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L^ ^ ^ "^ vCe,^V^

THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

I could feel the sting of the powder smoke

on ray np-thntst wrist

<~. r;.' r- '■. ft

TtSNa^

257220

CoprmoHT 1919
The Bom-MiRMu. CoMPANr

Print*d <n tht VnUei Statu of AmtHom

To Htntj, of the dome-like pate.
The dreamy eye, the Cddc wh

And kindly heart, I dedicate

This blithe rmnance ccmcetred and wiit

By one of that triumvirate

Who knew Defeat, yet camjixred it.

CONTENTS

euAmm

I Running Out op Pay-Dirt

II Thk Ox-Blood Vasb

III Trk Stolen Whsel-Cocb

IV The Open Door .

V The Man prom Medicine Hat
VI The Irreproachable Butler
VII The Panama Gold Chbsts
VIII The Dummy-Chuckbr
IX A Rialto Rain-Storm •
X The Thumb-Tap Clue
XI The Nilb<jrben Roadster

1
26

68
87
120
160
180
211
249
280
810

THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

The Man Who Couldn't Sleep

*»
CHAPTER I

RUNNING OUT OF PAY-DIRT

IX) begin with, I am a Canadian by birth, and
Th. ^"^-^"^ y^^ old. For nine of those years
I have hved m New York. And by my friends in that
city 1 am regarded as a successful author.

There was a time when I even regarded myself in
mucli the same light But that period is past I
now have to face the fact that I am a failure. For
when a man is no longer aWe to write he naturally
can no longer be reckoned as an author.

I have made the name of Witte. KtTf oot too weU
toown, I think, to explain that practicaUy all of my
stones have been written about Alaska. Just why I
resorted to that far-off country for my settings is still
niore or Iws a mystery to me. Perhaps it was merely
b«auj« of Its far-offness. Perhaps it was because
toe editors remembered that I came from the land of
toe beaver and sagely concluded that a Canadian would
be most at home in writing about the Frozen North
At any rate, when I romanced about the Yukon and
Its ice-bound trails they bought my stories, and asked
lor nK>re.

And I gave them more. I gave them bfood-red
fiction about gun-men and claim-jumpers and Siwash

a THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

queens and salmon fisheries. I gave them supermen
of iron, fighting against cold and hunger, and snarl'
ing, always snarling, at their foes. I gave them ora-
torical young engineers with clear-cut features and
•sinews of steel, battling against the forces of hyper-
ix)rean evil. I gave them fist-fights that caused
-my books to be discreetly shut out of school-libraries
yet brought in telegrams from motion-picture direct-
ors for first rights. I gave them enough gun-play to
shoot Chilcoot Pass into the middle of the Pacific,
and was publicly denominated as the apostle of the
Eye-Socket School, and during the threc-hundred-
night run of my melodrama, T/ie Pole Raiders, even
beheld on the Broadway sign-boards an extraordinarily
stalwart picture of myself in a rakish Stetson and a
Jiannel shirt very much open at the throat, with a cow-
hide holster depending from my Herculean waist-line
and a very dreadful-looking six-shooter protruding
from the open top of that belted holster. My pub-
lishers spoke of me, for business reasons, as the In-
terpreter of the Great Northwest. And I exploited
that territory with the industry of a badger. In my
own way, I nined Alaska. And it brought me in a
very respectable amount of pay-dirt

But I knew nothing about Alaska. I had never
even seen the country. I "crammed up" on it, of
course, the same as we used to cram up for a third-
form examination in Latin grammar. I perused the
atlases and sent for governmental reports, and pored
over the R. N. W. M. P. Blue Books, and gleaned a
hundred or so French-Canadian names for half-breed

RUNNING OUT OF PAY-DIRT 3

villains from a telq)hone-djTectoiy for the city of
Montreal. But I knew no more about Alaska than
a Fiji Islander knows about the New Yofk Stock Ex-
change. And that was why I could romance so freely,
so magnificently, about it!

I was equally prodigal of Wood, I suppose, because
I had never seen the real thing flow— except in the
ru.c of my little niece, when her tonsils had been re-
moved and a very soft-spoken nurse had helped me
out of the surgery and given me a drink of ice-water,
after telling me it would be best to keep my head as
low as possible until I was feeling better. As for
firearms, I abhorred them. I never shot off an air-
rifle without first shutting my eyes. I never picked up
a duck-gun without a wince of aversion. So I was
able to do wonderful things with firearms, on paper.
And with the Frozen Yukon and firearms combined,.
I was able to work miracles. I gave a whole continent
goose-flesh, so many tunes a season. And the conti-
nent seemed to enjoy it, for those airy essays in iron
and gore were always paid for, and paid for at higher
and higher rates.

While this was taking place, something even more
important was taking place, something which finally
brought me in touch with Mary Lockwood herself.
It was accident more than anything else, I think, that
first launched me in what is so indefim*tdy and often
so disparagingly known as society. Society, as a rule,
admits only the lions of my calling across its sacred
portals. And even these lions, I found, were accepted
under protest or the wing of some commendable effort

f»^'

4 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

for dttrity. and having roared thdr little hour, were
let pas8quieUy out to obUvion again. Btttlhadbeen
lucky enough to bring letters to the P^ytom and to
the Gruger-Phihnores, and these old families, I will
be honest enough to confess, had been foolish enouffh
to like me. ^

So from the first I did mjr best to live up to
those earlier affiliations. I found myself passed on.
from one mysteriously barricaded sechision to the
other. The tea-hour vidt merged into the formal
dinner, and the formal dinner into the even more
formal box at the Horse-Show, and then a call to
fill up a niche at the Metropolitan on a Caruso-night,
or a vacancy for an Assembly Dance at Sherry's, or a
week at Tuxedo, in winter, when the skating was
good.

I woriced hard to keep up my end of the game. But
I was an impostor, of course, all along the line. I
<oon saw that I had to prove more than acceptable; I
liad also to prove dependdf\ That I was a writer
meant nothing whatever to tliose people. They had
scant patience with the long-haired genius type. That
went down only with musicians. So I soon learned
to keep my bangs clipped, my trousers creased, and
my necktie inside my coat-lapcls. I also learned to
use my wits, and how to key my talk up to dowager
or down to dejutante, and how to be passably amus-
ing even before the champagne course had arrived.
I made it a point to remember engagements and an-
niversaries, and more than once sent flowers and
Millairds, which I went hungry to pay for. Even

RUNNING OUT OF PAY-DIRT

my pou'hoire* to butlert tnd footmen and matdt stood
a matter, in those earlier days, for much secret and
seduloiis consideration.

But, IS I have said, I tried to keep up my end. I
Uked those hu^ and orderly houses. I liked the
quiet-mannered people who lived in them. I liked
looking at life with their hill-top unconcern for triviali-
ties. I grew rather contemptuous of my humUer
feltow-workers who haunted the neighborhood theaters
and the red-inkeries of Greenwich Village, and orated
Socialism and bhmk-verse poems to garret audiences,
and wore window-curtain cravats and cdlutoid blink-
ers with big round lenses, and went in joyous and car»-
mel-eating groups to the "rush" seats at RigoUtto. I
was accepted, as I have akeady tried to explain, at: an
impecunious but dependable young bachebr. And
I suppose I could have kept on at that role, year after
year, until I developed into a foppish and somewhat
threadbare okl beau. But about this time I was giv-
ing North America its first spasms of goose-flesh with
my demigod type of Gibsonian engineer who fought
the viOain until his flannel shirt was in rags and then
shook his fist in Nature's face when she dogged him
with the Eternal Cokl. And there was money in
writing for flat-dwellers about that Eternal Cold, and
about battling daw to chw and fang to fang, and
about eye-sockets without any eyes in them. My in-
come gathered like a snow-balL And as it gathered I
began to fed that I ought to have an establishment—
not a badc-room studio in Washington Square, nor s
garret hi die A^Uage of tiie Free-Versers, nor a mere

6 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEER

•putmcnt in the West Sixtiet, nor evtn a ^hipiac
overloddng Central Parte South. I wanted to be
aomething more than a number. I wanted a house, a
liouse of mjr own, and a cat-footed butler to put a
Iddtory-log on the fire, and a full set of Sivres on my
mahogany sideboard, and something to stretch a strip
of red carpet across when the landaulets and the
limousines rolled up to my door.

So I took a nine-year lease of the Whighams* house
in Gramercy Square. It was old-fashioned and sedate
and unpretentious to the passing eye, but beneath that
eomewhat somber sheU nested an amazingly rich kernel
of luxuriousness. It wasgood form; it wasunbeliev
ably comfortable, and it was not what the dm&er
dutches for. The cost of even a nine-year chum on
it rather took my breath away, but the thought of
Alaska always served to stiflfen up my courage;

It was necessary to think a good deal about Akska

in those days, for after I had acquired my house I

also had to acquire a man to run it, and then a couple

of other people to help the man who helped me, and

then a town car to take me back and forth from it,

and then a chauffeur to take care of the car, and then

the service-clothes for the chauffeur, and the thousand '

and one unlocked for things, in short, which confront

the pin-feather householder and keep him from feeling

too much a lord of creation.

Yet in Benson, my butler, I undoubtedly found a
g:em of the first water. He moved about as silent as
a panther, yet as watchful as an eagle. He couW be
tdriquitous and self-obliterating at one and the

RUNNING OUT OF PA^^XRT

tine. H« wts taedawN incamatt, and yet he coold
coerce me into a predctemitiied line ol conduct at
inexorablx aa steel railt lead a ttreet-car along ita
predeatined line of traffic. He was» in lact, mudi
more than a butler. He waa a vakt and a (*«/ d^
adimg and a lord-higb-chamberlain and a purchaainf-
agent and a body-guard and a benignant-ey«d old god-
father all in one. The man babitd me. I could tee
that all along. But I waa aheai|y an overworked
and slightly neurasthenic ^edmen, even in those days,
and I was glad enough to have that masked and silent
Efficiency always at my elbow. There were times, too^
when his activitiea merged mto those of a trained
nunc, for when I smoked too much he hid away my
dgars, and when I worked too hard he impersonally
remembered what momfaig horseback ridtiv ^ ^
park had done for a former master of hia. And when
I drifted into the use of chknral hydrate, to make me
sleep, that dangerous little bottle had the habit of
disappearing, mysteriously and inec|^cabty <f!t ippear-
mg, from its allotted place in my bathroom cabinet

There was just one thing in which Benson disa^
pointed me. That was in his stidbbom and unreason-
able aMrerskm to Latreille, my French dumffeur. For
Latreine waa as efficient, m his way, as Benson him-
self. He undentood his car, he understood the traffic
rules, and he understood what I wanted of him.
Latreille was, after a mannur of speakuig, a find of
my own. Dinhig one night at the Peytons', I had met
the C(»mussic»ia' of PoHc^ ^i^ had i^ven me a
card to stroll through Headquarters and inqieot the

■i'"

8 THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP '

machinery of the law. I had happened on Latrdlle as
he was being measured and "mugged" m the Identifi-
cation Bureau, with those odd-looking BertiUon forceps
takmg his cranial measurements. The intelligence of
the man mterested me; the inalienable look of re-
spectabihty in his face convinced me. as a student of
human nature, that he was not meant for any such
fate or any such environment And when I looked
into his case I found that instinct had not been amiss.
The unfortunate fellow had been "framed" for a car-
theft of which he was entirely innocent He ex-
•plained aU this to me, in fact, with tears in his eyes.
And circumstances, when I looked into them, bore
out his statements. So I /isited the Commissioner,
and was passed on to the Probation Officers, from
whom I caromed off to the Assistant District-Attoraey
who in turn delegated me to another official, who was
qmic^enough to suggest that the prisoner might pos-

nJl^- f."^ 'H ""^ ^^^«^ *° «"> *° *he extent
of bonding him. This I very promptly did, for I was

now determined to see poor LatreiUc once more a rree
man.

LatreiUe showed his appreciation of my efforts by
saving me seven hundred dollars when I bought my
town car- -though candor compels me to admit that I
later discovered it to be a used car rehabiKtated. and not
a product fresh from the factory, as I had anticipated.
But LatreiUe was proud of that car, and proud of his
position, and I was proud of having a French chauf-
fcur, though my ardor was dampened a littie later
on. when I discovered that LatreiUe, instead of haUing

RUNNING OUT OF PAY-DIRT

from the Bois de Boulogne and the Avenue de la Paix,
originated in the slightly less splendid suburbs of Three
Rivers, up on the St. Lawrence.

But my interest in Latreille about this time became
quite subsidiary, for something much more important
than cars happened to me. I fell in love. I fell in
love with Mary Lockwood, hcad-over-hecls in love
wiA a girl who could have thrown a town car into
the Hudson every other wedc and never have missed
it She was beautiful; she was wonderful; but she
was dishearteningly wealthy. With all those odious
ridies of hers, however, she was a terribly honest and
above-board girl, a healthy-bodied, dear-eyed, prac-
tical-minded, normal-living New York girl who in
her twenty-two active years of existence had seen
enough of the world to kiK>w what was veneer and
what was solid, and had seen enough of men to de-
mand mental camaraderie and not ^'squaw-talk" from
tiiem.

I first saw her at the Volpi sale, in the American
Art Galleries, where we chanced to bid against each
other for an old Italian table-cover, a sixteenth-century
blue velvet embroidered with gold galloon. Mary bid
me down, of course. I lost my table-cover, and with
it I lost my heart When I met her at the Obden-
Belponts, a week later, she confessed that I'd rather
been wi her conscience. She generously offered to
hand over that oblong of old velvet if I still happened
to be grieving over its loss. But I told her that all I
asked for was a chance to see it occasionally. And
.occasionally I went to see it I also saw its owner, who

i *

JO THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

became more wonderful to me, week by week. Then
I lost my head over her. That aplieresis was so com-
plete that I told Mary what had happened, and asked
her to marry me.

Mary was very practical about it all. She said she
hked me, liked me a lot. But there were other things
to be considered. We would have to wait. I had
my work to do— and she wanted it to be big work,
gloriously big work. She wouldn't even consent to a
formal engagement But we had an "understanding."
I was sent back to my v/ork, drunk with the memory
of her surrendering lips warm on mine, of her wist-
fully entreating eyes searching my face for something
which she seemed unable to find there.

That work of mine which I went back to, however,
seemed something very flat and meager and trivial
And this, I reaUzed, was a condition which would
never do. The pot had to be kept boiling, and boiHng
now more briskly than ever. I had lapsed into more
or less luxurious ways of living; I had formed ex-
pensive tastes, and had developed a fondness for
antiques and Chinese bronzes and those objets d'art
which are never found on the bargain-counter. I
had outgrown the Spartan ways of my youth when
I could lunch contentedly at Child's and sleep soundly
on a studio^ouch in a top-floor room. And more and
more that rapacious ogre known as Social Obligation
had forged his links and fetters about my movements.
More than ever, I saw, I had my end to keep up.
What should have been a recreation had become al-
most a treadmill I was a pretender, and had my pre-

RUNNING OUT OF PAY-DIRT

tense to sustain. I couldn't afford to be "dropped." I
had my frontiers to protect, and my powers to placate.
I couldn't ask Mary to throw herself away on a no-
body. So instead of trying to keep up one end, I
tried to keep up two. I continued to bob about the
fringes of the Four Hundred. And I continued to
cling hungrily to Mary's hint about doing work, glori-
ously big work.

But gloriously Wg work, I discovered, was usually
done by Icmely men, living simply and quietly, and
dvvelling aloof from the frivolous side-issues of life,
divorced from the distractions of a city which seemed
organized for only the idler and the lotos-eater. And
I could see that the pay-dirt c<Mning out of Alaska
was running thinner and thinner.

It was to remedy this, I suppose, that I dined with
my old friend Pip Conners, just back to civilization
after fourteen long years up in the Yukon. That
dinner of ours together was memorable. It was one
of the mile-stones of my life. I wanted *:o furbish up
my information on that remote comer of the world,
which, in a way, I had preempted as my own. I
wanted fresh information, first-hand data, renewed in-
spiration. And I was glad to fed Pip's homy hand
close fraternally about mine.

"Witter," he said, staring at me with open admi-
ration, "you're a wonder."

I liked Pip's praise, even though I stood a little at
a loss to discem its inspiration.

"You mean— this?" I asked, with a casual hand-
wave about that Gramerqr Square abode of mine.

THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

"No, sir," was Pip's prompt retort. "I mean those
stones of yours. I've read 'em aE"

I blushed at this, blushed openly. For such com-
m«dation from a man who knew life as it was. who
knew life m the raw. was as honey to my cars.

tfi^rer I asked, more for something to dissemble my
«nbarrassm«it than to acquire actual information.

Yes, acknowledged Pip with a rather foolish-
^undmg laugh "they come through the mails about

he^.T.'? .r^^'^ '^ *~"S*> *« "^^ down
tZ\, ^^1* ^^" '^ A«n. now and then, when
tne gun-smoke blows out of the valley r*

"Then what struck you as wonderful about themr
I inqmred. a httle at sea as to his line of thought

It snot /Am that's wonderful, Witter. It^s you.
I said you were a wonder. And you are"

And why am I a wonder?" I asked, with the drip
of the honey no longer embarrassing my modesty.

Witter, you re a wonder to get away with Ur was
Pips solemn^ intoned reply.

;To get away with it ?" I repeated
1^;^' '^ "^aJ^e it go down ! To get 'em trussed and
gagged and hog-tied I To make 'em come and eat out
of your hand and then holler for more! For I've
been up there in the British Yukon for fourteen nile
comfortable years, Witter, and I've kind o'^k^w
Ae country. I know how folks live up'S,^,:^d
what the laws are. And it may strike you as que^
mr^"?rr;^i folks up in that distri^re u2^
monly hke folks down here in the States. And mZ

t ..

RUNNING OUT OF PAY-DIRT

Klondike and this same British Yukon there is a Fire-
arms Act which makes it against the law for any
civilian to tote a gun. And that law is sure carried
out. Fact is, there's no need for a gun. And even
if you did smuggle one in, the Mounted Police would
darned soon take it away from you T
I sat staring at him.

"But all those motion-pictures/' I gasped. "And
all those noveb about — **

"That's why I say you're a wonder," broke in the
genial-eyed Pip. "You can fool aU the people all the
time! You've done it And you keep on doing it
You can put 'em to sleep and take it out of their pants
pocket before they know they've gone by-by. Why,
you've even got 'em tranced off in the matter of every-
day school-geography. You've had some of those hero-
guys o* yours mush seven or eight hundred miles, and
on a birch-bark toboggan, between dinner and supper.
And if that ain't genius, I ain't ever teen it bound up in
a reading-book r

That dinner was a mile-stone in my life, all right,
but not after the manner I had ejq)ected. For as
I sat there in a cold sweat of apprehension crowned
with shame, Pip Conners told me many things about
Alaska and the Klondike. He tdd me many things
that were new to me, disheartcningly, discouragmgly, ,
deyitaliringly new to me. WiAout knowing it, he
pdgnarded me, knifed me through and tfirou^ WiA-
out dreaming what he was doing, he eviscerated me.
He left me a hdkm and empty mask of as 88th<»-.
He left me a homeless exik, with the iron gates of

14 THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

Fact swung sternly shut on what had been a Fairy
Land of Romance, a Promised Land of untrammeUed
and car^-free imaginings.
That was my first sleepless night

T I M 1"°*^*^ *° ^^P- ^ ^^ "°*^»"« to any one.
I held that vulture of shame close in my arms and
felt Its unclean beak awling into my vitals. I tried
to go bade to my work, next day. to lose myself in
creation. But it was like seeking consolation be-
side a corpse. For me. Alaska was killed. kiUed
forever. And blight had fallen on more than my
work It had crept over my very world, the world
which only the labor of my pen could keep orderly and
orgamzed. The city in which I had seemed to sit a
conqueror suddenly lay about me a flat and monoto-
nous tableland of ennui, as empty and stale as a drcus-
tot after the last canvas-wagon has rumbled away.

I have no intention of making this recountal the
confessions of a neurasthenic Nothing is further from
my aims than the inditing of a second Qty of Dread-
ful Night. But I began to worry. And later on I be-

^ to magnify my troubles. I even stuck to New York
tim summer, for the simple reason that I couldn't
attord to go away. And it was an unspeakably hot
summer. I did my best to work, sitting for hours at
a tme stanng at a Wank sheet of paper, set out like
tang^e^oot to catch a passing idea. But not an idea
ahghted on that square of spotless white. When
1 tned new fields, knowing Alaska was dead, the
editor solemnly shook their heads and announced
that this new offering of mine didn't seem to have the

RUNNING OUT OF PAY-DIRT

snap and go of my older manner. Then panic overtook
me, and after yet another white night I went straight
to Sanson, the nerve specialist, and told him I was
going cnuy.

He laughed at me. Then he offhandedly tapped me
over and tried my reflexes and took my blood pressure
and even more diffidently asked me a question or two.
He ended up by announcing that I was as sound as a
dollar, whatever that may have meant, and suggested
as an afterthought that I drop tobacco and go m more
for golf.

That buoyed me up for a week or two. But Mary,
when she came in to town radiant and cool for
three days' shopping, seemed to detect in me a change
which first surprised and then troubled her. I was
bitterly conscious of being a disappointment to some-
body who expected great things of me. And to escape
that double-ttiged sword of mortification, I once again
tried to bury myself in my work. But I just as well
might have tried to bury myself in a butter-dish, for
there was no effort and no activity there to envelope
me. I was coerced into idleness, without ever having
acquired the art of doing nothing. For life with me
had been a good deal like boiling rice: it had to be
kept galloping to save it from gomg mushy. Yet
now the fire itself seemed out And that prompted me
to sit and listen to my works, as iht French tdkra
expresses it, wluch is never a profitable oiHing fw
a naturally na*vous man.

The lee and ^ long of it was, as «ic h\A say, that
I went back to Doctor Ssumq and demanded

i6 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

thing, in the nanM of God, that would give nw a good
night's sleqK He was less jocular, this time. He told
toe to forget my troubles and go fishing for a couple
of wedcs.

I did go fishing, but I fished for ideas. And I got
scarcely a strike. Tq leave the city was now more
than ever out of the question. So for recreation I
had Latreille take me out in the car, when a feverish
thirst for speed, which I found it hard to account
for, drove me into daily violaticms of the traffic laws.
Twice, in fact, I was fined for this, with a curtly
warning talk from the presiding magistrate on the
second occasion, since the offense, in this cas^ was
comi^icated by collision with an empty bal^-carriage.
LatreiUe, about this time, seemed uncannily conscious
of my condition. More and more he seemed to rai^
me on the raw, until irritati<m deepened into positive
dislike for the man.

When Mary came back to the city for a few days,
before going to the Virginia hills for the autumn, I
lodced so wretdied and fdt so wretched that I de-
cided not to see her. I was taking veronal now, to
make me sleep, and with cooler weather I looked for
better rest and a return to work. But my hopes were
ill-founded. I came to dread the night, and the night's
ever-recurring battle for sleep. I lost my per^>ective
on thmgs. And then came tiie crowning catastrt^^
the catastrophe which turned me into a sort of twen-
tieth-century Macbeth.

The details of that catastrophe were ludicrous
enough, and it had no definite and dear-cut outcome.

RUNNING OUT OF PAY-DIRT

«r

but its effect on my ovcr-tenuoncd nerves was salB>
ctently calamitoos. It occurred, oddly enough, on Hai-
low-e'en night, when the world is supposed to be given
over to festivity. Latreille had motored roe out to a
small dinner-dance at Washburn's, on Long Island,
but I had left early in the evening, perversely de-
pressed by a hilarity in which I had not the heart to
join. Twice, on the way back to the city, I had called
out to Latreille for more speed. We had just taken a
turn in the outskirts of Brooklyn when my swmging
headlights disclosed the figure of a man, an umtable
and wavering man, obviously drunk, totter and fall
directly in iroat of my car.

I heard the squeal of the brakes and the high-pitched
shouts from a crowd of youths akmg the sidewalk.
But it was too late. I could fed the impact as we
struck. I could feel the sickening thud and jolt as
the wheels pounded over that fallen body.

I stood up, without quite knowing what I was doing,
and screan^ed like a woman. Then I dropped weakly
back in my seat I think I was sobbing. I scarcely
noticed that Latreille had failed to stop the car. He
spoke to me twice, in fact, before I knew it.

"Shall we go on, sir?" he asked, glancing back at
me over his shoulder.

*'Go on!** I shouted, knowing well enough by this
time what I said, surrendering merely to that blind
and cowardly panic for self-preservation which marks
man at his lowest

We thumped and swerved and speeded away on the
wings of cowardice. I sat there gasping and dutd. ng

iB THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

ny moist fingers together, as Fve seen hysterical
women do, calling on Latreille for speed, and still
more^peed.

I don't know where he took me. But I became con-
scious of the consoling blackness of the night about
us. And I thanked God, as Cain must have done
when he found himself alone with his shame.

"Latreille." I said, breathing brokenly as we slowed
ui^ "did we— </« we kiU himr

My chauffeur turned in his seat and studied my
face. Then he looked carefully back, to make sure
we were not being foUowed.

"This is a heavy car, sir," he finally admitted. He
said it coolly, and almost impersonally. But the words
fell like a sledge-hammer on my heart

"But we couldn't have killed a man," I clamored
insanely, weakly, as we came to a dead stop at the
roadside.

"Forty-two hundred pounds—and he got both
wheels!" caknly protested my enemy, for I felt now
that he was in some way my enemy.

"What in heaven's name are you going to do?" I
gasped, for I noticed that he was getting down from
his seat.

"Hadn't I better get the Wood off the running-gear,
before we turn back into town?"

"Blood?" I quavered as I clutched at the robe^rail
in front of me. And that one word brought the hor-
ror of the thing home to me in all its ghastiiness. I
couM see axles and running-board and Iw^ke-bar dri|>-
ping with red, festooned with shreds of flesh, maculated

RUNNING OUT OP PAY-DIRT 19

with blickcp' nofc And I oovml ny ikoe with
my hands* and grnned tkwd in my ndmy ot 'kmL
ButUtrdlledidnotwiitfornie. He Hftcd tiie tcit-
cuihion. took rubbinfl^dodu from the tool-boar and
crawled out of light beneath the car. loouUMthe
oc«8ional tranon that went through the f rame-worlc
as he burfed himself at that gridy talk. I coiOd hear
his grunt of satisfaction when he had finished. And

I watched him with stricken Q^ as he stqjped through
the vague darkness and tossed his telltale ck)ths far
over the roadskle fence;

"If s all right/' he companionably announced as he
stepped back into the car. But there was a new note
in the man's demeanor, a note which even throngfa

that Wack fog of terror reached me and awakened my
waentment We were Friners in crime; We were
fcUow-actors in a drama of indescribable cowardice,
and! was in the man's power, to the end of &nfc

The outcome of that catastrophe, as I have already
said, was indefinite, torturingly indefinite. I was
too shaken and sick to ferret out its consequences.
I left that to LatrdUc, who seemed to understand
well enough what I expected of him.

That first night wore by, and nothmg came of it
all. The mommg dragged away, and my fellow-
cnmmal seemingly encountered nothmg worthy of
rehetrsal to me. Then stiU another night came and
w«t I went through the published hospital reports.
«id the p^ records, with my heart in my mouth.

But I could unearth no official account of &e tragedy
I even encountered my good friend PUrofanan Mo^

JO THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

Cboey, apptraitly by tccident, and held him up on hit
beat about Gramercy Pkrk to make casual inquirict
at to strcet-accidenti, and if fuch things were increas-
ing of late. But nothing of moment, apparently, had
come to McCooey's ears. And I stood watching him
as he flatfooted his way pbddly on from my house-
front, with one of my best cigars tucked under his
tunic, wondering what the world would say if it knew
that Witter Kerfoot, the intrepid creator of sinewy
supermen who snar! and fight and shake iron fists in
the teeth of Extremity, had run like a rabbit from a
human being he had bowled over and killed?

I still hoped against hope, however, trying to tell
myself that it is no easy thing to knock the life out of
a man, passionately upbraiding myself for not doing
what I should have done to succor the injured, then
sinkingly remembering what Latreille had mentioned
about the weight of my car. Yet it wasn't until the
next night, as I ventured out to step into that odiously
ponderous engine of destruction, that uncertainty solidi-
fied into fact

"You got him*' announced my chauffeur out of one
side of his mouth, so that Benson, who stood on the
house-steps, might not overhear those fateful words.

"Got him?" I echoed, vaguely rescpting the man's
use of that personal pronoun singular.

"Killed r' was Latreillc's monosyllabic explanation.
And my heart stopped beating.

"How do you know that?" I demanded in whisper
ing horror. For I understood enough of the law of
the land to know that a speeder who flees from the

RUNNING OUT OF PAY-DIRT n

▼fedn of hb cardenncff it twhaictlly guilty of maa.
•lauflittr.

"A naa I know, numd Cretty, hdped any tlit
bo^jr bide to liit Jioute. Crotty't Jytt told me about
ft.**

Uy fact mutt have frightened Latreille» for he
covered his movement of catching hold of my ann ty
<w«nooiott«ly opening the car door tor me.

"Sit tight, mani" he ordered hi his curt and con-
spiratorial undertone. "Sit tight— for it's aU that* s
left to dor

I sat tight It was an there was to do. I endured
LatreiUe's accession of self-importance without com-
"nent There promptly grew up between us a tadt
understanding of silence. Yet I had reason to fed
that this silence wasn't aWrays as profound as it
seemed. For at the end of my third day of self-
torturing solitude I went to my dub to dine. I went
with set teeth. I went in the hope of ridding my sys-
tem of self.fear, very much as an alcoholic goes to a
Turkish-bath. I went to mix once more with my fel-
lows, to prove that I stood on common ground with
them

But the mixing was not a success. I stepped across
that famUiar portal in quavering dread of hostility.
And I found what I was looking for. I detected mysdf ,
bcmg eyed coldly by men who had once posed as my
fnends. I dined alone, oppressed by the discovery
that I was bdng deliberately avoided fay the fdlow-
mcmbers of what shouM have been an organized com-
panionabiHty. Then I todc a grip on mysdf, and for-

« THE MAN WHO COtnjDNT SLEEP

lomly argued that it was aU mere imaginatioii, (
vaponngs of a morbid and chlorotic mind. tS I
next moment a counter-shock confronted me. For
I stared desolatery out of that dub window I can.
Sight of UWUe himself. He stood there at the cJ
taUting confident^ to three other chauflTeur, cluster
about h.m between their cats. Nothing, I sudden

a word dropprf m one servant's ear would soon Ls .
toanofter. And that other would cany the S
sull wider, unta it spread like an inf ectiZ f rom S

^\ ^^''^ '^ '«" P"™«« '»">« to tl
veor housetops. And already I was a marked ma.,
panah, an outcast with no friendly wUdemess t
swallow me upi "uuemess t

I slunk home that ni^t with a plumb^ob of lea
«™gu« undjr my rib, whe„ my hear, should W
bcCT. I tiled to sleep and could not slem. So
to* a double dose of dUoral hydrWe, a^waTre
warded ^& a few boor, of nighCTwS^^
a twenUedKentmy Attila driving a radng^ar Z
an «jdle,s avenue of demided infant,. Twa, .H
homWe that it left me Kmp «rf q„ailing mJ^Z

>»Wy at flie thought of Mary Lockwood uul A.
a-Wtinted hills of T,r^ T^ ^^^

getting away from that city of kMt deeo I^A.
-^ of «ex«rio„«„g.. what JTc^ ^ t

tnost soul I wajt amirmA «-•*!. j « '~««HS "*/ m-

ui. i was seizea witti a sudden and fthriu
ache for c^^onshi^ So I .«* . f.^^^^^^

RUNNING OUT OF PAY-DIRT

latton, the
Yet the
t. For as
r I caught
t the curb,
clustered
suddenfy
ing. And
>n pass on
s whisper
>m below-
les to the
d man, a
auess to

> of lead
uld have
^ So I
was re-
in I was
ar over
IS all so
Fore' the
ion that
i fever-
md the
leed of
fdttfae
my in-
fdmle
nd wire

to the only woman in the world I could look to in my
extremity. And the next morning brought me a reply.

It merely said, "Don't come."

The bottom seenieJ to fall out of the world, with
that curt message, and I grope 1 forlornly, frantically,
for something stable 10 sustain me. But there was
nothing. Bad news, I bitterly reminded myself, had
the habit of traveling fast Mary knew. The endless
chain had widened, like a wirdess-wave. It had rolled
on, like war-gas, until it had blighted even the slopes
beyond the Potomac. For Mary knew!

It was two days later that a note, in her picket-fence
script that was as sharp-pointed as arrow-heads, fol-
lowed after the telegram.

"There are certain things," wrote Mary, "which
I can scarcely talk about on paper. At least, not as I
should prefer talking about them. But these things
must necessarily make a change in your life, and in
mine. I don't want to seem harsh. Witter, but we can't
go on as we have been doing. We'U both have to get
used to the idea of trudging along in single harness.
And I think you will understand why. I'm not ex-
acting explanations, remember. I'm merely requesting
an armistice. If you intend to let me, I still waat to
be your friend, and I trust no perceptible gulf wiU
yam between us, when we chance to dine at the
same table or step through the same coHOum. But I
must bow to those newer cincumstances which seem
to have confronted you even before they presented
themselves to me. So when I say good-by, it is more
to the Past I think, than to You."

That was the first night, I remember, when sleq>-

24 THE MAN WHO COUI^DNT SLEEP

ing-powders proved of no earthly use to me. And
this would not be an honest record of events if I
neglected to state that the next day I shut myself up
m my study and drank much more Pommery-Greno
than was good for me. I got drunk, in fact, blindly,
stupidly, senselessly drunk. But it seemed to drape a
veil between me and the past It made a bonfire of my
body to bum up the debris of my mind. And when
poor old patient-eyed Benson mixed me a bromide and
put me to bed I felt Uke a patient coming out of
ether after a major operation. I was tired, and I
wanted to lie there and rest for a kmg time;

CHAPTER II

THE OX-BLOOD VASB

r* was a wedc later, and well after two, in the
dullest ebb of earth's deadest hour, when Benson
lifted the portiere and stepped into my room.

I put down the bode at which my bnan had been
scratching like a dog scratehing at a closed door. It
was a volume of Gautier's nouvelles. I had just
reached that mildly assuaging point in Une Nuit de
CUop&tre where the mysterious arrow, whistling
through the palace window of a queen bored ahnost to
extinction, buries itself quivering in the cedar wainscot-
ing above her couch.

But the incident, this time, seemed to have lost its
ajqieal. The whole thing sounded very empty and
old, very foolish and far-away. The thrill of drama,
I cogitated, is apt to leak out of a situation when it
conies to one over a circuit of two Aousand niol^r*
ing years. So I looked up at my servant a little listless-
ly and yet a little puzzled t^ what was ^binly a
studied calmness of appearance.

"Benson, why arm't you in bed ?^

"If you win pardon me, sir," began the mtnider,
"IVe a gentleman here."

He was so extraordinarily cool about it that I rose
like a fish at the flash of something uiuimiaL

"At this time of night?" I inquiftd.

26 THE MAN WHO COUI-DN'T SLEEP

"Yes, sir."

"But what kind of gentleman, Benson?"

Benson hesitated; it was the sort of hesitation that
is able to translate silence into an apology.

"I think, sir, it's a burglar."

"A what?" I demanded, incredulous^.

"The fact is, sir, I 'a{q>ened to hear him at the lock.
When he forced the door, sir, not being* aUe to work
the lock, I was waiting for him."

The dropped aspirate was an unfailing sign of mental
disturbance in Bensoa I closed my book and tossed it
aside. It was <mly drama of the second dimension, as
old and musty as a mummy. And here, apparently, was
adventure of the first water, something of my own
world and time.

"This sounds rather interesting, Benson. Be so
good as to show the gentleman up."

I sat down, with a second look at the dragging
Icands of the little French dock on my mantd. But
Benson still seemed a trifle ill at ease.

"I — I took the liberty of tying him up a bit, sir,"
explained that astute old dissembler, "being compelled,
as it were, to use a bit of force."

"Of course. Then untie him as much as necessary,
and fetch him here. And you might tx-ing up a bottle
of Lafitte and a bite to eat For two, if you please."

"Yes, sir," he answered. But still he hesitated.

"The revolver, sir, is in the cabinet-drawer on your
left."

There were times ivlten old Bensem could almost
make me laugh; times when the transparendes of his

THE OX-BLOOD VASE

obliquities converted them into something ahnost re-
spefAsAAc

"We won't need the revolver, Benson. What I
most need I fancy is amusement, distraction, excite-
ment, anything — ^anything to get me through this end-
less hell of a night**

I could feel my voice rise cm the closing words,
like the uprear of a terrified racdiorse. It was not
a good sign. I got up and paced the rug, like a cast-
away pacing some barren and empty island. But
here, I told myself, was a timely footprint I waited,
as breathless as a Crusoe awaiting his Friday.

I waited so long that I was begging to dread some
mishap. Then tiie portiere parted for the seccmd time,
and Benson led the burglar into the room.

I experienced, as I looked at him, a distinct sense
of disappcnntment He was not at all what I ec-
pected. He wore no black mask, and was ndther
burly nor ferocious. The thing that first impressed me
was his sloidemess — an almost feline sort of slender-
ness. The fact I next remariced was that he was very
badly frightened, so frightened, in fact, that his face
was the tint of a rather soiled white glove. It could
never have been a ruddy face. But its present start-
ling pallor, I assumed, must have been largely due
to Benson's treatment, although I was still puzzled
by the look of abject terror which gave the captive's
eyes their animal-like glitter. He stood before me
for all the work! as though a hospital interne had been
practising abstruse bandaging feats on his body, so
neatly and yet so firmly had the redoubtable Benson

38 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

; it:

hobUed him and swathed his arms in a half-dozen of
n^ best Irish linen table-napkins. Over these, again,
had been wound and buckled a trunk-strs^. Benson
had not skimped his job. His burglar was wrapped as
securely as a butcher wraps a boned rib-roast.

My hope for ai^ diverting talk along the more {»c>
turesque avenues of life was depressingly short-lived.
The man remained both sullen and silent. His sulky
speechlessness was plainly that of a low order of mind
menaced by vague uncertainties and mystified by new
surroundings. Blood still dripped slowly down the
back of his soiled collar, where Benson's neat whelp
had abraded the scalp.

Yet his eyes, all the time, were alert enough. They
seemed to take on a wisdom that was uncanny, the
inarticulate wisdom of a reptile, bewildering me, for
all their terror, with some inner sense of vicious secur-
ity. To fire questions at him was as futile as throw-
ing pebbles at an alligator. He had determmed,
apparently, not to open his lips; though his glance,
all this time, was never an idle or empty one. I gave
up, with a touch of anger.

"Frisk him," I told the waiting Benson. As that
underworld phrase was new to thor respectable
Anglian ears, I had to translate it. "See * he's carry-
ing a gun. Seardi his pockets — every one of them.'*

This Benson did, with an affective mingling of
muffled caution and open repugnance. He felt from
pocket to pocket, as gingerly as small boys feel into
ferret holes, and with one eye always on the colorless
and sphinx-like face beside him.

THE OX-BLOOP VASE

The resuh of that search was quite eiiC9iiragmg.
From one pocket came an ugly, short-barreled Colt
From another came two skeleton keys and a few
inches of copper wire bent into a coil. From still
another came a small electric flashlight Under our
burglar's coat, with one end resting m his left-hand
waistcoat pocket, was a twenty-inch steel "jimmy."
It was a very attractive tod, not unlike a long and
extremely slender stove lifter, with a tip-tilted end. I
found it suggestive of tremendous leverage-power,
tempting one to test its strength. It proved as in-
viting to the hand as a golfer's well-balanced "driver."

From the right-hand waistcoat pocket Benson pro-
duced a lady's gold watch, two finger rings, a gold
barrette, and a foot or two of old-fashioned k)cket
chain, of solid gold. There was nothing to show who
the owner of this jewelry might be.

"I suppose you just bought this at Tlfeny'sr I
inquired. But the needle of antiphrasis had no effect
on his indurated hide. His passivity waa beginning
to get on ny nerves. He might have been a wax
figure m the Eden Mus^ were it not for those reptil-
iously alert and ever exaq>erating eyes. I stood up
and confronted hinL

'T want to know where this stuff came from."

The white-faced burglar still looked at me out of
those sullen and rebeOioaa blinkert of Us. Bttt not
a word passed his lips.

"Then we'll investigate a little farther," I said, ey^
ing his somewhat protuberant breast-bone. ''Go on
widi the search, Benson, and get everythbg." For it

30 THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

was plain that oar visitor, before honoring tu Aat
night, had caUed at othw homes.

I watched Benson with increased interest as his
fastidiously exploring hand went down inside the
buijrlars opened waistcoat I saw him feel there^ and
as he did so I caught a change of expression on our
pnsoner's face. He looked worried and harassed bjr
this time; he seemed to have lost his tranquil and
snake-like assurance. His smaU, lean head with the
I»theticaUy eager eyes took on a rat-like look. Iknew
then the end toward which my mind had been groping.
The man was not snake-like. He was rat-like. He was
a cornered rat Rat seemed written all over him.

But at that moment my eyes went back to Benson,
for I had seen his hand bringing away a smaU vase
party wrapped in a pocket-handkerchief. This
handkerchief was extremely dirty.

I took the vase from his hand, drawing away the
rag Aat screened it Only by an effort, as I did so,
was I able to conceal my surprise. For one glance
at Aat slender Kttle column of sang^e-boeuf rorcelain
told me what it was. There was no possibility of
mistake One glimpse of it was enough. It was from
the Gubtill collectioa For once before my fingers had
caressed the same gla^e and the same tender con-
tours. Once before, and under vastly different cir-
cumstances, I had weighed that delkate tube of pwce-
lam m my contemi^ative hands.

I sat back and looked at it more carefully I ex-
amined the crackled groundwork, with its brilliant
mottled tones, and its ijaleruby shades that deepened

THE OX-BLOOD VASE

3«

into crimsoiL I peered down at the foot of enameled
white with its skmfy deepening tmge of pale green.
Then I looked up at the delicate lip^ the lip that had
once been injured and artftilly banded with a ring of
gold. It was a vase of the K'angshi Period, a rare
and beautiful specimen among the Lang Yao mono-
chromes. And history s»id that thirty years before
it had been purchased from the sixth Primre of Pddn»
and had always been known as "The Flame."

Both Anthony Gubtill and I had bid for that vase.
Our contest for it had been a i^irited one, and had
even been made the subject of a paragraph or two in
the morning papers. But an inexplicably reddess
mood had overtaken that parsimonious old collector,
and he had won, though the day after the Graves sale
I had been a member of that decorously appmnative
diniwr party which had witnessed its installation be-
tween a rather valuable peach-bloom Bmfhon. of
haricot-red groundwork, with rose ^K>t8 accentuated
by the usual clouds of apfde-green, and a taller and,
to my mind, much m<M« valuaMe aslwsH)f-roee8
cylindrical Lang Yao with a carved ivory base. We
had locktd on tiie occasion as scmiewhat of an events
for such tlungs naturally are not pkiced up evtfy
day. So the mere sight of tiie vase todc me bade to
die Gubtill home, to tlttt rkfa and tptuaoKM hooie on
lower Fifth Avenue what I had spent not a lew
happy evedngs. And tiiat in turn took my tiwof^
bade to a certain Volpl sale and an old Iti^an tiiile-
cover of blue vdvet From dw ttl^-cover tiiey findled
oa to Maiy Lodcwood and tiie r ementi bered kiv^flest

1«

3a THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

of her £ue at we stood aide fay tide ttaring down at
the gold galloon along the borders of that old vett-
ment Then I drew memory up thort, with a wince,
at I tttddenly realized that the wanderer had been
poetrating into ttrictly forbidden paths.

I put the vase down on my table and turned away
ftwn it. not caring to betray my interest in it, nor
to give to the rat-like eyet ttiU watching me any ink-
ling of my true feeUngs. Yet the thought of such
beauty being in the hands of a brute like that sickened
««. I was angered by the very idea that such grace
and deficacy shoukl be outraged by the foul rags and
the even fouler touch of a k»w-browed sneakthief. I
resented the outrage^ just at any normal mind would
resent a jungle -'s abduction of a delicate child.

I turned and .ooked the criminal up and down. I
noticed, for the first time, that his face was beaded
with sweat

"Might I inquire just what you intend dtAng with
tt»a?" I asked, gazing back, agamst my will, at the
fragile little treasure known as The Flame.

The man moved uneasily, and for the first time.
For the first time, too, he spoke.

"Give it to its owner," he said.

"And who is its owner?"

He k)oked from me to the vase, and then back
again.

"It beknigs to a pal 0* mine over t' Fifth Avenue,"
he had the effrontery to assert.
"And where did you get it?"
**Out o' hock!"

THE CX-BLOOD VASE

Ioottldn't rcttrain ft toodi of jfTWtlffnrn •• mv
giaaoe f dl on the til too doquent inipl fn ifntt of
burgfary.

"And you expect me to ■waflour lliat?^ I dftninded.

''I don't give a dam' what you swallow. I know
the trut' when Fm sayin' itt**

"And you're telling me the truth ?" I found it hard
to keep my anger within bounds.

"Sure," was his curt answer.

"That's a cowardly lie I" I cried out again. "You're
a coward and a liar, like all your sneaking kind, that
dculk about dark comers, and crawl undo* beds^ and
arm yourself to the teeth, and stand ready to murder
innocent women, to strike them down in the dark,
rather than be found out! It's cowardice, the lowest
and meanest kind of cowardice!"

The sweat stood out on his face in glistening drops.

"What's eatin' you, anyway The demanded. "What
'ave I done?"

I pushed the cluster of women's jewelry ck>ser to
hinL

"VcmVe done some of the meanest and dirtiest
work a num can stoop to. You've skulked and crawled
and slunk through tiie dark to rob women and chiK
drenr

"Who's given you a ficense to call me a coward?"

"Do you dare to intimate there's anything but tow
and arrant cowardice in work like this?"

"Just try it," he said with a grin that made Us
face hideous.

"Why sbodd I try it?" I demanded. "Do yon.

34 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

•oppose bectuse I don't cany a jimmy and gun that
I can't face honest danger when I need tor

I glanced round at my den walls, studded with
^hies as they were, f wm the buH moose over the
fireplace to the leopard pel jnder my heels. The
otfier man followed my glance, hut with a lipsatri
of contempt. He had jumped to the conclusion, of
«ouMe, that those relics of encounter in the open
atood as a sort of object-lesson of bravery which be-
longed to me in perscm.

"Bah," he said, apparently glad to crowd me off
into some less personal side-issue, "thafs all play-
actm . Get up against what I have, and you'd tone
down your squeal. Then you'd walk into the real
thmg."

"The real thing, black-jacking chambermaids and
rmmng like a pelted cur at the sight of a brass but-
ton!

I could see his sudden wince, and that it took an
effort for him to speak.

"You'd find it took nerve. aU right, all right," he
retorted. 'And the kind o' nerve that ain't a cuff-
shooter's long suit."

My movement of contempt brought him a step or two
nearer. But it was Benson who spoke first.

"Hadn't we better have the police, sir?" he sue-
g«ted. The burglar, with his eyes on my face, stepprf
still closer as though to . >ulder any such suggw^
as Benson's out of the issue.

"You just go out in the middle of the night," he
went on, with derisive voluWKty. "Go out at night

THE OX-BLOOD VASE

and look at a hoiiae; Stand off, and look at h good
and plenty. Then ask youndf who's inside, and what's
doin' behind them brick walls, and who's awake, and
where a shot's goin' to ctmte from, and what chances
of a getaway you'll have, and the size of the bit youll
get if you're pinched. Just stand there and tell your-
self you've got to get inside that house, and make
your haul and get away with the goods, that you've
got to do it or go with empty guts. Try it, and see
if it takes nerve."

I must have touched his professional pride. I had
trifled with that ethical totem-pole that k ' -^own as
honor among thieves.

"All right," I said, suddenly turning on him as die
in^rati<Mi came to me. "We'll try it, and we'll try
it tc^ether. F<m> I'm going to nakc you take this
stuff back, and take it back to-night."

I could see his face doud. Then a sudden chai^
came over it His rat-like eyes actually began to
twinkle.

1 thmk we ought to have the police, sir," reiter-
ated Benson, remembering, doubtless, his encounter
bdow-stairs. "He's an uncommon tridcy one, sir."

I saw, on more sober second thought, that it would
be giving my friend too mudi rope, too many chances
for treachery. And he would not be over-nice m his
methods, I knew, now that I had him cornered. A
secmid idea occurred to me, a rather intoxicating one.
I stttldenhr f eh like a Cntsader saving from poli^oiL
a sacred relic I could catch the whinq>er of some
wdcenneled sense of drama m tiie affair.

[f r

36 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

J^Benson - I sai^ «rm going to leave this worthy
gentleman here with you. And while you look afta:
a^tl^ ^"^^ *° '**"™ *'" peach-bloom vase to its

"And to demonstrate to his somewhat cynical cast
of mind that there's nothing extraordinaiy in his par-
ticular hne of activity. I propose to return it in Ae
same manner that it was taken."

Benson looked troubled.

:. 2^^"? ^\^* '"^«**"'* ^* «** «» »M into
abitoftaxjuble? Couldn't we leave it until morning,
sir and talk it over quiet-like with your friend Mr
McCooey, c^ with Lieutenant Helton, sir. or the gentle-
man from the Knkerton office?"

. .'rf • 1-!f r * ^-*^«>t«^ ™n"»ng for hdp over such
atnvi|aity? Never. Benson, never! You will maS
yourself comfortable here with this gallant g^!
n«n of the black-jack, and keep this EandsomfaJt
of his qmte close about you while you're doing it

^.rlTfS'"^ *^ '^\'^' P*'~^ °^ P°^^^'" back
where it belongs, even though I have to face a dozen

S^TntolfyslrntT "^ '^"^^ °^ ^-^^^
Nobody. I have more than once contended, is alto-
gether sane after midnight. This belief came back to
me as I stood before that gloomy-fronted Fifth Avenue
house, m that ebb-tide hour of the night when ev^
Broadway is empty, wondering what lay behind the
brownstone mask, asking myself what dangers luriced

THE OX-BLCX)D VASE

about that inner gloom, speculating as to what sleep-
ers stirred and what eyes, even as I stood there, might
be alert and watching.

As Benson had suggested, I might have waited
decorously until daylight, or I might have quietly
ascended the wide stone stqM and continued to ring
the electric push-bell until a sleepy servant answered
it But that, after aU, seemed absurdly tame and
commonplace. It was without the slightest tang of
drama, and I was as waywardly impatient to try that
enticing tip-tilted instrument of steel on an opposing
door as a boy with a new knife is to whitttt on the
nursery woodwork.

There was a tingle of novelty even in standing before
a grimly substantial and altogether foibidding>looking
house, and being conscious of the fact that you had
decided on its secret invasion. I could no kxiger deny
that It tock a certain criMte form of nervt. I was
convinced of this, indeed, as I saw die approaching
figure of a patrohnan on his rounds. It caused me^
as I f dt the jimmy like a stayfaone against my ribt^
and the flashlight like a torp«lo-head in my pocket*
to swing promptly about into Twelfth Street and walk
toward Sixth Avenue. I experienced a distinct f^Um
of satisfactioa as the patmllii^ footsteps passed north-
ward up the quietness of the avenue

But the house hsdf seemed as impregnable at &
fortress. It disheartened me a little to find that not
even a basement grin had been disturbed. For the
secemd time I turned ai^ sauntered i&ywly toward
Sixth Avenue. As I twoof caitwanl again I found

38 THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

that the last house on the side-strect, the house abut-
ting the Fifth Avenue mansion which was the object
of my attack, was vacant. Of that there could be no
doubt Its doors and windows were sealed with
neatly painted shutters.

This, it occurred to me, might mark a possible line
of approach. But here again I faced what seemed
an impregnable position. I was backing away a little
studying that boarded and coffin-like front, when my
hwl grated against the iron covering of a coal-chute.
This coal-chute stood midway between the curb and
the area nuling. I looked down at it for a moment
or two. Then something prompted me to test its
edge with the toe of my shoe. Then, making quite
sure that the street was e.npty, I stooped down and
dutched at the edge of the iron disk. It was quite
heavy. But one tug at it showed me that its lock-
chain had been forced apart.

It took but a moment to lift the metal shield to one
side of the chute-head. It took but another moment
to tower myself into the chute itself. I could see that
it was a somewhat ignominious beginning. But I felt
buoyantly sure that I was on the right track It took
an effort to work the iron disk back over the opening
It also required many strange contortions of the body
to worm my way down into that narrow and dirty
tunnel '

My rather peremptory advent into tiie coal-bin
resulted m a startling amount of noise, noise enough
to wake the soundest of sleepers. So I croudied there
for several seconds, inhaling dust, and listening and

THE OX-BLOOD VASE

wondering whether or not the walls above me harbored
a caretaker. Then I took out the pocket searchlight,
ai^, with the pressure of a finger, directed my ray of
illuminati<Mi againct a wooden partiticm Insected by
a painted wooden door.

A distinct sense of disappointment swq>t throogh
me as I stooped down to examine tiiis door and
found that it had already been forced open. I knew,
however, that I was following in the footstqw of n^
more e3q>erienced predecessor. Then came a store-
room, and then a laundry-room, with another jimr
mied door at the head of the stairway leading to
the first floor.

Here I stood watting and listening for some time.
But still again nothing but darkness and siknoe and
that musty aroma peculiar to unocoqiied houses tur*
rounded me. I f dt more at home by tins time, and
was more leisurely in my survey of the passage up*
ward. I was, of course, confronted by notiiing nMM'e
disturbing tium ghost-like furniture covered w^ tick-
ing and crystal-hung chandeliers en-jased in diee8fr>
drt > I began to admire my friend the burglar's
Mas in choosing so circuitous and yet so pro-
t J a path. Thore was akm)6t genius in it His
aavance, I felt sure, was toward the roof. As I had
expected, I found the scuttle open. The lock, I cookl
see, had been quite cleverly pidced. And* ao far, Hxn
had not been a mishap^

Once out on the housetop, however, I foRttw tint
I would have lo be more careful. As I damlierad up
to tiie UUher ooping-tilea tiiat a uu to d tlw Hot of

40 THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

the next roof, I knew that I had actually broken into
the enemy's Unes. Yet the way stiU seemed clear
enough. For, as I came to the roof-scuttle of the
second house I found that it, too, remained unlocked.
My predecessor had made things almost disappointingly
easy for me. Yet, in another way. he had left things
doubly dangerous. I had to bear the brunt of any
nus-step he may have made. I was being called to
face the responsibiUty of both his intrusion and my
own. ^

So it was with infinite precaution that I Hfted the
scuttle and leaned over that little weU of darkness,
inhahng the warmer air that seeped up in my face.
With It came an odor quite different to that of the
house I had just left There was somethmg cxposi-
tory m it, something more vital and electric, eloquent
of a place inhabited, of human beings and their lairs
and trails, of movement and life and vaguely defined
menaces. It was, I fanded, a good deal like that man-
^eU which comes down-wmd to a stalked and wary

I stepped down on the iron ladder that led into

flie uncertain darkness, covering the trap after me I
began to feel, as I groped my way downward, that
the whole thing was becoming more than a game I
was disturbed by the thought of how deep I had ven-
tured into an uncertainty. I began to be oppressed
by the thought of how complicated my path was prov-
ing. I felt intimidated by the undetermined intri-
caaes that stiU awaited me. A new anxiety was takin«
possession of me, a sort of tew fever of fear, an in-

THE OX-BLOOD VASE

4«

creasing impatience to rei^ce n^ precious porcdain,
end my mission, and make my escape to the open.

It began to dawn on me, as I groped lower and
lower down through the daticness, that a burglar's
calling was not all beer and skittles. I began to fed s
little ashamed of n^ heroics of an hour before.

Then I drew up^ suddenly, for a sound had crq>t to
my ears. The tingle that ran through my body was
not wholly one of fright Yet, as I stood there in
the darkness with one hand against tiie wall, I caught
the rhythm of a slow and muffled snoring. There was
something oddly reassuring in that reiterated yibra^
tion, even though it served to emphasize tiie dangers
that surrounded me. It was not unlike the sound of
a bell-buoy floating up to a fog-wrapped liner's bridge.

I was no kxiger a prey to any feeling of hesitancy.
I was already too deep in the woods to think of turn-
ing bade. My one passion now was to complete the
drcuit, to emerge <mi the other side.

I began to wonder, as I felt for the stair banister
and groped my cautious way down the treads, just
how the burglar himself had effected that final exit
from the house. And the sooner I got away £rom the
sleefMug quarters, I felt, the safer I wouM be. Every
bedroom was a shoal of dangers, and m^ all of them,
I very wdl knew, would be equipped with the same
gen«xms whistiing-buoy as that I had just left be-
hind rat. There was, too, sometiiing satisfying in the
knowledge that I was at least getting nearer and
nearer the ground-floor. This wcs due, not so mudi
to tiie fact that I was approadiing a part of the house

43 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

with which I was more or less familiar, but more u*
the fact that my descent marked an approach to some
possible pathway of escape. For that idea was now
uppermost m my mind, and no aviator with a balky
motor ever ached to get Uck to earth more eagerly
than L -~o /

The utter darkness and silence of the lower halls
were beginning to get on my nerves. I was glad to feel
the newel-post, which assured me that I had reached the
last step in my descent I was relieved to be able to
turn carefully and silently about to the left, to grope
toward a door which I knew stood before me in the
gloom, and then cautiously to turn the knob and step
mside. *^

I knew at once, even before I took the flashlight
from my pocket, that I was in the library. And the
room that opened off this. I remembered, half cabinet-
lined study and half informal exhibition-room, was
the chamber wherein Anthony Gubtill treasured his
ainos It would take but a minute or two, I knew,
to replace his priceless little porcelain. And another
mmute or two, I felt, ought to see me safely out and
on my way home.

I stood with my back to the door, determined that
no untimely blunder should mar the end of my ad-
venture^ My first precaution was to thrust out my
flashlight and make sure of my path. I let the incai^
descent ray finger interrogatively about the massively
furnished room, resting for a moment on marble and
metel and g^ass-fronted book-shelf. I remembered,
with almost a smile of satisfaction, the Utde ClytU

THE OX-BLOOD VASE

above the fireplace, and the HeU in bronze that stood
beside the heavy reading-lamp. This lamp, GubtiU
had oQce told me, had come from Munich; and I
remembered his chuckle over the fact that it had come
in a "sleeper" trunk and had evaded duty.

Then I let the wavering light travel toward the
end of the glimmering and dark-wooded reading-table.
I stood there, picking out remembered object after ob-
ject, remarking them with singular detadiment of mind
as my light contmued to circle the end of the room.

Then I quietly made my way to the open door in
the rear, and bisecting that second room with my
spear of light, satisfied myself that the space between
the peach-bloom amphora and the ashes-of-roses Yang
Lao with the ivory base was indeed empty.

I stood listening to the exotic tick of a brazen-dialed
Roumanian clock. I Kngercd there, letting my bald
light-shaft root like a hog's-snout along that shelf so
o-owded with delicate tones and contours. I sighed a
little enviously as I turned toward the other end of
the room.

