Jock arrived about ten minutes late, and thumped down beside Lawrencewith a force which shook the seat, and made the broker start nervously.
"Hope you've got something to talk about that'll pay for the way I toreover here," he grunted. "Never worked so hard in my life as I did thisafternoon."
"You don't know what work is, you old bluffer," Barry laughed, as hetapped the bell. "What'll you take?"
Hamersley gave his order, and by the time it arrived Lawrence hadbroached the subject of the theater party.
"Suits me fine," the big chap returned. "Better get seats for 'The BlueMoon,' if you can. First night, you know, and that's always more fun."
"I'll phone for seats as soon as I get back to the hotel," Barry agreed."Suppose I ask Reggie Minturn and that chap he had with him? That makesa good number."
"Good!", chuckled Hamersley. "Reckon Reg has sobered up by now. He waspie-eyed last night, though. See him?"
Barry nodded with twinkling eyes. He was wondering what Reggie'sthoughts had been on discovering the five-hundred-dollar bill in hiswaistcoat pocket.
"Yes, I ran across them," he returned. "They'd had about all they couldhold, sure enough. Well, I'll try and rope them in. I'll have a carmeet me at the Waldorf at a quarter to eight. That'll give me time topick you fellows up. Show doesn't begin till eight-fifteen, I suppose?"
"Nearer eight-thirty," Jock corrected, setting down his empty glass, andtapping the bell.
Lawrence declined further refreshment, however, and they presently aroseand made for the door.
It would have been rather interesting for Barry to observe the behaviorof the nervous broker after their departure. Their backs were no soonerturned than the financial page seemed to lose all interest for him. Heleaned forward a bit, and peered after their retreating figures. Then,as they passed through the turnstile door, he sprang to his feet andhastened after them into the street.
*CHAPTER XXII.*
*THE TOUCH Of COLD STEEL.*
The two friends made their way briskly up Madison Avenue to Forty-fifthStreet, and thence turned to the left toward Fifth Avenue. At theentrance to the St. Albans they paused a minute, while Jock finished thediverting story he had commenced.
"Good, ain't it?" he chuckled. "Jimmie Toler has the greatest raft of'em you ever heard. Well, see you around eight or after, I s'pose.S'long." He took a few long strides, and then wheeled around. "Say,you missed the time of your life cutting away early last night, Barry,"he called back. "Greatest little queen you ever saw. Miss Rives washer name--Shirley Rives, from Virginia."
Lawrence caught his breath swiftly, and took a single, impulsive steptoward his friend. But Hamersley had already resumed his chuckling way,and, with a sigh, Barry went into the hotel and up to his rooms.
"So that was really her name," he murmured, in a puzzled way, as he wasdressing a little later. "I'll be hanged if I can understand it. Thewhole business is one too many for me."
The problem occupied his mind throughout his entire toilet; andafterward, as he bowled down to the Waldorf, he quite forgot to keep hiseyes open for the persistent followers. So he failed to notice that thetrailing taxi was conspicuous by its absence.
As he ate his oysters, the wonderful, deep eyes of the Southern girllooked at him in spirit from across the table. It seemed impossiblethat such eyes could be false, yet what else was there for him tobelieve? Again he saw, as clearly as if he had been gazing on it in theflesh, that bewitching mouth, with the tragic, little droop at thecorners of the sensitive lips. How could such lips have voiced thethings they had to him, if each word they uttered was a lie?
He could not believe it. Suddenly there came to him a conviction thathe had been a fool to act as he had last night. There must be somethingabout it all which he could not understand; some mystery which could beexplained in a simple, logical way, if only he had the key. And, as heremembered the things he had thought of her, he became ashamed. A floodof crimson surged into his pleasant face at the realization of what acad he had been. No one had known, to be sure. Happily he had voicedhis feelings to no single soul, but he was a cad, nevertheless, unworthyof her friendship. From this moment things would be very different. Hewould have faith in her, no matter what happened, or how muchappearances were against her. When he saw her again----
His heart suddenly sank within him. That was the question. Was he evergoing to see her again? Would he ever be given a chance to show what hefelt for her? Perhaps his new-found faith had come too late.
