TAE-NIGATWMXT 
 VS PROAIJE 
 
 'VARICKj VANARDY>
 
 JJ 
 
 I
 
 CALIF. LIBRARY. LOS AlW
 
 THE 
 NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 BY 
 
 VARRICK VANARDY 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 "ALIAS THE NIGHT WIND" 
 "THE RETURN OF THE NIGHT WIND" 
 
 ETC. 
 
 M. A. DONOHUE & COMPANY 
 
 CHICAGO NEW YORK
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1914. BY 
 THE FRANK A. MUNSEY CO, 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1914, BY 
 G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY 
 
 The Night Wind's Promise
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 I. THE BEGINNING OF A FELONY 
 
 II. THE PLOTTING OF HOLBROOK CHILTON 
 
 III. THE INSIDE OF AN ENVELOPE . 
 
 IV. THE VALUE OF Two GOLD PIECES . 
 V. THE KNIFE-THROWER 
 
 VI. CHILTON'S UNSPEAKABLE CLEVERNESS 
 
 VII. THE OTHER MAN FROM MEXICO . 
 
 VIII. THE MAKING OF A MAN 
 
 IX. ROLLING A CIGARETTE 
 
 X. SOME OF RUSHTON'S "DOPE" . 
 
 XI. TOM CLANCY'S FOOL REUARK 
 
 XII. THE SERPENT AND LADY KATE . 
 
 XIII. Two CAN PLAY AT THE SAME GAME 
 
 XIV. SHE CAME FROM OLD KENTUCKY . 
 XV. AN IMPORTANT SNAPSHOT 
 
 XVI. THE PICTURE OF HOLBROOK CHILTON 
 
 XVII. THE MESSAGE FROM MEXICO . 
 
 XVIII. LADY KATE'S PERIL 
 
 XIX. AN ELEMENTAL PUZZLE . 
 
 XX. THE SWEETEST STORY EVER TOLD . 
 
 XXI. AGAIN THAT CHILTON PICTURE 
 
 XXII. AN EXCHANGE OF WARNINGS 
 
 XXIII. BINTGHAM HARVARD'S QUIET WAY 
 
 XXIV. A LEOPARD AND His SPOTS . 
 
 PAGE 
 
 5 
 . 14 
 . 2O 
 
 25 
 
 31 
 
 37 
 
 Si 
 . 61 
 . 70 
 
 76 
 
 85 
 . 92 
 
 99 
 
 . 108 
 H7 
 126 
 
 135 
 141 
 
 149 
 157 
 164 
 
 175 
 182 
 190 
 
 2133487
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAO1 
 
 XXV. THE OTHER SIDE OF BENTON KEESE . . 198 
 
 XXVI. WHEN IT WAS BETTY'S MOVE . . . 203 
 
 XXVII. WITH THE PACK IN FULL CRY . . . 213 
 
 XXVIII. GHOST HOUSE 222 
 
 XXIX. THE TRIUMPH OF BENTON KEESE . . . 231 
 
 XXX. APPROACHING A CRISIS 237 
 
 XXXI. AN INTERCEPTED BLOW 245 
 
 XXXII. THE TOUCH OF THE NIGHT WIND . .251 
 
 XXXIII. WHEN A MAN LIES 257 
 
 XXXIV. WHEN KEESE PUT UP A BLUFF . . .263 
 XXXV. THE MASK Is TORN AWAY . ... 269 
 
 XXXVI. A HOLD-UP AT THE RED SCHOOLHOUSE . . 278 
 
 XXXVII. THE DISAPPEARANCE OF KEESE . . .287 
 
 XXXVIII. WHAT BECAME OF BETTY . . . .291 
 
 XXXIX. THE COURAGE OF LADY KATE . . . .297 
 
 XL. IN PURSUIT OF THE GRAY CAR . . . 305 
 
 XLI. THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE . . . .311 
 
 XLII. SUPPLYING THE PROOFS 3^5
 
 THE NIGHT WIND'S 
 PROMISE 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE BEGINNING OF A FELONY 
 
 When Eulogio Llorente, photographer, having his 
 studio in the calle Plateros Secundo, in the city of 
 Mexico, posed Anderson Van Cleve, the American 
 contractor, mine-owner and speculator, for his pic- 
 ture that bright September day, and imparted cer- 
 tain apparently unimportant information to the man 
 who accompanied Van Cleve, he little thought that 
 he was assisting in the commission of a crime that 
 was soon thereafter to be enacted in the city of 
 New York, four thousand miles away. Yet it was 
 so. Let the fact of it and the circumstances sur- 
 rounding it be a warning to all who read these 
 words against the giving of unnecessary profes- 
 sional information to chance acquaintances, no mat- 
 ter how well recommended or in whose company 
 they may happen to be. 
 
 The circumstance happened in this way: 
 Two hours before the pictures were taken, Van 
 Cleve, seated in his sumptuous office in the calle 
 Gante, a few doors in from the calle San Francisco, 
 
 5
 
 6 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 near the Plazuela de Guardiola, turned quickly in 
 his swivel-chair when the door opened. 
 
 "Hello, Chilton !" he exclaimed cordially, getting 
 upon his feet and extending his hand to a tall, 
 bearded, sun-and-wind-burned man of little more 
 than half his own age, who came breezily and briskly 
 forward and grasped the proffered hand of his em- 
 ployer. 
 
 "You are on time, I see," Van Cleve went on 
 genially. "That is your long suit, Chilton. Sit 
 down. Help yourself to a cigar. I have got a lot 
 to say to you. Otherwise I would not have brought 
 you in from Guerrero in such haste. But, first, how 
 are my affairs going forward in Guerrero ?" 
 
 "Badly, Mr. Van Cleve," was the reply. "The 
 work is at a standstill everywhere. The peons 
 won't work. They sneak away or boldly walk out, 
 by twos and tens and scores, to join their fortunes 
 with the Federals, or the Constitutionalists, or the 
 Zapatistas it makes mighty small difference to 
 them which so long as they feel assured of getting 
 paid. But it leaves us in the hole just the same." 
 
