"Shrimp!" he spluttered, clutching the diminutive chap by the shoulders,"there's a fellow going up the avenue there--short, slim, dark clothesand brown felt hat. He's a detective, after Barry Lawrence. I've gotto know where he goes. For the love of Mike, follow him and tell mewhere he lands! I'll be at the club. Be quick, now, or you'll misshim!"
The single, searching glance Bradley cast at his friend's face convincedhim that this was no joke, and without a question he snapped back:"Right. I'm on." And he hustled off up the street.
Jock watched him anxiously as he scurried away, and presently, whenpursuer and pursued were lost to sight, the big chap sighed and turnedback in the direction from which he had come.
"He'll catch the dope if it's a possible thing," he muttered. "Hang itall! I wish Barry were here."
He was puzzled to learn, on reaching the club, that Lawrence had phonedduring his absence and left an urgent message that he was not to leavethe building until he heard again from the Harvard man. Of what itcould mean Hamersley had no idea, unless Barry had become wise to thesituation in some way and was also following up a clew.
At all events, there seemed nothing else for him to do but wait; and fornearly an hour he performed that difficult and trying duty in a mannerwhich nearly drove the other club members to murder.
Apparently unable to keep still, he tramped back and forth through therooms on the lower floor with a frowning countenance. He was deaf tothe gibes and jokes hurled after him, oblivious to remarks and questionsfrom his friends, heedless to everything save the matter which filledhis mind so exclusively. Had he not been so universally known and likedby almost all the members, there is no telling what might have happened.As it was, when Shrimp Bradley appeared about a quarter past eight, andJock made a rush for him which compared favorably with some of his bestefforts on the gridiron, there was a general sigh of thankfulness thatsomething had at length arisen to break the spell.
"Let me get my breath!" panted Shrimp. "I never hustled so before.Yes, I got him! Did you take me for a piker? Sure, I want a drink.I've got a thirst a mile long. I want something to eat, too, and tellhim to hustle. You and I have got our night's work cut out for us, oldsocks!"
While he was talking Jock had pushed him into the small room to the leftof the door, which happened at the moment to be unoccupied. Placing onebig thumb against the bell, he kept it there until the attendantappeared on the run and took their order.
"Now," exclaimed Hamersley, sinking into a chair, "where'd he go?Harlem?"
"Harlem? No. He went up three blocks and then hopped onto a stagegoing downtown. Luckily I was just about a block behind, so I sprintedand grabbed it. We rode down to Fourteenth, and then he got off. Istayed on half a block longer, then beat it. I was hustling back,keeping well in near the buildings, when I saw him coming down withanother guy, and I slipped into a doorway. As luck would have it, theystopped a couple of feet past me for the stranger to light a cigarette,and I heard about all they said. They talked in riddles, of course, butI made out pretty clearly that they've got a girl locked up somewhere,and that they caught her by telling her some fellow was in trouble. Imade out, too, that the girl put up something of a fight, but they toldher if she didn't keep quiet 'twould be worse for the fellow, and shebehaved after that. They said they'd have him by nine o'clock. Do yousuppose they meant Barry Lawrence?"
"Sure!" said Hamersley hoarsely. "But how did you make out all of that,Shrimp? They must have been boobs to talk so much in the open street."
"Oh, they weren't so slow," protested Bradley; "but neither am I, Jock.I kept my ears open and read between the lines. What they said couldn'thave meant much of anything else."
"Well, go on!" cried Jock impatiently.
"That's all I heard," said Bradley. "They were moving off by that timeand the wind was blowing the other way. I let 'em get 'most to the nextcorner before I slipped out after them. They went down the avenue as faras Eleventh, and then turned west, with me following as close as Idared. I reckon they weren't thinking about any one being after 'em,though, because they never once looked back. They went down the streetalmost to the next corner, then walked up the steps of a brownstonefront, opened the door with a latchkey, and stepped in. In a couple ofminutes I pranced past to get the number, noticed the sign, 'Rooms toLet,' boarded a Sixth Avenue car, grabbed a taxi at Twenty-third Street,and hustled back."
