Green Fancy

by George Barr McCutcheon

  CHAPTER XV

  LARGE BODIES MOVE SLOWLY,--BUT MR. SPROUSE WAS SMALLER THAN THE AVERAGE

  There was not a sound for many seconds. The trapped couple in thestone-cutter's shed scarcely breathed. She was the first to speak.

  "I am ready to return with you, Mr. O'Dowd," she said, distinctly."There must be no struggle, no blood-shed. Anything but that."

  She felt Barnes's body stiffen and caught the muttered execration thatfell from his lips.

  O'Dowd spoke out of the darkness: "You forget that I have your own wordfor it that ye'll be a dead woman before the day is over. Wouldn't itbe better for me to begin shooting at once and spare your soul theeverlasting torture that would begin immediately after yourself-produced decease?"

  A little cry of relief greeted this quaint sally. "You have my wordthat I will return with you quietly if--"

  "Thunderation!" exclaimed Barnes wrathfully. "What do you think I am? Aworm that--"

  "Easy, easy, me dear man," cautioned O'Dowd. "Keep your seat. Don't bedeceived by my infernal Irish humour. It is my way to be always polite,agreeable and--prompt. I'll shoot in a second if ye move one stepoutside that cabin."

  "O'Dowd, you haven't the heart to drag her back to that beast of a--"

  "Hold hard! We'll come to the point without further palavering. Whereare ye dragging her yourself, ye rascal?"

  "To a place where she will be safe from insult, injury, degradation--"

  "Well, I have no fault to find with ye for that," said O'Dowd. "Bedad,I didn't believe you had the nerve to tackle the job. To be honest withyou, I hadn't the remotest idea who the divvil you were, either of you,until I heard your voices. You may be interested to know that up to themoment I left the house your absence had not been noticed, my dear MissCameron. And as for you, my dear Barnes, your visit is not evensuspected. By this time, of course, the list of the missing at GreenFancy is headed by an honourable and imperishable name,--which isn'tCameron,--and there is an increased wailing and gnashing of teeth. Howthe divvil did ye do it, Barnes?"

  "Are you disposed to be friendly, O'Dowd?" demanded Barnes. "If you arenot, we may just as well fight it out now as later on. I do not mean tosubmit without a--"

  "You are not to fight!" she cried in great agitation. "What are youdoing? Put it away! Don't shoot!"

  "Is it a gun he is pulling" inquired O'Dowd calmly. "And what the deuceare you going to aim at, me hearty?"

  "It may sound cowardly to you, O'Dowd, but I have an advantage over youin the presence of Miss Cameron. You don't dare shoot into this shed.You--"

  "Lord love ye, Barnes, haven't you my word that I will not shoot unlessye try to come out? And I know you wouldn't use her for a shield.Besides, I have a bull's-eye lantern with me. From the luxurious seatbehind this rock I could spot ye in a second. Confound you, man, youought to thank me for being so considerate as not to flash it on youbefore. I ask ye now, isn't that proof that I'm a gentleman and not abounder? Having said as much, I now propose arbitration. What have yeto offer in the shape of concessions?"

  "I don't know what you mean."

  "I'll be explicit. Would you mind handing over that tin box in exchangefor my polite thanks and a courteous good-by to both of ye?"

  "Tin box?" cried Barnes.

  "We have no box of any description, Mr. O'Dowd," cried she,triumphantly. "Thank heaven, he got safely away!"

  "Do you mean to tell me you came away without the--your belongings,Miss Cameron?" exclaimed O'Dowd.

  "They are not with me," she replied. Her grasp on Barnes's armtightened. "Oh, isn't it splendid? They did not catch him. He--"

  "Catch him? Catch who?" cried O'Dowd.

  "Ah, that is for you to find out, my dear O'Dowd," said Barnes,assuming a satisfaction he did not feel.

  "Well, I'll be--jiggered," came in low, puzzled tones from the rocksoutside. "Did you have a--a confederate, Barnes? Didn't you do thewhole job yourself?"

  "I did my part of the job, as you call it, O'Dowd, and nothing more."

  "Will you both swear on your sacred honour that ye haven't the jewelsin your possession?"

  "Unhesitatingly," said Barnes.

  "I swear, Mr. O'Dowd."

  "Then," said he, "I have no time to waste here. I am looking for a tinbox. I beg your pardon for disturbing you."

  "Oh, Mr. O'Dowd, I shall never forget all that you have--"

  "Whist, now! There is one thing I must insist on your forgettingcompletely: all that has happened in the last five minutes. I shall putno obstacles in your way. You may go with my blessings. The only favourI ask in return is that you never mention having seen me to-night."

