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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/78010-0.txt b/78010-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ee795a3 --- /dev/null +++ b/78010-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9452 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78010 *** + + + + + The Unknown Seven + + _A Detective Story_ + + BY + HARRY COVERDALE + + [Illustration] + + + CHELSEA HOUSE + 79 Seventh Avenue New York City + + + + + Copyright, 1923 + By CHELSEA HOUSE + + The Unknown Seven + + + (Printed in the United States of America) + + All rights reserved, including that of translation into foreign + languages, including the Scandinavian. + + + + + CONTENTS + + + CHAPTER PAGE + + I. +The Woman in the Limousine+ 9 + + II. +Temptation+ 20 + + III. +The Temptress Speaks+ 36 + + IV. +“Yellow”+ 46 + + V. +Disguised+ 58 + + VI. +Doctor Latham+ 73 + + VII. +Cole Receives a Warning+ 85 + + VIII. +The Unknown Seven+ 94 + + IX. +The Red Light+ 106 + + X. +Pursuit+ 117 + + XI. +Behind the Locked Door+ 125 + + XII. +In Four Rounds+ 132 + + XIII. +The Morning’s Mail+ 141 + + XIV. +Cole’s Ruse+ 153 + + XV. +The Traitor Unmasked+ 171 + + XVI. +Gold+ 186 + + XVII. +In Room 2512+ 201 + + XVIII. +The Light in the Window+ 217 + + XIX. +A Warning+ 228 + + XX. +The Veneer of Intelligence+ 239 + + XXI. +The Face at the Window+ 256 + + XXII. +A Duel of Wits+ 265 + + XXIII. +The Seventh Ingredient+ 271 + + XXIV. +Cornered+ 280 + + XXV. +Face to Face+ 288 + + XXVI. +A Cry+ 299 + + XXVII. +The Way Out+ 309 + + XXVIII. +The Enemy Strikes+ 314 + + + + + THE UNKNOWN SEVEN + + CHAPTER I + + THE WOMAN IN THE LIMOUSINE + + +Standing in the dark doorway of a delicatessen shop, Kingdon Cole +gazed, through the fog and drizzle of the October night, at a +second-story window across the street. The brim of a slouch hat +shaded his eyes and most of his face. His lean figure was draped in a +mackintosh that reached almost to his feet. The upward slant of the +cigar, clamped between his teeth, hinted at total absorption in what he +saw. + +The building that claimed his attention was an ordinary three-story +structure of murky brick. Flanked by a warehouse on one side and a +secondhand clothing store on the other, it presented a sullen and +gloomy aspect to the watcher across the street. Yet there was something +in the very drabness of the house and the chill atmosphere which hung +over it that might have appealed to the imagination of a man like +Kingdon Cole. + +A man’s head and shoulders were dimly silhouetted against the lighted +window shade at which he was looking so fixedly. For half an hour or +longer the figure had not stirred. The rigid poise of the head and the +stiff set of the shoulders suggested that the man at the window was +engaged in a task that occupied his whole mind. + +Cole struck a match and, holding it in his cupped hands, lighted his +dead cigar. The flickering light shone for an instant on fingers that +were long, slim, and finely tapering, the fingers of a man of great +mental energy and a compelling personality. + +“Wonder what the learned Professor Carmody finds so interesting,” he +mumbled. “Some scientific treatise, very likely, or perhaps it is——” + +He lowered his gaze, as he vaguely sensed that a pair of eyes was +trying to pierce the gloom in which he stood. What with the wet night +and the lateness of the hour that dreary section of Bleecker Street +was all but deserted. Now and then a crosstown car jogged along at a +lumbering pace; occasionally a taxicab passed on its way. + +Cole looked up and down the block. The impression was more distinct +now. Some one was watching him, just as he was watching the solitary +figure in the window. His senses, sharpened by long training, told him +he was under observation even before he could trace the impression to +its source. Now he saw a limousine drawn up at the corner, less than +twenty paces from where he stood. Its sides of burnt sienna gleamed +in the blurred lights. It seemed to lend a touch of affluence to the +squalor and dreariness of the scene. How long the car had been there +he did not know, for the window across the street had claimed all his +attention. + +The car began to move, crawling, snaillike and silent toward the point +where Cole stood. It stopped opposite the doorway that sheltered him. +He fancied that he saw the flicker of a face behind the curtains. Then +the door opened a few inches, and he caught a glimpse of a beckoning +hand. + +His eyes narrowed under their puckering brows. The monotony of his +vigil was being broken in a strange way, and the slow twisting of his +lips signified that the interruption was not altogether displeasing. +Once more he glanced up at the window across the street, noticing that +the shadowy figure had not stirred. Then he crossed the sidewalk, and +instantly the door of the limousine was flung wide. + +“Won’t you step in, Mr. Cole?” asked a voice. + +Though his life had inured him to surprises, Cole started a little. It +was odd that the occupant of the car should address him by name. The +interior was dark, but in the shadows he saw the figure of a woman. + +“You are very patient, Mr. Cole,” the voice continued. “You are wasting +your time, however. It isn’t likely that Professor Carmody will go out +to-night, so you might as well jump in.” + +A sharp hunching of Cole’s shoulders registered surprise number two. It +was all very mystifying. Not only did the occupant of the car know his +name, but she seemed familiar with his business as well. He liked her +voice, a deep soprano with a faintly playful undertone. For a moment he +studied the long, slender lines of her figure, faintly discernible in +the dusk and melting, here and there, into a background of saffron-hued +cushions. + +“You hesitate? I happen to know that Professor Carmody is in for the +night and that your vigilance is useless.” + +Cole looked at her intently. The mist, the drizzle, and the blurred +sheen from the street lamps seemed to lend a touch of unreality to +what he saw and heard. + +“What do you know about Professor Carmody,” he demanded. + +“A great deal more than you do. It’s quite possible that I am in a +position to give you some valuable information. At any rate my car is +more comfortable than a dark doorway.” + +She leaned forward slightly, and there was a trace of mockery on her +faintly parted lips. “Not afraid, are you, Mr. Cole?” + +He gave a low laugh at the implied dare. With a shrug he stepped inside +the car and sat down beside her. She picked up the speaking tube and, +turning her head away from Cole, said something which he could not +hear. In an instant the car was in motion. + +“You seem to know a great deal,” he observed, trying to obtain a +glimpse of her face under the billowing brim that shaded it. + +“And you are anxious to learn how much more I know. Isn’t it so, Mr. +Cole? It was neither vulgar curiosity nor adventurousness that prompted +you to accept my invitation to ride with me. You accepted only because +you hoped to learn something. Having heard me speak your name and +mention Professor Carmody you naturally thought it might be profitable +to cultivate my acquaintance.” + +“Perhaps so,” said Cole dryly. “What do you know about me aside from my +name and my interest in the estimable professor?” + +“A great deal,” was the surprisingly prompt reply. “You are a student +of criminology, a follower in the footsteps of Lombroso, Pinel, and +Prichard, though you by no means accept their theories. You have +written two books on crime and criminals. They are too scientific for +the general reader, I have been told, but experts on the subject regard +them as authoritative. Perhaps some day I shall try to read them.” + +“I fear you won’t find them very interesting,” replied Cole. “What +else?” + +“You live in a small apartment in Gramercy Park, which also serves as +your office. Two years ago you did a very brilliant piece of work on +the Wilmerding murder case, though you magnanimously, or for reasons of +your own, let the police claim the credit for the results. You follow +criminal investigations largely as a scientific pursuit. If you cared +to devote all your time to it you could make a great success, but you +accept only such cases as happen to interest you personally. As a +result you lead a quiet and somewhat precarious existence, deriving +your sole pleasure from your work and such inexpensive amusements as +books, music, and, on rare occasions, the theater.” + +“You seem to have taken considerable pains looking me up,” he remarked. + +“Oh, I haven’t told you all I know yet. I have learned a number of +things about your private life and personal habits, but we needn’t go +into those things now.” + +“Are you equally well informed in regard to Professor Carmody?” + +“Not quite. The professor is a riddle. To all outward appearances he is +interested in nothing but his experiments and his musty old books. He +seems to be living in that kind of neighborhood by preference, because +he isn’t so apt to be bothered by meddling neighbors. His house is said +to contain one of the best-equipped laboratories of its kind in the +world. That’s only a rumor, of course. The professor doesn’t encourage +visitors. To the few people who have talked with him he is what the +novelists call a man of mystery. He comes and goes without speaking +to any one, and his life is a closed book. As far as I know, only one +person has been inside his house in a year, and that person never came +out.” + +“Oh, you know that!” + +“Yes, I am one of the very few who are aware of the fact. Let me see, +it’s about three weeks since Malcolm Reeves disappeared. His relatives, +your clients, in other words, have reason to believe that he visited +Professor Carmody on the night of his disappearance. No wonder the +case fascinates you, Mr. Cole. Disappearances are always interesting, +but especially so when a mysterious person like Professor Carmody is +involved.” + +Cole regarded her in frank amazement, but her head was now slightly +bowed, and all he could see of her face was the curve of the chin. + +“The relatives did well to put the case in your hands,” she went on. +“You are both capable and discreet and, as I presume you know, there +were excellent reasons for not reporting Reeves’ disappearance to the +police. Are you making satisfactory progress?” + +“My clients seem satisfied.” + +“You have not yet paid the professor a visit?” + +“What would be the use?” + +“You are right, of course. It would only put him on his guard. You +prefer not to let him know that he is under suspicion.” She laughed +gently, as if amused at something. “Besides, it is doubtful whether a +search of Carmody’s house would reveal any clews to Reeves’ fate. The +professor is a chemist, and I understand there are certain chemical +processes by which bodies can be made to disappear completely, leaving +no trace.” + +“Then you think Reeves has been murdered?” + +“Don’t you?” she asked quickly. + +Cole smiled. Instead of answering the question he asked another. “How +can you be so sure that Carmody will not leave his house to-night?” + +“Because he has the best of reasons for staying in.” + +“What are they?” + +“One is that his engagement for to-night was canceled by telephone at +four o’clock this afternoon.” + +Cole gave her a puzzled stare. “How do you know that?” + +She laughed a little. “There are ways of finding out,” she said +mysteriously. “Tapped wires, for instance. But the professor’s +principal reason for staying in to-night is that he is well aware that +you are watching him. You see, Mr. Cole, he has more shrewdness than +you have been giving him credit for. And the fact that he is staying in +on your account shows that he has great respect for your ability.” + +She had raised her head a trifle, and Cole gave her a long, bewildered +glance. He half expected to see a smile on her lips, but her face was +grave. + +“Are you one of Reeves’ relatives?” he asked abruptly. + +“Oh, no!” + +“Then how——” + +“I have certain sources of information. Sources so vast that you would +be staggered if I were to tell you of them. Please don’t look at me +like that. I am not insane, neither am I subject to hallucinations. The +fact that I happen to know more about the Carmody case than you do is +no reflection on your ability as an investigator. It merely shows that +your equipment is inadequate. Care to hear more?” + +“What else do you know?” + +“I know that the case you are working on is only one minor angle of a +vast mystery. The disappearance of Malcolm Reeves is nothing but an +incident. Reeves himself was only an insignificant puppet in one of +the greatest games ever played. All you have seen so far is one of the +minor threads in the woof. I am always mixing my metaphors, but I know +you won’t mind. Mr. Cole, this affair has ramifications that may some +day rock the whole continent.” + +“I feel considerably shaken up already,” admitted Cole. “You realize, +of course, that you are using strong words?” + +“No stronger than the situation demands.” + +“If it is as bad as all that why doesn’t somebody put a stop to it?” + +“Because——” She checked herself and regarded him intently. “Well, +because the man who is big enough for the task has not yet been found.” + +Again Cole cast a glance at the window. The car had made several +turns in the last few minutes. He caught only a blurred view of his +surroundings, but he thought they were traversing one of the cavernlike +streets near the southern tip of Manhattan Island. + +“Have you heard enough?” she asked. + +“Just enough to give me an appetite for more.” + +“In that case you must trust me implicitly and obey me without +questions. I am taking desperate chances in confiding in you, Mr. Cole, +and certain precautions are absolutely necessary. Will you promise me +on your honor that you will not try to ascertain the location of the +place I shall take you to?” + +Cole considered. There was a flavor of mystery about the adventure that +appealed to him, but the prospect of learning something more about the +Carmody case was an even greater temptation. From what little the woman +had so far told him he surmised that she must have unusual sources of +information. Much that she had said coincided with what he already +knew, so he had no cause to doubt her truthfulness. + +“You have my promise,” he told her. + +The car made another turn, swung down a dark block, then veered again +to the south. Cole caught a hazy glimpse of dark, towering skyscrapers. + +The woman looked at him fixedly, as if in doubt. “I believe you are a +man of your word, Mr. Cole, but promises are sometimes broken in spite +of the best intentions. Please don’t be offended.” + +She produced a scarf and with a deft touch covered his eyes, securing +the bandage with a firm knot at the back. Cole chuckled amusedly. He +might be walking into a trap, but it would not be the first time, and +he had great confidence in his ability to take care of himself in any +situation that might come up. + +After continuing its zigzagging course a few minutes longer the car +stopped. His mysterious conductress touched his arm as they stepped +out. She guided him across the sidewalk and up a few stone steps, and +then they traversed what appeared to be a long corridor. Finally Cole +found himself in a narrow inclosure which he guessed to be an elevator. + +“We are in one of the tallest office buildings in New York,” the woman +whispered in his ear, “but you’re not likely to guess its name.” + +The door clanked shut, and the cage shot swiftly upward. Cole felt +a rush of wind in his ears. He maintained a languid composure, but +inwardly he marveled. A modern skyscraper was the last place he would +have expected the woman to take him to. He tried to estimate the number +of floors they were passing. Five, ten, fifteen, twenty—— + +Still the cage darted upward, and then it stopped so suddenly that +he caught his breath sharply. They stepped out, and the girl removed +the scarf from his eyes. He gazed around him bewilderedly. All about +him, with the exception of a single elevator shaft was a vast expanse +of blank wall. There was no sign of doors or windows, and the only +illumination was a small electric bulb in the ceiling. + +“We came up in a private elevator,” the woman explained. “This is the +top floor. To the public at large and to most of the tenants of the +building it practically does not exist. This way, Mr. Cole.” + +She stepped to one of the corners of the triangular space, of which the +elevator shaft formed the center, and Cole followed. In the dim light +he could not see exactly what happened, but the woman’s hand went out +and then a narrow portion of the wall slid back. They stepped through +an aperture, and instantly the opening closed behind them. They were in +a long corridor with doors on each side. + +“Surprised?” she asked, starting to lead him down the hall. + +“Rather. Never expected to find such mysterious contrivances in a +modern office building.” + +Her only reply was a low laugh. The floor of the corridor was +luxuriously carpeted; the doors on either side had a solid appearance. +Cole’s amazement grew. He wondered what was beyond the massive doors +and what was the nature of this establishment that was hidden behind +blank walls. He had little time for speculation, for his companion +opened a door and bade him enter. + +“Excuse me, Mr. Cole,” she murmured when she had switched on the light. +“I shall be back directly.” + +The door closed, and she was gone. Alone, Cole looked about him, and +his eyes opened wide in astonishment. + + + + + CHAPTER II + + TEMPTATION + + +For a moment Cole forgot that he was in a building devoted to the +pursuits of commerce. The room in which he stood, bordered by walls of +paneled walnut, was worthy of a Fifth Avenue mansion. It struck him as +a bit grotesque. From an elevator he had stepped, through a blank wall, +into a magnificence that fairly dazzled him. It was like an “Arabian +Nights” adventure. As he looked about him he saw quiet elegance +everywhere, without a taint of showiness. For some time he stood lost +in admiration, then he noticed that the room had no windows. A moment +later he discovered that the door was locked on the outside. Despite +the splendor that surrounded him he was virtually a prisoner. + +He sat down and smoked a cigarette, waiting for his strange conductress +to return. Evidently the walls were solidly built, for no sounds +reached him. The air was fresh and pure despite the absence of windows, +hinting that there was a concealed ventilator somewhere in the room. + +The armchair was comfortable, and he stretched out his lean figure, +slightly short of six feet. The man suggested mental force rather +than bodily strength, but a great surprise awaited any antagonist who +underestimated Cole’s physical prowess. He was far stronger than the +average man, and his endurance was phenomenal. His gray eyes, with a +faint humorous twinkle in their depths, were fixed on the door. His +dark face, slightly lined about the mouth and the outer corner of the +eyes, bore a look of mild expectancy. In moments of repose he looked as +though he had not a care in the world. His friends often wondered how +he managed to maintain the freshness and sparkle suggestive of a recent +needle shower. Perhaps it was because he was thoroughly in love with +his work and had learned to shake off the minor frets and irritations +of life. + +In the midst of his musings the door opened, and he stared rather +rudely at the vision that entered. It was the woman, and she had +undergone an amazing transformation since he last saw her. He wondered +whether the shimmering gown she wore had been designed by Poiret +himself. Its delicate rose color afforded a charming contrast to her +complexion, a sort of luminous white that somehow escaped being pale. +Standing there, with a faint smile on her lips, her face fringed by an +aureole of fine-spun gold, she was easily the most bewitching woman +Cole had ever seen. + +He rose, bowed, and gazed appreciatively at the simple, but strikingly +effective, ornament she wore at her throat. + +“Sorry to have kept you waiting,” she murmured. “Sit down, please, and +smoke as much as you like. I want to talk with you.” + +Cole sat down. He wondered if she had arrayed herself like this for the +sole purpose of having a talk with him. + +“You promised to tell me something more about the Carmody case,” he +reminded her. “I suppose you brought me to this charming place so +that we might have a quiet talk without danger of interruption or +eavesdropping.” + +She sat down a short distance from him. By degrees the smile faded from +her lips. A curiously solemn expression crept into her face. “Haven’t I +told you enough, Mr. Cole?” + +“What little you told me was only a provocation. It gave me a taste for +more. By the way, you have the advantage over me. Won’t you tell me +your name?” + +“You may call me Miss Brown.” + +“The name doesn’t fit you,” he objected. + +“Names never do fit. That’s one of the ironies of existence. For the +present, until we know each other better, it will have to be Miss +Brown. I had to tell you a little about the Carmody case in order to +get your attention. I hope I convinced you that it is quite useless +for you to continue at work on a case that is so enormous in scope and +presents such insuperable difficulties, Mr. Cole.” A pleading note had +come into her voice. “Can anything persuade you to drop the Carmody +case?” + +She bent forward a little. With hands clasped across her knee, she +studied him intently, and Cole looked into the deepest, bluest eyes he +had ever seen. + +“Drop the Carmody case!” he exclaimed. + +“You must drop it, Mr. Cole! If you knew more about it, what terrible +things you are going up against, you would willingly drop it without +further argument. You would recognize your utter helplessness in the +matter, not to mention a number of other things.” + +Cole was momentarily speechless. He found himself strangely impressed +by her big, sorcerous eyes, full of mute pleading and entreaty. + +“I don’t understand. You don’t realize what you are saying. Why should +I drop the case?” + +“Because of the things I have told you.” + +Cole laughed. “They are only an added incentive for me to go on with +it.” + +She drew a long breath. “That’s your man’s way of looking at things. +The greater the dangers and difficulties the more determined you are +to forge ahead. You don’t stop to consider the price, or estimate the +cost. The wreckage you scatter about you means nothing to you. All you +think of is the gratification of your boundless ambition. Mr. Cole, +won’t you forgo your foolish pride and do what I ask?” + +Her eyes held him despite his will. There was a look of terror in +their depths that exerted a subtle appeal upon him. He got to his feet +and tried to shake off the fascination of her beauty and her magnetic +personality. + +“Impossible,” he declared. “If you brought me here in the hope of +inducing me to drop the Carmody case, your time and effort are wasted.” + +“Please, Mr. Cole! Forget that you ever heard of this terrible case. +Tell your clients in the morning that you will have nothing further to +do with it.” + +“That wouldn’t alter matters. They would promptly accept my +resignation and engage somebody else.” + +“There is only one Kingdon Cole.” + +“That’s a very neat compliment, but it won’t bear analysis. I haven’t +accomplished anything very wonderful, and another man could finish what +I have begun.” + +She was silent for a time, her big, luminous eyes regarding him +imploringly. “If you won’t drop the case for your own sake, because of +the terrible dangers involved, then I beg you to do so for my sake.” + +“For your sake? Really, Miss—er—Brown, I don’t understand. What is your +interest in the Carmody case?” + +She stepped up and clutched his hand. The touch of her fingers sent +a thrill through him. Her eyes were moist, and the curve beneath her +throat rose and fell with accelerated rhythm. “Yes, for my sake. I +can’t explain, except to say that awful things will happen to me if you +go on. Death would be as nothing in comparison. Doesn’t a woman’s soul +mean anything to you, Mr. Cole?” + +Cole looked down into her eyes, while her fingers spasmodically +clutched his hand. Far into their blue depths he gazed, and suddenly +his face underwent a change. His lips curled a trifle, and a hard glint +came into his eyes. Somewhat roughly he released his hand. + +“Very touching,” he dryly remarked, “but I don’t see the connection +between the Carmody case and a woman’s soul.” + +She drew back with a little sob of bafflement. + +“If you meant your own soul, Miss Brown, you mentioned something that +doesn’t exist,” he went on sarcastically. “Trickery and pretense are +poor substitutes for soul.” + +“What do you mean?” + +He shrugged disgustedly. “Your acting is superb, but it don’t bear +close inspection. You were splendid at a little distance. Despite the +fact that I am the only Kingdon Cole, as you so charmingly phrased it, +I am rather susceptible to the tears of a beautiful woman. With your +sobs and your loveliness you could have melted a stone, if such a feat +were possible. As soon as I got a close view of you, however, I knew +you were only shamming. Your eyes gave you away when you sprung that +choice line about a woman’s soul. Perhaps you realized you were laying +the pathos on too thick. Anyway the illusion is shattered, and all that +remains is the gorgeous gown you are wearing. It is really stunning.” + +“Thank you,” she said coldly, dropping the rôle she had been playing, +as easily as she would a wrap. “No doubt I should have known better +than to try such methods on you.” + +“Yes, you should,” said Cole. “For, despite the little slip you made, +I believe that you are really a very clever woman. Now that we are off +the subject of women’s souls won’t you tell me your real reason for +wishing to throw up the Carmody case?” + +She shook her head, but he thought he detected a gleam of unwilling +admiration in her eyes. Motioning him to follow, she stepped to the +door and opened it, then preceded him down the hall. Cole guessed that +his little adventure was over, and he felt a twinge of disappointment +at the thought that, in all probability, he would never learn the +meaning of her puzzling behavior. No doubt she would try to blindfold +him again before conducting him away from the place, and he was +prepared to raise strenuous objections. + +But it appeared Miss Brown was not yet ready to let him go. She stopped +before one of the massive doors that had already excited his curiosity, +and knocked twice. It opened quickly and noiselessly. In a moment, +before he realized what he was doing, Cole was inside, and the door +closed at his back. + +The room was so dimly lighted that at first he could distinguish +nothing but bare, gloomy walls. Miss Brown, who had followed him into +the room, hastened forward and seemed to melt away in the dusk, leaving +him to wonder what new turn his adventure was taking. Gradually, as his +eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, he was able to see objects with some +degree of clearness. He was in a long, narrow room, and what he saw +was in keeping with the other strange things that he had witnessed and +experienced in this surprising establishment. + +A number of shadowy figures were seated around a circular table in +the center of the room. He counted seven of them, and at first he had +a ludicrous impression that there were only blank spaces where their +faces should have been. Then, as his pupils continued to respond to the +strain imposed by the dim light, he saw that each man wore a mask. +It was only a strip of cloth, with tiny slits over the eyes, but in +the dusk it was the only covering that was needed to make recognition +impossible. + +Again Cole was struck with a sense of unreality. The men, sitting +stiffly erect in their chairs, caused him to wonder whether he was in +the midst of some ghostly séance. He felt their eyes searching him +through the vents in the masks. The gloom and the silence gave an added +illusory touch to the scene. Cole had to shake himself before he could +realize that he was on the top floor of a modern skyscraper. + +Miss Brown stepped behind one of the chairs and held a brief whispered +conversation with its occupant. The latter nodded, and the girl +slipped away toward the door. A moment later it closed behind her, and +the man, with whom she had been talking, indicated that Cole was to +step forward. With a shrug he complied, and the masked faces stirred +slightly as he approached. For a full minute nothing was said, and +again he felt the sharp and steady scrutiny of seven pairs of eyes. +Finally the man who had beckoned him spoke. “Mr. Cole, how much will +you take to drop the Carmody case?” + +Cole could not help but laugh. The words, spoken with a directness +and a matter-of-factness that left nothing to the imagination, had +shattered the illusion completely. In an instant the spell of unreality +was broken. He knew he was dealing with practical men who were in the +habit of reducing everything to terms of dollars and cents. A blunt +reply came to his lips, but his desire to learn more of these strange +men caused him to hold it back. + +“Suppose we put all the cards on the table,” he suggested. “I don’t +like to talk business in the dark. Who are you, and what is your +objection to my connection with the Carmody case?” + +“We are not here to answer questions,” declared the one who seemed to +be acting as spokesman for the others. “All I care to say is that, +because of a peculiar combination of circumstances, it is to our +advantage to pay you liberally for withdrawing from the case. What’s +your price, Mr. Cole?” + +Under ordinary circumstances, Cole would have been indignant at this +cool assumption that every man has his price, but now his dominant +emotion was curiosity. He could not understand why they seemed so +intent upon persuading him to sever his connection with the affair, but +what Miss Brown had said about the vast ramifications of the Carmody +case suggested that they had ample reasons for what they were doing. + +“Let me get this straight,” he said evenly. “You are willing to pay me +my price for withdrawing from the Carmody case. Are there any strings +to the proposition?” + +The other chuckled dryly. “I wouldn’t call them strings, exactly. They +are only gossamer threads. In addition to retiring from the case you +are to give us a full and veracious report of what you have discovered +to date in connection with the disappearance of Malcolm Reeves.” + +“I see,” said Cole. “Anything else?” + +“Just one thing more. In addition to withdrawing from your present +connection with the case and turning the information you possess over +to us, you are to come over to our side and put your ability at our +disposal. We are ready to pay you handsomely for your services, either +on a contingent basis, or in the form of a weekly salary.” + +“Very generous,” declared Cole, with a faint trace of sarcasm. “Your +proposition is that, for a consideration, I am to betray my present +clients and——” + +“Betray is a harsh word,” objected the spokesman for the group. + +“Truthful terms are usually harsh,” Cole remarked. “Let’s not quibble +over words. In addition to the amount, which you are willing to pay me +for betraying my clients, you offer to reward me liberally for certain +services that you require. May I ask what they are?” + +“You will learn soon enough if you accept our proposition. Let me state +that we have unlimited funds at our disposal and stand ready to pay +you well. It would be no exaggeration to say that in a short time you +should be a rich man if you accept our offer. In view of our liberality +don’t you think it behooves you to be less squeamish and ask fewer +questions?” + +“I suppose it is in deucedly bad taste for me to argue with a man who +offers me a fortune on a silver platter,” Cole admitted. “Just the same +I can’t help wondering why you are offering such a glittering bribe to +one who is practically unknown in his profession.” + +The man gave an amused chuckle. “Don’t worry about that, Mr. Cole. +We are not in the habit of buying pigs in a poke. You have been under +observation for some time.” + +“So I gathered from what the bewitching Miss—Brown told me.” + +“We have learned that you have a great deal of ability. You are +fearless and persevering. You have qualities that the average +professional detective sadly lacks, such as tact, polish, and a +magnetic personality. In short, you are precisely the kind of man +we need. We have reason to believe that you have discovered certain +interesting facts in connection with Malcolm Reeves’ disappearance, +facts which would naturally become our property if you came over to our +side.” + +Cole marveled at the extent of the man’s knowledge. It was true that he +had picked up several stray facts which, when considered in conjunction +with the known circumstances of Reeves’ disappearance, made a fairly +interesting showing. His glance wandered over the circle of veiled +faces. Each of the seven men was watching him intently through the +slits in his mask. + +“We are waiting for your decision, Mr. Cole,” remarked the spokesman +after a pause. “If our proposition appeals to you, name your price.” + +Cole pretended to hesitate. He hoped to learn a little more before he +closed the interview. He wondered how far these men would go in their +efforts to induce him to betray his clients and transfer his allegiance +to themselves. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” he asked. “Do you +realize that a man who has been bought once will probably sell himself +again?” + +Though he could not see, he fancied the spokesman’s eyes were twinkling +behind the mask. + +“We have considered everything, Mr. Cole. You wouldn’t sell yourself +except to a higher bidder, and it isn’t likely any one will outbid us. +If such a situation should arise, however, we would know how to handle +it. What is your price?” + +“Suppose you name the price you are willing to pay?” + +There was a craning of necks, and nods and subdued whispers passed +around the circle. Evidently the seven construed his words as meaning +that he was yielding. The spokesman unlocked a drawer in front of him +and placed a small package on the table. + +“Twenty-five thousand dollars,” he remarked impressively. “If you are +in doubt as to the amount, or if you suspect that I am handing you +stage money, you will be permitted to examine it in the light.” + +He handed the package to Cole. “Remember that this is only your +retaining fee, so to speak. There will be lots more coming to you if +you decide to throw in your lot with us.” + +Cole felt the crisp fiber of the bills. He did not doubt that the money +was genuine or that the package contained the exact amount mentioned +by the spokesman. Whatever else these men might do, he did not think +they would stoop to petty cheating. An odd sensation surged through him +as he weighed the currency in the palm of his hand. It was more money +than had ever before come within his reach. Of a sudden he remembered +some of the things he had been compelled to deny himself because of +his slender and uncertain income. Until this moment, when he held the +wherewithal in his hand, it had not occurred to him that he was missing +any of the good things in life. He had accepted his privations, as a +matter of course, with a smile or a shrug, according to his mood of the +moment. + +For a few seconds longer he gave himself over to thrill of possession, +and then he tossed the bundle of currency down on the table. “It isn’t +enough,” he declared. + +A chorus of murmurs went around the circular table. The veiled faces +strained forward a little. Once again Cole fancied the spokesman’s eyes +were twinkling through the orifices in the mask. + +“Splendid, Mr. Cole,” said the man approvingly. “I didn’t think +twenty-five thousand would satisfy you, but I wanted to make sure. As a +matter of fact, if you had accepted such a paltry amount, we would have +broken off the negotiations instantly. We don’t want a man who holds +himself cheap. Here”—again he opened the drawer in front of him—“is +another twenty-five thousand. That makes fifty. Quite a neat sum for a +man whose income last year was only a trifle over four thousand.” + +“How did you know that?” + +“Income-tax reports,” said the man. + +Cole took one bundle of currency in each hand. He was no longer +marveling at the surprising sources of information that seemed to be +open to these men. For the moment all his senses were centered on the +wealth that lay in his palms. A flash of self-revelation came to him, +and he was surprised and frightened by it. He had never known that mere +money could give him such a delectable sensation. In the past, as a +passive onlooker, he had smiled tolerantly at other men’s scramble for +wealth. With philosophic eyes he had watched the money-mad procession +sweep by him. Now he found that the sheer touch of the currency sent a +contagion through his veins, awakening strange emotions within him. + +The sensation put an indefinable fear into him, fear of himself and +the weakness he had just discovered. Of a sudden the currency seemed +to scorch his palms. He shrugged, and the spell was broken. With an +inward paroxysm he flung the money down on the table. “Not even that is +enough,” he announced in slightly dazed tones, like one just awakening +from a dream. + +The spokesman’s head came up a little. With a shrug and an indistinct +mutter he once more opened the drawer, but Cole laid a detaining hand +on his sleeve. + +“Wait!” he said quietly. “You are going ahead on the idea that every +man has his price. You’re mistaken. There isn’t money enough in the +whole United States treasury to buy me.” + +There came a hush, and then a ripple of commotion went around the +table. It died instantly as the spokesman raised a silencing hand. He +tilted his head back, and through the holes in the mask his eyes bored +into Cole’s face. For a time not a sound was heard in the room. Finally +the spokesman gave a short, contemptuous laugh. “I see,” he declared. +“You’re a weakling like most men. You’re a slave to the absurd thing we +call conscience. I had hoped that you were one of the rare exceptions.” + +“Wrong again,” said Cole, smiling. “It isn’t conscience. Anyway, I +wouldn’t call it that. It is only pride, a foolish pride, perhaps. I +want to go through life knowing that I can look every man straight in +the eye and tell him to go to the devil if necessary. I couldn’t do +that if I were to sell myself. I should become a despicable thing in my +own eyes, and life wouldn’t be worth living after that. I don’t suppose +you understand, but that’s just how I feel.” + +Seven pairs of eyes were leveled at Cole’s face as his short, crisp +sentences fell on the tense air. Then came silence, a long and oddly +vibrant silence during which Cole experienced an unaccountable feeling +that his life hung in the balance. He could neither understand it nor +trace it to its source, but the nameless sense of danger grew more +distinct with every moment. + +By instinct his hand went to the hip pocket in which he always carried +a small, but reliable, pistol. Before his hands could touch the weapon +a strange thing happened. The spokesman’s arm described a slight +movement in the dusk, and in a twinkling utter darkness fell. Cole +stood in blackness so intense that it seemed as though he could touch +it. + +His fingers found the handle of the pistol, but in the next instant his +hand fell to his side. In that impenetrable darkness the weapon was of +no more avail than a toy. He heard a faint scraping of chairs, then a +patter of feet. He groped for the chair where the spokesman had sat, +but it was empty. Gradually the faint sounds ceased, and then came an +engulfing silence. It was as if every manifestation of life had been +drained out of the blackness that surrounded him. + +Silence—darkness—solitude. Cole, as he dropped into the spokesman’s +chair, felt as if the three words had suddenly acquired a new and more +powerful significance. + + + + + CHAPTER III + + THE TEMPTRESS SPEAKS + + +Five minutes passed. Cole could no longer control his restlessness. He +got up from the chair and went gropingly across the heavily carpeted +floor. His footsteps made scarcely a sound, and he had a queer +sensation that the darkness and silence were insinuating themselves +into his very pores. It was as if a magic spell had fallen over him. He +could no longer trust his reason or his senses. + +He stopped short as a faint whisper went through the dead silence. With +head thrown back and straining his ears, he listened. Again the whisper +came, trailing through the blackness like a disembodied breath. He +groped in the direction whence the sound came, and now he could hear it +quite distinctly. + +“Mr. Cole!” + +Tracing the sound vibrations, he crossed the floor and brought up +against the wall. Again his name was spoken, and now he had an +impression that the speaker was only a few feet away. He thought he +recognized the voice. + +“Mr. Cole!” + +His highly sensitized ears gauged and dissected each small fraction +of a syllable. He knew he was not mistaken. The voice belonged to the +woman who had introduced herself by the absurdly inappropriate name of +Miss Brown. + +“Where are you?” he asked. He fumbled with his hands in the dark, but +found nothing but emptiness. He turned and ran his fingers up and +down the wall until he encountered a metallic object imbedded in the +paneling. Again his name was called, and he gave a short laugh as he +realized that the sounds were coming to him through the mouthpiece of a +speaking tube. The touch of the cold metal against his fingers seemed +to shatter an illusion. Simple though the contrivance was, it smacked +of up-to-dateness. A sense of reality broke the spell which the weird +events of the night had cast over him. + +“Hello,” he spoke into the mouthpiece. “You, Miss Brown?” + +A brief pause, and then her voice came to him in hurried tones that +bespoke intense excitement. “Yes, Mr. Cole. I must warn you. I feel +responsible for your predicament. Awful things will happen if you +persist in your headstrong course. You must abandon it and accept the +proposition that was made to you. Otherwise——” + +Her voice quavered and broke. The suspended sentence and the words she +had left unspoken impressed Cole grimly. He could almost see her, white +and shuddering at the other end of the speaking tube. Though he knew +she was a clever actress, there was an earnestness in her tones that +gave him pause. + +“You mean these men will kill me unless I accept their vile terms?” he +asked. + +“Oh, they will do worse than that! They are terrible men, Mr. Cole, +and they are in a desperate temper. Death, a hundred deaths, would +be preferable to the thing they intend doing. Won’t you come to your +senses before it’s too late? Oh, please——” + +Cole laughed into the mouthpiece. “Compose yourself, Miss Brown. Don’t +worry on my account. I’ve been in tight corners before, and I always +wriggled out of them somehow. I shall do so this time.” + +A sob sounded at the other end, and then all was quiet. Cole drew away +from the speaking tube. It might have been only another bit of clever +acting, but Miss Brown’s warning had left him in a state of tingling +suspense. She had hinted at dire things that were to happen to him, +and Cole tried to tell himself that she had only been exercising +her imagination. Such things belonged in the realm of romance and +melodrama. It was laughable to think that they might happen on the top +floor of a skyscraper, located close to the world’s financial nerve +center. The incongruity of it struck Cole as quite amusing. + +He chuckled, but in the next instant he sharply caught his breath. A +sound resembling that of a clicking lock reached his ears. He heard +nothing more, but he had a feeling that some one had entered the room, +that he was no longer alone. Instinctively he braced himself to resist +an attack. His ears were keyed to catch the slightest sound; every +muscle in his body had the tension of a cocked trigger. + +He stood with his back against the wall, all his senses quiveringly +alert. He could neither hear nor see, but he knew some one was +steadily approaching from the farther end of the long room. Presently +he could hear sounds of breathing, but the prowler’s progress was +still muffled by the heavy carpet. Now a little thud signified that +the intruder had walked up against the circular table, so he could +be no more than a few feet from where Cole stood. The fact that he +could not see who it was that was coming toward him made the suspense +nerve-racking. + +Suddenly he thought of matches. He searched his pockets, but the little +case in which he usually carried them was empty. Somewhere in the room +there must be an electric-light switch, but it was not likely he could +find it in the dark. + +He peered sharply into the blackness. Now his ears caught a pawing +sound, like that of some one crawling on hands and knees. He bent +forward a little, shoulders squared, for he knew the prowler was only a +foot or two away. Evidently he hoped Cole was unaware of his entrance +and expected to take his victim by surprise. + +A fumbling hand swept Cole’s knees, and he kicked out his foot with +great force, foiling the attempt to trip him. A startled yell testified +to the effectiveness of the kick, but in the next instant Cole knew +that his adversary had risen to his feet and was changing his tactics. +His fist struck out, but it landed on a body hard and firm as rock, and +the only apparent result of the blow was a stinging sensation in his +knuckles. He tried to strike again, but now his shoulders were seized +in a powerful grip that pinned his arms to his side and rendered him +helpless. + +His mind worked quickly, while the enormous weight of his adversary +bore him down. Evidently he was a huge man, and his arms were hard +as flails. Even if Cole’s hands had been free, his fists would have +made no stronger impression on the man’s body than on a wall of brick. +Though nimbler and more wiry than his opponent, Cole knew he could not +match him in brute strength and physical endurance. His only hope lay +in releasing his arms and, striking at the fellow’s face, batter him +into insensibility. + +He writhed and wriggled in the powerful embrace of the gigantic arms, +resisting the downward pressure till he felt as if his spine must snap. +Inch by inch his opponent was bending him to his knees, and all the +while his arms felt as if they were caught between metal springs. In +vain he put every ounce of strength into the struggle; the mountainous +body of his adversary was constantly forcing him downward. Already his +knees were touching the floor, and his neck felt as if it were being +gradually wrenched out of shape. + +His breath grew weak and fluttering. His heart pounded against his ribs +like a trip hammer. In the blackness tiny specks whirled before his +eyes. He knew the struggle must end soon, and the realization seemed +to kindle a flame within him. An idea shot like a flash through his +reeling mind. + +Suddenly he grew limp in the sturdy arms of his opponent. With a +grunt of satisfaction the latter let go his hold, and Cole lay flat +and inert on his back. For a few moments he drank huge gulps of air +into his straining lungs. Then, with the elastic swiftness of a spring +suddenly released, he leaped to his feet. With one hand he located his +adversary, with the other he drove a savage blow straight into the +man’s face. + +A short cry of pain and rage broke from the other’s lips. His hands +fumbled at Cole’s throat for a strangle hold, but the merciless +hammering of the latter’s fists drove him steadily backward. Whenever +his fingers tightened around Cole’s windpipe a rain of smashing blows +to nose and mouth forced him to relax his hold and retreat a little +farther toward the wall. Cole, his strength electrified by the joy of +battle, did not notice that his knuckles were bruised. Time and again, +with a sureness of aim that surprised himself, he drove them into the +other’s torn and mangled face. Already a stertorous breathing told that +his adversary was becoming groggy. Cole summoned all his strength for a +final knock-out blow. + +He flung his arm backward, and in the same instant the other uttered a +loud yell. Cole cut it short with a crashing thrust of his fist. With a +gasp his opponent went to the floor. For a moment he gave himself over +to the thrill of victory, but in the next instant he was all alertness. +A faint click signified that the door had opened, and now several pairs +of feet were stealing swiftly across the floor. + +Cole whirled around on his heels, but a stalwart form collided with +him, nearly sweeping him off his feet. Another hurled himself upon him +from behind, and a third jerked his legs from under him. With a sharp +sense of bafflement, Cole fell headlong to the floor. He struck out +with hands and feet, fighting with desperate vehemence, determined to +inflict all the injury he could on his opponents. + +But he was outnumbered three to one, and something of his strength had +been spent in the earlier encounter. Defiantly he met the onslaught, +but he was overpowered by numbers. Eventually they laid him on his +back, and then his adversaries shackled his hands and feet with stout +cord. He thought they were handling him with strange gentleness, and he +wondered if they were saving him for another ordeal. He remembered, as +he was picked up and carried, that Miss Brown had said something about +a fate worse than a hundred deaths. + +In silence the little procession passed through a door, and presently +Cole was placed on a cot. In a few moments the men walked out, and once +more he was left alone in impenetrable darkness. Not a word had been +spoken by his captors, and he had not obtained a single glimpse of +their faces. The whole episode had been enacted in silence and under +cover of darkness. + +The door opened just as his mind was shaking off the numbness that had +seized it when he fell. Some one walked up to the cot where he lay. For +a few moments no sound was heard save the slow breathing of the two +men. Finally the other spoke, and Cole recognized the voice of the one +who had acted as spokesman for the group around the circular table. + +“You’re an obstinate man, Mr. Cole. We have made you a very flattering +proposition, and you have seen fit to reject it. I have come to offer +you one more chance to comply with our wishes.” + +“And if I refuse,” said Cole evenly, “you will kill me, I suppose. I am +beginning to think you are quite capable of it.” + +“Oh, no!” The other man laughed softly. “We know you are not the kind +of man that’s afraid of death. Something stronger than fear for your +life is needed to bend you to our will. But we will bend you sooner or +later. Make no mistake about that.” + +The words were spoken in a tone of calm assurance that impressed Cole +against his will. + +“How, if I may ask?” + +“By a form of persuasion that is far more powerful than the fear of +death. After all, death is nothing. Only a dip into a void. A little +suffering, perhaps, and then nothingness. There are things that are far +worse. Mr. Cole, did you ever stop to consider what your life would +amount to if you should suddenly lose your mind?” + +“What?” Cole gave an involuntary shudder. + +“Suppose that keen mind of yours should become a blank. Suppose that +your wonderful mental faculties were to desert you, that you were to +become a leering, tottering wretch, inspiring loathing and horror in +your fellow men. Can you picture such a fate, Mr. Cole? Death would be +a thousand times more merciful, yet you would lack the incentive to +kill yourself. What could be worse?” + +Cole was silent. The darkness gave free rein to his imagination, and +the picture he saw sent a cold shiver down his spine. + +“All that life means to you would be blotted out,” the other went on +with remorseless eloquence. “Instead of matching your wits against a +man’s problems, as at present, you would probably be devoting your +time to childish amusements. Imagine yourself placing buttons in a row +and building houses out of blocks. You would be dragging a useless and +broken body through life until——” + +“Stop it!” said Cole. “You’re in more danger of losing your mind than I +am. Yours is already a bit twisted, unless I’m mistaken.” + +“Don’t fool yourself. Unless you give us a reasonable guarantee that +you will comply with our wishes, you will be a grimacing lunatic by +morning. A very simple operation on the brain will do it. Among those +seven men whom you saw around the circular table is a noted surgeon. +Everything, including the ether and the instruments, will be ready in a +few minutes. There is still time for you to come to your senses.” + +In the back of Cole’s mind was a hazy suspicion that he was dreaming, +but the other’s calm and softly penetrating tones gave him a feeling of +reality. + +“You wouldn’t——” he began. + +“Ah, wouldn’t we? Just wait and see. Perhaps I can convince you.” + +Cole heard his footfalls cross the floor, and then a door opened and +closed. For a few minutes he was alone, trying to arrange in an orderly +process the odds and ends of the night’s amazing happenings. His +mind staggered before the task, and suddenly the door opened again. +He had a vague impression that two men were entering, and that they +were carrying a burden between them. They moved about quickly in the +darkness, and now and then they whispered in tones so low that Cole +could not hear them. + +A light flashed on, and in the same instant the door closed. After the +long period of utter darkness, the sudden glare had a blinding effect. +Cole blinked his eyes, but after a little he opened them wide in +astonishment, and the sight that met them drew a long, trembling gasp +from his lips. + +There was only one other man in the room, a shivering, gibbering wreck +of a man whose grimacing features and hollow cackle sent a series of +chill shivers through Cole’s body. For a long time he stared into the +leering, slowly twitching face before he was able to realize that the +wretch, seated a few feet from his cot, was Malcolm Reeves. + + + + + CHAPTER IV + + “YELLOW” + + +When he first went to work on the case of Reeves’ mysterious +disappearance, Cole had been shown several photographs of the missing +man. Along the numerous twistings of the trail, he had carried with him +a mental picture of a fine intellectual face, deep and rather somber +eyes, a long nose, whose slenderness hinted at aristocratic breeding, +a clean-cut jaw that denoted a great deal of aggressiveness, and lips +that were a trifle too full and might have suggested sensuality, if the +broad slope of the forehead had not conveyed a dominant impression of +the student and the thinker. The picture in Cole’s mind had represented +a man about fifty years old, with a virile personality and quiet tastes. + +The contrast between his mental image of Malcolm Reeves and the +miserable creature, now sitting a few feet away, was so sharp that the +comparison gave Cole a profound shock. His clothing hung loosely over +his bony frame, and he seemed to have aged decades in the three weeks +that had elapsed since his disappearance. His shoulders were hunched +down a little, his head was bent forward, and the eyes stared rigidly +into space, as if he were seeing something in the distance. His lips +were twisted into a fixed, vacant smile that impressed Cole as the most +hideous thing he had ever seen. + +He tried to spring from the cot, momentarily forgetting that his arms +and legs were bound. He sank back with a mutter of exasperation. Not +much imagination was required to guess that the men who had brought +about his own plight were also responsible for the condition of Malcolm +Reeves. + +Again something drew his glance to the insane man. The revolting +picture seemed to hold Cole with an uncanny fascination. “What’s +happened?” he inquired, realizing a moment later that he might as well +have addressed a wooden image. + +Reeves was still gazing fixedly at the opposite wall. There was a look +of insane glee in his shrunken eyes. He bent forward a little more, and +then his lips began to move. “Yellow,” he said. “Pretty yellow!” + +The soft-spoken words and the giggle that followed caused Cole to +shudder. He could see that Reeves’ mind, or the pitiful remnant of it, +was reveling in some childish fancy. The wreckage of a once splendid +intellect was horrible to behold. + +“What do you see?” he asked, wondering whether the man was capable of +any form of response. + +The other’s face brightened, but Cole thought it was only an external +glow, a reflected light rather than one kindled from within. He +recoiled inwardly as another stream of giggling mirth flowed from the +insane man’s lips. + +“Yellow,” said Reeves again. “Pretty yellow!” + +His expression became more rapt. His smile grew broader and deeper, but +to Cole it seemed nothing more than a contortion of facial muscles. +He wondered whether the two words were all that was left of the man’s +vocabulary. He felt a desire to test him and see if there was not a +remaining scrap of intellect that could be aroused. + +“Listen, Mr. Reeves,” he said sharply. “When did you last see Professor +Carmody?” + +The giggling ended in a quick intake of breath. Reeves’ smile faded +as abruptly as if an invisible hand had blotted it out. Watching him +intently, Cole could see that his question had touched a slumbering +chord in the man’s mind. Fear and something akin to hate blazed in the +shrunken eyes. It was a startling transformation, and Cole observed it +in wonder. He had mentioned Carmody’s name on the spur of a vagrant +impulse, wondering whether it would awaken a recollection in the débris +of Reeves’ intellect. The effect was far beyond his expectations. + +“Carmody!” said the insane man, and each syllable cut like a knife +through the silence. “Carmody!” + +He drew a shaking hand across his brow, and Cole fancied something was +stirring in the dark corners of his mind. His face took on a strained +look, as if he was trying to exercise the shattered remnants of his +intellect. There was a flicker of returning sanity, a feeble ray of +awakening reason. + +It did not last long. Reeves gave a little shudder, there was a +trembling gleam in his eye, then the fatuous grin came back to his +lips, and once more he mumbled in rapt tones: “Yellow. Pretty yellow!” + +Cole turned his head away with a shiver. His experiment had shown the +hopelessness of the insane man’s condition, but it had also suggested +several things to Cole. A recollection of a terrifying nature +seemed to be buried in the wreckage of Reeves’ mind, and evidently +it had something to do with Professor Carmody. Cole had felt certain +for a long time that the professor was responsible for the man’s +disappearance, but he had not cared to jeopardize his case by taking +action before he had sufficient evidence in his possession, as a +premature move on his part might have brought disastrous results. At +that time he had not been sure whether the missing man was dead or +alive. If still living, his safety might be endangered by hasty action, +for Carmody would not hesitate to kill him if he thought it advisable. +So Cole had waited, patiently biding his time and slowly, but surely, +strengthening the meshes in which he hoped to entangle the professor. + +Now he wondered to what extent his course had been correct. The +maniac’s startling reaction to the mention of Carmody’s name seemed to +confirm at least a part of his theory. What he could not understand +was how Reeves, granting that the professor was responsible for his +abduction, happened to be in this place of dark intrigue and baffling +mystery. Evidently there must be a connecting link between Professor +Carmody and the seven masked men who had sat around the circular table. +Likely as not they were accomplices, banded together for the attainment +of some secret object. That would at least explain why the seven men +were so determined that Cole should drop the Carmody case, though it +explained nothing else. + +A slight sound interrupted the speculations with which he had tried +to relieve the tension he felt. He turned his head a little and saw +that the door had opened a crack. A hand was inserted through the +narrow opening. For a moment it fumbled over the wall, then came a +faint click, and once more the room was dark. Men were moving about in +the black for a time, and then all was quiet. The silence seemed to +indicate that Cole was alone in the room, but he had an indefinable +feeling that some one was standing beside his cot. In a moment his +impression was confirmed. + +“Mr. Cole,” said a voice, and he recognized it at once, “I trust that +what you have just seen has put you in a more reasonable frame of mind. +Unless you comply with our wishes we shall do to you what we did to +Malcolm Reeves.” + +Cole strained spasmodically against the cords that fettered his hands +and feet. In the darkness his imagination sketched a picture of Reeves’ +hideously grinning face. For a moment he could almost hear the maniac’s +insane cackle. He banished the vision by sheer force of will. + +“There’s a great deal of finesse about your methods,” he ironically +observed. “I guessed, of course, that Reeves was brought in here to +serve as an object lesson to me. It was quite impressive.” + +“And you have reconsidered?” asked the other hopefully. + +Cole lay absolutely still on his back. It was all he could do to +exclude the disturbing pictures of Reeves from his mind. Whenever a +glimpse of it came back to him he felt a weakness that put him in fear +of himself. “Not exactly,” he managed to say in steady tones. “I have +merely been taking my own measure, as it were, trying to determine +whether the loss of pride and self-respect is worse than the loss of +one’s sanity.” + +“And what is your conclusion?” + +“I am still in doubt. There are so many ways of looking at the +situation. For instance, one thing to be considered is that lost +self-respect may be regained, while insanity is in most instances +incurable.” + +“Excellent,” murmured the other. “That’s a very rational way of looking +at the proposition. Such being the case it should not be difficult for +you to choose between the two alternatives.” + +“But it is,” protested Cole. “There is still another thing to be +considered. Suppose I were to accept your terms. All I could give you +would be my word of honor that I would live up to them.” + +“Quite sufficient,” the other put in. “We know you are not the kind of +man who goes back on his word.” + +“Thanks,” said Cole sarcastically. “Just the same one’s word of honor +is a rather intangible thing. You can’t bind me with a contract. It +would not be legal, no matter how ingeniously worded, and it might +incriminate yourselves. I am not in position to give you any pledges. +You would have to be content with my bare promise. It would be +sufficient in any ordinary case, but circumstances alter everything. I +realize I am at the mercy of a gang of unprincipled scoundrels.” + +“Your epithets don’t hurt us in the least,” remarked the other man +icily. + +“Didn’t expect they would. But don’t you see that, under the +circumstances, I would have no hesitancy at all about giving you a +promise that I didn’t intend to keep? I am not a bit quixotic, and I am +too practical to indulge in cheap heroics. I have no ambition to become +the hero of a tawdry melodrama. In order to escape a fate like the one +you inflicted on Reeves, I would promise anything, and so would every +other man whose head isn’t full of moonshine. You follow me?” + +“Perfectly. You are trying to make out that we have no hold over you. +Your reasoning isn’t bad, but you forget one thing. As it happens, we +are in a position to exact a pledge from you, one that will hold you to +us for life.” + +“What is it?” + +The other gave a soft laugh. “You saw what a hopeless case Reeves is. +There’s no reason why he should go on living any longer. The merciful +thing to do is to put him out of his misery.” + +“You mean——” + +“Exactly, Mr. Cole. You are to seal the promise you give us by hustling +Reeves off to a better world. We have planned it so that we will be +able to prove that you killed him. Having incriminated yourself to that +extent, and with the evidence in our possession, we need have no fear +that you will go back on your word of honor. And now that we thoroughly +understand each other, I must ask you to decide promptly. Our time is +valuable.” + +A few moments passed in silence, but to Cole they were like weeks. +Never before in all his life had so many thoughts and emotions been +crowded into such a narrow space of time. He felt weak and shaken when +it was over, but his voice was clear. “My answer is no,” he declared. +“If I were able I would give it to you in a more emphatic manner.” + +“Sorry, Mr. Cole,” replied the other. “I won’t accept your decision +as final, however. I trust you will reconsider before you become +unconscious under the ether.” + +With that he went out, leaving an ominous silence behind him. Cole +tore frantically at the cords around his wrists, but they only cut the +deeper into his flesh. He could see no escape from the awful fate that +awaited him. Time and again the picture of Reeves’ fatuously grinning +face came back to him, causing him to writhe in mental torment. A +tempting voice seemed to whisper in his ear, turning his thoughts into +strange channels. To end a life that was worse than a living death +appeared not such a dreadful thing to do. Cole himself would have +preferred to die rather than suffer a fate like Reeves’. If he should +ever fall into such a condition he would consider the man a benefactor +who ended his misery. + +He shook himself violently. A clammy perspiration was bathing his +forehead. With a mental and physical paroxysm he brushed away the +temptation to which he had nearly yielded a moment ago. Footsteps +were approaching the door, and he knew a critical moment was at hand. +Something within him that was stronger than reason and logic shrank +from the mere thought of taking Reeves’ life. He wondered if there was +no other alternative. + +He tried to take a calm view of the situation. Though his hands and +feet were tightly bound his persecutors evidently had not thought it +necessary to strap him to the cot, since he would soon be under the +influence of the ether. By experimenting he found that he could turn +over on his sides and, thanks to the fact that his hands had been tied +in front instead of behind, he was able to move his arms up and down +and in a horizontal direction. Since he could not use his hands he did +not see how he could turn this circumstance to his advantage, yet it +continued to tantalize his imagination. + +The door opened, and his ears told him that several men were entering +the room. For a time they moved about in the darkness, as if making +preparations of some sort. After a little the footsteps receded, and +then the door opened and closed once more. Cole guessed that all but +one or two of the men had withdrawn. After another brief delay, the +lights flashed on once more, this time illuminating a different scene. + +Reeves was back in the room, occupying the same chair in which he had +sat the other time, but now his limbs were as tightly manacled as +Cole’s own. He moved his head slowly from side to side, as if sensing +something unusual in the air, but his vacant stare showed that he had +not the faintest inkling of what was going on. + +After a glance at him, Cole looked away. Not far from the cot stood a +tall man with a black beard that covered nearly his entire face. He +was holding a number of surgical implements to the light, giving each +one a critical inspection before he placed it on a small table with a +glass top that stood beside the cot. Cole could not restrain a shudder +as he saw how calmly the man examined the sinister-looking little +tools. There was a professional air about him that in Cole’s mind +stamped him as a surgeon. + +Again his glance moved to the insane man, whose dull gaze seemed to be +taking in each detail of the scene. The meaning of the little knives +and the presence of the black-bearded man was terrifyingly clear. + +The surgeon placed the last of the knives on the table beside the +cot. They lay there in plain view, so close to Cole that if his hands +had been free he could have reached out and touched them. The long, +slender metal blades gleamed diabolically in the electric lights, and +he wondered if they had been placed like that for the sole purpose of +impressing their hideous significance upon him. + +The black-bearded man came closer to the cot, and Cole caught a full +view of his face. He had seen it once before, though only dimly, +for the surgeon was one of the seven who had sat in the dusk at the +circular table. He had worn a mask then, but the black beard, the high +forehead and the bald spot on top of his head were unmistakable. Now +his features were unveiled, and in this circumstance Cole saw a grim +significance. The surgeon no longer had any reason to fear that Cole +might recognize him if they should meet again. + +He stopped beside the glass-topped table and, with hands clasped at his +back, fixed a tranquil gaze on the reclining man. “You have one more +chance, Mr. Cole,” he remarked in a casual tone. “Hadn’t you better +reconsider your refusal?” + +Cole looked up into the bearded face with a feeling that there was +something peculiar about it, but his mind was too agitated to analyze +the impression. In a playful manner the surgeon picked up one of the +knives, holding it so that the light flashed against the keen blade. + +Cole was trying to frame an answer, but just then something drew his +gaze to the insane man. Reeves was straining forward in his chair, +bending his weight against the fettering cords. From where he sat he +had a clear view of both Cole and the surgeon, and his eyes were fixed +with wild intensity on the knife in the latter’s hand. Time and again +he opened his lips, but the only sound that came was a hoarse rattle in +his throat. + +“Well, Mr. Cole?” + +The surgeon, paying no attention to the lunatic, looked impatiently +at Cole. Reeves, with mouth gaping and features horribly distorted, +continued to stare at the knife. + +“You refuse?” The surgeon waited a moment longer for an answer; then, +with a shrug, he replaced the knife and stepped aside. Cole felt a +sudden rush of blood to his head. If he was to escape a fate worse than +death he must act at once. He spurred his wits to think of something +to do. A tinkling, like that of a jar or a bottle being moved, sounded +in the room. Again he bent his mind to the seemingly hopeless task +of finding a way out, but, even in this moment of desperate peril, he +could not take his gaze from the insane man’s face. + +Reeves sat with shoulders hunched up and head turned a little to one +side. Now and then his mouth twisted at the corners; from time to time +a shudder broke the tension of his figure. A series of slight gurgling +sounds fell on the stillness at intervals. All the while his eyes, with +a smoldering something in their depths, were fixed on the knives spread +out on the glass-topped table. + +Suddenly Cole’s body executed a little writhing motion. His nostrils +sucked in a strong, sickening odor. With a sponge in his hand, the +surgeon was coming toward the cot. + +Once more, in a delirium of suspense, Cole glanced at the insane man. +The quick dilation of Reeves’ nostrils told he also had noticed the +ether. The chair creaked as he put his weight against the cords. There +was a look on his face that Cole felt would follow him through the +night of madness that threatened to engulf him. Reeves’ chest heaved +violently, his whole body seemed to be rocked by a tumultuous emotion, +and finally a long and oddly vibrant cry broke from his lips. + + + + + CHAPTER V + + DISGUISED + + +To Cole’s rapt gaze the insane man presented a picture at once fearful +and fascinating. Reeves was no longer looking at the keen-bladed +knives, but now he was staring at the black-bearded surgeon with an +intensity that seemed to strain every nerve and muscle in his body. The +knotted cords at his temple swelled and took on a livid hue. Slowly and +shakily he drew himself erect in the chair, and then his whole body was +rocked by a paroxysm so violent that, for an instant, Cole thought the +cords were about to snap. + +The surgeon, with the reeking sponge in his hand, turned and watched +the maniac. A smile twisted the bearded lips, and he stepped to the +chair and spoke a few words in Reeves’ ears. The insane man’s chest +heaved out, but the cry and the paroxysm seemed to have exhausted his +energies, and only a feeble, fluttering moan came. + +The spectacle had held Cole spellbound. Now, while the surgeon was +leaning over the insane man and whispering in his ear, a sudden +realization of his peril caused him to throw off the weird fascination +which the scene had cast on him. He had only a few moments in which to +act. Soon the reeking sponge would be at his nostrils, deadening his +mental faculties. + +His darting glance fell on the knives lying on the glass-topped table +beside the cot. They were so close to him that they seemed to mock and +taunt him. Again it occurred to him that they had been placed like that +for the sole purpose of impressing their infernal purpose upon him and +battering down his fortitude. It had been a touch of refined cruelty +on the black-bearded man’s part, but it only strengthened Cole’s +determination not to yield. + +Suddenly, as he kept looking at the knives, the gleam of an inspiration +crept into his narrowing eyes. He cast a swift glance about the room. +The black-bearded man was still occupied with Reeves and stood with his +back turned to the cot. Cole, trembling with excitement, turned over on +his side and wriggled as close to the edge of the cot as he could. He +reached out his manacled hands over the glass-topped table. The cords +around the wrists gave the fingers considerable leeway. In an instant +they had closed around the handle of the nearest knife. + +Cole tingled from head to foot. The subtle bit of strategy by which the +black-bearded man had hoped to shatter his victim’s nerve had now been +turned to Cole’s advantage. It gave him a fighting chance, though the +odds were still overwhelmingly against him. His lips curled a little, +and there was a belligerent sparkle in his eyes. Turning over on his +back he dropped the knife beside him on the pillow, so that his head +would temporarily screen it from the surgeon’s sight. Then, letting his +arms fall limply back against his abdomen, he waited for the surgeon to +act. + +Presently the black-bearded man turned away from Reeves and stepped up +to the cot. Cole lay motionless, with eyes half closed, as if partly +dazed by contemplation of the terrible fate that awaited him. Inwardly +he was straining and quivering with suspense. As yet the surgeon did +not seem to have noticed that one of the knives was missing from the +table, but he might do so any moment, and then Cole’s only hope would +be gone. + +“Well, Mr. Cole?” he asked lightly. “For the last time I ask you to +reconsider your refusal.” + +Cole lay very still. The last few minutes of suspense seemed to have +wrought a great change in him. His lips moved as if he were trying to +speak, but was too weak to use his voice. + +The surgeon grinned into his beard. Evidently he thought the knives +placed so close to his victim’s side had exerted the intended +psychological effect. + +“Have you anything to say?” he asked, bending over the cot in an effort +to catch Cole’s faintly mumbled words. + +Cole flexed his muscles for action. The moment for which he had waited +was at hand. His chance had come; everything depended upon how he used +it. He mumbled again, and the surgeon’s head came a little closer to +his chest. + +“A little louder, please,” said the black-bearded man. + +Slowly, by imperceptible degrees, Cole drew up his manacled hands +toward his chin. Suddenly his arms shot upward, forming a circular loop +that instantly descended over the surgeon’s head. With a startled cry +the black-bearded man tried to draw back, but the arms that encircled +his shoulders were as strong and hard as springs of steel. He +struggled frantically, but the encircling grip pinned his arms tightly +to his sides, and his head was constantly being forced lower and lower +toward the reclining man’s chest. The sponge had dropped from his hand +the moment Cole’s arms were flung around his neck. + +An exultant thrill went through Cole as the other’s resistance grew +feebler. Now the surgeon’s head was almost level with his face. The +only sounds in the room were the hard panting of the adversaries and +an occasional giggle from the insane man. Fumes of ether were slowly +filling the air. + +Cole turned his head. In an instant the handle of the knife was firmly +gripped between his strong, even teeth. He thrust out his jaw, and the +point of the weapon grazed the black-bearded man’s throat. Cole saw +a look of fear creep into the man’s eyes. The surgeon made a final +attempt to wriggle free, but Cole’s arms held him as in a vise. Once +more the knife, tightly clasped between Cole’s jaws, scratched the +other’s flesh. He remarked again the look of terror that was stamped +on the surgeon’s face. In view of the diabolical fate which the man +had meant to inflict on him Cole was human enough to enjoy the other’s +agony. + +Suddenly he bent a sharper look on the man’s face. Once before he had +wondered why there seemed to be something peculiar about it, but this +was his first chance to examine the features at close quarters. Now he +noticed that the beard which covered most of the face had an unnatural +appearance. There were lines about the eyes that did not seem quite +genuine, and the exposed portions of the skin had an odd coloring. +Obviously the man was disguised, and Cole could see that it had been +rather cleverly done. He wondered why the disguise had been put on, +since the surgeon had had every reason to expect that Cole would +leave the room a raving lunatic and that there would be no danger of +recognition if they should meet again. + +He had not time to think further about it. The deadlock was only +temporary; any fortuitous incident might upset Cole’s advantage; +instantly the door might open and admit one or more of the other +members of the gang. Just now he had the surgeon at his mercy. Only a +little slash with the knife, clamped between his teeth was needed to +open an artery, but that would not release him from his predicament. +Though he might be able to sever the cords around his ankles he could +not move his hands with sufficient freedom to cut the strings around +his wrists. While he was casting about for a plan a muffled groan of +fright and pain broke from the surgeon’s lips. Unconsciously Cole had +once more scratched the man’s throat with the knife. + +“You’re killing me!” protested the other man in a feeble voice. + +“It would serve you right,” declared Cole unfeelingly. “I don’t know +why I should have any compunction about killing a rat of your kind. We +might come to some arrangement, however. What will you do if I spare +your life?” + +“Anything, anything you say.” + +Cole considered. The thing of first importance was to get his hands +free of the cords. In his present position, with his arms pinned +tightly in Cole’s embrace the surgeon could not untie them, and Cole +did not see how he could give the man any freedom of movement without +imperiling his own advantage. + +“I am going to give you a chance for your life,” he said, “but if you +make the slightest false move you die instantly. Understand that?” + +“I’ll do whatever you say.” + +“All right, then. Turn over.” + +Cole relaxed his hold a trifle, and the surgeon turned in his arms. The +point of the knife did not leave his flesh for an instant, and at any +moment Cole could have inflicted a mortal wound by merely thrusting his +head forward. Now, with the end of the blade in dangerous proximity to +the surgeon’s jugular vein, Cole gingerly released one of the man’s +arms, then commanded him to untie the cords around his wrists. The +black-bearded man obeyed, and Cole transferred the knife from his mouth +to his right hand. In a short time his feet had been released, and now +he flung the surgeon aside and slipped from the cot. + +Reeves had watched the proceeding with a dull stare. Now and then a +hoarse giggle of glee had escaped him. + +The surgeon got to his feet and drew a long breath of relief. His eyes, +with a glint of lingering fear in their depths, watched Cole admiringly. + +“You’re a great scrapper, Mr. Cole,” he admitted. “You turned the +tables with a truly artistic touch. For a time I was in fear for my +life. There was no time to explain, and you wouldn’t have believed me +anyway.” + +“Explain?” Cole asked contemptuously. The little knife was still +clutched tightly in his hand. “One doesn’t expect explanations from +curs of your type.” + +The surgeon laughed, and in the same instant his fingers touched a +button. Cole flexed his muscles for another supreme test. Out of the +corner of an eye he watched the surgeon; the other eye was fixed on +the door. In a moment or two it would probably open in response to +the surgeon’s ring, and men would come tumbling upon him from all +directions. Cole smiled grimly. He would die fighting rather than +expose himself to the other and more terrible fate from which he had +just escaped. + +The door opened, and he poised himself, ready to spring forward. +The nerve-racking suspense, which he had undergone on the cot, was +forgotten now. His eye was clear, and his brain was rapidly throwing +off the ether fumes that had escaped from the surgeon’s sponge. The +hand in which he held the knife came upward, prepared to strike down +the first man who should approach. + +Some one entered through the open door, and the arm fell limply to +Cole’s side. With gaping mouth he stared at the newcomer who executed a +profound bow, while he pointed to the outer room. “Will you kindly step +this way, Mr. Cole?” he asked in the courteous tones of a well-trained +servant. + +Cole laughed. The sudden reaction made him feel giddy. He had expected +at least half a dozen men to pounce on him when the door opened. By +contrast there was something ludicrous about the salaaming figure, now +confronting him. + +“If you please, Mr. Cole.” The man again waved his hand toward the +outer room, and Cole obligingly followed his direction. There seemed +to be nothing else to do than wait for the other side to make the next +move. If he was walking into a trap, as appeared not at all unlikely, +he still had the knife to defend himself with. And that was not all, +he suddenly remembered; his pistol was still in his hip pocket. It was +rather odd, he reflected, as he walked behind the servant, that no +attempt had been made to take it from him. + +In a few moments he was back in the long room with the circular table. +The seven masked men were again grouped around it, and the light was as +dim as before. The servant ushered him up to the chair occupied by the +spokesman, then silently glided away. Once more Cole felt seven pairs +of eyes searching his face, but this time he was aware of a new quality +in the air. + +“You may feel quite at ease, Mr. Cole,” the spokesman began. “I can +promise that no harm will come to you.” + +The calm, matter-of-fact tones incensed Cole when he recalled by what +a narrow margin he had escaped the fate which these men had tried to +inflict upon him. + +“How magnanimous!” he gibingly exclaimed. + +The other chuckled. “Oh, we can understand that you don’t feel +particularly friendly toward us. Incidentally we know all that happened +in the other room. You acquitted yourself nobly, Mr. Cole.” + +“Save your compliments. They are on a par with your promises.” + +“You would naturally feel that way after what has happened. Mr. Cole, I +am going to ask you to forget what occurred in the other room.” + +“Forget?” asked Cole incredulously, feeling as though the episode he +had just passed through would live in his memory till his dying day. + +“Well, perhaps that is asking too much,” the other admitted. “By the +way, your bitterness toward us is natural enough, but don’t you find +some compensation in the knowledge that you have passed through fire +unscathed? You remained true to yourself in one of the severest tests a +man can be subjected to. Isn’t there some satisfaction for you in that?” + +“Oh, yes, a lot,” said Cole ironically. “It’s worth something to a man +to know that nothing can bend him. If you expect me, however, to get +down on my knees and thank you for giving me a chance to prove myself +you are mistaken.” + +“We don’t expect anything of the kind. I am merely trying to point out +that you have cause for self-congratulation as well as bitterness. You +probably won’t be able to forget what has happened, but I am going to +ask you to dismiss it from your mind temporarily, while I make a new +proposition to you.” + +Cole felt a trifle dazed. The effrontery of the man was unbelievable. +For a moment he suspected it was all a weird jest. “Go on,” he said +dryly. “Your superb insolence interests me. I am curious to see how +far it will carry you.” + +“You shall see in a few minutes. I will begin by stating certain facts. +Perhaps later on I shall be able to prove them to their satisfaction, +but just now I must ask you to accept them as an hypothesis.” + +“Proceed,” said Cole. “I’ll try to believe that black is white.” + +“That’s practically what it amounts to. The first fact I am asking you +to accept on faith, for the present, is that we are not responsible for +Malcolm Reeves’ deplorable condition. An operation was performed on his +brain, but we had nothing to do with it.” + +He paused as if expecting an objection. + +“The second fact I am asking you to accept provisionally,” he went +on when Cole showed no inclination to speak, “is that we are just as +anxious to solve the Carmody case as you can possibly be. We are more +anxious, in fact, for we know more about its vast scope and enormous +complexities than you do. Are you with me so far, Mr. Cole?” + +Cole’s shoulder made a seesawing motion. The whole thing was +preposterous, but there was a quality in the man’s tone that impressed +him against his will. “You are asking me to believe that you are sheep +in wolves’ clothing,” he remarked. + +“That’s undoubtedly how it looks to you. Won’t you try to brush +your doubts aside, Mr. Cole? Remember that in due time I will prove +everything I say.” + +Cole’s indignation was cooling. There was something about the +spokesman that seemed to exert a subtle magnetism on him. Already his +dreadful experience in the other room seemed dim and remote, though a +few minutes ago he had thought it was indelibly etched on the scroll of +his memory. “If what you say is true, then why——” + +“No questions, please. You would not believe me if I were to answer +them. All I can say now is that we have excellent reasons for what we +have done. Some time before long I think you yourself will approve +them. Just now you must accept my statements on faith. Will you try to +believe that we had nothing to do with Reeves’ condition and that we +are on your side in the Carmody matter?” + +“You can’t deny that you tried to put me in the same condition Reeves +is in?” + +“We can, but we won’t just at present. What happened in the other room +I am asking you to dismiss from your mind in order that you may view +the facts I have placed before you in an unbiased frame of mind. With +that episode eliminated can’t you place a little temporary credence in +what I say?” + +Cole tried to clarify his thoughts, but without much success. He +realized with satisfaction that his hand was still clutching the +knife. He wondered whether, but for his quickness of mind and his deft +handling of the little weapon, he would not now be a raving madman. +It seemed strange that he was able to think coolly about the matter, +and stranger still that he found himself listening to the spokesman’s +arguments with any degree of seriousness. + +Finally he shook his head. “It won’t quite go down,” he declared. “You +are asking me to take too much for granted. One’s brain was made to +think with, and your statements won’t bear too close reasoning. You +will have to give me your proofs before I can believe you.” + +A pause followed his words; then a chorus of whispers went around the +table. The spokesman leaned over and consulted the man seated beside +him. + +“I don’t blame you,” he declared, again turning to Cole. “After +all, your skepticism is quite natural. It is even a tribute to your +intellectual powers, for only children and feeble-minded persons accept +unsupported statements. Now, as for proofs, let me see. Would you be +convinced if you should find the man who is responsible for Reeves’ +condition?” + +“You know who he is?” + +“We have had our suspicions for some time, but we were not certain +until a short while ago. A delicate operation, by which certain brain +cells were deadened, was performed on Reeves. We knew Professor Carmody +could not have performed it, for he is not a surgeon. We began to look +for an accomplice, and finally we found a man who seemed to fit into +our theory of the case. Mr. Cole, did you ever hear of Doctor Dickson +Latham?” + +“Never,” said Cole. + +“Well, certain circumstances, which needn’t be mentioned just now, made +us believe that Doctor Latham was the man whom we were looking for. The +matter was really of no great importance, only one of the minor angles +of the case, but any little light, shed on the corners of the mystery, +might help toward solving the whole. We felt fairly certain Doctor +Latham was our man; in the last hour we have become positive of it.” + +“In the last hour!” exclaimed Cole. “How?” + +“Malcolm Reeves told us.” + +“Reeves told you?” + +“By his actions, while you were lying on the cot. We had two reasons +for staging that little scene in the other room. The primary one we +won’t go into at present. The other was to jog the dead part of Reeves’ +brain back to life, by having him witness the preparations for an +operation that, in its essential aspects, must have resembled the one +performed on himself. We hoped that the smell of the ether, the sight +of the knives and the preparations in general would awaken a slumbering +memory in his mind. The experiment was only partly successful, but +Reeves’ actions proved beyond doubt that he recognized the officiating +surgeon.” + +Through the dusk Cole stared into the speaker’s calm face. “Then the +surgeon——” + +“You probably didn’t notice it,” the other interrupted, “but the man +who officiated as the surgeon was disguised. The disguise was put on by +one of our men, an expert in that line.” + +“I noticed it, and it was a good job,” Cole remarked. “I couldn’t see +why it was necessary, though.” + +“The disguise was put on, not to hoodwink you, but for its effect on +Reeves.” + +“I don’t understand.” + +“But you will when I tell you that the disguise gave the officiating +surgeon a superficial, but fairly convincing, resemblance to Doctor +Dickson Latham.” + +“Clever, I’ll say!” exclaimed Cole who could appreciate ingenuity even +in men who had caused him the most agonizing moments in his life. He +recalled Reeves’ intense agitation while the preparations were in +progress. At the time he had not known what it meant, but he remembered +that the surgeon had watched Reeves very closely, and this had given +Cole his chance to snatch up the knife from the table. + +“There is no doubt that Reeves thought he was seeing the man who had +performed the operation upon him,” the spokesman went on. “One of us +was watching the scene through a small opening in the wall, and it was +quite evident that the surgeon’s resemblance to Doctor Latham gave +Reeves a profound shock. Our suspicions have been confirmed, but as yet +we have no legal proof. We want you, Mr. Cole, to go out and get the +evidence against Doctor Latham.” + +“Me?” + +“Why not? You are a detective, a very good one, though the fact +isn’t generally known. If you find that Latham is guilty you will +be more inclined to credit our statements and think favorably of +the proposition we shall make you. You will leave here as you came, +blindfolded and under guard. Until we understand each other better we +don’t want you to learn too much about us. You will wish to sleep late +in the morning, but to-morrow afternoon you can attack the Carmody case +from a new angle.” + +“And my clients?” asked Cole. + +“You will be all the better able to serve them because of your +connection with us. As soon as you have found your evidence against +Latham, or learned enough to convince you that we are trustworthy, you +will come here again and report. We shall find a way of communicating +with you in due time. What do you say to the idea?” + +Cole pondered. He tried to analyze the situation, but all he could +see were contradictions and perplexities. His only clear thought was +that he had nothing to lose and perhaps much to gain by adopting the +suggestion. His glance swept the circle of masked faces, all of them +turned expectantly in his direction. + +“The idea is good,” he finally declared. “I shall pay my respects to +Doctor Latham to-morrow afternoon.” + + + + + CHAPTER VI + + DOCTOR LATHAM + + +The sun was several hours high the following morning when Kingdon Cole +jumped out of bed and, from force of habit, turned toward his bathroom. +A glance into the mirror on the white-tiled wall made him start. + +A man, even though he have nerves of steel and a constitution hard as +armor, can’t pass through a siege of intense mental torture without +showing traces of it. The nerve-racking agony, which Cole had undergone +while lying on the cot, had left marks which seven hours of sound +sleep had not removed. There was a suspicion of pallor beneath the +bronze of his face. The usual brightness of his eyes was dimmed by +a smoldering flicker which hinted at a long glimpse into infernal +horrors. His face was drawn, and there were telltale lines and furrows. +A twenty-four-hour growth of beard did not improve his appearance. + +“Nerves a bit on edge,” he told himself, turning away from the mirror. +“Look as if I hadn’t slept a wink in a week. My landlady would tell me +I need a doctor, but a shower and a shave will make me as chipper as a +colt.” + +Whistling, he stepped into the tub and turned on the water. A few +minutes of wriggling and writhing under the icy shower would remove all +signs of his adventure. He thrilled to the first cold splash, and then +Cole drew back from beneath the shower. His lips twisted slowly. + +“Guess I’ll try a doctor instead,” he decided. “I’m really in pretty +bad shape. Nervous symptoms are not to be trifled with. I’ll see what +Doctor Dickson Latham has to say about my condition.” + +Reluctantly he turned off the cold current and resigned himself +to a lukewarm bath that did not refresh him in the least. Not too +graciously, for habit becomes an exalted thing with men who live alone, +he also decided to forgo his regular morning shave. It was best, he +whimsically reflected, that Doctor Latham should see him at his worst. +He dressed with less than his usual care, took in the bottle of milk +and the newspaper that were always left at his door, and, before +starting to prepare his own simple breakfast, poured out a saucerful of +milk for “Toots.” + +Toots was a white-and-yellow cat who had slipped into his rooms one +morning and made herself at home. Cole hadn’t had a word to say about +the arrangement. He had been helpless before Toots’ firmness, and the +cat had made herself a fixture in his establishment. With a languid +indifference and an occasional feline shrug she permitted herself +to be waited on by Cole, who at times wondered whether the cat was +patronizing him. When Toots selected his softest pillow to sleep on and +sunned herself on his writing desk beside the window Cole felt that the +sanctity of his bachelor existence was being violated, but the cat’s +blandly tyrannizing ways left him without a word of protest. + +After breakfast he called up Doctor Latham’s office and made an +appointment for half past two. Then he sat down with his newspaper +and pipe, the latter a smelly affair with a bowl shaped into the +resemblance of a monkey’s face. It was an odd conceit, and it had +been given him in lieu of his fee by an impecunious client. Only +once had Cole had words with his landlady, and that was when the +well-intentioned woman had undertaken to scrape out the bowl of his +favorite pipe with a potato peeler. Cole smoked a weird mixture, +compounded by himself of several domestic brands and spiced with a dash +of perique. The strong concoction was a stimulant to mental effort, but +at first he had hesitated to smoke such pungent stuff in the presence +of the dainty Toots. The cat had not seemed to mind, however. + +He turned the pages of his newspaper, but found nothing that interested +him. At length he threw the paper aside and refilled his pipe. Toots +was sprawled out on the unfinished manuscript of an article on criminal +tendencies which he was preparing for a psychological review. He gave +the cat a reproachful glance, but said nothing. There were times when +Toots seemed to go too far. + +He looked out into the warm sunlight that bathed Gramercy Park, but +his thoughts were flitting in and out of a maze of rooms on the top +floor of a skyscraper, located somewhere in the financial center. His +recollections of the previous night were a queer medley of horror +and mystery, of things that were terribly vivid and others that were +dim and disconnected like a dream. Now, as he sat in the sunlight, +leisurely smoking his pipe, he tried to picture the mystic circle in +the dimly lighted room. He could not quite focus his mental vision on +the scene; it was too shadowy and unreal. The seven masked faces melted +into a blur, then faded away completely. It was no use trying to guess +who those seven men were, or what their amazing conduct might mean. +Perhaps his interview with Doctor Latham would suggest a solution to +the mystery. + +The idea of approaching the doctor in the rôle of a patient had been +something of an inspiration, but he had made no plans beyond that. +The mock consultation would give him a chance to take the physician’s +mental and physical measure and see what manner of man he was. Cole +was a good judge of faces and a keen observer of human nature. To him +the slightest gesture and the most casually spoken word had a meaning +all their own. His first aim was to find out whether Latham was the +kind of man who might commit such an atrocious crime as the operation +on Malcolm Reeves; after that he would let his actions be guided by +developments. + +Before starting for his appointment he thought it might be well to +gather a few facts about the physician. He consulted his copy of “Who’s +Who.” Dickson Latham was a specialist in nervous disorders, a graduate +of several universities, a member of several learned societies, and his +claim to distinction rested on his having written a number of treatises +on cerebral surgery. The last fact seemed significant to Cole. He +closed the book, gave Toots another mildly reproachful look, and went +out to lunch. + +A few minutes before half past two he rang the doorbell of the old +brownstone house in the Sixties, just east of Fifth Avenue, in which +Doctor Latham resided and had his office. A young woman in the +reception room handed him a magazine six months old and asked him to +wait. Cole sat down and glanced about him out of the tail of an eye, +while he pretended to look at the pictures in the periodical. It was +a commonplace room, stuffily crowded with upholstered furniture. Two +bookcases were filled with ponderous volumes in drab bindings. It was +the typical reception room of a fairly thriving physician who derives +most of his patronage from the neurotic and dyspeptic individuals of +the upper middle class. + +After a brief wait Cole was facing the physician across a mahogany desk +in the inner office. + +“What seems to be the matter?” asked Doctor Latham in a brisk, cheerful +voice. + +“Nerves,” said Cole, making a lugubrious face. “No appetite. Can’t +sleep nights. Always tired and out of sorts.” + +“Well, well, that’s too bad. You do look a bit run down, Mr. Stone. Let +me see your tongue.” + +“Stone” was the name Cole had given over the telephone. It had seemed +an unnecessary precaution, since Kingdon Cole was known to only a few +people. His name seldom if ever appeared in connection with his work +as a criminal investigator, but Cole always practiced discretion to a +fault. + +While Doctor Latham looked at his tongue and felt his pulse Cole +studied the physician closely, without appearing to do so. His first +glance gave him a deep respect for the skill with which the surgeon +of the night before had been made up. Doctor Latham was an inch or so +taller, also a trifle thinner, and his black beard had the vitalic +sheen that is not easily imitated; otherwise the resemblance was quite +impressive. + +“Let me test your heart,” said the doctor, reaching for his stethoscope. + +Cole bared his chest. He was already beginning to suspect that he +was chasing a fool’s errand. Doctor Latham did not seem capable of +deliberate wrongdoing, to say nothing of a fiendish crime. In vain Cole +searched his face for the faintest trace of duplicity. The physician +had the perennial optimism and the bristling cheerfulness that, in +cases of nervous disorders, are far more efficacious than pills and +extracts. The very tone of his voice, together with his hearty laugh, +acted as a stimulant on jaded nerves. + +“There isn’t anything the matter with you, Mr. Stone,” he declared when +the examination was finished. “I can give you a tonic if you wish, but +a couple of days’ rest will do you more good.” + +Cole buttoned up his shirt and replaced his collar. He felt certain now +that his visit to the doctor’s office had been in vain. Latham’s kindly +smile would have disarmed any suspicions remaining in his mind. It was +a charming smile, a flash of white teeth against a setting of black +beard, and it gave the final magnetic touch to a compelling personality. + +Cole chided himself for wasting valuable time, but he wished to make +doubly sure before leaving the office. He wondered what would be the +effect on the doctor if he should suddenly mention the name of Malcolm +Reeves. None at all, very likely, he told himself; yet he felt an +itching desire to make the test. + +He took out his pocketbook and looked questioningly at the doctor, +meanwhile wondering how he might mention Reeves’ name in a casual, and +yet sufficiently abrupt, manner to make the test conclusive. + +“Sit down, Mr. Stone,” said Doctor Latham, waving him to a chair. “You +interest me. What is your profession?” + +“Author,” said Cole, recalling that he had two volumes on criminology +to his credit. + +“Ah! And what do you write?” + +“Trifling things,” said Cole modestly. “You probably never saw any of +them. Such frivolous reading matter wouldn’t interest you.” + +“I read very little. The medical journals and a glance at the +newspapers are about all I find time for. Do you know, Mr. Stone, that +you puzzle me considerably?” + +“Indeed!” said Cole absently, still wondering how he might precipitate +Malcolm Reeves’ name into the conversation. + +Doctor Latham smiled genially. A question kept teasing Cole’s mind. +What would be the effect on that beaming countenance if he should +suddenly speak Malcolm Reeves’ name? Probably none whatever, he once +more told himself; but the thought continued to tantalize him. + +“There is a type of neurasthenic that is known to every medical +practitioner,” the doctor went on. “Their symptoms are quite well +defined. Their ailments are mostly imaginary. On the slightest pretext +they will run to a physician with a long tale of woe. The physician +in most instances, gives them a little sympathetic advice, a harmless +tablet made up of sugar and dough, and pockets his fee. There’s nothing +else to do. If told that their troubles exist only in their imagination +they get offended and run to another doctor. Personally I don’t care +for that kind of patients. Now, Mr. Stone, you don’t belong to that +type. You are not a neurasthenic, far from it. I wish I had your +nerves.” + +Cole regarded him with a questioning look. + +Doctor Latham laughed pleasantly. “You’re in perfect condition, Mr. +Stone. Perhaps you have smoked too much, or taken too much strong +coffee in the last few days, resulting in one or two sleepless nights, +but there is nothing else the matter with you. Ordinarily you would +have shaken off the effects with a cold shower, or a hike in the +country. I dare say you haven’t consulted a physician more than two or +three times since you grew up. Under the circumstances I am somewhat +curious to know why you came to me.” + +Cole gave him a sharp glance, but the affably smiling face instantly +quieted the misgivings which the doctor’s statement had aroused. + +“What I don’t see,” Latham went on, “is why you went to a doctor at +all, and why to me in particular. We never saw each other until to-day. +I don’t flatter myself by thinking that you knew me by reputation. +People who have no regular physician usually go to some one recommended +to them by friends. They don’t like to consult a doctor who is an utter +stranger to them. Perhaps among my patients there is a friend of yours +who mentioned me to you?” + +“That’s it exactly,” said Cole, thrilling inwardly as he saw his chance +to pitch Reeves’ name into the conversation. “Only the other day I was +complaining to a friend of not feeling well, and he suggested I go to +you. His name——” + +“Ah,” asked Doctor Latham, speaking in very soft tones. “I wonder if +you are referring to Malcolm Reeves?” + +For a moment Cole looked as if he had received a blow between the +eyes. He gathered himself in an instant, but not before the doctor had +noticed his surprise. The physician was still smiling, but now the +smile was different. It was frosty and pale. “I see I guessed right,” +he murmured. + +“Is Reeves one of your patients?” Cole managed to ask. + +The doctor leaned back in the chair, crossed his long legs, and gazed +toward the ceiling. Cole became conscious of a distinct chill in the +air, and he felt irritated at himself for having stumbled into the same +trap he had set for the physician. Doctor Latham, he was beginning to +perceive, was a man whose mental thrust was as quick and sure as his +own. + +“Frankness is an excellent policy, Mr. Stone,” observed the physician +coldly. “We shall make better progress if you will put all your cards +on the table. You did not come here to consult me about your health. +May I ask why you are honoring me with this visit?” + +“You have not yet answered my own question,” observed Cole, quickly +rallying to the verbal fencing match. “Is Reeves a patient of yours?” + +The doctor lowered his gaze. His piercing eyes searched Cole’s face. A +faint flash of white teeth showed between the bearded lips. + +“I believe that question has a point to it,” he observed. “You ought to +know, Mr. Stone, that a physician never discusses his patients. It is +a very good rule, especially in the present instance. It affords me a +good excuse for not answering your question.” + +“Then you admit you found the question embarrassing?” + +“A discreet man never admits anything, Mr. Stone. I may point out, +however, that questions are never embarrassing, although answers +sometimes are. I believe Wilde says something to that effect in one of +his plays.” + +“Then you positively decline to answer?” + +“In order to spare us mutual embarrassment, yes. You see, Mr. Stone, +there are circumstances in which a truthful answer may convey an +erroneous impression. Now, won’t you tell me to what I owe the honor of +this visit?” + +“Is that a candid question, Doctor Latham?” + +“By no means, my friend. I knew the answer before I spoke the question. +I was merely curious to see whether you would reply truthfully.” + +Cole smiled. It was evident that Doctor Latham was a past master in the +art of dueling with words. The man’s frankness amazed him. In admitting +that he knew the purpose of Cole’s visit he had also admitted that he +knew something about Malcolm Reeves’ condition. But he had turned his +phrases so adroitly that nothing of a tangible nature could be fastened +on him. + +“Will you tell me how you knew, doctor?” + +“Through a process of elimination. I knew at first glance that your +concern over your physical condition was only a subterfuge. That +narrowed the range of speculation down considerably. In fact, it left +only one possible theory in regard to the object of your visit.” + +“Why only one? Isn’t it conceivable, for instance, that I came here to +see if your office contains anything worth stealing?” + +Doctor Latham shook his head. “You don’t look the part, Mr. Stone.” + +“Well, suppose I am an officer of the law and came here to see if you +are prescribing illegal amounts of intoxicating liquor or habit-forming +drugs?” + +“You didn’t go about it the right way.” + +“Couldn’t I be a long-lost friend or relative?” + +“I haven’t either. You came here for one specific purpose, Mr. Stone, +and I know what that purpose is.” + +Cole regarded him narrowly. “Knowledge sometimes implies guilt,” he +remarked in casual tones. + +“But not always. You think that, because I know the object of your +visit, I have guilty knowledge of a certain matter that you are +interested in. That’s a very loose inference, Mr. Stone.” + +Cole thought for a few moments. The other’s indirect frankness amazed +him, yet Doctor Latham was entirely too slippery to permit himself to +be pinned down to hard facts. + +“Each of us seems to have come to stalemate,” observed the physician +after a pause. “Shall we call the game a draw? Both of us have gained +something. You think you have verified a suspicion, while I have +learned to be on my guard against a new source of possible danger. Why +not leave well enough alone?” + +“It’s a good suggestion,” said Cole, smiling. “Thanks for a very +interesting half hour, doctor. Good day.” He bowed and moved toward the +door, but the doctor’s voice made him turn back. + +“Just one moment, Mr. Stone. I think you have forgotten something. My +fee is ten dollars. Ah, thank you!” + + + + + CHAPTER VII + + COLE RECEIVES A WARNING + + +He left the physician’s office a poorer, but a wiser, man. The half +hour had been well spent even though the interview had yielded little +in the way of tangible results. Cole had met an interesting personality +and come in contact with a fine-edged mind. The doctor, with his +subtleties and his evasions, had proven a fascinating character. His +depth and elusiveness carried a teasing appeal to Cole’s imagination. +Cole was not yet through with Doctor Latham. + +He walked to the corner, turned into a tobacconist’s shop, and bought +a package of cigarettes, then stood at the curb and smoked one, while +he glanced now and then at the physician’s house. The drab brownstone +façade seemed as mocking and tantalizing as the man who dwelt within. +It was as baffling and impenetrable as the doctor himself. Cole tried +to analyze his impressions, but it was a hard task. The physician had +admitted nothing except by implication. He had thrown out certain bold +hints, and then he had practically challenged Cole to make the most of +them. + +Cole did not like to draw hasty conclusions, but, after he had sifted +down his impressions, there remained in his mind a picture of a +polished and very artful rogue who performed his machinations with an +adroit touch and a high degree of finesse. The picture was blurred +in spots, and he had to use his imagination to touch up the obscure +parts. It was significant, however, that the surgeon’s make-up should +have exerted such a startling effect on Malcolm Reeves the night +before. Beyond doubt Reeves had thought that he recognized the man who +was responsible for his pitiful state. This proved inferentially Doctor +Latham was the man who—— + +But Cole did not like to deal in inferences. They were treacherous +things, as he had observed on numerous occasions. He must have more +facts before he began building up theories on the flimsy foundation +which Doctor Latham’s oily innuendos had created in his mind. Meanwhile +it was interesting to note that the clew which he had brought with him +from the circular table appeared to be a substantial one. He had not +convinced himself of Doctor Latham’s guilt, but he had at least found +a promising lead. Reluctantly, for his experience of the night before +still rankled, he was forced to admit that there was a modicum of truth +in what the spokesman had told him. + +He finished his cigarette and was about to turn away, but just then a +figure, rounding the opposite corner, claimed his attention. With a +little start he recognized Professor Carmody. Bending over a stout cane +the professor walked with a jerky gait and the plopping sound of shoes +several sizes too large. He wore a sun-bleached silk hat and, despite +the balmy autumn weather, a long overcoat covered his gaunt form. +Cole nodded in a knowing way as he saw the professor turn into Doctor +Latham’s house. + +Thoughtfully he walked away. His suspicions and speculations were +assuming tangible form. Professor Carmody’s visit to Latham’s house +in broad daylight suggested several things. Viewed in connection with +certain other circumstances, it hinted strongly at a bond of interest +between the two men. In view of what Cole already knew it seemed not +so very far-fetched to suppose that they were associates in some +enterprise that was more or less closely related to Malcolm Reeves’ +fate. That Carmody should openly call on the doctor seemed to indicate +that the conspirators felt that they had covered their tracks so +carefully that ordinary precautions could be thrown to the wind. + +Cole cut through a corner of the park, and gradually his perplexities +dissipated themselves in the soft autumnal haze that hung over the +greenery. He knew how to loaf as well as to work, and he possessed the +happy knack of forgetting his problems in contemplation of rippling +waters, or an azure sky. It was thus he conserved his energies and kept +in touch with the softer aspects of life. + +He rested for half an hour, and then he remembered he had a duty to +perform. It was not a pleasant task, but it must be done. Now that +he had learned something definite about Malcolm Reeves’ fate, it was +necessary that he should report progress to his clients. As he retraced +his steps across the park and turned north on Fifth Avenue he wondered +how much it would be advisable to tell. To go into details in regard +to his adventures of the previous night would be impossible, for Cole +himself did not know what they meant. + +Ascending the steps of a square-cornered house of gloomy aspect he rang +the doorbell. There was a tomblike air about the residence of Hector +Englebreth that gave Cole a chill each time he visited the house. Out +of deference to the whims of the invalid who occupied it the window +shades were nearly always lowered. Doors turned without the faintest +sound on well-oiled hinges. Heavy carpets muffled the footfalls of +inmates and visitors. The heavily shaded lamps threw a subdued light on +massive and somberly upholstered furniture that seemed to belong to a +remote past. + +A tight-lipped manservant ushered Cole into the library. Englebreth +was seated in a wheel chair before a desk of black walnut. Despite the +infirmity, which an acute case of inflammatory rheumatism had brought +him, his long and triangular face gave an impression of wiry strength. +His shoulders, as he sat hunched in the wheel chair, seemed uncommonly +broad. His face was bloodless; his short-cropped, upstanding hair was +almost white. Except when he spoke, the long, thin lips were tightly +compressed, making him look as though he were constantly exerting his +will power to hide the signs of his suffering. + +“Any news, Mr. Cole?” he inquired in a low, toneless voice. + +“I have made some progress,” replied Cole, also speaking in subdued +tones. In that dim, somber room it seemed natural to speak softly. “I +have reason to believe that your brother-in-law is still alive.” + +Englebreth had been tapping the desk with a pencil. Suddenly the +tapping stopped. He gazed fixedly at the detective. “How much reason?” +he asked. + +“I know it to be a fact,” said Cole, weighing his words, “that Mr. +Reeves was alive last night.” + +“So,” mumbled the other in tones scarcely above a whisper. “Professor +Carmody hasn’t done away with him, then. I feared that he might——” He +broke off, then raised his voice a little. “How do you know this, Mr. +Cole? How can you be so positive that my brother-in-law was alive last +night? You don’t mean to say that you have seen him?” + +The last sentence was spoken in tense and vibrant tones, so unlike +Englebreth’s usually colorless voice. + +“Before I answer that question,” said Cole, “I want to ask you one. +What makes you so positive that Professor Carmody has had a hand in +your brother-in-law’s disappearance?” + +“Have you learned something that has brought you to a contrary view?” + +“Please answer my question.” + +A scowl darkened Englebreth’s face. He resumed his slow tapping with +the pencil. “We know that my brother-in-law had frequent and secret +meetings with Carmody. We have established definitely that he had an +appointment with the professor on the night of his disappearance. +One of the servants in his house heard him make the appointment over +the telephone. You yourself learned, from the delicatessen