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THE MILLION




DOLLAR MYSTERY
Novelized from the Scenario of
F . L O N E R G A N
BY
HAROLD 1\/Ll}C GRATH
‘ AUTHOR OF
THE MAN ON THE BOX,
THE GOOSE GIRL, HEARTS AND MASKS, ET-C.
PROFUSELY ILLUSTRATED
WITH SCENES FROM THE PHOTO PLAY
fifé
"74$
GROSSET & DUNLAP
PUBLISHERS : NEW YORK


"is; NEW Ycaa


PUBLIC LIBRARY
26275—3
Aaan. LM A“
1;..1 PGUNDA'X-IE-
l 1822 L
COPYRIGHT, 1915
LAOLD MAC GRATH


Published by arrangement with
The Hobbs-Merrill Company.


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THE PAPER sin-z HAD PURLOINED WAS INDEED BLANK
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LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
V
7 7
no) I
The paper she had purloined was indeed blank
Frontispiece.
Miss Farlow's Private School. . . . . . . . . . . . ..... Z
You might have marked him for a successful lawyer. . .
The Princess Perigoff ........................ '8
-The Black Hundred ......................... 12
Friends from Tophet ......................... l3
The Peaceful Butler entered into the field of action. . . . 32
She had gained the confidence of Florence ........... 33
There was a stormy scene between Braine and the
Princess ............................... 35
Norton reached the Captain first ................. 39
She read with Susan .......................... 55
"Who is it?" Jones whispered, his lips white and dry. . . 58


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
He read: uFlorence-—the hiding place is discovered". . 67
That night there was a meeting of the organization. . . . 69
Jones engaged a motorboat ..................... 74
"Leo, are you using any drugs these days?" ........ 76
The Secret Panel ............................ 86
Four men were told off ........................ 91
“Better be sensible," he said .................... 100
They had become secretly engaged ............... l04
With her he was happyI for he had no time to plan
over the future .......................... 106
They were to be married ....................... l07
Florence was permitted to wander about the ship as she
pleased ............................... l27
Every one felt extremely sorry for this beautiful girl. . . . l28
Florence steals out in the night to jump overboard ..... 129
A young and beautiful woman did not jump from a big
Atlantic liner without the newspapers getting hold of
the facts .............................. I32
VI


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
“The poor young thing!" murmured the motherly Mrs.
Barnes ............................... 133
“Come out 0’ that now!” ..................... I38
“I ain't goin’ t' hurt ye” ....................... I39
Florence fought; but she was weak, and so the conquest
was easy .............................. l 4|
“1 know it now," she said, and she kissed him ........ 143
He had put Florence and Braine in the boat and had
landed them ............................ I43
They bound Florence and left her seated in a chair. . . . 155
They did not care a snap of the finger what Jones thought I 77
She first thought of changing the clock ......... I ..... l 79
He took her straight to the executive chamber of the
Black Hundred ......................... l8l
Here was an operation that needed all his care and skill. 185
He examined the blotter with care ................ 186
The men rioted about the house, searching nooks and
corners ............................... l 94


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
They were mapping out a plan when Susan's message
came ................................. 202
Norton was idling at his desk when the city editor called
him .................................. ZZZ
“Give this to your father. He knows how to read it.". . Z48
Florence discovers the cave ..................... 249
Florence steals the papers from Braine's pocket ...... 250
Braine procured a launch and began to prowl about. . . . 252
Braine reached the girl and pulled her into the boat. . . . 252
F rom the shore came another boat ................ 254
“They have all three taken out naturalization papers”. . 266
“Just a minute, gentlemen!” .................... 277
The Police Captain’s desk ...................... 278
They were tumbling through the library and the living
Braine sank inertly to the floor, dead .............. 286
VIII


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
Instantly they sought the fallen man’s side .......... 289
A quick clutch and the policeman had her by the wrist. 294
The Mystic Million .......................... Z96
“Florence, that is all yours." .................... 297
Immediately after the ceremony .................. 298
After the storm, the sunshine ........... . . . . . 298





THE MILLION DOLLAR
MYSTERY_


' "“ "’


The
'Million Dollar Mystery
CHAPTER I
HERE are few things darker than a country road
at night, particularly if one does not know the lay
of the land. It is not difficult to traverse a known path;
no matter how dark it is, one is able to find the way by
the aid of a mental photograph taken in the daytime.
But supposing you have never been over the road in the
daytime, that you know nothing whatever of its topog-
raphy, where it dips or rises, where it narrows or forks.
You find yourself in the same unhappy state of mind as
a blind man suddenly thrust into a strange house.
One black night, along a certain country road in the
heart of New Jersey, in the days when the only good
roads were city thoroughfares and country highways ‘
'were routes to limbo, a carriage went forward cautiously?
,From time to time it careened like a blunt-nosed barge in
a beam sea. The wheels and springs voiced their anguish
continually; for it was a good carriage, unaccustomed to
such ruts and hummocks.
“Faster, faster!” came a muflled voice from the in-
terior.
1


2 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
“Sir, I dare not drive any faster,” replied the coach-
man. “I can’t see the horses’ heads, sir, let alone the
road. I’ve blown out the lamps, but I can’t see the road
any better for that.”
, ‘Let the horses have their heads; they’ll find the way.
It can’t be much farther. You’ll see lights.”
The coachman swore in his teeth. All right. This
man who was in such a hurry would probably send them
all into the ditch. Save for the few stars above, he
might have been driving Beelzebub’s coach in the bottom-
less pit. Black velvet, everywhere black velvet. A wind
was blowing, and yet the blackness was so thick that it
gave the coachman the sensation of mild suffocation.
By and by, through the trees, he saw a flicker of light.
It might or might not be the destination. He cracked his
whip recklessly and the carriage lurched on two wheels.
The man in the carriage balanced himself carefully, so
that the bundle in his arms should not be unduly dis-
turbed. His arms ached. He stuck his head out of the
window.
“That’s the place,” he said. “And when you drive up
make as little noise as you can.”
“Yes, sir,” called down the driver.
s When the carriage drew up at its journey’s end the
man inside jumped out and hastened toward the gates.
He scrutinized the sign on one of the posts. This Was
the place:
MISS FARLOW’S PRIVATE SCHOOL
[The bundle in his arms stirred and he hurried up the
path to the door of the house. He seized the ancient
knocker and struck several times. He then placed the


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\- ~' unto“



MISS FARLOW’S PRIVATE SCHOOL





THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 3
bundle on the steps and ran back to the waiting carriage,
into which~he stepped.
“Off with you!”
“That’s a good word, sir. Maybe we can make your
train.”
“Do you think you could find this place again?”
“You couldn’t get me on this pike again, sir, for a thou-
sand; not me !”
The door slammed and the unknown sank back against
the cushions. He took out his handkerchief and wiped
the damp perspiration from his forehead. The big bur-
den was off his mind. Whatever happened in the future,
they would never be able to get'him through his heart.
So much for the folly of his youth.
/It was a quarter after ten. Miss Susan Farlow had
just returned to the reception room from her nightly
tour of the upper halls to see if all her charges were in
bed, where the rules of the school confined them after
nine-thirty. It was at this moment that she heard the
thunderous knocking at the door. The old maid felt her
heart stop beating for a moment. Who could it be, at
this time of night? Then the thought came swiftly that
perhaps the parent of some one of her charges was ill
and this was the summons. Stilling her fears, she went
resolutely to the door and opened it.
“Who is it ?” she called.
I No one answered. She cupped her hand to her ear.
She could hear the clatter of horses dimly. 5
“Well !” she exclaimed; rather angrily, too.
She was in the act of closing the door when the light
from the hall discovered to her the bundle on the steps.
She stooped and touched it.
“Good heavens, it’s a child!”


4 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
She picked the bundle up. A whimper came from it, a
tired little whimper of protest. She ran'back to the re-
ception room. A foundling! And on her doorstep! It
was incredible. What in the world should she do? It
would create a scandal and hurt the prestige of the
school. Some one had mistaken her select private school
'for a farmhouse. It was frightful.
' Then she unwrapped the child. It was about a year
old, dimpled and golden haired. A thumb was in its
rosebud mouth and its blue eyes looked up trustfully into
her own.
“Why, you cherub cried the old maid, a strange
turmoil in her heart. She caught the child to her breast,
and then for the first time noticed the thick envelope
pinned to the child’s cloak. She put the baby into a chair
and broke open the envelope.
“Name this child Florence Gray. I will send annually
a liberal sum for her support and reclaim her on her _
eighteenth birthday. The other half of the inclosed '
bracelet will identify me. Treat the girl well, for I shall
watch over her in secret.”
/ Into the fixed routine of her humdrum life had come
a myétery, a tantalizing, fascinating mystery. She had
read of foundlings left on doorsteps;from paper-covered
novels confiscated from her pupils—but that one should
be placed upon her own respectable doorstep! / Suddenly
she smiled down at' the child and the child smiled back.l
And there was nothing more to be done except to bow
before the decrees of fate..;i_’.ike all prim old maids, her
heart was full of unrequited romance, and here was
something she might spend its floods upon without let or
hindrance. Already she was hoping that the man or
woman who had left it might never come back.
i,
l


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 5
The child grew. Regularly each year, upon a certain
date, Miss F arlow- received a registered letter with
money. ,These letters came from all parts of the world;
always the same sum, always the same .line—“I am
watching.” '
Thus seventeen years passed; and to Susan Farlow
. each year seemed shorter than the one before. For she
loved the child with all her heart. She had not trained
young girls all these years without becoming adept in
the art of reading the true signs of breeding. There was
no ordinary blood in Florence; the fact was emphasized
by her exquisite face, her small hands and feet, her spirit
and gentleness. And now, at any day, some one with
a broken bracelet might come for her. As the days went
on the heart of Susan Farlow grew heavy. '
“Never mind, aunty,” said Florence; “I shall always
come back to see you.”
She meant it, poor child; but how was she to know the
terrors which lay b'eyond‘the horizon! ,
The house of Stanley Hargreave, in Riverdale, was
the house of no ordinary rich man. Outside it was simple
enough, but within you learned what kind of a man Har-
greave was. There were rare Ispahans and Saruks on
the floors and tapestries on the walls, and here and there
a fine painting. The library itself represented a fortune.
Money had been laid out lavishly but never “tastefully.
- It was the home of a scholar, a dreamer, a wide traveler.
In the library stood the master of the house, idly fin-
gering some papers‘which lay on the study table. He
shrugged at some unpleasant thought, settled his overcoat
, about his shoulders, took up his hat, and walked from the


6 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
room, frowning slightly. The butler, who also acted in
the capacity of valet and was always within call when his
master was about, stepped swiftly to the hall door and
opened it.
“I may be out late, Jones," said Hargreave.
“Yes, sir.”
Hargreave stared into his face keenly, as if trying to
pierce the grave face to learn what was going on behind it.
“How long have you been with me?”
“Fourteen years, sir.”
“Some day I shall need you.”
“My life has always been at your disposal, sir, since
that night you rescued me.”
“Well, I haven’t the least doubt that when I ask you
will give.”
“Without question, sir. It was always so understood.”
Hargreave’s glance sought the mirror, then the smile-
less face of his man. He laughed, but the sound con-
veyed no sense of mirth; then he turned and went down
the steps slowly, like a man burdened with some thought
which was not altogether to his liking. He had sent an
order for his car, but had immediately countermanded it.
He would walk till he grew tired, hail a taxicab, and take
a run up and down Broadway. The wonderful illumina-
tion might prove diverting. For eighteen years nearly;
and now it was as natural for him to throw a glance over
his shoulder whenever he left the house as it was for
him to breathe. The average man would have grown
careless during all these years; but Hargreave was not
an average man; he was, rather, an extraordinary indi—
vidual. It was his life in exchange for eternal vigilance,
and he knew and accepted the fact.
Half an hour later he got into a taxicab and directed
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gas. '1'?“ 117 'r .


YOU MIGHT HAVE MARKED HIM FOR A SUCCESSFUL LAWYER





THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 7
the man to drive down-town as far as Twenty-third Street
and back to Columbus circle. The bewildering display
of lights, however, in nowise served to lift the sense of
oppression that had weighed upon him all day. South of
Forty-second Street he dismissed the taxicab and stared
undecidedly at the brilliant sign of a famous restaurant.
'He was neither hungry nor thirsty; but there would be
strange faces to study and music.
It was an odd whim. He had not entered a Broadway
restaurant in all these years. He was unknown. He
belonged to no clubs. Two months was the longest time
he had ever remained in New York since the disposal of
his old home in Madison Avenue and his resignation from
his clubs. This once, then, he would break. the law he
had written down for himself. Boldly he entered the
restaurant.
Some time before Hargreave surrendered to the rest-
less spirit of rebellion, bitterly to repent for it later, there
came into this restaurant a man and a woman. They
were both evidently well known, for the head waiter was
obsequious and hurried them over to the best table he
had left and took the order himself.
The man possessed a keen, intelligent face. You might
have marked him for a successful lawyer, for there was
an earnestness about his expression which precluded a
life of idleness. His age might have been anywhere
between forty and fifty. The shoulders were broad and
the hands which lay clasped upon the table were slim but
muscular. Indeed, everything about him suggested hid-
den strength and vitality. His companion was small,
a handsome, and animated. Her frequent gestures and
mutable eyebrows betrayed her foreign birth. Her age
was a matter of importance to no one but herself.


8 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
They were at cofiee when she said: “There’s a young
man coming toward us. He is looking at you.”
The man turned. Instantly his face lighted up with a
friendly smile of recognition.
“Who is it P” she asked.
“A chap worth knowing; a reporter just a little out
of the ordinary. I’m going to introduce him. Youl
never can tell. We might need him some day. Ah,
Norton, how are you ?”
“Good evening, Mr. Braine.” The reporter, catching
sight of a pair of dazzling eyes, hesitated.
“The Countess Perigotf, Norton. You’re in no hurry,
are you?”
“Not now,’ smiled the reporter.
“Ah!” said the countess, interested. It was the old
compliment, said in an unusual way. It pleased her.
The reporter sank into a chair. When inactive he was
rather a dreamy-eyed sort of chap. He possessed that
rare accomplishment of talking upon one subject and
thinking upon another at the same time. So while he
talked gaily/with the young woman on varied themes,
his thoughts were busy speculating upon her companion.
He was quite certain that the name Braine was assumed,
but he was also equally certain that the man carried an
extraordinary brain under his thatch of salt and pepper
hair. The man had written three or four brilliant mono-
graphs on poisons and the uses of radium, and it was
through and by these that the reporter had managed to
pick up his acquaintance. He lived well, but inconspicu-
ously.
Suddenly the pupils of Braine’s eyes narrowed; the
eye became cold. Over the smoke of his cigarette he was
looking intc the wall mirror. A man had passed behind
!


u\


RINCCS S PERIGOFF
THE P
s"





THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 9
him and sat down at the next table. Still gazing into
the mirror, Braine saw Norton wave his hand; saw also
the open wonder on the reporter’s pleasant face.
“Who is your friend, Norton ?" Braine asked indif-
ferently, his head still unturned.
“Stanley Hargreave. Met him in Hongkong when I
was sent over to handle a part of the revolution. War
correspondence stuff. First time I ever ran across him
on Broadway at night. We've since had some powwows
over some rare books. Queer old cock; brave as a lion,
but as quiet as a mouse.”
“Bookish, eh? My kind. Bring him over.” Under-
neath the table Braine maneuvered to touch the foot of
the countess.
“I don’t know,” said the reporter dubiously. “He
might say no, and that would embarrass the whole lot
of us. He’s a bit of a hermit. I’m surprised to see him
here.”
“Try,” urged the countess. “I like to meet men who
are hermits.”
“I haven’t the least doubt about that,” the reporter
laughed. “I’ll try; but don’t blame me if I’m rebuffed.”
He left the table with evident reluctance and ap-
proached Hargreave. The two shook hands cordially,
for the elder man was rather fond of this medley of
information known as Jim Norton.
“Sit down, boy; sit down. You’re just the kind of a
man I’ve been wanting to talk to to-night.”
“Wouldn’t you rather talk to a pretty woman?”
“I’m an old man.”
“Bah! That’s a hypocritical bluff, and you know it.
My friends at the next table have asked me to bring you
over.”


10 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
“I do not usually care to meet strangers.”
“Make an exception this once,” said the reporter, who
had seen Braine’s eyes change and was curious to know
why the appearance of Hargreave in the mirror had
brought about that metally gleam. Here were two
unique men; he desired to see them face to face.
“This once. My fault; I ought not to be here; I feel‘
out of place. What a life, though, you reporters lead!
To meet kings and presidents and great financiers, so-
cialists and anarchists, the whole scale of life, and to
slap these people on the back as if they were every-day
friends !”
“Now you’re making fun of me. For one king there
are always twenty thick brogans ready to kick me down
the steps; don’t forget that.”
Hargreave laughed. “Come, then; let us get it over
with.” .
The introductions were made. Norton felt rather
chagrined. As far as he could see, the two men were
total strangers. Well, it was all in the game. Nine out
of ten opportunities for the big story were fake alarms;
but he was always willing to risk the labor these nine
entailed for the sake of the tenth.
At length Braine glanced at his watch, and the countess
nodded. Adieux were said. Inside the taxicab Braine
leaned back with a deep, audible sigh.
“What is it ?” she asked.
“The luck of the devil’s own,” he said. “Child of the
Steppes, for years I’ve flown about seas and continents,
through valleys and over mountains—for what? For the
sight of the face of that man we have just left. At first
glance I wasn’t sure; but the sound of his voice was
enough. Olga, the next time you see that reporter,
\


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 11
throw your arms around his neck and kiss him. What ,
did I tell you? Without Norton’s help I would not have"
been sure. I’m going to leave you at your apartment.”
“The man of the Black Hundred?” she whispered. _
)T he man who deserted and defied the Black Hun-
dred, who broke his vows, and never paid a kopeck for
lithe privilege; the man who had been appointed for the
supreme work and who ran away. In those days we
needed men of his stamp, and to accomplish this
end. . . .”
“There was a woman,” she interrupted, with a touch
of bitterness.
“Always the woman. And she was as clever and
handsome as you are.”
“Thanks. Sometimes . . .
“Ah, yes l” ironically. “Sometimes you wish you could
’ settle down, marry and have a family! ’Your domesticity
would last about a month.”
She made no retort because she recognized the truth
of this statement.
“There’s an emerald I know of,” he said ruminatively.
“It’s quite possible that you may be wearing it within a
few days.”
“I am mad over them. There is something in the
green stone that fascinates me. I can’t resist it.”
“That’s because, somewhere in the far past, your an-
cestors were orientals. Here we are. I’ll see you to-
morrow. I must hurry. Good night.”
She stood on the curb for a moment and watched the
taxicab as it whirled around a corner. The man held
her with a fascination more terrible than any jewel.
She knew him to be a great and daring rogue, cunning,
patient, fearless; Packed away in that mind of his there
’9


12 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
were a thousand accomplished deeds which had roused
futilely the police of two continents. Braine! She could
have laughed. The very name he had chosen was an
insolence directed at society.
The subject of her thoughts soon arrived at his des-
tination. A flight of stairs carried him into a dimly
lighted hall, smelling evilly of escaping gas. He donned (
a black mask and struck the door with a series of light
blows; two, then one, then three, and again one. The
door opened and he slipped inside. Round a table sat
several men, also masked. They were all tried and
trusted rogues; but not one of them knew what Braine
looked like. He alone remained unknown save to the
man designated as the chief, who was only Braine’s
lieutenant. The mask was the insignia of the Black
Hundred, an organization with all the ramifications of
the Camorra without their abiding stupidity. From the
assassination of a king, down to the robbery of a country
post-office, nothing was too great or too small for their
nets. Their god dwells in the hearts of all men and is
called greed.
The ordinary business over, the chief dismissed the
men, and he and Braine alone remained.
“Vroon, I have found him,” said Braine.
“There are but few: which one P”
“Eighteen years ago, in St. Petersburg.”
“I remember. The millionaire’s son. Did he recog_
nize you P"
“I don’t know. Probably he did. But he always had
good nerves. He is being followed at this moment. We
shall strike quick; for if he recognized me he will act
quick. He is cool and brave. You remember how he
braved us that night in Russia. Jumped boldly through


{qt-"-—'—W1
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.'


THE BLACK HUNDRED





THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 13
the window at the risk of breaking his neck. He landed
safely; that is the only reason he eluded us. Millions—
and they slipped through our fingers. If I could only
find some route to his heart! The lure we held out to
him is dead.”
“Or in the fortress, which is the same thing. What
are your plans?”
“I have in mind something like this.”
And Hargreave was working out his plans, too; and
he was just as much of a general as Braine. He sat at
his library table, the maxillary muscles of his jaws work-
ing. So they had found him? Well, he had broken the
' law of his own making and he must suffer the conse-
quences. Braine, who was Menshikofi? in Russia,
Schwartz in Germany, Mendoza in Spain, Cartucci in
Italy, and Du Bois in France; so the rogue had found
him out? Poor fool that he had been! High spirited,
full of those youthful dreams of doing good in the world,
he had joined what he had believed a great secret so-
cialistic movement, to learn that he had been trapped by
a band of brilliant thieves. Kidnapers and assassins
for hire; the Black Hundred; fiends from Tophet! For
nearly eighteen years he had eluded them, for he knew
that directly or indirectly they would never cease to hunt
for him; and an idle whim had toppled him into their
clutches. .
He wrote several letters feverishly. The last was ad-
dressed to Miss Susan Farlow and read: “Dear Madam:
Send Florence Gray to New York, to arrive here Friday
morning. My half of the bracelet will be identification.
Inclosed find cash to square accounts.” He would get
together all his available funds, recover his child, and
fly to the ends of the world. He would tire them out.


14 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
They would find-that the peaceful dog was a bad animal
to rouse. He rang for the faithful Jones.
“Jones, they have found me,” he said simply.
“You will need me, then P"
“Quite possible. Please mail these and then we’ll talk
it over. No doubt some one is watching outside. Be
careful.”
“Very good, sir.”
Hargreave bowed his head in his hands. Many times
he had journeyed to the school and hung about the gates,
straining his eyes toward the merry groups of young
girls. Which among them was his, heart of his heart,
blood of his blood? That she might never be drawn
into this abominable tangle, he had resolutely torn her
out of his life completely. The happiness of watching
the child grow into girlhood he had denied himself. She
at least would be safe. Only when she was safe in a
far country would he dare tell her. He tried in vain
to conjure up a picture of her; he always saw the mother
whom he had loved and hated with all the ardor of his
youth.
' Many things happened the next day. There was a visit
to the hangar of one William Orts, the aviator, famous
for his daredevil exploits. There were two visitors, in
fact, and the second visitor was knocked down for his
pains. He had tried to bribe Orts.
There were several excited bankers, who protested
against such large withdrawals without the usual formal
announcement. But a check was a check, and they had
to pay.
Hargreave covered a good deal of ground, but during
all this time his right hand never left the automatic in
his overcoat pocket, except at those moments when he


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THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 15
was obliged to sign his checks. He would shoot and
make inquiries afterward.
Far away a young girl and her companion got on the-
train which was to carry her to New York, the great.
dream city she was always longing to see.
And the spider wove his web.
Hargreave reached home at night. He put the money
in the safe and was telephoning when Jones entered and
handed his master an unstamped note.
“Where did you get this?”
“At the door, sir. I judge that the house is sur-
rbunded.”
Hargreave read the note. It stated briefly that all.
his movements during the day had been noted. It was
known that he had collected a million in pa "7 money.
If he surrendered this he would be allowed ' ..enty-four
hours before the .eal chase began. Otherwise he should.
die before midnight. Hargreave crushed the note in his
hand. They might kill him; there was a chance of their
accomplishing that; but never should they touch his-
daughter’s fortune.
“Jones, you go to the rear door and I’ll take a look
out of the front. We have an hour. I know the breed.
They’ll wait till midnight and then force their way in.”
Hargreave saw a dozen shadows in the front yard.
“Men all about the back yard,” whispered Jones down.
the hall. '
The master eyed the man.
“Very well, sir,” replied the latter, with understand'
ing. “I am ready.”
The master went to the safe, emptied it of its con-
tents, crossed the hall to the bedroom, and closed the
door softly behind him, Jones having entered the same


16 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
l
room through another door to befool any possible
watcher. After a long while, perhaps an hour, the two
men emerged from the room from the same doors they
had entered. So whispered the watcher to his friends
below.
“Hargreave is going up-stairs.” _
“Let him go. t Let him take a look at us from the up—
per windows. He will understand that nothing but wings
will save him.”
Silence. By and by a watcher reported that he heard
the scuttle of the roof rattle.
“Look!” another cried, startled.
A bluish glare came from the roof.
“He’s shooting off a Roman candle!”
They never saw the man-made bird till it alighted upon
the roof. They never thought of shooting at it until it
had taken wing! Then they rushed the doors of the
house. They made short work of Jones, whom they
tied up like a Christmas fowl and plumped roughly into
a chair. They broke open the safe, to find it empty.
And while the rogues were rummaging about the room,
venting their spite upon many a treasure they could
neither appreciate nor understand, a man from the out-
side burst in.
“The old man is dead and the money is at the bottom
)of the ocean! We punctured her. She’s gone i”
» A thin, inscrutable smile stirred the lips of the man
bound in the chair,


CHAPTER II
ROON faced Hargreave’s butler somberly. The
one reason why Braine made this man his lieuten-
ant was because Vroon always followed the letter of his
instructions to the final period; he never sidestepped or
added any frills or innovations of his own, and because
of this very automatism helrarely blundered into a trap.
If he failed it was for the simple fact that the master
mind had overlooked some essential detail. The organ-
ization of the Black Hundred was almost totally unknown
to either the public or the police. It is only when you
fail that you are found out.
“The patrolman has been trussed up like you,” began
Vroon. “If they find him they will probably find you.
But before that you will grow thirsty and hungry. Where
did your master put that money P” .
“He carried it with him.”
“Why didn’t you call for help?”
“The houses on either side are too far away. I might
yell till doomsday without being heard. They will have
heard the pistol shots; but Mr. Hargreave was always
practising in the back yard.”
“The people in those two houses have been called out
of town. The servants are off for the night.”
“Very interesting,” replied Jones, staring at the rug.
17 '


18 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
“Your master is dead.”
Jones’ chin sank upon his breast. His heart was
heavy, heavier than it had ever been before.
“Your master left a will ?”
“Indeed, I could not say."
“We can say. He has still three or four millions in
stocks and bonds. What he took to the bottom of the
sea with him was his available cash.”
“I know nothing about his finances. I was his butler
and valet.”
Vroon nodded. “Come, men; it is time we took our-
selves off. Put things in order; close the safe. You
poor jackals, I always have to watch you for outbreaks
of vandalism. Off with you !”
He was the last to leave. He stared long and search-
ingly at Jones, who felt the burning gaze but refused to
meet it lest the plotter see the fire in his. The door
closed. For fully an hour Jones listened but did not
stir. They were really gone. He pressed his feet to the
floor and began to hitch the chair toward the table. Half-
way across the intervening space he crumpled in the
chair, almost completely exhausted. He let a quarter of
an hour pass, then made the final attack upon the re-
maining distance. He succeeded in reaching the desk,
but he could not have stirred an inch farther. The hair on
his head was damp with sweat and his hands were
clammy.
When he felt strength returning he lifted the telephone
off the hook with his teeth.
“Central, central! Call the police to come to this
number at once; Hargreave’s house, Riverdale. Tell
them to break in.”
After what seemed an age of waiting to the exhausted


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 19
prisoner, with crashing and smashing of doors, the police
appeared in the room.
“Where’s your gag ?” demanded the first officer to
reach Jones’ side.
“There wasn’t any.”
“Then why didn’t you yell for help?”
“The thieves lured our neighbors away from town. The
patrolman who walks this beat is bound and gagged and
is probably reposing back of the billboard in the next
block.”
“Murphy, you watch this man while I make a call on
the neighbors,” said the officer who seemed to be in au-
thority. When he returned he was frowning seriously.
“We’d better telephone to the precinct to search for Den-
nison. There’s nobody at home in either house and
there’s nobody back of the billboards. Untie the man.”
When this was done, the officer said : “Now, tell us what’s
happened; and don’t forget any of the details.”
Jones told a simple and convincing story; it was so
simple and convincing that the police believed it without
question.
“Well, if that ain’t the limit! Did you hear any autos
outside ?”
“I don’t recollect,” said Jones, stretching his legs grate-
fully. “Why?”
“The auto bandits held up a bank messenger to—day
and got away with twenty thousand. Whenever a man
draws down a big sum they seem to know about it. And
say, Murphy, call up and have the river police look out
for a new-fangled airship. Your master may have been
rescued,” turning to Jones.
“If I were only sure of that, sir!”
When the police took themselves ofi Jones proceeded


20 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
to act upon those plans laid down by Hargreave early
that night. When this was done he sought his bed and
fell asleep, the sleep of the exhausted. When Har-
greave picked up Jones to share his fortunes, he had put
his trust in no ordinary man.
A dozen reporters trooped out to the Hargreave home,
only to find it deserted. And while they were ringing '
bells and tapping windows, the man they sought was
tramping up and down the platform of the railway sta-
tion.
Through all this time Norton, the reporter, Har-
greave’s only friend, slept the sleep of the just and un-
just. He rarely opened his eyes before noon.
Group after group of passengers Jones eyed eagerly.
Often, just as he was in the act of approaching a couple
of young women, some man would hurry up, and there
would be kisses or handshakes. At length the crowd
thinned, and then it was that he discovered a young girl
perhaps eighteen, accompanied by a young woman in
the early thirties. They had the appearance of eagerly
awaiting some one. Jones stepped forward with a good
deal of diffidence.
“You are waiting for some one?”
“Yes,” said the elder woman, coldly.
“A broken bracelet ?”
The distrust on both faces vanished instantly. The
young girl’s face brightened, her eyes sparkled with sup—
pressed excitement.
“You are . . . my father P”
“No, miss,” very gravely. “I am the butler.”
“Let me see your part of the bracelet,” said the young
girl’s guardian, a teacher who had been assigned to this
delicate task by Miss Farlow, who could not bring her-


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 21
self to say good-by to Florence anywhere except at the
school gates.
The halves were produced and examined.
“I believe we may trust him, Florence.”
“Let us hurry to the taxicab. We must not stand
here.”
“My mother ?”
“She is dead. I believe she died shortly after your
birth. I have been with your father but fourteen years.
I know but little of his life prior to that.”
“Why did he leave me all these years without ever
coming to see me? Why ?”
“It is not for me, Miss Florence, to inquire into your
father’s act. But I do know that whatever he did was
meant for the best. Your welfare was everything to
him.”
“It is all very strange,” said the girl, bewilderedly.
“Why didn’t he come to meet me instead of you?”
Jones stared at his hands, miserably.
“Why?” she demanded. “I have thought of him,
thought of him. He has hurt me with all this neglect.
I expected to see him at the station, to throw my arms
around his neck and . . . forgive him l” Tears swam
in her eyes as she spoke.
“Everything will be explained to you when we reach
the house. But always remember this, Miss Florence:
You were everything in this wide world to your father.
You will never know the misery and loneliness he suf-
fered that you might not have one hour of unrest. What
are your plans?” he asked abruptly of the {teacher from
Miss Farlow’s.
“That depends,” she answered, laying her hand pro-
tectingly over the girl’s. l
f
l
k


22 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
“You could leave Miss Farlow’s on the moment?”
‘(Yes','
“Then you will stay and be Miss Florence’s com<
panion ?”
“Gladly.”
“What is my father’s name P”
“Hargreave, Stanley Hargreave.”
The girl’s eyes widened in terror. Suddenly she burst
into a wild frenzy of sobbing, her head against the
shoulder of her erstwhile teacher.
’Jones appeared visibly shocked. “What is it P”
“We read the story in the newspaper,” said the elder
woman, her own eyes filling with tears. “The poor
“child! To have all her castles-in-air tumble down like
this! But what authority have you to engage me ?” sen-
sibly.
Jones produced a document, duly signed by Hargreave,
and witnessed and sealed by a notary, in which it was
set forth that Henry Jones, butler and valet to Stanley
Hargreave, had full powers of attorney in the event of
his (Hargreave’s) disappearance; in the event of his
death, till Florence became of legal age.
Said Jones as he put the document back in his pocket:
“What is your name ?”
“Susan Wane.”
“Do you love this child P”
“With all my heart, the poor unhappy babe l”
“Thank you 1”
Inside/the home he conducted them through the vari-
ous rooins, at the same time telling them what had taken
,place during the preceding night.
“They have not found his body?” asked Florence.
“My poor, poor father 1”
e——- -~- ~ -a~ “Janna


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 23
SING),
“Then he may be alive l”
“Please God that he may!” said the butler, with
genuine piety, for he had loved the man who had gone
forth into the night so bravely and so strangely. “This
is your room. Your father spent many happy hours
here preparing it for you.”
Tears came into the girl’s eyes again, and discreetly
Jones left the two alone.
“What shall I do, Susan? Whatever shall I do ?”
“Be brave as you always are. I will never leave you
till you find your father.”
Florence kissed her fervently. “What is your opin-
ion of the butler?”
“I think we may both trust him absolutely.”
Then Florence began exploring the house. Susan fol-
lowed her closely. Florence peered behind the mirrors,
the pictures, in the drawers of the desk, in the book-
cases.
“What are you hunting for, child ?”
“A photograph of father.” But she found none.
More, there were no photographs of any kind to be found
in Stanley Hargreave’s home.
When Norton awoke, he naturally went to the door
for the morning papers which were always placed in a
neat pile before the sill. He yawned, gathered up the
bundle, was about to climb back into bed, when a heads
line caught his dull eyes. Twenty-one minutes later, to
be precise, he ran up the steps of the Hargreave home
and rang the bell. He was admitted by the taciturn
Jones, to whom the reporter had never paid any par-
ticular attention. Somehow Jones always managed to
stand in shadows. '


24 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
/
“I can add nothing to what has already appeared in the
newspapers,” replied Jones, as Norton opened his bat-
teries of inquiries.
“Mr. Jones, I have known your master several years,
as you will recollect. There never was a woman in this
house, not even among the servants. There are two in
lthe other room. Who are they? And what are they
doing here?”
Jones shook his head.
“Well, I can easily find out.”
Jones barred his path, and for the first time Norton
gazed into the eyes of the man servant. They were as
hard as gun metal.
“My dear Mr. Jones, you ought to know that sooner or
later we reporters find out what we seek.”
Jones appeared to reflect. “Mr. Norton, you claim
to be a friend of Mr. Hargreave P”
“I do not claim. I am. More than that I do not be-
lieve he is dead. He was deep. He had some relentless
. enemies—I don’t know where from or what kind—and he
is pretending he’s dead till this blows over and is for-
gotten.”
“You are not going to say that in your newspaper ?”
Jones was visibly agitated.
“Not if I can prove it.”
“If I tell you who those young ladies are, will you
give me your word of honor not to write about them till
I give my permission ?”
Norton, having in mind the big story at the end of
the mystery tangle, agreed.
“The elder is a teacher from a private school; the
other is Stanley Hargreave’s daughter.”
“Good lord!” gasped the astonished reporter. “He


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 25
never mentioned the fact to me, and we’ve been together
in some tight places.”
“He never mentioned it to any one but me.” Jones
again seemed to reflect. At last he raised his glance to
the reporter. “Are you willing to wait for a great story,
the real story?”
“If there is one,” answered Norton with his usual
caution.
“On my word of honor, you shall have such a story
as you never dreamed of, if you will promise not to di-
vulge it till the appointed time.”
“I agree.”
“The peace and happiness of that child depends upon
how you keep your word.”
That was sufficient for Norton. “Your master knew
me. He also knew that I am not a man who promises
lightly. Now introduce me to the daughter.”
With plain reluctance Jones went about the affair.
Norton put a dozen perfunctory questions to the girl.
What he was in search of was not news but the sound of
her voice. In that quarter of an hour he felt his heart
disturbed as it had never before been disturbed.
“Now, Mr. Norton,” said Jones gloomily, “will you
be so kind as to follow me P”
Norton was led to Jones’ bedroom. The butler-valet
closed the door and drew the window shade. Always
seeking shadows. This did not impress the reporter at
the time; he had no other thought but the story. Jones
then sat down beside the reporter and talked in an un-
dertone. When he had done he took Norton by the el-
bow and gently but forcibly led him down to the front
door and ushered him forth. Norton jumped into his
taxicab and returned to his rooms, which were at the


26 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY ‘"
top of the huge apartment hotel. He immediately called
up his managing editor.
“Hello! This is Norton. Put Griffin on the Har-
greave yarn. I’m off on another deal.”
/‘But Hargreave was a friend of yours,” protested the
managing editor.
“I know it. But you know me well enough, Mr. Blair.
I should not ask the transfer if it was not vitally im-
portant.”
“Oh, very well.”
“We shan’t be scooped.”
“If you can promise that, I don’t care who works on
the job. Will you be in the office to-night ?”
“If nothing prevents me.”
“Well, good-by.”
Norton filled his pipe, drew his chair to the window,
and stared at the great liner going down to sea.
“Lord, lord!” he murmured. Then he smiled and
chuckled. Some bright morning he would have all New
York by the ears, the police running round in circles,
and the chiefs of the rival sheets tearing their hair.
What a story! Four columns on the first page, and two
whole pages Sunday. . . . And all of a sudden he
ceased to smile and chuckle.
In the living room of the Countess Olga Perigoff’s
apartment the mistress lay reading on the divan. There
was no cigarette between her well shaped lips, for she
was not the accepted type of adventuress. In fact, she
was not an adventuress; she was really the Countess
Perigoff. Her maiden name had been Olga Pushkin;
but more of that later.
When Braine came in he found her dreaming with
half-closed eyes. He flourished an evening newspaper.


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 27
“Olga, even the best of us make mistakes. Here, just
glance over this.”
The Russian accepted the newspaper and read the
heading indicated: “Aeronaut picked up far out at sea.
Slips ashore from tramp steamer. Had five thousand in
cash in his pockets.”
“Hargreave escaped l”
“Not necessarily,” she replied. “If it was Hargreave
he would have had more than five thousand in his pock-
ets. My friend, I believe it an attempt to fool you; or
it is another man entirely.” She clicked her teeth with
the tops of her polished nails.
“There are two young women in the house. What
the deuce can that mean?”
“Two young women? Oh! then everything’s as simple
as daylight. Katrina Pushkin, my cousin, had a child.”
“Child? Hargreave had a child? What do you mean
by keeping this fact from me?” he stormed.
“It was useless till this moment. He probably sent
for her yesterday; but in his effort to escape had to turn
her over to his butler. We shall soon learn whether
Hargreave is dead or alive. We can use the child to
bring him back.”
The anger went out of his eyes. “You’re a wonder,
Olga.”
“But you should have gone with Vroon last night. vvHe
does everything just as you tell him. When they re-
ported that Hargreave had visited Ort’s hangar you
ought to have prepared against such a coup as flight
through the air.”
“I admit it. But a daughter! Well, I can bring him
back,” with a sinister laugh. “By the Lord Harry, I
have him in my hands this time, that is, if this girl turns


28 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
out to be his daughter./ A million? Two, three, all he
has in the world. I want you to pay a visit right away.
Watch the butler, Jones. He’ll lie, of course; but note
how he treats the girl; and if you get the chance look
around the walls for a secret panel. He might not have
carried away the cash at all, only enough for his im-
mediate needs, which would account or that five thou-
sand on the man picked up at sea. If I could only get
inside that house for an hour l”
“I believe I’ll call at once. Leo, was Hargreave the
man’s real name?”
Braine laughed. “That is of no vital consequence. He
will be Hargreave till the end of the chapter, dead or
alive. You can tell me the news at dinner to-night.”
So, later, when the butler accepted her card at the
door, loath as he might be, there was nothing for him to
do but admit her.
“Whom do you wish to see, madam?” stepping back
into the shadow.
“Miss Hargreave. I’m an old friend of her mother’s.”
“There is no such person here.”
“To whom, then, does this hat belong?” she asked
quietly. She waved her hand indolently toward the hall
rack.
Jones’ lips tightened. “That belongs to Miss Gray, a
kind of protégée of Mr. Hargreave’s.”
“Indeed! You have no objections to my seeing her?
My maiden name was Olga Pushkin, cousin to Katrina,
wife of Stanley Hargreave. I am, if you will weigh the
matter carefully, a kind of aunt.”
To Jones it was as if ice had suddenly come into con-
tact_with his heart’s blood. But as he still stood in the
shadow, she did not observe the pallor of his face.


r
THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 29
“If you will state exactly why you wish to see her,
madam.”
“You seem to possess authority?”
“Yes, madam, absolute authority.”
Jones produced his document and presented it to her.
“There is no flaw in that,” she agreed readily. “I
wish to see the child. I have told you why.”
“Very well, madam.” Why had they not telegraphed
the child, even on the train, to return to Farlow’s. He
knew nothing of this woman, whether she was an enemy
or a friend. He conducted his unwelcome guest into
the library.
“How did you know that she was here?” suddenly. .
But she was ready. “I did not. But the death of Mr.
Hargreave brought me. And that youthful hat in the hall
was a story all its own. Later I shall show you some
papers of my own. You will have no cause to doubt
them. They have not the legal power of yours, but they
would find standing in any court.”
Jones turned and went in search of Florence.
The countess lost no time in beginning her investiga-
tions, but she wasted her time. There was no secret
panel in evidence.
“Who is she P” asked Florence as she looked at the
rd. “Did my father know countesses ?”
“Yes,” said Jones briefly. “Be very careful what you
say to her. Admit nothing. She claims to be a cousin
of your mother. Perhaps.”
/“My mother?” Without waiting for any further ad-
vice from Jones, whom Florence in her young years
thought presuming upon his authority, she ran down-
stairs to the library. Her mother, to learn some facts
about the mother of whom she knew nothing!
i. ,r ‘i


30 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
“You knew my mother P” she cried without ceremony.
Jones heard the countess say: “I did, my child; and
heaven is witness that you are the exact picture of her at
your age. And I knew your father.”
Jones straightened, his hands shut tightly.
“Tell me about my father !”
, The countess smiled. It was Katrina Pushkin come to
life, the same impulsiveness. “I knew him but slightly.
I was a mere child myself when he used to pinch my
cheeks. I met him again the other night, but he did not
recognize me; and I could not find it in my heart to
awaken his memory in a public restaurant.”
Presently Jones came in to announce that two de-
tectives requested to see Florence. The two men en-
tered, informing her that they had been instructed to
investigate the disappearance of Stanley Hargreave.
“Who are you, miss?”
“I am his daughter.”
I‘Ah !”
One of the detectives questioned Florence minutely,
while the other wandered about the rooms, feeling the
walls, using the magnifying glass, turning back the rugs.
Even the girl’s pretty room did not escape his scrutiny.
By and by he returned to the library and beckoned to
his companion. The two conferred for a moment. One
chanced to look into the mirror. He saw the bright eyes
of the countess gazing intelligently into his.
“I’m afraid we’ll have to ask you to accompany us
to the station, miss.”
“Why ?”
“Some technicalities. We must have some proof of
your right to be in this house. So far as we have learned,





THE PEACEFUL BUTLER ENTERED INTO THE FIELD OF ACTION


.t I.
‘.\_,- "hadeafirl
_.~._4


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 31
Hargreave was unmarried. It will take but a few min-
utes.”
“And I will accompany you,” said the countess. “We’ll
be back within half an hour. I’ll tell them what I know.”
Jones, in the hall, caught sight of the reporter coming
vup the steps. Here was some one he could depend upon.
“Why, Mr. Norton!”
The reporter eyed the countess in amazement.
“You look surprised. Naturally. I am a cousin of
Miss Florence’s mother. You might say that I am her
aunt. It’s a small world, isn’t it?” But if wishing could
, poison, the reporter would have died that moment.
“Who are you and what are you doing here ?” one of
the detectives demanded.
“I am going to ask that very question of you,” said
Norton urbanely.
“We are from headquarters,” replied one, showing his
badge.
“What headquarters? What are they asking you to
do?” he said to Florence.
“They say I must go to the police station with them.”
“Not the least in the world,” laughed the reporter.
“You two clear out of here as fast as your rascally legs
can carry you. I don’t know what your game is, but I
do know every reputable detective in New York, and you
1 don’t belong.”
“Good heavens!” exclaimed the countess; “do you
mean to say that these men are not real detectives ?”
“This girl goes to the police station, young man. So
much the worse for you if you meddle. Take yourself
off!”
“All in good time.”