 Van Geve nodded understandingly. He was a 
 tall, spare man, smooth-shaved, past sixty, rather 
 handsome and distinguished-looking for one of his 
 years, and with scarcely a gray hair to show among 
 the almost black ones that crowned his fine head. 
 He was dressed conventionally and immaculately ; a 
 polished silk hat rested upon the top of the desk at 
 which he reseated himself after shaking hands with 
 his superintendent and general manager. 
 
 Holbrook Chilton, in contrast, wore the charo
 
 THE BEGINNING OF A FELONY Y 
 
 costume of the Guerrero mountaineer, save for the 
 American-made, laced, civil-engineer's boots, hob- 
 nailed and effective for use among the mountains. 
 He made a picturesque figure when he came into the 
 room attired in the tight-fitting leather trousers, dec- 
 orated with silver coins down each outer seam, be- 
 ginning at the waist with pesos, of which there were 
 several, and growing smaller in groups of threes 
 until they disappeared beneath his boot-tops in 
 reales and medios. And his huge Mexican som- 
 brero that he tossed to the top of the desk beside 
 the silk hat of his employer was the real thing, and 
 could not have cost less than sixty Mexican pesos. 
 
 One might well have mistaken him for a native 
 of the Guerrean mountains. It seemed impossible 
 that the skin of a white man could be tanned to such 
 a deep brown, even by the out-of-door life that 
 Chilton had been living during the two and a half 
 years he had been Anderson Van Cleve's general 
 manager. And, as proved to be the case later on, 
 the sun and wind and exposure to the elements had 
 not done all of it. Art, dexterously applied, had 
 been called upon to aid in the making of that leath- 
 ery-brown complexion. 
 
 He was thirty-five, and he looked fifty-five in 
 some ways ; and yet if he had told you that he was 
 fifty-five you would have doubted it. If you had 
 sought to describe him to another you would have 
 said that he was either a very old-looking young 
 man or an equally young-looking old man. All of 
 us have seen and known such characters. 
 
 As the two men were seated facing each other
 
 8 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 Van Cleve appeared scarcely older than his e'm- 
 ployee, save for the expression of the eyes and some 
 shallow wrinkles here and there which age inevita- 
 bly bestows. 
 
 "Bad, eh ?" Van Cleve responded without a pause 
 and nodded his head again. "I know it," he went 
 on. "It was bad enough very soon after Don Por- 
 firio, of la mano dura, left the country; it has been 
 growing worse ever since. It is about the limit; 
 now, Chilton." 
 
 "It sure is, Mr. Van Cleve," the manager replied 
 with emphasis. 
 
 "That is why I sent for you to come in," the 
 employer added. 
 
 Chilton nodded his head without replying. 
 
 "I have decided to get out of the country," Van 
 Cleve continued after a short pause. "I am going 
 to fly the coop, Chilton. America little old New 
 York, where I was born and where I lived until I 
 was thirty-five is good enough for me. I haven't 
 been back there but twice in all that time since 
 then." 
 
 "If you leave Mexico now, Mr. Van Cleve, the 
 act will entail great sacrifices of money and prop- 
 erty, will it not?" Chilton asked tritely. 
 
 "Naturally; more as to property than as to cash, 
 however," was the reply. "For the last three years 
 or more I have been sending all the money I could 
 spare from my undertakings here out of the coun- 
 try." 
 
 "Indeed ?" said Chilton, with a rising inflection. 
 
 Van Cleve nodded sagely.
 
 THE BEGINNING OF A FELONY 9 
 
 "I have quite a substantial balance to my credit 
 in the Centropolis Bank in New York," he said 
 retrospectively ; "quite a substantial balance. I have 
 been sending large sums there as rapidly as I could 
 do so. The president of that bank is an old friend 
 of mine. We were boys together, schoolmates, and 
 all that. Later, we were associated more or less 
 intimately in business affairs. He went into his 
 father's bank, and when the old man died succeeded 
 him. I entered a broker's office in the 'Street.' 
 Then, at thirty-five, I pulled up stakes and came 
 here. I haven't seen Sterling Chester but twice in 
 thirty years, and the last time was ten years ago." 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 "Chester Sterling Chester, the president of the 
 Centropolis Bank that I just now mentioned. Or 
 rather he was the president of it until very recently. 
 The last report I received, which the bank annually 
 sends out to its depositors, stated that Bingham 
 Harvard had succeeded to the presidency and that 
 Chester had retired." 
 
 Chilton coughed spasmodically. He explained 
 after a moment that the smoke from his cigar had 
 strangled him when he inhaled it. 
 
 "I suppose, Mr. Van Cleve, that you are well 
 acquainted with him also, this er Bingham Har- 
 vard ?" he inquired. 
 
 "No. As a matter of fact, I am not," the con- 
 tractor-miner replied. "I did not see him the last 
 time I was back, ten years ago, although I heard 
 enough about him. Chester is very fond of him. 
 He is an adopted son."
 
 10 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 "Then you have never seen him ? He has never 
 seen you, Mr. Van Qeve?" 
 
 "Oh, yes ! I saw him when I went back the first 
 time. But that was more than twenty years ago. 
 Bingham Harvard was only a child then." 
 
 "I see." 
 
 Chilton spoke half to his employer, half to him- 
 self, to judge by his manner and tone. He spoke 
 as if he were weighing some possibilities that had 
 occurred to him. 
 
 "Of course there are many others in the city who 
 could readily identify you?" he inquired. 
 
 "Eh what? I don't know about that, Chilton. 
 Almost all of my old friends and acquainances in 
 New York are dead, or have gone to other parts of 
 the world, the same as I have. My best friend, 
 next to Chester, died three or four years ago." 
 
 "Who was that?" 
 
 "His name was Brian Clancy. He had a son, 
 Tom, who succeeded him in business. But I have 
 not seen him since he was five years old, although 
 he has transacted some business for me lately. But 
 he wouldn't remember me. But, good heavens ! I 
 won't have any trouble about the identification, 
 Chilton. There is my signature for one thing. For 
 another, there is my letter-file. It contains carbon 
 copies of every letter I have sent to Chester and of 
 every transaction I have had with his bank. I shall 
 take all of those letters with me, of course. They 
 recite the amounts I have sent to the bank from 
 time to time, the dates when they were sent, and all 
 that."
 
 THE BEGINNING OF A FELONY 11 
 
 "Still, Mr. Van Cleve By the way, when do 
 
 you propose to start?" 
 