Then, of a sudden, I stopped breathing. Auto-
matically I let my thumb lift from the current-spring
of my storage-lamp and the light at once went out
I stood there with every nerve of my body on tA^
I crouched forward, tingling and peering into tiie
darkness before me. For I had suddenly discovered
that I was not akme in the room.

Ther^ facing me, picked out as distinctly as a baiy
spot-Ught picks out an actor's face, I had seen tfie
owner of the house himself, not ten paces ftom sk;

HHillMIMiB

44 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

He wa« sittiiig in a high-backed armchair of green
w«ther. He must have been watching me from the
first, every moment and every movement He had

niade no effort to intemqrt or intercept me. He had
been too sure of his positioa

I waited for what seemed an mtermuiable length of
tome. But not a sound, beyond the querulous tide of
the clock, came to my ears. Not even a movement
took place in the darkness.

The undefined menace of this silence was too much
for me. The whole thing grew into something
strangely like a nightmare. I moved away, involun-
tonly, wondering what I should say, and after what
fashion I should begin my fodish expUmation. I
crouched low and backed off obliquely, as though some
value lay in the intervention of space, and as though
«Mncthmg venomous were confronting me; I feU
dowly back, pawing frenziedly about me for some sus-
tommg tangibility to which to cling. As I did so my
body came in contact with some article of fiamiture—
just what I could not tcU. But I shied away from
It m a panic, as a colt shies at a fallen newspaper.

My sudden movement threw over a second piece
of furmture. It must have leen some sort of col-
hpsihlt screen, for it fell to the floor with an echoing
oash. I waited, holding my breath, with horripila-
tions of fear ncttUng every limb of my body, knowing
only too weU that this must indeed mark the end.

But there was no movement, no word spoken, no
slightest sound I stared through the darkness, stiQ
half expectant I tried to tell myself that it may have

THE OX-BLOOD VASE

. tint ei^eeUitt ai t iBtioB had
projected into toy Une of tj^oo a purdjr imegiiiafy
figam I ttin waited, w^ nijr hewt poand&«L Then
the taniion became mora than I could cndora. I ao-
tually crept forwafd a step or two^ itffl pecriBf h&Mfy
throm^ the dariaiees» stm listenhif and wahmg;

Then I caughl way breath with sodden new sot-
picion, widi a qnidc fear Oat cruhed» boQel-like^
through the fihn of consdonsness. It was followed br

to--« *
pilJfH"

cal

I once mora raised the flash^gfat This time 07
hand shooic perceptifaijr as I turned the electric ny
directly m front of me. I let the mhwte dide of il-
lumination arrow throqgh d»e daifcness* direct to the
whte fue that seemed to be awaith« it Then I
let it come to a rast

IreBwaherfalfinfbndcasteportwo. Ina^hifv
caned out, but of that I am not sure. Yet of oat
thfflg I was onljr too certam. Thera bef ora me sat
Anthony GiditilL He wu quit* dead.

My first feefing was not altogether one of tairar.
It was accompanied by a soige of faidigmtion at Hm
mjustice, at the brulafity, of it aE I was able to
make note of the quilted dfesshig^fown that covered
the nbxed body. I was collected enough to assume
that he had orerbeard the intrtider; had come to hi-
vest^iate, and had been struck down and cnmdngly
thrust into a chair. This hiference was foOowed by
a fiaah of exultation as I remembered that his mur-
derer was known, that the crime could easily be ptoved

46 THE MAN WHO CX)ULDNT SLEEP

■giiiHt him, dMt even at the pnesent rooineiit he was
•afe in Beneoo'e embody,

I moved towrd the dmd man, fortified by the
fawwiedge of avert new oMigatioo. It was only after
I had examhied the iace for a Mcond time and teen
how death had been caused by a cnaeily heavy blow»
dealt by some bltmt instrument* that Ae enormity of

my own intnision mto that house of horror came home
to me. I felt a sudden need for light, for soberiiw
and rBtionaUzinir hf ht Even the tiddn^ from tiie
brazen-faced clock had become something pt»««#..»|,|
and unnenring;

I groped leverisUy and Uindly about in search of
•ndectric switch-button. Then, of a sudden. I stopped
•gam, my movement arrested by a sound

I knew, as I stood and listened, that it was only the
purr of an automobile, faint and muflkd from the

^outside. But it suddenly brought home to me
tte awkwardness of my powtion. To be found m that
house, or even to be seen leaving it. was no longer a
desirable thing. My foolhardy caprice, before an ae-
tuah^ so overawing, dwindled mto somethmg worse
than absurdity. And thought came hade at a bound
to the porcelain m my pocket I recaUed the oM-timc
nvahy between tfie dead man and myself for The
FTwne. I recaUed the details of my advent between
tiK)ee walls where I stood. And my blood wept cold.
It was not a matter of awkwardness; it was a matter
of peril For wh<^ I agam asked myself, wodd be-
lieve a story so absurd, or accept an excuse so extrava-
gant?

THE 0}C4nX)0D VASE

The doek tidnd on aecnifawfy; Tbt Mmid of tlw
antoaobae Stopped. I had juat aotod this with nUcf
when the thud of a qoictijr doaed door leU on mf
•tankdean. Then came the mtmnur of vokea. There
was no iooger any doubt about the matter. A motor
had come to the door, and from it certain persons had
ciUered the house.

Icrepttotiiefifaimtyandliatcaed. Then I t^itoed
back and dosed the door of the hmer toom. I fdt
more secure with even a half-inch pand between me;
and what that inner room hdd.

Then I listened. I begin to hear the padded tread
of feet Then came the sound of another opened door,
and then the snap of a lii^-switcfa. There was noth-
hig secret about the new imraskm. I knew, as I shrank
back behind one of the high-backed Ubraiy chairs, that
the front of tiie house was already iHuminatcd.

Then came the sound of a caUmg voices 9ppu*atfy
from die head of the stairs. It was a cautious and
carefuHy moduhited voice; I to6k it for that of a young
man of about twenty.

**!« that you, Caddyr

Then came a silence.

'1 say, is that you, Orrie r was demanded m a some*
what somnoleat 8tage>whi»r'Cr, There was so uiet M^
strangely reaasuring m that comnRx^laceboykh voice
Anthony Gt^'fi, I knew, fmd no itHiM t >4 Jtrtff haafy. I
vagudy recalled, however, some talc of a Canadian
nephew and nieee who had at times visited him.

"Sb— •— ehr saul a woman's vdce from the tower
!ia£l <l>ont wake Uttde Anthony."

4S THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

It mntt h&ve bam a yomg womaa. Her voice

•ounded ptMhe^ Ilia that of a girt who miflit be com-
tnf home tired from « dance at Shm/i. fYet,know-
ing what I did, its girUih wcariaett took oa a oatboe
indeicribabiy potgrntnt.

"Iff aa awful hour, isn't it? ' aaiced a Mcond men's
voice from the lower hall. There were sounds that
•eemed to imply that wmps were being removed.

"Ahnost four," came the at sv.er from above. "Had
» good time; CaMyr

I heard a stifled yawn.

"Rather/' aoswered the girf s voice

"I say, Orrie^ bring up tfaoee Igyptkm gaspers for
« puff or two, will your requested the youth from

above^ still in a stage-ndusper. "An4 Caddy, be sure
the latdi is oil"

"On vdiatr deman^d Orrie.

"^ door, joa Mfiotr was the sleepily good-natured
retort.

Then I wddcnly ducked low behind my diair4ack,
for the young man caUed Orrie had iimg open the
Kbrarydoor. He came into the room grof»ag]y, with-
out switehjrig on the electrics. I co^ see his trim
young shoulders, and the white Uur of his tUrt>f ront
Behind him, framed in the doorway, stood a young
girt of about twenty, a blonde in p^ btoe, wi A bare
arms and bare shoulders. Her dm looked very soft
and baby-iaee in the strong »dd%fat I coukf not re-
press something that was afanost a shodder itf ^
bought of this careless gaiety and youA so close m
the grim tragedy behind me, so unconsckwe of the

THE OX-BLOOD \ ASE 49

a in i i i nii if tint nag^ eomn to ti^on i^ aJmoirt t^ny

'*D0 hanyr mM the t red girl, m the jomg mm
about the tabte-cnd. I reiUiied, as I peeped
out at htr, that my fim duty wouW be t. keep those
found young eyes from what ^0xt confnmt them in
tlttt iniwr room.

**Vvt got 'c iif an wefed '^t mmL He Hood a
momeiit widKHit movfcg T^ he ti'^ sd md waUced
out of the room, quietly ck»if he r beh' id him.

I oiatted a g-«^>p of reliei a ,p ** more.

Nothii^ aTi ve nr >ad, I 'etenr. - sr oold i v keep
me in tl-^ housR Yet for Hth new-bom ecsitasy of
impatte^ce, I ««• sdfl nipclled to wait, for I could
he^" the oecasi^iaai soi of feet and a whisper or two
imm behind the dos» 1 door. Then all sound died
away the Hoom and sricnce again engulfed me;

I took tr Yai^ L-. porcelain from my pocket, un-

wr^ifedit.and T^. iJct^theimierroom. Igroped

along the wan it the darkn >s, circling wide about the

gre^4eather chair i the center. I put the rase back

on it-^ cabinet, without so much as flashing my light

rten I arc ed back along the wall, felt for the library

ioor, atid g )ped cautiously across the perilous breadth

f the tiinjitur --crowded diamber. It tcok me several

seco ds to fine he door that opened into the ludlway.

Once through uu across the hall, I knew, only a

spring-latch stood between me and the street So I

turned the knob quickly and swm^ back the door.

But I did not pass through it For, instead of dark-
ness, I found mysdf confronted fay a blaze of I^fat

so THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

In that Maze of Kght stood three waiting and e3q)ectaitt
figures. What most disturbed me was the fact that
the man called Orrie held in his hand a revolver that
seemed the size of a toy-cannon. This was leveled
directly at my blinking eyes. The other youth, in
cerise pajamas with orange colored frogs and a dress-
ing-gown tied at the waist with a silk girdle, stood just
behind him, holding an extremely wicked-lookmg Sav-
age of the magazine make. Behind this youth again,
close by the newel-post, stood the girl in blue^ aU the
sleepiness gone out of her face.

The sight of that wide-eyed and eager trio irritated
me beyond words. There was no longer any thriU m
the thing. I had gone through too much ; I could not
react to this newer emergency. I kept wondering if
the idiot with the Colt realized just how delicate a
pressure would operate the trigger on which I could
see his finger shaking. But that shake, it was plain,
was more from excitement than fear.

*'WeVe got himl" cried the youth in the cerise
pajamas. I might have been a somewhat obstinate
black bass wheedled into his ianding^et, from the way
hespdce.

"Don't moveP' commanded the older of the two^
wrinkling his brow mto a frown of youthful determina-
tion. 'Don't you dare move one inch, or Ffl pot a
hole throuj^ you.**

I had no intenticm of <iKyvtng.

"Watch his hands," prompted the younger man.
"He ought to put 'em upt"

"Yes, Orrie, he ought to put them i^,** echoed Ae

THE OX-BLOOD VAtSE

girl by the ncwd-post She reminded meb with her
delicate whites and pinks and Uues, of the cabinet of
porcelain at which I had so recently stared.

"Back up through the door," cried Orrie. "Come
on— back upr

I wearily obqred this somewhat equine order. Then
he commanded me to hold my hands above my head.
I did so without hesitation; I had no wish to argue
while that Colt was staring me in the eyes.

They followed me, Indian file, into the room. It
was the girl who closed the door as Orrie switched
on the lights. She stood with her back to it, studying
my face. I could see that I rather interested them all
But in that interest i detected no touch of either friend-
liness or respect The only one I seemed to mystify
was the girl at the door.

"Have you anything to sayf' demanded Orrie^
squaring his shoulders.

"Yes, I have a great deal to say," I toM hhn. •'But
I prefer sayii^ it to you atone."
I could see his movement of disdain.
"WiU you listen to thatP commented the youth In
Uie cerise pajamas.

"And if you will be so good as to stop poking &at
pistol in my face," I continued with some heat, "and
then send these children out of the room, I shaO mw
what I have to, and do it very briellyr

"CWIdrenl" came in an ind^naol gasp from tiie
giri at the door.

"We'B t^k by you, (^ aaei,** ^^ed die youth-
fill hero fa ceffte^ wfth 1^ iMiit w«0 i9Wt

Sa THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

"And just why should I closet myself with a bur-
Jlar?" inquired the astute Orrie, staring at me with the
utmost insolence. Yet I could see that at least the
precision of my articulation wfs puzzling him a bit.

"Thaf 8 asinine," I retorted. "I'm not a burglar,
and you ought to know it"

To my astonishment, a littie tripartite ripple of
laughter greeted this statement.

"Then what are you?" asked the incredulous Orrie.

I knew there was no further use beating about the
bush.

"Yes, who are you?" demanded the other youth.

He still held the magazine-revolver balanced in his
right hand. The truth had to come out

"I'm Witter Kerfoot" I told them, as steadily as I
could. "Kerfoot, of Gramercy PSark West"

**What number?*'

I gave him the number. I could see the trio ex-
change glances; they were plainly glances of amuse-
ment My young friends, I could see, were enjoying
a home melodrama, a mdodrama in which I was ob-
viously the most foolish of vilUins. I began to feel
a good deal like a phonograph grinding out a comic
record.

"And with that face!" ejaculated the man called
Orrie.

The quiet contempt of his glance caused me to shift
about, 10 I ooold catch a gKmpM of myself in the
Venetian mirror between the book-shelves. That
^mpte WIS indeed a startHi^ one. I had quite for^
gotten tfie transit through die coal-hole. I couM not

THE OX-BLOOD VASE

even remembei how or when I broke my hat-ctown.
I had remained as unconscious of the scratch across

my cheek as I was of the garret cobwebs that festooned
myctething. I saw as I peeped into the mirror only
a sickly-hued and grimy-looking footpad with dirty
hands and a broken hat It was no wonder they
laughed. My environment for the kst hour had not
been one that tended toward consciousness of attire;
I was about to remove my disgracefully disfiguring
headgear when the younger man swung about on me
with tlie Savage thrust point-bUuik in my face.

"Don't try any of that !" he gisptd. **You keep up
those hands."

The whole situation was so beside the marie» was
so divorced from the sterner problem confronting both
them and myself, that it dispirited and angerad me.

**We*vc had about cnoogh of tiiis tommy-fot!" I

**Yes, weH cut out the tommy-ro^ and get hhn
tied,** prodahned the man with die Colt
**Then teuth him fint." pron^ted the ymmg nan.

"Here. CaAfy, lake Orrie's Grft while he goes through
hba," he co mnnnded . hi the clicst-toacs ol a newly,
•cqoifed savagery, "and if he tries to move, vrioff
himf*

The girl, wide-eyed and reluctant, took the heavy
«^w^iw. Tta Orrie advanced on me. thm^ hi an
alNrtiier -. and tight^^ped maimer. To ceo-
warn wj prv a, I saw. woidd be oidy to waite my

hemOL There was ne^ig to do b^ ^n^ to th«
raroe.

54 THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

1 J=i

I said nothing as he produced the telltale flashligfiit
I also renuuned silent as he tritimphantly tmearthed
the jimn^ and the damnatory dceletcMi keys. I could
see the interchange of exultant glances as these were
tossed out on the polished taUe-top.

"Get the straps from the golf bags !" suggested the
youth with the Savage. I could not hdp remember-
ing how this scene was paralleling another of the same
nature and the same night, whoi Benson and I had
been the masters of the situaticm.

The man called Orrie seemed a little nonplussed at
the fact that he had found no valuables in my outer
podcets, but he did not give up. He grimly ignored
n^ protests as he explored still deeper and dt^ out
my mcmogramed wallet, and then a gold dgarette-case,
on which toy name was duly inscribed. He turned
them over in his hand a couple of times and examined
them carefully. Then a great lig^t seemed to come to
him. He succumbed, as even his elders have done, to
a sudden sense of drama.

I saw him dart to tiie outer room and catch up a
telephone directory. He riffled throu|^ the pages with
quidc and inpatient fingers. Then he strode bi^ and
located me up and down.

"I know what this man's don^" he cried, hit eyes
iligfat with conviction.

"What?" donaiMted the younger man.

"He's visited toon than this house toHiigfat He's
gone through Witter Kerfoot's, as well. He's taken
tii«ie tMngs f n»n there And now ifsuptoutto takt
him hack with tkemr

THE OX-BLOOD VASE 55

' I could see the sheer theatricality of the situation
clutch at his two listeners. I could see them surmider
to It, although the girl stiU seemed to hesitate.

"Hadn't I better caU Uncle Anthony?" she sug-
gKted.

At one breath her words brought me back to both
the tragedy that lay so close at hand, and the perilous
con^lexity of my own position.

"No, that's foolish I" cut in Orrie "The car's stiU
outside. Caddy, I think you'U have to com* along.
You can sit with Jansen on the driving-seat"

The hero of the maneuver turned back to me. I
was thinking mostly of the soft-eyed giri with the
baby-white skin, and how I couM get her safely away.

"WiU you come quietly?" my captor demanded of
me.

**Yes," I answered, without k)oking up^ "I'll come
quietly."

It was the girl's vofce, a little shrill with excitement,
that next broke the silence.

"Orrie, he's not a bur^T' she cried out, in her
treble-noted conviction.

"Then what is her

"He's a gentleman."

"What makes you think so?" demanded the indif-
ferent Orrie as he moCkmed me^ with a curt mofe-
raent of his Cblt-barrd, toward the hall door.

"I know by his nailsf was her inconsequential yet
fpAt ddbiiterqrfy.

Onh laughed.

Thaa you'd give tea and macarooot to every bww

S6 THE MAN WHO COULD.^'T SLEEP

glarious barber out of Sing Sing," he scoffed. "And
oar real answer's waiting for us in Gramercy Square."

It seemed to take but a minute or two in the car
to swing us from Twelfth Street up to Twentieth,
and then eastward into the stillness of the square.
My captors had insisted that I should not talk. "Not
a word!" commanded Orrie, and I could fed his in-
solent gun-barrel against nty ribs as he gave the com-
mand for the second time. They were drunk, I could
see, with the intoxication of their exploit They were
preoccupied with inhaling their subde sense of drama.
With the dictatorial self-sufficiency of true inebriety
they had enjoined me from every effort at explana-
tion. The bubUe, they felt, was far too pretty a one
to be pricked.

Thty alighted, one in front of me and one bdiind
me, still carrying their foolish and murderous-looking
firearms. The girl remained in her seat Then the
three of us grimly ascended my steps.

"It's needless to ring the bell," I we»ay i^rpi^Sii4
"My pass-key will admit you."

"But I insist on ringing," said Orrie as I fitted the
key to the lock.

"I shall be compelled, in that case, to call the officer
who is watching us from the comer,** was my ^et
ivsponse.

"Call and be hanged, thenf was the younger mmii
uramatum.

One word over their shoulders broioght my

frieid McCoo^, the pa^rdman, across the coma-

up the steps. I symmg open the door as he jofawd us.

THE OX-BLOOD VASE 57

Then I tttrned on the faaU lamps and faced m two
capton. ^'

"Oflicer, I want you to look at me very carefully,
and then assure these gendemen I am Witter Kerfoot,
the owner and occupant of this house."

"Sure he's Kerfoot," said the unperturbed McCoo^.
But what's the throuMe this time?"

"Something more serious than these gentlemen
dream of. But if the three of us will go quietly up-
stairs, youTl find my man Benson there. You'U also
find another man, tied up with half a doren— "

McCooey, from the doorway, cut me short

I'm sorry, sir, but I can't be stayin' to see your
joke out." ^

"But you've got to."

"Fact is, sir." he explained, in a lowered voice.

Creegan, av Headquarthers, has a Sing-Sing lifer

bottled up in this Wock. and I'm holdin' wan end ar

f.-5'^ ^^^"^ jail-breaker, sir, and « tridy wan,
called Pip Foreman, the RatP' ^ -^

'The Rat?" I echoed.

"The same, sir. But I must be off."

"Don't go," I said, closing the door. "Your ma^s
up-stairs, vrnHng for yout"

"Waitin' for me?" he demanded. ''What man?"
"The °»n they can the Rat," I tried to explain ta
ten. And TB be gw^ oh%^ to yoB. McCooev
If youTl make as short woric of thii iitaiiion „ Jo

*^i^*^ °' ***««**«• ^ I ^«J «*ber tinrf.
^^ tee* five or sk boon of good JwMrt ileep

CHAPTER in

THS SIOULS WHSBL-COOB

T WAS in for a night of it I realiied that as I
A lay bock in my big green library-duir and closed
my eyet. For somewhere just in front of those tightly
closed lids of mine I could still see a briskly revolving
sort of pin-whed, glowing like a milk-white orange
against a murky violet fog that paled and darkened
with every beat of my pulse.

I knew the symptoms only two welL The entire
encanqmient of Consciousness was feverishfy awake»
was alert, was on the qm<we. That pulsuig^ white
pin-whed was purdy a personal matter between me
and my imagination. It was something distinctly my
own. It was Me. And bdng essentially subjective,
it couhl be ndther banished nor controlled.

So I dedded to make for die open. To think of a
four-poster, in any such era of intensified wakefubess,
would be a mockery. Far I was the arena of that
morbid wakefuhiess which brought with it an over-
crowded mental consdousness of existence far beyond
my own physical vision, as though I had been appointed
night-watchman for the whole round workl, with a
seardiing eye on all its multitudinous activities and
aberrations. I seemed aUe to catch its breathing as
it slept ha cosmic sleeps I seemed to brood wi^ luntf
akmfeess above its teeming j^ins, dq»Ftt^ by its
eamnKnis dimensions, confused l^ its iaoonmrdwii-

THE STOLEN WHEEL<X)DE 59

•ibie tangle fead clutter of critMvoM deMinies. Itt
uncountable midnight voices teemed to merge into a
vague ajgh, to pensively remote, so miexpte ss& ly
tragic that ykhm I stood in my doorway and caught
the sound of a harebrained young Romeo go wMstliog
down past the Hayers' Qub his shriU re-piping of a
Broadway xoof-song seemed more than dkoordant; it
seemed desecration. The fool was happy, when the
whole world was sitting with its fists dendied, await-
ixig some widefined doom.

It was Inng past midnight, I remenOiered as I dosed
the door. For it must have been an hour and moia
•ince I had looked out and seen the twelve mfay
flashes from the topmost peak of the MetropoUtan
Tower signaling its dotorous message that another
dayhadgone. I had watched those twelve winks with
a shddng heart, finding somethmg saidonic hi their
brisk levity, for I had been remnided by a tdltale neu-
rasthenic twitdung of my r^ cydld that some ngfing
Satan known as Insomnia was once more tuggfaif^ and
jerkmg at my soul, as a fly^iocik tuga and jerks at a
trout's mouth.

1 knew, even as I wandered drearily off inm mf
house-door and paced as drearily roond and rowid Hm
iron-fence park endosnre, that I was destined for
another sleepless n^^ And I had no hitemfon of
paasing it cooped 19 between four walls. Ihndtried
that before, and in tiiat way, I rtmmj b ei e d, andnesi
Uy.

Sol wandered renlessiy on tlavN^ tfii JlfirrHJ
streets, with no aethre tho^ of * ift"Bi if t n aai m

60 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

imm ed i at e sense of direction. AU I remembered was
that tlie dty lay about me, batized in a night of ex-
ceptional mildness, a night that should have left it
beautiful But it lay about me, in its stilhiess, as dead
and flat and stale as a tumbler of tepid wine.

I flung myself wearily down on a bench in Madison
Square, facing the slowly spurting fountain that had so
often seemed to me a sort of visible pulse of the skep-
hig dty. I sat peering idly up at tiie Flatiron Build-
ing, where like an eternal plowshare it tiirew its eternal
cross furrows of Fifth Avenue and Broadway along
tiie dt/s tangled stubbk of steel and stone. Then I
peered at the sleepers all about me, the happy sleepers
huddled and qirawled along tiie park benches. I en-
vied them, every mortal of that ragged and homeless
army! I ahnost hated them. For they were drinking
deep of the one tiling I had been denied.

As I kxinged tiiere with my hat pulled down over
my eyes, I listened to tiie soothing purr and si^sh of
tiie ever-pulsing fountain. Then I let my gaze wander
disconsohtdy southward, out past the bronze statue of
Seward. I watched the driver of a Twenty-third
Street taxkab of tiie "night-hawk" variety asleep on
his seat He sat there in his faded hat and coat, as
motionless as metal, as though he had loomed there
through all the ages, like a brazen statue of Slumber
under his mellowing patina of time.

Then, as I gazed idly northward, I suddenly forgot
tiie fountain and the night-hawk chauffeur and the
sleepers. For out of Fifth Avenue, past where tiie
doidite row of dectric globes swung down the

THE STOLEN WHEEL-CODE

gentle slope of Murray HiU like a doable pctri-itraad
down a woman's brout, I caught tiglit of a figura
turning quietly into the quietness of the squan. It
attracted and held my eye because it seemed the only
movement in that place of utter stiUness, where even
the verdigris-tinted trees stood as motionless as though
they had been cut from plates of copper.

I watched tiie figure as it drew nearer and nearer.
The lon^ mididght seemed to convert die casual
stroller into an emissary of mystery, into something
compelling and momentous. I sat indolently back on
my park bench, peering at 1^ as he drifted hi under
the milk-white arc lai^s whoie scattered gfobes wen
so l&e a scurry of bubbles caught in the ti«e branches.

I watched the stranger as dosdy as a traveler hi mid-
ocean watches the approach of a londy sleamer. I
did not move as he stood for a moment beside the
fountain. I gave no ngn of life as he looked sbwly
about, hesitated, and Aen crossed over to the end of
the very bench on whidi I sat There was someUiing
military-like about the sUm young figure in its un-
timely and uicongruous cape overcoat Thei« was also
somediing alert and guardedly observant in the man's
movements as he settled hknsdf bade in the bench. He
sat there fisCening to the purr and splash of ^ water.
Then, in an incredibly short space of tioM^ he was
last adeqK

I still sat beside him. I was still t<fiy pooderhy who
and what the newcomer could be, when anoAer move-
ment attracted my attention. It was tiie akaoet silent
^iproadi^ a second and Uuger ^^ire, the figure <rf

6a THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

a wide-timsiderBd nmi in navy blue ttrgi^ ptitinf
qnieUjr in between the double ltn« of bench tteepen.
He drded onoe about the greiuu-lawled rfaif of the
fountain. Hien he dropped diffident^ faito the eeiift
next to the man in the cape ovucoat, not fivt leet
from where I sat

Somethmg about Um, from the moment he took up
that position, challenged nqr attention. I watched him
from mider my hat-brim as he looked gmidtdfy about
I did not move as he let hit oovert ^is dwell for a
moment or two on my kNuming figure. I still watched
hhn as he bent forward and listened to the deep
breathing ol the man so dose be^de Un.

Then I saw a hand creep om from hit ddc; Thero
was something qnkk and reptilkMS m its mo v ements.
I saw it fed and pad about the sleeping man's breast
Then I saw it slip^ snahe^iaBe, k nnder Urn doth of
the coat

It moved about there* for a second or two^ as though
busily expkning the recess of every possible pocket

Then I saw the stealthy hand qoietly but quickly
withdrawn. As it came away it b r w^ j fat witii k a
packet that fladied white in die kunpligfat pialnly a
packet of papers. This was thrust httrriedly down hito
the coat pod^r.t of the newcomer next to me. There
was not a sound. There was no more movement

The wide-shouldered man sat tiwre for what must
have been a full minute of time. Then he rote quietly
to his feet and started as qoietly away.

It wasn't until then that the fidl reaBty of wfet he
had done came home to me. He had d^Mrate|y

THE STOLEN WHEEL<X>DE

robbed a il w plny and unpfotectod nto. H« wit at
that momnt actoally carrjnf away the ipoilt of Mnt
predetenniiiid and aodacioiif theft And I had nfe
cafanly and unp to tertlm ly hf and watched a thief,
a profesiioaal "dip^" enact a crime under mjr veof
eyes, wftfab five feet of mel

In three qnkk ttepe i had croe e id to tiie ile^inr
man's tide and wae ihakhif him. I etfll kept nqr cyea
on die tlowty retmtinff figure of the thief at he made
his apparently diffident wayt^ through tfie ftqtsare. I
had often heard of those street har^ known as
"hish-dips,* those professional picfcpodcets who prey
on the wiqr^de inebriate Bot nefer befbee had I
seen one at work.

"Qnickt Wakenpricried,wkhatepcnttihdH
at the sleeper's dionlder. '^/ou've been robhedr

The next move of that fittir .,\M^ A ana was
an u ne xp ec t e d and startltnf k-.z. { n lead of being
confronted by the disputatkNis i.:r,ir.!(iei i^gs of a half-
wakcBid sleeper, as I expected. I ^-t; suddnly and
firmly caqgfat by the arm and jeiked bodily into tlMi
scat beside him.

Ton've been fdbbed r I repeated, as T felt that firm
grip hatu me seatwrd.

"Shut iq»r said a cafan and very wMe-awdee voices
quite dose to nqr ear. I struggled to tear my ana
away from the hand that still chmg to it

**Butyoo'vebeenn>ftft«fn expcetBhit ed. Ifiocieift
Oiat Us own gaie was already dhmled nerfhwE. 4 to-
ward where Ae Une-dad figure stni aaoved iliiihull
on under ^ arc krnipa.

lirtk

II iiiiii niliiir Kfi

64 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

"How do you know thttr be demtnled. I waa
•truck ty hit i^otate and rather authoritative vofc^

"Why, I saw it with my own ^yesk And there coes
the man who did iti" I tdd hin^ pointing northward.

He jerked down my hand and twung around on me

nVatchthatmanrhesak^ateiortfiereely. "But
for heaven'* sake kegp sHlir

^Vhat does this mean?" I natoraHly dmanded.

He swept me with <me quick glance; Yet he k>oked
more at my clothes. I fancy, than at my face. My
tailor seemed to be quite satisfactory to hhn.

"Who are your be asked. I took ny time in an-
swermg, for I was beginnii« to fesctt his repeated
note of superio.nty.

"My name, if that's what you me&n. M twns to be

Ae uneuphonious but highly wspectabie one of Ker-
foot— -Witter Kcrfoot."

"No, noi" he said with quick impatience. "tVkai
areyou?"

"I'm nothing much, except a r iber of a rather
respectable dub^ and a man who doesn't sleep overly

His eyes were still keenly watcUog the Oamfy de-
parting figure. My flippancy seemed to have been fcst

onhna His muscular young hand suddenly tightened
on ray sleeve.

•Jl^" ^, "^*"' ^ ^ "^ »*'" '•^ cried, under hi*
broidL "Yon must ! I've a right to can on you. as
a decent atixen, a»— "

"Who are you?" I interrupted, quite myseU by this

THE STOLEN WHEEL^ODE

'Tm Lieutenant Pafaner/' he abKntty admitted, alt
tlie while eying the moving figure.

"And I've got to get that man, or itH cost me a
court-martiaL I've j^o^ to get htm. Wait I Sit back
here without moving. Now watch iHut he doetf

I saw the thief drop into an empty bendi, stance
down at his time-pie^, look careles^ about, and then
lean bade with his 1^ croased. NoUiing more hap*
pened.

"Wen," I inquired, "whafs the garnet .

If s no game," he retorted, in his quick and decisive
tones. **l^B dsaana near a tragedy. But now I've
found him! Fve ^aced him I And thafs the nuui
I'm after!"

"I don't doubt it," I languidly admitted. "But
am I to assume that iMs little bendi scow was a sort
of, wdl, a sort of carefully studied out tnq>?"

"It was tiie only way I coukl clinch the thing," he
admitted.

"Qinch whatr I asked, consckMis of his hesitation.

"Oh, you've got to know," he finally conceded, "now
you've seen this much! And I know you're— you're
the riglit sort I can't tell you every^iiig. Bat Vm
off tht Comteetkitt. She's tiie flagship of our Atbntk
fleet's fbM division, the flag^ of Rear-Ackniral
^irodder. T was sent to confer with Admiral liaidoai.
the oommandant of the Navy Yard. Then I was to
conunu ni cate with Rear-Admiral KeUao', the si^er-
visor of Naval AuxiKaries. It was in cooneetion wi&
the navy's new Emergency Whed-Code. I cui't ex-
pbin it to you; there's a tot of navy-dipartiBSiit data

« THE MAN WHO OOULDNT SUEEP

Ican'tfoioKx But I wu ashore here in New York
with a Uit of the new wirelcM code ugnala."
"And jroa let them get awtyr

"Thett wai no letting about it They were stolen
from me, stolen in some mysterious way I can't under-
stand. I've only one chie. I'd dined at the PUa.
Then I'd gone to the ballroom and sat through the
amateur theatricals for the French HoapitaL I'd been
carrying the code forms and they'd been worrying me.
So I <s|dit the wheel,' as we say in the service I
mean Fd divided 'em and left one half locked up at
my hotel while I still carried the other half. Each
part, I knew, wouM be useless without the other. How
or when they got the half I was carrying I can't tell,
for the life of me. I remember dancing two or three
times m the ballroom after the theatricals. But it

couldn't l»pi been any of those women. Theyweren't
Ihatsert"

•Then who was itr For the first time a sense of
hU boyishness had crept over me.

"That's just it; I don't know. But I k^ feeling
that I was being shadowed, i was abnost posttive I
was being trailed. They wookl be after the second
half, I f^ So I mude a dmmsy, and toaf ed about
all day waiting for a $%p. I kept it up w«il t«Mii^t
Then, when I actually found I was bik^ follow*!,
eveiy move I made, I—"

His voice tB^d off and he cai;^ at ray arm again.

"See, he's on ^ move agaml He's gafay, this
time. And that's the mm\ I warn yon to h^ me
watch hia, waich every slep and trick. And M liM^a

THE STOEEN WHEEIXTODE

a Moofid man, I'm going to get 7011 to follow Una*
while I stick to this one. It's not altogether for mjr-
lelf, remember; it's more for the whole Servicer'

We were on our feet by this time, passing northwaixl
along the asphalted walks that wound in and out be-
tween the trees.

''You meftii this man's a sort of agent, a fonigtk
spy, after your naval secrets?" I asked, as we watched
the figure m Uue circle casually out toward Fifth
Avenue.

'That's what I'vvt got to find out AndFm^
do it, if I have to follow him to hell and badcf
the young officer's answer. Then he Mddenly drew
up, with a whispered warning.

"You'd better go west, towastf Broadway. Then
walk north into Fifth Avenue again, toward Triilaiiii'i
comer. I'll swing tq> Madnon Avenue ^a the
side of hinri, and waflc west on T wiaty -iia^
Don'^ speak to me as we paaa Wm waieh Ite, every
moment And if there's a aaeood naui, follow }Amf

A moment bter I was savBteringf westward lowai4
the old Holhnan House comer. As I apftfoadied the
avenue curb I saw the unpertmted figure in blue stop
beside tbt Farragut Mootanent on the northwest f rfage
of Madison Square. I saw him take out a dgar, riowly
and deliberaiify strike a match on the sloiieworic of
the exedra, and then as stowly and deliben^ely Ught
yscigw.

I felt, as I saw it, thi^ it was some sort of a signal
This suqHdon grew stronger, when, a mooMitt later,
I saw a woman step oat of a near-by doorwar. Sim

68 THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

wore a plumed Gainsborough hat and a cream-cotered
gown. Over her slender young shoulders, I further
made out, hung an opera cloak of delicate lacework

She stood for a moment at the carriage step, as
though awaiting a car or taxi. Then she quickly
crossed the avenue and, turning north, passed the wait-
ing man in blue. She passed him without a n>oken
w<mL

But as the cream-colored figure drifted nonchalanUy
by the broad-shouldered man I caught a fleeting
glimpse of something passing between them, a hint
of one hand catching a white packet from another. It
was a hint, and nothing more. But it was enough.

My first impulse, as I saw that movement, was to
circle quickly about and warn Pateier of what had
taken place. A moment's thought, however, showed
me the danger of this. And the young lieutenant, I
could see, had already changed his course, so that his
path southward through the center of the square
paralleled that of the other man now walking more
briskly along the avenue curb.

He had clearly stated that I was to watch any con-
federate. I had no intention to quibble over side-
issues. As I started northward, indeed, after that
mysterious figure in the Gainsborough hat and the
cream-colored gown, a most pleasuraUe and purpose-
ful tingle of excitement thrilled up and down my back-
bone.

I shadowed her as guardedly as I was able, follow-
ing her bkxk by block as she hurried up the empty
thoroughfare that was mow as quiet and lonely as a

THE STOLEN WHEEI^CODE

glacial moraine. My oat fear wa» that At would
reach the Waldorf, or some equally complex beehive
of human Ufe, before I could overtake her. Once
there, I knew, she would be as conqiktely k>st as a
needle in a haystack.

She nuy have suspected me t^ this time, I felt, for
twice I saw her look back over her shoulder.

Then I suddenly stq[>ped and ducked into a door-
way. For a moment after I saw a taxicab come clat-
tering into the avenue out of Thirty-third Street I dis-
covered that, at her rq>eated gesture, it was pullmg up
beside the curb.

I stood wen bade in the shadow until she had
climbed into the seat, the door had slammed shut, and
the driver had turned hia vehicle about and started
northward main. Then I darted along the shop fronts,
darted across the street, and made straight for the
hotel cabstand and a taxi driver drowsily exhaliim
cigarette nnoke up toward iht te{rid midnight skies.
The bin I thrust into his hand took all the sleep out
of his body and aided the iiKense to the mormng
stars.

njp tiie avenue," I said iu I clambered in. "And
foUow that taxicab two hhda behind until it turns, and
then run up on it and wait.**

It turned at Forty-second Street «id went eastward
to Lexington Avenue. Then, dot^og on its tracks,
it swung southward agam. We let it clatter on weB
ahead of us. But as it turmd suddenly westward, at
the comer of Twenty-ditrd Street, we broke the speed
laws to draw once more up to it. Then, as we crossed

70 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

Twenty-third Street, I toW the driver to lee^ on
•outhwaid toward GraraercySqiare. F^rThid rai^ht
«^t of the other taxi already drawn tq> at tlK emb
half-way between Lexkigton and Fourth Aveaaet.

A moment after we jobed across tlw car **w*n I
slipped away from my cab Md ran back to the croea-
street on foot As I reached the comer I cat^t sight
of a figitfe in a cream-cobred gown cross the sidewalk
and step quiddy into the doorway of a shabby foar-
atoned btiikUng.

I had no time to study this buiWing. It nugiit have
bim an antiquated residence turned into a chisler of
ar^'s studioa, or a third-rate domicile of third-rate
business firms. My one important discovery was that
the door opened as I turned the knob and that I was
able quietly ar.d quickly to step into the dark hallway.

I stood there in the gloom, listening intently. I
couW hear the light and hurried click of shoe heels
on the bare tread-boards of the stairs. I waited and
listened and carefully counted these clicks. I knew,
as I did so, that the woman had climbed to the top
ioor.

Then I beard the chink of metal, the sound of a key
thrust into m lock, and then the cautious closing of a
door. Then I found myself surrounded by nodiing
bat darkness and silence again.

Istood there in deep thought for a nUnute or two.
rain I groped my way cautiously to the foot of the
siaira, found the heavy oW-fashioned bahtitrade. and
Awly and silently climbed the stairway.

I did not stop until I found myself on the top foor

THE STOLEN WHEEIX:ODE

of that quiet and many-odored building. I patued
there, at a ftandatill, peeriaf through the darkness that
surrooi^id tm.

My seaseh was rewarded by the discovery of one
Ain strak of yellow lig^ a^ig what must have been
the LotfeHn of a closed door. Just beyond that door.
I f ^ ray ptn^t was to cc»ae to an eiuL

I gropad tmr way to the wall and tiptoed quietly for-
ward. When I came to the door, I let my hand dose
noiselessly about the knok Then, cuditoning it with
a firm gra^, I turned it dowly. inch by inch.

The door, I found, w» locked. But inside the
room I coukl still hear the occasional dick of shoe
heels and the indstemiinate noises of an ocoqMmt mov-
i^ quietly yet hmriedly about

I stood there, paczled, depressed by my first ftding
of frustration. Then I made out the vague oblong of
what must have been a window in the rear of a narrow
hall I tiptoed back to this wmdow, in the hope that
it might lead to something. I found, to miy disappoint-
ment, that it was barred with half-iadi mc rods. And
this meant a second defeat

As I tested these rods I came on one tfiat was not so
secure as the others. One quiet and steady wrench
brought an end-screw bodily out of the half-tottad
wood. Another patient twist or two entirely freed
theotlwr end.

I found mysdf armed with a four-foot bar, sharp-
ened wedge-l&e at each end for its screw head. So I
made tof way silently bade to the pencil of ydbw
Hdit and the locked door above it I stood tlmv

7a THE XAM ym& CX>ULDNT SLEEP

)>>teiiiiV for a miiMte or two. AH I could hnr was
*• "»°jff «* «»P water and tbe occaMocal nittUiig
^ap^. SoIqiiietljrforcedtlieedgtofiiiyKidia
■rtwew tbe door and itt jamb, and a« quietly levend'
the end eutward.

Somettoiff had to ghe under that strain. I was

wfuUy afraid that it would be the lock bu- ittdi

TWi I blew would go with a snap, and prompt^ be-

tray my movement But at I incrtaaed the pretttire I

cwdd see that it wat Ae iocket .crews that were dowly
yielding m the pinewood jamb.

I stopped and wailid for some ohBterating noise be-
fore ventnrmg the bit thrust that wouM send the
bolt free of the loo s fng sodnt It came with the
•udden sound of steps and the turning off of the run-
ning tap. The door had been forced open Md stood
an inch or two from Ae jamb before the stepe sounded

I waited, with my heart in my mouth, wonderii«
if anything had been overheard, if anything had been
discovered. It was only then, too, that the enormity
of toy offense came home to me. I was a house-
breaker. I was playing the part of a midntght bur-
glar, Iwasfadiqrasituatkwinwhkhlhadnoimme-
^te interest I was bemg confronted by perite I
had no means of comprehending. But I intendsd to
get inside that room, no matter what it cost

I heard, as I stood there, the sound of a drawer be-
mg opened aad closed. Then came a heef-cUck or
two on the wooden floor, and then an tmpi^ient and
quite audible sigh. There was no mistaking that

THE STOLEN WHEEL<X>DE

iiiii. It WM •§ fft%liMl with Uniaiai^ at tlm^
I had hmd a wonaa't vcrfet. And noOiBf was to
be gaimd Jy waitfaig. So I fint kaaed ay Iran nd
■ilmfy agatet the door ccmiar. Thai, tidtfa^ a daq^
bnath, I ntpptd quickly and w^atlkmfy into tfat

nlfllWU rftvtn

I Stood tfaotb dote bvide the partly ofMDcd <ioor,
bUnldnr a little at tba taddm glart of lifht Then
waa an appredahle interval before «e details of the
scene could register tiiSBisehrfls on my ndnd.

What I saw was a hu«e and piaialy fwiddied
room. Across one comer stood a rolltop dsA, and
from the top of this I cangltt the ffimmer of m tele-
phone transmitter. In the rsar watt stood two old-
fashioaed, low-silled whidowa. Against this watt, and
between these two windows* stood a hlacic iron safe.

Before the open door of this safe, widi her bwk
turned to me, was the woman in the cwa i xoi Biid

gown. It was quite ptem that she was not yet aware
of my presence.

She had dnown her hat and oqie artle, tud wm at
the moment ben^ng low over the daitc maw of the
opened sale, readriag baio its recesses w^ one white
and romided atm. I stood there wi^hhif her. won-
dering what move woold be most efeetim I made
no sound; of that I was certain. Yet some shcth sense
most have warned her of my presence. For without

rfa]mie or reason she soddsaljr stood emet, and swhir
ing abont in her traehs, coaf wmt s d me.

Her face, which had been a »tde ioshed from Hoop-
ing, went white. Sie stored at me widtoot spnidng.

74 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

her eyes wide with terrified wonder. I eould itt her
hpt ilowly part, at the diode of what she beheld btgm
to relax the jaw muscles along the oUve-white check.

I stared back at her with a singularly disengaged
mind. I felt, b fact, very much at my ease, very
much the master of the situation. As an opponent, I
couM see, she woukl be more than mysteriouiL She
wouM, m fact, be extremely interesting.

Her next move, howevw, threw a new complexion
on the situation. For she unexpectedly let her hand
dart out to the waM beside her, just l-hind the safe
to|x As she did so, I couW hear the snap of a switch
button; the next moment the Hght went out It left
the room in impenetrable darkness.

I stood there, unprepared for any offensive or de-
fmsive movement. Yet my enemy, I knew, wm not
Idle. As I stood peering unavailingly through the
gtoom I could hear the quick thud of the safe door
being shut. Then came the distinct sound of a heavy
key being thrust and turned in a metal lock-Uie safe
obviously, was of the old-fashioned key-tumWer make
—and then the noise of this key being withdrawn
Then came a click or two of shoe heels, a rustle of
clothing, and a moment later the startlingiy sharp
shattering of a window-pane.

The womta had deliberately kicked the safe and
flung the key through the window! She had stolen
• march on me. She had defeated me in the first
movement of our encounter. My hesiUtion had been
A mistake, a costly mistake.

"Be so good as to turn on that light!" I commanded.

THE STOLEN WHEEL-CODE 75

Not A tomid cum from the iirlmm

*Tttm on thirt lighV I oriwL *n*tim oa tiMt Uflit
orlTlfirel IH r»ke every foot ol tWt room r And
with that I gave a veiy tignificaiit doubla dkk to mr
cigarette caie qirhig.

The light came on agahw u mdOmdy u it went
ortt. I diwatetibr pocketed my cigaittte cate.

The woman was itandhig beside the eaf e, at before^

•todying me with her wide and diaBenglngeyefc But
all this time not a word had come from her Upa.

"Sit downr* I commanded, as anthoritativciy and
yet as offhandedly as I could. It was then that she
•poke for the first thne;

"Thank you, I prefer to stand!" wu her answer.
St» Bpokt cahnly and distinctly and ahnost without
accent Yet I felt the voice was, hi some way, a lor-
e^one. Some vague stibstntum of the exotfe hi the
carefully ennndated tones made me surmise that she
was either an Austrian or a Gaffidsed Hungarian, or
if not that, possibly a PbHsh woman.

"You will be here for some timci" I hinted.

"And your she asked. I noticed an almost hn-
pcrceptiMe rfirug of her softly rounded shoulder. Rice
powder, I hnagined. somewhat increased its general
effect of dead-whiteness.

"Ill be here until that safe is opened," was my re-
tort.

"That longr she mocked.

"That kMigl" I repeated, exa^erated at her stow
smile.

"Ah, then I shaU sit down," stw murmured as she

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76 THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

caught up the lace cape and adjusted it about her
shoulders. "For, believe me, that will be a very, very
long time, monsieur!"

I watched her carefully as she crossed the room
and sank into a chair. She drew her cream-colored
train across her knees with frugal and studious delib-
erateness.

It suddenly flashed over me, as I watched her, that
her ruse might have been a double-barreled one. Ob-
liquity such as hers would have unseen convolutions.
It was not the key to the safe she had flung through
the window! She would never have been so foolish.
It was a trick, a subterfuge. She still had that key
somewhere about her.

"And now what must I do?" she asked as she drew
the cloak closer about her shoulders.

"You can hand me over the key to that safe," was
my answer.

She could actually afford to laugh a little.
"That is quite impossiWe !"
"I want that key!" I insisted.
"Pardon, but is this not— dangerous ?" she mildly
inquired. "Is it not so, to break into houses at mid-
night, and rob women ?"
It was my turn to laugh.

"Not a bit of it," I cahnly assured her. "And you
can judge if I'm frightened or not. There's sometliing-
much more dangerous than that!"

She was again studying me with her puzzled and
ever-narrowing eyes.
"Which means?" she prompted.

THE STOLEN WHEEIXTODE

"Wdl, for example, the theft of government naval
codes, among other things."

"You are very, vety drunk," she retorted with her
quieUy scoffing smile. "Or you are insane, quite in-
sane. May I not lock my jewels in my own safe ? Ah,
I begin to see—this is a trick, that you may steal
from meT

"Then why not send for the poUce?" I challenged,
pointing toward the telephone.

A look of guile crept into her studious eyes.

"You will permit that?" she asked.

"I invite it," was my answer.

"Then I shaU caU for help."

"Only from the police."

"Yes; I shaU call for help^" she repeated, crossing
to the telephone

I leaned forward as she stood in front of it I -
caught her bare arm in my left hand, just below the
elbow. As I drew it backward it brought her body

against mine, pinning her other arm down ck>se against
my side.

The thing was repugnant to me, but it was neces-
saty. As I pinioned her there, writhing and panting',
I deliberately thrust my right hand into the open bosom
of her gown: I was dinUy oonsdoos of a faint aura
of perfume, of a sense of warmth behind the soft and
lace-fringed conagt. But it was ^ key itself tfiat
redeemed the rude assault and brought a gasp of re-
lief to my lips — the huge brass key, as fa% at aa ^g
beater.

"Ldckef I heard gasped into my ear.

78 THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

{

The woman staggered to a chair, white to the lips;
and for a moment or two I thought she was going to
faint

"Oh, you dog!" she gasped, as she sat there panting
and staring at me with blazing eyes. "Cochon! Cur!"

But I paid little heed to her, for the wine of victory
was already coursing and tingling through my veins.

"You know, you can still call the police," I told
her as I faced the heavy black door of the safe. One
turn of the wrist, I knew, would bring me face to
face with my jM-ize.

A sudden movement from the woman, as I stooped
over the safe door, brought me round in a flash. She
was on her feet and half-way across the room before
I could intercq>t her. And I was not any too gentle,
I'm afraid, for the excitement of the thing had gone
to txty head.

That earlier assault at my hands seemed to have
intimidated her. I could see actual terror in her eyes
as I forced her back against the wall. She must have
realized her helplessness. She stared up into my face,
bewildered, desperate. There was something supple
and panther-like about her, something alluring and yet
disturbing. I could sec what an effective weapon that
sheer physical beauty of hers might be, once its tiger-
ish menace had been fully sheathed.

"Wait!" she cried, catching at my arm. "If there
is anything you want I will give it to you."

"There are several things I want," was rssf uncom-
promising answer.

THE STOLEN WHEEL<:0M;

"But why should you want them?" she asked, still
dinging to my arm.

"It's my duty to take them," I replied, unconscious
of any mendacity. "That's what I'm sent here for!
That's why I've watched the man who gave you the
packet!"

"What packet?"

"The padcet you took in Madison Square an hour
ago; the packet you tocked in this safe! And if you
like 111 tdl you just what that packet is!"

"This is some mistake, some very sad mistake," she
had the effrontery to declare. Her arm still dung to
me. Her face was very dose to mine as she went
on. "I can explain everything, if you will only give
me the time — everything! I can show you where you
are wrong, and how you may suffer through a mistake
like this!"

"We can talk all that over later," I prtmiptly told
her, for I was beginning to suspect that her object now
was merdy to kill time, to keep me there, in the hope
of some chance discovery. I peered about the room,
wcmdering what would be the q^iickest way out of
my dilemma.

"What are you going to do?" she adced as she
watched me shove a diair over against the wall, di-
rectly beside the safe.

"I'm going to seat you very comlortaMy in this
very ccmifortaUe diair," I informed her, "and in this
equally comfortable comer directly bdiind the safe
door. And at the first tridc or aign of trotdble, Fm

8o THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

afraid Fm going to make a hole right through one of
those nice white shoulders of yours !'*

She sat down without bei^ forced into the chair.
Her alert and ever-moving eyes blazed luminously
from her dead-white face. I knew, as I thrust the huge
key in the safe lock and turned it bock that she would
have to be watched, and watched every moment of the
time.

I had aheady counted on the safe door, as it swung
back, making a barrier across the comer in whiA she
sat This I found to be the case. I took a second pre-
caution, however, by shoving a tilted chair-back firmly
in under the edge of the safe tock.

I knew, as I stooped before the open strong box.
that she could make no sudden move without toy be-
ing conscious of it. I also knew that time was pre-
cious. So I reached into the depths of the ahnost
empty safe and lifted out a number of papen neatly
heW together by a rubber band.

These I placed on the safe tope Then I snapped off
the band and examined the first doci'ment On the
back of it, neatly inscribed in French, was the emi-
nently satisfactory legend : "Plans and Specifications ;
Bs. Lake Torpedo Company, Bridgeport." The next
packet was a blue print of war projectiles, and on the
back of it was written: "Model Tradngs, through
Jenner, from the Bliss fk Company Works— 18— Self-
Projectors."

The third packet carried no inscription. But as
I opened it I saw at a glance what it was. I knew
in a moment that I held before me the governmental

THE STOLEN WHEEL-CODE

mcel-code of wireleM signals in active service. It
was the code that had been stden from Uetrtenant
Pabner. The fourth and last p&per, I found "^vas
plainly the dummy vMdi had been taken from ^
.tame oflScer that night in Madison Square. The case
was complete. The chase was over and d<»e.

'Tn the cash drawer, on the right, you will find
more/' quietly remarked the young woman watdiing
me f rcmi the side of the safe.

*'It's locked," I said, as I tugged at the drawer knoh,
I stood erect at her sudden laugh.

**Why not take everything?** At asked, with her
scoffing smile.

And I saw no reasim why I riiouldn't; though a
suspicion crossed n^ mind that this might be still
anoHher ruse to kiH time. If sudi it was, I faced it
at once, for I sent my boot heel in'onq>tly in against
the wooden cash drawer, smashing it at one blow.

She had been mistaken, or had ddiberatdy lied, for
the drawer was emp^. And I told her so, with con-
siderable heat.

"Ah, we all make mistakes, I think," she murmured
with her enigmatic shrug.

"What I want to know," I said as I banded the
four papers together and thrust them down in my
pocket, "is just how you got that first code from nqr
young friend the lieutenant?"

She smiled again, a little wearily, as I swui^ tiie
safe door shut and locked it. She did not rise from
the chair. But as I stood confronting Iwr, something
in n^ attitude, apparently, strode her as distmctly

B2 THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

humoroiis. For she broke into a wdden and decpw
fipple of laughter. There was. however, somethins
icy «Kl filling kit Her eyes now seemed more
/eiled. They had lost their earUer look of terror. Her
face seemed to have relaxed into softer contours.

"Would you like to know?" she said. Ufting her
face and looking with that older, half-mocking glance
mto my own. She was speaking slowly and ddih.
erately. and I could see the slight shrug she gave to
one panther-like shoulder. "Would / be so out of
place m a baUroom? Ah, have not more things than
hearts been lost when a man dances with a woman?"
'e— you mean you stole it, at the Plaza?"
"i>iOt at all, monsieur!" she murmured languidly
bade. Then she drew a deeper breath, and sat more
rigid m her straight-back chair.

Something about her face, at that moment, puzzled
me. It seemed to hold som- latent note of confidence.
The last trace of fear had fled from it There was
something strangely lik. , ,. . h, muffled triumph,
m It '^

An arrow of appreheiision shot through me, as I
stooped peering into her shadowy eyes. It went
Arough my entire body, sharp as an dectric shodc.
It brought me wheeling suddenly about with my back
to her and my face to the open room.

Then I understood. I saw through it all. in one
tinghng second. For there, faring me. stood the figure
of a man in navy blue. It was the same figure that
I had followed through the square.

But now there was nothing secretive or drcuitous

THE STOLEN WHEEL<X>DE

about hit atdtude. It was quite the other way; for m
he stood there he held u bhie4)arreled revolver in hit
hand. And I cculd tee, only too plainly, that it wat
leveled directly at me. The woman't ruse had worked.
I had watted too much time. The confederate for
whom the wat plainly waiting had come to her rescue.

The man took three or four stept farther into the
room. Hit revolver wat ttill covering me. I heard a
little gatp from the woman as the rose to her iotL
I took it for a ga^ of astonishment

"You are going to kiU him?" she cried in German.

"Haven't I got to?" asked back the man. Ketpoke
in English and without an accent "Don't you under-
stand he's a safe^eakerf He's broken into thit
house? So! He's caught in the act—he'a thot in telf-
defense!"

I watched the gun barrel The man's cahn words
seemed to horrify the woman at my side. But there
was not a trace of pity in her voice as she sp(^ again.

"Wait!" she cried.

"Why ?" asked the man with Ae gun.

"He has everything—the code» the plans, every-
thing."

"Get them!" commanded the man.

"But he's armed," she explained.

A sneer crossed the other's impassive face.

"What if he is? Take his gun; take everything!"

The woman stepped dose to where I stood. Again
I came within the radius of her perfumes. I couh!
even fed her breath on my face. Her movements
were more than ever panther-like at the went tiirougfa

84 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

my pockets, one by one. Yet her flashing and dex-
trous hands found no revolyer, for the simple reason
thw-e was none to find. This puzzled and worried her.

"Huny upl" commanded the man covering me.

She stepped bade and to one side, with the packet
in her hand.

"Now close the windows!" ordered th« man.

My heart went down in my boots as I heard the thud
of that second closed window. There was going to
be no waste of time.

I thought of catching the woman and hdding her
shield-like before me. I thought of the telephone; the
light-switch ; the window. But they all seemed hopeless.

The woman turned away, holding her hands over
her ears. The incongruous thought Bashed tlirough
me that two hours before I had called the city flat and
stale; and here, within a rifle shot of my own door, I
was standing face to face with death itself !

"Look here," I cried, much as I hated to, "what do
you get out of this?**

"Your said the man.

"And what good will that do?*'

"It'll pfx>bably shut your mouth, for one thing!'*

"But there are other mouths,'* I cried. "And I'm
afraid they'll have a great deal to say."

"I'm ready for them T' was his answer.

I ctald see his arm raise a little, and straighten out
as it raised. The gun barrel was nothing 1^ ^t a Mack
"O" at the end of my fine of vision. I fdt my heart
stop, for I surmised what the movement meant

THE STOLEN WHEEL<X>DE

Then I kogliMl oatriglit, aloud, aad alloctliitr Ib^
ishly and hytteriodly.

The ttrain had been too much for me, aik ^ emp
bf the rdetw had come too auddenly, too uuexpict-
edljr. I could see the man with the gun faltfik per-
plexedly, for a second or two^ and then I could see the
tightening of his thin4ipped mouth. But that was not
all Ihadseen.

For through the half-dosed door I had caught right
of the slowly raised iron rod, the very rod I had
wrenched from the outer hall window. I had seen its
descent at the moment I realiied the finality in those
quickly tightenuig lips.

It strudc the arm on its downward sweep. But it
was not in time to stop the discharge of the revolver.
The report thundered through tiie room as the bullet
ripped and spUntered into the pine of the floor. At
the same moment the discharged firearm went spinning
across the room, and as die man who held tt went down
with the blow, young Palmer himsdf swuag toward
me through the drifting smoke

As he did so, I turned to the woman w li her
hands stiU pressed to her ears. With one fmm jerk
I tore the rubber-banded padcet of papers ^^iii tm
dutdi.

"But the code?" gasped Pahner, as he tuggec %
at the safe door.

