Books: Number Seventeen
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Louis Tracy >> Number Seventeen
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"That's a bad job for the policeman; it is nothing very remarkable
otherwise," said Theydon.
"But the milkman heard he was set about by three swells, young
gentlemen in evening dress, sir, who ran away when another constable
appeared."
"Very likely. There was a row, and the law got the worst of it.
Anyhow, we were not disturbed during the night."
"No, sir. I was only thinkin' of what might have happened if the
police were not on the job."
"Look here, Bates"-- and Theydon's manner was most emphatic-- "if you
and I begin seeing shadows we'll soon collect a fine show of Chinese
ghosts. I'm astonished at you, a man who has been under fire."
"Sorry, sir. I thought you'd like to hear the lytest, that's all."
Theydon ate a hearty breakfast, thus proving that the marvels and
portents of the previous day had not begun to undermine his
constitution. Finding he had time, after attending to his
correspondence, to walk to Handyside's hotel in the Strand, he did so.
The American was awaiting him at the end of a long, thin cigar.
"Any noos?" said the Chicagoan, after a cheerful greeting.
"Yes. The feud continues. You heard about those ivory skulls
yesterday?"
"Yes, sir. They reminded me of the tales of my youth."
"Well, I got mine last night. Here it is!"
"Gee whiz!"
Handyside took the small object which Theydon produced from a
waistcoat pocket. He examined it with minute care.
"I've never crossed the Pacific," he said, after apparently satisfying
himself as to the exact nature of the unpleasant token, "but one of my
hobbies is the collection of ivories. In my home--"
"21,097 Park Avenue," interrupted Theydon.
"Just so-- four doors short of 211th Street. Well, sir, when you blow
in there you'll see a roomful of curios. I'm not exactly a
connoisseur, but I know enough to tell Japanese work from Chinese.
This was made by a Jap. And that reminds me. You said last night that
Wong Li Fu put you off your balance by a jiu jitsu trick and handed
that husky detective some, too. Very few Chinks have ever even heard
of jiu jitsu. I've a notion that a bunch of Japs is mixed up in this
business."
"Surely not?"
"It's possible. You good people here are crazy in your treatment of
the Japanese. You think they're civilized because they dress in good
shape, and can put up a mighty spry imitation of Western ways. But
they ain't. They're the greatest menace to Europe that has yet come up
on the tape. Do you believe they want China to wake up and organize
before they're ready to take hold? No, sir. Anyhow, that skull was
carved by a Japanese artist, and a bully good one at that."
The two were standing near the fireplace of a square and spacious
foyer. There were plenty of people in the place, some conversing with
friends, others writing or doing business at the various bureaus. It
chanced that Theydon faced the two swing doors which led to the
street, and he was returning the bit of ivory to his pocket when,
somewhat to his surprise, Furneaux entered.
The detective saw him, too-- of that he was quite certain-- but
ignored him completely. After one sharp, comprehensive glance around,
as though he were seeking some one who was not visible, the little man
went to a desk, scribbled a note, handed it in at the inquiry office,
walked swiftly in the direction of an anteroom and restaurant, and
disappeared forthwith.
Theydon was puzzled by Furneaux's behavior, but was quick to perceive
that if the latter had not wished to be left alone he would at least
have made some sign of recognition.
A page approached Mr. Handyside.
"Note for you, sir," he said.
The American opened the envelope and read a few lines scribbled on a
sheet of note-paper. He passed it to Theydon.
"The circus is now about to commence," he said, and the meaning of
this enigmatical remark was made clear when Theydon saw what was
written.
"Dear Sir," it ran, "take Mr. Theydon to your room. I'll join you
there immediately.-- C. F. Furneaux."
"If this is the little sleuth who was missing yesterday I guess we've
gotten our call," commented Handyside, with an amused grin at the
expression of bewilderment on his companion's face.
"I was just about to tell you that Furneaux had come in and crossed
the hall."
"Well, let's beat it to the third floor. I have the key in my pocket."
They were walking through a long corridor when Furneaux appeared at
the other end. Beyond the three men, not another person was visible in
that part of the hotel, and in a few seconds they were behind the
closed door of Handyside's room.
"So you're still on the map?" said the detective, surveying Theydon
with an air of professional interest.
"Yes, but I have received notice to quit," was the retort.
"So I hear. The executioner was quick on the heels of the warrant,
too. If it had not been for the precautions Winter took last night the
newsboys would have been bawling a second Innesmore Mansions tragedy
during the past couple of hours."
