UNBFOLDElD 
 
GIFT OF 
 
 
 w\ 
 
BLINDFOLDED 
 
The Wolf threw one malignant look at us and was gone 
 
 See page 2OI 
 
BLINDFOLDED 
 
 By 
 EARLE ASHLEY WALCOTT 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY 
 
 ALICE BARBER STEPHENS 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 A. WESSELS COMPANY 
 1907 
 
COPYRIGHT 1906 
 THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY 
 
 SEPTEMBER 
 
 
fS 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER FAGB 
 
 I A DANGEROUS ERRAND ..... i 
 
 II A CRY FOR HELP ...... n 
 
 III A QUESTION IN THE NIGHT .... 17 
 
 IV A CHANGE OF NAME ..... 26 
 V DODDRIDGE KNAPP ...... 33 
 
 VI A NIGHT AT BORTON S ..... 42 
 
 VII MOTHER BORTON ...... 55 
 
 VIII IN WHICH I MEET A FEW SURPRISES . . 68 
 
 IX A DAY IN THE MARKET ..... 75 
 
 X A TANGLE OF SCHEMES ..... 87 
 
 XI THE DEN OF THE WOLF ..... 97 
 
 XII LUELLA KNAPP ....... in 
 
 XIII A DAY OF GRACE ...... 123 
 
 XIV MOTHER BORTON S ADVICE . . . .137 
 XV I AM IN THE TOILS ..... . 156 
 
 XVI AN ECHO OF WARNING . . . . 171 
 
 XVII IN A FOREIGN LAND . . . . . . 185 
 
 XVIII THE BATTLE IN THE MAZE . . . .202 
 
 XIX A DEAL IN STOCKS ...... 215 
 
 XX MAKING PROGRESS ...... 228 
 
 XXI AT THE BIDDING OF THE UNKNOWN . . 244 
 
 XXII TRAILED ........ 256 
 
BLINDFOLDED 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 A DANGEROUS ERRAND 
 
 r A city of hills with a fringe of houses crowning 
 the lower heights ; half-mountains rising bare in the 
 background and becoming real mountains as they 
 stretched away in the distance to right and left; a 
 confused mass of buildings coming to the water s 
 edge on the flat ; a forest of masts, ships swinging 
 in the stream, and the streaked, yellow, gray-green 
 water of the bay taking a cold light from the setting 
 sun as it struggled through the wisps of fog that 
 fluttered above the serrated sky-line of the city 
 these were my first impressions of San Francisco. 
 
 The wind blew fresh and chill from the west with 
 the damp and salt of the Pacific heavy upon it, as I 
 breasted it from the forward deck of the ferry 
 steamer, El Capitan. As I drank in the air and was 
 silent with admiration of the beautiful panorama 
 that was spread before me, my companion touched 
 me on the arm. 
 
2 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "Come into the cabin," he said. "You ll be one 
 of those fellows who can t come to San Francisco 
 without catching his death of cold, and then lays 
 it on to the climate instead of his own lack of com 
 mon sense. Come, I can t spare you, now I ve got 
 you here at last. I wouldn t lose you for a million 
 dollars." 
 
 "I ll come for half the money," I returned, as he 
 took me by the arm and led me into the close cabin. 
 
 My companion, I should explain, was Henry Wil 
 ton, the son of my father s cousin, who had the ad 
 vantages of a few years of residence in California, 
 and sported all the airs of a pioneer. We had been 
 close friends through boyhood and youth, and it was 
 on his offer of employment that I had come to the 
 city by the Golden Gate. 
 
 "What a resemblance !" I heard a woman exclaim, 
 as we entered the cabin. "They must be twins." 
 
 "There, Henry," I whispered, with a laugh ; "you 
 see we are discovered." Though our relationship 
 was not close we had been cast in the mold of some 
 common ancestor. We were so nearly alike in form 
 and feature as to perplex all but our intimate ac 
 quaintances, and we had made the resemblance the 
 occasion of many tricks in our boyhood days. 
 
 Henry had heard the exclamation as well as I. 
 To my surprise, it appeared to bring him annoyance 
 or apprehension rather than amusement. 
 
 "I had forgotten that it would make us conspicu 
 ous," he said, more to himself than to me, I thought ; 
 
A DANGEROUS ERRAND 3 
 
 and he glanced through the cabin as though he 
 looked for some peril. 
 
 "We were used to that long ago," I said, as we 
 found a seat. "Is the business ready for me? You 
 wrote that you thought it would be in hand by the 
 time I got here." 
 
 "We can t talk about it here," he said in a low 
 tone. "There is plenty of work to be done. It s not 
 hard, but, as I wrote you, it needs a man of pluck 
 and discretion. It s delicate business, you under 
 stand, and dangerous if you can t keep your head. 
 But the danger won t be yours. I ve got that end 
 of it." 
 
 "Of course you re not trying to do anything 
 against the law ?" I said. 
 
 "Oh, it has nothing to do with the law," he re 
 plied with an odd smile. "In fact, it s a little matter 
 in which we are well, you might say outside the 
 law." 
 
 I gave a gasp at this disturbing suggestion, and 
 Henry chuckled as he saw the consternation written 
 on my face. Then he rose and said : 
 
 "Come, the boat is getting in." 
 
 "But I want to know " I began. 
 
 "Oh, bother your Svant-to-knows. It s not 
 against the law just outside it, you understand. I ll 
 tell you more of it when we get to my room. Give 
 me that valise. Come along now." And as the boat 
 entered the slip we found ourselves at the front of 
 the pressing crowd that is always surging in and out 
 
4 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 i 
 
 of San Francisco by the gateway of the Market- 
 Street ferry. 
 
 As we pushed our way through the clamoring 
 hack-drivers and hotel-runners who blocked the en 
 trance to the city, I was roused by a sudden thrill of 
 the instinct of danger that warns one when he meets 
 the eye of a snake. It was gone in an instant, but I 
 had time to trace effect to cause. The warning came 
 this time from the eyes of a man, a lithe, keen-faced 
 man who flashed a look of triumphant malice on 
 us as he disappeared in the waiting-room of the 
 ferry-shed. But the keen face and the basilisk glance 
 were burned into my mind in that moment as deeply 
 as though I had known then what evil was behind 
 them. 
 
 My companion swore softly to himself. 
 
 "What s the matter?" I asked. 
 
 "Don t look around," he said. "We are watched." 
 
 "The snake-eyed man ?" 
 
 "Did you see him, too?" His manner was care 
 less, but his tone was troubled. "I thought I had 
 given him the slip," he continued. "Well, there s 
 no help for it now." 
 
 "Are we to hunt for a hiding-place?" I asked 
 doubtfully. 
 
 "Oh, no; not now. I was going to take you di 
 rect to my room. Now we are going to a hotel with 
 all the publicity we can get. Here we are." 
 
 "Internaytional ! Internaytional !" shouted a run 
 ner by our side. "Yes, sir; here you are, sir. Free 
 
A DANGEROUS ERRAND 5 
 
 bus, sir." And in another moment we were in the 
 lumbering coach, and as soon as the last lingering 
 passenger had come from the boat we were whirl 
 ing over the rough pavement, through a confusing 
 maze of streets, past long rows of dingy, ugly build 
 ings, to the hotel. 
 
 Though the sun had but just set, the lights were 
 glimmering in the windows along Kearny Street as 
 we stepped from the bus, and the twilight was rap 
 idly fading into darkness. 
 
 "A room for the night," ordered Henry, as we 
 entered the hotel office and saluted the clerk. 
 
 "Your brother will sleep with you ?" inquired the 
 clerk. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "That s right if you are sure you can tell which 
 is which in the morning," said the clerk, with a 
 smile at his poor joke. 
 
 Henry smiled in return, paid the bill, took the key, 
 and we were shown to our room. After removing 
 the travel-stains, I declared myself quite ready to 
 dine. 
 
 "We won t need this again," said Henry, tossing 
 the key on the bureau as we left. "Or no, on sec 
 ond thought," he continued, "it s just as well to 
 leave the door locked. There might be some in 
 quisitive callers." And we betook ourselves to a 
 hasty meal that was not of a nature to raise my 
 opinion of San Francisco. 
 
 "Are you through?" asked my companion, as I 
 
6 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 shook my head over a melancholy piece of pie, at* 
 laid down my fork. "Well, take your bag. This 
 door look pleasant and say nothing." 
 
 He led the way to the bar and then through a 
 back room or two, until with a turn we were in a 
 blind alley. With a few more steps we found our 
 selves in a back hall which led into another build 
 ing. I became confused after a little, and lost all 
 idea of the direction in which we were going. We 
 mounted one flight of stairs, I remember, and after 
 passing through two or three winding hallways and 
 down another flight, came out on a side street. 
 
 After a pause to observe the street before we 
 ventured forth, Henry said : 
 
 "I guess we re all right now. We must chance 
 it, anyhow." So we dodged along in the shadow till 
 we came to Montgomery Street, and after a brief 
 walk, turned into a gloomy doorway and mounted 
 a worn pair of stairs. 
 
 The house was three stories in height. It stood 
 on the corner of an alley, and the lower floor was 
 intended for a store or saloon; but a renting 
 agent s sign and a collection of old show-bills orna 
 menting the dirty windows testified that it was va 
 cant. The liquor business appeared to be overdone 
 in that quarter, for across the alley, hardly twenty 
 feet away, was a saloon ; across Montgomery Street 
 was another; and two more held out their friendly 
 lights on the corner of the street above. 
 
 In the saloons the disreputability was cheerful, 
 
A DANGEROUS ERRAND 7 
 
 and cheerfully acknowledged with lights and noise, 
 here of a broken piano, there of a wheezy accordeon, 
 and, beyond, of a half-drunken man singing or shout 
 ing a ribald song. Elsewhere it was sullen and dark, 
 the lights, where there were lights, glittering 
 through chinks, or showing the outlines of drawn 
 curtains. 
 
 "This isn t just the place I d choose for enter 
 taining friends," said Henry, with a visible relief 
 from his uneasiness, as we climbed the worn and 
 dirty stair. 
 
 "Oh, that s all right," I said, magnanimously ac 
 cepting his apology. 
 
 "It doesn t have all the modern conveniences," 
 admitted Henry as we stumbled up the second flight, 
 "but it s suitable to the business we have in hand, 
 and" 
 
 "What s that?" I exclaimed, as a creaking, rasp 
 ing sound came from the hall below. 
 
 We stopped and listened, peering into the ob 
 scurity beneath. 
 
 Nothing but silence. The house might have been 
 a tomb for any sign of life that showed within it. 
 
 "It must have been outside," said Henry. "I 
 thought for a moment perhaps " Then he checked 
 himself. "Well, you ll know later," he concluded, 
 and opened the door of the last room on the right 
 of the hall. 
 
 As we entered, he held the door ajar for a full 
 minute, listening intently. The obscurity of the hall 
 
8 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 gave back nothing to eye or ear, and at last he closed 
 the door softly and touched a match to the gas. 
 
 The room was at the rear corner of the building. 
 There were two windows, one looking to the west, 
 the other to the north and opening on the narrow 
 alley. 
 
 "Not so bad after you get in," said Henry, half 
 as an introduction, half as an apology. 
 
 "It s luxury after six days of railroading," I re 
 plied. 
 
 "Well, lie down there, and make the most of it, 
 then," he said, "for there may be trouble ahead." 
 And he listened again at the crack of the door. 
 
 "In Heaven s name, Henry, what s up? I ex 
 claimed with some temper. "You re as full of mys 
 teries as a dime novel." 
 
 Henry smiled grimly. 
 
 "Maybe you don t recognize that this is serious 
 business," he said. 
 
 "I don t understand it at all." 
 
 "Well, I m not joking. There s mischief afoot, 
 and I m in danger." 
 
 "From whom ? From what ?" 
 
 "Never mind that now. It s another person s busi 
 ness not mine, you understand and I can t ex 
 plain until I know whether you are to be one of us 
 or not." 
 
 "That s what I came for, isn t it?" 
 
 "Hm ! You don t seem to be overly pleased with 
 the job." 
 
A DANGEROUS ERRAND 9 
 
 "Which isn t surprising, when I haven t the first 
 idea what it is, except that it seems likely to get me 
 killed or in jail." 
 
 "Oh, if you re feeling that way about it, I know 
 of another job that will suit you better in " 
 
 "I m not afraid," I broke in hotly. "But I want 
 to see the noose before I put my head in it." 
 
 "Then I m sure the assistant bookkeeper s place 
 I have in mind will " 
 
 "Confound your impudence !" I cried, laughing in 
 spite of myself at the way he was playing on me. 
 "Assistant bookkeeper be hanged! I m with you 
 from A to Z ; but if you love me, don t keep me in 
 the dark." 
 
 "I ll tell you all you need to know. Too much 
 might be dangerous." 
 
 I was about to protest that I could not know too 
 much, when Henry raised his hand with a warning 
 to silence. I heard the sound of a cautious step out 
 side. Then Henry sprang to the door, flung it open, 
 and bolted down the passage. There was the gleam 
 of a revolver in his hand. I hurried after him, but 
 as I crossed the threshold he was coming softly 
 back, with finger on lips. 
 
 "I must see to the guards again. I can have them 
 together by midnight." 
 
 "Can I help?" 
 
 "No. Just wait here till I get back. Bolt the door, 
 and let nobody in but me. It isn t likely that they 
 will try to do anything before midnight. If they 
 
io BLINDFOLDED 
 
 do well, here s a revolver. Shoot through the door 
 if anybody tries to break it down." 
 
 I stood in the door, revolver in hand, watched 
 him down the hall, and listened to his footsteps as 
 they descended the stairs and at last faded away into 
 the murmur of life that came up from the open 
 street. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 A CRY FOR HELP 
 
 I hastily closed and locked the door. It shut out 
 at least the eyes and ears that, to my excited imagina 
 tion, lurked in the dark corners and half-hidden 
 doorways of the dimly-lighted hall. And as I turned 
 back to the room my heart was heavy with bitter 
 regret that I had ever left my home. 
 
 This was not at all what I had looked for when 
 I started for the Golden Gate at my friend s offer of 
 a "good place and a chance to get rich." 
 
 Then I rallied my spirits with something of resolu 
 tion, and shamed myself with the reproach that I 
 should fear to share any danger that Henry was 
 ready to face. Wearied as I was with travel, I was 
 too much excited for sleep. Reading was equally 
 impossible. I scarcely glanced at the shelf of books 
 that hung on the wall, and turned to a study of my 
 surroundings. 
 
 The room was on the corner, as I have said, and 
 I threw up the sash of the west window and looked 
 out over a tangle of old buildings, ramshackle sheds, 
 and an alley that appeared to lead nowhere. A 
 wooden shutter swung from the frame-post of the 
 
 ii 
 
12 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 window, reaching nearly to a crazy wooden stair" that 
 led from the black depths below. There were lights 
 here and there in the back rooms. Snatches of 
 drunken song and rude jest came up from an un 
 seen doggery, and vile odors came with them. Shad 
 ows seemed to move here and there among the dark 
 places, but in the uncertain light I could not be sure 
 whether they were men, or only boxes and barrels. 
 
 Some sound of a drunken quarrel drew my atten 
 tion to the north window, and I looked out into the 
 alley. The lights from Montgomery Street scarcely 
 gave shape to the gloom below the window, but I 
 could distinguish three or four men near the side 
 entrance of a saloon. They appeared quiet enough. 
 The quarrel, if any there was, must be inside the sa 
 loon. After an interval of comparative silence, the 
 noise rose again. There were shouts and curses, 
 sounds as of a chair broken and tables upset, and one 
 protesting, struggling inebriate was hurled out from 
 the front door and left, with threats and foul lan 
 guage, to collect himself from the pavement. 
 
 This edifying incident, which was explained to me 
 solely by sound, had scarcely come to an end when 
 a noise of creaking boards drew my eyes to the other 
 window. The shutter suddenly flew around, and a 
 ;human figure swung in at the open casing. Astonish- 
 ment at this singular proceeding did not dull the 
 instinct of self-defense. The survey of my surround 
 ings and the incident of the bar-room row had in 
 a measure prepared me for any desperate doings, and 
 
A CRY FOR HELP 13 
 
 I had swung a chair ready to strike a blow before 
 I had time to think. 
 
 "S-h-h !" came the warning whisper, and I recog 
 nized my supposed robber. It was Henry. 
 
 His clothes and hair were disordered, and his face 
 and hands were grimy with dust. 
 
 "Don t speak out loud," he said in suppressed 
 tones. "Wait till I fasten this shutter. The other 
 one s gone, but nobody can get in from that side 
 unless they can shin up thirty feet of brick wall." 
 
 "Shall I shut the window?" I asked, thoroughly 
 impressed by his manner. 
 
 "No, you ll make too much noise," he said, strip 
 ping off his coat and vest. "Here, change clothes 
 with me. Quick ! It s a case of life and death. I 
 must be out of here in two minutes. Do as I say, 
 now. Don t ask questions. I ll tell you about it in 
 a day or two. No, just the coat and vest. There 
 give me that collar and tie. Where s your hat?" 
 
 The changes were completed, or rather his were, 
 and he stood looking as much like me as could be 
 imagined. 
 
 "Don t stir from this room till I come back," he 
 whispered. "You can dress in anything of mine 
 you like. I ll be in before twelve, or send a mes 
 senger if I m not coming. By-by." 
 
 He was gone before I could say a word, and only 
 an occasional creaking board told me of his pro 
 gress down the stairs. He had evidently had some 
 practice in getting about quietly. I could only won- 
 
14 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 der, as I closed and locked the door, whether it was 
 the police or a private enemy that he was trying to 
 avoid. 
 
 I had small time to speculate on the possibilities, 
 for outside the window I heard the single word, 
 "Help!" 
 
 The cry was half-smothered, and followed by a 
 gurgling sound and noise as of a scuffle in the alley. 
 
 I rushed to the window and looked out. A band 
 of half a dozen men was struggling and pushing 
 away from Montgomery Street into the darker end 
 of the alley. They were nearly under the window. 
 
 "Give it to him," said a voice. 
 
 In an instant there came a scream, so freighted 
 with agony that it burst the bonds of gripping fingers 
 and smothering palms that tried to close it in, and 
 rose for the fraction of a second on the foul air of 
 the alley. Then a light showed and a tall, broad- 
 shouldered figure leaped back. 
 
 "These aren t the papers," it hissed. "Curse on 
 you, you ve got the wrong man!" 
 
 There was a moment s confusion, and the light 
 flashed on the man who had spoken and was gone. 
 But that flash had shown me the face of a man I 
 could never forget a man whose destiny was bound 
 up for a brief period with mine, and whose wicked 
 plans have proved the master influence of my life. 
 It was a strong, cruel, wolfish face the face of a 
 man near sixty, with a fierce yellow-gray mustache 
 and imperial a face broad at the temples and taper- 
 
A CRY FOR HELP 15 
 
 ing down into a firm, unyielding jaw, and marked 
 then with all the lines of rage, hatred, and chagrin 
 at the failure of his plans. 
 
 It took not a second for me to see and hear and 
 know all this, for the vision came and was gone in 
 the dropping of an eyelid. And then there echoed 
 through the alley loud cries of "Police! Murder! 
 Help !" I was conscious that there was a man run 
 ning through the hall and down the rickety stairs, 
 making the building ring to the same cries. My own 
 feelings were those of overmastering fear for my 
 friend. He had gone on his mysterious, dangerous 
 errand, and I felt that it was he who had been 
 dragged into the alley, and stabbed, perhaps to death. 
 Yet it seemed I could make no effort, nor rouse my 
 self from the stupor of terror into which I was 
 thrown by the scene I had witnessed. 
 
 It was thus with a feeling of surprise that I found 
 myself in the street, and came to know that the cries 
 for help had come from me, and that I was the man 
 who had run through the hall and down the stairs 
 shouting for the police. 
 
 Singularly enough there was no crowd to be seen, 
 and no excitement anywhere. Some one was playing 
 a wheezy melodeon in the saloon, and men were 
 singing a drunken song. The alley was dark, and I 
 could see no one in its depths. The house through 
 which I had flown shouting was now silent, and if 
 any one on the street had heard me he had hurried 
 on and closed his ears, lest evil befall him. 
 
16 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 Fortunately the policeman on the beat was at hand, 
 and I hailed him excitedly. 
 
 "Only rolling a drunk," he said lightly, as I told 
 of what I had seen. 
 
 "No, it s worse than that/ I insisted. "There 
 was murder done, and I m afraid it s my friend." 
 
 He listened more attentively as I told him how 
 Henry had left the house just before the cry for 
 help had risen. 
 
 The policeman took me by the shoulders, turned 
 me to the gaslight, and looked in my face. 
 
 "Excuse me, sor," he said. "I see you re not one 
 of that kind. Some of em learns it from the blith- 
 erin Chaneymen." 
 
 I was mystified at the moment, but I found later 
 that he suspected me of having had an opium dream. 
 The house, I learned, was frequented by the "opium 
 fiends," as they figure in police slang. 
 
 "It s a nasty place," he continued. "It s lucky 
 I ve got a light." He brought up a dark lantern from 
 his overcoat pocket, and stood in the shelter of the 
 building as he lighted it. "There s not many as 
 carries em," he continued, "but they re mighty 
 handy at times." 
 
 We made our way to the point beneath the win 
 dow, where the men had stood. 
 
 There was nothing to be seen no sign of strug 
 gle, no shred of torn clothing, no drop of blood. 
 Body, traces and all had disappeared. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 A QUESTION IN THE NIGHT 
 
 I was stricken dumb at this end to the investiga 
 tion, and half doubted the evidence of my eyes. 
 
 "Well," said the policeman, with a sigh of relief, 
 "there s nothing here." 
 
 I suspected that his doubts of my sanity were re 
 turning. 
 
 "Here is where it was done," I asserted stoutly, 
 pointing to the spot where I had seen the struggling 
 group from the window. "There were surely five 
 or six men in it." 
 
 The policeman turned his lantern on the spot. 
 The rough pavement had taken no mark of the 
 scuffle. 
 
 "It s hard to make sure of things from above in 
 this light," said the policeman, hinting once more 
 his suspicion that I was confusing dreams with 
 reality. 
 
 "There was no mistaking that job," I said. "See 
 here, the alley leads farther back. Bring your light." 
 
 "Aisy, now," said the policeman. "I ll lead the 
 way. Maybe you want one yourself, as your friend 
 has set the fashion." 
 
 17 
 
i8 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 A few paces farther the alley turned at a right 
 angle to the north, yawning dark behind the grim 
 and threatening buildings, and filled with noisome 
 odors. We looked narrowly for a body, and then 
 for traces that might give hint of the passage of a 
 party. 
 
 "Nothing here," said the policeman, as we came 
 out on the other street. "Maybe they ve carried him 
 into one of these back-door dens, and maybe they 
 whisked him into a hack here, and are a mile or two 
 away by now." 
 
 "But we must follow them. He may be only 
 wounded and can be rescued. And these men can be 
 caught." I was almost hysterical in my eagerness. 
 
 "Aisy, aisy, now," said the policeman. "Go back 
 to your room, now. That s the safest place for you, 
 and you can t do nothin at all out here. I ll report 
 the case to the head office, an we ll send out the 
 alarm to the force. Now, here s your door. Just 
 rest aisy, and they ll let you know if anything s 
 found." 
 
 And he passed on, leaving me dazed with dread 
 and despair in the entrance of the fateful house. 
 
 The sounds of drunken pleasure were lessening 
 about me. The custom had fallen off in the saloon 
 across the street to such extent that the proprietor 
 was putting up the shutters. The saloon on the cor 
 ner of the alley was still waiting for stray customers 
 and I crossed over to it with the thought that the 
 inmates might give me a possible clue. 
 
A QUESTION IN THE NIGHT 19 
 
 A man half-asleep leaned back in a chair by the 
 stove with his chin on his breast. Two rough-look 
 ing men at a table who were talking in low tones 
 pretended not to notice my entrance, but their fur 
 tive glances gave more eloquent evidence of their in 
 terest than the closest stare. 
 
 The barkeeper eyed me with apparent openness. 
 I called for a glass of wine, partly as an excuse for 
 my visit, and partly to revive my shaken spirits. 
 
 "Any trouble about here to-night?" I asked in my 
 most affable tone. 
 
 The barkeeper looked at me with cold suspicion. 
 
 "No, sir," he said shortly. "This is the quietest 
 neighborhood in town." 
 
 "I should think there would be a disturbance every 
 time that liquor was sold," was my private com 
 ment, as I got the aftertaste of the dose. But I 
 merely wished him good night as I paid for the 
 drink, and sauntered out. 
 
 I promptly got into my doorway before any one 
 could reach the street to see whither I went, and 
 listened to a growling comment and a mirthless 
 laugh that followed my departure. Hardly had I 
 gained my concealment when the swinging doors 
 of the saloon opened cautiously, and a face peered 
 out into the semi-darkness. With a muttered curse 
 it went back, and I heard the barkeeper s voice in 
 some jest about a failure to be "quick enough to 
 catch flies." 
 
 Once more in the room to wait till morning should 
 
20 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 give me a chance to work, I looked about the dingy 
 place with a heart sunk to the lowest depths. I was 
 alone in the face of this mystery. I had not one 
 friend in the city to whom I could appeal for sym 
 pathy, advice or money. Yet I should need all of 
 these to follow this business to the end to learn the 
 fate of my cousin, to rescue him, if alive and to 
 avenge him, if dead. 
 
 Then, in the hope that I might find something 
 among Henry s effects to give me a clue to the men 
 who had attacked him, I went carefully through his 
 clothes and his papers. But I found that he did not 
 leave memoranda of his business lying about. The 
 only scrap that could have a possible bearing on it 
 was a sheet of paper in the coat he had changed 
 with me. It bore a rough map, showing a road 
 branching thrice, with crosses marked here and there 
 upon it. Underneath was written : 
 
 "Third road cockeyed barn iron cow." 
 
 Then followed some numerals mixed in a drunken 
 dance with half the letters of the alphabet the 
 explanation of the map, I supposed, in cipher, and 
 as it might prove the clue to this dreadful business, 
 I folded the sheet carefully in an envelope and 
 placed it in an inmost pocket. 
 
 The search having failed of definite results, I sat 
 with chair tilted against the wall to consider the 
 situation. Turn it as I would, I could make nothing 
 good of it. There were desperate enterprises afoot 
 of which I could see neither beginning nor end, pur- 
 
A QUESTION IN THE NIGHT 21 
 
 pose nor result. I repented of my consent to mix 
 in these dangerous doings and resolved that when 
 the morning came I would find other quarters, take 
 up the search for Henry, and look for such work 
 as might be found. 
 
 It was after midnight when I had come to this 
 conclusion, and, barring doors and windows as well 
 as I could, I flung myself on the bed to rest. I did 
 not expect to sleep after the exciting events through 
 which I had passed ; yet after a bit the train of men 
 tal pictures drawn out by the surging memories of 
 the night became confused and faded away, and I 
 sank into an uneasy slumber. 
 
 When I awoke it was with a start and an oppres 
 sive sense that somebody else was in the room. 
 The gas-light that I had left burning had been put 
 out. Darkness was intense. The beating of my own 
 heart was the only sound I could distinguish. I 
 sat upright and felt for the matches that I had seen 
 upon the stand. 
 
 In another instant I was flung back upon the bed. 
 Wiry fingers gripped my throat, and a voice hissed 
 in my ear : 
 
 "Where is he? Where is the boy? Give me your 
 papers, or I ll wring the life out of you !" 
 
 I was strong and vigorous, and, though taken at a 
 disadvantage, struggled desperately enough to break 
 the grip on my throat and get a hold upon my as 
 sailant. 
 
 "Where is the boy?" gasped the voice once more.: 
 
22 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 and then, as I made no reply, but twined my arms 
 about him, my assailant saved all his breath for the 
 struggle. 
 
 We rolled to the floor with a thud that shook 
 the house, and in this change of base I had the luck 
 to come out uppermost. Then my courage rose as 
 I found that I could hold my man. I feared a knife, 
 but if he had one he had not drawn it, and I was 
 able to keep his hands too busy to allow him to get 
 possession of it now. Finding that he was able to 
 accomplish nothing, he gave a short cry and called : 
 
 "Conn !" 
 
 I heard a confusion of steps outside, and a sound 
 as of a muffled oath. Then the door opened, there 
 was a rush of feet behind me, and the flash of a 
 bull s-eye lantern. I released my enemy, and sprang 
 back to the corner where I could defend myself at 
 some advantage. It was a poor chance for an un 
 armed man, but I found a chair and set my teeth to 
 give an account of myself to the first who advanced, 
 and reproached the lack of foresight that had al 
 lowed me to lay the revolver under the pillow in 
 stead of putting it in my pocket. 
 
 I could distinguish four dark figures of men ; but, 
 instead of rushing upon me as I stood on the de 
 fensive, they seized upon my assailant. I looked on 
 panting, and hardly able to regain my breath. It 
 was not half a minute before my enemy was securely 
 bound and gagged and carried out. One of the men 
 lingered. 
 
A QUESTION IN THE NIGHT 23 
 
 "Don t take such risks," he said. "I wouldn t have 
 your job, Mr. Wilton, for all the old man s money. 
 If we hadn t happened up here, you d have been done 
 for this time." 
 
 "In God s name, man, what does all this mean?" 
 I gasped. 
 
 The man looked at me in evident surprise. 
 
 "They ve got a fresh start, I guess," he said. 
 "You d better get some of the men up here. Mr. 
 Richmond sent us up to bring this letter." 
 
 He was gone silently, and I was left in the dark 
 ness. I struck a match, lighted the gas once more, and, 
 securing the revolver, looked to the letter. The en 
 velope bore no address. I tore it open. The lines 
 were written in a woman s hand, and a faint but pe r 
 culiar perfume rose from the paper. It bore but 
 these words: 
 
 "Don t make the change until I see you. The 
 money will be ready in the morning. Be at the bank 
 at 10:30." 
 
 The note, puzzling as it was, was hardly an addi 
 tion to my perplexities. It was evident that I had 
 been plunged into the center of intrigue, plot and 
 counterplot. I was supposed to have possession of 
 somebody s boy. A powerful and active enemy 
 threatened me with death. An equally active friend 
 was working to preserve my safety. People of 
 wealth were concerned. I had dimly seen a fragment 
 of the struggling forces, and it was plain that only 
 
24 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 a very rich person could afford the luxury of hiring 
 the bravos and guards who threatened and protected 
 me. 
 
 How wide were the ramifications of the mystery? 
 Whose was the boy, and what was wanted of him? 
 Had he been stolen from home and parents? Or 
 was he threatened with mortal danger and sent into 
 hiding to keep him from death? 
 
 The fate of Henry showed the power of those who 
 were pursuing me. Armed as he was with the know 
 ledge of his danger, knowing, as I did not, what he 
 had to guard and from what he had to guard it, he 
 had yet fallen a victim. 
 
 I could not doubt that he was the man assaulted 
 and stabbed in the alley below. But the fact that no 
 trace of him or of a tragedy was to be found gave 
 me hope that he was still alive. Yet, at best, he was 
 wounded and in the hands of his enemies, a prisoner 
 to the men who had sought his life. It must be, 
 however, that he was not yet recognized. The trans 
 fer of the chase to me was proof that the scoundrels 
 had been misled by the resemblance between us, and 
 by the letters found in the coat. They were con j 
 vinced that he was Giles Dudley, and that I was 
 Henry Wilton. As long as there was hope that he 
 was alive I would devote myself to searching for 
 him and to helping him to recover his liberty. 
 
 As I was hoping, speculating, planning thus, I 
 was startled to hear a step on the stair. 
 
 The sound was not one that need be thought out 
 
A QUESTION IN THE NIGHT 25 
 
 of place in such a house and neighborhood, even 
 though the hour was past four in the morning. But 
 it struck a chill through me, and I listened with 
 growing apprehension as it mounted step by step. 
 
 The dread silence of the house that had cast its 
 shadow of fear upon me now seemed to become 
 vocal with protest against this intrusion, and to send 
 warning through the halls. At last the step halted 
 before my door and a loud knock startled the echoes. 
 
 With a great bound my heart threw off. its 
 tremors, and I grasped the revolver firmly : 
 
 "Who s there?" 
 
 "Open the door, sor ; I ve news for ye." 
 
 "Who are you?" 
 
 "Come now, no nonsense; I m an officer." 
 
 I unlocked the door and stepped to one side. My 
 bump of caution had developed amazingly in the few 
 hours I had spent in San Francisco, and, in spite of 
 his assurance, I thought best to avoid any chance of 
 a rush from my unknown friends, and to put my 
 self in a good position to use my revolver if neces 
 sary. 
 
 The man stepped in and showed his star. He 
 was the policeman I had met when I had run shout 
 ing into the street. 
 
 "I suspicion we ve found your friend," he said 
 gravely. "You re wanted at the morgue." 
 
 "Dead!" I gasped. 
 
 "Dead as Saint Patrick rest his sowl !" 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 A CHANGE OF NAME 
 
 "Here s your way, sor," said the policeman, turn 
 ing into the old City Hall, as it was even then 
 known, and leading me to one of the inner rooms 
 of the labyrinth of offices. 
 
 The odors of the prison were heavy upon the 
 building. The foul air from the foul court-rooms 
 and offices still hung about the entrance, and the 
 fog-laden breeze of the early morning hours was 
 powerless to freshen it. 
 
 The policeman opened an office door, saluted, and 
 motioned me to enter. 
 
 "Detective Coogan," he said, "here s your man." 
 
 Detective Coogan, from behind his desk, nodded 
 with the careless dignity of official position. 
 
 "Glad to see you, Mr. Wilton/ he said affably. 
 
 If I betrayed surprise at being called by Henry s 
 name, Detective Coogan did not notice it. But I 
 hastened to disclaim the dangerous distinction. 
 
 "I am not Wilton," I declared. "My name is 
 Dudley Giles Dudley." 
 
 At this announcement Detective Coogan turned 
 to the policeman. 
 
 26 
 
A CHANGE OF NAME 27 
 
 "Just step into Morns room, Corson, and tell him 
 I m going up to the morgue." 
 
 "Now," he continued, as the policeman closed the 
 door behind him, "this won t do, Wilton. We ve 
 had to overlook a good deal, of course, but you 
 needn t think you can play us for suckers all the 
 time." 
 
 "But I tell you I m not " I began, when he inter 
 rupted me. 
 
 "You can t make that go here," he said con 
 temptuously. "And I ll tell you what, Wilton, I 
 shall have to take you into custody if you don t 
 come down to straight business. We don t want to 
 chip in on the old man s play, of course, especially 
 as we don t know what his game is." Detective 
 Coogan appeared to regret this admission that he 
 was not omniscient, and w r ent on hastily : "You 
 know as well as we do that we don t want any fight 
 with him. But I ll tell you right now that if you 
 force a fight, we ll make it so warm for him that 
 he ll have to throw you overboard to lighten ship." 
 
 Here was a fine prospect conveyed by Detective 
 Coogan s picturesque confusion of metaphors. If I 
 persisted in claiming my own name and person I 
 was to be clapped into jail, and charged with 
 Heaven-knows-what crimes. If I took my friend s 
 name, I was to invite the career of adventure of 
 which I had just had a taste. And while this was 
 flashing through my mind, I wondered idly who 
 the "old man" could be. The note I had received 
 
28 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 was certainly in a lady s hand. But if the lady was 
 Henry s employer, it was evident that he had dealt 
 with the police as the representative of a man of 
 power. 
 
 My decision was of necessity promptly taken. 
 
 "Oh, well, if that s the way you look at it, Coo- 
 gan," I said carelessly, "it s all right. I thought it 
 was agreed that we weren t to know each other." 
 
 This was a chance shot, but it hit. 
 
 "Yes, yes," said the detective, "I remember. But, 
 you see, this is serious business. Here s a murder 
 on our hands, and from all I can learn it s on ac 
 count of your confounded schemes. We ve got to 
 know where we stand, or there will be the Old Nick 
 to pay. The papers will get hold of it, and then 
 well, you remember that shake-up we had three 
 years ago." 
 
 "But you forget the old man, " I returned. The 
 name of that potent Unknown seemed to be my only 
 weapon in the contest with Detective Coogan, and I 
 thought this a time to try its force. 
 
 "Not much, I don t!" said Coogan, visibly dis 
 turbed. "But if it comes to a choice, we ll have to 
 risk a battle with him." 
 
 "Well, maybe we re wasting time over a trifle," 
 said I, voicing my hope. "Perhaps your dead man 
 belongs somewhere else." 
 
 "Come along to the morgue, then," said he. 
 
 "Where was he found?" I asked as we walked 
 out of the City Hall. 
 
ACHANGEOFNAME 29 
 
 "He was picked up at about three o clock in the 
 back room of the Hurricane Deck the water-front 
 saloon, you know near the foot of Folsom Street." 
 
 Detective Coogan asked a number of questions as 
 we walked, and in a few minutes we came to the 
 undertaker s shop that served as the city morgue. 
 At the best of times it could not be a place of cheer. 
 In the hour before daybreak, with the chill air of 
 the morning almost suppressing the yellow gas 
 lights, the errand on which I had come made it the 
 abode of dread. Yet I hoped hoped in such an 
 agony of fear that I became half-insensible to my 
 surroundings. 
 
 "Here it is," said Coogan, opening a door. 
 
 The low room was dark and chill and musty, but 
 its details started forth from the obscurity as he 
 turned up the lights. 
 
 Detective Coogan s words seemed to come from a 
 great distance as he said: "Here, you see, he was 
 "stabbed. The knife went to the heart. Here he was 
 hit with something heavy and blunt; but it had 
 enough of an edge to cut the scalp and lay the cheek 
 open. The skull is broken. See here " 
 
 I summoned my resolution and looked. 
 
 Disfigured and ghastly as it was, I recognized it. 
 It was the face of Henry Wilton. 
 
 The next I knew I was sitting on a bench, and the 
 detective w r as holding a bottle to my lips. 
 
 "There, take another swallow," he said, not un 
 kindly. "I didn t know you weren t used to it." 
 
30 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "Oh," I gasped, "I m all right now/ And I was 
 able to look steadily at the gruesome surroundings 
 and the dreadful burden on the slab. 
 
 "Is this the man ?" asked the detective. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "His name?" 
 
 "Dudley James Dudley." I was not quite will 
 ing to transfer the whole of my identity to the dead, 
 and changed the Giles to James. 
 
 "Was he a relative?" 
 
 I shook my head, though I could not have said 
 why I denied it. Then, in answer to the detective s 
 question, I told the story of the scuffle in the alley, 
 and of the events that followed. 
 
 "Did you see any of the men? To recognize 
 them, I mean?" 
 
 I described the leader as well as I was able the 
 man with the face of the wolf that I had seen in the 
 lantern-flash. 
 
 Detective Coogan lost his listless air, and looked 
 at me in astonishment. 
 
 "I don t see your game, Wilton," he said. 
 
 "I m giving you the straight facts," I said sul 
 lenly, a little disturbed by his manner and tone. 
 
 "Well, in that case, I d expect you to keep the 
 straight facts to yourself, my boy." 
 
 It was my turn to be astonished. 
 
 "Well, that s my lookout," I said with assumed 
 carelessness. 
 
 "I don t see through you," said the detective with 
 
A CHANGE OF NAME 31 
 
 some irritation. "If you re playing with me to stop 
 this inquiry by dragging in well, we needn t use 
 names you ll find yourself in the hottest water you 
 ever struck." 
 
 "You can do as you please," I said coolly. 
 
 The detective ripped out an oath. 
 
 "If I knew you were lying, Wilton, I d clap you 
 in jail this minute." 
 
 "Well, if you want to take the risks " I said 
 smiling. 
 
 He looked at me for a full minute. 
 
 "Candidly, I don t, and you know it," he said. 
 "But this is a stunner on me. What s your game, 
 anyhow ?" 
 
 I wished I knew. 
 
 "So accomplished a detective should not be at a 
 loss to answer so simple a question." 
 
 "Well, there s only one course open, as I see," he 
 said with a groan. "We ve got to have a story ready 
 for the papers and the coroner s jury." 
 
 This was a new suggestion for me and I was 
 alarmed. 
 
 "You can just forget your little tale about the 
 row in the alley," he continued. "There s nothing 
 to show that it had anything to do with this man 
 here. Maybe it didn t happen. Anyhow, just think 
 it was a dream. This was a water-front row 
 tough saloon killed and robbed by parties un 
 known. Maybe we ll have you before the coroner 
 for the identification, but maybe it s better not," 
 
32 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 I nodded assent. My mind was too numbed to 
 suggest another course. 
 
 The gray dawn was breaking through the chill 
 fog, and people were stirring in the streets as De 
 tective Coogan led the way out of the morgue. As 
 we parted he gave me a curious look. 
 
 "I suppose you know your own business, Wilton," 
 he said, "but I suspect you d be a sight safer if I d 
 clap you in jail." 
 
 And with this consoling comment he was gone, 
 and I was left in the dawn of my first morning in 
 San Francisco, mind and body at the nadir of de 
 pression after the excitement and perils of the night. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 DODDRIDGE KNAPP 
 
 It was past ten o clock of the morning when the 
 remembrance of the mysterious note I had received 
 the preceding night came on me. I took the slip 
 from my pocket, and read its contents once more : 
 
 "Don t make the change until I see you. The 
 money will be ready in the morning. Be at the bank 
 at 10:30." 
 
 This was perplexing enough, but it furnished me 
 with an idea. Of course I could not take money in 
 tended for Henry Wilton. But here was the first 
 chance to get at the heart of this dreadful business. 
 The writer of the note, I must suppose, was the 
 mysterious employer. If I could see her I could find 
 the way of escape from the dangerous burden of 
 Henry Wilton s personality and mission. 
 
 But which bank could be meant ? The only names 
 I knew were the Bank of California, whose failure 
 in the previous year had sent echoes even into my 
 New England home, and the Anglo-Californian 
 Bank, on which I held a draft. The former struck 
 me as the more likely place of appointment, and 
 
 33 
 
34 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 after some skilful navigating I found myself at the 
 corner of California and Sansome Streets, before 
 the building through which the wealth of an empire 
 had flowed. 
 
 I watched closely the crowd that passed in and 
 out of the treasure-house, and assumed what I hoped 
 was an air of prosperous indifference to my sur 
 roundings. 
 
 No one appeared to notice me. There were eager 
 men and cautious men, and men who looked secure 
 and men who looked anxious, but neither man nor 
 woman was looking for me. 
 
 Plainly I had made a bad guess. A hasty walk 
 through several other banks that I could see in the 
 neighborhood gave no better result, and I had to 
 acknowledge that this chance of penetrating the 
 mystery was gone. I speculated for the moment on 
 what the effects might be. To neglect an order of 
 this kind might result in the withdrawal of the pro 
 tection that had saved my life, and in turning me 
 over to the mercies of the banditti who thought I 
 knew something of the whereabouts of a boy. 
 
 As I reflected thus, I came upon a crowd massed 
 about the steps of a great granite building in Pine 
 Street; a whirlpool of men, it seemed, with cross 
 currents and eddies, and from the whole rose the 
 murmur of excited voices. 
 
 It was the Stock Exchange, the gamblers para 
 dise, in which millions were staked, won and lost, 
 and ruin and affluence walked side by side. 
 
DODDRIDGEKNAPP 35 
 
 As I watched the swaying, shouting mass with 
 wonder and amusement, a thrill shot through me. 
 
 Upon the steps of the building, amid the crowd 
 of brokers and speculators, I saw a tall, broad-shoul 
 dered man of fifty or fifty-five, his face keen, shrewd 
 and hard, broad at the temples and tapering to a 
 strong jaw, a yellow-gray mustache and imperial 
 half-hiding and half-revealing the firm lines of the 
 mouth, with the mark of the wolf strong upon the 
 whole. It was a face never to be forgotten as long 
 as I should hold memory at all. It was the face I 
 had seen twelve hours before in the lantern flash 
 in the dreadful alley, with the cry of murder ring 
 ing in my ears. Then it was lighted by the fierce 
 fires of rage and hatred, and marked with the cha 
 grin of baffled plans. Now it was cool, good-hu 
 mored, alert for the battle of the Exchange that had 
 already begun. But I knew it for the same, and was 
 near crying aloud that here was a murderer. 
 
 I clutched my nearest neighbor by the arm, and 
 demanded to know who it was. 
 
 "Doddridge Knapp," replied the man civilly. 
 "He s running the Chollar deal now, and if I could 
 only guess which side he s on, I d make a fortune 
 in the next few days. He s the King of Pine Street." 
 
 While I was looking at the King of the Street 
 and listening to my neighbor s tales of his opera 
 tions, Doddridge Knapp s eyes met mine. To my 
 amazement there was a look of recognition in them. 
 Yet he made no sign, and in a moment was gone. 
 
36 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 This, then, was the enemy I was to meet! This 
 was the explanation of Detective Coogan s hint that 
 I should be safer in jail than free on the streets to 
 face this man s hatred or revenge. 
 
 I must have stood in a daze on the busy street, 
 for I was roused by some one shaking my arm with 
 vigor. 
 
 "Come! are you asleep?" said the man, speaking 
 in my ear. "Can t you hear?" 
 
 "Yes, yes," said I, rousing my attention. 
 
 "The chief wants you." His voice was low, al 
 most a whisper. 
 
 "The chief? Who? Where?" I asked. "At the 
 City Hall?" I jumped to the conclusion that it was, 
 of course, the chief of police, on the scent of the 
 murder. 
 
 "No. Of course not. In the second office, you 
 know." 
 
 This was scarcely enlightening. Doubtless, how 
 ever, it was a summons from my unknown em 
 ployer. 
 
 "I ll follow you," said I promptly. 
 
 "I don t think I d better go," said the messenger 
 dubiously. "He didn t say anything about it, and 
 you know he s rather " 
 
 "Well, I order it," I cut in decisively. "I may 
 need you." 
 
 I certainly needed him at that moment if I was to 
 find my way. 
 
 "Go ahead a few steps," I said. 
 
DODDRIDGE KNAPP 37 
 
 My tone and manner impressed him, and he went 
 without another word. I sauntered after him with 
 as careless an air as I could assume. My heart was 
 beating fast. I felt that I was close to the mystery 
 and that the next half-hour would determine 
 whether I was to take up Henry Wilton s work or 
 to find my way in safety back to my own name and 
 person. 
 
 My unconscious guide led the way along Mont 
 gomery Street into an office building, up a flight of 
 stairs, and into a back hallway. 
 
 "Stay a moment," I said, as he had his hand on 
 the door knob. "On second thoughts you can wait 
 down stairs." 
 
 He turned back, and as his footsteps echoed down 
 the stair I opened the door and entered the office. 
 
 As I crossed the threshold my heart gave a great 
 bound, and I stopped short. Before me sat Dodd- 
 ridge Knapp, the King of the Street, the man for 
 whom above all others in the world I felt loathing 
 and fear. 
 
 Doddridge Knapp finished signing his name to a 
 paper on his desk before he looked up. 
 
 "Come in and sit down," he said. The voice was 
 alert and businesslike the voice of a man accus 
 tomed to command. But I could find no trace of 
 feeling in it, nothing that could tell me of the hatred 
 or desperate purpose that should inspire such a 
 tragedy as I had witnessed, or warn me of danger 
 to come. 
 
38 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "Do you hear?" he said impatiently; "shut 
 door and sit down. Just spring that lock, will you? 
 We might be interrupted." 
 
 I was not at all certain that I should not wish 
 very earnestly that he might be interrupted in what 
 Bret Harte would call the "subsequent proceed 
 ings." But I followed his directions. 
 
 Doddridge Knapp was not less impressive at close 
 view than at long range. The strong face grew 
 stronger when seen from the near distance. 
 
 "My dear Wilton," he said, "I ve come to a place 
 where I ve got to trust somebody, so I ve come back 
 to you." The voice was oily and persuasive, but the 
 keen gray eyes shot out a glance from under the 
 bushing eyebrows that thrilled me as a warning. 
 
 "It s very kind of you," I said, swallowing my 
 astonishment with an effort. 
 
 "Well," said Knapp, "the way you handled that 
 Ophir matter was perfectly satisfactory; but I ll tell 
 you that it s on Mrs. Knapp s say-so, as much as on 
 your own doings, that I select you for this job." 
 
 "I m much obliged to Mrs. Knapp," I said po 
 litely. I was in deep waters. It was plainly unsafe 
 to do anything but drift. 
 
 "Oh, you can settle that with her at your next 
 call," he said good humoredly. 
 
 The jaded nerves of surprise refused to respond 
 further. If I had received a telegram informing me 
 that the dispute over the presidency had been settled 
 by shelving both Hayes and Tilden and giving the 
 
DODDRIDGEKNAPP 39 
 
 unanimous vote of the electors to me, I should have 
 accepted it as a matter of course. I took my place 
 unquestioningly as a valued acquaintance of Dodd- 
 ridge Knapp s and a particular friend of Mrs. 
 Knapp s. 
 
 Yet it struck me as strange that the keen-eyed 
 King of the Street had failed to discover that he was 
 not talking to Henry Wilton, but to some one else 
 who resembled him. There were enough differ 
 ences in features and voice to distinguish us among 
 intimate friends, though there were not enough to 
 be seen by casual acquaintances. I had the key in 
 the next sentence he spoke. 
 
 "I have decided that it is better this time to do 
 our business face to face. I don t want to trust mes 
 sengers on this affair, and even cipher notes are 
 dangerous, confoundedly dangerous/ 
 
 Then we had not been close acquaintances. 
 
 "Oh, by the way, you have that other cipher yet, 
 haven t you ?" he asked. 
 
 "No, I burnt it," I said unblushingly. 
 
 "That s right," he said. "It was best not to take 
 risks. Of course you understand that it won t do 
 for us to be seen together." 
 
 "Certainly not," I assented. 
 
 "I have arranged for another office. Here s the 
 address. Yours is Room 15. I have the key to 17, 
 and 1 6 is vacant between with a To Let sign on it. 
 They open into each other. You understand ?" 
 
 "Perfectly," I said. 
 
40 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "You will be there by nine o clock for your or 
 ders. If you get none by twelve, there will be none 
 for the day." 
 
 "If I can t be there, I ll let you know." I was off 
 my guard for a moment, thinking of the possible 
 demands of Henry s unknown employer. 
 
 "You will do nothing of the kind," said Dodd- 
 ridge Knapp shortly. His voice, so smooth and 
 businesslike a moment before, changed suddenly to 
 a growl. His heavy eyebrows came down, and from 
 under them flashed a dangerous light. "You will be 
 there when I tell you, young man, or you ll have to 
 reckon with another sort of customer than the one 
 you ve been dealing with. This matter requires 
 prompt and strict obedience to orders. One slip 
 may ruin the whole plan." 
 
 "You can depend on me," I said with assumed 
 confidence. "Am I to have any discretion?" 
 
 "None whatever." 
 
 I had thus far been able to get no hint of his pur 
 poses. If I had not known what I knew, I should 
 have supposed that his mind was concentrated on 
 the apparent object before him to secure the zeal 
 and fidelity of an employee in some important busi 
 ness operation. 
 
 "And what am I to do?" I asked. 
 
 "Be a capitalist," he said with an ironical smile. 
 "Buy and sell what I tell you to buy and sell. Keep 
 under cover, but not too much under cover. You 
 can pick your own brokers. Better begin with Bock- 
 
DODDRIDGEKNAPP 41 
 
 stein and Eppner, though. Your checks will be hon 
 ored at the Nevada Bank. Oh, here s a cipher, in 
 case I want to write you. I suppose you ll want 
 some ready money." 
 
 Doddridge Knapp was certainly a liberal pro 
 vider, for he shoved a handful of twenty-dollar gold 
 pieces across the desk in a way that made my eyes 
 open. 
 
 "By the way," he continued, "I don t think I have 
 your signature, have I ?" 
 
 "No, sir," I replied with prompt confidence. 
 
 "Well, just write it on this slip then. I ll turn it 
 into the bank for your identification. You can take 
 this check-book with you." 
 
 "Anything more?" 
 
 "That s all," he replied with a nod of dismissal. 
 "Maybe it s to-morrow maybe it s next month." 
 
 And I walked out into Montgomery Street, be 
 wildered among the conflicting mysteries in which 
 I had been entangled. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 A NIGHT AT BORTON S 
 
 Room 15 was a plain, comfortable office in a 
 plain, comfortable building on Clay Street, not far 
 from the heart of the business district. It was on the 
 second floor, and its one window opened to the rear, 
 and faced a desolate assortment of back yards, rear 
 walls, and rickety stairways. The floor had a worn 
 carpet, and there was a desk, a few chairs and a shelf 
 of law books. The place looked as though it had be 
 longed to a lawyer in reduced circumstances, and I 
 could but wonder how it had come into the posses 
 sion of Doddridge Knapp, and what had become of 
 its former occupant. 
 
 I tried to thrust aside a spirit of melancholy, and 
 looked narrowly to the opportunities offered by the 
 room for attack and defense. The walls were solidly 
 built. The window-casement showed an unusual 
 depth for a building of that height. The wall had 
 been put in to withstand an earthquake shock. The 
 door opening into the hall, the door into Room 16, 
 and the window furnished the three avenues of pos 
 sible attack or retreat. The window upon examina 
 tion appeared impracticable. There was a sheer 
 
A NIGHT AT BORTON S 43 
 
 drop of twenty feet, without a projection of any 
 kind below it. The ledge was hardly an inch wide. 
 The iron shutters by which it might be closed did 
 not swing within ten feet of any other window. The 
 one chance of getting in by this line was to drop a 
 rope ladder from the roof. The door opening into 
 Room 1 6 was not heavy, and the lock was a cheap 
 affair. A good kick would send the whole thing into 
 splinters. As it swung into Number 16 and not into 
 my room it could not be braced with a barricade. 
 Plainly it was not a good place to spend the night 
 should Doddridge Knapp care to engineer another 
 case of mysterious disappearance. 
 
 The depression of spirits that progressed with my 
 survey of the room deepened into gloom as I flung 
 myself into the arm-chair before the desk , and tried 
 to plan some way out of the tangle in which I was 
 involved. How was I, single-handed, to contend 
 against the power of the richest man in the city, and 
 bring home to him the murder of Henry Wilton? 
 I could look for no assistance from the police. The 
 words of Detective Coogan were enough to show 
 that only the most convincing proof of guilt, backed 
 by fear of public sentiment, could bring the depart 
 ment to raise a finger against him. And how could 
 I hope to rouse that public sentiment ? What would 
 my \vord count against that of the King of the 
 Street? 
 
 Where was the motive for the crime? Until that 
 was- made clear I could not hope to piece together 
 
44 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 the scraps of evidence into a solid structure of proof. 
 And what motive could there be that would recon 
 cile the DocMridge Knapp who sought the life of 
 Henry Wilton, with the Doddridge Knapp of this 
 morning, who was ready to engage him in his con 
 fidential business? And had I the right to accept 
 any part in his business ? It had the flavor of treach 
 ery about it ; yet it seemed the only possible chance 
 to come upon the secret springs of his acts, to come 
 in touch with the tools and accomplices in his crime. 
 And the unknown mission, that had brought Henry 
 to his death? How was I to play his part in that? 
 And even if I could take his place, how was I to 
 serve the mysterious employer and Doddridge 
 Knapp at the same time, when Doddridge Knapp 
 was ready to murder me to gain the Unknown s 
 secret. 
 
 Fatigue and loss of sleep deepened the dejection 
 of mind that oppressed me with these insistent ques 
 tions, and as I vainly struggled against it, carried 
 me at last into the oblivion of dreamless slumber. 
 
 The next I knew I was awaking to the sound of 
 breaking glass. It was dark but for a feeble light 
 that came from the window. Every bone in my 
 body ached from the cramped position in which I 
 had slept, and it seemed an age before I could rouse 
 myself to act. It was, however, but a second before 
 I was on my feet, revolver in hand, with the desk 
 between me and a possible assailant. 
 
 Silence, threatening, oppressive, surrounded me 
 
A NIGHT AT BORTON S 45 
 
 as I stood listening, watching, for the next move. 
 Then I heard a low chuckle, as of some one strug 
 gling to restrain his laughter; and so -far from sym 
 pathizing with his mirth, I was tempted to try the 
 effect of a shot as an assistance in suppressing it. 
 
 "I thought the transom was open," said a low 
 voice, which still seemed to be struggling with sup 
 pressed laughter. 
 
 "I guess it woke him up," said another and 
 harsher voice. "I heard a noise in there." 
 
 "You re certain he s there?" asked the first voice 
 with another chuckle. 
 
 "Sure, Dicky. I saw him go in, and Porter and I 
 have taken turns on watch ever since." 
 
 "Well, it s time he came out," said Dicky. "He 
 can t be asleep after that racket. Say!" he called, 
 "Harry! What s the matter with you? If you re 
 dead let us know." 
 
 They appeared friendly, but I hesitated in fram 
 ing an answer. 
 
 "We ll have to break down the door, I guess," 
 said Dicky. "Something must have happened." 
 And a resounding kick shook the panel. 
 
 "Hold on!" I cried. "What s wanted?" 
 
 "Oh," said Dicky sarcastically. "You ve come to 
 life again, have you." 
 
 "Well, I m not dead yet." 
 
 "Then strike a light and let us in. And take a 
 look at that reminder you ll find wrapped around the 
 rock I heaved through the transom. I thought it 
 
46 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 was open." And Dicky went off into another series 
 of chuckles in appreciation of his mistake. 
 
 "All right," I said. I was not entirely trustful, 
 and after I had lighted the gas-jet I picked up the 
 stone that lay among the fragments of glass, and 
 unwrapped the paper. The sheet bore only the 
 words : 
 
 "At Borton s, at midnight. 
 
 Richmond." 
 
 This was the name of the agent of the Unknown, 
 who had sent the other note. Dicky and his com 
 panion must then be protectors instead of enemies. 
 I hastened to unlock the door, and in walked my two 
 visitors. 
 
 The first was a young man, tall, well-made, with 
 a shrewd, good-humored countenance, and a ready, 
 confident air about him. I had no trouble in picking 
 him out as the amused Dicky. The other was a 
 black-bearded giant, who followed stolidly in the 
 wake of the younger man. 
 
 "You ve led me a pretty chase," said Dicky. "If 
 it hadn t been for Pork Chops here, I shouldn t have 
 found you till the cows come home." 
 
 "Well, what s up now?" I asked. 
 
 "Why, you ought to know," said Dicky with evi 
 dent surprise. "But you d better be hurrying down 
 to Borton s. The gang must be there by now." 
 
 I could only wonder who Borton might be, and 
 where his place was, and what connection he might 
 
A NIGHT AT BORTON S 47 
 
 have with the mystery, as Dicky took me by the arm 
 and hurried me out into the darkness. The chill 
 night air served to nerve instead of depress my 
 spirits, as the garrulous Dicky unconsciously guided 
 me to the meeting-place, joyously narrating some 
 amusing adventure of the day, while the heavy re 
 tainer stalked in silence behind. 
 
 Down near the foot of Jackson Street, where the 
 smell of bilge-water and the wash of the sewers grew 
 stronger, and the masts of vessels could just be seen 
 in the darkness outlined against the sky, Dicky sud 
 denly stopped and drew me into a doorway. Our re 
 tainer disappeared at the same instant, and the street 
 was apparently deserted. Then out of the night- the 
 shape of a man approached with silent steps. 
 
 "Five sixteen," croaked Dicky. 
 
 The man gave a visible start. 
 
 "Sixteen five," he croaked in return. 
 
 "Any signs ?" whispered Dicky, 
 
 "Six men went up stairs across the street. Every 
 one of them did the sailor-drunk act." 
 
 "Sure they weren t sailors?" 
 
 "Well, when six coves goes up the same stairs 
 trying the same dodge, all inside of ten minutes, I 
 has a right to my suspicions. And Darby Meeker 
 ain t been to sea yet that I knows on." 
 
 "Darby Meeker!" exclaimed Dicky in a whisper. 
 And he drew a whistle under his breath. "What do 
 you think of that, Wilton? I had no idea he was 
 back from that wild-goose chase you sent him on." 
 
48 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "It looks bad," I admitted cautiously. "I dare 
 say he isn t in good temper." 
 
 "You ll have to settle with him for that piece of 
 business/ said Dicky with a chuckle. 
 
 I failed to see the amusing side of the prospect. I 
 wished I knew what Mr. Meeker looked like. 
 
 The guard had melted away into the darkness 
 without another word, and we hurried forward with 
 due caution. Just past the next corner was a lighted 
 room, and the sound of voices broke the quiet. A 
 triangular glass lantern projected from above the 
 door, and such of the paint as had not weathered 
 away made the announcement : 
 
 We pushed open the door and walked in. The 
 room was large and dingy, the ceiling low. Tables 
 were scattered about the sanded floor. A bar took 
 up the side of the room next the entrance, and a 
 general air of disreputability filled the place. The 
 only attempts at ornament, unless the arrangement 
 of various-colored bottles behind the bar came under 
 that head, were the circles and festoons of dirty cut 
 paper hanging from the ceiling. 
 
A NIGHT AT BORTON S 49 
 
 About the room, some at the tables, some at the 
 bar, were numbers of stout, rough-looking men, 
 with a few Greek fishermen and two or three sailors. 
 
 Behind the bar sat a woman whose appearance in 
 that place almost startled me. She might have been 
 nearing seventy, and a hard and evil life had left its 
 marks on her bent frame and her gaunt face. Her 
 leathery cheeks were lined deep, and a hawk-like 
 nose emphasized the unpleasant suggestions con 
 veyed by her face and figure. But the most remark 
 able feature about her was her eyes. There was no 
 trace of age in them. Bright and keen as the eyes 
 of a rat, they gave me an unpleasant thrill as I felt 
 her gaze fixed upon me when I entered the door, 
 arm in arm with Dicky. It was as though they had 
 pierced me through, and had laid bare something 
 I would have concealed. It was a relief to pass be 
 yond her into a recessed part of the room where her 
 gaze might waste itself on the back of my head. 
 
 "Mother Borton s up late to-night/ said Dicky 
 thoughtfully, as he ordered wine. 
 
 "You can t blame her for thinking that this crowd 
 needs watching," I suggested with as much of airi 
 ness as I could throw into my manner. 
 
 Dicky shook his head for a second, and then re 
 sumed his light-hearted, bantering way. Yet I could 
 see that he was perplexed and anxious about some 
 thing that had come to his attention on our arrival. 
 
 "You ll not want to attend to business till all the 
 boys are here?" asked Dicky. 
 
50 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "Not unless there s something to be done," I re 
 sponded dryly. 
 
 Dicky gave me a quick glance. 
 
 "Of course," he said with a laugh that was not 
 quite easy, "not unless there s something to be done. 
 But I thought there was something." 
 
 "You ve got a fine mind for thinking, Dicky," I 
 replied. "You d better cultivate it." 
 
 "Well, they say there s nothing like society for 
 that sort of cultivation," said Dicky with another 
 laugh. "They don t say what kind, but I ve got a 
 pretty good stock here to choose from." He was at 
 his ease in banter again, but it struck unpleasantly 
 on me that there was something behind. 
 
 "Oh, here s a queer friend," he said suddenly, 
 looking to the door. "I d better speak to him on the 
 matter of countersigns." 
 
 "By all means," I said, turning in my chair to 
 survey the new-comer. 
 