In this unenviable state of mind he finished his dinner, and left thetable.
It was barely half past seven when he reached the corridor, and herealized, with some slight impatience that he had a wait of nearlyfifteen minutes before the limousine he had ordered from the garagewould put in an appearance.
Taking out his case, he extracted a thick Egyptian cigarette, andlighted it. As he tossed the match aside, and took a first deep whiffof smoke, he had the curious, instinctive feeling that some one waslooking at him.
Slowly, leisurely, without any appearance of premeditation, he turned,as if to stroll down the corridor, and found that his intuition had notbeen at fault.
Standing perhaps twenty feet away, in an attitude which indicated he hadbeen merely passing toward the elevator when something arrested hisattention, was a tall, rather elderly man in faultless evening dress.He wore a top hat, and carried a heavy, fur-lined coat over one arm.
But Barry barely noticed those details. He was occupied with thehandsome, distinguished face, smooth shaven, and with a subtle touch ofintellectual power in the brilliant dark eyes. Those eyes were fixedupon the Harvard man with an expression at once so surprised and puzzledthat, in a flash, Lawrence was reminded of the look on Mrs. WinslowCourtney's high-bred face the day before.
And then--the parallel was amazingly like--a quick, genial smile flashedinto the stranger's face; he bowed pleasantly, hesitated a second, as iftempted to cross the intervening space to Barry's side, then resumed hisprogress across the corridor and disappeared.
"Well, I'll be hanged!" Lawrence muttered, in a tone of whimsicalannoyance. Though taken by surprise, he had returned the older man'ssalutation promptly. "Reckon I must have a double floating around town,or else people like my looks a lot more than they used to."
After a moment's hesitation, he crossed to the desk, and, giving a briefdescription of the elderly gentleman, asked one of the clerks who hewas.
"I think you must mean Mr. Grafton Fahnstock," the latter returnedpromptly. "He passed through the lobby a moment ago."
Barry thanked him, and walked away, puffing meditatively on hiscigarette. Presently he smiled, and shrugged his shoulders. GraftonFahnstock was the famous cabinet minister, who had just returned from adiplomatic conference at the Hague.
"Coming up in the world, my boy," he chuckled, as he strolled toward thedoor. "First Mrs. Winslow Courtney, now Fahnstock. Next thing you knowyou'll be chumming with his excellency at Wash----"
"Your car is here, Mr. Lawrence."
It was the carriage man who spoke, and with a start Barry realized thathe must have spent more time than he supposed dawdling about the lobby.
Hurriedly slipping into his coat, which he had been carrying on his arm,he walked rapidly out across the sidewalk to where a handsome limousinestood by the curb.
"Mr. Jacob Hamersley's house on Fifth Avenue," he told the chauffeur.
"Yes, sir." The man saluted, without turning his head.
Lawrence leaped in, the porter slammed the door, and the car started offwith a jerk.
The next instant Barry realized that he was not alone. A shadow in thefarther corner of the wide seat had suddenly come to life.
But before the surprised Harvard man could so much as lift a finger, thecold barrel of an automatic revolver was pressed firmly against histemple, and a cool, steely voice said in his ear:
"Just sit tight, and d
on't let a yip out of you, my friend, if you wantto keep your brains where they belong!"
*CHAPTER XXIII.*
*BY FORCE OF ARMS.*
For a moment Lawrence sat rigid, stunned with surprise at the unexpectedaudacity of the thing. Then, as the car swung around the corner ofFifth Avenue, a bright glare of light streamed in through the frontwindow, full upon the face of the individual beside him. To Barry'sintense astonishment, and not a little to his chagrin, he recognized thesupposed broker who had occupied the next compartment that afternoon inthe Belmont cafe.
"So it's you!" he exclaimed aloud.