Theydon smiled.
"I'm not joking," snapped Furneaux. "In fact, I feel rather bad about
it. I woke up at eight o'clock, and pictured you and Bates and his
wife lying about in No. 18 in very uncomfortable and ungainly
attitudes. I was so worried and miserable that I telephoned your hall
porter to learn the worst, and was quite astonished when he said that
Bates had just been chatting with him. You don't understand, of
course. I forgot to tell you about the lift. Wong Li Fu's special
delegate climbed into No. 17 by that means and three of 'em would have
reached you last night in the same way if a policeman hadn't met them
in the street."
"My man heard about the row. He guessed, too, that it had something to
do with us. The policeman was badly injured, he was told."
"Yes-- nothing broken; he was put to sleep by some confounded Japanese
wrestling trick."
"Japanese, you say?"
"Precisely. The Young Manchus are being backed up by a second gang
which calls itself the 'Sons of Nippon.' I don't know what London is
coming to. We've entertained Anarchists, Nihilists and Dynamitards for
years. Now we have the Yellow Peril with us. I wish I were King for a
few days. There would be a bigger clearance of reptiles out of England
than St. Patrick made in Ireland."
"Mr. Handyside here told me only ten minutes since that he was
convinced there were Japs in league with the Chinese."
"How did you know?" and Furneaux whirled round on the American
instantly.
"By using the gray matter at the back of my head," was the reply. "No
Chink ever taught Wong Li Fu how to put away two chesty individuals
like Mr. Theydon and your painter, Mr. Winter. But I couldn't be sure
till I had seen the ivory skull. Then I knew."
"So did I know yesterday morning," said Furneaux, "and a deuce of a
time the discovery gave me. Anyhow, the street fight outside Innesmore
Mansions at daybreak today settles the matter. There were two Japanese
and one Chinaman. The Japs outed the policeman. Fortunately he and
another man made a five-minute point at each end of the mansions, and,
as No. 1 failed to turn up, No. 2 went to look for him. He saw the end
of the row, and ran to help, blowing his whistle for assistance.
Unfortunately for us, two of the three confounded blackguards
escaped."
"O, you've got one, then?" cried Theydon.
"Yes, a Jap. The constable was wise enough to give him the point of
his truncheon in the gullet, and that settled him."
"I wonder if he is the one who would have been shot had he broken into
my flat," said Theydon musingly.
"Shot! Man alive, you'd never have heard him!"
"Not till he had a bullet lodged securely in his inside, it is true.
Bates and I surveyed that lift last night, Mr. Furneaux, and regarded
it as the weak part of our defenses, so we arranged that an automatic
pistol should live up to its name, and fire at any one who opened the
sliding panel."
"Did you now?" said Furneaux admiringly. "Whose brainy idea was that--
yours or Bates's?"
"A joint effort," he said, with a self-satisfied smile.
"Well, I'm glad it didn't come off. British law is a fearsome and
wonderful thing. You might both have got ten years for fixing a
man-trap, to wit, a lethal engine. However, during the next few days
you're going to change your abode. Tell Bates and his wife that they
need a holiday, and ought to visit relatives in Yorkshire or North
Wales. Pack what you need for a week, at least, and make straight for
Fortescue Square."
"Are you joking?" said Theydon, genuinely astounded.
"Do I look it?" And, indeed, the detective did not. "Winter has just
settled that program with Mr. Forbes. You see, you're in this affair
now, neck and crop, and it's easier for us to safeguard one place than
two. You're pleased, aren't you? Doesn't a pretty girl live there?"
"Sir," said Handyside, "he's tickled to death, and that's a fact. I'm
the only one to make a kick. I kind of reckoned on being allowed to
play a walking-on part in this drama, but I look like being cut out in
the new shuffle."
"I can make use of you," said Furneaux promptly. "You've seen Wong Li
Fu, and would know him again?"
"Yes, sir."
"And you can tell a Japanese from a Chinaman at sight?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. You're enrolled. Next thing you'll be receiving an ivory skull,
too. These beggars are the smartest crowd I've come across in twenty
years. I think they would have beaten us if it hadn't happened that
Mr. Theydon and you, each of you strangers to the Forbes family, were
selected by fate to intervene at psychological moments. The Young
Manchus and their allies had the ground surveyed thoroughly. They even
had us of the Yard marked down. Oh, it's a plot and a half, I can
assure you, and the worst thing is that the real struggle is yet
ahead. All that has happened before is mere skirmishing compared with
what's to come."
