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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

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

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

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

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

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

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

" 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.

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.

THE HAND OF PERIL

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

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

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

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

" 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.

THE HAND OF PERIL

** 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.

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.

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

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

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

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

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.'

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

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,<rlit arm, Lambert
had caught him by the hand, forced the prisoner's fin-
gers about the grip of the revolver, and covered those
flaccid fingers with his own nui.cular and bony hand.

It was not until he Iiad forced up Kestner's inert
right forearm that the Secret A.riiit fully awakened to
the imminence of his peril. As always, he had counted
on some intervention, on some moment of relaxed vigi-
lance when his chance should come. But here there
seemed to be no chance.

He saw, in a flash, what it all meant, and how
quickly it could aU be ovor. His position was against
him. The suspended o lation of that over-bound
right arm was against him. But still he fought,
fought every inch of the way, with every jot of
strength at his command.

The third man stood wat-hirig the tableau, his im-
passive and olive-skinned fa giving no sign of height-
ened emotion as the contending forces centralised in
those two quivering arms came into the equilibrium of
nicely matched strength. Then one arm weakened a
trifle. The dark-barrelled weapon of gun-metal was
slowly forced further and further upward.

Kestncr knew quite well what it meant. But he was
now powerless to withstand that cruel pressure. He
knew that the forefinger of that muscular hand, held
so firmly over his own, would contract the moment the
barrel was levelled in the right direction. He felt it
was all but useless to cry out. Under no condition

THE HAND OF PERIL 87

would he cry out. Vet at the moment the revolver
was in a perpendicular position, a f sh of hope came
to him.

It was witli that flash of hope that he quickly and
(lelibprattly did the unexpected thing. He pulled on
tlie trigger with his own finger.

The sharp bark of the revolver reverberated through
the high-walled room as the bullet went splintering
into the fr;uiiework of the skylight overhead. Kest-
ner had hoped it niiglit crash through the panes them-
selves, lie doubted if the sound of a small calibre
revolver would carry much beyond the closed apart-
ment.

Yet that unexpected discharge of the fire-arm star-
tled Lambert. The arm still forlornly straining
against his relentless upward pressure gained several
inches of precious space before the struggle could be
renewed. But inch by quavering inch the fir*' -arm was
again forced up.

" Tony," panted Lambert, " give me a hand ! "

Kestner was only dimly conscious of the other man
sliding up to him.

"Get I s jaws apart,** was the next command
gasped out by Lambert.

Kestner was conscious enough now of gross fingers
on his face, bruising his lips, of knuckles rowelling the
cheek-flaps against his clenched teeth. And a corrod-
ing wave of rage and resentment swept through him,
at the ignominy of it all. Then he clenched his jaws
still closer together, in the face of that rowelling
knuckle, for at that moment a second interruptiori
was taking place.

THE HAND OF PERIL

This interruption took the form of a door flung open
and n white-faced woman calling into the studio.

"Stop!" grasped the woman, as she flung through
the door and turned the key in the lock.

Both men looked up, a little stupidly, their mouths
still open, their postures still those of strained muscles
and sinews. Kestner saw it was the woman called
Maura.

" Stop ! " she gasped, a little weakly. " We're be-
ing watched ! "

Her hat was awry of her head, her veil was hanging
loose, and she was plainly out of breath.

" Quick," she gasped again, leaning against the wall ;
" there's a man at every door! and two gendarmes are
on the stairs! Listen! I hear them coming!"

Morello was the first to stoop and catch up his
handbag. Lambert's grip on the prisoner's arm re-
laxed. He wrenched the revolver from Kestner's fin-
gers, dropped it into his pocket, and darted for his
bag.

" Then the closet ! » he cried as he ran.

" Why the closet?" asked the bewildered Neapoli-
tan.

"The secret passage, you fool!" called Lambert,
as he dove through the door leading into the second
closet. He was followed by Morello. Kestner heard
the soft scrape and stutter of a sliding-panel. It had
been a piece of stupidity, he told himself, to overlook
those closet-walls.

" It leads to the roof, ar. > .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.

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

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

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."

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

" 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."

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.

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.

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<lo it as clear as she could
that the old lady was quite deaf, that she was whimsi-
cal, but that she was too ilthy to quibble over a
matter of price. And Mis, K.^t. ng, having lifted the
child s face and ga/ed into .'-y and innocenf eyes,
admitted that a portrait n. -'u h. attempted an. hat
it might be completed in a oupi- (,f sittings. After
some hesitation, she even ark m aw Iged th& [ the first
sitting might takf place tha* morning.

Thereupon, this b, ing vociferous' explain* 1 to the
old lady, through tlu- ear-trumpet, tlia* worthy calmly
settled herself in an arra-ciiair at the far id o the
big room with its aU but bare walls and u moderated
north light.

There, with the self-immuring tendency of the deaf
she promptly fell asleep. She dozed, ud, led vp '
her chair, apparently oblivious of the further n anM-
ments for the sitting, such as the placing of ti sub-
.jec t ,n the most favourable light, the addition of a
touch of colour in the form of a hair-ribbon, he wh. .-1-
mg about of a bevel-topped diawing-de<k, /-id the ar-
raying of the needed pigments. The nur.e, .f^ig
herself by on of the windows, produced a r-
covcred edition of a Sudermann novel and promptly
lost herM 'f in its pages. "

The old lady in the shadows at the r end of ' e
room apparently continued to dozt behind her amb. r-
c^loured glasses. But in a liglit less accommodatinfr
It might have been observed that nothing which tf ok

THK HAND OF I'Eii

Ti escaped the somnolent eje behind the

plac i ir. the t
amiit. tinted

Till-. eyc> 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 nm<le n»)tc of th >c 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«

ise of

imi stuui

mt.

as thrown ^
the

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

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.

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

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

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?*'

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

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.

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.

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

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.

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."

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

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

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-

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

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

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,

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 ! »*

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."

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!"

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

•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

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!" *

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.

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

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

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<y e-pearl out o* that old guy's stud-set ! I ain't

ever nrhed a -offee poun. I've got a biggt scheme
thai hat, nr" t n. n an' I'lii ffoin' to md it,

or 1 in all i .le ■■ . uert is a Lambert gang cap-
per! "

'* You mf>^^ 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 •

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,"

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 a<iverture, as unconscious of any
complicating moral-code a« «ere the birds of the air

163 »

164 THE HAND OF PERIL

as light of heart, indeed, as a city sparrow, as ready
to snatch at a chance as a terrier is to snatch at a
chicken-bone. Slic was, he decided, in every way a
contradiction of what Maura Lambert stood for and
seemed to embody.