I did not answer him, for a sudden movement f ^ra
the woman arrested my attention. She had stogj ^
and caught up the fallen rev^er. The man in ^

86 THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

roQiiif over on bit hip, wat dimwiag a Moood fiA
from hit p od cgfc

''QtticicricalledtoPiliiiaraal twimr him lijr the
MXWfit and wtnt him cat^^uMi^f oat throimh tho tmoko
to the open door. "Qiticlt— and dude lowT

The diota came tofetfaer at we ttunibled againtt the
ttatrhead.

"Qiudcf I rqieated, at I pulled hLa after me.

"But the code?" he cried.

Tve got it!" I called out to him at we went pant-
inf and phmging down throus^ that three-i^ered wdl
of daricnett to the street and liberty. 'Tve got it— >
I've got evetythmg!"

;ui

the
)lce

CHAPTER IV

THS OraV OOOB

4iO HAIL I ddl tlM ctf, firr aiked the soHdtout.

eyed Bemor. : x/sr^jr mfediiiif me at I mede
mdy lor the ttitr.

'^o," was ngr ^.i joOy delMhed retort, "I mtcnd
to wane."

"Latreifle was addng, tk,ii yon would care to have
the car laid iipk''

'Hie ngnificance of that btaad tnggeatioii did not
escape me And it did not add to my tereoitjr of mfaid.

"Just what business it that of Latieille^ir I de-
manded, with a prickle of irritatioa. My patient-eyed
old butler averted his gfanoe, with a ii|^ lAikh he
didn't seem quite able to controL

' ttd at the end of the month," I went on, 1 in-
ten to disdiarge that maa Vm tired of hit inso-
lences."

1 es» att Benson softly yet fervently a(reed*

My nerves were on tdgt, I knew, but I wasn't look-
ing for sympathy from my hired hdpi And when I
swung tiie door drat bdihid me I am a&ikl it waa §
movement far from no i s e less .

1 waa glad to get out hito the open, glad to
away from old Benson's co mmis e ra tive ores, and have
space about m^ and cool air to breathe^ and unc o tinted
miles of pavement to weary toy legs on.

I noticed, as I turned into fifth Avcmie^ that the

88 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

moving finger of light on the Metropolitan dock-dial
pointed to an hour past midnight. So I veered about
that delta of idleness, where the noontide turbulence of
Broadway empties its driftwood into the quietness of
the square, and pursued my way up the avenue.

No one can claim to know New York who does not
know its avenues in those mystical small hours that fall
between the revolving street-sweeper and the robin-
call of the first morning paper. Fifth Avenue, above
all her sisters, then lies as though tranquillized by
Death, as calm as the Coliseum under its Italian mocrn-
%ht. She seems, under the stars, both medievalized
and spiritualized. She speaks then in an intimate
whisper foreign to her by day, veiling her earthlicr
loquacity in a dreaming wonder, softening and sweet-
ening like a woman awaiting her k>vcr. The great
steel shafts enclosed in their white marble become tur-
rets crowned with mystery. And the street-floor it-
self, as clean and polished as a ballroom, seems to
undulate off into outer kingdoms of romance. An
occasional lonely motor-car, dipping up its gentle
slopes like a ship treading a narrow sea-lane buoyed
with pearls as huge as pumpkins^ only accentuates the
midnight solitude.

So up this dustless and odorless and transmuted
avenue I wandered, as passively as a policeman on his
beat, asking of the quietness when and how I might
capture that crown of weariness known as sleep.

I wandered on, mocked at by a thousand drawn
blinds, teiunted b/ a thousand somnolently closed doors.
I felt, in that city of rest, as homeless as a prairie

THE OPEN DOOR

wolf. The very smugness of those vefled and self-
satisfied house-frcmts began to get on n^ nerves. The
very taciturnity of the great silent hostelries irritated
me; everything about them seemed so eloquent of an
interregnum of rest, of relaxed tension, of invisible
reservoirs of life being softly and secretly filled.

Yet as I came to the open width of the Plaza, and
saw the wooded gloom of Central Park before me, I
experienced an even stronger feeling of disquiet. Tliere
seemed something repugnant in its autumnal solitudes.
That vague agoraphobia peculiar to the neurasthenic
made me long for the contiguity of my own kind, how-
ever unconscious of me and my wandering they might
remain. I found myself, ahnost without thought, veer-
ing ofif eastward into one of the city's side-streets.

Yet along this lateral valley of quietness I wandered
as disccmsolately as before. What impressed me now
was the monotony of the house-fronts which shoul-
dered together, block by block. Each front seemed of
the same Indiana limestone, of the same dull gray, as
though. Indeed, tfie whole district were a quarry check-
er-boarded by eroding cross-currents out of the self-
same rock. Each tier of windows seemed backed by
the same blinds, each street-step barricaded by the same
door. I stopped and looked up, wondering if behind
those neutral-tinted walls and blinds were lives as bald
and monotonous as the materials that screened them.
I wondered if an environment so without distinction
would not actually evolve a type equally destitute of
individuality.

I turned where I stood, and was about to pass dif-

V-

3,;
I

90 THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

£dently on, when one of the most unexpected things
that can come to a man at midnight happened to me.

Out of a clear sky, without a note or movement of
warning, there suddenly fell at my feet a heavy bundle.

Where it came from I had no means of telling. The
house above me was as silent and dark as a tomb.
The street was as empty as a church. Had the thing
been a meteor out of a star-lit sky, or a wildcat leap-
ing from a tree-branch, it could not have startled me
more.

I stood looking at it, in wonder, as it lay beside the
very area-railing on which my hand had rested. Then
I stepped back and leaned in over this lailmg, more
clearly to inspect the mystery. Whatever it was, it
had fallen with amazingly little noise. There was'no
open window to explain its source. There had been no
wind to blow it from an upper-story sill There was
no movement to show that its loss had been a thing
of ponderable import. Yet there it lay, a mystery
which only the deep hours of the night, when the
more solemnly imaginative faculties come into play,
could keep from being ridiculous.

I stood there for several minutes blinking down at
it, as though it were a furred beast skulking in a cor-
ner. Then I essayed a movement which, if not above
the commonplace, was equally related to common sense.
I stepped in through the railing and picked up the
parcel I turned it over several times. Then I sat
down on the stone steps and deliberately untied the
heavy cord that baled it together.

T now saw why I had thought of that faUing bundle

THE OPEN EKDOR

as an animal's leap. It was completely wrapped
in what I took to be a Russian-squirrel motor-coat
The tightly tied fur had padded the par&l's fall.

Enclosed iri that silk-lined garment I found a small-
er bundle, swathed about with several lengths of what
seemed to be Irish point lace. Inside this again were
other fragments of lacework. Through these I thrust
my exploring fingers with all the alert curiosity of
a child investigating a Christmas-tree cornucopia.

There, in the heart of the parcel, I found a collection
which rather startled me. The first thing I examined
was a chamois bag filled with women's rings, a dozen
or more of them, of all kinds. I next drew out a
Florentine repoussi hand-bag set with turquoises and
seed-pearls, and then a moonstone necklace, plainly of
antique Roman workmanship. Next came a black and
white Egyptian scarab, and then, of all things, a snuff-
box. It was oval and of gold, enameled en plein with
a pastoral scene swarming with plump |Mnk Cupids.
Even in that uncertain light it required no second
glance to assure me that I was looking down at a rare
and beautiful specimen of Louis XV jeweler's art.
Then came a small photograph in an oval gold frame.
The remainder of the strange collection was made up
of odds and ends of jewelry and a leather-covered
traveling-clock stamped with gilt initials.

I did not take the time to took more closely over
this odd assortment of valuables, for it now seemed
clear that I had stumbled on something as disturbing
as it was unexpected. The only explanation of w otfi-
eninse inexj^icaUe situation was that a house-oreaker

92 THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

■: i-

was busily operating somewhere behind the gray-stone
wall which I faced.

The house behind that wall seemed to take on no
new color at this dis overy. Its inherent sobriety, its
very rectangularity of outline, appeared a contradiction
of any claim that it might be harboring a figure either
picturesque or picaresque. It was no old n^ansion
stained with time, dark with m<anories and tears. It
carried no atmosphere of romance, no suggistion of
old and great adventures, of stately ways and noble
idlers, of intrigues and unremembered loves and hates,
of silence and gloom touched with the deeper eloquence
of unrecorded history. It was nothing more than a
new and narrow and extremely modem house, in the
very heart of a modem New York, simple in line and -
as obvious in architecture as the warehouses along an
old-world water-front, as bare of heart as it was bald
of face, a symbol of shrill materialities, of the day
of utility. It could no more have been a harbor for
romance, I told myself, than the stone curb in front
of it could be translated into a mountain-precipice
threaded with brigand-paths.

Yet I went slowly up those unwelcoming stone steps
with the bundle under my arm. The thief at work in-
side the house, I assumed, had simply tied the heavier
part of his loot together and dropped it from a quietly
opened window, to be gathered as quickly up, once he
had effected his escape to the street. The sudden after-
thought that it might have .been dropped for a con-
federate caused me to look carefully eastward and
then as carefully westward. But not a sign of life

THE OPEN DOOR

met my gaze. My figure standing puzzled before that
unknown door was the only figure in the street.

Heaven only knows what prompted me to reach out
and try that door. It was, I suppose, little more than
the habit of a lifetime, the almost unconscious habit
of turning a knob when one finds oneself confronted
by a door that is closed. The thing that sent a little
thrill of excite .^ent through my body was that the
knob ttimed in my hand, that the door itself stood
unlocked.

! stooped down and examined this lode as best I
could in the uncertain light I even ran a caressing
finger along the edge of the doer. There was no evi-
dence that it had been jimmied open, just as there was
no^iag to show that the lock itself did not stand in-
tact and uninjured. A second test of the !mob, how-
ever, showed me that the door was unmistakably open.

My obvious course, at such a time, would have been
to wait for a patrolman or to slip quietly away and
send word in to police headquarters. But, as I have
already said, no man is wholly sane after nudnight
Subliminal faculties, ancestral perversions, dormant
and wayward tendencies, all come to the surtace, emerg-
ing like rats about a sleejung mansion. And crowning
these, again, was my own neurasthenic craving for
activity, my hunger r the narcotizing influence of
excitement

And it has its zest of novelty, this stepping into an
unknown and unlighted house at three o'clock in the
morning. That novelty takes on a razor-edge when
you have fairly good evidence that some one who has

94 THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

no business there has already preceded you into that
house.

So a^ I stepped inside and quietly closed the door
after me, I moved forward with the utmost care. Some
precautionary sixth sense told me the place was not
unoccupied. Yet the daricness that surrounded me
was absolute. Not a sound or movement came to my
cars as I stood there listening, minute after minute.
So I crept deeper into the gloom.

My knowledge of that stereotyped class of residence
provided me with a very fair idea of where the stair-
way ought to stand. Yet it took much prodding and
groping and pawing about before I came to it One
flicker of a match, I knew, would have revealed the
whole thing to me. But tc strike a light, under the
circumstances, would be both foolish and dangerous.
No house dog, I felt, would interrupt my progress;
th'; mere remembrance of the intruder above me set my
mind at rest on this point

I came to a stop at the head of the first stairway,
puzzled by Jie completeness of the quiet which encont-
passed me. I directed my attention to each quarter
of the compass, point by point

But I might have been locked and sealed in a as-
tern, so complete was the silence, so opaque was the
blackness. Yet I felt that nothmg was to be gained
by staying where I was.

So I groped and shuffled my way onward, rounding
the banister and advancing step by step up the second
stairway. This. I noticed, was both narrower and
steeper than the first I was also not unconscious

THE OPEN DOOR

of the fact that it was leading me into a zone of
greater danger, for the floor I was approaching, I
knew, would be the sleeping floor.

I was half-way up the stairway when something
undefined brought me to a sudden stop. Some ..oo
tumal adeptness of instinct warned me of an imminent
presence, of a menace that had not yet disclosed itself.

Once more I came to a stop, straining my eyes
thiouj^ the darluiess. Nothing whatever was to be
seen. Along the floor of the hallway just above my
head, however, passed a small but unmistakable sound.
It was the soft frourfrou of a skirt, a skirt of silk r/
satin, faintly rustling as a woman walked the full
length of the hall. I had just made a mental raster
of the deduction that this woman was dressed in street-
clothes, and was, accordingly, an intruder from out-
side, rather than a sleeper suddenly awakened, when
a vague suffusion of light filled the space above me
and was as quickly quenched again.

I knew the moment I heard the soft thud of wood
closing against wood, that a door had been quietly
opened and as quietly closed again. The room into
which that door led must have been faintly lighted,
for it was the flowering of this refracted light that
had caught toy attention.

I went silently up the stains, step by step, listening
every now and then as I advanced. Once I reached
the floor level I kept dose to the wall, feeling my way
along until I came to the door I wanted.

There was no v/ay whatever of det«muning yAai
stood on the other skle of that door, without opening

96 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

it I knew what risks I ran in attemptine any tucb
movement But I decided it was worth the risk.

Now, ,f a door is opened slowly, if every quarter-
inch of movement is measured and guarded, it can. as
a rule, be done noiselessly. I felt quite sure there
was not one distinguishable sound as I cautiously
turned Aat bronze knob and even more cautiously
worked back the door, i :ch by inch.

I <ame to a stop when it stood a little more than a
foot from the jamb. I did not, at first, attempt to
sidkm through the aperture; that would have been
needlessly reckless. I stood there waiting, anticipat-
ing the effect the door-movement might have had on
any occupant of the room, had it been seen.

While I waited I also studied that portion of the
chamber which fcU within my line of vision I saw
enough to convince me that the room was a bed-
room. I could also make out that it was laree, and
fn>m Ae rcwe-pirfc of its walls to the ivory-white
of Its fiinushrngs it stood distinctly feminine in its
note.

There was, I felt, a natttral limit to that period of
oq)cnmental inaction. The silence lengthened The

crisis of tedium approached, arrived, and passed. Au-
daciousness reconquered me. and I actually advanced a
httle mU) the room. Steadying myself with one hand
on the door-frame, I thrust my body through the nar-
row aperture until the whole four walls lay subject
to my line of vision. ^

The first thing I noticed was a green-shaded elec-
tric lamp burmng on what seemed to be a boudoir

THE OPEN DOOR

writing-table. It left the rest of the room b little
more than twflight. But after the utter darkness
through which I had groped, this faint illumination
was quite adequate for my purposes.

I let my gaze pivot about the room, point by point
Then, if I did not gasp, there was at least a sudden
and involuntary cessation of breathing, for standing
beside a second door at the farther end of the room
was a woman dressed in black. On her head was a
black hat, round which a veil was tightly wound,
the front of it apparently thrust up hurriedly from
her face. But what startled me was the fact that
both her attitude and her position seemed such an
exact duf^cation of my own.

With (me hand, I noticed, she dtuig to the frame of
the door. With the other hand she held back a heavy
portiere, which hung across thi? frame. I could see
the white half-oval of her intent face as she stood
there. S<»nething about her suggested not tlw spy-
ing intruder so much as the secret listener. Her atten-
tion seemed directed toward some object which her
eyes were not seeing. It appeared as though she
stood waiting to overhear a sound which meant much
to her.

As I peered past her through the dim light I could
catch a faint glhnmer of green and white marble, with
here and there the high-lights reflected from polished
nickel. I knew then that the room into which she was
peering was a bathroom, and this bathroom, I con-
cluded, (^)encd on a sec(md sle^ng-diamber which
held the raison d'etre of her moticHiIess £^)prehension.

!ll<

98 THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

I directed my glance once more tt the woman.
Something ahnost penitential in her attitude brought
the sudden thought to my mind that she had commit-
ted a crime at the mere men.ory of which she was
already morally stricken. Unexpected discoveiy, I
began to suspect, had driven her to an extreme which
she was already beginning to regret There was,
in fact, something so pregnant and portentous in
that unchanging attitude of hers that I began to feel it
would be a mean surrender on my part to evade the
issue in which I had already risked so much. So I
moved sUentiy into the room, crossing it without a
sound, until I dropped into a high-backed fauteuU
upholstered in embossed and pale-green leather.

I sat there studying her, unaccountably at my ease,
fortified by the knowledge that I was the observer
of an illicit intrusion and that my own presence, if
impertinent, might at least be easily expUiined. I saw
her sigh deeply and audibly, and then gently close the
door, dropping the curtain as she turned slowly away.
I watched her as she crossed to the dresser, looked
over the toilet articles on it, and then turned away,
ohe next skirted a heavy cheval-mirror, crossed to the
writing-table with her quick yet quietly restless move-
ments, and from this table caught up what seemed to
be a metal paper-knife. She moved on to an ivory
and mother-of-pearl desk, which, apparently, she al-
ready knew to be locked. For after one short glance
toward the curtained door again, she inserted the edge
of the knife in a crack of this desk and slowly pried
on the lock-bar that held it shut

THE OPEN DOOR

I Mtw her Mcond apprehensive glance toward the
curtained door at the lode iprung with a snap. She
sank into a chair before it, breathing quickly, obvkwsly
waiting a minute or two to make sure ^ had not
been overheard. Then with quidc and dextrous fingers
she rummaged through the desk. Ju&t what she swept
from one of the drawers into her open hand-bag
I could not distinguish. But I plainly saw tfie padc-
age of letters which she took up in her hand, turned
over and over, then carefully and quietly secreted
within the bosom of her dress. She looked deeper
into the desk, examined an additional pi^ter or two
which appeared not to interest her, and sk>wly swung
back the cover.

Then she slowly rose to her feet, standing beside
the desk. She let her gaze, as she stood there, wander
about the room. I could distinctly see the look on
. her face, the hungry and unhappy lode of unsatisfied
greed. I sat motionless, waiting for that expression
to change. I knew that it must change, for it would
be but a moment or two before she caught sight of me.
But I had seen enough. I felt sure of my position —
in fact, I found a wajrward relish in it, an almost
enjoyable antidpation of the shock which I knew the
discovery of my presence there would bring to her.
I even exulted a little in that impending dramatic
crisis, rejoidng in the slowness with whidi tfie inevit-
able yet qpochal moment was apjvoaching.

Her eyes must have dwdt on my figure for several
seconds before her mind became convii^ed of my ac-
tual presence there. She did not scream, as I tiiought

•^l

too THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

•he wu thout to do when I mw one terrified hand go
up to her pwtly open Up^ Beyond that tingle hand-
movement there was no motion whatever from her. She
•imply stood there, white-faced and ^ttAku, staring
at me out of wide and vacant eyes.

"Good evening-or, rather, good morning!" I said,
with all the cabnne^s at my command.

For one brief second she glanced back toward the

curtained door, as though behind it lay a sleeper my

words might awaken. Then she starvd at me agaia

She did not speak. She did not even move. The

intent and staring face, white as a half-moon in a nusty

•ky, seemed floating in space. The faint light of

tfie room swaUowed up the lines of her black-cUul

figure. enisUng the face in the unbroken gkxmi of a

Rembrandt-like background, making it stand out as

though it were luminous.

It was a face well worth studying. What first
•trudc me was its pallor. Across this the arched,
famtly mterrogativc eyebrows gave it a false air of
delicacy. The eyes themselves had a spacious clarity
vhich warned me my enemy would not be without a
cai^ble enough mind, once she regained possession
of her wits. Her mouth, no longer distorted by terror
was the nervous. fuU-lippcd mouth of a once ardent
spirit touched with rebellion.

She was, I could sec, no every-day thief of the
streets, no ordinary offender satisfied with mean and
petty offenses. There would, I told myself, always be
a largen^s about her wrongdoing, a sinister bril-
liance m her illicit pursuits. And even while I decided

THE OPEN DOOR

loi

this, I wu forced to admit that it wu not predady
terror I waabdidding on Iwr face. It aeemed to merge
into aomething more like a lente of shame, the fame
tpeechkM horror whi H I might have met with had I
intruded on her bodify nakedness. I could see that she
was even helping to resent my stare of curiosity.
Then, for the first time, sIm spoke.

"Who are ]rou?" she asked. Her voice was k>w;
in it was the quaver of the frightened w<mum reso-
lutely steeling herself to courage.

"That* A a questi(m you're first ' »o answer for
mt" was my cafanly deliberate n. r.

"What are you doing here?" . le demanded, still
ccmfronting me frc»n the same spot I r eme ni bere d
the bui^k of k)ot which I had dropptd just outside
the door.

"I can answer that more easily than you can," I
replied, with a slij^t iMad-movement toward the
brdcen desk-top.

Once more her glance went back to the curtained
door. Then she studied me from head to foot, eadi
sartorial detail and accessory of clothing, hat, gkyves»
and slK>e8, as though each must figure in the resdution
of some final judgment

"What do you want?" she demanded.

I ineferred to leave that question unanswered.

"What do you intend to do?" she demanded, Qooe
more searching my face.

I resented the way in whidi she <.n^'*lpftted my own
questions. I could see, fror) tht ft >t, thit ri« was
going to be an extraordinar'vr adept P,nd circuitous

I02 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

person to handle. I warned myself that I would have
to be ready for every trick and turn.

"What do you suppose I'm going to do?" I
equivocated, looking for some betraying word to put
me on finncr ground. I could see that she was slow-
ly regaining her self-possession.

"You have no right in this house," she had the
brazenness to say to me.

"Have your I quickly retorted. She was silent for
a second or two.

"No," she admitted, much as she would like to have
claimed the contrary.

"Of course not! And I imagine you realize what
your presence here implies, just as what your dis-
covery here entails?"

"Yes," she admitted.

"And I think you have the intelligence to under-
stand that I'm here for motives somewhat more dis-
interested than your own?"

"What are they?" she demanded, letting her com-
bative eyes meet mine.

"That," I cahnly replied, "can wait until you've ex-
plained yourself."

"I've nothing to explain."

There was a newer note in her voice again— one
of stubbornness. I could see that the cahnness with
which I pretended to regard the whole affair was a
source of bewilderment to her.

"You've got to explain," was my equally obdurate
retort

Her next pose was one of frigidity.

THE OPEN DOOR

103

**You are quite mistaken. We have nothing what-
ever to do with each other."

"Oh, yes we have. And I'm going to prove it"

"How?"

"By putting an end to this play-acting."

"That sounds like a threat"

"It was meant for one."

"What right have yo« to threaten me?"

She looked about as she spoke, ahnost wearily.
Then she sank into the chair that stood beside the
ravaged writing-desk. It was all diverting enough,
but I was beginning to lose patience with her.

"I'm tired of all this side-stepping," I told her.
An answering lode of anger flashed from her eyes.

"I object to your presence here," she had the
effrontery to exclaim.

"You mean, I suppose, that I'm rather interfering
with your night's operations?"

"Those operations," she answered in a fluttering
dignity, "are my own affairs."

"Of course they are!" I scoffed. "They have to be !
But )^>u should have kept them your own affairs.
When you drop a bundle of swag out of a window
you shouldn't ccxne so perilously near to knocking a
man's hat off."

"A bundle of swa^?" she echoed, with such a precise
imitation of wonder that I could {Mainly see she was
going to be the astutest of liars.

"The loot you intended carrying off " I calmly ex-
plained. '*11te stuff you dropp«i down beade tlw
house-step, to be ready for your getaway."

5, I' ;

, i

■J-:

104 THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

"My whatr

"Your escape. And it was rather clever."

"I dropped nothing," she protested, with a fine pre-
tense of bewilderment on her face.

"Nor let it roll quietly oflF a front window-ledge?"
I suggested.

"I was near no window — it would be impossible
for me to c^n a window," she protested. Her words
in themselves were a confession.

'•You seem to know this house pretty well," I re-
marked.

'7 ought to—ifs my <mm/' was her quick retort

"It's your own?" I repeated, amazed at the woman's
mendacity.

"It was my own," she corrected.

I peered quickly about the room. It held three
doors, one behind the wcmian, opening into the bath-
room, a second opening into the hallway, and a third
to the rear, which plainly opened into a clothes-closet
There had been too much of this useless and foolish
argument

"Since your claim to proprietorship is so strong," I
said as I crossed to the hall door, and, after locking
it, pocketed the key, "there are certain features of it
I want you to explain to me."

"What do you mean?" she asked, once more on
her feet

"I want to know," I said, moving toward the
curtained door beside her, "just who or what is in
that front room?"
The look of terror came back to her white face.

THE OPEN DOOR

los

She even stood with her back against the door, as
though to keep me from opening it, making an in-
stinctive gesture for silence as I stood facing her.

"I'm going to find out what is in that room," I
proclaimed, unmoved by the agcmy I saw written on her
guilty face.

"Oh, believe me," she said, in supplicatory tones, a
little above a whisper, "it will do no good. It will only
make you sorry you interfered in this."

"But you've made it my duty to interfere."

"No; no; you're only Wundering into something
where you can do no good, where you have no right"

"Then I intend to blunder into that roomP' And
I tore the portiere f rcmi her grasp and flung it to one
side.

"Wait," she whispered, white-faced and panting
dose beside me. "I'll tdl you everything. Ill ex-
plain it — ever3rthing."

The tn^c solemnity of that low-toned relinquish-
ment brought me up short. It was my turn to be
bewildered by an opponent I could not understand.

"Sit down," she said, with a weary and almost im-
periou" movement of the hand as she advanced into
the room and again sank into the chair beside the
writing-desk.

"Now what is it you want to know?** she asked,
with only too obvious equivocatitm. Her trick to gain
time exasperated me.

"Don't quibble and temporize that way," I cried.
"Say what you've got to, and say it quidc"

She directed at me a look which I resented, a look'

io6 THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

of scorn, of superiority, of resignation in the face of
brutalities which I should never have subjected her ta
Yet, when she spoke again her voice was so cahn aa
to seem almost colorless.

"I said this was my home— and it's true. This was
once my room. Several weeks ago I left it"

"Why?" I inquired, resenting the pause which was
plainly giving her a chance to phrase ahead of her
words.

"I quarreled with my husband. I went away. I
was angry. I— I— There's no use explaining what
it was about."

"You've got to explain what it was about," I in-
sisted.

"You couldn't possibly understand. It's impossible
to explain," she went quietly on. "I discharged a
servant who was not honest. Then he tried to black-
mail me. He lied about me. I had been foolish, in-
discreet, anythmg you care to call it But the lie he
told was awful, unbelievable. That my husband should
ask me to disprove it was more than I could endure.
We quarreled, miserably, hopelessly. I went away. I
felt it would be humiliating to stay under the same
roof with him."

"Wait," I interposed, knowing the weak link was
sure to present itself in time. "Where is your bus-
band now?"

She glanced toward the curtained door.

"He's in that room asleep," she quietly reified.

"And knowing him to be asleep you caaat to dean
out the house?" I promoted

■=a^lE=~s^

THE OPEN DOOR

107

**No," she answered without anger. "But wheri
service was begun for an interlocutory decree I knew
I could never come back openly. There wwe certain
things of my own I wanted very much."

"And just how did you get into the house?"

"The one servant I could trust agreed to throw off
the latch after midnight, to leave the door unlocked
for me when I knew I would never be seen."

"Then why couldn't that trusted servant have se-
cured the things, these things you came after? With-
out all this foolish risk of your forcing your way
into a house at midnight?"

Her head drooped a little.

"I wanted to see my husband," was the quiet-toned
response. Just how, she did not explain. I had to
admit to myself that it was very good acting. But
it was not quite convincing; and the case against her
was too palpably clear,

"This is a fine cock-and-bull story," I calmly de-
clared. "But just how are you going to make me
believe it?"

"You don't have to believe it," was her impassive
answer. "I'm only telling you what you demanded
to know."

"To know, yes — but how am I to know?"

She raised her hand with a movement of listless
resignation.

"If you go to the top drawer of tfiat dresser you
will see my f^otograph in a silver frame next to <»c of
my husband. That will show you at a glance."

For just a moment it flashed through me as I

io8 THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

crossed the room that this might be a move to give
her time for some attempted escape. But I felt, on
second thought, that I was master enough of the
situation to run the risk. And here, at least, was a
point to which she could be most definitely pinned
down.

"The other drawer," she murmured as my hand
closed on the fragile ivory-tinted knob. I moved on
to the second drawer and opened it. I had thrust an
interrogative finger down into its haphazard clutter of
knick-knacks, apparently thrown together by a hurried
and careless hand, when from the other end of the
room came a quick movement which seemed to curdle
the blood in my veins. It brought me wheeling about,
with a jump that was both grotesque and galvanic

I was just in time to see the figure that darted out
through the suddenly opened door of the clothes-closet

I found mysdf confronted by a man, a thin-lipped,
heavy-jawed man of about thirty-five, with black pin-
point pupils to his eyes. He wore a small-rimmed
derby hat and a double-breasted coat of blue cheviot
But it was not his clothes that especially interested
me. What caught and held my attention was the
ugly, short-barreled revolver which was gripped in
the fingers of his right hand. This revolver, I noticed,
was unmistakably directed at me as he advanced into
the room. I could not decide which was uglier, the
blue-metaled gun or the face of the man behind it

"Get back against that wall," he commanded. "Then
throw up your hands. Get 'em up quidcT'
I had allowed her to trap me after all ! I had even

IMli

THE OPEN DOOR

109

let myself half -believe that pleasant myth of the slum-
bering husband in the next roonL And all the while
she was guarding this unsavory-lodcing confederate
who, ten to one, had been slinking about and working
his way into a wall-safe even while I was wasting
time with diverting but costly talk.

And with that gun-barrel Minking at me I had no
choice in the matter — I was compelled to assume the
impotent and undignified attitude of a man supplicating
the unanswering heavens. The wcmian turned and
contenq>lated the newcomer, contemplated him with a
fine pretense of surprise.

"Hohhs" she cried, "how did you get heref

"You shut up!" he retorted over his shoulder.

'''vNThat are you doing in this house?" she repeated,
with a sustained show of amazemoit

"Oh, I'll get round to you, all right, all right,** was
his second rejoinder.

Hobbs' left hand, in the meanwhile, had lifted my
watch from its podcet and with one quidc jerk tore
watch and chain away from its waistcoat andiorage.

"You're a sweet pair, you two!** I ejaculated, for
that watch was rather a decent one and I hated to
see it ill-treated.

"Shut up I" said Hobbs, as his hand went down in
my breast-podcet in search of a wallet. I knew, with
that gun-barrel pressed ckiee against n^ body, that it
would be nothing short of suicidal to tiy to have it out
widi him then and there. I had to submit to that
odious pawing and prodding about my body. But
if my turn ever came, I toM myself, it would be a sorry

no THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

day for Hobbs— and an equally aorry one for that
smocth-toogued confederate of his.

"You're a sweet pairl" I repeated, hot to the bone,
as that insolent hand went down into still another
pocket.

But it did not stay there. I saw a sudden change
creep over the man's face. He looked up with a
quick and bird-like side-movement of the head. It
was not until he wheeled about that I realized the rea-
son of the movement.

The actual motive behind the thing I could not
fathiom. The real significance of the tableau was be-
yond my reach. But as I looked up I saw that the
woman had crept noiselessly to the hall door, and with
a sudden movement had thrust out her hand and tried
to open this door. But as I had afready locked it, and
still carried the key in my pocket, her effort was a
useless one. Just why it should enrage her confederate
was more than I could understand. He ignored me for
the time being, crossing the room at a run and flinging
the woman in bbck away from the door-knob. She,
in turn, was making a pretense to resent that assault.
Why she should do this I did not wait to ask. I saw
my chance and took it

Half-a-dozen quick steps brought me to the bath-
room door, one turn of the knob threw it open, and
another stq> put me through it and brought the door
closed after me There was, I found, a key in the
lock. AnoAer second of time saw that key turned.
A quidc pad or two about the cool marble wall brought
my hand in contact with the light-switch.

warn

MB!

THE OPEN DOOR

III

The moment the light came on I darted to the
inner door and tried it. But this, to my diunay, was
lodced, although I could catch sig^t of no key in it
I ran back for the key of the first door, tried it, and
fotmd it useless. At any nK>ment, I knew, a shot mig^t
ccMne sintering through tluMe thin panels. And at
any moment, should they decide <m that move, the
two of themi might have their own door into the hall-
way forced open and be scampmng for the street

I reached over and wrendMd a nickeled towel-bar
away from the wall opposite me. One end of this
I deliberately jabbed into the white-leaded wood be-
tween the frame and the jam of the second door. I
was about to pry vrith aH n^ force, when the sound
of yet another voice came from the room before me.
It was a disturbed yet sleepy voice, muffled, apparently,
by a second porti^e hung on the outside of Uie second
door,

"Is diat you, Simmonds?" demanded tiiis vdce.

I continued to pry, for I felt like a rat in a comer,
in that bald little bathroom, and I wanted space
about me, even though that meant fresh danger. The
mysteries were now more than I could deci{^er. I
no longer gave thought to them. The first tiling I
wanted was liberation, eso^. But my rod-end bent
under the pressure to which I st:d>iected it, and I bad
to reverse it and try for a fresh hoM.

I could hear, as I did so, die sudden sound of fee*'
crossing a floor, the didc of a light-switch, and ^m
the rattle of the portike-rings aa. the rod above tiie
door at which I stood.

112 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

"Who locked this doorr demanded the starUed
voice on the other side. For answer, Jirew my
weight on the rod and forced the lock. I still kept
the metal rod in n^ hand, for a possible weapon, as
I half-stimiblcd out into the larger room.

Before me I saw a man in pajamas. He was btond
and big and his hair was rumpled— that was all I
knew about him, beyond the fact that his pajamas
were a rather foolish tint of baby-blue. We stood
there, for a second or two, staring at each. other.
We were each plainly afraid of the other, just as we
were each a little reassured, I imagine, at the sight
of the other.

"For the love of God," he gasped, wide-eyed, "who
are you?**

"Quick," I cried, "is this your house?**

"Of course it's my house,*' he cried back, retreat
ing as I advanced. He suddenly side-stepped and
idanted his thumb on a call-bell.

"GoodP* I said. "Get your servants here quick.
We'n need them!"

"Who'll need them? Whafs wrong? What's up?**

"I've got two hargian locked m that room.**

"Burglars?'*

"Yes, and they*n have a nice haul if they get away.
Have you got a revolver?"

"Yes," he answered, jerking open a drawer. I saw
that his firearm was an autcnnatic

"Where's the telephone?" I demanded, crossing the
room to Ae door that opened into the hall.

"On the floor below," he a^nwered He pulled on

THE OPEN DOOR

113

a tvown blanket dressing-gown, drawing iht girdk
tight At the waist

"You can get to it quicker than I can," I told him.
"Give me the gun, and throw on the lights as you
go down. Then get the police here as soon as you
can."

"What'U you do?" he demanded.

"I'll guard the door," I answered as I all but pushed
him into that hallway. Then I swung-to the door
after me, and locked it from the outside. "Quidc,
the gun," I said. There was no fear oa his face now,
yet it was natural enough that he should hesitate.

"What are you? An dficer?*'

There was no time for an explanaticMi.

"Plain-cl(^es man," was my glib enough answer,
as I caught the pstd from his hand. He switdied
on the hall lights.

He was half-way to the top of the stairs when a
woman's scream, high {Mtched and horriUe, echoed out
of the room where I had the two confederates trapped.
It was repeated, shrill and sharp. The face of die tig
blond man went as white as chaOc.

"Who is thatf* he demanded, with staring eyes,
facing the locked door of the second room. Thea he
backed off from the door.

I flung a cry of wammg at him, but it did not stop
his charge. His great shoulder went against the
paneled wood like a battering-ram. Under the weight
of that huge body the entire frame^fiacing gave way;
he went lunging and staggering from sight into the
dimly-lit inner room.

114 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

If i

I waited there, with my gun at half-arm, feeUng
the room would suddenly erupt its two prisoners.
Then, at a cry from the man, I stepped quickly in
after him.

I had fortified myself for the unexpected, but the
strangeness of the scene took my breath away. For
there I beheld the man called Hobbs engaged in the
absurd and extraordinary and altogether brutal occu-
pation of trying to beat in his confederate's head with
the butt of his heavy revolver. He must have struck
her more than once, even before the man in the hairy
brown dressing-gown and the blue pajamas could leap
for him and catch the uplifted arm as it was about to
strike again.

The woman, protected by her hat and veil and a
great mass of thick hair, still showed no signs of
collapse. But the moment she was free she sat back,
white and panting, in the same high-armed fauteuil
which I myself had occupied a half-hour before. I
made a leap for her companion's fallen revolver, before
she could get it, though I noticed that she now seemed
indifferent to both the loss of it and the outcome of
the struggle which was taking place in the center of
that pink and white abode of femininity.

And as I kept one eye on the woman and one on
the gun in my hand, I, too, caught fleeting glimpses
of that strange struggle. It seemed more like a com-
bat between wildcats than a fight between two human
beings. It took place on the floor, for neither man
was any longer on his feet, and it wavered from one
side of the room to the other, leaving a swath of

THE OPEN DOOR

destruction where it went A taUe went over, «
fragile-Umbcd chair was crushed, the great cbevaK
glass was shattered, the writing-desk coUapsed with a
leg snapped oil, a shower of toilet articles littered
the rugs, a reading-hunp was overtnmed and went
the way of the other things. But stiU the fight went
on.

I no longer thought of li» woman. All my atten*
tion went to the two men struggling and panting about
the floor. The fury of the man in the shaggy and
bear-like dressing-gown was more than I could under-
stand. The madness of his onsUui^^ seemed incom-
prehensiUe. This, I felt, was the way a tigress might
fight for her brood, the way a cave-man might battle
for his threatened mate. Nor did that fight end until
the big blond form towered triumphant above the
darker clad figure.

Then I looked back at the woman, startled by her
stillness through it all. She was leaning forward,
white, intent, with parted lips. In her eyes I seemed
to see uneasiness and solicitude and desobtion,
but above them all sbwly flowered a newer look, a
look of vague exultation as she gazed from the de-
feated man gasfnng and choking for breath to the
broad back of the shaggy-haired dressing-gown.

I had no chance to dwell on the puzzle of this, for
the man tnvfioptd in the shaggy-haired garment was
calling out to me.

*Tic him up," he called. 'Take the cartaia-con!»—
but tie him tight!"
"Do you know this man?" something in his tone

xi6 THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

h \

T|i

prompted me to ask, as I struggled with the heavy silk
curtain-cords.

"It's Hobbs."

"I know that, but who's Hobbs?"

"A servant dismissed a month ago ' was the
other's answer.

"Then possibly you know the woman?" I asked,
looking up.

"Yes, possibly I know the woman," he repeated,
standing before her and staring into her white and
desolate face. It took me a moment or two to finish
my task of trussing the wrists of the sullen and
sodden Hobbs. When I looked up the woman was
on her feet, several steps nearer the door.

"Watch that woman!" I cried. "She's got a load
of your loot on her!"

My words seemed merely to puzzle him. There was
no answering alarm on his face.

"What do you mean?" he inquired. He seemed
almost to resent my effort in his behalf. The woman's
stare, too, seemed able to throw hun into something
approaching a comatose state, leaving him pale and
helpless, as though her eye had the gift of some
hypnotic power. It angered me to think that some
mere accidental outward husk of respectability could
make things so easy for her. Her very air of false
refinement, I felt, would always render her vicious-
ness double-edged in its danger.

"Search her!" I cried. "Sec what she's got under
her waist there!"
He turned his back on me, deliberately, as though

■MM

THE OPEN DOOR

resenting my determination to dog him into an act
that was distasteful to him.

"What have you there?" he asked her, without
advancing any closer.

There was utter silence for a moment or two.

"Your letters," she at last answered, scarcely above
a whisper.

"What are they doing there?" he asked.

"I wanted them," was all she said.

"Why should you want my letters?" was his next
question.

She did not answer it. The man in the dressing-
gown turned and pointed to the inert figure of
Hobbs.

"What about him? How did A^ get here?"

"He must have followed me in from the street
when the door was unlocked. Or he may have come
in before I did. and kept in hiding sMiltwhere."

"Who left the door unlocked?"

"Simmonds."

"Why?"

"Because he could trust me!"

"■ here was a muffled barb in this retort, a batb which
I could not understand. I could see, however, that it
had its effect on the other man. He stared at the
woman with sudden altered mien, with a fooHsh drop
of the jaw which elongated his face and widened his
eyes at the same moment Then he wheeled on the
sullen Hobbs.

"HoBhi, you tied about kerr he cried, like a bHnd
man at last lacing the light

^^^^Sb mSrZj iS^ -"

iiiiMhliiliiiMHlU

ii8 THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

He had his hand on the bound and helpless burglar's
throat

"Tell me the truth, or by the living God, I'll kill you !
You lied about her?"

"About what?" temporized Hobbs.

"You know what!"

Hobbs, I noticed, was doing his best to shrink back
from the throttling fingers.

"It wasn't my fault!" he equivocated.

"But you lied?"

Hobbs did not answer, in words. But the man in
the dressing-gown knew the answer, apparently, be-
fore he let the inert figure fall away from his grasp.
He turned, in a daze, back to the waiting and watching
woman, the white-faced woman with her soul in her
eyes. His face seemed humUled, suddenly aged with
some graying blight of futile contrition.

The two staring figures appeared to sway and waver
toward each other. Before I could understand quite
what it all meant the man had raised his arms and
the woman had crept into them.

"Oh, Jim, I've been such a fooir* I heard her
waiL And I could see that she was going to cry.

I knew, too, that that midnight of blunders had left
me nothing to be proud of, that I had been an idiot
from the first— and to make that idiocy worsen I
was now an intruder.

"Ill sl^ down and look after that pHociing," I
mumbled, so abashed and humiliated that as I groped
wearily out dirougfa the door I stumbled over the
Rttsstan-squirrel bundle which I had traced there with

THE OPEN DCX)R

119

my own hands. It was not until I reached the street
that I realized, with a gulp of relief, how yet another
night of threatening misery had been dissemUed and
lost in action, very much as the pills of childhood are
dissembled in a spoonful of jelly.

.' i

CHAPTER V

THE MAN FROM MEDICINE HAT

r ^^J ^ ^f "°^'"'"^ sun-parlor of mine, known
*to the world as Madison Square, demanding of the
quiet night why sleep should be denied me, and doing
my best to keep from thinking of Maiy Lockwood 1
sat there with my gaze fixed idly on a girl in black
who m turn, stared idly up at Sagittarius.

Then I lost interest in the blacksdad and seemmgly
catelep^c star-^er For I was soon busy watch^g
LT JTu^ '""^^ ^dAooldng velour hat My eyes
foUowed hun from the moment he first turned eit-
ward out of Fifth Avenue. They were stiU on him as
wherT lIL^^^ ^^^ ^ southward again into the square
The pure juml^sness of his movements arrested my
attention. The figure that drifted listlessly in past
the Farragut Statue and wandered on under the ^k
^ces m some way reminded me of my owa I, too,
knew only too weU what it was to circle doggedl^ and
^illenly about like a beU-boy paging thrcorrM^rs
of night for that fugitive known as Sleep

I ^ \ T'^"*?' *° ''**'^ ^*"' ^"^^y «»d closely.
I had lost my interest in the white-faced giri who
sat withm twenty paces of me, looking, silent and
still, up at the autumn stars.
It was the man's figure, thereafter, that chaHenged

I20

THE MAN FROM MEDICINE HAT 121

my attention, for this man marked the only point of
movement in what seemed a city of the dead. It was,
I remembered, once more long past midnight, the
hour of suspended life in the emptied canyons of
the lamp-strung streets when the last taxi had htmimed
the last reveler home, and the first milk-wagons had
not yet rattled up from the East River ferries.

So I sat there listlessly watching the listlessly mov-
ing figure with the wide hat-brim pulled down over its
face. There was something still youthful about the
man, for all the despondent droop to the shoulders. I
asked myself idly who or what he could be. I
wondered if, like myself, he was merely hatmted by
the curse of wakefulness, if the same bloodhounds
of unrest dogged him, too, through the dark hours of
the night. I wondered if he, too, was trying to esc£^
from the grinding machinery of thought into some
outer passivity.

I saw him thread his indeterminate way along the
winding park walks. I saw him glance wearily up
at the massive austerity of the Metropolitan Tower,
and then turn and gaze at the faded Diana so un-
concernedly poised above her stolen Sevillian tur-
rets. I saw him look desolately about the square with
its bench-rows filled with huddled and motionless
sleepers. These sleepers, with their fallen heads and
twisted limbs, with their contorted and moveless
bodies, made Ae half-lit square as horrible as a bat-
tlefield. Qouded by the heavy shadows of the park
trees, they seemed like the bodies of dead men, like
broken and sodden things over which had ground

133 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

tiie wheels of carnage. The only iminnur or sound of
life was the fountain, with its column of slowly rising
and slowly falling water, like the tired polse-beat of
the tired city.

The man in the velour hat seemed to find some-
Ain£: companionable in this movement, for he slowly
drew nearer. He came within three benches of where
I sat Then he flung himself down on an empty
seat I could see his white and haggard fece as he
watched the splashing fountain. I could sec his
shadowy and unhappy eyes as he pushed back his hat
and mopped his moist forehead Then I saw him
suddenly bury his head in his hands and sit there,
minute by minute, without taav'mg.

When he made his next movement, it was a start-
ling one. It sent a tingle of nerves scampering up
and down my backbone. For I saw his right hand
go down to his pocket, pause there a moment, and
then suddenly lift again. As it did so my eye caught
the white glimmer of metal. I could see the flash of
a revolver as he thrust it up under the hat-brim, and
held the nickeled barrel close against his temple,
just above the lean jaw-tr>ne.

It was so sudden, so unexpected, that I must hav«
closed my eyes in a sort of mvoluntary wince. The
first coherent thought that came to me was that I
could never readi him in time. Some soberer second
thought was to the effect that even my interference
was useless, that he and his life were his own, that
a man once set on self-destruction will not be kept
from it by any outside mfluence

THE MAN FROM MEDIQNE HAT 123

Yet even as I looked again at his huddled figure, I
heard his Uttle gasp of something that must have been
between fear and defeat I saw the arm slowly sink
to his side. He was looking straight before him, his
unseeing eyes wide with te tor and hazy with inde-
cision.

It was then that I decided to interfere. To do so
seemed only my plain and decent duty. Yet I hesi-
tated for a moment, pondering just how to phrase
my opening speech to him.

Even as I took a sudden, deeper hreaih of resota-
tion, and was on the point of crossing to his side, I
saw him fling the revolver vehemently from him.
It went glimmering and tumWing along the coppery-
green grass. It lay there, a point of high light against
the darkness of the turf.

Then I looked back to the stranger, and saw his
empty hands go up to his face. It was a quiet and
yet a tragic gesture of utter misery. Each palm was
pressed m on the corded cheek-bones, with the finger-
ends hard against the eyeballs, as though that futile
pressure could crush away all inner and all outer
vision.

Then I turned back toward the fallen revolver. As
I did so I noticed a figure in black step quiedy out
and pick up the firearm. It was the white-faced giri
who had sat looking t^ at the stars. Before I fully
realized the meaning of her moven^nt, she slipped the
weapon out of sight, and passed silently on down the
winding asphalt walk, between the rows of siegers,
toward the east There was somethmg arresting in

124 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

the thin young figure, something vaguely purposeful
ind appealing in the poise of the half-veikd head

1 vaallated for a moment, undecided as to which
to approach. But a second glance at the man in the
vclour hat. crouched there in his utter and impassive
misery, caused me to cross over to him.

I put a hand on his flaccid shoulder, and shook it
He did not move at first, so I shook him again. Then
he directed a slow and Vesentful glance at me.

I want to have a talk with you," I began, puzzled
as to how to proceed He did not answer mT^

W i.T'f ^'^^^"^ '^ ^ '^" ^ txphdn^, as I still
let my hand rest on his shoulder.

"Oh. go 'way!" he ejaculated.* in utter listlessness.
shaking my hand from his shoulder

"No I won't ri quite firmly infonned him. He
shrank back and moved away. Then he turned on
me with a resentment that was volcanic.
"For God's sake leave me alone!" he cried
A sleeper or two on near-by benches sat up and
stared at us with their drowsily indifferent eyes.

th J' rdllrd.'^" "^"" ^ '"^^ °^ ''^^'' '^^
"That's my own business," he retorted.
Then you intend to keep it up?" I inquired.
No, I don't," he flung back. "/ can't.'*

"Then will you be so good as to talk to me r His
sullen anger seemed strangely removed from that
saltation which tradition imputes to last moments.
It evren took an effort to be patient with him.

No. I won't," was his prompt retort It dampened

THE MAN FROM MEDIQNE HAT las

an the quixotic fires in my body. Then he roie to
his feet and confronted me. "And if you don't get
out of here, I'U kUl you!"

His threat, in some way, struck me as funny. I
laughed out loud.

But I did not waste further time on him.

I was ah-eady thinking of the other figure, the equall/
mysterious and more appealing figure in blade.

I swung round and strode on through the tren just
in time to see that somber and white-faced young
woman cross Madison Avenue, and pass westward be-
tween a granite-columneu church and the towering
obelisk of a more modem god of commerce. I kept my
eyes mi this street-end as it swallowed her up. Then I
passed out through the square and under the ck)$k-
dial and into Twenty-fourth Street

By the time I had reached Fourth Avenue I again
caught «ght of the black-dad figure. It was movmg
eastward on the south side of the 8treet,'as unhurried
and impassive as a sleep-walker.

When half-way to Lexington Avenue I saw the
woman stop, look slowly round, and then go slowly
up the steps of a red-bride house. She did not ring,
I could see, but let herself in wiA a pass-key. Once
the door had closed on her, I sauntered toward this
house. To go lartfaer at sudi an hour was out of
the question. But I made a careful note of the street
number, and also of the fact that a dip of paper pasted
on the sandstone door-post announced the fact of
"Furnished Ro(»ns."

I saw, not only that little was to be gained theie,

I I

^ 11

ia6 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

^ ahk) that I had faced my ucond diwppolntmeiit
fi)0 1 promptly swung back to Madison Square and the
fountam where I had left the man in the vdou; hat
I ran my eye from bench to bench of rfeepere, but he
w not among them. I went over the parte, walk by
w^, but my seareh was unrewarded. Then I drded
about into Broadway, widening my radius of inspec
toon. I Auttled back and forth along the side-streets.
I veered up and down the neighboring avenues. But
It was useless. The man in the veteur hat was gone.
Then, to my surprise, as I paced the midnight
streets, a sense of physical weariness crept over me. I
reahzed that I had walked for miles. I had forgotten
my own troubles and that most kindly of aU narcotics,
utter fatigue, crept through me like a drug.

So I went home and went to bed. And for the first
time that week I felt the Angel of Sleep stoop over
ine of her own free will For the first time that week

thCTe WM no need of the bitter ladi of chloral hydrate
to beat back the bloodhounds of wakefulness. I fefl
OTto a sound and unbroken slumber, and when I woke
up, Benson was waiting to announce that my bath
was ready.

Two hours later I was ringing die bell of a certain
old-fashioned red-brick apartment-house in East
Twcnty^fourth Street I knew Uttfe enough about
such places, but this was one obvkmsly uninviting;
from the rusty hand-rail to the unwashed window
drapwies. Equafly unprepossessing was the corpokirt
and dead-eyed landlady in her faded bhie house-
wrapper; and equaOy dqnssing dkl I feid 4e dat-

THE MAN FROM MEDIQNE HAT u?

ternly and bAred-anned tenrant w^o was dd^iated
to lead me up through the musty-smdtiiig halls. The
third-floor front, I was mformed, waa the only room
in the house empty, though iu rear neighbor, which
was a bargain at two doUan and a half a week, waa
soon to be vacated.

I took the third-floor front, without so mndi as
one searching k>ok at its hidden beauties. The lady
of the faded blue wrapper emitted her first spark
of life as I handed over n^ four dollars. The list-
less eyes, I couM see, were touched with regret at the
thought that she had not asked for morfc I tried to
cxpUun to her, as she exacted a deposit for my pass-
key, that I was likely to be irregular in my hours and
perhaps a \M peculiar in n^ halnts.

These intimations, however, had no ponderaMe ef-
fect upon her. She first abashed me l^ stowing the
money away in the depths of her open corsage, and
then perplexed me by dedaring that all she set out to
do, since her legs went bade on her, was to keep her
first two floors decent. Above that, apparently, de-
portment could look after itsdf, the upper regioiu
beyond her ken could be Olympian m tiieir moral laxi-
ties.

As I stood there, smilmg over tiiis discovery, a

figure m black rustled down the narrow stairway and

edged past us in the half-lit halL
The light fen full on her lace as ^ opened the door

to the street It outfined her figure, as Am as that of

a medieval sahit from a missal It was the young

woman I had followed from Madison Square;

hi
i

ia8 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

Of tWt I WM cert*Jn-.f rom the moment the Mt
ifjm her thm<heeked face, where ««iety JS

to heve pomted the «,ft oval of the chin into ««.e.
ti^mjA-lilce in it. diaipne... About her. ^

b^ the f^ thet her eye. were the mo« ni,^

if **' ' "P*"* ^* bewildered and baffled. But I
c^iMijee that Aewa., or that she had beT^
^toftd yowig woman, though still again the slcnder-

^f *»« fi««* made me think of a Mdnt from a

a^ slatternly servant up the dark stairs Once in

ZrTn^*"^ ^ ***~^ "^^^ -^ « the sul.
Jur-yenow wallpaper and the mehncholy antiquities
Aat masqueraded as furniture. Then I «ime bSdTto
the issue at hand. ^^ ^

"Who is thjrt young woman in Mack who happened
to^^ us in the ha«r I casually inqui«d. ^^

T^oft^hare^armedgirL I turned to u«Xthe
nwamng of this obvious cc^uialism.

™^T' **** *^*. ^^* ^^" *^^ °V newfound and
cyw«J young fnend. "She ain't d«it kind."

ata^'^ *'^' l"*^ " ' »^^ • «» "to the
Jtortled and somewhat incredulous hand of toil The
transformation was immediate

"She ain't nothing was the answer. "She's just
afour.flush.aadsc^ranf Ami unless die sq«^ ^
the madam by Saturday she's g«n' to do W^'
m somebody else's bath-tub I"

THE MAN FROM MEDICINE HAT 139

Through this sordid quartz of calkMuncis ran one
silver streak of hick. It wat plain that I was to be
on the same floor with the girl in Mack. And that
discovery seemed quite enough.

I waited until the maid was lost in the gteom below-
stairs and the house was quiet again. Then I cahnly
and quietly stepped out into the little hall, pushed open
the door of the rear room, and slipped inside. I ex-
perienced, as I did so, a distinct and quite pleasurable
quickening of the pulse.

I found myself in a mere cell of a rown, with two
dormer windows fadng a disorderly vista of chimney-
pots and brick walls. On the sill of one window
stood an abnost empty milk4x)ttle. Beside the other
window was a trunk mariced with the initials "H. W."
and the pretty-nearly obliterated words "Medicine

Hat."

About the little room brooded an almost forlorn
air of neatness. On one wall was tacked a picture
postcard inscribed "In Ae Devil's Pool at Banff." On
another was a ranch scene, an unnKranted jrfiotogr^ih
whidi showed a laughing and dear-browed girl on a
white-dappled pinto. On the chintz-covered bureau
stood a half-filled ca. jm of soda^biscuits. Beside this,
again, lay an empty candy-box. From tl» mirror of
this bureau smiled down a face that was familiar to
me. It was a magazine-print of Harriet Walter, the
young Broadway star who had reached success with
the production of Broken Tits, the same Harriet
Walter who had been duly announced to many Percy
Adams, the son of the Traction Magnate. My own

[;«: ,;v,««.^Pl

130 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

den, I remembered, held an autographed copy of the
same picture.

Beyond this, however, the room held little of inter-
est and nothing of surprise. Acting on a sudden and
a possibly fooUsh impulse, after one final look at the
room and its record of courageous struggles, I took a
bank-note from my waistcoat pocket, folded it, opened
the top drawer of the bureau and dropped the biU into
it. Then I stood staring down into the still open
drawer, for before me lay the revolver whidi the girl
had carried away the night before from Malison
Square.

In a few moments I went back to my own room and
sat down in the broken-armed rocking-chair, and tried
desperately to find some key to the mystery. But no
light came to me.

I was stiU puzzled over it when I heard the sound
of steps on the uncarpeted stairway. They were very
slow and faltering steps. As I stood at the half-opened
door hstening, I felt sure I heard the sound of some-
tiung that was half-way between a sob and a ga^.
Then came the steps again, and then the sound of
heavy breathing. I heard the rustle of paper as the
door of the back room was pushed open, and then
the quick slam of the door.

This was foUowed by a quiet and almost inarticulate
cry. It was not a call, and it was not a moan. But
what startled me into sudden action was the noise
Aat followed. It was a sort of soft-pedaled thud, as
though a body had fallen to the floor.
I no longer hesitated. It was dear that something

THE MAN FROM MEDICINE HAT 131

was wrong. I ran to the closed door, knocked on it,
and a moment later swung it open.

As I stepped into the room I could see the girl lying
there, her upturned face as white as chalk, with Muish-
gray shadows about the closed eyes. Beside her on
the floor lay a newspaper, a flaring head-lined after-
noon editicm.

I stood staring stupidly down at the white face for a
moment or two before it came to me that the girl had
merely fallen m a faint. Then, seeing the slow beat
of a pulse in the thin throat, I dropped on one knee
and tore open the nedc of her blouse. Then I got
water from the stoneware jug on the wash-stand and
sprinkled the placid and colorless brow. I could see,
as I lifted her up on the narrow white bed, how blood-
less and ill-nurtured her body was. The girl was half
starved ; of that there was no sUadow of doubt

She came to very slowly. As I leaned over her,
waiting for the heavy-lidded eyes to open, I let my
glance wander back to the newspaper on the floor. I
there read that Harriet Walter, the young star of the
Broken Ties Company, had met with a serious acci-
dent It had occurred while riding down Momingsidc
Avenue in a touring-car driven by Percy Alward
Adams, Ae son of the well-known Tractkm Mag-
nate. The brake had apparently refused to work on
Cathedral Hill, and le car had collided with a pillar
of the Elevated Railway at the comer of One-hundred-
and-ninth Stitet Adams himself had escaped with a
somewhat lacerated arm, bat lim Walter's injuries
were more serious. She had been taken at once to St

5-^^

132 THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

Luke's Hospital, but a few blocks away. She had not,
however, regained consciousness, and practically all
h<^ of recovery had been abandoned by the doctors.
I was f renziedly wondering what tie could bind these
^o strangely diverse young women together when
the girl beside me gave signs of returning life. I was
still sousmg a ridiculous amount of water on her face

and neck when her eyes suddenly opened. They looked
up at me, dazed and wide with wonder.

"Wl^t is it?" she asked, gazing about the room,
ihen she looked back at me again.

«p1 ^J^/*^" °»"st ha^e fallen." I tried to explain.
But Its aU right; you mustn't worry."
My feeble effort at reassuring her was not effective.
1 could see the perplexed movement of her hands the
unuttered mquirjr still in her eyes. She lay there, star-
ing at me for a long time.

"You see. I'm your new neighbor," I told her, "and
i heard you frotr my room."

She did not speak. But I saw her lips pucker into
a little sob that shook her whole body. There seemed
•something indescribably childlike in the movement It
took a fig^t to keep uf- ^r of bland optimism.

^ And now." I dec: . : I'm going to slip out for a
minute and get you a J wine."

