THE AGONY COLUMN EARL- DERR/ DIGGERS CULIBRAKf LEONARD WILLIAM * BUCK' V Column THE AGONY COLUMN EARL DERR BIGGERS oAuthor of Seven Keys to Baldpate, Love Insurance, etc. Illustrated by WILL GREFE Indianapolis The Bobbs-Merrill Company Publishers COPYRIGHT 1916 THE CURTIS PUBLISHING COMPANY COPYRIGHT 1916 THK BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY PRESS OF BRAUNWORTH ft CO. BOOK MANUFACTURERS BROOKLYN, N. Y. XSf The Agony; Column Column CHAPTER I TWO years ago, in July, London was almost unbearably hot. It seems, looking back, as though the big baking city in those days was meant to serve as an anteroom of torture an inadequate bit of preparation for the hell that was soon to break in the guise of the Great War. About the soda-water bar in the drug store near the Hotel Cecil many American tourists found solace in the sirups and creams of home. Through the open windows of the Piccadilly tea shops you might catch glimpses of the English consuming quarts of hot tea in i The Agonv Column order to become cool. It is a paradox they swear by. About nine o'clock on the morning of Friday, July twenty-fourth, in that mem- orable year nineteen hundred and four- teen, Geoffrey West left his apartments in Adelphi Terrace and set out for break- fast at the Carlton. He had found the breakfast room of that dignified hotel the coolest in London, and through some miracle, for the season had passed, straw- berries might still be had there. As he took his way through the crowded Strand, surrounded on all sides by honest British faces wet with honest British perspira- tion he thought longingly of his rooms in Washington Square, New York. For West, despite the English sound of that Geoffrey, was as American as Kansas, his native state, and only pressing business 2 The Agoav Column was at that moment holding him in Eng- land, far from the country that glowed! Unusually rosy because of its remoteness. At the Carlton news stand West bought two morning papers the Times for study and the Mail for entertainment * and then passed on into the restaurant. His waiter a tall soldierly Prussian, more blond than West himself saw him coming and, with a nod and a mechanical German smile, set out for the plate of Strawberries which he knew would be the first thing desired by the American. West seated himself at his usual table and, spreading out the Daily Mail, sought his favorite column. The first item in that column brought a delighted smile to his face: "The one who calls me Dearest is not genuine or they would write to me." 3 Column Any one at all familiar with English journalism will recognize at once what department it was that appealed most to West. During his three weeks in Lon- don he had been following, with the keen- est joy, the daily grist of Personal No- tices in the Mall. This string of intimate messages, popularly known as the Agony Column, has long been an honored insti- tution in the English press. In the days of Sherlock Holmes it was in the Times that it flourished, and many a criminal was tracked to earth after he had inserted some alluring mysterious message in it. Later the Telegraph gave it room; but, with the advent of halfpenny journalism, the simple souls moved en masse to the Mall Tragedy an'd comedy mingle in the Ag- ony Column. Erring ones are urged to 4 The Agony; Column return for forgiveness; unwelcome suit- ors are warned that "Father has warrant prepared; fly, Dearest One!" Loves that >vould shame by their ardor Abelard and Heloi'se are frankly published at ten cents a word for all the town to smile at. The gentleman in the brown derby states with fervor that the blonde governess who got off the tram at Shepherd's Bush has quite won his heart. Will she permit his addresses? Answer; this department. For three weeks West had found this sort of thing delicious reading. Best of all, he could detect in these messages nothing that was not open and innocent. At their worst they were merely an effort to side-step old Lady Convention; this in- clination was so rare in the British, he 'felt it should be encouraged. Besides, he was inordinately fond of mystery and ro- 5 The Agony; Column mance, and these engaging twins hovered always about that column. So, while waiting for his strawberries, he smiled over the ungrammatical out- burst of the young lady who had come to doubt the genuineness of him who called her Dearest. He passed on to the second Item of the morning. Spoke one whose heart had been completely conquered : MY LADY sleeps. She of raven tresses. Corner seat from Victoria, Wednesday night. Carried program. Gentleman an- swering inquiry desires acquaintance. Reply here. LE Roi. West made a mental note to watch for the reply of raven tresses. The next mes- sage proved to be one of Aye's lyrics now almost a daily feature of the column : DEAREST : Tender loving wishes to my dear one. Only to be with you now and 6 The Agony Column always. None "f airer in my eyes." Your name is music to me. I love you more than life itself, my own beautiful darling, my proud sweetheart, my joy, my all! Jealous of everybody. Kiss your dear hands for me. Love you only. Thine ever. AYE. Which, reflected West, was generous of Aye at ten cents a word and in strik- ing contrast to the penurious lover who wrote, farther along in the column : loveu dearly; wantocu; longing; missu But those extremely personal notices tan not alone to love. Mystery, too, was present, especially in the aquatic utter- ance: DEFIANT MERMAID: Not mine. Alli- gators bitingu now. 'Tis well ; delighted. -FIRST FISH. 7 The Agoay Column And the rather sanguinary suggestion : DE Box: First round; tooth gone. Finale. You will FORGET ME NOT. At this point West's strawberries ar- rived and even the Agony Column could not hold his interest. When the last red berry was eaten he turned back to read : WATERLOO : Wed. 1 1 153 train. Lady who left in taxi and waved, care to know gent, gray coat? SINCERE. Also the more dignified request put forward in : GREAT CENTRAL: Gentleman who saw lady in bonnet 9 Monday morning in Great Central Hotel lift would greatly value opportunity of obtaining introduc- tion. This exhausted the joys of the Agony 8 The AgoRY Column Column for the day, and West, like the solid citizen he really was, took up the Times to discover what might be the morning's news. A great deal of space was given to the appointment of a new; principal for Dulwich College. The af- fairs of the heart, in which that charming creature, Gabrielle Ray, was at the mo- ment involved, likewise claimed atten- tion. And in a quite unimportant corner, in a most unimportant manner, it was re- lated that Austria had sent an ultimatum to Serbia. West had read part way through this stupid little piece of news, when suddenly the Thunderer and all its works became an uninteresting blur. A girl stood just inside the door of the Carlton breakfast room. Yes ; he should have pondered that des- patch from Vienna. But such a girl! It 9 The Agony Column 'adds nothing at all to say that her hair was a dull sort of gold; her eyes violet. Many girls have been similarly blessed. It was her manner; the sweet way she looked with those violet eyes through a battalion of head waiters and resplendent managers ; her air of being at home here in the Carlton or anywhere else that fate might drop her down. Unquestionably she came from oversea from the States. She stepped forward into the restau- rant. And now slipped also into view, as part of the background for her, a mid- dle-aged man, who wore the conventional black of the statesman. He, too, bore the American label unmistakably. Nearer and nearer to West she drew, and he saw: that in her hand she carried a copy of the 'Dally Mail. West's waiter was a master of the art lio The Agony; Column of suggesting that no table in the room was worth sitting at save that at which he held ready a chair. Thus he lured the girl and her companion to repose not five feet from where West sat. This accom- plished, he whipped out his order book, and stood with pencil poised, like a re- porter in an American play. "The strawberries are delicious," he said in honeyed tones. The man looked at the girl, a question in his eyes. "Not for me, dad," she said. "I hate them! Grapefruit, please." As the waiter hurried past, West hailed him. 'He spoke in loud defiant tones. "Another plate of the strawberries!" he commanded. "They are better than ever to-day." For a second, as though he were part ii The Agony; Column of the scenery, those violet eyes met his with a casual impersonal glance. Then their owner slowly spread out her own copy of the Mail. "What's the news?" asked the states- man, drinking deep from his glass of water. "Don't ask me," the girl answered, without looking up. "I've found some- thing more entertaining than news. Do you know the English papers run hu- morous columns ! Only they aren't called that. They're called Personal Notices. And such notices!" She leaned across the table. "Listen to this: 'Dearest: Tender loving wishes to my dear one. Only to be with you now and always. None "fairer in my eyes" ' The man looked uncomfortably about 12 Column him. "Hush!" he pleaded. "It doesn't sound very nice to me." "Nice!" cried the girl. "Oh, but it is quite nice. And so deliciously open and aboveboard. 