32 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
“Here, Jenner, you take charge of the girl. I’ll han-
dle this guy. He shall go to the station, too.”
What followed would always be vividly remembered
by Florence, fresh from the peace and happiness of her
school life. Norton knocked his opponent down. He
rose and for a moment the room seemed full of legs andi
arms and panting men. A foot tripped up Norton and
he went down under the bogus detective. He never sus-
pected that the tripping foot was not accidental. He was
too busy. .
The other man dragged Florence toward the hall, but
there the peaceful butler entered into the field of action
with a very unattractive automatic. The detective threw
up his hands.
The struggle went on in the library. A trick of jiu-
jutsu brought about the downfall of Norton's man, and
Norton ran out into the hall to aid Jones. He searched '
the detective’s pockets and secured the revolver. The
result of all this was that the two bogus detectives soon
found themselves in charge of two policemen, and they
were marched off to the station.
“Your advent was most providential, Mr. Norton,”
said Jones in his usual colorless tones.
“I rather believe so. Why don’t you pack up and clear
out for a while?”
“I am stronger in this house than elsewhere,” answered
the butler enigmatically.
“Well, you know best,” said the reporter,
The countess was breathing rapidly. ,No, on second
thought she had no wish to throw her arms about the re-
porter’s neck and kiss him.


wUZwMOAh "MO HUZMQFCAOU Mmh szjaw 3m Him





CHAPTER III
‘ HE countess ’did not remain long after the de-
/ parture of the police with the bogus detectives. It
had been a very difficult corner to wriggle out of, all
because Braine had added to his plans after she had left
the apartment. But for the advent of the meddling re-
porter the coup would have succeeded, herself appar-
ently perfectly innocent of complicity. That must be the
keynote of all her plans: to appear quite innocent and
leave no trail behind her. She had gained the confidence
of Florence and her companion. And she was rather
certain that she had impressed this lazy-eyed reporter and
the stolid butler. She had told nothing but the truth
regarding her relationship. They would find that out.
[She was Katrina Pushkin’s cousin. But blood with her
counted as naught. She had room in her heart but for
two things, Braine and money to spend on her caprices.
“How long has your highness known Mr. Braine?”
asked the reporter idly, as he smoothed away all signs
(of his recent conflict.
I “Oh, the better part of a year. Mr. Hargreave did not
recognize me the other night. That was quite excusable,
for when he last saw me I was not more than twelve.
My child,” she said to Florence, “build no hopes regard-
ing your mother. She is doubtless dead. Upon some
33


34 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
trivial matter—I do not know what it was—she was con-
fined to the fortress. That was seventeen years ago.
When you enter the fortress at St. Petersburg, you
cease to be.”
“That is true enough.”
“I did not recall myself to your father. I did not care-
at that moment to shock him with the remembrance of
the past., Is not Mr. Braine a remarkable man ?” All
this in her charming broken English.
“He is, indeed,” affirmed Norton. “He’s a superb
linguist, knows everybody and has traveled everywhere.
No matter what subject you bring up he seems well in-
formed.”
“Come often,” urged Florence.
“I shall, my child. And any time you need me, call
for me. After all, I am nearly your aunt. You will find
life in the city far different from that which you have
been accustomed to.”
She limped down to her limousine. In tripping up
Norton he had stepped upon her foot heavily.
“She is lovely!” cried Florence.
“Well, I must be on my way, also,” said Norton. “I
am a worldly-wise man, Miss Florence. So is Jones here.
Never go any place without letting him know; not even
to the corner drug store. I am going to find your father.
Some one was rescued. I’m going to find out whether
it was the aviator or Mr. Hargreave.” '
Jones drew in a deep breath and his eyes closed for a
moment. At the door he spoke to the reporter.
“What do you think of that woman ?”
I “I believe that she told the truth. She is charming.” -
“She is. But for all her charm and truth I can not
help distrusting her. I have an idea. I shall call up your é_



T"ERE WAS A STORMY
a
SCENE BETWEEN


BRAINE AND THE PRINCESS


72,1


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY ou-
ofiice at the end of each day. If a day comes without a
call, you will know that something is wrong.”
“A very good idea.” Norton shook hands with_every
one and departed.
“What a brave, pleasant young man
Susan.
“I like him, too; and I’d like him for a friend,” said
the guileless girl.
“It is very good to have a friend like Mr. Norton,”
added Jones; and passed out into the kitchen. All the
help had been discharged and upon his shoulders lay the
burden of the cooking till such time when he could re-
instate the cook.
There was a stormy scene between Braine and the
countess that night.
“Are you in your dotage ?” she asked vehemently.
“There, there; bring your voice down a bit. Where’s
the girl?”
“In her home. Where did you suppose she would be,
after that botchwork of letting me go to do one thing
while you had in mind another? And an ordinary pair
of cutthroats, at that!”
“The thought came to me after you left. I knew you’d
recognize the men and understand. I see no reason why
it didn’t work.”
“It would have been all right if you had consulted at
clairvoyant.”
“What the deuce do you mean by that?” Braine de-
manded roughly.
“I mean that then you would have learned your friend
the reporter was to arrive upon the scene at its most
vital moment.”
“What, Norton P”
P!
murmured


I
/
/
.f'ae THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
“Yes. The trouble is with you, you have been so suc-
cessful all these years that you have grown overconfident.
I tell you that there is a desperately shrewd man some-
where back of all this. Mark me, I do not believe Har-
greave is dead. He is in hiding. It may be near by. He
may have dropped from the balloon before it left land.
The man they picked up may be Orts, the aeronaut. IT he
five thousand might have been his fee for rescuing Har-
greave. Here is the greatest thing we’ve ever been up
against; and you start in with every—day methods 1”
“Little woman, don’t let your tongue run away with
you too far.”
“I’m not the least bit afraid of you, Leo. You need .
me, and it has never been more apparent than at this
moment.”
“All right. I fell by the wayside this trip. Truth-
fully, I realized it five minutes after the men were gone.
The only clever thing I did was to keep the mask on my
face. They can’t come back at me. But the thing
looked so easy; and it would have worked but for Nor-
ton’s appearance.”
“You all but compromised me. That butler worries
me a little.” Her expression lost its anger and grew
thoughtful. “He’s always about, somewhere. Do you
think Hargreave took him into his confidence P"
“Can’t tell. He’s been watched straight for forty
hours. fHe hasn’t mailed a letter or telephoned to any
'place but the grocery. There have been no telegrams.
Some one in that house knows where the money is, and
it’s ten to one that it will be the girl.”
“She looks enough like Katrina to be her ghost.”
Braine went over to the window and stared up at the
stars.


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 37
“You have made a good impression on the girl ?” with
his, back still toward her.
/'“I had her in my arms.”
“Olga, my hat is off to you,” turning, now that his face
was again in repose. “Your very frankness regarding
your relationship will pull the wool over their eyes. Of
course they’ll make inquiries and they’ll find out that you
haven’t lied. It’s perfect. Not even that newspaper
weasel will see anything wrong. Toward you they will
eventually ease up and you can act without their even
dreaming your part in the business. We must not be
seen in public any more. This butler may know where
I stand even though he can not prove it. Now, I’m go-
ing to tell you something. Perhaps you’ve long since
guessed it. Katrina was mine till Hargreave—never
mind what his name was then—till Hargreave came into
the fold. So sure of her was I that I used her as a lure
to bring him to us. She fell in love with him, but too
late to warn him. I had the satisfaction of seeing him
cast her aside, curse her, and leave her. In one thing
she fooled us all. I never knew of the child till you
told me.”
He paused to light a cigarette.
“Hargreave was madly in love with her. He cursed
her, but he came back to the house to forgive her, to find
that she had been seized by the secret police and en-
tombed in the fortress. I had my revenge. It was I
who sent in the information, practically bogus. But in
Russia they never question; they act and forget. So he
had a daughter !”
He paced the floor, his hands behind his back; the
woman watched him, oscillating between love and fear.
He came to a halt abruptly and looked down at her.


38 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
“Don’t worry. You have no rival. I’ll leave the daugh-
ter to your tender mercies.”
“The butler,” she said, “has full power of attorney to
act for Hargreave while absent. up to the day the girl
becomes of legal age.”
“I’ll keep an eye on our friend Jones. From now on,
day and night, there will be a cat at the knothole, and
’ware mouse! Could you make up anything like this
girl P” suddenly.
“A fair likeness.”
“Do it. Go to the ship which picked up the man at
sea and quiz the captain. Either the aviator or Har-
greave is alive. It is important to learn which at once.
Be very careful; play the game only as you know how
to play it. And if Hargreave is alive, we win. To-mor-
row morning, early. Tears of anguish, and all that.
Sailors are easy when a woman weeps. No color, re-
member; just the yellow wig and the salient features.
Now, by—by!”
“Aren’t you going to kiss me, Leo ?”
He caught her hands. “There is a species of Delilah
about you, Olga. A kiss to-night from your lips would
snip my locks; and I need a clear head. Whether we
fail or win, when this game is played you shall be my
wife.” He kissed the hands and strode out into the hall.
‘.Th_e woman gazed down at her small white hands and
smiled tenderly. (The tigress has her tender moments!)
He meant it!
She went into her dressing-room and for an hour or
more worked over her face and hair, till she was certain
that if the captain of the ship described her to any one
else he could not fail to give a fair description of Flor-
ence Hargreave.


4.
pl
Siff-
50’.


NORTON REACHED THE CAPTAIN FIRST


A
>~_.


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 39
f/‘But Norton reached the captain first. Other reporters
had besieged him, but they had succeeded in gathering the
vaguest kind of information. They had no description
of Hargreave, while Norton had. Before going down ',
to the boat, however, he had delved into the past of the
Countess Olga Perigoff. It cost him a pocketful of
money, but the end justified the means. The countess
had no past worth mentioning. By piecing this and that
together he became assured that she had told the simple
truth regarding the relationship to Florence’s mother.
A cablegram had given him all the facts in her history;
there were no gaps or discrepancies. It read clear and
frank. Trust a Russian secret agent to know what he
was talking about.
So Norton’s suspicions—and he had entertained some
—were completely lulled to sleep. And he wouldn’t have
doubted her at all except for the fact that Braine had
been with her when he had introduced Hargreave. Har-
greave had feared Braine; that much the reporter had
elicited from the butler. But there wasn’t the slightest
evidence. Braine had been in New York for nearly six
years. The countess had arrived in the city but a year
ago. And Braine was a member of several fashionable
clubs, never touched cards, and seldom drank. He was
an expert chess player and a wonderful amateur billiard-
ist. Perhaps Jones, the taciturn and inscrutable, had
not told him all he knew regarding his master’s past.
Well, well; he had in his time untangled worse snarls.
The office had turned him loose, a free lance, to handle
the case as he saw fit, to turn in the story when it was
complete.
But what a story it was going to be when he cleared
it up! The more mystifying it was, the greater the zest-
\.


40 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
and sport for him. Norton was like a gambler who
played for big stakes, and only big stakes stirred his
cravings.
The captain of the tramp steamer Orient told him the
same tale he had told the other reporters: he had picked
,up a man at sea. The man had been brought aboard
totally exhausted.
“Was there another body anywhere ?”
I‘No",
“What became of him ?”
“I sent a wireless and that seemed to bother him. It
looked as though he did not want anybody to learn that he
had been rescued. The moment the boat touched the
pier~he lost himself in the crowd. Fifty reporters came
aboard, but he was gone. And I could but tell them just
what I’m telling you.”
“He had money.”
“About five thousand.”
“Please describe him.”
The captain did so. It was the same description he
had given to all the reporters. Norton looked over the
rail at the big warehouse.
“Was it an ordinary balloon P”
“There you’ve got me. My Marconi man says the
balloon part was like any other balloon; but the passen—
ger car was a new business to him. It could be driven
[against the wind.”
“Driven against the wind. Did you tell this to the other
chaps?”
“Don’t think I did. Just remembered it. Probably
some new invention; and now it’s at the bottom of the
‘sea. Two men, as I understand, went off in this contrap-
tion. One is gone fur gOOCI."


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 41
“For good,” echoed the reporter gravely. “Gone for
good, indeed, poor devil!”
Norton took out a roll of bills. “There’s two hundred
in this roll.”
“Well?” said the captain, vastly astonished.
“It’s yours if you will do me a small favor.”
“If it doesn’t get me mixed up with the police. I’m
only captain of a tramp; and some of the harbor police
have taken a dislike to me. What do you want me
to do P”
“The police will not bother you. This man Hargreave
had some enemies; they want either his life or his money;
maybe both. It’s a peculiar case, with Russia in the back-
ground. He might have laid the whole business before
the police, but he chose to fight it out himself. And to
tell the truth, I don’t believe the police would have d0ne
any good.”
“Heave her over; what do you want me to do for that
handsome roll of money ?” _
“If ahy man or woman who is not a reporter comes to
pump you tell them the man went ashore with a packet
under his arm.”
“Tie a knot in that.”
“Say the man was gray-haired, clean-shaven, straight,
with a scar high up on his forehead, generally covered
up by his hair.”
“That’s battened down, my lad. Go on.”
“Say that you saw him enter yonder warehouse, and
later depart without his packet.”
“Easy as dropping my mudhook.”
“That’s all.” Norton gave the captain the money.
“Good—by and many thanks."
“Don’t mention it.”
/'


42 _ THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
Norton left the slip and proceeded to the office of the
warehouse. He approached the manager’s desk.
“Hello, Grannis, old top l”
The man looked up from his work surlily. Then his
face brightened. .
“Norton? What’s brought you here? Oh, yes; that
balloon business. Sit down.”
“What kind of a man is the captain of that old hooker
in the slip ?”
“Shiny in gun running, but otherwise as square as a
die. Looks funny to see an old tub like that fixed up
with wireless; but that has saved his neck a dozen times
when he was running it into a noose. Not going to in-
terview me, are you ?”
“N 0. I’m going to ask you to do me a little favor.”
“They always say that. But spin her out. If it
7 ‘doesn’t cost me my job, it’s yours.”
“Well, there will be a person making inquiries about
the mysterious aeronaut. All I want you to say .is, that
he left a packet with you, that you’ve put it in that safe
till he calls to claim it.”
Grannis nibbled the end of his pen. “Suppose some
one should come and demand that I open the safe and
deliver P”
“All you’ve got _to do is to tell them to show the re-
lceipt signed by you.”
The warehouse manager laughed. “Got a lot of sense
in that ivory dome of yours. All right. But if any-
thing happens you’ve got to come around and back me
up. What’s it about P”
“That I dare not tell you. This much, I’m laying a
trap and I want some one I don’t know to fall into it.”
“On your way, James. But if you don’t send me some
4


)
I
THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 43
prize fight tickets next week for this, I’ll never do you
another favor.”
In reply Norton took from his pocket two bits of
pasteboard and laid them on the desk. “I knew you’d
be wanting something like this.”
- “Ringside!” cried Grannis. “You reporters are lucky
,devils!” -
“I’d go myself if there was any earthly chance of a
real scrap. You make me laugh, Gran. You’re always
going, always hoping the next one will be a 'eal one.
But it’s all bunk. The pugs are the biggest fakers on top
of the sod. They’ve got us newspaper men done to a.
fra 1e
guess you’re right. Well, count on me regarding
that mysterious bundle in the safe.”
“At three o’clock this afternoon I want you to call me
up. If no one has called, why the game is up. But if
some one does come around and make inquiries, don’t
fail to let me know.”
“I’ll be here till five. I’d better call you up then.”
Then Norton returned home and idled about till after-
. noon. He went over to Riverdale. Five times he walked
up and down in front of the Hargreave place, finally
plucked up his courage and walked to the door. After
all, he was a lucky mortal. He had a good excuse to
visit this house every day in the week. And there was
something tantalizing in the risk he took. Besides, he
wanted to prove to himself whether it was a passing
fancy or something deeper. That’s the way with hu-
mans; we never see a sign “Fresh Paint” that we don’t
have to prove it.
He chatted with Florence for a while and found that,
for all she might be guileless to the world, she was a


44 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
good linguist, a fine musician, and talked with remarkable
keenness about books and arts. But unless he roused
her, the sadness of her position always lay written in her
face. It was not difficult for him to conjure up her
dreams in coming to the city and the blow which, like a
bolt of lightning from a clear sky, had shattered them
ruthlessly.
“You must come every day and tell me how you have
progressed,” she said.
“I’ll obey that order gladly, whenever I can possibly
do it. My visits will always be short.”
“That is not necessary.”
“N 0,” said Norton in his heart, “but it is wise.”
Always he found Jones waiting for him at the door,
always in the shadow.
“Well?” the butler whispered.
“I have laid a neat trap. Whether this balloon was the
one that left the top of this house I don’t know. ’But if
there were two men in it, one of them lies at the bottom
of the sea.”
“And the man who was found?” The butler’s voice
was tense.
“It was not Hargreave. I met Orts but once, and as
he wore a beard then, the captain’s description did not
tally with your recollection.”
, “Thank God! But what is this trap ?"
ii “I propose to find out by it who is back of all this, who
Hargreave’s real enemies are.”
Norton returned to his rooms, there to await the call
from Grannis. He was sorry, but if Jones would not
take him into his fullest confidence, he must hold himself
to blame for any blunder he (Norton) made. Of course,
he could readily understand Jones' angle of vision. He


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 45
knew nothing of the general run of reporters; he had
heard of them by rumor and distrusted them. He was
not aware of the fact that the average reporter carries
more secrets in his head than a prime minister. It was,
then, up to him to set about to allay this distrust and
gain the man’s complete confidence.
Meanwhile that same morning a pretty young woman
boarded the Orient and asked to be led to the captain.
Her eyes were red; she had evidently been weeping.
When the captain, susceptible like all sailors, saw her his
promises to Norton took wings.
“This is Captain Hagan?” she asked, balling the hand-
kerchief she held in her hand.
“Yes, miss. What can I do for you?” He put his
hands embarrassedly into his pockets—and felt the crisp
bills. But for that magic touch he would have forgotten
his lines. He squared his shoulders.
“I have every assurance that the man you picked up at
sea is my father. I am Florence Hargreave. Tell me
everything.”
The captain’s very blundering deceived her. “And
then he hustled down the gangplank and headed for that
warehouse. He had a package which he was as tender of
as if it had been dynamite.”
“Thank you!” impulsively.
“A man has to do his duty, miss. A sailor’s always
g d to rescue a man at sea,” awkwardly.
I When she finally went down the gangplank the sigh the
captain heaved was almost as loud as the exhaust from
the donkey engines which were working out the crates of
lemons from the hold.
“Maybe she is his daughter; but two hundred is two
hundred, and I’m a poor sailor man.”


46 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
Then Grannis came in for his troubles. What was a
chap to do when a pretty girl appealed to him?
“I am sorry, miss, but I can’t give you that package. I
gave the man a receipt and till it is presented to me the
package must remain in yonder safe. You understand
enough about the business to realize that. I did not solicit
the job. It was thrust upon me. I’d give a hundred dol-J
lars if the blame thing was out of my safe. You say it is
your fortune. That hasn’t been proved. It may be gun-
powder, dynamite. _/'I’m sorry, but you will have to find
your father and bring the receipt.”
The young woman left the warehouse, dabbing her eyes
with the sodden handkerchief.
“I wonder,” mused Grannis, as he watched her from
the window, “I wonder what the deuce that chap Norton
is up to. The girl might have been the man’s daughter.
Good lord, what an ass I am! There wasn’t any
man l” And so he reached over for the telephone.
Immediately upon receipt of the message the reporter
set his machinery in motion. Some time before dawn he
would know who the arch-conspirator was. He ques-
tioned Grannis thoroughly, and Grannis’ description tal-
lied amazingly with that of Florence Hargreave. But a
call over the wire proved to him conclusively that F lor-
ence had not been out of the house that morning.
On the morrow the newspapers had scare heads about
an attempt to rob the Duffy warehouse. It appeared that
the police had been tipped beforehand and were on the
grounds in time to gather in several notorious gunmen,
who, under pressure of the third degree, vowed that they
had been hired and paid by a man in a mask and had not
the slightest idea what he wanted them to raid. Nothing
further could be got out of the gunmen. That they,


l
l
THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 47
were lying the police had no doubt, but they were up
against a stout wall and all they could do was to hold the
men for the grand jury.
Norton was in a fine temper. After all his careful
planning_ he had gained nothing—absolutely nothing. But
wait; he had gained something—the bitter enmity of a
cunning and desperate man, who had been forced to re-
main hidden under the pier till almost dawn.


CHAPTER IV
RAINE crawled from his uncomfortable hiding
B place. His clothes were soiled and damp, his hat
was gone. By a hair’s breadth he had escaped the clever
trap laid for him. Hargreave was alive, he had escaped;
Braine was as certain of this fact as he was of his own
breathing. He now knew how to account for the flicker-
ing light in the upper story of the warehouse. His ancient
enemy had been watching him all the time. More than .
this, Hargreave and the meddling reporter were in collu-
sion. In the flare of lights at the end of the gun-play he
had caught the profile of the reporter. Here was a dan-
gerous man, who must be watched with the utmost care.
He, Braine, had been lured to commit an overt act, and
by the rarest good luck had escaped with nothing more
serious than a cold chill and a galling disappointment.
/ He crawled along the top of the pier, listening, sending
his dark-accustomed glance hither and thither. The sky
\in the east was growing paler and paler. In and out
among the bales of wool, bags of coffee and lemon crates
he slowly and cautiously wormed his way. A watchman
patrolled the office side of the warehouse, and Braine
found it possible to creep around the other way, thence
into the street. After that he straightened up, sought a
second-hand shop and purchased a soft hat, which he
pulled down over his eyes.
48


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 49
He had half a dozen rooms which he always kept in
readiness for such adventures as this. He rented them
furnished in small hotels which never asked questions of
their patrons. To one of these he went as fast as his
weary legs could carry him. He always carried the key.
Once in his room he donned fresh wearing apparel, linen,
shoes, and shaved. Then he proceeded down-stairs, the
second-hand hat shading his eyes and the upper part of
his face.
At half past twelve Norton entered the Knickerbocker
cafe-restaurant, and the first person he noticed was
Braine, reading 'the morning’s paper, propped up against
the water carafe. Evidently he had just ordered, for
there was nothing on his plate. Norton walked over and
laid his hand upon Braine’s shoulder. The man looked
up with mild curiosity.
“Why, Norton, sit down, sit down! Have you had
lunch? N 0? Join me.”
“Thanks. Came in for my breakfast,” said Norton,
drawing out the chair. Braine was sitting with his back
to the wall on the lounge-seat.
“I wonder if you newspaper men ever eat a real, true
enough breakfast. I should think the hours you lead
would kill you off. Anything new on the Hargreave
story?”
“I’m not handling that,” the reporter lied cheerfully.
“Didn’t want to. I knew him rather intimately. I’ve a
horror of dead people, and don’t want to be called'upon to
identify the body when they find it.”
“Then you think they will find it?”
“I don’t know. It’s a strange mixup. I’m not on the
story, mind you; but I was in the locality of Duffy’s ware-
house late last night and fell into a gunman rumpus.”


50 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
“Yes, I read about that. What were they after ?”
“You’ve got me there. No one seems to know. Some
cock and bull story about there being something valuable.
There was.”
“What was it? The report in this paper does not say.”
“Ten thousand bags of coffee.”
Braine lay back in his chair and laughed.
“If you want my opinion,” said Norton, “I believe the
gunmen were out to shoot up another gang, and the police
got wind of it.”
“Don’t you think it about time the police called a halt
in this gunman matter?”
“Oh, so long as they pot each other the police look the
other way. It saves a long trial and paSsage up the river.
Besides, when they are nabbed some big politician man-
ages to open the door for them. Great is the American
voter.”
“Take Mr. Norton’s order, Luigi,” said Braine.
“A German pancake, buttered toast and coffee,” or-
dered the reporter.
“Man, eat something !”
“It’s enough for me."
“And you’ll go all the rest of the day on tobacco. I
know something of you chaps. I don’t see how you man-
age to do it.”
“Food is the least of our troubles. By the way, may I
ask you a few questions? Nothing for print, unless
you’ve got a new book coming.”
“Fire away."
“What do you know about the Countess Perigofi ?”
“Let me see. H’m. Met her first about a year ago at
a reception given to Nasimova. A very attractive woman.
I see quite a lot of her. Why?”


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 51
6
“Well, she claims to be a sort of aunt to Hargreave’s
daughter.”
“She said something to me about that the other night.
You never know where you’re at in this World, do you ?"
The German pancake, the toast, the coffee disappeared,
and the reporter passed his cigars.
“The president visits town to-day and I’m off to watch
the show. I suppose I’ll have to interview him about the
tariff and all that rot. When you start on a new book let
me know and I’ll be your press agent.”
“That’s a bargain.”
“Thanks for the breakfast.”
Braine picked up his newspaper, smoked and read. He
smoked, yes, but he only pretended to read. The young
fool was clever, but no man is infallible. He had not the
least suspicion; he saw only the newspaper story. Still,
in some manner he might stumble upon the truth, and it
would be just as well to tie the reporter’s hands effectu-
ally.
The rancor of early morning had been subdued; anger
and quick temper never paid in the long run, and no one
appreciated this fact better than Braine. To put Norton
out of the way,temporarily was only a wise precaution;
it was not a matter of spite or reprisal.
He paid the reckoning, left the restaurant, and dropped
into one of his clubs for a game of billiards. He drew
quite a gallery about the table. He won easily, racked his
cue and sought the apartments of the countess.
What a piece of luck it was that Olga had really mar-
ried that old dotard, Perigoff! He had left her a titled
widow six months after her marriage. But she had had
hardly a kopeck to call her own.
“Olga, Hargreave is alive. He was there last night.


52 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
But somehow he anticipated the raid and had the police
in waiting. The question is, has he fooled usP Did he
take that million or did he hide it? There is one thing
left—to get that girl. No matter where Hargreave is
hidden, the knowledge that she is in my hands will bring
him out into the open.”
“N o more blind alleys.”
“What’s on your mind P”
“She has never seen her father. She confessed to me
that she has not even seen a photograph of him.”
There was a long pause.
“Do you understand me P” she asked.
“By the Lord Harry, I do! You’ve a head on you
worth two of mine. The very simplicity of the idea will
win out for us. Some one to pose as her father; a mes-
sage handed to her in secret; dire misfortune if she whis-
pers a word to any one; that her father’s life hangs upon
the secrecy; she must confide in no one, least of all Jones,
the butler. It all depends upon how the letter gets to her.
Bred in the country, she probably sleeps with her window
open. A pebble attached to a note, tossed into the win-
dow. I’ll trust this to no one; I’ll do it myself. With the
girl in our control the rest will be easy. If she really does
not know where the money is Hargreave will tell us.
Great head, little woman, great head. She does not know
her father’s handwriting P”
“She has never seen a scrap of it. Miss Farlow never
showed her the registered letters. The original note left
on the doorstep with Florence has been lost. Trust me to
make all these inquiries.”
“To-morrow night, then, immediately after dinner, a.
taxicab will await her just around the corner. Grange is


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 53
the best man I can think of. He’s an artist when it comes
to playing the old-man parts.”
“N at too old, remember. Hargreave isn’t over forty-
five.”
“Another good point. I’m going to stretch out here on
the divan and snooze for a while. Had a devil of a time
last night.”
“When shall I wake you?”
“At six. We’ll have an early dinner sent in. I want to
keep out of everybody’s way. By-by !"
In less than three minutes he was sound asleep. The
woman gazed down at him in wonder and envy. If only
she could drop to sleep like that. Very softly she pressed
her lips to hair.
At eleven o’clock the following night the hall light in
the Hargreave house was turned off and the whole inte-
rior became dark. A shadow crept through the lilac
bushes without any more sound than a cat'would have
made. Florence’s window was open as the arch-conspir-
ator had expected it would be. With a small string and
stone as a sling he sent the letter whirling skilfully
through the air. It sailed into the girl’s room. The man
below heard no sound of the stone hitting anything and
concluded that it had struck the bed.
He waited patiently. Presently a wavering light could
be distinguished over the sill of the window. The girl
was awake and had lit the candle. This knowledge was
sufficient for his need. The tragic letter would do the
rest, that is, if the girl came from the same pattern as
her father and mother—strong-willed and adventurous.
He tiptoed back to the lilacs, when a noise sent him
close to the ground. Half a dozen feet away he saw a


54 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
shadow creeping along toward the front door. Presently
the shadow stood up as if listening. He stooped again
and ran lightly to the steps, up these to the door, which
he hugged.
Who was this? wondered Braine. Patiently he waited,
arranging his posture so that he could keep a lookout at
the door. By and by the door opened cautiously. A man
holding a candle appeared. Braine vaguely recognized
Olga’s description of the butler. The man on the veranda
suddenly blew out the light.
Braine could hear the low murmur of voices, but noth-
ing more. The conversation lasted scarcely a minute. The
door closed and the man ran down the steps, across the
lawn, with Braine close at his heels.
“Just a moment, Mr. Hargreave,” he called ironically;
“just a moment l”
The man he addressed as Hargreave turned with light-
ning rapidity and struck. The blow caught Braine above
the ear, knocking him flat. When he regained his feet the
rumble of a motor told him the rest of the story.
By the dim light of her bedroom candle Florence read
the note which had found entrance so strangely and mys—
teriously into her room. Her father! He lived, he needed
her! Alive, but in dread peril, and only she could save
him! She longed to fly to him at once, then and there.
How could she wait till to-morrow night at eight? Imme—
diately she began to plan how to circumvent the watchful
Jones and the careful Susan. Her father! She slept no
more that night.
“My Darling Daughter: I must see you. Come at




SHE READ WITH SUSAN . o .


-_-_J


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 55
eight o’clock to-morrow night to 78 Grove Street, third
floor. Confide in no one, or you seal my death warrant.
“Your unhappy
“FATHER.”
What child would refuse to obey a summons like this?
A light tap on the door startled her.
“Is anything the matter P” asked the mild voice of
Jones.
“N 0. I got up to get a drink of water.”
She heard his footsteps die away down the corridor.
She thrust the letter into the pocket of her dress, which
lay neatly folded on the chair at the foot of the bed, then
climbed back into the bed itself. She must not tell even
Mr. Norton.
Was the child spinning a romance over the first young
man she had ever met? In her heart of hearts the girl
did not know.
Her father!
It was all so terribly and tragically simple, to match a
woman’s mind against that of a child. Both Norton and
the sober Jones had explicitly warned her never to go any-
where, receive telephone calls or letters, without first con-
sulting one or the other of them. And now she had
planned to deceive them, with all the cunning of her sex.
The next morning at breakfast there was nothing un-
usual either in her appearance or manners. Under the
shrewd scrutiny of Jones she was just her every-day self,
a fine bit of acting for one who had yet to see the stage.
But it is born in woman to act, as it is born in man to
fight, and Florence was no exception to the rule.
She was going to save her father.
She read with Susan, played the piano, sewed a little,
(


56 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
laughed, hummed and did a thousand and one things
young girls do when they have the deception of their
elders in view.
, All day long Jones went about like an old hound with
his nose to the wind. There was something in the air, but
he could not tell what it was. Somehow or other, no mat-
ter which room Florence went into, there was Jones with-
in earshot. And she dared not show the least impatience
or restiveness. It was a large order for so young a girl,
but she filled it.
She rather expected that the reporter would appear
some time during the afternoon; and sure enough he did.
He could no more resist the desire to see and talk to her
than he could resist breathing. There was no use denying
it; the world had suddenly turned at a new angle, pre-
senting a new face, a roseate vision. It rather subdued
his easy banter.
“What news ?” she asked.
“None,” rather despondingly. “I’m sorry. I had hoped
by this time to get somewhere. But it happens that I
can’t get any farther than this house.”
1 She did not ask him what he meant by that.
“Shall I play something for you?” she said.
“Please.”
He drew a chair beside the Piano and watched her fin-
gers, white as the ivory keys, flutter up and down the
board. She played Chopin for him, Mendelssohn, Grieg
and Chaminade; and she played them in a surprisingly
scholarly fashion. He had expected the usual schoolgirl
choice and execution; fl‘itania, the Moonlight Sonata
(which not half a dozen great pianists have ever played
correctly), Monastery Bells, and the like. He had pre-


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 57
pared to make a martyr of himself ; instead, he was dis—
tinctly and delightfully entertained.
“You don’t,” he said whimsically, when she finally
stopped, “you don’t, by any chance, know The Maiden’s
Prayer?”
She laughed. This piece was a standing joke at school.
, “I have never played it. It may, however, be in the
cabinet. Would you like to hear it ?” mischievously.
“Heaven forfend l” he murmured, raising his hands.
All the while the letter burned against her heart, and
the smile on her face and the gaiety on her tongue were
forced. “Confide in no one,” she repeated mentally, “or
you seal my death warrant.”
“Why do you shake your head like that?” he asked.
“Did I shake my head?” Her heart fluttered wildly.
“I was not conscious of it.”
“Are you going to keep your promise?”
“What promise?”
“Never to leave this house without Jones or myself
being with you.”
“I couldn’t if I wanted to. I’ll wager Jones is out there
in the hall this minute. I know; it is all for my sake.
But it bothers me.”
Jones was indeed in the hall, and when he sensed the
petulance in her voice his shoulders sank despondently
and he sighed deeply if silently.
At a quarter to eight Florence, being alone for a min-
ute, set fire to a veil and stuffed it down the register.
“Jones,” she called excitedly, “I smell something burn-
ing !”
Jones dashed into the room, sniffed, and dashed out
again, heading for the cellar door. His first thought was


58 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
naturally that the devils incarnate had set fire to the
house. When he returned, having, of course, discovered
no fire, he found Florence gone. He rushed into the hall.
Her hat was missing. He made for the hall door with a
speed which seemed incredible to the bewildered Susan’s
eyes. Out into the street, up and down which he looked.
Far away he discovered a dwindling taxicab. The child
was gone.
In the house Susan was answering the telephone, talk-
ing incoherently.
“Who is it?” Jones whispered, his lips white and dry.
“The countess. . . .” began Susan.
He took the receiver from her roughly.
“Hello, who is it?”
“This is Olga Perigoff. Is Florence there ?”
“N o, madam. She has just stepped out for a moment.
Shall I tell her to call you when she returns?”
“Yes, please. I want her and Susan and Mr. Norton
to come to tea to-morrow. Good-by.”
Jones hung up the receiver, sank into a chair near by
and buried his face in his hands.
“What is it?” cried Susan, terrified by the haggardness
of his face.
“She’s gone! My God, those wretches have got her!
They’ve got her!”
Florence was whirled away at top speed. Her father !'
She was actually on the way to her father, whom she had
always loved in dreams, yet never seen.
Number 78 Grove Street was not an attractive place,
but when she arrived she was too highly keye'd to take
note of its sordidness. She was rather out of breath
when she reached the door of the third fiat. She knocked
timidly. The door was instantly opened by a man who





“WHO IS IT?” WHISPERED JONES, HIS LIPS WHITE AND DRY


-v
‘v


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 59
wore a black mask. She would have turned then and
there and flown but for the swift picture she had of a
well-dressed man at a table. He lay_with his head upon
his arms.
“Father!” she whispered.
The man raised his careworn face, so very well done
jthat only the closest scrutiny would have betrayed the
paste of the theater. He arose and staggered toward her
with outstretched arms. But the moment they closed
about her Florence experienced a peculiar shiver.
“My child !” murmured the broken man. “They caught
me when I was about to come to you. I have given up the
fight”
Asob choked him.
What was it? wondered the child, her heart burning
with the misery of the thought that she was sad instead
of glad. Over his shoulder she sent a glance about the
room. There was a sofa, a table, some chairs and an
enormous clock, the face of which was dented and the
hands hopelessly tangled. Why, at such a moment, she
should note such details disturbed her. Then she chanced
to look into the cracked mirror. In it she saw several
faces, all masked. These men were peering at her through
the half-closed door behind her.
“You must return home and bring me the money,” went
on the wretch who dared to perpetrate such a mockery.
“It is all that stands between me and death.”
Then she knew! The insistent daily warnings came
home to her. She understood now. She had deliberately
walked into the spider’s net. But instead of terror an
extraordinary calm fell upon her.
“Very well, father, I will go and get it.” Gently she
released herself from those horrible arms.


60 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
“Wait, my child, till I see if they will let you go. They
may wish to hold you as hostage.”
When he was gone she tried the doors. They were
locked. Then she crossed over to the window and looked
out. A leap from there would kill her. She turned her
gaze toward the lamp, wondering.
The false father returned, dejectedly.
“It is as I said. They insist upon sending some one.
Write down the directions I gave to you. I am very
weak l”
“Write down the directions yourself, father; you know
them better than I.” Since she saw no escape, she was
determined to keep up the tragic farce no longer.
“I am not your father.”
“So I see,” she replied, still with the amazing calm.
Braine, in the other room, shook his head savagely.
Father and daughter; the same steel in the nerves. Could
they bend her? Would they break her? He did not wish
to injure her bodily, but a million was always a million,
and there was revenge which was worth more to him than
the money itself. He listened, motioning to the others to
be silent.
“Write the directions,” commanded the scoundrel, who
discarded the broken-man style. 7'
“I know of no hidden money.”
“Then your father dies this night.” Grange put a
whistle to his lips. “Sign, write!”
“I refuse I”
“Once more. The moment I blow this whistle the men
in the other room will understand that your father is to
die. Be wise. Money is nothing—life is everything.”
“I refuse 1” Even as she had known this vile creature


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 61
to be an impostor so she knew that he lied, that her father
was still free.
Grange blew the whistle. Instantly the room became
filled with masked men. But Florence was ready. She
seized the lamp and hurled it to the floor, quite indifferent
whether it exploded or went out. Happily for her, it was
extinguished. At the same moment she cast the lamp she
caught hold of a chair, remembering the direction of the
window. She was superhumanly strong in this moment.
The chair went true. A crash followed.
“She has thrown herself out of the window !" yelled a.
voice.
Some one groped for the lamp, lit it and turned in time
to see Florence pass out of the room into that from which
they had come. The door slammed. The surprised men
heard the key click.
She was free. But she was no longer a child.


CHAPTER V
f‘ ONE l”
G Jones kept saying to himself that he must strive
to be calm, to think, think. Despite all his warnings, the
warnings of Norton, she had tricked. them and run away.
It was maddening. He wanted to rave, tear his hair,
break things. He tramped the hall. It would be wasting
time to send for the police. They would only putter about
fruitlessly./ The Black Hundred knew how to arrange
these abductions.
How had they succeeded in doing it? No one had en-
tered the house that day without his being present. There
had been no telephone call he had not heard the gist of,
nor any letters he had not first glanced over. How had
they done it? Suddenly into his mind flashed the remem-
brance of the candle-light under Florence’s door the night
before./ In a dozen bounds he was in her room, searching
drawers, paper boxes, baskets. He found nothing. He
'returned in despair to Susan, who, during all this turmoil,
had sat as if frozen in her chair.
“speak l” he cried. “For God’s sake, say something,
' think something! Those devils are likely to torture her,
hurt her!” He leaned against the wall, his head on his
arm.
When he turned again he was calm. He walked with
62


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 63
bent head toward the door, opened it and stood upon the
threshold for a space. Across the street a shadow stirred,
but Jones did not see it. His gaze was attracted by some-
thing which shone dimly white on the walk just beyond
the steps. He ran to it. A crumpled letter, unaddressed.
He carried it back to the house, smoothed it out and read
its contents. Florence in her haste had dropped the
letter. '
He clutched at his hat, put it on ahd ran to Susan.
“Here!” he cried, holding out an automatic. “If any
one comes in that you don’t know, shoot! Don’t ask
questions, shoot l”
“I’m afraid l” She breathed with difficulty.
“Afraid P” he roared at her. He put the weapon in her
hand. It slipped and thudded to the floor. He stooped
for it and slammed it into her lap. “You love your life
and honor. You’ll know how to shoot when the time
comes. Now, attend to me. If I’m not back here by ten
o’clock, turn this note over to the police. If you can’t do
that, then God help us all l” And with that he ran from
the house.
Susan eyed the revolver with growing terror. For
what had she left the peace and quiet of Miss Farlow’s ;
assassination, robbery, thieves and kidnapers? She
wanted to shriek, but her throat was as dry as paper.
Gingerly she touched the pistol. The cold steel sent a
thrill of fear over her. He hadn’t told her how to
shoot it!
Two blocks down the street, up an alley, was the garage
wherein Hargreave had been wont to keep his car. To-
ward this Jones ran with the speed of a track athlete.
There might be half a dozen taxicabs about, but he would
not run the risk of engaging any of them. The Black


64 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
Hundred was capable of anticipating his every move-
ment.
The shadow across the street stood undecided. At
length he concluded to give Jones ten minutes in which to
return. If he did not return in that time, the watcher
would go up to the drug store and telephone for instruc-
tions.
But Jones did not come back.
“Where’s Howard?” he demanded.
“Hello, Jones; what’s up ?”
“Howard, get that car out at once.”
“Out she comes. Wait till I give her radiator a bucket
of water. Gee!” whispered Howard, whom Hargreave
often used as his chauffeur, “get on to his nibs! First
time I ever saw him awake. I wonder what’s doing?
You never know what’s back of those mummy-faced
head waiters. . . . All right, Jones !”
The chauffeur jumped into the car and Jones took the
seat beside him.
“Where to ?”
“Number 78 . . .” and the rest of it trailed away,
smothered in the violent thunder of the big six’s engines.
During the car’s flight several policemen hailed it with-
out success. Down this street, up that, round this corner,
fifty miles an hour; and all the while Jones shouted:
“Faster, faster!” -
Within twelve minutes from the time it left the garage,
vthe car stopped opposite 78 Grove Street, and Jones got
out.
“Wait here, Howard. If several men come rushing
out, or I don’t appear within ten minutes, fire your gun a
couple of times for the police. I don’t want them if we
can manage without. They’d only bungle.”


