The boy shook hands nicely, he was neither too bashful, nor too brash, and some facetious remarks were made all around.
"I tell Boardman," said the doctor, "that if he had done his duty by his country and had had half a dozen sons like you he would have no time to be worrying about his appendix now."
"Has your father got half a dozen like you?" I asked.
An expression of pain ran across the boy's face. "I have no brothers," he said. "My father is dead."
"Well, since you're a fatherless son, and I'm a sonless father—with an appendix, perhaps we can cheer each other up a little," I said. "Will you have dinner with me at my hotel to-night?"
Boys never see anything suspicious in sudden overtures of friendship. Ralph accepted, blushing with pleasure.
The dinner was a great success. I don't know which of us was the better entertained. My young friend's prattle, ingenuous, boastful, lightheaded, renewed my own boyhood. It was rather painful though to see one naturally so frank, obliged to pull up when he found himself approaching dangerous ground. Then he would glance at me to see if I had noticed anything.
I had him several times after that. It was a risk, of course, but one must take risks. At the same time I was pretty sure from Mr. Dunsany's reports that Ralph never talked of his outside affairs to any of the gang. At least he never told Mr. Dunsany anything about his dinners with Mr. Boardman at the Rotterdam, and he was friendly with him.
The dénouement of this incident really belongs a little later in my story, but for the sake of continuity I will give it here.
I soon saw that I would have no difficulty in winning Ralph's full confidence. His gratitude for friendliness was very affecting. I could see that he often wished to bare his painful secret. I let him take his own time about it.
It was the doctor's offering him a position in a friend's office that brought matters to a head. Ralph refused it with a painful air. He could give no reason for it to the doctor. Afterwards when I had him alone with me I saw that it was coming.
"That certainly was decent of Dr. ——," he said diffidently. "I don't know why he's so good to me."
"Oh, you're not a bad sort of boy," I said lightly.
"You, too," he said shyly. "Especially you. I—I never had a man friend before."
I smiled encouragingly.
"I suppose you wonder why I couldn't take the position?" he went on.
"That's your affair."
"But I want to tell you. I—I wouldn't be allowed to take it. I am not a free agent."
"Perhaps we could help you to be one," I suggested.
"I don't know. Maybe you wouldn't want to have anything more to do with me. Oh, there's a lot I want to tell you!" he cried imploringly. "But I don't know how you'll take it."
"Try me."
"Would you—would you kick me out," he said, agitated and breathless, "if you knew that my dad had committed a forgery, if you knew that he had died in prison?"
"Why, no," I said calmly, "I suspect you were not responsible for that."
A sigh of relief escaped him. "You are kind!—But that's only the beginning," he went on. "But I feel I can tell you now. I'm in an awful hole. I suppose you will think I'm a weak character for not trying to get out of it more, and I am weak, but I didn't know what to do!"
"Tell me all about it," I said.
And he did; all about Lorina and Foxy and Jumbo as he knew them. They didn't trust him far. He knew nothing of their actual operations, but his honest young heart told him they were crooks. Lorina held him under a spell of terror. He had not up to this time been able to conceive of the idea of escaping her. There are those who would blame the boy, I have no doubt, but I am not one of them. I have seen too often that a mind which may afterwards become strong and self-reliant is at Ralph's age fatally subservient to older minds. Those who would blame him should remember that until he met the doctor and me he had not a disinterested friend in the world. They must grant that he instantly reacted to kindness and decent feelings.
"How did you first get into this mess?" I asked, strongly curious.
"I'd have to tell you my whole life to explain that."
"Fire away."
I will give you Ralph's story somewhat abridged.
"My mother died when I was a baby," he said. "I do not remember her. My father and I lived alone with servants who were always changing. We did not seem to catch on with people. I mean, we didn't seem to have friends like everybody had. I thought this was strange when I was little. My father was quite an old man, but we got along pretty well. He was what they called a handwriting expert. He wrote books about handwriting. Lawyers consulted him, and he gave evidence at trials."
"What was his name?" I asked.
"David Andrus."
Now I remembered the trial of David Andrus, so I was in a position to check up that part of Ralph's story.
"I was twelve years old," he went on, "when Mrs. Mansfield first began coming to our apartment. I don't know where or how my father met her, of course. He knew her pretty well already when I first saw her. At first she was kind to me, and brought me things, and I was fond of her. I told myself we had a friend like anybody else now. I used to brag about her in school.
"Bye and bye I found out, I don't know how, that she was a sham, that her kindness meant nothing. Little by little I began to hate her, though I was careful not to let her see it, for I was afraid of her cold blue eye. Besides my father became more and more crazy about her. He seemed to lose his good sense as far as she was concerned. She could make him do anything she wanted. Children see more than they are supposed to.
"It is three years now since the crash came. I was fourteen then. One day my father was arrested and taken to the Tombs. Mrs. Mansfield took me to her house, not the same one she has now. She treated me all right, but I hated her. Young as I was I held her responsible. I didn't see much of her. I don't know if you remember the trial——?"
"Something of it," said I.
"The papers were full of it. I was not allowed to attend, but, of course, I got hold of all the papers. They said that my father had got hold of blank stock certificates by corrupting young clerks, and had then forged signatures to them and sold them on the stock market. He was sentenced to Sing Sing for seven years. They took me to see him before he was sent away. He had aged twenty years. He wasn't able to say much to me."
"Mrs. Mansfield told me I must change my name, and sent me to a good school in Connecticut. She paid the bills. I was pretty happy there, though this thing was always hanging over my head. In the summers I was sent away to a boy's camp in the mountains. Mrs. Mansfield told me nobody was allowed to see my father or to write to him and I believed her. So it was the same to me as if he had died.
"One day last winter in school I received a letter signed "Well-Wisher," asking me to meet the writer at a certain spot in the school woods that afternoon. Naturally I was excited by the mystery and all that. I was scared, too. But I went. I didn't tell anybody."
"I found a queer customer waiting for me. A man about fifty with close-cropped hair. He told me right off that he was just out of Sing Sing. Why hadn't I ever come to see my dad, he asked. He said it was pitiful the way he pined for me."
"I stammered out that I didn't know anybody could see him. He told me about the visiting days. 'Anyhow you could have written,' he said."
"'He never wrote to me,' I said.
"'Sure, doesn't he write to you every writing day! He has read me the letters. Elegant letters."
"'I never got them!' I said."
"'That's why I came,' he said. 'Dave said he thought that woman had come between you.'"
"The old fellow told me how to address a letter to my father, and he gave me money to go to Sing Sing when I could. I had an allowance from Mrs. Mansfield, but not enough for that. I wrote to my father that night."