"Is that why you covered up your tracks, even in this hotel, before
you came to my room?" inquired Handyside.
"It is, and let me tell you that you're a living example of a
contradiction in terms. You use your brains, Mr. Handyside, yet you
smoke a cigar calculated to atrophy the keenest intellect. You, an
American, chewing a vile Burmese Cheroot! Cre' nom d'un pipe! When
this bubble has burst I must reason with you!"
CHAPTER XIV
WHEREIN THEYDON SUFFERS FROM FAINT HEART
Furneaux, with that phenomenally clear mind of his, had perceived and
expressed in one trenchant sentence the outstanding and almost unique
feature of the tragic mystery which centered around the death of Edith
Lester. Theydon's connection with either international finance or the
rebirth of China was remote as that of the man in the moon. Yet he had
been pitchforked by fate into an active and, indeed, dominating
influence over those phases of both undertakings which were peculiar
to London.
Theydon mused on this element in an unprecedented situation as he sat
in the taxicab which bore him swiftly to Innesmore Mansions. Another
quite abnormal condition was the ignorance of London with regard to
the fierce struggle now being waged in its midst.
On the one hand, a few Oriental fanatics-- most of whom were probably
less swayed by racial enthusiasm than by good payment for services
rendered-- were carrying out the orders of a master criminal with a
sublime indifference to the laws framed by the "foreign devils" whom
they despised; on the other were ranged the three members of the
Forbes family and Theydon himself, supported by the forces of the
Crown, it was true, but singularly isolated from the knowledge and
sympathy of their fellow-citizens.
Miss Beale hardly counted. The servants in Fortescue Square shared
with Bates and his wife a sort of territorial interest in the fight.
When Fortune picked an occasional warrior for the fray she chose a man
from Chicago, a motorcyclist from Eastbourne, a policeman in Charing
Cross road.
How portentous had been that hand raised to stem the traffic at a
congested corner on the Monday night! Into what a vortex of crime and
passion had it not pointed, all unknowing!
If the cab in which Theydon was hurrying home from Daly's Theater had
not been delayed by the dispute between driver and policeman, he would
never have known that the millionaire visited Innesmore Mansions, and
the subsequent course of the night's history might have left him
wholly unaffected.
Then his wayward thoughts took to brooding on the gray car which
shadowed him from Waterloo to Fortescue Square, and again from the
square to his own abode. If it held some member of the Embassy staff,
why had no more been heard of it? And what had Winter and Furneaux
meant by hinting that far wider issues were bound up with the affair
than the authorities were yet at liberty to divulge? The attack on
Forbes, sinister and malevolent in its scope and purpose, was, in a
sense, open warfare. But it was impossible to guess what part, if any,
the official representatives of China filled in the fray. Were they
active allies of Scotland Yard or did they hold what is known in the
law courts as a watching brief? He could not tell. He only knew that
each successive period of twenty-four hours broadened the area covered
by the struggle, and there, at least, he found solid backing for the
little detective's demand that the threatened people should dwell
under one roof. His pulses quickened at the notice that this new
departure implied constant association with Evelyn Forbes. Yet, what
did it avail? Why should he dream of fanning into a fiercer fury the
flame of his love? As matters stood, he had about as much chance of
marrying Evelyn Forbes as of becoming Emperor of China!
The incongruity of the situation was illustrated with cruel accuracy
by the fact that he could ill afford the stoppage of his work demanded
by the present trend of events. He earned what might be regarded as a
good income by his pen, but his expenses were not light, and he had
deemed himself fortunate the previous year when he was able to invest
a hundred pounds!
As a matter of fact, the interest on his "securities" paid for his
gloves and ties; another lucky year might see him provided for life
with boots and socks! He pictured himself-- if he were idiot enough,
when all this turmoil was ended, to pose as a suitor for Evelyn
Forbes's hand-- explaining his financial position to the millionaire,
and wilting under the scornful amusement in those earnest, deep-seeing
eyes. Phew! He grew hot at the mere notion of such folly.
Little wonder, therefore, that the driver of the taxi should gaze
quizzically after Theydon's alert figure as it vanished in the
stairway of Innesmore Mansions.
"Got the hump, an' pretty bad," soliloquized the man. "Gimme a bob
over the fare, an' all, so can't be stony. But Lord love a duck, you
never can tell!"
Theydon was about to unlock the door of his flat when it opened in his
face, and his sister nearly collided with him. She screamed slightly,
a certain quality of alarm in her exclamation merging instantly into
joyful recognition.