Kestner waited until the taxi was under way. Then
he swung himself up on the running-board, caught the
handle of the door, opened it, and stepped inside.
It was all done so quickly that the driver of the taxi
himself was quite ignorant of that intrusion as the
car gathered speed and took the turn at the next cor-
ner.

Sadie Wimpel, as Kestner sank down in the seat be-
side her, did not scream. She made no movement j
escape. She did not change colour, since the rouge
on her cheeks was too thick to admit of its being a
barometer of her emotions. She merely sank back in
her seat, staring at the intruder with half petulant
and half interrogative e3'es.

" Hully gee ! " she finally and fretfully remarked.
She took a deeper breath as they sped on. " You
gumshoe guys sure give me the Willies ! "

" That's all right, Francine ! " was Kestner's un-
concerned retort. He himself leaned forward and
glanced out through the taxi window to make sure of
their position.

The girl beside him was silent for a minute or two.

" Is this a pinch? '* she demanded.

"Not unless you insist on turning it into one!"
Kestner told her.

« Then what's the string? "

** Eight bank-note plates ! **

THE HAND OF PERIL 155

She stared at him with widened eyes.

" What's the man ravin' about? »» she asked of the

circumambient taxi-hood.

"Eight Lambert counterfeit plates sewn up in a
chamcMs," explained Kestner.

*' Not in my vanitj-bag! " averred Sadie.

" But in this taxi," insisted Kestner.

" Search me! " protested Sadie.

"That's what I'll have to do," intimated Kestner.
He slipped a hand into the muff lying on her knees,
and found it empty.

" ^^^i'*'^ ^a^en't jou got your numbers

mixed.? » asked the pitying Sadie.

" It's no use, Sadie. I hnow. And this is only
wastmg tune and words. I want those eight plates 1 ''

• Then you»re goin' to do some slick stage-con-
junn'!" *

" All right, but I'll get them ! "

"I know a plate when I see it, an' I ain't handled
one since meal-time ! "

"Sadie we're wasting time. J know what I'm
after, and I know that you've got it. Do I get it
now, or do we have to go to Bowling Green and see
captain Henry and waste a nice morning in the fed-
eral offices } "

" But I tell you I ain't got any plates! »»

" And you didn't leave Maura Lambert's hotel-room
ten minutes ago.? " demanded Kestner.

"Rave away," said the resigned Sadie. But she
•tirred a little uneasily.

" Sadie, T don't want to spoil your chances about
brushing cigar-ashes off anybody', vest-front, but un-

156 THE HAND OF PERIL

less I get those plates, I'm going to stick to you until
ihe cows come home ! **

Sadie turned and looked at him. Then she sat for
a moment in silent thought.

" Oh, hell! " she finally said. She stooped forward
with a sigh of resignation. " Just gaze out of that
window for a moment.*'
Why? '»

" Because those plates are stowed away in my
stockin'!" was her grimly indiflPtrent reply. The
taxi-cab had slowed down and was drawing close in be-
side the curb.

Kestner turned perfunctorily away. He heard the
rustle of silken drapery and the sound of a deeper
breath from the stooping figure so close to his side.

*• All right," said the young woman so close to him.
The taxi-cab by this time had come to a stop.

Kestner turned about to her. She had swung half
round in her scat, and her forward-thrust face was
quite close to his. Something about the expression
on that face made him glance quickly down. Her
right hand, he saw, was held up close to him. But
instead of holding the package of plates between her
fingers, she held a black-metalled automatic revolver.
It was a short and ugly-looking firearm, suggestive of
both a Boston bull-terrier in its squat proportions,
and, oddly enough, of the girl wiio held it. Its lines
s. eiiK d to repeat the lines of that pert and impertinent
profiK, and one seemed as unexpectedly menacing as
the other.

" Now, Mi^f cr Slooth," said the determined rouged
lips, « you make one move an' I'll pump your floatin*

THE HAND OF PERIL

157

ribs so full o' lead youMl look like a range-Urget!

One move — an', by Gawd, I mean it ! "

She groped for the taxi door as she spoke, half ris-
ing from her seat and backing slowlj away as the door
swung open.

Kestner stared into that crafty and audacious
young face as the girl lifted the revolver so that the
round black " O " of its barrel-end gaped insolently
and impudently up into his own face. He watched
her as she stepped to the running-board of the cab,
and from there drew still further back to the curb of
the sidewalk.

"Not a move!" she warned him, as she slammed
shut the cab door behind her.

She had crossed the sidewalk and was half way up

the brownstone steps before he came to a decision.
The ignominy of utter inaction, under the circum-
stances, was more than he could endure. He decided
to take the risk. And taking it, he knew it would have
to be taken with a rush.

He was half up out of his scat before she saw him.
She turned fully around, at that, raising her right
arm a little as she turned.

The next moment, Kestner dropped low in the seat,
bugging the worn upholstery, for instinctively he knew
what was coming. The sharp bark of the revolver
niingled with the sudden crash of glass. She had de-
liberately shot out the window of the cab door.

Kestner heard the driver's shout of terror, and felt
the sudden pulse of the accelerated engine as the
clutch was let in and the cab started forward. The
man inside called for the driver to stop, but several

158 THE HAND OF PERIL

precious moments slipped hy before the order could
be understood. And before Kestner could fling him-
self from the seat, the girl who had fired from the
brownstone stops had slipped inside the house and the
door had closed behind her.

A blue-coat who had heard the shot came on the run
from the cross-street to the east. Kestner met him
as he came up.

" There's a woman there in One-twenty-seven we've
got to get," cried out the Secret Agent.

" Who filed that gun? " demanded the officer.

" Blow for help," was Kestner's frantic command.

"Who're you?"

"Rap for help! And get a cordon round this
block. I'm a federal oflScer and I've got to get that
woman ! "

"What woman?"

The officer was already tattooing on the curb-stcme
with his night-stick. The bounding staff of seasoned
ash filled the valley of the street with an odd ringing
call that carried even better than a human voice could.
Kestner remonbered that it was a long time since he
had heard the sound of a night-stick drumming the
pavement.

"What's up?" again asked the still stooping of-
ficer, as a second blue-coated figure rounded the cor-
ner and approached them on the double quick.

" It's a counterfeiter," was Kestner's answer, as he
made for the steps. " And one with the goods on ! "

On the second floor of that house which bore tlio
number of One-hundred-and-twenty-sevcn, a lank and
slatternly young girl was bent over a porcelain bath-
tub, scrubbing ther from tlic residuary tide-marics of
many communal ablution.. H, r hvad wa- hcnt low
over her work and she saw nothing of the n-plondent
and somewhat short-winded figure that darted sud-
denly up the stairs and contemplated her from the
open bath-room door.

