The Brand of Silence

by Harrington Strong

  CHAPTER XXV

  AN ACCUSATION

  Springing toward him, the masked man stopped two feet from the bound JimFarland.

  "So you think you know me, do you?" he snarled.

  "I have a pretty good idea," Farland said. "There are only a few men inthe city, to my knowledge, who could be hired to do work like this, andit occurs to me that I have seen those hands of yours before. I thinkyour face is in the rogues' gallery, too, if you want to know!"

  The masked man retreated for a few feet, evidently relieved.

  "So you'll not make terms with me," he said. "You'd rather work forSidney Prale, would you? Perhaps we can change your mind."

  "I doubt that like blazes!"

  "You are going to be kept here as a prisoner until I decide what is tobe done with you."

  He crossed over to the door, opened it, and called to his men, two ofwhom responded.

  "I want this man guarded well," he said. "I want you to understand thatI am holding you responsible for him. I'll be back to-morrow evening andhave another talk with him. Give him something to eat now and then, andfix him so he can sleep, but watch him all the time!"

  "I was figurin' on goin' to the city this mornin', boss," one of the menspoke up.

  "You'll do as I say!" the masked man cried.

  "But----"

  "Don't argue with me, you dog!"

  Farland saw the man's eyes flash fire for a moment. And then the maskedman faced toward him again, his eyes glittering through his mask.

  "Sometimes it isn't healthy to know whose picture is in the rogues'gallery!" he said.

  He went from the room. After a short argument one of the men remained toguard Farland, and the other went away. Farland spent a night of agony.His guards fixed the bonds so that he could be a bit more comfortable,and yet he got little sleep.

  Jim Farland was considering a big idea now. He had thrown the masked manoff guard by intimating that he might be a crook with a record, when, asa matter of fact, the detective did not believe him to be anything ofthe sort. Now Farland knew where to begin working, but he had to win hisfreedom first.

  Night passed, morning came, and the long day of agony began. Farland hadhis hands untied and was given some food. Then his wrists were lashedagain and his ankles loosened, and he was allowed to walk around theroom for an hour or so, two of the men watching him closely. The one towhom the masked man had applied the epithet, "dog," appeared surly.

  After they had bound him again and stretched him upon the couch, theyguarded him one at a time, evidently secure in the belief that he couldnot escape. Jim Farland thought a day never had seemed so long. All thetime he was busy with his thoughts. He had a plan of campaign outlinednow; he wanted to be at work.

  Once more the evening came. Farland, who had been sleeping for a fewminutes, awoke and turned over to find that his guard had been changedagain. The man who had been called a dog was on duty.

  "How long are you going to keep me tied up like this?" Jim Farlandasked.

  "Don't ask me. Ask the high and mighty boss," was the sneering reply.

  "You don't seem to stand very high with him."

  "Aw, he makes me sick sometimes."

  "It'd make me sick, too, if anybody called me a dog," Farland declared.

  The man before him did not reply to that, but Farland could see theanger burning in his face.

  "Come closer," Farland whispered.

  The man obeyed instantly.

  "Can anybody overhear what I say to you?"

  "No. Everybody's gone--but they'll be back soon."

  "Why are you working for these people?"

  "Coin, of course--and precious little of it I've seen so far," was thereply.

  "Then you haven't any other interest in this business? Maybe we can makea deal."

  "What sort of a deal?"

  "The man I work for is worth a million," Farland said. "Help me escape,and I'll give you five hundred dollars."

  "Got it with you?"

  "The biggest part of it," Farland replied.

  He told the truth, too, for he always carried plenty of money whileworking on a case.

  "Suppose I simply take it away from you," the guard said.

  "In the first place, I don't think you are that kind of a man. And youwant to get square with the man who called you a dog, don't you?"

  "What's your scheme?"

  "Simply let me go, right now. It is dusk outside already. Tell me how toget to town the quickest way. I'll give you almost all I have on me;I'll need a little to use to get back to the city. To-morrow I'll meetyou some place and give you the rest. In addition I'll give you a chanceto get out without being arrested for your part in abducting me andholding me here."