"It was Easter before I had the chance to see my father. I made out to Mrs. Mansfield that the school closed a day later than it did, and I used that day to go to Sing Sing. My father was in the infirmary. I scarcely recognised him. They let me stay all day. Even I could see that he was dying."
"For the first time I heard the truth of the case. It was Mrs. Mansfield who had got the certificates out of the young clerks, and had brought them to my father to be filled in. When they were found out she carried on so, that he took the whole thing on himself. He thought he might as well, since he had to go to jail anyway, and he knew he would die there. Besides she promised him to have me educated and looked after. He had no one else to leave me with. At that time he still believed in her.
"But in the prison he met men who knew about her of old. My father was not the first she had been the means of landing in jail. It was then my father began to be afraid for me, and managed to send me word.
"He died in April. Mrs. Mansfield immediately took me out of school. She told me my father was dead, and that it was time I went to work. I think she must have learned by her spies that I had been to see my father, for she no longer took the trouble to put on a good face. Now it was, do this or that or it will be the worse for you. When I saw how all the other men gave in to her, I was afraid to resist. I hated her, but what could I do? I had no one to go to. I had no experience. I wasn't sure of myself. The understanding up there is that Lorina could reach you wherever you went. And if you did anything to cross her, look out! She has spies everywhere!"
"I wonder why she didn't turn you adrift altogether?" I said.
"I think I am useful to them because I look honest," the boy said wretchedly. "I run errands for them, but I never know what it's all about."
"Have you ever heard talk up there of a boss greater than Mrs. Mansfield?" I asked.
He nodded. "But only vague talk. I've never seen him."
"Does she have you watched?" I asked.
"No. She thinks she has me where she wants me. But if she suspected anything——"
"You mustn't come here again," I said.
His face fell absurdly.
"Oh, I'm not kicking you out," I said smiling. "I shall keep in touch with you. Would you like to see this woman go to jail?"
"Would I?" he cried, jumping up. Words failed him. "Oh—! Oh, just try me, that's all!"
"Well, I'm going to put her there," I said. "And you shall help me. But we must be careful."
In the meantime Lorina Mansfield, weary of the inaction I had forced on her, or persuaded perhaps that I had dropped the pursuit, boldly resumed her designs on Mrs. ——'s diamond necklace. For convenience' sake I shall call this lady Mrs. Levering. Her real name is one to conjure with in America.
Mr. Dunsany or "English" reported that he had been detailed to go to Newport on Saturday to spy on the lady, and what should he do about it? The plucky gentleman who never hesitated to put himself in danger, became uneasy when it was a question of actually committing a crime.
We arranged a chat over the telephone, and I gave him the best reasons for going ahead with the scheme. We had so much to talk over that I told him I would go up to New England by a different route, and if he was not spied upon he could come to me at Providence early on Sunday and we could go over everything. All the time we had been working together we had never exchanged a word face to face in our natural characters.
We succeeded in pulling off the meeting. Mr. Dunsany assured me he had not been followed. We laid out our plan of campaign. I convinced him that the quickest and surest way to land the whole gang would be to allow them, even to assist them, to carry out a robbery from start to finish. Let them steal Mrs. Levering's jewels, I said, let them get clean away with them. We'll return them later."
"Suppose some one gets hurt," he said nervously.
"Not likely," I said. "They play too safe a game. We will be on our guard."
He agreed with me, but said if we fell down on the case he would feel obliged to give her another necklace of equal value. This was a matter of $90,000.
"We are not going to fall down on it," I said.
What followed can best be told by Mr. Dunsany's reports.
REPORT OF J. M. #15
Newport, Sunday, July 4th.
My patience was rewarded shortly before noon to-day by the sight of Mrs. Levering walking to the Casino accompanied by a gallant gentleman unknown to me. She did not notice me, of course. If I had been in my own person I warrant she would not have passed me so indifferently. What marvellous faculty is it that enables a lady to know without looking at a man whether he is worth looking at?
I soon satisfied myself that she was wearing her veritable diamonds. Foolish woman! When I sold them to her I warned her not to exhibit them in public. At the time there was a lot of gossip about what Levering paid me for the necklace, and I suppose every thief in the country has it on his list. But Cora Levering was always feather-headed.
I telegraphed to Lorina in the code we had agreed on, and had my dinner while I waited for her answer. It came presently, instructing me to meet her in a certain hotel in Providence to-morrow, two-thirty. To-morrow being a holiday, I am not expected at Dunsany's. This means that I have to put in a long, empty twenty-four hours here. The place is full of my friends eating and drinking themselves black in the face, while I have to stay at a fourth-rate hotel.
To-morrow night there is going to be a great entertainment at Fernhurst, one of the palaces on the cliffs.
J.M.
#16
Newport, July 5th, 9 P.M.
All is set for the drama to-night, and I am nervously awaiting my cue. Heaven knows what the next few hours may bring forth! When you read this it may be up to you to get me out of jail. If we pull it off all right I have no doubt the newspapers will say, as they always do, that the robbery gave evidence of long and careful planning, whereas it was all fixed up in a few minutes.
I went over to Providence to-day shortly before the hour set by Lorina, and found Foxy waiting at the hotel she named. Lorina herself, he said, was in Newport looking over the ground, and would be back directly. It seems that hearing of the affair at Fernhurst they had determined to turn the trick the same night.
Lorina came bringing a good-looking, well-dressed young fellow whom she introduced to the crowd as Frank. He was evidently a youngster of the fashionable world, one cannot mistake the little earmarks. He has a look of the —— family; one of the younger sons, maybe, whom drink and the devil have done for. At any rate, he is completely under Lorina's thumb like the rest.
Lorina was playing the part of a traveller in books—religious books if you please! She dressed the business woman plain and handsome, and had engaged a private sitting-room for the day to show her samples. There was actually a whole trunk full of sample books. I suppose she passed us off as her agents or customers.
She had us all in the sitting-room together. Besides Frank, Foxy and myself, there was a fourth man whom I recognised as her chauffeur. His name is Jim. She proceeded to lay out her campaign in the most matter-of-fact way without wasting a word. It might have been the sales-manager instructing the drummers in the Fall line. Nobody seemed nervous except Frank, who was apparently new at the game.
The entertainment at Fernhurst provided our opportunity. It appeared that Frank was well acquainted with Mrs. Levering, and that by Lorina's instructions he had been particularly cultivating her society of late. He was to be the decoy. Furthermore, he drew for us with rather a shaky hand, a plan of the house and grounds at Fernhurst, showing the location of roads, paths, benches, shrubbery, etc. Lorina used this plan in issuing her instructions.