"Sis,»' demanded this figure, " d'you believe in
fairies?**

The scrub-girl dropped her scrub-rag and raised a
dishevelled head.

*| No, m'm ! " she answered, quite without emotion.

" Then it's time to ! " was the prompt retort. " I'm
your fairy, sis, an' to prove it I'm going to hand you
over about a hundred dollars worth o' Fift* Avenoo
wearin* apparel ! "

Even while she spoke, the resplendent apparition
began tugging and unbutt. -ling and unsheathing.

** What d'ye mean, m'r r " asked the vacant-eyed
girl with the scrub-rag.

"I mean I'm going to swop with you. Gi»me them
shoes an' that gingham skirt an' shirt-waist, quick.
Peel 'em ofF, quick, or I might change me mind! This
IS your lucky day! An' here's five bones, sis, to seal
the bargain ! '*

Sadie, breathless and writhing, slipped from her

169

160 THE HAND OF PERIL

shiinin. ing cocoon. Then she pounced on the stai-
hesitating houst niai.l, peeled her as a cook peels an
onion, and struggled into the more ample folds of that
borrowed rainunf, kicking her own finery toward the
stannrr-oyid denuded one as she dressed.

" Tliey're all youi , dearie, gloves, a Gimbel h.it an'
all ! Save 'em for Sunday an' you'll sure make a l,JM "
She continued to talk as she caught up the unclean
scrub-rag and mopped her face with it. ** An* don»t
try chasin' me or worrvin' me with questions! I've
got a husband who's gone bugliouse with payin' me
bills an* says I've gotta dress simple!"

Sadie slammed and locked shut the bath-room door
on that still astounded young house-maid who did not
altogether seem ready to believe in fairies. Then she
turned and ran for the next stairway. As she did
so, she heard the street door below give way with a
crash. That sound »prved to lend wings to her flight.

Not once did slu- st(jp on her way to the roof!
There she tarried only J„r.^r enough to restore the
transom to its place. Then she ran nimbly across
the flat tm of the house-top, dropped to the next roof,
crossed that, and ran on until she came to a clothes-
line dangling with a row of freshly washed clothes.
At the far end of this line was a door opening upon a
stairway. At the top of this stainvay lav an empty
laundry bag. Quick as thought the hurrying girl
caught it up. Then she listened for a second or two,
peermg down into the house before her. Then
quickly but quietly, pausing at each stair-head as she
took up her flight, she made her way down through
that silent and many-odoured houite.

THE HAND OF PERIL m

She reached the bftsement without discovery or in-
tcrn,pt.on. There, on a row of hook, beside the door,

she saw a u.dow s bonnet, . pair of oi! -stained overall:
and a faded plaid shawh The shuul she c,,iicklv

IffLT '^^^ ^^'^'•^"^ ''he pro.nptlv

.tufFed down into her laundry bag. Then she stopped
for a nunute w,th mouthft.l of hairpins, while she
twisted her ha.r f.htly together, and pinned it flat

sidewalk ''"'^ ^

As she had expeefed, a l)lue-coated officer wai
posted .otween her and the street-corner to the west.

t.J^^ A " an empty

taxi-cab and a scattering of curious onlookers. Here
and there she could see still mor* blue^oated fiimres
She gaped at them for a mo^. .t, chewing vacT„Uy

•antlyayheblueskylhl^'K: J'^^^

out perceptible hostdity. and >vent 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 ! "

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-

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'

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 :

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-

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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.

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

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 ! "

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

«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 "

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

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

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 "

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

<eS2 THE HAND OF PERH.

" Talk away ! "

"We haven't a trace of the woman yet," began
Wilsnach.

"What woman?" angrily demanded Kestner. He
always hated the other man when he spoke of Maura
Lambert as a Bertillcn exhibit, and there were times
when he half-suspected Wilsnach's knowledge of that
feeling.

" The scratcher for that Lambert gang," was the
none too placatory response over the wire. But time
was too precious for personal issues.

*' We can find that woman best by first finding Car-
lesi. I've already told you that."

"But she's the king-pin of those counterfeiters.
She's the one we've got to get ' "

" And she's the one we'll get the easiest — when the
time comes ! "

"Well, Carlesi shouldn't be hard. Romano has
just phoned me that one of his men has spotted Car-
lesi."

" Spotted him.?"

** Yes, and tailed him to a shooting-gallery."
"Where?"

" Down on the East River water-front."

"And he's there now?" demanded Kestner.

" As far as I know," was the answer. " He'll be
easy to find. A middle-aged Dago, stoop-shouldered,
with granulated eye-lids."

"But why a shooting-g^ilery? "

" That they can't sa^ until some one gets inside.
And they waited for word from you."

« Good!"

THE HAND OF PERIL

" There's only one thing more, Romano says. What
lookii like a bundle of bond paper was delivered there
a few, minutes after Carlesi went in.'*

"That's important. Now describe that shooting-
gallery to nic, and tell me just where it is."

Kcstner listened intently as Wilsnach told what he
knew of the place. Then the Secret Agent glanced
down at his watch.

" I think I can be inside that gallery in an hour's
time. Meanwhile, you have Romano run down the
Lambert taxi number. Put Schmidt on it too, if
notiiing turns up in an hour. I've phoned Hendry
to have all trains and ferries covered, and the City
staff people are watching the bridges and motor-
routes. We can't afford to let that man Lambert get
off the Island."

"You mean if he gets going, now, he'll never
stop? '»

" Murder in the first degree can make a man travel
a long way, Wilsnach. And we've done enough trav-
elling on this case."

Anti ^ ou'll cover Carlesi and the gallery alone? "

"rU attend to Carlesi. But post a man to tail
him, in case he tries to move on before I get there.
Get a man who'd know Lambert if he saw him."

" Lambert? "

" Yes ; either Lambert or Maura Lambert are going
to get in touch with Carlesi as soon as they safely can.
Perhaps Lambert's already seen him. It's ten to one
the girl will try to. And that's why I'm going to
cover Carlesi."

" All right — I understand."

«24 THE HAND OF PERH.

" And in case of doubt, report to Hendry by wire."

" Of course," answered Wilsnach.

" And as soon as you're free, yourself, get around to
that shooting-gallery. I may need you."

" I'll be there," said the ever-dependable Wilsnach,
as he hung up the receiver.

It was exactly one hour later that Kestner stopped

his taxi-cab on a side-street sloping down to the East
River water-front. He was apparelled in a suit of
rusty brown, purchased from a Seventh Avenue second-
hand man, a pair of squ&re-toed tan shoes that had
both seen better days and been made for larger feet,
and a weather-stained felt hat with «i oily sweat-
band and a sagging brim.

