[Illustration: "JUST AS I THOUGHT"]

ASHTON-KIRKINVESTIGATOR

By

John T. McIntyre

Author of "In the Dead of Night, " &c. 

ILLUSTRATIONS BYRALPH L. BOYER

PHILADELPHIA1910

 To my Friend GRANT GIBNEY

INTRODUCTION

Ashton-Kirk, who has solved so many mysteries, is himself something ofa problem even to those who know him best. Although young, wealthy, and of high social position, he is nevertheless an indefatigableworker in his chosen field. He smiles when men call him a detective. "No; only an investigator, " he says. 

He has never courted notoriety; indeed, his life has been more or lesssecluded. However, let a man do remarkable work in any line and, asEmerson has observed, "the world will make a beaten path to his door. "

Those who have found their way to Ashton-Kirk's door have been of manyraces and interests. Men of science have often been surprised to findhim in touch with the latest discoveries, scholars searching amongstrange tongues and dialects, and others deep in tattered scrolls, ancient tablets and forgotten books have been his frequent visitors. But among them come many who seek his help in solving problems incrime. 

"I'm more curious than some other fellows, that's all, " is the way heaccounts for himself. "If a puzzle is put in front of me I can't resttill I know the answer. " At any rate his natural bent has always beento make plain the mysterious; each well hidden step in theperpetration of a crime has always been for him an exciting lure; andto follow a thread, snarled by circumstances or by anotherintelligence has been, he admits, his chief delight. 

There are many strange things to be written of this remarkableman--but this, the case of the numismatist Hume, has been selected asthe first because it is one of the simplest, and yet clearlyillustrates Ashton-Kirk's peculiar talents. It will also throw somelight on the question, often asked, as to how his cases come to him. 

A second volume that shows the investigator deep in another mystery, even more intricate and puzzling than this, is entitled "Ashton-Kirkand the Scarlet Scapular. "

 CONTENTS

 CHAPTER I. PENDLETON CALLS UPON ASHTON-KIRK II. MISS EDYTH VALE STATES HER CASE III. THE PORTRAITS OF GENERAL WAYNE IV. STILLMAN'S THEORY V. STILLMAN ASKS QUESTIONS VI. ASHTON-KIRK LOOKS ABOUT VII. THE SCHWARTZ-MICHAEL BAYONET VIII. THE NEWSPAPERS BEGIN TO PLAY THEIR PART IX. MISS VALE TELLS WHAT SHE KNOWS X. ASHTON-KIRK ASKS QUESTIONS XI. PENDLETON IS VASTLY ENLIGHTENED XII. ANTONIO SPATOLA APPEARS XIII. A NEW LIGHT ON ALLAN MORRIS XIV. MISS VALE UNEXPECTEDLY APPEARS XV. MISS VALE DEPARTS SUDDENLY XVI. STEEL AGAINST STEEL XVII. WHAT HAPPENED ON THE ROAD XVIII. ASHTON-KIRK TELLS WHY XIX. THE TWO REPORTS XX. ONE OF THE OLD SORT XXI. ASHTON-KIRK BEGINS TO PLAN XXII. ASHTON-KIRK IS ANNOYED XXIII. THE SECRET OF THE PORTRAIT XXIV. THE SECOND NIGHT XXV. APPROACHING THE FINISH XXVI. THE FINISH

 ILLUSTRATIONS

 "JUST AS I THOUGHT" ... FRONTISPIECE "YOU DO NOT MEAN TO GO THERE" HE RAPPED SMARTLY ON THE WINDOW WHAT SHE SAW MUST HAVE STARTLED HER

Ashton-Kirk, Investigator

CHAPTER I

PENDLETON CALLS UPON ASHTON-KIRK

Young Pendleton's car crept carefully around the corner and wound inand out among the push-cart men and dirty children. 

About midway in the block was a square-built house with tall, small-paned windows and checkered with black-headed brick. It stoodslightly back from the street with ancient dignity; upon the shiningdoor-plate, deeply bitten in angular text, was the name "Ashton-Kirk. "

Here the car stopped; Pendleton got out, ascended the white marblesteps and tugged at the polished, old-fashioned bell-handle. 

A grave-faced German, in dark livery, opened the door. 

"Mr. Ashton-Kirk will see you, sir, " said he. "I gave him yourtelephone message as soon as he came down. "

"Thank you, Stumph, " said Pendleton. And with the manner of oneperfectly acquainted with the house, he ascended a massivelybalustraded staircase. The walls were darkly paneled; from theshadowy recesses pictured faces of men and women looked down at him. 

Coming in from the littered street, with its high smells and crowding, gesticulating people, the house impressed one by its quiet, itsspaciousness, and the evident means and culture of its owner. Pendleton turned off at the first landing, proceeded along a passageand finally knocked at a door. Without waiting for a reply, he walkedin. 

At the far end of a long, high-ceilinged apartment a young man waslounging in an easy-chair. At his elbow was a jar of tobacco, a sheafof brown cigarette papers and a scattering of books. He lifted a keendark face, lit up by singularly brilliant eyes. 

"Hello, Pen, " greeted he. "You've come just in time to smoke up someof this Greek tobacco. Throw those books off that chair and makeyourself easy. "

One by one Pendleton lifted the books and glanced at the titles. 

"Your morning's reading, if this is such, " commented he, "isstrikingly catholic. Plutarch, Snarleyow, the Opium Eater, MartinChuzzlewit. " Then came a host of tattered pamphlets, bound inshrieking paper covers, which the speaker handled gingerly. "'TheCrimes of Anton Probst, '" he continued to read, "'The Deeds of theHarper Family, ' 'The Murder of ----'" here he paused, tossed thepamphlets aside with contempt, sat down and drew the tobacco jartoward him. 

"Some of the results of your forays into the basements of oldbooksellers, I suppose, " he added, rolling a cigarette with delicateease. "But what value you see in such things is beyond me. "

Ashton-Kirk smiled good-humoredly. He took up some of the pamphletsand fluttered their illy-printed pages. 

"They are not beautiful, " he admitted; "the paper could not be worseand the wood cuts are horrors. But they are records of actualthings--striking things, as a matter of fact--for a murder which solifts itself above the thousands of homicides that are yearlyoccurring, as to gain a place outside the court records andnewspapers, must have been one of exceptional execution. "

"There is a public which delights in being horrified, " said Pendletonwith a grimace. "The things are put out to get their nickels anddimes. "

"No doubt, " agreed the other. "And the fact that they are willing topay their nickels and dimes is, to my way of thinking, a proof of theextraordinary nature of the crime chronicled. " The speaker dropped theprints upon the floor and lounged back in his big chair. "There isPlutarch, " he continued; "the account of the assassination of Caesaris not the least interesting thing in his biography of that statesman. Indeed, I have no doubt but that the chronicler thought Caesar'staking off the most striking incident in his career; that the Romanpublic thought so is a matter of history. 

"Countless writers have dwelt upon the taking of human life; some ofthem were rather commercial gentlemen who always gave an ear to thedemands of their public, and their screeds were written for the moneythat they would put in their pockets; but others, and by long odds thegreatest, were fascinated by their subjects. Both Stevenson and Henleywere powerfully drawn by deeds of blood. Did you know they planned agreat book which was to contain a complete account of the world's mostremarkable homicides? I'm sorry they never carried the thing out; forI cannot conceive of two minds more fitted to the task. They wouldhave dressed every event in the grimmest and most subtle horror; why, the soul would have shuddered at each enormity as shaped and presentedby such masters. "

Pendleton regarded his friend with candid distaste. 

"You are appalling to-day, " said he. "If you think it's the Greektobacco, let me know. For I have to mingle with other human beings, and I'd scarcely care to get into your state of mind. "

The strong, white teeth of Ashton-Kirk showed in a quick smile. 

"The tobacco was recommended by old Hosko, " he said, "and you'll findnothing violent in it, no matter what you find in my conversation. "

"What put you into such a frame of mind, anyway? Something happened?"

But Ashton-Kirk shook his head. 

"I don't know, " said he. "In fact, I have been strangely idle for thelast fortnight. The most exciting things that have appeared above mypersonal horizon have been a queer little edition of Albertus-Magnus, struck off in an obscure printing shop in Florence in the early partof the sixteenth century, and a splendid, large paper Poe, to which Ifortunately happened to be a subscriber. "

A volume of the Poe and the Albertus-Magnus were lying at hand;Pendleton ignored the dumpy, stained little Latin volume; itsstrong-smelling leather binding and faded text had no attractions forhim. But he took up the Poe and began idly turning its leaves. 

"It is a mistake to suppose that some specific thing must be the causeof an action, or a train of thought, " resumed the other, from thecomfortable depths of his chair. "Sometimes thousands of things go tothe making of a single thought, countless others to the doing of asingle deed. And yet again, a thing entirely unassociated with aresult may be the beginning of the result, so to speak. For example, avolume of Henry James which I was reading last night might be thecause of my turning to the literature of assassination this morning;your friendly visit may result in my coming in contact with a murderthat will make any of these, " with a nod toward the scattered volumes, "seem tame. "

Pendleton threw away his cigarette and proceeded to roll another. 

"It is my earnest desire to remain upon friendly terms with you, Kirk, " stated he, with a smile. "Therefore, I will make no commentexcept to say that your last reflection was entirely uncalled for. "

Lighting the cigarette, he turned the tall leaves of the beautifulvolume upon his knee. 

"This edition is quite perfection, " he remarked admiringly. "And I'msorry that I was not asked to subscribe. However, " and Pendletonglanced humorously at his friend, "I don't suppose its beauty is whatattracts you to-day. It is because certain pages are spread with therecords of crime. I notice that this volume holds both 'The Murders inthe Rue Morgue' and the 'Mystery of Marie Roget. '"

"Right, " smiled Ashton-Kirk. "I admit I was browsing among the detailsof those two masterpieces when you came in. A great fellow, Poe. Hispeculiar imagination gave him a marvelous grasp of criminalpossibilities. "

Ashton-Kirk took up the "Confessions of an English Opium-Eater" andturned the leaves until he came to "Murder Considered as One of theFine Arts. "

"In some things I have detected an odd similarity in the work of DeQuincey and Poe. Mind you, I say in some things. As to what enteredinto the structure of an admirably conceived murder they were as farapart as the poles. The ideals of the 'Society of Connoisseurs inMurder' must have excited in Poe nothing but contempt. A coarsebutchery--a wholesale slaughter was received by this association withraptures; a pale-eyed, orange-haired blunderer, with a shipcarpenter's mallet hidden under his coat, was hailed as an artist. 

"You don't find Poe wasting time on uncouth monsters who roar liketigers, bang doors and smear whole rooms with blood. His assassins hada joy in planning their exploits as well as in the execution of them. They were intelligent, secret, sure. And in every case theyaccomplished their work and escaped detection. "

"You must not forget, however, " complained Pendleton, "that DeQuincey's assassin, John Williams, was a real person, and his killingsactual occurrences. Poe's workmen were creatures of his imagination, their crimes, with the possible exception of 'Marie Roget, ' werepurely fanciful. The creator of the doer and the deed had a clearfield; and in that, perhaps, lies the superiority of Poe. "

Ashton-Kirk sighed humorously. 

"Perhaps, " said he. "At any rate the select crimes are usually theconceptions of men who have no idea of putting them into execution. And that, upon consideration, is a fortunate thing for society. But, at the same time, it is most irritating to a man of a speculative turnof mind. Fiction teems with most splendid murders. Captain Marryat, inSnarleyow, created an almost perfect horror in the attempted slaughterof the boy Smallbones by the hag mother of Vanslyperken; the lad'sreversal of the situation and his plunging a bayonet into the wrinkledthroat, makes the chapter an accomplishment difficult to displace. Remember it?"

Pendleton arose and opened one of the windows. 

"Even the noise and smell of this street of yours are grateful afterwhat I have been listening to, " said he. Then, after a moment spent inexamining the adjacent outdoors, he added in a tone of wonderment. "Isay, Kirk, this is really a hole of a place to live! Why don't youmove?"

The other arose and joined him at the window. Old-fashioned streetsalter wonderfully after the generations of the elect have passed; butwhen Eastern Europe takes to dumping its furtive hordes into one, thechange is marked indeed. In this one peddler's wagons replaced theshining carriages of a former day--wagons drawn by large-jointedhorses and driven by bearded men who cried their wares in strange, throaty voices. 

Everything exhaled a thick, semi-oriental smell. Dully paintedfire-escapes clung hideously to the fronts of the buildings;stagnant-looking men, wearing their hats, leaned from bedroom windows. The once decent hallways were smutted with grimy hands; the widemarble steps were huddled with alien, unclean people. 

A splendidly spired church stood almost shoulder to shoulder with theAshton-Kirk house. Once it had been a place of dignified Episcopalworship; but years of neglect had made it unwholesome and cavern-like;and finally it was given over to a tribe of stolid Lithuanians whostuck a cheaply gilded Greek cross over the door and thronged thestreet with their wedding and christening processions. 

"Perhaps, " said Ashton-Kirk, after a moment's study of the prospect, "yes, perhaps it _is_ a hole of a place in which to live. But you seewe've had this house since shortly after the Revolution; fourgenerations have been born here. As I have no fashionable wife and Ilive alone, I am content to stay. Then, the house suits me; everythingis arranged to my taste. The environment may not be the mostdesirable; but, my visitors are seldom of the sort that object toexternals. "

"Well, you have one just now who is not what you might call partial tosuch neighborhoods, " said Pendleton. "And, " looking at his watch, "youwill shortly have another who will be, perhaps, still less favorablyimpressed. "

"Ah!" said Ashton-Kirk. 

He curled himself up upon the deep window sill while Pendleton wentback to his chair and the tobacco. 

"It's a lady, " resumed Pendleton, the brown paper crackling betweenhis fingers, "a lady of condition, quality and beauty. "

"It sounds pleasant enough, " smiled the other. "But why is shecoming?"

"To consult you--ah--I suppose we might call it--professionally. No, Idon't know what it is about; but judging from her manner, it issomething of no little consequence. "

"She sent you to prepare the way for her, then?"

"Yes. It is Miss Edyth Vale, daughter of James Vale, the 'StructuralSteel King, ' you remember they used to call him before he died a fewyears ago. She was an only child, and except for the four millionswhich he left to found a technical school, she inherited everything. And when you say everything in a case like this, it meansconsiderable. "

Ashton-Kirk nodded. 

"She is a distant relative of mine, " resumed Pendleton; "her motherwas connected in some vague way with my mother; and because of thisindefinite link, we've always been"--here he hesitated for aninstant--"well, rather friendly. Last night we happened to meet atUpton's, and I took her in to dinner. Edyth is a nice girl, but I'venoticed of late that she's not had a great deal to say. Sort of quietand big-eyed and all that, you know. Seems healthy enough, but does agreat deal of thinking and looking away at nothing. I've talked to herfor ten minutes straight, only to find that she hadn't heard a wordI'd said. 

"So, as you will understand, I did not expect a great deal of her atdinner. But directly across from us was young Cartwright--"

"Employed in the Treasury Department?"

"That's the man. Well, he began to talk departmental affairs with someone well down the table--you know how some of these serious kidsare--and as there seemed to be nothing else to do, I gave my wholeattention to the interesting performance of Mrs. Upton's cook. I musthave been falling into a dreamy rapture; but at any rate I suddenlyawoke, so to speak. To my surprise Edyth was talking--quiteanimatedly--with Cartwright, and about you. "

"Ah!" said Ashton-Kirk. "That's very pleasant. It is not given toevery man that the mention of him should stir a melancholy young ladyinto animation. "

"Have you done anything in your line for the Treasury Departmentlately?" asked Pendleton. 

"Oh, a small matter of some duplicate plates, " said Ashton-Kirk. "Ithad some interest, but there was nothing extraordinary in it. "

"Well, Cartwright didn't think that. I did not come to in time tocatch the nature of your feat, but he seemed lost in admiration ofyour cleverness. He was quite delighted, too, at securing Edyth'sattention. You see, it was a thing he had scarcely hoped for. So heproceeded to relate all he had ever heard about you. That queer littlematter of the Lincoln death-mask, you know, and the case of theBelgian Consul and the spurious Van Dyke. And he had even heard someof the things you did in the university during your senior year. Hisrecital of your recovery of the silver figure of the Greek runnerwhich went as the Marathon prize in 1902 made a great hit, I assureyou. 

"But when he answered 'No' to Edyth's earnest question as to whetherhe were acquainted with you, she lost interest; and when I promptlyfurnished the information that I was, he was forgotten. During theremainder of the dinner I had time for little else but Edyth'squestions. When she learned that you had taken up investigation as asort of profession, she was quite delighted, and before we parted Iwas asked to arrange a consultation. "

"She will be here this morning, then?" asked Ashton-Kirk. 

Pendleton once more looked at his watch. 

"Within a very few minutes, " said he. 

CHAPTER II

MISS EDYTH VALE STATES HER CASE

It was exactly three minutes later when the continuous tooting of ahorn told of the approach of another motor car along the crowdedstreet. Then the door-bell rang. 

Ashton-Kirk arose and touched one of a series of buttons in the wall. Almost instantly a buzzer made sharp reply. He lifted a tube. 

"If it is Miss Edyth Vale, " spoke he, "show her up. "

A little later a knock came upon the door. The grave faced Germanopened it, ushering in an astonishingly lovely girl; tall, mostfashionably attired and with a manner of eager anxiety. Both menarose. 

"Considering that you are under twenty-five, " said Pendleton, "you areremarkably prompt in keeping your engagements, Edyth. "

But the girl did not answer his smile. There was a troubled look inher brown eyes; she tugged nervously at her gloves to get them off. 

"This is Mr. Ashton-Kirk?" she asked. 

"It is, " answered Pendleton. "Kirk, this is my cousin, Edyth Vale. "

Ashton-Kirk gave the girl a chair; she sat down, regarding him allthe time with much interest. The gloves were removed by now; but shecontinued plucking at the empty fingers and drawing them through herhands. 

"I have heard of you quite frequently, " said she to Ashton-Kirk, "butdid not dream that I would ever be forced to benefit by your talents. Mr. Pendleton has been kind enough to arrange this interview at myrequest; and I desire to consult you upon a most important matter--avery private matter. "

Pendleton caught the hesitating glance which she threw at him andreached for his hat. 

"Edyth, " said he, "after all I have done for you, this is verydistressing. I had not expected to be bundled out in this manner. "

She smiled faintly, and nodded. 

"Thank you, Jimmie, " she said. "You are a nice boy. "

After Pendleton had gone, Miss Vale sat for some moments in silence;and all the time her eyes went from one part of the room to another, curiously; she seemed to be trying to estimate the man whom she cameto consult by his surroundings. 

At one side, rank on rank of books ran from floor to ceiling; otherswere scattered about in chairs, on stands and on the floor. At onespot the wall was racked with glittering, and to her, strange lookinginstruments. An open door gave a glimpse of a second apartment withbare, plastered wall, fitted with tables covered with sheet lead andcluttered with tanks, grotesquely swelling retorts, burners, jars andother things that make up a complete laboratory. 

But these told her nothing, except that the man was a student; andthis she had heard before. 

So she gave her attention to Ashton-Kirk himself. He stood by the openwindow, the morning light beating strongly upon his dark, keen face, apparently watching the uncouth surging in the street below. 

"He's very handsome and very wealthy, " her friend Connie Bayless hadinformed her only that morning. "Comes of a very old family; has theentrée into the most exclusive houses, but practically ignoressociety. "

"Oh, yes, I know him, " her uncle, an eminent attorney, had told her. "A very unusual young man. I might call him acutely intellectual, andhe is an adept in many out of the way branches of knowledge. He wouldmake a wonderful lawyer, but has too much imagination. Thinks more ofvisionary probabilities than of tangible facts. "

"As an amateur actor, " Pendleton had confided to her, "Kirk is withoutan equal. If he adopted the stage, he'd make a sensation. At collegehe was a most tremendous athlete too--football, cross-country running, wrestling, boxing. And I'm told that he still keeps in training. Clever chap. "

"I never saw a more splendid natural equipment for languages, " saidProfessor Hutchinson. "The most sprawling dialect seemed a simplematter to him; Greek and the oriental tongues were no more trouble inhis case than the 'first reader' is to an intelligent child. "

She had spoken with Mrs. Stokes-Corbin over the telephone. Mrs. Stokes-Corbin was related to Ashton-Kirk, and her information waskindly but emphatic. 

"My dear, " said the lady, "I do hope you haven't fallen in love withhim. No? Well, that's fortunate. He's one of the dearest fellows inthe world, but one of the most extraordinary. I can't fancy hismarrying at all. His ways and moods and really preposterous habitswould drive a wife mad. You can't imagine the extent of them. Hespends days and nights in positively uncanny chemical experiments. Without a word to anyone he plunges off on some mysterious errand, tobe gone for weeks. They do tell me that he is to all intents andpurposes a policeman. But I really can't quite credit that, you know. He loves to do things that others have tried and failed. Even as a boyhe was that way. It was quite discouraging to have a child straightenout little happenings that we had all given up in despair. Sometimesit was quite convenient, but I'm not sure that I ever liked it. Acharming talker, my dear; he knows so much to talk about. But he'seccentric; and an eccentric young man is a frightful burden to thoseconnected with him. "

All these things passed through the mind of Edyth Vale, as she satregarding the young man at the window. Finally he lifted his eyes andturned them upon her--beautiful eyes--remarkable, full of perception, compelling. As he caught her intent, inquiring look, he smiled; shecolored slightly, but met his glance bravely. 

"Last night I heard you spoken of, " she said, "and it occurred to methat you could aid me. "

"I should be glad to, " said he. "It sometimes happens that I can be ofservice to persons extraordinarily circumstanced. If you will let mehear your story--for, " with a smile, "all who come to see me as youhave done _have_ a story--I shall be able to definitely say whetheryour case comes within my province. "

She hesitated a moment, her hands nervously engaged with the gloves. Then she said, frankly. 

"I suppose it is only sensible to speak quite candidly with you, Mr. Ashton-Kirk, as one does with a lawyer or a physician. "

He nodded. 

"Of course, " said he. 

For another moment she seemed to be turning her thoughts over andseeking the best means of making a beginning. 

"It is very silly of me, I know, " she said; "but I feel quite like theworking girl who writes to the correspondence editor of an eveningpaper for advice in smoothing out her love affairs. " She bent towardhim, the laugh vanishing from her face, a troubled look taking itsplace, and continued. "I am to be married--some day--and it is aboutthat that I wish to speak to you. "

"I realize the difficulties of the subject, " spoke Ashton-Kirkquietly. 

"What I am going to tell you, I have never mentioned to anyone before. It has been three years ago--four years at Christmas time--since Ifirst met Allan Morris, " she said. "Our engagement so quickly followedthat my friends said it was a very clear case of love at first sight. Perhaps it was!

"However that might be, we were very happy for a time. But trouble wasin store for us. I had always disbelieved in long engagements, hadalways been very outspoken against them, in fact. This is perhaps whatmade me so quickly notice an absence of haste on Mr. Morris' part asto the wedding. When the subject came up, as it naturally would, heseemed to avoid it. At first I was surprised; but finally I grewannoyed, and spoke my mind very frankly. 

"You see, he is not at all well off, and I am--well I have a greatdeal. I thought this might have something to do with his apparentreluctance. But no, it was something else. As I just said, I spokefrankly; and he was equally candid, after a fashion. He said it wasquite impossible for us to be married for some time. There was asomething--he did not say what--which must first be settled. NaturallyI grew curious. I desired to know what it was that so stood in the wayof our happiness. He replied that it was something that must not bespoken of, and was so very earnest in the matter that I did notmention it again--for a long time. 

"You may think, Mr. Ashton-Kirk, that my fiancé was no very ardentlover. But I was assured, and I do not lack perception, that he waspassionately fond of me. And I still think so. But as time went by, things did not alter; our wedding was a vague expectation; even morethan before Mr. Morris avoided mention of anything definite. 

"I am not naturally patient; and my rearing as the only child of anenormously rich man has perhaps added to my impetuousness. In a burstof temper one day, I broke the engagement, gave him back his ring anddid a number of other rather silly things. But he was so tragic inhis despair--so utterly broken hearted and white--that I immediatelyrelented and we patched the matter up once more. That he loved me wasplain; but that he could not marry me--for some mysterious reason--waseven plainer. 

"After this I began to notice a change in him. He was rather silentand given to reverie; he seldom laughed. Sometimes he was haggard andso wrought up, apparently, that he could scarcely contain himself. Hewould pace the floor, evidently with little realization as to what hewas doing. Once he was really dreadfully agitated. I calmed him aswell as I could, and he sat for a long time, thinking deeply. As Iwatched him, he sprang to his feet and dashing his fist upon a table, cried out, passionately:

"'The black-hearted rascal! He's mocking me!'

"Then like a flash he realized the strangeness of his conduct, andwith anxious, alarmed face, asked my pardon. I felt that this was anopportunity to put an end to a situation that was growing intolerable. My persistent questioning gained me something, but, on the whole, nota great deal. 

"The thing that was troubling him was a business matter. In some wayhe was in the hands of some one--these are the indefinite threads thatI gathered--a mocking, jeering, smiling someone whom he hated, butfrom whom he could not free himself. 

"I began to tell him that there could be nothing strong enough initself to prevent our happiness; but he stopped me in such a way thatI did not feel inclined to continue. In an outburst, filled withdenunciations of his enemy and protestations of devotion to myself, Icaught the name of Hume. He had dropped this inadvertently. I knew itinstantly because of the swift look that he gave me. But I allowed nohint of what I thought to show in my face. He was more subdued duringthe remainder of his stay; the mentioning of the name had startledhim, and he was doubtless afraid that his state of mind would lead himinto further indiscretions. 

"As you may suppose, the name--the first tangible thing that I hadlearned--was of much interest to me. If I could but find out who thisperson was, I could probably get to the bottom of the matter. "

At this point Miss Vale paused; and Ashton-Kirk noted her head liftproudly. 

"Perhaps, " she continued, "it might be thought that I had no right tomake such an effort in a matter which Mr. Morris saw fit to keep fromme. Were you thinking that? But I am not a silent sufferer. I usuallymake an end of annoying things without delay. And I would have doneso in this case long before, but I was in love; and I could not bearto see Allan suffer by my insistence. 

"However, here was an opportunity to perhaps aid him; and I set towork. In a few hours next day I had located every person of the nameof Hume in the city. Mr. Morris is a consulting engineer. Anyone namedHume who, from his occupation, would be likely to have dealings withhim especially attracted my attention. There were only a few, and longbefore the day was over I had satisfied myself by personal visits attheir places of business that they did not even know him. "

Ashton-Kirk smiled. One of his well-kept hands patted applause uponthe arm of his chair. 

"You are strong, " said he. "I recognized your type when you camein. It is a pleasure to have one's judgment so thoroughly andsatisfactorily proven. "

Miss Vale looked pleased. 

"I am glad that you approve of what I did, " she said. "I confess I hadsome hesitancy, but not enough to prevent my carrying out the design. But when the first effort proved without result, I set about making astudy of all the Humes in the directory. I had my secretary make me atyped list of them, with their addresses and occupations, and I poredover this for hours at a time. 

"There was one that caught my eye after a while; probably this wasbecause of the unusualness of his business. The directory gave him asa numismatist; but I drove by his shop in my car, and the sign overthe window said that he was also a dealer in curiosities of art. 

"This gave me an idea. Mr. Morris is an ardent collector; his hobby isengraved gems, and for a man of his means his possessions in this lineare quite remarkable. It was easily within the range of possibilitythat he had had transactions with this particular Hume--at least thathe was acquainted with him. The more I thought of this, the morecurious I grew; and one afternoon I paid the place a visit. It is onthe second floor, the entrance is through a side door and up a narrow, dusty stairway. Then I had to make my way along a dark windowlesspassage to the office, or shop in the front. 

"This shop was well lighted, and literally stuffed with what were welltermed 'curiosities of art. ' I never before saw such queer carvings, such freakish pottery, such weird and utterly impossible bric-a-brac. At a table sat a flabby looking man with a short sandy beard. Oneglance told me that he was an habitual drunkard, for he had thesodden look that is unmistakable. But when he arose and bid me goodevening his manner struck me like a blow in the face. Allan Morris hadspoken of a mocking person who jeered and smiled. And that describedthis man exactly. There was mockery in every glance of his dull eyes;every twitch of his mouth was a fleer; with each gesture he seemedmaking game of one; sneering incredulity was stamped all over him. "

Ashton-Kirk leaned forward with keen interest. 

"My manner must have betrayed me, " the girl went on, "for I saw aninquiring crease come into his forehead. When he asked the nature ofmy business his voice was sharp and insolent. 

"I had not thought as to what I should say, what excuse I should givein this case. But almost instantly my mind was made up. About the mostconspicuous thing in the room was a squat Japanese idol--a fat, grinning, hideous thing which sat upon a sort of pedestal near thedoor. So I laid my hand in it. 

"'I was told of this, ' said I, examining the idol minutely, 'and camein to see it. '

"'Ah, yes, ' said he. But it was plain enough that he did not believeme. 

"I inquired the price of the figure. He named a high one; and Ibelieve I astonished him by purchasing it without another word. Theidol was delivered late that afternoon. I had it unpacked at once andplaced where Mr. Morris could not fail to see it when he called. "

"A clever plan, " commented Ashton-Kirk, admiringly. 

"He saw it when he entered the room and greeted me. He was smiling;and the smile froze on his lips, his face went pale, and he turned alook upon me that filled me with fear, it was so wan and startled. 

"I had intended telling him the full truth if my ruse succeeded. Butafter that look I could not. I convinced him by a nonchalant mannerand story, that I had come by the idol accidentally. At least I_think_ I convinced him, though I noticed his watching me steadilyfrom under very level brows more than once during the evening. But ifhe had any suspicions that I was deceiving him, he did not put theminto words. "

Here Miss Vale paused for a moment. Then she resumed:

"I tried, in various ways, to gain a knowledge of the relationshipbetween my fiancé and this sneering shopkeeper; but they were allineffectual. Mr. Ashton-Kirk, this occurred fully three months ago, and the situation remains the same as it was upon that night. "

Then with a suddenness that startled the young man she lifted twotrembling hands to her face and began to sob gaspingly. When she tookthe hands away there were no signs of tears, but her beautiful facewas drawn with pain and her voice shook as she said:

"I don't think I can stand it much longer. I beg of you not to thinklightly of my story; for the thing that stands between Allan Morrisand myself is deadly. As I watch him I can see that his heart isbreaking; his health is failing, there is a look of fear in his eyes. "She reached forward and her hand rested upon the sleeve ofAshton-Kirk. "He is at the mercy of this mocking monster that I havedescribed to you. It is killing him, and through him it is killing me. Help me, please. "

Ashton-Kirk smiled reassuringly. 

"As far as I can see, " said he, "the case is a simple one. However, itmay turn out the reverse. But in either event I can promise you aswift and energetic attempt to set the matter right. "

"Thank you!" She stood up. "And you will begin to-day?"

"At once!"

"You are kind. " She held out her hand; he took it. "Thank you, again. "

Stumph appeared, in answer to the bell. She turned to go. 

"There is nothing more that you can tell me?" he inquired. 

"Nothing. "

"I had supposed that. Your recital sounded pretty complete. "

When the door closed upon her, he stood for a few moments in themiddle of the floor, his head bent forward, his hands behind him. Thenhe turned and touched another of the system of bells. 

Immediately a brisk, boyish looking young man presented himself. 

"Fuller, " spoke Ashton-Kirk, "I want instant and complete informationupon one Hume, a local numismatist, and Allan Morris, consultingengineer. "

"Very well, sir. " And Fuller turned at once, and left the room. 

CHAPTER III

THE PORTRAITS OF GENERAL WAYNE

When Ashton-Kirk returned that evening from the theatre, where he hadgone to witness a much heralded new drama, he sat with a cigar, in hislibrary; and stretching out his length in great comfort, he smoked andsmiled and thought of what he had seen and heard. 

"The drama as a medium of expression is necessarily limited, " theyoung man was saying to himself, "and of course, in fitting humanaction to its narrow bounds, the dramatist is sometimes tempted toignore certain human elements. In spots, the people of the play actedlike puppets; upon seven different occasions, by actual count, theentire matter would have been cleared up if someone had sharply spokenhis mind. But he did not, and the thing was allowed to becomehopelessly involved because of it. "

He knocked the ashes from his cigar; and a smile came to his lips. 

"It would not have served the purpose of the dramatist, I suppose; hisplay would have ended abruptly, and far short of the prescribed time. He tried to tell a human story and chose an unhuman method. "

There was another pause; the smile now disappeared and a thoughtfullook came into his face. 

"And yet, " he mused, "is the playwright really so far wrong? Is hisstage story very far removed from actuality after all? In Miss EdythVale, we have a girl of most unusual character, of splendid education, apparently. And yet in the building of her own drama she hasoutstripped the inventor of stage plays in the matter of hesitancy. Her natural inclination urged her to make a firm stand; but otherfeelings proved the stronger, and she held her tongue much after thefashion of the girl in the play. "

He was puffing at a second cigar when there came a knock on the door, and Fuller entered. 

"Well?" said Ashton-Kirk. 

"I thought you'd perhaps like to look over this data before morning, "said the young man, as he laid a number of typed sheets and aphotograph at Ashton-Kirk's elbow. "As you required instant action Igot Burgess on the Hume end of it before noon; after luncheon I tookup Morris myself. "

"Thank you, " said the other. 

"Morris, " with a nod toward the photograph, "is rather uneventful, personally. And it was no very difficult matter to get the factsconcerning him. But Burgess had a much more interesting time. Humeseems to have lots of color as a character. Not that there was a greatdeal shown--the time was too short. But the indications arepromising. "

When Fuller had gone, Ashton-Kirk took up the sheets and began to readthem carefully. They were brief, pointed and evidently the work of menwho were familiar enough with their business to eliminate allnon-essentials. The first one ran:

"Allan Barnett Morris, Consulting Engineer. Specialty, MarineConstruction. Lives at the Crompton Apartments. Born October 15, 1879. Graduate of Cornell; class of 1900. Special honors. Brilliant student. Was at once engaged by the New England Ship Building Company. Soonbecame their right hand man. Resigned in 1905; took offices in theBlake Building. Is much employed by the Government. Has the reputationof a growing man in his line and is admitted by competent persons tobe an expert. 

"He is unmarried and has no relatives. The last of these to die washis father--a trifle more than three years ago. The father had areputation for great brilliancy and hard drinking. He was an inventorof some note. See the Morris Smoke Consumer--the Morris Propeller--theMorris Automatic Brake. But he never made much out of any of these. The appetite for liquor forced him to surrender, for very little, interests that made fortunes for other men. 

"Young Morris is clear of the drink habit, and is a hard andpersistent worker. He is a member of the University and the BrookdaleField Clubs; goes into society, and is reported to be the acceptedsuitor of Miss Edyth Vale, daughter of the late James Vale, manufacturer of structural steel. "

"A clean bill of health, as far as it goes, " commented Ashton-Kirk. "However, surface inquiries tell very little, sometimes. "

He turned to the remaining pages. 

"David Purtell Hume, Numismatist, philatelist, dealer in objects ofart and curiosities. Resides at his place of business, second floor of478 Christie Place. 

"Hume located in this city in 1899. Where he came from is notdefinitely known, but there is some slight cause for supposing that heis an American who had been living abroad. However, an examination ofthe steamship passenger lists for 1898-99 fail to show his name. 

"Is well known in his line and is reputed to be wealthy. Is muchdisliked by his neighbors and others in the same trade. Even those whopatronize him have an aversion to him; but as he is an authority, andhis stock always contains rarities, they do not take their customelsewhere. 

"Hume has been under suspicion upon several occasions. But the policecould gather no positive evidence against him, at any time. Therobbery of the Hailesbury gallery at London, when the famous Whistlerportrait of the Duchess of Winterton was cut from its frame, wastraced almost to his door. But the scent died out before they couldclinch the matter, and he escaped. It was believed that the thingwas planned by him and executed by a confederate. Several otheroccurrences of like nature, but of less importance, have been laidagainst him. But, if he was concerned in them, he was always cunningenough to hide his tracks. 

"He is an habitual drinker, of violent temper, and is reputed to havea positive genius for discovering raw spots in an acquaintance andgoading him for the sheer joy of seeing him writhe. It is this traitthat causes the general dislike for him in the Christie Place section. 

"He is a free liver, spends much money and has a passion for music. "

Ashton-Kirk laid down the sheets and threw away his cigar. 

"As Fuller remarked, Mr. Hume seems to be a colorful character. Andapparently one that would be likely to lead Mr. Allan Morris a verylively dance if he had a hold of any sort upon him. "

He arose to his feet, a pleased light in his eye, and began walking upand down the floor. 

"It is more than likely that it will prove some trifle that Morris'fears have lifted to the plane of a tragedy. But, somehow, the partsof the case seem to fall in a promising manner. I get a sort ofpleasure in anticipating a possible grapple with Mr. David PurtellHume. "

For a full hour, Ashton-Kirk moved up and down the library, his eyeshalf closed, varying expressions appearing and disappearing upon hisface. At length there came a smile of satisfaction and he paused inhis pacing. 

"That is probably it, " said he. "At any rate it is a very favorablecoincidence. However, I must have more information than the hurriedreports of Burgess and Fuller to be certain. Yes, this promises to beinteresting. "

With that he went to his room and to bed. 

The dull gray of a damp spring morning was peering in at his windowwhen he awoke. By the light he knew that it was hours before his usualtime. Something had aroused him; but he could not say what. He sat upin bed, and as he did so there came the long continued and smotheredringing of a bell. 

"The telephone, " said he. 

"R-r-r-r-ring-g!" it persisted. And then again:"R-r-r-r-ring-ing-ing! R-r-r-ring!"

Ashton-Kirk heard a door open and close softly on the floor above;then slippered feet came pat-patting down the stairs. The wild rattleof the bell suddenly stopped; a muffled voice could be heardprotesting dismally against the din. But suddenly the vague complaintgave way to a higher note. 

"Alarm, " said Ashton-Kirk. "Something has happened. "

He reached up and turned on the electric bulb that hung above hishead; then he drew his feet up under him after the fashion of a Turkand waited, calmly. 

The padded steps swiftly approached his door; a sharp knock sounded onthe panels. 

"Well?" demanded the young man. 

"There is an urgent call, sir, " came the voice of Stumph--"on thetelephone. It's the lady who called yesterday--Miss Vale. "

Ashton-Kirk slipped from the bed; a step brought him to the door, which he threw open. 

"Very well, Stumph, " said he, quietly. "You may go back to bed. "

The grave-faced German went stolidly down the hall; the young manpulled on a pair of felt slippers; in the library he put the detachedreceiver to his ear and spoke evenly:

"Well, Miss Vale?"

There was a small, gasping exclamation from the wire, a sort ofbreath-catching flutter of sound such as a person might utter who hadbeen running hard. Then Edyth Vale, her voice shaking and filled withfear, said:

"Oh! Is that you! I'm glad--glad!"

"Get a firm grip on yourself, " advised Ashton-Kirk. "If anything hashappened we can no doubt remedy it. "

There came a series of moaning sobs across the wire; the girl hadevidently broken down and was crying. Ashton-Kirk said nothing; hewaited patiently. Finally she spoke once more. 

"What has happened can _never_ be remedied. " Then her voice sank solow that he could scarcely catch the breathless words. "There has beenmurder done. "

The investigator felt the blood prickle beneath his skin. However, hisvoice was steady as he replied; his calmly working mind shook off thefear which she so strongly suggested. 

"Who has been murdered?" he asked. 

"The man whom I told you about yesterday--the numismatist, Hume. "

"Ah!" Ashton-Kirk drew in a long breath and his eyes began to glow. There was an instant's pause, then he said: "The hour is ratherunconventional; but if you will receive me, I'll have you tell meabout this matter privately and at once. "

"By all means, " she answered, eagerly. "I was about to beg of you tocome. "

"In a half hour, " said he, briefly. "Good-by. "

He hung up the receiver and touched one of the buttons. When Stumphcame, he said:

"Turn the cold water into my bath. Then order the car in haste. "

"Yes, sir. "

"Afterwards you can lay out a rough suit, heavy shoes and a soft hat. "

"Instantly, sir. "

Within twenty minutes Ashton-Kirk ran down the steps and sprang intothe powerful looking car that awaited him; and well within the halfhour he rang the bell at the marble palace built by the steel magnateduring the last years of his life. A heavy-eyed man servant admittedhim with astonished resentment. Miss Vale, looking very tall and verypale, met him in the hall. But for all her pallor she seemed quitecollected, even smiling. 

"Oh, I'm so sorry to have brought you out so early and on such adismal morning, " she said, lightly, leading him into a room at oneside. "I'm sure it is very damp. "

She sat down and motioned him to a chair; he studied her with somesurprise; the transition from wild terror to her present calm wasmost notable. 