She made one small haiid-gesture of protest, but I
Ignored it I dodged in for my hat. descended the
stairs to the street, got Benson on the wire; and in-
structed him to send the motor-hamper and two bot-
ties of Burgundy to me at once. Then I called up St
Lukes Hospital There, strangely enough, I was re-

THE MAN FROM MEDICINE HAT 133

fused all information as to Harriet Walter's condition.
It was not even admitted, in fact, that she was at
present a patient at that institution.

The girl, when I got back, was sitting in a roddng-
chair by the window. She seemed neither relieved nor
disturbed by my return. Her eyes were fixed on the
blank wall opposite her. Her colorless face showed
only too plainly that this shock from which she had
suffered had left her indifferent to all other currents of
life, as though every further stroke of fate had been
rendered insignificant. She did not even turn her eyw
when I carried the hamper into the room and opened
It She did not look up as I poured the wine and held
a glass of it for her to drink.

She sipped at it absenUy, brokenly, remindrng me of
a bird drinking from a saucer-edge. But I made her
take more of it. I persisted, until I could see a famt
and shell-like tinge of color creep into her chedcs.

Then she looked at me, for the first time, with com-
prehending and strangely grateful eyes. She made a
move, as though to speak. But as she did so I could
see the quick gush of tears that came to her eyes and
her gesture of hopelessness as she looked down at the
newspaper on the floor.
"Oh, I want to die I" she cried brokenly and weakly.

"I want to die!"

Her words both startled and perplexed me. Here,
within a few hours' time. I was encountering the second
young person who seemed tired of Ufe, who was rea^
and willing to end it

"What has happened?" I asked, as I held more of

MMHrH

1
1

ill

',ir|

**^

*'/

134 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

AcBuiignindyoutforhcrtodrink. Then I picked up
the afternoon paper with the flaring head-lines.

She pointed with an unsteady finger to the paper in
my hands. ^^

*'Do you know her?" she asked.

"Yes, I happen to know her," I admitted.

"Have you known her long?" asked the girl

'Only a couple of years," I answered. "Since she
first went with Frohman."

The possible truth flashed over me. They were sis-
ters That was the strange fe that bound them to-
geaier ; one the open and flashing and opulent, and the
other the broken and hidden and hopeless.
"Do you know Harriet Walter?" I asked

She laughed a little, forlornly, bitterly. The wine. I
imagined, had rather gone to her head

de^bi^o^^*' ^^^^*^' " "^^ ^^^ '°'"^^** '^""^
She was stiU shaken and ill, I could see. I took the
Burgundy glass from her hand. I wanted her mind
to remain lucid. There was a great deal for me stiU
to fathom.

''And they say she's going to die ?" she half declami.
fcUf mquired, as her eyes searched my face.
But what wiU it mean to you?" I demanded

She seemed not to have heard; so I repeated the
<]uesti(m.

thi7V^*^ ^ ^^" '^* '°^^' "*^* ^ **^ *'^-

"Butwhy?"Iinsistcd.

She covered her &ce with her hands.

THE MAi: FROM MEDICINE HAT i35

"Oh. I can't tell you!" she moaned. "I can't

explain." .

••But there must be some good and defimte reason
why this young woman's death should end cverythmg

for you." . .

The girl looked about her, Uke a Ufe-i»isoner facmg
the four blank walls of a cell Her face was without
hope. Nothing but utter misery, utter despair, was

written on it

Then she spoke, not directly to me, but more as
though she were speaking to herself.

"When she dies, I die toot"

I demanded to know what this meant I tned to
burrow down to the root of the mystery. But my
efforts were usdess. I could wring nothing more out
of the unhappy and tragic-eyed girl. And the one
thing she preferred just then, I realized, was soUtude.

So I withdrew. ^ ,. *^

The entire situation, however, proved rather too
much for me. The more I thought it over the more
it began to get on my nerves. So I determmed on a
prompt right-about-face. I decided to begin at the
other end of the line.

My first move was to phone for the car. LatreiUe
came pron^tiy enough, but with a look of sophisti-
cation about his cynical mouth whidi I couldn't hdp

resenting.
"St Luke's Hospital," I told him as I stuped into

At that institutfon, however, I was agun refused
all informatkm as to the condition of Hanfet Waher.'

!. ^

|i: !

'36 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

'Z, ^ "y .»^ I-rson wa, fa the h«pHaI.

^T . J 'I* "«'" •* ""O" "f her condition."

Th« yonng lady seems to have very mmy friends

And^e of them seem to be ve,y ^^ """^

What do yon mean by that?" I demanded. For

'There's another of these friends who've been in-
^ZZT"' ■"'•" "' "P-^ w^-. • *™, o"f

whUl! Tl°™^. *'""*"* o^ «^' "tolized and
wh t^walW temple of pafa mnst have seen my s^rt

^ to^r " "^ '^"'^ P^^ '^ For it
w» *at of a young man wearing a velour hat It
^e youti. I had met the nigh7befo« in ZsJl

;^ yon hippen to Imow that man's name?" I asked.
ais^A " MaUot^^Jame, M.IU»y." was a«

I i?^? """ "'"" '""^ *<»« '•«P«"fap wans.
I w« gW to g« oat to the street, to the <^1S

«d the d.«. afternoon sunlight I had al«^ de-
aded on my next step.

Whefter the man in the velour hat recogniied me
or not, I could not say. If he did h. <I™T^ ■ !

him. although he showed no 8UT,rise as I did so W
iiame. It was not until I point-blank asked if he had

THE MAN FROM MEDiaNE HAT 137

been inquiring about Harriet Walter that any trace
of interest came into his face.

He rq>lied, with oonstderabie ferocity, that he had.
One glinipae of the unsteady fingers and twitching
eyelids showed me the tensicm under whidi he was
struggling. I felt genuinely sorry for hun.

"I happen to know Miss Walter/' I told him, "and if -
you'll be so good as to step in nay car, I can tell you
anything you may want to know."

'Is your name Adams?" the white-faced youth sud-
denly donaiuied.

"It is not," I answered, with considerable alacrity,
for his face was not pleasant to lock at

"Then why can you tell me what I want tc. know?"
he asked, still eying me with open hostility. I strug-
gled to keep my temper. It was a case where one coukl
afford to be indulgoit

"If we each have a friend in this lady, it's not un-
reasonable that we should be able to be friends our-
selves," I told him. "So let's dear the cobwebs by
a spin down-town."

"Gasoline won't wash my particular cobwebs away,"
he retorted. There was something likable about his
audacious young f ac^ even under its cloud of bitter-
ness.

"Then why couldn't you dine with me, at a very
quiet dub of mine?" I suggested. "Or, better stiU,
on the veranda of the Clairemont, where we can talk
together."

He hesitated at first, but under my pressure he
yidded, and we both got in the car and swung west-

138 THE BiAN WHO COULDJTT SLEEP

J«nI.«KltIi«upRiverMdetothcaain«ioiit There
iil^^I^i^r"**™*'?^*'''*-*^' overlooWng the river.
And there I exerted a dcm of whkh I had ooce beea
proud, m ordering a dinner which I thought migfat
appeal to the poignantfy unhappy young man who sat
across the table from me. I couW seeAat he w« sSl
^n""^ "^' ^ now and then, with both revolt
a^suUen bewiWerment written on hi. kan young

^^t^would be no easy matter, I knew, to XS

ih2^fr^^r\ ^ ^"* °^* ^« ^ «^ of

them J he suddenly demanded. I noticed that he had
ah-eady taken his third drink of wine.

"Why should I thmk that?"

*Tye had enough to make me crazy r he ejacuhted,
with that abject self-pity which marks the Lt nS
stone on the avenue of hope.

"Periiai» I could help you,- I suggested. "Or per-
haps I could advise you.** *^

"What good's advice when you're up against what
I m up agamstr was his embittered retort

He was apparently findmg relief in the Pommeiy.
I found a compensating reKef in merely behoWiii

that look of haunted and abject misery gomg out^
young eyes. ' » *s tttwxaw

"Then ten me what the trouble is," I said
^He still shook his head. Then he suddenly looked

"How long have you known Harriet Walter?" he
asked.

"From the time," I toM him, after a momenfa

THE MAN FROM MEIHCINE HAT 139

thought, **^rhea ihe first tspptutd for the Frah Air
Fund »t the Plaza. That waa about two ycm tf©—
when the first went with Fidman."

"I've known her for twenty years r* was the youth's
unexpected exdamation. '*We grew vp togcUier, out

West"

"Where out Westr I asked.

'In Medidne Hat— 4hat's a Canadian prairie town."

**But she's younger than you?"

"Only two years. She's twenty^wo; Tm twenty-
four. She chsmged her name from Wilson to Walter

when she went on the stage."

"Then you are dose friends?" I ariced, for I could
see the wine had k)osened his reticent young tongue.

"Friends r he scoffed. "I'm Ae man she promised
to marryr^

Here, I told myself, was a pretty kettle of fish. I
knew the man before me was not Adams. Yet it was
several weds now since Harriet Walter's engagement
to young Ad»ns had been dfidally amuMmced. And
there was noting unable or predaceous about tiie
Harriet Walter I had known.

"Would you mind tdling me just when she promised
to marry you?" I asked. "Remember, this is not pry-
ing. I'm only trying to get bdiind that cobwdk"

"She i»ondsed me over two years ago»" he answered

me, quite c^ienly.

"Definitely?" I insisted.

"As ddaite as pel ai^ hdc €0^ ffidee It. E^en he-
fore she gave in, before die gave the proniae, we'd
had a sort of understaiMfing. That w^s before I made

:i I-

«♦> THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

EL*l!!^^r'*v "^ «* Wot She'd come

wouU aake . g«,t KtwM. We iJI tried to keel h^
f «» It, but d» «ad it WM her c««^ Iffi^

So I cBne throiigh to New Yofk «Hl „,«,d to ute
•"T b«k. to get h«: out of ril th« «« oHlr ^

a!^^ -^ "'™' •■»•*«« for one year more:

I ll*^^'* ■** ^""^ *• «^ y«x>'v« given her?"
I"^, ,««nberin«: the .udden f J? uj^

«"» to her, the n«ne in electrics over the Bra^^

^^i^ra^'*-"^'^--

riZ ^i, . ""•*^ «wo yean, irfter she'd

STto^ T^ '^'' «^«» round «Kl pron^
wd to marry this man Adamsr

And has she never explained ?"

"Explained? She won't see me. Shehadn»~„

^^hotet ShewentofftoNa^^"!:

P«^ded she doesn't even know mt"

Jl:r1Se-SL.^t,e«trX'
-^^^ortreache^^i,^.^^"^

"And what did >Tm do?" I asked.

THE MAN FROM MEDICINE HAT 141

**WluiteoiildIdo? I wtitod and trM again. Ifdt
that if I could only Me her lace to face ihe'd be able
to explain, to make the whole thing aeem leaf like
intaniW."
"And the wouldn't even lee you, meet your
'^otonce. Something*! let her agaimt me; tone-
thing*! changed her. She never used to be that aort—

never r
"And you inaist all thia ia without fhyme or reaaon ?"

''Without one jot of reaaon. Thaf a what made it
iobopelesa. And laat night when I heard of this acci-
dent I put my pride in my pocket, and tried still again.
It was the same thing over again. They seemed to take
me for a crank, or paranoeic of some kind, up there
at the hoapitaL And then I gave t^ I felt I'd about
reached the end of my rope I thought it all over,
quite cafanly, and decided to end everything. I walked
the streeu half the night, then I sat down and deckled
to bkm mf braina out But I coukbi't do it I waa
too much of a coward. I hadn't the courage."

"That woukl have been very fooUsh," waa my in-
adecpiate rq>ly, for at a bound my thoc^ts went back
to ^e night before and the scene in die square.

"Well, what would yon have done?" was the prompt
and bitter chidknge of the unhappy youA fachig me

I thought for a momeitt bdore attempting to
anawer him.

"Why," I temporized, "I'd have tried to get down
to the root of the mystery. Fd have made some eftvt
to find out the reason for it; for e v ery thin g aeems to
have a reason, you know."

•at-

141 THE MAN WHO COUUWT SLEEP

2^'» » rewon." be declai^I.
^^ mut be," I miUntained.

H« studifd my face with hi tired and «
two broken storici tof^ther. It was not eX^

Imtewl of anweriiig hir I loot.,, p. (! -d oy _
oa tan Md Mtad mother q«.tic«. ^^

Teil nw this ; i£ ftmt a m. n^auM .1^ .^.t.
for herr ^^ «> ou stUI ctre

JJ^«««ited the qnesticm. a ^ w«s af rai f he woold.

JWhat concern is that of youn-' ~ 'w*'**-

Wall this things a niisnyte, it's ^mng to I «».

«»ceniofyonrF ItoWhan. 5 « l some

He Itt :me M do^ «leiK;e for a rrmM.*. *_

««-_. , '»«w«.c lor a mmite or two

lie al- ays aw^d f or Iim- i^ — 4 ^ "■ *wo.

^ M ™a«rer as goit^ t be before he spoke
"B»Jt ifs no tise. t's aU over It', nv^ !!• V^
with. Th#r-»» ««* •" cr. us over and done
wim. liieres not even i raistake bout it**

JTh« ^ be A.a I'm goin, .. H.^ «« ^fcere
"^^ ^ you going to feKl that otttr he

THE MAN FROM BIEmcmB HAT I43

•*Ce«t«Ioi«wiAii»."Icfl«l»litiltL .
ly, ; mtle fxdtttBy, -uidhftta o'doclc to-oiglil FB
have yomt rcuon for your

My fltsli4ii-<h*fMi cnttnulaim wm ihorter Mv«a
thM I had expected. The tlnglNr »«* wtee-lUce
wamith soon dii^pearcd. A rtactioo ad in. once
we weie out In the cod night air. And in that ftac-
tion I becan to lee difficnities, to manhd doofala
and mitgivinga.

The tu iBckw crept over me tiiat, aftfr all, I might
have been .aflong to a man with a sBgfatfy tmb a hnwid
mind. Driawon^ wdi aa Wa, I knew, were not tm-
comnoo. There were pkmy of amiahle cianiBa who
carried lAout lorae fixed conviction of Aeir on»4ime
intimate ^iwdation with Ae pent, tfae^tttod bdief
that they are the oppreseed and w iiwn gni ied Iricnda

of ear^'- de<^

Yi-t « did not Jtogether fiS the Wll; it coifld
not ex iway everything. There waa itiU the

mystery girl in Ae Twenty-fourth Street rooro-

fog-house here waa stiU the enigma of two per-
sons dainung to be Harriet Walter.

On my way down to Aat roomii**oose an idea
occurred to me It prompted me to atep in at my
dub for a minute or two, kavhig Mallofy in the car.
Then I do<^ bade to the readmg-room, took down
from its Adf a Who's Who <m ih* Stage, and
turned up the name of Harriet Walter.

There, to my discomfiture, I read tfiat
Walter's fanrfly name was recorded as "K^^
instead of beii^ a Canadian, and bom and I

(

144 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

lu the western town of Medicine Hat, as young Mal-
loiy had claimed, her birthplace was recorded as Lan-
sing. Michigan. She had been educated at the Gilder

at the Wh^Uey Dramatic School in New York. From
tiiere she had gone on the stage, taking suaD parts,
birt soon convincing her management that she waTci
P^e of better things. In little over a year she had
been made a star in the Broken Ties production.

far^'rc^ t^ " °''^^ after all, had not been so
cL^This'^U^"^"^^^-^^-

It was, however, too late to tura bacfe And there
was suD the other «d^^^

I «hmd young MaUoor up the musty stair, to my
^rd-floor room, and seated hhn with a dgar and a
mgazine be^een those four bald and dq«.e.«ng wans
with th«rsulphur<oIored paper. Then 1 1^ out-
side, «id carefufly closed the door after mTTto I
crossed the haH to the girl's room and knocked.
^«* wa^ «uwer, so I opened the door and

^ ^r i^.TuTf"***^- A lense of frus-
tration, of defeat, of helpl«s«»e«K »wq* through me.

This wm. followed by a feeling of ate^TSJ^
sion that I might, after aH, be too late ^^

I cTOtted tiie room with a sudden premom'tion of
ewL Then I turned on the light and pulled open
the top drawer of the chmti-covered bureau TThl^
lay my bank-note. And beside it. I noticed, with a
sense of relief, still Uiy the revoher.

I took the weapon up and looked it over, hesitat-

THE MAN FROM MEDIQNE HAT 145

ing whether or not to unload it I still held it in mjr
hand, staring down at it, when I heard the creak of
the door behind me. It was followed by a sudden
and quite audible gasp of fris^t

It was the owner of the room herself, I saw, the
moment I swung around. It was not so mudi terror
in her eyes, by this time, as sheer surprise.

"What are you ddng here?" she 'asked, with a
quaver of bewildennent

"111 answer that when you answer a question of
mine," I temporized, as I held the revolver up before
her. **Where did you get thisr

She did not speak for a second or two.

**Why are you spying on me like this?** she sud-
denly demanded. She sank into a chair, pulling ner-
vott^ at her pair of worn gloves.

**Yoo msist on knowing?" I asked.

•Tve a right to know."

"Because you are not Harriet Walter," was the
answer I sent bullet-like at her.

She raised her eyes to mine. There was neither
anger nor resentment on her face. All I could see
was utter weariness, utter tn^;edy.

*'I know," she said. She spoke very qtdetly. Some-
thing in her voice sent a stab of pity through me.

•Tm only trymg to help you," I toM her. "I only
want to dear t^ this maddening muddle."

"You can't," she saM very simply. «It*8 too late."

"It's not too later I blindly persisted.
"What do you kasm ibo&t it?" was her Ustkss and
weary retort

146 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

•«wer I kixw where thi, re»ol«r aune f ran, j J
jwi came to using it.

She covered her face with her hands. Then she
dipped them to her side, with a gesture of hopel^

^ "Oh theyH aU know now !'* she moaned. "I knew
It would come some day. And I haven't the strength
to face It— I haven't the strength!"

I felt, in some way, that the moment was a climactic
one. *-•••«,«*.

"But how did it begin?" I asked more genthr, as

.n7l^ *^° ^'*" *^'" ** ^«* on in her tired
and throaty monotone. "It began when I saw I was
a failure, when I reaUzed that aU was useless, that I'd
wade a mistake." «»."«« x a

^^ "^r ^ ^^^^^' ^ in the dark.
TJc mistake I wasn't brave enough to face. I
thought it was the Ufe I was made f^. that^d

^ ri!;!!r* "JL**^ Even *e couldn't u^r.
•tond.Ithottght Then they let me come. I worked

ojj so harf! And when I left the s^I aiT^d
jet was a place in the chorus. I was ashamed to tell

«V«^^Ioj,ghttopveitr HekeptasWngnU

defeat I still thought my chanct /ouM come: I few*
asking for more time." ^

THE MAN FROM MEDICINE HAT i%7

"And then?" I prompted.

"Then I couldn't even stay at the work I had. It
became impossible; I can't tell you why. Then I did
anything, from extra woik with movuig pictures to
reader in the City Library classes. But I still kept
going to the agencies, to the Broadway offices, trying
to get a part And things dragged on and on. And
then I did this, this awful thing."

"What awful thing?" I asked, trying to bridge the
ever-recurring brcaVs in her thought Bat she ignored
the interruption.

**We'd studied together in the same classes at the
Wheatley School. And people had said we looked
alike. But she was bom for that sort of life, for
success. As I went down, step by step, she went up.
He wrote me Aat I nrast be getting famous, for he'd
seen my picture on a magazine-cover. It was hers. I
pretended it was mine I pieteaded I was doing the
things she was dwng. I let them believe I'd taken a
new name, m stage name. I sent them papers that told
of her success. I became a cheat, an impostor, a liv-
ing lie— I became Harriet Walterr

At last the light had come. I saw everything in a
flash. I suddenly realized the perplexities and pro-
f imdities of human Hfe. I felt shaken by a sudden
pity for these two bound and unhappy spirits, at that
moment so ctose together, yet groping so foolishly and
perversdy along their mote-iike traik

I was stin thinking of the irony of it all, of tfie two
broken and km^ yotmg five even i^ tfiat moment
umter the same roof, erased mder the weif^ ci

148 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

girl m the chair b^an to qieak again.

"It wa. terribfc," die w«t 00, in her passionate
T^^r^ !»• »«I of the whole comxiing bUght
LTl ^J"* " "«*« "«~' «<^ what .^ w^
«use. I dreaded ereiy advance dw nade. It wasn't

bhe seemed to be feeding <m m^ day by day, month
ly month. I Imew aU the tune that the WgbJ'J^
ftetow^Ih^ltodric Andnow.inadifferenTw^
:S'ur«StS?^*'™"~ Td«. eveiythin^:

"What is th«^ leftr wu fcr forlorn queor.

Xife-.n yoor «al Kfe This has beo, a sort of
»^tmare, but now ifs o«r. Now you can go bai
and begin over again.'' ** ^^

lJ''l^u^"^L S^ ^'^•P^J her thin hands hope,
lessly together. "And there's no one to eo ta"

« ;™^lf"^L^ -^'^ w«ting%??^:^ start
" ^n^ "^L^^i*^ ^ Bntlsawnone.

No. »he cned, *1ie'd hate and despise me."
'^fH^- "*? f~ ^"^ ^"^' I demanded.

I need him, she sobWngfy acknowledged. **Ye»-.
^. I alwayji cared for him. But he'd never under-
rtand. He'd never fonive me. He'« «^»-
from me." ^^ *'*'*y

"He's watting for you," I said,
litoodteolr^
Then I sUpped out of the room.

•t

THE MAN FROM MEDICINE HAT X49

I stepped in through my own door and dosed it
after me. Young Malloty, with his watch in his hand,
swung about from the window and faced me.

"Well, it's ten o'clock— and nothing's settled r

"It is settled," was my answer.

I led him across the quiet hall to ^ half-lit back

room.

I saw his startled and groping motion. Then I
heard his ay of **Harriel" and her answering cry of
"Jamie" as the white face, with its hunger and its
hs^ipiiMSS, kK^ced up into his.

Then I quietly stepped outside and closed the door,
Icavmg them atone. From that moment I was an out-
sider, an intruder. My part was over and done. But
the sight of those two young people, in each other's
arms, made my thoughts turn back to Mary Lockwood
and the happiness which h^ oeen lost out of my own
life. And I didn't akep so well that night as I had
hoped to.

MHHI

*>;.

CHAPTER VI

THE XHBSPEOACBABX.B BUTLIl

€€ A RE you waiting for some one, sir?"

^^ TTiat question, for all its veneer of
fulness, was only too intently a message of dismissaL
And I resented it, not cnily because it was an inq>erti-
noice, but more because it had driven out of my
drowsy brain a very beautiful picture of Mary Lode-
wood as she stooped over an old Italian table-cover
embroidered with gold gallocm.

"Are you waitii^ for iomt one?" rqteated tiiat
newly arrived all-n^t waiter, in no way impressed
by my silence.

"I am," I announced as I inspected him with open
disapproval I was dreamily wondering why, in the
name of common sense, waiters always dressed in si^
ridiculous and undecorative neckties.

This particular waiter, however, continued to re-
gard me out of a fishy and cynical eye. Then he
lodced at the clock. Then he locked at my empty
wine-cooler, plainly an advertisement of suq>ended
CBCuIation in the only fluid that seemed vital to him.

'^as it a lady?" he had the effrontery to inquire.

I could see his eyes rcMun about the adl but entity
room. It was the low-efab hour when a trolley car is
an event along the empty street, die hour when cf^isirs
wrt piled on caf^ taUes, the white corpuscles ot the

150

THE IRREPROACHAilLE BUTLER 151

milk wagoni begin to move ib mgh the dty'i ileeiiy
arteries, and tiiose fteel nerves known m telegraph
wires keep langmdly awake with the sugary thriUs of
their night letters.

"Yes. it wa dy,** I answered That wall-eyed
intruder knew ting of the heavenly supper I had
stumbled on in timt wicked French restaurant, or of
the fine and firm aw r<Migw* that had been unearned
from iu shabby cellar, or of my own peace of mind as

I sat there studying the empty metal cooler and pon-
dering how the mean and scabby wastes of Champagne
could mother an ichor so rich wiA singmg etherealities.

"Er— J««* '*•* °**8*»t ■** *<>* ^**» sir?** my tor-
mentor next adced of me, blinking about in a kwse
and largely condoning matter-of-factness as though in
placid search of some plumed and hnpeticnt demirep
awaitmg her diance to cross the bar of a cqn a mt a nce-
ship on the cardcss high tide of inebriacy.

"She moves very, very quietly, and has a star in her
hak," I replied to that fiih-eyed waiter. "Her breath
is soft and dewy, and her brow is hooded. And 'm
her hwds she carries a spny of poppJes."

The waiter kicked down at ase with tiiat hi^ersoaal
mikl pity with wWch it is man's wont to ww the
liarmlessly insane.

«Sa^." I sirfd w^ a smoAered yawn, "sur^
you him oNt hsr? S«^ 3PCNI have been coaackws

of those soft and sfaadowf V^ fuNr ^^o T^on ••
y«a HMitad iBl» her afnir

**Q^bt so, sir," uneas%^ ai&itt^ «^ wafi-eyed
ffknd. Then I began to retfae Aat he was waking

Li-

iSa THE MAN WHO CXHJLDNT SLEEP

«M ^ I gfw fdtffiil lest hit devMtirtiM invMlPB
•hoiiW frigfatm away the ttmoroot qnrit I had btn^
wooiiv as attklixmsfy at an angler wddqff hit fim
troutR».oiiek»ghoiir,witha£tiBbodyaiid«B
^ h«d, I had «t there rtaBdnt d«p „ artfully
a»da.arduoittlyathantimaiiever«talkedadeer. And

Iknew that if I moved from that tpot the chaie would
be over, for that nig^it at least

«s J'Sl!!*^ ***" ^ "^^^ **^'* ^ *«««^ «I^

coy. She denies herself to those who most passiooately i
demandher. Yet something tells me that she is hover-
ing near me at this moment, that she is about to bend
ovarme with those ineflftOrfe eyes if only I await the
golden mottwit And so, my dear sir, if you will take
Ais as a shght reward for your trouble^ and cover

to exceedingly soUed-looking divan in that exceed-

«n«rfy disrqmtaWe^ookkig alcove with a dean table.

doth, and then draw that curtain which is apparently
dengned to comrert it into a dbi»6f» ^^^

wiU be giving me a chance to consort with an amd of
fi^ousness more lovefy than a,^ meietricicwhLl
to ever soUed its fcMkd ptadi. And if I am kft^

interrupted until you go oflf In the mowiifc wur r».
ward will then be doubled." -— * yw t». ,

v,r"J^*l^»*»*'^»"'»l««ddownatd«i i
bill m his hand, that if this indeed were madness, toe
wasanntpq,ug,antsortofmethodmit ^

SohesetaboutinahalfdasedfiwhSoiidiwImrtiat ^
none too dean divan with a fe&le<lo&. maSTk "
act, lode uncomfortably like a bier. ThtthT

MBI

THE IRREPROACHABLE BUTLER IS3

my iMit and ftom and overcott to » chiir ^ tli« foot
ofthedhnn. Thm he took me by the tnn, fimify and

iolidtotttly.

His face, at I made my i»ay wHfaoat one ttagter or
Rd into tiiat shabby Kttle qidetode screened off from
the test of the world, was a stwfy in astonishment It

was plain Aat I poxried him. He even indn^ m a
second wondering j^ance bade al Ae *van Mhedrew
the portiifes. Then, if I mistake not, he uttoed ttie
<«e explanatoty and sdf-ioffident word-"NeedJe-

pumper. ,

I heard him tiptoe in. a few mfawtet later, and de-
cenUy cover my legs with the overcoat from the dttu^

I did not speak, for bending over me was a rarer and
sweeter Presence, and I wanted no sound or mo> vemert

to frighten her away. Just when her hand toadied
mine I can not tdL Bull f dl off into a deq» »d
natural sleep and dreamed I was bring earned throtyli
SidUan orange fpront by a wafl-^red waiter wim

wings like a butterfly. t-«*«*

Then the scene dianged, as scenes have the habit of

doing in dreams. I seemed to be Ae center of a wh-
cellar conference of highwaymen, presided over byUr
treiUe himsdf . Then the voices shifted and dianged,
receded and advanced. I seemed to be threading that
buffer^tato wWdi Ifcs between the two kingdoms of
Sleep and Wricefuteess. the birffer^rtate tfiat has no
dear-cut outfines and twUuUk ^ weevfl between ever-

"Where's Sir '^ery." said a voice from » moan-
taiB-tofk Then art a as we iii^ uwrrniwr 9i vok« bnaasd

154 THE MAN WHO CX)ULDNT SLraO*

•boot me likt beet, oolj an imdHgiMe nonl or two
•eemiiig to remlbroe tlie fibrk of mj i BMiyini ng i at
iron rods remforcecoacrete-walls. And I contiiiuid to
lie there in that plcannt borderland torpor, which it
neither wakefofaieit nor thnnber. I teemed to dost on,
in no ponderable way ditturbed by the broken horn of
talk that flkkered and wavered throcgh my biafai.

"Then why can't Sir Henry work on the Betmont
jetbr* one of the voket wat addnf.

**I told you before, Sir Henry*! tied tipr" another
voiee antwered.

"What doing?" asked the first voice.

"He's fixing his pfamt lor the Van Toy! cot^" was
the answer.

"What Van Tuyl?"

"Up in Seventy-third Street He^t got 'em hog
tMd."

"And what's more," broke hi a third voice, "he
won't toodi a soup case since he got that safe-wedge

in the wrist It kind o' broke his nerve for the nitro
work."

"Aw, you cottldn't break that guy's nerve r
"Well, he knows he's marked, anyway."
Then came a hill, foQowed by die tcratdi of a match
and the mumbling of voices again.

"How'd he get through tiie rc^iet up Aere?" in-
quired one of these voices.

"Same dd way. Butlering. Turk McMeekin doped
him up a half-doaen London reco mm « d t. That got
hhn started oeA in Morristown. with the WUppeny
Oub. ThenhedytfwHerresfonl job. Bothers get

THE IRREPROACHABLE FJTLER ISS

a pewh with thU Van Tiiyl i«f. Tli^ let Wmlock
up%v«ry iii^il--«afc" Mid O-Hwd cwn^

bed with htor

"It's up to Sir 'Entry to make em dream nea tne

real thii^t" muimiirwl another of Aa voket.
"Surer aniwered itiU another voke that leeffled »

great diftance away.
Then the mmnble became a mnrmar and the mw^

muradnme. And tha drone became a lilMnf of
birch tofa. and I waa italking Of-Horn acroaa moon.

tain peaka o! eafi pairfmi, where a pompooa^gH*
buUer eerved pkhtt MOw on tiie edge of every lec-

ondpreci^oe;

When I woke up it waa broad dayUght. and my
wall-ered wito waa Aero waitfag for hia lecond bin.

And I remembered that I oui^t to phone Bewonw
he could have the coffee ready Iqr the thne I walked

home through the meUow November air.

It waa two hoori later that the firat memory of
those murmuring nridni^t voicea came '•dc tome.
The wordi I had overheard leemed to have been noma

in my mind like leeda in the ground. Tlienhereand
there a green fhoot of iuspickm emerged^The nwre

I thou^ it over, the more disturbed I be«ne. ^
I warned mytdf that I could be smeof nj^
one tangibifity waa Oe repeated word, "J^ TuyL
And there at kaat waa aometog on which I couM

{oGua tU9 attennon.
I went to Ae tdephone and caBed op Beatopte ^

Tuyl Years before we had |byed w^ p^ ««
catboated on the Sowid together. I wiliaed, aa I

156 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

heard tliat jonof mttroa'f cheery voice over the tele-
phone wire, that I would hairc to pick my steps with
care;

"I my, Beatrice, are you poariUy hi need of a hiii-
lerr I began at offhandedly at I was able.

"Out of a place, Witter dearr waa the chuckling
inquiry that came to me.

''No, I'm not, but I know of a good man," was my
mendacious reply. "And I rather thought—"

"My dear Witter,** said the vofce over the wire,
"we've a jewel of a man up here. He's English, you
know. And Tm beginning to 8'i?pect he^s been with
royalty. Jim's always wanted to stick pins in his legs
to see if he really isn't petrified."

'•What's his name?"

'Just what it ought to be— the most apf.<^ate
name of WiBrins."

*How long have you had him?"

"Oh, wedcs and weeks!" Only a New York house
holder couM understand the tone of triumph m that
retort

"And you're sure of hhn hi every way?"

"Of course we're sure of him. He's been a Gibral-
tar of dependability."
"Where ^ you get him fromr

"From Morristown. He was at the Whippeny Qub
out there before he came to us."

"The Whippeny Oub!" I cried, for the name struck
like a bullet on the metal of memory.

"Don't you think," the voice over the wire was say-
ing, "that you'd better come up for dinner to-night and

THB IRREPROACHAaLE BUTLER i$7

inipect the pmm i* <*>•• «*•' ^^ 3r«» n»i|^
talk to tts a ttt«i^ tetwccii wfaUcs."

"I'd tove to," w«a my very prompt reply.

"Then do," laid Bentriee Van Tiqrl. "Alittletfter

•even."

And a little after ieven I <My rang the Van Tuyli*
door-beU and wat duly admitted to that orderly and
weU-appointed Seventy-third Street hou«, to like a
thousand other orderly and mtSk-t^ipointtd New York
houMs hidden bditnd their unchanging madcs of brown

and gray.

Yet I cottkl not help feeling the vuhierabthty of that
apparency wett-goarded home. For aU ita walk of
stone and b. idc f or all the iteel grilla that covered ita
windowa and the heavy acrdl work that protected ita
glaaa door, it remained a place munificently ripe for
puMkr. Ita aolidity. I felt, was only a mockery. It
11, de me think of a fortress that had been secretly
mined. lu occupanto aeemed baskkig hi a fake §••
curity. The very inatrumenta which went to insorc
that security were actnalfy a menace. The very wmr
chinery oi er/ic« which made poattble ita ctoistral
tranquilUty hdd the factor for ita diaraptkm.

As I surrendered my hat and coat and aacended to
that second fioor where I had known so many sedately
happy hours, I for once f oond myaelf dia qn i et ed by
its flower-kden atmo^here. I began to be oppressed
by a new and disturb sense of responsibility. It
wo Id be no lif^ matter, I began to see, to o^kxle
a oomb of dksension in that prmc^ty oi ahnoet ar-
rogant atoolneas. It iwdd te no joke to confoond

iS8 THE MAN WHO COULpNT SLEEP

that smoothly flowing routine with which nitan wetlA
so jealously surrounds itself.

I suddenly remembered there was nothing hi wUch
I could be positive, nothing on which I could wifli cer-
tainty rely. And my inward disquiet was increased, if
anything, by the cahn and blithely contented gbnce
Beatrice Van Tuyl leveled at m&

''And what's all this ni3rstery abottt our man Wil-
kinsr ' she asked me, with the immediacy of her sex.

"Won't you let me answer diat question a little hter
in the evening?"

"But, my dear Witter, that's hardly fair!'* die pro-
tested, as she held a lighted match for her hosfaand's
cigarette. *T>o you know, I actually b^eve you've
spotted some one you want to supfdant WiOdnt with."

"Heas©-"

"Or did he spin aoop on yon some tfane when we
didn't see it^

"I imagfaie he^s spilt a bit of soi^in his day," I an-
swered, remembering what I had overheard as to the
safe wedge. And as I spoke I realised tbrt ny one
hope hy in the possibility of gettmg a glfanpee of the
mark which that wedge had left>4f , indeed, my whole
sand-chain of coincidences did not split back Into the
inconsequentiafities of dreandand.

"You can't shake my faith hi WiUns," mU tiM
blue-eyed woman In tiie blue dBc dhmer gown, at Ae
leaned back in a p rotec ttog^ armed and aoMy padded
library<hair whkli suddenly becma sjmibollc of her
whole guarded and opliolslered life. "Jfan, teH Witter
what a jewel WiOdni rsal^ {■.*

^j^^_im^

mum

THE IRREPROACHABLE BUTLER I59

Jim, whoM flitwfcht WM hawy ofdnmce bokle hit
wife't flying cdlttinn of hnmor, turned th* matter
sokmnly over in hb minA

"He's a remarioWy good »»," admitted the stolid
and leviticaljini, "remarkably good."

"And you've teen him yourtelf, time and time
again," concurred his wile.

"Birt Fve new been pwtiatoriy intereited in ser-
vants, yon knoir," waa my aetf-defentire retort

"Then why, in the face of the Immortal Ironies, are
you pottfaig my butler under Ae roicroacoper was fee
rttum shot that came from the flying cohmm. The
acidulated sweetness of that attack e¥«i nettled me
into a right-about-face. ^ u^u i

**Look here," I sndde^ demanded, "have either of
you missed anything valuable about here latdyr

The two gsiaed at eadi other lor a moment m per.

pkxed wonder. ^ «__

"Of course not," retorted the woman m the dimier

gown. '"Noiathfaigr
"And you know you have cyerydiing inta ct, an y« g

jewdry, your piale. your poekediooka, Ae trhfcrta a
soeaktUel tti^it caS it worA while to round «pr
"Ofeowaewehcve; And I cMi*t e ven tewn t your

"BntaroyoneMteolthb? Couldyett veilfr it

at a Momsifs notef

my dear Witter, we weiddD*t need t ^ * ■■—
w^redofaig it every diqrolonrfiveB. It'i taitinitfw;

if aaa awii «hM ukM^iBt no^ <»» <^ <>» <^B^
aM colHNbt ont of tbi

MliBHIli

f'^"

i6o THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

"What's tnaking you aak aU Aii?*' demanded the
heavy artiUety.

"Yes, what's suddenly making you into a Holmei't
watchman?" echoed the flying brigade.

Still again I saw that it was going to be no easy
thing to intimate to persons you cared for the possi-
bility of their sleeping on a volcano. Such an intima-
tion has both its dangers and its responsibilitiea. My
earlier sense of delight in a knowledge unpertidpated
in by otfiers was gradually merging into a conscious-
ness of a disagreeable task tfiat would prove unsavory
in both its features and its finale.

"I'm asking all this," I replied, "because I have good
reason to bcKeve this paragon you call Wilkins is not
only a criminal, but has come into this houw for
criminal purposes."

"For what criminal purposes?"

"For the sake of robbing it"

Beatrice Van Tuyl looked at me with her wide-open
•zan eyes. Then she sudd^ bubbled over with
golden and fiquid-noted laughter. "Oh, Witter, yoa*tm
lovely r

"What proof have yon got of Aatr demanded Jim.

"Of my loveUness?" I inquired, for Jim Van Tuyl's
soHdity was as provocative as that of the sn^thy anvil
which the idler can not pass without at least * hammer,
taportwo. Yet it was this same soBdity, I knew, that
made him the safest of financiers and tiie ihrewdeat
of inveMorib

"No," he retorted, "proofs of the ftct that WiBdnt
ii here for other than honert pitrprmi."

liiiili

THE IRREPROAaiABLE BUTLER i6§

•Tve no proof," I had to confcM.
•«Then what cndence have ycnt*
•Tve not ev« any etidenoe aa yet But Fm not
ttirring up thU sort of thing without good rea«Hi."

"Let'i hope not!" retorted Jim.

**My dear Witter, you're actuaSy getting fussy in
youi old age," «aid the laughing woaan. It was only
the sotonmity of her husband's face that seemed to
sober her. "Can't yo« see it's absurd? We're aU
here, safe and so^nd, and we haven't been robbed "

•*But what I want to kaaw," yreai on the heavier
artilkry, "is what your reasons are It aeems only
right we sboidd inqpiire what you've got in the shape

of cvideooi.''
"What I h«»e wotddal be admitted as evidence," I

cotifeaBed.
He threw down his di^arette. It meant as much as

throwiBg up his hinds.
**Then whitf do you expect ua to dor
"I doi^t expaet yoa to do wything. AD I ask is
that yott kt me try to justify iib cowto Tm taken,
thatthcAfeeofu8<&i«tBirtytoiidier. Aadunkss
I'm greatly nrfstolcen, befof* Ai*^«w«r li ewl think

I can show you &at tiiis flHA— *

I saw Be^rice V«i Tuyl sndiniy Vxh a fo«fing«r
to her lip. The motioB tor ailiMe bf«#t ak i^
short A moment hter I fci«i ite wi^ ol a Ui^-
switch in the haSway oaMidt and Aaii Ae <«* of
jade curtain-rings on Ae?.r pole. kMo Ae doorw^
stepped a figure in bk«k, a afai tad ilow-aiovlif md

altogether sdf-asaured fipnc

^tm*

mmmM

i6a THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

"Dinner is served." intoned this sober personnge,
with a curate-like solemnity all his own.

I had no wish to g^ie at the man. but that first
fiimpse of mine was a sharp one, for I knew that It
was Wllkins himself that I was confronting. As I
beheld him there in all the g)ory of his mafisterial aa-
surance I felt an involuntaiy and ridiculous sfaddng in
the diaphragm. I asked myself in the name of all the
Lares and Penates of Manhattan, why I had suddenly
.gone oflF on a wiM-goose chase to bag an inoffensive
butler about whom I had had a midnight nightmare?

Then I k)oked at the man more ck>sely. He wof«
the conventional dress Uvery of twilled worsted, with an
extremely high-winged collar and an extremely small
lawn tie. He seemed a remarkably solid figure of a
Plan, and his height was not insignificant Any im-
pression of fragility, of sedentary Uoodlessness, which
might have been given out by his quite pallid face,
was sharply contradicted by the muscukr heaviness of
his limbs. His hair, a Kyrle-Bellewish gray over the
temples, was cut short The well-powdered and ctese-
shaven face was Uuish white aUmg the jowls, Uke a
priest's. The poise of the figure, whether natural or
simuUted, was one marked for servitude.

Yet I had to admit to myself, as we filed out and
down to the dining-room, that the man was not with-
out his pretended sense of dignity. He seemed neitiHr
arrogant nor obsequious. He hovered midway betwan
the Scylla of hauteur and the Charybdis of cooskletila
pttience. About the immobile and mask-fike faee hiav
that veil of impersonaUty which marked hfan at a bul-

II J

THE IRREPROACHABLE BUTLER 165

Icr— «• a botler to the Bnger-tips. When not actually
in movement he was as aloofly detached as a totem-
pole He stood as unobtrusive as a newel-post, as im-
passive as some shielding piece of fumiture. beside
which youth might whisper its weightiest secret or con-
spiracy weare iu darkest web.

I had to confess, as I watched his deft movements
about that chinarstrewn oblong of damask which
seemed his fit and rightful domain, that he was m no
way wanting in the part— the only thing that puzzled
me was the futility of that part. There was authority,
too, in his merest finger-movement and eye-shift, as
from time to time he signaled to the footman who
helped him in Ws duties. There was grave soUcitude
on his face as he awaited the minutest semaphonc nod
of the woman m the blue silk dinner gown. And this
was the man, with his stoUd air of exactitude, with hi»
quick-handed movements and his akrt and yet unpar-
ticipating eyes, whom I had come into that quiet house-
hold to proclaim a thief I

I watched his hands every course •• I sat there
talking against time-and Heaven knows what I Ulked
of! But about those hwds there was nothing to di».
cover. In the first thing of importance I had met
with disappointment. For the cuffs that projected
from the edges of the livery sleeves covered each large-
boned wrist In the actual deportment of the man
there was nothing on which to base a decent suspiaon.
And to the meanwhile the dinner progressed, as aH
such dinners do. smoothly and quietly, and, to outward
appearances, harmoniously and happily.

iMHii

1^4 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

,°^. " «* progressed I grew more and more per-
ptaMd. There was another nauseating moment or two
when the thought flashed over me that the whole thing

waa iniKd a mistate, Aift whK I iMid teemed to hew
m m^ restless moments of the m^ before was only
a dream projected into a pviod of wakefubiesa.
Equipped with nothing tmm titon an echo from thta
dream, I had started off on thia mad cfaase^ t» nm
down a^man who had proved and was pt^ng h»»e!f
the acme of decorovs reqiectability.

But if thia thought was a sichenhig OIK, it was also
asickfyoi^. lAe dl siddy things too. it tended to
dieyoung. It went down before Ae crowdii^ actuali-
zes of other c»ctioisia«es which I could not overlook.

Coincidence, repeated often enoi^ becMK more than
fortuity. The thh^ was more than a nightmare. I
had heard what I had heard. There was still some
mrthod by which I could verify or contradict my sus-
pMaon. My proWem was to And a plan. And the
gravity of my dilemma, I suppose, was m some way
reflected m my face.

"Well, what are you gobg to do about it?" asked
Van Tuyl, with his heavy matter-of-factness, at a mo-
ment when the room happened to be en^>ty.

"Don't you see it's a mistake?" added his wife, with
a self-assuring glance about the rose-shaded table and
then a wider glance about the room Itsdf

"Wait," I suddenly said. "What were his refers
enees?^

"H« gave us a qilendid one from the WUmair
ChU W.«ri&da»fc Th«, he tad het«!Trf

nr-

HI
If

o
I-

c
n
I

THE IRREPROACHABLE BUTLER 163

them from tome vtry d«ent people in London. One

of them was a bishop."
"Did yoa verify thoeer
"Across the Atlantic Witter? It really <ti(to*t seem

worthwhile!"
"And it's bdcy for hhn you didn't r
"Wl^r

"Because Ae/re forgeries, every one of them!
''Whal ground have you for Ataidng thi^?" aAed

tiie sotemn Van Tuj^

"I don't Atric it— I know It And, I unagine, I can
tell you the name of the man who forged them for
htm*

"Wdi, whm Is itr

*'A worthy fay themme of Turk IkMcchki.''
Van Tuyl sat up wUh » heavy purpose on his honest

and unhn^^native face.

"We've had a 1^ lot d ti^ niyilery. Witter, but
we've got to get to the wd of it Teamewhatyou
know, everythhig. and W have Wm hi here and face
hirawMiit Now, what is Aere beside tiie Turk Mo-

Meeklnitemr

"Not yetr i mn n mrrf Bnttiee Van Tt^ warn-
iagly, as Wiadns and Ws MMWik* face a*paneed urt»

I had the lee&ig, as he senred us wlii •■• d tinee
ddedable ices wWeb make even the ^Mwwrism of
the Cynnaka tame hi mUroiiHl. A* e* ^"'**^
ia»rai^ eoMpiikig ifidiMl our aw ■•lilng; Asi
vre were deflu riiiiig ommm petae ^-w^lA Wewere
sitthig th«a adMBNgiavBift iIm ipMr iAese sole

^amuaiammimum

■iiiliiiiii

i66 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

functioa wu to minister to oor ddijj^itt. AadlcouU
not help wondering why, if the nui wat hideed wfam

I nispected, he choee to loltow the moit pracarioas and
the moit ill-paid of aU proftnioM, I found it hard
to persuade myself that behind that stolid bhie-wbte
maslc of a face could flidier any wayward sfiirit of ad-
v e iUMW a nd yet without that ^nrit ny wbok case
was a card house of absurdities.

I noticed that for the first time Bcatriee Van Tnyri
own eyes dwelt with a quick and searchhy look oa
her servant's immobile iMe. Then I felt her equally
searcfaiiqf gate directed at me. I knew that my f aihm
to make good would meet with scant forgiveness. She
wouM demand knowledge, even though it led to the
discovery of the volcano's imminence. And after so
much smoke it was plamly my duty to show where the
fire hiy.

I seized the conversation by the tail, at it were, and
dracged it bade into the avenues of ineonstqucntia^.
We sat there, the three of us, actually making talc for
the sdK of a putty-laced servant I noticid, tiiough,
that as he rounded the table he repeatedly feO under
the qiadify questioning gaze of both his master and
mistress. I began to feel like an lago who had wOl-

funyp(^uted a dovecote of hitherto unshaken trust 1^
became harder and harder to keep up my pretene of
artless good humor. That was %ing, nd notitk^
had as yet been found out

"Now," denuM ded Van Tiqrl, wtaa Ae room ww
once men eaqMy, '%hat are you sore of?"

Tm sure of aothi^'' I had to

THE IRREPROACHABLE BUTLER 167

•TThtti what do you propose doinf r wt» At loint-
what arctic faiqiiinr.

I glanced up at «be watt wliere Eaddah Van TvjU
the worthy founder of the American l»raiich of te
family, frwmed reproving^ down at me over Wi
swatUng blade itock.

"I pfopoee,'* waa my aniwer, 'lunring yowr great
gnndfetber op there let na know whether I am right
or whether I am wrong."

And at WiDdnt stepped into Ae room I rose from
the table, walked over to the heavy-framed portratt, and

lifted it from its hook. I heW Jt there. wiA » pretend
of studying the face for » moment or two. Then I
ptaced mf table napUn on » diair. monnrM .1 and
made an mwicceaafnl effort to rchang the |.vr «it

"If yott i^ease. WiOdns." I said, stm holding the
picture flat agafaist the wall

"A Kttlc hi^w," I told him, as I strained to kwp
the eordbMsk over to hook. I was not especially soo-
cessful at this, beemne at the time my eyes were di-
rected toward tiie hands of the man holding op the

picture.

His positkm was such that the sleeves of his Uack
service coat were drawn »w»y from Ae white and
heavy-boned wrists. And thwe. before my eyes, acroea
the flexor cords of the ri|^ wrist was a wide and
ragged sear at least three inches hi kngtfi.

I returned to my place at the 4kum taUa. Vm
Tuyl, by this time, waa fash« 1* mt wHh boA t^
■cntment and wondtr. ^ ^^

••Shan we h«va co«ea np-iUtor hb w» asieea

i« THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

•H«f^ pIcMt^" I Interpolitod.

•Very good» nmdmC he mumtnd.
'j;^o^«f*» •• X wirtdMd him cfOM the room, H
he i^tccted aiqrthiiif. I abo woodeml how hare-

hriined the men end wowiii iorted It the trijie thoiiilit

**Uam,** I said, the montiit we were aloiie; "hart
J^^iMt ho* jrou can tnwt. oiie yoo am tnift

"Of coanc," annrnd mv hottesi.
"Wholaitr

"WiDdn^-waitheanwrer,
"Not coontiiif WUkmsr

"WdU think I can aho tnirt my maid FeUce--im.
leie you know her better than I do."

I couM afford to ignore the thrust.

JT!"? rd advi.e you to tend her i^ to look over
your thmgs at once"

]]Whydoyottiiythirtr

"BecMite now I know thii man Wilkini it a crimi-
nal of the worst typer
"You know it r

J^**'/ iT' '* •• "^^ ■• ^ '"^^ r« «ittinf at this
table. And I can prove it"

"How r demanded Van Tuyl

"I'll show you how fa a very few moments. And.
on second thoughts, Fd have that maid Felice bri^

THE IRREPROACHABLE BUTLER 169

triiat yott r^purd u vahiatde right to tMs diidng-rooiii
—I mtM yoor jewdt and Aing^**

"But this foundt 10 tUfy," demumd my ttill re-
luctant hotteML

"It won't iound half lo aflly at a Tiffany advertise-
nent of a reward and no qnettiont aikcd."

Beatrice Van Tuyl mterceptcd a footman and sent
him off for the maid Feliee. A moment later WiBdna
was at our ikle quietly serving the eafi nok in tiny
gold-fined ospa.

<*Thb method of mine for identifying the real pearU
at you win tee." I blandly went 00, "it a very timple
one. You merely take a matdi end and dip it in clear
water. Then you let a drop of water fall on the pearl
If the ttone it an fanitatioa one the water-drop win
■pread and lie dose to the turface. If the ttooe it
genuine the dmp wiQ ttand high and rounded, like a
globe of qukktitver, and win thake with the minute
vibrationt which patt throt«h any body not in perfect
equiUbrium."

Before I had completed that tpeech the maid Fefice
had ttepped into the room. She was a woman of about
thirty, white-skinned, slender of figure, and decidedly
foreign-kMking. Her face was a clever one, though I
promptly dithTcod an affectation of Umguor with whkh
she strove to hide a spirit which was only too plafaily

alert
"I want you to fetch my jewel case from Ae boudoir

safe,- her mistress toM her. -Bring everything in the

box,"
I could not see the maid's Ims, for at tiiat moment

MKROCOrr RtKXUTION TBT CHART

(ANSI and ISO TEST CHART He. 7)

|2^

l»

I2A
Itt

|3j2

■ 22

12.0

•1PPLIED IM/OE Ine

16S3 East Main Strttl

Rochntw, N*w York U609 USA

(716) 482 - 0300 - Phorw

(716) 2M-5983-FOK

P ■ ■ s

m i^^

*11

170 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

I was busy watehing Wakm From that wortltr.
however, came no slightest sign of disturbance or
wonder.

"Here, madam?" the maid was asking.

"Yes, here and at once, please," answered Beatrice
VanTuyL Then she turned to me. "And since youVe
«idi a jewel expert youTl be able to tell me whaf a
darkenmg those turquoises of mine."

. ^^f?^ **"™P°^«««- into my coflFee and sipped
It Wilkms opened a dark-wooded buflfet humidor be.
fore me, and I picked out a slender-waisted Havana
corseted m a band of gold. I suddenly looked up at
Ae man as he stood at my side holding the blue-flamed
htUe akohol lamp for the contact of my waiting cigar

"WiDdns, how did you get that scar?" I asked him,
out of a dear sky. The wrist itself was covered by its

cuff and sleeve end, but under them, I knew, was the
telltale mark.

"What scar, sir?" he asked, his poUteness touched

with an mdulgent patience which seemed to mq)ly that
he was not altogether unused to facing geittlemen in
imaccountably h^ spirits.

"This one!" I said, catching his hand in mine and
nmmng the cuff back along the white forearm. Not

one trace of either alarm or resentment could I see on
that mdedpherable countenance. I ahnost began to
admire the man. In his way he was superi*.

"Oh, Aat, sirr ht exclaimed, with an ahnost offen-
sivdy condauy glance at the Van Tuyb, as though

inqumog whether ornot he shouM wply to a ques^

THE IRREPROACHABLE BUTLER 171

at once so personal and at tiie same time so ont <rf

place.

"TeU him where yon got it, WiDrins," said Beatrice
Van Tuyl, so sharply that it practically amounted to
accffnmand.

"I got it stopping Lord Entristle's brougham,
madam, in London, seven years ago," was the quiet
and unhesitating answer.

"How?" sharply asked the woman.

"I was footman for his lordship Aen, madam," w«t
on the quiet and patient-noted voice. **I had just
taken cards in when the horses were frightened by a
tandem bicyde going post They threw Siddons, Ae
coachman, off Ae box as they jun^jed. and overturned
thcvdiicle. His kM-dship was inside. I got the rehis
as one of the horses went down. But he kicked me
against the broken glass and I threw out one hand. I
fancy, to save myself."

"And the coadi glass cut your wristr asked Van

Tuyl

''Yes, sir," replied the servant, moving with methodic
slowness on his way about the taMe. His figure, in
its somber badge of livery, seemed ahnost a patlietk:
one. There was no anxiety on his face, no ^ladow of
fear about the mild and unpartidpating eyes. I vns
suddenly consdous of my unjust superiority over him
—a st^erkmty of statkm, of birth, of momentary
knowledge.

The siknoe that ensued wm not a pkasaot cat. I
f eh ahnost gratelrf fer fte to^ «»trw€e ol Ae mml
Fdice. In her hands Ae cairW a ^fMBBd tte tol»

• I

173 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

about the size of a theatrical makeup uax, Vm she
placed on the table beside her mistress.

"Is there uiy thing else, madam?'' she asked.

"That is all," answered Beatrice Van Tuyl as she
threw b«ick the lid of the japanned box. I noticed that
although the key stood in it, it was unlocked. Then
my hostess looked up at the waiting butler. "And,
Wilkins, you can leave the cigars and liqueur on the
table. I'll ring if I want anything."

The carefully coiffured blonde head was bent low
over the box as the servants stepped out of the room.
The delicate fingers probed through the array of
leather-covered cases. I could see by her face, even
before she spoke, that the box's contents were intact

"You see," she said, ladling handful after handful
of glittering jewelry out on the white table-cloth be-
tween her coffee-cup and mine, "everything is here.
Those are my rings. There's the dog collar. There's
angel Jim's sunburst Here's the ordinary family junk."

I sat for a momait studying that Oriental array of
feminine adornment It was plainly an array of evi-
dence to discountenance me. I felt a distinct sense of
relief when the woman in Wue suddenly dropped her
eyes from my face to her jewel box agam. It was
Van Tuyl's persistent stare that rowded me into final
activity.

"Then so far, we're in luck I And as from now on
I want to be responsible for what happens," I said, as
I reached over and gathered the glittering mass up in
a table napkin, "I think it will simplify things if you.
Van Tuyl, take possession of these."

THE IRREPROACHABLE BUTLER 173

I tied the XM^ikiii Mcurely together and handed it
to my wondering host Then I dropped a aUver bon-
bon dish and a bunch of hothouse grapes into the
emptied box, locking it and handmg the key back to
Beatrice Van Tuyl

That lady locked neither at me nor die key. In-
stead, she sat staring meditatively into space, appar-
ently weighing s<mie question in which the rest of that
company couM daim no interest. It was only after
her husband had spoken her name, sharply, that she
came bade to her immediate surroundings.

"And now what must I do?" she asked, with a new
note of seriousness.

"Have the maid take the box back to where it came
from," I t<W her. "But be so good as to retain the

key."

"And then what?" modccd Van TuyL

"Then," cut in his wife, with a sudden note of
antagonism which I could not account for, "the sooner
we send for the poUke the better."

An answering note of antagonism showed <m Vaw

Tuyl's face.

"I tdl you, Kerfoot, I can't do it,'* he objected, even
as bis wife rang the bdL "You've got to show mer

"Please be still, Jim," she said, as Wilkins stepped
into the room. She turned an impassive face to the
waiting servant "Will you ask Felice to come here."

None of us spoke until Felice entered the rx>m.
WiBdns, I noticed, followed her in, but passed across
the room's full length and went out by the door in A«
rear.

174 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

"Felice," said the woman beside me, very calmly
and cooUy, "I want you to take this box bade to the
safe."

"Yes, madam."

'Then go to the tdephone in Ae study and ring up
police headquarters. Tell them who you are Then
explain that I want them to send an officer here, at
<mce."

"Yes, madam," answered the attentive-faced maid.
'Tdice, you had better ask them to send two men,
two—"

"Two plain-clothes men/* I prompted.

**Yes, two plain-clothes men. And explain to them
Aat they are to arrest the man-servant who opens the
door for them-4it once, and without any fuss. Is that
quite dear?"

"Yes, madam, quite dear," answered die maid.

"Then please hurry."

"Yes, madam."

I looked up at Van Tuyl's audible splutter of in-
dignation.

"Excuse me;* he cried, "but isn't all this getting just
a little highhanded? Aren't we making things into a
nice mess for ourselves? Aren't we moving just a
little too fast in this game, calling out the reserves
because you happen to spot a scar on my butler's
wrist?"

"I tell you, Jim," I cried with all die earnestness at
my command, "the man's a thief, a criminal with a
criminal's reccvd!"

"Then prove it f' demanded Jim.

THE IRREPROACHABLE BXJTLKl 17s

"Call Hm in and I wm."

Van X uyl made a motion for his wife to touch tb«

bdL

H«r slippered toe was still on the rug-covered button
when Wilkins entered, the same austere and self-as-
sured figure.

