CHAPTER IX

The string orchestra, adroitly concealed behind a bank of graceful

exotic plants, struck up a languorous waltz, and the couples, only too

eager to respond to the invitation, began to turn and glide over the

polished parquet floor.

Not since its master's departure for South Africa had the Traynor

residence been the scene of so much life and gayety. Every window

literally blazed with light. From the front door at the top of the

high stoop down to the edge of the street curb, stretched a canvas

awning to protect arriving guests from the inclemency of the weather.

It was a stormy night. The rain was falling in torrents, but no one

cared. Everybody was out for a good time and they knew that this was

the house to get it.

Helen's first impulse had been to postpone the affair, held really in

celebration of Ray's birthday, until Kenneth's return, but as this idea

had met with decided opposition from the younger element, she had

reluctantly given way. Besides, there was no knowing when Kenneth

would return. Nothing as yet had been heard from him excepting a brief

cablegram announcing his safe arrival at Cape Town, and it was

manifestly unfair to let her own inclinations stand in the way of the

happiness of others. So, after due reflection, she had surrendered

completely, giving Ray _carte blanche_ to make what arrangements she

chose. That young person did not stand on the order of going. She

acted at once and sent out invitations to what proved to be one of the

biggest _soirées dansantes_ of the season. Everything was done on a

most liberal scale. The house was decorated by Herly, three

picturesque fiddlers were obtained from an agency, and Mazzoni, who

provides delicacies for the "400," had charge of the catering.

Everybody who was anybody was invited, all Ray's personal friends

besides a lot of people she did not know so well. A number of Helen's

intimates were there and also some men friends of Mr. Steell and Dick

Reynolds. The girls in their light gowns looked pretty as angels. The

men were handsome, attentive and gallant. Altogether, everyone voted

it one of the most enjoyable social affairs of the year.

Ray had danced her sixth waltz and at last utterly exhausted, unable to

stand any more, she allowed Dick Reynolds to escort her to a sofa.

"Please get me an ice, will you? That's a dear boy," she gasped.

"Will I!" echoed the youth. "What wouldn't I do for you--fire and

water--that's all!"

"As bad as that?" laughed the girl panting. "Please don't be silly.

Go and get me an ice."

Obediently, he left her and forced his way through the throng to the

buffet, while Ray, left alone, started to fan herself vigorously. As

she sat there Helen passed on the arm of Mr. Parker. The President

stopped short and quizzed the young girl.

"You here?" ejaculated the old gentleman in mock amazement. "Why

aren't you dancing? This will never do."

Helen smiled.

"I expect she's tired out. This is the first time I've seen her sit

down all evening."

Ray nodded.

"You've guessed right, sis. I'm nearly dead. I sent Dick for an ice."

"Did you ever see such a crowd?" remarked the president of the A. A. M.

Company as he surveyed the throng that passed in and out of the rooms.

"Oh, Mrs. Traynor we're having such a jolly time," exclaimed a tall

graceful girl, gracefully dressed in light blue empire gown with

Grecian head dress.

"I'm so glad, dear," smiled the hostess amiably. Turning to Mr. Parker

as the girl passed on she asked: "Do you know who that is?"

He shook his head.

"She's the granddaughter of John R. Rockerford, the money king. Fancy

her saying this is jolly after the grandeur she is accustomed to!"

"No doubt she likes this better," retorted Ray. "Those very rich

people don't do things any better than we--sometimes not so well.

Their parties are too stiff and formal."

Suddenly Mr. Parker nudged his hostess.

"Here comes Mrs. Brewster-Curtis," he said in a stage whisper. "They

say her husband's worth ten millions--all made from graft."

A handsome woman, blazing with diamonds, came up. Addressing Helen,

she exclaimed gushingly:

"Oh, Mrs. Traynor, isn't this perfectly delightful? How do you do, Mr.

Parker. Do you know I haven't enjoyed myself so much this season.

What's the news from your dear husband?"

"No news as yet."

"Dear me--you poor thing! How interesting--so pretty and husband away.

What an opportunity for some of our gay Lotharios!"

"They wouldn't have much chance with Helen!" laughed Ray.

Mrs. Brewster-Curtis turned, and putting up her gold lorgnon, stared at

the unknown young woman who had been so bold to venture to express an

opinion. Ray, meantime, was wondering what detained Dick. Here she

was famishing with thirst and still no ice. Her partner had

disappeared completely.

Addressing her hostess Mrs. Brewster said languidly:

"Your niece, I believe."

"No--my sister," corrected Helen with a smile. It was a mistake often

made.

"Of course--of course, how silly of me. I might have known that. You

look enough alike."