"There has been a recovery of poise, evidently, " Ashton-Kirk toldhimself. "She is still frightened, but for some reason is anxious tohide it. "

"This morning, " said Miss Vale, with a laugh that rang perfectly, "Ifound that I was only a woman after all. This--this dreadful thing sostartled me that for a time I did not know what to do. My firstimpulse was to call you, and I acted upon it. But, " with a prettygesture of apology, "when I had recovered myself somewhat, I saw thatI had disturbed you unnecessarily. "

"You don't mean that, after all, Hume is not--"

She held up her hand for him to stop. A strong shudder seemed to runthrough her; she bent her head so that the light would not fall toostrongly upon her face. In a moment, however, she recovered. 

"Yes, yes, " she said, her voice perfectly under control. "He isdead--shockingly murdered. What I mean is, that while the event isvery dreadful--still, it does not really concern me more than anyother crime of the same nature which we see staring at us from thecolumns of the newspapers every day. This man's being in my mind somuch of late caused me to become unnerved when I heard the news. "

"When did it occur?"

"Sometime since midnight. "

There was a silence. Miss Vale arose and began to pace the room. Thelong white cloak that had draped her fell away; she wore a ball dressand her arms and shoulders shone splendidly under the lights. 

"How did you hear of it?" asked Ashton-Kirk. 

There was a scarcely perceptible hesitancy; then she answered:

"Through the newspapers. We were returning from Mrs. Barron's aboutthree o'clock. The papers had just come out, and I felt a curiosity tosee them wet from the press. When I reached home the first thing thatcaught my eye was the account of Hume's death. "

"Did you call me up at once?"

"Yes. As I have said, it was the first thing that occurred to me. Andagain I beg your pardon for having disturbed you uselessly. "

Ashton-Kirk gestured this aside. 

"It may be that the affair will turn out to have some interestingfeatures, " said he. "And with that possibility in view, I am ratherpleased than not in having an opportunity of getting so early upon theground. "

She paused in her pacing, and turned upon him a startled look. 

"You do not mean to go there--to Christie Place, " she said. 

[Illustration: "YOU DO NOT MEAN TO GO THERE"--]

"I may as well. I may be of use. " He looked at her for a momentsteadily, then asked: "Do you know of any reason why I should not go?"

Instantly the startled look vanished; a smile lit up the pale face, wanly. 

"Of course not, " she cried. "You are interested in dreadfulhappenings--I had forgotten that. I suppose you _are_ really quitedelighted; and instead of my craving pardon I should be expectingpraise, for putting you in the way of this one. "

She laughed lightly; a smile flitted across his keen face, as he roseand said:

"What has happened may make a change in the affairs of Allan Morris. "

She came to him and laid a hand upon his arm. Her coolness won hisadmiration. 

"I beg of you to forget all that I told you yesterday, " she said. "Ihad been brooding so long that I had begun to fancy all sorts ofimpossible things. I see very clearly now that this man Hume couldhave had nothing of any consequence to do with Mr. Morris. It was aromance--a rather foolish fancy, and a very wild one. "

There was sweet seriousness in her manner; and the lurking smilestill hovered about her lips. It was as though a return to reason haddriven away the fears of the day before--the alarmed girl had givenplace to a sensible woman. 

But behind all this, Ashton-Kirk could detect something else. Thealmost swooning terror of the girl who had spoken to him over thetelephone was still there--held rigidly in check to be sure, butunquestionably there. While her lips smiled, the eyes sometimesbetrayed her; and there was a tenseness about her that almostscreamed. Her good-by was soft and kindly spoken; she held out herhand, frankly, and thanked him for his interest. There was nothinghurried in her manner; it was all smoothly and leisurely done. And yethe felt that if she had followed the impulse that filled her, shewould have taken him, by the shoulder and bundled him from the room inorder that she might be alone. 

"Alone--to think, " he said, as he got into his car at the curb. "Butto think about what?" Aloud he said to the driver: "Christie Place. "

By this time the early workers were beginning to thicken in thestreet; street cars were more frequent; the dull night hum of the citywas growing in volume. The spark had set the car's engine throbbingheavily, and the driver was about to start when a second vehicle drewup and Ashton-Kirk found himself looking into the alarmed face ofyoung Pendleton. 

"Heavens, Kirk!" cried the newcomer, as he leaped out, "has anythingserious happened?"

"To whom?" asked the investigator, quietly, his eyes fixed upon theyoung man's face. 

"To Edyth, of course. Has any thing been seen of her?"

"I have just left her; she seemed a bit agitated, but perfectly well. "

A look of relief crossed Pendleton's face. 

"Oh!" said he. "All right. I was beginning to think that something wasup. You see, " and here he lowered his voice, "I danced with her aboutmidnight at Mrs. Barron's; about two o'clock her aunt, Mrs. Page, cameto me in great distress and said she was strangely missing. She hadslipped away somewhere without a word. "

Ashton-Kirk looked at him keenly. 

"Of course it was up to me to find her, " said Pendleton; "but myefforts were without result. Her car was gone, and the man said MissVale had called it about one o'clock; also that she had driven away init alone. 

"At this news Mrs. Page grew quite ill, and I brought her home here inmy car. Then I departed upon a vague sort of search. As the matter wasto be kept perfectly quiet and I was to ask no questions of anybody, you can imagine how much chance I had of doing anything. But if she'sat home, it's all right. At sight of you I thought it had proved to besomething alarming and that they had sent for you. "

"I _was_ sent for, " said Ashton-Kirk, dryly, "but not to hunt for MissVale. Now jump in here and come along; I've got a little matter thatmay be of interest. "

"I haven't had breakfast, " said Pendleton; "but there's alwayssomething piquant to your little affairs. I'll go you. "

He dismissed his own car and climbed into that of his friend. As theywhirled up the street, Ashton-Kirk suddenly directed his driver tostop. Then he called to a man with a great bundle of newspapers whostood calling them monotonously upon a corner. 

Again the car started with the investigator deep in the sheaf ofpapers which he had purchased. Page after page failed to revealanything to his practised glance; at length he swept them to the floorof the car. A smile was upon his lips--the smile of a man who hadreceived a nod of approval from Circumstances. 

"The first edition of the morning dailies lacks interest, " he said. "Acrime of some moment can be committed between midnight and dawn, andnot a line appear in type concerning it until the later issues. "

Pendleton looked at him with mock disapproval. 

"One would suppose, " said he, "that you had expected to find somesuch criminal narrative in those, " and he indicated the discardednewspapers. 

"There were reasons why I should, " answered Ashton-Kirk. "And verygood reasons, too. But, " and he laughed a little, "for all that, I hadan indefinite sort of feeling that I should _not_ find it. This maysound a trifle queer; but nevertheless it is true. "

"The account was to have been of a murder, " accused Pendleton. "I cansee it in your face, so don't take the trouble to deny it. I hadhoped that your plunge into what you styled the 'literature ofassassination' would not last--that a good night's rest would turnyour thoughts into another groove. "

"Perhaps it would have been so, " said Ashton-Kirk. "But things havehappened in the meantime. "

"And you don't appear at all put out that they have done so. That ispossibly the most distressing feature of the business. If anything, you seem rather pleased. Of course, an odd murder or so is to beexpected in the ordinary course of events; but one hardly counts uponone's intimates being concerned in them. It is disconcerting. "

He crossed his legs and pursed up his lips. 

"If you don't mind, " added he, "now that I have expressed myself, I'll listen to the details of whatever you have in view. "

"There is not a great deal to tell, " said Ashton-Kirk. "A man has beenmurdered in Christie Place. It happens that I have an interest in thematter; otherwise I would not think of dipping into it. "

Pendleton looked at him reproachfully. 

"After all, then, " exclaimed he, "you are but a dilettante!Assassination in the abstract is well enough, but you have adisposition to shirk practical examples. I have been deceived!"

Christie Place was some distance west and ran off from a muchfrequented street. It was notable for the wilderness of sign boardsthat flared from each side. The buildings were apparently let out infloors and each lessee endeavored to outdo his neighbor in proclaiminghis business to the passing public. The lower floors were, for themost part, occupied by small grocers, dealers in notions, barbers, confectioners and such like. 

"What a crowded, narrow little place, " commented Pendleton, as the carturned into the street. The air in the street seemed to him heavy. 

About midway in the block a small group stood about a doorway; from awindow above swung a sign bearing the name of Hume. The car stoppedhere; Ashton-Kirk and his friend got out; the group at the doorwayparted and a big man stepped forward. 

"Why, hello, " said he, cordially. "You're the last person I was lookingfor. How did you hear about this?"

"Good morning, Osborne, " said Ashton-Kirk, shaking the big man's hand. "I'm glad to find you in charge. I got it in an unusual sort of way, and came down to have a look. "

Osborne, though in plain clothes, was emphatically a policeman. Hissquare face, his big frame, his dogged expression, somehow conveyedthe impression as plainly as words. 

"It must have been unusual, " said he, "because even the reportershaven't got it yet; headquarters is keeping it quiet until the chiefgets in. "

Ashton-Kirk looked vastly pleased. 

"Excellent, " said he to Pendleton. "We'll have a look at the placebefore it has lost the atmosphere of the crime. " Then to Osborne: "Maywe go up?"

"Sure, " answered the other readily. "Only don't pull things aroundany. That young fellow that they've elected coroner is awful touchyabout such things. He wants to be first always. "

"Nothing of importance shall be disturbed, " promised Ashton-Kirk. Thenmotioning Pendleton to follow, he ascended the flight that led to thesecond floor. 

It was narrow and dusty, as Miss Vale had said. The walls weresmutted, the hand rail felt greasy, the air was stale. A passage, dimand windowless, ran the depth of the building; from the front therecame a patch of daylight through a ground glass door. Upon this lattercould be easily read the words:

 DAVID P. HUME NUMISMATIST PHILATELIST ART CURIOSITIES

A policeman stood at the head of the stairs smoking a cigar in aninformal way. 

"All right, " said he, "if Osborne let you come up I've got nothing tosay. He's the boss. "

"Have you looked over the place?"

"Just a glance. The floor has been fitted up as an apartment. Humeoccupied all the rooms. The body, " pointing to the front room, "is inthere. "

"Thanks. "

Ashton-Kirk turned the knob of the door nearest, the one with thelettering upon it. The room was without windows; the investigatorclosed the door and lighted the gas. 

"Just a moment, " said he. 

The door leading to the front room stood wide. He disappeared throughthis for a moment; when he returned, his face wore a tightenedexpression; his eyes were swift and eager. 

"This is a sort of store room, I should say, " spoke Pendleton. 

Pictures hung about upon the walls and stood packed in corners;statues of bronze, marble and plaster were on every side; brassbas-reliefs, rugs of Eastern design and great price, antique armor, coin cabinets, ponderous stamp albums, Japanese paintings and carvingsand a host of queer and valuable objects fairly crammed every inch ofspace. 

"I had heard that Hume was wealthy, " commented Ashton-Kirk. "And thisseems to prove it. This room contains value enough to satisfy a fairlyreasonable person. "

The two young men passed through into what appeared to be a kitchen. There was an ill kept range upon one side cluttered with cookingthings. A bare oaken table of the Jacobean period held the remains ofa meal. A massive Dutch side-board, covered with beautiful carving, stood facing them; every inch of available space upon it was crowdedwith bottles, decanters and glasses. 

"The gentleman was not averse to an occasional nip, at any rate, " saidPendleton. "And his taste was rather educated, too, " examining thesideboard's contents carefully. "The best was none too good for him. "

Beyond this again was a bedroom. The bed was a huge Flemish affair, and also elaborately carved; over it was a spreading Genoese canopy, which through lack of care had grown dusty and tattered. Rich old rugswere spread upon the neglected floor; a beautiful Louis Quinze tablehad its top covered with discolored rings made by the bottoms ofglasses, and the lighted ends of cigars had burned spots on it. 

"The bed of a prince and the floor coverings of a duke, " saidPendleton with indignation. "And used much as a coal heaver would usethem. Now, this table is really a scandal. If its owner has beenmurdered, I don't wonder at it. Some outraged lover of such things hasprobably taken the law into his own hands. "

But Ashton-Kirk was paying little attention to the things thatappalled Pendleton. 

"Look, " said he. 

He indicated the walls. Here and there the plaster was broken asthough some fastened object had been violently torn away. At one placean empty picture frame, its glass smashed, hung askew from a hook. AsPendleton caught sight of other empty frames littered about the room, the glass of each broken, their pictures torn out, he exclaimed inastonishment:

"Hello! Someone has torn them down and smashed them. What anextraordinary thing to do!"

The pictures, mostly engravings, but with here and there a painting, were strewn about. Ashton-Kirk carefully gathered them up and spreadthem upon the table. They were by various hands, but unquestionablyrepresented the same person--a handsome, resolute looking man in theuniform of an officer in the army of Washington. 

"General Anthony Wayne, " said Ashton-Kirk, softly. 

There was something in the tone that made Pendleton look at himswiftly. The splendid head was bent over the portraits; eagernessblazed in the dark eyes; the keen face was rigid with interest. 

"Some drunken freak, do you think?" asked Pendleton, more to hear hisfriend's view than anything else. 

But Ashton-Kirk shook his head. 

"On the contrary, the thing seems full of a vague meaning, " said he. "There were seventeen pictures upon the walls of this room; fourteenhave been torn down and destroyed; the other three are undisturbed. "

Pendleton gazed at the pictures that remained upon the walls. Two wereof fine looking houses of the colonial type; the third was theportrait of a man--a man of repulsive, sneering face, heavy with evillines and with unusually small eyes. 

"If they had destroyed that one it would have had some meaning to me, "commented Pendleton. "But, as it is, I hardly think I follow you. "

"The meaning that I find, " replied Ashton-Kirk, "lies in the fact thatthe pictures violently used were those of General Wayne only. Markthat fact. That they were deliberately selected for destruction isbeyond question. "

"How do you make that out?"

"It is simple. If this were a mere random stripping of the room of itspictures, all would have suffered. Look, " indicating a spot in thewall, "here is a place where the plaster is broken. A hook had beendriven here to hold one of the portraits; and the breaking of theplaster shows that some determination was required to tear the picturedown. Yet--next this--is an engraving of an old mansion which remainsuntouched. The next four again were portraits of the General, and allhave been demolished. "

Pendleton nodded. 

"That's true, " said he. "Whoever did this was after the Revolutionaryhero alone. But why?"

Ashton-Kirk smiled. 

"We'll look into matters a little further, " said he. "Perhaps thereare facts to be gathered that will shed some light upon the thingsthat we have already seen. "

They repassed through the other rooms; with his hand upon the frame ofthe door leading to the show room, Ashton-Kirk paused. 

"Better brace yourself for rather a shocking sight, " said he to hisfriend. 

"Go on, " said Pendleton, quietly. 

CHAPTER IV

STILLMAN'S THEORY

There were four good-sized windows in the show room, all overlookingthe street. It was a large, square place, and, as Miss Vale had said, literally stuffed with odd carvings, pottery of a most freakish sort, and weird bric-a-brac. Two large modern safes stood at one side, behind a long show case spread with ancient coins. At the end of thiscase was a carpeted space, railed in and furnished with a greatflat-topped desk. Upon the floor at the foot of the desk, and withthree separate streams of blood creeping away from it, lay thehuddled, ghastly figure of a man. 

Pendleton, though he had been warned, felt his breath catch and hisskin grow cold and damp. 

"Heavens!" said he, under his breath. "It's the man whose picture wesaw inside there on the wall. "

Even the shock of death could not, so it seemed, drive the sneer fromthe thick lips; mockery was frozen in the dead eyes. 

"What a beast he must have been, " went on Pendleton. "Like a satyr. Idon't think I ever saw just that type of face before. "

Ashton-Kirk was bending over the body; suddenly he raised himself. 

"There is a heavy bruise on the forehead, " said he. "He was felledfirst; then bayoneted. "

"Bayoneted!" Pendleton peered at the body. 

"There it is, sticking from his chest. " Ashton-Kirk drew aside thebreast of the dead man's coat and his companion caught sight of abronze hilt. The broad, sword-like blade had been driven completelyhome. 

"If we attempted to move the body, " said the investigator, "I shouldnot be surprised if we found it pinned to the floor. It took brawn togive that stroke; the man who dealt it made sure of the job. "

With soft, quick steps he crossed the room. The doors of the safeswere locked. 

"If the purpose was robbery, " said Ashton-Kirk, "the criminalevidently knew where to look for the most portable and valuablearticles. There seems to be no indication of anything having beentampered--" He stopped short, his eyes upon a huge vellum covered tomewhich lay open upon the floor. He whistled softly between his teeth. "General Wayne once more!" he said. 

The volume, as far as Pendleton could see, was a sort of scrap book inwhich had been fastened a great number of prints. Upon the two pagesthat they could see, six prints had been affixed by the corners. Ofthese, four had been torn out and lay upon the floor. 

"Gambetta and John Bright have been spared, " said Ashton-Kirk, pointing at the book, "but, " and he gathered up the fragments of themishandled prints, "upon Mad Anthony they laid violent hands fourseparate times. "

Pendleton wrinkled his brow. 

"Now what the deuce can it mean, " he asked, vexedly. "Not only whatdid the fellow mean who did this, but what did _he_ mean, " pointing atthe dead man, "by having so many portraits of General Wayne?"

"I think something might be found to point the way if we could onlylook for it, " said Ashton-Kirk, his face alight with eagerness. "Butwe'll have to await the coroner's people. "

"When will they come?"

The investigator shrugged his shoulders. 

"Probably not for hours, " he answered. "However, as the coronerhimself appears to be new in the office, he may be more anxious to gethis work over with than the usual official. In the mean time we'dbetter go down and have a talk with Osborne. If I remain here I'llsuccumb to temptation, go rummaging about and so get myself intotrouble. "

He turned the knob of the door with the ground glass panel; but itwas fast. They passed into the store room, and so out into the hall. 

"Any signs of the people from the coroner's office?" asked Ashton-Kirkof the policeman who stood there. 

"Someone just drove up a minute ago, " answered the man. "I hear himdown there talking to Osborne now. "

Ashton-Kirk was about to go down when there came a tramping on thestairs. The big figure of the headquarters detective was first; afterhim came a nervous, important looking young man and a stolid-faced oldone. 

With a large gesture Osborne laid his hand upon Ashton-Kirk'sshoulder. 

"Mr. Stillman, " said he to the nervous looking young man, "this is Mr. Ashton-Kirk. I guess you've heard of him. "

The important manner of the young coroner visibly increased as he heldout his hand. 

"I have heard of you frequently, sir, " he stated, firmly, "and I amquite delighted to meet you. More especially, sir, at a time likethis. "

"A very nasty looking affair, " returned the investigator. "Osborne hasbeen good enough to let me glance about, " in explanation. 

"I trust, " said Stillman, "that you have disturbed nothing. "

"Except for gathering up a few scattered pictures in the bedroom, wehave done nothing but look, " assured Ashton-Kirk. 

"I find that the exact conditions must remain if we are to secure evena fairly good idea of the crime's environments, " stated Stillman, nervously. "It is a thing that I insist upon from the police in everyinstance. "

"Sure, sure, " said Osborne. "Headquarters does its best never to maketrouble for you, Mr. Stillman. "

The nervous young coroner seemed to be relieved to hear this. He wavedhis hand in a gesture that might have meant anything and turned to thestolid looking, elderly man who accompanied them. They conversed for afew moments; the stolid man seemed to be explaining somethingcarefully, to which Stillman listened with the utmost attention. Osborne bent his head toward Ashton-Kirk. 

"The old party is a left-over in the coroner's office, of many years'standing, " said the detective. "He knows the ropes and puts the newlyelected ones on to the points of the game. "

Stillman finally turned; there was an added importance in his manner, and his nervousness had also increased. 

"Mr. Osborne, " said he, "please let us have what facts the police havegathered. "

"That won't take long, " said Osborne. "Just before daylight--threeo'clock, I think she said--the woman whom Hume employed to scrub thepassage-way and stairs got here. She has almost a dozen such jobs inthe neighborhood, and as she must have them all done before businessbegins, she's compelled to get at it early. She has a key to thestreet door; so she let herself in, came up these stairs and startedfor the far end of the hall, where there is a water tap. She didn'tnotice anything unusual until she returned with her pail filled; thenshe saw this door, " pointing to that of the store room, "standingopen. "

"I see, " said Mr. Stillman; and he gazed very hard at the door. 

"Hume, according to the scrub-woman's story, " resumed the big man, "was a queer kind of a chap. You didn't always know just how to takehim. He's lapped up a good bit of booze first and last and sometimeshe's come home pretty well settled. So when the woman sees the dooropen, this is the first thing that enters her mind. But to make sure, she goes into the room and calls him by name. The room's dark andthere's just a touch of daylight coming in through the open doorleading into the front room. So as there was no answer, she takes apeep in there and sees him on the floor. "

"And is that all she can tell?"

"Yes; except that she bolted down the stairs in a hurry, met Paulsonhere, " with a nod to the policeman, who had now discarded his cigar, "and told him what she had seen. "

"What is her name and address?"

Osborne consulted a note book. 

"Mrs. Dwyer, 71 Cormant Street, " read he. 

"Please make a note of that, " said Stillman to his clerk. "And sendfor her later in the day. " Then turning once more to Osborne, hecontinued. "Before doing anything else we will endeavor to find outhow the criminal gained an entrance. "

"That's the way with these Johnnie Newcomers, " grumbled Osborne asStillman turned once more to his aide. "They want to do it all. Whydon't he go in, look at the body and leave the police business to thepolice. "

"Too much earnestness may have its drawbacks, " said Ashton-Kirk, "butit is to be preferred to the perfunctory methods of the accustomedofficial, for all. "

"From your angle, maybe so, " said Osborne with a frown; "but not fromours. "

Stillman began rubbing his palms together with what was intended to bebusiness-like briskness; he stepped up and down the dark hall, peeringright and left. But for all his assumption of confidence, hisnervousness was very apparent. 

"You say, " said he to Osborne, "that the scrubwoman unlocked thestreet door. Very good. That shows that _it_ was fast at all events. Now what other means are there of entering the building?"

"None, except by the fire-escapes and windows. But the windows on thisfloor are all secured except for those at the front. "

"Except for those at the front. " The young coroner paused in his handrubbing. "Would it not have been possible for the person or personswho did this murder to enter by one of those?"

"It would have been possible, " returned the big headquarters man, "butno sane person would do it. They'd have to swarm up the face of thebuilding in full view of anyone that might be passing at the time. "

"Exactly, " said Stillman, stiffening under what he was half inclinedto consider a rebuff. "Well, that eliminates _that_ possibility. Nowto the next one. Who occupied the building besides the murdered man?"

"A man named Berg keeps a delicatessen store on the first floor. Hisplace in no way communicates with the rest of the building. The thirdand fourth floors are used for storage purposes by a furrier. Exceptin the spring and fall, so Mrs. Dwyer tells me, he seldom visits thebuilding. "

"Is there any way of getting in from the top of the house--the roof?"asked the coroner. 

A look of something like respect came into Osborne's face. Clearly thequestion was one which he considered worth while. 

"There is a scuttle, " he replied. "The bolt is rusted and broken; ithas probably not been fastened for months, perhaps years. "

"Now we are beginning to come at something, " cried Stillman, wellpleased. "In all probability the assassin entered by way of thescuttle. " He turned as though for the approval of the stolid-facedman. "Eh, Curran? What do you think of that?"

"It looks very like it, Mr. Stillman. "

"At all events, " spoke the coroner, "we will now examine the rooms. "

He advanced and tried the door of the show room. 

"Ah, locked!" said he. He turned and entered the store room, theothers following. The gas was still burning; the coroner stuck a pairof big-lensed eyeglasses upon his rather high nose and gazed about himintently. 

"There seems to be nothing of an informing nature here, " said he, after a time. "Where is the body?"

Osborne led the way into the front room. After a glance at theghastly, huddled figure upon the carpet near the desk, the coronertook a careful survey of the apartment. 

"Did Mr. Hume employ any person to assist him?" he asked. 

"The scrub-woman told me that there was a young man here always whenshe came during the business day for her wages. A sort of clerk, shethought. "

"He will be able to tell us if anything has been disturbed, no doubt, "remarked Stillman. 

Then he examined the body minutely. In the pockets were found a walletcontaining a large sum of money, a massive, old-fashioned gold watchwith a chain running from pocket to pocket of the waist-coat. Upon thelittle finger of Hume's left hand was a magnificent diamond. 

"Worth two thousand if it's worth a cent, " appraised Osborne. 

"If the criminal had meant robbery these things would unquestionablyhave been taken, " commented the young coroner. "Eh, Curran?"

"That is a very safe rule to go by, Mr. Stillman, " replied hisassistant, with the utmost stolidity. 

Through his big lenses the coroner gazed curiously at the bronze haftprotruding from the dead man's chest. 

"A bayonet, " said he. "Not a common weapon in a crime like this. Infact, I should say it was rather in the nature of an innovation. "

"It probably belonged in Hume's stock, " suggested Osborne. "Thereseems to be about everything here. "

But Stillman shook his head. 

"We have already about concluded that the intention of the criminalwas not robbery, " stated he. "And now, if we make up our minds thatthe bayonet belonged to Hume--that the assassin, in point of fact, came here without a weapon--it must be that he did not intend murdereither. "

"Maybe he didn't, " ventured Osborne. "There might have been a suddenquarrel. The person who struck that blow may have grabbed up the firstcompetent looking thing that came to his hand. "

Stillman turned to Ashton-Kirk. 

"That sounds reasonable enough, eh?"

"Very much so, " replied Ashton-Kirk. 

"A bayonet is a most unusual weapon, " said the coroner thoughtfully, readjusting his glasses. "And I think it would be a most awkward thingto carry around with one. Therefore, it would be a most unlikelychoice for an intending assassin. I am of the opinion, " nervously, "that we may safely say that it was a sudden quarrel which ended inthis, " and he gestured with both hands toward the body. 

The safe doors were tried and found locked; a cash register was openedand found to contain what had been apparently the receipts of the daybefore. An examination of the cabinets and cases disclosed hundredsof ancient coins and other articles the value of which must have beenheavy. But their orderly array had not been disturbed. A long curtainof faded green material hung from the wall at one side, as though toscreen something from the sunlight and dust. 

"What have we here?" said the coroner. 

He stepped across the store and whisked the curtain aside. A largegilt frame was disclosed; and from it hung the slashed remains of acanvas. 

"Hello!" exclaimed Osborne, with interest. "This begins to look likeone of the old affairs that they say Hume's been mixed up in. Somebody's tried to cut that picture from the frame. "

They examined it carefully. A keen knife had been run around the topand both sides, close to the frame. The painting hung down, its grayback displayed forlornly. 

Stillman regarded it with great satisfaction. 

"Here, " said he, "we at least have a possible motive. "

Ashton-Kirk took a twisted walking stick from a rack, and with the endof it, raised the slashed canvas so that its subject could be seen. Itwas a heroic equestrian figure of an officer of the AmericanRevolution. His sword was drawn; his face shone with the light ofbattle. 

Pendleton was just about to cry out "General Wayne, " when the stickfell from his friend's hand, the canvas dropping to its formerposition. While the others were trying to get it into place once more, Ashton-Kirk whispered to Pendleton:

"Say nothing. This is their turn; let them work in their own way. Iwill begin where they have finished. "

After a little time spent in a gratified inspection of the painting, Stillman said:

"But, gentlemen, let us have a look at the other rooms. There may besomething more. "

They re-passed through the store room and into the living room. Nothing here took the coroner's attention, and they entered thebedroom. Both these last had doors leading into the hall; upon theirbeing tried they were found to be locked. 

The smashed pictures upon the bedroom floor at once took the eye ofStillman. He regarded the broken places in the plaster and prodded theslivers of wood and glass with the toe of his shoe with muchcomplacency. 

"This completes the story, " declared he. "It is now plain from end toend. The criminal entered the building from the roof, made his waydown stairs and gained admittance through the door which the scrubwoman found unlocked. His purpose was to steal the painting in thefront room. 

"In a struggle with Hume, who unexpectedly came upon him, theintruder killed him. Not knowing the exact location of the picture hewanted, he first looked for it here. The light probably being bad hetore down every picture he could reach in order to get a better viewof it. When, at last, he had found the desired work, he set aboutcutting it from its frame. But, before he had finished, somethingalarmed him, and he fled without the prize. "

The stolid man listened to this with marked approval. Even Osbornereluctantly whispered to Pendleton:

"He's doped it out. I didn't think it was in him. "

After a little more, the coroner said to his clerk:

"I think that is about all. Curran, see to it that the post-mortem isnot delayed. Put a couple of our men on the case, have them makeextensive inquiries in the neighborhood. Any persons who appear topossess information may be brought to my office at three o'clock. Especially I desire to see this Mrs. Dwyer, Berg, who keeps the storeon the ground floor and the young man who was employed by Hume. I'llempanel a jury later. " He took off his eye-glasses, placed them in acase and, in turn, carefully slipped this into his pocket. "At threeo'clock, " he repeated. 

"If I should not be intruding, " said Ashton-Kirk, "I should like tobe present. "

Stillman smiled with the air of a man triumphant, but who stilldesired to show charity. 

"I shall be pleased to see you, sir, " he said, "then or at any othertime. "

CHAPTER V

STILLMAN ASKS QUESTIONS

It wanted a few minutes of three o'clock when Ashton-Kirk, stillaccompanied by the curious Pendleton, walked into the outer room ofthe coroner's suite. 

"Mr. Stillman will be here at any moment now, " said Curran. Thenlowering his voice and making a short little gesture from the elbow, he added: "These people are the ones he wanted to see. "

As he and Pendleton sat down, Ashton-Kirk looked at the personsreferred to. The first was a thin, wiry little woman, unmistakablyIrish, cleanly dressed and with sharp, inquisitive eyes. Engaged in alow-pitched conversation with her was a thick-necked German, heavy ofpaunch and with a fat, red face. The third was a spectacled young Jew, poring over a huge volume which he seemed to have brought with him. Hehad a tremendous head of curling black hair; his clothing was shabby. There was a rapt expression upon his face; plainly nothing existed forhim at that moment outside the pages of his book. 

After a brief space, the coroner came in, "Ah, how do you do, gentlemen, " greeted he. He was good-natured andstrove to be easy; but his natural nervousness clung to him. "I amglad to see you. "

He looked at Curran and nodded at the three inquiringly. 

"Yes, sir, " replied the clerk; "these are the parties. "

"Then we will get down to business. " He opened a door and entered aninner room. "Will you come in?" he asked of Ashton-Kirk and Pendleton. 

They followed him at once; and Curran, addressing the littleIrishwoman, said:

"Now, Mrs. Dwyer, this way, please. "

She arose briskly and also entered the inner room. Stillman seatedhimself at a desk and carefully perched his glasses upon his nose. 

"I perhaps take more trouble than is customary in these cases, " hesaid to Ashton-Kirk. "It is usual to hear statements, I believe, onlywhen they are proffered as testimony at the inquest. But it seems tome that the office should be carried on in a more thorough way. Preparation, I think, is necessary to get at the facts. "

Then he faced the woman who had taken a chair beside the desk. 

"Your full name, please, " said he. 

"Honora Dwyer. I'm a widow with four children; I live at 71 CormantStreet, an' me husban' has been dead these three years, " declared she, in a breath. 

Stillman smiled. 

"You don't believe in keeping anything back, Mrs. Dwyer, I can seethat, " said he. "And a very good trait it is. " He leaned back in hisswivel chair and looked at her through the glasses. "You are theperson who discovered the body of Mr. Hume, are you not?"

"Yes, sir, I were, " replied Mrs. Dwyer; "and God spare me such anothersight. "

"Tell us about it, " said the coroner. 

"I work as scrub woman for a good many in Christie Place an' theimmejeat neighborhood, " said Mrs. Dwyer, genteelly. "But I always getsto Mr. Hume's first. "

"You are quite sure you found the street door locked?"

"Yes, sir. "

"And you noticed nothing unusual about the place?"

"Only the open door to the store room, sir. Mr. Hume was alwaysparticular about closing up, sir. For a man who was in the habit oftaking a sup of drink, sir, I'll say he was _very_ particular. "

"When you noticed the door being open you went in at once, I suppose?"

"No, sir; I did not. After I got me water, I set down on the top stepto get me breath. When I saw the door stan'nin' open, thinks I tomeself, thinks I; 'Mr. Hume is up early this mornin'. ' But everythingwas quiet as the grave, " in a hushed dramatic tone. "Sorra the sounddid I hear. So I gets up and goes in. And in the front room I sees himlyin'. Mr. Hume was never a handsome man, sir; and he'd gained nothingin looks by the end he'd met with. God save us, how I ever got outinto the street, I'll never know. "

She rocked to and fro and fanned herself with her apron. 

"It must have been a very severe shock, Mrs. Dwyer, " agreed thecoroner. "Now, " after a pause, "do you know anything--however slight, mind you--that would seem to point to who did this thing?"

Mrs. Dwyer shook her head. 

"Me acquaintance with Mr. Hume was a business one only, sir, " shesaid. "I never set foot into his place further than the hall except onthe days when I went to get me pay--and this morning, save us fromharm!"

"You know nothing of his friends then--of his habits?"

"There is the Jew boy, outside there, that worked for him. He's anice, good mannered little felly, and is the only person I ever seein the office when I went there, barrin' the boss himself. As for Mr. Hume's habits, I can say only what everybody knows. He were drunk whenhe engaged me, and he were drunk the last time I seen him alive. "

"That will be all, Mrs. Dwyer, " said Stillman. "Thank you. Curran, I'll see the young man next. "

As Curran and Mrs. Dwyer went out the young coroner turned to his twovisitors. 

"I am still assured that we have the motive for the crime in theattempt to steal the painting, " he said. "But it will do no harm toget all the light we can upon every side of the matter. The smallestclue, " importantly, "may prove of the utmost value at the inquest. "

Ashton-Kirk smilingly nodded his entire assent to this. Then Curranshowed in the clerk. 

The young man still carried the thick volume and, when he sat down, laid it upon a corner of Stillman's desk. Its back was turned towardAshton-Kirk and he noted that it was a work on anatomy such asfirst-year medical students use. 

"What is your name, please?" asked the coroner. 

"Isidore Brolatsky, " replied the young man. 

"You are, or were, employed by Mr. Hume?"

"As a clerk, yes, sir. I've been with him for some years. " Brolatskyspoke with scarcely a trace of accent. "He didn't pay much, but thenthere wasn't much to do, and I had plenty of time to study. "

"Ah, " said Stillman, encouragingly. "To study, eh?"

"Yes. I've taken up medicine. There's a college up town that has nightclasses. I have been attending the lectures there and reading duringthe day. There's a big chance for physicians who can speak Yiddish. Not only to make money, but to do good. "

"I see. " The coroner regarded him reflectively for a moment. "Now, Mr. Brolatsky, having worked for Hume for some years, you must have pickedup some details as to his business and himself. Suppose you tell usall you know about both. "

The dark face of Brolatsky became thoughtful. 

"Mr. Hume was a hard man to get along with, " he said. "He seemed readyto quarrel at any time with anybody. I don't recall a customer evercoming into the store that he didn't have some kind of trouble withbefore they went out. But he had a great knowledge of the things hedealt in. People came from far and near to get his opinion on items intheir collections. His fees, " with appreciation, "were large. 

"But there is one thing that I noticed about him. While he knew allabout objects of art, he did not seem to care for them. He had no lovefor his trade, no sympathy, I may say, for the collectors who came tohim. I wouldn't be going far from the truth if I said that he thoughtthem all fools for paying their money for such things. And I _know_that he mocked them. "

"Humph!" Stillman looked at Ashton-Kirk, with surprise upon his face. "That seems odd. Men usually go into Hume's business through love ofit. " He turned once more to Brolatsky. "And he had no hobby of hisown, no collection that he fancied more than another?"

Brolatsky nodded amusedly. 

"Yes, " he replied. "I was just coming to that. He _did_ have acollection that he called his own. And he never sold an item from itas long as I was with him. Indeed, I think if anybody had offered tobuy, he would have come to blows with him. "

Ashton-Kirk bent forward. For the first time since entering the room, he spoke. 

"And what was the nature of that collection?" he inquired eagerly. 

"Portraits, " answered Isidore Brolatsky. "Prints, lithographs, mezzo-tints, engravings, paintings, it made no difference. And all ofthe same person. He had hundreds, I guess, and every one of them wasof General Wayne. "

Ashton-Kirk leaned back in his chair with a faint breath of triumph. 

"When a portrait of General Wayne was offered him, " continuedBrolatsky, "he never haggled over it. He paid the price asked andseemed quite delighted to get it. It was a standing joke in the tradethat if you wanted to get even with Mr. Hume for driving a hardbargain with you, all you had to do was to offer him a portrait ofGeneral Wayne. I never saw him refuse one. Even if he had dozens ofduplicates, which often happened; still he'd buy. "

A look of great acuteness had settled upon the face of the youngcoroner. 

"There is a painting at one side of the show room, " said he. "It isunder a large green curtain. Is that of General Wayne?"

"It is, " replied the clerk. "And I believe that he valued it more thananything else that he owned. "

Stillman laughed with pleasure. 

"Now, " said he to his visitors, "we are getting at it, indeed. Someoneprobably knew of the value he attached to this painting and planned tosteal it, perhaps for a ransom. Hume has been suspected of doing thissort of thing himself before now. He was supposed to have engagedsomeone to do the actual work, I believe, as in the case of theWhistler portrait of the Duchess of Winterton. Suppose this someone, "and Stillman rapped his knuckles upon the edge of the desk excitedly, "took the notion to go into the picture stealing business of his ownaccount. Hume himself with his much prized portrait of General Waynewas ready at hand--and so, " with a sweeping gesture, "what hashappened, has happened. "

Pendleton, much impressed, looked at Ashton-Kirk. But the latter'sthoughts seemed far away; his eyes were fixed upon the wall; hisexpression was of delighted anticipation. 

Stillman also noticed this non-attention to his reasoning, and alittle wrinkle of discontent appeared between his brows. So he turnedhis gaze upon Brolatsky and spoke rather sharply. 

"Now, as to Mr. Hume's intimates? What do you know of them?"

Isidore Brolatsky shifted in his chair; his long fingers began to drumupon his knees. 

"I have known of the matter of the Whistler portrait, " said he, "but Inever knew anything more about it than what I read in the newspapers. It happened before my time. "

"I'm not accusing you, " said Stillman. "I'm asking you about Hume'sfriends. "

The clerk considered. 

"There was no one that I ever saw or heard of that you could call hisfriend, exactly, " said he at length. "He made game of people too muchto have any I guess. "

"Had he no associates--no one with whom he spent his time?"

Brolatsky shook his head. 

"Perhaps so; but then I was only in Christie Place during businesshours. I have heard that he frequently went out at night; but where Ido not know. "

"Was there no one who came to visit him while you were there duringthe day. No one whom he spoke of in an intimate way?"

Again the clerk shook his head. Stillman began to appear nonplussed. He looked at the other, pondering and frowning through his glasses. 

"Who came most frequently to the store?" he inquired finally. 

"Why, I think Antonio Spatola, " said Brolatsky. 

"Was he a customer?"

The clerk smiled. 

"Oh, no. He's a street musician. You may have seen him often about thecity. He plays the violin and carries some trained cockatoos upon aperch. "

"What was the nature of his business at Hume's?"

"If there was anything that Mr. Hume liked better than strong drink, "said the clerk, "it was music. Antonio Spatola would come and play tohim for hours at a time. "

"A lover of music who could stand the playing of a street musician forhours!" cried Stillman. "That's astonishing. "

"But, " protested Brolatsky, "Spatola is a splendid musician. He'sstudied his instrument under the greatest masters in Paris, Rome andother European cities. He has played in the finest orchestras. But henever could keep a position because of his temper. He's told mehimself that when aroused he doesn't know what he is doing. "

"I understand, " said the coroner. "What sort of relations existedbetween Hume and Spatola outside the music? Were they friendly?"

"No, sir. I might say just the reverse. For hours, sometimes, Mr. Humewould lie back in his chair with his eyes closed listening to theviolin. Then, perhaps, he'd get up suddenly, throw Antonio a dollar orso and tell him to get out. Or maybe he'd begin to jeer at him. Antonio had an ambition to become a concert violinist. Ole Bull andKubelik had made great successes, he said; and so, why not he?

"This was usually the point Mr. Hume would take up in mocking him. He'd call him a curbstone fiddler, and say that he ought to be playingat barn dances and Italian christenings instead of aspiring to theplatform. Spatola would get frantic with rage, and fairly scream hisresentment at these times. 

