the neighboring houses and halt awaiting +the baggage team. He tightly locked the door on the inside. + +"Lucky the front shop was closed for the holidays," he mused as +he made a last examination of the rooms above and below. There was +nothing left to betray him. + +"Leah is a cunning one," he gleefully said, as he slipped on the +well-remembered brown top coat of the "pharmacist," and adjusted +anew his false beard and goggles. He felt for Clayton's useless +pistol and placed it in his outside pocket. + +"Overboard you go, my friend, as soon as I reach the dock." Then +seizing his black valise, he passed out of the cellar entrance in +the rear and clambered upon the high seat of the great luggage van. + +"Where to?" gruffly demanded the waiting driver, who, with his +burly mate, was drenched with rain. + +"To the Atlantic Basin," sharply said Braun. "I've an extra ten +dollars in my pocket for you. It's a wild night." His only task +now was to rid himself of the stripped body of his victim, and he +had acted with a devilish ingenuity of forethought. + +Then, turning the corner of the "Valkyrie," Fritz Braun led the +way along to where a snub-nosed tug lay with her hissing steam +escaping, as she tossed up and down on the frothy waves of the +yacht mooring. + +The ringing of bells in the engine-room, the heavy trampling of +feet, aroused the helpless, half-dazed Irma Gluyas, as Fritz Braun +tenderly ordered the men to bear her into the little cabin. + +"Give her a spoonful of this mixture," significantly said Braun, +"I must look out for the luggage." + +With a delighted grin, the two expressmen received Fritz Braun's +liberal donation. + +"Happy voyage, boss," they screamed, as the stout little vessel +twisted around on her hawser and moved out on the blackened waters, +throwing the yeasty spray high up with the saucy thrusts of her +blunt bows. + +"Never mind that old trunk," cried Braun, as the sailors busied +themselves with throwing tarpaulins over the traveller's half dozen +boxes. + +It was a heavy package left dangerously near the gunwale of the +boat. Mr. Fritz Braun was in a fever of good humor. He had dropped +overboard something which glittered a moment as it disappeared under +the black surges of the freshening waves. The faithless pistol of +the dead cashier now lay twenty fathoms under the dark tide. + +While the tug's crew busied themselves with their duties and hastily +cast off the lines, the two women were crouching in the dingy cabin. + +Fritz Braun, his cigar gleaming out a red defiance, watched the +light of the Battery glide by him. He had taken a deep draught of +brandy as a final libation to Fortune. "What fools those brewery +fellows are," chuckled Braun. "They imagined that I was only dodging +a few unwelcome legal papers." + +"By Heavens! I have turned over a gold mine to them, and they won't +kick. If it had not been for my damned gambling craze I would have +had a cool hundred thousand more. + +"And they will surely keep the secret of 192 Layte Street, for they +wish to run their own 'joint' there. All they want is silence, to +change it a little, and no police interference. They are bound to +play my game to save themselves from police interference." + +The villain laughed aloud in his glee. "And Emil and Lilienthal, +even Timmins, know nothing. It has been a great stroke of nigger +luck. This fortune is safe. Now for the last touch." + +He groped his way aft to where the cheap heavy-looking package lay +with one side balanced upon the rail. It was a huge coarse packing +trunk. The crew were busied in watching the light of the South +Ferry and avoiding the floats and tugs groaning along in front of +Governor's Island. + +There was no one aft as the muscular scoundrel seized a handspike +and tilted the rough-looking packing trunk overboard. It sank +instantly, though Braun started as he fancied he heard a crash. +"If the propeller struck it, no matter," he growled. "There's a +hundred pounds of broken stairway irons lashed on him. And I will +soon be thousands of miles away." + +He shook the rain off like a burly water dog as he glanced in at +the cabin window of the tug. There was Irma Gluyas, lying sleeping +peacefully, with her head upon Leah Einstein's lap. + +"Safe enough," he muttered, as he sheltered himself under the +overhanging deck roof. + +But as the murderer's eye fell on the black valise, he smiled with +an infernal glee. "There it is landed--this prize--after months! + +"And they will think that the fool cleared out with it. Thank God! +Steward Heinrichs is on the 'Mesopotamia.' He will look out for +us; but if he knew what was in that valise I'd have to fight for +my life." + +The tug now swung around into the North River, and the driving +spray forced the absconding scoundrel into the Captain's little +stateroom. "How long now?" shouted Braun, in the whistling tempest. +"I'll have you alongside the 'Mesopotamia' in twenty minutes," +answered the skipper." The 'Falcon' is the fastest tug on the +Brooklyn front." + +He pushed out a black bottle, which Braun, in his character of +"jovial tourist," liberally sampled. "You take an expensive way of +getting to Hoboken," smilingly said Captain Jake Ashcroft. "Ah! My +wife has been very ill since the loss of our child," was Braun's +ready response. "So feeble that I did not dare to drag her across +New York. At least, she has some comfort in this way. Poor thing! +She is fast asleep! We have to give her sedatives; her nerves are +simply wrecked. I hope that a couple of years abroad will restore +her." + +Braun handed the Captain fifty dollars. "I have a five for your +crew," he said, good humoredly, "if we make a neat landing alongside." + +It was eleven o'clock when the stout tug ran alongside the +'Mesopotamia.' The old ex-liner was an "occasional" now, and all +ready to depart for Stettin. + +On Braun's hail, a burly chief steward descended the companionway, +with a half dozen assistants. + +In the pelting rain, Irma Gluyas, an unresisting bundle, was safely +borne by willing arms to the bridal stateroom of the huge steamer, +once the pride of the German merchant navy. + +The luggage was hastily hoisted on board, and Mr. August Meyer +heartily shook the Captain's hand. "Here's the men's beer money. +It has been a famous voyage," said the happy villain, as he personally +examined the tug's cabin. + +"Nothing left! So good-bye to you!" And away churned the tug, +dashing out into the midnight darkness, the red light gleaming like +the eye of some angry sea monster. + +In a couple of hours the creaking donkey-engines ceased their rattle, +and Mr. August Meyer bounded up the gang-plank of the "Mesopotamia." +A burly Hoboken hotel-keeper stood waving the solitary adieu to +the victorious murderer. + +They had seen Leah Einstein depart for New York City, her velvety +eyes glistening with joy, for Braun had, in the seclusion of the +Hoboken Hotel, handed her three five-hundred-dollar bills. + +A handful of small change was tossed to her as a last offering. +"Remember, Leah," whispered Braun. "The driver is paid, drink money +and all. Let him set you down on Fourth Avenue. Get home, dream +of me and of our happy meeting next spring. You have the address. +Never forget it. Don't even give it to the boy. And never trust it +to paper." + +"I'll not forget," cried the frightened woman, as she clung to +him in her frenzied "Good bye. You'll take care of me!" "For your +whole life," answered Braun. "You need me, and I need you. I'll +soon get rid of this baby-faced fool! She actually loved that +fellow, damn him! But she will remember nothing. She was too well +doped. The knock-out drops muddled her; but he went down like +a log. And he is disposed of! All you have to do is to keep your +mouth shut forever. I will make you rich." + +As Leah clung to her partner in crime, Fritz Braun gave her +a handful of gold--his last peace offering. "Never go back again +to Brooklyn," he hoarsely whispered. "Remember, and keep ready to +come to me." + +Braun stood alone on the deck of the "Mesopotamia" as the huge +bulk slowly swung around and gathered headway. The yellow lights +of Hoboken gleamed out faintly to the right, and to the left New +York's irregular skyline was lit up with a lurid reflected glow. + +But he shuddered as he saw the airy line of the arch of Brooklyn +Bridge and the gleaming beacons below, where vice and virtue, +craft and candor, stupid drudge and lazy child of luxury had all +forgotten the cares of the weary day. + +He started in alarm as the hoarse siren of the "Mesopotamia" +screamed out its bellowing note of departure. + +A spasm of rage shook his trembling frame. He challenged some dark +spectre seemingly floating on the midnight winds. "Down, down," he +growled. "You are gone forever, under the black waters. Never to +rise, and there's not a weak joint in my armor. I defy the very +devil himself! With Heinrich's help I can evade all customs' search +at Stettin; a few thalers will fix that. The whole New York lot +are powerless; and as for Leah, poor devil, love will keep her +faithful, fear will lock her tongue, even if she wished to speak." + +Stealing down the stairs, he went into Irma Gluyas' superb room. A +jaded stewardess sat watching faithfully over the sleeping woman. +He touched her arm. "I will fill your purse for you," he kindly +said. "See that my wife wants nothing. You must watch her like a +child. + +"She is sadly broken in health. Don't mind her babblings!" He +touched his forehead significantly. + +He had already carefully bestowed his valise of treasure under the +cosy lounge berth by the great portholes, and his rugs and wraps +covered it. + +Leaving the ox-eyed woman there on watch, Fritz Braun hastened to +join the steward, an old friend of the days of the pharmacy and +its secret international smuggling trade. He had tossed his false +beard overboard and tied a sea-cap with ear-flaps upon his head. +"Just as well to drop 'Fritz Braun' forever now," he laughed. "'Mr. +August Meyer' has his passports in his pockets! So, here's for a +new life. I am born to a new name and safe, even in Germany." + +It was only when Sandy Hook light was far astern that August Meyer +gave up the wild potations which even astounded Heinrichs. "One +doesn't go away on a vacation every day," joyfully cried August +Meyer. "One more bottle of the Frenchman's sparkling wine, and then +to turn in and wake far out on blue water!" The fool, safe in his +own conceit, forgot the curse of Cain branded upon him now. But +the vengeance of God was following him out on the dark waters! + +The lonely gulls, screaming and soaring at daybreak, skimming the +waters of New York Bay, dipping and struggling over each bit of +flotsam, rested upon the fragments of a broken trunk floating idly +along upon the sunlit waters. + +There was nothing to indicate the previous contents of the package +which had been shattered by the screw of a passing vessel; there +was neither mark nor token of its past history. + +And so it floated idly up and down, borne hither and thither by +the veering tides, while far below, on the ooze, the heavy irons +still weighted down the corpse of the man who had been lured to +his death by the noblest impulses of the human heart. + +And the sun came gaily up, upon the day of repose, God's own +appointed day of rest, the glittering beams played upon the closed +windows of the stately old mansion, where nothing remained to +tell of a "deed without a name" save a heap of dead ashes in the +blackened grate of the laundry furnace. The pathway of the criminal +seemed covered to all mortal eyes. + +The cautious patrons of the "Valkyrie," stealing in by the side +entrances, talked in whispers of the re-opening of the pool-room, +and the sleeping "blind tiger." + +"Come around any evening next week, after the Fourth," was the message +given to the "safe" patrons, "and we will be happy to accommodate +you." + +There was no human being in the offices of the Western Trading +Company save the janitor, busy at his semi-annual clean-up, and the +Monday holiday approached with no suspicion of Randall Clayton's +disappearance. + +"All New York" had hied "out of town" with its usual unpatriotic +snobbishness, and only the attendants of Mr. Randall Clayton's +rooms noted his absence. + +"Singular young fellow," said the janitor to his sturdy wife. +"Comes and goes like a ghost; no friends, and has no life of his +own. Good-looking young fellow, too. Ought to have a wife and family +around him. + +"It's the old story: hotel and flat life are crowding out the American +family. Men and women live on the single, and prey on each other. +One half are sharks, and the other half are their victims!" + +But there were two persons in New York City who now feared to +approach each other. Emil Einstein, after a whispered conference +with his pale-faced mother in her shabby den on the East Side, +hastily called a wagon and transported all his slender effects +to the little room in rear of Magdal's Pharmacy, where the bogus +doctor had had his Sunday conferences with his bibulous patrons--the +regular "sick people"--sick of a thirst, beginning officially with +Saturday midnight and ending, providentially, on Monday morning. + +Bob Timmins and Emil Einstein were already secret allies and the +Don Juans of a coterie of haphazard Sixth Avenue beauties. There +was a usefulness to both in the new alliance, and Einstein was +already the destined secret patron of the degraded Timmins. + +"It's a good shelter for me," mused the adroit Hebrew, "but I'll +never tell him a word of the old man." + +The parting between Leah and her hopeful son had been a wild access +of maternal tenderness. "You see, I've got to," growled the boy. +"You don't want to go to the chair, or get into Sing Sing, if this +fellow Clayton turns up a stiff. I don't know what the 'old man' +was up to. + +"You do! And I don't ever want to! The only way we can meet is once +a week in the crowd around the Germania Theater on Astor Place. + +"I'll come there afternoon or evening each Saturday, and hang around +till I see you. You can take a seat in the theater. I'll go up in +the gallery, and nobody will drop on us. If any one asks for me, +say I've gone away by myself to room. That I'm going to be married." + +"And at the business?" timidly sobbed Leah. "Oh! I've got to stay +on there," the boy stoutly answered. "I know nothing; just keep a +shut mouth. There'll be hell to pay now. Remember, don't you ever +dare to look me up. If you should be sick, send word to Ben Timmins +at the Magdal Pharmacy. He will give me the message, and then I'll +find a safe way to see you. It's a life and death matter, remember." + +The boy was eager to get away, for he feared his mother's plaint +for money. He knew nothing of the three five-hundred-dollar bills +now sewed up in the buxom Leah's corset. + +"If they've buncoed him or done him up, there'll be a great run! +Holy Moses! The papers!" Emil Einstein fled away from the wrath +to come, and, even in his high-rolling evening hours with Timmins +that night he trembled. + +For he had slyly gone to Mr. Randall Clayton's apartments. The +old janitor of the apartment-house met him with an anxious face. +"Here's Mr. Ferris, back from the West, hunting Mr. Clayton all +over town. They were to dine together. Where is he?" + +The startled boy lied glibly, after the fashion of New York office +boys. "I don't know. Gone off on some trip, I suppose. He sent me +away on an errand yesterday, and I didn't get my week's salary. +I suppose that he has it. The pay clerk always gives it to him. +That's what I came for." + +And then, whistling a rakish air, but with a nameless terror in his +heart, Emil Einstein hied himself off to Magdal's as a safe haven. + +There was not a human being in all Manhattan who had seen Mr. Randall +Clayton on his hasty departure, save the smart-faced policeman, +Dennis McNerney, who had noted Clayton put the hesitating Leah +Einstein into the carriage on University Place. + +"Something new for him," smilingly thought the policeman. "But he's +not beauty hunting; that's no charmer. Looks more like somebody's +housekeeper." + +And yet, shake it off as he would, the guardian of the peace recalled +that night that he had seen the woman lingering in conversation with +one of the Western Trading Company's office boys, as he made his +circuit of the block. "It is a little singular, this new departure." + +With a smile he dismissed the suspense, murmuring "Young men all +have their little 'side issues.' Half New York would go crazy if +it knew what the other half does, and how they dodge each other, +God alone knows." + +It was merry enough in Magdal's Pharmacy that Fourth of July night, +while Arthur Ferris, rage in his heart, at last descended at Robert +Wade's mansion and spent the evening with that sly old financier. +He dared not bring up Clayton's name, for Mr. Robert Wade was now +his inferior, and all ignorant of the dark bond between Worthington +and his unacknowledged son-in-law. + +But in the pharmacy Einstein hazarded a test question. "Where's +the old man, Ben?" + +"Took one of the cheap Saturday afternoon boats from Hoboken for +the other side," said Ben, handing Miss Daisy Vivian a "slight +refreshment." + +"Go alone?" said the curious Emil. + +"Certainly," smartly said Timmins. "He is too mean to pay a woman's +passage over the ferry, much less to the Old Country!" + +Whereat, in the general laugh, the frightened Emil gladly observed +that Timmins really knew nothing. + +They were both, however, on their guard when the oily face of Adolph +Lilienthal suddenly appeared at the soda fountain. + +The picture-dealer's crafty face shone with a benevolent smile +as he said to Timmins, "I've mislaid Mr. Braun's address, the last +one he gave me!" The two young men exchanged startled glances, but +Timmins resolutely answered, "You must find it out for yourself. +The boss didn't even tell me what steamer he sailed on. I was to +see you about all." + +And finally Adolph Lilienthal retired crestfallen. He dared not +admit to the clerk the quarrel which had left him in Braun's power. +"You'll have a letter surely, from him in a week or so," smoothly +answered the cockney, finally. + +And then the owner of the Newport Art Gallery sadly departed. + +"I am in his power," he musingly said. "He knows all about me; and +I nothing of him. He is a fiend, that fellow; and he will perhaps +keep clear of my friends on the other side. He is too smart to +commit himself." The only clue possible lay in watching the doltish +London clerk. And on his way home the picture-dealer gave that up +as hopeless. "Braun would never trust that fool. He's only a human +sponge, a confirmed soak." + +Far out on the waters the "Mesopotamia" was plowing along, the blue +water curling merrily away from her bows. Mr. August Meyer, blithe +and light-hearted, gaily waved his cigar in answer to the lights +of a passing steamer bound homeward. "My compliments to Mr. Randall +Clayton!" he laughed, as he strode along the quarter deck, the only +cabin passenger. "We have given Fate a clean pair of heels. I defy +the Devil to touch me now. It was simply to hold the bag open. +That fool ran his head into it. The stroke of a lifetime! + +"God! What a row there'll be; but it will take a month to find out +that he has not skipped. I will be in hiding; but to-morrow I must +face this Magyar fool. What shall I tell her?" + +Mr. August Meyer tramped the deck alone until he hit upon a plausible +explanation of the awakening which would arouse the Magyar songbird's +gravest suspicions. "When she awakes and finds herself far out at +sea, there will be a devil of a racket, unless I can find a way +to control her. Should she denounce me, I might be detained by the +Captain, subject to an examination. And the money; it would have +to go overboard or else I would go to the electric chair." + +He gave up his surest way of stopping the unruly woman's mouth. "No!" +he mused. "That would never do here--on shipboard. The steward, +old Heinrichs, is too smart for all that. I must get her away into +some lonely place abroad. For only in that way can I hide Clayton's +fate from her. They never reprint American news in Poland or Eastern +Prussia and Silesia. Perhaps Russia will hide me. First, to quiet +her; next, to make the money safe; lastly, to get rid of her." + +But friendly devils aided him with adroit whispers. His brow was +unruffled as he bade his carousing chum, the steward, adieu at +midnight. The good ship dashed merrily on breasting the Atlantic +waves. + +It was long after eight bells the next morning when Irma Gluyas +slowly opened her eyes and wonderingly gazed at her tyrant master +watching her with steadfast eyes. Neither spoke until the pale-faced +woman realized the onward motion of the sturdy old liner, and her +deep-set eyes had wandered over the nautical surroundings. Then +she buried her face in her hands and a flood of stormy sorrow shook +her frame. + +The acute-minded Fritz Braun knew that he had her at his mercy, for +the regulated doses of the narcotic had brought about a profound +reaction. Helplessness, coma, stupor, hallucination, dejection; +she had passed through every phase. + +Turning her wan face toward him at last, the singer, in a hollow +voice, curtly said, "Explain all this!" There was a glance in +her recklessly brave eyes which made the soi disant August Meyer +relapse into a whining tenderness. "The high hand won't do here," +he quickly resolved. + +"You have been ill, my poor comrade," he tenderly said. "It's all +right now. That thunder-storm drove you frantic; you had a heart +seizure, and I had all I could do to get you away from New York +in secret." The woman eyed him doubtfully. "Whither are we going?" +she resolutely asked. "To any safe retreat in north eastern Europe +you choose," coaxingly replied Braun. + +"Why?" demanded Irma, raising herself on one arm and pointing an +accusing finger. "If you have broken your oath, God forgive you! +It's your life or mine, then!" + +"She does love him," was Braun's inward comment. "Stop your high +dramatic play-acting," soberly said Braun, holding a glass of +Tokayer to her lips. "Lilienthal was pounced down upon for smuggling +phenacetine. My own drug-store was searched. Thank God! none was +found there. He gave bail, the honest fellow managed to telegraph +me the agreed-on tip. I was watching over you in Brooklyn. + +"I bundled you in a carriage, as you were so ill, caught a tug, ran +around to Hoboken, reached this ship just as it sailed! He knows +not who betrayed him, but the staunch old boy got five thousand +dollars to me, and the 'brotherhood' over here will take care of +me. + +"I will lie by in hiding for a season, and I can send the usual +goods in by Norwegian tramp steamers. I have a square friend on +board here, the head steward, one of the Baltic smuggling gang's +best men. So, my dear girl, look your prettiest when we land in +Stettin." + +It was only by a grand effort of will that he faced her coldly +searching gaze. "And Clayton; what was your hidden purpose with +him, you devil?" she boldly said, but half convinced by his smooth +story. "I may as well let the cat out of the bag," laughed Braun, +taking a deep draught of the golden wine. + +"I wanted to lure him over to Brooklyn and let him fool his time +away with you from Saturday to Tuesday morning. I intended you to +lead him a will-o'-the-wisp dance out on Long Island. For Lilienthal +and I had learned from the office boy that a quarter of a million +would be locked up in the Trading Company's vaults. only guarded +by the janitor and the special policeman. The janitor was with +us, that devil of a boy got us the combination, bit by bit; but +you went out of your head after the storm, and Lilienthal was half +betrayed by a drunken underling in our smuggling company. I had +to clear out. I could not leave you to starve. It's the fifth of +July, and we sailed the third. I lost the chance of my life!" + +"You swear this is true!" murmured Irma. Braun bowed his head. "I +will only believe it," she said, "when I have a letter from Clayton. +I love him. I would die for him. God help him; he would marry me!" +She was astounded when Braun said, kindly, "All in due time. You +shall have your letter through Emil. The boy is one of our gang!" + + + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE LIGHTNING STROKE OF FATE. + + + + + +While the "Mesopotamia" skimmed along over the crisp, curling seas +upon this sunlit Tuesday morning, she bore onward a man whose breast +was now filled with a vague unrest. The robust passenger known +as "Mr. August Meyer" was unusually jovial at breakfast, when he +informed the bluff Captain that Mrs. Meyer was rapidly recovering +and would soon be able "to grace the deck," in the language of the +society journals. + +The absconding murderer was delighted that Irma and himself were +the only first-class passengers, although accommodations for fifty +had been retained in making a "freighter" of the one-time "record +liner." + +Leaving Irma, at her wish, to dream of a future meeting with Clayton, +Fritz Braun was left free to retire to his own capacious cabin. + +"Take the whole twenty staterooms," cried the jolly old skipper, +highly propitiated with Braun's wine-opening and the druggist's +superb cigars. And this Tuesday afternoon Braun proposed to devote +to a careful examination of his rich plunder. + +As yet he had not verified the whole stolen treasure. When all +his own luggage was arranged in his own double room, he carefully +threw overboard all of the murdered cashier's private articles. +The hat and shoes, which he had feared to burn, were cast into +the foaming wake of the vessel, and even the veriest trifle of the +contents of the deceived lover's pockets. + +Braun, greedy at heart, shut his eyes as he tossed the watch-chain +and locket overboard, and even the scarf-pin, links and studs of +the victim. It was an hour after he had locked himself in when he +threw over the last shred of paper and the emptied pocketbook and +purse. + +Braun smiled grimly as he carefully transferred to his wallet the +double-month's pay which had been handed to the cashier by accountant +Somers when he hastened away on his furlough. + +"Nearly seven hundred dollars," laughed Braun. "My dead friend pays +my way over." There was, moreover, a few dollars in change in the +purse, which was tossed away to follow the other tell-tale objects, +after Braun had extracted Somers' test slip of the deposits. It +brought a frenzy of joy to the murderer's heart to read the lines, +"Currency, $150,000; cheques, $98,975." + +He smiled grimly. "The last thing which could betray me is overboard. +I'm safe now! No fool to be caught, even by a tell-tale ring!" He +had hurled poor Clayton's college pin and seal ring far out into +the sapphire blue, and then resolutely screwed up the porthole. + +"Now to see if my cashier's tag lies!" + +Braun stopped, with his hand on the straps of his valise, a glooming +foreboding seized him. "I must watch this devilish woman! She was +far too placid. She has not swallowed all my story. If she should +try to cable, or to communicate." He paused, and the cold sweat +gathered upon his brow. "I'll closely watch her. I'll rush her +through Stettin. I'll hide her in some little hole on the Polish +frontier. If she tries to follow up her mad love for this fellow, +I'll finish her." + +Already he looked forward with longing to the time when he could +safely call Leah Einstein to his side. "She will be true as a dog +to me, poor wretch! And I must get Irma out of the way. Perhaps +in some Polish marsh; they would not find her bones. There's the +wolves, too. + +"But, my lady, you are only sleeping with one eye shut. Your first +false movement means"--He gloomily ceased, and then feasted his eyes +on the green bundles in the common-looking valise. "I am a prince +for life," he murmured, "if I can realize on these cheques." He +opened a bundle; they were all flat endorsements. + +"About half of these are good anywhere," he mused. "Our gang can +handle them; and for the others, we may get a reward to return them +later," he grimly smiled. + +But as he busied himself, the inscrutable face of Irma Gluyas +returned to madden him. + +"She does suspect!" he growled. "She only plays policy because she +is in my power. Never mind, my lady; you are knitting up your own +shroud." + +Seven hundred and fifty miles away, the streets of New York City +were filled with the refluent crowd of holiday absentees. The +great Babel had again taken up its round of toil and pleasure, its +burden of care and crime, its chase for the bubble "reputation," +its hunting away of the urban wolf from the door. + +In inverse order of importance, the shutters had come down, the +toiler had been out, dinner-pail in hand, for hours, when Milady +yawned over her morning coffee and the magnates of finance appeared +in their triumphal procession down Broadway to Wall Street. + +There was a careworn look on Arthur Ferris' brow as he sprang out +of a coupe at Randall Clayton's deserted apartments at nine-thirty. +He had sullenly enjoyed Mr. Robert Wade's Fourth of July cheer, +his mind haunted with Randall Clayton's strange breach of social +faith. In vain he reassured himself. "He could not know where +to reach me with a 'phone or a wire," and his agitation increased +when the house janitor gravely said, "Mr. Clayton has not been here +since Saturday morning, sir. It's very strange. He took no travel +bag with him. I just took a peep at the room. The bed's not been +slept in, and here's a lot of mail. He's most regular. + +"May be sick somewhere, sir. He looked very strange when he went +out Saturday. He'd been up in the night. I heard him moving around +very late." + +"Let no one open the room till I return," sharply ordered Ferris, +and he then started his coupe off on the run for the Western Trading +Company's office. Bidding the man wait below, Arthur Ferris took +the elevator and, darting along the hall, smartly rapped at Randall +Clayton's door. It was locked, but the agile Einstein was at once +at his beck and call. "Mr. Clayton's not down yet. I fear he's +ill, sir," respectfully said the lad. "Here's all his office mail +in the ante-room." + +Arthur Ferris sharply ordered the lad to watch over the closed +rooms. "Let no one open those rooms," he said. "You'll find me in +Mr. Wade's private office. Let me know the very instant Mr. Clayton +arrives." + +Ferris at once rang on Mr. Robert Wade's private telephone, and was +relieved when he learned that the manager had just left his Fifth +Avenue home for the office. There was a crowd of the senior employees +waiting around the door to congratulate the new vice-president, when +old Edward Somers tottered in, his face ashen with fright. Ferris +dropped the telephone ear-cup and sprang forward. + +"Speak! What's gone wrong?" he cried. He feared to learn that within +that locked office the moody Clayton lay cold in