"Wilkins," said Van Tuyl, and Acre was an out-
spoken and deUberate savagery in his voice even as
his wife motioned to him in what seemed a signal for
moderation, "Wifldns, I regard you as an especiaUy
good servant. Mr. Kcrfoot. on the other hand, sayt
he knows you and says you are not"

"Yes, sir," said WiBdns with his totem-pole ab-

stractitm.
There was something especially maddemng m thrt

sustained calmness of his.

"And what's more," I suddenly cried, exa^)erated
by that play-actmg role and rising and confronting hhn
as he stood there, **y<mr name's not Wilkins, wid you
never got that wrist scar from a coach door.**

"Why not, sir?" he gently but most respectfully in-
quired.

"Because," i cried, stepping stiU nearer and watch-
ing the immobile bkie-white face, 'In the gang yott
work with you're known as Sir Henry, and you got
that cut on the wrist from a wedge when you tried to
blow open a safe door, and the letters of faitroduction
which you brought to the Whippeny Club w»e forged
by an expert named Turic McMeddn ; and I kiio^r what
brought you into this house and what yi«ttr ^lans for
robbing it are!"

i.^ :

176 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

There was not one mpve of his body as be stood
there. There was not one twitch of his mask-like face.
But on that face, point by point, came a sk>w suf-
fusion of something akin to expression. It was not
fear. To call it fear would be doing the man an in-
justice. It began with the eyes, and spread from
feature to feature, very much, I imagine, as sentient
life must have spnsA across the countenance of Pyg-
malion's slowly awakening marble.

For one fraction of a moment the ' ,«t pitiful eyes
looked at me with a quick and implo utg glance. Then
the mask once more descended over them. He was
himself again. And I felt ahnost sure that in the mel-
lowed light about us the other two figures at the tab'-*
had not seen that face as I did.

There was, in fact, something ahnost like shame
on Van Tuyl's heavy face as the cabn-voiced servant,
utterly ignoring me and my words, turned to him and
asked if he should remove the things.

"You haven't answered the gentleman," said Bea-
trice Van Tuyl, in a vdce a litUe shrill with excite-
ment

"What is diere to answer, madam V he mildly asked.
"It's all the young gentleman's foolishness, some fool-
ishness whidi I can't understand."

"But the thing can't stand like this," protested the
ponderous Van TuyL

There must have beoi something reassuring to tfiem
both in the methodic cahnness with which this calum-
niated factor in their domestic Eden moved about once
more performing his petty dcxnestic duties.

THE IRREPROACHABLE BIT' ER tf!

e.
f-
>t
i-
n
tt

•Then you deny evetythmg he laytr intitted the

woman.

The servant stopped and looked up in mild reproof.

'•Of course, madam," he replied, as he slowly re-
moved the Hqueur glasses. Isawmyhortesslookafter
him with one of her long and abrtracted glancefc She
was still peering into his face as he stepped back to the
table. She was, indeed, still gazing at him when the
muffled shrill of an electric bell announced there was
a caller at ^ street door.

"Wilkins," she said, ahnoet ruminatively, 1 want
you to answer the door — ^the street door.*

"Yes, madam," he answered, without hesitation.

The three of us sat in silence, as the stow and
methodic steps crossed the room, stepped out into the
hall, and advanced to what at least one of us knew to
be his doom. It was Van Tuyl himself who spoke up
out of the silence.

**Whaf s up?" he asked. "What's he gone for?"

The police are Acre," answered his wife.

' '--- 1 God !" exclaimed the astounded husbsuid, now
f 5, " t **You don't mean you've sprung that trap

on - - r*^*''' devil? You — **

"Sit down, Jim," broke in his wife with enforced
catemess. "Sit down and wait"

"But I won't be made a fool of T'

"You're not being made a fool of !"

"But who's arresting this man? Who's got the
evidence to justify what's being done here?"

"I have," was ie woman's answec

"What do you mean?*

ITS THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

'■' '•

SIm was reiy cafan about it

"I mean that Witter waf right My Baroda ptmU
MdtktemiraUpendattiwtrtnotmthfj^i, The^r§
gam"

**Thieftt goat?" echoed the uicredukNit husband.

"Listen." I wddenly cried, a« Van Ttyl sat digert-
tng his discoveiy. We heatd the sound of steps, the
shun of a door, and the departing hum of a nK>tor<ar.
Before I realised what she was doing Beatrice Van
Tuyl's foot was onoe more oo the call belL A foot-
man answered the summons.

"Go to the street door/* she commanded, "and see
who^s there"

We waited, listening. The silence lengthened.
Something about that silence impressed me as omi-
nous. We were still intently listening as the footman
stepped bade imo die room.

"If s the chauffeur, sir,** he explamed.

"And what does he want?"

"He said Felice telephoned for the car a quarter of
an hour ago."

"Send Felice to me," commanded my hostess.

"I don't think I can, ma'am. She's gone m the car
with WUkms.**

"With Wilkins?"

"Yes, ma'am. Markson says he can't make it out,
ma'am, Wilkins driving off that way without so much
as a by-your-leave, ma'am."

The three of us rose as one from t!» table. For a
second or two we stood staring at one another.

Then Van Tuyl suddenly dived for the stairs, with

THE IRREPROACHABLE BUTLER 179

thenaiilcinfiinof jewefaryinhifluttKL I, in tnni, dived

for tfw mm &i)or, BnA before I opoied it I kmw

it wts too bite.
I soddenlx stepped tMwIc into tlw bafiwqr, to oonfrooft

Beatrice Van Tt^L

liow hag have yoo had Felice r I aalnd, gropinf
ini po te atiy about tfie hall doset lorngr hat and coat

"She came two wedct before WiOdni,'' was the

«Then yon see what this nwantr I aAed, still grop-
ing abont for mjr overcoat
"What flm it mean r
"They were woiidng together—they were cooled-

Van T17I descended ^ stairs still carryfaig the
table napkin faO of jewdiy. His eyes were wide with

indignant wonder.
"It's goner he gasped. "He^s taken yoor box r
I emoged from the hall ctoset botfi a litde startled
and a little hnmifiated.

"Yes» ttd he's taken my hat and coat" I sadly con-
fessed.

CHAPTER Vn

iJ!

lifci

THB PANAMA GOLD CHBtTS

TT it one of life's little ironies, I suppoee^ that man's
•^ surest escape from misery should be through the
contemplation of peof^ more miserable than himself.
Such, however, happens to be the case. And prompted
by this genial cross between a stoic and a cynic philos-
ophy, I had formed the habit of periodically submerg-
ing myself in a bath of cleansing depravity.

The hopelessness of toy felbw-beings, I found,
seemed to give me something to live for. Collision
with lives so putrescently abominable that my own
by contrast seemed enviable, had a tendency to make
me forget my troubles. And this developed me into
a sort of calamity chaser. It still carried m^ on those
nights when sleq> seemed beyrnid my reach, to many
devious and astounding comers of the dty, to unsavory
cellars where lemon-steerers and slough-beaters fore-
gathered, to ill-lit rooms where anardiists nightly ate
the fire of their own ineffectual oratory, to heavy-
fumed drinking-places where pocket-slashers and till-
tappers and dumn^-diudcers and dips forgot their
more arduous hours.

But more and more often I found my steps uncon-
sciously directed toward that particular den of sub-
terranean iniquities known as The CafS of Failures.
For it was in this new-world Cabaret du Neont that

i8o

THE PANAMA GOLD CHESTS i8i

I bad fint bnrd of Ihat engaging *Hstkr Imows to
hit coofederatet aa "Sir Hcny." And I Hill had
hopes of recovering' my ttoksn great-coat.

Night by night I went bade to that dimly lit den of
life's discards, the same as a bewildered beagle goes
back to its hut trace of aniseed. I grew hrared to its
bad air, tmobservant of its soorbntic waiters, iwdi»-
turbed by its ondnoos-looldnf warren of private rooms,
and apathetic before its meretridons blondes.

Yet at no thne was I one of the drde about me. At
no time was I anytfafaig more than a spectator of their
everndiiftinsf and ever-myziifyin|f dramas. And this
not unnatural e e cr e ti v en eas on tiieir part, combiwd
with a not unnatural curiodty of my own, finally com-
pelled me to a method of espionage in which I giew
to take tome little pride

This method, for all its ingenuity, was siqiple enough
to mxf oat of evoi ordinaiy sdentifie attainments.
When I found, for example, that ^ more a^Attt of
those underworid conferences invariably took pbcr hi
one of that tier of wobd-partitkmed drinldngnro i
whidi fined tiie cafe's east side, I p erc dv ed that L I
cocdd not faivade those rooms in body I migiit At kairt
be there in another form. So vt) *: tihe he p of my
friend Durkhi, the reformed wire-taf.per, I acquired a
piece of mfff*i"*'y for the projection of die qiirit into
uuweKome corners.

This instrument. In fact, was fitdc more than an en-
'fafgement of the or^Bnary tel ephone tranmitter. It
was made by attaddng to an oUong of ghMS, oonstitnt-
Ing of course, an hisuhited base, two caiben airports,

i82 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

III

!• 1

11 fl

with cavities, and four cro68-i»eces, also of carbon,
with pointed ends, fittii^ loosely into the cavities
placed along the side of the two supports. The result
was, this carbon being what electricians call "a high
resistance" and the loose contact-points where the lat-
erals rested making resistance still higher, that all
vibration, however minute, jarred the points against
their supports and varied resistance in proportion to
the vibration itself. This, of course, produced a chang-
ing current in the "primary" of the induction coil, and
was in turn reproduced, greatiy magnif.cd, in the "sec-
ondary" vi^ere with the help of a small watch-case
receiver it could be easily heard.

In odier words, I acquired a mechanical sound-mag*
nifier, a microphone, an instrument, of late called the
dictaj^ione, which translates the lightest tap of a pen-
dl-end into something which reached the ear with the
force of a hammer-Uow. And the whole thing, bat-
tery, coil, insulated wire, carbon bars and glass base,
could be carried in its leather case or thrust under wj
coat as easily as a folded opera hat

It was equally easy, I found, to kt it hang flat
against the side wall of that rancid little chambre par'
ticulUre whidi stood next to the room where most of
those star-diamber amsi»racies seemed to take place.
My roeAod oi adjusting the micrqphoBe was quite
sinqde

From Hie piloted wooden partitMo I lifted down
the gilt-framed picture of a bacchanalian lady whose
semi-nudity dissoninated tiie virtues of a champagne
which I bww to be made f nnn the refuse of the huniUl

THE PANAMA GOLD CHESTS 183

apple-evaporator. At the top-most edge of the square
of dust where this picture had stood, I carefully
screwed two L-hooks and on these hooks hung my
microi^one-base. Then I rehung the picture, leaving
it there to screen my apparatus. My cloth-covered
wires, which ran from this picture to the back of the
worn leather couch against the wall, I very nicely con-
cealed by pinning close under a stretch of gas pipe and
poking in under the edge of the tattered brown lino-
leum.

Yet it was only on the third evening of my mildly
exhilarating occupation in that stuffy little camera
obscura that certain things occurred to rob my espion-
age of its impersonal and half-hearted excitement. I
had ordered a bottle of Chianti and gone into that
room to all intents and purposes a diffident and maun-
dering hon^fivant loddng for nothing more than a
quiet comer wherein to doze.

Yet for one long hour I had sat in that secret audi-
torium, with my watch-case receiver at my ear, while
a garrulous quartette of strike-breakers enlarged on the
beatitude of beating up a "cop" who had ill-used one
of their number.

It must have been a ful] half hour after tiiey had
goat before I again lifted the phone to my ear. What
I heard this time was another man's voice, alert, eager,
a little high-pitched with excitement

"I tell you, Chude," tiiis thin eager voice was declar-
ing, "the thing's a pipe! I got it worked out like a
game o' checkers. But Redney 'nd me can't do a thing
unless you stake us to a boat and a batch o' toolsr

184 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

"What kind o' tools?" asked a deep and caTernoos
bass voice. In that voice I could feel cauUon and
stolidity, even an overtone of autocratic indifference

"Ten bones'd get the whole outfit," was the other's
answer.

"But what kmd o' tools?" insisted the unperturbed
bass voice.

There was a second or two of silence.

'That's spielin' the whole song," demurred the other.

"Well, the whole song's what I want to know," was
the cahn and cavernous answer. "You'll recall that
three weeks ago I staked you boys for that express-
wagon job— and I ain't seen nothing from it yet I"

"Aw, that was a frame-up," protested the first
speaker. "Some squealer was layin' for usP'

It was a new voice that spoke next, a husky and
quavering voice, as though it came from an alkaline
throat not infrequently irrigated with fusel-oU whisky.

"Tony, we got to let Chuck in on this. We got to I"

"Why'vewegotto?"

*Two men can't work it alone," complained the
latest speaker. "You know that We can't take
chances— and Gawd knows there's enough for three in
this haul I"

Agam there was a brief silence.

"You make me sick!" suddenly exploded the treble-
voiced youth who had first spoken. "You'd think it
was me who's been singin' about keepm' this thim? so
quiet I"

"What're you boys beefin' about, anyway?" inter-
posed the i^add bass voice.

THE PANAMA GOLD CHESTS

185

"I ain't beefin' about you. I ain't kickin' against
lettin' you in. But what I want to know is how're we
goin' to split when you me in ? Who folUed this thing
up from the first? Who did the dirty work on it?
Who nosed round that pier and measured her off, and
got a bead on the whole lay-out?"

"Then what'd you take me in for?" demanded the
worthy called Rcdncy. "Why didn't you go ahead and
hog the whole thing, without havin' me trailin' round ?"

"Cut that out You know I've got to have help,"
was the treble^noted retort. "You know it's too big
for one guy to handle."

"And it's so big you've got to have a boat and out-
fit," suggested the boss-voiced man. "And I'll bet
you and Redney can't raise two bits between you."

"But y(m get me a tub with a kicker in, and two or
three tools, and then you've got the nerve to hold me
up for a third rakcoffl"

"I don't see as I'm holdin' anybody up," retorted
the deep-voiced man. "You came to me, and I told
you I was ready to talk business. You said you wanted
help. Well, if you want help you've got to pay for it,
same as I pay for those cigars."

"I'm willin' to pay for it," answered the high-voiced
youth, with a quietn^s not altogether divorced from
sulkiness.

"Then what're we wastin* good time over?" inquired
the man known as Redney. "This ain't a case o' milk-
in' coffee-bags from a slip-lighter. This haul's big
enough for three."

"Well, what %s your haul?" demanded the bast voke.

i'l:

i86 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

Again there was a silence of several seconds.

"Cough it up," prompted Redncy. The silence that
ensued seemed to imfjy that the younger man was
slowly and reluctantly arriving at a change of front.
There was a. sound of a chair being pushed back, of a
match being struck, of a glass being put down on a
table-top.

"Chuck," said the treble-voiced youth, with a slow
and unpressive solemnity that was strangely in con-
trast to his earUer speech, "Chuck, we're up against
the biggest stunt that was ever pulled off in this burg
of two-bone pikers!"

"So you've been insinuatin'," was the answer that
came out of the silence. "But I've been sittin' here
half an hour waitin' to get a line on what you're chew-
in' about"

"Chuck," said the t-eble voice, "you read the papers,
don't you?"

"Now and then," acknowledged the diffident bass
voice.

"Well, did you see yesterday morning where th«»
steamer Finance was rammed by the White Star
GeorgicT Where she went down in the Lower Bay
before she got started on her way south?"

"I sure did."

"Well, did you read about her carryin* six hundred
and ten thousand dollars in gold — ^in gold taken from
the Sub-Treasury here and done up in wooden boxes
and consigned for that Panama Construction Com-
p'ny."

"I sure did"

THE PANAMA GOLD CHESTS

187

"And did your eye fall on the item ^t all day
yesterday the divers fnnn the wreddii' coiiq>'ny were
workin' on that steamer, workin' like niggers gettin'
that gold out of her strong room?"

"Surer

'^'.^d do you happen to know where that gold is
now?" was the oratorical challenge flung at the other
man.

"Just wait a minute/' rem^irked that other man in
his h«ivy gutturaL "Is that your coup?"

"That's my coup!" was the confident retort

"Well, you've pidced a lemcMi," the big man calmly
annotmced. "There's nothin' doin', kiddo, nothiu'
doin'I"

"Not on your life," was the tense retort "I know
what I'm talkin' about And Redney knows.''

"And / know that gold went south on the steamer
'Advance'* proclaimed the boss voice. "I happen to
know th^ re^shipped the whole bunch o' metal on their
second steamer."

"Where'd you find that out?" demanded the scof-
fing treble voice.

"Not bein' in the SuKTreasury this season, I had
to fall back on the papers for the news."

"And that's where you and the papers is in dead
wrong! That's how tl^'re foolin' you and ev*iy
other guy not in the know. I'll tell you where that
gold is. I'll tdl you where it lies, to tiie foot, at this
minute I"

"Wen?"

"She's lyin' in the store-room in a pile o* wooden

st-t

J. J

i ;

i88 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

boxes, on that Panama Comp'ny's pier down at the
foot o' Twenty-eight' Street!"

"You're dreamin', Tony, dreamin*. No sane folks
leave gold lyin' round loose that way. No, sir; that's
what they've got a nice stone Sub-Treasury for."

'•Look a' here, Chuck," went on the tense treble
voice. "Jus* figure out what day this is. And find
out when them wreckers got that gold cut o' the
Finance's strong room. And what d'you get? They
lightered them boxes up the North River at one o'clock
Saturday afternoon. They swung in next to the Ad-
vance and put a half-a-dozen cases o' lead paint aboard.
Then they tarpaulined th«n boxes o' gold and swung
into the Panama Comp'ny's slip and unloaded that
cargo at two o'clock Saturday aftemoonf*

"•Well, s'pose they did?"

"Don't you tumble? Saturday aftemocm there's no
Sub-Treasury open. And to-day's Sunday, ain't it?
And they won't get into that Sub-Treasury until to-
morrow morning. And as sure as I know I'm sittin*
in this chair I know that gold's lyin' out there on that
Twenty-eight' Street pier!"

No one in that little room seemed to stir. They
seemed to be setting in silent tableau. Then I could
hear the man witli the bass voice slowly and medita-
tively intone his low-life expletive.

"WeU, I'll be damned!"

The 3roungest of the trio spoke again, in a lowered
but none the less tense voice.

"In gold, Chuck, pure gold! In fine jrellow gold
lyin' there waitin' to be rolled over and looked after!

THE PANAMA GOLD CHESTS

189

Talk about treasure-huntin'i Talk about Spanish
Mains and pirate ships! My Gawd, Qiuck, we dcm't
need to travel down to no Mosquito Coast to dig up
our doubloons I We got 'em rij^t here at our back
door!"

Some one struck a matdi.

"But how're we goin' to pick *em?" placidly inquired
the man called Chuck. It was as ai^>arent that he al-
ready counted himself one of the party as it was that
their intention had not quite carried him off his feet

"Look here," broke in the more fiery-minded youth
known as Tony, and from the sound and the short
interludes of silence he seemed to be drawing a nap
on a slip of pa^r. "Here's your pier. And here's
your store-room. And here's where your gcAd lies.
And here's the first door. And here's the second. We
don't need to count on the doors. They've got a watdi-
man somewhere about here. And they've put two of
their special guards here at the land end of the pier.
The store-room itself is empty. Th^'ve got it double-
locked, and a closed-circuit alarm sjrstem to cinch the
Aing. But what t'ell use is all that when we can eat
rij^t straight up into the bowels o' that roc»n without
touchin' a lock or a burglar alarm, without makin' a
sotmdl"

"How?" inquired the bass voice.

"Here's your pier bottom. Here's th^ river slip.
We row into that slip without showin' a light, and
with the kicker shut off, naturally. We slide in under
without makin* a sound. Then we get our measure-
ments. Then we make fast to this pile, and throw out

190 THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

a line to this one, and a second to this one, to hold ui
««dy against the tide and the ferry wash. Then we

^^Z."^'^^"^' W« <^ do that by pokin' a
flashlight up against 'em where it'U never be seen.

I^TJl "f". ^ ?"*? ^^ Wt and run a row of holes
across that plank, the two rows about thirty inches
apart, each nole touchin' the other. Don't you see, with
a good sharp extension bit we can cut out that square
m half an hour or so, without makin' any more noise
^^ youd make scratchin' a match on your pants

"And when you get your square?"

"Then Redncy and me climbs through. Redney'U
^ the stall. He watches the door from the inside.
You stay m the boat, with an eye peeled below. I

^^Zu"^^^: ^^<^*^«>«^«»d slip off with the
tid^ When we're out o' hearin' we throw on the
kicker and go kitin' down to that Bath Beach joint
o yours where we'U have that six hundred and ten
thousand m gold melted down and weighed out before
ttiey get that store-room door unlocked in the morn-

"Not so loud, Tony; not so loud!" cautioned the
sTnT'" ''' ' ''"'""'' ^^^' ™ * ^^'-'

^one, I heard the sound of steps as they approached
my door and came to a stop.

"Listen !" suddenly whispered one of the men in the
otner room.

As I sat there, listening as intently as my neighbors,

THE PANAMA GOLD aiESTS

191

the knob of my door turned. Then the door itself was
impatiently shaken.

That sound trought me to my feet with a start of
alarm. Accident had enmeshed me in a movement that
was too gigantic to be overloc^ed. The one thing I
could not afford, at such a time, was discovery.

Three siloit steps took me across the room to my
microj^one. One movement lifted that telltale instm-
ment from its hooks, and a second movement jerked
free the wires pinned in close along the gas pipe. An-
other movement or two saw my i^>paratus sliiq>ed into
its case and the case dropped down behind the worn
leather-couch back. Then I sank into the chair beside
the table, knowing there was nothing to betray me.
Yet as I lounged there over n^ bottle of ChianH I
could feel the excitement of the moment accelerate my
pulse. I made an effort to get n^ feeling^ under con-
trol as second t^ secmd slipped away and nothing of
importance took place. It was, I decided, n^ wall-
eycd Mraiter friend, doubtlessly bearing a message that
more lucrative patrons were desiring my fetid-aired
cubby-hole.

Then, of a sudden, I became aware of the fact Hxat
voices wf re whispering dose outside my door. The
next moment I heard die crunch of wood subjected
to pressure, and before I could move or realize the
full meaning of that sound, the door had been forced
open and three men were staring in at me.

I lodc^ up at tiiem with a start— with a start, ftaw-
ever, which I had the in^r^ foresight to translate
into a hiccough. That hiccough, in turn, reminded

193 THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

i
i

•I i

that I had a role to sustain, a rtk of care-irce and
irreqminUe intoxication.

So, opprobrious as the whole hxct seemed to mt,
I pushed my hat back on my head and blinkingly stared
at the three intruders as they sauntered nonchalantly
into the room. Yet as I winked up at them, with all
the sleepy unconcern at my command, I could plainly
enough see that each one of that trio was very much on
the alert It was the youngest of the three who turned
to me.

"Kiddo," he said, and he spoke with an dly suavi^
not at all to my liking, "I kind o' thought I smelt gas
leakin' in here."

He had the effrontery to turn and stare about at
the four waUs of the room. Thai he moved easily
across the floor to where the champagne picture hung.
What he saw, or did not see there, I had no means of
determining. For to turn and look after him would
be to betray n^ part

"That leak ain't in this room," admitted the second
of the trio, a swarthy and looi'c-lipped land pirate with
a sweep of carroty bang wmch covered his left eye-
brow. I knew, even before he spoke, that he was the
man called Redney, just as I knew the first speaker
was the youth they had addressed as Tony. About the
third man, who towered above the other two in his
giant-like stature, there was a sense of calm and sdid-
ity that seemed nbnost pachydermatous. Yet this same
solidity in aomc way warned me that he might be the
most dangerous of them all.

' 'Sssh all righM" I loosely condoned, with a sleepy

THE PANAMA GOLD CHESTS

193

lurch of the body. How much ray acdnf wai convinc-
ing to them was a matter of vast concern to me. The
man named Toi^, who had coittintied to ^udy tlw
wooden partition against which my microphone had
hung, turned bade to the table and calmly seated him-
self beside me. My heart went down like an elevator
with a broken cable when I noticed the nervous sweat
whidi had come out on his forehead.

"Say, Sister, this puts the drinks on us," he de-
clared, with an airiness which I felt to be as unreal as
n^ own inebriacy. I saw him motion for Uw other
two to seat themsehres.

They did so, a little mystified, each man keeping hit
eyes fixed on the youth called Tony. The ktter
laughed, for no reason that I could understaikl, and
over his shoulder bawled out the one wcu-d, "Shim-
mey!"

Shimmey, I remembered, was my friend the wall-
eyed waiter. And this waiter it was who stepped trail-
ingly into the room.

"Shimmey," said the voluble youth at my side. "We
tntrooded on this gen'lmun. And we got to square
ourselves. So what's it goin' to be?"

"Nothin'l" I protested, with a repi^;nant wave of
the hand. /

"You mean we ain't good enough for you to drink
witli?" demanded the youth called Tony. I could see
what he wanted. I could fed what was coining. He
was loddng for some reason, howevo- tenuous, to
start trouble. Without fail he would find it in time.
But my <me desire was to defer that outcome as long

194 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

at pOMibtft So I frinned tMck at him, rather idioti-
cally, rm afraid

"AU righ'," I wealdy agreed, blinking about at my
t o m ien tort. ''Bring me a bran'y an' soda."

The other three men looked at the waiter. The
waiter, in turn, looked at them. Then he studied my
&ce. There was something decidedly unpleasant in
his cddty speculative eyes.

"Shimmey,d'you understand? This genlmun wants
A brandy and soda."

The waiter, still studying me, said "Sure!" Then
he turned on his heel and walked out of the room.

I knew, in my prophetic bones, that there was some
form of trouble iM'ewing in that odoriferous little
room. But I was determined to side-step it, to avoid
it, to the last extremity. And I was still nodding
amiably about when the waiter returned with his tray
of glasses.

"Well, here's how," said the youth, and we all lifted
our glasses.

That brandy and soda, I knew, would not be the
best of its kind. I also clearly saw that it would be
unwise to decline it. So I swallowed the stuff as a
child swallows medicine.

I downed it in a gulp or two, and put the glass
back on the table. Then I proceeded to wipe my
mouth with the back of my hand, after the approved
fashion of my environment.

It was fortunate, at that moment, that my hand was
weH up in front of my face. For as the truth of the
whole thing came honw to me, as diarp and quidc as

^:|

THE PANAMA GOLD CHESTS 195

an electric tpuk, there mutt hive been a Mcond or two
when my r61e slipped away from me.

I had, it it true, inwardly fortified myidf againit
a draught that would prove highly unpakUal^. But
the taste which I now detected, the acrid, unmistakable,
over-familiar taste, was too much for my startled
nerves. I hid my sudden body-movement only by
-neans of a simulated hiccough. The thing I had un-
mistakably tasted was chloral hydrate. They had
given me knodc-out drqps.

The idea, of a sudden, struck me as bdng so ludi-
crous that I laughed. The mere thought of any such
maneuver was too mudi for me — ^the foolish hope that
a homeopathic little pill of chloral would put me under
the table, like any shopgirl lured from a dance-hall 1
They were trying to drug me. Drug me, who had
taken double and triple doses night after night as I
fought for sleep!

They were trying to drug me, me who en my bad
nights had even known the narcotic to be forcibly
wrested from my dutdi by those who stood uppf ed
at the quantities that my too-immured system de-
manded, and knew only too well that in time it meant
madness!

But I remembered, as I saw the three men staring^
at me, that I still had a role to sustain. I knew it
would be unwise to let those sweet worthies know just
how the land lay. I enjoyed an advantage mudi too
exceptional and much too valuable to be lightly sur-
rendered.

So to an outward ngns and af^iearanca I let the

196 THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

drug do its work. I carcf uUy acted out my pretended
lapse into somnolent indifference. I lost the power to
coordinate; my speech grew inarticulate: my shoul-
dcrs drooped forward across the table edge. I wilted
down hke a cut dock-weed, until my^ace lay flat
agamst the beer-stained wood.

"He's off," murmured the man called Chuck. He
rose to his feet as he spoke.

"Then we got to beat it," declared the youth named
Tony alr^dy on his fecL I could hear him take a
deep breath as he stood there. "And the next long
nose who gives me heart disease like this is goin' to
get five mches o' cold steel !"

He knelt before me as he spcke. pulled back my feet,
and ran a knife edge along the shoe laces. Then he
promptly pulled the shoes from my feet These shoes,
apparently, he kept in his hand. "That'U help ancho^
im, I guess," I heard him remark.

V J*^' • ^ °" ^"^ ^°*''" '"««^*^ ^^ Wff 'nan. olx
viously impatient at the delay. "If there's nothin' but

^c inches o plank between us and that gold, let's get
I sat there with my head on that table top so

listened to t^em as they moved across the room. I

S r "^r ^'!^ °"* *"^ '^""^ *<^ ^oor shut
behind hem. I waited there for another minute or
two. without moving, knowing only too well what a
second discovery would entail.
^^T^^ was stin bent over that unclean table top
when I heard the brdcen-latched door once mc^

THE PANAMA GOLD CHESTS

197

pushed slowly open, and steps slowly croM the flo<M*
to where I sat.

Some one, I knew, was staring down at me. I felt
four distended finger-tips pu^ inquisitively at n^
head, rolling it a little to one side. Then the figure
bending above me shifted its position. A hand felt
cautiously about my body. It strayed lower, until it
reached my watch pocket

I could see nothing of nay enemy's face, and noth-
ing of his figure. All I got a glin^ of was a patch
"of extremely soiled linen. But that glimpse was suf-
ficient It was my friend, the wall-eyed waiter, reso-
lutely deciding to make hay while the sun shone. And
that decided me.

With one movement I rose from the chair and
wheeled about so as to face lum. That quick body-
twist spun his own figure half-way around.

My fist caught him on the foreward side of the re-
laxed jawbone. He struck the worn leather couch as
he fell, and then rolled completely over, as inert as
a sack of bran.

I looked down at him for a moment or two as he
lay face toward on the floor. Then I dropped on oat
knee beside him, unlaced his well-worn and square-
toed shoes, and calmly but quietly adjusted them to
my own feet

Once out in the street I qtiickoied my 8te{» and
rounded the first ocntier. Then I hurried on, turning
still another, and still another, making doubly sure I
was leavtng no chance to be trailed. Tben I swung
aboard a cross-town caj-, aliglvdng ^;aiQ at a c<»mer

1 -ii

i-i it

198 THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

flashing with the vulgar brilliance of an all-night drug
store.

I went straight to the telephone booth of that drug
store, and there I promptly called up police headquar-
ters. I felt, as I asked for Lieutenant Bclton, a person
of some importance. Then I waited while the precious
moments flew by.

Lieutenant Belton, I was finally informed, was at
his room in the Hotel York, on Seventh Avenue. So
I rang up the Hotel York, only to be informed that the
lieutenant was not in.

I slammed the receiver down on its hook and ended
that foolish colloquy. I first thought of Patrohnan
McCooey. Then I thought of Doyle, and then of
Creegan, my old detective friend. Then with a jaw-
grip of determination I caught that receiver up again,
ordered a taxicab, paid for my calls, consulted my
watch, and paced up and down like a caged hyena,
waiting for my cab.

Another precious ten minutes slipped away before
I got to Creegan's door in Forty-third Street. Then I
punched the bell-button above the mail-box, and stood
there with my finger on it for exactly a minute and a
half.

I suddenly remembered that the clicking door
latch beside me implied that my entrance was being
automatically solicited. I stepped into the dimly light-
ed hall and made my way determinedly up the narrow
carpeted stairs, knowing I would get face to face with
Creegan if I had to crawl through a fanlight and pound
in his bedroom door.

THE PANAMA GOLD CHESTS 199

But it was Grecian himself who confronted me as
I swung about the banister turn of that shadowy sec-
ond landing.

"You wake those kids up," he solemnly informed
me, "and m kill you!"

"Greegan," I cried, and it seemed foolish that I
should have to inveigle and coax him into a crusade
which meant infinitely more to him than to me, "I'm
going to make you famous !"

"How soon?" he diflSdently inquired.

"Insidr: of two hours' time," was my answer.

"Don't wake those kidst" he commanded, looking
bade oiver his shoulder.

I caught him by the sleeve, and held him there, for
some vague premonition of a sudden withdrawal and
a bolted door made me desperate. And time, I knew,
was getting short

"For heaven's sake, listen to me," I said as I held
him. And as he stood there under the singing gas-jet,
with his hurriedly lit and skeptically tilted stogie
in one comer of his mouth, I told him in as few ^\ rds
as I could what had happened that night

"Gome in while I get me boots on," he quietly re-
marked, leading me into an unfighted hallway and from
that into a bedroom about the size of a ship's calm
"And speak low," he said, with a nod toward tfie rear
end of the hall. Then as Iw sat (m the edge of the bed
pulling on his shoes he ma(te me recount everything
for the second time, slofiping me with an occasional
qtwstion, fixti^ me oceasiomdly with a cogitative eye.

"But we haven't a minute to hMe," I muned him,

i :

-i ■

•I I

aoo THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP '

for the second time, as he slipped away into a remoter
cubby-hole of a room to see, as he put it, "if the kids
were keeping covered."

He rejoined me at the stairhead, with the softest
of Irish smiles still on his face. By the time we had
reached the street and stepped into the waiting taxi,
that smile had disappeared. He merely smoked
another stogie as we made our way toward the end
of Twenty-eighth Street

At Tenth Avenue, he suddenly decided it was better
for us to go on foot. So he threw away his stogie end,
a little ruefully, and led me down a street as narrow
and empty as a river bed. He led me into a part of
New York that I had never before known. It was
a district of bald brick walls, of roug^ flag and cobble-
stone underfoot, of lonely street lamps, of shipping
platforms and unbroken warehouse sides, of storage
yards and milk depots, with railway tracks bisecting
streets as empty as though they were the streets of a
dead city. No one appeared before us. Nothmggave
signs of being alive in that area of desolate ugliness
which seemed like the back yard of aU the worW con-
centrated in a few huddled squares.

We were almost on West Street itself before I was
conscious of the periodic sound of boat whistles com-
plaining through the night. The air, I noticed, took
on a fresher and cleaner smclL Creegan, without
speaking, drew me in close to a wall-end. at the comer,
and together we stood staring out toward the Hudson!

Directly in front of us, beyond a forest of bantlt
which stippled the asphalt, a veritable dty of barrels

THE PANAMA GOLD CHESTS 201

that looked like tiie stumpage of a burned-over Do\^^
las-pme woodland, stood the fagade of the Panama
Company s pier structure. It looked substantial and
solemn enot^, under its sober sheeting of corru-
gated iron. And two equally solemn figures, somber
and silent in their dark overcoats, stood impassively
on guard before its closed doors.

"Come on," Creegan finally whispered, walking
quickly south to the end of Twenty-seventh Street.
He suddenly stopped and caught at my arm to arrest
my own steps. We stood there, listening. Out of the
silence, iq>parently f nmi mid-river, sounded the quidc
staccato coughing of a gasoline motor. It sounded
for a moment or two, and then it grew silent

We stood there without moving. Then the figure
at my side seemed stung into sudden madness. With-
out a word of warning or explanation, my companion
dudced down and went dodging m and out between
the huddled clumps of barrels, threading a circuitous
path toward the slip edge. I saw him drop down on
all fours and peer over the string-piece. Then I saw
him draw back, rise to his feet, and run northward
toward the pier door where the two watdmien stood.

What he said to those watdmien I had no means of
knowing. One of them, however, swung about and
tattooed on the door with a night-stick before Creegan
could catch at his arm and stop him. Before I could
join them, some one from within had thrown open the
door. I saw Creegan and die first man dive into the
chin-aired, high-vaulted building, with its exotk odors
of si»ce and coffee and mysterious trofncal bales. I

¥ ■

i 5

202 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

heard somebody call out to turn on the lights, and
then Creegan's disgustedly warning voice call back for
him to shut up. Then somewhere in the gloom inside
a further coUoquy took place, a tangle of voices, a caU
for quietness, followed by a sibilant hiss of caution.

Creegan appeared in the doorway again. I could
see that he was motionmg for me.

"Come on," he whispered. And I tiptoed in after
him, under that echoing vaulted roof where the outline
of a wheeled gangway looked oddly like the skeleton
of some great dinosaur, and the pungent spicy odors
took me at one breath two thousand miles southward
into the Tropics.

"Take off those shoes," quietly commanded Creegan.
And I dropped beside him on the bare pier planks and
slipped my feet out of Shimmey's ungainly toed shoes.

A man moved aside from a door as we stepped
silently up to it. Creegan turned to whisper a word
or two in his ear. Then he opened the door and led
me by the sleeve into the utter darkness within, clos-
ing and locking the door after him.

I was startled by the sudden contact of Creegan's
groping fingers. I realized that he was thrusting a
short cylindrical object up against my body

"Take this," he whispered.

"What is it?*' I demanded in an answering whisper.

•It's a flashlight Press here— see! And throw it
on when I say so!"

I took the flashlight, pressed as he told me, and saw
a feeble glow of light from its glass-g»obed end. About
this end he had swathed a cotton pocket handkerchief

THE PANAMA GOLD CHESTS 203

More actual illumination would have come from a
tallow candle. But it seemed sufficient for Creegan'a
purpose. I could see him peer about, step across to a
pile of stout wooden boxes, count them, testone as to
its weight, squint bnce more searchingly about the
room, and then drop full length on the plank flooring
and press his ear to the wood.

He writhed and crawled about there, from one quar-
ter of the room to another, every minute or so pressing
an ear against the boards under him, for all the world
like a physician sounding a patient's lungs. He kept
returning, I noticed, to one area in the center of the
room, not more than a yard away from the pile of
wooden boxes. Then he leaned forward on his knees,
his hands supporting his body in a grotesque bear-like
posture. He continued to kneel there, intently watch-
ing the oak plank directly in front of him.

I saw one hand suddenly move forward and feel
along an inch or two of this plank, come to a stop, and
then suddenly raise and wave in the air. I did not
realize, at ihzt moment, that the signal was for me.

"Put her out," he whispered. And as I lifted my
thumb from the contact point the room was again
plunged into utter darkness. Yet through that dark-
ness I could hear a distinct sotmd, a minute yet un-
mistakable noise of splintering wood, followed by an
even louder sound, as though an auger were being
withdrawn from a hole in the planking at my feet

Then up from the floor on which Creegan knelt
a thin ray of light flickered and wavered and disap-
peared. A rund>le of guarded vdices crq>t to my ears,

:' I-

204 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

and again I could detect that faint yet pregnant gnaw^
ing sound as the busy auger once more ate into the
oalc i^anking on which we stood.

I suddenly felt Creegan's hand grope against my
knee. He rose to his feet beside me.

"It's all right," he whispered, with a cabnness which
left me a little ashamed of my own excitement "You
stay here until I come back."

I stood there listening to the slight noise of the door
as he opened it and closed it after him. I stood there
as I once more heard the telltale splintering of wood,
indicating that the auger had completed its second hole
through the planking. Then came the sound of its
withdrawal, and again the wavering pencil of light as
the men under the pier examined their work aad
adjusted their auger-end for its next perforation.

A new anxiety began to weigh on me. I began to
wonder what could be keeping Creegan so long. I
grew terrified at the thought that he might be too Urte.
Vague contingencies on which I had failed to reckon
began to present themselves to me. I realized that
those three desperate men, once they saw I was again
coming between them and their ends, would be satis-
fied with no half measure.

Then occurred a movement which nearly brought
a cry from my startled lips. A hand, reaching slowly
out through the darkness, came in contact with my
knee, and dutched it. That contact, coming as it did
without warning, without reason, sent a horripilating
diill through all my body. The wonder was that I
did not kick out, Hke a frightened colt, or start to flail

It h

THE PANAMA GOLD CHESTS 205

about mewhh my fltsMiiH AH I did. however, was
to twist and swiiigr vmy. Yet before I could get to
my feet, the hand had dntcfaed the side of my coat
And as those dutching fingers held there, I heard a
voice whisper out of the darkness:

''Here, take this," and the moment I heard it I was
able to breathe agahi, for I knew it was Creegan.
"You may need it"

He was hokling what I took to be a policeman's
night-stick up hi front of me. I took it from him,
marveltng how he couM have re-entered that room
without toy hearing him.

'There's a light-switch agamst the watt there, they
say," was his next whispered message to me. "Find
it Keep back there and throw it on if I give the
word."

I f dt and pawed and padded about At waU for
an uncertain moment or twa "Got it?" came Cree-
gan's whispering voice across the darknen.

"Yes." I whispered bade.

He did not sjwak again, for a newer somid fdl on
both his ears and mine. It was a sound of prod^og
and prying, as though the men bdow were jinvnyhig
at their loosened square of {banking.

I leaned forward, listening, for I could hear iht
squeak and grate of the shiftmg thnber btock. I did .
not hear it actually fall away. But I was suddenly
consdous of a breath of cooler air in die nota where I
stood and the pernstent ripple of wal^ agamst pik-
ddes.

Then I heard a treble voice say, "A littie higher.*'

ao6 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

The ipeaker seemed so dose that I felt I could have
itooped down and touched his body. I knew, even
before I saw the spurt of flame where he struck a match
atong the floor, that the man was ahready half-way
up through the hole. I could see the dirt-covered,
claw-like hand as it held the match, nursing the thiy
flame, patiently waiting for it to grow. It was not
until this hand held the flaring match up before his
very face that Creegan moved.

That movement was as simple as it was unexpected
I had no distinct vision of it, but I knew what it
meant I knew, the moment I heard the dull and sick-
ening impact of seasoned wood against a human skull-
bone.

There was just one Wow. But it was so well placed
that a second seemed unnecessary. Then, as far as
I could judge, Creegan took hold of the stunned man
and drew him bodily up through the hole in the floor.

A moment later a voice was saying, "Here, pull!"
And I knew that the second man was on his way up
into the room.

What prevented Creegan from repeating his ma-
neuver with the night-stick I could not teU. But I
knew the second attack was not the clean-cut job of
the first, for even as Creegan seized the body half-way
up through the opening, the struggle must have begun.

The consciousness that that struggle was not to be
promptly decided, that a third factor might at any
moment appear in the fight, stung me into the neces-
sity of some sort of Mind action on my own part I
remembered the first man, and that he would surely

i*y

THE PANAMA GOLD CHESTS Jo;

be armed I ran out toward the center of the room,
stuipbled over the boxes of gold, and feU tprawling
along the floor. Without to much at getting on n^
feet again I grope out until I found the prottrate
body. It took me only a moment to feel about that
limp mass, discover the revolver, and draw it from
iu pocket I was still on my knees when I heard
Creegan call out through the darkness.
"The lightr he gasped. "Turn on the light r
I swung reddessly about at the note of alarm hi his
voice and tried to grope my way toward Wm. Only
some test extremity could have wrung tiiat call from
him. It was only too phUn that his position was now
a perilous one. But what that peril was I could not
decipher.

"Where are you?*' I gasped, feeUng that wherever
he by he needed help, that the quickest service I could
render him would be to reach his side
"The light, you fool!" he cr: J out 'TheUghtr
I dodged and groped back to the wall where I felt
the light-switch to be. I had my fingers actually on the
switch when an arm like the arm of a derrick itself
swung about through the darkness, and at one stroke
knocked the breath out of my body and flattened me
against the wall Before I could recover my breath,
a second movement spun me half around and lifted
me dear off my feet By this time the great arm was
close about me, pinnii^ n^ haikb down to my dde.

Before I could cry out or make an effort to eso^
the great hulk holding me had shifted his grip, bringing
me abottf directly in front of him and boMin^ me there

KJ£^

ao8 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

111!

Ifff

ii;

with nicfa a powerful gnap that It made breathing a
thing of torture. And at he held me there, he reached
out and turned on the light with hit own hand I
knew, e?cn before I actualljr law him, tiiat it wat the
third man.

I alM knew, even before that light came on, what
his purpoie was. He was holding me there as a
shield in front of him. This much I realized even
before I saw the revolver with which he was menacing
the enemy in front of him. What hekl my blinking
and bewildered eyes was the fact that Creegan him-
self, on the far side of the room, was holding the
ttruggling and twisting lody of the man called Red-
ney in precisely the same position.

But what disheartened me was the discovery that
Creegan held nothing but a night-stick in his left hand
All the strength of his right hand, I could see, was
needed to hold his man. And his revohrer was still
in his pocket.

I had the presence of mind to remember my own
revolver. And my predicament made me desperate.
That gang had sown their dragon teeth, I decided,
and now Uiey could reap their harvest

I made a pretense of struggling away from my cap-
tor's clutch» but all the while I was worWng one elbow
back, farther and farther back, so that a hand could
be thrust into my coat pocket I reached the pocket
without being noticed My fingers closed about the
butt of the revolver. .\nd still my purpose had not
been discovered

As I lifted that firearm from my pocket I was no

THE PANAICA! GOLD CRESTS S09

iongv A rcuoninf mmtii Dtu^* At Qw msm imt
I fdt diif red flash of rife through nj bod)r» I alio
f dt the chitch about nqr wdtt rdax. The Ug maa
behind me was ejaculadog a tingle word. It wai
"Cretgimr'

Why that one shout shonld have the dcbifitathig
effect on Creegan whkh it did, I had no means of
knowing. But I saw the swcat^«tahied and blood-
marlced face of my ooHeague soddenljr diange. His
eyes stared sttipidly» his jaw feU, and he itood there,
panting and open-moothed, u tiioiigh the UMt drop of
courage had been driven out of his body.

I feh that he was giving up, that he was surrender-
ing, even before I saw him let tfw man he had been
holding fall away from him. But I r emembered the
revolver in my hand and the igcotnfaiies I had suffered.
And again I felt that wave of smnething s tr o ng er
than my own will, and I knew that my moment had
come.

I had the revolver at half-arm, with its muzzle in
against the body crushing mine, when Creegan's voice,
sharp and short as a baric armted that impending
finger-twitch.

"Stop t" he cried, and the horror of his voice puzzled
me.

"Why?" I demanded in a new and terriUe cafan.
But I did not lower my revolver.

"Stop thatl" he shouted, and his newer note, nK>re
of anger than fear, bewildered me a tnt

"Whyr

But Creq;an, as he caught at the coat coQar of tiie

12IO THE MAN ^VHO COULDN'T SLEEP

• ,

man called Redncy, did not answer my repeated ques-
tion. Instead, he stared at the man beside me.
"Well, I'll be damned!" he finally murmured.
"What t' heU are you doin' here ?" cut in the big man
as he pushed my revolver-end away and dropped his
own gun into his pocket "I've been trailin' these
guys for five weeks— and I want to know why you're
queerin' my job!"

Creegan, who had been feeling his front teeth be-
tween an investigatory thumb and forefinger, blinked
up at the big man. Then he turned angrily on me.
• "Put down that gun!" he howled. He took a deep
breath. Then he laughed, mirthlessly, disgustedly.
"You can't shoot him!"
"Why can't I?"

"He's a stool pigeon ! A singed cat !**
"And what's a stool pigeon?" I demanded. "And
what's a singed cat?"

Creegan laughed for the second time as he wiped
his mouth with the back of his hand.

"He's a Headquarters gink who stays on the fence,
and tries to hunt with the hounds the same time he's
runnin' with the hares— and gener'ly goes round
queerin' an honest officer's work. And I guess he's
queered ours. So about the only thing for us to do,
*s far as I can see, is for us to crawl oflF home and
gotobedr

CHAPTER Vin

THE DUMMY-CHUCKSB

'WT WAS unquestionnbjy a iiiomentoos night, that
* night I discharged I^trdlle. I Ijad felt the thing
coming, for weeks. B it I had apfvirently been afraid
to face it I had temporized aiid flallied alcmg, dread-
ing the ordeaL Twice I had even bowed to tadt black-
mail, suavely disguised as mere advances of salary.
Ahnost daily, too, I had been subjected to vague in-
solences which were all the more humiliating because
they remained inarticulate and incontestable. And I
realized that the thing had to come to an end.

I saw that end when Benson reported to me that
Latreille had none too quietly entertained a friend
of his in my study, during my absence. I could have
forgiven the loss of the cigars, and the disappearance
of the cognac, but the foot-marks on my treasured old
San Domingoan mahogany console-table and the over-
turning of my Ch'ien-lung lapis bottle were things
whidi could not be overlooked.

I saw red, at that, and pronqitfy and unquaveringly
sent for Latreille. And I think I rather surprised that
cool-eyed sco«mdrel, for I had grown to know life a
little better, of late. I had learned to stand less timor-
ous before its darker sides and its rougher seams. I
could show that designing chauffeur I was no kmger
in his power by showing that I was no kmger airaid
of him. And this latter I sought to de m onstrate by

2X1

212 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

i.i> ■

promptly and cahnly and unequivocally announcing
that he was from that day and that hour discharged
from my service.

"You can't do itl" he said, staring at me with sur-
prised yet ncme the less insolent eyes.

"I have done it," I cxplamed. 'Tou'rc discharged,
now. And the sooner you get out the better it will
: suit me."

"And you're ready to take that risk?" he demanded,
studying me from under his lowered brows.

"Any risks I care to assume in this existence of
mine," I coolly informed him, "are matters which
concern me afone. Turn your keys and service-clothes
and things in to Benson. And if there's one item
missing, you'll pay for it"

"How?" he demanded, with a sneer.

"By being put where you belong," I told him.

"And Where's that?"

"Behind bars."

He laughed at this. But he stopped sh<»t as he
saw me go out to the door and fling it open. Then
he turned and faced me.

"I'll make things interesting for your he an-
nounced, sbwly and pregnantly, and with aa ugly for-
ward-thrust of Ins ugly pointed chin.

It was my .turn to laugh.

"You havf made them interesting," I acknowledged.
"But now they are getting monotonous."

They won't stay that way," he averred.

I met his eye, without a wince. I could fed my
fighting Uood getti^ hotter and hotter.

THE DUMMY-CHUCKER mj

•*Yoa understand EngHsh, don't you?" I told Wm.
"You heard me say get out, didn't you?"

He stared at me, with that black scowl of Ws, for
a full half minute. Then he turned on his heel and
stalked out of the room.

I wasn't sorry to see him go, but I knew, as he
went, that he was carrying away with him something
predous. He was carrying away with him my peace
of mind for that whole blessed night

Sleep, I knew, was out of the question. It would
be foolish even to attempt to court it I felt the
familiar neurasthenic call for open spaces, the nece*.
sity for jAysical freedom and fresh air. And it was
that I suppose, which took me wandermg off v -ward
the water-front, where I sat on a atring-piec« snicking
my seventh cigarette and thinking of Cretan and his
singed cat as I watched the light-spangled Hudson.

I had squatted there for a full half-hour, I think,
before I became even vaguely conscious of the oflier
presence so near me. I had no clear-cut memory of
that figure's advent i had no im^esdon of its move-
ment about my immediate neighborhood, I fed sore,
until my self-absorbed meditations wer* brolEen into
by the ^scovery that the stranger on the s^ihi wittrf
where I loitered had quietfy and ddi^erat^ Hsen
to an erect position. It startled fl« a Btfle, in &ct. to

find that he was standing at one end of the saute string-
piece where I si^

ThM aometUs^ about ftut figui^ brought a ttow
perplexity into my mind, as I k>unged thete tnha!^
the musky harboiH>dors, under a ifcy ^kik mmtd

214 THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

Italian in its serenity, and a soft and silvery moot
that made die shutUing ferries into shadows scaled
with Roman gold. This peiplexity grew into be-
wildemcnt, for as I studied the lean figure with its
loose-fittmg paddock-coat flapping in the wharf-end
breeze I was reminded of something disturbing of
something awesome. The gaunt form so voluminously
draped, the cadaverous face with the startUngly sunken
cheeks the touch of tragedy in the entire attitude,
brought sharply and suddenly to my mind the thought
of a shrouded and hollow-eyed symbol of Death, need-
ing only the scythe of honored tradition to translate
It mto the finished picture.

He stood there for some time, without moving,
studymg the water that ran like seamless black velvet
under the wharf-end. Then he slowly took off his

T: ?^.'* ^? P^'"^ '' °" ** string-piece, and
on top of this agam placed his hat. Then he laughed

audiWy^ I.Iooked away, dreading that some spoken
tnviaUty imght spoil a picture so appealingly mys-
tenons When I next peered up at him he seemed
engaged m the absurd occupation of slowly turning
mside out the quite empty pockets of his clothing
Then he once more looked down at the black water
Those oily velvet eddies, apparently, were too much
for him. I saw him cover his face with his hands
and sv^y bade vdth a tragicaUy helpless mutter of
I cant do itl And both the gesture and the wotds

made my mind go back to the man from Medicine
Hat.

A thousand crawling little tendrils of curiosity over-

THE DUMMY-CHUCKER

JI5

nm resentment at being thus disturbed in my quest
for solitude. I continued my overt watch of the in-
credibly thin stranger who was still peering down at
the slip-water. I was startled, a minute or two later,
to hear him emit a throat-chuckle that was as defiant
as it was disagreeable. Then with an oddly nervous
gesture of repudiation he caught up his hat and coat,
turned on his hed, and passed like a shadow down
the quietness of the deserted wharf.

I turned and followed him. The tragedy recorded
on that pallid face was above all pretense. He could
never be taken for a "dummy-chucker" ; the thing was
genuine. Any man who could squeeze life so dry that
he thought of tossing it away like an orange-skin was
worth following. He seemed a contradiction to every-
thmg in the city that surrounded us, in that mad city
where every mortal appeared so intent on living, where
the forlomest wrecks clung so feverishly to life, and
where life itself, on that munnurous and moonlit
night, seemed so full of whispered promises.

I followed him back to the dty, specuhiting, as idle
minds will, on who and what he was and by what
mischance he had been cast into this k>west pit of
indifferency. More things than his mere apparel as-
sured me he was not a "crust-thmwer." I kept close
at his heeb until we came to Broadway, startling
mysdf with the sadden wonder if he, too, were a
victim of those rdentless hounds of wakef ubess that
turn i^ght into a never-ending mquiskion.

Then all specuUnkm tuddmly ended, for I saw that
he had come to a stop and was gaaiiig ptfpleswdly up

!f '

lif

"6 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

^•cX*s."trr .*•""'■" "™^'-

whom h. .^^"ZZ ^"^T^*" Z. *"•
*»m that «a^ S™,; iTSL.T*"' *" *°°8«
dred and c^ i„ I^*, ^' ^" something kto

on the araT^ ^ ^ ■" '°'«^ "» Kshly

«nd*a^roa"i,r; »f « "« ™«ht. and

of «onde™«„t lS^t^''!r'"**«"'y»^
towarf the faade of 71^ ^^ °~ *'" """d

teT^ W^r '1™ '^ w"* of the h«ne-

*-f«oTt:j:^-t:4^*»;^

»« the innermost depfl,, of Hfe ^^I^,'**"
And both the invitation and the .^Le I .e

h-n. in th™.J*.rw."e d!^r.;flLit::?
opposite him at one of ttTZ^V? '"'*^*

«™ns of white fin«.U i^.C^t.'TSS:
^/ ^l"2d' t 'i^'' • ~^" ^. — -

THE DUMMY.CHUCKER

217

WM now eddying. It held notlmig either new or
appealing to me. It was not the first time I had
witnessed the stars of stagekmd sitting in perigean
torpor through their seven-coursed suppers, just as it
was not the first time I had meekly endured the assault-
ing vulgarities of onyx pillars and pornographic art
for the sake of what I had found to be the most match-
less cooking in America.

It seemed an equally old story to my new friend
across the table, for as I turned away from the sur-
rounding flurry of bare shoulders, as white and soft
as a flurry of gull-wings, I saw that he had ahvady
ordered a meal that was as mysteriously sumptuous
as it was startlingly expensive. He, too, was appar-
ently no stranger to Lobster Square.

I still saw no necessity for breaking the silence*
although he had begun to drink his wine with a febrile
recklessness rather amazing to me. Yet I felt that
with each breath of time die bubble of mystery was
growing bigger and bigger. The whole thing was
something more than the dare-devil adventure of a
man at the end of his tether. It was more than the
extravagamx of sheer hopelessness. It was something
which made me turn for the second time and study
his face.

It was a remaricable enough lace, remarkable for its
t h inness, ior its none too appealing paUw, and for a
certain tragfc furtiveness which showed its owner to
be not altogether at peace with his own louL About
his figure I had alrea^ detected a fxrtam note of di»-
tfaiction, of nervous briskness, which at once lifted him

«8 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP
•bove the place of the u«mlc««et*<I«ntu«r T1«.

«» ugm as tne veUum across a snarm^rt*^

™>n«eiy small wrmldes. His hands I rA„M .

S"":/'"^**~^^ white, as w^shT^^
fra^ihty as they were disquieting in their nTer^Ld^^
restless movements. InlctualyZTT^rT^^^

tonal Hrt^1.th^^rP~^°"«*""9»«-

oUo^:^Zt^ "^ -napP'.ha^ive .oon,f„,

"Because one^half of them," he avowed ",,,

harpies, and the other half are thieve,!*^ ^

a voluminous p^ldli^f ^.^^ u'^ST T
qoate payment for a repast so ZZ^^ T**"
aireadxp^ .„„^^^»^^1^ -. •»<'

THE DUMMY-CHUCKER

319

"No, I'm not," he retorted. "I'm from God'»
cotmtiy."

That doubtlessly irreproachable yet va^ely denomi-
nated territory left me so much in doubt that I had
to ask for the second time the place of his origin.

"I come from Virginia," he answered, "and if I'd
stayed there I wouldn't be where I am to-night"

As this was an axiom which seemed to transcend

criticism I merely turned back to him and asked: "And
where are you to-night?"

He lifted his glass and emptied it Then he leaned
forward across the table, staring me in the eyes as
he spoke. "Do you know the town of Hanover, down
in Virginia?"

I had to confess that I did not As he sat kx>king
at me, with a shadow of disappointment on his lean
face, I again asked him to particuUu-ize his present
whereabouts.

"I'm on the last inch of the last rope-end," was his
answer.

"It seems to have its ameliorating condition," I re-
marked, glancing about the taMe.

He emitted a shairp cackle of a bugfa.

"Youll have to leave roe before I onler die liqueur.
This," wiA a hand-sweep about the cluster of dishes,
"is some music m have.to face alone. But what's
that, when you're on the but hich of the last rope-

"Your position," I ventured, "sounds almost like a
de^ieraie one."

: H

i'i ■

H'.U :

220 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

'l>esperater he echoed. "It's more tfian ti»t It's
hqielefsf

"You have dooljtlest been visiting Wan Street or
pCMsibly buying mining-sfeock?" was my flippant sug-
gcsdcn. Hismannerof speedi,Iwasbcginniivtofeel,
was not mafkedly southern.

"No," he cried with quick solemnity. Tve been
seOmg it"

"But such activities, I assumed, were &r removed
from the avenues of remorse."

He stared at me, absently, for a moment or twi'.
Then he moved restlesdy in his dnur.

"Did you ever hear of a wire-tapper?" he demanded.

"Quite often," I answered.

"Did you ever fall for one of thdr yarns? Did
you ever walk into one of their nice, gold-f^ted traps
and have them shake you <k>wn for everything you
owned — and t > for things you didn't own?"