 I saw the face for an instant. The man wore a 
 sou wester, and he had drawn his thick, rough coat 
 up as though he would hide his head under the 
 collar. Cheek and chin I could see were covered by 
 a thick blond beard. His movements were apparently 
 clumsy, but his figure was lithe and sinuous. And 
 his eyes ! Once seen they never could be forgotten. 
 At their glance, beard and sou wester dropped away 
 before my fancy, and I saw in my inner vision the 
 man of the serpent glance who had chilled my spirit 
 when I had first put foot in the city. It flashed on 
 
ANIGHTATBORTON S 51 
 
 me in an instant that this was the same man dis 
 guised, who had ventured into the midst of his 
 enemies to see what he might learn of their plans. 
 
 As I watched Dicky advance and greet the new 
 comer with apparent inquiry, a low harsh voice be 
 hind gave me a start of surprise. 
 
 "This is your wine, I think," and a lean, wrin 
 kled arm passed over my shoulder, and a wrinkled 
 face came near my own. 
 
 I turned quickly. It was Mother Borton, leering 
 at me \vith no apparent interest but in her errand. 
 
 "What are you doing here?" asked the crone in a 
 voice still lower. "You re not the one they take you 
 to be, but you re none the less in danger. What are 
 you doing with his looks, and in this place? Look 
 out for that man you re with, and the other. Yes, 
 sir," her voice rose. "A small bottle of the white; 
 in a minute, sir." 
 
 I understood her as Dicky and the new-comer 
 came to the table and took seats opposite. I com 
 manded my face to give no sign of suspicion, but the 
 warning put me on the alert. I had come on the 
 supposition that I was to meet the band to which 
 Henry Wilton belonged. Instead of being among 
 friends, however, it seemed now that I was among 
 enemies. 
 
 "It s all right," said Dicky carelessly. "He s been 
 sent/ 
 
 "That s lucky," said I with equal unconcern. 
 "We may need an extra hand before morning." 
 
52 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 The new-comer could not repress a triumphant 
 flash in the serpent eyes. 
 
 "I m the one for your job," he said hoarsely, his 
 face as impassive as a stone wall. 
 
 "What do you know about the job?" I asked sus 
 piciously. 
 
 "Only what I ve been told," he answered. 
 
 "And that is" 
 
 "That it s a job for silence, secrecy, and " 
 
 "Spondulicks," said Dicky with a laugh, as the 
 other hesitated for a word. 
 
 "Just so," said the man. 
 
 "And what else?" I continued, pressing him 
 firmly. 
 
 "Well," he admitted hoarsely, "I learned as how 
 there was to be a change of place to-night, and I 
 might be needed." 
 
 I looked at him inquiringly. Perhaps I was on the 
 threshold of knowledge of this cursed business from 
 the mouth of the enemy. 
 
 "I heard as how the boy was to be put in a safer 
 place," he said, wagging his head with affected 
 gravity. 
 
 Some imp put it into my brain to try him with an 
 unexpected bit of news. 
 
 "Oh," I said coolly, "that s all attended to. The 
 change was made yesterday." 
 
 The effect of this announcement was extraordi 
 nary. The man started with an oath. 
 
 "The hell you say!" he exclaimed in a low, 
 
A NIGHT AT BORTON S 53 
 
 smooth voice, far different from the harsh tone he 
 had used thus far. Then he leaped to his feet, with 
 uncontrollable rage. 
 
 Tricked by God!" he shouted impulsively, and 
 smote the table with his fist. 
 
 His outburst threw the room into confusion. Men 
 sprang from their chairs. Glasses and bottles fell 
 with clinking crash. Oaths and shouts arose from 
 the crowd. 
 
 "Damn you, I ll have it out of you!" said the man 
 with suppressed fury, his voice once again smooth 
 and low. "Where is the boy ?" 
 
 He smote the table again; and with that stroke 
 the false beard fell from his chin and cheek, and ex 
 posed the malignant face, distorted with rage. A 
 feeling of horrible repulsion came over me, and I 
 should have struck at that serpent s head but for a 
 startling occurrence. As he spoke, a wild scream 
 rose upon the air, and as it echoed through the room 
 the lights went out. 
 
 The scream was repeated, and after an instant s 
 silence there rose a chorus of shouts and oaths, 
 mingled with the crash of tables and the clink of 
 breaking glass and crockery, as the men in the room 
 fought their way to the door. 
 
 "Oh, my God, I m cut!" came in a shriek out of 
 the darkness and clamor; and there followed the 
 flash of a pistol and a report that boomed like a 
 cannon in that confined place. 
 
 My eyes had not been idle after the warning of 
 
54 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 Mother Borton, and in an instant I had decided 
 what to do. I had figured out what I conceived to 
 be the plan of the house, and thought I knew a way 
 of escape. There were two doors at the rear of the 
 room, and facing me. One led, as I knew, to the 
 kitchen ; the other opened, I reasoned, on a stair to 
 the lodging-rooms above. 
 
 Before the scream that accompanied the extinc 
 tion of the lights had died away, I had made a dive 
 beneath the table, and, lifting with all my might, 
 had sent it crashing over with my enemy under it. 
 With one leap I cleared the remaining table that lay 
 between me and the door. And with the clamor be 
 hind me, I turned the knob and bounded up the 
 stairs, three steps at a time. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 MOTHER BORTON 
 
 The noise of the struggle below continued. Yells 
 and curses rose from the maddened men. Three 
 shots were fired in quick succession, and a cry of 
 "Oh, my Lord !" penetrated through the closed door 
 with the sound of one sorely hurt. 
 
 I lingered for a little, listening to the tumult. I 
 was in a strange and dangerous position. Enemies 
 were behind me. There were friends, too, but I 
 knew no way to tell one from the other, and my 
 ignorance had nearly brought me to my death. I 
 hesitated to move, but I could not remain in the open 
 hall; and as the sounds of disturbance from below 
 subsided, I felt my way along the wall and moved 
 cautiously forward. 
 
 I had progressed perhaps twenty steps when a 
 door, against which my hand pressed, yielded at the 
 touch and swung slowly open. I strove to stop it, 
 for the first opening showed a dim light within. But 
 the panel gave no hold for my fingers, and my ef 
 forts to close the door only swung it open the faster. 
 I drew back a little into the shadow, for I hesitated 
 to dash past the sight of any who might occupy the 
 room. 
 
 55 
 
56 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "Come in !" called a harsh voice. 
 
 I hesitated. Behind, the road led to the eating- 
 room with its known dangers. A dash along the 
 hall for the front door meant the raising of an 
 alarm, and probably a bullet as a discourager of 
 burglary. Should I escape this, I could be certain 
 of a warm reception from the enemies on watch 
 outside. Prudence lay in facing the one rather than 
 risking the many. I accepted the invitation and 
 walked into the room. 
 
 "I was expecting you," said the harsh voice com 
 posedly. "Good evening." 
 
 "Good evening," I returned gravely, swallowing 
 my amazement as best I could. 
 
 By the table before me sat Mother Borton, con 
 templating me as calmly as though this meeting 
 were the most commonplace thing in the world. A 
 candle furnished a dim, flickering light that gave to 
 her hard wicked countenance a diabolic leer that 
 struck a chill to my blood. 
 
 "Excuse me," I said, "I have lost my way, I 
 fear." 
 
 "Not at all," said Mother Borton. "You are in 
 the right place." 
 
 "I was afraid I had intruded," I said apologeti 
 cally. 
 
 "I expected you," she repeated. "Shut the door." 
 
 I glanced about the room. There was no sign of 
 another person to be seen, and no other door. I 
 obeyed her. 
 
M OTHER BORTON 57 
 
 "You might as well sit down," she said with some 
 petulance. "There s nothing up here to hurt you." 
 There was so much meaning in her tone of the 
 things that would hurt me on the floor below that I 
 hastened to show my confidence in her, and drew up 
 a chair to the table. 
 
 "At your service," I said, leaning before hei 
 with as much an appearance of jaunty self-posses 
 sion as I could muster. 
 
 "Who are you, and what are you doing here ?" she 
 risked grimly. 
 
 What should I answer? Could I tell her the 
 truth ? 
 
 "Who are you?" she repeated impatiently, gazing 
 on me. "You are not Wilton. Tell me. Who are 
 yott?" 
 
 The face, hard as it was, seamed w T ith the record 
 of a rough and evil life, as it appeared, had yet a 
 kindly look as it was turned on me. 
 
 "My name is Dudley, Giles Dudley." 
 
 "Where is Wilton?" 
 
 "Dead." 
 
 "Dead? Did you kill him?" The half-kindly look 
 disappeared from her eyes, and the hard lines set 
 tled into an expression of malevolent repulsiveness. 
 
 "He was my best friend," I said sadly; and then 
 I described the leading events of the tragedy I had 
 witnessed. 
 
 The old woman listened closely, and with hardly 
 the movement of a muscle, to the tale I told. 
 
58 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "And you think he left his job to you?" she said 
 with a sneer. 
 
 "I have taken it up as well as I can. To be frank 
 with you, Mrs. Borton, I know nothing about his 
 job. I m going along on blind chance, and trying to 
 keep a whole skin." 
 
 The old woman looked at me in amazement. 
 
 "Poor boy!" she exclaimed half-pityingly, half- 
 admiringly. "You put your hands to a job you 
 know nothing about, when Henry Wilton couldn t 
 carry it with all his wits about him." 
 
 "I didn t do it," said I sullenly. "It has done it 
 self. Everybody insists that I m Wilton. If I m to 
 have my throat slit for him I might as well try to do 
 his work. I wish to Heaven I knew what it was, 
 though." 
 
 Mother Borton leaned her head on her hand, and 
 gazed on me thoughtfully for a full minute. 
 
 "Young man," said she impressively, "take my 
 advice. There s a train for the East in the mornin . 
 Just git on board, and never you stop short of Chi 
 cago." 
 
 "I m not running away," said I bitterly. "I ve 
 got a score to settle with the man who killed Henry 
 Wilton. When that score is settled, I ll go to Chi 
 cago or anywhere else. Until that s done, I stay 
 where I can settle it." 
 
 Mother Borton caught up the candle and moved 
 it back and forth before my face. In her eyes there 
 was a gleam of savage pleasure. 
 
Mother Borton moved the candle back and forth before my face 
 
 See page 58 
 
M OTHER BORTON 59 
 
 "By God, he s in earnest!" she said to herself, 
 with a strange laugh. "Tell me again of the man 
 you saw in the alley." 
 
 I described Doddridge Knapp. 
 
 "And you are going to get even with him?" she 
 said with a chuckle that had no mirth in it. 
 
 "Yes," said I shortly. 
 
 "Why, if you should touch him the people of the 
 city would tear you to pieces." 
 
 "I shall not touch him. I m no assassin!" I ex 
 claimed indignantly. "The law shall take him, and 
 I ll see him hanged as high as Haman." 
 
 Mother Borton gave a low gurgling laugh. 
 
 "The law! oh, my liver, the law! How young 
 you are, my boy ! Oh, ho, oh ho !" And again she 
 absorbed her mirthless laugh, and gave me an evil 
 grin. Then she became grave again, and laid a claw 
 on my sleeve. "Take my advice now, and git on the 
 train." 
 
 "Not I !" I returned stoutly. 
 
 "I m doing it for your own good," she said, with 
 as near an approach to a coaxing tone as she could 
 command. It was long since she had used her voice 
 for such a purpose and it grated. "For my sake I d 
 like to see you go on and wipe out the whole raft 
 of em. But I know what ll happen to ye, honey. 
 I ve took a fancy to ye. I don t know why. But 
 there s a look on your face that carries me back for 
 forty years, and don t try it, dearie." 
 
 There were actually tears in the creature s eyes, 
 
60 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 and her hard, wicked face softened, and became al 
 most tender and womanly. 
 
 "I can t give up," I said. "The work is put on 
 me. But can t you help me ? I believe you want to. 
 I trust you. Tell me what to do where I stand. 
 I m all in the dark, but I must do my work." 
 
 It was the best appeal I could have made. 
 
 "You re right," she said. "I m an old fool, and 
 you ve got the real sand. You re the first one ex 
 cept Henry Wilton that s trusted me in forty years, 
 and you won t be sorry for it, my boy. You owe 
 me one, now. Where would you have been to-night 
 if I hadn t had the light doused on ye?" 
 
 "Oh, that was your doing, was it ? I thought my 
 time had come." 
 
 "Oh, I was sure you d know what to do. It was 
 your best chance." 
 
 "Then will you help me, now ?" 
 
 The old crone considered, and her face grew 
 sharp and cunning in its look. 
 
 "What can I do?" 
 
 "Tell me, in God s name, where I stand. What is 
 this dreadful mystery? Who is this boy? Why is 
 he hidden, and why do these people want to know 
 where he is? Who is behind me, and who threatens 
 me with death ?" 
 
 I burst out with these questions passionately, al 
 most frantically. This was the first time I had had 
 chance to demand them of another human being. 
 
 Mother Borton gave me a leer, 
 
M OTHER BORTON 61 
 
 "I wish I could tell you, my dear, but I don t 
 know." 
 
 "You mean you dare not tell me/ I said boldly. 
 "You have done me a great service, but if I am to 
 save myself from the dangers that surround me I 
 must know more. Can t you see that?" 
 
 "Yes," she nodded. "You re in a hard row of 
 stumps, young man." 
 
 "And you can help me." 
 
 "Well, I will," she said, suddenly softening again. 
 "I took a shine to you when you came in, an I says 
 to myself, I ll save that young fellow, an I done it. 
 And I ll do more. Mr. Wilton was a fine gentleman, 
 an I d do something, if I could, to git even with 
 those murderin gutter-pickers that laid him out on 
 a slab." 
 
 She hesitated, and looked around at the shadows 
 thrown by the flickering candle. 
 
 "Well?" I said impatiently. "Who is the boy, 
 and where is he ?" 
 
 "Never you mind that, young fellow. Let me tell 
 you what I know. Then maybe we ll have time to 
 go into the things I don t know." 
 
 It \vas of no use to urge her. I bowed my assent 
 to her terms. 
 
 "I ll name no names," she said. "My throat can 
 be cut as quick as yours, and maybe a damned sight 
 quicker." 
 
 Mother Borton had among her failings a weak 
 ness for profanity. I have omitted most of her 
 
62 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 references to sacred and other subjects of the kind 
 in transcribing her remarks. 
 
 The ones that has the boy means all right. 
 They re rich. The ones as is looking for the boy is 
 all wrong. They ll be rich if they gits him." 
 
 "How?" 
 
 "Why, I don t know," said Mother Borton. "I m 
 tellin you what Henry Wilton told me." 
 
 This was maddening. I began to suspect that she 
 knew nothing after all. 
 
 "Do you know where he is?" I asked, taking the 
 questioning into my own hands. 
 
 "No," sullenly. 
 
 "Who is protecting him?" 
 
 "I don t know." 
 
 "Who is trying to get him ?" 
 
 "It s that snake-eyed Tom Terrill that s leading 
 the hunt, along with Darby Meeker; but they ain t 
 doing it for themselves." 
 
 "Is Doddridge Knapp behind them ?" 
 
 The old woman looked at me suddenly in wild- 
 eyed alarm. 
 
 "S-s-h !" she whispered. "Don t name no names." 
 
 "But I saw" 
 
 She put her hand over my mouth. 
 
 "He s in it somewhere, or the devil is, but I don t 
 know where. He s an awful man. He s everywhere 
 at once. He s oh Lord ! What was that ? 
 
 I had become infected with her nervousness, and 
 at a cracking or creaking sound turned around with 
 
M OTHER BORTON 63 
 
 half an expectation of seeing Doddridge Knapp him 
 self coming in the door. 
 
 There was no one there nothing to be seen but 
 the flickering shadows, and no sound broke the still 
 ness as we listened. 
 
 "It s nothing," I said. 
 
 "I reckon I ain t got no call to be scared at any 
 crackings in this old house," said Mother Borton 
 with a nervous giggle. "I ve hearn em long enough. 
 But that man s name gives me the shivers." 
 
 "What did he ever do to you?" I asked with some 
 curiosity. 
 
 "He never did nothing," she said, "but I hearn 
 tell dreadful things that s gone on of nights, how 
 Doddridge Knapp or his ghost was seen killing a 
 Chinaman over at North Beach, while Doddridge 
 Knapp or his ghost, whichever was the other one, 
 was speaking at a meeting, at the Pavilion. And 
 I hearn of his drinkin blood " 
 
 "Nonsense!" said I; "where did you get such 
 stories?" 
 
 "Well, they re told me for true, and by ones I be 
 lieve," she said stoutly. "Oh, there s queer things 
 goes on. Doddridge Knapp or the devil, it s all one. 
 But it s ill saying things of them that can be in two 
 places at once." And the old dame looked nervously 
 about her. "They ve hushed things up in the papers, 
 and fixed the police, but people have tongues." 
 
 I wondered what mystification had given rise to 
 these absurd reports, but there was nothing to be 
 
64 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 gained by pursuing them. The killing of the China 
 man might have been something to my hand, but if 
 Doddridge Knapp had such a perfect alibi it was a 
 waste of time to look into it. 
 
 "And is this all you know?" I asked in disap 
 pointment. 
 
 Mother Borton tried to remember some other 
 point. 
 
 "I don t see how it s going to keep a knife from 
 between my ribs/ I complained. 
 
 "You keep out of the way of Tom Terrill and his 
 hounds, and you ll be all right, I reckon." 
 
 "Am I supposed to be the head man in this busi 
 ness?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Who are my men?" 
 
 "There s Wilson and Fitzhugh and Port T and 
 Brown," and she named ten or a dozen more. 
 
 "And what is Dicky?" 
 
 "It s a smart man as can put his finger on Dicky 
 Nahl," said Mother Borton spitefully. 
 
 "Nahl is his name?" 
 
 "Yes. And I ve seen him hobnob with Henry 
 Wilton, and I ve seen him thick as thieves with Tom 
 Terrill, and which he s thickest with the devil him 
 self couldn t tell. I call him Slippery Dicky." 
 
 "Why did he bring me here to-night?" 
 
 "I hearn there s orders come to change the place 
 the boy s place, you know. You was to tell em 
 where the new one was to be, I reckon, but Tom 
 
M OTHER BORTON 65 
 
 Terrill spoiled things. He s lightning, is Tom Ter- 
 rill. But I guess he got it all out of Dicky, though 
 where Dicky got it the Lord only knows." 
 
 This was all that was to be had from Mother 
 Borton. Either she knew no more, or she was sharp 
 enough to hide a knowledge that might be danger 
 ous, even fatal, to reveal. She was willing to serve 
 me, and I was forced to let it pass that she knew 
 no more. 
 
 "Well, I d better be going then," said I at last. 
 "It s nearly four o clock, and everything seems to 
 be quiet hereabouts. I ll find my way to my room." 
 
 "You ll do no such thing," said Mother Borton. 
 "They ve not given up the chase yet. Your men 
 have gone home, I reckon, but I ll bet the saloon 
 that you d have a surprise before you got to the 
 corner." 
 
 "Not a pleasant prospect," said I grimly. 
 
 "No. You must stay here. The room next to 
 this one is just the thing for you. See?" 
 
 She drew me into the adjoining room, shading 
 the candle as we passed through the hall that no 
 gleam might fall where it would attract attention. 
 
 "You ll be safe here," she said. "Now do as I 
 say. Go to sleep and git some rest. You ain t had 
 much, I guess, since you got to San Francisco." 
 
 The room was cheerless, but in the circumstances 
 the advice appeared good. I was probably safer here 
 than in the street, and I needed the rest. 
 
 "Good night," said my strange protectress. "You 
 
66 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 needn t git up till you git ready. This is a beautiful 
 room beautiful. I call it our bridal chamber, 
 though we don t get no brides down here. There 
 won t be no sun to bother your eyes in the mornin , 
 for that window don t open up outside. So there 
 can t nobody git in unless he comes from inside the 
 house. There, git to bed. Look out you don t set 
 fire to nothing. And put out the candle. Now 
 good night, dearie." 
 
 Mother Borton closed the door behind her, and 
 left me to the shadows. 
 
 Her departure did not leave me wholly at my 
 ease. I had escaped from my foes, but I was no 
 closer to being in touch with those who would be 
 my friends; and before daylight I might be lying 
 here with my throat slit. At the reflection I hastily 
 bolted the door, and tried the fastenings of the win 
 dow. All seemed secure, but the sound of a foot 
 step in the passageway gave me a start for an in 
 stant. 
 
 "Only Mother Borton going down stairs," I 
 thought, with a smile at my fears. 
 
 There was nothing to be gained by sitting up, and 
 the candle was past its final inch. I felt that I could 
 not sleep, but I would lie down on the bed and rest 
 my tired limbs, that I might refresh myself for the 
 demands of the day. I kicked off my boots, put my 
 revolver under my hand, and lay down. 
 
 Heedless of Mother Borton s warning I left the 
 candle to burn to the socket, and watched the flicker- 
 
MOTHER BORTQN 67 
 
 ing shadows chase each other over walls and ceil 
 ing. The shadows grew larger and blacker, and 
 took fantastic shapes of men and beasts. And then 
 with a confused impression of deadly fear and of an 
 effort to escape from peril, a blacker shadow swal 
 lowed up all that had gone before, and carried me 
 with it. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 IN WHICH I MEET A FEW SURPRISES 
 
 I awoke with the sense of threatened danger 
 strong in my mind. For a moment I was unable to 
 recall where I was, or on what errand I had come. 
 Then memory returned in a flood, and I sprang 
 from the bed and peered about me. 
 
 A dim light struggled in from the darkened win 
 dow, but no cause for apprehension could be seen. 
 I was the only creature that breathed the air of that 
 bleak and dingy room. 
 
 I drew aside the curtain, and threw up the win 
 dow. It opened merely on a light-well, and the 
 blank walls beyond gave back the cheery reflection 
 of a patch of sunlight that fell at an angle from 
 above. 
 
 The fresher air that crept in from the window 
 cleared my mind, a dash of water refreshed my 
 body, and I was ready once more to face whatever 
 might befall. 
 
 I looked at my watch. It was eight o clock, and I 
 had slept four hours in this place, Truly I had been 
 imprudent after my adventure below, but I had been 
 right in trusting Mother Borton. Then I began to 
 
 68 
 
I MEET A FEW SURPRISES 69 
 
 realize that I was outrageously hungry, and I re 
 membered that I should be at the office by nine 
 to receive the commands of Doddridge Knapp, 
 should he choose to send them. 
 
 I threw back the bolt, but when I tried to swing 
 the door open it resisted my efforts. The key had 
 been missing when I closed it, but a sliding bolt 
 had fastened it securely. NOW T I saw that the door 
 was locked. 
 
 Here was a strange predicament. I had heard 
 nothing of the noise of the key before I lost myself 
 in slumber. Mother Borton must have turned it as 
 an additional precaution as I slept. But how was 
 I to get out ? I hesitated to make a noise that could 
 attract attention. It might bring some one less 
 kindly disposed than my hostess of the night. But 
 there was no other way. I was trapped, and must 
 take the risk of summomng assistance. 
 
 I rapped on the panel and listened. No sound re 
 warded me. I rapped again more vigorously, but 
 only silence followed. The house might have been 
 the grave for all the signs of life it gave back. 
 
 There was something ominous about it. To be 
 locked, thus, in a dark room of this house in which 
 I had already been attacked, was enough to shake 
 my spirit and resolution for the moment. What lay 
 without the door, my apprehension asked me. Was 
 it part of the plot to get the secret it was supposed 
 I held ? Had Mother Borton been murdered, and the 
 house seized? Or had Mother Borton played me 
 
70 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 false, and was I now a prisoner to my own party 
 for my enforced imposture, as one who knew too 
 much to be left at large and too little to be of use? 
 On a second and calmer thought it was evidently 
 folly to bring my jailers about my ears, if jailers 
 there were. I abandoned my half-formed plan of 
 breaking down the door, and turned to the window 
 and the light-well. Another window faced on the 
 same space, not five feet away. If it were but 
 opened I might swing myself over and through it; 
 but it was closed, and a curtain hid the unknown 
 possibilities and dangers of the interior. A dozen 
 feet above was the roof, with no projection or foot 
 hold by which it might be reached. Below, the light- 
 well ended in a tinned floor, about four feet from 
 the window sill. 
 
 I swung myself down, and with two steps was 
 trying the other window. It was unlocked. I raised 
 the sash cautiously, but its creaking protest seemed 
 to my excited ears to be loud enough to wake any 
 but the dead. I stopped and listened after each 
 squeak of the frame. There was no sign of move 
 ment. 
 
 Then I pushed aside the curtain cautiously, and 
 looked within. The room appeared absolutely bare. 
 Gaining confidence at the sight, I threw the cur 
 tain farther back, and with a bound climbed in, re 
 volver in hand. 
 
 A scurrying sound startled me for an instant, and 
 with a scramble I gained my feet, prepared to face 
 
I MEET A FEW SURPRISES 71 
 
 whatever was before me. Then I saw the disappear 
 ing form of a great rat, and laughed at my fears. 
 
 The room was, as I had thought, bare and de 
 serted. There was a musty smell about it, as though 
 it had not been opened for a long time, and dust 
 and desolation lay heavy upon it. A dark stain 
 on the floor near the window suggested to my fancy 
 the idea of blood. Had some wayfarer less fortu 
 nate than I been inveigled to his death in this evil 
 place ? 
 
 There was, however, nothing here to linger for, 
 and I hastened to try the door. It was locked. I 
 stooped to examine the fastening. It was of the 
 cheapest kind, attached to door and casement by 
 small screws. With a good wrench it gave way, 
 and I found myself in a dark side-hall between two 
 rooms. Three steps brought me to the main hall, and 
 I recognized it for the same through which I had 
 felt my way in the darkness of the night. It was 
 not improved by the daylight, and a strange lone 
 liness about it was an oppression to the spirits. 
 There were six or eight rooms on the floor, and the 
 doors glowered threateningly on me, as though 
 they were conscious that I was an intruder in fear 
 of his life. 
 
 The intense stillness within the house, instead of 
 reassuring me, served as a threat. After my ex 
 perience of the night, it spoke of treachery, not of 
 peace. 
 
 I took my steps cautiously down the stairs, fol- 
 
72 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 lowing the way that led to the side entrance. The 
 saloon and restaurant room I was anxious to evade, 
 for there would doubtless be a barkeeper and several 
 loiterers about. It could not be avoided, however. 
 As I neared the bottom of the stairs, I saw that a 
 door led from the hallway to the saloon, and that 
 it was open. 
 
 I moved slowly down, a step at a time, then from 
 over-cautiousness tripped and came down the last 
 three steps at once with the clatter of a four-horse 
 team. 
 
 But nobody stirred. Then I glanced through the 
 open door, and was stricken cold with astonish 
 ment. The room was empty! 
 
 The chairs and tables that a few hours ago I had 
 seen scattered about were gone. There was no sign 
 that the place had been occupied in months. 
 
 I stepped into the room that I had seen crowded 
 with eager friends and enemies, eating, drinking, 
 ready for desperate deeds. My step echoed strangely 
 with the echo of an untenanted house. The bar and 
 the shelves behind it were swept clear of the bottles 
 and glasses that had filled them. Dust was thick 
 over the floor and walls. The windows were stained 
 and dirty, and a paper sign on each pane informed 
 the passers-by that the house was "To Let." 
 
 Bewildered and apprehensive, I wondered 
 whether, after all, the events of the night, the sum 
 mons from Dicky Nahl, the walk in the darkness, 
 the scene in the saloon, the encounter with the 
 
I MEET A FEW SURPRISES 73 
 
 snake-eyed man, the riot, the rush up the dark 
 stair, and the interview with the old crone, were 
 not a fantastic vision from the land of dreams. 
 
 I looked cautiously through the other rooms on 
 the first floor. They were as bare as the main room. 
 The only room in the whole house that held a trace 
 of furniture or occupancy must be the one from 
 which I had escaped. It seemed that an elaborate 
 trap had been set for my benefit with such precau 
 tions that I could not prove that it ever had been. 
 
 There was, however, no time to waste in prying 
 into this mystery. By my watch it was close on nine 
 o clock, and Doddridge Knapp might even now be 
 making his way to the office where he had stationed 
 me. 
 
 The saloon s front doors were locked fast, but 
 die side door that led from the stairway to the street 
 was fastened only with a spring lock, and I swung 
 it open and stepped to the sidewalk. 
 
 A load left my spirits as the door closed behind 
 me. The fresh air of the morning was like wine 
 after the close and musty atmosphere I had been 
 breathing. 
 
 The street was but a prosaic place after the haunt 
 of mystery I had just left. It was like stepping 
 from the Dark Ages into the nineteenth century. 
 Yet there was something puzzling about it. The 
 street had no suggestion of the familiar, and it ap 
 peared somehow to have been turned end for end. 
 I had lost my sense of direction. The hills were 
 
74 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 where the bay ought to be. I seemed to have 
 changed sides of the street, and it took me a little 
 time to readjust the points of the compass. I rea 
 soned at last that Dicky Nahl had led me to the 
 street below before turning to the place, and I had 
 not noticed that we had doubled on our course. 
 
 I hurried along the streets with but a three- 
 minute stop to swallow a cup of coffee and a roll, 
 and once more mounted the stairs to the office and 
 opened the door to Number 15. 
 
 The place was in disorder. The books that had 
 been arranged on the desk and shelves were now 
 scattered about in confusion, as though they had 
 been hurriedly examined and thrown aside in a fruit 
 less search. This was a disturbing incident, and I 
 was surprised to discover that the door into the ad 
 joining room was ajar. I pushed it wide open, and 
 started back. Before me stood Doddridge Knapp, 
 his face pale as the face of a corpse, and his eyes 
 starting as though the dead had risen before him. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 A DAY IN THE MARKET 
 
 The King of the Street stood for a moment star 
 ing at me with that strange and fearsome gaze. 
 What was there in that dynamic glance that struck 
 a chill to my spirit as though the very fountain of 
 life had been attacked ? Was it the manifestation of 
 the powerful will behind that mask? Or was it 
 terror or anger that was to be read in the fiery eyes 
 that gleamed from beneath those bushy brows, and 
 in the play of the cruel mouth, which from under 
 that yellow-gray mustache gave back the sign of 
 the Wolf? 
 
 "Have you any orders, sir?" I asked in as calm a 
 voice as I could command. 
 
 "Oh, it s you, is it?" said the Wolf slowly, cover 
 ing his fangs. 
 
 It flashed on me that the attack in the Borton 
 den was of his planning, that Terrill was his tool, 
 and that he had supposed me dead. It was thus that 
 I could account for his startled gaze and evident 
 discomposure. 
 
 "Nine o clock was the time, you said," I sug 
 gested deferentially. "I believe it s a minute or two 
 past." 
 
 75 
 
76 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "Oh, yes," said Doddridge Knapp, pulling him 
 self together. "Come in here." 
 
 He looked suspiciously at me as he took a seat 
 at his desk, and motioned me to another. 
 
 "I had a little turn," he said, eying me nervously ; 
 "a vertigo, I believe the doctor called it. Just reach 
 my overcoat pocket there, will you? the left-hand 
 side. Yes, bring me that flask." 
 
 He poured out a small glass of liquor, and the 
 rich odor of brandy rose through the room. Then 
 he took a vial from an inside pocket, counted a few 
 drops into the glass, and drank it at a swallow. 
 
 I marveled at the actions of the man, and won 
 dered if he was nerving himself to some deed that 
 he lacked courage to perform. 
 
 When he had cleared his throat of the fiery liquor, 
 the Wolf turned to me with a more composed and 
 kindly expression. 
 
 "I never drink during business hours," he said 
 with a trace of apology in his tone. "It s bad for 
 business, and for the drink, too. But this is a little 
 trouble I ve had a touch of in the last two months. 
 Just remember, young man, that I expect you to do 
 your drinking after business is over and not too 
 much then. And now to business," said my em 
 ployer with decision. "Take down these orders." 
 
 The King of the Street was himself once more, 
 and I marveled again at the quickness and clearness 
 of his directions. I was to buy one hundred shares 
 of this stock, sell five hundred of that stock, buy 
 
A DAY IN THE MARKET 77 
 
 one thousand of another in blocks of one hundred, 
 and sell the same in a single block at the last session. 
 
 "And the last thing you do," he continued, "buy 
 every share of Omega that is offered. There ll be 
 a big block of it thrown on the market, and more in 
 the afternoon. Buy it, whatever the price. There s 
 likely to be a big slump. Don t bid for it don t keep 
 up the price, you understand but get it." 
 
 "If somebody else is snapping it up, do I under 
 stand that I m not to bid over them?" 
 
 "You re not to understand anything of the kind," 
 he said, with a little disgust in his tone. "You re to 
 get the stock. You ve bought and sold enough to 
 know how to do that. But don t start a boom for 
 the price. Let her go down. Sabe?" 
 
 I felt that there was deep water ahead. 
 
 "Perfectly," I said. "I think I see the whole 
 thing." 
 
 The King of the Street looked at me with a grim 
 smile. 
 
 "Maybe you do, but all the same you d better keep 
 your money out of this little deal unless you can 
 spare it as well as not. Well, get back to your room. 
 You ve got your check-book all right?" 
 
 Alone once more I was in despair of unraveling 
 the tangle in which I was involved. I felt convinced 
 that Doddridge Knapp was the mover in the plots 
 that sought my life. He had, I felt sure, believed 
 me dead, and was startled into fear at my unher 
 alded appearance. Yet why should he trust me with 
 
78 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 his business? I could not doubt that the buying 
 and selling he had given to my care were important. 
 I knew nothing about the price of stocks but I was 
 sure that the orders he had given me involved 
 many thousands of dollars. Yet it might be the 
 thought struck home to me that the credit had not 
 been provided for me, and my checks on the Ne 
 vada Bank would serve only to land me in jail. 
 
 The disturbed condition of the books attracted 
 my attention once more. The volumes were scat 
 tered over the desk and thrown about the room as 
 though somebody had been seeking for a mislaid 
 document. I looked curiously over them as I re 
 placed them on the shelves. They were law-books, 
 California Reports, and the ordinary text-books 
 and form-books of the attorney. All bore on the 
 fly-leaf the name of Horace H. Plymire, but no pa 
 per or other indication of ownership could I find. 
 
 I wondered idly who this Plymire might be, and 
 pictured to myself some old attorney who had fallen 
 into the hands of Doddridge Knapp, and had, 
 through misfortune, been forced to sell everything 
 for the mess of pottage to keep life in him. But 
 there was small time for musing, and I went out 
 to do Doddridge Knapp s bidding in the stock- 
 gambling whirlpool of Pine Street. 
 
 There was already a confused murmur of voices 
 about the rival exchanges that were the battle 
 grounds of millionaires. The "curbstone boards" 
 were in session. The buyers who traded face to face, 
 
A DAY IN THE MARKET 79 
 
 and the brokers who carried their offices under their 
 hats, were noisily bargaining, raising as much 
 clamor over buying and selling a few shares as the 
 most important dealer in the big boards could raise 
 over the transfer of as many thousands. 
 
 It was easy to find Bockstein and Eppner, and 
 there could be no mistaking the prosperity of the 
 firm, The indifference of the clerks to my presence, 
 and the evident contempt with which an order for 
 a hundred shares of something was being taken 
 from an apologetic old gentleman were enough to 
 assure me of that. 
 
 Bockstein and Eppner were together, evidently 
 consulting over the business to be done. Bockstein 
 was tall and gray-haired, with a stubby gray beard. 
 Eppner was short and a little stooped, with a blue- 
 black mustache, snapping blue-black eyes, and strong 
 blue-black dots over his face where his beard strug 
 gled vainly against the devastating razor. Both were 
 strongly marked with the shrewd, money-getting 
 visage. I set forth my business. 
 
 "You wand to gif a larch order?" said Bockstein, 
 looking over my memoranda. "Do you haf refer 
 ences?" 
 
 "Yes," echoed Eppner. "References are custom 
 ary, you know." He spoke in a high -keyed voice 
 that had irritating suggestions in it. 
 
 "Is there any reference better than cash?" I 
 asked. 
 
 The partners looked at each other. 
 
8o BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "None," they replied. 
 
 "How much will secure you on the order? * 
 
 They named a heavy margin, and the sum total 
 took my heart into my mouth. How large a balance 
 I could draw against I had not the faintest idea. 
 Possibly this was a trap to throw me into jail as 
 a common swindler attempting to pass worthless 
 checks. But there was no time to hesitate. I drew 
 a check for the amount, signed Henry Wilton s 
 name, and tossed it over to Bockstein. 
 
 "All ridt," said the senior partner. "Zhust talk 
 it ofer vit Misder Eppner. He goes on der floor." 
 
 I knew well enough what was wanted. My finan 
 cial standing was to be tested by the head of the 
 firm, while the junior partner kept me amused. 
 
 Eppner was quick to take my ideas. A few 
 words of explanation, and he understood perfectly 
 what I wanted. 
 
 "You have not bought before?" It was an inter 
 rogation, not an assertion. 
 
 "Oh, yes/ I said carelessly, "but not through 
 you, I believe." 
 
 "No, no, I think not. I should have remembered 
 you." 
 
 I thought this might be a favorable opportunity 
 to glean a little information of what was going on 
 in the market. 
 
 "Are there any good deals in prospect?" I ven 
 tured. 
 
 I could see in the blue-black depths of his eyes 
 
A DAY IN THE MARKET 81 
 
 that an unfavorable opinion he had conceived of my 
 judgment was deepened by this question. There 
 was doubtless in it the flavor of the amateur. 
 
 "We never advise our customers," was the high- 
 keyed reply. 
 
 "Certainly not," I replied. "I don t want advice 
 merely to know what is going on." 
 
 "Excuse me, but I never gossip. It is a rule I 
 make." 
 
 "It might interfere with your opportunities to 
 pick up a good bargain now and then," I suggested, 
 as the blue-black man seemed at a loss for words. 
 
 "We never invest in stocks," was the curt reply. 
 
 "Excellent idea," said I, "for those who know too 
 much or too little." 
 
 Eppner failed to smile, and could think of noth 
 ing to say. I was a little abashed, notwithstanding 
 the tone of haughty indifference I took. I began to 
 feel very young before this machine-like impersona 
 tion of the market. 
 
 Bockstein relieved the embarrassment of the situa 
 tion by coming in out of breath, with a brave pre 
 tense of having been merely consulting a customer 
 in the next room. 
 
 "You haf exblained to Misder Eppner?" he in 
 quired. "Den all is done. Here is a card to der 
 Board Room. If orders you haf to gif, Eppner vill 
 dake dem on der floor. Zhust gif him der check for 
 margin, and all is veil." 
 
 At the end of this harangue I found myself out- 
 
82 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 side the office, with Bockstein s back waddling to 
 ward the private room where the partners were to 
 have their last consultation before going to the 
 Board. 
 
 My check had been honored, then, and Bockstein 
 had assured himself of my solvency. In the re 
 bound from anxiety, I swelled with the pride of a 
 Jcapitalist on Doddridge Knapp s money. 
 
 In the Board Room of the big Exchange the up 
 roar was something astonishing. The confusion 
 outside had given me a suggestion that the business 
 of buying and selling stocks was carried on in a 
 somewhat less conventional manner than the trade 
 in groceries. But it had not quite prepared me for 
 the scene in the Exchange. 
 
 The floor was filled with a crowd of lunatics, 
 howling, shaking fists, and pushing and scrambling 
 from one place to another with the frenzy of a band 
 of red men practising the scalp dance by the bright 
 glow of the white man s fire-water. A confused 
 roar rose from the mob, and whenever it showed 
 signs of flagging a louder cry from some quarter 
 would renew its strength, and a blast of shouts and 
 screams, a rush of struggling men toward the one 
 who had uttered the cry, and a waving of fists, arms, 
 and hats, suggested visions of lynching and sud 
 den death. 
 
 After a little I was able to discover a method in 
 the outbreaks of apparent lunacy, and found that the 
 shouts and yells and screams, the shaking of fists, 
 
A DAY IN THE MARKET 83 
 
 and the waving of arms were merely a more or less 
 energetic method of bidding for stocks; that the 
 ringing of gongs and the bellow of the big man who 
 smiled on the bear-garden from the high desk were 
 merely the audible signs that another stock was be 
 ing called; and that the brazen-voiced reading of 
 a roll was merely the official announcement of the 
 record of bargains and sales that had been going 
 on before me. 
 
 It was my good fortune to make out so much be 
 fore the purchase of the stocks on my order list was 
 completed. The crisis was at hand in which I must 
 have my wits about me, and be ready to act for my 
 self. 
 
 Eppner rushed up and reported the bargains 
 made, handing me a slip with the figures he had 
 paid for the stocks. He was no longer the impas 
 sive engine of business that he had appeared in the 
 back room of his office. He was now the embodi 
 ment of the riot I had been observing. His blue- 
 black hair was rumpled and on end. His blue-black, 
 eyes flashed with animation. The blue-black dots 
 that showed where his beard would be if he had 
 let it were almost overwhelmed by the glow that 
 excitement threw r into his sallow cheeks. 
 
 "Any more orders?" he gasped. He was trem 
 bling with excitement and suppressed eagerness 
 for the fray. 
 
 "Yes," I shouted above the roar about me. "I 
 want to buy Omega." 
 
84 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 He gave a look that might have been a warning, 
 if I could have read it; but it was gone with a 
 shrug as though he would say, "Well, it s no busi 
 ness of mine." 
 
 "How much ?" he asked. "Wait !" 
 
 He started away at a scream from the front, but 
 returned in a moment. He had bought or sold 
 something, but I had not the least idea what it 
 was, or which he had done. 
 
 "It s coming !" he yelled in my ear. 
 
 The gong rang. There was a confused cry from 
 the man at the big desk. And pandemonium let 
 loose. 
 
 I had thought the riot that had gone before as 
 near the climax of noise as it was possible to get. 
 I was mistaken. The roar that followed the call was 
 to the noise that had gone before as is the hurricane 
 to the zephyr. There was a succession of yells, 
 hoots, cries and bellows; men rushed wildly at each 
 other, swung in a mad dance, jumped up and down; 
 and the floor became a frantic sea of fists, arms, hats, 
 heads, and all things movable. 
 
 "Omega opens at sixty-five," shouted Eppner. 
 
 "Bid sixty," I shouted in reply, "but get all you 
 can, even if you have to pay sixty-five." 
 
 Eppner gave a bellow, and skated into a group 
 of fat men, gesticulating violently. The roar in 
 creased, if such a thing were possible. 
 
 In a minute Eppner was back, perspiring, and I 
 fancied a trifle worried. 
 
A DAY IN THE MARKET 85 
 
 "They re dropping it on me/ he gasped in my ear. 
 "Five hundred at sixty-two and one thousand at 
 sixty. Small lots coming fast and big ones on the 
 way." 
 
 "Good! Bid fifty-five, and then fifty, but get 
 them." 
 
 With a roar he rushed into the midst of a whirl 
 ing throng. I saw twenty brokers about him, shout 
 ing and threatening. One in his eagerness jumped 
 upon the shoulders of a fat man in front of him, and 
 shook a paper under his nose. 
 
 I could make out nothing of what was going on, 
 except that the excitement was tremendous. 
 
 Twice Eppner reported to me. The stock was 
 being hammered down stroke by stroke. There was 
 a rush to sell. Fifty-five fifty-three fifty, came 
 the price then by leaps to forty-five and forty. It 
 was a panic. At last the gong sounded, and the 
 scene was over. Men staggered from the Exchange, 
 white as death, some cursing, some angry and red, 
 some despairing, some elate. I could see that ten 
 had lost for one who had gained. 
 
 Eppner reported at the end of the call. He had 
 bought for me twelve thousand five hundred shades, 
 over ten thousand of them below fifty. The total 
 was frightful. There was half a million dollars to 
 pay when the time for settlement came. It was folly 
 to suppose that my credit at the Nevada was of this 
 size. But I put a bold face on it, gave a check for 
 the figure that Eppner named, and rose. 
 
86 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "Any more orders?" he asked. 
 
 "Not till afternoon." 
 
 As I passed into the street I was astonished at the 
 swift transformation that had come over it. The 
 block about the Exchange was crowded with a toss 
 ing throng, hundreds upon hundreds pushing to 
 ward its fateful doors. But where cheerfulness and 
 hope had ruled, fear and gloom now vibrated in elec 
 tric waves before me. The faces turned to the piti 
 less, polished granite front of the great gambling- 
 hall were white and drawn, and on them sat Ruin 
 and Despair. The men were for the most part silent, 
 with here and there one cursing; the women, who 
 were there by scores, wept and mourned ; and from 
 the multitudes rose that peculiar whisper of crowds 
 that tells of apprehension of things worse to come. 
 And this, I must believe, was the work of Doddridgc 
 Knapp. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 A TANGLE OF SCHEMES 
 
 Doddridge Knapp was seated calmly in my of 
 fice when I opened the door. There was a grim 
 smile about the firm jaws, and a satisfied glitter in 
 the keen eyes. The Wolf had found his prey, and 
 the dismay of the sheep at the sight of his fangs 
 gave him satisfaction instead of distress. 
 
 The King of the Street honored me with a royal 
 nod. 
 
 "There seems to have been a little surprise for 
 somebody on the Board this morning," he sug 
 gested. 
 
 "I heard something about it on the street/ I ad 
 mitted. 
 
 "It was a good plan and worked well. Let me see 
 your memoranda of purchases." 
 
 I gave him my slips. 
 
 He looked over them with growing perplexity in 
 his face. 
 
 "Here s twelve thousand five hundred shares of 
 Omega." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "You paid too much for that first lot." He was 
 still poring over the list. 
 
88 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "It s easier to see that now than then/ I sug 
 gested dryly. 
 
 "Humph! yes. But there s something wrong 
 here." He was comparing my list with another in 
 his hand. 
 
 "There!" I thought; "my confounded ignorance 
 has made a mess of it." But I spoke with all the 
 confidence I could assume: "What s the matter, 
 now?" 
 
 "Eleven thousand and twelve thousand five hun 
 dred make twenty-three thousand five hundred ; and 
 here are sales of Omega this morning of thirty- 
 three thousand eight hundred and thirty." He 
 seemed to be talking more to himself than to me, and 
 to be far from pleased. 
 
 "How s that? I don t understand." I was all in 
 the dark over his musings. 
 
 "I picked up eleven thousand shares in the other 
 Boards this morning, and twelve thousand five hun 
 dred through you, but somebody has taken in the 
 other ten thousand." The King of the Street 
 seemed puzzled and, I thought, a little worried. 
 
 "Well, you got over twenty-three thousand 
 shares," I suggested consolingly. "That s a pretty 
 good morning s work." 
 
 The King of the Street gave me a contemptuous 
 glance. 
 
 "Don t be a fool, Wilton. I sold ten thousand of 
 those shares to myself." 
 
 A new light broke upon me. I was getting les- 
 
A TANGLE OF SCHEMES 89 
 
 sons of one of the many ways in which the market 
 was manipulated. 
 
 "Then you think that somebody else " 
 
 The King of the Street broke in with a grim 
 smile. 
 
 "Never mind what I think. I ve got the contract 
 for doing the thinking for this job, and I reckon I 
 can tend to it." 
 
 The great speculator was silent for a few mo 
 ments. 
 
 "I might as well be frank with you," he said at 
 last. "You ll have to know something, to work in 
 telligently. I must get control of the Omega Com 
 pany, and to do it I ve got to have more stock. I ve 
 been afraid of a combination against me, and I guess 
 I ve struck it. I can t be sure yet, but when those 
 ten thousand shares were gobbled up on a panicky 
 market, I ll bet there s something up." 
 
 "Who is in it?" I asked politely. 
 
 "They ve kept themselves covered," said the King 
 of the Street, "but I ll have them out in the open 
 before the end. And then, my boy, you ll see the 
 fur fly." 
 
 As these words were uttered I could see the yel 
 low-gray goatee rise like bristles, and the fangs of 
 the Wolf shine white under the yellow-gray mus 
 tache. 
 
 "I ve got a few men staked out," he continued 
 slowly, "and I reckon I ll know something about it 
 by this time to-morrow." 
 
90 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 There was the growl of the Wolf in his voice. 
 
 "Now for this afternoon," he continued. "There s 
 got to be some sharp work done. I reckon the fall 
 ing movement is over. We ve got to pay for what 
 we get from now on. I ve got a man looking after 
 the between-Board trading. With the scare that s 
 on in the chipper crowd out there, I look to pick up a 
 thousand shares or so at about forty." 
 
 "Well, what s the program?" I asked cheerfully. 
 
 "Buy," he said briefly. "Take everything that s 
 offered this side of seventy-five." 
 
 "Um there s a half-million wanted already to 
 settle for what I bought this morning." 
 
 The bushy brows drew down, but the King of the 
 Street answered lightly: 
 
 "Your check is good for a million, my boy, as 
 long as it goes to settle for what you re ordered to 
 buy." Then he added grimly : "I don t think you d 
 find it worth much for anything else." 
 
 There was a knock at the door beyond, and he 
 hastily rose. 
 
 "Be here after the two-thirty session," he said. 
 And the Wolf, huge and masterful, disappeared 
 with a stealthy tread, and the door closed softly be 
 hind him. 
 
 A million dollars! My check honored for un 
 limited amounts! Doddridge Knapp trusting me 
 with a great fortune! I was overwhelmed, intox 
 icated, with the consciousness of power. 
 
 Yet this was the man who had brought death to 
 
A TANGLE OF SCHEMES 91 
 
 Henry Wilton, and had twice sought my life in the 
 effort to wrest from me a packet of information I 
 did not have. This was the man whose face had 
 gleamed fierce and hateful in the lantern s flash in 
 the alley. This was the man I had sworn to bring 
 to the gallows for a brutal crime. And now I was 
 his trusted agent, with control, however limited, of 
 millions. 
 
 It was a puzzle too deep for me. I was near com 
 ing to Mother Borton s view that there was some 
 thing uncanny about Doddridge Knapp. Did two 
 spirits animate that body? What w r as the thread 
 that should join all parts of the mystery into one 
 harmonious whole? 
 
 I wondered idly who Doddridge Knapp s visitor 
 might be, but as I could see no way of finding out, 
 and felt no special concern over his identity or pur 
 poses, I rose and left the office. As I stepped into 
 the hall I discovered that somebody had a deeper 
 curiosity than I. A man was stooping to the key 
 hole of Doddridge Knapp s room in the endeavor to 
 see or hear. As he heard the sound of my opening 
 door he started up, and with a bound, was around 
 the turn of the hall and pattering down the stairs. 
 
 In another bound I was after him. I had seen his 
 form for but a second, and his face not at all. But 
 in that second I knew him for Tim Terrill of the 
 snake-eyes and the murderous purpose. 
 
 When I reached the head of the stairs he was no 
 where to be seen, but I heard the patter of his fee*" 
 
92 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 below and plunged down three steps at a time and 
 into Clay street, nearly upsetting a stout gentleman 
 in my haste. The street was busy with people, but 
 no sign of the snake-eyed man greeted me. 
 
 Much disturbed in mind at this apparition of my 
 enemy, I sought in vain for some explanation of his 
 presence. Was he spying on Doddridge Knapp ? 
 Did he not stand on a better footing with his em 
 ployer than this? He was, I must suppose, trusted 
 with the most secret and evil purposes of thatstrange 
 man, and should be able to speak with him on even 
 terms. Yet here he was, doing the work of the 
 merest spy. What wickedness was he planning ? 
 What treachery was he shaping in his designs on 
 the man whose bread he was eating and whose plans 
 of crime he was the chief agent to assist or execute ? 
 
 I must have stood gaping in the street like a 
 countryman at a fair as I revolved these questions 
 in my mind without getting an answer to them, for 
 I was roused by a man bumping into me roughly. 
 
 I suspected that he had done it on purpose, but 
 I begged his pardon and felt for my watch. I could 
 find none of my personal property missing, but I 
 noticed the fellow reeling back toward me, and 
 doubled my fist with something of an intention to 
 commit a breach of the peace if he repeated his trick. 
 I thought better of it, and started by him briskly, 
 when he spoke in a low tone : 
 
 " You d better go to your room, Mr. Wilton." 
 He said something more that I did not catch, and, 
 
A TANGLE OF SCHEMES 93 
 
 reeling on, disappeared in the crowd before I could 
 turn to mark or question him. 
 
 I thought at first that he meant the room I had 
 just left. Then it occurred to me that it was the 
 room Henry had occupied the room in which I 
 had spent my first dreadful night in San Francisco, 
 and had not revisited in the thirty hours since I had 
 left it. 
 
 The advice suited my inclination, and in a few 
 minutes I was entering the dingy building and 
 climbing the worn and creaking stairs. The place 
 lost its air of mystery in the broad sunshine and 
 penetrating daylight, and though its interior was as 
 gloomy as ever, it lacked the haunting suggestions 
 it had borrowed from darkness and the night. 
 
 Slipped under the door I found two notes. One 
 was from Detective Coogan, and read : 
 
 "Inquest this afternoon. Don t want you. Have 
 another story. Do you want the body?" 
 
 The other was in a woman s hand, and the faint 
 perfume of the first note I had received rose from the 
 sheet. It read: 
 
 "I do not understand your silence. The money is 
 ready. What is the matter?" 
 
 The officer s note was easy enough to answer. I 
 found paper, and, assuring Detective Coogan of my 
 gratitude at escaping the inquest, I asked him to 
 
94 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 turn the body over to the undertaker to be buried at 
 my order. 
 
 The other note was more perplexing. I could 
 make nothing of it. It was evidently from my un 
 known employer, and her anxiety was plain to see. 
 But I was no nearer to finding her than before, and 
 if I knew how to reach her I knew not what to say. 
 As I was contemplating this state of affairs with 
 some dejection, and sealing my melancholy note to 
 Detective Coogan, there was a quick step in the hall 
 and a rap at the panel. It was a single person, so 
 I had no hesitation in opening the door, but it gave 
 me a passing satisfaction to have my hand on the 
 revolver in my pocket as I turned the knob. 
 
 It was a boy, who thrust a letter into my hand. 
 
 " Yer name Wilton ?" he inquired, still holding on 
 to the envelope. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "That s yourn, then." And he was prepared to 
 make a bolt. 
 
 "Hold on," I said. "Maybe there s an answer." 
 
 "No, there ain t. The bloke as gave it to me said 
 there weren t." 
 
 "Well, here s something I want you to deliver," 
 said I, taking up my note to Detective Coogan. 
 "Do you know where the City Hall is ?" 
 
 "Does I know what are yer givin us ?" said the 
 boy with infinite scorn in his voice. 
 
 "A quarter," I returned with a laugh, tossing him 
 the coin. "Wait a minute." 
 
A TANGLE OF SCHEMES 95 
 
 "Yer ain t bad stuff," said the boy with a grin. 
 I tore open the envelope and read on the sheet that 
 came from it : 
 
 "Sell everything you bought never mind the 
 price. Other orders off. D. K." 
 
 I gasped with amazement. Had Doddridge 
 Knapp gone mad? To sell twelve thousand five 
 hundred shares of Omega was sure to smash the 
 market, and the half-million dollars that had been 
 put into them would probably shrink by two hun 
 dred thousand or more if the order was carried out. 
 
 I read the note again. 
 
 Then a suspicion large enough to overshadow the 
 universe grew up in my brain. I recalled that Dodd 
 ridge Knapp had given me a cipher with which he 
 would communicate with me, and I believed, more 
 over, that he had no idea where I might be at the 
 present moment. 
 
 "It s all right, sonny," I said. "Trot along." 
 
 "Where s yer letter?" asked the boy, loyally , 
 anxious to earn his quarter. 
 
 "It won t have to go now," I said coolly. I be 
 lieved that the boy meant no harm to me, but I was 
 not taking any risks. 
 
 The boy sauntered down the hall, singing My 
 Name Is Hildebrandt Montrose, and I was left gaz 
 ing at the letter with a melancholy smile. 
 
 "Well, I must look like a sucker if they think I 
 
96 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 can be taken in by a trick like that," was my mental 
 comment. I charged the scheme up to my snake- 
 eyed friend and had a poorer opinion of his intelli 
 gence than I had hitherto entertained. Yet I was 
 astonished that he should, even with the most hearty 
 wish to bring about my downfall, contrive a plan 
 that would inflict a heavy loss on his employer and 
 possibly ruin him altogether. There was more be 
 neath than I could fathom. My brain refused to 
 work in the maze of contradictions and mysteries, 
 plots and counterplots, in which I was involved. 
 
 I took my way at last toward the market, and, 
 hailing a boy to whom I intrusted my letter to De 
 tective Coogan, walked briskly to Pine Street. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE DEN OF THE WOLF 
 
 The street had changed its appearance in the two 
 or three hours since I had made my way from the 
 Exchange through the pallid, panic-stricken mob. 
 There were still thousands of people between the 
 corner of Montgomery Street and Leidesdorff, and 
 the little alley itself was packed full of shouting, 
 struggling traders. The thousands were broken 
 into hundreds of groups, and men were noisily buy 
 ing and selling, or discussing the chances of the mar 
 ket when the "big Board" should open once more. 
 But there was an air of confidence, almost of 
 buoyancy, in place of the gloom and terror that had 
 lowered over the street at noon. Plainly the panic 
 was over, and men were inspirited by a belief that 
 "stocks were going up." 
 
 I made a few dispositions accordingly. Taking 
 Doddridge Knapp s hint, I engaged another broker 
 as a relief to Eppner, a short fat man, with the bald 
 est head I ever saw, a black beard and a hook-nose, 
 whose remarkable activity and scattering charges 
 had attracted my attention in the morning session. 
 
 Wallbridge was his name, I found, and he proved 
 97 
 
98 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 to be as intelligent as I could wish a merry little 
 man, with a joke for all things, and a flow of words 
 that was almost overwhelming. 
 
 "Omega ? Yes," chuckled the stout little broker, 
 after he had assured himself of my financial stand 
 ing. "But you ought to have bought this morning, 
 if that s what you want. It was hell popping and 
 the roof giving way all at once." The little man 
 had an abundant stock of profanity which he used 
 unconsciously and with such original variations that 
 one almost forgot the blasphemy of it while listen 
 ing to him. "You ought to have been there," he 
 continued, "and watched the boys shell em out!" 
 
 "Yes, I heard you had lively times." 
 
 "Boiling," he said, with coruscating additions in 
 the way of speech and gesture. "If it hadn t been 
 for Decker and some fellow we haven t had a chance 
 to make out yet the bottom of the market would 
 have been resting on the /oof of the lower regions." 
 The little man s remark was slightly more direct and 
 forcible, but this will do for a revised version. 
 
 "Decker!" I exclaimed, pricking up my ears. "I 
 thought he had quit the market." 
 
 As I had never heard of Mr. Decker before that 
 moment this was not exactly the truth, but I thought 
 it would serve me better. 
 
 "Decker out of it!" gasped Wallbridge, his bald 
 head positively glistening at the absurdity of the 
 idea. "He ll be out of it when he s carried out." 
 
 "I meant out of Omega. Is he getting up a deal ?" 
 
THE DEN OF THE WOLF 99 
 
 The little broker looked vexed, as though it 
 crossed his mind that he had said too much. 
 
 "Oh, no. Guess not. Don t think he is/ he said 
 rapidly. "Just wanted to save the market, I guess. 
 If Omega had gone five points lower, there would 
 have been the sickest times in the Street that we ve 
 seen since the Bank of California closed and the 
 shop across the way," pointing his thumb at the 
 Exchange, "had to be shut up. But maybe it wasn t 
 Decker, you know. That s just what w r as rumored 
 on the Street, you know." 
 
 . I suspected that my little broker knew more than 
 he was willing to tell, but I forbore to press him 
 further; and giving him the order to buy all the 
 Omega stock he could pick up under fifty, I made 
 my way to Eppner. 
 
 The blue-black eyes of that impassive agent 
 snapped with a glow of interest when I gave him 
 my order to sell the other purchases of the morning 
 and buy Omega, but faded into a dull stare when I 
 lingered for conversation. 
 
 I was not to be abashed. 
 
 "I wonder who was picking up Omega this morn 
 ing?" I said. 
 
 "Oh, some of the shorts getting ready to fill con 
 tracts," he replied in his dry, uninterested tones. 
 
 "I heard that Decker was in the market for the 
 stock," I said. 
 
 The blue-black eyes gave a flash of genuine sur 
 prise. 
 
ioo BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "Decker!" he exclaimed. Then his eyes fell, and 
 he paused a moment before replying in his high in 
 flexible voice. "He might be." 
 
 "Is he after Ornega, or is he just bracing up the 
 market?" 
 
 "Excust me," said Eppner with the cold reflec 
 tion of an apologetic tone, "but we never advise 
 customers. Are you walking over to the Ex 
 change?" 
 
 In the Exchange all was excitement, and the first 
 call brought a roar of struggling brokers. I could 
 make nothing of the clamor, but my nearest neigh 
 bor shouted in my ear : 
 
 "A strong market !" 
 
 "It looks that way," I shouted back. It certainly 
 was strong in noise. 
 
 I made out at last that prices \vere being held to 
 the figures of the morning s session, and in some 
 cases were forced above them. 
 
 The excitement grew as the call approached 
 Omega. There was an electric tension in the air 
 that told of the anxious hopes and fears that cen 
 tered in the coming struggle. The stock was called 
 at last, and I looked for a roar that would shake the 
 building and a scene of riot on the floor that would 
 surpass anything I had witnessed yet. 
 
 It failed to come. There was almost a pause in 
 the proceedings. 
 
 I caught a glimpse of Doddridge Knapp across 
 the room, looking on with a grim smile on the wolf 
 
THEDENOFTHEWOLF 101 
 
 jaws and an apparently impassive interest in the 
 scene. I marveled at his coolness when his fortune, 
 perhaps, turned on the events of the next five min 
 utes. He gave no sign, nor once looked in my direc 
 tion. 
 
 The clamor on the floor began and swelled in 
 volume, and a breath of visible relief passed over 
 the anxious assembly. 
 
 Wallbridge and Eppner made a dive at once for a 
 yelling broker, and a cold chill ran down my back. 
 I saw then that I had set my brokers bidding against 
 each other for the same stock. 
 
 "Great Mammon!" I thought. "If Doddridge 
 Knapp ever finds it out, what a circus there will be !" 
 
 "She s going up !" said my neighbor with a shout 
 of joy. He owned none of the stock, but like the 
 rest of the populace he was a bull on principle. 
 
 I nodded with a dubious attempt to imitate his 
 signs of satisfaction. 
 
 Forty-five forty-seven fifty-five it was going 
 up by leaps. I blessed the forethought that had sug 
 gested to me to put a limit on Wallbridge and stop 
 the competition between my agents at fifty. The 
 contest grew warmer. I could follow with difficulty 
 the course of the proceedings, but I knew that 
 Omega was bounding upward. 
 
 The call closed amid animation; but the excite 
 ment was nothing compared to the scene that had 
 followed the fall in the morning. Omega stood at 
 eighty asked, and seventy-eight bid, and the ship of 
 
102 , BLINDFOLDED 
 
 the stock gamblers was again sailing on an even 
 keel. Some hundreds had been washed overboard, 
 but there were thousands left, and nobody foresaw 
 the day when the market would take the fashion of 
 a storm-swept hulk, with only a chance survivor 
 clinging here and there to the wreckage and ex 
 changing tales of the magnificence that once existed. 
 
 The session was over at last, and Wallbridge and 
 Eppner handed me their memoranda of purchases. 
 