keeper +across the street from Carmody’s place, that a man answering Malcolm’s +description entered the house on that particular night. Fairly +conclusive, I should say.” + +Cole eyed him levelly. “You are holding something back, Mr. Englebreth. +You have not stated your principal reason for suspecting Carmody in +connection with Mr. Reeves’ disappearance.” + +The tapping became a furious tattoo. “Why do you say that, sir?” + +Cole fumbled for words, then laughed. “I’ll be hanged if I know! It’s +nothing but a hunch. From the first I had a feeling that you were not +telling me all, but I admit I had no sound reason for thinking so.” + +Englebreth, seemingly mollified, smiled. “You detectives are suspicious +of everybody. I suppose that’s a part of your stock in trade. However, +I don’t mind admitting that, in this instance, you were partly right. +I have told you everything that can be of any help to you in your +search for Malcolm; yet there are certain trifling details that, for +private reasons and out of regard for the family, I have not confided +to you. You would not be interested in them, and they couldn’t be of +any possible use to you. It was because of these private and delicate +matters that I took the case to you instead of the police. Now will you +answer my question? Have you seen Malcolm?” + +“I have, Mr. Englebreth. I saw him last night.” + +“Where?” The invalid strained forward in his chair. “In Professor +Carmody’s house?” + +“No; I have not yet seen the inside of the professor’s residence.” + +“Then where did you see him?” The tapping had ceased again, and +Englebreth was waiting breathlessly for the answer. + +“That’s the queer part of it.” Cole gave a little baffled laugh. “I +have seen your brother-in-law, but I can’t tell you where.” + +“You can’t?” + +“Because I don’t know.” + +A threatening look crossed Englebreth’s face. “This is no occasion +for jests, Mr. Cole. Even if you have no feelings of your own in the +matter, you ought to respect the sentiments of other people. My wife is +deeply shocked over the uncertainty regarding her brother’s fate.” + +“Pardon me, Mr. Englebreth. I laughed, but it was only out of sheer +bewilderment. I had an experience last night that was so unbelievable +that I shan’t try to describe it. I feel dazed whenever I look back +upon it. All I can tell you is that I saw Mr. Reeves alive.” + +“And well?” questioned Englebreth sharply. + +“He seemed to have been through a trying experience.” + +“You are quibbling. I want the truth.” + +“Perhaps I shall be able to give it to you some time within the next +twenty-four hours. For the present I fear you will have to be satisfied +with what I have told you. My impressions of what I saw and heard last +night are not very clear. You will understand the reason when I give +you a full report.” + +“This is strange talk, Mr. Cole.” + +“Not half so strange as some of the things that happened to me last +night.” + +Englebreth sat erect in his chair, regarding the detective with a +piercing gaze. Evidently he was far from satisfied, and Cole could not +blame him. Silence fell between them; then a soft tinkling was heard. +Even the telephone seemed to utter its summons in whispers in that +house of subdued sounds. + +The invalid wheeled his chair a little closer to the desk and put the +receiver to his ear. A conversation ensued, and gradually Englebreth’s +face underwent a transformation. Cole could not interpret the new look +that came into his countenance, but he watched it in wonder. In a few +minutes the invalid hung up, and the puzzling expression left his face +as suddenly as it had come. He was smiling when he turned to Cole. + +“On the whole I find your report quite satisfactory,” he said in +conciliating tones. “I appreciate the difficulties you have to deal +with. Don’t mind me if I seem impatient. May I expect to hear from you +soon again?” + +“To-morrow, I hope.” Cole was still marveling at the change he had +witnessed in his client. He wondered whether the telephone conversation +had brought it about. From Englebreth’s part in it he had been unable +to make out its nature, but he imagined that his client had received +news of a startling kind. After an exchange of a few casual remarks he +got up and moved toward the door. + +“Just one thing more, Mr. Cole,” said Englebreth as he placed his hand +on the knob. “Please be careful.” + +“What?” Cole turned and looked back at the invalid. The tone, rather +than the words, had given him an odd sensation. Englebreth’s white face +was wreathed in smiles, but Cole sensed a hidden barb somewhere. + +“Just be careful,” said the invalid. “That’s all, Mr. Cole.” + +Cole went out, but echoes of Englebreth’s voice pursued him through +the door and out on the street. The words had sounded as though they +contained a veiled threat of some kind. What could he have meant? He +turned the question over in his mind, time and again. Was it possible +that Englebreth, in some strange and devious way, had learned of the +attempt that had been made to persuade Cole to betray his client? + +The theory seemed grossly improbable, but, as he walked along, he +could think of no other solution. The more he thought of it the more +likely it seemed that his client had, in some mysterious manner, got +an inkling of last night’s happenings. He remembered the agitation he +had shown at the telephone. And later, when he gave Cole that peculiar +warning, his voice had sounded as though he meant to convey a threat of +terrible punishment if the detective should go back on his duty. + +Cole had not walked far when his step began to lag. He paused at a +corner and glanced at his watch. He pursed his lips, then he scowled a +little, and a look of weighty responsibility came into his face. + +It was time to go home and feed Toots. + + + + + CHAPTER VIII + + THE UNKNOWN SEVEN + + +All evening Cole had felt a presentiment that his telephone was to +ring. When it finally did ring, shortly after eleven o’clock, he knew, +even before he lifted the receiver from the hook, that he was about to +receive a message from the mysterious seven. + +His “hello” was answered by the rich soprano voice of the woman who +called herself Miss Brown, but somehow it sounded different. The +frolicsome undertone, which he had noticed the previous evening, was +gone. In place of it there was a faint tremor that hinted of keen +anxiety. + +“I am calling from a public booth near Madison Square,” she told +him. “At exactly twelve o’clock I shall be waiting in my car, on the +southeast corner of Broadway and Twenty-third Street.” + +“I’ll be there,” said Cole firmly. During the late afternoon and +evening he had made up his mind that, if a summons should come from the +mysterious seven, he would obey it. + +“But be careful,” she went on, and the last word had an oddly familiar +sound in Cole’s ears. “An attempt will be made to follow you.” + +“I know,” said Cole lightly. “I’ve been watched ever since I went out +to dinner this evening. I believe somebody is looking up at my windows +this very moment. Have no fear. I’ll shake him off.” + +Again requesting him to be careful, Miss Brown rang off. For a moment, +after the connection had been severed, he stood smiling into the +transmitter. Then he stepped to the window and looked out into Gramercy +Park. The sky was partly overcast, and a haze of moonlight and shadows +hovered over the trees. Almost directly below his window stood a gaunt +individual whose eyes were slanting up at him beneath the brim of a +dark felt hat. + +Cole examined his pistol before he put it in his pocket, donned hat and +light overcoat, and went out. On the stoop he paused for a moment and +stuck a cigarette between his lips. Then he swung down the steps and +sauntered up to the watcher at the curb. + +“Pardon,” he said urbanely. “Could I trouble you for a match?” + +The watcher searched his vest pocket and handed him one. Cole caught +a full view of the fellow’s face as he kindled his cigarette. The man +was a stranger to him. Murmuring profuse thanks for the accommodation +Cole walked away. Twenty minutes later, after a devious journey by +foot, subway, and surface cars, he plunged into the traffic jam in the +theatrical district. For a little while he darted in and out among +surging streams of humanity. Then, certain that he had thrown the +pursuer off his tracks, he boarded a southbound car. A tower clock was +signaling the midnight hour just as he reached the appointed corner in +Madison Square. + +“You are very prompt,” observed Miss Brown, as he stepped into the +limousine in which his adventure had begun, exactly twenty-four hours +ago. “You are sure you haven’t been followed?” + +“Only a short distance.” Cole sat down beside her, having a weird +feeling that ages had passed since he last touched those cushions. “I +shook off the fellow quite easily.” + +The car was gliding swiftly toward the south, but soon it began to turn +and twist in all directions. The windows were shaded, and Cole could +only guess which way they were going. + +“You’re an audacious person,” murmured the girl. “After what happened +last night I wasn’t sure you would come with me a second time.” + +Cole smiled. “Audacious isn’t quite the word.” + +“No, I suppose not. You’re not the kind of man who indulges in foolish +bravado. Your decision to come with me to-night was the result of long +and careful thinking, after you left Doctor Latham’s office. Your +interview with the doctor convinced you that our acquaintance might +be worth cultivating, despite the rough treatment you were given last +night. Am I right?” + +“In the main. You know, then, that I called on Doctor Latham?” + +“Of course. You have been under constant surveillance since you left +our establishment early this morning.” + +“How flattering! But you puzzle me, Miss Brown. I have been conscious +of being watched only since dinner time.” + +She gave an amused laugh. “One is never conscious of our brand of +espionage. We have men on our staff who have reduced shadowing to a +fine art. They are not so easily shaken off as was the simpleton who +stood outside your windows this evening. By the way, Mr. Cole, aren’t +you harboring a little resentment against me for my part in last +night’s affair?” + +“Perhaps,” said Cole dryly, “but curiosity is a stronger motive than +resentment.” + +“You are not at all gallant. Lots of other men would have replied to +that question with a flowery compliment.” + +“They would have been fools. You would have secretly despised them for +it.” + +A little pause. “Thank you,” she whispered, but the words sounded so +faint that Cole was not sure he was expected to hear them. + +The car had ceased its zigzagging course and was traveling in a +straight line. Presently Miss Brown produced the scarf with which she +had covered his eyes the previous night. + +“I hope this is the last time I shall have to blindfold you,” she +murmured, as she folded the cloth into a bandage and covered the upper +portion of his face. “Perhaps the next time——” + +She did not finish the sentence. Just then the car stopped, and she +guided him across the sidewalk and up the stone steps. In a few moments +they were darting upward in the elevator. Again the wall opened at Miss +Brown’s touch on a hidden spring. As it closed behind them Cole had +a hazy feeling of being shut off from the world. They walked a short +distance down the corridor. Then a door opened, and once more he found +himself in the room with the circular table. The girl vanished, and a +voice bade him step forward. + +He walked up to the table. The masked men seated around it looked gray +and ghostly in the dusk. He scanned the veiled faces closely as his +eyes responded to the dim light. The black beard was not there; yet he +counted seven faces. Evidently the surgeon was not wearing his disguise +to-night. + +“Very glad to see you, Mr. Cole,” said a voice which he recognized. +“The fact that you have returned is additional proof that we were not +mistaken in you. Sit down.” + +Cole seated himself at the spokesman’s side. His ears were keyed to +catch any suspicious sound, while his eyes cautiously explored the dusk +about him. His right hand hung loosely over the side of the chair, but +it was ready to reach for his pistol at the slightest sign of danger. +He was far from certain in regard to the intentions of the seven men, +and he was determined not to be caught off his guard. + +“Perhaps it will give you some satisfaction to know,” the spokesman +went on, “that you sent one of our men to the hospital last night.” + +Cole smiled faintly as he recalled the fight in the dark. His knuckles +still showed bruises from the blows he had showered on his opponent +before he was overwhelmed by superior numbers. + +“He is a big, husky chap, and he knows how to put a lot of steam into +his punch,” the spokesman continued. “You pounded his face to a jelly. +I don’t think Sam will ever get over the humiliation. His mortification +ought to soften the bitterness you naturally feel toward us. By the +way, you called on Doctor Latham, as I suggested. Did the interview +prove satisfactory?” + +“It wasn’t conclusive,” said Cole guardedly. + +“We didn’t expect that. The doctor is too wily to permit himself to +be caught so easily. But didn’t your talk with him leave a strong +presumption of guilt in your mind?” + +“It convinced me that Doctor Latham knows something of what happened to +Mr. Reeves.” + +“And to that extent it modified your skepticism in regard to us?” + +“I am here,” said Cole with a shrug. “Isn’t that answer enough?” + +“It is. You wouldn’t have come back to-night unless something had +happened to counteract the bad impression which you derived from your +first visit. No doubt the balance is still against us, but you are +willing to listen to what we have to say. Will you pay close attention +while I state a hypothetical case?” + +“My ears are wide open.” + +“Very well, then. First let me state a general principle. It must have +occurred to you, Mr. Cole, that there is something radically wrong with +the enforcement of our laws and the administration of justice. The +jails are doing a thriving business, and many criminals are convicted +every day in the year. With rare exceptions, however, they are the +smaller fry. Too often the big rascals go unpunished, while the little +fellows get it in the neck. The agencies of law and order are often +powerless when dealing with criminals who perpetrate their malefactions +on a large scale. Are you with me so far?” + +“Go on,” said Cole. + +“The cause of this deplorable situation is obvious. The big rascal +evades the law and goes scot-free, while the little fellow breaks the +law and lands in jail. Or else the big rascal violates the law in such +a clever manner that conviction is impossible. He has the best legal +talent on his side. Brilliant and unscrupulous lawyers lie awake nights +scheming how a powerful client might commit crimes with impunity. Often +the big rogue has unlimited resources at his command. If he is in +danger of getting caught a substantial bribe frequently lets him out, +or he uses political or social influence to get clear of the danger. +True, isn’t it?” + +“Unfortunately it is,” said Cole, “but I don’t see what all this——” + +“Just a moment. I am getting to the point as fast as I can. You +must have noticed that the police and other agencies are seriously +handicapped in trying to cope with crime on a large scale. They are +hampered by a number of things, inefficiency, corruption, political +patronage, sometimes indifference on the part of the public. There are +many honest and capable men among them, but their number is too small. +Besides, the machinery of justice is too ponderous and cumbersome. In +its competition with crime it has the same handicap as a truck trying +to compete with a roadster. But that isn’t the worst of it.” + +“You’re painting a gloomy picture,” Cole observed. + +“But you know as well as I do that it is true to life. The most serious +phase of the situation is the fact that the law, in effect if not +in theory, is punitive rather than preventive. Our administrators +of justice are too often content with locking the stable after the +horse is gone. It may be a satisfaction to you, when your pocketbook +is stolen and the money squandered, to see the thief go to jail, but +it isn’t doing you any material good. It may be gratifying to you to +know that that particular thief won’t steal any more pocketbooks for a +while, but that isn’t going to compensate you for your loss. The time +to stop the crook is before the damage is done, and that’s exactly +where our police system falls down on the job.” + +“True enough,” Cole admitted. “But what are you going to do about it?” + +He fancied the spokesman was smiling, but he could not be sure. The +others at the table had not spoken a word. + +“There is the Carmody case, for instance,” the other went on, without +answering Cole’s question directly. “It shouldn’t be called that, for +the professor is only a puppet, a dwarf in comparison with the men who +are pulling the strings. You have barely scratched the surface of the +case, so, no doubt, you are amazed at what I say. The so-called Carmody +case is in reality one of the biggest swindles ever projected. It is +being engineered by a group of brilliant and very powerful men who have +enormous resources in brains and cash at the tips of their fingers. +They are working in the dark, with the utmost secrecy and astounding +cleverness. If the authorities at Washington knew what was going on, +there would be a panic all along Pennsylvania Avenue.” + +“Why doesn’t some one tell them?” + +The spokesman chuckled deprecatingly. “If I should go to them with the +story to-morrow they would demand proof, and I haven’t any. That is, +nothing that is tangible. I am positive of my facts, but proving them +is another matter. In a case like this the proof can’t be produced +until the damage is already done. Having no evidence, I should probably +be met with indifference or skepticism. Even if an investigation were +made, it would be purely perfunctory. The investigators would kick up +just enough dust to blind themselves and tip the conspirators off to +their danger.” + +“But, if things are as bad as you say, something should be done.” + +“Something is being done, Mr. Cole, and that brings me to the +hypothetical case I was about to state. Imagine a group of wealthy +and public-spirited citizens, men of brains, aggressiveness, and +imagination, who have banded themselves together for the purpose of +correcting the condition I have just described. Let us say they have +built up a small, compact and marvelously efficient organization, in +comparison with which the government’s ponderous machinery is like +the truck trying to out-distance the roadster. This organization, +unhampered by graft, political patronage, and red tape, and having +unlimited resources at its command, becomes the secret ally of the +police, the department of justice, and similar agencies. Its existence +is practically unknown to all but its own members. Like the criminal +whom it is endeavoring to combat, it works in the dark and silently. +This in itself gives it a tremendous advantage. You are beginning to +understand?” + +Cole nodded. + +“This organization has a corps of brilliant operatives, each one tested +and tried and found one hundred per cent honest and efficient. At its +head is an executive of exceptional ability. All the resources of the +organization are placed at his disposal. He is paid a salary so large +that it should render him immune to all sorts of corruption and amply +compensate him for the fact that his achievements never become known to +the outside world.” + +“For a time all goes well. Now and then the police, or the authorities +at Washington, receive a package from an anonymous source. They open +it and dazedly peruse the contents. It is evidence gathered by some of +the shrewdest detectives in the country and put into shape by the best +lawyers obtainable. It is so thoroughly prepared that it will stand +every legal test. All the authorities have to do is to hale the culprit +into court and read the evidence to the jury. In all cases but one the +verdict has been guilty.” + +“The exception,” the spokesman went on in gritty tones, “was due to +the dereliction of the executive at the head of the corps. Contrary to +expectations and despite all the incentives which he had for remaining +loyal to the organization, the man was corrupted by the other side. No +doubt he sold his honor for a fortune. At all events he disappeared, +and the case collapsed. It was necessary to find some one to take +his place. This time the men at the head of the organization were +determined to make no mistake. The next executive must be not only +efficient and fearless, but incorruptible as well. For once the leaders +decided to let the ends justify the means and go the limit in testing +their candidate. Well, they did go the limit. They tried him in acid, +and he assayed twenty-four carats.” + +Murmurs of approval went around the circle. Every face was leveled +intently in Cole’s direction. For several minutes he had anticipated +the trend of the spokesman’s remarks, yet he started a little at the +last sentence. + +“Now you understand,” the other continued. “For some time we have been +satisfied in regard to your ability. Our secret investigation left +us in no doubt on that point. Last night we learned that you could +resist three of the most powerful forms of temptation imaginable—fear, +greed, and a charming woman’s tears. And not only that, but you also +proved your superiority in a physical encounter, in addition to showing +presence of mind and quickness of wit in a most terrifying situation. +You scored one hundred per cent on every point. I am only sorry the +test had to be so severe.” + +Cole sat silent for a time; then he shook the spokesman’s outreached +hand. “It’s worth a lot to me to know that I am a twenty-four-carat +man,” he declared. + +“Then you accept?” + +Cole pondered while his glance swept the masked faces. + +“Who are you?” he asked. + +“We call ourselves The Unknown Seven. The name fits because nobody, not +even our best friends, know us in our capacity of secret allies of the +authorities. It’s possible you have seen some of us before.” + +He raised his arm, and each man at the table made a sudden motion +with his hand. In an instant the seven masks had been removed. Then a +glaring light shattered the dusk, and Cole looked in astonishment at +the unveiled faces. Several of them were familiar to him from pictures +that had appeared in the newspapers, in connection with weighty +national or municipal affairs. He blinked his eyes in bewilderment and +was about to say something when the door suddenly opened. + +Miss Brown entered in great haste. She was pale and breathless, and +Cole could see that something of a startling nature had happened. The +seven men rose and bowed as she came up to the table. + +“What is it?” asked the spokesman. + +For a moment the girl’s eyes rested on Cole’s face. There was a +mingling of questioning, suspicion, and reproach in them that +bewildered him. Then she turned to the spokesman. “The red light is +flashing on the indicator!” she breathlessly declared. “Some one is +coming up the elevator!” + +For a moment each man in the room stood rigidly still. Then came a +shuffling of feet and scraping of chairs. Now and then an ominous +mutter was heard. Then, with one accord, all glances turned +threateningly in the direction where Cole stood. + + + + + CHAPTER IX + + THE RED LIGHT + + +For a time no one in the room moved. Cole was both amused and puzzled +by the hostile glances leveled in his direction. The attitude of The +Unknown Seven had changed from friendliness to suspicion, with an +abruptness that was almost ludicrous. Miss Brown’s reference to a red +light seemed to have turned them against him in a twinkling. + +He could not understand. He looked at the spokesman as if expecting an +explanation. Now, with the lights on and the mask removed, Cole thought +there was something familiar about his face. It was hewn on rather +rough lines, suggestive of a man of great strength and determination. +The iron-gray hair curled a little. The mouth was firm and gave a trace +of harshness to the face. The eyes, arched by upslanting brows, were +clear and cold. + +Just now those eyes were gazing fixedly at Cole. There was the faintest +suspicion of a threat in them, he thought. He pondered for a moment, +arranged a few scattered recollections, and then the man’s name came to +him. He was Grover Carlin, a criminal lawyer of high standing and great +ability. Cole had once heard him make a masterly address to a jury. + +Only a few moments had passed since Miss Brown had made her breathless +announcement. Now one of the seven men sprang toward the door, and the +others followed. Cole and Carlin, walking side by side, brought up the +rear. The foremost of the procession opened a door across the hall, and +the others tumbled in after him. It was a large room, filled with desks +and filing cases, but the first thing that caught Cole’s eye was a +globe of glass in which a red light was flashing at intervals of a few +seconds. + +“What does it mean?” he asked Carlin. + +The lawyer gave him a sharp glance. “It means that a stranger is coming +up the elevator,” he announced shortly. + +“Why a stranger? Couldn’t it be one of your own men?” + +“No. When our own men enter the private elevator they always throw a +lever which prevents the light from flashing. The red light is a danger +signal. The elevator is an automatic one, and it is impossible for a +stranger to operate it unless he is acquainted with the mechanism. Our +visitor must have got the hang of it, somehow. Mr. Cole, you are the +only outsider who has been inside this establishment in weeks.” + +“Am I to infer that I am under suspicion?” + +“Well, it looks rather queer.” + +Smiling, Cole watched the flickering red in the glass globe. “But you +admitted yourself that I am a twenty-four-carat man.” + +The other nodded. “Yes, I know, but——” + +“Perhaps you suspect I arranged to have myself followed here this +evening?” + +“Such a thing is conceivable.” + +“But the rest isn’t very practicable. I never saw the elevator, much +less learned how to operate it. I was blindfolded both times I came up +in it.” + +“True, but you are a very clever man, Mr. Cole. Your performance of +last night proved that. And the fact remains that you are the only +stranger who has been inside this establishment in a long time.” + +The red flashes had ceased. Cole looked about him. Several of the men +were glowering at him, while Miss Brown regarded him with a look of +doubt and vague disappointment. + +“What about the former executive you mentioned, the man who betrayed +you?” he asked. “Isn’t it possible that he is up to deviltry of some +kind?” + +Carlin shook his head. “The mechanism has been changed since he left +us. Besides, he would know enough to turn the lever to prevent the +light from flashing. It will be interesting to see whether our visitor +knows how to operate the sliding panel in the wall. If he does, you +will presently see a green light in the indicator.” + +It was evident that the lawyer was trying to be fair and withhold +judgment, but Cole could see he was an object of grave doubt. The +others in the room were intently watching the indicator, but now and +then they glanced darkly at Cole. Several of them seemed loath to +suspect him, and among them was Miss Brown; but apparently they could +think of no other explanation for the mysterious intrusion than that he +had played false with them. + +Like the others he fell to watching the glass globe. The ceasing of +the red flashes seemed to indicate that the intruder had reached the +top floor. Perhaps at this very moment he was searching for the hidden +spring that controlled the panel in the wall. Cole felt a tingling +suspense as he waited to see whether a green light would appear in the +indicator. + +“What can the fellow hope to gain by coming here?” he asked Carlin. + +The lawyer gave him a searching glance, as if not quite sure that the +question had been asked sincerely. “A lot,” he said dryly. “There +are papers in our files, evidence in the form of memoranda and legal +documents, that certain parties would be willing to pay a great price +for.” + +“But doesn’t he realize that you won’t give them up without a fight?” + +“Usually only the watchmen are here as late as this.” The lawyer gave +Cole another dubious glance out of his cold eyes. “To-night and last +night we have been holding special sessions on your account. Probably +our unbidden visitor doesn’t know that. If he is hoping that he will +have only a couple of watchmen to deal with, there will be a surprise +waiting for him as soon as he gets through the wall, if he does get +through.” + +Evidently the intruder was having difficulties. For several minutes the +indicator had been blank, but the glances of those in the room were +drawn to it as to a magnet. + +Cole’s eyes traveled over the oddly assorted company. A few feet in +front of him stood a retired financier, a multimillionaire, who had +once been a power in Wall Street, and whose money was being used +unsparingly to fight corruption and vice. A little to one side was a +philanthropist whose annual benefactions mounted into eight figures. +Three or four of them were strangers to him, and among these was the +surgeon, whose tall figure Cole easily recognized despite the fact that +he had worn a disguise on the other occasions. + +His mind was active while he studied the faces about him. Would the +green light flash on the indicator? Who was the intruder, and was +Carlin right in the surmise that the documents in the filing cases +were the object of the mysterious visit? For a thief to sneak into an +establishment of this kind looked like a piece of foolhardy daring +to Cole. There were nine of them in the room, including Miss Brown +and himself, and no doubt agents and operatives of The Unknown Seven +were within calling distance. There was a lively tussle ahead of the +prowler, if he should succeed in getting through the wall. + +Ten minutes had passed since the red flashes stopped. Cole was +beginning to think that the intruder had met insuperable obstacles. +Perhaps he had in some manner learned how to operate the elevator, but +had failed to familiarize himself with the mechanism that controlled +the sliding panel in the wall. All the while, as these speculations ran +through Cole’s mind, he felt that Carlin was watching him out of the +tail of an eye. + +“Aren’t you a bit hasty in turning to me with your suspicions?” he +asked good-naturedly. “I may be a twenty-four-carat man, but I am not a +worker of miracles, and I’d have to be one in order to ferret out your +secrets on such short acquaintance. What about your hired agents?” + +“I trust them as I trust myself. They have been tested and found true.” + +Cole smiled engagingly. “Your experience with the renegade executive, +whom you told me about, should have warned you that tests aren’t always +conclusive. Human nature is about as uncertain as April weather.” + +Carlin gave an assenting nod, but the argument did not seem to +influence him greatly. + +“How will you dispose of the rascal if he gets through?” was Cole’s +next question. + +“That’s a problem. Our success so far has been due largely to the +secrecy with which we have surrounded ourselves. We have nothing to +fear, and no great harm would be done if we should be found out, but we +prefer to continue to work in the dark. So far our absconding executive +seems to have kept his mouth closed, for nothing has leaked out about +us. No doubt he is so busy spending his thirty pieces of silver that +he has no time for gabbling. Besides, the scoundrel has a wholesome +respect for us. He knows that The Unknown Seven has a long arm and a +sturdy fist. If this fellow,” with another glance at the indicator, +“should get through the wall, we shall have to take measures to protect +our privacy. If we find that he has the right stuff in him we may even +invite him to join us.” + +Another five minutes passed. Some in the group showed signs of +restiveness. One of them suggested going out and collaring the +prowler, but Carlin vetoed the idea, declaring it would be better to +give the fellow a chance to show his hand. + +The group resumed its silent waiting. A question occurred to Cole, one +that he had been on the point of asking when Miss Brown’s entrance +interrupted the conversation in the other room. + +“How is Mr. Reeves?” he inquired. + +Carlin waited for several moments before he answered. “There has been +no change in his condition in the past twenty-four hours,” he finally +announced. + +“He is still here?” + +The lawyer nodded. He did not seem very communicative on that subject. + +“You know, of course,” Cole went on, “that it isn’t in strict +accordance with the law for you to keep him here?” + +A thin smile twisted Carlin’s lips, but his only response was a shrug. + +“My duty to my clients gives me an interest in the matter,” Cole +pointed out. “You are keeping Mr. Reeves a prisoner.” + +“By no means. Mr. Reeves is our guest, and so far he has not voiced +any objections.” He gave a grim chuckle. “Furthermore he is infinitely +better off here than where we found him. He would probably have been +dead by this time if we hadn’t taken him away.” + +“From where?” + +The lawyer’s wintry gaze rested for an instant on his face. “From the +residence of Professor Carmody, as you probably either know or can +readily guess.” + +“You kidnaped him?” + +“Call it that if you like. We saved Mr. Reeves from certain death. +Professor Carmody is the only one who has cause for feeling aggrieved +at what we have done.” + +Cole nodded thoughtfully. He had kept Carmody under observation for +some time, and of late he had noticed a change in him. He understood +now why the professor had seemed excited and ill at ease the last few +days. His comings and goings had been more frequent and there had been +several signs of something unusual on foot about the house on Bleecker +Street. + +“So that you may feel quite reassured in the matter,” Carlin went on, +“let me tell you that Mr. Reeves is under excellent care. A specialist +is studying his condition, and there’s a chance, though a very remote +one, that he may recover his mental faculties, wholly or in part. If he +does, I fancy he will have a very entertaining story to tell.” + +He looked sharply at Cole just then, as if trying to measure the effect +of his words, but Cole’s face showed nothing but deep thought. He had +obtained a glimpse into the working methods of The Unknown Seven, and +he had found fresh proof of the efficiency and the resources of the +organization. A splitter of hairs might not have found its methods +strictly legal, but there was such a thing as the end justifying +the means. Quite likely Carlin was right in saying that Reeves had +been rescued from certain death at the hands of Professor Carmody. +Probably, too, a great deal more could be accomplished by this informal +course of procedure than by strict adherence to the letter of the law. +Cole was so deeply impressed that for the moment he forgot that he was +under suspicion. + +“If Reeves ever tells his story, I’d like to be there,” he declared. + +“You may have an opportunity to do so,” dryly remarked the lawyer. +“Until we have satisfied ourselves on one or two little points we shall +have to ask you to remain here as our guest. In the meantime——” + +A medley of mutters and hushed exclamations interrupted him. +Instinctively Cole glanced at the indicator. A tongue of green flame +was shooting up and down in the glass globe. Fascinated, he watched the +darting flashes. + +“Get back!” ordered Carlin, waving a hand at the men who stood huddled +into a knot before the indicator. In his other hand gleamed the barrel +of a pistol. Cole admired the ease and coolness with which he was +taking charge of the situation. Following the direction of his pointing +finger, the men crowded into a corner of the room. Miss Brown followed +them, and, as she crossed the floor, she gave Cole a glance that +stabbed within him. + +Carlin touched a button; the room went dark. Keeping Cole close at his +side he took up a position a few feet in front of the others. “I must +warn you not to move,” he whispered in Cole’s ear. + +“Have no fear,” Cole whispered back. “I’m as anxious to see this +through as you can possibly be.” + +The lawyer’s strategy was simple. If the intruder’s aim was to get +hold of some of the documents in the filing cases he would probably +come straight to this room. The fact that he had mastered the mechanism +of the elevator and the hidden door seemed to indicate that he was +fairly well familiar with the lay of the establishment. Evidently the +lawyer’s plan was to catch him red-handed and take him by surprise. + +Cole was conscious of a growing disquietude as he stood beside the +lawyer, looking in the direction of the door through which the intruder +must pass. He had a hazy feeling that Carlin’s plan was too simple, but +he could not tell exactly what was wrong with it. Not a sound was heard +in the room. The door had been left open a crack, and a narrow wedge of +light filtered in, but most of the room was an impenetrable blur. + +A minute passed. In vain Cole strained his ears to catch the sound of +approaching footsteps. His uneasiness grew, but he could not understand +why. As if his misgivings had been communicated to the lawyer, the +latter mumbled something under his breath. The moments flew, and still +no sound was heard in the corridor. Either the intruder’s footfalls +were thoroughly muffled, or else—— + +Cole did not finish the thought. A vagrant suspicion held his senses +spellbound. For a moment longer he listened for footfalls that did not +come, and then his vague apprehensions crystallized in a flash. He +gripped the lawyer’s arm so violently that Carlin gasped. + +“You were wrong!” he whispered hoarsely. “The fellow isn’t after any +papers. He came here to get Reeves.” + +Cole, with his hand tightly gripping Carlin’s arm, felt a sudden shock +shooting through the man at his side. In a twinkling the lawyer seemed +to have grasped his meaning. Now, muttering something, he sprang +forward. In an instant the lights were on again, and Carlin was running +toward the door. Cole followed, but in a moment the two men came to a +dead stop. + +A short, piercing cry sounded. It died abruptly, leaving a curious +emptiness in the air. The two men stared at each other, and Cole saw a +gray film creep over the lawyer’s face. + +“Too late!” he exclaimed. + + + + + CHAPTER X + + PURSUIT + + +The scream had ended with a certain grim abruptness that to the +listeners could mean only one thing. It had seemed to stop in the +middle; yet it had been punctuated with an ominous finality. It was as +if death itself had stepped in and placed an exclamation point after an +unfinished cry. + +Then came utter silence. It seemed as though every sound and every +breath of life had been sucked out of the air. Carlin, his lips drawn +apart at one side, looked fixedly at the door. His head, shoulders and +chest were straining forward; he appeared to be maintaining his balance +by sheer mental tension. A few moments passed, and then Cole shook +himself free of the insidious horror that attacks even the strongest. +Less than thirty seconds had elapsed since the cry sounded. + +“Where is he?” he asked, shaking the lawyer’s arm. + +“He?” Carlin seemed to be trying to shake off a spell. “Oh, Reeves, you +mean. Back there.” He pointed indefinitely toward the corridor. + +“Brace up, man!” Cole shouted. “Go to him. Maybe something can be done. +Hurry!” + +He bounded to the door and out in the hall. His words had voiced a hope +that he did not feel. The cry had told him only too eloquently that +Reeves was beyond help. But there might still be time to catch the +murderer, if he made haste. Heedless of Carlin’s belated shout to him +to stop, he hurried down the long and dimly-lighted corridor. Confused +cries and scurrying footfalls sounded behind him, signifying that the +others had come out of their temporary stupor. + +Cole shut his ears to the bedlam. All he saw and heard was a shadow +darting toward the end of the hall and a patter of swift feet. At the +farther end of the corridor, at the point where Miss Brown and himself +had entered the headquarters of The Unknown Seven, was an opening. He +came up to it just in time to see the fleeing shadow slip through. + +“Stop, or I’ll wing you!” he cried, jerking his pistol out of his hip +pocket, but the fugitive paid no heed. Crouching low, he ran with +zigzagging motions across the open space toward the elevator shaft. +Cole aimed low and pulled the trigger. The bullet thudded against the +flagged flooring, and through the smoke he saw the fugitive spring into +the cage. Already the door was clanking shut. He plunged forward and +kicked his foot into the opening, just in time to stop the sliding door +from closing. He caught a glimpse of a stiff felt hat, a sallow face +with a mocking grin, a lean and slightly hunchbacked figure, and then +the cage shot downward. + +Cole, standing with his right foot caught between the door and the +steel jamb, muttered a malediction, but it was aimed mostly at himself. +The little hunchback had eluded him with an agility that aroused his +admiration, even while it made him grit his teeth. He flung the +door wide open. Only a few moments had passed since the cage started +downward, and it had not got far. There was something tantalizing about +the swiftness with which it increased the distance between himself and +the fleeing man. + +For a moment Cole gauged his chances. He gazed at two sets of cables +that glided up and down inside the shaft. His next move would have +seemed foolhardy to an onlooker, but Cole had carefully measured the +risk. It was one of those tense moments in which the mind leaps quickly +to decisions. The time it took him to determine what to do was only a +matter of seconds. + +He flexed his muscles and then he leaped. For an instant his form +hurtled through space, then his hands closed tightly around the +downward gliding cable. He wound his legs about it and clamped it +between his feet. The swift descent made him feel as if he were sucking +ice-cold air into his lungs. The cage, some twenty-five or thirty feet +below, was dropping like a rock, but now Cole was following at an equal +rate of progress. + +Ten floors slipped past, then fifteen, finally twenty. Cole’s hands +were raw and bleeding. Hot and cold flashes were chasing up and down +his back. His lungs were straining, and a treacherous numbness was +creeping into his limbs. He looked down at the roof of the cage and +smiled. No doubt the fleeing man felt that his escape was already as +good as accomplished. + +The cage stopped so suddenly that the vibration of the cable almost +made Cole lose his hold. He slipped a little farther down, then +checked his descent opposite the level of the second floor. The shaft +was narrow, and he could easily reach the door with one hand, while he +clung to the cable with the other. Installed for private and secret +use the elevator equipment lacked several safety devices that would +have acted as a hindrance to Cole. As it was the door slid open easily. +Seizing the jamb with one hand he swung free of the cable and landed on +the floor. + +He felt a trifle dizzy, but the thrill of pursuit acted as a stimulant. +Just around the shaft was a stairway, and he hurried down. Only a few +moments ago a metallic clanking had signified that the fugitive was +getting out of the cage. As Cole reached the lower steps he saw a long +open space in front of him, and at its farther end he caught a glimpse +of the hunchback, slipping out through the door. His ears caught +the sound of throbbing motors, warning him that a car was waiting +outside to speed the fugitive to safety. Conscious of nothing but the +exhilaration of the hunter he bounded to the door and emerged on the +sidewalk, just as a tail light gave him a mocking wink and disappeared +around the corner. + +There was a fine mist in the air. On all sides the tops of the tall +office buildings reared their heads in a translucent haze. The streets, +which in the daytime swarmed with humanity, were now deserted. Cole +guessed that it must be about two o’clock, but he did not take time to +look at his watch. The taunt of the tail light egged him on. He threw +his head back and his chest out and broke into a sprint. Rounding the +corner at full speed he once more caught a glimpse of the jeering tail +light. But it was only a glimpse, for a moment later it was out of +sight. + +Cole tried to run faster, but he realized that, unless something +unforeseen happened, he was running a losing race. The car had the +advantage in speed and endurance. With scarcely a stop, save for the +possible interference of a traffic officer, it might travel all the way +from one end of Manhattan to the other. He kept up the pursuit only +because he hated to cry quits. Besides, as long as he could continue +the chase, there was always the possibility that chance might come to +his aid. + +Once more he caught sight of the tail light, this time quite a distance +ahead. Letting out the final ounce of energy he succeeded in quickening +his speed a little. He ran and ran, but his breathing became alarmingly +heavy. It would not be long before his wind gave out, but at least he +would have the satisfaction of knowing that he had done his best. His +gait was growing wabbly when the unexpected occurrence for which he had +been hoping came along. + +Not even a village street is quite so dead as is the financial section +of New York in the small hours. Skyscrapers, towering in a jungle of +silence and dim lights, give a majestic touch to a stillness that is +seldom broken, save by the footfalls of policemen and private watchmen. +To Cole, therefore, it seemed nothing but a stroke of luck that a +taxicab should come along at that moment. He hailed the driver. + +“See that car?” He pointed at the tail light twinkling in the distance. +“Can you overtake it?” + +“I’ll try,” said the chauffeur, peering at him from beneath the visor +of his cap. “This is a pretty good old boat, though she ain’t much on +looks. Good for a fine if I get pinched?” + +“Sure,” said Cole easily, though not altogether unmindful of the +slender roll in his pocket. He stepped in, and the cab jumped forward. +It rattled and lurched and creaked in the joints, as if in imminent +danger of falling to pieces, but he noticed with satisfaction that it +had a surprising capacity for speed. It swerved and slithered at a +giddy rate, at times almost jogging him out of his seat. + +Pursued and pursuer wound their way out of the maze of chopped-up and +tangled streets to the south of Washington Square. The car ahead swung +into Fifth Avenue, at a slightly reduced speed, and the taxicab slowed +down accordingly. From now on it was not only easier to keep up with +the larger car, but there was also less danger of the fugitive becoming +aware of pursuit, for, even at that hour, there was a sprinkling of +traffic on the avenue. + +It suddenly dawned on Cole that he was in a unique position. The +capture of the hunchback now seemed certain, but what was he to do with +the man after he had caught him? If he turned him over to the police, +which seemed the proper and regular thing to do, he would be compelled +to tell things which, in a sense, he was pledged not to reveal. Despite +all that had happened and notwithstanding the harsh treatment inflicted +on him, he had come away with a rather high opinion of The Unknown +Seven. They had trusted him, at least for a time, until the coming of +the hunchback turned their suspicions against him, and Cole was not +inclined to violate a trust. + +Now, that he came to think of it, there was really very little he could +tell, even if he were disposed to divulge what he knew. In a strict +sense he did not know that the hunchback had murdered Reeves. For +that matter he did not know that Reeves was dead. Though personally +convinced on both points he could not tell a convincing story to the +police, for he had neither witnessed the commission of the crime nor +seen Reeves’ dead body. + +Still another thought came to him as he bobbed up and down and from +side to side in the cab. He gave a short, dazed laugh. Even if he had +witnessed the deed and seen the body he would have been unable to +direct the police to the scene of the crime. His dizzying descent in +the elevator shaft had left him a trifle giddy. He had rushed away in +great haste, his whole mind fixed on the one idea that the hunchback +must not be permitted to get away. In his hurry he had given no thought +to the location of the building. He had strained every nerve and muscle +in his efforts to keep the car in sight, and there had been no time to +notice street signs. Like many a New Yorker, he had seldom had occasion +to visit the financial section, and many of the streets in that +district were nothing but names to him. + +Though there was ample extenuation, Cole chided himself for a +blunderer. He had missed his chance to learn where the headquarters +of The Unknown Seven was situated. The general boundaries of the +neighborhood were a shade more clearly defined in his mind, but he +knew scarcely more than he had known before. The rendezvous of the +organization could be in any one of half a hundred buildings. Even +if he should stumble upon the right one he doubted whether he would +recognize it. + +In the midst of his musings the cab stopped with a suddenness that +jerked him out of his seat. He glanced out and saw that the hunchback’s +car had halted two blocks ahead. They were somewhere in the Sixties, +and to the west were the black masses of the park. The hunchback was +getting out and turning down the side street, but car and driver were +proceeding north. + +A suspicion was dawning in Cole’s mind as he stepped out of the +taxicab. It was rather odd that the chase should have ended at this +particular point. He paid the chauffeur, adding a generous tip to the +fare. He hurried to the corner where the car had stopped and swung into +the side street, just in time to see the hunchback disappear in the +shadow of a house. Cole hastened after him, stopping before a dark and +somber house with a brownstone front. + +His hazy suspicion was confirmed. It was odd how the scattered pieces +of the mystery were beginning to dovetail. His pursuit of the hunchback +had led him to the house of Doctor Dickson Latham. + + + + + CHAPTER XI + + BEHIND THE LOCKED DOOR + + +The moon was shining through a silver-gray mist, giving the row of +buildings a shadowy appearance. A fresh fragrance drifted out from the +park, on the scarcely perceptible breeze. A milk cart rattled down the +block; otherwise the street was deserted. + +Cole peered sharply into the dark basement entrance. He suspected the +hunchback had entered the doctor’s house that way. Down the steps he +went and tried the knob, but the door was locked. The two windows on +each side were protected by iron bars. He hesitated for a moment, and +then he mounted the steps to the main entrance and rang the bell. There +seemed to be nothing else he could do, and the shifty-tongued doctor +interested him strangely. Latham’s evasions would be entertaining, if +nothing else. + +He waited patiently, for he had many things to consider. Just what +trend the forthcoming interview was to take he did not know. That +the hunchback should have taken refuge in the physician’s house was +significant, especially since there were good reasons for supposing +that Latham was responsible for the wrecking of Reeves’ mind. That he +had also instigated the murder of the maniac seemed only a reasonable +sequence of the first supposition. In this connection Professor +Carmody’s visit to the doctor’s house yesterday was a highly +interesting circumstance. Perhaps the two rogues had planned the murder +then. + +Cole rang again. At the same time he brushed all hasty inferences and +surmises from his mind. He came back to the point that, as far as hard +facts were concerned, he knew next to nothing. He did not even have a +good reason for placing the hunchback under arrest. If he turned the +fellow over to the police he would probably be only laughed at for his +trouble. The hunchback would brazen out of it, and Cole would not have +a leg to stand on. As for Doctor Latham—— + +He rang again more emphatically this time. Then he listened to the +queer noises which the reverberations stirred up within the dark house. +As for Doctor Latham, Cole could hope to do no more than draw the +doctor out by deftly aimed questions. It was scarcely to be expected +that such a slippery individual as Dickson Latham would betray himself, +yet something might come of the interview. The doctor might get +careless, or Cole might succeed in confusing him. + +Once more he reached for the button, but just then a step sounded in +the hall. The door came open. It was the doctor himself who admitted +his early caller. It was dark where they stood, and Cole could see +little else than a black beard and a long dressing gown, but he fancied +there were signs of repressed irritation about the doctor, as he +recognized his visitor. + +“Ah, it’s you, Mr. Stone. Please step in.” + +The voice was affable enough. Cole followed him through the hall, the +reception room, and into the physician’s office. When they faced each +other across the desk, Latham seemed to have recovered his usual ease +of manners. “Nerves again, Mr. Stone?” he asked pleasantly. + +“No; only a slight headache,” said Cole. + +“And you wish me to prescribe something?” + +“Yes, but it isn’t drugs I want. I came here hoping you would +cure my headache by removing the cause. I have an acute case of +flabbergastation.” + +Doctor Latham’s bearded lips parted in a thin flash of very white +teeth. Cole thought there was something Machiavellian about the smile. +The physician reached out an arm and passed a box of cigars across the +desk. A startled gleam flashed into Cole’s eyes. The movement of the +doctor’s arm had wrinkled the sleeve of the dressing gown and exposed +a narrow rim of the cuff of his pajama jacket. The cuff was pale blue, +and just above the rim was a stain. + +“I can recommend these perfectos,” said Latham genially. + +Cole, easily hiding his surprise, accepted one. The doctor struck a +match, and the stain became visible once more, as he helped Cole to a +light. It was a fresh blot of a dark tinge, probably not more than an +hour old. + +“What is it that flabbergasts you, Mr. Stone?” inquired the physician, +after each man had pulled appreciatively at his cigar. The question was +accompanied with a slight and seemingly casual glance at a door in the +rear of the office. + +The glance had not escaped Cole. He picked his words carefully. +“Fifteen or twenty minutes ago,” he began, “a man entered your house.” + +“Yes?” asked the physician in a toneless voice. + +“A hunchback,” Cole went on, guessing that the doctor had carefully +hidden the fellow, while Cole had been kept waiting outside the door. +“He entered your basement, unless I’m mistaken. Odd time for a call, +doctor.” + +“A physician, as you undoubtedly know, receives callers at all hours. +Nothing unusual in that.” + +“But you will admit that this fellow’s mode of entrance was rather +irregular? A physician’s patients do not usually sneak in the basement +way.” + +“Very true, but please come to the point, Mr. Stone. You must grant +that I have a right to receive visitors any way I choose, even through +the chimney, if it pleases my fancy. You tell me that a hunchback +entered my house by the basement door. I neither deny nor affirm it, +but, without wishing to seem rude, may I ask what it is to you?” + +“Suppose the fellow were a criminal?” + +“I never inquire into the moral character of my patients. Their +physical welfare is all that concerns me.” + +“But suppose this individual had committed a murder? You would not care +to harbor a murderer in your house, would you?” + +A slight flicker of uneasiness showed in the doctor’s eyes. “A +murderer? Aren’t you carrying your suppositions rather too far, Mr. +Stone?” + +Again he cast a sidelong glance at the inner door. Cole sensed a hidden +significance in the doctor’s attention to that door. It puzzled him +almost as much as did the stain on the cuff. He thought quickly, +estimating how much he stood to gain or lose by a direct attack. + +“I’m not supposing,” he declared bluntly. “I know there is a murderer +in your house.” + +“Oh!” The doctor’s tone was tense and very low. “Whom did he murder?” + +“Malcolm Reeves.” + +“Mal—Malcolm Reeves?” In an instant the physician had kicked back his +chair and was on his feet. With the cigar tightly clamped between his +bearded lips he stared hard at Cole. His eyes were bright as metal, but +there was a glint of grave concern in their depths. In that moment Cole +would have been ready to swear that Latham’s consternation was genuine. + +“Is Reeves dead?” asked the doctor hoarsely. + +Cole gave him a level glance. “He was murdered less than two hours ago, +and the murderer is in your house.” + +The physician stared for a moment longer. An indistinct mutter came +from his lips. Cole wondered whether his face was not pale under the +glossy black beard. Despite his bewilderment and his feeling that the +doctor’s emotions were sincere, he glowed inwardly with satisfaction. +At last Latham’s superb composure had been shattered; now he must +pursue his advantage before the doctor could rally his mental forces +and ply him with unanswerable questions. + +“Doctor Latham,” he asked quickly, “do you deny that there is a +hunchbacked fellow in the house?” + +The doctor sat down again. “I don’t feel called upon either to deny or +affirm it,” he declared. + +Cole leaned forward across the desk. “How did that stain get on your +cuff, doctor?” + +The physician’s arm was stretched out flat on the table, and Cole +pointed to the soiled cuff. Latham looked down; for an instant, as he +saw the blot, his eyes widened in astonishment. + +“Oh, that!” He shrugged his shoulders. “I had a simple surgical case +a while ago. It wasn’t serious enough to take to a hospital, so I +performed it in my own office.” + +“I didn’t know physicians ever performed operations in their pajamas. +No accounting for eccentricities, though. Will you do me a favor, +doctor?” + +“That depends. What is it?” + +Cole pointed carelessly to the door at which the doctor had been +covertly glancing from time to time. + +“I would like to see what is behind that door, if you don’t mind,” he +remarked languidly. + +Again a gleam of uneasiness crept into the doctor’s eyes. He regarded +Cole intently, as if trying to ferret out the reason for the request. +Cole, a thin smile on his lips, was puffing leisurely at his cigar. + +“Why?” demanded the doctor. + +“Just a fancy. You have no objection, I hope?” + +The doctor drew himself up. He sat stiffly erect in his chair. A mask +seemed to fall from his face. Dropping all pretense of geniality, his +features took on a threatening look. “I don’t care to humor your fancy, +Mr. Stone,” he declared coldly. + +With excessive care Cole ashed his cigar. Then he got up and, with a +slow, but firm, tread, walked toward the door in the rear. His fingers +closed around the knob. + +“Stop!” cried the doctor sharply. + +Cole turned and gave him an amused glance. + +“You are a detective, I suppose?” said Latham. + +“In a way,” admitted Cole modestly. + +“Have you a search warrant?” + +Cole shook his head. + +“Then I must regard you as a trespasser. Mr. Stone, the moment you open +that door you will be a dead man.” + +He reached into a pocket of his dressing gown. In the next instant a +small pistol glittered banefully in his hand. He raised it till Cole +could gaze straight into the muzzle. His eyes, as he looked ominously +at him, emitted the same cold, metallic gleam as the barrel of the +weapon. + +Cole gave him a long, searching look, and he was a keen judge of faces. +At the end of the inspection he shrugged. “Doctor Latham,” he said +evenly, “you haven’t the nerve to kill me.” He turned the knob and +walked in. + + + + + CHAPTER XII + + IN FOUR ROUNDS + + +In stony silence Doctor Latham watched the bold move. As Cole opened +the door, a diffident look came into his face. He toyed awkwardly with +the pistol, looked dubiously at the barrel, finally put the weapon back +in his pocket. “It seems you win this round,” he muttered. + +The room which Cole had entered was dark. His hand fumbled along the +wall till he found a knob. At his pressure a light appeared, and it +revealed a man sprawled out in a chair. Except that the coat had been +removed he was fully dressed, and it seemed to Cole that he was sound +asleep. + +He recognized the sallow face of the hunchback, having caught a brief +glimpse of it just as the elevator started. It was not a pleasant face. +The twisted lips looked as though the teeth had been bared in a snarl +just before the man fell asleep. Cole thought he might be a thug or +professional gunman. He looked away and saw Latham in the doorway. + +“You’re a cool one,” murmured the physician, a trace of admiration in +his tone. “Didn’t you know I was ready to shoot you?” + +“You didn’t,” was the laconic answer. + +Latham came closer. He was once more suave and genial. Cole fancied +his astute brain was at work on a scheme of some sort. “Have you seen +enough to repay you for the risk you took?” he inquired. “Is this the +man you are looking for?” + +Cole nodded. “He’s the one who murdered Reeves. Tough-looking customer! +What have you done to him, doctor?” + +The Machiavellian smile came back. “He was in a bad way. I had to give +him a hypodermic. That’s why his crime, if he committed one, doesn’t +seem to weigh very heavily on his conscience. What are your intentions +in regard to my patient, Mr. Stone?” + +Cole stepped closer to the recumbent man. The fellow looked indeed as +though he were deep in drug-induced sleep. Cole raised the arm nearest +him and turned back the shirt sleeve. A little below the elbow there +was a small puncture. He dropped the limp arm and turned away. His +head was full of perplexities and contradictions. A little while ago +certain phases of the mystery had seemed to dovetail to perfection, but +now things were taking an incongruous turn. He felt the physician was +inwardly laughing at his bewilderment. + +“Well, Mr. Stone?” he inquired softly. + +Cole was in a quandary, but he tried hard not to show it. For the +present the wily doctor had several strategical advantages, and +evidently he knew how to use them. It would not be easy to take the +unconscious man away. Even if it could be done, Cole would not know +where to take him. On the other hand, it would not do to let him get +away, as he undoubtedly would as soon as he recovered from the effects +of the drug. + +“This man is my patient,” continued the doctor, “and I strongly advise +against disturbing him for the present. I believe a physician’s advice +is usually heeded in such cases.” + +“Your patient seemed to be in excellent health a little while ago,” +observed Cole. + +“Really, you must permit me to be the judge as to his physical +condition.” + +Cole eyed him levelly. “You are a very clever man, Doctor Latham. I +believe you deliberately drugged this so-called patient of yours so +that he couldn’t be removed. It was a fairly ingenious stroke.” + +Latham gave him a curious glance. “That’s a very odd way of looking at +the situation,” he remarked thoughtfully. “I wonder if you aren’t a bit +disingenuous. However, it doesn’t matter. This seems to be my round.” + +His faintly gloating tone nettled Cole. As far as he could see he was +outmaneuvered on every point. Hopeless as the situation seemed to be, +he was determined not to leave the house a defeated man. He rekindled +his cigar, then gazed with mild reproach at the glowing tip. A cigar +never gave him the mental stimulus that he derived from his musty +old pipe at home. Besides, the doctor’s slyly amused glances were +disconcerting. Cole’s thoughts would not travel in a straight line, +and he grew more uncomfortable as he noticed that his helplessness was +beginning to impress the doctor as queer. + +He turned, placed the half-smoked cigar on a tray, and glanced through +the open door leading into the office. The nickel trimmings of a +telephone gleamed under the electric drop light over the desk. The +sight of the instrument seemed to give Cole an idea. Deliberately he +walked into the other room and picked up the directory. + +“May I ask what you intend doing?” inquired the physician, following +him. + +“I know a doctor who lives not far from here,” said Cole absently, +while he hastily turned the pages of the book. “I’m going to call him +in for a consultation over your patient. If the fellow is in a bad way, +two doctors are better than one. If there’s nothing wrong with him, I +want to know it. Ah!” his index finger halted in the center of a page. +“Plaza 28826.” + +A faint mutter of dismay escaped the doctor. He stood at Cole’s back, +while the detective put the receiver to his ear. + +“A consultation is quite unnecessary, I assure you,” declared Latham. + +Cole grinned into the transmitter. He suspected Latham would agree to +bring his “patient” back to consciousness rather than have another +physician called in. A thousand slight murmurs sounded on the wire, and +then came the operator’s brisk “Number, please.” + +Cole spoke the number distinctly. He expected Latham would yield rather +than suffer a blow to his professional reputation, but the physician’s +cunning rendered the matter uncertain. And, even if his ruse succeeded, +Cole would score only a temporary advantage. He was not yet sure what +his next move was to be. While waiting for the connection he glanced +over his shoulder. Latham, hands clasped at his back, was walking back +and forth. + +Suddenly Cole’s face went blank. A jarring noise sounded in his ears. +In the next instant he knew he was holding a dead instrument in his +hand. All sounds had abruptly ceased. He heard Latham’s triumphant +chuckle as he hung up the receiver. + +“It appears the third round is also mine,” murmured Latham, his bearded +lips parting in a gratified smile. In his right hand he held a pair of +steel nippers. + +Cole gritted his teeth, but smiled complacently. “I would call it a +draw,” he said. “Your act of cutting the wire was a confession, doctor; +a confession that you are up to deviltry. I knew it all along, of +course, but I’m glad you showed your hand so plainly. It’s an advantage +to me to know that you have something to fear.” + +“I hope you derive a lot of satisfaction from it,” declared Latham +easily. “I fail to see how it is going to do you any practical good, +though.” + +Cole himself was not quite clear on that point. It was a moral +advantage rather than a physical one. He gazed steadily at the +physician, studying the triangular outlines of the black, neatly +trimmed beard. It was a bit tantalizing to consider how many shifting +expressions that glossy appendage might conceal. It acted as a mask, +and he was permitted to see through it only when the bearded lips +parted in a flash of teeth. Just now the face told him nothing. It +merely gave him an impression of a man of unfathomable secrets and a +deeply plotting mind. Cole felt at once baffled and fascinated. + +“I am curious to know what you will try next,” said Latham after a long +pause. “I don’t want to seem inhospitable, but I’m getting deucedly +sleepy.” He yawned ostentatiously. “If you have nothing further to +propose——” He looked significantly at the door. + +Cole considered for a moment longer, then he selected the most +comfortable chair in the room and sat down. With a languid air he +stretched out his legs and leaned back. “I am worried about your +patient,” he declared, with a sly wink at the room in the rear. “If you +have no objection, I’ll hang around till he comes to. This is a very +comfortable chair. Could I trouble you for another of those excellent +cigars?” + +The doctor stood in front of him, and Cole fancied there was a frown +beneath the beard. “You are going too far,” said Latham severely. +“Suppose I should throw you out?” + +“That would be very rude, doctor. Besides, it couldn’t be done.” + +Latham came a step closer. Slowly his crafty eyes moved up and down +Cole’s figure. Evidently he concluded that the languid appearance of +the man in the chair was deceptive. + +“I might summon help,” he suggested. + +“You might, but I hardly think you will. Being a prudent man, you +realize it wouldn’t do to stir up things. It’s far preferable, from +your point of view, to confine this interview to ourselves. What about +another of those cigars, doctor?” + +Latham did not move. His eyelids narrowed a trifle as he continued to +gaze at Cole. “You puzzle me,” he declared. “You come here representing +yourself to be a detective, but your conduct is very peculiar. You say +the hunchback in the other room is a murderer, but you have made no +move toward arresting him.” + +“I am naturally lazy,” confessed Cole blandly, “and it would be too +much of an exertion to carry the fellow out of here on my back.” + +“Have you a warrant for his arrest?” + +“None is needed,” said Cole easily, though he perceived that the +conversation was taking a dangerous turn. “It is enough that I have +reasonable cause for believing that the man has committed a felony.” + +His tone faltered slightly on the word “reasonable.” In his imagination +he could picture the faces of the police officials, if he should +undertake to tell them what had happened. + +Latham continued his piercing scrutiny for a few moments longer. “You +looked to me like an impostor,” he declared. “I’ll wager you haven’t +even so much as a pair of handcuffs on your person.” + +Cole jerked himself up straight in the chair. His twinkling eyes +bespoke an inspiration. From his pocket he drew a small pair of steel +links. “Small, but substantial,” he said musingly. “A friend gave them +to me once. I have so little use for them that I wouldn’t carry them +around except for the fact that they are so light and take so little +space in the pocket. Once, in an unexpected pinch, they proved handy, +and I have been carrying them ever since.” + +He got up and briskly walked into the room in the rear. A muffled +exclamation escaped the doctor, as Cole fastened one of the links +around the hunchback’s wrist. Then, with surprising ease, he lifted the +man out of the chair and carried him to an operating table in a corner +of the room. + +“What are you doing?” inquired Latham sharply, too amazed at Cole’s +conduct to be able to interfere. + +A short laugh was Cole’s only answer. He stretched the unconscious man +out on the operating table. + +“Are you crazy?” spluttered the doctor. “What——” He stopped short as he +saw Cole’s intention, but now it was too late to act. Cole had placed +the limp figure in such a way that the arm, from which the steel links +dangled, was hanging down along the side of the table. In a twinkling +he had fastened the other link around one of the iron legs. The +unconscious man was now securely chained to the table. + +Cole turned and regarded the physician with a good-humored expression. +“My round, and it’s as good as a knock-out,” he observed. + +Latham stared dumfoundedly. He saw what had happened, but he appeared +at a loss to grasp the meaning of it. “What do you hope to gain by such +tomfoolery?” he demanded. + +“A lot,” said Cole softly. “Your patient can’t get away unless he +takes the table with him, and that would attract attention. A fleeing +murderer is under quite a handicap when he is chained to an operating +table. I notice it is all iron and strongly built. The legs are +soldered to the top, so it won’t be easy to take it apart. A skilled +craftsman could do it, but I believe you have a strong aversion against +calling in outsiders.” + +The cold gleam in Latham’s eyes told that he understood. His gaze was +fixed in a speculative way on the two steel links. + +“They could be filed off,” admitted Cole, guessing his thoughts, “but +it would take a long time to get through the chilled steel of which +they are made. An expert might be able to unlock them, but there again +you are hampered by your prejudice against outsiders. You can’t slip +the link off the iron leg, for the braces down below prevent that. +Barring accidents, I think my man will stay here till I’m ready to come +and get him.” + +Doctor Latham seemed a trifle dazed. He ran his fingers awkwardly +through his beard while looking bewilderedly at Cole. “You are an +astounding person,” he declared. + +“You are another, doctor.” Cole smiled engagingly. “Sorry to have +interrupted your night’s rest. Are you going to charge me for this +visit? I believe it was ten dollars last time.” + +“Go to blazes!” said Doctor Latham. He stood motionless beside the +unconscious man, while Cole walked out of the room. + + + + + CHAPTER XIII + + THE MORNING’S MAIL + + +Just as the clock struck eleven, the following morning, Kingdon Cole +emerged in a tingle and glow from his cold shower. He had retired +shortly before dawn, so he had considered himself entitled to sleep +till a late hour, and now he felt the exuberant strength and freshness +that make a man eager for work. + +He stepped to the window, raised the shade, and looked out upon a gray +and drizzly world. He scowled a little. Like all highly sensitized +persons, he was easily susceptible to the weather. When the sky was +clouded, his face was apt to wear a frown. When the sun shone, his face +shone with it. A glance in the evening at the weather forecast could +have told him what mood he was to be in the next day, granting that +weather predictions were always accurate. + +He turned from the window as Toots, with a plaintive “meow,” rubbed her +curled back against his leg. “Hungry?” inquired Cole, looking at the +cat with an expression of grave responsibility. + +Toots held her tail erect and seemed to think the question wholly +superfluous. With a dutiful air Cole brought in the milk bottle, also +two letters which he found outside his door. After a glance at the +handwriting he tossed them on the table and proceeded to appease Toots’ +hunger. He went about it with all the awkwardness of an overgrown boy, +spilling a part of the milk beside the saucer, then stood aside and +watched Toots lick it up. + +Over his coffee and toast, a few minutes later, he started to read +his mail. One of the letters was addressed in a strange feminine +handwriting, and he opened it first. He suddenly stopped eating and +took in the contents at a glance. The note read: + +“Come back. I trust you. +Miss B.+” + +Beneath the signature was a row of X’s. Cole counted seven of them; +they were the insignia of The Unknown Seven, of course. It was +gratifying to know that the mysterious Miss Brown still had faith in +him, despite the suspicions of the other members of the organization, +but her frankness puzzled him. If the others thought him guilty of +duplicity, why did she not think likewise? She had seen and heard +precisely the same things that the others had seen and heard. As far as +he knew, she had no facts on which her favorable opinion of him could +have been based. What, then, was the reason for her attitude? + +“Woman’s intuition, I suppose,” mused Cole with a glance at Toots. +“That probably accounts for it. But how does the charming Miss Brown +expect me to find my way back to the headquarters of The Unknown Seven? +To locate the building would be about as ticklish a job as finding +a needle in a haystack. I don’t see why she—— Yes, I do! She has +naturally taken it for granted that I had sense enough to make a mental +note of the street and number when I made my hasty exit last night. She +doesn’t know what a half-cocked idiot I am. Shucks!” + +Cole made a wry face. Somehow he must manage to find the headquarters +of The Unknown Seven. Unless he answered Miss Brown’s summons, she +would naturally suppose that her faith in him had been misplaced and +that he was remaining away because of a sense of guilt. Cole resolved +he would canvass every block in lower Manhattan before permitting such +a thing to happen. How to go about it was another matter, however. A +systematic search would eventually lead him to the building, but that +would mean a waste of valuable time. He must find the headquarters +of The Unknown Seven without delay, not only because Miss Brown had +faith in him, but also for the more practical reason that he would not +know what to do with the hunchback until he had positive knowledge of +Malcolm Reeves’ death. + +He had no fear that his prisoner would escape from Doctor Latham’s +house. He had left the hunchback in a predicament from which the +astute physician would not be able to release him without a great deal +of difficulty; but Cole did not depend on that alone. Tony Pinto, a +ragged urchin whose habitat was the picturesquely squalid section +around Chatham Square, was watching the doctor’s residence. Cole, who +had earned the lad’s everlasting gratitude by once doing him a small +service, had instructed him to keep a sharp eye on the place. Tony +had the wits of a fox and the legs of a deer, and a great ambition +to become a detective. If an attempt should be made to spirit the +hunchback away, Tony would find it out and report to Cole instantly. + +Finishing his breakfast he lighted his pipe and composed himself +for hard thinking. The tobacco smoke grew so thick in the room that +Toots blinked at him reproachfully. Suddenly an idea came to him. He +recalled having heard Grover Carlin say that a number of the members +of The Unknown Seven had offices in the building. Cole had recognized +several of the members, the previous evening, from photographs that had +appeared from time to time in the newspapers, in connection with their +social and financial activities. Right here was a clew to the location +of the headquarters. + +He picked up the telephone directory and found the name of Vincent +de Witte, one of the men whom he had recognized. He glanced at the +financier’s office address, and he saw his clew slipping out of his +fingers. The address was somewhere in Union Square, much too far north +to be anywhere near the building he was searching for. Next he looked +up the address of Stephen Aldrich, but with no more success. The +philanthropist’s offices, according to the directory, were in the Times +Square district. + +Cole tried two other names, then tossed the book away in disgust. +It came to him that men like De Witte and Aldrich were engaged in +multifarious enterprises and probably had two or more suites of +offices in different sections of the city. Likely as not the business +enterprises which they were conducting in the headquarters building +were under corporate names, not generally known to the public. It was +not to be expected that men so shrewd as The Unknown Seven had proven +themselves to be would leave even the remotest clew to the location of +their rendezvous. Cole saw he must try something else. + +He gazed hard into the monkey’s face graven into the bowl of his pipe. +What with the drizzle outside and the chaotic condition of his mind, +he scowled into the tobacco haze that surrounded him. Why the deuce +hadn’t Miss Brown telephoned him instead of mailing him a letter? +Why was it that women of her type were so prone either to underrate +or overrate the intelligence of the sterner sex? They never accepted +men at their true valuation, but their opinions were always colored +by bias of one kind or another. Cole squinted at Toots while these +thoughts ran through his mind. He had a distinct impression that that +dainty specimen of femininity always regarded him with a sort of lofty +tolerance. Miss Brown, on the other hand—— + +Suddenly he remembered the other letter. At first glance he had +recognized the cramped hand of Hector Englebreth’s secretary. He +snipped off the margin of the envelope. Without doubt the letter +contained a sharp reminder that Cole had promised to give his client a +supplementary report on the condition of Malcolm Reeves. He anticipated +a crisply phrased note as he drew out the inclosure. Then a surprise +came to him. The envelope contained not only a letter, but a check +besides. It was for a generous amount. Evidently his client had sent +him something on account. Thoughtful of Englebreth! Cole put the check +aside and glanced at the note, and then he received a second surprise. +He read: + +“+Dear Sir+: Mr. Englebreth desires me to notify you that he no longer +requires your services. Inclosed please find check for services +rendered to date.” + +Cole stared hard at the few typewritten lines. The stiffly worded +communication was signed by Hector Englebreth’s secretary. The prim +type and the severe plainness of the engraved name and address in the +upper left-hand corner seemed to convey a breath of the heavy, tomblike +atmosphere that pervaded the Englebreth house. + +He chuckled lightly as he flung the letter aside. It was not the first +time that his independent conduct had lost him a client, and the fact +that he was now cut off from all official contact with the Reeves +mystery did not worry him in the least. There was nothing to prevent +him from attacking the problem on his own account. The curt dismissal +puzzled him, however. He wondered what he had done to displease +Englebreth. His client’s warning, spoken just as Cole was leaving the +somber old house the other day, flashed across his mind. + +“Be careful,” Englebreth had said. + +The words had had a cryptic sound. Cole had wondered at their meaning +then, and he wondered now. Had Englebreth dismissed him because of +his failure to heed a warning which he had not understood? Once +before it had occurred to him that perhaps his client had learned, +in some mysterious manner, of his relations with The Unknown Seven. +Was that what had been in Englebreth’s mind when he uttered that +strange warning? Did his client suspect that Cole was betraying him by +conducting secret negotiations with an enemy? The idea did not seem +very plausible, but he could think of no other solution. On the whole +he felt Englebreth had treated him rather shabbily. He had worked +hard and loyally on the case. The abrupt dismissal was, in reality, a +reflection on his honesty. In his resentment he resolved to demand an +explanation of his former client. + +He glanced dubiously at the telephone, recalling that on several +occasions Englebreth had expressed a dislike to holding conversations +over the wire, and he decided that an interview, face to face, would be +more satisfactory. He poured out another saucerful of milk for Toots, +and half an hour later he was ringing the doorbell of the Englebreth +house on Fifth Avenue. + +The drizzle and the leaden sky conferred an added touch of melancholy +upon the dismal mansion. The chill, which he always felt on entering +the house, had a keener edge this time. The rooms, with the window +shades lowered as always, seemed darker and more oppressively silent +than usual. The manservant who admitted him regarded him with an air of +thinly veiled suspicion. + +“I’ll see if Mr. Englebreth is at home, sir,” he announced. His feet +made no sound as he crossed the thickly carpeted floor and passed +through a door that turned silently on its hinges. In a few moments he +was back. “Mr. Englebreth is not at home,” he declared, dropping the +habitual “sir.” + +Cole got up from his chair and gave the servant a playful poke in the +ribs. It was a grotesque piece of levity in that house of frigid +dignity, but he could not resist the temptation. + +“You’re a cheerful liar,” he told the man. Then, while the servant +gaped after him in a scandalized way, he strode to the door of the +library and pushed it open. In his wheel chair, beside the black walnut +table, sat Hector Englebreth. A faint color tinged his white face as he +saw the detective. + +“Good morning, Mr. Englebreth,” said Cole genially, and he drew up +a chair and sat down. “I know that ‘not at home’ is a polite way of +saying ‘get out,’ and so I walked right in. Hope you don’t mind.” + +Englebreth leaned forward in the chair and scowled forbiddingly. His +long white fingers beat a restless tattoo on the table. “Why have you +come?” he demanded. “Did you not receive my letter?” + +“I did, and the check, too. Many thanks. The check was quite +satisfactory, but the letter left too many things unsaid. I am here to +ask you why I am being fired off the job.” + +Englebreth glanced meaningly at the door. Instead of the long dressing +gown which he usually wore, he was dressed in a suit of plain gray. + +“I shall be going out in a few minutes,” he declared stiffly. + +“It won’t take you long to answer my question. Don’t you think I am +entitled to an explanation?” + +“Of course, if you insist. I instructed my secretary to write you after +I had consulted my wife about the matter. Since it is her brother’s +life that is at stake, she is more vitally concerned than I am, so I +thought it only proper that she should have her say. After I had placed +certain facts before her, she agreed with me that your usefulness to us +is past.” + +“Certain facts? What were they?” + +“I think you know,” said Englebreth in a hard, dry tone. His deep-set +eyes, oddly brilliant in contrast to his pale face, regarded Cole +accusingly. “I am disappointed in you, Mr. Cole. You impressed me as an +upright, honest man, and I had hoped for better things from you. One of +the harshest experiences in life is the discovery that one has placed +his trust in a person who isn’t worthy of it.” + +Cole’s face hardened, and there was an ominous gleam in his eye. “I +think you had better explain that statement, Mr. Englebreth,” he said +with slow emphasis. + +Englebreth shrugged. “You are not candid with me. You know quite well +what I mean, so why pretend? For instance, can you look me straight in +the eyes and tell me that you gave a full and truthful report when you +were here the other day?” + +“It was truthful,” said Cole, “and as complete as I could make it under +the circumstances. If I did not tell quite all I knew, it was because I +was uncertain in regard to some of the facts.” + +A wraith of a smile twisted Englebreth’s thin lips. “And what about the +warning I gave you? I hoped it would serve as a hint that I was aware +of certain mysterious movements on your part. Why did you disregard it?” + +A long silence ensued. Each man gazed sharply into the other’s eyes. +There was a glint of steel in Cole’s, a look of stern reproach in +Englebreth’s. + +“Well?” said the invalid. The pale, mirthless smile was still hovering +about his lips. “What have you to say, Mr. Cole?” + +“You have been spying on me evidently?” + +“You are using an unpleasant word. I have merely verified certain +suspicions that concern you. I have also discovered certain facts which +you have seen fit to conceal from me, facts which have a direct bearing +on the fate of my brother-in-law. I don’t think there is anything +further to be said.” + +Cole got up. He could not understand where, or by what means, the +invalid had obtained his information, but it was evident that +Englebreth’s mind was made up, and that no amount of argument could +make him change his views. + +“You are wrong, Mr. Englebreth,” he said evenly. “A lot of queer things +have happened, things I don’t understand myself. But, believe it or +not, I have played fair with you from beginning to end. Some time +before long I hope to prove it to you.” + +“Indeed!” said Englebreth. “I am sure it will be interesting.” + +His tone and the smile that accompanied the words made Cole +instinctively clench his fists. Then he turned away, before his anger +should get the better of him, and hurried from the house. Out in the +drizzle and under the gray sky he shook off his resentment and laughed +at himself. It was ridiculous that a peevish old invalid should make +him lose his temper. Some day, when he had probed the Reeves affair to +the bottom, he would make Englebreth eat his words. Just now he had +more important things to consider than the aspersions of an infirm old +man. + +He crossed the street and was about to board a bus when he chanced +to look back and saw a large car draw up in front of the house. A +moment later the massive front door opened, and two servants appeared, +carrying Englebreth between them. They assisted him into the car, and +Cole gazed speculatively after the vehicle, as it glided away down +Fifth Avenue. It was a rare thing for Englebreth to venture beyond +the gloomy confines of his house, and Cole wondered where he might +be going. Perhaps he was about to get into touch with his mysterious +source of information. In that case Cole might learn a great deal by +following him. + +“Taxi, sir,” said a voice, and a cab slowed down at the corner where he +stood. Cole’s hesitation lasted only a moment longer. + +“Follow that green car over there,” he directed. The chauffeur nodded, +and Cole jumped in. The pursuit proved long and devious; again and +again Cole chided himself for wasting valuable time. Then the green car +stopped in front of an office building, and the chauffeur went inside. +Cole dismissed the taxi and took up a position across the street. From +where he stood he could catch an occasional glimpse of Englebreth +through the partly shaded window of the car. + +“Guess I’m chasing a wild goose,” he glumly told himself. + +Englebreth’s chauffeur reappeared, accompanied by another man, and +the two lifted the invalid from the car and carried him inside the +building. Slowly Cole started to cross the street. The man assisting +the chauffeur seemed to carry his part of the burden awkwardly, and +Cole could hear the infirm man’s peevish protests. The two men entered +an elevator with their load, and the cage started upward, just as Cole +stepped inside the building. + +A strange, unaccountable feeling came over him as he gazed after the +disappearing lift. He was conscious of a faint tingling from head +to foot. With an abstracted look in his eyes he gazed upward, then +to the sides. He moved about along the row of elevators, and even +his footfalls had a curious sound, a sound that he seemed to vaguely +recognize. The elevator starter approached and inquired what he was +looking for, but Cole only shook his head in a preoccupied way. + +Suddenly he laughed aloud. In a twinkling all his confused impressions +clarified. Once more he glanced upward. He knew, though he could not +tell why or how, that far overhead was the rendezvous of The Unknown +Seven. + + + + + CHAPTER XIV + + COLE’S RUSE + + +Cole’s conviction that he had found the building occupied by The +Unknown Seven was a matter of instinct rather than reason. He felt that +once before, and not so long ago, his feet had trod the squares of +stone that composed the floor. The surroundings had a remotely familiar +appearance; perhaps he had subconsciously caught a glimpse of them as +he rushed out in pursuit of the hunchback. Along the wall opposite the +elevators was a row of small shops, a cigar store, a haberdashery, a +news stand, and, on the corner, the office of a broker. Cole glanced at +the signs, and they stirred hazy recollections in the back of his mind. + +There could be no doubt of it; chance and Mr. Englebreth had led him to +the very place he had been most anxious to find. + +On the wall in the back was a directory of the tenants. “Security +Building” it said at the top, and the very name smacked of +conservatism, stability, and decorum. It spelled efficiency and prose +and left the imagination untouched. It hinted of things far removed +from the secret activities of the group of strange men who occupied +the top floor. He ran his eyes down the names of corporations and +individuals, but there was none that interested him. Among the former +were probably several in which members of The Unknown Seven were +concerned, but he had no means of identifying them. + +He turned away and grinned sheepishly, as he noticed that the elevator +starter was squinting at him in a suspicious way. There were five +elevators, but, after he had seen them all come up and down, he knew +that none of them was the automatic one used privately by the members +of the organization. For a time he was puzzled. At the farther side +of the shaft was a door marked “Private,” and beyond this a flight of +stairs. No doubt they were the same stairs he had rushed down the night +before, after stopping his dizzy descent at the second floor. + +But it was the door between the stairs and the shaft that claimed his +interest. The single word, “Private,” stenciled in black letters on a +golden-brown surface, piqued his curiosity. It was plainly a hint to +strangers to keep out. Signs of that kind had held a strong fascination +for Cole ever since he was a boy. It was just as if some one had dared +him to pass through the forbidden door. He tried it furtively, though +well aware of the starter’s oblique scrutiny. It was locked, as he +had expected, but the word, “Private,” continued to tantalize him. +What could be on the other side of the locked door? The office of the +superintendent of the building, perhaps. Or, maybe, the establishment +of a mail-order concern that did not care for personal relations with +its customers. On the other hand it might be only a storeroom where the +scrub women kept their mops and brooms and buckets. All these guesses +seemed plausible enough, but Cole strongly suspected something entirely +different. Unless he were greatly mistaken, the door was the entrance +to the private elevator. + +Wishing to verify his surmise, he walked up to the starter and, in a +tone which might have signified that he was an agent for the building +department or the inspector of an insurance company, inquired by whom +the private door was being used. + +“A bunch of nuts,” said the starter, moved to loquacity by Cole’s +official air. “They come an’ go at all hours. They’s some big bugs +among ’em, too. Guess they belong to wunna them secret societies.” + +Cole tried to learn more, but the man became suddenly tight-lipped +and referred him to the superintendent of the building for further +information. “It’s agin’ my orders to talk about the tenants,” he added. + +Cole nodded understandingly and stepped aside. The locked door seemed +to bar further progress for the present. Just then he remembered his +original errand. He had almost forgotten Englebreth. The cage into +which he had seen the invalid carried had just reached the ground +floor and was disgorging passengers. Cole waited till it was ready to +make another trip, then stepped in and slipped a small bill into the +operator’s hand. + +“You carried up a crippled person some ten or fifteen minutes ago,” he +said in an undertone. “Where did he go?” + +“Oh, him!” The operator grinned as he stuffed the bill into a pocket. +“He comes here every now and then. You’ll find him in 2512, sir. It’s +the top floor.” + +Cole got out on the twenty-fifth floor. To all outward appearances +it was, indeed, the top floor of the building. The elevator shaft +terminated in a blank ceiling, and the stairs in the back extended no +higher. It was somewhat tantalizing to know that directly above him, +and yet completely out of reach, was the rendezvous of The Unknown +Seven. + +Cole paused outside the door numbered 2512, but he did not knock. +He could think of no pretext for seeking another interview with +Englebreth. The office, as was indicated by the sign on the frosted +glass, was occupied by the Bureau of Civil Research, and he made a +mental note of the fact. He could see no particular significance in +Englebreth’s visit to a place of that kind. No doubt the Bureau of +Civic Research was one of the numerous activities that his former +client cultivated as a hobby. As far as his original purpose was +concerned it looked as though Cole had wasted his time, but there was +consolation in the fact that he had incidentally found the headquarters +of The Unknown Seven. For the moment, however, he did not see how he +was to profit by his discovery. + +He descended, cast a mildly baffled glance at the private door, and +went out to lunch. It seemed as if there was nothing for him to do but +loiter in the vicinity of the building and wait for one of the members +to appear. Idleness irked him, however, and he disliked the thought +that such a small thing as a locked door was standing in his way. He +cudgeled his brain for an idea, as he strolled out of the restaurant. + +Suddenly he found one, and he walked two blocks and ducked into a +subway entrance. Soon he was aboard an uptown train, bound for Doctor +Latham’s residence. He suspected that in the pockets of the hunchback +he would find a key that would unlock the door. If his guess had been +correct, and the door opened into the elevator used by The Unknown +Seven, then the hunchback must have passed through that very door the +previous night. He could not have done so unless he had a duplicate +key. He might have thrown it away, of course, but the chances were that +it was still in his possession. + +Cole looked sharply about him as he walked down the block in which the +doctor resided. He knew Tony was lurking somewhere in the neighborhood, +but the youngster had a surprising knack at making himself +inconspicuous when the occasion demanded it. He rang the doctor’s +doorbell and was told by the white-capped attendant who admitted him +that the physician was engaged with a patient. Cole waited in the +reception room. Evidently Latham did not permit his other enterprises +to interfere with his practice, for several patients were waiting to +consult him. + +Presently the door opened, and the doctor arched his brows as he saw +Cole in the waiting group. After a moment’s hesitancy he motioned him +to enter the consulting room. + +“How is the patient, doctor?” inquired Cole briskly, glancing at the +door in the rear. + +Latham stroked his glossy beard. “As well as can be expected, +considering the awkward position you left him in. He has difficulty +getting about.” + +“Then you have not yet succeeded in extricating him from his +embarrassing predicament?” + +“Oh, no!” said the doctor with a dry laugh. “I haven’t even tried. I +just removed him to one of the spare bedrooms upstairs. He was in the +way down here. You wish to have a talk with him, I suppose? I fear it +is impossible. He grew hysterical a while ago, and I had to give him a +sedative.” + +“It doesn’t matter. I just want to look at him.” + +Latham gave him a queer glance, then he smiled knowingly. “I see,” he +murmured. “You wish to make sure that he hasn’t escaped, despite the +handicap you imposed on him. This way.” + +He opened a door and preceded Cole up a flight of stairs. They entered +a room, and Cole saw the hunchback stretched out on the operating table +and sound asleep. The physician watched him narrowly as Cole stepped +up to the recumbent man and began to explore his pockets. A blank look +came into the doctor’s eyes when Cole, with a murmur of satisfaction, +extracted a key. + +“As I observed once before,” said Latham, “you are a most astounding +person. I wonder what the significance of that key might be.” + +“Every key has a mission, doctor, and that is to unlock some door.” + +The physician regarded him thoughtfully. “I don’t understand you at +all. You do such unexpected things. I am still wondering what your +intentions are with respect to my patient.” + +“For the present my only concern is that he shan’t get away.” + +The doctor pondered for a few moments longer, then he shrugged his +shoulders, and the two men walked down the stairs in silence. As they +reached the consultation office and were about to pass into the outer +room, Latham paused with his hand on the doorknob. “Would it surprise +you very much,” he asked in slow, incisive accents, “if I were to tell +you that I am just as anxious as you can possibly be that the fellow +upstairs shan’t get away?” + +Cole’s eyes opened wide. “No, it wouldn’t surprise me. I would simply +be unable to follow you. You are a deep one, doctor; nothing that you +could say or do would startle me.” + +Latham’s face relaxed in a smile. “I construe that as a compliment. +Please appease my curiosity on one point. You have taken extraordinary +precautions against my patient escaping, but what about myself? Aren’t +you afraid that I might run away?” + +“I am not,” said Cole emphatically. “You are not the kind that runs +away. You work by subtler means than that. Where men of coarser +mentality would kill an undesirable person, you merely render him +harmless. If, later on, it should prove absolutely necessary to remove +him, you hire another man to perform the nasty job. Your sensitive soul +shrinks from vulgar tactics and sordid actions. For the same reason you +don’t run away from danger. Instead, you plan your moves so carefully +in advance that the risk is reduced to the lowest possible minimum, and +flight becomes unnecessary.” + +It was a rather blunt speech, and Cole had spoken so plainly only +because he wished to watch the effect on the doctor. In the end he +was disappointed. The expansive beard concealed all outward signs of +emotion; the face was no more expressive than a wooden image. For just +a moment the eyes shone with a cold gleam, but that was all. When Cole +had finished, the bearded lips parted in a pleased smile. + +“Thanks,” murmured Latham. “Too bad we appear to be enemies. I like you +immensely—I really do.” + +He held the door open and Cole went out. As he walked toward the subway +he was almost inclined to share the doctor’s regret that they were +enemies. There was something at once attractive and repellent about +Latham. His subtleties, his cool audacity, and his flashing wits made +him a charming personality, and there was a certain fascination even +about his cold cynicism and conscienceless manner. Cole came away from +the doctor’s house with a spell hanging over him. But, aside from these +things, there were phases of Latham’s character that he could not +understand. Stray remarks, which the doctor had dropped, and certain +telltale gestures and mannerisms lingered in his memory while he rode +downtown. + +“A fascinating riddle and a highly accomplished villain,” was his way +of summing up the doctor’s many-sided personality, as he got out of the +subway and turned toward the Security Building. + +He entered and, key in hand, walked direct to the private door. The +elevator starter gave him an astonished glance, but did not interfere. +The key fitted easily. Cole opened the door and stepped in, then +quickly closed it behind him. He was in a narrow cage, with a small +electric bulb at the top. He looked about him in bewilderment, for +there was no sign of any apparatus by which the elevator could be +started. Carlin had told him that there was a peculiar mechanism that +could be operated only by the initiated, but all Cole saw was a dial +with figures along the rim and a knob in the center. It looked like the +combination lock of a safe. + +He twirled the knob back and forth, but without result. He tried +several different combinations on the dial, but the elevator refused +to budge. With ingrained stubbornness he persisted in his efforts, but +in the end he was forced to confess that the task was beyond him. He +was on the point of getting out when a key grated in the lock. A moment +later the door came open, and Miss Brown entered the cage. + +She started slightly as she saw him. Cole looked at her, and his frown +melted. She was simply, but charmingly, attired in a tailor-made suit +of some soft, gray material the name of which was not included in +Cole’s vocabulary. + +“Oh, you came!” she exclaimed. + +“Yes, but I didn’t get very far.” Cole regarded her with a half +humorous, half reproachful glance. Her plain little hat set off +to perfection the lily-white complexion and the hair like ruffled +sunshine. “How did you expect me to manipulate the contraption?” + +“I didn’t really expect you to,” she told him, while she whirled the +knob back and forth a number of times. “In fact, I was sure it would +stump you, but the others had their doubts on that point.” + +“I see,” said Cole dryly, as the cage rocketed upward. “If I had +shown that I knew how to operate the mechanism I would have convicted +myself of duplicity, and the suspicions of the others would have been +confirmed. But don’t you see that a man who is clever enough to ferret +out secrets while blindfolded would not betray himself so flagrantly?” + +There was a twinkle of mirth in her deep-blue eyes. “Clever men are +often vain. You might have construed my note as a challenge to your +dexterity. It wasn’t that, of course. It was only a test of your +honesty.” + +“And now you are convinced?” + +“I was practically convinced before, but the others needed proof.” + +“What convinced you?” + +The blue eyes regarded him shrewdly, almost impersonally. Cole was +reminded of a biologist watching a controlled experiment. + +“I am seldom mistaken in matters of that kind,” she said simply. + +The cage stopped. As they got out, Cole abruptly asked the question +that had been uppermost in his mind all the time. “What about Reeves?” + +“Dead, stabbed through the heart. He was breathing his last when we +found him.” + +Cole nodded grimly. Miss Brown’s words had merely confirmed something +of which he had been practically certain. They had gone through the +hidden door in the wall by this time and were now in the corridor. They +passed several men who bowed respectfully to Miss Brown and cast hard +glances at Cole. The woman opened a door, and they entered the large +room with the filing cabinets and the glass globe, the room in which +Cole had been the night before. + +At a desk, with iron-gray head bent over a stack of papers, sat Grover +Carlin. The lawyer looked up as they entered, and a faint smile flitted +across his rugged face and tempered the cold gleam in his eyes. “Glad +to see you, Mr. Cole,” he said in measured tones. “I am also pleasantly +surprised. Your abrupt departure, just after the murder last night, +looked pretty bad.” + +“I was rather surprised that you didn’t try to stop me.” + +Carlin grinned apologetically. “No one thought of doing so until it was +too late. Everybody, including myself, were stricken senseless by the +murder. We couldn’t realize that such a thing had happened right here +in our midst. It seemed unbelievable. All we could think was that you +were——” + +“In cahoots with the murderer,” suggested Cole when the lawyer paused. +“Well, I admit it looked strange. That murder was about as nervy a +piece of rascality as I ever heard of. The fellow came here determined +to carry out his purpose or die in the attempt. Doesn’t his reckless +audacity and the ease with which he got into your establishment suggest +something to your mind, Mr. Carlin?” + +“Oh, yes a number of things. It suggests that he had powerful +influences behind him. The motive isn’t far to seek. The men +responsible for the murder feared that Reeves might recover from the +effects of the operation and divulge certain facts which would be to +their detriment. They decided to prevent that by silencing him forever.” + +“What else?” asked Cole, eying the lawyer steadily. + +Carlin gave him a quizzical glance. + +“How do you suppose the fellow got in?” Cole went on. “Where did he +get the duplicate key to the elevator door? How did he get hold of +the combination that controls the mechanism? Who told him how to get +through the wall? How do you explain that, after entering, he walked +straight to the room where Reeves was? As you probably remember, we +heard the cry only a few moments after the green light had flashed, +showing that the murderer knew his way thoroughly.” + +Carlin gazed at him hard and long. “Well?” he asked at length. + +“Perhaps you still suspect me?” asked Cole lightly. + +“No.” The word came a little uncertainly. “I never really suspected +you. I only had certain doubts about you, doubts which were natural +under the circumstances. Your return here this afternoon speaks +volumes. You would scarcely have come back if you had been playing us +false. I feel I owe you an apology.” + +“It’s accepted,” said Cole with a laugh. “But apologies aren’t going to +remedy matters. Mr. Carlin, there’s a traitor among you.” + +Miss Brown, seated near by, caught her breath. The lawyer thrust his +head forward a little. “Impossible,” he said. “There was a traitor +among us, as I explained to you, but we got rid of him. For all I know +he may be dead by this time. I am ready to swear to the reliability of +every man on our staff.” + +Cole seemed inclined to argue the point, but he desisted. His eyes +twinkled a little, and he looked as though he were content to let +developments prove the truth of what he had said. + +“There is one thing you haven’t explained, Mr. Cole,” said Miss Brown. +“I am curious to know how you got into the elevator a little while ago. +Where did you get the key?” + +“Oh, the key,” said Cole lightly. “Why, I found it in the murderer’s +pocket.” + +Carlin and Miss Brown looked at him in speechless astonishment. + +“I seem to be telling things backward,” Cole went on. “After I left +here early this morning I gave the fellow a chase and caught him. He’s +a hunchbacked, dried-up wisp of a man, and as evil looking a specimen +of humanity as I ever saw.” + +Carlin blinked his eyes bewilderedly and looked at Cole, as if he had +just discovered some new quality in him. + +“And you—you caught him?” asked Miss Brown. “Where—how?” + +Cole explained, but only very briefly. There was a gleam of sly humor +in his eye. Toward the end of his recital he did a strange thing. He +finished it off with an embellishing touch that was not in strict +accordance with the truth. + +“The best part of it all,” he said in casual tones, “is that I have +the fellow’s confession in black and white. Like most of his kind he +showed the yellow streak when he saw the game was up. Just how complete +the confession is I can’t say, but it contains several interesting +facts.” + +“Where is it?” said Carlin excitedly. “Have you got it with you?” He +half rose from his chair, then sat down again. + +“No; it isn’t wise to carry such things on one’s person. No telling +when you’re going to get knocked down and have your pockets picked. The +confession is in a safe place. In due time I shall show it to you.” + +Carlin seemed inclined to ask questions, but Cole’s face showed plainly +that he had said all that he intended to say for the present. The +lawyer got up, walked around the desk and gave the other’s shoulder +a vigorous slap. “You belong here with us,” he declared with blunt +emphasis. “You’re just the man for the job. I was sure of it before; +now I’m doubly certain. You’ve proven your fitness in forty different +ways. Will you accept?” + +Cole’s eyes gleamed wistfully. His smile showed that the proposition +appealed to him. “You aren’t offering me the position just because I +wormed a confession out of the hunchback?” he asked guardedly. + +“By no means. We were ready to offer you the place a week ago, while +you were sniffing around the edges of what you called the Carmody case. +We need you, Cole. Think it over carefully. Consider the opportunities.” + +“I have considered them. I am strongly tempted to accept, especially +since I am out of a job.” Cole gave a whimsical little laugh. “I +forgot to tell you that Englebreth gave me my walking papers this +morning. Do you care to take on a man who was fired by his last +employer?” + +“You just bet we do!” Carlin extended his hand, and Cole gripped it +vigorously. “This evening your appointment will be confirmed by the +full board, and afterward we’ll introduce you to the members of the +staff. There’s one matter that’s got to be settled immediately though. +You’ve got a ticklish problem to solve right at the start, Cole. +Something must be done about the body of Reeves.” + +Cole had already thought of that. He realized what a delicate position +The Unknown Seven were in. The murder could not be reported to the +police without jeopardizing the secrecy that, to a great extent, had +been responsible for the organization’s success. Neither would it be +easy to turn the body over to the proper authorities without imperiling +the society’s seclusion. It was a knotty problem, and Cole considered +it from all angles, while Carlin and Miss Brown showed him over the +premises. + +Cole’s eyes grew wider and wider as he was conducted from room to +room. On one side of the hall were the offices with their steel filing +cases, huge nickel-plated safes, desks, typewriters, and even a +rogues’ gallery, which Cole inspected with avid interest. One room was +devoted to finger prints and the Bertillon system of identification. +Adjoining it was a laboratory in which, as Carlin explained, the +latest scientific discoveries were adapted to the requirements of the +detective profession. + +They crossed the hall, and it seemed to Cole that he was entering +a different world. This part of the establishment was given over to +clubrooms, but they were more magnificent than any Cole had ever seen. +There was a well-appointed gymnasium; a swimming pool in which clear +water gleamed invitingly in a huge tank of marble; a library containing +all the latest fiction and belles-lettres; a dining room, an art +gallery, a pool and billiard parlor, and various cozy little nooks for +the members. + +“You see, Mr. Cole, we believe in combining pleasure and comfort with +work,” explained Carlin, when the tour of inspection was finished and +they were back in the office from which they had started. “By the way, +dinner will be served at six-thirty. You must stay and dine with us.” + +Cole agreed after a moment’s hesitation. His glance fell on the +telephone at Carlin’s desk, and suddenly he seemed to remember +something. + +“Perhaps you would like to use the telephone,” the lawyer suggested. +“The switchboard is in an office on the tenth floor, and all incoming +and outgoing calls are relayed through it. No chance of a call being +traced, you see.” + +Cole picked up the telephone and gave the operator the number of his +landlady. Carlin and Miss Brown started to withdraw, but Cole assured +them there was nothing personal about the call and asked them to stay. + +“That you, Mrs. Armstrong?” he asked when he had got his connection. +“Mr. Cole speaking. I may not be home till late this evening, and +I wonder if you’d mind running up and giving Toots her milk. Yes, +Toots—T-o-o-t-s. The cat, you know. Very good of you. Will you do it +right away, Mrs. Armstrong? I’ll hold the wire till you come back. +Toots wasn’t looking well this morning. Acted as if she had a headache +or something. I’m anxious to know how she is.” + +With the receiver at his ear, Cole waited. Carlin stroked his chin +reflectively. From time to time he gazed in an odd way at the man who +was to direct the activities of The Unknown Seven, and whose sole +concern just now appeared to be an ailing cat. Miss Brown was amused +and took no pains to conceal it. + +Cole was kept waiting a long time. At last he pricked up his ears in a +startled way, as if some surprising news was being told him. He uttered +a few short exclamations, then hung up the receiver and glanced at his +watch. + +“Mr. Carlin,” he said gravely, in a tone so low that the other two +could scarcely hear, “two hours ago I sat in this chair and told you +a lie.” He made a silencing signal with his hand as Miss Brown and +Carlin started to interrupt. “Yes, a lie. What I said about having +wrung a confession from the hunchback wasn’t true, though all the +rest was in strict accordance with the facts. As you may remember, I +mentioned having put the confession in a safe place. From that you +might have inferred that I had hidden it at my home, or placed it in a +safe-deposit box.” + +He was speaking in whispers, as if afraid that an eavesdropper might be +lurking somewhere in the room. The faces of his two listeners showed +stark bewilderment. + +“That was two hours ago,” he went on, “and just now my landlady told me +that when she went up to my rooms to feed the cat she found everything +thrown topsy-turvy. The place looked as if a cyclone had struck it.” + +Miss Brown gave a little gasp. Carlin’s pupils contracted in +astonishment. He stared hard at Cole, while a cloud overspread his +face. One arm was stretched out on the desk, and his fingers clenched +and unclenched spasmodically. + +“They didn’t lose any time,” he muttered. “I don’t understand, but you +were right, Cole. There’s a traitor among us.” + + + + + CHAPTER XV + + THE TRAITOR UNMASKED + + +With his fingers across his lips, Cole enjoined silence. His glance +darted quickly over the floor, the ceiling and the walls. He moved +hither and thither, looking behind desks and filing cases. Finally he +stepped behind Carlin’s desk and gazed speculatively at a panel of +grille work in the wall. He held his hand before it and felt a strong +draft of fresh air. It was obviously a ventilating shaft, and the force +of the current suggested that air was driven into it by fans. + +He whirled round and whispered to Carlin and the girl. “Talk,” he said, +“talk on any subject but the one you’re thinking on. Be as natural as +you can.” + +Carlin showed plainly that he did not understand, but he nodded +obediently. Cole tiptoed to a typewriter desk in the rear, and in one +of the drawers he found a box containing a number of small tools. +Selecting a screw driver, he went back to the air shaft and loosened +several of the screws that held the grilled panel. In a few moments he +could bend it outward, and now he inserted his hand and ran it up and +down the sides of the shaft. + +“Any more of that sauterne left?” he heard Carlin ask the girl. + +“About a dozen bottles, I think.” + +“We’ll instruct the chef to have it served after the fish course. Just +to celebrate the occasion, you know. Afterward——” + +The lawyer ran on with the dogged air of a soldier obeying orders that +he doesn’t understand; but Cole heard no more. A sudden tensing of his +body hinted that he had verified a suspicion. He had found a small +metal disk attached to the opposite side of the air shaft, and to it +was affixed a wire that extended upward. A serio-comic smile twisted +his lips as he rejoined Carlin and Miss Brown. “Guess what I found,” he +said in a whisper. + +The other two stared. + +“An amplifying disk and a wire that seems to run out on the roof. A +dictaphone in other words. There may be others scattered throughout the +place. My little ruse has shown that these walls have ears.” + +The lawyer was too astounded for words. Miss Brown looked fixedly at +Cole, her lips trembling a little at the corners. + +“Did I hear you say something about sauterne?” asked Cole in his usual +speaking voice, at the same time motioning them to step farther away +from the shaft in which the disk was hidden. “Favorite drink of mine, +though I take only an occasional drop of such things.” Again he lowered +his voice. “To-night I shall get out on the roof and see where the wire +runs to. Carlin, this is additional proof that there is a renegade +in our midst. The man who posted the hunchback on how to get in here +probably installed the dictaphone. It isn’t safe for us to make a +single move until we have singled him out and rendered him harmless. +We must attend to that even before we consider what is to be done with +the body of Reeves.” + +Carlin still seemed a trifle dazed. “You are right, of course,” he +said. “We must get rid of the blackguard at once. It is startling to +think that any one in our organization may be the traitor. How are we +going to find him?” + +“Leave that to me.” Cole’s narrowing gaze slanted upward, as if his +thoughts were on the track of an idea. “I have noticed that a man of +that kind nearly always has a flaw in him of some sort. Generally that +flaw is cowardice. That gives us an advantage over him, right at the +start. We’ll play on his cowardice and make him betray himself.” + +The lawyer looked somewhat dubious. “How?” he asked. + +“I haven’t studied out the details yet,” said Cole, but the slow +twinkle in his eye told that the idea was assuming shape. “You sowed +the seed of a plan in my mind when you mentioned sauterne. But don’t +expect anything spectacular. Sometimes simple measures work best. Can +you arrange to have the whole organization here for dinner?” + +The lawyer fingered his chin in a bewildered way. “It could be managed. +Most of them have planned to attend, anyway.” + +“Splendid! Now, Carlin, since I am to take charge of the work here, +it would seem only fitting that everybody should drink my health in +sauterne, wouldn’t it?” + +“Cer—certainly,” stammered Carlin. + +“You could propose the toast yourself. I know you will do it +charmingly. And I want you to see to it that everybody is invited to +drink, including the waiters and the kitchen help. You could explain +that the toast is to be a sort of pledge of allegiance.” + +The lawyer looked blinkingly at Cole, searching his face in vain for a +sign that he was jesting. + +“I’m not sure there is enough sauterne to go around,” observed Miss +Brown, who evidently shared Carlin’s stupefaction. + +“Then use smaller glasses,” suggested Cole. “Besides, in an emergency +the wine can be thinned out. I think you said there were a dozen +bottles. That ought to be enough for one round. I can almost taste +that sauterne already.” He smacked his lips as he consulted his watch. +“Carlin, I wonder if you would mind telephoning my landlady, Gramercy +0099, to see if any messages have been received for me. The bright +youngster who is watching Doctor Latham’s house may have been trying to +reach me. In the meantime, Miss Brown, I am going to ask you to come +with me to the dining room. I want to get a general idea of the seating +arrangement.” + +With a long, wondering glance at Cole, the girl conducted him from the +office, while Carlin cleared his husky throat in preparation for the +task assigned him. + +“You are a very deep person, Mr. Cole,” the girl observed, as she led +him into the dining room, where tables were set in horseshoe formation. +“I have a suspicion that you are keeping a perfectly gorgeous scheme +all to yourself.” + +Cole smiled thinly, while his glance roved over snow-white napery and +brightly polished silver. At times Miss Brown had a naïveté about her +that he found rather alluring. + +“I’ll take you into the secret in a few moments,” he promised. “One +confidence deserves another, however. How much longer must I go on +calling you Miss Brown?” + +“Don’t you like the name?” + +“I do not. I suspect you invented it on the spur of the moment the +other night. It served well enough for a temporary acquaintanceship, +but now its usefulness is past.” + +“True,” she admitted. “It was an awkward alias, anyhow. How do you like +Merle Brownell?” + +“Much better. One syllable more or less makes a lot of difference at +times. I take it you are the high priestess of The Unknown Seven?” + +“Oh, no! I’m only an odd-job expert. My father, who died three years +ago, was the founder of the organization. I have hung around, more +or less, ever since. Most of the time I suspect I am in the way, but +occasionally I manage to make myself useful.” + +Cole regarded her with a look that seemed to say, “You’ll pass.” + +“You promised to take me into your secret,” she reminded him. “Aren’t +you afraid? How do you know that I’m not the traitor, or traitoress?” + +“I know,” said Cole firmly, “but don’t ask me how I know. By the way, +Miss Brownell,” and Cole lowered his voice several octaves, “I see the +wineglasses haven’t been placed yet. Don’t you think you had better +speak to the chef about the sauterne?” + +She gave him a puzzled look, then a roguish smile illuminated her +face. “I’m beginning to think the sauterne is the chief ingredient in +that brilliant idea of yours,” she declared, as she left the room. A +few moments later Cole followed, turning toward the laboratory which +Carlin had so proudly shown him. At one wall were several shelves on +which bottles were placed in long rows. After studying the labels, Cole +selected one of the bottles and put it in his pocket. + +Miss Brownell was supervising the placing of the wineglasses when he +returned to the dining room. He stood aside and watched silently until +the task was finished and the waiter had left the room. Then he took +the bottle from his pocket and stepped to the table. + +“Please guard the door,” he told Miss Brownell, speaking in very low +tones. “If any one wants to enter, keep him out on any pretext you +like.” + +She watched him in astonishment while he went to work. The bottle +contained a colorless liquid, and with great care he poured a few drops +into each wineglass. + +“Are you going to poison us?” she asked. There was a secretive air +about Cole that seemed to prohibit talking aloud. + +“No, the stuff’s harmless. Nothing but spirits of hartshorn. It will +mix with the wine, but only a person with a very sensitive tongue will +notice the queer taste. Such a person, if there should be one among us +this evening, will notice that the wine has an odd flavor, but that’s +all. He won’t be able to identify the added ingredient. The quantity is +too slight.” + +“That makes everything very clear of course,” remarked Miss Brownell. +“About as clear as mud.” + +Cole went calmly on with his work. “I suppose it has often occurred +to you, Miss Brownell, that the imagination is a great aid to one’s +senses. Tell a person there’s a fire in the next room, and he will +instantly smell smoke, even though he may not have noticed it before.” + +“I don’t see what that has to do with what you are doing.” + +“A very great deal. When these glasses have been filled with wine, a +person, taking a casual sip of the concoction, will not notice the +queer taste. If he is told, after the second or third sip, that he +has drunk poisoned wine, the peculiar taste will become noticeable at +once. Without stopping to try to identify the queer flavor, he will +instantly become convinced that he has been poisoned, especially if the +circumstances are such that he already has reason to fear that some +such thing is going to happen to him. That’s what imagination does to a +person.” + +“Is this some kind of psychological experiment?” + +“In a way.” Cole had reached the last glass and was now putting the +bottle in his pocket. “Incidentally it is interesting to note that a +person with an uneasy conscience always has a lively imagination. Not +only can he spot real dangers a mile off, but his guilty conscience +is constantly surrounding him with imaginary ones. It’s a lucky +thing, too. If it wasn’t for such frailties in the human make-up, +we detectives would lose our reputation for achieving brilliant +deductions.” + +Miss Brownell smiled soberly as they walked out. “I think we are +going to have a most interesting dinner,” she murmured. “I hope your +psychological experiment will succeed, Mr. Cole. I must run off now and +powder my nose.” + +Cole slipped back to the laboratory and replaced the bottle. A few +moments later he met Carlin in the corridor. The lawyer told him that +he had called up Cole’s landlady, but no messages had been received for +him. + +“That means Doctor Latham has made no move yet,” said Cole +thoughtfully. “He plays a slow and sure hand.” + +The lawyer nodded. “Your landlady seemed quite distracted over the +robbery,” he announced. + +“She isn’t the only one. I bet Toots is the most distracted female in +the world, just now.” Cole gazed gloomily into space, and then a tall, +broad-shouldered man approached with an easy swagger. Cole’s lips +twisted into a reminiscent smile, as he recognized the surgeon. + +“Hello, Ballinger,” said the lawyer. “Shake hands with Kingdon Cole if +you dare. I wouldn’t blame him if he were to shoot you on sight, but he +has a forgiving disposition. Cole has just agreed to become one of us.” + +“Splendid!” ejaculated the doctor, and the two men shook hands. As +their fingers touched, Cole experienced that indescribable something +that comes from contact with a man of strong personal magnetism. +Ballinger’s grip could not have been called energetic, but it +transmitted a subtle electric current. + +“You are tackling a man-size job,” remarked the doctor after Carlin +had withdrawn. “You will have a chance to match your wits against the +infernal cleverness of the astutest rogue in the country. I suppose +Carlin has explained the situation to you?” + +“He has only given me a few hints. There hasn’t been time for detailed +explanations. All I know is that a colossal project of some sort is on +foot, and that The Unknown Seven is trying to put a crimp in it.” + +Ballinger took his arm and led him to the smoking room. He extended +his cigar case, and Cole noticed that his fingers were long, slim, +and finely tapering, the fingers of one having a deft touch, a strong +imagination, and a lively dramatic instinct. Again Cole saw that +Ballinger’s resemblance to Doctor Latham was very slight, extending +only to outward physique. It was the disguise, and the black beard in +particular that had produced the likeness. + +“Too bad about poor Reeves,” murmured Ballinger, as he held a lighted +match in his cupped hands. “His life, however, would have been only a +burden to himself and others, so in one sense it is just as well that +he was shuffled off. For professional reasons I regret his death very +keenly. I had hopes of being able to restore his brain to some degree +of normal functioning. If I had succeeded I think he would have told us +a most interesting story, and that, of course, was just what the other +side feared. However, his actions told us a great deal the other night.” + +“When he seemed to recognize Doctor Latham in you?” + +“Exactly. To that extent the experiment was a complete success. It was +Carlin’s idea, and the credit belongs to him. I merely carried out his +suggestions, and I didn’t particularly relish the task.” He chuckled +apologetically. “Well, the murder of Reeves is additional proof of +the fact that we are fighting a crowd of very ingenious and utterly +conscienceless scoundrels. Evidently they are directed by a master +mind, a genius of the kind we often read about, but seldom meet. You +will admit there’s a great deal of fascination about a rascal of that +type, Cole?” + +Cole did not answer, but he remembered the magnetic tug he had felt in +Doctor Latham’s presence. + +“I almost envy you the exciting times you will have tracking this +master mind to his lair,” Ballinger went on. “We know some of the +smaller fry in the crowd, Professor Carmody, for instance, but our +efforts won’t lead anywhere until we have found the directing genius. +And when we have found him, Cole, we will be face to face with an +interesting character. Brilliant, resourceful, unscrupulous, and full +of bewildering subtleties, the kind that kills without hesitation the +moment his plans are interfered with. I dare say you have already +suspected who he is?” + +Ballinger’s eyes shone with a fine glow of enthusiasm, but it was the +unimpassioned enthusiasm of a scientist who dissects and analyzes. + +“Perhaps,” said Cole guardedly. “Haven’t you?” + +Ballinger smiled queerly, but the opening of the door and the +announcement that dinner was served forestalled a reply. In the +corridor they were parted by a stream of people, and Cole found an +opportunity to speak a few words in Carlin’s ear. The lawyer nodded +bewilderedly, like one receiving instructions which he does not +understand. He knew Cole had a plan of some sort, but he could not make +even a guess as to what it was. + +There were some twenty-five or thirty at the table. Cole found himself +seated between Miss Brownell and Carlin. Inwardly he felt a tingling +sensation, as he contemplated the bombshell he was about to explode +among the diners, but his face showed no sign of it. Now and then he +stole a glance down the two wings of the table. He liked the faces of +the men with whom he was to work. They were an alert, keen-eyed lot, +the kind of men Cole himself would have selected. + +“You are a judge of faces,” whispered Miss Brownell, leaning slightly +toward him. “Who is the traitor?” + +Cole shook his head. That very question had already occurred to him. +There was not one in the gathering who by his looks could be singled +out as the traitor. + +“Whom would you pick?” he whispered back. + +Her glance ran quickly up and down the table. He could see that her +woman’s intuition was at work. A queer gleam came into her eyes; her +face hardened for a moment. He tried to trace her glance, but it was +too late. + +“It wouldn’t be fair to tell, would it?” she said evasively. “I may be +wrong, you know.” + +Cole only smiled. As nearly as he had been able to tell, her glance had +rested for an instant somewhere near the center of the left wing of the +table. He scanned the faces of the men seated there, but none of them +impressed him unfavorably, and he wondered what Miss Brownell could +have based her guess on. + +The dinner progressed by easy stages, and the scene which Cole had been +rehearsing in his mind was drawing near. Carlin, seated at his right, +looked nervous, and Miss Brownell’s usually vivacious manner seemed +somewhat dampened. Finally the sauterne was opened and the waiters +filled the glasses. Carlin cleared his throat. + +Noisy applause greeted the lawyer’s announcement that Cole had +accepted the management of The Unknown Seven’s activities. Then Carlin +proposed a toast, and it was drunk standing. Cole watched the faces +of the men as they quaffed their wine. In several of them he saw a +vaguely wondering look, telling him that their senses had registered +an impression so faint that as yet their minds had not grasped it. He +sipped his own wine, and he wondered whether he would have been able to +taste the foreign substance if he had not known it was there. + +When Carlin finished, Cole got to his feet amid renewed handclapping. +Somewhat bluntly he thanked them for the ovation, and then he veered +sharply to the subject uppermost in his mind. + +“I wonder,” he said, “how many of you can look me straight in the eye +and tell me that you are loyal to this organization.” + +A breathless hush followed. His very quiet tones had created a profound +impression. In the next instant every pair of eyes in the room was +leveled at him without wavering. + +“It seems to be unanimous,” he observed dryly. “One can lie, however, +with his eyes as well as with his tongue, and I know that one among you +is a liar.” + +Another period of silence followed, and then came a scraping of feet +and exclamations of incredulity. Cole held up a silencing hand. His +eyes were everywhere, noting each shifting expression in the startled +faces before him. + +“One of you has proven false to the organization,” he declared in +short-clipped accents. “I discovered it only a little while ago. I +found positive proof, not only of the treachery, but of the traitor’s +identity as well. He is at this table. He was one of those who only a +few moments ago looked me straight in the eyes. What shall we do with +him?” + +Once more came an electric hush. Cole had spoken quietly, but with an +emphasis that carried conviction. He smiled faintly, as he met the +startled glances of the diners. A slight trace of the foreign substance +in the wine was still lingering on his tongue. + +“What shall we do with him?” he asked again. + +“There’s only one thing to do with a traitor,” muttered some one at +the farther end of the table, and the suggestion was followed by a +chorus of approval. + +“And that thing has already been done,” declared Cole with grim +emphasis. “So that it may serve as a warning to others who may be +tempted to betray us, the traitor will die right before our eyes. +Inside one minute the poison that was put into his glass will begin to +take effect.” + +Cole pretended to look at his watch, but his glance was gliding swiftly +over the two long rows of faces. He had spoken rapidly, and yet with a +quiet insistence, putting his astounding announcement into the fewest +possible words. The effect he hoped to produce depended upon a quick +assault on the guilty person’s mental faculties, shocking him off +his balance before he had time to digest the statement. In the acute +tension of the moment, the vague impression that he had received while +sipping his wine would suddenly crystallize, and then, with the fear of +death upon him, he could not help betraying himself. + +At least such was the psychological effect Cole had intended, and he +had been reasonably sure that the test would succeed. Moments passed +while he stood, watch in hand, glancing out of the tail of an eye +at the faces around the table. Sixty seconds passed, and a look of +diffidence crossed his features. Here and there an impatient mutter was +heard. Carlin was looking up at him with an expression of thinly veiled +disappointment. At length Cole snapped the watch shut. He smiled rather +sheepishly. + +“The trick didn’t work,” he said disgustedly. “Yes, I might as well +admit it was only a trick. The traitor was too clever to betray +himself.” With that he sat down, well aware that he had made an +unfavorable impression. + +“It was too thin, Cole,” whispered Carlin in his ear. “Too bad you +didn’t consult me beforehand.” + +Cole nodded dejectedly. Then he felt Miss Brownell’s gaze on his face. +He turned and saw a knowing twinkle in her eyes. + +“It was very clever, Mr. Cole,” she whispered. But for all that her +face indicated she might have given him only a consoling platitude. +“You saw, of course?” + +“Yes, I saw enough.” The sheepish grin still lingered on Cole’s lips. +“And you guessed right. The traitor is sitting near the center of the +left wing of the table. Doctor Ballinger is a very astute rascal. It +took him only a fraction of a second to see through my little bluff. He +is smiling behind his palm this very moment. We’ll just let him keep on +smiling for a while, eh, Miss Brownell?” + + + + + CHAPTER XVI + + GOLD + + +After dinner Cole looked the picture of a man whose faith in himself +has received a staggering blow. He seemed to take the outcome of his +ruse very much to heart. He moved gloomily among the members of the +organization, getting personally acquainted with a number of the men +on his staff, and all the while he appeared to be making valiant, but +not very successful, efforts to shake off his depression. Carlin did +his best to gloss over the apparent frustration of the scheme, but Cole +proved a hard man to console. + +Doctor Ballinger approached him after he had retired into a corner, +and gave him a vigorous slap on the shoulder. “Don’t take it so hard, +old man,” he said cheerily. “Know just exactly how you feel. It’s +embarrassing to turn up a flivver right at the start, but don’t you +mind. Better luck next time. Have a smoke.” + +“Thanks,” said Cole dejectedly, as he helped himself to a cigar from +the doctor’s case. “What hurts me most is that I know I was right. +Nothing is so humiliating to a man as to be sure of his facts and not +be able to prove them. I know positively that there’s a black sheep in +this fold. If I had worked the scheme properly——” + +“Tut, tut!” interrupted Ballinger. “Your scheme was all right in +principle. You were simply out of luck, that’s all. The traitor, if +you’re right in the assumption that there is such a creature among us, +is probably a very slick customer. No doubt you had him scared stiff +for a moment, but his emotional reaction didn’t last long enough for +him to betray himself. He assumed that you were only bluffing. At any +rate he saw that, having already drained his glass, nothing could be +gained by making a show of himself. In other words his mind outstripped +his emotions, and that’s where your psychology fell down. No matter! +You’ll get him next time.” + +Cole walked away, a faint twitching at the corners of his lips. In +the main Doctor Ballinger’s analysis had been correct. He had only +forgotten to mention one little detail. Just as the traitor’s mind +had outstripped his emotions, so had Cole’s alert glance outstripped +both. For just an instant Ballinger had shown all the symptoms of acute +terror. He had shaken them off with superb self-control, but not before +Cole’s eye had registered his momentary confusion. + +The revelation that Ballinger was the traitor had given Cole a shock +at first. The doctor was one of the last men in the organization whom +he would have suspected of treachery. Having found him out, Cole saw +no reason for apprising the doctor of the fact. He preferred to let +Ballinger lull himself into a false security until he should show his +hand more plainly. Neither did it seem advisable to Cole to take the +other members into his confidence in regard to his discovery. It would +be hard to keep a secret among so many, and the more hotheaded ones +among them would probably demand drastic action. + +As inconspicuously as he could, Cole left the others and withdrew to +the room that had been pointed out to him as his private office. It was +small and comfortable and devoid of the drabness that characterizes +the workroom of the average executive. There was a vase containing red +roses on the desk, and he noticed that the pictures on the wall had +been carefully chosen. He stretched himself out in the swivel chair and +rocked in an experimental way. His glance fell on three white buttons +affixed to the side of the desk. He pushed the one nearest him, just to +see what would happen. + +The door opened, and in strode the biggest negro Cole has ever seen. + +“Who are you?” he inquired. + +“Sambo, sah.” + +“And what’s your job, Sambo?” + +“Just now mah bussiness is to answer dese heay bells, sah. Dat ain’t +mah reg’lar job, though, but Rufus is done laid up in the hosspittle, +and I’se takin’ his place.” + +“What happened to Rufus? Sick?” + +“Yas, sah. Mighty sick, sah.” Sambo grinned expansively. “You ought to +know, boss, ’cause you made him sick yusself. Dat was an a’ful wallop +you handed Rufus, sah.” + +Cole smiled reminiscently, as he recalled one of the numerous +experiences that had enlivened his first visit to the establishment of +The Unknown Seven. + +“Too bad about Rufus,” he remarked. “Now, Sambo, I want you to find +Mr. McKendrick and ask him to come here at once.” + +“Yas, sah.” With a profound bow Sambo waddled out. + +McKendrick, one of the young operatives with whom Cole had chatted +since the dinner, appeared after a brief wait. He had a clear eye, a +whimsical expression about the mouth that had appealed to Cole on first +sight, and a firmly molded chin. + +“Go into the main office,” Cole directed. “You will find a dictaphone +in the ventilator shaft. The wire apparently runs out on the roof. +Trace it to the other end, then report to me.” + +“Very well, sir.” As McKendrick walked out, Cole noticed with approval +the easy swing to his shoulders. Once more he touched the nearest +button, and Sambo appeared almost instantly. + +“Find Sloane and tell him I want him,” Cole directed. + +Sloane entered in a few moments. With his keen intellectual features +and shell-rimmed spectacles he looked a good deal like a college +professor. + +“Sloane,” began Cole, “I want you to go to the block in which Doctor +Latham resides. Somewhere in the neighborhood, in a basement entrance +across the street, perhaps, you’ll find a young chap of dilapidated +appearance who answers to the name of Tony Pinto. He’s been watching +the doctor’s house for the past twenty-four hours and must be sadly in +need of food and sleep. Tell him I have sent you to relieve him.” + +“I understand perfectly, sir.” + +Cole gave him a few more instructions, and then Sloane withdrew. Again +Cole pressed the button, this time to summon a man whom he instructed +to make a thorough search all over the establishment for hidden disks +and wires. When the man had gone, Cole leaned back in his chair and +pondered. He had set the machinery in motion, but the hardest task he +had reserved for himself. Something had to be done very soon about the +body of Reeves. What to do with it was a problem that would demand all +his resourcefulness. Too, a watch must be kept over Doctor Ballinger, +and Cole did not like to delegate that business to any one else. He +expected to learn a great deal from the unsuspecting doctor’s movements +during the next twenty-four hours. + +He was deep in thought when a knock sounded on the door. In response to +his rather brusque “Come in,” Miss Brownell entered. + +“I’ve been thinking,” she announced. + +“So I see,” said Cole, placing a chair for her. Miss Brownell, he +observed, was one of the few women whom he had met who could wear a +thoughtful frown becomingly. Where another woman’s forehead would have +wrinkled, hers merely rippled. + +“You have been doing a lot of thinking yourself,” she remarked, +regarding him with that curious impersonal glance of hers. + +“Yes, but mostly in the dark,” Cole admitted. “I’m pretty much in the +same fix as the man who walks into a theater in the middle of the +second act. The only thing that’s clear so far is that the principal +actors in this drama seem to be doctors.” + +“You refer to Latham and Ballinger, of course. There is still another +doctor involved.” + +“Still another? Who is he?” + +“In a sense he is the real instigator of the plot, although he died one +hundred and thirty-eight years ago.” + +Cole blinked bewilderedly. “Sounds rather ghostly.” + +“His name was James Price, an English physician of high repute, who +discovered a method of transforming baser metals into gold. You can +read up on him in history or the biographical encyclopedias, if you +like. He wrote a book entitled ‘An Account of Some Experiments,’ but +it has been out of print a long time and copies are hard to obtain. +Professor Carmody owns one of the few still in existence.” + +“Oh!” said Cole, elevating his brows. “So that’s what the mystery is +about? But you don’t mean to tell me that sane men like Latham and +Ballinger are dabbling in the exploded myth of alchemy?” + +“I do. And that myth, by the way, seems to die very hard, Mr. Cole. +It’s been exploded and reëxploded since the dawn of history, and yet it +keeps bobbing up every now and then.” + +Cole gave a little impatient shrug. “It’s rubbish,” he declared. “I +have managed to forget most of the things I learned at school, but I +seem to recall that modern science has absolutely established the fact +that one element cannot be transformed into another.” + +She looked at him amusedly. “We women always smile when you men speak +of absolute facts. The phrase is so delightfully characteristic of +the sterner sex. And the world has moved since you went to school, +Mr. Cole. Science has hedged and quibbled and reversed itself a good +many times on the subject of the transformation of metals. It wasn’t +so very long ago that some one discovered that radium can be produced +from helium, or was it the other way round? Anyway, right there is an +instance of the transformation of one element into another.” + +Cole opened his lips to speak, but seemed unable to find the right +words. + +“I was telling you about James Price,” Miss Brownell went on. “He +claimed to have discovered a method whereby he could transform sixty +parts of mercury into one part of gold. He was rather secretive about +his discovery and hedged it about with a lot of mystic hocus-pocus. +About all that is definitely known is that a mysterious red powder +figured prominently in the process. The red powder was mixed with +mercury and fluid borax, and the concoction was then put in a crucible +and stirred with an iron rod. The result was gold.” + +“The iron rod must have been a magic scepter,” suggested Cole dryly. + +“Perhaps; anyway the Royal Society of England got interested in Price’s +experiments and made an investigation. A committee of England’s +foremost scientists went to his laboratory, firmly expecting to expose +Price as a faker or lunatic. I can imagine the long, bewhiskered faces +of those learned old fogies when they put the gold through an assaying +process and found that it proved genuine in every respect.” + +Cole’s pupils dilated a trifle, but he looked still dubious. + +“What I have told you is a matter of history, amply documented and +supported by incontrovertible evidence,” declared Miss Brownell. “There +can be no doubt but that Price produced a form of gold that proved +genuine on assay. I am now coming to the strangest part of the story. +Having solved this problem, that has tantalized scientific minds since +the beginning of history, Price turned a sort of mental somersault. +Just what happened to him has never become definitely known. Some +still insist that he was a faker, despite the tests that were made. +Others believe that his mind collapsed under the strain, and that he +went insane. That seems to be nature’s way of punishing those who peep +behind the curtain of the unknown, and Price was neither the first nor +the last to go mad on the subject of gold. Still others think that +gold became an obsession with him, a sort of monomania, and that he +could not endure the thought of sharing his discovery with others. Then +there are those who cling to the theory that his production of gold was +nothing but an accident.” + +“What happened?” asked Cole. + +“The committee of scientists wanted to learn Price’s formula and asked +him to repeat the experiment in their presence. Price refused on the +pretext that his supply of red powders was exhausted. Shortly afterward +he committed suicide by drinking laurel water. It has been generally +supposed that his secret died with him. His book is somewhat vague +in regard to the composition of the red powders. Repeated attempts +have been made to learn exactly what they consisted of, but without +success. Last year, however, Professor Carmody returned from abroad +after browsing in the libraries of the Old World for many months. He +brought back with him a number of faded and forgotten manuscripts, said +to be in Doctor Price’s handwriting. Where he found them, and how he +got possession of them we don’t know, but we do know that they gave him +a clew to the secret which Price guarded so jealously.” + +“How do you know?” demanded Cole. + +“Our organization has eyes and ears everywhere. However, it was mostly +through accident that we learned what was on foot. I shan’t bore you +with the details. Carmody saw a chance to become enormously rich by +manufacturing gold on a large scale, using Doctor Price’s formula. But +he needed money to swing the enterprise, and so he guardedly approached +a number of wealthy men with a scheme for multiplying their fortunes +many times. Besides he knew that he lacked the executive ability +required to engineer a project of such magnitude. He talked to Malcolm +Reeves so engagingly that Reeves was smitten with the gold fever and +supplied a great portion of the cash that he needed. No doubt he +enlisted the assistance of other rich men in a similar manner. The lure +of gold is a terrible thing, Mr. Cole.” + +“A curse,” said Cole. “But what about Latham?” + +“Latham is an extremely clever and very versatile man. Though he +practices medicine he has dabbled in various sciences. Perhaps +Carmody needed his assistance in solving some of the problems that he +encountered in working out Price’s formula. However that may be, we +know he has been very close to Professor Carmody for several weeks.” + +“Then you think Carmody is the moving spirit in the enterprise?” + +“No; Carmody merely supplied the formula and his scientific knowledge. +He is a small man, physically and mentally, with a sharp, but narrow, +intellect, and he is deficient in the qualities required to direct an +enterprise of this sort. Knowing his shortcomings, he was willing to +put the management of the project into stronger hands than his own.” + +“Latham’s, for instance?” asked Cole. + +“Or Ballinger’s. Both are very shrewd and energetic men, though I +hadn’t thought of Ballinger in that connection until to-night. It is +your job to find the master mind that is directing the operations of +this gold-mad crowd, Mr. Cole. We know that they are already producing +gold, or a substitute for gold, on a very large scale.” + +“Where?” inquired Cole quickly. + +“That’s another thing for you to find out. In some secluded spot in New +York City or its environs there is a large and fully equipped plant. +From snatches of conversation which we have overheard we know that it +exists, but we haven’t been able to locate it. We also know that the +conspirators feel confident that their product will stand every test, +that it resembles natural gold in every respect. In order to eliminate +all risk, however, they have decided to hold the gold in storage until +the desired quantity has been manufactured. You can imagine what will +happen when a golden flood is suddenly released and poured out over the +country.” + +“A few men will become enormously rich over night, and the monetary +system will be utterly disorganized. I suppose the ultimate result will +be the worst panic the world has ever seen.” + +“That’s exactly what Mr. Carlin and the others think,” declared Miss +Brownell. + +They sat silent for a time, neither looking at the other. Their minds +were stunned by the contemplation of the golden havoc which their +imagination pictured. Cole recalled the look of insane ecstasy which +he had seen in Malcolm Reeves’ face. The words, “Pretty yellow,” which +the insane man mumbled, suddenly assumed a vivid significance. He shook +himself a little. + +“I suppose Reeves had a falling out with the others,” he remarked. +“That’s why they first destroyed his mind and afterward killed him.” + +“Presumably.” Her eyes looked a little dim, as if they had gazed too +long upon a dazzling vision. “It was about Reeves I was thinking +just before I walked in here and disturbed you. I was wondering why +Ballinger didn’t commit the murder. He had free access to the place and +nobody had any suspicions against him. Why was it necessary to have the +hunchback sneak in here and do it?” + +“I think the answer to that question is fairly clear.” Cole’s smile +seemed to say that women, even the cleverest of them, were rather +simple-minded at times. “The job had to be done by an outsider in +order to conceal the fact that the conspirators had an associate in +your midst.” + +“But they didn’t conceal it. The ease with which the hunchback got in +and out proved clearly that he was assisted by some one on the inside.” + +“That’s so,” admitted Cole, somewhat abashed. “Well, then it’s quite +likely that Ballinger balked at the job. Murder is pretty nasty +business. It is a coarser crime than depriving a man of his reason. +Many criminals of the intellectual type shrink from it.” + +“Maybe that was the way of it. There’s another thing that has been +troubling me lately. Who do you think performed the operation on +Reeves?” + +Cole stared at her for an instant. “It seems to be pretty well +established that Doctor Latham was the man.” + +“Yes, I know that’s what they all seem to think. Their reason is that +Reeves seemed to recognize Ballinger when he was made up to resemble +Latham.” + +“It was more than recognition. The sight of Ballinger made up as Latham +fairly terrified the poor man. I’ll never forget how he looked.” + +“But isn’t that a flimsy reason for supposing that Latham performed the +operation?” + +Cole leaned out of his chair and regarded her closely, as if wondering +whether her intuition was once more at work. “Can you imagine any other +explanation for the way Reeves acted that night?” + +“Yes; can’t you?” + +Cole shook his head ponderously. + +“Just think about it,” she said, smiling faintly; then she rose and +walked out of the room. + +For a long time Cole sat very still, with a thoughtful pucker across +his forehead. Once, from force of habit, he reached for his pipe, +frowning when he realized it wasn’t there. Now and then he bent a +quizzical gaze on the chair which Miss Brownell had vacated. + +“What the deuce did she mean?” he mumbled. “What else is there to——” + +With a jerky motion he sat erect in his chair. He gave the desk in +front of him a vigorous thump. + +“By Jove, she wins!” he declared. “There is another explanation. It’s +beginning to look as though——” He checked himself, scowling. “But that +only muddles the situation. What’s the good of an explanation that +doesn’t explain. But I suppose a woman can’t see it that way. They’re +all alike, from Toots down.” + +He shrugged as if to banish unprofitable speculations. He suddenly +remembered that there had been weighty things on his mind when Miss +Brownell interrupted his thoughts. He had given several orders to the +men, and he had been studying what to do with the body of Reeves, and +how he might make the most of his discovery that Doctor Ballinger was +the traitor. He jumped from the chair as the physician’s name ran +through his mind. For half an hour or more he had given not a single +thought to Ballinger. He hurried from the office and crossed the +corridor, but a glance into the smoking room reassured him. Ballinger +was sprawled out leisurely in an armchair, evidently in the midst of +an anecdote which he seemed to be relating with great gusto to his +companion. + +Cole went farther down the corridor and rapped on the door to Miss +Brownell’s private room. “Wish you would keep an eye on Ballinger for a +while,” he whispered when she opened. She lifted her brows in a knowing +way and nodded. In the main office he found Carlin bent over a stack of +papers. The man seemed a veritable dynamo of energy. + +“I’ve been thinking about Reeves,” he said. + +Carlin looked up and took an obese cigar from his mouth. “What do you +suggest?” + +“That we obey the spirit of the law and blink the letter. The ends of +justice will be met if the murderer is convicted and punished. It won’t +be necessary to drag all the embarrassing details into light.” + +“How can it be avoided?” + +“I have a plan, but, before I go any farther, I would like to see the +body.” + +The lawyer got up. “I would have shown it to you when I took you over +the place, but Miss Brownell was with us then, and you know how women +are about such things.” + +He led the way from the room, and they went to the end of the corridor. +There Carlin opened a door, and they stepped in. It was dark, and Cole +could see nothing. He heard a slight scraping sound, as the lawyer ran +his hand over the wall in search of a switch. Then a light flashed on. +Carlin raised an arm and pointed. + +“There,” he said a trifle thickly, indicating a shape spread out on a +cot at the farther side of the room. + +Cole walked up to the cot and looked down at the dead man. He jerked +back a little as his glance fell on the lifeless face. Then he bent +over the body and gazed fixedly into the rigid features. Finally he +stood up and turned to Carlin, who had remained behind. + +“When did you last see the body?” he inquired, and his voice sounded a +trifle husky. + +“Why, I think it was this morning. Yes, that was it, about ten o’clock +this morning. Why do you ask?” + +“Because—— But see for yourself.” + +With a wondering glance at the detective, Carlin crossed the floor. He +looked down at the motionless figure, and suddenly he shrank back a +step. A husky exclamation sounded in his throat, then he slowly raised +his eyes, and for a long moment the two men stared blankly at each +other. + +“It—it isn’t Reeves!” stammered the lawyer. + +“No—it isn’t Reeves!” echoed Cole. + + + + + CHAPTER XVII + + IN ROOM 2512 + + +Cole had recognized the dead man at a glance. + +It was McKendrick, the young operative whom he had instructed to trace +down the dictaphone wire. That had been only an hour ago, and already +death had blotted out the whimsical expression about the mouth that had +attracted Cole to him from the first. + +“Shot through the head,” muttered Cole, noticing a crimson stain just +above the left temple. “He hasn’t been dead more than fifteen or twenty +minutes.” + +He turned and looked out through the crack of the open door. A laugh +sounded in the direction of the smoking room. Perhaps Doctor Ballinger +had just told another funny story. Cole closed the door. + +“This shows there are no limits to the rascality of those blackguards,” +said the lawyer. “But I don’t see why they should kill McKendrick.” + +Cole explained the errand on which he had dispatched the young +detective. “No doubt McKendrick made an important discovery of some +kind,” he added. “That’s probably why he was killed. He must have been +overpowered, either while getting his facts or on his way back here to +report. Probably the latter; that would explain why the body was taken +here. The murderer wanted to conceal his crime as long as possible, and +for a temporary hiding place this room served as well as any other. We +must find out whether Ballinger has been absent from the smoking room +during the last hour or so.” + +The lawyer seemed dazed. “But the other body? What happened to it?” + +“You are sure it was here this morning?” + +“Positive.” + +“Could any one have taken it down the private elevator without being +seen?” + +“Impossible. Even if such a thing could be done, which is unthinkable, +it is a ticklish job to transport a body through the streets. It is not +yet midnight.” + +“Is there any other exit?” + +“Only the stairs leading to the roof.” + +“Then it is a safe bet that the body of Reeves was taken out that way. +From the roof it could have been slipped down a fire escape in the +rear, and from there—Heaven only knows!” + +“But why should such a thing be done? What object could any one have in +doing it?” + +“I don’t know, Carlin. I can only make a hazy guess. Being a lawyer +you know better than I do that, with the body missing, it will be +hard to prove the murder of Reeves. I believe the law covering murder +cases provides that, when the _corpus delicti_ cannot be proven, +the commission of the crime must be established by direct, not +circumstantial, evidence. Isn’t that correct?” + +“Substantially, yes.” + +“And, as I understand it, nobody saw the crime committed. Consequently +there can be no direct testimony in regard to the murder. It appears +that the men we are fighting are playing a very shrewd game.” + +The lawyer tried to pull himself together. “But isn’t it your idea that +the men who instigated the murder of Reeves are also responsible for +McKendrick’s death?” + +“Presumably?” + +“Then why, after going to all that trouble to cover up the first crime, +did they leave the evidence of the second murder in plain sight?” + +“Looks a bit contradictory, doesn’t it?” Cole squinted abstractedly at +the form on the cot. It seemed as though the murderers of McKendrick, +in placing the body in the identical spot where that of Reeves had +lain, had gone out of their way to add a spectacular touch to their +crime. “But you may be sure of one thing,” he added. “They had good +reasons for doing what they did. There isn’t any doubt——” + +He stopped short, and Carlin gave him a puzzled look. + +“Yes, that must be it,” Cole went on in an undertone. “The reason for +what they did is to be found in the one thing that differentiates the +murder of Reeves from that of McKendrick.” + +“And what’s that?” + +“Reeves was operated upon before he was murdered; McKendrick was not.” + +Carlin seemed unable to follow this line of reasoning. + +“If there should be an autopsy,” Cole explained, “it might be +discovered that an atrocious operation had been performed on Reeves +before his death. Such an operation could have been performed only by a +skilled surgeon. It would be deduced that the operation and the murder +were perpetrated by the same parties. That would reduce the range of +suspicion down to one class of individuals, surgeons. So, you see, the +body of Reeves constituted a clew to the identity of his murderers.” + +Carlin gave him an admiring glance. “First rate!” he applauded. “I’m +glad you are doing the heavy thinking for us.” + +“You would have seen it yourself if you hadn’t been upset to-night,” +said Cole modestly. “By the way, it’s just as well not to let the news +of this fresh outrage get out among the men at present. Wish you would +show me the stairs to the roof.” + +They left the room, and the lawyer locked the door. A short distance +down the corridor they met Miss Brownell, and Cole recalled that he had +asked her to keep an eye on the physician. Her lips tightened as he +briefly whispered what had happened. + +“Do you know whether Ballinger was absent from the smoking room for any +length of time during the last hour and a half?” he added. + +“He went out for cigars,” said Miss Brownell. “He explained that his +case was empty, and he smokes only his special brand. When he returned +he accounted for his long absence by saying that most of the cigar +stores in the neighborhood were closed.” + +“That explanation is worthy of the doctor,” said Cole. “It’s plausible +and yet simple. A more involved one might have got him into +difficulties, if he should have been checked up on it afterward. Please +watch him, Miss Brownell. If by any chance he should leave, have one of +the men follow him. Now, Carlin.” + +The lawyer and Cole stepped into the main office. Suddenly Cole seemed +to recall something. He went to the ventilator shaft which contained +the dictaphone that had cost McKendrick his life. He touched the disk, +and a low mutter escaped him as he found that the wire had been cut. +About a foot and a half of it was dangling from the disk. He turned and +told Carlin what he had discovered. + +“Something made them suspicious,” he added. “They cut the wire so we +wouldn’t be able to trace it.” + +“They did that after murdering McKendrick,” suggested the lawyer. + +“Without a doubt. McKendrick, if he were alive, could probably tell us +where the wire terminated. Now we will have a look at the roof.” + +But the door opened just then, and the man who entered was the +operative whom Cole had instructed to search the establishment for +hidden dictaphones. He reported that he had found four in as many +different rooms, but in each instance the wires had been cut. Cole +thanked him and dismissed him. + +“It’s a safe bet that all those wires were cut within the last hour or +so,” he told the lawyer. + +Carlin led him to the farther end of the office. There he opened a door +and indicated a steep flight of stairs. He was about to proceed up the +stairs, but Cole held him back. + +“Wait, Carlin.” Cole took an electric flash light from his pocket and +turned the gleam on the steps. They looked as if they had not been +swept in a long while. He stooped low to examine a number of marks in +the thick layer of dust. Drawing a magnifying lens from his pocket +and slowly moving the electric torch up and down, he made a careful +inspection of the lower steps. + +“Two sets of footprints,” he declared. “One set is fairly large and +broad-toed, a number nine and a half shoe, I should say. The other +is a size and a half smaller, also narrower. This tends to show that +McKendrick was followed when he came down from the roof.” + +“Why do you suppose he was permitted to leave the roof?” inquired the +lawyer. + +“Because the murderer couldn’t aim in the dark. He wanted to make a +sure job of it. Probably McKendrick didn’t know he was followed down +the stairs. Likely as not the shot wasn’t fired until he got down to +the main office. It’s even possible the murder wasn’t committed until +he was out in the corridor. That would explain why the murderer chose +the room at the end of the hall as a temporary hiding place for the +body. If the shooting took place in the corridor, he had to drag or +carry it only a few steps.” + +Cole pocketed his flash and lens, and they started up the stairs. + +“But wouldn’t the shot have been heard?” asked Carlin. + +“Not if the weapon was equipped with a silencer. The smell of the +burned powder was probably sucked up very quickly by the automatic +ventilators.” + +Carlin opened a trapdoor overhead, and they stepped out on the roof. Up +there all was wind and gloom. Their footsteps creaked dismally against +the gritty surface. All around them loomed the ghostly shapes of tall +buildings. Masses of clouds hung scowling over their heads, and there +was a suspicion of moisture in the air. + +Cole stepped to the fire escape in the rear, the lawyer following. They +looked down over the parapet into a wide court flanked by murky walls. +“Yes,” said Carlin, more to himself than to his companion, “the body of +Reeves was probably carried down this fire escape. It could have been +done.” + +Cole nodded. “I wonder,” he said abstractedly, “how far down it was +carried?” + +“Have you any reason for supposing that it wasn’t carried clear down to +the ground?” + +“No, only a hunch, and most hunches are ridiculous. They go contrary to +facts and logic. But just now I am more interested in what happened to +McKendrick. He must have discovered something very important to warrant +the scoundrels killing him. I wonder what it could have been.” + +“The other end of the wire, of course.” + +“Something more than that, I think.” Cole gazed down the long stretch +of flights and landings that composed the fire escape. “Criminals of +that type never kill without good cause. Not because they shrink from +murder on moral or humanitarian grounds, but because it is dangerous +and inexpedient. McKendrick must have discovered something that—— By +the way, Carlin, I suppose The Unknown Seven controls the renting of +offices in this building? You told me once that it is property of the +organization.” + +“It is, but the members individually have nothing to do with the +management of the building. That is handled through a separate +corporation. Why do you ask?” + +“No particular reason. Those infernal hunches are bothering me more +than usual to-night. Suppose you wait here while I investigate.” + +Before the lawyer could answer, Cole had flung himself over the parapet +and was gliding down the fire escape with the agility of a chimpanzee. +On the first landing he stopped and once more took out his electric +flash and magnifying lens. Then he turned to the window and carefully +examined the frame in the neighborhood of the fastenings. Tiny marks, +that had a fresh appearance, told him they had been tampered with not +so long ago. McKendrick, following the winding course of the dictaphone +wire, had probably passed through this same window. + +In a few moments Cole was inside. Before him stretched a long hall with +doors on either side; but the one to his left was the only one that +interested him. He looked for a moment at the numerals 2512 and the +lettering on the frosted pane. Once before in the past twelve hours the +same sign had confronted him. While tracing Englebreth’s movements in +the early afternoon Cole had come to this same door, and then he had +turned back in the belief that nothing could be gained by going farther. + +“Bureau of Civic Research,” he read, wondering whether McKendrick had +followed the course of the wire through this same door. Cole had no +particular reason for thinking so, for at least twenty other doors +opened into the same hall. Yet, in view of Englebreth’s apparent +familiarity with Cole’s movements during the past few days, he could +not help wondering. If the dictaphone wire had extended into suite +2512, then the source of Englebreth’s information was clear. + +But the theory explained nothing else, and Cole had no proof that the +wire had entered the office of the Bureau of Civic Research. His only +clew was the scratches on the window frame, and they merely indicated +that McKendrick had been on this floor. For all Cole knew, the young +operative might have continued his search farther down. + +Yet the door continued to tantalize him. With a glance over his +shoulder to see if perchance a watchman was near, he tried the knob. +As he had expected, the door was locked, but he stooped and looked +closely at the little circle of brass that formed the outer portion +of the spring lock. The hall light was dim, so he once more took out +his electric flash. Close to the center of the circle, just beside +the keyhole, he saw a slight scratch. It was almost certain now that +McKendrick had picked the lock and passed through the door. + +From his pocket Cole drew a bunch of carefully selected keys. Soon the +door was open, and he walked in and quickly closed it behind him. Then +he took out his flash, not thinking it safe to turn on the light, and +made a swift inspection of the premises. + +There were two rooms, a larger and a smaller one. After a glance over +the floor and walls, Cole’s face fell. The thing which he had vaguely +and without much reason expected to find was not there. It was just +an ordinary suite of offices, containing the ordinary set of office +furniture. A glance into the filing cabinets left him in no doubt as to +the bona-fide character of the Bureau of Civic Research. + +On one of the desks in the inner office were several typewritten +letters. At the top of each sheet were printed the name of the concern +and a list of its officers, and he noticed that Englebreth was +mentioned as one of the honorary vice presidents. The letters had, in +fact, been dictated by Englebreth, for in the lower left-hand corner +of each one were the initials HE-MS. No doubt he had dictated them +that afternoon and expected to sign them later. A glance told Cole +that they pertained to political matters and dealt in detail with the +availability of a certain candidate for alderman. + +He put the letters down. They confirmed a theory that he had formed +that afternoon that the Bureau of Civic Research was a hobby of +Englebreth’s. Like many another rich man, his former client presumably +felt the need of justifying his existence in some way. Cole felt +satisfied on that point, but there were other doubts in his mind. +It was just possible that the rooms of the bureau were being used +clandestinely by persons who were in the habit of sneaking in there +at night. Being close to the fire escape they were within easy +reach of the headquarters of The Unknown Seven. The guess was rather +far-fetched, but it seemed to explain several things. + +Knowing that Carlin was waiting for him on the roof, and seeing that +his quest was unavailing, Cole put out his flash and moved toward the +door. He had advanced only a few steps when something prompted him to +halt. A vague impression that some one had stopped outside the door +came to him. He tiptoed to a corner of the room and waited. Presently +he heard a key grate in the lock, and then the door came open. It was +beginning to look as though his suspicions had been correct, that +persons other than the regular tenants were visiting the offices at +night. + +A light appeared in the outer room. Next he heard some one move across +the floor. From his position, in the corner of the inner office, Cole +could not see who the newcomer was, and he did not care to make his own +presence known just yet. + +The footsteps were coming toward him, and Cole pressed close to the +corner, as a figure appeared in the doorway. The footfalls gave him a +queer sensation. He thought he recognized the plopping little sounds, +suggestive of a walker who, instead of putting most of his weight on +his heels, places his entire foot on the ground at once. + +While still within the doorway the newcomer reached out a hand and +touched a switch on the inner wall. In the light that suddenly +appeared, Cole saw that he had identified the footfalls accurately. The +man was Professor Carmody, and Cole’s eyes narrowed as he recognized +him. The scientist wore a faded silk hat and a long overcoat, just +as Cole had seen him when he walked into Doctor Latham’s house the +day before, and under his arm he carried a large umbrella. He walked +straight to the middle of the office before he saw Cole, and then he +stopped so abruptly that it seemed as if his gaunt form would topple +over. + +“Hello,” he said, staring out of his small, mouse-colored eyes. His +long nose, much too large for symmetry, was turned up, and his parted +lips showed two rows of yellow teeth. He was plainly embarrassed, and +to conceal the fact he grinned ostentatiously. + +“Good evening, professor,” said Cole, stepping forward. Though this was +their first meeting at close quarters, he had reason to believe that +Carmody knew who he was. Miss Brownell, he recalled, had told him that +the professor was well aware that Cole had been watching him from a +distance for some time. + +“Are you connected with the Bureau of Civic Research, professor?” Cole +went on. + +“In a way, yes,” said Carmody. He had a very thin voice that had a +habit of rising to a shrill pitch, or falling to a faint murmur, +without regard to what he was saying. He peered at Cole in an +apologetic way. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you +before.” + +“Don’t you know who I am?” + +Carmody wagged his head. “I can’t say that I do.” + +“Too bad, professor. I was in hopes that you would remember me. One +doesn’t like to ask favors of strangers.” + +“Favors?” Carmody’s face took on a forbidding frown. “You wish to ask a +favor of me?” + +“Just a slight one. There is a book in your library that is very hard +to obtain, and I am very anxious to read it. The author is one James +Price.” + +The professor looked at him hard and long. “You are mistaken,” he said +finally in a very low tone. “The author whom you mention is not in my +collection. May I ask what led you to think that I own the book in +question?” + +“A little bird told me.” + +“You take your information from curious sources.” + +“One has to, sometimes. By the way, professor, aren’t you keeping +rather queer office hours? It is, let me see, a quarter past one.” + +“I might ask the same question of yourself.” + +“That’s so; you might.” + +“I might also ask what you are doing here. It is my impression that you +do not belong on the premises.” + +“Hope I am not in the way. Please go ahead and attend to whatever +business brought you here.” + +But Carmody seemed in no hurry. Cole could not know whether it was +because he had abundant leisure on his hands, or because he did not +care to attend to his business in another man’s presence, but it was +evident that the professor was not disposed to gratify his curiosity. +Now and then his mousey little eyes moved furtively about the room, +and once they rested in a designing way on one of the flat-top desks. +Cole, following his glance, was vaguely puzzled. + +“Pardon me, but aren’t you trespassing?” inquired Carmody after a pause. + +Cole folded his arms and smiled genially. “You are not going to order +me out, I hope?” + +“Suppose I should do that?” + +“I would overlook your rudeness and refuse to take the hint. If you +insisted, I might invite you to try to put me out. If you should make +such an attempt and fail at it, I would suggest calling the police to +your assistance. But I don’t think you will go that far, professor. You +might be called upon to explain your own presence here, and that would +prove embarrassing.” + +There was a calculating gleam in Carmody’s eyes. Cole, with a picture +in his mind of Carlin waiting for him impatiently on the roof, was +anxious to bring the interview to a climax. He had no intention of +leaving until he had learned the object of the professor’s visit. + +Once more Carmody looked stealthily about the room, and again his +glance rested on the desk. Cole’s lids narrowed, as he perceived that +the desk, which seemed to be the object of the professor’s interest, +was the one on which lay Englebreth’s unfinished letters. There +were three other desks in the room, so it seemed odd that Carmody +should center his attention on this particular one. Cole had already +discovered that the drawers were empty, and that the desk contained +nothing except the papers lying on top. Strange though it seemed, it +looked as though the scientist’s visit to the office at this late hour +was in some way concerned with the letters Englebreth had dictated that +afternoon. + +The theory seemed rather far-fetched, so Cole decided to test it. He +moved leisurely about the room a few times, then stopped before the +desk at which the professor’s sly glances had been directed. In a +casual manner he picked up the letters, looked hastily at two or three, +then folded them across the middle and stuck them into his pocket. + +He knew, even before the letters reached his pocket, that his suspicion +had been well founded. Carmody had watched his every move with growing +excitement. His expression had changed from bewilderment to dismay, and +finally his face took on a look of sullen determination. + +“What are you doing with those letters?” he demanded. + +“Taking them home,” said Cole easily, at the same time moving toward +the door. + +“Wait!” said the professor sternly. + +Cole turned around and watched him with amusement. “What’s the matter?” +he asked innocently. “What are these letters to you?” + +“You shall not leave this office with them. Give them to me at once.” + +He reached out a hand, and Cole saw that it trembled. Evidently he +was desperately intent upon obtaining possession of the letters. Cole +was at a loss to understand, for he knew that the epistles dealt with +political affairs that could be of no vital concern to a man like the +professor. + +“Don’t excite yourself,” he said quietly. “There’s nothing in these +letters that would interest you. They contain nothing but dry political +rot. What do you care about that sort of thing?” + +“Are you going to surrender them?” demanded Carmody, and the words +sounded like an ultimatum. + +“I’ll promise to consider it if you will tell me why you want them.” + +The professor regarded him queerly. A look of bewilderment crossed his +sullenly determined face. His crafty little eyes seemed to be trying to +read Cole’s hidden thoughts. “Why pretend you don’t know?” he asked; +then, in wheedling tones: “Come now! The joke has gone far enough. I +know you are only trying to tease an old man. The letters, please.” + +Cole shook his head. Carmody’s very insistence upon obtaining the +letters was reason enough why Cole should not give them up. Once more +he started for the door, but a sharp “Wait!” interrupted his progress. + +Cole turned slowly and looked into the barrel of a pistol in Carmody’s +hand. + +“My dear friend,” said the professor in his softest, lowest tones, +“please do not force me to take drastic measures. It would grieve me +exceedingly to have to deal harshly with you. The letters, please!” + + + + + CHAPTER XVIII + + THE LIGHT IN THE WINDOW + + +Cole’s only response to Professor Carmody’s soft-spoken ultimatum was a +smile. He knew that the scientist was the kind of foe who is the most +dangerous when he uses his gentlest tones. It struck him as droll that +he was risking his life for the sake of a few letters which, as far as +he could see, he could put to no earthly use. He would not know what +to do with them even if he should be able to depart with them safely. +It was only Carmody’s earnestness in the matter that convinced him the +letters must have a hidden significance. + +“Well, professor,” he said easily, “it looks like a deadlock. I don’t +want to give up the letters, and you seem in no hurry to shoot.” + +The professor smiled still more blandly and took a tighter grip on the +pistol. Cole believed he would shoot rather than see him depart with +the letters. There was a certain grimness about the gaunt form and the +sallow face which warned him that Carmody was playing a desperate game +for high stakes. As often happens in tense moments, his mind turned to +trivial things. He pictured Carlin waiting peevishly on the roof. He +imagined Ballinger in the midst of another humorous yarn. A ludicrous +vision of the hunchback, chained to the operating table in Doctor +Latham’s house, flitted through his mind. + +But the pistol in Carmody’s hand baffled him. He felt no fear, but +neither did he care to throw his life away needlessly. Once before in +the past forty-eight hours he had looked into the muzzle of a pistol, +but that one had been in Doctor Latham’s hand. He had laughed then +and dared the physician to shoot, knowing that Latham, whatever other +villainies he might be guilty of, was not the type that can shoot down +a defenseless man in cold blood. He was too proud and high-spirited for +that. With Carmody it was different. The professor was made of coarser +stuff. He was not hampered by considerations of chivalry and fair play. +He would shoot as soon as Cole’s back was turned. + +And so he restrained the impulse to laugh in the professor’s face and +walk away. He preferred to bide his chance and watch for a sign of +wavering in the hand that held the pistol. Growing tired of waiting, he +decided to try a little stratagem that he had found successful in the +past. It was a simple trick and based on one of the many queer antics +of the human mind. + +He looked away from the pistol and began to gaze fixedly at a point on +the opposite wall. Moments passed and grew into minutes, and still he +stared rigidly, not a muscle in his face moving. His eyes were slanting +upward, at a level of about a foot and a half above the professor’s +head. The latter could not see what he was looking at, for he dared +not turn his head, knowing that Cole would jump the moment he did +so. At first he was mildly puzzled. Then his face showed signs of +bewilderment. His curiosity changed into nervous concern. + +By and by he seemed plainly worried. It was evident that Cole’s fixed +and silent scrutiny of something which the professor could not see was +seriously affecting his nerves. + +Cole’s rapt expression did not change in the slightest degree. He just +looked and looked at that blank point somewhere behind the professor’s +back and just above his head. Carmody grew more and more disconcerted. +A tension, which he was doing his best to check, was taking hold of +him. He shifted from one foot to the other. A sense of something weird +and unaccountable was stealing over him, despite his scientific poise +of mind. + +At last came the chance for which Cole had waited. It was merely an +uneasy flicker in Carmody’s eyes, accompanied by a slight turn of +the head. It was not much, but Cole knew that, for the moment, the +professor’s mind was diverted from the pistol. It was risky, but he +might not get another chance. He flexed his muscles, and leaped, first +to one side, then straight at Carmody, wrenching the pistol from his +hand. + +A squeallike cry broke from the professor’s lips. Cole chuckled as he +ran. The scientist started in pursuit, but Cole slammed the door in +his face. In another instant, putting the pistol in his pocket, he was +climbing through the window. Soon he was hurrying up the fire escape. A +dark figure, with coat tails flapping in the wind, hastened toward him, +as he swung over the parapet and landed on the roof. + +“Where on earth have you been?” asked Carlin reproachfully. “I was just +on the point of going down to look for you.” + +“Is there a man on the staff who understands ciphers?” inquired Cole, +taking the lawyer’s arm and hurrying him down from the roof. + +“Ciphers? Why, yes. Findlay Abbott is one of the best cipher experts in +the country. What do you want of him?” + +“Find him and send him to my office,” said Cole hurriedly. Leaving the +bewildered lawyer several paces behind, he ran down the corridor and +entered his office. He had been there only a few moments when Abbott, a +fat and pink-faced little man, trundled in. Behind him walked Carlin. +Cole took the letters from his pocket and handed them to the expert. + +“See if you can make anything out of these, Abbott,” he directed. “All +I know about them is that they are so important to one man that he was +ready to shoot me on account of them. They may be in code.” + +Abbott looked as though he relished the task. He sat down, wiped his +spectacles, and fell to work. In the meantime Cole told the lawyer of +the episode in room 2512. + +Carlin’s eyes popped as he listened. He glanced with keen interest +at the papers under Abbott’s nose. “You don’t think the offices of +the Bureau of Civic Research are the headquarters of the gang we are +fighting?” + +“No,” said Cole thoughtfully. “In the morning you might inquire of +your agent how long the bureau has been located there. From what I +saw, though, it looked as though the concern was on the square. It’s +more likely that certain parties are using the offices as a listening +post, because of their close proximity to this establishment. Knowing +that we are fighting them, those fellows naturally want to find out how +much we know and what our plans are. I have a strong suspicion that the +dictaphone wires ran into the rooms below. What do you make of those +letters, Abbott?” + +But Abbott was too deeply engrossed in his task to hear the question. +The other two watched him in silence for a time. His puckered brow told +that the letters presented a knotty problem. Finally he looked up. + +“No code here,” he declared. “These are just ordinary letters.” + +“Sure of that?” demanded Cole sharply. + +“As sure as one can be of anything. I’ll wager my salary for the next +ten years that these are just plain letters.” + +“Then why did Carmody——” Cole suddenly gave the desk a resounding +thwack. A light of comprehension dawned in his eyes. “I take my hat +off to the professor. He is a slick little trickster. He wanted to get +me away from there, having private business to attend to, and so he +pulled the wool over my eyes and made me think that these letters were +a matter of life or death. Carlin, I’m a boob!” + +He bounded from the office, leaving the lawyer and Abbott to stare +at each other. He was angry, but only with himself. For the crafty +professor he felt an unwilling admiration, but he was also determined +not to let Carmody have the last laugh. + +The discovery that Englebreth’s letters were genuine had given him a +sharp mental jolt. A suspicion had been gradually assuming shape and +clarity in his mind, but the cipher expert’s report had uprooted it +completely. All that those letters now meant to Cole was a wasted hour +and a sense of humiliation. + +He hurried up to the roof, then down the fire escape, and soon he +stood once more outside the door of room 2512. Carmody had had ample +time to dispose of whatever business had brought him there, but it was +just possible that he had not yet left, so Cole entered as quietly as +he could. The moment he closed the door behind him he knew he was too +late. The light that appeared at his touch on the button revealed two +empty rooms. + +Cole moved forward, looking sharply over walls and behind furniture. +Perhaps Carmody had accidentally left some clew to his mysterious +errand. It was even possible that Cole might get an inkling as to the +discovery that had cost McKendrick his life. He searched carefully, but +at first with no results. There were fresh, but very faint, footprints +on the floor, and he could easily locate the spot where he and Carmody +had stood, while the professor was pointing the pistol at him. Which +way had Carmody turned after Cole left the offices? The footprints +reached to the door and then back into the inner office. Evidently +Carmody had locked himself in before attending to his errand. With some +difficulty Cole traced the faint marks across the floor, muttering a +short exclamation when he found that they led straight to the safe, +standing in a corner of the room. + +Cole had given the safe only a cursory glance on his previous visit +to the office. Carmody’s entrance had prevented him from making a +more careful examination. Now he saw that the safe was one of the best +and latest makes. There was a look of freshness about the blue steel +surface and the bright nickel trimmings which suggested it had not +been there long. He remembered that this particular brand of safe, in +addition to its other advertised merits, was supposed to be air-tight +and absolutely burglar proof. It seemed rather large for a concern +whose affairs were transacted in two small rooms, but, perhaps, it had +been selected with a view to growing needs. + +The course of the footprints made it plain that Carmody’s errand had +been related to the safe in some way, but that was as far as Cole’s +deductions reached. Whether the professor had removed something from +the steel box, or put something in, he had no means of knowing, and the +locked door prevented him from gratifying his curiosity on that point. +It did not stop him from exercising his imagination, however. With a +grim nod and a tightening of the lips he made a guess in regard to +Carmody’s business with the safe. + +There was nothing more he could do for the present, so he made his +way back to the headquarters of The Unknown Seven. In the hall he met +Carlin. + +“Well?” asked the lawyer. “Found out anything?” + +“The more I find out about this case the less I know,” confessed Cole. +“All the same, I think I know what it was McKendrick saw that cost him +his life.” + +Carlin’s brows came up. + +“But I’m not going to tell you what it was,” Cole added quickly. “I may +be mistaken, you see, and I don’t propose to jeopardize my reputation +with you. By the way, there’s a new safe in number 2512, as nifty an +article of that kind as I ever saw. Pretty good size, too. Big enough +for a man of your dimensions to sit down in, Carlin.” + +“You’re not going to ask me to crawl into it, I hope?” + +“No, nothing like that. I just have a hunch that in the morning that +safe is going to be taken out of 2512.” + +“Anything unusual in that?” + +“Nothing at all, and that’s just what certain parties are counting +on, I think. There are times when it is expedient to do the unusual +thing under cover of the usual. I want you to detail a man to see what +happens to that safe, Carlin.” + +The lawyer nodded, but in the next instant his eyes opened wide in +astonishment. “You don’t think that——” + +“As I said before,” Cole interrupted, “I don’t care to risk my +reputation on a guess that may prove unfounded. Seen anything of +Ballinger lately?” + +“Not for half an hour or so. Been busy in the main office.” + +Cole gave him a keen glance. “What’s the matter, Carlin? You look +worried.” + +The lawyer forced a smile. “It’s just a—a premonition. I guess that’s +what you would call it. I have a feeling that the gang knows we are +closing in around them, and that they are getting ready to cash in. We +must strike quickly, or it will be too late.” + +“I don’t know but what you are right. I’ve felt something of the same +kind myself. We must not only strike quickly, but with both fists.” As +if he had meant it literally, Cole looked down at his clenched hands. + +“But where, Cole? Where are we going to strike? We don’t know who the +leader of the gang is. That is, we can’t be sure. We don’t know where +the plant is located. We don’t even know——” + +“You make me dizzy,” said Cole with a chuckle, and then he turned +abruptly and walked into his private office. There he pressed a button, +and in a few moments Sambo entered. + +“Ask Miss Brownell to step in here,” Cole told the big negro. + +Sambo’s eyes opened wide, showing a generous expanse of white. “Why, +she done lef’ a hour ago, sah. She went out in a mighty rush, too.” + +“Sure of that, Sambo?” + +“Course I’s sure. I seed her mahself. It was just after Doc Ballinger +lef’, sah.” + +“Doctor Ballinger?” + +“Yes, sah. The doc looked lahk he was wurried. The wurriedest man I +eveh seed, sah. He tried not to let on, but he didn’t fool mah a-tall, +sah.” + +“And you say Miss Brownell left shortly afterward?” + +“Yes, sah. Not more’n a minute, sah.” + +Cole jumped up from his chair. For a moment he stared at the gigantic +negro, then waved a hand in dismissal. He had instructed Miss Brownell +to put one of the men on Ballinger’s trail, in case the physician +should go out. Now it seemed evident that the girl herself had started +out to shadow the doctor. Cole could only hope that her audacity would +not lead her into trouble. His acquaintance with women had been only +casual, and he had an impression that they either fainted in a crisis, +or else burst into tears. Miss Brownell was, of course, a variant from +the usual type, but just the same—— + +Cole sat down again. After all, he could do nothing for the present, +and Miss Brownell seemed to have a surprising capacity for taking care +of herself. He would stay close to the telephone, and, in due time, +she would undoubtedly call him up. He waited, but the instrument at +his side remained tantalisingly silent. When at length it shrilled a +summons, he jumped nervously. + +But the person calling was not Miss Brownell. Instead, it was Sloane, +the operative whom Cole had detailed to watch Doctor Latham’s +residence. Latham and the hunchback had been far from his mind for +several hours. + +“What is it, Sloane?” he asked quietly. + +Sloane reported that for the last hour a mysterious light had appeared +at intervals in one of the windows of the doctor’s house. It might mean +anything or nothing, and Sloane did not know what to make of it, so he +was telephoning in for instructions. + +“Stay where you are,” Cole told him. “I’ll be with you in a little +while.” + +For a few moments longer he sat at the desk, his mind working quickly. +It was just possible that at Latham’s house he would find some clew to +the movements of Ballinger and Miss Brownell. There was a fog in his +mind, the result of too many conflicting developments, but there were a +few things that seemed clear. + +Soon he was out on the street. In less than half an hour he reached +the corner nearest Latham’s house and walked east on the opposite side +of the street. He cast sharp glances into the shadows along the row of +buildings. Suddenly he stopped. “Sloane,” he said in a low tone. + +The scholarly looking operative stepped out of a gloomy doorway. “Glad +you came, sir,” he whispered. “Things look queer.” + +“What about the light you mentioned?” + +“It comes and goes, every two minutes or so. Look! There it is!” + +He pointed to a window on the second floor of the physician’s +residence. A small, flickering light had just appeared. It wavered +for a few moments, then faded out. The two men waited in silence, and +presently the mysterious light came back. All the other windows were +dark, and the solitary glow had an eerie look. + +“Stay here,” said Cole. “Don’t move unless I signal you by whistling +three times from one of the windows.” + +Briskly he crossed the street. A bunch of skeleton keys rattled in his +hand, as he vanished from sight in the dark basement entrance. + + + + + CHAPTER XIX + + A WARNING + + +Very softly Cole crept up the stairs. On the ground floor he stopped +for a moment and listened. A heavy silence seemed to hover over the +entire house. He stole up another flight of stairs and turned toward a +door in front. The knob turned noiselessly in his hand, but the door +was locked. He stooped and tried to peep through the keyhole, but he +could see nothing. + +A few moments passed; then a slight scratching sound, like that +produced when a match is struck, was heard within. At the same time a +faint glow was visible through the keyhole. It lasted for ten seconds +or so, and then all was darkness again. It was evident now that the +intermittent glow which Cole had seen from the sidewalk had been +produced by some one striking a number of matches. + +Suddenly he stood erect, listening. For a moment he thought he had +heard a slight sound, coming from somewhere below, but apparently he +had been mistaken. He had entered so quietly that it did not seem +possible Doctor Latham’s sleep could have been disturbed by his +movements. Again he fixed his attention on the door, for once more +a scrrrrch came from the room. Through the keyhole, just before the +fluttering light went out, he caught a glimpse of the hunchback. + +Cole was puzzled. What could the hunchback be doing, and what did +the frequent striking of matches mean? He waited, uncertain what to +do, but strongly tempted to open the door with one of his skeleton +keys. Moments passed, and he listened in vain for further repetitions +of the scratching sounds. Instead, he heard what sounded like a +half-suppressed chuckle. Evidently the hunchback had found something +that pleased him. A faint tinkle came through the keyhole, followed by +a louder sound, like that of a heavy object being dragged across the +floor. Then silence. + +Cole felt in his pockets for his bunch of keys, but he quickly withdrew +his hand and cast a glance over his shoulders. This time he knew he +was not mistaken. Some one was moving about on the floor below, but +so softly that Cole’s keen ears detected only a faint suspicion of a +sound. His eyes darted to left and right in search of a hiding place, +but the best he could find was the corner back of the stairway railing. +He pressed against the wall and crouched low. + +Some one was coming up the stairs. He was determined to learn as much +as he could before he made his presence known. The meager light from +the little electric bulb in the ceiling revealed a sweep of bald +cranium, by which he easily identified Doctor Latham. Perhaps he had +been awakened by the hunchback’s movements, or perhaps Cole’s entrance +had partly aroused him, and he had just now become fully awake. + +The doctor swept past him without a glance in his direction and moved +straight toward the room occupied by the hunchback. There he stopped, +took a key from his pocket and unlocked the door. He pushed it open +and stood in a listening attitude. Even from his remote position in the +rear of the hall, he could hear a lusty snoring. It was strange, since +he knew that the hunchback had been wide awake only a few minutes ago. +Evidently the fellow was up to a ruse of some kind. + +Suddenly Latham turned and walked quickly toward the rear. For a moment +Cole thought he had been discovered, but the doctor took only half a +dozen steps down the hall. Standing on the stairway railing he removed +the electric bulb from its socket in the ceiling, then entered the +hunchback’s room. The hall was now dark, and Cole thought it safe to +come forward. He reached the door just as a light appeared within. +Peeping through the crack between the door and the jamb he saw that the +physician had attached the bulb to a wall fixture. Now he was standing +beside the operating table to which the hunchback had been linked for +the past twenty-four hours, leaning over the motionless figure lying on +it. + +He mumbled something beneath his breath, then gave the hunchback’s +shoulder a vigorous shaking. The snoring stopped. The fellow sat up +with difficulty and rubbed his eyes with his free hand. + +“You needn’t pretend,” said Latham. He was arrayed in the same dressing +gown in which Cole had seen him once before. “I know you haven’t been +sleeping. Where did you find these matches?” + +He pointed to a litter of charred stubs on the floor. The hunchback +eyed him stolidly and shrugged his misshapen shoulders. + +The doctor’s glance went to an old battered safe in a corner of the +room. He stepped up to it and tried the lock. + +“Thought you might be tempted to while away the time by investigating +this old safe of mine,” he declared. “I removed the bulb on purpose, so +you wouldn’t make much headway with it. Not that you would have found +much if you had opened it, only a few papers.” + +Again he gazed at the charred fragments scattered over the floor. Cole, +looking through the narrow crack, saw a puzzled frown on his bearded +face. The room was small, and the conglomeration of articles in it +suggested it was used in part for storage purposes. The scattered match +stubs perplexed Cole as much as they did the doctor. + +“There might have been a box in one of the bureau drawers,” muttered +the physician. “I suppose that’s where you found them. I don’t see, +though, what pleasure you derive from burning up a lot of matches.” + +Cole was watching the hunchback’s face. A look of sly satisfaction +lurked in the sallow features. Once the fellow bent a squinting glance +on some object across the floor, but all Cole could see at that +particular point was a dilapidated trunk. His bewilderment grew. The +scene between the physician and the hunchback was not exactly what he +might have suspected. He sensed a hidden element in it. He was aware of +a curious strain and tension in the air. + +“I thought I heard you drag the table over the floor,” remarked the +doctor. “You were not doing it just for exercise. What was your idea?” + +Again a look of secret elation crossed the hunchback’s face. He jingled +the steel links that held one of his hands to the table. + +“Aw, can’t a guy move about a bit if he wants to?” he asked. “Sittin’ +still in one place all the time gets on a feller’s nerve. I didn’t do +no harm.” + +The physician regarded him searchingly. Evidently he, too, had seen +the furtive smirk in the hunchback’s face. He stepped briskly to the +operating cot and shook the fellow’s arm. + +“I’m not so sure about that,” he remarked. “You have been up to some +kind of deviltry, my man. Now——” + +The sentence ended in a gasp. In a twinkling the hunchback had wrenched +his arm free of the doctor’s grasp. Cole was amazed at the swift play +of his fingers. He could scarcely see what was happening, but a loop +fell down over the physician’s head and was tightened around his throat +with a quick jerk. He spluttered and choked, while the hunchback +snickered gleefully. + +“I got yuh now!” declared the little man, drawing the loop still +tighter. The doctor wriggled and squirmed, but the constriction at his +throat weakened his efforts. The whole scene seemed unreal to Cole. +It took him several moments to realize that Latham was being garroted +by the man who had found refuge in his house after murdering Malcolm +Reeves. + +He bounded forward, and a well-aimed blow sent the hunchback reeling +back over the operating table. The garrote, made up of two shoe laces +tied together, had bitten deep into the flesh around the doctor’s +throat. His eyes bulged, and his gaping lips were bloodless. A hoarse +rattle sounded in his throat, as he struggled for breath. + +In a short time the noose was undone, and the physician sank into a +chair. While he sucked air into his lungs in great gulps he looked +queerly at Cole. The hunchback lay sullenly silent on the table. + +“Your visit was very opportune this time,” murmured Latham, as soon as +he began to breathe more easily. “Where did you come from?” + +Cole signified with a shrug that the matter was of no importance. +“What’s gotten into this protégé of yours?” he asked with a glance at +the hunchback. “Did he go crazy all of a sudden?” + +“Oh, no; he’s as sane this moment as he ever was or ever will be. I +knew he would kill me if he got a chance, and so I did all I could to +deprive him of the opportunity.” + +There was doubt and bewilderment in Cole’s gaze. “But why should he +kill you? I thought——” + +“Yes, I think I know what you thought,” interrupted the doctor. “For +a man of keen intellect you have a singular capacity for getting +things twisted. I suppose, however, it isn’t to be wondered at under +the circumstances. Wonder where the fellow got those shoe laces. I +thought I had removed from his reach everything that might serve as an +implement of murder.” + +Cole stepped to the trunk at which the hunchback had been squinting +from time to time. He lifted the lid, and the first thing he saw was a +pair of old shoes from which the laces had been removed. + +Latham looked at him in surprise. “That trunk was locked this morning,” +he remarked. + +“The lock is a very simple one,” Cole observed. “Even a man with only +one arm could pick it without much trouble. With a supply of matches +handy, the removal of the electric bulb didn’t give him much of a +handicap. You seem to lead a very exciting life, doctor.” + +The doctor smiled. He felt quite at ease again. He got up from the +chair and strolled over to the table where the hunchback lay. + +“You are really very simple,” he declared. “Didn’t you know that +murdering me wouldn’t help you out of your predicament? Why, you would +have starved to death if you had carried out your attempt.” + +“Guess again.” The fellow leered insolently. “My pals woulda found me +before long. To-night, maybe.” + +“What’s your grudge against the doctor?” inquired Cole. “Why did you +try to kill him?” + +“Why don’t you ask him?” retorted the hunchback, wagging his head in +the physician’s direction. + +“Our friend doesn’t seem very communicative,” observed Latham. “I don’t +think he will attempt any more mischief to-night. Suppose we go down +and sample one of my cigars?” + +Cole assented, but not until he had searched the hunchback and removed +a handful of matches. He believed the doctor knew the motive behind the +murderous attempt. There was a fog in his mind, for the scene he had +just witnessed did not seem to harmonize with his previous observations. + +“You are a cool one, doctor,” he remarked when they were down in the +consultation room and the physician had passed his box of cigars. + +“Life hardens one. I sometimes wish I hadn’t lost my emotional +susceptibilities. They are the things that give color and tone to life. +Life without thrills is a barren desert.” + +Cole suddenly recalled his original errand. He bent forward and looked +the doctor full in the eyes. “There is one question I want to ask. You +may not be able or willing to answer it. Where is Miss Brownell?” + +The question acted like an electric shock on the physician, upsetting +his magnificent composure as nothing else could have done. A suspicion +of pallor crept up beneath the black beard. + +“What about her?” he demanded sharply. “Has anything happened to her?” + +Cole smiled amusedly. “For a man who has lost his emotional +susceptibilities you manage to work up quite a lot of feeling over a +simple question. You know the lady I am referring to?” + +“Why—er—slightly.” + +Cole gave him a hard, searching glance. He felt the doctor had +deliberately understated the truth. “Miss Brownell disappeared this +evening,” he announced. “I came here in the hope of learning something +of her whereabouts from you.” + +“Why from me?” Latham was laboring under a tension that he tried hard +to suppress. + +“Several trails seem to point in your direction, doctor. Do you know +what has become of Miss Brownell?” + +Latham gripped the arms of his chair. “I swear I haven’t the faintest +idea,” he declared, looking Cole straight in the eyes. + +Cole believed him. There was something in the doctor’s tone and +manner that carried conviction. He knew that for once the man was +not shamming. His gaze cut deep into the physician’s bewildering +personality, and he found not a trace of duplicity. + +“What is Miss Brownell to you?” he asked bluntly. “Not in love with +her, are you, doctor?” + +The bearded lips parted in a faint smile. “I admire her immensely. +Have known her for a long time. Was a friend of her father’s. A very +charming young person indeed. But at my age one hesitates before he +permits himself to fall in love. Besides, Miss Brownell is not likely +to entertain any romantic notions in regard to me.” + +Cole nodded thoughtfully. Despite the doctor’s light tone and airy +gestures, the real Dickson Latham stood revealed before him. + +“I understand, doctor,” he said meaningly. “I see how it is with you. +As for Miss Brownell, she left a certain place, about an hour and a +half ago, in pursuit of a colleague of yours, Doctor Ballinger.” + +A queer little mutter slipped from Latham’s lips. He clenched his hands +convulsively; his face underwent a startling transformation; a mingling +of hate and fear showed in his dark, flashing eyes. + +“That hound!” he mumbled under his breath, evidently not intending Cole +to hear. With an inward wrench he steadied himself; in the next moment +he seemed cool and composed. “In that case we must endeavor to find +her,” he added aloud. + +“More easily said than done, doctor. Have you any idea where Ballinger +might have taken her; in the event that she should have fallen into his +hands?” + +“There is one place he would naturally take her to, but I don’t know +the geographical location of it.” + +“In plain words, the headquarters of a certain gang of alchemists and +cutthroats?” + +Latham nodded. + +“You are mixed up with this gang, aren’t you, doctor?” + +“I was.” + +“And you performed an operation on Malcolm Reeves?” Cole watched him +closely to observe the effect of his question. + +“That is true,” said Latham in a queer tone. He smiled a sad, whimsical +smile. “But you must have observed that truth sometimes covers a +multitude of lies.” + +Cole pondered this cryptical statement. “One more question. Why did the +hunchback try to kill you?” + +“Some men are willing to do anything for money. But this line of talk +isn’t leading us anywhere. The thing of prime importance is to find +Miss Brownell. From what little I know of the gang, to which you +referred, I should say her life isn’t worth a plugged nickel if she has +fallen into their hands.” + +He spoke evenly, but Cole sensed an ache behind the words. “Do you +know the leader of the organization?” was his next question. + +“He was never referred to by name in my presence, and I never came in +contact with him. In my dealings with the members I never got higher +than Professor Carmody.” + +Again, despite the contradictions and discrepancies that hemmed in the +doctor’s statements, Cole was disposed to believe him. “There is no +cause for alarm just at present,” he declared. “We don’t know that Miss +Brownell is in trouble. She is a capable young woman and——” + +“Ah, but you don’t know Ballinger,” interrupted Latham. + +Cole reached for the telephone and called the number of The Unknown +Seven. After a brief delay he was connected with Carlin. + +“Where are you?” demanded the lawyer excitedly. “Been trying to get +hold of you everywhere.” + +“What has happened?” asked Cole evenly, though the lawyer’s agitation +was contagious. + +“Happened!” echoed Carlin. “Received an anonymous telephone message a +while ago warning us that, unless we keep hands off, Miss Brownell will +be dead inside twenty-four hours!” + + + + + CHAPTER XX + + THE VENEER OF INTELLIGENCE + + +The doctor’s face betrayed his anxiety, as Cole repeated what he had +just heard over the telephone. + +“That settles it,” muttered the physician. “We must find Miss Brownell +at once.” + +Cole nodded. For several minutes he had been watching the physician +closely. It was as if a veil had been removed from one phase of +Latham’s many-sided character. Cole looked through the contradictions +of his personality, and he knew that on one point, at least, the doctor +was sincere. That was in his attitude toward Miss Brownell. + +“There’s no hurry,” he said calmly. “Nothing is going to happen to her +for twenty-four hours.” + +“But why delay?” + +“Because we can do nothing else. Another reason is that I need sleep. +The third reason is Toots.” + +“Toots?” Latham frowned. “Who is Toots?” + +“The most distracted cat in the State of New York at the present +moment. My rooms were invaded by prowlers this afternoon, everything +thrown helter-skelter, and Toots just can’t bear fuss of any kind. +She is a very temperamental cat, doctor. You will hear from me in the +morning.” + +He left the scowling physician and walked toward the door. There he +stopped and looked back. “Don’t worry,” he said. “We will see Miss +Brownell out of this. There’s something of a plan buzzing around in my +mind. So long, doctor.” + +Cole walked out. Despite his cheerful tone he was not altogether free +from worry. The situation, as far as Miss Brownell was concerned, +looked critical enough. With the fate of Reeves and McKendrick in mind, +Cole knew the gang would not stop short of murder, if it suited their +plans. The hope he had tried to instill in Doctor Latham was based on +the advantages which he held over the other side. So far Ballinger +did not know that he was being suspected, and this was an important +point in Cole’s favor. A man who thinks himself safe is apt to make +blunders and become incautious. Another advantage lay in the fact that +the conspirators knew nothing of the deductions Cole had made from +Carmody’s visit to the offices of the Bureau of Civic Research, or of +his suspicions in regard to the big safe standing there. + +Cole went home, noticed with approval that Mrs. Armstrong had tidied +up his rooms, and that Toots was sleeping tranquilly on her favorite +cushion. In a few minutes Cole himself was sound asleep. Five hours he +slept, and then he awoke clear-eyed and vigorous. After feeding Toots +and getting his own breakfast, he went to the offices of The Unknown +Seven. On his desk he found a note from Carlin announcing that the +lawyer had, in accordance with Cole’s instructions, detailed one of the +operatives to watch room 2512 and report at once if the safe should be +taken out. + +Cole crumpled the note in his fist. It was yet early, and only a few +members of the staff were on duty. He went to the end of the hall and +glanced into the room where the body of McKendrick lay. What to do with +it was a delicate problem in view of the fact that the operations of +The Unknown Seven were being conducted secretly. Perhaps the best way, +was Cole’s reflection, would be to encase it in a plain box and ship +it anonymously to the morgue. Later, in some indirect way, he would +endeavor to see that the hunchback was duly punished. + +He locked the door of the little room and went back to his office. +He had been there only a few minutes when Doctor Ballinger, after a +discreet knock, stepped in. + +“You are early, doctor,” remarked Cole genially. + +Ballinger sat down and crossed his long legs. “I’ve been looking for +Miss Brownell,” he explained. “Seen anything of her?” + +“No,” said Cole casually, knowing that the doctor was watching him +keenly. “A bit too early for her, I guess. No doubt she will be +strolling in soon.” + +“Making any progress?” + +“Rome wasn’t built in one day,” said Cole evasively, knowing that the +question was a subtle feeler. “I’m just taking hold of the job, you +know.” + +“Still think there’s a traitor among us?” + +“I not only think it, but I am sure of it,” declared Cole testily, as +if reproaching himself for his failure to expose the renegade. He was +on the point of saying more, but just then the telephone rang. It was +Fessenden, the operative who had been detailed to watch room 2512. + +“They’re just taking it out, sir,” reported Fessenden, cautiously +hiding the gist of his statement behind the neutral pronoun. + +“Well, stay on the job and report developments to me,” said Cole in +tones that seemed to indicate that the matter was of no particular +importance. “You see,” he went on, turning to the doctor, as he hung up +the receiver, “I spilled the beans at dinner. The traitor has had his +warning, and from now on he will be a hard man to catch.” + +The doctor agreed with him. They discussed the matter from various +angles and finally the telephone rang again. Fessenden reported that +“it” had been loaded onto a truck. + +“Stay with it,” said Cole laconically. “Telephone me when you can.” +He was aware of a questioning gleam in the doctor’s eyes, as he hung +up, but he pretended to have noticed nothing. “Fessenden thinks he has +come across a clew,” he added for Ballinger’s benefit. “Don’t think it +amounts to anything, but it’s just as well to run it down.” + +“What sort of clew?” + +“It seems to have something to do with the murder of Reeves,” said Cole +indifferently. “Not more than one clew out of twenty ever pans out, and +I haven’t much hope for this one.” + +The doctor seemed to have been deceived by his tone. After a few more +remarks he walked out. In spite of what he had told Carlin the night +before, he had been far from certain that the safe would be taken out; +at any rate he had not expected it would be done before another night. +Fessenden’s report had started a long train of thoughts in his mind. + +Shortly before noon the lawyer walked in. + +“I’ve just made some inquiries about the Bureau of Civic Research,” +he reported, after he had been told that there was no news of Miss +Brownell. “There isn’t the slightest doubt about its genuineness. +Some of the biggest men in town belong to it. It’s a sort of reform +organization; interested in political uplift and that kind of thing. +They’ve occupied the two offices down below ever since the building +opened.” + +“That’s interesting,” said Cole, looking as if his trend of thought had +taken a sharp quirk. “By the way, the safe was taken out of room 2512 a +little while ago.” + +“Anything startling in that?” + +“Well, it’s just possible that, if we can follow the safe to its +destination, we shall find Miss Brownell.” + +“How do you make that out? What has the safe to do with Miss Brownell?” + +“My reasoning is based on the assumption that certain parties are as +anxious to hide the one as the other. If that is so then it is only +natural to suppose that they will hide both in one place. That safe, +Carlin, represents our only hope of getting Miss Brownell out of +danger.” + +The lawyer scratched his head thoughtfully. “I would advise you to move +cautiously. Those blackguards would kill her without the slightest +hesitancy if——” + +“Oh, I’ll be careful,” promised Cole. “All the same we must move +quickly. I think your hunch yesterday was right, Carlin. The gang is +getting ready to cash in their chips. They are holding the threat of +death over Miss Brownell in the hope of influencing us through her and +making us let them alone till after the clean-up. The miserable cowards +are hiding behind a woman. The idea makes me mad clean through.” + +“You look it,” observed Carlin. Shortly afterward he withdrew, and +a little while later Fessenden telephoned that the safe had been +transferred to a private yacht, moored at the foot of West One Hundred +and Thirtieth Street. Fessenden did not know to whom the craft +belonged. He added that it did not look as though the boat would start +for a while, for the crew were on shore leave. Cole instructed him to +report at once if it should appear that the yacht was about to sail. + +“They’ll probably wait till after dark,” he told himself after +Fessenden had finished. “Rather bold of them to put it aboard a yacht +in broad daylight. Really no reason why they shouldn’t, though,” was +his second thought. “As far as they know, nobody suspects anything. It +would look as if the safe was being shipped to a summer home somewhere +along the shore. Many people keep jewelry and other valuables in +such places, and a safe comes in handy. And to transport it by water +on a private yacht is less risky than intrusting it to the express +companies. There’ll be a merry little chase to-night.” + +Cole looked as if a whimsical idea had occurred to him. He called up +Latham and inquired if the doctor owned a motor boat. The physician +replied that he did; it was a small affair, he explained, but a demon +for speed. Cole promised that he would learn something interesting if +he would have the boat ready within an hour, at a certain point along +the river. Latham’s imagination seemed to cover the gaps in Cole’s +statement, for he promptly agreed to do as suggested. + +After giving several orders Cole left the office. His rendezvous with +Latham was a short distance below the point where the larger craft was +moored. Before boarding the doctor’s boat Cole went cautiously forward +and sought out Fessenden. + +“The wind is slack, and the engine seems to be out of order,” explained +the operative. “I believe somebody is tinkering with it.” + +“Have you learned who owns the yacht?” + +“I’ve made several inquiries, but nobody seems to know. She is +brand-new, as you can see, and this appears to be the first time she +has been anchored here.” + +Cole cast a glance at the queenly craft, its fresh coat of paint +gleaming in the pale autumnal sunlight. After telling Fessenden that he +could take the rest of the afternoon off he went back to Doctor Latham. +The physician, looking fresh and crisp in blue coat and creamy flannel +trousers, sat at the tiller. + +“When do we start?” he inquired anxiously. + +“We’re waiting for the other party to make the first move,” explained +Cole, pointing out the larger boat, easily distinguishable among the +craft of various types that littered the surface of the river. + +“Any news of Miss Brownell?” + +“Not a word, doctor. Are you in the mood for a little excitement?” + +The physician said nothing, but his smile and the squaring of his +shoulders spoke more loudly than words. Cole glanced out over the +horizon. A frieze of clouds was creeping up in the south, and a rising +wind rippled the water. + +“I suppose you are armed?” he asked after a while. + +The doctor slapped his hip pocket significantly. “Are we likely to have +a scrap?” he inquired in a tone hinting that the prospect appealed to +him hugely. + +“Quite likely! The rats are scenting danger and crawling into their +hole. We may have to tackle a whole nest of them.” + +The afternoon waned and still they waited. Darkness fell, and a +spanking breeze blew up. At Cole’s suggestion the doctor moved the +motor boat a little closer to the larger craft. + +“They are hoisting the sail,” observed Latham, as he brought the boat +to a stop at a point from which they could watch the yacht without +danger of being seen by its crew. Here and there the black ribbon +of water was broken by twinkling lights. An excursion steamer swept +majestically up the Hudson, with a tail of foaming silver in its wake. + +Presently the yacht moved. The two men in the motor boat waited a while +to give it headway. Then the doctor flipped the wheel, and, with a +gleeful phut-phut, the little boat darted forward. Like an animated +thing it skipped giddily across the water, darting in and out among +larger vessels. After a little the sprinkling of boats thinned out, +and they hugged the shore closely, in order to avoid being seen by the +yacht’s crew. + +“Think you can keep her in sight, doctor?” asked Cole, noticing with +concern that the larger boat was gaining speed. + +“Easily,” said the doctor confidently, “unless the motor should start +missing, and there’s little danger of that.” + +They were silent for a time. Cole, sitting close by, watched the intent +look on the doctor’s face as he guided the boat along the curving river +bank. The shore line grew more rugged; here and there earth and sky +melted into a blur. Now and then the lights of a town threw a yellow +sheen over the murky water. At intervals the yacht disappeared from +view behind a jutting tongue of land, but it was never out of sight for +long. + +“Doctor,” said Cole abruptly, “I don’t quite know what to make of you, +but we seem to have one interest in common. Both of us are concerned +over Miss Brownell. I am partly responsible for whatever happens to +her, while you—— But I think you told me that your emotional self is +dead.” + +A queer little chuckle drifted out on the breeze. There was a note of +grim despair in it. + +“Anyhow,” Cole went on, “there is a bond of interest between you and +me for the present. Seems we ought to understand each other a little +better. The other night, when I trailed the hunchback to your house and +later found him asleep on the operating table, your conduct was as +mysterious as the deuce. What had happened?” + +The doctor, one hand on the tiller, gazed rigidly out over the black +water to where the gray blur of a sail was visible against the darkness. + +“The thing which we call human intelligence is only a thin veneer,” he +remarked in whimsical tones. “Sometimes only a slight thrust is needed +to break through it. It is very amusing to watch the antics that a +supposedly sane being will perform when a crisis of some sort comes +along and gives him a jolt. My own part in this affair is an example +of what happens when the veneer of intelligence cracks. You would not +believe me if I were to tell you, so what is the use?” + +“You might try,” suggested Cole. The doctor had been a changed man +since he learned that Miss Brownell was in danger. Before that he had +been all subterfuge, evasions, and bewildering subtleties. Now Cole +felt that he was face to face with the man’s real self. + +“The hunchback came to my house that night to dispatch me to a better +world,” Latham said. + +“He had just performed a similar service for Malcolm Reeves,” Cole +observed. + +“He had orders to get me, too. The gang feared both of us, and they had +come to a pass where they couldn’t afford to stand on ceremony. Well, +that night I heard some one getting in the basement way. That’s the +advantage of being a light sleeper. I collared the fellow as he came up +the stairs. Not knowing what to do with him I gave him a hypodermic to +keep him quiet. Then you came and complicated the situation.” + +“If the hunchback came to your house to murder you,” said Cole +doubtfully, “why didn’t you turn him over to the police?” + +The doctor chuckled softly. “That shows how incongruously we sometimes +act, strutting around like hens with their heads chopped off. Your own +conduct was very peculiar that night. I was wondering why, instead of +handcuffing the culprit to my operating table, you didn’t telephone for +the police wagon.” + +“I had a reason.” + +“And so did I.” The doctor chuckled again. “At least I thought I had +a sound reason for my conduct. As a matter of fact my reason was at a +standstill; no doubt yours was likewise. At any rate I didn’t dare hand +the fellow over to the police. Certain things had happened that made it +undesirable for me to communicate with the authorities.” + +“The operation on Reeves?” Cole suggested. + +Again a queer little laugh drifted out on the wind. Cole suddenly +sat erect, gazing hard at the shadowy figure beside him. A shaft +of intuition had suddenly pierced the fog of contradictions and +incongruities in his mind. + +“There were two operations, weren’t there?” he asked. + +“That’s a very shrewd deduction,” declared the doctor, raising his +voice above the roar of the wind. “There were two. I performed one +of them. I strongly suspect that Ballinger performed the other. The +interesting point about them is that there is an official record of the +first, but none of the second.” + +For a moment Cole peered sharply ahead. The yacht was momentarily out +of sight, but he caught a glimpse of it again, as they rounded a curve +in the river bank. + +“Go on,” he said. “You were involved with this golden coterie, weren’t +you?” + +“For a time. I thought they were engaged in strictly scientific and +legitimate pursuits. I had known Carmody for some time, as a quiet and +scholarly man. It was through him I became connected with the group. +For a time all went well. My specialized training helped them solve two +or three minor technical problems that came up in connection with their +experiments.” + +“Then one evening Carmody telephoned me that an accident had occurred +at his house on Bleecker Street. He asked me to come over at once. +When I arrived he told me that Malcolm Reeves, who was visiting him +that evening, had stumbled and fallen down the stairs. My examination +revealed a compound fracture and convinced me that the pressure of the +bones against the brain made an immediate operation necessary.” + +“I had Reeves removed to the nearest hospital. It happened to be one of +the smaller private ones. I was assisted by a nurse. She was a little +nervous, and I could see that she was new at the game, but at first I +thought nothing of it, not until I discovered that there was something +wrong with the anæsthetic. She had blundered in administering it. I +shudder whenever I think of the result. Perhaps you can realize +something of what it means to have a patient awake in the midst of an +operation.” + +“Did Reeves see you?” asked Cole suddenly. + +The tiller wabbled for a moment in Latham’s hand. “He not only saw me, +but he recognized me. I shall never forget the expression on his face. +It was horrible! Well, luckily there were no serious consequences. +After a while Reeves was brought under the anæsthetic again, and the +operation was successfully finished. In due time he was taken to his +home. To this day I don’t know whether Carmody told me the truth and +the injury was accidental, or whether some one deliberately inflicted +it.” + +“Couldn’t you tell from the nature of the wound?” + +“Not with any degree of positiveness. I suspect some one tried to +murder him that night, but failed. Perhaps the assassin lost his nerve. +Carmody didn’t dare to have Reeves die on his hands, and so he sent for +me. I do know that Reeves had been troublesome toward the last, and +that the other members of the gang were afraid of him. They had ample +reason for wishing him out of the way, or at least rendered harmless.” + +“And so they performed a second operation that destroyed his memory?” +guessed Cole. + +“Presumably, but that’s only a surmise on my part. Reeves recuperated +very rapidly after the first operation. One evening, shortly after he +became able to move about, he started out on a mysterious errand. He +never returned, and the police found no trace of him. About the same +time I began to grow suspicious in regard to the activities of the +gang. I had no tangible proof, but it was my strong impression that +their aims were not strictly legitimate.” + +“Isn’t anybody entitled to make all the gold he wants to, if he’s lucky +enough to know how?” + +“That’s just the point. Carmody assured me he had discovered a process +whereby real gold could be produced synthetically. It would not only +look like gold, he told me, but it would assay up to the required +standard when turned over to the government mints. Carmody put it so +convincingly that at the time I believed him, especially when he showed +me samples. Later I began to have grave suspicions. Certain things +led me to doubt that the gang had sufficient faith in its products to +turn it over to the government in the form of bullion. In short, I had +reason to believe that I was involved in a huge counterfeiting project.” + +“What!” exclaimed Cole. The doctor’s revelation went beyond what he had +learned from The Unknown Seven. + +“To eliminate all risk the gang decided to take a short cut,” Latham +went on. “Instead of taking the gold to Uncle Sam’s mint they set up +a mint of their own. In a short time the country will be flooded with +spurious gold coins that are practically indistinguishable from the +real.” + +“And you have kept silent all this time?” + +“What did I tell you about the fragile quality of our veneer of +intelligence? I went to Carmody’s house and told him of my suspicions. +The old fox said nothing for a time, but merely smiled that freezing +smile of his. Then he took me to a small room on the second floor. +There sat Reeves, a gibbering maniac. Carmody bluntly accused me of +having performed the operation that deprived him of his reason and +smoothly suggested that it might be well for me to keep my suspicions +to myself.” + +“Carmody went on talking, mentioning among other things that it was +on record that I had performed an operation on Reeves’ skull. Call me +a simpleton if you like, but the professor’s words sank in. I guessed +that a second operation had been performed under cover of the original +one, but I had no means of proving it. I could see nothing but ruin +and disaster ahead. The only one who had witnessed my operation was +the nurse, and I could expect no help from her. I argued and argued +with myself, but, in the end, I decided to say nothing, at least for a +time. Sooner or later I suppose I should have spoken, but just then I +played the coward’s part. I was very neatly caught. In what was left of +Reeves’ mind was a picture of myself, as he had seen me when he woke +up in the midst of the operation. Occasionally, when the