Hamersley nodded, but remained silent.
"What's biting you, Jock?" inquired Bradley sharply. "Aren't you wiseto what I'm telling you? Don't you catch on that there's a girl introuble?"
"Sure!" gasped Hamersley. "But what girl?"
"What girl!" snapped Shrimp. "How do I know, when you didn't tell meanything? Don't you know?"
Jock shook his head dazedly. "First I've heard of any girl," hereturned weakly. "I thought it was----"
"What girl are you talking about?" demanded a voice from the doorway, ina tone which made both men jump.
"Barry!" roared Hamersley, leaping at him. "For Pete's sake, come andput us wise! I put Shrimp on the trail of a man who was asking me allabout you, and he comes back with a weird tale of a girl kidnaped by abunch and kept a prisoner in a boarding house down on West EleventhStreet, near Sixth----"
"West Eleventh!" exclaimed Lawrence triumphantly. "By Jove! You've hitit right. Come on--both of you. There isn't a minute to lose. I'lltell you the rest in the taxi."
He turned and hurried out of the room, followed by Hamersley, and, moreslowly, by Shrimp Bradley, who had paused to secure the remainingsandwiches. Issuing hastily from the club, Barry told the driver totake them to the corner of Sixth Avenue and Eleventh Street, and theyall piled in and slammed the door behind them.
During the hurried ride downtown they exchanged stories briefly, so thatwhen they reached their destination they were ready to act. In half aminute Bradley had led the way to the house, and Lawrence swiftly tookin its salient features. It was an ordinary-looking, four-storiedbrownstone dwelling, a little gone to seed, perhaps, which accounted forthe sign displayed in a lower window. The room on the second floorfront was brightly lighted, but the shades were pulled down. All theother windows were dark. In that instant Barry had made up his mind.
"I'm going in if I can get in, fellows," he said abruptly.
"Hadn't you better wait----" began Bradley.
But Lawrence cut him short. "Not if I know it!" he exclaimed. "I'vewaited too long already. I'm going in! See if you can find a cop,Shrimp. Jock, will you watch the house?"
Before the others could realize what was happening, he had raced up thesteps and grasped the doorknob firmly. To the intense surprise of histwo companions, the door yielded to his touch, and a second later he haddisappeared, leaving them staring dazedly at each other.
"There's something queer about this!" Hamersley burst out the nextinstant. "I don't like the looks of it a little bit."
Bounding up the steps, he seized the knob and twisted it, flinging hiswhole weight against the door. It held fast. He tried again with thesame result, then turned a serious face toward Bradley.
"Beat it, Shrimp!" he said hurriedly. "Get a cop, quick! It's a trap,that's what it is!"
*CHAPTER XLI.*
*AT CROSS-PURPOSES.*
As the door swung into place behind him, with the unmistakable click ofa spring lock, Lawrence stood there, every nerve tense, glancing swiftlyaround into the shadows, half expecting an attack of some sort.
The hall was lighted by a single gas jet turned down to the tiniestspark, and for a moment he thought himself alone. Then, with asuppressed start, he realized that a tall, slim, smooth-shaven man stoodsilently by the portieres of a double door, watching him with cool,level, dark eyes.
"Well?" snapped Barry, recovering his composure. "Where is she? Quick!What have you done with her?"
The stranger smiled. "One flight up, on your right," he drawlednonchalantly.
"You can't miss it. The door's unlocked."
For a second Lawrence stared at him dazedly. With every nerve keyed toits highest tension, expecting, and ready to use force, and with visionsof having to break down doors and overcome all sorts of obstacles toreach the girl he was seeking, the utter indifference and casualpoliteness were staggering. He scowled fiercely at the urbane strangerfor an instant, the color rising to his face; then, whirling about,raced up the stairs without a word.