 "You couldn t pick Omega off the bushes this 
 afternoon, Mr. Wilton," said Wallbridge, wiping 
 his bald head vigorously. "There s fools at all times, 
 and some of em were here and ready to drop what 
 they had ; but not many. I gathered in six hundred 
 for you, but I had to fight for it." 
 
 I thanked the merry broker, and gave him a check 
 for his balance. 
 
 Eppner had done some better with a wider mar 
 gin, but all told I had added but three thousand one 
 hundred shares to my list. I wondered how much 
 of this had been sold to me by my employer. Plain 
 ly, if Doddridge Knapp was needing Omega stock he 
 would have to pay for it. 
 
 There was no one to be seen as I reached Room 
 15. The connecting door was closed and locked, 
 and no sound came from behind it. I turned to ar 
 range the books, to keep from a bad habit of think 
 ing over the inexplicable. But there was nothing 
 exciting enough, in the statutes or reports of court 
 decisions or text-books, to cover up the questions 
 
THE DEN OF THE WOLF 103 
 
 agamst which I had been beating in vain ever since 
 I had entered this accursed city. 
 
 An hour passed, and no Doddridge Knapp. It 
 was long past office hours. The sun had disap 
 peared in the bank of fog that was rolling up from 
 the ocean and coming in wisps and streamers over 
 the hills, and the light was fast failing. 
 
 Just as I was considering whether my duty to my 
 employer constrained me to wait longer, I caught 
 sight of an envelope that had been slipped under the 
 door. I wondered, as I hastily opened it and brought 
 its inclosure to the failing light, how it could have 
 got there. It was in cipher, but it yielded to the key 
 with which Doddridge Knapp had provided me. I 
 made it out to be this : 
 
 "Come to my house to-night. Bring your con 
 tracts with you. Knapp." 
 
 I was thrown into some perplexity by this order. 
 For a little I suspected a trap, but on second thought 
 this seemed unlikely. The office furnished as con 
 venient a place for homicidal diversions as he could 
 wish, if these were in his intention, and possibly a 
 visit to Doddridge Knapp in his own house would 
 give me a better clue to his habits and purposes, and 
 a better chance of bringing home to him his awful 
 crime, than a month together on the Street. 
 
 The clocks were pointing past eight when I 
 mounted the steps that led to Doddridge Knapp s 
 
104 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 door. Doddridge Knapp s house fronted upper Pine 
 Street much as Doddridge Knapp himself fronted 
 lower Pine Street. There was a calmly aggressive 
 look about it that was typical of the owner. It de 
 fied the elements with easy strength, as Doddridge 
 Knapp defied the storms of the market. I had the 
 fancy that even if the directory had not given me its 
 position I might have picked it out from its neigh 
 bors by its individuality, its impression of reserve 
 force. 
 
 I had something of trepidation, after all, as I rang 
 the bell, for I was far from being sure that Dodd 
 ridge Knapp was above carrying out his desperate 
 purposes in his own house, and I wondered whether 
 I should ever come out again, once I was behind 
 those massive doors. I had taken the precaution to 
 find a smaller revolver, "suitable for an evening 
 call," as I assured myself, but it did not look to be 
 much of a protection in case the house held a dozen 
 ruffians of the Terrill brand. However, I must risk 
 it. I gave my name to the servant who opened the 
 door. 
 
 "This way," he said quietly. 
 
 I had hardly time as I passed to note the large 
 hall, the handsome staircase, and the wide parlors 
 that hung rich with drapery, but in darkness. I was 
 led beyond and behind them, and in a moment was 
 ushered into a small, plainly-furnished room ; and at 
 a desk covered with papers sat Doddridge Knapp, 
 the picture of the Wolf in his den. 
 
THE DEN OF THE WOLF 105 
 
 "Sit down, Wilton," said he with grim affability, 
 giving his hand. "You won t mind if an old man 
 doesn t get up." 
 
 I made some conventional reply. 
 
 "Sorry to disappoint you this afternoon, and take 
 up your evening," he said ; "but I found some busi 
 ness that needed more immediate attention. There 
 was a little matter that had to be looked after in 
 person." And the Wolf s fangs showed in a cruel 
 smile, which assured me that the "little matter" had 
 terminated unhappily for the other man. 
 
 I airily professed myself happy to be at his service 
 at any time. 
 
 "Yes, yes," he said; "but let s see your memo 
 randa. Did you do well this afternoon?" 
 
 "No-o," I returned apologetically. "Not so well 
 as I wished." 
 
 He took the papers and looked over them care 
 fully. 
 
 "Thirty-one hundred," he said reflectively. 
 "Those sales were all right. Well, I was afraid you 
 couldn t get above three thousand. I didn t get more 
 than two thousand in the other Boards and on the 
 Street." 
 
 "That was the best I could do," I said modestly. 
 "They average at sixty-five. Omega got away from 
 us this afternoon like a runaway horse." 
 
 "Yes, yes," said the King of the Street, studying 
 his papers with drawn brows. "That s all right. I ll 
 have to wait a bit before going further." 
 
io6 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 I bowed as became one who had no idea of the 
 plans ahead. 
 
 "And now," said Doddridge Knapp, turning u;i 
 me a keen and lowering gaze, "I d like to know 
 what call you have to be spying on me?" 
 
 I opened my eyes wide in wonder. 
 
 "Spying? I don t understand." 
 
 "No?" said he, with something between a growl 
 and a snarl. "Well, maybe you don t understand 
 that, either !" And he tossed me a bit of paper. 
 
 I felt sure that I did not. My ignorance gicr.v 
 into amazement as I read. The slip bore the words : 
 
 "I have bought Crown Diamond. What s the 
 limit? Wilton." 
 
 "I certainly don t understand," I said. "What 
 does it mean ?" 
 
 "The man who wrote it ought to know," growled 
 Doddridge Knapp, with his eyes flashing and the 
 yellow-gray mustache standing out like bristles. 
 ,The fangs of the Wolf were in sight. 
 
 "Well, you ll have to look somewhere else for 
 him," I said firmly. "I never saw the note, and never 
 bought a share of Crown Diamond." 
 
 Doddridge Knapp bent forward, and looked for 
 an instant as though he would leap upon me. His 
 eye was the eye of a wild beast in anger. If I had 
 written that note I should have gone through the 
 window without stopping for explanations. As I 
 
THE DEN OF THE WOLF 107 
 
 had not written it I sat there coolly and looked him 
 in the face with an easy conscience. 
 
 "Well, well," he said at last, relaxing his gaze, "I 
 almost believe you." 
 
 "There s no use going any further, Mr. Knapp, 
 unless you believe me altogether." 
 
 "I see you understand what I was going to say/ 
 he said quietly. "But if you didn t send that, who 
 did?" 
 
 "Well, if I were to make a guess, I should say it 
 was the man who wrote this." 
 
 I tossed him in turn the note I had received in 
 the afternoon, bidding me sell everything. 
 
 The King of the Street looked at it carefully, and 
 his brows drew lower and lower as its import 
 dawned on him. The look of angry perplexity 
 deepened on his face. 
 
 "Where did you get this ?" 
 
 I detailed the circumstances. 
 
 The anger that flashed in his eyes was more elo 
 quent than the outbreak of curses I expected to hear. 
 
 "Urn!" he said at last with a grim smile. "It s 
 lucky, after all, that you had something besides cot 
 ton in that skull of yours, Wilton." 
 
 "A fool might have been caught by it," I said 
 modestly. 
 
 "There looks to be trouble ahead," he said, 
 "There s a rascally gang in the market these days." 
 And the King of the Street sighed over the dishon 
 esty that had corrupted the stock gamblers trade. 
 
io8 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 I smiled inwardly, but signified my agreement 
 with my employer. 
 
 "Well, who wrote them?" he asked almost 
 fiercely. "They seem to come from the same hand." 
 
 "Maybe you d better ask that fellow who had his 
 jye at your keyhole when I left the office this noon." 
 
 "Who was that?" The Wolf gave a startled look. 
 "Why didn t you tell me?" 
 
 "He was a well-made, quick, lithe fellow, with an 
 eye that reminded me of a snake. I gave chase to 
 him, but couldn t overhaul him. He squirmed away 
 in the crowd, I guess." 
 
 The last part of my tale was unheard. At the de 
 scription of the snake-eyed man, Doddridge Knapp 
 sank back in his chair, the flash of anger died out 
 of his eyes, and his mind was far away. 
 
 Was it terror, or anxiety, or wonder, that swept 
 in shadow across his face? The mask that never 
 gave up a thought or purpose before the changing 
 fortunes of the market was not likely to fail its 
 owner here. I could make nothing out of the page 
 before me, except that the vision of Terrill had 
 startled him. 
 
 "Why didn t you tell me?" he said at last, in a 
 steady voice. 
 
 "I didn t suppose it was worth coming back for, 
 after I got into the street. And, besides, you were 
 busy." 
 
 "Yes, yes, you were right : you are not to come 
 of course, of course/ 
 
THE DEN OF THE WOLF 109 
 
 The King of the Street looked at me curiously, 
 and then said smoothly : 
 
 "But this isn t business." And he plunged into 
 the papers once more. "There were over nine thou 
 sand shares sold this afternoon, and I got only five 
 thousand of them." 
 
 "I suppose Decker picked the others up," I said. 
 
 The King of the Street did me the honor to look 
 at me in amazement. 
 
 "Decker!" he roared. "How did you" Then 
 he paused and his voice dropped to its ordinary tone. 
 "I reckon you re right. What gave you the idea?" 
 
 I frankly detailed my conversation with Wall- 
 bridge. As I went on, I fancied that the bushy brows 
 drew down and a little anxiety showed beneath 
 them. 
 
 I had hardly finished my account when there was 
 a knock at the door, and the servant appeared. 
 
 "Mrs. Knapp s compliments, and she would like 
 to see Mr. Wilton when you are done," he said. 
 
 I could with difficulty repress an exclamation, and 
 my heart climbed into my throat. I was ready to 
 face the Wolf in his den, but here was a different 
 matter. I recalled that Mrs. Knapp was a more in 
 timate acquaintance of Henry Wilton s than Dodd- 
 ridge Knapp had been, and I saw Niagara ahead of 
 my skiff. 
 
 "Yes, yes; quite likely," said my employer, re 
 ferring to my story of Wallbridge. "I heard some 
 thing of the kind from my men. I ll know to-mor- 
 
no BLINDFOLDED 
 
 row for certain, I expect. I forgot to tell you that 
 the ladies would want to see you. They have missed 
 you lately." And the Wolf motioned me to the door 
 where the servant waited. 
 
 Here was a predicament. I was missed and 
 wanted and by the ladies. My heart dropped back 
 from my throat, and I felt it throbbing in the lowest 
 recesses of my boot-heels as I rose and followed my 
 guide. 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 LUELLA KNAPP 
 
 As the door swung open, my heart almost failed 
 me. If there had been a chance of escape I should 
 have made the bolt, then and there. 
 
 I had not counted on an interview with the women 
 of Doddridge Knapp s family. I had, to be sure, 
 vaguely foreseen the danger to come from meeting 
 them, but I had been confident that it would be easy 
 to avoid them. And now, in the face of the emer 
 gency, my resources had failed me, and I was walk 
 ing into Mrs. Knapp s reception-room without the 
 glimmer of an idea of how I should find my way out. 
 
 Two women rose to greet me as I entered the 
 room. 
 
 "Good evening," said the elder woman, holding 
 out her hand. "You have neglected us for a long 
 time." There was something of reproach as well as 
 civility in the voice. 
 
 Mrs. Doddridge Knapp, for I had no doubt it 
 was she who greeted me, was large of frame but 
 well-proportioned, and stood erect, vigorous, with 
 an air of active strength rare in one of her years. 
 Her age was, I supposed, near forty-five. Her face 
 
 in 
 
BLINDFOLDED 
 
 was strong and resolute, yet it was with the strength 
 and resolution of a woman, not of a man. Alto 
 gether she looked a fit mate for Doddridge Knapp. 
 
 "Yes," I replied, adjusting my manner nicely to 
 hers, "I have been very busy." 
 
 As she felt the touch of my hand and heard the 
 sound of my voice, I thought I saw a look of sur 
 prise, apprehension and hesitation in her eyes. If it 
 was there it was gone in an instant, and she replied 
 gaily: 
 
 "Busy? How provoking of you to say so! You 
 should never be too busy to take the commands of 
 the ladies." 
 
 "That is why I am here," I interrupted with my 
 best bow. But she continued without noting it : 
 
 "Luella wagered with me that you would make 
 that excuse. I expected something more original." 
 
 "I am very sorry," I said, with a reflection of the 
 bantering air she had assumed. 
 
 "Oh, indeed!" exclaimed the younger woman, to 
 whom my eyes had turned as Mrs. Knapp spoke her 
 name. "How very unkind of you to say so, when I 
 have just won a pair of gloves by it. Good evening 
 to you !" And she held out her hand. 
 
 It was with a strong effort that I kept my self- 
 possession, as for the first time I clasped the hand of 
 Luella Knapp. 
 
 Was it the thrill of her touch, the glance of her 
 eye, or the magnetism of her presence, that set my 
 pulses beating to a new measure, and gave my spirit 
 
LUELLA KNAPP 113 
 
 a breath from a new world ? Whatever the cause, as 
 I looked into the clear-cut face and the frank gray 
 eyes of the woman before me, I was swept by a flood 
 of emotion that was near overpowering my self- 
 control. 
 
 Nor was it altogether the emotion of pleasure that 
 was roused within me. As I looked into her eyes, 
 I had the pain of seeing myself in a light that had 
 not as yet come to me. I saw myself not the friend 
 of Henry Wilton, on the high mission of bringing 
 to justice the man who had foully sent him to death. 
 In that flash I saw Giles Dudley hiding under a 
 false name, entering this house to seek for another 
 link in the chain that would drag this girl s father 
 to the gallows and turn her life to bitterness and 
 misery. And in the reflection from the clear depths 
 of the face before me, I saw Imposter and Spy writ 
 ten large on my forehead. 
 
 I mastered the emotion in a moment and took the 
 seat to which she had waved me. 
 
 I was puzzled a little at the tone in which she ad 
 dressed me. There was a suggestion of resentment 
 in her manner that grew on me as we talked. 
 
 Can I describe her? Of what use to try? She was 
 not beautiful, and "pretty" was too petty a word to 
 apply to Luella Knapp. "Fine looking," if said with 
 the proper emphasis, might give some idea of her 
 appearance, for she was tall in figure, with features 
 that were impressive in their attractiveness. Yet her 
 main charm was in the light that her spirit and in- 
 
114 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 telligence threw on her face; and this no one can 
 describe. 
 
 The brightness of her speech did not disappoint 
 the expectation I had thus formed of her. It was a 
 finely-cultivated mind that was revealed to me, and 
 it held a wit rare to woman. I followed her lead in 
 the conversational channel, giving but a guiding 
 oar when it turned toward acquaintances she held 
 in common with Henry Wilton, or events that had 
 interested them together. 
 
 Through it all the idea that Miss Knapp was re 
 garding me with a hidden disapproval was growing 
 on me. I decided that Henry had made some un 
 common blunder on his last visit and that I was suf 
 fering the penalty for it. The admiration I felt for 
 the young woman deepened with every sentence she 
 spoke, and I was ready to do anything to restore 
 the good opinion that Henry might have endan 
 gered, and in lieu of apology exerted myself to the 
 utmost to be agreeable. 
 
 I was unconscious of the flight of time until Mrs. 
 Knapp turned from some other guests and walked 
 toward us. 
 
 "Come, Henry," she said pointedly, "Luella is not 
 to monopolize you all the time. Besides, there s Mr. 
 Inman dying to speak to her." 
 
 I promptly hated Mr. Inman with all my heart 
 and felt not the slightest objection to his demise; 
 but at her gesture of command I rose and accom 
 panied Mrs. Knapp, as a young man with eye-glasses 
 
LUELLA KNAPP 115 
 
 and a smirk came to take my place. I left Luella 
 Knapp, congratulating myself over my cleverness 
 in escaping the pitfalls that lined my way. 
 
 "Now I ve a chance to speak to you at last," said 
 Mrs. Knapp. 
 
 "At your service," I bowed. "I owe you some 
 thing." 
 
 "Indeed?" Mrs. Knapp raised her eyebrows in 
 surprise. 
 
 "For your kind recommendation to Mr. Knapp." 
 
 "My recommendation? You have a little the ad 
 vantage of me." 
 
 I was stricken with painful doubts, and the cold 
 sweat started upon me. Perhaps this was not Mrs. 
 Knapp after all. 
 
 "Oh, perhaps you didn t mean it," I said. 
 
 "Indeed I did, if it was a recommendation. I m 
 afraid it was unconscious, though. Mr. Knapp does 
 not consult me about his business." 
 
 I was; in doubt no longer. It was the injured pride 
 of the wife that spoke in the tone. 
 
 "I m none the less obliged," I said carelessly. "He 
 assured me that he acted on your words." 
 
 "What on earth are you doing for Mr. Knapp?" 
 she asked earnestly, dropping her half-bantering 
 tone. There was a trace of apprehension in her eyes. 
 
 "I m afraid Mr. Knapp wouldn t think your rec 
 ommendations were quite justified if I should tell 
 you. Just get him in a corner and ask him." 
 
 "I suppose it is that dreadful stock market." 
 
ii6 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "Oh, madam, let me say the chicken market. 
 There is a wonderful opportunity just now for a 
 corner in fowls." 
 
 "There are a good many to be plucked in the 
 market that Mr. Knapp will look after," she said 
 with a smile. But there was something of a worried 
 look behind it. "Oh, you know, Henry, that I can t 
 bear the market. I have seen too much of the misery 
 that has come from it. It can eat up a fortune in an 
 hour. A dear friend saw her home, the house over 
 her head, all she possessed, go in a breath on a turn 
 of the cards in that dreadful place. And her hus 
 band left her to face it with two little children. The 
 coward escaped it with a bullet through his head, 
 after he had brought ruin on his home and family." 
 
 She shuddered as she looked about her, as though 
 in fancy she saw herself turned from the palace into 
 the street. 
 
 "Mr. Knapp is not a man to lose," I said. 
 
 "Mr. Knapp is a strong man," she said with a 
 proud straightening of her figure. "But the whirl 
 pool can suck down the strongest swimmer." 
 
 "But I suspect Mr. Knapp makes whirlpools in 
 stead of swimming into them," I said meaningly. 
 
 "Ah, Henry," she said sadly, "how often have I 
 told you that the best plan may come to ruin in the 
 market? It may not take much to start a boulder 
 rolling down the mountain-side, but who is to tell 
 it to stop when once it is set going?" 
 
 "I think," said I, smiling, "that Mr. Knapp would 
 
LUELLAKNAPP 117 
 
 ride the boulder and find himself in a gold mine at 
 the end of the journey." 
 
 "Perhaps. But you re not telling me what Mr. 
 Knapp is doing." 
 
 "He can tell you much better than I." 
 
 "No doubt," she said with a trace of sarcasm in 
 her voice. 
 
 "And here he comes to do it, I expect," I said, as 
 the tall figure of the King of the Street appeared in 
 the doorway opposite. 
 
 "I m afraid 1 shall have to depend on the news 
 papers," she said. "Mr. Knapp is as much afraid of 
 a woman s tongue as you are. Oh," she continued 
 after a moment s pause, "I was going to make you 
 give an account of yourself; but since you will tell 
 nothing I must introduce you to my cousin, Mrs. 
 Bowser." And she led me, unresisting, to a short, 
 sharp- featured woman of sixty or thereabouts, who 
 rustled her silks, and in a high, thin voice professed 
 herself charmed to see me. 
 
 She might have claimed and held the record as 
 the champion of the conversational ring. I had 
 never met her equal before, nor have I met one to 
 surpass her since. 
 
 Had I been long in the city? She had been here 
 only a week. Came from down Maine way. This 
 was a dear, dreadful city with such nice people and 
 such dreadful winds, wasn t it? And then she gave 
 me a catalogue of the places she had visited, and the 
 attractions of San Francisco, with a wealth of de- 
 
ii8 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 tail and a poverty of interest that was little less than 
 marvelous. 
 
 Fortunately she required nothing but an occa 
 sional murmur of assent in the way of answer from 
 me. 
 
 I looked across the room to the corner where 
 ,Luella was entertaining the insignificant Inman. 
 How vivacious and intelligent she appeared! Her 
 face and figure grew on me in attractiveness, and 
 I felt that I was being very badly used. As I came 
 to this point I was roused by the sound of two low 
 voices that just behind me were plainly audible un 
 der the shrill treble of Mrs. Bowser. They were 
 women with their heads close in gossip. 
 
 "Shocking, isn t it?" said one. 
 
 "Dreadful!" said the other. "It gives me the 
 creeps to think of it." 
 
 "Why don t they lock him up? Such a creature 
 shouldn t be allowed to go at large." 
 
 "Oh, you see, maybe they can t be sure about it. 
 But I ve heard it s a case of family pride." 
 
 I was recalled from this dialogue by Mrs. Bow 
 ser s fan on my arm, and her shrill voice in my ear 
 with, "What is your idea about it, Mr. Wilton ?" 
 
 "I think you are perfectly right," I said heartily, 
 as she paused for an answer. 
 
 "Then I ll arrange it with the others at once," she 
 said. 
 
 This was a bucket of ice-water on me. I had 
 not the first idea to what I had committed myself. 
 
LUELLA KNAPP 119 
 
 "No, don t," I said. "Wait till we have tJrne to 
 discuss it again." 
 
 "Oh, we can decide on the time whenever you 
 like. Will some night week after next suit you?" 
 
 I had to throw myself on the mercy of the enemy. 
 
 "I m afraid I m getting rather absent-minded," I 
 said humbly. "I was looking at Miss Knapp and 
 lost the thread of the discourse for a minute." 
 
 "That s what I was talking about," she said 
 sharply, "about taking her and the rest of us 
 through Chinatown." 
 
 "Yes, yes. I remember," I said unblushingly. 
 "If I can get away from business, I m at your ser 
 vice at any time." 
 
 Then Mrs. Bowser wandered on with the arrange 
 ments she would find necessary to make, and I heard 
 one of the low voices behind me : 
 
 "Now this is a profound secret, you know. I 
 wouldn t have them know for the world that any one 
 suspects. I just heard it this week, myself." 
 
 "Oh, I wouldn t dare breathe it to a soul," said 
 the other. "But I m sure I shan t sleep a wink to 
 night," And they moved away. 
 
 I interrupted Mrs. Bowser to explain that I must 
 speak to Mrs. Knapp, and made my escape as some 
 one stopped to pass a word with her. 
 
 "Oh, must you go, Henry?" said Mrs. Knapp. 
 "Well, you must come again soon. We miss you 
 when you stay away. Don t let Mr. Knapp keep you 
 too closely." 
 
120 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 I professed myself happy to come whenever I 
 could find the time, and looked about for Luella. 
 She was nowhere to be seen. I left the room a little 
 disappointed, but with a swelling of pride that I had 
 passed the dreaded ordeal and had been accepted as 
 Henry Wilton in the house in which I had most 
 feared to meet disaster. My opinion of my own 
 cleverness had risen, in the language of the market, 
 "above par." 
 
 As I passed down the hall, a tall willowy figure 
 stepped from the shadow of the stair. My heart 
 gave a bound of delight. It was Luella Knapp. I 
 should have the pleasure of a leave-taking in private. 
 
 "Oh, Miss Knapp!" I said. "I had despaired of 
 having the chance to bid you good night." And I 
 held out my hand. 
 
 She ignored the hand. I could see from her heav 
 ing bosom and shortened breath that she was labor 
 ing under great agitation. Yet her face gave no 
 evidence of the effort that it cost her to control her 
 self. 
 
 "I was waiting for you," she said in a low voice. 
 
 I started to express my gratification when she in 
 terrupted me. 
 
 "Who are you?" broke from her lips almost 
 fiercely. 
 
 I was completely taken aback, and stared at her 
 in amazement with no word at command. 
 
 "You are not Henry Wilton," she said rapidly. 
 "You have come here with his name and his clothes, 
 
LUELLAKNAPP 121 
 
 and made up to look like him, and you try to use his 
 voice and take his place. Who are you ?" 
 
 There was a depth of scorn and anger and appre 
 hension in that low voice of hers that struck me 
 dumb. 
 
 "Can you not answer?" she demanded, catching 
 her breath with excitement. "You are not Henry 
 Wilton." 
 
 "Well?" I said half-inquiringly. It was not safe 
 to advance or retreat. 
 
 "Well ! well !" She repeated my answer, with 
 indignation and disdain deepening in her voice. "Is 
 that all you have to say for yourself ?" 
 
 "What should I say?" I replied quietly. "You 
 make an assertion. Is there anything more to be 
 said?" 
 
 "Oh, you may laugh at me if you please, because 
 you can hoodwink the others." 
 
 I protested that laughter was the last thing I was 
 thinking of at the moment. 
 
 Then she burst out impetuously : 
 
 "Oh, if I were only a man ! No ; if I were a man 
 I should be hoodwinked like the rest. But you can 
 not deceive me. Who are you ? What are you here 
 for ? What are you trying to do ?" 
 
 She was blazing with wrath. Her tone had raised 
 hardly an interval of the scale, but every word that 
 came in that smooth, low voice was heavy with con 
 tempt and anger. It was the true daughter of the 
 Wolf who stood before me. 
 
122 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "I am afraid, Miss Knapp, you are not well to 
 night," I said soothingly. 
 
 "What have you done with Henry Wilton?" she 
 asked fiercely. "Don t try to speak with his voice. 
 Drop your disguise. You are no actor. You are no 
 more like him than " 
 
 The simile failed her in her wrath. 
 
 "Satyr to Hyperion," I quoted bitterly. "Make it 
 strong, please." 
 
 I had thought myself in a tight place in the row 
 at Borton s, but it was nothing to this encounter. 
 
 "Oh, where is he? What has happened?" she 
 cried. 
 
 "Nothing has happened," I said calmly, determin 
 ing at last to brazen it out. I could not tell her the 
 truth. "My name is Henry Wilton." 
 
 She looked at me in anger a moment, and then a 
 shadow of dread and despair settled over her face. 
 
 I was tempted beyond measure to throw myself 
 on her mercy and tell all. The subtle sympathy that 
 she inspired was softening my resolution. Yet, as I 
 looked into her eyes, her face hardened, and her 
 wrath blazed forth once more. 
 
 "Go!" she said. "I hope I may never see you 
 again !" And she turned and ran swiftly up the stair. 
 I thought I heard a sob, but whether of anger or 
 sorrow I knew not. 
 
 And I went out into the night with a heavier load 
 of depression than I had borne since I entered the 
 city. 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 A DAY OF GRACE 
 
 The wind blew strong and moist and salt from 
 the western ocean as I walked down the steps into 
 the semi-darkness of Pine Street. But it was power 
 less to cool the hot blood that surged into my cheeks 
 in the tumult of emotion that followed my dismissal 
 by Luella Knapp. I was furious at the poor figure 
 I had cut in her sight, at the insults I had been 
 forced to bear without reply, and at the hopelessness 
 of setting myself right. Yet, more than all was I 
 sick at heart at the dreadful task before me. My 
 spirit was bleeding from every stab that this girl 
 had dealt me ; yet I had to confess that her outburst 
 of rage had challenged my admiration even more 
 than her brightness in the hour that had gone be 
 fore. How could I go through with my work ? How 
 could I bear to overwhelm her with the sorrow and 
 disgrace that must crush on her if I proved to the 
 world the awful facts that were burned on my 
 brain ? 
 
 Resolve, shame, despair, fought with each other 
 in the tumult in my mind as I passed between the 
 bronze lions and took my way down the street. 
 
 123 
 
124 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 I was called out of my distractions with a sudden 
 start as though a bucket of cold water had been 
 thrown over me. I had proceeded not twenty feet 
 when I saw two dark forms across the street. They 
 had, it struck me, been waiting for my appearance, 
 for one ran to join the other and both hastened to 
 ward the corner as though to be ready to meet me. 
 
 I could not retreat to the house of the Wolf that 
 loomed forbiddingly behind me. There was nothing 
 to do but to go forward and trust to my good for 
 tune, and I shifted my revolver to the side-pocket of 
 my overcoat as I stepped briskly to the corner. 
 Then I stopped under the lamp-post to reconnoiter. 
 
 The two men who had roused my apprehensions 
 did not offer to cross the street, but slackened their 
 pace and strolled slowly along on the other side. I 
 noted that it seemed a long way between street- 
 lamps thereabouts. I could see none between the one 
 under which I was standing and the brow of the hill 
 below. Then it occurred to me that this circum 
 stance might not be due to the caprice of the street 
 department of the city government, but to the 
 thoughtfulness of the gentlemen who were paying 
 such close attention to my affairs. I decided that 
 there were better ways to get down town than were 
 offered by Pine Street. 
 
 To the south the cross-street stretched to Market 
 with an unbroken array of lights, and as my unwary 
 watchers had disappeared in the darkness, I hast 
 ened down the incline with so little regard for 
 
A DAY OF GRACE 125 
 
 dignity that I found myself running for a Sutter 
 Street car and caught it, too. As I swung on to 
 the platform I looked back; but I saw no sign of 
 bkulking figures before the car swept past the corner 
 and blotted the street from sight. 
 
 The incident gave me a distaste for the idea of 
 going back to Henry Wilton s room at this time of 
 the night. So as Montgomery Street was reached 
 I stepped into the Lick House, where I felt reason 
 ably sure that I might get at least one night s sleep, 
 free from the haunting fear of the assassin. 
 
 But, once more safe, the charms of Luella Knapp 
 again claimed the major part of my thoughts, and 
 when I went to sleep it was with her scornful words 
 ringing in my ears. I awoke in the darkness per 
 haps it was in but a few minutes with the confused 
 dream that Luella Knapp was seized in the grasp of 
 the snake-eyed Terrill, and I was struggling to come 
 to her assistance and seize him by his hateful throat. 
 But, becoming calm from this exciting vision, I 
 slept soundly until the morning sun peeped into the 
 room with the cheerful announcement that a new 
 day was born. 
 
 In the fresh morning air and the bright morning 
 light, I felt that I might have been unduly sus 
 picious and had fled from harmless citizens; and I 
 was ashamed that I had lacked courage to return to 
 Henry s room as I made my way thither for a 
 change of clothes. I thought better of my decision, 
 however, as I stepped within the gloomy walls of 
 
126 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 the house of mystery, and my footfalls echoed 
 through the chilling silence of the halls. And I lost 
 all regret over my night s lack of courage when I 
 reached my door. It was swung an inch ajar, and 
 as I approached I thought I saw it move. 
 
 "I m certain I locked it," was my inward com- 
 fment. 
 
 I stopped short and hunted my revolver from my 
 overcoat pocket. I was nervous for a moment, and 
 angry at the inattention that might have cost me my 
 life. 
 
 "Who s there?" I demanded. 
 
 No reply. 
 
 I gave a knock on the door at long reach. 
 
 There was no sound and I gave it a push that sent 
 it open while I prudently kept behind the fortifica 
 tion of the casing. As no developments followed 
 this move, I peeped through the door in cautious in 
 vestigation. The room was ^aite empty, and I 
 walked in. 
 
 The sight that met my eyes was astonishing. 
 Clothes, books, papers, were scattered over the floor 
 and bed and chairs. The carpet had been partly 
 ripped up, the mattress torn apart, the closet cleared 
 out, and every corner of the room had been ran 
 sacked. 
 
 It was clear to my eye that this was no ordinary 
 case of robbery. The search, it was evident, was not 
 for money and jewelry alone, and bulkier property 
 had been despised. The men who had torn the place 
 
A DAY OF GRACE 127 
 
 to pieces must, I surmised, have been after papers 
 of some kind. 
 
 I came at once to the conclusion that I had been 
 favored by a visit from my friends, the enemy. As 
 they had failed to find me in, they had looked for 
 some written memoranda of the object of their 
 search. 
 
 I knew well that they had found nothing among 
 the clothing or papers that Henry had left behind. I 
 had searched through these myself, and the sole 
 document that could bear on the mystery was at that 
 moment fast in my inside pocket. I was inclined to 
 scout the idea that Henry Wilton had hidden any 
 thing under the carpet, or in the mattress, or in any 
 secret place. The threads of the mystery were car 
 ried in his head, and the correspondence, if there 
 had been any, was destroyed. 
 
 As I was engaged in putting the room to rights, 
 the door swung back, and I jumped to my feet to 
 face a man who stood on the threshold. 
 
 "Hello!" he cried. "House-cleaning again?" 
 
 It was Dicky Nahl, and he paused with a smile on 
 his face. 
 
 "Ah, Dicky !" I said with an effort to keep out of 
 my face and voice the suspicions I had gained from 
 the incidents of the visit to the Borton place. "En 
 tirely unpremeditated, I assure you." 
 
 "Well, you re making a thorough job of it," he 
 said with a laugh. 
 
 "Fact is," said I ruefully, "I ve been entertaining 
 
128 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 angels of the black kind unawares. I was from 
 home last night, and I find that somebody has made 
 himself free with my property while I was away." 
 
 "Whew!" whistled Dicky. "Guess they were 
 after you." 
 
 I gave Dicky a sidelong glance in a vain effort to 
 catch more of his meaning than was conveyed by 
 his words. 
 
 "Shouldn t be surprised," I replied dryly, picking 
 up an armful of books. "I d expect them to be look 
 ing for me in the book-shelf, or inside the mattress- 
 cover, or under the carpet." 
 
 Dicky laughed joyously. 
 
 "Well, they did rather turn things upside down," 
 he chuckled. "Did they get anything?" And he fell 
 to helping me zealously. 
 
 "Not that I can find out," I replied. "Nothing of 
 value, anyhow." 
 
 "Not any papers, or anything of that sort?" asked 
 Dicky anxiously. 
 
 "Dicky, my boy," said I ; "there are two kinds of 
 fools. The other is the man who writes his business 
 on a sheet of paper and forgets to burn it." 
 
 Dicky grinned merrily. 
 
 "Gad, you re getting a turn for epigram ! You ll 
 be writing for the Argonaut, first we know." 
 
 "Well, you ll allow me a shade of common sense, 
 won t you ?" 
 
 "I don t know," said Dicky, considering the prop 
 osition doubtfully. "It might have been awkward if 
 
A DAY OF GRACE 129 
 
 you had left anything lying about. But if you had 
 real good sense you d have had the guards here. 
 What are you paying them for, anyhow ?" 
 
 I saw difficulties in the way of explaining to 
 Dicky why I had not ordered the guards on duty. 
 
 "Oh, by the way," said Dicky suddenly, before a 
 suitable reply had come to me; "how about the 
 scads spondulicks you know? Yesterday was 
 pay-day, but you didn t show up." 
 
 I don t know whether my jaw dropped or not. 
 My spirits certainly did. 
 
 "By Jove, Dicky!" I exclaimed, catching my 
 breath. "It slipped my mind, clean. I haven t got 
 at our ahem banker, either." 
 
 I saw now what that mysterious money was for 
 or a part of it, at all events. What I did not see was 
 how I was to get it, and how to pay it to my men. 
 
 "That s rough," said Dicky sympathetically. "I m 
 dead broke." 
 
 It would appear then that Dicky looked to me for 
 pay, whether or not he felt bound to me in service. 
 
 "There s one thing I d like explained before a 
 settlement," said I grimly, as I straightened out the 
 carpet; "and that is the little performance for my 
 benefit the other night." 
 
 Dicky cocked his head on one side, and gave me 
 an uneasy glance. 
 
 "Explanation?" he said in affected surprise. 
 
 "Yes," said I sternly, "It looked like a plant. I 
 was within one of getting a knife in me." 
 
130 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "What became of you?" inquired Dicky. "We 
 looked around for you for an hour, and were afraid 
 you had been carried off." 
 
 "That s all right, Dicky," I said. "I know how I 
 got out. What I want to know is how I got in 
 taken in." 
 
 "I don t know," said Dicky anxiously. "I was 
 regularly fooled, myself. I thought they were fisher 
 men, all right enough, and I never thought that Ter- 
 rill had the nerve to come in there. I was fooled by 
 his disguise, and he gave the word, and I thought 
 sure that Richmond had sent him." Dicky had 
 dropped all banter, and was speaking with the tone 
 of sincerity. 
 
 "Well, it s all right now, but I don t want any 
 more slips of that sort. Who was hurt ?" 
 
 "Trent got a bad cut in the side. One of the Ter- 
 rill gang was shot. I heard it was only through the 
 arm or leg, I forget which." 
 
 I was consumed with the desire to ask what had 
 become of Borton s, but I suspected that I was sup 
 posed to know, and prudently kept the question to 
 myself. 
 
 "Well, come along," said I. "The room will do 
 well enough now. Oh, here s a ten, and I ll let you 
 know as soon as I get the rest. Where can I find 
 you?" 
 
 "At the old place," said Dicky; "three twenty- 
 
 six." 
 
 "Clay?" I asked in desperation. 
 
A DAY OF GRACE 131 
 
 Dicky gave me a wondering look as though he 
 suspected my mind was going. 
 
 "No Geary. What s the matter with you?" 
 
 "Oh, to be sure. Geary Street, of course. Well, 
 let me know if anything turns up. Keep a close 
 watch on things." 1 
 
 Dicky looked at me in some apparent perplexity 
 as I walked up the stair to my Clay Street office, but 
 gave only some laughing answer as he turned back. 
 
 But I \vas in far from a laughing humor myself. 
 The problem of paying the men raised fresh pros 
 pects of trouble, and I reflected grimly that if the 
 money was not found I might be in more danger 
 from my unpaid mercenaries than from the enemy. 
 
 Ten o clock passed, and eleven, with no sign from 
 Doddridge Knapp, and I wondered if the news I 
 had carried him of the activities of Terrill and of 
 Decker had disarranged his plans. 
 
 I tried the door into Room 16. It was locked, and 
 no sound came to my ears from behind it. 
 
 "I should really like to know," I thought to my 
 self, "whether Mr. Doddridge Knapp has left any 
 papers in his desk that might bear on the Wilton 
 mystery." 
 
 I tried my keys, but none of them fitted the lock. 
 I gave up the attempt indeed, my mind shrank 
 from the idea of going through my employer s pa 
 pers but the desire of getting a key that would 
 open the door was planted in my brain. 
 
 Twelve o clock came. No Doddridge Knapp had 
 
132 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 appeared, and I sauntered down to the Exchange to 
 pick up any items of news. It behooved me to be 
 looking out for Doddridge Knapp s movements. 
 If he had got another agent to carry out his schemes, 
 I should have to prepare my lines for attack from 
 another direction. 
 
 Wallbridge was just coming rapidly out of the 
 Exchange. 
 
 "No," said the little man, mopping the perspira 
 tion from his shining head, "quiet as lambs to-day. 
 Their own mothers wouldn t have known the Board 
 from a Sunday-school." 
 I inquired about Omega. 
 
 "Flat as a pancake," said the little man. "Nothing 
 doing." 
 
 "What! Is it down?" I exclaimed with some 
 astonishment. 
 
 "Lord bless you, no !" said Wallbridge, surprised 
 in his turn. "Strong and steady at eighty, but we 
 didn t sell a hundred shares to-day. Well, I m in 
 a rush. Good-by, if you don t want to buy or sell." 
 And he hurried off without waiting for a reply. 
 
 So I was now assured that Doddridge Knapp had 
 jnot displaced me in the Omega deal. It was a recess 
 to prepare another surprise for the Street, and I had 
 time to attend to a neglected duty. 
 
 The undertaker s shop that held the morgue 
 looked hardly less gloomy in the afternoon sun than 
 in the light of breaking day in which I had left it 
 when I parted from Detective Coogan. The office 
 
ADAYOFGRACE 133 
 
 was decorated mournfully to accord with the grief 
 of friends who ordered the coffins, or the feelings 
 of the surviving relatives on settling the bills. 
 
 "I am Henry Wilton," I explained to the man in 
 charge. There was a body left here by Detective 
 Coogan to my order, I believe." 
 
 "Oh, yes," he said: "What do you want done 
 with it?" 
 
 I explained that I wished to arrange to have it 
 deposited in a vault for a time, as I might carry it 
 East. 
 
 "That s easy done," he said ; and he explained the 
 details. "Would you like to see the body?" he con 
 cluded. "We embalmed it on the strength of Coog- 
 an s order." 
 
 I shrank from another look at the battered form. 
 The awfulness of the tragedy came upon me with 
 hardly less force than in the moment when I had 
 first faced the mangled and bleeding body on the 
 slab in the dead-room. Again I saw the scene in 
 the alley; again his last cry for help rang in my 
 ears; again I retraced the dreadful experiences of 
 the night, and stood in the dim horror of the morgue 
 with the questioning voice of the detective echoing 
 beside me; and again did that wolf- face rise out of 
 the lantern-flash over the body of the man whose 
 death it had caused. 
 
 The undertaker was talking, but I knew not what 
 he said. I was shaking with the horror and grief 
 of the situation, and in that moment I renewed my 
 
134 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 vow to have blood for blood and life for life, if law 
 and justice were to be had. 
 
 "We ll take it out any time/ said the undertaker, 
 with a decorous reflection of my grief upon his face. 
 "Would you like to accompany the remains?" 
 
 I decided that I would. 
 
 "Well, there s nothing doing now. We can start 
 as soon as we have sealed the casket." 
 
 "As soon as you can. There s nothing to wait 
 for." 
 
 The ride to the cemetery took me through a part 
 of San Francisco that I had not yet seen. Flying 
 battalions of fog advanced swiftly upon us as we 
 faced the West, and the day grew pale and ghost 
 like. The gray masses were pouring fast over the 
 hills toward which we struggled, and the ranks 
 thickened as we drew near the burial-place. 
 
 I paid little attention to the streets through which 
 we passed. My mind was on the friend whose 
 name I had taken, whose work I was to do. I was 
 back with him in our boyhood days, and lived again 
 for the fleeting minutes the life we had lived in 
 common ; and the resolve grew stronger on me that 
 his fate should be avenged. 
 
 And yet a face came between me and the dead 
 a proud face, with varying moods reflected upon it, 
 now gay, now scornful, now lighted with intelli 
 gence and mirth, now blazing with anger. But it 
 was powerless to shake my resolve. Not even Lu- 
 ella Knapp should stand between me and vengeance. 
 
A DAY OF GRACE 135 
 
 "There s the place," said the undertaker, point 
 ing to the vault. "I ll have it opened directly." 
 
 The scene was in accord with my feelings. The 
 gray day gave a somber air to the trees and flowers 
 that grew about. The white tombstones and oc 
 casional monuments to be seen were sad reminders 
 of mortality. 
 
 Below me stretched the city, half -concealed by 
 the magic drapery of the fog that streamed through 
 it, turning it from a place of wood and stone into 
 a fantastic illusion, heavy with gloom and sorrow. 
 
 It was soon over. The body of Henry Wilton was 
 committed to the vault with the single mourner 
 looking on, and we drove rapidly back in the failing 
 light. 
 
 I had given my address at the undertaker s shop, 
 and the hack stopped in front of my house of mys 
 tery before I knew where we were. Darkness had 
 come upon the place, and the street-lamps were 
 alight and the gas was blazing in the store-windows 
 along the thoroughfares. As I stepped out of the 
 carriage and gazed about me, I recognized the 
 gloomy doorway and its neighborhood that hadf 
 greeted me on my first night in San Francisco. 
 
 As I was paying the fare, a stout figure stepped 
 up to me. 
 
 "Ah, Mr. Wilton, it s you again." 
 
 I turned in surprise. It was the policeman I had 
 met on my first night in San Francisco. 
 
 "Oh, Corson, how are you?" I said heartily, 
 
136 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 recognizing him at last. I felt a sense of relief in 
 the sight of him. The place was not one to quiet 
 my nerves after the errand from which I had just 
 come. 
 
 "All s well, sor, but I ve a bit of paper for ye." 
 And after some hunting he brought it forth. "I was 
 asked to hand this to ye." 
 
 I took it in wonder. Was there something more 
 from Detective Coogan? I tore open the envelope 
 and read on its inclosure: 
 
 "Kum tonite to the house. Shure if youre life is 
 wurth savein. 
 
 "Muther Borton." 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 MOTHER BORTON S ADVICE 
 
 I studied the note carefully, and then turned to 
 Policeman Corson. 
 
 "When did she give you this and where?" 
 
 "A lady?" said Corson with a grin. "Ah, Mr. 
 Wilton, it s too sly she is to give it to me. Twas 
 a boy askin for ye. Do you know him? says he. 
 I do that/ says I. Where is he? says he. I don t 
 know, says I. Has e a room? says he. He has/ 
 says I. Where is it ? says he. What s that to you? 
 says I" 
 
 "Yes, yes," I interrupted. "But where did he get 
 the note?" 
 
 "I was just tellin ye, sor," said the policeman 
 amiably. "He shoves the note at me ag in, an says 
 he, It s important, says he. Go up there, says I. 
 Last room, top floor, right-hand side. Before I 
 comes to the corner up here, he s after me ag in. 
 He s gone, says he. Like enough, says I. When ll 
 he be back? says he. When the cows come home, 
 sonny, says I. Then there ll be the divil to pay/ 
 says he. I pricks up my ears at this. Why? says I. 
 Oh, he ll be killed/ says he, and I ll git the derndest 
 
 137 
 
138 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 lickinY says he. What s up? says I, makin a 
 grab for him. But he ducks an blubbers. Gimme 
 that letter, says I, and you just kite back to the 
 folks that sent you, and tell them what s the matter. 
 I ll give your note to your man if he comes while 
 I m on the beat/ says I. I knows too much to try 
 to git anything more out of him. I says to meself 
 that Mr. Wilton ain t in the safest place in the world, 
 and this kid s folks maybe means him well, and 
 might know some other place to look for him. The 
 kid jaws a bit, an then does as I tells him, an cuts 
 away. That s half an hour ago, an here you are, 
 an here s your letter." 
 
 I hesitated for a little before saying anything. It 
 was with quick suspicion that I wondered why 
 Mother Borton had secured again that gloomy and 
 deserted house for the interview she was planning. 
 That mystery of the night, with its memories of 
 the fight in the bar-room, the escape up the stair, 
 the fearsome moments I had spent locked in the va 
 cant place, came on me with nerve-shaking force. 
 It was more likely to be a trap than a meeting 
 meant for my advantage. There was, indeed, no 
 assurance that the note was written by Mother 
 Borton herself. It might well be the product of the 
 gentlemen who had been lending such variety to an 
 otherwise uninteresting existence. 
 
 All these considerations flashed through my mind 
 in the seconds of hesitation that passed before my 
 reply to Policeman Corson s accourt. 
 
MOTHER BORTON S ADVICE 139 
 
 "That was very kind of you. You didn t know 
 what was in the letter then?" 
 
 "No, sor," replied Corson with a touch of 
 wounded pride. "It s not me as would open another 
 man s letter, unless in the way of me duty." 
 
 "Do you know Mother Borton?" I continued. 
 
 "Know her? know her?" returned Corson in a 
 tone scornful of doubt on such a point. "Do I know 
 the slickest crook in San Francisco? Ah, it s many 
 a story I could tell you, Mr. Wilton, of the way 
 that ould she-divil has slipped through our fingers 
 when we thought our hands were on her throat. 
 And it s many of her brood we have put safe in 
 San Quentin." 
 
 "Yes, I suppose so," said I dryly. "But the 
 woman has done me a service saved my life, I may 
 say and I m willing to forget the bad in her." 
 
 "That s not for me to say, sor; but there s quare 
 things happens, no doubt." 
 
 "This note," I continued, "is written over her 
 name. I don t know whether it came from her, or 
 not; but if she sent it I must see her. It may be 
 a case of life or death for me." 
 
 "An if it didn t come from her?" asked the po 
 liceman shrewdly. 
 
 "Then," said I grimly, "it s likely to be a case of 
 death if I venture alone." 
 
 "I ll tell you what, Mr. Wilton," said Corson 
 after a pause. "If you ll wait a bit, I ll go with you 
 that is, if there isn t somebody else you d like bet- 
 
140 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 ter to have by your side to-night. You don t look to 
 have any of your friends about." 
 
 "Just the thing," I said heartily. "There s no one 
 I d rather have. We ll go down as soon as we can 
 get a bite to eat." 
 
 "I ll have to wait a bit, sor, till my relief comes. 
 He ll be along soon. As for getting a bite, you 
 can t do better than wait till you get to Mother 
 Borton s. It s a rough place, but it s got a name for 
 good cooking." 
 
 I was bewildered. 
 
 "I guess there s not much to be got in the way of 
 eating in the house. There was nothing left in it 
 yesterday morning but the rats." I spoke with con 
 siderable emphasis. 
 
 "That s square, now," he said, looking to see if 
 there was a jest behind the words. "But twas all 
 there when McPherson and I put a club to a drunk 
 as was raising the Ould Nick in the place and 
 smashing the bottles, not six hours ago. When we 
 took him away in the ixpriss wagon the ould woman 
 was rowling out those long black curses in a way 
 that would warm the heart of the foul fiend him 
 self." 
 
 There was some fresh mystery about this. I held 
 my tongue with the reflection that I had better let 
 it straighten itself out than risk a stumble by asking 
 about things I ought to know. 
 
 Corson s relief soon appeared. "It s a nasty 
 night," he said, buttoning up his overcoat closely, 
 
MOTHER BORTON S ADVICE 141 
 
 as Corson gave him a brief report of the situation 
 on the beat. 
 
 "It s good for them as likes it dark," said Corson. 
 
 "It s just such a night as we had when Donaldson 
 was murdered. Do you mind it ?" 
 
 "Do I mind it? Am I likely to forgit it? Well, 
 a pleasant time to you, me boy. Come along, sor. 
 We d better be moving. You won t mind stepping 
 up to the hall with me, will ye, while I report ?" 
 
 "Certainly not," I said with a shiver, half at the 
 grim suggestion of murder and half at the chill of 
 the fog and the cutting wind that blew the cold vapor 
 through to the skin. 
 
 "You ve no overcoat," said Corson. "We ll stop 
 and get one. I ll have mine from the station." 
 
 The silence of the house of mystery was no less 
 threatening now than on the night when Henry Wil 
 ton was walking through the halls on the way to his 
 death. But the stout-hearted policeman by my side 
 gave me confidence, and no sign showed the pres 
 ence of an enemy as I secured Henry s heavy over 
 coat and the large revolver he had given me, and we 
 took our way down the stairs. 
 
 A short visit to the grimy, foul-smelling base 
 ment of the City Hall, where a few policemen 
 looked at me wonderingly, a brisk walk with the 
 cutting wind at our backs and the fog currents 
 hurrying and whirling in eddies toward the bay, 
 and I felt rather than saw that we were in the 
 neighborhood of the scene of my adventures of a 
 
142 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 night that had come so near costing me my life. I 
 could not be certain of my bearings, but I trusted 
 to the unconscious guidance of Corson, with a con 
 fused idea that we were bearing away from the place. 
 Then with relief combined with bewilderment, I 
 saw the lantern sign give forth its promise of the 
 varied entertainment that could be had at Borton s. 
 
 "Here we are," said Corson. 
 
 We pushed open the door and entered. The place 
 had the same appearance as the one to which I had 
 been taken by Dicky Nahl. 
 
 "A fine night, Mother Borton," said Corson 
 cheerily, as he was the first to enter, and then added 
 under his breath, " for the divil s business." 
 
 Mother Borton stared at him with a black look 
 and muttered a curse. 
 
 "Good evening," I hastened to say. "I took the 
 liberty to bring a friend ; he doesn t come as an offi 
 cer to-night." 
 
 The effect on the hag s features was marvelous. 
 The black scowl lightened, the tight-drawn lips re 
 laxed, and there was a sign of pleasure in the bright 
 eyes that had flashed hatred at the policeman. 
 
 "Ah, it s you, is it?" she said sharply, but with a 
 tone of kindness in her greeting. "I didn t see ye. 
 Now sit down and find a table, and I ll be with ye 
 after a bit." 
 
 "We want a dinner, and a good one. I m half- 
 starved." 
 
 "Are ye, honey?" said the woman with delight. 
 
MOTHER BORTON S ADVICE 143 
 
 "Then it s the best dinner in town ye shall have. 
 Here, Jim! Put these gentlemen over there at the 
 corner table." 
 
 And if the cooking was not what we could have 
 had at the Maison Doree and the service was a little 
 off color, neither of us was disposed to be critical. 
 
 "It s not the aristocracy of stoile ye get here," 
 said Corson, lighting his pipe after the coffee, "but 
 it s prime eating." 
 
 I nodded in lazy contentment, and then started up 
 in remembrance of the occasion of our being in this 
 place as the shadow of Mother Borton fell across the 
 table. Her keen eyes fixed on me and her sharp 
 beak nodding toward me gave her the uncanny 
 aspect of a bird of prey, and I felt a sinking of 
 courage as I met her glance. 
 
 "If you will go upstairs," she said sourly. "You 
 know the way. I guess your friend can spare you." 
 
 "Is there anything that can t be told before him ?" 
 I asked. 
 
 The features of the old woman hardened. 
 
 "You ll be safer in my care than in his/ she said, 
 with warning in her tone. 
 
 "Yes, yes, I know I am safe here, but how is it 
 with my friend if I leave him here? We came to 
 gether and we ll go together." 
 
 The crone nodded with a laugh that ended in a 
 snarl. 
 
 "If the gang knew he was here there would be 
 more fun than you saw the other night." 
 
144 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "Don t worry about me, Mr. Wilton," said Cor- 
 son with a grin. "I ve stood her crowd off before, 
 and I can do it again if the need comes. But I d 
 rather smoke a poipe in peace." 
 
 "You can smoke in peace, but it s not yourself 
 you can thank for it/ said Mother Borton sharply. 
 "There ll be no trouble here to-night. Come along." 
 And the old woman started for the door. 
 
 "Are you sure you re all right?" asked Corson in 
 a low voice. "There s men gone up those stairs that 
 came down with a sheet over them." 
 
 "It s all right that is, unless there s any danger 
 to you in leaving you here." 
 
 "No. Go ahead. I ll wait for ye. I d as lief sit 
 here as anywheres." 
 
 I hastened after Mother Borton, who was glow 
 ering at me from the doorway, and followed her 
 footsteps in silence to the floor above. 
 
 There was a dim light and a foul smell in the 
 upper hall, both of which came from a lamp that 
 burned with a low flame on a bracket by the forward 
 stair. There were perhaps a dozen doors to be seen, 
 all closed, but all giving the discomforting sugges 
 tion that they had eyes to mark my coming. 
 
 Mother Borton walked the passage cautiously and 
 in silence, and I followed her example until she 
 pushed open a door and was swallowed up in the 
 blackness. Then I paused on the threshold while 
 she lighted a candle; and as I entered, she swiftly 
 closed and locked the door behind me. 
 
MOTHER BORTON S ADVICE 145 
 
 "Sit down/ she said in a harsh voice, motioning 
 me to a chair by the stand that held the candle. Then 
 this strange creature seated herself in front of me, 
 and looked steadily and sternly in my face for a full 
 minute. The gaze of the piercing, deep-sunken eyes 
 of the old hag, the evil lines that marked the lean, 
 sharp features, gaining a still more sinister meaning 
 from the wavering, flickering light thrown upon her 
 face by the candle, gave me a feeling of anything 
 but ease in my position. 
 
 "What have you done that I should help you?" 
 she broke forth in a harsh voice, her eyes still fixed 
 on my face. 
 
 "I really couldn t say/ I replied politely. "You 
 have done me one or two services already. That s 
 the best reason I know why you should do me an 
 other." 
 
 The hard lines on the face before me relaxed at 
 the sound of my voice, and the old woman nodded 
 approvingly. 
 
 "Ay, reason enough, I guess. Them as wants 
 better can find it themselves. But why did you sneak 
 out of the house the other night like a cop in plain 
 clothes? Didn t I go bail you were safe? Do you 
 want any better word than mine?" she had begun 
 almost softly, but the voice grew higher and harsher 
 as she went on. 
 
 "Why," I said, bewildered again, "the house 
 sneaked away from me or, at least you left me 
 alone in it." 
 
146 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "How was that?" she asked grimly. And I de 
 scribed graphically my experience in the deserted 
 building. 
 
 As I proceeded with my tale an amused look re 
 placed the harsh lines of suspicion on Mother Bor- 
 ton s face. 
 
 "Oh, my lud !" she cried with a chuckle. "Oh, my 
 lud ! how very green you are, my boy. Oh ho ! oh 
 ho!" And then she laughed an inward, self-con 
 suming laugh that called up anything but the feeling 
 of sympathetic mirth. 
 
 "I m glad it amuses you," I said with injured 
 dignity. 
 
 "Oh, my liver! Don t you see it yet? Don t you 
 see that you climbed into the next house back, and 
 went through on to the other street?" And she re 
 lapsed into her state of silent merriment. 
 
 I felt foolish enough as the truth flashed over me. 
 I had lost my sense of direction in the strange house, 
 and had been deceived by the resemblance of the 
 ground plan of the two buildings. 
 
 "But what about the plot?" I asked. "I got your 
 note. It s very interesting. What about it ?" 
 
 "What plot?" 
 
 "Why, I don t know. The one you wrote me 
 about." 
 
 Mother Borton bent forward and searched my 
 face with her keen glance. 
 
 "Oh," she said at last, "the one I wrote you about. 
 I d forgotten it." 
 
MOT HERBORTON S ADVICE 147 
 
 This was disheartening. How could I depend on 
 one whose memory was thus capricious? 
 
 "Yes," said I gloomily; "I supposed you might 
 know something about it." 
 
 "Show me the note," she said sharply. 
 
 I fumbled through my pockets until I found it. 
 Mother Borton clutched it, held it up to the candle, 
 and studied it for two or three minutes. 
 
 "Where did you get it?" 
 
 I described the circumstances in which it had come 
 into my possession, and repeated the essentials of 
 Corson s story. Mother Borton s sharp, evil face 
 was impassive during my recital. When it was done 
 she muttered : 
 
 "Gimme a fool for luck." Then she appeared to 
 consider for a minute or more. 
 
 "Well?" said I inquiringly. 
 
 "Well, honey, you re having a run of the cards," 
 she said at last. "Between having the message 
 trusted to a fool boy, and having a cop for your 
 friend, an maybe gitting this note before you re ex 
 pected to, you re setting here genteel-like having 
 agreeable conversation along with me, instead of be 
 ing in company you mightn t like so well or maybe 
 floating out toward Fort Point." 
 
 "So you didn t write it?" I said coolly. "I had an 
 idea of the kind. That s why my friend Corson is 
 smoking his pipe down stairs." 
 
 Mother Borton gave me a pleased look and nod 
 ded. I hoped I had made her regret the cruel insin- 
 
148 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 uation in her application of the proverb to me as the 
 favorite of fortune. 
 
 "I see," I said. "I was to be waylaid on the road 
 here and killed." 
 
 "Carried off, more likely. I don t say as it 
 wouldn t end in killin ye. But, you see, you d be 
 of mighty small use in tellin tales if you was dead; 
 but you might be got to talk if they had ye in a 
 quiet place." 
 
 "Good reasoning. But Henry Wilton was killed." 
 
 "Yes," admitted Mother Borton; "they thought 
 he carried papers, and maybe they ain t got over the 
 idea yit. It s jest as well you re here instid of hav 
 ing a little passear with Tom Terrill and Darby 
 Meeker and their pals." 
 
 "Well," said I, as cheerfully as I could under the 
 depressing circumstances, "if they want to kill me, 
 I don t see how I can keep them from getting a 
 chance sooner or later." 
 
 Mother Borton looked anxious at this, and shook 
 her head. 
 
 "You must call on your men," she said decidedly. 
 "You must have guards." 
 
 "By the way," I said, "that reminds me. The 
 men haven t been paid, and they re looking to me 
 for money." 
 
 "Who s looking to you for money?" 
 
 "Dicky Nahl and the others, I suppose." 
 
 "Dicky Nahl?" 
 
 "Why, yes. He asked me for it." 
 
MOTHER BORTON S ADVICE 149 
 
 "And you gave it to him ?" she asked sharply. 
 
 "No-o that is, I gave him ten dollars, and told 
 him he d have to wait for the rest. I haven t got 
 the money from the one that s doing the hiring yet, 
 so I couldn t pay him." 
 
 Mother Borton gave an evil grin, and absorbed 
 another inward laugh. 
 
 "I reckon the money ll come all right," said 
 Mother Borton, recovering from her mirth. 
 "There s one more anxious than you to have em 
 paid, and if you ain t found out you ll have it right 
 away. Now for guards, take Trent no, he s hurt. 
 Take Brown and Porter and Barkhouse and Fitz- 
 hugh. They re wide-awake, and don t talk much. 
 Take em two and two, and never go without em, 
 night or day. You stop here to-night, and I ll git 
 em for you to-morrow." 
 
 I declined the proffered hospitality with thanks, 
 and as a compromise agreed to call for my body 
 guard in the early morning. Rejoining Corson, I 
 explained Mother Borton s theory of the plot that 
 had brought me thither. 
 
 "She s like to be right," said the policeman. "She 
 knows the gang. Now, if you ll take my advice, 
 you ll let the rats have your room for this night, 
 and come along up to some foine hotel." 
 
 The advice appeared good, and fifteen minutes 
 later Corson was drinking my health at the Lick 
 House bar, and calling on the powers of light and 
 darkness to watch over my safety as I slept. 
 
150 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 Whether due to his prayers or not, my sleep was 
 undisturbed, even by dreams of Doddridge Knapp 
 and his charming but scornful daughter; and with 
 the full tide of life and business flowing through 
 the streets in the morning hours I found myself once 
 more in Mother Borton s dingy eating-room, order 
 ing a breakfast. 
 
 Mother Borton ignored my entrance, and, perched 
 on a high stool behind the bar and cash-drawer, re 
 minded me of the vulture guarding its prey. But 
 ac last she fluttered over to my table and took a seat 
 opposite. 
 
 "Your men are here," she said shortly. And 
 then, as I expressed my thanks, she warmed up and 
 gave me a description by which I should know each 
 and led me to the room where, as she said, they 
 were "corralled." 
 
 "By the way," I said, halting outside the door, 
 "they ll want some money, I suppose. Do you know 
 how much ?" 
 
 "They re paid/ she said, and pushed open the 
 door before I could express surprise or ask further 
 questions. I surmised that she had paid them her 
 self to save me from annoyance or possible danger, 
 and my gratitude to this strange creature rose still 
 higher. 
 
 The four men within the room saluted me 
 gravely and with Mother Borton s directions in 
 mind I had no hesitation in calling each by his name. 
 I was pleased to see that they were robust, vigorous 
 
**! OTHER BORTON S ADVICE 151 
 
 fellows, and soon made my dispositions. Brown and 
 Barkhouse were to attend me during daylight, and 
 Fitzhugh and Porter were to guard together at 
 night. And, so much settled, I hastened to the 
 office. 
 
 No sign of Doddridge Knapp disturbed the morn 
 ing, and at the noon hour I returned to the room in 
 the house of mystery that was still my only fixed 
 abode. 
 
 All was apparently as I had left it, except that a 
 letter lay on the table. 
 
 "I must get a new lock," was my comment, as I 
 broke the seal. "This place is getting too public when 
 every messenger has a key." I was certain that I 
 had locked the door when Corson and I had come 
 out on the evening before. 
 
 The letter was from my unknown employer, and 
 read: 
 
 "Richmond has paid the men. Be ready for a 
 move at any moment. Leave your address if you 
 sleep elsewhere." 
 