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 65
“All right, Mr. Jones,” said the chauffeur. He had, in
the past quarter of an hour, acquired a deep and lasting
respect for the butler chap. He was a regular fellow, for
all his brass buttons.
As Jones reached the curb, Florence came forth as if on
invisible wings. Jones caught her by the arm. She flung
him aside with a strength he had not dreamed existed in
her slim body.
“Florence, I am Jones!”
She stopped, recognized him, and without a word ran
across the street to the automobile and climbed into the
tonneau. Jones followed immediately.
“Home l”
/The car shot up the dimly lighted street, shone palely
for a second under the corner lamp, and vanished.
“Ah, child, child !” groaned the man at her side, all the
tenseness gone from his body. He was Jones again.
Still she did not speak, but stared ahead with unseeing
eyes.
N 0 further reproach fell from the butler’s lips. It was-
enough that God had guided him to her at the appointed:
moment. He felt assured that never again would she be
drawn into any trap. Poor child! What had they said to
her, done to her? How, in God’s name, had she escaped
from them who never let anybody escape? Presently she
would become normal, and then she would tell him.
“I found the lying note. You dropped it.”
“Horrible, horrible l” she said almost inaudibly.
“What did they do to you?”
“He said he was my father. . . . He put his arms
around me. . . _ . And I knew!”
“Knew what?”
“That he lied. I can’t explain.”
I


66 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
‘iDoth !”
Suddenly she laid her head against the butler’s shoulder
and cried. It was terrible to hear youth weep in this
fashion. Jones put his arm about her and tried to console
her. -
. “Horrible!” she murmured between the violent hic-
jcoughs. “I was wrong, wrong! Forgive me!”
Unconsciously the arm sustaining her drew her closer.
“Never mind,” he consoled. “Tell no one what has
happened. Go about as usual. Don’t let even Susan
know. Whatever your poor father did was for your
sake. He wanted you to be happy, without a care in the
world.”
“I promise.” And gradually the sobs ceased. “But I
feel so old, Jones, so very old. I threw over the lamp. I
threw a chair through the window. They thought that it
was I who had jumped out. That gave me the necessary
time. I don’t understand how I did it. I wasn’t fright-
ened at all till I gained the street.”
They found Susan still seated in the chair, the auto-
matic in her lap. She had not moved in all this time!
Braine paced the apartment of the Countess Perigoff.
From the living room to the boudoir and back, fully
twenty times. From the divan Olga watched him nerv-
iously. He was like a tiger, fresh in captivity. All at once
he paused in front of her.
“Do you realize what that mere chit did ?"
“I do.”
“Planned to the minute. We had her; seven of us;
doors locked, and all that. No weeping, no wailing; I
could not understand then, but I do now. It’s in the


Vv_ ... a“ .wr-r,” _
F


HE READ . . . FLORENCE . . . THE HIDING-PLACE IS DISCOVERED





THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 67
blood. Hargreave was as peaceful as a St. Bernard dog
till you cornered him, and then he was a lion. Oh, the
devil! Slipped out of our fingers like an eel. And across
the street, Jones in a racer! I never paid any particular
attention to Jones, but from now on I shall. The girl may
or may not know where the money is, but Jones does, /
Jones does! Two men shall watch. F elton on the street
and Orloif from the windows of the deserted house.
With opera glasses he will be able to take note of all that
happens in the house during the day./ He will be able to
see the girl’s room. And that’s the important point. It
was a good plan, little woman; and it wouki/lhave been
plain sailing if only we had remembered that the girl was
Hargreave’s daughter. Be very careful hereafter when
you call on her. A night like this will have'made her sus-
picious of every one. Our hope lies with you. Anything
on your mi. .1 ?”
“Yes. \IV my not insert a personal in the H erald .9” She
drew some writing paper toward her and scribbled a few
words. ' I
He read: “Florence——the hiding place is discovered.
Remove it to a more secret spot at once. S. H.”—He
laughed and shook his head. “I’m afraid that will never
do.”
“If she reads it, Jones will. The man with the opera
glasses may see something. There’s a chance Jones might
become worried.”
“Well, we’ll give it a chance.”
It was midnight when he made his departure. As he
stepped into the street, he glanced about cautiously. On
the corner he saw a policeman swinging his night stick.
Otherwise the street was deserted. Braine proceeded
jauntily down the street.
'.


68 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
And yet, from the darkened doors of the house across
the way, the figure of a man emerged and stood contem-
plating the windows of the Perigotf apartment. Suddenly
the lights went out. The watcher made no effort to fol-
low Braine. The knowledge he was after did not necessi-
tate any such procedure.
/' Of course, Florence read the “personal.” She took the
newspaper at once to Jones, who smiled grimly.
“You see, I trust you.”
“And so long as you continue to trust me no harm will
befall you. You were left in my care by your father. I
-.am to guard you at the expense of my life. Last night’s
affair was a miracle. The next time you will not find it
so easy to escape.”
Nor did she.
“There will be no next time,” gravely. “But I am go-
ing to ask you a direct question. Is my father alive?”
The butler’s brow puckered. “I have promised to say
nothing, one way or the other.”
She laughed.
“Why do you laugh ?”
“I laugh because if he were dead there would be no
earthly reason for your not saying so at once. But I hate
money, the name of it, the sound of it, the sight of it. It
is at the bottom of all wars and crimes. I despise it l”
“The root of all evil. Yet it performs many noble
deeds. But never mind the money. Let us give our
.attention to this personal. Doubtless it originated in the
:same mind which conceived the letter. Your father would
never have inserted such a personal. What! Give his
enemies a chance to learn his secret? No. On the other
hand, I want you to show this personal to all you meet
ito-day, Susan, the reporter, to everybody. Talk about it.


ZOHH<NHZ<UHO NEH ho UZuHHHE 4 w<>> gun. HNUHZ H<NH


III," |
at 1;.
4‘0


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 69
0
Say that you wonder what you shall do. Trust no one
with your real thoughts.”
“Not even you, Mr. Jones,” thought the girl as she
nodded.
“And tell them that you showed it to me and that I
appeared worried.”
That night there was a meeting of the organization
called the Black Hundred. Braine asked if any one knew
what the Hargreave butler looked like.
“I had a glimpse of him the other night; but being un-
prepared, I might not recognize him again.”
Vroon described Jones minutely. Braine could almost
see the portrait.
“Vroon, that memory of yours is worth a lot of
money,” was his only comment.
“I hope it will be worth more soon.”
“I believe I’ll be able to recognize Mr. Jones if I see
him. Who is he and what is he?”
“He has been with Hargreave for fourteen years.
There was a homicidal case in which Jones was active.
Hargreave saved him. He is faithful and uncommuni-
cative. Money will not touch him. If he does know
where that million is, hot irons could not make him own
up to it. The only way is to watch him, follow him, wait
for the moment when he’ll grow careless. No man is
always on his mettle; he lets up sooner or later.”
“He is being watched, as you know.”
Vroon nodded approvingly. “The captain of the tramp
steamer Orient, by the way, was seen with a roll of
money. He was in one of the water-front saloons, brag-
ging how he had hoodwinked some one.”
“Did he say where he’d got the cash P” asked Braine.
“They tried to pump him on that, but he shut up. Well,


70 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
we have agreed that Felton shall watch from the street
and Orlofi from the window. Orlofi will whistle if he
sees Jones removing anything from any of the rooms.
The rest will be left to Felton.”
“And, Felton, my friend,” said Braine softly—he
always spoke softly when he was in a deadly humor—
“Felton, you slept on duty the other night. Hargreave
stole up, consulted Jones, and got away after knocking me
down. The next failure will mean short shift. Be
warned l”
“I saw only you, sir. So help me. I was not asleep. I
saw you run down the street after the taxicab. I did not
see any one else.”
Braine shrugged. “Remember what I said.”
Felton bowed respectfully and made his exit. He
wished in his soul that he might some day catch the mas—
ter mind free of his eternal mask. It was an iron hand
which ruled them and there were friends of his (Fel-
ton’s) who had mysteriously vanished after a brief period
of rebellion. The boss was a swell; probably belonged to
clubs and society which he adroitly pilfered. The organ-
ization always had money. Whenever there was a des-
perate job to be undertaken, Vroon simply poured out the
money necessary to promote it. IWhenever Braine and
Vroon became engaged in earnest conversation they
talked Slav. Braine was never called by namehere ; the,
boss, simply that.
Well, ten per cent. of a million was a hundred thousand.
This would be equally divided between the second ten of
the Black Hundred. Another ten per cent. would go to
eighty members; the balance would be divided between
Vroon and the boss. / But his soul rebelled at being or-
dered about like so much dirt under another man’s feet.


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 71
He would take his ten' thousand and make the grand get-
away.
The next afternoon the countess called upon Florence-
Nothing was said about the adventure, and this fact cre—
ated a vague unrest in the scheming woman’s mind. She
realized that she must play her cards more carefully thanv
ever. Not the least distrust must be permitted to enter
the child’s head. Once that happened good—by to the.
wonderful emeralds. Was it that she really craved the-
stone? Was it not rather a venom acquired from the-
knowledge that this child’s mother had won what she-
herself, with all her cleverness, was not sure of—Braine’s
love? Did he really care for her or was she only the cats-
paw to pluck his hot chestnuts from the fire?
When Florence showed her the “personal,” her vague
doubts' became instantly dissipated. The child would not
have shown her the newspaper had there been any dis-
trust on her part.
“My child, your father is alive, then?” animatedly.
“We don’t know,” sadly.
“Why, I should say that this proves it.”
“On the contrary, it proves nothing of the sort, since I
have yet to discover a treasure in this house. I have
hunted in every nook, drawer; I’ve searched for panels,
looked in trunks for false bottoms. Nothing, nothing!
Ah, if I could only find it l”
“And what would you do with it?”
“Take it at once to some bank and offer the whole
of it for the safe return of my father, every penny of it.
I don’t know what to do, which way to turn,” tears gath-
ering in her eyes and they were genuine tears, too.
“There are millions in stocks and bonds and I can not
touch a penny of it because the legal documents have not


72 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
been found. I can’t even prove that I am his daughter,
except for half an old bracelet, and my father's lawyers
say that that would not hold in any court.”
“You were born in St. Petersburg, my dear. Have the
embassy there look up the birth registers.”
“That would not put me into possession. Nothing but
'the return of my father will avail me. And there’s a
horrible thought always of my not being his real daugh-
ter.”
“There’s no doubt in my mind. I have only to recall
Katrina’s face to know whose child you are. But what
will you live on ?” Here was a far greater mixup than
she had calculated upon. Supposing after all it was only
a resemblance, that the child was not Hargreave’s, a sub-
stitute just to blind the Black Hundred? To keep them
away from the true daughter? Her mind grew bewil—
dered over such possibilities. The single and only way
to settle all doubts was to make this child a prisoner. If '
she was Hargreave’s true daughter he would come out of
his hiding.
She heard Florence answering her question: “There
is a sum of ten or twelve thousand in the Riverdale bank,
under the control of my father’s butler. After that is
gone, I don’t know what will happen to us, Susan and
me.”
“The door of Miss Farlow’s will always be open to
you, Florence,” replied Susan, with love in her eyes.
This interesting conversation was interrupted by the
advent of Norton. He was always dropping in during
the late afternoon hours. Florence liked him for two rea-
sons. One was that Jones trusted him to a certain ex—
tent and the other was that . . . that she liked him.
She finished this sentence in her heart defiantly.


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 73
To-day he brought her a box of beautiful roses, and at
the sight of them the countess smiled faintly. Set the
wind in that quarter? She could have laughed. Here
was her revenge against this meddler who took no par-
ticular notice of her while Florence was in the room. She
would encourage him, poor grubbing newspaper writer,
' with his beggarly pittance! What chance had he of mar-
rying this girl with millions within reach of her hand?
The peculiar thing about this was that Norton was en-
tertaining the same thought at the same time: what
earthly chance had he?
In the second-story window of the house over the way
there was a worried man. But when his glasses brought
in range the true contents of the box he laughed sar-
donically. “This watching is getting my goat. I smell a
rat every time I see a shadow.” He wiped the lenses of
his opera glasses and proceeded to roll a cigarette.
I When the countess and Norton went away Jones stole
quietly up to Florence’s room and threw up the curtain.
Two round points of light flashed from the watcher’s -
window, but the satumine smile on Jones’ lips was not
observed. He went to the door, opened it cautiously,
a hand to his ear. Then he closed the door, turned back
the rug and removed a section of the flooring. Out of
this cavity he raised a box. There was lettering on the
lid; in fact, the name of its owner, Stanley Hargreave.
- Jones replaced the flooring, tucked the box under his arm
and made his exit.
The man lounging in the shadow heard a faint whistle.
It was the signal agreed upon. The man Felton ran across
the street and boldly rang the bell. It was only then that
Florence missed the ever present butler. She hesitated,
then sent Susan to the door.


74 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
"I must see Mr. Jones upon vitally important busi~
ness.”
“He has gone out,” said Susan, and very sensibly-
closed the door before Felton’s foot succeeded in getting
inside.
:1 It was time to act. He ran around to the rear. The
ladder convinced him that Jones had tricked him. He
was wild with rage. He was over the wall in an instant.
Away down the back street his eye discovered his man
in full flight. He gave chase. As he came to the first
corner he was nearly knocked over by a man coming
the other way.
“Who are you bumping into P” growled Felton.
“Not so fast, Felton!”
“Who the devil are you P”
The stranger made a sign which F elton instantly rec-
ognized.
“Quick! What has happened P”
“Jones has the million and is making his getaway. See
him hiking toward the water front P”
The two men began to run.
There followed a thrilling chase. Jones engaged a
motorboat and it was speeding seaward when the two
pursuers arrived. They were not laggard. There was
another boat and they made for it.
“A hundred if you overtake that boat,” said Felton’s
strange companion.
Felton eyed him thoughtfully. There was something
familiar about that voice.
Great plumes of water shot up into the air. It did
not prove a short race by any means. It took half an
hour for the pursuer to overhaul the pursued.
“Is that Jones P”




JONES ENGAGED A moron BOAT


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THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 75
“Yes.” Felton fired his revolver into the air in hopes
of terrifying Jones’ engineer; but there was five hundred
dangling before that individual’s eyes.
“Let them get a little nearer,” shouted the butler.
The engineer let down the speed a notch. The other
boat crept up within twenty yards. Jones sought a per-
fect range. He would have to find this spot again.
“Surrender!” yelled Felton.
In reply Jones raised the precious box and deliberately
dropped it into the sea. Then he turned his automatic
upon his pursuers and succeeded in setting their boat
afire.
All this within the space of an hour. During dinner
that night (there was now a cook) Jones walked about
the dining—table, rubbing his hands together from time
to time.
“Jones,” said Florence, “why do you rub your hands
like that?”
“Was I rubbing my hands, Miss Florence?” he asked
innocently.


CHAPTER ,VI
“DID you get the range P” asked the countess, when
late that night Braine recounted his adventure.
“Range!” he snarled. “My girl, haven’t I just told
you that I had to fight for my life? My boat was in
flames. We had to swim for it till we were picked up
by a Long Island barge tug. I don’t know what became
of the motorman. He must have headed straight for
shore. And I’m glad he did. Otherwise he’d be howling
for the price of another boat. Olga, for the first time
I’ve had to let one of the boys have a look at my face.
Doesn’t know the name; but one of these days he’ll
stumble across it, and the result will be blackmail, unless
I push him off into the dark. It was accidental.”
The countess leaned forward, her hands tightly
clinched.
“But the box!”
Braine made a gesture of despair.
“Leo, are you using any drug these days P”
“Don’t make fun of me, Olga,” impatiently. “Did
you ever see me drink more than a pint of wine or smoke.
more than two cigars in an evening? Poor fools! What!
Let my brain go into the wastebasket for the sake of an
hour or so of exhilaration? No, and never will I! I’m
keen about the gray matter I’ve got, and by the Lord
Harry, I’m going to keep it. There’s only one dope
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THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 77
fiend in the Hundred, and he’s one of the best decoys we
have; so we let him have his coke whenever he really
needs it. But this man Felton has seen my face. Some
day he’ll see it again, ask questions, and then . . .”
“Then what?”
“A burial at sea,” he laughed. The laughter died
swifty as it came. “Threw it into eight hundred feet of
water, on a bar where the sands are always shifting.
He’ll never find it, even if he took the range. He could
not have got a decent one. The sun was dropping and
the shadows were long. He threw the chest into the
water and then began pegging away at us, cool as you
please, and fired our tank.”
“It looks to me as if he had wasted his time.”
“That depends. Between you and me and the gate-
post, I’ve a sneaking idea that this man Jones, whom
nobody has given any particular attention, is a deep,
clever man. He may have been honestly attempting to
find a new hiding place; the advertisement in the news-
paper may have drawn him. He may have thrown the
box over in pure rage at seeing himself checkmated.
Again, the whole thing may have been worked up for
our benefit, a blind. But if that’s the case, Jones has us
on the hip, for we can’t tell. But we can do what in all
probability he expects we’ll cease to do—watch him just
{as shrewdly as before.”
Olga caught his hand and drew him' down beside her.
“I wasn’t going to bother you to-night, but it may mean
something vital.”
“What?” alertly.
For reply she rose and walked over to the light button.
She pressed it and the apartment became dark.
“Come over to the window, quick 1” She dragged him
a!


78 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
across the room. “Over the way, the house with the
marble frontage.”
A man emerged, lit a cigarette, and walked leisurely
down the street.
“N o !” she cried, as Braine turned to make for the door
doubtless with the intention of finding out who the man
was. “Every night after you leave he appears.”
“Does he follow me?”
“No. And that’s what bothered me at first. I be-
lieved he was watching some apartment above. But reg—
ularly when I turn out the lights he comes forth. So
there’s no doubt he watches you enter and takes note of
your departure.”
“But doesn’t follow me. That’s odd. W hat the devil
is his idea ?”
“I’d give a good deal to learn.”
The shadow and the glowing cigarette disappeared
around the corner, and the lights in the apartment were
turned on again.
“He’s gone. You really think he’s watching me ?”
“He is watching this apartment, I know that much.”
And even at that moment the watcher was watching
from his vantage behind the corner.
“Suspicious!” he murmured, tossing the cigarette into
the gutter. “They’re watching me for a change. I’ll drop
out. I know what I know. It’s a great world. It’s fine
to be alive and kicking on top of it.” He went on with-
out haste and took the subway train for down-town.
“Is there any way I could get near him?” asked
Braine. .
“To—morrow night you might leave by the janitor’s
entrance. I’ll keep the lights on till you’re outside. Then


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 79
I’ll turn them off and you can follow and learn who
he is.”
“It’s mighty important.”
“Don’t scowl. At your age a wrinkle is apt to remain if
you once get it started.”
He laughed. “Wrinkles!” She could talk of wrinkles!
“They are more important than you think. Every
morning I rub out the wrinkle I go to bed with.”
“I wish you could rub out the general stupidity which
is wrinkling my brain. I’ve made three moves and failed
in each. What’s come over me P”
“Perhaps you’ve had too many successes. The wheel
of chance is always turning around.” '
“May I smoke P”
“Thanks. At least it proves you still have some con-
sideration for me. You would smoke whether it was
agreeable or not. But I like the odor of a good cigar.
And it always helps you to think.”
Braine lighted his cigar and began his customary pac-
ing. At length he paused.
“Suppose we have a real old-fashioned coaching party
out to the old mansion we know about P”
“And what shall we do there P”
“Make the mansion an enchanted castle where some-
times people who enter can’t get out. Do you think you
could get her to go P”
“I can try.”
“Olga, I must have that girl; and I must have her
soon. Sometimes I find myself mightily puzzled over
the whole thing. If Hargreave is alive, why doesn’t he
turn up now that it’s practically known that his daughter
presides over his household? I might understand it if


80 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
I didn’t know that Hargreave is really afraid of nothing.
Where is the man with the five thousand, picked up at
sea? What was the reason for Jones carrying that box
out in broad daylight? Who is the chap watching across
the street? Sometimes I believe in my soul—if I have
one l—that Hargreave is playing with us, playing! Well,”
flinging the half consumed cigar into the grate, “the
Black Hundred always goes forward, win or lose, and
never forgets.”
“We are a fine pair l” said the woman bitterly.
“We are exactly what fate intended us to be. They
wrote you down in the book as a beautiful body with a
crooked mind. They wrote me down as the devil, doomed
to roam the earth’s top till I’m killed."
“Killed P”
“Why, yes. I’m not the kind of chap who dies in bed,
surrounded by the weeping members of the family, doc-
tor, nurse, and priest. I’m a scoundrel; but it has this
saving grace, I enjoy being the scoundrel. Now, I’m
going up to the club. There’s nothing like a game of
billiards or chess to smooth that wrinkle vshich seems to
worry you.”
In the great newspaper office there was a mighty
racket. Midnight always means pandemonium in the city
room of a metropolitan daily. Copy boys were rushing
to and fro, messengers and printers with sticky galleys
in their hands; reporters were banging away at their
typewriters, and intermingling you could hear the cease-
less clickety-click from the telegraph room.
The managing editor came out of his office and ap-
proached the desk of the night city editor.
“Editorial page gone down P”
“Twenty minutes ago,” said the night city editor.


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 81
“I wanted a stick on that Panama rumpus.”
“Too late.”
“Where’s Jim Norton?”
“At the chamber of commerce banquet. The major
is going to throw a bomb into the enemy’s camp.”
“Nothing on the Hargreave stuff ?”
“N 0. Guess I’d better put that in the cubbyhole. He’s
dead.”
“No will found yet ?”
“Not a piece as big as a postage stamp.”
“That will leave the girl in a tough place. No will,
no birth certificate; and, worst of all, no photograph of
the old man himself. I don’t see why Jim sidestepped
this affair. He is the only man in town who knew any-
thing about Hargreave.”
“He hasn’t given it up; but he wants to cover it on
his own, turn the yarn over when he’s got it, no false
alarms.”
“Ah! So that’s the game?”
“Yes”; and Jim is the sort every paper needs. When
the time comes the story turns up, if there is one. Here
he is now. Looks like an actor in the fourth act of a
drama. Good-looking chap, though.”
Norton came in through the outer gates. He was in
evening clothes, top hat. A dead cigarette dangled be-
tween his lips.
“How much do you want?” asked the night city editor.
“Column and a half.”
“Off with your glad rags !”
“Anything good?” asked the managing editor.
“The lid has been jammed on tight. No wine in any
restaurant after one o’clock. There’ll be a roundup of
every gunman in town.”


82 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
“Good work! Go to it.”
It was one o’clock when Norton turned in his last sheet
of copy and started for home. Just outside the entrance
to the building a man with a slouch hat drawn down over
his eyes stepped forward.
“Mr. Norton ?”
“Yes.” Norton stepped back suspiciously.
The other chuckled, raised and lowered his hat swiftly.
“Good lord l” murmured the reporter.
“Will you take a ride with me in a taxi?”
“All the way to Syracuse, if you say so. Well, I’ll be
tinker d—d l”
“No names, please l”
What took place in that taxicab was never generally
known. But at ten o’clock the next morning Norton
surprised the elevator boy by going out. Norton pro-
ceeded down-town to the national bank, where he depos-
ited $5,000 in bills of large denominations. The teller
had some difficulty in counting them. They stuck to-
gether and retained the sodden appearance of money re-
cently submerged in water.
Florenc‘e was delighted at the idea of a coaching party.
Often during her schoolgirl days she had seen the fash-
ionable coaches go careening along the road, with the
sharp, clear note of the bugle rising above the thunder
of hoofs and rattling of wheels. Jones was not enthusi-
astic; neither was he a killjoy.
“But you are to go along, too,” said Florence.
“I, Miss Florence ?”
“The countess invited you especially. You will go
with a hamper.” '


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 83
“Ah, in my capacity as butler; very good, Miss Flor-
ence.” To her he gave no sign of his secret great satis-
faction.
The hour arrived, and the gay party bowled away.
They wound in and out of the streets toward the country
to the crack of the whip and the blare of the horn. Flor-
ence’s enjoyment would have been perfect had it not
been for the absence of Norton. Why hadn’t he been
invited? She did not ask because she did not care to
disclose to the countess her interest in the reporter. They
were nearing the limits of the city, when the coach was
forced to take a sharp turn to avoid an automobile in
trouble. The man puttering at the engine raised his head.
It was Norton, and Florence waved her hand vigorously.
“A coaching party,” he murmured; “and your Uncle
James was not invited! Oh, very well!” He laughed,
and suddenly grew serious. It would not hurt to find
out where that coach was going.
He set to work savagely, located the trouble, righted
it, and set off for the Hargreave home. He found Susan
and bombarded her with questions which to Susan came
with the rapidity of rain upon the roof.
“So Jones went along?”
“In his capacity of butler only.” “
Norton smiled. “Well, I’ll take a jaunt out there my-
,self. You are sure of the location ?”
“Yes.”
“Well, good-by. I’ll go as a waiter, since they wouldn’t
invite me. I’m one of the best little waiters you ever
heard of ; and all things come to him who waits.”
What a pleasant, affable young man he was! thought
Susan as she watched him jump into the car and go
flying up the-street.
I


8“ THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
Jones was a good deal surprised when Norton turned
up at the old Chilton manor.
“What made you come here dressed like this P” the but-
ler demanded.
“I’m a suspicious duffer; maybe that’s the reason.”
“Do you know anything?”
“Well, no; I can’t say that I do. But, hang it, I just
had to come out here.”
“Maybe it’s just as well you did,” said Jones moodily.
“I know this place. The housekeeper used to be my
nurse, and if she is still on the job she may be of service
to us. You don’t think they’ll question or recognize me P”
“Hardly. I’ll put in a word for you. I’ll say I sent
for you, not knowing if we had enough servants to take
care of the luncheon.”
“And now I’ll go and hunt up Meg.”
Sure enough, his old nurse was still in charge of the
house; and when her “baby” disclosed his identity she all
but fell upon his neck.
“But what are you doing here, dressed up as a waiter P”
“It’s a little secret, Meg. I wasn’t invited, and the
truth is I’m very desperately in love with the young lady
in whose honor this coaching party is being given. And
. . . maybe she’s in danger.”
“Danger? What about P”
“The Lord only knows. But show me about the house.
I’ve not been here in so long I’ve forgotten the run of
it. I remember one room with the secret panel and an-
other with a painting that turned. Have they changed
them P”
“No; it is just the same here as it used to be. Come
along and I’ll show you.”
Norton inspected the rooms carefully, stowing away


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 85
in his mind every detail. He might be worrying about
nothing; but so many strange things had happened that
it was better to be on the side of caution than on the
side of carelessness. He left the house and ran across
Jones carrying a basket of wine.
“Here, Norton; take this to the party. I want to rec-
onnoiter.”
“All right, m’lud! Say, Jones, how much do you think
I’d earn at this job P” comically.
“Get along with you, Mr. Norton. It may be the time
to laugh, and then it may not.”
“I’m going back into the house and hide behind a secret
panel. I’ve got_my revolver. You go to the stables and
take a try at my car; see if she works smoothly. We may
have to do some hiking. Where is the countess in this P”
“Leave that to me, Mr. Norton,” said the butler with
his grim smile. “Be off; they are moving back toward
the house.”
50 Norton carried the basket around to the lawn,
where it was taken from his hands by the regular servant.
He sighed as he saw Florence, laughing and chatting
_ W’ith a man who was a stranger and whom he heard
/addressed as count. Some friend of the countess, no
doubt. Where was all this tangle going to end? He
wished he knew. And what a yarn he was going to write
some day! It would read like one of Gaboriau’s tales.
He turned away to wander idly about the grounds, when
beyond a clump of cedars he saw three or four men
conversing slowly. He got as near as possible, for when
three or four men put their heads together and whisper
animatedly, it usually means a poker game or something
worse. He caught a phrase or two as they came down
.. the wind, and then he knew that the vague suspicion


86 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
that had brought him out here had been set in motion by
fate. He heard “Florence” and “the old drawing room ;"
and that was enough.
He scurried about for Jones. It was pure luck that
he had had old Meg show him through the house, other-
ywise he would have forgotten all about the secret panel
in the wall and the painting. Jones shrugged resignedly.
Were these men of the countess’ party? Norton couldn’t
say.
Norton made his hiding place in safety; and by and
by he could hear the guests moving about in the room.
Then all sounds ceased for a while. A door closed
sharply.
“No; here you must stay, young lady,” said a man’s
voice.
“What do you mean, sir ?” demanded the beloved voice.
“It means that no one will return to this room and that
you will not be missed until it is too late.”
The sound of voices stopped abruptly, and something
like scuflling ensued. Later Norton heard the back of
a chair strike the panel and some one sat heavily upon
it. He waited perhaps five minutes; then he gently slid
back the panel. Florence sat bound and gagged under
his very eyes. It was but the work of a moment to lib-
erate her.
“It is I, Jim. Do not speak or make the least noise.
Follow me.”
Greatly astonished, Florence obeyed; and the panel
slipped back into place. The room behind the secret
panel had barred windows. To Florence it appeared to
be a real prison.
“How did you get here?” she asked breathlessly.





THE SECRET PANEL


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THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 87
“Something told me to follow you. And something is
always going to tell me to follow you, Florence.”
She pressed his hand. It was to her as if one of those
book heroes had stepped out of a book; only book heroes '
always had tremendous fortunes and did not have to
work for a living. Oddly enough, she was not afraid.
“Who was the man P” he asked.
“The Count Norfeldt. Some one has imposed upon
the countess.”
“Do you think so?” with a strange look in his eyes.
“What do you mean P”
“Nothing just now. The idea is to get out of here
just as quickly as we can. See this painting?” He
touched a spot in the wall and the painting slowly swung-
out like a door. “Come; we make our escape to the side-
lawn from here.”
At the stable they were confronted with the knowledge
that Norton’s car was out of commission; Jones could
do nothing with it. Then Norton suggested that he make-
an effort to commandeer the limousine of the countess;
but there were men about, so the limousine was out of the
question.
“Horses!” whispered Jones. “There are several sad-
dle horses, already saddled. How about these people, the
owners P”
“Oh, they are beyond reproach. They have doubtless
been imposed upon. But let us get aboard first. There
will be time to talk later. I’ll have to do some explain-
ing, taking these nags off like this. We won’t have to
ride out in front where the p'icnickers are. There’s a
lane back of the stable, and a slight détour brings us back
into the main road.”


8o THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
The three mounted and clattered away. To Florence
it had the air of a prank. She was beginning to have
such confidence in these two inventive men that she felt
as if she was never going to be afraid any more.
When the Countess Olga saw the three horses it was
“an effort not to fly into a rage. But secretly she warned
her people, who presently gave chase in the limousine,
while she prattled and jested and laughed with her com-
pany, who were quite unaware that a drama was being
enacted right under their very noses. The countess, while
she acted superbly, tore her handkerchief into shreds.
There was something sinister in the way all their plans
fell through at the very moment of consummation; and
that night she determined to ask Braine to withdraw from
this warfare, which gradually decimated their numbers
without getting anywhere toward the goal. ‘
Jones shouted that the limousine was tearing down the ’
road. Something must be done to stop it. He suggested
that he drop behind, leave his horse, and take a chance
at potting a tire from the shrubbery at the roadside.
“Keep going. Don’t stop, Norton, till you are back
in town. I’ll manage to take good care of myself.”


CHAPTER VII
HEN all three finally met at the Hargreave home
Florence suddenly took Jones by the shoulders
and kissed him lightly on the cheek. Jones started back,
pale and disturbed. '
Norton laughed. He did not feel the slightest twinge
of jealousy, but he was eaten up with envy, as the old
wives say.
“You are wondering if I suspect the Countess Peri—i
goff ?” said Jones.
“I am.” This man Jones was developing into a very
remarkable character. The reporter found himself side
glancing at the thin, keen face of this resourceful butler.
The lobe of the man’s left ear came within range. Nor-
ton reached for a cigarette, but his hands shook as he lit
it. There was a peculiar little scar in the center of the
lobe.
“Well,” said Jones, “I can find no evidence that she has
been concerned in any of these affairs.”
“You are suspicious ?” ‘
“Of everybody,” looking boldly into the reporter’s
eyes.
“Of me?” smiling.
“Even of myself sometimes.”
Conversation dropped entirely after this declaration.
“You’re a taciturn sort of chap.”
89


90 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
‘(Am I P],
“You are. But an agreement is an agreement, and
while I’d like to print this story, I’ll not. We newspaper
men seldom break our word.”
Jones held out his hand.
1 “Sometimes I wish I’d started life right,” said the re-
porter gloomily. “A newspaper man is generally im-
provident. He never looks ahead for to-morrow. What
with my special articles to the magazines, I earn between
four and five thousand the year; and I’ve never been
able to save a cent.”
“Perhaps you’ve never really tried,” replied Jones, with
.a glance at his companion. It was a good face, strong
in outline; a little careworn, perhaps, but free from any
indications of dissipation. “If I had begun life as you
did, I’d have made real and solid use of the great men
I met. I’d have made financiers help me to invest my
earnings, or savings, little as they might be. And to-day
I’d be living on theincome.”
“You never can tell. Perhaps a woman might have
made you think of those things; but if you had remained
unattached up to thirty-one, as I have, the thought of
saving might never have entered your head. A man
in my present condition, financially, has no right to think
of matrimony.”
“It might be the saving of you if you met and married
the right woman.”
“But the right woman might be heiress to millions. And
a poor devil like me could not marry a girl with money
and hang on to his self-respect.”
“True. But there are always exceptions to all rules
in life, except those regarding health. A healthy man
:is a normal man, and a normal man has no right to re-




W'ERE TOLD OFF
FOUR MEN





THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 91
main single. You proved yourself a man this afternoon,
considering that you did not know I occupied the wheel
seat. Come to think it over, you really saved the day.
You gave me the opportunity of steering straight for the
police station. Well, good-by.”
“Queer duck!” mused the reporter as, after telephon-
ing, he headed for his office. Queer duck, indeed! What
a game it was going to be! And this man Jones was
playing it like a master. It did not matter that some
one else laid down the rules; it was the way in which
they were interpreted.
Braine heard of the failure. The Black Hundred was
finding its stock far below par value. Four valuable men
locked up in the Tombs awaiting trial, to say nothing
of the seven gunmen gathered in at the old warehouse.
Braine began to suspect that his failures were less due
to chance than to calculation, that at last he had encoun-
tered a mind which anticipated his every move. He
would have recognized this fact earlier had it not been
that revenge had temporarily blinded him. The spirit
of revenge ever makes for mental clarity.
There was a meeting that night of the Black Hundred.
Four men were told off, and they drew their chairs up
to Vroon’s table for instructions. Braine sat at Vroon’s
elbow. These four men composed the most dangerous
quartet in New York City. They were as daring as they
lwere desperate. They were the men who held up bank
messengers and got away with thousands. They had
learned to swoop down upon their victims as the hawk
swoops down upon the heron. The newspapers referred
to them as the “auto bandits,” and the men took a deal
of pride in the furore they had created.
Vroon went over the Hargreave case minutely; he left


92 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
no detail unexplained. Bluntly and frankly, the daughter
of Stanley Hargreave must be caught and turned over
to the care of the Black Hundred. It must be quick ac—
tion. Four valuable members were in the Tombs. They.
might or might not weaken under pressure. For the first1 " .'
time in its American career the organization stoodffacing '
actual peril; and its one possible chance of salvation lay
in the fact that no one’s face was known to his neighbor.
He, Vroon, and the bess alone knew who and what each
man was. But the plans, the ramifications of the organ-
ization might become public property; and that would
mean an end to an exceedingly profitable business.
The daughter of Hargreave rode horseback early every
morning. She sought the country road. She was inva-
riably attended by the riding master of a school near by.
“You four will make your own plans.”
“If she should be injured?”
“Avoid it if possible.”
.“We have a free hand?”
“Absolutely.”
“We risk a bad fall from her horse if it’s a spirited
one.” I
“Pretend a breakdown in the road,” interpolated
Braine. “As they approach, draw and order them to
, dismount That method will prevent any accident.”
“We’ll plan it somehow. It looks easy.”
I “Nothing is easy where that girl is concerned. A
thousand eyes seem to be watching her slightest move.”
“We shan’t leave anything to chance. How many days
will you give us P” ,
“Seven. A failure, mind you, will prove unhealthy.
to all concerned,” with a menace which made the four
stir uneasily. "
l


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 93
The telephone rang. Braine reached for the receiver.
“A man just entered the Hargreave house at the rear.
Come at once,” was the message.
“Is your car outside?” Braine asked.
“We are never without it.”
“Then let us be off. No one will stop us for speeding
on a side street.”
Fourteen minutes by the clock brought the car to a
stand at the curb a few houses below the Hargreave
home. The men got out. The watcher ran up.
“He is still inside,” he whispered.
“Good! Spread out. If any one leaves that house,
catch him. If he runs too fast, shoot. We can beat the
police.”
The man obeyed, and the watcher ran back to his
post. He was desperately hoping the affair would ter-
minate to-night. He was growing weary of this eternal
vigilance; and it was only his fear of the man known
as the boss that kept him at his post. He wanted a night
to carouse in, to be with the boys.
The man for whom they Were lying in wait was seen
presently to creep cautiously'round the side of the house.
He hugged a corner and paused. They could see the
dim outline of his body. The light in the street bagk of
the grounds almost made a silhouette of him. By and
by, as if assured that the coast was clear, he stole down
to the street. -
“Halt!”
Instantly the prowler took to his heels. Two shots
rang out. The man was seen to stop, stagger, and then
go on desperately.
“He’s hit!”
By the time the men-reached the corner they heard the
I


94 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
rumble of a motor. One dashed back to the car they'
had left standing at the curb. He made quick work of
the job, but he was not quick enough. Still, they gave
chase. They saw the car turn toward the city. But,
unfortunately for the success of the chase, several auto-
mobiles passed, going into town and leaving it. Check-
mate.
Braine was keen enough to-night.
“He is hit; whether badly or not remains to be seen.
We can find that out. Drive to the nearest drug store
and get a list of hospitals. It’s a ten to one shot that
we land him somewhere among the hospitals.”
But they searched the hospitals in vain. None of them
had that night received a shooting case, nor had they
heard one reported. The man had been unmistakably
hit. He would not have dared risk the loss of time for
a bit of play-acting. Evidently he had kept his head
and sought his lodgings. To call up doctors would be
utter folly; for. it would take a week for a thorough
combing. This was the second time the man had got
away. '
“Perhaps I’m to blame,”- admitted Braine. “I should
have advised Miles to stalk him and pot him if he got
the chance. There’s a master mind working somewhere
back of all this, and it’s time I woke up to the fact.
But you,” turning to the auto bandits, “you men have
your instructions. More than that, you have been given
a‘ free rein. See that you make good, or by the Lord
Harry! I’ll break the four of you like pipestems.”
“We haven’t had a failure yet,” spoke up one of the
men, more courageous than his companions.
“You are not holding up a bank messenger this trip.
Remember that. Drive me as far as Columbus Circle.


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 95
Leave me on the side street, between the lights, so I can
take off this mask.”
Later Braine sauntered into Pabst’s and ordered a light
supper. This night’s work, more than anything else,
brought home to him the fact that his luck was‘chang-
king. For years he had proceeded with his shady occu-
pations without encountering any memorable failure. He
moved in the high world, quite unsuspected. He had
written books, given lectures, been made a lion of, all
the while laughing in his sleeve at the gullibility of hu-
man nature. But within the last two weeks he had re-
ceived serious checks. From now on he must move with
the utmost caution. Some one was playing his own game,
waging warfare unseen. A battle of wits? So be it;
but Braine intended to play with rough wits, and he
wasn’t going to care which way the sword cut.
He hated Stanley Hargreave with all the hatred of
his soul; the hatred of a man balked in love. And the
man was alive, defying him; alive somewhere in this
city this very night, with a bullet under his skin.
“Is everything satisfactory, sir P” he heard the head
waiter say. I
“Satisfactory P” Braine repeated blankly.
“Yes, sir. You struck the table as though displeased.”
“Oh l” Then Braine laughed relievedly. “If I struck
the table, it was done unconsciously. I was thinking.”
,' “Beg pardon, sir. Anything else, sir P”
“No. Bring me the check.”
“Your master gives riding lessons P”
The groom who had led the horse back from Har-
greave’s eyed his questioner rather superciliously.
“Yes.” The groom fondled the animal’s legs.


96 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
"now much is it P” '
“Twenty dollars for a ticket of five rides. The mas-
ter is the fashion up here. He doesn’t cater to any but
I the best families.”
“Pretty steep. Who was that young lady riding this
morning with your master P”
“That’s the girl all the newspapers have been talking
about,” answered the groom importantly.
“Actress P”
“Actress! I should say not. That young woman is
the daughter of Stanley Hargreave, the millionaire who
was lost at sea. And it won’t be long before she puts
her finger in a pie of four or five millions. If you want
any rides, you’ll have to talk it over with the boss. He
may or may not take any more rides. You’d probably
have to ride in the afternoon, anyhow, as every nag is
out in the morning.”
“Where’s the most popular road P”
“Toward the'park; but Miss Hargreave always goes
along the riverside road. She doesn’t like strangers
about.”
“Oh, I see. Well, I’ll drop in this afternoon and see
your master. They say that riding is good for a torpid
liver. Have a cigar P”
“Thanks.”
The groom proceeded into the stables and the affable
stranger took himself off.
A free rein; they could work it to suit themselves.
There wasn’t the least obstacle in the way. On the face
of it, it appeared to be the simplest job they had yet
undertaken. To get rid of the riding master in some
natural way after he and the girl had started. It was
like falling off a log.


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 97
“Susan,” said Florence, as she came into breakfast
after her exhilarating ride, “did you hear pistol shots
last night?”
“I heard some noise, but I was so sleepy I didn’t try
to figure out what it was.”
“Did you, Jones ?”
“Yes, Miss Florence. The shots came from the street.I
A policeman came running up later and said he saw two
automobiles on the run. But evidently there wasn’t any-
body hurt. One has to be careful at night nowadays.
There are pretty bad men abroad. Did you enjoy the
ride?” _
“Very much. But there were some spots of blood
on the walk near the corner.” ‘
“Blood?” Jones caught the back of a chair to steady
himself.
“Yes. So some one was hurt. Oh, let’s leave this
place!” impulsively. “Let us go back to Miss Farlow’s.
You could find a place in the village, Jones. But if I
stay here much longer in this state of unrest I shall lose
faith in everything and everybody. Whoever my father’s
enemies are, they do not lack persistence. They have
made two attempts against my liberty, and sooner or
later they will succeed. I keep looking over my shoulder
all the time. If I hear a noise I jump.”
“Miss Florence, if I thought it wise, you should be
packed off to Miss Farlow’s this minute. But not an
hour of the day or night passes without this house being
watched. I seldom see anybody about. I can only sense
the presence of a watcher. At Miss Farlow’s you would
be far more like a prisoner than here. I could not ac-
company you. I am forbidden to desert this house.”
“My father’s orders?”