 "Within the week. To-day is Monday. I shall 
 leave Mexico City by or before Saturday." 
 
 "Might I make a suggestion er relative to your 
 proper identification when you do arrive in New 
 York?" Chilton asked tentatively. 
 
 "Certainly. What is it?" 
 
 "More than likely you will regard it as an en- 
 tirely unnecessary proceeding, but certainly it can 
 do no harm; and it might turn out to your advan- 
 tage, Mr. Van Cleve." 
 
 "Well, let's hear what it is." 
 
 "Just a matter of precaution and er prepara- 
 tion. Go to a photographer and have some pictures 
 made of yourself. Enclose one or two of them 
 with the letter you will write to the new president of 
 the Centropolis Bank, informing him of your ex- 
 pected arrival there. Retain copies of the pictures 
 you send in the letter and carry them with you when 
 you leave here. 
 
 "Have them with you, as well as the letters you 
 have mentioned, when you present yourself at the 
 bank. It is only a suggestion, but you may find 
 it advantageous to be well prepared. New York 
 bankers are sticklers for identifications." 
 
 "It's a good idea, Chilton. I'll do it. Come along 
 with me. I'll attend to it at once. Do you know 
 of a photographer anywhere near here?" 
 
 "There is one on the Second Plateros, two 
 squares down, whose sign I have seen frequently.
 
 12 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 Llorente is his name, I think. Shall we go there 
 now?" 
 
 "Yes. There is no time like the present, Chilton." 
 
 Eulogio Llorente received the two men effusively. 
 Business had been miserably dull with him for many 
 months. He was glad of a customer, and par- 
 ticularly of one so well known and respected in the 
 city of Mexico as the Seiior Van Cleve. 
 
 Several negatives were exposed, front face, pro- 
 file, quarter-view, et cetera. Mr. Van Cleve was 
 told that the proofs would be ready for his inspec- 
 tion the following morning, and he promised to send 
 for them. Then he turned to Chilton as they were 
 about to go out. 
 
 "Why don't you have your picture taken, too, 
 now that we are here?" he asked smilingly. 
 
 "I? Oh, no!" Chilton exclaimed in mock dis- 
 may. "Looking as I do now? Not on your life! 
 It's as much as I can stand to look at myself in a 
 mirror when I have to. But a photograph? To 
 perpetuate this travesty of myself? No, I thank 
 you!" 
 
 "But, really, Chilton, you are quite picturesque 
 in that charo costume." 
 
 "Huh ! Do you suppose I'd wear it if it were not 
 for the impression it makes upon the peons I have 
 to boss? That reminds me: I'm out of a job, I 
 suppose." 
 
 "I am afraid so, Chilton." They were on the 
 street again. "It is rather short notice, isn't it? 
 Come to me to-morrow morning early and I'll settle
 
 THE BEGINNING OF A FELONY , 13 
 
 up with you and I will add three months' salary to 
 your account because of the short notice." 
 
 "Thank you, Mr. Van Cleve. Shall I stop at 
 Llorente's on my way, and bring the proofs to 
 you?" 
 
 "Yes; I wish you would." 
 
 They parted at the corner of Collegio Viego. 
 Chilton remained standing where his employer left 
 him for several moments. Then, turning abruptly, 
 he sought a near-by store that dealt in all sorts of 
 photographic supplies, where he parted with very 
 nearly all the cash he possessed, exchanging it for 
 the paraphernalia he required to carry out his plans. 
 He was quite heavily laden when he came out again 
 and sought the rooms where he lived when he was 
 in the city in the calle San Felipi Neri. But there 
 was a smug smile of satisfaction in his countenance, 
 nevertheless. Chilton had succeeded in purchasing 
 the very things he wanted.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE PLOTTING OF HOLBROOK CHILTON 
 
 An Irishman once explained that to make a can- 
 non you take a hole and surround it with iron. 
 In the city of Mexico residences are built in much 
 the same way; they select a hole and build a house 
 around it. There is one wide entrance from the 
 street, big enough for horses and carriages to pass 
 through. This leads into a patio, or court, from 
 which, after mounting three or four steps to a nar- 
 row balcony which surrounds it, entrance is obtained 
 to the various rooms. If the house is two stories 
 high they are rarely more than that the stairs 
 to the second one are nearly always from the bal- 
 cony in the patio. 
 
 The house in San Felipi Neri Street, where Chil- 
 ton had his two rooms that fronted on the thorough- 
 fare, was two stories high. His rooms were in the 
 upper story. It was there that he took the sup- 
 plies he had purchased immediately after he parted 
 with Van Cleve. Those supplies, when he had re- 
 lieved himself of the burden of them, proved to 
 consist of a very excellent camera, capable of pro- 
 ducing four-and-a-half by five-and-a-half pictures; 
 a tripod, all the paraphernalia and ingredients neces- 
 sary for flash-lights, some carefully selected plates 
 and, in fact, everything that was necessary to carry 
 out the designs that the schemer had in mind. 
 
 14
 
 PLOTTING OF HOLBROOK CHILTON 15 
 
 And it was an evidence of Chilton's quick wit 
 and resourcefulness, of his ingenuity and his dar- 
 ing, that the present "scheme" had not occurred to 
 him even remotely until during that conversation be- 
 tween him and his employer at the latter's office in 
 calle Gante. In fact, not until the question of proper 
 identification when Van Cleve should arrive in New 
 York City came up. Then, with the brilliancy of 
 one of the flash-lights he had just purchased, the 
 idea took possession of him, and he did not lack 
 anything of the necessary effrontery to carry it out, 
 once it had taken tangible form in his mind. Nor 
 did he lose any time after he had locked himself in- 
 side the larger of his two rooms in San Felipi Neri 
 Street. 
 
 Sheets taken from a bureau drawer, tacked 
 against the wall, created a background. The crex 
 rug on the floor was sufficiently like a studio in- 
 terior. The furniture in the room was carefully 
 removed from the vision of the camera. One of 
 his purchases was a sixteen-foot rubber tube, with 
 a bulb at the end, for working the shutter, and 
 that he laid along the floor from the camera and 
 tripod to the point at which he intended to stand. 
 Qose beside the tripod he placed a small table, and 
 upon that he arranged his flash-light, with which 
 he connected a short fuse that would consume ap- 
 proximately half a minute in burning. 
 
