Under Cover

by Wyndham Martyn

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  When Monty had gone, Denby took out the pouch and placed itconspicuously on the floor so that anyone descending the stairs mustinevitably catch sight of it. Then, as though thinking better of it, hepicked it up and placed it on one of the small tables on which was anelectric shaded lamp. After looking about him for a hiding-place fromwhich he could command a view of it and yet remain undiscovered, hedecided upon a door at the left of the hall.

  He had waited there only a few seconds when Ethel Cartwright's stepswere heard descending.

  "Oh, Mr. Denby," she called, "you were right, the fan was in my roomafter all." Then, as she became conscious that the room was empty, shepaused and looked about her closely. Presently her eyes fell on theprecious pouch so carelessly left. For a moment the excitement berefther of ability to move. Here, only a few yards from her, was what wouldearn her sister's safety and her release from Taylor's power.

  But she was no fool and collecting her thoughts wondered how it waspossible so precious a thing could be left open to view. Perhaps it wasa trap. Perhaps in the big hall behind one of its many doors orportieres she was even now being watched. Denby had looked at her in astern, odd manner, wholly different from his former way and Mr. Vaughan,of whom she had heard often enough as a pleasant, amiable fellow, hadstared at her searchingly and harshly. An instinct of danger came to heraid and she glanced over to the door behind her which was slightly ajar.She remembered certainly that it was closed when she had gone upstairsfor her supposititious fan.

  As calmly as she could she walked to the wall and touched the bell thatwould summon a servant. In a few seconds Lambart entered.

  "Please find Mr. Denby," she said, "and say that I am here."

  Before he could turn to go, she affected to discover the leathern pouch.

  "Oh, Lambart," she exclaimed, "here's Mr. Denby's tobacco; he must haveforgotten it."

  The man took up the pouch, assuming from her manner that she desired himto carry it to the owner. "No, I'll take it," she said, and reached forit. Lambart only saw what was to him an inexcusably clumsy gesture whichdislodged it from his hand and sent it to the floor, in such a mannerthat it opened and the tobacco tumbled out. But the girl's gesture wascleverer than he knew for in that brief moment she had satisfied herselfit was empty.

  "Oh, Lambart," she said reprovingly, "how careless of you! Have youspilt it all?"

  Lambart examined its interior with a butler's gravity.

  "I'm afraid I have, miss," he admitted.

  "I think Mr. Denby went into the library," she said, knowing that thedoor behind which someone--probably he--was hiding, led to that room.

  Hearing her, Denby knew he must not be discovered and retreated throughthe empty library into a small smoking-room into which Lambart did notpenetrate. The man returned to Miss Cartwright, his errandunaccomplished. "Mr. Denby is not there," he said.

  "Then I will give him the pouch when I see him," she said, "and,Lambart, you need not tell him I am here."

  As soon as he was gone, she ran to the window, her face no longerstrained but almost joyous, and when she was assured that none watchedher, lowered the curtain as a signal.

  Taylor must have been close at hand, so promptly did he respond to hersummons.

  "Well, have you got him?" he cried sharply as he entered. "Where ishe--where's the necklace?"

  "You were wrong," she said triumphantly, "there is no necklace. I knew Iwas right."

  "You're crazy," he retorted brutally.

  "You said it was in the tobacco-pouch," she reminded him, "and I'vesearched and it isn't there at all."

  "You're trying to protect him," Taylor snarled. "You're stuck on him,but you can't lie to me and get away with it."

  "No, no, no," she protested. "Look, here's the very pouch, and there'sno necklace in it."

  "How did you get hold of it?" he snapped.

  It was a moment of bitter failure for the deputy-surveyor. The sign forwhich he had waited patiently, and eagerly, too, despite his impassiveface, was, after all, nothing but a token of disappointment. He hadhoped, now that events had given him a hold over Miss Cartwright, tofind her well-fitted for a sort of work that would have been peculiarlyuseful to his service. But her ready credulity in another man's honestyproved one of two things. Either that she lacked the intuitive knowledgeto be a useful tool or else that she was deliberately trying to deceivehim. But none had seen Daniel Taylor show that he realized himself indanger of being beaten.

  "He left it lying on the table," she assured him eagerly.