'Your name is music to me. I love you more ' ' "What do we see to-day?" put in her father hastily. "We're going down to the City an'd have a look at the Temple. Thackeray lived there once< and Oliver Gold- smith" "All right the Temple it is." "Then the Tower of London. It's full of the most romantic associations. Espe- cially the Bloody Tower, where those poor little princes were murdered. Aren't you thrilled?" "I am if you say so." 13 The Agoav Column "You're a dear! I promise not to tell the people back in Texas that you showed any interest in kings and such if you will show just a little. Otherwise I'll spread the awful news that you took off your hat when King George went by." The statesman smiled. West felt that he, who had no business to, was smiling with him. The waiter returned, bringing grape- fruit, and the strawberries West had or- dered. Without another look toward West, the girl put down her paper and began her breakfasting. As often as he dared, however, West looked at her. With patriotic pride he told himself: "Six months in Europe, and the most beautiful thing I've seen comes from back home!" When he rose reluctantly twenty min- The Agony Columa utes later his two compatriots were still at table, discussing their plans for the day. As is usual in such cases, the girl ar- ranged, the man agreed. With one last glance in her direction, West went out on the parched pavement of Haymarket. Slowly he walked back to his rooms. Work was waiting there for him; but, instead of getting down to it, he sat on the balcony of his study, gazing out on the courtyard that had been his chief rea- son for selecting those apartments. Here, in the heart of the city, was a bit of the countryside transported the green, trim, [neatly tailored countryside that is the most satisfying thing in England. There were walls on which the ivy climbed high, narrow paths that ran between blooming beds of flowers, and opposite 15 The Agoav Column his windows a seldom-opened, most ro- mantic gate. As he sat looking down he seemed to see there below him the girl of the Carlton. Now she sat on the rustic bench; now she bent above the envious flowers; now she stood at the gate that opened out to a hot sudden bit of the city. And as he watched her there in the gar- den she would never enter, as he reflected unhappily that probably he would see her no more the idea came to him. At first he put it from him as absurd, impossible. She was, to apply a fine word much abused, a lady; he supposedly a: gentleman. Their sort did not do such things. If he yielded to this temptation she would be shocked, angry, and from him would slip that one chance in a thou- sand he had the chance of meeting her somewhere, some day. 16 The Agon Column And yet and yet She, too, had found 1 the Agony Column entertaining and quite nice. There was a twinkle in her eyes that bespoke a fondness for romance. She was human, fun-loving and, above all, the joy of youth was in her heart. Nonsense! West went inside and walked the floor. The idea was prepos- terous. Still he smiled it was filled! with amusing possibilities. Too bad he must put it forever away and settle down to this stupid work! Fo r eve r a way ? Wei 1 On the next morning, which was Sat- urday, West did not breakfast at the Carl- ton. The girl, how r ever, did. As she and! her father sat down the old man said: "I see you've got your Daily Mall!' "Of course!" she answered. "I couldn't: do without it. Grapefruit yes." 17 Column She began to read. Presently her cheeks flushed and she put the paper down. "What is it?" asked the Texas states- man. "To-day," she answered sternly, "you do the British Museum. YouVe put it off long enough." The old man sighed. Fortunately he did not ask to see the Mail. If he had, a quarter way down the column of per- sonal notices he would have been enraged * or perhaps only puzzled to read: CARLTON RESTAURANT: Nine A. M., Friday morning. Will the young woman who preferred grapefruit to strawberries permit the young man who had two plates of the latter to say he will not rest until he discovers some mutual friend, that they may meet and laugh over this column to- gether? 18 The Agony Column Lucky for the young man who liked strawberries that his nerve had failed hint and he was not present at the Carlton that morning! He would have been quite overcome to see the stern uncompromis- ing look on the beautiful face of a lady at her grapefruit. So overcome, in fact, that he would probably have left the room at once, and thus not seen the mis- chievous smile that came in time to the lady's face not seen that she soon picked up the paper again and read, with that smile, to the end of the column. CHAPTER II THE next day was Sunday; hence it brought no Mail. Slowly it dragged along. At a ridiculously early hour Monday morning Geoffrey West was on the street, seeking his favor- ite newspaper. He found it, found the Agony Column and nothing else. Tues- day morning again he rose early, still hopeful. Then and there hope died. The lady at the Carlton deigned no reply. Well, he had lost, he told himself. He had staked all on this one bold throw; no use. Probably if she thought of him at all it was to label him a cheap joker, a mountebank of the halfpenny press. Richly he deserved her scorn. On Wednesday he slept late. He was 2Q Column in no haste to look into the Daily Mall; his disappointments of the previous days had been too keen. At last, while he was shaving, he summoned Walters, the care- taker of the building, and sent him out to procure a certain morning paper. Walters came back bearing rich treas- ure, for in the Agony Column of that day West, his face white with lather, read joyously : STRAWBERRY MAN: Only the grape- fruit lady's kind heart and her great fond- ness for mystery and romance move her to answer. The strawberry-mad one may write one letter a day for seven days to prove that he is an interesting person, worth knowing. Then we shall see. Address: M. A. L., care Sadie Haight, Carlton Hotel. All day West walked on air, but with 21 The Agony; Column the evening came the problem of those letters, on which depended, he felt, his entire future happiness. Returning from dinner, he sat down at his desk near the windows that looked out on his wonderful courtyard. The weather was still torrid, but with the night had come a breeze to fan the hot cheek of London. It gently stirred his curtains ; rustled the papers on his desk. He considered. Should he at once make known the eminently respectable person he was, the hopelessly respectable people he knew? Hardly! For then, on the instant, like a bubble bursting, would go for good all mystery and romance, and the lady of the grapefruit would lose all interest and listen to him no more. He spoke solemnly to his rustling curtains. "No," he said. "We must have mys- 22 The Agoav; Columa tery and romance. But where where shall we find them?" On the floor above he heard the solid tramp of military boots belonging to his neighbor, Captain Stephen Fraser-Freer, of the Twelfth Cavalry, Indian Army, home on furlough from that colony be- yond the seas. It was from that room overhead that romance and mystery were to come in mighty store; but Geoffrey West little suspected it at the moment. Hardly knowing what to say, but gaining inspiration as he went along, he wrote the first of seven letters to the lady at the Carlton. And the epistle he dropped in the post box at midnight follows here : DEAR LADY OF THE GRAPEFRUIT: You are very kind. Also, you are wise. Wise, because into my clumsy little Personal you read nothing that was not there. You 23 The Agony; Column knew it immediately for what it was > the timid tentative clutch of a shy man at the skirts of Romance in passing. Be- lieve me, old Conservatism was with me when I wrote that message. He was fighting hard. He followed me, strug- gling, shrieking, protesting, to the post box itself. But I whipped him. Glory be! I did for him. We are young but once, I told him. After that, what use to signal to Ro- mance? The lady at least, I said, will understand. He sneered at that. He shook his silly gray head. I will admit he had me worried. But now you have justified my faith in you. Thank you a million times for that! Three weeks I have been in this huge, ungainly, indifferent city, longing for the States. Three weeks the Agony Column The Agony; Column has been my sole diversion. And then through the doorway of the Carlton res- taurant you came It is of myself that I must write, I know. I will not, then, tell you what is in my mind the picture of you I carry. It would mean little to you. Many Tex- an gallants, no doubt, have told you the same while the moon was bright above you and the breeze was softly whispering through the branches of the branches of the of the Confound it, I don't know! I have never been in Texas. It is a vice in me I hope soon to correct. All day I in- tended to look up Texas in the encyclo- pedia. But all 'day I have dwelt in the clouds. And there are no reference books in the clouds. Now I am down to earth in my quiet Column study. Pens, ink and paper are before me. I must prove myself a person worth knowing. From his rooms, they say, you can tell much about a man. But, alas ! these peace- ful rooms in Adelphi Terrace I shall not tell the number were sublet fur- nished So if you could see me now you would be judging me by the possessions left behind by one Anthony Bartholo- mew. There is much dust on them. Judge neither Anthony nor me by that. Judge rather Walters, the caretaker, who lives in the basement with his gray-haired wife. Walters was a gardener once, and his whole life is wrapped up in the court- yard on which my balcony looks down. There he spends his time, while up above the dust gathers in the corners Does this picture distress you, my lady? 26 The Agorvy Column You should see the courtyard! You would not blame Walters then. It is a sample of Paradise left at our door that courtyard. As English as a hedge, as neat, as beautiful. London is a roar some- where beyond ; between our court and the great city is a magic gate, forever closed. It was the court that led me to take these rooms. And, since you are one who loves mys- tery, I am going to relate to you the odd chain of circumstances that brought me here. For the first link in that chain we must go back to Interlaken. Have you been there yet? A quiet little town, lying beautiful between two shimmering lakes, with the great Jungf rau itself for scenery. From the dining-room of one lucky hotel you may look up at dinner and watch the 27 The Agony Column old-rose afterglow light the snow-capped mountain. You would not say then of strawberries: "I hate them." Or of any- thing else in all the world. A month ago I was in Interlaken. One evening after dinner I strolled along the main street, where all the hotels and shops are drawn up at attention before the love- ly mountain. In front of one of the shops I saw a collection of walking sticks and, since I needed one for climbing, I paused to look them over. I had been at this only a moment when a young Englishman stepped up and also began examining the sticks. I had made a selection from the lot and was turning away to find the shopkeeper, when the Englishman spoke. He was lean, distinguished-looking, though quite young, and had that well-tubbed appear- 28 The Agony Column ance which I am convinced is the great factor that has enabled the English to assert their authority over colonies like? Egypt and India, where men are not so thoroughly bathed. "Er if you'll pardon me, old chap," he said. "Not that stick if you don't mind my saying so. It's not tough enough for mountain work. I would suggest " To say that I was astonished is putting it mildly. If you know the English at all, you know it is not their habit to ad- dress strangers, even under the most press- ing circumstances. Yet here was one of that haughty race actually interfering in my selection of a stick. I ended by buy- ing the one he preferred, and he strolled along with me in the direction of my ho- tel, chatting meantime in a fashion fan from British. 