death--a suicide. + +But the old accountant only raised his head and babbled, "There's +something gone wrong with Mr. Clayton. The bank has just sent me +a messenger." + +"Our Saturday deposit never reached the bank! He's in there now. +Oh! My God!" + +Rapidly turning on the District call for the police, Ferris darted +into Secretary Edson's room. + +"Wallace," he cried, "take two of your best men; get pistols. Shut +the offices! Let no one leave! There's been a gigantic robbery +here; perhaps a murder!" + +Wallace Edson sprang up, brave and resolute, as Ferris dashed back +to the broken old man. + +"How much?" he sharply demanded. "Nearly a quarter of a million!" +the old accountant faltered. + +"Where's the bank-book?" cried Ferris, his presence of mind +returning. + +"Clayton has it," the bookkeeper sadly said. + +Opening a door, Arthur Ferris called in the treasurer. Frank Bell, +jolly and debonnair, had just returned from "no end of a good +time." + +"Look out for Somers, here," he ordered. "There's been a great +disaster. Let no one speak to him." And then the young vice-president +went out to meet the arriving police. + +Mr. Robert Wade, slowly pacing along Fourteenth Street, had stopped +to whisper a few words in Lilienthal's attentive ear. There was +a delectable "private view" which was arranged for two o'clock on +this happy afternoon. + +As the smug "dealer" bowed, his mind reverted to Mr. Wade's handsome +employee, Randall Clayton, and then the picture episode, and the +entrancing Magyar witch. + +"I wonder, now," mused Lilienthal, "if young Clayton stole that +pretty devil away from Fritz Braun! Braun was really crazy over +her, it seems, and he, the black-hearted wretch, has gone over to +Europe to hunt for her. The pretty minx may be in hiding somewhere +up on the West Side, with Clayton. And yet I never saw or heard +of them together again. It may be he only wanted the picture, not +the woman!" + +Mr. Lilienthal's laughter at his own joke was cut short by the racing +past of four policemen and two detectives. He was still standing +gaping in wonder when Robert Wade forced his way into his own office +and found all in an uproar. + +Only Arthur Ferris was cool and collected, as he stationed the +police and called two stenographers into the room where old Somers +and Emil Einstein awaited the opening of an inquisition. + +"There's been a robbery of a quarter of a million of our company's +funds, Wade," sharply cried Ferris. "We want to find out where +Clayton is. Take hold now and get these men's statements. I'll bring +in the bank messenger, and then try and hold Hugh Worthington on +the telegraph. The Chief should be even now nearing Cheyenne." + +Ferris grasped Einstein's arm and drew him out of the room, as +Wade pompously began his Jupiter-like procedure. "I'll send for +the detective captain, and the Fidelity Company's people," said +Ferris; but he dragged Einstein into a vacant room. "You can open +his office, you young devil?" he whispered. + +"Yes; side door key," said Einstein, conscious now of a protecting +friend. + +"Get me in there, quick!" said Ferris, his eyes aflame. In a few +moments they stood in the vacant room. Ferris pointed to the desk. + +"Remember what you told me!" he sternly murmured. And as the lad +drew out his stolen key, Ferris watched the roll-top desk slide +open. He grasped the bundle of telegrams and lone papers on the +pad, and motioned for the trembling boy to lock it. + +Then, darting back into the ante-room, he dashed off two telegrams, +the first addressed to his secret partner at Cheyenne, and the +other to his wife in fact, but not name, "Miss Alice Worthington, +Palace Hotel, Tacoma." + +"Not a word of this to any one; I'll pay you," said Ferris, as +he stuffed the papers in his pocket and rang for a telegraph boy. +"Come in, now, and tell your story--all but this!" + +Holding the shivering lad while he sent a brace of messengers for +the detective chief and the Fidelity Company's expert, Arthur Ferris +muttered, "Is it murder or a daring robbery? Is it flight? Has he +discovered his rights and robbed Peter to pay Paul? Old Hugh must +come, and until then, silence!" + +When the noonday sun burned down upon Manhattan Island, a thousand +offices had received the message: + +"Look out for Randall Clayton, absconding cashier of the Western +Trading Company. Age 28, height 5 feet 11 inches; gray eyes, brown +hair, well built, weight about 170; speaks French and some German; +born Detroit; slight Western accent. Missing since Saturday noon, +July 2, with $150,000 currency and $100,000 endorsed cheques. Watch +all trains and steamers. Photographs by mail to-morrow. Presumably +alive; no woman in the case." + +And in the spacious rooms of the Western Trading Company the +usual business was now moving on, while a detective sat on guard +in Clayton's office, and another in his deserted rooms, where the +Danube picture smiled down upon the callous stranger, who murmured, +"The old story, 'Cards, women, the Tenderloin, Wall Street, and +fast life!' Another man gone to hell with his eyes open." + +But in the mob of reporters now filling the affable treasurer's +room there was the ball of angry contention tossed vigorously too +and fro. + +Reporter Snooks of the Earth coldly bluffed Sears of the Ledger +with a bet, "Two to one on his skipping out; even money on a murder; +even money on a bunco." + +And so "lightly they spoke" of the man who had yielded up his +unstained honor in a mad chivalry for the sake of a woman whose +love had innocently led him to a horrible taking off! + +Within the manager's room, the preliminary inquisition was rapidly +moving on. Arthur Ferris, with burning eyes gazing intently as each +word fell from the lips of the frightened witnesses. + +It was while this drama was being played that the "Fuerst Bismarck" +swept grandly up the North River, and the returning lawyer tourist, +Jack Witherspoon, hastened up town, eager to meet his client. + +"I will prospect a little," mused the cautious Witherspoon, as he +registered at the Hoffman House. "Somebody may know me; and no +human being must see Clayton and I together in New York! One chance +spy and Hugh Worthington would be on his defense, and I would then +lose my place in a jiffy and all power to make him disgorge." + +He was pondering over the best way to reach Clayton, and had just +decided to wait after dark at the rooms for his old class-mate, +when he remembered the annual election. + +"By Jove!" mused Witherspoon, now burning to with Francine Delacroix's +dowry from the enemy. + +"Ferris will surely be nosing around here. I must not show myself +at Clayton's rooms. There are two ways: one to call him by telephone, +and the other is to telegraph to the Detroit Club and have the +Secretary then telegraph to Clayton to call at once at Room 586, +Hoffman, on 'Alpha Delta Phi' business. They might have a clerk on +at the telephone over at the office. and if I was asked who wants +Mr. Clayton, I might be trapped." + +He suddenly remembered his last agreement with his prospective +client, that if anything unforeseen occurred, Clayton would write +or telegraph to his comrade at the Detroit Club, and so, Witherspoon +added a few words of direction to the secretary, to his request +that Clayton be bidden to an "Alpha Delta Phi" secret reunion at +Room 586, Hoffman. + +Witherspoon had already purchased a week's file of the New York +journals in order to follow up the financial columns, and was +moving toward the elevator from the telegraph stand, when a boy +thrust an extra into his hand. + +"Heavy Robbery by Absconding Cashier! Randall Clayton Lets the +Western Trading Company in for a Quarter of a Million. Another Case +of a Double Life!" + +With a supreme effort the Detroit lawyer mastered himself and +sought the seclusion of his room. In ten minutes he had recovered +his legal acumen. The two columns of the extra gave a list of +the new officers of the company, and the statement that Mr. Hugh +Worthington was at Tacoma with his invalid daughter, was supplemented +by the statement that Arthur Ferris of Heath & Ferris, 105 Broad +Street (the recently elected vice-president), was in charge of the +whole situation. + +When Jack Witherspoon had cooled his heated brows, he swore a deep +and mighty oath of vengeance. "I don't believe a word of this +whole rot," he stoutly said to himself. "Either Clayton has been +frightened off, and is waiting for me near Detroit, or they have +trapped him in some way. Something has brought things to a crisis. +And yet, I must handle Mr. Arthur Ferris with velvet gloves!" + +He reflected now upon the imprudence of his registration at the +Hoffman. The railroad attorneyship had brought him in close contact +with Ferris. "I must go around there and show up at once! They +would surely see my arrival in the papers!" + +He had just finished his professional toilet when a telegram was +brought to his door. He tore it open with a wild anxiety. + +"No news of friend here. Have sent dispatch as agreed. There is +sealed box of valuables here for you, deposited a month ago by your +friend; sent by special express commission. Telegraph your directions." + +He sought the telegraph office and wired orders to have the deposit +instantly expressed to him, at Adams & Co.'s general office. "Take +receipt in my name for twenty-five thousand dollars' value," was +his last prudent order. + +And then, jumping into a coupé, he departed for the Western Trading +Company's office. "They will have the telegram," thought Witherspoon. +"Thank God! Ferris is a Columbia College man, and no member of our +'frat.' I can tell him that some of our New York chapter proposed +to celebrate my return, unknown to me. There's Doctor Billy Atwater. +I must look him up to-night. I can leave him here on guard while +I go and face Hugh Worthington. Either Hugh or Ferris has put up +this job!" + +Suddenly an awful thought came to him. + +"My God! Have they made away with him?" + +He saw his course plainly now. The untiring pursuit of the wolf, +the silence of the crouching panther! + +"Never!" he proudly declared in his heart. "Randall Clayton a thief! +Never! I will be the second shadow of Mr. Arthur Ferris. If any +one has the key of this mystery, he has. Clayton never went away +willingly. It would be his ruin for life to let his name be blackened. +And, the money! Who has it?" + +The prominence of Mr. John Witherspoon as the Detroit counsel of +the Trading Company's great syndicate carrying agents insured his +instant admission to the general manager's room. There was a sober +gathering of a dozen magnates, and Arthur Ferris sprang up, somewhat +disconcerted, when he saw Witherspoon's anxious face. + +The young vice-president left the detective captain, Manager Wade, +the haggard old Somers, and two great lawyers, and drew Witherspoon +away into Randall Clayton's deserted rooms. + +"Where did you drop from?" curtly demanded Ferris. "I've been some +months in Europe," simply said Witherspoon, now wearing the oily +mask of his profession. "I arrived on the 'Fuerst Bismarck' to-day, +and was going to take to-night's train West. But some fellows of +my college 'frat' had fixed up a 'surprise banquet' for me at the +Hoffman. + +"So, after all they had to tell me to hold me over, I was just +opening my accumulated mail, when by accident I picked up an extra. +I thought poor Clayton was away on a summer vacation." + +"He's away on a devilish long one!" snarled Ferris. "Took French +leave with a quarter of a million. Who, in God's name, would have +taken him for a thief!" The mournful ring of Ferris' voice almost +deceived his secret adversary; but Ferris was, in secret, pondering +over the Detroit dispatch to the absent Clayton, which he had opened +and secreted. + +"This man knows nothing," decided the wary Ferris, for Witherspoon's +face was frankness itself. + +Jack looked around at two men vigorously working away at a huge +safe standing in the corner. "They're now opening Clayton's safe," +bitterly said Ferris. "Of course, there will be nothing found +there. No! It's either a case of secret gambling, mad Wall Street +plunging, or a crazy woman intrigue." + +"What do the detectives say?" soberly queried the Detroit lawyer. +"Case of sharp thief, got three days' start of us by clearing +out Saturday at eleven. I've suspended that old fool, Somers, for +trusting such a deposit to one man alone! It's a crushing disgrace +to the New York management. I shall sweep it all away as soon as +I can get Hugh's orders. I'll take charge myself, now! + +"I suppose you go on to Detroit at once. We are readjusting our +whole freight schedules!" + +"Yes," gravely said Witherspoon, "unless I can help you here. I'll +telegraph my people at once. Will you telegraph Hugh and see if he +might need me here? I suppose he will come on at once." + +"I can hardly say," replied Ferris, caught off his guard. "He was +to have met Clayton to-day, in Cheyenne!" + +In an instant Ferris regretted the lapse, and hastily added, "Of +course, you might wait a couple of days. Worthington can give +you his ideas, and then you can save time in closing the railroad +deal. Old Hugh has a clear majority of our stock now." + +Though Witherspoon had instantly grasped the significance of Ferris' +dropped hint, he stilled his beating heart. "What have you done +with Clayton's rooms?" he quietly said. "You had an apartment with +him. You should search it." + +Ferris started. "By Jove! Yes! I forgot all about that. I've two +men watching them now." + +After a short pause, Witherspoon said calmly, "There may be some +sudden sickness, some accident in the country, some mysterious +happening. His rooms should be carefully examined." + +"You are right," answered Ferris, "and I have my duplicate keys. +Let us drive up there, you and I; we will take a look and then seal +them up till the detectives examine them. We are getting at facts +here; we are awaiting now to hear from Hugh. As you knew Clayton +at college, I'd like to have you represent the fair thing at the +searching of the rooms, particularly as I lived with him. But he +has not been there since Saturday morning, and the money is gone. +That tells the whole story. It's impossible to keep it quiet now, +and I wash my hands of the whole thing. It occurred three days +before I took charge." + +The two young men silently made their way to the street. As they +seated themselves in the first carriage they saw idle, Witherspoon +calmly remarked, "If I know Worthington's mind, he will make very +radical changes here now. Do you suspect any collusion?" + +Ferris shook his head. "Poor old Somers has Clayton's tag receipts +for the currency and cheques as usual. I'm sorry for the old +man. We'll retire him, at any rate, pension or no pension. It was +Wade's silly system, to trace all our money down with two sets of +custodians, and then send it to bank by ONE man!" + +"You don't think Clayton can have been made away with? Followed +by those who have accidentally dropped on his secrets, or some one +informed by some member of your office staff?" + +"No; that's all far-fetched and speculative," gruffly said Ferris. +"But the whole damned lot, from old Wade down, are under secret +espionage now. I ordered that on at once. Besides, the Fidelity +Company have their own people at work." + +"Ah! There was a bond?" questioned Witherspoon. "Fifty thousand, +only," growled Ferris, "and they probably will only pay a half. +They'll make us prove our loss in open court, and you know we don't +care to haul out our books. But the recovery goes really to old +Hugh; he paid all the dues on Clayton's bond." + +They halted in a watchful silence at the fashionable apartment-house, +and Ferris, calling the janitor as a witness, using his own keys, +opened the vacant rooms. At the door he paused to give a few sharp +directions to the watchers, and so Jack Witherspoon stepped into +the room first. By a mere accident he felt a small object under +his foot, and then quickly secured it in his hand, having carelessly +dropped his hat. He felt a little card-case in the hand which +remained thrust idly in his pocket. + +Together the two young men searched every corner of the double +apartment. The careful housewife's summer shroudings of Ferris' +rooms were still undisturbed. + +As for Clayton's apartment, it was left in the careless disorder of +a young man about town. "I will touch nothing," said Ferris, awed +into a dismal silence. Jack Witherspoon keenly followed Ferris' +every movement. There was nothing to indicate any idea of departure. + +Even Clayton's trunk-keys were in the scattered packages in the +ante-rooms. The closets, dressers, and wardrobes showed no gap, as +the young men explored. + +"That's the only new thing I see--that picture," casually said +Ferris, pointing to the Danube view. "I never saw that before, and +he was not much of an art collector." + +A sharp knock on the door drew Ferris to the door, where an office +clerk awaited him with a telegram. Witherspoon still stood eying +the picture, when Ferris said, "Look out for things here. I've got +to answer a telegram. Hugh is not at Cheyenne. I must call him at +Tacoma. Alice can forward the dispatch." + +Left alone in the room, Jack Witherspoon redoubled his energies, +knowing that he might never see the interior again. Ferris' remark +about the picture had strangely attracted his attention. "That +means something," mused the excited Jack. His hand was on a closet +door, and by a strange impulse he opened it quickly. A picture-case +of heavy pasteboard stood there, upright in a corner, and a +half-detached label caught his eye. The Detroit lawyer tore it off +and hastily secreted it. He was seated at a table in the room when +Ferris reentered. + +"Now," said he, bolting the doors between the two apartments, +"I wish to have you see these rooms sealed up! I must get back to +the office. You would do me a great favor if you would be here and +represent me as well as Clayton's interests when the detectives +search to-morrow. For nothing more can be done till I hook on to +Worthington, or the police may have a report from the outside. + +"Twenty tramp steamers and fifty sea-going boats have left since +Saturday noon. I am afraid Clayton has shown us a clean pair of +heels. What do you think?" + +But Jack Witherspoon only clutched the objects in his pocket, and +slowly shook his head. "I think nothing! It is a sad business, and +I will help you all I can! I will wait here until you hear from +Hugh, at any rate. You can drop me at the Hoffman." + +At the hotel Ferris said, on parting, "Come over at ten o'clock +to-morrow. I'll give you a stenographer and one of our assistant +cashiers. Then you can verify the whole contents of Clayton's rooms +with the detectives. The lawyers and head police will look through +his safe and office papers under my eye." + +At the parting, Ferris, worn out by the day's excitements, murmured, +as if seeking a confirmation of his theory, "Clayton has been acting +very strangely of late. Old Hugh wanted me to give him a talking +to!" + +"There'll be a reward offered, of course," said Jack, anxious to +lead Ferris out. + +"Certainly," was the rejoinder. "I think fifteen thousand for him, +and ten more for the money or cheques. But all depends on Hugh!" + +"I'll meet you at ten," gravely answered the stranger lawyer. "This +will break up our dinner, I am sick at heart." + +Once in his room, Witherspoon drew out the two articles which he had +concealed. The first was a little red morocco card-case, evidently +dropped as the supposed fugitive had left his room! Jack's fingers +trembled as he drew out the few visiting cards. With a wildly +beating heart he examined them. + +He sprang excitedly to his feet as he read the faintly pencilled +lines traced on the back of one, "Irma Gluyas, No. 192 Layte Street, +Brooklyn." + +It was the work of an instant only to glance at the label torn from +the picture-case. The printed words, "Newport Art Gallery," were +visible above the words, "Fräulein Irma Gluyas, 192 Layte Street, +Brooklyn," and the adjuration, "Handle with care," completed the +marks upon the tell-tale paper. + +The anxious lawyer saw the magnificent castle in the air which +he had builded crumbled at his feet. "This is for me alone," he +swore in his heart, and it was only after an hour's cogitation that +he resolved upon his course. "I must hunt up Doctor Atwater; but, +first, wait for the wishes of Worthington. The package from Detroit +may tell me something. And I must examine that picture and see that +no tell-tale inscription is on the back. Here is the key of the +mystery." + +Seated alone, with his nerves strained to the utmost, a sudden +inspiration came to the loyal friend of the missing man. "I am too +late. They have killed him!" + +He cursed the evil hour when he left for Europe without placing +Randall Clayton in a place of safety. "I should have taken him +with me, or else gone West with him and braved old Hugh. Yes; they +have lured him away! Killed him, and hidden this money. It will +all come out of the stockholders. It goes back into old Hugh's own +pocket. He has made his title safe! + +"In some way poor Clayton has babbled, and they have swept him +from the face of the earth. But for some fatal imprudence, he would +have come into his stolen fortune. And, after my settlement, Hugh +Worthington would have feared to attack Clayton." + +In half an hour Mr. John Witherspoon was on his way to Brooklyn. +He had already deposited the two precious articles in the massive +safes of the Hoffman, and he began his weary quest with a glance +at the "Newport Art Gallery," whose Fourteenth Street address was +printed upon the label. + +"This remains for a future examination," was Jack's rapid conclusion. +"The picture was procured here within three months, and the shop +looks like a permanent one." A glance at a Directory, in a drug-store, +proved that the Emporium had been there for a year, certainly. + +It was four o'clock when the lawyer resolutely rang, the bell at +No. 192 Layte Street. He had consumed an hour in scanning the quiet +exterior of the stately old mansion. The ignoble use of the parlor +frontage as a modiste's shop, attracted him as he vainly waited +for a reply to his repeated ringing. + +All that he could gain from a pert shop-girl was the news that the +house was shut up, and that no one lived there. + +The judicious use of a two-dollar bill brought as a harvest the +news that it had been used as a private club for men and that it +had been recently closed. "Ask in the saloon--the "Valkyrie"--next +door. They are the landlords," said the girl as she returned to +her ribbons. The acute lawyer, whose years of active practice had +opened his eyes to many of the mysteries of the inside life of New +York, Detroit and Chicago, was not deceived by the decorous white +enamel shutters. + +"I have done enough for one day," he mused. "I have kept my temper, +and Ferris suspects nothing. Poor Clayton never betrayed me; he +only betrayed himself. And he has been trapped; BUT BY WHOM? God +alone knows!" + +Once safely back in the Hoffman, Jack Witherspoon leisurely dined. +His self-commune had taught him the need of a perfect control of +every faculty. "I will not linger here to embarrass Ferris; but +the Newport Art Gallery, the mysterious woman of 192 Layte Street, +and the picture's secret history shall be my property alone. I will +not betray myself. Arthur Ferris may, perhaps, unbosom himself!" + +As the lonely night hours advanced, Witherspoon sat in his room, +vainly striving to reconcile the dozen theories of the flaring +editions of the evening papers. There was not a single suggestion +of foul play; not a word to point the direction of the supposed +fugitive's evasion; not a clue from the baffled police. + +It was the old story of a double life, the wreckage of a promising +career. "Just a plain, ordinary thief was Mr. Randall Clayton," +said one acute observer; "his case is only extraordinary from the +amount taken. And it seems that he robbed for the lucre itself, as +the most careful inquiry divulges no stain upon his private life. +Another case of the 'model young man' gone wrong." + +Witherspoon had thrown the journals into his trunk as a precaution, +and was smothering his disgust at their heartlessness, when Arthur +Ferris, white-faced, dashed into his room. + +"What has happened? Have you found his body?" cried the Detroit +man, springing up. "I may have to leave you here to represent me +privately," gasped Ferris, as with a shaking hand he extended a +telegram. "Read that!" Witherspoon gasped, in a sudden dismay, as +he read the crushing news. The dispatch was simply signed "Alice," +and the young men were speechless as Witherspoon falteringly read +the words: + +"Ellensburg, Washington, July 5, 1897. "Father lying dying at Pasco. +Railroad accident. Join me there. I arrive six o'clock morning." + +"I have ordered all the Tacoma dispatches repeated to her," muttered +Ferris. + +"He did not get this news about Clayton." Ferris' eyes were averted. +In his craven heart there was but one burning question, "My God! +Did he remake his will after our marriage? I may be left a pauper +on Alice's bounty." + +And Ferris, with a mighty effort, controlled his knowledge of the +secret wedding. "This is horrible!" he cried, as he sank into a +chair. + +And while they were mute, a ghastly, gleaming corpse was whirled +hither and thither, under the blackened waters rushing inward from +the sea, under the arch of Brooklyn Bridge, a mute witness of the +curse of Cain, waiting God's awful mandate for the sea to give up +its dead. + + + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +A CRUEL LEGACY. + + + + + +Randall Clayton's name was being bandied scornfully by thousands +of sneering lips as Arthur Ferris evaded his New York friends in +the crowded lobby of the Hoffman. The crafty lawyer bridegroom was +happy at Witherspoon's promise to remain and aid him. + +The secret antagonists had, however, lied to each other with all +possible show of candor. Ferris returned rapidly to Robert Wade's +private office, having engaged a temporary resting place at the +Fifth Avenue. "Let no cards be sent to my room--from the press or +any other people. You can easily understand why!" he ordered. + +The suave head clerk convoluted in sympathy with the financial +disaster, now the theme of the wildest gossip. But his heart +was as cold as the gleam of his gigantic diamond stud (real), as +he smoothly greeted the next customer. What is human suffering or +disgrace in a New York crowd? + +Ferris calmly refreshed himself at the Fifth Avenue's historic bar, +and then, hastening away to the Trading Company's office, sharply +dismissed the timorous Wade. That fat functionary was visibly +rattled when Ferris sent him home for the night. "I shall personally +direct all important matters now. You may as well notify Bell and +Edson that (for your own sake). I allow you and Somers, as well as +them, to remain on duty. But you four men can consider yourselves +practically suspended until Hugh Worthington arrives. You officials +can sign no single paper, from now on, without my counter endorsement. +There's my warrant for this action. I shall have this letter spread +on your confidential letter-book, so consider me as the real manager +until I put you on duty again." + +Robert Wade turned ashen pale as he read Hugh Worthington's carte +blanche powers given under his own hand to the new vice-president. + +"As I hold this, his power of attorney, and all his proxies, I +presume that you recognize my authority," coldly remarked Ferris. +"I will take charge of all here. I will be either here or at Parlor +C, Fifth Avenue." + +"When do you expect Worthington?" stammered the deposed manager. +"I don't know," sharply said Ferris. + +"For God's sake, consider my family, my business future, my +reputation," cried Wade, with tears in his eyes. + +"Pooh!" angrily rejoined Ferris. "Make that by-play on old Hugh. +It's all lost on me!" + +And, as the door closed, he sharply locked it, and, after examining +the rooms to prevent any Peeping Tom observing his actions, Ferris +sat down to study Clayton's telegraph book, and the messages which +he had rifled from the dead man's desk. + +"I am safe so far," muttered Ferris. "No one knows of my big secret +deal. But from this fellow's dispatch to Hugh, he certainly intended +to go out and see Edson at Bay Ridge. Now, did he start in good +faith? I must set some good outside detectives at work on that. + +"Then this dispatch to Alice, I wonder if she had still left a +sneaking fondness for him! Who can read a woman's heart? It's like +judging the depth of water by its smoothness: all mere conjecture. +Half the women are liars, and the other half hide more than half the +truth under their silken breastplates. They fight with double-edged +lies as their keenest weapons. + +"Unless Clayton was a very deep rascal, he certainly intended to go +on West. Where the devil is he? Kidnapped, and held till the swag +is safe? Dead? No!" + +A guilty spasm of conscience suggested that the missing cashier +might have secreted the funds and fled, to make private terms later +from his hiding place, with the wary Hugh. + +"He knew nothing, he suspected nothing of the Detroit land deal," +finally decided Ferris. "It's just a case of plain, ordinary thief!" + +The ambitious scoundrel had decided to conceal the finding of +Clayton's dispatches and carbon-book from all the local officials +of the company. + +"Now to the practical," he muttered, as he spread out his girl +wife's fateful telegram. + +"She will have surely received the Tacoma dispatches to the old +man before I can reach her now. The Associated Press, to-morrow, +will have a full account of the accident. His condition will be +telegraphed all over the country. But I'll instantly send a carte +blanche order to the Western Union man at Pasco for hourly reports." + +The Gazetteer had furnished him the meager information that Pasco +was a little railroad junction town in Franklin County, Washington, +on the Columbia River. "The old man must have been delayed on his +way to meet Clayton." + +"Now, for Alice!" The schemer's brow was damp with a cold moisture +as he muttered: "Old Hugh hated even to hear of Death. He tabooed +the subject like a Chinese mandarin. + +"His will! Did he think to change that document after the formal +marriage? I have not yet delivered Senator Durham! Hugh may have +left this girl the whole property! Fool! That I did not take that +matter up! Who ever thinks of Death, the grim shadow, stealing +along at our side? I must kill off her lingering regard for 'Brother +Randall Clayton!' Shall I start?" + +After half an hour's cogitation, Ferris had made up his plan of +operations. "I must let him drop! I cannot reach him. I will then +act on a certainty. She will report to me. I will clear all up here +and start West to-morrow night. But I will await her report and a +second order to join her. I must let her know why I linger." + +There were a dozen attendants waiting outside, for the accountants, +detectives and police were to be busied, coming and going, all the +night. Ferris had already called Einstein, waiting now on his own +special orders, when he changed his mind. "I'll trust no one now." + +He decided to go to the telegraph office himself. He suddenly +remembered the influence of the robbery and Worthington's untimely +death upon the value of the Western Trading Company's stock. + +"Damn it!" he growled. "I may be left a millionaire or a pauper! +I don't know which; and I have no ready money." + +But the presence of Senator Durham at Newport gave him a gleam of +light in these dark skies. "I'll telegraph to Durham (in cipher) to +sell a big block of this stock short at the opening of the Board. +Hugh's death will carry it down twenty or thirty dollars a share, +and then it will be back to the normal in a week." + +Suddenly he remembered the waiting Einstein. "Tell me," hoarsely +whispered Ferris as he dragged the lad back into the private office, +"What do you think of all this? You knew Mr. Clayton's ways!" + +"What's my opinion worth?" bluntly said the watchful Emil. "This!" +said Ferris, handing him a roll of bills. "Then," fearfully whispered +the artful boy, "it ain't no case of skippin' out. I believe some +of the fools in the office got a braggin' over their lunches about +our heavy bank business, and some smart gang has 'done up' Mr. +Clayton. I don't think he's alive. He wasn't the man to 'give up' +easy. He was 'dead square.' There wasn't no woman in the case. I +could tell stories of some of the other gentlemen. No! Clayton's +been hit good an' hard!" + +The boy trembled as he spoke. Ferris laughed contemptuously. "Here, +in New York!" + +The stubborn boy answered: "Look a-here! I'm only a poor working +boy! There's twenty squares within a, half mile where a man's life +isn't safe if he flashes a ten-dollar bill. Clayton was followed, +and done up for fair. An' the gang an' the swag are hundreds of +miles away! That's how!" + +"But where would they hide him?" answered Ferris, shivering at the +boy's matter-of-fact coldness. + +"RIVER!" emphatically said Emil. "Five to six hundred floaters +picked up every year. Nobody knows; nobody cares! + +"Now," sagely concluded Emil, "if Clayton could have been led off, +then it's dead easy; but he started straight for the bank, and +never got there. The gang may have piped him off for months, and +they worked on him, right here in the heart of town." + +"Keep your mouth shut. Post me, on the quiet," said Ferris, as he +remembered his telegrams. When Emil Einstein was left alone, he +calmly counted his bills. + +"Pretty good throw-off," he murmured. "I must lie low, for the +mother's sake. And--give her a wide berth. It's getting pretty +warm. This fellow's a chump; but the detectives, there's another +breed of rats!" The boy shivered as he thought of the gleaming +handcuffs. + +Arthur Ferris had now recovered from the first shock of the tidings +from the West enough to look ahead for the piloting of his own +interests. He smiled grimly. "Business before pleasure!" as he sent +off at the Twenty-third Street general office the tidings which +enabled Senator Durham to turn a cool hundred thousand. "He'll be +down here to-morrow to watch over his stocks! I must wait and see +him before I go West. Besides, I must see Witherspoon and give him +his cue. He knows nothing! He searched the Detroit title and never +even made a kick. His firm passed on the whole matter. I need him +to carry out my future plans." + +It seemed to Ferris that his long dispatch to "Miss Alice Worthington" +betrayed too much connubial tenderness. He recast it, and, after +stating that he would leave for Pasco within twenty-four hours, +added: + +"Open and read all dispatches sent on to your father from Tacoma. +The company's affairs are paralyzed here. I am in sole control. +Randall Clayton has absconded with a quarter of a million. Missing +since Saturday. Police at work. Telegraph your hotel address. +I will report by wire to-morrow several times. Will be guided by +your telegrams. Am acting under your father's letter of instructions. +Secure all his private papers in case of grave results of injury." + +All the weary night Arthur Ferris tossed uneasily upon his bed, +tormented with returning fears as to Hugh Worthington's testamentary +dispositions. "Those old miser hunks are crafty! The girl will +be wax in my hands if I am left to control the money. If she has +the purse-strings I may find her ugly in harness. She has the old +man's blood in her, and blood will tell." + +He had not dared to reveal the secret marriage in the decorous +language of his carefully worded dispatch. But one comfort was +left him. "I have the whip hand of them all," he murmured. "I am in +charge, and no one can displace me. Jack Witherspoon knows nothing, +and I can easily placate him by making him one of the estate's lawyers." +The golden crown of the millionaire seemed to have descended upon +his brows at last. + +Yet, while he slept, the enemy was awake and sowed tares! At the +Hoffman House Doctor Atwater and Witherspoon sat in conference long +after the midnight chimes had sounded. When the young men separated, +Atwater heartily grasped his friend's hand. "Poor Randall," he +sighed. "Fool, perhaps, even as you or I; but thief and defaulter, +no; never. There is some sad solution to this mystery. You must +wait till Worthington arrives, and be the champion of our missing +friend. I only fear later a discovery of his murder, and, if so, +thank God! it will be a cypress wreath; not the stain of dishonor, +or the brand of the felon. I am yours, to the last." + +As Witherspoon said "Good night" to the little picture of Francine +Delacroix, which was his household goddess, he swore an oath of +fidelity. "It may leave me poor, separate us for years; but Clayton, +dead or alive, shall be found. The Detroit package may unravel a +part of this mystery." + +It was high noon the next day when Arthur Ferris had completed +his arrangements for the hasty trip West. Jack Witherspoon sat in +Ferris' private office, stunned with the news of Hugh Worthington's +death at Pasco. + +For the operator there had loyally sent on to Ferris the first news +of the millionaire's demise in laconic words, "Died at ten o'clock, +fully conscious. Daughter with him since four A.M. Full Associated +Press reports later." + +The morning journals only contained a rumor that "Mr. Hugh +Worthington's private car was attached to the telescoped train." + +"This leaves me in charge of all until Hugh's will is opened," +evasively said Ferris. "But it is my duty to go out there. You +must remain here, as my representative, until I return. I will +telegraph your firm at Detroit that I need you here. They can +charge a company fee. Your own honorarium will be paid 'out of the +estate.' Now join me here at four. I'll have your orders ready. +And you can go to the station with me. I'll wire you, twice a day, +and you can report to me, on the train." + +"Any clue?" sadly demanded Witherspoon. "Oh! Clayton has got +clean away with his swag," said Ferris. "I've published fifteen +thousand dollars' reward for him, and ten more for the cheques or +any considerable part of the stolen money." + +They parted in silence, and Ferris never saw the glare in Jack +Witherspoon's eyes. "If he proves innocent, my poor friend, I'll +make Ferris, on his knees, eat those cruel words!" + +But when he left his new client, so strangely brought into his half +confidence, the Detroit lawyer hastened to Adams' Express office. + +For two hours he sat alone in a private room and studied over the +contents of the mute message of the dead. + +There were things in the package which astounded him; there +were written words which melted him to tears. The little hoard of +twenty-eight thousand dollars in certified cheques was there, with +an order for Randall Clayton's active stocks. A duly executed will, +in favor of my school-fellow and friend, Jack Witherspoon, lawyer, +of Detroit, was accompanied with a letter which gave the history +of the abortive attempt to decoy him to Cheyenne. + +The last manly lines brought tears to Jack Witherspoon's eyes. "As +they cannot lure me to Cheyenne, they may strike at me, even here, +and so, before your return. I've left you the little I have. Should +aught befall me, you are my sole heir, and the old matter would +go to you. Punish Hugh, follow up and defeat Ferris, and win my +birthright for Francine Delacroix. Make her your happy wife. We +made a mistake, Jack. We should have gone West together at once, +and faced old Hugh." + +The young lawyer's eyes were filled with tears as he read the rest +of Clayton's statement, evidently prepared to offset any attempt +on his life. + +But he was ready to battle within the enemy's lines, with a calm +and unmoved face, when he met Arthur Ferris at four o'clock. + +Witherspoon scarcely recognized the man whom he instinctively felt +to be Randall Clayton's murderer. There were great furrows in +Ferris' pale cheeks as he handed him a telegram. "I believe that +the whole world is going mad," desperately said the baffled Ferris. +"Just read those lines from a now helpless and orphaned girl." + +The men who were to fight out a battle to the death eyed each other +in silence. Witherspoon scarcely could credit his eyes, as he read +again and again the few words of the imperative message. + +"My father died this morning. Do not join me. Send no telegrams +or letters. I am coming, at once, to New York. Remain in charge +until I come with my lawyers from Detroit. I will have my father's +will and all his papers. I act under his last wishes. Find Randall +Clayton, dead or alive. + +"ALICE WORTHINGTON." + +"Now, tell me, Witherspoon, is not that girl mad?" hoarsely cried +Ferris. "I suppose that all the railroad people and our ranch men +have gathered around her, and she has dozens of volunteer advisers. +By God! I'll straighten her out when I meet her." + +The young Detroit lawyer met Ferris' agonized glances squarely, +and his voice rang as coldly as the clang of steel when he quietly +said, handing back the papers: "I must tell you, Mr. Ferris," he +answered, with decision, "that I release you from any obligation to +me for my services so far. I shall decline to express any personal +or professional opinion in this matter until I get further orders." +Ferris sprang back like a tiger cat at bay. + +"Orders! Orders from whom?" he almost yelled. + +"From my seniors at Detroit," quietly answered Jack, "or from Miss +Alice Worthington. I am surprised at tne tone in which you refer +to her! What are your claims upon her? + +"Of course, as a brother professional, you know that your power +of attorney from poor old Hugh ended with his appallingly sudden +death. That demise also vacates the letter of instructions given +to you." + +"But I am the vice-president of the company," growled Ferris, scenting +a possible enemy in the imperturbable young advocate. "True, but +you are not a judge on the bench. You have suspended all the officers +here, usurped their powers, and taken great responsibilities. Do +you control a majority of the stock of the Western Trading Company?" +Ferris winced. + +"Of course, you know I don't; but the Worthington estate does!" + +"What power have you to represent that estate?" pursued the unpitying +Witherspoon. + +"It looks as if Miss Worthington would act herself, and, also, have +other advisers. I now, as a friend to all parties, warn you that +you will be held responsible for all your acts here. You must not +ask me for any further advice." + +"I suppose you will volunteer your legal acumen to the young heiress, +now!" sneered Ferris. He regretted his brutal outbreak, for John +Witherspoon rose with calmness. + +"I own five hundred shares of the stock myself, earned as a fee, +from the late Mr. Worthington. + +"I shall claim my right to have access to the company's public +offices, and to watch your strange floundering around here. We +will drop our social and personal intercourse right here--forever. +Your last remark is so vile that it is beneath contempt." + +Witherspoon was at the door when Ferris laid his pleading hands +upon his arm. + +The Detroit man shook them off. "I warn you, Mr. Ferris," he said, +"that a very reputable minority of the community, if not a majority, +will believe that Randall Clayton was waylaid and murdered. Now, +until you can show him up as a thief, I recommend you to use charity +and forbearance. It is my belief that there has been some damnable +foul play here." + +The dejected Ferris sat for an hour with his head buried in his hands, +before he dared to answer his girl wife's imperative telegram. "I +must wait here like a tongue-tied dog," he growled. + +"Has the will made her a sole legatee? If so, I must work on her +feelings. I was a fool to quarrel with this fellow. He was another +of the school-time playmates!" + +When Ferris sneaked out to send a submissive dispatch to his wife, +he was tormented by the stern words of the young orphan's telegram. +"I act under his last wishes. Find Randall Clayton, dead or alive." + +"There is trouble ahead," mused Ferris, "and I have made enemies +of all the officials here. But Alice is mine. I hold her in the +hollow of my hand. My wife! That she cannot gainsay." + +When he had sent off his message he felt strangely cheered by the +reflection that Worthington probably left ten to fifteen millions +behind him. + +"There's enough for all," he cheerily reflected. "I'll let her play +'Miss Millions' a bit, but when the probate proceedings come up, +she'll find a husband is a hard thing to deal with." + +He was wandering back to the office, determined to remove at once +all of his private data and personal effects to the Fifth Avenue, +when he stumbled over the policeman on the beat. + +Sturdy Dennis McNerney flourished his club in a passing salute. +"Bad business, sir, this of Mr. Clayton," said the stalwart +Irish-American. "Is it true there's twenty-five thousand reward +out?" + +With a sudden inspiration Arthur Ferris paused. "Mac," said he, "I +am deeply interested here. I'll give you personally five thousand +dollars more for the first clue; mind you, no publicity." + +The policeman's eyes sparkled. "Word of honor?" he said. "Yes! +I'll write it in your presence, seal it, and give it to you--this +promise, if the clue leads to Clayton, dead or alive." + +The two men walked along in the streaming crowd. Ferris felt +instinctively that the officer was holding something back. + +"What do the reporters say?" hesitating remarked Ferris. "All in +the dark--a pack of fools--unless it's a crime that gives itself +away to any one. They know nothing, and the force has not picked +up a pointer. Strange, strange, that the job was so neatly done!" + +"What do you mean?" quickly queried Ferris. + +"Oh! Any gonoph can see that the man was murdered for the stuff!" +resolutely said McNerney. "He was no fellow to clear out! His life +was clean as a whistle! I know all about him!" + +"How can you prove that?" hotly said the excited lawyer. "Because +all the men on the force, from here to his rooms, and around town, +knew him for a clean, civil, honest, steady fellow--one in ten +thousand. Thief, he? Never!" said McNerney. "Not on your life!" + +Ferris stopped. "I will be at the Fifth Avenue, night and day," +said the vice-president, "either there or at our office. You can +come to my rooms at your will. I'll leave word for your admittance. +You'll have your money in ten minutes if you turn up any sign of +him." + +As the men separated McNerney strolled down to the corner where he +had seen Clayton and Leah Einstein enter the carriage. "Here the +poor fellow began his ride to death," mused Dennis. "I must have +that reward--all of it--and this fellow's five thousand. Had he +a hand in it? I'll spot him from to-night. + +"But the Jew boy has the key of the secret! Of course, he's crafty +and cowardly. In a month he will throw off his fear. When I catch +him with that woman I've got the right scent of the whole thing. +Then, I'll hunt up the hack-driver. The boy is the key. And if the +force finds out nothing in two weeks the game is mine! If the boy +is arrested, I'll get in with the woman and carriage clue. I can +wait!" + +While Jack Witherspoon and Doctor Atwater conferred at the Hoffman, +there was a private meeting at Robert Wade's mansion, which brought +together all the suspended officials. + +Robert Wade, with indignation against Ferris' brutal treatment, +announced the policy of a united resistance, a joint appeal to +Hugh Worthington, and the demand of an Investigation Committee of +Directors. "We will wait for Mr. Worthington's vindication," said +Wade, in an unanswerable tone. + +"Then you will wait until eternity," sadly said Walter Edson. +"Here is the ten o'clock edition of the Evening Telegram. Mr. Hugh +Worthington, the well-known capitalist, died at Pasco, Washington, +this morning, from injuries received in a railroad accident." + +When the hubbub had subsided, the voice of Wade was heard. "Gentlemen, +we must act in a passive defence until the Worthington Estate +sends in a man to control the situation. I shall move that three +of us retain lawyers to defend us all and advise us as to our joint +course, for I apprehend Mr. Arthur Ferris will be a King Shark if +he rules over us." + +While the endangered officials burned the midnight oil, the +hollow-eyed Arthur Ferris was hidden at the Waldorf-Astoria with +that sage statesman Senator Dunham. It was long after midnight +when Dunham dismissed his nephew. He had half pooh-poohed away the +fears of the young schemer. + +"Of course, the girl is rattled. You see, no one but you and +I know of the marriage. It gives you an iron hold upon her. She +will undoubtedly be advised to let our Western friends escort Mr. +Worthington's body on to Detroit. There, of course, she will be +met by the family lawyers. + +"After the necessary preliminaries there, one of them will escort +her on here--and--I will be within reach. She evidently wishes to +have the affair of the marriage made public, some time later. If +you made Worthington do the right thing about the will, and all +that, you will come out all right. + +"But do not cross her wishes. You cannot spring this marriage on +the public without endangering all our interests. My lawyers here +will look out for the big deal. You can bring the estate's lawyer +to me, and, when you have reduced your wife to a passive mood, +we three can clue up all the private affairs. I will be near you. +I think you are borrowing trouble. As for young Witherspoon, let +him be a little huffy. I can soon whip in those railroad chiefs of +his. Have little to do with him, but be civil--that's all. + +"Don't antagonize him. He might prove an ugly customer." + +While the tide of intrigue ebbed and flowed around the great +company's headquarters, far away beyond the Rockies, on past the +dreary plains and the uplifted minarets of the Columbia, seated by +the coffin of her dead father, Alice Ferris gazed down in silence +upon the face of the stern old man. + +Among the silent watchers, gazing in the fair face of the orphaned +girl, there was no one who knew her other than as Alice Worthington. + +The calm majesty of Death had swept away from the dead capitalist's +face all the anxious look of money cares. The pale lips were silent +now, behind his broad brow the busy brain was settled forever. + +To the frontier clergyman, to the company's Western superintendent, +to the few care-worn women who had offered their services, the strong +face and tearless eyes of the beautiful mourner were a mystery of +mysteries. + +The morrow was to bear Alice Ferris away to her home by the lakes, +and some subtle influence seemed to have transformed the golden-haired +girl into a stern, stately Niobe. + +All the journals from Cheyenne to the Pacific were now teeming +with fulsome praise of the man whose firm hand had guided so many +enterprises past all the financial shoals and quicksands of our +sweeping tide of speculation. + +The whole of America now knew how the deceased millionaire had left +Tacoma in the ruddy glow of health, his luxurious car attached to +the eastward train. + +There had been but a hurried parting between Hugh Worthington and +his idolized daughter. Alice well knew the light of Victory shining +out upon the old man's rugged face, as he received the brief telegrams +of Ferris from Philadelphia informing him of the sweeping triumph +in the election which had thrown the final destines of the Western +Trading Company unreservedly into his hands. + +There was a cloud, however, chilling the hearts of father +and daughter, when Hugh briefly announced that he was going on to +Cheyenne to meet Randall Clayton. "You will forgive him; you will +bring him on to us; he will remain here when my real church wedding +and all our reunion of friends introduces me as a bride. For I am +only pledged by the law now." + +Then the old man's face hardened. "I have to use diplomacy with +him," he briefly answered. "He has stubbornly refused to obey my +orders. He might ruin my newly modelled company as an open enemy. +And I have invited him West only to save trouble between Arthur and +him. You know what a future you will have as the wife of Senator +Dunham's only nephew. I have tried to gain wealth for you. Arthur +Ferris may Himself reach the Senate. I had to choose for you. I +chose well. Randall might have been the son of my old age, but"-- + +Then Alice Ferris, with flashing eyes, faced her father. The virginal +heart of the girl was roused with a nameless terror. "And so you +have made me Arthur Ferris' wife to chain the Senator to you for +life! You told me that Randall Clayton led a vile life. Who told +you?" + +The Little Sister's heart was aflame. All her soul went out in +a flood of faith in the absent man's honor. "You have been at my +side, near me, father. Some one has worked upon you. I will make +Arthur tell me all." + +It was only after a positive refusal to take Alice on to Cheyenne +that the old capitalist left the lonely heiress sobbing in a wild +grief. + +And but twenty-four hours later the open switch left unguarded by +a drunken laborer had sent a thundering special crashing into Hugh +Worthington's special car. + +Strangers had tenderly lifted his bruised and bleeding body; but +no one but the mourning girl had heard the awful confession of +those early morning hours at Pasco. + +Alice Worthington shuddered as the dying man gasped out his fateful +words, driven on by a self-torment which was a living hell. The +millionaire faltered out the shameful discovery of Randall Clayton's +vast birthright. + +"I was forced to take advantage of Everett Clayton in the panic +days when we separated. It was his ruin or mine. It was only after +I had nurtured and educated Randall that I found the forgotten land +had leaped into a priceless estate. The railway changes made it a +princely fortune. + +"I was tempted! I feared to'disclose my plans of handling Dunham. +I was forced to buy Dunham's influence with speculating for him. It +was only another form of bribery. And so, to seal Dunham's faith, +I married you to Arthur Ferris!" + +The girl bride's, eyes settled into a stony stare as the wretched +man grasped her hands. "It is too late now. The company has been +my dream, the crown of my life. But you can make restitution. You +are now nineteen. I have left all to you, in my will. Boardman +and Warner are the executors. They are honest. There is young +Witherspoon, too, their junior; he is Clayton's friend. You can tell +him that you have discovered this property interest for Clayton. + +"Spare my name. Spare yourself the public shame. You can make +restitution. Tell Arthur Ferris all. He has my confidence. He +knew the whole intrigue. And make him give Clayton his half of +the proceeds of the land sale. You will have all my millions! Your +husband is powerless to interfere. I intended to leave him a handsome +sum. But you can take Randall Clayton's deed to the railroad land +and give him one-half of what they pay me. Ferris has carried the +whole matter through. He knows." + +When the dying man recovered from the weakness of his effort at +disclosure, he lay whispering, "Nemesis! Nemesis! I am punished!" + +And Alice Worthington, at her dying father's side, felt herself now +chained to the galley, a slave of millions. She had become twenty +years older in half an hour. In low tones she asked questions to +which the repentant man replied only by a feeble motion of assent. + +When the noonday sun stood high over Pasco, the whole shameful +story had been revealed to the orphan. The great sighing of the +mountain pines seemed to blazen the secret of a great man's cowardly +crime. + +And yet Hugh Worthington died with his hand feebly clasping his +motherless child's, a smile upon his lips, for she had promised +never to betray the blackened past. + +"Give him back his own," muttered old Hugh, whose lips had feebly +owned that he had allowed Randall Clayton's good name to be vilely +accused. "Give him his own!" imploringly faltered the dying Croesus. + +And so, the legacy of a crime came as a crushing burden to the girl +wife whose clear eyes had looked into her father's darkened soul. +The papers and telegrams which the lonely heiress was forced to +examine told her clearly how Randall Clayton's pathway had been +beset with snares. + +She shuddered as she read the telegrams which proved a catastrophe +which she could not avert. "And Arthur Ferris--my husband in +name--knew all! This is his work!" + +She roused herself to action and gave over the dead clay to kindly +hands when, at midnight on the day of her father's death, she had +received all the dispatches which told her of Randall Clayton's +evasion. Kneeling by her father's body she vowed herself a priestess +of Justice. "They may have killed him. I may be too late; but I +will deal with my despoiled brother's memory as my only heritage. +For he was innocent, and has been robbed of birthright, good name, +and perhaps life itself." + + + + + + +BOOK III. + +THE MESSAGE FROM AMOY. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +THE GIRL BRIDE'S REBELLION. + + + + + +For a week after the receipt of the ominous telegram from Pasco, +Arthur Ferris sat, a gloomy tyrant, in the offices of the Western +Trading Company. There were dark circles around the young lawyer's +eyes, and his restless mind gnawed upon itself in an intolerable +agony. + +Left alone by Senator Dunham's departure, the open aversion of the +company's officials had astounded him. + +Even Robert Wade, so cringing before the death of Worthington, had +received his reinstatement in a sullen silence. "Do I understand +that you wish me to be responsible for the daily conduct of the +company's affairs?" gravely said Wade. "Then you must restore all +the officials or I will not act! Every one knows, sir, that your +power of attorney from the late Mr. Worthington became valueless +at his death." + +Ferris, with fear and trembling, awaited the extraordinary meeting +of the Board of Directors called to meet the exigencies of the +demise of Worthington and the great robbery. With a heavy heart +he resigned the following up of the missing Randall Clayton to the +company's advisory attorneys. + +Day by day he had breathlessly watched every telegram brought in, +every delivery of the mails. Neither letter nor dispatch from the +girl wife broke into the gloom of these days. + +He dared not disobey her positive injunctions. He feared to leave +New York City and go to Detroit to meet her, and only the meager +results of private telegraphic inquiry, as well as the chattering +journals, told him of the arrival of Miss Alice Worthington, now +the greatest heiress of the Lake States, in her palatial Detroit +home. + +Senator Dunham's easy-going counsels had been of no comfort. To +the millionaire politician, the natural ascendancy of Ferris over +the girl's future and fortune seemed "to close the incident." + +Secure in his "block of stock," he returned to the delights of +Newport, where the Senatorial toga was duly flourished in the gayest +circles. + +But, a crafty scoundrel, warned by his own uneasy conscience, Arthur +Ferris took alarm at the "Social items" of the Detroit Free Press. + +When he learned that Miss Worthington intended to visit New York +City, accompanied by Messrs. Boardman and Warner, the executors +of her father's estate, on matters connected with the probate of +the will, he realized that he was in imminent danger. + +He used every means of rapid information, and only gleaned the +meager news that the public funeral of the dead Croesus would be +deferred for a month until the "various civic bodies" could "take +appropriate action." + +The Detroit papers were filled with the reverberated reports of +Randall Clayton's mysterious crime, "by which astounding peculation, +the millionaire's estate would possibly shrink several hundred +thousand dollars." And yet--no trace of the fugitive! + +Ferris already scented his deadly foe in Mr. John Witherspoon, who +daily visited the offices of the Trading Company, passing him with +a mere formal bow, when engaged upon the books and papers. + +It was with a thrill of new alarm that Ferris learned from the company's +advisory attorneys that Mr. Witherspoon had been commissioned by +the executors of the estate "to make a thorough investigation into +the alleged defalcation of the still missing Clayton." + +Ferris was baffled when he sought to spy upon Witherspoon's +movements. It was easy to find out that the Detroit lawyer had left +the Hoffman House, but "with no address." + +And he vainly sought counsel of Senator Dunham when he was informed +by the company's lawyers that Mr. Witherspoon declined to transact +any business with him save in writing, and through the company's +officials. + +"Go out and bring your wife to terms, you young fool," roughly said +the angered statesman. "You've no rights, now, save through her." + +To the consternation of the secret bridegroom, the Detroit papers +announced that "nothing whatever would be as yet announced as to +the disposition of the late Mr. Worthington's vast estate," until +the return of the executors from New York City. + +With all his nerves temporarily shattered, Arthur Ferris saw all +his cardboard fortifications suddenly strewn around him by adverse +gales. His barren title of vice-president of the company now availed +him nothing. The president, manager, and directors all practically +shunned him, waiting for the word as to who would manage the +controlling interest of the dead Croesus. + +There was a formal evening meeting of all concerned when the +detective captain finally reported that the whole department were +unable to find a clue of Randall Clayton's whereabouts. Arthur +Ferris gazed askance at Mr. John Witherspoon's