He slackened his pace a little as he turned the cor-
ner, leisurely rolling a Durham cigarette and as leis-
urely returning the cottr n pouch to his coat-pocket
He stared indolently and irresolutely about him, as he
stood opposite the shooting-gallery window. Then
he shuffled by, hesit ited, and finally swung back in his
tracks. But- during every mwnent of that apparent
aimlessness he was carefully inspecting his ground.

As he shuffled into the gallery itself he found it
comparatively deserted, steeped in the lull of its mid-
afternoon quietness. Yet he stood puffing his ciga-
rette, lethargically watching two youths in sailor
blouses as they shot at a glass ball dancing at the
summit of a fountain spray. They were shooting
desultorily, and with commcntc of ribald disgust. So
Kestner sank into one of the four red-armed chairs
ranged in front of the street-window. Prom that

225

m THE HAND OF PERH.

point of vantage he starerl casually and dreamily about
him.

He found himself confronted by a long and rather
low-ceilinged room filled with the drifting fumes of
gun-oil and tobacco and smokeless cartridgi s. Across
the front of this room ran a counter, witli a hinge-top
at one end, and at the other an orderly row of waiting
fire-arms.

Behind this counter stood an anaemic and sallow-
faced youth of ibout twenty, languidly passing the
blade of a broken-handled razor along the face of an
oil-covered hone. About that youth Kestner could
find little that was worthy of attention. But he let
no movement of the sallow-faced boy escape him.

Beyond the counter-top were the targt ts, white-
painted discs of metal, a row of clay pipes illuminated
by unseen electric-bulbs, and a further row of diminu-
tive white ducks which travelled on an endless chain
across a dusky and wcll-dcvised background, a cease-
less, hurrying procession ceaselessly inviting the skill
of the most casual visitor. A more remote target
stood at the end of a galvanised iron tube, and along
one side of this narrow tube ran a hemp rope connect-
ing with a whitening brush on a pivot.

It was not until the two boa-faring youths put down
their rifles, relighted their stogies, and wandered on
to other diversions, that Kestner languidly rose from
his chair and advanced to the gun-counter. As h*"
did so the sallow-faced youth pulled the hemp rope
ai. ' rewhitened the tunnel target, switched on the
lights which illuminated his crowded parliament of
targets, and went on with his honing.

THE HAND OF PERH. f«7

Kcstner threw down a quarter and picktd up a rifle.
As he took deliberate aim at om of the moving wliite
ducks he noticed that a door in the side-wall to the

left had opened and another man had > 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.

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<i t'vj- ■ fort} -peso >, 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."

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.

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

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
<jne side, as this wheel half-turned with her weight.
The pallor of her fa. e made the ink stains about her
mouth almost ludicrous. dir' not sr „. to c :>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
<y. s, Ht the misty rose of the unhappy mouth that
seemed made for happiness, and liis own misery in-
creased. Then he took a deep hi oath.

" I am a federal officer," he began, wondering why
it was 80 hard for him to say what was necessary to
say.

£58

THE HAND OF PERIL

" I know it," she said. She was no longer looking

at him.

" And I have certain duties to perform.'*

A silence fell between them. He found it hard to

go on.

" You mean you can't let me go? " she finallj sug-
gested.

" No," he replied, " I can't let you go."
" Once," she said, " you told me I could count on
your help."

" How can enemies help each other? "
She looked up quickly.
" We can never be enemies — now."
" And still there is nothing I can do."
" There is only one thing."

" What? " he asked, staring at the pale oval of her
face.

** You must let me go."
"But where?"

** Anywhere. Anywhere away from here!**

" But that would only mean going out into danger."

She smiled a little wanly.

" I shall have to learn to face that danger."

"But you can't fight a thing like this out alone.
You'll need help."

"I shall have to learn to fight it out alone. And
I'm not afraid any more."

A great desolation was eating at his heart, the deso-
lation of a man who must face failure both before and
behind liiiii.

"But how cDiilil I ever find von!*''

That query arrested her as >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<m of her, he
was compelled to look up to her, mad not down at her.

260

THE HAND OF PERIL

Wilsnach, dropping from his overdriven taxi-cab
ten minutes later, beheld a dcjcctrdly shabby figure in
a soiled felt hat and a rusty brown suit s' u "ng ab-
sently out over the East River, grey with the light of
the late afternoon.

Twice Wilsnach was compelled to accost this figure
before eliciting anv response.

"Wilsnach, there's a counterfeiter named Carlesi
locked in down there,'* Kestner finally explained.
" You'd better place him under arrest, for after to-
night Fm quitting the service! "

" You mean you've got Lambert " gasped Wils-
nach.

"No,** was Kestner*s quiet response. "I said
after to-night And Vm going to get him before
morning/ "

Kkstxer knew it was not jet morning. He also

kiKw that he had not as yet captured Lambert.

There were still other things which he knew, and
one of them was the need for silence. He was only too
keenly alive to the danger, in that strange place, of
the slightest sound. There might be peril in the
minutest audible movement.

Ytt sound seemed the one thing for which his over-
tensioned nenes were clamoring. And the one relief
which his aching muscles demanded was movement,
free and abandoned movement. Yet he dare not so
much as lift his rib-cage and enjoy the luxury of a
good sigh.

That misery of mind and body would have been
less acute had there been some glimmer of light, how-
ever microscopic. The unbroken darkness had be-
come inquisitional. It kept imparting to him the
impression of being disembodied, of floating ghost-
like between heaven and earth, of crouching poised
if Hie lonely centre of some lonely etheric waste. He
f> ! 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 <hot thr, i^rh with the hoinclior ammoniaca!
smc.i from the plunking where countless drnnjTht-
horses had stood. He was there on the lonely Iringi
of the great cit j from which he had fled ; and he waj
there, waiting, watching, knowing that the time foi
finalities could i ot long be delayed.

But the wait seemed an endless one.

Kestner found relief in studiously rc ... arsing in his
own mind each step that had led up to the present
situation. He recalled Lambert's flight from the
room in the shooting-gallery building, the talk with
Burke the gun-runner, the letter's promise to get him
and his three million in counterfeit aboard the
Laminian and in three days off for South America.

He remcmbircd Burke's suggestion as to Whitey
McKensic, the water-front junkie and river-pirate
ready for anything from "milking" coffee-bags in
transit on their lighters to stealing coal from the
Canarsie barges. This sume Whitey was to pick up
two or three of 1.% wharf-rat friends. He was given
money to hire a boat and nh^ to purchase an inch
auger of the best tempered steel. Then when the
tide was right Whitey was to slip in under the Saltus
Pier, with his motor ruffled and his lights quenched.
Then he was to take liis ausf.»r and with that compara.-

THE HAND OF PERIL

tivcly noiseless tool he was to cut out a square of the
flooring big enough to admit a man's body. Through
tluit hole they were to carry off Lainbi-rt and his
lilint paper, leaving him aboard the Laminian before
daylight crept over the lower Bay.