29 The Agony Column We stopped at the Kursaal, where we listened to the music, had a drink and threw away a few francs on the little horses. He came with me to the veranda of my hotel. I was surprised, when he took his leave, to find that he regarded me in the light of an old friend. He said he would call on me the next morning. I made up my mind that Archibald En- wright for that, he told me, was his name was an adventurer down on his luck, who chose to forget his British ex- clusiveness under the stern necessity of getting money somehow, somewhere. The next day, I decided, I should be the victim of a touch. But my prediction failed; Enwright seemed to have plenty of money. On that first evening I had mentioned to him that I expected shortly to be in London, and 30 The Agoay; Column he often referred to the fact As the time approached for me to leave Interlaken he began to throw out the suggestion that he should like to have me meet some of his people in England. This, also, was (unheard of against all precedent. Nevertheless, when I said good-by to him he pressed into my hand a letter of introduction to his cousin, Captain Ste- phen Fraser-Freer, of the Twelfth Cav- alry, Indian Army, who, he said, would be glad to make me at home in London, where he was on furlough at the time or would be when I reached there. "Stephen's a good sort," said Enwright. "He'll be jolly pleased to show you the ropes. Give him my best, old boy!" Of course I took the letter. But I puz- zled greatly over the affair. What could be the meaning of this sudden warm at- The Agony; Column tachment that Archie had formed for me? Why should he want to pass me along to his cousin at a time when that gentle- man, back home after two years in India, would be, no doubt, extremely busy? I made up my mind I would not present the letter, despite the fact that Archie had with great persistence wrung from me a promise to do so. I had met many Eng- lish gentlemen, and I felt they were not the sort despite the example of Archie to take a wandering American to their bosoms when he came with a mere letter. By easy stagds I came on to London. Here I met a friend, just sailing for home, who told me of some sad experiences he had had with letters of introduction of the cold, fishy, "My-dear-fellow-why- trouble-me-with-it?" stares that had greeted their presentation. Good-heart- 32 The Agoay; Column, ed men all, he said, but averse to stran- gers ; an ever-present trait in the English always excepting Archie. So I put the letter to Captain Eraser- Freer out of my mind. I had business ac- quaintances here and a few English friends, and I found these, as always, courteous and charming. But it is to my advantage to meet as many people as may be, and after drifting about for a week I set out one afternoon to call on my cap- tain. I told myself that here was an Eng- lishman who had perhaps thawed a bit in the great oven of India. If not, no harm would be done. It was then that I came for the first time to this house on Adelphi Terrace, for it was the address Archie had given me. Walters let me in, and I learned from him that Captain Eraser-Freer had 33 The Agoay; Column not yet arrived from India. His rooms were ready he had kept them during his absence, as seems to be the custom over here and he was expected soon. Per- haps said Walters his wife remem- bered the date. He left me in the lower hall while he went to ask her. Waiting, I strolled to the rear of the hall. And then, through an open window that let in the summer, I saw for the first time that courtyard which is my great love in London the old ivy-covered walls of brick; the neat paths between the blooming beds; the rustic seat; the magic gate. It was incredible that just outside lay the world's biggest city, with all its poverty and wealth, its sorrows and joys, its roar and rattle. Here was a garden for Jane Austen to people with fine ladies 34 The Agony Column and courtly gentlemen here was a gar- den to dream in, to adore and to cherish. When Walters came back to tell me that his wife was uncertain as to the exact date when the captain would return, I began to rave about that courtyard. At once he was my friend. I had been look- ing for quiet lodgings away from the hotel, and I was delighted to find that on the second floor, directly under the cap- tain's rooms, there was a suite to be sub- let. Walters gave me the address of the agents ; and, after submitting to an exam- ination that could not have been more se- vere if I had asked for the hand of the senior partner's daughter, they let me come here to live. The garden was mine ! And the captain? Three days after I 35 The AgoR Column arrived I heard above me, for the first time, the tread of his military boots. Now again my courage began to fail. I should have preferred to leave Archie's letter lying in my desk and know my neighbor only by his tread above me. I felt that perhaps I had been presumptuous in com- ing to live in the same house with him. But I had represented myself to Walters as an acquaintance of the captain's and the caretaker had lost no time in telling me that "my friend" was safely home. So one night, a week ago, I got up my nerve and went to the captain's rooms. I knocked. He called to me to enter and I stood in his study, facing him. He was a tall handsome man, fair-haired, mus- tached the very figure that you, my lady, in your boarding-school days, would have 36 Column wished him to be. His manner, I am bound to admit, was not cordial. "Captain," I began, "I am very sorry to intrude " It wasn't the thing to say, of course, but I was fussed. "However, I happen to be a neighbor of yours, and I have here a letter of introduction from your cousin, Archibald Enwright. I met him in Interlaken and we became very good friends." "Indeed!" said the captain. He held out his hand for the letter, as though it were evidence at a court-mar- tial. I passed it over, wishing I hadn't come. He read it through. It was a long letter, considering its nature. While I waited, standing by his desk he hadn't asked me to sit down I looked about the room. It was much like my own study, 37 The Agoay; Column only I think a little dustier. Being on the third floor it was farther from the garden, consequently Walters reached there sel- dom. The captain turned back and began to read the letter again. This was decidedly embarrassing. Glancing down, I hap- pened, to see on his desk an odd knife, which I fancy he had brought from India. The blade was of steel, dangerously sharp, the hilt of gold, carved to represent some heathen figure. Then the captain looked up from Archie's letter and his cold gaze fell full upon me. "My dear fellow," he said, "to the best of my knowledge, I have no cousin named Archibald Enwright." A pleasant situation, you must admit! It's bad enough when you come to them " The Agony; Column with a letter from their mother, but here was I in this Englishman's rooms, boldly flaunting in his face a warm note of com- mendation from a cousin who did not exist! "I owe you an apology," I said. I tried to be as haughty as he, and fell short by about two miles. "I brought the letter in good faith." "No doubt of that," he answered. "Evidently it was given me by some adventurer for purposes of his own," I went on; "though I am at a loss to guess what they could have been." "I'm frightfully sorry really," said he. But he said it with the London in- flection, which plainly implies: "Fm nothing of the sort." A painful pause. I felt that he ought to give me back the letter; but he made no 39 The Agon Column move to do so. And, of course, I didn't ask for it. "Ah er good night," said I, and hur- ried toward the door. "Good night," he answered, and I left him standing there with Archie's ac- cursed letter in his hand. That is the story of how I came to this house in Adelphi Terrace. There is mystery in it, you must admit, my lady. Once or twice since that uncomfortable call I have passed the captain on the stairs; but the halls are very dark, and for that I am grateful. I hear him often above me; in fact, I hear him as I write this. Who was Archie? What was the idea? I wonder. Ah, well, I have my garden, and for that I am indebted to Archie the garru- 40 Column lous. It is nearly midnight now. The roar of London has died away to a fretful murmur, and somehow across this baking town a breeze has found its way. It whis- pers over the green grass, in the ivy that climbs my wall, in the soft murky folds of my curtains. Whispers what? Whispers, perhaps, the dreams that go with this, the first of my letters to you. They are dreams that even I dare not whisper yet. And so good night. THE STRAWBERRY MAN. CHAPTER III WITH a smile that betrayed un- usual interest, the daughter of the Texas statesman read that letter on Thursday morning in her room at the Carlton. There was no question about it the first epistle from the straw- berry-mad one had caught and held her attention. All day, as she dragged her father through picture galleries, she found herself looking forward to another morning, wondering, eager. But on the following morning Sadie Haight, the maid through whom this odd correspondence was passing, had no letter to deliver. The news rather disappointed the daughter of Texas. At noon she in- 42 The Agony; Column sisted on returning to the hotel for lunch- eon, though, as her father pointed out, they were far from the Carlton at the time. Her journey was rewarded. Letter number two was waiting; and as she read she gasped. DEAR LADY AT THE CARLTON : I am writing this at three in the morning, with London silent as the grave, beyond our garden. That I am so late in getting to it is not because I did not think of you all day yesterday; not because I did not sit down at my desk at seven last evening to address you. Believe me, only the most startling, the most appalling accident could have held me up. That most startling, most appalling ac- cident has happened* I am tempted to give you the news at 43 The Agoay; Column, once in one striking and terrible sentence. And I could write that sentence. A trag- edy, wrapped in mystery as impenetra- ble as a London fog, has befallen our quiet little house in Adelphi Terrace. In their basement room the Walters family, sleep- less, overwhelmed, sit silent; on the dark stairs outside my door I hear at intervals the tramp of men on unhappy missions But no ; I must go back to the very start of it all : Last night I had an early dinner at Simpson's, in the Strand so early that I was practically alone in the restaurant. The letter I was about to write to you was uppermost in my mind and, having quickly dined, I hurried back to my rooms. I remember clearly that, as I stood in the street before our house