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 BIBLIOTHEQUE NATIONALE 
 
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 I 
 
 L^ ^ ^ "^ vCe,^V^ 
 
 THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP 
 
 I 
 
1 
 
 I could feel the sting of the powder smoke 
 
 on ray np-thntst wrist 
 
p. 
 
 <~. r;.' r- '■. ft 
 
 TtSNa^ 
 
 257220 
 
 CoprmoHT 1919 
 The Bom-MiRMu. CoMPANr 
 
 7 
 
 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. 
 
 Hm 
 
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 
 
If 
 
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 
 
 I 
 
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»^' 
 
 
 P 
 
 
 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 
 
w 
 
 m 
 
 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 
 
 II 
 
 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. 
 
12 
 
 THE MAN WHO COULDN'T SLEEP 
 
 Ml 
 
 "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 
 
 13 
 
 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 
 
 IS 
 
 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 
 
 23 
 
 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. 
 
 as 
 
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 
 
 27 
 
 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 
 
 29 
 
 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 
 
 33 
 
 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 
 
 3S 
 
 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. 
 
I 
 
 [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 
 
 37 
 
 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 
 
 39 
 
 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 
 
If 
 
 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 
 
4 
 
 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 
 
 43 
 
 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 
 
 4$ 
 
 . 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 
 
 of 
 
 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 
 
 47 
 
 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 
 
 SI 
 
 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 
 
 53 
 
 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 
 
 [5 
 
 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 
 
m 
 
 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 
 
 I 
 
 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- 
 
 58 
 
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 
 
 6i 
 
 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 
 
 V 
 
 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 
 
 6S 
 
 '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 
 
 67 
 
 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 
 
 69 
 
 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 
 
i 
 
 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 
 
 71 
 
 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 
 
 73 
 
 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. 
 
f 
 
 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 
 
 n 
 
 "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; 
 
 79 
 
 "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 
 
 8i 
 
 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 
 
 S3 
 
 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 
 
 ea 
 
 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 
 
 8r 
 
88 THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP 
 
 H 
 
 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 
 
 89 
 
 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 
 
 91 
 
 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 
 
 ■: i- 
 
 t 
 
 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 
 
 93 
 
 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 
 
U' 
 
 i 
 
 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 
 
h 
 
 I 
 
 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 
 
 97 
 
 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 
 
 99 
 
 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 
 
 .1 
 
 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. 
 
 li 
 
 it 
 
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 
 
 m 
 
 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 
 
 "5 
 
 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 
 
 I 
 
 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 
 
 Ml 
 
 ■MM 
 
THE OPEN DOOR 
 
 "7 
 
 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 
 
 I 
 
 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 
 
 Bl 
 
 
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- 
 
 ii 
 
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 
 
m 
 
 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 
 
i 
 
 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- 
 
 I 
 
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 
 
'm 
 
 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. 
 
 I 
 
 s 
 
 u 
 
 i^ 
 
•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 
 
 J 
 
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 
 
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 
 
n 
 
 f'^" 
 
 i$ 
 
 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- 
 
 wo 
 
 n? 
 
 mr 
 
 ik 
 
 HI 
 If 
 
 O 
 
 o 
 I- 
 
 c 
 n 
 I 
 
 e 
 
 t 
 
 r 
 
 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 
 
hi 
 
 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 
 
 mm 
 
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 
 
 m 
 
 **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 
 
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 Ib 
 
 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 
 
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 II 
 
 *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!" 
 
 
ii 
 
 ht 
 
 i^ 
 
 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! 
 
 A 
 
 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 
 
 Ri 
 
 '■' '• 
 
 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 
 
 i- 
 
 !• 1 
 
 11 fl 
 
 h 
 
 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 
 

 n 
 
 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 ; 
 
 Mi 
 
 
 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 
 
 1 
 
 i 
 i 
 
 I 
 
 u 
 
 m 
 
 '1 
 
 •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 
 
 u 
 
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 
 
 
u 
 
 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. 
 
 n 
 
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 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.*' 
 
,1 
 
 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 
 
 1 
 
 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 
 
 t 
 
 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 
 
 I 
 
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 
 
If 
 
 
 «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 
 
 m 
 
 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- 
 
'I 
 
 ( 
 
 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 
 
 m 
 
THE DUMMY-CHUCKER 
 
 M3 
 
 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 
 
 ii 
 
 w 
 
 ^!: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?" 
 
1 
 
 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 
 
 '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 
 
 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. 
 
m 
 
 T 
 
 »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. 
 
pf 
 
 T 
 
 £ -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 
 
 1^ 
 
 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 
 
 mJ 
 
 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} 
 
 !i 
 
 m 
 
 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 
 
 if 
 
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 
 
 W 
 
 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 
 
 n 
 
 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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 Rochnter. N«w York 14609 USA 
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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? 
 
 Mi 
 
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. 
 
27© THE MAN WHO COULDNT SLEEP 
 
 } 
 
 "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.- 
 
il 
 
 i 
 
 } 
 
 1 
 
 ■ 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 
 
 sn 
 
 «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. 
 
IH 
 
 II 
 
 !»• 
 
 5 
 
 
 #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 
 
1^ 
 
 . 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. 
 
 li 
 
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* 
 
.1 
 
 
 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 
 
 ;i! 
 
 1 
 
 ! 
 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 
 
 m 
 
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 
 
w- 
 
 
 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?" 
 
 m 
 
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" 
 

 m 
 
 in 
 
 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 
 
jl 
 
 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. 
 
m 
 
 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- 
 
 dH 
 
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." 
 
\l 
 
 
 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." 
 
 m. 
 
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 
 
 
■!■ 
 
 i 
 
 : 
 
 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 
 

 'I 
 
 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 
 
<4 
 
 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 
 
 3" 
 
 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 
 
 J 
 
 '4 
 
 ^:.i 
 
 i 
 1 
 
 uJ 
 
 "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 
 
 I 
 
 > 
 
 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 
 
 i 
 
 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 ; 
 
t 
 
 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 
 
 mm 
 
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- 
 
 It 
 
 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 
 
 il 
 
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^ 
 
 i 
 
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 
 
 ol 
 
 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- 
 
i 
 
 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 
 
 I 
 
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 
 
 I 
 
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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