The Man Who Fell Through the Earth

by Carolyn Wells

  CHAPTER XII The Link

  It was the next afternoon that Penny Wise came into my office. It was hisfirst visit there, and I gave him a hearty welcome. Norah looked soeagerly expectant that I introduced him to her, for I couldn't bear todisappoint the girl by ignoring her.

  Wise was delightfully cordial toward her, and indeed Norah's winsomepersonality always made people friendly.

  I had tried to get in touch with the detective the day before but he wasout on various errands, and I missed him here and there, nor could we gettogether until he found this leisure.

  I told him all I had learned from the police, but part of it was alreadyknown to him. He was greatly interested in the news which he had notheard before, that there was somebody implicated, who was called "TheLink."

  "That's the one we want!" he cried; "I suspected some such person."

  "Man or woman?" asked Norah, briefly, and Wise glanced at her.

  "Which do you think?"

  "Woman," she replied, and Penny Wise nodded his head. "Yes, I've no doubt'The Link' is a woman, and a mighty important factor in the case."

  "But I don't understand," I put in. "What does she link?"

  "Whom,--not what," said Wise, and he looked very serious. "Of course, youmust realize, Brice, there's a great big motive behind this Gatelymurder, and there's also a big reason for Amory Manning's disappearance.The two are connected,--there's no doubt of that,--but that doesn't argueManning the murderer, of course. No, this Link is a woman of parts,--awoman who is of highest value to the principals in this crime, and whomust be found, and that at once!"

  "Did she have to do with Mr. Gately?" asked Norah, her gray eyes burningwith interest.

  "I--don't--know." Wise's hesitating answer was by no means because ofdisinclination to admit his ignorance, but because he was thinking deeplyhimself. "Look here, Brice, can't we go over Gately's rooms now? I don'twant to ask permission of the police, but if the Trust Company peoplewould let us in----"

  "Of course," I responded, and I went at once to the vice-president forthe desired permission.

  "It's all right," I announced, returning with the keys, "come ahead."

  We went into the beautiful rooms of the late bank president.

  Pennington Wise was impressed with their rich and harmonious effects, andhis quick eyes darted here and there, taking in details. With marvelousswiftness he went through the three rooms of the suite nodding his headas he noted the special points of which he had been told. In the thirdroom,--the Blue Room,--he glanced about, raised the map from the wall,and dropped it back in place, opened the door to the hall, and closed itagain, and then turned back to the middle room, the office of AmosGately, and apparently, to the detective's mind, the principal place ofinterest.

  He sat down in the fine big swivel-chair, whose velvet cushioningdeprived it of all look of an ordinary desk-chair, and mused deeply ashis eyes fairly devoured the desk fittings. Nothing had been disturbed,that I noticed, except that the telephone had been set up in its rightposition, and also the chair which I had found overturned was righted.

  Wise fingered only a few things. He picked up the penholder, a thickmagnificent affair made of gold.

  "Probably a gift from his clerks," said I, smiling at the ornate andostentatious looking thing. "All the other gimcracks are in bettertaste."

  Pennington Wise opened the desk drawers. There was little to see, for allfinancial papers had been taken away by Mr. Gately's executors.

  "Here's a queer bunch," Wise observed, as he picked up a packet of papersheld together by a rubber band. He sorted them out on the desk.

  They were sheets of paper of various styles, each bearing the address orescutcheon of some big city hotel. Many of the principal hostelries ofNew York were represented among them. Each sheet bore a date stamped onit with an ordinary rubber dating-stamp.

  "Important, if true," commented Wise.

  "If what's true?" asked Norah, bluntly.

  "My deductions," he returned. "These letters, if we can call themletters, doubtless were sent to Mr. Gately at separate times and inseparate envelopes."

  "They were," I informed him. "One came the morning after his death."

  "It did! Which one?"

  "It isn't here. All the new mail went to his lawyer."

  "We must get hold of it!"

  "But,--do tell me what's the import of a blank sheet of paper?"

  "These aren't blank," and he pointed to the stamped dates. "They are veryfar from blank!"