fum- bling for my keys, Big Ben on the Parlia- 44 Column ment Buildings struck the hour of seven. The chime of the great bell rang out in our peaceful thoroughfare like a loud and friendly greeting. Gaining my study, I sat down at once to write. Over my head I could hear Captain Fraser-Freer moving about at- tiring himself, probably, for dinner. I Xvas thinking, with an amused smile, how horrified he would be if he knew that the crude American below him had dined at the impossible hour of six, when suddenly 1 heard, in that room above me, some stranger talking in a harsh determined tone. Then came the captain's answering Voice, calmer, more dignified. This con- versation went along for some time, grow- ing each moment more excited. Though I could not distinguish a word of it, I had the uncomfortable feeling that there was 45 The Agony Column a controversy on ; and I remember feeling annoyed that any one should thus interfere with my composition of your letter, which I regarded as most important, you may be sure. At the end of five minutes of argument there came the heavy thump-thump of men struggling above me. It recalled my college days, when we used to hear the fellows in the room above us throwing each other about in an excess of youth and high spirits. But this seemed more grim, more determined, and I did not like it. However, I reflected that it was none of my business. I tried to think about my letter. The struggle ended with a particularly heavy thud that shook our ancient house to its foundations. I sat listening, some- how very much depressed. There was no The Agony; Column further sound. It was not entirely dark outside the long twilight and the fru- gal Walters had not lighted the hall lamps. Somebody was coming down the stairs very quietly but their creaking betrayed him. I waited for him to pass through the shaft of light that poured from the door open at my back. At that moment Fate intervened in the shape of a breeze through my windows, the door banged shut, and a heavy man rushed by me in the darkness and ran down the stairs. I knew he was heavy, because the passageway was narrow and he had to push me aside to get by. I heard him swear beneath his breath. Quickly I went to a hall window at the far end that looked out on the street. But the front door did not open ; no one came out. I was puzzled for a second; then I 47 The AgoRY Column reentered my room and hurried to my balcony. I could make out the dim figure of a man running through the garden at the rear that garden of which I have so often spoken. He did not try to open the gate; he climbed it, and so disappeared from sight into the alley. For a moment I considered. These were odd actions, surely; but was it my place to interfere? I remembered the cold stare in the eyes of Captain Fraser- Freer when I presented that letter. I saw him standing motionless in his murky study, as amiable as a statue. Would he welcome an intrusion from me now? Finally I made up my mind to forget these things and went down to find Wal- ters. He and his wife were eating their dinner in the basement. I told him what had happened. He said he had let no The Agony Column visitor in to see the captain, and was in- clined to view my misgivings with a cold British eye. However, I persuaded him to go with me to the captain's rooms. The captain's door was open. Remem- bering that in England the way of the intruder is hard, I ordered Walters to go first. He stepped into the room, where the gas flickered feebly in an aged chande- lier. "My God, sir!" said Walters, a servant even now. And at last I write that sentence: Cap- tain Fraser-Freer of the Indian Army layj dead on the floor, a smile that was almost a sneer on his handsome English face! The horror of it is strong with me now as I sit in the silent morning in this room of mine which is so like the one in which the captain died. He had been stabbed 49 Column just over the heart, and my first thought was of that odd Indian knife which I had seen lying on his study table. I turned quickly to seek it, but it was gone. And as I looked at the table it came to me that here in this dusty room there must be finger prints many finger prints. The room was quite in order, despite those sounds of struggle. One or two odd matters met my eye. On the table stood a box from a florist in Bond Street. The lid had been removed and I saw that the box contained a number of white asters. Be- side the box lay a scarf-pin an emerald scarab. And not far from the captain's body lay what is known owing to the German city where it is made as a Hom- burg hat. I recalled that it is most important at such times that nothing be disturbed, and The Agoav Column I turned to old Walters. His face was like this paper on which I write; his knees trembled beneath him. "Walters," said I, "we must leave things just as they are until the police ar- rive. Come with me while I notify Scot- land Yard." "Very good, sir," said Walters. We went down then to the telephone in the lower hall, and I called up the Yard. I was told that an inspector would come at once and I went back to my room to wait for him. You can well imagine the feelings that were mine as I waited. Before this mys- tery should be solved, I foresaw that I might be involved to a degree that was unpleasant if not dangerous. Walters would remember that I first came here as one acquainted with the captain. He The Agoav Column had noted, I felt sure, the lack of intimacy between the captain and myself, once the former arrived from India. He would no doubt testify that I had been most anx- ious to obtain lodgings in the same house with Fraser-Freer. Then there was the matter of my letter from Archie. I must keep that secret, I felt sure. Lastly, there was not a living soul to back me up in my story of the quarrel that preceded the captain's death, of the man who escaped by way of the garden. Alas, thought I, even the most stupid policeman can not fail to look upon me with the eye of suspicion! In about twenty minutes three men ar- rived from Scotland Yard. By that time I had worked myself up into a state of absurd nervousness. I heard Walters let them in; heard them climb the stairs and 52 Column walk about in the room overhead. In a short time Walters knocked at my door and told me that Chief Inspector Bray desired to speak to me. As I preceded the servant up the stairs I felt toward him as an accused murderer must feel toward the witness who has it in his power to swear his life away. He was a big active man Bray; blond as are so many Englishmen. His every move spoke efficiency. Trying to act as unconcerned as an innocent man should but failing miserably, I fear I related to him my story of the voices, the struggle, and the heavy man who had got by me in the hall and later climbed our gate. He listened without comment. At the end he said: "You were acquainted with the cap- tain?" 53 The Agoav Column "Slightly," I told him. Archie's letter kept popping into my mind, frightening me. "I had just met him that is all; through a friend of his Archibald En- wright was the name." "Is Enwright in London to vouch for you?" "I'm afraid not. I last heard of him in Interlaken." "Yes? How did you happen to take rooms in this house?" "The first time I called to see the cap- tain he had not yet arrived from India. I was looking for lodgings and I took a great fancy to the garden here." It sounded silly, put like that. I wasn't surprised that the inspector eyed me with scorn. But I rather wished he hadn't. Bray began to walk about the room, ignoring me. 54 The AgoRY Column "White asters; scarab pin; Homburg hat," he detailed, pausing before the table where those strange exhibits lay. A constable came forward carrying newspapers in his hand. "What is it?" Bray asked. "The Dally Mail, sir," said the con- stable. "The issues of July twenty-sev- enth, twenty-eighth, twenty-ninth and thirtieth." Bray took the papers in his hand, glanced at them and tossed them contemp- tuously into a waste-basket. He turned to Walters. "Have you notified the captain's fam- ily?" he asked. "Sorry, sir," said Walters; "but I was BO taken aback! Nothing like this has ever happened to me before. I'll go at pnce " Column "No," replied Bray sharply. "Never mind. I'll attend to it " There was a knock at the door. Bray called "Come!" and a slender boy, frail but with a military bearing, entered. "Hello, Walters!" he said, smiling. 4 What's up? I" He stopped suddenly as his eyes fell upon the divan where Fraser-Freer lay. In an instant he was at the dead man's side. "Stephen!" he cried in anguish. "Who are you?" demanded the inspec- tor rather rudely, I thought. "It's the captain's brother, sir," put in Walters. "Lieutenant Norman Fraser- Freer, of the Royal Fusiliers." There fell a silence. "A great calamity, sir " began Wal- ters to the boy. 56 The Agony; Column I have rarely seen any one so overcome as young Fraser-Freer. Watching him, it seemed to me that the affection existing between him and the man on the divan must have been a beautiful thing. He turned away from his brother at last, and Walters sought to give him some idea of what had happened. "You will pardon me, gentlemen," said the lieutenant. "This has been a terrible shock! I didn't dream, of course I just dropped in for a word with with him. And now " We said nothing. We let him apolo- gize, as a true Englishman must, for his public display of emotion. "I'm sorry," Bray remarked in a mo- ment, his eyes still shifting about the room "especially as England may soon have great need of men like the captain. Now, 57 The Agony; Column gentlemen, I want to say this: I am the Chief of the Special Branch at the Yard. This is no ordinary murder. For reasons I can not disclose and, I may add, for the best interests of the empire news of the captain's tragic death must be kept for the present out of the newspapers. I mean, of course, the manner of his going. A mere death notice, you understand the inference being that it was a natural taking off." "I understand," said the lieutenant, as one who knows more than he tells. "Thank you," said Bray. "I shall leave you to attend to the matter, as far as your family is concerned. You will take charge of the body. As for the rest of you, I for- bid you to mention this matter outside." And now Bray stood looking, with a puzzled air, at me. Column i "You are an American?" he said, and I judged he did not care for Americans. "I am," I told him. "Know any one at your consulate?" he 'demanded. Thank heaven, I did! There is an un- der-secretary there named Watson I went to college with him. I mentioned him to Bray. "Very good," said the inspector. "You are free to go. But you must understand that you are an