"Often Mr. Hume would have him bring his trained cockatoos. And whilehe was making them go through their tricks, Mr. Hume would call him amountebank, a side show fakir and other things, and tell him that heought to stick to that as a business, for he could make a living atit, where he would starve as a violinist. I've often seen Antonio goout trembling and white at the lips with rage. Several times he'stried to injure Mr. Hume--once he took out a knife. "

"Hah!" said the coroner. 

"That was the time Mr. Hume called him 'Mad Anthony. ' I also rememberthat Mr. Hume pulled aside the curtain and showed him the largepainting of General Wayne, laughing and telling him that that wasanother Mad Anthony. He was so successful that day in arousingSpatola, that always after that, when he was drunk, he'd call theItalian 'Mad Anthony' and it never failed to infuriate him. 

"Do you know where this man Spatola lives?"

"In Christie Place, sir; just about half a dozen doors from the store. I believe he rents a garret there, or something. "

Stillman seemed struck by this. 

"In view of the fact that the building was entered by way of thescuttle, " said he to Ashton-Kirk, "I consider that a most interestingpiece of information. "

"It may indeed prove so, " was the non-committal reply. 

Once more the discontented crease showed itself upon the coroner'sforehead; and again as he turned to Brolatsky, his voice rose sharply. 

"Next to Antonio Spatola, who came most to Hume's place while you werethere?"

"The next most frequent caller, " returned the clerk, "was Mr. AllanMorris. "

Ashton-Kirk, glancing at Pendleton, saw him start. 

"And who, " queried the coroner, "is Mr. Allan Morris?"

"At first I took him to be a customer, " replied Brolatsky. "Andperhaps he was. He talked a great deal at times about engraved gemsand would look at lists and works upon the subject. But somehow I gotthe notion that that was not just what he came for. "

"What caused you to think that?" asked the coroner. 

"His manner, partly, and then the fact that there seemed somethingbetween Mr. Hume and him--something that I never understood. Mr. Morris was another one that the boss used to make game of. Not somuch as he would Spatola, but still a good bit. Mr. Morris always tookit with a show of good temper; but underneath I could see that he toowas sometimes furious. "

"About what did Hume deride _him_?"

"That's what I never could quite make out. It always seemed as thoughit was something that Mr. Morris wanted. At first I got the notionthat it was something that he wanted to buy and which Mr. Hume refusedto sell; but later I changed my mind. There seemed to be more to itthan appeared on the top. Both were very secretive about it. "

"I understand. " Stillman's face wore a puzzled expression; it was asthough this latter development worried him. But in a few moments hewent on: "Do you know where this man Morris is to be found?"

"Oh, yes. He's quite well known. Has an office in the Blake Building, and is employed just now, so I've heard, by the Navy Department. "

"You have visited Christie Place to-day?"

"Yes, sir. "

"Did the police have you look about?"

"Yes, sir. And so far as I can see, nothing has been taken. "

"The weapon that Hume was killed with, now. Do you know anythingabout it--did it belong to the store?"

"The bayonet? No, sir. "

"Are you sure of that?" earnestly. 

"Positive. It was my duty to keep a complete list of everything we hadin stock. We had other sorts of arms, but no such thing as a bayonet. "

There were a few more questions, but as they drew out nothing ofinterest, Stillman signified to Brolatsky that the interview was at anend. 

"Now, you will go with Mr. Curran to police headquarters on the nextfloor, " said he, "and tell them what you have told me about thisAntonio Spatola. "

Then he opened the door and stepped out. 

"Curran, " they heard him say, importantly. 

"I want you to--" then the door closed, cutting the sentence short. 

Pendleton gazed fixedly at Ashton-Kirk. 

"I say, " said he, "I'm not up in this sort of thing at all. I've beenputting two and two together, and it's led me into a deuce of astate. "

Ashton-Kirk looked at him inquiringly; there was expectancy in theinvestigator's eyes, but he said nothing. 

"Perhaps you'll think that I'm all kinds of a fool, " continuedPendleton, "and maybe I am. But here are the things that I'm trying tomarshall in order. I'll take them just as they happened. " He held upone hand and with the other began to check off the counts upon hisfingers. "Yesterday you have a visit--a visit of a professionalnature--from Edyth Vale. Last night she strangely disappears for atime. At a most unconventional hour this morning I find you at herdoor. Then I learn that you are on your way to look into the detailsof a murder that you had just heard of--somehow. Now I hear that AllanMorris, Edyth's fiancé, has been, in rather an odd way, upon familiarterms with the murdered man. "

He paused as he checked this last count, still regarding his friendfixedly. 

"I don't claim, " he went on, after a moment, "that these things haveanything to do with each other. But, somehow, they've got together inmy mind, and I can't--"

Here the door re-opened and Stillman entered, followed by the bigGerman. 

"Just take a chair, Mr. Berg, " said the coroner, seating himself atthe desk and affixing his eyeglasses. 

The German lowered his form into the chair indicated and folded hisfat hands across his monstrous paunch. 

"Your name in full--is what?" asked Stillman with formality. 

"Franz Berg. I sell me delicatessen at 478 Christie Place. I haf beenthere for fifteen years. "

"You were acquainted with the murdered man?"

The delicatessen dealer unfolded his hands and waved themsignificantly. 

"I was aguainted with him--yes. But I was not friendly with him--no. He is dead, ain't it? Und it's not right to say someding about thedead. But he was no friend of mine. "

"I understand. But tell me, Mr. Berg, how late do you keep your placeopen?"

"In the summertime--seven o'clock. But after dose theaters open, Istays me on the chob till twelve, or later somedimes. There isone--two--three what you call burlesque places, right by me; and nosooner do they close up, than right away those actor peoples come tobuy. I do a goot business, so I keep open. "

"Then you were there until midnight last night?"

"More later than that yet. "

"Was there any movement of any sort about Hume's place? Did you see orhear anything?"

The great red face of Berg took on a solemn look. 

"It is maybe not ride that I should say somedings, " complained he. "But if the law will not excuse me, I will say it, if it makes somemore trouble or not. "

"It is vitally necessary, " stated the young coroner, firmly, "that youtell me everything you know about this matter. "

"Well, " said the delicatessen dealer, reluctantly, "last night as Istood by my window looking oudside on the street, I see me thatItalian feller go by und turn in at the side door; a second lader Ihear him go up the steps to Hume's place. "

"What Italian fellow do you refer to?"

"He lifs close by me, a few doors away. His name is Spatola, und heplays the violin the gurb-stones beside. "

"What time was it that you saw him?"

"Maybe elefen o'clock. I am not sure. But it was just a little whilebefore I got me the rush of customers from the theaters. "

"Did you notice his manner? Was there anything unusual in his looks?"

"I had me only a glimbs of him. He looked about the same as effer. Hewas in a hurry, for it rained a liddle; und under his coat yet hecarried his fiddle. "

"If it was under his coat, how do you know it was his fiddle?"

The German scratched his head in a reflective way. 

"I don't know it, " said he at last. "But he somedimes takes hisinstrument inside there, und I just get the notion that it was so. Yes?"

"When did he come out?"

The man shook his head. 

"I don'd know, " he said. 

"Do you mean that you saw no one come out?"

"No; I _did_ see someone come out. But first I see me someone else goin. "

"Ah! And who was that?"

"I don't know his name; but I had seen him often before. He is a kindof svell feller. He had a cane und plendy of style. "

"And later you saw someone come out. Now, your use of the word'someone' leads me to think that you do not know whether it wasSpatola or the stranger. "

"I don'd, " said Berg. "I was busy then. I just heard me someone rushdown the stairs, making plendy noise, und I heard that drunken Humelift up a window, stick out his head and call some names after him. Mycustomers laugh und think it's a joke; but I am ashamed such adisgracefulness to have around my business yet. "

"If Hume called after the person who left, " said Stillman, acutely, toAshton-Kirk, "that eliminates one of the callers. It proves that Humewas still alive after the man had gone. "

"That is undoubtedly a fact, " replied the investigator. 

Stillman turned upon Berg with dignity. 

"Surely you must have noticed the man if all that uproar attended hisexit. You must have detected enough to mark a difference between anexceptionally well-dressed man and an Italian street musician. "

Berg shook his big head. 

"It was aboud twelve o'clock in the night-dime, und my customersbesides I had to pay some attention to, " stated he. 

The coroner was baffled by the man's positiveness. 

"Well, " said he, resignedly. "What else did you see?"

Berg shook his head once more. 

"Nothing else. Putty soon I closed up and went home. " Then a flash ofrecollection came into his dull face. "As I went down the street I sawsome lights in Hume's windows. One of them windows was open--maybe theone he sticked his head out of to call the man names--und I could hearhim laughing like he used to do when he was trying to make a jackassof some peoples. "

The coroner pondered. At length he said:

"This object that Spatola carried under his coat, now. Could it havebeen a bayonet?"

"No, no, " said Berg with conviction. "It vos too big. It vos bigger asa half dozen bayonets already. "

This seemed the limit of Berg's knowledge of the night's happenings;a few more questions and then Stillman dismissed him. The door hadhardly closed when the telephone rang. After a few words, the coronerhung up the receiver and turned to his visitors. 

"I think, " said he, with a smile of satisfaction, "that I've made thepolice department sit up a little. They talked to all three of thesepeople before I had them, and didn't seem to get enough to make abeginning. But just now, " and the smile grew wider, "I've heard thatOsborne is on his way to arrest Antonio Spatola. "

CHAPTER VI

ASHTON-KIRK LOOKS ABOUT

Berg was standing in the corridor waiting for the elevator whenAshton-Kirk and Pendleton came out. The big German mopped his facewith a handkerchief, and said apologetically:

"A man can only tell what he knows, ain't it?"

Ashton-Kirk looked at him questioningly, but said nothing. 

"To begin dot guess-work business when you are talking to the lawalready, it is dangerous, " stated Berg in an explanatory tone. 

"Well, " said Ashton-Kirk, "sometimes a good, pointed guess is of greatservice, Mr. Berg. And, " with a laugh, "as I am not the law and notthe least dangerous, suppose you make the one that I can see youturning over in your mind. "

"Oh, " said Berg, "you are not the coroner's office in?"

"No; merely interested in this case, that's all. "

The delicatessen dealer looked relieved. 

"I don't want to get people in trouble, " said he, guardedly. "But thisis what I guess. Late every night, about the time I shut up my place, there is a cab comes und by the curbstone stands across the street. Iwill not say what is der place it stands in front of; that is not mybusiness. "

"McCausland's gambling house, perhaps, " suggested Ashton-Kirk. 

The big German looked more relieved than ever. 

"Ach, so you know about dot place, eh? All ride. Now I can speak outand not be afraid to do some harm to nobody. " He lowered his voicestill further. "Dot cab came last night as I was locking my door up, und stands the curbstone by in front of McCausland's, waiting for achob. Maybe when I goes away home der driver he sees what happened atHume's afterwards, eh?"

"Excellent!" said Ashton-Kirk, his eyes alight. "Thanks for the hint, Mr. Berg. "

The delicatessen dealer lumbered into the elevator which had stopped;Pendleton was about to follow, but his friend detained him, and thecar dropped downward without them. 

"That cab, " said Ashton-Kirk, "is sure to be a night-hawk; and morethan likely it is put up at Partridge's. Pardon me a moment. "

There was a telephone booth at one side of the corridor; the speakerwent in and closed the door. After a few moments he came out. 

"Just as I thought, " he said, well pleased. "Partridge knew the cabin a moment. The driver's name is Sams, and he lives at the place theycall the Beehive. " He looked at his watch. "It wants but a few minutesof four, " he added, "and a night-hawk cabby will be just aboutstirring. The Beehive is only three blocks away; suppose we go aroundand look him up. "

Pendleton agreed instantly; and after a brisk walk and a breathlessclimb, they found themselves on the fourth floor of a huge brickbuilding where they had been directed by a meek-looking woman in adust-cap. A long hall with a great many doors upon each side, alllooking alike, stretched away before them. 

"It's very plain that the only way to find Mr. Sams is to make anoise, " said Ashton-Kirk. And with that he stalked down the hall, hisheels clattering on the bare boards. "Hello, " he cried loudly. "Samsis wanted! Hello, Sams!"

A door opened, and a face covered with thick soap suds and surmountedby a tangle of sandy hair looked out. 

"Hello, " growled this person, huskily. "Who wants him?"

"Very glad to see you, Mr. Sams, " said Ashton-Kirk. "We have a smallmatter of business with you that will require a few moments of yourtime. May we come in?"

"Sure, " said Sams. 

They entered the room, which contained a bed, a trunk, a wash-stand, and a chair. 

"One of you can take the chair; the other can sit on the trunk, " saidthe hack driver, nodding toward these articles. Then he proceeded tostrop a razor at one of the windows. "Excuse me if I go on with thisreaping. I must go out and feed the horse, and then get breakfast. "

"You breakfast rather late, " commented Ashton-Kirk. 

"I'm lucky to get it at any time, in this business, " grumbled Sams. "Out all night, sleep all day, and get blamed little for it, at that. "

He posed before a small mirror stuck up beside the window and gave theblade an experimental sweep across his face. Then he turned and askedinquiringly:

"Did youse gents want anything particular?"

"We'd like to ask a question or two regarding what happened last nightin Christie Place. "

The cab driver's forehead corrugated; he closed his razor, laid itdown and shoved his' soapy face toward the speaker. 

"Say, " spoke he, roughly. "I drives people wherever they wants to go;but I don't ask no questions. "

"It's all right, Mr. Sams, " said Ashton-Kirk. "The affair that I'mlooking up happened across the street--at Hume's--second floor of478. "

"Oh!" Sams stared for a moment, then he took up his razor, turned hisback and went on with his shaving. But there was expectancy in hisattitude; and Ashton-Kirk smiled confidently. 

"While you were drawn up in Christie Place, waiting for a fare, " heasked, "did you hear or see anything at 478?"

"I saw a light on the second floor--something I never saw before atthat hour. And I saw the Dutchman that keeps the store underneathshutting up. And I heard somebody laughing upstairs, " as a secondthought. "I think that's what made me notice the light. "

"Nothing else?"

Sams shaved and considered. He wiped his razor at last, poured somewater in a bowl and doused his face. Then he took up a towel and beganapplying it briskly. 

The investigator, watching him closely, saw that he was not trying torecall anything. It was plain that the man was merely calculating thepossibilities of harm to himself and patrons if he told what he knew. 

"There has been a murder, " said Ashton-Kirk, quietly, thinking to joghim along. 

Sams threw the towel from him and sat down upon the bed. 

"A murder!" said he, his eyes and mouth wide open. "Well, what do youknow about that. " He sat looking from one to the other of them, dazedly, for a space; then he resumed: "Say, I thought there wassomething queer about that stunt of hers!"

"Tell us about it, " suggested Ashton-Kirk, crossing his legs andclasping one knee with his hands. 

The cabby considered once more. 

"There's lots of things that a guy like me sees that look off color, "he said, at length; "but we can't always pass any remarks about them. It would be bad for business, you see. But this murder thing's adifferent proposition, and here's where I tell it all. Last nightwhile I was waiting in front of McCausland's, I hears an automobileturn into the street. It was some time after I got there. I wouldn'thave paid much attention to it, but you see there's a fellow beentrying to get my work with a taxicab, and I thought it was him. "

"And it wasn't?"

"No, it was a private car--a Maillard, and there was a woman drivingit. "

The chair upon which Pendleton sat was an infirm one; it creakedsharply as he made a sudden movement. 

"She was going at a low speed, " proceeded Sams, "and as she passedHume's I noticed her look up at the windows. After she disappearedthere wasn't a sound for a while. You see, nobody hardly ever passesthrough Christie Place after one o'clock. Then I hears her comingback. This time she stopped the car, got out and went to the door thatleads into Hume's place. There she stopped a little, as though shedidn't know whether to go in or not. But at last she went in. "

Pendleton coughed huskily at this point; and his friend glancing athim saw that his face was white. 

"And up to that time, " said Ashton-Kirk, "are you sure that there wasno movement--no sound--in the front room at Hume's?"

"As far as I noticed, there wasn't. But a few minutes after I heardthe woman go in, I _did_ hear some sounds. "

The man stroked his shaven jaws in the deliberate manner of a personabout to precipitate a crisis. Pendleton leaned toward him, anxiously. 

"What sort of sounds?" he asked. 

"There were two, " replied the cab driver. "The first was a revolvershot; the second came right after, and was a kind of a scream--likethat of a parrot. "

"And what then?" asked Ashton-Kirk, easily. 

"There wasn't anything for a few minutes, anyway. But the revolvershot had kind of got my attention, so I was taking notice of thewindows. Then suddenly I caught sight of the woman. You see, thegas-light was near the window and she kind of leaned over and turnedit out. It was only for a time as long as that, " and the man snappedhis fingers. "But I saw her plain. Then I heard her coming down thestairs to the street--almost at a run. She banged the street door shutafter her, jumped into her car and went tearing away as if she wascrazy. I stayed fifteen minutes before I got a fare; but nothing elsehappened. "

Pendleton's hand closed hard on the edge of the chair he sat in. Therewas a moment's silence; then Ashton-Kirk asked:

"Just where was your cab standing at this time?"

"Right in front of McCausland's door. "

"And you were on the box?"

"Yes. "

The investigator put a piece of money in the man's hand as he andPendleton arose and prepared to go. 

"Say, " said Sam curiously, "I've been in bed all day and ain't heard aword of anything. Who's been done up?"

"Hume. Stabbed in the chest. "

"Shot, you mean. "

"No, I mean stabbed. With a bayonet. "

The man stared wonderingly. 

"G'way, " he said. 

They bid him good-day and tramped down the three long flights to thestreet. Pendleton was silent, and walked with his head held down. 

"We have more than an hour of good daylight left, " said his friend, asthey reached the street. "And as I must have a good unrestricted lookat Hume's apartments before everything is hopelessly changed about, suppose we go there now. We can get a taxi in the next street. "

"Just a moment, " said Pendleton. "Before we take another step in thematter, Kirk, I must ask a question. "

Ashton-Kirk put his hand upon his friend's shoulder. 

"Don't, " said he. "I know just what the question would be, and at thepresent time I can't answer it. At this moment, except for some fewtheories that I have yet to verify, I am as much puzzled as yourself. "

"But, " and there was a tremble in the speaker's voice, "you mustanswer me, old chap--and you must answer now. "

The catch in his voice, the expression upon the young man's facecaused Ashton-Kirk to grasp an astonishing fact. The hand that he hadlaid upon Pendleton's shoulder tightened as he answered:

"Yes, Edyth Vale is concerned. As a rule I do not speak of my clientsto others, but in view of what you have already heard and seen, itwould be a waste of words to deny it. But, see here, there are lots ofthings we don't know yet about this business. It may look verydifferent in a few hours. Come. "

Pendleton gazed with sober eyes into the speaker's face for a moment. Then he said:

"Let us get the cab; if you are to go over Hume's rooms before dark, you haven't any too much time. "

At the next corner they signaled a taxicab, and in a short time theywere set down in Christie Place. Paulson, the policeman, was standingguard. 

"How are you?" he greeted them affably. 

"Been here all day?" asked Ashton-Kirk. 

"Oh, no. Just come on. I'm the third shift since I saw you last. "

"Nobody has been permitted to go upstairs, I presume?"

"Only the coroner's man, who came for the body. And they touchednothing but the body. Our orders were strong on that. "

"Has anything been heard as the result of the post-mortem?"

"It showed that Hume was in bad shape from too much drink. Then he hada hard knock on the head, and the wound in his chest. "

"But there was no sign of a bullet wound?"

"No, " said Paulson, surprised. "Nothing like that. "

"Just a moment, " said the investigator to Pendleton. He crossed thestreet, walked along for a few paces, then paused at the curb andlooked back toward Hume's doorway. Then he returned with quick stepsand an alert look in his eyes. 

"Now we'll go upstairs, " he said. 

But before doing so he stopped and examined the lock of the streetdoor closely; then he mounted the stairs slowly, his glances seemingto take in everything. At the top he paused, his head bent, apparentlyin deep thought. Then he lifted it suddenly, and laughed exultantly. 

"That's it, " he said, "I'm quite sure that is it. "

"I wouldn't doubt your word for an instant, " said Pendleton, insomething like his old voice. "Whatever it is, I'm quite sure it is ifyou say so. "

The policeman on guard in the hall examined them carefully. 

"All right, " said he, after they had explained and he had verified itby calling to his mate at the street door. "Go right to work, gents. I'm here to see that nobody gets in from above by way of the scuttle, and I guess I won't be in the way. "

There were three gas branches at intervals along the length of the dimhall, each with a cluster of four jets. Ashton-Kirk lighted all threeof these and began making a careful examination of the passage. Alongtoward the rear was a stairway leading to the floor above. Next thiswas a small room in which there was a water tap. At the extreme end ofthe hall was a window with a green shade drawn to the bottom. 

Ashton-Kirk regarded this for a moment intently. Then he reached upand turned off the gas at the branch nearest the window. Daylightcould now be seen through the blind; the investigator pointed andsaid:

"This shows us something. About six inches of the bottom of the blindis of a decidedly lighter color than the remainder. This is caused byexposure to the light and indicates that this blind has seldom beendrawn in daylight as it is now. "

He drew back the blind and looked at the side nearest the window. Atthe top of the faded space was a heavy dark line. 

"I'll modify that last statement, " said he, with satisfaction. "I'llgo as far as to say, now, that the blind has never been drawn since itwas put up. This thick line marks the part that lay across the top ofthe roller, and the dust seems never to have been disturbed. "

The gas was lighted once more. 

"Hume did not draw that curtain, " said Ashton-Kirk, decidedly. "Hewas too careless a man, apparently, to think of such a thing. Theintruders, whoever they were, did it; they had a light, perhaps, anddid not want to be--"

He paused abruptly here, and Pendleton heard him draw his breathsharply between his teeth; his eyes were fixed upon the lowermost stepof the flight that led to the floor above. 

One of the gas branches hung here; its full glare was thrown downward. Following the fixed gaze of his friend, Pendleton saw two partlyburned matches, the stump of a candle, and some traces of tallow whichhad fallen from the latter upon the step. To Pendleton's amazement, his friend dropped to his knees before these as a heathen would beforean idol. With the utmost attention he examined them and the step uponwhich they lay. Then he arose, enthusiasm upon his face. 

"Beautiful!" he cried. "I do not recall ever having seen anything justlike it!" He slapped Pendleton upon the back with a heavy, hand. "Pen, that stump of candle sheds more light than the finest arc lamp evermanufactured. "

"I'm watching and I'm listening, " spoke Pendleton. "Also I'm agitatingmy small portion of gray matter. But inspiration, it seems, is not forme. So I'll have to ask you what these things tell you. "

"Well, they give me a fairly good view of the man who, while he maynot actually have murdered Hume, had much to do with his taking off. "He bent over the lower step once more, then looked up with a smileupon his face. "What would you say, " asked he, "if I told you that Idraw from these things that the gentleman was short, well-dressed, near-sighted and knew something of the modern German dramatists. "

"I should say, " replied Pendleton, firmly, "that you ought to haveyour brain looked at. It sounds wrong to me. "

Ashton-Kirk laughed, and started up the stairs toward the third floor. 

"I'll return in a moment, " he said. "Don't trouble to come up. "

He was gone but a very little while, and when he returned his facewore a satisfied look. 

"The bolt of the scuttle is broken, just as Osborne said, " hereported. "And anyone who could gain the roof would have littledifficulty in effecting an entrance. " He led the way down the hall, saying as he went: "Now we'll browse around in the rooms for a while;then we'll be off to dinner. "

The storage room was entered first as upon the earlier visit, butAshton-Kirk wasted but little time upon it. In the front room, however, he examined things with a minuteness that amazed Pendleton. And yet everything was done quickly; like a keen-nosed hound, theinvestigator went from one object to another; nothing seemed to escapehim, nothing was too small for his attention. One of the first thingsthat he did was to get a chair and plant it against the lettered doorthat led directly into the hall. At the top was a gong with aspring-hammer, one of the sort that rings its warning whenever thedoor is opened; and this the investigator examined with care. 

He then passed into the railed space where the body had lain and wherethe darkened trail of blood still bore ghastly testimony to what hadoccurred. The man's singular eyes scanned the floor, the walls, theflat-topped desk. On this last his attention again became riveted; andonce more Pendleton heard his breath drawn sharply between his teeth. 

"When Hume was struck upon the head, " said Ashton-Kirk, after amoment, "he was standing at this desk. He had just sprung up, probablyupon hearing a sound of some kind. See where the chair is pushed backagainst the wall, just as he would have pushed it had he arisenhastily. When he struck he fell across the desk. " He pointed to a darktrickle of blood down the back of the piece of furniture in question. "That is the result of the blow upon the head, and probably flowedfrom the mouth or nostrils. After the first senseless lurch the bodysettled back and slid to the position in which it was found. Here isa blotting pad, a small pair of shears, a box of clips and a letterscale upon the floor where the sliding body dragged them. The top ofthe desk is of polished wood; it is perfectly smooth; there are nocrevices or anything of the sort to catch hold of anything. When thebody slipped from it, it must have swept everything with it, cleanly. And yet, " bending forward over the desk and picking up a minute redparticle, "here, directly in the center, we find this. "

"What is it?" asked Pendleton, eagerly. 

Ashton-Kirk placed the red particle on his palm and held it out. Itwas shaped like a keystone, and had apparently been cut from somethingthat had been printed upon. 

"It is that portion of a railroad ticket which a conductor's punchbites out, and which litters the floor and the seats in trains. Haveyou never had one fall from your clothes after a railroad journey?"

Pendleton looked at the tiny red fragment, and then at the desk. 

"If Hume fell across the desk, as you've just said, " he remarked, slowly, "and pulled all these other things to the floor with him--why, Kirk, this bit of card, in the very center of the polished top, --itmust have dropped there afterwards. "

"Exactly, " said Ashton-Kirk. "And now, if you don't mind, just stepout into the hall and ask Paulson to come up. "

Pendleton did so; and while he was gone, Ashton-Kirk placed the redfragment carefully in his card-case. When the other re-entered withPaulson at his heels, he asked:

"Have any of the policemen detailed here been out of town recently?"

"No, " replied Paulson. "There have been five besides myself, and theyhave been on duty every day. "

"Thank you, " said the investigator. And as the policeman went out, hemade his way into the kitchen. Here, however, his examination wasbrief, as was that of the bedroom also. At length he paused, his handsin his pockets, his head thrown back, satisfaction lighting his dark, keen face. 

"That is all, I think, " said he. "There have only been a few pages, but the print has been exceedingly good and the matter of muchinterest. " He looked at a clock that ticked solemnly upon a shelf. "Wehave half an hour to reach my place and dress, " he said. "I'm afraidthat we'll be late, and that Edouard will be annoyed. His cookery isso exquisitely timed that it is scarcely the better for delay. "

"Wait a minute, " said Pendleton, grasping his friend's arm. "What partdid Edyth--Miss Vale--play in all this? I can see you have formed inyour mind some sort of completed action. Where does she come into it?"

"Completed!" Ashton-Kirk smiled into the pale, set face of his friend. "You give me too much credit, old chap. I have some undoubted scenesfrom the drama; but most of the remainder are merely detached linesand bits of stage business. As to Miss Vale, " here the smile vanished, "I have been unable to make up my mind just how far she is concerned, if at all. However, perhaps twenty-four hours will make it all clearenough. In the meantime I will say this to you: Don't jump to harshconclusions, Pen. You know this young lady well. How far do yousuppose she would go to the perpetrating of a downright crime?"

"Not a step!" answered Pendleton, promptly. 

"Then, " said Ashton-Kirk, "until we know positively that she has doneso, stick to that. "

CHAPTER VII

THE SCHWARTZ-MICHAEL BAYONET

As Ashton-Kirk and Pendleton sat in the former's library that eveningafter dinner, there came a knock upon the door and Fuller enteredbriskly. In his hand he carried a paper parcel which he laid upon astand at the investigator's elbow. 

"This is the bayonet, sir, " said he. "Mr. Stillman, the coroner, objected to letting me have it at first, but changed his mind after Ihad talked to him for a while. "

"Did you take the photograph to Berg in Christie Place?"

"Yes, sir. He recognized it at once as that of the person inquestion. "

"And you made inquiries upon the other point?"

"I did. Neither Mr. Stillman nor any of the men who removed the bodyof Hume have been out of town within a week. I also questioned Mr. Osborne; his answer was the same. Brolatsky's reply was similar; andhe also said that Hume had not ridden on a railroad in years. "

"That will be all, Fuller; thank you. "

The brisk young man had reached the door when the investigator added:

"One moment. "

He scribbled something upon a pad, tore off the leaf and handed it tohis aid. 

"Look these things up at once. "

Fuller took the paper, glanced at it and then replied:

"Very well, sir. "

Seated in his big chair with the jar of Greek tobacco and sheaf ofbrown paper wrappers before him, Ashton-Kirk did not display any hastein removing the covering from the bayonet that had let the life out ofthe art dealer. Rather he sank deeper into the arms of the chair; thecigarette end became gray and dead between his fingers; the strangelybrilliant eyes closed as though he had fallen asleep. 

But Pendleton, who understood his friend's ways, knew better; thekeen, swift-moving mind was but arranging the developments of the day, weighing them, giving to each its proper value. A little later and theeyes would unclose, more than likely alight with some new idea, somefresh purpose drawn from his reflections. 

And as Pendleton waited he, too, fell into a musing state and alsobegan marshaling the facts as _he_ saw them. Ashton-Kirk, duringdinner, had told him those regarding the visit of Edyth Vale the daybefore. 

"Pen, you know I don't usually do this, " the investigator had informedhim. "But as you know so much already, and your feelings in the matterbeing what they are, I think it best that you should know more. "

And now Pendleton, as he rolled and consumed cigarette aftercigarette, went over the facts as they had been laid before him. 

"And Morris, " said he to himself, as he reached the end of hisfriend's recital; "now what sort of a mess has Allan Morris gothimself into? And after he had got into it, why in heaven's namedidn't he keep quiet about it? What good could come from Edyth'sknowing it?"

Then the fact that Morris had apparently tried to keep his secret fromMiss Vale presented itself. But Pendleton dismissed it with contempt. 

"Tried!" he said to himself. "Of course; but how? By marching up anddown the floor. By a great parade of tragic despair; by sighs and thewringing of his hands. I've always suspected Morris of being a bittheatrical--and now I am sure of it. "

He roused himself for a moment, lighted a fresh cigarette and settledback once more. 

"I'm not Kirk by any means, " he reflected, "and this sort of thing isaltogether out of my line. But it seems clear that Edyth--afterleaving here yesterday--received some unexpected news. When she washere, consulting Kirk, she was, to all appearances, in aquandary--helpless. She did not know how to proceed; she understoodnothing. But her darting off alone that way after midnight proves thatsome sort of a crisis had come up. She had heard something--morethan likely through Morris. He probably, " with great contempt, "became hysterical again, couldn't contain himself and blabbedeverything--whatever it was. "

Then he burst out aloud, angrily. 

"She went to Hume's last night because she had reason to think Morriswould be there. And if the truth were known, Morris _was_ there. "

"My dear fellow, " said the voice of Ashton-Kirk, "the truth, upon thatparticular point, at least, is known. Allan Morris was at Hume's lastnight. He was the man whom Berg saw enter after the musician. "

"How do you know?" asked Pendleton, astonished. 

"Fuller, with a report which he recently made upon Morris, handed me aphotograph of that gentleman. While we were at dinner, Berg identifiedthe portrait as being that of Hume's secret visitor. "

"I was right, then. Edyth _did_ go there expecting to meet him--toprotect him, perhaps. If you knew her as well as I do, Kirk, you'drealize that it's just the sort of thing she'd do. But, " positively, "she did not find him there. "

"What makes you think that? There was still one of Hume's visitorsleft, when she got there. It may have been Morris. "

"It was Spatola, " answered Pendleton, with conviction. "The scream ofthe cockatoo which came from Hume's rooms when the pistol wasdischarged proves it. When Spatola went in, Berg said he was carryingsomething under his coat. Brolatsky told the coroner this morning thatthe Italian sometimes brought his trained birds with him when hecalled at Hume's. That's what he had last night. "

But Ashton-Kirk shook his head. 

"At this time, " he said, "it will scarcely do to be positive on somethings. Indications are plenty, but they must be worked out. I havesome theories of my own upon the very point that you have justcovered, but I will not venture a decided statement until I haveproven them to the limit. It's the only safe way. "

Pendleton discontentedly hitched forward in his chair. 

"I thought, " said he, "that you worked entirely by putting this andthat together. "

"That is precisely what I do, " returned Ashton-Kirk. "But I havefound, through experience, that there must be no loose ends left tohang. Such things are treacherous; you never know when they'll tripyou up and upset all your calculations. " He paused a moment andregarded his friend steadfastly. Then he continued. "But, just now, Ithink we had better not trouble ourselves about Edyth Vale and AllanMorris. To be sure, the latter's connection with the affair ispeculiar; Miss Vale's visit to Hume's last night, the sounds whichSams heard immediately after she had gone in--her turning out of thegas and hurried flight, are also strange and significant enough. Butthey are perhaps the very end of the story; and it is best never tobegin at the end. "

"Is there any way by which you can begin at what you think is thebeginning?" asked the other. 

Ashton-Kirk took up the parcel which Fuller had laid at his elbow. 

"Here is one way, " he answered. "Let us see where it leads us. "

He stripped off the wrapper, and the bayonet which had killed thenumismatist was revealed, blood-clotted and ugly. Carefully theinvestigator examined the broad, powerful blade and heavy bronze hilt. 

"A Schwartz-Michael, just as I thought, " he said. 

"The maker's name is upon it then?" said Pendleton. 

But the other shook his head. 

"No, " said he. "But it happens that I have given some attention toarms, and the bayonet, though a weapon that is passing, came in forits share. "

He balanced the murderous-looking thing in his hand and proceeded. 

"There are not many types of bayonets. The first was what they calleda 'Plug, ' because it was made to fit into the muzzle of a flint, ormatch-lock. Then there was the socket bayonet, the ring bayonet and animproved weapon invented by an English officer named Chillingworthwhich met with much favor in the armies of Europe. But the latestdevelopment is the sword bayonet, of which this is an example. Itsform is a great improvement over the older makes; it is an almostperfect side arm as well, having a cutting edge, a point, and a gripexactly like that of a sword. There are a number of makes of thistype; the Schwartz-Michael is one of the least known of these. Upon its being placed on the market it was adopted by threegovernments--Bolivia, Servia, and Turkey--and there it stopped. "

He laid the weapon upon the table and settled himself back in hischair. 

"It struck me when I first saw the thing, " he went on, "that it was alittle singular that a Schwartz-Michael should even find its way intothe United States. Now, it would not surprise me to find an Englishrevolver in Patagonia, or an American rifle in Thibet, because theyare universally known and used. Any one might carry them. But abayonet is different, of course; it is a strictly military arm, andits utility is limited. That a criminal should select one with whichto commit a murder is unusual; and, further; the fact that the make isone never introduced into the United States is rather remarkable. "

"It is--a little, " agreed Pendleton. 

"It is a small thing, but all clews are small things. Now there aremany ways in which such a weapon might find its way into the country;but I took the most likely of these as a beginning. Before I dressedfor dinner, I ran over a rather complete card-index system which Imaintain; and within a few minutes learned that the republic ofBolivia had, within the past year, changed both the rifle and bayonetused by its army. "

"Well?" asked Pendleton, with interest. 

"When a nation makes such a change, the discarded arms are usuallybought up by some large speculator or dealer in such things. And inthe course of time they find their way to the military goods dealerswho exist all over the world. "

Here Fuller entered the room, and Ashton-Kirk turned to himinquiringly. 

"Well?"

"In the morning _Standard_ of April 9th, " announced the young man, "Ifind an advertisement of Bernstine Brothers relative to a sale ofcondemned army equipment. "

"Is anything specified?"

"They considered it important that high-power modern rifles were to besold at a very small price. And they also lay some stress upon thefact that the stuff had been in use by the Bolivian army. "

Pendleton saw a look of satisfaction come into his friend's eyes. Butthere was no other evidence of anything unusual. 

"And now, " said the investigator, quietly, "with regard to this othermatter. "

"I find that there are two schools for mutes in this section, "answered Fuller. "But both are some distance out of town. "

The satisfaction in Ashton-Kirk's singular eyes deepened. 

"Excellent, " said he. 

"One is on the main line--Kittridge Station; the other is on theHammondsville Branch at a place called Cordova. "

"Thank you, " said Ashton-Kirk. 

And when the door had once more closed behind his aid, theinvestigator continued to Pendleton:

"I figured upon some of the equipment reaching here. Military goodshouses, such as Bernstine's, usually advertise each lot they receive;and I considered it possible that the murderer might have beenattracted by this notice and procured the weapon from them. If he did, we may get some trace of him by inquiring at Bernstine's. But, "flinging his arms wide and yawning as though weary of the subject, "that is work for to-morrow. To-night we will rest and prepare forwhat is to come. But in the meantime, " arising with enthusiasm, "letme show you a first edition of the 'Knickerbocker's History of NewYork' which I picked up recently. "

He went to his book-shelves and took down two faded volumes. Witheager hands Pendleton took them from him. 

"Original covers!" cried he. "Binding unbroken; in perfect conditioninside; not a spot or a stain anywhere. " Then he regarded his friendwith undisguised envy. "Kirk, " said he, "you're a lucky dog. You candig up more good things than anybody else that I know. "

CHAPTER VIII

THE NEWSPAPERS BEGIN TO PLAY THEIR PART

Next morning Ashton-Kirk lounged in a comfortable window-seat, almostknee-deep in newspapers. The published accounts of the assassinationwere, in some instances, very sensational. Drawings, by specialartists of persons concerned, were much in evidence, also half-tonesof the exterior of 478 Christie Place. The names of Osborne andStillman figured largely in the types; but what interested theinvestigator most was a portrait of the musician--the violinist, Antonio Spatola, and the story of his arrest. 

The pictured face was that of a young man with a great head of curlinghair. The features were regular, the expression eager and appealing. 

"I would have pronounced him a musician, even if I had not heard thathe was one, " said Ashton-Kirk. "The head and face formations have allthe qualities. " Then he ran over the story of Spatola's arrest and thecauses that led up to it. At the finish he smiled. "They have triedand convicted him on the first page. If there was any way for them todo it, they'd execute him in the evening editions and print his dyingwords in the sporting extra. But, " and he nodded his headappreciatively, "Osborne has a good case against him, at that. "

Both the clerk, Isidore Brolatsky, and Berg seemed to have talkedfreely to the newspapermen. The character of Hume was treated in ahighly colored manner. The visits of the Italian musician to thenumismatist, his ambition to shine as another Kubelik, hisungovernable temper, the high words that followed Hume's frequentsneers at his ambition and the fact that he once drew a knife upon histormentor, were presented in full. But what appealed to thespace-writers most was Brolatsky's story of how Hume had once calledSpatola "Mad Anthony, " and afterward showed him the portrait ofGeneral Wayne. 

"This apparently drove him frantic, " wrote one reporter, "and, notingthis, Hume frequently applied the name to him, and more than likelydisplayed the portrait as well. The last time that Spatola visitedHume was upon the night of the murder. He evidently went to regale thenumismatist with music; for the delicatessen dealer, Berg, saw underhis coat what was evidently his violin. During the course of theconcert, Hume probably resumed his sneers; unable any longer to bearit, the Italian apparently struck him down, and then in blind rage ofresentment, smashed and otherwise destroyed every one of the Wayneportraits he could find. "

Fuller came in with another newspaper just about this time andAshton-Kirk showed him the story. 

"The _Standard_, then, seems to ignore the theory held by Osborne andStillman that the murder was done in an attempt to steal the portraitfound partly cut from the frame, " said the assistant after studyingthe account. Then, inquiringly, he added: "What do you think of it, sir?"

"As a piece of sensational writing, I have no fault to find with it, "said the investigator. "But the _Standard's_ young man is no deepthinker. The single fact that Hume was a lover of real music shouldhave shown him that his theory was wrong. "

Fuller considered a moment. 

"I don't think I quite get that, " said he. 

"It is simple enough. Hume being sensitive to harmony, asked Spatolavery frequently to play for him; and, according to Brolatsky, paid himrather well for each performance. To furnish good music, Spatola musthave not only talent, but also a violin that was at least fairlygood. "

"Yes, sir, I see that. "

"Having a violin that was at least fairly good, Spatola, being a poorman, would take care of it. He would carry it in a case--he wouldespecially do so in wet or damp weather. And it rained on the nightof the murder. If he carried his violin in a case, there was no needof his putting it under his coat. And, another thing, a violin case isof such size as to prevent its being so carried, isn't it?"

Fuller nodded. 

"I think that's very good, " said he. 