recollection +came back to him, he would shriek my name. The second operation, on the +other hand, had been performed under circumstances so deftly arranged +that they had left no impression whatever. There, my friend, you have +the whole story. Sounds like a travesty, eh? I shan’t feel at all hurt +if you refuse to believe me.” + +Cole had no reason to doubt him. What Latham had told him coincided at +various points of contact with what he had learned at the headquarters +of The Unknown Seven. He could piece out the rest. Agents of The +Unknown Seven had kidnaped Reeves from the Carmody residence and taken +him to headquarters. There he had been placed under Doctor Ballinger’s +care, and Ballinger had gone through with the pretense of trying to +restore Reeves’ mental functions. Only one contradiction remained. +Since Reeves was in the hands of a physician who was friendly to the +gang and could be depended upon to destroy any symptoms of returning +sanity in Reeves, why had it been thought necessary to kill him? +Ballinger himself evidently shrank from such a coarse crime as murder. +He must have had several chances to kill Reeves by safe and subtle +means, and yet the hunchback had been commissioned to do the crime. Why +had Reeves been killed? + +For a while the answer to that question eluded Cole. Then he recalled +something Carlin had told him. After Reeves had been under Ballinger’s +care for a time, without showing any signs of improvement, it had been +suggested that he should be removed to a hospital and a consulting +physician called in. Evidently Ballinger had seen a danger to himself +in that suggestion, and so the murder had been decided upon. + +“I have no reason to doubt you,” Cole said. “I don’t know but what I +would have acted pretty much the same if I had been in your place. I +think, though, that you have done a lot of needless worrying. Ballinger +is not at all confident of being able to fasten the second operation on +you.” + +“How is that?” asked Latham quickly. + +“I can’t tell you, but I have every reason to believe that Ballinger +is afraid of what an autopsy on the body might show. Not being a +scientific man I can’t grasp the details. All I know is that Ballinger +is so anxious to prevent an autopsy that he is having the body spirited +away.” + +Latham’s hand left the tiller, and the boat lurched dangerously. In a +moment he had regained control of it. + +“Unless I am a very poor guesser,” Cole went on, “the body is on the +yacht ahead of us. They are taking it to a place where it can be safely +destroyed. It’s hard to do such things in the city.” + +Latham stared at him speechlessly through the dusk. The wind had +increased, and the waves were swishing and churning against the bow of +the little craft. + +“It may be Ballinger is suffering from an uneasy conscience,” the +doctor murmured. “That’s one of the things that happen when the veneer +of intelligence cracks. Conscience makes a man do queer things. +However, if your guess is right——” + +He stopped short, at the same time peering sharply ahead. Suddenly his +hand went out, and the chugging of the motor ceased. + +“The chase is over,” he said. + +Cole followed his glance. The yacht, with sails lowered, was turning +into a small inlet. + +“And here is where the excitement begins,” he declared. + + + + + CHAPTER XXI + + THE FACE AT THE WINDOW + + +While Doctor Latham fastened the boat, Cole’s eyes swept the black +masses of wooded hills that slanted upward at a sharp angle from the +river bank. At the apex of the tallest peak a light gleamed, but +otherwise there was no sign of human habitation on this side of the +river. The lights of a town twinkled across the foaming welter of +waves, and they helped Cole to fix their location. They were in one +of the wildest and most rugged sections of Dutchess County. The peak, +on which the solitary light shone, had once been a popular pleasure +resort, and in the old days a cable railway had carried week-end +excursionists to the top. Of late, what with the dry era and the +public’s fickle fancy, the place had lost its popularity, and the +buildings on the peak were falling into decay. The ruggedly romantic +setting seemed an ideal one for the kind of adventure Cole anticipated. + +With the doctor at his heels, he moved cautiously toward the point +where the yacht had anchored a short distance ahead. Of a sudden they +stopped. The crack of a pistol rose sharply above the whine of the wind. + +“Only a signal, I think,” said Cole, after waiting tensely for a few +moments. + +They advanced a little farther, then stopped on a slight elevation from +which they had an unobstructed view of the yacht. In the lights from +the craft they saw a number of men going ashore, and several of them +were carrying a bulky object. Their faces were not recognizable at that +distance, but Cole thought there were about a dozen in all. + +“We may have quite a lively tussle,” he observed in an undertone. “I +could have brought a few helpers along, but safety doesn’t always lie +in numbers.” + +“I like this better,” said Latham. “If there were more of us there +might not be enough thrills to go around. Where are we?” + +“That place, up there in the clouds, where you see the light, is called +Dutchess Point. I believe there is a car coming down. That’s probably +what the pistol shot meant.” + +A light was treading its way in a zigzagging course down the side of +the hill. Soon were heard the chugging of motors and the metallic snarl +of brakes. The two men waited until the car reached the group that had +come off the yacht. As soon as the loaded vehicle started to retread +its path up the hill they followed. It proved a hard climb, and they +reached the top a full half hour behind the car. + +The apex was composed mostly of huge flat rock, with here and there a +few scrawny trees. There were half a dozen buildings scattered about, +and in the largest one several lights had appeared by the time the two +climbers reached the top. They stood in a dark spot behind a little +cluster of starving hemlocks. No one was in sight, but the sound of +voices drifted out to them through the open windows of the large +building. + +“Hear that noise?” whispered Latham. “What do you suppose it is?” + +Cole listened. A gentle, rhythmic whirring was heard. He looked down at +his feet, for it seemed to come from underground. + +“Machinery,” he said, and suddenly he remembered the words spoken by +Malcolm Reeves in his insane glee: “Yellow—pretty yellow.” The whirring +noise that he heard, as he stood there under the hemlocks, brought them +back to his mind. + +“Look!” said Latham suddenly. + +Cole, following his pointing finger, glanced upward. The large +building, he now noticed, was equipped with a high tower, and near its +top a light had appeared in the last few moments. At the lighted window +a face was dimly discernible. Cole strained his eyes at the point of +illumination, and suddenly he gripped his companion’s arm. + +“It’s a woman, Latham!” + +The doctor gasped. “It must be Miss Brownell, then!” + +The two men continued staring upward. Their imaginations touched up the +dim and remote picture which they saw with their eyes. The face was +very white, thought Cole, and the eyes held a look of terror. She was +looking downward; their glances met somewhere in mid-air, and yet she +appeared not to see the two watchers below. + +“What shall we do?” asked Latham. + +“You stay here,” said Cole. “I’m going to look around a bit.” + +He slipped away among the trees, avoiding the open space in front +of the building. The tower was in the rear, overlooking the steep +incline, and he moved in that direction. He looked up a sheer wall +to where the light shone. To climb up there was out of the question, +for the blank wall offered no hold for either hands or feet. He moved +cautiously toward the front entrance. For a moment he listened outside +the sagging door, then boldly pushed it open and entered. + +He was in a dark corridor. Under one of the doors at the side was a +thin wedge of light. A number of voices issued from it; evidently a +conference of some kind was in progress. Knowing that the stairway +leading to the tower must be in that direction, Cole tiptoed farther +down the hall. A bold and reckless move, he had learned from +experience, was often more effective than a thought-out plan. Before he +could do anything else Miss Brownell must be rescued. His hands were +tied, as long as she was held as a hostage by the gang. Once she was +out of harm’s way he could proceed against them as ruthlessly as he +pleased. + +He came to the end of the hall, and there he brought up against another +door. He opened it, almost sure that it must lead to the stairs, but +instead he found himself in a large, square room. A small electric +bulb glowed in the ceiling, and in its light he caught a glimpse of a +forbidding figure guarding a door at the farther side. The sentinel was +thickset and broad-shouldered. His bushy brows seemed top-heavy for his +very small eyes which glared out at Cole in a startled way. + +“Stop right where you are!” he commanded, at the same instant reaching +for his hip pocket. As his fingers closed around the handle of an +automatic, Cole lunged forward. His fist landed with explosive force in +the man’s face, and he fell to the ground without a sound. + +“Sorry, old top, but it had to be done,” Cole told the insensible man, +as he opened the door which the fellow had been guarding. Before him +was a winding stairway that seemed to extend upward interminably. Very +quickly Cole lifted the man through the door and stretched him out +along the steps, then drew the door to. + +He hurried up the stairs. The long ascent would have exhausted a weaker +man, but Cole’s lungs and muscles were in the pink of condition. At +length, panting a little, he reached the top. Before him was a door. He +rapped, and footfalls crossed the floor within. + +“Who’s there?” demanded a voice which he recognized as Miss Brownell’s. +It sounded a bit lofty, pathetically so, he thought. + +“Cole,” he replied. + +“Oh!” The exclamation was more a sigh of relief. “But I can’t let you +in. The door is locked, and I have no key.” + +“I might have known it,” muttered Cole. The space between the door +and the wall of the tower was very narrow. Bracing his back against +the wall he placed his feet on the door and shoved steadily. It was +of stout material, but at length it gave with an abruptness that +precipitated him to the floor. Quickly he picked himself up. + +The girl rushed toward him. There was an excited flush which +surmounted the white of her face. “I am so glad——” she began. + +“You were foolish,” Cole sternly interrupted. “You shouldn’t have +started after Ballinger alone. That’s no job for a woman. What +happened?” + +“Ballinger was too clever for me,” she confessed. “The moment I thought +I had him I was shoved into a car, blindfolded, and—— Well, that’s +about all I know. When I opened my eyes the next morning I found myself +here.” + +“How have they treated you?” + +“Oh, very well, suspiciously well. I have been told that prisoners who +are doomed to die always get the best of everything. Mr. Cole, you have +thrown a full-sized scare into the gang. I heard a couple of the men +talking outside my door this morning. I suppose they felt sure I would +never have a chance to repeat what I heard. They said——” + +“Not so loud!” admonished Cole. + +“I gathered from what they said,” she went on in a whisper, “that the +leaders of the gang are badly frightened. They seem to think you are +hot on their trail.” + +“They’re mistaken,” declared Cole modestly. “I’ve barely got started as +yet.” + +“Well, all the same they are very much worried. Their plan, as one of +the men put it, is to make a swift clean-up and a quick get-away. Some +one, whom they called ‘the big chief,’ was to come out here to-night.” + +“About a dozen men arrived a little while ago,” Cole informed her. “No +doubt the chief was among them. Do you know who he is?” + +“No. He wasn’t referred to by name in the conversation which I +overheard. I am sure, though, that Doctor Latham isn’t the man. In fact +I never really thought so. More of my woman’s intuition, I suppose.” + +“What else did the men say?” he asked in a whisper. + +“They said there is about half a billion dollars’ worth of gold ready +to be minted. I didn’t quite understand what they meant by that. There +is a complete set of machinery hidden somewhere about the place, and it +is running at full capacity.” + +“I should think the comings and goings of the gang would excite the +curiosity of the townspeople across the river.” + +“Oh, they’ve managed that part very cleverly by circulating a report +to the effect that the buildings are being renovated and that Dutchess +Point is to be reopened as a pleasure resort next spring. In fact, they +have put a crew of carpenters, roadmakers and gardeners to work on the +place. Just for a blind, of course. It seems they haven’t neglected a +single precaution. Yet they seem to be worried over something.” + +“Excellent! When your enemy is worried, you have an advantage over him. +What seems to be the trouble?” + +“I couldn’t quite make out. All I heard was a few scattered remarks. It +appears they are having some difficulty with the gold-making process. +There seems to be a minor flaw in the product, due to the absence of +something which they refer as the seventh ingredient. I haven’t the +least idea what it is, but it seems to be related to the experimental +work Doctor Latham conducted before he severed his connection with the +gang. They appear to think that he could solve their difficulty if he +was so inclined.” + +“By supplying the formula for the seventh ingredient?” + +“Something like that. Anyway, that was the impression I received. +Evidently the missing ingredient isn’t of very great importance, but +they want to make the product as perfect as possible.” + +“For the sake of safety in minting and circulating it, I suppose,” +said Cole thoughtfully. “Apparently Latham left them at an inopportune +time from their point of view. Doubtless they would exert any manner +of pressure on him in order to make him divulge the secret of this +so-called seventh ingredient.” + +“I doubt if they would succeed.” + +“So do I,” said Cole, looking curiously at the girl. “Latham is a +fighter clean through, and he is a match for them. By the way, he came +out with me this evening.” + +She caught her breath and fixed her wide, troubled eyes on his face. + +“Doctor Latham here?” she murmured. “Did he volunteer to come with you?” + +“I invited him to come, and he jumped at the invitation. I foresaw that +he would prove useful, and he was doubly anxious to come when I hinted +that our expedition to-night might reveal your whereabouts. Your +disappearance came as a great shock to him.” + +“Then you no longer think he is implicated with these scoundrels?” + +“No, I don’t. He was with them until he saw that their aims were +crooked, and then he got out as best he could. Latham has acted +foolishly, but that’s all. The scientific side of these experiments +appealed to the scholar in him. I don’t think he was ever moved by +greed. No, Latham wasn’t to be blamed. Whenever a man is in love he is +apt to make a fool of himself.” + +She lowered her eyes. “Doctor Latham is a good man,” she said tensely. +“I wish I could——” A gentle sigh escaped her. + +“I understand,” murmured Cole. “Life is a bit of a tangle, isn’t it? +Even the logical mind of a scholar isn’t able to steer clear of the +meshes when a charming woman is involved. One never knows——” + +He paused, threw a quick glance at the door, then looked at Miss +Brownell, noting the tensity that had suddenly crept into her face. +In an instant his automatic was in his hand, and he tiptoed softly to +the door. Holding it open a crack, he heard unmistakably the sounds of +footsteps coming up the stairs. + +“Stand back!” he ordered curtly. “Some one’s coming!” + +But the girl, smiling faintly, signified with a shrug that she intended +to remain where she was. + + + + + CHAPTER XXII + + A DUEL OF WITS + + +Cole opened the door a trifle wider. The footfalls, furtive and +hesitant, sounded as if several men were coming up the protesting +stairs. He fancied there were many others below who were ready to jump +into the fight if he should be successful in disposing of the ones now +approaching. His mind worked with lightning speed as he turned away +from the door. + +The room, hexagonal in shape, with a tall window at each angle, was +lighted from a tarnished brass fixture at one side. While watching +the light from the outside, Cole had noticed that from the windows to +the ground was a sheer drop of one hundred and fifty feet, so escape +in that direction was impossible. The walls, covered with once gaudy +paper that was now faded and torn, seemed to offer no loophole. The +unswept floor was cluttered with pieces of dilapidated furniture of +a kind which suggested that the room had once served as a rendezvous +for gamblers. The single door was the only exit, and flight in that +direction was cut off by the men now creeping up the stairs. As nearly +as Cole could determine from the sounds, they were as yet only halfway +up. For an instant his thoughts flew to Doctor Latham, and he wondered +if the physician was still waiting for him outside. + +He stepped quickly toward the girl. “Talk,” he whispered, “talk about +anything.” + +She took her cue with a comprehending nod, and Cole hastened back to +the door. + +“But I don’t know, so how can I tell you?” she asked in a tone whose +naturalness instantly won his approval. He was quick to follow up her +lead. + +“You have no idea who the leader of these cutthroats is?” he asked in a +slightly nettled tone. + +“None whatever.” + +He listened for a moment. The footsteps were coming gradually closer. +When he spoke again, he threw his voice so that it sounded as if coming +from the center of the room, a ventriloquial trick he had practiced +when a boy and often found useful. + +“You have been here a good many hours,” he pointed out. “I thought you +might have overheard something that gave you a clew.” + +“You forget that I have been locked up in this room all the time.” + +“That’s so,” Cole admitted, tightening his grip on his automatic. The +footfalls on the stairs had ceased. Evidently the persons who were +approaching had stopped to listen to the conversation. “You haven’t +seen any one who looks as if he might be the boss of the outfit?” + +“No one,” she declared convincingly. “So far I have come in contact +only with underlings. The man higher up, whoever he is, has remained in +the background. Of course, I could make a guess.” + +“Let’s hear it.” + +“Doctor Latham.” + +Cole smiled. It was an excellent bit of strategy, and he was confident +that the men below had heard. Her cleverly simulated suspicion in +regard to the physician was well calculated to deceive them in regard +to the extent and accuracy of her information. + +“You may be right,” he said thoughtfully just as the footsteps began to +move upward again, and once more his voice sounded as if coming from +the interior of the room. “I’ve had my eyes on the doctor myself. He is +a sly bird, but I’m not sure that his cranium is the adequate size for +a job of this kind. However he will bear watching. But we’re wasting +time. The first thing to do is to get you safely out of this nest of +crooks. I think the way is clear, but we must——” + +“You’re a little bit slow,” said a voice, and the door came open, +admitting a stocky individual with a leveled automatic. He came +straight forward, stopping bewilderedly as he saw only the girl, and +in that instant Cole reached out behind him, seized him firmly by the +neck and, swinging him backward with a powerful sweep, slammed his head +against the wall. With a fragmentary cry the man went lurching to the +floor, and in almost the same instant Cole whirled round and struck +his companion a vigorous blow with the butt of his pistol. The fellow +dropped like a dead-weight. + +“Two of them!” exclaimed Cole, feeling quite elated at the success of +his ruse. “Where’s the third?” + +Miss Brownell, breathing rapidly, looked hard at the door. Cole glanced +out, but there was neither sign nor sound of movement on the stairs. + +“I thought there were several of them,” he muttered. “Must have been +mistaken. Sounds are deceptive, you know. This may come in handy.” + +He stooped, picked up the weapon dropped by his second adversary, +and handed it to Miss Brownell. With an expert air she examined the +mechanism, making sure it was loaded. + +“You worked the trick to the queen’s taste, Miss Brownell,” he declared +approvingly. “It was a good piece of work.” + +“But you did it all.” + +“Far from it! I couldn’t have thrown them off their guard if you hadn’t +helped. Do you know,” peering at her curiously, “I was afraid you would +faint, or something like that.” + +She laughed. “You haven’t a very high opinion of our sex, Mr. Cole.” + +“It is rising every moment. We must get away before these rascals come +to. Feel strong enough for a walk?” + +“Just try me! Your exhibition of fisticuffs was so stimulating that I +am ready for anything.” + +“Then let’s start. Latham must be wondering what has become of me.” +With a glance at his fallen foes, Cole started down the stairs, the +girl following. He did not wish to alarm her by voicing his misgivings, +but he was far from certain that they would reach the bottom without +an interruption. Doubtless the others must be aware by this time that +something was amiss. The burly sentinel he had knocked down at the foot +of the stairs had probably either recovered consciousness or been found +by his accomplices. In either event, their path was beset by perils. + +Pistol in one hand, Cole proceeded cautiously down the stairs. They +were dark, and the constant winding made progress difficult. He had +discovered that Miss Brownell was brave and resourceful, but he would +breathe more easily when he had got her out of harm’s way. + +They reached another turn, and suddenly the girl stumbled and lurched +violently against him. + +“Ouch!” she moaned, trying to repress an exclamation of pain. “My +ankle! I think I twisted it.” + +Cole cursed softly as he gathered her in his arms. Her figure was +writhing in the throes of physical distress. + +“As I told you once before,” she complained mockingly, trying to make +light of the injury, “you are not at all gallant. Almost any other man +would have welcomed the chance.” + +Cole muttered something under his breath. A dislocated ankle +complicated a situation that was already critical enough, but the +girl’s superb behavior stirred him to unwilling admiration. His fears +were all for her, not for himself. He was almost at the foot of the +stairs now. If he could only get her safely out of the building and +place her in Doctor Latham’s care. If only—— + +Abruptly he stopped before a door. With his burden in his arms he had +reached the foot of the stairs. For a moment he stopped and listened, +but all seemed quiet on the other side. An involuntary moan of pain +told that Miss Brownell was suffering intensely. Balancing her on his +shoulder he reached out a hand and pushed the door open. + +Instantly he felt a premonition that something was wrong. The sentry, +whom he had left unconscious at the door before ascending to the tower, +was no longer there. He started to draw back, but it was too late. A +shadow leaped swiftly across the path of light in front of the open +door. A hand clutching a bludgeon was raised to strike. Cole, with +the girl on his shoulder, could not dodge the blow. It caught him +squarely on the jaw, and the terrific impact sent him reeling against +the stairs. The girl slipped away from him, and in his last conscious +moment he tried to ease her fall. + +“I take it all back,” she whispered in his ear, her bantering tone +edged with pain and anguish. “You—you _are_ gallant, Mr. Cole.” + +But Cole heard nothing. + + + + + CHAPTER XXIII + + THE SEVENTH INGREDIENT + + +When, some thirty or forty minutes later, Cole opened his eyes and +fingered his swollen jaw, he found himself sprawling in a chair in +a strange room. In front of him stood Doctor Latham, a humorously +sympathetic look on his face. + +The room, with its faded tawdriness and crumbling decorations, looked +as if it had once been a private dining room. The scratched woodwork +and the liquid stains on the wall paper were reminiscent of hilarious +times. Cole noticed that the two windows were shuttered on the outside. + +“How do you feel?” inquired the physician. + +“As if I was all jaw,” said Cole, opening his eyes a little wider and +gazing stupidly at the doctor. It took him several minutes to recall +that he was still in the big house on Dutchess Point. A rhythmic +vibration that seemed to come from beneath the floor, accompanied by +the remote humming of machinery, brought him back to the present. + +“Why are you here?” he demanded of the physician. “Didn’t I tell you to +stay outside?” + +“So you did, and it was excellent advice, my friend. I wish now I had +heeded it. But I grew impatient and proceeded to find out what had +become of you. All I got for my pains was an ungentle tap in the region +of the occipital bone.” + +With a serio-comic expression the doctor caressed the back of his +head. His clothing was rumpled and looked as if he had been dragged +over a dusty floor. + +Again Cole stroked his jaw. “Where is Miss Brownell?” he suddenly asked. + +Latham pointed across the room where, white-faced but smiling, the girl +sat in a chair. + +“I’ve justified my existence at last,” he remarked. “I managed to +straighten out Miss Brownell’s ankle. Didn’t have my kit with me, and I +fear I dealt rather roughly with her. How about it, Miss Brownell?” + +“I hardly felt it,” she assured him. “For a big man, you are gentleness +itself.” + +The physician looked long into her smiling face, and when he turned +away there was a sad, wistful expression in his eyes. Miss Brownell +caught a fleeting glimpse of it, and her face sobered instantly. + +“Cheerful place!” murmured Latham, glancing up at the dilapidated +ceiling. “Anyway, we ought to be thankful that the three of us are +together. Wonder what the amiable ruffians plan to do next. What +happened to you after you left me, Cole?” + +It took Cole some little time to remember, but at length he gave the +doctor a brief summary of the episode in the tower, ending with the +unexpected attack that had left him with a swollen jaw. The doctor +seemed amused. + +“Laid them both out, eh?” he said with a chuckle. “Good work, Cole. +I believe you could manage a massacre all by yourself if you had the +chance.” + +“The chance may come sooner than we think,” said Cole dryly, with a +glance at the door. “Miss Brownell told me some of the things she has +learned during her term of imprisonment here. It seems we have one +advantage, doctor.” + +“What’s that?” + +“The seventh ingredient.” + +A thin smile parted the physician’s lips. “That’s so. I’d forgotten +about that. It’s a minor detail I worked out independently. Professor +Carmody made several attempts to make me reveal the secret of it, but +I refused. You see, by that time I had discovered that the scheme was +crooked, and I would have nothing more to do with the gang. However, +the seventh ingredient, as they call it, isn’t of great importance. Its +value is almost nil.” + +“But they seem to think otherwise.” + +“They are mistaken, and naturally so. I was mistaken myself for +a while. I exaggerated the importance of the so-called seventh +ingredient. Afterward, when I knew better, I saw no reason why I should +put them right.” + +“Glad you didn’t, Latham. As long as they are laboring under a +misapprehension, we have an advantage over them.” + +“How is that?” + +“They think you have something that they want. The fact that they are +mistaken makes no difference. As matters stand at present, you are in a +position to bargain with them.” + +“Bargain over what?” + +“Oh, several things.” Cole stepped a little closer to him and spoke in +an undertone. “Miss Brownell’s safety, for instance.” + +Latham’s brows went up. “Of course!” he murmured. “I’m a bit dull +to-night. Glad you have your thinking cap on, Cole. The amiable +ruffians will be given to understand that I refuse to discuss the +seventh ingredient until Miss Brownell is at a safe distance. After +that nothing will matter. Smoke?” + +Cole helped himself to a cigarette from the physician’s case, slanting +a quick glance in the girl’s direction as he lighted it. She looked +both puzzled and amused. + +“Were you saying something I was not supposed to hear?” she inquired. + +The question remained unanswered, for just then the door opened, and +the gaunt, frock-coated figure of Professor Carmody strutted into the +room. In his hand was an automatic, which he managed very cautiously, +and his shrunken face was all smiles. + +“Hello, Cole,” he chirped gleefully. “Good evening, Miss Brownell. How +are you, doctor? Glad to see you all here.” He chuckled wheezily and +rubbed his bony hands with their talonlike fingers. “Too bad you didn’t +follow my advice the other day, Latham. You would have escaped a lot of +trouble if you had been sensible.” + +“Go to blazes,” said the doctor contemptuously, advancing a step toward +Carmody. + +The pistol came upward in the professor’s hand. “Don’t move,” he +warned. “And it won’t do either of you any good to reach for your +weapons. They were removed while you were—ahem—incapacitated. We object +to rowdyism in this place. Our leader is a peaceful man and does not +like disturbances. Cole, you have caused us a lot of embarrassment, +and see what it has led you to. I believe our last meeting took place +in room 2512, the Security Building.” + +Cole made a wry face as he recalled how the professor had tricked him. +“You were a bit too clever for me that time, Carmody,” he admitted. + +The professor gave a cackling, complacent laugh. “Even an old man like +me must have his little jokes,” he remarked, still adhering to his +ludicrous habit of raising and dropping his voice on almost every other +word. “I’ll wager you don’t know even now what my object was. Eh, Cole?” + +Cole measured him with a cool glance. “I think I do,” he declared +quietly. “The body of Reeves was in the safe. Members of your +illustrious gang had removed it from its former place and put it there. +One of my men learned what the safe contained, and he paid with his +life for his discovery. Later you dropped in to see that everything was +in readiness to sneak the safe and its contents out of town.” + +“You are a very shrewd guesser, Mr. Cole. It is a matter of keen regret +to me that one of such fine intellect must be on the wrong side of this +situation. As for the body of Reeves, it will very soon be reduced to a +handful of fine dust. The process will be scientific in every respect. +Nothing coarse or gruesome, you understand. We couldn’t have disposed +of it satisfactorily in the city. It would have been too dangerous. +But that isn’t what I came in here to talk about. Doctor Latham, you +were once a friend of mine, and in the beginning of this enterprise +you gave us several valuable hints. For the last time I ask you to be +reasonable. It is your last chance.” + +“And if I refuse?” + +The professor screwed his face into a melancholy expression. “In that +event you, too, will soon be only a handful of dust.” + +“Even so I will have the advantage over you, professor. When your end +comes there won’t be enough dust to make a thimbleful. I hope I make my +meaning clear?” + +“You will not reconsider your decision?” + +“No!” declared Latham explosively. + +“Not even in order to save the life of this charming young lady?” +Carmody turned his beatifically smiling face toward Miss Brownell. + +A pallor crept up under the doctor’s eyes. He stared with a horrified +expression at the professor. + +“You mean that——” + +“Precisely, my dear doctor. The young lady is dangerous to us. +Under the circumstances the law of self-preservation demands that +she be rendered harmless, and the only effective way of doing that +is to remove her from this sad world. However, in appreciation of +the services you once rendered us, she shall be spared if you will +reconsider your decision.” + +The doctor appeared to hesitate. His eyes, full of tenderness, were +fixed on Miss Brownell. Cole could see that he pretended to be +wavering. Then the girl spoke. + +“Doctor Latham has decided,” she declared in a clear, calm voice. “He +is not the type of man who bargains with blackguards. I wouldn’t permit +it, even if he were so inclined. Go away!” she added, turning her +eyes, full of cold contempt, on the professor. + +Carmody winced beneath her scornful gaze. For a moment he plucked +nervously at the lapel of his coat. Then, with a soft chuckle that +sounded diabolical to the other three in the room, he turned to the +doctor. + +“The young lady has spoken,” he remarked. “I’m afraid her pretty head +is full of silly notions. Youth is always like that. You are older and +wiser, Latham. What do you say?” + +The doctor regarded him calculatingly. “Just what do you want, Carmody?” + +“Ah, that’s better! Getting down to terms, eh? I see I was not mistaken +in relying on your common sense. You know what I want, doctor. It is +something we have discussed before. Miss Brownell and Mr. Cole will not +understand what I mean, but it has something to do with the seventh +ingredient.” + +Latham nodded. “Thought so. Very curious on that point, aren’t you, +professor? I used all my spare time during three or four months working +out that interesting angle. It was quite fascinating, I assure you. Do +you know, professor, I sometimes wonder if the late lamented Doctor +Price was not about two hundred years ahead of his time? From the very +beginning of our experiments I suspected that Doctor Price’s secret—the +secret which he never divulged—was a sort of electronic reaction +applied to chemical compounds. When I learned how to use that reaction +in the process we had under way, my problem was solved.” + +Carmody regarded him narrowly. “The electron wasn’t known in Doctor +Price’s day.” + +“And that’s why I say he was about two centuries ahead of his time. +At any rate, I am satisfied he stumbled upon something which closely +resembles our modern discoveries. Nothing else explains the marvelous +achievement that he took with him to his grave.” + +“And you claim to have resurrected his discovery, Latham?” + +“I am not in the habit of making claims,” said the doctor modestly, +with an air of mysteriousness that was well calculated to impress +Carmody. “I prefer to let facts speak for themselves.” + +Carmody pondered, his sharp, greedy little eyes wandering from one face +in the group to another. + +“You made memoranda of your experiments, of course?” + +“Naturally.” + +“Where are your notes?” + +Latham smiled blandly. “In two places. Here,” tapping his head, “I +carry the whole process. My written memoranda are in a safe place, a +place which I shan’t divulge to you until you have given us reasonable +guarantees in regard to our safety.” + +Professor Carmody scowled. “You are hardly in a position to dictate +terms.” + +“Do as you like,” said Latham with a shrug. “If you reject my +conditions, I shall follow Doctor Price’s example and take my little +secret with me to my grave.” + +“And what about Miss Brownell?” + +The physician winced, but before he could answer the girl spoke for +herself. + +“Don’t mind me,” she said spiritedly. “Doctor Latham, why don’t you +tell the professor that he is beneath contempt?” + +Carmody turned his head and regarded her with a look of lofty disdain. +“Haughty little devil!” he muttered under his breath, then faced +the physician again. “Well, Latham, what would you call reasonable +guarantees?” + +“Cole and myself will remain here for the present. As far as Miss +Brownell is concerned, I’ll be satisfied when she telephones me from +her home in town that she has arrived there safely. Does that strike +you as reasonable, Cole?” + +“Perfectly.” + +Carmody scratched his jaw perplexedly. “It is a very difficult +situation. I shall refer it to the leader of our organization.” + +With that he backed cautiously toward the door, his automatic gripped +tightly in his thin, gnarled hand. In a moment the door closed behind +him, then came the sound of a heavy bolt turning in the lock, and the +two men and the girl were alone. + + + + + CHAPTER XXIV + + CORNERED + + +Cole turned to the window and verified his impression that the +shutters were strong enough to bar their exit in that direction. For +a few moments he stood there, listening to the remote booming of the +waves, the fretful whine of the wind, the creaking and groaning of +timbers in the old house. With these sounds there mingled another, a +faint but ecstatic humming and whirring that seemed to come from some +subterranean crypt. + +“Gold!” it seemed to say with a dull, sinister intonation. “Gold!” + +Cole shrugged and moved away. Next he hurled himself against the +door, but its solid resistance told him the effort was useless. The +doctor stood in the middle of the room, pulling thoughtfully at his +black beard and now and then sending Miss Brownell a glance out of his +strange, flashing eyes. + +“You handled the professor superbly,” Cole told him. “He is guessing +now, and when a man is guessing he is at a distinct disadvantage.” + +The doctor smiled musingly. “But don’t build too high hopes on his +state of mind,” he cautioned. “It is best not to underrate the enemy’s +resources.” + +“What about that choice morsel you handed him in regard to an +electronic reaction?” Cole wanted to know. “Anything in it?” + +“Absolutely nothing. But it sounded impressive enough to give the +professor something to worry about. As for Doctor Price, he wouldn’t +have recognized an electron if he had seen one with the naked eye. I +hardly expected Carmody to swallow it, but he did. When you tell a fib, +it is always best to tell the kind that the other fellow is prepared to +believe.” + +Cole laughed; there was something irresistible about the doctor’s +stoicism. “I hope,” he fervently declared, “that the swallowing of that +electron will give the professor a severe attack of cramps. What do you +propose to do next, Latham?” + +“Heroics were never in my line,” the doctor asserted in a tone that was +meant to be cynical. “When one is caught, the thing to do is to yield +as gracefully as possible. I suggest we surrender to the enemy. Why +stand on pride when one is headed for a tumble?” + +“In other words, you mean to build up a magnificent bluff on the +electron Carmody swallowed?” + +“Precisely,” said Latham, casting a sidelong glance at Miss Brownell. + +The girl got up, limped uncertainly across the floor, and placed a hand +on the physician’s arm. + +“You are a good man, Doctor Latham,” she murmured. “You are quite +transparent, however. You intend to keep up this bluff, as you call it, +until I am at a safe distance. You fail to consider what is going to +happen to you and Mr. Cole when they discover you have tricked them.” + +“Oh, we will cross that bridge when we come to it,” said Latham with an +air of profound assurance. + +“You aren’t candid with me,” the girl protested. “You know they will +kill you both as soon as they realize they have been imposed upon. You +intend to sacrifice yourself for my sake. I won’t have it!” + +“Now, Miss Brownell——” + +“I won’t accept such a sacrifice,” she declared vehemently. “That’s +absolutely final.” + +Latham gazed at her in an embarrassed way. He tried to smile, but it +was a pathetic effort. “Youth is always that way,” he declared. “Always +butting its head against stone walls. Don’t you see, Miss Brownell, +that——” + +“No, I don’t,” she interrupted. “And, so you won’t be tempted to give +it for my sake, let me tell you that I intend to fight this crowd of +cowardly ruffians till the end. Even if you should surrender, I would +not, so your sacrifice would be in vain.” + +Latham stroked his beard reflectively. A flippant remark was on the tip +of his tongue, but he seemed unable to utter it. He assisted the girl +back to her chair. + +Cole had watched them in silence. Something stirred gently within him +as he witnessed the scene between the doctor and the girl. There was +a touch of the sublime in the physician’s determination to sacrifice +himself for the object of his hopeless devotion. But to Cole it all +seemed very futile. He doubted strongly that the leader of the gang +would accept Latham’s terms. Knowing that she had discovered several +important things in regard to the organization’s activities, they would +not be likely to let the girl out of their clutches. Their logical +move would be an effort to obtain by other means the secret which they +supposed was in Latham’s possession. Nevertheless, the little drama +enacted before his eyes touched him deeply. Now he shrugged off his +hopeless feeling and strode briskly across the floor. + +“It isn’t time to sing the funeral hymn just yet,” he declared. “There +is another fight in us still. I propose that we——” + +What he had to propose was not made clear, for the door opened, and +with his usual stiff and dignified gait Professor Carmody walked once +more into the room. He had dropped his mock affability and carried +himself with a stern and dignified air. + +“I have talked with the chief,” he announced, addressing Doctor Latham. +“The arrangement you suggested is flatly impossible.” + +“Just as I thought,” muttered Cole under his breath. + +“You can see for yourself how unreasonable it is,” Carmody went +on in an argumentative tone. “Miss Brownell is in possession of +information which, if used against us, might harm us greatly. Under the +circumstances it would be extreme folly on our part to permit her to +leave this place for the present.” + +“Then what do you propose?” asked the doctor. + +“That you listen to reason. In a few days, a week or two at most, our +present enterprise will be finished, and we shall be in a position +where nothing can hurt us. You, Latham, can hasten developments, if you +wish, by giving us the formula you have worked out. It isn’t essential, +but we prefer to make use of it. The sooner you choose to oblige us, +the sooner you and your friends will be permitted to depart.” + +The doctor regarded him with a half-humorous, half-contemptuous gaze. +“Is that all?” + +“By no means. If you decide to accommodate us, you shall share in +the golden harvest we soon expect to reap. Think of it, Latham. By +complying with a simple request you will make yourself enormously +wealthy. Never before in the world’s history was such a magnificent +reward offered for a comparatively small service. Never since——” + +“You are waxing rhapsodical, professor,” interrupted Latham curtly. “I +am always suspicious of a man who makes flowery promises. Will you tell +me in plain words—the plainer the better—what will happen if I should +reject your magnanimous offer?” + +“I do not like to contemplate it,” said Carmody, his face full of +sadness. “Especially in view of Miss Brownell’s connection with the +matter. But you will not do anything so foolish, Latham. Remember +that we are powerful enough to get what we want, and that we do not +hesitate to use extreme measures when necessary. We can bend even such +a stubborn will as yours. I am waiting for your answer. Will you give +us the formula voluntarily, or must we resort to unpleasant forms of +coercion?” + +Maintaining a firm hold on his pistol, he struck an expectant attitude. +Cole, who had remained a silent but attentive listener, could see that +Latham’s position in the scientific world, together with the work he +had previously done for the organization, had convinced the professor +that he really possessed a formula that would be of great value to +the gang. Latham, on the other hand, seemed in a quandary as to how +he might best use his precarious advantage. Already it was slipping +away from him, and soon, unless an unforeseen development came to his +rescue, it might be turned against him. + +“You are taking a long time,” complained the professor. + +“It is a weighty question,” rejoined Latham. + +“Perhaps I can help you to arrive at a decision,” said Carmody, a +faint, cruel smile parting his bloodless lips. Suddenly he shifted the +aim of the pistol so that the barrel pointed straight to Miss Brownell. +“I believe you are a man of your word, Latham. I shall count ten. +Unless you give me a favorable reply before I reach ten, Miss Brownell +will go to a better world.” + +The sardonic grin that had twisted the doctor’s lips froze into a +ghastly look of horror. Miss Brownell straightened a little in her +chair, her face turned a shade paler, but there was no fear in the +eyes she leveled at the professor. Critical as the moment was, Cole’s +dominant sensation was admiration for her courage. + +Carmody began to count in his thin, brassy voice: “One—two—three—four——” + +Cole gazed narrowly into his face, as impassive as if carved out of +wood. There seemed to be no doubt but what Carmody meant to carry out +his monstrous threat. He flexed his muscles for a spring while the +professor went on counting. + +“——five—six—seven—eight——” + +Cole lunged forward, staking everything on the chance of snatching +the murderous weapon from the professor’s hand, but Doctor Latham +acted even more quickly. With a sudden bound he crossed the floor and +placed himself directly in front of the chair in which the girl sat. +For a moment the pistol pointed straight at his midriff; then, with an +exclamation of baffled rage, Carmody lowered the weapon. + +“Fool!” he snarled. “Step out of the way this instant, or I’ll kill +both of you.” Once more the pistol rose in his hand. + +Very calmly, while Cole marveled at his audacity, Latham took a case +from his pocket and with ostentatious serenity lighted a cigarette. + +“Fire away,” he said coolly, folding his arms across his chest and +smoking with an air of perfect content. + +Carmody regarded him with a baleful glare, then abruptly changed his +mind and started backing toward the door. He slammed it behind him with +unnecessary vigor, and they heard the bolt slide in the lock. Latham +flung away his cigarette. + +“Whew!” he exclaimed. “That was fairly exciting. I didn’t like the way +Carmody looked when he left us, though. The old rat has something up +his sleeve.” + +Cole nodded, wondering at the meaning of the professor’s hasty exit. +“Our only hope is to spar for time, and we have been fairly successful +so far,” he remarked. “That was a neat maneuver, Latham.” + +“It was splendid!” exclaimed the girl, and Cole noted a new expression +in her wide, lustrous eyes as she fixed them on the physician. “But you +mustn’t do it again,” she added firmly. “He might shoot next time.” + +“How is the foot?” inquired Latham. + +“Better—much better. I think I can step down on it now.” + +“You had better not try as yet,” said the physician with a professional +air. “Cole and I may challenge you to a foot race by and by, and you +must preserve your energies.” + +She merely smiled at this, and again Cole noted the new, tender +expression in her face. He was about to frame a remark, but just then +the door opened. Two burly, hard-faced men, each with an automatic in +his hand, entered the room. + +“The big chief wants to see you,” announced one of them. “This way.” He +pointed toward the open door. + +Cole glanced narrowly at the weapon in his hand, then decided that +at the present moment resistance would be worse than useless. There +were other lives besides his own to be considered. Evidently the same +thought had occurred to the doctor. After a moment’s hesitation and an +exchange of glances with Cole, he took the girl in his arms and carried +her out followed by Cole. + +One of the armed men, walking at the head of the little procession, +opened the door. + +“In there,” he directed. “Step lively!” + +He gave Cole an ungentle shove with his automatic, and the three +prisoners walked through the door. + + + + + CHAPTER XXV + + FACE TO FACE + + +Cole glanced about the room they had entered. Its sparse furnishings +suggested that it had been arranged in haste. There were a desk and +a telephone, hinting that it served as the executive office of the +gold-mad crowd, also a few chairs, a huge steel safe, and a cot. The +cluttered condition of the desk indicated that some one had recently +been sitting there and would probably soon return. Cole’s gaze rested +longingly on the telephone, the only connecting link with the outside +world. + +Very gently Doctor Latham placed the girl in one of the chairs. As she +looked up at him, her eyes were full of trust and gratitude. + +The doctor turned to one of the armed guards at the door. + +“Where is the benevolent gentleman whom you call the big chief?” he +inquired. + +“You’ll see him soon enough,” replied the man surlily. + +“Good!” exclaimed Latham. “At last my curiosity shall be satisfied. We +have a pretty good idea what he looks like—eh, Cole?” + +“I think we do,” said Cole, a smile tugging at his lips. “Once or twice +before my suspicions turned in the direction of the man I have in mind, +but something threw me off the track. Now I am almost sure.” + +Cole’s next words were spoken in an undertone, too low for the girl to +hear. “You realize what you are up against, don’t you, Latham?” + +“Against a bunch of cockeyed devils, of course.” + +“I had something more specific in mind. Professor Carmody has failed +to bully us, so now the big chief himself is to have a try at it. You +realize, of course, that he wouldn’t allow himself to be seen by us +unless——” He paused and looked gravely at the doctor. + +“Yes, I understand,” whispered Latham, throwing an uneasy glance at +Miss Brownell. “He wouldn’t show himself to us if he thought there was +the slightest chance that we would ever tell tales about him. These +scoundrels are planning to murder us, Cole.” + +“So it looks, but not until they have made one more effort to make you +reveal the formula for the seventh ingredient.” + +There was a look of sad humor in the doctor’s eyes. “And next time they +will try harder. I’ll keep up the bluff as long as I can. The seventh +ingredient!” He chuckled grimly under his breath. “Like most humbugs, +it sounds well.” + +Cole glanced expectantly toward the door. “A little while ago, out in +the other room, when you stepped between Carmody’s pistol and Miss +Brownell, did you expect the professor would shoot?” + +“I didn’t know what to expect, to tell the truth.” + +“Well, I knew he wouldn’t,” said Cole emphatically. “While we are +waiting, you might try to figure out the reason why. When you find it, +file it away in your mind for future reference. It may come in handy. +We must stop this whispering. We are making Miss Brownell nervous.” + +A slight sound was heard in the corridor. The two armed guards stood +aside, and then the door opened. A moment later, smiling thinly as he +saw his suspicions confirmed, Cole faced the leader of the alchemists. + +“Good evening, Mr. Englebreth,” he said easily. + +An attendant pushed the invalid’s wheel chair up to the desk. +Englebreth, his disproportionately broad shoulders slightly hunched, +looked about the room with a rather listless expression. He was as +white-faced as ever, and his pale, washed-out eyes showed little +animation, but a faintly sinister smile played about the long, thin +lips. In his hand was a pistol with which he toyed with apparent +carelessness. + +He nodded at Cole, then, with a quick motion of his long, slim fingers, +dismissed his attendant. The door closed, and the two armed guards +stood in front of it. For a while no one spoke. A hush seemed to have +descended over the little group with the invalid’s entrance. Latham +regarded him intently, but without a sign of surprise. For a moment +Englebreth’s pale eyes rested on Miss Brownell, then he glanced at the +doctor, and finally at Cole. His forehead puckered a little. + +“You do not seem surprised to see me,” he remarked petulantly, as if +disappointed that his entrance had created no sensation. + +“Why should I be?” Cole asked. + +“Surely you didn’t suspect until now that I was connected with the +enterprise on foot here?” + +“On the contrary,” said Cole, “your entrance has only confirmed the +suspicions that have been running in and out of my head for the past +two days. They began when I saw you enter the offices of the Bureau of +Civic Research. They received a setback when I learned that the letters +you left on the desk were genuine.” + +Englebreth seemed mildly amused. “I am a public-spirited man,” he +declared. “The Bureau of Civic Research is one of the numerous +praiseworthy activities I am interested in. Being one of its honorary +vice presidents I have free access to its headquarters, of course. When +I learned, quite by accident, that a certain mysterious organization, +located on the top floor of the building, was resisting my plans, then +this privilege stood me in good stead. You might have guessed, Cole, +that I left those letters for a blind, just to show any casual visitor +that everything was open and aboveboard.” + +“I might,” said Cole dryly. + +“Yet you have proven yourself a very fair guesser, I must say. You are +a clever fellow, Cole. The Unknown Seven didn’t become really dangerous +to us until you took charge of its activities. Not that you have +accomplished anything,” he added with a dry chuckle. “We are too strong +even for you.” + +Cole received the compliment with a shrug. A silence fell between them. +In the stillness the rhythmic humming of machinery was distinctly +heard. In Cole’s ears it sounded like a pæan of gold. He looked deep +into Englebreth’s pale eyes. There was a queer flicker in the depths, +an expression of insatiable greed to which the subterranean whir +and throw was but the audible accompaniment. He had seen the same +expression in Reeves’ burning orbs and also in the eyes of Carmody and +Ballinger. There was something abysmal about it. It suggested one who, +having gazed too long on visions of great wealth, had become enslaved +to a fearful obsession. + +“Yes, you are very clever,” Englebreth went on. “It did not occur to me +that any one might suspect what the safe contained, but evidently you +did. You followed the yacht, of course. It was a very ingenious move, +Cole. Without doing so you would never have located our establishment +here. Now that you are here what do you propose to do?” + +Cole only smiled. Again he looked deep into Englebreth’s eyes and saw +the smoldering fires of the fever of gold. + +“My wife is an admirer of yours, Cole,” the invalid went on. “When her +brother disappeared she insisted that I engage you to find him. Of +course I couldn’t very well refuse. It would have looked suspicious, +and, besides, I supposed you were harmless. When I saw that you were +about to learn too much, through your connection with me, I succeeded +in persuading my wife that you were not worthy of confidence, that it +was best to dismiss you. Again I ask you what you intend to do.” + +The words sounded like a taunt. Again Cole slanted a glance at the +telephone. The instrument tantalized him. He noticed that the green +cord attached to its base was of generous length. His mind worked +quickly, but the sight of the three automatics baffled him. A sudden +move would mean instant death, not only for himself, but for his two +companions as well. + +“You seem irresolute,” Englebreth observed. “And no wonder, Cole. For +once in your life, you are absolutely helpless. You have been entirely +too meddlesome, and people who meddle in others’ affairs usually get +into trouble. Listen!” + +Cole listened. A faint smile played about Englebreth’s lips as the +whirring of machinery sounded clearly in the surrounding silence. + +“Know what it means, Cole. It means gold! Gold!” His lips seemed to +caress the word. “Millions and millions and millions, Cole. After you +are gone we shall be turning out gold in unlimited quantities. I and my +associates shall be the richest men in the world. And you, poor worm, +who thought you could stop us, will be reduced to a few grains of dust.” + +“Sure of that?” demanded Cole. + +His tone, clear and confident, seemed to impress the invalid. + +“Why do you ask? Surely you don’t expect to escape from your present +predicament. As it happens, all the members of my organization are here +to-night. A touch of my finger will summon twenty men to my assistance, +if necessary.” + +He scanned Cole’s face for a sign of fear, but none came. The other’s +coolness seemed to nettle him. + +“So the gang is all here,” said Cole carelessly. “That means, of +course, that Doctor Ballinger is included?” + +“Naturally. An excellent man, Ballinger. He has a practical mind, and +he knows on which side his bread is buttered. Why do you ask?” + +“I am glad he is here,” said Cole. “I wouldn’t want him to get away +from me, you know.” + +The invalid leaned out of the chair and stared. “Get away?” he echoed. +“What do you mean?” + +“I have a particular score to settle with Ballinger,” said Cole calmly. +“Naturally I want him present when I hand you and your gang over to the +police.” + +“When you——” Englebreth was utterly astounded. “If you think this is a +joking matter——” + +“I was never more serious in my life, Englebreth. Before daybreak I +expect to hand every mother’s son of you over to the authorities.” + +Englebreth stared for a moment longer; then he laughed hoarsely. Cole +could see that his cool insolence had exerted the intended moral +effect. The invalid, though the advantage was all on his side, felt +just a trifle ill at ease. Cole’s demeanor was well calculated to +suggest that a surprise of some sort was forthcoming. Englebreth would +not have been human if he had failed to be impressed by the airy +assurance of one whom he thought wholly at his mercy. + +Finally he shrugged. “You must be mad,” he muttered. Then he faced +Latham, who stood beside the chair in which Miss Brownell sat. “I have +something to say to you, doctor. You did us a service once, and that is +something I never forget. If you will——” + +“Save your breath,” interrupted Latham contemptuously. “For a time, a +little while ago, I was tempted to enter into negotiations with you, +but Miss Brownell wouldn’t hear of it. What is a mere man to do when a +woman sets her foot down?” + +“Your flippancy is ill-timed,” said Englebreth austerely. + +“Hasn’t one a right to joke at one’s own funeral?” + +“We shall see.” Englebreth’s lips tightened ominously. “You know what +we want from you, doctor. Only a formula that by right belongs to us, +since you worked it out while you were a member of this organization. +Produce it, and I promise to be lenient with you and Miss Brownell. +Unless my senses deceive me”—and Englebreth smiled craftily—“you are +very anxious that nothing unpleasant shall happen to her.” + +Latham hesitated, impressed by the cruel smile on the invalid’s lips, +and the girl answered in his place. + +“Doctor Latham’s answer is _no_,” she declared emphatically. + +Englebreth regarded her curiously, with an odd mingling of admiration +and malice. “You are a stubborn young person,” he muttered. “For the +last time, doctor, I ask you if you will consent to my terms.” + +Again it was Miss Brownell who answered. “Doctor Latham refuses,” she +declared. “He knows that your promises are worthless, that you intend +to kill us regardless of whether or not he grants your request. I don’t +think there is anything further to be said.” + +“No?” Englebreth’s thin fingers seemed to tighten around the pistol. +“Perhaps I can convince you——” + +He stopped short. A squeallike cry of astonishment escaped him, for +Cole had just done a very unexpected thing. It was so unexpected, +in fact, that it seemed like the act of a person whose reason was +tottering. With arms folded across his chest he had casually approached +the chair in which Miss Brownell sat. For a time he had seemed absorbed +in deep thought, but all the while he had been scheming how he might +divert Englebreth’s attention, even if only for a moment, from the +menacing pistol in his hand. Anything of a startling nature, the more +bizarre and ludicrous the better, would serve his purpose. Now he +turned suddenly and gave the girl a resounding slap on the cheek. He +followed it up with another, then with a third. + +A spell seemed to fall over the gathering. They had witnessed an act, +in itself trivial and ridiculous, that staggered their reason by its +sheer fatuity. For a measured moment their minds were at a standstill. +That was exactly what Cole had intended, and a moment was all he +needed. He had acted on a fugitive inspiration at a time when all +seemed lost, when a move of a more rational nature would only have +hastened the inevitable. + +The resounding smack of the third blow had scarcely drifted out on the +silence when he leaped at the invalid’s chair. In an instant, while the +minds of Englebreth and the two guards at the door were still dazed +from contemplation of a thing so bizarre, he had snatched the pistol +from the cripple’s hand. A moment later he was crouching low behind +Englebreth’s chair, pressing the muzzle of the weapon against his back. + +He thrilled inwardly. Once more his mind had triumphed over a critical +situation. The other time had been when he faced Professor Carmody in +the Bureau of Civic Research. The professor had been thrown off his +mental base by a trick just as simple and effective. + +“Tell your men to drop their weapons,” he commanded, the muzzle of the +pistol prodding Englebreth’s back. “I’ll give you exactly ten seconds. +Unless you obey, you will be a dead man.” + +Englebreth squirmed in the chair, evidently in a state of great terror. +In a few minutes his agile mind might reassert itself, but just now +he was merely a shivering wreck. His trembling hand went up and made +a signal to his men just as Cole was about to call time. Habitually +obedient to the master will, the men at the door dropped their pistols. + +Cole rose from his crouching position behind Englebreth’s chair. Latham +and the girl stared at him bewilderedly, the latter moving her hand +dazedly over the cheek that Cole had struck, both seemingly unable to +realize as yet what had happened. Englebreth was breathing raspingly. +The two guards at the door gazed dully at the erect figure behind the +invalid’s chair. + +“Pick up those pistols, Latham,” said Cole quietly. “Pardon my +rudeness, Miss Brownell. It was necessary.” + +She smiled uncertainly, evidently beginning to understand. It was +several moments before the physician could shake off his stupefaction. +He moved haltingly over the floor and dazedly took possession of the +pistols. + +“It was magnificent, Mr. Cole!” murmured the girl, at last grasping the +psychological stratagem by which Cole had reversed the situation. + +“But if I hadn’t seen it happen, I would have sworn it couldn’t be +done,” said Latham. + +Cole’s face was grave. His ruse had only averted their immediate +danger. Any moment other members of the organization might pour into +the room, crushing them by superior numbers. Every second counted now. +Holding the pistol in one hand, Cole drew the telephone to him and +spoke a number in the transmitter. Only a few words would be needed to +make Carlin understand the situation, and within an hour reinforcements +would arrive. He wondered, as he waited for his connection, if they +could hold out until then. Impatiently he jigged the hook, muttering +heartfelt imprecations upon the state of the rural telephone service, +and then, in a twinkling, something happened. + +He saw the cripple’s weazened hand move stealthily along the side of +the desk, became conscious that a heretofore unnoticed door had burst +open behind him, heard the girl’s quick, startled cry, saw the light +blotted out as if a pall had suddenly dropped over the little room, +felt a stinging blow at the back of the head, and, with Englebreth’s +diabolic chuckles dinning in his ears, fell to the floor. + + + + + CHAPTER XXVI + + A CRY + + +“Gold! Gold!” The vibrant murmurs, edged with a triumphant and sinister +note, echoed in Cole’s ears as he opened his eyes. The house was +shivering with a slow, rhythmic tremor, a throbbing pulsation that +instantly began to pierce the fog in his mind. + +From his recumbent position on the floor he struggled to a sitting +posture. Lifting his head, he listened to the grimly exultant pæan +rising from the bowels of the earth. + +“Feeling better?” asked a voice which he vaguely recognized at Doctor +Latham’s. + +Cole did not answer. The subterranean vibrations seemed to cast a spell +over his awakening senses. + +“Hear it?” he asked at length. + +“Hear what?” + +“This infernal hymn of gold. It will drive me crazy if I have to listen +to it much longer.” + +“Then don’t listen. Know what time it is?” + +Cole shook his head as if to indicate that the matter was of absolutely +no importance. + +“Precisely twelve o’clock,” said the doctor, and Cole heard something +resembling the snapping of a watch lid. “You have been unconscious for +something like ten hours. That was the second knock-out in a night, +Cole. Why can’t these scoundrels show a little versatility?” + +“What happened?” asked Cole dully. + +“As if that mattered now! Englebreth gave a signal of some sort, and +the next thing I knew about half a dozen of his hired thugs swooped +down on us. My recollections cease at that point.” + +“Where are we?” + +“In the same room we occupied last night, before we were ushered into +Englebreth’s august presence. The windows are just as tightly shuttered +as they were then, and the door is just as impregnable. I wonder if +these hounds mean to let us starve to death.” + +Cole looked about him. An electric light was burning dimly over their +heads. Through a narrow rift in one of the shutters came a shaft of +sunlight, gilding the dust in the stale air. + +“Where is Miss Brownell?” he asked abruptly. + +“Wish I knew,” muttered the doctor. Of a sudden all the levity had died +out of his voice. “You and I were alone in this room when I came to. If +these rats harm a single hair on her head——” The threat died unfinished +in a groan. + +With difficulty Cole rose to his feet and leaned against the wall. + +“I don’t seem to remember just where we were at,” he mumbled. + +“You gave Miss Brownell a slap on the cheek,” the doctor reminded him. +“It was a brilliant idea, Cole.” + +“So it was—but it failed, as I remember,” Cole muttered grimly. “What +was the situation just before that?” + +“Englebreth was doing his level best to bluff me into revealing the +formula of the mythical seventh ingredient. Perhaps you remember his +sportsman-like proposition. I was to give him the formula in return for +my life.” + +“He would promptly kill you the moment you surrendered the formula,” +Cole pointed out. + +“Without a doubt. He would kill all three of us. But, as it happens, I +can’t give him the formula, because it doesn’t exist.” + +“But as long as he thinks it does, we are holding a trump card in +reserve,” said Cole, regaining his grip on the tangled threads of the +situation. + +“If only we knew how to use it!” + +“We’ll find a way,” said Cole confidently, dragging himself to a chair +at one side of the room. “Anything about your person that could be used +as a weapon in an emergency?” + +“Not a thing. I am plucked clean.” + +“So am I,” said Cole after a hasty survey of his pockets. “No, here is +a stick pin. They seem to have overlooked that. The pin is long and +sharp. You could pierce a person’s jugular vein with an implement of +this kind, couldn’t you, doctor?” + +“If you knew exactly where to strike.” + +“You do, of course, being a doctor. As a weapon it would be useless in +my hand, so I will transfer it to you. I suggest you conceal it under +the lapel of your coat.” + +Puzzled, Latham took the ornament and did as Cole had directed. As he +hid it under his lapel, he seemed inclined to ask a question, but Cole +forestalled him. + +“I think some one is coming,” he remarked in an undertone. + +Latham, listening, heard the sounds which Cole’s keener ears had caught +first. Folding his arms across his chest, he struck a carefree pose and +looked toward the door. It opened, and two armed stalwarts walked in. +They were followed by Englebreth in his wheel chair. Two more guards, +also armed, brought up the rear. With a cautious look to all sides, +the invalid trundled his wheel chair into the center of the room. The +barrel of a small automatic gleamed viciously in the electric light. + +“How do you do, gentlemen?” he said in tones of mock geniality. “Wish +I could offer you some breakfast, but it has been my experience that +people are always more reasonable when their stomachs are empty. I have +come to renew our discussion where we left off last night.” He fixed +his bleak and very alert eyes on Doctor Latham. + +“Better save your breath,” suggested the physician. “You may need it +before we are through with you.” + +Englebreth smiled serenely. “I don’t blame you, doctor, for trying +to bolster up your courage. People usually resort to false bravado +when they are hopelessly situated. Our friend Cole enacted quite a +spectacular scene last night, but he will hardly try anything like that +again. He has learned his lesson. Well, doctor, are you ready to oblige +us?” + +“If you will drop that automatic, I’ll oblige you with a smash on the +jaw,” said the physician in unprofessional but impressive language. + +“Still stubborn, I see.” His smile took on a sinister quality. “I +suppose you are wondering what has become of Miss Brownell?” + +The doctor bit his lip, but his gaze did not waver. “If anything +happens to Miss Brownell,” he muttered hotly, “I’ll choke you to death +with my bare hands.” + +“Save your threats, doctor. They don’t interest me in the least. As +yet nothing whatever has happened to Miss Brownell, but something will +unless you adopt a more reasonable attitude. I warn you that it will be +something decidedly unpleasant.” He turned slightly in the chair and +addressed one of his bodyguards. “Ask Doctor Ballinger to step in here.” + +The man nodded and left the room. A questioning glance passed between +Latham and Cole, the former looking as if a dread suspicion had +suddenly occurred to him. In a few moments the messenger returned with +Ballinger. The physician strode in with a jaunty air and saluted Cole +and Latham with exaggerated politeness. + +“Ah, Ballinger,” said the cripple in an undertone, yet loud enough for +the two prisoners to hear, “I just wished to make certain that you have +made all necessary arrangements for the—ahem—experiment we discussed +last night.” + +Cole, casting a sidelong glance at Latham, saw him stiffen suddenly. A +film of pallor spread above the bearded portion of his face. + +“Yes, everything is ready,” announced Ballinger. + +“The instruments came?” + +“Just a little while ago.” + +“And the ether?” + +“It is here too.” + +“Good, Ballinger. Be ready to proceed the moment you hear from me.” He +waved a withered hand in dismissal. + +Ballinger, an inscrutable smile playing about his lips, left the room. +An intense silence followed. The cripple’s gelid gaze moved from Latham +to Cole, and then back to Latham. + +“You understood?” he asked. + +Neither man answered. A harrowing suspicion seemed to have come over +both of them. Latham looked as if his powerful body was racked by an +agonizing dread. + +“Ballinger is a very clever man,” murmured the invalid. “You know +what happened to Malcolm Reeves.” He paused, looked stonily at Doctor +Latham, as if waiting for his last words to produce their utmost +effect. “The same thing,” he added slowly, measuring each word, “will +happen to Miss Brownell unless you change your mind, Latham.” + +A cry of mingled horror, loathing and hate broke from Latham’s +compressed lips. He sprang toward the cripple, hand raised as if to +strike, but in an instant two of the bodyguards intervened. + +“Glad we understand each other, Latham,” said the cripple calmly. “The +operation will start in fifteen minutes unless you submit to my terms.” + +Latham stood speechless. The only sound heard in the room was a great +sigh. + +“Don’t like the idea, eh, Latham?” the invalid went on in smooth, +dulcet tones. “The spectacle of Miss Brownell reduced to a gibbering +lunatic is a little too much for your imagination to dwell on. You have +a vivid recollection of what happened to Reeves.” + +A dull, hoarse groan sounded in the physician’s chest. Cole, watching +him, thought he was about to give way under an overwhelming strain. + +“You’re mistaken, Englebreth,” he managed to say. “There is no such +thing as the seventh ingredient. I let you go on thinking so because——” + +Englebreth interrupted with a wave of his hand. “I expected you to +say that. It would be your logical evasion. You can’t deceive me with +such nonsense. Only last night you discussed the possibilities of the +seventh ingredient with Professor Carmody. As he explained it to me, +it’s a sort of electronic reaction. Not being a scientific man, I don’t +understand what that means, but it doesn’t matter. I have the utmost +respect for your scientific achievements, doctor. Will you give us the +formula?” + +Latham fumbled in vain for a convincing argument. His advantage had not +only slipped away from him, but it had become a deadly boomerang in +Englebreth’s hand. + +“I swear I am telling you the truth!” he cried brokenly. + +A cold smile curled the cripple’s lips. “Such childish subterfuge +doesn’t go with me,” he said contemptuously. “Either you give me the +formula instantly, or Miss Brownell will be a lunatic inside of an +hour. Take your choice.” + +He leaned back in the chair, slowly and playfully twisting the +automatic in his hand. Cole stepped forward. + +“Latham has told you the truth,” he declared. “The seventh ingredient +never existed outside of his imagination.” + +Englebreth shrugged with an air of utter incredulity. Cole could see +that there was no way of disturbing his firmly rooted belief. And he +knew that, even if the seventh ingredient had been a reality, Latham’s +submission would not have altered their situation. + +Englebreth looked at his watch, then summoned one of his bodyguards and +whispered something in his ear. The man left the room. The slamming +of the door sounded like a death knell in the tense silence. Latham’s +chest heaved in a frenzy of suppressed emotions. Minutes passed, and +then hurried footsteps sounded overhead, accompanied by the sound of +a resisting body being dragged over the floor. Latham, with a wild +look in his face, started forward, but one of the guards shoved him +back. Breathing fast and raspingly he swayed unsteadily on his feet. +Of a sudden he gave a violent start, then stood as if frozen into +immobility. From the room above came a long cry of terror, uttered in a +woman’s voice. + +Latham’s bulging eyes stared upward. There was a look of insanity in +his face. + +“Stop it!” he cried hoarsely. “For God’s sake——” + +Another cry, more poignant than the others, shrilled through the house. + +“Stop it—you fiend!” cried Latham. + +“I will, on one condition,” said Englebreth calmly. “There is still +time. They are only making preparations upstairs. She won’t cry when +the real business begins.” + +Latham’s hand went to his eyes as if to exclude a hideous vision. + +“Careful, Englebreth!” said Cole evenly. “If you go too far, Latham may +lose his mind.” + +“And if he does, what then?” demanded the cripple jeeringly. + +“A number of things may happen.” Cole gave the physician a level, +significant glance. “For instance, Latham may take it into his head to +kill himself.” + +The physician’s head went up. His hands left his face. A look of +dawning comprehension crept into his features. He turned his head and +for an instant his eyes met Cole’s, reading a message there. + +“Kill himself?” echoed the cripple, astonished. “What rot, Cole! How +would he do it, and why?” + +“Ask him,” said Cole with a careless gesture. “I can only point out to +you that if he kills himself the secret of the seventh ingredient dies +with him. Look! He is——” + +He simulated a cry of astonishment and horror. Latham, quickly +interpreting the message he had read in Cole’s eyes, had snatched the +stick pin from under the lapel of his coat. + +“Watch me, Englebreth,” he declared in a voice that had suddenly +retrieved all its lost vigor. “Even a stick pin makes quite a +formidable weapon if it’s pointed in the right direction. I am pointing +this one straight at my jugular vein. The moment anybody in this room +makes a move, I drive it in. Where will your seventh ingredient be +then, Englebreth?” + +The cripple stared at him in speechless bafflement. He raised a hand, +but it fell limply to his side. + +“You—you’re crazy!” he stuttered. + +“Maybe,” said Latham coolly. + +“Or else you are only bluffing.” There was a trace of doubt in +Englebreth’s tones. + +“Why should I be bluffing? I would rather kill myself than be killed by +your bunch of hyenas. I know you meant to kill me, anyway, Englebreth. +One thing is certain. Unless you stop the preparations upstairs within +the next sixty seconds, your last hope of obtaining that formula will +be gone. You can’t get anything out of a dead man.” + +Englebreth strained forward in his chair, staring into the physician’s +grim, determined face. + +“He means what he says,” Cole declared, smiling despite the tension of +the moment. “You will have to act quickly, Englebreth.” + +The cripple considered a moment longer, then bawled an order to one +of the men at the door. The fellow hurried away, and in a moment +they heard him scurrying up the stairs. An exchange of words sounded +overhead, then all was quiet. + +Englebreth made an impatient gesture with his hand. The bodyguard +closed in around him, and with petulant motions he wheeled himself out +of the room. At the door he turned his head for a moment, and a little +chill rippled down Cole’s back as he saw the cold, malignant look in +the cripple’s eye. + + + + + CHAPTER XXVII + + THE WAY OUT + + +Doctor Latham stroked his beard thoughtfully as the door closed behind +the invalid and his retinue. “It worked like magic,” he remarked. + +“It worked,” Cole amplified, “because we were dealing with a logical +mind, one that deals mainly with reason and fails to consider the human +equation. We know that Englebreth means to kill us in the end, and he +knows that we know it. That being the case, it wasn’t hard for him +to put himself in your place a little while ago. He would have done +what you threatened to do, because it was the logical move under the +circumstances. I wonder what deviltry Englebreth will be planning next.” + +“A seven-course dinner, I hope,” said the doctor wistfully. “I’m +famished.” + +Cole regarded him musingly, marveling at the resiliency of his spirits. +Latham appeared to have shaken off all external cares the moment he saw +that Miss Brownell was no longer in immediate danger. + +“You might as well restrain your appetite, doctor,” he murmured. “You +heard what Englebreth said, that a man is most amenable to argument +when he is hungry. At any rate, it is worth something to know that he +doesn’t want you to die just yet. He showed that plainly when you made +that monumental bluff with the stick pin. I saw him turn white as a +ghost.” + +“Thanks to the seventh ingredient,” said Latham with a chuckle. “It’s +the best kind of life insurance, but I fear it won’t last long. Any +more tricks in your repertory, Cole?” + +“One more, I think.” Cole glanced toward the shadowy corner where he +had stood during Englebreth’s presence in the room. “I understand,” he +went on casually, “that Dutchess Point was once a very gay place.” + +“If so, its gayety hasn’t improved with age.” + +Cole ignored his flippancy. “I’ve been told it was once a notorious +gambling resort. Places of that kind are usually equipped with +contrivances for making hasty exits—trapdoors, sliding panels and that +sort of thing.” + +Latham raised his brows. “What are you getting at?” + +But Cole seemed in no hurry to approach his subject. “Ever notice, +Latham, that many people find it very hard to remain motionless when +they are in a state of deep mental concentration? Physical movement +of some sort seems a necessary relief from mental effort. One man I +know is always plucking at his watch chain when he is absorbed in some +mental task. Another taps his desk with a pencil. My own favorite +diversion on such occasions is to beat a tattoo with my knuckles.” + +“Highly interesting,” remarked Latham, “but I fail to see the point. It +is either very shallow or very deep.” + +“Neither, Latham. A little while ago, while you were enacting that +highly dramatic scene for Englebreth’s benefit, I stood back there in +the corner, with my hands behind my back, tapping the wall with my +knuckles. No one noticed me, for you held the attention of everybody +in the room. I didn’t realize what I was doing myself until suddenly I +became aware that my knuckles were producing a hollow sound.” + +Doctor Latham gasped. “You mean that——” + +“We shall see,” said Cole; and in an instant he was back in the corner, +crouching low while his knuckles hammered the wall, each tap producing +a dull, hollow sound. The doctor, visibly excited, stood behind him, +watching every move he made. Cole continued the tapping until he had +determined the boundaries of the hollow space, extending about five +feet from the corner, and then he got down on his knees and ran his +hands along the beveled joint between wall and floor. A little cry of +elation escaped him as his fingers encountered a small protuberance. +Almost instantly a portion of the wall turned back as if swinging on a +central pivot. In front of them extended a long, dark hall. + +“Great!” exclaimed Latham, his voice shaking a little. “You deserve a +harp and a halo, Cole. Now let’s make the hasty exit you spoke of.” + +He pressed forward, but Cole pulled him back. “I don’t want a harp +and a halo just yet,” he declared, “and that’s why we are going to +stay in this room a while longer. You forget that it’s still broad +daylight outside. If we went out now, we would doubtless run into one +of Englebreth’s sluggers. We must wait till dark.” + +Latham groaned as Cole closed the opening. He glanced at his watch. +“Only half past three. That means a wait of several hours.” + +“I know. That will give us ample time to lay our plans. Don’t forget +that we are both unarmed, and that we’ll cut a sorry figure if we +should be caught. We don’t want to waste the only advantage we have.” + +“You are right, of course,” admitted the doctor. “What do you suggest?” + +Cole reflected. “It isn’t likely Englebreth knows anything about the +hidden exit. If he did, he would have chosen a different cell for us. +We’ll treat him to a little surprise after dark, Latham. Its exact +nature will be determined by whatever developments come along in the +meantime.” + +“Wish they would hurry,” mumbled the doctor, all impatience now that +a way out had been found. He sat down, lighted a cigarette, and made +ostentatious efforts to compose himself for a wait. An hour dragged +by. The beam of light coming through the narrow rift in the shutter +grew thin and pale. Another hour passed, and it disappeared altogether. +Latham got up and began pacing the floor with long, lunging strides. +For a long time not a word had been uttered between the two men. + +“Isn’t it about time to make a move?” asked Latham suddenly. + +Cole started. The subterranean pulsations, sounding clear and exultant +in the stillness, had cast a spell over his senses. Now he looked at +his watch in the light of the electric bulb overhead. + +“Better wait another hour,” he suggested. + +Doctor Latham swore under his breath, then lighted another cigarette. + +“Queer we haven’t heard from Englebreth,” Cole remarked. “I expected +another call from him before dark.” + +“He is probably meditating over his next move. I imagine he is planning +a very brilliant stroke. But we’ll checkmate him, eh, Cole?” + +Latham’s impatience was beginning to communicate itself to Cole. He +took his watch from his pocket, and in the same instant a noise sounded +outside the door. In a moment it opened, and two huskies, with leveled +automatics, appeared in the room. + +“Miss Brownell wants you,” announced one of them, addressing Doctor +Latham. + +The physician, evidently in a quandary, looked questioningly at Cole. +For only a moment Cole hesitated. Doubtless the summons meant that +Englebreth was trying a new mode of attack and that the reference to +Miss Brownell was only a subterfuge. + +Cole nodded in response to the physician’s unspoken question. “If Miss +Brownell wants you, you must go to her,” he declared, conscious that +one of the guards was watching him intently. In an undertone he added: +“If you get into a pinch, keep stalling till I show up.” + +Latham nodded and walked out, accompanied by the two gangsters. Cole +watched him until the door closed behind him. + +“Wonder what Englebreth is up to this time,” he muttered; and then, +moving quickly, he stepped into the corner and, opening the hidden +door, stepped out into the dark hall beyond. + + + + + CHAPTER XXVIII + + THE ENEMY STRIKES + + +Silent as a shadow, Cole hurried down the hall, which seemed to extend +endlessly in an undeviating direction. Believing it had once been used +as an emergency exit he supposed it would eventually lead into the +open. He had made no plans beyond the immediate present, but it was +his intention to join Doctor Latham as soon as possible and, taking +advantage of the sensation his unexpected appearance would create, +make the most of his opportunity. Beyond doubt the physician was in +desperate danger. The murderous glance Englebreth had thrown over his +shoulder as he left them a few hours ago had left an ominous imprint on +Cole’s mind. + +Soon he brought up against an obstruction, apparently a blank stretch +of wall. He fumbled with his hands along the surface expecting to find +a contrivance similar to the one at the other end of the wall. Soon +his fingers encountered the little knob at the bottom which told him +his surmise had been correct. Cautiously he pressed outward and the +obstruction gave. A breath of cool night air fanned his face as he +stepped out. + +Hugging close to the wall he looked about him. Evidently he was in the +rear of the house, in a wide recess formed by two projecting wings. +Above him and to the sides were several lighted windows, while ahead +of him was a sloping, rock-strewn stretch of landscape. Carefully +picking his way, he stepped along the nearest wall, all his senses +on the alert against an interruption. He reached the corner, looked +around the edge of the wall, and then drew back. A stalwart individual, +evidently one of Englebreth’s lookouts, was coming toward him. + +Cole shrank back against the wall, waited until the man rounded the +corner, then swung out with his right hand and landed a smashing blow +on the fellow’s jaw. Without a sound the sentry dropped to the ground, +and Cole dragged him into the shadows along the wall. It took him but a +few moments to undo the man’s shoe laces and secure his hands and feet. +Next he ripped out the lining from his coat, folded it into a narrow +strip, and firmly applied it as a gag. Last of all he extracted an +automatic from the unconscious man’s hip pocket. + +“I’m in luck so far,” he told himself, making certain that the weapon +was loaded before he continued his interrupted progress. He breathed +more easily now, for the possession of a firearm had a soothing effect +on his nerves. He crawled forward along the wall, exercising infinite +care, until he reached a window in the wing. It was dark, and no sound +came from within, signifying that this part of the building was not +used by the gang. He placed his elbow against the pane, pressing firmly +until the glass cracked. Dislodging several of the splinters, he pushed +a hand through the opening and released the catch. In a moment he was +inside and began to pick his way cautiously across the floor. At the +farther side he opened a door, traversed another dark and deserted +room, then still another. Soon he found himself in a hall, and after +a glance up and down its length selected a door at random. The moment +he stepped inside voices reached his ears. Along the side, diagonally +across the floor from where he stood, a narrow streak of light showed +the location of the door. + +He tiptoed across the floor, placed his hand on the knob, turned it +carefully, and opened the door an infinitesimal crack. In an instant +he recognized the room. It was the office that had been the scene of +his short-lived triumph the night before. Englebreth was seated at +the desk, occupying the same wheel chair in which he had sat while +witnessing Cole’s abortive ruse. The door before which Cole now stood +was the one that had so abruptly opened while he was on the point of +telephoning Carlin. He was vaguely aware that the scene had changed +since last night, but he had no time to observe details. His attention +was instantly engrossed by the little drama taking place before his +eyes. + +On a cot placed along the farther side of the room lay Latham, and, +save for an occasional turn of the head, he lay so still that Cole, +although he could not see distinctly, guessed that he must be strapped +to the cot. Over him, bending slightly, with a wicked smile playing +about his bearded lips, stood Doctor Ballinger, and in his hand was a +small object which Cole could not distinguish. The only other occupants +of the room were Englebreth and two of the stalwart bodyguards who +always seemed to be hovering about him. + +“Yes, it was clever, Latham,” the cripple was saying. “You played your +cards just right. Whether you were serious or whether you were bluffing +is beside the point. Your death would have been ill-timed from my point +of view. I don’t think you are afraid to die, Latham. There is one +thing you are afraid of, however.” + +He stopped. For several moments the room was very still. Ballinger, +straightening his back, looked meditatively at the object in his hand, +which, as Cole now perceived, was a small bottle. + +“That one thing is blindness, Latham,” added the cripple impressively. +“Tell him, Ballinger.” + +Ballinger held the vial before the recumbent man’s eyes. “One small +particle of this fluid dropped into each of your eyes will blind you +for life,” he announced. “Not a pleasant thing to contemplate, eh, +Latham?” + +Cole started as he saw the diabolical form of persuasion that was being +employed by the conspirators to make Latham reveal what he was supposed +to know. It was a threat far more hideous than death itself. He saw +Latham’s chest heave upward as he strained against the fetters that +held him to the cot. + +“What do you say, Latham?” asked the cripple, bending slightly out of +his chair. + +“I’ll say that you and Ballinger are a pair of scurvy blackguards,” was +the physician’s retort. “I take solemn oath that I will send each of +you to jail with a black eye.” + +Ballinger laughed derisively. + +“Still stubborn, I see,” Englebreth remarked. “I am warning you for +the last time, Latham. If you think Cole can come to your rescue, you +are mistaken. Between you and me, that infernal meddler will never +leave Dutchess Point alive. With you it is different. You can make +yourself useful to us, and that is why I am offering you terms. But you +must decide quickly.” + +“Go to blazes!” said Latham, but there was a catch in his voice, +scarcely audible even to Cole’s keen ears, which told that his courage +was faltering. + +“He thinks we are bluffing, Ballinger,” said Englebreth. “We must +convince him that we are serious. Drop a little of the fluid into his +left eye. The result will prove to him that we mean business.” + +A muffled groan came from the man on the cot. Ballinger stepped closer +to the light, uncorked the little vial, cautiously inserted a small +syringe through the neck, his brows contracting as he pumped the +requisite amount of fluid into the glass tube. Now he set the bottle +down, replaced the cork, and with the syringe in his hand turned again +toward the man on the cot. A faint grin hovered about his bearded lips, +but he had taken only a step in the direction of the cot when a sharp +command rang out: + +“Stop, Ballinger!” + +As he spoke, Cole sprang forward and landed a vigorous blow with +his automatic on the right hand of the guard standing nearest to +Englebreth. A pistol dropped from the man’s limp fingers, and with an +instantaneous movement Cole picked it up. + +Ballinger jerked up his head, then stopped dead in his tracks, facing +the cot. The cripple whirled round in his swivel chair, a look of utter +consternation flooding his white face as he saw Cole, standing calmly +a foot away, a leveled automatic in each hand. The second guard leaped +forward, but in a moment Cole had him covered. + +“Drop that gun!” he ordered, making an ominous gesture with one of his +pistols. “This instant!” + +The man’s jaw sagged, and the weapon dropped from his hand. Englebreth, +sitting hunched and shuddering in his chair, stared at the intruder as +if he were seeing a specter. + +“You!” he exclaimed in a thin, rasping voice. “You——” + +Cole ignored him. His eyes gleamed like points of polished steel. +“Ballinger,” he said in a very calm voice, “I’d rather put a bullet +through your black heart, but I’m going to give you one chance for your +life. See how quickly you can cut Doctor Latham loose. A little speed +may save your life.” + +The syringe fell from Ballinger’s trembling fingers. For a moment he +hesitated, then a knife appeared in his hand, and with surprising speed +he slashed the cords around Latham’s hands and feet. A little dazedly +the physician rose from the cot. There was a dull, smoldering fever in +his eyes as he looked at Ballinger. With startling suddenness his right +hand shot out, landing a vicious blow between Ballinger’s eyes. + +“There—I promised you that!” he exclaimed grittily. “And you!” + +Again his powerful fist darted out, and a splash of crimson spurted +from the region of Englebreth’s nose. With a sigh of vast content he +looked at Cole. + +“How in the world did you——” + +“Never mind,” Cole interrupted. “Get Carlin on the telephone.” As the +physician started to obey, his cold, narrowing gaze swept each face in +the room. “I’ll shoot the moment any one moves or makes a sound,” he +declared. + +His voice had a ruthless ring, and no one moved. Englebreth, breathing +raspingly, was wiping the blood from his face while he squinted at Cole +in a dazed way. + +The physician hung up the receiver and stepped away from the telephone. + +“I got Carlin out of bed,” he reported. “He will be here in a little +while, and he will bring enough men with him to surround the place. +These human hyenas will soon be where they belong.” He looked about +him with a satisfied expression. “I hope Carlin won’t treat the speed +regulations too tenderly. I’m hungry as the deuce.” + +“So am I,” admitted Cole, a trifle absently. The throbbing and pulsing +of machinery sounded remotely in his ears, a muffled hymn of greed +and gold-maddened dreams, soon to be silenced forever. He shrugged, +and a look of fretful responsibility came into his face. “And there +is Toots,” he went on. “I’ve been neglecting Toots lately. Latham, +I’m going to give you a piece of advice, with the compliments of The +Unknown Seven. Keep shy of cats.” + + + THE END. + + + Transcriber’s Notes: + + • Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). + • Text enclosed by pluses is in small caps (+small caps+). + • Text enclosed by equals is in bold (=bold=). + • Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78010 *** diff --git a/78010-h/78010-h.htm b/78010-h/78010-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c8ccfd2 --- /dev/null +++ b/78010-h/78010-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9817 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"> + <meta name="format-detection" content="telephone=no,date=no,address=no,email=no,url=no"> + <title>The Unknown Seven | Project Gutenberg</title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + 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=== Fonts === */ +.small {font-size: small;} +.xsmall {font-size: x-small;} +.large {font-size: large;} +.xlarge {font-size: x-large;} +.xxxlarge {font-size: 250%;} + +/* === Alignment === */ +.mt6 {margin-top: 6%;} +.mt10 {margin-top: 10%;} +.mt1 {margin-top: 1%;} +.mt20 {margin-top: 20%;} +.mb2 {margin-bottom: 2%;} +.right {text-align: right; margin-right: 2%;} + +/* === Text drop caps === */ +p.drop-cap {text-indent: 0;} +p.drop-cap:first-letter { + float: left; + font-size: 2.5em; + margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; + line-height: 0.8 +} + +/* Illustration classes */ +.illowp20 {width: 20%;} +.illowp5 {width: 5%;} + </style> +</head> +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78010 ***</div> + +<div class="titlepage"> + <h1>The Unknown Seven</h1> + + <div class="large"><i>A Detective Story</i></div> + + <div class="mt10">BY<br> + <span class="xlarge">HARRY COVERDALE</span></div> + + <figure class="figcenter illowp20 mt10" id="colophon" style="max-width: 30.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/colophon.jpg" alt="" data-role="presentation"> + </figure> + + <div class="mt6 xlarge">CHELSEA HOUSE<br> + 79 Seventh Avenue <span style="padding-left: 2.5em;">New York City</span></div> +</div> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="titlepage small"> +<div class="mt20"> +Copyright, 1923<br> +By CHELSEA HOUSE</div> +<hr class="r5"> +<div>The Unknown Seven</div> + +<div class="mt20">(Printed in the United States of America)</div> + +<div class="mt1">All rights reserved, including that of translation into foreign<br> +languages, including the Scandinavian.</div> +</div> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</span> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CONTENTS">CONTENTS</h2> +</div> + + <table class="autotable"> + <thead> + <tr class="xsmall"> + <th>CHAPTER</th> + <th></th> + <th>PAGE</th> + </tr> + </thead> + <tbody> + <tr> + <td class="tdch"><a href="#chap_I">I.</a></td> + <td class="smcap">The Woman in the Limousine</td> + <td class="tdr">9</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdch"><a href="#chap_II">II.</a></td> + <td class="smcap">Temptation</td> + <td class="tdr">20</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdch"><a href="#chap_III">III.</a></td> + <td class="smcap">The Temptress Speaks</td> + <td class="tdr">36</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdch"><a href="#chap_IV">IV.</a></td> + <td class="smcap">“Yellow”</td> + <td class="tdr">46</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdch"><a href="#chap_V">V.</a></td> + <td class="smcap">Disguised</td> + <td class="tdr">58</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdch"><a href="#chap_VI">VI.</a></td> + <td class="smcap">Doctor Latham</td> + <td class="tdr">73</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdch"><a href="#chap_VII">VII.</a></td> + <td class="smcap">Cole Receives a Warning</td> + <td class="tdr">85</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdch"><a href="#chap_VIII">VIII.</a></td> + <td class="smcap">The Unknown Seven</td> + <td class="tdr">94</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdch"><a href="#chap_IX">IX.</a></td> + <td class="smcap">The Red Light</td> + <td class="tdr">106</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdch"><a href="#chap_X">X.</a></td> + <td class="smcap">Pursuit</td> + <td class="tdr">117</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdch"><a href="#chap_XI">XI.</a></td> + <td class="smcap">Behind the Locked Door</td> + <td class="tdr">125</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdch"><a href="#chap_XII">XII.</a></td> + <td class="smcap">In Four Rounds</td> + <td class="tdr">132</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdch"><a href="#chap_XIII">XIII.</a></td> + <td class="smcap">The Morning’s Mail</td> + <td class="tdr">141</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdch"><a href="#chap_XIV">XIV.</a></td> + <td class="smcap">Cole’s Ruse</td> + <td class="tdr">153</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdch"><a href="#chap_XV">XV.</a></td> + <td class="smcap">The Traitor Unmasked</td> + <td class="tdr">171</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdch"><a href="#chap_XVI">XVI.</a></td> + <td class="smcap">Gold</td> + <td class="tdr">186</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdch"><a href="#chap_XVII">XVII.</a></td> + <td class="smcap">In Room 2512</td> + <td class="tdr">201</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdch"><a href="#chap_XVIII">XVIII.</a></td> + <td class="smcap">The Light in the Window</td> + <td class="tdr">217</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdch"><a href="#chap_XIX">XIX.</a></td> + <td class="smcap">A Warning</td> + <td class="tdr">228</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdch"><a href="#chap_XX">XX.</a></td> + <td class="smcap"><span class="pagenum" id="Page_viii">[Pg viii]</span>The Veneer of Intelligence</td> + <td class="tdr">239</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdch"><a href="#chap_XXI">XXI.</a></td> + <td class="smcap">The Face at the Window</td> + <td class="tdr">256</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdch"><a href="#chap_XXII">XXII.</a></td> + <td class="smcap">A Duel of Wits</td> + <td class="tdr">265</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdch"><a href="#chap_XXIII">XXIII.</a></td> + <td class="smcap">The Seventh Ingredient</td> + <td class="tdr">271</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdch"><a href="#chap_XXIV">XXIV.</a></td> + <td class="smcap">Cornered</td> + <td class="tdr">280</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdch"><a href="#chap_XXV">XXV.</a></td> + <td class="smcap">Face to Face</td> + <td class="tdr">288</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdch"><a href="#chap_XXVI">XXVI.</a></td> + <td class="smcap">A Cry</td> + <td class="tdr">299</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdch"><a href="#chap_XXVII">XXVII.</a></td> + <td class="smcap">The Way Out</td> + <td class="tdr">309</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdch"><a href="#chap_XXVIII">XXVIII.</a></td> + <td class="smcap">The Enemy Strikes</td> + <td class="tdr">314</td> + </tr> + </tbody> + </table> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">9</span> +<div class="center xxxlarge mb2"><b>THE UNKNOWN SEVEN</b></div> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp5"> + <img class="w100" src="images/leaf.jpg" alt="" data-role="presentation"> +</figure> + +<h2 id="chap_I">CHAPTER I</h2> +<div class="subheadc">THE WOMAN IN THE LIMOUSINE</div> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">STANDING in the dark doorway of a delicatessen shop, Kingdon Cole +gazed, through the fog and drizzle of the October night, at a +second-story window across the street. The brim of a slouch hat +shaded his eyes and most of his face. His lean figure was draped in a +mackintosh that reached almost to his feet. The upward slant of the +cigar, clamped between his teeth, hinted at total absorption in what he +saw.</p> + +<p>The building that claimed his attention was an ordinary three-story +structure of murky brick. Flanked by a warehouse on one side and a +secondhand clothing store on the other, it presented a sullen and +gloomy aspect to the watcher across the street. Yet there was something +in the very drabness of the house and the chill atmosphere which hung +over it that might have appealed to the imagination of a man like +Kingdon Cole.</p> + +<p>A man’s head and shoulders were dimly silhouetted against the lighted +window shade at which he was looking so fixedly. For half an hour or +longer the figure had not stirred. The rigid poise of the head and the +stiff set of the shoulders suggested that the man at the window was +engaged in a task that occupied his whole mind.</p> + +<p>Cole struck a match and, holding it in his cupped <span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">10</span>hands, lighted his +dead cigar. The flickering light shone for an instant on fingers that +were long, slim, and finely tapering, the fingers of a man of great +mental energy and a compelling personality.</p> + +<p>“Wonder what the learned Professor Carmody finds so interesting,” he +mumbled. “Some scientific treatise, very likely, or perhaps it is——”</p> + +<p>He lowered his gaze, as he vaguely sensed that a pair of eyes was +trying to pierce the gloom in which he stood. What with the wet night +and the lateness of the hour that dreary section of Bleecker Street +was all but deserted. Now and then a crosstown car jogged along at a +lumbering pace; occasionally a taxicab passed on its way.</p> + +<p>Cole looked up and down the block. The impression was more distinct +now. Some one was watching him, just as he was watching the solitary +figure in the window. His senses, sharpened by long training, told him +he was under observation even before he could trace the impression to +its source. Now he saw a limousine drawn up at the corner, less than +twenty paces from where he stood. Its sides of burnt sienna gleamed +in the blurred lights. It seemed to lend a touch of affluence to the +squalor and dreariness of the scene. How long the car had been there +he did not know, for the window across the street had claimed all his +attention.</p> + +<p>The car began to move, crawling, snaillike and silent toward the point +where Cole stood. It stopped opposite the doorway that sheltered him. +He fancied that he saw the flicker of a face behind the curtains. Then +the door opened a few inches, and he caught a glimpse of a beckoning +hand.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">11</span></p> + +<p>His eyes narrowed under their puckering brows. The monotony of his +vigil was being broken in a strange way, and the slow twisting of his +lips signified that the interruption was not altogether displeasing. +Once more he glanced up at the window across the street, noticing that +the shadowy figure had not stirred. Then he crossed the sidewalk, and +instantly the door of the limousine was flung wide.</p> + +<p>“Won’t you step in, Mr. Cole?” asked a voice.</p> + +<p>Though his life had inured him to surprises, Cole started a little. It +was odd that the occupant of the car should address him by name. The +interior was dark, but in the shadows he saw the figure of a woman.</p> + +<p>“You are very patient, Mr. Cole,” the voice continued. “You are wasting +your time, however. It isn’t likely that Professor Carmody will go out +to-night, so you might as well jump in.”</p> + +<p>A sharp hunching of Cole’s shoulders registered surprise number two. It +was all very mystifying. Not only did the occupant of the car know his +name, but she seemed familiar with his business as well. He liked her +voice, a deep soprano with a faintly playful undertone. For a moment he +studied the long, slender lines of her figure, faintly discernible in +the dusk and melting, here and there, into a background of saffron-hued +cushions.</p> + +<p>“You hesitate? I happen to know that Professor Carmody is in for the +night and that your vigilance is useless.”</p> + +<p>Cole looked at her intently. The mist, the drizzle, and the blurred +sheen from the street lamps seemed <span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">12</span>to lend a touch of unreality to +what he saw and heard.</p> + +<p>“What do you know about Professor Carmody,” he demanded.</p> + +<p>“A great deal more than you do. It’s quite possible that I am in a +position to give you some valuable information. At any rate my car is +more comfortable than a dark doorway.”</p> + +<p>She leaned forward slightly, and there was a trace of mockery on her +faintly parted lips. “Not afraid, are you, Mr. Cole?”</p> + +<p>He gave a low laugh at the implied dare. With a shrug he stepped inside +the car and sat down beside her. She picked up the speaking tube and, +turning her head away from Cole, said something which he could not +hear. In an instant the car was in motion.</p> + +<p>“You seem to know a great deal,” he observed, trying to obtain a +glimpse of her face under the billowing brim that shaded it.</p> + +<p>“And you are anxious to learn how much more I know. Isn’t it so, Mr. +Cole? It was neither vulgar curiosity nor adventurousness that prompted +you to accept my invitation to ride with me. You accepted only because +you hoped to learn something. Having heard me speak your name and +mention Professor Carmody you naturally thought it might be profitable +to cultivate my acquaintance.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps so,” said Cole dryly. “What do you know about me aside from my +name and my interest in the estimable professor?”</p> + +<p>“A great deal,” was the surprisingly prompt reply. “You are a student +of criminology, a follower in the <span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">13</span>footsteps of Lombroso, Pinel, and +Prichard, though you by no means accept their theories. You have +written two books on crime and criminals. They are too scientific for +the general reader, I have been told, but experts on the subject regard +them as authoritative. Perhaps some day I shall try to read them.”</p> + +<p>“I fear you won’t find them very interesting,” replied Cole. “What +else?”</p> + +<p>“You live in a small apartment in Gramercy Park, which also serves as +your office. Two years ago you did a very brilliant piece of work on +the Wilmerding murder case, though you magnanimously, or for reasons of +your own, let the police claim the credit for the results. You follow +criminal investigations largely as a scientific pursuit. If you cared +to devote all your time to it you could make a great success, but you +accept only such cases as happen to interest you personally. As a +result you lead a quiet and somewhat precarious existence, deriving +your sole pleasure from your work and such inexpensive amusements as +books, music, and, on rare occasions, the theater.”</p> + +<p>“You seem to have taken considerable pains looking me up,” he remarked.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I haven’t told you all I know yet. I have learned a number of +things about your private life and personal habits, but we needn’t go +into those things now.”</p> + +<p>“Are you equally well informed in regard to Professor Carmody?”</p> + +<p>“Not quite. The professor is a riddle. To all outward appearances he is +interested in nothing but <span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">14</span>his experiments and his musty old books. He +seems to be living in that kind of neighborhood by preference, because +he isn’t so apt to be bothered by meddling neighbors. His house is said +to contain one of the best-equipped laboratories of its kind in the +world. That’s only a rumor, of course. The professor doesn’t encourage +visitors. To the few people who have talked with him he is what the +novelists call a man of mystery. He comes and goes without speaking +to any one, and his life is a closed book. As far as I know, only one +person has been inside his house in a year, and that person never came +out.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, you know that!”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I am one of the very few who are aware of the fact. Let me see, +it’s about three weeks since Malcolm Reeves disappeared. His relatives, +your clients, in other words, have reason to believe that he visited +Professor Carmody on the night of his disappearance. No wonder the +case fascinates you, Mr. Cole. Disappearances are always interesting, +but especially so when a mysterious person like Professor Carmody is +involved.”</p> + +<p>Cole regarded her in frank amazement, but her head was now slightly +bowed, and all he could see of her face was the curve of the chin.</p> + +<p>“The relatives did well to put the case in your hands,” she went on. +“You are both capable and discreet and, as I presume you know, there +were excellent reasons for not reporting Reeves’ disappearance to the +police. Are you making satisfactory progress?”</p> + +<p>“My clients seem satisfied.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">15</span></p> + +<p>“You have not yet paid the professor a visit?”</p> + +<p>“What would be the use?”</p> + +<p>“You are right, of course. It would only put him on his guard. You +prefer not to let him know that he is under suspicion.” She laughed +gently, as if amused at something. “Besides, it is doubtful whether a +search of Carmody’s house would reveal any clews to Reeves’ fate. The +professor is a chemist, and I understand there are certain chemical +processes by which bodies can be made to disappear completely, leaving +no trace.”</p> + +<p>“Then you think Reeves has been murdered?”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you?” she asked quickly.</p> + +<p>Cole smiled. Instead of answering the question he asked another. “How +can you be so sure that Carmody will not leave his house to-night?”</p> + +<p>“Because he has the best of reasons for staying in.”</p> + +<p>“What are they?”</p> + +<p>“One is that his engagement for to-night was canceled by telephone at +four o’clock this afternoon.”</p> + +<p>Cole gave her a puzzled stare. “How do you know that?”</p> + +<p>She laughed a little. “There are ways of finding out,” she said +mysteriously. “Tapped wires, for instance. But the professor’s +principal reason for staying in to-night is that he is well aware that +you are watching him. You see, Mr. Cole, he has more shrewdness than +you have been giving him credit for. And the fact that he is staying in +on your account shows that he has great respect for your ability.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">16</span></p> + +<p>She had raised her head a trifle, and Cole gave her a long, bewildered +glance. He half expected to see a smile on her lips, but her face was +grave.</p> + +<p>“Are you one of Reeves’ relatives?” he asked abruptly.</p> + +<p>“Oh, no!”</p> + +<p>“Then how——”</p> + +<p>“I have certain sources of information. Sources so vast that you would +be staggered if I were to tell you of them. Please don’t look at me +like that. I am not insane, neither am I subject to hallucinations. The +fact that I happen to know more about the Carmody case than you do is +no reflection on your ability as an investigator. It merely shows that +your equipment is inadequate. Care to hear more?”</p> + +<p>“What else do you know?”</p> + +<p>“I know that the case you are working on is only one minor angle of a +vast mystery. The disappearance of Malcolm Reeves is nothing but an +incident. Reeves himself was only an insignificant puppet in one of +the greatest games ever played. All you have seen so far is one of the +minor threads in the woof. I am always mixing my metaphors, but I know +you won’t mind. Mr. Cole, this affair has ramifications that may some +day rock the whole continent.”</p> + +<p>“I feel considerably shaken up already,” admitted Cole. “You realize, +of course, that you are using strong words?”</p> + +<p>“No stronger than the situation demands.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">17</span></p> + +<p>“If it is as bad as all that why doesn’t somebody put a stop to it?”</p> + +<p>“Because——” She checked herself and regarded him intently. “Well, +because the man who is big enough for the task has not yet been found.”</p> + +<p>Again Cole cast a glance at the window. The car had made several +turns in the last few minutes. He caught only a blurred view of his +surroundings, but he thought they were traversing one of the cavernlike +streets near the southern tip of Manhattan Island.</p> + +<p>“Have you heard enough?” she asked.</p> + +<p>“Just enough to give me an appetite for more.”</p> + +<p>“In that case you must trust me implicitly and obey me without +questions. I am taking desperate chances in confiding in you, Mr. Cole, +and certain precautions are absolutely necessary. Will you promise me +on your honor that you will not try to ascertain the location of the +place I shall take you to?”</p> + +<p>Cole considered. There was a flavor of mystery about the adventure that +appealed to him, but the prospect of learning something more about the +Carmody case was an even greater temptation. From what little the woman +had so far told him he surmised that she must have unusual sources of +information. Much that she had said coincided with what he already +knew, so he had no cause to doubt her truthfulness.</p> + +<p>“You have my promise,” he told her.</p> + +<p>The car made another turn, swung down a dark block, then veered again +to the south. Cole caught a hazy glimpse of dark, towering skyscrapers.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">18</span></p> + +<p>The woman looked at him fixedly, as if in doubt. “I believe you are a +man of your word, Mr. Cole, but promises are sometimes broken in spite +of the best intentions. Please don’t be offended.”</p> + +<p>She produced a scarf and with a deft touch covered his eyes, securing +the bandage with a firm knot at the back. Cole chuckled amusedly. He +might be walking into a trap, but it would not be the first time, and +he had great confidence in his ability to take care of himself in any +situation that might come up.</p> + +<p>After continuing its zigzagging course a few minutes longer the car +stopped. His mysterious conductress touched his arm as they stepped +out. She guided him across the sidewalk and up a few stone steps, and +then they traversed what appeared to be a long corridor. Finally Cole +found himself in a narrow inclosure which he guessed to be an elevator.</p> + +<p>“We are in one of the tallest office buildings in New York,” the woman +whispered in his ear, “but you’re not likely to guess its name.”