"Dancing is to begin at nine-thirty," she said, "but all the guests will not have arrived until nearly midnight. So we will fix on midnight to turn the trick, or as soon after as possible. We have decided on this bench that I have marked with a cross for the spot. Get its position well fixed in your mind, all of you. It is quite a way from the house you see, few, if any, of the dancers will go so far. It is off the main paths. It is near the street fence, but is hidden from the street by this dense shrubbery behind it.
"Mrs. Levering has promised Frank the first dance after she arrives. He will then make an engagement with her for another dance to fall just before midnight as near as he can figure it, and after dancing with her the second time will take her out to this bench.
Foxy and English will already be in hiding in the shrubbery behind the bench. Foxy has an invitation to the affair, and he will go in evening dress and mix with the guests until he sees Frank dancing with Mrs. Levering the second time. He will then go out of the house and conceal himself in the shrubbery.
English will already be waiting there. English must be there by eleven to make sure. English wears his ordinary clothes, and slips in by the service entrance to the grounds, marked on the plan here. Once inside the gates he must make his way under cover to the shrubbery behind the bench. English will carry an old overcoat for Foxy which will be provided. There will be a mask in one side pocket, a cap in the other. As soon as you two meet, Foxy will put on the things.
"Now as to the actual trick. It is perfectly simple. Frank is keeping Mrs. Levering in conversation on the bench. Foxy sneaks up behind with the nippers, cuts the necklace, and tosses it back to English, who remains in the bushes.
"The woman will scream, of course. Foxy will stand up and show himself, and run in this direction, that is, towards the house. Frank will take after him for a way, and then go back to the woman. Foxy will double around this shrubbery that conceals the stable entrance. As soon as he is out of sight of the woman he will throw off the cap, mask and coat, and go back to Mrs. Levering as one of the first attracted by her cries. If she does not cry out, he can mix with the crowd in the house until he has a chance to make a getaway.
Meanwhile, English lies quiet in the shrubbery until the excitement has passed out of the vicinity. Then he slips out by the service gate, the same way he went in. Jim will be waiting with the car about five hundred feet beyond the service entrance, towards town. We have been over this ground. There is a big clump of rhododendrons inside the sidewalk at this point.
English, without stopping, will toss the necklace inside the car. But if he is pursued he had better drop it among the rhododendrons. Mind you, English, if there's anybody after you, don't make any throwing motion with your arm. If there is a chase Jim can join in it, and help English make his getaway. Later he can return and get the diamonds.
English takes the trolley to Providence, and the owl train back to New York. Jim secretes the diamonds in the secret pocket in the car, and waits for Foxy. If Foxy is pursued, however, he must not lead them to the car. Jim waits until one-thirty. If Foxy has not arrived, he takes the car to the Atlantic garage. You, Jim, ask them to let you sleep in it, see? as you're expecting a call from your master. Foxy can get the car from the garage any time after that."
Lorina went over all this twice. At the end she consulted her watch. "If any of you want to have anything explained, speak up. I've got to catch the four o'clock back to town."
Frank was the only one who had any objection to raise to the arrangements. "Look here," said he, "this will queer me for good with that lot, even if they can't fasten anything on me."
Lorina fixed him with her hard blue eye. "How?" she demanded.
"I used to be known as a runner. They'll think it funny I wasn't able to catch Foxy."
"Catch him then," said Lorina coolly. "Struggle with him. He will throw you off. That will let you out, won't it? Rehearse it now."
It was a grim kind of play. Everybody took it quite seriously. A sofa was placed to represent the fateful bench. Lorina and Frank took seats on it. Lorina tied a piece of string around her neck to represent the necklace. Foxy and I crouched in the rear. Foxy crept forward, snipped the string and tossed it back to me. His implement was a pair of heavy nail clippers such as manicures use. Then as Foxy made off, Frank flung himself upon him, they struggled and Frank was thrown to the ground.
All this was gone over again and again. Some buttons were tied on the piece of string, so that it would carry when it was thrown back to me. Foxy's stage experience proved serviceable. He acted as director, showing Frank how to tackle him, and how to fall without hurting himself. Lorina's depiction of the startled woman was admirable. The whole scene would have been funny if it hadn't been so grim. None of them seemed to be aware of any humour in the proceedings but me. Jim, who did not take part in the scene, acted as critic. He stood off making suggestions.
Finally, Lorina announced that it was only ten minutes to train time, and hustled us out. She said Frank and Foxy might go off by themselves and practice if they felt it necessary. We scattered. I returned to the little hotel in Newport where I had taken a room. I have not seen any of them since.
It is now nine-thirty and I am waiting in my hotel until it is time for me to go out to Fernhurst. I will post this to you on the way, so that in case anything happens you will at least be in full possession of our plans. I believe I was not cut out for a life of crime. It is too madly exciting. As the hour draws close my knees show an inclination to knock together, and my teeth to chatter.
J. M.
REPORT OF J. M. No. 17
Providence, 1:30 A.M.
When I got to the service gate of Fernhurst I found it guarded by two men, detectives unmistakably. This was disconcerting. I passed on. They bored me through with their gimlet eyes and I broke out in a gentle sweat all over. Presently, however, I realised it was but their professional manner of looking at anybody who was not well dressed, and I calmed down.
It filled me with a kind of terror to think that I might be prevented from carrying out my part of the evening's entertainment, so you will see I was well worked up to it by this time. I went around the block and prepared to try again. On my way towards the service gate I had the luck to fall in with a crowd of waiters clearly bound for the show and it was no trouble at all to mix in with them. My make-up was of the same general style as theirs. We passed through the gate without question.
Once inside I began to lag behind the bunch, and presently slipped away in the darkness. I reached my specified hiding-place in the shrubbery behind the bench without further adventure. The place had been so carefully mapped, there was no possibility of mistaking it.
I had to wait over an hour for Foxy. It was not a pleasant time. Lorina's plan seemed perfect, but you never can tell. And my inexperience in this line was such that I didn't feel overmuch confidence in myself should an emergency arise. Not far behind me I could hear the steady procession of motors bringing guests to the party. In the distance I could hear the music. They had picked their spot well. In all that time no one passed that way.
In the end Foxy's coming gave me a great start. Creeping through the bushes without the rustle of a leaf, he was beside me before I heard him coming. He was dressed in the height of fashion. I caught a gleam of a monocle dangling against his white waistcoat. I silently passed him over the coat I had brought, and standing in a little open space, he put it on together with the cap and mask. Then we crouched down side by side under the leaves, with the back of the bench in plain view before us. Foxy laid the nippers on the ground ready to his hand. We did not speak to each other.
Bye and bye we heard voices approaching, and my poor heart set up a tremendous how-de-do. On the other hand something told me Foxy was enjoying it. Mrs. Levering and the young man called Frank came strolling dimly into view. I was nearly suffocating with excitement.
