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Lorsque le document est trop grand pour §tre reproduit en un seul cliche, il est film6 a partir de Tangle superieur gauche, de gauche h droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d 'images necessaire. Les diagrammes suivaiits illustrent la methode. 1 2 1 CM 3 4 5 6 3 THE HAND OF PERIL THE MACMILLAN COMPANY mw YORK • BOSTON ' CHICAGO • DALLAS ATLANTA • SAN FRAMCnCO MACMILLAN & CO., LiMmo LONDON ■ BOMBAY - CALCOTTA MBLBOURNB THK MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, Ltd. rOMWTO THE HAND OF PERIL A Novel qf Adventure BY ARTHUR STRINGER ADTHOB or "the iHADOW." "THE IILTU fOFPT,' "niS WlkE-TArPSB*," ETC, STC. NrtD fork THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 1915 All rii/hU r u tn t td 1 H d 70118 Copyrirtt. 191* and IMS. by International Magaiine Company COPTUOBT, 1915, Bt ARTHUR STRINGER Set up and dectrotyped. Published April. 1916 CONTENTS CHAPTER I The Quarters in Paris II The Quarters in Palermo III The Quarters in Manhattan IV The Quarters off the Avenue V The Quarters on the River VI The Quarters in Rome . page 1 41 87 ISO , 219 . 203 PART I THE QUARTERS IN PARIS THE HAND OF PERIL " TTiat*g your woman! " It was Wilsnach of the Paris Office who spoke. He spoke quietly, over the edge of his Le Journal Amusant. But the fingers that held the sheet were a uttle unsteady. "The woman with the bird of paradise plumes?" asked Kestner of the Secret Service, paddling in his half-melted mousse au chocolat with a long-handled spoon. "Yes," answered Wilsnach. "Get her, and cet her good ! " ' fs Kestncr, the wandering mouchard whose home was under his hat and whose beat was all Europe, quietly took out a cigar and lighted it. He was not studying the woman. Instearl he was sleepily studying the end of his cigar. Yet he studied It persistently, as though its newly formed ash held the solution of many solemn mysteries. Across the rue de la Paix, opposite the double row of little iron tables where he sat, his idly wandering gaze caught the gleam of metal letters against a whit^ marble wall. These letters spelt the name of an American jeweUer. The afternoon sun made them 3 4 THE HAND OF PEIUL shine like gold. The same sun glinted pleasantly through the leaves of a sycamore. It shone on motor- busses threading their way through the heart of Paris. It shone on tonncaux in which lounged painted actresses and on taxicabs in which sat tired-eyed tourists. It shone on promenading sidewalk-throngs and red-trousered Zouaves and bare-headed students in black gowns and pastry-boys with trays balanced on their heads and a strcct-tumblcr with a mat under his arm and a harrgard-browcd old man in frugal search of cigarette-t nds along the boulevarde curbing. Kestner, while his mousse an chocolat deliquesced on the little iron table in front of him, saw all this. But incidentally, and as though by accident, he saw other things. Among these was the woman in the bird of paradise hat. He sat watching her as his many years in the service had taught him always to watch his quarry, with that casual and intermittent glance, with that discreet obliquity, which could so easily be interpreted as the idle curiosity of an idle-minded sightseer. Yet Kestner, at the moment, was anything but idle- mL.aed. At each apparently casual side-glance his quick eye was picking up some new point, very much as a magnet catches up its iron filings. " So that's our woman ! " he nnally murmured. He spoke without emotion. Yet he was a little startled, inwardly, by her appear- ance of youthfulness. At the outside, he concluded, she could not be more than twenty-two or twenty- three. That was younger than most of them. In other ways, too, he saw that she was a distinct devia- THE HAND OF PERIL 5 tion from type. She even puzzled him a little. And he was not a man frequently puzzled by the women he encountered. Still again he studied her from under drooping and indifferent eyelids. He could see that she had taken off her gloves and rolled them up into a tight ball. 7Ter bare hands were linked together, as she leaned forward with her elbows on the roimd-topped table, and on the delicate bridgeway of those interwoven fingers rested the perfect oval of her chin. Of these fingers Kestncr took especial notice. For all their slendemess there was a nervous strength ttbout than, an odd fastidiousness of movement, a promise of vast executive capabilities. The mar. watching them saw at a glance that they were the fingers of an artist. Kestner's indolent glance went back tc her face. The pallor of that youthful yet ascetic-lookii 7 face was accentuated by the darl; brim of the hat under the bird of paradise plumes. The violet-blue eyes, at the moment almost as sleepy-looking as Kestner's, were made darker by the heavy fringe of their lashes. Yet there seemed nothing suppressed or circuitous in their outlook on the world. Kestner, in fact, could find no fault with the model- ling oi the face. It should have had more colour, he might have admitted, yet the ivory creaminess of the skin seemed to atone for that absence of colour. The dull chestnut of the heavily massed hair would have been more effective if done in the mode of the hour — but even that, he concluded, was a matter of taste. It seemed, on the whole, a face singularly devoid 6 THE HAND OF PERIL of guile. It was only about the lips, w,tl, their vam,e Ime of revolt, that Kestner could detect anjthL Ishniael-like, anything significant of her career and caiiing. « That's right," muttered Wilsnach, as he bent over r:at:T:L'^:'r -^^^^-^ood-she'sthe " That's where I think you're wrong » remarked the Secret Agent, as he noted the haughtiness of the well- poised head. " I could spot her among a million." .n. WM T'"'' ^^''^ t° spotted," amended Wilsnach. « She's the one they keep out sight in working hours." WalT ? '?"^'." Hstless-eyed Kestner. knl?* *° fine-comb what we know about them out of six different cities. You see shotted .h"; T '^r °° ^-'"^ " I spotted them to-day when I 'plioned you." Who's the man.? " asked Kestner. ent. In Budapest he was known as Hartmarm In Rome I S probably something else. But we're sure of one thing: he's the manager of their little circle. He s also their paper expert. He's perfected a bleach- mg process of his own, and he's the only man in Europe who can re-fill cheque perforations. He's also a lit ™rk." '^"^ ^^P^ - " c,!*T prompted Kestner. • She s the old man's daughter, as far as we can THE HAND OF PERIL 7 learn. In fact there's no doubt of it. He's had her in hand for years. She's the free-hand worker for the p;n.ng. She can work on stone or steel or copjx'r, and she can do the best imitation of lathe-work on a Treasury note you ever clapped eyes on. The old man taught her all that, the brush work, the photo- engraving process, the silk-thread trick, and the oil washes for ageing a note." "Got ai.y samples?" asked Kestner, revolving his cigar-end about his puckered lips as though life held no serious thoughts for him. " The office has one or two. But look at those hands of hers ! You could tell that girl was an adept by those fingers ! " " How about the face? " " That's what puzzled me. She certainly doesn't look the part. But there wert certain things we traced up. This man Lambert brought her to Flor- ence years ago, when she was a mere child. He trained her for miniature painting there. Then he taught her etching and engraving. Then he started her working in oils, and for a couple of years she was forging old masters for him. Next, as far as we can learn, he turned his attention to free-hand script work. He got her copying museum records and manuscripts in the Ufjizi. Then they migrated to Pisa for a year. It was there she must have done the ten-kroner Aus- trian note that the office has a sample of. She also got away with an uncommonly good Italian postage- stamp, for which Lambert had made a waterproof ink of his own. Then they bobbed up in Brussels next, and moved on to London, and a year later were back 8 THE HAND OP PERHJ in Rome, sliding from city to city, and doing the smoothest forging and cheque-raising and counterfeit- ing and flimflam work of the century." " ** wy, she certainly doesn't look the part." " She sure doesn't," admitted VVilsnach. " Pouch- er's got a theory that the old man hypnotises the girl and makes her do the work without knowing she does Jt. But that's fanUstic. I don't even think it's worth considering." Wilsnach stared down at his paper again, for at the moment Kestner was speaking sotto voce to a withered-cheeked old man with a trayful of street-toys. He was speaking to the camdot in the patoit of the street. " Galipaux, pipe that woman at the sixth table on my left. Lift her handbag when, you get the chance. Take your tmie dbout it, and whatever you do, don't mess the job! " The old toy-vender called Galipaux neither answered nor looked back. He merely passed on his way through the jostling crowd. Kesti.. continued to puuuie lazily with his melted mouste au chocolat. " What's your theory? " he finally asked. I rather think the old man's a nut. As far as we can gatl . r, he was an expert accountant in his time, and later swung into bankwork. Then he fell He always claimed it was a frame-up. But he did four years m Sing Sing — wis the school teacher in the prison there — before the other man confessed. That •oured him, and he just went bad after thai. He did THE HAND OF PERIL 9 time again, in Atlanta, but forged hit own pardon and got away witl: it." ♦* Wh- t's the rest of the gang? " " The only other ^ -irson we've been able to ipot is a Neapolitan named Morello. They call him Tony. He's as big as the old man there, and as smooth as they make 'cm. They use him as their breaker and shover. He's been years in America and speaks Eng- lish without an accent. He was a paying-teller in an Italian bank in New York, and later on an olive-oil importer there. He came under the police eye seven years ago for smuggling." "Ever indicted.?" " Never in America. He fell in Europe, a year and a half ago. He got the blue-prints of the Heligoland Naval Fortifications and was selling a forged copy to a French secret agent in Brussels when the German government got wise. They got him back across the border and tied him up with a fifteen year sentence. Then the girl and the old man got busy, did the Atlanta trick over again, and got Morello liberated and on a steamer for Harwich before the officials knew the release-order was a forgery. I've every reason to imagine he thinks a lot of that girl. He follows her around like a dog." " And that's all you know? " asked the unemotional Kestner. " There's an American girl who calls herself Cherry Dreiser floating somewhere about the fringes of that gang, but we can't connect her with them. She was known in New York as Sadie Wimpel, and has a record 10 THE HAND OP PERIL as a con-woman. We know slic worked with a wire- tapper named Davis, and later decided to leave America for a year or two. That was after a badger- game rake-off over there. We first tailed her in Aiii^tt rdam on some diamond siMtif;j;Iinrj work. Later we found her on her ^^ay to Paris with tliis woman called Maura Lambert." "So her name's Maura!" languidly commented Kcstner, as lie threw away his cigar. " But I think you're wron^r about the old gentleman. That man k not a lunatic." " Oh, he's shrewd and keen enough," admitted Wil- snacli. " But he has that one obsession of his." " Which one? " " That nut idea that he can stampede all modem commerce off the range, that one woman's hand, properly trained, can crowbar over the whole modem world of business. His claim, I suppose, is that all our rooney-inachinery, all our business, our banks and credit systems and n. gotiablq security methods, actu- ally d r. nd on one thing. \nd that thing is the integr. if paper. The modern business man has got to i w that his documents are genuine, that his bank-notes are bona-fide, that his drafts are authentic, that his currency certificates are unquestioned." " Naturally ! " " Lambert's got the idea that he can undermine the wliole structure of modem commercial life by striking at that one thinrr, by making men feel that its paper, its bank-notes and bonds nnd cerfificatcs are no longer to be depended upon. He imagines he is going to make banks cmmble and governments totter by siinply THE HAND OP PERIL 11 flooding the country with counterfeits, by leaving every one in doubt as to which is the real thing and which is the worthless imitation." ** And thereby add a little to his own income? ** " I don't think that's the prime consideration. He's always had money enough. I know for certain he got eleven thousand marks for supplying the forgenes of the Kiel fortifications when the originals were carried ttway." " And his next move? " prompted Kestner. " We've concluded that his next move must mean America. It's what he's been planning for, for years. He's laid all his ropes. He's going into the thing on a big scale. In six months* time he's going to unload three or four million dollars in counterfeit on the re- public. In the second six months he'll put out more than double that amount." "And then what? " " Isn't that enough? " inquired Wilsnach. *' It sounds like a very fine plan. But if you knew all this, wliy haven't you closed in on them ? " " Headquarters said hands off until you could take over the case." "That was very kind of Headquarters," sighed Kestner. Then Kestner sat without speaking, for a witht.-ef' -faced street-vendor had placed on his knees a folded copy of an afternoon newspaper. This paper the Secret Agent carefully unfolded and let lie on the tabic in front of him, and for a short while seemed busied with its contents. In that brief space of time, however, Kestner had done several things. One was to hold a lady's bag 1% THE HAND OF PERH. between the flaps of his co^tfront, well under the table edge, and there quickly but minutely examine its con- tents. Another was to register a mental note of every name and address found therein. And still another Mas to trace on a gilt-edged carte des glaces an outline of each key found m the bag of that quiet unsuspecting lady, while the final movement was to slip the bag back into the adroit hands of one Galipaux, who, in due time, drew the attention of a stately lady in a bird of paradise hat to the fact that her purse had fallen to the pavement. And for this, Kestner saw, the mendacious old scoundrel was rewarded with a franc. *' Her money, I regret to say, was all unmistakably genuine," observed Kestner. " And so is her appetite, for I notice that she's just made away with her third Coupe Jacques." ** She is certainly not true to type," repeated the perplexed Kestner. " Well, you'll find her true to her gang ! ** « I'll tell you that before midnight." " You mean you're going to jump right into the case? " " I'm in it already," retorted Kestner, looking at his watch. " I have located the lady, and, if I am not vastly mistake I have located the plant." « Where? " •* The first in a little street off the Boulevard Mont- parnasse, and the second in so remote a place as the city of Palermo." Wilsnach followed the other man as he rose to his feet. THE HAND OF PERIL IS " What'll be your line of procedure? " he inquired. " That I can't tell until my visit south of the river.'' " Then what men will you want? " Kestner lighted a second cigar — as usual, he was smoking too much — and for a few seconds was deep in thought. " I think I'll go this alone," was his final answer to Wilsnach. n Kestner, who at times gave the appearance of being as lethargic as a blacksnake, could on occasions move with the astounding rapidity of that reptilious animal. His activiiies during the hour tijat ensued stood proof enougli of this. Within that brief space the Lamberts, f ither and daughter, K d been shadowed to the restaurant where they gave every promise of din- ing; divers messengers had been despatched and inter- viewed; a number uf pass-keys had been freshly cut from the diagrams pencilled on a gilt-edged carte des glaces from the Cafe de la Paix; an artfully worded telegram had lured Antonio Morello to the Gare de Lyon to meet an Italian confederate arriving un- expectedly from lAIilan, and a handsome pourboire had engaged the sympathetic attention of the concierge presiding over the entrance to that remarkably ram- shackle old studio building in that ramshackle old court just off a side-street leading from the Boulevard Mont- pamasse in , hich the Lamberts were temporarily housed. One of the doors on the top floor of this building, in fact, bore the modest inscription Paul Lambert, Graveur Sur Acier and it was before this door that Kestrer paused, hstened, knocked, and +hen listened agab. Taking out one of his newly cut keys, he inserted it in the lock, opened the door, and stepped inside. 14 THE HAND OF PERIL 15 Still again he stood just inside the closed door listening, for several moments. With a catlike quiet- ness of tread he moved first to one door, and then to another. Then, having satisfied himself that he was alone in the apartment, he began an expeditious and systematic search of the place. This search soon nar- rowed itself down to the large studio, lighted only by a skylight of ground glass, which proved itself to be the workroom of his friend, the " graveur sur acier." For in this studio Kestner found many things of interest. The first tb'" ig that caught his attention was a pro- jecting lantern and a white cotton screen. Across the room from this stood a camera hooded by a square of black lustre. In the cei.cre of the room stood a large oak table littered with etchings and art prints, while between two doors leading into two closets stood a cabinet filled with miniatures painted on ivory. On a second table, against the remoter wall of the studio, stood rows of acid bottles, inks, and a collection of engraving^tools. All of these, Kestner knew, might be used by an etcher on steel or copper, and none of them implied an industry that was illicit. So he continued his search, minutely, and sighed with relief when under a drapery of imitation Gobelin tapestry his exploring knuckles came in contact with the metallic surface of a safe- front. It took him but a moment to throw back that factory-made affront to the Gobelins and discover him- self face to face with an oblong of japanned steel held shut by a combination lock. Within that wall, he felt, lay the object of his search. He tapped the metal 16 THE HAND OF PERIL surface, inquiringly, as a physician's fingers tap a patient's chest. He tested tlie combination, but with- out success. He examined the armoured liinge-sock- ets. Then he stood off and studied the oblong of japanned metal. He was an expert in such things ; his life had made him such. He knew tliat with a little glazier's putty, an air-pump, and a few ounces of nitroglycerine he could in a quarter of an hour have that metal door blown away. Or with a strong enough current he could corrode away its lock bars by electrolysis, or with a forced acetylene flame cut away its lock-dial. But such procedure was not in keeping with either his ends or his aims. He knew that his attack could not be one of force. He suddenly turned, crossed the studio, and stepped quietly out to the entrance door, making sure that it was locked. Then he returned to the studio, took ofF his coat, and went to the large worktable in the centre of the room. There he took a huge sheet of draughting paper, twisting it about into the shape of a cone. He secured it in this shape with liquid glue from the smaller table, fashioning it with a flap lip at the larger end. This lip he in turn glued to the safe-front, over the tumbler, to the left of the combination dial, holding it there until the glue hardened. The pointed apex of the cone he carefully cut away with a pair of scissors, leaving it standing out from the safe-front like a huge speaking-trumpet. When he knelt before the safe again, however, it w«s hio ear and not his mouth which he pressed closely THE HAND OF PERIL 17 against the open apex of the draughting paper trumpet. His ear, even without the aid of this roughly improvised microphone, was one of the most sensitive of organs. But now, through even that thick wall of steel, he could hear the soft click of the tumblers and the noise of the dial as he worked the combination. Hp knew the possible permutations, and he cried them, one after the other, listening always for the deeper sound when a lock-tumbler had engaged. It was expert work, and it called into play both the patience and the delicacy of touch of an expert. Yet it was a full half-hour before Kestrer had mastered the combination, and throwing back the lock-bars, swung the heavy safe-door open. He was confronted, as he had half-expected, by an array of innocent-looking engravings and art prints. Behind these again was a litter of artist's proofs and etchings, such as might h' ^ e been gathered together by any collector wandering about the quays and shops of Paris. He stopped and looked at his watch, and then turned and worked his way deeper into the vault. He worked rapidly now, impressed by the discovery that time was more than precious. In an inner drawer, which he was reluctantly forced to pry open, he found a trayful of photographic plates, and under them a small old-fashioned mothor- of-pearl writing-desk. The lock of this desk he was able to pick. Inside, under a scattering of letters and tradesmen's bills, he unearthed a number of neatly baled packages. Still again he showed no hesitation as he tore the wrapper from the first of these. 18 THE HAND OF PERH. He knew, the next moment, that his search had been at least partially rewarded. He held in his hand a package of American yellow-backs. In denomination they were all " tens." The next package, the same in size, was made up of notes in the denomination of « one hundred." Still the next was a twentv-dollar note, and then came more packages, of the " tens," and still more of the " one hundreds." Kestner turned these packages over, studiously de- ciding that each package must hold at least three hun- dred bills. He qualified that estimate, however, for he could see that the bills were not new. They all carried the ear-marks of age and wear. It was to determine whether they had been mechanically abraded and worn that he drew one of the bills from the package and carried it to the centre of the room under the more direct light from the skylight above. He warned him- self, as he did so, that he had not yet found the plates, and the plates were the one thing that he wanted, that he must have, Kestner was famHiar enough with counterfeiting in all its forms. In his work as roving agent for the Treasury Department he stumbled across more coun- terfeit money than did any bank-teller in America, lie knew his currency as a mother knows the faces of her children. He knew genuine " papc r " instinctivelv, without hesitation or analysis. He could, in the same way as instinctively detect fraudulent « paper." He did so without conscious thought, by some vague sixth sense, a gift that was not altogether feeling and not altogether Uie sense of sight. Even » .fore the mic o- scope was put over a counterfeit and the line of diver- THE HAND OF PERIL 19 gence T»as established — for somewhere there was always a line of divergence ! — he knew in his own mind that a given note was spurious. He had long known, too, both the tricks and the limitations of the counterfeiter, the bleaching and raising, the camel-liair brush work, the splitting and pasting, the hand-engraving on steel, and the photo- graphic reproducing. He knew that the camera work was always flat and weak, no matter how artfully retouched and tooled over. He likewise knew that the governmental lathe-work on a note was a series of curves and shadings and backgrounds mathematical in their precision and unvarying in pattern. No human hand could duplicate the nicety of that machine- engraving, each line unvarying and unbroken from end to end. And since these machines cost well upward of one hundred thousand dollars, and their manufacture and sales were closely inspected, no counterfeiter could be expected to possess one. Yet as Kestner stood in the late afternoon light that streamed into the silent studio and held his newly found yellow-back up before him, he could not restrain a rather solemn gasp of admiration. The note seoned a perfect one. It was on the first i 'onial National, of the series of 1909. It carried Check Letter *' C," and the Charter Number of ■ ■ Kestner's first thought was as to the paper itself. It was genuine bond, of good quality and weight, and tlic closest approximation to the " safety paper " of tlie American Bank Note Company that he had yet encountered. It did not sthke him as being two 20 THE HAND OF PERH. thinner sheets pasted together, although he could plainly see the silk-fibre in the actual tissue of the paper. How his government's secret process had been so successf.illy imitated he could not at the moment tell. But as he turned over the note he saw that the engraving had been as expert a piece of work as the paper-making itself. He saw at once it was not a mere photo-etching process, later tooled out by hand, for every line of the lathe-work was clear-cut, and every touch of colour on the vignette was sharp and full. Even the cross- hatching had been worked out with infinite detail and patience. And equaUy good was the colouring of the border-backs. It took but a moment to establish the fact that the note had been printed in waterproof ink and not supenmposed with a wash-pigment and camel-hair brush. Equally convincing-looking were the denomi- nation counters. It was, in fact, not one especial fe. ture of the note that won Kestner's admiration. It was the beauty and authoritativeness of the bill as a whole, even to the " ageing " oil-wash to which it had been subjected and the mechanically abraded surface and artfully frayed edges. He folded up the bill and thrust it down in his vest pocket, chucklingly anticipating Wilsnach's stare of incredulity when it should be passed under the latter's inspection. Then Kestner stepped briskly back to the open safe, dropping on Lis knees and reaching in for the next package, the one of large denomination. It came home to him, as he did so, that here lay the THE HAND OF PERIL «1 source and origin of what might indeed prove a tidal- wave of illicit money, that here, indeed, lay the means of debauching and imperilling the currency of an entire country. Then he stopped short, still kneeling there, and scarcely breathing. It was just as his fingers had closed about the second package that he heard that first small noise behind him. It sounded like the diminished thud of an outer door being softly closed. A second and nearer sound, that of an inaudible gasp, brought him wheeling about on one knee. He did not rise, but his hand shot down to his hip, where his automatic always rested in its specially padded pocket. " Not this time, honey-boy ! " cried a firm if some- what nasal young voice. Facing him, with her back against the closed door of th^ idio, was a woman who could not have been more < twenty-four or twenty-five years of age. She ha^ a pert young face, with a short nose, a re- bellious and slightly heavy-lipped mouth, and a row of singularly white and singularly large teeth. Kestner noted that she wore the small tiptilted hat affected by the Parisienne of the moment. He further noted that she was startlingly well dressed, and that in this attire she had attempted to approach the chicness of the native. Yet it was plain to see, for all her exotic raiment, that she was American to the finger- tips. But Kestner's mind did not dwell on these points. His attention was directed to the fact that in hpr riaht hand she held a hammerless Colt, and that the barrel 22 THE HAND OF PERH. of this hanuncrlcss Colt was pointed unequivocally at his own head. He did not like the idea of that Colt, for there was a calm audacity about the young woman in the tip- tilted hat that loft the next possibility a matter of rather pamful conjectur(>. "Put 'em up!" coimnanded the girl, taking a step or two nearer him, « and put 'em up quick ! » Kestner assumed that she meant his hands at the same moment that he decided it to be expedient to do as she ordered. " Now stand up ! " said the girl. The audacious grey-green eyes looked him over. Ihen the owner of the audacious eyes sighed audibly. " Gee, an' you an Amurrican ! An' gotta pass away so many miles from home." "Oh, put that thing down!" cried the impatient Kestner, for his attitude was not a comfortable one. The girl laughed. But the ever-menacing revolver remained where it was. "No, honey-child, not on your life!" She took still another step nearer him. " Don't you s'pose I've got me home an' mother to purtect ? No sir-ee, not on your retouched negative! " " Then what do you intend doing? " asked Kestner. He risked the movement, as he spoke, of calnUy folding his arms. ® Her face Iiaidened, for a second, as she saw the movement. But on second thought she seemed to ac- cept the new position as one sufficiently safe. " Yc don't dream you're goin' to get out o' here ahve, do you? " innocently demanded the girl. THE HAND OF PERIL 23 " Why not ? " questioned Kcstner. He was watch- ing her closely, every second of the time. And she, in turn, was watching him as closely. His sense of com- fort did not increase. Yet the look of fixed som- nolence still hung about his eyes. The girl did not answer him, for at that moment the further studio swung open and with a quick movement a man stepped inside. Kestner liked neither that man nor his unheralded intrusion. The newcomer stood there, a little breath- less, as though he had been conscious of danger im- pending and had raced up the stairs. He was an oHve- siiinned, square-shouldered man of about thirty, with close-set eyes, seal-brown in colour. While he was in no way conspicuous as to attirr, there was both audacity and cunning in those calm and ever-searching eyes. Kestner knew, even before the girl spoke, that this was the Neapolitan called Morello. ' Got your gink for you, Tony ! " said the girl, with a look of relief, clearly at the thought of a con- federate's advent. That confederate, however, still stood by the door, alert and non-committal. It was several moments be- fore he spoke. ** Who is he ? " he asked, tensely, yet without n: ving, and all the while studying the face of Kestner. " That's what we're goin' to squeeze out o' him," was the girl's reply. Kestner noticed that the Neapolitan spoke English without a trace of accent. He also noticed the expres- sion in the seal-brown eyes as they turned and studied the open safe. U THE HAND OF PERIL *• What did he get? " asked Mordlo. " You mean, what's he groin' to get ! '* cried the girl, with her curt laugh. She did not lower her fire-arm as the newcomer stepped towards the centre of the room. Tony," she suddenly called out, " this guy's heeled. Get his gun ! " She herself stepped still closer to Kcstnc r as slio spoke, holding her revolver so that it pointed directly at his upper left-hand vcst-poeki t. On the wliolc, Kestner saw with dampening spirits, they were two extremely capable and clear-wittcd individuals. So capable were the}', in fact, that tlieir prisoner stood silent and helpless, with a revolver-harrel within a yard of his heart, while the qiiick-fin^rered Neapolitan explored and felt about Kestner's clothing. He emit- ted a faint grunt of satisfaction as he drew the auto- matic from its padded hip-pocket. "What next.''" he asked, as he stepped back with the revolver in his hand. " Pull out that old oak chair, the one with the high back,*' commanded the girl. " Then get that bunch o' picture-cord from the top shelf there." Morello did as directed. But the girl, all the while, kept her eyes on K( tner. His sustained air of com- posure seemed to worry her. " Now you back up," she commanded, with sudden roughness. " Back up ! Right back until you're sittin' in that chair ! " Kestner turned and looked at the heavy fauteuil of carved oak. A suspicion of what their intentions were crept over him. T THE HAND OF PERIL %5 ** Supposing I don't cure to? " he ventv.red. The girl confronted him with a show of anger. " Look lioro. Mister Pretty-man, you've put yourself in Dutch an' you're goin' to do what I say! D' you get nie? Poke him into that chair, Tony, and poke him quick ! " Kestner sat down with a sigh. The sleepy and half- amused smile was still on his face. H was still watch- ing for his chance. The smile disappeared, however, L jre the unlocked for and lightning-like movement of Morello. That worthy suddenly garroted his captive's head against the fauteuil back while the girl promptly and securely tied his wrists to the chair-arms. His ankles were also made fast in the same way, and all were for the second time wrapped and reinforced with many yards of the heavy crimson cord. Then his neck was released and he could breathe quite freely again. There was now something more than a look of con- cern on the face of that slctpy-cyed captive. Deep down in his heart was a vast rage at the indi nities to which his body had been subjected. And when the time came, he inwardly vowed, some one would pay for those ouLrages. He was still straining uselessly at the cords holding him when he heard a quick cry from the girl. " Thank Gawd, here's the Governor ! " she said over her shoulder, as she helped Morello with the final knots. m The studio-door opened quietly and the same austere and self-contained man who had sat at the cafe table stepped into the room. There was no visible change of facial expression as his eye swept the studio and at one circling glance seemed to take in every detail of the situation. ** What's this? " was his final curt demand. *' We caught this guy rubberin' into our safe," was the girl's answer. She stepped over and swung half- shut the steel door to which still clung Kcstner's sound- ing-tube of pasteboard. " And, say, Governor, he ain't no sandpaper artist, either ! " Kestner saw it was time to talk. ** I want you to listen to me, Lambert," he began, in that clear and steady note of au^ority which his office could at times give to him. ** Shut up ! " was Lambert's command. " No ; I'll not shut up ! We've got something to talk out here, and — " Gag him, Tony ! " cried Lambert, with an impa- tient gesture towards the door at the far end of the studio. Morello stepped through this door, and promptly stepped back into the room with a towel in his hands. This towol he quickly tore in two, knotting the two pieces together as he approached the chair where Kestner sat. 26 THE HAND OF PERIL «7 " There's no need to do this, Lam — " Kcstner's cry was shut off } v the towel with the tightened knot being dexter ■ si} Ioc^' j! -^ver his head and drawn taut, so taut tht : tlit pi-tssur. of the knot on his lips became unendtr a'/ie. Inv< luntarily the jaws relaxed, to relieve the pain. " Tighter ! " commanded Lambert. The band, now against the slightly parted teeth, was tightened and securely knotted at the back of the captive's head. It was then that the man designated as the Governor stepped quietly back and closed the door which he had left partly open. Then he stood in silent thought for a moment or two. It was the girl in the tip-tilted hat who spoke first. ** What's the matter with givin* him a crack on the coco.? " she gravely volunteered. ** Put 'im to sleep until we're dead sure of a get-away ? " The man called the Governor did not seem to hear her. "Tony," he suddenly said with a crisp and in- cisive authority, *' take that gun from Cherry. Now hand me that automatic. Keep that man covered. If anything happens, plug him where he sits. If any one tries to get in here, plug him first, — him first, re- member. Cherry, you frisk him ! I r ant everything, everything, mind you, out of his pockets." The girl, with »\ small frown of intentness, bent over the heavy oak fauteuU and went through Kestner's pockets, one at a time. The man called the Governor stood in deep thought as she did so. As she placed the fruits of her search upon the drawing-table to the left the older man stepped over 28 THE HAND OF PERIL and examined the little collection. He looked up quickly as lie came to the neatly folded bank-note. " So you wanted only one? " he said, and the grim lines about his mouth hardened a little as he stared at Kestner. Then he bent over the drawing-table again. " Tell IMaura to come here," he said, with a quick motion towards the |jirl in the tip-tilted hat. He was studying a sheet of writing which had been taken from Kestner*8 pocket. " Where'll I get her? » asked the girl. "Downstairs in Bennoit's. Promptly, please!" The girl slipped out through the studio-door, and closed it after her. Kestner sat there and watched Lambert wheel a projecting-lantem out into the middle of the studio and direct the lens towards the screen of white cotton at the farther end of the room. He saw the sheet of paper inserted in the lens, heard the snap of a switch, and black across the white screen beheld his own signature, magnified many times, magnified until each letter was at least a foot in height. Morello, tired of standing, sank into a chair, facing the prisoner. In his liand, however, the Neapolitan still held the revolver, and never for a moment did his gaze wander from Kestner. Lambert, going back to the drawing-table, suddenly turned and crossed to the open safe. His search there seemed a brief one. But his face paled as he turned and stood erect again. He was still beside the safe when the girl called Cherry stepped back into the room. She was followed by the woman Lambert had spoken of as Maura, the woman whom Kestner had THE HAND OF PERIL 29 watched as she sat at the little round table of the f afi de la Pair. Kestner's intent gaze was '^xed on this woman's face as she stepped into the room. More than ever he was struck by its sense of reserve, of spiritual isolation, and more than ever he was impresswl by its youthful yet austere beauty. lie was struck, too, by a newer note, by sometliing that seemed almost a touch of fragility. And about the softer lines of the mouth he detected a trace of latent rebelliousness. The newcomer, however, scarcely looked at Kestner. The sight of a man tied and trussed and gagged there seemed in no wise to disturb her. Her eyes went close to the face of Lambert and remained there while she spoke. " What is it? " she asked, in a clear and reedy voice that made Kestner think of a clarionet. Lambert waved a hand towards the signature thrown on the screen by the projecting lantern. ** Try that, freehand," he said. « Then do it over again on the tracing-desk. I want it right." The woman took paper and ink and from a row of pens selected a particular point. She stared for a few seconds at the signature, and then bent over her task. She did not speak as she handed the slip of paper to Lambert. He took it, too, in silence, switching off his lantern, withdrawing Kestner's signature, and adjust- ing the newly written imitation in its place. Then he switched on the light again. Even Kestner, accustomed as he was to the cleverest of forgeries, was plainly startled as he saw that name 30 THE HAND OF PERIL proj 1 on the cotton screen. It disturbed him in a manner which he would have found hard to describe. For even in its magnified form, where any deviation from the original would be doubly and trebly accen- tuated, it stood out a practically perfect facsimile of his own handw nting. This quiet-maniicrod woman with the \nok t-bluo eyes and the misleading delicacy of Dresden china was one of the most accomplished forgers who ever handled a pen. That much Kestner could see at a glance. And at a second glance it came home to him that this same woman, in the right hands, could indeed develop into an actual peril to society. *' Try tracing it," Lambert was saying to her. She took the Kestner signature and crossed to a small table, the top of which consisted of plate glass. She reachcv. in under this glass and turned a switch. The moment she did so a powerful electric light showed itself directly below the table-top. On this top she placed the paper, covered by a second sheet. Then she tested a number of pens, and having found one to her purpose, carried on a similar test with regard to her ink. Then for a silent moment or two she bent over her task. Lambert took the paper from her when she had finished. This time he placed the three signatures in the lens and threw them on the screen, one above the other. Kestner, studying the three, could not be sure which was his own and which were the imitations. The other occupants of the room, he noticed, were studying the letters t^uile as intently as he had done. THE HAND OF PERIL 81 It was the girl called Cherry who spoke first. " Take it from me," she said with sudden convic- tion, " the freehand wins! " Lambert turned to the woman who had done the writing. "Your tracing is stiff to-day. What's the mat- ter? » The question remained unanswered for several seconds. The troubled violet-blue eyes moved from the screen to the man in the fauteuil and then back to the screen again. " I'd like to know what this means," she finally de- clared. Lambert stepped quickly across the room. For a man of his years and a career such as his that gaunt old counterfeiter retain-nl a startling degree of virility. " You'll find that out quick enough," was his half impatient retort. He tossed the papers he had with- drawn from the lens across the table and motioned for her to be seated. " Take half a sheet of that bond and write what I tell you. I want it done in the handwriting of that signature, and I want it done right. Are you ready? " " I'm ready," answered the woman. She spoke in the flat and lifeless tones of a coerced child. " Then write this : * I have made a mess of things, and I am tired of life. I'm sorry, but this seems the only way out.' Then add the signature. No ; wait a minute. Add this : ' The finder will please notify the American Embassy, where the secretary, I trust, will cable the Treasury Department at' Washington.' Have you got that? " THE HAND OF PERIL The woman at the table went on writing for a second or two. " Yes," she said at last, with lier head a little on one side as she studied the sheet in front of her. " Then we'll put it on the slide and see how it looks," answered Lambert. lie took the sheet from her, adjusted it in tlic lantern, and turned on the light. An undeniable tin^de crept up and down Kestner's backbone as he read the words on the screen. It was, to the eye, his own handwriting. It would and could be accepted as his own. Not one person in a thousand would even stop to question its authenticity. The woman named Maura, who had bc» n supporting herself with one hand on the end of tlie table, turned and faced Lambert. " Are you going to kill him.? " It was spoken so quietly that Kestner could scarcely hear it. But the last of the colour had gone from the woman's face, and her eyes, as she spoke, took on an animal-like translucence. " On the contrary," was Lambert's calm retort, " he is going to kill himself." "Why.?" demanded the woman. "Because, as he himself says, he's tired of living. He confesses that in this paper he's leaving behind. And he's proved it by invading our home the way he did. Homes have to be protected. And I intend to protect mine." " You're not protecting it," she contended. "Well, I'm making a stab at it — and a stab at saving your neck at the same time ! " " Oh, what's the good of all this ! " cried the white- THE HAND OF PERIL 3S faced woman, with a gesture of both protest and repu- diation. For the second time Kestner saw the lines about Lambert's mouth harden. There was no doubt of his domination in that httle circle. "It's necessary, and that's enough. You've done jour part, now, Tony and I will do ours." "But you can't kill a man in co]d blood, — you c an't ! " she cried, her voice shaking with a vibrata of horror. *• I've already told you," retorted Lambert, quite untouched by her outburst, " that he's going to do the thing himself ! " " Himself? " " He's going to hold his own gun, and pull his own trigger with his own finger. And to make sure it's his own act, he's even going to hold that gun in his mouth, pointing upward and backward!" He met her staring eyes without a moment's flinch- ing. ** Tony, of course, may help him a trifle, but that's our business. There's one too many in this game. And it's too big a game to drop now. Somebody has to step down and out." " But you can't do this ! " she still protested. Lambert turned on her. " Can you suggest something better? " was his quick and half-mocking demand. She looked from Kestner to Lambert, and then hack at the man so securely tied down to the huge oak fauteuil. "Yes," she replied. " Well," mocked Lambert. « Out with it.' 34 THE lIAxND OF PERIL " If this man knows what you hint he knows, we can't stay in Paris." " Naturally not." " Bill whatever he knows, or whoever he is, he can't be acting alone." " I fail to see his friends, at the moment." " But there must be others, others who — " " But we've got him! " " Yes, you've go'- him — precisely. You've got him there, and he'll be ?ufe there for at least several hours!" " How about us? " " Those few hours are all we need. We can leave him as he is. By that time we can be — be wherever you say." Lambert and Morello did not openly and patently exchange glances ; but the watching Kestner knew that a silent message had been given out by one and re- ceived by the other. "All right," suddenly acquiesced the older man. "Go and get your things together — and remember, we've got to travel light ! " He nodded towards the woman called Chcrrv. " And you do the same. But 1 want you both to move quick ! " The Moman called Cherry stepped towards the door. But the more resolute-eyed woman .still hesi- tated. She seemed to have her doubts as to Lam- bert's promises. The latter, however, was not in a mood to endure equivocations. "I said I wanted you to move quick!" was tht sharp and sudden cry. THE HAND OF PERH. 85 She stood there, staring at him, almost challeng- ing y at first. Then her eyes fell, as though worsted in that silent duel of wills. She started to speak, hesi- tated, and remained silent. Then she turned slowly about and walked quietly out of the room. The moment she was gone Lambert's manner changed. He moved with a celerity surprising in one of his years. Now, Tony, quick — get the notes into that bag of yours. And the plates. We must have every plate, remember!" He was himself busy going through the drawers of one of the work-tables as he talked. " Never mind the other stuff — that will take time. And there's been too much time wasted here already." Lambert snapped shut the club bag into which he had been cramming the different things caught up from the rummaged drawers. Then l.c stepped quickly to the door, listened for a moment, and crossed to Kestner's side. The expression on his face was extremely disturbing to the man in the high-backed chair. " So you work alone. Monsieur Kestncr ! " he said with a cold smile of mockery. " You come after us singlehanded ! I admire your courage, sir, but I de- plore your lack of judgment ! " With his left hand, as he spoke, he deftly cut the gag which lield apart Kestner's aching jaws. With his right hand at the same instant, he reached down into his pocket and brought forth the girl's sombre- looking hammerless Colt. With an equally quick 36 THE HAND OF PERIL movement he cut the cord holding Kestner's right (vrist so firmly down to the arm of the chair. Before Kestncr could cry out, before even he could raise that throbbing and stifFtiu'd ri, .hen down through the Poret's passage," explained the woman, still leaning against the wall. She stood watching Kestner as he THE HAND OF PERIL S9 worked frantically at the cord still binding his left arm down to the heavy chair. " They're safe by now," slic murmured. "But youWc not!" cried Ktv^tnor. vindictive !y, nP the indignities to which he had been subjected lending anger to his voice. "Quite safe, monsieur," she replied, as she pro- ceeded to straighten her hat and then adjust the heavy veil about its brim. " Oh, are you!" cried the infuriated Ki tner. " Yes. monsieur. There are no men, and no Qen- ifnrmes.'" " Then why did you lie : ' gasped Kestner. She smiled a little wanly. " They would have shot you tlirougii the head, mon- sieur ! '* She had turned the key in the lock. Her hand was on the doorknob as she looked lack. " I hope," she said, " that we shall not meet aejain! " " One minute," called Kestnt r, imagining that by hook or crook he might delay her until that fatal cord was loosened. " Pardon my asking, but how long did that plate take you to make? " "Which plate?" " That First Colonial i en." Again he caught a shadow of the wan and half ironical smile. "\v'^l, are you inlercitedr " *' 1 shall always be interested in you." " That is something you cannot afford." Their eyes met. They continued to stare at each other for several seconds. 