</p> + +<p>The door clanked shut, and the cage shot swiftly upward. Cole felt +a rush of wind in his ears. He maintained a languid composure, but +inwardly he marveled. A modern skyscraper was the last place he would +have expected the woman to take him to. He tried to estimate the number +of floors they were passing. Five, ten, fifteen, twenty——</p> + +<p>Still the cage darted upward, and then it stopped so suddenly that +he caught his breath sharply. They stepped out, and the girl removed +the scarf from his eyes. He gazed around him bewilderedly. All about +him, with the exception of a single elevator <span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">19</span>shaft was a vast expanse +of blank wall. There was no sign of doors or windows, and the only +illumination was a small electric bulb in the ceiling.</p> + +<p>“We came up in a private elevator,” the woman explained. “This is the +top floor. To the public at large and to most of the tenants of the +building it practically does not exist. This way, Mr. Cole.”</p> + +<p>She stepped to one of the corners of the triangular space, of which the +elevator shaft formed the center, and Cole followed. In the dim light +he could not see exactly what happened, but the woman’s hand went out +and then a narrow portion of the wall slid back. They stepped through +an aperture, and instantly the opening closed behind them. They were in +a long corridor with doors on each side.</p> + +<p>“Surprised?” she asked, starting to lead him down the hall.</p> + +<p>“Rather. Never expected to find such mysterious contrivances in a +modern office building.”</p> + +<p>Her only reply was a low laugh. The floor of the corridor was +luxuriously carpeted; the doors on either side had a solid appearance. +Cole’s amazement grew. He wondered what was beyond the massive doors +and what was the nature of this establishment that was hidden behind +blank walls. He had little time for speculation, for his companion +opened a door and bade him enter.</p> + +<p>“Excuse me, Mr. Cole,” she murmured when she had switched on the light. +“I shall be back directly.”</p> + +<p>The door closed, and she was gone. Alone, Cole looked about him, and +his eyes opened wide in astonishment.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">20</span> +<h2 id="chap_II">CHAPTER II</h2> +<div class="subheadc">TEMPTATION</div> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">FOR a moment Cole forgot that he was in a building devoted to the +pursuits of commerce. The room in which he stood, bordered by walls of +paneled walnut, was worthy of a Fifth Avenue mansion. It struck him as +a bit grotesque. From an elevator he had stepped, through a blank wall, +into a magnificence that fairly dazzled him. It was like an “Arabian +Nights” adventure. As he looked about him he saw quiet elegance +everywhere, without a taint of showiness. For some time he stood lost +in admiration, then he noticed that the room had no windows. A moment +later he discovered that the door was locked on the outside. Despite +the splendor that surrounded him he was virtually a prisoner.</p> + +<p>He sat down and smoked a cigarette, waiting for his strange conductress +to return. Evidently the walls were solidly built, for no sounds +reached him. The air was fresh and pure despite the absence of windows, +hinting that there was a concealed ventilator somewhere in the room.</p> + +<p>The armchair was comfortable, and he stretched out his lean figure, +slightly short of six feet. The man suggested mental force rather +than bodily strength, but a great surprise awaited any antagonist who +underestimated Cole’s physical prowess. He was far stronger than the +average man, and his <span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">21</span>endurance was phenomenal. His gray eyes, with a +faint humorous twinkle in their depths, were fixed on the door. His +dark face, slightly lined about the mouth and the outer corner of the +eyes, bore a look of mild expectancy. In moments of repose he looked as +though he had not a care in the world. His friends often wondered how +he managed to maintain the freshness and sparkle suggestive of a recent +needle shower. Perhaps it was because he was thoroughly in love with +his work and had learned to shake off the minor frets and irritations +of life.</p> + +<p>In the midst of his musings the door opened, and he stared rather +rudely at the vision that entered. It was the woman, and she had +undergone an amazing transformation since he last saw her. He wondered +whether the shimmering gown she wore had been designed by Poiret +himself. Its delicate rose color afforded a charming contrast to her +complexion, a sort of luminous white that somehow escaped being pale. +Standing there, with a faint smile on her lips, her face fringed by an +aureole of fine-spun gold, she was easily the most bewitching woman +Cole had ever seen.</p> + +<p>He rose, bowed, and gazed appreciatively at the simple, but strikingly +effective, ornament she wore at her throat.</p> + +<p>“Sorry to have kept you waiting,” she murmured. “Sit down, please, and +smoke as much as you like. I want to talk with you.”</p> + +<p>Cole sat down. He wondered if she had arrayed herself like this for the +sole purpose of having a talk with him.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">22</span></p> + +<p>“You promised to tell me something more about the Carmody case,” he +reminded her. “I suppose you brought me to this charming place so +that we might have a quiet talk without danger of interruption or +eavesdropping.”</p> + +<p>She sat down a short distance from him. By degrees the smile faded from +her lips. A curiously solemn expression crept into her face. “Haven’t I +told you enough, Mr. Cole?”</p> + +<p>“What little you told me was only a provocation. It gave me a taste for +more. By the way, you have the advantage over me. Won’t you tell me +your name?”</p> + +<p>“You may call me Miss Brown.”</p> + +<p>“The name doesn’t fit you,” he objected.</p> + +<p>“Names never do fit. That’s one of the ironies of existence. For the +present, until we know each other better, it will have to be Miss +Brown. I had to tell you a little about the Carmody case in order to +get your attention. I hope I convinced you that it is quite useless +for you to continue at work on a case that is so enormous in scope and +presents such insuperable difficulties, Mr. Cole.” A pleading note had +come into her voice. “Can anything persuade you to drop the Carmody +case?”</p> + +<p>She bent forward a little. With hands clasped across her knee, she +studied him intently, and Cole looked into the deepest, bluest eyes he +had ever seen.</p> + +<p>“Drop the Carmody case!” he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>“You must drop it, Mr. Cole! If you knew more about it, what terrible +things you are going up against, you would willingly drop it without +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">23</span>further argument. You would recognize your utter helplessness in the +matter, not to mention a number of other things.”</p> + +<p>Cole was momentarily speechless. He found himself strangely impressed +by her big, sorcerous eyes, full of mute pleading and entreaty.</p> + +<p>“I don’t understand. You don’t realize what you are saying. Why should +I drop the case?”</p> + +<p>“Because of the things I have told you.”</p> + +<p>Cole laughed. “They are only an added incentive for me to go on with +it.”</p> + +<p>She drew a long breath. “That’s your man’s way of looking at things. +The greater the dangers and difficulties the more determined you are +to forge ahead. You don’t stop to consider the price, or estimate the +cost. The wreckage you scatter about you means nothing to you. All you +think of is the gratification of your boundless ambition. Mr. Cole, +won’t you forgo your foolish pride and do what I ask?”</p> + +<p>Her eyes held him despite his will. There was a look of terror in +their depths that exerted a subtle appeal upon him. He got to his feet +and tried to shake off the fascination of her beauty and her magnetic +personality.</p> + +<p>“Impossible,” he declared. “If you brought me here in the hope of +inducing me to drop the Carmody case, your time and effort are wasted.”</p> + +<p>“Please, Mr. Cole! Forget that you ever heard of this terrible case. +Tell your clients in the morning that you will have nothing further to +do with it.”</p> + +<p>“That wouldn’t alter matters. They would <span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">24</span>promptly accept my +resignation and engage somebody else.”</p> + +<p>“There is only one Kingdon Cole.”</p> + +<p>“That’s a very neat compliment, but it won’t bear analysis. I haven’t +accomplished anything very wonderful, and another man could finish what +I have begun.”</p> + +<p>She was silent for a time, her big, luminous eyes regarding him +imploringly. “If you won’t drop the case for your own sake, because of +the terrible dangers involved, then I beg you to do so for my sake.”</p> + +<p>“For your sake? Really, Miss—er—Brown, I don’t understand. What is your +interest in the Carmody case?”</p> + +<p>She stepped up and clutched his hand. The touch of her fingers sent +a thrill through him. Her eyes were moist, and the curve beneath her +throat rose and fell with accelerated rhythm. “Yes, for my sake. I +can’t explain, except to say that awful things will happen to me if you +go on. Death would be as nothing in comparison. Doesn’t a woman’s soul +mean anything to you, Mr. Cole?”</p> + +<p>Cole looked down into her eyes, while her fingers spasmodically +clutched his hand. Far into their blue depths he gazed, and suddenly +his face underwent a change. His lips curled a trifle, and a hard glint +came into his eyes. Somewhat roughly he released his hand.</p> + +<p>“Very touching,” he dryly remarked, “but I don’t see the connection +between the Carmody case and a woman’s soul.”</p> + +<p>She drew back with a little sob of bafflement.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">25</span></p> + +<p>“If you meant your own soul, Miss Brown, you mentioned something that +doesn’t exist,” he went on sarcastically. “Trickery and pretense are +poor substitutes for soul.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?”</p> + +<p>He shrugged disgustedly. “Your acting is superb, but it don’t bear +close inspection. You were splendid at a little distance. Despite the +fact that I am the only Kingdon Cole, as you so charmingly phrased it, +I am rather susceptible to the tears of a beautiful woman. With your +sobs and your loveliness you could have melted a stone, if such a feat +were possible. As soon as I got a close view of you, however, I knew +you were only shamming. Your eyes gave you away when you sprung that +choice line about a woman’s soul. Perhaps you realized you were laying +the pathos on too thick. Anyway the illusion is shattered, and all that +remains is the gorgeous gown you are wearing. It is really stunning.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you,” she said coldly, dropping the rôle she had been playing, +as easily as she would a wrap. “No doubt I should have known better +than to try such methods on you.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, you should,” said Cole. “For, despite the little slip you made, +I believe that you are really a very clever woman. Now that we are off +the subject of women’s souls won’t you tell me your real reason for +wishing to throw up the Carmody case?”</p> + +<p>She shook her head, but he thought he detected a gleam of unwilling +admiration in her eyes. Motioning him to follow, she stepped to the +door and <span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">26</span>opened it, then preceded him down the hall. Cole guessed that +his little adventure was over, and he felt a twinge of disappointment +at the thought that, in all probability, he would never learn the +meaning of her puzzling behavior. No doubt she would try to blindfold +him again before conducting him away from the place, and he was +prepared to raise strenuous objections.</p> + +<p>But it appeared Miss Brown was not yet ready to let him go. She stopped +before one of the massive doors that had already excited his curiosity, +and knocked twice. It opened quickly and noiselessly. In a moment, +before he realized what he was doing, Cole was inside, and the door +closed at his back.</p> + +<p>The room was so dimly lighted that at first he could distinguish +nothing but bare, gloomy walls. Miss Brown, who had followed him into +the room, hastened forward and seemed to melt away in the dusk, leaving +him to wonder what new turn his adventure was taking. Gradually, as his +eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, he was able to see objects with some +degree of clearness. He was in a long, narrow room, and what he saw +was in keeping with the other strange things that he had witnessed and +experienced in this surprising establishment.</p> + +<p>A number of shadowy figures were seated around a circular table in +the center of the room. He counted seven of them, and at first he had +a ludicrous impression that there were only blank spaces where their +faces should have been. Then, as his pupils continued to respond to the +strain imposed <span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">27</span>by the dim light, he saw that each man wore a mask. +It was only a strip of cloth, with tiny slits over the eyes, but in +the dusk it was the only covering that was needed to make recognition +impossible.</p> + +<p>Again Cole was struck with a sense of unreality. The men, sitting +stiffly erect in their chairs, caused him to wonder whether he was in +the midst of some ghostly séance. He felt their eyes searching him +through the vents in the masks. The gloom and the silence gave an added +illusory touch to the scene. Cole had to shake himself before he could +realize that he was on the top floor of a modern skyscraper.</p> + +<p>Miss Brown stepped behind one of the chairs and held a brief whispered +conversation with its occupant. The latter nodded, and the girl +slipped away toward the door. A moment later it closed behind her, and +the man, with whom she had been talking, indicated that Cole was to +step forward. With a shrug he complied, and the masked faces stirred +slightly as he approached. For a full minute nothing was said, and +again he felt the sharp and steady scrutiny of seven pairs of eyes. +Finally the man who had beckoned him spoke. “Mr. Cole, how much will +you take to drop the Carmody case?”</p> + +<p>Cole could not help but laugh. The words, spoken with a directness +and a matter-of-factness that left nothing to the imagination, had +shattered the illusion completely. In an instant the spell of unreality +was broken. He knew he was dealing with practical men who were in the +habit of reducing everything to terms of dollars and cents. A blunt +reply came <span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">28</span>to his lips, but his desire to learn more of these strange +men caused him to hold it back.</p> + +<p>“Suppose we put all the cards on the table,” he suggested. “I don’t +like to talk business in the dark. Who are you, and what is your +objection to my connection with the Carmody case?”</p> + +<p>“We are not here to answer questions,” declared the one who seemed to +be acting as spokesman for the others. “All I care to say is that, +because of a peculiar combination of circumstances, it is to our +advantage to pay you liberally for withdrawing from the case. What’s +your price, Mr. Cole?”</p> + +<p>Under ordinary circumstances, Cole would have been indignant at this +cool assumption that every man has his price, but now his dominant +emotion was curiosity. He could not understand why they seemed so +intent upon persuading him to sever his connection with the affair, but +what Miss Brown had said about the vast ramifications of the Carmody +case suggested that they had ample reasons for what they were doing.</p> + +<p>“Let me get this straight,” he said evenly. “You are willing to pay me +my price for withdrawing from the Carmody case. Are there any strings +to the proposition?”</p> + +<p>The other chuckled dryly. “I wouldn’t call them strings, exactly. They +are only gossamer threads. In addition to retiring from the case you +are to give us a full and veracious report of what you have discovered +to date in connection with the disappearance of Malcolm Reeves.”</p> + +<p>“I see,” said Cole. “Anything else?”</p> + +<p>“Just one thing more. In addition to withdrawing <span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">29</span>from your present +connection with the case and turning the information you possess over +to us, you are to come over to our side and put your ability at our +disposal. We are ready to pay you handsomely for your services, either +on a contingent basis, or in the form of a weekly salary.”</p> + +<p>“Very generous,” declared Cole, with a faint trace of sarcasm. “Your +proposition is that, for a consideration, I am to betray my present +clients and——”</p> + +<p>“Betray is a harsh word,” objected the spokesman for the group.</p> + +<p>“Truthful terms are usually harsh,” Cole remarked. “Let’s not quibble +over words. In addition to the amount, which you are willing to pay me +for betraying my clients, you offer to reward me liberally for certain +services that you require. May I ask what they are?”</p> + +<p>“You will learn soon enough if you accept our proposition. Let me state +that we have unlimited funds at our disposal and stand ready to pay +you well. It would be no exaggeration to say that in a short time you +should be a rich man if you accept our offer. In view of our liberality +don’t you think it behooves you to be less squeamish and ask fewer +questions?”</p> + +<p>“I suppose it is in deucedly bad taste for me to argue with a man who +offers me a fortune on a silver platter,” Cole admitted. “Just the same +I can’t help wondering why you are offering such a glittering bribe to +one who is practically unknown in his profession.”</p> + +<p>The man gave an amused chuckle. “Don’t worry <span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">30</span>about that, Mr. Cole. +We are not in the habit of buying pigs in a poke. You have been under +observation for some time.”</p> + +<p>“So I gathered from what the bewitching Miss—Brown told me.”</p> + +<p>“We have learned that you have a great deal of ability. You are +fearless and persevering. You have qualities that the average +professional detective sadly lacks, such as tact, polish, and a +magnetic personality. In short, you are precisely the kind of man +we need. We have reason to believe that you have discovered certain +interesting facts in connection with Malcolm Reeves’ disappearance, +facts which would naturally become our property if you came over to our +side.”</p> + +<p>Cole marveled at the extent of the man’s knowledge. It was true that he +had picked up several stray facts which, when considered in conjunction +with the known circumstances of Reeves’ disappearance, made a fairly +interesting showing. His glance wandered over the circle of veiled +faces. Each of the seven men was watching him intently through the +slits in his mask.</p> + +<p>“We are waiting for your decision, Mr. Cole,” remarked the spokesman +after a pause. “If our proposition appeals to you, name your price.”</p> + +<p>Cole pretended to hesitate. He hoped to learn a little more before he +closed the interview. He wondered how far these men would go in their +efforts to induce him to betray his clients and transfer his allegiance +to themselves. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” he asked. “Do you +realize <span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">31</span>that a man who has been bought once will probably sell himself +again?”</p> + +<p>Though he could not see, he fancied the spokesman’s eyes were twinkling +behind the mask.</p> + +<p>“We have considered everything, Mr. Cole. You wouldn’t sell yourself +except to a higher bidder, and it isn’t likely any one will outbid us. +If such a situation should arise, however, we would know how to handle +it. What is your price?”</p> + +<p>“Suppose you name the price you are willing to pay?”</p> + +<p>There was a craning of necks, and nods and subdued whispers passed +around the circle. Evidently the seven construed his words as meaning +that he was yielding. The spokesman unlocked a drawer in front of him +and placed a small package on the table.</p> + +<p>“Twenty-five thousand dollars,” he remarked impressively. “If you are +in doubt as to the amount, or if you suspect that I am handing you +stage money, you will be permitted to examine it in the light.”</p> + +<p>He handed the package to Cole. “Remember that this is only your +retaining fee, so to speak. There will be lots more coming to you if +you decide to throw in your lot with us.”</p> + +<p>Cole felt the crisp fiber of the bills. He did not doubt that the money +was genuine or that the package contained the exact amount mentioned +by the spokesman. Whatever else these men might do, he did not think +they would stoop to petty cheating. An odd sensation surged through him +as he weighed the currency in the palm of his hand. It was more <span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">32</span>money +than had ever before come within his reach. Of a sudden he remembered +some of the things he had been compelled to deny himself because of +his slender and uncertain income. Until this moment, when he held the +wherewithal in his hand, it had not occurred to him that he was missing +any of the good things in life. He had accepted his privations, as a +matter of course, with a smile or a shrug, according to his mood of the +moment.</p> + +<p>For a few seconds longer he gave himself over to thrill of possession, +and then he tossed the bundle of currency down on the table. “It isn’t +enough,” he declared.</p> + +<p>A chorus of murmurs went around the circular table. The veiled faces +strained forward a little. Once again Cole fancied the spokesman’s eyes +were twinkling through the orifices in the mask.</p> + +<p>“Splendid, Mr. Cole,” said the man approvingly. “I didn’t think +twenty-five thousand would satisfy you, but I wanted to make sure. As a +matter of fact, if you had accepted such a paltry amount, we would have +broken off the negotiations instantly. We don’t want a man who holds +himself cheap. Here”—again he opened the drawer in front of him—“is +another twenty-five thousand. That makes fifty. Quite a neat sum for a +man whose income last year was only a trifle over four thousand.”</p> + +<p>“How did you know that?”</p> + +<p>“Income-tax reports,” said the man.</p> + +<p>Cole took one bundle of currency in each hand. He was no longer +marveling at the surprising sources of information that seemed to be +open to these men. For the moment all his senses were <span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">33</span>centered on the +wealth that lay in his palms. A flash of self-revelation came to him, +and he was surprised and frightened by it. He had never known that mere +money could give him such a delectable sensation. In the past, as a +passive onlooker, he had smiled tolerantly at other men’s scramble for +wealth. With philosophic eyes he had watched the money-mad procession +sweep by him. Now he found that the sheer touch of the currency sent a +contagion through his veins, awakening strange emotions within him.</p> + +<p>The sensation put an indefinable fear into him, fear of himself and +the weakness he had just discovered. Of a sudden the currency seemed +to scorch his palms. He shrugged, and the spell was broken. With an +inward paroxysm he flung the money down on the table. “Not even that is +enough,” he announced in slightly dazed tones, like one just awakening +from a dream.</p> + +<p>The spokesman’s head came up a little. With a shrug and an indistinct +mutter he once more opened the drawer, but Cole laid a detaining hand +on his sleeve.</p> + +<p>“Wait!” he said quietly. “You are going ahead on the idea that every +man has his price. You’re mistaken. There isn’t money enough in the +whole United States treasury to buy me.”</p> + +<p>There came a hush, and then a ripple of commotion went around the +table. It died instantly as the spokesman raised a silencing hand. He +tilted his head back, and through the holes in the mask his eyes bored +into Cole’s face. For a time not a sound was heard in the room. Finally +the spokesman <span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">34</span>gave a short, contemptuous laugh. “I see,” he declared. +“You’re a weakling like most men. You’re a slave to the absurd thing we +call conscience. I had hoped that you were one of the rare exceptions.”</p> + +<p>“Wrong again,” said Cole, smiling. “It isn’t conscience. Anyway, I +wouldn’t call it that. It is only pride, a foolish pride, perhaps. I +want to go through life knowing that I can look every man straight in +the eye and tell him to go to the devil if necessary. I couldn’t do +that if I were to sell myself. I should become a despicable thing in my +own eyes, and life wouldn’t be worth living after that. I don’t suppose +you understand, but that’s just how I feel.”</p> + +<p>Seven pairs of eyes were leveled at Cole’s face as his short, crisp +sentences fell on the tense air. Then came silence, a long and oddly +vibrant silence during which Cole experienced an unaccountable feeling +that his life hung in the balance. He could neither understand it nor +trace it to its source, but the nameless sense of danger grew more +distinct with every moment.</p> + +<p>By instinct his hand went to the hip pocket in which he always carried +a small, but reliable, pistol. Before his hands could touch the weapon +a strange thing happened. The spokesman’s arm described a slight +movement in the dusk, and in a twinkling utter darkness fell. Cole +stood in blackness so intense that it seemed as though he could touch +it.</p> + +<p>His fingers found the handle of the pistol, but in the next instant his +hand fell to his side. In that impenetrable darkness the weapon was of +no more <span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">35</span>avail than a toy. He heard a faint scraping of chairs, then a +patter of feet. He groped for the chair where the spokesman had sat, +but it was empty. Gradually the faint sounds ceased, and then came an +engulfing silence. It was as if every manifestation of life had been +drained out of the blackness that surrounded him.</p> + +<p>Silence—darkness—solitude. Cole, as he dropped into the spokesman’s +chair, felt as if the three words had suddenly acquired a new and more +powerful significance.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">36</span> +<h2 id="chap_III">CHAPTER III</h2> +<div class="subheadc">THE TEMPTRESS SPEAKS</div> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">FIVE minutes passed. Cole could no longer control his restlessness. He +got up from the chair and went gropingly across the heavily carpeted +floor. His footsteps made scarcely a sound, and he had a queer +sensation that the darkness and silence were insinuating themselves +into his very pores. It was as if a magic spell had fallen over him. He +could no longer trust his reason or his senses.</p> + +<p>He stopped short as a faint whisper went through the dead silence. With +head thrown back and straining his ears, he listened. Again the whisper +came, trailing through the blackness like a disembodied breath. He +groped in the direction whence the sound came, and now he could hear it +quite distinctly.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Cole!”</p> + +<p>Tracing the sound vibrations, he crossed the floor and brought up +against the wall. Again his name was spoken, and now he had an +impression that the speaker was only a few feet away. He thought he +recognized the voice.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Cole!”</p> + +<p>His highly sensitized ears gauged and dissected each small fraction +of a syllable. He knew he was not mistaken. The voice belonged to the +woman who had introduced herself by the absurdly inappropriate name of +Miss Brown.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">37</span></p> + +<p>“Where are you?” he asked. He fumbled with his hands in the dark, but +found nothing but emptiness. He turned and ran his fingers up and +down the wall until he encountered a metallic object imbedded in the +paneling. Again his name was called, and he gave a short laugh as he +realized that the sounds were coming to him through the mouthpiece of a +speaking tube. The touch of the cold metal against his fingers seemed +to shatter an illusion. Simple though the contrivance was, it smacked +of up-to-dateness. A sense of reality broke the spell which the weird +events of the night had cast over him.</p> + +<p>“Hello,” he spoke into the mouthpiece. “You, Miss Brown?”</p> + +<p>A brief pause, and then her voice came to him in hurried tones that +bespoke intense excitement. “Yes, Mr. Cole. I must warn you. I feel +responsible for your predicament. Awful things will happen if you +persist in your headstrong course. You must abandon it and accept the +proposition that was made to you. Otherwise——”</p> + +<p>Her voice quavered and broke. The suspended sentence and the words she +had left unspoken impressed Cole grimly. He could almost see her, white +and shuddering at the other end of the speaking tube. Though he knew +she was a clever actress, there was an earnestness in her tones that +gave him pause.</p> + +<p>“You mean these men will kill me unless I accept their vile terms?” he +asked.</p> + +<p>“Oh, they will do worse than that! They are terrible men, Mr. Cole, +and they are in a desperate <span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">38</span>temper. Death, a hundred deaths, would +be preferable to the thing they intend doing. Won’t you come to your +senses before it’s too late? Oh, please——”</p> + +<p>Cole laughed into the mouthpiece. “Compose yourself, Miss Brown. Don’t +worry on my account. I’ve been in tight corners before, and I always +wriggled out of them somehow. I shall do so this time.”</p> + +<p>A sob sounded at the other end, and then all was quiet. Cole drew away +from the speaking tube. It might have been only another bit of clever +acting, but Miss Brown’s warning had left him in a state of tingling +suspense. She had hinted at dire things that were to happen to him, +and Cole tried to tell himself that she had only been exercising +her imagination. Such things belonged in the realm of romance and +melodrama. It was laughable to think that they might happen on the top +floor of a skyscraper, located close to the world’s financial nerve +center. The incongruity of it struck Cole as quite amusing.</p> + +<p>He chuckled, but in the next instant he sharply caught his breath. A +sound resembling that of a clicking lock reached his ears. He heard +nothing more, but he had a feeling that some one had entered the room, +that he was no longer alone. Instinctively he braced himself to resist +an attack. His ears were keyed to catch the slightest sound; every +muscle in his body had the tension of a cocked trigger.</p> + +<p>He stood with his back against the wall, all his senses quiveringly +alert. He could neither hear <span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">39</span>nor see, but he knew some one was +steadily approaching from the farther end of the long room. Presently +he could hear sounds of breathing, but the prowler’s progress was +still muffled by the heavy carpet. Now a little thud signified that +the intruder had walked up against the circular table, so he could +be no more than a few feet from where Cole stood. The fact that he +could not see who it was that was coming toward him made the suspense +nerve-racking.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he thought of matches. He searched his pockets, but the little +case in which he usually carried them was empty. Somewhere in the room +there must be an electric-light switch, but it was not likely he could +find it in the dark.</p> + +<p>He peered sharply into the blackness. Now his ears caught a pawing +sound, like that of some one crawling on hands and knees. He bent +forward a little, shoulders squared, for he knew the prowler was only a +foot or two away. Evidently he hoped Cole was unaware of his entrance +and expected to take his victim by surprise.</p> + +<p>A fumbling hand swept Cole’s knees, and he kicked out his foot with +great force, foiling the attempt to trip him. A startled yell testified +to the effectiveness of the kick, but in the next instant Cole knew +that his adversary had risen to his feet and was changing his tactics. +His fist struck out, but it landed on a body hard and firm as rock, and +the only apparent result of the blow was a stinging sensation in his +knuckles. He tried to strike again, but now his shoulders were seized +in a powerful grip <span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">40</span>that pinned his arms to his side and rendered him +helpless.</p> + +<p>His mind worked quickly, while the enormous weight of his adversary +bore him down. Evidently he was a huge man, and his arms were hard +as flails. Even if Cole’s hands had been free, his fists would have +made no stronger impression on the man’s body than on a wall of brick. +Though nimbler and more wiry than his opponent, Cole knew he could not +match him in brute strength and physical endurance. His only hope lay +in releasing his arms and, striking at the fellow’s face, batter him +into insensibility.</p> + +<p>He writhed and wriggled in the powerful embrace of the gigantic arms, +resisting the downward pressure till he felt as if his spine must snap. +Inch by inch his opponent was bending him to his knees, and all the +while his arms felt as if they were caught between metal springs. In +vain he put every ounce of strength into the struggle; the mountainous +body of his adversary was constantly forcing him downward. Already his +knees were touching the floor, and his neck felt as if it were being +gradually wrenched out of shape.</p> + +<p>His breath grew weak and fluttering. His heart pounded against his ribs +like a trip hammer. In the blackness tiny specks whirled before his +eyes. He knew the struggle must end soon, and the realization seemed +to kindle a flame within him. An idea shot like a flash through his +reeling mind.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he grew limp in the sturdy arms of his opponent. With a +grunt of satisfaction the latter let go his hold, and Cole lay flat +and inert <span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">41</span>on his back. For a few moments he drank huge gulps of air +into his straining lungs. Then, with the elastic swiftness of a spring +suddenly released, he leaped to his feet. With one hand he located his +adversary, with the other he drove a savage blow straight into the +man’s face.</p> + +<p>A short cry of pain and rage broke from the other’s lips. His hands +fumbled at Cole’s throat for a strangle hold, but the merciless +hammering of the latter’s fists drove him steadily backward. Whenever +his fingers tightened around Cole’s windpipe a rain of smashing blows +to nose and mouth forced him to relax his hold and retreat a little +farther toward the wall. Cole, his strength electrified by the joy of +battle, did not notice that his knuckles were bruised. Time and again, +with a sureness of aim that surprised himself, he drove them into the +other’s torn and mangled face. Already a stertorous breathing told that +his adversary was becoming groggy. Cole summoned all his strength for a +final knock-out blow.</p> + +<p>He flung his arm backward, and in the same instant the other uttered a +loud yell. Cole cut it short with a crashing thrust of his fist. With a +gasp his opponent went to the floor. For a moment he gave himself over +to the thrill of victory, but in the next instant he was all alertness. +A faint click signified that the door had opened, and now several pairs +of feet were stealing swiftly across the floor.</p> + +<p>Cole whirled around on his heels, but a stalwart form collided with +him, nearly sweeping him off his feet. Another hurled himself upon him +from <span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">42</span>behind, and a third jerked his legs from under him. With a sharp +sense of bafflement, Cole fell headlong to the floor. He struck out +with hands and feet, fighting with desperate vehemence, determined to +inflict all the injury he could on his opponents.</p> + +<p>But he was outnumbered three to one, and something of his strength had +been spent in the earlier encounter. Defiantly he met the onslaught, +but he was overpowered by numbers. Eventually they laid him on his +back, and then his adversaries shackled his hands and feet with stout +cord. He thought they were handling him with strange gentleness, and he +wondered if they were saving him for another ordeal. He remembered, as +he was picked up and carried, that Miss Brown had said something about +a fate worse than a hundred deaths.</p> + +<p>In silence the little procession passed through a door, and presently +Cole was placed on a cot. In a few moments the men walked out, and once +more he was left alone in impenetrable darkness. Not a word had been +spoken by his captors, and he had not obtained a single glimpse of +their faces. The whole episode had been enacted in silence and under +cover of darkness.</p> + +<p>The door opened just as his mind was shaking off the numbness that had +seized it when he fell. Some one walked up to the cot where he lay. For +a few moments no sound was heard save the slow breathing of the two +men. Finally the other spoke, and Cole recognized the voice of the one +who had acted as spokesman for the group around the circular table.</p> + +<p>“You’re an obstinate man, Mr. Cole. We have <span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">43</span>made you a very flattering +proposition, and you have seen fit to reject it. I have come to offer +you one more chance to comply with our wishes.”</p> + +<p>“And if I refuse,” said Cole evenly, “you will kill me, I suppose. I am +beginning to think you are quite capable of it.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no!” The other man laughed softly. “We know you are not the kind +of man that’s afraid of death. Something stronger than fear for your +life is needed to bend you to our will. But we will bend you sooner or +later. Make no mistake about that.”</p> + +<p>The words were spoken in a tone of calm assurance that impressed Cole +against his will.</p> + +<p>“How, if I may ask?”</p> + +<p>“By a form of persuasion that is far more powerful than the fear of +death. After all, death is nothing. Only a dip into a void. A little +suffering, perhaps, and then nothingness. There are things that are far +worse. Mr. Cole, did you ever stop to consider what your life would +amount to if you should suddenly lose your mind?”</p> + +<p>“What?” Cole gave an involuntary shudder.</p> + +<p>“Suppose that keen mind of yours should become a blank. Suppose that +your wonderful mental faculties were to desert you, that you were to +become a leering, tottering wretch, inspiring loathing and horror in +your fellow men. Can you picture such a fate, Mr. Cole? Death would be +a thousand times more merciful, yet you would lack the incentive to +kill yourself. What could be worse?”</p> + +<p>Cole was silent. The darkness gave free rein to <span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">44</span>his imagination, and +the picture he saw sent a cold shiver down his spine.</p> + +<p>“All that life means to you would be blotted out,” the other went on +with remorseless eloquence. “Instead of matching your wits against a +man’s problems, as at present, you would probably be devoting your +time to childish amusements. Imagine yourself placing buttons in a row +and building houses out of blocks. You would be dragging a useless and +broken body through life until——”</p> + +<p>“Stop it!” said Cole. “You’re in more danger of losing your mind than I +am. Yours is already a bit twisted, unless I’m mistaken.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t fool yourself. Unless you give us a reasonable guarantee that +you will comply with our wishes, you will be a grimacing lunatic by +morning. A very simple operation on the brain will do it. Among those +seven men whom you saw around the circular table is a noted surgeon. +Everything, including the ether and the instruments, will be ready in a +few minutes. There is still time for you to come to your senses.”</p> + +<p>In the back of Cole’s mind was a hazy suspicion that he was dreaming, +but the other’s calm and softly penetrating tones gave him a feeling of +reality.</p> + +<p>“You wouldn’t——” he began.</p> + +<p>“Ah, wouldn’t we? Just wait and see. Perhaps I can convince you.”</p> + +<p>Cole heard his footfalls cross the floor, and then a door opened and +closed. For a few minutes he was alone, trying to arrange in an orderly +process the odds and ends of the night’s amazing happenings. <span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">45</span>His +mind staggered before the task, and suddenly the door opened again. +He had a vague impression that two men were entering, and that they +were carrying a burden between them. They moved about quickly in the +darkness, and now and then they whispered in tones so low that Cole +could not hear them.</p> + +<p>A light flashed on, and in the same instant the door closed. After the +long period of utter darkness, the sudden glare had a blinding effect. +Cole blinked his eyes, but after a little he opened them wide in +astonishment, and the sight that met them drew a long, trembling gasp +from his lips.</p> + +<p>There was only one other man in the room, a shivering, gibbering wreck +of a man whose grimacing features and hollow cackle sent a series of +chill shivers through Cole’s body. For a long time he stared into the +leering, slowly twitching face before he was able to realize that the +wretch, seated a few feet from his cot, was Malcolm Reeves.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">46</span> +<h2 id="chap_IV">CHAPTER IV</h2> +<div class="subheadc">“YELLOW”</div> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">WHEN he first went to work on the case of Reeves’ mysterious +disappearance, Cole had been shown several photographs of the missing +man. Along the numerous twistings of the trail, he had carried with him +a mental picture of a fine intellectual face, deep and rather somber +eyes, a long nose, whose slenderness hinted at aristocratic breeding, +a clean-cut jaw that denoted a great deal of aggressiveness, and lips +that were a trifle too full and might have suggested sensuality, if the +broad slope of the forehead had not conveyed a dominant impression of +the student and the thinker. The picture in Cole’s mind had represented +a man about fifty years old, with a virile personality and quiet tastes.</p> + +<p>The contrast between his mental image of Malcolm Reeves and the +miserable creature, now sitting a few feet away, was so sharp that the +comparison gave Cole a profound shock. His clothing hung loosely over +his bony frame, and he seemed to have aged decades in the three weeks +that had elapsed since his disappearance. His shoulders were hunched +down a little, his head was bent forward, and the eyes stared rigidly +into space, as if he were seeing something in the distance. His lips +were twisted into a fixed, vacant smile that impressed Cole as the most +hideous thing he had ever seen.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">47</span></p> + +<p>He tried to spring from the cot, momentarily forgetting that his arms +and legs were bound. He sank back with a mutter of exasperation. Not +much imagination was required to guess that the men who had brought +about his own plight were also responsible for the condition of Malcolm +Reeves.</p> + +<p>Again something drew his glance to the insane man. The revolting +picture seemed to hold Cole with an uncanny fascination. “What’s +happened?” he inquired, realizing a moment later that he might as well +have addressed a wooden image.</p> + +<p>Reeves was still gazing fixedly at the opposite wall. There was a look +of insane glee in his shrunken eyes. He bent forward a little more, and +then his lips began to move. “Yellow,” he said. “Pretty yellow!”</p> + +<p>The soft-spoken words and the giggle that followed caused Cole to +shudder. He could see that Reeves’ mind, or the pitiful remnant of it, +was reveling in some childish fancy. The wreckage of a once splendid +intellect was horrible to behold.</p> + +<p>“What do you see?” he asked, wondering whether the man was capable of +any form of response.</p> + +<p>The other’s face brightened, but Cole thought it was only an external +glow, a reflected light rather than one kindled from within. He +recoiled inwardly as another stream of giggling mirth flowed from the +insane man’s lips.</p> + +<p>“Yellow,” said Reeves again. “Pretty yellow!”</p> + +<p>His expression became more rapt. His smile grew broader and deeper, but +to Cole it seemed nothing more than a contortion of facial muscles. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">48</span>He wondered whether the two words were all that was left of the man’s +vocabulary. He felt a desire to test him and see if there was not a +remaining scrap of intellect that could be aroused.</p> + +<p>“Listen, Mr. Reeves,” he said sharply. “When did you last see Professor +Carmody?”</p> + +<p>The giggling ended in a quick intake of breath. Reeves’ smile faded +as abruptly as if an invisible hand had blotted it out. Watching him +intently, Cole could see that his question had touched a slumbering +chord in the man’s mind. Fear and something akin to hate blazed in the +shrunken eyes. It was a startling transformation, and Cole observed it +in wonder. He had mentioned Carmody’s name on the spur of a vagrant +impulse, wondering whether it would awaken a recollection in the débris +of Reeves’ intellect. The effect was far beyond his expectations.</p> + +<p>“Carmody!” said the insane man, and each syllable cut like a knife +through the silence. “Carmody!”</p> + +<p>He drew a shaking hand across his brow, and Cole fancied something was +stirring in the dark corners of his mind. His face took on a strained +look, as if he was trying to exercise the shattered remnants of his +intellect. There was a flicker of returning sanity, a feeble ray of +awakening reason.</p> + +<p>It did not last long. Reeves gave a little shudder, there was a +trembling gleam in his eye, then the fatuous grin came back to his +lips, and once more he mumbled in rapt tones: “Yellow. Pretty yellow!”</p> + +<p>Cole turned his head away with a shiver. His experiment had shown the +hopelessness of the insane man’s condition, but it had also suggested +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">49</span>several things to Cole. A recollection of a terrifying nature +seemed to be buried in the wreckage of Reeves’ mind, and evidently +it had something to do with Professor Carmody. Cole had felt certain +for a long time that the professor was responsible for the man’s +disappearance, but he had not cared to jeopardize his case by taking +action before he had sufficient evidence in his possession, as a +premature move on his part might have brought disastrous results. At +that time he had not been sure whether the missing man was dead or +alive. If still living, his safety might be endangered by hasty action, +for Carmody would not hesitate to kill him if he thought it advisable. +So Cole had waited, patiently biding his time and slowly, but surely, +strengthening the meshes in which he hoped to entangle the professor.</p> + +<p>Now he wondered to what extent his course had been correct. The +maniac’s startling reaction to the mention of Carmody’s name seemed to +confirm at least a part of his theory. What he could not understand +was how Reeves, granting that the professor was responsible for his +abduction, happened to be in this place of dark intrigue and baffling +mystery. Evidently there must be a connecting link between Professor +Carmody and the seven masked men who had sat around the circular table. +Likely as not they were accomplices, banded together for the attainment +of some secret object. That would at least explain why the seven men +were so determined that Cole should drop the Carmody case, though it +explained nothing else.</p> + +<p>A slight sound interrupted the speculations with <span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">50</span>which he had tried +to relieve the tension he felt. He turned his head a little and saw +that the door had opened a crack. A hand was inserted through the +narrow opening. For a moment it fumbled over the wall, then came a +faint click, and once more the room was dark. Men were moving about in +the black for a time, and then all was quiet. The silence seemed to +indicate that Cole was alone in the room, but he had an indefinable +feeling that some one was standing beside his cot. In a moment his +impression was confirmed.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Cole,” said a voice, and he recognized it at once, “I trust that +what you have just seen has put you in a more reasonable frame of mind. +Unless you comply with our wishes we shall do to you what we did to +Malcolm Reeves.”</p> + +<p>Cole strained spasmodically against the cords that fettered his hands +and feet. In the darkness his imagination sketched a picture of Reeves’ +hideously grinning face. For a moment he could almost hear the maniac’s +insane cackle. He banished the vision by sheer force of will.</p> + +<p>“There’s a great deal of finesse about your methods,” he ironically +observed. “I guessed, of course, that Reeves was brought in here to +serve as an object lesson to me. It was quite impressive.”</p> + +<p>“And you have reconsidered?” asked the other hopefully.</p> + +<p>Cole lay absolutely still on his back. It was all he could do to +exclude the disturbing pictures of Reeves from his mind. Whenever a +glimpse of it came back to him he felt a weakness that put him in fear +of himself. “Not exactly,” he managed to <span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">51</span>say in steady tones. “I have +merely been taking my own measure, as it were, trying to determine +whether the loss of pride and self-respect is worse than the loss of +one’s sanity.”</p> + +<p>“And what is your conclusion?”</p> + +<p>“I am still in doubt. There are so many ways of looking at the +situation. For instance, one thing to be considered is that lost +self-respect may be regained, while insanity is in most instances +incurable.”</p> + +<p>“Excellent,” murmured the other. “That’s a very rational way of looking +at the proposition. Such being the case it should not be difficult for +you to choose between the two alternatives.”</p> + +<p>“But it is,” protested Cole. “There is still another thing to be +considered. Suppose I were to accept your terms. All I could give you +would be my word of honor that I would live up to them.”</p> + +<p>“Quite sufficient,” the other put in. “We know you are not the kind of +man who goes back on his word.”</p> + +<p>“Thanks,” said Cole sarcastically. “Just the same one’s word of honor +is a rather intangible thing. You can’t bind me with a contract. It +would not be legal, no matter how ingeniously worded, and it might +incriminate yourselves. I am not in position to give you any pledges. +You would have to be content with my bare promise. It would be +sufficient in any ordinary case, but circumstances alter everything. I +realize I am at the mercy of a gang of unprincipled scoundrels.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">52</span></p> + +<p>“Your epithets don’t hurt us in the least,” remarked the other man +icily.</p> + +<p>“Didn’t expect they would. But don’t you see that, under the +circumstances, I would have no hesitancy at all about giving you a +promise that I didn’t intend to keep? I am not a bit quixotic, and I am +too practical to indulge in cheap heroics. I have no ambition to become +the hero of a tawdry melodrama. In order to escape a fate like the one +you inflicted on Reeves, I would promise anything, and so would every +other man whose head isn’t full of moonshine. You follow me?”</p> + +<p>“Perfectly. You are trying to make out that we have no hold over you. +Your reasoning isn’t bad, but you forget one thing. As it happens, we +are in a position to exact a pledge from you, one that will hold you to +us for life.”</p> + +<p>“What is it?”</p> + +<p>The other gave a soft laugh. “You saw what a hopeless case Reeves is. +There’s no reason why he should go on living any longer. The merciful +thing to do is to put him out of his misery.”</p> + +<p>“You mean——”</p> + +<p>“Exactly, Mr. Cole. You are to seal the promise you give us by hustling +Reeves off to a better world. We have planned it so that we will be +able to prove that you killed him. Having incriminated yourself to that +extent, and with the evidence in our possession, we need have no fear +that you will go back on your word of honor. And now that we thoroughly +understand each other, I must ask you to decide promptly. Our time is +valuable.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">53</span></p> + +<p>A few moments passed in silence, but to Cole they were like weeks. +Never before in all his life had so many thoughts and emotions been +crowded into such a narrow space of time. He felt weak and shaken when +it was over, but his voice was clear. “My answer is no,” he declared. +“If I were able I would give it to you in a more emphatic manner.”</p> + +<p>“Sorry, Mr. Cole,” replied the other. “I won’t accept your decision +as final, however. I trust you will reconsider before you become +unconscious under the ether.”</p> + +<p>With that he went out, leaving an ominous silence behind him. Cole +tore frantically at the cords around his wrists, but they only cut the +deeper into his flesh. He could see no escape from the awful fate that +awaited him. Time and again the picture of Reeves’ fatuously grinning +face came back to him, causing him to writhe in mental torment. A +tempting voice seemed to whisper in his ear, turning his thoughts into +strange channels. To end a life that was worse than a living death +appeared not such a dreadful thing to do. Cole himself would have +preferred to die rather than suffer a fate like Reeves’. If he should +ever fall into such a condition he would consider the man a benefactor +who ended his misery.</p> + +<p>He shook himself violently. A clammy perspiration was bathing his +forehead. With a mental and physical paroxysm he brushed away the +temptation to which he had nearly yielded a moment ago. Footsteps +were approaching the door, and he knew a critical moment was at hand. +Something within <span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">54</span>him that was stronger than reason and logic shrank +from the mere thought of taking Reeves’ life. He wondered if there was +no other alternative.</p> + +<p>He tried to take a calm view of the situation. Though his hands and +feet were tightly bound his persecutors evidently had not thought it +necessary to strap him to the cot, since he would soon be under the +influence of the ether. By experimenting he found that he could turn +over on his sides and, thanks to the fact that his hands had been tied +in front instead of behind, he was able to move his arms up and down +and in a horizontal direction. Since he could not use his hands he did +not see how he could turn this circumstance to his advantage, yet it +continued to tantalize his imagination.</p> + +<p>The door opened, and his ears told him that several men were entering +the room. For a time they moved about in the darkness, as if making +preparations of some sort. After a little the footsteps receded, and +then the door opened and closed once more. Cole guessed that all but +one or two of the men had withdrawn. After another brief delay, the +lights flashed on once more, this time illuminating a different scene.</p> + +<p>Reeves was back in the room, occupying the same chair in which he had +sat the other time, but now his limbs were as tightly manacled as +Cole’s own. He moved his head slowly from side to side, as if sensing +something unusual in the air, but his vacant stare showed that he had +not the faintest inkling of what was going on.</p> + +<p>After a glance at him, Cole looked away. Not far from the cot stood a +tall man with a black <span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">55</span>beard that covered nearly his entire face. He +was holding a number of surgical implements to the light, giving each +one a critical inspection before he placed it on a small table with a +glass top that stood beside the cot. Cole could not restrain a shudder +as he saw how calmly the man examined the sinister-looking little +tools. There was a professional air about him that in Cole’s mind +stamped him as a surgeon.</p> + +<p>Again his glance moved to the insane man, whose dull gaze seemed to be +taking in each detail of the scene. The meaning of the little knives +and the presence of the black-bearded man was terrifyingly clear.</p> + +<p>The surgeon placed the last of the knives on the table beside the +cot. They lay there in plain view, so close to Cole that if his hands +had been free he could have reached out and touched them. The long, +slender metal blades gleamed diabolically in the electric lights, and +he wondered if they had been placed like that for the sole purpose of +impressing their hideous significance upon him.</p> + +<p>The black-bearded man came closer to the cot, and Cole caught a full +view of his face. He had seen it once before, though only dimly, +for the surgeon was one of the seven who had sat in the dusk at the +circular table. He had worn a mask then, but the black beard, the high +forehead and the bald spot on top of his head were unmistakable. Now +his features were unveiled, and in this circumstance Cole saw a grim +significance. The surgeon no longer had any reason to fear that Cole +might recognize him if they should meet again.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">56</span></p> + +<p>He stopped beside the glass-topped table and, with hands clasped at his +back, fixed a tranquil gaze on the reclining man. “You have one more +chance, Mr. Cole,” he remarked in a casual tone. “Hadn’t you better +reconsider your refusal?”</p> + +<p>Cole looked up into the bearded face with a feeling that there was +something peculiar about it, but his mind was too agitated to analyze +the impression. In a playful manner the surgeon picked up one of the +knives, holding it so that the light flashed against the keen blade.</p> + +<p>Cole was trying to frame an answer, but just then something drew his +gaze to the insane man. Reeves was straining forward in his chair, +bending his weight against the fettering cords. From where he sat he +had a clear view of both Cole and the surgeon, and his eyes were fixed +with wild intensity on the knife in the latter’s hand. Time and again +he opened his lips, but the only sound that came was a hoarse rattle in +his throat.</p> + +<p>“Well, Mr. Cole?”</p> + +<p>The surgeon, paying no attention to the lunatic, looked impatiently +at Cole. Reeves, with mouth gaping and features horribly distorted, +continued to stare at the knife.</p> + +<p>“You refuse?” The surgeon waited a moment longer for an answer; then, +with a shrug, he replaced the knife and stepped aside. Cole felt a +sudden rush of blood to his head. If he was to escape a fate worse than +death he must act at once. He spurred his wits to think of something +to do. A tinkling, like that of a jar or a bottle being moved, sounded +in the room. Again he bent his mind to <span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">57</span>the seemingly hopeless task +of finding a way out, but, even in this moment of desperate peril, he +could not take his gaze from the insane man’s face.</p> + +<p>Reeves sat with shoulders hunched up and head turned a little to one +side. Now and then his mouth twisted at the corners; from time to time +a shudder broke the tension of his figure. A series of slight gurgling +sounds fell on the stillness at intervals. All the while his eyes, with +a smoldering something in their depths, were fixed on the knives spread +out on the glass-topped table.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Cole’s body executed a little writhing motion. His nostrils +sucked in a strong, sickening odor. With a sponge in his hand, the +surgeon was coming toward the cot.</p> + +<p>Once more, in a delirium of suspense, Cole glanced at the insane man. +The quick dilation of Reeves’ nostrils told he also had noticed the +ether. The chair creaked as he put his weight against the cords. There +was a look on his face that Cole felt would follow him through the +night of madness that threatened to engulf him. Reeves’ chest heaved +violently, his whole body seemed to be rocked by a tumultuous emotion, +and finally a long and oddly vibrant cry broke from his lips.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">58</span> +<h2 id="chap_V">CHAPTER V</h2> +<div class="subheadc">DISGUISED</div> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">TO Cole’s rapt gaze the insane man presented a picture at once fearful +and fascinating. Reeves was no longer looking at the keen-bladed +knives, but now he was staring at the black-bearded surgeon with an +intensity that seemed to strain every nerve and muscle in his body. The +knotted cords at his temple swelled and took on a livid hue. Slowly and +shakily he drew himself erect in the chair, and then his whole body was +rocked by a paroxysm so violent that, for an instant, Cole thought the +cords were about to snap.</p> + +<p>The surgeon, with the reeking sponge in his hand, turned and watched +the maniac. A smile twisted the bearded lips, and he stepped to the +chair and spoke a few words in Reeves’ ears. The insane man’s chest +heaved out, but the cry and the paroxysm seemed to have exhausted his +energies, and only a feeble, fluttering moan came.</p> + +<p>The spectacle had held Cole spellbound. Now, while the surgeon was +leaning over the insane man and whispering in his ear, a sudden +realization of his peril caused him to throw off the weird fascination +which the scene had cast on him. He had only a few moments in which to +act. Soon the reeking sponge would be at his nostrils, deadening his +mental faculties.</p> + +<p>His darting glance fell on the knives lying on the <span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">59</span>glass-topped table +beside the cot. They were so close to him that they seemed to mock and +taunt him. Again it occurred to him that they had been placed like that +for the sole purpose of impressing their infernal purpose upon him and +battering down his fortitude. It had been a touch of refined cruelty +on the black-bearded man’s part, but it only strengthened Cole’s +determination not to yield.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, as he kept looking at the knives, the gleam of an inspiration +crept into his narrowing eyes. He cast a swift glance about the room. +The black-bearded man was still occupied with Reeves and stood with his +back turned to the cot. Cole, trembling with excitement, turned over on +his side and wriggled as close to the edge of the cot as he could. He +reached out his manacled hands over the glass-topped table. The cords +around the wrists gave the fingers considerable leeway. In an instant +they had closed around the handle of the nearest knife.</p> + +<p>Cole tingled from head to foot. The subtle bit of strategy by which the +black-bearded man had hoped to shatter his victim’s nerve had now been +turned to Cole’s advantage. It gave him a fighting chance, though the +odds were still overwhelmingly against him. His lips curled a little, +and there was a belligerent sparkle in his eyes. Turning over on his +back he dropped the knife beside him on the pillow, so that his head +would temporarily screen it from the surgeon’s sight. Then, letting his +arms fall limply back against his abdomen, he waited for the surgeon to +act.</p> + +<p>Presently the black-bearded man turned away <span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">60</span>from Reeves and stepped up +to the cot. Cole lay motionless, with eyes half closed, as if partly +dazed by contemplation of the terrible fate that awaited him. Inwardly +he was straining and quivering with suspense. As yet the surgeon did +not seem to have noticed that one of the knives was missing from the +table, but he might do so any moment, and then Cole’s only hope would +be gone.</p> + +<p>“Well, Mr. Cole?” he asked lightly. “For the last time I ask you to +reconsider your refusal.”</p> + +<p>Cole lay very still. The last few minutes of suspense seemed to have +wrought a great change in him. His lips moved as if he were trying to +speak, but was too weak to use his voice.</p> + +<p>The surgeon grinned into his beard. Evidently he thought the knives +placed so close to his victim’s side had exerted the intended +psychological effect.</p> + +<p>“Have you anything to say?” he asked, bending over the cot in an effort +to catch Cole’s faintly mumbled words.</p> + +<p>Cole flexed his muscles for action. The moment for which he had waited +was at hand. His chance had come; everything depended upon how he used +it. He mumbled again, and the surgeon’s head came a little closer to +his chest.</p> + +<p>“A little louder, please,” said the black-bearded man.</p> + +<p>Slowly, by imperceptible degrees, Cole drew up his manacled hands +toward his chin. Suddenly his arms shot upward, forming a circular loop +that instantly descended over the surgeon’s head. With a startled cry +the black-bearded man tried to draw back, but the arms that encircled +his shoulders <span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">61</span>were as strong and hard as springs of steel. He +struggled frantically, but the encircling grip pinned his arms tightly +to his sides, and his head was constantly being forced lower and lower +toward the reclining man’s chest. The sponge had dropped from his hand +the moment Cole’s arms were flung around his neck.</p> + +<p>An exultant thrill went through Cole as the other’s resistance grew +feebler. Now the surgeon’s head was almost level with his face. The +only sounds in the room were the hard panting of the adversaries and +an occasional giggle from the insane man. Fumes of ether were slowly +filling the air.</p> + +<p>Cole turned his head. In an instant the handle of the knife was firmly +gripped between his strong, even teeth. He thrust out his jaw, and the +point of the weapon grazed the black-bearded man’s throat. Cole saw +a look of fear creep into the man’s eyes. The surgeon made a final +attempt to wriggle free, but Cole’s arms held him as in a vise. Once +more the knife, tightly clasped between Cole’s jaws, scratched the +other’s flesh. He remarked again the look of terror that was stamped +on the surgeon’s face. In view of the diabolical fate which the man +had meant to inflict on him Cole was human enough to enjoy the other’s +agony.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he bent a sharper look on the man’s face. Once before he had +wondered why there seemed to be something peculiar about it, but this +was his first chance to examine the features at close quarters. Now he +noticed that the beard which covered most of the face had an unnatural +appearance. There were lines about the eyes that <span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">62</span>did not seem quite +genuine, and the exposed portions of the skin had an odd coloring. +Obviously the man was disguised, and Cole could see that it had been +rather cleverly done. He wondered why the disguise had been put on, +since the surgeon had had every reason to expect that Cole would +leave the room a raving lunatic and that there would be no danger of +recognition if they should meet again.</p> + +<p>He had not time to think further about it. The deadlock was only +temporary; any fortuitous incident might upset Cole’s advantage; +instantly the door might open and admit one or more of the other +members of the gang. Just now he had the surgeon at his mercy. Only a +little slash with the knife, clamped between his teeth was needed to +open an artery, but that would not release him from his predicament. +Though he might be able to sever the cords around his ankles he could +not move his hands with sufficient freedom to cut the strings around +his wrists. While he was casting about for a plan a muffled groan of +fright and pain broke from the surgeon’s lips. Unconsciously Cole had +once more scratched the man’s throat with the knife.</p> + +<p>“You’re killing me!” protested the other man in a feeble voice.</p> + +<p>“It would serve you right,” declared Cole unfeelingly. “I don’t know +why I should have any compunction about killing a rat of your kind. We +might come to some arrangement, however. What will you do if I spare +your life?”</p> + +<p>“Anything, anything you say.”</p> + +<p>Cole considered. The thing of first importance <span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">63</span>was to get his hands +free of the cords. In his present position, with his arms pinned +tightly in Cole’s embrace the surgeon could not untie them, and Cole +did not see how he could give the man any freedom of movement without +imperiling his own advantage.</p> + +<p>“I am going to give you a chance for your life,” he said, “but if you +make the slightest false move you die instantly. Understand that?”</p> + +<p>“I’ll do whatever you say.”</p> + +<p>“All right, then. Turn over.”</p> + +<p>Cole relaxed his hold a trifle, and the surgeon turned in his arms. The +point of the knife did not leave his flesh for an instant, and at any +moment Cole could have inflicted a mortal wound by merely thrusting his +head forward. Now, with the end of the blade in dangerous proximity to +the surgeon’s jugular vein, Cole gingerly released one of the man’s +arms, then commanded him to untie the cords around his wrists. The +black-bearded man obeyed, and Cole transferred the knife from his mouth +to his right hand. In a short time his feet had been released, and now +he flung the surgeon aside and slipped from the cot.</p> + +<p>Reeves had watched the proceeding with a dull stare. Now and then a +hoarse giggle of glee had escaped him.</p> + +<p>The surgeon got to his feet and drew a long breath of relief. His eyes, +with a glint of lingering fear in their depths, watched Cole admiringly.</p> + +<p>“You’re a great scrapper, Mr. Cole,” he admitted. “You turned the +tables with a truly artistic touch. For a time I was in fear for my +life. There was <span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">64</span>no time to explain, and you wouldn’t have believed me +anyway.”</p> + +<p>“Explain?” Cole asked contemptuously. The little knife was still +clutched tightly in his hand. “One doesn’t expect explanations from +curs of your type.”</p> + +<p>The surgeon laughed, and in the same instant his fingers touched a +button. Cole flexed his muscles for another supreme test. Out of the +corner of an eye he watched the surgeon; the other eye was fixed on +the door. In a moment or two it would probably open in response to +the surgeon’s ring, and men would come tumbling upon him from all +directions. Cole smiled grimly. He would die fighting rather than +expose himself to the other and more terrible fate from which he had +just escaped.</p> + +<p>The door opened, and he poised himself, ready to spring forward. +The nerve-racking suspense, which he had undergone on the cot, was +forgotten now. His eye was clear, and his brain was rapidly throwing +off the ether fumes that had escaped from the surgeon’s sponge. The +hand in which he held the knife came upward, prepared to strike down +the first man who should approach.</p> + +<p>Some one entered through the open door, and the arm fell limply to +Cole’s side. With gaping mouth he stared at the newcomer who executed a +profound bow, while he pointed to the outer room. “Will you kindly step +this way, Mr. Cole?” he asked in the courteous tones of a well-trained +servant.</p> + +<p>Cole laughed. The sudden reaction made him feel giddy. He had expected +at least half a dozen <span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">65</span>men to pounce on him when the door opened. By +contrast there was something ludicrous about the salaaming figure, now +confronting him.</p> + +<p>“If you please, Mr. Cole.” The man again waved his hand toward the +outer room, and Cole obligingly followed his direction. There seemed +to be nothing else to do than wait for the other side to make the next +move. If he was walking into a trap, as appeared not at all unlikely, +he still had the knife to defend himself with. And that was not all, +he suddenly remembered; his pistol was still in his hip pocket. It was +rather odd, he reflected, as he walked behind the servant, that no +attempt had been made to take it from him.</p> + +<p>In a few moments he was back in the long room with the circular table. +The seven masked men were again grouped around it, and the light was as +dim as before. The servant ushered him up to the chair occupied by the +spokesman, then silently glided away. Once more Cole felt seven pairs +of eyes searching his face, but this time he was aware of a new quality +in the air.</p> + +<p>“You may feel quite at ease, Mr. Cole,” the spokesman began. “I can +promise that no harm will come to you.”</p> + +<p>The calm, matter-of-fact tones incensed Cole when he recalled by what +a narrow margin he had escaped the fate which these men had tried to +inflict upon him.</p> + +<p>“How magnanimous!” he gibingly exclaimed.</p> + +<p>The other chuckled. “Oh, we can understand that you don’t feel +particularly friendly toward us. Incidentally we know all that happened +in the <span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">66</span>other room. You acquitted yourself nobly, Mr. Cole.”</p> + +<p>“Save your compliments. They are on a par with your promises.”</p> + +<p>“You would naturally feel that way after what has happened. Mr. Cole, I +am going to ask you to forget what occurred in the other room.”</p> + +<p>“Forget?” asked Cole incredulously, feeling as though the episode he +had just passed through would live in his memory till his dying day.</p> + +<p>“Well, perhaps that is asking too much,” the other admitted. “By the +way, your bitterness toward us is natural enough, but don’t you find +some compensation in the knowledge that you have passed through fire +unscathed? You remained true to yourself in one of the severest tests a +man can be subjected to. Isn’t there some satisfaction for you in that?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, a lot,” said Cole ironically. “It’s worth something to a man +to know that nothing can bend him. If you expect me, however, to get +down on my knees and thank you for giving me a chance to prove myself +you are mistaken.”</p> + +<p>“We don’t expect anything of the kind. I am merely trying to point out +that you have cause for self-congratulation as well as bitterness. You +probably won’t be able to forget what has happened, but I am going to +ask you to dismiss it from your mind temporarily, while I make a new +proposition to you.”</p> + +<p>Cole felt a trifle dazed. The effrontery of the man was unbelievable. +For a moment he suspected it was all a weird jest. “Go on,” he said +dryly. <span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">67</span>“Your superb insolence interests me. I am curious to see how +far it will carry you.”</p> + +<p>“You shall see in a few minutes. I will begin by stating certain facts. +Perhaps later on I shall be able to prove them to their satisfaction, +but just now I must ask you to accept them as an hypothesis.”</p> + +<p>“Proceed,” said Cole. “I’ll try to believe that black is white.”</p> + +<p>“That’s practically what it amounts to. The first fact I am asking you +to accept on faith, for the present, is that we are not responsible for +Malcolm Reeves’ deplorable condition. An operation was performed on his +brain, but we had nothing to do with it.”</p> + +<p>He paused as if expecting an objection.</p> + +<p>“The second fact I am asking you to accept provisionally,” he went +on when Cole showed no inclination to speak, “is that we are just as +anxious to solve the Carmody case as you can possibly be. We are more +anxious, in fact, for we know more about its vast scope and enormous +complexities than you do. Are you with me so far, Mr. Cole?”</p> + +<p>Cole’s shoulder made a seesawing motion. The whole thing was +preposterous, but there was a quality in the man’s tone that impressed +him against his will. “You are asking me to believe that you are sheep +in wolves’ clothing,” he remarked.</p> + +<p>“That’s undoubtedly how it looks to you. Won’t you try to brush +your doubts aside, Mr. Cole? Remember that in due time I will prove +everything I say.”</p> + +<p>Cole’s indignation was cooling. There was something <span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">68</span>about the +spokesman that seemed to exert a subtle magnetism on him. Already his +dreadful experience in the other room seemed dim and remote, though a +few minutes ago he had thought it was indelibly etched on the scroll of +his memory. “If what you say is true, then why——”</p> + +<p>“No questions, please. You would not believe me if I were to answer +them. All I can say now is that we have excellent reasons for what we +have done. Some time before long I think you yourself will approve +them. Just now you must accept my statements on faith. Will you try to +believe that we had nothing to do with Reeves’ condition and that we +are on your side in the Carmody matter?”</p> + +<p>“You can’t deny that you tried to put me in the same condition Reeves +is in?”</p> + +<p>“We can, but we won’t just at present. What happened in the other room +I am asking you to dismiss from your mind in order that you may view +the facts I have placed before you in an unbiased frame of mind. With +that episode eliminated can’t you place a little temporary credence in +what I say?”</p> + +<p>Cole tried to clarify his thoughts, but without much success. He +realized with satisfaction that his hand was still clutching the +knife. He wondered whether, but for his quickness of mind and his deft +handling of the little weapon, he would not now be a raving madman. +It seemed strange that he was able to think coolly about the matter, +and stranger still that he found himself listening to the spokesman’s +arguments with any degree of seriousness.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">69</span></p> + +<p>Finally he shook his head. “It won’t quite go down,” he declared. “You +are asking me to take too much for granted. One’s brain was made to +think with, and your statements won’t bear too close reasoning. You +will have to give me your proofs before I can believe you.”</p> + +<p>A pause followed his words; then a chorus of whispers went around the +table. The spokesman leaned over and consulted the man seated beside +him.</p> + +<p>“I don’t blame you,” he declared, again turning to Cole. “After +all, your skepticism is quite natural. It is even a tribute to your +intellectual powers, for only children and feeble-minded persons accept +unsupported statements. Now, as for proofs, let me see. Would you be +convinced if you should find the man who is responsible for Reeves’ +condition?”</p> + +<p>“You know who he is?”</p> + +<p>“We have had our suspicions for some time, but we were not certain +until a short while ago. A delicate operation, by which certain brain +cells were deadened, was performed on Reeves. We knew Professor Carmody +could not have performed it, for he is not a surgeon. We began to look +for an accomplice, and finally we found a man who seemed to fit into +our theory of the case. Mr. Cole, did you ever hear of Doctor Dickson +Latham?”</p> + +<p>“Never,” said Cole.</p> + +<p>“Well, certain circumstances, which needn’t be mentioned just now, made +us believe that Doctor Latham was the man whom we were looking for. The +matter was really of no great importance, only one of the minor angles +of the case, but any <span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">70</span>little light, shed on the corners of the mystery, +might help toward solving the whole. We felt fairly certain Doctor +Latham was our man; in the last hour we have become positive of it.”</p> + +<p>“In the last hour!” exclaimed Cole. “How?”</p> + +<p>“Malcolm Reeves told us.”</p> + +<p>“Reeves told you?”</p> + +<p>“By his actions, while you were lying on the cot. We had two reasons +for staging that little scene in the other room. The primary one we +won’t go into at present. The other was to jog the dead part of Reeves’ +brain back to life, by having him witness the preparations for an +operation that, in its essential aspects, must have resembled the one +performed on himself. We hoped that the smell of the ether, the sight +of the knives and the preparations in general would awaken a slumbering +memory in his mind. The experiment was only partly successful, but +Reeves’ actions proved beyond doubt that he recognized the officiating +surgeon.”</p> + +<p>Through the dusk Cole stared into the speaker’s calm face. “Then the +surgeon——”</p> + +<p>“You probably didn’t notice it,” the other interrupted, “but the man +who officiated as the surgeon was disguised. The disguise was put on by +one of our men, an expert in that line.”</p> + +<p>“I noticed it, and it was a good job,” Cole remarked. “I couldn’t see +why it was necessary, though.”</p> + +<p>“The disguise was put on, not to hoodwink you, but for its effect on +Reeves.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t understand.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">71</span></p> + +<p>“But you will when I tell you that the disguise gave the officiating +surgeon a superficial, but fairly convincing, resemblance to Doctor +Dickson Latham.”</p> + +<p>“Clever, I’ll say!” exclaimed Cole who could appreciate ingenuity even +in men who had caused him the most agonizing moments in his life. He +recalled Reeves’ intense agitation while the preparations were in +progress. At the time he had not known what it meant, but he remembered +that the surgeon had watched Reeves very closely, and this had given +Cole his chance to snatch up the knife from the table.</p> + +<p>“There is no doubt that Reeves thought he was seeing the man who had +performed the operation upon him,” the spokesman went on. “One of us +was watching the scene through a small opening in the wall, and it was +quite evident that the surgeon’s resemblance to Doctor Latham gave +Reeves a profound shock. Our suspicions have been confirmed, but as yet +we have no legal proof. We want you, Mr. Cole, to go out and get the +evidence against Doctor Latham.”</p> + +<p>“Me?”</p> + +<p>“Why not? You are a detective, a very good one, though the fact +isn’t generally known. If you find that Latham is guilty you will +be more inclined to credit our statements and think favorably of +the proposition we shall make you. You will leave here as you came, +blindfolded and under guard. Until we understand each other better we +don’t want you to learn too much about us. You will wish to sleep late +in the morning, but to-morrow afternoon you can attack the Carmody case +from a new angle.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">72</span></p> + +<p>“And my clients?” asked Cole.</p> + +<p>“You will be all the better able to serve them because of your +connection with us. As soon as you have found your evidence against +Latham, or learned enough to convince you that we are trustworthy, you +will come here again and report. We shall find a way of communicating +with you in due time. What do you say to the idea?”</p> + +<p>Cole pondered. He tried to analyze the situation, but all he could +see were contradictions and perplexities. His only clear thought was +that he had nothing to lose and perhaps much to gain by adopting the +suggestion. His glance swept the circle of masked faces, all of them +turned expectantly in his direction.</p> + +<p>“The idea is good,” he finally declared. “I shall pay my respects to +Doctor Latham to-morrow afternoon.”</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">73</span> +<h2 id="chap_VI">CHAPTER VI</h2> +<div class="subheadc">DOCTOR LATHAM</div> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">THE sun was several hours high the following morning when Kingdon Cole +jumped out of bed and, from force of habit, turned toward his bathroom. +A glance into the mirror on the white-tiled wall made him start.</p> + +<p>A man, even though he have nerves of steel and a constitution hard as +armor, can’t pass through a siege of intense mental torture without +showing traces of it. The nerve-racking agony, which Cole had undergone +while lying on the cot, had left marks which seven hours of sound +sleep had not removed. There was a suspicion of pallor beneath the +bronze of his face. The usual brightness of his eyes was dimmed by +a smoldering flicker which hinted at a long glimpse into infernal +horrors. His face was drawn, and there were telltale lines and furrows. +A twenty-four-hour growth of beard did not improve his appearance.</p> + +<p>“Nerves a bit on edge,” he told himself, turning away from the mirror. +“Look as if I hadn’t slept a wink in a week. My landlady would tell me +I need a doctor, but a shower and a shave will make me as chipper as a +colt.”</p> + +<p>Whistling, he stepped into the tub and turned on the water. A few +minutes of wriggling and writhing under the icy shower would remove all +signs of his adventure. He thrilled to the first cold <span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">74</span>splash, and then +Cole drew back from beneath the shower. His lips twisted slowly.</p> + +<p>“Guess I’ll try a doctor instead,” he decided. “I’m really in pretty +bad shape. Nervous symptoms are not to be trifled with. I’ll see what +Doctor Dickson Latham has to say about my condition.”</p> + +<p>Reluctantly he turned off the cold current and resigned himself +to a lukewarm bath that did not refresh him in the least. Not too +graciously, for habit becomes an exalted thing with men who live alone, +he also decided to forgo his regular morning shave. It was best, he +whimsically reflected, that Doctor Latham should see him at his worst. +He dressed with less than his usual care, took in the bottle of milk +and the newspaper that were always left at his door, and, before +starting to prepare his own simple breakfast, poured out a saucerful of +milk for “Toots.”</p> + +<p>Toots was a white-and-yellow cat who had slipped into his rooms one +morning and made herself at home. Cole hadn’t had a word to say about +the arrangement. He had been helpless before Toots’ firmness, and the +cat had made herself a fixture in his establishment. With a languid +indifference and an occasional feline shrug she permitted herself +to be waited on by Cole, who at times wondered whether the cat was +patronizing him. When Toots selected his softest pillow to sleep on and +sunned herself on his writing desk beside the window Cole felt that the +sanctity of his bachelor existence was being violated, but the cat’s +blandly tyrannizing ways left him without a word of protest.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">75</span></p> + +<p>After breakfast he called up Doctor Latham’s office and made an +appointment for half past two. Then he sat down with his newspaper +and pipe, the latter a smelly affair with a bowl shaped into the +resemblance of a monkey’s face. It was an odd conceit, and it had +been given him in lieu of his fee by an impecunious client. Only +once had Cole had words with his landlady, and that was when the +well-intentioned woman had undertaken to scrape out the bowl of his +favorite pipe with a potato peeler. Cole smoked a weird mixture, +compounded by himself of several domestic brands and spiced with a dash +of perique. The strong concoction was a stimulant to mental effort, but +at first he had hesitated to smoke such pungent stuff in the presence +of the dainty Toots. The cat had not seemed to mind, however.</p> + +<p>He turned the pages of his newspaper, but found nothing that interested +him. At length he threw the paper aside and refilled his pipe. Toots +was sprawled out on the unfinished manuscript of an article on criminal +tendencies which he was preparing for a psychological review. He gave +the cat a reproachful glance, but said nothing. There were times when +Toots seemed to go too far.</p> + +<p>He looked out into the warm sunlight that bathed Gramercy Park, but +his thoughts were flitting in and out of a maze of rooms on the top +floor of a skyscraper, located somewhere in the financial center. His +recollections of the previous night were a queer medley of horror +and mystery, of things that were terribly vivid and others that were +dim and disconnected like a dream. Now, as he sat in the sunlight, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">76</span>leisurely smoking his pipe, he tried to picture the mystic circle in +the dimly lighted room. He could not quite focus his mental vision on +the scene; it was too shadowy and unreal. The seven masked faces melted +into a blur, then faded away completely. It was no use trying to guess +who those seven men were, or what their amazing conduct might mean. +Perhaps his interview with Doctor Latham would suggest a solution to +the mystery.</p> + +<p>The idea of approaching the doctor in the rôle of a patient had been +something of an inspiration, but he had made no plans beyond that. +The mock consultation would give him a chance to take the physician’s +mental and physical measure and see what manner of man he was. Cole +was a good judge of faces and a keen observer of human nature. To him +the slightest gesture and the most casually spoken word had a meaning +all their own. His first aim was to find out whether Latham was the +kind of man who might commit such an atrocious crime as the operation +on Malcolm Reeves; after that he would let his actions be guided by +developments.</p> + +<p>Before starting for his appointment he thought it might be well to +gather a few facts about the physician. He consulted his copy of “Who’s +Who.” Dickson Latham was a specialist in nervous disorders, a graduate +of several universities, a member of several learned societies, and his +claim to distinction rested on his having written a number of treatises +on cerebral surgery. The last fact seemed significant to Cole. He +closed the book, <span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">77</span>gave Toots another mildly reproachful look, and went +out to lunch.</p> + +<p>A few minutes before half past two he rang the doorbell of the old +brownstone house in the Sixties, just east of Fifth Avenue, in which +Doctor Latham resided and had his office. A young woman in the +reception room handed him a magazine six months old and asked him to +wait. Cole sat down and glanced about him out of the tail of an eye, +while he pretended to look at the pictures in the periodical. It was +a commonplace room, stuffily crowded with upholstered furniture. Two +bookcases were filled with ponderous volumes in drab bindings. It was +the typical reception room of a fairly thriving physician who derives +most of his patronage from the neurotic and dyspeptic individuals of +the upper middle class.</p> + +<p>After a brief wait Cole was facing the physician across a mahogany desk +in the inner office.</p> + +<p>“What seems to be the matter?” asked Doctor Latham in a brisk, cheerful +voice.</p> + +<p>“Nerves,” said Cole, making a lugubrious face. “No appetite. Can’t +sleep nights. Always tired and out of sorts.”</p> + +<p>“Well, well, that’s too bad. You do look a bit run down, Mr. Stone. Let +me see your tongue.”</p> + +<p>“Stone” was the name Cole had given over the telephone. It had seemed +an unnecessary precaution, since Kingdon Cole was known to only a few +people. His name seldom if ever appeared in connection with his work +as a criminal investigator, but Cole always practiced discretion to a +fault.</p> + +<p>While Doctor Latham looked at his tongue and <span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">78</span>felt his pulse Cole +studied the physician closely, without appearing to do so. His first +glance gave him a deep respect for the skill with which the surgeon +of the night before had been made up. Doctor Latham was an inch or so +taller, also a trifle thinner, and his black beard had the vitalic +sheen that is not easily imitated; otherwise the resemblance was quite +impressive.</p> + +<p>“Let me test your heart,” said the doctor, reaching for his stethoscope.</p> + +<p>Cole bared his chest. He was already beginning to suspect that he +was chasing a fool’s errand. Doctor Latham did not seem capable of +deliberate wrongdoing, to say nothing of a fiendish crime. In vain Cole +searched his face for the faintest trace of duplicity. The physician +had the perennial optimism and the bristling cheerfulness that, in +cases of nervous disorders, are far more efficacious than pills and +extracts. The very tone of his voice, together with his hearty laugh, +acted as a stimulant on jaded nerves.</p> + +<p>“There isn’t anything the matter with you, Mr. Stone,” he declared when +the examination was finished. “I can give you a tonic if you wish, but +a couple of days’ rest will do you more good.”</p> + +<p>Cole buttoned up his shirt and replaced his collar. He felt certain now +that his visit to the doctor’s office had been in vain. Latham’s kindly +smile would have disarmed any suspicions remaining in his mind. It was +a charming smile, a flash of white teeth against a setting of black +beard, and it gave the final magnetic touch to a compelling personality.</p> + +<p>Cole chided himself for wasting valuable time, <span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">79</span>but he wished to make +doubly sure before leaving the office. He wondered what would be the +effect on the doctor if he should suddenly mention the name of Malcolm +Reeves. None at all, very likely, he told himself; yet he felt an +itching desire to make the test.</p> + +<p>He took out his pocketbook and looked questioningly at the doctor, +meanwhile wondering how he might mention Reeves’ name in a casual, and +yet sufficiently abrupt, manner to make the test conclusive.</p> + +<p>“Sit down, Mr. Stone,” said Doctor Latham, waving him to a chair. “You +interest me. What is your profession?”</p> + +<p>“Author,” said Cole, recalling that he had two volumes on criminology +to his credit.</p> + +<p>“Ah! And what do you write?”</p> + +<p>“Trifling things,” said Cole modestly. “You probably never saw any of +them. Such frivolous reading matter wouldn’t interest you.”</p> + +<p>“I read very little. The medical journals and a glance at the +newspapers are about all I find time for. Do you know, Mr. Stone, that +you puzzle me considerably?”</p> + +<p>“Indeed!” said Cole absently, still wondering how he might precipitate +Malcolm Reeves’ name into the conversation.</p> + +<p>Doctor Latham smiled genially. A question kept teasing Cole’s mind. +What would be the effect on that beaming countenance if he should +suddenly speak Malcolm Reeves’ name? Probably none whatever, he once +more told himself; but the thought continued to tantalize him.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">80</span></p> + +<p>“There is a type of neurasthenic that is known to every medical +practitioner,” the doctor went on. “Their symptoms are quite well +defined. Their ailments are mostly imaginary. On the slightest pretext +they will run to a physician with a long tale of woe. The physician +in most instances, gives them a little sympathetic advice, a harmless +tablet made up of sugar and dough, and pockets his fee. There’s nothing +else to do. If told that their troubles exist only in their imagination +they get offended and run to another doctor. Personally I don’t care +for that kind of patients. Now, Mr. Stone, you don’t belong to that +type. You are not a neurasthenic, far from it. I wish I had your +nerves.”</p> + +<p>Cole regarded him with a questioning look.</p> + +<p>Doctor Latham laughed pleasantly. “You’re in perfect condition, Mr. +Stone. Perhaps you have smoked too much, or taken too much strong +coffee in the last few days, resulting in one or two sleepless nights, +but there is nothing else the matter with you. Ordinarily you would +have shaken off the effects with a cold shower, or a hike in the +country. I dare say you haven’t consulted a physician more than two or +three times since you grew up. Under the circumstances I am somewhat +curious to know why you came to me.”</p> + +<p>Cole gave him a sharp glance, but the affably smiling face instantly +quieted the misgivings which the doctor’s statement had aroused.</p> + +<p>“What I don’t see,” Latham went on, “is why you went to a doctor at +all, and why to me in particular. We never saw each other until to-day. +I don’t flatter myself by thinking that you knew me <span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">81</span>by reputation. +People who have no regular physician usually go to some one recommended +to them by friends. They don’t like to consult a doctor who is an utter +stranger to them. Perhaps among my patients there is a friend of yours +who mentioned me to you?”</p> + +<p>“That’s it exactly,” said Cole, thrilling inwardly as he saw his chance +to pitch Reeves’ name into the conversation. “Only the other day I was +complaining to a friend of not feeling well, and he suggested I go to +you. His name——”</p> + +<p>“Ah,” asked Doctor Latham, speaking in very soft tones. “I wonder if +you are referring to Malcolm Reeves?”</p> + +<p>For a moment Cole looked as if he had received a blow between the +eyes. He gathered himself in an instant, but not before the doctor had +noticed his surprise. The physician was still smiling, but now the +smile was different. It was frosty and pale. “I see I guessed right,” +he murmured.</p> + +<p>“Is Reeves one of your patients?” Cole managed to ask.</p> + +<p>The doctor leaned back in the chair, crossed his long legs, and gazed +toward the ceiling. Cole became conscious of a distinct chill in the +air, and he felt irritated at himself for having stumbled into the same +trap he had set for the physician. Doctor Latham, he was beginning to +perceive, was a man whose mental thrust was as quick and sure as his +own.</p> + +<p>“Frankness is an excellent policy, Mr. Stone,” observed the physician +coldly. “We shall make better progress if you will put all your cards +on the <span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">82</span>table. You did not come here to consult me about your health. +May I ask why you are honoring me with this visit?”</p> + +<p>“You have not yet answered my own question,” observed Cole, quickly +rallying to the verbal fencing match. “Is Reeves a patient of yours?”</p> + +<p>The doctor lowered his gaze. His piercing eyes searched Cole’s face. A +faint flash of white teeth showed between the bearded lips.</p> + +<p>“I believe that question has a point to it,” he observed. “You ought to +know, Mr. Stone, that a physician never discusses his patients. It is +a very good rule, especially in the present instance. It affords me a +good excuse for not answering your question.”</p> + +<p>“Then you admit you found the question embarrassing?”</p> + +<p>“A discreet man never admits anything, Mr. Stone. I may point out, +however, that questions are never embarrassing, although answers +sometimes are. I believe Wilde says something to that effect in one of +his plays.”</p> + +<p>“Then you positively decline to answer?”</p> + +<p>“In order to spare us mutual embarrassment, yes. You see, Mr. Stone, +there are circumstances in which a truthful answer may convey an +erroneous impression. Now, won’t you tell me to what I owe the honor of +this visit?”</p> + +<p>“Is that a candid question, Doctor Latham?”</p> + +<p>“By no means, my friend. I knew the answer before I spoke the question. +I was merely curious to see whether you would reply truthfully.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">83</span></p> + +<p>Cole smiled. It was evident that Doctor Latham was a past master in the +art of dueling with words. The man’s frankness amazed him. In admitting +that he knew the purpose of Cole’s visit he had also admitted that he +knew something about Malcolm Reeves’ condition. But he had turned his +phrases so adroitly that nothing of a tangible nature could be fastened +on him.</p> + +<p>“Will you tell me how you knew, doctor?”</p> + +<p>“Through a process of elimination. I knew at first glance that your +concern over your physical condition was only a subterfuge. That +narrowed the range of speculation down considerably. In fact, it left +only one possible theory in regard to the object of your visit.”</p> + +<p>“Why only one? Isn’t it conceivable, for instance, that I came here to +see if your office contains anything worth stealing?”</p> + +<p>Doctor Latham shook his head. “You don’t look the part, Mr. Stone.”</p> + +<p>“Well, suppose I am an officer of the law and came here to see if you +are prescribing illegal amounts of intoxicating liquor or habit-forming +drugs?”</p> + +<p>“You didn’t go about it the right way.”</p> + +<p>“Couldn’t I be a long-lost friend or relative?”</p> + +<p>“I haven’t either. You came here for one specific purpose, Mr. Stone, +and I know what that purpose is.”</p> + +<p>Cole regarded him narrowly. “Knowledge sometimes implies guilt,” he +remarked in casual tones.</p> + +<p>“But not always. You think that, because I know the object of your +visit, I have guilty knowledge <span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">84</span>of a certain matter that you are +interested in. That’s a very loose inference, Mr. Stone.”</p> + +<p>Cole thought for a few moments. The other’s indirect frankness amazed +him, yet Doctor Latham was entirely too slippery to permit himself to +be pinned down to hard facts.</p> + +<p>“Each of us seems to have come to stalemate,” observed the physician +after a pause. “Shall we call the game a draw? Both of us have gained +something. You think you have verified a suspicion, while I have +learned to be on my guard against a new source of possible danger. Why +not leave well enough alone?”</p> + +<p>“It’s a good suggestion,” said Cole, smiling. “Thanks for a very +interesting half hour, doctor. Good day.” He bowed and moved toward the +door, but the doctor’s voice made him turn back.</p> + +<p>“Just one moment, Mr. Stone. I think you have forgotten something. My +fee is ten dollars. Ah, thank you!”</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">85</span> +<h2 id="chap_VII">CHAPTER VII</h2> +<div class="subheadc">COLE RECEIVES A WARNING</div> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">HE left the physician’s office a poorer, but a wiser, man. The half +hour had been well spent even though the interview had yielded little +in the way of tangible results. Cole had met an interesting personality +and come in contact with a fine-edged mind. The doctor, with his +subtleties and his evasions, had proven a fascinating character. His +depth and elusiveness carried a teasing appeal to Cole’s imagination. +Cole was not yet through with Doctor Latham.</p> + +<p>He walked to the corner, turned into a tobacconist’s shop, and bought +a package of cigarettes, then stood at the curb and smoked one, while +he glanced now and then at the physician’s house. The drab brownstone +façade seemed as mocking and tantalizing as the man who dwelt within. +It was as baffling and impenetrable as the doctor himself. Cole tried +to analyze his impressions, but it was a hard task. The physician had +admitted nothing except by implication. He had thrown out certain bold +hints, and then he had practically challenged Cole to make the most of +them.</p> + +<p>Cole did not like to draw hasty conclusions, but, after he had sifted +down his impressions, there remained in his mind a picture of a +polished and very artful rogue who performed his machinations with an +adroit touch and a high degree of finesse. The picture was blurred +in spots, and he had to <span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">86</span>use his imagination to touch up the obscure +parts. It was significant, however, that the surgeon’s make-up should +have exerted such a startling effect on Malcolm Reeves the night +before. Beyond doubt Reeves had thought that he recognized the man who +was responsible for his pitiful state. This proved inferentially Doctor +Latham was the man who——</p> + +<p>But Cole did not like to deal in inferences. They were treacherous +things, as he had observed on numerous occasions. He must have more +facts before he began building up theories on the flimsy foundation +which Doctor Latham’s oily innuendos had created in his mind. Meanwhile +it was interesting to note that the clew which he had brought with him +from the circular table appeared to be a substantial one. He had not +convinced himself of Doctor Latham’s guilt, but he had at least found +a promising lead. Reluctantly, for his experience of the night before +still rankled, he was forced to admit that there was a modicum of truth +in what the spokesman had told him.</p> + +<p>He finished his cigarette and was about to turn away, but just then a +figure, rounding the opposite corner, claimed his attention. With a +little start he recognized Professor Carmody. Bending over a stout cane +the professor walked with a jerky gait and the plopping sound of shoes +several sizes too large. He wore a sun-bleached silk hat and, despite +the balmy autumn weather, a long overcoat covered his gaunt form. +Cole nodded in a knowing way as he saw the professor turn into Doctor +Latham’s house.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">87</span></p> + +<p>Thoughtfully he walked away. His suspicions and speculations were +assuming tangible form. Professor Carmody’s visit to Latham’s house +in broad daylight suggested several things. Viewed in connection with +certain other circumstances, it hinted strongly at a bond of interest +between the two men. In view of what Cole already knew it seemed not +so very far-fetched to suppose that they were associates in some +enterprise that was more or less closely related to Malcolm Reeves’ +fate. That Carmody should openly call on the doctor seemed to indicate +that the conspirators felt that they had covered their tracks so +carefully that ordinary precautions could be thrown to the wind.</p> + +<p>Cole cut through a corner of the park, and gradually his perplexities +dissipated themselves in the soft autumnal haze that hung over the +greenery. He knew how to loaf as well as to work, and he possessed the +happy knack of forgetting his problems in contemplation of rippling +waters, or an azure sky. It was thus he conserved his energies and kept +in touch with the softer aspects of life.</p> + +<p>He rested for half an hour, and then he remembered he had a duty to +perform. It was not a pleasant task, but it must be done. Now that +he had learned something definite about Malcolm Reeves’ fate, it was +necessary that he should report progress to his clients. As he retraced +his steps across the park and turned north on Fifth Avenue he wondered +how much it would be advisable to tell. To go into details in regard +to his adventures of the previous night would be impossible, for Cole +himself did not know what they meant.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">88</span></p> + +<p>Ascending the steps of a square-cornered house of gloomy aspect he rang +the doorbell. There was a tomblike air about the residence of Hector +Englebreth that gave Cole a chill each time he visited the house. Out +of deference to the whims of the invalid who occupied it the window +shades were nearly always lowered. Doors turned without the faintest +sound on well-oiled hinges. Heavy carpets muffled the footfalls of +inmates and visitors. The heavily shaded lamps threw a subdued light on +massive and somberly upholstered furniture that seemed to belong to a +remote past.</p> + +<p>A tight-lipped manservant ushered Cole into the library. Englebreth +was seated in a wheel chair before a desk of black walnut. Despite the +infirmity, which an acute case of inflammatory rheumatism had brought +him, his long and triangular face gave an impression of wiry strength. +His shoulders, as he sat hunched in the wheel chair, seemed uncommonly +broad. His face was bloodless; his short-cropped, upstanding hair was +almost white. Except when he spoke, the long, thin lips were tightly +compressed, making him look as though he were constantly exerting his +will power to hide the signs of his suffering.</p> + +<p>“Any news, Mr. Cole?” he inquired in a low, toneless voice.</p> + +<p>“I have made some progress,” replied Cole, also speaking in subdued +tones. In that dim, somber room it seemed natural to speak softly. “I +have reason to believe that your brother-in-law is still alive.”</p> + +<p>Englebreth had been tapping the desk with a pencil. <span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">89</span>Suddenly the +tapping stopped. He gazed fixedly at the detective. “How much reason?” +he asked.</p> + +<p>“I know it to be a fact,” said Cole, weighing his words, “that Mr. +Reeves was alive last night.”</p> + +<p>“So,” mumbled the other in tones scarcely above a whisper. “Professor +Carmody hasn’t done away with him, then. I feared that he might——” He +broke off, then raised his voice a little. “How do you know this, Mr. +Cole? How can you be so positive that my brother-in-law was alive last +night? You don’t mean to say that you have seen him?”</p> + +<p>The last sentence was spoken in tense and vibrant tones, so unlike +Englebreth’s usually colorless voice.</p> + +<p>“Before I answer that question,” said Cole, “I want to ask you one. +What makes you so positive that Professor Carmody has had a hand in +your brother-in-law’s disappearance?”</p> + +<p>“Have you learned something that has brought you to a contrary view?”</p> + +<p>“Please answer my question.”</p> + +<p>A scowl darkened Englebreth’s face. He resumed his slow tapping with +the pencil. “We know that my brother-in-law had frequent and secret +meetings with Carmody. We have established definitely that he had an +appointment with the professor on the night of his disappearance. +One of the servants in his house heard him make the appointment over +the telephone. You yourself learned, from the delicatessen keeper +across the street from Carmody’s place, that a man answering Malcolm’s +description entered the house on that particular night. Fairly +conclusive, I should say.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">90</span></p> + +<p>Cole eyed him levelly. “You are holding something back, Mr. Englebreth. +You have not stated your principal reason for suspecting Carmody in +connection with Mr. Reeves’ disappearance.”</p> + +<p>The tapping became a furious tattoo. “Why do you say that, sir?”</p> + +<p>Cole fumbled for words, then laughed. “I’ll be hanged if I know! It’s +nothing but a hunch. From the first I had a feeling that you were not +telling me all, but I admit I had no sound reason for thinking so.”</p> + +<p>Englebreth, seemingly mollified, smiled. “You detectives are suspicious +of everybody. I suppose that’s a part of your stock in trade. However, +I don’t mind admitting that, in this instance, you were partly right. +I have told you everything that can be of any help to you in your +search for Malcolm; yet there are certain trifling details that, for +private reasons and out of regard for the family, I have not confided +to you. You would not be interested in them, and they couldn’t be of +any possible use to you. It was because of these private and delicate +matters that I took the case to you instead of the police. Now will you +answer my question? Have you seen Malcolm?”</p> + +<p>“I have, Mr. Englebreth. I saw him last night.”</p> + +<p>“Where?” The invalid strained forward in his chair. “In Professor +Carmody’s house?”</p> + +<p>“No; I have not yet seen the inside of the professor’s residence.”</p> + +<p>“Then where did you see him?” The tapping had ceased again, and +Englebreth was waiting breathlessly for the answer.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">91</span></p> + +<p>“That’s the queer part of it.” Cole gave a little baffled laugh. “I +have seen your brother-in-law, but I can’t tell you where.”</p> + +<p>“You can’t?”</p> + +<p>“Because I don’t know.”</p> + +<p>A threatening look crossed Englebreth’s face. “This is no occasion +for jests, Mr. Cole. Even if you have no feelings of your own in the +matter, you ought to respect the sentiments of other people. My wife is +deeply shocked over the uncertainty regarding her brother’s fate.”</p> + +<p>“Pardon me, Mr. Englebreth. I laughed, but it was only out of sheer +bewilderment. I had an experience last night that was so unbelievable +that I shan’t try to describe it. I feel dazed whenever I look back +upon it. All I can tell you is that I saw Mr. Reeves alive.”</p> + +<p>“And well?” questioned Englebreth sharply.</p> + +<p>“He seemed to have been through a trying experience.”</p> + +<p>“You are quibbling. I want the truth.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps I shall be able to give it to you some time within the next +twenty-four hours. For the present I fear you will have to be satisfied +with what I have told you. My impressions of what I saw and heard last +night are not very clear. You will understand the reason when I give +you a full report.”</p> + +<p>“This is strange talk, Mr. Cole.”</p> + +<p>“Not half so strange as some of the things that happened to me last +night.”</p> + +<p>Englebreth sat erect in his chair, regarding the detective with a +piercing gaze. Evidently he was <span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">92</span>far from satisfied, and Cole could not +blame him. Silence fell between them; then a soft tinkling was heard. +Even the telephone seemed to utter its summons in whispers in that +house of subdued sounds.</p> + +<p>The invalid wheeled his chair a little closer to the desk and put the +receiver to his ear. A conversation ensued, and gradually Englebreth’s +face underwent a transformation. Cole could not interpret the new look +that came into his countenance, but he watched it in wonder. In a few +minutes the invalid hung up, and the puzzling expression left his face +as suddenly as it had come. He was smiling when he turned to Cole.</p> + +<p>“On the whole I find your report quite satisfactory,” he said in +conciliating tones. “I appreciate the difficulties you have to deal +with. Don’t mind me if I seem impatient. May I expect to hear from you +soon again?”</p> + +<p>“To-morrow, I hope.” Cole was still marveling at the change he had +witnessed in his client. He wondered whether the telephone conversation +had brought it about. From Englebreth’s part in it he had been unable +to make out its nature, but he imagined that his client had received +news of a startling kind. After an exchange of a few casual remarks he +got up and moved toward the door.</p> + +<p>“Just one thing more, Mr. Cole,” said Englebreth as he placed his hand +on the knob. “Please be careful.”</p> + +<p>“What?” Cole turned and looked back at the invalid. The tone, rather +than the words, had given him an odd sensation. Englebreth’s white face +was <span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">93</span>wreathed in smiles, but Cole sensed a hidden barb somewhere.</p> + +<p>“Just be careful,” said the invalid. “That’s all, Mr. Cole.”</p> + +<p>Cole went out, but echoes of Englebreth’s voice pursued him through +the door and out on the street. The words had sounded as though they +contained a veiled threat of some kind. What could he have meant? He +turned the question over in his mind, time and again. Was it possible +that Englebreth, in some strange and devious way, had learned of the +attempt that had been made to persuade Cole to betray his client?</p> + +<p>The theory seemed grossly improbable, but, as he walked along, he +could think of no other solution. The more he thought of it the more +likely it seemed that his client had, in some mysterious manner, got +an inkling of last night’s happenings. He remembered the agitation he +had shown at the telephone. And later, when he gave Cole that peculiar +warning, his voice had sounded as though he meant to convey a threat of +terrible punishment if the detective should go back on his duty.</p> + +<p>Cole had not walked far when his step began to lag. He paused at a +corner and glanced at his watch. He pursed his lips, then he scowled a +little, and a look of weighty responsibility came into his face.</p> + +<p>It was time to go home and feed Toots.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">94</span></p> +<h2 id="chap_VIII">CHAPTER VIII</h2> +<div class="subheadc">THE UNKNOWN SEVEN</div> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">ALL evening Cole had felt a presentiment that his telephone was to +ring. When it finally did ring, shortly after eleven o’clock, he knew, +even before he lifted the receiver from the hook, that he was about to +receive a message from the mysterious seven.</p> + +<p>His “hello” was answered by the rich soprano voice of the woman who +called herself Miss Brown, but somehow it sounded different. The +frolicsome undertone, which he had noticed the previous evening, was +gone. In place of it there was a faint tremor that hinted of keen +anxiety.</p> + +<p>“I am calling from a public booth near Madison Square,” she told +him. “At exactly twelve o’clock I shall be waiting in my car, on the +southeast corner of Broadway and Twenty-third Street.