"This is the place," Frank said.
"How cosy!" she sang.
"Shall we sit down?" he suggested.
"Let's!" said she. "I'll have a cigarette."
They sat. Frank presently struck a match. If she had looked over her shoulder she would have seen the glare faintly reflected from our white faces. I stole a look at Foxy's ratlike profile. He had shoved up the mask. His teeth were bared. He was amused at the prospect of a little scandalous eavesdropping. Merciful Heavens! what a face!
I need not report the further conversation of the two on the bench. It was merely silly. Frank's voice was trembling. I suppose she ascribed that to the violence of his feelings for her. She is a fool.
Foxy gave them a good while to their talk. Meanwhile I suffered agonies of suspense, and Frank no doubt worse. I at least could see when the blow was going to fall, but he could not. Not until Mrs. Levering said she must go back, but not really meaning it yet, did Foxy pull down the mask and creep forward. I held my breath.
It seemed as if it were all accomplished in a single movement. Foxy rose to his knees behind the woman, snipped the shining thing around her neck—and there it was lying at my knees. I mechanically dropped it in my pocket.
She did not scream. In that, at least, she showed blood. "My necklace!" she gasped, jumping up, hand to throat. "Gone!"
In Frank's little choking cry one heard the snapping of the frightful tension he had been under.
Foxy, bent almost double, started up from behind the bench, and headed diagonally across the path. Another gasping cry, not loud, broke from the woman. "There he is!"
Frank flung himself on the back of the runner, and they rolled over on the ground, all exactly as I had seen it rehearsed a dozen times in the hotel room. They sprang up, grappled, swayed and finally Frank was flung with apparently great violence to the ground. Foxy disappeared.
Frank struggled to his feet, seemingly hurt. He attempted to stagger in the direction the fugitive had taken, but Mrs. Levering clung to him. One may suppose he was not sorry to be prevented.
At this moment the tragic-farce was interrupted by the entrance of an actor not on the bill. This was a man with an electric flash, a detective to all appearances. I suppose they had them posted about the grounds, and this man had heard the disturbance, slight though it was. The flash terrified me. I softly and precipitately retired under the leaves into the thickest of the shrubbery.
"I have been robbed!" I heard Mrs. Levering gasp. "My diamond necklace! He came from there. He went that way."
The detective threw his light around. Fortunately for me I had put a screen of leaves in front of me. I was not disposed to linger in the neighbourhood. I ran along close to the fence where there was a narrow open space. As I passed out of hearing, I heard others come running up. Excitement runs like electricity. I had no doubt that Foxy in immaculate evening dress, was among the first to reach the scene. I took care to survey the service gate from a discreet distance before presenting myself there. It was well that I did so. I saw that it was closed, and the two men still on guard. Not knowing at what instant an alarm might be raised behind me, I dared not apply to them with any tale however ingenious. Those diamonds were red hot in my pocket. On the other hand, I would have to retrace my steps nearly a quarter of a mile to reach the main entrance, and I was not suitably dressed to be seen there. I could not climb the fence at any point, for it was a smooth, high iron affair, moreover, the street outside was brightly lighted. I knew nothing about the cliff side of the grounds.
For a moment or two I felt decidedly panicky. Before my mind's eye headlines in the next day's papers were vividly emblazoned:
"WELL-KNOWN JEWELLER STEALS THEDIAMONDS HE SOLD"
or something like that. Finally I recollected that the road to the service entrance of Fernhurst ran quite close to the boundary of the next estate. I determined to try that way.
To reach the boundary I was obliged to make a long detour. Still there were no sounds behind me to indicate that an alarm had been raised, at any rate a public alarm. The line between the two estates was marked by a thorn hedge and a wire fence. Choosing a dark spot I managed to struggle through without receiving any serious damage. I finally gained the street through the service gate of this place.
This brought me out beyond the point where Jim was to be stationed with the motor car, and I had to retrace my steps. The car was in the appointed spot. Jim was on the front seat with his head craned in the other direction whence he expected me. I gave him a little signal. He was much troubled to see me come from that way thinking the plan had fallen through, but was reassured no doubt by the fall of the necklace on the floor of his car. I was thankful to be rid of the cursed thing.
There were several cars standing across the street, with their chauffeurs chatting together, and I was afraid of attracting attention to myself or to Jim by turning back at that moment. I kept on. I was startled half out of my wits when a motor patrol wagon full of police came flying up the street past me. It turned in at the service gate of Fernhurst ahead. Since I was travelling in that direction I had to keep on.
A man stepped out as I approached. Seizing my shoulder he swung me half around so that the light fell on my face. "What are you doing here?" he demanded.
I thought it was all up with me. "I just wanted to have a look at the swells," I stammered.
Another man joined him. "Hold this guy," said the first. While the second man kept a hand twisted in my collar, the first one frisked me expeditiously. I had taken care, of course, not to have anything on me. But the side pocket of my coat was still hot from the diamonds.
Finding nothing the man growled an order for my release. The second man spun me around, and propelled me towards town with a shove. "Get the H—— out of here!" said he.
And I did.
J. M.
REPORT OF J. M. No. 18
New York, July 6th, Midnight.
I have just returned from a celebration up at Lorina's house. Everybody made a clean get-away last night, and the diamonds are safe in Lorina's desk, so the gang made merry. The newspaper stories of the affair caused us the greatest amusement. The police, as you have seen, are very wide of the mark. Of us all, only Frank has fallen under suspicion. It appears that I was right in my guess as to his identity. The affair will ruin him socially, though it is not likely to lead to his arrest. I can't say that I feel sorry for the youth. Of all the parts in this sordid drama, Frank, the decoy played the most contemptible.
In the general loosening of tongues to-night I have some rather interesting matter to report. When I arrived at the house all the gang except Lorina were in the dining-room. Spencer, the negro, told me she was up in the office, so I went up-stairs to make my report. The office door was open a crack, and as I was about to knock I heard Lorina's voice within. She was talking over the telephone. The first sound of her voice froze me where I stood in astonishment. The tone was that of a woman distracted by love and longing. Think of it, Lorina!
I heard her say: "I'll do anything you tell me. But I want to see you. I must see you sometimes, dearie. What is the use of all this working and worrying, what am I doing it for if you never even let me see you? I can't stand it. I can't go on. Iwon'tstand it!"
Do you wonder that I was amazed?
There was a silence, and she went on in a broken, humbled tone: "No—I didn't mean that. I will obey you. You always know best. But don't be so hard on me. Please, dearie,please——!"
At this point Foxy came running up-stairs. I was caught rather awkwardly.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded.