40 THE HAND OF PERIL " I think we shall meet again," he finally said, with the utmost conviction. " Adieu, monsieur, for we shall never meet again ! " " You leave that to me ! " cried the defeated Kest- ner, and into those five words he threw both the bit- terness and the tenaciousness born of that momentary defeat. But the woman had already closed the door and locked it after her. PART II THE QUARTERS IN PALERMO It was two weeks later that, after the docking of « Nav^gaz^one Generate Italiana steamer at Palermo, an sllTa™"^ -ber-eoloured spectacles stepped As this old woman had taken the pains to await ^^ Z I P-^sengers, and as she ca - attire her risit to the Dogana was a brief one. Then for ^I her humped shoulders and a somewhat sidling method of progression suggestive of sciatic rheuma! trr- ^'^'^ ^ melancholy briskness along del Molo. It was not until she had entered thf Pu^a Vcctardone that she encountered an idle vet- After looking peevishly about her in aU directions she signalled to the driver. The dilapidated^eS swung about and drew up beside her with a xninid c atter of wheels and hooves. The long arm in faded black thnjst up to the cabman a scratch-pad on wit a city address was written. The small and swarthy man of the reins, having scruhmsed this address, blithely nodded hi under^ grin Tor T '''''' ^ ^--^e^ grin For his Saracenic black eye had swept the dowdy figure, noting the well-worn metal ear-tLpet Imnging trom one arm by a frayed black cord, Ihe 43 44 THE HAND OF PERIL antiquated silver-mounted black cane, the gloves of faded black silk, and the shimmer of jet spangles ar- rayed along the somewhat opulent breast. He was nuirniuring the all-condoning word of " Inglese! " when he made note of a further and more compelling fact. The black-gloved hand was holding out to him a ten lire note. Thereupon, having promptly pock- eted the same, he sent his long-lashed Sicilian whip whistling about his pony's ears and his cab-wheels went rattling up through the streets of the city. Arrived at the desired address, his fare stepped painfully and lumberingly from the little open cab, watched hesitatingly until that vehicle was out of sight, and then rounded a comer. This eccentric- minded tourist then walked six doors southward, limp- ing stolidly into the entrance-court of a grey-stone house, as silent and sepulchral of aspect as a medieval mausoleum. Here, after being accosted by a rotund and mild- eyed little man in grass slippers and after writing certain words on the pad which she carried, the new- comer was given a key and instructed, in Italian, to mount the stairs. This slie did, unlocking the first door on the left, withdrawing the key, and again carefully locking the door after she had stepped inside. Once there, she surveyed the chamber with much deliberation. Then she sighed, took ofF the amber- coloured glas 6, divested herself first of the black silk gloves and later of the faded widow's-bonnet. Then she placed her hand-bag on the bed beside them, con- sulted a watch, and with a second deep sigh unbut- THE HAND OF PERIL 45 toned the jet-spangled waist and groped about the voluminous corsage. With a still deeper sigh the hand was withdrawn, bringing with it a cigar. A match was struck, the cigar was lighted, and the figure in dowdy black sank into a chair, resting its boot-heels high on the end of the bed. ^ Before six luxurious pufFs had been taken at that cigar a quiet knock sounded on the door. This knock was oddly repeated, translating itself to the attentive ear into a sort of organised tattoo. The smoLer arose, crossed the room and unlocked the door. Then he opened it, but without showing himself. His right hand, as he did so, was thrust through a slit in the black silk skirt, resting on the grip of a revolver half withdrawn from a padded hip- pocket. The man who stepped into the room exhibited no surprise at either the scene or the figure confronting him. Like the first comer, in fact, he scrutinised the chamber with the utmost care. "Speak quietly," said the first occupant of the room as he re-locked the door. " You can trust Maresi," explained the other, with a head-nod towards the outer passage. " Then what's new? " was the prompt inquiry. "Nothing of importance," answered the other, " since my last wire." " Anything of Lambert? " " Not a sign ! " " MoreUo.? " ** Still under cover ! " 46 THE HAND OF PERU, "The Wimpel woman?" " Not a trace of her so far! ** There was a moment's pause. "And the other woman?" asked the man in the half-demolished make-up, "the woman called Mau- ra? " The other man permitted himself the luxury of a smile. "Has set up a miniature-painting studio on the other side of this block, as I first wired you. A show- case of 'em in the window! And not even a stab at secrecy ! " " And you say she's put in a telephone? " " The wiring goes to the top of the house, across a couple of others, and from there rounds south to the street-main. I've traced it out. It can be reached from the roof of this building! " « r T^-^*'" ^" "^"i-'"ured the other. And it hasn't been interfered with? " " I left that expert work for you." " Then the sooner we get a loop in that circuit the better ! " " You may be right, but, Kestner, I think your iranff has flown the coop ! " It was Wilsnach who spoke, but not the shabby and self-effacing Wilsnach of the rue de la Paix. Instead, It was a dandified, edition-de-luxe Wilsnach as a tour- ist in peg-top trousers and pointed patent leathers, a Wilsnach with a waist line and a waxed imperial Kestner pulled off the iron-grey wig that had been making his head uncomfortably warm. "I think you're wrong." he replied without emo- THE HAND OF PERIL 47 tion, " and later on I'll tell you why. But did you eet the girl? " *' Yes. Not as voung as I wanted, though." " Where have you quartered her? " " She's at the Hotel des Palmes with her mother." "With her mother?" " Couldn't get her alone — she's only twelve. But she's small for her age. I gathered them up in Taor- mina. The mother was working at the Hotel Trmac- ria there. The father's a German named Vandersmis- sen, a tubercular chef, sent South, on his last legs. They're glad of the money ! " " But that mother ! " demurred Kestner. " I've rigged the woman out in a uniform as a Ger- man nurse." "And the child?" " Is dolled up the best the island could do. Neither speak a word of English. They're here waiting, meek but mystified. They'll do anything we want, in rea- son. And she's a pretty kid, yellow hair, blue eyes, Gennan type. But they're costing us sixty francs a day." ** They'll be worth it ! " " But what's your plan? " " My plan is simply this: Lambert knows I'm after hnn. He isn't quite sure how much I've found out about him and this daughter of his. He can't be cer- tain if he's shadowed or not. And that's what he wants to make sure of. So he's posted the girl here at this miniature-painting business. He's made her into a wooden deco^'-duck." " But I can't see what he gains by that." i 48 THE HAND OF PERIL . ,)y.''^'' ^'''■"'^ I figure It out: People m hiding don't usually advertise tluMr whcr. al.outs. They don t post markers. So don t you see what they re driving at? They simply intend her for the fly, and I am the trout that's to jump at it. They can't even be sure the trout's in this particular pool. But ^ they know that trout have a habit of rising to " And this is sure a handsome one ! '* " I'm going to rise to it, at any rate. Only, in this case, lets hope we're big enough fish to carry the fly olf with us when we go ! " ^ j «rM ^'"^ to see daylight," acknowledged Wilsnach. « But what must I do? »» Kestner smoked in silence for several moments. ** Where have you put up? " " ^o^^i de France, in the Piazza Marina. I thought it best for us to scatter a bit." "Good! I'm a widow from Hamburg, remember. named ^ endersmissen — we can't improve on that name. I've a room at the Hotel des Palmes, next to my grandchild and her nurse. I'm deaf, and I'm ec- centric, but I*ve got money." I' I understand all that, but what does it lead to? '» Simply that I'm going to take my little blue-eyed grandchild and have her miniature painted on ivory And I want to be with Maura Lambert when she's doing it." I' She's pretty keen, that young woman!" " Well, I worked for a week on this make-up. I tried It out on Todaro, in Naples, and on Coletta, at the wharf. It passed both of them." THE HAND OF PERIL 49 " And when you're getting the portrait? " "When the first chanc comes, I'll plant a dicto- graph. I'll toss a metal spool from the window and you'll get the wires and run them across the roofs to this room. Keep them under cover. Then I want to get the laj-out of that house, and ward-impressions for the different door-keys. And m the meanwhile I'll be feeling my way for still the next step." "But why are you so sure the gang's here in Palermo? ** "Where the treasure is there also is the heart! Those people 've got a plant somewhere in this city. It's something more than a desk and an etching out- fit. It's a big plant for doing their business in a big way. It's going to be hidden, naturally, and hidden deep. But it's our business to dig it out.'* " And when we dig it oi't? " " It will be no earthly use to us. But I want to know where it is and what it is. In the meantime, I also want a canvass of every printing place in this town. You're a political refugee, with a revolutionary pamphlet to print. And you want an anarchist printer to do this job. That will get you next to anything that looks suspicious." " And supposing we find their plant? " " If we get the plant, we'll get them! They won't be far away from where their work comes from." " They'll fight like cornered rats ! " ''Then we'll keep 'em cornered. And while ^ve're at it, I want to look into that olive-oil export business of Morello's. I imagine some of those cans of his hold stuff that never came out of an olive-press." 50 THE HAND OF PERIL Kestner was on his feet again, readjusting the iron- grej wig. "You're sure this man Maresi is to be relied on? " he was asking. " As true as steel," was Wilsnach's answer. «' He's been doing Department work for us." Kestner stopped to consult Jiis watch. " I've got to get back to that hotel. We can't leave liere together. You have Maresi tip you off when the court is clear, and get awav. Tli. n I'll meet you m thirty minutes at Beppino's. You've got to plant me in that hotel. You see I'm deaf, and don't speak the language." One half hour later, as the two drove away from Beppino's in a clattering carrozza, Wilsnach stared up through the soft-aired Sicilian evening with a shrug of vague apprehension. " I hate this country," he said. "It's a very beautiful place," retorted the old lady in dowdy black, as she stared out through her amber- coloured spectacles. " You remember what happened just about here.? " casually inquired the other. They were crossing a square bathed in the soft golden light of a tropical evening. This square lav before them as calm and peaceful as a garden. But a small and ominous silence fell over the two of them for Kestner remembered it was the square where a groat man and a brave officer, once known as Petrosini. hau been shot down. II It was the next morning that an eccentric old lady in dowdy black, accompanied by a child and nurse, left the Hotel des Palmes and wandered idly and un- concernedly about the streets of Palermo. For a time this erratic trio followed a tinkling herd of milk-goats leisurely out towards the suburbs. Then, apparently tiring of this, they made a purchase from a native pedlar of sponges. A keen observer might have noticed that notwithstanding the silver-mounted car-trumpet, several quietly spoken words passed be- tween the sponge-seller and the old lady in black. Taking up their course again, the idle-minded trio stopped before a house of the pink-stucco villa type. There they peered through the glass front of a cabinet filled with miniatures, showed open admiration for the work which they w ere inspecting, and after some debate entered the house itself. There they encountered a quiet-mannered and vir .et- eyed young woman who announced herself as " Miss Keating," the owner of the studio. It was to this young lady, whose knowledge r ' ' .--rman was manifestly Imiited, that the nurse politdy and patiently cxplair.ed that the old lady in black — v ho, she confessed, was erratic but wealthy — had decided to have a painting on ivory of her grandchild. 61 5« THE IlAND OF PERIL Mi»8 Keating, who shovved smah delight at the pros- pect of a sitter, explained thnt thp cost of « miniature would be forty pounds. The uniformed muse nm vide not of H ' 'liut tlu wins of telcplK>rie, 80 recenllv sti. : iIk ipariincnt, ran from the table-edge to thr ;or, dost' beside the light- wires. Tht J nmc iirongruous innova- 'Ha .) ant, , iti ,1, nd , and "lit ni( n ni o-y p- ^ecti Th' V hicl. tly •nns in • i the doo th.f v '^ ere t i 1 the uc-k dble ufi Hi, I -it of (ill 'i*»y qui young ,\ ma\. on This fat • revpfl d than when las n showed a r epent-d ^ white bro^ mo lines f th. d , a mosi iild-hK Bi . massed hair "^a- the sam light IT th< 4et-bi !e v ngi f . «j; be sa e icongru I V also f I i« tar olf l« th ise of imi stuui mt. as thrown ^ the nr seiiaibilitie 4 lor 4 -Hnn tl ir 1 linesb. Ti.c mere ior' leniy nadc no*o Hi which i the furni- ne stood, '"ace of the nn- 'csk. and ler us eye.s It about the clouded <- of revolt about the full '^' d in a curve that was dull chestnut of the heavily and the same, too, was the with their adumbrating ">vai of the face carried ,4c> on of fragility, of un- ilt of the chin as the head r\L through drooping lids the ying brush-strokes seemed as as before, did not fail to observe the facile and as it worked, and the tho-.- jht that the most skilful forger in all ued the face of its inherent love- moiy of it sent a twitch of revolt thr: ugh the dowdy old lady in black. It seemed in- «4 THE HAND OF PERIL credible. A look of shadowy bewilderment troubled the eyes behind the amber lenses. But the painting went on in silence. This silence was shatterd by the sudden shrill of a call-bell. At that sound, however, the old lady in the arm-chair neither stirred nor blinked. It was the younger woman at the drawing-desk who started, looked apprehensively about, paused a mo- ment, and then quickly crossed to the table where the telephone stood. There, placing the receiver at her ear, she listened intently, speaking back an occasional guarded monosyllable or two, in Italian. It was plain that she was receiving and not delivering a message. \\ hen she returned to her work she did so with some- what heightened colour and with a more energetic move- ment of the fingers as she bent over the little oval of ivory. A second interruption to this work came in the form of a peremptory knock on the entrance-door. Again the woman who called herself Miss Keating stopped in her labours, looked from the noVel-reading nurse to the slumberous figure in black, and then promptly answered the knock. It turned out to be nothing more than a street ped- lar, selling sponges. So eager was he to make a sale, so eloquent was he in his talk, that the preoccupied woman apparently purchased a sponge as the most expeditious way of ending his importunities. That young woman, however, had scarcely reached her cha.r before the knock was repeated, more per^ emptorily than ever. *^ This tim<» she was greeted by the Sicilian sponge- THE HAND OF PERIL seller with fire in his eye and indignation in his voice. He loudly proclaimed that the silver coin she had given him was spurious. This, once she had comprehended his dialect, she firmly but gently denied, only to be met with a louder storm of abusive anger. So per- sistent were his outcries that first the child and then the uniformed nurse followed the miniature-painter into the hallway, where, apparently by accident, the door closed behind them. Yet in the few moments during which that alterca- tion took place the dowdy old lady in black was the most active figure in Palermo. She had fitted kcy- blanks covered with coloured wax to each of the doors leading from that room. She had experimentally lifted the telephone -occiver and heard a voice answer from the other end of the wire. She had examined the desk drawers, and had traced out the wire-circuits, and had even made careful note of what lay immedi- ately beyond the north-fronting windows. When the miniature-painter and her youthful sitter re-entered the room they saw this same old lady dozing heavily in her arm-chair. The child resumed her pose in the mellow side-light from the north window. The nurse went back to her Sudermann. The painter once more took up her brush. But those repeated inter- ruptions seemed to have taken the zest from her touch. She bent over her work for several minutes. Then she suddenly pushed back her chair, stood up, and announced that the sitting would have to end. There could be another appointment, if necessary. But she could not go on with the picture that day. Th? old lady in black, pulling herself together after 56 THE HAND OF PERIL being shaken out of her sleep, fumbled with scratch- pad and ear-trumpet and finally came to an under- standing of the situation. She was by no means willing to be put off. The miniature w-vs begun, and there was no reason why 1 should not be finished, and finished before they started North, Then it will have to be in the evening,'* announced the owner o the studio, " for my days for the rest of the week will be quite taken up." To this the old lady in black eventually agreed, pro- ' vided the .^rk could be properly done by elecJric- iight. On being reassured of this the group moved brokenly towards the door. » f «i But for one brief moment the eyes behind the amber- coloured lenses searched the face of the woman so in- hospitably ushering them out Still again about that self-contamed and ascetic face the searching eyes seemed able to discern some vague sense of the pathos of isolation, as though a once ardent and buoyant spmt had been driven under protest into a shadowy underworld of solitude. 1th the voice as clear and reedy as a clarionet was quietly repeating, as she held the door for her oddly- sorted visitors. ^ The child smiled shyly back at her. The German nurse nodded pleasantly. But the figure in black with the Sliver-mounted old ear-trumpet neither ventured a word of farewell nor essayed a backward glance. She merely trudged stolidly out behind the others. At the entrance door her cane slipped from her THE HAND OF PERIL rheumatic fingers and she stooped to pick it up. This was not easy to do. Slic had to steady herself, as she stooped, with one hand chnging to the door beside her. Yet in that brief space of time a skeleton-olank had been thrust into the key-hole, a quick turn made, and an exact imprint of the wards of the lock left on the wax-coated metal of the key-flange. Waving her cane in a splutter of anger, she hobbled on after the others, without so much as a glance back over her shoulder as she went. in WiLSNACH, as had been planned, waited untU an hour past midnight. Then he left his room in the Hoid de France, struck througli tlie Via Bottai to the Corso Vittorio EmaimeU, swung back out of the life and lights of thai thorough- fare, and hy streets more obscure threaded his way steadOy westward. Then he rounded a block, to make sure he was not being shadowed, and quietly admitted himself to the same house where he and Kestner had met earlier in the day On the closed door at the top of the stairs he played a tattoo with his finger-tips, the same tattoo that had been used before, but this time more lightly. A key turned, and he was admitted to the room. There he beheld Kestner in his shirt-sleeves, with a half-smoked cigar in his mouth, and a switcuboard operator's " hehnet " made from the wires of a bed- spring clamped over his head. To one side of this improvised hehnet was tied a small watch-case receiver, connected with two wires covered with insulation-silk,' which ran to the window. Attached to the other side of the helmet and held still doge to Ksstner's ear by his own hand was a small metal microphone, also con- nected with two wires which led to the window and from there ran somewhere out into the night. " Well, we're getting down to tin tacks ! » quietly 58 THE HAND OF PERIL 59 announced Kestner, as he motioned Wilsnach into a chair and at the same time resumed his own seat What have jou got? » asked Wilsnach, stiU stand- " I've got their telephone wire tapped, and I've ffot a dictograph planted." * "Anything coming in?" anxiously inquired the newcomer. ^ "Not a thing from the di,-ograph. They're aU lymg low. The whole place is like a hen-run^with a hawk overhead. And I can't figure out what's made hem suspicious. But I'm waiting for something over this 'phone wire." " Why do you say it's like a hen-run? " * Because I've found their coop and they haven't altogether flown it! » ^ « They're here? " demanded WOsnach. • I've explored their whole blessed warren. And it's as complete a lay-out as you ever clapped eyes on- only I wish It were anywhere but in Palermo ' " r " ^""."'^"nyo"'^ 'found their quarters?" oues- t.oned Wilsnach, staring at him as he stopped to rl iignt his cigar. bles/^' ^T-/^'"" ^"^ Every The two men suddenly froze into positions of sus- pended movcmont. Kestner was holding hi. head • little to one side, with the watch-c-aso receiver pressed hirfacf'li''" T 1'^""!! ^'^^^ -ncentraLn on his face. He made the other man think of the hen- iiawk agam, a poised and quiescent vigilance forever 60 THE HAND OF PERH. on tlie look-out. And to that other man there also came a thought as to tlie wonders of electricity and the strange ends which it might be made to serve. "That's their pass-word," Kestner was sajing, ^' Che^ maestro avetef They always ask that question Wilsnach was not a man of imagination. In his call- ing he contended, such things were a drawback. But as he stood watching that other man with the tiny receiver at his ear, the subordinate from the Paris Office was oddly impressed by the silent drama of the situation. He was conscious of a latent theatricality in Kestner's position as he sat there so quietly breaking through the reserve behind which their enemies had en- trenched themselves. There, by means of a few deli- cate instruments and a couple of slender threads of copper, he was able to sit, like a god on Olympus, unseen and unheard, yec all the while listening to the petty talk and plans of the unsuspecting mortals below him. Then all thought on the matter suddenly ended, for Kestner had leaned forward with a nervous jerk of the body. " That's MoreUo ! " he gasped, with his unseeing eyes fixed on the blank wall before him. There was sUence for a while. Then Kestner spoke again. " He's just said the Pannonia is due in Palermo har- bour sometime to-morrow, and will saU again at mid- night." He turned quickly to Wilsnach. "Where does that steamer come from ? " " She's a Cunarder, sailing from Trieste and Plume. This is a port of call on her westbound trip." THE HAND OF PERIL 61 " But westbound to where ? " " To New York." "New York!" repeated Kestner, a, he ,«t back, deep in thought. The watch-case receiver was still Deiiig held close against his ear. interested in the I'annoniaf he rununated aloud. " Anything on the wire now? " inquired Wilsnach. Kestner shook his head. Yet Wilsnach stood waiting, with the feeling that there were vast issues in the air. He watched h7s col- league hght a fresh cigar and decided that Kestner, as usual, was smoking too much. /i^^'^'f ^"^^ ^ °' t'^^ that plant of theirs? » he finally ventured. Kestner tossed the silk-covered wires back over his sftoulder. The movement reminded the other man of a girl tossing aside her troublesome braids "It's about where I thought it would be, only with a difference They're using this woman, of course, as their stick-up. The rear door of her place opens on a garden planted with lemon trees. There's a narrow passage rumiing under the stone walk that les between those lemon trees. It leads from the cel- lar o. her house right through to the broken-down v^Ua backmg it. They've taken the old wine-cellar tiiere and wired it and fitted it up for a work-shop. They ve even got a forced-draught ventilating sys- tem, for It's all underground, you see. and shut off with silence doors. And they've got a sweet coUec- tion of contraband stuff there ! " ** Such as?*' 62 THE HAxND OF PERIL " Well, suc-li us throe good-sized presses for print- ing their counterfeit notes, a stock of the finest inks I ever saw outside a government plant, etching tools, and a complete collection of plate-steel and copper. They've got dies for striking off silver coins, and a lathe for rimming gold." " Then everything's grist for their mill ! " "But that's nothing compared to their stock of paper! Wilsnach, those people have paper for bank- notes of about every power in the world. They've got an imitation water-lined Irish linen, five by eight, with ragged edges, for Bank of England work. They've got an equally good white water-lined paper for their Banque de France stuff. They've got silk- fibre stock for their German thousand-mark bills. They've even got South American currency-paper done up in cinnamon brown and slate blues. They've also got the trick of process-hardening steel. I im- agine that partly explains the clearness of their coun- terfeit print-work. They don't print from the orig- inal plate. That woman artist of theirs works out their plate first, on soft steel — and it must take her many a week to do one of those plates! They take an impression from this, and process-harden it, doing the Government trick, except that instead of print- ing from a cylinder they pound it off on a bed- press." ** God, what a find! " gasped Wilsnach. Kestner did not seem to share in his exultation. " But, don't you see, the plant's not what we want! The plant's an incideiit We could wire Rome and have the Italian authorities close in on that plant, of THE HAND OF PERIL 68 course, at any time we wanted to show our hand. It's here, and it can't get away." "You mean it's the people we want?" " It's the people we've got to get. The authori- ties can drop that junk into the Tyrrhenian, any day they see fit. But the people who own the hands that make those plates and prepare that paper can't be allowed to wander about the world at their own sweet will. And when we get one person we get the key- stone of their little arch." " You mean the woman, Lambert's daughter? " " I mean the woman." " Then how are you going to get her? " " I'm going to try a trick of her own. In other words, I think I'll try uttering a forgery. But in- stead of being on paper, it's going to be on this tele- phone circuit. To-morrow I'U have a field-transmit- ter to attach to this bridge I've put on her wire. Then I'll watch my time, and at the right moment have Maresi here call her up, give the pass-word, and speak to her." " Why Maresi?" " I'm afraid of my own voice. He can tell her the latest word is for her to get aboard the Pannonia, some time before nudnight. A cab will call for ner, say at eleven, take her to the Marina or to the foot of Vta Principe Belmonte, and there a boatman will be waiting to row her out to the steamer. Then I'll cut the wire, so there can be no more calls." "It's a fine scheme," admitted Wilsnach, "but I don't think any woman would start across the Atlan- tic at a few words over a telephone." " 'i ii 64 THE HAND OF PERIL " But some such trip is in the air, or thev wouldn't be interested in the Pannonui." " Even though she acted on the uKssngc, there'd be some one in that circle of hers to interfere." " Then, for a few hours, it would be our duty to see tliat .she was not interfered with." " But you and I and M.iresi can't %]it all Sicily. That woman is being watched, you may be sure. She s not going to move far without tlie rest of the gang knowing it. And if it's a suspicious move, they won't be slow about .-tcpping in." " Then we must be there to help them out." m this hanged country, they can have hdf the brigaTt- taggio of the island at their heels. It's a combination we can't stand up against." "Then weVe got to think out a plan of beatinff them from under cover." " But this doesn't take any account of Lambert himself," demurred Wilsnach. " We don't know where Lambert is. But this much we do know: his daughter is essential to his ends. Whatever his personal feehngs may be towards her, he at least needs her in his work. And wherever she goes, he'll tail along if you give him time." "Then how about the other man, Morello?" " Morello's in the same boat with Lambert. He'll follow the woman. And he'll be in New York, for that oUve-oil importing business needs him there. I found twelve of his gaUon tins in the wine-cellar. They ve been packing them with counterfeit paper, hlling them up with sand and cork-dust to make the THE HAND OF PERH. 05 right weight, and then soldering the tops on. It's as neat a scheme as I've stumbled on for some time and the Treasury Department's got to get busy ou that Morcllo brand of oil ! " « And would this mean that jou'd be on the Pan- nonia yourself? " " I'd have to slip aboard at the last moment." Wilsnach was on his feet, pacing perplexedly up and down the barren little room. " You land your woman in New York, of course, but what do you get out of it? ** *' First I get the woman." " But what do you mean by getting her? " inters rupted the other. " And what will you do with her when you've got her? " "Heaven only knows," finaUy admitted the man with the hehnet of wire across the top of liis head. ** rU confess the woman is more interesting than — " ® I* Wait ! " cried Kestner. His voice was sharp and quick. " There's some one on the wire. That's the pass-word! They're g-oing to talk again." Once more silence reigned in the barren little room. Wilsnach sac watching the other man's face. There seemed something grotesque in t! pose of the for- ward-stooping body, in the inclin i head, in the va- cant stare of the eyes that encompassed nothing of their surroundings. But Wilsnach knew by the fine moisture lending a scattering of high-lights to the inten^ 'ace before him, that things of moment were trickling in along that tiny rivulet of silk-covered copper. 66 THE HAND OP PERIL The silence prolonged itself interminably. WOs- nach became restive, shitting his position and .tiU waiting. But neither spoke. Kestner sat hack in his chair, with a sigh. Then conscioMsnoss ot his im.nediatc surroundings returned to hini. lie looked tired bu^ contented. "MR'^i won't need to seud that message for us" he said vei7 quietly. « Lamberfs on the i'annonia!" \V lisnach stood staring down at him, slowly digest- ing this unlooked-for information. "Lambert — on the Panmnia? " he intoned, with voluptuous delay in the delivery of each pregnant " And his daughter is to join him there, «s late as possible to-morrou niglit, before the boat sails.»' ** You're — you're sure of this - " "Positive! And the gentleman known as Antonio Morello IS to foUow on a later steamer. He will f,o steerage And like most immigrants, he wiU tale his own bedding. But sewn up i„ h-'s mattress he is to carry in seven of Maura Lambert's note plates " Wilsnach sat down on the edge of the narrow bed. Then he sighed devoutly as he stared at the wire hel- met. ^CT^r^ct ^^^r learned the tricks of the wire-tapper ! This ruts right into the A ^"^'r P^^^'^ "g^'* 1^-nds! And this means I can be back in Paris by Friday > " But m the meantime," suggested Kestner, taking the helmet from his head, "I'd like vou to relieve me here while I get six hours' sleep. If anything goes THE HAND OF PERIL over the wire, jot Jt down. And keep an ear open for that dictograph." "But what's there left for us to do?" " Several things ! One of thim is to rig up my field-transmitti r. And among other things, I've got to be shaved to the blood again. Vou see, I still have that appointment with Morira Lambert to-morrow at eight," " But what's the use of that, now? You've got the bunch where you want them, and inside of three weekf you'll have »em behind bars ! " *' Still, T think I'll keep that appointment." " But it's on! V facing danger when there's no need for it ! " "Well, I imagine it's worth it," wa* Kestner's somewhat enigmatic reply. IV At eight o'clock the following evening the dowdy old lady in black, th. innocent-eyed grandchild, and the umfonned nurse duly made their appearance at the door of the Palermo miniature-painter. Here they were duly admitted, and, as on the daj before, disposed themselves in their various places. Outwardly, the studio showed no signs of change. Yet on this occasion some newer and undefined spirit of tension intruded itself on that incongruous circle. Ihe old lady with the ear-trumpet, it is true, appar- ently made herself quite comfortable in the arm-chair But before ,ing so she moved this chair back amiinst the farthest wall of the room. She betrayed no active interest in the scene before her. It is equally true, yet at no time did she permit the eyes behind the amber glasses to close in slumber. ^ The somewhat mystified nur.se no longer found rel- ish m the pages of her Suderniunn. The artist bend- ing over the drawing-desk no longer struggled to talk in broken German with her youthful sitter. She worked on her oval of ivory with perfunctory and spasmodic haste, interrupted by brief spaces of inac- tion. Durmg these interims of idlen. ss sIk- sat star- ing thoughtfully at the sloping desk-top in front of her. The silence w.ighed hc-avily on the child in the stiff-backed chair, bhc moved restlessly, from time 68 THE HAND OF PERIL 69 to time. Then her eyelids drooped, her head nodded sleepily forward, and she recovered her equilibrium with a start. The woman bohind the drawing^lesk watched the small blonde head as it nodded again. Then she suddenly rose to her feet, turning to the nurse as she spoke. "This child is tired," she said in the best German at her command. Yes," admitted the woman in the nurse's uniform u . 1 ^ ^° *° her back to the notel. The pose is useless now." ** You do not need her? " " The picture can be finished without a sitter " And as though to close all argument, the minia'ture- pamter crossed the room to the door and opened it The nurse tied the child's hat-ribbons under her chin.* I shall not need you again," Maura Lambert was repeating, with the ghost of a smile. « Only I should like to speak with the grandmother for a few minutes " " But the grandmother is quite deaf," protested the slightly puzzled German woman. " Notwithstanding that," was the other woman's reply m English, " we shall get on very nicely." Kestner, at that first message of dismissal, had risen to his feet His instincts warned him of something ; lectric m the air, of something impending. His in- itial impulse was to intercept the departing couple, iiut on second thoughts he let t„em pass out through the opened door without speaking. The calm-eyed young woman closed the door again, and crossed slowly to the drawing-desk. 70 THE HAND OF PERIL " Perhaps you would like to see my work as far as It has gone, she inquired, without raising her voice to assure yourself that it is authentic, that my vo- cation IS not unlawful." ^ Kestner, in a mechanical continuation of his role, raised the car-trumpet to the edge of his wig. lliat ,s quite unnecessary," said the woman at the drawing-desk, with a movement that scemerl- one of mingled contempt and impatience " You heard perfectly well what I said ! '» And still Kestner remained silent, knowing only too well that his voice would irretrievably betray him He merely watched the woman as she 'crossed to the wide-topped table on which the telephone stood. Ihere she sat down, facing him. " The make-up is admirable, monsieur^ she went on m a coerced evenness of tone. « But work such as mme demands unusual acuteness of eyesight." She leaned forward on the table. « I am Maura Lambert. And you are Lewis Kestner. I had the pleasure of recognising you when you first came into the room, bo please be seated, .Air. Kestner." n.J^^tr*r"*,T'^' ^ ^'^PP^ ""'^ Lewis Kest- ner. Ho found himself, in the first place, confronted hv the ignominy of being beaten at his own ga.ne. lie also faced the hun.iliation of the actor who has failed in sustaining a lol,.. And he nursed the for- lorn realisation, as he stared at her through tl,. futile amber^oloured glasses, that he was both cutting a very ;orr3- fiffi.re and that nothing was now to be gainea by trying to face the thinjr oui. "But Kii it a pleasure, Miss Lambert.?" he in- THE HAND OF PERIL 71 quired of her, with an effort toward coolness, as he seated himseli in the arm-chair. " Only in so far as all duties accomplished can be called a pleasure," was her acidulated response. " Then you have done what was expected of you" " demanded the Secret Agent, parrying for his opening. Only partly, Mr. Kestner," was her reply, « for the most painful part of it has yet to come.»» lie was perversely conscious of the fact that he wished to talk to her, to hear her voice, to await some accidentel sounding of a note tliat would not be im- personal, to break through the mists which were mak- ing her personality such an elusive one. 2 And that part is ? " he prompted. " That I cannot tell you." She was silent for a moment or two, staring down at the table in front of her. « I helped you once, and gained nothing by it. Ihis time I must think of myself." An inapposite impression of her bodily fineness, of a wayward delicacy of line and colouring, crept over him, even m that moment of tension. " But are you thinking of yourself? " he demanded. Only once before, he remembered, had this personal note been struck betwoci fhcu and that for not more than a breath or two. Once only had there been anv- thmg more than a hand grope through the vagi'ie ' rap.nes of reserve shutting her of from hm world. And if - ' ,n, bed Kestn. r to find himself confronting her With rmofK.ns which, iw^wever mix«d, iMf» itill actual and disfurbing, "What do you mean by thatr ' ,he countered. He knew she was a woman of spirit H« could Me 7« THE HAND OF PERIL that by the quickened colour, by the full under-lip of a mouth that was warm hut not yielding, by the im- mediate and open challenge of the translucent eye. "^ut he decided, now that the chance he had been wHitirirr for had come, to tell her what he felt it his duty to tell her. " Vou can't go on with this work," he said, quite simply. She looked at him with wonder in her quiet stare. "I'm compelled to go on uiHi this work," she re- torted, speaking as quietly as he liad spoken. "How can you.?" he inquiivd. He felt that he must be very foolish-looking, in the transparencies of his outlandish make-up. He was conscious of being at a disadvantage, of having suffered a loss of digw nity, of standing a sorry figure for the utterance of the things he most wanted to say. ** How can you? " he repeated. Her face suddenly grew quite white; she sat ar- rested m a pose where some new thought had struck her. Then she reached down and opened one of the drawers at her side. Kestner could not see what she held in her hand. He arrived at his own conclusions. But he did not change ])is position. " / could ^hoof ijou! " she said, witli the same even cahnness with which she had spoken before. He noticed that her right hand mo\td forward. But he did not change his position. He merely de- cidtd that he km u Iiis woman. "On the contrary, you are altogether afraid to,** was his tranquii-noted rejoinder. THE HAND OF PERIL 75 They faced each other, with glances locked, for sev- eral seconds of embattled silence. " It would simplify matters," she said. She was .'..caking more to Jursclf tlmn to him. "Again on tiic contrary, it would sadly complicate them," was Kestner's reply. " Why ? " she asked. But that dangerous look of appraisal, of hesitation between two possible ends, was still m her eyes. "^Because you're fighting something bigger than I am, he told her. "Because in two minutes another would take my place, and another his place, and still another, and then still another, if need be." ^ There was something nettling in the half-wearied mdifferency of her smile. He knew that he was not making an impressive stand against her. And it did not add to his peace of mind to remember that Wils- nach at the other end of his dictograph wires was an auditor of every spoken word. "That's a very pretty play-actor speech, mon~ **eur, the woman at the table was saying " But 3-our trade is as full of tricks and deceits as mine, liiat, at least, you have already proved to me." iiwi"".?',!^ P''"'' something else," said Kestner. "What?" she demanded. "Lift that receiver at your elbow, and ask if you are watched - watchecl at this moment. Speak just those three words into it : ' Am I watched? ' " She sat studying his face intently, her mind stfll occupied with some inward debate. ' Then with her left hand she Ufted the transmitter closer to where she •at. With the same hand she took the receiver from i Ait 'Ml 74 THE HAND OF PERIL its hook. Her right hand, he noticed, still held the unseen thing which had been lifted from the Uble drawer. "Am I watched? '* she said into the transmitter, with the clear and reedy voice which had first reminded Kestner of a clarionet. He could not hear what answer came back to her over the wire. But he knew that Wilsnach was there with the field-transmitter in front of him — and he knew that Wilsnach would not fail him. She did not raise her eyes to her enemy as she slowly hung up the receiver. But that enemy knew, by the look of troubled thought clouding her brow, that the ejcpecied message had come in to her. When she spoke, she did so with a slow impersonal- ity which gave an added barb to her words. The situation," she quietly announced, " is not without its Lovelt>. For I am compelled to acknowl- edge that you too are being watched ! '» truMon of the personal equation. When he had erred t?on T.T'*' ^fr^'^y through the emo- tions \et here ho had made the mistake, as Wils- nach had anticipated, of confounding a case by driv- ing rein to a personal impulse. There are times, however, when the ultimate truths of instmot and feeling are san.r than facts. And Kestner, as he looked at the violet-hh.e eves facuu. JHm. saw nothing to deplore and little to rJ^n-et II. only wished he was well out of that dowdy black silk 7Z:T' — P--<* with the gloom of his tone a casual one. "And who or what happens to be watching me? " FF*"* f would only mean to bring danger st.ll closer to you," she replied, puzzled by h"! sustained air of fortitude. y f oy nis 3uZt^*^ «Tht' '° 'T'l'f «lf ; J j^Portant fact is that you and I thl^Tut '''' "^^^^ ^'^^k this " What thing? she parried. t7ile^;*;l*^' 'P^"*/^ '-^^^ the at- tainment of h« own ends was crowning him. 75 T6 THE HAND OF PERH. "To preach about what?" she still inquired. He realised that she still shrank back from those frontiers of intimacy which he seemed bound to cross. " About this life you're leadin/f," he said. " About what it will lead to, and what it will do to you." " Is painting on ivory so fatal? " she asked. But her smile was almost pitiful. "It's crime that's fatal," cried Kestner. "You can't succeed, neither you nor your father nor Mo- rello. You're getting protection of a kind at the present moment. But it's a poor kind, and it can't last! You're facing the wrong way. You'll only go down, and still farther down, and at every step you'll have meaner and dirtier work to do. You'll go down until you're nothing but a slum-worker leading the life of a street-cat. You'll shut yourself off f ii every decent influence that can come into a woman's life. And even though you should slip through the hands of the law — and you can't do that — month by month and year by year you'll fall lower and lower, lying and cheating and flimflamming and bunco- steering and scurrying from one warren to an- other." " Wait," slic said, white to the lips. But Kestner did not choose to wait. " You won't couie in contact with one man vou cm respect or trust. But crooked as they are, tin tn ie will come when you'll have to turn to them for pro- tection. And if they give you that, they'll . xiiect their i)rice for it. And they'll get their p-icc, iri ^he end. Oh, believe me, I've seen the woman advcnti: -r. I've followed their careers, by the hundred — ot THE HAND OF PERIL 77 through novels, but through life. Thej all lead one way, and that way is down ! " The woman sitting opposite him did not speak for several moments. Her face was very wl,ite. Kest- ner could see the blue veming in the temple under the heavily massed chestnut hair. When she .poke she spoke very quietly. "All tills is very eloquent," she said, "and, I'm afraid, very obvious. But it is quite beside the mark. IJiere are thmgs you don't understand. But tlie fact remams that I am already with these people. And I intend to stay there until the end!" "But what end?" demanded Kestner. "It will not be the end you expect," was her tran- quii-toned reply. *' I know your position, and I know what it leads " Yet hopeless as that position appears, I may en- joy advantages unknown to my enemies." ** I am not your enemy. I have no desire to be." ^' In that," she answered, " I cannot believe you." " But I have nothing to gain in all this." Thot is the one thing I doubt," she replied, after a sbght pause. "How can I prove it? " She pondered a moment. " By going quietly through that door, returning to your hotel, an.i taking the night boat for Naples, and from Naples returning to Paris." Kestner did not even smile. " It will be for your own good," she warned him. lor your own safety." 