98 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
Jones signified neither one way nor the other. He
merely gazed stolidly at the rug.
“That blood !” She sprang from her chair, horrified.
“It was his! He was here last night and they shot
him! Oh !”
“There, there, Miss Florence! The man was only
” slightly wounded. He’s where they never will look for
him.” Then Jones continued, as with an effort: “Trust
me, Miss Florence. It would not pay to run away. The
whole affair would be repeated elsewhere. We might go
to the other end of the world, but it would not serve us
in the least. It is not a question of escape, but of who
shall vanquish the other. There is nothing to do but
remain here and fight, fight, fight. We have put four
of them in the Tombs, to say nothing of the gunmen.
That is what we must do—put them in a safe place, one
by one, till we reach the master. Then only may we
breathe in safety. But if they watch, so do we. 'There
is never a moment when help is not within reach, no mat-
ter where you go. So long as you do not deceive me,
no real harm shall befall you. Don’t cry. Be your
father’s daughter, as I am his servant.”
“I am very unhappy l” And Florence threw her arms
around Susan and laid her head upon her friend’s shoul-
der.
“Poor child l” Susan, however, recognized the wisdom
of Jones’ statements. They were safest here.
The morning rides continued. To the girl, who loved
the open, it was glorious fun. Those mad gallops along
the roads, the smell of earth and sea, the tingle in the
blood, were the second best moments of the day. The
first? She invariably blushed when she considered what


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 99
these first best moments were. He was a brave young
man, good to look at, witty, and always cheerful. Why
shouldn’t she like him? Even Jones liked him—Jones,
who didn’t seem to like anybody. It did not matter
whether he was wise or not; a worldly point of view
was farthest from her youthful thoughts. It was her
own affair; her own heart.
Five days later, as she and the riding master were
cantering along the road, enjoying every bit of it, they
heard the beat of hoofs behind. They drew up and
turned. A rider was approaching them at a run. It was
the head groom. The man stopped his horse in a cloud
of dust.
“Sir, the stables are on fire.”
“Fire?”
All the riding master’s savings were invested in the
stables. The fact that he had solemnly promised never
to leave Florence alone, and that he had accepted a gen-
erous bonus slipped from his mind at the thought of
fire, a terrible word to any horseman. He wheeled and
started off at breakneck speed, his head groom clattering
behind him.
Florence naturally wondered which of two courses to
pursue: follow them, when she would be perfectly help-
less to aid them, or continue the ride and save at least
one horse from the terror of seeing flames. She chose the
latter. But she did not ride with the earlier zest. She
felt depressed. She loved horses, and the thought of
them dying in those wooden stables was horrifying.
The fire, however,'proved to be incipient. But it was
plainly incendiary. Some one had set fire to the stables
with a purpose in view. Norton recognized this fact


100 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
almost as soon as the firemen. He had come this morning
with the idea of surprising Florence. He was going out
on horseback to join her.
His spine grew suddenly cold. A trap! She had been
left alone on the road! He ran over to the garage, se-
cured a car, and went humming out toward the river
road. A trap, and only by the sheerest luck had he
turned up in time.
Meantime Florence was walking her mount slowly.
For once the scenery passed unobserved. She was deeply
engrossed with thoughts, some of which were happy and
some of which were sad. If only her father could be
with her she would be the happiest girl alive.
She was brought out of her revery by the sight of a
man staggering along the road ahead of her. Finally
he plunged upon his face in the road. Like the tender-
hearted girl she was, she stopped, dismounted, and ran
to the fallen man to give him aid. She suddenly found
her wrists clasped in two hands like iron. The man rose
to his feet, smiling evilly. She struggled wildly but
futilely.
“Better be sensible,” he said. “I am stronger than you
are. And I don’t wish to hurt you. Walk on ahead of
me. It will be utterly useless to scream or cry out. You
can see for yourself that we are in a deserted part of the
road. If you will promise to act sensibly I shan’t lay a
hand on you. Do you see that but yonder, near the fork
in the road? We’ll stop there. Now, march!”
She dropped her handkerchief, later her bracelet, and
finally her crop, in hope that these slight clues might
bring her help. She knew that Jones would hear of the
fire, and, finding that she had not returned with the
riding master, would immediately start out in pursuit.


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THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 101
l
She was beginning to grow very fond of Jones, who never
spoke unless spoken to, who was always at hand, faith-
ful and loyal.
From afar came the low rumble of a motor. She won-
dered if her captor heard it. He did, but his ears tricked
him into believing that it came from another direction.
Eventually they arrived at the hut, and Florence was
forced to enter. The man locked the door and waited
outside for the automobile which he was expecting. He
was rather dumfounded when he saw that it was coming
from the city, not going toward it.
It was Norton. The riderless horse told him enough;
the handkerchief and bracelet and crop led him straight
for the hut.
The man before the hut realized by this time that he
had made a mistake. He attempted to re-enter the hut
and prepare to defend it till his companions hove in
sight. But Florence, recognizing Norton, held the door
with all her strength. The man snarled and turned to-
ward Norton, only to receive a smashing blow on the
jaw.
Norton flung open the door. “Into the car, Florence!
There’s another car coming up the road. Hurry!”
It was not a long chase. The car of the auto bandits,
looking like an ordinary taxicab, was a high-powered
machine, and it gained swiftly on Norton’s four-cylinder.
The reporter waited grimly.
“Keep your head down!” he warned Florence. “I’m
going to take a pot at their tires when they get within
range. If I miss I’m afraid we’ll have trouble. Under
no circumstances attempt to leave this car. Here they
come l”
He suddenly leaned back and fired. It was only


102 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
chance. The manner in which the cars were lurching
made a poor target for a marksman even of the first or-
der. Chance directed Norton’s first bullet into the right
forward tire, which exploded. Going at sixty-odd miles
‘ an hour, they could not stop the car in time to avoid
fatality. The car careened wildly and plunged down the
embankment into the river.
Florence covered her eyeswith her hands, and, quite
unconscious of what he was doing, Norton put his arms
around her.


CHAPTER VIII
FTER the affair of the auto bandits—three of whom
were killed—a lull followed. If you’re a sailor you
know what kind of a lull I mean—blue-black clouds down
the southwest horizon, the water crinkly, the booms
wabbling. Suddenly a series of “accidents” began to
happen to Norton. At first he did not give the matter
much thought. The safe which fell almost at his feet
and crashed through the sidewalk merely induced him to
believe he was lucky. At another time an automobile
came furiously around a corner while he was crossing
the street, and only amazing agility saved him from bod-
ily hurt. The car was out of sight when he thought to
recall the number.
Then came the jolt in the subway. Only a desperate
grab by one of the guards saved him from being crushed
to death. Even then he thought nothing. But when a
new box of cigarettes arrived and he tried one and found
it strangely perfumed, and, upon further analysis, found
it to contain a Javanese narcotic, a slow but sure death,
he became wide awake enough. They were after him.
He began to walk carefully, to keep in public places as
often as he possibly could.
He was not really afraid of death, but he did abhor
the thought of its coming up from behind. Except for
the cigarettes they were all “accidents ;” he could not
103


104 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
have proved anything before a jury of his intimate
friends.
He never entered an elevator without scrupulous care.
He never passed under coverings over the sidewalks
where construction was going on. Still, careful as he
was, death confronted him once more. It was his habit
to have his coffee and rolls—he rarely ate anything more
for his breakfast—set down outside his door every morn-
ing. The coffee, being in a silver thermos bottle, kept its
heat for hours. When he took the stopper out and
poured forth a cup it looked oddly black, discolored. It
is quite probable that had there been no series of “acci-
dents” he would have drunk a cup—and died in mortal
agony. It contained bichloride of mercury.
Very quietly he set about to make inquiries. This was
really becoming serious. In the kitchens down-stairs
~ nothing could be learned. The maid had set the thermos
bottle before the door at ten-thirty. Norton had opened
the door at one-thirty—three hours after. The outlook
was not the cheerfulest. He knew perfectly well why
all these things “happened ;” he had interfered with the
plans of the scoundrels who were making every possible
move to kidnap Florence Hargreave.
One afternoon he paid Florence a visit. Of course he
told her nothing. They had become secretly engaged the
day after he had rescued her from the auto bandits. They
were secretly engaged because Florence wanted it so.
For once Jones suspected nothing. Why should he? He
had troubles enough. As a matter of fact, Norton was
afraid of him in the same sense as a boy is afraid of a
policeman.
But on this day, when the time came, he accosted the
butler and drew him into the pantry.


-
THEY HAD BECOME S'TC
“my
-\-.¢ - M


Y ENGAGED





THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 1.05
“Jones, they are after me now.”
“You? Explain.”
Norton briefly recounted the deliberate attempts against
his life.
“You see, I’m not liar enough to say that I’m not wor-
ried. I am, devilishly worried. I’m not worth any ran-
som. I’m in the way, and they seem determined to put
me out of it.”
“To any other man I would say travel. But to you I
say when you leave your rooms don’t go where you first
thought you would—that is, some usual haunt. They’ll
be everywhere, near your restaurants, your clubs, your
office. You’re a methodical young man; become erratic.
Keep away from here for at least three days, but always
call me Up by telephone some time during the day. Never
under any circumstance, unless I send for you, come
here at night. Only one man now watches the house dur-
ing the day, but five are prowling around after dark.
They might have instructions to shoot you on sight. I
can’t spare you just at present, Mr. Norton. You’ve
been a godsend; and if it seems that sometimes I did not
trust you fully it was because I did not care to drag
you in too deep.”
Deep? Norton thought of Florence and smiled in-
wardly. Could anybody be in deeper than he was? Once
it was on the tip of his tongue to confess his love for
jFlorence, but the gravity of Jones’ countenance was an
obstacle to such move; it did not invite it.
To be sure, Jones had no real authority to say what
Florence should or should not do with her heart. Still,
from all points of view, it was better to keep the affair
under the rose till there came a more propitious hour
in which to make the disclosure.


106 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
Love, in the midst of all these alarms! Sharp, des-
perate rogues on one side, millions on the other, and yet
love could enter the scene serenely, like an actor who
had missed his cue and come on too soon.
Oddly enough, there was no real love—making such as
you often read about. A pressure of the hand, a glance
from the eye, there was seldom anything more. Only
once—that memorable day on the river road—had he
kissed her. No word of love had been spoken on either
side. In that wild moment all conventionalities had dis-
appeared like smoke in the wind. There had been neither
past nor future, only the present in which they knew that
they loved. With her he was happy, for he had no time
to plan over the future. Away from her he saw the in-
evitable barriers providing against the marriage between
a poor young man and a very rich young woman. A
man who has any respect for himself wants always to be
on equal terms with his wife. It’s the way this peculiar
organization called society has written down its rules.
Doubtless a relic of the stone age, when Ab went out
with his club to seek a wife and drag her by the hair to
his den, there to care for her and to guard her with his
life’s blood. It is one of the few primitive sensations
that remain to us, this wanting the female dependent
upon the male. Perhaps this accounts for man’s lack of
interest on the suffragette question.
Only Susan suspected the true state of affairs, being a
woman. Having had no real romance herself, she de-
lighted in having a second-hand one, as you might say.
She intercepted many a glance and pretended not to see
the stolen hand pressures. The wedding was already
full drawn in her mind’s eye. These two young people
should be married at Susan Farlow’s when the roses







HAPPY, FOR HE HAD NO TIME TO PLAN
VER THE FUTURE


d‘a'


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 107
were climbing up the sides of the house and the young
robins were .boldly trying their fuzzy wings. It struck
her as rather strange, but she could not conjure up (at
this wedding) more than two men besides the minister,
the bridegroom and the butler.
By forsaking his accustomed haunts, under the advice
of Jones, the hidden warfare ceased temporarily. You
can’t very well kill a man when you don’t know where to
find him. He ate his breakfasts haphazardly, now here,
now there. He received most of his assignments by
telephone and wrote his stories and articles in his club,
in the writing rooms of hotels, and invariably despatched
them to the office by messenger. The managing editor
wanted to know what all this meant; but Norton declined
to tell him.
It irked him to be forced to rearrange his daily life—
his habits. It was a revolution against his ease, for he
loved case when he was not at work. He had the sensa-
tion of having been suddenly robbed of his home, of hav~
ing been cast out into the streets. And on top of all this
he had to go and fall in love!
There was no longer a shadow opposite the apart-
ments of the Countess Perigoff. Braine came and went
nightly without discovering any one. This rather worried
him. It gave him the impression that the shadow had
found out what he had been seeking and no longer needed
to watch the coming and going of either himself or the
Countess Perigoff.
“Olga, it looks as if we were at the end of our rope,”
he said discouragedly. “We have failed in our attempts
so far. The devil watches over that girl.”
“Or God,” replied the countess-gloomily. In nearly
every instance their success has been ' due to chance.


108 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
“Somehow I’m convinced that we began wrong. We
should have let Hargreave escape quietly, followed him,
and made him fast when the right opportunity came.
After a month or so his vigilance would have relaxed;
he would have arrived at the belief that he had
eluded us.”
“Indeed!” ironically. “He wasn’t vigilant all these
years in which he did elude us. How about the child he
never sought but guarded? Vigilance! He never was
anything else all these seventeen years. The truth is,
success has developed a coarseness in our methods. And
now it is too late for finesse. We have tried every de-
vice we can think of; and there they are—the girl free,
Norton unharmed, and the father as secure in his re-
treat as though he wore an invisible cloak. My head
aches. I have ceased to be inventive."
“The two are in love with each other.”
“Are you sure of that ?”
“I have my eyes. But I begin to wonder.”
“About what?”
“Whether or not Jones suspects me and is giving me
rope to hang myself with. Not once have the police been
called in and told what has really happened. They are
totally at sea. And what has become of the man over
the way ?”
“By the Lord Harry!” exclaimed Braine, clapping his
hands. “I believe I’ve solved that. We shot a man com-
ing out of Hargreave’s. Since then there’s been no one
across the way. One and the same man !”
“But that knowledge doesn’t get us anywhere.”
“No. You say they are in love ?”
“Secretly. I don’t believe the butler has an inkling
of it. It is possible, however, that Susan has caught the
f


THEY WERE TO BE


MARRIED


u


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 109
trend of affairs. But, being rather romantic, she will in
nowise interfere.”
Braine smoked in silence. Presently a smile twisted
his lips.
“You have thought of something ?” she asked.
“You might try it,” he said. “They have accepted
your friendship; whether with ulterior purpose remains
to be learned. She has been to your apartments two or
three times to tea and always got home safely.”
“No,” she said determinedly. “Nothing shall happen
here. I will not take the risk.”
“Wait till I’m through. Break up the romance in such
a way that the girl will bar Norton from the house.
That’s what we’ve been aiming at; to get rid of that
meddling reporter. We’ve tried poisons. Try your
kind.”
“What do you mean ?”
“Lies.”
“Ah! I understand. You want me to win him away
from her. It can not be done.”
“Pshaw! You have a bag full of tricks. You can
easily manage to put him into an equivocal position out of
which he can not possibly squirm so far as the girl is con-
cerned. A little melodrama, arranged for the benefit of
Florence. Fall into Norton’s arms at the right moment,
or something like that.”
“I suppose I could. But if I failed . . .
“You’re too damnably clever to fail in your own par-
ticular work. Something has got to be done to keep
those two apart. I’ve often thought of raiding the house
and boldly carrying off the whole family, Susan and all.
But a wholesale affair like that would be too noisy. Think
it over, Olga; we have gone too far to back down now.
i)
‘_


110 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
There’s always Russia; and while I’m the boss over here
they never cease to watch me. They’ll make me answer
for a failure like this.”
She eyed him speculatively. “You have money.”
“Oh, the money doesn’t matter. It’s the game. It’s
the game of playing fast and loose with society, of pi!-
,fering it with one hand and making it kow—tow with the
other. It’s the sport of the thing. What was your
thought ?”
“We could go away together, to South America.”
“And tire of each other within a month,” he retorted
shrewdly. “N 0; we are in the same boat. WVe could not
live but for this never-ending excitement. And, more
than that, we never could get far enough away from the
long arm of the First Ten. We’ll have to stick it out
here. Can’t you see?”
“Yes, I can see.”
But in her heart she knew that she would have lived
in a hut with this man till the end of her days. She ab-
horred the life, though she never, by the slightest word,
let him become aware of it. There was always that
abiding fear that at the first sign of weakness he would
desert her. And she was wise in her deductions. Braine
was loyal to her because she held his interest. Once that
failed, he would be off and away.
The next afternoon the countess, having matured her
Iplans against the happiness of the young girl who trusted
her, drew up before the Hargreave place and alighted.
Her welcome was the\ same as ever, and this strength-
ened her confidence.
The countess was always gesticulating. Her hands
fluttered to emphasize her words. And the beautiful dia-
mond solitaire caught the girl’s eye. She seized the


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 111
hand. Having an affair of her own, it was natural that
she should be interested in that of her friend.
“I never saw that ring before.”
“A gift of yesterday.” The countess assumed a shy
air which would have deceived St. Anthony. She twisted
the ring on her finger.
“Tell me,” cried Florence. “You are engaged?”
“Mercy, no!”
“Is he rich?”
“No. Money should not matter when your heart is
involved.”
As this thought was in accord with her own, Florence
nodded her head sagely.
“It’s nothing serious. Just a fancy. I shall never
marry again. Men are gay deceivers ; they always have
been and always will be. Perhaps I’m a bit wicked;
but I rather like to prove my theory that all men are
weak. If I had a daughter I'd rather have her be an old
man’s darling than a young man’s drudge. I distrust
every man I know. I came to ask you and Susan to go
to the opera with me to-night. You will come to my
apartments first. You will come ?”
“To be sure we will !”
“Simple little fool I” thought the Russian on the way
home. “She shall see.”
“I believe the countess is engaged to be married,” said
Florence to Jones.
“Indeed, miss?”
“Yes. I couldn’t get anything definite out of her, but
she had a beautiful ring on her finger. She wants Susan
and me to go to the opera with her to-night. Will that be
all right?” _
Jones gazed abstractedly at the rug. Whenever a prob-


112 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
lem bothered him he seemed to find the solution in the
delicate patterns of the Persian rugs. Finally he nodded.
‘ “I see no reason why you should not go. Only, watch
out.”
“Jones, there is one thing that will make me brave and
happy. Will you tell me if you are in direct communica-
tion with my father P”
“Yes, Miss Florence,” he answered promptly. “But do
not breathe this to a single soul, neither Susan nor Nor-
ton.”
“I promise that. But, ah! hasten the day when he can
come to me without fear.”
“That is my wish also.”
“You need not call me miss. Why should you P”
“It might not be wise to have any one hear me call
you thus familiarly,” he objected gravely.
“Please yourself about that. Now I must telephone
Jim.”
“Jim P” the butler murmured.
He caught the word which was not intended for his
ears. But. for once Jones had been startled out of him-
self.
“Is it wrong for me to call Mr. Norton Jim P” she asked
with a bit of banter.
“It is not considered quite the proper thing, Miss Flor-
ence, to call a young man by his first name unless you are
’engaged to marry him, or grew up with him from child-
hood.”
“Well, supposing I were engaged to him?” haughtily.
“That would be a very grave affair. What have you
to prove that he may not wish to marry you for your
money P”
“Why, Jones, you know that I haven’t a penny in the


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 113
~
world I can call my own! There is nothing to prove,
except your word, that I am Stanley Hargreave’s
daughter.”
“No, there is nothing to prove that you are his daugh—
ter. But hasn’t it ever occurred to you that there might
be a purpose back of this? Might it not be of inestimable
value that your father’s enemies should be left in doubt?
Might it not be a means of holding them on the leash?
There is proof, ample proof, my child; and when the
time comes these will be shown you. But meantime put
all thought of marrying Mr. Norton out of your mind.”
“That I refuse to do,” quietly. “I am at least mistress
of my heart; and no one shall dictate to me whom I shall
or shall not marry. I love Mr. Norton and he loves me,
knowing that I may not be an heiress after all. And
some day I shall marry him.”
Jones bowed. This seemed to appear final to him,
and nothing more was to be said.
Norton did not return to his rooms till seven. He
found the telephone call and also a note in a hand-
writing unfamiliar. He tore off the envelope and found
the contents to be from the Countess Perigoff.
“Call at eight to—night,” he read. “I have an important
news story for you. Tell no one, as I can not be in-
volved in the case. Cordially, Olga, Countess Perigoff.”
r Humph! Norton twiddled the note in his fingers and
at length rolled it into a ball and threw it into the waste-
basket. He, too, made a mistake; he should have kept
that note. He dressed, dined, and hurried off to the
apartments of the countess.
He arrived ten minutes before Florence and Susan.
And Jones did some rapid telephoning.
\ “How long, how long!” the butler murmured. How


114 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY-
long would this strange combat last? The strain was
terrible. He slept but little during the nights, for his
ears were always waiting for sounds. He had cast the
chest into the sea, and it would take a dozen expert divers
to locate it. And now, atop of all these worries, the child
must fall in love with the first comer! It was heart-
breaking. Norton, so far as he had learned, was cool
and brave, honest and reliable in a pinch; but as the hus-
band of Stanley Hargreave’s daughter, that was alto-
gether a different matter. And he must devise some
means of putting a stop to it, but—-
But he was saved that trouble.
Mongoose and cobra, that was the game being played;
the cunning of the one against the deadly venom of the
other. If he forced matters he would only lay himself
open to the strike of the snake. He must have patience.
Gradually they were breaking the organization, lopping
off a 'branch here and there, but the peace of the future
depended upon getting a grip on the spine of the cobra
himself.
The trick was simple. The countess had news; trust
her for that. She exhibited a cablegram, dated at Gib-
' raltar, in which the British authorities stated definitely
that no such a person as William Orts, aviator, had ar-
rived at Gibraltar. And then, as Norton rose, she rose
also and gently precipitated herself into his arms, just at
the moment when Florence appeared in the doorway.
Very simple, indeed. When a woman falls toward a
man there is nothing for him to do but extend his arms
to prevent her from falling. Outwardly, however, to the
eye which saw only the picture and comprehended not
the cause, it had all the hallmarks of an affectionate em-
brace.


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 115
Florence stood perfectly still for a moment, then
turned away.
“I beg your pardon,” said the countess, “but a sudden
fainting spell seized me. My heart is a bit weak.”
“Don’t mention it,” replied the gallant Norton. He
was as innocent as a babe as to what had really taken
‘place. ,
Florence went back home. She wrote a brief note to
Norton and inclosed the ring which she had secretly
worn attached to a little chain around her neck.
When Norton came the next day she refused to see
him. It was all over. She never wished to see him
again.
“He says there has been some cruel mistake,” said
Jones.
“I saw him with the countess in his arms. I do not
see any cruel mistake in that. I saw him. Tell him so.
And add that I never wish to see him again.”
Then she ran swiftly to her room, where she broke
down and cried bitterly and would not be comforted by
Susan.
“In heaven’s name, what has happened?” demanded the
frantic lover, “what has happened?”
The comedy of the whole affair lay in the fact that
neither of the two suspected the countess, who consoled
them both.


CHAPTER IX
0 FAR as Jones was concerned, he was rather
pleased with the turn of affairs. This was no time
for love-making; no time for silly, innocuous quarrels
and bickerings, in which love must indulge or die. Flor-
ence no longer rode horseback, and Norton returned to
his accustomed haunts, where no one made the slightest
attempt upon his life. In his present state of mind he
would have welcomed it.
“What’s the matter with Jim?” asked the night city
editor, raising his eye shade.
“I don’t know,” answered the copy reader.
“Goes around as if he’d been eating dope; bumped
into the boss a while ago and never stopped to apologize.”
“Perhaps he’s mapping out the front page for that Har-
greave stuff,” laughed the copy reader. “Between you
and me and the gate post, I don’t believe there ever was
a man by the name of Hargreave.”
“Oh, there was a chap by that name, all right. He’s
dead. A man can’t swim three hundred miles in rough .,
water, life-buoy or no. They ought to have funeral serv-
ices, and let it go at that.”
“But what was the reason for that fake cable from
Gibraltar saying that Orts was alive? I don’t see any
sense in that.”
“The man who pulled it off did. I think, for my part,-
116


118 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
time no longer served, he pulled his chair over to the
window and sat down, staring at stars such as Coperni-
cus never dreamed of. Ships going down to sea, ferries
swooping diagonally hither and thither, the clockwork
signs; but he took no note of these marvels of light.
“Not at home !” he muttered.
He had called, written, telephoned. No use. The door
remained shut, Jones answered the telephone, and the
letters came back. He began to think very deeply con-
cerning the Perigoff woman. Had she played a trick?
Had that fainting spell been buncombe for his benefit as
well as Florence’s? But he had not a shadow of a proof.
The thing that puzzled him equally with this was that
all attempts against his life had miraculously ceased; no
safesthundered down in front of him, and no autos
tried to carve him in two. The only thing that kept him
active was the daily call of Jones by wire. Miss Florence
was well; that was all Jones was permitted to say.
Restlessly Norton spurned his chair and walked over
to the telephone booth. It was midnight. He might or
might not be able to get Jones. But almost instantly a
voice said, “What is it P”
“Jones P”
“Yes. Who is it P”
“Norton.”
“Why, you called me up not ten minutes ago.”
“Not I!”
“It was your voice, as plain as day.”
“What did I want ?” keen all at once.
The reply did not come immediately. “You are cer'
tain it was not you P”
“Wait a moment and I’ll call the editor. He will prove


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 119
to you that I’ve been here for an hour, and that this is the
first call I’ve made. Some one has been imposing on you.
What did they ask you to do?”
“You asked me to come down to the office at once, and
_ I requested you to come to the house, and you said you
could not. I declined to stir.”
' “What did you think?”
“Exactly what you’re thinking—that they have come
to life again.” '
“Jones, is Miss Florence awake?”
(‘N0.’,
“Do you think there is any hope of having her under.
stand what really happened ?”
“I am only here to guard her. I can not undertake to
read her thoughts.”
“You’re not quite in favor of a reconciliation?”
“Oh, yes, if it went no further. Young people are
young people the world over.”
“What does that mean?”
“That they would not create imaginary heartaches if
they were not young. Better let things remain exactly as
they are. When all these troubles are settled finally, the
lesser trouble may be talked over sensibly. But this is not
the time. There is no news. Good night.”
Norton returned to his chair, gloomier than ever. With
his feet upon the window sill he stared and stared and
'dreamed and dreamed till a hand fell upon his shoulder.
It belonged to one of the office boys.
“Note f’r you, sir.” '
Norton read it and tore it into little pieces. Then he
rose and distributed the pieces in the several yawning
waste baskets which strewed the aisle leading to the city
desk.


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 121
“I’ve found where the Black Hundred hold their ses-
sions.”
“By George, that’s news !”
“The room above is vacant. A little hole in the ceiling,
and who knows what might happen P”
“What do you want me to do P”
“Tell Jones. When the next meeting comes around I’ll
advise you. I’ve stumbled upon a dissatisfied member.
So, buck up, as they say. We’ve got two ends of the net
down, and with a little care we’ll have them all. Now let
me have a hundred.”
Norton drew out a packet of bills and counted off five
twenties.
“Why don’t you draw the cash yourself P”
“It happens to be in your name, son.”
“I forgot,” said Norton. “But what a chance for me!
Nearly five thousand, all mine for a ticket to Algiers!”
A grunt was the only reply.
“I want you to tell me about the Perigoif woman.”
“I know only one thing—that Braine is there every
night.”
‘(NO 1”
“The orders are for you to play the game just as you
are playing it. When we strike, it must be the last blow.
All this hide-and-seek business may look foolish to you.
It’s like that Japanese game called ‘jo.’ It looks simple,
but chess is a tyro’s game beside it. Can you find your
way back all right P”
“I can.” '
“Well, you’d better be going. That’s all the light I
have, in this turch here. Got a lot to do to-morrow and
need sleep.”
Norton stole away with great caution. His first inten-


122 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
tion was to proceed straight to the city, but despite his
resolution he found himself within a quarter of an hour
gazing up at the windows of the Hargreave house. “Not
at home !”
Quite unconscious of the fact, he was as close to death
as any mortal man might care to be. The policeman sud-
denly looming up under the arc lamp proved to be his
savior.
The lull made Jones doubly alert. He was positive that
they were preparing to strike again. But from \..1at
direction and in what manner? He had not met the gift
of clairvoyance so he had to wait; and waiting is a terri-
ble game when perhaps death is balancing the scales. It
is always easier to make an assault than to await it; and
it is a good general who always finds himself prepared.
But it made his heart ache to watch the child. She
went about cheerfully—when any one was in the room
with her. Many a time, however, he had stolen to the
door of her bedroom and heard the heart-rending sobs, a
vain attempt being made to stifle them among the pillows.
She was only eighteen; it was first love; and first loves
are pale, evanescent attachments. It hurt now; but she
would get over it presently. Youth forgets. Time, like
water, smooths away the ragged places.
The countess called regularly. She was, of course,
dreadfully sorry over what had happened. She had heard
something about his character; newspaper men weren’t
always the best. This one was a mere fortune hunter; 3
two-faced one, at that. She was never more surprised in
her life than when he threw his arms around her. And so
on, and so forth, half lies and half truths, till the patient
Jones felt like wringing her neck.


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 123
From his vantage point the butler smiled ironically.
He could read the heart of the Perigoff woman as he
could read the page of a book. The effrontery! And all
the while he must gravely admit her and pretend when
the blood rioted in his veins at the sight of her. But he
dared not swerve a single inch from the plans laid down.‘
It was a cup of bitter gall, and there was no way of
avoiding the putting of it to his lips. She emanated poi-
son as nightshade emanates it, the upas tree. And he
must bow when she entered and bow when she left! Still,
shhthad done him an indirect favor in breaking up this
love business.
One afternoon Braine summoned his runabout and
called up two physicians. When he was ushered into the
deserted office of the first he sent his card in. The doctor
replied in person. His face was pale and his hands shook.
“Good afternoon,” said Braine, smiling affably.
The doctor eyed him like a man hypnotized. “You
. . . you wished to see me on some particular busi—
ness P”
“Very particular,” dryly. “My car is outside. Will
you be so good as to accompany me P”
The doctor slowly went into the hall for his hat and
coat. He left the house and got into the car with never a
word of protest.
“Thinking P” said Braine.
“I am always thinking whenever I see your evil face.
What devilment do you require of me this time P”
“A mere stroke of the pen.”
“Where are we going P”
“To call on another physician of your standing,” sig-
nificantly. “It is a great thing to have friends like you
two. Always ready to serve us, for the mere love of it.”


124 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
“There’s no need of using that kind of talk to me. You
have me in the hollow of your hand. Why should I
bother to deny it? I have broken the law. I broke it be-
' cause I was starving.”
“It is better to starve in freedom than to eat fat joints
up the river. To-day it is a question of sanity.”
“And you want me to assist in signing away the liberty
of some person who is perfectly sane ?”
“The nail on the head,” urbanely.
“You’re a fine scoundrel l”
“Not so loud!” warningly.
“As loud as I please. I am not forgetting that you
need me. I’m no coward. I recognize that you hold the
whip hand. But you can send me to the chair before I’ll
crawl to you. Now, leave me alone for a while.”
The other physician had no such qualms of conscience.
He was ready at all times for the generous emoluments
which accrued from his dealings with the man Braine.
The Countess Perigoff was indisposed; so it was quite
in the order of things that she should summon physicians.
There is a law in the state of New York—just or un-
just, whichever you please-—that reads that any person
may be adjudged insane if the signatures of two regis-
tered physicians are affixed to the document. It does not
say that these physicians shall have been proved repu-
table. \
There were, besides the physicians, a motherly looking
woman and a man of benign countenance. Their faces
were valuable assets. To gain another person’s confi-
dence is, perhaps, among the greatest human achieve-
ments. A confidence man and woman in the real sense
of the word. In your mind’s eye you could see this man
carrying the contribution plate down the aisle on Sunday


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 125
mornings, and his wife Kate putting her mite on the plate
for the benefit of some poor, untidy Hottentot.
On' Tuesday of the following week Florence and Susan
went shopping. The chauffeur was a strong young fel-
low whom Jones relied upon. If you pay a man well and
hold out fine promises, you generally can trust him. As
their car left the corner another followed leisurely. This
second automobile contained Thomas Wendt and his wife
Kate. The two young women stopped at the great dry
goods shop near the public library, and for the time being
naturally forgot everything but the marvels which had
come from all parts of the world. It is as natural for a
woman to buy as it is for a man to sell.
In some manner or other Florence became separated
from Susan. She hunted through aisle after aisle, but
could not find her; for the simple reason that Susan was
hunting ,for her. It occurred to the girl that Susan
might have wisely concluded the best place to wait would
be in the taxicab. And so Florence hurried out into the
street, into the arms of the Wendt family, who were
patiently awaiting her.
The trusted chauffeur had been sent around to the side
entrance by the major domo. The young lady had so
requested, so he said.
Florence struggled and called for the policeman, who
came running up, followed by the usual idle, curious
crowd.
“The poor young woman is insane,” said the motherly
Kate, tears in her eyes. The benign Thomas looked at
heaven. “We are her keepers.”
“It is not true,” cried Florence desperately.
“She has the hallucination that she is the daughter of
the millionaire Stanley Hargreave.” And Thomas exhib-


126 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
ited his document, which was perfectly legal, so far as
appearances went.
“Hurry up and get her off the walk. I can’t have the
crowd growing any larger,” said the policeman, con-
vinced.
So, despite her cries and protestations, Florence was
hustled into the automobile, even the policeman lending
a hand.
“Poor young thing!” he said to the crowd. “Come
now, move on. I can’t have the walk blocked up. Get a
gait on you.”
He was congratulating himself upon the orderliness
of the affair when a keen-eyed young man in the garb of
a chauffeur touched his shoulder.
“What’s this I hear about an insane young woman P”
he demanded.
“She was insane, all right. They had papers to prove
it. She kept crying that she was Stanley Hargreave’s
daughter.”
“My God!” The youngman struck his forehead in
despair. “You ass, she was Stanley Hargreave’s daugh-
ter, and they’ve kidnaped her right under your nose!
What was the number of that car P” '
“Cut out that line of talk, young fellah; I know my
business. They had the proper documents.”
“But you hadn’t brains enough to inquire whether they
were genuine or not! You wait!” shrilled the chauffeur.
“I’ll have you broken for this work.” He wheeled
and ran back to his car, to find Susan and the countess
in a great state of agitation. “They got her, they got
her! And I swore on the book that they never should, so
long as I drove the car.” '




-


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 127
Susan wept, and the countess tried in vain to console
her.
And when Jones was informed he frightened even the
countess with the snarl of rage which burned across
his lips. He tore into the hall, seized his hat, and was
' gone.’ Not a word of reproach did he offer to the
chauffeur. He understood that no one is infallible. He
found the blundering policeman, who now realized that
he stood in for a whiff of the commissioner’s carpet.
All he could do was to give a good description of the
man and woman. Word was sent broadcast through the
city. The police had to be informed this time.
Late in the day an officer whose beat included the ferry
landing at Hoboken said he had seen the three. Every-
thing had looked all right to him. It was the motherly
face of the one and the benign countenance of the other
that had blinded him.
At midnight Jones, haggard and with the air of one
beaten, returned home.
“N 0 wireless yet ?” asked Norton.
“The George Washington of the North German Lloyd
does not answer. Something has happened to her wires;
tampered with, possibly.”
“So long as we know they are at sea, we can remedy
the evil. They will not be able to land at a single port.
I have sent ten cables. They can’t get away from the
wire. If I could only get hold of the names of those
damnable doctors who signed that document! Twenty
years.”
Jones bent his head in his hands, and Norton tramped
the floor till the sound of his footsteps threatened to drive
the moaning Susan into hysterics.


15:0 ADhHHD<mm mHmH 50h >§Om >AM2M-HKH HAM; HZOWMEH





CHAPTER X
T was perfectly true that Florence had cast herself
I into the sea. It had not been an act of despair, how-
ever. On the contrary, hope and courage had prompted
her to leap. The night was clear, with only a moderate
sea running. At the time the great ship was passing the
banks, and almost within hail, she saw a fishing schooner
riding gracefully at anchor. She quite readily believed
that if she remained on board the George Washington
she was lost. She naturally forgot the marvel of wire-
less telegraphy. No longer may a man hide at sea.
So, with that quick thought which was a part of her
inheritance, she seized the life buoy, climbed the rail and
leaped far out. As the great, dark, tossing sea swooped
up to meet her she noted a block of wood bobbing up and
down. She tried to avoid it, but could not, and struck
it head on. Despite the blow and the shock of the chill
water she instinctively clung to the buoy. The- wash from
the mighty propellers tossed her about, hither and yon,
zfrom one swirl to another, like a chip of wood. Then
everything grew blank.
Fortunately for her the master of the fishing schooner
was at the time standing on his quarterdeck by the wheel,
squinting through his glass at the liner and envying the
ease and comfort of those on board her. The mate, sit-
ting on the steps and smoking his turning-in pipe, saw
129


130 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
the master lean forward suddenly, lower the glass, then
raise it again.
“Lord A’mighty l”
“What’s the matter, Cap’n ?”
“Jake, in God’s name, come ’ere an’ take a peek
through this glass. I’m dreamin’ !”
The mate jumped and took the glass. “Where away,
sir ?”
“A p’int off th’ sta’board bow. See somethin’ white
bobbin’ up?”
“Yessir! Looks like some one dropped a bolster ’r a
piller overboard. . . . Cod’s whiskers!” he broke off.
“Then I ain’t really seein’ things,” cried the master.
“Hi, y’ lubbers,” he yelled to the crew; “lower th’ dory.
They’s a woman in th’ water out there. I seen her leap
th’ rail. Look alive! Sharp’s th’ word! Mate, you go
’long.”
The crew dropped their tasks and sprang for the davits,
and the starboard dory was lowered in ship shape style.
It takes a good bit of seamanship to haul a body out
of the sea, into a dancing, bobtailed dory, when one mo-
ment it is climbing frantically heavenward and the next
heading for the bottomless pit. They were very tender
with her. They laid her out in the bottom of the boat,
with the life buoy as a pillow, and pulled energetically
for the schooner. She was alive, because she breathed;‘|
but she did not stir so much as an eyelid. It was a stiff '
bit of work, too, to land her aboard without adding to
her injuries. The master ordered the men to put her
in his own bunk, where he nearly strangled her by forc-
ing raw brandy down her throat.
“Well, she’s alive, anyhow.”
When Florence finally opened her eyes the gray of





_._"L
FLORENCE STEALS OUT IN THE NIGHT TO JUMP OVERBOARD



..,.


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 131
dawn lay upon the sea, dotted here and there by the
schooners of the fleet, which seemed to be hanging in
midair, as at the moment there was visible to the eye
no horizon.
“Don’t seem t’ recognize nothin’.”
“Mebbe she’s got a fever,” suggested the mate, rub-
bing his bristly chin.
“Fever nothin’! Not after bein’ in th’ water half an
hour. Mebbe she hit one 0’ them wooden floats we left.
Them dinged liners keep on crowdin’ us,” growled
Barnes, with a fisherman’s hate for the floating hotels.
“Went by without a toot. See ’er, jes’ like the banker’s
wife goin’ t’ church on Sunday? A mile a minute; fog
or no fog, it’s all the same t’ them. They run us down
and never stop. What th’ tarnation we goin’ to do?
She’ll haif t’ stay aboard till th’ run is over. I can’t
afford t’ yank up my mudhook this time 0’ day.”
“Guess she can stand three ’r-four days in our com-
pany, smellin’ oilcloths, fish, kerosene, an’ punk t’bacco.”
“If y’ don’t like th’ kind 0’ t’bacco I buy buy your
own. I ain’t objectin’ none.”
The mate stepped over to the bunk and gingerly ran
his hand over the girl’s head. “Cod’s whiskers, Cap’n,
they’s a bump as big’s a cork on th’ back 0’ her head!
She’s struck one 0’ them floats all right. Where’s the
arnica P” .
Barnes turned to his locker and rummaged about,’
finally producing an ancient bottle and some passably
clean cloth used frequently for bandages. Sometimes a
man grew careless with his knife or got in the way of a
pulley block. With blundering kindness the two men
bound up the girl’s head, and then went about their
duties.


132 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
For three days Florence evinced not the slightest in-
clination to leave the bunk. She lay on her back either
asleep or with her eyes staring at the beams above her
head. She ate just enough to keep her alive; and the
strong black coffee did nothing more than to make her
wakeful. No one knew what the matter was. There
was the bump, now diminished; but that it should leave
her in this comatose state vastly puzzled the men. The
truth is she had suffered a slight concussion of the brain,
and this, atop of all the worry she had had for the last
few weeks, was sufficient to cause this blankness of the
mind.
The final cod was cleaned and packed away in salt,
the mudhook raised, and the schooner Betty set her sails
for the southwest. Barnes realized that to save the girl
she must have a doctor who knew his business. Mrs.
Barnes would know how to care for the girl, once she
knew what the trouble was. There would be some news
in the papers. A young and beautiful woman did not
jump from a big Atlantic liner without the newspapers
getting hold of the facts.
A fair wind carried the Betty into her haven, and
shortly after Florence was sleeping peacefully in a
feather bed, ancient, it is true, but none the less soft
.and inviting. In all this time she had not spoken a sin-
gle word.
“The poor young thing !” murmured the motherly Mrs.
Barnes. “What beautiful hair! Oh, John, I wish you
would give up the sea. I hate it. It is terrible. I am al-
ways watching you in my mind’s eye, in calm weather, in
storms. Pieces of wrecks come ashore, and I always
wonder over the death and terror back of them.”
“Don’t y’ worry none about me, Betty. I never take


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THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 133
no chances. Now I’m goin’ int’ th’ village an’ bring back
th’ sawbones. He’ll tell us what t’ do.”
The village doctor shook his grizzled head gravely.
“She’s been hurt and shocked at the same time. It
will be many days before she comes around to herself.
Just let her do as she pleases. Only keep an eye on her
so that she doesn’t wander off and get lost. I’ll watch
the newspapers and if I come across anything which
bears upon the case I’ll notify you.”
But he searched the newspapers in vain, for the simple
fact that he did not think to glance over the old ones.
The village took a good deal of interest in the affair.
They gossiped about it and strolled out to the Barnes’
cottage to satisfy their curiosity.~ One thing was certain
to their simple minds : some day Barnes would get a great
sum of money for his kindness. They had read about
such things in the family story paper. She was a rich
man’s daughter; the ring on the unknown’s finger would
have fitted out a fleet.
Florence was soon able to walk about. Ordinary con-
versation she seemed to understand; but whenever the
past was broached she would shake her head with frown-
ing eyes. Her main diversion consisted of sitting on the
sand dunes and gazing out at sea.
One day a stranger came to town. He said he repre-
sented a life insurance company and was up here from
Boston to take a little vacation. He sat on the hotel
porch that evening surrounded by an admiring audience.
The stranger had been all over the world, so it seemed.
He spoke familiarly of St. Petersburg, Vladivostok,
Shanghai, as the villagers—some of them—might have
spoken of Boston.
There were one or two old-timers among the audience.