  The man spent a few minutes in thought.

  "I'll fix you so you can slip your bonds," he said, "and I'll hand yourautomatic back to you. It is there in the cupboard. But I don't want youto make a get-away while I'm guarding you--see? I don't exactly love theman who'll guard you next. I'll fix it so you can handle him. Wait forfive minutes after he comes and I have gone. I will be away for an houror so, and the escape can happen while I'm not here."

  "That suits me," Farland said.

  "What about the money?"

  "You'll get it just as soon as I get my hands loose."

  The guard walked to the hall door and opened it, peered out into thehall and listened. Then he hurried back to the couch and cut JimFarland's bonds. Farland took the money from one of his inside pocketsand handed it over. The guard got the weapon from the cupboard and gaveit to Farland.

  The detective stretched himself down on the couch again, and the guardadjusted the ropes on his ankles and wrists so that they would appear tobe all right. Farland slipped the automatic beneath the small of hisback, where he could reach it quickly.

  It was half an hour later before the guard was changed and Farland'sfriend hurried away, warning him with a glance that he should not make amove too soon. He had declined to meet the detective the following dayand get the few dollars still due him; he would rather use what healready had in getting out of town, he had said.

  Farland made no attempt to talk with the new guard. He pretended to betired, almost exhausted and sleepy. The guard sat beside the table,smoking and glancing at a newspaper now and then, apparently of theopinion that Farland was safely a prisoner.

  After waiting for about half an hour, the detective began moving hisankles and wrists gently. Gradually the ropes fell away. He reached onehand beneath his back and grasped the automatic. Then he sat up quicklyon the couch and covered the guard.

  "Put 'em up!" he commanded.

  The guard whirled from the table and sprang to his feet, surprisewritten on his countenance. Farland had arisen now, and advancing towardhim.

  "Walk past me to the couch!" the detective commanded.

  The guard started to obey. He was holding his hands above his head andseemed to be afraid that his captor would shoot. But as he came oppositeFarland, he lurched to one side and made an attempt to grapple with him.

  The detective did not fire. He sprang aside himself, swung theautomatic, and crashed it against the other man's temple. The guardgroaned once and dropped to the floor.

  "Thought you might try something like that!" Jim Farland growled."Couldn't have pleased me better--won't have to waste time tying you upnow. You'll be dead to the world for a few minutes at least!"

  Farland darted to the door, opened it, went into the hall and closed thedoor again. He passed through the house noiselessly. He could hear twomen in conversation in a rear room, and he knew that he would have to becautious until he was at some distance from the old dwelling, unless hewanted a battle on his hands.

  He got out of the place without being discovered, and reached the edgeof a grove not far away. There he found the lane, and near the end of itwas a powerful roadster, its engine dead and its lights extinguished.

  Farland listened a moment, then went forward and examined the machine.He knew t
he model, and he was an excellent driver. Once more he stoppedto listen. Then he sprang behind the wheel and operated the starter.

  He drove slowly down the lane, the engine almost silent, the cartraveling slowly. He proceeded in that manner until he had reached thehighway. There he switched on the lights, put on speed, and sent thepowerful car roaring along the winding road toward the river.

  Jim Farland, being a modest man, never did tell the entire story of thatnight. He drove like a fiend, narrowly escaping collision a score oftimes. He made his way along the roads running alongside the broadriver, and finally came opposite the city. He crossed over a bridge,drove through the streets with what speed he dared, left the car at apublic garage with certain instructions, and hurried to a telephone.

  He was unable to get either Sidney Prale or Murk, for at that hour theywere on their way to the Griffin residence. Farland telephoned to hiswife to say that he was all right, but would not be home until some timeduring the day. Then he engaged a taxicab and began his work.

  He knew where to start now. An idea had come to him in that old housefar up the river, a suspicion, a feeling of certainty that he was on theright track. Jim Farland was no respecter of persons that night.