Here was a misfortune, I liad to confess, vAddi had
not yet knocked at my door.

"I came up to this town with thirty thousand dol-
lars, and not quite a third of it my own. Twenty of
it was for a nuxble quarry we were gcnng to open up
on the Potomac. Thty sent me north to put through
the deal. It was new to me, all right I wasn't used
to a town \^ere they have to chsun ^ door-mats
down and you daren't speak to your ndghbor wi^out
a police-permit And when a prosperous-locking
traveler at my hotel got talkmg about horses and races
and the string tiiat Kcene sent soutii last w&ter, he
struck something that was pretty dcMe to me, fm* that^s

THE DUMMY-CHUCKER

191

what we go in lor down b oon h o r ie-fawiing and
stock-iannuig. Then he told me how Uie aattttant
stqmritttendcnl of th« Weiteni Union, die nan who
managed their racing department, wu an <dd friend
of his. He also allowed this friend of Ids was ready
to phone him some early tr»rk-retnms» for what he
called a big rakeoff. He even took me down to the
Western Unkm Building, on the comer of Dey and
Broadway, and introduced me to a man be called
the assistant si^ierintendent We met him in one
of the halls— he was ni hts shirt-sleeves, and looked
like a pretty busy man. He was to hold back the re-
turns until our bets coukl be hud. He explained that
he himsdf couMn't figure in the thing, but that his
sister-in-hiw nii|^ possibly handle the retoms over
her own private wire."

"That sounds very familiar," I sadly commented.

"He seemed to k>se interest when he found I had
only a few thousand doUars of my own. He said
the killing would be a quarter of a milUon, and tite
risk for hokling i;^ the con^any's despatches would
be too great for bun to bother with small bets. But
he said he'd try out the pkm that aftemooa So my
traveler friend took roe up to a pool-room with racing-
sheets and bladdxMurds and half a dozen td^japh
keys aiul twice as many t^phcmes. It lodced 13ce
the real thii^ to me. When the returns started to
come in and we got our fia^, our private tip from the
Western Umon office, I tried fifty doUars on a three-
tOHme ^ot"

"And of course you won," was my synqatheUc re-

(

222 THE MAN WHO CX)ULDNT SLEEP

joinder, as I Mt Utteniiif to the old, sad tale. "Yoti
always do."

"Then I met the woman I spoke about, the woman
who called herself the sister-in-law of the radng-wire
manager."

"And what was sht like?" I inquired

"She looked a goc<d deal like any of these women
around here," he said 'th an eye-sweep over the
flurry of gull-wing backs and the garden of finery
that surrounded us. "She looked good enough to get
my thirty thousand and put me down and out.**

At which he huj^ his mirthless and mummy-like
laugh.

"You see, I had sense enough to get cold feet, over-
night But when I talked it over with her next day,
and I saw her calling up a few of her Wall Street,
friends, I kmd of forgot my scruples. She got me
thinking crooked again. And that's all That's where
tiie story ends."

His docility, as I sat thhiking of that odkras and
flamboyant type of she-harpy, began to irritate me.

"But why should it end here?" I demanded.

"Because I put twenty thousand dollars of other
people's money into a phony game, and lost it."

"Well, what of it?"

"Do you suppose I could go home with that hang-
ing over me?"

"Supposing you can't Is that ai^ reason why you
should lie down at this stage of the game?"

"But I've lost," he averred. "Everything's goner

" 'An is not lost "' I quoted, feeling very landi Iflce

i'^i

THE DUMMY-CHUCKER

Francis the Firtt after the Battle of Pavia, "'tiU
honor's lelfU gone!'"

"But even thafs gone," waa |iit liitlcti retort He
looked up, ahnost angrily, at mj movement of in^-
tience. "Well, what would yoM do about it r he chair

lenged.

"I'd get that money back or I'd get that gang be-
hind the bars," was the answer I flung out at Wm.
"I'd fight them to a finish."

"But there's notliing to fig^t There's nobody to
get hold of. That Western Union man was only a
capper, a come-on. Thdu: poolroom's oiw of those
dirigible kind that move on when the police appear.
Then they'd daim I was as bad as they were, trying
to trick an honest tj<^okmak<r out of his money. And
besides, there's nothing left to show I t\ ?r handed
them over ai^thing."

"Then I'd keep at it until I found something/* I
declared. "How about the woman?*

"She'd be too clever to get cauf^t And I don't
suppose she'd know me from a piece of cheese."

"Do you suppose you could in any wa:jr get me in
touch with her?" I asked.

"But she*s got police protectkm. I tried to have her
arrested myself . The officer told me to be on my way,
or he'd run me in.**

"Then you know where she lives?** I qtnckly m-
quired.

He hesitated for a moment, as though my question
had caught him unawares. Then he mention^ erne of
the smaller apartment-hotels of upper Broadway.

■ 4 ■

M il ■'■, 't.

aa4 THE MAN WHO CXHJLDNT SLEEP

"And what's her name?^

Again he hesitated before answering.

T il^^' ''*^'* ^ * ****^ ^ «"PP<»«^ Tlw only one
I know IS Brunelle, Vinnie BruneUc Thafs the name
she answered to up there. But look here-you're not
going to try to see her, are you?"

"That I can't tell until to-morrow."

«I don't think ther ., be any to-morrow, for me."
he rejc^ed, as h,s earKcr listless look returned to his
tace He even peered up a little startled, as I rose to

'Tha^s nonsense," was my answer. nVe're goine
to meet here to-morrow night to talk things ovw-.-
;*But why?" he protested. ^

"Because it strikes me you've got a duty to perform

To'ZrTJ'^- A"^ »f I «"«>« of any service
to you It will be a veiy great pleasure to me. And in

H,.^"^ ."r """^'^ "^"^ ^^"^'"^ «»n that of
r^^'^''^ "^ 0»<*o«t on Broadway, acconlingly,
I did not let the grass grow under my feet Two
minutes at the telephone and ten more in a taxicab
brought mc in touch with my old friend Doyle who
was worim^ a mulatto shooring case in lower
S^Av«.ue as qdetfy as a gardener wori^^

Brois:^ ? z^z"^' * "^ "^^ ^-^^

He studied the pavement. Then he shoe* his head.
The name clearly meant nothing to him.

— gn

THE DUMMY-CHUCKER

225

"Give me something more to woric onT

"She's a young woman who lives by her wits. She
keeps up a very good front, and now and then does a
variety of the wire-tapping game."

"I wonder if that wouldn't be the Cassal woman
Andrus used as a come-on for his Mexican mine
game? But she claimed Andrus had fooled ho*."

"And what else?" I inquired.

Doyle stood silent, wrapt in thought for a moment
or two.

"Oh, that's about alL I've heard she's an uncom-
monly clever woman, about the cleverest woman in the
world. But what are you after?"

"I want her record— all f it"

"That sort of woman never has a record. That's
what cleverness is, my boy, maintaming your reputap
tion at the expense of your character."

"You've given birth to an epigram," I complained,
"but you haven't helped me out of my d il e mm a."
Whereupon he asked me for a card.

"I'm going to give you a line to Sherman— Camera-
Eye Sherman we used to call him down at Head-
quarters. He's with the Bankers' Association now, but
he was with our Identificaticm Bureau so kmg he knows-
'em all like his own family."

And on the bottom of my card I saw Doyle writer
"Please tell him what you can of Vinnie Branelle."

"Of course I coukin't see him to-night?"

Doyle locked at his watodi.

"Yes, you can. You'll get him t^ at his apart-
ment on Riverside. And I'll give you odds you'll

ci'ir

^!:l

m6 the man who couldnt sleep

ITat. fa fcct, WM predi^ what I foond the ma.
wrth the c«»e„^ d^. He «t there deaW™

««ad ««, bland ». VenetUa «^ ^t

Myhow looked «fl.e .«d fa hi, ft«e», looked a.
me, and then looked at Hie card agafa.

"T fctr* ^ " '™*''^ *" •"■• '«««>!c query.
I hare never met the lady. Bw.friendofmfae
nas, Pm sorry to say. And Iwantto A. JJli
to help hfai oat" '^ *'«««» do what I can

"How much did be lose?"

"F^ how that dways gets 'emr „»„,•„« that
7«?«- of tong-mimured feces. "WeU, here's what I

^.::t^«^rT^ ".*^' ^"t^'sTitf

Z^l^ ^••culptor called DeHsle took

ment She soon came to the end of her ropTZT
Then she c«ne home-rye an ilea d.e triedX^

and couldn't mdce it go. Th«, she was a pe^t^
L*^- '^^ »** •*'y«' » variation M^^.
i„T «^ "•**»*"" «II«d the Southam case, wo A-
u^ under an English cortidence-man called iZT
Then d« got dagusted with Adam. «rf came t2^

THE DUMMY-CHUCKER

9Vf

America. She had to take what she could get, wA for
a few weeks was a capper for a high-grade wonum'a
bucket-shop. When Headquarters closed up the shop
she went south and was in soavt way involved in tiie
Farra uprising in the cistern end of Cuba."

My apathetic chrcmider paused for a momeat or two,
studying his lacerated dgar-end.

"Then she married a Haytian half-cast Jew in the
Brazilian coffee business who'd bought a Spaoi^ title.
Then she threw the title and die coffee-man over and
came back to Washington, where she worked Hcim ropes
as a lobbyist for a winter or twa Then she took to
going to Europe eveiy VMxaSStk or so. I won'*t say
she was a steamship gambler. I don't thi|^ die was.
But she made friends — and ^ couM pU^ a fupe of
bridge that'd bring your bade hair up <m eui.^ Then
she woriced widi a mining share manipulator named
Andrus. She was wise enough to slip fircna under
before he was sent iq» the river. And sinoe tfien
they tell me, she's been doing a more or less respee^Ue
game or two with Coke Whdan, the wire-ti^)per. And
that, I guess, is about aU."

"Has she ever been arrested that yon know of?
Would they have her {Mcture, for instance, down at
Tf^-'ndquartcrs?"

\.t man who had grown old in tlw rtody of crime
r ied a little.

You can't arrest a woman until you get evidence
against her."

**Yti you're positive she was involved in a number
of crodced enterprises?"

m8 the man who couldnt sleep

"I never called her « cfook," protaud my host
«a « «.pe™»,lit)r flat „.M„^ i„^ Jq^

me she was a crook.** r- ^^s^ »

tJ^^'^P"^***^'^*^ And I ntther imagine

^•d by lus sahric smae, >» don't mean to s^
that a woman like that's immune?" ^

J'^Ik ^ r°^^'* "^y '^* ^« ^°»«««^ ttactly. On
the other hand, I guess she's helped^^^ i„^
«we or two, when it paid her" ^^

aiT'^'''^"'''""°«''"^*^<=^
"By no means. She's just clever, that's alL The

tt^ threw her down, threw her flat Then she did a

mgton that gave her more puU than aH your Tam-
many 'politics' east of Broadway."
JI^ ' ^'^ ;«f «^tand that what you caH politics and
sand dollars and go scot free?"

m^^'^cjt^:; '""r' ^* *yP^ <>f ^'^-"^ never r.ft, a
aWer ?^°Tu'"'!'*°- They just blink and haL3
iTurs^f^r.?^ ^ °^ '"^ ^' -*-. ^^"t

tended **' "^"^"'^ '*^°*^ ^"^'^ trasonable," I con-

fore a^ng his next question.
"Have you seen her yet?"

THE DUMMY-CHUCKER

229

"No, I haven't," I rtgl&td as I roae to ga "But
I intend to."

He moved his heavy shoulder in a quick half-circular
forward thrust It might have meant anything. But
I did not linger to find out I was too tn^ressed with
the need of prompt and pers(»ial action on my port to
care much for the advice of outsiders^

But as each wakeful hour went by I found n^self
possessed of an ever widening curiosity to see thb odd
and interesting wcnnan who, as Doyle exprened it
had retained rq[»itation at the expense of dianicter.

It was extremely early the next morning that I pre-
sented myself at Vinnie Brunelle's apartmeirt-hotel. I
had not only slept badly; I had also dreamed of myself
as a flagdiant monk sent across scordiing samls to
beg a bariMtfic and green-eyed Thais to desist from
tapping tdegraph-wtres kadkig into the can^ of Alex-
ander tiie Great

The absurdity of tint opianic nightmare seemed to
project itself into my actual movements of the morn-
ing. The exacting white light of day withered the
last tendril of romance from my quisratic crusade. It
was oalty by assuring mjrself , not so mudi that I was
espousing tiie cause of the fallen, but that I was about
to meet a type of woman quite new to my txpmtact,
that I was ^le to face lidss Brunelle's nnbetrayingly
sober door.

This door was duly answered by a naid* by a sur-
piisii^y decorous maid in white cap and apron. I
was conscious of her valed yet inqmsitoda! eye r^-
ing on my abashed person for the snalleit fractkm of

u- --

230 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

a second. I almost suspected that in tiut eye migh
be detected a trace of somethinsr strangely W con
tempt But, a Httle to my astonishment, I was admitted
quite without question.

"Miss BruncBe is just back from her morning rid
m the park," this maid explained.

I entered what was plainly a dining-fxxwn, a smaU bu
wen-lighted chamber. Striped awnings still kept th(
tempered autumn sun from the opened windows, when
a double row of scarlet geranium-tops stood noddmg
m the breeze. At one end of the table in the centei
of the room sat a woman, eating her breakfast

She was younger looking, much younger looking,
than I had thought she would be. Had she not sat
there already inundated by the corroding acids of an
earher prejudice, I would even have admitted that she
was an extremely beautiful woman.

She was in a rose-colored dressing-gown which
showed a satin-like smoothness of skin at the throat
and arms. Her eyes, I could see, were something
^ween a hazel and a green, set wide apart under a
Pillas Athena brow, that might have been caUed se-
rene, but for some spirit of rebellion vaguely refracted
from the lower part of the face. The vividness of
her color, which even the flaming sweep of her gown
could not altogether discount, made me think of ma-
tenal buoyancies, of Kving flesh and Uood and a body
freshly bathed. ^

Her gaze was direct disconcertingly direct It even
made roe question whether or not she was rau&ig
my thought as I noted that her hands were forge and

THE DUMMY.OIUCKER

331

whhe, that her mouth, for all its brooding discontent,
was not without humor, and, strangely enough, that
her fingers, ears, and tiiroat were without a touch
of that jewelry which I had thought ][«eculiar to h«r
kind

That she possessed some vague yet menacing gift
of intimacy I could only too plainly fed, not so much
from the undisturbed ease of her pose and the negli-
gently open throat and arms as f rcnn the direct gaitt
of those seardimg and linqnd eyes, which proclaimed
that few of the pop(»ed illusi(nis of life could flower
in their ndgfaborhood. This discomforting sense of
mental clarity, in fact, forced me into the conscious-
ness not so much of bring in the presence of a soft
and luxurious body as of standing face to face witfi
a spirit that in its incongruous way was as austere
as it was akrt

**Vou wish to see me?** die said, over her coffee-
cup. My second glance showed me that she was
eating a bredcfast of iced grape-fruit and chops and
scrambled ^;gs and buttered toast

**Very much," I answered

"About what?** she inquired, breaking a square of
toast

"About ^ mifcxrtnnate position of a young gentle-
man who has just parted company with thirty thousand
dollars r

She bent her head, wiA its looae and heavy coils
of daric hur, and i^anoed at tsf ctfd before she
spoke again.

"And what coukl I poti^ do Yor Um?"

h I

232 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

There wu something neitlwr socking ncM* encouni
ing in her unruffled calmness. But I did not intei
to be disarmed by any theatrical parade of tranquillit

"You might," I suggested, "return the thirty tho
sand.**

There was more languor than active challenge
her glance as she turned and looked at me.

"And I don't think I ev know who you are." si
murmured.

''But I happen to know just who you ar^" was n
prcmipt and none too gentle rejoinder.

She pushed back her hair— it seemed very thi(
and heavy — and laughed a little.

"Who am I?" she asked, licking the toast-cruml
from her white finger-tips.

"I'll tell you who you are," I retorted with son
heat "You're a figure-model that a sculptor mum
Delisle took to Paris. You're the old running-ma
of Adams in the Southam heir case. You're the wi
of a Haytian half-caste Jew with a Spanish tit!
You're the woman who worked with Andrus, the wil(
cat mine-swindler who is now doing time in Sing Sin:
And just at present you're the accomplice of a gar
headed by a certain Ccke Whelan, a wire-ta^iper w<
known to -the police."

Her face showed no anger and no resentment as
unburdened myself of this unsavory pedigree. H<
studious eyes, in fact, became almost contemplati^.

"And supposing that's all true?" she finally •aske(
"What of it?"

She sat and looked at me, as cool as a cucurobe

1-1

THE DUMMY-CHUCKER

233

I couM no longer deny that as a type she interested
me Her untamed audacities were something new to
my experience. She seemed still in the feral state
Her mere presence, as she sat there in the ludd morn-
ing light, exerted over me that same spell which keqts
children rooted before a drcus-animal's cage.

"What of it?" she quietly repeated.

"I'm afraid diet's nothing of it," I admitted, "ex-
cept in the one pcrint where it impinges on my personal
interests. I intend to get that thirty thousand dollars
bade"

The resduticm of my totte seemed only to amuse
her.

"But why come to me?" she asked, turning bade
to her breakfast "Supposing I really was a cog in
some such madiinery as ]rou ^>eak of, how mudi would
be left on one small o^ whm so many wheels had to
be oiled?"

"I have no great interest in your gang and its
methods. AH I know is a tremendous wrong's been
done, and I want to see it righted."

"From what motive?" die asked, with that bar-
baric immediacy of approach peculiar to her.

"From tiie most disinterested of motive»— I mean
from the standpoint of that rather uncommon thing
known as common honesty."

She lodced at me, long and intently, before she spoke
again. I had the feeling of bemg taken vtp and turned
over and inspected through a lense of implacable clarity.

"Do 3rou know this young man who lost his money
on what he took for a fixed race?"

'H *"

'34 THE MAN WHO COULONT SLEEP

•hip w«r^ °* *"* •™»™ «*« •cqtaimM
"And have you known him kme?"

Iv«»oompdfcdtoconf.„toAecomr.nr
And you nndentaod the /J^TTi/ ^
through?" *"* through a

•hougte Ae renaiurf ,i,„t ^ "> «««

- »«. . pi^ ^^L^^^^r'r

resent She swenf A- « . . ^^ "***** keenly t

"ored again^ „^ aIi fl^Tt^l^" ^" '^J

once fcand would trv to to. J.Z^ ^^™' ' *^
wguKi try to toy with my coat-buttoitt.

THE DUMMY-CHUCKER

«3S

'Tm afraid," ahe went on wHfa her grave al»lractioii
of tone, "that you'll find me very matter-of-fact A
woman can't see as much of the world as I have and
then— ohi and then beat it back to the Elsie Books."

I resented the drop to the kmer plane, as though she
had concluded the upper one to be incomprehensible to
me.

"PUdon me^ madam; it's not my whuhnUls Fm tiy-
ing to be true to; it's one of nay promises."

"The promise was a veiy foolish one," she mildly
protested. "Yet for all that," she added, as an after^
thought, *'yoa*re intelligent And I like mtelligence."

Still again her deep and searching eyes rested on my

face. Her next words seemed more a solik)quy than a
speech.

"Yet you are doing this just to be true to your wmd-
mills. You're doing it out of nothing more than blind
and quixotic g e n eros ity ."

The fact that my alhtsion had not been lost on her
pleased me a little more, I think, Aan did her stare
of perplexed commiseration.

"Isn't is odd," she said, **how we go wrong about
things, how we jump at condunons and misjudge peo-
ple ? You think, at this very moment, that Fm the one
who sees crooked, that Fm the one who's lori my per-
spective on things. And now Fm going to do some-
thing I hadn't the remotest intention of doing when
you came into this room."

"And what is that?"

"Fm going to show you how wroi^ you've been,
how wrong you are."

. 'I

t I

:!( "«

2^ THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

"In whirt?" I inquired m ilie agtin 9^ m lilcac
before me.

''In everything/' the finaOy answered, as the roie t
her feet I was at once more conscious of her physia
•ppeal, of her inalienaUe bodily buoyancy, as I sai
her standing there at her full hetfl^ The deep flov

of coter in her loosely draped gown gave her an a!mo«
pontifical statelintss. distinctively I rose as she did
And I could see by htr eyes that the courtesy wai
neither ncg%ible nor dlsiasteful to her. She was abotx
to say something^, then she stopped and looked z^ m
tor a hesitating laome:!* or two.

One would have thouglit, fitwi the soienmity of thai
•tare, that she faced the very Rubicon of her life. Bui
a moment later she laughed aloud, and with a multi-

tu&ious rustling of skirts crossed the room and opened
aniwierdoor.

Through this door, for a moment or two, she com-
pletely left my sight Then she returned, hokiing a
cabinet photograph in her hand.

•Xk) you know itr she quietly asked as she passed
it over tome.

It took but a gkmoe to show me that it wm a pictut«
of the man whose cause I was at that moment espous-
ing, the man I had folkwed from Uie North Rivra-
pier-end the night before. A second glance showed mm
that the lAotograph had been taken » Lomlon; it bore
the stunped inscrqrtion : "Caret ChOds, Regent's Park,

The woman's sustained attitude of viticipation, of

THE DUMMY-CHUCiCER

*I7

expeetatiOB vegMtStA, puzzled me. I saw noddog re-
markable ^out Ae picture or her poMtMion of it

Thii, I y^evt, is tiie raaa yotf'ft trfing to nre
from the dtrtdiet of a win4»pptr named Whd»i,
Ojke Whekn, as yoa call him?*

I adoiowtedged thiR it vm.

"Now look at the signature written across It " she
prompted.

I did as ike auigested loaeribed ibere I read:
"Sincerely and more, ^incam Cory ^*J^^mi*

"Have I now sade the sttiat^ o m fyaUv dy clear
to yo^j?" shea^wd, watch 'up ice a*? ' Io(4ced from
Imt to the pliotc^rai^ aikl tlap m4r ^ f^* afr in.

"I nnist confes , T don't q^ ^« I ? nhted,

thinking^ at *he m* nent ' iw h« a m tiin »^rot^
side-Kghr Irom ^ window ^ cen on a qtui>; acci-
dental tcidi of Q^^ofi

"It's simply Att ^ tan yon are tryii^ to tave
froir. CokeWWin »r?*# mubm kimse^,*'

"Thafs }ix^>oie^ T* was nay exdamation.

"It's not -^iposnUe ?he »dd a little wearily, •1)e-
cause the whde ^hit - lotMi^ more than a plant, a
framentp. And -'-m ^xay i mfl know it It can't
goon. Thewhok it^ was a pim ^ tmp you."

"^^^aniofrapmc?*

"Yes, a a efully vVOfked-oot ^an to galiMr yen in.

mi now, y u see, the machinery H slipping a cog
1«fe it wasn't expected toT

T h 3$cl ^»% rcreddoQS, dazed, tiymg to di j^ ti»
shade.

»33 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

•Tou meta that the man I met ind talked to la
night 18 actuaUy an accomplice of yours?"
''Yet." she answered, "if you care to put ic thj

"But I «n't Wieve It I won't bcKcve it muil yo
onng hmi here and prove it"

She sank into her chair, with a half-Iistless motra
for me to be seated

•Do you know why he's caUed Coke Whehm?" sb
demanded.
I did not

That too. you've got to know. It's because he's
a herom and cocaine fitnd. He's kilhng himself wit!
the use of drugs. He;* making everything impossible
Its eft hmi irresponsible^ as dangerous as any lunatic
would be at hrge." ^

f if *^ """^ ^^«^ **» W jeweled watch.
He wUI be here himself by ten o'ckxrk. Andifhe

heard me aaymg what I am at this moment, he wouM
fall nie as cakniy as he^d sit at acaf< table and He to

"But what's the good of those Kes?^

•Don't yon suppose he knew you were Witter Ktr-

foot ttet among other things you owned a house, and
» car, that you were worth making a try for? Don't
you suppose he found aO that out before he hud his
ropes for this wire-tapping story? Can't you see the
part / was to play, to foOow his Ic«| and show you
how we couM never bring his money hack, but diat
we could face the gang with their own fife. I was
to weaken and Aow you how we couW tap the tapper's

THE DUBfMY-CHUCKER

339

own wire, choose the race that protnised the best odds,
and induce you to plunge against the house on what
seemed a sure thing?"

I sat there doing my best to Fletcherize what seemed
a remarkably big bite of information.

"But why are you telling' me all this?" I still par-
ried, pushing back from Hat flattering consdousness
that we had a secret in c >innxm, that I had proved
worthy an intimaQr denied others.

"Because I've just decided it's the easiest way cmt"

"For whom?"

"For me!"

"What made you decide that?"

"I've done a lot of thinking since you came into this
room. And for a long time I've been doing a lot of
thinking. I don't do things Coke Whdan's way. I
took pity cm him, once. But Fm getting tired of trying
to keep him up when he insists on dropping tower,
lower and lower every day. Don't imagine, because
you've got certain ideas of me and my life, that I
haven't common sense, that I can't see ^at this other
sort of thing leads to. Fve seen too many of them, and
how they all ended. I may have been mixed up with
some strange company in my day, but I want you to
know that I've kept my hands dean!"

She had risen by this time and was moving rest-
lessly about tiie room.

"Do 3^)0 suppose Fd ever be satisfied to be one of
tiiose painted Broadway dolls and let my brain dry up
like a lemon on m pantry dielf? I conl^'t if I wanted
ta I couldn't, aMwagh I can see how easy h makes

240 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

t.|

everything. I tell you, a woman with a r^utadon like
mine has got to pay, and keep on paying. She's got
to pay twice over for the decencies of life. She's got
to pay twice over for protecticm. Unless you're re-
spectable you can't have respectable people about you.
You've got to watch every one in your circle, watch
them always, like a hawk. You've got to watch every
step you take, and every man you meet — and sometimes
you get tired of it all."

She sat down, in the midst of her fd)rile torrent of
words, and lodced at me out of clouded and questioning
eyes. I knew, as I met that troubled gaze, so touched
with weariness and rebellion, that she wa& speaking
the truth. I could see truth written on her face. I
tried to imagine myself m her place, I tried to see
life as she had seen it during those past years, which
no charity could translate into an3rthing i^^roaching
the beautiful Anc much as I might have wished it,
I could utter no emptiest jrfmtse of consolati<Mi. Our
worlds seemed too hopelessly wide apart for any com-
mon view-point.

"What are you going to doP^I asked, humtUated by
the inadequacy of the question even as I uttered it

"I'm going to get away from it Tm going to get
away where I can breathe in peace. Oh., believe me,
I can be irreproachaUe without even an effort I want
to be. I prefer it. I've found how much easier it
makes life. It's not my past I've been afraid of. It's
that one drug-soaked maniac, that poor helpless thing
who knows that if I step away from him he daren't
round a street-comer without being arrested."

THE DtJMMY-CHUCKER

241

She stopped soMteSf and the color dibed out of her
face. Then I saw her slowly rise to her feet and look
undecidedly about the four comers of the room. Then
she turned to me. Her eyes seemed ridiculously terri-
fied.

"He's come!*' she said, in little more than a whisper.

"He's here nowl"

The door opened before I could speak. But even
before the mummy-faced man I had left at the caf6
table the night before couhl stride into the room, the
woman in front of me sank back into her chatf. Over
her face came a change, a veS, a quiddy coerced and
smiling-lipped blankness that remmded me of a pas-
toral stage^lrop shutting out some grim and moving
tragedy.

The change hi the bearing and attitude of the in-
truder was equally prompt as his startled eyes fell
on me cahnly seated within those four walls. He was
not as quick as the woman in catcMi^ his cue.

I could plamly detect the interrogative look be
flashed at her, the lock which demanded as plam aa
words: **What is this num doing here?"

"This," said the woman at the taUe, in her most
dulcet and equable tones, "is the ahruistk gentieman
who objects to your losing thirty thousand dollars in
a race which I had no earthly way of cofttrolfing.''

Here, I saw, was histrionism witfiout a flaw. Her
fellow-actor, I could also see, was taking man thne
to adjust hhns^H to his role. He was less finished hi
his assan^ \ r * accusatory i n dignat i oB. Bid. he did
his best to u < tiie occadon.

£ -1- \

aA2 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

"I've got to get that mon^ back;" he cried, leveUng
a diaking finger at her. "And I'm goii^ to do it with-
out dragging my friends into it!"

She wall-ed over to the windows and dosed them
before she spoke.

"What's Uie use of going over all that?" she con-
tinued, and I had the impression of sitting before a
row of foot-lights and watching an acted drama. "You
took your risk and lost. I didn't get it It's not my
fault You know as well as I do that McGowan and
Noyes will never open up unless you're in a position
to make thent It's a case of dog tat dog, of fighting
fire with fire. And I've just been telling it all to your
friend Mr. Kerfoot, who seems to think he's going to
have some one arrested if we don't suddenly do Uie
right diing."

"I want my money!" cried the man named Whelan.
I could see, even as he delivered his lines, that his mind
was floundering and gro^g wildty about for solid
ground.

"And Mr. Kerfoot*' continued the tranquil-vdiced
woman at the table, "says he has a house in Gramercy
Square where we can go and have a omference. Fve
phoned for a telq;raph operator called Dowi^ to be
tiiere, so we can decide <m a plan for tapping Mc-
Gowan's wire."

"And what good does that do mtT* demanded tht
mumn^-faced youth.

"Why, that gives Mr. Kerfoot his chance to bet as
much as he Hkes, to get as mudi tttdc from MeGo^noi
as he wants to, without any risk of tosing."

THE DUMMY-CHUCKER

343

"But who handles the money?" demanded the wary
Whdan.

"That's quite immaterial You can, if you're his
friend, or he can handle it himself. The important
thing is to get your plan settled and your wire tapped.
And if Mr. Kerfoot win he so good as to telephone to
his butler IH dress and be ready in ten minutes."

She leaned forward and swung an equipoise phone-
bracket round to my elbow.

But I did not fift the receiver from its hodc For
at that moment Ae door abruptly opened. The maid
in the white cap and aprc!n stood trembling on its
threshold.

"That's a lief* she was crying, in her shrill and
sudden abandon, and the twin badges of servitude
made doubly incongruous her attitude of fierce revolt
"It's a lie, Tony! She's welched on you!"
She took three quick steps into the room.
"She'SiOnly playing you against this guy. I've heard
c\ery word of it She never phoned for an operator.
That's a lie. She's throwii^ you down, few good.
She's told him who you are and what your game isr
I looked at the other woman. She was now on ker
feet

"Dor/t let her fx)l you this time, Tony," was the
passionate cry from the quivering breast under the in-
congruous white apron-straps. "Look at how die's
treated you! Look at your picture there, that she
cinched her taSc wiA! She never did half what I did
for you! And now yOtt*re letting her tfurow you fiat!
You're standing there and letting—**

244 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

The woman stopped, and put her hands over h
eara. For she saw, even as I did, the hollow-eye
mummy-faced youth reach a shaking hand back to li
hipi

"You liarf" he said, as his hand swung up with tl
revolver in it "You lying welcher!" he cried, in
thin and throaty voice that was little more than
cadde.

He todc one step toward the woman in the roft
colored dressing-gown. She was, I could see, mu<
the taller of the two. And she was standing, no^
with her back flat against the wall She made n
attempt to escape. She was still staring at him ot
of wide and bewildered eyes when he fired.

I saw the spit of the plaster and the little showc
of mortar that rained on her bare shoukler from tii
bullet4iole in the wall.

Then I did a very ordinaiy and commonplace thinj
I stooped quickly forward to the end of the ^^ an
caught up the nickeled coffee-pot by its ebony handk
The lunatic with the smoking revolver saw my sadde
movement, for as I swung the tnetaA instrument tqi
ward he turned on me and fired for theseeood tioK,

I could fed the sting of the powder smckt am nr
up-thrust wrist. I knew then that it was useless ti
try to reach him. I simply brought my arm forwan
and let the metal pot fly from my hmd. I let k fl]
forward, targeting on his white and distorted faetu

Where or how it struck I couhl not tcfi. Ml
l^ew was that he went down undera scattetkig fiyi*
of bbck coffee. He did not fire agaia He ^ ail

THE DUMMY-CHUCKER

245

even move. Bat as he f dl the woman m the cap and
apron dropped on her knees beside him. She kndt
there with an inartictilate cry like that of an animal
over its falten mate, a ludicrous, mouse-like sound that
was almost a squeak. Then she suddenly edged about
and reached out for the fallen revolver.

I saw her through tiie smoke, but she had the gm
in her hand before I could stop her. She fought over
it like a wildcat The peril of that combat made me
desperate. Her arm was quite thin, and not overly
strong. I first twisted it so the gun-barrel pointed out-
ward. Tht pain, as I continued to twist, must have
been intense. But I knew it was no time for half-
measures. Just how intense that pain was came home
to me a moment later, when the woman fdl forward
on her f ac^ in a dead faint.

The o&Mat womui had calmly timmn open tiie win-
dows. She wa^ied me, almost apathetically, as I got
to my feet and stooped in alarm over tiw unoomcioiw
man m his ridkulous wdto- of Made coffee. Then
she stepped ck»er to me.

'*Have you killed him?^ she aslttd, widi more a
touch of diildlike wonder than ai^ actual fear.

"No; he's only stunned."

"But howr

"It cai^t him here on the fordiead. He'U be
around in a minute or two."

Once more I could hear the multitudiiKNU rustle as
she crc^ttd the rooan.

"Put ten here on n^ bed,^ §im called Iroa an open
door. AiMi as I carried him in aad dropped hhn in

246 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

a lodden heap on the white coverlet, I saw the worn
unsheathe her writhing body of its rose^olorcd wraf
ping. From that flurry of warmth her twisting bod
emerged afanost sqmlchrally white. Then she cam
to a pause, bare-shouldered and thoughtful before m

"Wait!" she said as she crossed the room. "I nmi
telephone McCausland."

"Who's McCausland?" I asked as she stepped m
into the dining-room.

"He's a man I know at Headquarters," was he
impersonal-noted re^y.

For the second time, as she stqtped hurriedly bad
into the room with me, I was omsdous of the satin
like smoothness of her skin, the baby-Hke whiteness o
her rounded bare arms. Then wholly unabashed b
my presence. At flung open a closet door and tossed ;
cascade of perfumed apparel out beside the bed wher
I stood.

"What are you going to do?" I demanded, as I sav
her white-clad figure writhe itself into a street dresi
There was something primordial and Adamitic in th
very cabnness with which she swept throu^ the flims]
reservations of sex. She was as unconsdoos of m]
predicanmit as a cave woman might have been. Anc
the next moment she was crt»hing lingerie and narrow<
toed shoes and Oilet artides and un<fedpheraUe gar-
ments of folded silk into an Engiidi club-bi^. TIke
she turned to glance at her watch on the dresser.

"Fm going!" she said at hat, as she caught t^ i
second hand-bag of alligator skin and crammed mto I
jewel boxes of dark fAvah and cases of diflterent oc^

THE DUMMY-CHUCKER

247

ored Idd, and still more dothing and lingerie Tm
going to catch the Nieuw Amsterdam,*'

"For where?"

"For Europe r

Her qnick and dcxtrom handf had pinned on a hat
and veil at I stood in wonder watditng her.

"CaU a taxi, please," she said, as she struggled into
her coat "And a boy for my bags."

I was still at the receiver when she came into the
room aiul looked down lor a nxnnent at the woman
moaning and whimpering on the coffee-gained floor.
Then she began resohttdy and cafanly drawing on her
plovesL

"'Couldn't we do sometUng for tiicm?" I said as I
stepped back faito die bedroom for her hand-bag.

"What?" she demanded, as she leaned over the bed
where Whehm's reviving body twitched and moved.

"There must be something."

"There^s nothing. Oh, believe me, yon can't he^
him. I can't help him. He's got his ami way to ga
And it's a terribly short wayP'

She firnig open a bureau drawer and crammed a
further article or two down in her still open chatelaine
bag.

Then she opened the outer door for the boy who
had come lor the bags. Then she kxiked at her watdi
agam.

"You must not come back," she said to me; •They

may be here any time;"
"W!» may?" I adced.
"The police," she answered as she dosed tiia door.

a48 THE MAN WHO CX>ULDNT SLEEP

She did not speak again until ire were at tiie ilda <
thetaadcab.

"To the Holland American Wharf," ihe said.

Nor did she speak all the while we purred an
hummed and dodged our way across the dty. SI
did not move until we jolted aboard the ferry-boat, ai
the dangiiy of the landing-float's pawl-and-rachet to
us we were no longer on that shrill and narrow istai
where the fever of life bums to the edge of its thr
laving rivers. It was then and onty tiien that I a
ticed the convulnve shakii^ of her shoulders^

"Wbat is it?" I asked, helplessly, oppressed by tl
worlds that seemed to stand between us.

"It's mtiiing," she said, with her teeth against h
lip. But the next minute she was crying as fM-lom
and openly as a chikL

"What is itr I repeated, as inadequately as befoi
knowing the uselessness of any ^dnUtating touch
synqMitby.

"It's so hard," she said, struggling to control h
v(»ce.

"What is?"

"It's so hard to begin over."

"But they say you're the c l ev e re st woman in t
world!" was tiie only consolatkMi I couM offer her.

I !

CHAPTER DC

A UALtO lAIN-fTOmM

I LIFTED my face to the toddcn pdt of the rain-
shower, feelhig very mudi like a second edition of
King Lear as I did to. Not that I had lost a kingdcmi*
or that I'd ever heen turned out of an ungrateful home
circle! But something quite as disturtung, in its own
small way, had overtaken me.

I had been mubbed fay Mary Lodcwood. Wlule I
stood watdiing that sudden sfabwer empty ttpptr
Broadway as quiddy aa a fusiUade of buUets might
have etiqttied it, I encountered somedifaig rriwh quite
as (»t»nptly emf^ied my own heart It was the cut
direct. For as I crouched hade un^ my dripping
portico, like a toad under a rhubarb-leaf, I cai^jht
stg^t of the oaly too familiar wine-cc^red bndaulet
as it swung about into Longacre Square. I must have
started forward a litd^ without bong quite ccm-
sdotts of the movement And throu*^ tlw sheltering
plate-glass of the dripping hood I caught sight of
Mary Lodcwood hersdf .

She saw me, at the same time ^t I saw her. tn
fact, she turned and stared at me. I ccmkte't have
escaped her, as I stood there mder the ^reet-Umi^
But no shgfatest ngn of reeognitioii came from that
cddly inquiring face. Sie netdier smiled nor bowed
nor kMked back. And ti» wine-aJ<wed hndawlft swept

249

250 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

on, leaving me itaiidiiig there with my todden hat i
xny hand and a great ache of desolation in my heart

She mutt have seen ne, I repeated as I turned di
consolately bade and stood "k^I 'uag men and woim
still ducking tmder doorways &nd dodging into sid
streets and elbowing imo theater-lobbies. It seemi
dtuing the next few mommts as though that ten
tory onee known as the Rialto were a gopher-vilUq
and some hipine hunger had invaded it Before tl
searching nuzzles of those rain-guests all pleasur
sedcers promptly vanislMd. Gaily cloaked and sli;
pered women stampeded away as though they we
made of sugar and they and their gracious curv
might melt into nothing at the first touch of watc
Above the sidewaQc, twenty paces from die empty doo
way where I k>itered, an awning appeared, springii
up like a mushroom item a wet meackm. In towai
one end of this awning circled a chain of limousin
and taxkabs, controlled by an im{»sdve Herculet
dripping oil-skins. And as a carrier-bdt empties gra
into a mill-bm, so this unbroken duun ejected hurr
ing men and wcmien across the wet curb into the ligt
spans^ h(^>per of the thoiter-foyer. And the ichoug
of that theater, with its ccnnpanionalde crush of fa
inanity, began to appeal to my rain-swept spirit

Yet I stood there, uiulecided, wate^f^ the latt
the scatterix^ crowd, washing tiie street that st
seemed an dmgated bull-ring where a matador
two stin dodged the taurine charges of vehicles,
watched die dectric diii|>lay-signs that ran like Ik|t[
ivy about the shop fronts, and then climbed and fli

ii '

A RIALTO RAIN-STORM

J51

tered above the tooU» mifty and aof tened tqr rate. I
watched the ironic beavcnt pour their tmabatinc flood*
down on that coogertcd and overripe core ol a city
that no water oo«kl waih dean.

Then the dewlatioa of the mifly itreeU leaned to
grow unbearaUe. The ipnqr thai Wew m acroM my
dampened knee* made me think of thelter. Isawthe
lights of the theater no more than twenty pacea aw^.
It was already a warren of crowded Ufe. The thought
of even what dihited con^anionAip it might offer me
continued to carry an appeal that became more and
more damorout. .

A moment later I stood before its box-office wmdow.
no wider than a mecteeval kper-sqnint, from which
cramped and hungry soul* buy access to theur modem
temples of wonder.

"Standing room only,** announced the autocrat of
the wicket And I meekly purchased my admisskm-
ticket, remeoAering that »i.e haad it^her of that par-
ticular theater had m the past dor . r^e more th-a one

slight service. . u a

Yet the face of this haugfaii ^ olxi'tuiou* need

usher, as his hand met mine in hoi ireennasoonr

Nvhich is perpetuated by certain ailk-thieaded icrapa <rf

oblong paper, was troubled.

"I haven't a thing left,'* he whispered.

I peered disconao»r ely about thiA ses ^f heada seek-
ing Ufe through the chmisy lattke of poliU mdodrama.

••Unless," added the usher at my elbow. '^youTl take
a seat in that second tower boxr
Even throt«h the baixe door» bAind mc I coaW

■'1}

25a THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

hw the beat ind pttter of the rain. Itwattcmo
9ny port in a storm.

1 !Z^ "^ "^^ "^''^'" I told him and a momn
later he was leading me down a tide airie into the cur
tamed reccM of the box entrance.

Y« it was not ordained that I should occupy thai
box in k»ely and unrivaled splendor. One of iti
chairs, set dose to the brass raU and plush<om«d
pM«prtA^ barred it off from the more protuberant

I2j!«r? ~«'*^ ""^^'P^ by * man in full
evemng drm. He, like myself, periuip^ had never

before shared a box with other than his own acquainl-

what hmited breadth of his back, he turned on me
one sidelong and unmistakably resentful staro.

Yet I looked at this neighbor cf r ine, as I seated
myself, with more interest than I teoi^ » at the play-
actors across the foot-lights, for I nuiier proferredKfe
m ti,e raw to Ufe in the sirups of stage emotionalism.

It startled me a Utile to find that the man, at the
moment, was equally oblivious of anything takiac
place on the st^re. His eyes, in ct. seem^fi^Slo!;

the snowy shoulders of th« woman who sat at the back

of Ae stage box. directly in front of him. As I fol-

owed the direction of his ga« I was further surprised

to discover the object on which it was focused. Ht

wasstarmg. not at the woman herself , but at a pigeon.

Wood i^ set in the da^) of some pendam oTwdB^
lace encircling her throat ^^

"Hiere was, indeed, some excuse for bis staring at it
In the first place it was an extraordinarily hirge and

A RIALTO RAIN-STORM

353

vivid stone; But against Oe bMkgrowid where it ky,
against Jie snow-white colunin of die neck (whitened,
perhaps, fay a prudent application of rice powder) it
stood out in limpid ruddhiess, the most vivid of fire
against the purest of snow. It waa a challenge to
attention. It caught and held the eye. It stood there,
just below where the hair billowed into its crown of
Venetian gold, as semaphoric as a yard-lamp to a night
traveler. And I wondered, as I sat looking at it. what
element beyond curiosity couki coerce the man at my
side into studying it so indolently and yet so intently.

About the man hunsdf there seemed little that was
exceptioud. Beyond a certain quidc and shrewd alert-
ness in his eye-movements as he looktd about at me
from time to time with nmffled t e sen t m e n t which I
found not at all to ray liking, he seemed medium in
everything, is coloring, in stature, in appard. His
face was of die neutral saUownesi of the sedentary
New Yorker. His intelligence seemed that of the
preoccupkd office-worker who couM worm his way
into an ill-fitting dress suit and pkKklly approve of sec-
ond-rate mekidrama. He seemed so without interest,
in fact, tliat I was not averse to directing my glance
once more toward the ptgcon-fak>od ruby whicii glowed
like a live coal against the marble whiteness of die
neck in front of me.

It may have been mere acddcnt, or it may have been
that out of our united gaae arose some vagne psychic
force whidi disturbed this young woman. For u I sat
there starbg at iSttt shimmering jewel, its wearer sud-
denly ttmied her head and glanced bade at me. The

254 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

ntxt moment I was coosdoits of her nod and nn1e^ tn
mistakably in my direction.

Then I aaw who it was. I had been uncon^ stai
fag at the shoulder-blades of Alice Churchai— the
were the Ftak Avenue Churchills— and farther bac
in the box I caught a glimpse of her brother Beany
who had come north, I knew, from the Nicangns
«>ast to recuperate from an attack of fever.

Yet I gave little thought to either of tiiem, I raos
confess. At the same time that I had seen that ao
mentarily flashing smile I had also discovered that Hm
jeweled clasp on the giri's neck was holding in plao
» smf^ strmg of graduated pearls, of veiy tovel)
pearls, the kind about which the frayed-cuff garret-
author and the Sunday "yellows" foiever km to ro-
mance. I was also not uneonsckMis of the quick and
covert glance of the man who sat so close to me.

Then I let my glance wander bade to the ndiy, appar-
ently contem to study its perfect cutting and its un-
matchabic coloring. And I knew that the nan beskk
Rie was abo sharing in that spectacle. I was. ia fiMst,
stiB staring at it, so unconsdous of the movement of
tfie play on the stage that the "dark scene," when
every light in the hotae went out for a secead or two,
came to me witii a ^stinct sense &t shock.

A murmur of approval w«t tinough ^ house as
the returning Ught rtnttetu^ktm a nwnilmili nate-
morphosed stage-setting. I^Ntt «i settbg wu X «d
not know, aor did I k»k 1^ to see. For as ny %
mquisitive gkmce imce more focused kum en ^ col-
unmar white aide that tommwi thovt the j-^ rtitit

A RIALTO RAIK-STCmM

255

a second and greater ihock cfime to nci Had tfiat
neck stood there witiioat « twad I eeidd htm hmm
scarcdy more startled.

The pigeoo-hiood n% was fooe. There waa a»
longer any neddace there. Tht eohmm of anow wm
without ita touch of tniAy fight It waa left aa £•>
turbingly bare as a tafget vidioisl ita huffs-cje It
reminded me of » marhte grate wHhont its eentral
point of fire.

My first definite thought was that I waa the witocaa
of a crime as audacious as it waa bewilderhig. Yet, on
second thouf^t, it was afaufile eiioagh. The prob la m
of proxinnty had afaready hees aoWed. Wi^Hwatlar
darkness had come the o|fortnnity, the opp otU m kf
that obviously had been watched for. WMioi iM i f i
ment of the hand the naddace had been qaia% and
cunningly removed.

My next quick dioogfat waa that te thief sat tiwc ia
my immediate neighborhood. There eonid be no oAer.
There was no nxnn for d o iwt . By some uKji^itfioaa
and dextrous novcnent me man bandi ma mm
reached ftjtymsxA and wnh Ast MOcac|p ot taoQi 4bsM^
iCM bom of mncs eMpafiiB Ba-lMig' MHHapad nw ftwwft^
all the thne shfoodad bgr Ika nttor dulnak The an*
osxtty of hM thing waa mIoqb«b^ yK tna eonplcva*
ness wiii ulith it had sMeacded waa even

I m
wasttotcaaf to
tiny <n vb

flMpaa^B «o e eaflMnesa ^ih[h^hI
diMka niy

^ia^.^:n;T

356 THE BiAN WHO COULDNT SLEEj;

Yet he ieened to fed that he wu etiU under n
eye He eeeraed to chafe tt that continued survey: fa
even ae I studied him I coaW tee • fine wreat <rf en
^•wMMent come out on W« fiwe. He did not tun

and look at me directly, but it was phin that he wi
only too conedout of my pteeence. And even bef or

I quite reahzed what he wat about, he reached quietli

and iKpped out of the box.

That movement on his part swept awi^ my Uwi

•h«d of heritatioo. The sheer ii^dpi^Tfhi,

fl«ht was proof enough of his offense. His obvioui

^VH"" *^ niade me mow than ever detcrmmed
to keep on his trail ^^

.lis** ^^ W« trafl I did, from Ae moment he

^nl^"^ "L"^* ^"^ *«*«• '^ ««to
the m drttthng rahi of Broadway. Stronger and

ever ^ger waves of mdigmition kq»t sweering

. ^ "^ " ^ "^^"^ ^ *»* northward, iith
a furtive glance over his shoukler as he fied.

He was a good two hundred feet ahead of me when
I saw him suddenly tarn and at the risk of a visit to

the h«^tal or the moigue, cross the street fai the mid-
dle of the Mock, dodge desperately between the sttSce

Building. I promptly threw decorum away and ran.

Street entrance to the drug store through whose w

volvmg door. I had seen my man dh«S«r. im
reasonably certain be wouhhi't stopTdrSc an i^
«wm soda and he dkto't, for as I hurried past Oie

A RIALTO RAm-STORM

f ootttiJii I au0A w^ of him tnrniiif imo the stair-
way that louls to the nibwiqr itatkxL I daahcd ahead
but he was tiiroogh the gate before I could catdi up
with him. I had no time for a ticket as the guards
were already damming shut the doors of a soothp

bound "local"
"Buy me a ticket," I called to the astonished "diop-

per" as I tossed m doUar bill over the arm which he
thrust out to stop me. I did not wait to argue it out,
for the car door in front of me was already b eg inn i n g
to dose. I had just time to catapult my body in be>
tween that sliding door and its sted frame. I k.icw,
as I caught my bnaA again, that I was on the pbit-
form of the car befakid the jewd thief.

And I stood tfieM, carefi% scnsthmEmg the line of
car doors as we pulled into the Grand Central Staticm.
I did the same as we passed Thirty-third Street, and
the same again at Twenty-eighth Street The man
had given no sign that he actually knew I was on his
track. He mi^ or might not hi;vc seen me. As to
that I had no means of bekig certab. But I was cer-
tain of the fact that he was making off m a panic of
indeterminate fear, that he was doing his utmost to
evade puiiinfc.

This came docitiy home to ne as ^ tate slopped
at Twenty-thifd Street and I saw Mm slsp fniddy
ottf of the for cod of the car, hiok aboot Mm, aai dart
across tte f t rtJow pbtform and vp me slwiway two

■p ^W'^SWr WS^p^^V^a ••••••■ ^I^wtBWW ^W^W^^*^^ ^wWI^B •^BH^B^^^Wt' ^HW^f ••^^^ ••^PW^^^

I readied the ttiial he was aiikitiig op on ^ step

as8 THE MAN VmO CX5ULDNT SLEEP

of«crc»9.town8tir£Me«ar. To catch that car wm out
of the queatioii, but I waited a moment and twti^
aboard the one that followed it, thirty ywds in tiK
rear. Peerinir ahead, I could phunly see bun as ha
dropped from his car ca the northeast comer of SbdB
Avenue. I could see him as he hurried up the stepp
of the Elevated, crossed the platform, and without so
much as buying a ticket, hurried down the southmi
flight of steps.

I had closed in on him by this time, so that we wcr
within a biscuit toss of each other. Yet never onee
did he look about He was now doubHng on Im
tra^s, walking rapidly eastward akmg Twenty.^rd
Street. I was ctese behind him as he crossed Broad-
way, turning south, and then suddenly tacking about,
entered the hallway of the building that was once the
Hotel BarthoWi and promptly directed his steps toward
the side entrance on Tweaty-third Street

Evwi as he emerged wto the open again he must
haw "en the antediluvian night-hawk cab waitmg
there at the curb. What his directions to the driver
were I had no means of knowing. But as that dripping
and water-proofed individual brought his whip lash
down on his steaming horse a door slammed shut m
my face. Once more I so far forgot my dignity as
^ dodge and mn like a rabbit, this time to the other
rf^ of the cab aa it swung briskly northward. One
tii^ and puil threw the cab door open and I tumbled
in— tumbled in to see my white-faced and frightened
jewd dnef determinedly and frendedly holding dowa
tl» hao^e of the (^|q)<»ite dow.

A RIALTO RAIN-STORM

aS9

His &ce w«t aAn as I came sprawliBg aad hudH
ing against hoB. He woold have leaped bo^ from
the carriage, wfeich was mm wma^tag up an all but
deserted Filth Avemie, had I aot caught and held
him there unth a gnmaess bom of rqieated exaipera-
tion.

He ^M«red no intoition of mealdy stdmutttng to
that detaimag^ jfMpi Seeing tfai^ be was finally cor-
nered, he tumsd on me and fot^ like a rat. His
strength, for one of 1^ weight was surprising. MuA
more surj^isingr lK>we»er, was his f«rocity. And it
was a strange stng^ ^lere is the hatf light of that
musty and m»vf-odeied night-hawk cab. There
seemed soraetha^ ^Alerraaean about it, as thou|^ it
were a battk at the b^tom of a well. And but for
one thing, I inu^ine, it would not, for me, have ben
a pleasant encetmter. Ilf s a marvelous thing, however,
to know that you have B%ht on your ade. The pano-
ply of Justice is as fortifying as any chain armor ever
made.

And I knew, as we fought like two wharf-niB vmder
a pier-end, that I was right I knew that wmf cause
was the cause of law and order. That knowkdfe gave
me both strength and a boldness whkh curied me
through even when I saw my writhing and desp er ate
thief groping and graqnng for his hip pocket, even
when I saw him draw from it a m^razlne>revolver that
looked quite ugly enough to stanqwde a r e gimeui .
And as diat sodden-leathered night-hawk wttA plac^
rollingr up ^^^ Avenue we twisted and panted and
grunted on its floor as though it were a mail-coadi in

ife THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

tkt Smm» of lixtjr yitrt afo, figfati^f lor the potMi.
■ten ot^bmt^Bmmm,

How I got it «wiqr Iron him I atver quite knew.
But whis I cHK to mjr eeBeee I had him on the ad>
floor and mjr knee on hie cheet, with his body beat
up like a letter U. I heW him there while I wwt
threiifh hit pockela, qoietljr, deUbemttdy, one by one,
with all the care of a cuataas inspector going thioi^

Itad no time to k)ok over his waOet (which I f

"Mmbered as behig as big as a brief -bag) or his psqien,
nor had I time to maitt snre how much of the jewelry
he wore might be his own. The one tUng I wanted
was the pearl neckhux witii the pigeon-Uood n%.
And this neckhKW I fonnd, carefnOy wrapped b a siOc
handkerchief tucked down hi his r^t-hand waistcoat
pocket— which, by the way. was provided with a hot-
toned flap to make it deoUy secmc.

I looked over the necklace to nuke sure there could
benomistrfce. Then I agam wrapped it up m the silk

han&erchief and thrust it wen down m niy own waist-
coat pocket.

"Get upr I told the man on the cab floor.

I noticed, as I removed my knee from his chest,
what a sorry condition his shirt-front was in and how
his tie had been twisted »ound under his right ear.
He lay bade against the musty cushions, breatlimg
hard and staring at me out of eyes that were by no
means i»idly. ^

"You couMn't work itr I said, as I pocketed the
revohrer and. having readjusted my own tie, buttoned

A RIALTO RAIN-STORM

361

inyowcott«crow»t«llycrtiiiq>lediliirt-ffOO». Then

for the fint time the Aief ipoke. . . _,,

"lyyoo know what thiiTl CO* year h« orkd, wWte

to the 1^ , _^_^ ,„

"Thit'i not worrying mt," wat my «""* *«**"• *

gotwhrtlctmeafter." . , , .

He sat forward in Wi teat wiA » face that looked

foolishly threatening.
"Don't imagine you can get away with Aat, hede-

dared. I cotdd afford to mile at Wi impotent fnry.

"Jurtwalchmer ItoWWm. Then I added more
aoberiy, with my hand on the door-knob^ "And if yon
interfere with me after I leave Ait caMf yon »
much at try to come within ten yardf of me to4iigfat,
111 give yoa what's coming to you."

I opened the door as I ipokei and dropped easily
from the ftiU moving cab to the pavement I atood
there for a moment, watcWng its pladd driver as he
went on lip the avenue The glaafwindowed door
still swung open, swaying hack and forth Hke a hand.

slowly wavhif me good-hy.
Then I kxjked at my watch, crossed to the University

Cub, jumped fato a waitfaig taad. and dodged back to
the theater, somewhat sore hi body but rather well
satisfied in mind.

A peculiar feefing of w pe ri or i ty possessed me as I
presented my door-check and was once more ushered
bode to my empty box. During the hst hour and a
half that pit full of hmguld-eyed people had been wit-
nessing a tawdry hnitation of adventure. They had
been swallowing a capsule of imiution romance, while

i f

Ute THE IfAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

I» betwtcn the time of ktmag and mtHfrinf tiMt
(•rithly lighted foytr, had revcltd in advetititrc at
fint hand, had taken cbaacet and faced daagen and
righted a great wrong.

I fdt inarticislately pfoad of nyadf aa I watched
tile final curtain come down. Thb pride heeame a
feeling of elatioo as I directed my gkaoe toward Afice
Churchill, who had riaen in the box in front of n^,
•nd was again ihoweriqg on me the warmth of her
friendlyimifo I knew I was atiQ deethwd to be the
fod from the machine. It was aa pfadn that ihe was itill
naconacious of her lose.

I stopped her and her hdk>w-cbedced brother on
thrir way out» sorprisinff them a Uttkv I »>pfiom, hy
the unk)oked-for cordiaUty of my graeting.

''Can't yon two chiklren take a bite with me at
Sherry's?" I amiably suggested. I could see brother
and sister exchange i^anees.

"Benny oughtn't to be out kte,** she demurred.

"But I've something rather hnportant to talk over,**
Ifrileaded.

"And Benny would Uke to get a glimpse of Sherry's
again," interposed the thin-cheeked youth just back
from the wilds. And without more ado I bundled diem
fato a taxi and carried them oflf with me, wondering
just what would be the best way of bringing up the
eubject in hand.

I found it much harder. In fact, than I had expected.
I was, as time went on, more and more averae to be-
traying my position, to descending mildly from my pb-
nade of superiority, to burning my little pin-wheel of

A RIALTO RAIN-STORM

iiS

power. I WM »• * piwy wlA Iti Int IwW fconfc
I knew whrt I amkd lo cmfully wupptd tip « "V
waittcontpodNt I i wMi rib wt d iiowhiiadcoBW^W
and diirtef tli»t qnkt mtpf^ hnm I wm inordiiitMsr
proud of nqftrif.

I Mt kxddfiff tt die girl with her towering crown ci
reddish-gold hiOr. She, in turn, WM i^nff •* ^
own fooaehly dirtorted rellectiott to the pollAed bowl
of the chiltordhh Ifom wWdi I ted jmt aenrad her
with eopom a h «*•#. She tat there guhig it her
reflected ficc. gutog it ft with » iort of itn^ooi yet
impenom! teteataiM. Then I «w her wddenly lew
forwud to her chdr. aliQ lodkiaff at te grateeqne
image of hereetf to the po«Aed rihrer. I conld not
help noticing her tfMAf ttefiqg taKfnmkm, Ae to-
articulate giip of her fUWA Hpa. tte hMid thit went
suddenly np to her ^afoeft. I anw tiw fingers fed
around the bias of the vmfmnif eleoder neii^ and
the momentary look of etopor that oooe more twept
over her laccb

She ate a ttoathM of capon, etufSooily. without
speaking. Then the kwlnd up at ut agato. It was
then that her hradier Beany lor Ae firat tine noticed
her change of color.