"It would have been a very easy thing for the _Standard's_ man to havemade a few inquiries as to whether Spatola used a violin case or no. If he had done so, I am inclined to think that the answers would havebeen in the affirmative. But there is another and more vital pointupon which I would base an objection to the reporter's theory. He saysthat, goaded into a rage, Spatola struck his tormentor down. But heforgets that If the murderer did not visit Hume's with the intentionof doing murder, it was rather a freakish thing for him to providehimself with a bayonet. However, that is a point that I discussed withMr. Stillman yesterday; at first he was inclined to assume a somewhatsimilar position. "

"But the broken and cut portraits?" questioned Fuller. 

Ashton-Kirk smiled a little. 

"Probably I shall be able to properly account for them when I returnfrom a little trip that I am about to take to-day, " said he. "Thatis, " as a sort of afterthought, "if some things turn out as I thinkthey will. "

Fuller unfolded the newspaper that he had brought in. 

"It is a late edition of the _Star_, " he said. "The paper seems tohave scored a beat, for it has some developments that may put adifferent face upon everything. "

Ashton-Kirk took the sheet, and as he glanced at the flaringheadlines, he whistled softly. The lines read:

 "MYSTERIOUS WOMAN IN A MOTOR CAR!

 "She Visits 478 Christie Place on the Night of Murder!

 "DID A BEAUTIFUL WOMAN'S HAND DEAL THE DEADLY BLOW?

 "A New Element Added to the Hume Sensation!"

"The _Star_ man seems to have struck up an acquaintance with Sams, "said Ashton-Kirk, with interest. He thought for a moment, and thenadded to Fuller:

"Tell Stumph when Miss Edyth Vale arrives to show her here at once. "

"Oh, you have been expecting her then?"

"No: I have not. But I am now. "

After Fuller left the room, the investigator turned eagerly to the_Star's_ leaded narrative. This laid great stress upon the evidentwealth and dazzling beauty of the mysterious midnight visitor inChristie Place; and second only to her did they feature thewell-dressed stranger whom Berg had seen enter at Hume's door beforehe had closed his own place for the night. The revolver shot that hadfollowed the woman's entrance and the parrot-like scream which had, inturn, followed that, lost nothing in the telling. 

"Who was the woman? That is the mystery, " the newspaper said inconclusion. "The hack driver caught but a glimpse of her, and in theexcitement of the moment failed to take the number of the car. Butthat the latter was a Maillard he is positive. There are severalheadquarter's men following up the clew as this goes to press; andstartling developments are expected at any moment. 

"As to the second man whom the fancy grocer, Berg, saw go into Hume's, there is a well-founded belief that he is very well known in selectcircles and had called at Hume's frequently upon a matter concerningwhich both he and Hume were always very secretive. The _Star_ calledup both his apartments and his office, but he had not been seen ateither place on the day after the murder. The clubs of which he is amember were resorted to, but with no more success. As this gentlemanis known to be engaged to the beautiful heiress of a huge fortune, the_Star's_ well-known special writer, Nancy Prindeville, was detailed toget her statement. But a man servant stated that his mistress hadgiven positive orders that she could not be seen. "

The investigator threw down the paper. 

"Well, " said he to himself with a shrug, "that makes it a littleannoying for the young lady. The fact that they refer to Morris whenthey speak of a young man 'well known in select circles' will be plainto everyone, for the facts of Morris' visits have been rather wellexploited in all the other papers. And as newspaper men are notwithout daring in their conjectures, I wonder how long it will bebefore one of them openly associates the 'beautiful unknown' withAllan Morris' betrothed. I would, I think, offer even money that thething is hinted at before night. "

He sat for some time in the midst of the scattered sheets thinkingdeeply; then he pressed the bell call, and Fuller presented himself. 

"I want you to take up the investigation of Hume and Allan Morriswhere you left off the other day. Put Burgess, O'Neill and any othersthat you desire on the matter. I want _complete_ information, and Iwant it _quickly_. "

"Yes, sir, " answered Fuller. 

"Follow up anything that promises results concerning Morris' father. Especially find out if he ever knew Hume. Get every fact that can begathered about the latter. You, or rather Burgess, hinted in thepreliminary report that it was thought that he had at one time livedabroad. If it is possible, establish that fact. In any event, go intohis history as deeply as you can. "

"Very well, " said Fuller, with the easy manner of a person accustomedto carrying out difficult orders. 

As the young man went out at one door, Stumph knocked upon another;then Miss Edyth Vale, very pale, but entirely composed, was shown intothe room. 

CHAPTER IX

MISS VALE TELLS WHAT SHE KNOWS

Ashton-Kirk arose, kicked aside the litter of newspapers, and placed achair for his visitor. 

"Your man told me that I was expected, " she said. "How did you knowthat I would come this morning?"

"I knew that you'd be sure to read the newspapers, " said he. "And Iwas pretty confident as to the effect the _Star's_ account wouldhave. "

She sat down quietly and for a few moments did not speak. A slighttrembling of the lower lip was the only indication of the strain underwhich she was laboring. Finally she said:

"I am very sorry that I deceived you yesterday morning. "

He waved his hand lightly. 

"I was not deceived; so there was no harm done, " he explained. 

She began tugging nervously at her gloves, much as she had done a fewmornings before. Her face was still composed; but deep in herbeautiful eyes was an expression of fear. 

"I might have known that I could not do it, " she said. "But theimpulse came to me to deny everything as the easiest and safest wayout of it all; and I obeyed it. I was not calm enough to consider thepossible harm that it might do. However, " and her firm voice broke alittle, "I suppose the newspapers would have ferreted out the facts inany event. "

"They are very keen in the pursuit of anything that promises a goodstory, " agreed the investigator. "But if you had given me the facts asyou intended doing when you called me on the 'phone yesterday morning, I'd have had twenty-four hours start of them, at least. "

She leaned toward him earnestly. 

"I am going to be frank with you now, " she said. "And perhaps it isnot yet too late. I _did_ intend telling you everything when Itelephoned you, but, as I have said, the impulse came to hide it, instead!"

"It was fear, " said Ashton-Kirk, "and was, perhaps, perfectly naturalunder the circumstances. "

"When I left you two mornings ago, " said Miss Vale, "I felt easier inmy mind than I had in months before. From what I had heard of you, Ifelt sure that the little problem which I had set you would proveabsurdly simple. This feeling clung to me all day; I was light andhappy, and astonished my aunt, Mrs. Page, by consenting to go withher to Mrs. Barron's that night, a thing that I had been refusing todo for a long time. 

"Late in the afternoon, Allan--Mr. Morris--came. As soon as I saw himI knew that something had happened or was about to happen. There wasno color in his face; his eyes had a feverish glitter, his voice washigh pitched and excited. But I did not let him see that I noticedthis. I talked to him quietly about a score of things; and by a mostcircuitous route approached the matter that interested me most--ourmarriage. 

"To my surprise he plunged into the subject with the greatesteagerness. Before that, as I have told you, he always did his best toavoid it; the least mention of it seemed to sadden him, to cause himpain. But now he discussed it excitedly; apparently it was no longer adim, far-off thing, but one which he saw very clearly. As you mayimagine, I was both astonished and delighted. But this was only atfirst. In a little while I noticed something in his tone, in hismanner, in his feverish eyes that I did not like. "

She paused for a moment; Ashton-Kirk clasped his knee with both handsand regarded her with interest. 

"It was a sort of subdued fierceness, " continued Miss Vale--"as thoughhe were setting his face against some invisible force and defying it. When he mentioned our happiness that was to be, I could see his handsclose tightly, I could read menace in the set of his jaw. As he wasgoing, he said to me:

"'There has been something--a something that you've never been able tounderstand--keeping us apart. But it is about at an end. Human natureendures a great deal, sometimes, but it's endurance does not lastforever. To-night, my dear, puts an end to my endurance. I am going toshow what I should have shown long ago--that I'm a man. '

"Then he went away, and I was frightened. All sorts of possibilitiespresented themselves to me--vague, indefinite, formless terrors. Itried to shake them off, but could not. It became firmly fixed in mymind that something was going to happen--that Allan was aboutto--to--" here the steady voice faltered once more, "to take a stepthat would bring danger upon him. 

"And that night I went to Mrs. Barron's as I had promised. I talked topeople--I laughed--I even danced. But never for a moment did the fearcease gripping at my heart. At last I could stand it no longer. I feltthat I must go to where this danger was confronting Allan; and as thehouse in Christie Place was the first that arose in my mind, I wentthere. 

"I saw the cab upon the opposite side of the street; and the driver ofit looked at me so hard that I drove on without stopping, as thenewspaper states. But my courage came back in a few moments; Ireturned and went in. "

"You halted on the stairs, " said Ashton-Kirk. "Why?"

"Because I saw a light moving about in the hallway above, " answeredMiss Vale. Then she added: "But how did you know that I stopped uponthe stairs?"

"I did not know it, " replied Ashton-Kirk. "In his story the cab driversays you entered at Hume's door and went upstairs. I have found thatthe position which his cab occupied at the time was fully fifteen feetwest of Hume's doorway, making it impossible for him to see whetheryou went up at once, or not. In the face of what immediately followedyour entrance, or rather, what is said to have followed it, I thoughtit reasonable to suppose that you had stopped!"

"Thank you, " said Miss Vale. 

"You say there was a light moving about; but what else did you see?"

"Nothing. "

"But you heard something?"

"Yes; the revolver shot, and then the dreadful cry that followed it. "

Ashton-Kirk unclasped his hands from about his knee, placed them uponthe arms of his chair and leaned forward. 

"But between the two--after the shot, and before the cry, you heard adoor close, " he said. 

She gave a little gasp of surprise. 

"I did, " she said. "I remember it distinctly now that you mention it. It closed sharply, but not very loudly. "

The investigator leaned back and began drumming upon the arm of hischair with his long supple fingers. 

"Experience never quite takes away that comfortable feeling ofsatisfaction that the proving of a theory gives one, " said he. "Isuppose it is a sort of reward that Nature reserves for effort. "

And he smiled at his beautiful visitor's puzzled look, and went on:

"The cab driver says that the cry resembled that of a parrot orcockatoo. What do you think?"

"It was not unlike their scream, " said Miss Vale. "But I was too muchstartled to think of comparing it to anything at the time!"

"What happened after you heard this cry?"

"I waited for some little time, part way up the stairs. Then the lightwhich I had seen glancing over the walls and across the ceiling, seemed to halt and die down. After this there was a pause, a stoppageof everything, and fear took possession of me. Suppose Allan hadreally intended visiting the place--suppose he had precededme--suppose something dreadful had just happened--something in whichhe had had a part!

"Filled with thoughts like these, I ascended the remaining stairs. There was a light shining through the lettered glass of the door atthe front; but the hall was deserted; the far end was thick withshadows. I tried the door where the light was, but it was fast; thedoor nearest the stairs was open; I entered by that, and passed intothe front room through a communicating doorway. Then I saw the--thebody, turned out the light, ran stumbling through the rooms and downthe stairs. "

"Why did you turn out the light?" asked the investigator. 

"I don't know. Partly, I suppose, to shut the awful thing upon thefloor from my sight--and partly--"

She stopped, but Ashton-Kirk completed the sentence for her. 

"And partly with the confused idea that you might hide the deed frompublic gaze and in that way save Allan Morris from the consequences ofhis crime, " said he. 

At this she sprang up, her hands outstretched appealingly; the fearnow plain in her face. 

"No, no!" she cried. "He is not guilty! He did not do it!"

"My dear young lady, " said Ashton-Kirk, soothingly, "controlyourself. Don't forget that before this thing is ended you willprobably need all the self-command you can summon. " Then as sheresumed her seat, he added: "I did not say that he was guilty. I wasmerely telling you of the formless thought that you had in mind whenyou turned out the light. "

She sat staring at him, the horror of it all still in her eyes. Thenshe nodded her head slowly, and said in a husky voice. 

"Yes; that is what I thought, and that is why I called you on thetelephone. I thought you would pity me and show me some way ofcovering it all up. But after I had your promise to come, I was seizedwith the fear that you might--that you might betray him. That is, Isuppose, the real reason why I tried to deceive you. In my terror Imyself thought Allan guilty. But, of course, now that I have had timeto calmly think it over, I know he was not--that he _couldn't_ be! Noone who knows him will believe he did it. "

"What reason had you for thinking that he might be guilty?"

"His manner during the afternoon before the murder. He seemed sofiercely resolved, so different from his usual self. "

"I understand. And what makes you think now that he is innocent?"

"I believe it because I understand his nature, " said Miss Vale, earnestly. "He might be finally aroused--under provocation he mighteven be violent. But he could never do a thing like this--it is tooutterly horrible. "

"You have judged that it was probably he who was seen to go intoHume's before the murder?"

"Yes. "

"Hume was alive when Berg closed up his shop; he was dead when youentered his showroom a half hour or so later. Therefore he must havemet his death while the cab driver Sams sat on his box across thestreet. Now, while Morris was seen to go in, it is not at all positivethat he was the man who came out. We are not _sure_ that he was notpresent when the crime was committed. "

Miss Vale reared her head proudly. 

"Is it possible, " she said, "that you are trying to fix this deed uponAllan Morris?"

"I am trying to find the real truth, " answered Ashton-Kirk, gravely. 

"The police, " said Miss Vale, "according to the newspapers, thoughtthat the criminal gained admission by way of the roof. This may or maynot be so; but I think it is pretty evident that he made his way outin that manner. I was on the stairs while he was in the hall. He fled, but as he did not pass me, he must have gone upwards. If Allan Morrishad done this murder he would not have thought of this; not knowingthe section, he would have been ignorant as to where the roof wouldlead. But if Spatola were the man who remained, it would have beendifferent. Do the papers not say that he lives in a garret, or loft, in the same block? How easy it would have been for him to pass outupon the roof of 478 after the crime and then over the housetops ofthe block until he came to a scuttle which perhaps led into his veryattic?"

"That, " said Ashton-Kirk, "is very well conceived. But it has oneweakness. You are not sure that the murderer _did_ ascend to the roofafter the crime. He may have been lurking in the shadows which you saywere lying so thickly at the end of the hall. He may have beenwatching you as you discovered the body, while you ran down the hallonce more and down the stairs. To be sure, you slammed the door behindyou; and so locked it. But like all spring or latch locks, it could bereadily opened from the inside. No one else came out while the cabdriver waited; but that was only for another fifteen minutes, according to his own statement. The murderer could easily have waiteduntil he had gone and then slipped out, also locking the door afterhim. "

Miss Vale sat staring at the speaker dumbly for a space; then sheasked in a dry, expressionless way:

"And do you really think this is what happened?"

Ashton-Kirk shook his head. 

"No, " said he. "I merely mentioned it to show you that it is difficultto be sure of anything in a matter like this until, " with a smile, "you _are_ sure. It is one of the things that may have happened; butit is also open to question. A criminal whose crime has beendiscovered does not ordinarily linger upon the scene. You had justfled with the terror of the thing fresh upon you. How did he know butthat you might scream it out to everyone you met. "

Again she looked at him mutely. Then she said:

"What, then, is your theory of the crime?"

"I have a number of possibilities at this moment, " he said. "Ofcourse, there is one to which I give the preference; but until a thingis proven beyond question, it is my rule never to outline mytheories. "

Before Miss Vale left she had implored him to do all he could to clearthe matter up, for her sake and for Morris's. "Of course, " she said inconclusion, "I now understand that the entire matter will get into thepapers. It is too late to prevent that. But it is not too late for youto fix the guilt where it belongs. And I have every confidence thatyou will do it. If I had not, " and her voice quavered pitifully, "Idon't know what I should do. "

"I will do what I can. Success sometimes comes easily--sometimes oneis forced to fight hard for it. But rest assured that I will do what Ican. "

She was going; he held the library door open for her while thegrave-faced Stumph waited in the hall. 

"It will, perhaps, be necessary for me to see Mr. Morris sometimeduring the course of the day, " said Ashton-Kirk, as an afterthought. "Would it be convenient for you to let him know that I can be seen atsix?"

The fear that his soothing words had driven from her eyes, swept backinto them; he saw her tremble and steady herself against thedoor-frame. 

"I cannot let him know, " she said. "I have not seen him since--sincethe time I have mentioned. I have waited, telephoned, sent messages, even gone in person. But I could not find him. No one seems to knowanything of his whereabouts. "

CHAPTER X

ASHTON-KIRK ASKS QUESTIONS

For some time after Miss Vale had gone, Ashton-Kirk stood at one ofthe windows and looked down at the sordid, surging, dirty crowd inthe street. The worn horses went dispiritedly up and down; thethroaty-voiced men clamored strangely through their beards; childrenplayed in the black ooze of the gutters; women bundled in immenseknitted garments and with their heads wrapped in shawls, haggled overscatterings of faded, weak looking vegetables. The vendors grewfrantic and eloquent in their combats with these experiencedpurchasers; their gestures were high, sharp and loaded with protest. 

Then Pendleton came. He was burdened with newspapers and wore anexcited look. 

"I brought these, thinking that perhaps you had not seen them, " heexclaimed, throwing the dailies among the others upon the floor. "ButI note that your morning's reading has been very complete. Now tellme, Kirk, what the mischief do you think of all this?"

"I suppose, you refer to the published reports of the Hume case?"

"Of course! As far as I am concerned, there is not, just now, anyother thing of consequence on earth. " Then he struck the table withhis fist. "And it's all the fault of that cur--Allan Morris! Every bitof it! There is not a space writer or amateur detective on a singlepaper in the city that hasn't his nose to the ground at this minute, hunting the trail. They are all at it. I stopped at the Vale's on myway here, but they told me she was not at home. From the top step tothe curb, on my way out, I was stopped four times by stony-faced youngmen all anxious to make good with their city editors. 'Was I a friendof the family? Did Miss Vale seem at all upset by the matter? Wherewas Allan Morris? What brought him so frequently, as Brolatsky said, to see Hume?' I believe they'd have come over the back of my car evenafter I started, if I had given but an encouraging look. "

"The evening papers will be a trial to Miss Vale for the next fewdays. "

"Well, don't neglect the morning issues, if you are going to mentionany. In to-morrow's _Star_ there will be a portrait of Edyth fourcolumns wide and eight inches high. I'll expect such expressions as'beautiful society girl, ' 'a recent debutante, ' 'heiress to the vastfortune of the late structural steel king, ' 'charming manner andbrilliant mind. ' And at those odd times when they are not praisingher gowns, her wealth or her good looks, they'll be rather worse thaninsinuating that she knows all about the crime--if she didn't commitit herself!"

He paced up and down the floor, his huge motoring coat flappingdistressfully about his legs. His face was flushed. 

"If I had Morris here, " he threatened, "I'd show him a few things, thepup!" Then suddenly he stopped his tramping and faced his friend. "Butnow that it is as it is, " he demanded, "what are we going to do aboutit?"

"There are quite a number of very sensible things for us to do, "replied Ashton-Kirk, good-humoredly. "And the first of them is to keepour tempers--the second to keep cool. "

"All right, " sulked Pendleton. "I know well enough that I need to doboth. But what next?"

"Is your car still outside?"

"Yes. "

"Good. We'll have a little use for it to-day, if you're not otherwiseengaged. "

"Kirk, " said Pendleton, earnestly, "until this matter is settled, don't hesitate to command me. I know that I'm not generally creditedwith much serious purpose; but even the lightweight feelsthings--sometimes. "

Within half an hour, Ashton-Kirk, in a perfectly fitting, carefullypressed suit of gray, tan shoes and a light colored knock-about cap, led the way down to the car. As they got in, he said:

"We'd better go to Bernstine's first. It's the nearest and on our wayto the station. "

A twenty minute's run through a baffling maze of vehicles brought themto the curb before a store with a very conspicuous modern front ofplate glass and metal. Inside they inquired for one of the Messrs. Bernstine; and upon one of the gentlemen presenting himself, Ashton-Kirk handed him his card. Mr. Bernstine was stout, bald andaffable. 

"I have heard of you, sir, " said he, "and I am delighted to be ofservice!"

"Within the last few weeks, " said Ashton-Kirk, "you have had a sale ofrifles and other things condemned by the military authorities ofBolivia. "

Mr. Bernstine wrinkled his smooth forehead in reflection. 

"Bolivia?" said he. "Now let me see. " He pondered heavily for a fewmoments and then sighed. "You see, " he explained, "we sell so manylots, from so many different places, that we can hardly keep the runof them. But our books will show, " proudly; "everything we do is inour books. "

He looked down the long, table-crowded store and called loudly:

"Sime!"

Sime instantly put in an appearance. He was small, sandy-haired andfreckled; he wore an alert expression and carried a marking pencilbehind his ear. 

"This is our shipping and receiving clerk, " said Mr. Bernstine. "He'sup to everything around the place. " Then he lowered his voice andjerked his fat thumb toward the newcomer secretly, addressingPendleton: "Clever! Just full of it. "

Sime listened to Ashton-Kirk's question attentively. 

"Yes, " he said, in answer, "we had some of that stuff lately. Soldwell, too, considering the time of the year. " He pulled open a drawerand took out a fat, canvas-covered book. "Two gross rifles; onehundred gross cartridges. " He closed the book, tossed it into thedrawer and then slid the drawer shut. "There were a few bayonets, too. About half a dozen. "

With his round, fat countenance shining with admiration, Mr. Bernstineonce more caught Pendleton's eye. 

"Just full of it, " he murmured, sotto voce. "As full as he can be. "

"The bayonets, " said Ashton-Kirk, "are what we are after. They wereall sold, I suppose?"

"Yes, " replied Sime. "I remember, when the last one went, saying toone of our men that we were lucky. You see, bayonets don't sell verywell except to military companies; and _they_ are not organizing everyday. "

"Do you know who bought them?"

Sime took the marking pencil from behind his ear and proceeded toscratch his head with its point. Mr. Bernstine watched him anxiously. But when the shipping clerk pulled open the drawer once more, theemployer's face lighted up. 

"Ah!" said he to Pendleton. "The books! Now we'll have it. "

"They were all taken away by the people who bought them, " announcedSime, after a great flipping of ink spattered pages, "All except one. "

"And that one--"

"It went by our boy. It was sold to Mr. Cartwright the artist, and wassent to his studio up here in Fifth St. But there was another--thelast one that we had, " suddenly, "and now that I get thinking of it, Iremember we had some trouble about it. The man that bought it was aDago. "

Pendleton darted a swift look at Ashton-Kirk, but the investigator'sexpression never changed. He looked steadily at the clock. 

"When he asked for the bayonet, " proceeded Sime, "I knew we had oneleft, but I could not just lay my hands on it. He paid for it and Isaid we'd send it to him. He started to give me his address, and thenchanged his mind and said he'd come back again. "

"And he did?"

"Yes; the same afternoon. I had found the thing by that time and hetook it with him. "

"You don't recall the address?"

To his employer's evident mortification, Sime shook his head. 

"Look in the books, " suggested Mr. Bernstine with confidence. "Look inthe books. "

"It ain't there, " answered Sime. "He said he'd come back, so I didn'tput it down. "

"Was it Christie Place?"

Sime pointed at Ashton-Kirk with his pencil. 

"You've got it, " said he. "That was it, sure enough. "

"And you think the man was an Italian?"

"Well, he talked and looked like one. Rather well educated too, Ithink. "

Ashton-Kirk thanked the clerk, and the now beaming Mr. Bernstine, andwith Pendleton left the place. 

"Well, " said Pendleton, as they climbed into the car, "this aboutfixes the thing, doesn't it? The musician, Antonio Spatola, is theguilty man, beyond a doubt. "

The investigator settled back after giving the chauffeur his nextstop. 

"Beyond a doubt, " said he, "is rather an extreme expression. The factthat the bayonet was purchased by an Italian who gave his address asChristie Place is not enough to convict Spatola. All sorts of peoplelive in that street, and there are perhaps other Italians among them. "

Pendleton called out to the chauffeur to stop. 

"We'll settle that at once, " said he. "Spatola's picture is in thepapers. We'll ask the clerk if it is that of the man to whom he soldthe weapon. "

But Ashton-Kirk restrained him. 

"I thought of the published portraits while Sime was speaking, " saidhe. "And I also thought that it was very fortunate that neither he norhis employer were readers of the newspapers. "

"How do you know that they are not?"

"If they had read to-day's issues they would have at once connectedthe Italian who purchased the bayonet with the one who is said to haveused it--wouldn't they; especially as both Italians lived on the samestreet? Bernstine and Sime said nothing because they suspect nothing. And, as I have said, this is fortunate, because, suspecting nothing, they will continue, " with a smile, "to say nothing. If the police orreporters got this, they'd swoop down on the trail and perhaps spoileverything!"

"But Bernstine or his clerk will hear of the matter sooner or later, "complained Pendleton. "And the police and reporters will then get inon the thing anyhow. "

"But there will be a delay, " said his friend. "And that may be what weneed just now. Perhaps a few hours will mean success. You can nevertell. The best that we could get by explaining matters to Sime wouldbe a positive identification of Spatola, or the reverse. And we canget that from him at any time. So you see, we lose nothing bywaiting. "

"I guess that's so, " Pendleton acknowledged, and again the car startedforward. At the huge entrance to a railroad station they drew up oncemore. 

Within, Ashton-Kirk inquired for the General Passenger Agent and wasdirected to the ninth floor. The agent was a slim little man with hugewhiskers of snowy whiteness, and a most dignified manner. 

"Oh, yes, " he said, after glancing at the investigator's card. "I haveheard of you, of course. Who, " with a little bow, "has not? Indeed, ifI remember aright, this road had the honor to employ you a few yearsago in a matter necessitating some little delicacy of handling. Am Inot right?"

"And I think it was you, " said Ashton-Kirk, smoothly, "who provided mewith some very clearly cut facts which were of considerable service. "

The little General Passenger Agent looked pleased and smoothed hisbeautiful whiskers softly. 

"I was most happy, " said he. 

"Just now, " said Ashton-Kirk, "I am engaged in a matter of someconsequence, and once more you can be of assistance to me. "

"Sit down, " invited the other, readily. "Sit down, and command me. "

Both Pendleton and the investigator sat down. The latter said to thepassenger agent:

"I understand that every railroad has a system by which it can tellwhich conductor has punched a ticket. "

"Oh, yes. A very simple one. You see the hole left by each punch isdifferent. One will cut a perfectly round hole, another will besquare, still another will be a triangle, and so on, indefinitely. "

From his card case, Ashton-Kirk produced the small red particle whichhe had found upon the desk of the murdered man. 

"Here is a fragment cut from a ticket, " he said. "It is shaped like akeystone. I should like to know, if you can tell me, what train istaken out by the conductor who uses the keystone punch. "

The agent touched a signal and picked up the end of a tube. 

"The head ticket counter, " said he. "At once. " Then he laid down thetube and continued to his visitors. "He is the man who can supply thatsort of information instantly. "

The ticket counter was a heavy-set young man, in spectacles and withhis hair much rumpled. He peered curiously at the strangers. 

"Does any conductor on our lines use a punch which cuts out akeystone?" inquired the General Passenger Agent. 

"Yes, Purvis, " replied the heavy young man. "Runs the Hammondsvillelocal. "

"I am obliged to you both, " said Ashton-Kirk. "This little hint may beimmensely valuable to me. And now, " to the agent, "if I could have amoment with Conductor Purvis, I would be more grateful to you thanever. "

"His train is out in the shed now, " said the ticket counter, lookingat his watch. "Leaves in eight minutes. "

"I'm sorry that I can't have him up here for you, " said the passengeragent. "Just now that is impossible. But, " inquiringly, "couldn't youspeak to him down on the platform?"

"Of course, " replied Ashton-Kirk. 

He and Pendleton arose; the little man with the large white whiskerswas thanked once more, as was the heavy young man with the rumpledhair. 

"You'll find the Hammondsville train at Gate E, " the latter informedthem. 

Then the two shot down to the platform level and made their way towardGate E. 

CHAPTER XI

PENDLETON IS VASTLY ENLIGHTENED

The Hammondsville local was taking on its passengers. It was a sootytrain, made up of three coaches and a combination baggage and smokingcar. The gateman pointed out its conductor, inside, and the twoapproached him. 

He was a spare, elderly man with a wrinkled, shrewd face, and a short, pointed manner of speech. 

"Oh, the General Passenger Agent sent you?" said he, examining them. "All right. What's wanted?"

"Your train stops at a station called Cordova, does it not?"

"It stops at every station on the run. Cordova's one of them. "

"There is an institution at Cordova, I believe?"

"For deaf and dumb kids--yes. "

"Of course some of the people from there ride in and out with you attimes. "

"I don't get many of the youngsters. But the folks that run the placeoften come to the city. "

"You are acquainted with them, of course. I mean in the way thatlocal conductors come to be acquainted with their regular riders. "

Purvis grinned. 

"Say, " said he. "It's hard to get acquainted with some of them asylumpeople. There's only a couple of them that can talk!"

"I see. " Pendleton noted Ashton-Kirk's dark eyes fixed steadfastlyupon the man's face as though he desired to read the remainder fromhis expression. "There is one of them, " continued the investigator, "whom perhaps you have noticed. He's rather a small man, and wearsthick glasses. He also dresses very carefully, and he wears a silkhat. "

"Oh, yes, " said the conductor, "I know him. He goes in and out quiteoften. Very polite too. Always says good day with his fingers; if thetrain is crowded, he's a great little fellow for getting up and givinghis seat to the ladies. "

"Have you ever heard his name?"

"Yes. It's Locke. He's some kind of a teacher. "

Ashton-Kirk thanked the man, and with Pendleton walked through thegate. As they were descending the stairs to the street, Pendletonsaid:

"And now he wears a silk hat, does he? But you have not made sure ofthe man. You forgot to inquire if Mr. Locke favored the Germandramatists. "

For a moment Ashton-Kirk looked puzzled, then he burst into a laugh. 

"Ah, " said he, "you remember that. "

"Of course I remember it. How can I forget it? You go prancing aboutso like a conjurer that there's not a moment that I don't expectsomething. If you finish by dragging the murderer from your sleeve, I'll not be at all astonished. Your methods lead me to expect somesuch a finale. "

"To explain each step as I take it, " said the investigator, "would bemuch more difficult than the work itself. However the time has nowarrived for me to enlighten you somewhat upon this point, at least. Iam quite convinced that this man Locke played a leading part in themurder of Hume. He is in a manner definitely placed, and I can speakof him without fracturing any of my prejudices. "

They got into the car, and Ashton-Kirk continued to the chauffeur:

"Christie Place. " Then to Pendleton, he added as the machine started, "I want to make some inquiries at the house where Spatola lived; andin order to make the matter clearer, we'll just drop in at 478. "

As they proceeded along at a bounding pace, the investigator relatedto Pendleton what had passed between Edyth Vale and himself a fewhours before. Pendleton drew a great breath of relief. 

"Of course I knew that her part in the matter was something likethat, " he said, "but I'm glad to hear it, just the same. " He looked athis friend for a moment and then continued: "But how did you know thatEdyth heard a door close immediately after the pistol shot?"

They had just drawn up in front of Hume's, and as Ashton-Kirk got out, he said:

"If you had only used your eyes as we were going over the place, " saidhe, "you'd have no occasion to ask that question. "

There was a different policeman at the door; but fortunately he knewthe investigator and they were allowed to enter at once. When abouthalf way up the stairs, Ashton-Kirk said:

"This, I think, is about the place where Miss Vale stopped when shesaw the light-rays moving across the ceiling and wall of the hall. Youget the first glimpse of those from this point. Remain here a momentand I'll try and reproduce what she heard--with the exception of thecry. "

Pendleton obediently paused upon the stairs; Ashton-Kirk went on upand disappeared. In a few moments there came a sharp, ringing report, and Pendleton, dashing up the stairs, saw his friend standing holdingopen the showroom door--the one with Hume's name painted upon it. 

"It's the bell, " said Ashton-Kirk, pointing to the gong at the top ofthe door frame. "When I examined it this morning I saw that it wasscrewed up too tight, and knew that it would make a sound much like apistol shot to ears not accustomed to it. "

Pendleton stared in amazement at the simplicity of the thing. 

"I see, " said he. "While Edyth stood listening on the stairs someoneopened this door!"

"Yes; someone unacquainted with the place. Otherwise he would haveknown of the bell. "

"But how did you know that Edyth heard a door close?"

"Whoever rang the bell closed the door after him. It has a spring locklike the street door; and was locked when Miss Vale tried it a fewmoments later. "

"You say that the ringing of the bell shows the person who rang thebell to have been unacquainted with the place. I think you must bewrong here. Spatola is acquainted with the place; he was here at thetime. This is proven by the scream of the frightened cockatoo whichfollowed the ringing of the bell. "

"It was not a cockatoo that made the sound, " said Ashton-Kirk. "Giveme a moment and I think I can convince you of that. "

The gas in the hall was lighted; the investigator stopped at the footof the stairs leading to the fourth floor. 

"Persons, " he continued, "who secretly enter buildings, as a rulenever trust to the lighting apparatus of the buildings. One reason forthis is that it is not under their control--another that they cannotcarry their light about with them. "

He pointed to the lowermost step of the flight; there, as before, werethe stump of candle, the burnt matches, the traces of tallow upon thewood. 

"There were two or more men concerned in this crime, " proceededAshton-Kirk, "and that is the method of lighting that they chose--acandle. "

"Two men! How do you know that?" asked Pendleton. 

"You shall see in a moment, " replied the investigator. Then hecontinued: "And the candle was used not only for illumination--itserved another purpose, and so supplied me with the first definiteinformation that my searching had given me up to that time. "

Pendleton looked at the discouraged little candle end, with its longblack wick, the two charred splinters of pine wood and the eccentrictrail of tallow droppings. Then he shook his head. 

"How you could get enlightenment from those things is beyond me, " hesaid. "But tell me what they indicated. "

"The candle and the match-sticks count for little, " said Ashton-Kirk. "It is the tracings of melted tallow that possess the secret. Lookclosely at them. At first glance they may seem the random drippings ofa carelessly held light. But a little study will show you a clearlydefined system contained in them. "

"Well, you might say there were three lines of it, " said Pendleton, after a moment's inspection. 

"Right, " said Ashton-Kirk. "Three lines there are, and each follows arow of tack heads. These latter were, apparently, once driven in tohold down a step-protector of some sort which has since become wornout and been removed. "

The speaker took a pad of paper and a pencil from his pocket. Acrossthe pad he drew three lines one under the other. Then with anotherglance at the candle droppings upon the step, he made a copy of themthat looked like this:

[Illustration: sketch of clue]

Pendleton bent over the result under the flare of the gas light; andas he looked his eyes widened. 

"Why, " cried he, "they look like a stenographer's word-signs. "

"Good!" said Ashton-Kirk. "And that, my dear fellow, is exactly whatthey are. There, scrawled erratically in dripping tallow, is a threeword sentence in Benn Pitman's phonetic characters. It is roughlydone, and may have occupied some minutes; but it is well done, and inexcellent German. I'll write it out for you. "

Then he wrote on the pad in big, plain Roman letters:

 HINTER WAYNE'S BILDNISSE

"There it is, " said the investigator, "done into the German language, line for line. Brush up your knowledge now; let me see you turn itinto English. "

Pendleton, whose German was rusty from long disuse, pondered over thethree words. Suddenly a light shot across his face; then his eyes werein a blaze. 

"_Behind Wayne's Portrait!_"

He fairly shouted the words. Astonishment filled him; he was tremblingwith excitement. 

"By Heaven, " he gasped, "you have it, Kirk. Now I understand thesmashing of the portraits of General Wayne. There was something ofvalue hidden behind one of them--between the picture and the back! Butwhat?"

"It was nothing of any great bulk; the hiding place indicated pointsthat out, surely, " said Ashton-Kirk, composedly. "A document of somesort, perhaps. "

Pendleton stood for a moment, lost in the wonder of the revelation;then his mind began to work once more. 

"But I can't understand the writing of the thing upon the step, " saidhe. 

"It was the fact that it was written that proved to me that there wereat least two men concerned. One knew the hiding place of the covetedobject; and this is how he conveyed the information to his companion, "pointing to the step. 

"But, " protested Pendleton, "why did he not put it into words? Surelyit would have been much easier?"

"Not for this particular person. As it happens, he was a mute. "

Again Pendleton's eyes opened widely; then recollection came to himand he said:

"It was Locke--the man concerning whom you were making inquiries ofthe railroad conductor!"

Ashton-Kirk nodded, and replied. 

"And it was he who shrieked when the door of the showroom opened. Theout-cry of a deaf-mute, if you have ever heard one, has the samesquawking, senseless sound as that of a psittaceous bird like theparrot or cockatoo. "

"But, " said Pendleton, "the fact that the man who scrawled these signsupon the step _was_ a deaf-mute, scarcely justifies the eccentricityof the thing. Why did he not use a pencil, as you have done?"

"I can't say exactly, of course. But did it never happen that you werewithout a pencil at a time when you needed one rather urgently?"

"This thing has sort of knocked me off my balance, I suppose, " saidPendleton, rather bewildered. "Don't expect too much of me, Kirk. " Hestuffed his hands in his pockets dejectedly and continued: "You nowtell me that this man was a mute. Yesterday you said he was small, that he was near-sighted, that he was well dressed and knew somethingof the modern German dramatists. You also told the conductor that hewore thick glasses and a silk hat. Now, I suppose I'm all kinds of anidiot for not understanding how you know these things about a man younever saw. But I confess it candidly; I _don't_ understand. "

"It all belongs to my method of work, " said Ashton-Kirk. "It's simpleenough when you go about it the right way. I have already given you myreasons for thinking the man who did this, " pointing to the step, "tobe a mute. I judged that he was of small stature because he chose thebottom step upon which to trace his word signs. Even an ordinary sizedman would have selected one higher up. "

"All right, " said Pendleton. "That looks good to me, so far. "

"The deductions that he was well dressed and also near-sighted werefrom the one source. His hat fell off while he was tracing the signs;that showed me that he was forced to stoop very close to his work inorder to see what he was about. You see that, don't you?"

"How did you know his hat fell off?" asked Pendleton, incredulously. 

"Mrs. Dwyer is evidently paid to clean only the hall and lowerstairway, " replied Ashton-Kirk, composedly. "And that she sticksclosely to that arrangement is shown by the condition of this upperflight. The dust upon the step is rather thick. If you will notice, "and he indicated a place on the second step, "here is a spot where around, flat object rested. That this object was a silk hat ispositive. You can see the sharp impress of the nap in the dust; hereis the curl in the exact center of the crown as seen in silk hatsonly. And men who wear silk hats are usually well-dressed men. "

"But how can you be at all sure that the hat fell off? Isn't itpossible that he took it off and laid it there?"

"Possible--yes--but scarcely probable. A well-dressed man is so frominstinct. And his instinctive neatness would hardly permit him to puthis well-kept hat down in the dust. "

"Go on, " said Pendleton. 

"The stairs have been used since the hat fell there; but the dust hasnot been disturbed. There is a hand-rail on the other side of theflight, and consequently, all went up and down on that side. "

"I can understand the thick glasses, " said Pendleton, "his beingnear-sighted suggested those. But what made you think he cared for themodern German dramatists?"

"That was a hazard, merely, " and the investigator laughed. 

"He knew German and was apparently a man of intelligence. No man whocombines these two things can fail of admiration of Hauptmann, Sudermann and their brothers of the pen. And then a mute who knewshorthand well enough to have such ready recourse to it, struck me asbeing unusual. They all know the digital sign language; but German andphonography classed him as one above the ordinary. This knowledgebrought the suggestion of an institution. Then came the suggestionthat he might be an instructor in such an institution. The fragmentfrom the railroad ticket hinted that the institution might be out oftown. Fuller's research placed two such institutions. The ticketcounter at the railroad office narrowed it down to one. The conductorof the train all but put his hand on the man. "

There was a short silence. Then Pendleton drew a long breath. 

"Well, Kirk, " said he. "I don't mind admitting that you have mewinging. I'll tell you now it's clever; but if I can think of astronger word later, I'll work it in instead. "

"We have a pretty positive line on one of the criminals, and we willnow turn to the other, " said the investigator, briskly. "It was thisother who committed the murder. The infirmities of Locke, the mute, made it impossible for him to venture into the rooms. The risks for adeaf and short-sighted man would be too great. Danger might creep uponhim and he neither hear nor see it. For some reason which I have notyet discovered, but it may have been distrust, he had not informed hisconfederate as to the whereabouts of the object of their entrance. When they got as far as this hall, he concluded to do so; but asneither man had a pencil, he conveyed the information as shown; thenthe confederate entered Hume's apartments by the door which Mrs. Dwyer found open. This, by an oversight, may have been left unlocked, or the criminals may have had a key. However, that does not affect thecase one way or another. 

"It is my opinion that Hume was seated at his desk at this time andheard the intruder enter the storage room; then pushing back his chairas we saw it, he arose. The criminal, however, sprang upon and struckhim so expertly that he collapsed without a sound. Then the bayonetcame into play. 