78 THE HAND or PERIL " That is a feature of the situation on which I am not permitted to figur' he said. She glanced at the kuther-hound travelling clock on the table in front of her. "It is nior.^ dangerous, every monien' you stay,** she said, and he fi It sure her uneasiness was not a pre- tence. He crossed to the table and stood in front of her. " Do you know," he said, quite close to her, " I don't believe you're as bravo as you'd have me believe, or as hard ar. they've tried to make you! You*re not that sort ! I can't believe it ! ' She was about to answer luin, with her eyes still fixed on his, when the faintest shadow of a change crept over her face. The lips framing themselves to speak remained silent. Her gaze did not actually wander from his face, yet he knew that into her line of vision some outer and newer clement had entered. He had no time to determine what this was. But at the same moment that it flashed home to his wonder- ing mind that a door Lrhind had opened and some one had stealthily entered the room, he heard her voice, a little thin and shrill with fear. " Tony — don't shoot! He saw her hand dart out to the comer of the table. The movement was so quick that it left him no time to determine its significance. But the next instant the room was in utter darkness. " Don't shoot," he heard her pleading, almost in a frenzy. " Not yet — not yet ! " Kestner swung his body about the corner of the table, stooping low as h.t did so. He brus.^ed the THE HAND OF PERIL 79 woman's skirts, and crouched there. He could hear her breathing, quick and tense, as she waited. Yet even at that moment he was conscious of the fact that he did not want her to know he was hiding there, that he was usin^j licr as a shield. It was then tlwit he hoard MoreUo'a voice out of the darkness, quite close to him. « No!'» proclaimed the Neapolitan, with a catch of the l.reatl, that was almost a grunt of contempt. « I will not shoot ! But I will cut his heart out • »» Kestner edged forward to the table again, padding quickly and lightly about its surface. He had started to grope through the foolish and faded black draperies for his own automatic, when he remembered the other revolver which the woman had taken from the drawer. He felt a little easier in mind when he held it in his nand. A« he backed away again he could hear Morello cross the room. He listened intently, for he had no ove for naked steel. The next moment he heard a key turned in a lock, and then the sound of the key with- drawn. ' "What are you doing?" asked the woman's voice through the blackness. Kestner knew the was stiU standmg close behind the table. " Turn on the lights," panted Morello. Kestner dropped on his hands and knees and wormed his way over to where he remembered the wires ran from he table to the floor. He caught and twisted them together, using the revolver-barrel for a lever He twisted them until they snapped under the strain.' He knew then that the light-circuit was broken 80 THE HAND OF PERU. " Turn on the lights ! " cried Morello, this time in a command. " When you promise to do what I say," contended the woman at the tublc. An oath escaped the Neapolitan. " Do you want that man to escape? " Kestner, as he crouched low, awaiting his chance, Mondered if she did or not. He knew he still carried a key for that carefully locked door. He also knew that it would have to be used silently. So he crouched there, still waitin"-. "Oh, I'll get you!" he heard that Americanised Neapolitan voice announce, with still another oath. The Secret Agent felt, from the sound of that voice, that his opponent had retreated to the farther wall, so as to command a full view of the place. The next moment a white bulb of light exploded on the darkness, wavered about the wall, and pencilled for one interrogative moment towards the locked door. Kestner knew that Morello had turned on a pocket flash-light. As quick as the thought came home to him, and before the light could steady itself, he aimed directly into the heart of the bulb and fired. There was a gasp from the woman, a cry from the man. But the light went out. And at the same mo- ment that he pulled the trigger Kestner leapt to one side. He ran with cat-like quickness, for he knew what was coming. He was almost at the locked door before the first shots of that quick volley rang through the room. And he know the shots were being fired at the quarter in which the flash of his own gun had shown itself. THE HAND OF PERIL 81 He was at the door, and his key was in the lock, be- fore the reverberations from that vollej had died down. He had the door open and had sidled out be- fore he heard Morello's repeated command for light, and the woman's distracted cry that she could not turn them on. Kestner, listening to their contending voices, closed the door and locked it. He decided, on second thoughts, to leave the key where it stood. Then he groped his way through the velvety blackness to the street door. As he expected, he found it locked. But for this, too, he still carried his pass-key. He opened the door quickly but cautiously, dread- ing what the sound of those shots might at any mo- ment bring about him. It had never been an inviting neighbourhood: and it was no longer an inviting household. He held his automatic in his right hand a*, he slipped through the partly opened door and faced the narrow street. He saw that street lying peacefully before him, bathed in its white Sicilian moonlight. He could see the serrated shadow-edge of the house- fronts dividing the roadway, one half in moonlight, one half in unbroken darkness. ^ It was as he squinted down this tranquil moonlit vista, feeling sure that Wilsnach would be coming on the run at any moment, that the gloom opposite him was stabbed by a jet of flame. Kestner, at the same moment, stumbled back with a sense of shock. He awakened, the next second, first to a stinging sensation along the top of the head, and next to the fact that he had dropped back into a half- 82 THE HAND OF PERH. crouchin;j and half-sitting posture on the stone door- step. He threw up one hand, involuntarily, to find thiit his iron-grey wig had been whisked from its place on the top of his head. He did not wait to decipher this seeming miracle, for another stab of flame flashed from the gloom, and then another and another, from different points along the shadowy line of houses. By this time Kestner had awakened to what it all meant, for still again he felt a quick sting of pain across the ridge of l is shoulder. And his blood was up. It was then that he brought his automatic into play. He watched for h's hght-flash, and shot abstemiously, remembering that his ammunition was limited and his period of defence problematical. He was firing with the second revolver when Wils- nach came dodging and scurrying and fighting his way to the door. He kept calling out, as he came nearer, for the other man to get back out of the light. Kestner did not get back out of the light, however, until he had seized the panting Wilsnach and swung him in through the half-opened door. Then the door was slammed shut and a key turned in the lock. The darkness was Cimmerian. But Wilsnach could feel Kestner catching and tugging at his coat-sleeve. "Quick!" cried the Secret Agent. ''They're on both sides of us here ! " " But are you hurt.!* " demanded Wilsnach. " I've got a scratch or two," was the other's hur- ried answer. " But we'll be getting a heap worse if we're not out of here in three minutes ! " He was dragging Wilsnach back deeper into the velvety dark- THE HAND OF PERIL 83 ness. "D'you hear them? They'll have that door down in a jiffy!" " But we can't hide In this hole! " panted Wilsnach. Kestner was now stumbling and groping his way through the blackness. " Come on ! " he conmaanded. " But where? " demurred Wilsnach. " We've still got the wine-cellar. There's a chance there, if we're quick enough." The next minute thej were running down a flight of stone steps, fumbling with a door-lock, and grop- ing and passing their way along a mouldy passage be- tween unbroken walls. "Hurry," urged Kestner. "And keep one hand against me, through this crowded press-room." For he was groping with both hands now, fleviously, through a larger chamber that smelled of benzine and inks and acids, then fumbling and struggling with an- other door-knob, and climbing still another flight of stone steps. " Stoop low ! " panted Kestner, as he bent a little unsteadily to unlatch a small grated window no big- ger than a kennel-front. He swayed from side to side as he did so, like a man uncertain of his footing. He was attempting to scramble up through the open- ing, but seemed without strength to make it. Wils- nach got a slioulder under him and pushed him up. When Wilsnach followed he found Kestner still on the flagstone outside, lying flat and gulpinr down quick lungsful of fresh air, as though the last of his strength had gone. Wilsnach had to help the other man to his feet 84 THE HAND OF PERIL "It's all right," he whispered. "There's the strada just beyond this wall! " Wilsnach, with an arm about his colleague, scur- ried unsteadily along the deep shadows of the house- fronts, rounding a comer and striking further east- ward. " And there's a carrozza! " panted Kestner, with his hand pressed to his side. Wilsnach, the next moment, was hailing the driver. Night-hpwks, the world over, can never afford to be too inquisitive. So the swarthy little Sicilian made no comment as the all but helpless Kestner was lifted bodily into the open carriage. "Where to?'* asked Wilsnach, jumping in beside him, with one glance back to make sure they were not being followed. " Tell him to get us down to the Via Francesco Crispi, quick!" was the determined but weak-toned answer. Wilsnach repeated the order. Then, as he sat back on the worn seat-cushions, he stared down at his hand, rubbing his fingers slowly together and stooping over them in the white nr sonlight. He slipped one hand back o/er Kestner's left shoul- der. " There's blood on your coat," he suddenly an- nounced. The other man languidly lifted a hand and felt his wet shoulder. " I got a crack on the collar-bone," he explained, with a wan attempt at a laugh. " Is that all?" Again Kestner raised a languid hand and felt gin- THE HAND OF PERU, 85 gerly along the top of his bare head, where the hair was matted and wet and still warm to the touch. " And what feels like a bullet-scrape along my bump of veneration," gently added the Secret Agent. " Then we must get to a hospital ! " cried out the suddenly perturbed Wilsnach. " Not on your life," was Kestner's answer as they went rattling down through the narrow streets. " Then where in the name of God are we going? " WUsnach suddenly demanded. « We're going to the water-front, where we can find a boatman ! " " A boatman.? " echoed Wilsnach. "A boatman to get us out to the Pannoniar was Ke8tner»8 thin-timbered but resolute response. « For we're going co America, old man, and we're going on the same boat with the Lamberts ! »* si PART in THE QUARTERS IN MANHATTAN TtttirT ".'T'' "'■■'-'"''■•d'^d deck deep ■D thought, iron, bdow can.o the sound of guitar, .nd n,a„doI,„s mingled with the chant of voicf On the ,„„.rteeped hatch^vering, amidships Mont^ nogrm mother, suckled their babies, top-biot^ met -n sheop-skm, played card, on the tar-sUineS can^r rail''it"thi'''hrH''' »!"PP0d and .tared do«, over the for .b.r ' 'r??"-'"^'' ""-""g. found small reason Z fT^-^l" "■"'•™™' A frown of trouble a het™e,ri'""'.''i= ^'"P -d l-'k reso utely before Keslncr's cabin door. Then he took a deep breath, knocked detenninedly sTatt:^''-''^"^^ ^''PP^" »t„ theT^J lie stood staring anxiously down at Kestner as the latter sat up i„ hi, ,,eHl,, ,^b,,|„g hj, ^.^^ Th r »a^ inT sling bidlt; "a "'""v', .l™ f.. ^ ^f^"" °f pi"!' sticking-plaster long the top of his head stood up startlingf/jrke a 90 THE HAND OF PERIL cock's comb. And the Secret Agent's face, Wilsnach noticed, was without its usual touch of colour. "You've had a great sleep," began the dolorous- eyed Wilsnach, glancing down at his watch. " I needed it," was Kestner's reply. " And that bull-headed ship's doctor made nic take a bromide." •* How are you feeling? " Wilsnach was plainly evading some sterner issue which he found it hard to approach. "Much better — but like the day after a big game ! " " That's good ! " temporised the other. " But where are we? " Kestner suddenly asked. " Eleven hours out from Palermo." Kestner settled back more comfortably on his pil- low. " And when do we get to Gib? " " We don't stop at Gibraltar westward-bound," was Wilsnach's listless answer. " You're sure? » " Positive!" Kestner emitted a sigh of relief. " That makes it all the easier for us. That means our troubles are pretty well over." Wilsnach moved uneasily about the cabin. Then he turned and met the mildly inquiring glance of his chief. " Our troubles are not over," he solemnly amended. Kestner sat up with a jerk that made him wince. Then, as though already apprehending the ill-news which had not yet been enunciated, he made an effort to pull himself together. TH HAND OF PERIL 91 " What is it? »» he quietly inquired " The Lamberts are not on this boat," was Wils- nacn s answer. Kestner maae no movement and no word escaped his iips. He was inured to those uisappointments which obtain in a caUmg where the unexpected must so often be accepted. But this, Wilsnach knew and had known all morn.ng, was not an easy pill to swallow. It spe t coniusion f ,. all their plans, if not the end of aU their hopes. It meant another .scape and another slow and toUsome gatherinflr up of ghostly clues. And ^ i snach knew, as Ktotner sat deep i„ troubled thought, that ,t was taking no little effort of the wiU to readjust consciousness to the newer situation But you saw them come aboard? " the Secret Agent finaUy asked. ''They came an hour after we did, at least Lam- bert landed and came back with a woman who wore a veU. That woman must have been Maura Lambert. In fact, I m sure it was Maura Lambert, although, of course, I couldn't get a clear look at her face. I n- bert went to his stateroom, and I watched his . ,r un .1 four o'clock in the morning. I was all ir; then, falling asleep without knowing it. I knew there was no use trying to stir you out, s< V paid a . ZngUsh tZa niornirj on both doors, the oJd man's and the girl's." « ^'^^ *° T ^^^^ interrupted Kestner. hi T "^P^^^'^^d Wilsnach; « he's merely a blockhead, and was ordered below before I could iet l^r\ .n7!l" ^^^o" locked, but both the gm and the old man were gone." 92 THE HAND OF PERIL "But when? And how?" " There were boats going back and forth all the time — they could have slipped down the accommoda- tion-ladder at any moment before daybreak. No, it wasn't that steward Some one else must have given the tip. You know these Sicilians — they all have a wireless system of their own, a crook of the arm or the shift of an eye can always mean something we can't understand. And they got the tip — wherever it came from ! " " So we are not to sail together," meditated Kest- ner. " And we can't go back," was Wilsnach's dolorous amendment. Kestner sat up again, deep in thought. Through the intricacies of that thought Wilsnach was incapa- ble of following him, for the man from the Paris Of- fice had always been content to travel behind his trail- blazing leader. " We don't want to go back ! " Kestner announced with sudden energy. " We can't go back any more than Lambert can. He can't stay in Palermo, for he knows he's been dug out of his warren there. Paris is impossible. England is out of the question. IL was headed for America, equipped for an American campaign. And to America he will go. Only, he'll ^^o hy ;i quicker route than this. Tliis southern route will take us eleven days from Gibraltar to New York. Uefore we're two days out in the Atlantic Lambert can get through Paris and land at Dover, scoot across to Fishguard, and catch the Lusitania for the other side." THE HAND OF PERU. 93 ''Provided that is their plan," agreed WiJsnach. nf ^""^ * '^^^J^'* «t"t of us ferki ^sT:"- '''''' ^ ^-'^ -th ih^^n '^"^"'^^"^ ^^"^^^'f the consolatory axiom that the Law never forgets - and he was on the side «LrL T ""^^ self-evident that offenders against that Law could not and did not forever con- ceal themselves, even with a whole continent to wan- der about in. No matter how weU under cover they rnight place themselves, there were times when they breatl^ ''^'^^^ "P *° w.!"""^ could only be sure they were headed that L lugubrious Wilsnach. f.n^ /l^: "''".t ^'^^ *° "^^^^ «"re,- con. tended the unshaken Kestner as he felt tenderly along the bandaging over his collar-bone. " And since we're not exactly clairvoyants, we'U work that wireless until its aenals wear out!" n Kestner, no longer wearing his pink cock's comb and his arm-sling, stared over the ship's rail as his liner, having slipped through Quarantine a few min- utes before sunset, crept from the Upper Bay into the narrower reaches of the North River. He stared dis- consolately at the city of his birth, depressed by that thin misery which so often returns to the traveller who remembers that he has become a man without a country. " So that's New York ! " sighed Wilsnach, close be- side him at the ship's rail. Kestner continued to look at the precipitous sky- line of the city shouldering up into the misty evening light, the incomparable outline of man's effort and as- piration. Yet he looked at it only as a hunter stares into an unbroken woodland. Somewhere in that undecipherable warren of steel and stone lurked the fugitives whom it was his duty to find. Somewhere amid that tangle and welter of life, he remembered, were Lambert and Lambert's daugh- ter. And the whole aim and object of Kestner's ex- istence, once that liner had docked, was to seek out this perilous pair and protect that undreaming city from their attacks. " And we've lost a week ! " persisted the still melan- choly-minded Wilsnach, whose thoughts had obviously followed the same line as Kestner's. 94 THE HAND OF PERU. 95 The other man took out a cigar and smaed. But we ve got a whole skin on our bodies again," he cheenly conccted. " ..nd the subtler satisfaction As he smoked at the slnp's rad, lazily watching the broken skyhne m front of him, already stippled like a snakes back with its innumerable lights, the Pan- noma s wireless operator hurried to his side. This alert-minded youth and Kestner had already transacted much confidential business together, so no word was spoken as he thrust the loose sheets into the Secret Agent's hand. Then the operator stood at the other man's side, staring for a moment at the unparalleled panorama 01 tne evening city. " When did these come?" asked Kestner as he cas- ually unfolded the slightly crumpled sheets. He did 80 without haste and with no anxiety as to the mes- sage which they might carry. Yet he saw, to his surprise, that they were in the secret code of the Department. It took him several moments to translate the first message into intelligi- bility Then he stood with an odd catch of the breath, staring down at the fluttering yellow sheet. *or tJie message read: "Local agents are completing Lambert case. Don't oomphcnte, but catch Mauretania with Wilsnach to-night for Fishguard and report promptly at Paris Office for in- struction on StiUwell pearl smuggling case." The message bore the signature of the Service head 96 THE HAND OF PERH. himself. It left Kestner inwardly disturbed. Yet, stirred as he was, he betrayed no emotion as he pon- dered the second enigmatic row of words. This second message was equally explicit. He noticed, even before fully deciphering its meaning, that it was signed by the Secretary of the Department himself. Then he went back and translated the code. "Department taken over Lambert case and round up of trio assured. Act promptly on Byrm;'s wired instruc- tions and consult mail already despatched Paris Office." Kestner stared down at the message for several seconds. His first vague feeling of frustration had already given way to a quick sense of revolt, of indig- nation at official tyranny. He felt like a player ordered ofF the field at the first innings — and ordered ofF because of Ins own unforgiveable error. He was alive to the reproof in those two messages. He saw that he had been superseded. He had crossed the Atlantic on a wild goose chase. He had travelled five thousand miles only to be sent back by a few curt words flashed over a wire and tossed across the Bay to his incoming steamer. It was the end of the game. Maura Lambert and her activities were no longer a thing of moment to him. She and her fellow conspirators had passed on to other hands. The most alluring case on which he had ever worked had been snatched from him. And the most alluring woman he had ever had occasion to shadow had suddenly been carried out of his world. And this meant that she too had come to the end of ii THE HAxND OF PERIL 97 fruTK* ^°P^d *° figure in that end. But It had been ordered otherwise. Kestner handed the fluttering sheets c.er to the patiently-waiting Wilsnach. JJ'T. °/ though it took an effort to speak as hghtlj as he -vished. Outof what? "asked Wilsnach. Read them! " was all Kcstnor said. Wilsnach frowned over the two despatches for sev- Ind T°l^\ P^" ^^"^^'^ disconsolatel/u; and 'V^/ ^'^^'^^^^ evening^ity ^:^i:^::r:^:tr'' ^^^^ ^^-'^^^^ exclaim « Thil 'v^r ^^'^^^ companion exclaim. This is Wednesday, and sh.'U sail an hour after m,dn.ght. We can't even get to a hotel." ship's rail '""'^^ * ^^^^^ '^"'^ - melages'" ' " ^^^'^^^ what are we to do? " asked Wilsnach. answer ' « " ^ steair; .J It T " ^^^^^'^^"''"^ °" that might do the Avenue and the Drive in a taxi with dinner at Dehnonico's, say, for the sake of old^W' « w ^ " Wilsnach. Well, ,t ,s one! » acknowledged Kestner. Ii in It was the theatre hour, the hour when the city flutters with solemn excitement like a bird fluttering in its bath. In that valley of light known as Broad- way motor-cars and taxi-cabs hummed and throbbed and circled up to brightly-lighted foyers and were off agam, like hungry trout in search of dusk's most ghttenng flies. Electric sky-signs flashed and shim- mered in every colour of the rainbow, street crowd, moved and gathered and moved again, lines of traflBc pulsed intermittently along the side-strccts, and over all hung that vague and misty aura of light which could crown even canyons of concrete with a wayward sense of beauty. Kestner leaned forward in his taxi seat, drinking it in with hungrily unhappy eyes. They had already explored Fifth Avenue to the lonelier reaches of the upper city, and had swung sadly down through the wooded silences of Central Park, and had wandered by way of Seventy-second Street over to Riverside Drive, and had stopped to stare pensively up at Grant's Tomb, and h-d swung down Broadway again, bewil- dered by the changes which had crept over a city altering with every altering season. And now, made doubly melancholy by the hilarity which beleaguered them from every side, they were making their way back to Fifth Avenue and their belated dinner at Delmonico*s. 98 THE HAND OF PERH. 99 Kestner stared out at the hurrying stream of faces eager and yet unelated. He continued to peer out as the taxi-cab came to a standstiU before the im- perious arm of a traffic-squad officer. He watclied the cross-section of suspended traffic which the same im- perious arm sent shuttling across their right-of-way, hke waters loosened from an opened sluice-gate. Then, in a passing car, he caught one fleeting glimpse of a woman's face. Her beauty may have seemed no more pictorial than that of a hundred faces he had already passed. Yet there was a .udden trip and skip of the pulse as he stared out at that transi- tory picture made by tlie soft pallor of an oval face *ramed against the gloom of a cab-hood. "What's up?" demanded Wilsnach as their taxi started forward with a jerk. Kestner, who had risen, did not answer him. He was already struggling with the cab-doo. and calling aloud to his driver. Then he saw it was useless. An mtervening tumult of traffic was sweeping them on, like a chip on a stream. The oval face anr:! the un- known carriage were already lost in the crowd. " What's the matter? " repeated Wilsnach, as Kest- ner dropped back in his seat. ^ For several seconds the Secret Agent's face wac ■ lank with preoccupation as they swung from Lone- acre Square into Forty-fourth Street, and went puir- ing on towards the quieter areas of Fifth \venue « Among other things," said Kestner, with the ghost of a sigh, I just remembered that I'm as hungry as a hound-pup, and here's Delmonico's ! " This acknowledgment of hunger was confirmed by 100 THE HAND OF PERIL the meal that ensued. Kestner's sense of depression seemed to have forsaken him. He became more com- municative, more interested in the people about him. Yet twice he deserted the table on the excuse of a telephone-call, and twice Wilsnach was left to listen idlj to the music and stare at the multi-coloured rai- ment of the white-shouldered women and ponder over Kestner's prolonged absence. Wilsnach knew by the other's air of abstraction as he resumed his scat that something out of the ordinary was in the air. And knowing his man, he was content to wait. But time slipped by, and still Kestner sat in a brown study. " I suppose we ought to be getting aboard that steamer," suggested Wilsnach after a listless glance at his watch. Kestner stared across the rose-shaded table at him. The music of the distant orchestra was pleasing to the ear; the cofFee had been irreproachable; and Kestner's fresh cigar was precisely his idea of what a ciirar should be. "Why?" he asked with half-humorous indolence. The lazy tone of that question made Wilsnach look up. For the latter had long since learned that when his friend was most somnolent of eye he was most alert of mind. " Because by daylight we've got to be out on the rolling deep." " Wilsnach, that's where you're wron^," quietly an- nounced the other man. " In what way.? " inquired Wilsnach, feeling, for all THE HAND OF PERIL 101 the other's quietness, the approach of something epochal. " It is quite true that within an hour we shall go aboard the Mauretania. But morning will not see us on the rolling deep ! '* "Why not?" " Because, onco aboard that liner, we shall quietly disembark from her other side — by way, I mean, of one of the lighters in the slip." *'Go on," prompted Wilsnach. Life had always been too full of surprises to let a small bouleversement like this bewilder him. " We shaU then with equal quietness proceed to a hotel. And in the morning, instead of watching the waves and betting on the day's run, I fancy we shaU both be rather busy." "At what?" ^ " At the task which has b-en engaging us for some time, Wilsnach, that of rounding up this Lambert gang." The agent from the Paris Office sat absorbing this ultimatum. " And what changed the Chief's mind? " he finally inquired. " The Chief has noi changed his mind. It merely happens that I have changed mine." " What made you?" " Remembering certain things, two of which stand out conspicuously from the others. The first is that this gang I speak of can lay claim to the most expert forger that ever handled a pen." lOa THE HAND OF PERH. "That's the woman!" " Precisely. And the second is that when Lambert took possession of my personal effects in that Paris studio, ho got, among other things, my Department pocket cipher-code." " Which would do him precious little good ! " "On the contrary, it was of sufficient value to enable liim to hurry on to Washington with the girl, pick up what he could of the Department procedure, and then have the girl forge two signatures to despatches addressed to the incoming steamer Pan- nonta. That's the situation. Those messages were made to bear every evidence of being official. The one feature missing was the fact that tliey were sent from a district office and not from the Department's own operator." " You mean they faked those two wires? '» This time Wilsnach could not dissemble his astonishment. " I do. And it strikes me as being about as bold a bit of work to head off pursuit as I ever encountered. I take off my hat to Lambert!" " B:!t are you sure, dead sure?" Kestner smiled. *' I've been talking \o both Cuddeback and the Chief hunself, on long distance. No such messages ever came out of the Department." " Then what are we to do? " « We're ^o keep after Lambert and his gang until we get them and get them riglit. We're to keep on that trail until we run the last man down." Wilsnach's perplexity did not disappear. "But it's not even a trail," he protested. "We THE HAND OF PERIL lOS know thej're in America. But America happens to be quite a sized continent." Kcstner smoked on for a meditative minute or two. It's a -mall world, Wilsnaoh, when you're trvin^r to hide m It. Do you recull timt Paris case of Elise \an Damme — how the girl's head was found in a doorway, wrapped in paper, without a single clue, except an old brass key? Our friend Hamard visited eight thousand houses, eight thousand, mind vou, and tested over fifty thousand door-locks, before he got on the trail. But in the end he found his man and unravelled that mystery." •'But we haven't even the brass key," demurred Wilsnach. "We have something better," amended his com- pamon. « We have the knowledge that Maura Lam- bert is m this city at this present moment." " What makes you say that ? " " Because we passed her in an automobile, in Long- acre Square, not three hours ago ! " " How do you know that? " " I know it because I saw her." Wilsnach sat staring at the other man. He even ventured a slightly satiric smile. "You should have every reason to re.aember her," he had the temerity to remark. What's more important, Wilsnach, we should have every reason for finding her again. And to-morrow we take up the trail." " But why wait until to-morrow? " Kcstner leaned forward across the table. " Don't you realise that we're being watched, from 104 THE HAND OF PERH. some quarter or ofhcr, rvor since wo landed from that steamer? We've been shadowed. And don't you sup- pose we'll be shadowed until we go aboard the Maure- tania to-mV^ht? That's why we're going to turn Lamberts trick on his own ^an^r and go over the side into a lighter when they iina^^inr we're safe in our cabin. This is a stage of the -ame, Wilsnach, when we've got to make good, as the j say on this side of the Water." " I'm ready," said Wilsnach, not without relish, as he sat thinking the situation over. " Then here's where we start," announced the list- less-eyed Secret Agent as he rose from the tabl« and glanced casually about. But Wilsnach, as he followed him into the open, knew that listless glance was only a mask behind which a quick brain was already at work. IV •waited KMtner'. nsit to tliat comp.rativolv obscure- had .nsUlfed him.elf „ . c.ttle-b«yer fron, the Argen- foJ^lr''''' '"^P''-"''' « "calhor, interruption, leaving the upper .treets of the citv as from the"!,; ^'r'"' ^"-i "t Ie-b»j: found httk '"u 'P'"'' '■•<"" ">= ""'her. found httle ,n »h,ch to exult. Hi., week had been a hus, enough one. But it had resulted in little bevond " ..newod acquaintance with the cit, of his Zth Offical quarters had been unofficially sounded, unsav-' oury fnends of the underworld had been duly inte J- galed, an unbroken line „f espionage had been ou , Vork I d ,' '"'7 '■''^'^ ""■•"^ "f Greater Ne'; U,l l ad been mvadcd and inspected. He hud twici ^countered Ke.tner, first a, a black-bearded L.T^ American ,n the colfee-busines,, a„d ,„ter as a nmn c"- pal water-inspector. but on neither occasion did hL ! llo„ -„ „rker have anything definite to tell him Wil where Lan,Wt and his confe.ler,*. bidden .way And again the Agent iroi,, ,l,e Paris Office fdt IhS Kestner h,d made the n.L^aU of Ins ii'e in I«pLg 106 THE HAND OF PERIL the chase a personal one, in ever letting his quarry slip in pasc the Poii authorities. So Wilsnacli showed little enthusiasm as he turned to greet his colleague, an hour late, and on this occa- sion a spare-looking figure in clericals and horn-how spectacles. He remembered that the taxi-cab trail had proved a blind one, that two days as a gas com- pany employe had brouglit in nothing, and that each different drag-net at eacli cast had come up empty. So Wilsnach stood a little resentful of the fixed optimism of the gentleman in clericals as the latter struck a match, lighted the inevitable cigar, and for the second time peered out along the empty hallway. His back was still to U'ilsnach, for he was turning the key in the lock when spoke. "Well, I've found 'em!'* was his quiet announce- ment. At those four words the gloom suddenly went out of the day. Life took on a purpose and the face of the visitor from the Argentine took on a le&s morose expression. "Where?" was his quick query. Kestner inspected the room, closed a window, and then came and sat cloie beside the other man. When he spoke, he spoke very quietly. " Like monarchs, in a brownstone mansion on Fifty- drst Street, ju.t off the Avenue." Wilsnach took a deep breath. " Posing as what? " he mquired. " Not posing at all ! Just sedately living there, the same as other people live on Fifty-first Street. They must have leased it furnished, for the season." THE HAND OF PERU. 107 " I should call that nerve." " And also good judgment. It's a fine example of mn'/°" 1 'T.. P"^'^^^ °f conspicuity. Who d ever thmk of digging out a gang of refugee counterfeiters from a rather fashionable private man- front?'" * *^°-fi«"red address and a brownstone " Then what made jou dig them out? " " It began with Inky Davis and skipped to the joung lady we knew as Cherry Dreiser. In West iorty-seventh Street, between Fifth and Sixth Avenue is a very chic little millinery shop. It is run oy a very ch^ little woman who calls herself Mdlle. Baby. At different tunes of the day some very fashionable-look- mg women go to that shop. They go, in fact, in rather surpnsmg numbers. Wasnach, can you guess ' It's a stall, as they say over here? " 'Exactly. Those plumes and Paris hats are merely a fence behind which one of the busiest of women s poolrooms is being run. They have wire connection M-itl, a distributing bureau that gives track- returns by 'phone. They also have a very comfort- able room where tea and cigarettes can be served. Here 1-bcs with too much time and money can escape the of hfe by plunging on the ponies. And one of the heaviest plungers, at the present time, happens Cher; DrX7 ''^^^ '^^^ A look of comprehension crept into Wilsnach's eyes. ^ How did you spot hor? " he inquired. ' I tailed her from the Grand Union Hotel, where ft 108 THE HAND OF PERH. she met her old friend, Inky Davis the wire-tapper. I shadowed her twice to Mdlle. Baby's. Then I got a girl planted inside, and found Sadie was a regular visitor. She lays her bets with considerable judgment. Sometimes she wins, and sometimes she loses. But she doesn't worry over losing. She doesn't need 'o. F or every bill she pays out in that poolroom is one of Maura Lambert's counterfeits! " *' But tliis doesn't sound like Lambert's procedure." " It isn't his procedure as a rule. But I suppose he's got to pay running expenses until he effects his coup. So he jumped ab the quickest and safest way of uttering his bad paper. Sadie is his layer out. She unlo.ids big denominations, breaks them and gets good mom> in return. Those counterfeits will f^ol every one until they get in expert hands at the banks, and even there they may pass muster for a while. And in the mepiitime, Sadie will move on." " But how aiiout Lambert himself? " " We may as ^^ ell remember, Wilsnach, there's no such man as Lambert. Names never count for very much in the criminal world. Our man's at present known as Hardman, a slight variation of his old alias of 'lartman. I've hew watcliing Hardman for a day anu a half, every movr h > makes in the open. He's posing as a Southerner, a ii irse breeder from Virginia with a frock-coat and a wide -brimmed black hat — you know tlie get-up! Three hc^ rs ago Morello met him in a downtown hottl. An hour later our Italian friend bought a ticket for Washi,irr+ni., and I'm having him tailed to see just what bii busmess might be in THE HAND OF PERIL 109 that citj. He's out of our reach for to-night. But there are other things we've got to take care of." " To-night?" " Yes ; to-night — for Hardman is ready to launch one of the biggest tricks ever turned by a crook. I almost respect that man ; he's Napoleonic in some ways. While Sadie Wimpol's been unloading on that uptown women's poolroom Ilardnian's been manoeuvring with Doc Kilvert's downtown establishment. And this is how he did it: Kilvert spotted that benevolent-eyed old Southerner in the frock-coat and sized him up as son;. . hing ready and waiting for a killing. Hardman even looked good enough for a variation of the old green goods p ■me, and Kilvert got busy. Hardman did some investigating on his own hook, played coy with KUvert, and then fell for the plan. Can you beat that for one of life's little ironies? — a tin-horn con- man like Kilvert trying to sell a handful of phoney money to America's most accomplished counterfeiter doing business on a Sub-Treasury basis ! " " But did he fall for it?" " To-day, when the time for delivery cami ,, "'lard- man turned on Kilvert and cuiled him down. He turned the trick so well that he took that piker's breath away. Then he took KUvert up to his room and talked real business with him." " You mean you think he did." "I know he did — part through Redney Sissons, part through our dictograph, and oart through a beU-boy stool I'd planted there. But here's the point of the whole thing: As soon as KUvert spotted that 110 THE HAND OF PERIL counterfeit paper of Ilardman's, he agreed that big things could be done witJi it. Hardnian supplied him with samples and sent him over to Pip Tarbeau's with them. Tarbeau's called the Poolroom King of this country. I don't know tvcrjtliing that took place between Tarbeau and KilvLrt, after tliat Toolroom King had sent out for a microscope and a second grv> u- goods expert. But that paper made him ready to deal with Hardman, who claims the money is coming to him in job lots from Sicily, through a lemon-im- porter named Bastedo. And that deal means that to-night Tarbeau is going to take over exactly one half mtllion dollars in Hardman bank-notes! " " I don't get the point," admitted Wilsnach, after a moment of thought. " It's this, Wilsnach ; one hundred thousand of that half million is going to be placed in this city ; another hundred thousand goes to Chicago; another hundred thousand to New Orleans ; still another hundred thou- sand to San Francisco; and the remaining hundred thousand is to be split between Charleston and Denver. That money's going to be held by Tarbeau's operators until a release date. Then it's going to be let loose through the paying-tellers of those different pool- ; oms. In other words, Wilsnach, a half million dol- lars m bad money is going to be suddenly exploded on the country. They can get it out the same as Sadie impel has been getting hers out. It wiU pass muster with those poolroom patrons. It will spread like a sort of scarlet-fever into commercial circles. Then the coup will be repeated, and the second half million will make it an epidemic. By the time some bank expert THE HAND OF PERIL lU has spotted the stuff and the general warning goes out, the whole currency of the country will be infected with that bad paucr, and nine people out of ten won't even know whether it's bad or good ! " Wilsnach's eyes rested on Kestner as the figure in clericals took out a second cigar, lighted it, and then looked at his watch. " My God, what a coup! " finally gasped the man from the Paris OfSce. " You see what it means — weVe got to jump in and stop that half million from getting out. They've got their own tailers. I made sure of that yesterday, when I called a messenger and gave him a sealed en- velope to deliver, for a decoy. That messenger was waylaid and my message was opened and read. That shows you we've got to do some side-stepping. We've got to get that counterfeit paper; and we've got to get Ilardman or T.ambert, or whatever you want to call him. Then we've got to get Maura Lambert and gather m the Wimpel woman, and be ready and wait- ing for MoreUo when he dodges back from Washinc- ton ! " ^ " But what's the plan?" "It's this: Lambert will leave that Fifty-first Street house to-night at nine o'clock sharp. He'll carry the money in a black club bag, and he'll be alone. He'll take a taxi-cab to Dirlam's Casino on upper Broadway, just north of One Hundred and First Street. And you will be driving that taxi-cab " "Will I.?" inquired Wilsnach. " That'll be all fixed, for unless we get him on the wing we can't land him without police help — and this 11« THE HAND OF PERIL is our case." Kestncr crossed quickly to the window and glanced out. "Look at that rain. You'll be rubber-c )ated up to the ears and he doesn't dream of jour chauffeur days in that old Poirrct picture-smu^ ^rling case. You'll drive him up to Dirlani's to meJt Tarbeau and Kilvert in a private room there. He may tell you to strike up Broadway and stick to the white lights. But you've got to go by way of Central Park, and then swing in to the drinking-fountain be- tween the north end of the Mall and the West Seventy- second Street entrance. We'll cover that route in a taxi, as soon as we get out of here, to make sure of our lay-out. But to-night, once you get Lambert as far as that fountain, you've got to stall there. Make it engine-trouble, or anything you like. But hold him there^unta I get my chance to get into that taxicab. Here's a gun and a pair of handcuffs. It's ten to one you won't need to use either of them, but we've got to guard against a tailer coming up and interfering. These two extra pair of culFs I'll keep for myself, for later in the evening." Wilsnach watched him as he slipped the pair of polished double rings back in his pocket. " Remember," repeated Kestner, « that I'll attend to Lambert. All you've got to do is to hold any one off from interfering, and get under way again, once I'm sure of my man." " Under way for where? " " Down the West Drive of the Park to Columbus Circle, droppmg me and the club bag as soon as I can pick up another Uxi. There'll be a feder .1 tailer with the Department pass-word waiting at the Maine Monu- THE HAND OF PERIL 118 ment there. Then get Lambert down to the Forty- seventh Street police station as quick as jou can. The Lieutenant thtre is fixed; he'll hold him on a Sullivan Law charge until he's needed.*' " Then where will you be? " "I'll be back investigating that Fiftj-flrst Street house, gathering in the girl, and getting hold of all the plates and paper I can find there." " How about Sadie Wimpel.? " ** Sadie still believes in clairvoyants and is to have a reading at nine to-niglit with a IMadame Musetta, who, oddly enough, also gives sucker-tips for Inky Davis and his gang. At nine-thirty a federal agent will interrupt that reading and tell Sadie sometliing more definite about her future. In the meantime, you've got to get back to that Lambert house with your taxi. You're waiting for a fare there. But lie low, and keep tab on anybody who enters the house. If I don't appear in thirty minutes' time, get inside as soon as you can. But give me at least thirty minutes." Wilsnach crossed the room and then confronted Kestner again. "But isn't all this taking chances.?" he protested. " Why couldn't we sail up to the Fifty-first Street house with a few plain clothes men, break down the door, and gather up our people?" " In the first place, -we wouldn't be doing the gather- ing. That would fall to the City police. And I'm not aching to hand over a case I've already travelled five thousand miles for. To be candid, this case has grown into rather a personal matter with me." But while ive'rc landing Lanihoi t vvhy couldn't the 114 THE HAND OF PERIL police look after the woman and pass her over to the federal officers later on ? " " Because I want to get that woman mjself," was Kestner*s answer. I' Why? " Wilsnach pointedly inquired. " As I've already said, for personal reasons," was Kestncr's retort as he looked at his watch again and got up from his chair. " Don't you think that in things like this the per- sonal equation sometimes comes rather expensive?" Wilsnach asked, watching the other man as he took the receiver down from the wall-phone beside him. Kestner, with the receiver at his ear, did not turn about to face Wilsnach as he answered him. " The personal equation is the only thing that makes work like this worth while," was his quiet-toned retort. At precisely nine o'clock a tall and benignant look- ing figure, made more stately by the loose folds of a black raincoat, stepped from a door in Fifty-first Street, not a hundred yards from Fifth Avenue, and peered carefully eastward and then as carefully west- ward. On his head he wore a broad-brimmed black hat and in his right hand he carried a black club bag. He stepped quickly down to the street, where a taxi- cab stood waiting. He crossed to the curb, stooping against the heavy slant of rain that swept down from the east. The taxi-driver, huddled back out of the drip from his cab-hood, nodded a head half-buried in a ater-proof helmet, blithely said " Yep " to a second question from the new-comer, and speeded up his engine. The man with the club bag again looked up and down the street, directed the driver to hurry him to Dirlam's Casino by way of Fifty-ninth Street and Broadway, and then stepped into the cab and slammed the door after him. It was an inclement night for an excursion in even a closed carriage. The cross-street stood as empty as a drained flume-way, the pooled asphalt throwing up scattered reflections of the lonely city lamps. The floor of Fifth Avenue, washed as clean as a ballroom and shimmering like a mirror, undulated mistily north- 116 THE HAND OF PERH. ward. It was a canyon of silence along which tlie only sound was the periodic clatter of non-skid chains and the throb of an occasional motor-engine. New \ ork stood like a city suddenly depopulated by some vast cataclysm. The benignant looking Southerner in the black rain- coat pounded sharply on the cab-front when his driver, apparently forgetful of instructions, jolted over the 1-ifty-ninth Street car-trucks and swerved to the right through the Park entrance beside the Sherman Statue. " I said by way of Broadway," he peremptorily called out. r r j But the speeding car kept on its way, the driver ap- parently oblivious of the fact that he was beini? ad- dressed. His angry fare flung open the cab door, thrust one foot out on the running board, and for a second time shouted for liis driver to swing about. But still the car continued on its way. The benignant looking Southerner thereupon reached about with one long arm and pounded on the body of that insensate driver. There was nothing for tliat driver to do but slow down, stare stupidly about and demand what was wrong. But the car stiU crept slowly northward. "Where are you goin', anyway.?" demanded the driver, making note of tlie fact that they had already reached the lower end of tli<.