 And now came three or four days of rest and 
 quiet after the merry life I had been leading since 
 my arrival in San Francisco. 
 
 No word did I get from Doddridge Knapp. I kept 
 close watch of the stock market, and gossiped with 
 speculators and brokers, for I wished to know at 
 once if he had employed another agent. My work 
 
152 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 would lie in another direction if such should prove 
 to be the case. But there was no movement in 
 Omega, and I could hear no hint of another deal 
 that might show a trace of his dexterous hand. 
 "Quiet trading/ was the report from all quarters. 
 
 "Fact is," said Wallbridge on the fourth day, try 
 ing to look doleful, "I haven t made enough this 
 week to pay for the gas and I don t burn any." 
 
 In the interval I improved my time by getting 
 better acquainted with the city. Emboldened by my 
 body-guard, I slept for two nights in Henry s room, 
 and with one to watch outside the door, one lying 
 on a mattress just inside, and a new lock and bolt, I 
 was free from disturbance. 
 
 Just as I had formed a wild idea of looking up 
 Doddridge Knapp in his home, I came to the office 
 in the morning to find the door into Room 16 wide 
 open and the farther door ajar. 
 
 "Come in, Wilton," said the voice of the King of 
 the Street ; and I entered his room to find him busied 
 over his papers, as though nothing had occurred 
 since I had last met him. 
 
 "The market has had something of a vacation," I 
 ventured, as he failed to speak. 
 
 "I have been out of town," he said shortly. "What 
 have you done?" 
 
 "Nothing." 
 
 He gave a grunt of assent. 
 
 "You didn t expect me to be buying up the market, 
 did you?" 
 
MOTHER BORTON S ADVICE 155 
 
 The yellow-gray mustache went up, and the wolf- 
 fangs gleamed from beneath. 
 
 "I reckon it wouldn t have been a very profitable 
 speculation," he replied. 
 
 Then he leaned back in his chair and looked 
 meditatively at the wall. 
 
 "It was for one fellow, though," he continued, 
 mellowing as he mused in his recollections. "It was 
 at the time of the Honest Injun deal I guess you 
 don t remember that. It must have been ten years 
 ago. Well, I had a fellow named why, what was 
 his name? oh, Riggs, or Rix, I forget which, and 
 he was handling about a hundred thousand dollars 
 for me. We had Honest Injun run up from one dol 
 lar till it was over twenty dollars a share. I had to 
 go up to Nevada City, and left ten thousand shares 
 with him with orders to sell at twenty-five." 
 
 "Yes," I said, as the King of the Street paused 
 and seemed inclined to drop the story. "At twenty- 
 five." 
 
 "Well," he continued at this encouragement, 
 "when I came back, Honest Injun was dow r n to ten 
 cents, or somewhere around there, which was just 
 about as I expected. Riggs comes up to me as proud 
 as a spotted pup, and tells me that he d sold at thirty 
 dollars, and cleared fifty thousand more than I d ex 
 pected." 
 
 "A pretty good deal," I suggested. 
 
 "It happened that way, but it wouldn t happen so 
 once in ten years. The stock had gone up to thirty- 
 
154 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 one or thirty-two before it broke, and he had sold 
 just in time." 
 
 "Did he get a reward?" I asked, as my employer 
 appeared to wait for an observation from me. 
 
 "He did," said the Wolf with a growl. "I dis 
 charged him on the spot. And hanged if I didn t 
 tell him that the fifty thousand was his and let him 
 have it, too. Oh, he was playing in great luck ! That 
 combination wouldn t come twice in a thousand 
 years. The next man who tried it went to jail," he 
 added with a snap of the jaws. 
 
 "Quite correct," I said. "Orders must be obeyed." 
 
 "Just remember that," he said significantly. 
 "Have you heard anything more of Decker?" 
 
 "I ve heard enough to satisfy me that he s the 
 man who got the Omega stock." 
 
 "What other deal is he in?" asked the King of the 
 Street. 
 
 "I don t know." 
 
 The King of the Street smiled indulgently. 
 
 "Well, you ve got something to learn yet. I ll 
 give you till next week to find the answer to that 
 question." 
 
 I was convinced from his air that he had informa 
 tion on both these points himself, and was merely 
 trying my knowledge. 
 
 "I ll not be back before next Wednesday," he con 
 cluded. 
 
 "Going away again?" I asked in surprise. 
 
 "I m off to Virginia City," he replied after con- 
 
MOTHER BORTON S ADVICE 155 
 
 sidering for a little. "I m not sure about Omega, 
 after all and there s another one I want to look 
 into. You needn t mention my going. When I come 
 back we ll have a campaign that will raise the roof 
 of every Board in town. No orders till then unless I 
 telegraph you. That s all." 
 
 The King of the Street seemed straightforward 
 enough in his statement ot plans, and it did not oc 
 cur to me to distrust him while I was in his pres 
 ence. Yet, once more in my office, with the locked 
 door between, I began to doubt, and tried to find 
 some hidden meaning in each word and look. 
 What plan was he revolving in that fertile brain? I 
 could not guess. The mystery of the great speculator 
 was beyond my power to fathom. And we worked, 
 each in ignorance of the other s purposes, and went 
 the appointed road. 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 I AM IN THE TOILS 
 
 "Welcome once more, Mr. Wilton/* said Mrs. 
 Doddridge Knapp, holding out her hand. "Were 
 you going to neglect us again ?" 
 
 "Not at all, madam," said I with unblushing men 
 dacity. "I am always at your command." 
 
 Mrs. Knapp bowed with regal condescension, and 
 replied with such intimations of good will that I was 
 glad I had come. I had vowed I would never set 
 foot again in the place. The hot blood of shame had 
 burned my cheeks whenever I recalled my dismissal 
 from the lips of the daughter of the house. But I 
 had received a letter from Mrs. Bowser, setting 
 forth that I was wanted at the house of Doddridge 
 Knapp, and her prolixity was such that I was unable 
 to determine whether she, or Mrs. Knapp, or Luella, 
 wished to see me. But as all three appeared to be 
 concerned in it I pocketed pride and resentment, and 
 made my bow with some nervous quavers at the Pine 
 Street palace. 
 
 As I was speaking I cast my eyes furtively about 
 the room. Mrs. Knapp interpreted my glance. 
 
 "She will be in presently." There was to my ear 
 56 
 
I AM IN THE TOILS 157 
 
 a trace of mocking laughter in her voice as she spoke, 
 but her face betokened only a courteous interest. 
 
 "Thanks I hope so," I said in a little confusion. 
 I wished I knew whether she meant Luella or Mrs. 
 Bowser. 
 
 "You got the note?" she asked. 
 
 "It was a great pleasure." 
 
 "Mrs. Bowser wished so much to see you again. 
 She has been singing your praises you were such 
 an agreeable young man." 
 
 I cursed Mrs. Bowser in my heart. 
 
 "I am most flattered," I said politely. 
 
 There was a mischievous sparkle in Mrs. Knapp s 
 eye, but her face was serenely gracious. 
 
 "I believe there was some arrangement between 
 you about a trip to see the sights of Chinatown. 
 Mrs. Bowser was quite worried for fear you had 
 forgotten it, so I gave her your address and told her 
 to write you a note." 
 
 I had not been conscious of expecting anything 
 from my visit, but at this bit of information I found 
 that I had been building air-castles which had been 
 invisible till they came tumbling about my ears. I 
 could not look for Miss Knapp s company on such an 
 expedition. 
 
 "Oh," said I, with an attempt to conceal my dis 
 appointment, "the matter had slipped my mind. I 
 shall be most happy to attend Mrs. Bowser, or to see 
 that she has a proper escort." 
 
 We had been walking about the room during this 
 
158 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 conversation, and at this point had come to an al 
 cove where Mrs. Knapp motioned me to a seat. 
 
 "I may not get a chance to talk with you alone 
 again this evening," she continued, dropping her 
 half-bantering tone, "and you come so little now. 
 What are you doing ?" 
 
 "Keeping out of mischief." 
 
 "Yes, but how?" she persisted. "You used to tell 
 me everything. Now you tell me nothing." 
 
 "Mr. Knapp s work " I began. 
 
 "Oh, of course I don t expect you to tell me about 
 that. I know Mr. Knapp, and you re as close- 
 mouthed as he, even when he s away." 
 
 "I should tell you anything of my own, but, of 
 course, another s " 
 
 "I understand." Mrs. Knapp, sitting with hands 
 clasped in her lap, gave me a quick look. "But there 
 was something else. You were telling me about your 
 adventures, you remember. You told me two or 
 three weeks ago about the way you tricked Darby 
 Meeker and sent him to Sierra City." And she 
 smiled at the recollection of Darby Meeker s dis 
 comfiture. 
 
 "Oh, yes," I said, with a laugh that sounded dis 
 tressingly hollow to my ears. "That was a capital 
 joke on Meeker." 
 
 Here was a fine pack of predicaments loosed on 
 my trail. It was with an effort that I kept my coun 
 tenance, and the cold sweat started on my forehead. 
 How much had Henry told of his business ? Had he 
 
I AM IN THE TOILS 159 
 
 touched on it lightly, humorously, or had he given 
 a full account of his adventures to the wife of the 
 man with whose secrets he was concerned, and whose 
 evil plans had brought him to his death? The ques 
 tions flashed through my mind in the instant that 
 followed Mrs. Knapp s speech. 
 
 "How did it turn out?" asked Mrs. Knapp with 
 lively interest. "Did he get back?" 
 
 I decided promptly on a judicious amount of the 
 truth. 
 
 "Yes, he got back, boiling with wrath, and loaded 
 to the guards with threats that is, I heard so from 
 my men. I didn t see him myself, or you might have 
 found the rest of it in the newspaper." 
 
 "What did he do? Tell me about it." Mrs Knapp 
 gave every evidence of absorbed interest. 
 
 "Well, he laid a trap for me at Borton s, put Ter- 
 rill in as advance guard, and raised blue murder 
 about the place." And then I went on to give a care 
 fully amended account of my first night s row at 
 Borton s, and with an occasional question, Mrs. 
 Knapp had soon extorted from me a fairly full ac 
 count of my doings. 
 
 "It is dreadful for you to expose yourself to such 
 dangers." 
 
 I was privately of her opinion. 
 
 "Oh, that s nothing," said I airily. "A man may 
 be killed any day by a brick falling from a building, 
 or by slipping on an orange peel on the crossing." 
 
 "But it is dreadful to court death so. Yet," she 
 
160 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 mused, "if I were a man I could envy you your work. 
 There is romance and life in it, as well as danger. 
 You are doing in the nineteenth century and in the 
 midst of civilization what your forefathers may have 
 done in the days of chivalry." 
 
 "It is a fine life," I said dryly. "But it has its 
 drawbacks." 
 
 "But while you live no one can harm the child," 
 she said. There was inquiry in her tone, I thought. 
 
 I suppressed a start of surprise. I had avoided 
 mention of the boy. Henry had trusted Mrs. Knapp 
 further than I had dreamed. 
 
 "He shall never be given up by me," I replied 
 with conviction. 
 
 "That is spoken like a true, brave man," said Mrs. 
 Knapp with an admiring look. 
 "Thank you," I said modestly. 
 "Another life than yours depends on your skill 
 and courage. That must give you strength," she 
 said softly. 
 
 "It does indeed," I replied. I was thinking of 
 Doddridge Knapp s life. 
 
 "But here come Luella and Mrs. Bowser," said 
 Mrs. Knapp. "I see I shall lose your company " 
 
 My heart gave a great bound, and I turned to see 
 the queenly grace of Luella Knapp as she entered 
 the room in the train of Mrs. Bowser. 
 
 Vows of justice and vengeance, visions of danger 
 and death, faded away as I looked once more on the 
 mobile, expressive face of the girl who had claimed 
 
I AM IN THE TOILS 161 
 
 so great a share of my waking thoughts and filled 
 my dreams from the first moment her spirit had 
 flashed on mine. I rose and my eyes followed her 
 eagerly as I stood by the curtain of the alcove, ob 
 livious of all else in the room. 
 
 Was it fancy, or had she grown paler and thinner 
 since I had last seen her ? Surely those dark hollows 
 under her eyes that told of worry and lost sleep were 
 not there when her brightness had chained my ad 
 miration. I could guess that she was grieving for 
 Henry, and a jealous pang shot through my heart. 
 She gave no glance in my direction as she walked 
 into the room and looked about her. I dreaded her 
 eye as I hungered for a look. 
 
 "Luella!" called Mrs. Knapp. I fancied she gave 
 a low, musical laugh as she spoke, yet a glance 
 showed me that her face was calm and serious. 
 "Luella, here is some one you will like to see." 
 
 Luella Knapp turned and advanced. What was 
 the look that lighted up her face and sparkled from 
 her eyes ? Before I could analyze the magnetic thrill 
 that came from it, it was gone. A flush passed over 
 her face and died away as she came. 
 
 "You honor our poor house once more?" she said, 
 dropping a mock courtesy. "I thought you had de 
 serted us." 
 
 I was surprised at this line of attack, and for a 
 moment my little army of ideas was thrown into 
 confusion. I felt, rather than heard, the undertone 
 that carried the real meaning of her words. 
 
162 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "Not I," said I stoutly, recovering myself, and 
 holding out my hand. I saw there was a little play 
 to be carried on for the benefit of Mrs. Knapp. For 
 some reason she had not confided in her mother. 
 "Not I. I am always your very humble knight." 
 
 I saw that Mrs. Knapp was looking at us curi 
 ously, and pressed my advantage. Luella took my 
 hand unwillingly. I was ready to dare a good deal 
 for the clasp of her fingers, but I scarcely felt the 
 thrill of their touch before she had snatched them 
 away. 
 
 "There s nothing but pretty speeches to be had 
 from you and quotations at that," she said, There 
 was malice under the seeming innocence of a pre 
 tended pout. 
 
 "There s nothing that could be so becoming in the 
 circumstances." 
 
 "Except common sense," frowned Luella. 
 
 "The most uncommon of qualities, my dear," 
 laughed Mrs. Knapp. "Sit down, children. I must 
 see to Mr. Carter, who is lost by the portiere and will 
 never be discovered unless I rescue him." 
 
 "Take him to dear Aunt Julia," said Luella as her 
 mother left us. 
 
 "Dear Aunt Julia," I inferred, was Mrs. Bowser. 
 
 I was certain that Mr. Carter would not find the 
 demands of conversation too much for him if he was 
 blest with the company of that charming dame. 
 
 Luella took a seat, and I followed her example. 
 Then, with chin in hand and elbow on the arm of her 
 
I AM IN THE TOILS 163 
 
 chair, the young woman looked at me calmly and 
 thoughtfully. 
 
 I grew a little uncomfortable as my self-possession 
 melted away before this steady gaze. I had no ob 
 servations to make, being uncertain about the 
 weather, so I had the prudence to keep silent. 
 
 "Well," said Luella at last, in a cutting voice, 
 "why don t you talk ?" 
 
 "It s your lead," said I gloomily. "You took the 
 last trick." 
 
 At this reference to our meeting, Luella looked 
 surprised. Then she gave a little rippling laugh. 
 
 "Really," she said, "I believe I shall begin to like 
 you, yet." . 
 
 "That s very kind of you; but turn about is fair 
 play." 
 
 "You mustn t do that," said she severely, "or I 
 shan t." 
 
 "I meant it," said I defiantly. 
 
 "Then you ought to know better than to say it," 
 she retorted. 
 
 "I m in need of lessons, I fear." 
 
 "How delightful of you to confess it ! Then shall 
 I tell you what to do?" 
 
 This was very charming. I hastened to say : 
 
 "Do, by all means." 
 
 The young woman sank back in her chair, clasped 
 her hands in her lap as her mother had done, and 
 glanced hastily about. Then in a low voice she said : 
 
 "Be yourself." 
 
164 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 It was an electric shock she gave me, not more by 
 the words than by the tone. 
 
 I struggled for a moment before I regained my 
 mental balance. 
 
 "Don t you think we could get on safer ground ?" 
 I suggested. 
 
 "No/ said Luella. "There isn t any safe ground 
 for us otherwise." 
 
 The sudden heart-sickness at the reminder of my 
 mission with which these words overwhelmed me, 
 tied my tongue and mastered my spirits. It was this 
 girl s father that I was pursuing. It was to bring 
 him to the halter that I must keep up my masquerade. 
 It was to bring her to sorrow and disgrace that I was 
 bound by the dead hand of my murdered friend. 
 Oh, why was this burden laid upon me? Why was 
 I to be torn on the rack between inclination and 
 duty? 
 
 Luella watched my face narrowly through the 
 conflict in my mind, and I felt as though her spirit 
 struggled with mine to win me to the course of open, 
 honest dealing. But it was impossible. She must be 
 the last of all to know. 
 
 Her eyes sank as though she knew which had won 
 the victory, and a proud, scornful look took the place 
 of the grave good humor that had been there a mo 
 ment before. Then, on a sudden, she began to speak 
 of the theaters, rides, drives and what-not of the 
 pleasures of the day. To an observer it would have 
 seemed that we were deep in friendly discourse ; but 
 
I AM IN THE TOILS 165 
 
 I, who felt hsr tone and manner, knew that she was 
 miles away from me and talking but for the appear 
 ance of courtesy. Suddenly she stopped with a 
 weary look. 
 
 There s Aunt Julia waiting for you," she said 
 with a gleam of malicious pleasure. "Come along. 
 I deliver you over a prisoner of war." 
 
 "Wait a minute," I pleaded. 
 
 "No," she said, imperiously motioning me. 
 "Come along/ And with a sigh I was given, a help 
 less, but silently protesting, captive, to the mercies 
 of Mrs. Bowser. 
 
 That eloquent lady received me with a flutter of 
 feathers, if I may borrow the expression, to indicate 
 her pleasure. 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Wilton, you ll pardon my boldness, I m 
 sure," she said with an amiable flirt of the head, as I 
 seated myself beside her and watched Luella melt 
 away into the next ropm ; "but I was afraid you had 
 forgotten all about us poor women, and it s a dread 
 ful thing to be in this great house when there isn t 
 a man about, though of course there are the ser 
 vants, but you can t count them as men, besides some 
 of them being Chinamen. And we I that is, I 
 really did want to see you, and we ought to have so 
 much to talk over, for I ve heard that your mother s 
 first cousin was a Bowser, and I do so want to see 
 that dear, delightful Chinatown that I ve heard so 
 much about, though they do say it s horrid and dirty, 
 but you ll let us see that for ourselves, won t you, 
 
i66 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 and did you ever go through Chinatown, Mr. Wil 
 ton?" 
 
 Mrs. Bowser pulled up her verbal coach-and-six 
 so suddenly that I felt as though she must have been 
 pitched off the box. 
 
 "Oh," said I carelessly, "I ve seen the place often 
 enough." 
 
 "How nice !" Then suddenly looking grave, Mrs. 
 Bowser spoke from behind her fan. "But I hope, 
 Mr. Wilton, there s nothing there that a lady 
 shouldn t see." 
 
 I hastened to assure her that it was possible to 
 avoid everything that would bring a blush to the 
 cheek of a matron of her years. 
 
 Mrs. Bowser at this rattled on without coming to 
 any point, and, after waiting to learn when she ex 
 pected to claim my services, and seeing no prospect 
 of getting such information without a direct ques 
 tion, I allowed my eyes and attention to wander 
 about the room, feeding the flow of speech, when it 
 was checked, with a word or two of reply. I could 
 see nothing of Luella, and Mrs. Knapp appeared to 
 be too much taken up with other guests to notice 
 me. I was listening to the flow of Mrs. Bowser s 
 high-pitched voice without getting any idea from it, 
 when my wandering attention was suddenly recalled 
 by the words, "Mr. Knapp." 
 
 "What was that ?" I asked in some confusion. "I 
 didn t catch your meaning." 
 
 "I was saying I thought it strange Mr. Knapp 
 
I AM IN THE TOILS 167 
 
 wouldn t go with us, and he got awfully cross when 
 I pressed him, and said oh, Mr. Wilton, he said 
 such a dreadful word that he d be everlastingly 
 somethinged if he would ever go into such a lot of 
 dens of oh, I can t repeat his dreadful language 
 but wasn t it strange, Mr. Wilton ?" 
 
 "Very," I said diplomatically; "but it isn t worth 
 while to wait for him, then." 
 
 "Oh, laws, no ! he ll be home to-morrow, but he 
 won t go." 
 
 "Home to-morrow !" I exclaimed. "I thought he 
 wasn t to come till Wednesday." 
 
 Mrs. Bowser looked a little uncomfortable. 
 
 "I guess he s old enough to come and go when he 
 likes," she said. But her flow of words seemed to 
 desert her. 
 
 "Very true," I admitted. "I wonder what s bring 
 ing him back in such a hurry." 
 
 Mrs. Bowser s beady eyes turned on me in doubt, 
 and for a moment she was dumb. Then she followed 
 this miracle by another, and spoke in a low tone of 
 
 voice. 
 
 M 
 
 It s not for me to say anything against a man in 
 his own house, but I don t like to talk of Doddridge 
 Knapp." 
 
 "What s the matter?" I asked. "A little rough in 
 his speech? Oh, Mrs. Bowser, you should make al 
 lowances for a man who has had to fight his way in 
 the roughest business life in the world, and not ex 
 pect too much of his polish." 
 
i68 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "Oh, laws, he s polite enough," whispered Mrs. 
 Bowser. "It ain t that oh, I don t see how she ever 
 married him." 
 
 I followed the glance that Mrs. Bowser gave on 
 interrupting herself with this declaration, and saw 
 Mrs. Knapp approaching us. 
 
 "Oh," she exclaimed cheerily, "is it all settled? 
 Have you made all the arrangements, Cousin Julia ?" 
 
 "Well, I declare! I d forgotten all about telling 
 him," cried Mrs. Bowser in her shrillest tone. "I d 
 just taken it for a fact that he d know when to 
 
 come." 
 
 "That s a little too much to expect, I m afraid," 
 said Mrs. Knapp, smiling gaily at Mrs. Bowser s 
 management. "I see that I shall have to arrange this 
 thing myself. Will Monday night suit you, Henry?" 
 
 "As well as another," said I politely, concealing 
 my feelings as a victim of feminine diplomacy. 
 
 "You have told him who are going, haven t you?" 
 said Mrs. Knapp to Mrs. Bowser. 
 
 "Laws, no ! I never thought but what he knew/ 
 
 "Oh!" exclaimed Mrs. Knapp. "What a gift as a 
 mind-reader Mr. Wilton ought to have ! Well, I sup 
 pose I d better not trust to that, Henry. There s to 
 be Mrs. Bowser, of course, and Mr. and Mrs. Carter, 
 and Mr. Horton, and oh, yes Luella." 
 
 My heart gave a jump, and the trip to Chinatown 
 suddenly became an object of interest. 
 
 "I, mama?" said an inquiring voice, and Luella 
 herself stood by her mother. 
 
I AM IN THE TOILS 169 
 
 "Yes," said Mrs. Knapp. "It s the Chinatown ex 
 pedition for Monday night." 
 
 Luella looked annoyed, and tapped her foot to the 
 floor impatiently. 
 
 "With Mr. Wilton," there was the slightest em 
 phasis on the words, "to accompany the party, I 
 shouldn t think it would be necessary for me to go/ 
 
 "It is either you or I," said Mrs. Knapp. 
 
 "You will be needed to protect Mr. Horton," said 
 I sarcastically. 
 
 "Oh, what a task!" she said gaily. "I shall be 
 ready." And she turned away before I could put in 
 another word, and I walked down the room with 
 Mrs. Knapp. 
 
 "And so Mr. Knapp is coming home to-morrow ?" 
 I said. 
 
 Mrs. Knapp gave me a quick look. 
 
 "Yes," she said. There was something in her tone 
 that set me to thinking that there was more than I 
 knew behind Mr. Knapp s sudden return. 
 
 "I hope he is not ill," I said politely. 
 
 Mrs. Knapp appeared to be considering some 
 point deeply, and did not answer for a little. Then 
 she shook her head as though the idea was not to her 
 liking. 
 
 "I think you will find him all right when you see 
 him. But here you must meet Mr. and Mrs. Carter. 
 They are just from the East, and very charming 
 people, and as you are to do them the honors on 
 Monday evening, you should know them." 
 
i;o BLINDFOLDED 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Carter had pleasant faces and few 
 ideas, and as the conversational fire soon burned low 
 I sought Mrs. Knapp and took my leave. Luella was 
 nowhere to be seen. 
 
 "You must be sure that you are well-guarded," 
 said Mrs. Knapp. "It quite gives me the terrors to 
 think of those murderous fellows. And since you 
 told me of that last plot to call you down to Borton s, 
 I have a presentiment that some special danger is 
 ahead of you. Be cautious as well as brav^." 
 
 She had followed me into the hall, and op ~ -..c her 
 warning freely. There was a sadness in her eyes 
 that seemed as though she would dissuade me from 
 my task. 
 
 I thanked her as she pressed my hand, ".nc\ v/ith 
 no Luella awaiting me by the stair, I took my way 
 down the stone steps, between the bron7e lions, and 
 joined Porter and Barkhouse on the sidewa .... 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 AN ECHO OF WARNING 
 
 "All quiet ?" I asked of my guards, as we took our 
 way down the street. 
 
 "All quiet," said Porter. 
 
 "You d better tell him," said Barkhouse. 
 
 "Oh, yes," said Porter, as if in sudden recollec 
 tion. "Dicky Nahl was along here, and he said Ter- 
 rill and Meeker and the other gang was holding a 
 powwow at Borton s, and we d best look out for sur 
 prises." 
 
 "Was that all?" 
 
 "Well, he said he guessed there was a new deal on 
 hand, and they was a-buzzin like a nest of hornets. 
 It was hornets, wasn t it, Bob?" 
 
 "Hornets was what he said," repeated Barkhouse 
 stolidly. 
 
 "Where s Dicky now ?" I asked. , 
 
 "I ain t good at guessing," said Porter, "and 
 Bob s nothing at all at it." 
 
 "Well," said I, "we had better go down to Bor 
 ton s and look into this matter." 
 
 There was silence for a time. My guards walked 
 beside me without speaking, but I felt the protest 
 
 171 
 
172 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 in their manner. At last Barkhouse said respect 
 fully : 
 
 "There s no use to do that, sir. You d better send 
 some one that ain t so likely to be nabbed, or that 
 won t matter much if he is. We d be in a pretty fix 
 if you was to be took." 
 
 "Here comes Dicky, now," said Porter, as a dark 
 figure came swinging lightly along. 
 
 "Hullo!" cried Dicky, halting and shading his 
 eyes from the gaslight. "I was just going up to look 
 for you again." 
 
 "What s up, Dicky?" 
 
 "I guess it s the devil," said Dicky, so gravely 
 that I broke into a laugh. 
 
 "He s right at home if he s come to this town," I 
 said. 
 
 "I m glad you find it so funny," said Dicky in an 
 injured tone. "You was scared enough last time." 
 
 I had put my foot in it, sure enough. I might have 
 guessed that the devil was not his Satanic Majesty 
 but some evil-minded person in the flesh whom I had 
 to fear. 
 
 "Can it be Doddridge Knapp?" flashed across my 
 mind but I dismissed the suspicion as without foun 
 dation. I spoke aloud : 
 
 "Well, I ve kept out of his claws this far, and it s 
 no use to worry. What s he trying to do now?" 
 
 "That s what I ve been trying to find out all the 
 evening. They re noisy enough, but they re too 
 thick to let one get near where there s anything go- 
 
AN ECHO OF WARNING 173 
 
 ing on that is, if he has a fancy for keeping a whole 
 skin." 
 
 "Suppose we go down there now/ I suggested. 
 "We might find out something." 
 
 Dicky stopped short. 
 
 "Csesar s ghost!" he gasped; "what next? 
 Wouldn t you like to touch off a few powder-kegs 
 for amusement? Won t you fire a pistol into your 
 mouth to show how easy you can stop the bullet ?" 
 
 "Why, you have been down there and are all 
 right," I argued. 
 
 "Well, there s nothing much to happen to me, but 
 where would you be if they got hold of you ? You re 
 getting off your cabesa, old fellow," said Dicky anx 
 iously. 
 
 "If I could see Mother Borton I could fix it," I 
 said confidently. 
 
 "What! That she-devil?" cried Dicky. "She d 
 give you up to have your throat cut in a minute if 
 she could get a four-bit piece for your carcass. I 
 guess she could get more than that on you, too." 
 
 Mother Borton s warnings against Dicky Nahl 
 returned to me with force at this expression of es 
 teem from the young man, and I was filled with 
 doubts. 
 
 "I came up to tell you to look out for yourself," 
 continued Dicky. "I m afraid they mean mischief, 
 and here you come with a wild scheme for getting 
 into the thick of it." 
 
 "Well, I ll think better of it," I said. "But see if 
 
174 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 you can find out what is going on. Come up and 
 let me know if you get an inkling of their plans." 
 
 "All right," said Dicky. "But just sleep on a hair- 
 trigger to-night." 
 
 "Good night," I said, as I turned toward my room, 
 and Dicky, with an answering word, took his way to 
 ward the Borton place. 
 
 I had grown used to the silent terrors of my house. 
 The weird fancies that clung around the gloomy 
 halls and dark doorways still whispered their threat 
 ening tales of danger and death. The air was still 
 peopled with the ghosts of forgotten crimes, and the 
 tragedy of the alley that had changed my life was 
 heavy on the place. But habit, and the confidence 
 that had come to me with the presence of my guards, 
 had made it a tolerable spot in which to live. But as 
 we stumbled up the stairway the apprehensions of 
 Dicky Nahl came strong upon me, and I looked 
 ahead to the murky halls, and glanced at every door 
 way, as though I expected an ambush. Porter arid 
 Barkhouse marched stolidly along, showing little 
 disposition to talk. 
 
 "What s that?" I exclaimed, stopping to listen. 
 
 "What was it?" asked Barkhouse, as we stopped 
 on the upper landing and gazed into the obscurity. 
 
 "I thought I heard a noise," said I. "Who s 
 there?" 
 
 "It was a rat," said Porter. "I ve heard em out 
 here of nights." 
 
 "Well, just light that other gas-jet," I said. "It 
 
AN ECHO OF WARNING 175 
 
 will help to make things pleasant in case of acci 
 dents." 
 
 The doors came out of the darkness as the second 
 jet blazed up, but nothing else was to be seen. 
 
 Suddenly there was a scramble, and something 
 sprang up before my door. Porter and I raised the 
 revolvers that were ready in our hands, but Bark- 
 house sprang past us, and in an instant had closed 
 with the figure and held it in his arms. 
 
 There was a volley of curses, oaths mingled with 
 sounds that reminded me of nothing so much as a 
 spitting cat, and a familiar voice screamed in almost 
 inarticulate rage : 
 
 "Let me go, damn ye, or I ll knife ye!" 
 
 "Good heavens!" I cried. "Let her go, Bark- 
 house. It s Mother Borton." 
 
 Mother Borton freed herself with a vicious shake, 
 and called down the wrath of Heaven and hell on 
 the stalwart guard. 
 
 "You re the black-hearted spawn of the sewer 
 rats, to take a respectable woman like a bag of meal," 
 cried Mother Borton indignantly, with a fresh string 
 of oaths. "It s fire and brimstone you ll be tasting 
 yet, and you d a been there before now, you miser 
 able gutter-picker, if it wasn t for me. And this is 
 the thanks I git from ye !" 
 
 "I ll apologize for his display of gallantry," said 
 I banteringly. "I ve always told him that he was too 
 fond of the ladies." 
 
 I was mistaken in judging that this tone would be 
 
176 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 the most effective to restore her to good humor. 
 Mother Borton turned on me furiously. 
 
 "Oh, it s you that would set him on a poor woman 
 as comes to do you a service. I was as wide-awake 
 as any of ye. I never closed my eyes a wink, and 
 you has to come a-sneakin up and settin your dogs 
 on me." Mother Borton again drew on an ap 
 parently inexhaustible vocabulary of oaths. "Oh, 
 you re as bad as him/ she shouted, "and I reckon 
 you d be worse if you knowed how." And she spat 
 out more curses, and shook her fist in impotent but 
 verbose rage. 
 
 "Come in," I said, unlocking the door and light 
 ing up my room. "You can be as angry as you like 
 in here, and it won t hurt anything." 
 
 Mother Borton stormed a bit, and then sullenly 
 walked in and took a chair. Silence fell on her as 
 she crossed the threshold, but she glowered on us 
 with fierce eyes. 
 
 "It s quite an agreeable surprise to see you," I 
 ventured as cheerfully as I could, as she made no 
 move to speak. My followers looked awkward and 
 uncomfortable. 
 
 At the sound of my voice, Mother Borton s bent 
 brows relaxed a little. 
 
 "If you d send these fellows out, I reckon we 
 could talk a bit better," she said sourly. 
 
 "Certainly. Just wait in the hall, boys ; and close 
 the door." 
 
 Porter and Barkhouse ambled out, and Mother 
 
Mother Borton sullenly took a chair Page 
 
AN ECHO OF WARNING 177 
 
 Borton gave her chair a hitch that brought us face 
 to face. 
 
 "You ain t so bad off here," she said, looking 
 around critically. "Can any one git in them win 
 ders?" 
 
 I explained that the west window might be en- 1 
 tered from the rear stairway by the aid of the heavy 
 shutter, if it were swung back and the window were 
 open. I added that we kept it closed and secured. 
 
 "And you say there s a thirty-foot drop from this 
 winder?" she inquired, pointing to the north. 
 
 I described the outlook on the alley. 
 
 She nodded as if satisfied. 
 
 "I reckon you don t think I come on a visit of per- 
 liteness?" she said sharply, after a brief silence. 
 
 I murmured something about being glad to enter 
 tain her at any time. 
 
 "Nonsense!" she sniffed. "I m a vile old woman 
 that the likes of you would never put eyes on twice 
 if it wasn t for your business none knows it better 
 than me. I don t know why I should put myself out 
 to help ye." Her tone had a touch of pathos under 
 its hardness. 
 
 "I know why," I said, a little touched. "It s be-^ 
 cause you like me." 
 
 She turned a softened eye on me. 
 
 "You re right," she said almost tenderly, with a 
 flash of womanly feeling on her seamed and evil 
 face. "I ve took a fancy to ye and no mistake, and 
 I d risk something to help ye." 
 
178 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "I knew you would," I said heartily. 
 "And that s what I come to do/ she said, with a 
 sparkle of pleasure in her eye. "I ve come to warn 
 
 ye-" 
 
 "New dangers?" I inquired cheerfully. My pru 
 dence suggested that I had better omit any mention 
 of the warning from Dicky Nahl. 
 
 "The same ones," said Mother Borton shortly, 
 "only more of em." 
 
 Then she eyed me grimly, crouching in her chair 
 with the appearance of an evil bird of prey, and 
 seemed to wait for me to speak. 
 
 "What is the latest plot?" I asked gravely, as I 
 fancied that my light manner grated on my strange 
 guest. 
 
 "I don t know," she said slowly. 
 
 "But. you know something," I argued. 
 
 "Maybe you know what I know better than I 
 knows it myself," growled Mother Borton with a 
 significant glance. 
 
 I resigned myself to await her humor. 
 
 "Not at all," said I carelessly. "I only know that 
 you ve come to tell me something, and that you ll 
 tell it in your own good time." 
 
 "It s fine to see that you ve learned not to drive 
 a woman," she returned with grim irony. "It s 
 something to know at your age." 
 
 I smiled sympathetically upon her, and she con 
 tinued : 
 
 "I might as well tell ye the whole of it, though I 
 
AN ECHO OF WARNING 179 
 
 reckon my throat s jist as like to be slit over it as 
 not." 
 
 "I ll never breathe a word of it," I replied fer 
 vently. 
 
 "I d trust ye," she said. "Well, there was a gang 
 across the street to-night across from my place, I 
 mean and that sneaking Tom Terrill and Darby 
 Meeker, and I reckon all the rest of em, was there. 
 And they was runnin back and forth to my place, 
 and a-drinkin a good deal, and the more they drinks 
 the louder they talks. And I hears Darby Meeker 
 say to one feller, We ll git him, sure ! and I listens 
 with all my ears, though pretendin to see nothin . 
 We ll fix it this time, he said ; the Old Un s got his 
 thinkin cap on. And I takes in every word, and by 
 one thing and another I picks up that there s new 
 schemes afoot to trap ye. They was a-sayin as it 
 might be an idee to take ye as you come out of 
 Knapp s to-night." 
 
 "How did they know I was at Knapp s ?" I asked, 
 somewhat surprised, though I had little reason to be 
 when I remembered the number of spies who might 
 have watched me. 
 
 "Why, Dicky Nahl told em," said Mother Bor- 
 ton. "He was with the gang, and sings it out as 
 pretty as you please." 
 
 This gave me something new to think about, but 
 I said nothing. 
 
 "Well," she continued, "they says at last that 
 won t do, fer it ll git em into trouble, and I reckon 
 
i8o BLINDFOLDED 
 
 they re argylying over their schemes yit. But one 
 thing I finds out." 
 
 Mother Borton stopped and looked at me anx 
 iously. 
 
 "Well," I said impatiently, "what was it?" 
 
 "They re a-sayin as how, if you re killed, the one 
 as you knows on 11 have to git some one else to look 
 after the boy, and mebbe he won t be so smart about 
 foolin them." 
 
 "That s an excellent idea," said I. "If they only 
 knew that I was the other fellow they could see at 
 once what a bright scheme they had hit upon." 
 
 "Maybe they ain t a-goin to do it," said Mother 
 Borton. "There s a heap o things said over the 
 liquor that don t git no further, but you ll be a fool 
 if you don t look out. Now, do as I tell you. You 
 just keep more men around you. Keep eyes in the 
 back of your head, and if you see there s a-goin to 
 be trouble, jest you shoot first and ax questions about 
 it afterward. They talked of getting you down on 
 the water-front or up in Chinatown with some bogus 
 message and said how easy it would be to dispose of 
 you without leaving clues behind em. Now, don t 
 you sleep here without three or four men on guard, 
 and don t you stir round nights with less than four. 
 Send Porter out to git two more men, and tell him 
 to look sharp and see if the coast s clear outside. I 
 reckon I ll slide out if no one s lookin ." 
 
 "I ve got some men on the next floor," I said. "I 
 thought it would be just as well to have a few 
 
AN ECHO OF WARNING 181 
 
 around in case of emergencies. I ll have two of them 
 out, and send Porter to reconnoiter." 
 
 "Who told you to git your men together ?" 
 
 "A little idea of my own." 
 
 "You ve got some sense, after all." 
 
 The reinforcements were soon ready to take or 
 ders, and Porter returned to bring word that no sus 
 picious person was in sight in the street. 
 
 "I reckon I d best go, then," said Mother Borton. 
 "I don t want no knife in me jest yit, but if there s 
 no one to see me I m all right." 
 
 I pressed Mother Borton to take two of my men 
 as escort, but she sturdily refused. 
 
 "They d know something was up if I was to go 
 around that way, and I d be a bloody ghost as soon 
 as they could ketch me alone," she said. "Well, 
 good night or is it mornin ? And do take keer of 
 yourself, dearie." And, so saying, Mother Borton 
 muffled herself up till it was hard to tell whether she 
 was man or woman, and trudged away. 
 
 Whatever designs were brewing in the night- 
 meeting of the conspirators, they did not appear to 
 concern my immediate peace of body. The two fol 
 lowing days were spent in quiet, and, in spite of 
 warnings, I began to believe that no new plan of 
 action had been determined on. 
 
 "Don t you feel too sure of yourself," said Dicky 
 Nahl, to whom I confided this view of the situation, 
 "You won t feel so funny about it if you get prodded 
 in the ribs with a bowie some dark night, or find 
 
1 82 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 your head wrapped up in a blanket when you think 
 you re just taking a passy-ar in Washington 
 Square in the evening." 
 
 Dicky looked very much in earnest, and his bright 
 and airy manner was gone for the moment. 
 
 "You seem to get along well enough with them," 
 I suggested tartly, remembering Mother Borton s 
 stories with some suspicion. 
 
 "Of course," said Dicky. "Why shouldn t I? 
 They re all right if you don t rub the fur the wrong 
 way. But I haven t got state secrets in my pockets, 
 so they know it s no use to pick em." 
 
 I was not at all sure of Dicky s fidelity, in spite of 
 his seeming earnestness, but I forbore to mention 
 my doubts, and left the garrulous young man to go 
 his way while I turned to the office that had been 
 furnished by Doddridge Knapp. I hardly expected 
 to meet the King of the Street. He had, I supposed, 
 returned to the city, but he had set Wednesday as 
 the day for resuming operations in the market, and 
 I did not think that he would be found here on 
 Monday. 
 
 The room was cold and cheerless, and the dingy 
 ,books in law-calf appeared to gaze at me in mute 
 protest as I looked about me. 
 
 The doors that separated me from Doddridge 
 Knapp s room were shut and locked. What was be 
 hind them? I wondered. Was there anything in 
 Doddridge Knapp s room that bore on the mystery 
 of the hidden boy, or would give the clue to the 
 
AN ECHO OF WARNING 183 
 
 murder of Henry Wilton ? As I gazed on the panels 
 the questions became more and more insistent. Was 
 it not my duty to find the answer ? The task brought 
 my mind to revolt. Yet the thought grew on me 
 that it was necessary to my task. If vengeance was 
 to be mine; if Doddridge Knapp was to pay the 
 penalty of the gallows for the death of Henry Wil 
 ton, it must be by the evidence that I should wrest 
 from him and his tools. I must not stop at rummag 
 ing papers, nor at listening at keyholes. I had just 
 this morning secured the key that would fit the first 
 door. I had taken the impression of the lock and had 
 it made without definite purpose, but now I was 
 ready to act. 
 
 With a sinking heart but a clear head I put the key 
 cautiously to the lock and gently turned it. The key 
 fitted perfectly, and the bolt flew back as it made the 
 circle. I opened the door into the middle room. The 
 second door, as I expected, was closed. Would the 
 same key fit the second lock, or must I wait to have 
 another made? I advanced to the second door and 
 was about to try the key when a sound from behind it 
 turned my blood to water. 
 
 Beyond that door, from the room I had supposed 
 to be empty, I heard a groan. 
 
 I stood as if* petrified, and, in the broad daylight 
 that streamed in at the window, with the noise and 
 rush of Clay Street ringing in my ears, I felt my 
 hair rise as though I had come on a ghost. I lis 
 tened a minute or more, but heard nothing. 
 
184 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "Nonsense!" I thought to myself; "it was a trick 
 of the imagination." 
 
 I raised my hand once more to the lock, when the 
 sound broke again, louder, unmistakable. It was 
 the voice of one in distress of body or mind. 
 
 What was it ? Could it be some prisoner of Dodd- 
 ridge Knapp s, brought hither by the desperate band 
 that owned him as employer? Was it a man whom 
 I might succor? Or was it Doddridge Knapp him 
 self, overwhelmed by recollection and remorse, do 
 ing penance in solitude for the villainy he had done 
 and dared not confess? I listened with all my ears. 
 Then there came through the door the low, stern 
 tones of a man s voice speaking earnestly, plead 
 ingly, threateningly, but in a suppressed monotone. 
 
 Then the groan broke forth again, and it was fol 
 lowed by sobs and choked sounds, as of one who pro 
 tested, yet, strangely, the voice was the same. There 
 was one man, not two. It was self-accusation, self- 
 excuse, and the sobs seemed to come in answer to 
 self-reproaches. 
 
 Then there was sound as of a man praying, and 
 the prayer was broken by sobs ; and again I thought 
 there were two men. And then there was noise of a 
 man moving about, and a long smothered groan, as 
 of one in agony of spirit. Fearful that the door 
 might be flung open in my face, I tiptoed back to my 
 room, and silently turned the key, as thoroughly 
 mystified as ever I had been in the strange events 
 that had crowded my life since I had entered the city. 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 IN A FOREIGN LAND 
 
 I stood long by my own door, irresolute, listening, 
 hoping, fearing, my brain throbbing with the effort 
 to seize some clue to the maze of mysteries in 
 which I was entangled. Was the clue behind those 
 locked doors? Did the man whose groans and 
 prayers had startled me hold the heart of the mys 
 tery? 
 
 The groans and prayers, if they continued, could 
 be heard no longer through the double doors, and I 
 seated myself by the desk and took account of the 
 events that had brought me to my present position. 
 
 Where did I stand? What had I accomplished? 
 What had I learned? How was I to reach the end 
 for which I struggled and bring to justice the slayer, 
 of my murdered friend? As I passed in review the 
 occurrences that had crowded the few weeks since 
 my arrival, I was compelled to confess that I knew 
 little more of the mysteries that surrounded me than 
 on the night I arrived. I knew that I was tossed be 
 tween two opposing forces. I knew that a mysteri 
 ous boy was supposed to be under my protection, 
 and that to gain and keep possession of him my life 
 
 185 
 
i86 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 was sought and defended. I knew that Doddridge 
 Knapp had caused the murder of Henry Wilton, and 
 yet for some unfathomable reason gave me his con 
 fidence and employment under the belief that I was 
 Henry Wilton. But I had been able to get no hint 
 of who the boy might be, or where he was concealed, 
 or who was the hidden woman who employed me to 
 protect him, or why he was sought by Doddridge 
 Knapp. Mother Borton s vague hints seemed little 
 better than guess-work. If she knew the name of the 
 boy and the identity of the woman, she had some 
 good reason for concealing them. It flashed over my 
 mind that Mother Borton might herself be the mys 
 terious employer. I had never yet seen a line of her 
 handwriting, and the notes might have come from 
 her. It was she who first had told me that my men 
 were already paid, and a few hours later I had found 
 the note from my employer assuring me that the de 
 mands were fully settled. Could it be that she was 
 the woman with whom Doddridge Knapp was bat 
 tling with a desperate purpose that did not stop at 
 murder? The idea was gone as soon as it came. It 
 was preposterous to suppose that these two could 
 feel so overwhelming an interest in the same child. 
 
 How long I sat by the desk waiting, thinking, 
 planning, I know not. One scheme of action after 
 another I had considered and rejected, when a sound 
 broke on my listening ears. I started up in fever 
 ish anxiety. It was from the room beyond, and I 
 stole toward the door to learn what it might mean. 
 
IN A FOREIGN LAND 187 
 
 Again it came, but, strain as I might, I could not de 
 termine its cause. What could be going on in the 
 locked office? If two men were there was it a per 
 sonal encounter? If one man, was he doing violence 
 upon himself? Was the heart of the mystery to be 
 found behind those doors if I had the courage to 
 throw them open ? Burning with impatience, I thrust 
 aside the fears of the evil that might follow hasty 
 action. I had drawn the key and raised it once more 
 to the slot, when I heard a step in the middle room. 
 I had but time to retreat to my desk when a key was 
 fitted in the lock, the door was flung open, and Dodd- 
 ridge Knapp stepped calmly into the room. 
 
 "Ah, Wilton," said the King of the Street affably. 
 "I was wondering if I should find you here." 
 
 There was no trace of surprise or agitation in the 
 face before me. If this was the man whose prayers 
 and groans and sobs had come to me through the 
 locked door, if he had wrestled with his conscience 
 or even had been the accusing conscience of another, 
 his face was a mask that showed no trace of the 
 agony of thoughts that might contort the spirit be 
 neath it. 
 
 "I was attending to a little work of my own," I 
 answered, after greeting. If I felt much like a dis 
 concerted pickpocket I was careful to conceal the 
 circumstance, and spoke with easy indifference. 
 "You have come back before I expected you," I con 
 tinued carelessly. 
 
 "Yes," said the King of the Street with equal 
 
i88 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 carelessness. "Some family affairs called me home 
 sooner than I had thought to come." 
 
 I had an inward start. Mrs. Knapp s troubled 
 look, Mrs. Bowser s confusion, and the few words 
 that had passed, returned to me. What was the con 
 nection between them ? 
 
 "Mrs. Knapp is not ill, I trust?" I ventured. 
 
 "Oh, no." 
 
 "Nor Miss Knapp?" 
 
 "Oh, all are well at the house, but sometimes you 
 know women-folks get nervous." 
 
 Was it possible that Mrs. Knapp had sent for her 
 husband ? What other meaning could I put on these 
 words ? But before I could pursue my investigations 
 further along this line, the wolf came co the surface, 
 and he waved the subject aside with a growl. 
 
 "But this is nothing to you. What you want to 
 know is that I won t need you before Wednesday, 
 if then." 
 
 "Does the campaign reopen ?" I asked. 
 
 "If you don t mind, Wilton," said the Wolf with 
 another growl, "I ll keep my plans till I m ready to 
 use them." 
 
 "Certainly," I retorted. "But maybe you would 
 feel a little interest to know that Rosenheim and 
 Bashford have gathered in about a thousand shares 
 of Omega in the last four or five days." 
 
 Doddridge Knapp gave me a keen glance. 
 
 "There were no sales of above a hundred shares," 
 he said. 
 
IN A FOREIGN LAND 189 
 
 "No most of them ran from ten to fifty shares." 
 
 "Well," he continued, looking fixedly at me, "you 
 know something about Rosenheim?" 
 
 "If it won t interfere with your plans," I sug 
 gested apologetically. 
 
 The Wolf drew back his lips over his fangs, and 
 then turned the snarl into a smile. 
 
 "Go on," he said, waving amends for the snub he 
 had administered. 
 
 "Well, I don t know much about Rosenheim, but 
 I caught him talking with Decker." 
 
 "Were the stocks transferred to Decker?" 
 
 "No; they stand to Rosenheim, trustee." 
 
 "Well, Wilton, they ve stolen a march on us, but 
 I reckon we ll give em a surprise before they re 
 quite awake." 
 
 "And," I continued coolly, "Decker s working up 
 a deal in Crown Diamond and toying a little with 
 Confidence you gave me a week to find out, you 
 may remember." 
 
 "Very good, Wilton," said the King of the Street 
 with grudging approval. "We ll sell old Decker 
 quite a piece of Crown Diamond before he gets 
 through. And now is there anything more in your 
 pack?" 
 
 "It s empty," I confessed. 
 
 "Well, you may go then." 
 
 I was puzzled to know why Doddridge Knapp 
 should wish to get me out of the office. Was there 
 some secret locked in his room that he feared I 
 
190 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 might surprise if I stayed ? I looked at him sharply, 
 but there was nothing to be read on that impassive 
 face. 
 
 Docldridge Knapp followed me to the door, and 
 stood on the threshold as I walked down the hall. 
 There was no chance for spying or listening at key 
 holes, if I were so inclined, and it was not until I 
 had reached the bottom stair that I thought I heard 
 the sound of a closing door behind me. 
 
 As I stood at the entrance, almost oblivious of 
 the throng that was hurrying up and down Clay 
 Street, Porter joined me. 
 
 "Did you see him?" he asked. 
 
 "Him? Who?" 
 
 "Why, Tom Terrill sneaked down those stairs a 
 little bit ago, and I thought you might have found 
 him up there." 
 
 Could it be possible that this man had been with 
 Doddridge Knapp, and that it was his voice I had 
 heard ? This in turn seemed improbable, hardly pos 
 sible. 
 
 "There he is now," whispered Porter. 
 
 I turned my eyes in the direction he indicated, 
 and a shock ran through me; for my eye had met 
 the eye of a serpent. Yes, there again was the cruel, 
 keen face, and the glittering, repulsive eye, filled 
 with malice and hatred, that I had beheld with loath 
 ing and dread whenever it had come in my path. 
 With an evil glance Terrill turned and made off in 
 the crowd. 
 
IN A FOREIGN LAND 191 
 
 "Follow that man, Wainwright," said I to the 
 second guard, who was close at hand. "Watch him 
 to-night and report to me to-morrow." 
 
 I wondered what could be the meaning of Terrill s 
 visit to the building. Was it to see Doddridge Knapp 
 and get his orders ? Or was it to follow up some new 
 plan to wrest from me the secret I was supposed to 
 hold? But there was no answer to these questions, 
 and I turned toward my room to prepare for the ex 
 cursion that had been set for the evening. 
 
 It was with hope and fear that I took my way to 
 the Pine Street palace. It was my fear that was 
 realized. Mrs. Bowser fell to my lot indeed, I may 
 say that I was surrounded by her in force, and sur 
 rendered unconditionally while Luella joined Mr. 
 Carter, and Mrs. Carter with Mr. Horton followed. 
 
 Corson was waiting for us at the old City Hall. I 
 had arranged \vith the policeman that he should act 
 as our guide, and had given him Porter and Bark- 
 house as assistants in case any should be needed. 
 
 "A fine night for it, sor," said Corson in greeting. 
 "There s a little celebration goin on among the 
 haythens to-night, so you ll see em at their best." 
 
 "Oh, how sweet!" gushed Mrs. Bowser. "Is it 
 that dear China New Year that I ve heard tell on, 
 and do they take you in to dinner at every place you 
 call, and do they really eat rats? Ugh, the horrid 
 things!" And Mrs. Bowser pulled up short in mid 
 career. 
 
 "No, ma am," said Corson, "leastways it ain t 
 
192 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 Chancy New Year for a couple of months yet. As 
 for eatin rats, there s many a thing gets eaten up 
 in the dens that would be better by bein turned into 
 a rat." 
 
 Looking across the dark shrubbery of Portsmouth 
 Square and up Washington Street, the eye could 
 catch a line of gay-colored lanterns, swaying in the 
 light wind, and casting a mellow glow on buildings 
 and walks. 
 
 "Oh, isn t it sweet! So charming!" cried Mrs. 
 Bowser, as we came into full view of the scene and 
 crossed the invisible line that carries one from 
 modern San Francisco into the ancient oriental city, 
 instinct with foreign life, that goes by the name of 
 Chinatown. Sordid and foul as it appears by day 
 light, there was a charm and romance to it under the 
 lantern-lights that softened the darkness. Windows 
 and doors were illuminated. Brown, flat-nosed 
 men in loose clothing gathered in groups and dis 
 cussed their affairs in a strange singsong tongue 
 and high-pitched voices. Here, was the sound of the 
 picking of the Chinese banjo-fiddle; there, we heard 
 a cracked voice singing a melancholy song in the 
 confusion of minor keys that may pass for imisic 
 among the brown men ; there, again, a gong with tin- 
 pan accompaniment assisted to reconcile the Chinese 
 to the long intervals between holidays. Crowds hur 
 ried along the streets, loitered at corners, gathered 
 about points of interest, but it seemed as though 
 it was all one man repeated over and over. 
 
IN A FOREIGN LAND 193 
 
 "Why, they re all alike !" exclaimed Mrs. Bowser. 
 "How do they ever tell each other apart?" 
 
 "Oh, that s aisy enough, ma am," replied Corson 
 w r ith a twinkle in his eye. "They tie a knot in their 
 pigtails, and that s the way you know em." 
 
 "Laws! you don t say!" said Mrs. Bowser, much 
 impressed. "I never could tell em that way." 
 
 "It is a strange resemblance," said Mr. Carter. 
 "Don t you find it almost impossible to distinguish 
 between them ?" 
 
 "To tell you the truth, sor, no," said Corson. "It s 
 a trick of the eye with you, sor. If you was to be 
 here with em for a month or two you d niver think 
 there was two of em alike. There s as much differ 
 ence betwixt one and another as with any two white 
 men. I was loike you at first. I says to meself that 
 they re as like as two pease. But, now, look at those 
 two mugs there in that door. They re no more alike 
 than you and me, as Mr. Wilton here can tell you, 
 
 sor." 
 
 The difference between the two Chinese failed to 
 impress me, but I was mindful of my reputation as 
 an old resident. 
 
 "Oh, yes; a very marked contrast," I said 
 promptly, just as I would have sworn that they 
 were twins if Corson had suggested it. 
 
 "Very remarkable !" said Mr. Carter dubiously. 
 
 In and out we wound through the oriental city 
 the fairy-land that stretched away, gay with lanterns 
 and busy with strange crowds, changing at times 
 
194 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 as we came nearer to a tawdry reality, cheap, dirty, 
 and heavy with odors. Here was a shop where 
 ivory in delicate carvings, bronze work that showed 
 the patient handicraft and grotesque fancy of the ori 
 ental artist, lay side by side with porcelains, fine and 
 coarse, decorated with the barbaric taste in form 
 and color that rules the art of the ancient empire. 
 Beyond, were carved cabinets of ebony and sandal- 
 wood, rich brocades and soft silks and the pro 
 prietor sang the praises of his wares and reduced 
 his estimate of their value with each step we took 
 toward the door. Next the rich shop was a low 
 den from whose open door poured fumes of tobacco 
 and opium, and in whose misty depths figures of 
 bloused little men huddled around tables and swayed 
 hither and thither. The click of dominoes, the rat 
 tling of sticks and counters, and the excited cries 
 of men, rose from the throng. 
 
 "They re the biggest gamblers the Ould Nick iver 
 had to his hand," said Corson; "there isn t one of 
 em down there that wouldn t bet the coat off his 
 back." 
 
 "Dear me, how dreadful !" said Mrs. Bowser. 
 "And do we have to go down into that horrible hole, 
 and how can we ever get out with our lives ?" 
 
 "We re not going down there, ma am," inter 
 rupted Corson shortly. 
 
 "And where next?" asked Luella. 
 
 The question was addressed to the policeman, not 
 to me. Except for a formal greeting when we had 
 
IN A FOREIGN LAND 195 
 
 met, Luella had spoken no word to me during the 
 evening. 
 
 "Here s the biggest joss-house in town," said 
 Corson. "We might as well see it now as any time." 
 
 "Oh, do let us see those delightfully horrible 
 idols," cried Mrs. Bowser. "But," she added, with 
 a sudden access of alarm at some recollection of the 
 reading of her school-days, "do they cut people s 
 hearts out before the wicked things right in the mid 
 dle of the city?" 
 
 The policeman assured her that the appetite of the 
 joss for gore remained unsatisfied, and led the \vay 
 into the dimly-lighted building that served as a 
 temple. 
 
 I lingered a moment by the door to see that all my 
 party passed in. 
 
 "There s Wainwright," whispered Porter, who 
 closed the procession. 
 
 "Where?" I asked, a dim remembrance of the mis 
 sion on which I had sent him in pursuit of the snake- 
 eyed man giving the information a sinister twist. 
 
 Porter gave a chirrup, and Wainwright halted at 
 the door. 
 
 "He s just passed up the alley here," said Wain 
 wright in a low voice. 
 
 "Who? Terrill?" I asked. 
 
 "Yes," said Wainwright. "I ve kept him in sight 
 all the evening." 
 
 "Hasn t he seen you?" asked Porter. "I spied you 
 as soon as you turned the corner." 
 
196 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "Don t know," said Wainwright; "but some 
 thing s up. There he goes now. I mustn t miss him." 
 And Wainwright darted off. 
 
 I looked searchingly in the direction he took, but 
 could see no sign of the snake-eyed enemy, 
 
 The presence of Terrill gave me some tremors of 
 anxiety, for I knew that his unscrupulous ferocity 
 would stop at nothing. I feared for the moment that 
 some violence might threaten the party, and that 
 perhaps Luella was in danger. Then I reflected 
 that the presence of Doddridge Knapp s daughter 
 was a protection against an attack from Doddridge 
 Knapp s agents, and I followed the party into the 
 heathen temple without further apprehensions. 
 
 The temple was small, and even in the dim, re 
 ligious light that gave an air of mystery to the ugly 
 figure of the god and the trappings of the place, the 
 whole appeared cheap a poor representative of the 
 majesty of a religion that claims the devotion of 
 four hundred million human beings. 
 
 "That s one of the richest carvings ever brought 
 into this country," said Corson, pointing to a part 
 of the altar mounting. "Tin thousand dollars 
 wouldn t touch one side of it." 
 
 "You don t say!" cried Mrs. Bowser, while the 
 rest murmured in the effort to admire the work of 
 art. "And is that stuff burning for a disinfectant?" 
 
 She pointed to numerous pieces of punk, such as 
 serve the small boy on the Fourth of July, that were 
 consuming slowly before the ugly joss. 
 
IN A FOREIGN LAND 197 
 
 "No, ma am not but they needs it all right 
 enough," said Corson, "but that s the haythen way 
 of sayin your prayers." 
 
 This information was so astonishing that Corson 
 was allowed to finish his explanation without further 
 remarks from Mrs. Bowser. 
 
 Til show you the theater next," said he, as he 
 led the way out of the temple with Mrs. Bowser 
 giving her views of the picturesque heathen in ques 
 tions that Corson found no break in the conversa 
 tion long enough to answer. As I lingered for a mo 
 ment in some depression of spirit, waiting for the 
 others to file out, a voice that thrilled me spoke in 
 my ear. 
 
 "Our guide is enjoying a great favor." It w r as Lu- 
 ella, noticing me for the first time since the expedi 
 tion had started. 
 
 " He has every reason to be delighted," I returned, 
 brightening at the favor I was enjoying. 
 
 "Foreign travel is said to be of great value in 
 education," said Luella, taking my arm, "but it s 
 certainly stupid at times." 
 
 I suspected that Mr. Carter had not been entirely 
 successful in meeting Miss Knapp s ideas of what an 
 escort should be. 
 
 "I didn t suppose you could find anything stupid," 
 I said. 
 
 "I am intensely interested," she retorted, "but un 
 fortunately the list of subjects has come to an end." 
 
 "You might have begun at the beginning again." 
 
198 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "He did," she whispered, "so I thought it time he 
 tried the guide or Aunt Julia." 
 
 "Thank you," I said. 
 
 "Thank him, you mean," she said gaily. "Now 
 don t be stupid yourself, so please change the sub 
 ject. Do you know," she continued without giving 
 me time to speak, "that the only way I can be rec 
 onciled to this place and the sights we have seen 
 is to imagine I am in Canton or Peking, thousands 
 of miles from home? Seen there, it is interesting, 
 instructive, natural a part of their people. As a 
 part of San Francisco it is only vile." 
 
 "Ugh!" said I, as a whiff from an underground 
 den floated up on the night air, and Luella caught 
 her handkerchief to her face to get her breath. "I m 
 not sure that this rose would smell any sweeter by the 
 name of Canton." 
 
 "I m afraid your argument is too practical for me 
 to answer," she laughed. "Yet I m certain it would 
 be more poetic seven thousand miles away." 
 
 "Come this way," said Corson, halting with the 
 party at one of the doors. "I ll show you through 
 some of the opium dens, and that will bring us to the 
 stage door of the theater." 
 
 "How close and heavy the air is !" said Luella, as 
 we followed the winding passage in the dim illumina 
 tion that came from an occasional gas-jet or oil 
 lamp. 
 
 "The yellow man is a firm believer in the motto, 
 Ventilation is the root of all evil, " I admitted. 
 
IN A FOREIGN LAND 199 
 
 The fumes of tobacco and opium were heavy on 
 the air, and a moment later we came on a cluster 
 of small rooms or dens, fitted with couches and 
 bunks. It needed no description to make the purpose 
 plain. The whole process of intoxication by opium 
 was before me, from the heating of the metal pipe 
 to the final stupor that is the gift and end of the 
 Black Smoke. Here, was a coolie mixing the drug ; 
 there, just beyond him, was another, drawing whiffs 
 from the bubbling narcotic through the bamboo 
 handle of his pipe; there, still beyond, was another, 
 lying back unconscious, half-clad, repulsive, a very 
 sorry reality indeed to the gorgeous dreams that 
 are reputed to follow in the train of the seductive 
 pipe. 
 