"I came up-stairs to report to Mrs. Mansfield," I said, "but I don't like to disturb her. She seems to be having a private conversation."
He listened at the door for a moment, then pulled me away.
"Beat it!" said he. "She's talking to the boss. She'd kill us if she found us here."
One other thing that I had heard Lorina say was: "Then I'll keep the coal here, until I hear from you again."
"Coal" or "white coal" is their slang for diamonds, so I suppose she meant the necklace.
I returned down-stairs full of speculations regarding this wonderful and mysterious "boss." What kind of man must he be, thus to bring the imperious Lorina who commands us like slaves, to her knees?
Frank was not present at the party in the dining-room. He is not a regular member of the gang. Besides Foxy, Jumbo, Jim the chauffeur and myself, there were several of the younger fellows, but not Blondy, I am glad to say, for I should not like to see that nice boy drinking. Lorina appeared only once or twice and then but for a moment. The lady's gaiety was forced. However, she was liberal in her hospitality. Champagne flowed like water.
Jumbo got very drunk and even Foxy drank enough to make him indiscreet. It was then that interesting ancient history was retold. It would astonish you to see Foxy at such moments. There is nothing about him of the dull, prosy bore that he ordinarily affects.
Jumbo was toasting him with maudlin praise. "Drink to Foxy, fellows!" he cried. "There's the lad that brings home the bacon! The slickest, smoothest article of them all!"
Foxy took it as no more than his due.
"Say, Foxy," asked another admirer, "what was the hardest trick you ever turned?"
Naturally I have to let others ask these questions. Curiosity on my part would be prejudicial to my health. I am on thequi vivefor the replies, though.
"Oh, six months ago, when I lifted an actress' pearls," drawled Foxy.
Fancy how I pricked up my ears.
"Tell us about it," said the same youngster.
All the young ones sit at Foxy's feet, you understand.
Foxy was nothing loath. "Elegant pearls," he said reminiscently, "blue pearls, they called them, though I couldn't see the blue. But fine and choice! It was a long operation. I had to take a job acting in her company a couple of months beforehand. You see she kept the real pearls in a safety deposit box, and wore a phony string, which added to our difficulties. First I had to persuade her to wear the real pearls one night."
"How did you do that?" somebody asked.
"I egged on the leading man to make a bet with her that he could tell the real from the phony."
"Was he in with you?"
"No, indeed. Innocent as a lamb. He didn't know that I put the idea in his mind."
"Foxy is a wonder to manage!" put in Jumbo.
"After the bet was made, we had the actress trailed every day until she went to the bank and got out her pearls. Then we knew she would wear them that night. She wore them in the first act. In the second she had on a nurse's costume, and had to leave them off. My next job was to get her maid out of the dressing-room during the second act. I managed this by having it gossiped around the company that the star was going to introduce some new business that night, and so the maid went out to look on, see? So I went in her dressing-room——"
"How did you get in?" asked some one.
"Walked in straight as if I had a good right to. There was no other way. I frisked the room, but could only find one string of pearls. You see, I counted on two, the phony and the real. I couldn't tell which was which. I had arranged to have a fellow who was in with us, a pearl expert call on me between the acts. I saw him at the stage door, and showed him the string I had. He said they were phony. So I had to do it all over.
"During the third act, however, luck was with me. The actress' maid not having seen anything new in the second act left the dressing-room of her own accord to watch the scene. I went in again. This time I found the real thing in a pocket of the petticoat she had worn in the second act. I left the phony string in its place.
"And they never got on to you!" said his admirer.
"Nah! That was where Enderby came in. He fixed the crime on the young leading man and broke up the show. Lord! I laughed. It let me out, too. I was sick of the fool business of acting every night. It wasn't till lately that Enderby got it in his head that he'd made a mistake. It's too late now. The pearls have been sold and the swag divided."
Jumbo took a hand in the tale at this point. "Let me tell you the joke about selling the pearls," said he. "Me and slim Foley set up an elegant office on Maiden Lane, with stenographers and office boys and all, everything swell. We were brokers in precious stones, see? We sent out decoy letters to the leading man Foxy mentioned, and I'm blest if we didn't sell him the string of pearls back again. Then he gave them to the actress, the fool, and she fired him and bust up the company."
"But I don't understand," said the young fellow, "what did you want to sell them to him for? Risky business I should say."
"Don't ask me," said Jumbo with a shrug. "Orders from higher up."
This suggests a new line of thought, doesn't it?
During one of Lorina's brief visits to the dining-room, she was pleased to commend me for my work last night. She asked me to come to her down-town office to-morrow afternoon as soon as I finished work. I enclose the card she gave me with her address.* Subtle irony, eh?
* The card enclosed by Mr. Dunsany read:THE EARNEST WORKERS PUBLISHING CO.,No. — Fifth Avenue, New York.Mrs. Lorina Mansfield, Manager.
To-morrow night I'll report on what happens there.
J. M.
J. M. #19
New York, July 7th.
The number on Fifth avenue given me was not a great distance from Dunsany's and I was there by 5:15 this afternoon. It is one of the older office buildings and is filled with the most respectable tenants, mostly firms engaged in some form of religious business: publishers, mission boards, church supplies, etc. It is amusing to think of Lorina in such company.
Lorina's office, of course, was no whit less respectable in appearance than a hundred others in the building. There was a respectable elderly stenographer, a subdued office boy, and Lorina herself playing her part of the saleswoman of religious literature in a starched shirt waist. She waved me to a seat beside her desk, and started right in to sell me a consignment of tracts. I confess I was a bit dazed by the scene.
At five-thirty the respectable stenographer and the subdued office-boy asked her humbly if she desired them any further, and upon receiving a negative departed.
When the door closed behind them Lorina yawned, stretched, and swore softly—to take the religious taste out of her mouth, I suppose. I laughed, but she didn't like it. I have discovered that laughter makes these people uneasy.
"Cut it out!" she said frowning.
I apologised.
"English," she said, "Jumbo told me that you would be glad to get a little extra work as a diamond expert."
I nodded, wondering what was coming next.
"There's a friend of mine a jewel-broker next door," she went on, nodding towards the adjoining room. "His business is so full of risks from thieves, you know, that he decided the best way to fool them would be to take an humble little office in this building without so much as an extra lock on the door to give warning."
Lorina only handed out this line of talk to save her face. I was not expected to believe it. These people are never frank with each other, even when there's nothing to be gained by bluffing. It is only when the men have been drinking that things are called by their right names.
"My friend needs an assistant, a diamond expert," Lorina continued. "For a couple of months now, he's been at his wit's end to find a man he could trust. Jumbo said you were just the man for the job so I recommended you, and my friend told me to bring you around."