134 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
They had been to all these parts. The stranger knew
what he was telling about. After telling of his many
voyages he asked if there was a good bathing beach near
by. He was told that he would find the most suitable spot
near Captain Barnes’ cottage just outside the village.
“An’ say, Mister, seen anythin’ in th’ papers about a
imissin’ young woman P” asked some one.
“Missing young woman? What’s that?”
The man told the story of Florence’s leap into the sea
and her subsequent arrival at the cape.
“That’s funny,” said the stranger. “I don’t recollect
reading about any young woman being lost at sea. But
those big liners are always keeping such things under
cover. Hoodoos the ship, they say, and turns prospective
passengers to other lines. It hurts business. What’s the
young girl look like P”
Florence was described minutely. The stranger teetered
in his chair and smoked. Finally he spoke.
“She probably was insane. That’s the way generally
with insane people. They can’t see water or look off a
tall building without wanting to jump. My business is
insurance, and we’ve got the thing figured pretty close to
the ground. They used to get the best of us on the sui-
cide game. A man would take out a large policy to-day
and to-morrow he’d blow his head off, and we’d have
to pay his wife. But nowadays a policy is not worth the
paper it’s written on if a man commits suicide under two
years.”
“You ain’t tryin’ to insure anybody in town, are you P”
“Oh, no. No work for me when I’m on my vacation.
Well, I’m going to bed; and to-morrow morning I’ll go
out to Captain Barnes’ beach and have a good swim. I’m
no sailor, but I like water.”


meMIQQ .mmg NAMHZHOE NEH QHMDEMDE :_OZH~.~H UZDON MOOH Nun.
:


w'f


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 135
He honestly enjoyed swimming. Early the next mom-
ing he was in the water, frolicking about as playfully as
_ a boy. He had all the time in the world. Over his
shoulder he saw two women wandering down toward the
beach. Deeper he went, farther out. He was a bold
swimmer, but that did not prevent a sudden and violent
attack of cramps. And it was a rare piece of irony that
the poor girl should save the life of that scoundrel who
was without pity or mercy. As she saw his face a startled
frown marred her brow. But she could not figure out
the puzzle. Had she ever seen the man before? She did
not know, she could not tell. Why could not she re-
member? Why must her poor head ache so when she
tried to pierce the wall of darkness which surrounded
her mentally?
The man thanked her feebly, but not in his heart.
When he had sufficiently recovered he returned to the
village and sought the railway station, where the West-
ern Union had its office.
“I want to send a code message to my firm. Do you
think you can follow it?”
“I can try,” said the operator.
The code i as really Slav ; and when the long message
was signed it was signed by the name Vroon.
The day after the news came that Florence had jumped
overboard off the banks, Vroon with a dozen other men
had started out to comb all the fishing villages along the
New England coast. Somewhere along the way he felt
confident that he would learn whether the girl was dead
or alive. If she was dead then the game was a draw, but
if she was alive there was still a fighting chance for the
Black Hundred. He had had some idea of remaining in
the village and accomplishing the work himself ; but after


136 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
deliberation he concluded that it was important enough
for Braine himself to take a hand in. So the following
night he departed for Boston, from there to New York.
He proceeded at once to the apartment of the countess,
. where Braine declared that he himself would go to the
obscure village and claim Florence as his own child. But
to insure absolute success they would charter Morse’s
yacht and steam right up into the primitive harbor.
When Vroon left the apartment Norton saw him. He
was a man of impulses, and he had found by experience
that first impulses are generally the best. He did not
know who Vroon was. Any man who called on the
Countess Perigoff while Braine was with her would be
worth following.
On the other hand, Vroon recognized the reporter in-
stantly and with that ever-ready and alert mind of his set
about to lure the young man into a trap out of which he
might not easily come.
Norton decided to follow his man. He might be going
on a wild-goose chase, he reasoned; still his first im-
pulses had hitherto served him well. He looked care—
worn. He was convinced that Florence was dead, de-
spite the assertions of Jones to the contrary. He had
gone over all the mishaps which had taken place and he
was now absolutely convinced that his whilom friend
Braine and the Countess Perigoif were directly concerned.
Florence had either been going to or coming from the
apartment. And that memorable day of the abduction
the countess had been in the dry goods shop.
Vroon took a down-town surface car, and Norton
took the same. He sat huddled in a corner, never sus-
pecting that Vroon was watching him from a corner of


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 137
his eye. Norton was not keen to-day. The thought of
Florence kept running through his head.
The car stopped and Vroon got off. He led Norton a
winding course which at length ended at the door of a
tenement building. Vroon entered. Norton paused
wondering what next to do, now that his man had reached
his destination. Well, since he had followed him all this
distance he must make an effort to find out who he was
and what he was going to do. Cautiously he entered the
hallway. As he was about to lay his hand on the newel
post of the dilapidated stairs the floor dropped from un-
der his feet and he was precipitated into the cellar.
This tenement belonged to the Black Hundred; it con-
cealed a thousand doors and a hundred traps. Its history
was as dark as its hallways.
When Vroon and his companion, who had been waiting
for him, descended into the cellar they found the reporter
insensible. They bound, blindfolded, and gagged him.
“Saunders,” said Vroon, “you tell Corrigan that I’ve
a sailor for him to-night, and that- I want this sailor
booked for somewhere south of the equator. Tell him to
say to the master that this fellow is ugly and disobedient.
A tramp freighter, whose captain is a bully. Do you un-
derstand me P” v
“I get you. But there’s no need to go to Corrigan this
trip. Bannock is in port and sails to-night for Norway.
That’s far enoug .”
“Bannock? The very man. Well, Mr. Norton, re-
porter and amateur detective, I guess we’ve got you fast
enough this time. You may or may not come back alive.
Go and bring around a taxi; some one you can trust. I’ll
dope the reporter while you’re gone.”


138 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
Long hours afterward Norton opened his aching eyes.
He could hardly move and his head buzzed abominably.
What had happened? What was the meaning of this
slow rise and fall of his bed? Shanghaied?
“Come out 0’ that now, ye skulker l” roared a voice
down the companionway.
“Shanghaied l” the reporter murmured. He sat up
and ran through his pockets. Not a sou-markee, not a
match even; and a second glance told him that the clothes
he wore were not his own. “They’ve landed me this
time. Shanghaied! What the devil am I going to do P”
“D’ye hear me P” bawled the strident voice again.
Norton looked about desperately for some weapon of
defense. He saw an engineer’s spanner on the floor by
the bunk across the way, and with no small physical ef-
fort he succeeded in obtaining it. He stood up, his hand
behind his back.
“All right, me bucko! I’ll come down an’ git ye!”
A pair of enormous boots began to appear down the
companionway, and there gradually rose up from them a
man as wide as a church door and as deep as a well.
“Wait a moment,” said Norton, gripping the spanner.
“Let us have a perfect understanding right off the bat.”
“We’re going to have it, matey. Don’t ye worry none.”
Norton raised the spanner, and, dizzy as he was, faced
this seafaring Hercules courageously.
“I’ve been shanghaied, and you know it. Where are
we bound P”
“Copenhagen.”
“Well, for a month or more you’ll beat me up whenever
the opportunity offers. But I merely wish to warn you
that if you do you’ll find a heap of trouble waiting for





“com: our 0’ THAT NOW”





THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 139
you the next time you drop your mudhook in North
America.”
“Is that so P” said the giant, eying the spanner and the
shaking hand that held it aloft.
“It is. I’ll take your orders and do the best I can, be-
cause you’ve got the upper hand. But, God is witness,
you’ll pay for every needless blow you strike. Now
what do you want me to do P”
“Lay down that spanner an’ come on deck, I’ll tell ye
what t’ do. I was goin’ t’ whale th’ daylights out 0’ ye;
but ye’re somethin’ av a man. Drop the spanner first.”
Norton hesitated. As lithe as a tiger the bulk of a man
sprang at him and crushed him to the floor, wrenching
away the spanner. Then the giant took Norton by the
scruff of his neck and banged him up the steps to the deck.
“I ain’t goin’ t’ hurt ye. I had t’ show ye that no
spanner ever bothered Mike Bannock. Now, (1’ know
what a cook’s galley is P”
“I do,” said Norton, breathing hard.
“Well, hike there an’ start in with peelin’ spuds, an
don’t waste ’em neither. That’ll be all fer th’ present. Ye
were due for a wallopin’ but I kinda like yer spunk.”
So Jim stumbled down to the cook’s galley and grimly
set to work at the potatoes. It might have been far worse.
But here he was, likely to be on the high seas for months,
and no way of notifying Jones what had happened. The
outlook was anything but cheerful. But a vague hope
awoke in his heart. If they were still after him might it
not signify that Florence lived. _
Meantime Braine had not been idle. According to
Vroon the girl’s memory was in bad shape; so he had not
the least doubt of bringing her back to New York without


140 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
mishap. Once he had her there the game would begin in
earnest. He played his cards exceedingly well. Steam-
ing up into the little fishing harbor with a handsome yacht
in itself would allay any distrust. And he wore a capital
disguise, too. Everything went well till he laid his hand
on Florence’s shoulder. She gave a startled cry and ran
over to Barnes, clinging to him wildly.
“No, no!” she cried.
“Now what, my child P” asked the sailor.
She shook her head. Her aversion was inexplicable.
“Come, my dear; can’t you see that it is your father P”
Braine turned to the captain. “She has been like this
for a year. Heaven knows if she’ll ever be in her right
mind again,” sadly. “I was giving her an ocean voyage,
with the kindest nurses possible, and yet she jumped over-
board. Come, Florence.”
The girl wrapped her arms all the tighter around
Barnes’ neck.
An idea came into the old sailor’s head. “Of course,
sir, ye’ve got proof thet she’s your daughter P”
“Proof P” Braine was taken aback. -
“Yes; somethin’ t’ prove that you’re her father. I got
skinned out of a sloop once because I took a man’s word
at its face value. Black an’ white, an’ on paper, says I,
hereafter.”
“But I never thought of such a thing,” protested
Braine, beginning to lose his patience. “I can’t risk
sending to New York for documents. She is my daugh-
ter, and you will find it will not pay to take this peculiar
stand.” '
“In black an’ white, ’r y’ can’t have her.”
Braine thereupon rushed forward to seize Florence.
Barnes swung Florence behind him.





142 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
keep an eye on it. She may take it into her head'to
jump overboard.”
Even the temporarily demented are not without a spe-
cies of cunning. Florence had never seen Braine till he
appeared at the Barnes cottage. Yet she revolted at the
touch of his hand. On the second day out toward New
York she found a box of matches and blithely set fire to
her cabin, walked out into the corridor and thence to the
deck. When the fire was discovered it had gained too
much headway to be stopped. The yacht was doomed.
They put off in the boats and for half a day drifted
helplessly.
Fate has everything mapped out like a game of chess.
You move a pawn, and bang goes your bishop, or your
knight, or your king; or she lets you almost win a game,
and then checkmates you. But there is one thing to be
said in her favor—rail at her how we will, she is always
giving odds to the innocent.
Mike Bannock was in the pilothouse, looking over his
charts, when the lookout in the crow’s nest sang out:
“Two boats adrift off the port bow, sir!” And Bannock,
who was a first-class sailor, although a rough one, shouted
down the tube to the engine room. The freighter came
to a halt in about ten minutes. The castaways saw that
they had been noted, and pulled gallantly at, the oars.
There are some things which science, well advanced
as it is, can not explain. Among them is the shock
which cuts off the past and the countershock which re-
awakens memory. They may write treatise after treatise
and expound, but they never succeed in truly getting be-
yond that dark wall of mystery.
At the sound of Jim Norton’s voice and at the sight


‘1"


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 143
of his face—for subconsciously she must have been think-
ing of him all the while—a great blinding heat-wave
seemed to burn across her eyes, and when the effect
passed away she was herself again. A wild glance at
her surroundings convinced her that both she and her
lover were in danger. “Keep back,” whispered Jim.
“Don’t recognize me.”
“They believe that I’ve lost my mind, and I’ll keep that
idea in their heads. Sometime to-night I’ll find a chance
to talk to you.”
It took a good deal of cautious maneuvering to bring
about the meeting.
“They shanghaied me. And I thought you dead! It
was all wrong. It was a tr' ‘f that Perigofi woman,
and it succeeded. Girl, girl, love you better than life !”
“I know it now,” she said, and she kissed him. “Has
my father appeared yet P”
(‘NO.!,
“Do you know anything at all about him?” sadly.
“I thought I did. It’s all a jumble to me. But beware
of the man who brought you here. He is the head of
all our troubles; and if he knew I was on board he’d
kill me out of hand. He’d have to.”
Braine ofi’ered Bannock $1,000 to turn back as far as
Boston; and as Bannock had all the time in the world,
carrying no perishable goods, he consented. But he
never could quite understand what followed. He had put
Florence and Braine in the boat and landed them; but
when he went down to see if Braine had left anything
behind, he found that individual bound and gagged in his
bunk.


CHAPTER XI
HEN Jones received the telegram that Florence
was safe, the iron nerve of the man broke down.
The suspense had been so keenly terrible that the sudden
reaction left him almost hysterically weak. Three weeks
of waiting, waiting. Not even the scoundrel and his
wife who had been the principal actors in the abduction
had been found. From a eat ship in midocean they
had disappeared. Doubtless they had hidden among the
immigrants, who, for little money, would have fooled
all the officers on board. There was no doubt in Jones’
mind that the pair had landed safely at Madrid.
As for Susan, she did have hysterics. She went about
the room, wailing and laughing and wringing her hands.
You would have thought by her actions that Florence
had just died. The sight of her stirred the saturnine
lips of the butler into a smile. But he did not remon-
strate with her. In fact, he rather envied her freedom
in emotion. Man can not let go in that fashion; it is a
sign of weakness; and he dared not let even Susan see
any sign of weakness in him.
So the reporter had found her, and she was safe and
sound on her way to New York? Knowing by this time
something of the reporter’s courage, he was eager to learn
how the event had come about. When he had not had
a telephone message from Norton in forty-eight hours,
144




“I KNOW IT Now,” SHE SAID, AND snr: KISSED HIM





THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 145
he had decided that the Black Hundred had finally suc-
ceeded in getting hold of him. It had been something
of a blow; for while he looked with disfavor upon the
reporter’s frank regard for his charge, he appreciated
the fact that Norton was a stat? to lean on, and had be-
hind him all the power of the press, which included the
privilege of going everywhere even if one could not al-
ways get back.
As he folded the telegram and put it into his pocket, he
observed the man with the opera glasses over the way.
He shrugged. Well, let him watch till his eyes dropped
out of his head; he would only see that which was in-
tended for his eyes. Still, it was irksome to feel that no
matter when or where you moved, watching eyes ob-
served and chronicled these movements.
Suddenly, not being devoid of a sense of dry humor,
Jones stepped over to the telephone and called up her
highness the Countess Perigoff.
“Who is it?”
He was forced to admit, however reluctantly, that the
woman had a marvelously fine speaking voice.
“It is Jones, madam.”
“Jones?”
“Mr. Hargreave’s butler, madam.”
“Oh! You have news of Florence P”
“Yes.” It will be an embarrassing day for humanity
when some one invents a photographic apparatus by
which two persons at the two ends of the telephone may
observe the facial'expressions of each other.
“What is it? Tell me quickly.”
“Florence has been found, and she is on her way back
to New York._ She was found by Mr. Norton, the re-
porter.”


146 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY


“I am so glad! S
tell me the whole azing story ?”
“It would be ' eless, madam, for I know nothing ex-
cept what I ‘ arned from a telegram I have just re-
ceived. B no doubt some time this evening you might
risk a calf.”
“Ring up the instant she returns. Did she say what
train?”
“No, madam,” lied jones, smiling.
He hung up the receiver and stared at the telephone as
if he would force his gaze in and through it to the woman
at the other end. Flesh and blood! Well, greed was
stronger than that. Treacherous cat! Let her play;
let her weave her nets, dig her pits. The day would
come, and it was not far distant, when she would find
that the mild-eyed mongoose was just as deadly as the
cobra, and far more cunning.
The heads of the Black Hundred must be destroyed.
Those were the orders. What good to denounce them,
to send them to a prisoh from which, with the aid of
money and a tremendous secret political pull, they might
readily find their way out? They must be exterminated,
as one kills off the poisonous plague rats of the Orient.
A woman? In the law of reprisal there was no sex.
Shortly after the telephone episode (which rather
puzzled the countess) she received a wire from Braine,
which announced the fact that Florence and Norton had
escaped and were coming to New York on train No. 25,
and advising her to meet the train en route. She had to
fly about to do it.
When Captain Bannock released Braine, he had been
in no enviable frame of mind. Tricked, fooled by the
girl, whose mind was as unclouded as his own! She had
1 I come up at once and have you




HE HAD PUT FLORENCE AND BRAINE IN THE BOAT AND LANDED THEM


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148 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
He pulled out his pockets suggestively. “Not a postage
stamp. They’ll put us off at the next station. And,”
with a glance in the little mirror between the two win-
dows, “I shouldn’t blame them a bit.” He was unshaven,
he was wearing the suit substituted for his own; and
Florence, sartorially, was not much better 05.
She smiled, blushed, stood up, and turned her back
to him. Then she sat down again. In her hand she held
a small dilapidated roll of banknotes.
“I had them with me when they abducted me,” she
said. “Besides, this ring is worth something.”
“Thank the Lord l” he exclaimed, relievedly.
So there was nothing more to do but be happy; and
happy they were. They were quite oblivious to the pe-
culiar interest they aroused among the other passengers.
This unshaven young man, in his ragged coat and soiled
jersey; this beautiful young girl, in a wrinkled‘home- '
spun, her glorious blond hair awry; and the way they
looked at each other during those lulls in conversation
peculiar to lovers the world over, impressed the dther
passengers with the idea that something very unusual
had happened to these two.
The Pullman conductor was not especially polite; but
money was money, and the stockholders, waiting for their
dividends, made it impossible for him to reject it. The
regular conductor paid them no more attention than to
grumble over changing a tWenty-dollar bill.
So, while these two were hurrying on to New York, the
plotters were hurrying east to meet them. The two trains
met and stopped at the same station about eighty miles
from New York. The countess, accompanied by Vroon,
who kept well in the background, entered the car occu-
pied by the two castaways.


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 149
In the mirror at the rear of the car Norton happened
to cast an idle glance, and he saw the countess. Vroon,
however, escaped his eye.
“Be careful, Florence,” he said. “The countess is in
the car. The game begins again. Pretend that you sus-
pect nothing. Pretty quick work on their part. And
that’s all the more reason why we should play the comedy
well. Here she comes. She will recognize you, throw
her arms around you, and show all manner of effusive-
ness. Just keep your head and play the game.”
“She lied about you to me.”
“N o matter.”
“Oh!” cried the countess. She seized Florence in a
wild embrace. She was an inimitable actress, and Nor-
ton could not help admiring her. “Your butler tele-
phoned me! I ran to the first train out. And here you
are, back safe and sound! It is wonderful. Tell me all
about it. What an adventure! And, good heavens, Mr.
Norton, where did you get those clothes? Did you find
her and rescue her? What a newspaper story you’ll be
able to make out of it all! Now, tell me just what hap-
pened.” She sat down on the arm of Florence’s chair.
The girl had steeled her nerves against the touch of her.
And yet she was beautiful! How could any one so beau-
tiful be so wicked?
“Well, it began like this,” began Florence; and she de-
scribed her adventures, omitting, to be sure, Braine’s
part in it.
She had reached that part where they had been rescued
by Captain Bannock when a thundering, grinding crash
struck the words from her lips. The three of them were
flung violently to one side of the car amid splintering
wood, tinkling glass, and the shriek of steel against steel.


150 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
A low wail of horror rose and died away as the car
careened over on its side. The three were rendered un-
conscious and were huddled together on the floor, under
the uprooted chairs.
Vroon had escaped with only a slight cut on the hand
(from flying glass. He climbed over the chairs and pas-
sengers with a single object in view. He saw that all
three he was interested in were insensible. He quickly
examined them and saw that they had not received se-
rious injuries. He had but little time. The countess and
Norton would have to take their chance with the other
passengers. Resolutely he stooped and lifted Florence
in his arms and crawled out of the car with her. It was
a difficult task, but he managed it. Outside, in the con—
fusion, no one paid any attention to him. So he threw
the unconscious girl over his shoulder and staggered on
toward the road. -
It was fortunate that the accident had occurred where
it did. Five miles beyond was the station marked for the
arrest of Norton as an abductor and the taking in charge
of Florence as a rebellious girl who had run away from
her parents. If he could only reach the Swede’s hut,
where his confederates were in waiting, the game would
then be his.
After struggling along for half an hour a carriage was
spied by Vroon, and he hailed it when it reached his side.
“VVhat’s the trouble, mister?” asked the farmer.
“A wreck on the railroad. My daughter is badly hurt.
I must take her to the nearest village. How far is it?”
“About three miles.”
“I’ll give you twenty dollars for the use of that rig of
yours.”
“Can’t do it, mister.”


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 151.
“But it’s a case of humanity, sir !” indignantly. “You
are refusing to aid the unfortunate.”
The farmer thought it over for a moment. “All right.
You can have the buggy for twenty dollars. When you.
get to the village take the nag to Doc Sanders’ livery.
He’ll know what to do.”
“Thank you. Help me in with her.”
Vroon drove away without the least intention of going-
toward the village. As a result, when Florence came to
her senses she found herself surrounded by strange and
ominous faces. At first she thought they had taken her ‘
from the wreck out of kindness; but when she saw the.
cold, impassive face of the man Vroon she closed her eyes
and lay back in the chair. Well, ill and weak as she was,
they should find that she was not without a certain
strength.
In the meantime Norton revived and looked about in
vain for Florence. He searched among the crowd of
terrified passengers, the hurt and the unharmed, but she
was not to be found. He ran back to the countess and
helped her out of the broken car.
“Where is Florence P” she asked dazedly.
“God knows! Here, come over and sit down by the
fence till I see if there is a field telegraph.”
They had already erected one, and his message went
off with a batch of others. This time he was determined
not to trust to chance. The shock may have brought back
Florence’s recent mental disorder, and she may have
wandered off without knowing what she was doing. On
the other hand, she may have been carried off. And
against such a contingency he must be fortified. Money!
The curse of God was upon it; it was the trail of the
serpent, spreading poison in its wake.


152 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
By and by the countess was able to walk; and, sup
porting her, he led her to the road, along which they
walked slowly for at least an hour. They might very
well have waited for the relief train. But he could not
stand the thought of inactivity. The countess had her
choice of staying behind or going with him. He hated
the woman, but he could not refuse her aid. She had a
cut on the side of her head, and she limped besides.
They stopped at the first farmhouse, explained what
had happened, and the mistress urged them to enter.
She had seen no one, and certainly not a young woman.
She must have wandered off in another direction. She
ran into the kitchen for a basin and towel and proceeded
to patch the countess’ hurts.
The latter was extremely uneasy. That she should be
under obligation to Norton galled her. There was a spark
of conscience left in her soul. She had tried to destroy
him, and he had been kind to her. Was he a fool or was
he deep, playing a game as shrewd as her own? She
could not tell. Where was Vr00n? Had he carried
Florence ofl P
An hour later a man came in.
“Hullo! More folks from the wreck?”
“Where’s the horse and buggy, Jake P” his wife asked.
“Rented it to a man whose daughter was hurt. He
went to the village.” '
“Will you describe the daughter P” asked Norton.
The countess twisted her fingers.
The farmer rudely described Florence.
“Have you another horse and a saddle P”
“What’s your hurry P”
“I’ll tell you later. What I want now is the horse.”
' “What is to become of me P” asked the countess.


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 153
/'/
' “You will be in good hands,” he answered briefly. “I
am going to find out what has become of Florence. Is
there a deserted farmhouse hereabouts P” be asked of
the farmer.
“Not that I recollect.”
“Why yes, there is, Jake. There’s that old but about
two miles up the fork,” volunteered the wife. “Where
the Swede died last winter.”
“By jingo! I’m going into the village and see if that
man brought in the rig.”
“But get my horse first. My name is James Norton,
and I am on the Blade in New York. Which way do
I go?”
“First turn to the left. Come on; I’ll get the horse
for you.”
Once the horse was saddled, Norton set off at a run.
He was unarmed; he forgot all about this fact. His one
thought was to find the woman he loved. He was not
afraid of meeting a dozen men, not while his present fury
lasted.
And he fell into an ambush within a hundred yards
of his goal. They dragged him off the horse and buffeted
and mishandled him into the hut.
“Both of them!” said Vroon, rubbing his hands.
“I know you, you Russian rat!” cried Norton. “And
if I ever get out of this I’ll kill you out of hand! Damn
you!” '
“Oh, yes; talk, talk; but it never hurts any one,” jeered
Vroon. “You’ll never have the chance to kill me out of
hand, as you say. Besides, do you know my face?”
“I do. The mask doesn’t matter. You’re the man who
had me shanghaied. The voice is enoug .”
“Very good. That’s what I wished to know. That’s


154 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
your death warrant. We’ll do it like they used to do at
the old Academy; tie you to the railroad track. We shall
not hurt you at all. If some engine runs over you heaven
is witness we did not guide the engine. Remember the
story of the boy and the cat P” with sinister amiability.
“The boy said he wasn’t pulling the cat’s tail, he was
,only holding it; the cat did the pulling. Bring him along,
men. Time is precious, and we have a good deal to do
'before night settles down. Come on with him. The
track is only a short distance.”
“Jim, Jim!” cried Florence in anguish.
“Never you mind, girl; they’re only bluffing. They
won’t dare.”
“You think so P” said Vroon. “Wait and see.” He
turned upon Florence. “He is your lover. Do you
wish him to die ?”
“No, no !”
“We promise to give him his freedom twelve hours
from now on condition that you tell where that money is.”
“Florence!” warned Norton.
Vroon struck him on the mouth. “Be silent, you
scum!”
“It is in the chest Jones, the butler, threw into the
sound,” she said bravely. And so it might be for all she
knew.
Vroon laughed. “We know about where that is.”
“Florence, say nothing on my account. They are not
the kind of men who keep their word.”
“Eh?” snarled Vroon. “We’ll see about that.” He
glanced at his watch. “In half an hour the freight comes
along. It may become stalled at the wreck. But it will
serve.”
Norton knew very well that if need said must they




THEY BOUND FLORENCE AND LEFT HER SEATED IN THE CHAIR


a.
<~_|~.~..
-~- a-r- k... .. Ha __, .


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 155
\
would not hesitate to execute a melodramatic plan of this
character. It was the way of the Slav; they had to make
crime abnormal in order to enjoy it. They could very
well have knocked him on the head then and there and
have done with him. But the time used in conveying
him to the railroad might prove his salvation. Nearly
four hours had passed since the sending of the telegram
to Jones.
They bound Florence and left her seated in the chair.
As soon as they were gone she rolled to the floor. She
was able to right herself to her knees, and after a tor-
turous five minutes reached the fireplace. She burnt her
hands and wrists, but the blaze was the only knife ob-
tainable. She was free. ‘
Jones arrived with half a dozen policemen. Vroon
alone escaped.
The butler caught Florence in his arms and nearly
crushed the breath out of her. And she was so glad to
see him that she kissed him half a dozen times. What if
he was her father’s butler? He was brave and loyal
and kind.
“They tied him to the track,” she cried. “Look at my
wrists l” The butler did so, and kissed them tenderly.
“And I saved him.”
Jones stretched out a hand over Florence’s shoulder.
“When the time comes,” he said; “when the right time
comes and my master’s enemies are confounded. But al—
ways the rooks, never the hawks, do we catch. God
bless you, Norton! I don’t know what I should have
done without you.” '
“When a chap’s in love,” began Norton, embarrassedly.
“I know, I know,” interrupted Jones. “The second re-


156 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
lief train is waiting. Let us hurry back. I shan't feel
secure till we are once more in the house.”
So, arm in arm, the three of them went down the
tracks to the hand-car which had brought the police.
And now for the iron-bound chest at the bottom of
the sea.


CHAPTER XII
DIPSY-CHANTY, if you please; of sailormen in
Ajerseys and tarry caps, of rolling gaits, strong to-
bacco and diverse profanity; of cutters, and blunt-nosed
schooners, and tramps, canvas and steam, some of them
honest, some of them shady, and some of them pirates
of the first water who did not find it necessary to hoist
aloft the skull and bones. The seas are dotted with them.
They remind you of the once prosperous merchant, run
down at the heel, who slinks along the side streets,
ashamed to meet those he knew in the past. You never
hear them mentioned in the maritime news, which is the
society column of the ships; you know of their existence
only by the bleached bones of them, strewn along the
coast.
You who crave adventures on high seas, you purchase
a ticket, a steamer chair, and a couple of popular novels,
go on board to the blare of a very indifferent brass band,
and believe you are adventuring; when, as a matter of
fact, you are about to spend a dull week or a fortnight
‘on a water hotel, where the most exciting thing is the
bugle’s call to meals or the discovery of a card sharp in
the smoking-room. Take a real ship, go as supercargo,
to the South Seas; take the side streets of the ocean, and
learn what it can do with hurricanes, typhoons, blister-
ing calms, and men’s souls. There will be adventure
157


158 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
enough then. If you are a weakling, either you are made
strong, or you die.
An honest ship, but run down at the heel, rode at an-
chor in the sound, a fourth-rater of the hooker breed;
that is, her principal line of business was hauling barges
up and down the coast. When she could not pick up
enough barges to make it pay, why she’d go gallivanting
down to Cuba for bales of tobacco or even to the Ber-
mudas for the heaven-smelling onion. To-day she was
an onion ship; which precludes any idea of adventure.
She was about four thousand tons, and her engines were
sternward and not amidship. She carried two masts and
a half-dozen hoist booms, and the only visible sign of
anything new on her was her bowsprit. This was new
doubtless because she had poked her nose too far into her
last slip.
Her crew was orderly and tractable. There were shore
drunks, to be sure, because they were sailors; but they
were at work. They moved about briskly, for they were
on the point of sailing for the Bahamas—perhaps for
more onions. Presently the Windlass creaked and shrilled,
and the blobby lin‘ks, much in need of tar paint, red as fish
gills, clattered down into the bow. Sometimes they
painted the chain as it came over; but paint was costly,
and this was done only when the anchor threatened to
stay on the bottom. '
There was a sailor among this crew, and he went by
the name of Steve Blossom; and he was one of his kind.
A grimy dime novel protruded rakishly from his hip
pocket, and his right cheek was swollen as with the tooth-
ache, due, probably, to a generous “chaw” of Seaman’s
Delight. He was a real tobacco chewer, for he rarely
spat. He was as peaceful as a backwater bay in sum-
~ I‘IWW


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 159
mer ; non-argumentative and passive, he stood his watch
in fair weather and foul.
No one gave the anchor any more attention after it
came to rest. The great city over the way was fairy-like
in its haziness and softened lines. It was the poetry. of
angles, of shafts and spars of stone; and Steve Blossom,
having a moment to himself, leaned against the rail and
stared regretfully. He had been generously drunk the
night before, and it was a pleasant recollection. Chance
led his glance to trail down the cutwater. His neck
stretched from his collar like a turtle’s from its shell.
“Well, I’ll be hornswoggled!” he murmured, shifting
his cud from starboard to port.
Caught on the fluke of the anchor was the strangest
looking box he had ever laid eyes on. There were leather
and steel bands and diamond-shaped ivory and mother of
pearl, and it hung jauntily on the point of the rusty fluke.
_ Anybody would be hornswoggled to glimpse such a droll
jest of fate. On the fluke of the old mudhook, by a hair,
you might say. In all the wild sea yarns he had ever
read or heard there was nothing to match this.
Treasure!
And Steve was destined never to be passive again. His
first impulse was to call his companions; his second im-
pulse was to say nothing at all, and wait for an opportu-
nity to get the box to his bunk without being detected.
Treasure! Diamonds and rubies and pearls and old
Spanish gold; and all hanging to the fluke of the
anchor.
“Hornswoggled l” in a kind of awesome whisper this
time. “An’ we a-headin’ for th’ Bahamas!” For under
his feet he could hear the rhythm of engines. “What’ll
I do? If I leave it, some one else’ll see it.” He scratched


160 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
his chin perplexedly; and the cud went back to star-
board. “I got it!”
He took off his coat and carefully dropped it down
over the mysterious box. It was growing darker and
darker all the time, and shortly neither coat nor anchor
would be visible without close scrutiny. Treasure: greed,l
cupidity, crime. Steve saw only the treasure and not its
camp followers. What did they call them P—doubloons
and pieces—of—eight?
He ate his supper with his messmates, and he ate
heartin as usual. It would have taken something more
vital than mere treasure to disturb Steve Blossom’s ap-
petite. He was one of those enviable individuals whose
imagination and gastric juices work at the same time. And
while he ate he planned. In the first place, he would buy
that home at Bedford; then he would take over the Gil-
son House and live like a lord. If he wanted a drink,
all he would have to do would be to turn the spigot or tip
a bottle; and more than that, he’d have a bartender to
do it. Onions! He swore he would not have an onion
within a mile of the Gilson House. “Onions!” Quite un-
consciously he spoke the words aloud.
“Huh? Well, if ye don’t like onions, find a hooker
that packs violets in her hold,” was the cheerful advice
of the man at Steve’s elbow.
“Who’s talkin’ t’ you P” grunted Steve. “Wha’ did I
say P”
“Onions, ye lubber! Don’t we know whut onions is?
Ain’t we smelt ’em so long that ye could stick yer nose in
th’ starboard light an’ never smell no kerosene? Onions!
Pass th’ cawffy.”
Steve helped himself first. The man who spoke
bunked over him, and they were not on the best of terms.


162 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
ardous job to get the box off the fluke without letting it
slip back into the sea. Steve, however, accomplished the
feat, climbed back on the rail and sat down, waiting. A
quarter of an hour passed. No one had seen him. With
his coat securely wrapped about his precious find he
made for the forecastle. His mates, save those who were
doing their watch, were all in their bunks. An oil lamp
dimly illuminated the forward partition. Steve’s bunk was
almost in darkness. Very deftly he rolled back the bed-
ding and secreted the box under his pillows, and then
stretched himself out with the pretense of snoozing till
the bell called him to duty.
He was rich; and the moment a man has money he
has troubles; there is always some one who wants to
take it away from you. His bunk was on the port side,
and there was plenty of hiding space between the iron
plates and the wooden partition. He intended to loosen
three or four planks, and then when the time came, slip
the box behind them. Some time during the morning
the forecastle would be empty, and then would be his
time. I
But he suffered the agonies of damnation during the
four-hours’ watch. Supposing some fool should go rum-
maging about his bunk and discover the box? Suppose '
. But he dared not suppose. There was nothing to
do but wait. If he created any curiosity on the part of his
mates he was lost. He would have to divide with them
all, from the captain down to the cook’s boy. It was a
heart-rending thought. From being the most open and
frank man aboard, he became the most cunning. From
being a man without enemies, he saw an enemy even in
his shadow.
At four o’clock he turned in and slept like a log.


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 163
In the morning he found his opportunity. For half
an hour the forecastle was empty of all save himself.
Feverishly he pried back the boards, found the brace
beam, and gently laid the box there. It was a mighty
curious-looking box. Once he had stoked up the Chinese
coast from the Philippines, and he judged it to be Chi-
nese in origin. He tried to pry open the cover and feast
his eyes upon the treasure; but under the leather and
ivory and mother of pearl was impervious steel. It
would take an ax or a crowbar to stir that lid. He sighed.
He replaced the boards, and became to all appearances
his stolid self again.
But all the way down to the Bahamas he was moody,
and when he answered any questions it was with words
spoken testily and jerkily.
“I know whut’s th’ matter,’
love.”
“Shut your mouth!”
“Didn’t I tell yuh?” laughed the tantalizer, dancing
toward the companionway. “Steve’s in love, ’r he didn’t
git drunk enough on shore t’ satisfy his whale’s belly!”
A boot thudded spitefully against the door jamb.
“You fellahs let me alone, ’r I’ll bash in a couple 0’
heads l”
“Oh, yuh will, will yuh ?” cried Dunkers from the deck.
“If yuh want a little exercise, yuh can begin on me, yuh
moonsick swab! Whut’s th’ matter with yuh, anyhow?
Where’d yuh git this grouch? Whut’ve we done t’ yuh?
Huh?”
“You keep out o’ my way, that’s all. I’m mindin’ my
watches, an’ don’t ask no odds of you duffers. What if
I have a grouch? Is it any 0’ your business? All right.
When we step ashore at th’ Bahamas, Mister Jim Dunk-
7
said Dunkers. “He’s in


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 165
wanted to; devil a bit did he care. So he pried back the
boards of his bunk wall, took out the box, eyed it fondly,
and noted for the first time the lettering on it:
STANLEY HARGREAVE.
He wrinkled his brow in the effort to recall a pirate
by this name, but was unsuccessful. No matter. He
hugged the box under his coat and made for the gang-
way, and inadvertently ran into his enemy.
Dunkers caught a bit of the box peeping from under
the coat.
“What ’a’ yuh got there P” he demanded truculently.
“None 0’ your dam business! You lemme by ; hear me P”
“Ain’t none 0’ my business, huh? Where’d yuh git a
box like that? Steal it? By cripes, I’m goin’ t’ have a
look at that box, my hearty. It don’t smell like honest
onions.”
“You lemme by !” breathed Steve, with murder in his
heart. ‘
Suddenly the two men closed, surged back and forth,
one determined to take and the other to hold this mys-
terious box. Dunkers struggled to uphold his word:
not that he really wanted the box but to prove that he
was strong enough to take it if he wanted to. The name
on the box flashed and disappeared. It was a kind of
shock to him. He and Blossom went battering against
the rail; Dunker’s grip slipped and so did Blossom’s.
The result was that the box was catapulted into the sea. 7
With an agonizing cry, Blossom leaned far over. He saw
the box oscillate for a moment, then sink gracefully in a
zigzag course, down through the blue waters. Fainter
and fainter it grew, and at last vanished.


166 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
“I’m sorry, Steve; but yuh wouldn’t let me look at it,”
said Dunkers, contritely.
“Damn you; I’m goin’ t’ kill y’ for that !”
It became a real fight this time, fist and foot, tooth
and nail; one mad with the lust to kill and the other des-
perately intent on living. It was one of those contests
in which honor and fair play have no part. But for the
timely arrival of the captain and some of the crew Dunk-
ers would have been badly injured, perhaps fatally. They
hauled back Blossom, roaring out his oaths at the top
of his lungs. It took half an hour’s arguing to calm him
down. Then the captain demanded to know what it was
all about. And blubbering, Steve told him.
“Six hundred feet of water, if I’ve got my reckoning
right. The anchor lies in sixty feet, but the starboard side
drops sheer six hundred. You swab! Why didn’t you
bring the box to me? A man has a right to what he finds.
I’d have taken care of it for you till we got back to port.
I know; you were greedy; you thought I might want to
stick my fist into your treasure. And you’ll never find
it in six hundred feet of water and tangled, porous coral.
That’s what you get for being a blamed hog. As for
you,” and the captain turned to Dunkers, “get your dun-
nage and your pay and hunt for another boat back. I
won’t have no murder on board Captain Manners. And
the sooner you go, the better.”
“I’ll go, sir,” said Dunkers, readily enough. Had the
misfortune happened to him and had Blossom been the
aggressor, he would want his life. He understood. Like
the valet in Olivette, it was the time for disappearing.
“An’ keep out o’ my way. I’ll git y’ yet,” growled
Blossom.


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 167
“Keep your mouth shut,” said the mate, “or I’ll have
you put in irons, you pig!”
“All right, sir. I’ve said all I’m goin’ t’ say t’day ;” and
Blossom strode off.
“What was the box like ?” asked the captain of Dun-
kers. .
“Chinese contraption, sir; leastwise it looked that way
to me. Didn’t look as if it’d been in th’ water long, sir.
Somethin’ lost overboard by some private yacht, t’ my
thinkin’. I’ll keep out o’ Steve’s way. I’ll lay low on
shore, sir.”
And though Steve made a perfect range of the spot, he
never came back to find the mysterious box, never saw
the Gilson House back home, nor did he ever see Dunkers
again. On the voyage home he brooded continually, and
was frequently found blubbering ; and one night he
skipped his watch and went to Davy Jones’ locker.
Dunkers.had not told about the name he had seen on
the box; and Blossom had not thought to. The name
Hargreave had instantly brought back to Dunkers’ mind
the newspaper stories he had recently read. There was
no doubt in the world that this box belonged to the miss-
ing millionaire, who had drawn a million from his banks
and vanished; and, moreover, there was no doubt in
Dunkers’ mind that this million lay in the Bahaman
waters. It had been drawn up from the bottom of the
sound, under the path of the balloon. He proceeded,
then, to take a most'tninute range. It would require
money and partners; but half a loaf would be far better
than no loaf at all; and he was determined to return to
New York to find backing. Finding is keeping, on land
or sea.