 "Do they really allow them to smoke that dread 
 ful stuff?" asked Mrs. Bowser shrilly. "Why, I 
 should think the governor, or the mayor, or you, 
 Mr. Policeman, would stop the awful thing right 
 off. Now, why don t you?" 
 
 "Oh, it s no harm to the haythen," said Corson. 
 "It s death and destruction to the white man, but it s 
 no more to the yellow man than so much tobacco and 
 whiskey. They ll be all right to-morrow. We niver^ 
 touches em unless they takes the whites into their 
 dens. Then we raids em. But there s too much of 
 it goin on, for all that." 
 
 "This is depressing," said Luella, with a touch on 
 my arm. "Let s go on." 
 
 "Turn to the right there/ Corson called out, as 
 
200 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 we led the way while he was explaining to Mr. Car 
 ter the method of smoking. 
 
 "Let us get where there is some air," said Luella. 
 "This odor is sickening." 
 
 We hastened on, and, turning to the right, soon 
 came on two passages. One led up a stair, hidden 
 by a turn after half a dozen steps. The other 
 stretched fifty or seventy-five feet before us, and an 
 oil lamp on a bracket at the farther end gave a 
 smoky light to the passage and to a mean little court 
 on which it appeared to open. 
 
 "We had better wait for the rest," said Luella 
 cautiously. 
 
 As she spoke, one of the doors toward the farther 
 end of the passage swung back, and a tall heavy 
 figure came out. My heart gave a great bound, and 
 I felt without realizing it at the moment, that Luella 
 clutched my arm fiercely. 
 
 In the dim light the figure was the figure of the 
 Wolf, the head was the head of the Wolf, and 
 though no light shone upon it, the face was the face 
 of the Wolf, livid, distorted with anger, fear and 
 brutal passions. 
 
 "Doddridge Knapp!" I exclaimed, and gave a 
 step forward. 
 
 It flashed on me that one mystery was explained. 
 I had found out why the Doddridge Knapp of plot 
 and counterplot, and the Doddridge Knapp who was 
 the generous and confidential employer, could dwell 
 in the same body. The King of the Street was a 
 
IN A FOREIGN LAND 201 
 
 slave of the Black Smoke, and, like many another, 
 went mad under the influence of the subtle drug. 
 
 As I moved forward, Luella clung to me and gave 
 a low cry. The Wolf figure threw one malignant 
 look at us and was gone. 
 
 "Take me home, oh, take me home!" cried Luella 
 in low suppressed tones, trembling and half-falling. 
 I put my arm about her to support her. 
 
 "What is it?" I asked. 
 
 She leaned upon me for one moment, and the 
 black walls and gloomy passage became a palace 
 filled with flowers. Then her strength and resolution 
 returned, and she shook herself free. 
 
 "Come; let us go back to the others," she said a 
 little unsteadily. "We should not have left them." 
 
 "Certainly," I replied. "They ought to be here by 
 this time." 
 
 But as we turned, a sudden cry sounded as of an 
 order given. There was a bang of wood and a click 
 of metal, and, as we looked, we saw that unseen 
 hands had closed the way to our return. A barred 
 and iron-bound door was locked in our faces. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THE BATTLE IN THE MAZE 
 
 For an instant I was overwhelmed with terror and 
 self-reproach. The bolted door before me gave notice 
 of danger as plainly as though the word had been 
 painted upon its front. The dark and lowering walls 
 of the passage in which the Wolf figure of Dodd- 
 ridge Knapp had appeared and disappeared whis 
 pered threats. The close air was heavy with the 
 suggestion of peril, and the solitary lamp that gave 
 its dim light from the end of the passage flashed a 
 smoky warning. And I, in my folly and carelessness, 
 had brought Luella Knapp into this place and ex 
 posed her to the dangers that encircled me. It was 
 this thought that, for the moment, unnerved me. 
 
 "What does this mean ?" asked Luella in a matter- 
 of-fact tone. 
 
 "It is a poor practical joke, I fear," said I lightly. 
 I took occasion to shift a revolver to my overcoat 
 pocket. 
 
 "Well, aren t you going to get me out of here?" 
 she asked with a little suggestion of impatience. 
 
 "That is my present intention," I replied, beating 
 a tattoo on the door. 
 
 202 
 
THE BATTLE IN THE MAZE 203 
 
 "You ll hurt your fists/ she said. "You must 
 find some way besides beating it down." 
 
 "I m trying to bring our friends here," said I. 
 "They should have been with us before now." 
 
 "Isn t there another way out?" asked Luella. 
 
 "I suspect there are a good many ways out," I 
 replied, "but, unfortunately, I don t know them." 
 And I gave a few resounding kicks on the door. 
 
 "Where does this stairway go, I wonder?" said 
 Luella. 
 
 "Into the celestial regions, I suppose," I ventured. 
 
 Matters were in too serious a position for the jest 
 to be appreciated, and Luella continued : 
 
 "It can t be the way out. Isn t there another?" 
 
 "We might try the passage." 
 
 She gave a shudder and shrank toward mCo 
 
 "No, no," she cried in a low voice. "Try the door 
 again. Somebody must hear you, and it may be 
 opened." 
 
 I followed her suggestion with a rain of kicks, 
 emphasized with a shout that made the echoes ring 
 gloomily in the passage. 
 
 I heard in reply a sound of voices, and then an 
 answering shout, and the steps of men running. 
 
 "Are you there, Mr. Wilton?" cried the voice of 
 Corson through the door. 
 
 "Yes, all safe," I answered. 
 
 "Well, just hold on a bit, and we ll" 
 
 The rest of his sentence was lost in a suppressed 
 scream from Luella. I turned and darted before her, 
 
204 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 just in time to face three Chinese ruffians who were 
 hastening down the passage. The nearest of the trio, 
 a tall dark savage with a deep scar across his cheek, 
 was just reaching out his hand to seize Luella when 
 I sprang forward and planted a blow square upon 
 his chin. He fell back heavily, lifted almost off his 
 feet by my impact, and lay like a log on the floor. 
 
 The other two ruffians halted irresolute for an 
 instant, and I drew my revolver. In the faint light of 
 the passage I could scarcely see their villainous faces. 
 The countenance of the coolie is not expressive at 
 best, but I could feel, rather than see, the stolid 
 rascality of their appearance. Their wish seemed to 
 be to take me alive if possible. After a moment of 
 hesitation there was a muttered exclamation and one 
 of the desperadoes drew his hand from his blouse. 
 
 "Oh !" cried Luella. "He s got a knife !" 
 
 Before he could make another movement I fired 
 once, twice, three times. There was a scramble and 
 scuffle in the passageway, and the smoke rolled thick 
 in front, blotting out the scene that had stood in 
 silhouette before us. 
 
 Fearful of a rush from the Chinese, I threw one 
 arm about Luella, and, keeping my body between her 
 and possible attack, guided her to the stair that led 
 upward at nearly right angles from the passage. 
 She was trembling and her breath came short, but 
 her spirit had not quailed. She shook herself free as 
 I placed her on the first step. 
 
 "Have you killed them?" she asked quietly. 
 
THE BATTLE IN THE MAZE 205 
 
 "I hope so," I replied, looking cautiously around 
 the corner to see the results of my fusillade. The 
 smoke had spread into a thin haze through the pass 
 age. 
 
 "There s one fellow there," I said. "But it s the 
 one I knocked down." 
 
 "Can t you see the others?" inquired Luella. 
 
 "No more in sight," said I, after a bolder survey. 
 "They ve run away." 
 
 "Oh, I m glad," said Luella. "I should have seen 
 them always if you had killed them." 
 
 "I shouldn t have minded giving them something 
 to remember," said I, vexed at my poor display of 
 marksmanship, but feeling an innate conviction that 
 I must have hit them. 
 
 "What on earth did they attack us for ?" exclaimed 
 Luella indignantly. "We hadn t hurt anything." 
 
 Before I could reply to Luella s question, a tattoo 
 was beaten upon the door and a muffled shout came 
 from the other side. I stepped down from the stair 
 to listen. 
 
 "Are you hurt?" shouted Corson. "What s the 
 matter?" 
 
 "No damage," I returned. "I drove them off." 
 
 Corson shouted some further words, but they were 
 lost in a sudden murmur of voices and a scuffle of 
 feet that arose behind. 
 
 "Look out!" cried Luella peremptorily. "Come 
 back here!" 
 
 I have said that the passage opened into a little 
 
206 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 court, and at the end a lamp gave light to the court 
 and the passage. 
 
 As I turned I saw a confusion of men pouring into 
 the open space and heading for the passage. They 
 were evidently Chinese, but in the gleam of the 
 lamp I was sure I saw the evil face and snake-eyes 
 of Tom Terrill. He was wrapped in the Chinese 
 blouse, but I could not be mistaken. Then with a 
 chorus of yells there was the crack of a pistol, and a 
 bullet struck the door close to my ear. 
 
 It was all done in an instant. Before the sound 
 of the shot I dropped, and then made a leap for the 
 stair. 
 
 "Oh!" cried Luella anxiously; "were you hit?" 
 
 "No, I m all right," I said, "but it was a close 
 shave. The gang means mischief." 
 
 "Go up the stairs, and find a way out or a place to 
 hide," said Luella excitedly. "Give me the pistol. 
 They won t hurt me. It s you they re after. Go, 
 
 now." 
 
 Her tone was the tone of the true daughter of 
 the Wolf. 
 
 "Thank you, Miss Knapp. I have a pressing en 
 gagement here with a lady, and I expect to meet 
 Mr. Corson in a few minutes." 
 
 I stooped on an impulse and kissed the back of her 
 gloved hand, and murmured, "I couldn t think of 
 leaving." 
 
 "Well, tell me something I can do," she said. 
 
 I gave her my smaller revolver. 
 
THE BATTLE IN THE MAZE 207 
 
 "Hand that to me when I want it," I said. "If I m 
 killed, get up the stairs and defend yourself with it. 
 Don t fire unless you have to. We are short of 
 ammunition." I had but three shots in the large six- 
 shooter. 
 
 "Are they coming?" asked Luella, as the wild 
 tumult of shouts stilled for a moment and a single 
 voice could be heard. 
 
 I peered cautiously around the corner. 
 
 "There s a gentleman in a billycock hat who s 
 rather anxious to have them lead the way/ I said; 
 "but they seem to prefer listening to fighting." 
 
 The gentleman whose voice was for war I dis 
 covered to be my snake-eyed friend. He seemed to 
 be having difficulty with the language, and was eking 
 out his Pidgin-English with pantomime. 
 
 "There!" cried Luella with a start; "what s that?" 
 
 A heavy blow shook the walls of the building and 
 sounded through the passage. 
 
 "Good !" I said. "If our friends yonder are going 
 to make trouble they must do it at once. Corson s 
 got an ax, and the door will be down first they 
 know." 
 
 "Thank Heaven!" whispered Luella. And then 
 she began to tremble. 
 
 The blows followed fast upon each other, but sud 
 denly they were drowned in a chorus of yells, and 
 a volley of revolver shots sent the bullets spatting 
 against the door. 
 
 "Look out, Miss Knapp," I said. "They re com- 
 
208 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 ing. Stand close behind me, and crouch down if 
 they get this far." 
 
 I could feel her straighten and brace herself once 
 more behind me as I bent cautiously around the cor 
 ner. 
 
 The band was advancing with a frightful din, but 
 was making more noise than speed. Evidently it 
 had little heart for its job. 
 
 I looked into the yelling mob for the snake-eyed 
 agent of Doddridge Knapp, but could not single him 
 out. 
 
 I dared wait no longer. Aiming at the foremost I 
 fired twice at the advancing assailants. There were 
 shouts and screams of pain in answer, and the line 
 hesitated. I gave them the remaining cartridge, and, 
 seizing the smaller weapon from Luella, fired as 
 rapidly as I could pull the trigger. 
 
 The effect was instantaneous. With a succession 
 of howls and curses the band broke and ran all 
 save one man, who leaped swiftly forward with a 
 long knife in his hand. 
 
 It would have gone hard with me if he had ever 
 reached me, for he was a large and powerful fellow, 
 and my last shot was gone. But in the dark and 
 smoky passage he stumbled over the prostrate body 
 of the first desperado whom I had been fortunate 
 enough to knock down, and fell sprawling at full 
 length almost at my feet. 
 
 With one leap I was on his back, and with a blow 
 from the revolver I had quieted him, wrenched the 
 
THE BATTLE IN THE MAZE 209 
 
 knife from his hand, and had the point resting* on 
 his neck. 
 
 Luella gave a scream. 
 
 "Oh!" she cried, "are you hurt?" 
 
 "No," I said lightly, "but I don t think this gentle 
 man is feeling very well. He : likely to have a sore 
 head for a day or two." 
 
 "Come back here," said Luella in a peremptory 
 tone. "Those men may come again and shoot you." 
 
 "I don t think so," said I. "The door is coming 
 down . But, anyhow, I can t leave our friend here. 
 Lie still!" I growled, giving the captive a gentle 
 prod in the neck with the point of his knife to empha 
 size my desire to have peace and quiet between us. 
 
 I heard him swear under his breath. The words 
 were foreign, but there was no mistaking the senti 
 ment behind them. 
 
 "You aren t killing him are you?" inquired Luella 
 anxiously. 
 
 "I think it might be a service to the country," I 
 confessed, "but I ll save him for the hangman." 
 
 "You needn t speak so regretfully," laughed 
 Luella, with a little return of her former spirit. 
 "But here our people come." 
 
 The ax had been plied steadily on the stubborn 
 planks all through the conflict and its sequel. But 
 the iron-bound beams and heavy lock had been built 
 to resist police raids, and the door came down with 
 difficulty. 
 
 At last it was shaking and yielding, and almost 
 
210 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 as Luella spoke it swayed, bent apart, and broke 
 with a crash, and with a babel of shouts Corson, 
 Porter, Barkhouse and Wainwright, with two more 
 policemen, poured through the opening. 
 
 "Praise the powers, you re safe!" cried Corson, 
 wringing my hand, while the policemen took the 
 , prostrate Chinese in charge. "And is the young lady 
 hurt?" 
 
 1 "No harm done," said Luella. "Mr. Wilton is 
 quite a general." 
 
 "I can t think what s got into the scoundrelly 
 highbinders," said Corson apologetically. "It s the 
 first time I ever knew anything of the kind to hap 
 pen." And he went on to explain that while the 
 Chinese desperado is a devil to fight among his own 
 kind, he does not interfere with the white man. 
 
 I called my men aside and spoke sharply. 
 
 "You haven t obeyed orders," I said. "You, Por 
 ter, and you, Barkhouse, were to keep close by me 
 to-night. You didn t do it, and it s only by good luck 
 that the young lady and I were not killed. You, 
 Wainwright, were to follow Tom Terrill. I saw 
 Terrill just now in a gang of Chinese, and you turn 
 up on the other side of a barred door." 
 
 Porter and Barkhouse looked sheepish enough, but 
 Wainwright protested : 
 
 "I was following Terrill when he gets into a gang 
 of highbinders, and goes into one of these rooms 
 over here a ways. I waits a while for him, and then 
 starts to look around a bit, and first I knows, I runs 
 
THE BATTLE IN THE MAZE 211 
 
 up against Porter here hunting for an ax, and crazy 
 as a loon, saying as how you was murdered, and they 
 had got to save you/ 
 
 "Well, just keep close to me for the rest of the 
 night, and we ll say no more about it. There s no 
 great damage done nothing but a sore knuckle." 
 I was feeling now the return effects of my blow on 
 the coolie s chin. I felt too much in fault myself to 
 call my attendants very sharply to task. It was 
 through me that Luella had come into danger, and 
 I had to confess that I had failed in prudence and 
 had come near to paying dear for it. 
 
 "I don t understand this, Mr. Wilton," said Cor- 
 son in confidential perplexity. "I don t see why the 
 haythen were after yez." 
 
 "I saw I saw Tom Terrill," said I, stumbling 
 over the name of Doddridge Knapp. I determined 
 to keep the incident of his appearance to myself. 
 
 "I don t see how he worked it," said Corson with 
 a shake of the head. "They don t like to stand 
 against a white man. It s a quare tale he must have 
 told em, and a big sack he must have promised em 
 to bring em down on ye. Was it for killin ye they 
 was tryin , or was they for catchin yez alive?" 
 
 "They were trying to take us alive at first, I 
 think, but the bullets whistled rather close for com 
 fort." 
 
 "I was a little shaky myself, when they plunked 
 against the door," said Corson with a smile. 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Wilton," said Mrs. Bowser, "it was 
 
212 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 awful of you for it was so frightfully improper to 
 get behind that locked door, to say nothing of throw 
 ing us all into conniptions with firing guns, and call 
 ing for axes, and highbinders, and police, and 
 Heaven knows what all and what are highbinders, 
 Mr. Wilton ? And it s a blessing we have our dear 
 f Luella safe with us again. I was near fainting all 
 the time, and it s a mercy I had a smelling bottle." 
 
 "Dear Luella" looked distressed, and while Cor- 
 son was attempting to explain to Mrs. Bowser the 
 nature of the blackmailing bands of the Chinese 
 criminal element, Luella said : 
 
 "Please get us out of this. I can t stand it." 
 
 I had marveled at her calm amid the excited talk 
 of those about her, but I saw now that it was forced 
 by an effort of her will. She was sadly shaken. 
 
 "Take my arm," I said. "Mr. Corson will lead 
 the way." 1 signed to Porter to go ahead and to 
 Barkhouse and Wainwright to follow me. "It s 
 very close here." 
 
 "It s very ridiculous of me," said Luella, with an 
 hysterical laugh, "but I m a little upset." 
 
 "I dare say you re not used to it," I suggested 
 dryly. 
 
 Luella gave me a quick glance. 
 
 "No, are you ? It s not customary in our family," 
 she said with an attempt at gaiety. 
 
 I thought of the wolf-figure who had come out 
 of the opium-den, and the face framed in the lantern- 
 flash of the alley, and was silent. Perhaps the 
 
THE BATTLE IN THE MAZE 213 
 
 thought of the scene of the passage had come to her, 
 too, for she shuddered and quickened her step as 
 though to escape. 
 
 "Do you want to go through the theater?" asked 
 Corson. 
 
 "No no," whispered Luella, "get me home at 
 
 once." 
 
 "We have seen enough sights for the evening, I 
 believe," said I. 
 
 Mrs. Bowser was volubly regretful, but declined 
 Corson s offer to chaperon her through a night of 
 it. 
 
 On the way home Luella spoke not a word, but 
 Mrs. Bowser filled the time with a detailed account 
 of her emotions and sensations while Corson and his 
 men were searching for us and beating down the 
 door. And her tale was still growing when the car 
 riage pulled up before the bronze lions that guarded 
 the house of the Wolf, and I handed the ladies up 
 the steps. 
 
 At the door Luella held out her hand impulsively. 
 
 "I wish I knew whom to thank but I do thank 
 him for my safety perhaps for my life. Believe 
 me I am grateful to a brave man." 
 
 I felt the warm clasp of her fingers for a moment, 
 and then with a flash of her eyes that set my blood 
 on fire she was gone, and I was staggering down 
 Doddridge Knapp s steps in a tumult of emotions 
 that turned the dark city into the jeweled palaces of 
 the genii peopled with angels. 
 
214 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 But there was a bitter in the sweet. "I wish I 
 knew whom to thank." The bitter grew a little more 
 perceptible as her phrases stamped themselves on my 
 brain. I blessed and cursed at once the day that had 
 brought me to her. 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 r A DEAL IN STOCKS 
 
 The wolf- face, seamed with hatred and anger, and 
 hideous with evil passions, that had glowered for a 
 moment out of the smoky frame of the Chinese 
 den, was still haunting me as I forced myself once 
 more to return to the office. Wednesday morning 
 had come, and I was due to meet Doddridge Knapp. 
 But as I unlocked the door, I took some comfort in 
 the reflection that I could hardly be more unwilling 
 to meet the Wolf than he must be to meet me. 
 
 I had scarcely settled myself in my chair when I 
 heard the key turn in the lock. The door swung 
 open, and in walked Doddridge Knapp. 
 
 I had thought to find at least some trace of the 
 opium debauch through which I had gained the 
 clue to his strange and contradictory acts some 
 mark of the evil passions that had written their 
 story upon his face at the meeting in the passage. 
 But the face before me was a mask that showed no 
 sign of the experiences through which he had passed. 
 For all that appeared, he might have employed the 
 time since I had left here two days before in study 
 ing philosophy and cultivating peace and good-will 
 with his neighbors. 
 
 215 
 
216 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "Ah, Wilton/ he said affably, rubbing his hands 
 with a purring growl. "You re ready for a hard 
 day s work, I hope." 
 
 "Nothing would please me better," I said cheer 
 fully, my repugnance melting away with the mag 
 netism of his presence. "Is the black flag up to 
 day?" 
 
 He looked at me in surprise for an instant and 
 then growled, still in good humor : 
 
 " No quarter is the motto to-day." And I lis 
 tened closely as the King of the Street gave his or 
 ders for the morning. 
 
 I marveled at the openness and confidence with 
 which he seemed to treat me. There was no trace 
 nor suggestion in his demeanor to-day of the man 
 who sought my life by night. And I shuddered at 
 the power of the Black Smoke to change the nature 
 of this man to that of a demon. He trusted me 
 with secrets of his campaign that were worth mil 
 lions to the market. 
 
 "You understand now," he said at the end of his 
 orders, "that you are to sell all the Crown Diamond 
 that the market will take, and buy all the Omega 
 that you can get below one hundred." 
 
 "I understand." 
 
 "We ll feed Decker about as big a dose as he can 
 swallow, I reckon," said the King of the Street 
 grimly. 
 
 "One thing," I said, "I d like to know if I m the 
 only one operating for you," 
 
A DEAL IN STOCKS 217 
 
 The King of the Street drew his bushy brows 
 down over his eyes and scowled at me a moment. 
 
 "You re the only one in the big Board," he said 
 at last. "There are men in the other Boards, you 
 understand." 
 
 I thought I understood, and sallied forth for the 
 battle. At Doddridge Knapp s suggestion I ar 
 ranged to do my business through three brokers, and 
 added Lattimer and Hobart to Wallbridge, and 
 Bockstein and Eppner. 
 
 Bockstein greeted me affably : 
 
 "Velgome to de marget vonce more, Mr. , 
 Mr. " 
 
 "Wilton," said Eppner, assisting his partner in 
 his high, dry voice, with cold civility. His blue- 
 black eyes regarded me as but a necessary part of the 
 machinery of commerce. 
 
 I gave my orders briefly. 
 
 "Dot is a larch order," said Bockstein dubiously. 
 
 "You don t have to take it," I was about to retort, 
 when Eppner s high-pitched voice interrupted : 
 
 "It s all right. The customary margin is enough." 
 
 Wallbridge was more enthusiastic. 
 
 "You ve come just in the nick of time," said the 
 stout little man, swabbing his bald head from force 
 of habit, though the morning was chill. "The mar 
 ket has been drier than a fish-horn and duller than 
 a foggy morning. You saved me from a trip to Los 
 Angeles. I should have been carried off by my wife 
 in another day." 
 
218 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "You have got Gradgrind s idea of a holiday," I 
 laughed. 
 
 "Gradgrind, Gradgrind?" said the little man re 
 flectively. "Don t know him. He s not in the mar 
 ket, I reckon. Oh, I m death on holidays! I come 
 near dying every day the Board doesn t meet. When 
 it shut up shop after the Bank of California went to 
 the wall, I was just getting ready to blow my brains 
 out for want of exercise, when they posted the notice 
 that it was to open again." 
 
 I laughed at the stout broker s earnestness, and 
 told him what I wanted done. 
 
 "Whew!" he exclaimed, "you re in business this 
 time, sure. Well, this is just in my line." 
 
 Lattimer and Hobart, after a polite explanation 
 of their rules in regard to margins, and getting a 
 certified check, became obsequiously anxious to do 
 my bidding. 
 
 I distributed the business with such judgment that 
 I felt pretty sure our plans could not in any way be 
 exposed, and took my place at the rail in the Board 
 room. 
 
 The opening proceedings were comparatively 
 tame. I detected a sad falling-off in the quality and 
 quantity of lung power and muscular activity among 
 the buyers and sellers in the pit. 
 
 At the call of Confidence, Lattimer and Hobart be 
 gan feeding shares to the market. Confidence 
 dropped five points in half a minute, "and the pit be 
 gan to wake up. 
 
A DEAL IN STOCKS 219 
 
 There was a roar and a growl that showed me 
 the animals were still alive. 
 
 The Decker forces were taken by surprise, but 
 with a hasty consultation came gallantly to the rescue 
 of their stock. At the close of the call they had 
 forced it back and one point higher than at the 
 opening. 
 
 This, however, was but a skirmish of outposts. 
 The fighting began at the call of Crown Diamond. 
 
 It opened at sixty-three. The first bid was hardly 
 made when with a bellow Wallbridge charged on 
 Decker s broker, filled his bid, and offered a thousand 
 shares at sixty-two. 
 
 There was an answering roar from a hundred 
 throats and a mob rushed on Wallbridge with the 
 apparent intent of tearing him limb from limb. 
 Wallbridge s offer was snapped up at once, but a 
 few weak-kneed holders of the stock threw small 
 blocks on the market. 
 
 These were taken up at once, and Decker s brokers 
 were bidding sixty-five. 
 
 At this Eppner gave a blast like a cornet, and, 
 waving his arms frantically, plunged into a small- 
 sized riot. I had entrusted him with five thousand 
 shares of Crown Diamond to be sold for the best 
 price possible, and he was feeding the opposition 
 judiciously. The price wavered for a moment, but 
 rallied and reached sixty-six. 
 
 At this I signaled to Wallbridge, and with another 
 bellow he started an opposition riot on the other side 
 
220 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 of the room from Eppner, and fed Crown Diamond 
 in lumps to the howling forces of the Decker com 
 bination. 
 
 The battle was raging furiously. 
 
 I had no wish to break the price of the stock. I 
 was intent only at selling shares at a good price, but 
 I had convinced the Decker forces that there was a 
 raid on the stock, and they had rallied to protect it at 
 whatever cost. 
 
 The price see-sawed between sixty-six and sixty- 
 five, and amid a tumult of yells and shouts I sold 
 twelve thousand shares. At last they were gone, 
 but the offers still continued. 
 
 Outsiders had become scared at the persistent sell 
 ing, and were trying to realize before a break should 
 come, and in spite of Decker s efforts the price ran 
 down to sixty. 
 
 There was a final rally of the Decker forces, and 
 the call closed with Crown Diamond at sixty-three. 
 
 I was pleased at the result. Doddridge Knapp 
 had intrusted me with the shares with the remark, 
 "I paid fifty for em and they re not worth a tinker s 
 dam. I got an inside look at the mine when I was 
 in Virginia City. Feed Decker all he ll take at sixty. 
 He s been fooled on the thing, and I reckon he ll buy 
 a good lot of them at that." 
 
 I had sold Doddridge Knapp s entire lot of the 
 stock at an average of over sixty-five, had netted 
 him a profit of fifteen dollars a share, and had, for a 
 second purpose, served the plan of campaign by 
 
A DEAL IN STOCKS 221 
 
 drawing the enemy s resources to the defense of 
 Crown Diamond and weakening, by so much, his 
 power of operating elsewhere. 
 
 By the time Omega was reached I had the plans 
 fully in hand. 
 
 The assault on Crown Diamond had caused a 
 nervous feeling all along the line, and under rumors 
 of a bear raid there had been a drop of several 
 points. 
 
 Omega felt the results of the nervousness and de 
 pression, and opened at seventy-five. 
 
 There was a moment s buzz the quiet of a crowd 
 expectant of great events. Then Wallbridge charged 
 into the throng with a roar. I could not distinguish 
 his words, but I knew that he was carrying out my 
 order to drop five thousand shares on the market. 
 
 At his cry there was an answering roar, and the 
 scene upon the floor turned to a riot. Men rushed 
 hither and thither, screaming, shouting, waving their 
 arms, pushing, jostling, tearing each other to get 
 into the midst of the throng, whirling about, mob 
 bing first one and then another of the leather-lunged 
 leaders who furnished at each moment fresh centers 
 for the outbreak of disorder. How the market was 
 going, I could only guess. At Wallbridge s onset I 
 saw Lattimer and Eppner make a dive for him and 
 then separate, following other shouting, screaming 
 madmen who pirouetted about the floor and tried to 
 save themselves from a mobbing. I heard seventy 
 shouted from one direction, but could not make out 
 
222 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 whether it set the price of the stock or not.- The din 
 was too confusing for me to follow the course of 
 events. 
 
 At last Wallbridge staggered up to the rail, 
 flushed, collarless and panting for breath, with his 
 hat a hopeless wreck. 
 
 "We ve done it !" he gasped in my ear. "The dogs 
 )of war are making the fur fly down here, you bet! 
 Don t you wish you was in it?" 
 
 "No, I don t!" I shouted decidedly. "How does 
 it go?" 
 
 "I sold down to seventy-one average seventy- 
 three, I guess and she s piling in fit to break the 
 floor." 
 
 "Did Lattimer and Eppner get your stock?" I 
 could not help asking. 
 
 "They got about three thousand of it. Rosen- 
 heim got the rest." 
 
 I remembered Rosenheim as the agent of Decker, 
 and sighed. But Lattimer and Eppner were busy, 
 and I had hopes. 
 
 "Where is it now ?" I asked. 
 
 "Sixty-nine and a half." 
 
 I meditated an instant whether to use my authority 
 to throw another five thousand shares on the market. 
 But I caught sight of Decker opposite, pale, hawk 
 like, just seizing an envelope from a messenger. He 
 tore it open, and though his face changed not a line, 
 I felt by a mysterious instinct that it brought assur 
 ance of the aid he sought. 
 
A DEAL IN STOCKS 223 
 
 "Buy every share you can get," I said promptly. 
 "Don t get in the way of Lattimer or Eppner. Put 
 on steam, too." 
 
 "Two-forty on a turnpike road," said Wallbridge. 
 And, refreshed by a minute of rest, he gave a pro 
 longed bellow and charged frantically for a stout 
 man in a white waistcoat who was doing the maniac 
 dance across the hall. 
 
 A moment later the clamor grew louder and the 
 excitement increased. I heard shouts of seventy-five, 
 seventy-eight, eighty and eighty-five. Decker s men 
 had entered into the bidding with energy. The 
 sinews of war had been recruited, and it was a battle 
 for the possession of every block of stock. 
 
 Thus far I had followed closely the plan laid down 
 for me by Doddridge Knapp, and the course of the 
 market had agreed with the outlines of his prophecy. 
 But now it was going up faster than he had expected. 
 Yet I could do nothing but buy. I dared not set 
 bounds to the bidding. I dared not stop for an in 
 stant to hear how the account of purchases stood, for 
 it might allow Decker to get the stock that my em 
 ployer would need to give him the control of the 
 mine. I could only grip the railing and wait for the 
 end of the call. 
 
 At last it came, and "Omega, one hundred and five 
 and three-quarters" was the closing quotation. I 
 feverishly took the totals of my purchases from the 
 brokers, and gave the checks to bind them. Then I 
 hastily made my way through the excited throngs 
 
224 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 that blocked the entrance to the Exchange, brought 
 thither by the exciting news of "a boom in Omega," 
 and hurried to the office. 
 
 Doddridge Knapp had not yet come, and I con 
 sumed myself with impatience for ten minutes till I 
 heard his key in the lock and he entered with a 
 calm smile on his face. 
 
 "What luck, Wilton?" was his greeting. The 
 King of the Street, whose millions had been staked 
 in the game, was less excited than I who risked 
 nothing. 
 
 I gave him my memoranda, and tried to read his 
 face as he studied them. 
 
 "You did a good job with Crown Diamond," he 
 grunted approvingly. 
 
 "Thanks," I returned. "I thought it wasn t bad 
 for a stock that was not worth mentioning." 
 
 "Um, yes. Decker can light his cigars with it 
 next month." 
 
 "A million dollars worth of cigar-lighters might, 
 be called a piece of extravagance," I murmured. 
 
 "You ll think so if you ever buy em, Wilton," 
 growled the King of the Street feelingly. "And here 
 is seven thousand six hundred shares of Omega 
 bought and five thousand sold. That scheme worked 
 pretty well. We made twenty-six hundred by it. 
 Um the price went up pretty fast." 
 
 The King of the Street looked sourly at the figures 
 before him. "You ought to have got more stock," 
 he growled. 
 
A DEAL IN STOCKS 225 
 
 This was a shock to my self-congratulation over 
 my success, and I gave an inquiring "Yes ?" 
 
 "As I figure it out," he said, "somebody else got 
 seven thousand shares and odd. There were over 
 fifteen thousand shares sold in your Board." 
 
 I murmured that I had done my best. 
 
 "Yes, yes ; I suppose so," said my employer. "But 
 we need more." 
 
 "How much?" I asked. 
 
 "I ve got a little over forty-eight thousand shares," 
 he said slowly, "and I must have near sixty thous 
 and. It looks as though I d have to fight for them." 
 
 "Which will cost you about a million and a half 
 at present rates," I returned. 
 
 "I ll give you a million commission, Wilton, if 
 you ll get them for that." 
 
 The King of the Street plainly did not underrate 
 the task he had set. 
 
 "Well, Decker isn t any better off than you," I 
 said consolingly. 
 
 "He s ten or fifteen thousand shares worse off than 
 I am." 
 
 "And he s put a fortune into Crown Diamond, 
 and is pretty well loaded with Confidence." 
 
 "True, my boy." 
 
 "And so," I argued, "he must be nearer the bot 
 tom of his sack than you are." 
 
 "Very good, Wilton," said the King of the Street 
 with a quizzical look. "But you ve left one thing 
 out. You don t happen to know that the directors 
 
226 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 of the El Dorado Bank had a secret meeting last 
 night and decided to back Decker for all they are 
 worth." 
 
 "Rather a rash proceeding," I suggested. 
 
 "Well, he had three millions of their money in his 
 scheme, so I reckon they thought the tail might as 
 well follow the hide," explained my employer. 
 
 "The only thing to do then is to get a bank your 
 self," I returned. 
 
 Doddridge Knapp s lips closed, and a trace of a 
 frown was on his brows. 
 
 "Well, this isn t business," he said. "Now here 
 is what I want," he continued. And he gave direc 
 tions for the buying at the afternoon session. 
 
 "Now, not over one hundred and twenty-five," 
 was his parting injunction. "You may not get 
 much I don t think you will though I have a 
 scheme that may bring a reaction." 
 
 Doddridge Knapp s scheme for a reaction must 
 have been one of the kind that goes off backward, 
 for Omega jumped skyward on the afternoon call, 
 and closed at one hundred and thirty. Rumors were 
 flying fast that a big bonanza, "bigger than the Con 
 solidated Virginia," had been discovered on the six- 
 hundred-foot level, and the great public was rush 
 ing to Pine Street to throw its dollars into the blind 
 pool against Knapp, Decker and the El Dorado 
 bank. And I had been able to get a scant one thou 
 sand five hundred shares when the call was over. 
 
 "I did better than you," said Doddridge Knapp, 
 
A DEAL IN STOCKS 227 
 
 when I explained to him the course of the session. 
 "I found a nest of two thousand five hundred, and 
 gathered them in at one hundred and twenty. But 
 that s all right. You ve done well enough as well 
 as I expected." 
 
 "And still eight thousand to get/ I said. 
 
 "Nearly." 
 
 "Well, we ll get them in due time, I suppose," I 
 said cheerfully. 
 
 "We ll have em by Monday noon, or we won t 
 have em at all," growled Doddridge Knapp. 
 
 "How is that?" 
 
 "You seem to have forgotten, young man, that the 
 stock transfer books of the Omega Company close 
 on Monday at two o clock." 
 
 As I had never heard this interesting piece of in 
 formation before, I could not in strictness be said to 
 have forgotten it. 
 
 "Well, we ought to have the stock by that time," 
 I said consolingly. 
 
 "We ought," said the King of the Street grimly, 
 pausing in the doorway, "but things don t always 
 happen as they ought." 
 
 As I remembered that if things had happened as 
 they ought Doddridge Knapp would be in jail, I gave 
 a hearty assent to the proposition as the door closed 
 behind my retreating employer. 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 MAKING PROGRESS 
 
 "You really don t mean it," said Luella severely, 
 "and it s very wrong to say what you don t mean." 
 
 "In society?" I asked blandly. "I m afraid you re 
 a heretic, L Miss Knapp." 
 
 I blushed as I stumbled over her name. She was 
 Luella to me by night and day, but I did not con 
 sider myself on a footing to use so thrilling a word 
 in her presence. 
 
 "Don t be rude," she said. "Everything has its 
 place in society." 
 
 "Even prevarication," I assented. 
 
 "Even a polite consideration for the feelings of 
 others," corrected Luella. 
 
 "Then you might have some consideration for 
 mine," I said in an injured tone. 
 
 "But we re not in society, not just now, that is 
 to say. We re just friends talking together, and 
 you re not to say what you don t mean just for the 
 sake of pleasing my vanity." 
 
 "Well, if we re just friends talking together " 
 said I, looking up in her face. I was seated on the 
 footstool before her, and it was very entertaining to 
 look at her face, so I stopped at that. 
 
 228 
 
MAKING PROGRESS 229 
 
 "Yes," said Luella, bending forward in her inter 
 est. 
 
 "It was the bravest and truest and most womanly 
 girl I ever knew or heard of. It s the kind a man 
 would be glad to die for." 
 
 I really couldn t help it. Her hand lay very tempt 
 ingly near me, and I don t think I knew what I was 
 doing till she said : 
 
 "Please let go of my hand." 
 
 "But he d rather live for her," I continued boldly. 
 
 "If you don t behave yourself, I ll surrender you 
 to Aunt Julia," said Luella, rising abruptly and 
 slipping to the curtains of the alcove in which we 
 were sitting. She looked very graceful and charm 
 ing as she stood there with one hand raised to the 
 lace folds. 
 
 "Has she recovered ?" I asked. 
 
 "What a melancholy tone ! The poor dear was in 
 bed all Tuesday, but she took advantage of her rest 
 to amplify her emotions." 
 
 "She has acquired a subject of conversation, at 
 least." 
 
 "To last her for the rest of her life," laughed 
 Luella, turning back. " Twill be a blood-curdling 
 tale by the time she reaches the East once more. 
 And now do be sensible no, you sit right where you 
 are and tell me how it all happened, and what it was 
 about." 
 
 I revolved for a moment the plan of a romance 
 that would have, at least, the merit of chaining 
 
230 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 Miss Knapp s interest. But it was gone as I looked 
 into her serious eyes. 
 
 "That s what I should like to know myself," I 
 confessed candidly. Then I added with pardonable 
 mendacity: "I think I must have been taken for 
 somebody else, if it was anything more than a 
 desperate freak of the highbinders." 
 
 "Are you sure they had no interest in seeking 
 you?" asked Luella gravely, with a charming tremor 
 in her voice. 
 
 Before I could reply, Mrs. Knapp s voice was in 
 my ear, and Mrs. Knapp s figure was in the arch 
 way of the alcove. 
 
 "Oh, you are here," she said. "I thought I heard 
 your voices. Luella, your father wants to see you a 
 minute. And how do you do, Mr. Wilton ?" 
 
 I greeted Mrs. Knapp cordially, though I wished 
 that she had delayed her appearance, and looked re 
 gretfully after Luella. 
 
 "I want to thank you for your heroism the other 
 evening," she said. 
 
 "Oh, it was nothing," I answered lightly. "Any 
 one would have done the same." 
 
 "Perhaps but none the less we are all very grate 
 ful. If I had only suspected that anything of the 
 kind could have happened, I should never have al 
 lowed them to go." 
 
 I felt rebelliously glad that she had not suspected. 
 
 "I blame myself for it all," I bowed. "It was 
 very careless of me." 
 
MAKING PROGRESS 231 
 
 "I m afraid so, after all the warning you have 
 had," said Mrs. Knapp. 
 
 "But as it turned out, no harm was done," I said 
 cheerfully. 
 
 "I suppose so," said Mrs. Knapp absently. Then 
 she spoke with sudden attention. "Do you think 
 your enemies followed you there ?" 
 
 I was taken aback with the vision of the Wolf 
 figure in the grimy passage, a fiend in the intoxica 
 tion of opium, and stammered for a reply. 
 
 "My snake-eyed friend made himself a little 
 familiar, I m afraid," I admitted. 
 
 "It is dreadful that these dangers should follow 
 you everywhere," said Mrs. Knapp w r ith feeling. 
 "You must be careful." 
 
 "I have developed eyes in the back of my head," 
 I said, smiling at her concern. 
 
 "I fear you need more than that. Now tell me 
 how it all happened, just as you saw it. I m afraid 
 Luella was a little too hysterical to give a true ac 
 count of it." 
 
 I gave her the story of the scene in the passage, 
 with a few judicious emendations. I thought it 
 hardly worth while to mention Doddridge Knapp s 
 appearance, or a few other items that were more 
 precious to me than to anybody else. 
 
 When I had done Mrs. Knapp sighed. 
 
 "There must be an end of this some day," she 
 said. 
 
 "I hope the day isn t far off," I confessed, "unless 
 
232 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 it should happen to be the day the coroner is called 
 on to take a particular interest in my person." 
 
 Mrs. Knapp shuddered. 
 
 "Oh no, no not that way." 
 
 Then after a pause, she continued : "Would you 
 not rather attack your dangers at once, and have 
 them over, than to wait for them to seek you?" 
 
 I felt a trifle uneasy at this speech. There seemed 
 to be a suggestion in it that I could end the whole 
 matter by marching on my enemies, and coming 
 to decisive battle. I wished I knew what she was 
 hinting at, and how it was to be done, before I an 
 swered. 
 
 "I haven t felt any particular disposition to hunt 
 them up," I confessed, "but if I could cut off all the 
 heads of the hydra at once, it would be worth while. 
 Anything for peace and quiet, you know." 
 
 Mrs. Knapp smiled. 
 
 "Well, there is no use challenging your fate. 
 There is no need for you to act, unless the boy is in 
 danger." 
 
 "Oh, no, none at all," I replied unblushingly. 
 
 "And we ll hope that he will be kept safe until the 
 danger has passed." 
 
 I hoped so devoutly, and said as much. And after 
 a few more words, Mrs. Knapp led me, feebly re 
 sisting, to Mrs. Bowser. 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Wilton," said that charming dame, "my 
 heart goes pit-a-pat when I see you, for it s almost 
 like being among those dreadful highbinders again, 
 
MAKING PROGRESS 233 
 
 and how could you bring the horrid creatures down 
 on our dear Luella, when she might have been cap 
 tured and sold into slavery under our very eyes." 
 
 "Ah, Mrs. Bowser," said I gallantly, "I ought to 
 have known what to expect on bringing such a 
 temptation before our Chinese friends. I do not see 
 how you escaped being carried off " 
 
 "Oh, now, Mr. Wilton," exclaimed Mrs. Bowser, 
 retreating behind her fan ; "you are really too flatter 
 ing. I must say, though, that some of them did make 
 dreadful eyes at me, till I felt that I should faint. 
 And do they really hold their slave-market right in 
 the middle of San Francisco ? And why doesn t the 
 president break it up, and what is the Emancipa 
 tion Proclamation for, I should like to know?" 
 
 "Madam," I replied, "the slave-market is sub 
 rosa, but I advise you to keep out of Chinatown. 
 Some temptations are irresistible." 
 
 Mrs. Bowser giggled behind her fan and was too 
 pleased to speak, and I took advantage of the lull to 
 excuse myself and make a dive into the next room 
 where I espied Luella. 
 
 "Yes, you may sit down here," she said carelessly. 
 "I want to be amused." 
 
 I was not at all certain that I was flattered to be 
 considered amusing ; but I was willing to stay on any 
 terms, so we fell into animated conversation on 
 nothing and everything. In the midst of this enter 
 taining situation I discovered that Mrs. Knapp was 
 watching us, and her face showed no easy state of 
 
234 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 mind. As I caught her eye she moved away, and a 
 minute later Mr. Carter appeared with, 
 
 "Excuse me, Miss Knapp, but your mother would 
 like to see you. She and my wife have some con 
 spiracy on hand." 
 
 I was pleased to see that Luella did not take the 
 interruption gratefully, but she surrendered her place 
 to Mr. Carter, who talked about the weather with a 
 fertility of commonplaces that excited my admira 
 tion. But as even the weather has its limits as a sub 
 ject of interest and the hour grew late, I suppressed 
 a yawn and sought the ladies to take my leave. 
 
 "Oh, must you go?" said Luella, rising. And, 
 leaving Mrs. Carter to her mother, she walked with 
 me to the hall as though she would speak with me. 
 
 But once more alone, with only the hum of voices 
 from the reception-room as company, she fell silent, 
 and I could think of nothing to say. 
 
 "It s very good of you to come," she said hesitat 
 ingly. 
 
 My mind went back to that other evening when I 
 had left the door in humiliation and bitterness of 
 spirit. Perhaps she, too, was thinking of the time. 
 
 "It s much better of you to wish me to come/ I 
 said with all my heart, taking her hand. 
 
 "Come on Saturday," she said at last. 
 
 "I m at your service at any time," I murmured. 
 
 "Don t," she said. "That s conventional. If you 
 are to be conventional you re not to come." And 
 she laughed nervously. 
 
MAKING PROGRESS 235 
 
 I looked into her eyes, and then on impulse 
 stooped and kissed the hand I still held. 
 
 "It was what I meant," I said. 
 
 She snatched her hand away, and as she did so I 
 saw in the dim light that hid the further end of the 
 hall, the figure of the Wolf, massive, dark, threaten 
 ing, and my mind supplied it with all the fires of 
 passion and hate with which I had twice seen the 
 face inflamed. 
 
 Luella s eyes grew large w r ith wonder and alarm 
 as she caught on my face the reflection of the 
 Wolf s coming. But as she turned to look, the 
 figure faded away without sound, and there was only 
 Mrs. Knapp appearing in the doorway; and her 
 alarm turned to amusement. 
 
 "Oh, I was afraid you had gone," said Mrs. 
 Knapp. "Would you mind, Luella, looking after 
 the guests a minute ?" 
 
 Luella bowed me a good night and was gone. 
 
 "Oh, Henry," said Mrs. Knapp, "I wanted to ask 
 you about Mr. Knapp. Is your aid absolutely es 
 sential to his success?" 
 
 "I presume not, thought it would probably em 
 barrass him somewhat if I should take ship for 
 China before morning." 
 
 As I held in the bank securities worth nearly three 
 millions of dollars, I believed that I spoke within 
 bounds. 
 
 "I suppose it would do no good to try to dissuade 
 him from his plans ?" 
 
236 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "It would take a bolder man than I," said I with 
 a smile at the audacity of the idea. 
 
 Mrs. Knapp smiled sadly in response. 
 
 "Do you think, Henry," she asked hesitatingly, 
 "do you think that Mr. Knapp is quite himself ?" 
 
 My mind leaped at the recollection of the Wolf 
 figure in the opium-dens. But I choked down the 
 thought, and replied calmly: 
 
 "He certainly has a vigorous business head on his 
 shoulders." 
 
 "I wish you could tell me about his business af 
 fairs," said Mrs. Knapp wistfully. "But I know you 
 won t." 
 
 "You wouldn t think much of me if I did," I said 
 boldly. 
 
 "It would be right to tell me" she said. "But I 
 mustn t keep you standing here. Good night." 
 
 I walked down the steps, and joined my waiting 
 guards with a budget of new thoughts and feelings 
 to examine. 
 
 The three days that followed were days of storm 
 and stress in the market; a time of steady battle in 
 the Stock Exchange, of feints and sallies on stocks 
 /which we did not want, of "wash sales" and bogus 
 bargains, of rumors on rumors and stratagems on 
 stratagems altogether a harvest season for the 
 Father of Lies. 
 
 Doddridge Knapp fought for the control of 
 Omega, and the Decker syndicate fought as stub 
 bornly for the same end, I was forced to admire the 
 
MAKING PROGRESS 237 
 
 fertility of resource displayed by the King of the 
 Street. He was carrying on the fight with the 
 smaller capital, yet by his attack and defense he em 
 ployed his resources to better result. The \veakness 
 of the syndicate lay in its burden of Confidence and 
 Crown Diamond. Doddridge Knapp had sold out 
 his holdings of both at a handsome profit, but, so 
 far from ceasing his sales of these stocks, as I had 
 expected, he had only begun. He suddenly devel 
 oped into a most pronounced "bear," and sold both 
 stocks for future delivery in great blocks. He was 
 cautious with Confidence, but his assaults on Crown 
 Diamond were ruthless. At every session he sold for 
 future delivery at lower and lower prices, and a large 
 contingent of those "on the Street" joined in the 
 bear movement. Decker and his brokers stood gal 
 lantly to the defense of their threatened properties 
 and bought heavily. Yet it was evident that Omega, 
 Crown Diamond and Confidence together made a 
 little heavier burden than even the El Dorado Bank 
 could carry. In spite of their efforts to buy every 
 thing that was offered, Crown Diamond "futures" 
 fell to forty, thirty, twenty-five, and even twenty, 
 closing at the afternoon session at twenty and three- 
 fourths. 
 
 But the King of the Street was less successful in 
 his manipulation of Omega. Despite his efforts, de 
 spite the rumors that were industriously spread 
 about of the "pinching out" of the great veins, the 
 price continued to go up by leaps and bounds. The 
 
238 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 speculating public as well as Decker and Company 
 were reaching out for the stock, and it was forced up 
 ten and twenty points at a time, closing on Saturday 
 afternoon at three hundred and twenty-five. 
 
 "This is merry war," gasped Wallbridge, at the 
 close of the last session. "I wouldn t have missed 
 this for five years of my life. Doddridge Knapp is 
 the boy for making the market hum when he takes 
 the notion. By George, we ve had a picnic this week ! 
 And last Monday I thought everything was dead, 
 too!" 
 
 "Doddridge Knapp " I exclaimed. "Is he in this 
 deal, too?" 
 
 Wallbridge looked at me in a little confusion, and 
 mopped his head with comical abandon. Then he 
 winked a most diabolical wink, and chuckled. 
 
 "Of course, a secret s a secret ; but when the whole 
 Street s talking about it, you can t exactly call it a 
 close-corporation secret," he explained apologeti 
 cally. 
 
 I assured the stout little broker solemnly that 
 Doddridge Knapp was to know nothing of my deal 
 ings. 
 
 "I ll do anything for a good customer like you," 
 he gasped. "Lord, if it wasn t for the lying, where 
 would the market be? Dead, sir, dead!" And Wall- 
 bridge shook his head merrily over the moral degra 
 dation of the business that chained his thoughts by 
 day and his dreams by night. 
 
 I joined Doddridge Knapp at the office and con- 
 
MAKING PROGRESS 239 
 
 fided to him the fact that the cat was out of the bag. 
 The King of the Street looked a little amused at the 
 announcement. 
 
 "Good Lord, Wilton ! Where are your ears ?" he 
 said. "The Street had the whole story on Friday. 
 Decker was sure of it on Wednesday. But I kept 
 under cover long enough to get a good start, and 
 that was as much as I expected." 
 
 "How do we stand now?" I asked. I knew that 
 our purchases had not been progressing very well. 
 
 "There s five hundred shares to get," said the 
 King of the Street thoughtfully; "five hundred and 
 thirty-six, to be accurate." 
 
 "That s not a very promising outlook," I sug 
 gested, remembering that we had secured only four 
 hundred shares in the whole day s struggle. 
 
 "Well, there ll be an earthquake in the Street if 
 we don t get them, and maybe there ll be one if we 
 do. Decker is likely to dump all his shares on the 
 market the minute we win, and it will be the devil s 
 own job to keep the bottom from falling out if he 
 does." 
 
 The King of the Street then gave some brief di 
 rections. 
 
 "Now," he continued, "you are to be at the Ex 
 change without fail, on Monday morning. I ll be 
 there to give you your orders. Don t be one minute 
 behind hand, or there may be Tophet to pay." And 
 he emphasized his words with an impressive growl 
 that showed the Wolf s fangs. 
 
2 4 o BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "I ll be on hand," I replied. 
 
 "Well, then, go," he growled ; "and see that you 
 come with a clear head on Monday. Keep your 
 thirst until after the game is over." 
 
 A few hours later I was at the house of the Wolf, 
 but I forgot to ask for Doddridge Knapp. Luella re 
 ceived me with apparent indifference that contrasted 
 sharply with her parting, and I was piqued. Mrs. 
 Knapp was gracious, and sailed between us before 
 I had received a dozen words. 
 
 "Where are your spirits to-night?" she asked rail- 
 ingly. "Have you left them in lower Pine Street ?" 
 
 "I have a heart for any fate," I returned lightly. 
 "Am I too grave for the occasion ?" 
 
 "You re always under orders to be cheerful," 
 Luella broke in, "or at least to explain the reason 
 why." 
 
 "He can t explain," retorted her mother. "Mr. 
 Knapp won t let him." 
 
 It struck me, on watching mother and daughter, 
 that it was they who were grave. Luella gave an 
 occasional flash of brightness, but seemed tired or 
 depressed, while Mrs. Knapp appeared to struggle 
 against some insistent sorrow. But presently we 
 found a subject in which Luella roused her interest, 
 and her bright mind and ready wit drove away the 
 fancy that had first assailed me. Then some caller 
 claimed the attention of Mrs. Knapp, and I was con 
 tent to monopolize Luella s conversation for the 
 evening. At last I was constrained to go. Mrs. 
 
MAKING PROGRESS 241 
 
 Knapp was still busied in conversation with her vis 
 itor, and Luella followed me once more into the hall. 
 
 Again her animation left her, and she was silent; 
 and I, on my side, could think of nothing to say. 
 Then her deep gray eyes flashed upon me a look that 
 sent my pulses throbbing, an indefinable, pleading 
 glance that shook my soul. 
 
 "Can t you tell me won t you tell me ?" she said 
 in a low tone that was the complement of the silent 
 speech of the eyes. 
 
 "I wish I could," I whispered. 
 
 "I know it must be right it is right," she said in 
 the same tone. "But I wish that I might know. Will 
 you not tell me?" 
 
 "I will tell you some day," I said brokenly. "Now 
 it is another s, and I can not. But it shall all be 
 yours." 
 
 "All?" 
 
 "Everything." 
 
 In another moment I know not what I should have 
 done, so stirred and tempted was I by her tone and 
 look. But in an instant her manner changed, and 
 she exclaimed in a mocking voice : 
 
 "Now I have your promise, so I ll let you go. 
 You d better not linger, or mama will certainly have 
 some business to talk over with you." And before I 
 could touch her hand she was gone, and her laugh 
 ing "good night" echoed down the hall. 
 
 I was puzzled by these changes of mood, and de 
 cided that Luella Knapp was a most unaccountable 
 
242 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 young woman. And then there dashed over me 
 a sickening realization of what I had done, of what 
 I had promised, and of how impossible it was that I 
 should ever reveal to her the secret I guarded. I 
 cursed the mad folly and crime of her father, for 
 they stood between her and me. Yet under the sub 
 tle influence that she cast upon me I felt the bonds 
 of duty relaxed and slipping away. I had now to 
 confess to myself that I loved Luella Knapp. And 
 she? I hoped and feared, and ran over in my mind 
 every incident of my later visits that might tell in 
 what regard I was held the tones, the words, the 
 manner, that ran from deep interest to indifference. 
 And trying to untangle the skein, I was a good deal 
 startled to feel a touch on my arm as I reached the 
 sidewalk. 
 
 "Oh, it s you, Porter, is it?" I exclaimed, on re 
 cognizing my retainer. "Is Barkhouse here?" 
 
 "Yes, sir. An here s Wilson with a message for 
 you." 
 
 "A message for me ! From whom ?" 
 
 Wilson took me aside, and thrust an envelope into 
 my hand. 
 
 "That come to your room about nine o clock, I 
 reckon," he said. "Leastways, that s the first we 
 saw of it. An Mother Borton was there, an she 
 says she must see you to-night, sure. She wouldn t 
 stay, but says you was to come down there before 
 you goes to bed, sure, if you wants to keep out of 
 trouble." 
 
MAKING PROGRESS 243 
 
 I looked at the envelope, and in the flickering light 
 from the street-lamp I could make out the address 
 to Henry Wilton. By the handwriting and by the 
 indefinable scent that rose from the paper, I knew 
 it for a message from the Unknown who held for 
 me the secrets of life and death. 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 
 AT THE BIDDING OF THE UNKNOWN 
 
 The windows of Borton s shone cheerfully, al 
 though it was past midnight. At our cautious ap 
 proach a signal was given, and with the answering 
 word a man appeared from the obscurity. 
 
 "All safe?" I inquired. 
 
 "It s all right," said Barkhouse. "There s a dozen 
 men in the bar-room, and I m not sure there ain t 
 some of the hounds amongst them. But you re to go 
 in the side door, and right up stairs." 
 
 "Two of you may keep at the foot of the stairs, 
 just inside the door," I said. "You may stand watch 
 outside, Barkhouse." 
 
 There was sound of rude song, and the clink of 
 glass and bottle in the bar and dining-room, as I 
 passed through the side hall. But the door was 
 closed, and I saw nothing of the late revelers. In 
 the upper hallway Mother Borton stood by an open 
 door, silhouetted dark and threatening against the 
 dim flickerings that came from the candle in the 
 room behind her. 
 
 I had but opened my mouth to give her word of 
 greeting when she raised a warning claw, and then 
 
 244 
 
THE UNKNOWN 245 
 
 seizing me, drew me swiftly into the room and closed 
 and locked the door. 
 
 "How air ye, dearie?" she said, surveying me with 
 some apparent pride. " You re safe and whole, ain t 
 ye?" 
 
 As the candlelight fell on her face, she seemed 
 older and more like a bird of prey than ever. The 
 nose and chin had taken a sharper cast, the lines of 
 her face were deeper drawn with the marks of her 
 evil life, and her breath was strong with the strength 
 of water-front whisky. But her eyes burned bright 
 and keen as ever in their sunken sockets, with the 
 fire of her fevered brain behind them. 
 
 "I am safe," I said, "though I had a close shave in 
 Chinatown." 
 
 "I heerd of it," said Mother Borton sourly. "I 
 reckon it ain t much good to sit up nights to tell you 
 how to take keer of yourself. It s a wonder you ever 
 growed up. Your mammy must a been mighty 
 keerful about herdin ye under cover whenever it 
 rained." 
 
 "I was a little to blame," I admitted, "but your 
 warning was not thrown away. I thought I was well- 
 guarded." 
 
 Mother Borton sniffed contemptuously. 
 
 "I s pose you come down here alone?" 
 
 "No." And I explained the disposition of my 
 forces. 
 
 "That s not so bad," she said. "They could git up 
 here soon enough, I reckon, if there was a row. But 
 
246 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 I guess you didn t think I sent for ye jest to tell ye 
 you was a fool in Chinatown." 
 
 I admitted that I should have expected to wait til! 
 morning for such a piece of information. 
 
 "Well," said Mother Borton, "that ain t it. Some 
 thing s up." 
 
 "And what might it be?" I inquired. "The 
 moon?" 
 
 Mother Borton did not take this flippancy kindly. 
 Her face grew darker and more evil as it was framed 
 in the dancing shadows behind her. 
 
 "You can git a knife in ye as easy as winking if 
 I ll jest keep my mouth shut," she cried spitefully. 
 
 "Yes," said I repentantly, putting my hand upon 
 her arm. "But you are my very good friend, and 
 will tell me what I ought to know." 
 
 The creature s face lighted at my tone and action, 
 and her eyes melted with a new feeling. 
 
 "That I will," she said; "that I will, as if you 
 were my own boy." 
 
 She seized my hand and held it as she spoke, and 
 looked intently, almost lovingly, on my face. Else 
 where I could have shivered at the thought of her 
 touch. Here, with the bent figure amid the gloomy 
 shadows of the den in which we sat, with the atmos 
 phere of danger heavy about us, I was moved by a 
 glow of kindly feeling. 
 
 "I was a-listening to em," she continued in a low, 
 earnest tone, glancing around fearfully as if she had 
 the thought that some one else might be listening in 
 
THE UNKNOWN 247 
 
 turn. "I was a-listening, an I heerd what they 
 says." 
 
 "Who said?" I inquired. 
 
 "The ones you knows on," she returned mysteri 
 ously. 
 
 "What ones?" I persisted, though I supposed she 
 meant to indicate some of my energetic enemies. 
 
 Mother Borton paid no attention to my question, 
 and continued : 
 
 "I knowed they was a-talking about you, an they 
 says they would cut your liver out if they found ye 
 there." 
 
 "And where is there?" I asked with growing in 
 terest. 
 
 "That s what I was listening to find out," said 
 Mother Borton. "I couldn t hear much of what they 
 says, but I hears enough to git an idee." 
 
 "Well ?" I said inquiringly as she hesitated. 
 
 She bent forward and hissed rather than whis 
 pered : 
 
 "They ve found out where the boy is !" 
 
 "Are you certain?" I asked in sudden alarm. 
 
 "Pretty sure," she said, "pretty sure. Now you 
 won t go near the place, will ye, dearie?" she con 
 tinued anxiously. 
 
 "You forget that I haven t the first idea where the 
 boy is hidden," I returned. 
 
 "Oh, Lord, yes! I reckon my mind s going," 
 grunted Mother Borton. "But I m afeard of their 
 knives for ye." 
 
248 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "I wish I could give warning," said I, much dis 
 turbed by the information. "The protector of the 
 boy ought to know about this. I m afraid I have 
 done wrong." 
 
 Mother Borton looked at me fixedly. 
 
 "Don t you worry, my dear. She ll know about it 
 all right." 
 
 Again the feeling stole over me that this woman 
 knew more than she told. But I knew that it was 
 useless to question her directly. I considered a mo 
 ment, and then decided to trust her with a secret 
 which might surprise her into admitting her know 
 ledge. 
 
 "I suspect that she knows already. I got a note 
 to-night," said I, drawing from my pocket the en 
 velope I had received from the Unknown. 
 
 Mother Borton seized it, looked for a moment at 
 the firm, delicate hand of the address, and drew out 
 the sheet that it inclosed. 
 
 "Read it, dearie," she said, handing it back after 
 a scrutiny. "I can t tell anything but big print." 
 
 I suspected that Mother Borton was trying to de 
 ceive me, but I repeated the words of the note : 
 
 "Send six men to 8 o clock boat. Come with one 
 in hack to courtyard of the Palace Hotel at 7 140." 
 
 Mother Borton s face changed not a whit at the 
 reading, but at the end she nodded. 
 "She knows," she said. 
 
THE UNKNOWN 249 
 
 "What does it mean?" I asked. "What is to 
 happen?" 
 
 "Don t go, dearie you won t go, will you?" 
 
 "Yes," I said. "I must go." 
 
 "Oh," she wailed ; "you may be killed. You may 
 never come back/ 
 
 "Nonsense," said I. "In broad daylight, at the 
 Palace Hotel ? I m much more likely to be killed be 
 fore I get home to-night." 
 
 Her earnestness impressed me, but my resolution 
 was not shaken. Mother Borton rested her head on 
 the table in despair at my obstinacy. 
 
 "Well, if you will, you will," she said at last; 
 "and an old woman s warnings are nothing to you. 
 But if you will put your head in the traps, I ll do my 
 best to make it safe after you git it there. You jist 
 sit still, honey." And she took the candle and went 
 to a corner where she seated herself at a stand. 
 