I nodded sagely to all this palaver. "Am I to give up my job at Dunsany's?" I asked, hoping that the answer would be in the affirmative.
"No," she said. "That's a good thing, too. This new job will only take an hour or two in the evenings and on Saturday afternoons."
She arose and tapped in a peculiar way on the door that led into the adjoining office. Some one got up within, and unlocked and opened it. Fortunately as a result of all that has happened during the past few weeks I have my nerves under strict control, for I got a shock. There stood Freer, the missing ex-head of my pearl department!
We were introduced. Freer saw nothing suspicious in my aspect. There was a lot of palaver which I will not tire you with. The upshot of it was that I was engaged to assist my late assistant at a handsome salary. For the present I was to work from 5:15 to 6:30 every evening, as well as Saturday afternoons, and Sunday mornings if necessary.
"I do not like to work late at night," said Freer nervously. "It attracts attention."
Freer undertook then and there to explain my duties. "My work is with the pearls," he said, "and the diamond end of the business has been neglected since I lost my last assistant two months ago."
"He died," remarked Lorina with a peculiar look at me.
I got her meaning.
Against one wall of Freer's office was a large letter file with drawers that pulled out, and a shutter to pull down over the whole at night, and lock. It was built entirely of steel as the modern custom is. Freer pulled out one of the drawers but instead of letters inside, my amazed eyes beheld a heap of gleaming diamond jewelry. There were necklaces, dog-collars, lavallieres, pins, bracelets, rings. I wondered if the thirty-odd remaining drawers were filled with like treasures, and made a breathless mental computation of their value—millions! It was a modern burlesque of the scene in Aladdin's cave!
Freer, referring to the drawer he held open said: "These are consignments of diamonds lately received, which I have not had the time to inventory. You see each article is tagged with a number. You are to take them in numerical order, enter a careful description and valuation in a journal, then demount the stones, weigh them, grade them and put them in stock."
He opened several other drawers which contained princely treasures of unset diamonds lying on white cotton. They were carefully graded according to size, colour, quality. Here apparently is the loot of years past. I could not begin to give any estimate of its value. I have not seen the pearls yet.
"The other part of your work," Freer went on, "will be to fill the orders for diamonds that are received." He showed me several order slips, evidently from the phraseology, made out by experienced jewellers, but bearing no shipping directions.
"Am I to send these orders out?" I asked with a simple air.
He shook his head. "Enter the orders in the order book, fill them from stock, and turn them over to me."
"Mind you do not carry your work to the window," put in Lorina sharply.
I nodded.
"Mind you do not leave anything about at night," added Freer, "no tools, no papers. The women come in here to clean after we are gone."
He showed me where the tools of my trade were kept. In addition to everything else needful, in a locked cabinet there is a beautiful little electric crucible for melting down gold and platinum.
I immediately set to work under the eyes of Lorina and Freer.
You can imagine in what excitement I now write this. Our work is done!—or almost done, for we have not yet got a line on that mysterious and terrible "boss." For a moment I thought it might be Freer, but he is as subservient to Lorina as the rest. Man! Man! What a haul we shall make—if there is no slip! We must do our best of course to ensure complete success, but I beg of you not to risk too far what we have in our grasp, in the hope of getting more. I confess I am a little scared by the magnitude of the developments to-day. Do not wait too long before delivering your master stroke!
J. M.
To resume my own part in these matters, you can conceive what a great responsibility devolved upon me in the light of these two last reports. I did not have to have Mr. Dunsany remind me of it. I was like a player in a close game who holds the best card. The question was when to play it. One may easily hold one's trumps too long. Still I could not bear to show my hand without the assurance of taking the king, i.e., the "boss."
So I still held off, though the tension was frightful, particularly on poor Dunsany. In every subsequent report he begged me to strike, and take our chance of getting our man through the disclosures sure to be made in the general crash. There was more up on this game than cards were ever played for.
In the meantime I was straining every nerve to pick up a clue to the "boss." I knew that we must get him in the end if we could hold off long enough. I arranged a meeting with the boy Blondy, and cross-examined him for hours. The poor youngster was only too anxious to tell me what he knew, but he could not help me.
He said that Lorina never sent any of the men to the boss. All communications between them were made without the aid of a third party. Some of the men, he said, affected to believe that the boss was a myth invented by Lorina to keep them in awe. I had, however, good reason in my reports to know that the boss was a real man.
I put the most skilful woman operative I could procure on Lorina's trail. It appeared, however, from her first report that Lorina was instantly aware of being watched, and fooled the operative at her pleasure. Thus she became a danger to me instead of a help, since Lorina with her infernal cleverness might very easily have found a way to intercept our communications. So I discharged the operative two days after I hired her.
In justice to Mr. Dunsany, who hourly ran such a terrible risk, I now took the police into my confidence. The chief of the detective bureau at this time was Lanman, a man I had always respected for his contempt of spectacular methods and his strong sense. I went to see him.
He did not know me, of course. He listened to my story with an incredulous grin. He has an aspect as grim and forbidding as a granite cliff. But as I piled up my evidence, and read from Mr. Dunsany's report, I shook the cliff. I had the satisfaction of seeing the granite betray excitement.
When I was done he was convinced. He was frankly envious of my luck in obtaining such a case, and of my success with it, but he showed a disposition to play absolutely fair. I had been afraid that he might try to rob me of the fruits of my success with the public.
Lanman agreed that it was best to hold off for a day or two longer in the hope of getting the "boss." In the meantime he secured a room at # — Fifth avenue on the same floor where Lorina had her offices, and there every day during the hours while Mr. Dunsany was at work, waited six men within call. We next secured quarters in the little hotel three doors from Lorina's house, and every night ten of Lanman's men were domiciled there. Signals were agreed on in case of need.
Matters stood thus at the end of the week whose beginning had witnessed the Newport robbery. On Friday morning Irma Hamerton came to town again. I witnessed her arrival in the lobby of the Rotterdam, which you will remember was her hotel before it had been mine. Every one sat up and stared. She was as lovely as only herself, but I thought, looked harassed. Mount was attending her like a shadow, smoother, more elegant and more complacent than ever.
With a fanciful, sentimental feeling I had engaged rooms on the same floor of the hotel as Irma's. Her suite was rented by the year. During the morning as I went to and fro in the corridor of the eleventh floor, I could not help but notice an unusual stir in the neighbourhood of Irma's rooms. Messengers were flying, packages arriving, and the switchboard busy.
There is a telephone switchboard on each floor of the Rotterdam, opposite the elevators. In addition to answering the calls, the operator is supposed to keep an eye on things generally. While I was waiting for the elevator I asked the girl on our floor what was the cause of the excitement. She said she didn't know, but said it with a simper and a toss of the head that added to my uneasiness. Downstairs I asked the clerk with whom I was on friendly terms, but with no better success.
