CHAPTER VII.

THE LITTLE BROWN JAP.

Patrolman Phelan wrapped his sinewy fist about the handle of his club

with a vicious grip as he proceeded cautiously up the steps. The heavy

bronze door had been left ajar, and he squeezed through without

opening it further, then paused in the vestibule and listened. What he

heard seemed no more than the tread of a spider, and the thought

rushed into his head:

"'Tis one of that felt-soled kind. 'Tis tip-toes for Phelan."

He had noted that even the inside door was open, and he swiftly

divined from this that the thief had left it open for his own

convenience or for some other purpose connected with the mysteries of

burglar alarms. Inch by inch the policeman moved across the vestibule

and wriggled through the door into the richly carpeted hallway.

It was with a distinct sense of relief that he felt his heavy boots

sink noiselessly into the deep ply of a precious Daghestan rug. One of

Phelan's boots had a bad creak in it, and he knew that the master

crook who would attempt such a robbery as this would have an acute

sense of hearing.

It was dark as a pocket down the stretch of the heavily curtained

foyer, save for a meagre shaft of light that came through a slightly

parted pair of portières to the left and not a dozen feet from where

he stood. He strained his ear toward this shaft of light until there

came an unmistakable swish of sound, whereupon he moved forward in

short, gliding steps.

When he reached the break in the portières and looked in he was

astonished to see a short little man with shiny black hair deftly

removing the linen covers from chairs and tables and statuary. The

little man had his back to Phelan as the policeman stepped inside, but

he turned in a flash and confronted the intruder with the peculiar

glazed grimness of the Japanese.

"Well, what matter?" ripped out the little Jap, without moving a

muscle.

"That's what I come to find out," retorted Phelan, with accusing

severity of tone.

"How you get in here?" retorted the Jap in the same sharp, emotionless

tones.

"I saw ye snakin' in an' ye didn't latch the door after yez," blurted

Phelan, taking a step nearer the Jap and still watching him with

profound suspicion.

"What you want?" asked the Jap with a slight tremor of apprehension.

"Information!" cried Phelan. "What are yez doin' in here?" Phelan's

eye swept the room for some evidence of an attempt to despoil. Though

he saw none he did not relinquish his attitude of suspicion. The Jap

seemed about to speak and then stopped. As Phelan continued to glower

at him, he snapped out:

"I no can tell."

Triumph blazed in Phelan's eyes. Now he was sure he had a thief and he

determined to handle the situation with all the majesty of his

official person.

"So yez can't tell what yez're doin' in this house," he said with fine

sarcasm.

The Jap shook his head emphatically and returned a positive, "No

tell!"

Phelan balanced his club for a moment and strode toward the Jap.

"Yez better come with me," he said through compressed lips.

The Jap started back with a frightened exclamation.

"You no take me to jail?" he uttered, while his yellow features

twitched with fear.

"In a minute," replied the elated officer, "if yez don't tell me what

yez're doin' here. I've been lookin' out for this place while Mr.

Gladwin was in foreign parts, and"----

"You know Mr. Gladwin?" broke in the Jap, excitedly.

"No, I ain't never seen him," said Phelan, "but I know this is his

house an' I been keepin' my eye on it fer him."

"Mr. Gladwin--he my boss!" and the Jap grinned from ear to ear.

This solution of the mystery never entered the policeman's head and he

resented the surprise.

"Do yez mean yez're his valley?" he asked vindictively, refusing to

relinquish his suspicion.

"Ees!" and again the Jap grinned.

Phelan read the grin as a distinct insult to his intelligence and he

pounced upon the little brown man in an even more caustic tone:

"If yez're are Mr. Gladwin's valley, what are ye doin' here an' him

thousands o' miles away across the ocean in Agypt an' Jerusalem an'

the like?"

Now it was Phelan's turn to grin as he saw the Jap shrink and turn

upon him a pair of wildly alarmed eyes.

"Come! Come! I'm waitin' fer an answer," The cat had his mouse backed

into a corner and mentally licked his chops.

"I no can tell," stammered the Jap, desperately.

"That's enough!" ripped out Officer 666, grabbing the Jap by the

shoulder and yanking him toward the doorway.

"No--no--wait!" gasped the struggling prisoner. "You no say if I tell

you, plees?"

"Tell me first," grunted Phelan, releasing his grip.

The Jap ducked his head in every direction as if fearful that the

walls had ears, then said in an impressive whisper:

"My boss--Mr. Gladwin--home!"

"Misther Gladwin home! Here in New York!" There was both incredulity

and amazement in Phelan's voice.

"Ees!" bleated the Jap and his grin returned.

"Well, why didn't you say so before?" said Phelan angrily, at which

the fidgety little brown son of Nippon hastened to explain:

"No one should know. He come all in much secret. He go boat to Boston.

No use name. No one know he Mr. Gladwin. He say, 'Bateato'--me

Bateato--'Bateato,' he say, 'no tell I come home--sure,' he say, and

Bateato he no tell."

Officer Phelan yielded to the grip of the mystery and his attitude

toward the Jap changed.

"What did he want to snake home that away fer?"

"I no know," nodded Bateato.

"Yez no know, eh? Well, is he comin' here?--do yez no know that?"

"He tell me--come here and wait--feex thees room--he come here or

telephone."

The straightforward manner of the little Jap had almost completely

disarmed the policeman's suspicion, but he surrendered reluctantly.

"Did he give yez a key to get in here?" Phelan fired as his last

shot.

"Ees--he give me all bunch keys--look!" and Bateato produced a gold

key ring with a gold tag and a number of keys attached. Phelan

examined it and read aloud the name Travers Gladwin engraved on the

tag. Handing them back to the Jap, he addressed him impressively,

gesturing his emphasis with his baton:

"I guess yez're all right, but I'll have me eye on yez from the

outside, mind that--and if yez're foolin' me or tryin' to get away

with anythin'"----

Phelan snapped his lips together and with a mighty lunge plucked an

imaginary prisoner out of the atmosphere and shook it ferociously.

Then stepping back to the doorway he shut one eye with a fierce wink

and jerked out:

"Are yez wise?"

The profound pantomime was too much for Bateato, who stared after the

vanishing officer in open-mouthed amazement.