168 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
- Now it happened that his favorite grog shop was a
cheap saloon across the way from the headquarters of
the Black Hundred; and Vroon occasionally dropped in,
for he often picked up a valuable bit of maritime news.
Dunkers was an old friend of the barkeeper, and he pro-
ceeded to pour and guzzle down his throat a very poor
substitute for whisky. He became communicative. He
bragged. He knew where there was a million, and all
he needed was a first-class diving bell. A year from now
he would not be drinking cheap whisky; he’d be steering
a course up and down Broadway and buying wine when
he was thirsty. He was no miser. But he had to have
a diving bell; and where the blue devil could he get one
with twelve dollars and an Ingersoll watch in his pocket?
From his table Vroon made a sign whichthe bartender
understood. Then he rose and approached Dunkers.
“I own a pretty good diving apparatus,” he said. “If
you’ve got the goods, I’ll take a chance on a fifty-fifty
basis.” Vroon did not believe there was anything back
of his talk; but it always paid to dig deep enough to find
out. “Have a drink; and, Bill, give us a real whisky and
none of your soap-lye. Now, let’s hear your yarn.”
“I don’t know yuh,” said Dunkers, with drunken cau—
tion. “How is it, Bill?” turning to the bartender.
“He’s the goods, Jim. You’ve heard of Wyant & Co. ?”
“Sure I’ve heard 0’ them. Best divin’ app’ratu
they is.” -
“Well, this gent here is Mr. Brooks, general manager
for Wyant & Co. I can O. K. him.”
Vroon threw an appreciative glance at the bartender.
He was not affiliated with the Black Hundred, but he had
often aided Vroon in minor affairs.
“All right, if yuh say so. Bill. Well, here’s th’ yarn.”
“LEW


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 169
And when he had done, Vroon smoked quietly without '
speaking.
“Don’t yuh believe it P” demanded Dunkers, truculently.
“But six hundred feet of water, in a coral bottom, and
no way of telling just where it fell overboard. That’s a
tough proposition.”
“Oh, it is, is it? I’m a sailor. I can lay my hand right
over th’ spot. Do yuh think I’d be fool enough t’ hunt
for it without a perfect range?” Dunkers tapped his
coat pocket suggestively.
And Vroon knew that the one thing he wanted was
there, a plan or a drawing of the range. So there was
another man shanghaied that nightkand his destination
was Cape Town, twenty-two days’ voyage by the cal-
endar.
Vroon carried his information to the organization that
same night. They would start the expedition at once,
and till this was accomplished, Hargreave’s daughter was
to be immune from attacks. Besides, it would give Har-
greave (wherever he was) and the others the idea that
the Black Hundred had concluded to give up the chase.
Above, with his ear to a small hole, skilfully bored
through the ceiling without permitting the plaster to fall,
knelt a man with a bandaged arm. He could never see
any faces; no one ever took off a mask in this sinister
chamber. But there were voices, and he was going to
forget some of them. After the meeting came to an end,
he waited an hour, and then stole down into the street .by
the aid of the fire—escape. Later, he entered a telephone
booth and called up Jones.
Then, one leathern and steel box, dotted with bits of
ivory and mother-of-pearl, became two; and the second
one was soaked in mud and salt water for two weeks till


CHAPTER XIII
HE Black Hundred, not as individuals but as an
organization, began to worry. Powerful, and often
reckless and daring because it was powerful, it began to
look about for some basic cause for all these failures
against Hargreave’s daughter and Hargreave’s ghost.
They had tried to put the inquisitive reporter out of the
way; they had laid every trap they could think of to
catch the mysterious visitor at the Hargreave home; they
had thrown out a hundred lures to bring Hargreave out
of his lair, and failed; and they had lost a dozen valuable
men and several thousand dollars. This must end some-
where, and quickly.
The one ray of hope for the conspirators lay in the fact
that Florence had never seen her father and knew not in
the least what he lookedlike. They determined to try
again in this direction.
“Give it all up,” said the countess to Braine. “I tell
you, whatever is back of all this is stronger than we are.
He knows the organization, and for all we know he may
be a ghost.”
“I never go back,” smiled Braine. “There’s something
more than the million. There’s the sport of the thing.
We’ve been bested in a dozen bouts, and nearly always
by a fluke. They have the breaks, as they say out at the
Polo Grounds.”
171


'172 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
“But the time and expense when we might be getting
results elsewhere! I tell you, Leo, I’m afraid. It’s like
always hearing some one behind you and never finding
anybody when you turn. I have told you my doubts. I
have also asked you to trap that butler, but you’ve always
laughed.”
“You are seeing ghosts, Olga. A new man from holy
Russia,” shrugging, “is coming to-night. Evidently the
head over there thinks our contributions of late have not
been up to the mark, and they are going to stir us up. I
am willing to wager my soul, however, that that box is
simply a hoax to befuddle us. Either that or it holds the
key. But the rest of them insist that the box must be re-
covered. When I leave this room to-night I am going
over to Riverdale and stalk all by myself. I’m going to
get a glimpse of that mysterious stranger. He carries a
scar of mine somewhere, for I hit him that night.”
The door opened and the executive chamber became
silent.
“Count Paroff,” boomed the voice of Vroon. “He will
present his credentials.”
This formality was executed as prescribed by the rules ;
and Count Paroff was given his chair. He spoke for a
while, rather pompously.
“The head organization is not satisfied with its off-
spring in this Hargreave affair,” he said in conclusion.
“You are slow.”
“Then perhaps you have come with some suggestions
for the betterment of our business P” asked Braine iron-
ically.
“Sir, this is not the hour for fiippancy,” said the agent
coldly.
Braine made a sign with his hand, a sign not observed


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 173
by every one. Instantly Paroff bent lowly. He recog-
nized that the speaker was the actual, not the nominal,
head of the American branch.
“What are your suggestions?” inquired the nominal
head from his chair, anxious to avoid a clash between the
newcomer and the truculent master of them all.
“I have been informed that Hargreave’s daughter has
never seen her father, not even a photograph of him,”
said Paroff, more amiably.
“We are absolutely certain that this is the case,” said
the nominal head, who was known as the president. “But
we tried one play in that direction, and it failed miser-
ably.”
“I have the story,” replied Paroff. “It was clumsily
done. The ruse was an old one.”
Braine was frank enough to admit the truth of this
statement, however much he disliked the admission. He
nodded.
“I have authority to take a hand in this affair. We can
not waste all summer. Those government plans of the
fortifications of the Panama are waiting. There’s your
millions. But the fact remains that it is the law of the
Black Hundred never to step down till absolutely de-
feated. The hidden million is but half ; we must find and
break this renegade Hargreave.”
“If he lives,” said Braine.
“Who can say one way or the other?” bruskly asked
Paroff. “The fact that all your plans and schemes have
come to naught should prove to you that you are not
fighting a ghost. There is but one way to bring out the
truth.”
“And that is to make a captive of his daughter,” sup-
plemented Braine. “And we have worked toward that


174 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
end ceaselessly. We are quite ready to listen to your sug-
gestions, count.”
“And so am I,” thought the man with his ear to the
little hole in the ceiling above. “And some day, my ener-
getic friend, I’m going to pay you back for that bullet.”
Count Paroff cleared his voice and laid his plans before
his audience.
“To act frankly and in the open, to go boldly to the
Hargreave home and proclaim myself Hargreave. I can
disguise myself in a manner that will at least temporarily
fool the butler.”
“Who has been with his master for fourteen years,
knows every move, habit, gesture, inflection,” interposed
Braine. “But proceed, count, proceed. You will remem-
ber the old adage; too many cooks.”
“Ah,” flashed back the count, “but a new cook P”
Olga touched Braine’s arm warningly.
“You mean, then, that there has been talk in St. Peters-
burg of disposing of some one P”
“A good deal of talk, sir,” haughtily, forgetting that he
had bent humbly enough but a few moments gone.
“Very well; go on.”
Thought the man at the peephole above: “There’s an-
other adage. When thieves fall out, then honest men get
their dues. Yes, yes; proceed, proceed l”
Paroff went on. “I shall, then, go frankly to the Har-
greave house and claim my own. Meantime I leave to
you the business of luring the butler away. Half an hour
is all I need to bring that child here, to break the wall
that stands between us and what we seek.”
“Is that so P” murmured Braine. “Olga, I want you to
play a trick on this handsome delegate-at-large. I’m not
very enthusiastic over his talk. I want him humiliated.


176 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
inaudibly. After all these days of care and planning,
after all his cleverness in locating the rendezvous of the
Black Hundred, and now to lose his advantage because of
an uncontrollable sneeze! He would never dare go back,
and just when he was beginning to pick up fine bits of in-
formation! So Florence Hargreave was going to have a
new father in a day or so? There were some clever
rogues among this band of theirs; but their cleverness
was well offset by an equal number of fools.
Yes, there were some clever rogues, and'to prove this
assertion Braine secured a taxicab and drove furiously
away, his destination the home of his ancient enemy. He
dropped the cab a block or two away and presently stowed
himself away in the summer house at the left of the lawn.
It would have been a capital idea—that is, if the other
man had not thought of and anticipated this very thing.
So he used a public pay station telephone; and Braine
waited in vain, waited till the lights in the Hargreave
house went out one by one and it became wrapped in
darkness within and moonshine without.
Braine was a philosopher. He returned to his waiting
taxicab, drove home, paid the bill, smiling grimly, and
went to bed. It was going to be a wonderful game of
blind man’s buff, and it was going to be sport to watch
this fool Paroff blunder into a pit.
The next afternoon Florence and Norton sat in the
summer house talking of the future. Lovers are prone to
talk of that. As if anything else in the world ever equals
the present! They talked of nice little apartments and
vacations in the summer and how much they would save
out of his salary, and a thousand and one other things
which would not interest you at all if I recounted them in
detail. But they did love each other, and they were going
. - _w L ___Mt-*


THEY DID NOT CARE A SNAP OF THEIR


FINGERS 'WHAT JONES THOUGHT





THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 177
to be married; you may be certain of that. They did not-
care a snap of the finger what Jones thought. They were
going to be married, and that was all there was to it. Of
course, Florence couldn’t touch a penny of her father’s
money. If he, Norton, couldn’t take care of her without
help, why, he wouldn’t be worth the powder to blow him
up with.
“But, my dear, you must be very careful," he said.
“Jones and I will always be about somewhere. If they
really get hold of you once, God alone knows what will
happen. It is not you, it is your poor father they want
to bring out into the open. If they knew where he was
they would not bother you in the least.”
“Have I really a father? Sometimes I doubt. Why
couldn’t he steal into the house and see me, just once?”
“Perhaps he dares not. This house is always watched,
night and day, though you’ll look in vain to discover any
One. Your father knows best what he is doing, my dear
girl. You see, I met him years ago in China; and when
he started out to do a certain thing he generally did it.
He never botched any of his plans. 50 we all must wait.
Only I’m going to marry you all the same, whether he
likes it or not. The rogues will try to impose upon you
again; but do not pay any attention to notes or personals
in the papers. And it was a lucky thing that I was on
the freighter that picked you up at sea. I shall always]
wonder how that yacht took fire.”
“So 'shall I,” replied Florence, her brows drawing to-
gether in puzzlement. “Sometimes I think I must have
done it. You know, people out of their heads do strange
things. I seem to see myself as in a dream. And this
man Braine is a scoundrel !”
“Yes; and more than that, he is the dear friend of the


178 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
countess. But understand, you must never let her dream
or suspect that you know. By lulling her into overconfi~
dence some day she will naturally grow careless, and then
we’ll have them all. I think I_ understand what your
father’s idea is: not to have them arrested for blackmail,
(but practically to exterminate them, put them in prison
for such terms of years that they’ll die there. When you
see a snake, a poisonous one, don’t let it get away. Kill
it. Well, I must be off to work.” _
“And you be careful, too. You are in more danger
than I am.”
“But I’m a man and can dodge quick,” he laughed, pick-
ing up his hat.
“What a horrid thing money is! If I hadn’t any money,
nobody would bother me.”
“I would,” he smiled. He wanted to kiss her, but the
eternal Jones might be watching from the windows; and
so he patted her hand instead and walked down the
graveled path to the street.
It was difficult work for Florence to play at friend-
ship. She was like her father; she did not bestow it on
every one. She had given her friendship to the Russian,
the first real big friendship in her life, and she had been
roughly disillusioned. But if the countess could act, so
could she; and of the two her acting was the more con-
summate. She could smile and laugh and jest, all the
while her heart was burning with wrath.
One day, a week or so after her meeting with Norton
in the summer house, Olga arrived, beautifully gowned,
handsome as ever. There was not the least touch of the
adventuress in her makeup. Florence had just received
some mail, and she had dropped the letters on the library





SHE FIRST THOUGHT OF CHANGING THE CLOCK


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 179
table to greet the countess. She had opened them, but
had not yet looked at their contents.
They were chatting pleasantly about inconsequent
things, when the maid came in and asked Florence to
come to Miss Susan’s room for a moment. Florence ex-
cused herself, wondering what Susan could want. She
forgot the mail.
As soon as she was gone the countess, certain that
Jones was not lurking about, picked up the letters and
calmly examined their contents; and among them she
found this remarkable document: “Dear daughter I have
never seen: I must turn the treasure over to you. Meet
me at eight in the summer house. Tell no one, as my life
is in danger. Your loving father.”
The countess could have laughed aloud. She saw this
man Paroff’s hand; and here was the chance to befool
and humiliate him and send him off packing to his cold
and miserable country. She had made up once as Flor-
ence, and she could easily do so again. The only thing
that troubled her was the fact that she did not know
whether Florence had read the letter or not. Thus, she
did not dare destroy it. She first thought of changing
the clock; then she concluded to drop the letter exactly
where she found it and trust to luck.
When Florence returned she explained that her ab-
sence had been due to some trifling household affair.
Said the Russian: “I come primarily to ask you to tea
to-morrow, where they dance. If you like, you may ask
Mr. Norton to go along. I begin to observe that you two
are rather fond of each other.”
“Oh, Mr. Norton is just a valuable friend,” returned
Florence with a smile that quite deceived the other


180 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
woman. “I shall be glad to go to the tea. But I shall not
promise to dance.”
“Not with Mr. Norton P” archly.
“Reporters never dance themselves; they make others
dance instead.”
“I shall have to tell that,” declared the countess; and
she laughed quite honestly.
“Then I have said something witty P”
“Indeed you have; and it is not only witty but truth-
ful. I’m afraid you’re deeper than the rest of us have any
idea of.”
“Perhaps I am,” thought Florence; “at least deeper
than you believe.”
When the countess fluttered down to her limousine—
Florence hated the sight of it—and drove away, Flor-
ence remembered her letters. And when she came to the
one purporting to be from her father, she read it care-
fully, bent her head in thought, and finally destroyed the
missive, absolutely confident that it was only a trap, and
not very well conceived at that. Norton had given her
plenty of reason for believing all such letters to be for-
geries. Her father, if he really wished to see her, would
enter the house; he would not write. Ah, when would
she see that father of hers, so mysterious, always hover-
ing near, always unseen?
It must have been an amusing adventure for the
countess. To steal into the summer house and wait there,
not knowing if Florence had advised Jones or the re-
porter. If caught, she had her excuses. Parof’f, the con-
fident, however, appeared shortly after.
“My child!” whispered the man.
And Olga stifled a laugh; but to him it sounded like
a sob.
I



‘v ,‘ .‘l
“ F‘f’M; i' A.
-



HE TOOK HER STRAIGHT TO THE EXECUTIVE CHAMBER OF THE BLACK HUNDRED





CHAPTER XIV
ERHAPS the most amusing phase of the secret
Pagent’s discomfiture was the fact that neither Jones
nor Florence had the least idea what had happened.
Florence regretted a hundred times during the evening
that she had not gone out to the summer house. It might
really have been her father. Her regret grew so deep in
her that just before going to bed she confessed to Jones.
“You received a letter of that sort and did not show
it to me?” said Jones, astonished.
“You warned me never to pay any attention to them.”
“No; I warned you never to act upon them without
first consulting me. And we might have made a capture!
My child, always show me these things. I will advise you
whether to tear them up or not.”
“Jones, I believe you are going a little too far,” said
Florence haughtily. “It might have been my father.”
“Never in this world, Miss Florence. Still, I beg your
pardon for raising my voice. What I do and have done
is only for your own sake. There are two things I wish to
impress upon your mind before I go. This can be made
a comedy or a terrible tragedy. You have already had a
taste of the latter; and each time you escaped because
God was good to us. But He is rarely kind to thoughtless
182


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 183
people. They have to look out for themselves. I am act-
ing under orders; always remember that.”
“Forgive me; I acted wrongly. But I’m so weary and
tired of this eternal suspicion of everybody and every-
thing. Can’t I go somewhere, some place where I can
have rest P”
“If I thought for a single moment it was possible to
take you thousands of miles from this spot, it would be
done this very night. But this is our fortress. So far
it has been impregnable. The police are watching it; and
that prevents a general assault by the scoundrels. If we
tried to leave we would be followed; and they play the
game exceedingly well. N ow, good night. We’ll have
you out of all this doubt and suspicion one of these days.
There will not be any past; that will be lopped off as
you’d lop a limb from a tree.”
“Please let it be quick. I want to see my father.”
Jones’ eyes sparkled. “And you have my word that
he wants to see you. But I dare not tell you.”
“Do you think he would object to Mr. Norton P” she
asked, studying the rug.
“In what capacity P” he countered, forcing her hand.
“As—as a'husband P” bravely.
Jones in turn studied the patterns in the rug. “It is
only natural for a father to look high for his‘daughter’s
husband. But, after all, an honest man is worth as much
as anything I know-of. And Norton is honest and loyal,
and brave.”
“Thank you, Jones. I intend to marry him when the
time comes; so you may as well prepare father for this
eventuality.”
“There is an old adage—”
But she interrupted him. “If you have a new adage,


184 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
Jones, I shouldn’t mind hearing it. But I’m only just
out of school, where old adages are served from soup to
pudding._ Good night.”
And Jones went to the rear of the house, chuckling.
In the passing it might well be observed that the Har-
.greave house had a remarkable menage. There was a
gardener, a cook, and a maid; and the three of them re-
ported to Jones each night before going to bed. They
were all three detectives from one of the greatest or-
ganizations in America.
Finding themselves unable to lure Florence away from
the environs of the Hargreave home, the Black Hundred
set some new machinery in motion. They proposed to
rid the house of every one in it by a perfectly logical de-
vice. But the first step in this new move was going to
be extremely delicate and risky. It was no small ad-
venture to enter the Hargreave home; and yet this must
be done. So finally “Spider” Beggs was selected for the
work. The man could practically walk over crockery
without causing a sound; he could climb a house by the
window ledges; and he could hold his breath like those
professional tank swimmers.
Three or four nights after the Parofi fiasco, Jones
started the rounds, putting out the lights. He left the
one in the hall till the last, for it was his habit, after
‘_having turned off that light, to stand by the door for sev-
eral minutes, watching. One never could tell.
On the other hand, “Spider” Beggs never approached
a house till an hour after the lights went out. Persons
were likely to move about for some minutes later; they
might want something to eat, a drink of water. So he
remained hidden behind the summer house till long after
midnight. When at last he felt assured that, all in the






HERE WAS AN OPERATION THAT NEEDED ALL HIS CARE AND SKILL





THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 185
Hargreave house were asleep, he moved out cautiously.
Both his future and his pocketbook depended upon the
success of this venture. It took him ten minutes to crawl
from the summer house to the veranda, and to have de-
tected this approach Jones, had he been watching, would
have needed a searchlight. Beggs hugged the lattice-
;work for another ten minutes and then drew himself up
and wriggled to one of the windows. Here was an oper-
ation that needed all his care and skill; to lift this win-
dow without sound. But he was an old hand and win-
dows with ordinary locks were playthings under his deft
touch. He raised the window, stepped over the sill into
the library, and crouched down. He did not close the
window; house thieves never do. They leave windows
and doors open, because sooner or later they have to
make their escape that way.
Presently he stood up, flashed his torch, found the
library shelves, and tiptoed toward them. He then se-
lected three or four volumes, opened them at random
and laid neat packages of money between the leaves. It
was not real money, but only a bank clerk could have
told that. This done, he moved toward the window
again.
“Stop!” said Jones quietly.
“Spider” Beggs gasped, it was so unexpected; but at
the same time almost instinctively he plunged headlong
through the window, and the bullet which followed
snipped a lock of his hair. He threw himself off the
veranda and scurried across the lawn, zigzag fashion.
But no more bullets followed.
Jones turned on the lights and investigated the room,
but he could not find anything disturbed, and naturally
came to the conclusion that the intruder had been in-


186 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
terrupted before he had begun his work. He turned off
the lights and sat up the major part of the night. Noth-
ing more happened. Florence came down, but he sent
her back to bed, explaining that some one had attempted
to enter the house and he had taken a shot at him.
“Spider” Beggs had a letter to write. He was in
high feather. He had tackled a difficult job and had
come away without a scratch. But he had the misfor-
tune to write his letter to the secret service officials in a
hotel often frequented by Norton. And so Jim, on finish-
ing his own letter, blotted it and casually glanced at the
blotter. A single word caught his eye. Being an alert
newspaper man, always on the hunt for stories, he ex—
amined the blotter with care. It was an easy matter
for him to read writing backward, having fooled away
many an hour in the composing rooms. The word which
had awakened the reportorial sense in him was “counter-
feit.” He held the blotter toward the mirror and read
enough to satisfy himself that the Black Hundred had
become active once more. And this was one of the best
ideas they had yet conceived.
Hargreave had always been something of a mystery
to his neighbors. Where he had lived in other days was
unknown; neither had any one the remotest idea from
what source his riches had been obtained. And nothing
was known of Jones or the daughter. It was a very
ishrewd method of clearing every one out of the house
and leaving it to be examined at leisure. And he had
fallen upon this thing; he, Norton, all because his tailor
had written him a sharp note about his bill and he had
been provoked to reply in kind! Counterfeit money.
There was quite a flurry these days over certain issues
of spurious paper. It was so good that only experts could


‘(Q


Q—‘t-


HE EXAMINED THE BLOTTER WITH CARE
9“.





THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 187
detect There were two plates, one for a ten and am
other for a twenty. For a while he was pulled between
duty and love. Well, it would only add another interest-
ing chapter to the general story when he published it.
He started out to Riverdale to acquaint Jones with the
discovery.
“Humph !” said Jones; “not a bad idea this. So that’s
what the sngak was doing here last night. I’ve been won-
dering and wondering. Let’s have a look.”
He went through the books and at length came across
the three volumes. These held a thousand in excellent
counterfeit.
‘iMighty good work that. What are you going to do?”
asked the reporter.
Jones rubbed his chin refiectively.
counterfeiter be sent up?”
“Anywhere from ten to twenty years.”
“That will serve. My boy, this time we’ll go and take
Mr. Black Hundred right in his cubby-hole.”
“You know where it is P”
“Every nook and corner of it. Now you go at once to
the chief of the local branch of the secret service and put
the matter to him frankly. I, Florence, Susan, and the
rest of us must be arrested. The wretches must believe
that the house is empty. They’ll rove about fruitlessly
and will return to their den to report the success of the
coup. All the while you and some detectives will be in
hiding up-stairs, dictagraph and all that. When the time
comes you will follow. This will not reach the heads,
perhaps, but it will demoralize the organization in such
a way as to make it helpless for several months to come.
There is a tunnel from the stables to this house.”
“What, a tunnel?”
“How long may a


188 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
“Yes, Mr. Hargreave had it built several years ago.
I don’t know what his idea was; possibly he anticipated
an event like this. You and your men will find entrance
by this method. It can be done without exciting the .
suspicions of the watchers.”
I “Looks as if my yarn wasn’t going to be delayed so long
iafter all. Jones, you ought to have been in the secret
service yourself,” admiringly.
Jones smiled and shrugged. “I am perfectly satisfied
with my lot—or would be if the Black Hundred could be
wiped out of existence.”
“I’ll see the secret service people at once. I stand
in well with them all.”
“And good luck to you. We’ll need good luck.”
Norton was welcomed cordially by the chief. The
secret service men trusted him and told him lots of tales
that never saw light on the printed page. The reporter
went directly to the point of his story, without elabora-
tion, and the chief smiled and handed him the original
letter.
“Norton, I’ve been after this gang of counterfeiters
for months and they are clever beyond words. I’ve
never been able to get anywhere near their presses. And
for a moment I thought this note was from a squealer.
I’ve a dozen men scouring the country. They find the
bogus notes, but never the men who pass them. You see,
it’s new stuff. I know what all of the old-timers are at;
none of them has had a hand in this issue. Some for-
eigners, I take it, under the leadership of a man I’d
very much like to know. Now, what’s your scheme?”
Jim outlined it briefly.
“It all depends,” said the chief, “upon the fact that
they will be impatient. If they have the ability to wait,


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 189
we lose. But we can afford to risk the chance. The man
who wrote this letter is not a counterfeiter. He’s an old
yeggman. We haven’t heard anything of him lately.
We tried to corner him on a post-office job, but he slipped
by. He may be a stool. Anyhow, I’ll draw him in some-
how.”
“There’ll be some excitement.”
“We’re used to that ; you too. All we’ve got to do is
to locate this man Beggs. There are signs of spite in
this letter. Very well played, if you want my opinion.
What’s this Black Hundred P”
“I’m not at liberty to tell just yet. It’s a strange game;
half political, half blackmail. It’s a pretty strong or-
ganization. But if they’re-back of this counterfeiting,
there’s a fine chance of landing them all.”
Here the chief’s assistant came in. “Got Beggs on the
wire. Says he’ll conduct you to the home if you’ll prom-
ise him immunity for some other offenses.”
“Tell him he shall have immunity on the word of the
chief. But also say that he must come to see me in
person.”
“All right, sir.”
“I don’t believe it would be wise for Beggs to see me
here. ’ I gave him a good send-off—Sing Sing—five years
ago. He may recollect,” said Norton.
“Suit yourself about that. Only, keep in communica-
tion with me by telephone and I’ll tip you off as to when
the raid shall take place. Lucky you came in. I should
have honestly gone there and arrested innocent people,
and they would have had a devil of a time explaining.
It would have taken them at least a week to clear them-
selves. That would leave the house empty all that
time.”


190 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
Norton did not reply, but he put the blotter away care-
fully. There was no getting away from the fact, but the
god of luck was with him.
“Do you know what’s back of it all P”
“I can't tell you any more than I have,” said Norton.
“Then I pass. I know you well enough. If you’ve
made up your mind not to talk a man couldn’t get any-
thing out of you with a can-opener. And that’s why we
trust you, my boy. Don’t forget the telephone.”
“I shan’t. So long.”
That same night Braine paid the Russian woman a
brief visit.
“I think that here’s where we go forward. The secret
service will raid the house to-morrow and then for a few
days we’ll roam about as we bally please. I’m hanged if
I don’t have every plank torn up and the walls pulled
down. More and more I’m convinced that the money
is in that house.”
“Don’t be too confident,” warned Olga. “So many
times we have been tripped up when everything seemed
in our hands. The house should be guarded but not
entered for a day or two; at least not till after the raid
is cold. I’m beginning to see traps everywhere.”
“Nonsense! Leave it to me. We shan’t stick our
heads inside the Hargreave house till we are dead cer-
tain that it is absolutely empty. Olga, you’re a gem. I
don’t think Russia will bother us for a while. Eh?
Parofi will not dare tell how he was flimflammed. The
least he can do to save his own skin is to say that we are
fully capable of taking care of ourselves.”
Olga laughed. “To think of his writing a note like
that! Florence would have recognized—and no doubt
did—a palpable attempt to play an old game twice.”


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 191
“How does she act toward you?”
“Cordial as ever; and yet . . .”
“Yet what?”
“I thought her an ordinary schoolgirl, and yet every
once in a while she makes what you billiard players call
a professional shot. What matter? So long as they do
not shut the door in my face, I ask nothing more. But
do you want my opinion? I feel it in my bones that some-
thing will go wrong to—morrow.”
“Good lord, are you losing your nerve ?” cried Braine
impatiently. “The secret service has the warning; they
find the green stuff, and Jones & Co. will mog off to
the police station. And there’ll be a week of red tape
before they are turned loose again. They’ll dig into
Hargreave’s finances and all that. We’ll have all the se—
curity in the world to find out if the money is in the
house or not. Why worry?”
“It’s only the way I feel. There is something uncanny
in the regularity of that girl’s good luck.”
“Ah, but we’re not after her this time; it’s the whole
family.”
“The servants too?”
“Everybody in the house will be under suspicion.”
“And can you trust Beggs ?”
“His life is in the hollow of my hand. You can al-
ways trust a man when you hold the rope that’s around
his neck.” ,
Still the frown did not leave Olga’s brow. With all
her soul she longed to be out of this tangle. It had all
looked so easy at the start; yet here they were, weeks
later, no further forward than at the beginning, and
added to this they had paid much in lives and money.
Well, if she would be fool enough to love this man she


192 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
must abide with the consequences. She wanted him all
by herself, out of danger, in a far country. He might
tire, but she knew in her heart that she never would.
This was her one great passion, and while her mode of
living was not as honest as might be, her love was honest
enough and unswerving, though it was not gilded by the
pleasant fancies of youth.
“Of what are you thinking?” he asked when he con-
cluded that the pause had been long enough.
‘lYou-77
“H’m. Complimentary?”
“N 0; just ordinary every-day love.”
“Ah, Olga, why the deuce must you go and fall in love
with a bundle of ashes like myself? Ashes, and bitter
ashes, too. Sometimes I regret. But the regretting only
seems to make me all the more savage. What opium and
dope are to other men, danger and excitement are to me.
It is not written that I shall die in bed. I have told you
that already. There is no other woman—now. And I
do love you after a fashion, as a man loves a comrade.
Wait till this dancing bout is over and I may talk other-
wise. And now I am going to shake hands and hobnob
with the elite—beautiful word! And while I bow and
smirk and crack witticisms, I and the devil will be
chuckling in our sleeves. But this I’ll tell you, while
there’s a drop of blood in my veins, a breath in my body,
I’ll stick to this fight if only to prove that I’m not a
quitter.”
He caught her suddenly in his arms, kissed her, ran
lightly to the door, and was gone before she could re-
cover from her astonishment.
The affair went smoothly, without a hitch. Norton
and his men gained the house through the tunnel without


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 193
attracting the least attention. The Black Hundred, watch-
ing the front and rear of the house, never dreamed that
there existed another mode of entrance or that there
was a secret cabinet room.
Half an hour later the head of the secret service, ac—
,companied by his men, together with “Spider” Beggs,
who was in high feather over his success, arrived, de-
manded admittance, and went at the front of the business
at once.
“Your name is Jones?” began the chief.
The butler nodded, though his face evinced no little
bewilderment at the appearance of these men.
“What is it you wish, sir?”
“I am from the secret service and I have it from a
pretty good source that there is counterfeit money hidden
4 in this house. More than that, I can put my hand on the
very place it is hidden.”
“That is impossible, sir,” declared Jones indignantly.
~ “I am an old hand, Mr. Jones. It will not do you a
bit of good to put on that bold front.”
Beggs smiled. How was he to know that this was a
comedy set especially for his benefit?
“I should like to see that money,” said Jones, not quite
so bravely.
“Come with me,” said the secret service man. “Where’s
the library?”
“Beyond that door, sir.”
The chief beckoning to his men, entered the library,
went directly to a certain shelf, extracted three vol—
umes, and there lay the money in three neat packages.
“Good heavens l” gasped Jones.
“I shall have to request you and the family to accom-
pany me to the station.”





THE MEN RIOTED ABOUT THE HOUSE SEARCHING NOOKS AND CORNERS




_


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 195
hug the wall to the stairs. The trap yawned, but no one
was hurt. They scampered up the stairs like a lot of
eager boys; broke the door in—to find the weird execu-
, tive chamber dark and empty and an acrid smoke in their
nostrils. This latter grew stifling as they blundered
about in the dark. By luck Norton found the exit and
called to the men to follow. They saw Beggs at the top
of the stairway and called out to him to surrender. He
held up his hands and the stairs collapsed. Real fire
burst out and Norton and his companions had a desperate
battle with flame and smoke to gain the street.
The fire was put out finally, but there was nothing in
the ruins to prove that there had been a counterfeiting
den there. There was, however, at least one consoling
feature: in the future the Black Hundred would have
to hold their star-chamber elsewhere.
It was checkmate; or, rather, it was a draw.


CHAPTER XV_
F the truth is to be told, Jones was as deeply chagrined
over the outcome of the counterfeit deal as was
Braine. They had both failed signally to reach the goal
sought. But this time the organization had broken even
with Jones, and this fact disturbed the butler. It might
signify that the turning point had been reached, and that
in the future the good luck might swing over to the side
of the Black Hundred. Jones redoubled his cautions, re-
iterated his warnings, and slept less than ever. Indeed,
as he went 'over the ground he conceded a point to the
Black Hundred. He would no longer be able to keep
tab on the organization. They had deserted their former
quarters absolutely. The agent of whom they had leased
the building knew nothing except that he would have to
repair the place. The rent had been paid a year in ad-
vance, as it had been these last eight years. He had dealt
through an attorney who knew no more of his clients than
the agent. So it will be seen that Jones had in reality
received a check.
More than all this, it would give his enemies renewed
confidence; and this was a deeper menace than he cared
to face. But he went about his affairs as usual, giving
no hint to any one of the mental turmoil which had pos-
session of him.
It is needless to state Norton did not scoop his rivals on
196


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 197_
the counterfeit story. But he set to work exploring the
cellar of the gutted building, and in one corner he found
a battered die. He turned this over to the secret service
men. There was one man he wanted to find—Vroon.
This man, could he find him, should be made to lead him,
Norton, to the new stronghold. He saw the futility of
trying to trap Braine by shadowing him. He desired
Braine to believe that his escape from the freighter had
been a bit of wild luck and not a preconceived plan.
Braine was out of reach for the present, so he began to
search for the man Vroon. He haunted the water front
saloons for a week without success.
He did not know that it was the policy of the Black
Hundred to lay low for a month after a raid of such a
serious character. So the Hargreave menage had thirty
days of peace; always watched, however. For Braine
never relaxed his vigilance in that part of the game. He
did not care to lose sight of Jones, who he was positive
was ready for flight if the slightest opportunity offered
itself.
Norton went back to the primrose paths of love; and
sometimes he would forget all about such a thing as the
Black Hundred. So the summer days went by, with the
lilacs and the roses embowering the Hargreave home.
But Norton took note of the fact that Florence was no
‘longer the light-hearted schoolgirl he had firstmet. 'Her
trials had made a serious woman of her, and perhaps
this phase was all the more enchanting to him, who had
his serious side also. Her young mind was like an Italian
garden, always opening new vistas for his admiring
gaze. '
He went about his work the same as of old, interview-
ing, playing detective, fattening his pay envelope by spe-


198 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
cials to the Sunday edition and some of the lighter
magazines. Sometimes he had vague dreams of writing
a play, a novel, and making a tremendous fortune like
that chap Manders, who only a few years ago had been
his desk mate. He really began the first chapter of a
novel; but that has nothing to do with this history.
All ready, then. The chess are once more on the board,
and it is the move of the Black Hundred.
The day was rather cloudy. Jones .viewed the sky
wearily. He could hear Florence playing rather a cheer-
less nocturne by Chopin. Fourteen weeks ago this war-
fare had begun, and all he had accomplished, he and
those with him, was the death or incarceration of a few
inconsequent members of the Black Hundred. Always
they struck and always he had to ward off. He had al-
ways been on the defensive; and a defensive fighter may
last a long while, but he seldom wins; and the butler knew
that they must win or go down in bitter defeat. There
was no half-way route to the end; there couldbe no
draw. It all reminded him of thunderbolts;_one man
knew where they were going to strike.
The telephone rang; at the same moment Florence left
the piano. She stopped at the threshold.
“Hello! You? Where have you been? What has
happened?”
“Who is it ?” asked Florence, stepping forward.
Jones held up a warning hand, and Florence paused]
“Yes, yes; I hear perfectly. Oh! You’ve been work-
ing out their new quarters? Good, good! But be very
careful, sir. One never knows what may happen. They
have been quiet for some time now. . . . Ah! You
can’t work the ceiling this time? . . . Window over
the way. Very good, sir. But be careful.”


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 199
The word “sir” caught Florence’s attention. She ran
to Jones and seized him by the arm.
“Who was that ?” she cried, as he turned away from
the telephone.
‘(Why P!)
“You said ‘sir.’ ”
Jones’ eyes widened. “I did?”
“Yes, and it’s the first time I ever heard you use it
over the telephone. Jones, you were talking to my
father!”
“Please, Miss Florence, do not ask me any questions.
I can not answer any. I dare not.”
“But if I should command, upon the pain of dismis-
sal?” coldly.
“Ah, Miss Florence,” and Jones tapped his pocket,
“you forget that you can not dismiss me by word. I am
legally in control here. I am sorry that you have made
me recall this fact to you.”
Florence began to cry softly.
“I am sorry, very sorry,” said the butler, torn between
the desire to comfort her and the law that he had laid
down for himself. “It is very gloomy to-day, and per-
haps we are a little depressed by it. I am sorry.”
“Oh, I realize, Jones, that all this unending mystery
and secrecy have a set purpose at back. Only, it does
just seem as if I should go mad sometimes with waiting
and wondering.”
“And if the truth must be told, it is the same with me.
We have to wait for them to strike. Shall I get you
something to read? I am going down to the drug store
and they have a circulating library.”
“Get me anything you please. But I’d feel better with
a little sunshine.”


200 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
“That’s universal,” replied Jones, going into the hall
for his hat.
Had the telephone rung again at that moment it is
quite probable that the day would have come to a close
‘as the day before had, monotonously. But the ring came
five minutes after Jones had left the house.
“Is this the Hargreave place?”
“Yes,” said Florence. “Who is it?”
“This is Miss Hargreave talking?”
“Yes.”
“This is Doctor Morse. I am at the Queen Hotel.
Mr. Norton has been badly hurt, and he wants you and
Mr. Jones to come at once. We can not tell just how
serious the injury is. He is just conscious. Shall I tell
him you will come immediately P”
“Yes, yes!”
Florence snapped the receiver on the hook. She wanted
to fly, fly. He was hurt. How, when, where?
“Susan! Susan!” she called.
“What is it P” asked Susan, running into the room.
“Jim. is badly hurt. He wants me to come at once.
Oh, Susan! I’ve been dreading something all day long.”
Florence struck the maid’s bell. “My wraps. You will
go with me, Susan.”
“Where, Miss Florence,” asked the maid, alive to her
'qluty.
“Where? What is that to you?” demanded Florence,
who did not know that this maid was a detective.
“Why not wait till Mr. Jones returns?” she suggested
patiently. ‘
“And let the man I love die ?” vehemently.
“At/least you will leave word where you are going,
Miss FlorerEe."


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 201
“The Queen Hotel. And if you say another word I’ll.
discharge you. Come, Susan.”
There happened to be a taxicab conveniently near (as
Vroon took care there should be), and Florence at once
engaged it. She did not see the man hiding in the bushes. _
The two young women stepped into the taxicab and were
driven off. They had been gone less than five minutes
when Jones returned with his purchase, to find the house
empty of its most valuable asset. He was furious, not
only at the maid, who, he realized, was virtually helpless,
but at his own negligence.
In the midst of his violent harangue the bell sounded.
In his bones he knew what was going to be found there.
It was a letter on the back of which was drawn the fatal
black mask. With shaking fingers he tore open the en-
velope and read the contents:
“Florence is now in our power. Only the surrender of
the million will save her. Our agent will call in an hour
for an answer. THE BLACK HUNDRED.”
As a matter of fact, they had wanted Jones almost as
badly as Florence, but her desire for a book—some pop-
ular story of the day—had saved him from the net. The
letter had been written against this possibility.
Jones became cool, now that he knew just what to face.
The Queen Hotel meant nothing. Florence would not be
taken there. He called up Norton. It took all the butler’s
patience, however, as it required seven different calls to
locate the reporter.
Meantime the taxicab containing Florence and Susan
spun madly toward the water front. Here the two were
separated by an effective threat. Florence recognized.


202 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
the man Vroon and knew that to plead for mercy would
be a waste of time. She permitted herself to be led to a
waiting launch. Always when she disobeyed Jones some-
thing like this happened. But this time they had cun-
ningly struck at her heart, and all thought of her per-
sonal safety became as nothing. For the present she
knew that she was in no actual physical danger. She
was merely to be held as a hostage. Would Susan have
mentality enough to tell Jones where the taxicab had
stopped? She doubted. In an emergency Susan had
proved herself a nonentity, a bundle of hysterical thrills.
As a matter of fact, for once Florence’s deductions
were happily wrong. When the chauffeur peremptorily
deposited Susan on the lonely country road, several miles
from home, she ran hot-foot to the nearest telephone and
sent a very concise message home. Susan was becoming
acclimated to this strange, exciting existence.
Norton arrived in due time, and he and Jones were
mapping out a plan when Susan’s message came.
“Good girl l” said Jones. “She’s learning. Can you
handle this alone, Norton? They want me out of the
house again, for I believe they were after me as well as
Florence. Half an hour gone l”
“Trust me l” cried Norton.
And he ran out to his auto. It was a wild ride. Sev-
eral policemen shouted after him, but he went on un-
mindful. They could take his license number a hundred
times for all he cared. So they had got her? They could
wait till their enemy’s vigilance slacked and then would
strike? But Susan! The next time he saw Susan he
was going to take her in his arms and kiss her. It might
be a new sensation to kiss Susan, always so prim and
oflish. Corey Street—that had been her direction. They


», wry-10'
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4‘
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Univ“ w-


THEY WERE MAPPING OUT A PLAN WHEN SUSAN’S MESSAGE CAME
1


lo

. I.
fll‘ Qlo ml
- n.-


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 203
I
had put Florence in a motor boat at the foot of Corey
Street. He was perhaps half an hour behind.
Florence never opened her lips. She stared ahead
proudly. She would show these scoundrels that she was
her father’s daughter. They plied her with questions,
but she pretended not to hear.
“Well, pretty bird, we’ll make you speak when the
time comes. We’ve got you this trip where we want
you. There won’t be any jumping overboard this ses-
sion, believe me. We’ve wasted enough time. We’ve got
you and we’re going to keep you.”
“Let her be,” said Vroon morosely. “We’ll put all the
questions we wish when we’re at our destination.” And
he nodded significantly toward the ships riding at anchor.
Florence felt her heart sink in spite of her abundant
courage. Were they going to take her to sea again? She
had acquired a horror of the sea, so big, so terrible, so-
strong. She had had an experience with its sullen power.
They had gone about four miles down when she looked
back longingly toward shore. Something white seemed
to be spinning over the Water far behind. At first she
could not discern what it was. As she watched it it grew
and grew. It finally emerged from the illusion of a gi-
gantic bird into the actuality of an every-day hydroplane.
Her heart gave a great bound. This flying machine was.
coming directly toward the launch; it did not deviate a
hair’s breadth from the line. Fortunately the men were
looking toward the huge freighter a quarter of a mile
farther on, and from their talk it was evident that the
freighter was to be her prison—bound for where? Nearer
and nearer came the hydroplane. Was it for her?
It was impossible for the men not to take notice of the
barking of the engines at last.


204' THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
“The thing’s headed for us l”
Vroon stared under his palm. It was not credible
that pursuit had taken place so quickly. To test yonder
man-bird he abruptly changed the course of the launch.
The hydroplane veered its course to suit.
’ Florence heard her name called faintly. One of the
men drew his revolver, but Vroon knocked it out of his
hand.
“There’s the police boat, you fool!”
“Jump!” a voice called to Florence.
She flung herself into the water without the slightest
hesitation.
All this came about something after this fashion.
When Norton arrived at the foot of Corey Street a boat-
man informed him that a young woman of his description
had got into a fast motor boat and had gone down the
river.
“Was there any struggle?”
“Struggle? None that I could see. She didn’t make
no fuss about going.” '
“Have you a launch ?”
“Yes, but the other boat has half an hour’s start, and
I’d never catch her in a thousand years. But there’s a
hydroplane a little above here. You might interest the
feller that runs it.”
“Thanks!”
But the aviator would not listen. _
“A life may hang in the balance, man!” expostulated
Norton, longing to pommel the stubborn man.
“What proof have I of that?”
Norton showed his card and badge.
“Oh, I see !” jeered the aviator. “A little newspaper


CHAPTER XVI
HE maid stole into the house, wondering if she had
been seen. She wanted to be loyal to this girl, but
she was tired of the life; she wanted to be her own mis-
tress, and the small fortune offered her would put her on
the way to realize her ambition. What had she not seen
and been of life since she joined the great detective force!
Lady’s maid, cook, ship stewardess, flash woman, actress,
clerk, and a dozen other employments. Her pay, until
she secured some fat reward, was but twelve hundred a
year; and here was five thousand in advance, with the
promise of five thousand more the minute her work was
done. And it was simple work, without any real harm
toward Florence as far as she was concerned. The whole
thing rested upon one difficulty; would Jones permit the
girls to leave the house?
One day Florence found Susan sitting in a chair, her
head in her hands.
“Why, Susan, what’s the matter ?” cried Florence.
“I don’t know what is the matter, dear, but I haven’t
felt well for two or three days. I’m dizzy all the time;
I can’t read or sew or eat or sleep.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” said Florence, reproachfully.
She rang for the detective-maid. “Ella, I don’t know
anything about doctors hereabouts.”
207


208 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
“I know a good one, Miss Florence. Shall I send for
him ?”
“Do; Susan is ill.”
Jones was not prepared for treachery in his own house-
‘hold ; so when he heard that a doctor had been called to
attend Susan he was without the least suspicion that he
had been betrayed. More than this, there had been no'
occasion to summon a doctor in the seven years Mr. Har-
greave had'lived there. So Jones went about his petty
household affairs without more thought upon the matter.
The maid had been recommended to him as one of the
shrewdest young women in the detective business.
The doctor arrived. He was a real doctor; no doubt of
that. He investigated Susan’s condition—~brought about
by a subtle though not dangerous poison—and instantly
recommended the seashore. Susan was not used to being
confined to the house; she was essentially an out-of-doors
little body. The seashore would bring her about in no
time. The doctor suggested Atlantic City because of its
mildness throughout the year and its neamess to New
York.
“I’m afraid she’ll have to go alone,” said Jones gravely.
“I shan’t stir !” declared Susan. “I shan’t leave my girl
even if I am sic .” Susan caught Florence’s hand and
pressed it.
“Would you like to go with her, Florence?” asked
Jones, ’with a shy glance at the strange doctor. The shy
glance was wasted. The doctor evinced no sign that it
mattered one way or the other to him.
“It is nothing very serious now,” he volunteered. “But
it may turn out serious if it is not taken care of at once.”
“What is the trouble ?” inquired Jones, who was grow-
ing fond of Susan.


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 209
“Weak heart. Sunshine and good sea air will strengthen
her up again. No, no!” as Jones drew forth his wallet.
“I’ll send in my bill the first of the month. Sunshine and
sea air; that’s all that’s necessary. And now, good day.”
All very businesslike; not the least cause in the world
for any one to suspect that a new trap was being set by
the snarers. The maid returned to the sewing-room,
while Florence coddled her companion and made much
of her.
Jones was suspicious, but dig in his mind as he would
he could find no earthly reason for this suspicion save
that this attribute was now instinctive, that it was al-
ways near the top. If Susan was ill she must be given
good care; there was no getting around this fact. Later,
he telephoned several prominent physicians. The strange
doctor was recommended as a good ordinary practitioner
and in good standing; and so Jones dismissed his suspi-
cions as having no hook to hang them on.
His hair would have tingled at the roots, however, had
he known that this same physician was one of the two
who had signed the document which had accredited Flor-
ence with insanity and had all but succeeded in making
a supposition a fact. Nor was Jones aware of the fact.
that the telephone wire had been tapped recently. So!
when he finally concluded to permit Florence to accom-
pany Susan to Atlantic City he telephoned to the detective
agency to send up a trusty man, who was shadowed from
the moment he entered the Hargreave home till he started
for the railway station. He became lost in the shuffle and
was not heard from till weeks later, in Havana. The
Black Hundred found a good profit in the shanghaing
business.
Susan began to pick up, as they say, the day after the


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 211
“But we can’t stir the old fool. We can’t get him
out of that house. I’ve tried to get that maid to put a
little something in his coffee, but she stands off at that.
She says that she did as she agreed in regard to Florence,
but her agreement ended there. We have given the jade
[five thousand already and she is clamoring for the bal- ‘
,ance.”
“Have you threatened her?” asked Olga.
Braine smiled a little. “My dear woman, it is fifty-
fifty. While I have a hold on her, it is not quite so good
as she has on me. We are not dealing with an ordinary
servant we could threaten and scare. No, indeed; a
shrewd little woman who desperately wanted money.
And she will be paid; no getting out of it. She will not
move another step, one way or the other, after she re-
ceives the balance. Hargreave will have a pretty steep
bill to pay when the time comes.”
“She has no idea where the million is P”
“If she had, she’s quite capable of lugging it off all by
herself,” said Braine.
The doctor laughed.
“Olga,” went on Braine, “you must look at it as I do;
that it is still in the middle of the game, and we have
neither lost nor won.”
“How do you know that Hargreave may not have at
I his beck and call an organization quite as capable if not
as large as ours?” suggested the physician. ‘
“That is not possible,” Braine declared without hesita-
tion.
“Well, it begins to look that way to me. We’ve never
made a move yet that hasn’t been blocked.”
“Pure luck each time, I tell you; the devil’s own luck
always at the critical moment, when everything seems to


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 213
“Nothing would suit me better.”
“All aboard, then! Good night, Olga, keep your hair
on; I mean your own hair. We’re going to win out, don’t
you worry. In all games the minute you begin to doubt
you begin to lose.” _
That same night Norton sat at his desk, in his shirt
sleeves, pounding away at his typewriter. From time to!
time he paused and teetered his chair and scowled over
his pipe at the starlit night outside. Bang! would go his
chair again, and clickity-click would sing the keys of the
machine. The story he was writing was in the ordinary
routine; the arrival of a great ocean liner with some po-
litical notables who were not adverse to denouncing the
present administration. You will have noticed, no doubt,
that some disgruntled politician is always denouncing the
present administration, it matters not if it be Republican
or Democratic. When you are out of a good job you are
always prone to denounce. The yarn bored Norton be-
cause his thoughts were miles southward.
He completed his story, yanked out the final sheet,
called for a copy boy, rose and sauntered over to the man-
aging editor’s door, before which he paused indecisively.
The “old man” had been after him lately regarding the
Hargreave story, and he doubted if his errand would
prove successful.
However, he boldly opened the door and walked in.
“Humph!” said the “old man,” twisting his cigar into
the corner of his mouth. “Got that story?”
Norton sat down. “Yes, but I have not got it for print
yet. Mr. Blair, when you gave me the Hargreave job
you gave me carte blanche.”
“I did,” grimly. “But, on the other hand, I did not give
you ten years to clear it up in.”


214 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
“Have I ever fallen down on a good story?” quietly.
“H’m, can’t remember,” grudgingly.
“Well, if you’ll have patience I’ll not fall down on this
one. It’s the greatest criminal story I ever handled, but
it’s so big that it’s going to take time.”
“Gimme an outline.”
“I have promised not to,” with a grimness equal to the
“old man’s.” “If a line of this story trickles out it will
mean that every other paper will be moving around, and
in the end will discover enough to spoil my end of it. I’ll
tell you this much: The most colossal band of thieves this
country ever saw is at one end of the stick. And when
I say that counterfeiting and politics and millions are
involved, you’ll understand how big it is. This gang has
city protection. We are running them all into a corner;
but we want that corner so deep that none of them can
wriggle out of it.”
“Umhm. G0 on.”
“I want two months more.”
The “old man” beat a tattoo with his fat pencil. “Sixty
days, then. And if the yarn isn’t on my desk at midnight,
you—u I
“Hunt for another job. All right. I came in to ask
for three days’ leave.”
“You’re your own boss, Jim, for sixty days more.
'Whadda y’ mean counterfeiting?”
“Those new tens and twenties. If I stumble on that
right, why, I can turn it over without conflicting with the
other story.”
“Well, go to it.”
“I’m turning in my regular work, day in and day out,
and while doing it I’ve gone through more hairbreadth
escapes than you ever heard of. They have been after


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 215
me. I’ve dodged falling safes; I’ve been shanghaied, poi-
soned; but I haven’t said a word.”
“Good lord! Do you mean all that P”
“Every word, sir.”
“I’ll make it ninety days, Jim ; and if this story comes
in I’ll see that you get a corking bonus.”
“I’m not looking for bonuses. I’m proud of my work.
To get this story is all I want. That’ll be enough. Thanks
for the extension of time. Good night.”
So Florence received a long night letter in the morning.
And the doctor arrived at about the same time. And
called promptly upon his patient.
“Fine!” he said. “The sea air was just the thing. A
doctor always likes to find his advice turning out well.”
He glanced quizzically at Florence, who was the picture
of glowing health. Suddenly he frowned anxiously.
“You need not look at me,” she laughed. “I never felt
better in all my life.”
“Are you sure P” 1
“Why, what in the world do you mean P”
He did not speak, but stepped forward and took her by
the wrist, holding his watch in his other hand. He shook
~his head. He looked very solemn, indeed.
“What is it P” demanded Susan, with growing terror.
“Go to your own room immediately and remain there
for the present,” he ordered. “I must see Miss Har-
greave alone.”
He opened the door and Susan passed out bewilderedly.
He returned to Florence, who was even more bewildered
than her companion. The doctor began to ask her ques-
tions; how she slept, if she was thirsty, felt pains in her
back. She answered all these questions vaguely. Not
the slightest suspicion entered her head that she was be-


216 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
ing hoodwinked. Why should she entertain any suspi-
cion? This doctor, who seemed kindly and benevolent,
who had prescribed for Susan and benefited her, why
should she doubt him?
“In heaven’s name, tell me what is the matter?” she
,pleaded.
“Stay here for a little while and I’ll be back. Under no
circumstances leave your room till I return.”
He paced out into the hall, to meet the frantic Susan.
“We must see the manager at once,” he replied to her
queries. “And we must be extremely quiet about it.
There must be no excitement. You had better go to your
rOom. You must not go into Miss Hargreave’s. Tell
me, where have you been? Have you been trying to do
any charitable work among the poorer classes?”
“Only once,” admitted Susan, now on the verge of
tears.
“Only once is sufficient. Come; we’ll go and see the
manager together.” -
They arrived at the desk, and the manager was sum-
moned.
“I take it,” began the doctor lowly, “that a contagious
disease, if it became known among your guests, would
create a good deal of disturbance ?”
“Disturbance! Good heavens, man, it would ruin my
business for the whole season !” exclaimed the astounded
manager.
“I am sorry, but this young lady’s companion has been
stricken with smallpox—”
The manager fell back against his desk, his jaw fallen.
Susan turned as white as the marble top.
“The only way to avoid trouble is to have her con-
veyed immediately to some place where she can be


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 217
treated properly. Not a word to any one now ; absolute
secrecy or a panic.”
The manager was glad enough to agree.
“She is not dangerous at present, but it is only a matter
of a few hours when the disease will become virulent.
If you will place a porter before Miss Hargreave’s door
till I make arrangements to take her away, that will sim-
plify matters.”
' Smallpox! Susan wandered aimlessly about, half out
of her mind with terror. There was no help against such
a dreaded disease. Her Florence, her pretty rosy-checked
Florence, disfigured for life. . . . !
“Miss Susan, where is Florence?”
“Oh, Mr. Norton!” she gasped.
“What’s the trouble?” instantly alert.
“Florence has the smallpox l”
“Impossible! Come with me.”
But the porter having had the strictest orders from
the manager, refused to let them into Florence’s room,
“Never mind, Susan. Come along.” Out of earshot of
the porter, he said: “My room is direCtly above Flor-
ence’s. We’ll see what can be done. This smells of the
Black Hundred a mile off. Smallpox! Only yesterday
she wrote me that she never felt better. Have you wired
Jones ?”
“I never thought to !”
“Then I shall. Our old friends are at work again.”
“But it’s the same doctor who sent me down here.”
Norton frowned.
What followed all appeared in the reporter's story, as
written three months later. He and Susan went up to his
room, raised the flooring, cut through the ceiling, and with
the fire-escape rope dropped below. One glance at Flor-


218 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
ence’s tear-stained face was enough for him. Norton’s
subsequent battle with the doctor and his accomplices
made very interesting reading. Their escape from the
hotel, their flight, their encounter with one of the gang in
the road, and Florence’s blunder into the bed of quick-
sand, gave a succession of thrills to the readers of the -
IBlade.
And all this while the million accumulated dust, layer
by layer. Perhaps an occasional hardy roach scrambled
over the packets, no doubt attracted by the peculiar odor
of the ink.


CHAPTER XVII
HE Black Hundred possessed three separate coun-
cil chambers, always in preparation. Hence, when
the one in use was burned down they transferred their
conferences to the second council chamber appointed
identically the same as the first. As inferred, the organ-
ization owned considerable wealth, and they leased the
buildings in which they had their council chambers, leased
them for a number of years, and refurnished them se-
cretly with trap floors, doors and panels and all that ap-
paratus so necessary to men who are sometimes compelled
to make a quick getaway.
When the Atlantic City attempt was turned into a
fiasco by Norton’s timely arrival Braine determined once
more to rid himself of this meddling reporter. He knew
too much, in the first place, and in the second place Braine
wanted to learn whether the reporter bore a charmed life
or was just ordinarily lucky. He would attempt nothing
delicate, requiring finesse. He would simply waylay N or-
ton and make a commonplace end of him. He would dis-
appear, this reporter, that would be all; and when they
found him he might or might not be recognizable.
So Braine called a conference and he and his fellow
rogues went over a number of expedients and finally
agreed that the best thing to do would be to send a man
219


220 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
to the newspaper, ostensibly as a reportbr looking for a
situation. With this excuse he would be able to hang
around the city room for three or four days. The idea
back of this was to waylay Norton on his way to some
assignment which took him to the suburbs.
All this was arranged down to the smallest detail; and
a man whom they were quite certain Norton had not yet
seen was selected to play the part. He had been a re-
porter once, more’s the pity; so there was no doubt of his
being able to handle his end of the game.
“I want Norton, I want him badly,” declared Braine,
“and woe to you if you let booze play in between you
and the object of this move.”
The man selected to act the reporter hung his head.
Whisky had been the origin of his fall from honest liv-
ing, and he was not so calloused as not to feel the sting
of remorse at times.
“More,” went on Braine, “I want Norton brought to
49. It’s a little off the beat, and we can handle Norton
as we please. When we get rid of this newspaper ferret
there’ll be another to eliminate. But he’s a fox, and a
fox must be set to trail him.”
“And who is that P”
“Jones, Jones, Jones!” thundered Braine. “He’s the
live wire. But the reporter first. Jones depends a lot
On him. Take away this prop and Jones will not be so
sure of himself. There’s a man outside all this circle,
and all these weeks of warfare have not served to bring
him into the circle.”
“Hargreave is dead,” said Vroon stolidly.
“As dead as I am,” snarled Braine. “Two men went
away in that balloon; and I’ll wager my head that one
man came back. I am beginning to put a “few things


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 221
together that I have not thought of before. Who knows?
That balloon may have been carried out to sea purposely.
The captain on that tramp steamer may have lied from
beginning to end. I tell you, Hargreave is alive, and
wherever he is he has his hand on all the wires. He has
agents, too, whom we know nothing about. Hang the
million! I want to put my hands on Hargreave just to
prove that I am the better man. He communicates with
Jones, perhaps through the reporter; he has had me fol-
lowed; it was he who changed the boxes, bored the hole
in the ceiling of the other quarters and learned heaven
knows what.”
“If that’s the case,” said Vroon, “why hasn’t he had us
apprehended ?”
Braine laughed heartily. “Haven’t you been able to see
by this time what his game is? Revenge. He does not
want the police to meddle only in the smalleraffairs. He
wants to put terror into the hearts of all of us. Keep this
point in your mind when you act. He’ll never summon
the police unless we make a broad daylight attempt to
get possession of his daughter. And even then he would
make it out a plain case of kidnaping. Elimination, that’s
the word. All right. We’ll play at that game ourselves.
No. 1 shall be Mr. Norton. And if you fail I’ll break
you,” Braine added to the ex-reporter.
“I’ll get him,” said the man sullenly.
Later, when he applied for a situation on the Blade, it
happened that there were two strikes on hand, and two or
three extra men were needed on the city staff. The man
from the Black Hundred was given a temporary job and
went by the name of Gregg.
For three days he worked faithfully, abstaining from
his favorite tipple. He had never worked in New York,


222 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
so his record was unknown. He had told the city editor
that he had worked on a Chicago paper, now defunct.
Hepaid no attention whatsoever to Norton, a sign of
no little acumen. On the other hand Norton never went
forth on an assignment that Gregg did not know exactly
where he was going. But all these stories kept Norton in
town; and it would be altogether too risky to attempt to
handle him anywhere but outside of town. So Gregg had
to abide his time.
It came soon enough.
Norton was idling at his desk when the city editor
called him up to the wicket. .
“General Henderson has just returned to America.
Get his opinion on the latest Balkan rumpus. He’s out
at his suburban home. Here’s the address.”
“How long will you hold open for me?” asked Norton,
meaning how long would the city editor wait for the
story. ‘
“Till one-thirty. You ought to be back by midnight.
It’s only eight now.”
“All right; Henderson’s approachable. I may get a
good story out of him.”
“Maybe,” thought Gregg, who had lost nothing of this
conversation.
It was his opportunity. He immediately left the zone
of the city desk for a telephone booth. But as he passed
the line of desks and busy reporters he did not note the '
keen scrutiny of a smooth-faced, gray-haired man who
stood at the side of Norton’s desk awaiting the reporter’s
return.
“Why, Jones,” cried the surprised Norton. “What are
you doing all this way from home?”


,a---
-5-
n-i <._.
_ ..-


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 225
different men instead of one. He knew that Norton
would understand instantly that he was not the general;
but on the other hand he wOuld not know that he was
addressing Braine. 1’3
So the arch-conspirator waited; and so Norton arrived
and was ushered into the room. A single glance was
enough to satisfy the reporter, always keen-eyed and
observant.
“I wish to see General Henderson,” he said politely.
“General Henderson is doubtless at his own house.”
“Ah!”
“Don’t be alarmed—yet,” said Braine smoothly.
“I am not alarmed,” replied Norton. “I am only cha-
grined. Since General Hen ‘erson is not to be found here
I must be excused.”
“I will excuse you presently.”
“Ah! I begin to see ”
“Indeed!” mor‘1 'l‘
“I have tu. a or walked into a trap.”
“A keen mind like yours must have recognized that
fact the moment you discovered that I was not the gen-
eral.”
“I am indebted to the Black Hundred ?” coolly.
“Precisely. We do not wish you ill, Mr. Norton.”
“To be sure, no !” ironically. “What with falling safes,
poisoned cigarettes, and so forth, I can readily see that
'you have my welfare at heart. What puzzled me was the
suddenness with which these affectionate signs ceased.”
“You’re a man of heart,” said Braine with genuine ad-
miration. “These affectionate signs, as you call them,
ceased because for the time being you ceased to be a
menace. You have become that once more, and here you
are!”


226 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
“And what are you going to do with me now that you
have got me?”
“There will be two courses.” Braine reached into a
drawer and drew out a thick roll of bills. “There are
here something like $5,000.”
“Quite a tidy sum; enough for a chap to get married
on.”
The two eyed each other steadily. And in his heart
Braine sighed. For he saw in this young man’s eyes
incorruptibility.
“It is yours on one condition,’ said Braine, reaching
out his foot stealthily toward the button which would
summon Samson.
“And that is,” interpolated Norton, “that I join the
Black Hundred.”
“Or the great beyond, my lad,” took up Braine, his
voice crisp and cold.
Norton could not repress a shiver. Where had he
heard this voice before? . . . Braine! He stiffened.
“Murder in cold blood?” he managed to say.
“Indefinite imprisonment. Choose.”
“I have chosen.”
“H’m!” Braine rose and went over to the sideboard
for the brandy. “I’m going to offer you a drink to show
you that personally there are no hard feelings. You are
in the way. After you, our friend, Jones. This brandy
is not poisoned, neither are the glasses. Choose either
and I’ll drink first. We are all desperate men, Norton;
and we stop at nothing. Your life hangs by a hair. Do
you know where Hargreave is?”
Norton eyed his liquor thoughtfully.
“Do you know where the money is ?”
Norton smelt of the brandy.
’


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 227
“I am sorry,” said Braine. “I should have liked to win
over a head like yours.”
Norton nonchalantly took out his watch, and that bit
of bravado perhaps saved his life. In the case of his
watch he saw a brutal face behind him. Without a
tremor, Norton took up his glass.
“I am sorry to disappoint you,” he said, “but I shall
neither join you nor go to by-by.”
Quick as a bird shadow above grass, he flung his brandy
over his shoulder into the face of the man behind. Sam-
son yelled with pain. Almost at the same instant Norton
pushed over the table, upsetting Braine with it. Next he
dashed through the curtains, slammed the door, and fled
to the street, very shaky about the knees, if the truth is
to be told.
General Henderson’s views upon the latest Balkan
muddle were missing from the Blade the following mom-
ing. Norton, instead of returning to the general’s and
fulfilling his assignment like a dutiful reporter, hurried
out to Riverside to acquaint Jones with what had hap-
pened. Jones was glad to see him safe and sound.
“That new reporter started the game,” he said. “I
overheard a word or two while he was talking in the
booth. All your telephone booths are ramshackle affairs,
you use them so constantly. I tried to find you, but you
were out of sight. Now, tell me what happened.”
“Sh!” warned Norton as he spied Florence coming
down the stairs.
“I thought you couldn’t come!” she cried. “But ten
o’clock !” p
“I changed my mind,” he replied, laughing.
He caught her arm in his and drew her toward the
library. Jones smiled after them with that enigmatical


230 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
No sooner was Jim in the hallway than he was set
upon and overpowered. They had in this house what was
known as “the punishment room.” Here traitors paid the
reckoning and were never more heard of. Into this room
Jim was unceremoniously dropped when Braine found
that he could get no information from the resolute re-
porter.
The room did not look sinister, but for all that it
possessed the faculty of growing smaller and smaller,
slowly or swiftly, as the man above at the lever willed.
When Jim was apprised of this fact, he ran madly about
in search of some mode of escape, knowing full well in
his heart that he should not find one.
Presently the machinery began to work, and Norton’s
tongue grew dry with terror. They had him this time;
there was not the least doubt of it. And they had led him
there by the nose into the bargain.
Twenty minutes passed, and Jones concluded it was
time for him to act. He went forward to try the door,
but this time it was locked. Jones, however, was not
without resource. The house next door was vacant, and '
he found a way into this, finally reaching. the roof. From
this he jumped to the other roof, found the scuttle open,
and crept down the stairs, flight after flight, till the whir
of a motor arrested him.
Conspirators are often overeager, too. So intent were
the rascals upon the business at hand that they did not
notice the door open slowly. It did not take the butler
more than a moment to realize that his friend and ally
was near certain death. With an oath he sprang into the
room, gave Braine a push which sent him down to join
the victim, and pitched into the other two. It was a battle
royal while it lasted. Jones knocked down one of them,


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 231
yelled to Norton, and kicked the rope he saw down into
' the pit. One end of this rope was attached to a ring in
the wall. And up this rope Norton swarmed after he had
disposed of Braine. The tide of battle then swung about
in favor of the butler, and shortly the fake reporter and
his companion were made to join their chief.
Jones stopped the machinery. He could not bring him-
self to let his enemies die so horribly. Later he knew he
would regret this sentiment.
When the people came, summoned by some outsider
who had heard the racket of the conflict, there was no
one to be found in the pit. Nor was there any visible
sign of an exit.
There was one, however, built against such an hour
and known only to the chiefs of the Black Hundred.
And still the golden-tinted banknotes reposed tran-
quilly in their hiding place!


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 233
“She is the real thing, Olga; a real princess with vast
estates in Poland with which the greedy Slav next door
has been very gentle.”
“I haven’t paid much attention to the social news lately.
What about her P” .
“She is giving a masked ball formally to open her house
on the West Side. And it’s going to cost a pretty penny.”
“Well, you’re not telling me this to make me want to
know the princess,” said! Olga, petulantly.
“No. But I’m going to give you a letter of introduction
to her highness.”
(‘Oh P, ‘
“And you are going to ask her to invite two particular
friends of yours to this wonderful ball of hers.”
“Indeed,” ironically. “That sounds all very easy.”
“Easier than you think, my child.”
“I will not have you call me child.”
“Well, then, Olga.”
“That’s better. Now, how will it be easier than I
think P”
“Simply this; the Princess Parlova is an oath-bound
member, but has not been active for years.”
“Oho !” Olga was all animation now. “Go on!”
“You will go to her with a letter of introduction—no !;
Better than that, you will make a formal call and show
her this ring. You know the ring,” he said, passing the
talisman to the countess. “Show this to her and she will
obey you in everything. She will have no alternative.”
“Very good,” replied Olga. “And then the program is
to insist that she invite Florence and that fool of a re-
porter to this ball. Then what P”
“You can leave that to me.”
“Haven’t all these failures been a warning P”


234 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
“No, my dear. I was born optimistic; but there’s a
jinx somewhere in one of my pockets. Time after time
I’ve had everything just where I wanted it, and then—
poof ! It’s pure bald luck on their side, but sooner or later
the wheel will turn. And any chance that offers I am
bound to accept. Somehow or other we may be able to
trap Florence and Norton. I want both of them. If I
can get them, Jones will be forced to draw in Hargreave.”
“Is there such a man ?”
“You saw him that night at the restaurant.”
“I have often thought that perhaps I just dreamed it.”
She turned again to the piano and began humming idly.
“Stop that and listen to me,” said Braine, not in quite
the best of tempers. “I’m in no mood for whims.”
“Music does not soothe your soul, then?” cynically.
“If I had one it might. You will call on the Princess
Parlova to-morrow afternoon. It depends upon you
what my plans will be. I think you’ll have little trouble
in getting into the presence of her highness, and once
there she will not be able to resist you.”
‘(I’ll g0.I,
And go she did. The footman in green livery hesitated
for a moment, but the title on the visiting card was quite
sufficient. He bowed the countess into the reception room
and went in search of his distinguished mistress.
The Princess Parlova was a handsome woman verging
upon middle age. She was a patrician; Olga’s keen eye
discerned that instantly. She came into the reception
room with that dignified serenity which would have im-
pressed any one as genuine. She held the card in her
fingers and smiled inquiringly toward her guest.
“I confess,” she began, “that I recall neither your face


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 235
nor your name. I am sorry. Where have I had the
honor of meeting you before?”
“You have never met me before, your highness,” an-
swered Olga sweetly.
“You came on a charity errand, then?”
“That depends, your highness. Will you be so good
as to glance at this?” Olga asked, holding out her palm
upon which the talisman lay.
The princess shrank back, paling.
“Where did you get that?” she panted.
“From the head,” was the answer.
“And you have followed me from Russia?” whispered
the princess, her terror growing.
“Oh, no. The Black Hundred is as strongly organized
here as in St. Petersburg. But we always keep track of
old members, especially when they stand so high in the
world as yourself.”
“But I was deceived and betrayed l” exclaimed the prin-
cess. “They urged me to join on the ground that the
organization was to attempt to bring about the freedom
of Poland.”
Olga shrugged. “You were rich, highness. The Black
Hundred needed money l”_
“And you need it now?” eagerly, believing that she
saw a loophole. “How much? Oh, I will give a hun-
dred thousand rubles on your promise to leave me alone.
Tell me!”
“I am sorry, your highness, but I have no authority to
accept such an offer. Indeed, my errand is far from
being expensive. All the Black Hundred desires is four
invitations to this ball which you are soon to give. That
should not cause you any alarm. We shall not interfere


236 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
with your sojourn in America in any way whatsoever,
provided these invitations are issued.” '
“You would rob my guests?” horrified.
“Positively no! Here is a list of four names. Invite
them; that is all you have to do. Not so much as a silver
spoon will be found missing. This is on my word of
honor, and I never break that word, if you please.”
“Give me the list,” said the princess wearily. “Who
gave you that ring?”
“The head.”
“In Russia?”
“No; here in America.” Olga dipped into her hand—
bag and produced a slip of paper. This she handed to the
princess. “Here is the list, highness.”
“Who is Florence Hargreave ?”
“A friend of mine,” evasively.
“Does she belong to the organization?”
‘fNo.,,
“Then you have some ulterior purpose in having me
invite her?”
“I have,” answered Olga sharply; “but that does not
concern your highness in the least.”
The princess bit her lips. “I see your name here also;
'a man named Braine, and another, Norton.” ’
“Say at once that you do not care to execute the
wishes—the commands—of the order,” said Olga coldly.
“I will do as you wish. And I beg you now to excuse
me. But if anything happens to any of my personal
friends—”
“Well?” haughtin from Olga.
“Well, I will put the matter in the hands of the police.”
“But so long as your personal friends are not con—
cerned ?”


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 237_
“I shall then of necessity remain deaf and blind. It is
' one of the penalties I must pay for my folly. I wish
you good day.”
“And also good riddance,” murmured Olga under her
breath, as she arose and started for the hallway.
Thus it was that when Norton went to the office the
next afternoon he found a broad white envelope on his
desk. Indifferently he opened the same and his eyes
bulged. “Princess Parlova requests” and so forth and
so on. Then he shrugged. The chief had probably
asked for the invitation and he would have to write up
the doings, a phase of reportorial work eminently dis-
tasteful to him. He went up to the city desk.
“Can’t you find some one else to do this stuff?” he
growled to the city editor.
The city editor glanced at the card and crested en-
velope. “Good lord, man! Nobody in this office had
anything to do with that. What luck! Our Miss Hayes
tried all manner of schemes, but was rebuffed on all sides.
How the deuce did you chance to get one?”
“Search me,” said the bewildered Norton.
“If I were you I’d sit tight and take it all in,” advised
the editor. “It’s going to be the biggest splurge of its
kind we’ve had in years. We’ve been working every
wire we know to get Miss Hayes inside, but it was no go.
This princess is not on to the game yet. In this country
you get into society or you don’t through the Sundays.”
“Hanged if I know who wished this thing on me.”
“Take it philosophically,” said the editor sarcastically.
“The princess won’t bite you. She may even have seen
your picture—”
“Get out!” grumbled Norton, turning away.
He would go out and see Florence. On the way out


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 239'
Florence laughed, and even Jones permitted a smile
(which was not grim this time) to stir his lips.
A happy person is generally unobservant. Two happy
persons together are totally unobservant of what passes
around them. In plainer terms this lack is called love.
And being frankly in love with each other, neither N or-
ton nor Florence observed that a taxicab followed them
into town. Jones, not being in love, was keenly observ-
ant; but the taxicab took up the trail two blocks away, so
the matter wholly escaped Jones’ eye.
The two went into several costumers’, but eventually
discovered a shop on a side street that had been over-
looked by those invited to the masquerade. They had a
merry time rummaging among the camphory-smelling
boxes. There were dominoes of all colors, and at length
they agreed upon two modest ones that were evenly
matched in color and design. Florence ordered them to
be sent home. Then the two of them sallied up to the
Ritz-Carleton and had tea.
The man from the taxicab entered the costumer’s, dis-
played a detective’s shield and demanded that the pro-
prietor show him the costumes selected by the two young
people who had just left. The man obeyed wonderingly.
“I want a pair exactly like these,” said the detective.
“How much ?”
“Two dollars each, rental; seven apiece if you wish
to buy them.”
“I’ll buy them.”
The detective paid the bill, nodded curtly, and re-
turned to his taxicab.
“Now, I wonder,” mused the costumer, “what the
dickens those innocent-looking young people are up to ?’"
He never found out.


240 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
On the night of the ball Norton dined with Florence
for the first time; and for once in his life he experienced
that petty disturbance of collective thought called em-
barrassment. To talk over war plans with Jones was one
thing, but to have Jones serve soup was altogether an-
other. All through dinner Jones replied to questions
with no more and no less than “Yes, sir,” and “No, sir.”
Norton was beginning to learn that this strange man could
put on a dozen kinds of armor and always retain his in-
dividuality. And to-night there seemed something
vaguely familiar about the impassive face of the butler,
as if he had seen it somewhere in the past, but could not
tell when or where. As he and Florence were leaving
for the automobile which was to take them to the prin-
cess’, the truth came home to him with the shock of a
douche of ice-cold water. Under his breath he mur-
mured: “You’re a wonderful man, Jones; and I take my
hat off to you with the deepest admiration. Hang me l”
“What are you mumbling about?” asked the happy girl.
“Was I mumbling? Perhaps I was going over my cate-
chism. I haven’t been out in society in so long that I’ve
forgotten how to act.” '
“I believe that. We’ve been in here for five minutes
and you haven’t told me that you love me.”
“Good heavens l” And his arms went around her so
tightly that she begged for quarter.
“How strong you are!”
The splendor of the rooms, the dazzling array of jewels,
the kaleidoscopic colors, the perfume of the banked
flowers and the music all combined to put Florence into
a pleasurable kind of trance. And it was only when the
first waltz began that she became herself and surrendered
to the arms of the man she loved.


242 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
odd. The result of her confidence was that upon reach-
ing the upper halls, opposite the dressing rooms, she was
suddenly thrust into a room and made prisoner. When
the light was turned up she recognized with horror the
woman who had helped to kidnap her and take her away
on the George Washington weeks ago. She could noti
have cried out for help if she had tried.
Meantime Jim got up and began to wander about .in
search of Florence.
Braine played a clever game that night. He and the
Russian, still dominoed like Norton and Florence, ordered
the Hargreave auto, by number, entered it and were
driven up to the porte-cochére of the Hargreave house.
The two alighted, the chauffeur sent the car toward the
garage, and Braine and his companion ran lightly down
the path to the street where the cab which had followed
picked them up.
It grew more and more evident to Jim that something
untoward had taken place. He could not find Florence
anywhere, in the alcoves, in the side rooms, the supper
or card room. Later, to his utter amazement, he was
informed that the Hargreave auto had some time since
been called and its owner taken home. Some one had
taken his place.
His first sensation was impotent fury against Jones,
who had permitted them to play with fire. He flung out
of the mansion unceremoniously, commandeered a cab,
and flew out to Riverdale. And when Jones came to the
door he was staggering with sleep.
“What’sthe matter with you?” demanded Jim roughly.
“Where’s Florence?”
“Isn’t she with you?” cried Jones, making an effort to
dispel the drowsiness. “What time is it?” suddenly.


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 243
“Midnight! Where is she P”
“Midnight? I’ve been drugged!”
Without a word Jones staggered off to the kitchens,
Jim at his heels.
There was always hot water, and within five minutes
Jones had drunk two cups of raw strong coffee.
“Drugged!” he murmured. “Some one in the house!
I’ll attend to that later. Now, the chauffeur.”
But the chauffeur swore on his oath that he had left
Jim and Florence on the steps of the porte-cochére.
“Get in!” said Jones to Norton, now fully alive. He
could not get it out of his head that some one in the
house had drugged him.
The events which followed were to both Jones and
Norton something like a series of nightmares. In the new
home of the Princess Parlova a bomb had exploded and
fire followed the explosion. From pleasure to terror is
only a step. The wildest confusion imaginable ensued.
Most of the guests were of the opinion that some an—
archist had attempted to blow up the house of the rich
Pole. Jones and Norton arrived just as the smoke be-
gan to pour out from the windows. A crowd had al-
ready collected.
Then Jim overheard a woman masquerader say: “The
fool made the bomb too strong. She is in the room on
the second floor. The game is up if she suflocates—”
The voice trailed off and the woman became lost in the
crowd. But it was enough for the reporter, who pushed
his way roughly through the excited masqueraders and
entered the house. The rescue was one of the most ex-
citing to be found in the newspaper files of the day.
So Braine in his effort to scare everybody from the
house had overreached himself once more.


CHAPTER XIx
FLORENCE was a fortnight in recovering from the
shock of her experience at the masked ball of the
Princess Parlova, who, by the way, disappeared from
New York shortly after the fire, no doubt because of her
fear of the Black Hundred. The fire did not destroy the
house, but most of the furnishings were so thoroughly
drenched by water that they were practically ruined. Her
coming and going were a nine—days’ wonder, and then
the public found something else to talk about.
Norton was a constant visitor at the Hargreave place.
There was to him a new interest in that mysterious
house, with its hidden panels, its false floors, its secret
tunnels; but he treated Jones upon the same basis as hith—
erto. One thing, however: He felt a sense of security
in regard to Florence such as he had not felt before. So,
between assignments, he ran out to Riverdale and did
what he could to amuse his sweetheart. Later they took
short rides in the runabout, and at length she became as
lively as she had ever been.
But often she would catch Norton brooding.
“What makes you frown like that?”
“Was I frowning?” innocently enough.
“I find you this way a dozen times in an afternoon.
What is the matter? Are they after you again?”
“Heavens, no! I’m only a vague issue. They will
244


246 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
bering that the reporter was with Florence, said: “I
believe she is at the Rose Garden this afternoon.”
“That is in town ?”
“Yes.”
“Thanks.” The man turned abruptly and ran down
the steps.
The maid ran back to Jones.
“Why didn’t you call me?” he demanded impatiently.
“There wasn’t time.”
“Did you tell him where she was ?”
“Yes. But I shouldn’t have told him if Mr. Norton
had not been with Miss Florence.”
Jones ran to the front, dashed out, eyed the back of
the man hastening down the street, smiled, and returned
to his work, or, rather, to the maid. He took her by the
shoulder, whirled her about, and shot a look into her eyes
that quailed her.
“Always call me hereafter, no matter what I’m doing.
That man has inever laid eyes on Florence and has no
idea what she looks like. Why did you drug my coffee
the night of that ball?”
She stepped back.
“And how much did they pay you for letting that doc-
tor send Florence to Atlantic City? I know everything.
Hereafter, walk straight. If you play another trick I’ll
kill you with these two hands. And listen and tell this to
your confederates: I always know every move they
make; that is why no one is missing from this house.
There is a traitor. Let them find him if they can. Will
you walk straight, or will you leave ?”
“I—I will walk straight,” she faltered. “The money
was too big a temptation.”
“Did they give it to you?”


248 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
When the man in search of Florence eventually arrived
and asked the manager of the garden if he knew Miss
Hargreave by sight the manager pointed toward the box.
The man wound his way in and out of the idlers and by
the time he reached the box Jim and Florence had made
their departure. The man bowed, approached, and asked
Ithe countess if she was Miss Hargreave. For a moment
Olga suspected a trap. Then it appealed to her mind that
if there was no trap it might be well to pose as Florence,
if only to learn what the outcome might be.
“Yes. What is wanted P” she asked.
The man took a letter from his pocket and handed it to
Olga, saying: “Give this to your father. He knows how
to read it.”
Before she could reply the man had turned and was
hurrying away.
Olga opened the note, her heart beating furiously. It
was utterly blank. At first she thought it was a hoax.
Then she happened to remember that there was such a.
thing as invisible ink. At last! Hargreave was alive;
this letter settled all doubt in her mind on this question.
Alive! And not only that, but the girl and Jones were
evidently in communication with him. She summoned a
waiter, made a secret sign, and he bowed and approached.
She slipped the letter into his hand and whispered:
“Show that at the cave to-morrow. It is in invisible ink
and meant for Hargreave.”
“He’s alive P”
“Positively.”
“Very well.” The waiter bowed and strolled away
nonchalantly.
Braine was in Boston over night, otherwise the countess
would have taken the mysterious note at once to him.