important witness in this case, and if you attempt to leave London you will be locked up." So I came back to my rooms, horribly entangled in a mystery that is little to my liking. I have been sitting here in my study for some time, going over it again and again. There have been many foot- steps on the stairs, many voices in the hall* 59 The Agon Column Waiting here for the dawn, I have come to be very sorry for the cold hand- some captain. After all, he was a man; his very tread on the floor above, which I shall never hear again, told me that. What does it all mean? Who was the man in the hall, the man who had argued so loudly, who had struck so surely with that queer Indian knife? Where is the knife now? And, above all, what do the white asters signify? And the scarab scarf-pin? And that absurd Homburg hat? Lady of the Carlton, you wanted mys- tery. When I wrote that first letter to you, little did I dream that I should soon liave it to give you in overwhelming measure. And believe me when I say it through all this your face has been con- 60 The Agoav Column stantly before me your face as I saw it that bright morning in the hotel breakfast room. You have forgiven me, I know, for the manner in which I addressed you. I had seen your eyes and the temptation was great very great. It is dawn in the garden now and Lon- ; don is beginning to stir. So this time it is * good morning, my lady. THE STRAWBERRY MAN. CHAPTER IV IfE IS hardly necessary to intimate that this letter came as something of a shock to the young woman who re- ceived it. For the rest of that day the many sights of London held little inter- est for her so little, indeed, that her per- spiring father began to see visions of his beloved Texas; and once hopefully sug- gested an early return home. The cool- ness with which this idea was received plainly showed him that he was on the wrong track ; so he sighed and sought sol- ace at the bar. That night the two from Texas at- tended His Majesty's Theater, where 62 The Agony; Column, Bernard Shaw's latest play was being per- formed; and the witty Irishman would have been annoyed to see the scant atten- tion one lovely young American in the audience gave his lines. The American in question retired at midnight, with eager thoughts turned toward the morning. And she was not disappointed. When her maid, a stolid Englishwoman, ap- peared at her bedside early Saturday she carried a letter, which she handed over, with the turned-up nose of one who aids but does not approve. Quickly the girl tore it open. DEAR TEXAS LADY: I am writing this late in the afternoon. The sun is casting long black shadows on the garden lawn, and the whole world is so bright and mat- ter-of-fact I have to argue with myself to 63 The Agoav Column be convinced that the events of that tragic night through which I passed really hap- pened. The newspapers this morning helped to make it all seem a dream ; not a line not a word, that I can find. When I think of [America, and how by this time the re- porters would be swarming through our house if this thing had happened over there, I am the more astonished. But then, I know these English papers. The great Joe Chamberlain died the other night at ten, and it was noon the next day when the first paper to carry the story appeared screaming loudly that it had scored a beat. It had. Other lands, other methods. It was probably not difficult for Bray to keep journalists such as these in the vinter in Texas. They'll go in. It would be national suicide if they didn't." His daughter stared at him. She was unaware that it was the bootblack at the Carlton he was now quoting. She began to think he knew more about foreign af- fairs than she had given him credit for. "Yes, sir," he went on; "we've got to travel fast. This won't be a healthy neighborhood for non-combatants when the ruction starts. I'm going if I have to buy a liner!" "Nonsense!" said the girl. "This is the chance of a lifetime. I won't be cheated out of it by a silly old dad. Why, here we are, face to face with history!" "American history is good enough for me," he spread-eagled. "What are you looking at?" The Agoay Column "Provincial to the death I" she said thoughtfully. "You old dear I love you so ! Some of our statesmen over home are going to look pretty foolish now in the face of things they can't understand. I hope you're not going to be one of them." "Twaddle!" he cried. "I'm going to the steamship offices to-day and argue as I never argued for a vote." His daughter saw that he was deter- mined; and, wise from long experience, she did not try to dissuade him. London that hot Monday was a city on the alert, a city of hearts heavy with dread. The rumors in one special edi- tion of the papers were denied in the next and reaffirmed in the next. Men who could look into the future walked the streets with faces far from happy. Unrest ruled the town. And it found its 142 The Agony Column echo in the heart of the girl from Texas as she thought of her young friend of the Agony Column "in durance vile" behind! the frowning walls of Scotland Yard. That afternoon her father appeared, with the beaming mien of the victor, and! announced that for a stupendous sum he had bought the tickets of a man who was to have sailed on the steamship Saronla three days hence. "The boat train leaves at ten Thursday morning," he said. "Take your last look at Europe and be ready." Three days! His daughter listened! with sinking heart. Could she in three days' time learn the end of that strange mystery, know the final fate of the man who had first addressed her so unconven- tionally in a public print? Why, at the end of three days he might still be in H3 The Agoav Column Scotland Yard, a prisoner! She could not leave if that were true she simply could not. Almost she was on the point of telling her father the story of the whole affair, confident that she could soothe his anger and enlist his aid. She decided to wait until the next morning; and, if no letter came then But on Tuesday morning a letter did come and the beginning of it brought pleasant news. The beginning -yes. But the end! This was the letter: DEAR ANXIOUS LADY: Is it too much for me to assume that you have been just that, knowing as you did that I was locked up for the murder of a captain in the In- dian Army, with the evidence all against me and hope a very still small voice in- deed? 144 The Agony; Column Well, dear lady, be anxious no longer. I have just lived through the most as- tounding day of all the astounding days that have been my portion since last Thursday. And now, in the dusk, I sit again in my rooms, a free man, and write to you in what peace and quiet I can com- mand after the startling adventure through which I have recently passed. Suspicion no longer points to me ; con- stables no longer eye me; Scotland Yard is not even slightly interested in me. For the murderer of Captain Fraser-Freer has been caught at last! Sunday night I spent ingloriously in a cell in Scotland Yard. I could not sleep. I had so much to think of you, for ex- ample, and at intervals how I might es- cape from the folds of the net that had closed so tightly about me. My friend The AgoaY Column at the consulate, Watson, called on me late in the evening ; and he was very kind. But there was a note lacking in his voice, and after he was gone the terrible certainty came into my mind he believed that I was guilty after all. The night passed, and a goodly portion of to-day went by as the poets say with lagging feet. I thought of London, yel- low in the sun. I thought of the Carlton I suppose there are no more strawber- ries by this time. And my waiter that stiff-backed Prussian is home in Deutschland now, I presume, marching with his regiment. I thought of you. At three o'clock this afternoon they came for me and I was led back to the room belonging to Inspector Bray. When I entered, however, the inspector was not there only Colonel Hughes, immaculate 146 The Agony Column and self-possessed, as usual, gazing out the window into the cheerless stone court. He turned when I entered. I suppose I must have had a most woebegone appearance, for a look of regret crossed his face. "My dear fellow," he cried, "my most humble apologies! I intended to have you released last night. But, believe me, I have been frightfully busy." I said nothing. What could I say? The fact that he had been busy struck me as an extremely silly excuse. But the in- ference that my escape from the toils of the law was imminent set my heart to thumping. "I fear you can never forgive me for throwing you over as I did yesterday," he went on. "I can only say that it was ab- solutely necessary as you shall shortly understand." H7 The Agony; Column I thawed a bit. After all, there was an unmistakable sincerity in his voice and manner. "We are waiting for Inspector Bray," continued the colonel. "I take it you wish to see this thing through?" "To the end," I answered. "Naturally. The inspector was called away yesterday immediately after our in- terview with him. He had business on the Continent, I understand. But fortu- nately I managed to reach him at Dover and he has come back to London. I wanted him, you see, because I have found the murderer of Captain Fraser- Freer." I thrilled to hear that, for from my point of view it was certainly a consum- mation devoutly to be wished. The colo- nel did not speak again. In a few min- 148 The Agoav Column utes the door opened and Bray came in. His clothes looked as though he had slept in them; his little eyes were bloodshot. But in those eyes there was a fire I shall never forget. Hughes bowed. "Good afternoon, Inspector," he said. "I'm really sorry I had to interrupt you as I did ; but I most awfully wanted you to know that you owe me a Homburg hat." He went closer to the detective. "You see, I have won that wager. I have found the man who murdered Cap- tain Fraser-Freer." Curiously enough, Bray said nothing. He sat down at his desk and idly glanced through the pile of mail that lay upon it. Finally he looked up and said in a weary tone: "You're very clever, I'm sure, Colonel Hughes." 149 The Agony; Column "Oh I wouldn't say that," replied Hughes. u Luck was with me from the first. I am really very glad to have been of service in the matter, for I am con- vinced that if I had not taken part in the search it would have gone hard with some innocent man." Bray's big pudgy hands still played idly with the mail on his desk. Hughes went on : "Perhaps, as a clever detective, you will be interested in the series of events which enabled me to win that Homburg hat? You have heard, no doubt, that the man I have caught is Von der Herts ten years ago the best secret-service man in the em- ploy of the Berlin government, but for the past few years mysteriously missing from our line of vision. We've been won- 'dering about him at the War Office." 