"A search followed for the thing desired--a search, short, sharp andsavage. The murderer either found what he sought, or the footsteps ofMiss Vale upon the stairs frightened him. At any rate he pulled openthe showroom door--the one with the gong; Locke, still in the hall, screamed and both fled up these stairs to the roof and away. "

Pendleton had waited patiently until his friend finished. Then hesaid, with a twinkle in his eye:

"You say the murderer opened the show room door, the gong rang andthen Locke screamed. Now, old chap, that's not possible. If Locke isdeaf, he couldn't hear the gong; and so there would be no occasion forhim to cry out. "

"I think if you'll go back over what I've really said, " spokeAshton-Kirk, "you will find that I have made no mention of Lockecrying out because of the gong. I said the murderer opened the doorthat has the gong. Then Locke screamed, not because he heard anything, but because of the sight he saw. "

"Ah!"

"He caught a glimpse of Hume upon the floor--as we saw him. "

"You think, then, that Locke's intentions were not murder?"

"At the present time I am led to think so. The confederate either wasforced to kill to save himself, or he had nursed a private scheme ofrevenge. And the ferocity of the blow with the bayonet inclines me toprefer the latter as a theory. "

"That brings us back to both Morris and Spatola, " said Pendleton, gravely. "By all accounts both bore Hume a bitter grudge. But the factthat both criminals escaped by the roof shows familiarity with theneighborhood, as Miss Vale pointed out to you. This seems to point toSpatola. "

"So does the purchase of the bayonet, and in the same indefinitefashion, " said Ashton-Kirk. "But come, we motored to Christie Placemore to inquire about this same Italian than anything else. So let'sset about it. "

They thanked the policeman in charge and left the building. As theyproceeded down the street toward the house in which the newspapers hadinformed them Spatola lived, the investigator paused suddenly. 

"I think, " said he, "it would be best for us to first see Spatolahimself, and ask a few questions. This might give us the proper pointof view for the remainder. "

And so they once more got into the car; and away they sped toward theplace where the violinist was confined. 

CHAPTER XII

ANTONIO SPATOLA APPEARS

Ashton-Kirk and Pendleton were admitted to the cell room at the CityHall without question; but a distinct surprise awaited them there. Through a private door leading from the detectives' quarters they sawthe bulky form of Osborne emerge; and at his heels were Bernstine andhis sandy-haired clerk. 

When Osborne caught sight of Ashton-Kirk he expanded into a wide smileof satisfaction. 

"Hello!" greeted he. "Glad to see you. You're just in time to see meturn a new trick. Here's the people that Spatola bought the bayonetfrom. How does that strike you?"

But Bernstine leaned over and said something in a low tone; and thesmile instantly departed. 

"Oh, " said Osborne, ruefully, "_this_ is the party who called to seeyou, is it?" Then turning to Ashton-Kirk he asked: "How did you getonto this bayonet business?"

"Just through thinking it over a little, that's all, " answered theinvestigator. 

Mr. Bernstine now approached the speaker, a hurt look upon his face. 

"Mr. Ashton-Kirk, " said he, "why did you not tell us about this pieceof business? Why did you not enlighten us? How _could_ you go away andleave us in the dark? We are very much occupied, and have little timeto look at the newspapers. It was only by accident that Sime happenedto see one. " Lowering his voice, he added: "There's a smart fellow foryou; he saw the whole thing in an instant. And so we came right hereto do what we can to help justice. " He squared his shouldersimportantly. 

"He's seen the bayonet and is prepared to swear to it, " statedOsborne, elated. 

"What of the picture of Spatola in the paper?" asked the investigator. "Does he recognize that?"

Osborne's face fell once more. 

"These half-tones done through coarse screens are never any good, "said he. "They'd make Gladstone look like Pontius Pilate. He's goingto have a look at the man himself, and that'll settle it. "

With that a turnkey was dispatched; and in a few moments he returned, accompanied by a half dozen prisoners; one was a slim, dark young manwith a nervous, expressive look, and a great tangle of curling blackhair. The face was haggard and drawn; the eyes were frightened; thewhole manner of the man had a piteous appeal. 

Osborne turned to Sime. 

"Look them over carefully, " directed he. "Take your time. "

"I don't need to, " answered the freckled shipping clerk. He pointed tothe dark young man. "That's the man of the picture; but I never seenhim before, anywhere. "

Osborne put his fingers under his collar and pulled as though tobreathe more freely; then he motioned another attendant to take theremaining prisoners away. 

"I see, " said he. "He was too foxy to buy the thing himself. He sentsomeone else. " Then he fixed his eye on the prisoner and continued:"We've got the bayonet on you; so you might as well tell us all aboutit. "

"I don't understand, " said Spatola, anxiously. 

"The easier you make it for us, the easier it will be for you, "Osborne told him. "If you make us sweat, fitting this thing to you, we'll give you the limit. Don't forget that. "

"I have done nothing, " said Spatola, earnestly. "I have done nothing. And yet you keep me here. Is there not a law?"

"There is, " said Osborne, grimly. "That's what I'm trying to tell youabout. Now, who bought the bayonet?"

"The bayonet?" Spatola stared. 

"The bayonet that Hume was killed with. "

With a truly Latin gesture of despair, the Italian put his hands tohis forehead. 

"Always Hume, " he said. "Always Hume! I can not be free of him. He wasevil!" in a sort of shrill whisper. "Even when he is dead, I am mockedby him. He was all evil! I believe he was a devil!"

"That was no reason why you should kill him, " said Osborne in thepositive manner of the third degree. 

"I did not kill him, " protested Spatola. "There were many times whenit was in my heart to do so. But I did not do it!"

"I've heard you say all that before, " stated Osborne, wearily. Then tothe turnkey: "Take him away, Curtis. "

"Just a moment, " interposed Ashton-Kirk. "I came here to have a fewwords with this prisoner, and by your leave, I'll speak to him now. "

"All right, " replied Osborne. "Help yourself. "

He led Bernstine and Sime out of the cell room; the turnkey, withprofessional courtesy, moved away to a safe distance, and Ashton-Kirkturned to the Italian. 

"You were once first violin with Karlson, " said he. "I remember youwell. I always admired your art. "

An eager look came into the prisoner's face. 

"I thank you, " he said. "It is not many who will remember in me a manwho once did worthy things. I am young, " with despair, "yet how I havesunken. "

"It is something of a drop, " admitted Ashton-Kirk. "From a position offirst violin with Karlson to that of a street musician. How did ithappen?"

Sadly the young Italian tapped his forehead with one long finger. 

"The fault, " he declared, "is here. I have not the--what do you callit--sense? What happened with Karlson happened a dozen timesbefore--in Italy, in France, in Spain. I have not the good sense!"

But justification came into his eyes, and his hands began togesticulate eloquently. 

"Karlson is a Swede, " with contempt. "The Swedes know the science ofmusic; but they are hard; they are seldom artists; they cannotexpress. And when one of this nation--a man with the ice of hiscountry in his soul--tried to instruct me how to play the warm musicof my own Italy, I called him a fool!"

"I see, " said the investigator. 

"I am to blame, " said Spatola, contritely. "But I could not help it. He _was_ a fool, and fools seldom like to hear the truth. "

"The Germans, now, " said Ashton-Kirk, insinuatingly, "are somewhatdifferent from the Swedes. Were you ever employed under a Germanconductor?"

"Twice, " replied the violinist, with a shrug. "Nobody can deny the artof the Germans. But they have their faults. They say they know theviolin. And they do; but the Italian has taught them. The violinbelongs to Italy. It was the glory of Cremona, was it not? The tenderhands of the Amatis, of Josef Guarnerius, of old Antonio Stradivari, placed a soul within the wooden box; and that soul is the soul ofItaly!"

"Haupt, a German, wrote a treatise on the violin, " said Ashton-Kirk. "If you would read that--"

"I have read it, " cried Spatola. "I have read it! It is like that, "and he snapped his fingers impatiently. 

"But you've probably read a translation in the English or Italian, "insisted the investigator, smoothly. "And all translations losesomething of their vitality, you know. "

"I have read it in the German, " declared the Italian; "in his ownlanguage, just as he wrote it. It is nothing. "

Pendleton looked at Ashton-Kirk admiringly; the manner in which hisfriend had established the fact that Spatola knew the German languageseemed to him very clever. But Ashton-Kirk made no sign other thanthat of interest in the subject upon which they talked. 

"A race that has given the world such musicians as Wagner, Beethovenand Mozart, " said he, "must possess in a tremendous degree the musicalsense. The German knowledge of tone and its combinations isextraordinary; and their music in turn is as complex as theirpsychology and as simple as the improvisation of a child. "

Spatola seemed surprised at this apparent warmth; he looked atAshton-Kirk questioningly. 

"And, with all their scholarship, the Germans are so practical, " wenton the latter. "Only the other day I came upon a booklet published inLeipzig that dealt with the difficulty a composer sometimes encountersin getting the notes on paper when a melody sweeps through his brain. The writer claimed that the world had lost thousands of inspirationsbecause of this, and to prevent further loss, he proffered aninvention--a system of--so to speak--musical shorthand. "

A sullen look of suspicion came into Spatola's face; he regarded thespeaker from under lowered brows. 

"Perhaps you don't quite understand the value of such an invention, "proceeded Ashton-Kirk. "But if you had a knowledge of stenography, andthe short cuts it--"

But the Italian interrupted him brusquely. 

"I know nothing of such things, " said he, "and what is more I don'twant to know anything of them. " Then in a sharp, angry tone, he added:"What do you want of me? I am not acquainted with you. Why am Iannoyed like this? Is it always to be so--first one and then another?"

At this sudden display of resentment, the turnkey approached. 

"I will go back to my cell, " Spatola told him, "and please do notbring me out again. My nerves are bad. I have been worried much oflate and I can't stand it. "

The turnkey looked at Ashton-Kirk, who nodded his head. And, asSpatola was led gesticulating away, Pendleton said in a low tone ofconviction:

"I tell you, Kirk, there's your man. Besides the other things againsthim, he knows German. "

"But what of the phonographic signs?"

"He knows them also. His manner proved it. As soon as you mentionedshorthand he became suspicious and showed uneasiness and anger. I tellyou again, " with an air, of finality, "he's your man. "

CHAPTER XIII

A NEW LIGHT ON ALLAN MORRIS

From the City Hall the car headed for Christie Place once more; ithalted some half dozen doors from Hume's and the occupants got out. 

The first floor was used by a dealer in second-hand machinery, but atone side was a long, dingy entry with a rickety, twisting flight ofstairs at the end. Ashton-Kirk rang the bell here, and while theywaited a man who had been seated in the open door of the machine shopgot up and approached them. 

He wore blue overalls and a jumper liberally discolored by plumbagoand other lubricants; a short wooden pipe was held between his teeth, and a cloth cap sat upon the back of his head. 

"Looking up the Dago?" asked he with a grin. He jerked a dirty thumbtoward the stairs. 

Ashton-Kirk nodded; the man took the wooden pipe from his mouth, blewout a jet of strong-smelling smoke and said:

"I knowed he'd put a knife or something into somebody, some day. Thesepeople with bad tempers ought to be chained up short. "

"Do you know him well?" inquired the investigator. 

"Been acquainted with him ever since he's been living here--and that'sgoing on three years. "

"Did he have many visitors, do you know?"

The man in the cloth cap pulled at his pipe reflectively. 

"I can't just say, " he replied. "But I've been thinking--" he pausedhere and examined both young men questioningly. Then he asked: "You'redetectives, ain't you?"

"Something of that sort, " replied Ashton-Kirk. 

The man grinned at this. 

"Oh, all right, " said he. "You don't have to come out flat with it ifyou don't want to. I ain't one of the kind that you've got to hit witha mallet to make them catch on to a thing. " Here the wooden pipeseemed to clog; he took a straw from behind his ear and began clearingthe stem carefully. At the same time he added: "As I was saying, I'vebeen thinking. "

"That, " said Ashton-Kirk, giving another tug at the unanswered bell, "is very commendable. "

"And queer enough, it's been about visitors--here, " and the manpointed with the straw toward the doorway. "Funny kind of people too, for a house like this. "

"Take a cigar, " said Ashton-Kirk. "That pipe seems out of commission. "Then, as the man put the pipe away in the pocket of his jumper andlighted the proffered cigar, he added: "What do you mean by 'funnykind of people?'"

The cigar well lighted, the man in the overalls drew at it with gentlerelish. 

"There's a good many kinds of funny people, " said he. "Some of themyou laugh at, and others you don't. These that I mean are the kind youdon't. Now, Mrs. Marx, the woman that keeps this place, is all rightin her way, but it ain't no swell place at that. Her lodgers aremostly fellows that canvass for different kinds of things; they wearshiny coats and their shoes are mostly run down at the heels. So whenI see swell business looking guys coming here I got to wondering whothey were. That's only natural, ain't it?"

Ashton-Kirk nodded, but before he could reply in words there came aclatter upon the rickety stairs at the far end of the entry. A thin, slipshod woman with untidy hair and a sharp face paused on the lowerstep and looked out at them. 

"What do you want?" she demanded, shrilly. 

Ashton-Kirk, followed by Pendleton, stepped inside and advanced downthe entry. 

"Are you Mrs. Marx?" he inquired. 

"Yes, " snapped the woman. "What do you want?"

"A little information. "

"You're a reporter!" accused the sharp-faced woman. "And let me tellyou that I don't want nothing more to say to no reporters. "

But Ashton-Kirk soothingly denied the accusation. 

"I dare say you've been bothered to death by newspaper men, " spoke he. "But we assure you that--"

"It don't make no difference, " stated the woman, rearing her headuntil her long chin pointed straight at them. "I ain't got nothing tosay to nobody. I don't want to get into no trouble. "

"The only way you can possibly get into trouble in this matter, " saidthe investigator, "is to conceal what you know. An attempt to hidefacts is always considered by the police as a sort of admission ofcomplicity. "

The woman at this lifted a corner of a soiled apron and applied it toher eyes. 

"Things is come to a nice pass, " she said, vainly endeavoring tosqueeze a tear from eyes to which such things had long been strangers, "when a respectable woman can't mind her own business in her ownhouse. "

At this point, Pendleton, who looked discreetly away, caught therustle of a crisp bill; and when Mrs. Marx spoke again, her tone hadundergone a decided change. 

"But of course, " she said, "if the law asks me anything, I must dothe best I can. I've kept a rooming house for a good many years now, gentlemen, and this is the first time I have had any notoriety. It is, I assure you. "

As Ashton-Kirk had seen at a second glance, Mrs. Marx was a lady fullycompetent to confront any situation that might arise; so he wasted notime in soothing her injured feelings. 

"We desire any information that you can give us regarding your lodger, Antonio Spatola, " said he. "Tell us all you know about him. "

"He wasn't a bad-hearted young man, " said the landlady, "but for allthat I wish I'd never seen him. If I hadn't then I'd never had thisdisgrace come on me. "

Here she made another effort with the corner of her apron; but it waseven more unsuccessful than the first. She gave it up and went onacidly. 

"Mr. Spatola came here almost three years ago. He was engaged in oneof the vaudeville theaters near here--in the orchestra--and he rentedmy second story front at six dollars a week. Except for the fact thathe _would_ play awfully shivery music at all hours of the night, I wasglad to have him. He was quiet and polite; he paid regularly and, "smoothing back the untidy hair, "he gave a kind of tone to the house. 

"But then he lost his position. Had a fight, I understand, withsomebody. For a long time he had no work; he moved from the secondstory-front at six dollars a week into the attic at two. When he couldget no place, he went on the street and played; afterwards he got thetrained birds. I didn't like this much. It didn't do the house no goodto have a street fiddler living in it; and then the birds were aregular nuisance with their noise. But he paid regular, and after awhile he took to keeping the birds in a box in the loft, so I put upwith it. "

"We'll look at his room, if you please, " said the investigator. 

Complainingly, the woman led the way up the infirm staircase. At thefourth floor she pushed open a door and showed them into a longloft-like room with high ceiling and mansard windows. There came asquawking and fluttering from somewhere above as they entered. 

"Them's the cockatoos, " said the landlady. "They miss Mr. Spatola verymuch. When I go to feed them with the stale bread and seed he has herefor them, would you believe it, they'll hardly eat a thing. "

The room was without a floor covering. Upon some rough shelves, nailedto the wall, were heaps of music. A violin case also lay there. Therewere a few chairs, a cot-bed, and a neat pile of books upon a table. Ashton-Kirk ran over these quickly; they were mostly upon musicalsubjects, and in Italian. But some were Spanish, English, German andFrench. 

"He was the greatest hand for talking and reading languages, " saidMrs. Marx, wonderingly. "I don't think there was any kind of anationality that he couldn't converse with. Mr. Sagon that lives onthe floor below says that his French was elegant, and Mr. Hertz, myparlor lodger, used to just love to talk German with him. He said hisGerman was so _high_. "

Ashton-Kirk opened the violin case and looked at the instrumentwithin. 

"Spatola always carried his violin in this when he went out, Isuppose?" he said, inquiringly. 

"Oh, yes; _that_ one he did. But the one on the wall there, " pointingto a second instrument hanging from a peg, "he never took much care ofthat. It's the one he played on the street, you see. "

Her visitors followed the gesture with interest. 

"That was just to clinch a point I made with Fuller this morning, "said the investigator to Pendleton, in explanation. Then to Mrs. Marxhe continued: "Mr. Spatola had visitors from time to time, had henot?"

But the woman shook her head. 

"Sometimes he had a pupil who came in the evening. But they never camemore than once or twice; he generally called them thick-heads aftera little, and told them they'd better go back to the grocery orbutcher's shop where they belonged. "

"Are you quite sure that no one else ever called upon him?"

The woman nodded positively. 

"I'm certain sure of it, " she said. "I remember saying more than onceto my gentlemen on the different floors, that Mr. Spatola must beawfully lonely sometimes. Mr. Crawford would often come up here andsmoke with him and play a game or two of Pedro. Mr. Hertz tried it acouple of times; but him and Mr. Spatola couldn't hit it very well. "

"How many lodgers have you?"

"I have rooms for nine. Just now there are seven. But only four aresteadies--Mr. Hertz, Mr. Crawford, Mr. Sagon and Mr. Spatola. Mr. Hertz is an inspector of the people who canvass for the citydirectory; he took the parlor after Mr. Spatola gave it up. He drinksa little, but he's a perfect gentleman for all that. Mr. Crawford is atraveling man, and is seldom home; but he pays in advance, so I don'tnever worry about him. Mr. Sagon is what they call an expert. He can'tspeak much English yet, but sometimes even the government, " in an awedtone, "sends for him to come to the customs house to tell them howmuch diamonds are worth, that people bring in. He works for BaumBrothers and Wright. The others, " bulking them as being of noconsequence, "are all gentlemen who are employed on the directoryunder Mr. Hertz. "

"Have you any Italian lodgers other than Mr. Spatola?"

The woman shook her head. 

"No, " she said, "and I don't want none, if this is the way they carryon. "

"Are there any other rooming houses in the street?"

"No, sir. It's only a block long, and I know every house in it. I'mthe only one as takes lodgers. "

"Are there any Italians in business in the block, or employed in anyof the business places?"

Mrs. Marx again shook her head positively. 

"Not any. "

"You speak of a Mr. Sagon. Of what nationality is he?"

"Oh, he's French, but he's lived a long time in Antwerp. That's wherehe learned the diamond business. And he must have lived in otherplaces in Europe; Mr. Spatola says he has spoken of them often. "

Just then there came from below the sound of a heavy voice, singing. The words were French and the intonation here and there was strange toAshton-Kirk. 

"Who is that?" he asked. 

"It's Mr. Sagon, " replied the woman. "He's the greatest one forsinging them little French songs. "

"Ah, I have it, " said Ashton-Kirk, after a moment. "He's a Basque, ofcourse. I couldn't place that accent at first. "

A narrow, ladder-like flight of stairs was upon one side. Ashton-Kirkmounted these and found himself in a smaller loft; a number ofwell-kept cockatoos, in cages, set up a harsh screaming at sight ofhim. Opening a low door he stepped out upon a tin roof. Mrs. Marx andPendleton had followed him, and the former said:

"The police was up here looking. They said Mr. Spatola came throughthe trap-door at Hume's place that night and walked along the roofsand so down to his own room. "

"That would he very easily done, " answered Ashton-Kirk, as his eyetook in the level stretch of roofs. 

After a little more questioning to make sure that the landlady hadmissed nothing, they thanked her and left the house. At his door theysaw the man in the cloth cap and overalls. A second and very unwieldyman, with a flushed, unhealthy looking face, had just stopped to speakto him. 

He supported himself with one hand on the wall. 

"Hello!" called the machinist to Ashton-Kirk; and as the twoapproached him, he said to the unwieldy man: "I stopped you to tellyou these gents had gone in. They're detectives. "

"Oh, " said the man, with interest in his wavering eye. "That so. " Heregarded the two young men uncertainly for a moment; and then asked:"Did Mrs. Marx tell you anything?"

"She didn't seem to know much, " answered the investigator. 

The unwieldy man swayed to and fro, an expression of cunning gatheringin his face. The machinist winked and whispered to Pendleton:

"I don't know his name, but he's one of the lodgers. "

"Marx, " declared the unwieldy man, "is a fine lady. But, " with anelaborate wink, "she knows more'n she tells sometimes. " The waveringeye tried to fix the investigator, but failed signally. "It don't do, "he added wisely, "to tell everything you know. "

Ashton-Kirk agreed to this. 

"Marx could tell you something, maybe, " said the man. "And then maybeshe couldn't. But, I know _I_ could give you a few hints if I had themind--and maybe they'd be valuable hints, too. " Here he drew himselfup with much dignity and attempted to throw out his chest. "I'm agentleman, " he declared. "My name's Hertz. And being a gentleman, Ialways try and conduct myself like one. But that's more'n some otherpeople in Marx's household does. "

"Yes?"

"Yes, sir. When a gentleman tries to be friendly, I meets himhalf-way. But that fellow, " and he shook a remonstrating finger atthe door of the lodging-house, "thinks himself better'n other people. And mind you, " with a leer, "maybe he's not as good. "

"Who do you mean--the Dago?" asked the machinist. 

"No; I mean Crawford. A salesman, eh?" The speaker made a gesture asthough pushing something from him with contempt. "Fudge! Travels, doeshe? Rot! He can't fool me. And then, " with energy, "what did he usedto do so much in Spatola's garret, eh? What did they talk about somuch on the quiet? I ain't saying nothing about nobody, mind you. I'ma gentleman. My name's Hertz. I don't want to get nobody into trouble. But if Crawford was such a swell as not to want to speak to agentleman in public, why did he hold so many pow-wows in private withSpatola? That's what I want to know. "

Seeing that the man's befogged intellect would be likely to carry himon in this strain for an indefinite time, Ashton-Kirk and Pendletonwere about to move on. But they had not gone more than a few yardswhen the investigator paused as though struck with an idea. He steppedback once more and drew a photograph from his pocket. 

"Do you know who this is?" he asked, abruptly, holding it up. 

The unwieldy man swayed gently and waveringly regarded the portrait. 

"Sure!" said he surprisedly, "it's Crawford. "

Ashton-Kirk rejoined his friend; and as they made their way to thewaiting automobile, the latter said;

"That is a step ahead of me, Kirk, I think. Where did you get aportrait of this man Crawford?"

By way of an answer the investigator held up the photograph once more. Pendleton gave a gasp of amazement. 

"Allan Morris, " said he. "_Allan Morris, by George!_"

CHAPTER XIV

MISS VALE UNEXPECTEDLY APPEARS

Edouard, Ashton-Kirk's cook, was astonished and somewhat grieved thatday to receive orders that dinner was to be served an hour earlierthan usual. And Stumph, grave and immobile, was betrayed into anexpression of astonishment when his master and guest sat down to thesame dinner in their work-a-day attire. 

And at best Edouard's delicate art that day received but scantattention. Stumph could hardly conceive of a more important thing thanthe proper and gentlemanly eating of one's dinner. Nevertheless otherthings engaged the attention of the two young men; they talkedearnestly and in incomprehensible terms; mysterious allusions weresprinkled thickly through it all. 

"I do not think, " Stumph told the mortified Edouard in the kitchen, "that Mr. Pendleton has tasted the flavor of a single thing he haseaten. He listens to Mr. Ashton-Kirk talk; he is surprised ateverything that he is told; there is a trembling in his hands, he isso eager. No, I don't know what it's about. But then, I never knowwhat Mr. Ashton-Kirk is about. He is a very remarkable gentleman. "

And no sooner was the dinner completed than Ashton-Kirk's big Frenchcar was brought to the door and both young men got into it. 

"You've looked up the road to Cordova?" inquired Ashton-Kirk of thechauffeur. 

"Yes, sir, " answered the man. "Very good road and almost parallel withthe railroad. No trouble getting there by dark. "

"All right. Get there as soon as you can. "

They cut into a broad asphalted avenue, which eventually led themthrough the north suburbs into the country. The April dusk wassettling upon the fields as they raced along; in the isolated houses, lights were beginning to twinkle; there was a swaying among the treesand roadside bush; the hum of the flying car must have been borne longdistances; for far away people raised their heads from the finishingtasks of the day to look at it as it flashed by. 

Pendleton lay back comfortably digesting his dinner, and ticking offin his mind the case which engrossed him so much. 

"It all tapers down to this, " he said to himself. "Hume was murderedby Locke and a confederate in order that they might gain possession ofsomething, the nature of which is unknown. Kirk is confident of Locke;I think he'd even go so far as to give him into custody, if he hadthe tangible proofs that the police require. 

"But he lacks enthusiasm in the matter of the confederate. To my mind, it's Spatola or Morris, or both. Both bore Hume no good will. Morrishas been spending at least part of his time with Spatola under anassumed name; they are known to have been very much engaged in somesecret matter. Both visited Hume's on the night of the murder. AnItalian purchased the weapon with which the deed was done. A Germansentence was written in shorthand by Locke for his confederate. Spatola admits he knows German; he grows suspicious when shorthand ismentioned. And to wind it up, Morris has not been seen at hisapartments, his office, or by his friends, since the murder wascommitted. "

At a little unpainted railroad station, the investigator broke in onPendleton's thoughts by calling on the chauffeur to stop. There werethe usual signboards on each side of the structure, announcing thatthe place was Cordova; and there was the usual knot of loungers thatare always to be found about such places watching with interest theincoming trains. 

Ashton-Kirk called to one of these. He was a lanky fellow in awide-brimmed hat and with a sheep-like look of complacency. 

"What's the best way to Dr. Mercer's place?" asked Ashton-Kirk. 

The lanky man reflected. 

"There's three or four ways of getting there, " he stated. "You can goup the pike and turn at Harbison's store; or you can turn down thelane along there a piece and go along until you come to--"

"Which is the nearest?"

"I ain't never passed no judgment on that; but I think the clay roaddown toward Plattville would get you there the quickest--if you didn'tget stuck in the ruts. "

"I think we'd better stick to the pike, " suggested Pendleton. 

"The pike's the best road, " said the lanky man. "All the people fromMercer's place use it when they drive here to the station. "

Once more the big French car, now with its lamps lighted, sped alongthe road; about a mile further on they came to the store referred toby the man as Harbison's. Here they received instructions as to how toproceed, by the store-keeper; and after running about four miles alongan indifferent wagon road, they caught the twinkle of many lights offin the middle of a wide clearing. 

"That must be it, " said the investigator. "We'll leave the car here;to flash up to the door in the quiet of the evening would attract moreattention than would be good for us, perhaps. "

It was now quite dark, but they found a gate a trifle farther on whichopened readily; and so they proceeded along a walk toward a buildingwhich lay blinking at them with its yellow eyes. A deep-throated dogscented them from off in the distance and gave tongue. As they drewnear to the institution they heard a man calling to the brute to bestill. A little further on the man himself suddenly appeared fromaround the corner of a building with a lantern; he flashed this intheir faces as he said:

"Well, sirs, this is against the rules. We have no visitors except onSaturdays; and then only within reasonable hours. "

"We would like to speak to Dr. Mercer, " said Ashton-Kirk. 

"Dr. Mercer is at dinner, " explained the man with the lantern. "Hedon't like it much if he's disturbed at such times. "

"We will wait until he has finished; we are in no great hurry. "

The man seemed puzzled as to how to act. With the light held aloft sothat not a feature escaped him, he examined them closely. Apparentlyhe could see nothing with which to find fault; and so he sighed in aperplexed fashion. 

"He does not care to have people wait for him, " complained the man. "He gets very angry if he is worried by such things while dining. "

"You need not announce us until he is through, " said Ashton-Kirk, composedly. 

The man hesitated; but finally resolved upon a course and led them upa flight of stone steps and into a wide hall. The night was raw and abrisk fire of pine knots burning in an old-fashioned hall fireplace, made the place very comfortable. 

"If you will be seated, gentlemen, " requested their guide, "I willtell Dr. Mercer of your presence as soon as he has finished. "

They seated themselves obligingly in a couple of low, heavy chairsnear the fire; and then the man left them. The hall was high andrather bare: the hardwood floor shone brilliantly under the lights;save for the faint murmur of voices from a near-by room, everythingwas still. 

"I should imagine that a place of this sort wouldn't be at all noisy, "observed Pendleton, in a heavy attempt at jocularity. 

Except for a word now and then, they waited in silence for a halfhour; then a door opened and steps were heard in the hall. Both turnedand saw a remarkably small man, perhaps well under five feet, dressedwith great care and walking with a quick nervous step. His head wasvery large and partly bald, rearing above his small frame like agreat, bare dome; he carried a silk hat in his hand, and peeredabstractedly through spectacles of remarkable thickness. 

"Locke, " breathed Pendleton, as his heart paused for a moment and thenwent on with a leap. 

The little man apparently did not see them until he was almost besidethem; then he paused with a start, and his eyes grew owlish behind themagnifying lenses as he strove to make them out. That he did notrecognize them seemed to worry him; his thin, gray face seemed to growgrayer and thinner; with a diffident little bow he passed on and outat the front door. 

"Not a very formidable looking criminal, " commented Ashton-Kirk, quietly. "However, you can seldom judge by appearances. The mostastonishing crime that ever came to my notice was perpetrated by themeekest and most conventional man I had ever seen. "

They waited for still another space, and then the man who had shownthem in presented himself. He was now without the lantern, but wore amelancholy look. 

"Dr. Mercer will see you, " said he in a low voice. "He is very muchvexed at being disturbed. He'll remember it against me for weeks. " Heappeared very much disturbed. 

Ashton-Kirk placed a coin in the speaker's hand; this seemed to havea bracing effect, for he led them into his employer's presence in abrighter frame of mind. Dr. Mercer was seated at the table in hisdining-room. A napkin was tucked in his collar, his fat hands werefolded across his stomach, and he was breathing heavily. 

"Gentlemen, " spoke he, rolling his eyes around to them, "I trust youwill pardon my not rising. But to exert myself after dining has a mostinjurious result sometimes. My digestion is painfully impaired; theslightest excitement causes me the utmost suffering. "

"I appreciate the fact that we are intruding at a most inconvenienttime, " said Ashton-Kirk. "And I beg of you to accept our apologies. "

The eyes of Dr. Mercer, which had the appearance of swimming in fat, were removed from his visitors, and fixed themselves longingly upon agreat dish filled with a steaming, heavy-looking pudding. His breathlabored in his chest as he replied:

"The hour _is_ somewhat unusual; but as it happens I have aboutfinished my dinner, and if your errand is not of a stirring nature, Ishould be pleased to have you state it. "

The man placed chairs in such a position that the doctor would nothave to stir to fully observe his visitors. This done he was about towithdraw; but his employer stopped him at the door. 

"Haines, " complained he, "you have not taken my order for breakfast. "

The man paused and seemed much abashed at his neglect. 

"I really beg your pardon, sir, " said he. And with that he produced apencil and a small book and stood ready. 

"I will have one of those trout that I purchased to-day, " directed thedoctor. "Let it be that large, fine one that I was so pleased with, "his swimming eyes ready to float out of his head with anticipation. "Then I would like some new-laid eggs, some hot cakes, and perhaps asmall piece of steak, if there is any that is tender and tasty. Andmind you, " in an nervous afterthought, "tell Mrs. Crane to have it butrarely done. I will not tolerate it dry and without flavor. " Hepondered awhile, apparently much moved by this painful possibility;then he added: "I may as well have a cereal to begin with, I suppose. And that will be all with the exception of a few slices from the coldroast and some white rolls. "

Carefully Haines had taken this down; and after he had read it over athis employer's order and noted a few alterations and additions, hedeparted. For a few moments the doctor's eyes were closed in expectantrapture; his breathing grew so stertorous that his callers werebecoming alarmed; but he spoke at last, reluctantly, resentfully. 

"I am now ready to hear you, gentlemen, if you please. And kindlyremember that I prohibit anything of an exciting nature at this time. "

"We have heard your school highly spoken of, " said Ashton-Kirk. "Andhave come to make some inquiries before making up our minds. "

"Ah, " breathed Dr. Mercer, solemnly, "you have an afflicted one. Toobad! Tut, tut, tut, too bad!"

"There are many institutions of the sort, " proceeded the investigator. "But for the most part they stop at the threshold, so to speak, ofknowledge. "

Dr. Mercer roused himself so far as to unclasp his hands and pointwith one finger at the speaker. 

"Sir, " said he, in a voice full of grave significance, "they seldomreach the threshold. A large majority of them are conducted bydishonest persons. Afflicted youth left in their charge are rarelyproperly directed--they rarely acquire that digital dexterity sonecessary to success in their limited lives. The isolated brain, so tocall it, is seldom more than half awakened. Unless it is intelligentlyapproached, the shadows are never thoroughly dispelled. "

Here he paused, panting distressedly; his eyes were filled withreproach as he relapsed into his first attitude; and his manner wasthat of one who mutely begged that no further tasks be thrust uponhim. 

"The difference in institutions of this type lies mainly in themethods employed, I believe, " said Ashton-Kirk. 

"In the methods--and in the persons who apply them, " replied Dr. Mercer in a smothered tone. 

"To be sure. I have heard something of your teaching staff. It is avery excellent one, is it not?"

"The best in the world. " The soft, fat, white hands of the doctoragain unclasped themselves; and this time both of them were employedin a faintly traced gesture. "We employ scientists. We do not stop atwhat you have correctly called the threshold. We explore the entirestructure of the intellect. Our Professor Locke, himself an afflictedone, is a man of vast erudition--a scholar of an advanced type, aphilosopher whose adventures into the field of psychology and naturalscience is widely known. He has charge of the practical work of theMercer Institute, and under him its results are positive and unique. "

"We have heard of Professor Locke, " and, drily, "have seen some of hiswork. "

"If you had stated your business before--ah--coming in to me, " spokethe doctor, "you might have had an opportunity of consulting him. Heleft for his cottage immediately after dining. "

"He does not live here, then?"

"Not in this building--no. There is a detached cottage at the far endof the grounds which he occupies. If you'd like to see him, " and theheavy jowls of the speaker trembled with eagerness, "Haines will showyou there at once. "

"If it is no trouble, " said Ashton-Kirk, smoothly. 

"Not in the least. " The doctor rang for his man, and when he entered, said: "These gentlemen would like to speak to Professor Locke. Showthem the way to his house. And, gentlemen, " to the callers, withanxiety, "the professor can arrange everything with you. It is myhabit to nod for a half hour after dinner. My system has grown toexpect it, and if I am deprived of it, I suffer considerably inconsequence. "

"We will not trouble you again, doctor, " Ashton-Kirk assured him. "Thank you, and good-night. "

Once more outside, the man led them along a foot-path that seemed tocut the institution grounds in two. The rays of his lantern dancedalong the carefully kept lawn; the shadowy trees seemed to movebackward and forward, as the thin beams wavered among them. 

"The professor lives a good piece away, " the man informed them. "Awayover on the county road. "

"Prefers to be alone, eh?"

"I suppose so, sir. And then he has his laboratory and work-shopthere, well away from interruption. He don't like to be much disturbedwhile he is engaged in his studies. "

"Few of us do, " said Pendleton. 

"Quite right, sir. "

They walked along in silence for a time; then they caught a clearhumming noise from some distance ahead. 

"A motor car, " said Pendleton. 

"It's on the county road, " said the man with the light. "We alwayshear them when the wind blows from that direction. "

After some fifteen minutes' steady walking they saw a long twinklingshaft of light coming from among the trees. 

"That's the house, " said Haines. "I hope the professor ain't busy; youwouldn't believe what a blowing up he can give a body with his fingerswhen he's vexed. I'd almost rather have the doctor himself; though, asa rule, the professor is a very nice gentleman. "

The house was a brick structure of two stories and dimly lighted onthe lower floor. Near by was a long, shed-like building, the windowsof which were brilliantly lighted. 

"He's at work, " said Haines, in a troubled tone. "And in the shop too!If it was even the laboratory, it wouldn't be so bad. But he _does_get so interested in the shop. That machine means more to him, whatever it is, than anything else about the place. "

There came a harsh burring sound from within both the shop and thehouse. Haines seemed surprised. 

"Visitors, " he said. "He seldom has one; and I never knew any to comeat night before. "

They saw the figure of Locke cross one of the shed windows toward adoor. And just then Ashton-Kirk stumbled rather heavily againstHaines; the lantern dropped to the ground and was extinguished. 

"I beg your pardon, " said the investigator in a rueful tone; then hebegan to rub his shins. "That was rather hard, whatever it was. "

The door of the building opened and Locke appeared; his great baldhead shone in the light that streamed after him; and it was thrustforward as he strove to penetrate the darkness ahead. 

"He feels the vibrations of those buzzers, " Haines told them, "andknows right away when anyone wants to get in. "

He began fumbling with the lantern as Locke disappeared; butAshton-Kirk said to him:

"You need not light that. We can see very well. And, on secondthought, you need not wait, either. We can introduce ourselves toProfessor Locke without troubling you further. "

"Thank you, sir, " said the man, vastly relieved. "They all have queerdispositions, you see, and I don't like to trouble them. "

At once Haines made his way back along the path by which they hadapproached; some distance away they saw him kindle his lantern, andthen watched the yellow spark as it glanced fitfully away across thegrounds. 

The cottage and work-shop of Professor Locke appeared to be set backsome little distance from what Haines had called the county road; agrove of tall trees thickened the shadows all about, and it was intothese trees that the professor had gone. 

"The buzzer must have the button that sounds it attached to a gateopening upon the road, " said Pendleton. 

They stood for a short time in silence; then Pendleton nudged hisfriend with an elbow. 

"Look, " he whispered. "There at the door of the shed. "

Ashton-Kirk did so. And he was just in time to see a large, iron-grayhead, a craggy, powerful face, and a pair of thick shoulders; theexpression and attitude were those of a man listening intently. Almostinstantly, as Ashton-Kirk's gaze fell upon him, the man withdrew. 

"Humph, " exclaimed Pendleton under his breath. "Who's that, I wonder?"

They waited for some time longer in silence. But the little man didnot return, nor did the head appear again at the shop door. Ashton-Kirk appeared puzzled. 

"Locke intended returning at once, " he said to Pendleton. "Otherwisehe would have closed his work-shop door. " Then his eyes wanderedtoward the house, and his grip closed tightly upon his companion'sarm. "Look, " whispered he, in his turn. 

Pendleton's gaze flew toward the house. The lower windows had beendimly lighted when they approached; but now the glow from them washigh and brilliant. In one of the rooms they saw Locke; he wasstriding up and down, his hands clinched and gesturing, his faceupturned, writhing hideously. Seated at a table, calmly engaged inexamining something traced upon a sheet of paper, and apparently notpaying the slightest attention to the gesticulating man, was a youngwoman. And Pendleton felt himself grow suddenly faint and sick as herecognized Edyth Vale. 

CHAPTER XV

MISS VALE DEPARTS SUDDENLY

For a moment there was a silence between the two men; then Ashton-Kirksaid, dryly:

"Miss Vale has, apparently, not been altogether frank with us in thismatter. "

"You think then--" began Pendleton in a voice of terror. ButAshton-Kirk stopped him. 

"I think many things, " said he. "But they are neither here nor there. Facts are what count. Put the circumstances together for yourself andsee where they lead you. Miss Vale has been from the first mixed upmore or less in this crime. She explained. As far as I knew theexplanation was made in good faith. Now we find her here in thislonely place, quietly engaged with a man whom I have convinced myselfis one of Hume's murderers. "

There was another pause; this time it was Pendleton who broke thesilence. 

"As you say, " spoke he, in a strange, throaty sort of tone, "she hasnot been quite frank. Take all the circumstances together and theyseem to point--"

He paused as though quite unable to finish. Ashton-Kirk laid a handupon his shoulder. 

