CHAPTER XIII.
THE ANONYMOUS LETTER.
A very short time after the capture of Skip Riley, Ted Strong wasstanding in the waiting room of the Union Station at St. Louis, themetropolis of Missouri, whither he had been summoned by a letter fromthe chief of the United States secret service.
He was waiting for Bud Morgan, who had gone to the baggage room toinquire about a trunk which had become lost on the way from Moon Valley,and which contained a number of valuable papers, including both theircommissions as deputy United States marshals.
The enormous waiting room was crowded with passengers from the incomingtrains, with which the numerous tracks were full from end to end.
As Ted Strong leaned over the iron railing, looking down into the lowerwaiting room, he was conscious that a woman had stepped to his side.Glancing up sideways, he saw that close to him was a very beautifulyoung girl, who wore a traveling cloak of pearl gray, and a long featherboa, which the draft had blown across his sleeve.
His glance intercepted one from her, and not wishing her to think thathe was idly staring at her, he directed his gaze once more to thesurging crowd below. As his eyes wandered over the throng, he saw a manlook up, and make the most imperceptible gesture with his head.
He did not know the man. Turning swiftly to the young lady at his side,he caught sight of a smile and a slight uplifting of her eyebrows.
Undoubtedly a signal had passed between the two, and Ted, not wishingto be an eavesdropper, looked away again. But in the swift glance he hadgiven the young girl--for now he saw that she was little else--he made amental note of her. The gray eyes with the long, dark lashes, the ovalface, beautiful in shape and of an ivory tint; the scarlet, curvinglips, the slender, trim figure, and the strange, subtle perfume whichshe exhaled, one would never forget.
He also noted the appearance of the man who had signaled the girl.
The man was five feet seven inches in height; his face was well rounded,but not too fat. He had a brown, pointed beard; the eyes were pale,almost colorless; the forehead, broad and high, a fact which Ted notedwhen the man lifted his hat to wipe his brow. He had the air of awell-bred man of the world, and was probably a resident of New York.There was something familiar about the man that made Ted think that hehad seen him before.
Ted saw Bud come through the door into the waiting room from the midwayof the station, look up and wave his hand, with a frown and a shake ofthe head that told him his pard's quest for the missing baggage had beenfruitless.
At the same time, the girl at his side seemed to bump into him, and ashe turned to her she muttered an apology and hurried away. Although hefollowed her with his eyes a few moments, she was soon lost in thecrowd.
He slipped his hands into the pockets of his jacket, and, with his backto the railing, prepared to wait until Bud reached him.
As his left hand sank into his pocket, his fingers came in contact witha piece of paper.
He knew that he had not placed the paper in his pocket, and glancedaround with his usual caution to see if any one was watching him. He sawthat wonderful pair of gray eyes with the dark lashes--Irish eyes, hecalled them--watching him over the shoulders of a man a dozen feet awayin the crowd. But the moment the woman realized that she was beingobserved, she disappeared.
"Deuced strange," he muttered to himself, fumbling with the paper, whichhe had not withdrawn from his pocket. "That girl placed this paper in mypocket. I wonder why. There is something out of the way here, for thepaper was not there before she stood beside me."
One less wise than Ted, and not so modest, might have thought that thegirl was trying to flirt with him. But to Ted there was something moreimportant and mysterious than that in her actions.
If he read them aright, she had placed the paper in his pocket when sheapparently accidentally bumped into him, and had gone away only to comeback to see if he had discovered it.
Although he searched the crowd with eager eyes, he did not see heragain, and was confident that she had disappeared as soon as she hadaccomplished her mission, which was to convey some message to him.
Although he was somewhat curious to know what, if anything, was writtenon the paper, he restrained himself until he could be alone, for he didnot know who might be in that crowd looking for just such a move on hispart.
Just then Bud brushed his way through the crowd and came up to Ted.
"Them things ain't come yit," he said, in a tone of discontent, "an' mestranded in St. Looey with no more clean shirt than a rabbit."
"You can easily get a clean shirt," said Ted, "but it's not so easy toget a new commission. That's what's worrying me, for there is notelling how soon we may need one."
"Well, let's git out o' this mob, er I'll begin ter beller an' mill, an'if they don't git out o' my way I'll cause sech a stampede thet it'lltake ther police all day ter round 'em up ag'in."
Ted said nothing to Bud about the paper he had discovered in his pocket,but picked up his valise. They then made their way to the street androde uptown in a car, where they registered at a quiet hotel.
Ted went immediately to the room assigned to him, locked the door, anddrew out the paper.
He could not conceive what it would contain, for he was far above thevanity of thinking that the young woman who had stood by his side wouldinterest herself in him enough to write him a silly note.
"The man with the pointed beard!" thought Ted.
Of course, it was he who had caused the note to be slipped into hispocket.
But why?
Taking a chair by the window, he slowly opened the note, observing atthe time that the same fragrance came from it as had filled the airwhile the girl stood beside him in the station.
It was a sheet of pale-blue letter paper folded three times.
In the upper left-hand corner was an embossed crest, the head of a lionrampant, and beneath it a dainty monogram, which he made out to be"O. B. N.," or any one of the combinations of those letters. He couldnot tell which combination was the correct one.
The writing was in a fashionable feminine hand, and written with apencil.