The upper hall was almost pitch dark, but he thrust out both hands andfelt the panels of a door on his right. A second later his fingersclosed over a knob, he pushed forward, then stopped still on thethreshold, blinking in the bright light, with the echoes of a faint,suppressed cry of a woman ringing in his ears.
The room was long and spacious, that effect being heightened by severalfull-length mirrors, with massive, old-fashioned frames of black walnut,set into the walls at different points. The furniture was mostly ofthat same mid-Victorian period, ponderous, ugly, and uncomfortable, witha good deal of fringe and furbelows and gimcrack ornament. It was onlyin contrast to the hall that the place seemed brightly lighted. Inreality, the only source of illumination was a nickel lamp with adark-green china shade, which stood on a marble table at the fartherend.
Most of this Barry perceived in that curious, instinctive, intuitivemanner with which one observes a thing without really looking at it.His whole mind was taken up with the girl who had started from her chairand was staring at him, a half-frightened, half-puzzled, whollyincomprehensible expression on her lovely face.
"Shirley!" he cried, springing forward impulsively. "You're all right?They haven't--hurt you in any way?"
To his amazement, she did not show the slightest sign of being glad tosee him. On the contrary, she seemed almost frightened; and the quickbackward step she took to place the table between them, no less than thelook in her dark eyes, halted Lawrence in his tracks as effectually as abullet might have done.
For a second he stood there staring at her, the color swiftly ebbingfrom his face.
"I don't--understand," he said at length, in a low, bewildered tone."What is the matter? It isn't possible that you're--afraid of me?"
She moistened her lips and, putting out one hand, let the tips of hergloved fingers rest lightly on the table top. From the moment of hisentrance her eyes had never left Barry's face, and now, as he saw themclearly in the lamplight, the look there was like the stab of a knife.
"I don't know," she said quietly; and Lawrence saw that it was thecalmness of deliberate effort. "I don't think it's quite--that."
"But what is the matter? What has happened?" He flung out both handsin an eloquent gesture. "Why are you acting so strangely?" After allhe had been through, after the strain and stress and mental suffering hehad been laboring under, this frigid reception, so different from theone he had imagined when he dared to picture their meeting at all, wasalmost unnerving. "You must tell me what it means!" he cried.
Her lips quivered, but she caught them between her teeth and tilted herchin a little more. She still wore her hat--a wide one of black velvet,with curving brim and soft black plumes. Her sable coat was flung overthe back of a nearby chair; and as she faced him--slim, erect,palpitating with life and charm and fascination, Lawrence realized thatshe had never seemed so beautiful--or so utterly beyond his reach.
"I think," she returned steadily, "that you are the one to tell methat."
The man turned suddenly white and drew his breath sharply. In a secondevery feature seemed to have become tense and hard and clean-cut as iffashioned from marble. When he spoke his voice was low and clear, butthere was a faint, throbbing undercurrent which showed plainly howdifficult it was for him to keep it so.
"It isn't possible that you believe me responsible for this?" he said.
For an instant the girl did not answer. Her lips were quiveringunmistakably now; her self-control was plainly strained almost to thebreaking point.
"How do I know what to believe?" she cried suddenly. "How do I knowwhom to trust?" A sob arose in her throat, and she fumbled in hersleeve for a tiny handkerchief. "Oh, why did you try to keep it fromme?" she went on despairingly. "Why didn't you tell me at first, andthen we should never have----"
She could not finish, and the swift glimpse Barry had of those darkeyes, swimming with tears, before she hid them with her handkerchief,almost drove him mad.
"Tell you what?" he demanded dazedly. "For Heaven's sake what is it youthink I've kept from you? Surely you don't mean that trouble at thebank? You must have known that I never----"
She silenced him with a gesture and dropped both hands straight by hersides. There was a glint of tears still in her dark eyes, but she hadrecovered her composure with remarkable rapidity.
"It isn't that," she said wearily. "It's far more important than anybank. I know--everything. You understand? And it--hurts desperately tothink that I had to hear from---a stranger--that you----"
She stopped abruptly as a brisk knock sounded at the door. Beforeeither of them could speak it swung open, and two men entered quietly,closing it behind them.