"Do you think so?" interrupted Ray hotly. "Helen is far prettier than

I."

"You are no judge, my dear. You must let the men decide that."

"They do," said Ray, "and they all declare in favor of Helen."

"Not by the way Mr. Steell dodges [Transcriber's note: dogs?] your

footsteps." Looking up she exclaimed: "There he is now."

"Oh, Mr. Steell," cried Helen, "don't forget our next waltz."

His face all smiles, the lawyer forced his way through the press of

people.

"Have you seen Dick?" asked Ray. "I sent him to get me an ice."

Mr. Steell laughed outright.

"Oh, it was you who sent him. If I had known----"

"Why?" demanded Ray, opening wide her eyes. "Where is he? I want my

ice."

"I'll get you an ice, dear," said Helen.

"No, let me go," exclaimed Mr. Parker.

"No--no one will get the ice but myself," said Mr. Steell. "It's my

fault that the ice is not already forthcoming. It is only just that I

suffer accordingly."

Mr. Parker laughed.

"The ice episode threatens to become a diplomatic incident."

"Why--whatever is the matter?" smiled Helen.

The lawyer was so much amused that he could hardly keep his face

straight. With an effort he controlled himself, and said:

"Just now I was talking with a pretty girl and Dick suddenly forced his

way through the crowd, going in the direction of the buffet. I had no

idea on what a serious mission he was bound, of course, and so I called

him to introduce him to the pretty girl, who had with her an aunt, a

veritable witch, as hideous as a Medusa, and who, in addition, is

afflicted with a wooden leg. Dick gave the aunt only a glance. That

was enough, but he was all smiles for her pretty niece, who, I must

admit, is somewhat of a flirt. Anyhow she rolled her eyes so

eloquently at him that he forgot all about the important errand on

which he was bound. Just at that moment the musicians struck up a

_schottische_, and, on the spur of the moment, he asked the pretty girl

to dance. She declined, with an arch smile, but, pointing to the old

witch, said her aunt would be delighted. Poor Dick! There was no help

for it. The Medusa got up, seized him in her claws, and, the last

thing I saw of the poor youth, they were doing a sort of Bunny Hug, the

wooden leg of his lady partner marking time on the waxed floor."

"Please stop! If you go on--I shall expire."

Ray was nearly in convulsions of laughter in which all joined. When

Helen had somewhat regained her composure, she said:

"I think it's unkind to make fun of the poor woman. Who is she?"

"I haven't the least idea. Perhaps Dick will tell us."

At that moment the youth emerged from the throng and came towards them,

his linen mussed, his hair dishevelled. But in one hand he held grimly

a plate of ice cream. Looking shamelessly at Ray, he smiled:

"I've got it--at last."

"Where have you been all this time?" she demanded innocently.

"Oh, I've been having no end of a good time!"

Steell burst out laughing.

"Did she ask you to call, Dick?"

"If she had I'd have killed her."

"How did the artificial leg work?"

"She jammed it on my foot once. How it did hurt!"

Ray, by this time, was almost in hysterics, and Helen and the others,

catching the contagion, the whole group were soon shaken by

uncontrollable laughter.

The orchestra struck up a quadrille. A man came rushing up to Ray.

"My dance, I believe."

With a comical expression of resignation, the young girl allowed

herself to be led away, while Helen and Mrs. Brewster-Curtis took seats

to watch the figures.

"Come, Dick," said Steell in an undertone. "Let's go and smoke a

cigar."

Leading the way he went into the smoking-room, where cigars and liquors

were laid out. Turning to the youth, he inquired eagerly:

"Well--what about the Signor? What have you found out?"

Dick lit a cigarette and then calmly he said:

"Everything."

"What--to be specific."

"He's all and more than we expected."

"In other words--a crook?"

"Yes, and a dangerous one."

"What's his game?"

"Confidence man, bank robber, blackmailer."

"How did you find out?"

"Very easily. I found his record. The police haven't disturbed him

because his clever disguise has deceived them. They have not

recognized in the polished, suave Signor Keralio, the popular fencing

master, the man they have been hunting for years. His real name is

Richard Barton. His pals call him Baron Rapp. Five years ago he was

convicted of robbing a bank out West and was sent up for ten years. He

served a year in Joliet and then broke jail and he has been at liberty

ever since."

"Good!" exclaimed the lawyer, rubbing his hands with satisfaction.

"We've got him where we want him. What else?"