  "Only a date,--on a plain sheet of paper,--what does that mean?"

  "Perhaps nothing--perhaps everything."

  It wasn't like Penny Wise to be cryptic, and I gathered that the paperswere really of value as evidence. "Has the writing been erased?" Ihazarded.

  "Probably not. No. I don't think so." He scrutinized more closely.

  "No," he concluded, "nothing like that. The message is all told on thesurface, and he who runs may read."

  "Read, 'The Waldorf-Astoria, December 7.'" I scoffed. "And is the readergreatly enlightened?"

  "Not yet, but soon," Wise murmured, as he kept up his investigation."Ha!" he went on, "as the actor hath it,--what have we here!"

  He was now scrutinizing the ends of two burnt cigarettes, left on theash-tray of the smoking-set.

  "The lady has left her initials! How kind of her!"

  "Why, Hudson studied those and couldn't make out any letters," Iexclaimed.

  "Blind Hudson! These very dainty and expensive cigarettes belonged to afair one, whose name began with K and S,--or S and K. Be careful how youtouch it, but surely you can see that the tops of the letters thoughscorched, show definitely enough to know they must be K and S."

  "They are!" cried Norah; "I can see it now."

  "Couldn't that S be an O?" I caviled.

  "Nope," and Wise shook his head. "The two, though both nearly burnt away,show for sure that the letters are K and S. Here's a find! Does MissRaynor smoke?"

  "I don't think so," I replied. "I've never seen her do so,--and shedoesn't seem that type. And then,--the initials----"

  "Oh, well, she might have had some of her friends' cigarettes with her. Iwas only thinking it must have been a pretty intimate caller who wouldsit here and smoke with Mr. Gately--here are his own cigar stubs you seeand of course, Miss Raynor came into my mind. Eliminating her we have,maybe, the lady of the hatpin."

  "And the powder-paper!" cried Norah.

  "Yes, they all seem to point to a very friendly caller, who smoked, whotook off her hat, and who powdered her nose, all in this room, and all onthe day Mr. Gately was killed. For, of course, the whole place wascleaned and put in order every day."

  "And there was the carriage check," I mused; "perhaps she left that."

  "Carriage check?" asked Wise.

  "Yes, a card like a piece of Swiss cheese,--you know those perforatedcarriage-call checks?"

  "I do. Where is it?"

  "Hudson took it. But he won't get anything out of it, and you might."

  "Perhaps. I must see it, anyway. Also, I want to see Jenny,--the youngstenographer who was----"

  "Shall I get her here?" offered Norah.

  "Yes," Wise began, but I cut him short.

  "I've got to go home," I said. "I promised Rivers I'd see him thisafternoon, and take him on some errands. Suppose I go now, and you gowith me, Mr. Wise, and suppose Norah gets Jenny and brings her round tomy rooms. We can have the interview there; Rivers may not come tilllater, but I must be there to receive him."

  So Penny Wise and I went down to my pleasant vine and figtree, and as wewent, I told him about Case Rivers.

  He was interested at once, as he always was in anything mysterious, andhe said, "I'm glad to see him. What a strange case! Can he be the missingManning?"

  "Not a chance," I replied. "The two men are totally dissimilar in looksand in build. Manning is heavy,--almost stocky. Rivers is gaunt and lean.Also, Manning is dark-ha
ired and full-blooded, while Rivers is pale andhas very light hair. I tried to make out a resemblance, but it can't bedone. However, Case Rivers is interesting on his own account;" and I toldhim the story of his journey through the earth.

  He laughed. "Hallucination, of course," he said; "but it might easilylead to the discovery of his identity. That amnesic-aphasia businessalways fascinates me. That is, if I'm convinced it's the real thing. For,you know, it's a fine opportunity to fake loss of memory."

  "There's no fake in this case, I'm positive," I hastened to assure him;"I've taken a decided liking to Rivers, and I mean to keep in touch withhim, for when he regains his memory I want to know about it."

  "Pulled out of the river, you say?"