150 Column The colonel dropped into a chair, fac- ing Bray. "You know Von der Herts, of course?" he remarked casually. "Of course," said Bray, still in that (dead tired voice. "He is the head of that crowd in Eng- land," went on Hughes. "Rather a feather in my cap to get him but I mustn't boast. Poor Fraser-Freer would have got him if I hadn't only Von def Herts had the luck to get the captain first." Bray raised his eyes. "You said you were going to tell me " he began. "And so I am," said Hughes. "Cap- tain Fraser-Freer got in rather a mess in India and failed of promotion. If was suspected that he was discontented, soured 151 The AORV Column on the Service; and the Countess Sophie de Graf was set to beguile him with her charms, to kill his loyalty and win him over to her crowd. "It was thought she had succeeded the Wilhelmstrasse thought so we at the War Office thought so, as long as he stayed in India. "But when the captain and the woman came on to London we discovered that we had done him a great injustice. He let us know, when the first chance offered, that he was trying to redeem himself, to round up a dangerous band of spies by pretend- ing to be one of them. He said that it was his mission in London to meet Von der Herts, the greatest of them all; and that, once he had located this man, we would hear from him again. In the weeks that followed I continued to keep a watch on 152 Column the countess ; and I kept track of the cap- tain, too, in a general way, for I'm ashamed to say I was not quite sure of him." The colonel got up and walked to the window; then turned and continued: "Captain Fraser-Freer and Von der Herts were completely unknown to each other. The mails were barred as a means of communication; but Fraser-Freer knew that in some way word from the master would reach him, and he had had a tip to watch the personal column of the Daily Mall. Now we have the explana- tion of those four odd messages. From that column the man from Rangoon learned that he was to wear a white aster in his button-hole, a scarab pin in his tie, a Homburg hat on his head, and meet Von der Herts at Ye Old Gambrinus Res- 153 The Agony; Column taurant in Regent Street, last Thursday night at ten o'clock. As we know, he made all arrangements to comply with those directions. He made other arrange- ments as well. Since it was out of the question for him to come to Scotland Yard, by skilful maneuvering he man- aged to interview an inspector of police at the Hotel Cecil. It was agreed that on Thursday night Von der Herts would be placed under arrest the moment he made himself known to the captain." Hughes paused. Bray still idled with his pile of letters, while the colonel re- garded him gravely. "Poor Fraser-Freer I" Hughes went on. "Unfortunately for him, Von der Herts knew almost as soon as did the inspector that a plan was afoot to trap him. There was but one course open to him : He lo- 154 The Agoay; Column cated the captain's lodgings, went there at seven that night, and killed a loyal and brave Englishman where he stood." A tense silence filled the room. I sat on the edge of my chair, wondering just where all this unwinding of the tangle was leading us. "I had little, indeed, to work on," went on Hughes. "But I had this advantage: The spy thought the police, and the police alone, were seeking the murderer. He was at no pains to throw me off his track, because he did not suspect that I was on it. For weeks my men had been watching the countess. I had them con- tinue to do so. I figured that sooner or later Von der Herts would get in touch ;with her. I was right. And when at last I saw with my own eyes the man who must, beyond all question, be Von der 155 The Agony Column Herts, I was astounded, my dear Inspec- tor, I was overwhelmed." "Yes?" said Bray. "I set to work then in earnest to connect him with that night in Adelphi Terrace. All the finger marks in the captain's study were for some reason destroyed, but I found others outside, in the dust on that seldom-used gate which leads from the garden. Without his knowing, I secured from the man I suspected the imprint of his right thumb. A comparison was startling. Next I went down into Fleet Street and luckily managed to get hold of the typewritten copy sent to the Mall bearing those four messages. I noticed that in these the letter a was out of align- ment. I maneuvered to get a letter writ- ten on a typewriter belonging to my man. The a was out of alignment. Then Archi- 156 Column bald Enwright, a renegade and waster well known to us as serving other coun- tries, came to England. My man and he met at Ye Old Gambrinus, in Regent Street. And finally, on a visit to the lodg- ings of this man who, I was now certain, was Von der Herts, under the mattress of his bed I found this knife." And Colonel Hughes threw down upon the inspector's desk the knife from India that I had last seen in the study of Captain Fraser-Freer. "All these points of evidence were in my hands yesterday morning in this room," Hughes went on. "Still, the an- swer they gave me was so unbelievable, so astounding, I was not satisfied; I wanted even stronger proof. That is why I di- rected suspicion to my American friend here. I was waiting. I knew that at last 157 The Agony Column Von der 'Herts realized the danger he was in. I felt that if opportunity were offered he would attempt to escape from England; and then our proofs of his guilt would be unanswerable, despite his clev- erness. True enough, in the afternoon he secured the release of the countess, and to- gether they started for the Continent. I was lucky enough to get him at Dover and glad to let the lady go on." And now, for the first time, the start- ling truth struck me full in the face as Hughes smiled down at his victim. "Inspector Bray," he said, "or Von der Herts, as you choose, I arrest you on two counts: First, as the head of the Wil- helmstrasse spy system in England; sec- ond, as the murderer of Captain Fraser- Freer. And, if you will allow me, I wish to compliment you on your efficiency." The Agony; Column Bray did not reply for a moment. I sat numb in my chair. Finally the inspector looked up. He actually tried to smile. "You win the hat," he said, "but you must go to Homburg for it. I will gladly pay all expenses." "Thank you," answered Hughes. "I hope to visit your country before long; but I shall not be occupied with hats. Again I congratulate you. You were a bit careless, but your position justified that. As head of the department at Scot- land Yard given over to the hunt for spies, precaution doubtless struck you as unnec- essary. How unlucky for poor Fraser- Freer that it was to you he went to ar- range 'for your own arrest! I got that information from a clerk at the Cecil. You were quite right, from your point of view, to kill him. And, as I say, you could 159 The Agony; Column afford to be rather reckless. You had ar- ranged that when the news of his murder came to Scotland Yard you yourself would be on hand to conduct the search for the guilty man. A happy situation, was it not?" "It seemed so at the time," admitted Bray; and at last I thought I detected a note of bitterness in his voice. "I'm very sorry really," said Hughes. "To-day, or to-morrow at the latest, Eng- land will enter the war. You know what that means, Von der Herts. The Tower of London and a firing squad !" Deliberately he walked away from the inspector, and stood facing the window. iVon der Herts was fingering idly that In- dian knife which lay on his desk. With a quick hunted look about the room, he raised his hand ; and before I could leap 1 60 The Agony Column forward to stop him he had plunged the knife into his heart. Colonel Hughes turned round at my. cry, but even at what met his eyes now; that Englishman was imperturbable. "Too bad!" he said. "Really too bad! The man had courage and, beyond all doubt, brains. But this is most consid- erate of him. He has saved me such a lot of trouble." The colonel effected my release at once ; and he and I walked down Whitehall to- gether in the bright sun that seemed so good to me after the bleak walls of the Yard. Again he apologized for turning suspicion my way the previous day; but I assured him I held no grudge for that. "One or two things I do not under- stand," I said. "That letter I brought from Interlaken " 161 The Agony; Column "Simple enough," he replied. "En- wright who, by the way, is now in the Tower wanted to communicate with Fraser-Freer, who he supposed was a loyal member of the band. Letters sent by post seemed dangerous. With your kind assistance he informed the captain of his whereabouts and the date of his im- minent arrival in London. Fraser-Freer, not wanting you entangled in his plans, eliminated you by denying the existence of this cousin the truth, of course." "Why," I asked, "did the countess call on me to demand that I alter my testi- mony?" "Bray sent her. He had rifled Fraser- Freer's desk and he held that letter from Enwright. He was most anxious to fix the guilt upon the young lieutenant's head. You and your testimony as to the 162 Column hour of the crime stood in the way. He sought to intimidate you with threats " "But" "I know you are wondering why the countess confessed to me next day. I had the woman in rather a funk. In the meshes of my rapid-fire questioning she became hopelessly involved. This was because she was suddenly terrified; she realized I must have been watching her for weeks, and that perhaps Von der Herts was not so immune from suspicion as he supposed. At the proper moment I suggested that I might have to take her to Inspector Bray. This gave her an idea. She made her fake confession to reach his side; once there, she warned him of his danger and they fled together." We walked along a moment in silence. All about us the lurid special editions of The Agony Column the afternoon were flaunting their predic- tions of the horror to come. The face of the colonel was grave. "How long had Von der Herts held his position at the Yard?" I asked. "For nearly five years," Hughes an- swered. "It seems incredible," I murmured. "So it does," he answered; "but it is only the first of many incredible things that this war will reveal. Two months from now we shall all have forgotten it in the face of new revelations far more un- believable." He sighed. "If these men about us realized the terrible ordeal that lies ahead! Misgoverned; unprepared I shudder at the thought of the sacrifices we must make, many of them in vain. But I suppose that somehow, some day, we shall muddle through." 