^ :\rall. You know where I urn going and you know the wav I told you to go," proclaimed the man in the black ram-coat. « What fell's the use of circlin' the Island to get to THE HAND OF PERIL II7 Dirlam's?" he expostulated. "I'm takin' you the shortest way up, ain't I? ' " CJct out of this Park," shouted back his fare with an unreasonable show of anger. But the car was stiU crawhng forward. "Then I'll cut out through the Seventy-second street gate," announced the man on the driving-seat as },e speeded up again. He had *he inward satisfac- tion of liearing tiie taxi-door shim sluit. Ho took a turn at high speed to the west, tried to correct what appeared a mistake, turned again, skidded, and came up with a bump against the stone base of a large drink- uig-fountain. Tlie cab-door opened again as the driver emerged from under his water-proof apron. He found himself assailed bj an oath of an^er which seemed quite out of keeping with that benignant looking figure in black "What is it this time?" "Engine's gone dead," was the gloomy response. He walked to the front of the car and began to crank. Then he stood up, with a gesture of helplessness, staring about as though looking for some quarter from which help might miraculously come. But they seemed alone in a world of driving rain. Then the driver stepped about to the side of the car, placing one hand against the partly opened door, for he saw that his fare had taken up the black bag and was about to step out. " You know anything about engines.' " he demanded, blocking the other's way. He made a pretence of doing this unconsciously. But the other man had grown suddenly suspicious. 118 THE HAND OF PERIL "Look here," said the man in tho car, twisting angrily about so that he faced the driver through the cab-door, if you try any That was as far as the tall Southerner got. For out of the dripping shrul,bery n third fhnm- had emerged, had slopped up to the n.nning board, and had opened the opposite door of the cab. And the next moment a cn.oked arm was thrown tightly about Hardman's neck and the cab wa. thumping and rock- ing with the tumult of the sudden stru.r.l, The driver did not even wait to detennine the out- come of that encounter. He ran to the front of his car cranked h,s engine, and climbed into his seat. He could stdl feel the cab rock and jolt with the fury of the struggle going on inside. From that narrow Vttle arena he could hear short gasps and grunts which warned him that the fight was not as one-sided as it had pronused to be. And by the light of a nearby Park Ia„,p ^ ^j^^j^ approaching them .ae great waterproofed figure of a p.IIcen , He knew that this officer's curiosity had beei aroused. So he dropped his revolver back in his pocket and speeded up h.s engme, knowing the racing machinery uLir "^-^ '^-^^-^ Then Wil.nach's heart came up in his throat, for above the other noises rang out the quick report of a pistol-shot At the same time a bullet tore its way out through the roof of the cab-hood. Then came a IZT ''J.r"" ^''"''"'^ threshing aDout, and then comparative silence. Wilsnach, pedalling his accelerator, still let h:3 THE HAND Of PERUi 119 motor flutter, uncertain as to how to act He dare not swing about to investigate, for the approacW officer was already within forty feet of him, and he folt the possible need of that officer if things had al- ready gone against them. Then tht iR xt moment his ear caught the rattle of the dropped door-glass. At the same time that the huge-bodied officer in th. Iripping raincoat drew up on the other side of the .,tain Kestner's head ap- peared through the open mdow. Between his lips he held a freshly lighted cigar — which served to explain the small cloud of smoke drifting thinly out from under the cab-hood. "Driver, what the devil's the matter with that engine of yours? »» promptly demanded the man with the cigar. "She's all right now — she was only back firin' that time," cheerily announced Wilsnach as he let in his clutch and got under way. The waterproofed officer stood watching them. He stood there immobile, without spep'dng, the car-lamps refracting from his wet oil-skins in a hundred scatter- ing high-lights. He stood there, ominous, colossal, heavily impassive, as the taxicab made its turn and swung so close to him that he could have reached out and touched its hood. Wilsnach held his breath, wondering if he was to be stopped or not, knowing better than to turn and look back. Then he breathed again, for they had already taken the turn to the west and no word had been spoken. It was Kestner's voice that came to him, cahn, and 120 THE HAND OF PERU. reassuring, through the open cab-door as they swung down into the West Drive. " I had to knock him out with the butt of his gun. Slow down a little until I go through his pockets." WilMiach crawled forward until Kestner suddenly commanded him to stop. " There's an empty taxi. I'll catch that, and cut across to the Avenue." He was out on the running- Ifoard by this time, with the black bag in his hand, hailing the passing taxicab. Tlx n he turned back to Wilsnach. " Your man's still down and out in there. Pick up that federal tailer at the Circle and get to the Forty-seventh Street station as fast as you can. Then make for the Lambert house. We're behind time, and this is just the beginning of our niriit's work!" * Vx It was twelve minutes la.cr tliat Kestner stepped from his taxi-cab in front of the Union Chib, paid his driver, and efFected a careful scrutiny of Fifty-first Street before passing in through the ponderous doors of the Club itself. His visit within those doors, however, was a brief one. Having made reasonably sure that he was not shadowed, he crossed Fifth Avenue and made his way westward along Fifty-first Street, facing the steady downpour which still deluged the city. Then he went quietly up a wide flight of brownstone house-steps, as quietly inserting in the door lock one of the keys which he had taken from Lambert's pocket. He opened the door without appreciable sound, sidling quickly in and as quickly closing the heavy door behind him. Then he stood motionless in the unlighted entrance hall, with every sense alert, silently appraising the situation which lay before him. He knew that he was on delicate ground, with a delicate task ahead of him. And he did not care to make a nvis-step. He stood there with ears strained, peering through the unbroken gloom. At one moment he thought he heard a sound somewhere in the undecipherable depths of the house. But he could not be sure of this Yet 121 122 THE HAND OF PERIL he waited again, remembering that time was a matter of importance to him. And as he stood there he was oppressed by the consciousness that his method was as odious as liis mission. But he knew that now there could be neither hesitation nor compromise. He was in the fight, and it had to be fought out. His first task, once he felt the way was clear, was to get rid of his dripping raincoat and watersoaked hat These he took ofF. Then groping about for the club bag which he had carried in with him, he moved silently forward, feeling his way as he went. The rubbers which he wore on his feet, he knew, would make his advance a noiseless one. He found a door to the left, standing partly open, and groped his way through it, disturbed by the fact that he was leaving a trail of water-drops after him as he moved. Even in this inner room he did not risk a light. But when his groping fingers came in contact with what proved to be bevel-fronted cabinet on heavily carved legs, he pushed hat, coat, and club bag w^ll m under tliis piece of furniture. Then he turned about and made his way deeper into the house. So far, he felt, luck had been with him. And luck was no insignificant feature in work such as his, where a turn of the hand brought a contingency that had not been counted on or a peril that had been unappre- hended. Yet he had laid his plans carefully, and so far nothing had gone amiss. He drew up, suddenly, subconsciously warned of a condition that was not normal, vaguely disconcerted by something which for a moment he could not define. Then the truth of the matter came home to him." THE HAND OF PERIL l«3 He could feel a faint current of cooler air blowing against his face. And as lie crept on, from somewhere in front of him, he could hear the steady patter of falling raindrops. That meant, he felt, that a door or window was open at the back of the house. And it was a conclu- sion which did not add to liis sense of comfort. But he could not artord to leave it unexplained. He groped his way on, veering througli an open door and threading his way about furniture, until he had traversed the full length of the house. And in front of him, as he had feared, he found an open window and the rain blowing against a gently-flapping curtain- end. He studiously explored the sash of this window. A little tingle of apprehension went through him as he did so, for his inquisitively caressing fingers told him how a segment, large enough to admit a man's hanu, had been cut out of an inner window pane corner Tt had obviously been scratched with a diamond chip, tapped sharply until the crack followed the line of the scratch, and then lifted away with a suction-cap. A hand had been reached in and unlocked the window. And It was ten to one that the owner of that hand was still in the house where Kestner stood. It was the practised work of the practised house-breaker and porch-chmber, and Kestner knew just what to expect irom such gentry . His first move was to lift his revolver from its none too convenient hip-pocket and drop it into the right- hand pocket of his coat. Then he stood listening again, strainmg his eyes through the darkness, dis- 124) THE HAND OF PERH. turbed by tlie thought that plans so careful'y laid could be so gratuitously disrupted by a factor on which he had failed to count. He moved towards tlie front of the house arf.iin, following the wall as he wont, a\ itli his riglit hand close to his side, ready for action. He paused when he reached the hall, pondering what his next step should be. Then lie crouched back, with every muscle tense, for there came to his ear the sudden and distinct sound of a key being fitted into the door that opened from the street. Ho had no time to turn and find a hiding place. The door had already opened and a figure was stepping in. Then the door was heard to close again, shutting out the sound of the beating rain. As Kestner stood with his back to the wall and his revolver in his hand, ho could detect a newer small odour, the odour of rainsoakcd garments on a warm body. He knew that the man was standing there, not five paces from him, listening as intently as he him- self was listening. He could hear the faint drip of the water from the wet coat. He could even catch the sound of the other's breathing. The next moment, too, he could hear the subdued movement of feet as that newcomer advanced deeper into the house. He could hear a sleeve-button as it tapped against the newel-post at the foot of the stairway, while a hand groped through the darkness for the banister. Kestnor could have reached out and touched the hesitating figure as it stood there. But he crouched back, ready for the worst, hoping against hope that THE HAND OF PERIL 125 the light would not be switched on. The next sound that came to him was a sigh, and then the faint stir and rustle of cloth. Kestner knew the man was taking off his wet overcoat and haniriu;. it across the hanister- rail. On it, he knew, that tlie man was next balancing Ins ramsoaked hat. Then the steps went slowly and stealthily up the stairway. Kestner waited until they took the turn at the head of the stairs. Then he reached over and examined +'ie wet hat, gauging its dimensions with his distended fingers, sniffing at it as a hound might. Then he felt quickly through the dripping raincoat, attempting to verify the disquieting suspicion that the newcomer was indeed Morello. J3ut the avercoat held nothing to confirm this fear. Kestner no longer hesitated. He felt his way about the lewel-post, creeping up the stairs as quietly as tJie man who had preceded him. Looking up, at the first turn, he was able to make out a faint glimmer of light falling across the well of the stainvay on the floor still one flight above him. So he crept on, his rubber-soled feet deadening the sound of his steps. He drew up, suddenly, as liis head reached the level of this second floor, for blocked out against the oblong of light in a partly opened door he could see the figure of the newcomer. And it took no second glance to tell him that it was indeed -Alorello — Morello who by that hour should have been well on his way to Washington. Something suspended and guarded in the pose of that figure told Kestner that within the lighted room was a third person, and that the movements of this third person were being watched by Morello. And me THE HAND OF PERIL Kestner felt reasonably sure that this third person could be no one but Maura Lambert. He had scarcely time to digest this discovery before ho became aware of the fuct that Mon llo himself had suddenly and noiselessly sidled in throuffl, th. partly opened door. Kestner waited, breathless, for some cry of alarm at that sudden invasion, or for at least the quick give and take of angry voices. But no sound came to him. He waited for a moment or two and then the sus- pense became more than he cared to endure. He crept up the rest of the stairway and circled about to the partly opened door. Then he stooped forward and peered into the room. In front of a dressing-table surmounted by a three- paneUed mirror he could plainly see Maura Lambert. She was seated there in the fuU light of the two electric- globes on either side of her mirror. She wore a loose- sleeved dressing-gown of rose-coloured silk, open at the throat. Her hair was down, and in her right hand she held a sUver-backed brush. She was not, at the mo- ment, making use of this brush. She was lepning for- ward a little, staring absently into the middle panel of her looking-glass. Kestner could see both the clear-cut profile and the reflected image of her in the mirror. He could see the ivory whiteness of the rounded throat, the shimmer of the heavy cascade of loosened hair, the soft line of one relaxed arm, almost vhitc against the rose-colour of her gown. And more than ever before a wayward im- pression of her sheer physical beauty swept'over him. It was the first time he had ever seen her in a moment THE HAND OF PERIL of impassivity, quite off lier guard, with that touch of wistfulness which comes to humanity when alone with its own thouglits. He could detect a look of vague trouble about the idly staring eyes, a sense of want about the slightly parted lips, o iistlessness about the droop of the forward-bent body hooded by its cascade of dull chestnut. But Kestner gave little thought to this. For he had made the further discovery that Morello himself stood in that room, within six feet of the door. And the man peering through this door realised why Morello's ad- vent had as yet remained undiscovered by the girl in front of the mirror. A few steps inside the door stood a panel-screen of rose and gold, and behind this screen Morello still crouched. There seemed something intent and animal-like in his pose, and at the same time something childlike and ludicrous. Kestner could not analyse this mixed im- pression. He had scarcely time to make note of it, for at that moment he heard a sudden gasp from the woman in front of the mirror, and he knew she must have discovered she was being watched. 1- VII ^ The roso-olad woman in hunt of tii ■ ;lressing-tal)li' did not scream out. Slic did not even swing about in her fragile-looking chair of cream and gold. Sho sat, leaning r. little forward, staring past her own image in the niirrc*. Her face had lost the last of its colour. Iler arms, Kestner could now see, were stippled with a faint mot- tling of colour. The droop of the torso was eloquent of suddenly diverted attention. It was plain that she had caught sight of the head about the screen-top. Then her prepossession seemed to return to her, for she suddenly rose from her chair and faced the other side of the room. It was at the same moment that Morello, nettled by the discovery of liis spying attitude, stepped into the open.^ The two strangely divergent figures stood con- fronting each other for several seconds of unbroken silence. Then the woman spoke. "What are you doing here?" she demanded, her voice clear and reed-hke but a little tense with its angry challenge. "I came back!" Morello spoke quietly, almost humbly. "Why?" " I came back," he rep. '..ted, " for ijqu! " He held out his two hands as he spoke, with a gesture 128 THE HAND OF PERIL l«9 that was characteristically Latin, as exotic as the intonation of the English which he spoke almost with- out acrcn t. liut Kcstncr noticed that the outstretched hands wcro slinking a little. " Tony," demanded the woman again, more sharply this time, " what does this mean? '» He took a st-p nearer to her before he spoke again. Jxfstner could ,!ttect a growing tenseness in that strange and huartJiy figure. He could see an animal- like radiance in the seal-brown eyes. Malignancy was not the note of that passionate figure. It seemed more one of tragic misery. " I can not wait — I can not ! " Morello half-whis- pered, closing the fingers of his outstretched hands and then drawing his arms quickly back until the closed fists smote on his breast. It was an eloquent gesture ; unconsciously it made the watching Kestner think of a grand-opera hero: its one redemption was its sincerity. "You were to meet Fonaro in Washington," the woman said with a sharp note of reproof. " No, that was useless. I have been shadowed. 1 was followed. I saw it was no good. So I turned back." She stood studying him. " Then you were followed here," she cried. He shook his head. " That was impossible," he replied, with his eyes always fixed on her face. Nothing is impossible, with things as they are » " she quickly warned him. " It is impossible," he repeated. " And you knew I was alone? " 130 THE HAND OF PERIL ♦k" admitted, with ihv i.nplorinff hands again thnjst out towards her. " I knew, and I camo tnurh T q^i'^l'iy by this time and a touch of colour had come to either cheek « Then you must go! " was her .summiry comniand. 1 he .Neapolitan stood with his head bowed « I can not » he said with almost a moan. Maura Lambert took a step nearer him and was about o speak when the telephone-bell on the dressing- table shrdlcd out a sudden alann. She crossed to the h^hZ T;!" "'PP'"^ bell with f1 i? . «f listening, poured a quick torrent of French mto the phone and then sat listening again, interrupting with an intent monosyllable or two. MoreUo o° Fath^i'*'" " ^^l^^^^y- " There's been trouble. They stiuck lum and took everything. He pretended to be unconscious until the chance came, then he pipped out of the cab and got away in Ihe Park Fe 8 just sent wor.^ to Cherry and Fontana ! " She pressed her ..ands against her side with a gesture of despair, oblivious for the moment of Morello and ins presence. " It's the same thing over again - the same thing over! " "It wUl always be the same thing over, now" Morello reminded her. * "We can't stay here," she said, still oblivious of w^Hng °' «^es " You will have to come with me," he said. THE HAxND OF PERIL 151 "With your" she demanded, staring at liim with slowly awakening eyes. "And where wiU J go with you ? " " I do not care — so long as you come," was his passionate declaration. " Didn't I tell you there was to be no more of this? " she demanded, fixing,' him with a gaze as cold as glacial ice. But he seemed conscious of only one compulsion, swept by only one e-iiotion. " / love you! " he suddenly cried out, the words seem- ing to erupt from a volcano that could not be con- trolled. It startled Kcstncr a little to see that the tears were streaming down the Neapolitan's fare, that his body was shaking with the passion that swept it. Yet the girl turned studiously about and placed the Silver-backed hair-brush on her dressing table. Then she stepped quietly over to where he stood, facing him fearlessly, with a brow still slig itly wrinkled in thought. She opened her lips to speak. But Morelio drowned her first words in his suddenly repeated cry of " / love you! " He lifted his two hands quaveringly, one on each side of her uncovered arms. They came tc Tether and touched Uie bare flesh. Then with a sob he seized her. His arms went about her slender body, crushing it and drawing it in against his own. He held her, writhing and twisting, until there seemed something antediluvial and barbaric iu their struggles, in the woman's cloud of tangled and tossing hair, in her gasping cry that was shut off by Morello's mouth closing over her own. 1S« THE HAND OF PERII, Ihl^' Kostncr could sta„.l ii „„ longer. lie Ml that h,, moment had o„„,e, and l.c „,nd„ „.„dv for \<.-t 1.0 du not spring into the room. Kvoiy le„,c ^'"'"'-'^ quick thought the had taken on a „„, «,„l ,,„».. unexpected Spect The door ju,t bejond tl„. s. ,„ „ of rose and"^"' d qu.ckly opened and a third ,i«ure h.,d .udd. nlf L ',1 1.0 room It at once reminded Ke.tner of IW- open d o..di«teriot:;i;n.;.,::::„f-^:i;^ weak and vc.ou. n,„uth. .„,d on,, too plainl, w^U'w." There .a,, a cat-like quickness m hi» movement as he struck at Morello. Well di,.ecle,l a, that b W wa, he Neapohtan d.d not go ,io„„. He ,t„sgere Hln- ' ..s arms up, and swung about. He wasi..op i .l , h.s revolver when the second blow came Th ! man ,.th the bill,-, comprehending the motmel came another blow, at the base of Ma. k„i| Ta Morello went down ,ike a stockyard steer, wi'th'out a The rat-browod vielnr dropped on one knee beside wTt'h at P"-"''"" "f t''' revo^v r wha? Z7^"IZ laTrt °^ J uiere was m the unconscious man's THE HAND OF PERIL 1S8 pockets. Tlion he turned tfie van(juished iiuin over, pushing him towards the head of tiu .tairs. One final shove, as the inert figure balanct-d there, sent Morello rolling down the wide stairway. A moment later the conqueror li.ul darted hack into the room. "Git into that corner!" Kestner could hoar him cry out. The cry brought Kestner back to the door- way, with his own revoi\er in his hand. " Git back there, quick! " barivcd the housebreaker, acccntuatiri-^ the comm.Kn! wit', m oath. Then he stood, squint-eyed in front of her, staring at the white column of her throat, at the torn 1 ront of her dressing-gown, a Jie quick rise and fa" f her bosom. No wonder th' guinn. v fell f'r yu. said with a contemplative hark of a iauirh. " What do you want.^ " she asked, pure terror in her voice by this time. " Wat do I want ? " repeated the man with the re- volver. " First t'ing I want some o' tlie money that's rottin' round this hou> Then I want "—He broke off with a raucous and niirthJess cackle of a laugh. " There*s no money here.** " No nioru \ : he mot ked. " Not a cent t* play th' ponies wit', day after day, J s'pos( ? Honey-bird, I got me tip strain' it, an' I'm goin' to git ine haul." She struggled to aclii( e an appearance of calmness. But her hand was shaking as she looked at the watch hanging by its slciider gold chain from her neck. Unless you get that haul in five minutes there will be other people in this house ! " The man's response to that threat was both quick and decisive. 13* THE HAND OF PERIL «Gi' ine that timepiece ! " She hesitated, with her eyes meeting his. He swuni? out a hand caught the watch, and with a quickTerk broke tlio chain from her neck mand'^r ^^'^ She turned to the dressing-table, the man with the revolver stepp<. after her. He stood directi; b hLd her with his head thrust forward like the headTa fighting-cock, following every move she made Kestner could wait no longer. He had suffered too much through the interference of others ; and time he knew, was terribly precious. * His rubbers made his footsteps noiselesfl as he elided mto the room. When he sprang for the man wifh revolver it was with a down-sweep of two outstre^h^ That impact, from a quarter so unexpected, not only sent the man staggering forward, but struck the poised sTddl;^" "^"'^^^^ ^^^^P^^ floorward, ^ sudden finger pressure on the trigger exDlodinr^ rZ chamber as they fell. But Kestnerfgri; ottt^other man was well placed and that other man's arms were pmioned close to his side as the two of them wenTdo^ 1 he woman swv.^g about with a sound, half-casD and half-scream, at the struggle so close to kr Thl? struggle was still going on as she suddenly ran for ward stooped down, and wrenched the JarfroL the clutch of the overtaxed burglar. Then shTJcZ away, conscious that she was mistress of the s tuation Kestner heard her sharp call of command to h m But he Ignored it, for his fighting blood was up and his THE HAND OP PERH. 135 rat-browed adversary trad betrayed a desire to close his teeth on Kestner's thumb. The woman repeated the command, more sharply, but still the fight went on. When it was over and Kestner stooped, panting, with one knee on the other man's chest, that other man showed a saidly battered face and a much subdued spirit. On the whole, Kest- ner grimly remembered, it had been an evening of un- commonly active pugilism. " Stand up," Maura Lambert was commanding him as he stopped to wipe the sweat from his eyes. Her face disturbed him. Never before had he seen it wear a look sO steely. There was something ominous in her very calmness. Stand up ! " she repeated with the revolver cover- ing him. Kestner slowly and reluctantly rose to his feet. As the other man made an effort to raise himself the woman stepped back quickly. " Don't move," she called out to this other man, her voice now breaking shrill with tension, "or FU kill you!" Then she turned back to Keptner. " You have a revolver," she said. " Where is it? " Kestner did not ansAver her, for at that moment still another figure stepped into the room. It was the fig- ure of a young woman in a sodden-plumed hat and a dripping cravenette coat. And it took only a glance at that pert young face to see that the newcomer was Sadie Wimpel. " Hully gee," was her slightly breathless cry as her gaze swept the room, " this sure looks like somethin' doin* here too ! " 186 THE HAND OF PERIL Mrur^r^\*'^J^'] '"""'^ commanded Wn"'''" j"'^^'^, girl- She stepped over to Kestner and proceeded to « frisk » him The other woman commanded the burglar to get to his feet. Pipe the cop ! '' exclaimed Cherry as she lifted the pi^krVhef f ^"^^^1^^ pocket Then she glanced disdainfully at the rat- browed burglar whom the other woman had backed up beside Kestner. " An' who's th' high-brow? she non^ chalantly enquired as she went on with her search Ihen she stopped, listening. She ran across the roo^ and out into the hall, leaning over the banis for a moment or *wo. Her jocularity had departed when she returned to the room. aeparted Th'^P^fK r ^^^'^ good! IJiat's the Governer's sigral'" Are you sure? " asked the other woman. fT , j"'^ "P Tony an' the bag full o' paper an' this guy's overcoat? An' ain't he sendm' me up here to give you th' tip before th' Ibe closes m on us?" "«ore tn ime « Then what can we do with this man? " asked the woman w,th the revolver. Her eyes met Kestner's' then she looked away. ' 'j Keep 'em covered an' I'll fix that," announced the &rl as she ran over to where Kostner stood, caught hun by the coat-sleeve and quickly snapped a paTr 1 his own handcuffs over his wrists. She'did the am with the smaller man beside him. Only before «h! snapped the last cuff on that soiled and sknny w^^^^^ THE HAND OF PERH. 187 she suddenly linked his free hand through Kestner's locked arms. Tliis left the incongruous pair linked together, arm in arm. Then the girl ran to the stair- head for a second time. " F'r th' love o' Mike, get a move on ! " she called impatiently back. . . , And when Wilsnach arrived, twelve minutes later, he found Kestner sitting on the bedroom window-sill, morosely chewing on an un- lighted cigar and linked to an even more morose-look- ing burglar with a brow like a rat! And Wilsnach knew that for the third time they had failed. -1 - I. Kestnee waited until the chamber-maid had fin- ished putting his newly acquired room to rights. He waited still another moment or two until he heard the click of her pass-key in a room farther down the hall. Then he locked the door with its safety -latch, opened his suit-case and from it lifted out a coil of insulated wire, a dry-cell little bigger than a cigarette case, and a telephonic helmet made up of a band of spring-steel with two small watch-case receivers at- tached to its ends. Then he went to the window, opened it, and from an awning hook on the outside un- wound the loose ends of two insulated wires. These he drew in over the sill, shutting the window down on them and carefully connecting them with the ends of wire which he had taken from his suit-case. Having drawn down the window-blinds, he switched on the electric lights, swung an arm chair about, so that his back would be to the electrolier, and placed on the table beside him a pile of morning papers and a copy of the " Isle of Penguins." He next adjusted the helmet to his head, fitting the microphones over his ears. He seated himself in his chair, with one knee crooked leisurely over the leather- covered arm. Thereupon he took out a cigar, lighted it, and lay back iu his chair calmly and contentedly 1^ 142 THE HAND OF PERIL perusing one of the morning papers which he had picked up from the table beside him. Kestner had not read more than a quarter of a col- umn before he let the paper drop in his lap, and sat listening, with his head a little on one side. Thinly but distinctly, along the thread of silk-covered copper which connected the receiver at his ear with the dicto- phone transmitter concealed behind the window-cur- tains m tlie room below, came the sound of a piano. Kestner, as he continued to listen, recognised the air. It was Rubinstein's Barcarole, and it was beini? ex- tremely well played. The piano-music continued, stopped, and began again. Then still again it stopped. Kestner, as he dropped his paper, caught the distinct and unmistak- able sound of a door being closed. Then came the sound of voices, thin but clear, over that connecting thread of copper. And with the opening words, Kestner knew it was Cherry Dreiser aitas Sadie Wimpel alias Fuggy Mason who was speak- ing. « How»s that for stealin* a base? » demanded the pert and slightly nasal voice of the shover for the Lambert counterfeiters. Her inquiry was followed by a chuckle of satisfaction. "Are you sure you weren't noticed?" It was Maura Lambert's voice that sounded next, deeper and fuUer-notcd than the other woman's. "Dead sure! I beat it up to the seventh floor; then I walked down three. An' when I meets a floor- skirt on the stairs I brush by with a Chilcoot stare Uiat leaves her frozen to the marble! " THE HAND OF PERIL 148 " But why have you kept us waiting and worrying so long? " asked the more solemn voice. "Ain't a girl like mc gotta look out for herself? Ain't I hep to what's goin' to happen to this gang? " " Nothing can happen to this gang, Sadie, so long as we stick together! " was the answer. "Can't it? With that sleepy-eyed slooth fr'm over the water doggin' us cv'ry step we take ! Oh, I see the Gov'nor's finish, an' I sec it close ! Why, I can^t^ slide into a pool-room an' lay a bet without havin* some one lookin' over me shoulder an* countin* me change! An' this shadow business is sure givin' me the Willies ! Doggone it, I want somethin' I can freeze onto, this time. I've always been fooled. That Count dub I married in Monte Carlo turned out to be a bank-sneak. That Hinkle man I loved like a father was notning but a maU-pouch thief lookin' for a capper. That American photographer who wanted me to hit the state-fair circuits with him had cooked up a panel-game so's I could go through a haytosser's clothes while he took his photograph in a cow-boy rig-out! They was grafters, dearie, ev'ry last one o' them, an' I was hungerin* for a Harlem flat and the simple life ! " "Then what do you intend to do?" asked the deeper voice, none too sympathetically. *' Why, I inten' to cotton to that bunch o' rhino an' make hay while tlie sun shines! D'ye get me? I've got a cherub-faced old guy from Saginaw, who's made a million out o' Michigan lumber an' never learnt how to spend it. I'm going to kindergarten him into the tnck o' movin' through the white lights! I'm goin' 144 THE HAND OF PERIL to mason-jar this sucked orange stuff an' freeze onto that old guy. I'm sick o' bein» a dip an' capper and livin' like a street cat ! " *' And then what? " " I'm thinkin' some of starrin', if things come my way. An' that old geezer is certainly crazy about me. He's got dropsy, an' a face like a Dutch cheese, but he's just famishin' for a female whoTl be half-way decent to him an' tote him aroun' to the Broadway shows an' help him with his pinochle on rainy nights! A girl's always got a better chance with an old guy like that. They kind o' git grateful. So I'm goin' to kick in when the kickin's easy ! " " Cherry, you can't do a thing like this ! I couldb't believe it of you ! " The other girl laughed. " Wait until you see me steam down the White Lane dolled up like a Longacre Squab ! That'll be better'n gettin' chased off the map by a bunch o' federal flat- ties, I guess. Why, I gotta do it, to save me neck ! I've been sufferin' from chronic cold feet ever since this gink Kestner landed on us ! I ain't got the nerve to break a plugged nickel for a postage-stamp with- out gettin' a chill wonderin' who's goin' to spring on me with the wrist irons ! An' once they get your fin- ger-prints down at headquarters, what chanct has a girl got? You can slide across the pond, an' black- snake round the Loov an' take in early mass at the Madeleine. But I can't get away with that foreign stuff. First place, I git balled up on the languidge. Then I get so homesick I could fall on the neck of ev'ry Cook's tourist that buys American white-wear THE HAND OF PERIL 145 i at the Gallerie Lafayette ! An» Vm canned for Monte Carlo, after that badger coup with old Novikoff!** " Then what do jou intend to do? " "Me? Why, I'm goin' to sour on this crime ? uff an' reform. Do what I've been tellin' you — have a nice old Uncle Updyke an' an electric runabout an* start studvin' for the stage. No, dearie, this ain't no repentance act I'm puttin' over. But I've got the winter to think of. An' I'm tired o' being chased across the map by ev'ry low-brow slooth who owns a nickel lodge-pin. I wanta rest. I'm dead sick o' needle-pumpers an' hop-nuts an' crooks an' dips and con guys. An' I'm dead sick o' the Gov'nor an' his day-dream about makin' eighty million o' counterfeit an' gettin' away with it! It can't be done, dearie. It can't! An' take a little tip from Sadie, an' beat it while the goin's good ! " "And what could I gain by that? " was the quiet- toned and half-indignant inquiry of the other woman. "You'd get over bavin' heart-failure ev'ry time you hear a bell ring! HuUy gee, woman, don't you know that shovin' the queer is a felony in this country an' good for fifteen years with hard labour? D'you expect me to keep me beauty an' hav" a thing like that to brood over? It's too wearin'l An' if I was in your place, with your looks> I'd sure tie a tin can to that nutty parent o' yours! I'd get a smooth talker an' go into s .>.'ban real estate or open a swell httle bucket-shop down in the Wall Street distric'!" " Cherry, you're talking nonsense, and you know it ! " reproved the fuller-toned voice. " No, I ain't. An' I mean it. It don't take me a 146 THE HAND OF PERIL year to cra.K wise to a fightin' chance. You're a boob to .tick to n nut who hasn't a show in the runnin'. He .n had an' you know it. An' that guinney Mo- rellos as bughouse as the Gov'n.,r hisself. He'll hang tlie Indmn s-gn on you. An' when them dagoef git to makm lov, , . w.nt somotf.in' > back up again., so I won't g.t a :.,Mfe ,n the back for stalhn' h.u off when his zoom' Kng , n s .orkin' over. Ime! They ain't safe, doane! ' J. , ,o stuck on . ou he'd ffle his way into Sing S ..^ v sent vou un!" " Cherry yoi .. . no. celling ,ue the truth about Jiat lumberman from Saginaw ! " " So help me Alike. I. uric, I got that old pineland fossd so he'll eat onf o" ,.y hand! An' I hrLe into that house o'bs just off the > ' :,. r A' nooH^'f the Clover Club quick before I pass away! Why all I gotta do IS dust the cigar ashes off th»t ol' gu 's vest-front an' f. cd the gold-fish! " ' " And what is this going to 1. . f ,>? " „ s th. other woman s question. « What do you expec ^o get out " I expec' to git took care of," was the deliberate to hold my head up when I walk mi . Winter Gardrr first niglit and show them lobster-palace broads ^-hnt open! '''" " ''^P^ -^^^ "And you intend to blac nail thaf idir v.,, qI^j man, the same as you blackmailed XoviK )ff » ' Have a heart, woman, have a hea t " i,,oke in the other voice. «Pve r^tr so mu^ h a. lifted a THE HAND t PERIL 147 bar^^ n that lier you make your haul it will I ain't goin' to nri't goin' to have n ek that oP geezei n goin* to make thi n' crab a nickel oV 7 marry me, ' do a of his ; free will! " •* Xix t out^ loot n' 't' OO n van baoh up to :e <.■• faith in ni Not n ^ home n o noti 'roil ^; n. rn • n Theee was sUence for a few moments before the deeper-toned voice of Maura Lambert spoke again. You are going to make this man marry you? " she repeated with a note of incredulity. « Sure," was Cherry's airy reply. " Is that any worse than bein' a shover for a run-down gang that dasen t stick a head out o' the shell without havin' a federal slooth starin' it in the eye? " • federal s'euth will be out of the serv- ice before we are much older," was Maura Lambert's reply. "Well, I can't live on promises. Pve got my chance with Uncle Updyke, an' I'm goin' to take it. An he s no piker. Why, the first thing he does is to stow a bond-safe in under the stairs as big as a niovin' van. I am't the rubberin' kind, but I would like to know how much junk he's got in that strong-box o' his An that ol' guy's got a Japanese valet who can talk m seven diffVent languidges ! An' mo still wres- tim with stage-English an' goin' to the mat with the broad A s ! '* " Sadie, why should a Mackinaw lumberman have a valet who can speak se.en different languages? »» de- manded Maura Lambert. "Dearie, dont worry about Uncle Updyke I'm .he doTm an' outer in this^deal; an' that's why I got THE HAND OF PERIL 149 you on the wire this momin'. You gotta help me out. i ou gotta (lope nic out some phoney paper from me Mother-Superior! I know you hate doin' that pen work, but I gotta have soniethin' to chncli me past, ^ou gotta forge me a couple o' family charts to steer by ! " ^ A moment's silence ensued in that strange conversa- tion. Then Maura Lambert spoke again. ** Sadie, where did you meet this man? " /*Ju8* a minute," reprimanded the other woman. I wantta put you gerry to my name, from now on. Psix on the Sadie an' the Puggy an' the Wimpel. I've canned that low-brow monacker. After this I'm Fran- cine Florette. Get so you won't be gun-shy to that. An rememh.r I'm a movie actress temp'ry laid off with water on the knee. An' I've got the knee to show for it. Francine Florette, remember, educated at Ann Arbor an' from an ol' southern ^amily that lost everythin* in the Galveston flood. As for that Uncle Updyke of mine, I met him through Madam De Mar- tinette. She's that astrologist off Herald Square, the fleshy dame who gets fifteen a crack at the crystal, an' fifty for a full readin'. I grubstaked her to tip the old boy off, so things would faU easier for me! An' now he thinks the stars got together an» kind of wished me on him an' calls it Kismet an' spiels about me bein' the reincarnation .f his first rag buried out m Kickapoo. How's that for finesse? I guess poor ol» Uncle Updyke's been stung by so many female grafters makin' a straight head-dive for his dough, he's got to dreamin' I'm an angel from above, jut* because I never once squeal for a rake-off! " 160 THE HAND OF PERIL " And stffl I don't see what you expect out of all ttmf was the somewhat scornful conclusion of the other woman. "As I said before, I'm goin' to make that ol' ffuV marry me. Then I'll have him nailed for life' If he has the nerve to renig on the splice, I'll cinch him in the only way that's left. I'll clean him out, the first chanct hat comes. I'll shove! up ev'ry sou and ev'rv " And what good will that do you? " « It'll do me as much good as bein' shover for a note-prmter who's goin' to be cornered before he can cry quits ! " There was a pause before eitlier spoke again. I almost think you're right," finally admitted Maura Lambert. « I'm beginning to believe he triU be cornered m the end. I feel that we're cornered now. that nothing IS safe any more. I always have the im- pre«,on of being watched. I know I was shadowed to the door of tius hotel this morning. And I know it will never be safe for me here! " " Then what're you goin' to do about it? » was the unsympathetic inquiry. "You came here to ask for help. But there's one thing in which I've got to ask you /or help." "What's that?" " Wait a minute." catch the sound of any movement, though he felt sure that one of them must have risen and crossed the room THE HAND OF PERU, 151 " What's the dope? » the voice of Francine Florette finally inquired. "I want you to take care of these," the other woman explained. "It's not safe for me to keep them any longer. And you would never be suspected of having them ! " " But once more, lady, what's the dope? »» " It's the eight plates that we must keep, whatever happens. They've been taken off the blocks and wrapped m strips of one of my silk underskirts. That IS so they can't mar or scratch. Then I've sewn them up m this piece of chamois. That makes them into a small parcel." The other girl whistled. " You're not goin» to hand that hardware over to me? " she demanded. up"'»'^^ to somebody, untU things clear ** But what can I do with it? '» « Simply keep it where it's safe until I come for it, or send for it." "But s'posin' that ol' guy got gerry to me bein» mixed up with a bunch o' paper-pushers? It'd queer me for life. He thinks I'm only ten months out of a private school ! " 2 It won't be the plates that wiU enli^ten himl »» "But s'posin' they shadow me?" •* Nobody saw you come here, and nobody need see you go away. It's not the first time you've taken car- . them. And tliey are more important than yo.. ■ gmaw millionaire." 152 THE HAND OF PERIL Not to me ! " amended the other. "Thpy may be, when you find your miUionaire out ! ' was Maura Lambert's none too sympathetic reply, " Aw, don't knock me only life-buoy ! " There was a moment of sUenre. « An' if I wet-nurse those plates, do I get that phoney paper about me famUy-tree? " " How soon do you want it ? " ** The sooner, the better, dearie ! " « Then when you hand these plates back to me in three days' time, I'll do what I can for you about the family papers ! " *u " ^ ''^"^ '■"P''' '"ash-notes jus' to show the old geezer he ain't the only pebble ! An' I'll stow that hardware where a truffle-hound couldn't nose it out! " There was still another period of silence. " They'll go in your muff, you see," said the other more carefully modulated voice, " and no one wiU be any the wiser! " "Sure," was the abstracted reply. Then came a vague movement or two about the room, and the same voice speaking again. « There's me house number, an me phone, if anything turns up. But be sure to ask for Francme, dearie, Francine Florette," in Kestxkb did not wait for more. He did not even take time to stow away his dry-cell and his dictophone ^ires. He merely dropped them beside the back wall of the room, pushed an arm chair over the litter to hide It from the casual eye, and made a dive for his hat and coat. He was through the door and down the corridor before the elevator boy who had stopped at his floor could slam shut the iron griU and continue his down- ward liight. By the time Kestner had reached the street, he had quite recovered his breath and composure, assured of the fact that the woman he wanted had not preceded h.m. So ae lighted a cigar and stood back in the shel- ter of the carriage starter's box. His wait was not a long one. His first impression, as he watched Sadie Wimpel alms Francme Florette step to her waiting taxicab door, was that the lady in question so.med very debo- n^ur as to manner and very resplendent as to attire. His next impression, as she turned to give a word of direction to her driver, was that she was a valuable woman fo.. the work she had elected to follow, a woman ot quick w,t and pert manners, touched with both au- dacity and the love of avent on swinging h,- m^t-stick Once she was past that swinging ^^I t: rounded the comer, s' quicken., .or pace, crossed rn It Vn'"* ^"'^ " ^^''-^^ ^" "'^k welt again, rounded stdl another corner, and slipped quictlyTnto the famdy entrance of a corner saloon, . i,ore, ha Z sought ,ut the telephone, she expeditiou,! .humed 162 THE HAND OP PERH. Thens h«ving retired to the one dingy chambre sepa- ree which that dingy caravansary offered, and hav- ing made sure a certain chamois-covered package was still in place, she ordered a silver fizz and a package of Turkish cigarettes. *' Gee," she confided to the shirt-sleeved Hibernian who proceeded to supply her wants, " but I'm sure gapin* at the gills for a smoke! ** It was five minutes later that Kcstner and a patrol- man, giving up their house-search, returned to the open street. There they met nothing to revive their failing hopes of a round-up. " Tim," said the patrolman to the officer still swings ing his night-stick, " you dead sure nobody got by you here.? » * Divil a sowl," was Tim*s answer. « Nothin' in petticoats — beyant a young slip of a gerrl wid a laundry-bag ! " "A what? " demanded Kestner, " A kitchen-gerrl wid a twisted face and a mug full av chewin' gum — a kid widout a hat! »* The patrolman, unconscious of Kestner*s little groan of disgust, turned contemplatively to the Secret Agent. " I guess we'd better work to the east. If your woman's in that block, the sooner we dig her out, the better!" Kestner laughed — but quite without mirth. The woman's gone," he called back, as he strode toward the waiting taxi-cab. " She marie her get- away with that Jaundi v-bag. And here's where I have to begin all over again ! '* To begin all over again was a predicament which not infrequently occurred in Kcstner's profession. It involved, as a rule, work that was neither romantic nor engaging. But he was compelled to accept it as part of the game. And in the end, out of the hum- drum greyness of the commonplace arose the pillaring flame of the unexpected. So it was with heightened spirits that Kestner slipped into a street-corner drug-store and for the third time in three hours called up his hotel and got Wilsnach on the wire. " What have you picked up? " was Kestner's quick but casual demand. " Not a thing," was the answer over the wire. "And nothing has happened?" "Nothing but two solid hours of Chopin noc- turnes," was the plaintively disgusted reply. « And a neck-ache from wearing this helmet ! " "And you can got nothing now?" " Not a sound — the lady, doubtless, having gone to bed." "And not a caller, or a phone-call to the room? " " Not one. I couldn't have missed it ! " "Good! I was afraid Sadie Wimpel might double back with those plates. Hut Sadie knows her busi- 10.