"Imagination is a thing that is vitally necessary in this sort ofwork, " said he. "But it must be held in check by reason. The greattrouble with an amateur is that he reasons up to a certain point; thenhe allows his imagination to take a long leap toward a result. Theupshot is that his results have seldom anything to support them. Thecorrect method, I think, is to allow the imagination to scurry aheadin the way that is natural to it; but reason must follow close behind, proving each step of the way. To be sure, you may have theories, hypotheses, ideas without end, but you must never take them forgranted. Select each in its turn, place it in a tube as the chemistdoes, add a few drops of reason, and you may produce a fact. It is theonly way to go about it. Once a man becomes fixed in a belief, bethere ever so little foundation for it, his mind stops revolving thesubject; further procedure is hopeless. "

"I understand all that well enough, " said Pendleton. "But, " and hewaved his hand toward the house, "what does _this_ mean?"

"I don't know, " said Ashton-Kirk. "And neither do you. So--that beingthe case--there is but one thing to do--find out. "

They gazed toward the window once more, Miss Vale had apparentlymastered the contents of the paper, and was now engaged in writingrapidly. As the young men watched, she stopped, read carefully whatshe had written, and then handed it to Locke. The mute carried thepaper to the light, and holding it very near to his eyes read it withmuch attention; then he tore it into strips, placed it upon the redcoals of a stove which stood near him and watched it burn. Facing MissVale, his fingers began to fly rapidly in intricate signs. This onlylasted a moment, however; for he stopped, gestured passionately, seized a pad of paper and began to write. 

While he was thus engaged, Ashton-Kirk said to Pendleton in a lowtone:

"Remain here for a moment. "

Then slowly, carefully, the investigator made his way toward thewindow through which Miss Vale and Locke were to be seen. 

Heavy beams of light shot across the ground from the windows; but hereand there were trails of shadow. He clung to these until he hadreached the shelter of the walls; then to Pendleton's amazement hestepped directly in front of the window through which the two were tobe seen, rapped smartly upon the glass, and remained standing in fullview, of the two in the room. 

[Illustration: HE RAPPED SMARTLY ON THE WINDOW]

Pendleton saw the pad drop from Locke's hands; he saw the mute wheelas he felt the vibrations and stare at the window, his eyes puckeredand straining. He also saw Miss Vale rise, saw her hands thrown out ina gesture much like despair; and also he heard the cry that sheuttered, muffled by the confines of the room, but full of fear. Thenthe room was plunged into darkness; an instant later a door was heardto open; the sound of quick-moving feet came to him; there followedthe pulsations of a motor and the racing of a car away into the night. 

"She's off, " breathed the young man, and there was undoubted relief inthe knowledge. "She's off, and I really believe that's what Kirk wasafter. "

He walked toward the house and found his friend standing in theshadows. 

"Well, " chuckled the investigator, "it did not take her long to makeup her mind, eh?"

"You had some motive in doing that, " accused Pendleton. "What was it?"

Ashton-Kirk was about to reply; but just then the small figure ofLocke made its appearance. He carried a lantern and was approachingwith stumbling steps, his eyes peering and blinking in their effortsto pierce the gloom. Not until he was well upon the two did he makethem out; then he halted, lifted the light above his head and surveyedthem intently. 

In the rays of the lantern Ashton-Kirk smiled urbanely, and bowed. The supple fingers of the mute writhed inquiringly. 

"Each of them forms itself into a wild note of interrogation, " saidPendleton. "They are fairly screaming questions at you. "

Ashton-Kirk smiled even more agreeably at Locke and shook his head. Then he went through the pantomime of one writing, and finished bypointing to the house. 

Carefully, eagerly, fearfully, the mute examined them; hisnear-sighted eyes and the wavering light must have made it all butimpossible for him to make them out. However, he at length motionedfor them to follow him, and started back by the way which he had come. But after a few steps he halted. He indicated that they were to remainwhere they were; then he went to the shed-like building, closed thedoor and locked it, placing the key in his pocket. 

"It would seem, " observed Ashton-Kirk, "that we are not to be trustedimplicitly. "

"Also, " replied Pendleton, "that there is something of value in theshed. "

Returning, Locke led the way to a door upon the other side of thehouse. Showing them into a small room furnished with books andscientific apparatus and evidently a study, he set down the lanternand with a sign bade them be seated. Upon their doing so he produced asmall pad of paper and a pencil; handing these to Ashton-Kirk hestood peering at them expectantly. With the swift, accurate touch ofan expert, the investigator wrote in the Pitman shorthand:

"We ask pardon if we have startled you. "

Then he tore off the sheet and handed it to Professor Locke. The manseemed surprised at the medium selected by his visitor; neverthelesshe quickly traced the following in the same characters. 

"Who are you? What is your errand?"

"We were sent to you by Dr. Mercer, " replied Ashton-Kirk with flyingpencil. "Our business is to secure the admission of a new pupil. "

Locke read this and regarded them for a moment, doubtfully. 

"Why did you not press the button at the door?" he demanded inwriting. 

"I hardly expected you to have such a thing as a bell, " answeredAshton-Kirk, on the pad. "And so, seeing you, I attracted yourattention as best I could. "

Professor Locke read this and stood with his pencil poised, when thebuzzer sounded harshly; he went at once into the hall; they heard himopen the door; and in a few moments he returned, followed by Haines. 

The fingers of the two flashed their signals back and forth; then alook of relief came into Locke's face; he even smiled, and noddedunderstandingly at the two young men. 

"I beg pardon, gentlemen, " said Haines. "But when I got back to thehall, Dr. Mercer made me return and make sure that you had got to seethe Professor. "

"Thanks, " replied the investigator. "We had not the slightestdifficulty. "

"I'm glad to hear it, sir, " said the man. "Good-night to you. "

He flashed the same wish to the mute, who answered readily; then hewent out and through the window they saw his light again go bobbingaway in the darkness. Then the professor began to write once more. 

"I beg your pardon, " was his message in long-hand. "The man tells methat it was quite as you say. But I must confess I was a triflestartled. "

"The lady, " wrote Ashton-Kirk, "seemed startled, too. "

For the fraction of a moment the mute halted in his reply. Then thepencil with much assurance formed the following:

"It was my niece. She was about to go just as you came; so do notreproach yourself for having driven her away. "

For some time the penciled conversation continued between the two; butas it was all based upon the fanciful pupil whom the investigatorstated he desired to place in Dr. Mercer's care, Pendleton paid littleheed to it. At last, however, they bid the Professor good-by, and lefthim upon the threshold, his massive head nodding his adieus, his fraillittle body sharply outlined by the glow from the hall. 

The two had reached their own car around on the other road beforePendleton spoke. Then he inquired:

"Well, have you learned anything from him?"

"I think I can say 'yes' to that, " answered the other. "But I'm notyet sure. I'll have to put it to the proof first, according to theformula which I gave you a half hour ago. If it succeeds, I'll tellyou what it is; if it does not, I'll say nothing, and it will go uponthe scrap heap devoted to broken fancies. And now, Dixon, " to thechauffeur, "we'll go home. "

CHAPTER XVI

STEEL AGAINST STEEL

Shortly before noon next day, Ashton-Kirk, in an immaculate morningsuit, was ushered into the presence of Miss Edyth Vale. If he expectedconfusion, embarrassment or anything of that sort, he wasdisappointed; for she greeted him eagerly and with outstretched hand. 

"This is a surprise, " she said. 

He held her hand and looked meaningly at her. 

"My appearances _are_ sometimes surprising, " he said. "But I usuallyselect the night for them; the effect is better then, you see. "

She smiled into his eyes. 

"I have no doubt but that you are dreadfully mysterious, " she said. "But please sit down. "

She seated herself near the window; holding a book in her hand, shefluttered the leaves to and fro. 

"The composure, " thought the investigator, as he sat down, "issomewhat overdone. "

"I wonder, " said Miss Vale, looking at the book, "if you are anadmirer of Ibsen. " And as he nodded, she proceeded with a slightsmile. "I know that he is scarcely the usual thing for a springmorning. But there are times when I simply can't resist him. "

"He's a strong draught at any time, " said Ashton-Kirk. "But his tonicquality is undoubted. "

"His disciples claim that for him, at any rate, " she answered. "Butsometimes I question its truth. Where is the tonic effect of'Rosmersholm?' I think it full of terrors. " She shuddered and added:"The White Horses will haunt me for weeks. "

"It's the atmosphere of crime, " said he. "That quiet home on thewestern fiords reeks with it. "

She made a gesture of repulsion. 

"It's ghastly!" she exclaimed. "And, somehow, one feels it from thevery first--before a word is spoken. Imagine Rebecca at the window, watching through the plants to see if Rosmer uses the footbridge fromwhich his wife once leaped to her death. " She paused a moment, hereyes upon the open pages; then lifting her head, she asked: "What doyou think of Rebecca?"

"A tremendous character--of wonderful strength. It was just suchproud, dark, purposeful souls that Byron delighted to draw; but theonly one in literature to whom I can fully liken her is the wife ofMacbeth. There was the same ambition--the same ruthless will--the samedisregard of everything that stood in her way. And, like Cawdor'swife, she weakened in the end. "

She regarded him fixedly. 

"Would you call it weakness?" she asked. 

"She fell in love with Johannes, did she not? That was weakness--forher. She herself recognized it as such. "

The girl looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. 

"That is true, " she said. 

"Some of the world's most daring and accomplished criminals have beenwomen, " he went on. "But Nature never intended woman to be the bearerof burdens; there is a weakness in her soul structure somewhere; sheusually sinks under the consciousness of guilt. "

"More so than men, do you think?"

"As a rule--yes. "

She put down the book and clasped her hands in her lap. 

"There is no need to sympathize with Rebecca, " she said. "She wasbrave and strong, even in her love for Johannes. But he, " and therewas a note in her voice that recalled the night he had listened to itover the telephone, "he was different. There is no more dreadful thingin the play, to me, than the character of Rosmer. To think of himsitting quietly in that charnel house, prospering in soul, growingsleek in thought, becoming stored with high ideas. Perfect peace cameto him in spite of the stern-faced portraits which shrieked murderfrom the walls. He dreamed of freeing and ennobling mankind, and allthe time Fate was weaving a net about him that was to drag him fromthe mill bridge after his dead wife. "

"Kroll knew him, " said the investigator. "And he said Rosmer waseasily influenced. It is usually men of that type who are drawn intothe vortex which swirls at every door. "

Her face was a little pale; but she now arose with a laugh and beganrubbing her finger-tips with a handkerchief. 

"I think we'd better remove the dust of the Norwegian, " she said; "andI make a vow never to read him again--in the morning. " She stoodlooking down at her caller, good-humoredly and continued: "I supposeit is my fault, but you have a dreadfully gloomy expression. Ormaybe, " as an afterthought, "you ate an unwholesome dinner last night. Were you at the Perrings, by any chance?"

He shook his head, his keen eyes searching her face. 

"No, " said he, "I had much more important matters on hand. "

She held up her hand. 

"It was something about this Hume affair, " she said. 

"Yes, " he replied. 

The smile was now gone; she leaned back against a heavy table, herfingers tightly clasping its edge. 

"I have been trying to forget that dreadful thing, " she said. "I'vestopped looking at the papers, because I would be sure to see itmentioned. And, " with never a faltering in her eyes, "because I mightbe reminded of it in some other way, I now remain indoors. "

"Last night was an exception, perhaps, " suggested he, smoothly. 

"Last night?" There was a questioning look in her beautiful eyes; thefinely posed head with its crown of bright hair bent toward himinquiringly. 

An expression of chagrin crept into his face. 

"You were not out last night, then?" said he. 

"What makes you think so?" smilingly. "It was dreadfully dull here, too. But then, " with a shrug, "anything is better than a constantreminder of that Christie Place affair. "

He nodded understandingly. 

"I suppose it _is_ very distressing. " He frowned gloomily at the tipsof his shoes and she could see that he bit his lip with vexation. After a moment or two, he said: "It's very strange; but I was quitesure I saw you last night. "

"Yes?" Her tone was one of careless interest. 

"However, " he went on, "I had but a glimpse of the lady; and couldeasily have been mistaken. " He wore a baffled look, but smiled as hegot up. "And, " said he, "my visit of this morning was based upon thesight I fancied I had of you last night. "

She laughed amusedly. 

"It was something interesting, " she said. "Please tell me about--but, no, no, " hastily. "If it has anything to do with the Hume case, I'drather not hear it. "

She had pressed the bell call for the footman, when he said:

"Mr. Morris still keeps himself well concealed, I note. "

Like a tigress leaping to defend her young, she met the accusation. 

"Mr. Morris has done no wrong, " she declared, spiritedly. "And thereis no need of his concealing himself. "

"Of course I will not say as to that. " His voice was soothing and low. "But he makes a mistake in not coming forward. His name, you havenoticed, has already appeared in the papers in direct connection withthe murder. "

He glanced at her keenly once more. 

"It may be that he has gone away upon some urgent business, " she said. "And the chances are that he has not heard anything of the matter. "

"If he had gone away on business, don't you think he would havementioned it to someone?"

"Perhaps he did not think it necessary. And again, maybe he did notexpect to be gone so long. Such things frequently happen, you know. "

"They do, " admitted Ashton-Kirk. "But in the case of Allan Morris, they somehow fail to fit. I am convinced that he is in hiding. "

She regarded him steadily for a moment; then she said:

"You are convinced, you say?"

"I am. "

"May I ask upon what your conviction is based?"

"Not now--no. "

There was another pause; the man was at the door, ready to show theinvestigator out. 

"Perhaps, " and her tone was very low, "you even fancy that you knowhis hiding-place. "

"Not just yet, " said he, "but in a few hours at most, I will. "

Her lips formed the good-by as he stood in the doorway; but she madeno sound. And Ashton-Kirk as he walked down the hall, smiled quietlyto himself. 

CHAPTER XVII

WHAT HAPPENED ON THE ROAD

About half an hour after Ashton-Kirk had left the Vale mansion, aMaillard car drew up before the door. As it did so, an Italian laborerarose from the curb not far away where he had been comfortably seatedwith his back against a tree; then throwing his arms wide in aluxurious yawn, he started leisurely down the street. 

Five minutes later, a veiled, dust-coated female figure descended thestep; the driver of the Maillard was dismissed, and Miss Valecomposedly took his place at the wheel. As the car started forward, the gauntleted hands guided it firmly; the steady eyes were setstraight ahead as the lever was pushed first to one speed and thenanother. 

And as the rapid pulse of the motor was borne along the quiet avenue, the Italian laborer calmly appeared from around a corner, pushing apowerful-looking motor cycle before him. Another moment and themachine was sounding its wild fusillade; the Italian sped away in thesame direction as the Maillard, his battered soft hat set jauntilyupon the back of his head, his gay-colored neckkerchief streaming inthe wind. 

The car kept to the avenue for a long time; but finally in the farsuburbs it made a sharp turn to the left and a few miles further onshot into a broad highway that ran parallel with the railroad. 

Bending forward so as to offer the least resistance to the wind, theItalian's swarthy face relaxed at this; his fine white teeth showed ina smile. 

"Cordova, I think, " muttered he, in very good English. "If not, thensomewhere very near to it. "

Once upon the highway, which was hard, level and practically deserted, the Maillard increased its speed. Eddies of dust curled in its wake;its hum resembled that of a gigantic top; its shining brass and smoothgloss made it look like a streak of light. But the motor cycle was ofthe best; its compact, powerful mechanism answered bravely to eachcall that was made upon it by the dark-faced man in the saddle; itsexplosions had merged into one long volley. 

At a small and not very firm-looking bridge the Maillard slowed down;apparently for the first time Miss Vale heard the cycle in the rear, for she turned and gave it a quick look. But the dust of her ownprogress hung thickly in the air and she could not see very clearly. Passing the bridge at a low rate of speed, she turned again. The darkface of the rider, his battered hat and flying 'kerchief seemed tosatisfy her; for once more she gave attention to her course, and againthe car increased its speed. A mile or two further on there was arather broken stretch of road and she was forced to slow down. As thesound of her own vehicle diminished, she, as before, caught thevolleying of the motor cycle; and as she turned the eyes that lookedthrough the veil were intent and searching. 

This time she appeared not so well satisfied, for upon reaching theend of the broken stretch, she drew her car to one side and stopped. As the hammering explosions of the motor cycle grew plainer andplainer she sat rigidly erect upon her seat, her face turned directlyahead. But a close observer would have noted a slow movement of herright hand among the folds of the dust coat; and if he was also anexperienced observer he would have immediately understood that MissVale did not venture alone and unarmed upon the road. 

However, the Italian never even gave her a glance as he came up; hismachine flew by with a swirl, amid a crashing crescendo; then itdisappeared in the dust of the distance. 

But Miss Vale, when she once more resumed her journey, had not gonemuch more than a mile when she came upon the same swarthy son of thesouth and his vociferous machine. But the latter was now silentenough; it leaned against a fence, and its rider knelt beside it, awrench in his hand, testing its parts carefully and intently. 

The Maillard was less than a quarter of a mile away when Miss Valecaught the rapid series of explosions once more. With a quick glanceahead, she threw the lever forward and the car tore along at abreathless rate. Fences ran by in a giddy staggering line; treesseemed merged into one tangle of branches; the dust arose in solidtowers behind her. However, she held to this but a scant five minutes;her breath was short when she decreased the power; the hands upon thewheel shook a little, but her head was held erect, her face was stillpurposefully set forward. 

Above the decreasing hum of her car, came the swift, brave shocks ofthe motor cycle. But, if there was a dread that fell to tightening ather heart, she showed it little. The Maillard still bore swiftly on;she did not once turn her head. 

A little further on there came into view a post with a series ofwhite, pointing sign-boards, that indicated a cross-roads. When stilla hundred yards from this the car stopped once more; again the Italianflew by; again he vanished, this time around a bend beyond thecross-roads. But once hidden by the bend, he stopped and got down;the smile again appeared upon his face, the brilliant teeth shonegood-naturedly. 

"A simple little ruse, " he said to himself. "And one that I've seenused with effect more than once. Evidently Miss Vale has her witsabout her. "

Leaning against his machine he waited and listened. From around thebend came the low sound of the Maillard; nearer and nearer it came fora time; then it began to recede. At this the Italian remounted; theexplosions of his motor were muffled as he went swiftly along upon theway by which he had come. At the cross-roads he slowed up and examinedthe ground. Deep in the dust was the broad impress of the tires, showing the car to have taken the turn to the left. Then swiftly thecycle turned into the same road and took up the trail once more. 

Some three miles further on, the track veered back toward the highwayalong a badly cut dirt road. 

"Slow going for a heavy car, " said the pursuer calmly. "It will not belong before I sight it again. "

There was a hard, beaten footpath at one side of the road; taking tothis, the man on the motor cycle found it easy traveling enough. Shortly after, he caught the laborings of the Maillard as it made itsway through the binding ruts; then he slowed down and ran easily alongthe path, content, apparently, to keep in sound of the chase. 

But upon finally reaching the highway, he increased his speed until hesighted the dust of the car; this he hung to like a beagle, but neveronce allowed the car itself to come into view. 

At last the sounds of the Maillard ceased and the pall of dust thinnedand dissolved itself in the air. The motor cycle ran swiftly on untilthe car, now at a standstill, became visible; then the Italian gotdown, took out a pair of field-glasses and swept the highway beforehim. 

What he saw must have satisfied him that there would be no more usefor his machine for a time, at least; for he pushed it to a placewhere there was a break in a fence and concealed it behind amusty-looking corn shock, left from the fall before. Then placing theglass under his arm he walked guardedly along the road in thedirection of Miss Vale's car. 

Some distance further on there was a tall swamp maple growing by theroadside; it was an easy task to mount into its branches from the topfence-rail; then resting snugly in a high fork, he leveled his glassand proceeded to scan the scene before him. 

Miss Vale had descended from her car; her veil was raised, and shewas gingerly picking at the mechanism with hands sheathed in canvasgloves. With apparent intentness she took out tools; small parts wereinspected minutely. And yet, for all that, there was something unusualin her manner; every now and then she would lift her head, casually, so it seemed, and glance away across the fields. 

"And always to the right, " murmured the man in the tree-top, after alittle. 

At once the big glass swept around in that direction. 

"A house, " added the watcher, with great satisfaction. 

The building was almost buried in a thick growth of trees; its whitesides and red roof shone in the sun through branches abud with April. 

Suddenly, in the midst of her labor, Miss Vale paused; her mannerchanged, the tools were dropped, the parts lost interest. Facing thehouse, she yawned, with arms thrown wide after the manner of one muchwearied with a task; then she took off the gloves, unpinned her hatand smoothed her hair. This was gone through with careful elaborationand afterwards there was a pause; the girl then gathered up thethings, got into the machine, placed the hat upon the seat beside her, went careening away with never a backward glance. 

But the man in the tree seemed in no haste to follow; instead hecovered the distant house with his glass and waited patiently. Five, ten, fifteen minutes passed, then half an hour and finally an hour. Atthe end of that time, however, a figure emerged from the trees aboutthe house and walked hastily toward the road; the eyes of the watcherglistened, his fine teeth shone in an appreciative smile. 

Reaching the road where the car had stopped, the newcomer, who wasyoung, well-dressed and rather good-looking, suddenly paused, stoopedand lifted something from the ground. He held in his hands the workgloves of Miss Vale, which she had dropped after taking them off. Fora moment the young man stood looking at them as though hesitating whatto do; then he turned, went to the roadside and placed them carefullyupon the top rail of the fence. Then trudging along on his way, heunsuspectingly passed beneath the maple which concealed the man withthe glass. 

When he was out of sight, the Italian slipped down the tree and ranlightly along the road to the place where the gloves lay. He took upone and looked within; but it was empty. However, in the thumb of thenext was a slip of paper which bore a single line of writing:

"Tobin Rangnow. "

Studying this for a moment, the Italian made a copy of it. Then heslipped it back into the thumb of the glove and replaced both exactlyas they were; after which he made his way back to the motor cycle, andmounting, went flying toward the city. 

CHAPTER XVIII

ASHTON-KIRK TELLS WHY

It was about four in the afternoon, and young Pendleton sat inAshton-Kirk's big chair, reading the newspapers and waiting. Finallyhe rang a bell and Stumph gravely appeared. 

"Are you sure that he said three?" asked Pendleton. 

"_About_ three, sir, " replied the man. 

"Oh! I suppose he's been detained then. That will be all, Stumph!"

When the man disappeared, Pendleton lighted a cigar and resumed hisreading. The Hume case was still holding its place as the news featureof the day. Nothing had occurred to equal it in sensation; and thehuge headings flared across the front pages, undiminished andundismayed. 

"Why, " screamed the _Standard_, in a perfect frenzy of letter press, "did Miss Edyth Vale visit Hume on the night of the murder?"

The girl's name had crept into the paper on the day before; with eachedition it appeared in larger type; and that afternoon the _Standard_was printing it in red ink. Allan Morris was not neglected; on thecontrary, he figured a very close second to his betrothed in thetypes. 

"_Where is Allan Morris?_"

One paper asked this question perhaps fifty times on each page. Itpeered at one in square, heavy-faced type from the bottoms of columnsand between articles. There were interviews with his clerks; theopinions of his stenographer were given in full, together with herportrait; and what his man servant had to say was treated as being ofgreat consequence. 

Another sheet, which made a point of appealing to the tastes of thevast foreign element of the city, grew very indignant as to the arrestof Antonio Spatola. 

"Why, " it inquired, "is this man detained and no attempt made to takethose higher up into custody? If the Police Department is so ready toincarcerate a poor musician, why should it hesitate upon the thresholdof the rich man's mansion?--or the rich woman's, for the matter ofthat?"

This item incensed Pendleton beyond measure; he threw the paper asideand stormed up and down the room. 

"Of all the blatant wretched twaddle I ever did read, " he exclaimed, "this is positively the worst. Why, the rag would have the policearrest Edyth--arrest her for--"

"Well, " demanded a sharp, aggressively pitched voice, "what for youmake-a da blame, eh? Da cops pinch-a Spatola, and for why, eh? Becausehe's da wop, da Ginney, da Dago and got-a no friends. "

At the first word Pendleton had whirled about in astonishment, andfaced the speaker, who stood in the doorway, pointing with one hand inthe attitude of melodrama. 

"Well, " asked the young man, "who the deuce are you?"

By way of an answer the other burst into a laugh that showed hisbrilliant teeth; then he threw off his battered soft hat and gaylycolored handkerchief, after which he sank into the chair whichPendleton had lately vacated. 

"Pen, " said he, in an altered voice, "if you appreciate my friendshipat all, give me one of the blackest cigars in the case over there. "

Pendleton stared for a moment; then a grin crept over his face and hesaid:

"Oh, it's you, is it?" He went to the cabinet and took out a box. "Here's a brand that looks like black Havana, " he said. "And now, whatthe dickens are you doing in that rig?"

"I've been taking a long ride in the country--on a motor cycle, "answered Ashton-Kirk, crossing his shabbily clothed legs and strikinga match. "Any time you feel disinclined to face your meals, Pen, Irecommend you heartily to do the same. It is a greater bracer. At thismoment I really believe I could do complete justice to even the verybest culinary thoughts of our friend, Dr. Mercer. "

Pendleton sat down and regarded his friend with questioning eyes. 

"It wasn't to acquire an appetite that you made up this way. You'vebeen working. "

Ashton-Kirk comfortably blew one smoke-ring through another before heanswered. 

"Will you be surprised to hear that I have been following Miss EdythVale on a little voyage to the neighborhood of Cordova?"

"Again!"

"But this time she did not pay a visit to Professor Locke. To-day thefavored one was Allan Morris. "

"Morris! Then she knows where he is?"

"So it would seem. "

"But she told you the other day that she did not. "

Ashton-Kirk shrugged his shoulders. 

"Things happen swiftly and unexpectedly, " said he. "Perhaps she did_not_ know it then. "

"And perhaps she did not know Locke or his whereabouts, either, " saidPendleton, with bitter irony. 

"Who knows?" replied Ashton-Kirk, composedly. "At any rate, it wasjust a supposition that led to my labors of to-day. "

"I don't think I understand, " said Pendleton, after a moment. 

"Last night, " said the investigator, "you asked me if I had learnedanything from Professor Locke. And I replied to the effect that Ithought I had. Now, " after a pause, devoted to the grateful smoke, "when one sees a girl circumstanced as Miss Vale assuredly is in thiscase, paying a secret visit to a man who is rather more than suspectedof the murder, what does one suppose?"

"That she is leagued with him, somehow, " replied Pendleton, reluctantly. 

"Exactly. But on the other hand, when the same girl, upon sight of us, rushes off and leaves the man to face us without giving him a hint asto who we are, what does one suppose?"

But Pendleton rose gloomily and strode over to the window. 

"I don't know, " said he. 

"One supposes, " proceeded Ashton-Kirk, "that she has not much interestin him. " Here Pendleton faced about again. "If she had been leaguedwith him, as you put it, you may be sure that she would have managedto warn him in some way as to our identity. But that she had not doneso, the mute's manner told me as plainly as words could have done. Seeing this, I began figuring what it meant. If she was not associatedwith Locke in the crime, why was she there? Immediately came theanswer--through Morris. But, when I saw her last, she denied anyknowledge of Morris's whereabouts. Then I reasoned, she had seen himin the interim. "

"That's it, " cried Pendleton, as he stepped forward and slapped thetable with his palm; "that's it, beyond a doubt! He's managed to getword to her; she's seen him; he's told her all or part of the truth;and once more she's trying to help him. Why, Kirk, I'll venture tosay, " hot with indignation, "that she was led to visit this littlescoundrel Locke, last night, much as she was led to visit Hume's placeon the night of the murder--completely in the dark, and merely withsome sort of a vague notion of protecting Morris. "

"Perhaps you are right, but I can't exactly say. But that she has seenMorris I have made quite sure. "

"How?"

"Last night when I appeared at Locke's window, I established a reasonfor calling upon her this morning, also I laid a foundation for whatfollowed. Before the call I made certain preparations for a quickchange of front, " with a gesture that called attention to his costume;"in our conversation, I managed to tell her that Morris's hidingplace was discovered. Then I left. As I expected, she at once calledher car and set off to warn him; and I followed close behind upon themotor cycle. "

"I see, I see. And did you get sight of him?"

Ashton-Kirk nodded. Then he proceeded to relate the story of thenoon-day run to the country house which Morris had selected as ahiding place. When he had finished, Pendleton sat frowning blackly. 

"Secret signals, " said he. "He fears discovery so much that he hasforbidden her approaching the house. A regular code has been arranged, eh? And the gloves were dropped in the road purposely; he slipped hisanswer into one of them; on her way back she discovers her supposedloss, looks for the gloves, and finds them. It is quite ornate, " witha bitter sneer. 

Then he took from the investigator's hand the card upon which he hadcopied the message of Allan Morris. 

"Tobin Rangnow, " he read. Then looking up he inquired with a wansmile. "More secret writing, eh? Or is it a man's name?"

"There is a decided Irish flavor to Tobin, " answered Ashton-Kirk. "ButRangnow is unfamiliar to me; and if it is a name at all, it is ofEastern European origin. In that case, " laughing, "it could scarcelybe expected to share the honors with Tobin. "

He took the card from Pendleton and looked at it thoughtfully. Then heglanced up in a satisfied sort of way:

"As you suggested, Miss Vale no doubt returned, recovered her glovesand read the message, " said he. "As she had just warned him that hishiding place was discovered, it is only natural to suppose that hisanswer would have something to do with his future movements. "

"That seems likely enough, " said Pendleton. 

"Look here; if we put a comma between the two words, " went on theinvestigator, taking out a pencil and doing so, "the thing takes onthe appearance of a name and address. "

Once more he gave the card to Pendleton; then rising he went to thetelephone stand and took up the directory. Skimming rapidly throughthis he paused at a page and went down its columns carefully. Thenwith a laugh he slapped it shut. 

"We have it, " declared he. "When we so desire, we can call at anapartment house known as the 'Rangnow' and inquire for Mr. Tobin. Andwhen we see that gentleman we shall be looking upon one in theconfidence of Allan Morris. "

There was a long pause on the part of Pendleton. Ashton-Kirk rang forStumph and directed him to turn the water into his bath, and get himout some fresh linen. It was after the man had gone that Pendletonspoke. 

"When you came in, Kirk, " he said, "you said something which conveyedthe notion that you would not be much astonished if the police took upthe Hume matter with Edyth Vale. "

"It is only the fact that the newspapers were first in discovering herapparent connection with it, that has kept Osborne and his fellowsfrom visiting her before this. Jealousy, you know, does many strangethings. "

Pendleton did not reply; he bent his head and covered his face withhis hands. Ashton-Kirk went on:

"The reasonable thing for her to do would be to come forward and tellthe plain truth. "

Pendleton roused himself. 

"But don't you see that that is the very thing that her brave naturewill not do? She's protecting Morris; and she'll go on protecting him, no matter what the consequence to herself. "

"In that event, " said the investigator slowly, "we can not be in toogreat a hurry in removing the cause that keeps Morris in hiding. "

"You'll have a task in that, " said Pendleton. "As far as I can see, the man is up to his eyes in the crime; and that's why he is lyinglow. "

"I have warned you before now against jumping at conclusions, " saidthe other, quietly. "Allan Morris may be a confederate of Locke's, orhe may not. We have yet to establish the fact either way. And now, pardon me while I take a plunge and get into something presentable. "

CHAPTER XIX

THE TWO REPORTS

After dinner the two young men settled themselves in the library:Stumph served their coffee and they renewed their acquaintance withthe Greek tobacco. After a little time there came a knock upon thedoor. 

"Come, " called Ashton-Kirk. 

A short man with remarkable breadth of shoulder and depth of chestentered; he was smooth shaven and salient of jaw and wore the air ofone who was not easily balked in anything that he undertook. 

"How are you, Burgess?" said the investigator. 

"Good-evening, " returned Burgess. He advanced and laid some neatlyfolded sheets at the elbow of his employer. "Fuller was busy and Ithought I'd bring these in myself. It's my report on Hume. "

"Ah, thank you. "

Ashton-Kirk took up the sheets and began running his eye through them. "As you get deeper into this record, did Hume keep his promise?"

Burgess smiled. 

"As to possibilities, do you mean? Why, yes. Indeed, I rather thinkhe exceeded them. " The man lit the cigar which the investigator handedhim and drew at it appreciatively. "I went it alone on the first day;but after that I took O'Neill and Purvis on. Between us, we managed toget at something pretty definite. "

"Has Fuller finished with Morris?"

"He is typing his report at this moment. It will be ready in a halfhour, I should think. "

"Please tell him to bring it in as soon as it is finished. "

Burgess nodded and went out. Ashton-Kirk continued to dip into thereport here and there. 

"Among three of them, " said Pendleton, "they should have sifted theman's life and adventures pretty well. "

As Ashton-Kirk continued to scan the pages, a peculiar expressionslowly came into his eyes. 

"They seem to have done so, indeed. And rather cleverly, too, I think. Would you care to hear the report?"

"By all means, " eagerly. 

The sheets were shifted into their proper order once more. ThenAshton-Kirk read:

 "'_A Further Investigation into the Affairs of David Purtell Hume_. 

"'No record was to be had of Hume, beyond his settlement in the cityin 1899. People in the same line of business were questioned closely;and those who knew anything of him at all clung to the idea that hewas an American who had lived for many years abroad. 

"'So we had another look at the old passenger lists of the steamships;but this time we went further back. We knew that the simple ruse of afictitious name would cover Hume completely; but it seemed the onlything to do, and we set at it systematically. In the records of thesteamer _Baltic_ of the Netherlands Steamship Company for the year1897, we came upon the name of "D. Purtell. " Without much hope oflearning anything definite after such a lapse of time, I inquiredafter this passenger. 

"'Luck was with us in the shape of an old clerk with a long memory. Hefaintly recalled something of the man, and after some talk got outstill another book. And there it was! D. Purtell, so it seemed, hadbeen involved in an attempt to smuggle a quantity of diamonds. 

"'Our next step was to visit the customs people. Their records werevery complete. They even had a portrait of Purtell, which proved himto have been Hume beyond a doubt. Only a trifle of evidence had beensecured against him--not enough to convict--and they were forced torelease him. This seems to have been Hume's specialty. 

"'However, through the customs services of other countries, they hadlearned quite a lot about him. The authorities of Holland, Spain andFrance knew him as one of the leading spirits in a system of smugglingthat had been going on for years. Once Hume had been located inAntwerp, once at Hamburg, and for a long time at Bayonne. This systemof contraband had been broken up just before he had been arrested bythe United States service. A number of the criminals had beenconvicted; but Hume, with his usual luck, had escaped once more, because of lack of evidence against him. 

"'Nothing could be learned of the movements of Hume between his arreston the _Baltic_ and his location here as a dealer in the curiositiesof art. And after his going into business here, he kept to himself agreat deal. 

"'But the drink habit caused him to frequent certain resorts, and itwas at one of these that he first met Richard Morris, father to AllanMorris!'"

"Ah!" said Pendleton. "So Hume knew Morris's father. "

"I asked Fuller, in giving him his instructions, to have this factestablished, if he could, " said Ashton-Kirk. "That both Hume and theelder Morris were heavy drinkers caused me to think it possible. "

"Is that all there is to the report?"

"Almost. " The investigator turned to the pages once more, andproceeded: "'Hume and the elder Morris became quite intimate and wereoften seen together. But what it was that formed the bond betweenthem, no one knows, unless it be a deaf mute named Locke, who wasfrequently seen in their society and who seemed upon close terms withboth. But within a year after their first meeting, Hume broke withMorris. This must have been serious, for it caused a marked enmity tospring up between them. A number of people recall that Richard Morrisfrequently made threats against the other--threats of personalviolence and also of the law. But before anything could come of these, if he really meant them, he died. 

"'Thinking that Locke might be able to throw some light on this phaseof the case, we have endeavored to locate him. Up to this time we havemet with no success; but we hope to learn something of him at an earlydate. '"

Ashton-Kirk laid the sheets down upon the table. 

"There follows a list of the names of the people who have suppliedthis information and their addresses, " said he. "Burgess is verythorough in his work. "

"Outside the fact that Hume was a scoundrel--which we knewbefore--and that he was acquainted with Locke and Allan Morris'sfather, what does this report tell you?"

There was discontent in Pendleton's voice as he asked this question, and the investigator smiled as he made answer:

"That Hume knew the elder Morris supplies us with a theory as to thepossible part which the younger Morris has taken in this drama. Whatever passed between Hume and the father has probably been taken upby the son. "

"Why, yes, " said Pendleton. "I hadn't thought of that. "

"Another thing, " added Ashton-Kirk: "The report has swung like theneedle of a compass, and indicated a fact that my imaginationsuggested days ago. "

"And that is--"

"That Hume once lived in the French town of Bayonne. "

Pendleton frowned impatiently. 

"I don't know what ever made you imagine that, " he said. "But now thatyou find that it is so, of what service is it?"

"We will speak of that later, " answered Ashton-Kirk. 

Pendleton was about to say something more, but just then Fullerknocked and entered. 

"The report on Allan Morris, " said he. 

"Ah, thanks. " The investigator took the compactly typed sheets, andthen he continued: "Tell Burgess that he need not bother about the manLocke whom he mentions. Say that I have already located him. "

"Very well, " and Fuller left the room. 

For a space there was no sound save that which came from the streetand the rustle of the pages as Ashton-Kirk went through them. 

"Well, " asked Pendleton, finally. "What now?"

"Morris, " replied his friend, "does not develop like Hume. Fullersuspected that he'd prove colorless, and so it has turned out. However, I'll read what he says. It's headed:

 "'_A Second Report on Allan Morris_

"'A very careful inquiry failed to uncover anything in connection withthis young man's personal affairs that was not mentioned in my firstreport on the same subject. He has led a very even, uneventful life, attending strictly to business and making every movement count in thedirection of distinction as a marine engineer. 

"'However, there has been something in his manner for the last fewyears that has attracted the attention of those who knew him best orcame in contact with him. This took the various forms of eagerness ofmanner, irritability, long fits of reveries, a feverish desire forwork. At his place of business I learned that he has for some time hada deep interest in the reports of the patent office. His clerks saythat he'd read these for hours at a time; one of them told me of howhe (the clerk) once forgot to call Morris's attention to the reportuntil the day after its arrival. Morris has always been very tolerantwith his employees, but that day he burst out in a fury and threatenedto discharge them all. 

"'Richard Morris, father to Allan, was a most erratic genius, as myfirst report indicated. His propeller, his smoke-consumer, and hisautomatic brake were valuable commercial properties, but had allslipped from his control. Toward the end of his life he engaged in theperfection of an invention of which he talked a great deal and ofwhich he declared that he alone would reap the benefit. 

"'As Burgess will already have told you, Richard Morris knew Hume. Thelatter was a frequent visitor to a shop which the inventor maintainedin the outskirts, as was the mute Locke. I have talked with an oldmechanic who worked for Morris at the time; he told me that theinventor had made a stubborn fight against the drink habit and seemedlikely to conquer it up to the time that he became acquainted withHume. After this, however, he became as much a slave to it as ever. The invention, or whatever it was, never got beyond the paper stage;for thereafter Richard Morris spent his days in sleep and his nightsat the once famous Coffin Club. '"

Ashton-Kirk arose eagerly. 

"There is more, " said he, "but it is scarcely of interest. " Placingthe report upon the table, he added: "You have heard of the CoffinClub, Pen?"

"Of course. It met in an underground place somewhere, didn't it? Andif I remember right, it was fitted up like the Café Au Mort in Paris. "

"Something of the sort. " The investigator went to a huge card systemand pulled out a drawer labeled "TO. " "But I recall it best by thesteward whose philosophy and Irish turns of speech were so frequentlyquoted by the newspapers during the heydey of the establishment. Canyou recall his name?"

"I know whom you mean, " answered Pendleton, "but the name has slippedme. "

Ashton-Kirk paused in the fingering of the cards. 

"It was Tobin, " said he. "It came to me that it was, but I wanted tobe sure. " He pushed the drawer into place, looked at his friendinquiringly, and added: "Suppose we go around to the 'Rangnow' and seehim?"

CHAPTER XX

ONE OF THE OLD SORT

Pendleton looked at his friend in bewilderment. 

"You don't mean to say that the philosopher of the Coffin Club andthis Tobin of young Morris's are the same, " cried he. 

"I only _think_ they are, " said Ashton-Kirk quietly. "But we can makesure by paying a short visit to the apartment house. "

"Now?"

"There is no time like the present. "

And so the end of a half hour found them stepping out of a cab at theextreme west end of the city. It was only a little after nine o'clock, but the streets were almost deserted; the arc-lamps clicked and hissedlonesomely; rows of darkened windows and shadowy doorways ran away onboth sides. 

"There is the place we want, " said the investigator, pointing at anilluminated sign which hung out over the sidewalk some little distanceaway. 

When they reached the place, they found it was rather a large buildingof the modern type; pushing open the swinging doors and making theirway through a brilliantly lighted passage, they found themselves inan equally brilliant office. 