  Taylor's sneer was not pleasant to see.

  "Oh, he left it on the table, did he?" he scoffed. "Well, of coursethere's no necklace in it then. Don't you see you've let him suspectyou, and he's just trying to bluff you."

  "It isn't that," she asserted. "He hasn't got it, I tell you."

  "I know he has," the implacable Taylor retorted, "and you've got to findout this very night where it is. You'll probably have to search hisroom."

  She shrank back at the very thought of it. "I couldn't," she cried. "Oh,I couldn't!"

  "Yes you could, and you will," he said, in his truculent tone. "And ifyou land him, use the same signal, pull down the shade in his room.We'll be watching, and I've found a way to get there from the balcony."

  "I can't," the girl cried in desperation. "I've done what you asked. Iwon't try to trap an innocent man."

  He looked at her threateningly. "Oh, you won't, eh? Well, you will. I'vebeen pretty nice to you, but I'm sick of it. You'll go through for me,and you'll go through right. I've had your sister followed--see here,look at this--" He showed her the fake warrant Duncan had prepared athis bidding. "This is a warrant for her arrest, and unless you land thatnecklace to-night, she'll be in the Tombs in the morning."

  "Not that, not that?" she begged, covering her face with her hands.

  "It's up to you," he retorted, a smile of satisfaction lighting up hisface. He could see that he would be able to hold Amy's warrant over herhead whenever he chose. She was beaten.

  "But what can I do?" she said piteously. "What can I do?"

  "I'll tell you," he said less harshly, "you're a good-looking girl;well, make use of your good looks--get around him, jolly him, get himstuck on you. Make him take you into his confidence. He'll fall for it.The wisest guys are easy when you know the way."

  "Very well," she said, brightening. It seemed to her that no better waycould be devised than to convince Taylor he was wrong. "I will getaround him; I will get his confidence. I'll prove it to you, and I'llsave him."

  "But you don't have to give him your confidence, remember," Taylorwarned her. "Don't give him the least tip-off, understand. If you canget him out in the garden, I'll take a chance he has the necklace onhim. We'll nail him there. And don't forget," he added significantly,"that I've got a little document here with your sister's name on it.There's somebody coming," he whispered, and silently let himself outinto the garden.

  It was Denby who came in. "Hello," he said, "not dancing, then?"

  "Hello," she said, in answer to his greeting. "I don't like dancing inAugust."

  "I'm fortunate to find you alone," he said. "You can't imagine howdelightful it is to see you again."

  Her manner was particularly charming, he thought, and it gave him a pangwhen a suspicion of its cause passed over his mind. There had been otherwomen who had sought to wheedle from him secrets that other men desiredto know, but they were other women--and this was Ethel Cartwright.

  "You don't look as though it is," she said provocatively.

  He made an effort to appear as light-hearted as she.

  "But I am," he assured her. "It is delightful to see you again."

  "It's no more delightful than for me to see you," she returned.

  "Really?" he returned. "Isn't it curious that when you like people youmay not see them for a year, but when you do, you begin just where youleft off."

  "Where did we leave off?" she demanded with a smile.
/>   "Why--in Paris," he said with a trace of embarrassment. "You don't wantto forget our Paris, I hope?"

  "Never," she cried, enthusiastically. "It was there we found that wereally were congenial. We are, aren't we?"

  "Congenial?" he repeated. "We're more than that--we're--"

  She interrupted him. "And yet, somehow, you've changed a lot sinceParis."

  "For better or for worse?" he asked.

  She shook her head. "For worse."

  He looked at her reproachfully. "Oh, come now, Miss Cartwright, befair!"

  "In Paris you used to trust me," she said.

  "And you think I don't now?" he returned.

  "I'm quite sure you don't," she told him.

  "Why do you say that?" Denby inquired.

  "There are lots of things," she answered. "One is that when I asked youwhy you were here in America, you put me off with some playful excuseabout being just an idler." She looked at him with a vivacious air.

  "Now didn't you really come over on an important mission?"

  Poor Denby, who had been telling himself that Monty's suspicions werewithout justification, and that this girl's good faith could not bedoubted even if several circumstances were beyond his power to explain,groaned inwardly. Here she was, trying, he felt certain, to gain hisconfidence to satisfy the men who were even now investing the house.