But Romano and his three federal confederates
had been tipped off as to Whitey's intentions. They
were to shadow that gang of wharf-rats and at the
right moment intercept them and hold them, await-
ing Kestner'a instructions. And Romano could be
depended on.

Romano had to be depended on, for just before the
})..nderous doors of the Sultus wharf-shed had swung
shut for the night a "gay-cat » acting for Lambert
had appeared with the forged order from the Saltus
ofhces m Bowling Green. There had been a dispute
In tween this gay-cat and the thick-headed watchman,
ending in an angry visit to the telephone in the little
picr-office. The watchman had triumphed and the
gay-cat had promptly taken his departure. Yet the
iii.'m(ruvre had proved successful, for in the mean-
time Lambert himself had slipped quietly into the
wharf-shed and secreted himself in its shadowy re-
cesses.

Three minutes later a trucking team had thundered
HI over the worn planking. From the truck itself a
pi.ino-crate — duly labeIK-,1 and consigned for for-
^ign parts — had been promptly dumped beside a
pde of lemon-crates from Sicily. There had been
some words between the watchman and the truck-
dnver. the former announcing his intention of not
waitmg all night before locking up. So the team

THE HAND OF PERIL

had turned about and thundered out again, and the

great doors had swung shut.

But durii :^ that tumult of sound a strange thing
had taken place. In the darkness of the wharf-shed
the cover of that piano-crate had apparently taken
on life, had quietly and silently opened, as though it
were a huge bivalve. And from that mouth-like ori-
fice, inch by inch and with infinite precaution,
a human figure had sidled out. Then, liaving cau-
tiously replaced the cover, this figure had slipped back
into the deeper shadows between the pungent tiers
of crated lemons.

It had had its discomforts, that hurried journey in
a cramped piano-crate, for all its eighteen inches of
excelsior padding. But Kestner had not 'given that
feature of the plan much thought. For he had been
satisfied with the knowledge that he and Lambert were
to be locked together in that silent warehouse, and
could remain there without interruption.

VII

Kestner still waited. But he moved a little, to
relieve the ache in his knees. As before, he did so
with the utmost care and deliberation, straightening
his legs almost imperceptibly, inch by studious inch,
moving his stockinged feet out experimentally, ten-
tatively, interrogatively, so there might be no betray-
ing creak of the knee-joint. His shoes he had long
since removed. And in the heavy planking under him,
luckily, there was little chance of a floor squeak.

He moved slowly and softly, yet it was laborious
enough to bring a sweat to his straining body. Then
he sat tailor-wise, leaning slightly forward, listening
again.

Out of the infinite stillness a small trouble had in-
sinuated itself on his consciousness. At first he
thought it was the sound of his own laboured inhala-
tions. Then he attributed it to the blood-pressure in
his head. Yet the next second he was leaning fur-
ther forward and listening more intently.

On his over-sensitized aural nerves that small trou-
ble still impressed itself. He could neither explain
nor define it. Then a running and ramifying thrill
of apprehension swept through his stiffened body.
He rolled slowly and cautiously over on one hip, and
as slowly lowered his torso until the side of his head

was flat against the planking on which he had been

269

a70

THE HAND OF PERIL

sitting. He lay taere for a second or two, with his
ear pressed flat against the heavy boards. Then he
raised his head, listened, and snaked his body slowly

forward, stopping again to press an car against the
planking before continuing that silent and erratic
advance.

He was nosing about one particular plank, by this

time, like a French hound in quest of its underground
truffles, moving back and forth and listening and
again and again quietly cupping his ear against the
rough wood.

He could now hear the sound quite distinctly, a
corvinuous muffled rasp, faint as the slide of a
blacksnake over dead leaves. He kept passing the
tips of his fingers delicately along the surface of the
plank over which he leaned, questioningly, as though
the oak were inscribed with the raised lettering of
an alphabet for the blind and he were intent on spell-
ing out some answer to the enigma.

He was rewarded by the sudden small sounds of
splintering wood, no- louder than the crack of a
strained match-stalk. Moving forward a few inches,
he again fell to fingering the floor-surface. For the
second time an involuntary thrill sped through his
body. His hand had fallen on the revolving sharp
steel-point of an auger boring up through the wharf-
floor.

He knew then, in a flash, that his plans had gone
astray, that Whitey McKensic and his men had in
some manner evaded Romano, that they were there with
their boat, and that in less than half an hour's time
they would have a passage-way cut up through the

THE HAND OF PERH, «n

floor-planking and would be in touch with Lam-
bert.

Kestner thought quickly. He was not afraid of

those newcomers. He could, in a way, handle them
one by one as they came up through tlie floor. But
that could not be done silently. That would betray
his position. It would give an advantage to his
enemy. And Kestner*s one fear now was that Lam-
bert might get away, that something might intervene
between him and the fugitive and his capture. And
it was too late to waste energy on interlopers, and
too late to be sidetracked from his one end in life.

Kestner's first move was as odd as it was prompt.
He drew out his revolver, feeling with his left hand
along the plank-face for that ever-turning point of
steel. When he had found it he caught his fire-arm
by the barrel and the grip, holding it horizontally and
pressing heavily down on the point where the auger
was emerging from the pierced wood. He held the
hardened metal of the stock firmly against the cutting
edge of that revolving auger, knowing that a few
turns would blunt the edge beyond repair. But he
made sure of his job; he wanted that bit so that it
CO lid never again eat its way through four inches of
oak.

Then he sat back, trying to place his position in
the wharf-shed. He guardedly felt the seams of the
floor, reviewed each movement he had made during his
last advance, and concluded he had progressed some
twenty or thirty feet towards the water-front end of
the pier. At the other end, he knew, stood the small
office-room with the telephone. And Kestner felt that

ana THE HAND OF PERIL

his best chance lay in getting to that telephone and
calling for help.

But it would have to be a soundless journey, and
a laborious one. It would have its dangers, yet they
would hiive to be faced. There was a grave mis-step
to be corrected. And the sooner that cu.i went out,
Kestner knew, the safer he would be.

He started on his journey, patiently, laboriously,
grimly. He kept reminding himself that above all
things no sound must be made. He knew that at any
moment he might come into suddei collision with the
watching and waiting Lambert He could not forget
that any unexpected contact with a bale of mer^
chandise or a pine box end or an unconsidered scrap of
paper or twig of wood might betray his presence.
A mere bone-creak might spoil Is plan. A garment
rustle might announce his whereabouts.