strong face when the +company's leading New York lawyer took up the word, as the French +neatly put it. "Gentlemen," said he, "we may as well adjourn this +meeting. We have been in secret session here, till it now nears +midnight. We are all groping in the dark. Here is a remarkable +phase of a great crime. Even the 'argus-eyed press' has no theory +to offer." + +There was a frightened hush when Counsellor Stillwell solemnly +said: "Are we sure that we are on the right road? It appears that +we have lost all roads. Groping! Only feeling our way in the dark! +Police and journals powerless, our rewards unanswered! It remains +for us to drop the matter of theft, and--look for a murderer. + +"I now move that we double the reward and seek for the murderer +or murderers of Randall Clayton! Remember, not a bill or cheque, +not an object, the bank book, nothing has been found to indicate +either theft or flight. + +"I always had implicit confidence in Clayton's honor; he was +trusted by our heaviest stockholder, named by him, backed by him; +and Mr. Worthington, even at his lamented death, proposed making +him general manager in the West. There's not a shadow on the name +of the missing man." + +While the audience eyed each other, the three police officials +present cried in accord: "Good; double the reward. NOW YOU'RE ON +THE RIGHT TRACK." + +"I second the motion," quietly said the pale-faced Witherspoon. "I +do also," slowly said Ferris, "and I offer the amendment that this +action takes effect when Mr. Worthington's executors arrive and +authorize this important step." + +In sheer impotency to quarrel, the puzzled meeting adjourned, and +Arthur Ferris, now conspicuously alone, was left to chatter with +Policeman Dennis McNerney on the lonely street corner below. + +"Well!" said Ferris impatiently, as a fifty-dollar bill changed +hands. "All I can tell you," whispered the policeman, "is that +Lawyer Witherspoon is at the Buckingham. He received no visitors +but his friend, a young doctor. + +"Physician's name, William Atwater, M.D. Mail and telegrams he gets +at down-town office, your company's lawyers. And he spends all his +time running around at nights with Atwater or locked up with old +Stillwell in his den down town. + +"It's a poor harvest, Dennis," gruffly said Ferris. + +"That's all there's in it," stolidly said the man. "Shall I keep +up the watch?" + +"Yes, as usual," sadly replied Ferris, as he sped up Broadway to +the Fifth Avenue. The policeman snorted his contempt, when Ferris +had turned the corner. + +"A beggarly fifty! By God! I'll hold the boy down. Somewhere +in that funny little joint of a drug-store the secret lies. In a +couple of weeks I can begin work on Timmins; but the office boy, +Einstein, waited personally on Clayton! When his fear wears off, +I'll trap him. He is spending money too freely. Where does that +come from?" + +As McNerney wandered on, he was as ignorant of Einstein's continued +milking of Ferris' purse, as Ferris was of Jack Witherspoon's +treasured clues and as all the knowing ones were of Arthur Ferris' +crafty course in robbing Randall Clayton's desk of the tell-tale +dispatches. + +Einstein's greedy fingers were now always in Ferris' purse, for +well the Jewish boy knew that Ferris feared to disclose the theft +of the private papers. And so he filled the schemer's ears with +unmeaning babble about Randall Clayton's night life in New York. + +"In the dark! In the dark!" muttered Ferris, as he threw himself +down on his bed. "Did Clayton ever start for Bay Ridge? Did he hide +the money and flee to Europe? Did he go West to meet Worthington?" + +A wild idea came to him that the bank employees might have stolen +the money, lured Clayton into some Bowery or Fourth Avenue dive, +some room on Eighth Street, and then stolen the tell-tale bank-book. +"What would not any man do for a quarter of a million?" groaned +Ferris in despair. + +And all these long days, while the New York community was daily +forgetting the flight of Clayton, the theft, and the dead millionaire +to whom all the worshippers of the Golden Calf had bowed, the +"Mesopotamia" was slowly nearing Stettin, now breasting the North +Sea surges. + +Irma Gluyas, awakened from her narcotic stupor, felt in her wild, +wayward heart that Mr. August Meyer had lied to her. + +But there was an apparent peace on the liner. The passionate-hearted +singer amused the captain and half deceived her watchful tyrant. + +But, deep in her heart, she had evolved a plan. Once safely in +Stettin, she would telegraph to Clayton. + +True, she had no money; but her fingers were covered with flashing +rings. Partner of some of Fritz Braun's smuggling secrets, she was +free of all crime, but the desire to innocently lure Clayton away +while the Cattle Trust's safes could be robbed in the holidays. + +Step by step her old-time paramour had lured her on to betray +Randall Clayton, and yet, at the last, the good angel struggled +with the spirit of evil in that stormy heart. There was a smiling +calm on Fritz Braun's face which did not deceive her. She knew +that the great game had been pulled off. But how--with what golden +harvest--she knew not. + +And yet she marked Braun's trembling hands, the lines graven on +his face, his deep potations, his fierce fever to reach the land. +And so, deep in her heart, she swore, "If he has harmed him, it is +his life or mine!" + +Gazing out on the leaden surges of the ocean, she could see the face +of her manly lover, the one man who had believed in her underlying +womanhood. There was no stain on the red roses worn on her breast +for him; only truth in her gleaming Magyar eyes. "He loved me, for +what he saw in me--the innocent woman that I once was." And bitter +tears mingled with the salt brine flashing by--the tears of a +repentent magdalen. + +Fritz Braun never knew that the woman who submitted to his caresses +was a spirit of wrath. Fool in his own conceit, he was yet watchful. +If she makes a single false move at Stettin, she seals her own +fate, he darkly pledged his familiar demon. And so, stealthily +eying each other, the fugitive and his fascinating dupe neared the +sandy dunes of the German Baltic land. + +And yet God's wrath followed them. There was the throb of guilt in +both their bosoms, resting in one the betrayal of a soul, on the +other the crushing weight of innocent blood crying for vengeance. + +And still, as yet, they slept in peace, for the dark waters of the +East River had not given up that ghastly mute witness whirling and +diving in the black under eddies around the rock-hewn pyramids of +the Brooklyn Bridge. + +A thousand pairs of eager eyes now watched the money exchanges of +America and Europe for any paltry bit of the plunder stored away +in Fritz Braun's black valise. But the vengeance of God slept only +while the sinners fled away from the place of the betrayal of a +noble heart. + +Vice-President Arthur Ferris of the Western Trading Company found +in the proud and formal reserve of the reinstated officials an +armor proof against all his legal acumen. + +Some subtle spirit of unexpressed defiance seemed to have banded them +all against him. He felt that the stately oak which had sheltered +him was now fallen indeed. It was in an agony of spirit that he +awaited the appearance of his unacknowledged wife. + +The "private agency" which he had secretly employed brought a new +discovery to his heart, when, ten days after Hugh Worthington's +death, Ferris was awakened before his breakfast by a sudden report. +The spy handed, in silence, to the astounded man a sealed envelope, +which was the tidings of an impending Waterloo. + +"Miss Worthington arrived night before last, with Boardman and +Warner. They came on in a special car via the Pennsylvania road. +She is at A. C. Stillwell's town house on Central Park West. The +lawyers are both at the University Club. She has not left the house, +and there have been many business-looking callers at the Stillwell +house. Boardman or Warner is there on duty all the while, in +alternation. Watch them." + +Shame, rage, and fear struggled for the mastery on Ferris' pale +cheeks as he dismissed the paid spy. "Tell your chief I'll call in +and give him my final directions to-day," he curtly said. + +In two hours Arthur Ferris had made the formal toilet for +a professional duel of wits. He was the first caller when the +silver-haired counselor had dispatched his morning mail. + +Mr. Stillwell's frosty blue eyes gleamed with an Arctic light as +Arthur Ferris opened his masked batteries. In all that long ride +down Broadway, Ferris had arranged the "subject matter" evidently +to his own satisfaction. But he floundered under the mute inquiry +of those frosty eyes, and the floundering finally ceased. + +"Do I understand that you ask or demand an interview with Miss +Worthington?" icily said the old lawyer. "If you will put your +wishes in writing, I will convey them to her. That is all I can +say. I admit that she is my guest, and I also desire to say that +she shuns all intrusion." + +"Messrs. Boardman and Warner,"--began Ferris. "With them I have +nothing to do," coldly replied Stillwell. "You will hear of them +and from them in due time." + +With trembling fingers, Arthur Ferris wrote a few lines, sealed +them, and handed them to the lawyer, whose formal bow froze the +words trembling upon his lips. + +Two long days of mental agony passed before Ferris, seated at his +desk in the Trading Company's executive offices, received a formal +letter from the men whom now he most feared on earth. "Not much to +speculate on here," growled Ferris, as he pondered over the curt +permission. + +"Our client, Miss Alice Worthington, will receive you, on business, +at No. 248 Central Park West, at 2 P.M. to-day. "BOARDMAN AND +WARNER, "Executors, Hugh Worthington Estate." + +The signature seemed to be a fluttering banner of hostile hosts. + +And yet, summoning all his trained calm, Arthur Ferris, with +unmoved gravity, bowed as he was ushered into the drawing-room of +the great New York pleader. He knew the flag of no surrender was +flying. He saluted, in silence, the two gentlemen who advanced to +meet him. + +And then an angry flush stole over his pale face. It was not the +chilly greeting of the massive Lemuel Boardman, not the sharp, +attentive nod of Mr. Ezra Warner, which sent the blood leaping to +his heart; it was the slight inclination of the head of Mr. John +Witherspoon, his secret antagonist. For he scented danger when +the young Detroit lawyer appeared here in the stronghold of his +rebellious wife in name. + +"Miss Worthington will join us in a few moments," said Mr. Boardman. + +There was the rustling of heavy, trailing robes, and Arthur Ferris +scarcely dared raise his eyes as the figure of his girl bride +darkened the door. + +And he knew his fate at the first glance! He knew that he had lost +her forever, the bride of a crime. + +There was a majesty in that slight figure, clad in its sombre +mourning drapery, which awed him. There was a set, marble pallor +upon the beautiful face, and Arthur Ferris could not see the sapphire +blue eyes veiled with their fringing lashes. He had started forward, +had stretched out appealing hands, and murmured "Alice," but the +youthful heiress merely glided past him in a stern silence. He +could see her now, her face buried in her thin, white hands, the +coronal of golden hair gleaming out over the black gown. + +There was the faint sound of a sob as Ferris turned angrily to the +senior, while Warner bent pityingly over the young girl. + +"I demand a private interview with Miss Worthington," the husband +quickly said, as he indicated the unwelcome presence of Witherspoon. + +"We are here, Mr. Ferris," said Boardman, in a steady voice, "to +allow you to communicate, properly, with Miss Worthington. As her +legal representatives and the executors of her father's estate, we +are requested to remain by her. You may proceed." + +"I insist that Mr. Witherspoon shall, at once, retire. He is an +interloper here," hotly replied Ferris. + +"So much so," icily answered Boardman, "that he has been selected +by us as the general managing director of the Western Trading +Company to succeed the late Mr. Hugh Worthington." + +The clock, ticking on noisily, seemed to sound the knell of Ferris' +last hopes. But his affections were now only a mirage of the past. +"That gives him no power over me here," stubbornly said the defeated +husband. + +"True; but THIS does," quietly said Boardman, handing him a paper. + +With a sickening feeling at heart, Ferris read a formal appointment, +signed by Miss Worthington, and countersigned by Boardman and +Warner, appointing John Witherspoon as resident attorney, in law +and fact, for Miss Alice Worthington. + +"If that is not satisfactory, sir," gravely concluded the lawyer, +"we have named Mr. Witherspoon as special New York counsel for +the executors, and he will hold the proxy to cast the vote of the +estate in the ensuing special election. I suggest that you now +proceed with the matters in hand." + +"One word!" cried Ferris, leaping to his wife's side, and seizing +her wrists. "Do you confirm this outrage?" + +"I do," suddenly cried the weeping girl, springing up and facing +him with a defiant brow. + +"What have you done with my brother? Where is the man whom you +falsely accused of leading a vile life? You poisoned my father's +mind against Randall. He has been led away and killed among you." + +"Before God, I know nothing of his fate!" stammered Arthur Ferris, +in despair. + +"Then prove your innocence!" cried Alice Worthington, her lovely +face lit with the anger of an avenging angel. "There is a gulf +between us which will never be crossed, so help me, God!" + +The girl fell back, weeping, in the arms of Warner, while Boardman +sternly seized the trembling Ferris. "Another such outbreak and +you can say adieu forever to the woman whose life you have wrecked," +whispered Boardman. "Now, sir," he continued, raising his voice, +"proceed! For, after to-day all your communications will be in +writing, and only through us!" + +"I demand your authority for all these high-handed actions," snarled +the deposed autocrat of the Trading Company. His heart hardened as +he reflected that, after all, he was the legal marital master of +the slim girl there, hidden in her shrouding black robes. + +"Nothing easier," calmly answered Boardman. "Here is a certified +copy of the will of Hugh Worthington, which leaves his entire +estate, real and personal, to his only child. + +"As Miss Worthington has passed the age of eighteen, she needs no +guardian of the person. + +"We have obtained a special sanction of the Michigan courts for +the appointment of Mr. Witherspoon to represent the estate here. I +will leave you this copy, and Mr. Witherspoon will now deliver to +you our written order to cease all functions in connection with the +Trading Company except in so far as you represent your own stock. + +"And, as you were not a qualified stockholder (a bona fide one) at +the last election manipulated by you, your office as vice-president +will be vacated at this special meeting." + +Arthur Ferris' eyes flashed fire as Witherspoon, without a word, +handed him the second document. + +He essayed vainly to speak, but his parched tongue was powerless, +his lips were fever-glued. Finally, the man who now feared a further +stroke of malevolent fortune, said, in a low voice, "I desire a +few words in private with Miss Worthington." + +To the astonishment of the three men, Alice Worthington arose and +glided into the rear drawing-room, where Ferris sprang to her side. + +In low whispers he essayed to recall his lost bride to her perfunctory +duties of wife. The men in the great front hall gazed at Fashion's +throng sweeping by on the avenue as Ferris led his last trumps and +endeavored to develop the hidden enemy's line of reserve. + +His last hope failed when his legal wife quietly whispered, "Our +union was brought about by treachery, duress, and fraud. Do you +wish to proclaim your own share publicly? I know all now. I have +all my father's dispatches, his cipher book, his telegrams from +you, and the last, from Randall Clayton." + +"You are my wife," fiercely whispered Ferris. + +"In name only," defiantly replied Alice Worthington. "You will +learn my father's last wishes later, and to your sorrow. You lied +when you said that Clayton led a vile life. You poisoned my father's +mind. Thank God! I am my own mistress now. + +"I have friends who will protect me and punish you. I dare you ever +to claim me as your wife. Beyond that mere civil ceremony, the sale +of a soul for Senator Dunham's influence, you have never laid your +hand in mine." + +"You cannot frighten me, Madame," bitterly retorted Ferris. "I hold +your father's good name in my power." + +"Stop!" coldly rejoined the angered woman. "I have the whole history +of the past. My father repaired the wrong done with his own hand, +before his death. + +"You betrayed Clayton, as your life comrade; you stole upon me, +a lonely child, with your wily flatteries. I believed you to be +true, and Clayton false. You murdered his good name, you estranged +him from us. You have branded his memory as a fugitive thief! And +you have failed, with your police, detectives, and lawyers, to +find a clue! One word of charity from you and the dead man's memory +would have been cleared of the stain of theft. + +"And, the prison door yawns for you! You opened Clayton's desk, +stole his telegraph-book and papers, and have secreted them." + +"It is false," snarled Ferris. "Too late," cried Alice Worthington. +"We have the office boy's evidence who saw you rifle his desk. +Touch that boy if you dare! He is under our protection! We obtained +copies from the Western Union of all the last telegrams sent and +received by my poor brother." + +"He plotted this robbery months ago, and sent all those as a mere +decoy," faltered Ferris. "I was merely holding them back to assist +the police." Alice Worthington's lip curled in scorn. + +"Why did you not search the roads to Cheyenne? Why did you not send +detectives over to Bay Ridge? Why did you not reveal your secret +find to the chief of police?" + +Suddenly Ferris saw the jaws of the trap closing upon him. + +"He has been murdered!" sobbed Alice. "The money may have been +hidden, the bank-book destroyed." + +"By some of the bank's people," hesitatingly said Ferris. + +"You alone knew all of these details! You came here and secreted +yourself at the time of the election," sternly answered the avenging +Little Sister. "You did not even sleep once in the rooms which +you professed to share with him!" + +"I acted under your father's orders," boldly rejoined Ferris. + +"He is dead; it is useless to say that! No one will believe you. +And you are lying to me now. You know and I know that Randall +Clayton was no thief. I know, in my heart, and all men now believe, +that he was murdered." + +Ferris' teeth chattered as he faced the accusing woman. "I am +innocent of all this," he faltered. + +"Then, find his murderers!" solemnly said the rebellious wife. "You +know the crime of the past which leaves its dread legacy of shame +now crushing you. If you can aid the police, do it! You may +communicate with our company's lawyers here. + +"But if you interfere at the office, if you dare to approach me, +you will be apprehended under warrants for robbing the private +records of the man who was decoyed to his death among you. One +word against my father's memory, one single hint of our marriage, +and the jail doors will close on you." + +"And, the future?" whispered Ferris. "Our lives are bound together." + +"The law in one year will give me a separation for desertion," +said Alice. "The divorce will be quietly obtained in the West; if +you resist, you know the penalty! There is a gulf between us for +Time and Eternity. + +"My father's murdered confidence, your Judas plots to gain a motherless +girl's hand, your wrecking Clayton's life! You can purchase your +safety in but one way: by obedience." + +The astounded husband raised his hand as she glided by him. He +followed her dumbly into the front drawing-room, where the three +lawyers waited for the end of the colloquy. + +"It is understood, gentlemen," said Alice Worthington, "that Mr. +Ferris has intruded upon me for the last time. I leave it to you to +demand and enforce the absolute protection of my privacy. Nothing +can induce me to consent to another interview, or to answer any +further communications." + +There reigned a dismal silence in the room as Alice Worthington +glided out into the great hall. Standing on the lowest stair, she +turned, a desolate and pathetic figure, with the golden hair rippling +over the marble brows. + +She steadied herself with one arm, and a slight cry of affright +trembled upon her parted lips as Ferris sprang forward, crying "For +God's sake, hear me! Just one word!" + +But Boardman's heavy, restraining hand grasped the deserted +husband's arm. "Mr. Ferris," he gravely said. "Our future course +will be dictated by your behavior. You must only communicate with +the Trading Company's lawyers on these affairs. As to the Worthington +Estate, there is our representative, Mr. Witherspoon. And, in the +interests of justice, bestir yourself now to find Randall Clayton's +murderer. + +"The chief of police has his eyes specially upon you, and so, I +give you a fair warning." + +Ferris, with flashing eyes, essayed to speak, but Boardman +significantly ushered him to the door. "It is peace or war, as you +will have it! We three men have all the secrets of the past. If you +attempt, in the slightest degree, to annoy our principal, we will +strike, and without mercy." + +As the defeated husband drove home along the leafy borders of the +beautiful Central Park--the one lovely oasis in New York's scattered +maze of brick and iron monstrosity--he saw his life lying sere and +yellow around him, his bare uplands scorched before their time. + +"Ruin, ruin," he murmured, and a craven fear now possessed him--a +fear born of his ignorance of the awful remorse of the dying hours +of the Croesus, the moneyed giant cut off in the midst of all his +schemes! + +"How much do they know?" he murmured. + +Rage filled his stormy heart; he would have struck back as madly as +the blind rattlesnake but for the craven fears which now assailed +him. + +"I must await my time for revenge," he muttered. "One touch of +publicity in this, and Senator Dunham would chase me out of America. +He must, at the last, protect me, if only to save himself." + +Stunned by the sudden onslaught of the girl whom he had supposed +to be but a pliant, hoodwinked child, Ferris sat long pondering +gloomily in his rooms at the Fifth Avenue, his head buried in his +hands. + +The weary hours passed in alternations of rage and despair. +Haggard-eyed Ferris sprang to the door in the early evening gloom, +as a sharp knock roused him. When Policeman Dennis McNerney entered, +he gazed wonderingly at the young lawyer. + +"What's come over you?" demanded the officer. "You have heard the +news? I did not dare to go up to the office, and so I waited till +you had finished your dinner." + +Ferris wearily gazed at his visitor. "What do you mean? I'm sick. +I'm going away for a change, and I've turned the whole thief-catching +business over to Stillwell, the company's lawyer." + +The policeman stepped back and softly locked the door. + +"See here, Mr. Ferris," he soberly said. "You should not leave +till the whole thing's cleared up. If you don't want me to follow +up your private inquiry, just say so." He handed to the astonished +man an evening paper. There, marked with a great scrawl, was a +brief item. + +"BODY FOUND IN RIVER" + +"Was That of a Young Man of Evidently Good Station--No Clue as to +the Deceased's Identity--Another Mysterious Crime." + +"A body was found this morning in the East River off the foot of +Baltic Street, Brooklyn. It was that of a young man about twenty-eight +years of age. The deceased was about five feet eleven inches in +height, of light complexion and brown hair. It was entirely naked +and considerably bruised by the contact of the wharves and passing +vessels. There was no mark found upon the body, which is that of +a man of apparent refinement and one unused to labor. It was found +floating by an Italian boatman and taken to the morgue. It had +been in the water about three weeks." + +"Well!" demanded Ferris, his hand trembling, as he handed back +the paper. "I have been on the lookout for your missing cashier," +quietly answered McNerney, with a searching glance at the agitated +man. + +"I have watched the morgue and all the police reports. When I heard +of this, I captured that Jew office boy, ran him over to the morgue +in a coupe, and he and I instantly recognized poor Mr. Clayton. +God rest his soul, all that's left of him!" + +Ferris dropped into a chair, shivering violently. "It will be +featured in all the morning papers," coolly continued McNerney. +"There's your problem solved. The poor fellow was decoyed in some +black-hearted, cowardly manner and done up for the stuff. It was +no common gang who fixed him for fair," gloomily concluded the +dissatisfied officer. "There were no marks of violence upon the +body." + +Ferris staggered to the sideboard and took a draught of brandy. "I +wash my hands of the whole thing," he huskily said. "If you wish +to follow it up, go and see Stillwell." + +"That's all you have to say?" cried the now suspicious policeman. +"I'm sick of the whole job, and shall leave town," sullenly answered +Ferris, as he opened the door and said, "Call our affair off! I'll +telegraph to Stillwell, and he can handle the company's interests." + +Dennis McNerney watched Ferris disappear in the swarm of Broadway's +evening loungers, and then directed his steps to Magdal's Pharmacy. +"I'll take that boy under my wing; and the published reward must +be mine. This cold-hearted brute may have had a hand in it. I'll +watch him night and day, and let the boy get over all his fears. +Inside of a month I'll find that woman, the hack-driver, and perhaps +this lame duck caught in the meshes. I'll lay low for a week, but +that boy and that woman shall tell their story to me alone, and +it's worth a fortune. I fancy I see daylight. It's a case of soft +and easy. Once the boy would be frightened, I would lose this blind +trail forever!" + + + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +THE LONELY PURSUER. + + + + + +Arthur Ferris was secluded from all callers in his rooms at the +Fifth Avenue Hotel until late on the morning when a million people +read the "featured" details of the mysterious murder of Randall +Clayton. + +Exhausted by the mental struggle with his now defiant wife, he +yet retained enough of his cunning to heed Policeman McNerney's +roughly-given advice. + +Ferris' rooms were littered with the score of newspapers over +which he had been busied since daybreak, and his breakfast stood +still untasted at his side. He wavered between his desire for +self-protection and his fear of the hard-featured Stillwell. + +In his own heart Ferris cared not a whit whether Clayton had been +waylaid by accidental thugs, betrayed at the bank, duped by some +insidious woman, or slain by an inner conspiracy of the employees. + +"The money is gone, the cheques will probably be replaced," he +grumbled. "Damn the company's interests! I am glad of their loss. +The Worthington Estate will probably make it good. + +"But I must go over and show up. I cannot afford to be suspected +here. God knows what game is on, with Stillwell now as chief of +scouts!" + +He had decided to make a brief visit at the office, and to then +visit Stillwell, and resign his vice-presidency, on the ground of +ill-health. "I'll lay off then, watch the game, keep silence, and +frighten them." + +The long, weary hours of the night had brought him one consolation. +As he reached for his hat and gloves, he laughed bitterly. "She +may pay a round price to be rid of me, and then I'll keep all her +secrets as well as mine! A kind of armed neutrality!" + +At the door, he was confronted by the grave-faced captain of +detectives. "You are wanted, Mr. Ferris, at once, at the company's +office," sharply said the official, with a comprehensive glance at +the room. + +"Stillwell is there, and we wish to take your statement. We propose +to avenge poor Clayton's murder. You were probably the last person +who had a confidential interview with him." + +"I know it," frankly answered Ferris, "and was on my way over when +you knocked." The two men soon joined a silent circle of the higher +officials of the company, gathered about Counsellor Stillwell, +in Manager Wade's office. Ferris felt the freezing taciturnity of +the detective on the short walk, and even more the greeting of the +gloomy circle. + +Bowing to Stillwell, the defeated schemer said, "Before we begin, +I wish a word with you in private." + +"There is to be no privacy here, sir," coldly replied the lawyer, +"save the actions of the police. We are all equally interested in +discovering poor Clayton's murderer. + +"As you branded him as a thief, you can, at least, let us all hear +your whole statement now. We have stenographers, a notary, and you +can send for a lawyer if you wish counsel." + +"I'll not delay you a single moment," resentfully said Ferris, +springing to a writing table. He handed a few lines to the astonished +attorney, and said, in a ringing voice, "Read that aloud! Let the +secretary give me a written acknowledgment. Then, swear me, and I +will make a voluntary statement." + +There was a general murmur of surprise as Stillwell read +the unconditional resignation of Arthur Ferris as vice-president, +director, and special counsel of the Western Trading Company. + +In the awkward pause which followed, Ferris remarked boldly: +"I intended to ask for an indefinite leave on account of breaking +health. I shall now remain here, as an ordinary witness, subject +to your orders, and with no other interest than to clear up the +mystery." + +In half an hour Ferris had closed his artful disclosures. "Any +matters occurring between the late Mr. Worthington and myself are +confidential as between lawyer and client." + +In the circle, Messrs. Boardman and Warner watched with ferret eyes +every movement of the man who only gazed into the faces of enemies. + +"That is all, for the present," significantly said Stillwell, when +the chief of police, the head detective, and himself had hurled +the last questions at Ferris. + +"I will then retire," defiantly remarked Ferris. "With this +statement to all men, I shall now be mute to all questioners save +the proper authorities. I have turned twenty reporters away this +morning without a word, and the police authorities can reach me at +my hotel, until they have closed their labors. Then my connection +with this company and its affairs terminates forever." + +He gazed fiercely at the impassive face of John Witherspoon, and +rising, with a bow of