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll be there,” said Cole firmly. During the late afternoon and +evening he had made up his mind that, if a summons should come from the +mysterious seven, he would obey it.</p> + +<p>“But be careful,” she went on, and the last word had an oddly familiar +sound in Cole’s ears. “An attempt will be made to follow you.”</p> + +<p>“I know,” said Cole lightly. “I’ve been watched ever since I went out +to dinner this evening. I believe somebody is looking up at my windows +this very moment. Have no fear. I’ll shake him off.”</p> + +<p>Again requesting him to be careful, Miss Brown rang off. For a moment, +after the connection had <span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">95</span>been severed, he stood smiling into the +transmitter. Then he stepped to the window and looked out into Gramercy +Park. The sky was partly overcast, and a haze of moonlight and shadows +hovered over the trees. Almost directly below his window stood a gaunt +individual whose eyes were slanting up at him beneath the brim of a +dark felt hat.</p> + +<p>Cole examined his pistol before he put it in his pocket, donned hat and +light overcoat, and went out. On the stoop he paused for a moment and +stuck a cigarette between his lips. Then he swung down the steps and +sauntered up to the watcher at the curb.</p> + +<p>“Pardon,” he said urbanely. “Could I trouble you for a match?”</p> + +<p>The watcher searched his vest pocket and handed him one. Cole caught +a full view of the fellow’s face as he kindled his cigarette. The man +was a stranger to him. Murmuring profuse thanks for the accommodation +Cole walked away. Twenty minutes later, after a devious journey by +foot, subway, and surface cars, he plunged into the traffic jam in the +theatrical district. For a little while he darted in and out among +surging streams of humanity. Then, certain that he had thrown the +pursuer off his tracks, he boarded a southbound car. A tower clock was +signaling the midnight hour just as he reached the appointed corner in +Madison Square.</p> + +<p>“You are very prompt,” observed Miss Brown, as he stepped into the +limousine in which his adventure had begun, exactly twenty-four hours +ago. “You are sure you haven’t been followed?”</p> + +<p>“Only a short distance.” Cole sat down beside <span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">96</span>her, having a weird +feeling that ages had passed since he last touched those cushions. “I +shook off the fellow quite easily.”</p> + +<p>The car was gliding swiftly toward the south, but soon it began to turn +and twist in all directions. The windows were shaded, and Cole could +only guess which way they were going.</p> + +<p>“You’re an audacious person,” murmured the girl. “After what happened +last night I wasn’t sure you would come with me a second time.”</p> + +<p>Cole smiled. “Audacious isn’t quite the word.”</p> + +<p>“No, I suppose not. You’re not the kind of man who indulges in foolish +bravado. Your decision to come with me to-night was the result of long +and careful thinking, after you left Doctor Latham’s office. Your +interview with the doctor convinced you that our acquaintance might +be worth cultivating, despite the rough treatment you were given last +night. Am I right?”</p> + +<p>“In the main. You know, then, that I called on Doctor Latham?”</p> + +<p>“Of course. You have been under constant surveillance since you left +our establishment early this morning.”</p> + +<p>“How flattering! But you puzzle me, Miss Brown. I have been conscious +of being watched only since dinner time.”</p> + +<p>She gave an amused laugh. “One is never conscious of our brand of +espionage. We have men on our staff who have reduced shadowing to a +fine art. They are not so easily shaken off as was the simpleton who +stood outside your windows this evening. By the way, Mr. Cole, aren’t +you harboring <span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">97</span>a little resentment against me for my part in last +night’s affair?”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps,” said Cole dryly, “but curiosity is a stronger motive than +resentment.”</p> + +<p>“You are not at all gallant. Lots of other men would have replied to +that question with a flowery compliment.”</p> + +<p>“They would have been fools. You would have secretly despised them for +it.”</p> + +<p>A little pause. “Thank you,” she whispered, but the words sounded so +faint that Cole was not sure he was expected to hear them.</p> + +<p>The car had ceased its zigzagging course and was traveling in a +straight line. Presently Miss Brown produced the scarf with which she +had covered his eyes the previous night.</p> + +<p>“I hope this is the last time I shall have to blindfold you,” she +murmured, as she folded the cloth into a bandage and covered the upper +portion of his face. “Perhaps the next time——”</p> + +<p>She did not finish the sentence. Just then the car stopped, and she +guided him across the sidewalk and up the stone steps. In a few moments +they were darting upward in the elevator. Again the wall opened at Miss +Brown’s touch on a hidden spring. As it closed behind them Cole had +a hazy feeling of being shut off from the world. They walked a short +distance down the corridor. Then a door opened, and once more he found +himself in the room with the circular table. The girl vanished, and a +voice bade him step forward.</p> + +<p>He walked up to the table. The masked men seated around it looked gray +and ghostly in the <span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">98</span>dusk. He scanned the veiled faces closely as his +eyes responded to the dim light. The black beard was not there; yet he +counted seven faces. Evidently the surgeon was not wearing his disguise +to-night.</p> + +<p>“Very glad to see you, Mr. Cole,” said a voice which he recognized. +“The fact that you have returned is additional proof that we were not +mistaken in you. Sit down.”</p> + +<p>Cole seated himself at the spokesman’s side. His ears were keyed to +catch any suspicious sound, while his eyes cautiously explored the dusk +about him. His right hand hung loosely over the side of the chair, but +it was ready to reach for his pistol at the slightest sign of danger. +He was far from certain in regard to the intentions of the seven men, +and he was determined not to be caught off his guard.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps it will give you some satisfaction to know,” the spokesman +went on, “that you sent one of our men to the hospital last night.”</p> + +<p>Cole smiled faintly as he recalled the fight in the dark. His knuckles +still showed bruises from the blows he had showered on his opponent +before he was overwhelmed by superior numbers.</p> + +<p>“He is a big, husky chap, and he knows how to put a lot of steam into +his punch,” the spokesman continued. “You pounded his face to a jelly. +I don’t think Sam will ever get over the humiliation. His mortification +ought to soften the bitterness you naturally feel toward us. By the +way, you called on Doctor Latham, as I suggested. Did the interview +prove satisfactory?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">99</span></p> + +<p>“It wasn’t conclusive,” said Cole guardedly.</p> + +<p>“We didn’t expect that. The doctor is too wily to permit himself to +be caught so easily. But didn’t your talk with him leave a strong +presumption of guilt in your mind?”</p> + +<p>“It convinced me that Doctor Latham knows something of what happened to +Mr. Reeves.”</p> + +<p>“And to that extent it modified your skepticism in regard to us?”</p> + +<p>“I am here,” said Cole with a shrug. “Isn’t that answer enough?”</p> + +<p>“It is. You wouldn’t have come back to-night unless something had +happened to counteract the bad impression which you derived from your +first visit. No doubt the balance is still against us, but you are +willing to listen to what we have to say. Will you pay close attention +while I state a hypothetical case?”</p> + +<p>“My ears are wide open.”</p> + +<p>“Very well, then. First let me state a general principle. It must have +occurred to you, Mr. Cole, that there is something radically wrong with +the enforcement of our laws and the administration of justice. The +jails are doing a thriving business, and many criminals are convicted +every day in the year. With rare exceptions, however, they are the +smaller fry. Too often the big rascals go unpunished, while the little +fellows get it in the neck. The agencies of law and order are often +powerless when dealing with criminals who perpetrate their malefactions +on a large scale. Are you with me so far?”</p> + +<p>“Go on,” said Cole.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">100</span></p> + +<p>“The cause of this deplorable situation is obvious. The big rascal +evades the law and goes scot-free, while the little fellow breaks the +law and lands in jail. Or else the big rascal violates the law in such +a clever manner that conviction is impossible. He has the best legal +talent on his side. Brilliant and unscrupulous lawyers lie awake nights +scheming how a powerful client might commit crimes with impunity. Often +the big rogue has unlimited resources at his command. If he is in +danger of getting caught a substantial bribe frequently lets him out, +or he uses political or social influence to get clear of the danger. +True, isn’t it?”</p> + +<p>“Unfortunately it is,” said Cole, “but I don’t see what all this——”</p> + +<p>“Just a moment. I am getting to the point as fast as I can. You +must have noticed that the police and other agencies are seriously +handicapped in trying to cope with crime on a large scale. They are +hampered by a number of things, inefficiency, corruption, political +patronage, sometimes indifference on the part of the public. There are +many honest and capable men among them, but their number is too small. +Besides, the machinery of justice is too ponderous and cumbersome. In +its competition with crime it has the same handicap as a truck trying +to compete with a roadster. But that isn’t the worst of it.”</p> + +<p>“You’re painting a gloomy picture,” Cole observed.</p> + +<p>“But you know as well as I do that it is true to life. The most serious +phase of the situation is the fact that the law, in effect if not +in theory, is <span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">101</span>punitive rather than preventive. Our administrators +of justice are too often content with locking the stable after the +horse is gone. It may be a satisfaction to you, when your pocketbook +is stolen and the money squandered, to see the thief go to jail, but +it isn’t doing you any material good. It may be gratifying to you to +know that that particular thief won’t steal any more pocketbooks for a +while, but that isn’t going to compensate you for your loss. The time +to stop the crook is before the damage is done, and that’s exactly +where our police system falls down on the job.”</p> + +<p>“True enough,” Cole admitted. “But what are you going to do about it?”</p> + +<p>He fancied the spokesman was smiling, but he could not be sure. The +others at the table had not spoken a word.</p> + +<p>“There is the Carmody case, for instance,” the other went on, without +answering Cole’s question directly. “It shouldn’t be called that, for +the professor is only a puppet, a dwarf in comparison with the men who +are pulling the strings. You have barely scratched the surface of the +case, so, no doubt, you are amazed at what I say. The so-called Carmody +case is in reality one of the biggest swindles ever projected. It is +being engineered by a group of brilliant and very powerful men who have +enormous resources in brains and cash at the tips of their fingers. +They are working in the dark, with the utmost secrecy and astounding +cleverness. If the authorities at Washington knew what was going on, +there would be a panic all along Pennsylvania Avenue.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">102</span></p> + +<p>“Why doesn’t some one tell them?”</p> + +<p>The spokesman chuckled deprecatingly. “If I should go to them with the +story to-morrow they would demand proof, and I haven’t any. That is, +nothing that is tangible. I am positive of my facts, but proving them +is another matter. In a case like this the proof can’t be produced +until the damage is already done. Having no evidence, I should probably +be met with indifference or skepticism. Even if an investigation were +made, it would be purely perfunctory. The investigators would kick up +just enough dust to blind themselves and tip the conspirators off to +their danger.”</p> + +<p>“But, if things are as bad as you say, something should be done.”</p> + +<p>“Something is being done, Mr. Cole, and that brings me to the +hypothetical case I was about to state. Imagine a group of wealthy +and public-spirited citizens, men of brains, aggressiveness, and +imagination, who have banded themselves together for the purpose of +correcting the condition I have just described. Let us say they have +built up a small, compact and marvelously efficient organization, in +comparison with which the government’s ponderous machinery is like +the truck trying to out-distance the roadster. This organization, +unhampered by graft, political patronage, and red tape, and having +unlimited resources at its command, becomes the secret ally of the +police, the department of justice, and similar agencies. Its existence +is practically unknown to all but its own members. Like the criminal +whom it is endeavoring to combat, it works in the dark and silently. +This in itself <span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">103</span>gives it a tremendous advantage. You are beginning to +understand?”</p> + +<p>Cole nodded.</p> + +<p>“This organization has a corps of brilliant operatives, each one tested +and tried and found one hundred per cent honest and efficient. At its +head is an executive of exceptional ability. All the resources of the +organization are placed at his disposal. He is paid a salary so large +that it should render him immune to all sorts of corruption and amply +compensate him for the fact that his achievements never become known to +the outside world.”</p> + +<p>“For a time all goes well. Now and then the police, or the authorities +at Washington, receive a package from an anonymous source. They open +it and dazedly peruse the contents. It is evidence gathered by some of +the shrewdest detectives in the country and put into shape by the best +lawyers obtainable. It is so thoroughly prepared that it will stand +every legal test. All the authorities have to do is to hale the culprit +into court and read the evidence to the jury. In all cases but one the +verdict has been guilty.”</p> + +<p>“The exception,” the spokesman went on in gritty tones, “was due to +the dereliction of the executive at the head of the corps. Contrary to +expectations and despite all the incentives which he had for remaining +loyal to the organization, the man was corrupted by the other side. No +doubt he sold his honor for a fortune. At all events he disappeared, +and the case collapsed. It was necessary to find some one to take +his place. This time the men at the head of the organization were +determined to <span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">104</span>make no mistake. The next executive must be not only +efficient and fearless, but incorruptible as well. For once the leaders +decided to let the ends justify the means and go the limit in testing +their candidate. Well, they did go the limit. They tried him in acid, +and he assayed twenty-four carats.”</p> + +<p>Murmurs of approval went around the circle. Every face was leveled +intently in Cole’s direction. For several minutes he had anticipated +the trend of the spokesman’s remarks, yet he started a little at the +last sentence.</p> + +<p>“Now you understand,” the other continued. “For some time we have been +satisfied in regard to your ability. Our secret investigation left +us in no doubt on that point. Last night we learned that you could +resist three of the most powerful forms of temptation imaginable—fear, +greed, and a charming woman’s tears. And not only that, but you also +proved your superiority in a physical encounter, in addition to showing +presence of mind and quickness of wit in a most terrifying situation. +You scored one hundred per cent on every point. I am only sorry the +test had to be so severe.”</p> + +<p>Cole sat silent for a time; then he shook the spokesman’s outreached +hand. “It’s worth a lot to me to know that I am a twenty-four-carat +man,” he declared.</p> + +<p>“Then you accept?”</p> + +<p>Cole pondered while his glance swept the masked faces.</p> + +<p>“Who are you?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“We call ourselves The Unknown Seven. The name fits because nobody, not +even our best friends, <span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">105</span>know us in our capacity of secret allies of the +authorities. It’s possible you have seen some of us before.”</p> + +<p>He raised his arm, and each man at the table made a sudden motion +with his hand. In an instant the seven masks had been removed. Then a +glaring light shattered the dusk, and Cole looked in astonishment at +the unveiled faces. Several of them were familiar to him from pictures +that had appeared in the newspapers, in connection with weighty +national or municipal affairs. He blinked his eyes in bewilderment and +was about to say something when the door suddenly opened.</p> + +<p>Miss Brown entered in great haste. She was pale and breathless, and +Cole could see that something of a startling nature had happened. The +seven men rose and bowed as she came up to the table.</p> + +<p>“What is it?” asked the spokesman.</p> + +<p>For a moment the girl’s eyes rested on Cole’s face. There was a +mingling of questioning, suspicion, and reproach in them that +bewildered him. Then she turned to the spokesman. “The red light is +flashing on the indicator!” she breathlessly declared. “Some one is +coming up the elevator!”</p> + +<p>For a moment each man in the room stood rigidly still. Then came a +shuffling of feet and scraping of chairs. Now and then an ominous +mutter was heard. Then, with one accord, all glances turned +threateningly in the direction where Cole stood.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">106</span></p> +<h2 id="chap_IX">CHAPTER IX</h2> +<div class="subheadc">THE RED LIGHT</div> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">FOR a time no one in the room moved. Cole was both amused and puzzled +by the hostile glances leveled in his direction. The attitude of The +Unknown Seven had changed from friendliness to suspicion, with an +abruptness that was almost ludicrous. Miss Brown’s reference to a red +light seemed to have turned them against him in a twinkling.</p> + +<p>He could not understand. He looked at the spokesman as if expecting an +explanation. Now, with the lights on and the mask removed, Cole thought +there was something familiar about his face. It was hewn on rather +rough lines, suggestive of a man of great strength and determination. +The iron-gray hair curled a little. The mouth was firm and gave a trace +of harshness to the face. The eyes, arched by upslanting brows, were +clear and cold.</p> + +<p>Just now those eyes were gazing fixedly at Cole. There was the faintest +suspicion of a threat in them, he thought. He pondered for a moment, +arranged a few scattered recollections, and then the man’s name came to +him. He was Grover Carlin, a criminal lawyer of high standing and great +ability. Cole had once heard him make a masterly address to a jury.</p> + +<p>Only a few moments had passed since Miss Brown had made her breathless +announcement. <span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">107</span>Now one of the seven men sprang toward the door, and the +others followed. Cole and Carlin, walking side by side, brought up the +rear. The foremost of the procession opened a door across the hall, and +the others tumbled in after him. It was a large room, filled with desks +and filing cases, but the first thing that caught Cole’s eye was a +globe of glass in which a red light was flashing at intervals of a few +seconds.</p> + +<p>“What does it mean?” he asked Carlin.</p> + +<p>The lawyer gave him a sharp glance. “It means that a stranger is coming +up the elevator,” he announced shortly.</p> + +<p>“Why a stranger? Couldn’t it be one of your own men?”</p> + +<p>“No. When our own men enter the private elevator they always throw a +lever which prevents the light from flashing. The red light is a danger +signal. The elevator is an automatic one, and it is impossible for a +stranger to operate it unless he is acquainted with the mechanism. Our +visitor must have got the hang of it, somehow. Mr. Cole, you are the +only outsider who has been inside this establishment in weeks.”</p> + +<p>“Am I to infer that I am under suspicion?”</p> + +<p>“Well, it looks rather queer.”</p> + +<p>Smiling, Cole watched the flickering red in the glass globe. “But you +admitted yourself that I am a twenty-four-carat man.”</p> + +<p>The other nodded. “Yes, I know, but——”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps you suspect I arranged to have myself followed here this +evening?”</p> + +<p>“Such a thing is conceivable.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">108</span></p> + +<p>“But the rest isn’t very practicable. I never saw the elevator, much +less learned how to operate it. I was blindfolded both times I came up +in it.”</p> + +<p>“True, but you are a very clever man, Mr. Cole. Your performance of +last night proved that. And the fact remains that you are the only +stranger who has been inside this establishment in a long time.”</p> + +<p>The red flashes had ceased. Cole looked about him. Several of the men +were glowering at him, while Miss Brown regarded him with a look of +doubt and vague disappointment.</p> + +<p>“What about the former executive you mentioned, the man who betrayed +you?” he asked. “Isn’t it possible that he is up to deviltry of some +kind?”</p> + +<p>Carlin shook his head. “The mechanism has been changed since he left +us. Besides, he would know enough to turn the lever to prevent the +light from flashing. It will be interesting to see whether our visitor +knows how to operate the sliding panel in the wall. If he does, you +will presently see a green light in the indicator.”</p> + +<p>It was evident that the lawyer was trying to be fair and withhold +judgment, but Cole could see he was an object of grave doubt. The +others in the room were intently watching the indicator, but now and +then they glanced darkly at Cole. Several of them seemed loath to +suspect him, and among them was Miss Brown; but apparently they could +think of no other explanation for the mysterious intrusion than that he +had played false with them.</p> + +<p>Like the others he fell to watching the glass globe. The ceasing of +the red flashes seemed to <span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">109</span>indicate that the intruder had reached the +top floor. Perhaps at this very moment he was searching for the hidden +spring that controlled the panel in the wall. Cole felt a tingling +suspense as he waited to see whether a green light would appear in the +indicator.</p> + +<p>“What can the fellow hope to gain by coming here?” he asked Carlin.</p> + +<p>The lawyer gave him a searching glance, as if not quite sure that the +question had been asked sincerely. “A lot,” he said dryly. “There +are papers in our files, evidence in the form of memoranda and legal +documents, that certain parties would be willing to pay a great price +for.”</p> + +<p>“But doesn’t he realize that you won’t give them up without a fight?”</p> + +<p>“Usually only the watchmen are here as late as this.” The lawyer gave +Cole another dubious glance out of his cold eyes. “To-night and last +night we have been holding special sessions on your account. Probably +our unbidden visitor doesn’t know that. If he is hoping that he will +have only a couple of watchmen to deal with, there will be a surprise +waiting for him as soon as he gets through the wall, if he does get +through.”</p> + +<p>Evidently the intruder was having difficulties. For several minutes the +indicator had been blank, but the glances of those in the room were +drawn to it as to a magnet.</p> + +<p>Cole’s eyes traveled over the oddly assorted company. A few feet in +front of him stood a retired financier, a multimillionaire, who had +once been a power in Wall Street, and whose money was being <span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">110</span>used +unsparingly to fight corruption and vice. A little to one side was a +philanthropist whose annual benefactions mounted into eight figures. +Three or four of them were strangers to him, and among these was the +surgeon, whose tall figure Cole easily recognized despite the fact that +he had worn a disguise on the other occasions.</p> + +<p>His mind was active while he studied the faces about him. Would the +green light flash on the indicator? Who was the intruder, and was +Carlin right in the surmise that the documents in the filing cases +were the object of the mysterious visit? For a thief to sneak into an +establishment of this kind looked like a piece of foolhardy daring +to Cole. There were nine of them in the room, including Miss Brown +and himself, and no doubt agents and operatives of The Unknown Seven +were within calling distance. There was a lively tussle ahead of the +prowler, if he should succeed in getting through the wall.</p> + +<p>Ten minutes had passed since the red flashes stopped. Cole was +beginning to think that the intruder had met insuperable obstacles. +Perhaps he had in some manner learned how to operate the elevator, but +had failed to familiarize himself with the mechanism that controlled +the sliding panel in the wall. All the while, as these speculations ran +through Cole’s mind, he felt that Carlin was watching him out of the +tail of an eye.</p> + +<p>“Aren’t you a bit hasty in turning to me with your suspicions?” he +asked good-naturedly. “I may be a twenty-four-carat man, but I am not a +worker of miracles, and I’d have to be one in order to <span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">111</span>ferret out your +secrets on such short acquaintance. What about your hired agents?”</p> + +<p>“I trust them as I trust myself. They have been tested and found true.”</p> + +<p>Cole smiled engagingly. “Your experience with the renegade executive, +whom you told me about, should have warned you that tests aren’t always +conclusive. Human nature is about as uncertain as April weather.”</p> + +<p>Carlin gave an assenting nod, but the argument did not seem to +influence him greatly.</p> + +<p>“How will you dispose of the rascal if he gets through?” was Cole’s +next question.</p> + +<p>“That’s a problem. Our success so far has been due largely to the +secrecy with which we have surrounded ourselves. We have nothing to +fear, and no great harm would be done if we should be found out, but we +prefer to continue to work in the dark. So far our absconding executive +seems to have kept his mouth closed, for nothing has leaked out about +us. No doubt he is so busy spending his thirty pieces of silver that +he has no time for gabbling. Besides, the scoundrel has a wholesome +respect for us. He knows that The Unknown Seven has a long arm and a +sturdy fist. If this fellow,” with another glance at the indicator, +“should get through the wall, we shall have to take measures to protect +our privacy. If we find that he has the right stuff in him we may even +invite him to join us.”</p> + +<p>Another five minutes passed. Some in the group showed signs of +restiveness. One of them suggested <span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">112</span>going out and collaring the +prowler, but Carlin vetoed the idea, declaring it would be better to +give the fellow a chance to show his hand.</p> + +<p>The group resumed its silent waiting. A question occurred to Cole, one +that he had been on the point of asking when Miss Brown’s entrance +interrupted the conversation in the other room.</p> + +<p>“How is Mr. Reeves?” he inquired.</p> + +<p>Carlin waited for several moments before he answered. “There has been +no change in his condition in the past twenty-four hours,” he finally +announced.</p> + +<p>“He is still here?”</p> + +<p>The lawyer nodded. He did not seem very communicative on that subject.</p> + +<p>“You know, of course,” Cole went on, “that it isn’t in strict +accordance with the law for you to keep him here?”</p> + +<p>A thin smile twisted Carlin’s lips, but his only response was a shrug.</p> + +<p>“My duty to my clients gives me an interest in the matter,” Cole +pointed out. “You are keeping Mr. Reeves a prisoner.”</p> + +<p>“By no means. Mr. Reeves is our guest, and so far he has not voiced +any objections.” He gave a grim chuckle. “Furthermore he is infinitely +better off here than where we found him. He would probably have been +dead by this time if we hadn’t taken him away.”</p> + +<p>“From where?”</p> + +<p>The lawyer’s wintry gaze rested for an instant on his face. “From the +residence of Professor <span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">113</span>Carmody, as you probably either know or can +readily guess.”</p> + +<p>“You kidnaped him?”</p> + +<p>“Call it that if you like. We saved Mr. Reeves from certain death. +Professor Carmody is the only one who has cause for feeling aggrieved +at what we have done.”</p> + +<p>Cole nodded thoughtfully. He had kept Carmody under observation for +some time, and of late he had noticed a change in him. He understood +now why the professor had seemed excited and ill at ease the last few +days. His comings and goings had been more frequent and there had been +several signs of something unusual on foot about the house on Bleecker +Street.</p> + +<p>“So that you may feel quite reassured in the matter,” Carlin went on, +“let me tell you that Mr. Reeves is under excellent care. A specialist +is studying his condition, and there’s a chance, though a very remote +one, that he may recover his mental faculties, wholly or in part. If he +does, I fancy he will have a very entertaining story to tell.”</p> + +<p>He looked sharply at Cole just then, as if trying to measure the effect +of his words, but Cole’s face showed nothing but deep thought. He had +obtained a glimpse into the working methods of The Unknown Seven, and +he had found fresh proof of the efficiency and the resources of the +organization. A splitter of hairs might not have found its methods +strictly legal, but there was such a thing as the end justifying +the means. Quite likely Carlin was right in saying that Reeves had +been rescued from certain death at the hands of Professor <span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">114</span>Carmody. +Probably, too, a great deal more could be accomplished by this informal +course of procedure than by strict adherence to the letter of the law. +Cole was so deeply impressed that for the moment he forgot that he was +under suspicion.</p> + +<p>“If Reeves ever tells his story, I’d like to be there,” he declared.</p> + +<p>“You may have an opportunity to do so,” dryly remarked the lawyer. +“Until we have satisfied ourselves on one or two little points we shall +have to ask you to remain here as our guest. In the meantime——”</p> + +<p>A medley of mutters and hushed exclamations interrupted him. +Instinctively Cole glanced at the indicator. A tongue of green flame +was shooting up and down in the glass globe. Fascinated, he watched the +darting flashes.</p> + +<p>“Get back!” ordered Carlin, waving a hand at the men who stood huddled +into a knot before the indicator. In his other hand gleamed the barrel +of a pistol. Cole admired the ease and coolness with which he was +taking charge of the situation. Following the direction of his pointing +finger, the men crowded into a corner of the room. Miss Brown followed +them, and, as she crossed the floor, she gave Cole a glance that +stabbed within him.</p> + +<p>Carlin touched a button; the room went dark. Keeping Cole close at his +side he took up a position a few feet in front of the others. “I must +warn you not to move,” he whispered in Cole’s ear.</p> + +<p>“Have no fear,” Cole whispered back. “I’m as anxious to see this +through as you can possibly be.”</p> + +<p>The lawyer’s strategy was simple. If the intruder’s <span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">115</span>aim was to get +hold of some of the documents in the filing cases he would probably +come straight to this room. The fact that he had mastered the mechanism +of the elevator and the hidden door seemed to indicate that he was +fairly well familiar with the lay of the establishment. Evidently the +lawyer’s plan was to catch him red-handed and take him by surprise.</p> + +<p>Cole was conscious of a growing disquietude as he stood beside the +lawyer, looking in the direction of the door through which the intruder +must pass. He had a hazy feeling that Carlin’s plan was too simple, but +he could not tell exactly what was wrong with it. Not a sound was heard +in the room. The door had been left open a crack, and a narrow wedge of +light filtered in, but most of the room was an impenetrable blur.</p> + +<p>A minute passed. In vain Cole strained his ears to catch the sound of +approaching footsteps. His uneasiness grew, but he could not understand +why. As if his misgivings had been communicated to the lawyer, the +latter mumbled something under his breath. The moments flew, and still +no sound was heard in the corridor. Either the intruder’s footfalls +were thoroughly muffled, or else——</p> + +<p>Cole did not finish the thought. A vagrant suspicion held his senses +spellbound. For a moment longer he listened for footfalls that did not +come, and then his vague apprehensions crystallized in a flash. He +gripped the lawyer’s arm so violently that Carlin gasped.</p> + +<p>“You were wrong!” he whispered hoarsely. “The <span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">116</span>fellow isn’t after any +papers. He came here to get Reeves.”</p> + +<p>Cole, with his hand tightly gripping Carlin’s arm, felt a sudden shock +shooting through the man at his side. In a twinkling the lawyer seemed +to have grasped his meaning. Now, muttering something, he sprang +forward. In an instant the lights were on again, and Carlin was running +toward the door. Cole followed, but in a moment the two men came to a +dead stop.</p> + +<p>A short, piercing cry sounded. It died abruptly, leaving a curious +emptiness in the air. The two men stared at each other, and Cole saw a +gray film creep over the lawyer’s face.</p> + +<p>“Too late!” he exclaimed.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">117</span> +<h2 id="chap_X">CHAPTER X</h2> +<div class="subheadc">PURSUIT</div> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">THE scream had ended with a certain grim abruptness that to the +listeners could mean only one thing. It had seemed to stop in the +middle; yet it had been punctuated with an ominous finality. It was as +if death itself had stepped in and placed an exclamation point after an +unfinished cry.</p> + +<p>Then came utter silence. It seemed as though every sound and every +breath of life had been sucked out of the air. Carlin, his lips drawn +apart at one side, looked fixedly at the door. His head, shoulders and +chest were straining forward; he appeared to be maintaining his balance +by sheer mental tension. A few moments passed, and then Cole shook +himself free of the insidious horror that attacks even the strongest. +Less than thirty seconds had elapsed since the cry sounded.</p> + +<p>“Where is he?” he asked, shaking the lawyer’s arm.</p> + +<p>“He?” Carlin seemed to be trying to shake off a spell. “Oh, Reeves, you +mean. Back there.” He pointed indefinitely toward the corridor.</p> + +<p>“Brace up, man!” Cole shouted. “Go to him. Maybe something can be done. +Hurry!”</p> + +<p>He bounded to the door and out in the hall. His words had voiced a hope +that he did not feel. The cry had told him only too eloquently that +Reeves was beyond help. But there might still be time to <span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">118</span>catch the +murderer, if he made haste. Heedless of Carlin’s belated shout to him +to stop, he hurried down the long and dimly-lighted corridor. Confused +cries and scurrying footfalls sounded behind him, signifying that the +others had come out of their temporary stupor.</p> + +<p>Cole shut his ears to the bedlam. All he saw and heard was a shadow +darting toward the end of the hall and a patter of swift feet. At the +farther end of the corridor, at the point where Miss Brown and himself +had entered the headquarters of The Unknown Seven, was an opening. He +came up to it just in time to see the fleeing shadow slip through.</p> + +<p>“Stop, or I’ll wing you!” he cried, jerking his pistol out of his hip +pocket, but the fugitive paid no heed. Crouching low, he ran with +zigzagging motions across the open space toward the elevator shaft. +Cole aimed low and pulled the trigger. The bullet thudded against the +flagged flooring, and through the smoke he saw the fugitive spring into +the cage. Already the door was clanking shut. He plunged forward and +kicked his foot into the opening, just in time to stop the sliding door +from closing. He caught a glimpse of a stiff felt hat, a sallow face +with a mocking grin, a lean and slightly hunchbacked figure, and then +the cage shot downward.</p> + +<p>Cole, standing with his right foot caught between the door and the +steel jamb, muttered a malediction, but it was aimed mostly at himself. +The little hunchback had eluded him with an agility that aroused his +admiration, even while it made him <span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">119</span>grit his teeth. He flung the +door wide open. Only a few moments had passed since the cage started +downward, and it had not got far. There was something tantalizing about +the swiftness with which it increased the distance between himself and +the fleeing man.</p> + +<p>For a moment Cole gauged his chances. He gazed at two sets of cables +that glided up and down inside the shaft. His next move would have +seemed foolhardy to an onlooker, but Cole had carefully measured the +risk. It was one of those tense moments in which the mind leaps quickly +to decisions. The time it took him to determine what to do was only a +matter of seconds.</p> + +<p>He flexed his muscles and then he leaped. For an instant his form +hurtled through space, then his hands closed tightly around the +downward gliding cable. He wound his legs about it and clamped it +between his feet. The swift descent made him feel as if he were sucking +ice-cold air into his lungs. The cage, some twenty-five or thirty feet +below, was dropping like a rock, but now Cole was following at an equal +rate of progress.</p> + +<p>Ten floors slipped past, then fifteen, finally twenty. Cole’s hands +were raw and bleeding. Hot and cold flashes were chasing up and down +his back. His lungs were straining, and a treacherous numbness was +creeping into his limbs. He looked down at the roof of the cage and +smiled. No doubt the fleeing man felt that his escape was already as +good as accomplished.</p> + +<p>The cage stopped so suddenly that the vibration of the cable almost +made Cole lose his hold. He <span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">120</span>slipped a little farther down, then +checked his descent opposite the level of the second floor. The shaft +was narrow, and he could easily reach the door with one hand, while he +clung to the cable with the other. Installed for private and secret +use the elevator equipment lacked several safety devices that would +have acted as a hindrance to Cole. As it was the door slid open easily. +Seizing the jamb with one hand he swung free of the cable and landed on +the floor.</p> + +<p>He felt a trifle dizzy, but the thrill of pursuit acted as a stimulant. +Just around the shaft was a stairway, and he hurried down. Only a few +moments ago a metallic clanking had signified that the fugitive was +getting out of the cage. As Cole reached the lower steps he saw a long +open space in front of him, and at its farther end he caught a glimpse +of the hunchback, slipping out through the door. His ears caught +the sound of throbbing motors, warning him that a car was waiting +outside to speed the fugitive to safety. Conscious of nothing but the +exhilaration of the hunter he bounded to the door and emerged on the +sidewalk, just as a tail light gave him a mocking wink and disappeared +around the corner.</p> + +<p>There was a fine mist in the air. On all sides the tops of the tall +office buildings reared their heads in a translucent haze. The streets, +which in the daytime swarmed with humanity, were now deserted. Cole +guessed that it must be about two o’clock, but he did not take time to +look at his watch. The taunt of the tail light egged him on. He threw +his head back and his chest out <span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">121</span>and broke into a sprint. Rounding the +corner at full speed he once more caught a glimpse of the jeering tail +light. But it was only a glimpse, for a moment later it was out of +sight.</p> + +<p>Cole tried to run faster, but he realized that, unless something +unforeseen happened, he was running a losing race. The car had the +advantage in speed and endurance. With scarcely a stop, save for the +possible interference of a traffic officer, it might travel all the way +from one end of Manhattan to the other. He kept up the pursuit only +because he hated to cry quits. Besides, as long as he could continue +the chase, there was always the possibility that chance might come to +his aid.</p> + +<p>Once more he caught sight of the tail light, this time quite a distance +ahead. Letting out the final ounce of energy he succeeded in quickening +his speed a little. He ran and ran, but his breathing became alarmingly +heavy. It would not be long before his wind gave out, but at least he +would have the satisfaction of knowing that he had done his best. His +gait was growing wabbly when the unexpected occurrence for which he had +been hoping came along.</p> + +<p>Not even a village street is quite so dead as is the financial section +of New York in the small hours. Skyscrapers, towering in a jungle of +silence and dim lights, give a majestic touch to a stillness that is +seldom broken, save by the footfalls of policemen and private watchmen. +To Cole, therefore, it seemed nothing but a stroke of luck that a +taxicab should come along at that moment. He hailed the driver.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">122</span></p> + +<p>“See that car?” He pointed at the tail light twinkling in the distance. +“Can you overtake it?”</p> + +<p>“I’ll try,” said the chauffeur, peering at him from beneath the visor +of his cap. “This is a pretty good old boat, though she ain’t much on +looks. Good for a fine if I get pinched?”</p> + +<p>“Sure,” said Cole easily, though not altogether unmindful of the +slender roll in his pocket. He stepped in, and the cab jumped forward. +It rattled and lurched and creaked in the joints, as if in imminent +danger of falling to pieces, but he noticed with satisfaction that it +had a surprising capacity for speed. It swerved and slithered at a +giddy rate, at times almost jogging him out of his seat.</p> + +<p>Pursued and pursuer wound their way out of the maze of chopped-up and +tangled streets to the south of Washington Square. The car ahead swung +into Fifth Avenue, at a slightly reduced speed, and the taxicab slowed +down accordingly. From now on it was not only easier to keep up with +the larger car, but there was also less danger of the fugitive becoming +aware of pursuit, for, even at that hour, there was a sprinkling of +traffic on the avenue.</p> + +<p>It suddenly dawned on Cole that he was in a unique position. The +capture of the hunchback now seemed certain, but what was he to do with +the man after he had caught him? If he turned him over to the police, +which seemed the proper and regular thing to do, he would be compelled +to tell things which, in a sense, he was pledged not to reveal. Despite +all that had happened and notwithstanding the harsh treatment inflicted +on him, he had come away with a rather high opinion of The Unknown +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">123</span>Seven. They had trusted him, at least for a time, until the coming of +the hunchback turned their suspicions against him, and Cole was not +inclined to violate a trust.</p> + +<p>Now, that he came to think of it, there was really very little he could +tell, even if he were disposed to divulge what he knew. In a strict +sense he did not know that the hunchback had murdered Reeves. For +that matter he did not know that Reeves was dead. Though personally +convinced on both points he could not tell a convincing story to the +police, for he had neither witnessed the commission of the crime nor +seen Reeves’ dead body.</p> + +<p>Still another thought came to him as he bobbed up and down and from +side to side in the cab. He gave a short, dazed laugh. Even if he had +witnessed the deed and seen the body he would have been unable to +direct the police to the scene of the crime. His dizzying descent in +the elevator shaft had left him a trifle giddy. He had rushed away in +great haste, his whole mind fixed on the one idea that the hunchback +must not be permitted to get away. In his hurry he had given no thought +to the location of the building. He had strained every nerve and muscle +in his efforts to keep the car in sight, and there had been no time to +notice street signs. Like many a New Yorker, he had seldom had occasion +to visit the financial section, and many of the streets in that +district were nothing but names to him.</p> + +<p>Though there was ample extenuation, Cole chided himself for a +blunderer. He had missed <span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">124</span>his chance to learn where the headquarters +of The Unknown Seven was situated. The general boundaries of the +neighborhood were a shade more clearly defined in his mind, but he +knew scarcely more than he had known before. The rendezvous of the +organization could be in any one of half a hundred buildings. Even +if he should stumble upon the right one he doubted whether he would +recognize it.</p> + +<p>In the midst of his musings the cab stopped with a suddenness that +jerked him out of his seat. He glanced out and saw that the hunchback’s +car had halted two blocks ahead. They were somewhere in the Sixties, +and to the west were the black masses of the park. The hunchback was +getting out and turning down the side street, but car and driver were +proceeding north.</p> + +<p>A suspicion was dawning in Cole’s mind as he stepped out of the +taxicab. It was rather odd that the chase should have ended at this +particular point. He paid the chauffeur, adding a generous tip to the +fare. He hurried to the corner where the car had stopped and swung into +the side street, just in time to see the hunchback disappear in the +shadow of a house. Cole hastened after him, stopping before a dark and +somber house with a brownstone front.</p> + +<p>His hazy suspicion was confirmed. It was odd how the scattered pieces +of the mystery were beginning to dovetail. His pursuit of the hunchback +had led him to the house of Doctor Dickson Latham.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">125</span> +<h2 id="chap_XI">CHAPTER XI</h2> +<div class="subheadc">BEHIND THE LOCKED DOOR</div> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">THE moon was shining through a silver-gray mist, giving the row of +buildings a shadowy appearance. A fresh fragrance drifted out from the +park, on the scarcely perceptible breeze. A milk cart rattled down the +block; otherwise the street was deserted.</p> + +<p>Cole peered sharply into the dark basement entrance. He suspected the +hunchback had entered the doctor’s house that way. Down the steps he +went and tried the knob, but the door was locked. The two windows on +each side were protected by iron bars. He hesitated for a moment, and +then he mounted the steps to the main entrance and rang the bell. There +seemed to be nothing else he could do, and the shifty-tongued doctor +interested him strangely. Latham’s evasions would be entertaining, if +nothing else.</p> + +<p>He waited patiently, for he had many things to consider. Just what +trend the forthcoming interview was to take he did not know. That +the hunchback should have taken refuge in the physician’s house was +significant, especially since there were good reasons for supposing +that Latham was responsible for the wrecking of Reeves’ mind. That he +had also instigated the murder of the maniac seemed only a reasonable +sequence of the first supposition. In this connection Professor +Carmody’s <span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">126</span>visit to the doctor’s house yesterday was a highly +interesting circumstance. Perhaps the two rogues had planned the murder +then.</p> + +<p>Cole rang again. At the same time he brushed all hasty inferences and +surmises from his mind. He came back to the point that, as far as hard +facts were concerned, he knew next to nothing. He did not even have a +good reason for placing the hunchback under arrest. If he turned the +fellow over to the police he would probably be only laughed at for his +trouble. The hunchback would brazen out of it, and Cole would not have +a leg to stand on. As for Doctor Latham——</p> + +<p>He rang again more emphatically this time. Then he listened to the +queer noises which the reverberations stirred up within the dark house. +As for Doctor Latham, Cole could hope to do no more than draw the +doctor out by deftly aimed questions. It was scarcely to be expected +that such a slippery individual as Dickson Latham would betray himself, +yet something might come of the interview. The doctor might get +careless, or Cole might succeed in confusing him.</p> + +<p>Once more he reached for the button, but just then a step sounded in +the hall. The door came open. It was the doctor himself who admitted +his early caller. It was dark where they stood, and Cole could see +little else than a black beard and a long dressing gown, but he fancied +there were signs of repressed irritation about the doctor, as he +recognized his visitor.</p> + +<p>“Ah, it’s you, Mr. Stone. Please step in.”</p> + +<p>The voice was affable enough. Cole followed <span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">127</span>him through the hall, the +reception room, and into the physician’s office. When they faced each +other across the desk, Latham seemed to have recovered his usual ease +of manners. “Nerves again, Mr. Stone?” he asked pleasantly.</p> + +<p>“No; only a slight headache,” said Cole.</p> + +<p>“And you wish me to prescribe something?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, but it isn’t drugs I want. I came here hoping you would +cure my headache by removing the cause. I have an acute case of +flabbergastation.”</p> + +<p>Doctor Latham’s bearded lips parted in a thin flash of very white +teeth. Cole thought there was something Machiavellian about the smile. +The physician reached out an arm and passed a box of cigars across the +desk. A startled gleam flashed into Cole’s eyes. The movement of the +doctor’s arm had wrinkled the sleeve of the dressing gown and exposed +a narrow rim of the cuff of his pajama jacket. The cuff was pale blue, +and just above the rim was a stain.</p> + +<p>“I can recommend these perfectos,” said Latham genially.</p> + +<p>Cole, easily hiding his surprise, accepted one. The doctor struck a +match, and the stain became visible once more, as he helped Cole to a +light. It was a fresh blot of a dark tinge, probably not more than an +hour old.</p> + +<p>“What is it that flabbergasts you, Mr. Stone?” inquired the physician, +after each man had pulled appreciatively at his cigar. The question was +accompanied with a slight and seemingly casual glance at a door in the +rear of the office.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">128</span></p> + +<p>The glance had not escaped Cole. He picked his words carefully. +“Fifteen or twenty minutes ago,” he began, “a man entered your house.”</p> + +<p>“Yes?” asked the physician in a toneless voice.</p> + +<p>“A hunchback,” Cole went on, guessing that the doctor had carefully +hidden the fellow, while Cole had been kept waiting outside the door. +“He entered your basement, unless I’m mistaken. Odd time for a call, +doctor.”</p> + +<p>“A physician, as you undoubtedly know, receives callers at all hours. +Nothing unusual in that.”</p> + +<p>“But you will admit that this fellow’s mode of entrance was rather +irregular? A physician’s patients do not usually sneak in the basement +way.”</p> + +<p>“Very true, but please come to the point, Mr. Stone. You must grant +that I have a right to receive visitors any way I choose, even through +the chimney, if it pleases my fancy. You tell me that a hunchback +entered my house by the basement door. I neither deny nor affirm it, +but, without wishing to seem rude, may I ask what it is to you?”</p> + +<p>“Suppose the fellow were a criminal?”</p> + +<p>“I never inquire into the moral character of my patients. Their +physical welfare is all that concerns me.”</p> + +<p>“But suppose this individual had committed a murder? You would not care +to harbor a murderer in your house, would you?”</p> + +<p>A slight flicker of uneasiness showed in the doctor’s eyes. “A +murderer? Aren’t you carrying your suppositions rather too far, Mr. +Stone?”</p> + +<p>Again he cast a sidelong glance at the inner door. Cole sensed a hidden +significance in the doctor’s attention <span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">129</span>to that door. It puzzled him +almost as much as did the stain on the cuff. He thought quickly, +estimating how much he stood to gain or lose by a direct attack.</p> + +<p>“I’m not supposing,” he declared bluntly. “I know there is a murderer +in your house.”</p> + +<p>“Oh!” The doctor’s tone was tense and very low. “Whom did he murder?”</p> + +<p>“Malcolm Reeves.”</p> + +<p>“Mal—Malcolm Reeves?” In an instant the physician had kicked back his +chair and was on his feet. With the cigar tightly clamped between his +bearded lips he stared hard at Cole. His eyes were bright as metal, but +there was a glint of grave concern in their depths. In that moment Cole +would have been ready to swear that Latham’s consternation was genuine.</p> + +<p>“Is Reeves dead?” asked the doctor hoarsely.</p> + +<p>Cole gave him a level glance. “He was murdered less than two hours ago, +and the murderer is in your house.”</p> + +<p>The physician stared for a moment longer. An indistinct mutter came +from his lips. Cole wondered whether his face was not pale under the +glossy black beard. Despite his bewilderment and his feeling that the +doctor’s emotions were sincere, he glowed inwardly with satisfaction. +At last Latham’s superb composure had been shattered; now he must +pursue his advantage before the doctor could rally his mental forces +and ply him with unanswerable questions.</p> + +<p>“Doctor Latham,” he asked quickly, “do you <span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">130</span>deny that there is a +hunchbacked fellow in the house?”</p> + +<p>The doctor sat down again. “I don’t feel called upon either to deny or +affirm it,” he declared.</p> + +<p>Cole leaned forward across the desk. “How did that stain get on your +cuff, doctor?”</p> + +<p>The physician’s arm was stretched out flat on the table, and Cole +pointed to the soiled cuff. Latham looked down; for an instant, as he +saw the blot, his eyes widened in astonishment.</p> + +<p>“Oh, that!” He shrugged his shoulders. “I had a simple surgical case +a while ago. It wasn’t serious enough to take to a hospital, so I +performed it in my own office.”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t know physicians ever performed operations in their pajamas. +No accounting for eccentricities, though. Will you do me a favor, +doctor?”</p> + +<p>“That depends. What is it?”</p> + +<p>Cole pointed carelessly to the door at which the doctor had been +covertly glancing from time to time.</p> + +<p>“I would like to see what is behind that door, if you don’t mind,” he +remarked languidly.</p> + +<p>Again a gleam of uneasiness crept into the doctor’s eyes. He regarded +Cole intently, as if trying to ferret out the reason for the request. +Cole, a thin smile on his lips, was puffing leisurely at his cigar.</p> + +<p>“Why?” demanded the doctor.</p> + +<p>“Just a fancy. You have no objection, I hope?”</p> + +<p>The doctor drew himself up. He sat stiffly erect in his chair. A mask +seemed to fall from his face. Dropping all pretense of geniality, his +features took on a threatening look. “I don’t care to humor your fancy, +Mr. Stone,” he declared coldly.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">131</span></p> + +<p>With excessive care Cole ashed his cigar. Then he got up and, with a +slow, but firm, tread, walked toward the door in the rear. His fingers +closed around the knob.</p> + +<p>“Stop!” cried the doctor sharply.</p> + +<p>Cole turned and gave him an amused glance.</p> + +<p>“You are a detective, I suppose?” said Latham.</p> + +<p>“In a way,” admitted Cole modestly.</p> + +<p>“Have you a search warrant?”</p> + +<p>Cole shook his head.</p> + +<p>“Then I must regard you as a trespasser. Mr. Stone, the moment you open +that door you will be a dead man.”</p> + +<p>He reached into a pocket of his dressing gown. In the next instant a +small pistol glittered banefully in his hand. He raised it till Cole +could gaze straight into the muzzle. His eyes, as he looked ominously +at him, emitted the same cold, metallic gleam as the barrel of the +weapon.</p> + +<p>Cole gave him a long, searching look, and he was a keen judge of faces. +At the end of the inspection he shrugged. “Doctor Latham,” he said +evenly, “you haven’t the nerve to kill me.” He turned the knob and +walked in.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">132</span> +<h2 id="chap_XII">CHAPTER XII</h2> +<div class="subheadc">IN FOUR ROUNDS</div> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">IN stony silence Doctor Latham watched the bold move. As Cole opened +the door, a diffident look came into his face. He toyed awkwardly with +the pistol, looked dubiously at the barrel, finally put the weapon back +in his pocket. “It seems you win this round,” he muttered.</p> + +<p>The room which Cole had entered was dark. His hand fumbled along the +wall till he found a knob. At his pressure a light appeared, and it +revealed a man sprawled out in a chair. Except that the coat had been +removed he was fully dressed, and it seemed to Cole that he was sound +asleep.</p> + +<p>He recognized the sallow face of the hunchback, having caught a brief +glimpse of it just as the elevator started. It was not a pleasant face. +The twisted lips looked as though the teeth had been bared in a snarl +just before the man fell asleep. Cole thought he might be a thug or +professional gunman. He looked away and saw Latham in the doorway.</p> + +<p>“You’re a cool one,” murmured the physician, a trace of admiration in +his tone. “Didn’t you know I was ready to shoot you?”</p> + +<p>“You didn’t,” was the laconic answer.</p> + +<p>Latham came closer. He was once more suave and genial. Cole fancied +his astute brain was at work on a scheme of some sort. “Have you seen +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">133</span>enough to repay you for the risk you took?” he inquired. “Is this the +man you are looking for?”</p> + +<p>Cole nodded. “He’s the one who murdered Reeves. Tough-looking customer! +What have you done to him, doctor?”</p> + +<p>The Machiavellian smile came back. “He was in a bad way. I had to give +him a hypodermic. That’s why his crime, if he committed one, doesn’t +seem to weigh very heavily on his conscience. What are your intentions +in regard to my patient, Mr. Stone?”</p> + +<p>Cole stepped closer to the recumbent man. The fellow looked indeed as +though he were deep in drug-induced sleep. Cole raised the arm nearest +him and turned back the shirt sleeve. A little below the elbow there +was a small puncture. He dropped the limp arm and turned away. His +head was full of perplexities and contradictions. A little while ago +certain phases of the mystery had seemed to dovetail to perfection, but +now things were taking an incongruous turn. He felt the physician was +inwardly laughing at his bewilderment.</p> + +<p>“Well, Mr. Stone?” he inquired softly.</p> + +<p>Cole was in a quandary, but he tried hard not to show it. For the +present the wily doctor had several strategical advantages, and +evidently he knew how to use them. It would not be easy to take the +unconscious man away. Even if it could be done, Cole would not know +where to take him. On the other hand, it would not do to let him get +away, as he undoubtedly would as soon as he recovered from the effects +of the drug.</p> + +<p>“This man is my patient,” continued the doctor, <span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">134</span>“and I strongly advise +against disturbing him for the present. I believe a physician’s advice +is usually heeded in such cases.”</p> + +<p>“Your patient seemed to be in excellent health a little while ago,” +observed Cole.</p> + +<p>“Really, you must permit me to be the judge as to his physical +condition.”</p> + +<p>Cole eyed him levelly. “You are a very clever man, Doctor Latham. I +believe you deliberately drugged this so-called patient of yours so +that he couldn’t be removed. It was a fairly ingenious stroke.”</p> + +<p>Latham gave him a curious glance. “That’s a very odd way of looking at +the situation,” he remarked thoughtfully. “I wonder if you aren’t a bit +disingenuous. However, it doesn’t matter. This seems to be my round.”</p> + +<p>His faintly gloating tone nettled Cole. As far as he could see he was +outmaneuvered on every point. Hopeless as the situation seemed to be, +he was determined not to leave the house a defeated man. He rekindled +his cigar, then gazed with mild reproach at the glowing tip. A cigar +never gave him the mental stimulus that he derived from his musty +old pipe at home. Besides, the doctor’s slyly amused glances were +disconcerting. Cole’s thoughts would not travel in a straight line, +and he grew more uncomfortable as he noticed that his helplessness was +beginning to impress the doctor as queer.</p> + +<p>He turned, placed the half-smoked cigar on a tray, and glanced through +the open door leading into the office. The nickel trimmings of a +telephone gleamed under the electric drop light over <span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">135</span>the desk. The +sight of the instrument seemed to give Cole an idea. Deliberately he +walked into the other room and picked up the directory.</p> + +<p>“May I ask what you intend doing?” inquired the physician, following +him.</p> + +<p>“I know a doctor who lives not far from here,” said Cole absently, +while he hastily turned the pages of the book. “I’m going to call him +in for a consultation over your patient. If the fellow is in a bad way, +two doctors are better than one. If there’s nothing wrong with him, I +want to know it. Ah!” his index finger halted in the center of a page. +“Plaza 28826.”</p> + +<p>A faint mutter of dismay escaped the doctor. He stood at Cole’s back, +while the detective put the receiver to his ear.</p> + +<p>“A consultation is quite unnecessary, I assure you,” declared Latham.</p> + +<p>Cole grinned into the transmitter. He suspected Latham would agree to +bring his “patient” back to consciousness rather than have another +physician called in. A thousand slight murmurs sounded on the wire, and +then came the operator’s brisk “Number, please.”</p> + +<p>Cole spoke the number distinctly. He expected Latham would yield rather +than suffer a blow to his professional reputation, but the physician’s +cunning rendered the matter uncertain. And, even if his ruse succeeded, +Cole would score only a temporary advantage. He was not yet sure what +his next move was to be. While waiting for the connection he glanced +over his shoulder. Latham, <span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">136</span>hands clasped at his back, was walking back +and forth.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Cole’s face went blank. A jarring noise sounded in his ears. +In the next instant he knew he was holding a dead instrument in his +hand. All sounds had abruptly ceased. He heard Latham’s triumphant +chuckle as he hung up the receiver.</p> + +<p>“It appears the third round is also mine,” murmured Latham, his bearded +lips parting in a gratified smile. In his right hand he held a pair of +steel nippers.</p> + +<p>Cole gritted his teeth, but smiled complacently. “I would call it a +draw,” he said. “Your act of cutting the wire was a confession, doctor; +a confession that you are up to deviltry. I knew it all along, of +course, but I’m glad you showed your hand so plainly. It’s an advantage +to me to know that you have something to fear.”</p> + +<p>“I hope you derive a lot of satisfaction from it,” declared Latham +easily. “I fail to see how it is going to do you any practical good, +though.”</p> + +<p>Cole himself was not quite clear on that point. It was a moral +advantage rather than a physical one. He gazed steadily at the +physician, studying the triangular outlines of the black, neatly +trimmed beard. It was a bit tantalizing to consider how many shifting +expressions that glossy appendage might conceal. It acted as a mask, +and he was permitted to see through it only when the bearded lips +parted in a flash of teeth. Just now the face told him nothing. It +merely gave him an impression of a man of unfathomable secrets and a +deeply <span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">137</span>plotting mind. Cole felt at once baffled and fascinated.</p> + +<p>“I am curious to know what you will try next,” said Latham after a long +pause. “I don’t want to seem inhospitable, but I’m getting deucedly +sleepy.” He yawned ostentatiously. “If you have nothing further to +propose——” He looked significantly at the door.</p> + +<p>Cole considered for a moment longer, then he selected the most +comfortable chair in the room and sat down. With a languid air he +stretched out his legs and leaned back. “I am worried about your +patient,” he declared, with a sly wink at the room in the rear. “If you +have no objection, I’ll hang around till he comes to. This is a very +comfortable chair. Could I trouble you for another of those excellent +cigars?”</p> + +<p>The doctor stood in front of him, and Cole fancied there was a frown +beneath the beard. “You are going too far,” said Latham severely. +“Suppose I should throw you out?”</p> + +<p>“That would be very rude, doctor. Besides, it couldn’t be done.”</p> + +<p>Latham came a step closer. Slowly his crafty eyes moved up and down +Cole’s figure. Evidently he concluded that the languid appearance of +the man in the chair was deceptive.</p> + +<p>“I might summon help,” he suggested.</p> + +<p>“You might, but I hardly think you will. Being a prudent man, you +realize it wouldn’t do to stir up things. It’s far preferable, from +your point of view, to confine this interview to ourselves. What about +another of those cigars, doctor?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">138</span></p> + +<p>Latham did not move. His eyelids narrowed a trifle as he continued to +gaze at Cole. “You puzzle me,” he declared. “You come here representing +yourself to be a detective, but your conduct is very peculiar. You say +the hunchback in the other room is a murderer, but you have made no +move toward arresting him.”</p> + +<p>“I am naturally lazy,” confessed Cole blandly, “and it would be too +much of an exertion to carry the fellow out of here on my back.”</p> + +<p>“Have you a warrant for his arrest?”</p> + +<p>“None is needed,” said Cole easily, though he perceived that the +conversation was taking a dangerous turn. “It is enough that I have +reasonable cause for believing that the man has committed a felony.”</p> + +<p>His tone faltered slightly on the word “reasonable.” In his imagination +he could picture the faces of the police officials, if he should +undertake to tell them what had happened.</p> + +<p>Latham continued his piercing scrutiny for a few moments longer. “You +looked to me like an impostor,” he declared. “I’ll wager you haven’t +even so much as a pair of handcuffs on your person.”</p> + +<p>Cole jerked himself up straight in the chair. His twinkling eyes +bespoke an inspiration. From his pocket he drew a small pair of steel +links. “Small, but substantial,” he said musingly. “A friend gave them +to me once. I have so little use for them that I wouldn’t carry them +around except for the fact that they are so light and take so little +space in the pocket. Once, in an unexpected pinch, <span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">139</span>they proved handy, +and I have been carrying them ever since.”</p> + +<p>He got up and briskly walked into the room in the rear. A muffled +exclamation escaped the doctor, as Cole fastened one of the links +around the hunchback’s wrist. Then, with surprising ease, he lifted the +man out of the chair and carried him to an operating table in a corner +of the room.</p> + +<p>“What are you doing?” inquired Latham sharply, too amazed at Cole’s +conduct to be able to interfere.</p> + +<p>A short laugh was Cole’s only answer. He stretched the unconscious man +out on the operating table.</p> + +<p>“Are you crazy?” spluttered the doctor. “What——” He stopped short as he +saw Cole’s intention, but now it was too late to act. Cole had placed +the limp figure in such a way that the arm, from which the steel links +dangled, was hanging down along the side of the table. In a twinkling +he had fastened the other link around one of the iron legs. The +unconscious man was now securely chained to the table.</p> + +<p>Cole turned and regarded the physician with a good-humored expression. +“My round, and it’s as good as a knock-out,” he observed.</p> + +<p>Latham stared dumfoundedly. He saw what had happened, but he appeared +at a loss to grasp the meaning of it. “What do you hope to gain by such +tomfoolery?” he demanded.</p> + +<p>“A lot,” said Cole softly. “Your patient can’t get away unless he +takes the table with him, and that would attract attention. A fleeing +murderer is under quite a handicap when he is chained to an <span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">140</span>operating +table. I notice it is all iron and strongly built. The legs are +soldered to the top, so it won’t be easy to take it apart. A skilled +craftsman could do it, but I believe you have a strong aversion against +calling in outsiders.”</p> + +<p>The cold gleam in Latham’s eyes told that he understood. His gaze was +fixed in a speculative way on the two steel links.</p> + +<p>“They could be filed off,” admitted Cole, guessing his thoughts, “but +it would take a long time to get through the chilled steel of which +they are made. An expert might be able to unlock them, but there again +you are hampered by your prejudice against outsiders. You can’t slip +the link off the iron leg, for the braces down below prevent that. +Barring accidents, I think my man will stay here till I’m ready to come +and get him.”</p> + +<p>Doctor Latham seemed a trifle dazed. He ran his fingers awkwardly +through his beard while looking bewilderedly at Cole. “You are an +astounding person,” he declared.</p> + +<p>“You are another, doctor.” Cole smiled engagingly. “Sorry to have +interrupted your night’s rest. Are you going to charge me for this +visit? I believe it was ten dollars last time.”</p> + +<p>“Go to blazes!” said Doctor Latham. He stood motionless beside the +unconscious man, while Cole walked out of the room.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">141</span> +<h2 id="chap_XIII">CHAPTER XIII</h2> +<div class="subheadc">THE MORNING’S MAIL</div> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">JUST as the clock struck eleven, the following morning, Kingdon Cole +emerged in a tingle and glow from his cold shower. He had retired +shortly before dawn, so he had considered himself entitled to sleep +till a late hour, and now he felt the exuberant strength and freshness +that make a man eager for work.</p> + +<p>He stepped to the window, raised the shade, and looked out upon a gray +and drizzly world. He scowled a little. Like all highly sensitized +persons, he was easily susceptible to the weather. When the sky was +clouded, his face was apt to wear a frown. When the sun shone, his face +shone with it. A glance in the evening at the weather forecast could +have told him what mood he was to be in the next day, granting that +weather predictions were always accurate.</p> + +<p>He turned from the window as Toots, with a plaintive “meow,” rubbed her +curled back against his leg. “Hungry?” inquired Cole, looking at the +cat with an expression of grave responsibility.</p> + +<p>Toots held her tail erect and seemed to think the question wholly +superfluous. With a dutiful air Cole brought in the milk bottle, also +two letters which he found outside his door. After a glance at the +handwriting he tossed them on the table and proceeded to appease Toots’ +hunger. He went about it with all the awkwardness of an overgrown boy, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">142</span>spilling a part of the milk beside the saucer, then stood aside and +watched Toots lick it up.</p> + +<p>Over his coffee and toast, a few minutes later, he started to read +his mail. One of the letters was addressed in a strange feminine +handwriting, and he opened it first. He suddenly stopped eating and +took in the contents at a glance. The note read:</p> + +<p>“Come back. I trust you.</p> + +<p class="right"> + <span class="smcap">Miss B.</span>” +</p> + +<p>Beneath the signature was a row of X’s. Cole counted seven of them; +they were the insignia of The Unknown Seven, of course. It was +gratifying to know that the mysterious Miss Brown still had faith in +him, despite the suspicions of the other members of the organization, +but her frankness puzzled him. If the others thought him guilty of +duplicity, why did she not think likewise? She had seen and heard +precisely the same things that the others had seen and heard. As far as +he knew, she had no facts on which her favorable opinion of him could +have been based. What, then, was the reason for her attitude?</p> + +<p>“Woman’s intuition, I suppose,” mused Cole with a glance at Toots. +“That probably accounts for it. But how does the charming Miss Brown +expect me to find my way back to the headquarters of The Unknown Seven? +To locate the building would be about as ticklish a job as finding +a needle in a haystack. I don’t see why she—— Yes, I do! She has +naturally taken it for granted that I had sense enough to make a mental +note of the street and number when I made my hasty exit last night. She +doesn’t know what a half-cocked idiot I am. Shucks!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">143</span></p> + +<p>Cole made a wry face. Somehow he must manage to find the headquarters +of The Unknown Seven. Unless he answered Miss Brown’s summons, she +would naturally suppose that her faith in him had been misplaced and +that he was remaining away because of a sense of guilt. Cole resolved +he would canvass every block in lower Manhattan before permitting such +a thing to happen. How to go about it was another matter, however. A +systematic search would eventually lead him to the building, but that +would mean a waste of valuable time. He must find the headquarters +of The Unknown Seven without delay, not only because Miss Brown had +faith in him, but also for the more practical reason that he would not +know what to do with the hunchback until he had positive knowledge of +Malcolm Reeves’ death.</p> + +<p>He had no fear that his prisoner would escape from Doctor Latham’s +house. He had left the hunchback in a predicament from which the +astute physician would not be able to release him without a great deal +of difficulty; but Cole did not depend on that alone. Tony Pinto, a +ragged urchin whose habitat was the picturesquely squalid section +around Chatham Square, was watching the doctor’s residence. Cole, who +had earned the lad’s everlasting gratitude by once doing him a small +service, had instructed him to keep a sharp eye on the place. Tony +had the wits of a fox and the legs of a deer, and a great ambition +to become a detective. If an attempt should be made to spirit the +hunchback away, Tony would find it out and report to Cole instantly.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">144</span></p> + +<p>Finishing his breakfast he lighted his pipe and composed himself +for hard thinking. The tobacco smoke grew so thick in the room that +Toots blinked at him reproachfully. Suddenly an idea came to him. He +recalled having heard Grover Carlin say that a number of the members +of The Unknown Seven had offices in the building. Cole had recognized +several of the members, the previous evening, from photographs that had +appeared from time to time in the newspapers, in connection with their +social and financial activities. Right here was a clew to the location +of the headquarters.</p> + +<p>He picked up the telephone directory and found the name of Vincent +de Witte, one of the men whom he had recognized. He glanced at the +financier’s office address, and he saw his clew slipping out of his +fingers. The address was somewhere in Union Square, much too far north +to be anywhere near the building he was searching for. Next he looked +up the address of Stephen Aldrich, but with no more success. The +philanthropist’s offices, according to the directory, were in the Times +Square district.</p> + +<p>Cole tried two other names, then tossed the book away in disgust. +It came to him that men like De Witte and Aldrich were engaged in +multifarious enterprises and probably had two or more suites of +offices in different sections of the city. Likely as not the business +enterprises which they were conducting in the headquarters building +were under corporate names, not generally known to the public. It was +not to be expected that men so shrewd as The Unknown Seven had proven +themselves to be <span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">145</span>would leave even the remotest clew to the location of +their rendezvous. Cole saw he must try something else.</p> + +<p>He gazed hard into the monkey’s face graven into the bowl of his pipe. +What with the drizzle outside and the chaotic condition of his mind, +he scowled into the tobacco haze that surrounded him. Why the deuce +hadn’t Miss Brown telephoned him instead of mailing him a letter? +Why was it that women of her type were so prone either to underrate +or overrate the intelligence of the sterner sex? They never accepted +men at their true valuation, but their opinions were always colored +by bias of one kind or another. Cole squinted at Toots while these +thoughts ran through his mind. He had a distinct impression that that +dainty specimen of femininity always regarded him with a sort of lofty +tolerance. Miss Brown, on the other hand——</p> + +<p>Suddenly he remembered the other letter. At first glance he had +recognized the cramped hand of Hector Englebreth’s secretary. He +snipped off the margin of the envelope. Without doubt the letter +contained a sharp reminder that Cole had promised to give his client a +supplementary report on the condition of Malcolm Reeves. He anticipated +a crisply phrased note as he drew out the inclosure. Then a surprise +came to him. The envelope contained not only a letter, but a check +besides. It was for a generous amount. Evidently his client had sent +him something on account. Thoughtful of Englebreth! Cole put the check +aside and glanced at the note, and then he received a second surprise. +He read:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">146</span></p> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">Dear Sir</span>: Mr. Englebreth desires me to notify you that he no +longer requires your services. Inclosed please find check for services +rendered to date.”</p> + +<p>Cole stared hard at the few typewritten lines. The stiffly worded +communication was signed by Hector Englebreth’s secretary. The prim +type and the severe plainness of the engraved name and address in the +upper left-hand corner seemed to convey a breath of the heavy, tomblike +atmosphere that pervaded the Englebreth house.</p> + +<p>He chuckled lightly as he flung the letter aside. It was not the first +time that his independent conduct had lost him a client, and the fact +that he was now cut off from all official contact with the Reeves +mystery did not worry him in the least. There was nothing to prevent +him from attacking the problem on his own account. The curt dismissal +puzzled him, however. He wondered what he had done to displease +Englebreth. His client’s warning, spoken just as Cole was leaving the +somber old house the other day, flashed across his mind.</p> + +<p>“Be careful,” Englebreth had said.</p> + +<p>The words had had a cryptic sound. Cole had wondered at their meaning +then, and he wondered now. Had Englebreth dismissed him because of +his failure to heed a warning which he had not understood? Once +before it had occurred to him that perhaps his client had learned, +in some mysterious manner, of his relations with The Unknown Seven. +Was that what had been in Englebreth’s mind when he uttered that +strange warning? Did his client suspect that Cole was betraying him by +conducting <span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">147</span>secret negotiations with an enemy? The idea did not seem +very plausible, but he could think of no other solution. On the whole +he felt Englebreth had treated him rather shabbily. He had worked +hard and loyally on the case. The abrupt dismissal was, in reality, a +reflection on his honesty. In his resentment he resolved to demand an +explanation of his former client.</p> + +<p>He glanced dubiously at the telephone, recalling that on several +occasions Englebreth had expressed a dislike to holding conversations +over the wire, and he decided that an interview, face to face, would be +more satisfactory. He poured out another saucerful of milk for Toots, +and half an hour later he was ringing the doorbell of the Englebreth +house on Fifth Avenue.</p> + +<p>The drizzle and the leaden sky conferred an added touch of melancholy +upon the dismal mansion. The chill, which he always felt on entering +the house, had a keener edge this time. The rooms, with the window +shades lowered as always, seemed darker and more oppressively silent +than usual. The manservant who admitted him regarded him with an air of +thinly veiled suspicion.</p> + +<p>“I’ll see if Mr. Englebreth is at home, sir,” he announced. His feet +made no sound as he crossed the thickly carpeted floor and passed +through a door that turned silently on its hinges. In a few moments he +was back. “Mr. Englebreth is not at home,” he declared, dropping the +habitual “sir.”</p> + +<p>Cole got up from his chair and gave the servant a playful poke in the +ribs. It was a grotesque <span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">148</span>piece of levity in that house of frigid +dignity, but he could not resist the temptation.</p> + +<p>“You’re a cheerful liar,” he told the man. Then, while the servant +gaped after him in a scandalized way, he strode to the door of the +library and pushed it open. In his wheel chair, beside the black walnut +table, sat Hector Englebreth. A faint color tinged his white face as he +saw the detective.</p> + +<p>“Good morning, Mr. Englebreth,” said Cole genially, and he drew up +a chair and sat down. “I know that ‘not at home’ is a polite way of +saying ‘get out,’ and so I walked right in. Hope you don’t mind.”</p> + +<p>Englebreth leaned forward in the chair and scowled forbiddingly. His +long white fingers beat a restless tattoo on the table. “Why have you +come?” he demanded. “Did you not receive my letter?”</p> + +<p>“I did, and the check, too. Many thanks. The check was quite +satisfactory, but the letter left too many things unsaid. I am here to +ask you why I am being fired off the job.”</p> + +<p>Englebreth glanced meaningly at the door. Instead of the long dressing +gown which he usually wore, he was dressed in a suit of plain gray.</p> + +<p>“I shall be going out in a few minutes,” he declared stiffly.</p> + +<p>“It won’t take you long to answer my question. Don’t you think I am +entitled to an explanation?”</p> + +<p>“Of course, if you insist. I instructed my secretary to write you after +I had consulted my wife about the matter. Since it is her brother’s +life that is at stake, she is more vitally concerned than I am, <span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">149</span>so I +thought it only proper that she should have her say. After I had placed +certain facts before her, she agreed with me that your usefulness to us +is past.”</p> + +<p>“Certain facts? What were they?”</p> + +<p>“I think you know,” said Englebreth in a hard, dry tone. His deep-set +eyes, oddly brilliant in contrast to his pale face, regarded Cole +accusingly. “I am disappointed in you, Mr. Cole. You impressed me as an +upright, honest man, and I had hoped for better things from you. One of +the harshest experiences in life is the discovery that one has placed +his trust in a person who isn’t worthy of it.”</p> + +<p>Cole’s face hardened, and there was an ominous gleam in his eye. “I +think you had better explain that statement, Mr. Englebreth,” he said +with slow emphasis.</p> + +<p>Englebreth shrugged. “You are not candid with me. You know quite well +what I mean, so why pretend? For instance, can you look me straight in +the eyes and tell me that you gave a full and truthful report when you +were here the other day?”</p> + +<p>“It was truthful,” said Cole, “and as complete as I could make it under +the circumstances. If I did not tell quite all I knew, it was because I +was uncertain in regard to some of the facts.”</p> + +<p>A wraith of a smile twisted Englebreth’s thin lips. “And what about the +warning I gave you? I hoped it would serve as a hint that I was aware +of certain mysterious movements on your part. Why did you disregard it?”</p> + +<p>A long silence ensued. Each man gazed sharply <span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">150</span>into the other’s eyes. +There was a glint of steel in Cole’s, a look of stern reproach in +Englebreth’s.</p> + +<p>“Well?” said the invalid. The pale, mirthless smile was still hovering +about his lips. “What have you to say, Mr. Cole?”</p> + +<p>“You have been spying on me evidently?”</p> + +<p>“You are using an unpleasant word. I have merely verified certain +suspicions that concern you. I have also discovered certain facts which +you have seen fit to conceal from me, facts which have a direct bearing +on the fate of my brother-in-law. I don’t think there is anything +further to be said.”</p> + +<p>Cole got up. He could not understand where, or by what means, the +invalid had obtained his information, but it was evident that +Englebreth’s mind was made up, and that no amount of argument could +make him change his views.</p> + +<p>“You are wrong, Mr. Englebreth,” he said evenly. “A lot of queer things +have happened, things I don’t understand myself. But, believe it or +not, I have played fair with you from beginning to end. Some time +before long I hope to prove it to you.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed!” said Englebreth. “I am sure it will be interesting.”</p> + +<p>His tone and the smile that accompanied the words made Cole +instinctively clench his fists. Then he turned away, before his anger +should get the better of him, and hurried from the house. Out in the +drizzle and under the gray sky he shook off his resentment and laughed +at himself. It was ridiculous that a peevish old invalid should make +him lose his temper. Some day, when he had probed the Reeves affair to +the bottom, he would <span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">151</span>make Englebreth eat his words. Just now he had +more important things to consider than the aspersions of an infirm old +man.</p> + +<p>He crossed the street and was about to board a bus when he chanced +to look back and saw a large car draw up in front of the house. A +moment later the massive front door opened, and two servants appeared, +carrying Englebreth between them. They assisted him into the car, and +Cole gazed speculatively after the vehicle, as it glided away down +Fifth Avenue. It was a rare thing for Englebreth to venture beyond +the gloomy confines of his house, and Cole wondered where he might +be going. Perhaps he was about to get into touch with his mysterious +source of information. In that case Cole might learn a great deal by +following him.</p> + +<p>“Taxi, sir,” said a voice, and a cab slowed down at the corner where he +stood. Cole’s hesitation lasted only a moment longer.</p> + +<p>“Follow that green car over there,” he directed. The chauffeur nodded, +and Cole jumped in. The pursuit proved long and devious; again and +again Cole chided himself for wasting valuable time. Then the green car +stopped in front of an office building, and the chauffeur went inside. +Cole dismissed the taxi and took up a position across the street. From +where he stood he could catch an occasional glimpse of Englebreth +through the partly shaded window of the car.</p> + +<p>“Guess I’m chasing a wild goose,” he glumly told himself.</p> + +<p>Englebreth’s chauffeur reappeared, accompanied by another man, and +the two lifted the invalid from <span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">152</span>the car and carried him inside the +building. Slowly Cole started to cross the street. The man assisting +the chauffeur seemed to carry his part of the burden awkwardly, and +Cole could hear the infirm man’s peevish protests. The two men entered +an elevator with their load, and the cage started upward, just as Cole +stepped inside the building.</p> + +<p>A strange, unaccountable feeling came over him as he gazed after the +disappearing lift. He was conscious of a faint tingling from head +to foot. With an abstracted look in his eyes he gazed upward, then +to the sides. He moved about along the row of elevators, and even +his footfalls had a curious sound, a sound that he seemed to vaguely +recognize. The elevator starter approached and inquired what he was +looking for, but Cole only shook his head in a preoccupied way.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he laughed aloud. In a twinkling all his confused impressions +clarified. Once more he glanced upward. He knew, though he could not +tell why or how, that far overhead was the rendezvous of The Unknown +Seven.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">153</span> +<h2 id="chap_XIV">CHAPTER XIV</h2> +<div class="subheadc">COLE’S RUSE</div> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">COLE’S conviction that he had found the building occupied by The +Unknown Seven was a matter of instinct rather than reason. He felt that +once before, and not so long ago, his feet had trod the squares of +stone that composed the floor. The surroundings had a remotely familiar +appearance; perhaps he had subconsciously caught a glimpse of them as +he rushed out in pursuit of the hunchback. Along the wall opposite the +elevators was a row of small shops, a cigar store, a haberdashery, a +news stand, and, on the corner, the office of a broker. Cole glanced at +the signs, and they stirred hazy recollections in the back of his mind.</p> + +<p>There could be no doubt of it; chance and Mr. Englebreth had led him to +the very place he had been most anxious to find.</p> + +<p>On the wall in the back was a directory of the tenants. “Security +Building” it said at the top, and the very name smacked of +conservatism, stability, and decorum. It spelled efficiency and prose +and left the imagination untouched. It hinted of things far removed +from the secret activities of the group of strange men who occupied +the top floor. He ran his eyes down the names of corporations and +individuals, but there was none that interested him. Among the former +were probably several in which members of The Unknown Seven were +concerned, but he had no means of identifying them.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">154</span></p> + +<p>He turned away and grinned sheepishly, as he noticed that the elevator +starter was squinting at him in a suspicious way. There were five +elevators, but, after he had seen them all come up and down, he knew +that none of them was the automatic one used privately by the members +of the organization. For a time he was puzzled. At the farther side +of the shaft was a door marked “Private,” and beyond this a flight of +stairs. No doubt they were the same stairs he had rushed down the night +before, after stopping his dizzy descent at the second floor.</p> + +<p>But it was the door between the stairs and the shaft that claimed his +interest. The single word, “Private,” stenciled in black letters on a +golden-brown surface, piqued his curiosity. It was plainly a hint to +strangers to keep out. Signs of that kind had held a strong fascination +for Cole ever since he was a boy. It was just as if some one had dared +him to pass through the forbidden door. He tried it furtively, though +well aware of the starter’s oblique scrutiny. It was locked, as he +had expected, but the word, “Private,” continued to tantalize him. +What could be on the other side of the locked door? The office of the +superintendent of the building, perhaps. Or, maybe, the establishment +of a mail-order concern that did not care for personal relations with +its customers. On the other hand it might be only a storeroom where the +scrub women kept their mops and brooms and buckets. All these guesses +seemed plausible enough, but Cole strongly suspected something entirely +different. Unless he <span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">155</span>were greatly mistaken, the door was the entrance +to the private elevator.</p> + +<p>Wishing to verify his surmise, he walked up to the starter and, in a +tone which might have signified that he was an agent for the building +department or the inspector of an insurance company, inquired by whom +the private door was being used.</p> + +<p>“A bunch of nuts,” said the starter, moved to loquacity by Cole’s +official air. “They come an’ go at all hours. They’s some big bugs +among ’em, too. Guess they belong to wunna them secret societies.”</p> + +<p>Cole tried to learn more, but the man became suddenly tight-lipped +and referred him to the superintendent of the building for further +information. “It’s agin’ my orders to talk about the tenants,” he added.</p> + +<p>Cole nodded understandingly and stepped aside. The locked door seemed +to bar further progress for the present. Just then he remembered his +original errand. He had almost forgotten Englebreth. The cage into +which he had seen the invalid carried had just reached the ground +floor and was disgorging passengers. Cole waited till it was ready to +make another trip, then stepped in and slipped a small bill into the +operator’s hand.</p> + +<p>“You carried up a crippled person some ten or fifteen minutes ago,” he +said in an undertone. “Where did he go?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, him!” The operator grinned as he stuffed the bill into a pocket. +“He comes here every now and then. You’ll find him in 2512, sir. It’s +the top floor.”</p> + +<p>Cole got out on the twenty-fifth floor. To all <span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">156</span>outward appearances +it was, indeed, the top floor of the building. The elevator shaft +terminated in a blank ceiling, and the stairs in the back extended no +higher. It was somewhat tantalizing to know that directly above him, +and yet completely out of reach, was the rendezvous of The Unknown +Seven.</p> + +<p>Cole paused outside the door numbered 2512, but he did not knock. +He could think of no pretext for seeking another interview with +Englebreth. The office, as was indicated by the sign on the frosted +glass, was occupied by the Bureau of Civil Research, and he made a +mental note of the fact. He could see no particular significance in +Englebreth’s visit to a place of that kind. No doubt the Bureau of +Civic Research was one of the numerous activities that his former +client cultivated as a hobby. As far as his original purpose was +concerned it looked as though Cole had wasted his time, but there was +consolation in the fact that he had incidentally found the headquarters +of The Unknown Seven. For the moment, however, he did not see how he +was to profit by his discovery.</p> + +<p>He descended, cast a mildly baffled glance at the private door, and +went out to lunch. It seemed as if there was nothing for him to do but +loiter in the vicinity of the building and wait for one of the members +to appear. Idleness irked him, however, and he disliked the thought +that such a small thing as a locked door was standing in his way. He +cudgeled his brain for an idea, as he strolled out of the restaurant.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he found one, and he walked two blocks and ducked into a +subway entrance. Soon he was <span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">157</span>aboard an uptown train, bound for Doctor +Latham’s residence. He suspected that in the pockets of the hunchback +he would find a key that would unlock the door. If his guess had been +correct, and the door opened into the elevator used by The Unknown +Seven, then the hunchback must have passed through that very door the +previous night. He could not have done so unless he had a duplicate +key. He might have thrown it away, of course, but the chances were that +it was still in his possession.</p> + +<p>Cole looked sharply about him as he walked down the block in which the +doctor resided. He knew Tony was lurking somewhere in the neighborhood, +but the youngster had a surprising knack at making himself +inconspicuous when the occasion demanded it. He rang the doctor’s +doorbell and was told by the white-capped attendant who admitted him +that the physician was engaged with a patient. Cole waited in the +reception room. Evidently Latham did not permit his other enterprises +to interfere with his practice, for several patients were waiting to +consult him.</p> + +<p>Presently the door opened, and the doctor arched his brows as he saw +Cole in the waiting group. After a moment’s hesitancy he motioned him +to enter the consulting room.</p> + +<p>“How is the patient, doctor?” inquired Cole briskly, glancing at the +door in the rear.</p> + +<p>Latham stroked his glossy beard. “As well as can be expected, +considering the awkward position you left him in. He has difficulty +getting about.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">158</span></p> + +<p>“Then you have not yet succeeded in extricating him from his +embarrassing predicament?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no!” said the doctor with a dry laugh. “I haven’t even tried. I +just removed him to one of the spare bedrooms upstairs. He was in the +way down here. You wish to have a talk with him, I suppose? I fear it +is impossible. He grew hysterical a while ago, and I had to give him a +sedative.”</p> + +<p>“It doesn’t matter. I just want to look at him.”</p> + +<p>Latham gave him a queer glance, then he smiled knowingly. “I see,” he +murmured. “You wish to make sure that he hasn’t escaped, despite the +handicap you imposed on him. This way.”</p> + +<p>He opened a door and preceded Cole up a flight of stairs. They entered +a room, and Cole saw the hunchback stretched out on the operating table +and sound asleep. The physician watched him narrowly as Cole stepped +up to the recumbent man and began to explore his pockets. A blank look +came into the doctor’s eyes when Cole, with a murmur of satisfaction, +extracted a key.</p> + +<p>“As I observed once before,” said Latham, “you are a most astounding +person. I wonder what the significance of that key might be.”</p> + +<p>“Every key has a mission, doctor, and that is to unlock some door.”</p> + +<p>The physician regarded him thoughtfully. “I don’t understand you at +all. You do such unexpected things. I am still wondering what your +intentions are with respect to my patient.”</p> + +<p>“For the present my only concern is that he shan’t get away.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">159</span></p> + +<p>The doctor pondered for a few moments longer, then he shrugged his +shoulders, and the two men walked down the stairs in silence. As they +reached the consultation office and were about to pass into the outer +room, Latham paused with his hand on the doorknob. “Would it surprise +you very much,” he asked in slow, incisive accents, “if I were to tell +you that I am just as anxious as you can possibly be that the fellow +upstairs shan’t get away?”</p> + +<p>Cole’s eyes opened wide. “No, it wouldn’t surprise me. I would simply +be unable to follow you. You are a deep one, doctor; nothing that you +could say or do would startle me.”</p> + +<p>Latham’s face relaxed in a smile. “I construe that as a compliment. +Please appease my curiosity on one point. You have taken extraordinary +precautions against my patient escaping, but what about myself? Aren’t +you afraid that I might run away?”</p> + +<p>“I am not,” said Cole emphatically. “You are not the kind that runs +away. You work by subtler means than that. Where men of coarser +mentality would kill an undesirable person, you merely render him +harmless. If, later on, it should prove absolutely necessary to remove +him, you hire another man to perform the nasty job. Your sensitive soul +shrinks from vulgar tactics and sordid actions. For the same reason you +don’t run away from danger. Instead, you plan your moves so carefully +in advance that the risk is reduced to the lowest possible minimum, and +flight becomes unnecessary.”</p> + +<p>It was a rather blunt speech, and Cole had spoken so plainly only +because he wished to watch the effect on the doctor. In the end he +was disappointed. <span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">160</span>The expansive beard concealed all outward signs of +emotion; the face was no more expressive than a wooden image. For just +a moment the eyes shone with a cold gleam, but that was all. When Cole +had finished, the bearded lips parted in a pleased smile.</p> + +<p>“Thanks,” murmured Latham. “Too bad we appear to be enemies. I like you +immensely—I really do.”</p> + +<p>He held the door open and Cole went out. As he walked toward the subway +he was almost inclined to share the doctor’s regret that they were +enemies. There was something at once attractive and repellent about +Latham. His subtleties, his cool audacity, and his flashing wits made +him a charming personality, and there was a certain fascination even +about his cold cynicism and conscienceless manner. Cole came away from +the doctor’s house with a spell hanging over him. But, aside from these +things, there were phases of Latham’s character that he could not +understand. Stray remarks, which the doctor had dropped, and certain +telltale gestures and mannerisms lingered in his memory while he rode +downtown.</p> + +<p>“A fascinating riddle and a highly accomplished villain,” was his way +of summing up the doctor’s many-sided personality, as he got out of the +subway and turned toward the Security Building.</p> + +<p>He entered and, key in hand, walked direct to the private door. The +elevator starter gave him an astonished glance, but did not interfere. +The key fitted easily. Cole opened the door and stepped in, then +quickly closed it behind him. He was in <span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">161</span>a narrow cage, with a small +electric bulb at the top. He looked about him in bewilderment, for +there was no sign of any apparatus by which the elevator could be +started. Carlin had told him that there was a peculiar mechanism that +could be operated only by the initiated, but all Cole saw was a dial +with figures along the rim and a knob in the center. It looked like the +combination lock of a safe.</p> + +<p>He twirled the knob back and forth, but without result. He tried +several different combinations on the dial, but the elevator refused +to budge. With ingrained stubbornness he persisted in his efforts, but +in the end he was forced to confess that the task was beyond him. He +was on the point of getting out when a key grated in the lock. A moment +later the door came open, and Miss Brown entered the cage.</p> + +<p>She started slightly as she saw him. Cole looked at her, and his frown +melted. She was simply, but charmingly, attired in a tailor-made suit +of some soft, gray material the name of which was not included in +Cole’s vocabulary.</p> + +<p>“Oh, you came!” she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>“Yes, but I didn’t get very far.” Cole regarded her with a half +humorous, half reproachful glance. Her plain little hat set off +to perfection the lily-white complexion and the hair like ruffled +sunshine. “How did you expect me to manipulate the contraption?”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t really expect you to,” she told him, while she whirled the +knob back and forth a number <span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">162</span>of times. “In fact, I was sure it would +stump you, but the others had their doubts on that point.”</p> + +<p>“I see,” said Cole dryly, as the cage rocketed upward. “If I had +shown that I knew how to operate the mechanism I would have convicted +myself of duplicity, and the suspicions of the others would have been +confirmed. But don’t you see that a man who is clever enough to ferret +out secrets while blindfolded would not betray himself so flagrantly?”</p> + +<p>There was a twinkle of mirth in her deep-blue eyes. “Clever men are +often vain. You might have construed my note as a challenge to your +dexterity. It wasn’t that, of course. It was only a test of your +honesty.”</p> + +<p>“And now you are convinced?”</p> + +<p>“I was practically convinced before, but the others needed proof.”</p> + +<p>“What convinced you?”</p> + +<p>The blue eyes regarded him shrewdly, almost impersonally. Cole was +reminded of a biologist watching a controlled experiment.</p> + +<p>“I am seldom mistaken in matters of that kind,” she said simply.</p> + +<p>The cage stopped. As they got out, Cole abruptly asked the question +that had been uppermost in his mind all the time. “What about Reeves?”</p> + +<p>“Dead, stabbed through the heart. He was breathing his last when we +found him.”</p> + +<p>Cole nodded grimly. Miss Brown’s words had merely confirmed something +of which he had been practically certain. They had gone through the +hidden door in the wall by this time and were now in the corridor. They +passed several men who bowed <span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">163</span>respectfully to Miss Brown and cast hard +glances at Cole. The woman opened a door, and they entered the large +room with the filing cabinets and the glass globe, the room in which +Cole had been the night before.</p> + +<p>At a desk, with iron-gray head bent over a stack of papers, sat Grover +Carlin. The lawyer looked up as they entered, and a faint smile flitted +across his rugged face and tempered the cold gleam in his eyes. “Glad +to see you, Mr. Cole,” he said in measured tones. “I am also pleasantly +surprised. Your abrupt departure, just after the murder last night, +looked pretty bad.”</p> + +<p>“I was rather surprised that you didn’t try to stop me.”</p> + +<p>Carlin grinned apologetically. “No one thought of doing so until it was +too late. Everybody, including myself, were stricken senseless by the +murder. We couldn’t realize that such a thing had happened right here +in our midst. It seemed unbelievable. All we could think was that you +were——”</p> + +<p>“In cahoots with the murderer,” suggested Cole when the lawyer paused. +“Well, I admit it looked strange. That murder was about as nervy a +piece of rascality as I ever heard of. The fellow came here determined +to carry out his purpose or die in the attempt. Doesn’t his reckless +audacity and the ease with which he got into your establishment suggest +something to your mind, Mr. Carlin?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes a number of things. It suggests that he had powerful +influences behind him. The motive isn’t far to seek. The men +responsible for <span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">164</span>the murder feared that Reeves might recover from the +effects of the operation and divulge certain facts which would be to +their detriment. They decided to prevent that by silencing him forever.”</p> + +<p>“What else?” asked Cole, eying the lawyer steadily.</p> + +<p>Carlin gave him a quizzical glance.</p> + +<p>“How do you suppose the fellow got in?” Cole went on. “Where did he +get the duplicate key to the elevator door? How did he get hold of +the combination that controls the mechanism? Who told him how to get +through the wall? How do you explain that, after entering, he walked +straight to the room where Reeves was? As you probably remember, we +heard the cry only a few moments after the green light had flashed, +showing that the murderer knew his way thoroughly.”</p> + +<p>Carlin gazed at him hard and long. “Well?” he asked at length.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps you still suspect me?” asked Cole lightly.</p> + +<p>“No.” The word came a little uncertainly. “I never really suspected +you. I only had certain doubts about you, doubts which were natural +under the circumstances. Your return here this afternoon speaks +volumes. You would scarcely have come back if you had been playing us +false. I feel I owe you an apology.”</p> + +<p>“It’s accepted,” said Cole with a laugh. “But apologies aren’t going to +remedy matters. Mr. Carlin, there’s a traitor among you.”</p> + +<p>Miss Brown, seated near by, caught her breath. The lawyer thrust his +head forward a little. “Impossible,” he said. “There was a traitor +among <span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">165</span>us, as I explained to you, but we got rid of him. For all I know +he may be dead by this time. I am ready to swear to the reliability of +every man on our staff.”</p> + +<p>Cole seemed inclined to argue the point, but he desisted. His eyes +twinkled a little, and he looked as though he were content to let +developments prove the truth of what he had said.</p> + +<p>“There is one thing you haven’t explained, Mr. Cole,” said Miss Brown. +“I am curious to know how you got into the elevator a little while ago. +Where did you get the key?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, the key,” said Cole lightly. “Why, I found it in the murderer’s +pocket.”</p> + +<p>Carlin and Miss Brown looked at him in speechless astonishment.</p> + +<p>“I seem to be telling things backward,” Cole went on. “After I left +here early this morning I gave the fellow a chase and caught him. He’s +a hunchbacked, dried-up wisp of a man, and as evil looking a specimen +of humanity as I ever saw.”</p> + +<p>Carlin blinked his eyes bewilderedly and looked at Cole, as if he had +just discovered some new quality in him.</p> + +<p>“And you—you caught him?” asked Miss Brown. “Where—how?”</p> + +<p>Cole explained, but only very briefly. There was a gleam of sly humor +in his eye. Toward the end of his recital he did a strange thing. He +finished it off with an embellishing touch that was not in strict +accordance with the truth.</p> + +<p>“The best part of it all,” he said in casual tones, “is that I have +the fellow’s confession in black <span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">166</span>and white. Like most of his kind he +showed the yellow streak when he saw the game was up. Just how complete +the confession is I can’t say, but it contains several interesting +facts.”</p> + +<p>“Where is it?” said Carlin excitedly. “Have you got it with you?” He +half rose from his chair, then sat down again.</p> + +<p>“No; it isn’t wise to carry such things on one’s person. No telling +when you’re going to get knocked down and have your pockets picked. The +confession is in a safe place. In due time I shall show it to you.”</p> + +<p>Carlin seemed inclined to ask questions, but Cole’s face showed plainly +that he had said all that he intended to say for the present. The +lawyer got up, walked around the desk and gave the other’s shoulder +a vigorous slap. “You belong here with us,” he declared with blunt +emphasis. “You’re just the man for the job. I was sure of it before; +now I’m doubly certain. You’ve proven your fitness in forty different +ways. Will you accept?”</p> + +<p>Cole’s eyes gleamed wistfully. His smile showed that the proposition +appealed to him. “You aren’t offering me the position just because I +wormed a confession out of the hunchback?” he asked guardedly.</p> + +<p>“By no means. We were ready to offer you the place a week ago, while +you were sniffing around the edges of what you called the Carmody case. +We need you, Cole. Think it over carefully. Consider the opportunities.”</p> + +<p>“I have considered them. I am strongly tempted to accept, especially +since I am out of a job.” <span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">167</span>Cole gave a whimsical little laugh. “I +forgot to tell you that Englebreth gave me my walking papers this +morning. Do you care to take on a man who was fired by his last +employer?”</p> + +<p>“You just bet we do!” Carlin extended his hand, and Cole gripped it +vigorously. “This evening your appointment will be confirmed by the +full board, and afterward we’ll introduce you to the members of the +staff. There’s one matter that’s got to be settled immediately though. +You’ve got a ticklish problem to solve right at the start, Cole. +Something must be done about the body of Reeves.”</p> + +<p>Cole had already thought of that. He realized what a delicate position +The Unknown Seven were in. The murder could not be reported to the +police without jeopardizing the secrecy that, to a great extent, had +been responsible for the organization’s success. Neither would it be +easy to turn the body over to the proper authorities without imperiling +the society’s seclusion. It was a knotty problem, and Cole considered +it from all angles, while Carlin and Miss Brown showed him over the +premises.</p> + +<p>Cole’s eyes grew wider and wider as he was conducted from room to +room. On one side of the hall were the offices with their steel filing +cases, huge nickel-plated safes, desks, typewriters, and even a +rogues’ gallery, which Cole inspected with avid interest. One room was +devoted to finger prints and the Bertillon system of identification. +Adjoining it was a laboratory in which, as Carlin explained, the +latest scientific discoveries were adapted to the requirements of the +detective profession.</p> + +<p>They crossed the hall, and it seemed to Cole that <span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">168</span>he was entering +a different world. This part of the establishment was given over to +clubrooms, but they were more magnificent than any Cole had ever seen. +There was a well-appointed gymnasium; a swimming pool in which clear +water gleamed invitingly in a huge tank of marble; a library containing +all the latest fiction and belles-lettres; a dining room, an art +gallery, a pool and billiard parlor, and various cozy little nooks for +the members.</p> + +<p>“You see, Mr. Cole, we believe in combining pleasure and comfort with +work,” explained Carlin, when the tour of inspection was finished and +they were back in the office from which they had started. “By the way, +dinner will be served at six-thirty. You must stay and dine with us.”</p> + +<p>Cole agreed after a moment’s hesitation. His glance fell on the +telephone at Carlin’s desk, and suddenly he seemed to remember +something.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps you would like to use the telephone,” the lawyer suggested. +“The switchboard is in an office on the tenth floor, and all incoming +and outgoing calls are relayed through it. No chance of a call being +traced, you see.”</p> + +<p>Cole picked up the telephone and gave the operator the number of his +landlady. Carlin and Miss Brown started to withdraw, but Cole assured +them there was nothing personal about the call and asked them to stay.</p> + +<p>“That you, Mrs. Armstrong?” he asked when he had got his connection. +“Mr. Cole speaking. I may not be home till late this evening, and +I wonder if you’d mind running up and giving Toots her milk. Yes, +Toots—T-o-o-t-s. The cat, you <span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">169</span>know. Very good of you. Will you do it +right away, Mrs. Armstrong? I’ll hold the wire till you come back. +Toots wasn’t looking well this morning. Acted as if she had a headache +or something. I’m anxious to know how she is.”</p> + +<p>With the receiver at his ear, Cole waited. Carlin stroked his chin +reflectively. From time to time he gazed in an odd way at the man who +was to direct the activities of The Unknown Seven, and whose sole +concern just now appeared to be an ailing cat. Miss Brown was amused +and took no pains to conceal it.</p> + +<p>Cole was kept waiting a long time. At last he pricked up his ears in a +startled way, as if some surprising news was being told him. He uttered +a few short exclamations, then hung up the receiver and glanced at his +watch.