“GIVE THIS TO YOUR FATHER. HE KNOWS HOW TO READ IT”





250, THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
scattered about, and there were boxes and chairs and a
large chest. Men evidently met here, possibly after some
desperate adventure against society. She found nothing
to reward her hardihood, and as she was in the act of
moving toward the cave’s door she beheld with terror
that it was moving!
She was near the chest at that moment. The cave was
not a deep one. There was no tunnel, only a wall. Reso-
lutely she raised the lid of the chest, stepped inside, and
drew the lid down. She was just in time. The door
opened and three meni’en‘tered, talking volubly. They
felt perfectly secure in talking as loudly as they pleased.
To F lo'rcnce it seemed almost impossible that they did
not hear the thunder of her heart? Strain her ears as she
might, she could gather but' little of what they said, ex-
cept: ‘ .
“If Hargreave had this paper we might all be put on
the defensive. To an outsider it is a blank paper. But
the boss will be able to read it. . . .” The speaker
moved away from the vicinity of the chest and she heard
no more.
, Very deftly Florence raised the lid just enough to peep
out. The man who had been’ talking was putting the note
in his hip pocket. As he turned toward the chest he sat
down on the soap-box immediately in front of the chest.
An inspiration came to the girl, an exceedingly daring
one. She took her liberty in her hands as she executed
the deed. But the dimness of the cave aided her. When
she crouched down again the magic paper was hers. .
It seemed hours to her before the men left the cave.
As she heard the hidden door jar in closing she raised
the lid and stepped out, breathing deeply. The paper she
had purloined was indeed blank, but Jones or Jim would


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 251
know what to do with it. And wouldn’t they be surprised
when she told them what she had accomplished all alone?
Her exultation was of short duration. She heard the
whine of the door on its hinges. The men were returning.
Why?
They were returning because they had discovered a
(woman’s shoeprint outside. It pointed toward the cave,
freshly, and there was none coming away. To re-enter
the chest would be foolhardy. It would be the first place
the men would look. She glanced about desperately. She
saw but one chance, the well. And even while the door
was swinging inward, letting the brilliant sunshine enter,
she summoned up the courage and let herself down into
the well, which proved to be nothing moregnor less than
an underground river!
The men came in with a rush. They upset boxes, looked
into the chest, and the man who was evidently in com-
mand, gazed down the well, shaking his head. Their
search was thorough, but they found no one. And at
length they began to reason that perhaps a woman had
got as far as the door and then turned away, walking
on the turf.
Meantime Florence was borne along by the swift cur-
rent of the river, which gained in swiftness every mo-
ment. From time to time she bumped along the rocky
walls, but she clung to life valiantly. In ten minutes
she was swept to the other side of the hill, into the
rapids; but the blue sky was overhead, she was out in
the familiar world again. On, on she was carried. Even
though she was half dead, she could hear the roar of a
falls somewhere in advance.
Braine thought he really had a clue to the treasure,


252 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
and with his usual promptness he set about to learn if
it was worth anything. He procured a launch and be-
gan to prowl about, using a pole as a feeler. All the
while he was being closely watched by Norton, who had
concluded to hang on to Braine’s trail till he found some-
thing worthy of note. Braine was disguised, but this
time Jim was not to be fooled. But what was he look-'
ing for, wondered the reporter? Braine continued to
pole along, sometimes pausing to look over the gunwale
down into the water. In raising his head after the last
investigation, he discerned something struggling in the
water, about three hundred yards away. The current
leisurely brought the object into full view. It was a
young woman with just power enough to keep herself
afloat. The golden head roused something in him
stronger than curiosity. It might be!
Braine proceeded to move the launch in the direction
of the girl. It was this movement that turned the report-
er’s gaze. He, too, now saw the woman in the water
and wondered how she had come there. When Braine
reached the girl and pulled her into the launch Jim saw
her face plainly.
He flew from his vantage point, found a skiff and
started after Braine. '
“By the Lord Harry!” murmured the rogue. “Well,
they can talk of manna from heaven, but this is what I
call luck. Florence Hargreave, out of nowhere, into my
arms! The god of luck has cast another horseshoe and
it’s mine.”
\ He had a flask in his pocket, and he forced some of the
biting spirits down the girl’s throat. She opened her eyes.
“Well, my beauty ?”


r


FLORENCE STEALS THE PAPERS FROM BRAINE’S POCKET





254 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
that he recognized the reporter. All the devil in him came
to the surface and he fought with the fierceness of a tiger
to kill, kill, kill. In nearly every instance this meddling
reporter had checkmated him. This time one or the other
of them should stay in the water.
Norton recognized that he had a large order before him
'to disable Braine. The recognition between them was
now frank and absolute; there could never again be any
diplomatic sidestepping.
“You’re a dead man, Norton!” panted Braine, as he
reached for the reporter’s throat.
Norfon said nothing, but struck the hand aside. For a
moment they both went under. They came up sputtering,
each trying for a hold. It was a terribly enervating
struggle.
Florence could do nothing. The boat in which she
sat continued to drift away from the fighting men. Once
she tried to reach Braine with the pole he had been using,
but failed. '
From the shore came another boat. For a while she
could not tell whether it contained friends or enemies. It
was terrible to be forced to wait, absolutely helpless.
When she heard the newcomers call encouragingly to
Braine she knew then that the brave fight of her sweet-
heart was going to come to naught. She knew a little
about motors. She threw on the power and headed
[straight toward the rowboat. The men shouted at her,
but she did not alter her course. The rowboat had its
sides crushed in and the men went piling into the water.
“Jim,” she cried.
Norton suddenly flung off Braine and began to swim
madly for the motor boat, which Florence had brought
about. Even then it was only by the barest luck in the


HDOQ< Agog..." OH Z<Umm QZ< HHUZD<A < QMMDUOMM HZHEN





THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 255
world that Norton managed to catch the gunwale. The
rest of it was simple. When they finally reached a haven,
Florence, oddly enough, thought of the horse she had left
tethered nine miles from the stables. She laughed hys-
terically.
“I guess he won’t die. We can send some one out for
him. Now, for heaven’s sake, how did you get into this?
Where were you? What have you been up to P” with
tender bruskness.
“I wanted to do a little detective work of my own,” she
faltered.
“It looks as if you had done it. You infant! Will you
never learn to keep outside this muddle? It’s a man’s
work.”
Florence, thoroughly weakened by her long immersion
in the water, began to weep silently.
“You poor child. I’m a brute!” And he comforted
her.
Later that day, at home, she remembered the blank
paper.
“I stole this from one of the men in the cave. He said
this blank paper would probably save father.”
Jim took it. “H’m! Invisible ink, and it’s had a fine
washing.”
“But maybe it is waterproof.”
“Maybe it is. Anyhow, Miss Sherlock, we’ll show it
to Jones and see what he says.”


CHAPTER XX
1“ HAT I want now,” said Braine, as he paced the
living-room of the apartment of the countess, “is
revenge. I’ve been checkmated enough, Olga; they’re
playing with us.”
“That is nothing new,” she replied, shrugging. “At the
beginning I warned you. I never liked this affair after
the first two or three failures. But you would have your
way. You wanted revenge at that early date; but I can
not see that you’ve gone forward. Has it ever occurred
to you that the organization may be getting tired, too?
They depend solely upon your invention, and each time
your invention has resulted in touching nothing but zero.”
“Thanks!”
_ “Oh, I’m not chiding you. I’ve failed, too.”
“Are you turning against me ?” he demanded bitterly.
“Do my actions point that way?” she coimtered. “No.
.But the more I view what has passed, the more disheart-
ened I grow. It has been a series of blind alleys, and all
we have succeeded in doing is knocking our heads. I can
see now that all our failures are due to one mistake.”
“And what the devil is that?” he asked irritably.
“We were in too much of a hurry at the beginning.
Hargreave prepared himself for quick action on your
part.”
“And if I had not acted quickly he would have started
256





BRAINE REACHED THE GIRL AND PULLED HER INTO THE BOAT





258 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
standing that you were to visit the cave in the morning,
I had one man at the garden take the note. And you
never got it !’1 -
“Some one shall certainly pay for this carelessness.
I’ll call up Vroon and Jackson at once. Wait just a
moment.”
He went to the telephone. A low muttering conversa-
tion took place. Olga could hear little or none of it.
When Braine put the receiver back on the hook his face
was not pleasant to see.
“That girl!”
“What now P”
“It seems she had been out horseback riding that morn-
ing. She had seen one of the boys cross the field and
suddenly disappear; and she was curious to learn what
'had become of him. With her usual luck she stumbled
-on the method of opening the door of the cave and went -
in. She must have been nosing about. She didn’t have
'much time, though, as the boys came up to await me.
Evidently she crawled into that old chest and in some
inexplicable manner purloined the letter from Jackson’s
pocket. They left to reconnoiter; and it was then that
Jackson discovered his loss. When Florence heard them
returning she jumped into the well. And lived through
that tunnel! The devil is in it!”
“Or out of it, since we consider him our friend.”
“And I had her in my hands, note and all!”
I “But with all that water there will not be any writing
left on the letter.” '
“Invisible ink is generally indelibleand impervious to
the action of water; at least the kind I use is. I’d give a
"thousand for a sight of that letter.”
“And it might be worth a million,” Olga suggested.


‘1’.
l."


11 .- .ii


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 259
“Not the least doubt of it in my mind. Olga, old girl,
it does look as if my star was growing dim. We’ll never
get our hands on that million. I feel it in my bones. So
let’s settle down to a campaign of revenge, without any
furbelows. I want to twist Hargreave’s heart before the
game winds up.”
“You wish really to injure her?”
“I do not wish to injure her. Far from it,” he replied,
smiling evilly.
“You want her . . . dead?” whispered Olga, paling.
“Exactly. I want her dead. And so if all my efforts
here come to nothing, so shall Hargreave’s. His millions
will become waste paper to him. That’s revenge. The
Persian peach method.”
“Poison? You shall not! You shall not kill her!”
vehemently.
“Tender-hearted ?”
“N o. If I must in the end go to prison, so be it; but
I refuse to die in. the chair.”
“Very well, then. We shan’t kill her, but we’ll make
her wish she was dead. I was only trying to see how far
you would go. The basket of peaches is in the hallway.
Every peach is poisoned. No man in the country knows
more about subtle poisons than I do. Have I not written
books on that subject?” ironically.
“And they will trace it back to you in a straight line,”
she warned. “I will not have it!”
“I can go elsewhere,” he replied coldly.
“You would leave me?”
“The moment you cross my will,” emphatically.
It became her turn to pace. Torn between her love of
the man and the danger which stared her in the face, she
was for the time being distracted. All the time he watched


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 261
“Oh, what lovely fruitl” cried Susan, pausing. “I’m
going to steal one,” she laughed. She selected a peach
and began eating it on the way up to her room.
The maid passed on into the library.
“What’s this P” inquired Florence, as the maid held out
the basket. She selected a peach and was about to set
her white teeth into it when Jim interposed.
“Wait a moment, dear.” Florence lowered the peach.
Jim turned to the maid. “Who sent it P”
“I don’t know, sir. A messenger brought it, saying it
was for Miss Hargreave.”
“Let me see if there is a card.” But Jim searched
in vain for the card of the donor. All at once his suspi-
cions arose. “Don’t touch them. Better let the maid
throw them out. Fruit from unknown persons might not
be the healthiest thing in the world.”
“What do you think P”
“That in all probability they are poisoned. But there’s
no need trying to prove my theory right or wrong. Ask
Jones. He’ll tell you to throw them away.”
“Horrible!” Florence shuddered. “But they do not
want to poison me. I’m too valuable. They want me
alive.”
“Who can say P” returned Jim gloomily. “They may
have learned that they can not beat us, no matter what
card they turn up. I may be wrong, but take my advice I
and throw them away. . . . Good lord, what’s that P”
startled.
“Some one cried 1”
“Oh, Miss Florence l” exclaimed the maid, terror-
stricken as she recalled Susan’s act. “Miss Susan took a
peach from the basket and was eating it on the way to her
room!”


262 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
“Good heavens!” gasped Jim. “I was right. The fruit
was poisoned.” '
Jim had heard enough to send for a specialist he knew.
The specialist arrived about twenty minutes after Susan’s
first cry. To his keen eye it looked like a certain poison
which had for its basis the venom of the cobra.
“Will she live?” -
“Oh, yes. But she’ll be a wreck for some months. Send
her to the hospital where I can visit her frequently. And
I’ll take that peach along for analysis. No police affair?”
“N 0. We dare not call them in,” said Jim.
“That’s your affair. I’ll send down the ambulance.
Keep her quiet. She’ll have a species of paralysis; but
that’ll work off under treatment. A strange business.”
“So it is,” agreed Jim grimly.
Florence knelt beside her friend’s bed and cried softly.
“You called me just in time. An hour later, nothing
would have saved her. She would have been paralyzed
for life.” '
Jim accompanied the doctor to the door and went in
search of Jones. He found the taciturn butler eying the
fruit basket, his face gray and drawn, though his eyes
blazed with fury.
“Poison!”
“A pretty bad poison, too,” said Jim. “We can’t do
anything. We’ve just got to sit still. But in the end we’ll
get them. That she devil. . . .”
“No, my friend; that he devil. The woman is mad
over him and would commit any crime at his bidding.
But this is his work. We want him. He wasn’t without
courage to send this fruit, knowing that I would instantly
suspect the sender. Yet, I have no definite proof. I
could not hold him in court in law. He will have bought


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 263
the fruit piece by piece, the basket in a basket shop. He
will have injected the poison himself when alone. Poor
Susan! That messenger was without doubt some one
over whom he holds the threat of the death chair. That’s
the way he works.”
Jim tramped the room while Jones carried the fruit
to the kitchen. The butler returned after a while.
“What about that blank sheet of paper ?”
“It has to be dipped into a solution; after that you can
read it by heating. I have already dipped it into the solu-
tion. The moment the heat leaves the sheet the writing
disappears again. The ink is waterproof. I’ll show you.”
Jones got a candle from the mantel, lit it, and held the
sheet of paper very close to the flame. Gradually, almost
imperceptibly, letters began to form on the blank sheet.
At length the message was complete.
“Dear Hargreave—The Russian minister of police is at
the Blank Hotel under the name of Henri Servan. He
is investigating the work of the Black Hundred in this
country and can free you from their vengeance if you
supply the evidence needed.”
“Now, what evidence can he want?” asked Jim.
“Such as will prove Braine an undesirable citizen.”
“And then?”
“Quietly pack him off to Russia, where he is badly
wanted.”
“Who sent this message?”
“One of our mysterious friends. We have a few, as
you already know. But I’ll go and make this man Servan
a visit. I have seen the real minister, and if this man is
the same one, something of importance may turn up. I
shall want you somewhere about. Here, I’ll let you have


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 265
That his poisoned fruit had stricken down an outsider
troubled him none at all. But that mysterious message
he meant to have; it might be a life and death affair, it
might be a clue to the treasure, or the whereabouts of
Hargreave.
Thus, while only one, man followed Jones, several keptj
a far eye on Jim. '
Jones scribbled his name on a blank card and had it_
taken to the Russian’s room. The page eyed that card
curiously. It was different from anything he had ever
seen before. In one corner were written three or four
words which resembled a cross between Hebrew and
Greek.
“Humph !” muttered the boy. “Whadda y’ know about
that? Chicken scratches; but I guess the bell rings Roo-
sian. On your way, Hortense,” he cried to the hall maid,
who wanted a look at the card. “Up t’ th’ room, sir.
He’ll see yuh !” The boy kept the silver salver extended
expectantly, but Jones went past without apparently notic-
ing the hint.
The Russian was standing by a window when Jones
knocked and was hidden to enter.
“You are not Hargreave.”
“Neither are you the Russian minister of police,” ur-l
banely.
“Who are you?”
“I am Hargreave’s confidential man, sir.”
The two men eyed each other cautiously.
“You speak Russian?”
“No. I am able to scribble a few words; that is all.”
The Russian lit a cigarette and smoked leisurely. He
was in no hurry.
“No, I am not the minister; but I am his accredited


266 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
agent. I am empowered to bring back to Russia a man
who is known here by the name of Braine, another by the
name of Vroon, and a woman who calls herself a countess
and unfortunately is one. All I desire is some damaging
proof against them that they are outlaws in this country.
The rest will be simple.”
“They have all three' taken out naturalization papers.”
The Russian waved his hand airily. “Once they are in
Russia those documents will never come to light. This
man Braine, it has been learned, has long been in the pay
of Prussia, and has given the general staff of that country
many plans of our frontier fortifications. I do not 'know
what any one of the three looks like. That is why I
sought Hargreave.”
“I will gladly point them out to you,” said Jones, rub-
bing his hands together, a sign that he was greatly pleased.
“That will be very good of you, I’m sure,” in a rum-
bling but perfectly intelligible English.
“And suddenly they all three will disappear.”
“Suddenly; and you may believe me that from that
time on they’ll be heard of never more.”
“All this sounds extremely agreeable to me. Mr. Har-
greave will be happy to hear that his long enforced hiding
will soon come to an end.”
“All you have to do, sir, is to point them out to me.”
“It may take a week or ten days.”
“My government has waited for ten years to gather in
this delectable trio. A month, if you like.”
“The sooner the better. I shall call this evening after
dinner. We shall begin with Mr. Braine; and generally
where he is is the woman. Vroon will be the most difli-
cult.”



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THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 267
“After dinner, then, since you know some of his haunts.
There is a reward.”
Jones laughed shortly. “Keep it yourself, sir. Mr.
Hargreave would willingly double whatever this reward
is to eliminate these despicable creatures from his af-
fairs.”
“Thanks.”
While this conversation was taking place Norton idled
about; and feeling the cravings for a cigarette, prepared
to roll one, only to find that he hadn’t the “makings.”
So fate urged him to step into the nearest tobacconist’s.
He asked for his favorite brand and passed over the
silver. ’
Braine and his companions saw Norton enter the shop.
It agreed with their plans perfectly. The tobacconist
happened to be affiliated with the- order. So they hurried
into the shop. Jim instantly realized that he was in a
trap.
“How can I get out of here?” he whispered to the to-
bacconist.
The latter smiled. “I have to obey these gentlemen.
I don’t know what they want you for; but if I made a
move to help you I should find my own throat cut with-
out saving ydurs.”
“The devil!”
Jim made a dash for the rear door, to find it locked.
Even as he fumbled with the key Braine and his com-
panions flung themselves upon the reporter and overpow-
ered him.
“Ah, my friend Braine!” he said.
“My friend Norton!” jeered the victor.
“And what do you want; some peaches?”


268 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
“A paper, my friend, a little secret of paper with in-
visible writing on it. We promise to give you something
in exchange for it.”
“What?” asked Jim with as much nonchalance as he
could assume. ‘
“Life.”
“Search,” said Jim. “You won’t object to my smok-
ing ?” He began to roll a cigarette while they passed over
him. He struck a match; the pleasant aroma of tobacco
floated about his head.
“He’s got it on him somewhere. I saw him take it.
He’s got his nerve with him.”
The cigarette glowed. Jim smoked hurriedly.
Through every pocket they went. The contents of his
wallet lay scattered at his feet; his watch dangled from
the chain. The cigarette grew shorter and shorter. Sud-
denly one of the men stretched out a hand and whisked
the cigarette from Jim’s lips. He threw it to the floor
and stamped out the coal.
“I thought so!” he exclaimed, holding out the scrap of
burnt paper toward Braine.
The words “Dear Hargreave” were all that remained
of the message. With a snarl of rage Braine whipped
out his revolver. ~
“I will give you one minute to tell me what that paper
contained.”
“And after that minute is up?”
“A bullet in your stomach.”
Quick as a flash Jim’s hand shot out, caught the loosely
held revolver, gave it a wrench, and brought it down
savagely upon Braine’s head. Then he reversed it and
backed toward the front entrance.
“Au revoir, till we meet again, gentlemen!”


CHAPTER XXI
IM said nothing at first about his adventure to Jones,
J whom he met half an hour later.
“Was it necessary to keep that invisible letter P” he
_ asked.
“N 0,” said Jones.
“Would it have given our affairs a serious turn if it
had fallen into alien hands P”
“Decidedly,” answered Jones. “It would mean flight
for the Black Hundred or a long time under cover, if our
friend Braine learned that Russia was now taking an
active interest in the doings of the Black Hundred. And
eventually all our work would have to be done over
again.”
(‘Ah !”
“You look a bit mussed up. Anything happened P” asked
the keen-eyed butler.
“Nothing much. I made a cigarette out of the letter
and smoked it.”
Jones chuckled. “I see that you have had an adventure
of some sort; but it can wait.”
“It can.”
“Because I want you to pack off to Washington.”
“Washington P” I
“Yes. I want you to interview those officials who are
most familiar with the extradition laws.”
269


272 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
The man remained dumb. He hung between the devil
and the deep sea. If he told the truth the organization
would soon learn the truth; if he kept still he would be
lodged in jail, perhaps indefinitely, for he hadn’t a savory
police record. Presently his nerve gave way in face of
the steady eye and hand, and he confessed the why and
Wherefore he had sought the keyhole of Servan’s room.
“We are after this butler. Wherever he goes we fol—
low.”
“Well, you’ve wasted your time, my man. All I am
here for is to take over some property Mr. Hargreave
left in France for sale. I knownothing about your pri-
vate feuds. Now, get out. But keep out of my way; I
am not a peaceful man.”
The spy tumbled out as he had tumbled in, by an act
of gravity; and Servan was alone. He spent two days in
comparative idleness. Then things began to wake up.
For a long time the leather box across which was in-
scribed “Stanley Hargreave” lay in peace undisturbed.
A busy spider had woven a trap across the handle to the
quaint lock. The box was still badly stained from its
immersion in the salt water. At a certain time it was
quietly withdrawn from its hiding place. It was stealthily
opened. A hand reached in and when it withdrew a
packet of papers was also withdrawn. The box was again
locked and lowered; and presently the spider returned to
find that his cunning trap had been totally destroyed.
With the infinite patience of his kind he began the weav-
ing of another trap. Perhaps this would be more success-
ful than its predecessor.
Later Henri Servan received a telephone call. He was
informed that his purpose in America would be realized


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 273
by his presence at such and such a box that night at the
opera. Further information could not be given over the
telephone. Servan seemed well satisfied. He dressed
carefully that evening, called up the office clerk and in-
quired if his box tickets for the opera had arrived. He
was informed that they had. Instantly the spy, who had
dared to linger about the hotel, overhearing this conversa-
tion, determined to notify Braine at once. And at. the
same time, Norton, in disguise, determined not to lose
sight of this man whom he had set himself to watch.
The spy left by one entrance and Jim by another. Jim
had learned what he desired; that the Russian agent
would be followed to the opera and that it was going to
be difficult to hand the documents to him. The spy en-
tered a drug store and telephoned. Jim waited outside.
When the man came out he strolled up the street and
entered the nearest saloon. Jim’s work was done.
It was Braine’s lieutenant, however, who took the news
to Braine. '
“We have succeeded.”
“Good!” said Braine.
“He will go to the opera. He will have a box. Doubt-
less they have arranged to deliver the papers there.”
“And the next thing is to get the number of his box.”
This Braine had no difficulty in doing. “So that’s all
fixed. He calls himself Servan and registers from Paris.
I’ll show the fool that he has no moujik to deal with this
time.”
“And what are these documents?” asked Olga.
“Ah, that’s what we are so anxious to find out. Some
papers are going to be exchanged between this Russian
spy and Jones or his agents. That these papers concern
us vitally I am certain. That is why I am going to get


274 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
them if there has to be a murder at the opera to-night.
Norton has been to Washington. He was seen coming
out of the Russian embassy, from the secretaries of state
and war and a dozen other offices. 'I’ve got to find out
just what all this means.”
“It means that the time has come for us to fly,” said
Olga. “We have failed. I have warned you. We have
still'plenty of money left. It is time we folded our tents
and stole away quietly. I tell you I feel it in my bones
that there is a pit before us somewhere! and if you force
issues we shall all fall into it.”
“The white feather, my dear.”
“There is altogether some difference between the white
feather and common-sense caution.”
“I shall never give up. You are free to pack up and go
if you wish. As for me, I’m going to fight this out to
the bitter end.”
“And take my word for it, the end will be bitter.”
“Well?” '
“Oh, I shall stay. You know that my future is bound
up in yours. In the old days my advice generally ap-
pealed to you as sound; and when you followed it you
were successful. From the first I advised you not to pur-
sue Hargreave. See what has happened!”
“Enough of this chatter. I’ve got to die some time; it
will be with my face toward this man I hate with all my
soul. You trust to me; I’ll pull out of this all right. You
just fix yourself up stunningly for the opera to-night
and leave the rest to me.”
Olga shrugged. She was something of a fatalist. This
man of hers had suddenly gone mad; and one did not rea-
son with mad people.
“What shall I wear P” she asked calmly. '


- _ __ ____ ___ .
“JUST A MOMENT, GENTLEMEN”





THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 275
“Emeralds; they’re your good luck stones. You will
go to the box before I do. I’ve got to spend some time at
the curb to be sure that this Servan chap arrives. And
it is quite possible that our friend Jones will come later.
If not Jones, then Norton. I was a fool not to shoot him
when I had the chance. We could have covered it up
without the least difficulty. But I needed the information
about that paper. With Norton going to Washington
and Jones conferring with this Servan, I’ve got to strike
quick. It concerns us, that I’m certain. Perk up; we’ve
lots of cards in our sleeves yet. Be at the opera at eight-
thirty. Pay no attention to any one; wait for me. Re—
member, I shan’t write or send any phone messages. Be
wary of any trap like that to get you outside. Now, I’m
off.”
Jones approached Florence immediately after dinner.
“I have important business in the city to-night. Under
no circumstances leave the house. I shall probably be
followed. And our enemies will have need of you far
more to-night than at any previous time. I shall not send
you phone or written message. You have your revolver.
Shoot any strange man who enters. We’ll make inquiries
after.”
“We are near the end?” whispered Florence.
“Very near the end.”
“And I shall see my father?”
Jones bent his head. “If we succeed.”
“There is danger?” thinking of her lover.
“There is always danger when I leave this house. So
be good,” the butler added with a smile.
“And Jim?”
“He has proved that he can take care of himself.”
‘ “Tell him to be very careful.”


276 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
“I’ll do so, but it will not be necessary ;” and with this
Jones set forth upon what he considered the culminating
adventure.
The usual brilliant crowd began to pour into the opera.
Braine took his stand by the entrance. He waited a long
time, but his patience was rewarded. A limousine drove
up and out of the door came his man, who looked about
with casual interest. He dismissed the limousine, which
wheeled slowly around the corner where it could be con-
veniently parked. Then Servan entered the opera.
Braine hurried around to the limousine. The lights,
save those demanded by traffic regulations, were out. The
chauffeur was huddled in his seat.
“My man,” said Braine, “would you like to make some
money ?” ,
“How much?” listlessly. The voice was muffled.
“Twenty.”
“Good night, sir.”
“Fifty.”
“Good night and good morning!”
“A hundred !”
“Now you’ve got me interested. What kind of a joy
ride do you want?” '
“No joy ride. Listen.”
Briefly the conspirator outlined his needs, and finally
‘ the chauffeur nodded. Five twenties were pressed into
his hand and he curled up in his seat again.
Servan entered his box. In the box next to his sat a
handsomely gowned young woman. He threw her an idle
glance, which was repaid in kind. Later, Braine came in
and sat down beside Olga.
“Everything looks like plain sailing,” he whispered.
Olga shrugged slightly.


278 THE MILLION DOLLAR -MYSTERY
spoils of war. “And I shouldn’t make any attempt to
slip out by the side door.”
“Thanks, my friend,” said Servan, shaking himself
free from his captors.
“Don’t mention it,” said Norton amiably. “We
thought something like this would happen. Keep per-
fectly quiet, you chaps. Drive on, chauffeur; drive on!”
“Yes, my lord! To what particular police station shall
I head this omnibus?”
“The nearest, Jones; the very nearest you can think
of! Some day, when I’m rich, I’ll hire you for my
chauffeur. But for the present I shall expect at least a
box of Partagas out of that hundred.”
Jones chuckled. “I’ll buy you a box out of my own
pocket. That hundred goes to charity.”
“Here we are! Out with you,” said Jim to his pris—
oners. He shouldered them into the police station, to
the captain’s desk.
“What’s this?” demanded the captain.
“Holdup men,” said Jim. “Entered this man’s car and
tried to rob him.”
“Uh-huh! An’ who’re you?”
Jim. showed his badge and card.
“Oho! Hey, there; I mean you!” said the captain,
leveling a finger at Otto. “Lift up that hat; lift it up.
Sure, it’s Fountain Pen Otto! Well, well; an’ we’ve
been lookin’ for you for ten months on the last forgery
case. Mr. Norton, my thanks. Take ’em below, ser-
geant. You’ll be here to make the complaint in th’ morn-
in’, sir,” he added to Servan.
“If it is necessary.”
“It may be against Otto’s pal. I don’t know him.”
“Very well.”




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THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 279
Andy Jones and Norton and Servan trooped out of the
station.
At last Jones and the reporter entered a cheap restau-
rant and ordered coffee and toast.
“You’re a wonderful man, Jones, even if you are an
Englishman,” said Jim as he called for the check.
“English? What makes you think I am English?”
asked Jones with a curious glitter in his eyes.
“I’ll tell you on the night we put the rollers under
Braine and company.”
Jones stared long and intently at his young partner.
What did he really know?


CHAPTER XXII
HE federal government agreed to say nothing, to
put no obstacles in the way of the Russian agent,
provided he could abduct his trio without seriously clash-
ing with the New York police authorities. It was a rec-
ognized fact that the local police force wanted the news-
paper glory which would attend the crushing of the
Black Hundred. It would be an exploit. But their
glory was nil; nor did Servan take his trio back with
him to Russia.
Many strange things happened that night, the night of
the final adventure.
Florence sat in her room reading. The book was Oli-
ver Twist, not the pleasantest sort of book to read un-
der the existing circumstances. Several times—she had
reached the place where Fagin overheard Nancy’s con-
fession—she fancied she heard doors closing softly, but
credited it to her imagination. Poor Nancy, who wanted
to be good but did not find time to be! Florence pos-
sessed a habit familiar to most of us; the need of apples
or candy when we are reading. So she rang the bell for
her maid, intending to ask her to bring up some apples.
She turned to her reading, presently to break off and
:strike the bell again. Where was that maid? She waited
perhaps five minutes, then laid down the book and began
to investigate.
280


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 281
There was not a servant to be found in the entire
house! What in the world could that mean? Used as
she was to heartrending suspense, she was none the less
terrified. Something had taken the servants from the
house. From whence was the danger to come this time?
Where was Jones? Why did he not return as he had
promised? It was long past the hour when he said he ’
would be back.
She went into the library and picked up the telephone.
She was told that Mr. Norton was out on an assignment,
but that he would be notified the moment he returned.
She opened the drawer in the desk. She touched the
automatic, but did not take it up. She left the drawer
open, however.
Earlier, at the newspaper office that night, Jim went
into the managing editor’s office and laid a bulky manu-
script On that gentleman’s desk.
“Is this it?”
“It is,” said Jim.
“You have captured them?”
“No; but there is a net about them from which not
one shall escape. There’s the story of my adventures,
of the adventures 'of Miss Hargreave and the butler,
Jones. You’ll find it exciting enough. You might just
as well send it up to the composing room. At midnight
I’ll telephone the introduction. It’s a scoop. Don’t '
worry about that.”
The editor riffled the pages.
“A hundred and twelve pages, three hundred words to
the page; man, it’s a novel !”
“It’ll read like one.”
“Sit down for a moment and let me skim through the
first story.”


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 283
thing of a light and joyous character. After half an
hour’s wandering about the lonely house she returned
to the library, feeling that she would be safer where both
telephone and revolver were.
And while she sat waiting for she knew not what, her
swiftly beating heart sending the blood into her throat
so that it almost suffocated her, a man turned into the
street and walked noiselesst toward the Hargreave place.
He passed a man leaning against a lamp-post, but he
never turned to look at him.
This man, however, threw away his cigar and hot-
footed it to the nearest pay station. He knew in his
soul that he had just seen the man for whom they had
been hunting all these weary but strenuous weeks—Stan-
ley Hargreave in the flesh! Half an hour after his tele-
phone message the chief of the Black Hundred and many
lesser lights were on their way to the house of mystery.
Had they but known!
Now, the man who had created this tremendous agita-
tion went serenely on. He proceeded directly and fear-
lessly to the front door, produced a latchkey and entered.
He passed through the hall and reception room to the
library and paused on the threshold dramatically. Flor-
- ence stepped back with a sharp cry of alarm. She had
heard the hall door open and close and had taken it for
granted that Jones had entered.
There was a tableau of short duration.
“Don’t you know me?” asked the stranger in a singu—
larly pleasant voice.
Florence had been imposed upon too many times. She
shook her head defiantly, though her knees shook so that
she was certain that the least touch would send her over. -
“I'am your father, child!”


284 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
Florence slipped unsteadily behind the desk and seized
the revolver which lay in the drawer. The man by the
curtains smiled sadly. It was a smile that caused Flor-
ence to waver a bit. Still she extended her arm.
“You do not believe me?” said the man, advancing
slowly.
“N 0. I have been deceived too many times, sir. Stay
where you are. You will wait here till my butler returns.
Oh, if I were only sure!” she burst out suddenly and
passionately. “What proof have you that you are what
you say ?”
He came toward her, holding out his hands. “This,
that you can not shoot me. Ah, the damnable wretches!
What have they done to you, my child, to make you
suspicious of every one? How I have watched over you
in the street! I will tell you what only Jones and the
reporter know, that the aviator died, that I alone was
rescued, that I gave Norton the five thousand; that I
watched the windows of the Russian woman, and over-
heard nearly every plot that was hatched in the council
chamber of the Black Hundred; that I was shot in the
arm while crossing the lawn one night. And now we
have the scoundrels just where we want them. They
will be in this house for me within half an hour, and '
not one of them will leave it in freedom. I am your
father, Florence. I am the lonely father who has spent
the best years of his life away from you in order to
secure your safety. Can’t you feel the truth of all this?”
“No, no! Please do not approach any nearer; stay
where you are!”
At that moment the telephone rang. With the revolver
still leveled she picked up the receiver.
“Hello, hello! Who is it? . . . Oh, Jim, Jim, come





THEY WERE TUMBLING THROUGH THE LIBRARY AND READING-ROOM


286 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
“Ah, so we meet again, Hargreave l” said Braine.
Hargreave shrugged. What he wanted was time.
“A million! We have you. Where is it, or I’ll twist
your heart before your eyes.”
“Father, forgive me !”
“I understand, my child.”
“Where is it?” Braine seized Florence by the wrist
and swung her toward him.
“Don’t tell him, father; don’t mind me,” said the girl
bravely.
Braine, smiling his old evil smile, drew the girl close.
It was the last time he ever touched her.
“Look!” screamed Olga.
Every one turned, to see Jones’ face peering between
the curtains. There was an ironic smile on the butler’s
lips. The face vanished.
“After him!” cried Braine, releasing Florence.
“After him !” mimicked a voice from the hall.
The curtains were thrown back suddenly. Jones ap--
peared, and Jim and the Russian agent and a dozen po-
licemen. Tableau!
Braine sprang at Florence savagely, and Norton tore
him back, and they went tumbling through the library and
the living room. It was a death struggle; make no mis-
take about that. The others dared not shoot for fear
of hitting Norton. But the Countess Olga, in the hall-
way, dared the risk. As Norton’s back came into view
she fired. Almost at the same instant Norton had swung
Braine about. A shudder ran through the arch-scoun-
drel, his hands slipped off Norton’s shoulders, a sur-
prised expression swept over his face, then he sank in-
ertly to the floor, dead.
Olga ran up-stairs wildly, followed by a determined





BRAINE SANK INERTLY TO THE FLOOR, DEAD


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288 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
Norton took Florence by the hand and drew her away.
“Where are you taking me ?” she asked.
“I’m going to take this pretty hand of yours and put
it flat upon one million dollars. And if you don’t believe
it, follow me.”
She followed.


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‘CHAPTER XXIII
T will be remembered that the Countess Olga had
darted up the stairs during the struggle between Braine
and his captors. The police who had followed her were
recalled to pursue one of the lesser rogues. This left
Olga free for a moment. She stole out and down as far
as the landing. ‘
Servan, the Russian agent, stood waiting for the taxi-
cab to roll up to the porte-cochére for himself, Braine
and Vroon. Norton had taken Florence by the hand,
ostensibly to conduct her to the million. Suddenly Braine
made a dash for liberty. Norton rushed after him. Just
as he reached Braine, a shot rang out. Braine whirled
upon his heels and crashed to the floor.
Olga, intent upon giving injury to Norton, who she
regarded equally with Hargreave 'as having brought '
about the downfall, had hit her lover instead. With a
cry of despair she dashed back into Florence’s room,
quite ready to end it all. She raised the revolver to her
temple, shuddered, and lowered the weapon: so tena-
ciously do we cling to life!
Below, they were all quite stunned by the suddenness
of the shot. Instantly they sought the fallen man’s side,
and a hasty examination gave them the opinion that the
man was dead. Happily a doctor was on the way, Servan
having given the call, as one of the Black Hundred had
been wounded badly. I
289


290 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
But what to do with that mad woman up-stairs? Har—
greave advised them to wait. The house was sur-
rounded; she could not possibly escape save by one
method, and perhaps that would be the best for her.
Hargreave looked gravely at Norton as he offered this
suggestion. The reporter understood: the millionaire
was willing to give the woman a chance.
“And you are my father ?” said Florence, still be-
wildered by the amazing events. “But I don’t under-
stand yet!” her gaze roving from the real Jones to her
father.
“I don’t doubt it, child,” said Hargreave. “I’ll ex-
plain. When I hired Jones here, who is really Jedson
of the Scotland Yard, I did so because we looked alike
when shaven. It was Jedson here who escaped by the
balloon; it was Jedson who returned the five thousand
to Norton, who watched the countess’ apartment; it was
Jedson who was wounded in the arm. I myself guarded
you, my child. Last night, unbeknown to you, I left and
the real Jones—for it is easier to call him that !—took
my place.” '
“And I never saw the difference!” exclaimed Flor-
ence.
“That is natural,” smiled her father. “You were think-
ing of Norton here instead of me. Eh ?”
Florence blushed. ’
“Well, why not? Here, Norton !” The millionaire
took Florence’s hand and placed it in the reporter’s. “It
seems that I’ve got to lose her after all. Kiss her, man;
in heaven’s name, kiss her !”
And Norton threw his arms around the girl and kissed
her soundly, careless of the fact that he was observed by
both enemies and friends.


In


THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 291
Suddenly the policeman who had been standing by the
side of Braine ran into the living-room.
“He’s alive! Braine’s alive; he just stirred.”
“What?” exclaimed Norton and Hargreave in a single
breath.
“Yes, sir! I saw his hands move. It’s a good thing
we sent for a doctor. He ought to be along about now.”
Even as he spoke the bell rang: and they all surged out
into the hall, forgetting for the moment all about the
million. Olga hadn't killed the man, then? The doctor
knelt beside the stricken man and examined him. He
shrugged.
“Will he live?”
“Certainly. A scalp wound, that laid‘ him out for a
few moments. He’ll be all right in a few days. He was
lucky. A quarter of an inch lower, and he’d have passed
in his checks.”
“Good!” murmured Servan. “So our friend will ac-
company me back to good Russia? Oh, we’ll be kind to
him during the journey. Have him taken to the hospital
ward at the Tombs. Now, for the little lady up-stairs.”
A moment later Braine opened his eyes, and the police—
man assisted him to his feet. Servan, with a nod, or-
dered the police to help the wounded man to the taxicab
which had just arrived. Braine, now wholly conscious,
flung back one look of supreme hatred toward Har-
greave; and that was the last either Florence or her
father ever saw of Braine of the Black Hundred—a fine
specimen of a man gone wrong through greed and an
inordinate lust for revenge.
The policeman returned to Hargreave.
“It’s pretty quiet up-stairs,” he suggested. “Don’t you
think, sir, that I’d better try that bedroom door again ?”





294 THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY
l
v“I’m mighty glad you were on my side,” said Har-
greave. “In a few minutes we’ll go up and take a look
at those packets of bills. There’s a very unhappy young
woman there at present.”
“It is in my room P” cried Florence. ,
Hargreave nodded. "L
Meantime the Countess Olga hovered between two
courses: a brave attempt to escape by the window or to
turn the revolver against her heart. In either case there
was nothing left in life for her. The man she loved was
dead below, killed by her hand. She felt as though she
was treading air in some fantastical nightmare. She
could not go forward or backward, and her heels were
always within reach of her pursuers.
So this was the end of things? The dreams she had
had of going away with Braine to other climes, the hap—
piness she had pictured, all mere chimeras! A sudden
rage swept over her. She would escape, she would con-
tinue to play the game to the end. She would show them
that she had been the man’s mate, not his pliant tool.
She raised the window and stepped out onto the balcony
. . into the hands of the policeman who had pa-
tiently been waiting for her to do so! Instantly she
placed the revolver at her temple. A quick. clutch, and
the policeman had her by the wrist. She made one tiger-
ish effort to free herself, shrugged, and signified that
she surrendered.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Miss,” said the policeman;
“but if you make any attempt to escape, I’ll have to put
the handcuffs on you.”
“I’ll go quietly. What are you going to do with me ?”'
“Turn you over to the Russian agent. He has extradi-
tion papers; and I guess it’s Siberia.”


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THE MILLION DOLLAR MYSTERY 295
“For me?” She laughed scornfully. “Do I look like
a woman who would go to Siberia?”
“Be careful, Miss. As I said, I don’t want to put the
cuffs on unless I have to.”
She laughed again. It did not have a pleasant sound
in the officer’s ears. He had heard women, suicidal bent, ,
laugh like that.
“I’ll ask you for that ring on your finger.”
“Do you think there is poison in it?”
“I shouldn’t be surprised,” he admitted.
She slipped the ring from her finger and gave it to
him.
“There is poison in it; so be careful how you handle
it,” she said.
The policeman accepted it gingerly and dropped it into
his capacious pocket. It tinkled as it fell against the
handcuffs.
At that moment the other policeman broke in the door.
“All right, Dolan; she’s given up the game.”
“She didn’t kill the man after all,” said Dolan.
‘He’s alive ?” she screamed.
“Yes; and they’ve taken him off to the Tombs. Just
a scalp wound. He’ll be all right in a day or two.”
“Alive!” murmured Olga. She had not killed the man
she loved, then? And if they were indeed taken to Si-
beria, she would be with him until the end of things.
With her handsome head proudly erect, she walked to-
ward the door. She paused for a moment to look at the
portrait of Hargreave. Somehow it seemed to smile at
her ironically. Then on, down the stairs, between the
two ofiicers, she went. Her glance traveled coolly from
face to face, and stopped at Florence’s. There she saw
pity.




AFTER THE STORM, THE SUNSHINE





the inspirations for most of his novels while amid the
fascinating surroundings in some Asiatic harbor town,
while traveling down the Rhine, or while listening to
strains of Viennese music in some little out-of-the-way
café along the Danube. He is a genius in pen picturing
and can impart the color, the life, the action of real life
into his pages in a manner that is bound to attract.
He is fond of tennis and out~of-door sports. He
likes boxing and is one of the best amateur pool and
billiard players in the country. He has friends in almost
every large city in the world and has met more “crowned
heads” than any other author, perhaps, outside of Hallie
Errninie Rives, wife of Post Wheeler, the versatile secre—
tary of the American Embassy at Tokio.
As a collector and connoisseur, Mr. MacGrath has a
wide reputation, his especial hobby being Turkish rugs
and antique jewelry, of which he has a wonderful col-
lection. Another of his hobbies is horses, and although
he owns only one himself, he will never pass a good look-
ing horse by without stopping to pat it. He even carries
lump sugar in his pocket and takes great- delight in
feeding it to the horses of the mounted officers in New
York, many of whom (the officers) know him.
His method of working up his stories is unique. Ac-
cording to his own statement, he first “thinks out” the
start of his story, carrying his idea through what de—
velops into the first few chapters of the book. Then he
'drops the thread of thought and starts again, but this
time at the end, and figures out how he will dispose of
his characters and how best the story should end. This
accomplished, he sits down to his typewriter and “goes
to work.” While writing, he often strikes on good ideas
to be incorporated in parts already considered. Im-


mediately he jots down his idea on the back of an en-
velope or a scrap of paper and inserts the note among
the pages of his manuscript just where it belongs.
After completing his first draft, he goes back over the
entire manuscript, making corrections here and there and
additions. He then sits down to sum the whole story up
in his mind and by this process is able to pick out the
flaws. His second draft, therefore, is quite a finished
product. He makes the final draft of his manuscript him-
self, as he has found that he Often strikes upon improve-
ments at the eleventh hour that go far to better his stories.
If he turned the work of making the final draft over to
a stenographer, this last chance would be lost.
He is one of the few modern writers who does not have
to try to be funny. It is natural with him to amuse.
Those interested in the chronological order of his
stories will find them as follows:
In 1901 he published his second book, “The Puppet
Crown.” “The Grey Cloak” followed in 1903, and by
the time it_ appeared, most of the readers of fiction had
acquired the MacGrath habit and were on the lookout
for the next dose of his delightful literary stimulant that
chased the “blues.” Then came the story which estab-
lished MacGrath’s reputation, “The Man on the Box,”
which appeared in 1904 and is still one of the best sellers
in popular editions. In 1905 MacGrath put on some
extra speed. He worked a double shift in his brain mill
and the result was that before the dawn of the next
New Year’s Day he had three more successful books to
his credit. They were “The Princess Elopes,” a novelette;
“Enchantment,” a book of short stories, and “Hearts and
Masks,” a novel that dealt with entanglements developing
at a mask ball. In the same year he wrote “Half


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