CHAPTER XVIII

"This way," whispered Dick, as he darted swiftly from door to door,

"keep close behind me, and stick to the wall, or he'll see you."

But François was so utterly fagged after his long walk from the

Elevated road, carrying his heavy suitcase, that he worried about

nothing save his own discomfort. Unable to find a taxi, he had been

compelled to tramp the entire distance, and the fatigue of it had made

him peevish. He could have saved himself at least a mile if he had

taken a more direct road, but Keralio's orders were explicit. He must

always follow a circuitous route so as to throw possible pursuers off

the scent. There was no disobeying the orders of the chief, so on he

trudged, looking neither to right nor left, up one street, down

another, now crossing an empty lot, now darting through a narrow alley,

through the wastes and dreariness of Bronxville.

As he approached his journey's end, he accelerated his pace, going

along so fast that it was as much as Dick and Steell could do to keep

up with him. The night was dark and foggy, and at times they could not

see him for the mist. But as he came within the glare of each lamp

post, they could make out his lithe figure, scurrying along as if the

devil himself were at his heels.

"Let's get up closer," gasped Dick, who was winded from the long chase.

"I guess their den is in this neighborhood. He'll slip in somewhere

and we'll lose him if we keep so far away."

"No--he may see us," whispered Steell cautiously. "We can make him out

all right."

They increased their pace a little. The valet was less than two blocks

away, and once he actually stopped and looked around as if to see if he

was followed. Quickly Steell and Dick darted under a doorway, and,

seeing nothing to arouse his suspicion, François went on.

The lawyer was taking no chances to-night. It was too good a game to

spoil. That they were on the right trail at last he was morally

certain. Ray's experience had given him the first clue. After that it

was easy. For two days Dick had shadowed the valet, and seen him

changing crisp $10 bills in half a dozen different places. The lawyer

could have had him arrested at once, but he was after bigger game. It

was not enough to arrest François. He was only the tool. They must

get the man higher up, the man who employed him. That man, the lawyer

felt equally confident, was Keralio. He was the master counterfeiter.

The first step to take was to find out where the counterfeiting was

done, where Keralio had his plant, and the only way to do this was to

follow the valet to his master's secret den.

For several days they had shadowed the Frenchman constantly, until

to-night they were rewarded by seeing him start with a suit case in the

direction of the Bronx. They quickly gave chase, the lawyer confident

of results. It was not part of his plan, however, to hurry matters or

do things prematurely. To-night they would merely reconnoiter. They

would content themselves by watching the premises, seeing who came and

went, and trying to obtain a glimpse of the interior. If the evidence

was incriminating enough to make a raid successful, it would always be

time enough to call in the police. Keralio, he was also well

convinced, had something to do with the missing diamonds, and possibly

the present investigation would throw some light on the mystery

surrounding Kenneth himself. He had made no mention of his suspicions

to Helen, but he could not help feeling that in some way, yet to be

discovered, his old comrade had become involved with a band of crooks.

How otherwise explain his acquaintance with Keralio, an utter stranger

of dubious antecedents. How explain the loss of the diamonds? The

explanation Kenneth had given was decidedly fishy. Parker did not

believe a word of it--in fact, frankly expressed, his opinion was that

his vice-president had disposed of the gems. Had he himself not seen

Kenneth driving about the Bronx with Keralio at an impossible hour?

Had not Helen discovered François conversing on intimate terms with his

master? It all looked decidedly bad; only time could unravel it all.

It was a fearful thing to suspect a man of Kenneth's standing, but

everything pointed to his being involved in a vast network of crime.

He was aroused from his reflections by an exclamation of warning from

his companion.

"Quick--there he goes!" whispered Dick.

The valet had suddenly made a sharp turn to the right, and was lost to

view. But quick as he was, Dick was quicker. The young man was a

little ahead of the lawyer, and, putting on a spurt of speed, he

reached the corner just in time to see the Frenchman and suitcase

disappear into a grimy, dilapidated looking tenement at the end of a

blind alley.

"We've run the fox to earth," whispered Steell exultantly.

"Could any melodrama wish for a more appropriate _mise-en-scène_?"

grinned Dick.