''Whatfa vroogr he demanded, Ua ^to young lace
touched aodderiy witfi aaidet y.

The girl, when she finally aaawcred hhn, spcke t«ry
quietly. But I oooid see what a etmggle it waa coet-
ing her.

"Now. Benny. I don't waat any fnaB," die add. al-
moat under her breath. **I don't want eHfaer of you

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264 THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP '

to get exdted, for it can't do a bit of good. But my
necklace is gone."

"Gone?" gasped Benny. "It can't be!"
"It's gone," she repeated, with her vacant eyes on
me as her brother prodded and felt about her skirt,
and then even shook out her crumpled opera cloak.

"Does this happen to be it?" I asked, with all the
nonchalance at my command. And as I spcke I un-
wrapped the string of pearls with the pigeon-bkx)d
ruby and let them roll on the white damask that lay
between us.

She looked at them without moving, her eyes wide
with wonder. I could sec the cotor come back into
her face. It was quite reward enough to witness the
relieving warmth return to those widened eyes, to bask
in that lovely and liquid glance of gratitude.

"How," she asked a little weakly, as she reached
over and todc tiiem tq> in her fingers, "how did you
get themr

"You lost them in the theater-box during the first
act," I told her. Her brother Benny wiped his fore-
head.

"And it's up to a woman to drop forty thousand
dollars and never know it," he cried.

I watched her as she turned them over in her hands.
Then she suddenly looked up at me, then down at the
pearis, then up at me again.

'TAw is not my necklace^" were the astonishing
words that I heard fall from her lips. I knew, of
course, that she was mistaken.

"Oh, yes, it is," I quietly assured her.

A RIALTO RAIN-STORM

365

She shook her head in negation, still staring at me.

"What makes you think so?" she asked.

"I don't think it, I know it," was my response.
"Those aren't the sort of stones that grow on every
bush in this town."

She was once more studying the necklace. And
once more she shook her head. '

"But I am left-handed," she was cxplaimng. as she
stiU looked down at them, "and I had my dasp, hereon

the ruby at the back, made to woric that way. This

dasp is right-handed. Don't yon see, ifs on the wrong

"But you've only got Ae thing upside down," cri«l
her brother. And I must confess that a disagreeable
feeling began to manifest itsdf in the pit of my stom-
ach as he moved doser beside her and tried to rev«^
the neddace so that the dasp would stand a left-handed

one. . . ,

He twisted and turned it fruitlessly for several mo-

ments. ...

"Isn't that Ae limit?" he finally murmured, smkmg
bade in his chair and regarding me with puzzled eyes.
The giri, too, was once more studying my face, m
though my movement represented a form of uncouth
jocularity which she couM not quite comprehend.

"What's the answer, anyway?" asked the mystified

youth.

But his bewilderment was as nothing compared to
mine. I readied over for the string of pearls with the
ruby daspi I took them and turned them over and
over in my hands, weakly, mutely, as though Aey

266 THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

themselves mig^t in some way solve an enigma which
seemed inscrutable. And I had to confess that the
whole thing was too much for me. I was still lodk-
ing down at that lustrous row of pearls, so appealing
to the eye in tlieir absolute and perfect graduation,
when I heard the younger man at my side call n^
name aloud.

"KerfootT' he said, not exactly in alarm and not
precisely in anxiety, yet with a newer note that made
me look up sharply.

As I did so I was conscious of the figure so close
bdiind me, so near my chair that even while I had
already felt his presence there, I had for the moment
taken him for my scrupulously attentive waiter. But
as I turned about and looked up at this figure I saw
that I was mistaken. My glance fell on a wide-shoul-
dered and rather portly man with quiet and very deep^
set gray eyes. What disturbed me even more than
his presence there at my shoulder vjzs the sense of
power, of unparaded superiority, on that impassive yet
undeniably intelligent face.

**I want to see you," he said, with an unemotional
matter-of-factness that m another would have verged
on insolence.

"About what?** I demanded, tiymg to match his im-
passivity with my own.
He nodded toward the necklace in my hand.
"About that," he replied.
"What about that?" I languidly inquired.
The poTtfy man at my shoulder did not aaerwer me.
Imtead he turned uid nodded toward a seojod «»»?, a

In?

A RIALTO RAIN-STORM

2Vf

man Standing ha!f a dozen paces behind him, in a damp
overcoat and a sadly rumpled shirt-front

I felt my heart beat faster of a sudden, for it took
no second glance to tell me that Ais second figure was
the jewel thief whom I had trailed and cornered in the
musty-smelling cab.

I felt the larger man's sudden grip on my shoulder
—and his hand seemed to have the strength of a vise
—as the smaller man, still pale and dishevded, stepped
up to the table. His face was not a pleasant one.

Beraiy Churchill, whose solicitous eyes bent for a
moment on his sister's starUed face, suddenly rose to

his feet

•Look here,*' he said, with a quiet vigor of which I
had not dreamed him capable, "there's not going to
be any scene here." He turned to the man at my shoul-
der. "I don't know who you are, but I want you to
remember there's a lady at this table. Remember that,
please, or I'll be compelled to teach you how to!"

"Sit Ajwn!" I told him. "For heaven's sake, sit
down, rfl of you! There's nothing to be gamed by
heroics. And if we've anything to say, we may as well

say it decently."
The two men exchanged glances as I ordered two

diairs for them.

"Be so good," I continued, motioning them toward
these chairs. "And since we have a problem to dis-
cuss, there's no reason we can't discuss it in a semi-
civilized manner."

"It's not a problem," said the man at my shoulder,
with something disagreeably like a sneer.

a68 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

'Then by aU means don't let's make it one," I pro-
tested.

The man behind me was the first to drop into the
empty seat on my left The other man crossed to
the farther side of the table, still watching me dosdy.
Then he fdt for the chair and slowty sank into it; but
not once did he take his eyes from my face. I was
glad that our circle had become a compact one, for
the five of us were now ranged sufficiently dose about
the table to fence oflf our little white-linen kingdom of
dissension from the rest of the room.

"That man's armed, rememberl" the jewd thief
suddenly cried to the stranger on my left He spoke
both wamingly and indignantly. His flash of anger,
in fact, seemed an uncontrollable one.

"AVhcre's your gun?" said the quiet-eyed man at
my side. His own hand was in his pocket, I noticed,
and there was a certain malignant line of purpose about
his mouth which I did not at all like.

Yet I was able to laugh a little as I put the magaane
revolver down on the table; it had memories which
were amusing.

The quick motion with which he removed that gun,
however, was even more laughable. Yet my returning
s«ise of humor in no way impressed him.

"Where'd you get that gun?** he inquired.

I nodded my head toward the white-faced man op-
posite me.

"I took it away from your friend there," wis my
answer.

"And what else did you take V*

A RIALTO RAIN-STORM

a69

There w»8 something ictwtMwe about the man's
sheer impersooaUty. It lo Ljpt things down to caMt.

"This pearl neddace with the mfaK €*»^" ^ *^
swered.

"Why?" demanded my tnterloctttor.

"Because he stole it," was my prompt refort The
big man was silent £or a mommt

"Frwnwhwn?"

"From the lady you have the honor of fadng." I
answered.

"Where?" was Hs next question.

Itddhim. He was again silent for a second or two.

"D'yott know who this man is?" he said, with a
curt head-nod toward his white-faced odkague.

•*Yes," I answered.

"What is he?"

"He's a jewd Aief ."

The two men stared at each oAer. Then tfie man
at my side rubbed his chin between a meditative thumb
and forefinger. He was plainty puzzled. He began to
take on human attribotes, and he promptly became a
less interesting and a less impress!^ figure. He looked
at Alice Churdiill and at her bromer, and then bade
at me again.

Then, having once more absently caressed his diin,
he swung about and faced tlM wondering and silent
girl who sat opponte him.

''^SxGUse me, nuas, but would yon mfaid answerhig
a question or two?"

It was her brother who spoke before she had time
to answer.

}

"Wait," he interposed "Just who are you, any-
way?^

The man, for answer, Kfted the 1^ of hit coat
and exhibited a sihrer badge.

"Wen, what does that mean?" demanded the quite
unimpressed youth.

"That I'm an officer."

"What kind— a detective?"

"Yes."

"For what? For this place?"

"No, for the Maiden Lane Protective Assodation."

"Weil, what's that got to do with us?"

The large-bodied man looked at him a little fan-
patiently.

"You'H understand that when the time comet," was
his retort "Now, young lady," he began agaui, swing-
faig back to the puzzled girl, "do yoo say you lost a
iiccklace in that theate»4)0K?"

The girt nodded.

"Yes, I must have," she answered, looking a little
frightened.

"And you say it wat stx^en from you?"
"No. I didn't say «iat. I had my necklace on when
I was in the box— both Benny and I know that**
"And it disappeaitd?"
"Yes."
"When?"

"I noticed it was gone when I sat down at tiie table
here."

The dominatuig gentleman turned round to me.

A RIALTO RMN-STORli

«7i

'•You saw Ae neddace from the mtanA booir he
demanded.

"I did; was my answer.

"And yoo saw it disi^ear?" he demmded.

"I saw when it disapfjeared," I retorted.

The jewd thief with the cnffl^led shht-front tried
to break in at this juncture, but the bigger man quickly
sUenced him with an impatient side swing of Ae

hand.

"When was that?" he continued.

"What difference does it maker I cahnfy inqmred.
resenting the pereinptoriness of his interrogations.

H' 8toK>ed short and k)okcd tip at me. Then tlic
firs, inost of a smile, a patient and ahnost sortowfol
smile, came to his ^».

"Well, we'll go at it another way. You witnessed
this man across the teWe take the necklace from the

young lady?"
"It practically amounts to that"
"That is, you actus^' defected him comndt this

crime?"
"I don't think I said I.

"But you assumed he committed this crime?"
'•Rather."

"Just when was it committed?"
"During what they caB m dafk change ia the first

act"

"You mean flie neddace was on hefore that change
and gone when the Kghts were turned up agldiir

"Predsciy.-

}

■ i

9^2 THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

"And the poutkm and actioat of this man wen
tuspidous to yott?''

"Extremdy ao."

**In what wayr

"In different ways."

"He had crowded suspidoasly doie to the wearer
of the necklace?"

"He had."

"And his eyes were ghied on ft during the early
part of that act?"
"They certainly were."
"And yott watched him?"

"With ahnoitas much Interest as he watdied the
necldace:"

"And after the dark changes as yoa call U; the lady's
neck was bare?*

"It was.-

"You're sure of tfiisr
"Positive."

"And what <fid this nnn across the table do?"
"Having got what he was after, he hurried out of
the theater and made his escape-or tried to make his

"It embarrassed him, I st^pose, to have you study-
ing him so closely?"

"He certainly looked embarrassed."

"Of course," admitted my interrogator. Then he
aighed deef^, almost contentedly, after which he sat
with coQtenq>lative and pursed-up lips.

"I guess Fve got Ais whole snarl now," he com-
placently admitted. "AH but one kink."

A RIALTO RAXK-STORM

«Whti ooe Wnkr dwiMidcd Boiiqr CIiiwM.
TheiBMiitiiiyiidedkliiotiiiwrtrWiii. InslM,

!!ero§etoWtf«et -,___

*1 want r» to cane iHlli m^" l>e liid the^ooterjr

to remark, with » curt heid-nod In injr difwtioii,

"I nmeh prefer itayli* IMW," I wlortwL A«X for

the secmMl thnehe nniled his l add cn rd anile.

"Oh, it's noAing objectionable." he explained. "No-
body's gotag to hart yon. And wiW he back here m

ten minutes."

"But, oddly enough, I haye rooted objections to de-
serting nrjT guests."

"Your guests won't be sorry, I hnagine," be replied,
as he kxiked at his silver tnndp of a watch. "And
we're k>shig good thne."

"Please go^" said Afice Ontrdiill, emboldene d, $9-
parentty, by some instincthre conduskm which she
could not, or did not care to^ «E|Wn. And she was
backed up, I noticed, by a nod from her brother.

I also noticed. asIrpsetouiyfeet,AatIstinh«id
theneckbceinmyhand. I was a little pussled as to

just what to do with it

"That," said the sagadous stranger, ''you'd better
leave here. Let the young hAy keep it until we get
back. And you. Feasant," he went on, tnmhig to the
belligerent-lipped jewd thief, **yoa stiqr rigirt here and
make yourself pleasant And without bein* rude, you
might see that the young lady and her brother stay
right here with you."

Then he took me coo^amonaMy by Ae arm and

led me awqr.

!»•

#74 THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

'^Vbafi fhe exact meaning of aU tfaUr I inquiied
aa we tfareadcd our coune out to the cab«taqd and
went dodging westward along Forty-third Street k a
tasd. The rain, I noticed, throu|^ the fogged window,
was itiQ faffing.

"I want you to ihow me exactly where that man set
in that box," was his answer. "And two minutes in
the tiieatcr will do it."

"And what good," I inquired, "is that going to do
mer

"It may do yon a lot of good," he retorted, as he
flung open th^ cab door.

"I fed rather sorry lor you if it doesnV was my
answer as I folk>wed him out We had drawn t^be-
f ore a desolate-looking stage door over which burned
an even more dcsobte-kxAing dectric bulb. The man
tmned and looked at me with a short gho^ of a
grunt, more of dUgust than csmtempt

"You're pretty nifty, aren't you, for a New York
edition of Jesse James?"

And wiUiout waiting for nay answer he b^ian Iddc-
ing on the shabby-kx^ng stage door with his foot
He was still kkking there when the door itself was
opened by a man m a gray unifcmn, obviously the
night watdmian.

"HeUo, Timr' said the one.

"HeUo^ Bndl" said the other.

'IXxmnan gcme?"

" 'Bout an hour ago I"

Then ensoed a moa«jent of silence.

"Burnnde say anythmg was turned in ?"

A WALTO RAIN-STOMff

•71

"DMn't haw of it," wti the wMi«Mrt

«My Ifkwl hm thtato Wi kit loiMthiiig k %
box. Could yoo let m tliiwiiJir

"Sure," WM Ae etty roponte; 'TB throw on ttie
house-lights for yottie. Watch your w^r

He preceded ut through a iwue of pifate d canm
and what looked fflw the backt of gigantic pietore-
framen. He ftepped aride for a moment to turn on a
switch. Then he opened a narrow doci cofered with
sheet-iron, and we found ouredfes fadag the hox en-
trances.

My con^aidon mo^oned me Into the te^cnd taac
while he ftepped briskly faito that nearer the foot-Hghtt.

"Now, the young hdy sat tiiere," he laid, placing the
gilt chair bade agttost Ae brasi ratting. Th«hesat
down in it, fac^ the stage. Havbg done so, he
took off Ws hat and phwed it on the boot floor. "Now
you show me where tiiat man sat"

I placed the chahr against the phish-covered parapet
and dropped into it

"Here," I explained, **within two feet of where you

„

are.

"All right!" was his sudden and qinte unexpected
rejwnder. "Thafs enough! That'fl dof

He reached down sad groped about for Ms hat be-
fore rising from the diair. Ife brwhed it with the
sleeve <rf hia coat absent, and then stuped oul of

the box.

"We'd better be gelthig bade," he called to ne from
the sheet-iTWi Covered *todrw^r.

"Back to what?" I demanded, uf ^ MtsmiUat rnt.

2^6 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

tiuoagh tlM canvas-lined maze again, feeling that he
was in some way tricking me, resenting the footish
mystery which he was flinging about the whole foolish
maneuvCT.

"Back to those guests of yours and some good old-
fashioned common sense," was his retort
,, But during the ride back to Sherry's he had noth-
ing further to say to me. His a^ swers to the que»>
tions I put to him were either evasive or monosyllabic
He even yawned, yawned openly and audibly, as we
drew up at the carriage entrance of that munificently
lighted hostehy. He now seemed nothing more than
a commonplace man tired out at the completion of a
commonplace task. He even seemed a trifle impatient
at my delay as I waited to check my hat and coat—
a formality in which he did not job me.

"Now, I can give you people just two minutes," he
said, as the five of us were once more seated at the
same table and he once more consulted his turnip of
a watch. "And I guess that's more'n we'll need."

He turned to the wan and tired-eyed girl, who, only
too plainly, had not altogether enjoyed her wait

"You've got the necklace?" he asked.

She held up a hand from which the string of grad-
uated pearls dangled. The man then turned to me.

"You took this string of pearls away from this
man?" he asked, with a quick nod toward the jewel
thief.

"I assuredly did," was my answer.
"Knowing he had taken them from this young lady
cariier in the evening?"

A RIALTO RAIN-STORM

^7!

"Your asstnnption bears every nark of gemusr I
assured him.

He turned back to the girl

"Is that your necklace?" he curtly demanded.

The girl looked at me with clouded and troubled
eyes. We all felt, ui some foolish way, that the mo-
ment was a climactic erne.

"No!" she answered, in little more than a whisper.

"You're positive?"

She nodded her head without speaking. The man
turned to me.

"Yet you followed this man, assaulted him, and
forcibly took that necklace away from him?"

"Hold onl" I cried, angered by that cahnly peda-
gogic manner of his. "I want you to un — ^"

He stopped me with a sharp move of the hand.

'Tton't go over all thatl" he said. "Ifs a waste of
time. The point is, that necklace is not your friend's.
But Fm going to tell you what it is. It's a duplicate
of ft, stone for stone. The lady, I think, will agree
with me on that Am I right?"

Tlie girl nodded.

"Then what the devil's this man domg with it?"
demanded Benny Churchill, before any of us could
speak.

"S'pose you wait and find out who this man isf

"Well, who is he?" I inquired, resolved that no
hand, however artful, was going to pull the wool over
my eyes.

"This man," said my unperturbed and big-shoul-
dered friend, **is the pearl-matdier for Cohoi vA

. f

278 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

Greeniitit, the Maiden Lane importers. Wait, don't
interrupt me. Miss Churchill's necklace, I understand,
was one of the finest in this town. His house had an
order to duplicate it He took the first chance, when
the pearls had been matched and strung, to see that
he'd done his job right"

"And you mean to tell me," I cried, "that he hung
over a box-rail and lifted a string of pearls from a
lad/s neck just to—"

"Hold on there, my friend," cut in the big-4mibed
maa "He found this hdy was going to be in that
box wearin' that necklace."

"And having reviewed its diaste beauty, he sneaked
out of his own box and ran like a chased curl"

"Hold your hor^s now! Can't you sm that he
thought yon were the erode? If you had a bimch of
stones like that on you and a stranger butted in and
started trailin' you, wouldn't you do your best to melt
SLVfzy when you had the chance?" demanded the of-
ficer. Then he looked at me again with his wearily
uplifted eyebrows. "Oh, I gMSs you were all right as
far as you went, but, like most amateurs, yea didn't
go quite far enough P'

It was Benny Churchill who spoke up before I oovild
answer. His v(nce, as he spoke, was oddly thin and
childlike.

"But why in heaven's ramt should he want to dtq^
cate my Aster's jewehy?"

'Tor another woman, with more money than brains,
or the know-lK>w, or whatever you want to caU it,"
was the impassive response.

A RIALTO RAIN-STORM

379

I saw the girl across the table from me push the
necklace away from her, and leave it lying there in a
glimmering heap on Ae white table. I pronq»tly and
quietly reached out and took possession of it, for I
still had my own ideas of the situation.

"That's all very weU," I cried, "and very interesting.
But what I want to know is: who got the first neck-

lacer
The big-framed maw looked once more at his watch.

Then he looked a little wearily at me.

"I got 'em!"

"You've got them?" echoed both the g^rl and her
brother. It was plain that the inconsequentiaUties of
the last hour had been a little too much for them.

The man thrust a huge hand down in the pocket of
his damp and somewhat unshapely overcoat

"Yes, I got 'em here," he explained as he drew his
hand away and held the glimmering string up to the
light. "I picked 'em up from the comer of that box
where they slipped off the lady's neck."

He rose pladdty and ponderously to his feet

"And I guess thaf s about all," he added as he
squinted through an uncurtained strip of plate glass
and slowly turned up his coat collar, "except that some
of us outdoor guysH sure get wAfooted if this rain
keeps upr*

CHAPTER X

THE THUMB-TAP CLUE

J WAS being followed. Of that there was no longer
* a shadow of doubt Move by move and turn by
turn, for even longer than I had been openty aware
of it, some one had been quietly diadowing me.

Now, if one thing more than another stirs the blood
of the man who has occasion to walk by nig^t, it is
the discovery that his steps are being dogged. The
thought of being watched, of having a possible enemy
behind one, wakens a thrill that is ancestral.

So, instead of continuing my busily aimless circuit
about that high-spiked iron fence which encloses Gra-
mercy Pirk, I shot off at a tangent, continuing from
its northwest comer in a straight line toward Fourth
Avenue and Broadway.

I had thought myself alone m that midnight abode
of quietness. Only the dread of a second sleepless
night had kept me there, goading me on in my febrile
revolutions until weariness should send me stumbling
oflF my circuit like a six-day rider oflf his wheeL

Once I was in the house-shadows wher« Twenty-first
Street again begins I swung about and waited. I
stood there, in a sort of quiet belligerency, watching
the figure of the man who had been dogging my steps.
I saw him turn southward in the square, as though my
flight were a matter of indiflferenre to him. Yet the
sudden relieving thought that his movements might

380

THE THUMB-TAP CLUE

281

have been as aimless as my own was swallowed up by
a second and more interesting discovery.

It was the discovery that the man whom I had ac-
cepted as following mc was in turn being followed by
yet another man.

I waited until this strange pair liad made a full
circuit of the iron-fenced enclosure. Then I turned
back into the square, walking southward until I came
opposite my own house door. The second man must
have seen me as I did so. Apparently suspicious of
possible espionage, he loitered with assumed careless-
ness at the park's southern comer. The first man,
tlie slighter and younger-looking figure of the two,
kept on his unheeding way, as though he were the
ghost-like compctitw in some endless nightmare of a
Marathon.

My contemplation of him was interrupted by the
advent of a fourth figure, a figure which seemed to
bring something sane and reassuring to a situation
that was momentarily growing more ridiculous. For
the newcomer was McCooey, the patrolman. He
swung around to me without speaking, like a ferry
swinging into its slip. Then he stood looking impas-
sively up at the impassive November stars.

"Yuh're out late," he finally commented, with that
careless ponderosity which is the step-child of unques-
tioned authority.

"McCooey," I said, "there's a night prowler going
around this park of yours. He's doing it for about
the one hundred and tenth time. Aud I wish you'd
find out what in heaven he means by it"

;i!

!
L. I

282 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

"Been disturbin' yuh?" casually asked the law ito.
camate. Yet he put the question as an indulgent phyi>
sidan might to a patient. McCooey was of that type
which it is both a joy and a temptation to mystify.

"He's assaulted my curiosity," I solemnly caa.
plained.

"D' yuh mean he's been interferin' wid yuh?" de-
manded my litvTal friend.

"I mean he's invaded my peace of nMnd."

"Then I'll see what he's afther," was the other's
answer. And a moment later he was swinging negli-
gently out across the pavement at a line which would
converge with the path of the nervously pacing strang-
er. I could see the two round the comer almost to-
gether. I could see McCooey draw nearer and nearer.
I could even see that he had turned and spoken to the
night walker as they went down the square together
past the lights of the Players.

I could see that this night-walker showed neither
resentment nor alarm at being so accosted. And I
could also sec that the meeting of the two was a source
of much mystification to the third man, the man who
still kept a discreet watch from the street comer on
my right.

McCooey swung back to where I stood. He swung
back resoitfully, like a retriever who had been sent on
a blind trail.

"What's he after, anyway?" I irritably inquired.

"He says he's afther sleep!"

"After what ?"I demanded.

McCooey blinked up at a sky suddenly reddened by

THE THUMB-TAP CLUE

283

an East River gas-flare, then he took a deep and dis-
interested breath.

"He says he's afther deep," repeated the patrol-
man. "Unless he gets her, says he, he's goin to walk
into the East River.'*

"What's the matter with the man, anyway?" I asked,
for that confession had brought the pacing stranger
into something very cU ^e and kindred to me.

"'Tis nothin' much," was the big man's answer.
"Like as not he's been over-eatin' and havin* a bad

night or two."

And with that my friend the patrohnan, turning on
his heel, pursued his way through the quiet canyons of
the streets where a thousand happy sleepers knew
nothing of his coming and saw nothing of his going.

I stood there, looking after him as he went Then
I crossed to the northwest comer of that iron-fenced
enclosure raid waited for that youth whom the arm of
wakefulness was swinging about like a stone in a rling.

I deliberately blocked his way as he tried to edge
irritably about me.

"Pardon me," I began. He looked up^ like a som-
nambulist suddenly awakened. "Pardon me, but I
think I ought to warn you that you are being fol^
lowed."

"Amir

"Yes; and I think you ought to know it"

"Oh, I know it," was his apathetic response. 'Tin
even beginning to get used to it"

He stepped hack and leaned against the iron fence.
His face, under the street-lamps, was a very unhappy

384 THE MAN WHO CX)ULDNT SLEEP

looking one. It carried a woebegone impassivity, tlie
impassivity which implied he was so salimerged in mis-
ery that no further blow could be of consequence to
him. And yet, beyond the fixed pallor of that face tbert
was something appealing, some trace of finer things,
some touch which told me that he and the noctumi^
underworld had nothing in common.

"But are you getting used to the other thing?" I
asked.

"What other thing?" was his slow inquiry. I coukl
see the twin fires of some dull fever burning m the
depths of his cavernous ^es.

"Going without sleep," I answered. For the sec-
ond time he stwed at me.

"But I'm going to sleep," he answered. "I've got
tor

"We all have to," I platitudinously remarked. "But
there are times when we all don't."

He laughed a curious little mirthless lat^.

"Are you ever troubled that way?" he asked.

We stood there facing each other, like two kindred
ghosts communing amid the quietness of a catacomb
Then I laughed, but not so bitterl; I hope, as he had
done.

"I've walked this square," I told him, "a thousand
times to your one."

"I've been doing it Itere for the last three hours,"
he qtnetly confessed.

"And it's done you up," I rejoined. "And what
we both need is a quiet smoke and an hour or two
with our feet up on something?"

JTHE THUMB-TAP CLUE

285

"Tliaf • very good of you." he had the gnw* to ad-
mit, as his gaie lolloired miiie toward Ae house door.
"But there are a number of things I've got to Aink

out"
He was a decent sort There was no doubt of that

But it was equa% plain that he was in a bad way
about something or other.
"Let's think it out together!" I had the boldness to

suggest

He laughed mirthlessly, though he was already mov-
ing southward along the square with me as he began
to speak agaia

"There is sometfiing Tve got to think out alone," he
told me. He spoke, this time without resentmoit, and
Iwasgladofit That unhappy-eyed youth had in some
way got a grip, if not on my affection, at least on my
interest And in our hifirmity we had a bond of sym-
pathy. We were like two refugees pursued by the
same bloodhounds and seeking the same traib of
escape. I felt that I was violating no principle of reti-
cence in taldng hun by the arm.

"But why can't you slip in to my digs," I suggested,
"lor a smoke and a drop of Bristol Milk?"

I was actually wheedling and coaxing him, as a stub-
bom child is coaxed.

"Milkr he murmured. *T never drink miBc"

"But, my dear man, Bristol Milk isn't the kind that
comes from cows. It's seventy-year old sherry that^s
been sent on a sea-vcqrage to Australia and back. It's
something that's <m1 to the throat and music to ^
senses 1"

a86 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

He looked at me at though the whole wi<Mi oi a
Hudson River flowed between us.

That sounds appealing/' he adcnowledfed. "Bat
I'm in a mess that even Bristol Milk won't wadi me
out of."

"Well, if it's that bad, it's worth forgetting for an
hour or two I" I announced. He laug^wd »pint re-
laxingty. I took a fimKr and more fraternal grip on
his arm.

And side 1^ side we went up ibt steps and tiirough
the door into the quietness of that sober-fronted house
which I still called by the empty name of home.

In five minutes I had a hickory 1<^ ablaze in 0xt fire-
place, the library-chairs drawn up, and CrisweB, my
captive, with bis hat and coat off. At his side stood a
I^te of biscuits and a ghss of Bristol Milk. But he
seemed to find more consolati(m in sittii^ bade and
peering at the play of the flames. His face was a
very tired one. The skin was clammy and dead-look-
ing; and ytt from the depths of that fatigue flare<^ he
familiar ironic white lights of wakefulness. I tfdnk
I knew about how he f dt

We sat there without speaking, yet not unconsdouS
of a silent communirn of thought I knew, however,
that Bristol Milk was not in the habit of leaving a
man long tongued-tied. So I turned to rdill his ^ass.
' had noticed that his hands were i^aky, just as I had
noticed the telltale twitdi to one of his eydids. But
when his imcontrolled fingers acddently knotted Obt
glBss from tiie edge ol the table, it gave me a lUt of
a start.

THE THUMBrtAP CLUE

ai7

He tut «li«« i«*Nf ■^««diMjr «fcwm »l the tcit-
tered piecet ol oyitaL

"It's helir lie taddenly tent out

"What iif I inqpiiwd.

"Being in Ail tort of ih^*!" WM ^vehe««t
response. I did iiot i«init inyiidl to loAjU to
Sympa% WM i»t the lort ol thing he aeed^ Ser-
enty-yeer-oM ihemr. I felt, wet more to *»»* IW^

"Espedally when we haven't any exoite for it, I
lazily Scented, paswng him a leawl gius* SOmg

it and turning to watdi the fire.
•^a«^«t«ff, that Bri-tol Milk." he «id wi^

catch of 4e hrea& Ihat was too short to be a^»
sigh. Then, ianghing and wiping the sweat faom tea
f ordiead. he went on with an incoherence Aat ap-
preached that of childhood.

"YyegotoMeseutt*'

I waited for a moment or two.

"Whatisitr ^ . _

"That man you saw trailing me around the square.

for one thing." . .,.

"Even that isn't altogether an excuse." I mamtained.

"But H's what he stands for." protested my visitor.
He sat staring faito the Ere for a minute or twa I^
beside him. again conscioas oi some inartictilate and

evasive oompanionshipi

"How ^ it begin?" I finally aaked.

He took a deep bfwA. Then he dosed lus eyes.
And when he spoke he did so witho^ opening tfiw.

"I doa'« Aink.I oould explain," was his hstlesa
answer.

THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

'*ICak« a tiy at it," I ttffid. 'l^if • vioiflilt tft

tlifaif . caaaUst it Left tlirow a liltk liglit and Of^
into it"

H« moved hit haul up and down, liofrfyt aa tlm^'
he had eome vague comprehennoQ of the p^ycbologr
of orafeteioii, tome kncMrledge of the advatrtagw of
"exterioratiiig" tecitt offcniee. Then he lat vcit MiO
and tense.

"But thereof no way of ventiktinjthi^ Then^tao
way of Icnoddng a window in it It'a-if a only a
bhuik wall" ^

"Why a bhmic waUr I hiquind.

He turned and looioed part me, with unaeeiiif lyct.

''Bicmue I cm'irmimbir/' he uid in A vokx^ifuA
made it seem that he was speaidng more to hfansdf
than to me. He looked about him, with a helptessMss
tl»t was pitiful "I can't rcmemberr he r^icated,
witfi the forlomness of a frightened child.

"That's exactly what I wanted to get at," I cried,
with a pretense at confident and careless intimacy. "So
let's clear away in front of the blanlc wall Let's at
least try a Iridc or two at it"
"It's no use," he complained.
"WeU, let's tfy," I persisted, with forced cheeHul-
ness. "Let's get at the beginning of things."

"How far beck do you want me to go?" he finally
asked. He spoke with the weary listkssness of a pa-
tient confronted by an unwelcome piactitioner.
"Let's begin right at the first," I blithely st^get^d
He sat kxTking at his shaking fingers for a moniettt
or two.

THB THUICB-TAP aXJS

*niief^t mJfy nMag nmch to begin at," ht tritd
to cscpfaiiii. **Thm tfiinp don't Mem to begin in a
minute, or an hour, or a dMf/* ^ . ,., ^

"Of oovne not," I aaiented aa I waited for mm to

ffo on*

"The thing I noticed at Hnt time, about tlM on^r
thing I even thou|^ of, v « that my memory liisroed
to have a blind ipot-a blina ^ot the lame aa an cy«

has."

"lUr laaked. "^ Ofverworidngr*

"I guess I'd been pounding away pretty hard. I
know I had. You see, I wanted to malce good inlhat
office So I must have been biting off more than I

could diew."

"What office?" I asked as he came to a stop. He
looked up at me with a sure of da»d perplexity.

"Didn't I ten you thatf he asked, nassaging Wa
frontal bone witii the ends of his unsteady fingers.
"Why, I mean John Lockwood's office."

"John Lockwood?" I repeated, with a sudden tight-
ening of the nerves. ^Do you mean the raihvay-invest-
ment n»an, the man who made so many millions up
along the northwest coast?"

The youth in the chair nodded. And I made an
effort to control niy feelings, for John Lodcwood, I
knew only too well, was the father of Mary Lockwood.
He, like mysdf, had exploited Ae Frozen North, but
had exploited it in a manner veiy different from

mine.
"Go on," I said, after quite a kmg pause.

"Lockwood broo|^ me down from the Canadian

■iiiliail

290 THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

Northen, offices in Winnipeg. He said he'd gire me
a dumce m the East-^e chance of my life." ^
What were you in his office?"

don t think he knew what I was himself."
And he let you overwork yourself?"

sJiV "^'^^^ ^^'' It wasn't his fault You
a good deal of the time. He had an English minine

crxr^s^^- '-^ -- - «^^^

wait t w^t?'""^ " *' ^"^ ^'^ "^^^« ^-^^

Jne^'Brt"^' ' """''.*" ^'^ "^^ «^^ ^^ ^ thing
going. But, you see. it was Ml so new to me I

hadnt got deep enough into the work to organize it
t^ way I wanted to. There were a lot of Httte Z«
that couldn't be organized." ^

"Why not?'

^I!^,^'J^. "^ ^^***"' ^o*- ^stance, had Lock-

^^^had to be sent on to whatever point he sported
"WellP*

tiz2^rtn^t^'?"^*^^^^^«ffi«hedep«-

letters, rcKlirect telegrams, see that everything went

side« fhlf fc . . ^^ °^ importance, and be^

ing after it, of course, was simple enough, but—"

THE THUMB-TAP CLUE

391

But I

"Wait!" I interrupted. "Has this mail anything to
do with our blank wall?"

He looked about at me as though he had sten me
for the first time, as though all that while he had been
merely thinking aloud.

"Why that is the blank wall," he cried.

"Howr I demanded.

"Four weeks ago Lodcwood came back from the
West On the same day a rq^tered letter came to
the office for young Carlton. That letter held twelve
Bank of England notes for a hundred pounds each.
About six thousand dollars altogether."

"Where did it come from?"

"From Montreal, from Carlton's own father. He
wanted the money forwarded to his son. The older
man was on his way back to England. The younger
Carlton was looking up certain lands his father wanted
to invest in. Young Carlton's movements were rather
uncertain, so his father made sure by sending the letter
to our office — ^to Lockwood's office."

"And 3rou were still acting as paste restante for the
Carlton out in British Cdumbia?"

"Yes, we'd been receiving and forwarding his mail."

"And?"

"We also received this registered letter from Mon-
treal. That's where the blank wall comes in."

"How?"

"We've no reccwd of that letter ever gmng out of
our dfice."

He lodced at me as though he esqiected me to be
more electrified than I found it possiUe to be.

ill

391 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

"Lost, stolen, or strayed?" I asked.

"That's what I'd give my eye-teeth to know," he
solemnly asserted.

"But where do you came in?"

His answer was given without the slightest shade
of emotion.
. "I signed for the letter."

"Then you remember that much?"

"No, I don't remember it. But when they began to
investigate through the post-office, I knew my own
signature when I saw it."

"With no chance of mistake, or forgery?"

"It was my own signature."

**And you don't even remember getting the letter?"

"I've gone back over that day with draghooks. I've
thought over it all night at a stretch, but I can't get
one clear idea of what I did."

The force of the sittiation was at last coming home
to me.

"And they're holding you responsible for the dis-
appearance of that letter?"

"Good God, I'm holding myself responsible for it!
It's been hanging over me for nearly a month. And
I can't stand much more of it!"

"Then let's go back to possibilities. Have you ever
checked them over?"

"I've gone over *em like a scrutineer over a voter's
list. I've tested 'em all, one by one; but they all end
up at the blaidc wall."

"Well, before we go back to these possibilities again,
how about Ae personal eqtaticm? Have you any fed-

THE THUMB-TAP CXUE

293

ain.

ing, any emotional bias, any one indination rfwit the
thing, no matter how ridiculous it may seem?"
He closed his eyes, and appeared to be deep in

"I've always felt one thing," he confessed, I ve al-
ways felt— mind you, I only say felt— that when I
signed for that Carlton letter, I carried it into Lock-
wood's own room with his own persond mail, and
either gave it to him or left it on his desk."

"What makes you feel that?"

"In the first place, I must have known he'd seen
Carlton recently, and had a clearer idea of his address
at the time, thf.a I had. In the second place, bemg
registered, it must have impressed me as being com-
paratively important"

"And Lockwood himself?"

"He says I'm mistaken. He holds I never gave him
the letter, or he would have remembered it"

"And circumstances seem to back him up in this?"

"Everything backs him up," was the answer.

"Then let's go back to the possibilities. How about
theft? Are you sure every one m the office was re-
liable?"

"Every one but me!" was his bitter retort

"Then how about its being actually lost inside Aose

four walls?"

"That's scarcely possible. I've gone through every
nook and drawer and file. I've gone over the place
with a fine-tooth comb, time and time again. FveevCT
gone over wy own flat, eveiy pocket and every comer
of every room."

M f

294 THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

"Then you have a home?" I asked.

Again there was the telltale neurasthenic delay be-
fore his answer came.

"I was married the same week the letter was lost,"
was his response.

"And your wife hasn't been able to help you re-
member?"

"She didn't know of it until a week ago. Then she
saw I couldn't sleep, and kept forgetting things, trifling
little things that showed I wasn't coordinating proper-
ly—such as letting a lettt/ go out unsigned or getting
muddled on the safe combination or not remembering
whether I'd eaten or not. She said she thought I was
in for typhoid or something like that She went right
down to Lockwood and practically accused him of
making me overwork. Lockwood had to tell her what
had happened. I suppose it was the way it was thrown
at her, all in a heap! She went home to her own
people that afternoon, without seeing me. 1 thought it
over, and decided there was no use doing anything
until — until the mess was cleared up some way or
other."

I did not speak for several seconds. The case
was not as simple as it had seemed.

"And Lockwood, how does he feel about it?' I
finally asked.

"The way any man'd feeH" The acidulated smile
that wrinkled his face was signtfieam. "He's having
me shadowed r

"But he does nothing r

"He keeps giving me tnore time."

THE THUMB-TAP CLUE

295

"Well, doesn't Aat imply he stUl somehow bcUevt.

"" '^^ doesn't beUeve in me." was Ae dow wspwise.
"Then why doesn't he do something? Whydoesnt

^There was a moment's silence. "Because he prom-
ised his daughter to give me another wwk."

Still again I experienced that odd tightening of the
nerves And I had to take a grip on myself, before I

could continue. „ . ^ . .

"You mean Mary Lockwood personally mterested

herself hi your case?"

"Yes.**

That would be like Mary Lodcwood. I remembcwi
She would always want to be something more than

just; she would want to be «»^«^^^^?: ****"• J
™ the only one gmlty of an off ense which could not

be overlooked! .

"But why Mary Lockwood?" I asked, for somethmg

to say. ^ , «. «^ »•

"She seemed to think I ought to be given a diance.
Criswell spoke with Ustless heaviness, as though Mary
Lockwood's pity, as though any one's pity, were a
thing of repugnance to him. _^ w-

"A matter of thumbs down," I murmured. He
looked at me blankly; the idiom had not reached his
inteUigence. I crossed to the table and poured him

out another glass of Bristol Mittc

''You say you did things to show you ^"^'^
coorditt^g prt^ly " I ^««* «»• "Now, goNr bade
to possttriUties, mii^tn't there hairi beeft a toudi of

■!■

296 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

aphasia? Mightn't you have done sotjething with that
letter and had no memory of what it was?"

"It's not aphasia— it never was that," calmly retorted
the unhappy-eyed yoimg man. 'You couldn't dignify
it with a name like that And it never amounted to
anything serious. I carried on all my office work with-
out a hitch, without one mistake. But, as I told you
before, I was working tmder pressure, and I hadn't
been sleeping well. I did the bigger things without a
mistake, but I often found I was doing them auto-
matically."

"Then let's go back once more to those possibilities.
Could the letter have been misdirected, absent-mind-
edly? Could it have gone to one of Carlton's ad-
dresses?"

"Every address has been canvassed. The thing's
been verified through the local post-office, and through
the Montreal office. That port of it's as clear as day-
light. A letter came to this ofike of Lodcwood's ad-
dressed to Carlton. It held six thousand dollars in
cash. I received it and signed for it The man to
whom it was addressed never received it Neither
the money nor the letter was ever seen again. And
the last record of it ends with me. Is it any wonder
they've got that gum-shoe man trailing me about every
move I make?"

"Wait," I cried, still conjectaring along the field
of possibilities. "Why mightn't that letter have come
in a second envelope whidi you remo^'ed after its
receipt? Why mightn't it have come addressed to
Lockwood or the firm?"

■■i

THE THUMB-TAP CLUE

397

'The post-office records show differently. It cwne to
Carlton. I signed for it as an agent of Carlton s. Oh,
there's no use going over aU that old ground. Ivc
been over H until I thought I was going crazy, lye
raked and dug through it, these past three weeks,,
and nothing's come of it Nothing can come of it, un-
til Lodcwood gets tired of waitmg for me to prove
what I con'* prove!" *^**w

"But, out of all the affair as it happened, out of that
whole day when the letter came, isn't there one shred
or tatter of memory on which you can try to tong
something? Isn't there one thing, no matter how

small or how misty, from which y<?» f"^«?\ . -

"Not one rational thingl I've tned to build a bridge
out into that empty space-that dayj^ways se«ns hke
empty space to me-I've tried to buUd it out hke a
cantilever, but I can't bolt two ideas to^er. I ve
tried to picture it; I've tried to visualize it; I ve tri<^
to imagine it as I must have lived it. Butdllveleft

is the fool idea of a man hitting his thumb. ^
"What do you mean by that r I demanded, sitting up

"^"I ki«» seeing somebody, somebody sitting in front
of me, holding a letter in his right hand and teppmg
the thumb of his left hand with it as he talked.
"But who is it? Or who WM it?"
"I've tried to imagme it was Lodcwood."
"Why, you've something right there!" I exultantly
cried out "Thafs valuable. It's something defoute,
something concrete, something personal Let's begm

on that"

298 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

"It's no use," remarked my con^paidoii. His yoictt
as he spc^e, was one of weary unconcern. "I thouglit
the way you do, at first I felt sure it would lead to
somethirsf. I kept watching Lockwood, trying to catch
him at the tridc.'*

"And?" I prompted.

"I had no chance of making sure. So I went up
to his home, and asked for Miss Lockwood herself.
I tried to explain how much the whole thing meant
to me. I asked her if she's ever noticed her father in
the act of tapping his thumbs."

"And had she?"

"She was very patient She thought it over, and
tried to remember, but she decided that I was mistaken.
His own daughter, she explained, would have noticed
any such mannerism as that. In fact, she ventured to
mention the matter to her father. And when John
Lockwood found I'd been up to his house, that way,
he — ^well, he rather lost his temper about it alL He
accused me of trying to play on his daughter's sym-
pathy, of trying to hide behind a petticoat. Miss Lock-
wood herself came and saw me again, though, and was
fine enough to say that she still believed in me, that she
still had faith in me. She said I could always count
on her hel^. But everydiing she did only seemed to
push me further bade into the dark, the dark that's
worse than hdl to me!"

He leaned far forward in the diair, covering his
face with his tinsteady hands. I had no help to give
fiim.

But as I sat diere staring at him I b^;an to see what

Jkta

THE THUMB-TAP CLUE

399

he had gone throu^ Yet more distnrtteg tf«n the
consciousness of this was the thought o*]**** ^.^
eventuaUy lead to. of what it was already todingt o,
in that broken wredc of a walking g!K)St. in tiiat terror

hounded neurasthenic who had found » J^I* «^
memory and had kept exploring it, feehng abort ft
as one's tongue-tip keeps fathoming the cave of a lort

"I went to a doctor, after she left me," the man te
the chair was saying through hU gaunt fingers as Aelr
tips pressed against his eye sockets. "He told me I
had to sleep. He gave me trional and bromides ama
thJags. but I didn't seem able to assimilate than. Then
hetolc? me it was aU in my own mind, that I only had
to let myself relax He told me to lie with my hands
down at my sides, and sigh, to sigh just once. I by
all night as though I was in a coffin warhng f or Aat
sigh.' fighting for it, praying for it But it didnt

^^f course It didn't," I told him, for I knew Ae
feeling. *1t never does, that way. You ought to
have taken a couple of weeks in the Maine woods, or
tried fishing up in Tcmagami, or gone off pounding a
golf ball fifteen miles a day."

Then I stopped and looked at him, for tome sub-
sidiary part of my brain must have been working even

while I was talking. . ,. «,

«By heaven. I beUeve that girl was mistaken r
•'Mistaken?" he asked. ^^

'•Yes, I don't believe any girl really knows li»

father's little tricks, rd like to wager Aat LodcKrood

l|!

300 THE MAN WHO CX)ULDNT SLEEP

Aor the habit of tappini^ his thoinb nail, lometiflMf, with
what he may be holding in his other handT

My dispirited friend looked up at me, a *ittle dis-
turbed by the vehemence of my outburst

"But what's that to me now? What good does it
do me, even though he does tap his thumb?"

"Can't you see that this is exploration work, like
digging up a lost dty ? Can't you see that we've got
to get down to at least one stone, and follow where
that first sign leads?"

I did my best to infect him with some trace of my
sudden enthusiasm. I wanted to emotionalize him out
of that dead flat monotone of indifference. I jumped
to my feet and brought a dedamative hand down on
Jie comer of my library taUe.

"I tell you it does you a k>t of good. It's your life-
buoy. It's the thing that's got to keep you afloat until
your feet are on solid ground again."

"I tried to fed that way about it once," was his
listless response. "But it doesn't lead to anything. It
only makes me decide I dreamed the whole thing."

I stared down at him as he leaned wearily back m
the heavy chair.

"Look here," I said. "I know you're pretty well
done up. I know you're side and tired of the whole
hopeless Mtuation, that you've given up trying to
thhik about it But I want you to act this thing out for
me to-night I want to try to dramatize that situation
down in Lockwood's office when you signed for the
Carlton *?tter. I want you to do everydiing you can
to visualize that nKMnent I want you to get that

THE THUMB-TAP CLUE

y>t

cantilever bridge etixk out •croet the giAt, acroee the
gulf from each side, trndl you touch the middle and
give m a chance to bolt 'em t 'ler/'

I pushed back the chairs, cleared the space on the
itading-table» swung the youth about so tet he faced
this table, and then took one of my own letters from
the heavy brass stand beside him. My one object
now was to make him "go Bersefk."

"This is your room," I told him. "And this is your
desk. Reme m ber, you're in your office, hard at work.
Be so good, please, as to keep busy."

I crossed tiie room to the door as I spoke, btent on
myinqtersonatkm. But I could hear him as he buighed
his indulgent and mirthless laugh.

"Now, I'm bringing you this mail matter. And
here I have a registered letter addressed to one Carl-
ton. You see it, there? This letter? It's for Carlton,
remember. I want you to take it Ai?^ sign for it,
here Yes, write down your name— actually write
it. Now take the letter. And now think, man, Hmk.
What do you do after that? What is the next thing?
What do you feel is the right thing ? The only thing?"

He looked up at me, wonderingly. Then he looked
about the room. Then he slowly shock his head from
side to skle. I had not succeeded in communicating
to him any jot of my own ment^ energy.

"I cant do it," he said, "I can't remember. It
doem't seem to st^^est a tiling."

"But think, roan, think!" I cried out at him. "Use
your hm^^tkm! Get into the part! Act itt The
thing's there in your head, I tell you. If s dnt up

000 THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

•omewfaMft tlMT^ ooljr yoo havoi't Ut tlM riglil com-
bination to throw the door opca Yoacan'tdoatiiinji
in this lile^ you've never Uved an active moment of this
life, without a record of it hang left there. It may
be bisricd, it may be buried so deep you'll die without
digging it ttpk but if • there, I tell you, if you only go

after it!"

"If I wat onfy lore it waa there," hesitated the
man at the table. "If I only knew just what direction
to got But this doesn't mean anything; it doesn't
gtt me anywhere."

"You'ie not in the part," I cried, with what was al-
most an ecstasy of impatience. "What you've got to
do is liM! over that day. If you can't do that you've
got to live over at least one part of it No; don't think
this is all foolishness. It's only going back to a very
oM kw of association. I'm only trying to do something
to bring up sight, touch, sound. We both know those
are things that act quickest in reviving memory.
Can't you see— out of similar conditions I want to
catch at something that win suggest the similar action!
There's no need telling you that my mind and your
mind each has a permanent disposition to do again
what it has once done under the same drcumstances.
. There's no use ddving imo psydiok}gy. It's aU such
ordinary eveiy-day oonuiKm sense."

He sat looking at me a littk bfamkiy as I pounded
tills out at him. His paffid face, twitdimg in the light
from ^e fire, was ^idious, but only pasnvciy sa The
infection of my rhapsodic effort had not reached hkn.
I ioDcw that, even before he spcwe;

Jtm

THE THUMB-TAP CLUE 303

•1 am fee what you're tlmteg •*.** h« «» fr^
how hard I think, I can't get bcyona

But no matter

And

thcMankwalL I'm tUIl in thU library of youw.

this ii itiU a table and noAing like Lockwood • office

desk." _.^v»

"And that maket it seem rather iilly to your
"Ye», it does ■eem rifly/' he acknowledged.
Then a Hidden idea fdl like a hailrtone out of the

heavens themsdve^ . . ^ «, l^ i.«

•1 know whafi the matter," I cried. Tknowwhy

you're not acting out the part It's becauM yonre
not on the right stage. You know if s an empty re-
hearsal-you haven't been able to let yourself goT

*Tm sorry," he said, with the contrition of a child,
andwiti his repeated hand-gesture of helplessness.

I swung about on hfan, scarcely hearing Ae words he

was uttering. -, ^ r j^ -^

"We've got to get into that office," I ctedared.

"We've got to get into Lockwood's own office."

He shook his head, wiAout kxjking up at me.

•Tve been over that office, every nock and cranny
of itr he reiterated. , . ^

"But what I want to know is, aw we get into it r

"At this time of mght?" he asked, apparently a
little frightened at Ac mere idea of it

"Yes, now," I decUtfed.

"I'd rather not," fee fina% averred.

"But you still carry tfrosfe officse-keys, dont you?" I

aslnd.
"Yes; ! ^B have my keys. But it wonl^t fcxjk

right, the wiiy tilings are. It would be ctoly too easy

t .

304 THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

'for tti^m to misinterpret a midnight visit of mine to
those offices. And they're watching me, every move
I make."

"Then let them know you're going to make the
move," I maintained. "And then we'll slip down in
my car, with no chance of being followed."

He seemed to be turning the matter over in his mind.
Then he looked up, as though a suddoi light had clari-
fied the whole situation.

"You know Mary Lockwood, don't you?" he de-
manded.

"Y-yes," I hesitatingly admitted.

"Then wouldn't it be easier for you to call her up on
the telephone and explain just what you propose do-
ing?"

It was nxy turn to sit in a brown study. It would
be no easy matter, I remembered, to make clear to this
stranger my reasons for not caring to converse with
Mary Lockwood. I also remembered that the situa-
tion ccmfronting me was something which should
transcend mere personal issues. And I was in a quan-
dary, until I thought of the ever-dependable Benson.

"I'll have my man call up Lodcwood's house," I
explained as I rose to n^ feet, "and announce that we're
making an informal visit to those of&ces.'*

"But whaf s that visit for?"

"For the purpose of finding out if Jchn Lodcwood
really taps his Uiumbs or not!"

The gray-faced youtii stared at me.

"But what good will that do?" he demanded.

"Why, it'll give us the right stage-setting, the right

THE THUMB-TAP CLUE

30s

'props*— something to reach out and grope along. It'll
mean the same to j our imagination as a brick wall to
a bit of ivy.*' And I stopped and turned to give ray
instructions to Benson.

"Oh, it's no earthly use!" repeatei! he man who
couldn't remember, in his flat and atnic voice, B.-t in-
stead of answering or argumg with him I put h^ hat
in his hand and held the portiere, \;attiiig for ^lim to

pass through.

I have often thought that if the decorous and some-
what ponderous figure of Mr. John Lockwood had m-
vaded his own offices on that particular night, he would
have been persuaded of the fact that he was confront-
ing two madmen.

For, once we had gained access to those offices and
locked the door behind us, I began over again what I
had so inadequately attempted in ray own library.

During the earlier part of my effort to Bclasroize a
slumbering mental idea into some approximation to
life, I tried to remember my surroundings and the fact
that the hour was the unseemly one of ahnost two
o'clock in the morning. But as I seated Criswell at
his own office desk and did my utmost to galvanize
his tired brain into some semblance of the role I had
laid out for it, I think he rather lost track of time and
place. At the end of ten minutes my face was moist
with sweat, and a wave of utter exhaustion swept
through me as I saw that, after all my struggle, noth-
ing in that minutely enacted little drama had struck
a responsive chord in other hb imagination or his
memory.

3o6 THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

"You don't get anything?" I asked as I dropped back
into a chair at the end of my pantomime. No stage-
manager, trying to project his personaUty into an un-
responding actor, could have struggled more passion-
ately, more persuasively, more solicitously. But it
had been finiitless.

"No, I can't get anything!" said the white-faced
CriswelL And I could see that he had honesUy tried,
that he had strained his very soul, striving to reach up
to the light that was denied him. But the matter was
not one of mere volition. It was beyond his power.
It depended on something external, on something as
much outside his conscious control as though it were
an angel that must come and touch him on the brow.
It was simply that the door of Memory remained locked
and barred. We had not hit upon the right combina-
tion. But I did not give up.

"Now we're going in to try Lockwood's own office,"
I told him, with a peremptoriness which made him draw
away from me.

"I— I don't think I can go through it again," he
faltered. And I could see the lines of mental fatigue
deepen on his ashen face.

Yet I proffered him no sympathy; I allowed him no
escape from those four imprisoning walls. I had al-
ready stirred the poo! too deeply. I knew that a re-
lapse mto the old impassive hopelessness would now
be doubly perilous.

I looked about the room. Three sides of it were
hned with book-shelves and every shelf was fiUed with
hundreds of books, thousands of them altogether from

.iJi

THE THUMB-TAP CXUE

307

dull and uninteresting-looking treatises on railway
building and mining engineering to even more dull-
looking consular reports and text-books on matters of
finance. The fourth side of the room held two win-
dows. Between these windows, some six feet from
the wall, stood Lockwood's rosewood desk. It was a
hands me dedc, heavily carved, yet like the rest of the
furniture, the acme of simplicity. -listory, I knew,
had been made over tiiat oblong of rosewood. It had
been and would again be an arena of Napoleonic con-
tention. Yet it stood before me as bare and bald as
a prize fighter's platform.

I sat down in the carved swivel chair beside this
desk, drew my chair closer to the rosewood, and looked
up at Criswell, who, I believe, would have turned and
bolted, had he been given the chance. He was, I fancy,
even beginning to have sus^Mcions as to my sanity.
But in that I saw no objection. It was, I felt, rather
an advantage. It would serve to key his nerves up
to a still higher pitch— for I still hoped against hope
that I might lash him into some form of mental calen-
ture which would drive him into taking the high jump,
which would in some way make him dear the Wind

wall.

"Now, I'm Lockwood, remember," I cried, fixing
my eye on him, "and you're Criswell, my private sec-
retary. Have you got that plain?"

He did not answer me. He was, apparently, looking
weakly about for a place to sit down.

"Have you got that plain ?" I repeated, this time b a
voice that was almost thunderous.

308 THE MAN WHO COULDNT. SLEEP

"Yes," he finally said. "I understand."

"Then go back into jour room there. From tliat
room I want you to bring me a letter. Not any old
letter, but one particular letter. I want you to bring
me the Carlton registered letter which you signed for.
I want you to see it, and feel it, and bring it here."

I threw all the authority of my being into that com-
mand. I had to justify both my course and niy intelli-
gence. I had to get my man over the high jump, or
crawl away humiliated and defeated.

I stared at the man, for he was not moving. I tried
to cow him into obedience by the very anger of my
look. But it didn't seem to succeed.

"Don't you understand," I cried. "I want you to
bring that registered letter in to me, here, nowl"

He looked at me a litUe blankly. Then he passed
his hand over his moist forehead.

"But we tried that before," he falteringly com-
plained. "We tried that, and it wouldn't work. I
brought the letter in the first time, and you weren't

here."

I sat up as though I had been shot I could fed a
tingle of something go up and down my backbone.
My God, I thought, the man's actually stumbling on
something. The darkness was delivering itself of

an idea.
"Yes, we tried that before," I wheedled. "And

what happened?"

"You weren't here," he repeated, in tones of sudi
languid detachment that one might have thought of
him as under Ae influence of a hypnotist.

THE THUMB-TAP CXUE

309

"But Tm here now, so bring vat the letter!"

I tried to speak quietly, bat I noticed that my voice
shook with suppressed excitement Whether or not
the contagion of my hysteria went out to him I can
not say. But he suddenly walked out of the room, with
the utmost solemnity.

The moment I was alone I did a thing that was both
ridiculous and audacious. Jerking open Lockwood's
private drawer, I caught up a perf ecto from a cigar-
box I found there. This perfecto I impertinently and
promptly lighted, puffing its aroma about, for it had
suddenly come home to me how powerful an aid to
memory certain odors may be, how, for instance, the
mere smell of a Noah's Ark will carry a man forty
years bade to a childhood Christmas.

I sat there busily and abstractedly smokmg as Cris-
well came imo the room and quietly stepped up to my
desk. In his hand he carried a letter. He was solemn
enough about it, only his eyes, I noticed, were as empty
as though he were giving an exhibition of sleei>-walk-
ing. He reminded me of a hungry actor trying to look
hzppy over a papier-mSchi turkey.

"Here's a letter for Carlton, sir," he said to me.
"Had I better send it on, or will you look after it?"

I pretended to be jM-eoccupied. Lockwood, I felt,
would have been that way, if the scene had indeed
ever occurred. Lodcwood's own mind must have been
busy, othenvise he would have carried away soait
definite memory of what had happened.