general adieu, stalked into the hall. + +But he turned as Boardman, Warner, and Witherspoon, following, drew +him into the room where Clayton had fought out his life struggles. + +"You may now deliver us the papers taken from this desk, and so, +escape a prosecution," firmly remarked Boardman. Ferris sat down +at the table and wrote a few lines. Handing the paper to the senior +executor, he said, with a cutting sneer: + +"There is my bill for one hundred thousand dollars for legal services +in the last five years for Hugh Worthington. Upon its approval and +payment, I will deliver over all the papers of our long intimacy, +and sign clean receipts. + +"I will then stipulate not to approach Miss Worthington in any +manner. Here are all the valueless papers you demand. Will you give +me a receipt for them?" + +"You took them surreptitiously! You can well afford to trust our +honor," snappishly said Warner. "Very good," added Boardman. "You +will hear from us, as to your claim, in due time." + +When Arthur Ferris' footfall died out upon the stair, Boardman +drily remarked, as he pocketed the bill, "The price of a scoundrel's +silence! Well, we will see! But the fellow really knows nothing of +the murder! Let us go to work, gentlemen." + +When they returned to the conference room, below them, on the street, +the deposed favorite of fortune was chatting with a new officer on +the beat. + +"McNerney? Oh, yes," grinned the strange policeman. "He has taken +two-months' leave and goes over to see his ould mother, in Oireland. +His home address, sure, I don't know. Mayhap the sergeant can tell +ye." + +While the bluecoat sauntered away, Ferris mentally recorded another +mistake. "I should have thrown the hat-box after the hat," he +murmured. "A few hundred dollars would have been well spent. And yet +he is probably in their ring now. His 'leave of absence' indicates +a very sudden return of affection for the 'ould mother.'" + +Ferris now decided upon a policy of open frankness and calm +indifference. "There is no one I could have made use of, but that +Jew office boy," he mused, as he sauntered up Broadway, "and they +have bought him out, over my head. I will let my little bill for +"legal services" ripen. I can afford to let my 'legal field' lie +fallow for the summer." + +And yet he cursed the memory of the innocent victim of the +mysterious murder. "But for her sentimental hubbub, I could have +easily managed Alice. This fellow's strange death gives him the +halo of martyrdom. He is out of my reach now. The old man must +have feared the 'Iron Gate' of Death! And, after all, his plans +to 'efface' Clayton were only inchoate. I cannot terrify them with +any hearsay projects. I must get what I can, cling to Dunham, and +keep silence. + +"The marriage! That means just the one hundred thousand dollars! +I will save it and my good name by submitting in silence." + +He signalled a passing carriage and ordered the man to drive him +far "up the road," out of range of the shrill-voiced newsboys, +hawking their "extras," with "Full accounts of the great murder +mystery." + +For a brief day the name of Randall Clayton was on every one's lips. +There were hundreds clustered around the morgue, where already the +mute witness who had drifted back under the arch of the Brooklyn +Bridge lay in the gloomy state of death. The hasty verdict of "death +from murder committed by parties unknown," was all the record of +the darkly-veiled happening. + +It was a blind trail, after all, which had ended this open and +honorable career in the sight of all men. The electric lights were +throwing fitful gleams upon the black waters whirling past the +Brooklyn Bridge, when the executors, with Witherspoon, gathered +around Miss Alice Worthington in the drawing-room of the Stillwell +residence. + +There was also the tired counsellor, who had also vainly probed the +officials of the company, the employees of the Astor Place Bank, +and every reachable occupant of the huge business building. + +Poor old Somers, for the hundredth time, had rehearsed his story, +and yet it all ended in a blind trail. + +While they talked of the dead, in hushed voices, Policeman Dennis +McNerney was chatting with Emil Einstein over the counter of the +Magdal Pharmacy. The keen-eyed policeman noted the efflorescent +jewelry, and the resplendent garb of the too-prosperous-looking +lad. + +Notwithstanding the Jewish boy's sudden prosperity, there were +deeply-marked dark circles about his eyes. The Bowery's delights +were telling upon the frightened lad, who had sealed his glib tongue +now behind lying lips. Flattered by the "cop's" familiar manner, +Emil greedily swallowed the ground bait artfully scattered by the +cool Irish-American. + +He reeled off the story which he had told to the inquisitors +of parting in the office with Clayton after Somers had given over +the deposits. Before the two separated, Einstein had forgotten his +Hebrew timidity. + +"Let me know if you pick up any items," said McNerney, giving the +lad a ten-dollar bill, with a secret sorrow at throwing good money +away. "My chum, Jim Condon, and I hope to help get this reward into +our Precinct Squad. Come down to-morrow night to the station, and +I'll introduce you. He'll look out for you, and he can write me +and keep on the trail. I take the next Cunard steamer for Queenstown." + +Mr. Ben Timmins, as host, drew McNerney into the little back room, +and the three smacked their lips over the "medicinal brandy," which +had been Fritz Braun's pride. + +"Where's the boss?" casually demanded the officer. "He went over +to Germany a couple of months ago," volubly explained Timmins. "I'm +cock o' the walk for a few months now. Drop in and see me, on the +d. q." + +Two hours later, from a dark angle opposite, Officer McNerney saw +Emil Einstein, with swinging steps, cigar in mouth, speed along +eastwardly. + +In plain clothes, his brow covered with a soft hat, the athletic +policeman dashed along, keeping his prey in view. The lightning +change of uniform gave him a clear protection, and in the thirty +minutes of his necessary absence, the mustache which was McNerney's +pride had disappeared. + +"Either he goes to his girl, or else to meet the woman of the +carriage," mused the man, who had sworn to reach a portion of the +now heavily increased award. "Once I locate his 'stamping ground,' +I am on the road to success." + +It was twenty minutes before the excited McNerney saw Einstein +slacken his determined pace down the Bowery. McNerney's heart beat, +in wild hopes, as the lad, with furtive glances around, began to +linger around the corner of the Dry Dock Bank. + +"Is it the ten dollars burning in his pocket?" murmured the excited +man. "Some cheap woman foolery?" + +His practiced eye soon told him of the lad's determined purpose. +For, in all the hovering movements, the office boy never left one +or the other front of the bank building. + +And none of the loungers, no street waif, no bedaubed siren +lingered in colloquy there in the shadows of the respected fiduciary +institution. "It's a poor fishing ground for the fancy," growled +McNerney, as he suddenly darted forward in pursuit. + +A woman, whose gliding walk and shapely voluptuousness of body +indicated the Polish Jewess, paused, and bending her head, without +a word of salutation, listened to the eager lad. The hands of the +two met, in the darkness, and then Einstein sped back into the +glaring Bowery, while the dark-robed woman pursued her way toward +the East River. + +"No bad walker," was McNerney's forced conclusion, as he gathered +himself. The unknown had swept around the corner from the south +and turned eastwardly to meet the waiting lad, with the sure gait +of one who knew she was waited for. + +On, onward, with undulating lissom swing, the veiled woman sped, +McNerney judiciously regulating his gait. And all her settled purpose +was evident in the measured flight, the head never once turned in +curious gaze, and the singularity of her march. + +At last, halting before a respectable-looking tenement-house on +First Avenue, the woman turned into the open hallway and paused at +the door of the lefthand apartment. + +In an instant there was a flash of light within, and then the dimly +outlined shadows of a woman moving from behind the linen curtains. + +"Fairly run to earth! It's a good night's work!" laughed McNerney. +"Things are going my way at last!" He hastened off and, jumping on +the nearest car, sought his own home by a round-about way. "Now, +Dennis, my boy," he said, as he stuffed his pipe. "One bit of +hurry, and ye are ruined! I have two birds to watch. And I know +her perch, their meetingplace, and the boy's own den!" He now saw +airy castles of Spain gaily rising in the smoke wreaths around him. + +"To-morrow," he said, "I will prospect, and I think I'll borrow +Mrs. Haggerty's boy, Dan, to hunt for a tailor in that building. +He is sharp and he can knock at the door by mistake, so I'll get +her general description. + +"If the janitor is a fair man to jolly, Dan must then find out his +pet saloon, and I'll make a new friend on the East Side. + +"But I must disappear, after I have met this boy Einstein at the +station. I'll have to slip on a false mustache for ten minutes. +Jim Condon can bring him out to me in the dark. He can tell him I +don't care to run up against the sergeant." + +On Central Park West there was a circle of astonished listeners, +when Doctor William Atwater had closed the conference by reporting +his inability to trace a single enemy of the murdered man. Counsellor +Stillwell, in a grave reverie, listened and abandoned all present +hope of any clue to the cowardly murder. + +"All seems darkness around us, now," he sighed. "The journals, the +police, the detectives, and our own private searches have failed +to locate any suspicion, however fleeting. + +"It only remains for us, while awaiting some unravelling of the +mystery, to unite in the fitting burial of the unfortunate gentleman, +when the Coroner has finished his dreary labors. He had not a +single enemy in the world! It was the fatal trust of the vast money +handling which caused his murder. And only after long plotting and +careful daily watch was he foully done to death." + +Alice Worthington's clear voice startled each listener as she said, +"There is but one faint clue clinging to the past. A transaction +which might have drawn upon him the vengeance of some one. I have +kept this secret until all else failed. + +"Before my father's death, even in those last hours of lingering +agony, he signed a deed as trustee for Everett Clayton, which +transfers to Randall Clayton one-half of the Detroit Depot lands, +or one-half of its purchase price. This money, nearly a million +dollars, goes now into the estate of the dead man!" + +"My God!" whispered Witherspoon, as Doctor Atwater grasped both +his hands. "If any one had an interest in concealing that vast +property, we must look for them, for the plot which led to Clayton's +murder. My poor father pledged me to secrecy until I had delivered +the deed and the legal acknowledgment of his property interest to +Clayton. It was for this that my father wished to meet Randall at +Cheyenne--to tell him of the fortune which had come to him!" + +The girl's sobbing voice touched every heart as she faltered, +"Judge Downs, at Pasco, drew all the papers and acknowledgments, +and, after my father's death, he explained all the details to +me. But father," she cried, with a gust of stormy tears, "told me +himself of the discovery of the value of this property, and that +he had feared to arouse poor Randall's hopes until the Railway +Company had purchased the land." + +Her voice died away; its accent of truth had brought the astounded +lawyers to their feet; but in a corner Doctor Atwater whispered to +Jack Witherspoon, who was shaking as a leaf in a storm. + +"Silence, my friend," he murmured. "This makes you a millionaire. +Say nothing to-night. Confide only in Alice. You and I must tell +her, alone, and later, of Clayton's will. If Ferris knew of this, +he is the murderer." + +The grave voice of Boardman alone broke the silence. "This is matter +of the gravest moment, and only to be discussed in the future, my +dear child," he said. "Gentlemen, we will suspend all our labors +until we have had ample time for reflection. We may find the +murderer hiding under the shadow of this useless fortune. For I +believe poor Clayton left no heir. Even gold can be useless at the +last." + +Witherspoon's temples were throbbing as Doctor Atwater hurried +him away to his home. "There is a mystery of mysteries, my boy," +sadly said Atwater, "in the strange turn of Fortune's wheel which +throws the millions into Francine Delacroix's pretty white hands. + +"Rouse yourself! We must think, act, and avenge our friend! It +looks as if the finger of fate plaits the noose for Ferris' neck. +For he did know all; he hated and betrayed Clayton, and, I believe +that he killed him." + +"Yes; or had him killed, to clear the way to Alice Worthington's +side," exclaimed Witherspoon. "I see it all, now! Old Hugh intended +to marry this noble girl to our dead friend!" + +But Jack Witherspoon only bowed his head and burst into bitter +tears. "Too late; too late!" he sobbed. The golden fortune seemed +stained with his dead friend's blood. + +When the morning brought once more the refluent crowds to the +streets of New York, a thousand financial agencies over the world +were now eagerly watching for some trace of the fortune stolen from +the murdered cashier. + +Police and detectives, the officers of justice in far cities and +foreign lands, were eagerly striving to gain the additional reward +of twenty-five thousand dollars offered by the Fidelity Company, at +Alice Worthington's order, for the detection of the secret murderers. + +But to Witherspoon and Atwater the night had been one long vigil +of earnest conference. + +Wearied out at last, Atwater decided the future policy of the two +friends. "Let Stillwell have his head, Jack," gravely advised the +doctor. "Keep your secret as yet. You know how that noble girl has +guarded her dying father's confidence. To save you, let me tell +her all, but only after the whole circle has failed to find the +murderers. I will not mention your name. But I will tell her that +poor Clayton left a will. I wish to see this million secured to +you. + +"Then, when she promises to keep my secret, I will tell her of the +tell-tale Brooklyn address, and you and I can join her in hunting +down the gang who lured Clayton to his ruin. She is the one arbiter +of the situation; you and I must aid her. We will know all the +developments of the police inquest. In this way, Ferris will not +be alarmed. We may trace it home to him." + +"You are right," assented Witherspoon, "and I will watch Ferris +through the office boy, Einstein, and there's a fine fellow, a +policeman, McNerney, down there. I've promised him a private reward +for any clue, and he told me he would lay off and go on a still +hunt. + +"He knows how to communicate always with me," concluded Witherspoon, +"and I will bring him into our circle, if you can gain Alice +Worthington's confidence." + +The great metropolis had almost forgotten Randall Clayton's +mysterious taking off, when, a week later, there was a sad gathering +in Woodlawn Cemetery, where Doctor Atwater supported on his arm +the black-robed figure of the great heiress, when the red earth +rattled down upon the murdered man's coffin. + +There was a scanty two-score of mourners around the open grave; +but Atwater felt the nervous thrill of the girl's arm as she turned +away. "Justice to his memory, reparation for the past," murmured +Alice Worthington. "I leave the punishment of his betrayers to +the vengeance of the God above, the One who knows all." + +It was with a thrill of coming triumph that Atwater listened to the +heiress when she drew him aside, in the great Stillwell drawing-rooms, +on their return. + +"You were Randall's one true friend here," the noble girl cried. +"These great lawyers are bound up in the affairs of millions. My +friends, the executors, have given up all present hope; they must +return to Detroit; even Mr. Stillwell and the police authorities +are in despair. + +"Mr. Witherspoon will be tied to the routine of the great business; +but you can aid me. Give me all your time, work with your friend, +for I will follow up this mystery until my foster-brother's name +is cleared of stain, and justice is done. Let us be a trinity of +faithful friends." + +And thus it came to pass that Mr. Arthur Ferris lingered, shunned +by all his old associates, and busied about his private affairs. + +Wandering about New York, he never knew of the ceaseless watch +upon him, his restless heart awaiting some new blow of the hostile +influence whose veiled stroke had ruined his brilliant prospects +in life! To his astonishment, he learned from Senator Dunham that +the entire secret programme of the company's vast interests had +been successfully carried out. + +He veiled his defeat, in very shame, from the prosperous statesman, +and, a new disgrace, he now carried the brand of cowardice upon +him, for Witherspoon passed him daily with a contemptuous scorn. + +And still, he dared not abandon his uneasy flitting about the +neighborhood of the company's office. His haggard face was now +known, even to Mr. Adolph Lilienthal. + +The startled proprietor of the Newport Art Gallery had sealed up +all his vague suspicions in his guilty breast. He never dared to +confide even in Robert Wade, sneaking in furtively to the "private +view" gallery. + +On one or two occasions, the anxious Ferris had buttonholed the +reinstated Wade, when the careful manager visited the "Art Gallery." + +"Do they know anything?" muttered the frightened scoundrel. He +dared not even breathe Fritz Braun's name. After nights of weary +cogitation, Lilienthal had buried Irma Gluyas' baleful memory +forever. + +"She cleared out a month before this strange murder," he was +forced to admit, "and Fritz Braun was off for Europe before this +deed. No; the poor fellow was either dogged from the office, or +else trapped on his way to the bank." + +Lilienthal saw his own profitable schemes all endangered. "If I +owned up to a single scrap of information, if I were hauled into +any court proceedings, my secret patrons would take French leave +forever!" + +And so, the prudent wretch merely adhered to his plain story that +he had sold the late Mr. Clayton an artist proof of the famous +Danube view. But, looking upon the unclaimed duplicate now in his +window, Lilienthal softly chuckled and rubbed his hands. "I am +a good two hundred and fifty ahead on that lucky picture." For +he could not find Miss Irma Gluyas to deliver to her the property +which was her own property. + +Far away, by the shores of the yeasty Baltic, when Hugh Worthington +rendered up his repentant soul, two guilty ones stealthily regarded +each other's faces in the little hotel in Lastadie, where "Mr. +August Meyer" had taken refuge. + +The huge "Mesopotamia" lay icily at her docks, and the graceful +woman had vanished from the cabins where her would-be betrayer had +watched her every movement. Fritz Braun's active mind had sounded +every danger now encircling his future pathway. + +There was a circle of fire around him, though, as he kept hidden +in the little suburban hotel, where his smuggling confederates had +found him a safe refuge as their chief. The grinning head steward +had helped him smuggle his unsuspected booty on shore, and, while +Fritz Braun gazed moodily out of the windows of the old hostelry, +he planned his future hiding. + +Neither the dangerous dupe at his side nor his hoodwinked associates +of the International Smuggling Association knew of the vast fortune +which Braun had artfully hidden upon his arrival. + +Well he knew that his life would pay the penalty in a moment if +the blood-stained treasure were suspected to be in his hands. + +And so, with careful craft, he labored to throw off all his +dangerous associates and quietly disappear to a retreat, already +decided upon, in the sleepy environs of Breslau. + +"First, to watch my lady!" he decided, for he was not deceived by +Irma Gluyas' apparent quiet. His first care had been to obtain the +New York journals' regularly arriving. "If there is any hubbub over +there, I will be on guard, before they can reach me," he mused, as +he glowered over his wine at the woman who now panted for liberty. + +Two weeks after his arrival passed with no detection of the murder. + +"Safe, safe!" he laughed. "The trunk is now buried a hundred feet +deep in the ooze of the East River." + +And he smiled in triumph at the precaution which had led to Leah +Einstein's hegira to her respectable First Avenue tenement, under +the decent alias of Mrs. Rachel Meyer. + +He brooded, day by day, over the skill with which he had arranged +for cablegrams to a safe address. The innocent cipher arranged for +would warn him of all possible happenings. + +And yet, at ease in his trust in the dumb fidelity of the distant +woman still his slave, he waited hungrily for the Magyar beauty to +trap herself. He was a man of infinite patience. Indulging every +seeming whim of his companion, he had never lost her from his sight +a moment since their arrival. + +It was on the fourth day after their refuge in Stettin, when Fritz +Braun stole out of his rooms at a secret signal from Lena, the +"stube-madchen," whose frank face had won upon the secretly imprisoned +Irma. + +"She gave me one of her diamond rings to pawn. I was to post this +letter and to send this telegraph dispatch to America," whispered +the girl. Fritz Braun smiled as he received the proofs of the +Hungarian's treachery. + +And then, Lena sang over her drudgery for the next week, for the +grateful Braun had filled her hand with gold. + +There was a strange gleam of contentment in Irma Gluyas' eyes +when she followed Fritz Braun, two weeks later, into the train for +Breslau. Her secret master had redoubled every tender care, and +there was a brooding peace between them. + +But there were gloomy projects in his busy brain as Braun watched +the Baltic sand dunes fade away behind him. "She is deceived by my +manufactured telegram from Clayton. She will wait for his coming." + +He laughed over the cunning which had bade her write or cable no +more. And, with a wildly loving heart now panting in her reassured +bosom, Irma Gluyas fell into a belief in Braun's story of their +flight from the revenue officials. "Thank Heaven, he is safe! He +loves me beyond all," mused the dreaming woman. + +"He will get the letter left for him with the faithful girl, and +follow me on. Once that I am out of this man's clutches, Braun will +never dare to follow or claim me. For, he fears the Vienna police +as much as I." + +Brave in her love, happy in her lover's safety, Irma Gluyas only +lived to meet once more the man who had awakened her nobler nature. +To be his slave, to drift down the years with him, was all she +asked; only to see his face again! She was held in Love's bondage +now! + +And, wrapped in her dreams of the future, she forgot the man at her +side, who now compassed her death. "I must make my treasure safe +first," he craftily planned, "and then lose this hawk-eyed devil. +But only when my future is secure beyond all reach!" + +With all his bridges burned behind him, Fritz Braun easily threaded +the network of railways of the Eastern German frontier. + +For years he had studied over the hiding place upon the triangular +frontier of Poland, Germany, and Austria; and now, he only longed +for a freedom from Irma Gluyas' haunting eyes. + +"Leah can join me later; but even she must not know of this fool's +fate!" + +Safe in his own conceit, Fritz Braun drew happy breaths of relief +when he was safely hidden in the little village of Schebitz, under +the frowning crags of the Silesian Katzen Gebirge. + +"Here we can rest in safety till the storm blows over," he said, +as Irma Gluyas followed him into the arched entrance of an old +half-forgotten manor house. "You shall have your books and music; +we can take a run whenever we like, and you shall have nothing to +fear, for my American friends will take care of me." + +And then began the double duel of wits, in which, all innocent of +suspicion of danger, the woman whose soul was struggling toward +the light again, hid the darling secret of her heart--the coming +of the man who was to free her from the tyranny of her past sins! +"His love will find me out, even here," she murmured, as she listened +to the wild breezes sweeping down from the pine-clad mountains. +"And I shall live once more--a bond slave no longer!" + +It was two weeks after their arrival when Braun felt safe to leave +his dangerous charge with the peasant spies whom he had gathered +as servants. + +His money was safe, hidden in the old manor house; and he felt the +skies were clear when he entered the money-changers at Breslau, +where he cautiously sold some of his smaller bills. + +On the table in the bank lay a copy of the New York Herald. His +stern face paled as he gazed upon the flaring head-lines. But the +audacious criminal's hand never trembled as he read the four columns +which blazoned the discovery of Clayton's body. + +Fast as the devil drives he hastened back to his secret lair. One +friendly thrill warmed his agitated heart as he read Leah Einstein's +simple cipher words, in the cable which warned him of a new danger. + +"I must soon be about my business," he gloomily decided. "This +Hungarian witch has some jewels left. It's only a few hours by rail +to the Russian frontier. She might, with her winning appearance, +easily find her way over the frontier of Poland. If she learned +of the discovery of Clayton's body, she might, in her love craze, +denounce me, even here. That would mean death for me; at the worst +only a short detention for her." + +The fear of the old Vienna crimes now hardened the heart of the man +who was once the prosperous Hugo Landor. "SHE MUST DIE!" he cried +as he sentenced her remorselessly. "But how? There must be no +bungling!" + +His whole nature was thrilling with the alarm of Leah Einstein's +warning. "She may have to clear out," mused the self-tortured +criminal. "Her only safe refuge is with me, and I could count on +her to help me clear away this wild-hearted Magyar devil." + +Fear now kept him from any further unnecessary visit to Breslau. +He pondered a whole day, and then sent an unsigned cablegram, +addressed to the woman he had rebaptized as Rachel Meyer. + +It was the simple phrase, "Schebitz-Breslau." + +"Leah will know that I am here, and in any storm can join me." +With a sudden access of generosity, he sent the faithful ally of +his darkest day a secretly-purchased draft for two thousand marks. + +And then the murderer forgot his danger, ignorant of one lonely +pursuer who followed up the blind trail of the murderer, now watching +Leah Einstein night and day. + +It was twenty days later when the poor cobbler Mulholland, whistling +softly, went out and closed the door of his little shop opposite +Mrs. Rachel Meyer's modest apartment. The frightened woman had +only left her rooms at night after the publication of the finding +of Randall Clayton's body. + +A horrible, haunting fear now possessed her. She knew the horror of +the deed. Stronger than the terror which bade her avoid the light +of day was the yearning to assure herself of the unruly boy's +safety. "If he is caught, God of Jacob!" she murmured, "I will end +my days in prison." + +Even the hammering of the strange Irish cobbler in the noisy hallway +relieved her. She had never looked into that open door but a pair +of gleaming eyes had followed her every movement from under the +disguised policeman's bushy false beard. + +"I think that I have the key of the mystery now," gleefully +soliloquized McNerney. "I am tired of playing cobbler Mulholland." + +In fact, he needed time for rest and study. + +A five-dollar bill had procured him the privilege of copying the +cablegram, when a telegraph boy had stumbled in, two weeks before, +to find Rachel Meyer. + +The words "Schebitz-Breslau" had given him no clue; but on this +auspicious day the postman had begged him to aid him in finding +the proper party to receive a valuable registered letter. + +The officer's quick eye caught the German stamp, "Value 2000 marks," +and the words, "Absender, August Meyer." "This is the fellow at +last," muttered McNerney. "The man, August Meyer, who sends this +poor devil of a woman two thousand marks. She is preparing to skip +out. Now, for Mr. Lawyer Witherspoon!" + +"The next time that this woman meets the boy, he must be arrested +on one corner by Jim Condon. I will seize upon her! Keeping them +separate and quiet, I may get the story. But I dare not tell the +chief, or I would lose the reward. Witherspoon must trust to me. +I must get that man over there." + + + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +ON THE YACHT "RAMBLER." + + + + + +Four days after cobbler Mulholland had sold out his little outfit +to a stranger, James Lennon, whose dingy scrawl, "Shoes Fixed While +You Wait," now stared Mrs. Rachel Meyer in the face, there was a +circle of three earnest conspirators plotting in the interests of +justice in the library of Counsellor Stillwell. + +The great house was silent on the golden afternoon, of the famille +Stillwell were busied in their varied occupations. The old lawyer +in his William Street legal cave, the ladies driving or chasing +the bubble pleasure. + +Around the library table were gathered a trinity of souls all eager +to avenge the unrequited death of Randall Clayton. The tired-out +executors were now on their way to Detroit, sharing with the +puzzled journals and the baffled police the hope that "something +would finally turn up in the Clayton mystery." + +Down in the Western Trading Company's office, the urbane Robert Wade, +now shining out again in full plumage, explained to the occasional +disgruntled stockholder that the Fidelity Company had paid in their +fifty thousand dollars; that many of the largest cheques had been +stopped, and that the Worthington Estate had nobly offered to recoup +the company for the final deficiency from the extra fall dividend +on their own stock, which was to gladden all hearts. + +"Poor Hugh Worthington!" sighed Wade. "If he had only lived to see +his cherished plan for freight control in operation. Our stock +has risen fifty-five points on the new deal. Mr. Ferris? Ah! His +retirement was solely due to ill-health. He has resumed his private +consulting practice. But, Clayton! there was an irreparable loss! +Poor boy! Some momentary imprudence must have exposed him. Thugs! +Thugs! Here in New York, in broad day light! It is monstrous!" + +And so the ruffled financial waters closed smoothly over the +forgotten grave of the murdered cashier. It was dimly supposed +that the "sleuth hounds" of the law were still peering about with +their