*CHAPTER XLII.*
*THE MAN IN THE MIRROR.*
The foremost of the intruders was the dapper detective, Brennen, and, ashe recognized him, Barry scowled.
"So it's you, is it?" he said shortly.
The fellow grinned. "It sure is!" he chuckled. "Mighty nice of you totrot down here and save me the trouble of hunting you up."
Lawrence stared at him blankly. "What the mischief do you mean?" hedemanded. "You don't mean to say you wanted me here?"
Brennen nodded blithely. "Of course. Aren't you on yet? That's whatwe've been after right along. That's why we had to put the lady here toa little inconvenience. Hated to do it, of course, but were afraidyou----"
His companion, the tall, dark, urbane person Barry had passed in thehall below, plucked Brennen by the arm and whispered a few words in hisear.
"What's the odds?" the detective returned briskly. "The big fellow'sdue any minute, and then it'll all come out. You see," he went on,turning again to Lawrence, "it looked to us like you'd get wise andmight make a sneak any minute. We couldn't allow that, of course, so wetook the only way which was left us, and, by a polite little fiction,induced your wife----"
"That'll do!" cried Barry, his eyes flashing. "I don't understand a wordyou're saying; but I know this much: if you can't keep this lady out ofthe conversation, I'll take great pleasure in silencing you. She is notmy wife, and your behavior in dragging her into this affair has beensimply despicable."
The detective shrugged his shoulders incredulously. "Suit yourself," hereturned blandly. He hesitated a moment, and then went on, withtwinkling eyes: "Hope your friend don't get tired hunting a cop."
Barry gasped, but recovered himself swiftly. "What do you know about myfriends?" he demanded.
"Know!" Brennen repeated amusedly. "Say, that's good! Do I look like aboob? You don't suppose for a minute, do you, that I wasn't wise tothat little pewee who trailed me down here from Forty-fourth Street?Ha, ha! Why, I wanted him to follow me, and made things so easy that hecouldn't fall down. What's more, I turned about and went after him theminute he started back. Followed him to the club, and got after thethree of you when you came this way again. I couldn't take any chances,you see, with his nibs due to-night and expecting to see you here."
If Lawrence had never felt chagrin before, he felt it now. Therealization that they all simply had been playing into this fellow'shands was maddening, and it was with the utmost difficulty that herefrained from showing his feelings. To gain time, he slipped out ofhis overcoat, which had been decidedly too warm, and flung it over achair. Then he turned back to the irritating detective.
"Since you're so clever," he remarked sarcastically, "I suppose youhaven't lost sight of the fact that there's a station house within fiveminutes' walk, and that when I ca
me in here my friend was headedstraight in that direction."
Brennen laughed. "Bless you, no!" he exclaimed jovially. "That was oneof the first things I took care of, and, short as the distance is, Ishouldn't be at all surprised if he got sidetracked, somehow, on theway."
He paused a moment, his keen eyes fixed intently on Barry's face. "Is'pose you've sized me up from the muss I made of things the othernight," he went on; "and I can't say I blame you much. That was one ofthe worst fall-downs I ever had; and the trouble was my hands were tied.Instead of putting the matter up to me and letting me work it my ownway, they had to go and plan it all out, and then tell me to do thus andso, as if I was one of these cheap guys with solid-ivory domes. Why,hang it all! I didn't even know what you were then. I took you forsome cheap sport who'd got into trouble on the other side and slippedover here to get away from it. If I'd had the least idea what was what,you can bet your last cent you wouldn't have made that get-away as easyas you did."
As he listened to the fellow's incomprehensible words, Lawrence felt asif his brain were whirling round and round. And then, like a flash, hisself-control snapped.
"Who the mischief do you take me for?" he burst out frantically. "Tellme that! Tell me his name! Tell me what I'm supposed to have done.Out with it now, unless you're afraid."
The Riddle and the Ring; or, Won by Nerve Page 16