Here they saw a dozen or more men seated in tilted chairs; all woretheir hats and for the most part smoked cigars. Behind a polishedcounter on which rested a nickeled cash register and a huge book, stood a white-haired man with a smooth Irish face and a pair of goldeyeglasses hanging by a black cord. The air was heavy withdisputation; long-tailed words boomed sonorously; red-faced andearnest, one of the occupants of the chairs assailed the man behindthe counter; with soft, sweeping, eloquent gestures the latterdefended himself. 

"And what, " demanded he, placing his hands upon the shining top of thecounter and shoving his head forward inquiringly, "is all this that wedo be hearing about your suffragette? Who is she? What is she? Thenewspapers are filled to the top with her, but sorra the sight of herdid I ever see. If she has any existence outside of the comicsupplement, gentlemen, I'd like to have ye show me where. Did ye everhear a whisper of her till she began to send herself by registeredmail and chain herself to lamp posts? Niver the one of ye! Is yourwife a suffragette? She's not. Is your mother? No. Your sister? Againit's no. Then who is it that composes the great army of female ballotseekers? Is it the cook? The chambermaid? The woman that does theplain sewing? I'll wager 'tis not. They have too much to do already;it's not looking for additional burdens they are. Then where does thisadvanced woman flourish and have her being?" Here one hand went up anddescended with a slap. "In the mansions of the rich, " he declaimedpositively; "in the lap of luxury. Among the feminine descendants ofsuccessful gum shoe men!"

Here the man with the flushed face attempted to speak; but an eloquentsweep of both hands silenced him. 

"They have nothing to do, " stated the orator, "but to invent ways ofpleasing themselves. Monkey dinner parties, diamonds, automobiles andboxes on the grand tier have no more attraction; private yachts andother women's husbands have grown _passé_. They want a new toy, andfaith, nothing will please them but the destinies of the nation. Theirreasoning is simple and direct. If a man who wheels scrap iron at ablast furnace is competent to handle the--"

At this point the speaker was interrupted by Ashton-Kirk advancing tothe counter. 

"Pardon me, " said the investigator, "but can you tell me where I canfind Mr. Tobin? Is he in?"

A look of great dignity came upon the face of the other; and he drewhimself up stiffly. 

"You are speaking to him, sir, " replied he. 

"I thought so, " smiled Ashton-Kirk. "My old friend Dan O'Connor hasmentioned you so often that I felt sure that I recognized the manner. "

The dignity vanished from Mr. Tobin's face, and the stiffness ofdemeanor fell from him instantly. 

"Do you know Dan?" asked he, eagerly. "Ah, there is the lad for you. Acredit to his country and to his name. Faith, he is the best judge ofwhiskey in the city, and has a heart as large and as mellow as abarrel of it. "

"If it would not be putting you about in any way, we'd like a fewmoments in private with you. "

At once Mr. Tobin touched a button. A young man presented himself, andto him the conducting of the house was transferred for the time being. Then the two friends were led into a small sitting-room, where chairswere placed for them, and Mr. Tobin seated himself opposite them withsome expectation. 

"Since I became manager here, " explained he, "I seldom hear of any ofthe old lads. Ye see, it's so far from the center of the city, "regretfully, "they seldom get along this way, so they do. "

"Yes, I suppose they cling to their old haunts, " said Ashton-Kirk. "Dan sticks to his school of boxing these days, pretty closely. Ioften drop in for a round or two with him. He's as clever as ever, buthe's slowing up. "

Tobin shook his white head sadly. 

"Tut, tut, tut, " said he. "And do you tell me that! Faith, he's ayoung man yet--not much over sixty--and what call have he to be takin'on the ways and manners of age? Even as late as the last year of theCoffin Club he was as swift as the light. "

"He frequently spoke of that club to me, " observed the other. "A queerplace, I understand. "

Tobin nodded. 

"Queer enough, " he answered, "and the members was as queer in someways. Nothing would do them, but they must spend their timeunderground, sitting at tables shaped like coffins, and drinking theirliquor out of mugs shaped like skulls. I was steward there a longtime, and got good pay; but I never approved of the notion. It alwaysseemed like divilment to me, did that. "

"Some very well known people frequented it, did they not?"

"Many's the time I've seen the governor of the state himself, sittingthere with a mug in his fist. The liquors was of the best, do yousee, " with a pleased light in his eyes. "I know that, for it weremeself that selected them. And a good sup of drink is a greatattraction, so it is. "

"I don't think that can be successfully denied, " admitted theinvestigator. "Some very brilliant men have proved it to theirsorrow. "

"True for ye, " said Tobin. "Don't I know it? We had actors and writersand editors--the cream of their professions--and every one of them adevotee, so to speak, of Bacchus. Sure, the finer the intellect, thegreater the sup of drink appeals to them, if it does at all. One ofthe greatest frequenters of the club was a man whose inventions, " witha grandiloquent gesture, "revolutionized the industries of the world. And when he was mellow with it, boys o' boys, but he could discourse!His name was Morris, " added the speaker, "and he was the father of theyoung man whose name has been mixed up with this Hume affair which isso occupying the public mind just now. "

"Indeed. "

There was a pause: Tobin's mobile face looked back upon the past; hiseyes had an introspective light in them. 

"To think, " said he, "how the natures of men differ. Some are like thegods of old, and others again are like--well, like anything you chooseto call them. And yet, " with philosophic speculation, "these twowidely diversified types are sometimes friends. To the surprise ofeveryone they occasionally take up with one another. It's hard to saywhy, but it is so. "

"I've noticed it myself, " said Ashton-Kirk. 

Tobin nodded. 

"Never, " said he, "did I see it so exemplified as in the case ofRichard Morris and this felly who has just been killed. Never were twomen more unlike; but sorra such an intimacy did I ever see afore, asthere was between them. Morris when he had the drink in him was apoet. His ideas soared to the starry skies; he flew about upon thewings of the wind; faith I believe he thought the sun was not beyondhis reach. But Hume was a divil! God save us, that I should say thelike about any human creature; but he had the imp in him, for many'sthe time I see it grinning and looking out at his two eyes. "

"I've heard it said that he was an unpleasant sort of chap, " agreedthe other. 

"Unpleasant, " said Tobin, "does not do credit to his capabilities, though 'tis a good word enough. There was never a man came into theCoffin Club, during the five years that I were there, that looked asthough the place fitted him, but Hume. The others were like bad littleboys who wouldn't take a dare. But Hume was just right. To see himlift one of the stone skulls to his lips and grin over it at you, would make your blood run cold. And bless us and save us, gentlemen, how he would jeer and snarl and laugh all at the one time. Many's thetime I've listened to poor Morris rave and paint his pictures of whathe was going to do in times to come; and on the other side of thecoffin-table, Hume would urge him on, leerin' and grinnin' like Satanhimself, and making all manner of game of him. Bedad, me gorge rose atit more than once, and it was all I could do to keep from takin' himby the scruff of the neck and throwin' him intil the street. "

"Almost every man has some spark of good in his nature, howeverfaint, " said Ashton-Kirk. "And Hume may have had one, too, though noone seems to have discovered it. "

Tobin smiled and returned:

"An Irishman always has a good deal of respect for the fightingstrain, no matter if it be in a man, or a beast, or a bird. Old Nickhimself must be a grand, two-handed man, and as such we must give himcredit. And 'twas the same way with this felly Hume. He had realfighting blood, so he had; and sorra the man ever undertook to imposeon him the second time. "

"And as a true Celt, you held this to be a credit mark, " laughedAshton-Kirk. 

"I did. And, indeed, he seemed to consider it so himself, though hewas not one to care a snap what others thought of him. But often he'dboast of the stock he came from. Fighters they were to the core, hesaid, fighters who never knew when they were whipped, and who'd go onfighting while they had a leg to stand on, an eye to see, and an armto strike a blow. "

Tobin here paused and stroked his smooth-shaven chin, reflectively. 

"He claimed descent from someone who was rated a real man in his day, "he continued. "'Twas an officer, I think, who fought with--faith, yes, " smiling in recollection, "at the side of sorra the one less thanWashington himself. "

Pendleton, listening with dwindling interest, saw Ashton-Kirk's handclench, and saw a gleam shoot into his eyes. Then he saw him bendtoward Tobin, his elbows on his knees, his clenched hands beneath hischin. 

"Ah, " said the investigator, and his voice was calmer than Pendletonremembered ever hearing it before, "he claimed a pedigree, did he? Andfrom a Revolutionary officer. Such things are always interesting. It'sa pity you can't remember the soldier's name. "

Tobin pondered. 

"I can't, " confessed he, at length; "but there is one thing that Iremember hearing Hume tell about him; it seemed laughable at the time, and I suppose that's why it's stuck to me. It seems that the supposedancestor were a great felly for dress, and expected the like of allthe men under him; and though he often had niver a crust of bread toput into their mouths, he always managed to have a pinch of whitepowder for them to dress their hair. "

Ashton-Kirk laughed suddenly, and leaned back in his chair. The gleamdied out of his eyes, and a twinkle of satisfaction replaced it. 

"That, " said he, "sounds amusing enough to be true. Mr. Hume'sancestor was at least consistent. But, " and his tone changed, "we mustnot keep you from your duties, Mr. Tobin, and so we'll get to thematter in hand. "

"If it is not hurrying you, " agreed Tobin. 

"A while ago, " spoke Ashton-Kirk, "you mentioned young Allan Morris;and during your conversation you have led me to think that you werehis father's friend. "

"I were, " said Tobin. "He were a decent man. "

"Then perhaps your friendship extends to the son as well. "

"Perhaps it does, " and a note of perceptible caution crept intoTobin's voice. 

"I am glad to hear it, " said the investigator. "He seems badly in needof friends of the right sort just now; and I am confident, Mr. Tobin, that you are of that sort. "

"A man who has disappeared as completely as this one has done, "stated Tobin, "is out of the reach of even the best of friends. "

"Have you not heard from him since the murder?"

"No, " replied the other with a readiness that carried conviction. 

"Then you will, and before long. " Ashton-Kirk arose and stood lookinginto the old man's face. "Perhaps it will be to-night; but it will beby to-morrow night at latest. And when you do you can best show yourfriendship for him by telling him not to be a fool. "

"You mean, " said Tobin, shrewdly, "that I'm to advise him to give overhiding?"

"Exactly. "

"I'll do that willingly enough, if I hear of him. An innocent man hasno call to hide himself like a rat. But, " inquiringly, "after I tellhim that, what will I do?"

Ashton-Kirk took out a card; handing it to the other, he said:

"Ask him to come see me. "

Tobin gave the card one glance, then his face lit up and his hand wentout. 

"Let me shake your hand, sir, " said he. "And I'll tell the lad whatyou say with a heart and a half. "

CHAPTER XXI

ASHTON-KIRK BEGINS TO PLAN

As Ashton-Kirk and Pendleton left the "Rangnow, " the latter said:

"You surely do not suppose that Morris will call on you?"

"Why not?"

"It does not sound reasonable. "

"A day or two ago I would have said the same. But things are taking ona different aspect. And with their change, Morris will change. He hadno idea of what was to come, or he would not have done what he hasdone. "

"No criminal would, " said Pendleton. 

Ashton-Kirk shrugged his shoulders at this, but made no direct reply. 

"And now if these newspapers, with all their pointed references toEdyth Vale, do not make the man come forward, " he went on, "what isabout to happen--say within the next forty-eight hours--will be sureto do so. "

Pendleton turned a surprised look upon him. 

"You think, then, that something unusual is about to happen?"

"I _know_ there is, " was the quiet reply. "To-night, old chap, hasbeen most prolific in results. It has indicated why the murder wasdone; it has suggested the identity of the actual murderer; it haseven pointed out the spot upon which we shall finally take him. "

"You really mean all that?" cried Pendleton, incredulously. 

"I do. "

"Then you must have learned it at some time while I was not--" herePendleton paused, and then proceeded in another tone. "But you have_not_ been out of my sight since dinner. Everything you have heard, Ihave heard; all that you have seen, I have seen. "

"Just so, " said Ashton-Kirk. 

There was a pause; they walked along toward the place where they wereto get a street car. At length Pendleton spoke once more. 

"And from the rather bald reports of your two assistants, and the talkof this man, Tobin, you have gathered these most vital facts?"

"We can hardly call them facts as yet, " said the other; "but I haveevery confidence that we can do so within the time specified. "

A gong sounded sharply and a car crossed the street. Pendleton placedhis hand upon his friend's shoulder. 

"Kirk, " said he, "I am not going to ask another question. I'm justgoing to wait, and if it turns out as you say, I'll never question astatement of yours as long as I live. I'll swallow them all as theMussulman swallows the Koran. "

They boarded the car and Ashton-Kirk settled himself in a corner. Hisarms were folded across his chest, his head gradually sank forward. Toall appearances he was asleep; but Pendleton knew that he was merelyturning over some plan of action that would, in a little time, beginto reveal itself. 

However, he was not prepared for such quick action as resulted; forsuddenly Ashton-Kirk jumped up, glanced out at the car window, thendarted to the platform and leaped off. Pendleton followed at once, andcame up with him part way down an intersecting street. 

"Where to now?" he asked. 

"City Hall, " replied Ashton-Kirk, briefly. 

It was no great distance to the municipal buildings; they shot up inthe elevator and entered the police department. 

"I'd like to see Superintendent Weagle, " said the investigator to theofficer who came forward to speak to them. 

"He's just getting ready to go home, " answered the man, "but I'll seewhat I can do. "

The superintendent of police happened to be in an obliging humor, andthey were shown into his office a few moments later. Weagle stood inthe middle of the floor, drawing on a light over-coat; the end of ablack cigar was clenched between his teeth. 

"How are you?" greeted he. "Anything doing in my line?"

"Not just yet, " replied Ashton-Kirk, "but I have some hopes. "

The official laughed. 

"We all have them, " said he. "If we didn't we might as well put up theshutters. " He threw the cigar end away and wiped his stubby moustachewith a large handkerchief. "You've come for something, " said he. "Whatis it? My wife and kiddies are expecting me, and I must get home. "

"How long are you going to maintain the police guard at 478 ChristiePlace?" inquired the investigator. 

"I hadn't thought of it, " replied the superintendent. "However, we arein the habit of keeping such details up for some little time. Anotherthing, there is a lot of valuable stuff there which must be lookedafter. "

"Beginning with to-morrow night, " said Ashton-Kirk, "I want you towithdraw your men. And further, I want your permission for my friendMr. Pendleton and myself to watch in their place. "

The official opened his eyes at this. 

"Well, " said he, after a moment's silence, "I don't just understandyour reasons; and the thing is most unusual. But, " and he nodded hishead approvingly, "I've always noticed that you have reasons behindeverything you do, and if this thing is expected to throw any furtherlight on the Hume case, why, it shall be as you say. "

"Thank you, " said Ashton-Kirk. "Unless I am much mistaken it willclose the matter finally as far as your department is concerned, andput the whole thing up to the District Attorney. "

"You mean, " said the superintendent with interest, "that you've gotsomething new on Spatola--and perhaps on Morris and the girl!"

"I mean, " answered Ashton-Kirk, "that I hope to place the murderers ofthe numismatist Hume in your hands in a few days--whoever they maybe. "

Weagle waved his hand. 

"That's all we want, " said he with a laugh. "Give us the right onesand we'll make no complaint. And now, if you have nothing more to say, I'll say good-night. "

They parted with the superintendent in the corridor; then Ashton-Kirkled the way into a room where some police officials and a number ofyoung men were lounging about. 

"Oh, how are you?" greeted a stout sergeant, affably. "And how's thework?"

While the investigator was speaking to the sergeant, one of thealert-looking young men approached. 

"Pardon, " said he. "But is there anything you'd like to say to the_Star?_"

"No, " replied Ashton-Kirk. 

"You are working on the Hume case, are you not?" asked the reporterwith professional insistence. 

"Oh, I have had a little interest in it as an outsider, that is all, "returned the other. "However, " as he was passing through withPendleton, "I can give you a piece of official police news on thecase, which I just got from the superintendent. After to-night theguard will be removed from Hume's place. Weagle thinks the regularpoliceman on the beat is all that is needed from now on. "

As they left the building by the main door, Pendleton said:

"A little while ago, I rashly promised to ask no more questions. Ifyou'll release me from that, I'll unburden myself of one or two whichwill otherwise keep me awake to-night. "

"Go ahead, " said Ashton-Kirk with a smile. 

"Why, " asked Pendleton, "do you want the police called off at Hume's?and why should we place ourselves on watch instead?"

"At the very first we made up our minds that the men who murdered Humewere in search of something, didn't we? Up to this time I have beenunable to say whether they had succeeded or not. Now, however, I amconvinced that they failed. "

"Ah!"

"To-morrow the newspapers will announce that Hume's place is to be nolonger guarded. It may be that the criminals are desperate enough toventure another visit in order to gain possession of the thing theycovet. If they do, we shall be awaiting them. "

"But how do you know that they failed of their object on the night ofthe murder?"

"You and I, " said Ashton-Kirk, laughingly, "are perhaps going to spendconsiderable time in Christie Place, beginning with to-morrow evening. And while there we may find it dull enough, old boy; a littleamusement of a practical sort might not be found out of place. So I'llnot answer your question now; I'll allow it to stand until to-morrownight; and then I'll give it to you, compact and complete, withpractical illustrations as I go along. "

CHAPTER XXII

ASHTON-KIRK IS ANNOYED

On the following day, at about noon, Ashton-Kirk's big French carglided up to the curb before the Vale house. A man with a thick neckand a small head nodded to the investigator; another waved a hand fromacross the street. 

"Plain-clothes men, " he murmured, "and at watch upon the house. Thatmeans that this matter can be brought to an end none too soon for MissVale's comfort. "

He was getting out of his car when a brace of eager reporters accostedhim. 

"The _Standard_ would like to have you say a few words forpublication, " said one. 

"The _Herald_ will give you what space you require for a statement atany time you see fit to make use of it, " declared the other. 

"I'm very sorry, " said Ashton-Kirk, brushing a speck of dust from animmaculate sleeve, "but I have nothing to say that would interest yourcity editors, or the public. I have no doubt but that the policeofficials will be glad to acquaint you with anything new that hastranspired--if there has been anything new. "

The newspaper men pulled wry faces. 

"The police hang onto the Italian musician and profess to think he'sthe guilty party, " said one. "If they have taken any steps beyondthis, before to-day, we have not known of it. "

"Why have the detectives been placed to watch Miss Vale's house?"asked the other. "And what has Osborne gone in to talk about?"

"Ah, " said Ashton-Kirk, with interest, "Osborne is within, is he?"

"Yes; and why are you going in? What has been learned regarding MissVale's connection with the case that has not already been madepublic?"

"I would hardly undertake to answer that last, " laughed Ashton-Kirk. "So much has been made public in one way and another that I haven'tbeen able to keep track of it all. My own visit is merely a friendlycall. Why Mr. Osborne is here I, of course, cannot say. "

Leaving the newspaper men disappointed and dissatisfied, theinvestigator rang the bell and was admitted. In the hall, pulling onhis gloves, was Osborne. 

"Hello!" exclaimed the latter. "So you thought you'd have a try, too, eh?"

The big man's tone showed that he was none too well pleased with hisown visit; he jerked at his gloves viciously, and his brow was creasedwith vexation. And seeing that the other was disposed to do nothingmore than nod, he went on:

"Well, you'll have to have a lot better luck than I've had, to haveany at all. Miss Vale, it seems, is a young lady who knows very wellhow to say nothing. I've been here something like an hour and have puther through a regular third degree; but I've had my labor for mypains, as the saying is. She has told me nothing except her opinion ofthe newspapers and the police. "

"Miss Vale will see you, sir, " said the man servant, returning. 

"And so you've given it up?" queried the investigator of Osborne. 

The big headquarters man shrugged his shoulders. 

"Hardly, " said he. "I've set a time on the thing. We scarcely like togo to extremes, as you perhaps know; but unless a clean breast of thematter is made, as far as the party knows, " modifying his languagebecause of the listening servant, "the same party will know what theinside of a cell is like by this time to-morrow. "

"You really mean to make an arrest?"

"If we are forced to--yes. "

Ashton-Kirk followed him to the door:

"Extend the time limit, " suggested he. "Make it the day afterto-morrow, and, " elevating his brows, "I don't think that you'll needto do anything unpleasant. "

"Ah, " said Osborne, "you're onto something!" He regarded the otherquestioningly for a moment, then broke into a grin. "No use to askwhat it is, I suppose? I thought not. Well, " reflectively, and in alowered tone, "it won't do any harm to oblige you, if the front officeis willing. The party can't make a move that we won't know about; andthe fact is, I've just advised that no going out of any kind beventured on. So long, and good luck. "

The door closed behind Osborne, and then Ashton-Kirk followed thesoft-footed servant down the hall, up the stairs and into the presenceof Edyth Vale. 

The girl received him smilingly. 

"I'm getting to be a regular occurrence, " said he, as he sat down. 

"But a welcome one, nevertheless, " she returned. "Indeed, if it werenot for certain other depressing circumstances, I'd find your visitsdreadfully exciting. "

"I suppose Osborne is one of the circumstances referred to. I just methim in the hall, and he seemed to be quite in a state of mind. Whathave you been saying to him?--or rather, " smiling, "what have you_not_ been saying to him?"

"He came on what he calls 'police business, '" smiled Miss Vale. "Iconsidered it quite an alarming expression, and said so; but that madeno impression on him, for he proceeded with a string of wonderfullyconceived questions that must have covered my life from birth to thepresent time. "

"The police have about the same method for each case--a sort ofbullying insistence that breaks down denial by sheer weight. "

"I have read of it, frequently, in complaining articles in bothmagazines and newspapers. I think I have even seen it very earnestlycompared to the Inquisition. " The smile was still upon the girl's lip, but as she continued, her voice shook a little. "However, I neverthought to go through even a part of it myself. "

"What the police _say_ may be embarrassing and mortifying, " saidAshton-Kirk gravely, "but it is nothing at all, compared with whatthey might _do_. "

Miss Vale drew in her breath in a little gasp of terror; but she madean effort to conceal it with a laugh. 

"I know what you mean, " she said, lightly. "You think that they mightgo so far as to take me into custody as an accessory to the crime, oreven as the actual criminal. "

"Mr. Osborne told me that such was their intention, if you do notexplain clearly your connection with the case. I don't think that theDepartment is at all anxious to draw you into the matter; but some ofthe newspapers, as you no doubt have noted, have grown very insistent. They say that a poor musician is jailed instantly, while the woman offashion, who is perhaps equally guilty, is allowed to go free. Suchways of putting things have a great effect upon public opinion; thepoliticians who conduct the municipal departments know this, andalways move to protect themselves, no matter in what direction themovement takes them. "

"Then, " said Miss Vale, "you really think they will do as Mr. Osbornesaid?"

"I have no doubt of it--if the matter is not cleared up before thetime arrives for them to act. "

The girl arose and went to a window as though to look out; theinvestigator saw her hand pressed to her heart, and noted thetrembling that had seized her. Yet, when she faced him once more, amoment or two later, she made a brave attempt to smile as before. 

"I think this is too bad of you, " she said. "Your point of view isalmost as pessimistic as the detectives', or the newspapers'. I hadexpected comfort and encouragement. "

"And I came to give it--if you'll allow me, " said Ashton-Kirk, quietly. 

She looked at him for a moment, then both hands went out in a mockdespairing gesture, and she laughed. But the laugh was unmistakablyforced, and a keen ear for such things would have detected a patheticlittle catch in it. 

"Now, " she said, "you are becoming mysterious. However, I suppose Imust not complain, for it is entirely in character with yourprofession, isn't it?"

He disregarded both the observation and the tone; there was a slightpucker between his keen eyes that spoke of impatience and resentment. 

"Mr. Osborne has been very plain with you, Miss Vale, " said he, "youhave perhaps become accustomed to it in a measure. So I shall nothesitate to follow in his footsteps. I am going to make you face somevery plain facts. "

"Mercy!" She laughed. "Mercy, Mr. Ashton-Kirk. I had not thought thatyou could be so deliberately cruel!"

"In the first place, Miss Vale, " he began, paying not the slightestattention to her laughter or the mocking light in her eyes, "if youhad continued as you began, this matter would have been cleared upbefore this, the newspapers would never have printed your name inconnection with it, and you would have been spared the mortificationof a detective at your doorstep. "

"Is there one--outside?"

"There are several. If you venture out you will be followed whereveryou go. "

The girl sank into a chair in a limp, rumpled sort of way; somehow theidea of surveillance affected her more than anything else. Her facebecame ashen; her hands shook distressfully as she clasped themtightly together. 

"When you allowed the fears and desires of Allan Morris to cloud yourreason, you made a mistake. You admitted as much when you came to meafter the murder; but instantly, upon seeing him again, you were asbefore. He was struck with fear, and he communicated his terror toyou; as before you dreaded to trust anyone--even myself. "

"I think you are inclined to take a great deal for granted, " said MissVale. But in spite of the words, her eyes were wide with alarm. 

"He told you of the deaf-mute, Locke, " said Ashton-Kirk; "and alsoother things, which seem to have induced you to visit Locke at theInstitute near Cordova on the night before last. "

Miss Vale elevated her brows in surprise; her attitude was one ofwonderment. 

"I don't think I understand. "

"And you did not seem to understand yesterday when I called upon you. You fancied that I was not sure that I had seen you, and had comeexpecting you to admit the visit to Locke. And as I went away, youalso fancied that you had thrown me off the scent. " He smiled at therecollection, in spite of his evident resentment of her position. "Butthe fact of the matter was that I knew your fiancé had been the causeof your visit to the mute. You had seen Morris, you knew where he was, and I thought it would be a useful thing for me to be also acquaintedwith his whereabouts. "

"But, " protested Miss Vale in a faint voice, but still acting herchosen role to the best of her gifts, "if I had known and desired toconceal his whereabouts, surely you did not expect me to tell you ofit. "

"Not directly. But, if you remember, I dropped a hint that hishiding-place was about to be discovered. This was true; you were aboutto disclose it. I had only to wait and follow as you rushed off towarn him. "

She leaned back in her chair and regarded him strangely, but heproceeded with evenness:

"Your work upon the road was very clever; I congratulate you upon it. But it was scarcely sufficiently inspired to deceive an old hand. "

Here he waited, apparently expecting her to speak. But as she did nottake advantage of the pause, he went on:

"I called this morning to acquaint you with these things and to adviseyou on your future course. I must admit that I rather admire yoursteadfastness in following out what Allan Morris has desired of you;however, it is a great mistake for a strong nature to submit to theclamorings of a weaker one. "

She sat suddenly erect; protest was in her eyes, and one hand went upin denial. But, though her lips opened as though she were about tospeak, no words came; once more she sank back in the chair with theair of one compelled to admit a bitter truth. 

"I am not so sure as to how deep Morris is in this murder, " continuedthe investigator, "but I have some ideas on the subject. On the otherhand I am quite sure that you are promised to aid him, and that youfeel duty bound to do so to the end, according to his not very wiseinstructions. "

He arose and stood looking down at her kindly. 

"My advice to you, " he went on--"and I speak with a fair knowledge ofthe facts--is that you do nothing more. Be content with what you haveattempted; allow me to act for you in anything further which you havein mind. Or, if you cannot give me your confidence, let me carry thething on in my own way, as you proposed at the first. "

There was a pause of some length; then the girl spoke. 

"I am just a trifle bewildered at all this, " she said; "and I reallycannot say, Mr. Ashton-Kirk, that I altogether follow you. "

He smiled, but the disapproving wrinkle still showed between his eyes. 

"I see that you are still determined to hold to your attitude, " hesaid. "I am sorry, of course, but then one is called upon at times todo as one thinks best, and I suppose that is what you are doing. " Heturned toward the door, and she arose and touched the bell. "Good-by. "

"Good-by, " she returned. 

He stood for a moment in the doorway regarding her with mingledannoyance and admiration. As he caught the steps of the approachingservant in the hall, he said:

"Possibly I can save you some little trouble. You need not call at theRangnow Apartments. Up to last night, Allan Morris had not notifiedMr. Tobin as to his new hiding-place. However, if you feel that you_must_ see him, you can call at my place at this hour on the day afterto-morrow. I am not sure, of course, but it occurs to me that he willbe there. "

CHAPTER XXIII

THE SECRET OF THE PORTRAIT

The morning papers had all announced the fact that the detail ofpolice would that day be withdrawn from the scene of the murder inChristie Place. With them it had been a mere matter-of-fact news item, but with the evening sheets it was different. They had had time todigest the matter, and their view of the order was one of surprise. Two or three allowed this feeling to expand itself into headlines ofsome size; a few also commented on the situation editorially. 

Superintendent Weagle had been interviewed. He stated that he couldnot be expected to maintain a detail at 478 indefinitely; even withthe police withdrawn from within, so he maintained, the place would beas effectually guarded as were other buildings. What more wasrequired?

Ashton-Kirk read all this with some satisfaction in the lateafternoon. 

"They have given the thing even more publicity than I had hoped for, "he said, as he helped Pendleton in the details of a rough-lookingcostume which that worthy was donning. "It must be a bad day fornews, and they have plenty of space. At any rate, anyone who is at allinterested in the fact, is now aware that after six o'clock thisevening, 478 Christie Place will be unguarded, except for the regularpatrolman. Of course, " with a glance at Pendleton and another in amirror at himself, "if a brace of rough-looking characters are hiddenaway within, there will only be a few who know it. "

He opened a drawer and took out two black shining objects; the shortbarrels and blocky shapes told Pendleton that they were automaticrevolvers. 

"They will throw ten slugs as thick as your little finger while you'rewinking your eye as many times, " said Ashton-Kirk. 

They each slipped one of the squat, formidable weapons into a hippocket; then they made their way out at the rear of the house. Withthe collars of their sack coats turned up and their long visored clothcaps pulled down, they hurried along among the dull-eyed throngs thatbartered and quarreled and sought their own advantage. 

And when, in the uncertain dusk, a wagon drew up at 478 and twosack-coated, cloth-capped men began carrying parcels up the stairs, isit any wonder that Berg, watching from the window of his delicatessenstore, said to his clerk:

"Dot furrier that rents der rooms by der third floor is putting somemore things in storage over the summer, yet. "

And when the wagon finally drove away, neglectfully leaving the twomen behind, it is not surprising that the fancy grocer did not noticeit. And, then, when the two policemen who had been on duty during theafternoon, came out, carelessly left the door unlocked, looked up tomake sure that they had left none of the windows open, and then strodeaway with a satisfied air that follows a duty well done, who so keenlywatched as to suspect?

The shadows on the second floor lengthened and grew grayer; theythickened in the corners; pieces of furniture grew vague and monstrousas the darkness began to cling to them and their outlines became lost;suits of armor loomed menacingly out of the gloom, the last rays oflight striking palely upon helm or gorget; hideous gods of wood andstone smiled evilly at the two watchers. 

"There was food in the bundles which we carried up, then, " commentedPendleton, as he lay back on the old claw-footed sofa. 

"Yes, " answered his friend. "The person or persons whom we expect willhardly come to-night, though we, of course, don't know; if they failto appear we shall be forced to stick close to these rooms during thewhole of to-morrow and also to-morrow night. Perhaps it will even belonger. "

"In that case, " said Pendleton, a little disconsolately, "the eatableswill be very welcome. But I hope we won't have to stay long enough tofinish them. "

"Perhaps, " said Ashton-Kirk, "I've let you in for too hard a task inthis, Pen?"

The other rose up instantly. 

"You couldn't give me too much to do in this matter, " declared he, earnestly. "I would do it alone if you were not here, and I had brainsenough, Kirk. The thing must _end_. If it goes on much longer and Ikeep seeing those infernal insinuations in the papers, I'll gocompletely off my chump. "

There was a little silence; then Ashton-Kirk said:

"I never knew that you were--ah--this way, old chap, until the otherday. How long has it been going on?"

"Why, for years, I think, " answered Pendleton. "Being very distantlyrelated, Edyth and I saw quite a deal of each other when she was aslip of a girl. And she was a stunner, Kirk, even then. Kid-like, Ifancied I'd get it all over with when the proper time came; butsomehow I never got around to it. She turned out to be a dickens of astrong character, you see; and she expected so much of life that Igot the notion that perhaps I wasn't just the right sort of fellow torealize her ideals. 

"You know, old boy, there are times when a man thinks quite a bit ofhimself. This is more especially so before he's twenty-five. But thenagain there are times when he sees his bad points only, and then ofall the unutterable dolts in the universe, he gets the notion that heis the worst. When we were at college and I held down that third baseposition and hit 320 in the first season, I was chesty enough. Isuppose you remember it. And when I came into my money and began tomake collections of motor cars, yachts and such things, I thought Ihad taken life by the ears and was making it say 'uncle. '

"Well, we're only grown-up boys, after all. I recall that I thoughtI'd dazzle Edyth with my magnificence, just as Tom Sawyer did thelittle girl with the two long braids of yellow hair--do you remember?And it was after I discovered that she was not to be dazzled that Isort of gave up. I wasn't anybody--I never would be anybody; and Edythwould be the sort of woman who would expect her husband to take thefront at a jump. And no sensible person could imagine me at the frontof anything, unless it was a procession on its way to the bow-wows. "

"I think, " said Ashton-Kirk, "that you began to prostrate yourselfbefore your idol; and when a man takes to that, he always gets tothinking meanly of himself. The attitude has much to do with the stateof mind, I imagine. Miss Vale is a courageous, capable girl; but youcan never tell what sort of a man a woman will select for a husband. Girls have fancies upon the subject, and give voice to them sometimes;but it is the man they choose and not the one they picture to whom youmust give your attention. "

"I suppose that is true enough, " said Pendleton. 

"Miss Vale's evident strength awed you, " went on the other. "And thenyour timidity began to magnify her qualities. No woman is what sheseems to be to the man who loves her. Miss Vale is not so difficult toplease as you thought. I fancy that her engagement to young Morrisproves that. "

"There you have it, " cried Pendleton. "That's it, Kirk! I've stoodaside, considering myself unworthy, and allowed a fellow to slip by mewho is as colorless as water. Allan Morris is no more fit to be herhusband than--" at loss for a simile he halted for a moment, and thenburst out: "Oh, he's impossible!"

"So far as we have tested him, certainly, " agreed Ashton-Kirk, "he hasshown no great strength of character. "

"He's acted like a frightened child all through this affair. He'smixed up in it, and through his weakness allowed Edyth to alsoentangle herself. Again and again he's run to her, or called to her, to tell her of some fresh complication that he'd gotten his frightenedself into; and to protect him, she has dared and done what would havefrightened an ordinary woman into fits. "

"I think, " observed Ashton-Kirk, "that she has realized his position, to some extent, at least. The fact that he is weak has, I think, dawned upon her already; she may also see his evident selfishnessbefore long. If she does--why, might there not still be some hope foryou, Pen?"

Pendleton shook his head in the gloom. 

"I'm afraid not, " said he, hopelessly. "Somehow a weak man makes agreat appeal to the woman who has grown to care for him. He arousesher mother instinct. And Edyth is so strong that her pity--"

"May induce her to do her utmost to see him through this trouble, "interrupted Ashton-Kirk. "But it may not carry her much further. Whenonce the thing is over, a reaction may set in. Who knows?"

But Pendleton refused to be comforted. For a long time they talked ofEdyth Vale, Morris, and the killing of Hume. Finally Pendleton said:

"I suppose we can't smoke here to-night, can we?"

"No; the lights might be seen; and we can't tell what sharp eyes arewatching the place. "

Pendleton sighed drearily. 

There were many clocks in the rooms; the policemen must have amusedthemselves by winding and setting them; for at the end of each hourthey began to strike, singly and in pairs. The brisk strokes of thenervous little modern clock mingled with the solemn sonorous beat ofan old New England timepiece whose wooden works creaked and laboredcomplainingly. Elaborate Swiss chimes pealed from others; through thedarkness, a persistent cuckoo could be heard throwing open a smallshutter and stridently announcing his version of the time. 

It was some time after midnight that Pendleton began to yawn. ThenAshton-Kirk said:

"Open some of those blankets, Pen, and lie down. There is no need oftwo of us watching to-night; I scarcely expect anything to happen. "

Pendleton did not expect anything, either, but he said:

"All right, I will, if you'll wake me in a few hours and let me take aturn at it. "

Ashton-Kirk agreed. Pendleton stretched himself upon the sofa, andsoon his deep breathing told that he was asleep. As the night drew on, the solitary watcher grew chilled in the unheated rooms and huddledhimself into another blanket; but he sat near the door leading to thehall, which was slightly ajar; and though his eyes closed sometimes inweariness, he never lost a sound in the street or a tick of one of theclocks. Through the entire night he watched and waited almost withoutmoving; it was not until the dawn of a gray, dirty day began tosomewhat lighten the room that he aroused Pendleton. The latterexpostulated sleepily when he noted the time; but with scarcely a wordthe investigator took his place upon the sofa and dropped off tosleep. 

About nine o'clock he awoke and found his friend arranging theirbreakfast upon a small table. 

"I say, Kirk, " said Pendleton, admiringly, "you did this thing ratherthoroughly. There's quite a tasty little snack here; and the thermosbottles have kept the coffee steaming. "

At the water tap in the rear the investigator bathed his hands andface; then he sat down with his friend and did complete justice to thebreakfast. Afterwards, with their cigars going nicely and a feeling ofcomfort stealing over them in spite of the rather uncomfortable night, Pendleton said:

"You promised the other night to tell me what made you think that themurderers had failed to secure the thing they sought. The words thatthe promise was couched in made me think that you had also somethingto show me, and as we could not light up last night, I've waitedpatiently until to-day. Now you must ease my curiosity. Come, tell mea few things. "

Ashton-Kirk took his cigar from his mouth. 

"I told you, " said he, "that the reports of Burgess and Fuller, together with the conversation we had with Tobin, had enlightened meupon these points. " As he enumerated them, he checked them off withhis fingers:

"_Why the murder was done. _

"_The identity of the confederate of Locke. _

"_That the man would return to the scene of the crime. _"

"Yes, " said Pendleton, "those, I think, were the points. "

"The first two, " went on the investigator, "I will allow to stand fora while. But I promised to illustrate for you, and I think I can doso. "

Ashton-Kirk here arose and passed through the storeroom and kitcheninto the bedroom. 

"The writing upon the step in the hall, " said he, facing his friend, "directed Locke's confederate to look for something behind Wayne'sportrait. As all the pictures of Wayne in the place were broken orotherwise showed traces of rough handling, it seemed that the thingdesired must have been found. However, I was not sure about that, asI have told you. 

"If you will recall Tobin's remarks of the other night, you will notethat the only thing he could admire in the man's character was hisfighting spirit. Then it developed that Hume made a boast of havingcome by this naturally enough. He claimed descent from one ofWashington's officers. Tobin could not recall the officer's name; buthe related an anecdote of him that was unmistakable. The officer wasGeneral Wayne!"

"By George!" cried Pendleton. 

"The collection of Wayne portraits was in this way explained. It wasalso suggested to me that Hume might be an assumed name--that thenumismatist might have once been known as Wayne, and that Locke hadknown him by that name. Of course, it's quite likely that he was notreally a descendant of Wayne. But he probably called himself Waynenevertheless. 

"I see, " said Pendleton, his hands waving with excitement. "And in thestress of the moment, Locke wrote the name 'Wayne' upon the step incandle grease, forgetting that his confederate only knew theirproposed victim as Hume. " His eyes rested upon the walls and upon thesneering, unpleasant portrait of the murdered man. "He meant that thething he desired was _there_, " indicating the portrait with anexultant sweep of the arm. "And by George, it must be there still. "

He sprang forward with the evident intention of wrenching the picturefrom the wall; but Ashton-Kirk restrained him. 

"Don't, " said he. "We'll leave that for our expected visitor. "

"Surely, " protested the excited Pendleton, "you don't propose to leavethe thing there! Think of the risk! You might lose it in the end; for, you know, one never foresees what is to turn up. "

"A fisherman must always risk losing his lure, " answered theinvestigator composedly. 

They spent the long hours of the day in smoking and talking; and atintervals they ate the sandwiches and other things which had beensmuggled in in the guise of packages of furs. And finally the shadowsgathered and thickened once again in Christie Place. 

CHAPTER XXIV

THE SECOND NIGHT

The second night of the vigil in Hume's rooms wore on. Unlike thepreceding one, the two young men were almost entirely silent; whenthey did speak, it was in tones so low as to be scarcely above awhisper. 

There was a taut, indefinable something in the air that kept thedesire for sleep from both; in the brooding darkness they were alert, watchful, expectant. The tobacco-loving Pendleton afterwards recalledwith surprise that not once did he think of the weed. But when thequeer, mysterious night sounds began to come--those creakings of looseplanks, strainings of unseen timbers and untraceable snappings in thewalls, that are common in old houses--he frequently thought of theautomatic revolver; and the chill of the polished metal always feltcomforting enough. 

