CHAPTER XII
FOGERTY
At the Waldorf Arthur's own limousine was standing by the curb. Thestreet was nearly deserted. The last of the Kermess people had gonehome.
Weldon ran to his chauffeur.
"Did you take Miss Merrick home?" he eagerly enquired.
"Miss Merrick? Why, I haven't seen her, sir, I thought you'd allforgotten me."
The young man's heart sank. Despair seized him. The detective wascarefully examining the car.
"They're pretty nearly mates, Mr. Weldon. as far as the brown color andgeneral appearances go," he said. "But I'm almost positive the car thatcarried the young lady away was of another make."
"What make was it?"
The man shook his head.
"Can't say, sir. I was mighty stupid, and that's a fact. But my mind wasso full of that assault and battery case, and the trickery of thatfellow Mershone, that I wasn't looking for anything else."
"Can you get away?" asked Arthur. "Can you help me on this case?"
"No, sir; I must remain on duty at the hotel. But perhaps the young ladyis now safe at home, and we've been borrowing trouble. In case she'sbeen stolen, however, you'd better see Fogerty."
"Who's Fogerty?"
"Here's his card, sir. He's a private detective, and may be busy justnow, for all I know. But if you can get Fogerty you've got the best manin all New York."
Arthur sprang into the seat beside his driver and hurried post-haste tothe Merrick residence. In a few minutes Mrs. Merrick was in violenthysterics at the disappearance of her daughter. Arthur stopped longenough to telephone for a doctor and then drove to the Doyles. He routedup Uncle John and the Major, who appeared in pajamas and bath-robes, andtold them the startling news.
A council of war was straightway held. Uncle John trembled withnervousness; Arthur was mentally stupefied; the Major alone was calm.
"In the first place," said he, "what object could the man have incarrying off Louise?" Arthur hesitated.
"To prevent our marriage, I suppose," he answered. "Mershone has an ideahe loves Louise. He made wild love to her until she cut hisacquaintance."
"But it won't help him any to separate her from her friends, or herpromised husband," declared the Major. "Don't worry. We're sure to findher, sooner or later."
"How? How shall we find her?" cried Uncle John. "Will he murder her, orwhat?"
"Why, as for that, John, he's safe locked up in jail for the present,and unable to murder anyone," retorted the Major. "It's probable hemeant to follow Louise, and induce her by fair means or foul to marryhim. But he's harmless enough for the time being."
"It's not for long, though," said Arthur, fearfully. "They're liable tolet him out in the morning, for he has powerful friends, scoundrelthough he is. And when he is free--"
"Then he must be shadowed, of course," returned the Major, noddingwisely. "If it's true the fellow loves Louise, then he's no intentionof hurting her. So make your minds easy. Wherever the poor lass has beentaken to, she's probably safe enough."
"But think of her terror--her suffering!" cried Uncle John, wringing hischubby hands. "Poor child! It may be his idea to compromise her, andbreak her heart!"
"We'll stop all that, John, never fear," promised the Major. "The firstthing to do is to find a good detective."
"Fogerty!" exclaimed Arthur, searching for the card.
"Who's Fogerty?"
"I don't know."
"Get the best man possible!" commanded Mr. Merrick. "Spare no expense;hire a regiment of detectives, if necessary; I'll--"
"Of course you will," interrupted the Major, smiling. "But we won't needa regiment. I'm pretty sure the game is in our hands, from the verystart."
"Fogerty is highly recommended," explained Arthur, and related what thehouse detective of the Waldorf had said.
"Better go at once and hunt him up," suggested Uncle John. "What time isit?"
"After two o'clock. But I'll go at once." "Do; and let us hear from youwhenever you've anything to tell us," said the Major.
"Where's Patsy?" asked Arthur.
"Sound asleep. Mind ye, not a word of this to Patsy till she _has_ to betold. Remember that, John."
"Well, I'll go," said the young man, and hurried away.
Q. Fogerty lived on Eleventh street, according to his card. Arthur drovedown town, making good time. The chauffeur asked surlily if this was tobe "an all-night job," and Arthur savagely replied that it might take aweek. "Can't you see, Jones, that I'm in great trouble?" he added. "Butyou shall be well paid for your extra time."
"All right, sir. That's no more than just," said the man. "It's none ofmy affair, you know, if a young lady gets stolen."
Arthur was wise enough to restrain his temper and the temptation to kickJones out of the limousine. Five minutes later they paused before ablock of ancient brick dwellings and found Fogerty's number. A card overthe bell bore his name, and Arthur lit a match and read it. Then he rangimpatiently.
Only silence.
Arthur rang a second time; waited, and rang again. A panic of fear tookpossession of him. At this hour of night it would be well-nighimpossible to hunt up another detective if Fogerty failed him. Hedetermined to persist as long as there was hope. Again he rang.