The man reached forward with his left hand, and jerked down the frontcurtain, plunging the interior of the limousine into almost utterdarkness.
"It sure is," he returned coolly, but with an undercurrent ofsatisfaction in his voice.
The hand which held the automatic against Barry's head did not relax.Lawrence had an odd impression that, even through the length ofimmovable steel, he could feel the fellow's muscles tensed, and hiswhole being alert for the slightest stirring on the part of hisprisoner. He did not really believe that the man would actually pullthe trigger, no matter what happened, but under such circumstances onedoes not feel anxious to put beliefs like that to a test.
As the car whirled southward without a single pause or even slowingdown--at that hour traffic regulations were very much relaxed--Lawrencestrove desperately to bring some order to the chaos of his mind.
Who was the audacious unknown, and what could possibly be his purpose inacting in this high-handed manner? He recalled vividly the strangeattack which had been made on him several nights before. Was this anatural sequence of that assault, and of the persistent shadowing whichhad been going on ever since? Was this fellow hand in glove with thebearded man and his gawky, foreign-looking confederate? Or was heacting in behalf of Tappin and the bank officials? Where was he himselfbeing taken, and for what object?
The car jolted over cross tracks twice, with a very brief intervalbetween, and Barry knew it was the Twenty-ninth and Twenty-eighth Streetsurface lines. In a few seconds they would reach Twenty-third, where aslowing down at least would be imperative. There were always policemenabout that corner. Should he plunge forward at the right moment, smashthe glass of the door near him, and risk a shot from the revolver, orshould he quietly let things take their course, in the hope of findingout something which would help to clear the mystery?
He finally decided on the latter course, at least until he could havetime to sound his captor, and, relaxing in his corner, he promptlyproceeded to that end.
"I suppose you know what you're doing?" he remarked suddenly.
"I generally do," the unknown drawled.
"Really?" murmured Lawrence. "Then you must realize that you're runninga considerable risk, taking the law into your own hands this way."
The other chuckled. "Law!" he exclaimed. "You're a great one to talkabout the law, when you're----"
He broke off abruptly, much to Barry's disappointment, and the latterretorted swiftly:
"Nabbed, am I? Will you be good enough to tell me what crime I amcharged with?"
"Ha! ha! That's good. As if you didn't know without any telling!You'll find out soon enough, my friend."
"You think so?" Barry retorted sharply. "I hope you're taking me to astation house or before a magistrate, where this matter can bestraightened out at once."
"You want----" the man began incredulously, then paused.
"Of course that's what I want," Lawrence put in swiftly. "What's more,I demand it. I've done nothing to be ashamed of--nothing I'm afraid ofhaving the whole world know. Just take me before a magistrate, and seehow long your flimsy charges, whatever they may be, will hold me."
There was an instant's pause, then the man laughed. "Ha! ha! Soundsgood, but you can't fool me that way. I've heard that line of talkbefore, many a time."
Superficially his tone was confidence itself, but Barry's alert sensescaught a faint note of hesitancy in his voice which was at once puzzlingand encouraging.
"Very likely," the Harvard chap retorted. "Perhaps you've also observedthe consequences of holding up an innocent man at the point of a gun,and carrying him off against his will. I recall one instance where thejudge was hard-hearted enough to define it as kidnaping. Theperpetrator was sent up for six years, as I remember."
This time the stranger's laugh was decidedly forced.
"You're wasting your breath," he said, with some curtness. "You may beslick enough to put it over that foreign bunch across the pond, but, weain't so easy over here."
Lawrence started ever so slightly, and drew a quick, noiseless breath.He had not the most remote idea what the man was talking about, but thefact was instantly apparent that it had nothing whatever to do withTappin and the Beekman Trust Company.
In spite of his bewilderment at this discovery, Barry was decidedlyrelieved. He was not at all anxious for a revival of the old affairbefore he had taken the steps he planned in regard to Julian Farr'sexposure. He was absolutely innocent, of course, and felt that it wouldbe impossible for them to prove anything against him. Still, the bankpeople might make things annoying, and perhaps ruin the plans he hadmade about the cashier.