"Come opposite, and find out what we can see from the outside."

Crossing the street they took up positions in the shadow of a doorway.

The house which the Frenchman had entered was all dark and apparently

tenantless, except on the top floor where lights could be faintly seen

behind hermetically sealed shutters. Straining his ears, Steell

thought he could hear the steady hum of machinery in motion. With an

exclamation of satisfaction, he turned to his companion:

"We've got 'em, Dick, we've got 'em. Do you hear the presses going?"

The young man listened. The sound was plainly audible, but it was a

muffled sound, as if the walls and windows were padded with mattresses

to prevent any sounds of the operations within from reaching

inquisitive, outside ears.

"Let's go upstairs," whispered Steell.

Recrossing the road, they entered the house and began to grope their

way up the narrow, winding staircase. They could make only slow

progress, not only because of the absence of light, but owing to the

rotten condition of the stairs. Indescribably filthy and littered with

all sorts of rubbish and broken glass, in some places the boards had

broken through entirely, leaving gaping holes, which were so many

dangerous pitfalls. Twice the lawyer came near breaking his neck.

At last they reached the top, both out of breath from the long and

perilous climb.

"Hush--there it is!" whispered Dick pointing at the end of a narrow

hall to a door from underneath which issued a faint glimmer of light.

Cautiously, noiselessly, treading on tiptoe, the lawyer and his

companion crept along the passage until they came to the door. They

listened. There was not a sound. Even the hum of machinery which they

had heard in the street, had ceased. Could the inmates have taken

alarm?

All at once they heard people talking. Instantly, Steell recognized

the voice of Keralio. He was questioning someone, no doubt the valet.

They listened.

"Well, did you carry out my orders?"

"_Oui_, monsieur, ze last of ze ten-dollar bills has been passed. I

have ze money here."

"I did not mean that," broke in Keralio impatiently. "I mean as

regards the child----"

"_Oui_, monsieur. Didn't you receive my telegram. I brought the child

from Philadelphia yesterday evening."

Steell, puzzled, turned to his companion.

"What child are they talking about?" he whispered.

"I have no idea. Some more mischief they're up to, I guess."

Again Keralio's voice was heard asking:

"Where is Handsome to-day? I told him to come. Why isn't he here?"

"He's drinking again, monsieur. When he's drunk you can't do anything

with him. He's getting ugly about ze diamonds."

Steell nudged his fellow eavesdropper.

"Did you hear that?" he whispered. "He spoke of diamonds!"

Keralio was heard bursting into a peal of savage laughter.

"Getting ugly is he? What does he want?"

"He says you promised him half of ze proceeds when ze diamonds were

sold, and that now you are trying to do him out of it---- He says he's

sick of ze whole thing and will squeal to ze police unless you do ze

right thing."

Straining every nerve to hear, Steell glued his ear to the door.

Keralio burst out fiercely:

"Squeal, will he, the dog? I'd like to know what will become of him

when the final reckoning's paid. Will he tell the police that he was a

drunken adventurer in the South African mining camps before his twin

brother, Kenneth Traynor, arrived at Cape Town? Will he tell the

police that he set the steamer afire, murdered his own brother, and,

profiting by the extraordinary resemblance, returned to New York,

passing himself off as the man who went away. No, he won't tell all

that, will he? But I will. Did you bring the money? Let me see it."

The talking suddenly ceased, and was followed by a deep silence.

Steell, staggered at this unexpected revelation, almost stumbled in his

eagerness to hear more. Turning to his companion, he exclaimed in a

horror-stricken whisper:

"My God! Did you hear that? It's even worse than I feared. They've

done away with Kenneth. That man at the house is an impostor!"

"An impostor?" ejaculated Dick. "Impossible. Don't we all know

Kenneth when we see him?"

"Nothing's impossible!" rejoined the lawyer hurriedly. "Kenneth had a

twin brother--the resemblance was so extraordinary as children that no

one knew them apart. The brother disappeared years ago. They thought

him dead. Kenneth must have come across him in South Africa. This

brother killed him and took his place. It's all clear to me now.

We're in a den of assassins!"

Inside the conversation began again.

"Hush! Listen!" whispered Steell.