  But he was far from giving in yet. How could she, one of VernonCartwright's daughters, reared in an atmosphere wholly different fromthis sordid business, be engaged in trying to betray him?

  "Well," he said, "suppose I did come over on something more thanpleasure, what do you want to know concerning it? And why do you want toknow?"

  "Shall we say feminine curiosity?" she returned.

  He shook his head. "I think not. There must be something more vital thana mere whim."

  "Perhaps there is," she conceded, leaning forward, "I want us to befriends, really good friends; I regard it as a test of friendship. Whywon't you tell me?"

  He shrugged his shoulders. "Shall we say man's intuition? Oh, I knowit's not supposed to be as good as a woman's, but sometimes it's muchmore accurate."

  "So you can't trust me?" she said, steadily trying to read his thoughts.

  "Can I?" he asked, gazing back at her just as steadily.

  "Don't you think you can?" she fenced adroitly.

  "If you do," he said meaningly.

  "But aren't we friends," she asked him, "pledged that night under themoon in the Bois? You see I, too, have memories of Paris."

  "Then you put it," he said quietly, "to a test of friendship."

  "Yes," she answered readily.

  He thought for a moment. Well, here was the opportunity to find outwhether Monty was right or whether the woman he cared for was merely aspy set upon him, a woman whose kindnesses and smiles were part of hertraining.

  "Very well," he said, "then so do I. You are right. I did not come toAmerica idly--I came to smuggle a necklace of pearls through theCustoms. I did it to-day."

  The girl rose from her seat by the little table where she had sat facinghim and looked at him, all the brightness gone from her face.

  "You didn't, you didn't!"

  "I did," he assured her.

  She turned her face away from him. "Oh, I'm sorry," she wailed. "I'msorry."

  Denby looked at her keenly. He was puzzled at the manner in which shetook it.

  "But I fooled 'em," he boasted.

  She looked about her nervously as though she feared Taylor might havelistened to his frank admission and be ready to spring upon them.

  "You can't tell that," she said in a lower-keyed voice. "How can you besure they didn't suspect?"

  "Because I'm comfortably settled here, and there are no detectives afterme. And if there were," he confided in her triumphantly, "they'd neversuspect I carry the necklace in my tobacco-pouch."

  "But your pouch was empty," she cried.

  "How do you know that?" he demanded quickly.

  "I was here when Lambart spilt it," she explained hastily. "There it ison the mantel, I meant to have given it to you."

  "I don't need it," he said, taking one similar in shape and color fromhis pocket.

  "Two pouches!" she cried aghast. "Two?"

  "An unnecessary precaution," he said carelessly, "one would have done;as it is they haven't suspected me a bit."

  "You can't be certain of that," she insisted. "If they found out they'dput you in prison."

  "And would you care?" he demanded.

  "Why, of course I would," she responded. "Aren't we friends?"

  He had that same steady look in his eyes as he asked: "Are we?"

  It was a gaze she could not bring herself to meet. Assuredly, shegroaned, she was not of the stuff from which the successful adventuresswas made.

  "Of course," she murmured in reply. "But what are you going to do?"

  "I've made my plans," he told her. "I've been very careful. I've givenmy confidence to two people only, both of whom I trust absolutely--MontyVaughan and"--he looked keenly at her,--"and you. I shan't be caught. Iwon't give in, and I'll stop at nothing, no matter what it costs, orwhom it hurts. I've got to win."

  It seemed to him she made an ejaculation of distress. "What is it?" hecried.

  "Nothing much," she said nervously, "it's the heat, I suppose. That'swhy I wouldn't dance, you know. Won't you take me into the garden andwe'll look at the moon--it's the same moon," she said, with a desperateair of trying to conceal from him her agitation, "that shines in Paris.It's gorgeous," she added, looking across the room where no moon was.

  "Surely," he said. "It is rather stuffy indoors on a night like this."He moved leisurely over to the French windows. But she called him back.She was not yet keyed up to this supreme act of treachery.

  "No, no," she called again, "don't let's go, after all."

  "Why not?" he demanded, bewildered at her fitful mood.

