CHAPTER XVI

For a person so fastidious and particular, so fond of the luxurious and

the elegant, Signor Keralio had certainly selected a queer neighborhood

for his abode. Miles distant from the fashionable centers, far away up

in the Bronx, he occupied the entire top floor of a dingy, broken down

tenement. There were no other people in the house, it being in such

bad repair that no one cared to live in it, and as Keralio paid as much

as all the previous tenants combined and made no requests for

improvements, the landlord was only too glad to leave him undisturbed.

It was situated at the extreme end of a blind alley and, there being no

egress from the street save at one end, there was consequently little

or no traffic and, for the great part of the day and night, the silence

was as deep and unbroken as in the open country.

With his neighbors Signor Keralio was distantly polite, but never

intimate. The district was a poor one, being settled mostly by Italian

laborers who rose and went to bed with the sun and toiled too long and

too hard each day to bother their heads as to why such a fine gentleman

as the Signor appeared to be, should live in such squalid quarters. No

one had ever been admitted to his flat. If the baker called, he left

the bread on the mat; if a chance peddler or book agent happened to

wander in, he had to talk through closed doors. The Signor was always

busy and could not be disturbed. The lights often burned all night

long, and sometimes people drove up in a taxi and went away again. For

a while the corner gossips speculated idly as to who he might be, but

gradually they lost all interest. When he purchased trifles at the

corner grocery he gave out casually that he was a newspaper man and had

to work all night, and the fact that muffled sounds of hammering and

machinery in motion had been heard at all hours, only helped to make

the explanation more plausible.

To-night, Keralio was perhaps more anxious than at any time to

discourage callers--especially should they happen to be inquisitive

secret service agents. Another few days and he would have nothing more

to fear. The presses would soon have completed their work and $500,000

worth of as fine a $10 counterfeit as ever deceived a bank teller would

be ready for distribution. Half of them had already been run off and,

as he held them up to the light and critically examined the silken

thread that ran here and there through the specially prepared paper and

noted the careful coloring, the beautifully geometrical lathe work and

skilfully traced signatures, he silently congratulated himself. Here

was half a million dollars' worth of splendid currency. Detection was

absolutely impossible. Had not François already succeeded in passing a

lot? After all had been disposed of, he could afford to take a rest.

On the proceeds of this rich haul, he could live like a prince for a

few years in Europe, and when that was all gone, he still had the

diamonds to fall back upon. Glancing at the clock, he wondered why

Handsome did not come. He was anxious to get possession of the

diamonds. It was too soon to attempt doing anything with the stones

now. The hue and cry would be too loud. All the diamond markets would

be watched, if they were not already. He had a suspicion that Parker

and Steell suspected something wrong. François had seen the President

in earnest consultation with the lawyer directly after Handsome had

announced the loss. He had not been able to hear what was said, but

from their manner he inferred that the diamonds were the sole subject

of conversation. They did not question Handsome's identity. That

never entered their heads, but they doubted his story of losing the

stones. They, no doubt, thought he had used the diamonds to make good

Wall Street losses.

He chuckled as he thought how admirably his scheme had worked out. He

had hinted at Kenneth being heavily short in this street, which at once

explained a motive for Kenneth diverting the stones to his own use.

Yes, he had triumphed over them all--except one. Helen Traynor, so

far, had foiled him in everything, and the more she resisted and

insulted him, the more determined he was to drag her at his feet.

Handsome, poor devil, fondly imagined he would inherit the wife as well

as the fortune. How could he guess that he, Keralio, would send a

bogus telegram just in time to dash the cup from his lips.

Impatiently he strode up and down the rooms. Why was Handsome late? A

frown darkened his face. He had better not trifle with him. He must

obey without question or take the consequences. He was in no mood to

be defied.

Suddenly, he started and listened. His alert ear had caught the sound

of approaching footsteps on the stairs outside. A moment later came

three deliberate knocks on the door, a signal which indicated a

friendly visitor. Quickly, Keralio went forward and withdrew the bolt.

François entered, suit case in hand. Hardly before he could take

breath after the long climb, Keralio exclaimed:

"Well, how are they going?"

The Frenchman grinned.

"_À merveille_! Like hot cakes. I've passed all of zem. Good work,

is it not?"

"And the real stuff?" demanded Keralio.

"Is in here."

The valet pointed to the leather case.

Eagerly Keralio seized the portmanteau, and, opening it, emptied the

contents. A perfect shower of greenbacks--genuine ones this time--fell

upon the floor. With shaking hands, like a miser who trembles as he

handles his hoarded gold, Keralio picked up the money by armfuls and,

taking it to a table, proceeded to count it.

"Is it all here?" he demanded suspiciously.

The valet scowled.

"Do you think I'm holding any back on you? _Ma foi, non_!"

Keralio, still counting, fixed his assistant with steely, piercing eyes.