  "We can do that with a perfectly clear conscience," said Barnes. "Youare absolutely invisible."

  "What I am doing now, Mr. Barnes," said O'Dowd seriously, "would be mydeath sentence if it ever became known."

  "It shall never be known through me, O'Dowd. I'd like to shake yourhand, old man."

  "God bless you, Mr. O'Dowd," said the girl in a low, small voice,singularly suggestive of tears. "Some day I may be in a position to--"

  "Don't say it! You'll spoil everything if you let me think you are inmy debt. Bedad, don't be so sure I sha'n't see you again, and soon. Youare not out of the woods yet."

  "Tell me how to find Hart's Tavern, old man. I'll--"

  "No, I'm dashed if I do. I leave you to your own devices. You ought tobe grateful to me for not stopping you entirely, without asking me togive you a helping hand. Good-bye, and God bless you. I'm praying thatye get away safely, Miss Cameron. So long, Barnes. If you were a crowand wanted to roost on that big tree in front of Hart's Tavern, I daresay you'd take the shortest way there by flying as straight as a bulletfrom the mouth of this pit, following your extremely good-looking nose."

  They heard him rattle off among the loose stones and into the brush. Along time afterward, when the sounds had ceased, Barnes said, from thebottom of a full heart:

  "I shall always feel something warm stirring within me when I think ofthat man."

  "He is a gallant gentleman," said she simply.

  They did not wait for the break of day. Taking O'Dowd's hint, Barnesdirected his steps straight out from the mouth of the quarry andpressed confidently onward. Their progress was swifter than before andless cautious. The thought had come to him that the men from GreenFancy would rush to the outer edges of the Curtis land and seek tointercept, rather than to overtake, the fugitive. In answer to aquestion she informed him that there were no fewer than twenty-five menon the place, all of them shrewd, resolute and formidable.

  "The women, who are they, and what part do they play in thisenterprise?" he inquired, during a short pause for rest.

  "Mrs. Collier is the widow of a spy executed in France at the beginningof the war. She is an American and was married to a--to a foreigner.The Van Dykes are very rich Americans,--at least she has a great dealof money. Her husband was in the diplomatic service some years ago butwas dismissed. There was a huge gambling scandal and he was involved.His wife is determined to force her way into court circles in Europe.She has money, she is clever and unprincipled, and--I am convincedthat she is paying in advance for future favours and position at acertain court. She--"

  "In other words, she is financing the game up at Green Fancy."

  "I suppose so. She has millions, I am told. Mr. De Soto is a Spaniard,born and reared in England. All of them are known in my country."

  "I can't understand a decent chap like O'Dowd being mixed up in arotten--"

  "Ah, but you do not understand. He is a soldier of fortune, anadventurer. His heart is better than his reputation. It is the love ofintrigue, the joy of turmoil that commands him. He has been mixed up,as you say, in any number of secret enterprises, both good and bad. Hissister's children are the owners of Green Fancy. I know her well. Itwas through Mr. O'Dowd that I came to Green Fancy. Too late he realisedthat it was a mistake. He was deceived. He has known me for years andhe would not have exposed me to----But come! As he has said
, we are notyet out of the woods."

  "I cannot, for the life of me, see why they took chances on inviting meto the house, Miss Cameron. They must have known that--"

  "It was a desperate chance but it was carefully considered, you may besure. They are clever, all of them. They were afraid of you. It wasnecessary to deal openly, boldly, with you if your suspicions were tobe removed."

  "But they must have known that you would appeal to me."

  She was silent for a moment, and when she spoke it was with greatintensity. "Mr. Barnes, I had your life in my hands all the time youwere at Green Fancy. It was I who took the desperate chance. I shuddernow when I think of what might have happened. Before you were asked tothe house, I was coolly informed that you would not leave it alive if Iso much as breathed a word to you concerning my unhappy plight. Thefirst word of an appeal to you would have been the signal for--for yourdeath. That is what they held over me. They made it very clear to methat nothing was to be gained by an appeal to you. You would die, and Iwould be no better off than before. It was I who took the chance. WhenI spoke to you on the couch that night, I--oh, don't you see? Don't yousee that I wantonly, cruelly, selfishly risked YOUR life,--not myown,--when I--"

  "There, there, now!" he cried, consolingly, as she put her hands to herface and gave way to sobs. "Don't let THAT worry you. I am here andalive, and so are you, and--for Heaven's sake don't do that! I--Isimply go all to pieces when I hear a woman crying. I--"

  "Forgive me," she murmured. "I didn't mean to be so silly."

  "It helps, to cry sometimes," he said lamely.