Kestner went forward, inch by inch, in the strained
attitude of a runner awaiting the starter's pistol-
crack.

His feet had become tentacles, groping and ques-
tioning for noiseless contac*;. His outstretched fin-
gers were converted into vibrating e itennae, poised
and extended for the trai^smission of the slightest mes-
sage of warning. He moved slowly through the en-
gulfing blackness, seeming to push it aside as though
it were something material and muffling. A snow-
flake fell no more softly than did those stockinged
feet. Each foot-fall seemed an experiment of vital
importance, each forward shifl; of the body became
an adventure fraught with the direst peril. Yet he
continued to advance, step by caressing step, veering

THE HAND OF PERH. 273

his course about an occasional obstacle, sounding for
his channel, shying away from each danger-spot as

a careful pilot shies away from a shoal-buoy.

When he came to the empty piano-crate he felt
like a swimmer who had reached an island of deliver-
ance. That gave him something on which to base a
new reckoning of his position. It brouglit him as-
surance, as the voice of an old friend might, and
permitted him to breathe more freely. So far all had
been well. And every foot that he covered meant a
further guarantee of safety.

He began his journey again, astonished by the ap-
parent length of the pier, wondering how wrong he
might also be in his reckoning of time, arguing with
himself that an hour or two of mental agony might
easily prolong itself into what seemed a whole night.
He had heard of such cases.

Perhaps, after all, it was little past midnight, and
in his torturing anxiety he had translated minutes
into hours, just as during tnat stealthy advance to-
wards the pier-end he had accepted his travels as
something which should have carried him into mid-
ocean, as something which seemed to have no begin-
ning and no end. But he kept on, doggedly, de-
terminedly, unceasingly.

He kept on until his extended fingers came in con-
tact with the sheet-iron covering of a side-wall. He
felt noiselessly along this wall until he had groped his
way to what seemed the door he wanted. Then came
the hardest pare of his night's work. For that door
was locked, he found, as he let his fingers caress the
huge knob and turn it with incalculable slowness so

274

THE HAND OF PERaL

that no click of the latch might betray his uiovementa.

And to open it meant much delicate work with the
" spider " and the five " skeletons " which he always
carried, the same as he carried his watch and his
cigar-case.

That new task would have to be noiseless, and to

render it so meant much nursing of naked metal, un-
counted cautious movements of the fingers, s" ^ and
tentative pryings and tuniings of delicately - aatcd
steel flanges, careful withdrawals and sto^.^g away
of unneeded metallic objects which must never be al-
lowed to clink together.

But he conqueved the lock, in time. Then, with
equally studi as precaution, he slowly slipped inside
and closed the door after him. Then the explora-
tions began anew.

He found himself in a small fire-proofed chamber,
as bald as a tomb and quite as dark. He could even
touch the metal roof, and set in its centre found one
electric-light bulb. But this he could not use, much
as he wanted to. For the emptiness of that little
iron-clad room was a puzzle to him. Then he real-
ised that it must have been equipped as a strong box,
a treasure vault, for holding valuables in transit.

But he had little time to give it thought. His task
was still to reach the telephone. He remembered
that he had lost time, when time might be precious.
He stood studying the matter out. Then he con-
cluded the pier-office must be somewhere close beside
this treasure-room. So he emerged again into the
more open space of the high-arched pier-shed, listen-
ing and staring through the blackness to make sure

THE HAND OF PERU.

275

the light was not coming to put an end to all hii

nian.

liut *:hc velvet}- blackness was still unbroken, and
again lie had to exercise the greatest care as he groped
on along the wall, feeling and padding about for
the office door.

He came to that door, at last, and let a finger light
as thistle-down caress and explore the knob. Then
he pciiiiitted his entire hand slowly to encompass it,
.slowly turn it, and with steady but guarded pressure
determine whether or not it was locked.

To his joy he found it was not.

He swung the door inward, inch by inch. He was
breathing only with the upper area of his lungs as
he waited, to make sure there would be no squeak or
whine of rusty hinges. It was with equal precaution
and slowness that he closed the door again. Then
he felt his way inward, circling about until he came
to the edge of the desk, and exploring it with question-
ing fingers.

He found th "'olh-covered telephone wires and

traced them - ' transmitter stand. With the
most scrupuloua .ic took up that transmitter and
lifted it to the finor. Then he silenced the call-bell with
his pocket handkerchief, tying it about the clapper to
make all sound impossible. Then he stood in thought,
for a moment or two, before groping his way back to
t! e office wall. There his busy fingers again took up
their exploration work, as he circled the room and
stopped meditatively when he came to an overcoat
hanging on a hook beside a paper-littered cabinet-top.
It was a heavy overcoat, apparently of pilot-cloth,

276

THE HAND OF PERIL

and it was lined with rabbit-skin sadly worn at the
edges, and rent in the seams.

Kestner possessed himself of that overcoat. Then
he lowered himself to the lloor, .sinking first on one
knee and then on the other, slowly, so there should
be no shadow of a concuss.ion-sound or bone-creak.
Then he leaned forward, with his finger-tips on the
floor-boards, letting his body dc? .nd inch by inch
until his face was cln-^r to the wharf-planks and his
outstretched hands were within touch of the trans-
mitter-stand.

He first lifted this stand until it was directly in

front of him, close to his face. Then he sh ly drew
the heavy pilot-cloth coat up over his body until it
covered both the transmitter and his head. He
draped it cautiously about him, as a cainvra-man cov-
ers his instrument, making sure no vent was left.
Then he slowly lifted the receiver from its hook, placed
it to his ear, and with his lips almost touching the
diaphragm of the transmitter whimpered his number
to Central. From that little tented corner of black-
ness he was able to call for Wilsnach and help. For
Central had heard and given him bis connection.

" Wilsnach ! " he whispered into the tiny cave of
metal against his lip.

There came a faltering and somewhat puzzled
"Hello? " in response to his whisper.

" Wilsnach. do you hear me? "

" Hello ! " repeated the answering voice.

"Don't you hear me?"

"No! Speak up!"

" This is Kestner," continued the whisper from un-

THE HAND OF PERIL

«77

der the muffling pilot-cloth coat. At last the man at
the far end of the line appeared to comp«hend the

situation.

" Kcstnor, is it you? Yes — yes — go on!"
I want help, and I want it quick ! "

As never before tliere flashed home to the whispering
man the miracle of the tt kphone, the renewed mystery
of a human voice heinu- projected along its tenuous
nervous system of countless wires. He suddenly re-
awakened to the magic vi thus bringing a far-distant
voice winging along its rivulet of metal, of guarding
and conserving and directing that vuice through nil
the belcagutring uproars of a great city and leading
it safely hone to his own waiting ear.