"No, François, I think you know me too well for that. You know I never

forget a service; you also know I never forgive anyone who crosses my

will."

The valet shrugged his shoulders. In an injured tone he asked:

"What's all ze talk about? I work well for you. I do your dirty work,

_n'est ce pas_? I never complain--I am faithful. What more would you

have?"

"Why should you complain? You get your share," rejoined his chief

sternly.

The valet was silent and Keralio went on:

"A few days more and we'll be rid of all the new stuff. Then we'll

take down the presses and carry away the parts, piece by piece. When

we're ready to leave this hole, there won't be a shred of evidence

left. Have you heard any news from our man in Washington? What are

the secret service men doing?"

"Ze alarm is given. Zey have spotted several of ze bills. Half a

dozen of ze cleverest sleuths in ze country have been put on our trail.

Zey will not succeed. Ze scent is cold. We've got zem completely

doped."

Keralio looked anxious.

"Is there any danger of them having shadowed you and followed you here?"

"No--_mon cher, pas le mains du monde_. It took me three hours to come

here from ze Pennsylvania station--such a crazy in and out route I gave

ze chauffeur. If they succeed in following such a labyrinth as that,

they deserve to get us."

Keralio smiled and pointed to a bottle of brandy on the table.

Approvingly, he said:

"Good boy! There, take a drink and a cigar----"

After the valet had refreshed himself, he again confronted his chief.

"What else _à votre service_?"

Keralio pointed carelessly to a seat. In a commanding tone, he said:

"Yes--I have more work for you. Sit down. I will tell you."

The valet took a chair and waited. Keralio looked at him meditatively

for a moment. Then suddenly he asked:

"When did you leave the house?"

"This afternoon at three o'clock."

"When did Mrs. Traynor return from Philadelphia?"

"Yesterday--furious at the hoax played upon her? Miss Dorothy is

perfectly well----"

Keralio smiled.

"Of course. I sent that telegram."

The valet grinned. Admiringly, he exclaimed:

"You are admirable! _Quel homme, mon dieu, quel homme_!"

Paying no heed to the compliment, Keralio went on:

"What did Handsome say?"

"He is puzzled himself and can't understand. Everyone's up in the air.

They think it is a discharged maid who did it for spite."

"The next time Mrs. Traynor receives a sudden message about her baby it

will not be a hoax."

The valet looked up in surprise.

"What do you mean?"

Keralio did not answer the question immediately, but sat nervously

twisting his fingers, a moody sullen look in his pale saturnine face.

At last, breaking the heavy silence, he said:

"That woman insulted me. You saw it. You were there----"

The valet nodded.

"You mean she put you out--ah, _oui_, she has a _diable_ of a temper

when angry."

Keralio nodded.

"Yes--that I can never forgive. She shall ask my pardon on her knees.

I will break her spirit, humiliate her pride. I have been taxing my

brain how to do it. At last I have hit on a plan--one that cannot fail

and you shall help me."

"In what way _s'il vous plait_?"

Bending forward, his black eyes flashing, Keralio said earnestly:

"That woman is devoted to only two beings in this world--her husband

and her baby. Sooner or later, perhaps only in a few days, she will

discover that Handsome is an impostor. He is such a fool that exposure

is inevitable. The blow will almost kill her. Above all, it will

humiliate her pride to know that unwittingly she has allowed that

drunken brute, that poor counterfeit of her husband, to caress and

fondle her. Next in her affections comes her baby. If any danger

threatened the child, she would stop at nothing, she would make any

sacrifice to ward off the danger. I propose to bring about just that

situation----"

The valet half started up from his chair. Hardened and callous as he

was in crime, he was hardly prepared to go to that extreme.

"Death?" he exclaimed, horror stricken, "you would kill ze child?"

"No fool--not kill the child. I'll kidnap it--that's all. We'll bring

the child here and, then I'll write the mother, telling her where it is

and to come to it, but warning her that if she values the child's life,

she must tell no one, and must come here unaccompanied. Once she is

here, I will take care of the rest. Do you understand?"

The valet breathed more freely.

"So you will that I----"

His chief nodded.

"Precisely. You'll take the flyer to Philadelphia. Say you come from

the mother. They'll have no suspicion. Take the child and come here

at once. Understand?"

"_Oui_, monsieur."

Keralio rose. In commanding tones, he said:

"Then go at once."

The valet went to get his hat. As he approached the door Keralio

halted him and said:

"What's Handsome doing--keeping sober?"

"He has to, for I lock up all ze liquor. He lives like a lord, buying

swell clothes, riding in ze automobile. Last night he lost at ze club

$10,000 he had drew from ze bank."

Keralio gave a low whistle.

"The deuce he did! Living high, eh? Well--that's all right. Let him

enjoy it. His gay life won't last long--only just as long as it suits

my purpose."

"Hush! Not a word--here he is!"