The voice of Keralio was once more raised in angry tones.

"Didn't I tell you that I wanted the child brought here at once?"

"_Oui_, monsieur, but I could not. I had ze rest of ze money to get

rid of and ze suitcase to carry. I will bring her in a taxi to-morrow."

"Where is she?"

"Safe in the care of the woman who runs my boarding house."

"When did you bring her from Philadelphia?"

"Yesterday afternoon."

"Did you have any trouble?"

"_Non_, monsieur. I didn't even have to go to ze house, although I had

a plausible story all ready. I was going to say that Mrs. Traynor had

sent me to fetch Miss Dorothy because her mother wanted her home for ze

coming marriage of Miss Ray. But it wasn't necessary to lie about it.

I found ze child playing in ze street near the house. I merely told

her her mamma wanted her to come home, gave her some candy, and she

followed me willingly enough."

"By this time the alarm has been given."

"_Sans doute_, monsieur. They probably telegraphed Mrs. Traynor last

night that ze child was missing----"

The voices again stopped. Steell, his face white, and fists clenched,

turned to his companion:

"Good Heavens, Dick, did you hear that? They've kidnapped Mrs.

Traynor's little girl--no doubt, with the idea of demanding ransom.

Thank God, we're in time to frustrate that crime----"

"Hush!" exclaimed his companion. "Listen!"

Keralio proceeded:

"Now you understand what you are to do. You bring the child here

to-morrow morning. Meantime, I have already written in a disguised

hand to Mrs. Traynor telling her that her child is safe--for the

present, and that if she wants to see her she must come here to-morrow

afternoon. I warned her that if she communicated with the police or

informed any of her friends, the child would be put to death before it

would be possible to effect a rescue. That ought to bring her here----"

"Would monsieur go as far as to kill----"

"Why not," demanded Keralio fiercely. "I permit nothing to stand in

the way of my will. That woman can save her child's life, but she must

pay the price I ask. She shall learn what it costs to dismiss me from

her house----"

The valet was heard to chuckle as he said:

"I don't love her any too much myself. She discharged me from her

employ the other day so haughtily I felt like a whipped cur."

Again there was silence, followed by a muffled hammering.

"They're taking the printing press apart," whispered Dick, who through

the keyhole, had managed to get a glimpse of machinery. "If we don't

act quickly, they'll get away with all the evidence. Hadn't we better

go and call the police?"

For answer, the lawyer put his fingers to his lips with a warning

gesture, and beckoning the young man to follow, retraced his steps on

tiptoe along the narrow, dark hall and down the filthy, winding

staircase. Not a word was spoken by either man until they reached the

street. Once in the open air, the lawyer turned and said:

"Dick, we've uncovered as black a plot as was ever hatched in hell. If

we don't queer the game and put them all in the chair it won't be my

fault. We can't bring poor Kenneth back to life, but we can and will

revenge his cowardly murder. It will be a positive joy to me to see

that arch-scoundrel Keralio electrocuted."

"What do you propose to do?" asked his companion. "Hadn't we better

call Mrs. Traynor on the telephone and warn her before it's too late?"

The lawyer was silent for a few moments. Then meditatively, he said:

"No, that would be a mistake. No doubt, by this time, she has received

Keralio's anonymous letter. She is probably frantic with anxiety over

the news of her child's disappearance, and will respond eagerly to any

clue that promises to take her to her child. If we warned her she

would pay no heed. She might pretend to, but only to pacify us.

Afraid that punishment might be visited on the child, she would obey

the warning not to talk, and she will come here to Keralio's flat

to-morrow at the time the letter stated. Of course, she has no idea

Keralio wrote the letter. But even if she had, it would make no

difference. I know her. She would run any risk to save her child."

"I think you're right," replied Dick, "but how, then, will you help

her? There is no knowing what Keralio's object is in enticing her

here--you can be sure it's nothing good."

"Precisely--that's why we, too, must be on hand, together with a strong

force of detectives. We'll get them all. There will be no possible

escape. We'll surround the house with men. They'll be caught like

rats in a trap."

The lawyer turned to go.

"Where are you bound now?" asked Dick.

"To police headquarters!"