fabled "argus eyes." + +But the two men gazing upon Alice Worthington's serene and +steadfast face on this August afternoon wondered at the fervor of +her high-souled thirst for vengeance. + +The broad, Greek forehead, the clearly-shining blue eyes, the firm, +resolute lips, her voice throbbing with earnestness, all spoke of +a Venus armed with Minerva's panoply. + +William Atwater's dark, impassioned face was lit with a fiery +enthusiasm, as he said, "Miss Alice, we have met here to open the +first of the seven seals. + +"Witherspoon and I have recognized that you have not unfolded +to Stillwell, or even the executors, all the last, sacred wishes +of your father. We feel that you have knowledge, suspicions, and +inferences, all your own. Now, to us, the last, the nearest friends +of Clayton, your carte blanche to follow this up means everything. +But we must have your directing mind with us; we need absolute secrecy, +the use of money, and your aid. We do not ask you to tell us all, +now. We only do ask that you will, at the right time, aid us with +everything you can impart. We will give you the most important +disclosures. I will give you my whole time. + +"And if you sustain Witherspoon here, I will hound down the +murderer, and, perhaps, fix a further responsibility on the only +man to whose interest it was to blot out Randall Clayton's blameless +life." + +There was a joint exclamation as the three gazed inquiringly at +each other. + +"Arthur Ferris!" + +"Yes," solemnly said the dark-eyed doctor. "He was luring Clayton +to his grave! He may have tried other plans, and, perhaps foiled +by Clayton's suspicions or by mere accident, have used the real +murderer here as his tool." + +Alice Worthington's golden hair gleamed out, as her head fell upon +her hands. Her face was ashen-pale, as she faltered out, "Have you +found any papers?" + +The girl bride's heart beat wildly. There was the imperilled honor +of her father, guilty in intent in her mind now, as she whispered, +"Is any one implicated?" + +"Listen!" said the young physician, rising and pacing the room. +"We have a trap set for a humble tool of the real murderer, whom +we believe to be hiding in Europe. We must act somewhat outside of +the law. Witherspoon must go to the Secretary of State at Washington +and get an alias extradition, so that we can later hold the real +criminal. We must use force, fear, even innocent fraud. We need your +money aid, your authority, and your secrecy." Miss Worthington's +face lit up grandly. + +"There's my hand," firmly said Alice Worthington, springing up. "I +have made arrangements with the executors for money. Spare nothing! +Let us all act together. You shall be my brothers if you bring +the cruel wretch to bay!" The young doctor bent over the girl's +trembling hand and kissed it in reverence. Turning to Witherspoon, +he simply said, "Call in McNerney." + +A flickering rosy red dyed the young heiress' cheeks as she gazed +upon Atwater's nervous, elegant figure pacing to and fro in the +dusky library. "Miss Alice," said the physician, "When I dismiss +Witherspoon and the officer, it will be only to send them to take +two persons into custody. From them we shall be able to find our +secrets which will lead us to the murderer. + +"And to-morrow I will come alone, here, and tell you that Randall +Clayton feared treachery; that he made a will, and left his little +savings to one whom you will respect and honor. + +"Of all this, not a single word, even to Witherspoon, until the two +suspected ones are secretly arrested. Not a human being must know +of the arrest, as we will use either one of the arrested to guide +me to the hiding place of the murderer. + +"I hope by to-morow night that you will know all but the fact of +the chief criminal's arrest! To effect his arrest, I myself must +risk life and even my reputation. Witherspoon and I have toiled +in secret since the disappearance of Clayton. + +"With you, we will win; without you, the murderer may escape. One +hint of danger, and he would take flight and be lost in Europe's +uncounted millions, perhaps in Asia." + +Alice Worthington's beaming eyes told of her new pledge of secrecy, +as she stood, a beautiful Peri, finger on lip, while Witherspoon +brought the stalwart McNerney into the library. + +The young officer, in plain, dark clothes, with severely shaven +lip, was the ideal of a resolute young Irish priest, saving his +Roman collar. + +But his steady eye kindled as Witherspoon tersely recounted to the +astonished heiress the discovery of the pocketbook, the picture +label, the secret visits to the deserted mansion, No. 192 Layte +Street, and the results of all his private researches. + +The policeman sprang to his feet as the lawyer logically recounted +his casual visits to the Newport Art Gallery, on finding a similar +Danube picture in the window. + +"In my opinion," sharply concluded Jack, "this Adolph Lilienthal +knows something. His glib lie that there was no duplicate of the +artist proof in America fell flat when I reminded him that I had +recently seen one in New York. After looking over his memorandums, +he admitted that he had sold one to Mr. Randall Clayton some weeks +before his unfortunate death. + +"Now," the lawyer cried, with positive deduction, "that picture +had been addressed to Fräulein Irma Gluyas, No. 192 Layte Street, +Brooklyn. I have the very label. Her name was found pencilled on +the card in poor Randall's pocketbook. Who can find the missing +thread to follow on this darkened path?" + +"I can," stoutly said McNerney. "Somebody who was anxious to get +Clayton out of the way used some pretty face as a lure! She was +thrown across his path, God knows how! The vilest crimes here are +concocted often in gilded luxury. He was undoubtedly killed in +Brooklyn. This woman helped to get him there! Two people must be +let alone, absolutely undisturbed. One is Lilienthal, and the other, +Ferris! And you must all use a thousand precautions when we act. +I'll have half the truth by to-morrow night. My chum, Jim Condon, +is hammering shoes as cobbler James Lennon opposite the room where +one of the suspects lives. And if Lilienthal or Ferris should miss +either of the parties who will be arrested, they may warn the real +criminal." The plainly-spoken words carried conviction to each +listener. + +The three friends were breathlessly hanging on the officer's frank +words as he now described the departure of the fated Clayton from +the street corner in the carriage with a woman, and decoyed there +by the boy. + +"Why did you hide all this?" was Alice Worthington's astounded +query. + +"Because the time was not ripe; because it meant the escape of +the real criminal; and because I want the honor of the arrests, and +the double reward. It means a life of ease and promotion, as well +as the glory of bringing the brute who killed Clayton to bay! Now, +Jim Condon is on watch. The woman is packing to slip away to Europe; +she must meet the boy again! I will shadow him; Condon will watch +the woman. Within three days they will meet, probably to-night, as +the German steamers sail in two days. We will soon have them both! + +"I've arranged for their safe handling." + +"And what do you propose to do?" anxiously cried the heiress. + +"Why," simply said McNerney, "the doctor and I will take the woman, +go over to Europe, and catch 'Mr. August Meyer,' who forgot that +the name of the sender of a valuable package is put on the envelope +by the German government. That has betrayed him." + +"And Mr. Witherspoon?" the excited woman said. "Stays here and +secretly holds the boy hidden, even against the law, until we have +the other. Then we can trap Ferris or Lilienthal, or both." + +"Is this plan your joint work?" asked Alice. The three men bowed. + +"And it's the only one, Miss," stoutly said the policeman. "One +word dropped to any one, and we lose the game forever! I go out +of my duty. I risk my place! But I've got three-months' leave of +absence. Condon has two." + +"I will guarantee your future," said the heiress to McNerney. "Go +ahead, and God speed you. These gentlemen will furnish all the +money you need." + +"Then it's a go!" bluntly answered the officer. "I feel it in my +bones we'll get them to-night." + +After a whispered colloquy with the two friends, McNerney offered +his hand to the agitated woman. "I'll risk my life for you, Miss," +he said. "There's a desperate man behind this deed. And it was no +ordinary woman who drew him into danger. Don't blame poor Clayton. He +may have met her as a mere fashion-plat on the Avenue. Who knows?" + +An hour after the officer had departed, Alice Worthington saw +the two friends disappear, walking away unconcernedly, arm in arm. +She turned away from the drawing-room window, in a stormy burst of +sorrow. + +"My father!" she gasped. And then, seeking the refuge of her own +room, she hid her tell-tale face. "Even if it leads up to the guilty +past, I can defend his memory. He was guiltless of this crime; and +Randall Clayton's name shall be cleared of all stain!" + +Over her virgin heart came the memory of the cold bargain which +had linked her name to the crafty Ferris. + +"Never, never, so help me, God! shall he lay his hand again in +mine!" + +For the first time in her life she felt the delicious power of +wealth. Only the silver-haired Lemuel Boardman knew of the armed +neutrality now secretly arranged, which was to buy a legal separation +after six months from her nominal husband in that obscure Western +State. + +"Thank God!" she cried. "The sale of his honor, his manhood, for +one hundred thousand dollars will seal his lips. He will keep his +bargain; but, if he should be found guilty?" + +All that night the heiress tossed upon uneasy pillows, waiting for +the tidings which might in time parade her name as the innocent +wife of a desperate felon. + +The motley crowd pouring along the Bowery at ten o'clock swept past +the Cooper Union on either side in search of the garish delights of +the oblong oasis of pleasure. Down Fourth Avenue from the Square, +down along Third Avenue, they swarmed. + +Eager, hard-faced men; painted, hopeless-eyed women, the vacuous +visitor from "Wayback," drunken soldiers, stray sailors, lost +marines, all were kaleidoscopically mingled. + +The strident voices of street peddlers mingled with the hoarse +seductions of pullers-in. + +Hebraic venders beamed alluringly from their open doors, gin +palaces, shooting galleries, mock auctions, second-hand stores +and brilliantly-lit "dives" awaited the unwary. "Coffee parlors," +museums, cheap theaters, and music halls, as well as the "side +rooms," were thronged with those pitiless-eyed Devil's children, +the women of the night side of New York! + +Roar of elevated train, clang of street cars, hurrying dash of the +ambulance, wild onward career of the fire engine, punctuated this +human maelstrom sweeping toward its duplex outlets of the morgue +or Sing Sing's gloomy prison cells. + +No one noted Witherspoon and Doctor Atwater seated in two different +carriages drawn up under the shades of lonely buildings on the side +street near the Dry Dock Bank. + +The window-curtains were down in each of these waiting vehicles, +and the drivers nodded upon their boxes. + +In all the guilty bosoms on the bedlam-like street no hearts beat +as wildly as those in the breasts of McNerney and Condon. + +"It's the one chance of our lives, Jim," said McNerney, as he +crouched in a dark doorway before posting his comrade. Both were +now in uniform, ready for a dash, and McNerney's upper lip wore a +movable prototype of his cherished mustache. "The boy comes down +Fourteenth Street always and by Fourth Avenue," whispered Dennis. + +"You watch the corner from this side. I'll nab the woman from the +other. Remember, not till they have met and finished their talk. +Then you can take the boy along with Atwater. I'll rush the woman +away with Mr. Witherspoon." + +It was twenty minutes past ten when McNerney saw the dark-clad +form of Leah Einstein swiftly gliding along in the shade from Third +Avenue. Onward she sped, never turning her veiled face to the right +or left, until she slackened her pace under the gloomy cornices of +the Dry Dock Bank. + +The policeman sprang into a dark hallway as she passed, holding +his breath lest the shy bird should take alarm. + +In a few moments Emil Einstein sauntered across the Bowery and +circling around the deserted bank corner, then settled down into +a slow, searching pace, threading the lonely south side of the +darkened cross street. + +From his hidden post, McNerney could see the woman clinging to the +boy's arm and pleading, while she murmured her prayers in a low +tone. + +"Not yet, not yet," mused McNerney. "He must get her whole message. +She must have time to get his last report." + +At last, as the tiger springs upon its prey, McNerney leaped out +of his hiding place, for the sobbing woman had turned alone toward +the East River. + +With a frightened half scream, the timorous woman staggered back +speechless as the uniform of the tall officer flashed before her +eyes. + +In a moment she was in the carriage, and both her wrists grasped +by Witherspoon's sinewy hands. + +But, before the carriage started, McNerney, tearing away the rear +curtain, saw Policeman Condon hustling the struggling Emil into +the other carriage. When it rapidly dashed away, McNerney grimly +said, "All right! Go ahead!" + +The officer's quick ear caught the woman's despairing murmur, "Emil! +My boy, my poor son! They will kill him!" + +"Not if you are sensible, Mrs. Leah Einstein," growled the policeman. +"But your boy's life depends now only on you." + +"Where are you taking me to?" pleaded the woman, her storm of tears +choking her voice. "That you will soon find out," menacingly said +McNerney. "Where you ought to have been long ago!" + +In the long ride across the great city, McNerney grew complacent +over his bold stroke in borrowing an unused store-room from the +armorer of the Twenty-ninth Regiment. + +It was after eleven o'clock when the three entered the gloomy +basement under the granite buttresses of the armory. + +In the lonely arched room only a table and a few chairs relieved +the prison-like emptiness. A man with papers spread out before him +scarcely raised his head as the three entered. + +While McNerney drew the terrified woman into a corner, Witherspoon +anxiously paced the floor. Fifteen minutes after their arrival, a +messenger lad dashed into the room with a telegram. + +"All right, now, McNerney!" said the lawyer, as he read the dispatch +telling him: "Party on board the 'Rambler.' Set sail at once. Will +telegraph from Tompkinsville." + +And then, with a smile of triumph, Dennis McNerney locked the door. +He placed the half-fainting woman in a chair before the notary and +began his inquisition. + +The look of utter despair in Leah Einstein's face softened under +the velvety, wooing voice of the man who had boldly abducted her. +In the whispered conference in the corner, he had skilfully played +upon that inexhaustible mother's love which is the one undiminished +treasure of a worn-out world. + +The poor wretch at bay little dreamed that cobbler Mulholland was +standing before her, and her tortured heart had forgotten all the +dangers of the cablegram and the tell-tale registered letter. "If +you answer all my questions," kindly said McNerney, "and make a +clean breast of it, you may save your boy. Do you want to do that +young man's life? He stands next to the electric chair now, for +the murder of Mr. Randall Clayton!" + +The heart-stricken mother was on her knees in a moment. + +"Kill me! Do anything you wish. But spare him! He is innocent! He +knows nothing!" + +"Let us see what you know, then!" grimly answered McNerney. "The +notary will swear you, and, if you tell us the whole truth, we will +help your boy. If you lie to us, God will punish you both, and we +will show no mercy." + +Witherspoon opened his eyes in wonder as McNerney rapidly drew out +the whole story of Clayton's departure from the corner of University +Place in the carriage. + +"You were the woman in the carriage on the day that Clayton left! +I SAW YOU MYSELF!" thundered McNerney. "Your own boy brought +Clayton the message. Now, where did you take him?" + +Witherspoon held his breath as Leah Einstein, between her sobs, +told of the fatal visit to No. 192 Layte Street. + +It was half an hour when the sobbing woman had finished her recital. +"By the God of Jacob! I never saw him after he went into the back +room. Fritz was with him there, Fritz alone!" + +The three men were as unmoved as sphinxes while McNerney led her +along. "I only thought Fritz wanted him to meet the pretty woman, +the one they called Irma, and then, while he was there, take his +things from him. He had only a leather valise; no diamonds. I saw +no money, and I was with the sick woman. Mr. Clayton loved her, +and used to come and see her." + +"Where does this Fritz live?" sternly said the policeman. "Everybody +knows Fritz Braun, the druggist of Magdal's Pharmacy. Ask Mr. +Lilienthal of the Newport Art Gallery. He is his friend." + +With assumed indifference, McNerney mixed a glass of brandy and +water for the woman, and walked the floor in deep thought. "Where +is he now?" at last asked McNerney. "This Fritz Braun!" + +There was a silence while the quick-witted Jewess caught at the +protection of the far-off hiding place of her quandam lover. "He +went away; I do not know where; and took the woman with him, this +Hungarian woman, this Irma Gluyas! Lilienthal knows; you can make +him tell." + +"Look here!" sharply cried the officer, in a sudden rage. "You are +lying to me! Your rooms are being searched even now! Your boy has +been taken away, and he will go straight to the electric chair. +He gave that poor man over into your hands. You took him to the +murderer's den! BOTH OF YOU WILL DIE! You were yourself getting +ready to run away to Europe! Your baggage is all packed! We will +force the truth out of your boy; you shall never see him. You can't +help him lie now! I was the cobbler opposite your door, and I've +watched you for a month!" + +For five minutes the men labored to restore the stricken woman, +whose tortured nerves gave way. "I shall now search you," roughly +said McNerney, "but I'll have a police matron here to do it. I want +that letter and telegram from August Meyer! I want the money--the +stolen money--he sent you. I'll give you just five minutes to tell +me the whole truth. It's life and death for you now. They are busy +searching your rooms." + +With a cry of entreaty, Leah Einstein tore open her dress. She threw +a packet on the table. "It's all there, all there," she wailed. +"And I will tell you all. I will take you to him. You shall catch +him. But spare my boy!" And, moaning and pleading, she now told +the whole truth. + +It was long after midnight when the woman scrawled her name in +Polish-Hebrew script under the record of Fritz Braun's crime. + +McNerney grasped Witherspoon's arm and led him away. "Do you see +the light now?" he cried, in triumph. "The boy and woman were +used by this damned fiend, Braun. You can see that she was Braun's +slave in the old days. The other woman is innocent of the murder, +and was only a handsome stool-pigeon! But, behind Braun, there +may lurk Lilienthal and Ferris! Braun was to get the plunder for +putting Clayton out of the way. Don't you see that Clayton stood +between Ferris and the millionaire's only daughter!" + +"What are we to do?" gasped Witherspoon. + +"You are to take the morning train and get the alias extradition +papers from the Secretary of State. Make it a strict confidence. I +will take this woman, the papers, and Doctor Atwater, and we will +grab 'Mr. August Meyer' at Schebitz. + +"Jim Condon will hold the boy on the doctor's yacht, and you will +take your notary and get the boy's full confession. Let him know +that he alone can save his mother's life. The moment I have nabbed +this Fritz Braun I'll cable; but I want to recover the money and +get the whole reward. You must get me five thousand dollars from +Miss Worthington, and the letter of credit for five thousand more. +I'll take an iron-handed woman along, a nurse, and police matron." + +"What shall I do with Miss Worthington?" demanded Witherspoon. + +"Nothing, as yet," said McNerney, with a significant smile. "Let the +doctor handle her confidence! I'll get all this woman's belongings +and put the matron in charge of her. The woman can work skilfully +on her fears. + +"To-morrow I'll take a peep at No. 192 Layte Street, then go down +to Tompkinsville with the notary. We will put Emil Einstein 'through +the thirty-third degree,' and in three days Atwater, the two women +and I will be off for Breslau. Leave me a free hand, and I'll get +your murderer and the money. But remember, one single imprudence +loses both man and money; you, your vengeance; me, my reward. And +I depend on this windfall to marry!" + +"So do I, Dennis," sadly smiled Witherspoon. "Go in; I'll do your +bidding. Count on the extradition papers and the money." + +In ten minutes the armorer's room was dark. "Not a bad evening's +work," said the notary, as he pocketed a hundred-dollar bill, +"and another one of those 'exquisitely executed engravings' for +to-morrow!" + +Long before Alice Worthington had lifted her stately head from her +pillow the next morning, the astonished Dennis McNerney was rubbing +his eyes before the location of the Valkyrie Saloon. He had stolen +over to Brooklyn with the "early birds." + +The streets were as yet unpeopled when he drew the drowsy officer +on the beat into the side room of the saloon where once Mr. August +Meyer presided in the evening. + +The two uniformed giants smacked their lips over the morning +Manhattan cocktail. + +"Now, that's what I call a cocktail," said Officer Hogan, as he +ordered up (on a complimentary basis) the Havanas. "This saloon +used to be a German sort of headquarters. But the new fellows are +our own people, the right sort. They knew it's an Irish neighborhood. +So they pulled down the sign 'Valkyrie,' and put up 'The Shamrock,' +drove out their Dutch kellners and put in good Irish barkeepers." + +"What's become of August Meyer, who used to have an interest here?" +carelessly said McNerney, affecting a familiarity with old history. + +"Meyer ran a hidden dead-fall and gambling house next door, at No. +192 Layte Street," said Hogan, biting off his cigar. "That was +before I came on the beat. He got to plunging on the races, betting +against his own games, and the poker crowd here cleaned him up at +last. So there's the Hibernia Social Club, the Democratic Ward +Committee, and a lot of roomers in there. It's a new deal now, +all around. + +"The whole house has been ripped up and there's a China wash-house +in the basement of that old mansion." + +"Meyer?" interrogated McNerney, as he ordered the second round. + +"Cleared out for Europe, so they say," carelessly said Hogan. "I +saw him driving in a carriage a few days before he sold out, with +a staving looking woman. He may have married a good thing, and +skipped the town. He was a shifty sort of a devil; but he ran a +square gambling den. And he had loads of money till he went crazy +over cards." + +It was afternoon when Miss Worthington was pondering over Witherspoon's +telegram from Philadelphia, that Officer McNerney was swiftly rowed +out to the yacht "Rambler," lying on the oily summer waters of the +lower bay. Beside him, the notary calmly awaited the materialization +of the second hundred-dollar bill. + +But, busied as all her secret agents were, none of the men now +chasing down the fugitive murderer were as anxious at heart as Miss +Alice Worthington. + +It was easy to arrange for the money Witherspoon had telegraphed +for; she knew the secret object of his visit to Washington, but +only that certain parties had been taken into custody, and that +there was light ahead. + +"My father!" she cried, as she fell on her knees and prayed that +the mantle of shame should not fall upon his yet raw grave. + +It was half an hour after Doctor Atwater and McNerney began to +question Emil Einstein that the young scapegoat at last dropped +his policy of lying braggadocio. + +Confined in the cabin of the stout schooner yacht of a hundred tons, +he had craftily fenced himself in with a network of lies during +the night, in preparation for the ordeal which he well knew was at +hand. + +His coarse, defiant nature rebelled when Policeman McNerney confronted +him, and he felt secure in recalling the narrow limitations of +the policeman's possible knowledge of the past. + +But at last the lad yielded under the hammering of the enraged +officer. "I'll give you just five minutes to consider if you wish +to sacrifice your mother's life, you young dog," McNerney exclaimed. +"We have her confession in full, and as you decoyed this murdered +man into her clutches, you are only saving yourself by a full +unbosoming." + +"And if I don't talk?" growled Emil, beginning to sicken over the +gloomy future. + +"You will be sailed around on this yacht till you weaken, till +we've caught the head devil, and then it only depends on him as to +whether you go to the 'chair' with him or not!" It was a frightful +alternative. + +With a sudden revulsion, the startled young rascal exclaimed: "I'll +give you the whole business, as far as I know; and if you'll save +my mother, I'll turn State's evidence. I know nothing about the +murder! I only know now that Fritz Braun wanted to get poor Mr. +Clayton into some out-of-the-way place to get the money away from +him. I only thought that he wanted to bleed him, using that pretty +woman, s'help me, God! I did." + +"We will judge of your story when we hear it," grimly answered +McNerney. + +But it was Doctor Atwater's measured courtesy which disarmed this +vulgar youth's pregnant fears. + +"We can show your mother and yourself to have been used as innocent +tools, if you give up the whole truth. But, remember, a little +smart lying will surely cost you your life." + +Atwater and McNerney listened, in astonishment, as Emil Einstein +unveiled the double life of his former patron. The inner workings +of Magdal's Pharmacy, the dual trades on different banks of the East +River, the duplex Braun and Meyer, and the whole scenario of the +Cafe Bavaria and the Newport Art Gallery--all these were faithfully +pictured. + +With moistened eyes, Atwater listened to the story of Randall +Clayton's chivalric faith in the beautiful waif whom a romantic +Fortune seemed to have thrown in his pathway, a creature of light +and love. + +When the long recital was done, both the inquisitors felt that +Einstein spoke the truth, as he wildly declared that he only thought +Braun was throwing a pretty woman in Clayton's way to get a secret +hold upon him. + +"I never dreamed of the company's robbing, nor of killing poor +Mr. Clayton. I got not one dollar out of it. I never had Braun's +confidence, and he followed me up, and used me, and threw me away +like an old rug. And Ben Timmins knows nothing. He's only a poor +drudge in Braun's Sixth Avenue opium-joint and whisky-store." + +"But Lilienthal, he knows a lot! Catch him if you can! But he's an +oily devil. He threw this woman against poor Mr. Clayton." + +It was only when the boy was thoroughly subdued that Atwater quietly +asked, "And Ferris? What had he to do with it?" + +"Nothing," stubbornly cried the boy. "Only so far as this: he wanted +to sneak in and get old Worthington's daughter, and all the money. +That's square! He hated Clayton. He used to write lying letters +to the old chief about him. He sent private reports on his life +to Mr. Worthington. I used to watch him. I often got a peep at his +papers, and he bribed me to pipe off poor Clayton. But you can hang +me if Ferris knew Fritz Braun. You see," coolly said the crafty +boy, "Ferris wanted the girl, the money, and the old man's favor. +Braun only wanted the company's money, and used the Hungarian lady +to draw Clayton on. I fancy, from all I could see, that Mr. Clayton +really loved that lady; and Braun could only use her to fool him +over there; then he took the chances to kill him to get the money. +No! Ferris is only a snake in the grass, a coward, and a cur! He +fastened on Clayton as a friend, and got in between him and Mr. +Worthington; but, he never saw Fritz Braun!" + +The boy's tone was convincing. "Then you let Braun know how easily +he could steal a fortune by getting hold of Clayton on his way to +the bank!" roughly accused McNerney. + +"Not me; never, on your life," defiantly answered Emil. "It may +have been Lilienthal, for Mr. Wade was often in that 'back room' +of his. Old Wade is a 'dead easy game,' soft on the ladies, and +Lilienthal may have pumped him and so put the job up with Braun." + +The recital of Lilienthal and Braun's illicit trading made Dennis +McNerney's eyes gleam. + +When the three men left the yacht at sunset, the policeman called +Einstein into a corner. "See here," he said. "I've got your mother +locked up in my charge. She is a decentish sort of woman, in her +way, and she loves you, you young brute. See if you can remember +anything more in your yacht cruise of a month. + +"Officer Condon will treat you well. You may clear your mother and +yourself; you may get Timmins' evidence for us to break up this +smuggling gang. There'll be a big reward there! I will see that you +don't suffer. Give the whole business up to Officer Condon. When +it is safe, you'll be taken ashore." + +Emil Einstein, watching the boat going ashore, felt a choking throb +in his throat. "That fellow McNerney's a smart devil," he said. +"He is on the right trail, and there'll be a fight for life when +he rounds up Fritz. He is going after his blood. And Fritz will +never be taken alive!" + +The stars were peacefully shining down on New York City, three days +later, when Miss Alice Worthington bade adieu to Doctor Atwater. +The mystery of Randall Clayton's murder had passed into a worn-out +sensation, and new crimes, new names, new faces, filled the flaring +journals. The firm hand of Witherspoon was at the helm of the +Trading Company, and even Adolph Lilienthal had forgotten his fears. + +The Clayton affair had been all threshed out! It had been tacitly +arranged between the friends that Witherspoon should watch over +Miss Worthington's peace of mind, while Atwater went upon the quest +led by the resolute McNerney. + +Far away under the shadows of the Katzen Gebirge, on this summer +evening, Mr. August Meyer, dogging Irma Gluyas' every footstep, +secretly exulted. "Leah is now on her way to meet me! And then all +the old scores will be soon settled!" + +The Hungarian witch, patient in captivity, breathlessly waited +for Randall Clayton's coming, still deceived by the false telegram. + +But, as Alice Worthington whispered her last secret instructions to +Atwater, sailing on the morrow, her heart was light, for she knew +her father, though stained with greed, had been guiltless of Clayton's +blood. "I will give anything on earth to the man who clears Randall +Clayton's memory," said the heiress. "Don't promise too much, Miss +Alice," cried Atwater, as he kissed her hand. "I will do my duty!" + +As the carriage drove away, she watched him from the window. Their +eyes met, and she turned away, with sudden blushes. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +IRMA GLUYAS. + + + + + +It was four days after the sailing of the secret mission of +justice when Witherspoon said adieu to Miss Alice Worthington at +the Forty-second Street station. With a wise forethought, the young +lawyer had succeeded in his innocent ruse to distract attention. + +Mr. Lemuel Boardman not only called the young heiress back to +Detroit, for the probate of her father's will, but sent on his wife +as a courteous convoy to make sure of the girl wife's acquiescence. + +It was none too soon. For a haggard anxiety now drew lines upon the +heiress' fair brow. News from the pursuers could only be expected +in a fortnight, and Witherspoon feared the strain of a momentous +secret upon the young beauty's nerves. Her soul longed for Randall +Clayton's complete vindication. "One hint, and Ferris would take +flight," mused Jack. "And if there were accomplices, they are surely +watching her every movement." + +And yet it was an ordeal, this parting. For the hundredth time, +Witherspoon promised to come by the first train to Detroit with the +tidings of the secret quest, and a score of times he was forced +to deny Alice Worthington's tearful pleading. "Let me know to +whom I can make restitution," she cried. "This will--who has it? +The beneficiary may sorely need poor Randall's strangely withheld +fortune!" + +"Only when justice is done will that claimant appear," firmly +answered Witherspoon. "You trust me now with the handling of your +fortune! Trust me yet a little longer with that secret. I will +telegraph you of the success or failure of our expedition. + +"And then all will be made plain to you when Atwater returns. There +must be no failure of justice. We will repay the villains to the +uttermost farthing." + +And, in his turn, Witherspoon was sorely baffled, for the sudden +appointment of Mr. Arthur Ferris of New York as Consul of the United +States at Amoy, China, had been duly gazetted. Only to Stillwell did +the eager Witherspoon confide his fears that one of the unpunished +criminals was escaping in honorable guise. + +"You are in error, my boy," confidently answered the legal Solon. +"We have had Ferris shadowed on behalf of the executors ever since +the death of Hugh Worthington. The fact is," he said, lowering his +voice confidentially, "Senator Dunham is at the helm in this thing. +You well know that old Hugh and the Senator were closely allied. +Now, Hugh blindly trusted Ferris, as the statesman's nephew, and, +in fact, Ferris is, to a certain extent, a very dangerous customer +for all of us. He had papers and secrets which might ruin his uncle, +and a discovery of the hidden relations with Hugh would gravely +affect our company's commanding position. Old Boardman has had a +week of private conference with Senator Dunham. + +"Boardman knew every secret of poor old Hugh's heart. Dunham and +Boardman have gone over all the documents and matters surrendered +by Ferris, and the Senator vouches for Ferris' future silence. + +"He has himself set off a hundred thousand dollars of our stock, +in Ferris' name (in escrow) as a guarantee of the young man's +silence. This is a present to Ferris, who let Dunham have the first +privately telegraphed news of Hugh's death. + +"Why, sir. Dunham turned the market for a half million on that! It +appears the daughter telegraphed the first news of the accident to +Ferris, at the old man's dying request. And Ferris cunningly held +it back, so that the Associated Press did not get it for a day. +Then came the panicky drop in our stock. Dunham sold huge blocks +short and filled later at the lowest notch, forty points below!" + +"I thought," slowly remarked Witherspoon, "that Ferris would perhaps +try to blackmail the estate!" + +"So he did," drily answered Stillwell. "He gets one hundred thousand +dollars in clear settlement of all his claims for legal services +for the past five years, as rendered to the Worthington Estate." + +"Oh! I see," bitterly remarked Witherspoon. "Each side puts up a +hundred thousand dollars as the price of his silence!" + +"And," curtly said Stillwell, "we now hold Dunham responsible that +Ferris does not return to America for four years. By that time +Dunham's senatorial term will be out. He will retire from politics, +and so, his record and our interests are secure! I always feared +that Ferris would turn up darkly in this sad murder business," +gloomily added the old lawyer. "But the whole secret inquest so far +proves to me the correctness of Boardman and Warner's judgment. +Ferris feared Clayton's natural influence over the old man, and +his own final game was the daughter's hand, and then the control +of the old man's fortune. He spied on Clayton, lied about him, and +at last brought about the estrangement of the old man and his only +loyal servant in the whole circle. + +"Poor Clayton! After his death he fell into a useless fortune! +Miss Worthington has already made arrangements for a magnificent +monument to him in the family plot at Detroit, and Randall Clayton +will be there beside his stern old master. But for Ferris' wiles +Clayton would surely have married that noble girl, and been alive +to-day, a happy man, in Detroit. + +"Ferris played a bold game and lost at last. It was the sale of +the Senator's influence for the hand of the heiress. And she now +hates him with an undying bitterness. But you can drop Ferris out +as a suspected murderer. No; Clayton was evidently killed for the +vast funds he carried. And we see, too late, that no less than +three men should ever be trusted to make regular trips with such +great amounts of money. But it's the old story of life. We are all +wise, a day after the fair!" + +Ten days after the stout "Rambler" shook out her snowy sails and +flitted away to Bermuda, there was nothing left to ruffle the still +waters of oblivion which had closed over Randall Clayton. Only upon +the face of Robert Wade, Esq., lingered now an anxious expression +of vague unrest. + +For the Newport Art Gallery knew the oily beauty of Mr. Adolph +Lilienthal no longer. There was a new face behind the proprietor's +desk, and the "private view" gallery was permanently closed. + +The furtive visitors came trooping in and went disconsolately away, +for the private hall entrance was sternly shut and the electric +bell removed. Night after night police, customs, and post-office +officials sat in secret conference over the mysterious threads of +the Baltic smuggling conspiracy now being gathered up while Mr. +Adolph Lilienthal languished in a private cell in Ludlow Street +jail. + +He divided his ignorance of what he was "in for" with the frightened +"Ben Timmins," who was safely locked up in a lower tier of the same +human safe deposit bureau, charged with "complicity in smuggling." + +The affairs of Magdal's Pharmacy were being conducted by a new +clerk, nominated by the police, all unknown to the Tenderloin +habitues, and a service-paid detective occupied the private office +where the secret connection between Lilienthal and the absent Mr. +Fritz Braun was being daily traced out. + +The summer flowers were nodding over poor Randall Clayton's lonely +grave, in the lonely cemetery of Woodlawn, on the September day when +a queerly-assorted party of tourists descended from the train in +the little Silesian village of Schebitz. Doctor William Atwater +was tenderly cautious of the comfort of a veiled invalid woman, +at whose side a sturdy nurse aided the watchful medical attendant. +And none of the gaping yokels of the town obtained even a glimpse +of the sick woman's pale face, as she was conducted to the covered +carriage in waiting for the train. + +With some show of state, a resplendent courier and a hard-featured +military-looking stranger drove in advance of the carriage, half +hidden in a hooded country droschky. The slanting summer showers +glittered in the half-veiled sunbeams as the party hastily drove +away toward the summer resort, two leagues away, where jaded +fashionables rejoiced in the healing waters of the Louisen Quelle. + +But no one of the gaping throng following the "fremden" guessed at +the errand of this motley throng. In silence the cortege proceeded +until a little by-lane covered with overhanging branches was reached, +leading down into a dell where a natural vista showed an old gray +mansion upon a rocky knoll. + +An untrimmed forest around still gave its shelter to bird and hare, +starting out from their coverts as the carriages rolled over the +grass-grown, deserted road. "It is a 'Bleak House,'" murmured +Atwater, gazing out of his carriage at the dreary crags of the +Katzen Gebirge towering up, overhanging the neglected demesne. The +young doctor leaned over and then whispered a few words in the +ear of the apparently invalid woman, who was now trembling like a +leaf. + +"Remember, Leah," he sternly said, "your boy's life hangs on your +faith now." Atwater moved a heavy pistol holster around under his +loose top-coat, as the droschky in front of them halted. He sprang +lightly out and walked to where the two other men were busied in +an earnest colloquy. + +McNerney, pistol in hand, was gloomily gazing at the turrets of +the gray house. "He may escape us," fiercely said the man who had +traveled from New York, eager to clasp the cold steel on "Mr. August +Meyer's" blood-stained hands. + +"Not so," calmly answered the disguised Breslau police sergeant, a +sturdy war veteran. "I have hunted here all over the Adler's Horst. +I know every crag and open spot. My soldiers are now hidden in a +circle all around the old house. The moment that our carriage drives +out into the open, they will close in and arrest every living soul. +Do you see that little white flag flying on a pole on that pile of +rocks? That is my signal that all is ready. Come on, now. We may +not be in at the death." + +Atwater had marvelled at the rapid work of the officials in their +three-hours' stay at Breslau, and now he admired the skirmishing +tactics of the veteran as the three men dodged from side to side +while the empty carriage slowly drove down into the open. + +The German sergeant threw up his hand and darted forward on the +run as lithe forms in rifle green were seen quickly swarming out +of the woods encircling the old mansion. There was no sign of life +in the low, irregular hunting-lodge, save a pillar of smoke lazily +ascending from the offices in rear. + +McNerney was racing along at the German officer's side, his pistol +drawn, and Atwater hardly turned his head as a squad of soldiers +darted out of the encircling thickets. + +"He is in there!" shouted a corporal to the Breslau policeman, now +eager to make the capture and share McNerney's promised reward. + +The screams of the frightened servants could be heard as the +assailants neared the house. Was it fancy, or did McNerney see a +grim, human face glaring out of the window of a round tower at the +angle of the facade? + +"Here; this way!" cried McNerney, as he stumbled into a little +garden where trellised grapevines in olden days made a shaded walk +for the Lady of Adler's Horst. + +The group of men stopped aghast as a woman dashed wildly out of +a door opening into a long conservatory. Her voice rang out in a +last, appealing cry for help. She was sorely pressed! + +Not three paces behind her trailing white robes, his face convulsed +with passion, Fritz Braun leaped along, in a murderous rage, like +a tiger in pursuit. In his right hand gleamed a flashing knife, and +as the frantic woman tripped and fell, the brute's arm was raised. + +But, throwing himself back into the "gallery position," McNerney +tossed his revolver at the point blank. The heavy crack of the +pistol was followed by a yell of rage as the American sprang forward, +planting his foot firmly on Fritz Braun's chest. + +Atwater had kicked the knife a score of yards away, when Sergeant +Breyman thrust his burly form in front of the fallen woman. + +But, McNerney was sternly covering the fallen form of Braun with +his cocked pistol. "Move, you dog, and I'll blow your brains out!" +he shouted. "Here, Atwater, get the handcuffs out of my left coat +pocket and clap them on this wretch!" There were a half-dozen men +now holding down the defiant murderer, whose right arm lay limply +at his side. + +The second carriage had boldly driven across the lawn, and Leah +Einstein leaped lightly to the ground. She was all unveiled now, +and Irma Gluyas uttered a faint cry as the handsome Jewess stood +spellbound before the astounded prisoner. + +Sergeant Breyman had already knotted a handkerchief around the +prisoner's bleeding arm, when Dennis McNerney, in a ringing voice, +cried, "August Meyer, alias Fritz Braun, I arrest you for the murder +of Randall Clayton!" + +With one shuddering sigh, Irma Gluyas fell prostrate upon the +grassy sward. "Take her into the house, men," cried the sergeant, +as a score of hardy soldiers now closed around the excited group. +"Go with them, Leah," said Atwater. "I'll just glance at this +scoundrel's arm, and then come in to you." + +When the riflemen bore the now fainting prisoner into the dreary +granite-walled lodge, McNerney whispered to Atwater, "Look out +for him! I must take the nurse and Leah, and try to locate Braun's +plunder. These Germans must never know of that." + +With all the formality of a martinet, Sergeant Breyman now posted +his guard, leaving a corporal and two men with the young surgeon, +for Atwater only lived now to see Braun dragged back to his punishment. +There was no mistake, for McNerney had whispered, "It's the Sixth +Avenue druggist, sure enough! I am a made man for life!" + +The few household servants were being paraded and questioned by the +German official, while Dennis McNerney, followed by Leah, glided +through the rooms of the second story. A glance told the practical +officer where Braun had made his own headquarters. + +"The southwest bedroom and second-story turret gave a view of all +of the approaches to the Adler's Horst." + +Guns and sharpened hunting implements easily showed Braun's +preparations for defense, and his presumed relaxation. + +When McNerney had glanced at Irma Gluyas' own retreat, he hastily +locked the door of Braun's separate retreat. The policeman's quick +eye had caught sight of the inner bolts and chains! "The stuff +is surely hidden near here! I must make my play upon his pretty +companion." When McNerney rejoined Doctor Atwater, the physician +had already left Braun to the formal questioning of the methodical +sergeant. + +Irma Gluyas was now sobbing wildly, her head resting on the bosom +of the woman who had been Braun's dupe as well as slave; the woman +who had feebly enacted the role of Madame Raffoni. + +And now the whole frightful truth had dawned upon the beautiful +Magyar. She gazed despairingly at McNerney when he quickly said: +"You can purchase your own safety; you can aid us now. Tell me, where +did he hide the quarter of a million he stole? For this scoundrel +only did murder to reach the fortune carried by poor Clayton!" + +"Kill me! Do what you will; I care not," sobbed the singer. "I knew +nothing of these crimes, of either one. Hasten, though. Search well +the second floor of the turret. This fiend spent all his evenings +there alone. He always locked his rooms, and the door into the +tower. Even the servants were not allowed to enter his den! What +you seek must be there! May the curse of God reach him! And now +is my hour of vengeance. He betrayed this poor victim, the man who +died through a noble love for me!" + +Only Leah Einstein and the resolute Atwater remained at Irma's +side as McNerney ran upstairs alone. The police matron who had +been Leah Einstein's secret jailer on the voyage was now listening +to Braun's stubborn negations of all Sergeant Breyman's formal +questions. + +Atwater, with a touched heart, listened to Irma Gluyas in her +passionate ravings. "The lying fiend! I will tell all! I will go +on my knees to pray God to strike him dead!" + +For, at last, the duped woman knew that Randall Clayton was already +cold in death when Braun had forged the lying telegram which bade +her hope for deliverance. + +"He watched me, night and day, lest I should try to escape! He +plotted to kill me, but he feared the servants. I always kept a +little peasant child here in my rooms, night and day. + +"Our old forester, Hermann, who guards the estate for the young +Count von Kinsky, who is travelling over the world for four years, +is good and true. He is Frida's uncle. And I told him all my fears. +I had only a few jewels, my own. Braun feared to give me money. +But Hermann was arranging to help me away to Poland, when you came. +Once there I would have been safe from Braun. He would not have +dared to claim me. And Hermann, the forester, is known to all the +officials. He has charge of the estate. + +"Braun feared him. He dared not take me away, for I would not go. +It has been the slavery of hell itself. But I baffled him! Four +times a day Hermann came for my orders, and I always left a little +light burning in one window of my rooms. Every night one of the +men watched. My food was prepared by little Frida alone, and she +never left my side. Braun dared not poison me! I waited, and he +waited. What did he wait for?" + +"HE WAITED FOR ME," cried Leah Einstein, in a fit of remorseful +tears, now anxious to save her boy. + +She seized Atwater's arm with trembling hands. "Your police +detective did not get Braun's first letter to me. He begged me to +come to him. He was to get rid of this poor girl, and I was to live +like a lady." + +The two guilty women were weeping together when McNerney stole into +the room. He drew the young doctor aside. + +"Our main work is done here," he whispered. "Now get these two +women in trim so they will not tell anything to our German friends. +You and I can handle this quest alone. I've found out his hiding +place!" + +While the matron delayed Sergeant Breyman below, Atwater and McNerney +ascended to the murderer's lair. + +"I at once saw that the flagstones of the fireplace in the turret +had been lifted," hoarsely whispered the overjoyed Dennis. "With +this old boar spear I pried up the slabs. It's all down in there. +A valise full of notes! Here! Help me drag this couch over the +stones, and move the furniture. The German police must not see +this. To-night you and I will gather up the harvest!" + +The athletic young men worked with a will. In five minutes the +panting McNerney said, "Safe enough now from the ox-eyed German +detective! Let us go down. How badly is he hurt?" + +"His right arm is merely disabled! It's a very severe flesh wound," +complacently answered the doctor. "Just enough loss of blood and +following inflammation to leave him as helpless as a lamb in our +hands." + +"I want to take the wolf home," growled McNerney, "and to see him +sit in the chair of death. I'll give him no chance to play tricks!" + +There was little sleep in the old schloss of Adler's Horst on this +eventful night. The regular pacing of sentinels reechoed upon the +porticos, and a squad of hearty German soldiers made merry in the +servants' hall with the released domestics. + +Stout Ober-forster Hermann listened, with mouth agape, to Sergeant +Breyman's loud denunciation of the wounded prisoner as the two +men exchanged confidences, in the dining hall, where antlers and +wolves' heads, grinning bears' skulls, and eagles' wings told the +tale of many a wild jagd. + +In the library, where Braun lay under guard, the two Americans +were as powerless as Sergeant Breyman to break down Fritz Braun's +dogged reserve. The only growl which escaped his bearded lips was +a muttered curse. "Damn you both! In five minutes I would have +silenced that lying jade's tongue forever." + +It was four days after the surprise of Adler's Horst when the strangers +left the estate to the care of rugged old Forster Hermann. Far and +near, the simple country folk came to gaze upon the "Amerikanische" +desperado, as the cortege of three carriages and two wagons drew +slowly away from the schloss. + +The soldiery had now all departed, save a corporal and three men, +and peace reigned over the woods given up again to the elk and +roebuck. + +Atwater and McNerney were astonished at Fritz Braun's stolid +indifference. The whole drama was now laid bare up to the fatal +moment when the entrapped Clayton was left helpless under Braun's +strangling fingers. + +The news of the capture, cabled over to New York City, had sent Jack +Witherspoon whirling away to Detroit to give to Alice Worthington +the news of the successful capture, and a proximate vengeance for +Clayton's murder. + +Braun's defiant mood still continued. The only request he had made +of the two friends was that he might have the necessary clothing +for his homeward voyage. + +With keen eyes, McNerney and Atwater searched all the articles +reserved for the use of the sullen wretch, whose inflamed wound +now rendered him almost helpless. + +The whole crime seemed to be now cleared up from the frank confessions +of Leah Einstein and the unknown Magyar beauty. + +"It has been a great campaign," said McNerney, as he saw Braun, +guarded by four soldiers, start slowly toward the village under the +convoy of Sergeant Breyman. "He spent but little of the plunder! +Here we have recovered nearly two hundred and fifty-five thousand +dollars in bills and good cheques! He evidently feared to attract +attention by any undue luxury." + +They had removed every scrap of the belongings of both the fugitives. +"I can understand this wretched Leah, now," said Atwater. "She would +have been Braun's willing tool in hiding his final murder of Irma +Gluyas. Braun needed her aid, and would have given her the slave's +dole of comfort. But this beautiful wanderer! She hails with delight +her return to America! Is it her frantic desire for vengeance? She +had learned to love poor Clayton! And her whole soul is fixed on +Braun expiating the murder. Prison she fears not." + +Neither man knew of the singer's fear lest an Austrian dungeon +might open its iron cells to her, should Braun be discovered to be +the fugitive Hugo Landor. + +"No one can read a woman's heart!" mused McNerney. "Judges and +juries, the journals and the public, fancy these poor wretches, +hunted down for their beauty, are different from their more +fortunate sisters. I've not found it so. There's some womanhood +left in every one of them, and there are manifold temptations and +weaknesses in the lives of many who walk serenely in honor. At the +last, all men and women are much the same; only, once started on +the downward path, not one in a thousand ever is checked! + +"This Irma is not such a bad woman; with a better chance she might +have been some one's heart darling for all time. The only thing I +cannot see is how Braun killed this man so quietly." + +Both of the friends had discerned no more than the final trap. The +fatal lure of Irma Gluyas' beauty! + +Braun, at last becoming distrustful of the woman whose heart was +rebaptized in love, had acted on the moment, and his crafty advantage +was taken of Clayton's headlong passion. + +"It is clear poor Leah was only used as a stool-pigeon; she is far +too cowardly to harm the meanest creature," said Atwater. "In some +way, Braun must have given Clayton a stupefying poison, and then +strangled him. + +"In that lonely place, he undoubtedly hid the body and had it +thrown overboard later. Of course, it was probably hidden in some +case or box, perhaps a great trunk, and then cast into the bay by +others. One thing is sure, we will never know from this brute's +confession. He will die mute." + +"You are right," said McNerney; "for he will go grimly silent to +the chair, a thug and a murderer, in heart and soul. + +"This fellow could have prospered in any decent line of life! He +is only one more to make the bitter discovery THAT CRIME DOES NOT +PAY! It is both stupid and useless. But the criminal only finds +this hard truth out too late. He will never get away from me, alive +or dead; back he goes to New York." And yet McNerney forgot his +keenest daily precautions, deceived by the apparent helplessness +of the wounded murderer. + +The strangely-assorted party were hurried through Breslau by the +authorities, and Sergeant Breyman proudly wore Doctor Atwater's +gold repeater as a parting present, when the train rushed away, +bearing the secretly raging criminal back to a shameful death. + +"I shall not sleep till I get that fellow safely in an iron tank +stateroom on the Hamburg steamer," said the stern-eyed McNerney, +preparing to lock Braun's wrist to his own. "After we sail, we can +have him watched, night and day; then, you and I can rest!" + +The secret of the vast money recovery had been faithfully kept, and +even when the "Fuerst Bismarck" turned the Lizard and sped out on +the Atlantic, few of the passengers suspected that a daring criminal +was imprisoned below. + +While Doctor Atwater keenly watched the bewitching Irma Gluyas +and the now happy Leah, the returning tourists supposed them to +be only a lady of rank and her waiting women. + +McNerney, sure of his princely reward, now never left his prisoner, +and the recovered funds were duly locked in the liner's great steel +steamer safe. + +So it was left to William Atwater to draw out, bit by bit, the +whole story of Irma Gluyas' wasted life. + +A pale-faced, stately beauty, steadfast and silent, was the wretched +woman who had innocently lured Clayton to the murder chamber. + +It was easy for Atwater, in his professional experience, to +discover from the final unbosoming of both the women, that Braun +had artfully drugged and stupefied his beautiful decoy, so that she +was incapable of warning Clayton, or interrupting the leisurely +disposition of the murdered man's body. + +"He must have changed his first plans," mused Atwater, "only guided +by his desire to have the money so imprudently trusted to one man." + +There was life in Leah Einstein's heart once more, for she now knew +that her graceless son was probably safe from prison. + +Sly, secretive, and slavishly devoted to the young reprobate, the +sin-soiled woman had successfully hidden all which could in any +way implicate the dishonest office boy. + +When the great ship neared Sandy Hook, William Atwater frankly +answered Irma Gluyas' wailing cry, "Why do I not throw myself over +there, in search of peace?" + +For the gnawing of conscience had made the Magyar girl's life a +torment. "It is not for me to judge you; it is only for me to help +you!" sadly said the young physician. + +"You have aided to bring many sorrows and sufferings on others! +Work out your own salvation! You were born a Catholic. + +"Your religion has orders where repentant women can toil among the +suffering in schools or in the hospitals. It has its great work +among the helpless. Hide your dangerous beauty there, among those +who give their lives up to good works. + +"And you will find peace and hope stealing to your side. God gave +you a life; you have no right to throw it away." The poor, repentant, +soiled one seized his hand and kissed it, while bitter tears rained +from her eyes. "I will work; I will go where I cannot be hunted +into a deeper hell than my accusing conscience brings up!" + +There was a grim vigilance in every movement of Dennis McNerney as +he watched the now haggard-eyed Braun in the tank cell far below +the decks, where Fashion's children gaily chattered. + +Only a few gruff sentences had ever escaped the murderer on the long +voyage, and only a horrible curse had answered the proposition of +Atwater and McNerney that a full confession might, in some way, +soften the brute's impending doom. + +The room where Braun was confined was bare of all lethal implements +with which he might effect a suicide, and two stalwart men were +his room-mates. + +When the quartermasters, at midnight, peered out for the first +glimpse of Fire Island light, Dennis McNerney, pacing the deserted +deck, almost alone, revolved his plan of inspecting the sullen +prisoner at intervals of every three hours during the night. "It +is a desperate human brute, that one," muttered the sturdy policeman; +"but, I've brought him safely home." + +While a wild coast storm raged, and the screaming gulls circled +around the plunging ship; while shrill winds moaned in the steel +rigging, McNerney crept down for the last time before sighting +land, at four o'clock, to peer through the grated door and see +Fritz Braun lying prone--a confused heap--his coat rolled up as a +pillow under his head. + +The wounded arm alone was free; the other, shackled to a broad +belt, was locked around the prisoner's waist. + +"He is sleeping like a child," mused the officer. "In a few hours +he will be safely in the Tombs, and my long watch will be over!" + +The great liner was grandly sweeping up to Quarantine, when Dennis +McNerney leaped from his berth and followed the startled cabin-boy, +who shook him roughly. + +"Come down, sir! THERE'S SOMETHING WRONG!" the boy babbled. "Get +Doctor Atwater, instantly!" cried McNerney, as he rushed down into +the ship's hold. + +One glance at the guarded door was sufficient. + +One of the careless keepers was clamoring for admittance, while +the other bent over a rigid form lying there, prone and ghastly, +in the gray morning light stealing in at the little porthole. + +"It happened while I was out at breakfast," pleaded the unfaithful +watcher, whom McNerney roughly cast aside. + +Atwater was at McNerney's elbow when the frightened inmate had +unlocked the door of the strong room. One shake of the recumbent +form told the story. "He has cheated the executioner," solemnly +said Atwater, letting the lifeless hand fall heavily from his grasp. + +"He lay that way all the while since your last visit," said the +sullen derelict keeper. + +A hasty search of the cell showed an empty vial. "Chloral! Here is +the key to the mystery!" cried Atwater, examining the coat, flung +aside when the body was lifted. "See this torn sleeve! The murderer +had hidden the bottle of poison here in the thick breast-wadding +of the coat under the coat-sleeve. He waited coolly for the deed +till the last night before our landing." + +Atwater again inhaled the odor of the narcotic. "Chloral, sure +enough!" he slowly said. "A two-ounce vial, and probably mingled +with some more deadly poison! Probably the 'knock-out drops' the +wretch used formerly to peddle to convicts!" + +An hour later a circle of astonished police officials stood around +the corpse of the crafty criminal who had passed beyond man's +jurisdiction. "A desperate wretch," said the chief of detectives. +"Fritz Braun, the mysterious