-) 164 THE HAND OF PERIL ness. And that means I'll want your help at my end of the line.'* " What have you rounded up? " « I've rounded up that Saginaw man's house! " " How? " _ "It took over two hours of camassing, first rent- ing agencies and later the employment bureaus. I knew he'd have to have a servant or two. They sent him up a hutler two days ago. And I'm shadowing that butler at the present moment." "Why the butler?" "Because he began his new job by showing he's a flat-looter looking for larger fields. He's just un- loaded a bundle of silverware on a Sixth Avenue pawn- shop, and I've got him across the street at Tierney's drinking com whiskey and cursing the Japanese." " Then what do you want me to do? " Wilsnach in- quired, " Let the dictophone go for to-night and get Byrnes on the wire. Have him hurry a city force man up to Tienieys — one he can trust. I want that butler held down at headquarters until some time to-morrow. Bui mres the important point: that man's got the pass-key to the house. I want that key before he gets out of Tierney's ! " " " All right ! Anything else ? " " In an hour's time I want you to be covering that lioiise Make a not. of the street and number . . . And ,f Sacl.e Wimpel is there, those Lambert plates are there with her." "Supposing she shows up, do I kt her go in?" Kestner pondered this qu( stion for a minute or two. THE HAND OF PEBU. 166 "Let her or anybody else go in. But don't let anybody coming out get past you. Be sure of that. Don't Icl any man or woman get away from that house. And if anything suspicious shows up when I'm inside, join me as soon as you can." " I understand." " But hurry that Byrnes' man up here. I'm pretty sure our butler is heeled. That gives us a chance to frisk him. And he's just drunk enough to be ugly. I want the pass-key without his knowing I'm get- ting it." " I'll explain that to Byrnes. And 111 be up at that housp in one hour." "All right, Wilsnach. This may be a busy night for both of us." "Good!" paid Wilsnach as he hung up the r^ ceivor, for this piano-recital busineii has its draw- backs ! " VI It was less than an hour later when Kestner turned casually in at the Indiana sandstone front of a cheaply ornato house not far from Fifth Avenue, glanced up at its heavily curtained windows, and slipped a pass-key into the lock. Then he swung open the vestibule door, a weighty combination of plate-glass faced by a grill-work of wrought iron and backed by a panel curtain of brocaded red silk. He did this calmly and quietly, yet he breathed a little easier when once he had found the entire front of the house was in dark- ness. Once inside, he came to a stop and took out his pocket flash-light. Then he stood for a minute or two, listening intently, with that abnonnal nervous perceptivity which is common to the hunted and fre- quently acquired by the hunUr. Once assured by those over-sensitised aural nerves that he was momen- tarily safe from interruptions, !u proceeded to explore his immediate surroundings. He did this cautiously, probing with lus narrow light-shaft into the gloom as delicately as a cook*s broom-straw probes a rising cake. Bcfor.' hh.., he saw a wide hallway. The back of this hallv.ay nas bisected by a proportionately broad stairway, inountiiig some eighteen or twenty wide steps to a landing. From this landing it branched 166 THE HAND OF PERIL 167 right and left to the floor above. At the back of the landing stood a huge grandfather's clock, and on ped- estals at either side of it were two suits of what looked like fifteenth-century armour. The polished metal of these two suits, as obviouslj^ factorj-made as the clock, threw back Kestner's interrogative dash in scat- tered pencils of light. Brief as that survey of the place was, it proved sufficient to convey to the trespasser a conviction of the general shoddiness of its grandeur. From the rug on which ho stood to the indirect-lighting alabaster- basin, suspended on gilded links, it impressed Kestner as being shoddy, as being meretricious in its splen- dours. He did not wait, however, to cogitate long over this impression. He made his way straight to the stairs, circled about to the right, and i'.:.der a velour por- tiere found a pair of doors, stained to look like ma- hogany. These doors were locked. A minute or two with his "spider," however, soon had them open. And he was rewarded by the sight of the steel front of the bond-safe he had expected there. So without more ado, he pushed back the pine doors flat against the wall, shut off his pocket flashlight, and let the velour drapery faU into place behind him. There, with his straining ear against the japanned steel surface, he set to work on the safe combination. He worked for a quarter of an hour, quite without success. Then he changed his position, dropped on his knee again, and once more took up the contest be- tween a mechanism of obdurate steel wards and dials, on the one hand, and a long-trained and supersensi- i 1«8 THE HAND OF PERH. tised ear on the other. But a half hour had slipped away before he had conquered the combination. He sighed with relief as the plungers slid back, in response to his pressure on the nickclled handle. He rose to his feet, swung open the heavy door, and again switched on his flash-light. Then he proceeded to search the safe. The contents of that carefully concealed vault were eminently disappointing. There were a number of guide-books and passports and railway-maps, reveal- ing the innocent fact that the gentleman from Saginaw was a surprisingly extensive and an apparently un- wearied traveller. There was a canvas bag of French gold, and a few hundred dollars in American yellow- backs. Under these was a plate of etched steel, such as might be used for an exceptionally large business card. There were also a package or two of letters, banded and sealed, and a larger package of unmounted photographs, carefully tied together and as carefully sealed where the yellow . tape-ends had been knotted together. The one thing tiiat caught and held Kestner*8 at- tention was a despatch-box of metal covered with an outer case of worn pig-skin. He drew this to the front of the safe, turning it over and over and flasli- ing his light interrogatively about it. It was locked, and his " spider " was too large to be of use. He hesitated for a moment, hut only for a moment. Then he caught up the plate of etched f^teel, held the box under his knee, and worked tlio e.l^'e of tl„. pJatc between the box and its lid. Thin he pried with all his force. That force was sufficient to make the lock- THE HAND OF PERIL 169 A moment later he bar yield and let the lid fall back, was going through the contents. The first thing on which his wavcri.i^ pencil of hVht toldcd to the size of a legal envelope, and each backed hs sevcja pages of typ..vritten matter and enigmatic roHs of hgures interspersed with s.nall .l.^^ the nature of wbch the nmn with the riushl^.ht had no tjme o determine. But what impressed L, e^n n IL ^"'--'J, was the care and neatness wi^ On the back of each, he also discovered, stood a ,„e- thod call, pe.med descriptive-title, and he stoop d ook a fuller breath, as though an unlooked-for shock had imposed on hi.n the necessity of some prompt m^n tal readjustment. For the docun.ents into wh ch he had peered at haphazard were labelled as follows M. w:t::;!!i^f ^''-^ ^^p*) s.u^u.^t. Barry, Fort. Cal ^ Kestner would have read more, for that list most ;-'^^'v appealed to his professional curiosi y Bu tl-e chanc . to ddve deeper into the package, he saw was suddenly lost to h:,„. His first ^nstiSf^UvI' ment was to quench l.is tiash-iight. His next to 1 1' 'f 170 THE HAND OF PERH. crowd close in under the velour hanging and stand there holding his breath. There had come to him the distinct sound of a door opening and closing again, the iall of quick steps along the floor, the rustle of drapery, and the tap of hurrying heels on the polished hardwood treads of the stairway. A moment later he heard the snap of a switch. He could tell, even from his hiding-place, that the upper hall had been lighted. Kestner waited a moment and then slipped quietly out from under his covering. He crept forward to the foot of the stairway, keeping close to the shadowy wainscoting. Then he peered up the stairs, to where the light shone strongost. There, in front of the great old-fashioned grand- father's clock, he saw Sadie Wimpel. She hnd swung open the clock-door and had dropped on one knee be- fore the large time-piece. Kestner could see her as she reached carefully into the clock, with one hand, and he knew that she had either just concealt cl something in t))Ht untoward hiding-place or had just taken some- thing from it. Kestner watched her as she rose to her feet, dusted her finger-tips by brusliing them li^tly together, and then carefully closed the clock-door. Then >he looked quickly to the right and the left, to where the divided stairway led to the floor above. Apparently satisfied that she had been quite unobserved from that quarter, she stepped fonvard and turned out the light at the wall-switch on the landing. Kestner stood listening as she made her y on up the stairs and deeper into the house. He hen 1 a door open and close and the sound of steps and another THE HAND OF PERIL 171 door boin^ opened. Then came the sound of voices h,„ and farawa,, from an inner roo., the IZT^ \i J^"^*'' answering more guttural lauirf, and then the soft thud of a doling dool^^again. Kcstner tiptoed back to the safe, closed the steel door, restored the imitation velour drapery to it, moZ "•^,^*^f*«^ -"^'--^b- up the ^airs. He moved quietly but quickJy. taking the turn to the unn r ^'^ to a stop uUer darkness, a httle puzzled as to which way to pro- As he stood there in doubt, he heard the thin sound of voices agam Then he still another discov en. For several seconds he had remained stationary puzzled by the faint aroma which filled the darS about him, assailing his memory with some ghostly assocation whach eluded explanation. Then^ of a «udde„. It came home to him. That indeterminate re- jn.ndor o the past arose from nothing more nor ie.^ than a Huss.nn cgarc-tte. It was a fragrance that took hxm at a bo.md back to Nerskii Prospekt and tL and Moscow and the coffee-houses of Kher,on on those August n.gl s when certain Asiatic fortress-pkns had hvvn lost and in the end found again h.r»^'' ^^"-^ ^"'^"S * ^'g'^'-^tte which had been bought and made in Russia. And the thin and exotic odour of that tobacco suddenly stirred him beyond reason, disturbed him more than he would have been w,ll,ng to acknou lodge. a«ve He stepped gropingly toward the door from which d « I : I 178 THE HAND OF PERIL till sound of iiiaifled voices still camp. But he could hear nothing ciearly. So he crept stiJl closer, until his body was against the door-frame itself. He was ahont to n-ach out a cnatioiis ' .md and grasp the door-knoll wlun iie bccaiiir Middtnly and tinglingly aware that he was no longer standing in darkness. The electrics had been switched on behind him. That discovery brought him wheeling about as though he had been shot He finiud himself, even as his hand umt to his hip, standing face to face with a straight bodied and youthful-looking Japanese in a service coat. This was the valet, Kestner surmised, of whom Sadie Wimpel had spoken. And here, he further surmised, was a- prttty a kettle of fish as a man could stumble into! " You wish to see ? " — the iuiperturbed voice in- quired in excellent and most crisply enunciated Eng- lish. He spoke very quietly, without surprise and without apprehension, with a fortitude that seemed reptilious in its casual jntentness. The two strangely divergent figures stood facing each other, studying each other in silent appraisal. Kestner stared at the immobile Oriental face; the oblique aloe-like eyes stared back at the scrutinising Secret Agent. Odd as those two figures were, they had one thing in common. Each man bore the conscious- ness of having achieved an area of authority; each man, in his own way, was plainly not unused to power. So that combative stare lasted for several seconds, and from it neither emerged in 'iny way a victor. But to the silence there had to be ar < ':d. THE HAND OF PEKIL 173 " I wi«h to Me your master,** was Kestner»s final re- sponse. "For what purpose? " inquired the crisp and tac- itly challenging voice. "On confidential business," was Kestner's reply. He was pondering just what pretext would appear the most reasonable. " But the nature, please, of that business? " was the uncompromising query. "Are you a servant here?»» demanded Kestner, in his heaviest note of authority. " The business, please? " repeated the Oriental, pro- longing the ultimate; sibilant into a strangely snake- like warning Iiiss. " A servant here, a butler, has been stealing from this house. I have just arrested him." The studious slant eyes did not move from Kest- ner's face. "You are, please, an officer?" " Naturally — and some time before morning I'd like to see your master," Again there was that silent, combative stare of ap- praisal and counter-appraisal and then a chair was pushed forward., " Wait, plea.'e ! " Kistner bowed and stepped over to the chair, but he did not drop into it. IK. saw tlie slim-bodied serv- ant cross to the door, tap the panel with his knuckles, and step inside, closing the door after him. Kcstiur wa-i used to thinkinir quickly, but here was a dilemma where an immediate decision seemed im- MICROCOPY RESOLUTION TEST CHART (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 21 ^ .APPLIED IIVMGE Inc -.-'e '.^A -I'k 1*.609 U^A ?'6) '•82 - 0300 - Phone 174 THE HAND OF PERH. possible. His first impulse was to follow that wise- eyed young Jap through the door and have it out, face to face with the Saginaw lumberman who smoked Russian cigarettes. For Kestner's plans had mis- carried. Appearances, he had to confess, were dole- fully against him. Yet, nothing, his next thought was, could be gained by waiting. He stood up, looked about, and then sat down again. For the portiere at the far end of the room had sud- denly lifted. Through the doorway where this por- tiere hung stepped a young woman. And that young woman was Sadie Wimpel. She carried a tray on which stood a small chafing- dish and an electric coffee j>ercolator. Several seconds elapsed before she actually saw Kestner. Then she came to a standstill, stooping forward a little with the weight of the tray. Her eyes slowly widened and then narrowed again, like camera lenses controlled by an invisible bulb. " For the love o' Mike ! " she said, very quietly and very slowly. Kestner himself did not move. He sat watching the young woman as she placed the tray on the end of a table, still staring back at him all the while. Then she lifted a puzzled hand and milked the pink lobe of her ear between a meditative thumb and forefinger. " For the love o* Mike ! " she slowly and somewhat lugubriously repeated. Kestner decided to take the bull by the horns. The situation was too full of menace for delay. '* Sadie^" he said, as he took a step or two nearer her, " this is one of the big moments of your life ! '* THE HAND OF PERIL 176 " Yes, it looks it ! " was her mocking retort. " It looks it, with iiie last chance queered ! " " You never had a chance here," he told her. " And it won't be long before you find that out." " So you're gay-cattin' for me now ! " she derided. Kestner, ignoring her scorn, stepped still nearer, for tlic door had opened and the Japanese valet was step- ping out through it. "Whatever happens in there, forget we're enemies. Give me five minutes with that man and you'll under- stand. Wait, that's all I want you to do ! " She did not answer him, for the valet was already close to them. "Come, please," he said with his crisp intonation and his punctiliously polite forward bend of the body. And Kestner, wary and watchful, for all his heavy- lidded smile of indifference, crossed to the open door and stepped into the other room. VI Kestxer, as lie stepped into that second room, found himself confronting a figure which at first .^ight re- minded him of a rubicund and weather-beaten old robin. This figure sat in a wing-chair, at the end of a heavy oak table. Its ample paunch was covered by a cherry-cfiloured dressing-gown of quilted silk. It had a patriarchal polished dome, and a ruffled fringe of greyish-blonde hair. It also had round and innocent- looking amber-cf loured eyes. A terrace of fleshy dewlaps took the place of a chin, and added to the blithe inanity, the cherubic other-worldliness, of the figure's general expression. The man in the wing-chair, at first sight, seemed querulously invertebrate, a pathetic and foolish figure without guile and without purpose in life. Kestner could not help remembering how good a mask that misleading air of vague imbecUity must have proved m the past. It was a pose, and nothing more. For even as he sat there blinking up with his watery-look- mg amber eyes, it was plain that he was not altogether off his guard. The newcomer noticed that one hand rested in the partly-opened table drawer, as though arrested in that position in search for a paper. But those unseen fingers, Kestner felt sure, held something which in no way resembled paper. ** We meet again, m'sieu, after many years ! " said THE HAND OF PERIL 177 the Secret Agent, as he calmly surveyed the figure in the cherry-coloured gown. It was not so antique a figure as it made a pretence of being. " You have the advantage of me, young man ! '* piped up the thin and querulous voice, reviving Kest- ner's impression of the weather-beaten robin. " I know it ! " was the other's quiet-toned response. "We've never met before," sharply contended the thin-noted voice. " On the contrary, Baron Piozzo, we — " "My name's Nittner, Updyke Nittner! You're mixing me with somebody else ! " " Possibly with Gibraltar Breitmann, who was inter- ested in the Algiceras map-robbery," was Kestner's gentle suggestion. " My home's in Saginaw, Michigan ! " "And your business is lumbering.''" " It is ! And what is yours in this house? " Kestner noticed that Sadie Wimpel had followed him into the room. " I'll answer that when you tell me who this woman is!" " That woman's my niece." " Are you.' " demanded Kestner, turning to the girl. " Sure," was her solemn response. The rotund and robin-like figure hopped out of its wing-chair with a celerity that was startling, and a change of colour that tended to add to its rubicund appearance. Then he clapped his two hands sharply together. The Japanese servant appeared at once in the door- way. 178 THE HAND OF PERIL "Miyako! Put on the lights. Then open the front door for this gentleman ! And open it wide ! " He was no longer a ludicrous and watery-eyed in- vertebrate ; he was a quick-witted and hornet-like figure hot with the fires of a vast indignation. He swung about and faced the quietly smiling Kestner. ** Have you anything more to say.? " "Just one thing," said Kestner, addressing himself to the girl at the end of the oak table. " And that is, my dear, to warn you that you've hitched your wagon to a star thv . never came out of the Saginaw valley ! Your uncle is Wallaby Sam, who eleven years ago came out of an Australian penal colony and as Gustav KorfF stole war-secrets for certain German military attaches. Three years later, a Baron Piozzo was arrested at Boden, a wedish fortification on the Russian frontier, for selling military maps to Petrograd agents. That Baron was your uncle here ! Two years later he was rounded up in Budapest, at the same game, only this time he was operating with a woman he had especially trained for that work. And if you stay with him you'll do more than brush the cigar-ashes off his vest- front and feed v" e gold-fish, because he wants you for one thing, and only one thing. Inside of two months he'll have you gay-catting for him, the same as he had that Polish countess who didn't happen to be born in Saginaw, Michigan ! '* Kestner, as he paused for breath, fell back a step or two, until he stood in the open door. " And I guess that's about all ! " The hornet-like figure was no longer looking at him. The man in the cherry-coloured gown had turned THE HAND OF PERH; 179 toward the girl, and over that cherubic and chinless face a brick-red colour, apoplectic in intensity, had slowly spread. He became suddenly significant and impressive in his rage. " This is your doing ! " he cried out as he advanced on the wide-eyed girl, who fell back before hirn, step by step. But it was more bewilderment than fear that caused this retreat. " Mine? What t* hell have I doner " was her bel- ligerent djmand. The robin-like figure was now all but majestic in its rage. " Done? " Words seemed beyond him. "Yes, what have I done, you double-faced old cut-up?" " What have you done? You've — " He suddenly stopped, for from the front of the house came a cry that sounded strangely like a cry of warning, or a cry for help. Kestner, at the same moment that he surmised Wilsnach had got thrt gh the front door and encountered the Jap, saw the cherry-clad figure wheel suddenly about and run for the door at the far end of the room. He himself dodged out through the doorway in which he stood and ran for the head of the stairs. On the landing below him he saw Wilsnach and the Japanese valet writhing together, face down on the hardwood boards. Kestner could not decipher the nature of the valet's hold on his colleague. It seemed, at that first fleeting glance, a hold inextricably compli- cated and yet absurdly powerful. Even before Kestner realised the need for inter- 180 THE HAND OF PERIL ference, even before he could descend his wing of the stairway, he saw the figure in the cherry- coloured drcssuig-gown catapult down the wirj that led 'rom the opposite side of the wide hallway. He knew then tK . t it was no longer a time for hesitation. Throwing oft his coat, he took the stairs at a bound. They seemed to come together, those four contending figures, as though dra- to one spot by a magnet They came together or . landing like kernels thrown into a hopper, like .^tending acids poured into a test-tube. Kestner was conscious only of the fact that he ai 1 the startlingly robust figure with the cherubic face had come together, had locked arms ar ?gs and were engaged in an Adamitic struggle for supremacy. He knew, m a vague way, thr.t the other struggling couple were involved with them, that a third hand was clawing at his face and hair, that a power which he found it hard to resist was straining itself to force him back and roll him down the wide stairway to the floor below. He scarcely knew, as he fought for anchorage, that he had caught at the clock-base. There was no mental regis- tration of the fact that a rustling figure had slipped down to the landing, switched out the light, and groped her way onward down through the darkness to the street. He had a vague mcniorv of the huge clock coming over, and bringing witli it the two suits of fac- tory-made armour. There was the crash of glass, the release of weights and springs, the tumult of contend- ing plates of steel, an intermingling clangour of brass and cliains and splintering wood and shouting throats as the great clock and the suits of rattling steel and THE HAND OF PERIL 181 the four bewildcringly involved human beings went rolling and cascading down that wide stairway to the hall floor below. Then came gasps and calls and spasmodic move- ments, a thick grunt or two of satisfaction, a final stir amid the sliattered glass and clock entrails, and then nothing but the sound of quickly taken breaths. " WUsnach ! *' called Kestner, with his knees planted firmly on a rotund and heaving chest. But still for several seconds there was silence. " It's all right ! " finally answered Wilsnach, a little thickly. "I've got him! Dam' 'im, he's taken the count ! " " Can you switch on the lights ^here? " " Yes." There was the sound of crunching glass, a clang of metal being struck by a shoe, and the next moment the newel-post lights flashed up. " Where's Sadie? " asked Kestner, staring a little dazedly about the ruins, and realising for the first time, that he was cut and scratched and streaked with blood. " I heard her get past us on the stairs ! " acknowl- edged Wilsnach. Kestner did not hear hini. " Call up headquarters," he said. " But what's the game? " demanded the bewildered Wilsnach. Kestner laughed as he wiped the blood from his face. " Oh, we were trailing a rabbit and rounded up a hyena ! " was his answer. " That's all ! " -J VII It was three days later that Kestner talked with the Department at Washington. " That V =i good work rounding up Wallaby Sam," said the chief's voice ove r the wire. " But what we want is that Lambert woman." " It will take time," announced Kestner. " I don't care what it takes," said the voice on the thread of steel that brought the oar of Manhattan leaning close to the Hps of Washington. " We've got to gather her in. Casey reports another Indian Head ten from your district ! " " That Indian Head ten never came from the Lam- bert gang," protested Kestner. « I talked it over with Casey and put Wilsnach on the case. It's the work of a Williamsburg Italian named Carlesi, cheap photo- engraving with brush-work colouring and hand shad- ing. And Wilsnach ought to have Carlesi rounded up before midnight." " But you know what it means to us, havmg this woman and her old man running loose ! " " They're still loose, of course, but they'd never do cheap work like Carlosi's. You can always be sure of that. If they break bad paper, they break it big!" " Precisely ! And that's why we've got to get them and get them quick. That First Colonial Hunared was one of the neatest counterfeits that ever went 182 iff THE HAND OF PERIL 18S under the glass. And three bankd had O.K'd it before it was turned in ! " " I'll do my best,** answered Kestner, " but you'll have to let me do it my own way." " It's your case," assented the Chief's voice. It was at tlie same moment that Kestner meditatively hung up the receiver that a knock sounded on his door. He crossed the room and peered into his fan-light pro- jecting-mirror with its minute camera obscura attach- ment (an invention of his own) and saw that his caller was nothing more than a messenger-boy in uniform. Before he could turn the key and open tJie door, how- ever, the knock was repeatiMl. Kestner eyed that boy keenly as he stepped inside. The occupant of the room even yawned and stretched himself, with an air of indifference, but made his scrutiny still more searching. For the sealed envelope which he stared down at bore Kestner's own name, to say nothing of this new address of his which he had supposed unknown to the rest of the world. He signed for the message, opened it, and motioned for the boy to sit down. At the same moment Kestner backed against the door and quietly turned the key in the lock. For one quick glance had already' carried back to consciousness the startling fact that the sheet of paper which he held was signed by Maura Lambert herself. The message which he found himself reading was both explicit and brief. " Could I see you at once.'' " it read. *' I ask only because it is most urgent and most important. Maura Lambert." After studying this message for a second time Kest- fe.1 184 THE HAND OF PERIL ner stood submitting the bearer of it to still tnother of his apparently impersonal and abstracted scrutinies. Yet in that brief second or two the Secret Serviceman had taken in t very detjiil of th;if yonth's uniform and appearance, from the celluloid niiinher-plate on his cap to the worn-down heels of his shoes. His final decision was in no way a contradiction of his first impression. Tliat A.D.T. boy was authentic enough. But somewhere behind that message, he felt, there was still some trickery, some hidden trap which it was his business to fathom. " Where did this note come from? " was Kestner's casual inquiry. " Fr'm th' Alambo," was the equally casual reply. " What's that? " demanded Kestner. ** Squab-dump ! " was the laconic answer. Then seeing he was not understood, the uniformed youth added: "It's one o' them burlap-lined apart- ment-hotels wit' all th' onyx in th' office an' all the Tenderloin in th' uppers ! " " You mean it's not the right place for a young woman? " " Gee ; it's full o' th'm ! An' I guess it's as good '& any other theatrical dump along th' Way." " Where is it?" " Jus' above Longacre Square." " And where did you get tins note? "' " From ii woman in number seventeen." "What did she look like?" The youth appraised his interrogator, looking him up and down with listless yet uncannily sagacious eyes. THE HAND OF PERIL 186 " She was a peach," he finally asserted. *' But, lay, she wasn't th' cheap kind! " ** Then the other kind there are cheap? *' ** They*8 all got a sprinklin* o' broads, them second- raters, — 'nd I guess th' Alambo ain't no Martha Washington." " Wliat did that woman look like? " repeated Kcst- ner. The youth struggled through a description whic'^ Kestncr was able to organise into a sufficiently con- vincing pi'^tv re of Maura Lambert. But the mystery of tlio situation only increased. There was a touch of novelty in having the enemy one had pursued half way round the world suddenly turning about and soliciting an interview. And it was equally disturbing tr the established order of things to find Maura Lambert in an environment as unsavoury as the Alambo promised to be, for Lambert, whatever his activities, had always sheltered his youthful " scratcher " behind at least a fa9nde of respectability. " Was that woman alone when s. gave you this note? " pursued Kestner. " Sure," was the answer. " Did she tell you bring t -ick an answer? " " Yep! An' give nic a bone extra f'r bein' quick ! " Kestner pondered the situation for a moment or two. ** How soon will you be back at the Alambo ? " The youth took off his cap and examined a second message stowed away there. " 'S soon as I beat it down to th' McAlpin an' back," was his answer. 186 THE HAND OF PERIL "That means inside an hour?" asked Kestner, as he sat down and began writing on a sheet of paper. " Yep," answered the boy. Kestnt-r's written reply was as brief as the message that prompted it. He merely said : " I'll be glad to see you and since you say it's urgent, the sooner the better." He sealed the note, quietly crossed the room to the locked door, turned the key, and stepped out into the hall. He seemed relieved to find that hallway quite empty. " Wait here for me," he called back to the boy. The wait, to the listless-eyed youth, was not a long one. But in that brief space of time a message had gone down for a taxi-cab and a federal plain-clothes man had received instructions to shadow \ A.D.T. messenger to the Ho+cl McAlpin and from the Mc- Alpin back to the Alambo. But that boy was to be in no way interfered with. Kestner handed his message to the waiting youth, and with it a dollar bill. " Now are you sure that second message is for the McAlpin " he inquired. For answer, the youth produced the message itself. It was a violet-coloured envelope, redolent of patchouli, and inscribed with a handwriting that was almost childish in its fonnkssness. One glance at it was enough, and the next moment Kestner was pushing the boy half-humorously towards the open door. Once that door was closed again, how- ever, Kestner's diffidence had disappeared. In two minutes he had made himself ready for the street, and THE HAND OF PERHi 187 in another two minutes he was in a taxicab speeding across the city in the direction of the Alambo. It was a case, he felt, where nothing was to be lost by taking the initiative. He had long since learned, in his warfare against the criminal, that there was always an advantage in the unexpected. Instead of quietly waiting for Maura Lambert to come to him, whatever that visit might signify, he was going to her. And in work such as his, he reassured himself, it was worth something, now and then, to trump an enemy's ace. VIII It was exactly twelve minutes later that Kestner*s knock sounded on the door of Suite Seventeen in that rookery of migratory birds known as the Alambo. He knew the type well enough, for in Paris and Budapest and Monte Carlo and Trouville his work had only too often taken him into such quarters. He was familiar enough with each sordid detail, the en- trance of gilt and marble and plush, the belittered breakfast-trays at bedroom doors, the kimonoed figures that visited from floor to floor and calmly ar- ranged hydrogenated hair in elevator-mirrors, the overflow of cocktail glasses and beer bottles ungar- nered by slatternly chamber-maids, the mingled odours of musty carpets and house-pets and Turkish ciga- rettes. It puzzled Kestner not a little, as he repeated his knock and stood prepared for any emergency, to find adequate excuse for Maura Lambert's presence in such a place. She was not of the breed common to such a rookery. He reminded himself that there must be some exceptional reason for her retreat to an environ- ment so exceptional. Then all thought on the mat- ter ended, for he heard a light step cross the room, and a moment later found himself staring into the somewhat stai-tled eyes of Maura Lambert herself. It waa plain that she was not expecting him. He 188 THE HAND OF PERU. 188 could see that he had taken her unawares, for over one arm she carried a low-necked gown of white chiffon cloth embellished with dotted net and lace and rib- bon-flowers. This she must have been about to pack away in a travelling-bag, for one stood open in a shabby Morris-chair on the far side of the room. He nc iced, too, that she was dressed for the street, and it did not surprise him to catch sight of her hat and gloves standing close beside the travelling-bag. Then he looked once more back at her face. On the brow beneath the heavily massed chestnut hair was a small frown of wonder. The dark-lashod violet-blue eyes were wide with a vague incredulity. There was, too, a touch of timorousness in her pose, but she made no move to withdraw. " You wanted to see me," was Kestner*s casual re- minder, as he advanced a trifle, that the door might not be swung between him and the one woman he de- sired to see. Even as she looked at him her self- possession seemed to return to her. " I asked if I might come to see you,'* she amended, with her wide-irised eyes still fixed on his face. " But you said it was urgent," argued her visitor. "It is urgent," she admitted. Kestner could not help noticing the deepened shadows about the heavily-lashed eyes, the sense of ncnous strain about the softly-curving lips. The oval face, with its accentuated note of tragedy, re- minded him of some pictorial figure which at first he could not place. It was several minutes before his mind reached the goal towards which it bad been groping. He knew, then, that her shadowy face was i r t 190 THE HAND OF PERIL in some way suggestive of Sargent's painting of the prophet " Ilosea." " Then shall I come in? " he quietly inquired. "Yes," she said with an abstraction which implied her mind was occupied by other and more troubling things. Kcstncr, as he stepped into the room, swept the place with one of his quick and comprehensive glances. Through a door opening into a small bedroom he caught sight of a partly packed trunk. On the bed beside it was a disordered tumble of clothing, tlie litter of wrapping paper about it implying that much of that apparel was newly bought. These quickly comprehended details gave to the place a spirit of transiency. They made it plain to the newcomer that he had interrupted Maura Lambert in some sudden movement towards flight. And again, as he stared into xier face, his earlier suspicions as to the possi- bility of a trap returned to him. Yet he was very much at his ease, face to face with this old-time enemy of liis, and in no way afraid of her. The one thought that troubled him was the con- tingency that she might not be alone, that behind one of those menacing doors might be a confederate, that close at hand was some coarser-fibred colleague who was using her for his own ends. But the persistent voice of some feeling which he could not quite de- cipher kept telling him that tliis was not the case. He wanted to believe in her. " Won't you sit down? " she said, quietly motioning him towards a chair. " Thank you," he answered, as formally as though THE HAND OF PERIL 191 his call had been a social one. Yet he wondered just why she should have this power of restraining and intimidating him. In work such as his there was lit- tle room for the finer issues of and he had long since learned not to be overcouruous to an enemy. The sudden consciousness that he was treating her with a consideration which she as his quarry had ''one nothing to merit made him more watchful of eye and more wary of movement. He resented the higher plane to which '^he still had the power of coerci ^ ii!:n, even while he prayed that she would not confound his inward belief in her. Before seating himself, however, he moved his chair back until it stood against the wall of the room. This was an announcement, he knew, oi his latent distrust in her and her motives. Yet the movement seemed lost on her, though Kestner reminded himself that in the past she had proved herself a capable enough actress. He even wondered, as he gazed about those s;iall and dingy chambers, how often the antique games of blackmail had been played betwetn their faded walls. He also pondered the fact that she would be an espe- cially valuable woman at such rork, with her incongru- ous air of purity and otr r-worldliness, her undeniable beauty, her ahnost boy-IiKe unconcern of sex. Yet the next movement, as he looked back at the intent face with its inapposite flower-like appeal, he resented the very thought of her as a pawn iu any- thing so sordid as the panel-game. It was unbeliev- able. He had seen too many of those ladies of drag- gled plumes and their meretricious assumptions of grandeur. About them all had been the betraying 192 THE HAND OF PERU. taint, the inconsequential word or move that marked them as demimondaine, the over-acted gent'lity that proved as obvious, in the end, as the paper roses of stagedom. ** You should not have come here," she said, after several moments of thoiiglit. "Why not?" demanded Kestner. Because it is dangerous," was her answer. " For whom? " There was a touch of cynicism in his smile, but she chose to disregard it. Her brow did not lose its look of troubled thought. " For you," she answered. "But not for you?" he inquired. "For both of us," she amended. He won a thin and wintry pleasure from the thought that they were bracketed together, if only by peril. "Then why did you send for me?" was his next question. There was a shadow of reproof in her eyes at the obliquity of that inquiry. " I did not send for you," she reminded him. " I asked to come to you." "For what reason?" Her eyes were again studying his face. He wa« struck by both their fearlessness and their lack of guile. That strange life of hers, he felt, must have beaten down those flimsier reticences and privacies of sex behind which youth, as a rule, sat with its illu- sions. "I wanted to see if we could possibly come to tennsj" she finally announced. THE HAND OF PERIL 19S It took an effort for Kestner to retain his pose of impersonality. " What terms? " he quietly inquired. " That is what we mtist decide on," she said in the same tone of solemn candour. "Why?" demanded her visitor, still fencing for time. " Because I can't go on like this," she replied, with a listlessly tragic movement of the hands ; " nothing can go on like this ! " I know it," was Kestners quiet retort. She did. not resent any note of triumph that ma^ have been in his voice. Her brow still wore its look of troubled thought. " It isn't you that I*m afraid of," she announced, the abstraction of her tone taking all sting from the statement. "Then what is it?" he usked, lamenting the fact that he could not see her face. " It's myself," she answered after a moment's hesi- tation. " I can't go on with ;.his. I've got to get away from it all!" The violct-blue eyes were once more courageously meeting Kestner's unparticipating stare. "You rementber what you told ms in Palermo.? How father and I could ne\jr keep on at this sort of work, how it must go from bad to worse, and always lead to one end, and only one end? Well, that is the way it is leading. I always tried to tell myself that money would be a protection. To do what we were doing seemed terrible only when it im- plied poverty and terror and flight from one comer to another. We always had money enough to keep 19* THE HAND OF PERIL up appearances. And when we worked together we always felt safe. But we were safe only because we kept together." " And you're not keeping together? »» Kestner in- quired. " We can't," was her almost tragic answer. " Are you willing to tell me why? " ** I'm compelled to tell you why." « What is it? » he asked. When she spoke, after a pause, she unconsciously lowered her voice. " It's ^Morcllo ! " Kestner could see that she had not easily made that confession. " But why should you be afraid of one of your own circle? " " I think you know why I am afraid of him," she answered. Kestner could also see that it was now costing her an effort to speak cahnly. « He was al- ways an animal. But now he is half mad, and worse than an animal ! " " Has he anything to do with your being here? " Kestner demanded. " He has everything to do with my being here. I came here to escape him. I chose this place because I knew he would come to a place like this last. He knows how I hate such things ! " Kestner was watching her narrowly. He decided that she was one of two things: either the most ac- complished of actresses, or a woman who was indeed ncaring, in some way, the end of her rope. But the years had indurated his sympathies, and he warned himself to go slowly. THE HAND OF PERH. 195 "What does your father «ay about it?»» he de- manded. There H as a momentary look of revolt in the brood- ing violet-blue eyes. " That is the hopeless part of it all," she acknowl- edged. " He is willing that I should go with Morello. Something has made him change. He doesn't seem willing to help me any more ! " "But without you he is helpless.?'* " Without me, as things are, he cannot go on with the work he has been doing," she admitted. "Why?" asked Kestner. She did not answer him at once. Instead, she rose to her feet, crossed the room to her open travelling- bag, and from its depths took out a parcel wrapped in a strip of green baize. This parcel was small, and oblong in shupe, but as she walked back to the chair with it, it impressed Kestner as being of considerable weight. " Because here," she said, as she sat down and held the baize-covered bundle on her knees, "I have all the plates with which his new counterfeits were to be printed ! " IX Kestner sat staring at her as she slowly undid that innocent-looking oblong parcel covered with its green baize wrapper. His pulse quickened a little as he caught the glint of polished metal. There were eight plates, he could see, each padded by an oblong of red blotting-paper trimmed to the size of the plate it- self. Maura Lambert looked up and saw the Secret Agent's eyes studying the sheets of metal that lay in her lap. " It's only natural for you not to believe me any more. I cin't even ask you to accept my word. But these," she went on, as she touched the plates with her finger-tips, "you can recognise at a glance. I want you to take them. That will show you I am beipLT sincere ! " She was hoL. g them out to him, but he did not reach for them. Yet the irony of the situation did not escape him. Here he sat face to face with the cleverest coun^.erfeiter in all Europe, the woman he had pursued half way round the world, and she of her own free will was handing over to him the fateful pieces of engraved metal which had once stood the en J and object of all that pursuit. Life, he told him- self, did not resolve itself into tluatricahtics like this! Somewhere at the core of all that carefully carpentered structure was the canker of untruth. 