From the landing outside came the sound of a heavy body lurching. Then

came the noise of someone groping for the handle, followed by a furious

pounding on the wooden panels.

"Open up there, will you!" shouted a hoarse voice.

"Drunk, as usual!" said Keralio contemptuously.

He suddenly threw the door open and the gambler, burly and unsteady on

his legs, almost fell in. He was in evening dress, his collar and tie

rumpled, his hair unkempt. His face was flushed, his eyes bloodshot.

Reeling in, he hiccoughed:

"What'n h--ll do you live so far up town for? I thought I'd never get

here. Say, this is the end of the world, ain't it? Jumping off place,

eh? Stopped several times on the way to get a drink. My cabby nearly

got lost. Been driving me round for three hours trying to locate the

blooming house. Charged me $5. Hell of a good business, ain't it.

Tain't on the level to treat an old pal that way. Y'oughter be ashamed

o' yourself."

"I'm more ashamed of you--for making such a beast of yourself,"

rejoined Keralio angrily. "Stop your cursed noise or you'll have the

police on top of us!"

Without ceremony, he pushed the newcomer into a seat and made a gesture

to François to go. The valet went toward the door.

"Remember," said Keralio warningly. "There must be no blundering. I

want the child brought here----"

"_Oui_, monsieur--it shall be as you say."

The door closed and Keralio turned quietly to the miner. Sternly, and

in a manner that brooked no nonsense, he demanded:

"Did you bring the diamonds?"

Handsome grinned, and pointed to his waist.

"I've got 'em all right!" With another hiccough, he added: "But

there's no hurry, old sport. Let's have a drink before we get talking

business."

In two rapid strides Keralio was up to him. Fiercely he said:

"Give me the stones--give me them I say. We've no time for your d----d

fooling. Hand them over. Come----"

For a moment the gambler just sat and looked at his master. A giant in

physical strength compared with the slightly built foreigner, he could

have overpowered him as a child might crush an egg-shell, but he lacked

the mentality, the magnetism of the Italian. He was cowed, dominated

by the stronger mind. Grumbling, he began to fumble at his waist:

"I don't see what's the hurry."

"But I see," exclaimed Keralio, his eyes growing larger, as he already

saw the colossal stones glittering in his hand.

The next instant Handsome had slid his hand under his waistcoat and

unbuckled a belt he wore next his shirt. Unfastening a pocket and

taking out the contents, he growled:

"Here they are! I'm glad to get rid of the d----d things."

With a cry of exultant joy Keralio took hold of the stones and, going

to the window, greedily feasted his eyes on them. Report had not

exaggerated the value and extraordinary beauty of the gems. They were

worth more than a million.

"What do I get out of it?" whined the gambler.

Keralio regarded him with contempt. Dryly he said:

"You get out of it that you're not sitting in the electric chair for

murdering your twin brother. You get out of it that you're playing the

rôle of the millionaire, basking in the smiles of your brother's

charming wife, and making a drunken beast of yourself--that's what you

get out of it. Isn't it enough?"

Handsome winced. Keralio had a direct way of saying things to which

there was no answer possible.

"All right," he grumbled, "I'm not kicking."

"No--I wouldn't if I were you."

Changing the topic, Keralio carelessly lit a cigarette and, between the

puffs, asked:

"How's your wife?"

"My wife? You mean his wife?"

Keralio smiled.

"Yours--for the time being."

Handsome scowled.

"It isn't so easy as I thought," he replied. "I don't know if she

suspects something's wrong or not, but ever since that evening she was

called to Philadelphia she avoids me like the pest. I can see in her

face that she's puzzled. 'It's my husband, and yet not my

husband'--that's what she's thinking all the time. I can guess her

thoughts by the expression on her face."

Keralio shrugged his shoulders.

"That's your own fault. I gave you the opportunity. You failed to

profit by it. You got drunk the first night you arrived. Kenneth

Traynor was a temperate man. Is it no wonder you excited wonder and

talk? Then you were stupid under questioning and gave equivocal

answers. Your explanation to Parker about the diamonds was more than

unfortunate; it was idiotic. His suspicions were at once aroused. He

may yet give us trouble before we have time to get rid of the stones.

Finding the wife eluded you, you began to stay out late at night. You

caroused, you drank hard, you gambled--all of which follies your

brother never committed. In other words, you are a fool."

The miner pointed to the diamonds which still lay on the table.

Sulkily he asked:

"Is that all you wanted?"

Keralio put the gems away in his pocket, and pointed to the stacks of

newly printed counterfeit money that lay in stacks all over the floor.

"No, you can help me make up bundles of this stuff."

Handsome opened wide his eyes at sight of the crisp currency. Greedily

he exclaimed:

"Say--that's some money! Ain't they beauties?"

Keralio made an impatient gesture and, taking off his coat, made a

gesture to his companion to do likewise.

"Come--there's no time to talk. We must get rid of it all before

morning. For all I know the detectives may be watching the house now."