" Where are you ? "

" On the Saltus Pier in South Brooklyn. I can't
talk. Tm shut in here with Lambert. His friends
are cutting their way into the other end of the pier."

" I understand."
" Get here quick ! "

That was all Kestner needed to say. The ever de-
pendable Wilsnach, he knew, would be away from that
telephone before the musty-smelling pilot-cloth coat
could be thrown aside from his own head.

VIII

Kestker, as he emerged from that unlighted pier-
office into tlie cavernous gloom of tlic ociually un-
l."-litecl warcliousi', knew tliorc was no time to be wasted.
He felt the need for prompt ution. Yet he was
still undecided as to what line this action should fol-
low and as to what form it could take.

There was one danger-zone, however, of which he
could be sure. That was the spot wliere Whitcy ]\Ic-
Kensic had attempted to bore his way up through the
wharf-plank iug. Whitey miglit possess resources un-
known to Kestner, and the sooner that &pot was in-
vestigated the better. Daylight, Kestner felt con-
vinced, could not be far off.

He allowed no impatience of mind, however, to
interfere with his earlier demand for caution. He
groped his blind way back along the warehouse as
stealthily and as silently as he had first advanced from
its depths. Once mono his outstretched fingers became
antennae. Still again his fastidiously exploring stock-
inged feet became tentacles, feeling ahead of the ever-
shrinking body that followed them.

Then his advance came to a stop.

Suddenly one of the tentacles drew buck, as natural

in its reaction as the recoil of an Insect's feeler, for

it had come in contact with something unexpected,

something unexplained. Kestner, chilling a little

278

THE HAND OF PERIL

279

through his moist body at the discovery, slowly low-
ered himself and explored tb unknown object.

Thero, dim-tly in his patu, lie foun.l ii pair of
>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<T-like fingers stood erect,
peering about the blackness that engulfed him. He
seemed to sniff danger in the air, as an animal i^p-
wind sniffs pursuit. Instinctively he reached down to
make sure that his revolver was in place. Then he
buttoned his coat, and once more stooping forward
like a track-runner, moved guardedly on. He 1.. ^an
to breathe more freely, digesting his discovery, ad-
justing himself to the newer condition of things. But
he kept warning himself to be cautious, to feel his way
carefully, to let no betraying sound announce the secret
of his advance.

Then all thought stopped, with the quickness of a
lightning flash. His next movement w as unvolitioned
and spasmodic. It was a movement of sharp recoil.

280

THE HAND OF PERIL

Had his outstretched fingers suddenly touched a red-
hot plate of metal he could not have moved more
quickly.

But it was nothing like a plate of metal, that some-
thing which he had touched. It was a human hand,
like his own. His groping fingers had momentarily
become involved with another set of fingers out-
stretched like his own. Those distended antenna;
had locked together loatlisoniely, as the feelers of
submarine monsters niiglit, had clutched and had sud-
denly withdrawn, each cluster telegraphing to the
brain behind them the imminence of danger, the need
for action.

That action, on Kestncr's part, became one of un-
couth acrobatrcs. It sent him leaping and side-step-
ping backwards, in a series of jerks as quick and unco-
ordinated as the leaps of a beheaded pullet. Then he
stood for a second, silent, poised and motionless,
bayoneted with a tingle of horripilated nerves.

He seemed to know ^hat was coming. He saw the
quick stab of flame at the same moment that the high-
roofed building reverberated with the thunder of the
revolver-shot. I.aiiibert was using his gun. He was
forcing the issue by suddenly raking the silence about
him. And he was keeping on the move as he fired,
charging from side to side, craftily changing his posi-
tion after each flasli.

Kestncr crouched there, watching those flashes, all
but deafened by the echoing tumult after so many
hours of silence. He wanted Lambert, and he wanted
him at any cost. That was the one vague over-tone
to all consciousness. Yet his first definite thought

THE HAND OF PERIL 281

was as to tlie absurdity of standing there passive.
The second lucid miprossion to enter his mind was
a self-warning about seeking shelter. Quarters were
too close for firing such as that, with bullets rico-
chetting and wliistling about him and the smell of
powder-smoke stinging in his nostrils. It was a
fusillade from a running and ever-shifting adversary,
from now one point and now another, taking on the
menace of a general attack. It seemed more like
the assault of a small army.

Yet Kestner was still untouched by any thought of
personal fear. What he felt was more relief at sud-
den sound and movement. It still puzzled him a little
that this sound could be so tumultuous and the move-
ment so frenzied. He even wondered, for a moment,
if i were not being confronted by more than one
enemy, if Lambert's confederates had not indeed joined
him in that running attack.

Then a greater wonder possessed him, for he found
himself wheeling half about and groping in the air
with his hands, like a skater struggling to recover his
balance. He felt a sting of pain somewhere below
the waist. He could not tell where, beyond the fact
that the sting had merged into a feeling not unlike
a burn and was on tli left side. Then with a sense
of sliock, he realised what it meant.

Kestner knew that he was shot.

What surprised him was the discovery that a wound
could be received and yet cause so little pain. He
roniembered, however, that loss of blood often enough
implied lo-^-; of consciousness. And he could not af-
ford to take chances. Yes, he was bleeding, some-

282

THE HAND OF PERH.

where along the hip-bone. He could feel it. His
trouser-leg was wet and warm. It might be more se-
rious than he imagined. And he had to be sure of his
case. Whatever happened, Lambert was not to get
away. So quietly and deliberately Kestner reached
down for his revolver.

He began to fire, falling back and dodging from
quarter to quarter as he shot. That feverish move-
ment exhilarated him. He found a vast relief in ac-
tion merely as action. To be able to do somethmg
was now a deliverance. And he knew that the end of
the drama could not be far away.

Yet he shot deliberately, always aiming low, with
nothing to guide him but that ever-shifting ruby flame-
jet arrowing for the moment out of the blackness.
Then, as he strained forward, he lieard the sound he
had been hoping for, the telltale snap of a trigger on
an empty cartridge-cliamber.

He ran forward at the sound, knowing what that im-
plied. It meant that his enemy's ammunition was
exhausted. It meant that his moment for closing in
on that enemy had arrived.

He heard the click of metal against metal, close be-
fore him in the darkness, but he did not take time to
reason out its meaning. He raised liis automatic and
fired again, still aiming lev, calculating the source and
central point of that one guiding sound.