I looked up, quickly and irrita^y. I took tiie let-
ter from CrisweU's hand, glanced at it, and began

310 THE MAN WHO COULDNT 3LEEP

absently tapping my kf t thumb-tip with it « I peered

at the secretarial figure before me. _..,.^,

Criswell's face went Wank as he saw the «iove«e«t

It was now not even somnambuUstic m ^^^^J^
maddened me to think he was going to fail me at such

don't you go on?" ^ , . •

He was silent, lookmg ahead of ^

«I-/ see bluer he finally said, as though to hunself .
His face was clammy with sweat

"What sort of blue?" I prompted. "Blue ctoth?
Blue sky? Blue ink? Blwwhatr .^^..

"iri bluer he repeated. '^^^^^^'^.'^'"^^
And aU his soul seemed writhing and twistmg m some

terrible travail of mental childbirth.

«I see blue. And you're making it white. Youre
covering it up. You're turning oyer white-whiter
white! Oh, what in God's name 18 itr

My spine was agam tingUng with a Aousand eke.

trifleeSes as I watched him. He turned to me with

a gesture of piteous appeal ,. i.. «^

^What was it?" he implored. "Can't you help me

«retit-«et it before it goesl What was it?"

*^« t^Mue. blue and white." I told him. and «
I said it I realized what madhouse jargon It would have

^iJ^t^SJ^r^ and let his head fall for^d

onhishands. He did not speak for sev^l^jis.
"And there are two hills covered with snoir. ac

slowly intoned.

THE THUMB-TAP CLUE

My heart MB* a littie as I heard Win. ^ 'f**^^
had overtaxed hU strength. He was wanderaj J^I
again into irrelcvandcs. He had missed the high

^"^t's an right, old man," I tried to console Mm.
"There's no use overdoing this. You sit there for a

while and catei down." .^ .,u juj.

As I sank into a diair on the other side of the desk.

defeated, staring wearily about that book-lined room
that was housing so indeterminaU; a tragedy, the door
on my left was thrown open. Through it stepp^ a
woman m an ivory-tinted dmner gown over which
was thrown a doth-of-gold cloak.

I sat there blinking up at her, for it was Mary Lodc-
woodhersdf. It was not so much her sudden appear-
ance as die words she spoke to the huddled figure on
the other side of the desk that startled me.

«You were right," she said, with a self-obUterataig
intensity of purpose. "Father taps hU thumbs. I saw

him do it an hour ago!"
I sat staring at her as die stood in the center of the

room, a tower of ivory and gold against the dufl wid
mottled cotors of Ae book-Uned wan. I waited for

her to speak. Then out of the mottled colors that
confnmted my eye. out of the faded ydlows and rusty
browns, the dun greens and brig^iter reds, and tibc giH
of countless titles, my gaze rested on a near-by oWoog

I toofced at k without quite sedng it Thenitcanie
capiickmsly home to me «iat Mue had been tiie cotor
that CriawcH had mentboed.

3IJ THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

1 ' ' ■»

But after all blue is only blue» I vacuously tdd n^
wdt as I got up and croued the room. Hien I saw
the white streak at the top of the book, and for no
adequate reason my heart suddenly leaped up into n^
threat

I snatdwd at that thing of blue and white, like a
man overboard snatching at a life-line I jericed it
from its resting-place and crossed to the desk-^
with it

On its blue title page I read : "Report of the Com-
missioner of the North West Mounted Police, 1898."

The volume, I could see at a glance, was a Canadian
Government Blue Book. It was a volume which I my»
self had exploited, in my own time, and for my own
ends. But those ends, I remembered as I took up the
book and ^ock it, belonged now to a world thstt seemed
very foolish and very far-away. Then, having shaken
the volume as a terrier shakes a rat, I turned it over
and looked through it This I did with a sbwly nnk«
ing heart

It held nothing of significance. Yet I took it up
and shook it and ri£9ed through its leaves <mce more,
to make sure. Then between what I saw to be tlw
eighteenth and nineteenth pages of that section whidi
bore the title "The Report of In^)ector Moodie," I
came upon a phot(^;raphic insert, a tint-block photo-
engraving. It carried the inscription: "The Summit
of Laurier Pass Loddng Westward." What made
me suddenly stop breathing was the fact that diis
photograph showed two hills covered with snow.

"Criswell!" I called out so sharply that it onttt

iiai

THE THUMB-TAP CLUE

3*3

have sounded liTce a Kreani to the bewildered woman
in the doth-of-gold doak.
"Yes/* he answered m his far-away voice.
'*AVa8 John Lodcwood ever interested in Northern
British Columbia? Did he happen to have any claims
or interests .r plans that would make him kx* up
trails in a Police Patrol report?"
"I don't know," was the wearily indifferent answer.
"Think, man!" I called out at Wm. **Tfmkf*
"I can't think," he complained.
**WouWn't he have to look up roads to a new mining-
camp in that district?" I persUted.

"Yes, I think he did," was the slow response. Then
the speaker looked up at me. His stupor was ahnost
that of intoxication. His wandering eye V^^^^
steadily down at the Blue Book as I once more nfM
through its pages, from back to front I MW his
wavering glance grow steady, his whole face diange.
I put the book down on the dedc-top, with the picttire
of Laurier I'ass uppermost under the flat white light.
I saw the man's eyes gradually dilate, and hb body
rise, as though some unseen hydraulic machineiy were
slowly and evenly elevating it
"Why. there's the Uue! There's the whiter he

gasped.

"Go onl" I cried. "Go onr

"And those are the two hills covered with snow!
That's it! I see itl I see it now! That's the book John
Lockwood was going through «*«* / lumdtd Wm

"What letter?" I insisted.

314 THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

■4

^:.i

i
1

"Carlton't letter/' he proclaimed.

"Then where U it ?" I asked, sick at heart I looked
from Crifwell to the girl in the gold ck>ak as she
crossed the room to die bodk-shelf and looped over
the ^»ce from yihith I had so feverishly snatched die
Bhie Book. I saw her brush the dust from her finger-
tips, stoop lower, and again reach in between the
shelves. Then I k)oked back at Criswell, for I coukl
hear his voice rise almost to a scream.

"/ remetnbert I set it now! And Ms got to re-
membtrl He's got to remember!"

1 shook my head, hopelessly, as he flung himsdf
down in the chair, sobbhig out that fodish cry, over
and over agaia

"Yes, he's got to remember,'' I could hear Mary
Lockwood say as she turned and faced us.

"But what will make him?" I asked, as her studious-
ly impersonal gaze met mine.

'This will," she announceu as she hdd out her
hand. I saw then, for the first time, that in this hand
she was hokling a heavily inscribed and R-stamped
envelope.

"What's that?'' demanded Criswell, starii^ hard.

"It's your lost letter," answered Mary Lodcwood.
"How it fell out, I don't know. But we do know, new,
that father shut this letter up b that book. And the
Lodcwoods, I'm afraid," she ccmtimied with an Odd
little <juaver in her voke, "will hav« a vary, very
great deal to adc your forgiveness for. I'm sorry, Mr.
Criswell, territdy sc^ry this ever hs^tpennt But I'm

THE THUMB-TAP CXUE

31$

glad. terriWy glad, that it hat tamed otit the way it

haa.'*
There was a moment of quite unbroken silence. Then

CrisweU turned to me. „ . . « u ««.««

"It's vol* I've got to thank for an this," he finiJly

Mustered out. with moist yet happy eyes, as he did

hU best to wring my Und off. "It's you w^ve.-

who've reinstated mel" . _f j^ .«

We were standing there in a sort of triangle, very

awkward and iU-at-eaae, until I found Ae courage to

break the silence. «^«.f,*-

"But I don't seem to have been able to reinstate
myself. CrisweU." I said as I turned and met Mary
lidcwood's level gaze. She kwked at me out of those
intrepid and unequivocating eyes of hers, for a fmi
half mhmte. Then ihe turned slowly aj^J- She
didn't speak. But there was somethmg that toowa
rtrangdy like unhappiness in her face as she groped
towwi the door, which CrisweB. I noticed, opened
'for Mf^

(

I
f

H J

; I

h i

CHAPTER XI

THB NZLB-GIBEN K0A08TBS

MV HOPE you sIq>C wdl, sir/' said Benson, is I sat

^ down to my tHvakfast of ked Casaba and eggs
O'Brien, a long month later.

'like a top^ thank you," I was able tc announce to
that anxious-eyed old retainer of mine.

"That sounds like old times, sir," ventured Benson,
caressing his own knudcle-joints very much as thot^
he were shaking hands with himself.

"It feels like old times," I briskly acknowledged.
"And this morning, Benson, I'd like you tc dear
out my study and get that clutter of Shang and Mii^
bronzes off my writing-desk."

"Very good, sir."

"And order up a ream or two of that Wistaria Bond
I used to use. For I fed like work again, Benson,
and that's a feeling which I don't think we ought to
neglect"

"Quite so, sir," acquiesced Benson, with an a{>prov-
ing wag of the head which he made small effort to
conceal.

It was the truth that I had spoken to Benson. The
drought seemed to have ended. The old psychasthenic
inertia had slipped away. Life, for some unaccountable
reason or other, still again seemed wonderful to m^
touched with some undefined promise of high adven-

316

THE NILE-GREEN ROADSTER 317

t„«. erowmd once mo« wW, U» fdfhW. wta^
of ;«««.. G«»««J' Sq»«.. from «V ft«^
dowi. loolttd like iOfiietWiig Art »^»«^^^
!S2ta^dr.w«. A n,ilk-i«e«.. J«t beyond *e
X.^ n« «.dd«.Iy *ink of Ptoethcj, »jd h»

tack to my dedc to thrice out the wnp of a«tt~u

fwUtedto write once more. » *"".~r*' ^"
L l»t tho« impo»iMe Al«k», domgod. of *.
..rlier day, bnt rto»t teri men »d ''««^J^
Ae p«>ple I had met »d known »d •»"'«"'»»

„,Sundingof. Li<«'J'*8»J»'«fj:^"r^;
"pert pme, a game wen worth watching. dooMy

weU worth trying to interprrt. ,_,^,_^j,It

So when I settled down that day 1 wrote feverirtuy

,«1 1 wrote Joyooriy. ' «™» »"" ""L^STt
camped and my he«lw«.onpty. I~"!»*«^*?!
SSlJtogorrhea that left me cont«.tedIy hmp and lax
and in need of an hoar or two of oP"" »'•

So I saffied forth, hummmg aa I went " «»»»
sparkling afternoon of e«-U«* .pring, and aa I I»«d
Z qui«* rtreet. I turned jfcaaantly over m that half-
^d bain of mine certain ideas as to the «toe of
^tic «.rprise, together with a c«f«lly ^
^sdf ^aToo as to the author-, over-uae of the
lone arm of Coincidence.

^i„cid«.c.., I told myself, were *.pg« -«*
ooooed up altogether too often on the P™*^^I*««-
^^ZZti Xg^her too seldom in actual h^ I
^ ^marf. wigr of r««hing hi. end. that tndc of

3i8 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

riding the bumpers of Invention, of swinging and daoh
gling from the over-wrenched arm-socket of Coinci-
dence. It was good enough for the glib and dehisive
«>Eg«y of the moving-pictures» but —

And thai I stopped short I stopped short, ccm-
fronted by (me of those calamitous street-accidents
only too common in any of our twentieth-century
cities where speed and greed have com « weigh Mfe
so lightly.

I scarcely know which I noticed first, the spick-and-
span doverleaf roadster sparkling in its coat of Nile-
green enamel, or the girl who seemed to step directly
in its path as it went humming ak»g the smooth ai^
polished asj^alt But by one of those mirMukxisly
rapid calculations of which the human mind is quite
often capable I realized that this same 8oftly4raai»
ming car was predestined to come more or less vio-
lently into contact with that frail and seemingly hesi-
tating fi^^ure.

My first impulse was to turn away, to avoid a
spectiide whkh instinct told me would be horrible.
For stin again I f eh the beak of cowardice spearmg
my vitals. I had the odynephoUac's dread of bkxxL
It unmanned me; it sickened my souL And I wodd
at least have covered ay hct with ny hands, to Uot
out the scene, had I not suddenly remembered that
other and strangely shnilar occasion when a car came
into violent collision with a human body. And it bad
been my car. On that occasion, I only too w^ knew,
I had proved taqiardcxiably vadUatii^; and cravto." I
had niQ away from Uie h(MTor I should have ftoed

MiWMiaiMililiiii

mim

THE NILE-GREEN ROADSTER 319
likeaman. And I bad paid for my cowardice F^d
i^ it at the incredibly extortionate pncc of my
adf-resoect and my peace of mind. ,

^Xtime Hoiked myself to face the mu«c
I steeled myself to stand by, ev«i as *« niovmg a^
struck the hesitating body and threw it to the pav<y
^t My heart jumped uj. inta my throat, hke a
^-valve. and I shouted aloud, in mortal terror, for
?tdd^ wLe the skirted body trailed in under Ac

running-gear of the Nile-green roadster, draggmg
Zr^f^vement as the two white hands du.g
frantically to the green-i«inted sprmg-leaves^ Bu^ I

didn't run away. I"^**^ ^^ "*°~°« ^T'^^jf Vf
did exactly the opposite. I swung out to the side of

the fallen girl, who stiffened in my arms asl , deed her
up. Then I spread my overcoat out along the c^b,
aid placed tiie inert body on top of it. for m my to

unr^soningpanicIassumedtiuitA^^^

I could see saUvia streaked with Mood dr<K)hng fr«n

herpartedHps. Itwashomm ^^^J^}^^
su«tibat she was stin aHve. tiiat she was still bmti^

ing. when I became consdous of the fact Aat a second
^ who had run atong beside the air Aaking to.
fist np at its driver, was standing dose beside me. He
was^ eWerfy man, a venerable-looking man. a maa
with silveiy hair and a medc and threadl«e asp^t-
He was wringing his hands and moaning in his iria-
eiy as he fta«d dawn at the girl strttdied out on nqr

^They've WBed herr he cried atoud. "O Gad,
tiiey'ye kilkd herr .

h *

320 THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

"Do you know this gixlV* I d«nanded as I did my
best to loosen the throat of her ^rt-waist

"Yes—yes I She's my BabWe. She's my niece.
"She's aU I have," was his reply. *'But they've killed
her." ^

"Acting that way won't help things!" I told him, al-
most angrily. Then I looked up, still angrily, to see
what had become of the Nile-green car. It had drawn
in close beside the curb, not thirty feet away. I could
see a woman stepping down from the driving-seat All
I noticed, at first, was that her face seemed very white,
a;id that as she turned and moved toward us her left
hand was pressed tight against her breast It strudc
me, even in that moment of tension, as an indescrib-
ably dramatic gesture.

Then the long arm of the goddess known as Coin-
cidence swung up and smote me full in the face, as
solidly as a blacksmith's hammer smites an anvil.
For the woman I saw walking white-faced yet de-
termined toward where I knelt at the curb-side wai
Mary Lockwood herself.

I stood up and faced her in the cruel clarity of the
slanting afternoon sunlight For <»ly a moment, I
noticed, her stridcen eyes rested on the figure of the
woman lying along the curb-edge. Then they rose"
to my face. In those eyes, as she stared at me, I
could read the question, the awful question, which her
lips left unuttered. Yet it was not fear; it was not
cowardice, that I saw written on that tragically color-
less brow. -It was more a dumb protest against in-
justice without bounds, a passionate and unarticulated

THE NILE-GREEN ROADSTER ja'
p,««B„g for »n» ddi«™.g s«rt«ce which she kne*

could not be P^^' . j ;„ 3„„er to that un-

?"• *'ir ^he\^ not e«n be seriously
spoken question. »nc hu*/

hurt. But—" ,. stj^aiced with

"She s kiiiea, nc / excitedly retorted.

"She's no '-•^^•JL'tMr I demanded,
"But yoo saw »*»» *J *?.~ ;,. They ran

clutching at my ^:^^ Zd her; ftey«
her down, hke a dog. Theyve xiuu

^.r ".^^ rtTreviving'^H on the
"^I^fup" I curtly commanded the old man as he

STL % i»'t «>* - r* """o, ^'

J r^el^^fwasTremutous, but U« id-d h«.d

SIThungatV Me '~.™"?^'^^ me. "To
"Couldn't : J hw home? she a*ea me.

my home?** .

I was busy puslung bade the crowd.

«n" I SwIT-a hospital's b«t "^Pf^
yourcirthere. Then you run her over to the Roose-

' w

322 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

velt. That's even better than waitmg for an am-
btilance/'

I stooped over the injur^ girl again and felt her
pulse. It struck me as an amazingly strong and
steady pulse for any one in such a predicament And
her respiration, I noticed, was very close to normal I
examined each side of her face, and inspected her
lips and even her tongue-tip, to see if some cut or
abrasion there couldn't account for that disturlnng
streak of blood. But I could find neither cut nor
bruise, and by this time the old man was again mak-
ing himself heard.

"You'll take her to no pest-house/' he was ex-
citedly proclaiming. "She'll come home with me—
what's left of her. She must come h(»ne with me I"

Mary Lockwood stared at him with her tragic and
still slightly bewildered eyes.

"Very well," she quietly announced. "I'll take her
home. I'll take you both h(»ne."

And at this the old man seemed immensely re-
lieved.

"Where is it you want to go?" I rather impatiently
demanded of him. For I'd decided to get them away
from there, for Mary's sake, before the inevitable pa-
trolman or reporter happened along.

"On the other ade of Brooklyn," explained the
bereft one, with a vague hand-wave toward the east.
I had to push back the crowd again, before I was able
to gather the limp form up from its asf^ialted resting-
I^ace.

"And what's your name?" I demanded as the old

ni, : 1

jggM

THE NILE-GREEN ROADSTER 333
«an came shuffling along beside us on our way to the

waiting car. i-^«**„ »»

"Crotty/' he announced. "Zachary Crotty.
It waii't untU I'd placed the injured girl m the
softly-upholstered car-seat that that name of Crotty,
sent Uke a torpedo across the open spaces of distrac-
tion. exploded against the huU-plates of ^^^^
Crotty ! The very name of Crotty took my though^

suddenly wingmg bade to yet another streef^^f^^
Tn accident in which I myself had figured so activdy

and so unfortunately. F^^^ C^^r*-?' "T.«ff^r
man, I remembered, who had confirmed my chauffeur

LatrdUe's verdict as to the victhn of that never-to^
forgotten Hallowe'en affair. Crotty was the mdi^
vid^ who had brought word to LatreUle that we had-
really killed a man. And Crotty was not a remarkably
common name. And now. oddly enough, he was figur-
ing in another accident of aknost the same nature.

Something prompted me to r«jch "^^V""'^
hand of the still comatose girl. That hand I noticed,
was warm to the touch. Then I turned and mspected
the veneraWe-looking old man who was now weeping
volubly mto a large cotton handkerchief.

"You'U have to give us your street and number.
I told Wm, as a mask to cover that continued wspcc-

tion of mine. _ ., , _ - .,_,

He did so. between sob*. A«d as he did so I tol.^

to detect any trace of actual tears on his face What
was more. I felt sure that the eye periodically con-
cealed by the noi«ly-fiouri Aed han&erchief wm a
dironically roving eye, an unstable eye. an eye Aat

324 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

aeemed averse to meeting your own honestly inquirinf
glance.

That discovery, or perhaps I ought to say that sus-
I»cion, caused me to turn to Mary, who was already in
her {dace in the driving-seat

''Wouldn't it be bettei if I went with you^ I asked
her, stung to the heart by the mute suffering which
I could only too plainly see on her milk-white face.

"No," she told me as she motioned for the girl's
uncle to dimb into the car. 'This is something I've
got to do myself."

"^d it's something that'U have to be paid for,
and well paid for," declaimed our silvery-haired old
friend as he stowed away his cotton handkerchief and
took up his slightly triumphant positicm in that Nile-
green roadster.

It was not so mudi this statement, I think, as the
crushed and hopeless look in Mary Lockwood's eyes
that prompted me to lean in across the car-door and
meet the gaze of those ^es as they stared so un-
seeingly down at me.

"I wish you'd let me go with you," I begged, put-
ting my pride in my pocket.

"What good would that do?" she demanded, with a
touch of bitterness in her voice. Her foot, I could see,
-was already pressing down on the starter-knob.

"I might be aUe to help you," I ndhr inadequately
ventured. Even as I spoke, howev^^ caught sight
of the blue-clad figure of a patrolman pushing his
way through the crowd along the curb. I imagme
that Mary also caught sight of that figure, for a shadow

THE NILE^REEN ROADSTER 3^5
p,«d ac«>~ her face «Kl Uic I-tae o» «»»"*« i"-
"T'J:^^ -id in .J»« of ^^„ga,p.

S^ *e reU«d hand posed so .mp.ss.v^

*^^ the tios of the first and second fingers, rnat
X^I ^' '» """^^^ brought 'bo«.
CTe use rf ciga«ttes. ^ was a n»rk p»d«rto
the taWtual smoker. Yet Ae ««* «rf dnd><ol«»d
^STl had Ufted into that c.r.«»t cc«ld «ar«ly
JHocwted as a consuiwr of "crftoHMfls^ It Wt
^^wMchthei.onofRea«»fo«»dh«dtoeradi-

**'l, left me «i«5nti"g •ft.' ^ '''^f^l^^w 'Z
fact " ith s.m«thing more than perptaaty mhb^ at

Z^^e, „.avi^^r^v« -bout *e t««i«y^
SrlintheNik^eencar. And a «.dden .die to foW

L after that girt, to stand ^"^^I^^^^T^^'^
«tiTities whid. she could never comprdiend, took po..

session of we. ..

Any sud. pursuit, however, was not M asy as it
™™^fseA Fori first had to expiate to that mquinng
C^^ iTthe acddent h«l h.«. a trivial one, t.^
fZ^ bothered about tddng the Hco«e-number

326 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

•*|!»

of the car. and that I couM be found at my home in
Gramercy Square in case any further information
might be deemed necessary. Then, once clear of the
neighborhood, I hesitated between two possible
courses. One was to get in touch with Mary's father
over the phone, with John Lockwood. The other was
to hurry down to Pohce Headquarters and talk things
oyer with my .-ood friend Lieutenant Belton But
either movement, I remembered, would have stood dis-
tasteful to Mary herself. It meant publicity, and pub-
licity was one thing to be avoided. So I solved the
problem by taking an altogether different tack. I
did what deep down in my heart I had been wanting to
do all along. I hailed a passing taxicab, hopped in,
and made straight for that hinterland district of
Brooklyn where Crotty had described his home as
standing.

I didn't drive directly to that home, but dismissed
my driver at a near-by comer and approached the
house on foot. There was no longer any Nile-green
car in sight And the house itself, I noticed, was a
distinctly unattractive-looking one, a shabby one, even
a sordid one. I stood m the shadow of the side-
entrance to one of those gilt-lettered comer-sak>ons
which loom like aromatic oases out of man's most
dismal Saharas, studying that altogether repeltent
house-front. And as I stood there making careful note
of its minutest characteristics a figure came briskly
down its brdcen sandstone steps.

What made me catch my breath, however, was the
fact that the figure was that of a man, and the man

.L^U^

THE NILE-GREEN ROADSTHl 3*7

was LatreHk. my ex-dumffeuf . And nm H^}^
rcmeoibered, the long arm of Coincidciice waa wadi-
ing out and ptaddng me by the iteeve.

But I didn't Knger there to mediUte owr this ah-
rtrmctkm. for I noticed that Latreme. sauntering along

the opposite side of the street, had signaled to two
other men leisurdy approaching my caravansary from
the near-by comer. One of these, I saw, was AeoW
man known as Crotty. And it was dbnous thrt wi Ahi
two minutes' time they would converge somewhere dis-

agreei Jly dose to the spot where I stood.

So . bactod discreetly and quietiy through the SKk^
entrai.-* of that many-odored beer-parlor. There I
encountered an Hil)ernian bartender with an eirq)ty tray

and an exceptionally eva eye. I detained hun, howerer.

with a fraternal hand on his deere. ^

"Sister," I hurriedly explained. 'Tve got a date
wttharibhere. Can you put me under cover?-

It was patois, I fdt sure, which ^, f^/«
tmderstanding. But it wasn't mitil he bcheW A«five-
spot which I'd sUd up on his tray that Ae look of
world-weary cynicism vanished from his face.

"Sure." he said as he promptly and unpassively
twckcted the WIL Then without a word or tiie Wmk
STm eye he pushed in past a room crowded with
round tabla on iron pedestals, took the key out of a
door opening in the rear wall, thrust It mto my fingers,

and offhandedfy motioned me inside.
I stepped in thitwgh that door and closed and lock^

It Then I inspected my quarters. They "f^^J^
quent enou^ of sordid and ugly adventure. They

if: k
'i ;

3a8 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SUftEP

mOt of sour liquor and stale dgu-vackt, with a
▼ague over-tone of orris and patchou^ On one side
of the room was an imitation Turkish couch, on the
other an untidy washstand and a charred-edged card-
table. Half-way between these there was a **speak-
easy," a small sliding wall-panel through which liquid
refreshments might be served without any undue inter-
ruption to the privacy of those partaking of the same.
This speak-easy, I noticed as I slid it back the merest
trifle, opened on the **beer parlor," at the immediate
rear of the bar-room itself, the "parlor" where the
thirsty guest might sit at one of the little round taUes
and consume his "suds" or his fusel-oil whisky at his
leisure. And the whole place impressed me as the
sort of thing that still made civilization a mockery and
suburban recreation a viper that crawled on its bdly.
I was, in fact, still peering through my little speak-
easy slit in the wall when I became conscious of the
three figures that came sidling into that empty room
with the little round tables. I could see them distmct-
ly. There was the silvery-haired old Crotty ; there was
Latreille; and there was a rather unkempt and furtive-
eytd individual who very promptly and unmistakably
impressed me as a drug-addict And repugnant as
eavesdropping was to me, I couldn'i help leaning ck>se
to my speak-easy crevice and listening to that worthy
trio as they seated themselves within six feet of where
I stood, Latreille and old Crotty with their backs to
me, the untidy individual whom they addressed as
The Doc sitting facing the wall that shielded me.
"Swell kipping!" contentedly murmured one of

THE NILB^REEN ROADSTER jap

that trio, out of thdr momentary tiknce. And at
that I promptly pricked up my ears, for I knew that
fwell kipping in the vernacular of the underworld
stood for eaiy harvesting.

"What'll it be, boy«?" interrupted a voice which I
recognized as the bartender's.

"Bourbon," barked Latreille.

"A slug o' square-face, Mickey," companionably
announced the oW gentleman known as Crotty.

"Deep beer," sighed he who was designated as The
Doc. Then came the sound of a match being struck,
the scrape of a chair-leg, and the clump of a fist on
the table-top, followed by a quietly contented laugh.

"It's a pipe!" announced a solemn^ exultant voice.
And I knew the speaker to be my distinguished ex-
chauffeur. "It's sure one grand little dnch!"

"Nothing's a dnch until you get the goods in your
jeans," contended Crotty. with the not unnatural sk^

ticism of 8^

"But didn't she hand her hundred and ten over
to The Doc, just to cover running-expenses? Ain't
that worth rcmcmberin'? And ain't she got the fear
o' Gawd thrown into her? And ain't she comin' back
to-night wit' that wine-jelly and old Port and her own
chedc-book?" . .

This allocuticMi was followed by an 8^)prcaatnre

silence. ^^

"But it's old Lodcwood who's got o' come across,

that individual known as The Doc finally reminded

his confreres.

This brought a snort of contempt from Latreille.

330 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

"I ten you again old LodcwoodTl fight you to die
drop of the hit The girl't your neat She't your
mark. You've got herl And if you've only got the
braint to milk her right she's pxxi for forty thou-
•aad. She's weakened already. She'i on the akidt.
And she's got a pile of her own to pull fromr

"Forty thousaadr echoed the other, with a saadc
ofthehpSL

"That's thirteen tfiotwand a-pfcce," amended La-
treille largdy, "with one over f.>r Car-Step Sadie."

**Cttt out that aanM^" comn-aiidfld Crotty.

"Wen, Babbie then, il thfet suits you better. And
^8 a landsUde for herP'

"Ain't she earned itr demanded her sitvety-faaind
ddgtardiaa

"Strikes me aa being pretty good pay for gettk'
bunted over with a play-car and not even a shm-
brune."

**WeU, ain't her traintn' worth sometUur. m this
wodcr — ^» mm

-Sure k is-bot how 'n hdl did she pt g« bbod
streakin' across her face so nice and life-like? *

The silvery-hak-ed okl gentleman dmckled as he
put down his giass of square-lace.

That's sure our Babbie's one little ^»d-«tand
play! Ypu see, die ke^ the pulp eq»osed in oi» o'
herbKkteeth. Then a lUtle suck with her tei^ue over
It makas it Ueed, on a half-num^ aotiee. fk^w
bow she worked the hemorrhi«e.«M» willi oil
Brow-hial BIB aS last winter, beloi«
bim up the river.**

THE NILE-GREEN ROADSTER 331

I itood there, ietninf igatnst ^ ioBtd iMi acroM
iiHtkh must Iwve pasted so im^ ^.f the ^qmd ttMt
eheert 4q>retMd htimanit)'. But never before, I led
mxrt, Sd raj^ha^ quite so chirring <»ine ^ro«i|^
^t aofdtd Utile ipeak^aiy. I was no loager afrmid
of tiM^ «idifiii»t4ooktiq; trio so oonl^ittedfy exult-
ing cyver their ill-gotten victory.

•'WeD, it's a dndi," went on the Jroniog voke^ '*i^
The Doc'a only cut out the dope for a couple o* days
and your Babbie doesn't get to buckir' o .^ the foot-
board f

"It ain't BaUtie I'm >rrylp ;ver, ' atplained old
Crotty. "That girl'll tio what's tx^ ^ erf her.
She's got ta I've wised her u\ on lat't

worryin' me mew* is that dff-shoote- \ ^ m

over there on Ae Islanu."

Stffl again I c »uld lear Latreii lit sncat of
(^[ten contempt.

"Well, ycm can pi* a«t oui trt of your head,"

quetly averrt ' my ex-eiamiieii 'You seem to 've

That's d« boob we un-
ca ^n. And that's the
Hallow-e'en Nig^

forgotten that guy, Zadiy.

k>aded the Seiator' town

Hindoo I fraaaerl, away * at

You re-ncmber that, don't u ^"

I !« ed closer, with rv rt pounding under my
drift an ' : '^'^^png in my ears. But <Ad Crotty didn't

•*On ; iiow n ght?" bt ruminated alood.

^'Whi he stii ^ a^ed yon to ^and r^udy to give
^ gM worn to, if ht h npened roimd for any hiAieaa-
^»pi» scmg and dance! . pted the somewhat im-

V-

332 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

patient voice of Latreille. "Don't you mind, bade on
last Hallow-e'en, how the Big Hill boys stuffed that
suit of old clothes with straw and rags, and then
stuck it up in the street ? And how we hit that dummy,
and how I made the chicken-hearted pen-wiper think
that he'd killed a man and coyoted off the scene?"

I dai't know what old Crotty's reply to those quej^-
tions were. I wasn't interested in his reply. It wasn't
even rage that swept through me as I stood listening
to those only too enraging words.

The first thing that I felt was a sense of relief, a
vague yet vast consciousness of deliverance, like a
sleepy lifer with a governor's pardon being waved
in his face. I was no longer afraid for Mary. I
was no longer afraid of life, afraid of m3rself, afraid
of my fellows. My slate was clean. And above all,
I was in no way any longer afraid of Latreille. /
was the chicken-hearted pen-wiper — and I hated him
for that wcM-d — who had been "framed." / was the
over-timorous victim of their sweet-scented conspi-
racies. I was the boob who had been made to tkviBt
and suffer and sweat But that time yma over and
done with, forever. And the great wave of relief
that swept through me surged bade again, this time
crested witih anger, and then still agun towered and
broke in a misty rush of pity for Mary Lodewood.
I thought of her as something soft and featliered fai
tiie triple coils of those three reptilious conii^iirat(»s,
as something dean and timid and fragile, being slowly
slathered over by the fangs whidi were to fasten them-
selves upcm her iniK>cence, which were to feed tqioa

THE NILE-GREEN ROADSTER 333

her goodness of heart. And I decided that *** would
never have to go through what I had been oonpelled

to go throuf^

I didn't wait for more. There was, in fact, noth-
ing more to wait for, so far as I and my world were
concerned. I had found out all I wanted to find out
Yet I had to stand there for a fuH minute, coercing
mysdf to cahraiess. Then I tiptoed across the room
to a second door which stood in ♦he rear waM, un-
locked it, and stepped out into tht narrow and none
too well-lighted haUway. This led to a wariiroom
which m turn opened on another narrow passageway.
And from this I was aMc to circle bade into the bar-
room itsdf .

I didn't tarry to make any explanations to the
worthy called Mickey, or to advertise my exit to his
even worthier friends. I slipped quietly and quickly
out of that unclean street-co^ -ler fester-spot, veered
off across the street where the eariy spnng twilight
was already settling down, and w;^ straight to the
house which I knew to be Crott/s.

I didn't even wait to ring. I tried the door, found
it tmlodced, and stepped mside. There, no sign of
life confrcnted me. But that didn't for a moment
kleler my exfdoratiooa. I quietly investigated the
Ground floor, found it as unprepossessing as its pro-
prietor, and proceeded noiselessly t^ the narrow itaip-
way for an examination of the ni^w r^^bm.

It wasn't until I reached the head of the stairs tint
I came to a stop. For there I coukl hear l3at mnfBed
but unmistakable sound of somdwdy moving about

334 THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

It Uxk me several cmnutes to detennine tfw source
of tiiese movements. But once I had made sure of n^
ground I advanced to the door at the bade of the lutlf-
darkened hall and swung it open.

On the far »de of the room into which I stood star-
ii^ I saw a giii in house-slippers and a faded rcMe-
colored peignoir thrown over a nont too clean night-
dress of soiled linen. In one hand she held a lighted
cigarette. With the other hand she was stirring some*
tiling in a small graniteware stew-pan over a gas-
heater. Her hair was down and her shoulders were
bare. But all her attentkm seemed concentrated on
that savory stew, which she sniffed at himgrily, almost
childishly, between puffs on her cigarette. Then Ai
fell to stirring her pot again, with obvious satisfaction.

I had the door shut bdiind me, in fturt, before die
so much as surmised that any one else was in the room
with her. And when she looked up and saw me tiwre
her ores sbwly widened an f she slowly and deKber-
ately put her spoon down on the soiled dresser-top
beside her. It wasn't ecactly fear that I saw creep
intoherface. It was more the craft of the k»g4iarried
and case-hardened fugitive.

'*Bab,'' I said, addressii^ her m tiM lat^iaiffe yAoA
I imagined would most f Mdbly appeal to her, 1
don't want to butt m on your sk>^^ But tene't
preciout and I'm going to tdk plain."

"^lootf die saM after a moment of hesitation fol-
lowed fagr aaodier nomoit of ritent appraisal.

*Tht cops are rotm^ng t^ The Doe and ok! Crotty
lor di^iii IddMr. Thnf'fe also c of»j«w hot. &iti, to

THE NILE-GREEN ROADSTER 335

eather up a girl caHed Car-Step Sadie for dmm-
S4 undS the car of that IxKkwood woman and
bleeding her for one hundred and ten bones, and—

disturbingly diduMUe fiture m «»M »»«. "TJ
stood rt^ at me *«. . tort of mome-bk. hostUitjr

in her crafty young eyes. . .

-tot th^« bttagi"* » poBce^-rpod dong w^4
W I ^t gBMy on, "for they dWm. BA yo««
gT. hollow tooth you »n .tart Mf«l»K»V rj
!oM n-d to st«ll on that inttrmd-uijiiiy stuff. And
C^ Jpa coupl. of ««. that .«n't going to
theyveaagup»^j» District Attorney's

jound any too good over m the u«n« '

' aTstood once mor« rikntly studying me.
^;jl^aM ttt» to yuh, anyway ?•* Ae «^

"^.olittle.«y dear." I airily ackr^wladg^^
you can do exactly as you like about rt. ^t"-.
^X«'. The Doer was her next quick quertion.

••Where's Crotty?"

T had to thirft fast ^^

t^ve dudced.'' I a««rt«d. «ma«d at my own

newlyniiscovered facility in fictioneering.
"Who said tiiey'd dadcedr ^«^?"

-Ite you know Mkfcey's, <«rer *«^ <» ^« ^^'^^'^

^^Tm r h. d«t«l ^ro.^ the room «Hl

336 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

threw aside the faded peignoir. The movement made
my thoughts flash back to another and earlier scene,
to the scene wherein one Vinnie Brunelle had played
the leading role.

"Latrdlle/' I explained to the girl across the room,
"droj^jed in at Mickey's and tipped Crotty and The
Doc off, not more than a quarter of an hour ago."

"And they rabbited off wit'out throwin' me a sign?"
she indignantly demanded.

"They did," I prevaricated.

She suddenly stopped, swing^g about and viewing
me with open suspicion.

"Where'd yuh ever know that Latretlle guy?" she
demanded.

"LatreiUe worked with me, for months," I declared,
speaking with more truth, in fact, than I had intended.

"Then me for the tall timber!" announced that hard-
faced little adventuress as she began to scramble into
her clothes.

"Don't you want me to get you a taxi?" I inquired,
baddn^ discreetly away until I stood in the open door.

"Taxi nuttin'l" she retorted through the diower of
soiled lingerie that cascaded about her writhing white
shoulders. "What d'yuh take me for, anyway? A
ostridi? When I get under cover, I go tlwre nw own
way, and not wit* all Brooklyn txtwlin' me out!"

And she went her own way. She went, indeed,
much more expeditiously than I had anticipated, for in
five minutes' time she was dressed and booted and
hatted and scurrying off through the now daikene:!
streets. Whidi trail she took and whiU cover she

. ,^^^ .. ,^^^.-^,.-fe..«

THE NILE-GREEN ROADSTER 337

sourfit didn't in the least interest me once I had n»de
sure of the fact she was faring in an opposite ihrectiwi

to Midcey's thirst-apf easing ca«^«««^- ^ ^^^^T
went She shook the dust of that house off her f*nle

young heeb; and that was the one thing I desired of
her. For that night, I knew, stiU heW a problem or
two for me which would be trying enough without the
presence of the redoubtable Udy Babbie and her san-

^^oi^rX^was dear of that house. I decided to
foltow her example. This, however was not so «^
asithadpromisedtobe. For I had scarcely readi^
Ae foot of the stairway when I heard the «>und of
voices outside the street door. And I promptly rec-
ognized them as Crott/s and Latreilles.

mt discovery sent me groping hurriedly backward
into the daricened hallway. Bx *^^*^^^*^^, ^^
opened I had felt my way to a second fl^ht of s^^

wWch obviously led to the bas«nent \^f^^^
the voice of the man known as The Doc. for the three

men were now ad^•«ldng. and advancing none too
quietly, into their mu^ty-aired harborage. But my
own flight down those basement stairs was ^-t
enough, for I realized now the expediency of shpping
awav and putting in a call for help.

It was oSy after a good deal of groping about, how-
ever that I was able to reach the door opening on the
base;nent.area, directly under the street-steps. A huge

brass key. fortunately, stood in phice there So ^ I
^ed^; I took the trouble to relock that door after

me and pocket the key.

mtimt

338 THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

In five minutes I had found a side-street grocery-
store with a sufficiently sequestered telq>hone. And
by means of this telephone I promptly called r Head-
quarters and asked for Lieutenant Belton.

He listened to what I had to say with much more
interest than I had anticipated.

"Witter," he called back over the wire, "I believe
you've stunAled across something Kg."

"Then supposing you stumble over here after it,"
was my prompt suggestion. But Belton wasn't to be
stampeded into the over-hasty action of the amateur.
"If that isn't that bunch Headquarters has been want-
ing to interview for the last three months, I miss my
one best bet But in this business, Witter, you've got
to know. So I'll slip over to the Bureau and look up
mugs and records. If that faint-spiUer is Bad Nadeau,
alias Car-Step Sadie, there's no doubt about your man
being Crotty."
"She is Car-Step Sadie," I told him.
"Then we'll be out there with bells on," he calmly
announced.

"But what do you expect me to do, in the laeaii-
time?" I somewhat peevishly demanded.

"Just keep 'em guessing," he tranquilly ret<»ted.
"keep 'em guessing until we amble over there and triK
'em off your hands I"

That was easy enough to say, I remembered as I
made my way back to Crotty's broken-faced abode, but
the problem of holding that unsavory trio in anbjec-
tiai didn't impress me as an over-trivial one. Yet I
went back with a new fortitude stiffening my bade-

THE NILE-GREEN ROADSTER 339

bone, for I knew that whatever wi^ happen that
ni^t, I now had the Law on my side.

That casual littk flicker of confidence, however, was
not destined to sustain me for teng. ^ new cMipU-
cation suddenly confronted me. For as I gimrdedly
approached the house from which I'd sent Bab Nadeau
scampering of! into the night I noticed the Ni|e-grecn
car already drawn up ctese beside the curb. And this

car, I further noticed, was empty.

So it was with a perceptibly quickened pulse that I
sidled down into the unclean area, unearthed my brass
key and let myself silently into the unUghted base-
ment Then I just as quietly piteted my way m
through the darkness, found the stairway, and as-
ccnded to the ground floor.

The moment I reached the hallway I could hear the
sound of voices through a door on my left I could
hear Mary Lodcwood's voice, and then the throaty
tones of that opianic old impostor known as The Doc
"No doubt of the fact at aU, my dear
young lidy. The sfwie has been injured very seri-
ously injured. Whether or not it will result m paraly-
sis I can't tell untU I consult with my colleague, Doctor
Emmanuel Paschall. But we must count on Ae^r
girl being hdpless for life, Crotty. helpless for life f
Thb was followed by a mpmcnt or two of silence.
And I corfd imagine what that moment or two was
costing Mary Lockwood,

•'But I want to see ti» girV* she said m a somewhat
tepente voice. "I fiMirt see her." ^^

"All in good tiflM, my dear, an hi good time, tr^

340 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

porized her Uand old torturer. This was followed by
a lower mumble of voices from which I could glean
nothing intelligiUe. But those three conspirators must
have consulted tc^;ether, for after a moment of silence
I caught the sound of steps crossing the floor.

'*He'll just slip up and make sure the patient can be
seen," I heard the suave old rascal intone. And I had
merely tinw to edge back and dodge about the base-
ment stairhead as the room-door was flung open and
Latreille stepped out in the halL The door closed again
as he vanished above-stairs.

When he returned, he didn't step back into the room,
but waited outside and knock«l on the closed door.
This brought old Crotty out in answer to the sum-
mons. Just what passed between that worthy trio,
immured in their whispo-ing ccmsultation in that half-
lighted hallway, failed to reach my ears. Put this in
no way disturbed me, for I knew well enough that La-
treille had at least passed on to them the alarming
news that their much needed patient was no longer
under that roof. And what was more, I knew that
this discovery would serve to bring things to a some-
what speedier climax than we had all anticipated. There
was a sort of covert decisiveness about their nK>ve-
ments, in fact, as they stepped back into the room and
swung the door shut behind them. So I crept closer,
listening intently. But it was only patches and shreds
of their talk that I could overhear. I caught enough,
however, to know they were |»-otesting that their
patioit was too weak to be interviewed. I could hear
Crotty feelingly exclaim that it wasn't kind words

THE NILE-GREEN ROADSTER 34«

wfakh cottW help thU poor chiW now, but only wme-
thii« much more lubstantial, and much more mun-

dane.

"Yei, it't only money that can talk hi a case like
thii," pointedly concurred The Doc, clearly spurred
on to a more open btddness of advance. And there
were further parleyings and arguments and lugubrious
enumerations of possibiUties from the man of medi-
cine. I knew well enough what they were doing. They
were conjointly and cunningly brow-beating and intim-
idating that soUtary gifl who, even whUe she must
have gathered some inklingof their worldUness, comp
prdiended nothing of the wider plot they were weaving
abouther. And I further knew that they were winning
their point, for I could hear her stifled Uttlc gasp of
fi nal surrender.
"Very wdl," her strained voce said. "I'll give you

the dieck."

This pregnant sentence was followed by an equally
pregnant silence. Then came a series of small noises,
among which I could distinguish the scrape of a
chair-leg and steps crosong the floor. And I surmised
that Mary was seating herself at a desk or table, to
make out and sign the precious little slip of papar
whidi Aey were so unctuously consi»ring for. So h
was at this precise moment that I decided to mteifere.
I opened the door, as quietly as I could, and stepped
into ^ room.

It was Latrdlle who first saw me. The o&er two
men were too intently watching the girl at the dedc.

They were still watching her as she stowfy rose froB

1| | .yy< li M »>MI| gW"" '

34*

THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

bCtWMB

her chair, with a Uue-tintcd ofak
herfingeri. And at the same moment that Mary L«ck-
wood stood up Latreille did the same. He rose slow^jr,
with his eyes fixed on my face, backing just as tiowty
away as he continued to stare at me. But that retreat,
I very promptly realiated, wasn't prompted by any MOie

of fear.

"Mary," I called out sharply to the girt who ttiu
stood staring down at the slip of Wue paper.

She looked up as she heard that call, peering at me
with half incredulous and slightly startled eyes. I
don't know wheAer she was glad or sorry to see me
there. Periu^ it was both. But she neither moved

nor spoke.
"Mary," I cried out to her, "don't give that opf
I moved toward her, but she in turn moved away

from me untH she stood dose beside the ever watdiful

Latreille.

"This is something which you don't understand,'
she said, mudi more calmly than I had expected.

"But I do/* I hotly contended.

"It's something which you can't possibly wider-
stand," she repeated in toiiea which threw a gulf yawn-
ing between us.

"But if s you who don't," I still tried to tell her.
"These Aiee here are daim fakers; nothing but crfam-
nali. They're Weedi^ yo«! They're b lac km a iling

yottl"

A brief but portentous silence fell on tfiai room as
6ie bewildered giri k>oked from one face to Uie other.
But it lasted oidy a moment The tahteau was sod-

THE NILE-GREEN ROADSTER 343

deiUy lw«k«i by a moveiiwit f rom Latreak. And it
wa» » qttidt and cat-like movement With one sweep
of the hand he reached oot and snatched the oMwig oi

blue paper from Mary Lockwood'a fingeri. Andwl
beheld that movement a littk alann-I«i« lOBiewhefe
up at the peak of my brain went off wiA a dang.
Some remote cave-man ancestor of mine stirred m his

grave. I saw red. , -

With one unreasoned and unreasoning •!"*»« i

reachedLatrenie, cryingtothegiriasi went: Get

out of this house! Get out— quick r

That was all I said. It was all I had a diance to
say, for LatreiUe was suddenly taking up all my attw-
tion. That sauve brigand, instead of retreating, cau^
and held the sUp of paper between his teeth and squared
for combat And combat was what he got

We struck and countered and denched and went to
the floor together, still striking blindly at eadi other's
faces as we threshed and rolled about there. We sent
a chair spinnir^, and a table went over like a mne-
pia We wheezed and gasped and dumped agamstOie
basdward and flopped again out into open space Yet
I tore that slip of paper from between Latrcille's teeth,
and macerated it between my own. as we contmued to
pound and thump and writhe about the dusty floor.
And I thmk I would have worsted Latreille, if I'd been
given half a diance, for into that onslaught of mine
virent the pent-up fury of many wedcs and months
of sdf-corroding hate. But that worthy known as Tlw
Doc deemed it wise to take a hand in the struggle His
interference assumed the form of a btow with a diair-

344 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

tack, a blow wUdi imtit hvn stanned uie for a
nNot or two^ f or when I was able to tbfaik dcarljr

Latraffle tad at pamtd down, wilk am ktm on my
ctatt and old Crattjr ftttttooad at tta door wMi a Coll
fvvolvtr in hit hand. Tta next nwoMnl LatreiUe
forcod my writtt down h front of me, |erlred ; hand-
kerchief from my pocket, and widi it tied my t^Maed
hands ck>ie togcUier. llien ta turned and curtly mo-
tioned to Crotty.

'Here," ta commanded, '^rinir that gun and gtiard
this pin^taadl If ta triee anythh«, let hhn have it,
and have it food r

Skmly and deliberately Latreilte rote to his feet
He paused for a moment to wipe tta btood and dost
from his face. Then ta tamed to Mary Lodcwood,
wta stood with her back against the wall and her tightly
clenched fists pressed ctose to Iw sides. Sta was very
white, white to die 1^ But it wasn't fear duit held
her there. It was a sort of ooferless h»t of hid^pia-
tion, a fusing of rage and walehftdness whidi sta
seemed at a toss to expiess in eiAer word or actkm.

''Now yoo," balked out Latreille, motioning her to
die desk, 'Hnata good on that paper. And do it quick I"

Mary surveyed him, silently. studkNSsly, deliberatdy.
He was, apparently, something startlm^ new in her
career, somethmg which sta seemed unable to fathom.
But he*d by no means intimidated her. For. hstead of
answering him, sta sgcke to me.

"Witter,** she called out, watching her enemy as sta
spoke. "Witter, what do you want me to do?"

I rwaembcred Lieutenant Edton and his mai si p . I

THE NIL&GSEEN ROADSTER 345

fmHnbtnd ogr own

wti • liclfir to !!»/• few*

^DonliillMtdiijrcNi,'

tiNtti»t

IcnitdiyWlMr. Andl

katwtet

Ae 1ii4 iliWi^ »>»^ •^'^** ^ ^

tgria Yet wl»t Ae ^ Af« I fta«l to iiii«l«tii^

«M. f«r ftllMliOII 1VM cope wow C«B»«Wd «0 Wt Old

fof BQT

•coodM eoTtffaf » wWi «!• COl »«volttr «a re-

fmiwlty »d UiiiiliiiiiinMlsr

|Dfll« BM

tftfOI^^

ifl

to get off tet floor. So 1 toy Awe itB^tag

,Mipon I itndied mf own tOBgdi of liflak imOitd
tiw ffiAdrg o i eiturn e d ibom 0m toem. AaA^atnl
aiiniiiofe.lw&doldCrottj.

Then I iM^wd ilct^d A. I did » I wddenly
twitted inr li««l Md *««d t«mwd th^door.

■B tte .tftactfi of my long.*
U^tMt^t&^tmaO^MlhiAfsmiMhAom. Bt«t

it al«><l^ wmefl^ A. wlildi I lad ex^^ted it to
da Itc«i«dOottytoi^«i«<!rfdifyori^^^^^
der ttmtrd tlic door in <pie«ioii. Aad » tHe ^ve^^
moment Aat lie ewayed tlib mowment I v».utved oat

of my own. ^ , ^

I broo^ my otHitwtdwd kg qp, in one <p tt« Md

Yiekmsldbk. I broog^l aiy boofe-Mie fe aw .tongwg

Uow egtin.! A. «odk of Ar firwm snd A.^?v?«f.

^kmiMditeiilit AiidliwrwBitwi»fwetici% whrt

I i»d M^dpiiid. u m^ i^ fff ^ ;rr^f^

lBiothedf,lfce»diwi4«rtlir deiaf adwdito h^mr

346 THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP

over an depliaiif • btck. There was the tMurk of an
expkxiing cartridge as it went But I bad both timed
and placed its &U, and before either one ol that startled
couple could make a roovci I had given a quick twist
and roU abng the dusty floor and caught up the fallen
wMpon in my own pinioned right hand. Another
quick wrench and twist freed my bound wrist, and
before even a second shout of warning coukl escape
from any of them I was on my feet with the revolver
balanced in my r jht hand and fire in my eye.

"Back ttp» every one o' you," I commanded. For I
was hot now, hot as a hornet And if one of that
worthy trio had ventured a move not in harmony with
my orders I am morally certain that I shoukl have sent
a bullet through him. They too must have been equally
assured of my determination, for side by side tfi^r
backed away, with their hands slightly above their
heads, )jkt praying Brahmans, until the ^aR itself
stopped their retreat

"Stand ctoser," I told them. And they shuffled and
tide-stepped shoohler to shoukler, kidicrously, like the
rawest of rookies on their first day of drill As I
Mood conten^fauing them, with disgu.*^ no my face, I
was intemqrted by the voice of Mary.

"Witter," she demanded in a voice throaty with tx-
citement yet not untouched with some strange exul-
tation which I coul(fai't take time to analyse, "what
sfaafi I do this time?"

I coukhi't turn and face her, for I still had to keep
tliat unsavory trio tmder inspectkm.

1 want you to go down to your car," I told her

THE NILE^REEN ROADSTER 347

owr BV ilwrfder. ••ttd let in it. tad then fo ttnight

iKxne. AwlAtn— "
"Thiif i ibwrd." she imemipted.
**l wint you to do it"
«Birt I doa't intend to," the nid, ignoring my mas-

•*Whyr . _.

**I've been too cowardly Aoot tiiii tlfeidy. Iff
ben quite bad enough, wkhont leaving yon here lilce
that Sobegoodenoaghtotettnuwhatlcando."

I Hked herforAattndlwaionAe point oftel^
ii« her so^ when down bekm I heard Ae qnidc tttflip
wd <^mip of feet And I Idt in ny b oaea t^ ^
amft be Bdlon and Ua men. Then I tcoicnbered
Mary aiMl her <|ciestiaB.

1^ tcil yon what yon can do," I eaid. pohitinf to-
ward LatreiUe. "Yon can ailc Ais man what it WM
I ran down ki my ear hot Hafiow^en.

She waa moving lofwardi with a ftwe f««te without

learbythiithne. But her brow doaded, at that ifieech

of nAie^ and ahe came to a wdden atop, _,_j_.

«I dtm't need to ask l&n," die dowly aduwwledgcd.

"Why not?"

'•BeeanaeliBiMrahMf-'' _^ _,

"He told you?" I demanded, wWi a vieiaia awl

qdte hifolHnb»y jab of Bty barf*«ad kHo cm ot

Latreille'i inlercoftal ipacea.
"Not ^ie%," replied Aeew«^tni^«l Mary. '•But

it was Aroi# him Aat I fbond out I know now k

waa throm^hfan.
*I thotti^ ao," I moried. ** And Atoai^ him yoa re

348 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

now foiiif to find out tfwt lie was « liw and • ilaiidemr.
So be good enough to explain to her, LatreUk, that it
wat a atnw-stuffed <hinini3r we ran down, a street-
crowd's scare-crow, and nothing dsel"

Latreille dkkt't answer me. He merely stood there
with stndkms and half-dosed eyes, a serpent-iase SfoiBt
of Tcnom on his colorless lue. It was» hi fact, old
Crotty who hcoke the sflenee.

"Well do oar taUdn', yom^ ic»ow, when ibt right
time comes. And when we do^ yoo^rc goin' to pay for
an outrage like iMt, tor an tmproroked assantt on de-
cent cttlMnsr

"Wen, Hm thne's come right now." I pronpdy an-
nounced, lor I had caught the sound of Betloa's qdtk
step on the stairs. And the next moment tiie door
swuQg open and that stahvart officer stood sttfhig hi-
tently yet cantioiisfyidxwt the comer of the jamb. He
stood there squhithig hi, hi fact, for several seeonds.
cidndy mspeedhg each face and factor of the situa-
tien. It WHR't wM he stepped in throqgh the open
door, howtvsr, ittt I noticed tfw i^^y^ooldnf servioe-
"tiuiisi hi hia own ilg^ ha«d.

Thafs the bunch we want. aB right.- proehdmad the
oAcer of hnr and ordo* as he tnmed back to the sttlt
open door. "Come up^ boys, and take 'em down," he
eiAed dHerfttlly and ftDw pa ntonahl y out throi«h *e

Anrm. I su|>>

atmkm

Maiy, at the answering taait el ins* qekk-tfanp-
ing feet, crept a little doser to i^r sMi;
pose, had at fant seeped tet>^ and
ofherLockwoodpiida^ Thefinhof

THE NILE- jREEN ROADSTER 349

^ ftnnge hcu, the fffl itraiifer experknces ol that
ni^ Mcmed to have brought about aonie fioal and
urfooked for subjugation ol her ipirit Atleart,ioI

^lought

"Coofcta't you tnlce me away. Witterr ihe aiked a
Htfle weakly and also a little wistfully. Yettherewaf
fometfaing about the very tone of her voice whidi
■cnt a Anil through my tired body. An d that tfmtt
gave me boldness enough to reach out a proprietory
arm wd kt tiie weight of her body rest against k.

"You won't want us, will you, Belton?" I deawnded,
and that lonf-l^g«l young officer stared >bout at us
abstractedly, for a moment or two, before rcp^piiig.
When he turned away he did so to hide rAiat mmd
to be a slowly widening smile.

**These are the folks I \Tant," he relorted, wlA a
hand-wave toward his three prisoners. Aai wHtrn^
wasting further breath or time on Asm I h€^iill«y
out and down to the Nite-green roadslcc

"No; let me,** she said as she aetieed my mdvcmeat
to mount to the driver's se^ lirt she was «NBt for
teveral minti^s as we tiireadad oar wi^ «rt i^"<#
the quiet a.-^ shadowy streets. ^

"Witter." she said at tost wid wii » W^ *>•
must tfiidc r man— an awful cowafd**

"/ was ^ eoward.'* I prodahned oirt of my sadden
n^Mry of iriiid. For Aert were ecftain ti^ wU^
wo^ be terrftljr hafd to forget

"You?** she cried. "After what I*ve just seen?
Aftw what ymfvesfed me from? Oh. how you must

3SO THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP

**lfo,*' I aiid wHh a gu^ of my own. Thit't net
tiie word."

''It't not," she idMortiy agreed.

"If t not," I rqjcated, "for I lore yoar

She nude no r eepo nee to that Iboliih nd mthnely
deehtfaiioa. AH her attention, in fact, eeened directed
toward her driving.

''But I was so cowartfiy hi that other thing;" she
persisted, out of this second sitence. **]viiigi3ag without
understaadhig, condcmnlBg something I was onfy too
ready to do mysdf f '

"And it made jovk hate me?*

"No— na I hate myself T And her gcitarc was
one of proteit, passiom^ protest

"But yon wnist have hated me."

''Wkbtr," she said, speildng quite low and leaning
a little closer to the wheel as she 9pokt» as diongh all
her tiioag^ were on the shadowy road ahead of her,
"I never hated yoo— «evtr! I ooul&'t evw make
myself."

"Why?" I asked, seaicdy knowing I had spoken.

"Bee«m riw ailMQitff loMtf jw%'' she said hi a whis-
per, big with bravery. And I heard a sihery little bell
begm to ring m my heart, fike a bird hi an orchard,
heralding «prif^.

"Stop the carr I suddenly commanded, once die
rtid, the gkirfcxts meanhig of those rix words of Mary's
had sunk tftrough to that strange eore of thfaigs we
caU our SouL

"What lor?" demawdrd l&ry, meffatnkaJly reieas*
big die dutdi and liuowing the brai»fedd 4qwb.

THE NILE-GREEN ROADSTER 3S«
She nt stimiig rtwrtkd into my f »« M we cMie to »

"Bectaie we mult nmr nm iiqrAinf *»w» MN".

I totemiily infomied her.
"BtitIdoii»t«e."ihebeg«i.«why-
nt'» because rm going to ld« yoa. my bdoved^

said M I f«ched out for her. "And lomelhing tdh
me. Mwy. «hat if • going to be » terrafy long oner

TKIBin>

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