While I was hanging around the lobby, Irma and Mount came down. They took a taxi at the door. Following a sudden impulse I engaged the next in line, and ordered the driver to follow them. They led me through the maze of down-town traffic direct to the Municipal Building. They disappeared in the bureau of Marriage Licenses, and my worst fears were confirmed.
This time I determined to act without consulting my passionate, headstrong friend. I hastened back to the hotel. I had evidence that the ceremony was to be performed there, most likely the same afternoon. I wrote Irma a note begging her to see me privately on a matter of the greatest importance. I signed it with my assumed name Boardman, but I had worded it in such a way that she would know it was from me. Moreover she knew my handwriting. I sent it to her room in advance of her return. There was a chance of course that some one else might open it, but I knew she made a general practice of opening her own letters.
A little before two o'clock, I got a summons and hastened to her suite. She started back dubiously at the sight of me, but I soon identified myself. She was alone. The room was filled with orange blossoms. The scent sickened me.
"Where is Mr. Mount?" I asked.
"I sent him away for an hour," she answered, blushing.
"Are we quite alone?"
"Bella and Marie are in my bedroom. That is two rooms away."
Bella was Mrs. Bleecker; Marie her maid.
"Laying out your wedding-dress, I suppose," said I.
She started and blushed deeply. "You know?" she murmured.
"Is it a secret?"
"Not from you. I didn't know where to reach you by phone."
There was a somewhat painful silence. I did not feel inclined to make things easy for her.
"Aren't you—aren't you going to congratulate me?" she murmured at last.
"No," I said bluntly.
She looked at me full of surprise and pain, like a hurt child, but I was hurt, too, and impenitent.
"Oh, Irma, how could you?" I cried at last. It was the first time I had ever addressed her so. At the moment neither of us noticed it.
My question confused her. "I—I don't know," was her strange answer.
Presently she recovered herself somewhat. "Why shouldn't I?" she demanded, showing fight.
I shrugged. "I don't know. I have no reasons. You should be guided by your instinct."
"He is good to me," she said defiantly.
"Naturally, he sees his interest."
I can't remember all that was said on both sides. The conversation was sufficiently painful. She was no match for me. Finally she began to tremble.
"Why did you leave me?" she faltered. "I asked you to help me. You have avoided me all these weeks. I needed you. It's cruel and useless for you to come now, when it is too late and—and——"
"I have been working for you!" I cried. "I thought I could trust your instinct."
"I had no intention of marrying at first," she said. "You saw a while ago what was coming. Why didn't you speak then if you had anything to say. It's too late now."
"It's never too late if you have a doubt," I cried.
"But he—Alfred will be here at four," she stammered, "and the clergyman—and my friends——"
"Let Alfred go away again," I said coolly.
Her eyes widened like a frightened child's. "I dare not!" she whispered. "You don't know! He is a terrible man!"
"I'll back you up," I said.
"No! No!" she cried. "I will not! I cannot! Please go!"
I took a new tack.
"Why don't you ask me the result of my work the last few weeks?" I asked.
"What do you mean?"
I had brought for the purpose, that report of Mr. Dunsany's in which Foxy had told how the theft of Irma's pearls had been accomplished. I explained to Irma how this report had been secured, and then I read it to her. Joy and horror struggled together in her face.
"You knew this long ago!" she cried accusingly. "Why didn't you tell me before?"
"Roland forbade it. I am breaking my word to him in telling you now."
"He no longer cares then what I think!"
I shrugged.
She walked up and down the room like one distraught.
"Knowing that Roland is innocent would you dare to marry Mount?" I asked.
"It is too late!" she cried.
At this moment we were warned by a sound in the next room to pull ourselves together. The door opened and Mrs. Bleecker's fawning countenance appeared in the opening.
"Oh, I beg your pardon," she said, cringing. "I didn't know you were still engaged." She did not withdraw, however, but favoured me with a good, long stare.
I never saw the gentle Irma so angry. "Leave the room!" she commanded. "I told you I was not to be disturbed!"
If she had always taken the same tone with that woman it would have been better for her. Mrs. Bleecker precipitately retired.
Irma continued to pace the floor. "What shall I do?" she murmured, twisting her hands together. "I have not the strength to face him out."
"Don't try," I suggested.
"What do you mean?"
"Beat it," I said in homely slang.
A gleam of light, of mischief appeared in her tortured face. "But how?—where? Will you go with me?" she cried breathlessly. "What will I do about the women here? What explanation shall I make?"
"One thing at a time!" I protested. "Make no explanation. You are your own mistress. If you like you can leave Alfred a note saying you have changed your mind. As to the women——"
"I can trust Marie."
"Very well. Send Mrs. Bleecker out on an errand. No trouble to invent an errand at this juncture. You can be gone when she returns."
"Will you come with me?"
I shook my head. "Matters are rapidly approaching a crisis," I said. "I must stay on the job."
"But where will I go?"
"That's up to you. I can only offer a suggestion——"
"Yes! Yes! Don't tease me."
"You have a difficult time ahead of you. I think you need a man's support."
A crimson tide swept up from her neck.
"I would put on my oldest and plainest suit," I went on wickedly, "and go register at some quiet little hotel, the last place they would think of looking for you. I will give you the name of such a place. At five-thirty this afternoon I would go to a certain horrible cheap little restaurant known as the American café, which is on Third avenue near Sixteenth street. Half-past five remember, and just see what happens."
"If you would only come with me—I mean as far as the door," she murmured in confusion.
"Too risky," I said. "Mind I do not guarantee anything in any event. It's up to you. A certain young friend of ours has the pride of Lucifer, and you have made a ghastly wound in it. You will have to humble yourself shockingly."
In her present mood I saw she was quite ready to do that.
"This is what I'm counting on," I went on. "Pride is pretty poor fare. Let him act as high and mighty as he likes, he's really starving for all that makes life worth living. The unexpected sight of you ought to be like a feast to his eyes. I'm hoping he'll fall to, before his damnable pride has a chance to bring up reserves. One thing more. If anything prevents him from supping there as usual, he lives at # — East Seventeenth street."
"Are you sure he loves me still?" she whispered.
"Not at all sure," I said coolly. "You'll have to go and find out. If you've lost him, you've lost a lover that was worth a woman's while."
After I had seen Irma safely out of the Rotterdam (I thought she looked more adorable in her plain black dress and modest hat than in all her finery), I went back to my own rooms in the hotel. I was expecting a telephone report from a man whom I had sent to pick up what he could at the garage where Lorina stored her car. Meanwhile I gave myself up to the joy of picturing Mrs. Bleecker's dismay when she returned from her hypothetical errand, and Mount's black rage when he dropped in at four to be married and found himself minus a bride. I had always suspected that Mount concealed tigerish tendencies under his too-smooth exterior.