  When morning came he stopped only for a cup of coffee, and then workedon. He dashed from one place to another, running up a taxicab bill thatmade the chauffeur smile. He interviewed important gentlemen,threatening some and cajoling others, but always getting the informationthat he desired.

  At two o'clock the following afternoon he stood on a certain corner nearMadison Square, his suspicion almost proved, his investigation at anend.

  "Now for the big bluff!" Jim Farland said to himself.

  He fortified himself with another cup of coffee, got into the taxicabagain, and started downtown. He was smoking one of his big, blackcigars, puffing at it as if in deep contentment, not looking at all likea man who had been kept a prisoner a night and a day, and had been busysince that experience.

  The taxicab stopped before an office building, as Jim Farland hadordered. The detective pulled out his last money and paid the chauffeur.

  "You're got more coming, son, but this is all I have with me," Farlandsaid. "Drop in at my office any time after ten to-morrow morning and getit."

  "Yes, Mr. Farland--and thanks!"

  "You're a good boy, but keep your mouth shut!" Farland told him.

  Then he hurried into the office building, went to the elevator nearestthe entrance, and ascended to the floor where George Lerton had hissuite of offices.

  The office boy stepped to the railing.

  "Mr. Lerton busy?" Farland asked.

  "He is alone in his private office, sir," said the boy, who regarded thedetective with admiration and awe. After Farland's other visit, theyouth had decided to be a detective when he grew up.

  "I am to go right in--important business," Farland said. "Never mindannouncing me."

  The willing boy opened the gate, and Farland hurried across to the doorof the private office. He paused there a moment and seemed to pullhimself together, as if making sure before entering the room ofquestions he wanted to ask and information he wanted to gather. Then hethrew the door open, stepped quickly inside, closed the door, and turnedthe key.

  Lerton was sitting at his desk with his back to the door. He made nomove until he heard the key turned. Then he whirled around in his deskchair.

  "I--Great Scott, Farland, how you startled me!" he exclaimed. "I thoughtit was my secretary."

  "Pardon me for butting in this way, but I am in a deuce of a hurry andtold the boy it was all right," Farland said.

  "You'll smash my office discipline doing things like this. But, sitdown, man! What is it now? Has that cousin of mine been acting up again,or are you going to pester me with a lot of fool questions about thingsI don't know anything about?"

  Farland had seated himself in the chair at the end of the desk, withinfour feet of George Lerton. He had tossed his hat to a table and twistedthe cigar into one corner of his mouth. Now he stared Lerton straight inthe eyes.

  "You look like a madman!" Lerton said. "Why on earth are you looking atme like that? You look as if you were ill----"

  The expression in Farland's face made him stop, and he appeared to be abit disconcerted.

  "Why did you kill Rufus Shepley?" Jim Farland demanded suddenly in avoice that seemed to sting.

  Lerton's face went white for an instant. His jaw dropped and his eyesbulged.

  "Are--are you insane?" he gasped. "What on earth do you mean by this?I'll call a clerk and----"

  "The door is locked," Farland said, taking the automatic from hispocket. "You raise your voice, touch a button or make any move that I donot like, and I'll plug you and say afterward that I had placed youunder arrest and had to shoot when you tried to escape. Answer myquestion, Lerton! You are at the end of your rope! Why did you killRufus Shepley and then try to hang the crime on your cousin, SidneyPrale?"

  "This is preposterous!" Lerton exclaimed.

  "Oh, I've got the goods on you, Lerton! I wouldn't be here talking likethis if I didn't! You're going to the electric chair!"

  Lerton laughed rather nervously. "I always thought that you were a gooddetective, Jim, but I am beginning to have doubts now," he said. "Whathas put such an idea into your head?"

  "Facts gathered and welded together," Farland told him. "Don't try tocarry out the bluff any longer, Lerton. And don't call me Jim. I neverallow murderers to get familiar with me!"

  "This has gone far enough!" the broker exclaimed. "I'll have to ask youto leave my office, sir!"