 When everything was arranged to his entire sat- 
 isfaction the preparations consumed nearly an 
 hour he took his stand in front of the lens at the 
 proper distance from it and directly facing the
 
 16 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 camera's eye. Chilton wore his sombrero, pushed 
 slightly backward on his head, and his filled cart- 
 ridge-belt and holsters ; and a Mexican saddle rested 
 upon the floor beside him. This last was included 
 in the picture for the sake of offsetting any possi- 
 bility that the rubber tube that connected with the 
 shutter might appear upon the negative. He stood 
 with his hands behind him, and one of them grasped 
 the bulb of the tube. He watched the burning fuse 
 narrowly, and at precisely the instant when the 
 flash came he squeezed it. That process, with ex- 
 actly the same view of himself, he repeated twice. 
 Then he made three more exposures of himself in 
 the same manner, with the difference that he re- 
 moved the sombrero and turned his left profile 
 toward the camera's eye. 
 
 Six exposures in all he made, and he had not a 
 doubt that from the lot there would certainly be 
 one out of each three that would fulfill his wishes ; 
 and because he had found opportunity to observe 
 and measure while he was at the studio of Llorente 
 that afternoon he knew that they would be of the 
 requisite dimensions. 
 
 Simultaneously with the ignition of that last 
 flash-light Chilton plainly heard the sound of car- 
 riage-wheels and hoof -beats on the pavement out- 
 side, and they stopped directly under his window. 
 An inner sense intuitiveness possibly warned 
 him instantly of the bare possibility that his em- 
 ployer, Van Cleve, might be seeking him again, 
 and, without pausing to readjust anything in the 
 room, he passed quickly outside of it upon the bal-
 
 PLOTTING OF HOLBROOK CHILTON 17 
 
 cony that surrounded the patio, closing and locking 
 the door after him and dropping the key into his 
 pocket. 
 
 In all of the older Mexico City houses the rooms 
 do not connect from one to another ; access between 
 them is had only by passing to the balcony, and 
 thence to the room adjoining, as Chilton did then. 
 He stepped quickly into the other one of his two 
 rooms, threw his sombrero upon the bed, dropped 
 his cartridge-belt and the two "forty- fours" be- 
 side it, seated himself upon a chair that faced the 
 window night had fallen before he began his flash- 
 light experiences and was busily engaged in roll- 
 ing himself a cigarette when a quick, distinct rap- 
 ping sounded against the panel of the door. 
 
 "Venga aca!" he called out without turning his 
 head, as if he supposed the summons was made 
 by the mozo de la casa, or the portero. He twisted 
 the cigarette into proper shape and applied a cerillo 
 to it just as the door opened and the voice of Van 
 Cleve greeted him. 
 
 Chilton sprang instantly to his feet with a well- 
 simulated exclamation of surprise. 
 
 "Hello !" he said in feigned astonishment. "You. 
 Mr. Van Cleve? I was just wondering what to 
 do with myself to-night. I am mighty glad you 
 looked me up. Did you forget something that you 
 wished to say to me this afternoon?" 
 
 "No. I came around to ask you to go to dinner 
 with me, if you hadn't already gone which, I per- 
 ceive, you have not," was the smiling response. 
 "Will you come?"
 
 18 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 "Sure." 
 
 "We will go to the Concordia. I don't want 
 anybody to get the idea that I am contemplating a 
 sudden departure from the country. See ?" 
 
 Chilton nodded. 
 
 "I have got some maps and blue-prints in my 
 pocket," Van Cleve continued. "We will pretend 
 to be examining them and discussing them while we 
 wait for our order to be filled at the restaurant, 
 Chilton. That will reassure anybody who happens 
 to be watching us; for I suppose you know that 
 all Americans are observed rather closely just now, 
 particularly those who might take it into their heads 
 to leave the country suddenly and carry a wad of 
 money away with them. So, come along. Oh, by 
 the way " 
 
 "Yes?" Chilton replied. 
 
 "That next room there is yours also, isn't it?" 
 and he jerked his head toward the room from 
 whence the flash-light had shown for an instant as 
 he stepped down from his carriage. 
 
 "It used to be," the manager replied indifferently. 
 "I gave it up before I went away the last time. 
 There was no use in keeping two rooms, you know." 
 
 "Certainly not. Who occupies it now?" 
 
 "I really don't know, Mr. Van Cleve. A young 
 Mexican civil engineer came to look at it the day 
 I gave it up, but I don't know whether he took it 
 or not. Why?" 
 
 "Oh, nothing. There was a flash of light through 
 the window just as I got down from my carriage 
 at the door. I thought it was one of your rooms,
 
 PLOTTING OF HOLBROOK CH1LTON 19 
 
 and when I came in here and discovered you rolling 
 a cigarette I thought the circumstance an odd one. 
 
 "Perhaps the young engineer is making blue- 
 prints," Chilton suggested, donning his sombrero. 
 And Van Cleve was entirely satisfied with that ex- 
 planation, although it was destined that within a 
 few weeks the circumstance was to be recalled to 
 his mind very vividly indeed after his arrival in 
 the city of New York. 
 
 They drove together to the Concordia Restau- 
 rant. They dined together sumptuously. They 
 pored over maps and blue-prints while waiting for 
 their order to be filled. They came away from the 
 restaurant together after eleven o'clock, having 
 spent nearly three hours at table, and they parted at 
 the door, Chilton having insisted upon walking 
 home. 
 