By and by my telephone did ring, but it was not the man I expected. An agitated young voice hailed me over the wire, which I had some difficulty in recognising as Blondy's. He was so excited I could not make head or tail of his message. When I got him straightened out it ran something like this:
"I have just been at Mrs. Mansfield's office, I mean the down-town office. She told me last night to come to-day as she had a package to be taken to a man at the Hotel Madagascar. I was sitting beside her desk and she was writing a letter to go with the package, when the telephone bell rang. She knows how to talk over the telephone without giving anything away. All she said was 'yes' and 'no' and 'repeat that,' but I saw that it was important because her face changed and her eyes glittered. When she looks like that it means danger.
"She was talking to a woman called Bella.
"She made some notes on a pad. As soon as she rang off she jumped up. She said she was called out and told me I needn't wait because she wouldn't send the package until to-morrow. When she turned to get her hat I managed to catch a glimpse of the notes she had put down. She had written:
"Elegantly-dressed man of fifty.Silvery toupee, waxed moustache, pale face.Brown suit, waistcoat edged with white.White spats, white gloves.Expensive Panama hat, fancy band green and red.Room 1104."
"This is your description, and this is the number of your room. I was scared when I saw the expression of her face. She sent me home. She left at the same time, and took a taxi at the door. She carries her gun in a kind of pocket in her skirt. Look out for her!"
"I get you, old boy!" I cried. "You've done me a good turn and I shan't forget it. Don't you worry."
I hung up the receiver, and did a little thinking. I was struck by the name of the woman who had called Lorina up, Bella. It is not a very common name. It was Mrs. Bleecker's name. Was this a new thread in my extraordinary tangle?
It was decidedly awkward to have my disguise laid bare just at this moment. However, forewarned is forearmed. I set about putting my affairs in order. I did not know whether Lorina would visit the Rotterdam or not, but I was sure she would not do so without making her usual careful arrangements, and not probably, without disguising herself, all of which would take time. I gave myself an hour, anyway.
I gathered my papers together, and despatched those of them I valued to Dr. ——, who had been so good to me already. I wrote notes to Mr. Dunsany, Blondy and other agents instructing them to send their reports in the care of Oscar Nilson until they heard from me again. All the beautiful sartorial effects I had to leave behind me. Maybe I could redeem them later if they were not sold by the hotel to pay my bill.
It was close upon four and I supposed the wedding-guests were gathering, when my telephone summoned me again.
"Miss Sadie Farrell is calling," said the voice at the other end.
My heart jumped, but simultaneously Caution held up a warning finger. "One moment," I answered.
I did some rapid thinking. I did not keep the girl waiting an appreciable moment, but in that time I thought a whole chapter, as one may do in a crisis. Not Sadie! Better sense instantly told me she would never come to my hotel. She had a more exalted notion of what was due her. Lorina, of course. She had used the most obvious expedient of reaching my rooms. I had three alternatives:
(a) To deny myself to her. But in that case I would virtually be besieged in the hotel.
(b) To see her down-stairs. She would hardly take a shot at me in the crowded lobby—but she might very well have some half-crazed youth there to do it for her.
(c) To have her up-stairs, where she could not pass any signals outside. I had two rooms——
"Please have Miss Farrell come up-stairs," I said over the phone.
I had one of the best suites at the Rotterdam, a corner room which was my parlour, and a bedroom. I put the key to the parlour door in my pocket, retired into the bedroom, and locked the communicating door. Presently I heard the bell-boy's knock on the parlour door.
"Come in!" I sang out.
Through the door I heard the sounds of two people entering my parlour.
"Hello, Sadie!" I cried. "Make yourself at home. I'll be dressed in a jiffy!"
An indistinguishable murmur answered me. This was certainly not my Sadie.
The bell-boy went out, and I heard him retiring down the hall. I gave him time to get out of the way, then I slipped out of the bedroom into the hall, key to the other room in hand. I inserted it ever so softly in the parlour door, and turned it. But she heard! She rushed to the door and shook it. By that time I was around the corner of the corridor.
The telephone girl looked at me somewhat curiously as I pressed the elevator button, but did not quite like to question me. She knew, of course, that a caller had just been shown into my room.
"I'll be back in a minute," I said carelessly.
Just then I saw the number of my room 1104 displayed on the switchboard. Lorina had rushed to the phone.
"Is there a drugstore in the hotel?" I asked the girl at random, to distract her attention.
"No, sir. There is one opposite the Thirty-fourth street entrance."
The elevator was approaching my floor. I needed one more second to make my getaway. "Is it a reliable place?" I asked.
"Conway's," she said, holding the plug ready in her hand, "one of the largest in town."
The elevator door was now open, and I stepped aboard. The operator shoved the plug in, and answered the call. I was carried down.
I could not tell, of course, what form Lorina's appeal for help would take. In case she might telephone to have me intercepted in the lobby, I took the precaution to get off at the mezzanine floor. I passed around the gallery to the other side of the building, and gained the street without interference.
So there I was safe, but once more homeless.
A gaily-dressed couple left the hotel immediately in front of me. The woman was talking rather excitedly. Reaching the pavement I saw that the talker was Miss Beulah Maddox, late of Irma's company. Of course! No difficulty in guessing what she was excited about. They turned West on Thirty-fourth street. I was bound in the same direction. I heard her say:
"Of course nobody believes she's sick. What can be the matter?"
"They've had a row I suppose," replied her companion.
Half a dozen steps farther along, they met another couple likewise gloriously arrayed. I did not know these two, but it required little perspicacity to guess that they too belonged to the profession. Miss Maddox greeted them with a squeal of excitement.
"Oh, mydears!"
It was risky, but I could not forbear stopping a moment to listen. I made out to be looking for a taxi.
"What do youthink?" cried Miss Maddox. "There's no use your going any farther! There isn't going to be any wedding!"
"Why?"
"Nobody knows. Another extraordinary caprice of Irma's! Everybody is told at the desk that she is ill, and the ceremony postponed, but of course that's only anexcuse. I had a glimpse of Mr. Mount and he looked simplyfurious, my dear!"
And so on! And so on! A taxi drew up and I jumped in.
I had myself taken to Oscar's shop, and in one of the little cubicles, the distinguishing marks of the elegant Mr. Boardman, late of the Rotterdam, were removed. It would have been fun to adopt another swell makeup and go back to the Rotterdam to see what was happening, but it was too risky. It was safer for me to play an humble character now.