  "I don't know," she said helplessly. "But let's stay here. I'm nervous,I think."

  "Nonsense," he said cheerily, trying to brace her up. "The moon is agreat soother of nerves, and a friendly old chap, too. What is it?" heasked curiously. "You're miles away from here, but I don't think you'rein Paris, either. It's your turn to tell me something. Where are you?"

  He could not guess that her thoughts were in her home, where her poor,gentle, semi-invalid mother was probably now worrying over the suddenmood of depression which had fallen upon her younger girl. And it wouldbe impossible for him to understand the threat of prison and disgracewhich was even now hanging over Amy Cartwright's head.

  "I was thinking of my sister," she told him slowly. "Come, let's go."

  Before he could unfasten the French windows there was a sound of runningfeet outside, and Monty's nervous face was seen looking in. Nora,breathless, was hanging on to his arm.

  Quickly Denby opened the doors and let the two in, and then shut thedoors again. "What is it?" he demanded quickly.

  "Don't go out there, Steve," Monty cried, when he could get breathenough to speak.

  "Why, what is it?" Ethel Cartwright asked nervously.

  "Nora and I went for a walk in the garden, and suddenly two men jumpedout on us from behind the pagoda. They had almost grabbed us when oneman shouted to the other fellow, 'We're wrong,' and Nora screamed andran like the very devil, and I had to run after her of course."

  "It was dreadful," said Nora gasping.

  "What's dreadful?" Alice Harrington demanded, coming on the scenefollowed by her husband. They had been disturbed by Nora's screams.

  "Won't someone please explain?" Michael asked anxiously.

  "It was frightful," Nora cried.

  "Let me tell it," Monty protested.

  "You'll get it all wrong," his companion asserted. "I wasn't half asscared as you."

  "I was talking to Nora," Monty explained, "and suddenly from theshrubbery--"

  "Somebody stepped right out," Nora added.

  "One at a time," Michael admonished
them, "one at a time, please."

  "Why, you see, Monty and I went for a walk in the garden," Nora began--

  "And two men jumped out and started for us," Monty broke in.

  "Great Scott," Michael cried, indignant that the privacy of his ownestate should be invaded, "and here, too!"

  "What did you do?" Alice asked eagerly.

  "I just screamed and they ran away," Nora told her a little proudly."Wasn't it exciting?" she added, drawing a deep breath. "Just like abook!"

  "Michael," his wife said, shocked, "they might have been killed."

  "What they need is a drink," he said impressively; "I'll ring for somebrandy."

  "I'd be all right," Monty stated emphatically, "if I could get one longbreath."

  "You do look a bit shaken, old man," Denby said sympathetically. "Whatyou need is a comforting smoke. You left a pipe on the table in my room.Take my tobacco and light up."

  Monty looked at the pigskin pouch as his friend handed it to him. "Gee!"he said, regarding it as one might a poisonous reptile, "I don't wantthat."

  "That's all right," Denby said. "I can spare it. And when you're throughwith it, drop it in the drawer of the writing-table, will you? I alwayslike to make myself one for coffee in the morning. I've smoked enoughto-night."

  By this time Monty understood what was required of him. He took thepouch respectfully and crossed toward the stairs. "I'll leave it in thedrawer," he called out as he ascended the stairs.

  Michael had been looking through the glass doors with a pair ofbinoculars. "I see nothing," he declared.

  "But suppose they come back later, and break in here at night?" Alicecried.

  "I shall organize the household servants and place Lambart at theirhead," he said gravely. "He is an excellent shot. Then there are threeable-bodied men here, so that we are prepared."

  "I'm sure you needn't take any such elaborate precautions," Denby toldhim. "No men, after once warning us, would break in here with so manyservants. I imagine they were a couple of tramps who were attracted byMiss Rutledge's rings and thought they could make a quick getaway."

  "This is a lesson to me to provide myself with a couple of Airedales,"Michael asserted. "Things are coming to a pretty pass when one invitesone's friends to come down to a week-end party and get robbed. It'sworse than a hotel on the Riviera."

  "Well, they didn't get anything," Nora cried. "You should have seen merun. I believe I flew, and I do believe I've lost weight!"

  "But oughtn't I to go out and see?" Michael asked a little weakly.