 It was nearly dawn before he sought any rest, 
 for with blankets and many large sheets of orange- 
 colored paper he had to manufacture a "dark-room" 
 in which to develop the negatives he had made, 
 and it came out that one negative out of each 
 three he had taken was very nearly perfect. Thus 
 far Chilton's schemes had prospered. There re- 
 mained the matter of a very small and easy theft 
 to accomplish and some deft sleight-of-hand to be 
 performed and a hint dropped wisely and well, and 
 in the right place, for the purpose of detaining 
 Van Cleve in the City of Mexico longer than he 
 intended and all would be well. Van Cleve, how- 
 ever, was not one to be easily detained anywhere 
 against his will.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 THE INSIDE OF AN ENVELOPE 
 
 Chilton walked into the photographic studio of 
 Eulogio Llorente shortly after nine o'clock the fol- 
 lowing morning and found that the proofs of Van 
 Cleve's pictures were ready for inspection. He 
 examined them attentively. Then he made a re- 
 quest of the photographer to see two of the nega- 
 tives, and while Llorente was absent from the room 
 to procure them Chilton deftly pulled out a drawer 
 from a cabinet and extracted therefrom several 
 blank, cabinet-size cards, which bore Llorente's 
 name and address in letters of gold and which 
 were used for mounting photographs that he had 
 made. These Chilton quickly concealed about his 
 person, and was quietly rolling a cigarette, over by 
 one of the windows, when Llorente returned with 
 the negatives. 
 
 Within a few moments thereafter Chilton arrived 
 at Van Cleve's office and the two men put their 
 heads together in an inspection of the photographic 
 proofs, and it was the general manager who finally 
 made the selection for his employer. That being 
 done, Chilton took the selected proofs back to 
 Llorente, after assuring Van Cleve of two things : 
 That the mounted photographs would be ready for 
 him by two o'clock of the following day (there is 
 
 20
 
 THE INSIDE OF AN ENVELOPE 21 
 
 always bright sunshine in the City of Mexico, so 
 one does not have to consider a possible cloudy 
 day), and that he would return to Van Cleve's of- 
 fice himself late that afternoon to arrange the set- 
 tlement of their mutual affairs and to prepare for 
 Van Cleve's departure from Mexico. 
 
 From Llorente's studio, Chilton sought his own 
 rooms in calle San Felipi Neri, and he made good 
 use of the bright sunshine, too. It is sufficient to 
 say that the product of his efforts was entirely 
 satisfactory to himself, and that after his flash- 
 light pictures were mounted on the cards he had 
 stolen from the studio it is doubtful if the pho- 
 tographer himself could have sworn that they were 
 not of his own make. 
 
 Later, Chilton kept his appointment with Van 
 Cleve, and the settlement of their affairs was con- 
 cluded. At the close of their conference Van Cleve 
 asked : 
 
 "Why don't you go north with me, Chilton ? I'll 
 be glad if you will." 
 
 But Chilton shook his head. 
 
 "No," he replied. "I shall stay here; or, rather, 
 I will hike back to the mountains of Guerrero. 
 There is nothing in the North that calls me, and 
 in the light of your generosity regarding the prop- 
 erties there is much to keep me here." 
 
 At half past four o'clock in the afternoon of the 
 day following Wednesday 1 Chilton carried the 
 mounted photographs of Van Cleve to the office in 
 calle Gante. The contractor-mine-owner was await- 
 ing him and at once exhibited a letter that he had
 
 22 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 dictated and signed. It was addressed to Mr. 
 Bingham Harvard, president of the Centropolis 
 Bank, New York City, and we will quote only the 
 closing paragraph. It said: 
 
 "If all goes well, and I am not delayed by un- 
 foreseen circumstances, I will present myself to 
 you at the Centropolis Bank on Thursday, or pos- 
 sibly Friday, of next week, shortly after noon. I 
 am inclosing with this letter two photographs of my- 
 self that were taken the day before yesterday, and 
 they are very good likenesses, so, if you study them, 
 you will have no difficulty in recognizing me the 
 moment we meet. 
 
 "It is twenty years or more since I last saw 
 you ; you were a small boy then. But I heard much 
 about you on the occasion of my last trip to New 
 York ten years ago, from Mr. Chester. I need not 
 say that he spoke of you with great affection. But, 
 it has occurred to me that Chester, having retired, 
 according to the last report I received from the 
 bank, might be away from home, or something of 
 the sort, and, therefore, the photographs which I 
 inclose. 
 
 "I would be glad if young Tom Clancy, the son 
 and successor of another old friend, could manage 
 to be present at the bank when I call. I have 
 had some business dealings with him, by letter, as 
 you probably know. I have already written to 
 him, asking that he meet me as stated, and have 
 also requested him to prepare and take with him a 
 statement of my account with his firm."
 
 THE INSIDE OF AN ENVELOPE 23 
 
 Chilton had brought with him from Llorente's 
 studio one of the latter's cork-reenforced envelopes, 
 made expressly for mailing photographs, and he 
 passed the envelope to Van Cleve, with the sugges- 
 tion that he address it in his own handwriting. 
 Then, while Van Cleve' s back was turned, while 
 he was bending over the envelope he was address- 
 ing, Chilton took two of his own pictures, that he 
 had made himself, from one of his pockets and 
 replaced them with the two that Van Cleve had 
 selected to send to Bingham Harvard. The two 
 pictures of himself he placed face to face, with Van 
 Cleve's letter to Harvard between them, and he 
 snapped two rubber bands, lengthwise and cross- 
 wise, around them and the instant the envelope 
 was addressed and blotted he reached out for it, 
 slipped the whole arrangement into it, and sealed it. 
 
 Chilton took great chances in that act, for Van 
 Cleve might naturally have desired one more glance 
 at the photographs of himself that he was sending 
 away. But Van Cleve only looked on smilingly, 
 well pleased and satisfied and with no suspicion 
 whatever that there had been an exchange. Never- 
 theless, the pictures of himself which he supposed 
 to be safely enclosed inside of the envelope ad- 
 dressed to New York were at that moment in the 
 inside pocket of Chilton' s charo jacket, and the pic- 
 tures that were really within the Llorente envelope 
 were the photographs of Holbrook Chilton that he 
 had made by flash-light Monday evening. 
 
 The two men walked to the city postoffice to- 
 gether to mail them. Afterward they sought the
 
 24 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 Concordia again, and. while seated at the table Chil- 
 ton remarked quite casually: 
 
 "I think, our business together being concluded, 
 that I will hit the trail for Guerrero in the morning, 
 Mr. Van Cleve. Particularly as I want to take a 
 run down to Puebla first. So, when we part, pres- 
 ently, it will be good-by." 
 
 "I had hoped that you would wait and see me 
 off," Van Cleve replied ; but made no further remon- 
 strance, and an hour later the two parted with each 
 other, presumably forever. 
 