  "Yes, a tugboat picked him up, drowned and frozen, it was supposed. Hewas taken to the morgue, and bless you, if he didn't show signs of lifewhen he thawed out a little. So they went to work on him and revived himand sent him over to Bellevue where he became a celebrated case."

  "I should think so. No clothes or any identification?"

  "Not a rag. Or rather only a few rags of underwear,--but nothing that wasthe slightest clew."

  "What became of his clothes?"

  "Nobody knows. He was found drifting, unconscious, apparently dead, andentirely nude save the fragments of underclothing."

  "Those fragments have been kept?"

  "Oh, yes; but they mean nothing. Just ordinary material,--good,--butnothing individual about them."

  "Where was he picked up?"

  "I don't know exactly, but not far from the morgue, I believe. It was thesame day as the Gately murder, that's why I remember the date. It was adreadfully cold snap, the river was full of ice and it's a wonder hewasn't killed, as well as knocked senseless."

  "Was he knocked senseless?"

  "I'm not sure, but he was unconscious from cold and exposure and verynearly frozen to death."

  "And his memory now?"

  "Is perfect in all respects, except he doesn't know who he is."

  "A fishy tale!"

  "No; you won't say so after you've seen him. When I say his memory isperfect, I mean regarding what he has read or has studied. But it is hispersonal recollections that have gone from him. He has no remembrance ofhis home or his friends or his own identity."

  "Can't you deduce his previous occupation?"

  "I can't. Perhaps you can. He can draw, and he is well-read, that's all Iknow."

  We were at my rooms by that time, and going up, we found Case Riversalready there awaiting us. I lamented my lack of promptness, but hegracefully waived my apology.

  "It's all right," he smiled in his good-humored way, "I've been browsingamong your books and having the time of my life."

  I introduced the two men, and told Rivers that Wise was the famousdetective I had mentioned to him.

  "I'm downright glad to know you," Rivers said, earnestly; "if you can doa bit of deduction as to who I am, I'll be under deepest obligation. Igive you myself as a clew."

  "Got a picture of Amory Manning?" asked Wise, abruptly.

  I handed him a folded newspaper, whose front page bore a cut of Manning,and the story of his mysterious disappearance.

  Wise studied the picture and compared it with the man before him.

  "Totally unlike," he said, disappointedly.

  "Not a chance," laughed Rivers; "I wish I could step into that chap'sshoes; but you see, I came from far away."

  "Tell me about that trip of yours," asked Wise.

  "Don't know much to tell," returned Rivers; "but what I do know, I knowpositively, so I'll warn you beforehand not to chuckle at me, for I won'tstand it!"

  Rivers showed a determination that I liked. It proved that I was right inascribing a strong character to him. He would stand chaffing as well asanyone I knew, but not on the subject of his fall through the earth.

  "I don't know when or where I started on my memorable journey, but Idistinctly remember my long, dark fall straight down through the earth.Now it would seem impossible, but I can aver that I entered in some verycold, arctic sort of country, and I came on down feet first, till I madeexit in New York. I was found, but how I got into the river, I don'tknow."

  "You were clothed when you started?"

  "I can only say that I assume I was. I'm a normal, decent sort of man,and I can't think I'd consciously set out on a trip of any sortundressed! But I've no doubt my swashing around in the ice-filled riverdid for my clothes. Probably, as related by the Ancient Mariner, 'the icewas here, the ice was there, the ice was all around: it cracked andgrowled and--something or other--and howled, like noises in a swound.'You see, I still know my 'Familiar Quotations' by heart."

  "That's a queer phase," and Wise shook his head. "It may be you are apoet----"

  "Well, I haven't poetized any since my recrudescence."

  "And that's another queer thing," pursued the detective. "Most victims ofaphasia can't remember words. You are exceptionally fluent and seem tohave a wide vocabulary."

  "I admit it all," and Rivers looked a little weary, as if he were tiredof speculating on his own case.

  "Now, to change the subject, how are you progressing, Mr. Wise, with yourpresent work? How goes the stalking of the murderer?"

  "Haven't got him yet, Mr. Rivers, but we've made a good start. You knowthe details?"