  The first faint signs of day were struggling out of the night when theystole across the road above Hart's Tavern and made their way throughthe stable-yard to the rear of the house. His one thought was to gether safely inside the Tavern. There he could defy the legions of GreenFancy, and from there he could notify her real friends, deliver herinto their keeping,--and then regret the loss of her!

  The door was locked. He delivered a series of resounding kicks upon itsstout face. Revolver in hand, he faced about and waited for the assaultof the men who, he was sure, would come plunging around the corner ofthe building in response to the racket. He was confident that theapproach to the Tavern was watched by desperate men from Green Fancy,and that an encounter with them was inevitable. But there was noattack. Save for his repeated pounding on the door, there was no signof life about the place.

  At last there were sounds from within. A key grated in the lock and abolt was shot. The door flew open. Mr. Clarence Dillingford appeared inthe opening, partially dressed, his hair sadly tumbled, his eyesblinking in the light of the lantern he held aloft.

  "Well, what the--" Then his gaze alighted on the lady. "My God," hegulped, and instantly put all of his body except the head and one armbehind the door.

  Barnes crowded past him with his faltering charge, and slammed thedoor. Moreover, he quickly shot the bolt.

  "For the love of--" began the embarrassed Dillingford. "What the dev--Isay, can't you see that I'm not dressed? What the--"

  "Give me that lantern," said Barnes, and snatched the article out ofthe unresisting hand. "Show me the way to Miss Thackeray's room,Dillingford. No time for explanations. This lady is a friend of mine."

  "Well, for the love of--"

  "I will take you to Miss Thackeray's room," said Barnes, leading herswiftly through the narrow passage. "She will make you comfortable forthe--that is until I am able to secure a room for you. Come on,Dillingford."

  "My God, Barnes, have you been in an automobile smash-up? You--"

  "Don't wake the house! Where is her room?"

  "You know just as well as I do. All right,--all right! Don't bite me!I'm coming."

  Miss Thackeray was awake. She had heard the pounding. Through theclosed door she asked what on earth was the matter.

  "I have a friend here,--a lady. Will you dress as quickly as possibleand take her in with you for a little while?" He spoke as softly aspossible.

  There was no immediate response from the inside. Then Miss Thackerayobserved, quite coldly: "I think I'd like to hear the lady's voice, ifyou don't mind. I recognise yours perfectly, Mr. Barnes, but I am notin the habit of opening my--"

  "Mr. Barnes speaks the truth," said Miss Cameron. "But pray do notdisturb--"

  "I guess I don't need to dress," said Miss Thackeray, and opened herdoor. "Come in, please. I don't know who you are or what you've been upto, but there are times when women ought to stand together. And what'smore, I sha'n't ask any questions."

  She closed the door behind the unexpected guest, and Barnes gave agreat sigh of relief.

  "Say, Mr. Barnes," said Miss Thackeray, several hours later, comingupon him in the hall; "I guess I'll have to ask you to explain alittle. She's a nice, pretty girl, and all that, but she won't open herlips about anything. She says you will do the talking. I'm a goodsport, you know, and not especially finicky, but I'd like to--"

  "How is she? Is she resting? Does she seem--"

  "Well, she's stretched out in my bed, with my best nightie on, and sheseems to be doing as well as could be expected," said Miss Thackeraydryly.

  "Has she had coffee and--"

  "I am going after it now. It seems that she is in the habit of havingit in bed. I wish I had her imagination. It would be great to imaginethat all you have to do is to say 'I think I'll have coffee and rollsand one egg' sent up, and then go on believing your wish would cometrue. Still, I don't mind. She seems so nice and pathetic, and introuble, and I--"

  "Thank you, Miss Thackeray. If you will see that she has her coffee,I'll--I'll wait for you here in the hall and try to explain. I can'ttell you everything at present,--not without her consent,--but what Ido tell will be sufficient to make you think you are listening to achapter out of a dime novel."

  He had already taken Putnam Jones into his confidence. He saw no otherway out of the new and somewhat extraordinary situation.

  His uneasiness increased to consternation when he discovered thatSprouse had not yet put in an appearance. What had become of the man?He could not help feeling, however, that somehow the little agent wouldsuddenly pop out of the chimney in his room, or sneak in through acrack under the door,--and laugh at his fears.

  His lovely companion, falling asleep, blocked all hope of a council ofwar, so to speak. Miss Thackeray refused to allow her to be disturbed.She listened with sparkling eyes to Barnes's curtailed account of theexploit of the night before. He failed to mention Mr. Sprouse. It wasnot an oversight.

  "Sort of white slavery game, eh?" she said, with bated breath. "Goodgracious, Mr. Barnes, if this story ever gets into the newspapersyou'll be the grandest little hero in--"

  "But it must never get into the newspapers," he cried.