 Van Cleve went to his home, on the Passeo de 
 la Re forma. Chilton sought a neighborhood that 
 is well out toward the shrine of Guadalupe and dis- 
 appeared for a long time within an unsavory-look- 
 ing saloon. When he came out there was a satis- 
 fied smile on his face, and he seemed well pleased 
 with the result of his call. Because of Chilton's 
 visit to that saloon Van Cleve' s departure from 
 Mexico was quite certain to be delayed.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE VALUE OF TWO GOLD PIECES 
 
 The visit that Holbrook Chilton made to the sa- 
 loon in the short and filthy street that was situated 
 a goodly distance between the Zocolo and the Shrine 
 of Guadalupe, called the calle Amarillo (which is 
 the same as saying Yellow Street in English) was 
 not without its definite object, and in some meas- 
 ure that object, despicable as it was in motive, 
 was attained. 
 
 The saloon was in a mere hovel, built of adobe 
 bricks of mud baked to hardness in the Mexican 
 sun. It was innocent of a floor, the hard-trodden 
 earth of tepetate texture and formation answered 
 that purpose. Some rough tables were bestowed 
 about the one room it contained, for the proprietor 
 cooked his food over a charcoal fire that was con- 
 tained in an earthen jar in one corner of that room, 
 and at night rolled himself in a gaudy serape and 
 stretched his body upon a woven grass petate across 
 the doorway. And he had a numerous brood that 
 accommodated themselves in like manner. 
 
 One customer alone patronized the place when 
 Chilton entered it, and he was seated at a table 
 sipping pulque vie jo with the proprietor. But he 
 
 25
 
 26 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 got upon his feet instantly and saluted as did also 
 the other man when Van Cleve's superintendent- 
 manager appeared. Evidently he was expected. 
 
 "You have seen the cargador de la esquina I sent 
 to find you ?" Chilton demanded abruptly. 
 
 "Si, senor." 
 
 Chilton ostentatiously withdrew two gold pieces 
 from one of his pockets and held them for a moment 
 so that the man called Pancho could see them. 
 They were American five-dollar coins, but they 
 represented twice that amount in Mexican money 
 and looked like a fortune in the eyes of the brutal- 
 looking, ragged charo, whose gaze literally glittered 
 at sight of them. 
 
 "These are yours, amigo, if you will do as I di- 
 rect," he said. "I will give them to you now. 
 Then, when the thing is done, there are two more 
 like them which will also be yours. Well?" 
 
 "They are mine already, senor" was the quiet 
 response. 
 
 "Good. I supposed as much." 
 
 (The conversation was, of course, entirely in 
 Spanish.) 
 
 "It is to do what, senor?" Pancho asked softly. 
 "Somebody a man, no? is in the way of the 
 senor and is to be removed? Yes? A senorita 
 has attracted the senor' s eye and is to be carried into 
 the mountains? No? Yes? It is the same to 
 Pancho. It is done." 
 
 "It is the Senor Van Cleve," Chilton replied 
 shortly. "You know him. You worked for him. 
 He caught you doing ladrone's work. You stole.
 
 VALUE OF TWO GOLD PIECES 27 
 
 He struck you and sent you away. You hate him. 
 No?" 
 
 "Si, senor; I hate him. Bien?" Pancho's eyes 
 glittered fiercely when he made that reply. 
 
 Chilton put the gold pieces upon the table be- 
 tween them. Pancho let them lie nor offered yet to 
 take them up. 
 
 "He is to be killed?" he asked softly. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "When, senor? Where?" There was no hesita- 
 tion in the question, no suggestion of negation. 
 
 "When you will, so that it be soon enough." 
 
 "Bien. Tell me more, seiior." 
 
 "Van Cleve thinks to go away from Mexico. He 
 must not go away. He must remain here and be 
 buried." 
 
 "Estd bien, senor'' was the calm reply, which, 
 being translated, means : "It is well, sir." 
 
 "He plans to go away by Friday or Saturday 
 or at the latest, Monday. He must not go." 
 
 "Senor Van Cleve will not go away from Mex- 
 ico," Pancho stated immovably. 
 
 "Do you know where and how to find him so 
 that it can be done, Pancho?" 
 
 "Si, senor. I have watched. Some day it should 
 have been done without the bestowal of these coins 
 for myself. You but hasten matters. Bueno." 
 
 "At his office in the calle Gante, or in the street 
 at night, Pancho. It will be all the same to me. 
 You throw the knife superbly, and see! I have 
 brought you a new one, just purchased, so that 
 when it is found in his body and plucked from it
 
 there will be no recognizing it as your property. 
 Inteiende ustedf" 
 
 "Si, senor; y mil gracias, tambien." 
 
 "It is a good one, Pancho. I have seen you 
 throw one like it as much as thirty feet and put the 
 point through a piece of paper an inch square. Can 
 you still do that?" 
 
 "As well as ever, senor." 
 
 "Do you need further instruction, Pancho?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "It must be done before he leaves Mexico City 
 I do not care when nor where nor how." 
 
 "I understand, senor." 
 
 "Remember, he may start away next Friday 
 morning; so before that, if possible." 
 
 "I have not forgotten. Now, senor, what of the 
 remaining two gold pieces? Does the senor intend 
 also to go away?" 
 
 "No. Not yet. Not for weeks to come," Chilton 
 lied calmly. "The other two gold pieces we will 
 make it three will be ready for you as soon as the 
 work is done." 
 
 "Esta bien, senor; else " The pause was 
 
 significant. 
 
 "Else there may be another knife of the same 
 sort reserved for me, eh ? Oh, I know you, Pancho. 
 When have I failed in a promise to you?" 
 
 "Never, senor." 
 
 "Not this time, either," Chilton answered, smil- 
 ing, and rose from the table. But he threw a silver 
 dollar upon it in front of the proprietor, who had 
 listened to the conversation unmoved. "Drink that
 
 VALUE OF TWO GOLD PIECES 29 
 
 up to my good health," he said : and then, dropping 
 another one beside it, he added : "And bestow that 
 one upon the scnora and the ninos." 
 
 Then, without another word or glance, he turned 
 his back upon them and went out. Chilton being 
 gone, Pancho bent forward half across the table, 
 somber-eyed. 
 
 "You heard, Sus ?" he asked quietly. 
 