  "Only the newspaper accounts, and such additional information as Mr.Brice has given me. I'm greatly interested,--for,--tell it not to Gathdetectives,--I fancy I've a bent toward sleuthing myself."

  Pennington Wise smiled. "You're not alone in that," he said, chaffingly,but so good-naturedly that Rivers took no offense.

  "I suppose it's your reflected light that makes everybody who talks withyou feel that way," he came back. "Well, if you get up a stump, lean onme, Grandpa,--I'm 'most seven."

  And then we all three discussed the case, in all its phases, and thoughRivers said nothing of great importance, he showed such an intellectualgrasp of it all, and responded so intelligently to Wise's theories andopinions that the two soon became most friendly.

  The announcement of the rewards stirred Rivers to enthusiasm.

  "I'm going to get 'em!" he cried; "both of 'em! With all due respect toyou, Mr. Wise, I'm going to cut under and win out! Don't say I didn'twarn you, and hereafter all you say will be used against you! If there'sone thing I need more than another it's ten thousand dollars,--I couldeven do with twenty! So, here goes for Rivers, the swiftsure detective!"

  Not a bit offended, Penny Wise laughed outright.

  "Go ahead, my boy," he cried; "here's a bargain; you work with me, andI'll work with you. If we get either Manning or the murderer or both,then either or both rewards shall be yours. I'll be content with whatelse I can get out of it."

  "Done!" and Case Rivers was jubilant. "Perhaps Manning is the murderer,"he said, thoughtfully.

  "No," I put in. "That won't do. Manning is in love with Miss Raynor, andhe wouldn't queer his cause by killing her guardian."

  "But Guardy didn't approve of Suitor Manning," Rivers said.

  "No; but I know Manning and you don't,--well, that is, I know him onlyslightly. But I'm sure he's not the man to shoot a financial magnate anda first-class citizen just because he frowned on his suit. Try again,Rivers."

  "All right: what you say goes. But I'm just starting in, you know. And,by the way, I'm to get a job of some sort today--yes?"

  He looked at me inquiringly, but Wise answered. "Wait a bit, Rivers, asto that. If you'll agree, I'll grubstake you for a fortnight or so, andyou can help me. Really, I mean it, for as a stranger you can go toplaces, and see people, where I can't show my familiar face. Then, whenyou get the two rewards you can repay me my investment in you. And if youfail to nail the ten thousand, I'll take your note."

  "I'll go you!" said Rivers, after a moment's thought. "You're a brick,Penny Wise!"

  A tap at the door announced Norah, and with her came Jenny Boyd. Nor wasJenny dragged unwillingly,--she seemed eager to enter,--but her
absurdlittle painted face wore a look of stubbornness and her red lips wereshut in a determined pout.

  "Jenny knows who 'The Link' is, and she won't tell," Norah declared, as afirst bit of information.

  "Oh, yes, she will," and Penny Wise winked at the girl. He really gave avery knowing wink, as who should say: "We understand each other."

  As they had never met before, I watched to see just how Jenny would takeit, and to my surprise she looked decidedly frightened.

  Wise saw this too,--doubtless he brought about the effect purposely,--butin a moment Jenny regained her poise and was her saucy self again.

  "I don't know for sure," she said, "and so I don't want to get nobodyinto trouble by suspicioning them."

  "You won't get anybody into trouble," Wise assured her, "unless she hasmade the trouble for herself. Let's play a game, Jenny,--let's talk inriddles."

  Jenny eyed him curiously, and then, as he smiled infectiously, she did,too.

  "Now," went on Wise, "this is the game. I don't know, of course, whom youhave in mind, and you don't know whom I have in mind, so we'll play thegame this way: I'll say, 'I know she is a clever woman.' Now you make atruthful statement about her."

  Enthralled by his manner, Jenny said, almost involuntarily, "I know sheis a wrong one!"

  "I know she's pretty," said Wise.

  "I know she isn't!" snapped Jenny.

  "I know she is black-haired and dresses well and owns a scarab hatpin."

  "I know that, too," and Jenny was breathless with interest.

  "No; that won't do. You must know something different from my know."