196 ■iJi THE HAND OF PERIL 197 I I And it was his duty to break down her arch of de- ception while there was still time. " You must believe me! " she cried out, startled by the look of doubt that had swept over his face. "Why?" he demanded. "Because I am asking you to help me!" she said with a forlornness of tone which touched him even against his will. " But how can I do that? " I' By letting things stand as ihcy are," was her quick retort. " By dropping this persecution of me and my father and giving me the chance of going back to Europe ! '* Kcstner was watching her closely. " Who told you to ask for this? " he r^-manded. " I am asking it for myself," was her reply. " And in asking it I can give you the promise there will be no need for further action on your part." " By that you mean no more counterfeiting? " " Yes." "But can you answer for your father, and for Morello, when you venture that promise? " " No, I can't answer for them," she acknowledged, as she looked down at the plates on her knee. Then she turned back to Kestner again. " But, don't you see, without these to print from they will be helpless. They can't carry out what they have planned, without plates. And without me they can never make more! " That, at least, seemed reasonable enough. "Then what must I do?" inquired the Secret Agent. " Let me get away from all this," was her answer. 198 THE HAND OF PERIL He knew that any such cry for quarter, from that proud spirit, was not easy of utterance. " But it's not in my hands," he protested. " I'm only one small cog in the wheels of a huge machine they call the law." " But what does that machine gain by grinding us down, now? What good can it do you, or your gov- ernment, or the whole world, if you keep nic .om going back to the dec( nt life I want to live? " " My personal feelings have nothing to do with the matter. Do you imagine everything that has hap- pened during the last few weeks has been merely a personal matter with me? That I haven't been driven into doing things that were odious to me? That I haven't always wanted to save you from what was ahead of you? " " You can dj that," she interrupted. " AllI want is the chanc to get awa-, to ^ave myself from worse things than you can face me with! And you won't even believe me ! " Kestner .at for several moments without speaking. " You must rather despise me," he ventured, as his meditative eyes met hers. " Not so much as I despise myself ! was her slightly embittered answer. "And I don't blame you — for anything. I think I understand, now. Sometimes I've been almost glad that you v/ere do.i.;z what you were. I got a sort of relief from Lhe thought that you were following us, every move ve made. I've felt safer, lately, remembering you were somewhere near, even if it was to undo everything my THE HAND OF PERIL 199 father had been working for. But when I sav that* too, you can't believe ine, can you ? " "I wish I could," Kcstner admitted. He found himself speaking with an earnestness of which on second thought he felt slightly ashamed. He was still torturing his soul with the query as to how much of all sno said was gcnuire and how iiiuc-li was trickery. lie could indulge in none of the exultation of a com- batant who finds his adversary in an extremity. Her predicament, if such it were, brought him no sense of personal triumph. Yet as he glanced about that dingy and disordered room and then back at the pale oval of her face he felt reassured of the fact that she was ill-suited to the setting in which he had found her. She still impressed him as being intrinsically too fine of fibre for the life of the social free-hooter. But he could not forget the fact that she was Paul Lam- bert's daughter and the agent through whom that master-criminal had planned to debauch a nation's currency. They sat there, facing each other ''n one of those pregnant silences which sometimes come when wide issues are at stake. Kestner remembered that she was beleaguering him with none of the artifices of sex. There was something almost judicial in her impassiv- ity, as though her case had been put and her last word had been said. And in that very abnegation of ap- peal, he felt, she was circuitously assailing his will and breaking down his resolution. She must have caught from his eyes some vague look of capitulation, for she raised her head, as though £00 THE HAND OF PERIL to speak to him. But she did not open her lips, and no word passed between them. For at that moment the silence was broken by an- other and a quite unexpected sound. It camp in the form of a sudden knock on the door, a peremptory and authoritaave knock which caused Kestner's figure to stiffen in its chair, and the next moment brought him, alert and tingling, to his feet. He did not look at the door, for he was watching the woman before whom he stood, wondering if this marked the consummation of her undeciphcred plan, speculating as to what his next step should be. Then he suddenly remembered the messenger boy and his undelivered message. Kestner was able to breathe more freely. It left him with still a shadow of hope as to her integrity. He could see her as she sat there, with her gaze fixed on the locked door. She had made no movement, and she had not changed colour. But as the knock was repeated, more peremptorily than before, her whole face altered. There seemed to be a narrowing of vision, a hardening of the lines about the sensitive mouth, a masking of the spirit which a moment earlier had stood before him like an open book. She was running truer to type, he felt, in that newer pose. It was a nearer approach to what he had expected of "Who is that.?" he demanded in a whisper. The woman sitting in the chair did not answer him. But die made a quick and terrified motion for silence. Ihen she rose to her feet, glancing wide-eyed about the room. THE HAND OF PERIL 201 "Who is that?" again demanded Kestner as he lifted his revolver from its pocket. Still she did not answer him. But a look of mute protest leaped into her eyes as she saw his fire-arm. " Wait," she implored in a whisper. She gave him the impression of being afraid to speak. But her eyes seemed to appeal to him for help, touched with the pathos of an animal to whom the power of speech has not been given. And for a moment, in the teeth of the odds that were against her, he believed in her. "Wait," she wliispered aga"n as she pointed to- wards the door of the dingy little bedroom behind him. He understood her gesture. But for a mo- ment he hesitated, staring down into her face. It was quite colourless, by this time, and oddly twisted, as a child's face is sometimes contorted with pain. But her hand was still stretched half-imploringly to- wards that dingy room in the rear. Then, as the knock was repeated, he stepped si- lently back through that second door, with his hat in one hand and his revolver in another. Then he quietly closed the door and secured it by the heavy brass bolt which he found on the inside. At the same moment he heard the rustle of licr skirts and the sound of a key being turned in the lock. He had no time to deliberate on the fact that she had locked him in the room where he stood, for in the next breath he could hear the sound of her voice, addressed to the impatient knocker at the outer door. " Just a moment," she called out with a slightly ris- ing inflection which gave a note of casualness to her cry. And Kestner, crouching behind that inner door, 20« THE HAND OF PERH. could easily picture how desperately she was re-mar- shalling the scattered lines of her composure. He could hear lior as she crossed the room again. He could even catch the sound of the key as it was turned in the distant lock. He knew the door had been opened, but no sound reached his ears. He heard the thud of the door as it was swun£- shut again. But still no sound of voices came to tiie listener in the inner room. That listener suddenly caught his breath, clasped his hat on his head, and swung about. For a moment the suspicion flashed through him that Maura Lam- bert had cleverly given him the slip. His fingers were already lifted to the brass draw-bolt when the silence was broken by the sound of a laugh, an open-throated and deep-chested laugh of mockery that was not pleas- ant to hear. Then a voice spoke. " You are not glad — that I have come ! " And Kestner, as he listened there, knew that the voice was the voice of Morellow It was by no means a feeling of fear that surged through the man imprisoned in that squahd inner room of the Alambo, as he heard the voice of his old- time enemy. It was more an incongruous feeling of dehverance, of relief at the thought that Maura Lam- bert had not as yet betrayed him. Then he stood u^ain hstening, for the sound of voices was once more coming from the outer room. " How dare you come here? » he could hear the woman demand. He could hear Morello's repeated laugh of mockery, and then the sound of the Neapolitan's voice. It was a voice to which little of its native colouring still clung, for as Kestner had so often remarked, many years in America had robbed his ^eech of its idiom, and his vocation as a criminal had further imposed on him the necessity of denationahsation. " I can come anywhere now," was Mo; -llo's care- less answer. There was an audacity in that declara- tion which seemed new to the man: it was not without its effect on the woman confronting him. "But what right have you to come here?" she repeated in a voice which quavered a little, in spite of herself. From some apartment nearby the strident notes 203 S(H THE HAND OF PERIL of a piano struck up, as a vaudeville team settled down to determined rehearsals of an undetermined rag- time hit. Over and over the syncopated music was repeated, providing a raucous and ceaseless accom- paniment for the dialogue taking place in Number Seventeen. That tumult of sound compelled Kest- ner to place his ear flat against the panel of the in- ten'ening door, that none of the talk mi^t escape him in the general din. "What right have you to keep me out?" he could hear Morello demand. And again there was the sound of the full-throated laugli, but this time it was quite without mirth. *' You have been drinking ! " proclaimed the ac- cusatory voice of the woman. " Have I ? " was the heavy retort of her tormentor. It was plain that he had stepped closer to her. " And what if I have? When I want a thing, I get it." " Tony ! " cried the reed-like voice of the other, in sharp command. " Bah ! " cried back the scoffing voice. " Do not talk to me as though I were a child. The time for that is over ! " " And the time for this sort of nonsense is over," countered the woman. She had backed away from him, apparently, and was standing quite close to the bed- room door. Kestner, in the brief lapse of silence that followed, could catch the sound of her breathing. Then the neiglihouring piano struck up a louder tu- mult and he could hear onlv !MorelIo's voice asain. "Do you think you can get away from me? " the Neapolitan was saying. " No, signorita, it is too late THE HAND OF PERIL 205 in the game for that ! You are one of us, and you will stay one of us always ! " " You have nothing to do with what I am, or what I intend to be," was Maura Lambert's defiant retort. " No, that is already settled. You cannot get away from thai, any more than you can get away from mo. You came here, thinking I would not find you. vnd the next morning I am here. And on still the next morning I will be here ! '* Kestncr found himself unable to combat the sense of uneasiness which rose like a chilling tide through his indignant body. Here was a force that was ele- mental in its primitiveness, that could not be com- bated by the ordinary movements of life. And be- cause of that very pi-imitiveness it would always prove doubly perilous. It seemed to reduce everything to the plane of the brute. It was as disconcerting as the discovery of a tigress patrolling a city street. It was a padded Hunger which could be checkmated only by a force as feral as its own. "My father would kill you for this!" he could hear the frightened girl cry out. And the next mo- ment he could hear Morello's laugh of careless dis- dain. "He would kill me, would he? And two days ago he sent me to you, and said just what I have said to-day ! " "That is a lie!" Maura Lambert called out. You know what happened to Ferrone, two winters ago in Capri! Ho ^^lked that way, and he went to Corfu with a bullet in his arm! And wlion Shocn- bein insisted on insulting me, as you are doing, my £06 THE HAxND OF PERIL father followed him to Abbazzia and he was m the hospital at Fiume for over three weeks ! " " Yes," mocked Morello, " he watched over you then, because you were of use to him. He watched over you the same as a circus manager watches over an animal in a cage! Oh, yes, he took good care of you — the same care that a track- racer takes of his horse! lie took care of you because lie had use for you. He kept others away so that you could serve him and his ends. He put you in a cage, and fed you and kept you warm. He taught you the tricks he needed. He decked you out in fine feathers and let you idle about in soft places — but he did that be- cause it paid him to do it ! And it paid him to see that you were always alone, and he kept you always alone ! " " That's not true ! You know it's not true ! He kept my life clean, he kept it decent, no matter what it cost, because he was my father and he cared for me!" "How much has he cared?" demanded Morello. "The same as a crook cares for his capper! The same as a rabbit-hunter cares for his ferret! And when he thinks you cannot be of use to him, will drop you, the same as he would drop an old ' ; !" Kestncr had to strain his ear to ■. -.v-h tl Vs answer above, the din of the piano-poundin _ i tne nearby apartment. " That is my father you are speaking of," he could hear the quavering voice r-ply, and it rose in pitch as the phrase was repeated, "my father — do you hear ! " THE HAND OF PERIL 207 Still again the sound of Morello*s heavy laughter filled the outer room. "So lie's your father," he scoffed. "Then I call him a fine kind of a father! Ha, a fine father, wasn't lie, to take all those years to train you as a forger! A fine father to take a young girl and show her the secrets of counterfeiting, and keep her at it, until she was the best steel-engraver in the business ! He was a kind man, was he not, to take you out of a convent, when he found you were clever with a pen and brush, and put you to copying postage-stamps and Austrian bank-notes and let you think it was for museum ex- hibitions! That was a fine trick, was it not? Ha, and he was a fine father when he tried to match you off with that check-forger named Carlosi, that smooth- tongued cut-throat who had swindled his way from ^Messina to Berlin and back before you had stopped playing with your dolls! Ah, I see you remember Carlesi ! " " I don't want to hear any more of this ! " cried the girl. «* I can't listen to — " " But you must hear more of this," contended the other, losing himself more and more in that fiery tor- rent of words as he went on. " And you are going to hear it now. I, myself, Antonio Morello, have something to say about that. Carlesi you remember, yos, and you will never forgot him. This man you call your father said you should marry him — you, a girl of eighteen and Carlesi already hunted out of Berne and Vienna and Budapest by the police! Do you know why he planned that marriage? I will tell you why. He saw he was losing his hold over you* £08 THE HAND OF FEHIL and he was afraid. He needed you in his work. He hud spent years in making you what you were. But he saw you were beginning to be restless, 4iat your heart was not at rest, tliat you might break away from him! And he wanted to tie you down, for his own use. He wanted to chain you to where he had placed you, the same as a dog is tied to its kennel. And Carlcsi was to be tlie chain to hold you there!" " That is not true ! " half moaned the girl. "Ha, so it is not true? And it is not true, that night in Perugia, in the villa where by chance you found the first printing-press? That night when Carlesi tried to come through the window, after you had quarrelled with him in the garden. That was your father's villa, on that night, and Carlesi could never have come to that window without your father's consent. No, this fine father of yours knew what Carlesi was going to do. That was part of the plan. But you shot Carlesi as he pushed his way in through the window. Ah, you remember that too ! You shot him, through the curtains, and he fell back into the garden. That was something which this man Lam- bert had not looked for. It changed his plans. But it did not end them. He was too clever for that ! " " I will not listen," cried the desperate girl. " I will not listen to this ! " " You must listen. For it is time you neard these things. You killed Carlesi. And he fell into the gar- den, and your father took care of the body. He cov- ered up the crime and promised that no one should know. It took much money. That was explained to THE HAND OF PERIL 209 you, and that was why, the next day, you forged the signatures to the Paris Electric certificates which had been stolen a month before. Lambert knew, then, that he had you under his thumb. V ui had killed a man, and no one must know. It was the secret be- tween you and your father. It was the chain that held you down. And Carlesi dead was worth even more to him than Carlesi alive ! " " Oh, don't — don't ! " half sobbed the girl. " Don't go on with this ! " But Morello was not to be stopped. " You killed Carlesi. You leaned out of the win- dow and saw your father carry the body away. You saw it, with your own eyes. But you did not see everything. You did not see where he was taken. You did not see that he was still alive, and that in three weeks' time he was given four thousand lira on condition that he go to America and never be seen back in Italy ! " " What do you mean by that.? " gasped the breath- less girl. *' I mean what I have said. You did not kill Car- lesi. It was this fine father of yours who lied to you, who made you think you had murdered a man! " " This can't be true — it can't ! " " I can prove it is true. I can bring this man Carlesi to you, and then you will know. He will point out the bullet-wound, with his own finger. Then you will understand who the liar is ! " The girl's voice was so quiet that the listening Kestner could scarcely catch her next words as she spoke. If ff 11 «10 THE HAND OF PERIL ** My father would never lie to me like that ! He would never do that!'* It was thon that Morello exploded his final dev- astating truth at her, " Your father ! " he cried. " He is no more your father than I ami " XI Kestn'er, as he stood there leaning against the faded panel of that locked door which separated him from those passionately contending voices, retained little memory of where he was. He had forgotten the Alambo and its unsavoury warrens, he had forgottoi the dingy gaiety of the criinson-papered bedroom be- hind him, he had forgotten the fusillade of ragtime piano-music, .elancholy in its constant reiterations, which assailed his ears. He no ktnger remembered just why he was t\ re. He was unconscious even of the ignominy of his position, of his eavesdropper's attitude behind a closed door, where he crouched with twitching nerves along his body and beads of sweat on his forehead. All he heard and comprehended were those words of ]\rorcIlo's — the words which seemed to solve at one stroke the enigma of Maura Lambert's life. They flashed light into the deepest comer of a mystery which from the first he had been unable to explain or explore. They brought to him a sudden yet unde- cipherable sense of elation. They not only carried with them a readjustment of the entire case, but also the consciousness that his interest in the career of this girl, who had been driven into crime under com- pulsion, was more than a professional interest. And 211 212 THE HAND OF PERIL he did not lament the discovery. It left him with something to live for, something' to work for. But Kcstncr could give no ftirtlur thought to the matter, for the girl on the other side of the door was already speaking again. The timbre of her voice had altered. It seemed touched with fear, and at the same time with exultation. It carried, even above the trivial noises of that sordid rookery of sordid lives, the note of a soul which found itself confronted by issues wider than it could understand. "That can't be true!" she half-sobbed. "It can't ! " "You do not believe? \o! That is natural," Morello cried back at her. " They have made all your life a lie. But when I show you Carlesi, face to face, will you believe ? " " I can't believe it ! " Yet for all that protest her voice carried a note of tremulous rhapsody which even Kestner could detect. And r^Iorel'L, gloij-'ng in the discovery that he was upsetting her world about her, that he was leaving her nothing stable, nothing on which to rely, let the tide of his gi'ini purpose carry him along. " You will come with me, and then you will know. I do not ask you to believe. You will see, with your own eyes. And then you will know. You will know what I know, that Paul Lambert is not your father, t'-at he robbed your father in Civitavecchia when he went there dying of Roman fever. Lambert had been sent there from Paris, to steal maps of the fort. But instead of stealing the maps, he stole you. He saw you were a clever child and that he could make use of THE lUiND OF PERIL It you. He took you to a convent in Switzerland. Voii will reiiit'iiil)( r that. And when he took you out of tliat c-onvint Iw began training yon for his work. Already he was a forger, yes, a good forger. He forged the papers in which you always believed, the papers about yourself. Then you know what he did. You know how he — '* Kostncr, ^ lining to catch every word, heard Morello's vc .rail off" into sudden silence. In that silence, for u second or two, he could hear nothing but the stridently muffled notes of the distant piano and the far-away rattle and clank of an elevator door- grill as it slid shut on its runway. Then he caught the unmistakable sound of a woman's gasp of terror and surprise. Immediately following that strange ^sp came an- other sound, the sound of a newer and deeper voice sounding in the room just beyond the locked door. *' You welcher I " boomed out that sterner and harsher voice. And the cry was repeated, slowly and deliberately, but in - tone even more passionate. " You dirty weleher ! " Kestner could see nothing of what had taken place or was then taking place. But as he heard that voice he knew it was Lambert himself speaking, Lambert who must have stepped quietly into the room while the Neapolitan was pouring out his volcanic utter- ances to the bewildered woman in front of him. And the sudden realisation of what Lambert's intrusion meant at such a moment brought a tingle of nerves needling up and down the backbone of the intently listening Kestner. ill m THE HAND OF PERIL He waited there, motionless and breathless, as that silence of only a few seconds jirolonged itself into something which to his straining nerves seemed almost interminable. Then, above the din of the Alambo's many activi- ties, came still another sound. It was not loud. It was a sound not unlike tlud of one })Oiird being dropped flat on anotlx r, or of two books being slapped together to rid them of dust. It was a sound that might have been accepted as the distant explosion of gnses in the exhaust of a back- firing automobile, or, to the uninitiated ear, as the quick slam of a door. But to Kestner it meant some- thing quite different. It was a sound wliich he had heard on more than one occasion, and always with a feeling of nettling nerve-ends. Almost before the meaning of that sound liad fully registered itself on his startled consciousness there was a second and less determinate sound. The floor under Kestner's feet quivered a little with the con- cussion of some sudden weight imposed upon it. ^ But tlie Secret Agent no lon;M-r stood there inac- tive. That tell-tale thud brought his hand up ^o the brass draw-bolt. Even when this was released, how- ever, he found the door still locked. He could not dis- tinctly remember whether he cried out or not. But he ac least knew that he was struggling and straining ineffectually against a locked door, and losing valu- able time. Then lie wheeled about and ran back into the cen- tre of the room. There he caught up a slattern- cushioned arm-chair, letting the cushions faU about THE HAND OF PERH. 215 him as he raised it high above his head. Then, swing- ing back to the locked door, he brought the chair- legs v'fn a sijattonng crash against the faded panels. That ]:iu l' blow intered the edge of the door, break- ing fi -1 ^}.-' m. rtised lock and leaving it free to swing oacwc^. i '"to the next room. Kestner, dropping the chair, stepped into that next room. On the floor, half-way between the bedroom and the opened door leading to the hall, lay Morello. He lay on his back, with either arm thrown out at right angl s to his body, in the form of a crtiss. Kestner stooped over him. There was a small blue hole in the man's forehead, just above the nose-bridge where the black-haired eye-brows met, and from the back of the head the skull had been blown entirely away. And in the meantime the rhapsodic rag-time Saturnalia of sound went on in ita nearby room un- interrupted. Kestner stepped to the hall door and shut and locked it. Then he picked up the revolver which Lam- bert must have thrown back into the room as he fled. The Secret Agent's fingers were a little unsteady as from force of habit he examined this revolver and found the cartridge of one chamber empty. But he dropped the fire-arm, without emotion, close beside Morello's outstretched right hand. Then he peered quickly and inquiringly about the room. The package of plates was no longer there. On the floor was the piece of green baize in which they had been wrapped, but the delicately chased oblongs of metal were gone. Gone too was the travelling-bag 216 THE HAND OF PERU. and the hat and gloves which had stood beside it. And with them, Kestner suddenly realised, Maura Lambert had once more slipped away from him. He was not so troubled bv the thought tliat Lam- bert also had made his escape. A getaway such as that was only the fortune of war, a reverse to be atoned for by other movements on other days. But the memory of what had so recently taken place in that dingy-walled room, aiul the thouglit that now of all times he couid be of help to the girl so sorely in need of that help, carried him across the room and down the many-odoured hall to the elevator. The car rosi' to his floor, in response to his frantic pushes on the bell-button. A second later he was shooting down towards the office. " Did a tall man and a girl with a leather bag go down here a moment ago " Kestner asked the close- cropped 1. gro-boy operating the car. That youth's heavily impersonal face lightened into sudden interest as he felt a coin pressed into his hand. *' Yas, sah, dat young woman wen' down about two minutes ago! But th' tall gen'elmun, T see him go down by th' sta'ahs, sah, on de up trip w'en de woman rung f 'r me, sah ! '* " Was he hurrying? " " Yas, sah — he was trabbelin', all right ! ** Kestner stepped from the elevator-car to the office- desk. A pale-eyed clerk, with a head as bare as a billiard-ball, was leisurely re-addressing a heterogene- ous pile of mail-matter. Beside this mail-matter Kestner placed a card on which he had scribbled his name and address. THE HAND OF PERIL «17 " I think you had better call a policeman," he said to the pale-cycd clerk, still bent over his letters. ** A man lias Just been murdered in Number Seventeen!" The si, ling bald dome moved upward with incredi- ble rapidity. " A man's been what? " he vacuously demanded. " If you want me later ring me up," cried back Kestner as he made for the door of the Alambo. Outside that door liis quick eye fell on Wilsnach himself. His colleague of the Service was holding by the arm a small and vigorously protesting mes- senger-bo3'. " There's th' guy I want ! " was that youth's tri- umphant cry as Kestner made a spring for them. "What's wrong here?" barked out the Secret Agent. " This gink's tryin' to butt into my business. He comes up on th' run an' grabs me after I hand over tha^ message o' yours ! " " Where did you hand it? " "W'y, to th' dame herself as she hops into a taxi nn' beats it for Broadway without even waitin' to siim for it ! " Kestner wheeled about and stared eastward. There was no taxi in sight. " Was she alone? " was his next quick querv. "Yep!" ^ ^ J Xot with a tall man of about fifty ? " "Oh, that ol' guy grabbed th' first taxi an' got away as though he was answerin' a three-alarm call. That was b'fore th' dame wit* th' bag come out o' the hotel f " n 218 THE HAND OF PERIL " We're too late ! " gasped Kestner. He suddenly turned about and caught Wilsnach by the coat sleeve. "You got that man Carlesi? " he demanded. And his heart went down as he read the answer on Wils- nach's somewhat bewildered face, even before his lips spoke the words. " I thought I had him cornered, but he gave me the slip!" Kestner's hand dropped. "0 God, what a mess for one morning!" he breathed aloud. Wilsnach stepped back a little and stas d at his superior. It was not often that Kestner lapsed into emotionalism over trivialities. "But this man Carlesi is only small potatoes," argued Wilsnach. " He's nothing but — " " Never mind what he is," cut in Kestner, " we've got to get that man if it takes us round the world ! " Kestner sat in a brown study. It was three full hours since the murder of Antonio Morello in the Alambo. Not a word had as yet come in to him, and here was a situation, he knew, where time was precious. On the rosewood table in front of Kostner lay what was left of his third cigar. About his feet was a scat- tering of ashes, the residuary evidence of an hour's Vesuvian mental ferment. Confronting him on the polished table-top, not unlike huge pawns on an aban- doned chessboard, stood three telephone transmitters. Two of them were Kestncr's recently installed private wires. The third was the switch-board connection of the hotel itself. Kestner sat between those transmitters, momen- tarily unt^ccided as to what the next move should be. He sat where those wircc converged, waiting, like a spider at the centre of its web. Yet for all the in- tricate network of espionage that had been so fever- ishly and yet so dexterously thrown out across the City, no slightest word of value had trickled in to him. He vas still hesitating between the house-connection and his second private wire when the brisk tinkle of a bell brought an end to his indecision. He caught up the receiver on his left and found VVilsnach on the wire. "We've got something," announced Wilsnach. " Can I talk.?" 221 tcppcd into the room. And Kcstner's interest in that gallerj immedi- nlelv increased. He fired and saw a duck go down. Then he turned an(i glanced sleepily at the newcomer. It would have taken a k( n eve t- div t rn any interest or any altera- tion in that look. Tli cli inge was there, however, for at a glance the man in the rus^ty brown clothes had realised that the intruder was not Carlesi. Yet ti ,s intruder was not • .-'it his points of in- trrest. He app. ,iieti to be a r»..» ' 1 and squ ire- shoul- dered and small-eye(J man of about forty five, with a skin so oddly weather-reddened that its colour seemed to have been deepened with brick-dust. His wide- brimmed Stetson h tt was staine-^ with sweat, and from one corner of the full-blooded thick lips drooped a green Havana cheroot. Kestner, as he tried for another duck and sent it over, conceded there was both audacity and authority in that figure with the brick-dust ,skin and the alert little eyes. And Kestner, as li.' aimed for a bull's-eye ;uid ml^ -d by a bare inch, wondered ju-t what that pic- tures.jue newcoi.ier's business could be, and just what connection he could have with Carlesi and a bundle of bond-paper. But curiosity did not deter Kestner from his target practice. He remembered, as he tried again for the nearest bull's-eye and rang the bell, his long months of rifle and revolver work, his early pistol-drill as a poUce 228 THE HAND OF PERIL ** rookie," his idle weeks and weeks of shooting at the Monte Carlo pigeons. He had always been proud of his gun-work. But his aim would have been more as- sured, he knew, if the number of his cigars had been more limited. He was able to go down the row of clay pipes, however, snapping pipe after pipe off at the stem, each in its turn. Then, having leaned over the counter in utter idleness for a minute or two, he tried out the tube target. His third shot rang the bell. So did his fifth, his eighth, his ninth and his tenth. Then he put down his gun, felt through his pockets, and stared about with a heav3'-e3'ed dismay. " Heil! " he mumbled, " there ain't even a dime for another go ! '* He was conscious of the fact that the stranger in the sweat-stained Stetson had crossed over to the counter and was standing close beside him. He could hear the click of a coin as it was snapped down on the board. " Jigger, hand the gen*leman a gun. It*s worth a nickel or two to see real shootin* ! " Kestner laughed with lazy unconcern, took the rifle, and tried for his eleventh target. "Missed!" ejaculated the stranger as the bullet left its tell-tale stain a half-inch above the bull's-eye. " 'S what booze does," complained Kestner as he sighted again. Out of the next six shots, however, four of them were bull's-eyes. It was by that time, too, that Kestner had decided on his role. "You*re a slick shot," solemnly admitted the stranger. ''liE HAND OF PERIL " Get me some day without a hang-over," was the other's heavily boastful reply. " Say, son, where'd you learn to shoot that way? ** "Down in the Panhandle Country," was the promptly mendacious reply. '"Learnt ridin', too, I s'pose?" " Anything on hoofs," acknowledged the other, as he made a fumble at rolling a cigarette. " You out o' work? " casually inquired the stranger. " Yep ! " "What's your trade?" Kestner felt that his new friend was not long in get- ting down to cases. " Tried brakin' on the C. and G. T., but the work was too heavy. Before that I was a plumber. But I got in bad, out yonder." " Where? " « Out West." " How? " Scabbin'." " I guess you've done sti'ike-breakin' then? ** " Sure. A man's got to live." " And you ain't gun-shy of a little excitement? ** Kestner laughed, " I can eat it." Then he yawned, openly and audi- bly. " But what I could eat now's about ten hours' leep," The stranger at his side grew suddenly thoughtful. " I'm roundin' up a bunch o* strike-breakers my- self," he explained. The lowering of his voice became confidential, fraternal. " I'm lookin' for a couple o' hundred good men ; and you're the style I'm after." «80 THE HAND OF PERIL Kestner viewed him with a carelessly cynical eye. "What're you payin'?" " Three dollars a day, and everything found. That includes transportation from New York." " In gold? » The query elicited a guarded look of appraisal from the stranger in tne Stetson hat. The figure in rusty brown, apparently, was not as unsophisticated as he looked. " Gold, sure," was the final response. "And where*s the transportation to?" The stranger waved an ambiguously comprehensive ami "Down South." "But how far down?" Kestner backed disdain- fully away. "Get this, my friend, first crack: No Mexican stuff for mine ! " " Oh, we-i: call this the other side of the CanaL*» "But what's the game? " " Protectin' nitrate mines." "Go on!" " Ain't that enough?" " Not for me." Kestner leaned sleepily against the shooting-gallery counter. The other man stood study- ing him. " Look here, son, I*m roundin* up a bunch o* long- horns who can take a chance, and do what they're told, and keep their mugs shut. That's worth three dollars a day. And if they can shoot it's worth two dollars extra." "That sounds like Banana belt revolution work." " Nc^ son, it*s just Banana belt politics. And once THE HAND OF PERH. JMl we carry the election in that republic there's a three hundred dollar bonus waitin* for ev'ry man who's made good. And I'm a poor guesser if you'd be a quitter in a game like that." " Oh, I'm glad enough to get out o' this burg. But I'm bust. Whafre you givin' me down? " " Twenty bones." "And no questions asked?" " All you've got to do is step down to the office and sign up." Kestner viewed the other man with a sudden show of suspicion. But that mention of an office interested him. "There's no street-parade about this thinjr, is there? " " " Son, what're you scared of? " was the stranger's gentle inquiry. " I'm scared o' nothin'. But a couple o» flatties've got my number and they're goin' to pound me off the island. All I want is a comer to crawl into till I can sleep this head o' mine off." " Then just step this way," said the man with the Stetson hat, as he glanced casually about and crossed to the sidewall door and opened it. He waited until the sleepy-eyed man at his heels had passed through that door. Then he swung it shut. " And here's your twenty to cinch the thing," he added as he produced a capacious roll of bills and peeled off two yellowbacks. Kestner took the two bills, folded them up, and started to tuck them carefully into his vest pocket. Then, as he listlessly followed the other man down the THE HAND OF PEllIL narrow steps into the next room, he drew out those jellowbacks for a second inspection. " I thought jou paid in gold," he suddenly de- murred. " That's as good as gold, ain't it? " Kestner, at the moment, did not answer, for he was staring down at ihv two ten-dollar notes, re-inspect- ing thorn with the trained eye of the expert. " Ain't that as good as gold.'* " demanded the other man. " Sure," was Kestner's easy answer, for the first glance had warned him that those two yellowbacks were counterfeits. And the second glance had con- vinced him of the fact that they had been printed from Lambert plates, with Lambert inks, and on Lam- bert paper. Kestner found himself in a basement-room which bore evidence of at one time being used as a plumb< r's shop. In the front comer stood an overturned enamel bath-tub and a couple of hand-bowls of the same ma- terial. Behind these lay a pile of gas-piping, and in the heavily grated window below the street-level Kest- ner could make out a dusty array of pipe-wrenches and faucets, a gasoline pump torch, and a broken heat-coil. Next to this window was a grated door which opened on a steep flight of steps leading to the sidewalk level. In the middle of the room stood a huge flat-topped desk on wliich was a telephone trans- mitter, a city directory, and a green-shaded electric- light. But it was none of these things that held Kestner's attention. His quick glance had already taken in the THE HAND OF PERH. iss fact that two doors opened through a wooden partition across the oack of the room. And from behind one hese doors came the sound of machinery, the rhythmic clatter and thump of what could be only a bed press m operation. " Got a printin* plant back there? " he somnolently inquired as he sniffed the betraying smell of benzine. bure, said the other man, pulling open one of the desk drawers and flinging a form-pad on the battered table-top. His next movement was one of impatience. You sign here," he said as a stubby forefinger touched the bottom of the pad. ^ "I do a little printin' myself," amiably persisted the new recruit. He sat stiffly down at the desk and took up a pen. Then he leaned close over the form, possessed of a sudden desire to conceal his face. Fo^ on the floor, at one end of the desk where he sat, stood a gallon can — a can from which the top had been can .estified to the fact that it must recently have Kid ohve oih And oil, Kestner knew, could have been poured readily enough from the unsealed spout m a corner of the severed top. What startled him, I'ow.ver, was the discovery that the can bore the same ^tan,p as those winch had been stored full of sand and pTio^o ^^"^^^^ printing-plant at pnnted form and scrawHngly attached a signature to Z y^^'^l^^' absentminded as his appearance implied. He could see that the shooting-gallery abovestair. was merely a trap to gather in adventure 234, THE HAND OF TEillL ous roustabouts and beach-, or.il'ii nnd strike-break- ers. These worthies were apparently being drafted for some dubious expedition into Latin- American poli- tics. What that expedition was did not {greatly in- terest the man who had so recently sworn allegiance to the cause. What held his attention was the fact that this movement was being financed by spurious Lambert money, that he himself carried two of those counter- feit yellowbacks in his pocket, and that the murderer of Morello had in some way associated himself with the brick-skinned man in front of him. Kestner still leaned sleepily over the desk-top. He was demanding of himself what deal Lambert in his desperation could have made with thus adventurer from the Tropics. " Gi' me a dollar a day extra," he languidly sug- gested, " and I'll do your printin' for you." " You're a day too late," announced the other. " And you said you wanted to sleep off that head." " I sure do. I never got a wink las — " He stopped speaking, for the telephone bell beside him shrilled out its sudden summons. The man in the Stetson hat very promptly lifted the transmitter away from tlie desk-top and took down the receiver. " Yes," he answered over the wire. " Sure. . . . This is Burke. . . . Sure. ... An Italian named Carlesi . . . ever since morning. . . . Yes. . . . Car- lesi. . . . Search me. . . . All right. . . . Any old time. . . . Suie. . . . Sure!" Kestner, still sitting at the desk, rubbed a heavy forehead. THE HAND OF PERH: fiss « I thought you were goin' to let me get where it was quiet for a couple of hours," he complained. The man in the Stetson hat had taken the topmost sh.ot fron-. the pad, folded it up, and placed it in his " •Ule. He stood for a moment or two without speak- ing, his alert little eyes studying the other man's stooping shoulders. The silhouette of that somnolent figure seemed to reassure him. "AH right," he said as he crossed the room and unlocked the door that led into what seemed to be a narrow passageway to tlie left of the printing-room. ^ ou can have my whole private office." " Me for the hay ! " announced Kestner. He ffot Zor "^^^^ ^ 1 "/t u'''*.f ^'^^'^ ^"^ended his new-found host but I've put in a night or two myself on that bit of counter along the wall." "It locks good to me," responded Kestner as he sleepily unlaced his square-toed shoes and slipped them off. Then he made a show of clambering heavily up on the counter-top. He yawned again as he covered Ins k gs with a worn and paint-stained square of tar- pauhn. ^ "Sleep tight " he heard the stranger call back to him as he closed the door - and the man on the coun- ter suddenly lifted his head, for he felt sure of a touch ot mockery m that apparently blithe-noted farewell then a sensation not altogether conducive to quiet repose sped through Kestner's body. He had dis- tinctly heard the sound of a key being turned in the 286 THE HAND OF PERIL lock and then withdrawn. That meant he had been made a prisoner. And the Secret Agent was further conscious of the somewhat disconcerting fact that in taking his departure the man in the Stetson hat had also carried away with him a pair of square-toed shoes which obviously were of no immediate use to a sleeper. in Kkstxee kj stretched out along his counter-top. arcfuUy considering his predicament. Steadily, from he next room, came the consoling clank and pound of he bed press. Occasionally from the shooLg-gal- leij in the adjoining building crept the thin and muf- fled bark of the target-rifles. Now and then, too, he could hear the faint drone of a steamer whisUe some- where out on the East River. But beyond this nar- row cant^. a oi noises no enlightening sounds came to He waited a few minutes, to make sure he was not emg watched. Then he slipped quietly f rom ^h coun er-top, walked noiselessly to the door, and cau- irlC^Tole^^^ " ^-^^ cha^h J^'^'l- 1^7^^. the narrow hamber m wh,ch he found himself a prisoner. High yarded with bar-, ron sunk in the masonry. A few n an. T K "'"^ ^^"^^ ^ white-washed plane of unbroken brick, but nothing else. P.Hilrorf''" "V^ P^'"^^"^— «tood a wooden along cracks in the bo;.rds he coM^d -rV- ■ [ mer of light, presumably from an electric'buib'swung $»8 THE HAND OF PERIL above the busy hand press. But no crevice was broad enough to permit him a glimpse of that room which he so wished to inspect. The front of his narrow prison was shut off from the outer office by a partition of pine no heavier than that which ran along the side. And Kestner, when he realised that it would require no great effort to force a way through a barrier so flimsy, felt less disturbed in spirit. The worthy in the Stetson hat, he con- cluded, had merely taken an ordinary precaution to keep a new and untried recruit under surveillance. He had not imprisoned an acknowledged enemy. He had merely impounded an unstable adventurer who could later be made to serve certain desired ends. Kestner returned to his study of the little chamber. Except for tiie counter and the tarpaulin he found it as bare as a cell. The one thing that worried him now was the loss of his shoes. But a source -k" even greater perplexity was the fact that he could see noth- ing of the printing-room next to him. And to in- vestigate that printing-room was his first business in life. He explored the partition wall, foot by foot. Then he took out his pocket-knife, squatted down at the in- ner end of the counter, and found two boards where the tongue and groove of the matched pine did not come close together. He cut away the wood along this narrow fissure, timing each knife stroke to synchronise with the clank of the press. Each sliver and shaving of pine was brushed carefully up and hidden beneath the counter- end. And a ten-inch shift of the counter, he saw THE HAND OF PERIL fS9 when he had finished, could easily hide all siffna of work. But that work resulted in a quarter-imh crevice which commanded a reasonably clear view of the next room. Ami Kcstner, leaning forward, could see the shock-headed dome of a middle-aged man at work above the hand press, picked out by the light from an unshaded electric bulb. On shelves beyond the press stood a litter of grey camp-blankets and waterproofs and wooden boxes that looked suspiciously like cases of ammunition. One corner of the room was piled high with larger boxes. A couple of these had been broken open, apparently for inspection. From the un- sealed end of one protruded the stock of an army car- bine. Exceptional and significant as this merchandise ap- peared, it did not interest Kestner so much as did the man at work beside the press. He watched that man as he carefully re-inkod his rollers and continued to feed m his sheets of cinnamon-brown bond paper, some eight or nine inches square. He watched the stooping- si. ouldered and swarthy-skinned worker as he held one of these squares up to the h'ght, examined it with his sMuinting and red-rimmed eyes, »,nd then proceeded to adjust a platen-shaft wliich seemed to be givin«r him trouble. As the pri' te returned to his task of runnin- his nnnamon-brown squares through the press K tner awoke to a roulisation of just what was taking place behind the closed door of that cellar work-room. Those sheets of tinted bond, the Secret Agent decided, could be used fo*- just one purpose. He had surmised THE HAND OF Fk^ULL it even before he caught sight of the oddly prepared shade of ink and the figures and letters so freshly im- pressed on the sheets themsehi s. thi t huinbl'' little cclln i -rooni wa- bung err it th( .11' ' icy of ai ii. pending llopuLlii , rroiu eigiit photuM'ngraved plates, in one block, the mar at the pr".ss 'v is busily print- ig forty-peso " sMn-j i-icrs.'