"Look above, sir," called Jones from his station in the car.
Arthur stepped back on the stone landing and looked up. A round spark,as from a cigarette, was visible at the open window. While he gazed thespark glowered brighter and illumined a pale, haggard boy's face,surmounted by tousled locks of brick colored hair.
"Hi, there!" said Arthur. "Does Mr. Fogerty live here?"
"He pays the rent," answered a boyish voice, with a tinge of irony."What's wanted?" "Mr. Fogerty is wanted. Is he at home?"
"He is," responded the boy.
"I must see him at once--on important business. Wake him up, my lad;will you?"
"Wait a minute," said the youth, and left the window. Presently heopened the front door, slipped gently out and closed the door behindhim.
"Let's sit in your car," he said, in soft, quiet tones. "We can talkmore freely there."
"But I must see Fogerty at once!" protested Arthur.
"I'm Fogerty."
"Q. Fogerty?"
"Quintus Fogerty--the first and last and only individual of that name."
Arthur hesitated; he was terribly disappointed.
"Are you a detective?" he enquired.
"By profession."
"But you can't be very old."
The boy laughed.
"I'm no antiquity, sir," said he, "but I've shed the knickerbockerslong ago. Who sent you to me?"
"Why do you ask?"
"I'm tired. I've been busy twenty-three weeks. Just finished my caseyesterday and need a rest--a good long rest. But if you want a man I'llrefer you to a friend."
"Gorman, of the Waldorf, sent me to you--and said you'd help me."
"Oh; that's different. Case urgent, sir?"
"Very. The young lady I'm engaged to marry was abducted less than threehours ago."
Fogerty lighted another cigarette and the match showed Arthur that theyoung face was deeply lined, while two cold gray eyes stared blanklyinto his own.
"Let's sit in your limousine, sir," he repeated.
When they had taken their places behind the closed doors the boy askedArthur to tell him "all about it, and don't forget any details, please."So Weldon hastily told the events of the evening and gave a history ofMershone and his relations with Miss Merrick. The story was not halftold when Fogerty said:
"Tell your man to drive to the police station."
On the way Arthur resumed his rapid recital and strove to post theyoung detective as well as he was able. Fogerty made no remarks, nor didhe ask a single question until Weldon had told him everything he couldthink of. Then he made a few pointed enquiries and presently they hadarrived at the station.
The desk sergeant bowed with great respect to the youthful detective. Bythe dim lig
ht Arthur was now able to examine Fogerty for the first time.
He was small, slim and lean. His face attested to but eighteen ornineteen years, in spite of its deep lines and serious expression.Although his hair was tangled and unkempt Fogerty's clothing and linenwere neat and of good quality. He wore a Scotch cap and a horseshoe pinin his cravat.
One might have imagined him to be an errand boy, a clerk, a chauffeur, asalesman or a house man. You might have placed him in almost anymiddle-class walk in life. Perhaps, thought Arthur, he might even be agood detective! yet his personality scarcely indicated it.
"Mershone in, Billy?" the detective asked the desk sergeant.
"Room 24. Want him?"
"Not now. When is he likely to go?"
"When Parker relieves me. There's been a reg'lar mob here to getMershone off. I couldn't prevent his using the telephone; but I'm astubborn duck; eh, Quintus? And now the gentleman has gone to bed,vowing vengeance."
"You're all right, Billy. We both know Mershone. Gentleman scoundrel."
"Exactly. Swell society blackleg."
"What name's he docked under?"
"Smith."
"Will Parker let him off with a fine?"
"Yes, or without it. Parker comes on at six."
"Good. I'll take a nap on that bench. Got to keep the fellow in sight,Billy."
"Go into my room. There's a cot there."
"Thanks, old man; I will. I'm dead tired."
Then Fogerty took Arthur aside. "Go home and try to sleep," headvised. "Don't worry. The young lady's safe enough till Mershone goesto her hiding place. When he does, I'll be there, too, and I'll try tohave you with me."
"Do you think you can arrange it alone, Mr. Fogerty?" asked Arthur,doubtfully. The boy seemed so very young.
"Better than if I had a hundred to assist me. Why, this is an easy job,Mr. Weldon. It 'll give me a fine chance to rest up."
"And you won't lose Mershone?"
"Never. He's mine."
"This is very important to me, sir," continued Arthur, nervously.
"Yes; and to others. Most of all it's important to Fogerty. Don't worry,sir."
The young man was forced to go away with this assurance. He returnedhome, but not to sleep. He wondered vaguely if he had been wise to leanupon so frail a reed as Fogerty seemed to be; and above all he wonderedwhere poor Louise was, and if terror and alarm were breaking her heart.
Aunt Jane's Nieces in Society Page 12