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Carlin,” he said gravely, in a tone so low that the other two +could scarcely hear, “two hours ago I sat in this chair and told you +a lie.” He made a silencing signal with his hand as Miss Brown and +Carlin started to interrupt. “Yes, a lie. What I said about having +wrung a confession from the hunchback wasn’t true, though all the +rest was in strict accordance with the facts. As you may remember, I +mentioned having put the confession in a safe place. From that you +might have inferred that I had hidden it at my home, or placed it in a +safe-deposit box.”</p> + +<p>He was speaking in whispers, as if afraid that an eavesdropper might be +lurking somewhere in the room. The faces of his two listeners showed +stark bewilderment.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">170</span></p> + +<p>“That was two hours ago,” he went on, “and just now my landlady told me +that when she went up to my rooms to feed the cat she found everything +thrown topsy-turvy. The place looked as if a cyclone had struck it.”</p> + +<p>Miss Brown gave a little gasp. Carlin’s pupils contracted in +astonishment. He stared hard at Cole, while a cloud overspread his +face. One arm was stretched out on the desk, and his fingers clenched +and unclenched spasmodically.</p> + +<p>“They didn’t lose any time,” he muttered. “I don’t understand, but you +were right, Cole. There’s a traitor among us.”</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">171</span> +<h2 id="chap_XV">CHAPTER XV</h2> +<div class="subheadc">THE TRAITOR UNMASKED</div> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">WITH his fingers across his lips, Cole enjoined silence. His glance +darted quickly over the floor, the ceiling and the walls. He moved +hither and thither, looking behind desks and filing cases. Finally he +stepped behind Carlin’s desk and gazed speculatively at a panel of +grille work in the wall. He held his hand before it and felt a strong +draft of fresh air. It was obviously a ventilating shaft, and the force +of the current suggested that air was driven into it by fans.</p> + +<p>He whirled round and whispered to Carlin and the girl. “Talk,” he said, +“talk on any subject but the one you’re thinking on. Be as natural as +you can.”</p> + +<p>Carlin showed plainly that he did not understand, but he nodded +obediently. Cole tiptoed to a typewriter desk in the rear, and in one +of the drawers he found a box containing a number of small tools. +Selecting a screw driver, he went back to the air shaft and loosened +several of the screws that held the grilled panel. In a few moments he +could bend it outward, and now he inserted his hand and ran it up and +down the sides of the shaft.</p> + +<p>“Any more of that sauterne left?” he heard Carlin ask the girl.</p> + +<p>“About a dozen bottles, I think.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">172</span></p> + +<p>“We’ll instruct the chef to have it served after the fish course. Just +to celebrate the occasion, you know. Afterward——”</p> + +<p>The lawyer ran on with the dogged air of a soldier obeying orders that +he doesn’t understand; but Cole heard no more. A sudden tensing of his +body hinted that he had verified a suspicion. He had found a small +metal disk attached to the opposite side of the air shaft, and to it +was affixed a wire that extended upward. A serio-comic smile twisted +his lips as he rejoined Carlin and Miss Brown. “Guess what I found,” he +said in a whisper.</p> + +<p>The other two stared.</p> + +<p>“An amplifying disk and a wire that seems to run out on the roof. A +dictaphone in other words. There may be others scattered throughout the +place. My little ruse has shown that these walls have ears.”</p> + +<p>The lawyer was too astounded for words. Miss Brown looked fixedly at +Cole, her lips trembling a little at the corners.</p> + +<p>“Did I hear you say something about sauterne?” asked Cole in his usual +speaking voice, at the same time motioning them to step farther away +from the shaft in which the disk was hidden. “Favorite drink of mine, +though I take only an occasional drop of such things.” Again he lowered +his voice. “To-night I shall get out on the roof and see where the wire +runs to. Carlin, this is additional proof that there is a renegade +in our midst. The man who posted the hunchback on how to get in here +probably installed the dictaphone. It isn’t safe for us to make a +single move until we have singled <span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">173</span>him out and rendered him harmless. +We must attend to that even before we consider what is to be done with +the body of Reeves.”</p> + +<p>Carlin still seemed a trifle dazed. “You are right, of course,” he +said. “We must get rid of the blackguard at once. It is startling to +think that any one in our organization may be the traitor. How are we +going to find him?”</p> + +<p>“Leave that to me.” Cole’s narrowing gaze slanted upward, as if his +thoughts were on the track of an idea. “I have noticed that a man of +that kind nearly always has a flaw in him of some sort. Generally that +flaw is cowardice. That gives us an advantage over him, right at the +start. We’ll play on his cowardice and make him betray himself.”</p> + +<p>The lawyer looked somewhat dubious. “How?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“I haven’t studied out the details yet,” said Cole, but the slow +twinkle in his eye told that the idea was assuming shape. “You sowed +the seed of a plan in my mind when you mentioned sauterne. But don’t +expect anything spectacular. Sometimes simple measures work best. Can +you arrange to have the whole organization here for dinner?”</p> + +<p>The lawyer fingered his chin in a bewildered way. “It could be managed. +Most of them have planned to attend, anyway.”</p> + +<p>“Splendid! Now, Carlin, since I am to take charge of the work here, +it would seem only fitting that everybody should drink my health in +sauterne, wouldn’t it?”</p> + +<p>“Cer—certainly,” stammered Carlin.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">174</span></p> + +<p>“You could propose the toast yourself. I know you will do it +charmingly. And I want you to see to it that everybody is invited to +drink, including the waiters and the kitchen help. You could explain +that the toast is to be a sort of pledge of allegiance.”</p> + +<p>The lawyer looked blinkingly at Cole, searching his face in vain for a +sign that he was jesting.</p> + +<p>“I’m not sure there is enough sauterne to go around,” observed Miss +Brown, who evidently shared Carlin’s stupefaction.</p> + +<p>“Then use smaller glasses,” suggested Cole. “Besides, in an emergency +the wine can be thinned out. I think you said there were a dozen +bottles. That ought to be enough for one round. I can almost taste +that sauterne already.” He smacked his lips as he consulted his watch. +“Carlin, I wonder if you would mind telephoning my landlady, Gramercy +0099, to see if any messages have been received for me. The bright +youngster who is watching Doctor Latham’s house may have been trying to +reach me. In the meantime, Miss Brown, I am going to ask you to come +with me to the dining room. I want to get a general idea of the seating +arrangement.”</p> + +<p>With a long, wondering glance at Cole, the girl conducted him from the +office, while Carlin cleared his husky throat in preparation for the +task assigned him.</p> + +<p>“You are a very deep person, Mr. Cole,” the girl observed, as she led +him into the dining room, where tables were set in horseshoe formation. +“I <span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">175</span>have a suspicion that you are keeping a perfectly gorgeous scheme +all to yourself.”</p> + +<p>Cole smiled thinly, while his glance roved over snow-white napery and +brightly polished silver. At times Miss Brown had a naïveté about her +that he found rather alluring.</p> + +<p>“I’ll take you into the secret in a few moments,” he promised. “One +confidence deserves another, however. How much longer must I go on +calling you Miss Brown?”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you like the name?”</p> + +<p>“I do not. I suspect you invented it on the spur of the moment the +other night. It served well enough for a temporary acquaintanceship, +but now its usefulness is past.”</p> + +<p>“True,” she admitted. “It was an awkward alias, anyhow. How do you like +Merle Brownell?”</p> + +<p>“Much better. One syllable more or less makes a lot of difference at +times. I take it you are the high priestess of The Unknown Seven?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no! I’m only an odd-job expert. My father, who died three years +ago, was the founder of the organization. I have hung around, more +or less, ever since. Most of the time I suspect I am in the way, but +occasionally I manage to make myself useful.”</p> + +<p>Cole regarded her with a look that seemed to say, “You’ll pass.”</p> + +<p>“You promised to take me into your secret,” she reminded him. “Aren’t +you afraid? How do you know that I’m not the traitor, or traitoress?”</p> + +<p>“I know,” said Cole firmly, “but don’t ask me how I know. By the way, +Miss Brownell,” and <span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">176</span>Cole lowered his voice several octaves, “I see the +wineglasses haven’t been placed yet. Don’t you think you had better +speak to the chef about the sauterne?”</p> + +<p>She gave him a puzzled look, then a roguish smile illuminated her +face. “I’m beginning to think the sauterne is the chief ingredient in +that brilliant idea of yours,” she declared, as she left the room. A +few moments later Cole followed, turning toward the laboratory which +Carlin had so proudly shown him. At one wall were several shelves on +which bottles were placed in long rows. After studying the labels, Cole +selected one of the bottles and put it in his pocket.</p> + +<p>Miss Brownell was supervising the placing of the wineglasses when he +returned to the dining room. He stood aside and watched silently until +the task was finished and the waiter had left the room. Then he took +the bottle from his pocket and stepped to the table.</p> + +<p>“Please guard the door,” he told Miss Brownell, speaking in very low +tones. “If any one wants to enter, keep him out on any pretext you +like.”</p> + +<p>She watched him in astonishment while he went to work. The bottle +contained a colorless liquid, and with great care he poured a few drops +into each wineglass.</p> + +<p>“Are you going to poison us?” she asked. There was a secretive air +about Cole that seemed to prohibit talking aloud.</p> + +<p>“No, the stuff’s harmless. Nothing but spirits of hartshorn. It will +mix with the wine, but only a person with a very sensitive tongue will +notice <span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">177</span>the queer taste. Such a person, if there should be one among us +this evening, will notice that the wine has an odd flavor, but that’s +all. He won’t be able to identify the added ingredient. The quantity is +too slight.”</p> + +<p>“That makes everything very clear of course,” remarked Miss Brownell. +“About as clear as mud.”</p> + +<p>Cole went calmly on with his work. “I suppose it has often occurred +to you, Miss Brownell, that the imagination is a great aid to one’s +senses. Tell a person there’s a fire in the next room, and he will +instantly smell smoke, even though he may not have noticed it before.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t see what that has to do with what you are doing.”</p> + +<p>“A very great deal. When these glasses have been filled with wine, a +person, taking a casual sip of the concoction, will not notice the +queer taste. If he is told, after the second or third sip, that he +has drunk poisoned wine, the peculiar taste will become noticeable at +once. Without stopping to try to identify the queer flavor, he will +instantly become convinced that he has been poisoned, especially if the +circumstances are such that he already has reason to fear that some +such thing is going to happen to him. That’s what imagination does to a +person.”</p> + +<p>“Is this some kind of psychological experiment?”</p> + +<p>“In a way.” Cole had reached the last glass and was now putting the +bottle in his pocket. “Incidentally it is interesting to note that a +person with an uneasy conscience always has a lively imagination. Not +only can he spot real dangers a <span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">178</span>mile off, but his guilty conscience +is constantly surrounding him with imaginary ones. It’s a lucky +thing, too. If it wasn’t for such frailties in the human make-up, +we detectives would lose our reputation for achieving brilliant +deductions.”</p> + +<p>Miss Brownell smiled soberly as they walked out. “I think we are +going to have a most interesting dinner,” she murmured. “I hope your +psychological experiment will succeed, Mr. Cole. I must run off now and +powder my nose.”</p> + +<p>Cole slipped back to the laboratory and replaced the bottle. A few +moments later he met Carlin in the corridor. The lawyer told him that +he had called up Cole’s landlady, but no messages had been received for +him.</p> + +<p>“That means Doctor Latham has made no move yet,” said Cole +thoughtfully. “He plays a slow and sure hand.”</p> + +<p>The lawyer nodded. “Your landlady seemed quite distracted over the +robbery,” he announced.</p> + +<p>“She isn’t the only one. I bet Toots is the most distracted female in +the world, just now.” Cole gazed gloomily into space, and then a tall, +broad-shouldered man approached with an easy swagger. Cole’s lips +twisted into a reminiscent smile, as he recognized the surgeon.</p> + +<p>“Hello, Ballinger,” said the lawyer. “Shake hands with Kingdon Cole if +you dare. I wouldn’t blame him if he were to shoot you on sight, but he +has a forgiving disposition. Cole has just agreed to become one of us.”</p> + +<p>“Splendid!” ejaculated the doctor, and the two men shook hands. As +their fingers touched, <span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">179</span>Cole experienced that indescribable something +that comes from contact with a man of strong personal magnetism. +Ballinger’s grip could not have been called energetic, but it +transmitted a subtle electric current.</p> + +<p>“You are tackling a man-size job,” remarked the doctor after Carlin +had withdrawn. “You will have a chance to match your wits against the +infernal cleverness of the astutest rogue in the country. I suppose +Carlin has explained the situation to you?”</p> + +<p>“He has only given me a few hints. There hasn’t been time for detailed +explanations. All I know is that a colossal project of some sort is on +foot, and that The Unknown Seven is trying to put a crimp in it.”</p> + +<p>Ballinger took his arm and led him to the smoking room. He extended +his cigar case, and Cole noticed that his fingers were long, slim, +and finely tapering, the fingers of one having a deft touch, a strong +imagination, and a lively dramatic instinct. Again Cole saw that +Ballinger’s resemblance to Doctor Latham was very slight, extending +only to outward physique. It was the disguise, and the black beard in +particular that had produced the likeness.</p> + +<p>“Too bad about poor Reeves,” murmured Ballinger, as he held a lighted +match in his cupped hands. “His life, however, would have been only a +burden to himself and others, so in one sense it is just as well that +he was shuffled off. For professional reasons I regret his death very +keenly. I had hopes of being able to restore his brain to <span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">180</span>some degree +of normal functioning. If I had succeeded I think he would have told us +a most interesting story, and that, of course, was just what the other +side feared. However, his actions told us a great deal the other night.”</p> + +<p>“When he seemed to recognize Doctor Latham in you?”</p> + +<p>“Exactly. To that extent the experiment was a complete success. It was +Carlin’s idea, and the credit belongs to him. I merely carried out his +suggestions, and I didn’t particularly relish the task.” He chuckled +apologetically. “Well, the murder of Reeves is additional proof of +the fact that we are fighting a crowd of very ingenious and utterly +conscienceless scoundrels. Evidently they are directed by a master +mind, a genius of the kind we often read about, but seldom meet. You +will admit there’s a great deal of fascination about a rascal of that +type, Cole?”</p> + +<p>Cole did not answer, but he remembered the magnetic tug he had felt in +Doctor Latham’s presence.</p> + +<p>“I almost envy you the exciting times you will have tracking this +master mind to his lair,” Ballinger went on. “We know some of the +smaller fry in the crowd, Professor Carmody, for instance, but our +efforts won’t lead anywhere until we have found the directing genius. +And when we have found him, Cole, we will be face to face with an +interesting character. Brilliant, resourceful, unscrupulous, and full +of bewildering subtleties, the kind that kills without hesitation the +moment his plans are interfered with. I dare say you have already +suspected who he is?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">181</span></p> + +<p>Ballinger’s eyes shone with a fine glow of enthusiasm, but it was the +unimpassioned enthusiasm of a scientist who dissects and analyzes.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps,” said Cole guardedly. “Haven’t you?”</p> + +<p>Ballinger smiled queerly, but the opening of the door and the +announcement that dinner was served forestalled a reply. In the +corridor they were parted by a stream of people, and Cole found an +opportunity to speak a few words in Carlin’s ear. The lawyer nodded +bewilderedly, like one receiving instructions which he does not +understand. He knew Cole had a plan of some sort, but he could not make +even a guess as to what it was.</p> + +<p>There were some twenty-five or thirty at the table. Cole found himself +seated between Miss Brownell and Carlin. Inwardly he felt a tingling +sensation, as he contemplated the bombshell he was about to explode +among the diners, but his face showed no sign of it. Now and then he +stole a glance down the two wings of the table. He liked the faces of +the men with whom he was to work. They were an alert, keen-eyed lot, +the kind of men Cole himself would have selected.</p> + +<p>“You are a judge of faces,” whispered Miss Brownell, leaning slightly +toward him. “Who is the traitor?”</p> + +<p>Cole shook his head. That very question had already occurred to him. +There was not one in the gathering who by his looks could be singled +out as the traitor.</p> + +<p>“Whom would you pick?” he whispered back.</p> + +<p>Her glance ran quickly up and down the table. He could see that her +woman’s intuition was at <span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">182</span>work. A queer gleam came into her eyes; her +face hardened for a moment. He tried to trace her glance, but it was +too late.</p> + +<p>“It wouldn’t be fair to tell, would it?” she said evasively. “I may be +wrong, you know.”</p> + +<p>Cole only smiled. As nearly as he had been able to tell, her glance had +rested for an instant somewhere near the center of the left wing of the +table. He scanned the faces of the men seated there, but none of them +impressed him unfavorably, and he wondered what Miss Brownell could +have based her guess on.</p> + +<p>The dinner progressed by easy stages, and the scene which Cole had been +rehearsing in his mind was drawing near. Carlin, seated at his right, +looked nervous, and Miss Brownell’s usually vivacious manner seemed +somewhat dampened. Finally the sauterne was opened and the waiters +filled the glasses. Carlin cleared his throat.</p> + +<p>Noisy applause greeted the lawyer’s announcement that Cole had +accepted the management of The Unknown Seven’s activities. Then Carlin +proposed a toast, and it was drunk standing. Cole watched the faces +of the men as they quaffed their wine. In several of them he saw a +vaguely wondering look, telling him that their senses had registered +an impression so faint that as yet their minds had not grasped it. He +sipped his own wine, and he wondered whether he would have been able to +taste the foreign substance if he had not known it was there.</p> + +<p>When Carlin finished, Cole got to his feet amid renewed handclapping. +Somewhat bluntly <span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">183</span>he thanked them for the ovation, and then he veered +sharply to the subject uppermost in his mind.</p> + +<p>“I wonder,” he said, “how many of you can look me straight in the eye +and tell me that you are loyal to this organization.”</p> + +<p>A breathless hush followed. His very quiet tones had created a profound +impression. In the next instant every pair of eyes in the room was +leveled at him without wavering.</p> + +<p>“It seems to be unanimous,” he observed dryly. “One can lie, however, +with his eyes as well as with his tongue, and I know that one among you +is a liar.”</p> + +<p>Another period of silence followed, and then came a scraping of feet +and exclamations of incredulity. Cole held up a silencing hand. His +eyes were everywhere, noting each shifting expression in the startled +faces before him.</p> + +<p>“One of you has proven false to the organization,” he declared in +short-clipped accents. “I discovered it only a little while ago. I +found positive proof, not only of the treachery, but of the traitor’s +identity as well. He is at this table. He was one of those who only a +few moments ago looked me straight in the eyes. What shall we do with +him?”</p> + +<p>Once more came an electric hush. Cole had spoken quietly, but with an +emphasis that carried conviction. He smiled faintly, as he met the +startled glances of the diners. A slight trace of the foreign substance +in the wine was still lingering on his tongue.</p> + +<p>“What shall we do with him?” he asked again.</p> + +<p>“There’s only one thing to do with a traitor,” <span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">184</span>muttered some one at +the farther end of the table, and the suggestion was followed by a +chorus of approval.</p> + +<p>“And that thing has already been done,” declared Cole with grim +emphasis. “So that it may serve as a warning to others who may be +tempted to betray us, the traitor will die right before our eyes. +Inside one minute the poison that was put into his glass will begin to +take effect.”</p> + +<p>Cole pretended to look at his watch, but his glance was gliding swiftly +over the two long rows of faces. He had spoken rapidly, and yet with a +quiet insistence, putting his astounding announcement into the fewest +possible words. The effect he hoped to produce depended upon a quick +assault on the guilty person’s mental faculties, shocking him off +his balance before he had time to digest the statement. In the acute +tension of the moment, the vague impression that he had received while +sipping his wine would suddenly crystallize, and then, with the fear of +death upon him, he could not help betraying himself.</p> + +<p>At least such was the psychological effect Cole had intended, and he +had been reasonably sure that the test would succeed. Moments passed +while he stood, watch in hand, glancing out of the tail of an eye +at the faces around the table. Sixty seconds passed, and a look of +diffidence crossed his features. Here and there an impatient mutter was +heard. Carlin was looking up at him with an expression of thinly veiled +disappointment. At length Cole snapped the watch shut. He smiled rather +sheepishly.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">185</span></p> + +<p>“The trick didn’t work,” he said disgustedly. “Yes, I might as well +admit it was only a trick. The traitor was too clever to betray +himself.” With that he sat down, well aware that he had made an +unfavorable impression.</p> + +<p>“It was too thin, Cole,” whispered Carlin in his ear. “Too bad you +didn’t consult me beforehand.”</p> + +<p>Cole nodded dejectedly. Then he felt Miss Brownell’s gaze on his face. +He turned and saw a knowing twinkle in her eyes.</p> + +<p>“It was very clever, Mr. Cole,” she whispered. But for all that her +face indicated she might have given him only a consoling platitude. +“You saw, of course?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I saw enough.” The sheepish grin still lingered on Cole’s lips. +“And you guessed right. The traitor is sitting near the center of the +left wing of the table. Doctor Ballinger is a very astute rascal. It +took him only a fraction of a second to see through my little bluff. He +is smiling behind his palm this very moment. We’ll just let him keep on +smiling for a while, eh, Miss Brownell?”</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">186</span> +<h2 id="chap_XVI">CHAPTER XVI</h2> +<div class="subheadc">GOLD</div> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">AFTER dinner Cole looked the picture of a man whose faith in himself +has received a staggering blow. He seemed to take the outcome of his +ruse very much to heart. He moved gloomily among the members of the +organization, getting personally acquainted with a number of the men +on his staff, and all the while he appeared to be making valiant, but +not very successful, efforts to shake off his depression. Carlin did +his best to gloss over the apparent frustration of the scheme, but Cole +proved a hard man to console.</p> + +<p>Doctor Ballinger approached him after he had retired into a corner, +and gave him a vigorous slap on the shoulder. “Don’t take it so hard, +old man,” he said cheerily. “Know just exactly how you feel. It’s +embarrassing to turn up a flivver right at the start, but don’t you +mind. Better luck next time. Have a smoke.”</p> + +<p>“Thanks,” said Cole dejectedly, as he helped himself to a cigar from +the doctor’s case. “What hurts me most is that I know I was right. +Nothing is so humiliating to a man as to be sure of his facts and not +be able to prove them. I know positively that there’s a black sheep in +this fold. If I had worked the scheme properly——”</p> + +<p>“Tut, tut!” interrupted Ballinger. “Your scheme was all right in +principle. You were simply out <span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">187</span>of luck, that’s all. The traitor, if +you’re right in the assumption that there is such a creature among us, +is probably a very slick customer. No doubt you had him scared stiff +for a moment, but his emotional reaction didn’t last long enough for +him to betray himself. He assumed that you were only bluffing. At any +rate he saw that, having already drained his glass, nothing could be +gained by making a show of himself. In other words his mind outstripped +his emotions, and that’s where your psychology fell down. No matter! +You’ll get him next time.”</p> + +<p>Cole walked away, a faint twitching at the corners of his lips. In +the main Doctor Ballinger’s analysis had been correct. He had only +forgotten to mention one little detail. Just as the traitor’s mind +had outstripped his emotions, so had Cole’s alert glance outstripped +both. For just an instant Ballinger had shown all the symptoms of acute +terror. He had shaken them off with superb self-control, but not before +Cole’s eye had registered his momentary confusion.</p> + +<p>The revelation that Ballinger was the traitor had given Cole a shock +at first. The doctor was one of the last men in the organization whom +he would have suspected of treachery. Having found him out, Cole saw +no reason for apprising the doctor of the fact. He preferred to let +Ballinger lull himself into a false security until he should show his +hand more plainly. Neither did it seem advisable to Cole to take the +other members into his confidence in regard to his discovery. It would +be hard to keep a secret among so many, and the more hotheaded <span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">188</span>ones +among them would probably demand drastic action.</p> + +<p>As inconspicuously as he could, Cole left the others and withdrew to +the room that had been pointed out to him as his private office. It was +small and comfortable and devoid of the drabness that characterizes +the workroom of the average executive. There was a vase containing red +roses on the desk, and he noticed that the pictures on the wall had +been carefully chosen. He stretched himself out in the swivel chair and +rocked in an experimental way. His glance fell on three white buttons +affixed to the side of the desk. He pushed the one nearest him, just to +see what would happen.</p> + +<p>The door opened, and in strode the biggest negro Cole has ever seen.</p> + +<p>“Who are you?” he inquired.</p> + +<p>“Sambo, sah.”</p> + +<p>“And what’s your job, Sambo?”</p> + +<p>“Just now mah bussiness is to answer dese heay bells, sah. Dat ain’t +mah reg’lar job, though, but Rufus is done laid up in the hosspittle, +and I’se takin’ his place.”</p> + +<p>“What happened to Rufus? Sick?”</p> + +<p>“Yas, sah. Mighty sick, sah.” Sambo grinned expansively. “You ought to +know, boss, ’cause you made him sick yusself. Dat was an a’ful wallop +you handed Rufus, sah.”</p> + +<p>Cole smiled reminiscently, as he recalled one of the numerous +experiences that had enlivened his first visit to the establishment of +The Unknown Seven.</p> + +<p>“Too bad about Rufus,” he remarked. “Now, <span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">189</span>Sambo, I want you to find +Mr. McKendrick and ask him to come here at once.”</p> + +<p>“Yas, sah.” With a profound bow Sambo waddled out.</p> + +<p>McKendrick, one of the young operatives with whom Cole had chatted +since the dinner, appeared after a brief wait. He had a clear eye, a +whimsical expression about the mouth that had appealed to Cole on first +sight, and a firmly molded chin.</p> + +<p>“Go into the main office,” Cole directed. “You will find a dictaphone +in the ventilator shaft. The wire apparently runs out on the roof. +Trace it to the other end, then report to me.”</p> + +<p>“Very well, sir.” As McKendrick walked out, Cole noticed with approval +the easy swing to his shoulders. Once more he touched the nearest +button, and Sambo appeared almost instantly.</p> + +<p>“Find Sloane and tell him I want him,” Cole directed.</p> + +<p>Sloane entered in a few moments. With his keen intellectual features +and shell-rimmed spectacles he looked a good deal like a college +professor.</p> + +<p>“Sloane,” began Cole, “I want you to go to the block in which Doctor +Latham resides. Somewhere in the neighborhood, in a basement entrance +across the street, perhaps, you’ll find a young chap of dilapidated +appearance who answers to the name of Tony Pinto. He’s been watching +the doctor’s house for the past twenty-four hours and must be sadly in +need of food and sleep. Tell him I have sent you to relieve him.”</p> + +<p>“I understand perfectly, sir.”</p> + +<p>Cole gave him a few more instructions, and then <span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">190</span>Sloane withdrew. Again +Cole pressed the button, this time to summon a man whom he instructed +to make a thorough search all over the establishment for hidden disks +and wires. When the man had gone, Cole leaned back in his chair and +pondered. He had set the machinery in motion, but the hardest task he +had reserved for himself. Something had to be done very soon about the +body of Reeves. What to do with it was a problem that would demand all +his resourcefulness. Too, a watch must be kept over Doctor Ballinger, +and Cole did not like to delegate that business to any one else. He +expected to learn a great deal from the unsuspecting doctor’s movements +during the next twenty-four hours.</p> + +<p>He was deep in thought when a knock sounded on the door. In response to +his rather brusque “Come in,” Miss Brownell entered.</p> + +<p>“I’ve been thinking,” she announced.</p> + +<p>“So I see,” said Cole, placing a chair for her. Miss Brownell, he +observed, was one of the few women whom he had met who could wear a +thoughtful frown becomingly. Where another woman’s forehead would have +wrinkled, hers merely rippled.</p> + +<p>“You have been doing a lot of thinking yourself,” she remarked, +regarding him with that curious impersonal glance of hers.</p> + +<p>“Yes, but mostly in the dark,” Cole admitted. “I’m pretty much in the +same fix as the man who walks into a theater in the middle of the +second act. The only thing that’s clear so far is that the principal +actors in this drama seem to be doctors.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">191</span></p> + +<p>“You refer to Latham and Ballinger, of course. There is still another +doctor involved.”</p> + +<p>“Still another? Who is he?”</p> + +<p>“In a sense he is the real instigator of the plot, although he died one +hundred and thirty-eight years ago.”</p> + +<p>Cole blinked bewilderedly. “Sounds rather ghostly.”</p> + +<p>“His name was James Price, an English physician of high repute, who +discovered a method of transforming baser metals into gold. You can +read up on him in history or the biographical encyclopedias, if you +like. He wrote a book entitled ‘An Account of Some Experiments,’ but +it has been out of print a long time and copies are hard to obtain. +Professor Carmody owns one of the few still in existence.”</p> + +<p>“Oh!” said Cole, elevating his brows. “So that’s what the mystery is +about? But you don’t mean to tell me that sane men like Latham and +Ballinger are dabbling in the exploded myth of alchemy?”</p> + +<p>“I do. And that myth, by the way, seems to die very hard, Mr. Cole. +It’s been exploded and reëxploded since the dawn of history, and yet it +keeps bobbing up every now and then.”</p> + +<p>Cole gave a little impatient shrug. “It’s rubbish,” he declared. “I +have managed to forget most of the things I learned at school, but I +seem to recall that modern science has absolutely established the fact +that one element cannot be transformed into another.”</p> + +<p>She looked at him amusedly. “We women always smile when you men speak +of absolute facts. The <span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">192</span>phrase is so delightfully characteristic of +the sterner sex. And the world has moved since you went to school, +Mr. Cole. Science has hedged and quibbled and reversed itself a good +many times on the subject of the transformation of metals. It wasn’t +so very long ago that some one discovered that radium can be produced +from helium, or was it the other way round? Anyway, right there is an +instance of the transformation of one element into another.”</p> + +<p>Cole opened his lips to speak, but seemed unable to find the right +words.</p> + +<p>“I was telling you about James Price,” Miss Brownell went on. “He +claimed to have discovered a method whereby he could transform sixty +parts of mercury into one part of gold. He was rather secretive about +his discovery and hedged it about with a lot of mystic hocus-pocus. +About all that is definitely known is that a mysterious red powder +figured prominently in the process. The red powder was mixed with +mercury and fluid borax, and the concoction was then put in a crucible +and stirred with an iron rod. The result was gold.”</p> + +<p>“The iron rod must have been a magic scepter,” suggested Cole dryly.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps; anyway the Royal Society of England got interested in Price’s +experiments and made an investigation. A committee of England’s +foremost scientists went to his laboratory, firmly expecting to expose +Price as a faker or lunatic. I can imagine the long, bewhiskered faces +of those learned old fogies when they put the gold through an assaying +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">193</span>process and found that it proved genuine in every respect.”</p> + +<p>Cole’s pupils dilated a trifle, but he looked still dubious.</p> + +<p>“What I have told you is a matter of history, amply documented and +supported by incontrovertible evidence,” declared Miss Brownell. “There +can be no doubt but that Price produced a form of gold that proved +genuine on assay. I am now coming to the strangest part of the story. +Having solved this problem, that has tantalized scientific minds since +the beginning of history, Price turned a sort of mental somersault. +Just what happened to him has never become definitely known. Some +still insist that he was a faker, despite the tests that were made. +Others believe that his mind collapsed under the strain, and that he +went insane. That seems to be nature’s way of punishing those who peep +behind the curtain of the unknown, and Price was neither the first nor +the last to go mad on the subject of gold. Still others think that +gold became an obsession with him, a sort of monomania, and that he +could not endure the thought of sharing his discovery with others. Then +there are those who cling to the theory that his production of gold was +nothing but an accident.”</p> + +<p>“What happened?” asked Cole.</p> + +<p>“The committee of scientists wanted to learn Price’s formula and asked +him to repeat the experiment in their presence. Price refused on the +pretext that his supply of red powders was exhausted. Shortly afterward +he committed suicide by drinking laurel water. It has been generally +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">194</span>supposed that his secret died with him. His book is somewhat vague +in regard to the composition of the red powders. Repeated attempts +have been made to learn exactly what they consisted of, but without +success. Last year, however, Professor Carmody returned from abroad +after browsing in the libraries of the Old World for many months. He +brought back with him a number of faded and forgotten manuscripts, said +to be in Doctor Price’s handwriting. Where he found them, and how he +got possession of them we don’t know, but we do know that they gave him +a clew to the secret which Price guarded so jealously.”</p> + +<p>“How do you know?” demanded Cole.</p> + +<p>“Our organization has eyes and ears everywhere. However, it was mostly +through accident that we learned what was on foot. I shan’t bore you +with the details. Carmody saw a chance to become enormously rich by +manufacturing gold on a large scale, using Doctor Price’s formula. But +he needed money to swing the enterprise, and so he guardedly approached +a number of wealthy men with a scheme for multiplying their fortunes +many times. Besides he knew that he lacked the executive ability +required to engineer a project of such magnitude. He talked to Malcolm +Reeves so engagingly that Reeves was smitten with the gold fever and +supplied a great portion of the cash that he needed. No doubt he +enlisted the assistance of other rich men in a similar manner. The lure +of gold is a terrible thing, Mr. Cole.”</p> + +<p>“A curse,” said Cole. “But what about Latham?”</p> + +<p>“Latham is an extremely clever and very versatile <span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">195</span>man. Though he +practices medicine he has dabbled in various sciences. Perhaps +Carmody needed his assistance in solving some of the problems that he +encountered in working out Price’s formula. However that may be, we +know he has been very close to Professor Carmody for several weeks.”</p> + +<p>“Then you think Carmody is the moving spirit in the enterprise?”</p> + +<p>“No; Carmody merely supplied the formula and his scientific knowledge. +He is a small man, physically and mentally, with a sharp, but narrow, +intellect, and he is deficient in the qualities required to direct an +enterprise of this sort. Knowing his shortcomings, he was willing to +put the management of the project into stronger hands than his own.”</p> + +<p>“Latham’s, for instance?” asked Cole.</p> + +<p>“Or Ballinger’s. Both are very shrewd and energetic men, though I +hadn’t thought of Ballinger in that connection until to-night. It is +your job to find the master mind that is directing the operations of +this gold-mad crowd, Mr. Cole. We know that they are already producing +gold, or a substitute for gold, on a very large scale.”</p> + +<p>“Where?” inquired Cole quickly.</p> + +<p>“That’s another thing for you to find out. In some secluded spot in New +York City or its environs there is a large and fully equipped plant. +From snatches of conversation which we have overheard we know that it +exists, but we haven’t been able to locate it. We also know that the +conspirators feel confident that their product will stand every test, +that it resembles natural gold in every respect. In order to eliminate +all risk, however, they have <span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">196</span>decided to hold the gold in storage until +the desired quantity has been manufactured. You can imagine what will +happen when a golden flood is suddenly released and poured out over the +country.”</p> + +<p>“A few men will become enormously rich over night, and the monetary +system will be utterly disorganized. I suppose the ultimate result will +be the worst panic the world has ever seen.”</p> + +<p>“That’s exactly what Mr. Carlin and the others think,” declared Miss +Brownell.</p> + +<p>They sat silent for a time, neither looking at the other. Their minds +were stunned by the contemplation of the golden havoc which their +imagination pictured. Cole recalled the look of insane ecstasy which +he had seen in Malcolm Reeves’ face. The words, “Pretty yellow,” which +the insane man mumbled, suddenly assumed a vivid significance. He shook +himself a little.</p> + +<p>“I suppose Reeves had a falling out with the others,” he remarked. +“That’s why they first destroyed his mind and afterward killed him.”</p> + +<p>“Presumably.” Her eyes looked a little dim, as if they had gazed too +long upon a dazzling vision. “It was about Reeves I was thinking +just before I walked in here and disturbed you. I was wondering why +Ballinger didn’t commit the murder. He had free access to the place and +nobody had any suspicions against him. Why was it necessary to have the +hunchback sneak in here and do it?”</p> + +<p>“I think the answer to that question is fairly clear.” Cole’s smile +seemed to say that women, even the cleverest of them, were rather +simple-minded at times. “The job had to be done by an outsider <span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">197</span>in +order to conceal the fact that the conspirators had an associate in +your midst.”</p> + +<p>“But they didn’t conceal it. The ease with which the hunchback got in +and out proved clearly that he was assisted by some one on the inside.”</p> + +<p>“That’s so,” admitted Cole, somewhat abashed. “Well, then it’s quite +likely that Ballinger balked at the job. Murder is pretty nasty +business. It is a coarser crime than depriving a man of his reason. +Many criminals of the intellectual type shrink from it.”</p> + +<p>“Maybe that was the way of it. There’s another thing that has been +troubling me lately. Who do you think performed the operation on +Reeves?”</p> + +<p>Cole stared at her for an instant. “It seems to be pretty well +established that Doctor Latham was the man.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I know that’s what they all seem to think. Their reason is that +Reeves seemed to recognize Ballinger when he was made up to resemble +Latham.”</p> + +<p>“It was more than recognition. The sight of Ballinger made up as Latham +fairly terrified the poor man. I’ll never forget how he looked.”</p> + +<p>“But isn’t that a flimsy reason for supposing that Latham performed the +operation?”</p> + +<p>Cole leaned out of his chair and regarded her closely, as if wondering +whether her intuition was once more at work. “Can you imagine any other +explanation for the way Reeves acted that night?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; can’t you?”</p> + +<p>Cole shook his head ponderously.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">198</span></p> + +<p>“Just think about it,” she said, smiling faintly; then she rose and +walked out of the room.</p> + +<p>For a long time Cole sat very still, with a thoughtful pucker across +his forehead. Once, from force of habit, he reached for his pipe, +frowning when he realized it wasn’t there. Now and then he bent a +quizzical gaze on the chair which Miss Brownell had vacated.</p> + +<p>“What the deuce did she mean?” he mumbled. “What else is there to——”</p> + +<p>With a jerky motion he sat erect in his chair. He gave the desk in +front of him a vigorous thump.</p> + +<p>“By Jove, she wins!” he declared. “There is another explanation. It’s +beginning to look as though——” He checked himself, scowling. “But that +only muddles the situation. What’s the good of an explanation that +doesn’t explain. But I suppose a woman can’t see it that way. They’re +all alike, from Toots down.”</p> + +<p>He shrugged as if to banish unprofitable speculations. He suddenly +remembered that there had been weighty things on his mind when Miss +Brownell interrupted his thoughts. He had given several orders to the +men, and he had been studying what to do with the body of Reeves, and +how he might make the most of his discovery that Doctor Ballinger was +the traitor. He jumped from the chair as the physician’s name ran +through his mind. For half an hour or more he had given not a single +thought to Ballinger. He hurried from the office and crossed the +corridor, but a glance into the smoking room reassured him. Ballinger +was sprawled out leisurely in an armchair, evidently in <span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">199</span>the midst of +an anecdote which he seemed to be relating with great gusto to his +companion.</p> + +<p>Cole went farther down the corridor and rapped on the door to Miss +Brownell’s private room. “Wish you would keep an eye on Ballinger for a +while,” he whispered when she opened. She lifted her brows in a knowing +way and nodded. In the main office he found Carlin bent over a stack of +papers. The man seemed a veritable dynamo of energy.</p> + +<p>“I’ve been thinking about Reeves,” he said.</p> + +<p>Carlin looked up and took an obese cigar from his mouth. “What do you +suggest?”</p> + +<p>“That we obey the spirit of the law and blink the letter. The ends of +justice will be met if the murderer is convicted and punished. It won’t +be necessary to drag all the embarrassing details into light.”</p> + +<p>“How can it be avoided?”</p> + +<p>“I have a plan, but, before I go any farther, I would like to see the +body.”</p> + +<p>The lawyer got up. “I would have shown it to you when I took you over +the place, but Miss Brownell was with us then, and you know how women +are about such things.”</p> + +<p>He led the way from the room, and they went to the end of the corridor. +There Carlin opened a door, and they stepped in. It was dark, and Cole +could see nothing. He heard a slight scraping sound, as the lawyer ran +his hand over the wall in search of a switch. Then a light flashed on. +Carlin raised an arm and pointed.</p> + +<p>“There,” he said a trifle thickly, indicating a <span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">200</span>shape spread out on a +cot at the farther side of the room.</p> + +<p>Cole walked up to the cot and looked down at the dead man. He jerked +back a little as his glance fell on the lifeless face. Then he bent +over the body and gazed fixedly into the rigid features. Finally he +stood up and turned to Carlin, who had remained behind.</p> + +<p>“When did you last see the body?” he inquired, and his voice sounded a +trifle husky.</p> + +<p>“Why, I think it was this morning. Yes, that was it, about ten o’clock +this morning. Why do you ask?”</p> + +<p>“Because—— But see for yourself.”</p> + +<p>With a wondering glance at the detective, Carlin crossed the floor. He +looked down at the motionless figure, and suddenly he shrank back a +step. A husky exclamation sounded in his throat, then he slowly raised +his eyes, and for a long moment the two men stared blankly at each +other.</p> + +<p>“It—it isn’t Reeves!” stammered the lawyer.</p> + +<p>“No—it isn’t Reeves!” echoed Cole.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">201</span> +<h2 id="chap_XVII">CHAPTER XVII</h2> +<div class="subheadc">IN ROOM 2512</div> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">COLE had recognized the dead man at a glance.</p> + +<p>It was McKendrick, the young operative whom he had instructed to trace +down the dictaphone wire. That had been only an hour ago, and already +death had blotted out the whimsical expression about the mouth that had +attracted Cole to him from the first.</p> + +<p>“Shot through the head,” muttered Cole, noticing a crimson stain just +above the left temple. “He hasn’t been dead more than fifteen or twenty +minutes.”</p> + +<p>He turned and looked out through the crack of the open door. A laugh +sounded in the direction of the smoking room. Perhaps Doctor Ballinger +had just told another funny story. Cole closed the door.</p> + +<p>“This shows there are no limits to the rascality of those blackguards,” +said the lawyer. “But I don’t see why they should kill McKendrick.”</p> + +<p>Cole explained the errand on which he had dispatched the young +detective. “No doubt McKendrick made an important discovery of some +kind,” he added. “That’s probably why he was killed. He must have been +overpowered, either while getting his facts or on his way back here to +report. Probably the latter; that would explain why the body was taken +here. The murderer wanted to conceal his crime as long as possible, and +for a <span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">202</span>temporary hiding place this room served as well as any other. We +must find out whether Ballinger has been absent from the smoking room +during the last hour or so.”</p> + +<p>The lawyer seemed dazed. “But the other body? What happened to it?”</p> + +<p>“You are sure it was here this morning?”</p> + +<p>“Positive.”</p> + +<p>“Could any one have taken it down the private elevator without being +seen?”</p> + +<p>“Impossible. Even if such a thing could be done, which is unthinkable, +it is a ticklish job to transport a body through the streets. It is not +yet midnight.”</p> + +<p>“Is there any other exit?”</p> + +<p>“Only the stairs leading to the roof.”</p> + +<p>“Then it is a safe bet that the body of Reeves was taken out that way. +From the roof it could have been slipped down a fire escape in the +rear, and from there—Heaven only knows!”</p> + +<p>“But why should such a thing be done? What object could any one have in +doing it?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know, Carlin. I can only make a hazy guess. Being a lawyer +you know better than I do that, with the body missing, it will be +hard to prove the murder of Reeves. I believe the law covering murder +cases provides that, when the <i>corpus delicti</i> cannot be proven, +the commission of the crime must be established by direct, not +circumstantial, evidence. Isn’t that correct?”</p> + +<p>“Substantially, yes.”</p> + +<p>“And, as I understand it, nobody saw the crime committed. Consequently +there can be no direct <span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">203</span>testimony in regard to the murder. It appears +that the men we are fighting are playing a very shrewd game.”</p> + +<p>The lawyer tried to pull himself together. “But isn’t it your idea that +the men who instigated the murder of Reeves are also responsible for +McKendrick’s death?”</p> + +<p>“Presumably?”</p> + +<p>“Then why, after going to all that trouble to cover up the first crime, +did they leave the evidence of the second murder in plain sight?”</p> + +<p>“Looks a bit contradictory, doesn’t it?” Cole squinted abstractedly at +the form on the cot. It seemed as though the murderers of McKendrick, +in placing the body in the identical spot where that of Reeves had +lain, had gone out of their way to add a spectacular touch to their +crime. “But you may be sure of one thing,” he added. “They had good +reasons for doing what they did. There isn’t any doubt——”</p> + +<p>He stopped short, and Carlin gave him a puzzled look.</p> + +<p>“Yes, that must be it,” Cole went on in an undertone. “The reason for +what they did is to be found in the one thing that differentiates the +murder of Reeves from that of McKendrick.”</p> + +<p>“And what’s that?”</p> + +<p>“Reeves was operated upon before he was murdered; McKendrick was not.”</p> + +<p>Carlin seemed unable to follow this line of reasoning.</p> + +<p>“If there should be an autopsy,” Cole explained, “it might be +discovered that an atrocious operation <span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">204</span>had been performed on Reeves +before his death. Such an operation could have been performed only by a +skilled surgeon. It would be deduced that the operation and the murder +were perpetrated by the same parties. That would reduce the range of +suspicion down to one class of individuals, surgeons. So, you see, the +body of Reeves constituted a clew to the identity of his murderers.”</p> + +<p>Carlin gave him an admiring glance. “First rate!” he applauded. “I’m +glad you are doing the heavy thinking for us.”</p> + +<p>“You would have seen it yourself if you hadn’t been upset to-night,” +said Cole modestly. “By the way, it’s just as well not to let the news +of this fresh outrage get out among the men at present. Wish you would +show me the stairs to the roof.”</p> + +<p>They left the room, and the lawyer locked the door. A short distance +down the corridor they met Miss Brownell, and Cole recalled that he had +asked her to keep an eye on the physician. Her lips tightened as he +briefly whispered what had happened.</p> + +<p>“Do you know whether Ballinger was absent from the smoking room for any +length of time during the last hour and a half?” he added.</p> + +<p>“He went out for cigars,” said Miss Brownell. “He explained that his +case was empty, and he smokes only his special brand. When he returned +he accounted for his long absence by saying that most of the cigar +stores in the neighborhood were closed.”</p> + +<p>“That explanation is worthy of the doctor,” said Cole. “It’s plausible +and yet simple. A more involved <span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">205</span>one might have got him into +difficulties, if he should have been checked up on it afterward. Please +watch him, Miss Brownell. If by any chance he should leave, have one of +the men follow him. Now, Carlin.”</p> + +<p>The lawyer and Cole stepped into the main office. Suddenly Cole seemed +to recall something. He went to the ventilator shaft which contained +the dictaphone that had cost McKendrick his life. He touched the disk, +and a low mutter escaped him as he found that the wire had been cut. +About a foot and a half of it was dangling from the disk. He turned and +told Carlin what he had discovered.</p> + +<p>“Something made them suspicious,” he added. “They cut the wire so we +wouldn’t be able to trace it.”</p> + +<p>“They did that after murdering McKendrick,” suggested the lawyer.</p> + +<p>“Without a doubt. McKendrick, if he were alive, could probably tell us +where the wire terminated. Now we will have a look at the roof.”</p> + +<p>But the door opened just then, and the man who entered was the +operative whom Cole had instructed to search the establishment for +hidden dictaphones. He reported that he had found four in as many +different rooms, but in each instance the wires had been cut. Cole +thanked him and dismissed him.</p> + +<p>“It’s a safe bet that all those wires were cut within the last hour or +so,” he told the lawyer.</p> + +<p>Carlin led him to the farther end of the office. There he opened a door +and indicated a steep flight of stairs. He was about to proceed up the +stairs, but Cole held him back.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">206</span></p> + +<p>“Wait, Carlin.” Cole took an electric flash light from his pocket and +turned the gleam on the steps. They looked as if they had not been +swept in a long while. He stooped low to examine a number of marks in +the thick layer of dust. Drawing a magnifying lens from his pocket +and slowly moving the electric torch up and down, he made a careful +inspection of the lower steps.</p> + +<p>“Two sets of footprints,” he declared. “One set is fairly large and +broad-toed, a number nine and a half shoe, I should say. The other +is a size and a half smaller, also narrower. This tends to show that +McKendrick was followed when he came down from the roof.”</p> + +<p>“Why do you suppose he was permitted to leave the roof?” inquired the +lawyer.</p> + +<p>“Because the murderer couldn’t aim in the dark. He wanted to make a +sure job of it. Probably McKendrick didn’t know he was followed down +the stairs. Likely as not the shot wasn’t fired until he got down to +the main office. It’s even possible the murder wasn’t committed until +he was out in the corridor. That would explain why the murderer chose +the room at the end of the hall as a temporary hiding place for the +body. If the shooting took place in the corridor, he had to drag or +carry it only a few steps.”</p> + +<p>Cole pocketed his flash and lens, and they started up the stairs.</p> + +<p>“But wouldn’t the shot have been heard?” asked Carlin.</p> + +<p>“Not if the weapon was equipped with a silencer. <span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">207</span>The smell of the +burned powder was probably sucked up very quickly by the automatic +ventilators.”</p> + +<p>Carlin opened a trapdoor overhead, and they stepped out on the roof. Up +there all was wind and gloom. Their footsteps creaked dismally against +the gritty surface. All around them loomed the ghostly shapes of tall +buildings. Masses of clouds hung scowling over their heads, and there +was a suspicion of moisture in the air.</p> + +<p>Cole stepped to the fire escape in the rear, the lawyer following. They +looked down over the parapet into a wide court flanked by murky walls. +“Yes,” said Carlin, more to himself than to his companion, “the body of +Reeves was probably carried down this fire escape. It could have been +done.”</p> + +<p>Cole nodded. “I wonder,” he said abstractedly, “how far down it was +carried?”</p> + +<p>“Have you any reason for supposing that it wasn’t carried clear down to +the ground?”</p> + +<p>“No, only a hunch, and most hunches are ridiculous. They go contrary to +facts and logic. But just now I am more interested in what happened to +McKendrick. He must have discovered something very important to warrant +the scoundrels killing him. I wonder what it could have been.”</p> + +<p>“The other end of the wire, of course.”</p> + +<p>“Something more than that, I think.” Cole gazed down the long stretch +of flights and landings that composed the fire escape. “Criminals of +that type never kill without good cause. Not because they shrink from +murder on moral or humanitarian grounds, but because it is dangerous +and inexpedient. <span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">208</span>McKendrick must have discovered something that—— By +the way, Carlin, I suppose The Unknown Seven controls the renting of +offices in this building? You told me once that it is property of the +organization.”</p> + +<p>“It is, but the members individually have nothing to do with the +management of the building. That is handled through a separate +corporation. Why do you ask?”</p> + +<p>“No particular reason. Those infernal hunches are bothering me more +than usual to-night. Suppose you wait here while I investigate.”</p> + +<p>Before the lawyer could answer, Cole had flung himself over the parapet +and was gliding down the fire escape with the agility of a chimpanzee. +On the first landing he stopped and once more took out his electric +flash and magnifying lens. Then he turned to the window and carefully +examined the frame in the neighborhood of the fastenings. Tiny marks, +that had a fresh appearance, told him they had been tampered with not +so long ago. McKendrick, following the winding course of the dictaphone +wire, had probably passed through this same window.</p> + +<p>In a few moments Cole was inside. Before him stretched a long hall with +doors on either side; but the one to his left was the only one that +interested him. He looked for a moment at the numerals 2512 and the +lettering on the frosted pane. Once before in the past twelve hours the +same sign had confronted him. While tracing Englebreth’s movements in +the early afternoon Cole had come to this <span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">209</span>same door, and then he had +turned back in the belief that nothing could be gained by going farther.</p> + +<p>“Bureau of Civic Research,” he read, wondering whether McKendrick had +followed the course of the wire through this same door. Cole had no +particular reason for thinking so, for at least twenty other doors +opened into the same hall. Yet, in view of Englebreth’s apparent +familiarity with Cole’s movements during the past few days, he could +not help wondering. If the dictaphone wire had extended into suite +2512, then the source of Englebreth’s information was clear.</p> + +<p>But the theory explained nothing else, and Cole had no proof that the +wire had entered the office of the Bureau of Civic Research. His only +clew was the scratches on the window frame, and they merely indicated +that McKendrick had been on this floor. For all Cole knew, the young +operative might have continued his search farther down.</p> + +<p>Yet the door continued to tantalize him. With a glance over his +shoulder to see if perchance a watchman was near, he tried the knob. +As he had expected, the door was locked, but he stooped and looked +closely at the little circle of brass that formed the outer portion +of the spring lock. The hall light was dim, so he once more took out +his electric flash. Close to the center of the circle, just beside +the keyhole, he saw a slight scratch. It was almost certain now that +McKendrick had picked the lock and passed through the door.</p> + +<p>From his pocket Cole drew a bunch of carefully selected keys. Soon the +door was open, and he walked in and quickly closed it behind him. Then +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">210</span>he took out his flash, not thinking it safe to turn on the light, and +made a swift inspection of the premises.</p> + +<p>There were two rooms, a larger and a smaller one. After a glance over +the floor and walls, Cole’s face fell. The thing which he had vaguely +and without much reason expected to find was not there. It was just +an ordinary suite of offices, containing the ordinary set of office +furniture. A glance into the filing cabinets left him in no doubt as to +the bona-fide character of the Bureau of Civic Research.</p> + +<p>On one of the desks in the inner office were several typewritten +letters. At the top of each sheet were printed the name of the concern +and a list of its officers, and he noticed that Englebreth was +mentioned as one of the honorary vice presidents. The letters had, in +fact, been dictated by Englebreth, for in the lower left-hand corner +of each one were the initials HE-MS. No doubt he had dictated them +that afternoon and expected to sign them later. A glance told Cole +that they pertained to political matters and dealt in detail with the +availability of a certain candidate for alderman.</p> + +<p>He put the letters down. They confirmed a theory that he had formed +that afternoon that the Bureau of Civic Research was a hobby of +Englebreth’s. Like many another rich man, his former client presumably +felt the need of justifying his existence in some way. Cole felt +satisfied on that point, but there were other doubts in his mind. +It was just possible that the rooms of the bureau were being used +clandestinely by persons who were in the habit of sneaking in there +at night. Being close <span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">211</span>to the fire escape they were within easy +reach of the headquarters of The Unknown Seven. The guess was rather +far-fetched, but it seemed to explain several things.</p> + +<p>Knowing that Carlin was waiting for him on the roof, and seeing that +his quest was unavailing, Cole put out his flash and moved toward the +door. He had advanced only a few steps when something prompted him to +halt. A vague impression that some one had stopped outside the door +came to him. He tiptoed to a corner of the room and waited. Presently +he heard a key grate in the lock, and then the door came open. It was +beginning to look as though his suspicions had been correct, that +persons other than the regular tenants were visiting the offices at +night.</p> + +<p>A light appeared in the outer room. Next he heard some one move across +the floor. From his position, in the corner of the inner office, Cole +could not see who the newcomer was, and he did not care to make his own +presence known just yet.</p> + +<p>The footsteps were coming toward him, and Cole pressed close to the +corner, as a figure appeared in the doorway. The footfalls gave him a +queer sensation. He thought he recognized the plopping little sounds, +suggestive of a walker who, instead of putting most of his weight on +his heels, places his entire foot on the ground at once.</p> + +<p>While still within the doorway the newcomer reached out a hand and +touched a switch on the inner wall. In the light that suddenly +appeared, Cole saw that he had identified the footfalls accurately. The +man was Professor Carmody, and <span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">212</span>Cole’s eyes narrowed as he recognized +him. The scientist wore a faded silk hat and a long overcoat, just +as Cole had seen him when he walked into Doctor Latham’s house the +day before, and under his arm he carried a large umbrella. He walked +straight to the middle of the office before he saw Cole, and then he +stopped so abruptly that it seemed as if his gaunt form would topple +over.</p> + +<p>“Hello,” he said, staring out of his small, mouse-colored eyes. His +long nose, much too large for symmetry, was turned up, and his parted +lips showed two rows of yellow teeth. He was plainly embarrassed, and +to conceal the fact he grinned ostentatiously.</p> + +<p>“Good evening, professor,” said Cole, stepping forward. Though this was +their first meeting at close quarters, he had reason to believe that +Carmody knew who he was. Miss Brownell, he recalled, had told him that +the professor was well aware that Cole had been watching him from a +distance for some time.</p> + +<p>“Are you connected with the Bureau of Civic Research, professor?” Cole +went on.</p> + +<p>“In a way, yes,” said Carmody. He had a very thin voice that had a +habit of rising to a shrill pitch, or falling to a faint murmur, +without regard to what he was saying. He peered at Cole in an +apologetic way. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you +before.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you know who I am?”</p> + +<p>Carmody wagged his head. “I can’t say that I do.”</p> + +<p>“Too bad, professor. I was in hopes that you <span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">213</span>would remember me. One +doesn’t like to ask favors of strangers.”</p> + +<p>“Favors?” Carmody’s face took on a forbidding frown. “You wish to ask a +favor of me?”</p> + +<p>“Just a slight one. There is a book in your library that is very hard +to obtain, and I am very anxious to read it. The author is one James +Price.”</p> + +<p>The professor looked at him hard and long. “You are mistaken,” he said +finally in a very low tone. “The author whom you mention is not in my +collection. May I ask what led you to think that I own the book in +question?”</p> + +<p>“A little bird told me.”</p> + +<p>“You take your information from curious sources.”</p> + +<p>“One has to, sometimes. By the way, professor, aren’t you keeping +rather queer office hours? It is, let me see, a quarter past one.”</p> + +<p>“I might ask the same question of yourself.”</p> + +<p>“That’s so; you might.”</p> + +<p>“I might also ask what you are doing here. It is my impression that you +do not belong on the premises.”</p> + +<p>“Hope I am not in the way. Please go ahead and attend to whatever +business brought you here.”</p> + +<p>But Carmody seemed in no hurry. Cole could not know whether it was +because he had abundant leisure on his hands, or because he did not +care to attend to his business in another man’s presence, but it was +evident that the professor was not disposed to gratify his curiosity. +Now and then his mousey little eyes moved furtively about the room, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">214</span>and once they rested in a designing way on one of the flat-top desks. +Cole, following his glance, was vaguely puzzled.</p> + +<p>“Pardon me, but aren’t you trespassing?” inquired Carmody after a pause.</p> + +<p>Cole folded his arms and smiled genially. “You are not going to order +me out, I hope?”</p> + +<p>“Suppose I should do that?”</p> + +<p>“I would overlook your rudeness and refuse to take the hint. If you +insisted, I might invite you to try to put me out. If you should make +such an attempt and fail at it, I would suggest calling the police to +your assistance. But I don’t think you will go that far, professor. You +might be called upon to explain your own presence here, and that would +prove embarrassing.”</p> + +<p>There was a calculating gleam in Carmody’s eyes. Cole, with a picture +in his mind of Carlin waiting for him impatiently on the roof, was +anxious to bring the interview to a climax. He had no intention of +leaving until he had learned the object of the professor’s visit.</p> + +<p>Once more Carmody looked stealthily about the room, and again his +glance rested on the desk. Cole’s lids narrowed, as he perceived that +the desk, which seemed to be the object of the professor’s interest, +was the one on which lay Englebreth’s unfinished letters. There +were three other desks in the room, so it seemed odd that Carmody +should center his attention on this particular one. Cole had already +discovered that the drawers were empty, and that the desk contained +nothing except the papers lying on top. Strange though it seemed, it +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">215</span>looked as though the scientist’s visit to the office at this late hour +was in some way concerned with the letters Englebreth had dictated that +afternoon.</p> + +<p>The theory seemed rather far-fetched, so Cole decided to test it. He +moved leisurely about the room a few times, then stopped before the +desk at which the professor’s sly glances had been directed. In a +casual manner he picked up the letters, looked hastily at two or three, +then folded them across the middle and stuck them into his pocket.</p> + +<p>He knew, even before the letters reached his pocket, that his suspicion +had been well founded. Carmody had watched his every move with growing +excitement. His expression had changed from bewilderment to dismay, and +finally his face took on a look of sullen determination.</p> + +<p>“What are you doing with those letters?” he demanded.</p> + +<p>“Taking them home,” said Cole easily, at the same time moving toward +the door.</p> + +<p>“Wait!” said the professor sternly.</p> + +<p>Cole turned around and watched him with amusement. “What’s the matter?” +he asked innocently. “What are these letters to you?”</p> + +<p>“You shall not leave this office with them. Give them to me at once.”</p> + +<p>He reached out a hand, and Cole saw that it trembled. Evidently he +was desperately intent upon obtaining possession of the letters. Cole +was at a loss to understand, for he knew that the epistles dealt with +political affairs that could be of no vital concern to a man like the +professor.</p> + +<p>“Don’t excite yourself,” he said quietly. “There’s <span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">216</span>nothing in these +letters that would interest you. They contain nothing but dry political +rot. What do you care about that sort of thing?”</p> + +<p>“Are you going to surrender them?” demanded Carmody, and the words +sounded like an ultimatum.</p> + +<p>“I’ll promise to consider it if you will tell me why you want them.”</p> + +<p>The professor regarded him queerly. A look of bewilderment crossed his +sullenly determined face. His crafty little eyes seemed to be trying to +read Cole’s hidden thoughts. “Why pretend you don’t know?” he asked; +then, in wheedling tones: “Come now! The joke has gone far enough. I +know you are only trying to tease an old man. The letters, please.”</p> + +<p>Cole shook his head. Carmody’s very insistence upon obtaining the +letters was reason enough why Cole should not give them up. Once more +he started for the door, but a sharp “Wait!” interrupted his progress.</p> + +<p>Cole turned slowly and looked into the barrel of a pistol in Carmody’s +hand.</p> + +<p>“My dear friend,” said the professor in his softest, lowest tones, +“please do not force me to take drastic measures. It would grieve me +exceedingly to have to deal harshly with you. The letters, please!”</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">217</span> +<h2 id="chap_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII</h2> +<div class="subheadc">THE LIGHT IN THE WINDOW</div> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">COLE’S only response to Professor Carmody’s soft-spoken ultimatum was a +smile. He knew that the scientist was the kind of foe who is the most +dangerous when he uses his gentlest tones. It struck him as droll that +he was risking his life for the sake of a few letters which, as far as +he could see, he could put to no earthly use. He would not know what +to do with them even if he should be able to depart with them safely. +It was only Carmody’s earnestness in the matter that convinced him the +letters must have a hidden significance.</p> + +<p>“Well, professor,” he said easily, “it looks like a deadlock. I don’t +want to give up the letters, and you seem in no hurry to shoot.”</p> + +<p>The professor smiled still more blandly and took a tighter grip on the +pistol. Cole believed he would shoot rather than see him depart with +the letters. There was a certain grimness about the gaunt form and the +sallow face which warned him that Carmody was playing a desperate game +for high stakes. As often happens in tense moments, his mind turned to +trivial things. He pictured Carlin waiting peevishly on the roof. He +imagined Ballinger in the midst of another humorous yarn. A ludicrous +vision of the hunchback, chained to the operating table in Doctor +Latham’s house, flitted through his mind.</p> + +<p>But the pistol in Carmody’s hand baffled him. He <span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">218</span>felt no fear, but +neither did he care to throw his life away needlessly. Once before in +the past forty-eight hours he had looked into the muzzle of a pistol, +but that one had been in Doctor Latham’s hand. He had laughed then +and dared the physician to shoot, knowing that Latham, whatever other +villainies he might be guilty of, was not the type that can shoot down +a defenseless man in cold blood. He was too proud and high-spirited for +that. With Carmody it was different. The professor was made of coarser +stuff. He was not hampered by considerations of chivalry and fair play. +He would shoot as soon as Cole’s back was turned.</p> + +<p>And so he restrained the impulse to laugh in the professor’s face and +walk away. He preferred to bide his chance and watch for a sign of +wavering in the hand that held the pistol. Growing tired of waiting, he +decided to try a little stratagem that he had found successful in the +past. It was a simple trick and based on one of the many queer antics +of the human mind.</p> + +<p>He looked away from the pistol and began to gaze fixedly at a point on +the opposite wall. Moments passed and grew into minutes, and still he +stared rigidly, not a muscle in his face moving. His eyes were slanting +upward, at a level of about a foot and a half above the professor’s +head. The latter could not see what he was looking at, for he dared +not turn his head, knowing that Cole would jump the moment he did +so. At first he was mildly puzzled. Then his face showed signs of +bewilderment. His curiosity changed into nervous concern.</p> + +<p>By and by he seemed plainly worried. It was <span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">219</span>evident that Cole’s fixed +and silent scrutiny of something which the professor could not see was +seriously affecting his nerves.</p> + +<p>Cole’s rapt expression did not change in the slightest degree. He just +looked and looked at that blank point somewhere behind the professor’s +back and just above his head. Carmody grew more and more disconcerted. +A tension, which he was doing his best to check, was taking hold of +him. He shifted from one foot to the other. A sense of something weird +and unaccountable was stealing over him, despite his scientific poise +of mind.</p> + +<p>At last came the chance for which Cole had waited. It was merely an +uneasy flicker in Carmody’s eyes, accompanied by a slight turn of +the head. It was not much, but Cole knew that, for the moment, the +professor’s mind was diverted from the pistol. It was risky, but he +might not get another chance. He flexed his muscles, and leaped, first +to one side, then straight at Carmody, wrenching the pistol from his +hand.</p> + +<p>A squeallike cry broke from the professor’s lips. Cole chuckled as he +ran. The scientist started in pursuit, but Cole slammed the door in +his face. In another instant, putting the pistol in his pocket, he was +climbing through the window. Soon he was hurrying up the fire escape. A +dark figure, with coat tails flapping in the wind, hastened toward him, +as he swung over the parapet and landed on the roof.</p> + +<p>“Where on earth have you been?” asked Carlin reproachfully. “I was just +on the point of going down to look for you.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">220</span></p> + +<p>“Is there a man on the staff who understands ciphers?” inquired Cole, +taking the lawyer’s arm and hurrying him down from the roof.</p> + +<p>“Ciphers? Why, yes. Findlay Abbott is one of the best cipher experts in +the country. What do you want of him?”</p> + +<p>“Find him and send him to my office,” said Cole hurriedly. Leaving the +bewildered lawyer several paces behind, he ran down the corridor and +entered his office. He had been there only a few moments when Abbott, a +fat and pink-faced little man, trundled in. Behind him walked Carlin. +Cole took the letters from his pocket and handed them to the expert.</p> + +<p>“See if you can make anything out of these, Abbott,” he directed. “All +I know about them is that they are so important to one man that he was +ready to shoot me on account of them. They may be in code.”</p> + +<p>Abbott looked as though he relished the task. He sat down, wiped his +spectacles, and fell to work. In the meantime Cole told the lawyer of +the episode in room 2512.</p> + +<p>Carlin’s eyes popped as he listened. He glanced with keen interest +at the papers under Abbott’s nose. “You don’t think the offices of +the Bureau of Civic Research are the headquarters of the gang we are +fighting?”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Cole thoughtfully. “In the morning you might inquire of +your agent how long the bureau has been located there. From what I +saw, though, it looked as though the concern was on the square. It’s +more likely that certain parties are <span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">221</span>using the offices as a listening +post, because of their close proximity to this establishment. Knowing +that we are fighting them, those fellows naturally want to find out how +much we know and what our plans are. I have a strong suspicion that the +dictaphone wires ran into the rooms below. What do you make of those +letters, Abbott?”</p> + +<p>But Abbott was too deeply engrossed in his task to hear the question. +The other two watched him in silence for a time. His puckered brow told +that the letters presented a knotty problem. Finally he looked up.</p> + +<p>“No code here,” he declared. “These are just ordinary letters.”</p> + +<p>“Sure of that?” demanded Cole sharply.</p> + +<p>“As sure as one can be of anything. I’ll wager my salary for the next +ten years that these are just plain letters.”</p> + +<p>“Then why did Carmody——” Cole suddenly gave the desk a resounding +thwack. A light of comprehension dawned in his eyes. “I take my hat +off to the professor. He is a slick little trickster. He wanted to get +me away from there, having private business to attend to, and so he +pulled the wool over my eyes and made me think that these letters were +a matter of life or death. Carlin, I’m a boob!”</p> + +<p>He bounded from the office, leaving the lawyer and Abbott to stare +at each other. He was angry, but only with himself. For the crafty +professor he felt an unwilling admiration, but he was also determined +not to let Carmody have the last laugh.</p> + +<p>The discovery that Englebreth’s letters were genuine had given him a +sharp mental jolt. A suspicion <span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">222</span>had been gradually assuming shape and +clarity in his mind, but the cipher expert’s report had uprooted it +completely. All that those letters now meant to Cole was a wasted hour +and a sense of humiliation.</p> + +<p>He hurried up to the roof, then down the fire escape, and soon he +stood once more outside the door of room 2512. Carmody had had ample +time to dispose of whatever business had brought him there, but it was +just possible that he had not yet left, so Cole entered as quietly as +he could. The moment he closed the door behind him he knew he was too +late. The light that appeared at his touch on the button revealed two +empty rooms.</p> + +<p>Cole moved forward, looking sharply over walls and behind furniture. +Perhaps Carmody had accidentally left some clew to his mysterious +errand. It was even possible that Cole might get an inkling as to the +discovery that had cost McKendrick his life. He searched carefully, but +at first with no results. There were fresh, but very faint, footprints +on the floor, and he could easily locate the spot where he and Carmody +had stood, while the professor was pointing the pistol at him. Which +way had Carmody turned after Cole left the offices? The footprints +reached to the door and then back into the inner office. Evidently +Carmody had locked himself in before attending to his errand. With some +difficulty Cole traced the faint marks across the floor, muttering a +short exclamation when he found that they led straight to the safe, +standing in a corner of the room.</p> + +<p>Cole had given the safe only a cursory glance on his previous visit +to the office. Carmody’s entrance <span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">223</span>had prevented him from making a +more careful examination. Now he saw that the safe was one of the best +and latest makes. There was a look of freshness about the blue steel +surface and the bright nickel trimmings which suggested it had not +been there long. He remembered that this particular brand of safe, in +addition to its other advertised merits, was supposed to be air-tight +and absolutely burglar proof. It seemed rather large for a concern +whose affairs were transacted in two small rooms, but, perhaps, it had +been selected with a view to growing needs.</p> + +<p>The course of the footprints made it plain that Carmody’s errand had +been related to the safe in some way, but that was as far as Cole’s +deductions reached. Whether the professor had removed something from +the steel box, or put something in, he had no means of knowing, and the +locked door prevented him from gratifying his curiosity on that point. +It did not stop him from exercising his imagination, however. With a +grim nod and a tightening of the lips he made a guess in regard to +Carmody’s business with the safe.</p> + +<p>There was nothing more he could do for the present, so he made his +way back to the headquarters of The Unknown Seven. In the hall he met +Carlin.</p> + +<p>“Well?” asked the lawyer. “Found out anything?”</p> + +<p>“The more I find out about this case the less I know,” confessed Cole. +“All the same, I think I know what it was McKendrick saw that cost him +his life.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">224</span></p> + +<p>Carlin’s brows came up.</p> + +<p>“But I’m not going to tell you what it was,” Cole added quickly. “I may +be mistaken, you see, and I don’t propose to jeopardize my reputation +with you. By the way, there’s a new safe in number 2512, as nifty an +article of that kind as I ever saw. Pretty good size, too. Big enough +for a man of your dimensions to sit down in, Carlin.”</p> + +<p>“You’re not going to ask me to crawl into it, I hope?”</p> + +<p>“No, nothing like that. I just have a hunch that in the morning that +safe is going to be taken out of 2512.”</p> + +<p>“Anything unusual in that?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing at all, and that’s just what certain parties are counting +on, I think. There are times when it is expedient to do the unusual +thing under cover of the usual. I want you to detail a man to see what +happens to that safe, Carlin.”</p> + +<p>The lawyer nodded, but in the next instant his eyes opened wide in +astonishment. “You don’t think that——”</p> + +<p>“As I said before,” Cole interrupted, “I don’t care to risk my +reputation on a guess that may prove unfounded. Seen anything of +Ballinger lately?”</p> + +<p>“Not for half an hour or so. Been busy in the main office.”</p> + +<p>Cole gave him a keen glance. “What’s the matter, Carlin? You look +worried.”</p> + +<p>The lawyer forced a smile. “It’s just a—a premonition. I guess that’s +what you would call it. I have a feeling that the gang knows we are +closing in around them, and that they are getting ready <span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">225</span>to cash in. We +must strike quickly, or it will be too late.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know but what you are right. I’ve felt something of the same +kind myself. We must not only strike quickly, but with both fists.” As +if he had meant it literally, Cole looked down at his clenched hands.</p> + +<p>“But where, Cole? Where are we going to strike? We don’t know who the +leader of the gang is. That is, we can’t be sure. We don’t know where +the plant is located. We don’t even know——”</p> + +<p>“You make me dizzy,” said Cole with a chuckle, and then he turned +abruptly and walked into his private office. There he pressed a button, +and in a few moments Sambo entered.</p> + +<p>“Ask Miss Brownell to step in here,” Cole told the big negro.</p> + +<p>Sambo’s eyes opened wide, showing a generous expanse of white. “Why, +she done lef’ a hour ago, sah. She went out in a mighty rush, too.”</p> + +<p>“Sure of that, Sambo?”</p> + +<p>“Course I’s sure. I seed her mahself. It was just after Doc Ballinger +lef’, sah.”</p> + +<p>“Doctor Ballinger?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sah. The doc looked lahk he was wurried. The wurriedest man I +eveh seed, sah. He tried not to let on, but he didn’t fool mah a-tall, +sah.”</p> + +<p>“And you say Miss Brownell left shortly afterward?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sah. Not more’n a minute, sah.”</p> + +<p>Cole jumped up from his chair. For a moment he stared at the gigantic +negro, then waved a hand in dismissal. He had instructed Miss Brownell +to <span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">226</span>put one of the men on Ballinger’s trail, in case the physician +should go out. Now it seemed evident that the girl herself had started +out to shadow the doctor. Cole could only hope that her audacity would +not lead her into trouble. His acquaintance with women had been only +casual, and he had an impression that they either fainted in a crisis, +or else burst into tears. Miss Brownell was, of course, a variant from +the usual type, but just the same——</p> + +<p>Cole sat down again. After all, he could do nothing for the present, +and Miss Brownell seemed to have a surprising capacity for taking care +of herself. He would stay close to the telephone, and, in due time, +she would undoubtedly call him up. He waited, but the instrument at +his side remained tantalisingly silent. When at length it shrilled a +summons, he jumped nervously.</p> + +<p>But the person calling was not Miss Brownell. Instead, it was Sloane, +the operative whom Cole had detailed to watch Doctor Latham’s +residence. Latham and the hunchback had been far from his mind for +several hours.</p> + +<p>“What is it, Sloane?” he asked quietly.</p> + +<p>Sloane reported that for the last hour a mysterious light had appeared +at intervals in one of the windows of the doctor’s house. It might mean +anything or nothing, and Sloane did not know what to make of it, so he +was telephoning in for instructions.</p> + +<p>“Stay where you are,” Cole told him. “I’ll be with you in a little +while.”</p> + +<p>For a few moments longer he sat at the desk, his mind working quickly. +It was just possible that <span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">227</span>at Latham’s house he would find some clew to +the movements of Ballinger and Miss Brownell. There was a fog in his +mind, the result of too many conflicting developments, but there were a +few things that seemed clear.</p> + +<p>Soon he was out on the street. In less than half an hour he reached +the corner nearest Latham’s house and walked east on the opposite side +of the street. He cast sharp glances into the shadows along the row of +buildings. Suddenly he stopped. “Sloane,” he said in a low tone.</p> + +<p>The scholarly looking operative stepped out of a gloomy doorway. “Glad +you came, sir,” he whispered. “Things look queer.”</p> + +<p>“What about the light you mentioned?”</p> + +<p>“It comes and goes, every two minutes or so. Look! There it is!”</p> + +<p>He pointed to a window on the second floor of the physician’s +residence. A small, flickering light had just appeared. It wavered +for a few moments, then faded out. The two men waited in silence, and +presently the mysterious light came back. All the other windows were +dark, and the solitary glow had an eerie look.</p> + +<p>“Stay here,” said Cole. “Don’t move unless I signal you by whistling +three times from one of the windows.”</p> + +<p>Briskly he crossed the street. A bunch of skeleton keys rattled in his +hand, as he vanished from sight in the dark basement entrance.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">228</span> +<h2 id="chap_XIX">CHAPTER XIX</h2> +<div class="subheadc">A WARNING</div> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">VERY softly Cole crept up the stairs. On the ground floor he stopped +for a moment and listened. A heavy silence seemed to hover over the +entire house. He stole up another flight of stairs and turned toward a +door in front. The knob turned noiselessly in his hand, but the door +was locked. He stooped and tried to peep through the keyhole, but he +could see nothing.</p> + +<p>A few moments passed; then a slight scratching sound, like that +produced when a match is struck, was heard within. At the same time a +faint glow was visible through the keyhole. It lasted for ten seconds +or so, and then all was darkness again. It was evident now that the +intermittent glow which Cole had seen from the sidewalk had been +produced by some one striking a number of matches.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he stood erect, listening. For a moment he thought he had +heard a slight sound, coming from somewhere below, but apparently he +had been mistaken. He had entered so quietly that it did not seem +possible Doctor Latham’s sleep could have been disturbed by his +movements. Again he fixed his attention on the door, for once more +a scrrrrch came from the room. Through the keyhole, just before the +fluttering light went out, he caught a glimpse of the hunchback.</p> + +<p>Cole was puzzled. What could the hunchback <span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">229</span>be doing, and what did +the frequent striking of matches mean? He waited, uncertain what to +do, but strongly tempted to open the door with one of his skeleton +keys. Moments passed, and he listened in vain for further repetitions +of the scratching sounds. Instead, he heard what sounded like a +half-suppressed chuckle. Evidently the hunchback had found something +that pleased him. A faint tinkle came through the keyhole, followed by +a louder sound, like that of a heavy object being dragged across the +floor. Then silence.</p> + +<p>Cole felt in his pockets for his bunch of keys, but he quickly withdrew +his hand and cast a glance over his shoulders. This time he knew he +was not mistaken. Some one was moving about on the floor below, but +so softly that Cole’s keen ears detected only a faint suspicion of a +sound. His eyes darted to left and right in search of a hiding place, +but the best he could find was the corner back of the stairway railing. +He pressed against the wall and crouched low.</p> + +<p>Some one was coming up the stairs. He was determined to learn as much +as he could before he made his presence known. The meager light from +the little electric bulb in the ceiling revealed a sweep of bald +cranium, by which he easily identified Doctor Latham. Perhaps he had +been awakened by the hunchback’s movements, or perhaps Cole’s entrance +had partly aroused him, and he had just now become fully awake.</p> + +<p>The doctor swept past him without a glance in his direction and moved +straight toward the room occupied by the hunchback. There he stopped, +took <span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">230</span>a key from his pocket and unlocked the door. He pushed it open +and stood in a listening attitude. Even from his remote position in the +rear of the hall, he could hear a lusty snoring. It was strange, since +he knew that the hunchback had been wide awake only a few minutes ago. +Evidently the fellow was up to a ruse of some kind.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Latham turned and walked quickly toward the rear. For a moment +Cole thought he had been discovered, but the doctor took only half a +dozen steps down the hall. Standing on the stairway railing he removed +the electric bulb from its socket in the ceiling, then entered the +hunchback’s room. The hall was now dark, and Cole thought it safe to +come forward. He reached the door just as a light appeared within. +Peeping through the crack between the door and the jamb he saw that the +physician had attached the bulb to a wall fixture. Now he was standing +beside the operating table to which the hunchback had been linked for +the past twenty-four hours, leaning over the motionless figure lying on +it.</p> + +<p>He mumbled something beneath his breath, then gave the hunchback’s +shoulder a vigorous shaking. The snoring stopped. The fellow sat up +with difficulty and rubbed his eyes with his free hand.</p> + +<p>“You needn’t pretend,” said Latham. He was arrayed in the same dressing +gown in which Cole had seen him once before. “I know you haven’t been +sleeping. Where did you find these matches?”</p> + +<p>He pointed to a litter of charred stubs on the floor. The hunchback +eyed him stolidly and shrugged his misshapen shoulders.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">231</span></p> + +<p>The doctor’s glance went to an old battered safe in a corner of the +room. He stepped up to it and tried the lock.</p> + +<p>“Thought you might be tempted to while away the time by investigating +this old safe of mine,” he declared. “I removed the bulb on purpose, so +you wouldn’t make much headway with it. Not that you would have found +much if you had opened it, only a few papers.”</p> + +<p>Again he gazed at the charred fragments scattered over the floor. Cole, +looking through the narrow crack, saw a puzzled frown on his bearded +face. The room was small, and the conglomeration of articles in it +suggested it was used in part for storage purposes. The scattered match +stubs perplexed Cole as much as they did the doctor.</p> + +<p>“There might have been a box in one of the bureau drawers,” muttered +the physician. “I suppose that’s where you found them. I don’t see, +though, what pleasure you derive from burning up a lot of matches.”</p> + +<p>Cole was watching the hunchback’s face. A look of sly satisfaction +lurked in the sallow features. Once the fellow bent a squinting glance +on some object across the floor, but all Cole could see at that +particular point was a dilapidated trunk. His bewilderment grew. The +scene between the physician and the hunchback was not exactly what he +might have suspected. He sensed a hidden element in it. He was aware of +a curious strain and tension in the air.</p> + +<p>“I thought I heard you drag the table over the <span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">232</span>floor,” remarked the +doctor. “You were not doing it just for exercise. What was your idea?”</p> + +<p>Again a look of secret elation crossed the hunchback’s face. He jingled +the steel links that held one of his hands to the table.</p> + +<p>“Aw, can’t a guy move about a bit if he wants to?” he asked. “Sittin’ +still in one place all the time gets on a feller’s nerve. I didn’t do +no harm.”</p> + +<p>The physician regarded him searchingly. Evidently he, too, had seen +the furtive smirk in the hunchback’s face. He stepped briskly to the +operating cot and shook the fellow’s arm.</p> + +<p>“I’m not so sure about that,” he remarked. “You have been up to some +kind of deviltry, my man. Now——”</p> + +<p>The sentence ended in a gasp. In a twinkling the hunchback had wrenched +his arm free of the doctor’s grasp. Cole was amazed at the swift play +of his fingers. He could scarcely see what was happening, but a loop +fell down over the physician’s head and was tightened around his throat +with a quick jerk. He spluttered and choked, while the hunchback +snickered gleefully.</p> + +<p>“I got yuh now!” declared the little man, drawing the loop still +tighter. The doctor wriggled and squirmed, but the constriction at his +throat weakened his efforts. The whole scene seemed unreal to Cole. +It took him several moments to realize that Latham was being garroted +by the man who had found refuge in his house after murdering Malcolm +Reeves.</p> + +<p>He bounded forward, and a well-aimed blow sent the hunchback reeling +back over the operating <span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">233</span>table. The garrote, made up of two shoe laces +tied together, had bitten deep into the flesh around the doctor’s +throat. His eyes bulged, and his gaping lips were bloodless. A hoarse +rattle sounded in his throat, as he struggled for breath.</p> + +<p>In a short time the noose was undone, and the physician sank into a +chair. While he sucked air into his lungs in great gulps he looked +queerly at Cole. The hunchback lay sullenly silent on the table.</p> + +<p>“Your visit was very opportune this time,” murmured Latham, as soon as +he began to breathe more easily. “Where did you come from?”</p> + +<p>Cole signified with a shrug that the matter was of no importance. +“What’s gotten into this protégé of yours?” he asked with a glance at +the hunchback. “Did he go crazy all of a sudden?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no; he’s as sane this moment as he ever was or ever will be. I +knew he would kill me if he got a chance, and so I did all I could to +deprive him of the opportunity.”</p> + +<p>There was doubt and bewilderment in Cole’s gaze. “But why should he +kill you? I thought——”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I think I know what you thought,” interrupted the doctor. “For +a man of keen intellect you have a singular capacity for getting +things twisted. I suppose, however, it isn’t to be wondered at under +the circumstances. Wonder where the fellow got those shoe laces. I +thought I had removed from his reach everything that might serve as an +implement of murder.”</p> + +<p>Cole stepped to the trunk at which the hunchback had been squinting +from time to time. He <span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">234</span>lifted the lid, and the first thing he saw was a +pair of old shoes from which the laces had been removed.</p> + +<p>Latham looked at him in surprise. “That trunk was locked this morning,” +he remarked.</p> + +<p>“The lock is a very simple one,” Cole observed. “Even a man with only +one arm could pick it without much trouble. With a supply of matches +handy, the removal of the electric bulb didn’t give him much of a +handicap. You seem to lead a very exciting life, doctor.”</p> + +<p>The doctor smiled. He felt quite at ease again. He got up from the +chair and strolled over to the table where the hunchback lay.</p> + +<p>“You are really very simple,” he declared. “Didn’t you know that +murdering me wouldn’t help you out of your predicament? Why, you would +have starved to death if you had carried out your attempt.”</p> + +<p>“Guess again.” The fellow leered insolently. “My pals woulda found me +before long. To-night, maybe.”</p> + +<p>“What’s your grudge against the doctor?” inquired Cole. “Why did you +try to kill him?”</p> + +<p>“Why don’t you ask him?” retorted the hunchback, wagging his head in +the physician’s direction.</p> + +<p>“Our friend doesn’t seem very communicative,” observed Latham. “I don’t +think he will attempt any more mischief to-night. Suppose we go down +and sample one of my cigars?”</p> + +<p>Cole assented, but not until he had searched the hunchback and removed +a handful of matches. He believed the doctor knew the motive behind the +murderous attempt. There was a fog in his mind, for <span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">235</span>the scene he had +just witnessed did not seem to harmonize with his previous observations.</p> + +<p>“You are a cool one, doctor,” he remarked when they were down in the +consultation room and the physician had passed his box of cigars.</p> + +<p>“Life hardens one. I sometimes wish I hadn’t lost my emotional +susceptibilities. They are the things that give color and tone to life. +Life without thrills is a barren desert.”</p> + +<p>Cole suddenly recalled his original errand. He bent forward and looked +the doctor full in the eyes. “There is one question I want to ask. You +may not be able or willing to answer it. Where is Miss Brownell?”</p> + +<p>The question acted like an electric shock on the physician, upsetting +his magnificent composure as nothing else could have done. A suspicion +of pallor crept up beneath the black beard.</p> + +<p>“What about her?” he demanded sharply. “Has anything happened to her?”</p> + +<p>Cole smiled amusedly. “For a man who has lost his emotional +susceptibilities you manage to work up quite a lot of feeling over a +simple question. You know the lady I am referring to?”</p> + +<p>“Why—er—slightly.”</p> + +<p>Cole gave him a hard, searching glance. He felt the doctor had +deliberately understated the truth. “Miss Brownell disappeared this +evening,” he announced. “I came here in the hope of learning something +of her whereabouts from you.”</p> + +<p>“Why from me?” Latham was laboring under a tension that he tried hard +to suppress.</p> + +<p>“Several trails seem to point in your direction, <span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">236</span>doctor. Do you know +what has become of Miss Brownell?”</p> + +<p>Latham gripped the arms of his chair. “I swear I haven’t the faintest +idea,” he declared, looking Cole straight in the eyes.</p> + +<p>Cole believed him. There was something in the doctor’s tone and +manner that carried conviction. He knew that for once the man was +not shamming. His gaze cut deep into the physician’s bewildering +personality, and he found not a trace of duplicity.</p> + +<p>“What is Miss Brownell to you?” he asked bluntly. “Not in love with +her, are you, doctor?”</p> + +<p>The bearded lips parted in a faint smile. “I admire her immensely. +Have known her for a long time. Was a friend of her father’s. A very +charming young person indeed. But at my age one hesitates before he +permits himself to fall in love. Besides, Miss Brownell is not likely +to entertain any romantic notions in regard to me.”</p> + +<p>Cole nodded thoughtfully. Despite the doctor’s light tone and airy +gestures, the real Dickson Latham stood revealed before him.</p> + +<p>“I understand, doctor,” he said meaningly. “I see how it is with you. +As for Miss Brownell, she left a certain place, about an hour and a +half ago, in pursuit of a colleague of yours, Doctor Ballinger.”</p> + +<p>A queer little mutter slipped from Latham’s lips. He clenched his hands +convulsively; his face underwent a startling transformation; a mingling +of hate and fear showed in his dark, flashing eyes.</p> + +<p>“That hound!” he mumbled under his breath, evidently not intending Cole +to hear. With an inward <span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">237</span>wrench he steadied himself; in the next moment +he seemed cool and composed. “In that case we must endeavor to find +her,” he added aloud.</p> + +<p>“More easily said than done, doctor. Have you any idea where Ballinger +might have taken her; in the event that she should have fallen into his +hands?”</p> + +<p>“There is one place he would naturally take her to, but I don’t know +the geographical location of it.”</p> + +<p>“In plain words, the headquarters of a certain gang of alchemists and +cutthroats?”</p> + +<p>Latham nodded.</p> + +<p>“You are mixed up with this gang, aren’t you, doctor?”</p> + +<p>“I was.”</p> + +<p>“And you performed an operation on Malcolm Reeves?” Cole watched him +closely to observe the effect of his question.</p> + +<p>“That is true,” said Latham in a queer tone. He smiled a sad, whimsical +smile. “But you must have observed that truth sometimes covers a +multitude of lies.”</p> + +<p>Cole pondered this cryptical statement. “One more question. Why did the +hunchback try to kill you?”</p> + +<p>“Some men are willing to do anything for money. But this line of talk +isn’t leading us anywhere. The thing of prime importance is to find +Miss Brownell. From what little I know of the gang, to which you +referred, I should say her life isn’t worth a plugged nickel if she has +fallen into their hands.”</p> + +<p>He spoke evenly, but Cole sensed an ache behind <span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">238</span>the words. “Do you +know the leader of the organization?” was his next question.</p> + +<p>“He was never referred to by name in my presence, and I never came in +contact with him. In my dealings with the members I never got higher +than Professor Carmody.”</p> + +<p>Again, despite the contradictions and discrepancies that hemmed in the +doctor’s statements, Cole was disposed to believe him. “There is no +cause for alarm just at present,” he declared. “We don’t know that Miss +Brownell is in trouble. She is a capable young woman and——”</p> + +<p>“Ah, but you don’t know Ballinger,” interrupted Latham.</p> + +<p>Cole reached for the telephone and called the number of The Unknown +Seven. After a brief delay he was connected with Carlin.</p> + +<p>“Where are you?” demanded the lawyer excitedly. “Been trying to get +hold of you everywhere.”</p> + +<p>“What has happened?” asked Cole evenly, though the lawyer’s agitation +was contagious.</p> + +<p>“Happened!” echoed Carlin. “Received an anonymous telephone message a +while ago warning us that, unless we keep hands off, Miss Brownell will +be dead inside twenty-four hours!”</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">239</span> +<h2 id="chap_XX">CHAPTER XX</h2> +<div class="subheadc">THE VENEER OF INTELLIGENCE</div> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">THE doctor’s face betrayed his anxiety, as Cole repeated what he had +just heard over the telephone.</p> + +<p>“That settles it,” muttered the physician. “We must find Miss Brownell +at once.”</p> + +<p>Cole nodded. For several minutes he had been watching the physician +closely. It was as if a veil had been removed from one phase of +Latham’s many-sided character. Cole looked through the contradictions +of his personality, and he knew that on one point, at least, the doctor +was sincere. That was in his attitude toward Miss Brownell.</p> + +<p>“There’s no hurry,” he said calmly. “Nothing is going to happen to her +for twenty-four hours.”</p> + +<p>“But why delay?”</p> + +<p>“Because we can do nothing else. Another reason is that I need sleep. +The third reason is Toots.”</p> + +<p>“Toots?” Latham frowned. “Who is Toots?”</p> + +<p>“The most distracted cat in the State of New York at the present +moment. My rooms were invaded by prowlers this afternoon, everything +thrown helter-skelter, and Toots just can’t bear fuss of any kind. +She is a very temperamental cat, doctor. You will hear from me in the +morning.”</p> + +<p>He left the scowling physician and walked toward the door. There he +stopped and looked back. <span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">240</span>“Don’t worry,” he said. “We will see Miss +Brownell out of this. There’s something of a plan buzzing around in my +mind. So long, doctor.”</p> + +<p>Cole walked out. Despite his cheerful tone he was not altogether free +from worry. The situation, as far as Miss Brownell was concerned, +looked critical enough. With the fate of Reeves and McKendrick in mind, +Cole knew the gang would not stop short of murder, if it suited their +plans. The hope he had tried to instill in Doctor Latham was based on +the advantages which he held over the other side. So far Ballinger +did not know that he was being suspected, and this was an important +point in Cole’s favor. A man who thinks himself safe is apt to make +blunders and become incautious. Another advantage lay in the fact that +the conspirators knew nothing of the deductions Cole had made from +Carmody’s visit to the offices of the Bureau of Civic Research, or of +his suspicions in regard to the big safe standing there.</p> + +<p>Cole went home, noticed with approval that Mrs. Armstrong had tidied +up his rooms, and that Toots was sleeping tranquilly on her favorite +cushion. In a few minutes Cole himself was sound asleep. Five hours he +slept, and then he awoke clear-eyed and vigorous. After feeding Toots +and getting his own breakfast, he went to the offices of The Unknown +Seven. On his desk he found a note from Carlin announcing that the +lawyer had, in accordance with Cole’s instructions, detailed one of the +operatives to watch room 2512 and report at once if the safe should be +taken out.</p> + +<p>Cole crumpled the note in his fist. It was yet <span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">241</span>early, and only a few +members of the staff were on duty. He went to the end of the hall and +glanced into the room where the body of McKendrick lay. What to do with +it was a delicate problem in view of the fact that the operations of +The Unknown Seven were being conducted secretly. Perhaps the best way, +was Cole’s reflection, would be to encase it in a plain box and ship +it anonymously to the morgue. Later, in some indirect way, he would +endeavor to see that the hunchback was duly punished.</p> + +<p>He locked the door of the little room and went back to his office. +He had been there only a few minutes when Doctor Ballinger, after a +discreet knock, stepped in.</p> + +<p>“You are early, doctor,” remarked Cole genially.</p> + +<p>Ballinger sat down and crossed his long legs. “I’ve been looking for +Miss Brownell,” he explained. “Seen anything of her?”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Cole casually, knowing that the doctor was watching him +keenly. “A bit too early for her, I guess. No doubt she will be +strolling in soon.”</p> + +<p>“Making any progress?”</p> + +<p>“Rome wasn’t built in one day,” said Cole evasively, knowing that the +question was a subtle feeler. “I’m just taking hold of the job, you +know.”</p> + +<p>“Still think there’s a traitor among us?”</p> + +<p>“I not only think it, but I am sure of it,” declared Cole testily, as +if reproaching himself for his failure to expose the renegade. He was +on the point of saying more, but just then the telephone <span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">242</span>rang. It was +Fessenden, the operative who had been detailed to watch room 2512.</p> + +<p>“They’re just taking it out, sir,” reported Fessenden, cautiously +hiding the gist of his statement behind the neutral pronoun.</p> + +<p>“Well, stay on the job and report developments to me,” said Cole in +tones that seemed to indicate that the matter was of no particular +importance. “You see,” he went on, turning to the doctor, as he hung up +the receiver, “I spilled the beans at dinner. The traitor has had his +warning, and from now on he will be a hard man to catch.”</p> + +<p>The doctor agreed with him. They discussed the matter from various +angles and finally the telephone rang again. Fessenden reported that +“it” had been loaded onto a truck.</p> + +<p>“Stay with it,” said Cole laconically. “Telephone me when you can.” +He was aware of a questioning gleam in the doctor’s eyes, as he hung +up, but he pretended to have noticed nothing. “Fessenden thinks he has +come across a clew,” he added for Ballinger’s benefit. “Don’t think it +amounts to anything, but it’s just as well to run it down.”</p> + +<p>“What sort of clew?”</p> + +<p>“It seems to have something to do with the murder of Reeves,” said Cole +indifferently. “Not more than one clew out of twenty ever pans out, and +I haven’t much hope for this one.”</p> + +<p>The doctor seemed to have been deceived by his tone. After a few more +remarks he walked out. In spite of what he had told Carlin the night +before, he had been far from certain that the safe would be taken out; +at any rate he had not expected it <span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">243</span>would be done before another night. +Fessenden’s report had started a long train of thoughts in his mind.</p> + +<p>Shortly before noon the lawyer walked in.</p> + +<p>“I’ve just made some inquiries about the Bureau of Civic Research,” +he reported, after he had been told that there was no news of Miss +Brownell. “There isn’t the slightest doubt about its genuineness. +Some of the biggest men in town belong to it. It’s a sort of reform +organization; interested in political uplift and that kind of thing. +They’ve occupied the two offices down below ever since the building +opened.”</p> + +<p>“That’s interesting,” said Cole, looking as if his trend of thought had +taken a sharp quirk. “By the way, the safe was taken out of room 2512 a +little while ago.”</p> + +<p>“Anything startling in that?”</p> + +<p>“Well, it’s just possible that, if we can follow the safe to its +destination, we shall find Miss Brownell.”</p> + +<p>“How do you make that out? What has the safe to do with Miss Brownell?”</p> + +<p>“My reasoning is based on the assumption that certain parties are as +anxious to hide the one as the other. If that is so then it is only +natural to suppose that they will hide both in one place. That safe, +Carlin, represents our only hope of getting Miss Brownell out of +danger.”</p> + +<p>The lawyer scratched his head thoughtfully. “I would advise you to +move cautiously. Those blackguards would kill her without the slightest +hesitancy if——”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">244</span></p> + +<p>“Oh, I’ll be careful,” promised Cole. “All the same we must move +quickly. I think your hunch yesterday was right, Carlin. The gang is +getting ready to cash in their chips. They are holding the threat of +death over Miss Brownell in the hope of influencing us through her and +making us let them alone till after the clean-up. The miserable cowards +are hiding behind a woman. The idea makes me mad clean through.”</p> + +<p>“You look it,” observed Carlin. Shortly afterward he withdrew, and +a little while later Fessenden telephoned that the safe had been +transferred to a private yacht, moored at the foot of West One Hundred +and Thirtieth Street. Fessenden did not know to whom the craft +belonged. He added that it did not look as though the boat would start +for a while, for the crew were on shore leave. Cole instructed him to +report at once if it should appear that the yacht was about to sail.</p> + +<p>“They’ll probably wait till after dark,” he told himself after +Fessenden had finished. “Rather bold of them to put it aboard a yacht +in broad daylight. Really no reason why they shouldn’t, though,” was +his second thought. “As far as they know, nobody suspects anything. It +would look as if the safe was being shipped to a summer home somewhere +along the shore. Many people keep jewelry and other valuables in +such places, and a safe comes in handy. And to transport it by water +on a private yacht is less risky than intrusting it to the express +companies. There’ll be a merry little chase to-night.”</p> + +<p>Cole looked as if a whimsical idea had occurred to him. He called up +Latham and inquired if the <span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">245</span>doctor owned a motor boat. The physician +replied that he did; it was a small affair, he explained, but a demon +for speed. Cole promised that he would learn something interesting if +he would have the boat ready within an hour, at a certain point along +the river. Latham’s imagination seemed to cover the gaps in Cole’s +statement, for he promptly agreed to do as suggested.</p> + +<p>After giving several orders Cole left the office. His rendezvous with +Latham was a short distance below the point where the larger craft was +moored. Before boarding the doctor’s boat Cole went cautiously forward +and sought out Fessenden.