 Her shadow grew very large, and her straggling 
 locks sent streamers of blackness dancing on the 
 grimy ceiling. The weird figure, thrown into bold 
 relief by the candle-lighted wall beyond it while all; 
 else was in obscurity, gave an uncanny feeling that 
 turned half to dread as I looked upon her. What 
 secret did she hold? \Vhat was the danger she 
 feared ? 
 
 Mother Borton appeared to have some difficulty 
 in arranging her words to her liking. She seemed to 
 be writing, but the pen did not flow smoothly. At 
 last she was done, and, sealing her work in an en- 
 
250 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 velope, she brought the flickering light once more to 
 the table. 
 
 "Take that," she said, thrusting the envelope into 
 my hand. "If you find a one-eyed man when you 
 git into trouble, give him that letter I ve writ ye, and 
 it may do ye some good. It s the best I can do fer 
 ye. You d better go now and git some sleep. You 
 may need it." 
 
 I thanked Mother Borton and pressed her hand, 
 and she held the candle as I tiptoed down the stairs, 
 joined my waiting guards, and went out into the 
 night. 
 
 The fresh, cool air of the early morning hours 
 was grateful after the close and tainted atmosphere 
 of the den we had left, but I had other things to 
 think of than the pleasure of once more filling my 
 lungs. 
 
 "Where are Barkhouse and Phillips?" I asked, as 
 we turned our faces toward the west. 
 
 Porter gave a low whistle, and, as this failed to 
 bring an answer, followed it with one louder and 
 more prolonged. We listened, but no response came. 
 
 "We d better get out of here," said Wilson. 
 "There s no telling what may happen when they 
 hear that whistle." 
 
 "Hist! What s that?" said Porter, drawing me 
 back into a doorway. 
 
 There were running steps on the block above us, 
 and I thought a shadow darted from one side of the 
 street to the other. 
 
THE UNKNOWN 251 
 
 "There seem to be friends waiting for us/ said I. 
 "Just get a good grip of your clubs, boys, and keep 
 your revolvers handy in case they think they have a 
 call to stop us." 
 
 "Hold on," said Porter. "There s a gang of em 
 there. I see a dozen of em, and if we re the ones 
 they re after we had better cut for it." 
 
 "I believe you are right," said I, peering into the 
 darkness. I could see a confused mass, but whether 
 of men or boxes I could only guess. 
 
 "We ll go up here, and you can cut around the 
 other way," said Porter. "There s no need for you 
 to risk it." 
 
 "There s no need for any one to risk it. We ll 
 cut together." 
 
 "This way then," said Wilson. "I know this part 
 of town better than you do. Run on your toes." 
 And he darted past Borton s, and plunged into an 
 alley that led toward the north. Porter and I fol 
 lowed, as quietly as possible, through the dark and 
 noisome cut-off to Pacific Street. Wilson turned to 
 ward the bay, and crossing the street at the next 
 corner followed the main thoroughfare to Broad 
 way. 
 
 "I guess we re all right now," he gasped, as we 
 turned again to the west, "but we d best keep to the 
 middle of the street." 
 
 And a little later we were in sight of the house of 
 mystery which fronted, forbidding and gloomy as 
 ever, on Montgomery Street. 
 
252 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "Where s Barkhouse?" I asked of Trent, who 
 was on guard. 
 
 "He hasn t come in, sir. Phillips got here a bit 
 ago, and I think he has something to report." 
 
 As Phillips had been sent scouting with Barkhouse 
 I thought it likely, and called him to my room. 
 
 "No, sir, I didn t see Bob for nigh on an hour be 
 fore I came back. Not after we got to Borton s." 
 
 "I left him just outside the door," I said. 
 
 "Then you seen him after I did. I was following 
 two fellows down to the Den, you know, and that 
 was the last I seen of Bob." 
 
 1 understood that the Den was one of the meet 
 ing-places of the enemy. 
 
 "Did you find anything there ?" 
 
 "Not a thing. The two fellows went in, but they 
 didn t come out. Another gang of three comes 
 along and goes in, but none of em shows up again, 
 and I reckoned they d gone to bed ; so I takes it as a 
 hint and comes up here." 
 
 "I suppose it would have done no good to wait." 
 
 "You don t think Bob s been took, do you?" 
 
 I did feel uneasy over the absence of the stalwart 
 scout, and but for the orders I had received for the 
 morning I should have had my forces out to find 
 him, or get a hostage in exchange. But as it was, I 
 dissembled my fears and made some reassuring re 
 ply. 
 
 At the earliest light of the morning I was once 
 more astir, but half-refreshed by my short and 
 
THE UNKNOWN 253 
 
 broken rest, and made my dispositions for the day. I 
 ordered Porter, Fitzhugh, Brown, Wilson, Lock- 
 hart and Abrams to wait for me at the Oakland 
 Ferry. Trent, who was still weak from his wound, 
 I put in charge of the home-guard, with Owens, 
 Phillips and Larson as his companions, and gave in 
 structions to look for Barkhouse, in case he did not 
 return. Wainright I took with me, and hailing a 
 hack drove to the Palace Hotel. 
 
 There was a rattle of wagons and a bustle of de 
 parting guests as we drove into the courtyard of the 
 famous hostelry. The eight-o clock boat was to carry 
 the passengers for the east-bound overland train, 
 and the outgoing travelers were filling the place with 
 noise and confusion. 
 
 I stepped out of the hack, and looked about me 
 anxiously. Was I to meet the Unknown? or was 1 
 to take orders from some emissary of my hidden em 
 ployer? No answering eye met mine as I searched 
 the place with eager glance. Neither woman nor 
 man of all the hurrying crowd had a thought for me. 
 
 The hotel carriages rattled away, and comparative 
 quiet once more fell on the court. I looked impa-t 
 tiently about. Was there some mistake? Had the 
 plans been changed? But as I glanced at the clock 
 that ticked the seconds in the office of the hotel I 
 saw that I had been early, and that it was even now 
 but twenty minutes to the hour. 
 
 The minute-hand had not swept past the figure 
 VIII when the door opened, there was a hurried 
 
254 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 step, and two women stood before me, leading a 
 child between them. Both women were closely 
 veiled, and the child was muffled and swathed till its 
 features could not be seen. 
 
 One of the women was young, the other older 
 perhaps middle-aged. Both were tall and well-made. 
 I looked eagerly upon them, for one of them must 
 be the Unknown, the hidden employer whose task 
 had carried Henry Wilton to his death, who held my 
 life in her hands, and who fought the desperate bat 
 tle with the power and hatred of Doddridge Knapp. 
 
 I was conscious of some disappointment, I could 
 not say why. But neither of the women filled the 
 outline of the shadowy picture my fancy had drawn 
 of the Unknown. Neither gave impression of the 
 force and decision with which my fancy had en 
 dowed the woman who had challenged the resources 
 and defied the vengeance of the Wolf. So much I 
 took to my thoughts in the flash of an eye as they 
 approached. It was to the younger that I turned as 
 the more likely to have the spirit of contest, but it 
 was the older who spoke. 
 
 "Here is your charge, Mr. Wilton," she said in a 
 low, agitated voice. As she spoke, I felt the faint 
 suggestion of the peculiar perfume that had 
 greeted me from the brief letters of the Unknown. 
 
 "I am ready for orders," I said with a bow. 
 
 It was apparently a mere business matter between 
 us. I had fancied somehow that there had been a 
 bond of friendship, as much as of financial interest, 
 
THE UNKNOWN 255 
 
 between Henry Wilton and his employer, and felt 
 the sense of disappointment once more. 
 
 "Your orders are in this envelope/ said the Un 
 known, hurriedly thrusting a paper into my hand. 
 "Drive for the boat, and read them on the vray. You 
 have no time to lose." 
 
 The younger woman placed the child in the hack. 
 
 "Climb in, Wainwright," said I, eying the young 
 ster unfavorably. "Will he travel with us, ma am? 
 He s rather young." 
 
 "He ll go all right," said the elder woman with 
 some agitation. "He knows that he must. But treat 
 him carefully. Now good-by." 
 
 "Oakland Ferry, driver," I cried, as I stepped into 
 the hack and slammed the door. And in a moment 
 we were dashing out into New Montgomery Street, 
 and with a turn were on Market Street, rolling over 
 the rough cobbles toward the bay. 
 
CHAPTER XXII 
 
 TRAILED 
 
 "Did you see him?" asked Wainwright, as the 
 hack lurched into Market Street and straightened its 
 course for the ferry. 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 "Tom Terrill. He was behind that big pillar near 
 the arch there. I saw him just as the old lady spoke 
 to you, but before I catches your eye, he cuts and 
 runs." 
 
 I felt of my revolver at this bit of news, and was 
 consoled to have the touch of it under my hand. 
 
 "I didn t see him," I said. "Keep the child be 
 tween us, and shoot anybody who tries to stop us or 
 to climb into the hack. I must read my orders." 
 
 "All right, sir," said Wainwright, making the 
 child comfortable between us. 
 
 I tore open the envelope and drew forth the 
 scented paper with its familiar, firm, yet delicate 
 handwriting, and read the words : 
 
 "Take the train with your men for Livermore. 
 Await orders at the hotel. Protect the boy at all haz 
 ards." 
 
 256 
 
TRAILED 257 
 
 Inclosed in the sheet were gold-notes to the value 
 of five hundred dollars a thoughtful detail for 
 which I was grateful at the outset of such an expedi 
 tion. I thrust the money into my pocket and pon 
 dered upon the letter, wondering where Livermore 
 might be. My knowledge of the geography of Cali 
 fornia was exceedingly scant. I knew that Oakland 
 lay across the bay and that Brooklyn lay close by, a 
 part of Oakland. I remembered a dinner at Sacra 
 mento, and knew Los Angeles on the map. Further 
 than this my ideas were of the most hazy character, 
 and Livermore was nowhere to be found in my geo 
 graphical memory. 
 
 I had some thought of questioning Wainwright, 
 who was busy trying to make friends with the child, 
 but reflecting that I might be supposed to know all 
 about it I was silent. Wainwright s efforts to get 
 the child to speak were without success. The little 
 thing might from its size have been five years old, 
 but it was dumb frightened, as I supposed, by the 
 strangeness of the situation, and would speak no 
 word. 
 
 This, then, was the mysterious boy whose fate wast 
 linked so closely with my own; about whose body 
 battled the hirelings of Doddridge Knapp and of my 
 unknown employer; for whom murder had been 
 done, and for whom perhaps many now living were 
 to give up their lives. 
 
 Who was he? Whence had he come? What in 
 terests were bound up in his life? Why was his body 
 
258 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 the focus of plot and counterplot, and its possession 
 disputed with a fierce earnestness that stopped at no 
 crime ? Perhaps, could he be got to talk, the key of 
 the mystery might be put in my hands. Out of the 
 mouth of the babe I might learn the secret that had 
 racked my brain for days and weeks. 
 
 And why \vas he put thus in my charge? What 
 was I to do with him ? Whither was I to carry him ? 
 I reproached myself that I had not stopped the Un 
 known to ask more questions, to get more light on 
 the duties that were expected of me. But the hack 
 on a sudden pulled up, and I saw that we were before 
 the long, low, ugly wooden building that sat square 
 across Market Street as the gateway to San Fran 
 cisco through which the tide of travel must pass to 
 and from the Golden City. 
 
 "Look out on both sides, Wainwright," I cau 
 tioned. "You carry the boy and I ll shoot if there s 
 any trouble. See that you keep him safe." 
 
 There were nearly ten minutes before the boat 
 left, but the hurry for tickets, the rush to check bag 
 gage, the shouts of hackmen and expressmen, the 
 rattle and confusion of the coming and departing 
 street-cars that centered at the ferry, made us in 
 conspicuous among the throng as we stepped out of 
 the hack. 
 
 "Here Fitzhugh, Brown/ I said, catching sight 
 of two of my retainers, "get close about. Have you 
 seen anything any signs of the enemy?" 
 
 "I haven t/ said Fitzhugh, "but Abrams thought 
 
TRAILED 259 
 
 he saw Dotty Ferguson over by the Fair Wind 
 saloon there. Said he cut up Clay Street before the 
 rest of us caught sight of him so maybe Abrams 
 was off his nut." 
 
 "Quite likely/ I admitted as we turned the jut 
 ting corner of the building and came under shelter 
 by the ticket office. "But keep a close watch." 
 
 The other four retainers were in the passageway, 
 and I called to the ticket-seller for the tickets to 
 Livermore. By the price I decided that Livermore 
 must be somewhere within fifty miles, and marshal 
 ing my troop about the boy, marched into the wait 
 ing-room, past the door-keeper, through the sheds, 
 and on to the ferry boat. 
 
 I saw no signs of the enemy, and breathed freer 
 as the last belated passenger leaped aboard, the fold 
 ing gang-plank was raised, and the steamer, with a 
 prolonged blast of the whistle, slid out into the yel 
 low-green waters of the bay. 
 
 The morning had dawned pleasant, but the sky 
 was now becoming overcast. The wind came fresh 
 and strong from the south. The white-capped waves 
 were beginning to toss and fret the shallow waters, 
 and the air gave promise of storm. We could see 
 men busy making all things snug on the vessels that 
 swung uneasily to their anchors in the harbor, and 
 tugs were rushing about, puffing noisily over noth 
 ing, or here and there towing some vessel to a better 
 position to meet the rising gale. The panorama of 
 the bay, with the smoke-laden city, grim and dark 
 
260 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 behind, the forest of masts lining its shore, the yel 
 low-green waters, dotted here and there with sh ps 
 tossing sharply above the white-capped waves that 
 chased each other toward the north, the cloud 
 squadrons flying up in scattered array from the 
 south, and the Alameda hills lying somber and dark 
 under the gray canopy of the eastern sky in front, 
 had a charm that took my mind for the time from 
 the mysterious enterprise that lay before me. 
 
 "Keep together, boys," I cautioned my retainers 
 as I recalled the situation. "Has any one seen signs 
 of the other gang?" 
 
 There was a general murmur in the negative. 
 
 "Well, Abrams, will you slip around and see if 
 any of them got aboard? There s no such thing as 
 being comfortable until we are sure." 
 
 In the hurry and excitement of preparation and 
 departure, the orders I had given and received, and 
 the work that filled every moment, I had been con 
 scious of the uneasy burden of a task forgotten. I 
 had surely neglected something. Yet for my life I 
 could not see that we lacked anything. I had my 
 seven retainers, the boy was safe with us, I had my 
 purse, we were well-armed, and every man had his 
 ticket to Livermore. But at last the cause of my 
 troubles came to my mind. 
 
 "Great Scott!" I thought. "It s Doddridge 
 Knapp. That little engagement in the stock-market 
 is casting its shadow before." 
 
 It seemed likely indeed that the demands of my 
 
TRAILED 261 
 
 warring employers would clash here as well as in the 
 conflict over the boy. 
 
 Yet with all the vengeful feeling that filled my 
 heart as I looked on the child and called up the 
 memory of my murdered friend, I could but feel a 
 pang of regret at the prospect that Doddridge 
 Knapp s fortune should be placed in hazard through 
 any unfaithfulness of mine. He had trusted me with 
 his plans and his money. And the haunting thought 
 that his fortune was staked on the venture, and that 
 his ruin might follow, with the possible beggary of 
 Luella and Mrs. Knapp, should I fail him at to 
 morrow s crisis, weighed on my spirits. 
 
 My uncomfortable reflections were broken by the 
 clanging engine-bells and the forward movement of 
 the passengers as the steamboat passed into the slip 
 at Long Wharf. 
 
 "Stand together, boys," I cautioned my men. 
 "Keep back of the crowd. Wainwright will take the 
 boy, and the rest of you see that nobody gets near 
 him." 
 
 "All right," said Wainwright, lifting the child iiv 
 his arms. "It will take a good man to get him away 
 from me." 
 
 "Where s Abrams ?" I asked, noting that only six 
 of my men were at hand. 
 
 "You sent him forward," said Lockhart. 
 
 "Not for all day." 
 
 "Well, he hasn t been seen since you told him to 
 find out who s aboard." 
 
262 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 I was a little vexed at the seeming neglect of my 
 retainer, and as we had come down the rear stairs to 
 avoid the crowd and marched through the driveway 
 on the lower deck, I cast a glance into the bar-room 
 with the expectation of finding him engaged in the 
 gentle art of fortifying his courage. But no sign of 
 Ithe missing man met my eye. 
 
 "It s no use to wait for him," I growled. "But 
 the next man that takes French leave had better look 
 somewhere else for a job, for by the great horn 
 spoon, he s no man of mine." 
 
 We marched off the boat in the rear of the crowd, 
 I in no pleasant humor, and the men silent in reflec 
 tion of my displeasure. And with some difficulty we 
 found seats together in a forward coach. I arranged 
 my men in three seats on one side of the car and two 
 on the other, Wainwright taking the center of the 
 three with the boy, guarded thus front and rear, 
 while I sat opposite and one seat behind, where I 
 could observe any attempt at interference, with 
 Lockhart in front of me. I judged that any one who 
 tried to attack the position would have a lively five 
 minutes on his hands. 
 
 The train was the east-bound overland, and it 
 seemed hours before the baggage was taken aboard 
 and the signal given to start. I grew uneasy, but as 
 my watch assured me that only ten minutes had 
 passed when the engine gave the first gentle pull at 
 the train, I suspected that I was losing the gift of 
 patience. 
 
TRAILED 263 
 
 The train had not gathered headway before a man 
 bent beside me, and Abrams voice spoke softly in 
 my ear. 
 
 "There are two of em aboard." 
 
 "Yes? Where did you find them?" I asked. 
 
 "In the stoke hole. I hid behind a bench till every 
 one had gone and saw em crawl out. They bribed a 
 fireman or deck-hand or some one to keep em under 
 cover. They got off the boat at the last minute, and 
 I sneaked after em." 
 
 "And they re on the train?" 
 
 "Yes, three cars back, next to the sleepers. 
 Shall we chuck em overboard as soon as we get out 
 of Oakland?" 
 
 "Not unless we are attacked," I returned. "Just 
 sit down by the rear door and give the signal if they 
 come this way. There ll be no trouble if they are 
 only two." 
 
 My precautions were not called to a test, and we 
 reached Livermore at near eleven o clock, without 
 further incident than a report from Abrams that the 
 spies of the enemy got off the train at every station 
 and watched for our landing. Yet when we stood 
 on the platform of the bare little station at Liver- 
 more and saw the yellow cars crawling away on 
 their eastward journey, we looked in vain for the 
 men who had tracked us. 
 
 "Fooled, by thunder !" said Fitzhugh with a laugh 
 in which the others joined. "They re off for Sacra* 
 mento." 
 
264 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "They ll have to earn their money to find us 
 there/ said Abrams. 
 
 The gray day had become grayer, and the wind 
 blew fresh in our faces with the smell of rain heavy 
 upon it, as we sought the hotel. It was a bare coun 
 try place, yet trees grew by the hotel and there were 
 vines climbing about its side, and it looked as though 
 we might be comfortable for a day, should we have 
 to stay there so long. 
 
 "Plenty of room," said the landlord rubbing his 
 hands. 
 
 "Are there any letters here for Henry Wilton?" I 
 inquired, bethinking me that orders might have been 
 sent me already. 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 "Nor telegrams ?" 
 
 "O Lord, no, sir. We don t ha\e telegrams here 
 unless somebody s dead." 
 
 "You may give me Mr. Wilton s mail if any 
 comes," I said. 
 
 The landlord led the way up the stairs, and be 
 guiled me by informing me what a fine house he had 
 and how hard the times were. 
 
 "We wish a large room, you know, where we can 
 be together," I said, "and sleeping-rooms adjoin 
 ing." 
 
 "Here s just the place for you," said the landlord, 
 taking the way to the end of the upper hall and 
 throwing open a double door. "This is the up-stairs 
 parlor, but I can let you have it. There s this large 
 
TRAILED 265 
 
 bedroom opening off it, the corner bedroom, sir, 
 and this small one here at this side opens into the 
 parlor and the hall. Perhaps you would like this 
 other one, too." 
 
 He seemed ready and anxious to rent us the whole 
 house. 
 
 "This is enough for our comfort," I assured him. 
 
 "There ll be a fire here in a minute/ said the land 
 lord, regarding the miserable little stove with an eye 
 of satisfaction that I attributed to its economical pro 
 portions. 
 
 "This is good enough," said Lockhart, looking 
 about approvingly at the prim horsehair furniture 
 that gave an awesome dignity to the parlor. 
 
 "Beats our quarters below all hollow," said Fitz- 
 hugh. "And no need to have your gun where you 
 can grab it when the first man says boo !" 
 
 "Don t get that idea into your head," said I. "Just 
 be ready for anything that comes. We re not out of 
 the woods yet, by a long way." 
 
 "They ve gone on to Sacramento," laughed Fitz- 
 hugh ; and the others nodded in sympathy. 
 
 "Indeed ?" I said. "How many of you could have 
 missed seeing a party of nine get off at a way-station 
 on this line?" 
 
 There was silence. 
 
 "If there s any one here who thinks he would have 
 missed us w r hen he was set to look for us, just let 
 him speak up," I continued with good-humored rail 
 lery. 
 
266 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "I guess you re right," said Fitzhugh. "They 
 couldn t well have missed seeing us." 
 
 "Exactly. And they re not off for Sacramento, 
 and not far from Livermore." 
 
 "Well, they re only two," said Lockhart. 
 
 "How long will it take to get a dozen more up 
 here?" I asked. 
 
 "There s a train to Niles about noon," said one 
 of the men. "They could get over from there in an 
 hour or two more by hard riding." 
 
 "The Los Angeles train comes through about 
 dark," said another. 
 
 "I think, gentlemen," said I politely, "that we d 
 best look out for our defenses. There s likely to be a 
 stormy evening, I should judge." 
 
 "Well," growled Wainwright, "we can look out 
 for ourselves as well as the next fellow." 
 
 "If there s bloody crowns going round, the other 
 gang will get its share," said Fitzhugh. And the 
 men about me nodded. 
 
 I was cheered to see that they needed nobody to 
 do their fighting, however advisable it might be to 
 do their thinking by deputy. 
 
 "Very good," I said. "Now I ll just look about 
 the town a bit. You may come with me, if you 
 please, Fitzhugh." 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "And Abrams and Lockhart may go scouting if 
 they like." 
 
 Abrams and Lockhart thought they would like. 
 
TRAILED 267 
 
 "Better keep together," I continued. "What s the 
 earliest time any one could get here?" 
 
 "Two o clock if they drove over." 
 
 "I ll be around here by that time. You, Abrams, 
 can look out for the road and see who comes into 
 town." 
 
 "All right, sir," said Abrams. "There won t any 
 body get in here without I catch sight of him." 
 
 Lockhart nodded his assent to the boast, and after 
 cautioning the men who were left behind we sallied 
 forth. 
 
 The town was a straggling, not unpleasing coun 
 try place. The business street was depressing with 
 its stores closed and its saloons open. A few loafers 
 hung about the doors of the dram-shops, but the 
 moist breath of the south wind eddying about with 
 its burden of dust and dead leaves made indoors a 
 more comfortable location, and through the blue 
 haze of tobacco smoke we could see men gathered 
 inside. Compared with the dens I had found about 
 my lodgings in the city, the saloons were orderly; 
 but nevertheless they offended my New England 
 sense of the fitness of things. In the city I had 
 scarcely known that there was a Sunday. But here 
 I was reminded, and felt that something was amiss. 
 
 In the residence streets I was better pleased. Man 
 had done little, but nature was prodigal to make up 
 for his omissions. The buildings were poor and 
 flimsy, but in the middle of December the flowers 
 bloomed, vines were green, bushes sent forth their 
 
268 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 leaves, and the beauty of the scene even under the 
 leaden skies and rising gale made it a delight to the 
 eye. 
 
 "Not much of a place," said Fitzhugh, looking 
 disdainfully at the buildings. "Hello ! Here s Dick 
 Thatcher. How are you, Dick? It s a year of Sun 
 days that I haven t seen you. This is er a friend 
 of mine, Thatcher, you needn t mention that you ve 
 seen us." And Fitzhugh stumbled painfully over the 
 recollection that we were incognito, and became si 
 lent in confusion. 
 
 "We needn t be strangers to Mr. Thatcher," I 
 laughed. "My name is Wilton. Of course you won t 
 mention our business." 
 
 "Oh, no, Mr. Wilton," said Thatcher, impressed, 
 and shifting the quid of tobacco in his lantern jaws. 
 "Of course not." 
 
 "And you needn t say anything of our being here 
 at all," I continued. "It might spoil the trade." 
 
 "Mum s the word," said Thatcher. "I ll not let a 
 soul know till you say Let er go. O Lord! I hope 
 the trade goes through. We want a lot more capital 
 here." 
 
 Mr. Thatcher began to scratch his head and to ex 
 pectorate tobacco- juice copiously, and I suspected he 
 was wondering what the secret might be that he was 
 not to betray. So I made haste to say : 
 
 "Is this stable yours ?" 
 
 "Yes, sir," said Thatcher eagerly. "I ve been run 
 ning it nigh on two years now," 
 
TRAILED 269 
 
 "Pretty good business, eh, Dick?" said Fitzhugh, 
 looking critically about. 
 
 "Nothin to brag on," said Thatcher disparag 
 ingly. "You don t make a fortune running a livery 
 stable in these parts times are too hard." 
 
 And then Mr. Thatcher unbent, and between 
 periods of vigorous mastication at his cud, intro 
 duced us to his horses and eagerly explained the ad 
 vantages that his stable possessed over any other this 
 side of Oakland. 
 
 "Very good," I said. "We may want something 
 in your line later. We can find you here at any time, 
 I suppose." 
 
 "O Lord, yes. I live here days and sleep here 
 nights. But if you want to take a look at the prop 
 erty before it gets a wetting you ll have to be pretty 
 spry." 
 
 My suggestion of a trade had misled the worthy 
 stableman into the impression that I was consider 
 ing the purchase of real estate. 
 
 "I ll see about it," I said. 
 
 "There s a big rain coming on, sure," he said 
 warningly, as we turned back to the hoteL 
 
 It was a little after one o clock, but as we ap 
 proached our quarters Lockhart came running to 
 ward me. 
 
 "What is it?" I asked, as he panted, out of breath. 
 
 "There s a special train just come in," he said; 
 "an engine and one car. It s at the station now." 
 
 "So ? Did any of our friends come on it ?" 
 
270 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "Abrams has gone down to find out." 
 
 "Come along then," said I. "We ll see what is to 
 be seen." 
 
 "Don t!" cried Fitzhugh, catching my arm. 
 "They might get you." 
 
 "Nonsense," said I, shaking off his grasp. "Have 
 your revolver ready, and follow me." 
 
CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 A PIECE OF STRATEGY 
 
 A few idlers were on the platform of the station 
 as we approached with much apparent unconcern, 
 our hands in our overcoat pockets where the weapons 
 lay. 
 
 "Where s the train?" I asked, looking at the bare 
 track. 
 
 "Yonder," grunted a native, pointing his thumb 
 lazily up the road where the engine lay by the water 
 ing tank, slaking its thirst. 
 
 "Well, just let me and Lockhart walk ahead," 
 said Fitzhugh gruffly, as we started along the track. 
 "I shouldn t have the first idea what we was here for 
 if you was to be knocked over." 
 
 Fitzhugh could not be much more in the dark on 
 this point than I, but I let him have his way. If some 
 one was to be shot, I was ready to resign my claim 
 to the distinction in favor of the first comer. 
 
 There were perhaps a score of people about the 
 car. 
 
 "There s Abrams," said Lockhart. 
 
 "There s no danger, then," said Fitzhugh with a 
 grin. "See, he s beckoning to us." 
 
 271 
 
272 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 We hastened forward eagerly. 
 
 "What is it?" I asked. 
 
 "There s no one here," said Abrams, with a puz 
 zled look. 
 
 "Well, this car didn t come alone," I returned. 
 "Have you asked the engineer?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "And the fireman?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "And they say" 
 
 "That it s against the rules to talk." 
 
 "Nonsense; I ll see them myself." And I went 
 forward to the engine. 
 
 The engineer was as close-mouthed as though 
 words were going at a dollar apiece and the market 
 bounding upw r ard. He declined dinner, could not be 
 induced to come and take a drink, and all that could 
 be got out of him was that he was going back to 
 Niles, where he would stop until he got orders from 
 the superintendent. 
 
 When I tried to question the fireman, the engineer 
 recovered his tongue, and had so many orders to be 
 attended to that my words were lost in a rattle of 
 coal and clang of iron. 
 
 And the engine, having drunk its fill, changed its 
 labored breathing to a hissing and swishing of stearn 
 that sent the hot vapor far on both sides, and then 
 gathering speed, puffed its swift way back the road 
 by which it had come, leaving the car deserted on a 
 siding. 
 
A PIECE OF STRATEGY 273 
 
 "Here s a go !" cried Fitzhugh. "A regular puz 
 zler!" 
 
 "Guess it s none of the gang, after all," said Lock- 
 hart. 
 
 Abrams shook his head. 
 
 "Don t you fool yourself," he said. "They ve 
 landed below here, and maybe they re in town while 
 we ve got our mouths open, fly-catching around an 
 empty car." 
 
 "Good boy, Abrams," I said. "My opinion ex 
 actly." 
 
 "And what s to be done, then?" he asked anx 
 iously. 
 
 "For the first thing, to visit the telegraph office at 
 once." 
 
 The operator was just locking his little room in 
 the station as we came up. 
 
 "No, sir, no telegrams," he said; "none for any 
 body." 
 
 "This is a new way of running trains," I said with 
 a show of indifference, nodding toward the empty 
 car. 
 
 "Oh, there was a party came up," said the agent ; 
 "a dozen fellows or more. Bill said they took a fancy 
 to get off a mile or more down here, and as they 
 were an ugly-looking crew he didn t say anything to 
 stop them." 
 
 "I don t see what they can be doing up in this part 
 of the country," I returned innocently. 
 
 "I guess they know their business anyway, it s 
 
274 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 none of mine/ said the agent. "Do you go in here, 
 sir? Well, it will save you from a wetting." 
 
 We had been walking toward the hotel, and the 
 chatty agent left us under its veranda just as the 
 light drops began to patter down in the dust of the 
 road, and to dim the outlines of the distant hills. 
 
 "I reckon that s the gang," said Fitzhugh. 
 
 "I told you so," said Abrams. "I knew it was one 
 of Tom Terrill s sneaky tricks." 
 
 "Shall we take a look for em?" asked Lockhart. 
 
 "There s no need," I replied. 
 
 The home guard of our party received the news 
 calmly. 
 
 Wainwright had established a modus Vivendi with 
 his young charge, and I saw that he managed to get 
 a word out of him now and then. I had to abandon 
 the theory that the boy was dumb, but I suspected 
 that it was fear rather than discretion that bridled 
 his tongue. 
 
 "Do you think the gang have got into town?" 
 asked one. 
 
 "They ll have wet jackets if they are on the road," 
 I returned, looking at the rain outside. 
 
 "Hadn t we better find out?" inquired Wain 
 wright. 
 
 "Are you in a hurry?" I asked in turn. "The 
 landlord has promised to send up a good dinner in 
 a few minutes." 
 
 "But you see" 
 
 "Yes, I see," I interrupted. "I see this that they 
 
A PIECE OF STRATEGY 275 
 
 are here, that there are a dozen or more of them, 
 and that they are ready for any deviltry. What more 
 can we find out by roaming over the country ?" 
 
 Wainwright nodded his agreement with me. 
 
 "And then," I continued, "they won t try to do 
 anything until after dark not before the middle of 
 the night, I should say or until the townspeople 
 have gone to bed." 
 
 "You re right, sir," said Abrams. "A dark night 
 and a clear field suits that gang best." 
 
 "Well, here s the dinner," said I; "so you can 
 make yourselves easy. Porter, you may keep an eye 
 on the stairway, and Brown may watch from the 
 windows. The rest of us will fall to." 
 
 In the midst of the meal Porter came in. 
 
 "Darby Meeker s in the office below," he an 
 nounced. 
 
 "Very good," I said. "Just take Fitzhugh and 
 Wilson with you, and ask Mr. Meeker to join us." 
 
 The men looked blank. Porter was the first to 
 speak. 
 
 "You don t mean " 
 
 "I mean to bring him up here," I said blandly, ris 
 ing from the table. "I suppose, though, it s my place 
 as host to do the honors." 
 
 "No no," came in chorus from the men. 
 
 "Come on, Porter Fitzhugh Wilson," I said; 
 and then added sharply, "sit down, the rest of you ! 
 We don t need a regiment to ask a man to dinner." 
 
 The others sank back into their seats, and the 
 
276 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 three I had named followed me meekly down the 
 hall and stairs. 
 
 I had never had the pleasure of meeting Mr. 
 
 Meeker face to face, but I doubted not that I should 
 
 be able to pick him out. I was right. I knew him 
 
 ,the moment I saw him. He was tall and broad of 
 
 I shoulder, long of arm, shifty of eye, and his square 
 
 jaw was covered with a stubby red beard. His 
 
 color heightened as we walked into the office and cut 
 
 off the two doors of retreat. 
 
 "An unexpected pleasure," I said, giving him 
 good day. 
 
 His hand slipped to the side pocket of his sack 
 coat, and then back again, and he made a remark 
 in an undertone that I fear was not intended for a 
 pleasant greeting., 
 
 "There s a little dinner of a few friends going on 
 tip stairs," I said politely. "Won t you join us?" 
 
 Meeker scowled a moment with evident surprise. 
 
 "No, I won t," he growled. 
 
 "But it is a sad case for a man to dine alone," I 
 said smoothly. "You will be very welcome." 
 
 "No, sir," said he, looking furtively at my men 
 , drawing near, between him and the doors. 
 
 "But I insist," I said politely. Then I added in a 
 lower tone meant for him alone : "Resist, you hound, 
 and I ll have you carried up by your four legs." 
 
 His face was working with fear and passion. He 
 looked at the blocked way with the eye of a baited 
 animal. 
 
A PIECE OF STRATEGY 277 
 
 "I ll be damned first!" he cried. And seizing a 
 chair he whirled around, dashed it through a win 
 dow, and leaped through the jagged panes before 
 I could spring forward to stop him. 
 
 "Round in front, men!" I cried, motioning my 
 followers to sally through the door. "Bring him 
 back!" And an instant later I leaped through the 
 window after the flying enemy. 
 
 There was a fall of six feet, and as I landed on a 
 pile of broken glass, a bit shaken, with the rain beat 
 ing on my head, it was a few seconds before I re 
 covered my wits. When I looked, no one was in 
 sight. I heard the men running on the porch of the 
 hotel, so the enemy was not to be sought that way. 
 I set off full speed for the other corner, fifty yards 
 away, half suspecting an ambush. But at the turn 
 I stopped. The rain-soaked street was empty for a 
 block before me. Far down the next block a plod 
 ding figure under an umbrella bent to the gusts of 
 the wind and tried to ward off the driving spray of 
 the storm. But Darby Meeker had disappeared as 
 though the earth had swallowed him up. 
 
 "Where is he?" cried Porter, the first of my men 
 to reach my side. 
 
 I shrugged my shoulders. "I haven t seen him." 
 
 "He didn t come our way that I ll swear," 
 panted Fitzhugh. 
 
 "He was out of sight before I got my feet," said 
 I. "They must have a hiding-place close by." 
 
 "He must have jumped the fence here," said Wil- 
 
278 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 son, pointing to a cottage just beyond the hotel s 
 back yard. "I ll see about it." And he vaulted the 
 pickets and looked about the place. 
 
 He was back in a minute with a shake of the head. 
 
 "Well, it s no great matter," I said. "We can get 
 along without another guest for the afternoon. Now 
 get under cover, boys, or you ll be soaked through." 
 
 The landlord met us with an air half-anxious, 
 half-angry. 
 
 "I d like to know who s to pay for this !" he cried. 
 "There s a sash and four panes of glass gone to 
 smithereens." 
 
 "The gentleman who just went out will be glad to 
 pay for it, if you ll call it to his attention," I said 
 blandly. 
 
 "I ll have the law on him !" shouted the landlord, 
 getting red in the face. "And if he s a friend of 
 yours you d better settle for him, or it will be the 
 worse for him." 
 
 "I m afraid he isn t a friend of mine," I said 
 dubiously. "He didn t appear to take that view of 
 it." 
 
 "That s so," admitted the landlord. "But I don t 
 know his name, and somebody s got to settle for that 
 glass." 
 
 I obliged the landlord with Mr. Meeker s name, 
 and with the bestowal of this poor satisfaction re 
 turned to the interrupted meal. 
 
 "Well, I reckon he wouldn t have been very pleas 
 ant company if you d got him," said one of the men 
 
A PIECE OF STRATEGY 279 
 
 consolingly, when we had told our tale of the search 
 for a guest. 
 
 " I suspect he would be less disagreeable in here 
 than out with his gang," I returned dryly, and turned 
 the subject. I did not care to discuss my plan to get 
 a hostage now that it had failed. 
 
 The gray day plashed slowly toward nightfall. 
 The rain fell by fits and starts, now with a sudden 
 dash, now gently as though it were only of half a 
 mind to fall at all. But the wind blew strong, and 
 the clouds that drove up from the far south were 
 dark enough to have borne t threats of a coming 
 deluge. 
 
 As the time wore on I suspected that my men 
 grew uneasy, wondering what we were there for, 
 and why I did not make some move. Then I re 
 flected that this could not be. It was I who was won 
 dering. The men were accustomed to let me do 
 their thinking for them, and could be troubled no 
 more here than in San Francisco. But what was I ex 
 pected to do ? Where could my orders be ? Had they 
 gone astray? Had the plans of the Unknown come 
 to disaster through the difficulty of getting the tele 
 graph on Sunday? The office here was closed. The 
 Unknown, being a woman, I ungallantly reflected, 
 would have neglected to take so small a circumstance 
 into consideration, and she might even now be be 
 sieging the telegraph office in San Francisco in a 
 vain effort to get word to Livermore. 
 
 On this thought I bestirred myself, and after much 
 
23o BLINDFOLDED 
 
 trouble had speech with the young man who com 
 bined in his person the offices of telegraph operator, 
 station master, ticket seller, freight agent and bag 
 gage handler for the place. He objected to open 
 ing the office "out of office hours." 
 
 "There might be inducements discovered that 
 would make it worth your while, I suppose?" I said, 
 jingling some silver carelessly in my pocket. 
 
 He smiled. 
 
 "Well, I don t care if I do," he replied. "Whatever 
 you think is fair, of course." 
 
 It was more than I thought fair, but the agent 
 thawed into friendship at once, and expressed his 
 readiness to "call San Francisco" till he got an an 
 swer if it took till dark. 
 
 I might have saved my trouble and my coin. San 
 Francisco replied with some emphasis that there was 
 nothing for me, and never had been, and who was 
 I, anyhow? 
 
 There was nothing to be done. I must possess my 
 soul in patience in the belief that the Unknown knew 
 what she was about and that I should get my orders 
 in due time probably after nightfall, when dark 
 ness would cover any necessary movement. 
 
 But if I could shift the worry and responsibility 
 of the present situation on the Unknown, there was 
 another trouble that loomed larger and more per 
 plexing before my mind with each passing hour. 
 If the mission of to-day were prolonged into the mor 
 row, what was to become of the Omega deal, and 
 
A PIECE OF STRATEGY 281 
 
 where would Doddridge Knapp s plans of fortune be 
 found? I smiled to think that I should concern my 
 self with this question when I knew that Doddridge 
 Knapp s men were waiting and watching for my 
 first movement with orders that probably did not 
 stop at murder itself. Yet my trouble of mind in 
 creased with the passing time as I vainly endeavored 
 to devise some plan to meet the difficulty that had 
 been made for me. 
 
 But as I saw no way to straighten out this tangle, 
 I turned my attention to the boy in the hope of 
 getting from him some information that might throw 
 light on the situation. 
 
 "He s as shy as a young quail/ said Wainwright, 
 when my advances were received in stubborn silence. 
 
 "You seem to be getting along pretty well with 
 him/ T suggested. 
 
 "Yes, sir; he ll talk a bit with me, but he s as 
 close-mouthed a chap as you ll find in the state, sir, 
 unless it s one of them deef and dummies." 
 
 I made another unsuccessful attempt to cultivate 
 the acquaintance of my charge. 
 
 "You ve got a day s job before you if you get him 
 to open his head," said Wainwright, amused at the 
 failure of my efforts as an infant-charmer. 
 
 "What has he been talking about?" I inquired, 
 somewhat disgusted. 
 
 "The train," chuckled Wainwright. "Blamed if 
 I think he s seen anything else since he started." 
 
 "The train?" 
 
282 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "Yes; the one we come on. He s been talking 
 about it, and wondering what I d do with it and with 
 out it till I reckon \ve ve covered pretty near every 
 thing that could happen to a fellow with a train or 
 without one." 
 
 "Is that the only subject of interest?" 
 
 "Well, he did go so far as to say that the milk was 
 different here, and that he wanted a kind of cake we 
 didn t get at dinner." 
 
 I attacked the young man on his weak point, and 
 got some brief answers in reply to my remarks on the 
 attractiveness of locomotives and the virtues of cars. 
 But as any venture away from the important subject 
 was met with the silence of the clam, I had at last 
 to give up with a wild desire to shake the young man 
 until some more satisfactory idea should come upper 
 most. 
 
 As darkness came on, the apprehensions of danger 
 which had made no impression on me by daylight, 
 began to settle strongly on my spirits. The wind 
 that dashed the rain-drops in gusts on the panes 
 Deemed to whistle a warning, and the splash of the 
 water outside was as the muttering of a tale of 
 melancholy in an unknown tongue. 
 
 I concealed my fears and depressions from the 
 men, and with the lighting of the lamps made my 
 dispositions to meet any attack that might come. I 
 had satisfied myself that the rear bedroom, that 
 faced the south, could not be entered from the out 
 side without the aid of ladders. The parlor showed 
 
A PIECE OF STRATEGY 283 
 
 a sheer drop to the street on the west, and I felt 
 assured we were safe on that side. But the front 
 windows of the parlor, and the front bedroom which 
 joined it, opened on the veranda roof in common 
 with a dozen other rooms. Inside, the hallway, per 
 haps eight feet wide and twenty-five feet long, of 
 fered the only approach to our rooms from the 
 stairs. The situation was not good for defense, and 
 at the thought I had a mind even then to seek other 
 quarters. 
 
 It was too late for such a move, however, and I 
 decided to make the best of the position. I placed 
 the boy in the south bedroom, which could be reached 
 only through the parlor. With him I placed Wain- 
 wright and Fitzhugh, the two strongest men of the 
 party. The north bedroom, opening on the hall 
 way, the veranda roof and the parlor, looked to be 
 the weakest part of my position, but I thought it 
 might be used to advantage as a post of observation. 
 The windows were guarded with shutters of no 
 great strength. We closed and secured those of the 
 parlor and the inner bedroom as well as possible. 
 Those of the north bedroom I left open. By leaving 
 the room dark it would be easy for a sentinel to get 
 warning of an assault by way of the veranda roof. 
 I stationed Porter in the hall, and Abrams in the 
 dark bedroom, while Lockhart, Wilson, Brown and 
 I held the parlor and made ourselves comfortable 
 until the time should come to relieve the men on 
 guard. 
 
284 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 One by one the lights that could be seen here and 
 there through the town disappeared, the sounds from 
 the streets and the other parts of the house came 
 more infrequently and at last were smothered in si 
 lence, and only darkness and the storm remained. 
 , I thrust open the door to the bedroom to see that 
 the boy and his guards were safe, and this done I 
 turned down the light, threw myself on the floor 
 before the door that protected my charge, and 
 mused over the strange events that had crowded so 
 swiftly upon me. 
 
 Subtle warnings of danger floated over my 
 senses between sleeping and waking, and each time 
 I dropped into a doze I awoke with a start, to see 
 only the dimly-lighted forms of my men before me, 
 and to hear only the sweep and whistle of the wind 
 outside and the dash of water against the shutters. 
 Thrice I had been aroused thus, when, on the border 
 land between dreams and waking, a voice reached 
 my ear. 
 
 "S-s-t! What was that?" 
 
 I sprang up, wide-awake, revolver in hand. It 
 was Lockhart who spoke. We all strained our ears 
 to listen. There was nothing to be heard but the 
 moan of the wind and the dash of water. 
 
 "What was it?" I whispered. 
 
 "I don t know." 
 
 "I heard nothing." 
 
 "It was a coo-hoo like the call of an owl, but " 
 
 "But you thought it was a man ?" 
 
A PIECE OF STRATEGY 285 
 
 Lockhart nodded. Brown and Wilson had riot 
 heard it. 
 
 "Was it inside or outside?" 
 
 "It was out here, I thought," said Lockhart doubt 
 fully, pointing to the street that ran by the side of 
 the hotel. 
 
 I opened the door to the dark bedroom in which 
 Abrams kept watch. It swung noiselessly to my 
 cautious touch. For a moment I could see nothing 
 of my henchman, but the window was open. Then, 
 in the obscurity, I thought I discovered his body 
 lying half-way across the window-sill. I waited for 
 him to finish his observations on the weather, but 
 as he made no move I was struck with the fear that 
 he had met foul play and touched him lightly. 
 
 In a flash he had turned on me, and I felt the muz 
 zle of a revolver pressing against my side. 
 
 "If you wouldn t mind turning that gun the other 
 way, it would suit me just as well," I said. 
 
 "Oh, it s you, is it?" said Abrams with a gulp. "I 
 thought Darby Meeker and his gang was at my 
 back, sure." 
 
 "Did you hear anything?" I asked. 
 
 "Yes; there was a call out here a bit ago. And 
 there s half a dozen men or more out there now 
 right at the corner." 
 
 "Are you sure?" 
 
 "Yes ; I was a-listening to em when you give me 
 such a start." 
 
 "What were they saying?" 
 
286 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "I couldn t hear a word." 
 
 "Give warning at the first move to get into the 
 house. Blaze away with your gun if anybody tries 
 to climb on to the porch." 
 
 Porter had heard nothing, but was wide awake, 
 watching by the light of the lamp that hung at the 
 head of the stairway. And after a caution to vigi 
 lance I returned to my chair. 
 
 For half an hour I listened closely. The men were 
 open-eyed but silent. The storm kept up its mourn 
 ful murmur, but no sound that I could attribute to 
 man came to my straining ears. 
 
 Suddenly there was a cry from the hall. 
 
 "Who s there?" It was Porter s voice. 
 
 An instant later there was a crash of glass, an ex 
 plosion seemed to shake the house, and there was 
 a rush of many feet. 
 
 I leaped to the door and flung it open, Lockhart, 
 Wilson and Brown crowding close behind me. A 
 body of men filled the hallway, and Porter was strug 
 gling in the hands of three ruffians. His revolver, 
 whose shot we had heard, had been knocked from 
 his hand and lay on the floor. 
 
 The sudden appearance of four more weapons in 
 the open doorway startled the enemy into pausing 
 for a moment. I sprang forward and gave the near 
 est of Porter s assailants a blow that sent him stag 
 gering into the midst of his band, and with a. wrench 
 Porter tore himself loose from the other two and was 
 with us again. 
 
A PIECE OF STRATEGY 287 
 
 "What does this mean?" I cried angrily to the in 
 vaders. "What are you here for?" 
 
 There were perhaps a dozen of them altogether, 
 and in the midst of the band I saw the evil face and 
 snake-eyes of Tom Terrill. At the sight of his re 
 pulsive features I could scarce refrain from sending 
 a bullet in his direction. 
 
 Darby Meeker growled an answer. 
 
 "You know what we re here for." 
 
 "You have broken into a respectable house like a 
 band of robbers," I cried. "What do you want?" 
 
 " You know what we want, Mr. Wilton," was the 
 surly answer. "Give us the boy and we won t touch 
 you." 
 
 "And if not?" 
 
 There was silence for a few moments. 
 
 "What are you waiting for?" growled a voice 
 from beyond the turn of the hall. 
 
 At the sound I thrilled to the inmost fiber. Was 
 it not the growl of the Wolf? Could I be mistaken in 
 those tones? I listened eagerly for another word 
 that might put it beyond doubt. 
 
 "Well, are you going to give him up?" asked the 
 hoarse voice of Meeker. 
 
 "There has got to be some better reason for it 
 than your demand," I suggested. 
 
 "Well, we ve got reasons enough here. Stand 
 ready, boys." 
 
 "Look out!" I said to my men, with a glance be 
 hind. 
 
288 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 As I turned I saw without noting it that Wain- 
 wright and Fitzhugh had come out of the boy s room 
 to take a hand in the impending trouble. Lockhart 
 and Wilson slipped in front of me. 
 
 "Get back and look after the boy," whispered the 
 former. "We can hold em here." 
 
 "Move ahead there!" shouted a fierce voice that 
 again thrilled the ear and heart with the growl of the 
 Wolf. "What are you afraid of?" 
 
 "Stand fast, boys," I said to my men. "Wain- 
 wright, keep close to the bedroom." Then I shouted 
 defiance to the enemy. "The first man that moves 
 forward gets killed ! There are eight revolvers here." 
 
 Then I saw that Wainwright had come forward, 
 despite my bidding, eager to take his share of the on 
 slaught. And by some freak of the spirit of the per 
 verse the boy, who had shown himself so timid dur 
 ing the day, had now slipped out of his room and 
 climbed upon a chair to see what the excitement 
 was about, as though danger and death were the last 
 things in the world with which he had to reckon. 
 
 I caught a glimpse of his form out of the tail of 
 my eye as he mounted the chair in his night-dress. 
 I turned with an exclamation to Wainwright and 
 was leaping to cover him from a possible bullet, 
 when there was a roar of rage and the voice of Ter- 
 rill rang through the hall : 
 
 "Tricked again!" he cried with a dreadful oath, 
 "It s the wrong boy!" 
 
CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 ON THE ROAD 
 
 The wrong boy! 
 
 For a moment I could not understand nor believe ; 
 and when the meaning of the words came to me, I 
 groped in mental darkness, unable to come in touch 
 with the significant facts by which I was surrounded. 
 The solid earth had fallen from under me, and I 
 struggled vainly to get footing in my new posi 
 tion. 
 
 But there was no time for speculation. Half in a 
 daze I heard a roar of curses, orders, a crash of 
 glass as the lamp was extinguished, and over all came 
 the prolonged growl of a wolf-voice, hoarse and 
 shaken with anger. There was a vision of a wolf- 
 head rising above the outline of faces a few yards 
 away, dark, distorted, fierce, with eyes that blazed 
 threats, and in an instant I found myself in the 
 center of a struggling, shouting, swearing mass of 
 savage men, fighting with naught but the instinct 
 of blind rage. Shots were fired, but for the most 
 part it was a hand-to-hand struggle. The clearest 
 picture that comes to me out of the confused tangle 
 is that of Wainwright handling his pistol like 3 
 
 289 
 
2 9 o BLINDFOLDED 
 
 bowie knife, and trying to perform a surgical opera 
 tion extensive enough to let a joke into Darby Meek- 
 er s skull. 
 
 I doubt not that I was as crazy as the rest. The 
 berserker rage was on me, and I struck right and left. 
 But in my madness there was one idea strong in my 
 mind. It was to reach the evil face and snake-eyes 
 of Tom Terrill, and stamp the life out of him. With 
 desperate rage I shouldered and fought till his white 
 face with its venomous hatred was next to mine, till 
 the fingers of my left hand gripped his throat, and 
 my right hand tried to beat out his brains with a six- 
 shooter. 
 
 "Damn you!" he gasped, striking fiercely at me. 
 "I ve been waiting for you!" 
 
 I tightened my grip and spoke no word. He 
 writhed and turned, striving to free himself. I had 
 knocked his revolver from his hand, and he tried 
 in vain to reach it. My grip was strong with the 
 strength of madness, and the white face before me 
 grew whiter except where a smear of blood closed 
 the left eye and trickled down over the cheek be 
 neath. A trace of fear stole into the venomous anger 
 of the one eye that was unobscured, as he strove 
 without success to guard himself from my blows. 
 But he gave a sudden thrust, and with a sinuous 
 writhe he was free, while I was carried back by the 
 rush of men with the vague impression that some 
 thing was amiss with me. Then a great light flamed 
 up before me in which the struggling, shouting mob, 
 
ONTHEROAD 291 
 
 the close hall and room, and the universe itself melted 
 away, and I was alone. 
 
 The next impression that came to me was that of a 
 voice from an immeasurable distance. 
 
 "He s coming to," it said; and then beside it I 
 heard a strange wailing cry. 
 
 "What is it?" I asked, trying to sit up. My voice 
 seemed to come from miles away, and to belong to 
 some other man. 
 
 "That s it, you re all right," said the voice en 
 couragingly, and about the half of Niagara fell on 
 my face. 
 
 I sat up and beheld the room whirling about, the 
 walls, the furniture, and the people dancing madly 
 together to a strange wailing sound that carried me 
 back to the dens of Chinatown. Then the mists be 
 fore my eyes cleared away, and I found that I was 
 on the floor of the inner bedroom and Wainwright 
 had emptied a water- jug over me. The light of a 
 small kerosene lamp gave a gloomy illumination to 
 the place. Lockhart and Fitzhugh leaned against 
 the door, and Wilson bent with Wainwright over 
 me. The boy was sitting on the bed, crying shrilly 
 over the melancholy situation. 
 
 I tried to stagger to my feet. 
 
 "Wait a bit," said Wainwright. "You ll get your 
 head in a minute." 
 
 I felt acutely conscious already that I had my 
 head. It seemed a very large head that had suffered 
 from an internal explosion. 
 
292 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "What is it?" I asked, gathering my scattered 
 wits. "What has happened?" 
 
 "We ve been licked/ said Wainwright regretfully. 
 "The rest of the boys got took, but we got in here. 
 Fitz and me seen the nasty knock you got, and 
 dragged you back, and when we got you here the 
 parlor was full of the hounds, and Porter and 
 Abrams and Brown was missing. We found you 
 was cut, and we ve tried to fix you up." 
 
 I looked at my bandaged arm, and put one more 
 count in the indictment against Terrill. He had tried 
 to stab me over the heart at the time he had wrenched 
 free, but he had merely slashed my arm. It was not 
 a severe wound, but it gave me pain. 
 
 "Only a scratch," said Wainwright. 
 
 I envied the philosophic calm with which he re 
 garded it. 
 
 "It ll heal," I returned shortly. "Where is the 
 other gang? Are they gone?" 
 
 "No; there s half a dozen of em out in the par 
 lor, I reckon." 
 
 "You d better tell him," said Fitzhugh, shifting 
 an unpleasant task. 
 
 "Well," said Wainwright, "we heard orders given 
 to shoot the first man that comes out before morn 
 ing, but before all to kill you if you sticks your nose 
 outside before sun-up." 
 
 The amiable intentions of the victors set me to 
 thinking. If it was important to keep me here till 
 morning, it must be important to me to get out. 
 
ONTHEROAD 293 
 
 There was no duty to keep me here, for I need fear 
 no attack on the boy who was with us. I looked at 
 my watch, and found it was near one o clock. 
 
 "Tie those blankets together," I ordered, as soon 
 as I was able to get my feet. 
 
 The men obeyed me in silence, while Wainwright 
 vainly tried to quiet the child. I was satisfied to have 
 him cry, for the more noise he made the less our 
 movements would be heard. I had a plan that I 
 thought might be carried out. 
 
 While the others were at work, I cautiously raised 
 the window and peered through the shutters. The 
 rain was falling briskly, and the wind still blew a 
 gale. I thought I distinguished the dark figure of a 
 man on guard within a few feet of the building, and 
 my heart sank. 
 
 "How many are in the parlor, Wilson?" I asked. 
 
 Wilson applied his eye to the keyhole. 
 
 "Can t see anybody but that one-eyed fellow, 
 Broderick, but there might be more." 
 
 A flash of memory came to me, and I felt in my 
 pocket for Mother Borton s mysterious scrawl. 
 "Give that to a one-eyed man," she had said. It was 
 a forlorn hope, but worth the trying. 
 
 "Hand this to Broderick," I said, "as soon as you 
 can do it without any one s seeing you." 
 
 Wilson did not like the task, but he took the en 
 velope and silently brought the door ajar. His first 
 investigations were evidently reassuring, for he soon 
 had half his body outside. 
 
294 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "He s got it," he said on reappearing. 
 
 A little later there was a gentle tap at the door, 
 and the head of the one-eyed man was thrust in. 
 
 "It s as much as my life s worth," he whispered. 
 "What do you want me to do?" 
 
 "How many men are in the street below here?" 
 
 "There s one ; but more are in call." 
 
 "Well, I want him got out of the way." 
 
 "That s easy," said Broderick, with a diabolical 
 wink of his one eye. "I ll have him change places 
 with me." 
 
 "Good! How many men are here ?" 
 
 "You don t need to know that. There s enough to 
 bury you." 
 
 "Have Meeker and Terrill gone?" 
 
 "Tom ? He s in the next room here, and can count 
 it a mercy of the saints if he gits out in a week. 
 Meeker s gone with the old man. W T ell, I can t stay 
 a-gabbin any longer, or I ll be caught, and then the 
 divil himsilf couldn t save me." 
 
 I shuddered at the thought of the "old man," and 
 the shadow of Doddridge Knapp weighed on my 
 spirits. 
 
 "Are you ready for an excursion, Fitzhugh?" I 
 whispered. 
 
 He nodded assent. 
 
 "Well, we ll be out of here in a minute or two. 
 Take that overcoat. I ve got one. Now tie that 
 blanket to the bedpost. No, it won t be long enough. 
 You ll have to hold it for us, boys." 
 
ON THE ROAD 295 
 
 I heard the change of guards below, and, giving 
 directions to Wainwright, with funds to settle our 
 account with the house, I blew out the lamp, quietly 
 swung open the shutter and leaned over the sill. 
 
 "Hold on to the blanket, boys. Follow me, Fitz," 
 I whispered, and climbed out. The strain on my 
 injured arm as I swung off gave me a burning pain, 
 but I repressed the groan that came into my throat. 
 I half-expected a bullet to bring me to the ground in 
 a hurry, for I was not over-trustful of the good faith 
 of Mother Borton s friend. But I got to the ground 
 in safety, and was relieved when Fitzhugh stood be 
 side me, and the improvised rope was drawn up. 
 
 "Where now?" whispered Fitzhugh. 
 
 "To the stable." 
 
 As we slipped along to the corner a man stepped 
 out before us. 
 
 "Don t shoot," he said ; "it s me, Broderick. Tell 
 Mother Borton I wouldn t have done it for anybody 
 but her." 
 
 "I m obliged to you just the same," I said. "And 
 here s a bit of drink money. Now, where are my 
 men?" 
 
 "Don t know. In the lockup, I reckon." 
 
 "How is that?" 
 
 "Why, you see, Meeker tells the fellows here he 
 has a warrant for you, that you re the gang of 
 burglars that s wanted for the Parrott murder. And 
 he had to show the constable and the landlord and 
 some others the warrant, too." 
 
296 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "How many were hurt?" 
 
 "Six or seven. Two of your fellows looked pretty 
 bad when they was carried out." 
 
 We turned down a by-street, but as soon as the 
 guard had disappeared we retraced our steps and 
 hastened to the Thatcher stables. 
 
 The rain was whipped into our faces as we bent 
 against the wind, and the whish and roar of the gale 
 among the trees, and the rattle of loose boards and 
 tins, as they were tossed and shaken behind the 
 houses, gave a melancholy accompaniment to our 
 hasty march. 
 
 "Hist!" said Fitzhugh in my ear. "Is that some 
 one following us?" 
 
 I drew him into a corner, and peered back into the 
 darkness. 
 
 "I can see no one." 
 
 "I thought I heard a man running." 
 
 "Wait a minute. If there is any one after us he 
 must lose us right here." 
 
 We listened in silence. Only the plash of water 
 and the voice of the storm came to our ears. 
 
 "Well, if they are looking for us they have gone 
 the other way. Come along," I said. 
 
 We nearly missed the stable in the darkness, and 
 it was several minutes before we roused Thatcher 
 to a state in which he could put together the two 
 ideas that we wanted to get in, and that it was his 
 place to get up and let us in. 
 
 "Horses to-night?" he gasped, throwing up his 
 
ONTHEROAD 297 
 
 hands. "Holy Moses ! I couldn t think of letting the 
 worst plug of the lot out in this storm." 
 
 "Well, I want your best." 
 
 "You ll have to do it, Dick," said Fitzhugh with 
 a few words of explanation. "He ll make it all 
 right for you." 
 
 "Where are you going?" said Thatcher. 
 
 "Oakland." 
 
 He threw up his hands once more. 
 
 "Great Scott! you can t do it. The horses can t 
 travel fifty miles at night and in this weather. You d 
 best wait for the morning train. The express will be 
 through here before five." 
 
 I hesitated a moment, but the chances of being 
 stopped were too great. 
 
 "I must go," I said decidedly. "I can t wait here." 
 
 "I have it," said Thatcher. "By hard riding you 
 can get to Niles in time to catch the freight as it goes 
 up from San Jose. It will get you down in time for 
 the first boat, if that s what you want." 
 
 "Good! How far is it?" 
 
 "We call it eighteen miles, it s a little over that; 
 by the road. There s only one nasty bit. That s in 
 the canyon." 
 
 "I think we shall need the pleasure of your com 
 pany," I said. 
 
 The stableman was moved by a conflict of feel 
 ings. He was much indisposed to a twenty-mile 
 ride in the storm and darkness; yet he was plainly 
 unwilling to trust his horses unless he went with 
 
298 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 them. I offered him a liberal price for the ser 
 vice. 
 
 "It s a bad job, but if you must, you must," he 
 groaned. And he soon had three horses under the 
 saddle. 
 
 I eyed the beasts with some disfavor. They were 
 evidently half -mustang, and I thought undersized 
 for such a journey. But I was to learn before the 
 night was out the virtues of strength and endurance 
 that lie in the blood of the Indian horse. 
 
 "Hist! What s that?" said Fitzhugh, extinguish 
 ing the light. 
 
 The voices of the storm and the uneasy champing 
 of the horses were the only sounds that rewarded a 
 minute s listening. 
 
 "We must chance it," said I, after looking 
 cautiously into the darkness, and finding no signs 
 of a foe. 
 
 And in a moment more we were galloping down the 
 street, the hoof-beats scarcely sounding in the soft 
 ened earth of the roadway. Not a word was spoken 
 after the start as we turned through the side streets 
 to avoid the approaches to the hotel. I looked and 
 listened intently, expecting each bunch of deeper 
 darkness in the streets to start into life with shouts 
 of men and crack of revolvers in an effort to stay our 
 flight. Thatcher led the way, and Fitzhugh rode by 
 my side. 
 
 "Look there!" cried Fitzhugh in my ear. 
 "There s some one running to the hotel !" 
 
ON THE ROAD 299 
 
 I looked, and thought I could see a form moving 
 through the blackness. The hotel could just be dis 
 tinguished two blocks away. It might well be a 
 scout of the enemy hastening to give the alarm. 
 
 "Never mind," I said. "We ve got the start." 
 
 Thatcher suddenly turned to the west, and in an 
 other minute we were on the open highway, with the 
 steady beat of the horses hoofs splashing a wild 
 rhythm on the muddy road. 
 
 The wind, which had been behind us,now r whipped 
 the rain into our faces from the left, half blinding 
 us as the gusts sent the spray into our eyes, then 
 tugged fiercely at coats and hats as if nothing could 
 be so pleasing to the po\vers of the air as to send our 
 raiment in a watch s flight through the clouds. 
 