* A'i, tes, Kostr' su'idenly r'^nioiT her- ']. " r an ii j^r al part of t' use to whic i he iuniself had so r ct ntly sw( rn all' ,iance. He was reminded of the imminence of this cause by the Slid kn thump of n clo>ed door, the sound of steps* and then the mur nur ' f hurried vo'"es from the room to the front. ? he ret Agent Tept back to the transverse partition that >hui off his narrow cell and pressed an ear flat against the pine boards. In tiiat position he was ible to tni ke out tbe cle -cut ones of the man wiio had firat spoken to him in the shootisg- gallery above. ** But I've got business of my own to wind up lere,** he was complaining. ** I've got to gather i p another couple o' dozen nicn. Tiu'n I've got tr jet sixt I'^i- o' wind-mill eq; pirifnt abi ird, and r at^ed with those phony g i-^njine engines o' ** But I tell you, Burke, I've gof t o g or here!" At the fir * sound of i at voice, so ered in tone, iCestner^s il ■ > T.ai' b. -neaki " And I've got to get iwa^ i. oiu li* o." it w Burke's voice speaking this time. **An Vve got a few palms to grease before I can get clea nee." *^ But when we made onr de»! you agreeu to get me THE fAND OF PERIL 241 away, «nd gci n- auay wiHiouf any u ,ting," retorted the unj^tic-^ oice of Lambe rt. Kesner, behind his thin screer >{ .latched pine, remembered that he was withm tw.nty hn of the man who had murdered Mo- rello. "Then th. thi; sr for r , to do," sai,. ?he heavier voice ' the ma,, . alK ^rke, "is to get down to my ilk ap ' p board the Xammiow. You'll ' ^ '■'^ >■ lie o' days. Thei i II push ti ngs thi ug' by Friday noon." ^ -r gather up. .\nd it amounts *o , ^^^n^ ^^.^ ^^^^^ ^j^^^^ ' rw ide of tht Equate, we're on !>* 'ere ^ mge, Kestner realised, in the voice m It seemed the voice of a nervous and arr: d mcertain of the future. It ha. lost its oidtiine lacid sense of power, its full-tl n i reso- nance, seemed now to hold something. unlike a toi'cl " nlead g, an undertone of plain wi not do your gatherin' to-f; de- mi Jurke. I can't do it. That stuff is consigned to a n !< , Morello." len what's the matter with an order from Mo- relL " " I can't get one.** " Why? ** was a moment of silence, -uorcllo's whore he can't bo reached." Then why not work the wharf pe ople.? " "I took the risk and went to the Brooklyn p; r. They telephoned somewhere to verify my statement. iti/Si THE HAND OF PERU. Then they told me the shipment would have to be held. And I can*t keep dodging around this town in daj- light." " I imagined that," was the other's laconic retort. " If we get that stuff, I've got to get it myself." ** Well, that wouldn't be so much of a stunt. There's no time-lock on it." " It's held and guarded in a bonded warehouse." " S'posin' it is. I've got a couple o' river junkies who can get into anything along the waterfront." " But I must handle those cans myself. We must have the right ones. We don't want seven hundred gallons of olive oil mixed up with that shipment of paper." " Which means you'll have to get into that ware- house." " Then tell me how. For God's sake, tell me how ! " "How? Why, I'll get you two or three men who can slip in under with a muffled kicker and cut out one of those six-inch floor-planks." ** But there'll be a watchman there at the street end of the pier — perhaps two of them." Kestner could hear the easy laugh of the man called Burke. « Whitey McKensic'll fix that for you. He's got a trick o' cuttin' out a pier-plank and asphalt over-lay with a brace and bit, goin' through eight inches of oak without makin' more noise than eatin' through a cheese — just gets up between a couple o' stringers and runs a row o' holes across a plank. Then he runs another row close together, about flircc foot from the first row. Then he chisels that block free, lets it drop THE HAND OF PERIL S46 out, and crawls up through the hole. He drops what he wants into his boat, slips down with the tide, and unloads at a Bath Beach fence." " But all that taker time,'* complained the restless- souled Lambert. " I've seen Whitey take a half-inch ship auger, bore up through a pier floor, tap an eighty-gallon brandy- cask, and drain it off and get away in half an hour's time." " Then the sooner I get through the floor the bet- ter. How about to-night at eleven ? " There was a moment or two of silence. Tide's against us.** "'^hen twelve? " " Too early. About four in the momin' would be the best'* Then came still another silence. " Hold on a minute ! Why couldn't you wait until about half-past nine to-night, go to their watchman with an order from the office, and get inside and stay there until Whitey gives a signal? *» " Where would I get the order? ** Lambert, it was plain, was not his usual inventive and expeditious self. The other man even laughed a little. " Ain't you a scratcher? Couldn't you work a lit- tle Jim the Penman stunt on that wharf bunch? '* " If you can get me a letter-head.** *' Sure I can." " That would give me time to sort out the paper and get it baled together ready for handling." "There's just one thing," objected the man called Burke. THE HAND OF PERIL « What's that? " demanded Lambert. His question remained unanswered, for at that mo- ment a door opened and a youthful and nasal-noted voice, apparently that of Jigger, was heard to call out from the head of the stair-way : " Yes, ma'am, he's here all right." IV The tableau which must have succeeded that unex- p c ed speech was lost to Kestner. He was conscious only of the sudden silence, prolonging itself until it became epochal And that silence, fo L listener wa doub^ hard to bear, for he had no n^eans of deter roV uig Its cause and no way of relieving its tension. Then, almoet with relief, came the sound of a woman s voice, tense, reed-like, touched with both de- fiance and determination. And the moment he heard Zl^'' ''''''''' '"^^ I'-bert " Where it Carierif ** It was not merely a question. It was a declaration, that wl"°"'/. k'""^- ^""^ ^ect J /t ; apparently di- thn! iL? ^^'^ ^q^ired several moments' ^me before he could remarshal his forces against it. Kestner was further conscious of the fact that the man m the next room had not resumed his work at the press. t„L^ * TP '^''^'^ ^« t''^ light was turned out, and he knew that Carlesi himself was be- coming an interested spectator of that encounter. eries ^"^^ ****** ** What are you doing here? »* It was Lambert*, voice that spoke. In that voice 246 THE HAND OF PERIL was an effort at the authoritative, the autocratic. It was not without the note of scorn; but as a counter- challcncjo it lacked confidence. " Yon know whot I am doing In re," was the woman's aim re lor t. There was an answering and unequivo- cal derisiveness in her voice as she spoke. Kestner could even catch Lambert's movement of impa- tience. " Let me talk to this girl for a few minutes," he said to the man called Burke. "Sure,'* was Burke's airily indifferent reply. He evidt.ntly stopped and turned back as he crossed the room. " I've got to get that letter-head anyway. How long'U you be here? " " It will not be long." There was a barb to the words as Lambert shot them out. " It may be longer than you imagine," said the quiet- voiced young woman. Burke must have stopped to study her. He laughed quietly, for no reason that Kestner could fathom. " Then there's a door-key in the desk-drawer," the adventurer called back as he opened the street-door. "But don't you two high-spirited aristocrats get messin' up my office, or you'll be sorry you came." Kestner could hear the sound of the door as it closp'^. Then came a period of silence, pregnant, dis- turbing, ominous. " Now what do you want? " Lambert was heard to ask. There was quietness in his tone by this time, but there was also menace. ** I want Carlesi." THE HAND OF PERH. 247 "Mj business is with Carlesi," was her uncompro- mising retort. "And also with me." "It will never again be with you." Her voice shook with a tremolo of restrained passion. " Don't be too sure of that." " I'm sure now of only one thing." "Are you? " he mocked. " That's of your life-time of lying and cheating and cowardice, of your utter baseness." " And you're through with all that? " he taunted, tained"" '"'^ " passionately main- " Don't be too sure of yourself," he suddenly cried out to her " You're in the mess as deep as I am. You re marked, and you know it. And you can't eet away from this town any easier than I can." ^ There was almost a note of weariness in her reply. 1 have got away from you." "No, you haven't. And you're not going to. YouVe tned that before, and it never worked It never will work." It was words like these, Kestner suddenly remem- bered, that Morello himself had used to the girl CarlS" ^'""^ ^ ^^'""^ ^'"^ ^ *° Lambert forced a lau^. It was not a mirthful one. " Then yo,i've started a little late. Carlesi's been aead for just seven years." "Why should you lie to me — now?" she asked, 248 THE HAND OF PERIL and her quietness seemed more disturbing than any outburst could be. Kestner, as he tried to picture them aligned there, combative face to face, felt that Lambert was not his old self, that his contention as to Carlcsi was foolish, that some newborn timorousness of soul had robbed him of his old astuteness just as it had denuded him of his old dignity. " I know Carlcsi is in this building," was the girl's deliberate announcement. ** And what makes you think that? " " I don't think it, I know it." Then came still another interim of Jence. Lam- bert was plainly not sure of his ground, *' And what do you intend to do ? " " I intend to see him." " Then you're on the wrong trail." " Can I never look for the truth from you? " " Carlesi's on a freighter — on a freighter called the Laminian, anchored down the Bay — on a tramp carrying contraband of war, that's going to take him and you and me to South America." " You know that neither you nor Carlesi can ever leave New York." "Can't we? And who'll stop us?" That chal- lenge was mouthed largely, but there was something deeper than concern in the strident voice. " I don't n( ed to tell yon that." Again Lambert emitted his scoffing laugh. *' Not your cigar-eating monchard this time, my dear!" There was a brief intermission of silence as Lam- THE HAND OF PERtt S49 bert obviouslj drew closer to the woman he was ad- dressing. « Listen to me, my girl,'^ and his voice was lower and more rasping as he went on. « You r«.n*t change your spots or jump jour gang ove ,t. I'm not going to haggle about the past. Bu • • c both cornered here, and we've both got a chance ^or a get-away. Wait — Usten to me. We can get down to Colon or perhaps Port Limon, and strike up to ban oose. Then we can work Rio and Pemambuco and Buenos Ayres until things straighten out. In- side of two years, we can slip back to Europe, and by that time you can have enough to go where you like, and stay where you like.** " Enough what? " There was something akin to pity in her voice as she put that question to him. It accentuated, to the hstening Kestner, the essential difference in their na- tures, the one accepting without protest or revolt a condition of life which must always stand odious to the other. Enough hard cash," was Lambert's reply. Lnough to keep you going the way it kept you going m the past, that gave you the best in tlic land, no mat- ter how I had to scheme and plot for it." " not thinking of the past. I cannot think of It. What Pm thinking of is the future. And my problems are not the kind hard cash, as you caU it, can solve." "Ha, you'll sing another tune when the hard cash isn t where you want it." " I shall thank God for the chance," was her devout i%jomder. 250 THE HAND OF PEKIL " And after that what'll you do? " " I shall live my own life, in my own way.*' " How'll you live? And where'U you live?" " That must be my own concern. . . . And I came to see Carlesi." " Well, find him ! " challenged the oUier, swept away by his anger. Kestner suddenly held his breath, for he could hear the woman as she qmckly crossed the room and tried the very door behind which he crouched. Then she went to the door of the printing-room. It too was locked. But she was not to be deterred by trivial ob- stacles or side-issues. " What is behind those doors.? " she demanded. "Nothing,** was Lambert's retort. " Then why are they locked ? * ' Her opponent did not answer for a moment or two. ** Why ask me ? Ask the man who owns them." " Will you open those doors? '* There was a finality in that demand, a finality which seemed to compel her adversary to a still newer course of equivocation. " How am I to open them? " he craftily inquired. ** Then I shall find some one who can.** Lambert must have intercepted her on the way to the street door. " Would you be fool enough to bring a cop in here? " he cried out, and he was panting a little, either from the exertion of holding her or f } am the shock at the thought of her madness. "Don't dare to touch me,*' she said to him, and THE HAND OF PERH. ft5l again the coerced and icy quietness of her voice was ominous. " Then for the love o' God be reasonable," he cried, plainly consc.ous that the avenue of his escape was a narrowing one. "Then take me to Carlesi." " I teU you I can't do it," he protested, surrender- ing to some final compulsion of fear. There was, how- ever a subter note in his voice as he spoke again. But If you've got to have him, I'll get him for you." I intend to see him." " Then stay here a minute." it foZT ^^''"t breathing, wondering what It could mean. He waited for the sound of Lambert's lu^'- ^"^^^^^ approaching, they receded; they crossed the floor, and mounted the sta^i«, and passed out through the quickly opened ^^''L ^'"^^^ °" Secret Agent with a suddenness which caused him to gasp, as a banqueter gasps at a flashlight taken over hi^ shoul- ^^r The unexpected had happened, had come about in itj unexpected way. Lambert had gone. Kostner crouched there, waiting interminably, tor- tured by the thought that he was unable to act He iTck d '''^^ behind his locked door, debating within himself whether it would be better or not to push through that flimsy barrier sto r'^.'^'^^"^ ^'^^"^^ ^^-b-* -hile they tood within the same walls. For Lambert, he had in- stmctively felt, would never return to that room. V JcsT wliy Kcstncr hesitated was not quite clear to himself. To break through a pine door, he knew, was easy enough, but it was not so easy to face the pre- dicament of appearing ridiculous in Maura Lambert's eyes. His intrusion now could never be a dignified one. Among other things he was sadly in need of his s],oes — and few men can hope to be impressive without thoir footwear, lie was also a little ashamed cf his rusty brown apparel. But he was more ashamed of the thought that around him would necessarily hang the odium of the eavesdropper, of the spy and lurker be- hind closed doors. He dreaded to face the woman in the next room. He would seem »loubly ignoble before her now, swept as she was by her expiatory passion of renunciation. She was in some way above him, ex- alted by an emotion which he could not share with her. She was facing the light, for the first time in her life, and in that hour of illumination he himself would cut but a sorry figure. For a moment or two the Secret Agent almost hated his calling. But all thought on the matter was ended by an abrupt movement from the next room. Kestner had no means of determining just what had prompted Carlesi's action. There was nothing to show that any sign or word had been passed in to the Italian in the printing-room. But some message, Kestner felt, must 262 THE HAND OF PERIL S58 have been given and received, to bring about so new a course of action. There was the sound of a light switch being snapped on, the grate of a key turning m a lock, and tli, door of the printing-room was sud- denly thrown open. This was followed by a silence of several seconds, and then from the startled girl came a cry, low in note, yet .hot through with a timbre which caused a small thrill to speed through Kestner's crouchinxr body. * " Cariesi! ** She repeated the word more quietly, as though it were balm to her breast, as though she were hugging to her soul some truth which could never be taken away from her. Kestner could see nothing. He no longer had any definite idea as to their positions. But he knew they were talking in Italian now, volubly, excitedly, fever- ishly. Si e was a sniling him with anxious questions and demands. His answers, at times, s-omed equivo- cal and circuitous. He kept hedging and contradict- ing himself, but by sheer force of will she was finally wringing the truth from ' im, forcing from his reluctant hps a confirmation of what MoreUo had already told her. It was only brokenly that Kestner could follow the hurrying interplay of their talk. But he gathered tliat Carlesi had opeiud liis shirt-tront and w.s show- ing the girl a bullet scar there, the scar which she her- self had made. Then Kestner became instinctively aware of the fact that Carlesi's manner had changed. What caused 254 THE HAND OF PERIL ii that change the eavesdropper had no way of telling. But it wa8 transparent enough that Carlesi was pro- testing that he was an old man, that he was broken in health, that his bullet wound had left him with a weak uiig. lie b(<^iin to whimper for money, pro- testing that the girl had plenty and that all he needed was enough to get out of the country, to where it was warm and his cough could be cured. The listener behind the closed door could hoar the girl promising him her help, protesting she would give him what she could. The tones of her voice struck Kestner as being strangely impetuous and exalted, as though the consciousness of some great deliverance had lifted her high above the things of everyday life. Yet something about the answering voice of Carlesi toudied the listener wit^ disquiet. It brought that listewr's ear closer against the wooden partition, in a panic to catch every sound that might pass between the couple so completely hidden from his \]fv. Yet what took place he could not altogether de- cipher. He only knew there was the sound of a sud- den gasp from the girl, followed by an oddly choked little cry, as though a hand had been pressed over . er mouth at the very moment she was about to call out. Then came a sharp concussion of the partition-boards and tile equally sharp sounds of two bodies struggling together. Kestner no longer hesitated. He stepped quickly back from tiic locked door ai i, throwing himself for- ward, shouldered against it with all his weight. That impact burst it open as readily as though it had been made of cardboard. THE HAND OP PERIL 255 Ho was in time to see C irlcsi ffrappling and 'wist- ing and catching at the girl's body — and he 1 indly recalled that there had been too much of this primal and animal-like contention, of thi» underworld assault of body against body. One gross ann, he saw, was ibout the gf "s head, and a blackened and ink-stained hand clamped over her mouth. And she was being forced back ai^ainst the metal of the bed press, calmly, vindictively, while Carlesi plainly deliberated as to the best manner of making her a prisoner. The sight of that uneven stru^r^rle, of a body so ontaminated confronting one so incongruously frag- ile, angered Kestner beyond all reason. It sent a blind surge of rage through his veins, seeming to ex- plod, like a bomb in the very core of his brain. He hud no recollection of catching up the type-bar which he afterwards found in ius hand. He faintly remem- bered the dull soi n, ' ct the impact as that bar de- scended on the forwarr' r>f head with its mat of un- kempt and crow-blar He saw the Italian r;o down like a clouted rahr.,L, He saw the girl ler. ; n-ivk against the press-wheel, and then stagger . '.tf' :.ci g- nise him. She was pan-u , > and weal, and it was several seconds before she could compel her gaze to ek out the huddled figure on the paper-littered i";')or. "YouVe kiUed him!" she gasp ' in a little more than a whisper. Then she looked at .vestner long and steadily, without moving. 2256 THE ILASD OF TKRIL "It's you, this time!" she moaned, as she stared helplessly about licr. Kcstncr laughed, hysterically, foolishly. It seemed life again, that plunge into action after such a;ons of silence and waiting. *' Killed him? " he cried as he stooped forward and slapped about the inert hip of the stunned man. "I ought to have killed him," ho added as he drew Car- lesi's revolver from its hidden pocket. " Is he dead? '* she quavered. Her hand was groping blindly about until it rested on one of the carbine-cases. " He's no more dead than lie was when Lambert said you*d shot him. And we know how dead tliat was!" Kestner had already dropped to his knees and was busily engaged in unlacing the unconscious Italian's shoes. But his glance wandered to the white-faced woman, and still again there swept over him the in- effaceable conviction of her bodily beauty, the sense of that inapposite fineness of fibre which unfitted her for such scenes as this, just as it had unfitted her for the ways of the underworld into which she had been thrust. "But what does it all mean?" she asked as she stared at Kestner's stooping figure. " It means that Lambert tipped this man off to act just as he's actt d. And it means, now, we both know who Lambert is and what he is." She had dropped into a wooden chair on the far siue of the hand-press and was mopping her stained mouth witli a foolishly small handkerchief. She itared at him a little vacantly as he quic/Jy pulled on THE HAND OF PERIL 257 the Italian's shoes and feU to lacing them up. The feverish hnste of his movements seemed to puzzle her. What arc you going to do? " .^I,e finally asked. " I'm going to get ready for Lambert," was his an- swer. ** But he'll never come back." " Then I'll go for him." Kestner was on his feet by thi.s time, dodging across the room. He found re- lief in quick movement, for he was not so cahn as he pretended to be. " But where can you go? '* " It won't be far," said Kestner as he dodged out to the telephone and caught up the receiver. Carlesi, he saw, had moved one hairy arm a little. There was no time to be lost. He dodged back to the printing-room door and stood there with his hand on the knob. The girl saw that he was waiting for her to step to the outer room. It was not until he liad closed and locked the print- ing-room door that she turned slowly about and faced him. He could see that she was steeling herself to a final composure which was not easy to achieve. " What must I do? " she asked him. Kestner, who had been disconsolately studying his ill-fitting shoes, looked even more disconsolately up into hi r face. He stared at the shadowy violet-blue lu- moved to adjust the THE HAND OF PERIL 259 veil about her hat-brim. He had tried in vain to keep his voice from shaking as he spoke. " You said once that the world was small," she be- gan, in little more than a whisper. Then she stopped, hesitating. He realised, at that moment, how they were proceeding by indirection only, how vast were tho reservations which dare not be forgotten, how di- vergent were the lives confronting each other across a narrow desk-top in that water-front cellar. But the desolation in his heart seemed more thtm he could en- dure. " We may meet again," she was saying. " Some time when I can meet you without — without shame." She wf.s at the bottom of the steep little flight of steps thi'.t led to the street and liberty. One hand was on the rusty iron railing. He could have reached out and taken it. But he made no effort to stop her. " We shall meet again ! " he cried out with sudden conviction, catching at that hope as the drowning catch at a iife-belt. " Good-byi " she said very quietl3\ For one mo- iii' nt she loo, rd into his eyes, and then she turned away. Her fac e, he remombered, was quite colourless. It wore more an air of relinquishment than of triumph. Tin ! ( were no tears in the dark lashed eyes as they Am/./l dow into hi-, for she was already on the fir^t sUp kad.iig to tlu- .tr. . t. But they soomcd crowned with a shadowy wistfulnoss that impressed him as "lore poignant than tear*. And he cherished the thought, foolishly, that in that last visi ! t lonesome. And he wished 1r could smoke. 1 he darkness tliat cncompassod Kestnor was like a covering of muffling black velvet. It was a blanket- ing opaqueness that seemed to shut off the very air from his lungs. It seemed something more than a mere negation of light, something tractile and en- 261 2&1 THE HAND OF PERIL folding, a deepening inky tide wliich threatened to solidify and embalm him, struggling for breath, in its Nubian depths. It had merged into something tangible and threatening, something active and assail- ing, seeming to cannonade the harried sentries of his nervous system with its thunderous volleys of imma- terialities. The silence too was more than oppressive. It had become enervating, exhausting. It lay about him no longer a silence of rhythms, of periodic climaxes and relapses. It was now a dull monotone, a Dead Sea of uninterrupted hush, a cessation of movement and life so complete that it seemed universal, something incredibly diffused and prolonged, a culmination of stillness that assaulted the nei-ves even as the con- tinued top-most note of a steam calliope might. Yet somewhere under the arched iron roof of that huge wharf-shed, cathedral-like in its trick of echoing and re-echoing with the slightest movement, waited the enemy he had followed so far and hunted so long. Somewhere within the walls of that water-front ware- house, perhaps not ten spaces from him, waited the lead'ir and the last active member of the Lambert Just where that enemy waited Kestner could not tell. And in that absence of knowledge lay the core of the Secret Agent's mental unrest, his strain of suspense. They were there, together, in that mid- night building. That was all he could be sure of. Thev were pitted in that abysmal blackness, as men pit game-cocks to fight out their fight to a finish. Fate had indeed pitted them there, but Fate had } ' ■ I THE HAND OF PERH. 263 not ordained that they should fight. For something had made Lambert suspicious. He had grown as si- lent as a hunted animal assured of the adequacy of its .shelter. He had converted thai intenninable night into a duel of silences. He hud suddenly lapsed into utter stillness, — and for a stillness so heroically main- tained, Kestner knew, there must indeed be an ample reason. It was an unending Waterloo of waiting, and it had not been engineered without cause. Once, as Kestner thought tliis over, tlie chill of the night air brought a tickle to his nostrils, and he had to put a finger over his upper lip, pressing it tight against his teeth, to stop the sneeze which threatened to shake his body and fling an explosion of sound across the darkness. This brought a fresh terror to Kestner's already harassed mind. A mere cough could be his undoing; one uncontrolled spasm of the body coiiid crowii las night's work with ignominious defeat. One ti jU-de sound would verify Lambert's suspicions. And Lam- bert must have nursed these suspicions. For it was plain that something had happened. Something had occurred to disturb his enemy's peace of mind, to shake his confidence, to put a stop to his raid on the olive-oil tins in which the counterfeit paper from the Palermo plant was so cunningly sealed. Lambert, his pursuer acknowledged, might he even closer to him than he imagined. The counterfeiter might be within a dozen feet of him. He might l-.v even closer. Kestner might reach out a hand and suddenly find his waiting enemy within touch. Noth- ing could be certain, in that engulfing darkness. All 264 THE HAND OF PERIL Kestner knew was that the other man was there, be- tween the same imprisoning walls as hims"lf, waiting, watching, motionless, confronting him with a stoic campaign of inactivity, an ordeal of suspended ac- tion. That suspension of action was even harder on Kestner than on his enemy, for Lambert was inured to the periodic quiescence of the fugitive. He had always faced danger, as an outlaw, imd under the strain and stress of undefined pursuers had acquired fortitude. As a criminal he had always been sur- rounded by some vague and unknown menace, never knowing from what quarter the arm of f' o law might suddenly reach. And he had ad j listed himself to these indeterminate apprehensions* He h&d grown rec- onciled to the tedium of prolonged concealment. But with Kestner it wis difrercnt. an officer of constituted authority In- had been taught to move promptly and to act decisively. He had always been the aggressor, the pursuer. His nen'es were the nerves of the beagle. He ban always run with the hounds. He had never been schooled in this r.>bbit- like trick of skulking motionii— in prott < tive shadows. He hated the dark. And it was beginijing to tell on him. He wondered how much longer it would have to last. Til. quif'tness seen:. manacle }iim, limb by hnib. Me had never dreai ,. 1 tliat silence could be- come such a torture. He ..new that sound would spell peril, and yet he prayed for sound in some form or another. Ho knew tliat -nowhere in the n. !.,rh. bourhood, lonely as it was along that South Brooklyn THE HAND OF PERIL S65 waterfront, there must be companionable little noises, the whisper of the tide running between the piles un- dcr the wharf, far-off ferry-engines churning from the Battery to Stattn Ishuid, steel shovels clanging deep in tlie stoke-holes of rusty freighters lying at their slips. Across that distant cobweb of steel known as Brooklyn Bridge, he remembered electric trains were roaring and surface cars were clattering. Above that huddled island of unrest, beyond the bridge again, where even midnight could not fix the seal of silence, must swarm a multitudinous crown of noises, like bees above a hive. But none of these came to [hat locked and shuttered ^harf-shed along a lonely and sleep- wrapped waterfront where Lambert and the man who sought him were prisoners. Kestner fell to wondering how many hours they hud been shut in there together, and how much longer tile darkness would last. He had no means of judg- ing the time. He dramatized the coming of morn- ing, picturing to himself the first faint inkling of the first fiiint glimmer of grey. He could imagine the anxuly v.ith which that vague glimmer would be v atched, the tensity with whicli he and his enemy would peer at each other through the slowlv lifting trans- lucent vrll, the breathlessness with which the first ac- tual light would be welcomed, the suddenness with winch the inevitable encounter would then begin. That encounter, he knew, was bound to take place. Lambert, after that night, could never g. t awav. Lambert, indeed, could have no immediate wish to get 'i«ay. That counterfeiter, without scratcher or breaker or colleague left, would never think of fleeing THE HAND OF PERIL from New York and leaving bohind him those thre niilHoiis in bank-notis, still Mahd i heir oil-tins m artfully oic'lit..' with sand and cork-dust. Ant those oil-tius LomJ not be opened and moved with out Kestner's knowletlge. No, Lambert »ns there, breathing the same heavj odour of l)!il(<' MiM occo h ither and spices and tropi- cal fruit hno.s. Ill' exaniiiK'd tluin thutiifhtfuHy, uppers and solo, as a blind man might. And he knew they were not his own. Close bi-side them, a moment later, he found a discarded coat. He felt it over, carefully, .slipping a silent tintrer into its . ockets, buiying his nose in its folds, anil snitHng at it as a hound might. Even before he hdd it up and njade sure of its di- mensions, of its length of body and widtli of shoulder, he knew the coat belonged to Lambert. lie knew then that I is enemy was still there; and it was fair to assume he was not asleep. That enemy, in fact, was as prepared for emergency as was his pursuer. He stood as ready for silent retreat or ad- vance as did Kcstner himself. The man with tl.e a!itenn;ot once did he relieve that cruel pressure. He knew that this movement was final, that with it he must lose or win, for all time. And he had suffered certain indignities, in the past, which did not leave him over-tender of heart. It was a fight to a finish; and this was the finish. Kestneu was not sure of his man until he felt the stiffened body relax and the arms fall away. Tlien he rolled over, heavily, uncouthly, so that he stood straddling the other figure, one knee on each side of the heaving lungs, but with a hand held close on the sinewy throat. "I've got you!" he gasped, a little drunkenly. He still held the great throat with one hand while the other explored the shaking body, every pocket and garment, to see that nothing was there which ought not to be there. He remembered, to his sorrow, that he had come without a pair of hand-cuffs. And from now on he would take no risks. He had learned his lesson, with this gang; henceforth he would act as an official, and not as an individual. And the Law was "It's taken a long time, Lambert," he mumlled foolishly through the darkness. " A long time — but now I've got you! " He sat back, trying to think connectedly, his body burning with its innumerable cuts and bruises. His hip was still bleeding a little. But he knew it was only a flesh wound. He could also feel the slo^ trickle of blood down one side of his stiffened face. What trou- bled him most was iiis thirst. He would have given 287 288 THE HAND OF PERIL up anything but Lambert for a glass of ice-water. And he crouched still closer over his captive. " You're mine," he repeated. The thumb of his left hand, which had been bitten deep by the other's teeth, throbbed and smarted with pain. His lip was torn. His breath was still coming in gasps. The ache of utter woarimss was in all his limbs. But the ordeal was over, and he sat there dully and foolishly happy. Then he tightened his hold on Lambert and lifted him to a sitting posture. He was able to stagger to his feet with that inert enemy, always making sure of his hold. That enemy's arm, as Kestner swayed with him there for a moment or two, was swung back and twisted oddly behind the other's waist. Small- bodied policemen may occasionally be observed lead- ing huge drunkards stationward by much the same method. Kestner knew the need for caution, for making as- surance doubly sure. He half-led and half-dragged his captive along the dark length of the wharf, feeling his way as he went. When h - came to the little iron- clad storage-room, he opened the door and thrust Lambert inside. " And that's the end," he murmured to himself. He relocked the door with his skeleton-key. This took him some time, for he was a little dizzy and his hands were numb and his fingers shaking. But the triumph faded out of his heart, for his thoughts at that inap- posite moment went back to Maura Lambert. He remembered that he was very thirsty. Then he felt through his pockets for a cigar. He found noth- THE HAND OF PERIL 289 ing more than some powdered tobacco leaves. He thought next of the telephone. But he decided to re- rover his lost revolver first, — and also his shoes, for his feet were bruised and sore. Yet he relished least of all the thought of being there without a gun. He groped weakly about, trying to strike matches on his moist trouser-leg. When he caino to an open crate of ohve-oil tins he sat Jown. He concluded it would be best to rest there for a moment or two, for he felt light-headed, impressed with the idea that the oak- flooring under him was gently but perceptibly oscil- lating, heaving back and forth with wave-like regular- ity. He laughed a little as he leaned forward and turned one of the olive-oil tins over and over in his hands. Then he was dimly conscious of the doors at the wharf-end being swung open, of hurrying figures with lanterns, of the lightening greyness of the world beyond the wide maw of the door, of the call of voices through the cavernous gloom of the wharf-shed itself. He leaned back against the crate, wishing he had a drink of water. But he did not forget that Lambert was safely locked in the little iron-clad storage-room next to the pier-office. " Are you all right now ? " Wilsnach was asking as he handed a pocket-flask back to a second stooping figure beside him. *'rm all right," was Kestner's slowly articulated answer, after blinking for a moment or two up into the face of the ever-dependable Wilsnach. He stared about him for another moment or two. Then he re- membered. THE HAND OF PERIL " I've got Lambert," he quietly announced. He turned himself about, so that he faced the end of tlic pier, wliere the lights were clustering round the locked door of the storage-room. Some one, ae finally comprehended, was pounding on that door with a piece of timber. Kestner started dizzily but de- teiminedly to his feet. " Get that man away," was his jealous comn-.and. " I don't want any interference with my prisoner." " You've got him in there? " demanded the incred- ulous Wilsnach. " I've got him there," said Kestner as he leaned for- ward and began to pull on the pair of shoes which Wilsnach had dropped beside him. Wilsnach, however, did not wait for his colleague. He pulled a pair of nippers from his pocket as he ran. And he ran straight for the storage-room. He pushed through the group with the lanterns as the door gave way. Kestner could see the flicker of his flash-light inside the small chamber. That invasion and that in- terrogative shaft of light angered In .. This was a personal matter. And here was a case and a prisoner that was entirely his own. He scrambled to his feet, stiff and sore. Yet he was ru! ling by the time he reached the pier-end and the lanterns that moved in and out through the small storage-room door, like the fire-flies in and out of a cave-mouth. He fell against those silent figures, push- ing them promptly aside. When he reached the nar- row doorway itself he found Wilsnach blocking his ad- vance. The nippers were still in his hand. He THE HAND OF PERH- S91 looked at them foolishly, as though he dreaded meet- ing Kestner's eye. Wilsnach's lace stcmcd 'leavy and colourless in the uncertain light. Yet there was something solemn and authoritative about it as he clutched at the door- post. He even rt'fusod to move aside as Kestner pushed peevishly ag.iinst him. I want that man," proclaimed the Secret Agent. Wilsnach looked at him almost pityingly. He looked at him for a long time. " You can't have him," he said at last. " What ? " It was more a bark than a definitely articulated interrogation. Wilsnach put the hand-cuffs in his pocket and caught his friend by the arm, just below the elbow. " He's gone! " he quietly ".nnounocd. "Gone.''" echoed the other, now tugging to free himself. " You can't go in, old man ! " contended Wilsnach. " It's no use ! " " But Lambert's in there ! " " He's there ! But you can't get him ! " " I've got to get him ! " The look of pity went out of Wilsnach's face. He cmed to lose patience at the other man's unlooked for heaviness of mind. But he began to push Kestner back from the doorway, step by step. " What good 's he to you," was his almost angry demand, " "when he's dead? " It was Kestner's turn to stare a long time at his comrade of the Paris Office. Carefully every detail THE HAND OF PERIL and condition of that small iron-clad storage-room was reviewed in Kcstncr's incredulous mind. " He can't be," he protested. " He couldn't do it!" "He hai done it!" " But there was no way." *' There was a li^flit-bulb in the roof. He unscrewed that bulb and broke it." " Cut his throat with it," amplified a watchman in a bottle-green overcoat, as he pushed out through the narrow door. His face had taken on a tin^e of the same colouring as his raiment, and he laughed fool- ishly as he puslied back his faded cap. " Cut his throat with it, clean as a whistle ! '* Kestner leaned heavily against the side-wall cov- ered with sheet-iron. " Then we've lost him ! " he slowlj acknowledged. I Kestner crossed to his hotel window and looked out. It was spring, — and spring in Rome. Yet his heart was heavy. The City of the Seven Hills lay before him, bathed in a golden mist. Beyond the soft tones of grey and yellow he could see the dark squares of ilex and cy- press and orange, where old gardens stood amid close- huddled roofs and walls. OS towards Monte Gianicala, where the shadowy valleys were already touched with their purple mists, a stately row of stone- pines reminded Kestner that he was indeed back in the city of his youth. But he had no eye for its beauty. He crossed to the writing-table where his mail of the past month awaited him. He sat down before that pile of duly assorted letters and telegrams, regarded them for a meditative moment or two, and then began his task of going through them. He did so slowly and method- ically. But his heart sank when he came to the end. He was still without a clue. It had been the same thing over and over again, for months, the same wandering from place to place, the same fruitless search, the same patiently put ques- tions. And the answer had always been the same. Maura Lambert had escaped him. A recurring sense of desolation crept over Kestner 295 296 THE HAND OF PERIL as hfi unfolded his pocket-atlas of Europe and traced his course from city to city. He bad journeyed half way around the world in search of a woman, and he seemed no nearer her than seven long months ago when, after the death of Lambert, he had taken up the trail. He had first gone over New York, every nook and cranny. He !iad questioned and cross-questioned every person who had been in touch with Lambert and his little band. He had canvassed taxicab drivers and ticket sellers and station guards. He had inter- viewed pier officials and booking offices. He had studied hotel registers and Pullman reservation lists. He had sent out wires to every city worth soliciting, calling on friends, both official and unofficial, for any hint that might fall into H eir hands. The first inkling of hope had come in a night-let- ter from Cody of the American Customs at Montreal. A woman answering the description had been seen alighting from a New York sleeper at Windsor Sta- tion. A "news-butcher** had }^ointed her out to an idle porter a!= ring " some queen " She wore a heavy veil, and she was travelling alone. The porter had help^'d her with her bags, two of them. But she had no other luggage. That was as much as either Cody or Chamberlain, the Chief of the Canadian Pacific C-iminal Investigation Department, had n able to find out. But the wire was enough to take Kestier to Canada by the next train. There the hunt began over again. The porter in time was found. But he had no knowledge of what hotel the *' queen " in question had gone to. He had / THE HAND OF PERH. «97 I merely helped her to a cab. Then followed a round of the cab-drivers. On the third day a chauffeur was found who vaguely remembered such a woman. He liad driven her to an English pension known as Beaver Hall Chambers, on Beaver Hall Hill. It did not take Kestner long to authenticate this. But the" lady, who called herself Miss Farr, had left Beaver Hall Chambers weeks before. She had paid a full week's rent, yet she had stayed only three days. The one hint worth while was that given by a chamber maid, who remembeied the lady telephoning about painting on ivory. Kestner promptly looked up every miniature painter in the city. He eventually unearthed the ai-tist to whom Miss Fair had applied for work. She had painted for a week in this Philips Square studio, and had proved herself clever enough. But she had met a Devonshire woman, an invalid, on her way to Banff, and had caught at the chance of going West, as a companion. So Kestner went on to Banff. She had been in Banff for weeks. There was no doubt of that. The little mountain town was full of impressions of her. She and the eccentric^minded English patient had lived much in the open air, had ridden and fished and golfed and had once motored down to Calgary. She had also been seen sketching at Devil's Lake, and a local hotel had even bought a couple of her water-colours. By this time Kestner knew the trail was genuine. He followed that trail up to Victoria. There Maura Lambert and her patient had parted company, the invalid being joined by her son and going on to 298 THE HAxND OF PERIL Japan, the companion for some unknown reason strik- ing eastward again as far as Winnipeg. From Winnipeg she had gone to Chicago. There, Kestner found, slic had engaged to accompany two girl stu- dents to Paris, sailing from Boston on a ten day steamer. Then Paris, for causes that could not be ascertained, had become suddenly undesirable to her. She had moved on to Munich. And at Munich the trail ended. Kestner sat absently contemplating his atlas. Then he stared as absently out over the roofs and gar- dens and hills of Rome. Then he suddenly wheeled about in his chair, his trained ear advising him that some one was opening the door of his hotel room. The next moment his heart was in his mouth, for he saw a young woman step quickly inside and as quickly close the door behind her. For one brief second he thought it was Maura Lambert herself. But that fool- ish flutter of hope did not survive his quick stare of inquiry. He found himself confronted by a figure more pertly audacious more casually intimate, than that of Lam- bert's one ime etcher on steel. They regarded each other for a silent moment or two. Then the girl spoke. « Some time since we met ! " she tentatively chirped. Kestner studied lier. It was Sadie Wimpel resplen- dent in vernal raiment, raiment plainly from the rue de la Paix. "Yes, it's some time,*' he agreed, not without a touch of bitterness, remembering the past. "You've quit the Service," she continued. THE HAND OF PERHi «99 " And how did you know that? " Kestner inquired. She laughed as she tucked her veil up about her modish little hat. "Hully gee, there's things we*ve gotta know!" " So I surmise ! " " An' I was wise to you droppin' out, or I wouldn't be here ! " *' Then why are you here.? " demanded Kestner. Sadie Wimpel stepped to the middle of the room. She eyed him as she advanced, as though some dregs of her former fear of him still troubled her mind. Her face had grown quite sober, touched with a de- terminution which Kestner had never before seen on it. " I'm lookin' for a life line ! " she calmly announced. Kestner motioned her into a chair. " In trouble.? " he queried. " Do I look it ? " she demanded, with an apprecia- tive g^nce down her own shimmering fa9ade. " Xot altogether ! " he acknowledged with the ghost of a smile. "But what's the line for?" " For some one you've gotta help ! '* " But who? " Sadie, with a rustle of silk, condescended to seat horsflf. " You've been trailin' Maura Lambert f'r the last six or seven mont's," she reminded him. " How do you know that? " promptly inquired Kest- ner. But his pulse quickened at the mere mention of the name. " Oh, I'm hep to that, an' consid'r'ble more. But before I switch to that I wantta put you wi§e to the 300 THE HAND OF PERIL fact I'm runnin' straight these lys. I'm a Art Im- porter now. ]Me an' Cambridge Charlie 've doubled up. I'm a canvas runner between here an' London." *' And what's a canvas runner? " Sadie studied her eyebrows in the mirror of her vanity-bag. " These Eyctalians don't allow an ol' master to be taken out o' the country. We've got a Dago named Muselli gatherin' up what he can. Then I've tied down one o' the best copyists in Rome here, dom' duplicates of the gallery pictures. We take the copy, scaled up or down to the size we order, an frame it. But before we frame it we fit our oY mas- ter canvas under the gallery copy, an' about once a month I skip over to London wit' the goods. Then we fake a story about findin' a new Roobens, or a Raph- ael lyiadonna bein' dug out o' some moth-eaten Eng- lish collection. Then we re-ship to our New York agent, payin' fuU duty, mind you, an' divvyin' on the rake-olf. Ain't that square enough? " " Nothing could be more honest ! " Sadie disregarded the ironic note in Kestner's re mark. «It's a darned sight more genteel'n the sable game I stuck to for more'n a month," she argued. «' The sable game? " ^ ^ " Yep ! High-Collar Connors rigged me out wit a seven-hundred dollar set o' sables ■— stole from a Mil- waukee theatre-box. I'd blow into a high-class hotel, register, an' leave me furs In the room. High Col- lar'd watch ine leave the room, uti' Hien slip in an' pinch the furs. Then I'd nmke a big noise t' the THE HAND OF PERIL 301 office, an' they'd gener'ly compromise on a couple o' hundred, to stop my squeal. But tLat kept you on the move, an' lacked class. This picture runnin* busi- ness is on a diPrent plane. An* it ain't so hard on the noivcs." " While keeping you intimately and actively in touch with Art," suggested Kestner. "An* kept me in touch wit' more'n Art," Sadie stoutly maintained. "D'you happen to know jus' who's been doin* our gallery copyin' for the last two mont's? " " I haven't the remotest idea." ** Of course you haven't or you wouldn't be sittin' there givin* me the glassy eye," pursued the unper^ turbed Sadie. Then she moved her chair a little closer to the table where Kestner sat before his atlas. " It's the woman you've been fine-combin' that map for," she announced. " It's Maura Lambert.