164 The Agony Column He bade me good-by in Trafalgar Square, saying that he must at once seek out the father and brother of the late cap- tain, and tell them the news that their kinsman was really loyal to his country. "It will come to them as a ray of light in the dark my news," he said. "And now, thank you once again." We parted and I came back here to my lodgings. The mystery is finally solved, though in such a way it is difficult to be- lieve that it was anything but a nightmare at any time. But solved none the less ; and I should be at peace, except for one great black fact that haunts me, will not let me rest. I must tell you, dear lady And! yet I fear it means the end of everything. If only I can make you understand! I have walked my floor, deep in thought, in puzzlement, in indecision. 165 The Agony; Column Now I have made up my mind. There is no other way I must tell you the truth. Despite the fact that Bray was Von der Herts ; despite the fact that he killed him- self at the discovery despite this and that, and everything Bray did not kill Captain Fraser-Freer! On last Thursday evening, at a little after seven o'clock, I myself climbed the stairs, entered the captain's rooms, picked up that knife from his desk, and stabbed him just above the heart! What provocation I was under, what stern necessity moved me all this you must wait until to-morrow to know. I shall spend another anxious day prepar- ing my defense, hoping that through some miracle of mercy you may forgive me understand that there was nothing else I could do. 166 The Agony; Column Do not judge, dear lady, until you know everything until all my evidence is in your lovely hands. YOURS, IN ALL HUMILITY. The first few paragraphs of this the sixth and next to the last letter from the Agony Column man had brought a smile of relief to the face of the girl who read. She was decidedly glad to learn that her friend no longer languished back of those gray walls on Victoria Embankment. With excitement that increased as she went along, she followed Colonel Hughes as in the letter he moved nearer and nearer his denouement, until finally his finger pointed to Inspector Bray sitting guilty in his chair. This was an emi- nently satisfactory solution, and it served the inspector right for locking up her friend. Then, with the suddenness of a Column bomb from a Zeppelin, came, at the end, her strawberry man's confession of guilt. He was the murderer, after all ! He ad- mitted it! She could scarcely believe her eyes. Yet there it was, in ink as violet as those eyes, on the note paper that had become so familiar to her during the thrilling week just past. She read it a second time, and yet a third. Her amazement gave way to anger; her cheeks flamed. Still he had asked her not to judge until all his evi- dence was in. This was a reasonable re- quest surely, and she could not in fairness refuse to grant it. CHAPTER VIII SO BEGAN an anxious day, not only for the girl from Texas but for all London as well. Her father was bursting with new diplomatic secrets re- cently extracted from his bootblack ad- viser. Later, in Washington, he was des- tined to be a marked man because of his grasp of the situation abroad. No one suspected the bootblack, the power behind the throne ; but the gentleman from Texas was destined to think of that able diplo- mat many times, and to wish that he still had him at his feet to advise him. "War by midnight, sure!" he pro- claimed on the morning of this fateful Tuesday. "I tell you, Marian, we're 1169 The Agony; Column lucky to have our tickets on the Saronia. Five thousand dollars wouldn't buy them from me to-day! I'll be a happy man when we go aboard that liner day after to-morrow." Day after to-morrow! The girl won- dered. At any rate, she would have that last letter then the letter that was to con- tain whatever defense her young friend could offer to explain his dastardly act. She waited eagerly for that final epistle. The day dragged on, bringing at its close England's entrance into the war; and the Carlton bootblack was a prophet not without honor in a certain Texas heart. And on the following morning there arrived a letter which was torn open by eager trembling fingers. The letter spoke : DEAR LADY JUDGE: This is by far the 170 Column hardest to write of all the letters you have had from me. For twenty-four hours I have been planning it. Last night I walked on the Embankment while the hansoms jogged by and the lights of the tramcars danced on Westminster Bridge just as the fireflies used to in the garden back of our house in Kansas. While I walked I planned. To-day, shut up in my rooms, I was also planning. And yet now, when I sit down to write, I am still con- fused; still at a loss where to begin and what to say, once I have begun. At the close of my last letter I confessed' to you that it was I who murdered Cap- tain Fraser-Freer. That is the truth. Soften the blow as I may, it all comes Hown to that. The bitter truth ! Not a week ago last Thursday night at seven I climbed our dark stairs and 171 The Agoav Column plunged a knife into the heart of that de- fenseless gentleman. If only I could point out to you that he had offended me in some way; if I could prove to you that his death was necessary to me, as it really was to Inspector Bray then there might be some hope of your ultimate pardon. But, alas ! he had been most kind to me kinder than I have allowed you to guess from my letters. There was no actual need to do away with him. Where shall I look for a defense? At the moment the only defense I can think of is simply this the captain knows I killed him! Even as I write this, I hear his footsteps above me, as I heard them when I sat here composing my first letter to you. He is dressing for dinner. We are to dine to- gether at Romano's. 172 BIT The Agony Column And there, my lady, you have finally the answer to the mystery that has I hope puzzled you. I killed my friend the captain in my second letter to you, and all the odd developments that followed lived only in my imagination as I sat here beside the green-shaded lamp in my; study, plotting how I should write seven letters to you that would, as the novel ad- vertisements say, grip your attention to the very end. Oh, I am guilty there is no denying that. And, though I do not wish to ape old Adam and imply that I was tempted by a lovely woman, a strict regard for the truth forces me to add that there is also guilt upon your head. How so? Go back to that message you inserted in the Dally Mall: "The grapefruit lady's great fondness for mystery and ro- mance " 173 The Agony Column You did not know it, of course ; but in those words you passed me a challenge I could not resist; for making plots is the business of life more, the breath of life to me. I have made many; and per- haps you have followed some of them, on Broadway. Perhaps you have seen a play of mine announced for early production in London. There was mention of it in the program at the Palace. That was the business which kept me in England. The project has been abandoned now and I am free to go back home. Thus you see that when you granted me the privilege of those seven letters you played into my hands. So, said I, she longs for mystery and romance. Then, by the Lord Harry, she shall have them! And it was the tramp of Captain Fraser-Freer's boots above my head that 174 The Agoii Column showed me the way. A fine, stalwart, cor- dial fellow the captain who has been very kind to me since I presented my let- ter of introduction from his cousin, Arch- ibald Enwright. Poor Archie ! A meek, correct little soul, who would be horrified beyond expression if he knew that of him I had made a spy and a frequenter of Limehouse! The dim beginnings of the plot were in my mind when I wrote that first letter, suggesting that all was not regular in the matter of Archie's note of introduction. Before I wrote my second, I knew that nothing but the death of Fraser-Freer would do me. I recalled that Indian knife I had seen upon his desk, and from that moment he was doomed. At that time I had no idea how I should solve the mystery. But I had read and wondered at 175 Column those four strange messages in the Mail, and I resolved that they must figure in the scheme of things. The fourth letter presented difficulties until I returned from dinner that night and saw a taxi waiting before our quiet house. Hence the visit of the woman with the lilac perfume. I am afraid the Wilhelmstrasse would have little use for a lady spy who advertised Herself in so foolish a manner. Time for writing the fifth letter arrived. I felt that I should now be placed under arrest. I had a faint little hope that you would be sorry about that. Oh, I'm a brute, I know! Early in the game I had told the cap- tain of the cruel way in which I had dis- posed of him. He was much amused; but he insisted, absolutely, that he must be vindicated before the close of the series, The Agony Column and I was with him there. He had been so bully about it all! A chance remark of his gave me my solution. He said he Had it on good authority that the chief of the Czar's bureau for capturing spies in Russia was himself a spy. And so why not a spy in Scotland Yard? I assure you, I am most contrite as I set all this down here. You must remember ithat when I began my story there was no idea of war. Now all Europe is aflame; and in the face of the great conflict, the awful suffering to come, I and my little plot begin to look well, I fancy you know just how we look. Forgive me. I am afraid I can never find the words to tell you how important it seemed to interest you in my letters to make you feel that I am an entertain- ing person worthy of your notice. That 1177 The AgotiY Column A morning when you entered the Carlton breakfast room was really the biggest in my life. I felt as though you had brought with you through that doorway But I have no right to say it. I have the right to say nothing save that now it is all left to you. If I have offended, then I shall never hear from you again. The captain will be here in a moment. It is near the hour set and he is never late. He is not to return to India, but expects to be drafted for the Expeditionary Force that will be sent to the Continent. I hope the German Army will be kinder to him than I was! My name is Geoffrey West. I live at nineteen Adelphi Terrace in rooms that look down on the most wonderful garden in London. That, at least, is real. It is yery quiet there to-night, with the city The Agoiv Column and its continuous hum of war and terror seemingly a million miles away. Shall we meet at last? The answer rests entirely with you. But, believe me, I shall be anxiously waiting to know; and