"So you have come home!" she cried. "My goodness! What a fright you've
given me!"
"Why?" he said, with a reassuring and brotherly hug.
"I've had horrid dreams. I couldn't rest all last night for thinking
of you."
"Is George absent?" George was her husband, a consulting engineer,
whose professional duties often took him to distant parts of the
country.
"Yes."
"Then you and Miss Beale have been living on tea and scraps. Really,
Mollie, I credited you with more sense. Tell me what you ate last
night, and I'll diagnose your dreams."
"We dined at a first-class restaurant in the West End," said Mrs.
Paxton indignantly. "It would be much more to the point if you
explained how you have been living the past few days. I have not been
so worried about anything since George was trapped in that horrid
mine."
Mollie was on the verge of tears. Her brother resolved instantly to
minimize matters, or she would fret more than ever on his account.
"Now, look here, old girl," he said, meeting her critical glance
steadily. "Miss Beale has been putting absurd notions into that
stylish little head of yours. By the way, is that the latest thing in
hats? It suits you admirably."
Mrs. Paxton smiled, though her eyes were glistening suspiciously.
"You can't humbug me, Frank, so please don't try," she protested. "Why
are you mixed up in this dreadful business? Why are you constantly
meeting detectives? Why did you rush off to Eastbourne yesterday? When
did you become acquainted with this Mr. Forbes? Have you seen his
daughter?"
Theydon was at least sufficiently well versed in the peculiarities of
the feminine temperament to know that he would, be safe in answering
the last question first.
"Yes," he said. "I have seen a good deal of Miss Forbes recently. Have
you ever met her?"
"She was at the horse show last year with Lady de Winton's party.
She's an awfully pretty girl, and will be worth millions, I suppose.
Some one said that young de Winton was simply crazy about her, but he
looks such a sloppy youth that I could hardly imagine those two
getting married. Of course, there's the title, yet a title is not
everything."
Young de Winton! Theydon had not even been aware hitherto of the
existence of a marriageable scion of that noble house.
"That particular young spark has not been in evidence during the past
few days at any rate," he commented, and his voice was not so
nonchalant as he imagined, because Mrs. Paxton looked up quickly.
"Perhaps it was only idle gossip," she said. "Is Miss Forbes a nice
girl to talk to? She struck me as being very animated."
"Animated"-- while in the company of that undoubted oaf, de Winton!
Theydon choked back something tinged with gall as he replied quietly:
"She could not well help being highly intelligent. Her father and
mother are charming people. I was introduced to Mr. Forbes owing to a
magazine commission to write an article about his interest in
aviation. Now you see how promptly even the most gorgeous bubble
bursts when it impinges against a solid little fact. As it happens,
Mr. Forbes and I will have so much in common during the next day or
two that I am now going to stay with him. I came here to pack a
portmanteau. If you'll be a good little girl and listen while I'm at
the telephone you will hear all about it."
The words were no sooner uttered than he wanted to recall them. It
would be no easy matter to discuss Furneaux's suggestion with any one
in Fortescue Square without letting his sister into the secret that
the visit was necessitated by considerations of his own personal
safety.
Mrs. Paxton's eyes were sparkling with a new interest.
"I had no idea you were on terms of such intimacy with the family,"
she cried. "Don't tell me, Frank, that your flights have taken you to
the elevated region in which millionaires' daughters figure as
possible brides!"
"Now you are making me out a Mormon," and Theydon grinned fiercely.
"You know what I mean. This Miss Forbes-- by the way, what is her
Christian name?"
"Let me see. I think I have heard it. Doris, is it, or Phyllis? No, I
remember now-- Evelyn."
"O, then, if you are so vague on that point I suppose I must reconcile
myself to owning a bachelor brother again."
He shook his head at her.
"Ah, you women!" he said. "Yet I used to regard you as quite a
sensible person, Mollie! Now, how in the name of goodness could I
possibly entertain any notion of marrying the only daughter of a man
in Forbes's position?"
"It all depends," was the illogical but crushing retort. "There are
plenty of millionaires' daughters whom I would not regard as good
enough for my brother. And, let me tell you, the family is making
progress. A little bird whispered the other day that George's name
will appear in the next list of honors. He is to receive a
knighthood."
It was not new to Theydon to learn that his brother-in-law stood in
high favor with the Government, because Paxton had been appointed on
two Royal Commissions with reference to mining regulations, but he
affected a surprised incredulity as offering a way of escape from an
inquisition which he dreaded.
"Dear me!" he smirked.