** II Sadie Wimpel met Kcst nrr's glance squarelj-, with- out flinching. But in tliat glance she saw only weari- ness and unbelief and the listless ennui of the man whose last aim in life has led him into the valley of defeat. He was too old a bird to be duped by a moUy- gow. " Sadie," he solemnly and cynically inquired, " what's the game? " " Ain't he the sour ol' cynic? " Sadie demanded of the circumambient. Then t1 c pert young face grew suddenly sober, and into the sagacious young eyes came a look not unlike resentment. " There ain't no game in this. All I say is Maura Lambert's right here in Rome, an' I can lead you to her any minute you wantta go." Kostner pushed the atlas to one side and leaned forward, studying the girl's face. Then his own face grew solemn. « Sadie, how am I to believe you ? " She answered that question by asking another. " How close d' you ever get to Maura after ol' Lambert cashed in last year over in New York.!* " " That's a question I can't answer." "Then ^ve me a stab at it. Just to show wha^ I'm jerry to! That girl slipped up to ^Montreal, an' from Montreal she beat it on to Banff. Then she 302 THE HAND OF PERH. SOS went to the Coast, an' doubled back from Victoria. Then she hit Chicago an' niosicd on to Boston. Did JO . trace along any o' that trail? " "I did,** acknowledged Kestner. The animosity had gone out of his voice. " Well, I'll give you some more along the same line. From Bean-Town she sailed f'r Paris, an' from Paris she went on to Munich, an' from Munich she am- bled oS to Prague, an* then swung round to Milan an* then down to Rome. An' all that time she was tryin' to do decent work, kindergartcnin' some mutt of a school-girl, or paintin' kid miniatures, or copyin' gal- lery chroraos, or teachin' drawin' to a bunch o' pension dubs whose husbands started zooin* her first crack out o' the box, and gettin* in bad jus* because she had a pair o' lamps that'd make any man sit up an' take notice. She ^ad to do all that woik wit' women. She had to.'' "Why?" " I guess you oughtta know the answer to tiiat,*' retorted the girl. "Why should I know?'* " HuUy gee! B'cause she's stuck on yowl That's why ! " " Don't say that ! " Kestner cried out, revolting against the crudity of the underworld phrase, repelled by the freeness with which a thing so sacred could be tossed about. "What*s the good o* side-steppin' the truth? Didn't I see her fall for you that first time you bumped together in our Paris studio? Didn't she keep the Governor from croakin' you when he had you hipped? THE HAND OF PERIL An' didn't you let her go when you thought you had her wit' the goods? An' aiirt she always mooned round aljout you uti' liad blinders on for cv'rybody else? She was stuck on you! An' that's as true as Gawd made little green apples ! " Kestner was on his feet by tliis time. There was a lirt and sophisticated young face across the table from him smiled for a moment. But her manner grew serious as she hurried on with her talk. " An' when she shook herself free that time in New York she said she was goin' to keep within the law. Y' know that as well as I do. Lambert was gone; Morello was wiped out. The whole gang was done for. It looked like the chance of a lifetime. An' I jTuess it would 'vc been — only something reached out an' rattled the skeleton in the fam'ly closet. No; it wasn't a skeleton ; it was a whole boneyard! " " Make that plainer,'* commanded Kestner. " I mean that when Maura got to Paris this las' time she was spotted by a guy called Watchel." "Watchel?" rep ated Kestner. He could not, at 306 THE HAiND OF PERIL the moment, place the name. But he was on hii feet by this time, confronting 'he calm-eyed girl. "I guess you'd know Watrlicl by some name or other, as soon as you lampod his mug. He's the big yellow-haired guy who gntlicrcd in that Coast Defence stuff for the Tokio people an' sold your Navy's col- loiding process secret for big gun smokeless to tlio Germans. Cambridge Charlie says this guy can get a cool half million for the Flamenco an' Terico blue- prints an' the Canal defence plans. But he's canned for America. He can't even get in. An' he wants somebody, Charlie says, who's able to. An' a woman who's a good lookor'd be worth a few thousand to him for that job alone. An' with what she knows o' lan- guages, an' that face o' hers, an' hem' able to copy any paper that's needed, she'd soon be worth more to 'im than any other woman in Europe." " Do you mean to say this man has been hounding Maura Lambert.? " was. Kestner's curt demand. " Watchel never hounds anybody. He's too smooth for that. He jus' does the spider-act, runnin' out a web an' waitin' his chance. An' when he thinks he's got his fly he jus' kicks out one little thread after an- other, until he's gn her tied up like a blue-bottle. An' that's the way he's goin' to tie up our friend Maura." " How do you know this ? " "I made it my biisinoss to know 't. Even Cam- bridge Charlie's wise to what's goin' on. They've got a plant on foot." «A plant?" THE HAND OF PEUIL 807 "Yes — and tlicv'rc ^'oin' to -spring it, an' spring it soon. That's why I'm liorf." Kestner leaned lorward across the table. " How soon.' " " Before ten o'clock to-night." "What's the plant?" was liis next demand. He was no longer suspicious of hor. It w&y lot a time for equivocating. The thought of action ke some- thing innate and long idle in his breast. " Maura's hangin' out in the Piazza Barberini. She's got two or throe rooms there. A couple o' days ago the Dago girl who takes care o' those rooms for her lost the keys. They were pinched, an' by one o' Watchel's men. Watchel wants to get her out o* Rome. He knows he can't handle her here. So they're goin' to work a plant on her." " But what is it? " was Kestner's impatient de- " There's an Austrian ag.nt named Ruhl, who's been diggin' out Eyetalian army secrets. He's beer re- portin' to the Chief o' the General Staff o' the Eignth Army Corps. That's stationed at Prague. They're goin' to take his ol' code messages, an' stick in the cipher key, an' copies o' the blue-prints an* maps an' things he's gathered up. Then they're goin' to plant *cm in Maura's desk. It's ten to one they've got 'em there already. To-night Watchel and two o' his Eyetalian subs are goin' to make a bluff o' raidin' them rooms, Watchel holdin' back until the two subs dig out the papers. Then Watchel's goin' to step in an' catch her on the bounce. He's goin' to pose as the 308 THE HAND OF PERIL little gawd fr'm the machine, an' buy 'em off until she can get out o' Rome an' across to Corfu or Ragusa. An' that means he's got her tied up for his own work. An' it may mean he's got her for morc'n that ! " Kestncr looked at his watch. The old listless air had gone from him. He was once more on his feet. " What else do j ou know.? " "Ain't that enough?" " God knows, it's enough! '* he gasped, as he strode up and down. " Then what're you goin' to do about it? " " I'm going to get to those rooms before Watchel gets there." "And then what?" " Then I'm going to hang the Indian sign on that plant, as you'd put it ! " "And then?" Kestner stood deep in thought. When he spoke, he did so with much deliberation. " It may even be necessary for you to get some one else to copy those old masters for you. I imagine Maura Lambert isn't going to be many more days in this city." There was a smile on the pert young face. " That may not be as easy as it listens." " I'm used to things that are not easy," admitted Kestner. " And there's just one thing I want you to help me in." « Fire aliead ! " " I want you to keep Maura Lambert away from her rooms until eight o'clock to-night." " That's easy ! " admitted Sadie, as she rose to her THE HAND OF PERIL 309 feet. She paused for a moment as she stood powder- ing her nose. "It may help absently added, " to know that this guy ^Vatchel used .,o call himself by the name of Wimpffen ' " Wimpffcn ! " echoed Kestnei , h ■ ^ • 'n^kly nar- rowed eyes and a heavier droop to his meditative lips. " So it's Wimpffen!" Sadie Winipel regarded Kestner over her shoulder as she buttoned her glove. " Cambridge Charlie's some hustler, when it comes to a scrap," she suggested, not without a touch of pride. For one brief moment a smile played about Kest- ner*s lips. " I think I'll make this my own particular scrap," he announced ; and his tone as he spoke was not with- out its own touch of pride. "Then me for the tall timber," said Sadie as she snapped shut her vanity-bag. Ill Kestner's next hour was a frantically busy one. Almost his first move was to wire Wilsnach at the Paris Office, using the familiar Service Code. " Send me Wimpffen's record quick." This was followed by hur- ried calls at certain Embassies and on certain Aides, followed again by a brief talk with two civic officials and a secret conference with the uniformed head of the Intelligence Department. By the time these were over and Kcstner had proved that he was not yet without friends and influence in Europe, Wilsnach's cipher wire had arrived. And the reading of that wire brought a more contented smile to Kestner's face. It was less than half an hour later that an invalid American, much muffled up, made a circuit of the Piazza Barberini, looking for rooms. His knowledge of Italian was excellent, and while he panted up stair- ways and poked about passages he talked fluently of his ailments and wheezily of his dislike for dami>- ncss. But this invalid American was not easy to suit, and many rooms were explored and many passageways in- vestigated before his loss of strength compelled him to give up for the afternoon. It was several hours later that a figure oddly re- •emblinff this same invalid appeared on a loggia over- 810 THE HAND OF PERIL Sll looking a diminutive walled garden bathed in the soft light of an Italian moon. Having reasonably as- surea himself that he was unobser" he betrayed an agility unlooked fi • in one of his years as he climbed over the heavy stone balustrade, swung himself to a nearby jointed iron water-pipe, and climbed nimbly down to a shuttered window. The shutters of this window he forced open with a small instrument of tempered steel tiikcn from his pocket. Then he di- rected his attention towards the double sashes them- selves. These were built to swing outward on heavy wrought-iron hinges and were clearly locked from the inside. A few moments' work with the same piece of tempered steel, however, had the sashes open, and the house-breaker without more ado climbed quietly and nimbly inside. There he took out a flashlight and began a hurried but none the less methodic pxploration of the small apartment. He noted the sleepy canary in a painted Swiss cage, the number of bowls and vases about the place, filled with spring flowers, Roman anemones and narcissi and daffodils and Parma violets in profusion, reminding him of the Piazza di Spagna steps and the Flower Market in the Stranger's Quarter. When he groped his way into a narrow closet and found one wall hung with an orderly array of woman's clothing, he gathered the folds of that subtly odor- ous raiment in his arms, and acting on an impulse that seemed uncoordinated and instinctive, buried his face in them. For one brief moment he drank in a sub- limated fragrance which seemed to leave him both light of head and heavy of heart. Then he pulled him- sift THE HAND OF PERIL self together and went on with his search, more guard- edly than before, for the room seemed haunted with a presence which he could no longer quite divorce from it. He deliberated f o ' some time over a heavy teak- wood desk whieh he and securely locked. He studied this old-fashioned piece of furniture, back and front, testing its panels and feeling about it for a possible secret spring. Then he gave his attention to the lock. Tie was reluctant to force that lock, easy as such an act would make his work. He looked at his watch, calculating his margin of safety as to time. Then he sat down before the desk, balanced his flashlight on the bronze base of a Roman lamp, and began to work at the lock with a small steel instrument not unlike a but- ton-hook. Then he suddenly paused in the midst of his work. With a movement equally abrupt he reached out for his flashlight and snapped it off. Then he sat at the desk, without moving. For distinctly there came to him the sound of a key being turned in a lock and a door baing opened. And he knew it was the door of the apartment into which he himself had broken. He sat there, screened by the desk-top, waiting for the intruder to show himself. He heard the door close, and then the sound of a quick step. The next moment a wall-switch snapped and the room flowered into sudden light. And then he saw that the intruder was Maura Lambert. lie sat without moving, studying her as she stood there, with a japanned tin paint-box in her hand. She was looking intently down at the envelope of an THE HAND OF PERIL 013 unopened letter, quite unconscious of his presence. He could see the same soft oval of the ivory-tinted face, the same wealth of chestnut-brown hair under tlie slightly tilted hat-brim, the same shadowy light about the violet-blue eyes, the same misty rose of the slightly puckered lips. And he knew, as he gazed at her with quickening pulse, not only that she was beautiful, that she was desirable with a loveliness which left an ache in his heart, but that his life had been empty because it had been empty of her. He still sat there as she crossed the room and placed her pa it-box on a table beside the bronze bowl heaped with Panua violets. She stooped for a moment, to bury her face in the flowers. When she raised her head again, she stopped and half turned about, as though some psychic current had carried to her the warning of his presence there. Her bewildered gaze fell on him as he leaned for- ward with his elbows on the desk before him. That gaze seemed to encompass him for several moments before she became actually conscious of his presence. She did not move or cry out. But she grew paler in the side-light from the small electrolier above the table. Then a slow flush mantled the ivory-like texture of 1 ir skin, making the misty rose of the mouth less marked. He could see the widened pupil of the eye darken and invade the violet-blue iris. He could hear the quick and quite involuntary intake of her breath. But otherwise there was no movement from her. And the silence prolonged itself, foolishly yet epoclially, until he suddenly realised the necessity for speech. She put out one hand, as he rose to his feet, and I 814 THE HAND OF PERU. steadied herself by resting her finger-tips against the edge of the table beside her. His own hand, he no- ticed, was not as controlled as it ought to be. "I'm sorrv," he begun, and the very inadequacy of such a beginning brought him up short. He stood there, groping vacantly for the right word, for some reasonable phrase of explanation. " I thought you were not to follow nio! " She spoke quietly, but he could see that it was cost- ing her an effort. And her wondering gaze was still encompassing him, studying him with an impersonal intentness which did not add to his peace of mind. *' There was nothing else for me to do," he finally found the wit to exclaim. She did not seem to understand him. There was still something more than a mild reproof in her eyes as she stared at him. She seemed mystified by the fact tliat he could h.'ive gained admission to her rooms without her knowledge. And when she spoke there was a touch of bitterness in her voice. " This is history repeating itself." « That," replied Kestner, " is a habit history has ! " Her eyes narrowed, almost in a wince, as though his words carried a sting which had struck home. " You should not have come here," she finally ex- claimed. " I had to come." "Why?" she demanded. " Because you are in danger." His words did not disturb her. She could even af- ford to smile a little at their solemnity. "I have been making it my life study to avoid THE HAND OF PERIL danger," she quietly explained. "There was too much of that in the past." " Precisely. And that past is reaching out a hand to threaten you, when you least expect it." She sank into a chair facing hiiu. " What have I done? " she asked him. " It's nothing you've done. It's something you may be compelled to do." " Compelled by whom? " was l:er quick inquiry. " By Watchel," was his answer. She looked up, as though the name had startled her. "Who told you this? " " Isn't it enough that I know? Can't you ever leam to trust me? ** " But you haven't told me what you know," she re- plied, and the familiar tremolo of the full-noted con- tralto voice stirred him until his own voice shook. " There's only one thing I know," he suddenly found himself saying as he sat facing her in the softened light, oppressed by the futility of all further fencing over trivialities. "Only one thing?" she echoed with a timorous movement of her white hand. He knew the time was wrong, and the place was strong, but he could not keep back the words. " The only thing I know is that I love you, that I've Inved you from the first day I saw you. I've known that through every hour of the time I've had to act as your enemy, and now that I've found you I know it more than ever.'* His voice was quite steady by this time, but the colour had gone from his face until it was ahnost as 316 THE HAND OF PERIL pale as that of the ivory-browed woman before him. She not move as she sat there ; yet he could see the quickened rise and fall of her bosom ^ « You should not say these things," she said, strug gling to achieve a cahn as complete as his own. " But I've got to say them," he contended. I ve followed you half way round the world to say them." "ad clasped together the hands that lay m her lap and then un.lasped them, with u -^^^ fj^^wl hopelessness. Yet somewhere deep in ^l^^^J/ eyes was a light which made them less rebellious, less combative. :f Ho? " she cried out to him. « But what good can it do." sue cncu « I love you! and I want you," was his simple r^ ^"^You can't! You canH!" she said with a little shudder of self-abasement. She was on her feet by tllb tL, staring down at him with almost frightened Are you ashamed of me, of what I've been? " h« asked as he stood confronting her. « I am ashamed of myself, of all my life. "Brail your life's still before you,'; he contended « We've both got to begin over agam." "if I only could!" she said with a half-mournfi 'torsurged through him at the sound of the. words'^ HoTtepped quIcMy over to where sWo between the bowl of Parma -oM« -nd ^^f^^^^' vase filled with anemones. She did not frrnkj^J f^^him. But the look in her eyes was almost one ^ commiseration. THE HAND OF PERIL 817 " Oh, you should never have come here ! " she mourned. " Can't you give me a shred of hope? " he pleaded as he caught her passive hand in his. Yet its posses- sion brought him ro sense of triumph. She stared down at it as it lay limp and listk.^s lietucen his fingers, as though in it lay epitomised all that was abhorrent in her past life. She was moving her head slowly from side to side. " There's nothing to give now, not even hope! '* Her mournful eyes were studying his face. It was not their beauty that barbed his body with sudden ar- rows of fire. It was the look of wordless pleading in them, of pleading touched with vague pity and regret for something which he could not compri^hend. It awoke in him the dormant energy which liad made his life what it was, the quick and instinctive revolt against surrender, against quiescence and hesitation in moments of crisis. " Then I don't ask for hope," was his sudden cry. " Can't you see that all I want is vou — you! " She wavered mistily for a moment before his eyes. Then his hungering arms went out and she seemed to melt into them and he stood holding her sobbing body against his own. He could feel each quick and capitu- lating catch of the breath as he held her there without resistance. And she seemed something flower-like and precious, something to be always cherished and shel- tered, as she lifted her face and looked into his eyes. " Oh, it's no use," she said with a little child-like wail. « I can't help it ! I love you ! I do ! I do ! " He could feel the arms that had seemed so impas- 318 THE HAND OF PERIL sive suddenly lift themselves about his shoulder and cling there. He could feel the warmth of her body close against his own. He could s( o the tn.sty red of the mouth and tlu- iHrfrct lino ..f the-, up-pmsed clnn. He was conscious only of an infinite want, as he leaned closer to that mingled warmth and fragrance. His lips met hers, and all thought of time and place and the world slipped away from them. IV Abettpt as the crash of a stone through a conserva- tory-pune came the break in the silence which had (iiisled them. It came in tlie form of a knock on tlie door, peremplory, impatient, authoritative. It brought tlie workl back about tJiem, at a stroke. It reminded Kestner of why he was there, of a mission that had stood for llie moment forgotten, of the dan- ger that might si ill be aliead of tlicm. ** Wait! " he said in a \\ hispt r as lie startal for the door. But before he could cross tlie room that door swung open and a man stepped inside. The first thing about this man that impressed Kest- ner was his size. Vet an over-fastidiousness of ap- parel seemed to lend to the great figure a touch of the effeminate. He reminded the American of an Angle viking in a silk-lined Inverness. He made a figure that at first glance might pass unchallenged through the grand monde of Rome, yet beneath the immaculate raiment and the official-like posture of the shoulders lay some inalienable trace of the charlatan. Kestner saw at a glance that the man was Watchel, at one time answering to the name of Wimpffen, and at still another known as Koudell. He knew it by the small sword-scars on the blonde cheek, by the deep- set eyes under the yellow lashes, by the grim and saturnine mouth with the touch of mockerj about the heavy lips. He recalled certain things from Wils- 8«0 THE HAND OF PERIL nach's wiri', the ni\ir.l( r of Eli liciidorfT at Odessa, the court-martial at Bodcn, the rroviiaial Court case at Vienna over the Galician fortification betrayals, the earlier rumour of a year once spent in Hie penal niiin-s of Siberia, the Livorno |)Iot to -iini£^i,dr tlu- fruits of a winter's espion.if^c out of Italy by concealing cer- tain papers in the colfiii of a British Admiral who had died at Pisa. There were other unsavoury details from equally unsavoury qu i tt is. And niiKnibering them, Kestner also reinoiiihc i-cd that kiiou I(d;.^(' uas power. Yet his enemy seemed in no way discomfited by the American's calm stare of opposition. « Herr Keudell, I believe? " Kestner had the satisfaction of bilioldin^ the deep- set eyes betray one brief second of disquiet. But it was a second and no more. " Herr Watchcl," corrected the other. Kestner bowed. " It's some time, Herr Watchel, since we've had the pleasure of meeting." " It is," admitted Watchel. But the grim line of his mouth did not relax. "At that last meeting, you may remember, I had occasion to inquire as to your particular business of the moment. I must now repeat that inquiry." Watchel's movement was one of brusque impatience. " My business is my own," was his coldly enunciated retort. " In this room and the • sonce of tliis lady " — Watchel snifiFed audibly at i\estner*s ceremonial bow — « I fear that all business must first be referred to me." THE HAND OF PERIL 8«1 "Why? " dnnaiukd WatchH, "That 1 can explain wiion 1 recognise the necessity for doing so." Watcliel made a sign to the white-faced woman who stood so Intently watching thcni. " Get this iiKUi out of here," lu cniiiiiiaTidod. "That," \va-- Kestner's easy retort, "may no: be as simple as it appears.'* Watchel threw hack the silk lined cape of his In- verness. Then he went to the door an(' opened it. Having done that, he took out a t>'ne-picce of heavily embossed gold. " I will give you three minutes," he ralmly an- iiouncod. "Three minutes, and no more!" " And then.' " sufjgested Kestner. The du'i! glow that burned through his body forcwarni d hiiu that all his old fighting blood was again being stirred into life. It was the voice of Maura Lambert that broke the silence. "Please go!" she timorously implored. The un- locked for note of anxiety in h* r voice made Kestner swing sharply about on her. " You want me to? " he demanded, staring at her colourless face. " Yes," she answered. She did not look at him. She was staring intently at Watchel, child stares into an unlighted room through which it uiust pass. " Then you'll tell me why," insisted Kestner. He was still further perplexed by her unconscious gesture of despair, by the tragic light in her troubiLd cyts. " TcU him ! " was W^atchel's curt command. 9ft THE HAND OF PERIL She still stood at the far side of the room, but all the while that she spoke she kept watching the huge blonde figure facing Kestner. " For two months I have been in this man's pay," she slowly and distinctly said. " In this man's pay? " echoed Kestner. "I was alone, and without money,'* she went de- terminedly on in her flat and unhurried monotone. " A dealer for whom I had copied eight gallery can- vasses went away without paying me. I was in trouble about a studio I had taken from an English artist in the Via Cavotir. I had to move to a cheap pension. And even there the same trouble presented itself." " Go on," prompted Kestner. " Then this man came to mc, when I was making a copy of Raphael's Sybils in Santa Maria Belle Pace, for a Pittsburgh banker who countermanded the order when he found it wouldn't fit his dining-room. I seemed to be at the end of my rope. Then this man asked me to copy a signature for him. He said that a copy would be worth five hundred lire to him. I did it, in the end, and he paid me. Then he came again, saying that a friend of his had to have credentials and passport:; to take him through the Turkish lines to Adrianople." " Go on," again commanded Kestner as she came to a stop. " I put him off, day by day, until my money was gone and I was helpless again. There seemed no other way. Then I borrowed what money I could from the piccolo who used to run errands for me. I borrowed that money to cable to you at Washington. THE HAND OF PERIL 9S8 An answer came back saying you were no longer with the Department." " And I never even knew,'* cried Kestner, taking a deep breath. " I made copies of a passport," she went on, " and was paid for it. Then I copied a signature on the official paper of the Austrian Embassy, and was* paid for that. Then this man came to me and said I would have to go with him to Corfu, where I could work with him on duplicates of the Toulon fortifications. I re- fused to go. He tried to force me to go, but that same day I met Sadie Wimpel in the Piazza di Spagna. Through her I got a commission to make gallery copies for an English dealer." "Is that demanded Kestner. His face was now almost as colourless as the woman's. *'Ye8," she said in the same flat monotone as be- fore. Kestner turned slowly about, confronting the man who still stood with the time-piece in his hand. "You can put away that watch," he announced with a steely incisiveness. He did not speak loudly, but from his eyes shone a white-heat of indignation which could not be concealed. " Why can I? " asked Watchel, still making a pre- tence of viewing him with bland and rounded eyes. ** Because Vm going to thrash you within an inch of your life! " declared the American as he threw off his coat and tossed it into a comer of the room. The shoulders of Watchel's huge figure shook v :th an effort at contemptuous laughter. But that laugh- ter was as mirthless as the cackle of a guinea-hen. Kcstncr did not even deign to observe it. He turned sharply about to the watching woman. In the meantime I want you to take a botta Mrect to the American Embassy. Ask for Schuyler there, tell him I sent you, and wait until I come for you." Watchel made a move of heavy impatience. The change in his own face denoted his determination to waste no more time over non-essentials. " She can't do it. And you may ap well know it now." "Why can't she do it? " Watfhel unbuttoned his Inverness and tossed it to one side. « Because at the bottom of that stairway, my young friend, are two officers waiting to place her under ar- rest, for sellin- Italian military secrets to the agent of a foreign power." It was Kestner's turn to laugh. " Call them up ! " he commanded. « I don't need to call them up," retorted Watchel, visibly disturbed by his opponent's confident manner. « You can't call them up," broke in Kestner. " And I'll tell you the reason why. Those men are not there. And they're not there because of my orders. Do you 324 THE HAND OF PERIL 8125 understand that? And from this evening on, Herr Watchel, alias Gustav Wimpffen, alias Adolph Keu- dell, you're going to have something more than a lonely girl to fight against ! " Watchel, with an assumption of leisure, proceeded to remove his iimnaculate gloves. " And what must I fight against ? " he inquired with a lift of the eyebrows. " Against me! " barked out Kestner as he crossed the room. Then he swung about to Maura Lambert again. " Have you got a key for this desk? " ** Yes," she answered. " Where'd you get it?" I had a duplicate made after losing the first one, two days ago." *' And who got the first one? ** « I don't know." " But I do. And this man Watchel does. Open the desk, please." Kestner strode to the door and closed it, standing with his back to the heavy panek. The girl crossed to the teakwood desk and with shaking fingers fitted a key to the lock. Then she opened the lid. Watchel took three steps forward, as though to fol- low her. Suddenly he stopped and turned about, facing Kestner. " Do you know what this woman is? " he contemptu- ously demanded. *' Yes, I know what she is," cried back Kestner, and his voice was shaking. Seven months of banked fires, of repressed human passion, blazed out from him as he spoke. **And I know what you are, Wimpffen, 826 THE HAND OF PERH. and before you're taken back to Odessa to answer for the murder of Eichendorff a few others are going to know it ! You're the cur who's low enough to steal a woman's keys and plant in her private desk a package of papers you thought would leave her in your power ! You're the cowardly hound who tried to drag an hon- est woman into a life that was hateful to her, and you tried to do it by stealing Alfred Ruhl's cipher-mes- sages to the Chief of the General Staff at Prague and hiding them in that desk and then having a couple of Italian agents as currish as yourself hound her un- til she was to swing in with your plans ! That was the scheme, and when the time comes you're going to an- swer for it! But you're going to answer for it to me first! And you're going to do it before you get out of this room!" The big blonde face was no longer unconcerned. The debonair expression about the heavy lips had vanished. The yellow-lashed lids had narrowed over the eyes and the jaw was thrust forward, as though the huge skull had been racked by the pressure of some vast yet invisible force at the nape of the neck. The colour of the face itself had also changed, the blood beneath the cuticle seeming to curdle and stag- nate and leave splashes of saffron against a yellow background. And it was not a pleasant face to look upon. But Kestner dwelt on none of these things. What suddenly but indeterminately disturbed him was the discovery that Watchel's hands were shaking as he fell back a step or two, with his eyes on the other man as he did so. THE HAND OF PERIL 327 " Yes, I'm going to answer for it," Watchel said in a voice that seemed to come from his throat without a movement of the lips. " And I'm going to answer for it in the right way ! " Kestner's eyes had been fixed on the trembling hand that pawed for a moment along the carefully pressed lapel of the carefully tailored coat. He saw that hand suddenly disappear beneath the lapel, and at the same moment his own hand swung down to his hip. He knew, even as he did so, that the movement was useless, that his own -automatic was in the side-pocket of the co;?.t which he had flung into a comer of the room. He saw the metal-flash of Watchel's revolver before he could possibly reach that comer or that coat. He was not a coward, but his heart stopped, for he knew what the next moment had in store for him. His next action was instinctive ; he had no time for thought. He ducked low and darted forward, think- ing to reach the shelter of the heavy teakwood desk. But th first shot came at the same moment that he ducked. He could feel a small twitch at the elbow, as though his coat-sleeve had been plucked by impa- tient and invisible fingers. That first flying bullet, he knew, had actually cut through the cloth of his coat. But he had reached the desk-end before the second shot could be fired. His movement there was equally unreasoned and instinctive as his first. He caught the Roman lamp of heavy brass by the top. He was poaacrsed of a vague idea to smash down the shaking 828 THE HAND OF PERIL hand still holding the revolver. But he could already feel that the action was a foolish one, for the waiting finger compressed on its trigger before that swinging standard of brass could even reach the zenith of its orbit. Kestner was conscious of the quickly shifting barrel being directed at his own body. And he knew that the shot was to be fired, and fired at calamitously close quarters, tliat the small black mouth of the weapon was ordained to deliver its flame and lead. Then the picture in some way became confused. Its shiftings were too rapid to decipher. But at what seemed the moment when the black barrel-end spoke he heard Maura Latnherf s cry, flat with fear. He saw her hand dart out and clutch the glimmering steel barrel. She caught at it foolishly, insanely, as though a barrier so frail might bold back that tearing and rending bullet which an inch of solid oak could scarcely stop. Her cry and the report of the revolver seemed al- most simultaneous. Kestner saw her arm flung out- ward and downward, sharply. That movement could not have been more spasmodic had it been controlled by the quick jerk of p wire. But he saw that his own body had sustained no shock, and he had sense enough to remember there must be no time for a third shot. Kestner was on his tiptoes as he brought the Ro- man lamp down on Watchel's upraised ri^iit arm, for all the strength of his Ixing was behind that blow. It struck true. The fire-arm went clattering across the THE HAND OF PERIL 3^ room and the hand that had held it suddenly col- lapsed. A quick wonder seemed to fill Watchcl's eyes as he stared at his own arni, for from the elbow down it hung helpless. But the wonder did not remain long in the pale eyes, for Kestner's second blow crashed down on the huge head, held slightly to one side. Be- fore Kestnor could strike again the swaying figure crumpled up on itself and sank to the fioor, oddly twisted and contorted, as apparently spineless as a straw-stuffed effigy fallen from a fruit-tree. Kestncr stared for a moment at the tall standard of the lamp, bent like a rod of lead. Then he stared at the man on the floor. Then he suddenly dropped the lamp, for at the sound of a little gasp he remem- bered the fact of Maura Lambert's presence there. She had sunk into a chair, and was bent forward clasping her right hand in her left. The thumb and fore-finger of the latter tightly enclosed the first finger of the other hand. There was blood on her skirt. For a moment Kestner's breath caught in his throat. Then he saw what it all meant. That tightly held forefinger was ■mthout its first joint. Watchel's sec- ond bullet had torn away the entire bone and flesh of the first phalanx. The thought of that perfect hand being thus dis- figured awakened a foolish rage in him. Then through the first black moment of his anger shot a newer thought. It was more than a disfigured hand. It wa« a helpless one. It« power had been taken from 880 THE HAND OF PERIL it. Its meticulous adeptness with pen and brush would be forever lost. All that Paul Lambert had ever taught her belonged to another world. Then a fury of activity seized him. He remembered running to the next room and catching up a folded towel and tearing it into strips. He remembered hearing many steps and voices in the passageway out- side and much pounding ;ind knocking on the door. He remembered telling her that they could get down to a cab and be at the Ospedale Intemazionale in ten minutes' time. He remembered the convulsive shaking of her body as she surrendered her hand to his " first- aid " bandaging, and his clumsy efforts to reassure her that everything would be all right, and her re- newed shudder as Watchel groaned aloud where he lay. " Don't be frightened," Kestner said as he tied the ends of the roughly-made bandage. " I'm not frightened — for myself," she quavered as she stared down at the inert figure on the floor. " Then don't worry about that ox," was the other's quick cry of contempt. " Nothing but a rope will end him!" Kestner steadied her as she rose to her feet. A sob caught in her throat as she leaned on his arm. " Do you know what this means? " she tremulously asked. She was still staring apprehensively down at Watchel's groaning figure. " It means the end of this sort of thing," declared Kestner. " It means you must come with me, and there can be no going back ! " She stared down at her roughly bandaged hand as Kestner crossed the room and unlocked the door. THE HAND OP PERIL 881 " There can be no ^ing back ! " she repeated. And when a rotund Guardia di Pubblica flung open the door he beheld a coatless man take the signora inglese in In's arms and hold her there as she mur- mured, " Oh, I love youl I dol 1 dol " THX END 'P'HE following pages contain adverdsemems of « few of the Macmillan Novell. NEW MA( MILU N FIC i ION The Harbor By Poole has written novr^ if rerr -irknble w..ich lf.)lCtt"l '--r .TCn ' ; Mi, life, bi .- and idea :reL.-nt. endou- infiupnre of • croat , . mr V .vari;hou :' :e lun • .v- in the devt ;puu of hi: w jrk. er-erpriseandef..,jmcy to a ..rt ; Icnowu r humanity. ratit harh n a r i vision in i Americr i r t' "By all odds the be Amr nr. long day. It is earn. " ? balanced, combininc; are ably drawn, strik Tlere in tins vii^-ion c bar world, 's perpi xitic st: Ttmes. iha- 1 ir ideals. a arp .eU e characters ■'rican. . . our moilern "—New York e first really ... a book of th- of New York and Pooie i? snaut.i' New Yo' '^'ibuK "A fine rable n^, pro- a jy me new democracy, past ann 'e presen the future, not only thi ' ut ! the world. . . . Mr. lai.u .' andc nvictions."— count — -W A: ir 00 ind a n ' story, ir laced at < quitf city, n r.agle. \^ell worth V. h that is . jn. ith li. New YvT I c ne hour. ... A !g .e rare books that o be the distinctive : the harbor the glory ugcilier with a new, vast af thought. . . . The New a vast world center ol ideas, ■•—New York World. icst, very much in love with hi<^ Tf and ... an extremely vi, i J ^">jw York is in it." — BrooR- it it gives and the manner in ost. '^m MACMILLAN COMPANY tubUs rs 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York NEW MACMILLAN FICTION A Far Country By WINSTON CHURCHILL Chth, tMme, $/.jo In " The Inside of the Cup," one of the most success- ful novels ever written, Mr. Churchill dealt with some of the problems surrounding modern religion. In his new book, "A Far Country," he turns to another of our social ills and with even greater daring lays bare the truth. The title is taken from the Biblical quotation concerning the prodigal son — " and took his journey into a far coun- try and there he wasted his substance in riotous living." This gives some hint of the tremendous scope, tensity, and human interest of the author's theme. Mr. Churchill has spread a big canvas and on it he has drawn a true picture of contemporary American manliood and womanhood. The Business Adventures of Billy Thomas By ELMER E. FERRIS Clotk, /2mo, $taj A story full of life and action is this one of the busi- ness experiences of a remarkable salesman. Mr. Ferris writes with spirit and with a keen knowledge of business methods, which latter fact makes the volume of more ap- peal to the business man than is the average novel. There is not only a little humor in the book. Its theme moves rapidly, its characters are thoroughly human, and al- together it offers that kind of entertainment which leaves the reader refreshed and cheered. THE MACMILLAN COMPANY PabUih«n 64-66 Fifth Avtnue N«w York NEW MACMILlAN fiction A Volume of Short Stories By jack LONDON Author of "The Mutiny of the Elsinote," "The Sea Wolf," etc. Cloth, i2mo, $/^J Mr. London is mabtc of the short story form of literature. Few wiiters are gifted with his brilliant imagination, and still fewer are so well grounded in the technique of the art. For years he has stood preeminent in this field, each new bit of work registering advance in power of theme and facility of expression. 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Bealby, alias Dick Maltravers, who runs away from his troubles only to encounter fresh ones, is as wholly charming a character as Mr. Wells has ever created and one whose ever changing fortunes the reader follows with un- broken interest. The Wife of Sir Isaac Harman By H. G. WELLS Cloth, umo, $/.jo "Easily the best piece of fiction of the book season." — GrapAtc. "The book has all the attractive Wells whimsies, piquancies, and fertilities of though% and the story is absolutely good to read." — JVew York World. "This time Mr. Wells is very little of a socialist, considerably of a philosopher, prevailingly humorous, and idways clever." — The Bellman. "A new novel by H. G. Wells is always a treat, and 'The Wife of Sir Isaac Harman' will prove no disappointment. . . . The book in many ways is one of the most successful this ver- satile sociologist has turned out." — FolUtWs Magazin*. THE MACMILLAN COMPANY rublisbers 64-66 Fifth Avenna New York MR. EDEN PHILLPOTTS' LATBST NOVELS Brunei's Tower By EDEN PHILLPOTTS Author of " The Three Brothers," " Faith Trc^oo," etc ChA, lam; %t.so The regeneratiot) of a fiiulty character through association with dignified honest work and simple, sincere people is the theme which Mr, Phillpotts has chosen for his latest novel. Al- ways an artist, he has, in this book, made what will perhaps prove to b«» his most notable contribution to literature. Humor and a genuine sympathetic understanding of the human soul are reflected throughout it. The scene is largely laid in a pottery, and the reader is introduced in the course of the action to the various processes in the art. The central figure is a lad who, having escaped from a reform school, has sought shelter and work in the pottery. Under the influence of the gentle, kindly folk f& the community be comes in a measure to realise himself. Faith Tresilion Dtarattd tloA, /mm, f/^ "A book that is distinctly interesting." — New York Herald. "No character that Mr. Phillpotts has created can suipass that of Emma Tresilion." — Boston Times. ** It is a very readable story." — The Outlook. " A book of stirring adventure and sensational experiences.^ -'Literary Jigest. " Never had Eden Phillpotts written so swinging a romance." — Bellman. « A rattling good str v »—Lps Angeles Timet. THE MACMILLAN COMPANY Pablishsrs ; 34-86 Fifth ATsnos Vnr York