 "Si. I heard." 
 
 "Don Hola" (hVwas the name by which he spoke 
 of Chilton) "lied to me." 
 
 The proprietor of the cantina nodded compre- 
 hendingly. It was apparent that he thought so, 
 too. 
 
 "There will be no more pieces of gold." 
 
 "No." 
 
 "He will go away, also." 
 
 "Yes. That is evident." 
 
 "So there will be no killing. Why should there 
 be? Why should I risk Belem and the bullets of 
 the executioners?" 
 
 "Why, indeed?" 
 
 "But I will earn these two gold pieces if not 
 the others, aniigo." 
 
 "But how, then, Pancho ?" 
 
 "Senor Van Cleve shall be detained, not killed. 
 He may go away Monday, perhaps, or Tuesday or 
 afterward ; but not Friday or Saturday. So will I 
 keep my faith. But if Don Hola had given me the 
 four pieces it would have been better, for then I 
 would have done as he desired. I would have 
 thrown the knife. Look!"
 
 30 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 He picked up the knife which Chilton had left 
 upon the table, poised it for an instant in one hand, 
 and said : 
 
 "See! The letter 'O' in the sign over the bar." 
 
 Then he threw it from him, and exactly in the 
 middle of that letter "O" it struck, point first, and 
 held there, deeply imbedded, quivering like a live 
 thing. There was more pulque vie jo after that; 
 many copas. Some tequila, which is stronger than 
 absinthe and quite as deadly, followed. Other men 
 entered the place and were invited to drink but 
 no mention was made again of the visit of Chilton 
 to the cantina. And the knife he had given to 
 Pancho was concealed in the clothing of that enter- 
 prising person. 
 
 So, hours later, he went outside and betook him- 
 self to the plaza of the Zocolo, and thence to the 
 corner of San Francisco and Gante streets, and 
 again thence to the curb opposite the windows across 
 the street, through which the head and shoulders of 
 Anderson Van Cleve could be seen as he bent over 
 his desk. Pancho, the discharged employee and 
 Holbrook Chilton's tool, was studying the ground 
 and making ready to keep faith with Chilton as 
 far as the two gold pieces would go.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE KNIFE-THROWER 
 
 Anderson Van Cleve, when he had finally ar- 
 ranged his affairs sufficiently to his own satisfac- 
 tion so that he was prepared to leave Mexico never 
 to return to it, strode through the main thorough- 
 fare of that city from the bronze "caballito" at the 
 entrance to the Passeo de la Re forma to the city 
 palace just across the plaza at the Zoloco, looking 
 in for a moment at places he had been wont to 
 frequent during his long residence there, and paus- 
 ing at times, undecided where to go next. For he 
 was not leaving the City of Mexico, beautiful in 
 many ways then, without deep regret. He had 
 lived there too long a time for that, and many of 
 the ties had become very strong indeed. But the 
 prophetic eyes of the man could see, he believed, far 
 into the future. 
 
 He believed that the tranquillity of the moment 
 was only on the surface in that country; that be- 
 neath it a volcano of strife was ready to burst 
 into eruption at any moment, and that he would be 
 better, far better, away from it. Once he would 
 have elected to remain but that was when he was 
 younger. Now the years were beginning to sug- 
 gest their weight to his energies, and he knew that 
 it was better to go. If Porfirio Diaz had remained, 
 31
 
 32 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 he would have stayed also; but Diaz was gone. 
 True, Van Cleve sacrificed much in making such 
 a hurried departure a fortune, in fact. But, he 
 argued, there was enough besides to serve him 
 bountifully for the rest of his life. 
 
 The Centropolis Bank was not the only one in the 
 North to which he had been forwarding funds dur- 
 ing the latter years of his stay. There were others, 
 and he owned property in various places ; he had 
 many investments; he owned U. S. government 
 bonds to a considerable extent and, in short, he 
 had no fears for the future, notwithstanding his 
 present sacrifice. 
 
 In the middle of the Zocolo, near the music- 
 stand, he remained for a long time. Night had 
 fallen, although it was still early ; but lights gleamed 
 out everywhere when he turned to retrace his steps. 
 He stopped for a moment to chat with a friend 
 in front of the Iturbide Hotel. He looked in at an 
 office at the Plazuela de Guardiola, to take a last 
 glance at another acquaintance for he did not 
 mean to say good-by to anybody. It was a part of 
 his present policy to tell nobody of his going away. 
 
 He strode onward presently into the Avenida 
 Juarez, and thence turned into the Alameda, where, 
 being a bit tired by his long walk, he sat down upon 
 one of the benches. The huge trees of cypress 
 would have rendered it intensely dark in there but 
 for the somewhat infrequent arc-lights that were 
 along the paths. They dispelled a part of the gloom. 
 Nevertheless, just where he had seated himself the 
 trees hung downward all around him, and he no-
 
 THE KNIFE-THROWER 33 
 
 ticed that few people were in sight mostly peons, 
 or cargadores. The Alameda was as deserted as 
 it ever was. He was quite alone, in fact, but it 
 suited him to be so. 
 
 He had no idea that he would experience such 
 regret when the time came to go away. He was 
 remembering that Mexico had been his home for a 
 good many years. It was Friday night then. He 
 was prepared to leave the city the following morn- 
 ing. Nobody would suspect his real destination, for 
 he had been in the habit of making frequent excur- 
 sions out of the city during all the years he had 
 been there and he had taken his ticket for only a 
 part of the way to the border. He would purchase 
 another when it was required. Holbrook Chilton, 
 he supposed, had returned to Guerrero ; to the prop- 
 erties that he had bestowed upon the man as a free 
 gift since he could no longer develop them. At 
 all events, Chilton had left the city. 
 
 While he sat there on the bench, a charo a 
 mountaineer, in other words paused in passing, 
 and spoke to him deferentially in Spanish. 
 
 "You remember me, senor?" he asked, showing 
 his teeth. 
 
 "Yes. You are Pancho, who worked for me. 
 What do you want, hombre?" 
 
 "To speak to you, senor. To ask that you will 
 employ me again." 
 
 "Never. You stole. You are a ladrone. Go 
 away." 
 
 "But, senor " 
 
 "Well?"
 