  "Well, I know she's a friend of Mr. Rodman."

  "And of Mr. Gately," added Wise.

  "Oh, no, sir, I don't think so!" Jenny's surprise was unfeigned.

  "Well, I know she's a telegraph girl."

  "Yes: and I know she has more money to spend than she gets for a salary."

  "I know she's a good girl."

  "Oh, yes, sir,--that way. But she----"

  "She smokes cigarettes."

  "Yes; she does. Oh, I think that's awful."

  "Well, it's your turn. You know she's 'The Link'?"

  "I know she's been called that, but it isn't a regular nickname, and Idon't know what it means."

  "Where is she?"

  "Her work, you mean?"

  "Yes; she's in the company's office,----" Here Jenny whispered theaddress to Wise.

  "Good girl," he commented. "Keep it dark. No use in telling all thesepeople!"

  He turned to my telephone, then said: "No, Brice, you do it. CallHeadquarters and tell the Chief to arrest,--what's her name, Jenny?"

  "I--I didn't say, sir." The girl's caution was returning.

  "Say now, then," commanded Wise. "I know, anyway. It begins with S."

  "Her first name,--yes, sir."

  "And the last name with K. You see I know! So, out with it!"

  "Sadie Kent," whispered Jenny, her nerves beginning to go to pieces atrealizaton of what she had done.

  "Yes, of course. Sadie Kent. Go ahead, Brice. Fix it all up,--and go tothe telegraph office yourself. Meet the officers there. Scoot!"

  I scooted. The strong arm of the law works swiftly when it wills to doso. Within half an hour Sadie Kent was arrested at her key in thetelegraph office on charge of stealing confidential telegrams sent byofficials in Washington to munition plants and steamship companies anddelivering them to persons who she knew would transmit them to the GermanForeign Office.

  When approached, the girl,--the woman rather,--put up a bold bluff, butit was of no avail. She was taken into custody, and all her appeals formercy denied. All but one. She begged so hard to be allowed to telephoneto her mother that Hudson, who was present, softened.

  "You can't, my lady," he said, "but I'll have it done for you. Mr. Brice,now, maybe he'll do it."

  "Oh, if you would be so kind," and the beautiful brunette, for she wasthat, gave me a grateful look. "Just call 83649 Greenwich Square, and askfor Mrs. Kent. Then tell her, please, that--that I won't be home tonight.That's all."

  Her voice broke and she sobbed softly in her handkerchief.

  They took her away, to be detained pending developments. I made the calland gave the message exactly as she had asked me. A pleasant voiceresponded, saying the speaker was Mrs. Kent, and she thanked me forsending word.

  I hurried back to my rooms. Wise and Rivers were still there but Norahand Jenny had left. I had no sooner got my coat off than Zizi came flyingin.

  "Oh, everybody," she cried, in a whirl of excitement, "Olive's gone!She's kidnaped or abducted or something. A telephone message came and sheflew off, telling nobody but Mrs. Vail, and telling her not to tell!"

  "Where's she gone?" I cried, flinging back into my coat.

  "Nobody knows. I only got it out of Mrs. Vail this minute, and then onlyby threatening her with all sorts of horrors if she didn't tell me. Shedoesn't know where Olive's gone,--nobody knows,--but whoever telephonedsaid he had Amory Manning with him, just for a few moments and for her tocome at once if she wanted to see him. A car would come for her at fouro'clock, exactly, and she was to get in and ask no questions. And shedid--and she told Mrs. Vail that as soon as she got to Mr. Manning shewould telephone back,--in about fifteen minutes. And now it's over anhour! and no word from her! That stupid old woman just walks up and downand wrings her hands!"

  "I should think she would! Which way shall we look, Wise?"

  "I don't know, I'm sure!" and for once the resourceful detective wasabsolutely at a loss.

  "Oh, Penny Wise," and Zizi burst into tears, "if _you_ don't know what todo, nobody does! Olive will be killed or held for ransom or some dreadfulthing! What _can_ we do?"

  But the dull silence that fell on us all proved that no one present wasable to offer any suggestion.