  "Certainly not," Alice commanded him firmly. "I can imagine nothing moreuseless than a dead husband."

  He took her hand affectionately. "How right you are," he murmuredgratefully. "I think, though, I ought to ask the police to keep a sharpwatch."

  "That's sensible," his wife agreed. "Go and telephone."

  "Goodness," Nora cried suddenly, "I haven't any rings on. I must haveleft them on my dressing-table."

  Alice looked alarmed. "And I left all sorts of things on mine. Let's goup together. And you, Ethel, have you left anything valuable about?"

  "There's nothing worth taking," the girl answered.

  "You look frightened to death, child," Mrs. Harrington exclaimed, as shewas passing her.

  Ethel sat down on the fender seat with a smile of assurance. "Oh, not abit," she said. "There are three strong men to protect us, remember."

  "Yes--two men and Michael," her hostess laughed, passing up the stairwayout of view.

  "The moon is still there, Miss Cartwright," Denby observed quietly."Surely you are not tired of moons yet?"

  "But those men out there," she protested.

  "I'm sure they weren't after me," he returned. "They wouldn't wait inthe garden, and even if they are detectives, they wouldn't get thenecklace, it's safe--now."

  Ethel Cartwright shook her head. "I'm afraid I've got nerves like everyother woman," she confessed, "and the evening has been quite eventfulenough as it is. I think I prefer to stay here."

  She glanced up to see Monty descending the stairs. All this talk ofrobbery and actual participation in a scene of violence had induced inMonty the desire for the company of his kind.

  "I thought I'd rather be down here," he stated naively.

  "All right, old man," Denby said smiling. "Glad to have you. Did you putthe pouch where I said?"

  "Yes," Monty answered, handing him a key, "and I locked it up," heexplained.

  "Good!" his friend exclaimed, putting the key in his pocket.

  Miss Cartwright yawned daintily. "Excitement seems to make me sleepy,"she said. "I think I shall go."

  "You're not going to leave us yet?" Denby said reproachfully.

  "I was up very early," she told him.

  "I guess everything is safe now," Monty assured her.

  "Let's hope so," Denby said. "Still, the night isn't half over yet.Pleasant dreams, Miss Cartwright."

  She paused on the half landing and looked down at the two men.

  "I'm afraid they won't be quite--that."

  Monty crept to the foot of the stairway and made certain she was passedout of hearing. "Steve," he said earnestly, "she's gone now to get intoyour room."

  "No, she hasn't," Denby protested, knowing he was lying.

  Monty looked at his friend in wonderment. Usually Denby was quick ofobservation, but now he seemed uncommonly dull.

  "Why, she never made a move to leave until she knew I'd put the pouch inthe drawer. Then she said she was tired and wanted to go to bed. Youmust have noticed how she took in everything you said. She's even takento watching me, too. What makes you so blind, Steve?"

  "I'm not blind," Denby said, a trifle irritably. "It happens you aremagnifying things, till everything you see is wrong."

  "Nonsense," Monty returned bluntly. "If she gets that necklace it's allup with us, and you needn't pretend otherwise."

  "Make your mind easy," Denby exclaimed, "she won't get it."

  "May I ask what's going to stop her?" Monty inquired, goaded intosarcasm. "Do you think she needs to know the combination of an ordinarylock like that top drawer?"

  "The necklace isn't there," Denby said.

  Monty looked at him piteously. "For Heaven's sake don't tell me I've gotit somewhere on me!"

  Denby drew it out of a false pocket under the right lapel of his coatand held the precious string up to the other's view. "That's why," heobserved.

  "Then everything's all right," Monty cried with unrestrained joy.

  "Everything's all wrong," Denby corrected.

  "But, Steve," Monty said reproachfully, "the necklace--"

  "Oh, damn the necklace!" Denby interrupted viciously.

  Monty shook his head mournfully. His friend's aberrations wereastounding.

  "Steve," he said slowly, "you're a fool!"

  "I guess I am," the other admitted. "But," he added, snapping his teethtogether, "I'm not such a fool as to get caught, Monty, so pull yourselftogether, something's bound to happen before long."

  "That's what I'm afraid of," sighed Monty.