Therein he erred. His sister gave him a puzzled glance.
"You are not yourself today, Frank," she said dubiously. "You are
acting. For whose benefit? Not mine, surely!"
"If your prospective ladyship will pardon me I will now go to the
telephone," he countered.
Anything, even a mad jumble of incoherence in his talk with the Forbes
household, was better than the troubled scrutiny of those clear brown
eyes. Leaving the door open so that his sister could hear his side of
the conversation, he rang up No. 11 Fortescue Square.
The butler answered.
"That you, Tomlinson?" said Theydon. "Will you ask Mr. Forbes if I am
to turn up in time for afternoon tea? If it is more convenient that I
should arrive later I have lots of things to attend to, and can fill
in a few hours easily."
"I really don't know what to say, sir," came the astounding answer.
"Mrs. Forbes has been shot--"
"Great heavens!"
"Yes, sir. She was merely looking out through the drawing-room window,
when some one fired at her from a passing motor car."
"Do you mean that she is dead?"
"No, sir-- not quite so bad as that. The bullet struck her left
shoulder. A few inches lower and it would have pierced her heart. The
doctors are with her now. I--"
Some interruption took place on the line and the butler's voice
ceased. Theydon, careless now as to what construction his sister might
place on his words, was about to storm at the exchange for cutting the
communication. He meant to say that on no consideration would he
inflict the presence of a stranger at such a terrible moment, when a
coldly metallic, almost harsh question reached him.
"That you, Theydon?"
"Yes," he said. Forbes was speaking.
"I was crossing the hall, and guessed it might be you. Come as soon as
you are at liberty. You will be welcome. If we are to be besieged I
want some one who will not be afraid to shoot. These policemen are too
scrupulous. They saw some cursed Mongol leaning out through the window
of the closed car, and could have either shot him or put a bullet so
close that his aim would have been disturbed. As it was, my wife only
escaped death by the mercy of Providence. She bent slightly at the
very instant the would-be assassin fired, and the bullet simply
lacerated her shoulder. After this, I'll defend myself and my
womenfolk, but I need at least one other man whom I can trust. Will
you come?"
"I'll be with you within twenty minutes."
He heard the clang of the receiver being replaced on its rest at the
other end of the wire. Somehow, the sound conveyed a new determination
on Forbes's part. He had his back to the wall. No matter what view the
law took of his action subsequently, he would protect his dear ones at
all hazards.
After that, Theydon hesitated no longer.
"Bates," he cried, "throw into a bag such clothes as I shall need for
a few days' stay in Mr. Forbes's house. When I am gone, pack your own
boxes and take a week's holiday. Go anywhere you like, out of London,
but go at once. Send me your address, care of Mr. Forbes, and I'll let
you know when I want you again."
"If it's a matter of holdin' out against them--"
Bates intended making a declaration of war, but his employer broke in
emphatically.
"I want you to obey my orders fully and unquestionably," he said.
Bates promptly became the well-trained valet once more.
"Yes, sir," he said. "Your portmanteau will be ready in ten minutes.
Half an hour later me an' Mrs. Bates will leave for my cousin's place
in Hampshire."
Theydon returned to the sitting room. His sister's face was white with
fear, but he threw restraint to the winds.
"Mollie," he said, placing his hands on her shoulders, "you are very
dear to me, but there is one woman in the world who, if fate proves
kind, may yet be dearer. She is in danger. If some one said that of
you to your husband, what would he do?"
She kissed him with tremulous lips. "He would act just as you are
going to act," she said. "But, dear, can't you trust me? I cannot
help, perhaps, but I can pray for you."
"Well, then, Sis, I won't fence with you any longer. There's a sort of
feud between Mr. Forbes and a faction in China. He helped the
reformers financially, and some supporters of the dethroned dynasty
are trying to compel him by force to give them a list of the prominent
men who control the revolution. If he yields, it means that nearly a
hundred leading men in China-- men whose only thought is the welfare
and progress of their country-- will be ruthlessly murdered. If he
continues to refuse, his own life and the lives of his wife and
daughter are at stake. These fiends killed Mrs. Lester within a few
feet of this very room. They killed her husband six months ago. They
tried to kidnap Evelyn Forbes yesterday, and succeeded, for a while,
in carrying off her mother, their plan being to torture one or both,
even unto death. Heaven help me, I love Evelyn Forbes, and I would
count my life well spent if I died in defending her. Should anything
happen to me and she is spared, tell her that, will you-- and my
spirit will thank you."
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