  "It ought to," she proclaimed stoutly. "When a gang of white slaverskidnap a girl like that and--"

  "I'm not saying it was that," he protested, uncomfortably.

  "Well, I guess I'll talk to her about that part of the story," saidMiss Thackeray sagely. "And as you say, mum's the word. We don't wantthem to get onto the fact that she's here. That's the idea, isn't it?"

  "Absolutely."

  "Then," she said, wrinkling her brow, "I wouldn't repeat this story toMr. Lyndon Rushcroft, father of yours truly. He would blab it all overthe county. The greatest press stuff in the world. Listen to it:'Lyndon Rushcroft, the celebrated actor, takes part in the rescue of abeautiful heiress who falls into the hands of So and So, the king ofkidnappers.' That's only a starter. So we'd better let him think shejust happened in. You fix it with old Jones, and I'll see that Dillykeeps his mouth shut. I fear I shall have to tell Mr. Bacon." Sheblushed. "I have always sworn I'd never marry any one in theprofession, but--Mr. Bacon is not like other actors, Mr. Barnes. Youwill say so yourself when you know him better. He is more likea--a--well, you might say a poet. His soul is--but, you'll think I'mnutty if I go on about him. As soon as she awakes, I'll take her up tothe room you've engaged for her, and I'll lend her some of m
y duds,bless her heart. What an escape she's had! Oh, my God!"

  She uttered the exclamation in a voice so full of horror that Barneswas startled.

  "What is it, Miss Thack--"

  "Why, they might have nabbed me yesterday when I was up there in thewoods! And I don't know what kind of heroism goes with a poetic nature.I'm afraid Mr. Bacon--"

  He laughed. "I am sure he would have acted like a man."

  "If you were to ask father, he'd say that Mr. Bacon can't act like aman to save his soul. He says he acts like a fence-post."

  Shortly before the noon hour, Peter Ames halted the old automobile fromGreen Fancy in front of the Tavern and out stepped O'Dowd, followed byno less a personage than the pseudo Mr. Loeb. There were a number oftravelling bags in the tonneau of the car.

  Catching sight of Barnes, the Irishman shouted a genial greeting.

  "The top of the morning to ye. You remember Mr. Loeb, don't you? Mr.Curtis's secretary."

  He shook hands with Barnes. Loeb bowed stiffly and did not extend hishand.

  "Mr. Loeb is leaving us for a few days on business. Will you be movingon yourself soon, Mr. Barnes?"

  "I shall hang around here a few days longer," said Barnes, considerablypuzzled but equal to the occasion. "Still interested in our murdermystery, you know."

  "Any new developments?"

  "Not to my knowledge." He ventured a crafty "feeler." "I hear, however,that the state authorities have asked assistance of the secret servicepeople in Washington. That would seem to indicate that there is morebehind the affair than--"

  "Have I not maintained from the first, Mr. O'Dowd, that it is a casefor the government to handle?" interrupted Loeb. He spoke rapidly andwith unmistakable nervousness. Barnes remarked the extraordinary pallorin the man's face and the shifty, uneasy look in his dark eyes. "It hasbeen my contention, Mr. Barnes, that those men were trying to carry outtheir part of a plan to inflict--"

  "Lord love ye, Loeb, you are not alone in that theory," broke in O'Dowdhastily. "I think we're all agreed on that. Good morning, Mr.Boneface," he called out to Putnam Jones who approached at thatjuncture. "We are sadly in want of gasoline."

  Peter had backed the car up to the gasoline hydrant at the corner ofthe building and was waiting for some one to replenish his tank. Barnescaught the queer, perplexed look that the Irishman shot at him out ofthe corner of his eye.

  "Perhaps you'd better see that the scoundrels don't give us shortmeasure, Mr. Loeb," said O'Dowd. Loeb hesitated for a second, and then,evidently in obedience to a command from the speaker's eye, moved offto where Peter was opening the intake. Jones followed, bawling to someone in the stable-yard.

  O'Dowd lowered his voice. "Bedad, your friend made a smart job of itlast night. He opened the tank back of the house and let every damn'bit of our gas run out. Is she safe inside?"

  "Yes, thanks to you, old man. You didn't catch him?"

  "Not even a whiff of him," said the other lugubriously. "The devil's topay. In the name of God, how many were in your gang last night?"

  "That is for Mr. Loeb to find out," said Barnes shrewdly.

  "Barnes, I let you off last night, and I let her off as well. Inreturn, I ask you to hold your tongue until the man down there gets afair start." O'Dowd was serious, even imploring.