druggist. He was prepared for the +worst!" + +With a quick sagacity, Doctor Atwater had concealed the press +news of the desperate wretch's suicide, having in mind the final +punishment of Lilienthal and Timmins. It was decided by the +police officials to keep the news of the recovery of the fortune an +official secret until all the crafty Baltic smuggling gang should +all be apprehended. + +In Irma Gluyas' cabin, Leah Einstein had divulged the whole details +of the cowardly crime, as she had worked them out. It was to Doctor +Atwater alone that Leah freely unbosomed herself. + +In return for the Doctor's pledge, now given, to save the precocious +Emil, the timorous Leah gave out the vital keynotes of the Baltic +smugglers' syndicate. + +For, at last, the ban of fear was lifted, and the frightened woman +made haste to avail herself of the official clemency offered by +the authorities. + +A half-dozen policemen sped away to concert with the United States +deputy marshals for the arrest of a clan of steamship clerks, +stewards, Hoboken hotel-keepers, wharf officials, and others who +had been the tools of the robust-minded Fritz Braun. + +There was a happy meeting with Miss Alice Worthington, who was +now seated in Atwater's stateroom, under the care of the triumphant +Jack Witherspoon. The cable had called her from her princely +Detroit home to be the first to hear the whole story of the capture +of Braun from the lips of Atwater and the jubilant Dennis McNerney. + +McNerney's triumph had been sadly dashed by the successful suicide +of the great criminal. + +"Never mind," kindly said the chief of police. "It was not your +fault! This makes you a Sergeant, Dennis." The happy officer's +eyes glistened as he saluted. + +And ten minutes later he knew from the rosy lips of the great heiress +that the full reward of twenty-five thousand dollars given by the +company, and the same by Miss Worthington was now payable to him +on the deposit of the recovered funds and cheques with the Western +Trading Company. + +"Five thousand of this is yours, Jim," cordially cried Dennis to +Officer Condon, who had reported on board to announce the well-being +of the office boy prisoner on the yacht "Rambler." + +"I'll take another job of cobbler work like that, any time," +joyously answered Condon, "and, mind you, I'm to be your best man +at the wedding!" + +For Dennis McNerney's new rank and fortune were to be the immediate +cause of his precipitating a hitherto delayed matrimony. + +The craft with which Fritz Braun had hidden away the poison in the +padded coat-lining suggested to all the insiders the manner which +he intended to use to rid himself of the repentant and defiant +Irma. + +While the chief of police arranged for the secret removal of Fritz +Braun's body at night, there was an earnest conference in Atwater's +stateroom. + +"I leave it to you, my brothers," she said, with a pretty blush, +"to arrange for the complete rehabilitation of Randall Clayton's +memory. + +"The whole business world must know that he was led to his grave +by an honorable affection, and that the momentary imprudence which +caused him to fall into Braun's trap was the only indiscretion of +his whole career. + +"And now, I have a right to demand of you both the name of my dead +foster-brother's heir. The million dollars paid for the poor boy's +half of the Detroit lands is on deposit in the Railway Company's +safes, awaiting the probate of his will." + +"HE STANDS BEFORE YOU," gravely said Doctor Atwater, taking her +hand. + +"Poor Randall! Some premonition of his doom haunted him. He had +saved some money, and by investments accumulated a little purse +of twenty thousand dollars or so. And this, and all his estate, +he willed to Mr. Witherspoon, as a wedding present for Francine +Delacroix!" + +"Why did you not tell me sooner?" reproachfully demanded the heiress, +turning her lovely eyes upon Witherspoon. + +"Because I wished to freely aid in running down his murderers; to +clear his memory, and because the great world would have misinterpreted +my zeal. I know the nobility of heart with which your father set +aside this property for Clayton, as soon as he found out the old +title! Had they met at Cheyenne, all would have been well!" + +And then Alice Worthington thanked God in her anxious heart that +her dangerous secret was safe. She smiled through her happy tears +as she placed her hand in Witherspoon's. "We will both cherish his +memory, for life! And I now only exact one condition: that is, +that Francine's wedding shall be from my home. We were schoolmates, +and sisters of the heart, though our home was a very quiet one. +My father was averse to all family intimacies. The executors are +ready to make the transfer of the money whenever you prove up poor +Randall's will." + +"And I," said Witherspoon, "exact one thing in return. I demand +the right, in honor, to refund to the Trading Company all the money +used by the murderer, the whole search expenses, and the double +rewards. There will be a princely fortune left for me after all, +and this money so used will vindicate poor Clayton's memory from +all blame for his chivalric folly." Alice Worthington bowed her +head in assent, as the spirited young man proceeded. + +"When you see Irma Gluyas, you will know what a strange fate overtook +him. For she has been made another woman by the manly love of the +poor fellow who believed in her." The Detroit lawyer was deceived +by the heiress' calmness. "She knew nothing," he mused. "It is +well." + +While Atwater busied himself in the removal of the two women who +had been Fritz Braun's dupes, and arranged for young Einstein's +meeting with his mother, and recording the joint confessions of +the two, a surprise awaited Officer Dennis McNerney. + +The cabin boy who had been allowed to bring meals to the wounded +prisoner, in fear and trembling, confessed to the baffled policeman +that Braun had given him a hundred-dollar bill which he had managed +to secrete in his trousers waistband, for the promised duty of +writing to Mrs. August Landor, No. 195 Ringstrasse, Vienna, that +her fugitive son, Hugo Landor, had died of fever in a Catholic +hospital at San Francisco, under an assumed name. + +The men on watch were all ignorant of German, and so did not detect +the last wishes of the intending suicide. + +"But I knew nothing," protested the boy. "I was always freely +allowed to serve him, and so I brought him a scissors and needle +and thread to repair his clothing, which had been cut to accommodate +his arm. + +"I thought that his little bottle was only medicine; for he hid it +in his hand, after opening the breast of his coat." + +"And so there was one last touch of feeling left in the murderer's +heart," mused the stout policeman. "He wished his poor old mother +to believe that he died decently. Let it be so! She shall not carry +this last shame to her grave. + +"And now, to polish off all the underlings of the smuggling conspiracy. +There is both honor and profit in bringing them to book. + +"Timmins and Lilienthal may be useful as State's evidence, for +this last fellow saves his neck, perhaps, by Fritz Braun's death. +It can never be known if he was only Braun's tool or the real +inspirer of the crime. He must have found out about the money!" +And so the careful lying of mother and son hid forever the reason +of Braun's plot. The boy was saved. + +When the stars of night shone down upon the great ship at her dock, +all signs of the gloomy happening had been carefully hidden. Doctor +Atwater had removed the two women, under guard of the well-rewarded +matron and a skilled detective, to his own apartments, where the +crafty Emil Einstein was brought to meet his poor, doting mother. + +The detective captain took charge of the unravelling of the whole +story of Mr. "August Meyer's" Brooklyn career, as well as the +secrets of the crafty druggist, Fritz Braun. + +There was a great symposium at Counselor Stillwell's residence by +the leafy borders of the park. The great advocate rejoiced at the +removal of every stain from Clayton's memory, and marvelled greatly +at the deeply-laid snares of the man whose body now lay uuhonored +at the morgue. + +"You will have to run the company's affairs alone for a month," +cheerfully said Jack Witherspoon; "for Atwater and I are to +accompany Miss Worthington out to Detroit. Only I bid you all now +to my wedding, which will occur in six months, and Miss Worthington +honors my Francine with throwing her home open for that quiet +ceremony. Atwater is to be the best man!" + +"Where is your reward?" softly said Miss Worthington to the faithful +young physician, as they looked out on the evening stars together. + +"I can wait!" simply said the young man, and their eyes dropped in +a strange confusion. + +But Alice Worthington was in her mind already wondering when the +weary weeks would pass away and free her from the tie binding her +to the man secretly banished to Amoy. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +MISS WORTHINGTON SHARES HER SECRET. + + + + + +The time of roses had come and gone once more. The woodland was +turning to gold again around the beautiful country home of that +successful capitalist, Mr. John Witherspoon, at Fordham. + +All the world knew of the stately glories of that recent wedding +festivity at Detroit, whereat, under the wedding bell of white +blossoms, Miss Francine Delacroix had given her hand to the man +whom all envied as he stood before them, the active intellectual +champion of Miss Alice Worthington. + +The serene countenance of the young millionairess was placid, bearing +a dignity far beyond her years, when she marshalled the friends +of her youth to witness the marriage of the man whose skilful hand +now guided the vast eastern interests of the Worthington Estate. + +It was only after the bewildering honeymoon days had passed that +Witherspoon, under the advice of Counselor Stillwell and the astute +executors, began to gather up all the loose ends of the Clayton +affair. + +The permanent residence of Witherspoon in New York City was exacted +by the growing cares of the vast company's interests. + +And so the young bridegroom had selected a temporary country house +until his vivacious helpmeet could be pleased in a choice of their +permanent city residence. Unchanged by the possession of his dead +friend's fortune, so romantically passed down to him, Witherspoon +ceased to try to unravel the dark complications of Hugh Worthington's +past. + +There seemed to be some peculiar restraining influence which +sealed the lips of Messrs. Boardman and Warner, and even the great +Stillwell but briefly referred to the strange compact with Ferris +which had seemed to buy the crafty schemer's silence for one hundred +thousand dollars. + +To the astonishment of proud old Detroit, Miss Worthington seemed +to show no desire to open her superb palace home to society, and +the great world slowly crystallized to the conclusion that she had +found a new field in the affairs of the vast estate now absolutely +under her own control. + +The beautiful girl seemed to have passed, with a bound, into a +mature womanhood, as if some malign influence had swept away all +the flowers from her path. And, in her daily walks, she avoided +the scores of gallants who now sought that richly dowered hand. + +"This is not as it should be," finally decided Witherspoon, whose +firm hand had cleared up all the aftermath of complications arising +from Clayton's murder. + +Busied with his own affairs, Witherspoon left the fate of Irma +Gluyas, the friendless Leah, and the corrupted boy to Doctor +William Atwater, whose frequent visits to Detroit were explained +by some vague plan of philanthropic deeds now occupying the mind +of Miss Worthington. + +The meaner subordinates of Fritz Braun's crime were all easily +disposed of, for both Lilienthal and Timmins were now serving long +sentences for defrauding the United States customs laws. + +And the Newport Art Gallery and the Magdal's Pharmacy were now both +matters of "ancient history." + +A mock auction allured the crowd, where the drugstore had long +gathered the degenerates, and a gaudy "Bargain Bazar" flourished +where once Lilienthal's inviting smile had wooed the unwary. + +And, as the pernicious smuggling gang had been routed, "smitten hip +and thigh," Witherspoon ceased to pry into the still partly veiled +past. It was only after Sergeant Dennis McNerney had dropped the +very last clue, that Witherspoon finally abandoned his settled +purpose of tracing down Arthur Ferris' supposed connection with +the crime which swept Randall Clayton out of the world. "It's no +use, sir!" muttered the sergeant, "He was capable of anything, but +he stands clear of the whole thing!" + +The prosperous sergeant had sifted to the very dregs the fullest +confessions of the passionate-hearted Hungarian beauty, and the +defenceless Leah. + +The complete history of "August Meyer" in Brooklyn had been traced +out, and McNerney triumphantly demonstrated the uselessness of +further search in No. 192 Layte Street. + +The old mansion had been in every way changed, and the basement was +now the abode of swarming Celestials, who had tinkered its space +up to suit themselves. There were no traces of the crime left! + +And so, reluctantly, Manager Witherspoon ceased to pry into the +private life of Arthur Ferris. McNerney stoutly maintained the +thesis to the last, that Ferris and Fritz Braun were strangers. + +"The women both prove it," urged the officer. + +"And yet some still unfathomed game of Ferris made him Clayton's +secret enemy. Ferris wanted that beautiful heiress; he wanted +to completely estrange and supplant Clayton, and so to reach old +Worthington's millions. For that, he clung to the unsuspecting +comrade of his bachelor life. Look to the West for light in this! +Believe me, if any one knows, it is Miss Worthington! She is one +woman in a million, a woman who does not talk!" + +"What do you mean, Dennis?" sharply said the young lawyer. + +The simple policeman stoutly answered, "I observed that Miss Alice +seemed to have gained a great mastery over Counselor Stillwell and +her Detroit lawyers. + +"She was with her father for hours before he died, and I'm of the +opinion that he told her many things that none of the lawyers even +dream of, secrets that perhaps even you do not suspect! I'm only +a plain policeman, yet strange schemes are in these millionaires' +heads often. + +"The great man had his own private uses for Ferris, and for the +Senator uncle, who knows what great designs ended with his death. + +"Believe me, she is following out her father's last advice; and if +she lets Ferris off easy, you must do the same! + +"As for Fritz Braun, he at first only intended, evidently, to lure +poor Clayton into the Art Gallery or his own drug-store, through +this pretty Hungarian, and, from a study of Clayton's habits, change +the valises and so rob him by the old trick! The bunco game! + +"But fortune willed otherwise, and Braun took the chance of +Clayton's faith in the girl. He did not know that Clayton was so +fondly devoted to the woman. + +"The murder was a sudden inspiration, arising from Clayton's headlong +imprudence. + +"And Braun knew nothing of old Worthington's designs, nor Clayton's +past history. What more Miss Worthington may know, you will never +know, much as she esteems you, unless she wills. For she is a very +resolute character, and I believe that she is quietly managing +Stillwell and the other lawyers in her own way. + +"It's clear to me that both Ferris and Braun used this poor office +boy as a spy on Clayton; only, for different purposes. + +"As for the two women, they were both mere puppets! Fritz Braun +was tempted by the unprotected situation of that vast sum of money +going daily to the bank. He easily learned that from the boy's +braggadocio talk, and then used the whole circle as a means to entrap +Clayton. As for the women, they are both merely what temptation, +misery, and surroundings have made them. I'm glad to hear Doctor +Atwater say Miss Worthington has some plans for their future. + +"As for the boy, your own design is a wise one. Transport him +out West, give him a fair start in some Pacific State in a decent +business, and then if he goes wrong, after his severe lesson, let +him run up against a smart punishment." + +Reluctantly convinced, John Witherspoon dropped all his final +investigations as to Arthur Ferris' secret career in New York City. +As the months rolled along he saw the justice of the blunt police +officer's judgment, for Miss Alice Worthington seemed to be an +administering talent of the highest order. + +"She would make a Secretary of the Treasury, sir," said the admiring +Stillwell. "She is old beyond her years--a rare woman!" + +By some vague influence, the personal future designs of Miss +Worthington seemed to be a subject tabooed between Witherspoon, +his wife, and Doctor Atwater, at the regular weekly dinner at +Beechwood, where the young physician was always a stated guest. + +Miss Worthington, already a Lady Bountiful, in Detroit, conducted +a separate correspondence with the young wife, the husband, and +the physician, the last her only confidant in the still unmatured +plans of a practical philanthropy. + +It was in the early autumn of the year following Randall Clayton's +death that Witherspoon sprang up in astonishment, when he unfolded +the New York Herald over his morning coffee at Beechwood. + +The cabled announcement of the death of the Honorable Arthur Ferris, +United States Consul at Amoy, China, was only supplemented by the +statement that he had fallen a victim of the coast fever. + +"This is the end of all," sadly mused the lawyer, as he saw his +immediate duty of repeating the news by telegraph to Detroit. + +"Whatever connection Ferris had with the secret designs of Worthington +is now a sealed mystery forever; the hand of Death has turned the +last page down." + +Witherspoon rightly conjectured that to Senator Dunham the death +of his once trusted negotiator would be a welcome release from the +tyranny of a dangerous past. + +"The statesman's immaculate toga is still unsmirched," bitterly +commented Witherspoon. + +"And now all of Arthur Ferris' busy schemes have come to naught! +His bootless treason, his fruitless intrigue of years, even the +hush-money on the one side, the blood-money on the other, are all +alike valueless! He lost every trick in life, even with the cards +in his own hands." It was a case of the engineer "hoist with his +own petard!" + +In vain did John Witherspoon await any personal comment from the +great heiress. The very name of the dead man was unmentioned in +the daily letters from her secretary. + +When Doctor Atwater returned from one of his now frequent "business" +visits to Detroit, he shook his head in a grave negation when +Witherspoon brought up the name of the dead counsel. + +"Something very strange there! Even Boardman and Warner seemed +averse to any conversation upon the subject," soberly said Atwater. +"I judge that the memory of Ferris is a most distasteful topic +to them all. I presume that the papers of old Hugh probably have +revived matters, which might as well be buried in Ferris' lonely +grave out there on the shores of the Formosa Strait." + +It was nearly two months after the cabled announcement when +John Witherspoon received a bulky packet from the United States +Vice-Consul at Amoy, China. He had not fully deciphered all the +documents when he sprang from his chair and, quitting the Trading +Company's office, hurriedly drove to Doctor Atwater's headquarters. + +Atwater saw from his friend's face that something of moment had +happened. "Tell me, Jack, what is it?" he asked with a horrible +fear. + +"Alice?" + +Witherspoon smiled sadly, as his friend's excitement betrayed the +innocent secret of the young physician's heart. + +"No! God be praised!" he slowly answered. "Alice lives to bless +some good man's life! But I have here a message from the dead, and +the last legacy of a crime! You must go out instantly to Detroit, +for I cannot leave our great interests at this juncture. It seems +as if the very grave had opened for this!" + +Doctor Atwater's eyes were dim when he handed the papers back to +his friend. "What could have goaded him on to his unhappy end! What +stings and whiplashes of conscience! Let us go carefully over the +whole matter together! I will telegraph my departure and then take +to-night's train." + +The few lines traced by Arthur Ferris' feeble fingers were supplemented +by a long and formal letter from the United States Vice-Consul at +Amoy. + +The enclosure of a verified copy of the will of Arthur Ferris, +duly attested by the consular seal, was accompanied by a statement +that the original and the keys of Ferris' safe deposit box in New +York had been duly forwarded to New York, through the Hong Kong +and Shanghai Bank. + +There was a sealed enclosure directed to Miss Alice Worthington, +the superscription being faintly discernable in the trembling hand +of the fever patient. + +And as both men gazed silently at each other, they knew that some +dark secret lay veiled there under the outspread wings of the American +eagle of the consular seal, which duplicated Ferris' private signet. + +With a strange interest, Atwater read of the last sufferings of +the unfortunate official. "My late superior seemed to be tortured +in his mind to his very last moment," wrote the Vice-Consul, "by +the fear that these documents might not safely reach Miss Worthington +through you. + +"Be pleased to give me the earliest possible acknowledgment of the +receipt of both the certified copy herewith sent and the original +with the keys and duly certified order for the delivery of the tin +box of the deceased to Miss Worthington herself." + +"Here we dismiss his memory forever between us!" solemnly said +Witherspoon, as he read aloud Arthur Ferris' last message. "It is +for her alone to bear him in mind, and to sit in judgment upon him! +What unrighted wrong drove him, in remorse, to his lonely grave! +I shall never ask an answer of her!" + +In vain did Atwater follow the enigmatic sentences. + +"I leave the fund of one hundred thousand dollars, created for +me by my uncle, and the similar sum now due and payable by the +Worthington Estate, to Alice Worthington for the foundation of +such a charity as she may deem proper. This money is the legacy of +a crime and of a wrong! + +"Of a crime, though only contemplated, of which I am not innocent +at heart, and of a wrong done, of which Miss Worthington alone +shall be the judge. + +"To you, Witherspoon, I can say that every mad scheme which I framed +to reach wealth and power has failed miserably; that I have found +my soul's unhappiness in the betrayal of poor Clayton's friendship. + +"And yet, as I hope for the forgiveness of an Almighty God, I +knew nothing of his murder, either in the deed or its conception. +Let me be forgotten by all the world, forgiven by one alone." + +The two friends long gazed at each other in a gloomy silence. + +"I leave the whole mystery to you, my friend," at last wearily said +the lawyer. "I will never try to read between the lines. Take the +whole correspondence with you. I have already had a copy made of +the Vice-Consul's letter and Ferris' own few sentences. I know that +Alice will surely consecrate this vile money to some good purpose, +and so I make you my ambassador. + +"She will understand why I hope never to hear Ferris' name again, +for I know and feel that he was a murderer at heart. Had Clayton +missed the snares of the deadly thug who coveted the money which +was so criminally exposed, for the golden bribe of the Worthington +fortune, Ferris would have sacrificed the only man who stood between +him and the millionaire's favor, between him and, perhaps, this +orphaned girl's hand. + +"And, as sure as the sinner errs, so sure is that old proverb, 'THE +WAGES OF SIN IS DEATH!' + +"I will simply forward any further Amoy enclosures to Miss Worthington +for her own action. The drama is done, the curtain has fallen, and +the lights are turned out forever!" + +Mr. and Mrs. John Witherspoon were enjoying the delights of a +Continental run a year later, when that bright-eyed young matron, +Madame Francine, read to her delighted husband the account given by +Miss Worthington of the opening of the "Free Hospital and Orphans' +Home," to which the young heiress had dedicated the estate of the +unfortunate Ferris, as well as a large sum set aside by herself. + +The Witherspoons were in the far niente, floating on the Grand +Canal in beautiful Venice, while the young beauty selected Alice's +letter from a sheaf handed to them by the porter of the Hotel +Danieli, who pursued them in a gondola. + +The married lovers were now on their way to the Nile and the eternal +glow of its cloudless skies. + +Witherspoon listened with a mock gravity, until he suddenly +interrupted, "What does she say of Atwater?" + +"Nothing," answered the merry matron. "It's all about the grand +opening of the Home." + +"Then, IT'S ALL RIGHT!" calmly answered Jack, lighting a cigar +and leaning back under the parti-colored awning. "When a woman +says nothing about a man, it's surely all right. I can wait, wait +patiently, till her philanthropic fever abates. I suppose that we +will hear something at the First Cataract, or at Khartoum. or some +other remote spot, perhaps where the lion basks upon the tomb of +ruined Palmyra! There is a happy crisis approaching 'in the near +future,' as the swell journals say." + +There were many interesting details lost to the runaway lovers by +their wanderings, but the essential facts finally reached them in +Calcutta, on their homeward way around the world. + +Neither Alice Worthington nor the man who was now her coadjutor +in many noble works could ever exactly recall the sequence of the +events which had prolonged indefinitely Atwater's stay in Detroit. + +But it had happened upon a winter evening, when the great Worthington +mansion was silent, and Mrs. Hayward, Alice's duenna and general +almoner, had artfully stolen away, leaving the unconscious lovers +together. + +The successful working of the Hospital and Home was now assured +beyond a doubt. + +Atwater, gazing out into the glowing embers of the great fireplace, +slowly said, as the musical chime of the silver bells of the mantel +clock sounded ten: + +"And now I feel that Messrs. Boardman and Warner can oversee your +local Medical Board and keep the institution from lapsing into the +dry rot of a purely charitable organization." + +"I fear for nothing," he said, smiling faintly, "as long as you +are here to watch it. And," he hastily added, "certainly you can +trust Irma Gluyas! That poor woman finds a fiery zeal from her past +sorrows spurring her on. She is a faithful assistant manageress. + +"And even Leah Einstein has her humble merit as a sterling housekeeper. +But, you must have Jack carefully watch over that boy out in the +West. Young Emil needs a firm hand, and only Witherspoon can hold +him down to usefulness." + +"Why are you telling me all these things?" suddenly said Alice +Worthington, her cheeks paling in a strange dismay. + +"Because," said the young man, slowly, "I have long desired to +follow out a special line of medical investigation in Vienna. I +have the two years yet before I reach thirty, in which I propose +to make my mark in original research, or else return to New York +to my old routine, fortified by the contact of the ablest medical +minds in the world." + +"This is impossible! YOU SHALL NOT GO!" suddenly cried Alice +Worthington, with pallid cheeks aflame with sudden blushes. Her bosom +was heaving in some strange tumult as Atwater took her trembling +hands in his own. + +"It would be so hard for me to say 'Good bye," he almost whispered, +"that I have decided to write you from New York. I have already +secured my passage on the 'Paris.'" + +"And you will not allow me to recompense you for all you have done?" +whispered Alice, bravely strugbling to keep back her tears. + +"Yes; I will," resolutely answered Atwater. "Go on lifting up the +lowly, bind up their bruised hearts, and all good men will bless +your name. That will be my reward!" + +"Wait a moment," faltered Alice, as she sped away. + +Left alone in the room, Atwater, gazing into the fire, listened +for the returning footfall of the woman whose face had long haunted +his pillow. + +"You alone, of all the world," said the beautiful woman, as she +glided to his side. "You alone are entitled to my confidence. + +"Only you should know the story of my life!" + +She handed him the letter which had been Arthur Ferris' eternal +farewell to the woman who had never even borne his name. + +He started forward, with arms extended, as he read that last message +from beyond the sea. "It means that I am to keep your innocent +secret!" + +"There is nothing hidden now," the loving woman shyly said. "IT +MEANS THAT YOU ARE NOT TO GO!" + +They were still tranced there in their happiness when the silver +bells chimed out again. The ruddy fire-light lit up their faces, +glowing with the hidden love which had at last found its voice as +the shadow of parting fell upon them. + +"Auf wiederschen, dearest heart!" cried Atwater. "We will lead +the noble life together, please God, to the end!" + +"Hand in hand, and heart to heart," whispered the loving woman, +whose happy eyes saw no cloud of the past now lowering upon her. +And, even in the flush of the new-born joy she was true to her +solemn vow. + +"No shame rests upon my father's name," she murmured, that night, +in her prayers. "The works that men do live after them, and in his +name I will build up a monument of good works over the tomb where +the secret of his life's temptation lies buried with him." + +The gleaming stars shone down tenderly upon the happy lover speeding +homeward, for the bells of joy were ringing in his awakened heart. +"I must try and get these glad tidings to our wanderers abroad," +mused Atwater. + +And this, stripped of some merely personal happenings, with a +gracious confirmation by Alice, was the budget of good news which +greeted the Witherspoons on their arrival at Calcutta. + +"Jack!" joyously cried Madame Francine, "I have only been waiting +for this official confirmation for some months. Alice writes me to +hasten back so as to be the star guest of the coming wedding." + +"I have had a firm faith also," drily rejoined her husband, "that +in due time Alice's field of philanthropy would enlarge itself to +include our friend. And so, it's all well that ends well! Here's +for home, then, when you will!" + +[THE END.] + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE MIDNIGHT PASSENGER *** + +This file should be named 8midn10.txt or 8midn10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, 8midn11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, 8midn10a.txt + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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