  "I expect to do that little thing before long, and you are going withme," Farland said.

  There was a knock at the door.

  CHAPTER XXVI

  THE TRUTH COMES OUT

  Farland did not take his eyes off George Lerton.

  "If you have touched a button and called some fool clerk, I'll manhandleyou!" he promised. "Kindly consider yourself a prisoner!"

  The knock was repeated, and Farland, still keeping his eyes on the manat the desk, backed to the door and turned the key. Then he took up aposition where he could continue watching George Lerton and keep an eyeon the door at the same time.

  "Come in!" he called.

  The door was hurled open. At the same instant, the office boy who hadopened it was thrust aside. Sidney Prale sprang into the private officeand stood glaring at his cousin. Behind him was Murk, and behind Murkwere Kate Gilbert and her maid.

  "Quite a gathering!" Farland said, grinning. "I'm glad that you arehere. Kindly close and lock the door, Murk, with that young officegentleman on the outside!"

  Murk obeyed. George Lerton sprang to his feet.

  "What is the meaning of this intrusion?" he demanded. "Has my officebeen turned into a rendezvous for maniacs?"

  "Sit down!" Sidney Prale cried. He had not taken his eyes off Lerton,had not even turned to speak to Jim Farland, had not even wondered howFarland had escaped and come here.

  Lerton dropped back into his chair, wetting his thin lips, his eyesfurtive now.

  "You miserable cur!" Sidney Prale went on, advancing toward his cousin."I should handle this affair myself. I should have you in Honduras, andfasten you to a tree and beat you until you are senseless."

  "These insults----"

  "Are deserved, you beast!" Prale cried. "So, when I went away ten yearsago, you sold out Mr. Griffin and put the blame for it on me, did you?You wrecked that good man's faith in me, turned influential men againstme, had me persecuted when I returned."

  Jim Farland gave a shout of delight. "That right, Sid?" he cried, "ThenI have the connecting link! So George Lerton has been causing you allthis trouble, has he? I understand a lot more now. Lerton killed RufusShepley, also!"

  "It's a lie! You are trying to save Prale by accusing me!" Lerton cried.

  "Why, we've got you, you weak fool!" said Farland. "I knew you in thatold farmhouse despite your mask. Your hands gave you away--I recognizedthem."<
br />
  "And he's the man who tried to bribe me!" Murk cried. "I can tell it byhis hands, too!"

  "You tried to smash Prale's alibi," Jim Farland continued. "You had himfollowed that night and you sent those notes to the barber and theclothing merchant, with money in them."

  "And you betrayed yourself when you began using violence," Prale put in."You were too vindictive. You showed that you had some good reason ofyour own for wanting to drive me away from New York quickly!"

  "Oh, we've got you!" Farland repeated. "You are as good as in theelectric chair now!"

  George Lerton looked as if he might have been in it. He was breathing ingasps, and his face was white. His eyes held an expression of terror.

  "I guess--you've got me!" he said. "But I'll never--go to the chair!"

  Farland stepped across to him. "Get it off your chest!" he suggested.

  "I--I'll talk about it--yes!" George Lerton said. "I--I sold outGriffin. I wanted money, and I hated Griffin because he had put SidneyPrale over me. Then Sid had his trouble with the girl and ran away. Ifixed things so it looked as if he had been the guilty one.

  "I pretended to hate Sid for what he was supposed to have done. Isuggested the scheme of vengeance, and worked to get the influential mentogether. Then he came back--with his million. I hated him all the morebecause of that. I was afraid that, if he remained in New York, he wouldfind out the truth and I'd be exposed. I knew what that would mean, andI was beginning to get rich.

  "So I had him followed and watched. I trailed him myself and met him onFifth Avenue, and tried to get him to go away, and afterward denied thatI had seen him at all, for he was accused of the murder of RufusShepley."

  "Which was your deed!" Farland put in. "Go ahead--tell it all. Let ussee whether you were clever or merely an amateur at crime."