  "What would she say to that, O'Dowd? I have to consider her interests,you know."

  "She'd give him a chance for his white alley, I'm sure, in spite of theway he treated her. There is a great deal at stake, Barnes. A day'sstart and--"

  "Are you in danger too, O'Dowd?"

  "To be sure,--but I love it. I can always squirm out of tight places.You see, I am putting myself in your hands, old man."

  "I would not deliberately put you in jeopardy, O'Dowd."

  "See here, I am going back to that house up yonder. There is still workfor me there. What I'm after now is to get him on the train atHornville. I'll be here again at four o'clock, on me word of honour.Trust me, Barnes. When I explain to her, she'll agree that I'm doingthe right thing. Bedad, the whole bally game is busted. Another weekand we'd have--but, there ye are! It's all up in the air, thanks to youand your will-o'-the-wisp rascals. You played the deuce witheverything."

  "Do you mean to say that you are coming back here to run the risk ofbeing--"

  "We've had word that the government has men on the way. They'll be hereto-night or to-morrow, working in cahoots with the fellows across theborder. Why, damn it all, Barnes, don't you know who it was thatengineered that whole business last night?" He blurted it out angrily,casting off all reserve.

  Barnes smiled. "I do. He is a secret agent from the embassy--"

  "Secret granny!" almost shouted O'Dowd. "He is the slickest, cleverestcrook that ever drew the breath of life. And he's got away with thejewels, for which you can whistle in vain, I'm thinking."

  "For Heaven's sake, O'Dowd--" began Barnes, his blood like ice in hisveins.

  "But don't take my word for it. Ask her,--upstairs there, God blessher!--ask her if she knows Chester Naismith. She'll tell ye, my bucko.He's been standing guard outside her window for the past three nights.He's--"

  "Now, I know you are mistaken," cried Barnes, a wave of relief surgingover him. "He has been in this Tavern every night--"

  "Sure he has. But he never was here after eleven o'clock, was he?Answer me, did ye ever see him here after eleven in the evening? Youdid not,--not until last night, anyhow. In the struggle he had withNicholas last night his whiskers came off and he was recognised. That'swhy poor old Nicholas is lying dead up there at the house now,--andwill have a decent burial unbeknownst to anybody but his friends."

  "Whiskers? Dead?" jerked from Barnes's lips.

  "Didn't you know he had false ones on?"

  "He did not have them on when he left me," declared Barnes. "Good God,O'Dowd, you can't mean that he--he killed--"

  "He stuck a knife in his neck. The poor devil died while I was outskirmishing, but not before he whispered in the chief's ear the name ofthe man who did for him. The dirty snake! And the chief trusted him asno crook ever was trusted before. He knew him for what he was, but hethought he was loyal. And this is what he gets in return for saving thedog's life in Buda Pesth three years ago. In the name of God, Barnes,how did you happen to fall in with the villain?"

  Barnes passed his hand over his brow, dazed beyond the power of speech.His gaze rested on Putnam Jones. Suddenly something seemed to havestruck him between the eyes. He almost staggered under the imaginaryimpact. Jones! Was Jones a party to this--He started forward, an oathon his lips, prepared to leap upon the man and throttle the truth outof him. As abruptly he checked himself. The cunning that inspired theactions of every one of these people had communicated itself to him. Afalse move now would ruin everything. Putnam Jones would have to behandled with gloves, and gently at that.

  "He--he represented himself as a book-agent," he mumbled, striving tocollect himself. "Jones knew him. Said he had been around here forweeks. I--I--

  "That's the man," said O'Dowd, scowling. "He trotted all over thecounty, selling books. For the love of it, do ye think? Not much. Hehad other fish to fry, you may be sure. I talked with him the night youdined at Green Fancy. He beat you to the Tavern, I dare say. It was hissecond night on guard below the--below her window. He told me how heshinned up and down one of these porch posts, so as not to let oldJones get onto the fact he was out of his room. He had old Jones fooledas badly--What are you glaring at HIM for? I was about to say he hadold Jones as badly fooled as you--or worse, damn him. Barnes, if weever lay hands on that friend of yours,--well, he won't have to fry inhell. He'll be burnt alive. Thank God, my mind's at rest on one score.SHE didn't skip out with him. They all think she did. Not one of themsuspects that she came away with you. There is plenty of evidence thatshe let him in through her window--"

  "All ready, O'Dowd," called Loeb. "Come along, please."

  "Coming," said the Irishman. To Barnes: "Don't blame yourself, old man.You are not the only on
e who has been hoodwinked. He fooled men a longshot keener than you are, so--All right! Coming. See you later, Barnes.So long!"