if you decide to give me a chance to ex- plain to denounce myself to you in per- son then a happy man will say good-by to this garden and these dim dusty rooms and follow you to the ends of the earth aye, to Texas itself! Captain Fraser-Freer is coming down the stairs. Is this good-by forever, my lady? With all my soul, I hope not. YOUR CONTRITE STRAWBERRY MAN. CHAPTER IX WORDS are futile things with which to attempt a description of the feelings of the girl at the Carlton as she read this, the last letter of seven written to her through the medium of her maid, Sadie Haight. Turning the pages of the dictionary casually, one might enlist a few for example, amaze- ment, anger, unbelief, wonder. Perhaps, to go back to the letter a, even amusement. We may leave her with the solution to the puzzle in her hand, the Saronla a little more than a day away, and a weirdly mixed company of emotions struggling in her soul. 1 80 The Agony Column And leaving her thus, let us go back to Adelphi Terrace and a young man ex- ceedingly worried. Once he knew that his letter was 'de- livered, Mr. Geoffrey West took his place most humbly on the anxious seat. There he writhed through the long hours of Wednesday morning. Not to prolong this painful picture, let us hasten to add that at three o'clock that same afternoon came a telegram that was to end suspense. He tore it open and read : STRAWBERRY MAN: I shall never, never forgive you. But we are sailing to- morrow on the Saronia. Were you think- ing of going home soon? MARIAN A. LARNED. Thus it happened that, a few minutes later, to the crowd of troubled Americans in a certain steamship booking office there 181 The Agony; Column was added a wild-eyed young man who further upset all who saw him. To weary clerks he proclaimed in fiery tones that he must sail on the Saronia. There seemed to be no way of appeasing him. The offer of a private liner would not have inter- ested him. He raved and tore his hair. He ranted. All to no avail. There was, in plain American, "nothing doing!" Damp but determined, he sought among the crowd for one who had book- ings on the Saronia. He could find, at first, no one so lucky; 'but finally he ran across Tommy Gray. Gray, an old friend, admitted when pressed that he had a pas- sage on that most desirable boat. But the offer of all the king's horses and all the king's gold left him unmoved. Much, he said, as he would have liked to oblige, he 182 Column and his wife were determined. They would sail. It was then that Geoffrey West made a) compact with his friend. He secured from him the necessary steamer labels and! it was arranged that his baggage was to go aboard the Saronia as the property of Gray. "But," protested Gray, "even suppose you do put this through ; suppose you do manage to sail without a ticket where will you sleep? In chains somewhere be- low, I fancy." "No matter!" bubbled West. "I'll sleep in the dining saloon, in a lifeboat, on the lee scuppers whatever they are. I'll sleep in the air, without any visible support ! I'll sleep anywhere nowhere but I'll sail! And as for irons they don't make 'em strong enough to hold me." The Agony Column At five o'clock on Thursday afternoon the Saronia slipped smoothly away from a Liverpool dock. Twenty-five hundred Americans about twice the number the boat could comfortably carry stood on Her decks and cheered. Some of those in that crowd who had millions of money were booked for the steerage. All of them were destined to experience during that crossing hunger, annoyance, discom- fort. They were to be stepped on, sat on, crowded and jostled. They suspected as much when the boat left the dock. Yet they cheered ! Gayest among them was Geoffrey West, triumphant amid the confusion. He was safely aboard; the boat was on its way! Little Hid it trouble him that he went as a stowaway, since He had no ticket; nothing but an overwhelming He- 184 Column termination to be on the good ship Saro- nla. That night as the Saronia stole along with all deck lights out and every port- hole curtained, West saw on the dim deck the slight figure of a girl who meant much to him. She was standing staring out over the black waters ; and, with wildly beat- ing heart, he approached her, not know- ing what to say, but feeling that a start must be made somehow. "Please pardon me for addressing you," lie began. "But I want to tell you " She turned, startled; and then smiled an odd little smile, which he could not see in the dark. "I beg your pardon," she said. "I Haven't met you, that I recall " "I know," he answered. "That's go- ing to be arranged to-morrow. Mrs. 185 The Agony Column Tommy Gray says you crossed with them" "Mere steamer acquaintances," the girl replied coldly. "Of course! But Mrs. Gray is a dar- ling she'll fix that all right. I just want to say, before to-morrow comes " "Wouldn't it be better to wait?" "I can't! I'm on this ship without a ticket. I've got to go down in a minute and tell the purser that. Maybe he'll throw me overboard; maybe he'll lock me up. I don't know what they do with peo- ple like me. Maybe they'll make a stoker of me. And then I shall have to stoke, with no chance of seeing you again. So that's why I want to say now I'm sorry I have such a keen imagination. It carried me away really it did! I didn't mean to deceive you with those letters ; but, once I 186 Column got started You know, don't you, that I love you with all my heart? From the moment you came into the Carlton that morning I " "Really Mr. Mr. " "West Geoffrey West. I adore you! What can I do to prove it? I'm going to prove it before this ship docks in the North River. Perhaps I'd better talk to your father, and tell him about the Ag- ony Column and those seven letters "You'd better not! He's in a terribly bad humor. The dinner was awful, and the steward said we'd be looking back to It and calling it a banquet before the voy- age ends. Then, too, poor dad says he simply can not sleep in the stateroom they've given him " "All the better! I'll see him at once. If he stands for me now he'll stand for me The Agony; Column tiny time! And, before I go down and beard a harsh-looking purser in his den, ;won't you believe me when I say I'm ideeply in love "In love with mystery and romance ! In love with your own remarkable powers of invention! Really, I can't take you seri- ously " "Before this voyage is ended you'll have to. I'll prove to you that I care. If the purser lets me go free " "You have much to prove," the girl smiled. "To-morrow when Mrs. Tom- my Gray introduces us I may accept you as a builder of plots. I happen to know you are good. But as It's too silly! Bet- ter go and have it out with that purser. 1 ' Reluctantly he went. In five minutes he was back. The girl was still standing by the rail. 188 Column "It's all right!" West said. "I thought I was doing something original, but there were eleven other people in the same fix. One of them is a billionaire from Wall Street. The purser collected some money from us and told us to sleep on the deck * if we could find room." "I'm sorry," said the girl. "I rather fancied you in the role of stoker." She glanced about her at the dim deck. "Isn't this exciting? I'm sure this voyage is go- ing to be filled with mystery and ro- mance." "I know it will be full of romance," West answered. "And the mystery will be can I convince you " "Hush!" broke in the girl. "Here comes father! I shall be very Happy to meet you to-morrow. Poor dad! He's looking for a place to sleep." The Agony Column Five days later poor dad, having slept each night on deck in his clothes while the ship plowed through a cold drizzle, and having starved in a sadly depleted dining saloon, was a sight to move the heart of a political opponent. Imme- diately after a dinner that had scarcely satisfied a healthy Texas appetite he lounged gloomily in the deck chair which was now his stateroom. Jauntily Geof- frey West came and sat at his side. "Mr. Larned," he said, "I've got some- thing for you." And, with a kindly smile, he took from his pocket and handed over a large, warm baked potato. The Texan eagerly ac- cepted the gift. "Where'd you get it?" he demanded, breaking open his treasure. "That's a secret," West answered. "But 190 Column I can get as many as I want. Mr. Larned, I can say this you will not go hungry any longer. And there's something else I ought to speak of. I am sort of aiming Ito marry your daughter." Deep in his potato the Congressman spoke : "What does she say about it?" "Oh, she says there isn't a chance. But" "Then look out, my boy! She's made up her mind to have you." "I'm glad to hear you say that. I really ought to tell you who I am. Also, I want you to know that, before your daughter and I met, I wrote her seven letters " "One minute," broke in the Texan. "Before you go into all that, won't you be a good fellow and tell me where you got this potato?" 191 Column West nodded. "Sure!" he said; and, leaning over, he whispered. For the first time in days a smile ap- peared on the face of the older man. "My boy," he said, "I feel I'm going to like you. Never mind the rest I heard all about you from your friend Gray; and as for those letters they were the only thing that made the first part of this trip bearable. Marian gave them to me to read the night we came on board." Suddenly from out of the clouds a long- lost moon appeared, and bathed that over- crowded ocean liner in a flood of silver. West left the old man to his potato and went to find the daughter. She was standing in the moonlight by the rail of the forward deck, her eyes staring dreamily ahead toward the great 1192 The Agony; Column country that had sent her forth light- heartedly for to adventure and to see. She turned as West came up. "I have just been talking with your father,'' he said. "He tells me he thinks you mean to take me, after all." She laughed. "To-morrow night," she answered, "will be our last on board. I shall give you my final decision then." "But that is twenty- four hours away! Must I wait so long as that?" "A little suspense won't hurt you. I can't forget those long days when I wait- ed for your letters " "I know! But can't you give me just a little hint here to-night?" "I am without mercy absolutely with- out mercy!" And then, as West's fingers closed over 193 The Agony Column her hand, she added softly: "Not even the suspicion of a hint, my dear except to tell you that my answer will be yes." THE END THE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, SANTA CRUZ This book is due on the last DATE stamped below. DEC 2 '84 A MAY 6 '85 N MAY 61985REC'D APR15'91 JUL25199HEC'D APR 15 '93 J UN 15 1992 REG ! D 50m-l,'69(J5643s8)2373 - 3A,1 PS3503.I54A35 3 2106 00209 0345 mi IT ,, 21