  "Oh, I was clever enough!" Lerton boasted. "I--I killed Shepley becausehe was about to have me arrested for embezzlement. I had been handling avast sum for him, aside from his regular business. While he wastraveling, I speculated with the money--and lost. He knew it. I couldnot repay.

  "I had an engagement with him that night at the hotel. The detective Ihad working for me had reported that Sid had had a quarrel with Shepley,and where he had gone afterward and what he had done. There I saw mychance.

  "I did not have myself announced at Shepley's hotel. I knew where hissuite was, so I slipped up to it without anybody seeing me, and knockedat the door. He admitted me. I begged him to give me a little time torepay the money, but he would not. He called me a thief, and said that Imust go to prison, that he would not have a hand in letting me remain atliberty to rob other men.

  "There was a steel letter opener on the table. I--I stabbed him with it,and then I got away by the fire escape. Nobody saw me. I left him theredead. I was almost frantic when I reached home. Then I saw how I couldhave Sidney Prale accused and remove the menace of his presence also. Iwould be safe if Prale were convicted of the murder. I would not have torepay the Shepley money, and Prale never could reveal that I hadbetrayed Mr. Griffin and the others instead of him.

  "So I sent the notes and money to the barber and clothing merchant, andthey denied that Prale had visited them, thus smashing his alibi. Idenied that I had met him on the Avenue. I thought that I was safe. Butthe barber and merchant told Farland the truth, and the police began tothink that Sid was not guilty.

  "I grew almost frantic then. My one hope was in running Sid out of townas quickly as possible, and so I did everything I could think of tobring about that end."

  "How about that fountain pen found beside the body?" Farland asked.

  "When I was talking to Sid that night on the Avenue, his coat was openand I saw the pen. Something seemed to tell me to take it, that it mightbe used against him some time. As I clutched his lapel, begging him toleave town, I took the pen from his pocket."

  "Nothing but a plain dip, after all!" Farland sneered.

  "I dropped it beside the body after I had killed Shepley. It was a partof my plan. And--and I guess that is all!"

  "I guess it is!" Sidney Prale said. "Mr. Griffin and I, and some othermen, made a little investigation last night and continued it thismorning. We found that you were the traitor who caused that financialsmash ten years ago. It may please you to know that Mr. Griffin is myfriend again, and that others are being informed of my innocence. EvenCoadley has come to me and asked to take my case again. But I wasclearing myself of the charge of business treason, and nothing more. Idid not connect you with the murder of Shepley."

  "Well, I did connect him with it," Farland put in. "But when I sprung iton him here this afternoon, I was running a bluff. I had some evidence,but not enough to convict. You might have got away with it, Lerton, ifyou had had any nerve. But you happen to be a rank coward--and a guiltyman!"

  "You--you----" George Lerton gasped.

  He had been holding two fingers in a pocket of his waistcoat. Now hewithdrew them and, before Farland could reach him, he had swallowedsomething.

  "You'll never----" he began, and then his head fell forward to the desk."Get the ladies outside, Murk!" Farland commanded suddenly. "And tellthat secretary out there to send in a call for a physician and thepolice. Lerton was right--he'll never go to the electric chair!"

  * * * * *

  Ten minutes later, Sidney Prale and Murk were waiting for the elevatorwith Kate Gilbert and Marie, but each couple was standing at somedistance from the other.

  "I have proved my innocence, and now I ask you to remember your promiseand grant me your friendship," Prale was telling Kate Gilbert.

  "I shall remember," she said. "You have my address, haven't you? If youhaven't, ask Murk. He knows it. You sent him to spy on me, remember."

  "Jim Farland did that," Prale protested.

  Murk was talking to the gigantic Marie at that moment.

  "You're mighty nice!" he was saying. "Say, I'd like to see you somemore. I've got an idea my boss will be calling on your mistress, andwhen he does I might come up to the corner, and you might slip out andmeet me, and we might take a walk in the Park. You wouldn't want to stayin the apartment and bother them, would you?"

  "It would be a shame!" said Marie. "Which corner, Murk?"

  THE END