 With the town once behind us, I felt my spirits 
 rise with every stroke of the horse s hoofs beneath 
 me. The rain and the wind were friends rather than 
 foes. Yet my arm pained me sharply, and I was 
 forced to carry the reins in the whip hand. 
 
 Here the road was broader, and we rode three 
 abreast, silent, watchful, each busy with his own 
 thoughts, and all alert for the signs of chase behind. 
 Thrice my heart beat fast with the sound in my ears 
 of galloping pursuers. Thrice I laughed to think 
 that the patter of falling drops on the roadway 
 should deceive my sense of sound. Here the track 
 narrowed, and Thatcher shot ahead, flinging mud 
 and water from his horse s heels fair upon us. There 
 it broadened once more, and our willing beasts 
 
300 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 pressed forward and galloped beside the stableman s 
 till the hoofs beat in unison. 
 
 "There!" said Thatcher, suddenly pulling his 
 horse up to a walk. "We re five miles out, and 
 they ve got a big piece to make up if they re on our 
 ,|track. We ll breathe the horses a bit." 
 1 The beasts were panting a little, but chafed at the 
 bits as we walked them, and tossed their heads un 
 easily to the pelting of the storm. 
 
 "Hark !" I cried. "Did you hear that?" I was al 
 most certain that the sound of a faint halloo came 
 from behind us. I was not alone in the thought. 
 
 "The dern fools !" said Fitzhugh. "They want a 
 long chase, I guess, to go through the country yell 
 ing like a pack of wild Injuns." 
 
 "I reckon twas an owl," said Thatcher; "but we 
 might as well be moving. We needn t take no chances 
 while we ve got a good set of heels under us. Get 
 up, boys." 
 
 The willing brutes shot forward into the darkness 
 at the word, and tossed the rain-drops from their 
 ears with many an angry nod. 
 
 Of the latter part of the journey I have but a con- 
 | fused remembrance. I had counted myself a good 
 rider in former days, but I had not mounted a horse 
 for years. I had slept but little in forty-eight hours, 
 and, worst of all, my arm pained me more and more. 
 With the fatigue and the jar of the steady gallop, 
 it seemed to swell until it was the body and I the 
 poor appendage to it. My head ached from the blow 
 
ON THE ROAD 301 
 
 it had got, and in a stupor of dull pain I covered the 
 weary miles. But for the comfortable Mexican sad 
 dle I fear I should have sunk under the fatigue and 
 distress of the journey and left friends and enemies 
 to find their way out of the maze as best they might. 
 
 I have a dim recollection of splashing over miles 
 of level road, drenched with water and buffeted by 
 gusts of wind that faced us more and more, with the 
 monotonous beat of hoofs ever in my ears, and the 
 monotonous stride of the horse beneath me ever rack 
 ing my tired muscles. Then we slackened pace in a 
 road that wound in sharp descent through a gap 
 in the hills, with the rush and roar of a torrent be 
 neath and beside us, the wind sweeping with wild 
 blasts through the trees that lined the way and cov 
 ered the hillside and seeming to change the direction 
 of its attack at every moment. 
 
 "We ll make it, I reckon," said Thatcher, at last. 
 "It s only two miles farther, and the train hasn t 
 gone up yet." 
 
 The horses by this time were w r ell-blown. The road 
 was heavy, and we had pressed them hard. Yet 
 they struggled with spirit as they panted, and an 
 swered to the whip when we called on them for the 
 last stretch as we once more found a level road. 
 
 There was no sign of life about the station as we 
 drew our panting, steaming horses to a halt before 
 it, and no train was in sight. The rain dripping 
 heavily from the eaves was the only sound that came 
 from it, and a dull glow from an engine that lay 
 
302 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 alone on a siding was the only light that was to be 
 seen. 
 
 "What s the time?" asked Thatcher. "We must 
 have made a quick trip." 
 
 "Twenty minutes past three," said I, striking a 
 match under my coat to see my watch-face. 
 
 "Immortal snakes!" cried Thatcher. "I m an 
 idiot. This is Sunday night." 
 
 I failed to see the connection of these startling 
 discoveries, but I had spirit enough to argue the case. 
 "It s Monday morning, now." 
 
 "Well, it s the same thing. The freight doesn t 
 run to-night." 
 
 I awoke to some interest at this announcement. 
 
 "Why, it s got to run, or we must take to saddle 
 again for the rest of the way." 
 
 "These horses can t go five miles more at that 
 gait, let alone twenty-five," protested Thatcher. 
 
 "Well, then, we must get other horses here." 
 
 "Come," said Fitzhugh; "what s the use of that 
 when there s an engine on the siding doing nothing?" 
 
 "Just the idea. Find the man in charge." 
 
 But there did not appear to be any man in charge. 
 The engineer and. fireman were gone, arid the watch 
 man had been driven to cover by the foul weather. 
 
 We looked the iron horse over enviously. 
 
 "Why, this is the engine that came up with the 
 special this noon," said Fitzhugh. "I remember the 
 number." 
 
 "Good ! We are ahead of the enemy, then. They 
 
ON THE ROAD 303 
 
 haven t had a chance to get the wire, and we beat 
 them on the road. We must find the engineer and 
 get it ourselves." 
 
 "I ve got an idea," said Fitzhugh. "It s this: 
 why not take the machine without asking? I was 
 a fireman once, and I can run it pretty well." 
 
 I thought a moment on the risk, but the need was 
 greater. 
 
 "Just the thing. Take the money for the horses 
 to your friend there. I ll open the switch." 
 
 In a few minutes Fitzhugh was back. 
 
 "I told him," he chuckled. "He says it s a jail 
 offense, but it s the only thing we can do." 
 
 "It may be a case of life and death," I said. "Pull 
 out." 
 
 "There s mighty little steam here hardly enough 
 to move her," said Fitzhugh from the cab, stirring 
 the fire. 
 
 But as he put his hand to the lever she did move 
 easily on to the main track, and rested while I re 
 set the switch. 
 
 Then I climbed back into the cab, and sank down 
 before the warm blaze in a stupor of faintness as 
 the engine glided smoothly and swiftly down the 
 track. 
 
CHAPTER XXV 
 
 A FLUTTER IN THE MARKET 
 
 The gray pall of the storm hung over San Fran 
 cisco. The dim light of the morning scarcely pene 
 trated into the hallways as we climbed the stairs that 
 led to our lodgings, leaving behind us the trail of 
 dripping garments. I heaved a sigh of relief as Trent 
 opened the door, and we once more faced the pleas 
 ing prospect of warmth, dry clothing and friends. 
 
 We had made the run from Niles without incident, 
 and had left the engine on a siding at Brooklyn 
 without being observed. If the railroad company 
 still has curiosity, after all these years, to know how 
 that engine got from Niles to Brooklyn, I trust that 
 the words I have just written may be taken as an ex 
 planation and apology. 
 
 "Where s Barkhouse?" I asked, becoming com 
 fortable once more with dry clothes, a warm room 
 and a fresh bandage on my arm. 
 
 "He hasn t shown up, sir/ said Trent. "Owens 
 and Larson went out to look for him toward evening 
 yesterday, but there wasn t a sign of him." 
 
 "Try again to-day. You may pick up news at 
 Borton s or some of the water-front saloons." 
 
 304 
 
A FLUTTER IN THE MARKET 305 
 
 "Oh, there was a letter for you," said Trent. "I 
 near forgot." 
 
 I snatched the envelope, for the address was in 
 the hand of the Unknown. The sheet within bore 
 the words : 
 
 "Where is the boy? Have you removed him? 
 Send the key to Richmond. Let me know when you 
 return, for I must see you as soon as it is safe." 
 
 I read the note three or four times, and each time 
 I was more bewildered than before. I had left the 
 boy in Livermore, but certainly he was not the one 
 she meant. He was the "wrong boy," and my em 
 ployer must be well aware that I had taken him at 
 her orders. Or could that expedition be a jest of 
 the enemy to divert my attention? I dismissed this 
 theory as soon as it suggested itself. 
 
 But where w r as the "right boy"? I had for a 
 moment a sinking feeling of terror in the thought 
 that the enemy had captured him. Mother Borton s 
 warning that they had found his place of hiding re 
 turned to confirm this thought. But in an instant I 
 remembered that the enemy had followed me in force 
 to Livermore in chase of the wrong boy, and had at 
 tacked me in pure chagrin at the trick that had been 
 played on them. That showed me beyond ques 
 tion that they had not obtained possession of the 
 right boy. And the "key" that I was to send to 
 Richmond, what was that ? 
 
 The closing portion of the note set my heart beat- 
 
306 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 ing fast. At last I was to have the opportunity to 
 meet my mysterious employer face to face. But 
 what explanation was I to make? What reception 
 would I meet when she learned that Henry Wilton 
 had given up his life in her service, and that I, who 
 had taken his place, could tell nothing of the things 
 she wished to know ? 
 
 I wrote a brief note to Richmond stating that I 
 had no key, inclosed the Unknown s note, with the 
 remark that I had returned, and gave it to Owens 
 to deliver. I was in some anxiety lest he might not 
 know where Richmond was to be found. But he 
 took the note without question, and I lay down with 
 orders that I was to be called in time to reach the 
 opening session of the stock market, and in a mo 
 ment was fast asleep. 
 
 The Stock Exchange was a boiling and bubbling 
 mass of excited men as I reached it. Pine Street, 
 wet and sloppy, was lined with a mob of umbrellas 
 that sheltered anxious speculators of small degree, 
 and the great building was thronged with the larger 
 dealers with millionaires and brokers, with men 
 who were on their way to fortune, and those who 
 had been millionaires and now were desperately 
 struggling against the odds of fate as they saw their 
 wealth swept away in the gamblers whirlpool. 
 
 I shouldered my way through the crowd into the 
 buzzing Board-room as the session opened. Excite 
 ment thrilled the air, but the opening was listless. 
 
A FLUTTER IN THE MARKET 307 
 
 All knew that the struggle over Omega was to be 
 settled that day, and that Doddridge Knapp or 
 George Decker was to find ruin at the end of the call, 
 and all were eager to hasten the decisive moment. 
 
 Wallbridge came panting before me, his round, 
 bald head bobbing with excitement. 
 
 "Ready for the fray, eh? Oh, it s worth money 
 to see this. Talk of your theaters now, eh? Got 
 any orders?" 
 
 "Not yet," I returned, hardly sharing the little 
 man s enjoyment of the scene. The size of the stakes 
 made me tremble. 
 
 I could see nothing of Doddridge Knapp, and the 
 uneasy feeling that he was at Livermore came over 
 me. What was my duty in case he did not appear ? 
 Had he left his fortune at the mercy of the market 
 to follow his lawless schemes ? Had he been caught 
 in his own trap, and was he now to be ruined as the 
 result of his own acts ? For a moment I felt a venge 
 ful hope that he might have come to grief. But when 
 I remembered that it was Luella who must suffer 
 with him, I determined to make an effort to save the 
 deal, even without authority, if the money or credit 
 for buying the remaining shares was to be had. 
 
 I might have spared my worry. The call had not 
 proceeded far, when the massive form of Doddridge 
 Knapp appeared at the railing. The strong wolf- 
 marks of the face were stronger than ever as he 
 watched the scene on the floor. I looked in vain for 
 a trace upon him of last night s work. If he had 
 
308 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 been at Livermore, he showed no sign of the passions 
 or anxieties that had filled the dark hours. 
 
 He nodded carelessly for me to come to him as 
 he caught my eye. 
 
 "You have the stock ?" 
 
 "All safe." 
 
 "And the proxies?" 
 
 "Just as you ordered." 
 
 The King of the Street looked at me sharply. 
 
 "I told you to keep sober till this deal was over," 
 he growled. 
 
 "You are obeyed," I said. "I have not touched a 
 drop." 
 
 "Well, you look as though you had taken a romp 
 with the devil," he said. 
 
 "I have," I returned with a meaning look. 
 
 His eyes fell before my steady gaze, and he 
 turned them on the noisy throng before us. 
 
 "Any orders ?" I asked at last. 
 
 "Be where I can call you the minute I want you," 
 he replied. 
 
 "Now, my boy," he continued after a minute, "you 
 are going to see what hasn t been seen in the Boards 
 for years, and I reckon you ll never see it again." 
 
 "What is it ?" I asked politely. I was prepared for 
 almost any kind of fire-works in that arena. 
 
 Doddridge Knapp made no reply, but raised his 
 hand as if to command silence, and a moment later 
 the call of Omega was heard. And, for a marvel, a 
 strange stillness did fall on the throng. 
 
A FLUTTER IN THE MARKET 309 
 
 At the word of call I saw Doddridge Knapp step 
 down to the floor of the pit, calm, self-possessed, 
 his shoulders squared and his look as proud and 
 forceful as that of a monarch who ruled by the might 
 of his sword, while a grim smile played about his 
 stern mouth. 
 
 The silence of the moment that followed was al 
 most painful. In that place it seemed the most un 
 natural of prodigies. Brokers, speculators and spec 
 tators were as surprised as I, and a long-drawn 
 "Ah-h !" followed by a buzzing as of a great swarm 
 of bees greeted his appearance. The stillness and the 
 buzzing seemed to take an hour, but it could not have 
 been as much as a minute when the voice of Dodd 
 ridge Knapp rang like a trumpet through the Board 
 room. 
 
 "Five hundred for Omega !" 
 
 This was a wild jump from the three hundred and 
 twenty-five that was marked against the stock at the 
 close on Saturday, but I supposed the King f the 
 Street knew what he was about. 
 
 At the bid of Doddridge Knapp a few cries rose 
 here and there, and he was at once the center of a 
 group of gesticulating brokers. Then I saw Decker, 
 pale, eager, alert, standing by the rail across the 
 room, signaling orders to men who howled bids and 
 plunged wildly into the crowd that surrounded his 
 rival. 
 
 The bids and offers came back and forth with 
 shouts and barks, yet they made but a murmur com- 
 
310 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 pared to the whirlwind of sound that had arisen 
 from the pit at the former struggles I had witnessed. 
 There seemed but few blocks of the stock on the 
 market. Yet the air was electric with the tense strain 
 of thousands of minds eager to catch the faintest 
 indication of the final result, and I found it more ex 
 citing than the wildest days of clamor and struggle. 
 
 "This is great," chuckled Wallbridge, taking post 
 before me. "There hasn t been anything like it since 
 Decker captured dollar in the election of seventy- 
 three. You don t remember that, I guess?" 
 
 "I wasn t in the market then," I admitted. 
 
 "Lord ! Just to hear that !" cried the stout little 
 man, mopping his glistening head frantically and 
 quivering with nervous excitement. "Doddridge 
 Knapp bids fifteen hundred for the stock and only 
 gets five shares. Oh, why ain t I a chance to get into 
 this?" 
 
 I heard a confused roar, above which rose the 
 fierce tones of Doddridge Knapp. 
 
 "How many shares has he got to-day?" I asked. 
 
 "Not forty yet." 
 
 "And the others?" 
 
 "There s been about two thousand sold." 
 
 I gripped the rail in nervous tension. The battle 
 seemed to be going against the King of the Street. 
 
 "Oh !" gasped Wallbridge, trembling with excite 
 ment. "Did you hear that ? There! It s seventeen 
 hundred now it s seventeen-fif ty ! Whew!" 
 
 I echoed the exclamation. 
 
A FLUTTER IN THE MARKET 311 
 
 "Oh, why haven t I got ten thousand shares?" he 
 groaned. 
 
 "Who is getting them?" 
 
 "Knapp got the last lot. O-oh, look there ! Did 
 you ever see the like of that ?" 
 
 I looked. Decker, hatless, with hair disheveled, 
 had leaped the rail and was hurrying into the throng 
 that surrounded Doddridge Knapp. 
 
 "There was never two of em on the floor before," 
 cried Wallbridge. 
 
 At Decker s appearance the brokers opened a lane 
 to him, the cries fell, and there was an instant of 
 silence, as the kings of the market thus came face to 
 face. 
 
 I shall never forget the sight. Doddridge Knapp, 
 massive, calm, forceful, surveyed his opponent with 
 unruffled composure. He was dressed in a light 
 gray-brown suit that made him seem larger than 
 ever. Decker was nervous, disheveled, his dress 
 of black setting off the pallor of his face, till it 
 seemed as white as his shirt bosom, as he fronted the 
 King of the Street. 
 
 The foes faced each other, watchful as two wrest 
 lers looking to seize an opening, and the Board-room 
 held its breath. Then the crowd of brokers closed 
 in again and the clamor rose once more. 
 
 I could not make out the progress of the contest, 
 but the trained ear of Wallbridge interpreted the 
 explosions of inarticulate sound. 
 
 "Phew! listen to that! Two thousand, twenty- 
 
312 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 one hundred, twenty-one fifty. Great snakes! See 
 her jump !" he cried. "Decker s getting it." 
 
 My heart sank. Doddridge Knapp must have 
 smothered his brain once more in the Black Smoke, 
 and was now paying the price of indulgence. And 
 his plans of wealth were a sacrifice to the wild and 
 criminal scheme into which he had entered in his 
 contest against the Unknown. I saw the wreck of 
 fortune engulf Mrs. Knapp and Luella, and groaned 
 in spirit. Then a flash of hope shot through me. 
 Luella Knapp, the heiress to millions, was beyond 
 my dreams, but Luella Knapp, the daughter of a 
 ruined speculator, would not be too high a prize for 
 a poor man to set his eyes upon. 
 
 The clang of the gong recalled me from the 
 reverie that had shut out the details of the scene be 
 fore me. 
 
 "There! Did you hear that?" groaned Wall- 
 bridge. "Omega closes at two thousand six hundred 
 and Decker takes every trick. Oh, why didn t you 
 have me on the floor out there? By the great horn 
 spoon, I d a had every share of that stock, and 
 wouldn t a paid more than half as much for it, 
 neither." 
 
 I sighed and turned, sick at heart, to meet the 
 King of the Street as he shouldered his way from 
 the floor. 
 
 There was not a trace of his misfortune to be read 
 in his face. But Decker, the victor, moved away 
 like a man oppressed, pale, staggering, half-fainting, 
 
A FLUTTER IN THE MARKET 313 
 
 as though the nervous strain had brought him to the 
 edge of collapse. 
 
 Doddridge Knapp made his way to the doors and 
 signed me to follow him, but spoke no word until 
 we stood beside the columns that guard the entrance. 
 
 The rain fell in a drizzle, but anxious crowds lined 
 the streets, dodged into doorways for shelter, or 
 boldly moved across the walks and the cobbled road 
 way under the protection of bobbing umbrellas. The 
 news of the unprecedented jump in Omega in which 
 the price had doubled thrice in a few minutes, had 
 flown from mouth to mouth, and excitement was at 
 fever heat. 
 
 "That was warm work," said Doddridge Knapp 
 after a moment s halt. 
 
 "I was very sorry to have it turn out so/ I said. 
 
 A grim smile passed over his face. 
 
 "I wasn t/ he growled good-humoredly. "I 
 thought it was rather neatly done." 
 
 I looked at him in surprise. 
 
 "Oh, I forgot that I hadn t seen you," he con 
 tinued. "And like enough I shouldn t have told you! 
 if I had. The truth is, I found a block of four 1 
 thousand shares on Saturday night, and made a com 
 bination with them." 
 
 "Then the mine is yours ?" 
 
 "The directors will be." 
 
 "But you were buying shares this morning." 
 
 "A mere optical illusion, Wilton. I was in fact a 
 seller, for I had shares to spare." 
 
3i4 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "It was a very good imitation." 
 
 "I don t wonder you were taken in, my boy. 
 Decker was fooled to the tune of about a million 
 dollars this morning. I thought it was rather neat 
 for a clean-up." 
 
 I thought so, too, and the King of the Street 
 smiled at my exclamations over his cleverness. But 
 my congratulations were cut short as a small dark 
 man pressed his way to the corner where we stood, 
 and whispered in Doddridge Knapp s ear. 
 
 "Was he sure?" asked the King of the Street. 
 
 "Those were his exact words." 
 
 "When was this?" 
 
 "Not five minutes ago." 
 
 "Run to Caswell s. Tell him to wait for me." 
 
 The messenger darted off and we followed briskly. 
 Caswell, I found, was an attorney, and we were led 
 at once to the inner office. 
 
 "Come in with me," said my employer. "I expect 
 I shall need you, and it will save explanations." 
 
 The lawyer was a tall, thin man, with chalky, ex 
 pressionless features, but his eyes gave life to his 
 face with their keen, almost brilliant, vision. 
 
 "Decker s playing the joker," said the King of the 
 Street. "I ve beaten him in the market, but he s 
 going to make a last play with the directors. There s 
 a meeting called for twelve-thirty. They are going 
 to give him a two years contract for milling, and 
 they talk of declaring twenty thousand shares of my 
 stock invalid." 
 
A FLUTTER IN THE MARKET 315 
 
 "How many directors have you got?" 
 
 "Two Barber and myself. Decker thinks he has 
 Barber." 
 
 "Then you want an injunction?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 The lawyer looked at his watch. 
 
 "The meeting is at twelve-thirty. H m. You ll 
 have to hold them for half an hour maybe an 
 hour." 
 
 "Make it half an hour," growled Doddridge 
 Knapp. "Just remember that time is worth a thou 
 sand dollars a second till that injunction is served." 
 
 He went out without another word, and there 
 was a commotion of clerks as we left. 
 
 "How s your nerve, Wilton?" inquired the King 
 of the Street calmly. "Are you ready for some hot 
 work?" 
 
 "Quite ready." 
 
 "Have you a revolver about you?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Very good. I don t want you to kill any one, 
 but it may come in handy as an evidence of your 
 good intentions." 
 
 He led the way to California Street below San- 
 some, where we climbed a flight of stairs and went 
 down a hall to a glass door that bore the gilt and 
 painted letters, "Omega Mining Co., J. D. Storey, 
 Pres t." 
 
 "There s five minutes to spare," said my em 
 ployer. "He may be alone." 
 
316 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 A stout, florid man, with red side-whiskers and a 
 general air of good living, sat by an over-shadowing 
 desk in the handsome office, and looked sourly at us 
 as we entered. He was not alone, for a young man 
 could be seen in a side room that was lettered "Sec 
 retary s Office." 
 
 "Ah, Mr. Knapp," he said, bowing deferentially to 
 the millionaire, and rubbing his fat red hands. "Can 
 I do anything for you to-day ?" 
 
 "I reckon so, Storey. Let me introduce you to 
 Mr. Wilton, one of our coming directors." 
 
 I had an inward start at this information, and Mr. 
 Storey regarded me unfavorably. We professed 
 ourselves charmed to see each other. 
 
 "I suppose it was an oversight that you didn t 
 send me a notice of the directors meeting," said 
 Doddridge Knapp. 
 
 Mr. Storey turned very red, and the King of the 
 Street said in an undertone: "Just lock that door, 
 Wilton." 
 
 "It must have been sent by mail," stammered 
 Storey. "Hi, there! young man, what are you do 
 ing?" he exclaimed, jumping to his feet as I turned 
 the key in the lock. "Open that door again!" 
 
 "No you don t, Storey," came the fierce growl 
 from the throat of the Wolf. "Your game is up." 
 
 "The devil it is!" cried Storey, making a dash 
 past Doddridge Knapp and coming with a rush 
 straight for me. 
 
 "Stop him !" roared my employer. 
 
A FLUTTER IN THE MARKET 317 
 
 I sprang forward and grappled Mr. Storey, but 
 I found him rather a large contract, for I had to 
 favor my left arm. Then he suddenly turned limp 
 and rolled to the floor, his head thumping noisily 
 on a corner of the desk. 
 
 Doddridge Knapp coolly laid a hard rubber ruler 
 down on the desk, and I recognized the source of 
 Mr. Storey s discomfiture. 
 
 "I reckon he s safe for a bit," he growled. "Hullo, 
 what s this?" 
 
 I noted a very pale young man in the doorway of 
 the secretary s office, apparently doubtful whether 
 he should attempt to raise an alarm or hide. 
 
 "You go back in your room and mind your own 
 business, Dodson," said the King of the Street. 
 "Go!" he growled fiercely, as the young man still 
 hesitated. "You know I can make or break you." 
 
 The young man disappeared, and I closed and 
 locked the door on him. 
 
 "There they come," said I, as steps sounded in 
 the hall. 
 
 "Stand by the door and keep them out," whis 
 pered my employer. "I ll see that Storey doesn t gety 
 up. Keep still now. Every minute we gain is ! 
 worth ten thousand dollars." 
 
 I took station by the door as the knob was tried. 
 More steps were heard, and the knob was tried 
 again. Then the door was shaken and picturesque 
 comments were made on the dilatory president. 
 
 Doddridge Knapp looked grim, but serene, as he 
 
318 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 sat on the desk with his foot on the prostrate Storey. 
 I breathed softly, and listened to the rising com 
 plaints from without. 
 
 There were thumps and kicks on the door, and 
 at last a voice roared : 
 
 "What are you waiting for? Break it in." 
 
 A crash followed, and the ground-glass upper 
 section of the door fell in fragments. 
 
 "I beg your pardon, gentlemen," I said, as a man 
 put his hand through the opening. "This revolver 
 is loaded, and the first man to come through there 
 will get a little cold lead in him." 
 
 There was a pause and then a storm of oaths. 
 
 "Get in there !" cried Decker s voice from the rear. 
 "What are you afraid of?" 
 
 "He s got a gun." 
 
 "Well, get in, three or four of you at once. He 
 can t shoot you all." 
 
 This spirited advice did not seem to find favor 
 with the front-rank men, and the enemy retired for 
 consultation. At last a messenger came forward. 
 
 "What do you want?" he asked. 
 
 "I want you to keep out." 
 
 "Who is he?" asked Decker s voice. 
 
 "There s another one there," cried another voice. 
 "Why, it s Doddridge Knapp!" 
 
 Decker made use of some language not intended 
 for publication, and there was whispering for a few 
 minutes, followed by silence. 
 
 I looked at Doddridge Knapp, sitting grim and 
 
A FLUTTER IN THE MARKET 319 
 
 unmoved, counting the minutes till the injunction 
 should come. Suddenly a man bounded through 
 the broken upper section of the door, tossed by his 
 companions, and I found myself in a grapple before 
 I could raise my revolver. 
 
 We went down on the floor together, and I had a 
 confused notion that the door swung open and four 
 or five others rushed into the room. 
 
 I squirmed free from my opponent, and sprang 
 to my feet in time to see the whole pack around 
 Doddridge Knapp. 
 
 The King of the Street sat calm and forceful with 
 a revolver in his hand, and all had halted, fearing to 
 go farther. 
 
 "Don t come too close, gentlemen," growled the 
 Wolf. 
 
 Then I saw one of the men raise a six-shooter to 
 aim at the defiant figure that faced them. I gave 
 a spring and with one blow laid the man on the 
 floor. There was a flash of fire as he fell, and a 
 deafening noise was in my ears. Men all about me 
 were striking at me. I scarcely felt their blows as I 
 warded them off and returned them, for I was half- 
 mad with the desperate sense of conflict against 
 odds. But at last I felt myself seized in an iron 
 grip, and in a moment was seated beside Doddridge 
 Knapp on the desk. 
 
 "The time is up," he said. "There s the sheriff 
 and Caswell with the writ." 
 
 "I congratulate you," I answered, my head still 
 
320 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 swimming, noting that the enemy had drawn back 
 at the coming of reinforcements. 
 
 "Good heavens, man, you re hurt!" he cried, 
 pointing to my left sleeve where a blood stain was 
 spreading. The wound I had received in the night 
 conflict at Livermore had reopened in the struggle. 
 "It s nothing," said I. "Just a scratch." 
 "Here! get a doctor!" cried the King of the 
 Street. "Gentlemen, the directors meeting is post 
 poned, by order of court." 
 
CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 A YISIOX OF THE NIGHT 
 
 "You arc a very imprudent person,** said 
 smiling, yet with a most charming trace of anxiety 
 
 -in :er :r.e smile. 
 
 Vhat have I been doing now?* I asked. 
 That is what yon are to tefl me, Papa told us a 
 
 .i".e -i .r r -i i " r~r 5.1 ""ir.c .".is .ne -ir*. : .v.s 7-.Lr.-S ~-~.is 
 morning; bat he was so ?ery short about it Let me 
 know the whole story from your own month. Was 
 this the arm that was hurt?** 
 
 I started to give a brief description of my morn- 
 i:".< s Ai "eriv.i f ry.T ",\e"c ..s srrv.c r.ir.^ in """ .is- 
 :,::tr s :i;e :;u: -lle-d ::rJ: ie:^il Af:er ie:nil i.-i 
 her eyes kindled as I told the tale of the battle that 
 won Omega in die stock Board, and die fight that 
 res.r-.ie-: :l:e :"ii:s :: i::;r. i:: :he ;m:e ;: 
 
 "There is somrthmg fine in it, after afl," die said 
 when I was thiough. "There is arm^tlimg left of 
 
 :l:e scir:: ;: :he :1: .1^ e:.:.irers An: :r.e kr.i~l::f 
 Oh. I wish I were a man! No, I don t either. Fd 
 rather he the daughter of a man a real 
 I know I am that" 
 
322 . BLINDFOLDED 
 
 I thought of the Doddridge Knapp that she did 
 not know, and a pang of pity and sorrow wrenched 
 my heart. 
 
 She saw the look, and misinterpreted it. 
 
 "You do not think, do you," she said softly, "that 
 I don t appreciate your part in it? Indeed I do." 
 
 I took her hand, and she let it lie a moment before 
 she drew it away. 
 
 "I think I am more than repaid," I said. 
 
 "Oh, yes," said she, changing her tone to one of 
 complete indifference. "Papa said he had made you 
 a director." 
 
 "Yes," I said, taking my cue from her manner. 
 "I have the happiness to share the honor with three 
 other dummies. Your father makes the fifth." 
 
 "How absurd !" laughed Luella. "Do you want to 
 provoke me?" 
 
 "Oh, of course, I mean that your father does the 
 thinking, and " 
 
 "And you punch the head he points out to you, I 
 suppose," said Luella sarcastically. 
 
 "Exactly," I said. "And" 
 
 "Don t mind me, Henry," interrupted the voice of 
 Mrs. Knapp. 
 
 "But I must," said I, giving her greeting. "What 
 service do you require?" 
 
 "Tell me what you have been doing." 
 
 "I have just been telling Miss Luella." 
 
 "And what, may I ask?" 
 
 "I was explaining this morning s troubles." 
 
A VISION OF THE NIGHT 323 
 
 "Oh, I heard a little of them from Mr. Knapp. 
 Have you had any more of your adventures at Bor- 
 ton s and other dreadful places?" 
 
 I glanced at Luella. She was leaning forward, 
 her chin resting on her hand, and her eyes were 
 fixed on me with close attention. 
 
 "I should like to hear of them, too," she said. 
 
 I considered a moment, and then, as I could see 
 no reason for keeping silent, I gave a somewhat 
 abridged account of my Livermore trip, omitting 
 reference to the strange vagaries of the Doddridge 
 Knapp who traveled by night. 
 
 I had reason to be flattered by the attention of 
 my audience. Both women leaned forward with 
 wide-open eyes, and followed every word with 
 eager interest. 
 
 "That was a dreadful danger you escaped," said 
 Mrs. Knapp with a shudder. "I am thankful, in 
 deed, to see you with us with no greater hurt." 
 
 Luella said nothing, but the look she gave me set 
 my heart dancing in a way that all Mrs. Knapp s 
 praise could not. 
 
 "I do hope this dreadful business will end soon," 
 said Mrs. Knapp. "Do you think this might be the 
 last of it?" 
 
 "No," said I, remembering the note I had re 
 ceived from the Unknown on my return, "there s 
 much more to be done." 
 
 "I hope you are ready for it," said Mrs. Knapp, 
 with a troubled look upon her face. 
 
324 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "As ready as I ever shall be, I suppose," I re 
 plied. "If the guardian angel who has pulled me 
 through this far will hold on to his job, I ll do my 
 part." 
 
 Mrs. Knapp raised a melancholy smile, but it dis 
 appeared at once, and she seemed to muse in silence, 
 with no very pleasant thought on her mind. Twice 
 or thrice I thought she wished to speak to me, but 
 if so she changed her mind. 
 
 I ventured a few observations that were intended 
 to be jocose, but she answered in the monosyllables 
 of preoccupation, and I turned to Luella. 
 
 She gave back flashes of brightness, but I saw on 
 her face the shadow of her mother s melancholy, 
 and I rose at an early hour to take my leave. 
 
 "I wonder at you," said Luella softly, as we stood 
 alone for a moment. 
 
 "You have little cause." 
 
 "What you have done is much. You have con 
 quered difficulties." 
 
 I looked in her calm eyes, and my soul came to 
 the surface. 
 
 "I wish you might be proud of me," I said. 
 
 "I I am proud of such a friend except " She 
 hesitated. 
 
 "Always an except/ " I said half -bitterly. 
 
 "But you have promised to tell me " 
 
 "Some day. As soon as I may." Under her mag 
 netic influence, I should have told her then had she 
 urged me. And not until I was once more outside 
 
A VISION OF THE NIGHT 325 
 
 the house did I recall how impossible it was that I 
 could ever tell her. 
 
 "What shall I do? What shall I do?" was the re 
 frain that ran through my brain insistently, as the 
 battle between love and duty rose and swelled. And 
 I was sorely tempted to tell the Unknown to look 
 elsewhere for assistance, and to bury the memory 
 of my dead friend and the feud with Doddridge 
 Knapp in a common grave. 
 
 "Here s some one to see you, sir," said Owens, as 
 I reached the walk, and joined the guards I had left 
 to wait for me. The rain had ceased, but the wind, 
 which had fallen during the day, was freshening 
 once more from the south. 
 
 "Yes, sor, you re wanted at Mother Borton s in 
 a hurry," said another voice, and a man stepped 
 forward. "There s the divil to pay!" 
 
 I recognized the one-eyed man who had done me 
 the service that enabled me to escape from Liver- 
 more. 
 
 "Ah, Broderick, what s the matter?" 
 
 "I didn t get no orders, sor, so I don t know, but 
 there was the divil s own shindy in the height of 
 progression when I left. And Mother Borton says 
 I was to come hot-foot for you, and tell you to come 
 with your men if ye valued your sowl." 
 
 "Is she in danger?" 
 
 "I reckon the thought was heavy on her mind, 
 for her face was white with the terror of it." 
 
 We hastened forward, but at the next corner a 
 
326 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 passing hack stood ready for passengers, and we 
 rolled down the street, the horses hoofs outstripped 
 by my anxiety and apprehensions. 
 
 One of the men was sent to bring out such of my 
 force as had returned, and I, with the two others, 
 hurried on to Borton s. 
 
 There was none of the sounds of riot I had ex 
 pected to hear as we drew up before it. The lantern 
 blinked outside with its invitation to manifold cheer 
 within. Lights streamed through the window and 
 the half-opened door, and quiet and order reigned. 
 
 As I stepped to the walk, I found the explanation 
 of the change in the person of a policeman, who 
 stood at the door. 
 
 "Holy St. Peter! the cops is on!" whispered 
 Broderick. 
 
 I failed to share his trepidation in the presence 
 of the representative of law and order, and stepped 
 up to the policeman. 
 
 "Has there been trouble here, officer?" I asked. 
 
 "Oh, is it you, sor?" said Corson s hearty voice. 
 "I was wondering about ye. Well, there has been a 
 bit of a row here, and there s a power of broken 
 heads to be mended. There s wan man cut to pieces, 
 and good riddance, for it s Black Dick. I m think 
 ing it s the morgue they ll be taking him to, though 
 it was for the receiving hospital they started with 
 him. It was a dandy row, and it was siventeen ar- 
 rists we made." 
 
 "Where is Mother Borton?" 
 
A VISION OF THE NIGHT 327 
 
 "The ould she-divil s done for this time, I m 
 a-thinking. Whist, I forgot she was a friend of 
 yours, sor." 
 
 "Where is she at the receiving hospital? What 
 is the matter with her?" 
 
 "Aisy, aisy, sor. It may be nothing. She s up 
 stairs. A bit of a cut, they say. Here, Shaughnessy, 
 look out for this door ! I ll take ye up, sor." 
 
 We mounted the creaking stairs in the light of 
 the smoky lamp that stood on the bracket, and Cor- 
 son opened a door for me. 
 
 A flickering candle played fantastic tricks with 
 the furniture, sent shadows dancing over the dingy 
 walls, and gave a weird touch to the two figures that 
 bent over the bed in the corner. The figures 
 straightened up at our entrance, and I knew them 
 for the doctor and his assistant. 
 
 "A friend of the lady, sor," whispered Corson. 
 
 The doctor looked at me in some surprise, but 
 merely bowed. 
 
 "Is she badly hurt?" I asked. 
 
 "I ve seen worse," he answered in a low voice, 
 "but " and he completed the sentence by shrug-- 
 ging his shoulders, as though he had small hopes 
 for his patient. 
 
 Mother Borton turned her head on the pillow, 
 and her gaunt face lighted up at the sight of me. 
 Her eyes shone with a strange light of their own, 
 like the eyes of a night-bird, and there was a fierce 
 eagerness in her look. 
 
328 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "Eh, dearie, I knew you would come," she cried. 
 
 The doctor pushed his way to the bedside. 
 
 "I must insist that the patient be quiet," he said 
 with authority. 
 
 "Be quiet?" cried Mother Borton. "Is it for the 
 likes of you that I d be quiet? You white-washed 
 tombstone raiser, you body-snatcher, do you think 
 you re the man to tell me to hold my tongue when I 
 want to talk to a gentleman ?" 
 
 "Hush!" I said soothingly. "He means right by 
 you." 
 
 "You must lie quiet, or I ll not be responsible for 
 the consequences," said the doctor firmly. 
 
 At these well-meant words Mother Borton raised 
 herself on her elbow, and directed a stream of pro 
 fanity in the direction of the doctor that sent chills 
 chasing each other down my spine, and seemed for 
 a minute to dim the candle that gave its flickering 
 gloom to the room. 
 
 "I ll talk as I please," cried Mother Borton. "It s 
 my last wish, and I ll have it. You tell me I ll 
 live an hour or two longer if I m quiet, but I ll die 
 as I ve lived, a-doin as I please, and have my say as 
 long as I ve got breath to talk. Go out, now all of 
 you but this man. Go !" 
 
 Mother Borton had raised herself upon one el 
 bow; her face, flushed and framed in her gray and 
 tangled hair, was working with anger ; and her eyes 
 were almost lurid as she sent fierce glances at one 
 after another of the men about her. She pointed a 
 
A VISION OF THE NIGHT 329 
 
 skinny finger at the door, and each man as she cast 
 her look upon him went out without a word. 
 
 "Shut the door, honey," she said quietly, lying 
 down once more with a satisfied smile. "That s it. 
 Now me and you can talk cozy-like." 
 
 "You d better not talk. Perhaps you will feel 
 more like it to-morrow." 
 
 "There won t be any to-morrow for me," growled 
 Mother Borton. "I ve seen enough of em carved to 
 know when I ve got the dose myself. Curse that 
 knife!" and she groaned at a twinge of pain. 
 
 "Who did it?" 
 
 "Black Dick curse his soul. And he s roasting 
 in hell for it this minute," cried Mother Borton 
 savagely. 
 
 "Hush!" I said. "You mustn t excite yourself. 
 Can t I get you a minister or a priest?" 
 
 Mother Borton spat out another string of oaths. 
 
 "Priest or minister! Not for me! Not one has 
 passed my door in all the time I ve lived, and he ll 
 not do it to-night. What could he tell me that I 
 don t know already? I ve been on the road to hell 
 for fifty years, and do you think the devil wall let 
 go his grip for a man that don t know me? No, 
 dearie; your face is better for me than priest or 
 minister, and I want you to close my eyes and see 
 that I m buried decent. Maybe you ll remember 
 Mother Borton for something more than a vile old 
 woman when she s gone." 
 
 "That I shall," I exclaimed, touched by her tone, 
 
330 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 and taking the hand that she reached out to mine. 
 "I ll do anything you want, but don t talk of dying. 
 There s many a year left in you yet." 
 
 "There s maybe an hour left in me. But we must 
 hurry. Tell me about your trouble at Livermore, 
 was it?" 
 
 I gave her a brief account of the expedition and 
 its outcome. Mother Borton listened eagerly, giv 
 ing an occasional grunt of approval. 
 
 "Well, honey; I was some good to ye, after all," 
 was her comment. 
 
 "Indeed, yes." 
 
 "And you had a closer shave for your life than 
 you think," she continued. "Tom Terrill swore he d 
 kill ye, and it s one of the miracles, sure, that he 
 didn t." 
 
 "Well, Mother Borton, Tom Ten-ill s laid up in 
 Livermore with a broken head, and I m safe here 
 with you, ready to serve you in any way that a man 
 may." 
 
 "Safe safe?" mused Mother Borton, an absent 
 look coming over her skinny features, as though her 
 mind wandered. Then she turned to me impres 
 sively. "You ll never be safe till you change your 
 work and your name. You ve shut your ears to my 
 words while I m alive, but maybe you ll think of em 
 when I m in my coffin. I tell you now, my boy, 
 there s murder and death before you. Do you hear ? 
 Murder and death." 
 
 She sank back on her pillow and gazed at me with 
 
A VISION OF THE NIGHT 331 
 
 a wearied light in her eyes and a sibyl look on her 
 face. 
 
 "I think I understand/ I said gently. "I have 
 faced them and I ought to know them." 
 
 "Then you ll you ll quit your job you ll be 
 yourself?" 
 
 "I can not. I must go on." 
 
 "And why?" 
 
 "My friend his work his murderer." 
 
 "Have you got the man who murdered Henry 
 Wilton?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Have you got a man who will give a word 
 against against you know who?" 
 
 "I have not a scrap of evidence against any one 
 but the testimony of my own eyes," I was compelled 
 to confess. 
 
 "And you can t use it you dare not use it. Now 
 I ll tell you, dearie, I know the man as killed Henry 
 Wilton." 
 
 "Who was it ?" I cried, startled into eagerness. 
 
 "It was Black Dick the cursed scoundrel that s 
 done for me. Oh !" she groaned in pain. 
 
 "Maybe Black Dick struck the blow, but I know 
 the man that stood behind him, and paid him, and 
 protected him, and I ll see him on the gallows be 
 fore I die." 
 
 "Hush," cried Mother Borton trembling. "If he 
 should hear you ! Your throat will be cut yet, dearie, 
 and I m to blame. Drop it, dearie, drop it. The boy 
 
332 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 is nothing to you. Leave him go. Take your own 
 name and get away. This is no place for you. When 
 I m gone there will be no one to warn ye. You ll be 
 killed. You ll be killed." 
 
 Then she moaned, but whether from pain of body 
 or mind I could not guess. 
 
 "Never you fear. I ll take care of myself," I said 
 cheerily. 
 
 She looked at me mournfully. "I am killed for 
 ye, dearie." 
 
 I started, shocked at this news. 
 
 "There," she continued slowly, "I didn t mean to 
 let you know. But they thought I had told ye." 
 
 "Then I have two reasons instead of one for hold 
 ing to my task," I said solemnly. "I have two 
 friends to avenge." 
 
 "You ll make the third yourself," groaned 
 Mother Borton, "unless they put a knife into Bark- 
 house, first, and then you ll be the fourth belike." 
 
 "Barkhouse do you know where he is?" 
 
 "He s in the Den on Davis Street, you know. I 
 was near forgetting to tell ye. Send your men to 
 get him to-night, for he s hurt and like to die. They 
 ^may have to fight. No, don t leave me now." 
 
 "I wasn t going to leave you." 
 
 Mother Borton put her hand to her throat as 
 though she choked, and was silent for a moment. 
 Then she continued : 
 
 "I ll be to blame if I don t tell you I must tell 
 you, Are you listening?" 
 
A VISION OF THE NIGHT 333 
 
 Her voice came thick and strange, and her eyes 
 wandered anxiously about, searching the heavy 
 shadows with a look of growing fear. 
 
 The candle burned down till it guttered and flick 
 ered in its pool of melted tallow, and the shadows it 
 threw upon wall and ceiling seemed instinct with an 
 impish life of their own, as though they were dark 
 spirits from the pit come to mock the final hours of 
 the life that was ebbing away before me. 
 
 "I am listening," I replied. 
 
 "You must know you must know, I must 
 tell you. The boy the woman is " 
 
 On a sudden Mother Borton sat bolt upright in 
 bed, and a shriek, so long, so shrill, so freighted 
 with terror, came from her lips that I shrank from 
 her and trembled, faint with the horror of the place. 
 
 "They come there, they come!" she cried, and 
 throwing up her arms she fell back on the bed. 
 
 The candle shot up into flame, sputtered an in 
 stant, and was gone. And I was alone with the 
 darkness and the dead. 
 
CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 A LINK IN THE CHAIN 
 
 I sprang to my feet. The darkness was instinct 
 with nameless terrors. The air was filled with name 
 less shapes. A spiritual horror surrounded me, and 
 I felt that I must reach the light or cry out. But 
 before I had covered the distance to the door, it was 
 flung open and Corson stood on the threshold; and 
 at the sight of him my courage returned and my 
 shaken nerves grew firm. At the darkness he wav 
 ered and cried : 
 
 "What s the matter here?" 
 
 "She is dead." 
 
 "Rest her sowl ! It s a fearsome dark hole to be 
 in, sor." 
 
 I shuddered as I stood beside him, and brought 
 the lamp from the bracket in the hall. 
 
 Mother Borton lay back staring afTrightedly at 
 the mystic beings who had come for her, but set 
 tled into peace as I closed her eyes and composed 
 her limbs. 
 
 "She was a rare old bird," said Corson when I 
 had done, "but there was some good in her, after 
 all" 
 
 334 
 
A LINK IN THE CHAIN 335 
 
 "She has been a good friend to me," I said, and we 
 called a servant from below and left the gruesome 
 room to his guardianship. 
 
 "And now, there s another little job to be done. 
 There s one of my men a prisoner down on Davis 
 Street. I must get him out." 
 
 "I m with you, sor," said Corson heartily. "I m 
 hopin there s some heads to be cracked." 
 
 I had not counted on the policeman s aid, but I 
 was thankful to accept the honest offer. In the 
 restaurant I found five of my men, and with this 
 force I thought that I might safely attempt an as 
 sault on the Den. 
 
 The Den was a low, two-story building of brick, 
 with a warehouse below, and the quarters of the 
 enemy, approached by a narrow stairway, above. 
 
 "Step quietly," I cautioned my men, as we neared 
 the dark and forbidding entrance. "Keep close to 
 the shadow of the buildings. Our best chance is in a 
 surprise." 
 
 There was no guard at the door that stood open 
 to the street, and we halted a moment before it to 
 make sure of our plans. 
 
 "It s a bad hole," whispered Corson. 
 
 "A fine place for an ambush," I returned dubi 
 ously. 
 
 "Well, there s no help for it," said the policeman. 
 "Come on !" And drawing his club and revolver he 
 stole noiselessly up the stairs. 
 
 I felt my way up step by step, one hand against 
 
336 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 the wall and my shoes scraping cautiously for a rest 
 ing-place, while my men followed in single file with 
 the same silent care. 
 
 But in spite of this precaution, we were not two- 
 thirds the way up the flight before a voice shot out 
 of the darkness. 
 
 "Who s there?" 
 
 We stopped and held our breath. There was a 
 minute of silence, but it was broken by the creak of 
 a board as one of the men shifted his weight. 
 
 "There s some one here!" cried the voice above 
 us. "Halt, or I ll shoot! Peterson! Conn! Come 
 quick!" 
 
 There was no more need for silence, and Corson 
 and I reached the landing just as a door opened that 
 let the light stream fror L within. Two men had 
 sprung to the doorway, and another could be seen 
 faintly outlined in the dark hall. 
 
 "Holy Mother ! it s the cops !" came in an awe- 
 stricken voice at the sight of Corson s star. 
 
 "Right, my hearty !" cried Corson, making a rush 
 for the man, who darted down the hall in an effort 
 to escape. The two men jumped back into the room 
 and tried to close the door, but I was upon them be 
 fore they could swing it shut. Four of my men had 
 followed me close, and with a few blows given and 
 taken, the two were prisoners. 
 
 "Tie them fast," I ordered, and hastened to see 
 how Corson fared. 
 
 I met the worthy policeman in the hall, blown but 
 
A LINK IN THE CHAIN 337 
 
 exultant. Owens was following him, and between 
 them they half-dragged, half-carried the man who 
 had given the alarm. 
 
 "He made a fight for it," puffed Corson, "but I 
 got in wan good lick at him and he wilted. You ll 
 surrinder next time when I tell ye, won t ye, me 
 buck?" 
 
 "Aren t there any more about ?" I asked. "There 
 were more than three left in the gang." 
 
 "If there had been more of us, you d never have 
 got in," growled one of the prisoners. 
 
 "Where s Barkhouse?" I asked. 
 
 "Find him!" \vas the defiant reply. 
 
 We began the search, opening one room after an 
 other. Some were sleeping-rooms, some the meet 
 ing-rooms, while the one we had first entered ap 
 peared to be the guard-room. 
 
 "Hello! What s this?" exclaimed Corson, tap 
 ping an iron door, such as closes a warehouse 
 against fire. 
 
 "It s locked, sure enough," said Owens, after 
 trial. 
 
 "It must be the place we are looking for," I said. 
 "Search those men for keys." 
 
 The search was without result. 
 
 "It s a sledge we must get," said Owens, starting 
 to look about for one. 
 
 "Hould on," said Corson, "I was near forgetting. 
 I ve got a master-key that fits most of these locks. 
 It s handy for closing up a warehouse when some 
 
338 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 clerk with his wits a-wandering forgits his job. So 
 like enough it s good at unlocking." 
 
 It needed a little coaxing, but the bolt at last slid 
 back and the heavy doors swung open. The room 
 was furnished with a large table, a big desk, and a 
 dozen chairs, which sprang out of the darkness as I 
 struck a match and lit the gas. It was evidently the 
 council-room of the enemy. 
 
 "This is illigant," said the policeman, looking 
 around with approval; "but your man isn t here, 
 I d say." 
 
 "Well, it looks as though there might be some 
 thing here of interest," I replied, seizing eagerly 
 upon the papers that lay scattered about upon the 
 desk. "Look in the other rooms while I run through 
 these." 
 
 A rude diagram on the topmost paper caught my 
 eye. It represented a road branching thrice. On the 
 third branch was a cross, and then at intervals four 
 crosses, as if to .mark some features of the landscape. 
 Underneath was written : 
 
 "From B follow I 1-2 m. Take third road 3 
 or 5." 
 
 The paper bore date of that day, and I guessed 
 that it was meant to show the way to the supposed 
 hiding-place of the boy. 
 
 Then, as I looked again, the words and lines 
 touched a cord of memory. Something I had seen 
 or known before was vaguely suggested. I groped 
 in the obscurity for a moment, vainly reaching for 
 
A LINK IN THE CHAIN 339 
 
 the phantom that danced just beyond the grasp of 
 my mental fingers. 
 
 There was no time to lose in speculating, and I 
 turned to the work that pressed before us. But as I 
 thrust the papers into my pocket to resume the 
 search for Barkhouse, the elusive memory flashed 
 on me. The diagram of the enemy recalled the 
 single slip of paper I had found in the pocket of 
 Henry Wilton s coat on the fatal night of my ar 
 rival. I had kept it always with me, for it was the 
 sole memorandum left by him of the business that 
 had brought him to his death. I brought it out, 
 very badly creased and rumpled from much carry 
 ing, but still quite as legible as on the night I had 
 first seen it. 
 
 Placed side by side with the map I had before me, 
 the resemblance was less close than I had thought. 
 Yet all the main features w r ere the same. There was 
 the road branching thrice; a cross in both marked 
 the junction of the third road as though it gave sign 
 of a building or some natural landmark; and the 
 other features were indicated in the same order. No 
 there was a difference in this point; there were 
 five crosses on the third road in the enemy s dia 
 gram, while there were but four in mine. 
 
 In the matter of description the enemy had the 
 advantage, slight as it was. 
 
 "Third road cockeyed barn iron cow," and the 
 confused jumble of drunken letters and figures that 
 Henry had written I could make nothing of these. 
 
340 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "From B follow 11-2 m. Take third road 3 or 
 5" this was at least half-intelligible. 
 
 Then it came on me like a blow, was this the 
 mysterious "key" that the Unknown had demanded 
 of me in her letter of this morning? I turned sick 
 at heart at the thought that my ignorance and inat 
 tention had put the boy in jeopardy. The enemy 
 had perhaps a clue to the hiding-place that the Un 
 known did not possess. The desertion of these head 
 quarters swelled my fears. Though Terrill, dis 
 abled by wounds, was groaning with pain and rage 
 at Livermore, and the night s arrests at Borton s 
 had reduced the numbers of the band, Darby Meeker 
 was still on the active list. And Doddridge Knapp ? 
 He was free now to follow his desperate plot to its 
 end without risking his schemes of fortune. The 
 absence of Meeker, the date of to-day upon the map, 
 suggesting that it had but just come into the hands 
 of the enemy, and the lack of a garrison in the Den, 
 raised the apprehension that fresh mischief was 
 afoot. 
 
 I was roused from my reverie of fears by con 
 fused shouts from down the hall, and sprang hastily 
 to the door, with the thought that the forces of the 
 enemy were upon us. 
 
 "Here he is ! they ve found him," cried an excited 
 voice. 
 
 "Yes, sir! here he comes!" 
 
 It was truly the stalwart guard ; but two days had 
 made a sad change in him. With head bound in a 
 
A LINK IN THE CHAIN 341 
 
 bloody rag, and face of a waxy yellow hue, he stag 
 gered limply out of one of the rear rooms between 
 Corson and Owens. 
 
 Brace up, me boy ! You re worth ten dead men," 
 said the policeman encouragingly. "That s right! 
 you ll be yourself in a jiffy." 
 
 Barkhouse was soon propped up on the lounge in 
 the guard-room, and with a few sips of whisky and 
 a fresh bandage began to look like a more hopeful 
 case. 
 
 " Twas a nasty cut," said one of the men sympa 
 thetically. 
 
 "How did you get it?" I asked. 
 
 "I don t rightly know," said Barkhouse faintly. 
 " Twas the night you went to Mother Borton s last 
 week. After I leaves you, I walks down a piece to 
 wards the bay, and as I gets about to Drumm Street, 
 I guess, a fellow comes along as I takes to be a 
 sailor half-loaded. Hello, mate, he says, a-trying 
 to steady himself, what time did you say it was? 
 I didn t say, says I, for I was too fly to take out 
 my watch, even if it is a nickel-plater, for how could 
 he tell what it was in the dark? and it s good for a 
 dozen drinks at any water-front saloon. Well, what 
 do you make it? he says; and as I was trying to 
 reckon whether it was nearer twelve or one o clock, 
 he lurches up agin me and grabs my arms as if to 
 steady himself. Then three or four fellows jumps 
 from behind a lot of packing-boxes there, and grabs 
 me. I makes a fight for it, and gives one yell, and 
 
342 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 the next I knows I was in a dark room here with 
 the sorest head in San Francisco. An I reckon I ve 
 been here about six days, and another would have 
 finished me." 
 
 Barkhouse s "six days" estimate provoked a 
 smile. 
 
 "If you could get paid on your time reckoning/ 
 remarked Owens in a humorous tone, "you d be 
 well off, Bob. Twas night before last you got 
 took in." 
 
 Barkhouse looked incredulous, but I nodded my 
 support of Owens remarkable statement. 
 
 "However, you ll be paid on your own reckon 
 ing, and better, too," I said; and he was thereby 
 consoled. 
 
 "Now, we must get out of here," I continued. 
 "Take turns by twos in helping Barkhouse. We had 
 better not risk staying here." 
 
 "Right," said Corson, "and now we ll just take 
 these three beauties along to the station." 
 
 "On what charge?" growled the man addressed 
 as Conn. 
 
 "Disturbing the peace you ve disturbed ours for 
 sure resisting an officer, vulgar language, keeping 
 a disorderly house, carrying a pistol without a per 
 mit, and anything else I can think up between here 
 and the station-house. If that doesn t satisfy ye, I ll 
 put ye down for assault and robbery on Barkhouse s 
 story, and ye may look out for a charge of murder 
 before ye git out." 
 
A LINK IN THE CHAIN 343 
 
 The men swore at this cheerful prospect, but as 
 their hands were bound behind them, and Corson 
 walked with his club in one hand and his pistol in the 
 other, they took up the march at command, and the 
 rest of us slowly followed. 
 
CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 THE CHASE IN THE STORM 
 
 When we i cached the entrance to our quarters on 
 Montgomery Street the rain had once more begun 
 to fall, gently now, but the gusts of damp wind 
 from the south promised more and worse to follow. 
 
 "Hello!" cried the first man, starting back. 
 "What s this?" 
 
 The line stopped, and I moved forward. 
 
 "What is it?" I asked. 
 
 "A message for you, Mr. Wilton," said a voice 
 suddenly from the recess of the doorway. 
 
 "Give it to me," I said. 
 
 A slip of paper was thrust into my hand, and I 
 passed up the stairs. 
 
 "I ll wait for you/ said the messenger, and at 
 the first gas-jet that burned at the head of the stairs 
 I stopped to read the address. 
 
 It was in the hand of the Unknown, and my 
 fatigue and indifference were gone in a moment. I 
 trembled as I tore open the envelope, and read : 
 
 "Follow the bearer of this note at 12:30. Come 
 alone and armed. It is important." 
 
 344 
 
THE CHASE IN THE STORM 345 
 
 There was no signature. 
 
 If this meant anything it meant that I was to 
 meet the Unknown, and perhaps to search the heart 
 of the mystery. I had been heavy with fatigue and 
 drowsy with want of sleep, but at this thought the 
 energies of life were once more fresh within me. 
 
 With my new-found knowledge it might be more 
 important than even the Unknown was aware, that 
 we should meet. To me, the map, the absence of 
 Darby Meeker and his men, the mysterious hints 
 of murder and death that had come from the lips of 
 Mother Borton, were but vaguely suggestive. But 
 to the Unknown, with her full knowledge of the 
 objects sought by the enemy and the motives that 
 animated their ceaseless pursuit, the darkness might 
 be luminous, the obscurity clear. 
 
 The men had waited a minute for me as I read 
 the note. 
 
 "Go to your rooms and get some rest," I said. "I 
 am called away. Trent will be in charge, and I will 
 send word to him if I need any of you." 
 
 They looked at me in blank protest. 
 
 "You re not going alone, sir?" cried Owens in a 
 tone of alarm. 
 
 "Oh, no. But I shall not need a guard." I hoped 
 heartily that I did not. 
 
 The men shook their heads doubtfully, and I con 
 tinued : 
 
 "Corson will be down from the Central Station in 
 fifteen or twenty minutes. Just tell him that I ve 
 
346 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 been sent for, and to come to-morrow if he can 
 make it in his way." 
 
 And bidding them good night I ran hastily down 
 the stairs before any of the men could frame his pro 
 test into words. 
 
 "Are you ready, sir?" asked the messenger. 
 
 "It is close on half-past twelve/ I answered. 
 "Where is she?" 
 
 "It s not far," said my guide evasively. 
 
 I understood the danger of speech, and did not 
 press for an answer. 
 
 We plunged down Montgomery Street in the 
 teeth of the wind that dashed the spray in our faces 
 at one moment, lulled an instant the better to de 
 ceive the unwary, and then leaped at us from behind 
 corners with the impetuous rush of some great ani 
 mal that turned to vapor as it reached us. The street 
 was dark except for the newspaper offices, which 
 glowed bright with lights on both sides of the way, 
 J^usy with the only signs of life that the storm and 
 the midnight hour had left. 
 
 With the lighted buildings behind us we turned 
 down California Street. Half-way down the block, 
 in front of the Merchants Exchange, stood a hack. 
 At the sight my heart beat fast and my breath came 
 quick. Here, perhaps, was the person about whom 
 centered so many of my hopes and fears, in whose 
 service I had faced death, and whose words might 
 serve to make plain the secret springs of the mys 
 tery. 
 
THE CHASE IN THE STORM 347 
 
 As we neared the hack my guide gave a short, 
 suppressed whistle, and passing before me, flung 
 open the door to the vehicle and motioned me to 
 enter. I glanced about with some lack of confidence 
 oppressing my spirits. But I had gone too far to re 
 treat, and stepped into the hack. Instead of follow 
 ing, the guide closed the door gently; I heard him 
 mount the seat by the driver, and in a moment we 
 were in motion. 
 
 Was I alone? I had expected to find the Un 
 known, but the dark interior gave no sign of a com 
 panion. Then the magnetic suggestion of the pres 
 ence of another came to my spirit, and a faint per 
 fume put all my senses on the alert. It was the scent 
 that had come to me with the letters of the Un 
 known. A slight movement made me certain that 
 some one sat in the farther corner of the carriage. 
 
 Was it the Unknown or some agent? And if it 
 proved to be the Unknown, was she the lady I had 
 met in cold business greeting in the courtyard of the 
 Palace Hotel? I waited impatiently for the first 
 street-lamp to throw a gleam of light into the car 
 riage. But when it came I was little the wiser. If 
 could see faintly the outlines of a figure shrouded in, 
 black that leaned in the corner, motionless save for 
 the swaying and pitching of the hack as it rolled 
 swiftly down the street. 
 
 The situation became a little embarrassing. Was 
 it my place to speak first? I wondered. At last I 
 could endure the silence no longer. 
 
348 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "Quite an unpleasant evening," I remarked po 
 litely. 
 
 There was a rustle of movement, the sound of a 
 short gasp, and a soft, mournful voice broke on 
 my ear. 
 i "Mr. Dudley can you forgive me?" 
 
 The astonishment I felt to hear my own name 
 once more the name that seemed now to belong to 
 a former state of existence was swallowed up as 
 the magnetic tones carried their revelation to my 
 mind. 
 
 I was stricken dumb for a moment at the dis 
 covery they had brought. Then I gasped : 
 
 "Mrs. Knapp!" 
 
 "Yes, Mrs. Knapp," she said with a mournful 
 laugh. "Did you never suspect?" 
 
 I was lost in wonder and confusion, and even yet 
 could not understand. 
 
 "What brings you out in this storm?" I asked, 
 completely mystified. "I thought I was to meet an 
 other person." 
 
 "Indeed?" said Mrs. Knapp with a spark of ani 
 mation. "Well, I am the other person." 
 
 I was paralyzed in mind and nerve for a moment 
 with the astonishment of the disclosure. Even yet 
 I could not believe. 
 
 "You!" I exclaimed at last. "Are you the pro 
 tector of the boy? The employer " Then I 
 stopped, the tangle in my mind beginning to 
 straighten out. 
 
THE CHASE IN THE STORM 349 
 
 "I am she," said Mrs. Knapp gently. 
 
 "Then," I cried, "who is he? what is he? what is 
 the whole dreadful affair about? and what " 
 
 Mrs. Knapp interrupted me. 
 
 "First tell me what has become of Henry Wil 
 ton ?" she said with sorrow in her voice. 
 
 The dreadful scene in the alley flashed before my 
 mind. 
 
 "He is dead." 
 
 "Dead! And how?" 
 
 "Murdered." 
 
 "I feared so I was certain, or he would have let 
 me know. You have much to tell me. But first, did 
 he leave no papers in your hands ?" 
 