It was as follows:
"T. S.: This is a friendly warning from one who dare not communicate with you personally, for reasons which you will discover and understand later on, if things turn out as we"--the word "we" had been scratched out and "I" written above it--"anticipate. Be very careful while you are in St. Louis. Do not go on the streets alone, and go armed. Your mission is known, and you will be watched by persons who will seek to get you out of the way. We--that is, I, also know of your mission, and take this means of warning you of your danger, as you have done me services in the past without knowing it. Now, the sting of this note lies in this, and don't forget it, don't get into any fights, no matter what the provocation, for I have it straight that that, is the lay to do you. If you do so, not being able to avoid it, shoot straight, and you will come out all right in the end. I will see to that part of it at the right time.
"A FRIEND."
Ted read the letter through three times, trying to clarify it, but eachtime his mind became more confused over it.
What did it mean, and how could any stranger know his business when hehad not told a soul about it?
Even Bud did not know why they were in St. Louis; that is, he did notknow the real reason. Ostensibly, they were there to inspect the localhorse market.
There was a loud rap on the door, and Ted went to it and unlocked it.Throwing the door open, he saw a stranger standing on the threshold,just about to step in.
He looked at Ted in apparent surprise, then up at the number on thedoor, but his eyes fell to the letter which Ted still held in his hand,and he stared at it like one fascinated.
Ted noticed this, and put the letter behind his back.
As the stranger did not speak, Ted broke the spell by saying, in asarcastic tone:
"Well?"
"Oh, I beg your pardon," said th
e stranger hastily, "but isn't Mr. Fowlein? I expected him to come to the door, and was surprised to see you,don't you know."
"I don't know any Mr. Fowle," said Ted, with a smile that must have toldthe stranger that he was not taken in by the question.
The fellow threw a quick glance around the room, but did not retreatfrom his place in the doorway.
Ted was starting to shut the door, considering the incident closed, whenthe stranger, who was a large, powerful man, well dressed and with theair of a prosperous business man, started to enter.
"This is not Mr. Fowle's room; it is mine," said Ted, blocking the way,
"I'll just step in and wait for him," said the man. "The clerkdownstairs said it was his room."
"Wait a minute," said Ted sternly. "I don't know you, and I don't knowFowle. If you have any business with me, state it from the hall."
The warning in the letter flashed through his mind.
Suddenly the man sprang upon Ted, and they fell to the floor together.
"Give me that letter, curse you!" hissed the man, "I saw you get it, andI saw it just now. Give it to me, I tell you."
Ted had managed to put the letter back into his pocket. His right armwas twisted under his body, and he could not release it.
He looked up into the face of the man, who was straddling his body, andsaw a gleam of malignant hatred in his eyes.
"Let me up, you cur," said Ted.
"After I get the letter," was the reply.
"It's a private letter, and not for you. Let me up!"
Now Ted saw that the man had a knife in his hand--a long, keen knife,with a pearl hilt and a silver guard.
"If you don't give me that letter at once, you'll not get anotherchance, but I'll have it," snarled the man.
Ted began to struggle, but he soon saw that he could do nothing with onearm out of commission. The man was not only powerful, but heavy, and itwas all Ted could do to more than wriggle his body.
"I tell you you shan't have it," said Ted.
The knife went above the man's head, and in the wielder's face was alook of the most diabolical hatred Ted had ever seen in a humancountenance.
"For the last time," said the man hoarsely.
There was something about the fellow's actions that told Ted he wasdesperate, yet at the same time afraid of the act he was about tocommit.
The knife was about to descend when Ted cried out an alarm, the first hehad sounded.
He heard some one running in the hall. His assailant heard it, also, andhesitated, looking around with frightened eyes.
"Yi-yipee!" It was Bud's voice, and Ted breathed a prayer ofthankfulness.
"I'll give it to you, anyhow," muttered the man, and again the knifewent up in the air.
But it did not make a strike, for at that moment Bud bounded into theroom, and, taking in the situation with a lightning glance, his footflew out, and the toe of his heavy boot struck the man on top of Tedfairly in the ribs. There was a cracking sound, and with a groan thefellow dropped the knife and struggled to his feet.
Rushing at Bud, he bowled that doughty individual over like a tenpin,and dashed into the hall, along which he ran swiftly and lightly, forso large a man.
When Bud had picked himself up and run to the stairway, he could hearthe fellow clattering down the stairs three flights below.
"Well, dash my hopes," said Bud, "if he didn't get clear away. He shoretreated me like a leetle boy. But I reckon he's in sech a hurry becausehe's on his way ter a drug store fer a porious plaster fer them ribs o'hisn."
Ted had picked himself up and was rubbing his arm, which had beenstrained by his falling on it.
"What's this yere all erbout?" asked Bud. "I'm comin' up ter call on yerwhen I hears yer blat, an' I come runnin', an' what do I see? A large,pale stranger erbout ter explore yer system with er bowie. Yer mixin' insassiety quicker'n usual, seems ter me."
Ted had picked up the knife, which had fallen beneath the bed, and waslooking at it.
"I wonder where this came from," he said, turning it over in his hand.
"Wherever it came from, it's a wicked-lookin' cuss," said Bud. "But whatwuz ther feller goin' ter explore yer with it fer?"
"This letter," said Ted, taking the crumpled paper from his pocket andhanding it to Bud.
"Jumpin' sand hills, ther plot thickens," said Bud, when he had finishedreading it. "I don't seem ter be in it at all. What's it all erbout?Ye've got my coco whirlin' shore."
Ted Strong's Motor Car Page 13