"He has managed to elude the police so far owing to the fact that he

has not been operating of late, but from what I've been able to ferret

out, he is preparing some big haul. Everything points that way. I

don't know what it is, but it's the biggest thing in which he has yet

been mixed up. He's affiliated with crooks who operate all over the

country. Some of his men are disguised as servants and valets in rich

houses. They spy on their masters and tell him if there is anything

worth robbing. He is the master-mind that schemes the operations that

others carry out. He tells his men what banks and homes to break into

and instructs them how to do it. He receives all the stolen property.

At this very moment his flat in the Bronx is full of stolen loot. I

also suspect him of being engaged in counterfeiting."

The lawyer was lost in admiration.

"Dick, you're a wonder!"

The young man grinned with pride.

"Well--what's it to be--shall we tip off the police?"

"Not by a long shot. We'll have the gun loaded--all ready for use. If

the Signor gets ugly we'll shoot--that's all. Not a word, do you hear.

Leave everything to me. Come, let's go back or they'll think

something's wrong."

In the ballroom, they were still dancing the quadrille, the pretty

gowns of the girls and black coats of the men making a picturesque

sight as they blended in the ever changing figures.

The gayety was at its height when the maid entered and whispered in her

ear:

"There's a gentleman downstairs."

Helen looked at the girl in surprise.

"A gentleman? What's his name?"

"I don't know, m'm. He wouldn't say."

"Very well, I'll go down."

Slipping away unobserved, Helen made her way downstairs and throwing

back the heavy tapestry portières entered the drawing room which was

almost in complete darkness. The maid had forgotten to switch on the

electrolier and as the only light came from the distant dining-room,

the big parlor was practically all in gloom. Before her eyes had

become quite accustomed to the dark, a man advanced out of the shadow.

It was Signor Keralio.

She recognized him instantly and instinctively she shrank back,

alarmed. How had he dared come again to her house after what had

occurred? He noticed the movement and asked:

"I see that I'm unwelcome. Do I frighten you so much?"

Coldly she answered:

"You do not frighten me. You surprise me. I did not expect this

pleasure after what passed between us the last time you were here."

Making a half turn, as if about to leave the room, she added quickly:

"I have company upstairs. You must excuse me."

She walked away and had almost reached the door, when, with a quick

stride, he intercepted her.

"Please don't go. I am here in your own interest. I want to talk to

you--just a moment, about----"

She hesitated.

"About what?" she demanded haughtily.

"About your husband."

"My husband?" she echoed, turning and facing him.

"Yes--your husband. He is in danger. I want to help you and--him."

"Kenneth in danger?" she faltered. "What do you mean?"

He pointed to a chair.

"Won't you sit down. I won't keep you a moment. I will tell you

everything----"

She sat down like one in a dream. Taking a seat near her, he began in

his low, musical tones.

"Peril threatens your husband. It is known that he has gone to South

Africa to bring home diamonds of almost inestimable value. A number of

desperate men, who stop at nothing to accomplish their ends, have taken

steps to secure the diamonds at any cost--even at the price of a human

life."

A chill ran through her, but her voice was firm as she demanded

scornfully:

"You know these men--these murderers?"

"Yes--I know them."

Instantly came the bitter retort:

"Maybe you are one of them!"

His eyes flashed in the darkness and his voice vibrated with passion as

he answered:

"I know you think ill of me. You do me an injustice. I have no share

in these men's operations, but I have great power over them. They must

obey my command. They know that and so respect my orders. A word from

me and your husband will be unmolested."

Like the drowning man who in his agony will grasp eagerly at a floating

straw, Helen seized at the hope his words held out. That Kenneth was

in peril she readily believed. It was a dangerous mission. She had

scented danger from the outset. This man might be lying, and yet he

might have the influence he boasted.

"You can avert the danger?"

He nodded.

"I can."

"How?"

"I will give orders that he be unmolested."

"And they will obey you?"

"They will."

Her face brightened. More amiably she said:

"You'll do this, won't you?"

"Yes--for a price."

"What price?"

"That you recall what you said the other day and restore me to a place

in your friendship."

There was no mistaking his true meaning. It was a price no

self-respecting woman could pay. She rose indignantly, and haughtily

she said:

"You have never had a place in my friendship, Signor Keralio, and you

never will. I see through your motive and I despise you now all the

more. My husband, who is an honorable man, would be the first to have

done with me forever if I entered into any such bargain. He has

mistaken your character. When he returns I will enlighten him, and he

will tell you himself that his wife has no dealings with a scoundrel.

As for your threats, and tale of mysterious danger, I don't believe a

word you say. But I may think it worth while to cable my husband in

order to put him on his guard and to inform the police. Good night!"

Before he could stop her, she had touched an electric bell and left the

room. The next instant Roberts, the butler, appeared and threw open

the front door. There was nothing to do but go.

She had defied him.