The car bumped over the Twenty-third Street tracks, and went speeding ondown Fifth Avenue. After a time another slight jolt told Lawrence thatFourteenth Street had been reached and put behind, but still the coursewas held straight southward.
Barry tried to sound his captor a little more, but the latter had growntaciturn, and shut him up without revealing another scrap ofinformation.
Eighth Street was crossed, and, a moment or two later, the car swervedsharply to the right.
"Washington Square," Barry thought, with every sense alert. "Now, wherethe mischief are they taking me?"
The twists and turns which followed were so bewildering that Barry soonceased trying to keep track of his whereabouts. The car sped on,whirling around corners, taking long, straight stretches with a rush,and darting back and forth, up and down, in such a manner that Lawrencefinally lost even his sense of direction.
Evidently the detective--Barry was sure by this time of his captor'soccupation--was headed for some rendezvous where possibly he would meetthe persons who had employed him in this lawless undertaking. Betweenleaving the car and entering the building, wherever that might be, therewould surely be some slight chance of breaking away, and Lawrencedetermined to be ready to take advantage of it the instant the carstopped.
Thus it was that, when the automobile began to slow down and swerve intoward the curb, Barry held himself tense, with feet braced in such amanner that he was ready to launch himself straight at his companion inthe twinkling of an eye, snatch the automatic, and fling himself fromthe car to freedom.
"No monkeyshines, now!" admonished the unknown suddenly, as if readingLawrence's very thoughts. "You try to make a get-away, and you'll wishyou hadn't."
"Why should I?" Barry returned, with light indifference. "I'm tooanxious to see you get yours, to leave just now."
The only answer was an inarticulate grunt. The car skidded a little,then stopped with a jerk. Lawrence was waiting breathlessly for thepressure of the revolver to be removed, when suddenly his heart sankinto his boots.
From the sidewalk came the low murmur of voices, followed almostinstantly by the jerking open of the door. In a single swift glance hetook in the shadowy forms of three men grouped around the car--four, ifhe counted the chauffeur, who was slipping out of his seat to join them.
It would be folly to try to break away against such odds as this. Hewould do better to submit without resistance and bide his time.
*CHAPTER XXIV.*
*THE EMPTY HOUSE.*
The instant Lawrence stepped out of the car he was surrounded by thefour men, and hurried across the icy sidewalk. There was a briefglimpse of a r
ow of squalid-looking buildings, unfamiliar in theirmonotonous regularity, then he was pushed into the shadowy doorway,through the door, which yielded to a touch, and thence to the pitchyblackness of a hall where the echo of their footsteps sounded hollow andringing, as in an empty house.
A brief pause followed, broken only by low whispering. Then the doorclosed, and, as the purring of the motor car died away in the distance,a round, brilliant spot of light suddenly flashed out of the darkness,showing Barry the uncarpeted stairs near which he stood, the dingyrailing, and, more dimly, the figures of the men grouped about him.
"Ed, you and Jim stay down here," the detective ordered tersely. "Beatit upstairs, Billy, and light the lamp. Now, Mr. Lawrence," he went on,with a sort of mocking politeness, after his man had disappeared intothe darkness above, "I'll have to ask you to follow. Your room is allready for you."
With a slight shrug of indifference, Barry obeyed. From his manner onewould have supposed him quite resigned to the unpleasantness of thesituation. He seemed to look neither to the right nor left, but, as hereached the second floor, with the detective close behind, he shot aswift, comprehensive glance around, without turning his head.
In that brief instant, aided by the feeble yellow light streaming out ofthe back room, he saw that there were but three doors opening on thenarrow hall. One led into the lighted room; another, close beside it,and also standing partly open, seemed to give access to a small backbedroom or bathroom, while the third was at the other end of the hall,close to the shadowy outlines of the stairs leading up to the thirdfloor.
The Riddle and the Ring; or, Won by Nerve Page 9