 I brought out the slip that bore the blind dia 
 gram and the blinder description that accompanied 
 it. Nothing could be made of it in the darkness, so 
 I described it as well as I could. 
 
 "We are on the right track," said Mrs. Knapp. 
 "Oh, why didn t I have that yesterday? But here 
 we are at the wharf." 
 
 The hack had stopped, and a hand was fumbling 
 at the door. 
 
 The darkness, the dash of water, the wind whis 
 tling about the crazy wooden buildings and through 
 the rigging of ships, made the water-front vocal 
 with the shouting of the storm demons as we 
 alighted. 
 
 My guide was before us, and we followed him 
 down the pier, struggling against the gusts. 
 
350 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "Do we cross the bay?" I asked, as Mrs. Knapp 
 clung to my arm. "It s not safe for yon in a small 
 boat." 
 
 "There s a tug waiting for us," Mrs. Knapp ex 
 plained. 
 
 A moment later we saw its lights, and the fire of 
 its engine-room shot a cheerful glow into the storm. 
 The little vessel swung uneasily at its berth as we 
 made our way aboard, and with shouts of men and 
 clang of bells it was soon tossing on the dark waters 
 of the bay. Out from the shelter of the wharves the 
 wind buffeted us wildly, and the black waves were 
 threshed into phosphorescent foam against the sides 
 of the tug, while their crests, self-luminous, 
 stretched away in changing lines of faint, ghostly 
 fire. 
 
 The cabin of the tug was fitted with a shelf table, 
 and over it swung a lamp of brass that gave a dim 
 light to the little room. Mrs. Knapp seated herself 
 here, as the boat pitched and tossed and trembled at 
 the strokes of the waves and quivered to the throb 
 bing of the screw, spread out the paper I had given 
 her, and studied the diagram and the jumble of let 
 ters with anxious attention. 
 
 "It is the same," she said at last; "in part, at 
 least." 
 
 "The same as what?" I asked. 
 
 "As the one I got word of to-night, you know," 
 she replied. 
 
 "No I didn t know." 
 
THE CHASE IN THE STORM 351 
 
 "Of course not," said Mrs. Knapp. "But you 
 might have guessed that I got my summons after 
 you left, this evening. I should have spoken to you 
 then if I had known. I was near coming to an ex 
 planation, as it was." 
 
 "There are a good many things I haven t 
 guessed," I confessed. 
 
 "But," she continued, returning to the map, "this 
 gives a different place. I was to go to the cross-road 
 here," indicating the mark at the last branch. 
 
 "I m glad to hear that," said I, taking out the dia 
 gram I had found in the citadel of the enemy. "This 
 seems to point to a different place, too, and I really 
 hope that the gentleman who drew this map is a 
 good w r ay off from the truth." 
 
 "Where did you get this?" exclaimed Mrs. 
 Knapp. 
 
 I described the circumstances in as few words as I 
 could command. 
 
 "They are ahead of us," she said in alarm. 
 
 "They have started first, I suppose," was my sug 
 gestion. 
 
 "And they have the right road." 
 
 "Then our only hope is that they may not know 
 the right place." 
 
 "God grant it," said Mrs. Knapp. 
 
 She was silent for a few minutes, and I saw that 
 her eyes were filled with tears. 
 
 I was moved by her signs of feeling. I thought 
 they were for the boy and was about to ask what 
 
352 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 would happen to him in case he was found by the 
 enemy, when she said : 
 
 "Now tell me about Henry Wilton how he died 
 and when." 
 
 Again the vision of my first dreadful night in 
 San Francisco rose before me, the cries for help 
 from my murdered friend rang in my ears, and the 
 scene in the alley and the figure in the morgue 
 hurned before my eyes. 
 
 I told the tale as it had happened, and as I told 
 it I read in the face before me the varying emotions 
 of alarm, horror and grief that were stirred by its 
 Incidents. 
 
 But one tiling I could not tell her. The wolf-face 
 I had seen in the lantern flash in the alley I could not 
 name nor describe to the wife of Doddridge Knapp. 
 Yet at the thought the dark mystery grew darker 
 yet, and I began to doubt what my eyes had seen 
 and my ears had heard. 
 
 Mrs. Knapp bowed her head in deep, gloomy 
 thought. 
 
 "I feared it, yet he would not listen to my warn 
 ings," she murmured. "He would work his own 
 way." Then she looked me suddenly straight in the 
 face. 
 
 "And why did you take his place, his name? Why 
 did you try to do his work when you had seen the 
 dreadful end to which it had brought him ?" 
 
 I confessed that it was half through the insistence 
 of Detective Coogan that I was Henry Wilton, 
 
THE CHASE IN THE STORM 353 
 
 half through the course of events that seemed to 
 make it the easiest road to reach the vengeance that 
 I had vowed to bring the murderer of my friend. 
 
 "You are bent on avenging him?" asked Mrs. 
 Knapp thoughtfully. 
 
 "I have promised it." 
 
 "You shall have the chance. Strange thought!" 
 she said gloomily, "that the dead hand of Henry 
 Wilton may reach out from beyond the grave and 
 strike at his slayer when he least expects it." 
 
 I was more than ever mystified at these words. I 
 had not expected her to take so philosophically to 
 the idea of hanging Doddridge Knapp, and I 
 thought it best to hold my tongue. 
 
 "I have marveled at you," said Mrs. Knapp after 
 a pause. "I marvel at you yet. You have carried off 
 your part well." 
 
 "Not well enough, it seems, to deceive you," I 
 said, a little bitterly. 
 
 "You should not have expected to deceive me," 
 said Mrs. Knapp. "But you can imagine the shock 
 I had when I saw that it was not Henry Wilton who 
 had come among us that first night when I called 
 you from Mr. Knapp s room." 
 
 "You certainly succeeded in concealing any sur 
 prise you may have felt," I said. "You are a better 
 actor than I." 
 
 Mrs. Knapp smiled. 
 
 "It was more than surprise it was consterna 
 tion," she said, "I had been anxious at receiving no 
 
354 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 word from Henry. I suppose you got my notes. 
 And when I saw you I was torn with doubts, won 
 dering whether anything had happened to Henry, 
 whether he had sent you in his stead as a practical 
 joke, whether you knew much or little or nothing of 
 our affairs in short, I was overwhelmed." 
 
 "I didn t suppose I was quite so poor an im 
 postor/ I said apologetically, with a qualm at the 
 word. "Though I did get some hint of it," I added, 
 with a painful recollection of the candid statement 
 of opinion I had received from the daughter of the 
 house. 
 
 "Oh, you did very well," said Mrs. Knapp kindly, 
 "but no one could have been successful in that house. 
 Luella was quite outraged over it, but I managed to 
 quiet her." 
 
 "I hope Miss Knapp has not retained the unfavor 
 able impressions of er " I stammered in much 
 confusion. 
 
 Mrs. Knapp gave me a keen glance. 
 
 "You know she has not," she said. 
 
 I felt the subconscious impression somehow that 
 after all Mrs. Knapp would have been better pleased 
 if Luella had kept nearer to her first impressions 
 of me. 
 
 "Well," continued Mrs. Knapp, "when I saw you 
 and guessed that something had happened to Henry 
 Wilton, and found that you knew little of what was 
 going on, I changed the plan of campaign. I did not 
 know that you were one to be trusted, but I saw 
 
THE CHASE IN THE STORM 355 
 
 that you could be used to keep the others on a false 
 scent, for you deceived everybody but us." 
 
 "There was one other," I said. 
 
 "Mother Borton?" inquired Mrs. Knapp. "Yes, 
 I learned that she knew you. But to every one else 
 in the city you were Henry Wilton. I feared, though, 
 you would make some mistake that would betray you 
 and spoil my plans. But you have succeeded marvel- 
 ously." 
 
 Mrs. Knapp paused a moment and then continued 
 slowly. "It was cruel of me. I knew that it was 
 sending you to face death. But I was alarmed, 
 angry at the imposition, and felt that you had 
 brought it on yourself. Can you forgive me?" 
 
 "I have nothing to forgive," I said. 
 
 "I would have spoken when I found you for what 
 you are," said Mrs. Knapp, "but I thought until the 
 Livermore trip that you could serve me best as you 
 were doing," 
 
 "It was blind work," I said. 
 
 "It was blind enough for you, not for me. I was 
 deceived in one thing, however ; I thought that you 
 had no papers nothing from Henry that could help 
 or hurt. The first night you came to us I had Hen 
 ry s room thoroughly searched." 
 
 "Oh, I was indebted to you for that attention," I 
 exclaimed. "I gave our friends of the other house 
 the credit." 
 
 Mrs. Knapp smiled again. 
 
 "I thought it necessary. It was the chance 
 
556 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 you did not sleep there that night that kept this pa* 
 per out of my hands weeks ago." 
 
 "I have always kept it with me," I said. 
 
 "I did not need it till Sunday," continued Mrs. 
 Knapp. "I have been worried much at the situa 
 tion of the boy, but I did not dare go near him. 
 Henry and I decided that his hiding-place was not 
 safe. We had talked of moving him a few days be 
 fore you came. When I found that Henry had dis 
 appeared I was anxious to make the change, but I 
 could not venture to attempt it until the others were 
 out of town, for I knew I was watched. Then I was 
 assured from Mother Borton that they did not know 
 where the boy was hidden, and I let the matter rest. 
 But a few days ago on Saturday she sent me 
 word that she thought they had found the place. 
 Then it came to me to send you to Livermore with 
 the other boy oh, I hope no harm came to the little 
 fellow," she exclaimed anxiously. 
 
 "He s safe at my rooms in charge of Wain- 
 wright," I said. "He got back on the morning train, 
 and can be had for the asking." 
 
 "Oh, I m so glad," said Mrs. Knapp. "I was 
 afraid something would happen to him, but I had 
 to take desperate chances. Well, you see my plan 
 succeeded. They all followed you. But when I 
 went to the hiding-place the boy was gone. Henry 
 had moved him weeks ago, and had died before he 
 could tell me. Then I thought you might know 
 more than you had told me that Henry Wilton 
 
THE CHASE IN THE STORM 357 
 
 might have got you to help him when he made the 
 change, and I wrote to you/ 
 
 "And the key," I said, remembering the expres 
 sion of the note. "Did you mean this diagram? * 
 
 "No," said Mrs. Knapp. "I meant the key to our 
 cipher code. I was looking over Henry s letters for 
 some hint of a hiding-place and could not find the 
 key to the cipher. I thought you might have been 
 given one. I found mine this afternoon, though, 
 and there was no need of it, so it didn t matter 
 after all." 
 
 The pitching and tossing of the boat had ceased 
 for some minutes, and at this point the captain of 
 the tug opened the cabin. 
 
 "Excuse me," he said apologetically, uncertain 
 whether to address Mrs. Knapp or me, and includ 
 ing us both in the question, "but where did you 
 want to land?" 
 
 "At Broadway," said Mrs. Knapp. 
 
 "Then you re there," said the captain. 
 
 And, a minute later, with clang of bells and groan 
 of engine we were at the wharf and were helped 
 ashore. 
 
 On this side of the bay the wind had fallen, and 
 there were signs of a break in the clouds. The dark 
 ness of the hour was dimly broken by the rays from 
 the lines of street-lamps that stretched at intervals 
 on both sides of Broadway, making the gloom of the 
 place and hour even more oppressive. 
 
 "Tell the captain to wait here for us with fires 
 
358 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 up," said Mrs. Knapp. "The carriage should be 
 somewhere around here," she continued, peering 
 anxiously about as we reached the foot of the 
 wharf. 
 
 The low buildings by the railroad track were but 
 piles of blackness, and about them I could see noth 
 ing. 
 
 "This way," said a familiar voice, and a man 
 stepped from the shadow. 
 
 "Dicky Nahl!" I exclaimed. 
 
 "Mr. Wilton!" mimicked Dicky. "But it s just 
 as well not to speak so loud. Here you are. I put 
 the hack s lights out just to escape unpleasant re 
 mark. We had better be moving, for it s a stiffish 
 drive of six or seven miles. If you ll get in, I ll 
 keep the seat with the driver and tell him the way 
 to go." 
 
 Mrs. Knapp entered the carriage, and called to me 
 to follow her. 
 
 I remembered Mother Borton s warnings and my 
 doubts of Dicky Nahl. 
 
 "You re certain you know where you are going ?" 
 I asked him in an undertone. 
 
 j "No, I m not," said Dicky frankly. "I ve found a 
 man who says he knows. We are to meet him. 
 We ll get there between three and four o clock. He 
 won t say another word to anybody but her or you. 
 I guess he knows what he is about." 
 
 "Well, keep your eyes open. Meeker s gang is 
 ahead of us. Is the driver reliable?" 
 
THE CHASE IN THE STORM 359 
 
 "Right as a judge/ 5 said Dicky cheerfully. "Now, 
 if you ll get in with madam we won t be wasting 
 time here." 
 
 I stepped into the carriage. Dicky Nahl closed the 
 door softly and climbed on the seat by the driver, 
 and in a moment we were rolling up Broadway in 
 the gloomy stillness of the early morning hour. 
 
CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 THE HEART OF THE MYSTERY 
 
 In the tumult of conflicting thoughts that as 
 sailed me as we entered on the last stage of our 
 journey, the idea of the perils that might lie ahead 
 fixed my attention for the moment, and I began to 
 feel alarm for the safety of my companion. 
 
 "Mrs. Knapp," I said ; "there is no need for you to 
 take this journey. You had better stop in Oakland 
 for the rest of the night." 
 
 "I must go," she replied. 
 
 "There is danger," I argued. "You should not ex 
 pose yourself to the chances of a brush with the 
 enemy. It is a wet, cold ride, and there may be 
 bullets flying at the end of it." 
 
 Mrs. Knapp gave a shudder, but she spoke firmly. 
 
 "I could not rest I could not stay away. It may 
 be important that I should be there it will be im 
 portant if we find the boy. You do not know him. 
 Mr. Nahl does not know him." 
 
 "None of my men seems to know him," I inter 
 rupted; "that is, if one may judge by the way they 
 were all taken in on the boy you sent to Liver- 
 
 rnore." 
 
 360 
 
THE HEARTOFTHE MYSTERY 361 
 
 "I think none of them ever saw his face, though 
 some of them were with Henry Wilton when he 
 first took the boy, and afterward/ 
 
 The enemy seem to know him," said I, remem-^ 
 bering the scene at Livermore. 
 
 Terr ill knows him. I think none of the other 
 agents could be certain of his face, unless it is Mr. 
 Meeker. But truly, I must go." 
 
 "You are very brave," I said, admiring her spirit, 
 though I was loath to have the responsibility of her 
 safety on my hands. 
 
 "Without you I should not dare to go, I fear," 
 she made answer. "I need a strong arm to lean on, 
 you see." 
 
 "You may wish later that you had chosen a 
 cavalier with two strong arms to his equipment. I 
 fear I shouldn t do so well in a hand-to-hand en 
 counter as I should have done before I met Mr. 
 Terrill last night." 
 
 "Oh, I hope it will not come to that," said Mrs. 
 Knapp cheerfully, though there was a little tremor 
 in her voice. 
 
 "What if they have seized the boy?" 
 
 Mrs. Knapp was silent for a little, as if this con 
 tingency had not entered her plans. 
 
 "We must follow him and save him, even if we 
 have to raise the whole county to do it." Her voice 
 was firm and resolute. 
 
 "What would happen to the boy if he were 
 taken?" I found courage to ask. 
 
362 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "He would not live a month," she replied. 
 
 "Would he be murdered?" 
 
 "I don t know how the end would come. Bui I 
 know he would die." 
 
 I was in the shadow of the mystery. A hundred 
 questions rose to my lips; but behind them all 
 frowned the grim wolf- visage of Doddridge Knapp, 
 and I could not find the courage that could make 
 me speak to them. 
 
 "Mrs. Knapp," I said, "you have called me by my 
 name. I had almost forgotten that I had ever be rue 
 it. I have lived more in the last month than in the 
 twenty-five years that I remember before it, and I 
 have almost come to think that the old name be 
 longs to some one else. May I ask how you got 
 hold of it?" 
 
 "It was simple enough. Henry had told me about 
 you. I remembered that you were coming from the 
 same town he had come from. I telegraphed to an 
 agent in Boston. He went up to your place, made 
 his inquiries and telegraphed me. I suppose you 
 [will be pleased to know," she continued with a droll 
 affectation of malice in her voice, "that he mailed 
 me your full history as gathered from the town 
 pump. It is at the house now." 
 
 "I trust it is nothing so very disreputable," I 
 said modestly, raking my memory hastily for any 
 likely account of youthful escapades. 
 
 "There was one rather serious bit," said Mrs. 
 Knapp gravely. "There was an orchard " 
 
THEHEARTOFTHE MYSTERY 363 
 
 "There was more than one," I admitted. 
 
 Mrs. Knapp broke into a laugh. 
 
 "I might have expected it. I knew the account 
 was too good to be true. You ll have to get Luella s 
 permission if you want to read the charges in full, 
 though. She has taken possession of the document.", 
 
 Luella knew! At first I was disappointed, then^ 
 relieved. Something of the promised explanation 
 was taken off my mind. 
 
 "I tried to get something out of Mother Borton 
 concerning you," continued Mrs. Knapp. "I even 
 went so far as to see her once." 
 
 "I don t think you got any more out of her than 
 she wanted to tell." 
 
 "Indeed I did not. I was afraid Mr. Richmond 
 had not gone about it the right way. You know Mr. 
 Richmond acted as my agent with her?" 
 
 "No, I didn t know. She was as close-mouthed 
 with me as with you, I think." 
 
 "Well, I saw her. I wanted to get what informa 
 tion she had of you and of Henry." 
 
 "She had a good deal of it, if she wanted to give 
 it up." 
 
 "So I supposed. But she was too clever for me. 
 She spoke well of you, but not a word could I get 
 from her about Henry. Yet she gave me the idea 
 that she knew much." 
 
 "I should think she might. I had told her the 
 whole story." 
 
 "She is a strange woman." 
 
364 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "She \\as able to hold her tongue." 
 
 "A strange gift, you mean to say, I suppose/ 
 laughed Mrs. Knapp. 
 
 "She was quite as successful in concealing from 
 me the fact that she had ever had word with you, 
 though I suspected that she knew more than she 
 jtold." 
 
 "She is used to keeping secrets, I suppose," re 
 plied Mrs. Knapp. "But I must reward her well for 
 what she has done." 
 
 "She is beyond fear or reward." 
 
 "Dead?" cried Mrs. Knapp in a shocked voice. 
 "And how?" 
 
 "She died, I fear, because she befriended me." 
 And then I told her the story of Mother Borton s 
 end. 
 
 "Poor creature!" said Mrs. Knapp sadly. "Yet 
 perhaps it is better so. She has died in doing a 
 good act." 
 
 "She was a good friend to me," I said. "I should 
 have been in the morgue before her, I fear, but for 
 her good will." 
 
 Mrs. Knapp was silent for a minute. 
 
 "I hope we are at the end of the tale of death," 
 she said at last. "It is dreadful that insane greed 
 and malice should spread their evil so far about. 
 Two lives have been sacrificed already, and per 
 haps it is only the beginning. Yet I believe I am 
 s-ure- I have done right." 
 
 "I am sure of that," I said, and then was silent 
 
THE HEART OF THE MYSTERY 365 
 
 as her words called up the image of the Wolf, dark, 
 forbidding, glowing with the fires of hate the Wolf 
 of the lantern-flash in the alley and the dens of 
 Chinatown and the mystery seemed deeper than 
 ever. 
 
 The carriage had been rolling along swiftly. 
 Despite the rain the streets were smooth and hard, 
 and we made rapid progress. We had crossed a 
 bridge, and with many turns made a course toward 
 the southeast. Now the ground became softer, and 
 progress was slow. An interminable array of trees 
 lined the way on both sides, and to my impatient im 
 agination stretched for miles before us. Then the 
 road became better, and the horses trotted briskly 
 forward again, their hoofs pattering dully on the 
 softened ground. 
 
 "All the better," I thought. "It s as good as a 
 muffler if any one is listening for us." 
 
 "Here s the place," came the voice of Dicky, giv 
 ing directions to the driver; and the carriage slack 
 ened pace and stopped. Looking out I saw that we 
 were at a division of the road where a two-story 
 house faced both of the branching ways. 
 
 "You d better come out," said Dicky at the door, 
 addressing his remark to me. "He was to meet us 
 here." 
 
 "Be careful," cautioned Mrs. Knapp. 
 
 The night had turned colder, or I was chilled by 
 the inaction of the ride. The sky was clearing, and 
 stars were to be seen. By the outline of the hills 
 
366 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 we had made to the south. The horses steamed and 
 breathed heavily in the keen air. 
 
 I kept my hand on the revolver that lay in my 
 overcoat pocket, and walked with Dicky on to the 
 porch. It was a common roadside saloon, and at 
 this hour it appeared wholly deserted. Even the 
 dog, without which I knew no roadside saloon 
 could exist, was as silent as its owners. 
 
 "Here s a go !" said Dicky. "He was to meet us, 
 sure. What time have you got ?" 
 
 I struck a match in a corner and looked at my 
 watch by its flare. 
 
 "Five minutes to three." 
 
 "Whew!" he whispered, "we re regularly done. 
 I thought he had a bad eye when I was bargaining 
 with him/ 
 
 I wondered if Dicky had a hand in the trick, if 
 trick it should prove to be. 
 
 "He may be up stairs," I suggested. 
 
 Dicky groaned. "It s like advertising with a band 
 wagon to rout em out at this time of the night," 
 he whispered. 
 
 "The enemy have been along here ahead of us," 
 I said. "They may have picked him up." 
 
 "That s like enough," said Dicky ruefully. "But 
 if they ve got him, we might as well take the back 
 tracks for town and hunt up a sheriff or two, or send 
 for the boys to come over." 
 
 "It s too late to do that," said I decidedly. "We 
 must go on at once." 
 
THEHE A RTOFTHE MYSTERY 367 
 
 "Well," said Dicky dubiously, "I think I know 
 where the fellow would have taken us. I trailed him 
 this afternoon, and I ll lay two to one that I can 
 pick out the right road." 
 
 "Is this the third road from Brooklyn?" I asked 
 pointing to the track that led to the left. 
 
 "I reckon so," said Dicky "I haven t kept count, 
 but I recollect only two before it." 
 
 "All right. Up with you then !" 
 
 Dicky obediently mounted to the seat beside the 
 driver. 
 
 "I shall ride outside," I said to Mrs. Knapp. "I 
 may be needed." 
 
 "I suppose you are right," she replied with some 
 what of protest in her voice, and I closed the door, 
 and climbed up. It was close quarters for three, 
 but at the word the horses, refreshed by the brief 
 rest, rolled the carriage up the road that led to the 
 hills. 
 
 Half a mile farther we passed a house, and within 
 a quarter of a mile another. 
 
 "We are on the right road," was my thought as 
 I compared these in my mind with the crosses on 
 the diagram. 
 
 About half a mile farther, a small cluster of build 
 ings loomed up, dark and obscure, by the roadside. 
 
 "This is the place," I said confidently, motioning 
 the driver to pull up. I remembered that Henry 
 Wilton s map had stopped at the third cross from 
 the parting of the roads. 
 
36$ BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "No, it isn t," said Dicky eagerly. "It s two or 
 three miles farther on. I trailed the fellow myself to 
 the next house, and that s a good two miles at least." 
 
 I had leaped to the ground, and opened the door 
 of the carriage. 
 
 "We are at the fourth place," I said. 
 
 "And the cockeyed barn?" inquired Mrs. Knapp, 
 peering out. 
 
 I was struck silent by this, and looked blankly at 
 the dark forbidding structure that fronted on the 
 road. 
 
 "You re right," said Mrs. Knapp with a laugh. 
 "Can t you make out that funny little window at the 
 end there?" 
 
 I looked more closely at the building, In the dim 
 light of the stars, the coat of whitewash that covered 
 it made it possible to trace the outlines of a window 
 in the gable that fronted the road. Some freak of the 
 builder had turned it a quarter of the way around, 
 giving it a comical suggestion of a man with a droop 
 to his eye. 
 
 "And the iron cow?" I asked. 
 
 "Stupid ! a pump, of course/ replied Mrs. Knapp 
 with another laugh. "Now see if there is a lane here 
 by the barn." 
 
 A narrow roadway, just wide enough for a single 
 wagon, joined the main road at the corner of the 
 building. 
 
 "Then drive up it quietly," was Mrs. Knapp s di 
 rection. 
 
THEHEARTOFTHE MYSTERY 369 
 
 Just beyond the barn I made out the figure of 
 the pump in a conspicuous place by the roadside, 
 and felt more confident that we were on the right 
 road. 
 
 The lane was now wrapped in Egyptian dark 
 ness. Trees lined both sides of the narrow way. 
 Their branches brushed our faces as we passed, and 
 their tops seemed to meet above us till even the faint 
 light of the stars scarcely glimmered through. The 
 hoofs of the horses splashed in the mud, and the 
 rather clumsy carriage dragged heavily and slowly 
 forward. 
 
 "I d give five dollars to light my lamps," growled 
 the driver. We were traveling by the instinct of the 
 horses. 
 
 "If your life is worth more than five dollars, you d 
 better keep them dark," I said. 
 
 The driver swore in an undertone as the hack 
 lurched and groaned in a boggy series of ruts, and a 
 branch whipped him in the face. I was forced to 
 give a grunt myself, as another slapped my sore arm 
 and sent a sharp twinge of pain shooting from the 
 wound till it tingled in my toes. Dicky, protected 
 between us, chuckled softly. I reflected savagely 
 that nothing spoils a man for company like a mis 
 taken sense of humor. 
 
 Suddenly the horses stopped so short that we were 
 almost pitched out. 
 
 "Hello! what s this?" I cried, drawing my re 
 volver, fearful of an ambush. 
 
370 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "It s a fence," said the driver. 
 
 "There must be a gate," I said, jumping down 
 quickly. 
 
 Mrs. Knapp rapped on the carriage door and I 
 opened it. 
 
 "Have you come to the bars?" she asked pres 
 ently.. 
 
 "I guess so. We ve come against something like 
 a fence." 
 
 "Well, then," she replied, ^"when we get through, 
 take the road to the left. That will bring us to the 
 house." 
 
 "You are certain?" 
 
 "That is what Henry wrote in the cipher beneath 
 the map. The house must be only a few hundred 
 yards away." 
 
 The bars were there, and I lifted the wet and 
 soggy boards with an anxious heart. Were we, 
 after all, so near the hiding-place? And what were 
 we to find? 
 
 I mounted the seat again, and we drove forward. 
 The road was scarcely distinguishable, but the horses 
 followed it without hesitation as it led behind a tall 
 \edge and among scattered oaks. 
 
 My heart beat fast. What if the enemy were 
 before us ? 
 
 "Have you got your revolver handy?" I whis 
 pered to Dicky. 
 
 "Two of em," he chuckled. "There s a double 
 dose for the man that wants it." 
 
THE HEART OF THE MYSTERY 371 
 
 On a sudden turn the house loomed up before us, 
 and a wild clamor of dogs broke the stillness of the 
 night. 
 
 "I hope they are tied," I said, with a poor attempt 
 to conceal my misgivings. 
 
 "We ll have a lively time in a quarter of a min 
 ute if they aren t, 7 laughed Dicky, as he followed 
 me. 
 
 But the baying and barking came no nearer, and 
 I helped Mrs. Knapp out of the carriage. She 
 looked at the house closely. 
 
 "This is the place," she said, in an unmistakable 
 tone of decision. "We must be quick. I wish some 
 thing would quiet those dogs; they will bring the 
 whole country out." 
 
 It seemed an hour before we could raise any one, 
 but it may not have been three minutes before a 
 voice came from behind the door. 
 
 "Who s there?" 
 
 "It is L. M. K.," said Mrs. Knapp; then she 
 added three words of gibberish that I took to be 
 the passwords used to identify the friends of the 
 boy. 
 
 At the words there was the sound of bolts shoot 
 ing back, and the heavy door opened enough to 
 admit us. As we passed in, it was closed once more 
 and the bolts shot home. 
 
 Before us stood a short, heavy-set man, holding 
 a candle. His face, which was stamped with much 
 of the bulldog look in it, was smooth-shaven ex- 
 
372 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 cept for a bristling brown mustache. He looked 
 inquiringly at us. 
 
 "Is he here the boy?" cried Mrs. Knapp, her 
 voice choked with anxiety. 
 
 "Yes," said the man. "Do we move again?" 
 He seemed to feel no surprise at the situation, and 
 I inferred that it was not the first time he had 
 changed quarters on a sudden at the darkest hour 
 of the night. 
 
 "At once," said Mrs. Knapp, in her tone of de 
 cision. 
 
 "It will take ten minutes to get ready," said the 
 man. "Come this way." 
 
 I was left standing alone by the door in the dark 
 ness, with a burden lifted from my mind. We had 
 come in time. The single slip of paper left by Henry 
 Wilton had been the means, through a strange com 
 bination of events, to point the way to the un 
 known hiding-place of the boy. He was still safe, 
 and the enemy were on a false trail. I should not 
 have to reproach myself with the sacrifice of the 
 child. 
 
 Yet my mind was far from easy. The enemy 
 might have been misled, but if they had followed the 
 road marked out in the diagram I had brought 
 from their den, they were too close for comfort. 
 I listened for any sound from the outside. The 
 dogs had quieted down. Twice I thought I heard 
 hoof-beats, and there was a chorus of barks from the 
 rear of the house. But it was only the horses that 
 
"No I can carry him I want to carry him" 
 
 See page 373 
 
THEHEARTOFTHE MYSTERY 373 
 
 had brought us hither, stamping impatiently as 
 they waited. 
 
 In a few minutes the wavering light of the candle 
 reappeared. Mrs, Knapp \vas carrying a bundle 
 that I took to be the boy, and the man brought a 
 valise and a blanket. 
 
 "It s all right," said Mrs. Knapp. "No I can 
 carry him I want to carry him." 
 
 The man opened the door, then closed and locked 
 it as I helped Mrs. Knapp into the carriage. 
 
 "Have you got him safe?" asked Dicky incred 
 ulously. "Well, I ll have to say that you know 
 more than I thought you did." And the relief and 
 satisfaction in his tone were so evident that I glad 
 ly repented of my suspicions of the light-hearted 
 Dicky. 
 
 "Have you heard anything?" I asked him anx 
 iously. 
 
 "I thought I heard a yell over here through the 
 woods. We had better get out of here." 
 
 "Don t wait a second," said the man. "The south 
 road comes over this other way. If you ve heard 
 anybody there, they will be here in five minutes. 
 I ll follow you on a horse." 
 
 With an injunction to haste, I stepped after Mrs. 
 Knapp into the carriage, the door was shut, Dicky 
 mounted the seat, and we rolled down the road on 
 the return journey. 
 
 "Oh, how thankful I am!" cried Mrs. Knapp. 
 "There is a weight of anxiety off my mind. Can 
 
374 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 you imagine what I have been fearing in the last 
 month ?" 
 
 "I had thought a little about that myself," I con 
 fessed. "But we are not yet out of the woods, I 
 am afraid." 
 
 "Hark! what s that?" said Mrs. Knapp apprehen 
 sively. 
 
 The carriage was now making its way through the 
 bad stretch in the lane, and there was little noise 
 in its progress. 
 
 "I heard nothing," I said, putting down the win 
 dow to listen. "What was it?" 
 
 "I thought it was a shout." 
 
 There was no noise but the steady splash of 
 horses hoofs in the mud, and the sloppy, shearing 
 sound of the wheels as they cut through the wet 
 soil. 
 
 As we bumped and groaned again through the 
 ruts, however, there arose in the distance behind us 
 the fierce barking of dogs, their voices raised in an 
 ger and alarm. 
 
 There was a faint halloo, and a wilder barking 
 followed. Then my ear caught the splashing of 
 galloping hoofs behind, and in a moment the man 
 of the house rode beside us. 
 
 "They ve come," he said, "or, anyhow, some 
 body s come. I let the dogs loose, and they will 
 have a lively time for a while." 
 
 At his words there was another chorus of barks 
 and shouts. Then a shot rang out, and a fusillade 
 
THE HEART OF THE MYSTERY 375 
 
 followed with a mournful Avail that died away into 
 silence. 
 
 "Good Lord! they ve shot the dogs," cried the 
 man hotly. I ve a mind to go back and pepper 
 some of em." 
 
 "No," said Mrs. Knapp, "we may need you. Let 
 us hurry !" 
 
 A few yards more brought us to the main road, 
 and once on the firm ground the horses trotted 
 briskly forward, while the horseman dropped be 
 hind, the better to observe and give the alarm. 
 
 "We were just in time," said Mrs. Knapp, trem 
 bling. 
 
 "Let us be thankful for so much," said I cheer 
 fully. 
 
 "They will follow us," said Mrs. Knapp, with 
 conviction in her tone. 
 
 "Not before they have broken into the house. 
 That will keep them for some time, I think." 
 
 "Is there no sign of pursuit?" 
 
 I leaned out of the window. Only the deadened 
 sound of the hoofs of our own horses, the deadened 
 roll of our own carriage wheels, were audible in the 
 stillness of the night. Then I thought I heard yells 
 and faint hoof-beats in the distance, but again there 
 was silence except for the muffled noise we made in 
 pur progress. 
 
 "Can t we drive faster?" asked Mrs. Knapp, 
 when I made my report. 
 
 "I wouldn t spoil these horses for five hundred 
 
376 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 dollars/ growled the driver when I passed him the 
 injunction to hasten. 
 
 "It s a thousand dollars for you if you get to the 
 wharf ahead of the others," cried Mrs. Knapp. 
 
 "And you ll have a bullet in your hide if you 
 don t keep out of gunshot of them," I added. 
 
 The double inducement to haste had its effect, 
 and we could feel the swifter motion of the vehicle 
 under us, and see the more rapid passage of the 
 trees and fences that lined the way. 
 
 The wild ride appeared to last for ages. The 
 fast trot of the horses was a funeral pace to the 
 flight of my excited and anxious imagination. 
 What if we should be overtaken? The hack would 
 offer no protection from bullets, and Mrs. Knapp 
 and the boy could scarcely escape injury if it came to 
 a close encounter. But whenever I looked back 
 there was only the single horseman galloping be 
 hind us, and the only sound to be heard was that of 
 our own progress. 
 
 At last the houses began to pass more frequently. 
 Now the road was broken by cross streets. Gas- 
 lamps appeared, flickering faint and yellow in the 
 morning air, as though the long night vigil had 
 robbed them of their vitality. We were once more 
 within city limits, and I felt a loosening of the tense 
 nerves of anxiety. The panting horses never slack 
 ened pace. We swept over a long bridge, and 
 plunged down a shaded street, and the figure of the 
 Jiorseman was the only sign of life behind us, 
 
THE HEART OF THE MYSTERY 377 
 
 Of a sudden there sounded a long roll, as of a 
 great drum beating the reveille for an army of 
 giants. The horseman quickened his pace and gal 
 loped furiously beside us. 
 
 "They re crossing the bridge," he shouted. 
 
 "Whip up!" I cried to the driver. They are 
 only four blocks behind us." 
 
 "Are they in sight ?" asked Mrs. Knapp. 
 
 "I can not see them," I replied, "and it may not 
 be the ones we fear. It is near daybreak, and we 
 are not the only ones astir." 
 
 I peered out, but a rising mist from the lagoon 
 and the bay hindered the vision, and the sound of 
 the rolling drum had ceased. 
 
 The hack swung around a few corners, and then 
 halted 
 
 "Here we are!" cried Dicky Nahl at the door. 
 "You get aboard the tug and push off. Jake and T 
 will run up to the foot of the wharf. If they come, 
 we can keep em off long enough for you to get 
 aboard." Dicky had a revolver in each hand, and 
 the determined ring of his voice, so different from 
 his usual light bantering tone, gave me assurance 
 of his sincerity. With the horseman he hastened to 
 the entrance of the wharf, where the two loomed 
 through the mist like shadow-men. 
 
 The tug was where it lay when we left, and at tny 
 hail the captain and his crew of three were astir. 
 It was a moment s work to get Mrs. Knapp and her 
 charge aboard. 
 
378 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 "Come on!" I cried to Dicky and his companion. 
 And as the lines were cast off they made a running 
 jump on to the deck of the tug boat, and the vessel 
 backed out into the stream. 
 
 As the wharf faded away into the mist that hung 
 over the waters I thought I saw shapes of men and 
 horses rushing frantically to the edge, and a mas 
 sive figure waving its arms like a madman, and 
 shouting impotent curses into the air. But with 
 the distance, the uncertain light, and the curtain 
 of mist that was thickening between us, my eyes 
 might have deceived me, and I omitted to mention 
 my suspicions to Mrs. Knapp. 
 
 When the mist and darkness had blotted out 
 shore, wharves and shipping, the tug moved at half- 
 speed down the channel. I persuaded the captain 
 that there was no need to sound the whistle, but he 
 declined gruffly to increase his speed. 
 
 "I might as well be shot as run my boat ashore," 
 he growled, with a few emphatic seamanlike ad 
 jectives that appeared to belong to nothing in par 
 ticular. "And any one that doesn t like my way of 
 running a boat can get out and walk." 
 
 I did not know of any particular reason for ar 
 guing the question, so I joined Mrs. Knapp. 
 
 "Thank God, we are safe!" she said, with a sigh 
 of relief. 
 
 "We shall be in the city in half an hour, if that 
 is safety," I said. 
 
 "It will be safety for a few days. Then we can 
 
THE HEART O F TH E MYSTERY 379 
 
 devise a new plan. I have a strong arm to lean on 
 again." 
 
 "I think if you would tell me who the boy is, and 
 why the danger threatens him, I might help you 
 more wisely." 
 
 "Perhaps you are right," said Mrs. Knapp 
 thoughtfully. "You shall know before it is neces 
 sary to make our next plans." 
 
 And then the boy called for her attention and I 
 returned to the deck. 
 
 The light of the morning was growing. Vessels 
 were moving. The whistles of the ferry-boats, as 
 they gave warning of their way through the mist, 
 rose shrill on the air. The waters were still, a faint 
 ripple showing in strange contrast to the scene of 
 last night. 
 
 "There s a steamer behind us," said Dicky Nahl, 
 with a worried look as I joined him. "I ve been lis 
 tening to it for five minutes." 
 
 "It s a tug," said the captain. "She was lying on 
 the other side of the wharf last night." 
 
 "Good heavens!" I cried. "Put on full steam, 
 then, or we shall be run down in the bay. It s the 
 gang we are trying to get away from." 
 
 The captain looked at me suspiciously for a mo 
 ment, and was inclined to resent my interference. 
 Then he shrugged his shoulders as though it was 
 none of his business whether we were lunatics or 
 not so long as we paid for the privilege, and rang 
 the engine bell for full speed ahead. 
 
380 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 We had just come out of the Oakland Creek 
 channel and the mist suddenly thinned before us. 
 It left the bay and the city fair and wholesome in 
 the gray light, as though the storm had washed the 
 grime and foulness from air and earth and renewed 
 the freshness of life. The clear outline of the hills 
 was scarcely broken by smoke. The ever-changing 
 beauties of the most beautiful of bays took on the 
 faint suggestion of a livelier tint, the herald of the 
 coming sun. We had come but a few hundred 
 yards into the clear air when out of the mist bank 
 behind us shot another tug, the smoke streaming 
 from the funnel, the steam puffing noisily from the 
 escapes and the engine straining to increase the 
 speed. 
 
 At the exclamation that broke from us, our cap 
 tain for the first time showed interest in the speed 
 of his boat, and whistled angrily down to his engi 
 neer. 
 
 "We can beat her" he said, with a contemptuous 
 accent on the "her." 
 
 "That s your business," I returned, and walked 
 aft to where Mrs. Knapp was standing, half-way 
 up the steps from the cabin. 
 
 "There is Darby Meeker," I said, getting sight 
 of him on the pursuing tug. 
 
 "Can they catch us?" inquired Mrs. Knapp, the 
 lines tightening about her mouth. 
 
 "I think not the captain says not. I should say 
 that we were holding our own now," 
 
T H E H E A R T O F T H E M Y S T E R Y 381 
 
 At this moment a tall, massive figure stepped 
 from the pilot-house of the pursuing tug and shook 
 its fists at us. At the sight of the man my heart 
 stood still. The huge bulk, the wolf-face, just dis 
 tinguishable, distorted, dark with rage and passion, 
 stopped the blood, and I felt a faintness as of drop 
 ping from a height. With a gasp, life and voice 
 came back to me. 
 
 "Doddridge Knapp!" I cried. 
 
 Mrs. Knapp looked at me in alarm, and grasped 
 the rail. 
 
 "No! no!" she exclaimed. "A thousand times 
 no! That is Elijah Lane!" 
 
 I gazed at her in wonder. Not Doddridge 
 Knapp! Had my eyes played me false? 
 
 "Do you not understand?" she said in a low, in 
 tense tone. "He is Elijah Lane, the father of the 
 boy. An evil, wicked man mad truly mad. He 
 would kill the boy. He killed the mother of the 
 boy. I know, but it is not a case for proof not a 
 case that the law can touch. And he hates the boy 
 and me !" 
 
 I began to grasp the truth, and recovered speech./ 
 
 "But why does he want to kill him? And would 
 not the law punish the crime ?" 
 
 "You do not understand. The boy inherits a 
 great fortune from his mother. Mr. Knapp and I 
 are left trustees by the mother s will. If he had 
 control of the boy, the boy would die ; but it would 
 be from cruelty, disease, neglect. It would not be 
 
382 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 murder in the eye of the law. But I know what 
 would happen. Oh, see the wretch ! How he hates 
 me!" 
 
 I was stunned with the words I had heard. They 
 made much plain that had puzzled me, yet they left 
 much more in darkness; and I looked blankly at 
 the figure on the other tug. It was truly a strange 
 sight. The man was beside himself with rage, 
 shouting, gesticulating and leaping about the deck 
 in transports of passion. He showed every mark of 
 a maniac. 
 
 Suddenly he drew a revolver and sent shot after 
 shot in our direction. We were far beyond the 
 reach of a pistol bullet, but Mrs. Knapp screamed 
 and dodged. 
 
 "How he hates me!" she cried again. 
 
 When the last shot was gone from his revolver 
 the man flung the weapon in frenzy, as though he 
 could hope to strike us thus. 
 
 Then a strange thing happened. Whether due to 
 the effort he had made in the throw, or to a lurch 
 of the tug in the waves we left behind us, or to a 
 stumble over some obstruction, I could not say. 
 But we saw the man suddenly pitch forward over 
 the low bulwarks of the tug into the waters of the 
 bay. 
 
 Mrs. Knapp gave a scream and covered her 
 eyes. 
 
 "Stop the boat!" I shouted. "Back her!" 
 
 The other tug had checked its headway at the 
 
T H E H E A R T O F T H E M Y S T E R Y 383 
 
 same time, and there was a line of six or seven men 
 along its side. 
 
 "There he is !" cried one. 
 
 The captain laid our tug across the tidal stream 
 that swept us strongly toward Goat Island. Then 
 he steamed slowly toward the other tug. 
 
 "He s gone/ said Dicky. 
 
 The other tug seemed anxious to keep away from 
 us, as in distrust of our good intentions. I scanned 
 the waters carefully, but the drowning man had 
 gone down. 
 
 Then, rising not twenty feet away, floating for 
 a moment on the surface of the water, I saw plainly 
 for the first time, the very caricature of the face of 
 Doddridge Knapp. The strong wolf-features 
 which in the King of the Street were eloquent of 
 power, intellect and sagacity, were here marked with 
 the record of passion, hatred and evil life. I mar 
 veled now that I had ever traced a likeness between 
 them. 
 
 "Give me that hook!" I cried, leaning over the 
 side of the tug. "Go ahead a little." 
 
 One of the men threw a rope. It passed too far, 
 and drifted swiftly behind. 
 
 I made a wild reach with the hook, but it was too 
 short. Just as I thought I should succeed, the face 
 gave a convulsive twitch, as if in a parting outburst 
 of hate and wrath, and the body sank out of sight. 
 We waited for a few minutes, but there was no 
 further sign. The other tug that had hovered near 
 
384 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 us turned about and made for the Oakland shore. 1 
 signed to the captain to take his course for the city. 
 
 The men talked in subdued tones, and I stood 
 half-bewildered, with a bursting sense of relief, by 
 Mrs. Knapp. At last she took her hands from be 
 fore her eyes, and the first rays of the sun that 
 cleared the tops of the Alameda Hills touched her 
 calm, solemn, hopeful face. 
 
 "A new day has dawned," she said. "Let us give 
 thanks to God." 
 
CHAPTER XXX 
 
 THE END OF THE JOURNEY 
 
 For a few minutes we were silent. Water and 
 land and sky started into new glories at the touch 
 of the rising sun. The many-hilled city took on the 
 hues of a fairy picture, and the windows gleamed 
 with the magic fires that were flashed back in greet 
 ing to the god of day. The few cotton-ball clouds 
 that lingered about the mountain-tops, sole strag 
 glers of the army that had trooped up from the 
 south at the blast of the rain- wind, turned from 
 pink to white. The green-gray waters of the bay 
 rippled lightly in the tide as the tug sent the minia 
 ture surges trailing in diverging lines from its bow. 
 The curtain of mist that hid the Alameda shore rose 
 and lightened at the touch of the warm rays. The 
 white sails of the high-masted ships scattered 
 through the bay, drooped in graceful festoons as 
 they turned to the sun to rid them of the rain-water 
 that clung to their folds. The ferry-boats, moving 
 with mock majesty, furnished the signs of life to 
 the silent panorama. 
 
 It seemed scarcely possible that this was the rag 
 ing, tossing water we had crossed last night. And the 
 
 385 
 
386 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 fiery scene of passion and death we had just wit 
 nessed was so foreign to its calm beauties, that I 
 could believe it had happened elsewhere in some 
 dream of long ago. 
 
 I was roused by the voice of Mrs. Knapp, who sat 
 at the head of the cabin stairs, looking absently over 
 the water. 
 
 "I have not dealt frankly with you," she said. 
 "Perhaps it is better that you should know, as you 
 know so much already. I. feel that I may rely on 
 your discretion." 
 
 "I think I can keep a secret," I replied, concealing 
 my curiosity. 
 
 "I should not tell you if I did not have full con 
 fidence." Then she was silent for a minute. "That 
 man," she continued at last, with a shudder in her 
 voice, "that man was Mr. Knapp s brother." 
 
 I suppressed an exclamation, and she continued : 
 
 "They have little in common, even in looks. I 
 wonder you thought for a moment that he was Mr. 
 Knapp. Few people who know them both have 
 traced a resemblance." 
 
 "Perhaps those who do not know them would be 
 more likely to find the common points," I suggested. 
 "Members of a family see only the difference that 
 marks one of them from another. The stranger at 
 first sees the family type in all and notes the differ 
 ences later." 
 
 "Yes," said Mrs. Knapp. "It s like picking out 
 the Chinamen. At first they are all alike. We see 
 
THE END OF THE JOURNEY 387 
 
 only the race type. Afterward, we see the many 
 and marked differences." 
 
 "I think," said I, leading back to the main sub 
 ject, "that the remarkable circumstances under 
 which I had seen Mr. Lane had a good deal to do 
 with the illusion. This morning, for the first time, 
 I saw his face under full light and close at hand." 
 
 Mrs. Knapp nodded. Then she continued : 
 
 "Mr. Knapp and his brother parted thirty years 
 ago in Ohio. The brother the man who has just 
 gone was younger than Mr. Knapp, though he 
 looked older. He was wild in his youth. When 
 he left home it was in the night, and for some of 
 fense that would have brought him within reach of 
 the law. Mr. Knapp never told me what it was and 
 I never asked. For fifteen years nothing was heard 
 of him. Mr. Knapp and I married, we had come to 
 San Francisco, and he was already a rising man 
 in the city. One day this man came. He had 
 drifted to the coast in some lawless enterprise, and 
 by chance found his brother." 
 
 Mrs. Knapp paused. 
 
 " And at once began to live off of him, I suppose," 
 I threw in as an encouragement to proceed. 
 
 "Not exactly," said Mrs. Knapp. "He confessed 
 some of his rascality to Mr. Knapp, but pleaded 
 that he was anxious to reform. Mr. Knapp agreed 
 to help him, but made the condition that he should 
 take another name, and should never allow the re 
 lationship to be known. Mr. Lane I can not call 
 
388 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 him by his true name was ready to agree to the 
 conditions. I think he was very glad indeed to con 
 ceal himself under an assumed name, and hide from 
 the memory of his earlier years." 
 
 "Had his crimes then been so great?" I asked, as 
 Mrs. Knapp again ceased to speak. 
 
 "He had been a wicked, wicked man/ said Mrs. 
 Knapp. "The full tale of his villainy I never knew, 
 but he had been a negro stealer, one of those who 
 captured free negroes or the darkies from Ken 
 tucky and Missouri in the days before the war, and 
 sold them down the river. He had been the leader 
 of a wild band in Arkansas and Texas, who made 
 their living by robbing travelers and stealing horses. 
 He had been near death a hundred times, yet he 
 had escaped unhurt. Mr. Knapp helped him. He 
 prospered in business, bought a ranch, and turned 
 farmer. To all appearances, he had reformed com 
 pletely. No one would suspect in the Sonoma 
 rancher the daring leader of the outlaws in Texas." 
 
 "I could believe anything of him," I said grimly. 
 
 "You have had a taste of his quality," said Mrs. 
 Knapp. "Well, it was seven years ago that he mar 
 ried. His wife was much younger than he, a love 
 ly girl, and her parents were rich. How he got her 
 I do not see. It was his gift of the tongue, I sup 
 pose, for he could talk well. She was not happy 
 with him, but was better contented when, two years 
 later, her boy came. Mr. Lane was often from 
 home, but I do not think she regretted the neglect 
 
THE END OF THE JOURNEY 389 
 
 with which he treated her. He was not a man who 
 made his home pleasant while he was about. After a 
 while he used to disappear for weeks, spending the 
 time in low haunts in the city, or none knew where. 
 Last year Mrs. Lane s father died, and she came in 
 under the will for more than a million dollars 
 worth of property. Then Mr. Lane changed his 
 habits. He became most attentive to his wife. He 
 looked to her wants, and appeared to the world as 
 a model husband. But more was going on than we 
 knew. From the little she told me, from the hints 
 she dropped, she must have looked upon him with 
 dread. She failed rapidly in health, and six months 
 ago she died." 
 
 "Murdered? I asked. 
 
 "I believe it with all my soul," said Mrs. Knapp. 
 "But there was no evidence not a particle. I tried 
 to find it, but it was beyond the power of the doctors 
 to discover." 
 
 "And his motive?" 
 
 "He thought he was heir to her fortune. When 
 he found that she had left it with Mr. Knapp and 
 me, in trust for the boy, his rage was frightful to 
 see. His servants told me of his dreadful ravings. 
 He dared not say a word to Mr. Knapp, but he 
 came and spoke to me about it. I was afraid for 
 my life that time. He said that the money was his, 
 and he said it with such meaning that I felt assured 
 he would stop at nothing to get it. But when he 
 spoke, I cut him so short that he visited the house 
 
390 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 but once again. Before he had time to put any of 
 his wicked thoughts into action I took the boy to 
 my home, thinking that there I could keep him in 
 safety. Mr. Knapp pooh-poohed my fears, and 
 when Mr. Lane made a demand for the child was 
 in favor of giving him up. The father is the one 
 to care for the boy/ he said, and washed his hands 
 of the whole matter." 
 
 "Then Mr. Knapp had nothing to do with the 
 affair, one way or the other?" 
 
 "Oh, no nothing at all. I believe, though, that 
 Henry did use his name with the police, to deter 
 them from interfering with our plans." 
 
 I remembered Detective Coogan s words, and 
 knew that she was correct in this supposition. 
 
 "Mr. Lane," she continued, "threatened legal 
 proceedings. But, knowing his own past, and 
 knowing that I knew something of it, too, he dared 
 not begin them. Mr. Knapp s feelings in the mat 
 ter had made me unwilling to keep the boy in my 
 house, but at first I thought it the best way of pro 
 tecting him, and had him with me. Then one night 
 the house was broken into, and two men were dis- 
 Icovered in the room where the boy usually slept. I 
 had taken him to my own bed that night, for he was 
 ailing, and so he escaped. The alarm was raised 
 before they found him, and the men fled. Mr. 
 Knapp was confident that they were ordinary house 
 breakers, but I knew better. I dared keep the boy 
 there no longer, and called Henry Wilton to assist 
 
THE END OF THE JOURNEY 391 
 
 me in making him safe. He found a suitable house 
 for the boy, and hired men to guard it. But after 
 one experience in which the place was attacked and 
 almost carried by storm, Henry thought it better 
 to hide the boy and watch the enemy. The rest 
 you know." 
 
 Heaving a sigh as of relief, she went on : 
 
 "Mr. Lane was insane, I am certain. I tried to 
 have Mr. Knapp take steps to lock him up. But 
 Mr. Knapp could not believe that his brother was 
 so wicked as to wish to take the life of his own 
 child, and shut his ears to the talk of his madness. 
 I think he was fearful of a scandal in which the re 
 lationship should become known, and the stories of 
 his brother s early days should come to the public. 
 But there was a time, a few weeks ago, when I was 
 near spurring Mr. Knapp to action. It was at the 
 time of his trip to Virginia City. Mr. Lane came 
 to the house while I was away and scared the ser 
 vants into fits with his threats and curses. Luella 
 had the courage and tact to face him and get him 
 out of the house, and I telegraphed for Mr. Knapp." 
 
 "I remember the occasion, though I didn t know) 
 what was going on." 
 
 "Well, Mr. Knapp was very angry, and had a 
 long talk with Lane. He told me that the creature 
 cried and pleaded for forgiveness, and promised 
 amendment for the future. And Mr. Knapp be 
 lieved him. Yet that very night you were assailed 
 with Luella in Chinatown." 
 
392 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 The truth flashed on me. The groans and cries 
 behind the locked door in Doddridge Knapp s 
 office, the voices which were like to one man plead 
 ing and arguing with himself, were all explained. 
 
 "I think the assault was something of an acci 
 dent," she continued; "or, rather, it was more the 
 doing of Terrill than of Lane." 
 
 "What was the cause of Ten-ill s enmity?" I 
 asked. "He seemed to take a hearty personal in 
 terest in the case for a hired man." 
 
 "For one thing, a family interest. I think he is 
 a son of Lane s early years. For another, he had 
 a violent personal quarrel with Henry over some 
 matter, and you have had the benefit of the enmity. 
 But I don t think you ll hear of him again- or 
 Meeker either. They will be in too much of a hurry 
 to leave the state." 
 
 I thought of Terrill lying bruised and sore at 
 Livermore, and felt no fear of him. 
 
 "You took great chances in sending me to Liver- 
 more," I said. "It might have gone hard with Mr. 
 Knapp s plans if I had not got back." 
 
 "I thought of that. But if the boy had been 
 where I supposed all would have been well. I 
 should have telegraphed you before nightfall to re 
 turn. But in the distraction of my search I did not 
 give up till midnight. I left a telegram at the office 
 to be sent you the first thing in the morning, but 
 by that time you were here. It was a bold escape, 
 and I feel that we owe you much for it." 
 
THE END OF THE JOURNEY 393 
 
 , At her last words we were at the wharf, and land 
 ed free frpm fear. 
 
 An hour later I reached my lodgings, sore with 
 fatigue, and half-dead for want of sleep. The ex 
 citement that had spurred my strength for the last 
 enterprise no longer supported me. I slept twenty- 
 four hours in peace, and no dream of Doddridge 
 Knapp s brother or of the snake-eyes of Tom Ter- 
 rill disturbed my repose. 
 
CHAPTER XXXi 
 
 THE REWARD 
 
 "I ve heard about you," said Luella, when on 
 the next evening I made my bow to her. "But I 
 want to hear all about it from yourself. Tell me, 
 please." 
 
 "Where shall I begin ? ? I asked, looking into the 
 most charming of faces, which shone before me. 
 
 "How stupid to ask ! At the beginning, . of 
 
 course." 
 
 "I was born of poor but honest parents" I be 
 gan. 
 
 Luella interrupted me with a laugh. 
 
 "How absurd you are! Anyhow, you can tell 
 me about that later. Just begin with the San Fran 
 cisco beginning. Tell me why you came and all 
 about it." 
 
 "Very good," I said; "though really this part is 
 much longer than the other." 
 
 Then I told her the story of my coming, of the 
 murder of Henry Wilton, of the struggles with 
 death and difficulty that had given the spice of vari 
 ety to my life since I had come across the conti 
 nent. 
 
 394 
 
THE REWARD 395 
 
 It was an inspiration to have such a listener. Un 
 der the encouragement of her sympathy I found an 
 unwonted flow of words and ideas. Laughter and 
 tears shone in her eyes as the ludicrous and sor 
 rowful parts of my experience touched her by turns. 
 And at the end I found I really don t know how; 
 it happened I found that I was clasping her hand - 
 and looking up into her eyes in a trance of intoxica 
 tion from the subtle magnetism of her lovely pres 
 ence. 
 
 For a minute we were silent. 
 
 "Oh," she cried softly, withdrawing her hand, 
 and looking dreamily away, "I knew it was right 
 that it must be right. You have justified my faith, 
 and more!" 
 
 "I am repaid for all by those words," I said. I 
 am afraid I stared very hard at her, but it was pleas 
 ant, indeed, to look into Luella s eyes without any 
 reservations or conscientious qualms in thinking of 
 my duty to hang her father. 
 
 "You deserve a much greater reward than that," 
 said Luella. 
 
 "I want a much greater reward than that," said I 
 boldly. 
 
 I did not think the courage was in me. But un 
 der the magnetic influence of the woman before me 
 I forgot what a poor devil I was. Luella looked at 
 me, and I saw in her eyes that she understood what 
 I would say. 
 
 I do not know what I did say. I have no doubt 
 
396 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 it was very badly put, but she listened seriously. 
 Then she said : 
 
 "That s very nice of you to want me, but I am 
 going to marry the president of the Omega Com 
 pany." 
 
 I turned sick with despair at these words so gen 
 tly said, and a pang of fierce jealousy, tinged with 
 wonder, shot through me. "Surely she can t be in 
 love with that red- faced brute we fought with in 
 the Omega office," I thought. That was impossible. 
 Besides, we had turned him out. Doddridge Knapp 
 would be president as soon as the new board of di 
 rectors elected its officers. She couldn t, of course, 
 think of marrying her own father. I could not un 
 derstand what she meant, but I knew I was furious 
 ly uncomfortable and wished I was rich enough to 
 buy up the company. Luella saw my distress as I 
 tried to rise and fly from the place. 
 
 "Don t go," she said gently. "What are you go 
 ing to do with your men?" 
 
 "The free companions are to be disbanded," I 
 said, recovering myself with a gulp. 
 
 "Are any of them killed?" she asked in solicitous 
 tones. 
 
 "No. Porter is pretty badly hurt. We got him 
 down from Livermore to-day. He was in the jail 
 there, with Abrams and Brown. We gave bail for 
 them, au-5 all the men are back at the Montgomery 
 Street place. Barkhouse is getting on all right, and 
 there are a few bruises and cuts scattered around in 
 
THE REWARD 
 
 397 
 
 my flock. But they ll all be in trim for another 
 fight in two or three weeks." 
 
 "I suppose you ll be sorry to part with them." 
 
 "They are a faithful set, but I ve had enough ex 
 citement for a while." 
 
 "And Mrs. Borton?" 
 
 "Is to be buried to-morrow." 
 
 "And you, Mr. Dudley?" 
 
 This question struck me a little blank. I had 
 really not thought of what I was going to do. 
 
 "It s another case of an occupation gone," I said 
 rather ruefully. "With the break-up of the plots 
 and the close of the Omega deal, I am at the end 
 of my employments." 
 
 \Vith this view of the question before me, I fell 
 into a panic of regrets, and began to blush furiously 
 at my folly in imagining for an instant that Luella 
 could think of me for a husband. 
 
 "No," said Luella thoughtfully. "You are just 
 at the beginning." 
 
 The tone, even more than the words, braced my 
 nerves, and once more there glowed within me a 
 generous courage of the future. 
 
 "You are right. I thank you," I said feelingly. 
 "I have faith in the opportunities." 
 
 "And I have faith " said Luella. Then she 
 stopped. 
 
 "In the man, I hope," I ventured. 
 
 Luella did not answer, but she gave me a look 
 that meant more than words. I was a trifle be- 
 
398 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 wildered, wondering where I stood in the eyes of 
 this capricious young woman, but my speculations 
 were cut short by the coming of Mrs. Knapp. 
 
 There was no reservation in her greeting. What 
 ever lingering doubts of me her mind had held, they 
 had all melted away in the fire of that last journey 
 that had ended the struggle for the life of the boy. 
 As we talked over the events of the month, I found 
 nothing left of the silent opposition with which she 
 had watched my growing friendship with the 
 daughter of the house. At last she cried : 
 
 "Oh, I had almost forgotten. Mr. Knapp wishes 
 to see you in his room before you go." 
 
 "I am at his service," I said, and went at once to 
 the den of the Wolf. 
 
 "Ah, Wilton, I find you re not Wilton," he 
 growled amiably. The loss pf his brother had not 
 affected his spirits.- 
 
 "Quite true/ I said. 
 
 "You needn t explain," he said. "The women 
 folks say it s all right, though I don t quite under 
 stand it myself." 
 
 "I can tell you the story," I said. 
 
 "I don t want to hear it," he growled. "I ve tried 
 you, and that s enough for me." 
 
 I murmured my appreciation and thanks for his 
 good opinion. 
 
 The Wolf waved his hand as a disposal of all 
 acknowledgments, and growled again : 
 
 "Have you any engagements that would keep 
 
THE REWARD 399 
 
 you from taking- the place of president of the Omega 
 Company?" 
 
 I fell back on the chair, speechless. 
 
 There ll be a good salary," he continued. "Well, 
 of course, you needn t be in a hurry to accept. Take 
 a day to think over it if you like." 
 
 The Wolf actually smiled. 
 
 "Oh, I don t need any time," I gasped. "I ll take 
 it now/ 
 
 "Well, you ll have to wait till the directors meet," 
 he said. 
 
 I gave him my hearty thanks for the unlooked-for 
 favor. 
 
 "To tell you the truth," he said, "it was the do 
 ing of the women folks." 
 
 My heart gave a leap at the announcement, for it 
 carried a great deal more with it than Doddridge 
 Knapp knew. 
 
 "I am a thousand times obliged to you and the 
 ladies," I said. 
 
 "Well, I wasn t unwilling," he said indulgently. 
 "In fact, I intended to do something handsome for 
 you. But there s one condition I must make." 
 
 I looked my inquiry. 
 
 "You must not speculate. You haven t got the 
 head for it." 
 
 "Thank you," I said. "I ll keep out, except un 
 der your orders." 
 
 "Right," he said. "You ve the best head for 
 carrying out orders I ever found." 
 
400 BLINDFOLDED 
 
 The King of the Street waved me good night, 
 and I went back to the parlor. 
 
 Luella was sitting where I had left her, and no 
 one else was about. She was looking demurely 
 down and did not glance up till I was beside her. 
 
 "I have won a double prize/ I said. "I am the 
 president of Omega.-" 
 
 And I stooped and kissed her. 
 
 THE END 
 
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