Then he stopped short, dropping his hand to his
side, for a quick gasp of pain had come to his ears,
followed by a low and half-moaning cry of 'Oh, my
God! " Then came the sound of a body falling and
thrrshintr for a ninnicnt agninst the flooring.
Then the silence was unbroken.

Kestneb. knew what the sound of that falling body
meant. He groped his way forward in a sudden panic
of apprehension. He ran back and forth in the open
spaces, searching for the spot where that other man
must surely have gone down.

Then he stopped short and crouched back, listening,
warned by some whispering sixth sense, remembering
that Lambert had long since proved himself a. master
of trickery. He stood there, pondering if that fall
might not be the pretence of a wily enemy to gain
time enough to reload a revolver, or at least drag
himself silently off to more sheltered quarters. But
he could be sure of nothing.

Kestner decided it was too late to take chances.
That echoing tumult would only too quickly bring out-
side interference. And he wanted nothing to come
between him and his quarry. Lambert belonged to
him. He was there to make his capture, and he did
not intend to be cneated out of his prisoner.

Then he stopped short, astounded by his own stupid-
ity, his own absence of resource. Here he was grop-
ino- about in utter darkness from sheer force of habit,
when he had matches in his own pocket. There was
no longer need for secrecy. What he wanted now
was light. What he had to have was light.

He felt in his pocket for a match, made sure of the

283

284 THE HAND OF PERIL

(lipped tnd, and struck it. Just what happened after
that Kcstnor never quite knew.

He remembered seeing the sudden spurt of the flame.
Then he was conscious of shock, as though that flame
had been struck in the midst of an explosive gas and
he had stood facing the resultant detonation.

That shock carried him backward, flinging the re-
volver from his hand, jolting the very breath oat of
his body. He was sprawling and scrambling and
threshing about the wharf-floor before he fully realised
the meaning of that onslaught. Lambert, after all,
had tricked him.

His: enemy had feinted and snatched at a pretence
of being shot. Under cover of that feint he had
gathered himself together and waited for the first
sign of Kestner's position. Then he had leaped for
him out of the darkness. had closed in on him,

with the antediluvian fury of a cave-man cornered in
his cave. He had resolved to make that ultimate
struggle a struggle of fang and nail and fist. And
now they were on the wharf-floor, locked together in
the darkness, with quick gasps and giunts from each
straining and contending body.

Lambert was the bulkier man of the two, Kestner re-
membered, and in some ways inuch the stronger man.
But Kestner had tlie advantage of youth. And there
were certain tilings the lighter-bodied man had learned
in his earliest days in the Service. He had long since
mastered the rudimentary jiu-jitsu tricks of a voca-
tion where, in contests, manual force was invariably
the final arbiter. His police-rooky training had also
included iiomcthiug mure than murniug pistol-practice

THE HAND OF PERIL

and " strong-arm " artifices and first aid to the in-
jured. It had taught him the use of the " arm-twist "
and the " hip-throw," of the " neck-hold " for break-
ing a rear attack clutch, of the " leg-lock " for pinning
down b. prisoner so that a captor's hands could be
free. He had also mastered tliat most efficaciou.i ex-
pedient of thumb-pressure on tiic nose, that torturing
pressure, on the thin and membranous bones, which
could so promptly break a waist-hold, not only
by engendering a pain that soon became unendurable
but also by compressing an air-passage that was essen-
tial to life.

That was the trick which Kestner thought of as he
felt Lambert's bear-like pressure about his constricted
waist. That was the trick on which he hung his hopes,
remembering that his hip-wound, however slight, might
still leave him weak from loss of blood. It was not
time, he inwardly repeated, for half-measures.

He even lost ground a little as he shifted his right
arm, but this did not cause hini to lose hope. Once
his hand was free, even as the struggle along the
rough boards continued, he fought to gain that h-an
and bony face. He clutched it savagely, as' a collie's
jaw clamps on a chicken bone. He felt for the nore,
placed his thumb, locked his fingers, and applied the
pressure.

He knew as he did so, that it was then merely a
matter of time. Lambert fought with fresh fire,
knowing that clutch had to be broken, and broken soon.

But Kestner hung on like a leech. The great boay
under him lurched and tossed and heaved. Together
they rolled over and over. Tiicn they went bodily

286 THE HAND OF PERIL

against a wall of high-pUed lemon-crates. That tot-
tering pillar of uneven units swayed outward, im-
parted its unsteadiness to other columns, and then
came tumbling down in an ever-increasing avalanche
of bales, half-burying the two figures under their
weight, adding to the clamour and noise and confusion
at the core of which those two madly threshing bodies
still contended.

Not once did Kestner loosen his clutch. Not once
did he give up. >;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.

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

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.**

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
li<r|it of resi'iitmenl in the world-weary eyes, a look that
was almost d( fiance about the grim line of the mouth.

I won't liave you say a thing like that!" he con-
tended.

** Oh, I've been tellin' lier a few things myself this
past month. An' she was about as high an' mighty
as you're tryin' to be now. But if she wants to make
a monkey of herself, that ain't my business. Fve got
my own reason for handin' out this bunch o' talk, an*
I guess you'd, better cool down an* listen to it.**

Kestner swung about on her.

" If you'\o got an object in talking this way, I want
to know it, and know it quick.'*

There was a touch of perverseness in her languid
unconcern as she went on.

" Y' know, ?,Taura Lambert was never cut out for
the brand o' work that I've been doin'. She's not my
kind. In the first place, she*s too thin-skinned. In
the second place, she couldn't get away wit* a lie in a
month o' Sundays. She's about as green as grass.
Lambert kept her caged up like a white mouse. And
when he dropped out she was as alone as a she-lamb
that'd fallen off a sheep-train. She saw what she
wanteu. She decided she was goin* t' go straight. But
that's easier t.' say than do. She got in wrong, at the
start. An' when people know she can do the work

THE HAND OF PERIL

305

she does, there'll always be som? guy or other t' give
her a yank back to the ol' groove. They jus' won't
give her a chance."

"I know all that," quickly acknowledged her im-
patient companion. "What I want to find out is
wlu rc she is — now — at this moment ! "

" Hold your horses a minute! I'm comin' to that,
Maura never was a mixer like me. An' she had more'n
lonesomeness to fight against when I happened along.
A girl like that's gotta have money. She's gotta have
it to perfect herself. She's gotta go to good hotels,
an' keep to the better quarters, an' stick a buffer out
b'tween her an' the riff-raff. An' how's she goin' to
do that when she's gotta skimp an* save jus' to keep
things goin'? And when she won't even ; ash a bit o*
phoney paper when the cash runs low? "

" Of course she'd never do that," agreed K stner.
The r >rt 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

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.

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

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

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