The clocks announced the ends of the hours according to theirtemperaments; coming in the midst of the total silence, the din seemedto Pendleton to be terrific; he pictured appalled criminals on theirway through the dark halls, crouching in fear at the sounds. Eleveno'clock struck, and then twelve with its continued uproar. It seemed along time before one and then two sounded. Pendleton's limbs werebeginning to feel loggy and numb because of the chill and thecontinued inaction. He had ventured to stir them a little, and waswrapping the heavy blanket more closely about himself, when he feltAshton-Kirk's hand upon his shoulder. 

"Hush-h-h!" said the investigator in a whisper. 

Instantly Pendleton was motionless; he listened intently, but thesilence of the place seemed complete. 

"What is it?" he finally ventured to breathe. 

The hand upon his shoulder tightened warningly; but there came noother reply. Again Pendleton listened. The door of the showroom stoodopen; Ashton-Kirk had placed it so in order that they might catch anysound that came from the hall. All the other doors leading into thehall from Hume's apartments were securely locked; anyone who venturedinto the suite must first pass through the showroom where the twowaited and watched. 

After a space Pendleton's attention was rewarded; a faint, far-offrustling came to him; somehow it gave him the impression ofhesitation, non-assurance, timidity; he was speculating upon thequeerness of this impression when there came a faint, momentary glowfrom the hall--mysterious, phosphorescent, unreal; and then itvanished. Both young men were huddled upon the sofa, which was placedfacing the open door. A huge Spanish screen was drawn before them; butthe black leather was cracked in places; and through these they had aclear view of the hall. 

A moment later the glow appeared once more; but this time it wasbrighter. 

"Someone is on the stairs, " reasoned Pendleton, his hand going to hisrevolver. "It looks as though he were lighting matches to show theway. "

Between the sputters of light were spaces of darkness; these were;filled in by the faint guarded rustling. But as the light upon eachappearance grew brighter, so did the sound become more distinct; andat length a light resonance, unmistakably a footstep, came from thehall. 

Then steadily, softly the sound came on through the darkness; nearerand nearer it drew until at length it became unmistakable. _Therustling was that of a woman's skirts!_ Then, so it seemed, thedarkness of the doorway grew denser; the soft, quick breathing of thenewcomer became audible; her hands were heard moving over the doorframe as she blindly searched for the door. 

Then, apparently, she learned that the door was open; a deeper breathshowed the relief she felt at this; now she carefully entered theroom. 

Even before Pendleton's brain realized who it must be, he began tofeel a tightening at his heart; and now as he pictured her advancingwith outstretched, groping hands into the darkened room--a roomhorrible with crime and secret dread--it was all that he could do tohold himself in check. He had almost an overmastering desire to springup, to cry out to her, to tell her not to fear. 

He was still struggling with this feeling when he became aware thatshe had paused; and, also, that Ashton-Kirk was once more gripping hisshoulder with a warning hand. Becoming instantly alert, his sensesperceived a stoppage of everything; the clocks seemed to tick morefaintly, he could no longer hear the woman breathe. There was aninstant that roared with silence; then came the soft, steady paddingof feet descending the stair. 

Then he heard the girl release her breath in a great, tremblingexhalation; the rustle of skirts came quick and sharp in the darkness;he heard the door through which she had entered the room squeak uponits hinges and then close with a click that proclaimed it fast. 

After this there was a long pause. Pendleton could hear the faintbreathing of the girl, and thought it rather odd that she did notcatch the sound of his own. He pictured her leaning against thelocked door, her heart throbbing with fear as she listened to thedescending footsteps; stronger and stronger grew his desire to leap upand assure her that friends were at hand. But at the same time thewarning grip of his companion, who seemed to feel what was in hismind, also grew stronger and stronger. 

With the closing of the door, the sounds from the stairs had ceased toreach them. There was a long pause; Pendleton, during this, grewsensible of a long, wavering mental antenna which he projected intothe shadows; and its delicate sensitiveness told him of the silentapproach of a fearful thing. A long, long time, it seemed to him, butin reality it was remarkably brief. 

Then the steps were heard, shuffling and secret, in the hall and verynear at hand. A soft, uncertain touch fell upon the smooth glass ofthe door; down its length the inquiring fingers traveled; then thehandle was tried, held a moment and quietly released. 

The steps then receded lightly down the hall. 

For some moments all was quiet, then there came the scratch of a matchfrom the hall, and its accompanying flare, seen through the glass ofthe door. A little space more, and a rending sound came to their ears, followed by the falling of some metallic objects upon the floor. Pendleton required no explanation of these sounds; it was plain thatthe second intruder had come prepared and had forced one of the doors. 

All the communicating doors of the suite had been left open; throughthem came the pushing about of furniture and the drawing down ofblinds; then another match flared, followed by a stronger and steadierlight, which showed that the second visitor had lighted the gas. Thelight filtered palely through the various rooms into the one in whichthe two men and the woman were hidden; by means of this the formercould make the latter out in a dim, uncertain sort of way. She seemedunusually tall as she moved noiselessly across the floor and peeredcautiously through the communicating doorways. 

[Illustration: WHAT SHE SAW MUST HAVE STARTLED HER]

What she saw must have startled her, for she drew quickly back, herhand pressed to her heart. Then softly she retraced her steps; theyheard the door-catch slip quietly back and were conscious that thedoor was swung open; the woman then crept inch by inch, so it seemed, down the hall. 

It was the bedroom door that had been forced; the two watchers notedthe bar of light that slanted from it across the passage. Nearer andnearer the woman approached to it. Pendleton had at first thought thatshe was making for the stairs; but this died away as she passed them, unheeding. The automatic revolver was in his hand instantly; leaningtoward his friend, he breathed in his ear. 

"She's going in there. "

The blanket slipped from him as he arose to his feet; his legs werestill cramped and stiffened; he felt clumsy and unsure. Ashton-Kirkevidently agreed that the time had come for action, for he whisperedin reply:

"Through the rooms! I will take the hall!"

Pendleton stepped from behind the screen like a shadow. Through thedoor leading to the storeroom he had an uninterrupted view of a partof the bedroom; and across the floor he saw thrown the shadow of aman. Noiselessly he tip-toed into the kitchen, the revolver heldready; just outside the bedroom he paused, and drawing to one side, waited. Then he noted the shadow move slightly, and heard a deeprumbling voice say in French:

"You were a devil! Even now as I look at you, you laugh and jibe!" Theshadow upon the floor here swung its arms threateningly. "But laughaway. I have won, and it is my turn to laugh!"

Here the shadow slid along and up the wall; peering around the edge ofthe door, Pendleton saw a man with massive, stooped shoulders and agreat square head, covered with thick, iron-gray hair; and instantlyhe recognized him as the man whom they had seen that night in thedoorway of Locke's workshop. The stranger was standing just under theportrait of Hume; he gazed up at it, and his big shoulders shook withlaughter. 

"What a mistake to make, " he said, still in French. "How was I to knowthat the old devil once called himself Wayne!"

He reached up and took the picture from its hook; with thick, powerfulfingers he tore the backing away, and a flat, compact bundle of paperswas disclosed. The picture was thrown upon the bed, and the man stoodstaring at the papers, a wide smile upon his face. 

"So this is the secret, eh? Well, Locke will pay well for it, and itwill be worth all the risks I've taken. "

He was fumbling with a coat pocket as though to stow them away, whenthere came a swift, light rush, the packet was torn from his hands, and Edyth Vale was darting toward the hall door and the stairwaybeyond. 

But despite his bulk, the man with the stooped shoulders provedhimself singularly swift. In two leaps he had overtaken her; draggingher back to the center of the room, he snatched the packet from her inturn. Regarding her with calm, pitiless eyes, he said in English:

"I am sorry, mees, that you have come, eh? Eet makes eet mooch harderfor me. And I am of the kind that would rather be off quietly, is itnot? and say no words to no one. "

Edyth Vale, pale of face, but with steady eye, returned his look. 

"What are you going to do?" she asked. 

"I am sorry to do anything, " spoke the stranger. "I do not know you, and you will onderstan', will you not, that I can't leave youbehind--to talk?"

As he spoke a flashing something appeared from the girl's pocket; helifted one huge paw to beat her down; but a clenched hand, protectedby a corded buckskin glove, thudded against his jaw; his kneesweakened, and he sprawled upon the floor. 

"Jimmie!" gasped Edyth Vale. "Jimmie Pendleton!"

"Oh, Edyth--Edyth!" was all the man could say. He slipped his armaround her, for she was tottering; and as he helped her to a chair, Ashton-Kirk quietly entered at the hall door. 

"Miss Vale, " said he, "good-evening. "

Without waiting to note if she even gave him a look, he bent over thefallen man and snapped a pair of handcuffs upon his wrists. 

"A very pretty blow, Pen, " said he, admiringly. "Beautifully timed, and your judgment of distance was excellent. "

He slipped the fallen papers into his pocket and continued: "Keep aneye on him, for a moment. "

Then he stepped swiftly through the hall; a moment later they heardhim throw up one of the windows overlooking the street, and a whistleshrilled through the night. 

"Paulson is on duty, " said the investigator, returning. "He'll be herein a jiffy. "

Sure enough, they soon heard heavy steps upon the stairs; and thenPaulson and a fellow patrolman appeared in the doorway. Astonished, the policeman gazed at Ashton-Kirk, who nodded to them smilingly, thenthey turned their gaze upon Pendleton, who was speaking soothing wordsto the white-faced girl, who, now that the danger was over, clung tohim tremblingly. But when their eyes centered upon the manacledstranger who was then dazedly struggling to a sitting position, Paulson asked:

"Who is this?"

"This, " answered Ashton-Kirk, "is M. Sagon, a fellow lodger of AntonioSpatola, formerly a very close friend of the late Mr. Hume, and once aresident of Bayonne, in France. "

CHAPTER XXV

APPROACHING THE FINISH

Pendleton spent the night at Ashton-Kirk's; and after breakfast hewandered into the library, a newspaper in his hand and an inquiringlook on his face. 

The investigator was seated in his usual big chair, buried to theknees in newspapers, and making vigorous inroads upon the Greektobacco. Fuller was just leaving the room as Pendleton entered, andnodding toward the disappearing form, Ashton-Kirk said:

"There is some rather interesting news. I have had Locke, as youperhaps know, under observation for some time. Last night he took thetrain at Cordova, and Burgess followed him. When he reached the city, he went directly to Christie Place and was seen lurking about in theshadows. "

"Humph, " said Pendleton, "what time was this?"

"Perhaps about eleven o'clock. Burgess, so Fuller tells me, never lostsight of him. He acted in a queerly hesitating sort of way; finally, however, he seemed to form a resolution and went to the door of theMarx house. He was about to pull the bell, then paused and tried thedoor instead. It was evidently not locked. He seemed both surprisedand pleased at this; he lost no time, however, but went in at once. "

Pendleton sat down. 

"What do you suppose all this meant?" he asked. 

"Well, we can't be too sure, " replied Ashton Kirk, "but I think itprobable that he, also, saw the news of the withdrawal of the policein the papers. Perhaps he came to Christie Place with the intention ofinforming Sagon of the opportunity that then presented itself. Or itmight be that he had hopes of somehow over-reaching his companion incrime. "

"His lurking about would seem to point rather in that direction, " saidPendleton. 

"And his preferring to enter the lodging house without ringing alsoindicates some such idea. As I see it, he hoped to gain the roofunobserved. He knew the house and the habits of the people quite well. No doubt he had a plan, and a good one. He's a thinker, is Mr. Locke. "

"If he was noticed, he could indicate that he had called to see M. Sagon. "

"Exactly. But I very much doubt his gaining the roof. Perhaps, afterall, he was detected; for a few minutes later Burgess saw him leavethe house. "

"Humph!" said Pendleton. Then after some few moments spent in theexamination of his paper he threw it down. "It's full of all sorts ofallusions to monoplanes and such like, " grumbled he. "As I had to takeEdyth home last night, and you went bravely away with the police andSagon, I find myself, as usual, trailing some distance in the rear. "

Ashton-Kirk regarded the litter of newspapers ruefully:

"I gave them the heads of the case very plainly, " said he, "but as itwas almost the hour for going to press, I suppose they did not get thefiner points of my meaning. Some of them have made a sad mess of it. However, the evening papers will have a coherent account, I suppose. "

"If you think I am going to wait until the evening papers are issuedto get to the bottom of this thing, you're much mistaken, " declaredPendleton. "I demand a full and detailed explanation immediately. "

Here a tap came upon the door; Stumph entered and handed Ashton-Kirk acard. 

"Let him come up, " said the latter; and, as the man went out, hecontinued to Pendleton. "We will both probably be much enlightenednow. It is Allan Morris. "

"Just as you said, " spoke Pendleton. "It's really almost like secondsight. "

The investigator laughed. 

"A small feat of reasoning, nothing more, " said he. "However, anenthusiast might find some of the elements of second sight in ourconversation in this room about a week ago. "

Pendleton looked at him questioningly. 

"It was on the morning that you called to announce the coming of MissVale. We were speaking of how it sometimes happened that very innocentthings led to most weighty results; and I remarked, if you willremember, that your visit might lead to my connection with a murderthat would dwarf some of those which we had spoken of. "

"So you did, " agreed Pendleton. "That _is_ rather remarkable, Kirk. "

"And further, " smiled the investigator, "I recall that I expressedgreat admiration for Marryat's conception of a homicide in the matterof Smallbones and the hag. The weapon used by Smallbones, it turnsout, was identical in character to the one used by Sagon. "

"A bayonet, " cried Pendleton. "By George! So it was. "

Just then Stumph announced Allan Morris. 

The latter was pale and haggard; his clothes were neglected, and therewere some days' beard upon his chin. He seemed astonished at sight ofPendleton; however, he only nodded. Then he said inquiringly to theinvestigator:

"You are Mr. Ashton-Kirk?"

"I am. Will you sit down, Mr. Morris?"

Morris sat down dejectedly. 

"Tobin advised me to come see you, " he said. "I refused at first; butin view of what the newspapers contain this morning, I reconsideredit. "

Ashton-Kirk nodded. 

"If you had, come to me in the first place, " said he, "you'd probablynot have fallen into this mess, and you'd have saved yourself a greatdeal of suffering. " He regarded the young man for a moment, and thenwent on. "Miss Vale, I suppose, has told you of her dealings with me. "

"She has, " said Morris. "She's been very candid with me in everything. If I had been the same with her, " bitterly, "I should have acted morelike a natural human being. You see, we were to be married; she wasvery rich, while I had comparatively nothing. But this in itselfwould not have been sufficient to have prevented our wedding for solong. The fact was that I had gotten myself into trouble throughspeculation; I had a fear that my position might even be consideredcriminal from some points of view. And I allowed myself to get nervousover it. 

"However, there was a way by which it was possible for me toextricate myself. To explain this I'll have to go back some years. "

"Take your own time, " said Ashton-Kirk. 

"Well, my father had worked for years perfecting the plans of aheavier-than-air flying machine, " Morris resumed. "At the time of hisdeath he told me that it was all complete but the constructing, andthat I had millions within my reach. But Hume had the plans--my fatherhad borrowed money of him--a considerable sum--and had given him theplans as security. 

"Hume had always derided the idea of the monoplane. Tobin, who knewthem both, tells me that he was forever mocking my father upon thesubject. And when the time came when the plans could be redeemed, Humedenied having them. There was no receipt, nothing to show that thetransaction had ever occurred. The man declared that the whole thingwas a drunken dream. He had never seen any plans; he had never paidout any money; he knew nothing about the matter. Time and again theman reiterated this; and each time, so I've heard, he would gooff into gales of laughter. I have no doubt but that the entireperformance on his part was to afford himself these opportunities; heseemed to love such things. "

"Was it not possible for your father to duplicate the plans?"

"At an earlier time it would have meant but a few weeks' applicationat most. But at this period the thing was impossible. The last longdebauch seemed to have sapped his intellect; it also was the directcause of his death. "

"I see, " said Ashton-Kirk. 

"I took the matter up with Hume at once, " went on the young man. "ButI had no more success than my father. In the man's eyes, I had butreplaced my father; I was another patient subject for his mockery, derision and abuse. 

"There were some scattered drawings of the monoplane in father'soffice; I began a study of these, thinking to chance upon theprincipal idea. But I was unsuccessful. 

"All this, you understand, was before I had met Miss Vale, and beforeI was tangled up in the trouble I have just mentioned. 

"The fear began to grow on me that Hume meant to use the plans to hisown advantage; I knew that he had long been familiar with Locke, whowas reputed to be a mechanical genius, and between them, I fanciedthey'd take action. I began a watch upon the reports of the PatentOffice, thinking that that would finally give me something tangible touse against them. However, I never gave up my visits to Hume, or myefforts to make him admit possession of my father's property. 

"It was during one of these visits that I first met Spatola; and Iwas much struck by the performance of his cockatoos. My father hadalways held to the idea that the problem of flight would be finallysolved by a study of the birds; this gave me an idea, and I took tovisiting Spatola in his lodgings in Christie Place. He'd have thecockatoos fly slowly round and round the big attic, and I'd watch themand make notes. 

"It was about this time that I met Miss Vale and asked her to be mywife; a very little later, in an effort to raise money, I got into thefinancial trouble which I have referred to. After a little thequestion of a time for our marriage came up; I was filled with fearand put it off; this occurred several times, and I was at my wits'end. I could not marry with that thing hanging over me. Suppose itshould turn out as I feared; imagine the shock to a high spirited girlto discover that she had married a defaulter. 

"It was then that I turned to the matter of the plans as my only hope;with a perfected idea I could readily secure a large sum of money inadvance. So I redoubled my efforts to have a settlement with Hume; buthe only derided me as usual. Continued visits to Spatola to study theflight of the birds, showed me that the Italian was a fine fellow, well educated and with much feeling and appreciation. We became fastfriends and so, little by little, I told him my story. "

"About the invention?" asked Ashton-Kirk. 

"Yes. "

The investigator turned to Pendleton. 

"I think, " said he, "that I now understand why Spatola grew souncommunicative and suspicious toward the end of our interview at CityHall. We both thought it was because I spoke of shorthand. But it wasperhaps because I mentioned an _invention_ in the way of writingmusic. He feared that I was trying to incriminate Mr. Morris in someway. "

Pendleton nodded. 

"That, " said he, "I think explains it. "

"As you no doubt know, " went on Morris, after the investigator hadonce more given him his attention, "Spatola liked Hume none too well. And he had reason for his hatred, poor fellow. Well, he becameinterested in what I told him; and when he learned that I believed myfather's papers were in all probability somewhere in Hume'sapartments, he suggested that I come to live in Christie Place underan assumed name. He thought that in time an opportunity would presentitself to cross the roofs some night, enter Hume's place by thescuttle and so possess myself of the plans. 

"On the day preceding the murder, I had made up my mind to have onemore try with Hume; and if that failed I intended to follow Spatola'sadvice, break in and take the plans by force. I was so full of thisresolution that I could not contain myself; I hinted at it to MissVale; and the result of that hint, you know. "

He leaned his face forward in his hands and seemed to give way to abitter train of thought. He was evidently despondent. 

"It was also some such hint upon your part that induced her to visitLocke at Dr. Mercer's place, wasn't it?"

Morris raised his head and nodded. 

"Yes, " he said. "After the murder I suspected Locke at once of havingsomething to do with it. I told Miss Vale; she went there without myknowledge--seeing that I had not the courage to go myself, " he addedbitterly--"and demanded the plans. "

"And she learned that they were still at Hume's--behind the portrait?"

"Yes. Locke told her--he was overcome with horror at the murder. Hehad merely desired to secure the plans, --having somehow learned theirhiding place. He had no intention of killing Hume. "

"But why did Sagon do it?--he must have had it in mind when he boughtthe bayonet at Bernstine's, " said Pendleton, looking at Ashton-Kirk. 

"He had. Do you recall how Burgess' report spoke of a league ofsmugglers in Europe of which Hume was a leading spirit, and also ofhow they had been captured and nearly all but Hume were tried andconvicted?"

"Yes. "

"Sagon was one of those convicted. The diamonds which Hume tried tosmuggle into this country were to have been turned into money at thetime of the gang's arrest and the proceeds spent in their defense. Butinstead of doing this, Hume left his comrades to their fate andabsconded. When Sagon gained his freedom he began a search for Hume, meaning to have revenge. This search finally led him to Locke as aperson who had known Hume, and who would be likely to be able to tellwhere he could be found. "

"Sagon has told you this?" queried Pendleton. 

"Yes; he talked freely, after he saw that his case was hopeless; andhe, too, insisted that Locke did not intend to commit murder. Locke, even at the time of his meeting Sagon, was looking for someone to aidhim in gaining possession of the Morris plans. The work-shop whichwe saw beside Locke's house contained a monoplane in course ofconstruction; but there was something lacking which he felt Morris'splans could supply; and so he was anxious to get hold of it by hook orcrook. 

"Sagon, whose purpose from the first was murder, was not at all averseto combining it with something else. He took the room at Mrs. Marx'splace, after he had perceived that an entrance could probably be madeat Hume's by way of the scuttle. The well dressed 'business guys' thatthe machinist on the first floor spoke about to us, were no doubtLocke, who frequently called upon Sagon, and Mr. Morris here, whom theman did not suspect of being a lodger. 

"To prove a theory that I had formed, and which I have mentioned in avague sort of way, " went on Ashton-Kirk, "I asked Sagon why he hadused a bayonet. And it turned out as I had thought. Sagon and Hume hadfirst met at Bayonne; the greater part of their operations had beencarried on there; the band had been finally rounded up and convictedthere. The bayonet, so legend has it, was first made in Bayonne, andSagon conceived that it would be a sort of poetic justice if thetraitor were to die by a weapon so closely connected with the scene ofhis treachery. "

There was a pause after this, and then young Morris got up slowly andpainfully. 

"I don't want it to be thought, " said he "that I was directlyresponsible for Miss Vale's adventure of last night--or for any of theothers, for the matter of that. If I had known at the time that sheproposed visiting Locke's, or Hume's, either upon the night of themurder, or last night, I would have prevented it. "

Ashton-Kirk nodded kindly; the young man's position evidentlyappealed to him. But Pendleton sat rather stiffly in his chair and hisexpression never changed. 

"I will now come into possession of whatever value there is in myfather's invention, " went on Morris, "and added to that, it turns outthat the--the other thing, of which I stood so much in fear, hasturned out favorably. But, " in a disheartened sort of way, "I don'tcare much, now that my engagement with Miss Vale is broken. "

"Broken!" exclaimed Pendleton. 

"I saw her this morning, " said Morris. "During the past week, " hecontinued, "it gradually came to me that I was not the sort of man tomake her a fitting husband. I hid like a squirrel while she faced thedangers that should have been mine. I knew that she realized thesituation as well as I, and I did what I could by making it easy forher. "

He paused at the door. 

"If there is anything that I can do, or say in the final settlement ofthis case, " he added, to Ashton-Kirk, "I will gladly place myself atyour services, sir. Good-bye. "

CHAPTER XXVI

THE FINISH

"For the first time, " said Pendleton, as the door closed upon AllanMorris, "I can feel sorry for him. To lose a girl like Edyth Vale isindeed a calamity. Think of the courage she's shown--of what she waswilling to do. Why, Kirk, she's one in ten thousand. "

But Ashton-Kirk only nodded; he had arisen upon the departure ofMorris, and was now drawing on a pair of gloves. The splendidqualities of Miss Vale apparently had little appeal for him at thatmoment. 

"Are you ready?" he asked, in a business-like way. 

"Ready?" repeated Pendleton, surprised. 

"To be sure. We can scarcely call this case complete until somethinghas been done in the matter of Locke. "

"That's so. But, somehow, I had the notion that your men had alreadyattended to him. "

"I always prefer to finish my work in my own way, " said theinvestigator. "Osborne, as soon as he heard of Locke, through Sagon, wanted to take up the trail. But I convinced him that he'd betterleave it to me. "

Pendleton clapped on his hat. 

"I'm with you, " said he, "but where do you expect to find him?"

Ashton-Kirk rang for Stumph and ordered the car; then he replied:

"We'll more than likely find him at home. Burgess followed him back toCordova, last night. "

They went down and climbed into the car, and were soon on the road. 

A little distance from the Mercer Institute they came upon a compactlooking man seated upon the top rail of a fence, chewing at a straw. He wore heavy, much-splashed boots and a sun-scorched suit of clothes. 

"Ah, " said Ashton-Kirk, "I see Burgess is still on the job. "

"Burgess, " echoed Pendleton. He looked at the man upon the fence insurprise; except for the very broad shoulders there was noresemblance. 

However, Burgess grinned amiably through a rather neglected growth ofbeard. 

"I expected you along about this time, " said he, to the investigator. 

"Is everything all right?" asked Ashton-Kirk. 

"He's still there, " answered Burgess, and he nodded toward a housewith a peaked and slated roof which stood some little distance up anintersecting road. It was the same house through the window of whichPendleton had seen Edyth Vale some nights previously, but, somehow, itseemed strange and unfamiliar in daylight. 

"I can see three sides of it from here, " went on Burgess. "And if hedropped out of one of the windows on the fourth side I could sight himbefore he'd gone fifty yards. You may be sure he's there, all right. "

"You've heard of what took place last night, I suppose?"

Burgess tapped a folded newspaper at his breast pocket. 

"So has Locke, " said he. "Apparently his orders are to furnish himwith the papers as soon as they arrive. A man from the Institutebuilding brought one to him more than an hour ago. "

Just then Ashton-Kirk noted far up the road upon which Locke's housestood, a very small buggy, drawn by an equally small horse. In thebuggy sat a man whose huge bulk seemed to bulge out beyond its sides. Arriving before Locke's house, the small horse stopped, as though fromhabit. Then with a mighty effort, the fat man rolled out and waddledto the gate. He pressed and re-pressed the button; but no oneanswered. 

Ashton-Kirk looked at his assistant. 

"Are you quite sure that our man is there, " asked he. 

Burgess chewed his straw calmly. 

"I'm positive of it, " said he. 

The fat man now entered at the gate and going to the front door, triedit. But it was evidently fast, and he turned away. Hesitating for amoment, he laboriously approached the work shop, the roof of whichcould be seen through the trees. Apparently the result was the samehere, for in a very few minutes he was seen to waddle back to hisbuggy and climb in with much effort. Then the small horse ambledforward while the fat man leaned back in great distress. 

"You recognize him, do you not?" smiled Ashton-Kirk. 

"I do, now, " returned Pendleton. "It's our friend Dr. Mercer. "

When the buggy arrived at the spot where the motor-car stood, thedoctor regarded its occupants with some surprise. 

"Good-morning, " greeted Ashton-Kirk. 

Painfully, gaspingly the other answered this in kind. The round whiteface wore an expression of martyrdom. 

"I am pleased to see you once more, " said he. 

"You like driving in the morning, then?" said the investigator. 

The principal's flesh quivered with repulsion. 

"It is an exercise ordered by my physician, " he answered. "I protestedagainst it strongly, but he was obdurate. And I am compelled to do itbefore I have had my breakfast, " hollowly. "It is scarcely short ofbarbarous. "

Here the small horse stretched its neck and shook itself until theharness rattled. Pendleton looking from master to beast thought theymight exchange places much to the master's ultimate well-being. 

There was a short pause; then Dr. Mercer bent his head toward them. 

"When you visited the institute a few nights ago, " said he, "you also, at my request, visited Professor Locke. "

Ashton-Kirk nodded. 

"For some time, " proceeded the other, "I have fancied that therewas something wrong with him. Not of a physical nature, as is, unfortunately the case with myself, but more in a mental way. Butsince that night I have been _sure_ that some sort of a derangementhad fixed itself upon him, or is in progress. He can scarcely becalled the same person. More than once I have been afraid, " and herethe speaker lowered his voice to a husky whisper, "that he isunbalanced. "

"That is very grave, " said Ashton-Kirk. 

"It has occurred to me, " went on the doctor, not without shrewdness, "that something happened that night which unsettled him. " The eyesseemingly floating in fat, turned themselves first to Pendleton, thento Ashton-Kirk. "I suppose, though, you know nothing of it?"

"We noticed that he seemed greatly agitated, " replied theinvestigator. "And we are alarmed to hear that he seems disturbed. "

"It is our rule that no one leave the institute grounds afternightfall, " said Dr. Mercer, in a troubled voice. "Last night I hadoccasion to send for him, but he was gone. This morning I stopped toreproach him for his absence; but apparently he has not returned. "

"You're mistaken there, " put in Burgess. "Look!"

He indicated the house as he spoke. The small figure of Locke was seenemerging at the front door; he paused for a moment, peering this wayand that in his near-sighted fashion, then hastily made his way towardthe work-shop. Evidently he had not seen them. 

With great labor and much catching of breath Dr. Mercer had turnedsufficiently to see these things. He seemed greatly astonished. 

"He was there all the time, " said he. "It is not possible that he didnot feel the vibrations of the buzzer, for he is very sensitive tosuch things. "

His indignation appeared to swell him to even greater proportionsthan before. 

"It is an affront, " he stated in a choked tone. "It is a deliberateaffront. He felt the buzzer, and he knew it was I. But he did notconsider me of enough importance to trouble himself about. "

Panting he sought to turn the small horse, but in a moment Ashton-Kirkwas out in the road and had the animal by the head. 

"I beg your pardon, " said the investigator, "but it would probably bemore beneficial to yourself and others, if you continued your driveand left Professor Locke to us. "

Amazed beyond ability to stir, the doctor sat and stared. But finallyhe found his tongue. 

"Bless my soul and body, " exclaimed he with a great wheezingexhalation. "I scarcely understand this, sir. "

"My dear doctor, " said Ashton-Kirk soothingly, "it is not at allnecessary that you do so. The fact is, to state it briefly, there isa trifling matter for adjustment between Professor Locke and thecommonwealth. "

"The commonwealth!" cried the doctor, and he shook like a great massof gelatine. 

"Nothing less. So, you see, it will be as well for you to do as Isuggest. " Then turning to Pendleton, Ashton-Kirk continued: "I thinkwe had better walk the remainder of the way; otherwise we might getLocke's attention before it is advisable. "

Pendleton jumped down, and without another word to Dr. Mercer, theyset off toward the slate-roofed house by the roadside. However, afterthey had gone about fifty yards, Pendleton turned and looked back. Hesaw the small horse jogging away, while behind it, helplessly fat andhopelessly befogged, sat Dr. Mercer, swaying dispiritedly from side toside. 

As Ashton-Kirk and Pendleton advanced upon the house, they bore inmind the possibility of Locke being on the watch; so they kept out ofsight as much as possible. 

"It's rather odd, I think, that he hangs on here, knowing that hispart in the murder of Hume must now be known, " said Pendleton. "Irather expected an attempt at escape. "

"That may come later, " said the investigator, grimly. "The finish ofa thing of this sort is always a matter for speculation. I have seendesperate criminals who surrendered like lambs; and I've seen theother sort give a platoon of police a good day's work in theirtaking. "

"Do you think it possible that Locke is one of this latter type?"

"There is no knowing. But I am inclined to believe that he is. "

Pendleton shook his head. It seemed impossible that this dapperlittle man with his peering, short-sighted eyes could be capable ofany determined effort to escape the police when once driven into acorner. However, Pendleton had ample reason to respect Ashton-Kirk'sjudgment; and so when the latter deemed it necessary to approach withcaution, he acted accordingly. 

They paused in front of the house. 

It was now past ten o'clock and the sun was shining brightly; a littlepatch of garden, filled with early flowering plants lay between thehouse and the wood; all about the work-shop were the tall trees whichthey had noticed upon their previous visit. 

"We had better not use the gate, " suggested the investigator. "Theremight be an attachment of some sort that will give him warning. "

So under cover of the trees they scaled the fence; then they carefullymade their way toward the shop. The windows and door of this wereclosed, nothing was stirring. Near the door was scattered some rubbishand loose paper. The place had an utterly deserted look. 

"Do you think he is there?" asked Pendleton. 

"I will know in a few moments, " replied the other. "Wait here. "

Pendleton expected Ashton-Kirk to continue his cautious approach. Butto his surprise the investigator with cool assurance stepped out frombehind a tree and advanced toward the outbuilding; when he reachedthe door he opened it and calmly stepped inside. 

The building was in one great room. It had some windows at the side, but the greater part of its illumination came from a huge skylight. Ashe closed the door behind him, Ashton-Kirk had a vague impression ofsomething huge, made of steel rods and with far-stretching wing-likeprojections at the sides. But he had no time to give the mechanismeven a glance; of greater interest was the small figure which sat at awide work-table upon which a litter of drawings was scattered. 

It was Locke; and as the slight jar of the closing door reached him helifted his eyes and saw the intruder. If Ashton-Kirk expected anydisplay of fear or other emotion, he was disappointed; upon each ofhis previous meetings with Locke the latter had shown greattrepidation; but now he simply nodded quietly and seemed not at allsurprised. 

But as Ashton-Kirk made a step toward him, he rose and raised his handin a gesture that was peremptory and unmistakable. The investigatorpaused; then Locke pointed to a chair directly before his bench, butsome half dozen yards away; and when Ashton-Kirk smilingly seatedhimself, Locke did likewise. 

Then in heavy characters he scrawled upon the back of one of theblue-prints. 

"I was expecting a visitor, and fancied that it might be you. "

This he held up so that the investigator might read it. Ashton-Kirknodded. Again the back of a plan came into service and this time theinvestigator read. 

"What has occurred is most unfortunate. I had no hand in it, though, of course, I do not expect anyone to believe me. "

Here Ashton-Kirk drew a note book from his pocket and was about towrite, but the other stopped him with a gesture. Then the man oncemore wrote; carefully, heavily, in order that the other might have nodifficulty in reading it from the distance. 

"Pardon me! But it is not necessary for you to go to any trouble. Moreover--I beg of you not to think me rude--your opinions in thematter have no interest for me. "

Ashton-Kirk acknowledged this with a grave nod. The pencil wasinstantly at work again. 

"As I have said, I expected a visitor; but I will now add that I didnot expect to be here to receive him. "

Ashton-Kirk looked swiftly into Locke's face as he read this; theexpression was unmistakable, and the investigator leaped to his feet. But the mute uttered a strange parrot-like cry--evidently the samethat Edyth heard that night in Christie Place--and Ashton-Kirk saw hishand go swiftly to a button at one side of the work-bench. Instantlythe investigator paused; once more a gesture bade him be seated. 

Slowly he obeyed; and once more Locke began to trace bold charactersupon the stiff paper. This message read:

"You are a wise man. I had arranged everything before you came in, andhad sat down to make an end of it. This button at my hand once startedan electric apparatus; but now it is connected with a quantity of anexplosive--my own invention, and a terrible one. Believe me, one touchand everything in this building is in fragments. "

Ashton-Kirk, when he had finished reading, nodded quietly. Again themute began to write. 

"I have no ill will toward you, " the words ran, "you have two minutesto leave here, and get safely away. "

When he saw that this had been read, Locke threw down the paper andtook out his watch. Then he pointed toward the door and sat waiting. 

It was strange to see the little man sitting there calmly, with onlythe pressure of a finger between him and eternity. But Ashton-Kirkknew stern resolution too well to mistake the look on the mute'sface. There was nothing to do but to obey. He waved his hand in afarewell. Locke returned the gesture. Then Ashton-Kirk walked to thedoor, opened it and stepped out. 

Pendleton, patiently watching among the trees, saw him emerge and atonce moved toward him; to his amazement the investigator took him bythe arm and broke into a run. 

"What the deuce is the matter now?" asked Pendleton, after they hadpassed the gate and were racing down the road. 

"You'll know in a few moments, " returned Ashton-Kirk grimly. 

He permitted no pause until they reached the car, the engine of whichhad not been stopped. 

"Quick, for your lives!" he ordered, as he leaped in. 

Pendleton and Burgess followed instantly. The car had scarcely begunits plunge forward when a horrible rending shock staggered them. Andas they sped away the debris of the deaf-mute's work-shop was fallingall about them. 

The evening papers were glaring with the news from Cordova by thetime the two friends were once more alone in Ashton-Kirk's library. Pendleton seemed to be pondering. 

"I say, " said he, at last, "was it Morris or Spatola who remained atHume's the night of the murder?"

"I spoke to Spatola about that, " answered Ashton-Kirk. "He said itwas Morris who left first and whom Hume pursued by jeers through theopen window. Morris had, according to his resolve, called at the placeto demand the plans; but Hume was mad with liquor and was even worsein his manner than usual. Unable to bear it, Morris had rushed out. Spatola later made his way out by way of the scuttle and across theroof, as he frequently did. 

"The thing which Spatola had carried under his coat that night was adiploma which he had received from a musical conservatory in Rome. Itwas in a frame and so made considerable bulk. Hume had denied thatafternoon that Spatola had ever studied in this particularconservatory; frantic with rage, but knowing that he was a fool fordoing it, the Italian had brought his diploma as proof. 

"Morris, under the name of Crawford, occupied a room on the floorbelow Spatola; and as soon as the musician entered through thescuttle, he descended the stairs and went immediately to his friend'sroom to console and encourage him. 

"Some time passed, and while they were still talking they heard a stepupon the stairs leading to the attic. As no one lived there buthimself, Spatola looked and in the semi-darkness saw two mendescending. He called and asked who they were, and Sagon's voicereplied that it was he and a friend. They had gone up to have a talkand smoke a cigar with him; but seeing that he was not in, they hadcome down at once. And now, as he was apparently engaged, they wouldnot trouble him, and with that they disappeared within Sagon's room. "

"Then, " said Pendleton, "they had gone up through the attic, acrossthe roofs, committed the deed, and returned while Spatola was withMorris?"

"It would seem so. "

"But suppose that on reaching the attic, upon their return they hadfound Spatola there?"

"Sagon had calculated it all very nicely. One night a week Spatolawent to play with two compatriots at their rooms; with piano, harp andviolin, they gave vent to the harmony that was in them. That was thenight for the trio, and Sagon knew it. But In his rage and his desireto prove his standing to Hume, Spatola had forgotten it. When hedescended to Morris's rooms, the two criminals thought he had gone tomake his usual visit to his friends. Sagon says he almost lost hisnerve when the Italian confronted them on the stairs. "

"But here's a thing I've not been able to puzzle out. According toyour notion--and you may have proved it since, for all I know--Lockewas not in the showroom during or after the murder. And yet it shouldhave been he who dropped the little particle from the railroad ticketupon the desk. "

"It would seem that way, " admitted Ashton-Kirk, "but the fact is thatSagon visited Locke at the Institute and rode to the city with himthat afternoon. The particle may be accounted for in that way. "

"Yes, " mused the other, "that's so. But, one thing more. I should haveasked this of Morris himself if he had not been in such a confoundedlymiserable way. Why did he take to hiding immediately after themurder?"

"He spent the night in his lodgings at Christie Place; next day thepapers told him that he was suspected. He knew that if he appearedhe'd be arrested; and as he desired to recover the plans before themurderers escaped with them, he felt that this would be fatal to hischances. Of course, I am not sure of this; but I think it more thanlikely. "

"Speaking of taking chances on the plans, " said Pendleton, "you werewilling enough to take pretty long ones on them last night. Why, Sagonactually had them in his hands. "

Ashton-Kirk drew a flat packet from his pocket. Opening it he showedthat it contained nothing but blank paper. 

"This is what Sagon found behind the portrait, " said he, with asmile. "The real papers I was very careful to remove two days ago. Onemoment--that's the telephone. "

Pendleton sat rolling a cigarette and wondering, while Ashton-Kirktook down the receiver. 

"Well?" said he. Then in a moment his expression changed. "Oh, is ityou? Well, how are you after your exciting experience?"

Here Pendleton dropped the completed cigarette and listened. 

"You may consider yourself very fortunate to escape with a slightheadache, " said Ashton-Kirk. Then there was a pause, and he said, apparently in answer to a question: "Oh, yes, he's with me now. Willyou speak with him?"

Pendleton arose and took a step toward the stand. But he halted as ifshot when his friend continued in the transmitter:

"No?" Pause. "Oh, very well. Good-by. "

Ashton-Kirk hung up the receiver and turned to his friend. 

"So, " said Pendleton, in a queer sort of voice, "she doesn't wish tospeak to me. "

"Not over the wire--no. But she wants you to come to her--at once. Shedesires to hear all about what she calls the wonderful way we havehandled this case, and she wants to hear it--from you. " Ashton-Kirklooked at his watch. "It is now 10:45. You can get there by eleven ifyou rush. "

"Do you call doing that little distance in fifteen minutes rushing?"The young man's face was radiant and he was making for the door as hespoke. "If I don't do it in half that time, I'm a duffer. "

Then the door slapped behind him, and Ashton-Kirk heard him boundingdown the stairs. 

 * * * * *

Another story in this series is "ASHTON-KIRK AND THE SCARLET SCAPULAR"(in press)