</p> + +<p>“The wind is slack, and the engine seems to be out of order,” explained +the operative. “I believe somebody is tinkering with it.”</p> + +<p>“Have you learned who owns the yacht?”</p> + +<p>“I’ve made several inquiries, but nobody seems to know. She is +brand-new, as you can see, and this appears to be the first time she +has been anchored here.”</p> + +<p>Cole cast a glance at the queenly craft, its fresh coat of paint +gleaming in the pale autumnal sunlight. After telling Fessenden that he +could take the rest of the afternoon off he went back to Doctor Latham. +The physician, looking fresh and crisp in blue coat and creamy flannel +trousers, sat at the tiller.</p> + +<p>“When do we start?” he inquired anxiously.</p> + +<p>“We’re waiting for the other party to make the first move,” explained +Cole, pointing out the larger boat, easily distinguishable among the +craft of various types that littered the surface of the river.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">246</span></p> + +<p>“Any news of Miss Brownell?”</p> + +<p>“Not a word, doctor. Are you in the mood for a little excitement?”</p> + +<p>The physician said nothing, but his smile and the squaring of his +shoulders spoke more loudly than words. Cole glanced out over the +horizon. A frieze of clouds was creeping up in the south, and a rising +wind rippled the water.</p> + +<p>“I suppose you are armed?” he asked after a while.</p> + +<p>The doctor slapped his hip pocket significantly. “Are we likely to have +a scrap?” he inquired in a tone hinting that the prospect appealed to +him hugely.</p> + +<p>“Quite likely! The rats are scenting danger and crawling into their +hole. We may have to tackle a whole nest of them.”</p> + +<p>The afternoon waned and still they waited. Darkness fell, and a +spanking breeze blew up. At Cole’s suggestion the doctor moved the +motor boat a little closer to the larger craft.</p> + +<p>“They are hoisting the sail,” observed Latham, as he brought the boat +to a stop at a point from which they could watch the yacht without +danger of being seen by its crew. Here and there the black ribbon +of water was broken by twinkling lights. An excursion steamer swept +majestically up the Hudson, with a tail of foaming silver in its wake.</p> + +<p>Presently the yacht moved. The two men in the motor boat waited a while +to give it headway. Then the doctor flipped the wheel, and, with a +gleeful phut-phut, the little boat darted forward. Like an <span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">247</span>animated +thing it skipped giddily across the water, darting in and out among +larger vessels. After a little the sprinkling of boats thinned out, +and they hugged the shore closely, in order to avoid being seen by the +yacht’s crew.</p> + +<p>“Think you can keep her in sight, doctor?” asked Cole, noticing with +concern that the larger boat was gaining speed.</p> + +<p>“Easily,” said the doctor confidently, “unless the motor should start +missing, and there’s little danger of that.”</p> + +<p>They were silent for a time. Cole, sitting close by, watched the intent +look on the doctor’s face as he guided the boat along the curving river +bank. The shore line grew more rugged; here and there earth and sky +melted into a blur. Now and then the lights of a town threw a yellow +sheen over the murky water. At intervals the yacht disappeared from +view behind a jutting tongue of land, but it was never out of sight for +long.</p> + +<p>“Doctor,” said Cole abruptly, “I don’t quite know what to make of you, +but we seem to have one interest in common. Both of us are concerned +over Miss Brownell. I am partly responsible for whatever happens to +her, while you—— But I think you told me that your emotional self is +dead.”</p> + +<p>A queer little chuckle drifted out on the breeze. There was a note of +grim despair in it.</p> + +<p>“Anyhow,” Cole went on, “there is a bond of interest between you and +me for the present. Seems we ought to understand each other a little +better. The other night, when I trailed the hunchback to your house and +later found him asleep on the operating <span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">248</span>table, your conduct was as +mysterious as the deuce. What had happened?”</p> + +<p>The doctor, one hand on the tiller, gazed rigidly out over the black +water to where the gray blur of a sail was visible against the darkness.</p> + +<p>“The thing which we call human intelligence is only a thin veneer,” he +remarked in whimsical tones. “Sometimes only a slight thrust is needed +to break through it. It is very amusing to watch the antics that a +supposedly sane being will perform when a crisis of some sort comes +along and gives him a jolt. My own part in this affair is an example +of what happens when the veneer of intelligence cracks. You would not +believe me if I were to tell you, so what is the use?”</p> + +<p>“You might try,” suggested Cole. The doctor had been a changed man +since he learned that Miss Brownell was in danger. Before that he had +been all subterfuge, evasions, and bewildering subtleties. Now Cole +felt that he was face to face with the man’s real self.</p> + +<p>“The hunchback came to my house that night to dispatch me to a better +world,” Latham said.</p> + +<p>“He had just performed a similar service for Malcolm Reeves,” Cole +observed.</p> + +<p>“He had orders to get me, too. The gang feared both of us, and they had +come to a pass where they couldn’t afford to stand on ceremony. Well, +that night I heard some one getting in the basement way. That’s the +advantage of being a light sleeper. I collared the fellow as he came up +the stairs. Not knowing what to do with him I gave <span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">249</span>him a hypodermic to +keep him quiet. Then you came and complicated the situation.”</p> + +<p>“If the hunchback came to your house to murder you,” said Cole +doubtfully, “why didn’t you turn him over to the police?”</p> + +<p>The doctor chuckled softly. “That shows how incongruously we sometimes +act, strutting around like hens with their heads chopped off. Your own +conduct was very peculiar that night. I was wondering why, instead of +handcuffing the culprit to my operating table, you didn’t telephone for +the police wagon.”</p> + +<p>“I had a reason.”</p> + +<p>“And so did I.” The doctor chuckled again. “At least I thought I had +a sound reason for my conduct. As a matter of fact my reason was at a +standstill; no doubt yours was likewise. At any rate I didn’t dare hand +the fellow over to the police. Certain things had happened that made it +undesirable for me to communicate with the authorities.”</p> + +<p>“The operation on Reeves?” Cole suggested.</p> + +<p>Again a queer little laugh drifted out on the wind. Cole suddenly +sat erect, gazing hard at the shadowy figure beside him. A shaft +of intuition had suddenly pierced the fog of contradictions and +incongruities in his mind.</p> + +<p>“There were two operations, weren’t there?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“That’s a very shrewd deduction,” declared the doctor, raising his +voice above the roar of the wind. “There were two. I performed one +of them. I strongly suspect that Ballinger performed the other. <span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">250</span>The +interesting point about them is that there is an official record of the +first, but none of the second.”</p> + +<p>For a moment Cole peered sharply ahead. The yacht was momentarily out +of sight, but he caught a glimpse of it again, as they rounded a curve +in the river bank.</p> + +<p>“Go on,” he said. “You were involved with this golden coterie, weren’t +you?”</p> + +<p>“For a time. I thought they were engaged in strictly scientific and +legitimate pursuits. I had known Carmody for some time, as a quiet and +scholarly man. It was through him I became connected with the group. +For a time all went well. My specialized training helped them solve two +or three minor technical problems that came up in connection with their +experiments.”</p> + +<p>“Then one evening Carmody telephoned me that an accident had occurred +at his house on Bleecker Street. He asked me to come over at once. +When I arrived he told me that Malcolm Reeves, who was visiting him +that evening, had stumbled and fallen down the stairs. My examination +revealed a compound fracture and convinced me that the pressure of the +bones against the brain made an immediate operation necessary.”</p> + +<p>“I had Reeves removed to the nearest hospital. It happened to be one of +the smaller private ones. I was assisted by a nurse. She was a little +nervous, and I could see that she was new at the game, but at first I +thought nothing of it, not until I discovered that there was something +wrong with the anæsthetic. She had blundered in administering it. I +shudder whenever I think of the result. Perhaps <span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">251</span>you can realize +something of what it means to have a patient awake in the midst of an +operation.”</p> + +<p>“Did Reeves see you?” asked Cole suddenly.</p> + +<p>The tiller wabbled for a moment in Latham’s hand. “He not only saw me, +but he recognized me. I shall never forget the expression on his face. +It was horrible! Well, luckily there were no serious consequences. +After a while Reeves was brought under the anæsthetic again, and the +operation was successfully finished. In due time he was taken to his +home. To this day I don’t know whether Carmody told me the truth and +the injury was accidental, or whether some one deliberately inflicted +it.”</p> + +<p>“Couldn’t you tell from the nature of the wound?”</p> + +<p>“Not with any degree of positiveness. I suspect some one tried to +murder him that night, but failed. Perhaps the assassin lost his nerve. +Carmody didn’t dare to have Reeves die on his hands, and so he sent for +me. I do know that Reeves had been troublesome toward the last, and +that the other members of the gang were afraid of him. They had ample +reason for wishing him out of the way, or at least rendered harmless.”</p> + +<p>“And so they performed a second operation that destroyed his memory?” +guessed Cole.</p> + +<p>“Presumably, but that’s only a surmise on my part. Reeves recuperated +very rapidly after the first operation. One evening, shortly after he +became able to move about, he started out on a mysterious errand. He +never returned, and the police found no trace of him. About the same +time I <span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">252</span>began to grow suspicious in regard to the activities of the +gang. I had no tangible proof, but it was my strong impression that +their aims were not strictly legitimate.”</p> + +<p>“Isn’t anybody entitled to make all the gold he wants to, if he’s lucky +enough to know how?”</p> + +<p>“That’s just the point. Carmody assured me he had discovered a process +whereby real gold could be produced synthetically. It would not only +look like gold, he told me, but it would assay up to the required +standard when turned over to the government mints. Carmody put it so +convincingly that at the time I believed him, especially when he showed +me samples. Later I began to have grave suspicions. Certain things +led me to doubt that the gang had sufficient faith in its products to +turn it over to the government in the form of bullion. In short, I had +reason to believe that I was involved in a huge counterfeiting project.”</p> + +<p>“What!” exclaimed Cole. The doctor’s revelation went beyond what he had +learned from The Unknown Seven.</p> + +<p>“To eliminate all risk the gang decided to take a short cut,” Latham +went on. “Instead of taking the gold to Uncle Sam’s mint they set up +a mint of their own. In a short time the country will be flooded with +spurious gold coins that are practically indistinguishable from the +real.”</p> + +<p>“And you have kept silent all this time?”</p> + +<p>“What did I tell you about the fragile quality of our veneer of +intelligence? I went to Carmody’s house and told him of my suspicions. +The old fox said nothing for a time, but merely smiled that <span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">253</span>freezing +smile of his. Then he took me to a small room on the second floor. +There sat Reeves, a gibbering maniac. Carmody bluntly accused me of +having performed the operation that deprived him of his reason and +smoothly suggested that it might be well for me to keep my suspicions +to myself.”</p> + +<p>“Carmody went on talking, mentioning among other things that it was +on record that I had performed an operation on Reeves’ skull. Call me +a simpleton if you like, but the professor’s words sank in. I guessed +that a second operation had been performed under cover of the original +one, but I had no means of proving it. I could see nothing but ruin +and disaster ahead. The only one who had witnessed my operation was +the nurse, and I could expect no help from her. I argued and argued +with myself, but, in the end, I decided to say nothing, at least for a +time. Sooner or later I suppose I should have spoken, but just then I +played the coward’s part. I was very neatly caught. In what was left of +Reeves’ mind was a picture of myself, as he had seen me when he woke +up in the midst of the operation. Occasionally, when the recollection +came back to him, he would shriek my name. The second operation, on the +other hand, had been performed under circumstances so deftly arranged +that they had left no impression whatever. There, my friend, you have +the whole story. Sounds like a travesty, eh? I shan’t feel at all hurt +if you refuse to believe me.”</p> + +<p>Cole had no reason to doubt him. What Latham had told him coincided at +various points of contact with what he had learned at the headquarters +of The <span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">254</span>Unknown Seven. He could piece out the rest. Agents of The +Unknown Seven had kidnaped Reeves from the Carmody residence and taken +him to headquarters. There he had been placed under Doctor Ballinger’s +care, and Ballinger had gone through with the pretense of trying to +restore Reeves’ mental functions. Only one contradiction remained. +Since Reeves was in the hands of a physician who was friendly to the +gang and could be depended upon to destroy any symptoms of returning +sanity in Reeves, why had it been thought necessary to kill him? +Ballinger himself evidently shrank from such a coarse crime as murder. +He must have had several chances to kill Reeves by safe and subtle +means, and yet the hunchback had been commissioned to do the crime. Why +had Reeves been killed?</p> + +<p>For a while the answer to that question eluded Cole. Then he recalled +something Carlin had told him. After Reeves had been under Ballinger’s +care for a time, without showing any signs of improvement, it had been +suggested that he should be removed to a hospital and a consulting +physician called in. Evidently Ballinger had seen a danger to himself +in that suggestion, and so the murder had been decided upon.</p> + +<p>“I have no reason to doubt you,” Cole said. “I don’t know but what I +would have acted pretty much the same if I had been in your place. I +think, though, that you have done a lot of needless worrying. Ballinger +is not at all confident of being able to fasten the second operation on +you.”</p> + +<p>“How is that?” asked Latham quickly.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">255</span></p> + +<p>“I can’t tell you, but I have every reason to believe that Ballinger +is afraid of what an autopsy on the body might show. Not being a +scientific man I can’t grasp the details. All I know is that Ballinger +is so anxious to prevent an autopsy that he is having the body spirited +away.”</p> + +<p>Latham’s hand left the tiller, and the boat lurched dangerously. In a +moment he had regained control of it.</p> + +<p>“Unless I am a very poor guesser,” Cole went on, “the body is on the +yacht ahead of us. They are taking it to a place where it can be safely +destroyed. It’s hard to do such things in the city.”</p> + +<p>Latham stared at him speechlessly through the dusk. The wind had +increased, and the waves were swishing and churning against the bow of +the little craft.</p> + +<p>“It may be Ballinger is suffering from an uneasy conscience,” the +doctor murmured. “That’s one of the things that happen when the veneer +of intelligence cracks. Conscience makes a man do queer things. +However, if your guess is right——”</p> + +<p>He stopped short, at the same time peering sharply ahead. Suddenly his +hand went out, and the chugging of the motor ceased.</p> + +<p>“The chase is over,” he said.</p> + +<p>Cole followed his glance. The yacht, with sails lowered, was turning +into a small inlet.</p> + +<p>“And here is where the excitement begins,” he declared.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">256</span> +<h2 id="chap_XXI">CHAPTER XXI</h2> +<div class="subheadc">THE FACE AT THE WINDOW</div> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">WHILE Doctor Latham fastened the boat, Cole’s eyes swept the black +masses of wooded hills that slanted upward at a sharp angle from the +river bank. At the apex of the tallest peak a light gleamed, but +otherwise there was no sign of human habitation on this side of the +river. The lights of a town twinkled across the foaming welter of +waves, and they helped Cole to fix their location. They were in one +of the wildest and most rugged sections of Dutchess County. The peak, +on which the solitary light shone, had once been a popular pleasure +resort, and in the old days a cable railway had carried week-end +excursionists to the top. Of late, what with the dry era and the +public’s fickle fancy, the place had lost its popularity, and the +buildings on the peak were falling into decay. The ruggedly romantic +setting seemed an ideal one for the kind of adventure Cole anticipated.</p> + +<p>With the doctor at his heels, he moved cautiously toward the point +where the yacht had anchored a short distance ahead. Of a sudden they +stopped. The crack of a pistol rose sharply above the whine of the wind.</p> + +<p>“Only a signal, I think,” said Cole, after waiting tensely for a few +moments.</p> + +<p>They advanced a little farther, then stopped on a slight elevation from +which they had an unobstructed <span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">257</span>view of the yacht. In the lights from +the craft they saw a number of men going ashore, and several of them +were carrying a bulky object. Their faces were not recognizable at that +distance, but Cole thought there were about a dozen in all.</p> + +<p>“We may have quite a lively tussle,” he observed in an undertone. “I +could have brought a few helpers along, but safety doesn’t always lie +in numbers.”</p> + +<p>“I like this better,” said Latham. “If there were more of us there +might not be enough thrills to go around. Where are we?”</p> + +<p>“That place, up there in the clouds, where you see the light, is called +Dutchess Point. I believe there is a car coming down. That’s probably +what the pistol shot meant.”</p> + +<p>A light was treading its way in a zigzagging course down the side of +the hill. Soon were heard the chugging of motors and the metallic snarl +of brakes. The two men waited until the car reached the group that had +come off the yacht. As soon as the loaded vehicle started to retread +its path up the hill they followed. It proved a hard climb, and they +reached the top a full half hour behind the car.</p> + +<p>The apex was composed mostly of huge flat rock, with here and there a +few scrawny trees. There were half a dozen buildings scattered about, +and in the largest one several lights had appeared by the time the two +climbers reached the top. They stood in a dark spot behind a little +cluster of starving hemlocks. No one was in sight, but the sound of +voices drifted out to them through the open windows of the large +building.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">258</span></p> + +<p>“Hear that noise?” whispered Latham. “What do you suppose it is?”</p> + +<p>Cole listened. A gentle, rhythmic whirring was heard. He looked down at +his feet, for it seemed to come from underground.</p> + +<p>“Machinery,” he said, and suddenly he remembered the words spoken by +Malcolm Reeves in his insane glee: “Yellow—pretty yellow.” The whirring +noise that he heard, as he stood there under the hemlocks, brought them +back to his mind.</p> + +<p>“Look!” said Latham suddenly.</p> + +<p>Cole, following his pointing finger, glanced upward. The large +building, he now noticed, was equipped with a high tower, and near its +top a light had appeared in the last few moments. At the lighted window +a face was dimly discernible. Cole strained his eyes at the point of +illumination, and suddenly he gripped his companion’s arm.</p> + +<p>“It’s a woman, Latham!”</p> + +<p>The doctor gasped. “It must be Miss Brownell, then!”</p> + +<p>The two men continued staring upward. Their imaginations touched up the +dim and remote picture which they saw with their eyes. The face was +very white, thought Cole, and the eyes held a look of terror. She was +looking downward; their glances met somewhere in mid-air, and yet she +appeared not to see the two watchers below.</p> + +<p>“What shall we do?” asked Latham.</p> + +<p>“You stay here,” said Cole. “I’m going to look around a bit.”</p> + +<p>He slipped away among the trees, avoiding the open space in front +of the building. The tower <span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">259</span>was in the rear, overlooking the steep +incline, and he moved in that direction. He looked up a sheer wall +to where the light shone. To climb up there was out of the question, +for the blank wall offered no hold for either hands or feet. He moved +cautiously toward the front entrance. For a moment he listened outside +the sagging door, then boldly pushed it open and entered.</p> + +<p>He was in a dark corridor. Under one of the doors at the side was a +thin wedge of light. A number of voices issued from it; evidently a +conference of some kind was in progress. Knowing that the stairway +leading to the tower must be in that direction, Cole tiptoed farther +down the hall. A bold and reckless move, he had learned from +experience, was often more effective than a thought-out plan. Before he +could do anything else Miss Brownell must be rescued. His hands were +tied, as long as she was held as a hostage by the gang. Once she was +out of harm’s way he could proceed against them as ruthlessly as he +pleased.</p> + +<p>He came to the end of the hall, and there he brought up against another +door. He opened it, almost sure that it must lead to the stairs, but +instead he found himself in a large, square room. A small electric +bulb glowed in the ceiling, and in its light he caught a glimpse of a +forbidding figure guarding a door at the farther side. The sentinel was +thickset and broad-shouldered. His bushy brows seemed top-heavy for his +very small eyes which glared out at Cole in a startled way.</p> + +<p>“Stop right where you are!” he commanded, at the same instant reaching +for his hip pocket. As <span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">260</span>his fingers closed around the handle of an +automatic, Cole lunged forward. His fist landed with explosive force in +the man’s face, and he fell to the ground without a sound.</p> + +<p>“Sorry, old top, but it had to be done,” Cole told the insensible man, +as he opened the door which the fellow had been guarding. Before him +was a winding stairway that seemed to extend upward interminably. Very +quickly Cole lifted the man through the door and stretched him out +along the steps, then drew the door to.</p> + +<p>He hurried up the stairs. The long ascent would have exhausted a weaker +man, but Cole’s lungs and muscles were in the pink of condition. At +length, panting a little, he reached the top. Before him was a door. He +rapped, and footfalls crossed the floor within.</p> + +<p>“Who’s there?” demanded a voice which he recognized as Miss Brownell’s. +It sounded a bit lofty, pathetically so, he thought.</p> + +<p>“Cole,” he replied.</p> + +<p>“Oh!” The exclamation was more a sigh of relief. “But I can’t let you +in. The door is locked, and I have no key.”</p> + +<p>“I might have known it,” muttered Cole. The space between the door +and the wall of the tower was very narrow. Bracing his back against +the wall he placed his feet on the door and shoved steadily. It was +of stout material, but at length it gave with an abruptness that +precipitated him to the floor. Quickly he picked himself up.</p> + +<p>The girl rushed toward him. There was an <span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">261</span>excited flush which +surmounted the white of her face. “I am so glad——” she began.</p> + +<p>“You were foolish,” Cole sternly interrupted. “You shouldn’t have +started after Ballinger alone. That’s no job for a woman. What +happened?”</p> + +<p>“Ballinger was too clever for me,” she confessed. “The moment I thought +I had him I was shoved into a car, blindfolded, and—— Well, that’s +about all I know. When I opened my eyes the next morning I found myself +here.”</p> + +<p>“How have they treated you?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, very well, suspiciously well. I have been told that prisoners who +are doomed to die always get the best of everything. Mr. Cole, you have +thrown a full-sized scare into the gang. I heard a couple of the men +talking outside my door this morning. I suppose they felt sure I would +never have a chance to repeat what I heard. They said——”</p> + +<p>“Not so loud!” admonished Cole.</p> + +<p>“I gathered from what they said,” she went on in a whisper, “that the +leaders of the gang are badly frightened. They seem to think you are +hot on their trail.”</p> + +<p>“They’re mistaken,” declared Cole modestly. “I’ve barely got started as +yet.”</p> + +<p>“Well, all the same they are very much worried. Their plan, as one of +the men put it, is to make a swift clean-up and a quick get-away. Some +one, whom they called ‘the big chief,’ was to come out here to-night.”</p> + +<p>“About a dozen men arrived a little while ago,” <span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">262</span>Cole informed her. “No +doubt the chief was among them. Do you know who he is?”</p> + +<p>“No. He wasn’t referred to by name in the conversation which I +overheard. I am sure, though, that Doctor Latham isn’t the man. In fact +I never really thought so. More of my woman’s intuition, I suppose.”</p> + +<p>“What else did the men say?” he asked in a whisper.</p> + +<p>“They said there is about half a billion dollars’ worth of gold ready +to be minted. I didn’t quite understand what they meant by that. There +is a complete set of machinery hidden somewhere about the place, and it +is running at full capacity.”</p> + +<p>“I should think the comings and goings of the gang would excite the +curiosity of the townspeople across the river.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, they’ve managed that part very cleverly by circulating a report +to the effect that the buildings are being renovated and that Dutchess +Point is to be reopened as a pleasure resort next spring. In fact, they +have put a crew of carpenters, roadmakers and gardeners to work on the +place. Just for a blind, of course. It seems they haven’t neglected a +single precaution. Yet they seem to be worried over something.”</p> + +<p>“Excellent! When your enemy is worried, you have an advantage over him. +What seems to be the trouble?”</p> + +<p>“I couldn’t quite make out. All I heard was a few scattered remarks. It +appears they are having some difficulty with the gold-making process. +There seems to be a minor flaw in the product, <span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">263</span>due to the absence of +something which they refer as the seventh ingredient. I haven’t the +least idea what it is, but it seems to be related to the experimental +work Doctor Latham conducted before he severed his connection with the +gang. They appear to think that he could solve their difficulty if he +was so inclined.”</p> + +<p>“By supplying the formula for the seventh ingredient?”</p> + +<p>“Something like that. Anyway, that was the impression I received. +Evidently the missing ingredient isn’t of very great importance, but +they want to make the product as perfect as possible.”</p> + +<p>“For the sake of safety in minting and circulating it, I suppose,” +said Cole thoughtfully. “Apparently Latham left them at an inopportune +time from their point of view. Doubtless they would exert any manner +of pressure on him in order to make him divulge the secret of this +so-called seventh ingredient.”</p> + +<p>“I doubt if they would succeed.”</p> + +<p>“So do I,” said Cole, looking curiously at the girl. “Latham is a +fighter clean through, and he is a match for them. By the way, he came +out with me this evening.”</p> + +<p>She caught her breath and fixed her wide, troubled eyes on his face.</p> + +<p>“Doctor Latham here?” she murmured. “Did he volunteer to come with you?”</p> + +<p>“I invited him to come, and he jumped at the invitation. I foresaw that +he would prove useful, and he was doubly anxious to come when I hinted +that our expedition to-night might reveal your <span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">264</span>whereabouts. Your +disappearance came as a great shock to him.”</p> + +<p>“Then you no longer think he is implicated with these scoundrels?”</p> + +<p>“No, I don’t. He was with them until he saw that their aims were +crooked, and then he got out as best he could. Latham has acted +foolishly, but that’s all. The scientific side of these experiments +appealed to the scholar in him. I don’t think he was ever moved by +greed. No, Latham wasn’t to be blamed. Whenever a man is in love he is +apt to make a fool of himself.”</p> + +<p>She lowered her eyes. “Doctor Latham is a good man,” she said tensely. +“I wish I could——” A gentle sigh escaped her.</p> + +<p>“I understand,” murmured Cole. “Life is a bit of a tangle, isn’t it? +Even the logical mind of a scholar isn’t able to steer clear of the +meshes when a charming woman is involved. One never knows——”</p> + +<p>He paused, threw a quick glance at the door, then looked at Miss +Brownell, noting the tensity that had suddenly crept into her face. +In an instant his automatic was in his hand, and he tiptoed softly to +the door. Holding it open a crack, he heard unmistakably the sounds of +footsteps coming up the stairs.</p> + +<p>“Stand back!” he ordered curtly. “Some one’s coming!”</p> + +<p>But the girl, smiling faintly, signified with a shrug that she intended +to remain where she was.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">265</span> +<h2 id="chap_XXII">CHAPTER XXII</h2> +<div class="subheadc">A DUEL OF WITS</div> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">COLE opened the door a trifle wider. The footfalls, furtive and +hesitant, sounded as if several men were coming up the protesting +stairs. He fancied there were many others below who were ready to jump +into the fight if he should be successful in disposing of the ones now +approaching. His mind worked with lightning speed as he turned away +from the door.</p> + +<p>The room, hexagonal in shape, with a tall window at each angle, was +lighted from a tarnished brass fixture at one side. While watching +the light from the outside, Cole had noticed that from the windows to +the ground was a sheer drop of one hundred and fifty feet, so escape +in that direction was impossible. The walls, covered with once gaudy +paper that was now faded and torn, seemed to offer no loophole. The +unswept floor was cluttered with pieces of dilapidated furniture of +a kind which suggested that the room had once served as a rendezvous +for gamblers. The single door was the only exit, and flight in that +direction was cut off by the men now creeping up the stairs. As nearly +as Cole could determine from the sounds, they were as yet only halfway +up. For an instant his thoughts flew to Doctor Latham, and he wondered +if the physician was still waiting for him outside.</p> + +<p>He stepped quickly toward the girl. “Talk,” he whispered, “talk about +anything.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">266</span></p> + +<p>She took her cue with a comprehending nod, and Cole hastened back to +the door.</p> + +<p>“But I don’t know, so how can I tell you?” she asked in a tone whose +naturalness instantly won his approval. He was quick to follow up her +lead.</p> + +<p>“You have no idea who the leader of these cutthroats is?” he asked in a +slightly nettled tone.</p> + +<p>“None whatever.”</p> + +<p>He listened for a moment. The footsteps were coming gradually closer. +When he spoke again, he threw his voice so that it sounded as if coming +from the center of the room, a ventriloquial trick he had practiced +when a boy and often found useful.</p> + +<p>“You have been here a good many hours,” he pointed out. “I thought you +might have overheard something that gave you a clew.”</p> + +<p>“You forget that I have been locked up in this room all the time.”</p> + +<p>“That’s so,” Cole admitted, tightening his grip on his automatic. The +footfalls on the stairs had ceased. Evidently the persons who were +approaching had stopped to listen to the conversation. “You haven’t +seen any one who looks as if he might be the boss of the outfit?”</p> + +<p>“No one,” she declared convincingly. “So far I have come in contact +only with underlings. The man higher up, whoever he is, has remained in +the background. Of course, I could make a guess.”</p> + +<p>“Let’s hear it.”</p> + +<p>“Doctor Latham.”</p> + +<p>Cole smiled. It was an excellent bit of strategy, and he was confident +that the men below had heard. <span class="pagenum" id="Page_267">267</span>Her cleverly simulated suspicion in +regard to the physician was well calculated to deceive them in regard +to the extent and accuracy of her information.</p> + +<p>“You may be right,” he said thoughtfully just as the footsteps began to +move upward again, and once more his voice sounded as if coming from +the interior of the room. “I’ve had my eyes on the doctor myself. He is +a sly bird, but I’m not sure that his cranium is the adequate size for +a job of this kind. However he will bear watching. But we’re wasting +time. The first thing to do is to get you safely out of this nest of +crooks. I think the way is clear, but we must——”</p> + +<p>“You’re a little bit slow,” said a voice, and the door came open, +admitting a stocky individual with a leveled automatic. He came +straight forward, stopping bewilderedly as he saw only the girl, and +in that instant Cole reached out behind him, seized him firmly by the +neck and, swinging him backward with a powerful sweep, slammed his head +against the wall. With a fragmentary cry the man went lurching to the +floor, and in almost the same instant Cole whirled round and struck +his companion a vigorous blow with the butt of his pistol. The fellow +dropped like a dead-weight.</p> + +<p>“Two of them!” exclaimed Cole, feeling quite elated at the success of +his ruse. “Where’s the third?”</p> + +<p>Miss Brownell, breathing rapidly, looked hard at the door. Cole glanced +out, but there was neither sign nor sound of movement on the stairs.</p> + +<p>“I thought there were several of them,” he muttered. <span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">268</span>“Must have been +mistaken. Sounds are deceptive, you know. This may come in handy.”</p> + +<p>He stooped, picked up the weapon dropped by his second adversary, +and handed it to Miss Brownell. With an expert air she examined the +mechanism, making sure it was loaded.</p> + +<p>“You worked the trick to the queen’s taste, Miss Brownell,” he declared +approvingly. “It was a good piece of work.”</p> + +<p>“But you did it all.”</p> + +<p>“Far from it! I couldn’t have thrown them off their guard if you hadn’t +helped. Do you know,” peering at her curiously, “I was afraid you would +faint, or something like that.”</p> + +<p>She laughed. “You haven’t a very high opinion of our sex, Mr. Cole.”</p> + +<p>“It is rising every moment. We must get away before these rascals come +to. Feel strong enough for a walk?”</p> + +<p>“Just try me! Your exhibition of fisticuffs was so stimulating that I +am ready for anything.”</p> + +<p>“Then let’s start. Latham must be wondering what has become of me.” +With a glance at his fallen foes, Cole started down the stairs, the +girl following. He did not wish to alarm her by voicing his misgivings, +but he was far from certain that they would reach the bottom without +an interruption. Doubtless the others must be aware by this time that +something was amiss. The burly sentinel he had knocked down at the foot +of the stairs had probably either recovered consciousness or been found +by his accomplices. In either event, their path was beset by perils.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_269">269</span></p> + +<p>Pistol in one hand, Cole proceeded cautiously down the stairs. They +were dark, and the constant winding made progress difficult. He had +discovered that Miss Brownell was brave and resourceful, but he would +breathe more easily when he had got her out of harm’s way.</p> + +<p>They reached another turn, and suddenly the girl stumbled and lurched +violently against him.</p> + +<p>“Ouch!” she moaned, trying to repress an exclamation of pain. “My +ankle! I think I twisted it.”</p> + +<p>Cole cursed softly as he gathered her in his arms. Her figure was +writhing in the throes of physical distress.</p> + +<p>“As I told you once before,” she complained mockingly, trying to make +light of the injury, “you are not at all gallant. Almost any other man +would have welcomed the chance.”</p> + +<p>Cole muttered something under his breath. A dislocated ankle +complicated a situation that was already critical enough, but the +girl’s superb behavior stirred him to unwilling admiration. His fears +were all for her, not for himself. He was almost at the foot of the +stairs now. If he could only get her safely out of the building and +place her in Doctor Latham’s care. If only——</p> + +<p>Abruptly he stopped before a door. With his burden in his arms he had +reached the foot of the stairs. For a moment he stopped and listened, +but all seemed quiet on the other side. An involuntary moan of pain +told that Miss Brownell was suffering intensely. Balancing her on his +shoulder he reached out a hand and pushed the door open.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_270">270</span></p> + +<p>Instantly he felt a premonition that something was wrong. The sentry, +whom he had left unconscious at the door before ascending to the tower, +was no longer there. He started to draw back, but it was too late. A +shadow leaped swiftly across the path of light in front of the open +door. A hand clutching a bludgeon was raised to strike. Cole, with +the girl on his shoulder, could not dodge the blow. It caught him +squarely on the jaw, and the terrific impact sent him reeling against +the stairs. The girl slipped away from him, and in his last conscious +moment he tried to ease her fall.</p> + +<p>“I take it all back,” she whispered in his ear, her bantering tone +edged with pain and anguish. “You—you <i>are</i> gallant, Mr. Cole.”</p> + +<p>But Cole heard nothing.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_271">271</span> +<h2 id="chap_XXIII">CHAPTER XXIII</h2> +<div class="subheadc">THE SEVENTH INGREDIENT</div> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">WHEN, some thirty or forty minutes later, Cole opened his eyes and +fingered his swollen jaw, he found himself sprawling in a chair in +a strange room. In front of him stood Doctor Latham, a humorously +sympathetic look on his face.</p> + +<p>The room, with its faded tawdriness and crumbling decorations, looked +as if it had once been a private dining room. The scratched woodwork +and the liquid stains on the wall paper were reminiscent of hilarious +times. Cole noticed that the two windows were shuttered on the outside.</p> + +<p>“How do you feel?” inquired the physician.</p> + +<p>“As if I was all jaw,” said Cole, opening his eyes a little wider and +gazing stupidly at the doctor. It took him several minutes to recall +that he was still in the big house on Dutchess Point. A rhythmic +vibration that seemed to come from beneath the floor, accompanied by +the remote humming of machinery, brought him back to the present.</p> + +<p>“Why are you here?” he demanded of the physician. “Didn’t I tell you to +stay outside?”</p> + +<p>“So you did, and it was excellent advice, my friend. I wish now I had +heeded it. But I grew impatient and proceeded to find out what had +become of you. All I got for my pains was an ungentle tap in the region +of the occipital bone.”</p> + +<p>With a serio-comic expression the doctor caressed <span class="pagenum" id="Page_272">272</span>the back of his +head. His clothing was rumpled and looked as if he had been dragged +over a dusty floor.</p> + +<p>Again Cole stroked his jaw. “Where is Miss Brownell?” he suddenly asked.</p> + +<p>Latham pointed across the room where, white-faced but smiling, the girl +sat in a chair.</p> + +<p>“I’ve justified my existence at last,” he remarked. “I managed to +straighten out Miss Brownell’s ankle. Didn’t have my kit with me, and I +fear I dealt rather roughly with her. How about it, Miss Brownell?”</p> + +<p>“I hardly felt it,” she assured him. “For a big man, you are gentleness +itself.”</p> + +<p>The physician looked long into her smiling face, and when he turned +away there was a sad, wistful expression in his eyes. Miss Brownell +caught a fleeting glimpse of it, and her face sobered instantly.</p> + +<p>“Cheerful place!” murmured Latham, glancing up at the dilapidated +ceiling. “Anyway, we ought to be thankful that the three of us are +together. Wonder what the amiable ruffians plan to do next. What +happened to you after you left me, Cole?”</p> + +<p>It took Cole some little time to remember, but at length he gave the +doctor a brief summary of the episode in the tower, ending with the +unexpected attack that had left him with a swollen jaw. The doctor +seemed amused.</p> + +<p>“Laid them both out, eh?” he said with a chuckle. “Good work, Cole. +I believe you could manage a massacre all by yourself if you had the +chance.”</p> + +<p>“The chance may come sooner than we think,” said Cole dryly, with a +glance at the door. “Miss <span class="pagenum" id="Page_273">273</span>Brownell told me some of the things she has +learned during her term of imprisonment here. It seems we have one +advantage, doctor.”</p> + +<p>“What’s that?”</p> + +<p>“The seventh ingredient.”</p> + +<p>A thin smile parted the physician’s lips. “That’s so. I’d forgotten +about that. It’s a minor detail I worked out independently. Professor +Carmody made several attempts to make me reveal the secret of it, but +I refused. You see, by that time I had discovered that the scheme was +crooked, and I would have nothing more to do with the gang. However, +the seventh ingredient, as they call it, isn’t of great importance. Its +value is almost nil.”</p> + +<p>“But they seem to think otherwise.”</p> + +<p>“They are mistaken, and naturally so. I was mistaken myself for +a while. I exaggerated the importance of the so-called seventh +ingredient. Afterward, when I knew better, I saw no reason why I should +put them right.”</p> + +<p>“Glad you didn’t, Latham. As long as they are laboring under a +misapprehension, we have an advantage over them.”</p> + +<p>“How is that?”</p> + +<p>“They think you have something that they want. The fact that they are +mistaken makes no difference. As matters stand at present, you are in a +position to bargain with them.”</p> + +<p>“Bargain over what?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, several things.” Cole stepped a little closer to him and spoke in +an undertone. “Miss Brownell’s safety, for instance.”</p> + +<p>Latham’s brows went up. “Of course!” he murmured. <span class="pagenum" id="Page_274">274</span>“I’m a bit dull +to-night. Glad you have your thinking cap on, Cole. The amiable +ruffians will be given to understand that I refuse to discuss the +seventh ingredient until Miss Brownell is at a safe distance. After +that nothing will matter. Smoke?”</p> + +<p>Cole helped himself to a cigarette from the physician’s case, slanting +a quick glance in the girl’s direction as he lighted it. She looked +both puzzled and amused.</p> + +<p>“Were you saying something I was not supposed to hear?” she inquired.</p> + +<p>The question remained unanswered, for just then the door opened, and +the gaunt, frock-coated figure of Professor Carmody strutted into the +room. In his hand was an automatic, which he managed very cautiously, +and his shrunken face was all smiles.</p> + +<p>“Hello, Cole,” he chirped gleefully. “Good evening, Miss Brownell. How +are you, doctor? Glad to see you all here.” He chuckled wheezily and +rubbed his bony hands with their talonlike fingers. “Too bad you didn’t +follow my advice the other day, Latham. You would have escaped a lot of +trouble if you had been sensible.”</p> + +<p>“Go to blazes,” said the doctor contemptuously, advancing a step toward +Carmody.</p> + +<p>The pistol came upward in the professor’s hand. “Don’t move,” he +warned. “And it won’t do either of you any good to reach for your +weapons. They were removed while you were—ahem—incapacitated. We object +to rowdyism in this place. Our leader is a peaceful man and does not +like disturbances. Cole, you have caused us a lot of embarrassment, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_275">275</span>and see what it has led you to. I believe our last meeting took place +in room 2512, the Security Building.”</p> + +<p>Cole made a wry face as he recalled how the professor had tricked him. +“You were a bit too clever for me that time, Carmody,” he admitted.</p> + +<p>The professor gave a cackling, complacent laugh. “Even an old man like +me must have his little jokes,” he remarked, still adhering to his +ludicrous habit of raising and dropping his voice on almost every other +word. “I’ll wager you don’t know even now what my object was. Eh, Cole?”</p> + +<p>Cole measured him with a cool glance. “I think I do,” he declared +quietly. “The body of Reeves was in the safe. Members of your +illustrious gang had removed it from its former place and put it there. +One of my men learned what the safe contained, and he paid with his +life for his discovery. Later you dropped in to see that everything was +in readiness to sneak the safe and its contents out of town.”</p> + +<p>“You are a very shrewd guesser, Mr. Cole. It is a matter of keen regret +to me that one of such fine intellect must be on the wrong side of this +situation. As for the body of Reeves, it will very soon be reduced to a +handful of fine dust. The process will be scientific in every respect. +Nothing coarse or gruesome, you understand. We couldn’t have disposed +of it satisfactorily in the city. It would have been too dangerous. +But that isn’t what I came in here to talk about. Doctor Latham, you +were once a friend of mine, and in the beginning of this enterprise +you gave us several valuable hints. <span class="pagenum" id="Page_276">276</span>For the last time I ask you to be +reasonable. It is your last chance.”</p> + +<p>“And if I refuse?”</p> + +<p>The professor screwed his face into a melancholy expression. “In that +event you, too, will soon be only a handful of dust.”</p> + +<p>“Even so I will have the advantage over you, professor. When your end +comes there won’t be enough dust to make a thimbleful. I hope I make my +meaning clear?”</p> + +<p>“You will not reconsider your decision?”</p> + +<p>“No!” declared Latham explosively.</p> + +<p>“Not even in order to save the life of this charming young lady?” +Carmody turned his beatifically smiling face toward Miss Brownell.</p> + +<p>A pallor crept up under the doctor’s eyes. He stared with a horrified +expression at the professor.</p> + +<p>“You mean that——”</p> + +<p>“Precisely, my dear doctor. The young lady is dangerous to us. +Under the circumstances the law of self-preservation demands that +she be rendered harmless, and the only effective way of doing that +is to remove her from this sad world. However, in appreciation of +the services you once rendered us, she shall be spared if you will +reconsider your decision.”</p> + +<p>The doctor appeared to hesitate. His eyes, full of tenderness, were +fixed on Miss Brownell. Cole could see that he pretended to be +wavering. Then the girl spoke.</p> + +<p>“Doctor Latham has decided,” she declared in a clear, calm voice. “He +is not the type of man who bargains with blackguards. I wouldn’t permit +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_277">277</span>it, even if he were so inclined. Go away!” she added, turning her +eyes, full of cold contempt, on the professor.</p> + +<p>Carmody winced beneath her scornful gaze. For a moment he plucked +nervously at the lapel of his coat. Then, with a soft chuckle that +sounded diabolical to the other three in the room, he turned to the +doctor.</p> + +<p>“The young lady has spoken,” he remarked. “I’m afraid her pretty head +is full of silly notions. Youth is always like that. You are older and +wiser, Latham. What do you say?”</p> + +<p>The doctor regarded him calculatingly. “Just what do you want, Carmody?”</p> + +<p>“Ah, that’s better! Getting down to terms, eh? I see I was not mistaken +in relying on your common sense. You know what I want, doctor. It is +something we have discussed before. Miss Brownell and Mr. Cole will not +understand what I mean, but it has something to do with the seventh +ingredient.”</p> + +<p>Latham nodded. “Thought so. Very curious on that point, aren’t you, +professor? I used all my spare time during three or four months working +out that interesting angle. It was quite fascinating, I assure you. Do +you know, professor, I sometimes wonder if the late lamented Doctor +Price was not about two hundred years ahead of his time? From the very +beginning of our experiments I suspected that Doctor Price’s secret—the +secret which he never divulged—was a sort of electronic reaction +applied to chemical compounds. When I <span class="pagenum" id="Page_278">278</span>learned how to use that reaction +in the process we had under way, my problem was solved.”</p> + +<p>Carmody regarded him narrowly. “The electron wasn’t known in Doctor +Price’s day.”</p> + +<p>“And that’s why I say he was about two centuries ahead of his time. +At any rate, I am satisfied he stumbled upon something which closely +resembles our modern discoveries. Nothing else explains the marvelous +achievement that he took with him to his grave.”</p> + +<p>“And you claim to have resurrected his discovery, Latham?”</p> + +<p>“I am not in the habit of making claims,” said the doctor modestly, +with an air of mysteriousness that was well calculated to impress +Carmody. “I prefer to let facts speak for themselves.”</p> + +<p>Carmody pondered, his sharp, greedy little eyes wandering from one face +in the group to another.</p> + +<p>“You made memoranda of your experiments, of course?”</p> + +<p>“Naturally.”</p> + +<p>“Where are your notes?”</p> + +<p>Latham smiled blandly. “In two places. Here,” tapping his head, “I +carry the whole process. My written memoranda are in a safe place, a +place which I shan’t divulge to you until you have given us reasonable +guarantees in regard to our safety.”</p> + +<p>Professor Carmody scowled. “You are hardly in a position to dictate +terms.”</p> + +<p>“Do as you like,” said Latham with a shrug. “If you reject my +conditions, I shall follow Doctor Price’s example and take my little +secret with me to my grave.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_279">279</span></p> + +<p>“And what about Miss Brownell?”</p> + +<p>The physician winced, but before he could answer the girl spoke for +herself.</p> + +<p>“Don’t mind me,” she said spiritedly. “Doctor Latham, why don’t you +tell the professor that he is beneath contempt?”</p> + +<p>Carmody turned his head and regarded her with a look of lofty disdain. +“Haughty little devil!” he muttered under his breath, then faced +the physician again. “Well, Latham, what would you call reasonable +guarantees?”</p> + +<p>“Cole and myself will remain here for the present. As far as Miss +Brownell is concerned, I’ll be satisfied when she telephones me from +her home in town that she has arrived there safely. Does that strike +you as reasonable, Cole?”</p> + +<p>“Perfectly.”</p> + +<p>Carmody scratched his jaw perplexedly. “It is a very difficult +situation. I shall refer it to the leader of our organization.”</p> + +<p>With that he backed cautiously toward the door, his automatic gripped +tightly in his thin, gnarled hand. In a moment the door closed behind +him, then came the sound of a heavy bolt turning in the lock, and the +two men and the girl were alone.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_280">280</span> +<h2 id="chap_XXIV">CHAPTER XXIV</h2> +<div class="subheadc">CORNERED</div> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">COLE turned to the window and verified his impression that the +shutters were strong enough to bar their exit in that direction. For +a few moments he stood there, listening to the remote booming of the +waves, the fretful whine of the wind, the creaking and groaning of +timbers in the old house. With these sounds there mingled another, a +faint but ecstatic humming and whirring that seemed to come from some +subterranean crypt.</p> + +<p>“Gold!” it seemed to say with a dull, sinister intonation. “Gold!”</p> + +<p>Cole shrugged and moved away. Next he hurled himself against the +door, but its solid resistance told him the effort was useless. The +doctor stood in the middle of the room, pulling thoughtfully at his +black beard and now and then sending Miss Brownell a glance out of his +strange, flashing eyes.</p> + +<p>“You handled the professor superbly,” Cole told him. “He is guessing +now, and when a man is guessing he is at a distinct disadvantage.”</p> + +<p>The doctor smiled musingly. “But don’t build too high hopes on his +state of mind,” he cautioned. “It is best not to underrate the enemy’s +resources.”</p> + +<p>“What about that choice morsel you handed him in regard to an +electronic reaction?” Cole wanted to know. “Anything in it?”</p> + +<p>“Absolutely nothing. But it sounded impressive enough to give the +professor something to worry <span class="pagenum" id="Page_281">281</span>about. As for Doctor Price, he wouldn’t +have recognized an electron if he had seen one with the naked eye. I +hardly expected Carmody to swallow it, but he did. When you tell a fib, +it is always best to tell the kind that the other fellow is prepared to +believe.”</p> + +<p>Cole laughed; there was something irresistible about the doctor’s +stoicism. “I hope,” he fervently declared, “that the swallowing of that +electron will give the professor a severe attack of cramps. What do you +propose to do next, Latham?”</p> + +<p>“Heroics were never in my line,” the doctor asserted in a tone that was +meant to be cynical. “When one is caught, the thing to do is to yield +as gracefully as possible. I suggest we surrender to the enemy. Why +stand on pride when one is headed for a tumble?”</p> + +<p>“In other words, you mean to build up a magnificent bluff on the +electron Carmody swallowed?”</p> + +<p>“Precisely,” said Latham, casting a sidelong glance at Miss Brownell.</p> + +<p>The girl got up, limped uncertainly across the floor, and placed a hand +on the physician’s arm.</p> + +<p>“You are a good man, Doctor Latham,” she murmured. “You are quite +transparent, however. You intend to keep up this bluff, as you call it, +until I am at a safe distance. You fail to consider what is going to +happen to you and Mr. Cole when they discover you have tricked them.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, we will cross that bridge when we come to it,” said Latham with an +air of profound assurance.</p> + +<p>“You aren’t candid with me,” the girl protested. “You know they will +kill you both as soon as they <span class="pagenum" id="Page_282">282</span>realize they have been imposed upon. You +intend to sacrifice yourself for my sake. I won’t have it!”</p> + +<p>“Now, Miss Brownell——”</p> + +<p>“I won’t accept such a sacrifice,” she declared vehemently. “That’s +absolutely final.”</p> + +<p>Latham gazed at her in an embarrassed way. He tried to smile, but it +was a pathetic effort. “Youth is always that way,” he declared. “Always +butting its head against stone walls. Don’t you see, Miss Brownell, +that——”</p> + +<p>“No, I don’t,” she interrupted. “And, so you won’t be tempted to give +it for my sake, let me tell you that I intend to fight this crowd of +cowardly ruffians till the end. Even if you should surrender, I would +not, so your sacrifice would be in vain.”</p> + +<p>Latham stroked his beard reflectively. A flippant remark was on the tip +of his tongue, but he seemed unable to utter it. He assisted the girl +back to her chair.</p> + +<p>Cole had watched them in silence. Something stirred gently within him +as he witnessed the scene between the doctor and the girl. There was +a touch of the sublime in the physician’s determination to sacrifice +himself for the object of his hopeless devotion. But to Cole it all +seemed very futile. He doubted strongly that the leader of the gang +would accept Latham’s terms. Knowing that she had discovered several +important things in regard to the organization’s activities, they would +not be likely to let the girl out of their clutches. Their logical +move would be an effort to obtain by other means the secret which they +supposed was in Latham’s <span class="pagenum" id="Page_283">283</span>possession. Nevertheless, the little drama +enacted before his eyes touched him deeply. Now he shrugged off his +hopeless feeling and strode briskly across the floor.</p> + +<p>“It isn’t time to sing the funeral hymn just yet,” he declared. “There +is another fight in us still. I propose that we——”</p> + +<p>What he had to propose was not made clear, for the door opened, and +with his usual stiff and dignified gait Professor Carmody walked once +more into the room. He had dropped his mock affability and carried +himself with a stern and dignified air.</p> + +<p>“I have talked with the chief,” he announced, addressing Doctor Latham. +“The arrangement you suggested is flatly impossible.”</p> + +<p>“Just as I thought,” muttered Cole under his breath.</p> + +<p>“You can see for yourself how unreasonable it is,” Carmody went +on in an argumentative tone. “Miss Brownell is in possession of +information which, if used against us, might harm us greatly. Under the +circumstances it would be extreme folly on our part to permit her to +leave this place for the present.”</p> + +<p>“Then what do you propose?” asked the doctor.</p> + +<p>“That you listen to reason. In a few days, a week or two at most, our +present enterprise will be finished, and we shall be in a position +where nothing can hurt us. You, Latham, can hasten developments, if you +wish, by giving us the formula you have worked out. It isn’t essential, +but we prefer to make use of it. The sooner you choose to oblige <span class="pagenum" id="Page_284">284</span>us, +the sooner you and your friends will be permitted to depart.”</p> + +<p>The doctor regarded him with a half-humorous, half-contemptuous gaze. +“Is that all?”</p> + +<p>“By no means. If you decide to accommodate us, you shall share in +the golden harvest we soon expect to reap. Think of it, Latham. By +complying with a simple request you will make yourself enormously +wealthy. Never before in the world’s history was such a magnificent +reward offered for a comparatively small service. Never since——”</p> + +<p>“You are waxing rhapsodical, professor,” interrupted Latham curtly. “I +am always suspicious of a man who makes flowery promises. Will you tell +me in plain words—the plainer the better—what will happen if I should +reject your magnanimous offer?”</p> + +<p>“I do not like to contemplate it,” said Carmody, his face full of +sadness. “Especially in view of Miss Brownell’s connection with the +matter. But you will not do anything so foolish, Latham. Remember +that we are powerful enough to get what we want, and that we do not +hesitate to use extreme measures when necessary. We can bend even such +a stubborn will as yours. I am waiting for your answer. Will you give +us the formula voluntarily, or must we resort to unpleasant forms of +coercion?”</p> + +<p>Maintaining a firm hold on his pistol, he struck an expectant attitude. +Cole, who had remained a silent but attentive listener, could see that +Latham’s position in the scientific world, together with the work he +had previously done for the organization, <span class="pagenum" id="Page_285">285</span>had convinced the professor +that he really possessed a formula that would be of great value to +the gang. Latham, on the other hand, seemed in a quandary as to how +he might best use his precarious advantage. Already it was slipping +away from him, and soon, unless an unforeseen development came to his +rescue, it might be turned against him.</p> + +<p>“You are taking a long time,” complained the professor.</p> + +<p>“It is a weighty question,” rejoined Latham.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps I can help you to arrive at a decision,” said Carmody, a +faint, cruel smile parting his bloodless lips. Suddenly he shifted the +aim of the pistol so that the barrel pointed straight to Miss Brownell. +“I believe you are a man of your word, Latham. I shall count ten. +Unless you give me a favorable reply before I reach ten, Miss Brownell +will go to a better world.”</p> + +<p>The sardonic grin that had twisted the doctor’s lips froze into a +ghastly look of horror. Miss Brownell straightened a little in her +chair, her face turned a shade paler, but there was no fear in the +eyes she leveled at the professor. Critical as the moment was, Cole’s +dominant sensation was admiration for her courage.</p> + +<p>Carmody began to count in his thin, brassy voice: “One—two—three—four——”</p> + +<p>Cole gazed narrowly into his face, as impassive as if carved out of +wood. There seemed to be no doubt but what Carmody meant to carry out +his monstrous threat. He flexed his muscles for a spring while the +professor went on counting.</p> + +<p>“——five—six—seven—eight——”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_286">286</span></p> + +<p>Cole lunged forward, staking everything on the chance of snatching +the murderous weapon from the professor’s hand, but Doctor Latham +acted even more quickly. With a sudden bound he crossed the floor and +placed himself directly in front of the chair in which the girl sat. +For a moment the pistol pointed straight at his midriff; then, with an +exclamation of baffled rage, Carmody lowered the weapon.</p> + +<p>“Fool!” he snarled. “Step out of the way this instant, or I’ll kill +both of you.” Once more the pistol rose in his hand.</p> + +<p>Very calmly, while Cole marveled at his audacity, Latham took a case +from his pocket and with ostentatious serenity lighted a cigarette.</p> + +<p>“Fire away,” he said coolly, folding his arms across his chest and +smoking with an air of perfect content.</p> + +<p>Carmody regarded him with a baleful glare, then abruptly changed his +mind and started backing toward the door. He slammed it behind him with +unnecessary vigor, and they heard the bolt slide in the lock. Latham +flung away his cigarette.</p> + +<p>“Whew!” he exclaimed. “That was fairly exciting. I didn’t like the way +Carmody looked when he left us, though. The old rat has something up +his sleeve.”</p> + +<p>Cole nodded, wondering at the meaning of the professor’s hasty exit. +“Our only hope is to spar for time, and we have been fairly successful +so far,” he remarked. “That was a neat maneuver, Latham.”</p> + +<p>“It was splendid!” exclaimed the girl, and Cole <span class="pagenum" id="Page_287">287</span>noted a new expression +in her wide, lustrous eyes as she fixed them on the physician. “But you +mustn’t do it again,” she added firmly. “He might shoot next time.”</p> + +<p>“How is the foot?” inquired Latham.</p> + +<p>“Better—much better. I think I can step down on it now.”</p> + +<p>“You had better not try as yet,” said the physician with a professional +air. “Cole and I may challenge you to a foot race by and by, and you +must preserve your energies.”</p> + +<p>She merely smiled at this, and again Cole noted the new, tender +expression in her face. He was about to frame a remark, but just then +the door opened. Two burly, hard-faced men, each with an automatic in +his hand, entered the room.</p> + +<p>“The big chief wants to see you,” announced one of them. “This way.” He +pointed toward the open door.</p> + +<p>Cole glanced narrowly at the weapon in his hand, then decided that +at the present moment resistance would be worse than useless. There +were other lives besides his own to be considered. Evidently the same +thought had occurred to the doctor. After a moment’s hesitation and an +exchange of glances with Cole, he took the girl in his arms and carried +her out followed by Cole.</p> + +<p>One of the armed men, walking at the head of the little procession, +opened the door.</p> + +<p>“In there,” he directed. “Step lively!”</p> + +<p>He gave Cole an ungentle shove with his automatic, and the three +prisoners walked through the door.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_288">288</span> +<h2 id="chap_XXV">CHAPTER XXV</h2> +<div class="subheadc">FACE TO FACE</div> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">COLE glanced about the room they had entered. Its sparse furnishings +suggested that it had been arranged in haste. There were a desk and +a telephone, hinting that it served as the executive office of the +gold-mad crowd, also a few chairs, a huge steel safe, and a cot. The +cluttered condition of the desk indicated that some one had recently +been sitting there and would probably soon return. Cole’s gaze rested +longingly on the telephone, the only connecting link with the outside +world.</p> + +<p>Very gently Doctor Latham placed the girl in one of the chairs. As she +looked up at him, her eyes were full of trust and gratitude.</p> + +<p>The doctor turned to one of the armed guards at the door.</p> + +<p>“Where is the benevolent gentleman whom you call the big chief?” he +inquired.</p> + +<p>“You’ll see him soon enough,” replied the man surlily.</p> + +<p>“Good!” exclaimed Latham. “At last my curiosity shall be satisfied. We +have a pretty good idea what he looks like—eh, Cole?”</p> + +<p>“I think we do,” said Cole, a smile tugging at his lips. “Once or twice +before my suspicions turned in the direction of the man I have in mind, +but something threw me off the track. Now I am almost sure.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_289">289</span></p> + +<p>Cole’s next words were spoken in an undertone, too low for the girl to +hear. “You realize what you are up against, don’t you, Latham?”</p> + +<p>“Against a bunch of cockeyed devils, of course.”</p> + +<p>“I had something more specific in mind. Professor Carmody has failed +to bully us, so now the big chief himself is to have a try at it. You +realize, of course, that he wouldn’t allow himself to be seen by us +unless——” He paused and looked gravely at the doctor.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I understand,” whispered Latham, throwing an uneasy glance at +Miss Brownell. “He wouldn’t show himself to us if he thought there was +the slightest chance that we would ever tell tales about him. These +scoundrels are planning to murder us, Cole.”</p> + +<p>“So it looks, but not until they have made one more effort to make you +reveal the formula for the seventh ingredient.”</p> + +<p>There was a look of sad humor in the doctor’s eyes. “And next time they +will try harder. I’ll keep up the bluff as long as I can. The seventh +ingredient!” He chuckled grimly under his breath. “Like most humbugs, +it sounds well.”</p> + +<p>Cole glanced expectantly toward the door. “A little while ago, out in +the other room, when you stepped between Carmody’s pistol and Miss +Brownell, did you expect the professor would shoot?”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t know what to expect, to tell the truth.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I knew he wouldn’t,” said Cole emphatically. “While we are +waiting, you might try to figure out the reason why. When you find it, +file it away in your mind for future reference. <span class="pagenum" id="Page_290">290</span>It may come in handy. +We must stop this whispering. We are making Miss Brownell nervous.”</p> + +<p>A slight sound was heard in the corridor. The two armed guards stood +aside, and then the door opened. A moment later, smiling thinly as he +saw his suspicions confirmed, Cole faced the leader of the alchemists.</p> + +<p>“Good evening, Mr. Englebreth,” he said easily.</p> + +<p>An attendant pushed the invalid’s wheel chair up to the desk. +Englebreth, his disproportionately broad shoulders slightly hunched, +looked about the room with a rather listless expression. He was as +white-faced as ever, and his pale, washed-out eyes showed little +animation, but a faintly sinister smile played about the long, thin +lips. In his hand was a pistol with which he toyed with apparent +carelessness.</p> + +<p>He nodded at Cole, then, with a quick motion of his long, slim fingers, +dismissed his attendant. The door closed, and the two armed guards +stood in front of it. For a while no one spoke. A hush seemed to have +descended over the little group with the invalid’s entrance. Latham +regarded him intently, but without a sign of surprise. For a moment +Englebreth’s pale eyes rested on Miss Brownell, then he glanced at the +doctor, and finally at Cole. His forehead puckered a little.</p> + +<p>“You do not seem surprised to see me,” he remarked petulantly, as if +disappointed that his entrance had created no sensation.</p> + +<p>“Why should I be?” Cole asked.</p> + +<p>“Surely you didn’t suspect until now that I was connected with the +enterprise on foot here?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_291">291</span></p> + +<p>“On the contrary,” said Cole, “your entrance has only confirmed the +suspicions that have been running in and out of my head for the past +two days. They began when I saw you enter the offices of the Bureau of +Civic Research. They received a setback when I learned that the letters +you left on the desk were genuine.”</p> + +<p>Englebreth seemed mildly amused. “I am a public-spirited man,” he +declared. “The Bureau of Civic Research is one of the numerous +praiseworthy activities I am interested in. Being one of its honorary +vice presidents I have free access to its headquarters, of course. When +I learned, quite by accident, that a certain mysterious organization, +located on the top floor of the building, was resisting my plans, then +this privilege stood me in good stead. You might have guessed, Cole, +that I left those letters for a blind, just to show any casual visitor +that everything was open and aboveboard.”</p> + +<p>“I might,” said Cole dryly.</p> + +<p>“Yet you have proven yourself a very fair guesser, I must say. You are +a clever fellow, Cole. The Unknown Seven didn’t become really dangerous +to us until you took charge of its activities. Not that you have +accomplished anything,” he added with a dry chuckle. “We are too strong +even for you.”</p> + +<p>Cole received the compliment with a shrug. A silence fell between them. +In the stillness the rhythmic humming of machinery was distinctly +heard. In Cole’s ears it sounded like a pæan of gold. He looked deep +into Englebreth’s pale eyes. There was a queer flicker in the depths, +an expression <span class="pagenum" id="Page_292">292</span>of insatiable greed to which the subterranean whir +and throw was but the audible accompaniment. He had seen the same +expression in Reeves’ burning orbs and also in the eyes of Carmody and +Ballinger. There was something abysmal about it. It suggested one who, +having gazed too long on visions of great wealth, had become enslaved +to a fearful obsession.</p> + +<p>“Yes, you are very clever,” Englebreth went on. “It did not occur to me +that any one might suspect what the safe contained, but evidently you +did. You followed the yacht, of course. It was a very ingenious move, +Cole. Without doing so you would never have located our establishment +here. Now that you are here what do you propose to do?”</p> + +<p>Cole only smiled. Again he looked deep into Englebreth’s eyes and saw +the smoldering fires of the fever of gold.</p> + +<p>“My wife is an admirer of yours, Cole,” the invalid went on. “When her +brother disappeared she insisted that I engage you to find him. Of +course I couldn’t very well refuse. It would have looked suspicious, +and, besides, I supposed you were harmless. When I saw that you were +about to learn too much, through your connection with me, I succeeded +in persuading my wife that you were not worthy of confidence, that it +was best to dismiss you. Again I ask you what you intend to do.”</p> + +<p>The words sounded like a taunt. Again Cole slanted a glance at the +telephone. The instrument tantalized him. He noticed that the green +cord attached to its base was of generous length. His mind worked +quickly, but the sight of the three <span class="pagenum" id="Page_293">293</span>automatics baffled him. A sudden +move would mean instant death, not only for himself, but for his two +companions as well.</p> + +<p>“You seem irresolute,” Englebreth observed. “And no wonder, Cole. For +once in your life, you are absolutely helpless. You have been entirely +too meddlesome, and people who meddle in others’ affairs usually get +into trouble. Listen!”</p> + +<p>Cole listened. A faint smile played about Englebreth’s lips as the +whirring of machinery sounded clearly in the surrounding silence.</p> + +<p>“Know what it means, Cole. It means gold! Gold!” His lips seemed to +caress the word. “Millions and millions and millions, Cole. After you +are gone we shall be turning out gold in unlimited quantities. I and my +associates shall be the richest men in the world. And you, poor worm, +who thought you could stop us, will be reduced to a few grains of dust.”</p> + +<p>“Sure of that?” demanded Cole.</p> + +<p>His tone, clear and confident, seemed to impress the invalid.</p> + +<p>“Why do you ask? Surely you don’t expect to escape from your present +predicament. As it happens, all the members of my organization are here +to-night. A touch of my finger will summon twenty men to my assistance, +if necessary.”</p> + +<p>He scanned Cole’s face for a sign of fear, but none came. The other’s +coolness seemed to nettle him.</p> + +<p>“So the gang is all here,” said Cole carelessly. “That means, of +course, that Doctor Ballinger is included?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_294">294</span></p> + +<p>“Naturally. An excellent man, Ballinger. He has a practical mind, and +he knows on which side his bread is buttered. Why do you ask?”</p> + +<p>“I am glad he is here,” said Cole. “I wouldn’t want him to get away +from me, you know.”</p> + +<p>The invalid leaned out of the chair and stared. “Get away?” he echoed. +“What do you mean?”</p> + +<p>“I have a particular score to settle with Ballinger,” said Cole calmly. +“Naturally I want him present when I hand you and your gang over to the +police.”</p> + +<p>“When you——” Englebreth was utterly astounded. “If you think this is a +joking matter——”</p> + +<p>“I was never more serious in my life, Englebreth. Before daybreak I +expect to hand every mother’s son of you over to the authorities.”</p> + +<p>Englebreth stared for a moment longer; then he laughed hoarsely. Cole +could see that his cool insolence had exerted the intended moral +effect. The invalid, though the advantage was all on his side, felt +just a trifle ill at ease. Cole’s demeanor was well calculated to +suggest that a surprise of some sort was forthcoming. Englebreth would +not have been human if he had failed to be impressed by the airy +assurance of one whom he thought wholly at his mercy.</p> + +<p>Finally he shrugged. “You must be mad,” he muttered. Then he faced +Latham, who stood beside the chair in which Miss Brownell sat. “I have +something to say to you, doctor. You did us a service once, and that is +something I never forget. If you will——”</p> + +<p>“Save your breath,” interrupted Latham contemptuously. <span class="pagenum" id="Page_295">295</span>“For a time, a +little while ago, I was tempted to enter into negotiations with you, +but Miss Brownell wouldn’t hear of it. What is a mere man to do when a +woman sets her foot down?”</p> + +<p>“Your flippancy is ill-timed,” said Englebreth austerely.</p> + +<p>“Hasn’t one a right to joke at one’s own funeral?”</p> + +<p>“We shall see.” Englebreth’s lips tightened ominously. “You know what +we want from you, doctor. Only a formula that by right belongs to us, +since you worked it out while you were a member of this organization. +Produce it, and I promise to be lenient with you and Miss Brownell. +Unless my senses deceive me”—and Englebreth smiled craftily—“you are +very anxious that nothing unpleasant shall happen to her.”</p> + +<p>Latham hesitated, impressed by the cruel smile on the invalid’s lips, +and the girl answered in his place.</p> + +<p>“Doctor Latham’s answer is <i>no</i>,” she declared emphatically.</p> + +<p>Englebreth regarded her curiously, with an odd mingling of admiration +and malice. “You are a stubborn young person,” he muttered. “For the +last time, doctor, I ask you if you will consent to my terms.”</p> + +<p>Again it was Miss Brownell who answered. “Doctor Latham refuses,” she +declared. “He knows that your promises are worthless, that you intend +to kill us regardless of whether or not he grants your request. I don’t +think there is anything further to be said.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_296">296</span></p> + +<p>“No?” Englebreth’s thin fingers seemed to tighten around the pistol. +“Perhaps I can convince you——”</p> + +<p>He stopped short. A squeallike cry of astonishment escaped him, for +Cole had just done a very unexpected thing. It was so unexpected, +in fact, that it seemed like the act of a person whose reason was +tottering. With arms folded across his chest he had casually approached +the chair in which Miss Brownell sat. For a time he had seemed absorbed +in deep thought, but all the while he had been scheming how he might +divert Englebreth’s attention, even if only for a moment, from the +menacing pistol in his hand. Anything of a startling nature, the more +bizarre and ludicrous the better, would serve his purpose. Now he +turned suddenly and gave the girl a resounding slap on the cheek. He +followed it up with another, then with a third.</p> + +<p>A spell seemed to fall over the gathering. They had witnessed an act, +in itself trivial and ridiculous, that staggered their reason by its +sheer fatuity. For a measured moment their minds were at a standstill. +That was exactly what Cole had intended, and a moment was all he +needed. He had acted on a fugitive inspiration at a time when all +seemed lost, when a move of a more rational nature would only have +hastened the inevitable.</p> + +<p>The resounding smack of the third blow had scarcely drifted out on the +silence when he leaped at the invalid’s chair. In an instant, while the +minds of Englebreth and the two guards at the door were still dazed +from contemplation of a <span class="pagenum" id="Page_297">297</span>thing so bizarre, he had snatched the pistol +from the cripple’s hand. A moment later he was crouching low behind +Englebreth’s chair, pressing the muzzle of the weapon against his back.</p> + +<p>He thrilled inwardly. Once more his mind had triumphed over a critical +situation. The other time had been when he faced Professor Carmody in +the Bureau of Civic Research. The professor had been thrown off his +mental base by a trick just as simple and effective.</p> + +<p>“Tell your men to drop their weapons,” he commanded, the muzzle of the +pistol prodding Englebreth’s back. “I’ll give you exactly ten seconds. +Unless you obey, you will be a dead man.”</p> + +<p>Englebreth squirmed in the chair, evidently in a state of great terror. +In a few minutes his agile mind might reassert itself, but just now +he was merely a shivering wreck. His trembling hand went up and made +a signal to his men just as Cole was about to call time. Habitually +obedient to the master will, the men at the door dropped their pistols.</p> + +<p>Cole rose from his crouching position behind Englebreth’s chair. Latham +and the girl stared at him bewilderedly, the latter moving her hand +dazedly over the cheek that Cole had struck, both seemingly unable to +realize as yet what had happened. Englebreth was breathing raspingly. +The two guards at the door gazed dully at the erect figure behind the +invalid’s chair.</p> + +<p>“Pick up those pistols, Latham,” said Cole quietly. “Pardon my +rudeness, Miss Brownell. It was necessary.”</p> + +<p>She smiled uncertainly, evidently beginning to understand. <span class="pagenum" id="Page_298">298</span>It was +several moments before the physician could shake off his stupefaction. +He moved haltingly over the floor and dazedly took possession of the +pistols.</p> + +<p>“It was magnificent, Mr. Cole!” murmured the girl, at last grasping the +psychological stratagem by which Cole had reversed the situation.</p> + +<p>“But if I hadn’t seen it happen, I would have sworn it couldn’t be +done,” said Latham.</p> + +<p>Cole’s face was grave. His ruse had only averted their immediate +danger. Any moment other members of the organization might pour into +the room, crushing them by superior numbers. Every second counted now. +Holding the pistol in one hand, Cole drew the telephone to him and +spoke a number in the transmitter. Only a few words would be needed to +make Carlin understand the situation, and within an hour reinforcements +would arrive. He wondered, as he waited for his connection, if they +could hold out until then. Impatiently he jigged the hook, muttering +heartfelt imprecations upon the state of the rural telephone service, +and then, in a twinkling, something happened.</p> + +<p>He saw the cripple’s weazened hand move stealthily along the side of +the desk, became conscious that a heretofore unnoticed door had burst +open behind him, heard the girl’s quick, startled cry, saw the light +blotted out as if a pall had suddenly dropped over the little room, +felt a stinging blow at the back of the head, and, with Englebreth’s +diabolic chuckles dinning in his ears, fell to the floor.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_299">299</span> +<h2 id="chap_XXVI">CHAPTER XXVI</h2> +<div class="subheadc">A CRY</div> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">“GOLD! Gold!” The vibrant murmurs, edged with a triumphant and sinister +note, echoed in Cole’s ears as he opened his eyes. The house was +shivering with a slow, rhythmic tremor, a throbbing pulsation that +instantly began to pierce the fog in his mind.</p> + +<p>From his recumbent position on the floor he struggled to a sitting +posture. Lifting his head, he listened to the grimly exultant pæan +rising from the bowels of the earth.</p> + +<p>“Feeling better?” asked a voice which he vaguely recognized at Doctor +Latham’s.</p> + +<p>Cole did not answer. The subterranean vibrations seemed to cast a spell +over his awakening senses.</p> + +<p>“Hear it?” he asked at length.</p> + +<p>“Hear what?”</p> + +<p>“This infernal hymn of gold. It will drive me crazy if I have to listen +to it much longer.”</p> + +<p>“Then don’t listen. Know what time it is?”</p> + +<p>Cole shook his head as if to indicate that the matter was of absolutely +no importance.</p> + +<p>“Precisely twelve o’clock,” said the doctor, and Cole heard something +resembling the snapping of a watch lid. “You have been unconscious for +something like ten hours. That was the second knock-out in a night, +Cole. Why can’t these scoundrels show a little versatility?”</p> + +<p>“What happened?” asked Cole dully.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_300">300</span></p> + +<p>“As if that mattered now! Englebreth gave a signal of some sort, and +the next thing I knew about half a dozen of his hired thugs swooped +down on us. My recollections cease at that point.”</p> + +<p>“Where are we?”</p> + +<p>“In the same room we occupied last night, before we were ushered into +Englebreth’s august presence. The windows are just as tightly shuttered +as they were then, and the door is just as impregnable. I wonder if +these hounds mean to let us starve to death.”</p> + +<p>Cole looked about him. An electric light was burning dimly over their +heads. Through a narrow rift in one of the shutters came a shaft of +sunlight, gilding the dust in the stale air.</p> + +<p>“Where is Miss Brownell?” he asked abruptly.</p> + +<p>“Wish I knew,” muttered the doctor. Of a sudden all the levity had died +out of his voice. “You and I were alone in this room when I came to. If +these rats harm a single hair on her head——” The threat died unfinished +in a groan.</p> + +<p>With difficulty Cole rose to his feet and leaned against the wall.</p> + +<p>“I don’t seem to remember just where we were at,” he mumbled.</p> + +<p>“You gave Miss Brownell a slap on the cheek,” the doctor reminded him. +“It was a brilliant idea, Cole.”</p> + +<p>“So it was—but it failed, as I remember,” Cole muttered grimly. “What +was the situation just before that?”</p> + +<p>“Englebreth was doing his level best to bluff me into revealing the +formula of the mythical seventh <span class="pagenum" id="Page_301">301</span>ingredient. Perhaps you remember his +sportsman-like proposition. I was to give him the formula in return for +my life.”</p> + +<p>“He would promptly kill you the moment you surrendered the formula,” +Cole pointed out.</p> + +<p>“Without a doubt. He would kill all three of us. But, as it happens, I +can’t give him the formula, because it doesn’t exist.”</p> + +<p>“But as long as he thinks it does, we are holding a trump card in +reserve,” said Cole, regaining his grip on the tangled threads of the +situation.</p> + +<p>“If only we knew how to use it!”</p> + +<p>“We’ll find a way,” said Cole confidently, dragging himself to a chair +at one side of the room. “Anything about your person that could be used +as a weapon in an emergency?”</p> + +<p>“Not a thing. I am plucked clean.”</p> + +<p>“So am I,” said Cole after a hasty survey of his pockets. “No, here is +a stick pin. They seem to have overlooked that. The pin is long and +sharp. You could pierce a person’s jugular vein with an implement of +this kind, couldn’t you, doctor?”</p> + +<p>“If you knew exactly where to strike.”</p> + +<p>“You do, of course, being a doctor. As a weapon it would be useless in +my hand, so I will transfer it to you. I suggest you conceal it under +the lapel of your coat.”</p> + +<p>Puzzled, Latham took the ornament and did as Cole had directed. As he +hid it under his lapel, he seemed inclined to ask a question, but Cole +forestalled him.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_302">302</span></p> + +<p>“I think some one is coming,” he remarked in an undertone.</p> + +<p>Latham, listening, heard the sounds which Cole’s keener ears had caught +first. Folding his arms across his chest, he struck a carefree pose and +looked toward the door. It opened, and two armed stalwarts walked in. +They were followed by Englebreth in his wheel chair. Two more guards, +also armed, brought up the rear. With a cautious look to all sides, +the invalid trundled his wheel chair into the center of the room. The +barrel of a small automatic gleamed viciously in the electric light.</p> + +<p>“How do you do, gentlemen?” he said in tones of mock geniality. “Wish +I could offer you some breakfast, but it has been my experience that +people are always more reasonable when their stomachs are empty. I have +come to renew our discussion where we left off last night.” He fixed +his bleak and very alert eyes on Doctor Latham.</p> + +<p>“Better save your breath,” suggested the physician. “You may need it +before we are through with you.”</p> + +<p>Englebreth smiled serenely. “I don’t blame you, doctor, for trying +to bolster up your courage. People usually resort to false bravado +when they are hopelessly situated. Our friend Cole enacted quite a +spectacular scene last night, but he will hardly try anything like that +again. He has learned his lesson. Well, doctor, are you ready to oblige +us?”</p> + +<p>“If you will drop that automatic, I’ll oblige you with a smash on the +jaw,” said the physician in unprofessional but impressive language.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_303">303</span></p> + +<p>“Still stubborn, I see.” His smile took on a sinister quality. “I +suppose you are wondering what has become of Miss Brownell?”</p> + +<p>The doctor bit his lip, but his gaze did not waver. “If anything +happens to Miss Brownell,” he muttered hotly, “I’ll choke you to death +with my bare hands.”</p> + +<p>“Save your threats, doctor. They don’t interest me in the least. As +yet nothing whatever has happened to Miss Brownell, but something will +unless you adopt a more reasonable attitude. I warn you that it will be +something decidedly unpleasant.” He turned slightly in the chair and +addressed one of his bodyguards. “Ask Doctor Ballinger to step in here.”</p> + +<p>The man nodded and left the room. A questioning glance passed between +Latham and Cole, the former looking as if a dread suspicion had +suddenly occurred to him. In a few moments the messenger returned with +Ballinger. The physician strode in with a jaunty air and saluted Cole +and Latham with exaggerated politeness.</p> + +<p>“Ah, Ballinger,” said the cripple in an undertone, yet loud enough for +the two prisoners to hear, “I just wished to make certain that you have +made all necessary arrangements for the—ahem—experiment we discussed +last night.”</p> + +<p>Cole, casting a sidelong glance at Latham, saw him stiffen suddenly. A +film of pallor spread above the bearded portion of his face.</p> + +<p>“Yes, everything is ready,” announced Ballinger.</p> + +<p>“The instruments came?”</p> + +<p>“Just a little while ago.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_304">304</span></p> + +<p>“And the ether?”</p> + +<p>“It is here too.”</p> + +<p>“Good, Ballinger. Be ready to proceed the moment you hear from me.” He +waved a withered hand in dismissal.</p> + +<p>Ballinger, an inscrutable smile playing about his lips, left the room. +An intense silence followed. The cripple’s gelid gaze moved from Latham +to Cole, and then back to Latham.</p> + +<p>“You understood?” he asked.</p> + +<p>Neither man answered. A harrowing suspicion seemed to have come over +both of them. Latham looked as if his powerful body was racked by an +agonizing dread.</p> + +<p>“Ballinger is a very clever man,” murmured the invalid. “You know +what happened to Malcolm Reeves.” He paused, looked stonily at Doctor +Latham, as if waiting for his last words to produce their utmost +effect. “The same thing,” he added slowly, measuring each word, “will +happen to Miss Brownell unless you change your mind, Latham.”</p> + +<p>A cry of mingled horror, loathing and hate broke from Latham’s +compressed lips. He sprang toward the cripple, hand raised as if to +strike, but in an instant two of the bodyguards intervened.</p> + +<p>“Glad we understand each other, Latham,” said the cripple calmly. “The +operation will start in fifteen minutes unless you submit to my terms.”</p> + +<p>Latham stood speechless. The only sound heard in the room was a great +sigh.</p> + +<p>“Don’t like the idea, eh, Latham?” the invalid went on in smooth, +dulcet tones. “The spectacle <span class="pagenum" id="Page_305">305</span>of Miss Brownell reduced to a gibbering +lunatic is a little too much for your imagination to dwell on. You have +a vivid recollection of what happened to Reeves.”</p> + +<p>A dull, hoarse groan sounded in the physician’s chest. Cole, watching +him, thought he was about to give way under an overwhelming strain.</p> + +<p>“You’re mistaken, Englebreth,” he managed to say. “There is no such +thing as the seventh ingredient. I let you go on thinking so because——”</p> + +<p>Englebreth interrupted with a wave of his hand. “I expected you to +say that. It would be your logical evasion. You can’t deceive me with +such nonsense. Only last night you discussed the possibilities of the +seventh ingredient with Professor Carmody. As he explained it to me, +it’s a sort of electronic reaction. Not being a scientific man, I don’t +understand what that means, but it doesn’t matter. I have the utmost +respect for your scientific achievements, doctor. Will you give us the +formula?”</p> + +<p>Latham fumbled in vain for a convincing argument. His advantage had not +only slipped away from him, but it had become a deadly boomerang in +Englebreth’s hand.</p> + +<p>“I swear I am telling you the truth!” he cried brokenly.</p> + +<p>A cold smile curled the cripple’s lips. “Such childish subterfuge +doesn’t go with me,” he said contemptuously. “Either you give me the +formula instantly, or Miss Brownell will be a lunatic inside of an +hour. Take your choice.”</p> + +<p>He leaned back in the chair, slowly and playfully <span class="pagenum" id="Page_306">306</span>twisting the +automatic in his hand. Cole stepped forward.</p> + +<p>“Latham has told you the truth,” he declared. “The seventh ingredient +never existed outside of his imagination.”</p> + +<p>Englebreth shrugged with an air of utter incredulity. Cole could see +that there was no way of disturbing his firmly rooted belief. And he +knew that, even if the seventh ingredient had been a reality, Latham’s +submission would not have altered their situation.</p> + +<p>Englebreth looked at his watch, then summoned one of his bodyguards and +whispered something in his ear. The man left the room. The slamming +of the door sounded like a death knell in the tense silence. Latham’s +chest heaved in a frenzy of suppressed emotions. Minutes passed, and +then hurried footsteps sounded overhead, accompanied by the sound of +a resisting body being dragged over the floor. Latham, with a wild +look in his face, started forward, but one of the guards shoved him +back. Breathing fast and raspingly he swayed unsteadily on his feet. +Of a sudden he gave a violent start, then stood as if frozen into +immobility. From the room above came a long cry of terror, uttered in a +woman’s voice.</p> + +<p>Latham’s bulging eyes stared upward. There was a look of insanity in +his face.</p> + +<p>“Stop it!” he cried hoarsely. “For God’s sake——”</p> + +<p>Another cry, more poignant than the others, shrilled through the house.</p> + +<p>“Stop it—you fiend!” cried Latham.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_307">307</span></p> + +<p>“I will, on one condition,” said Englebreth calmly. “There is still +time. They are only making preparations upstairs. She won’t cry when +the real business begins.”</p> + +<p>Latham’s hand went to his eyes as if to exclude a hideous vision.</p> + +<p>“Careful, Englebreth!” said Cole evenly. “If you go too far, Latham may +lose his mind.”</p> + +<p>“And if he does, what then?” demanded the cripple jeeringly.</p> + +<p>“A number of things may happen.” Cole gave the physician a level, +significant glance. “For instance, Latham may take it into his head to +kill himself.”</p> + +<p>The physician’s head went up. His hands left his face. A look of +dawning comprehension crept into his features. He turned his head and +for an instant his eyes met Cole’s, reading a message there.</p> + +<p>“Kill himself?” echoed the cripple, astonished. “What rot, Cole! How +would he do it, and why?”</p> + +<p>“Ask him,” said Cole with a careless gesture. “I can only point out to +you that if he kills himself the secret of the seventh ingredient dies +with him. Look! He is——”</p> + +<p>He simulated a cry of astonishment and horror. Latham, quickly +interpreting the message he had read in Cole’s eyes, had snatched the +stick pin from under the lapel of his coat.</p> + +<p>“Watch me, Englebreth,” he declared in a voice that had suddenly +retrieved all its lost vigor. “Even a stick pin makes quite a +formidable weapon if it’s pointed in the right direction. I am pointing +this one straight at my jugular vein. The moment <span class="pagenum" id="Page_308">308</span>anybody in this room +makes a move, I drive it in. Where will your seventh ingredient be +then, Englebreth?”</p> + +<p>The cripple stared at him in speechless bafflement. He raised a hand, +but it fell limply to his side.</p> + +<p>“You—you’re crazy!” he stuttered.</p> + +<p>“Maybe,” said Latham coolly.</p> + +<p>“Or else you are only bluffing.” There was a trace of doubt in +Englebreth’s tones.</p> + +<p>“Why should I be bluffing? I would rather kill myself than be killed by +your bunch of hyenas. I know you meant to kill me, anyway, Englebreth. +One thing is certain. Unless you stop the preparations upstairs within +the next sixty seconds, your last hope of obtaining that formula will +be gone. You can’t get anything out of a dead man.”</p> + +<p>Englebreth strained forward in his chair, staring into the physician’s +grim, determined face.</p> + +<p>“He means what he says,” Cole declared, smiling despite the tension of +the moment. “You will have to act quickly, Englebreth.”</p> + +<p>The cripple considered a moment longer, then bawled an order to one +of the men at the door. The fellow hurried away, and in a moment +they heard him scurrying up the stairs. An exchange of words sounded +overhead, then all was quiet.</p> + +<p>Englebreth made an impatient gesture with his hand. The bodyguard +closed in around him, and with petulant motions he wheeled himself out +of the room. At the door he turned his head for a moment, and a little +chill rippled down Cole’s back as he saw the cold, malignant look in +the cripple’s eye.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_309">309</span> +<h2 id="chap_XXVII">CHAPTER XXVII</h2> +<div class="subheadc">THE WAY OUT</div> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">DOCTOR LATHAM stroked his beard thoughtfully as the door closed behind +the invalid and his retinue. “It worked like magic,” he remarked.</p> + +<p>“It worked,” Cole amplified, “because we were dealing with a logical +mind, one that deals mainly with reason and fails to consider the human +equation. We know that Englebreth means to kill us in the end, and he +knows that we know it. That being the case, it wasn’t hard for him +to put himself in your place a little while ago. He would have done +what you threatened to do, because it was the logical move under the +circumstances. I wonder what deviltry Englebreth will be planning next.”</p> + +<p>“A seven-course dinner, I hope,” said the doctor wistfully. “I’m +famished.”</p> + +<p>Cole regarded him musingly, marveling at the resiliency of his spirits. +Latham appeared to have shaken off all external cares the moment he saw +that Miss Brownell was no longer in immediate danger.</p> + +<p>“You might as well restrain your appetite, doctor,” he murmured. “You +heard what Englebreth said, that a man is most amenable to argument +when he is hungry. At any rate, it is worth something to know that he +doesn’t want you to die just yet. He showed that plainly when you made +that monumental bluff with the stick pin. I saw him turn white as a +ghost.”</p> + +<p>“Thanks to the seventh ingredient,” said Latham <span class="pagenum" id="Page_310">310</span>with a chuckle. “It’s +the best kind of life insurance, but I fear it won’t last long. Any +more tricks in your repertory, Cole?”</p> + +<p>“One more, I think.” Cole glanced toward the shadowy corner where he +had stood during Englebreth’s presence in the room. “I understand,” he +went on casually, “that Dutchess Point was once a very gay place.”</p> + +<p>“If so, its gayety hasn’t improved with age.”</p> + +<p>Cole ignored his flippancy. “I’ve been told it was once a notorious +gambling resort. Places of that kind are usually equipped with +contrivances for making hasty exits—trapdoors, sliding panels and that +sort of thing.”</p> + +<p>Latham raised his brows. “What are you getting at?”</p> + +<p>But Cole seemed in no hurry to approach his subject. “Ever notice, +Latham, that many people find it very hard to remain motionless when +they are in a state of deep mental concentration? Physical movement +of some sort seems a necessary relief from mental effort. One man I +know is always plucking at his watch chain when he is absorbed in some +mental task. Another taps his desk with a pencil. My own favorite +diversion on such occasions is to beat a tattoo with my knuckles.”</p> + +<p>“Highly interesting,” remarked Latham, “but I fail to see the point. It +is either very shallow or very deep.”</p> + +<p>“Neither, Latham. A little while ago, while you were enacting that +highly dramatic scene for Englebreth’s benefit, I stood back there in +the corner, with my hands behind my back, tapping the wall <span class="pagenum" id="Page_311">311</span>with my +knuckles. No one noticed me, for you held the attention of everybody +in the room. I didn’t realize what I was doing myself until suddenly I +became aware that my knuckles were producing a hollow sound.”</p> + +<p>Doctor Latham gasped. “You mean that——”</p> + +<p>“We shall see,” said Cole; and in an instant he was back in the corner, +crouching low while his knuckles hammered the wall, each tap producing +a dull, hollow sound. The doctor, visibly excited, stood behind him, +watching every move he made. Cole continued the tapping until he had +determined the boundaries of the hollow space, extending about five +feet from the corner, and then he got down on his knees and ran his +hands along the beveled joint between wall and floor. A little cry of +elation escaped him as his fingers encountered a small protuberance. +Almost instantly a portion of the wall turned back as if swinging on a +central pivot. In front of them extended a long, dark hall.</p> + +<p>“Great!” exclaimed Latham, his voice shaking a little. “You deserve a +harp and a halo, Cole. Now let’s make the hasty exit you spoke of.”</p> + +<p>He pressed forward, but Cole pulled him back. “I don’t want a harp +and a halo just yet,” he declared, “and that’s why we are going to +stay in this room a while longer. You forget that it’s still broad +daylight outside. If we went out now, we would doubtless run into one +of Englebreth’s sluggers. We must wait till dark.”</p> + +<p>Latham groaned as Cole closed the opening. He glanced at his watch. +“Only half past three. That means a wait of several hours.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_312">312</span></p> + +<p>“I know. That will give us ample time to lay our plans. Don’t forget +that we are both unarmed, and that we’ll cut a sorry figure if we +should be caught. We don’t want to waste the only advantage we have.”</p> + +<p>“You are right, of course,” admitted the doctor. “What do you suggest?”</p> + +<p>Cole reflected. “It isn’t likely Englebreth knows anything about the +hidden exit. If he did, he would have chosen a different cell for us. +We’ll treat him to a little surprise after dark, Latham. Its exact +nature will be determined by whatever developments come along in the +meantime.”</p> + +<p>“Wish they would hurry,” mumbled the doctor, all impatience now that +a way out had been found. He sat down, lighted a cigarette, and made +ostentatious efforts to compose himself for a wait. An hour dragged +by. The beam of light coming through the narrow rift in the shutter +grew thin and pale. Another hour passed, and it disappeared altogether. +Latham got up and began pacing the floor with long, lunging strides. +For a long time not a word had been uttered between the two men.</p> + +<p>“Isn’t it about time to make a move?” asked Latham suddenly.</p> + +<p>Cole started. The subterranean pulsations, sounding clear and exultant +in the stillness, had cast a spell over his senses. Now he looked at +his watch in the light of the electric bulb overhead.</p> + +<p>“Better wait another hour,” he suggested.</p> + +<p>Doctor Latham swore under his breath, then lighted another cigarette.</p> + +<p>“Queer we haven’t heard from Englebreth,” Cole <span class="pagenum" id="Page_313">313</span>remarked. “I expected +another call from him before dark.”</p> + +<p>“He is probably meditating over his next move. I imagine he is planning +a very brilliant stroke. But we’ll checkmate him, eh, Cole?”</p> + +<p>Latham’s impatience was beginning to communicate itself to Cole. He +took his watch from his pocket, and in the same instant a noise sounded +outside the door. In a moment it opened, and two huskies, with leveled +automatics, appeared in the room.</p> + +<p>“Miss Brownell wants you,” announced one of them, addressing Doctor +Latham.</p> + +<p>The physician, evidently in a quandary, looked questioningly at Cole. +For only a moment Cole hesitated. Doubtless the summons meant that +Englebreth was trying a new mode of attack and that the reference to +Miss Brownell was only a subterfuge.</p> + +<p>Cole nodded in response to the physician’s unspoken question. “If Miss +Brownell wants you, you must go to her,” he declared, conscious that +one of the guards was watching him intently. In an undertone he added: +“If you get into a pinch, keep stalling till I show up.”</p> + +<p>Latham nodded and walked out, accompanied by the two gangsters. Cole +watched him until the door closed behind him.</p> + +<p>“Wonder what Englebreth is up to this time,” he muttered; and then, +moving quickly, he stepped into the corner and, opening the hidden +door, stepped out into the dark hall beyond.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_314">314</span> +<h2 id="chap_XXVIII">CHAPTER XXVIII</h2> +<div class="subheadc">THE ENEMY STRIKES</div> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">SILENT as a shadow, Cole hurried down the hall, which seemed to extend +endlessly in an undeviating direction. Believing it had once been used +as an emergency exit he supposed it would eventually lead into the +open. He had made no plans beyond the immediate present, but it was +his intention to join Doctor Latham as soon as possible and, taking +advantage of the sensation his unexpected appearance would create, +make the most of his opportunity. Beyond doubt the physician was in +desperate danger. The murderous glance Englebreth had thrown over his +shoulder as he left them a few hours ago had left an ominous imprint on +Cole’s mind.</p> + +<p>Soon he brought up against an obstruction, apparently a blank stretch +of wall. He fumbled with his hands along the surface expecting to find +a contrivance similar to the one at the other end of the wall. Soon +his fingers encountered the little knob at the bottom which told him +his surmise had been correct. Cautiously he pressed outward and the +obstruction gave. A breath of cool night air fanned his face as he +stepped out.</p> + +<p>Hugging close to the wall he looked about him. Evidently he was in the +rear of the house, in a wide recess formed by two projecting wings. +Above him and to the sides were several lighted windows, <span class="pagenum" id="Page_315">315</span>while ahead +of him was a sloping, rock-strewn stretch of landscape. Carefully +picking his way, he stepped along the nearest wall, all his senses +on the alert against an interruption. He reached the corner, looked +around the edge of the wall, and then drew back. A stalwart individual, +evidently one of Englebreth’s lookouts, was coming toward him.</p> + +<p>Cole shrank back against the wall, waited until the man rounded the +corner, then swung out with his right hand and landed a smashing blow +on the fellow’s jaw. Without a sound the sentry dropped to the ground, +and Cole dragged him into the shadows along the wall. It took him but a +few moments to undo the man’s shoe laces and secure his hands and feet. +Next he ripped out the lining from his coat, folded it into a narrow +strip, and firmly applied it as a gag. Last of all he extracted an +automatic from the unconscious man’s hip pocket.</p> + +<p>“I’m in luck so far,” he told himself, making certain that the weapon +was loaded before he continued his interrupted progress. He breathed +more easily now, for the possession of a firearm had a soothing effect +on his nerves. He crawled forward along the wall, exercising infinite +care, until he reached a window in the wing. It was dark, and no sound +came from within, signifying that this part of the building was not +used by the gang. He placed his elbow against the pane, pressing firmly +until the glass cracked. Dislodging several of the splinters, he pushed +a hand through the opening and released the catch. In a moment he was +inside and began to pick his way cautiously across the floor. At the +farther side he opened a door, traversed another <span class="pagenum" id="Page_316">316</span>dark and deserted +room, then still another. Soon he found himself in a hall, and after +a glance up and down its length selected a door at random. The moment +he stepped inside voices reached his ears. Along the side, diagonally +across the floor from where he stood, a narrow streak of light showed +the location of the door.</p> + +<p>He tiptoed across the floor, placed his hand on the knob, turned it +carefully, and opened the door an infinitesimal crack. In an instant +he recognized the room. It was the office that had been the scene of +his short-lived triumph the night before. Englebreth was seated at +the desk, occupying the same wheel chair in which he had sat while +witnessing Cole’s abortive ruse. The door before which Cole now stood +was the one that had so abruptly opened while he was on the point of +telephoning Carlin. He was vaguely aware that the scene had changed +since last night, but he had no time to observe details. His attention +was instantly engrossed by the little drama taking place before his +eyes.</p> + +<p>On a cot placed along the farther side of the room lay Latham, and, +save for an occasional turn of the head, he lay so still that Cole, +although he could not see distinctly, guessed that he must be strapped +to the cot. Over him, bending slightly, with a wicked smile playing +about his bearded lips, stood Doctor Ballinger, and in his hand was a +small object which Cole could not distinguish. The only other occupants +of the room were Englebreth and two of the stalwart bodyguards who +always seemed to be hovering about him.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_317">317</span></p> + +<p>“Yes, it was clever, Latham,” the cripple was saying. “You played your +cards just right. Whether you were serious or whether you were bluffing +is beside the point. Your death would have been ill-timed from my point +of view. I don’t think you are afraid to die, Latham. There is one +thing you are afraid of, however.”</p> + +<p>He stopped. For several moments the room was very still. Ballinger, +straightening his back, looked meditatively at the object in his hand, +which, as Cole now perceived, was a small bottle.</p> + +<p>“That one thing is blindness, Latham,” added the cripple impressively. +“Tell him, Ballinger.”</p> + +<p>Ballinger held the vial before the recumbent man’s eyes. “One small +particle of this fluid dropped into each of your eyes will blind you +for life,” he announced. “Not a pleasant thing to contemplate, eh, +Latham?”</p> + +<p>Cole started as he saw the diabolical form of persuasion that was being +employed by the conspirators to make Latham reveal what he was supposed +to know. It was a threat far more hideous than death itself. He saw +Latham’s chest heave upward as he strained against the fetters that +held him to the cot.</p> + +<p>“What do you say, Latham?” asked the cripple, bending slightly out of +his chair.</p> + +<p>“I’ll say that you and Ballinger are a pair of scurvy blackguards,” was +the physician’s retort. “I take solemn oath that I will send each of +you to jail with a black eye.”</p> + +<p>Ballinger laughed derisively.</p> + +<p>“Still stubborn, I see,” Englebreth remarked. “I <span class="pagenum" id="Page_318">318</span>am warning you for +the last time, Latham. If you think Cole can come to your rescue, you +are mistaken. Between you and me, that infernal meddler will never +leave Dutchess Point alive. With you it is different. You can make +yourself useful to us, and that is why I am offering you terms. But you +must decide quickly.”</p> + +<p>“Go to blazes!” said Latham, but there was a catch in his voice, +scarcely audible even to Cole’s keen ears, which told that his courage +was faltering.</p> + +<p>“He thinks we are bluffing, Ballinger,” said Englebreth. “We must +convince him that we are serious. Drop a little of the fluid into his +left eye. The result will prove to him that we mean business.”</p> + +<p>A muffled groan came from the man on the cot. Ballinger stepped closer +to the light, uncorked the little vial, cautiously inserted a small +syringe through the neck, his brows contracting as he pumped the +requisite amount of fluid into the glass tube. Now he set the bottle +down, replaced the cork, and with the syringe in his hand turned again +toward the man on the cot. A faint grin hovered about his bearded lips, +but he had taken only a step in the direction of the cot when a sharp +command rang out:</p> + +<p>“Stop, Ballinger!”</p> + +<p>As he spoke, Cole sprang forward and landed a vigorous blow with +his automatic on the right hand of the guard standing nearest to +Englebreth. A pistol dropped from the man’s limp fingers, and with an +instantaneous movement Cole picked it up.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_319">319</span></p> + +<p>Ballinger jerked up his head, then stopped dead in his tracks, facing +the cot. The cripple whirled round in his swivel chair, a look of utter +consternation flooding his white face as he saw Cole, standing calmly +a foot away, a leveled automatic in each hand. The second guard leaped +forward, but in a moment Cole had him covered.</p> + +<p>“Drop that gun!” he ordered, making an ominous gesture with one of his +pistols. “This instant!”</p> + +<p>The man’s jaw sagged, and the weapon dropped from his hand. Englebreth, +sitting hunched and shuddering in his chair, stared at the intruder as +if he were seeing a specter.</p> + +<p>“You!” he exclaimed in a thin, rasping voice. “You——”</p> + +<p>Cole ignored him. His eyes gleamed like points of polished steel. +“Ballinger,” he said in a very calm voice, “I’d rather put a bullet +through your black heart, but I’m going to give you one chance for your +life. See how quickly you can cut Doctor Latham loose. A little speed +may save your life.”</p> + +<p>The syringe fell from Ballinger’s trembling fingers. For a moment he +hesitated, then a knife appeared in his hand, and with surprising speed +he slashed the cords around Latham’s hands and feet. A little dazedly +the physician rose from the cot. There was a dull, smoldering fever in +his eyes as he looked at Ballinger. With startling suddenness his right +hand shot out, landing a vicious blow between Ballinger’s eyes.</p> + +<p>“There—I promised you that!” he exclaimed grittily. “And you!”</p> + +<p>Again his powerful fist darted out, and a splash <span class="pagenum" id="Page_320">320</span>of crimson spurted +from the region of Englebreth’s nose. With a sigh of vast content he +looked at Cole.</p> + +<p>“How in the world did you——”</p> + +<p>“Never mind,” Cole interrupted. “Get Carlin on the telephone.” As the +physician started to obey, his cold, narrowing gaze swept each face in +the room. “I’ll shoot the moment any one moves or makes a sound,” he +declared.</p> + +<p>His voice had a ruthless ring, and no one moved. Englebreth, breathing +raspingly, was wiping the blood from his face while he squinted at Cole +in a dazed way.</p> + +<p>The physician hung up the receiver and stepped away from the telephone.</p> + +<p>“I got Carlin out of bed,” he reported. “He will be here in a little +while, and he will bring enough men with him to surround the place. +These human hyenas will soon be where they belong.” He looked about +him with a satisfied expression. “I hope Carlin won’t treat the speed +regulations too tenderly. I’m hungry as the deuce.”</p> + +<p>“So am I,” admitted Cole, a trifle absently. The throbbing and pulsing +of machinery sounded remotely in his ears, a muffled hymn of greed +and gold-maddened dreams, soon to be silenced forever. He shrugged, +and a look of fretful responsibility came into his face. “And there +is Toots,” he went on. “I’ve been neglecting Toots lately. Latham, +I’m going to give you a piece of advice, with the compliments of The +Unknown Seven. Keep shy of cats.”</p> + +<div class="center"><b>THE END.</b></div> + +<div class="transnote"> + <div class="large center"><b>Transcriber’s Notes:</b></div> + <ul> + <li>Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected.</li> + </ul> +</div> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78010 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/78010-h/images/colophon.jpg b/78010-h/images/colophon.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d6aeae2 --- /dev/null +++ b/78010-h/images/colophon.jpg diff --git a/78010-h/images/cover.jpg b/78010-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..310c49d --- /dev/null +++ b/78010-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/78010-h/images/leaf.jpg b/78010-h/images/leaf.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..515eb8b --- /dev/null +++ b/78010-h/images/leaf.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6c72794 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This book, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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