 84 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 "I am poor very poor. I have no money to 
 buy food. I need work; and I will be honest." 
 
 Had Van Cleve but known it and consented to 
 employ the man again, Pancho would have passed 
 on, and nothing would have happened that night. 
 Such was Pancho's intention, for he believed that 
 the work of his former employer would still go 
 ahead, even though the man himself should de- 
 part. And Pancho would have kept the two gold 
 pieces and still not have kept even part faith with 
 Chilton; for Pancho was wise, and had watched 
 Chilton, and he knew that the man who had given 
 the gold to him was already gone from Mexico. 
 But the senor said no, again, with emphasis. Still, 
 he took a handful of silver from one of his pock- 
 ets and gave it to Pancho, saying : 
 
 "Take this, then, and buy food. But I cannot 
 employ you again." 
 
 "But the senor will need me while he is gone 
 away from Mexico," Pancho said placidly, accept- 
 ing the money nevertheless, and with ten thousand 
 thanks in three words. 
 
 Van Qeve started to his feet, surprised. How 
 could this man know of his intended departure? 
 Nobody but Holbrook Chilton had been informed 
 of it. 
 
 "Why do you say that ?" he demanded sharply. 
 
 "Because the fact is known to me, senor. You 
 go to-morrow, perhaps? No?" 
 
 Van Cleve was impatient, and he was angry, too. 
 He was accustomed to handling his peons and charos 
 roughly. And this particular one he disliked in-
 
 THE KNIFE-THROWER 
 
 tensely. So he did the natural thing to do under 
 the circumstances the thing that years of experi- 
 ence with such men in that country had forced him 
 to do : he swept his right hand and arm around, not 
 exactly in a blow, but in something very like one, 
 and it would have fallen upon Pancho and shoved 
 him roughly aside, had it touched him; but Pancho 
 sprang backward out of its reach. And then he 
 turned, but not until he had made several of those 
 agile leaps to attain a greater distance. When he 
 did turn, something gleamed brightly in his hand, 
 and Van Cleve knew what it was, and exactly what 
 Pancho intended to do with it. He knew, more- 
 over, that he could not dodge the thrown knife in 
 time to avoid it when it should be cast at him. So 
 he leaped directly toward it. Another man would 
 have been killed. Van Cleve was not, for he knew 
 the expertness of knife-throwers. 
 
 Such weapons turn in the air while speeding 
 toward a target. Had Van Cleve remained where 
 he was the point of it would have found him. As 
 it was, he met the missile several feet in advance 
 of where he had stood when it left the hand of 
 Pancho, even though he stumbled when he jumped. 
 Falling forward as he did, his head was lowered 
 to the level of his own breast had he been standing 
 upright, and the thrown knife struck him, hilt fore- 
 most, squarely upon the forehead. It was a heavily- 
 hilted weapon, made for throwing purposes, and 
 Van Cleve fell face downward in the path, stunned, 
 insensible. 
 
 And Pancho?
 
 36 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 That faith-keeping assassin turned about and fled 
 even as the knife left the grip of his finger-tips 
 and before it had made the first turn in the air; 
 and never having been in the habit of missing his 
 mark, it is doubtful if Pancho believed he had done 
 so then. No doubt, as he fled away, he thought of 
 the knife-blade imbedded in the heart of his former 
 employer, for he had not stayed to see whether it 
 was the point or the hilt of the weapon that struck 
 its intended victim. 
 
 Ten minutes later two gentlemen who were cross- 
 ing the Alameda toward Buena Vista discovered 
 Van Cleve and the knife beside him. They sum- 
 moned a policeman from the Avenida Juarez, and 
 the stricken American, still unconscious, was taken 
 to the American Hospital. Van Cleve might still 
 have begun his journey north the following morn- 
 ing if that policeman had not been summoned to 
 the scene of the attack upon him, but the devious 
 ways of some forms of Mexican justice are peculiar 
 and arbitrary. He was notified in due form that 
 he must appear before a certain court on Monday, 
 at noon, which was hours after train time, and 
 there was no help for it. He had to wait. To 
 attempt to get away before Tuesday, under the 
 circumstances, then, would have been fatal to his 
 plans. So he waited. And Chilton had his way 
 after all. Van Cleve was delayed considerably 
 beyond the time he had appointed for his departure. 
 Nevertheless, he was not buried in Mexico, as his 
 general manager had planned. Pancho slept, that 
 Monday night, in Belem prison.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 CHILTON'S UNSPEAKABLE CLEVERNESS 
 
 Bingham Harvard let his eyes dwell for a mo- 
 ment upon the card that had just been given to 
 him before he raised them and directed that its 
 owner be conducted to the private office at once. 
 It was not an engraved card, but a written one. 
 It bore the characteristic and unmistakable signa- 
 ture of Anderson Van Cleve. The man whom we 
 know as Holbrook Chilton entered, halted just in- 
 side the doorway, and then stepped briskly for- 
 ward with extended hand. 
 
 "You are Bingham Harvard," he said in his 
 strangely mellow voice when the proffered hand- 
 clasp was accepted. "My, my! You were a little 
 boy when I last saw you; but, really, I almost be- 
 lieve that I would have known you at that. Some 
 of us change very little with the passing years." 
 Then he laughed aloud and added : "I am the ex- 
 ception that proves the rule, I reckon. Years of ex- 
 posure to sun and wind have left their stamp 
 eh?" 
 
 "I am delighted to see you, Mr. Van Cleve," 
 Harvard replied, indicating a chair, and relapsing 
 upon his own at the desk. "You are certainly tanned 
 and browned, and a bit grizzled, sir; but for all 
 that you do not look your years. You see, I know 
 
 37
 
 38 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 your age. Mr. Chester has spoken of you to me 
 very often indeed." 
 
 "Sixty-five. my next birthday." 
 
 "Surely ? One would never guess it, or even sup- 
 pose it." 
 
 "Did you receive my last letter, with the photo- 
 graphs?" Chilton asked. 
 
 "Yes. In the first delivery, Tuesday morning. 
 This is Thursday; the day you thought you might 
 arrive. I was anticipating your coming, Mr. Van 
 Cleve." 
 
 "Good. I am glad that I got here on time," the 
 supposed Van Cleve replied as Harvard pressed a 
 button beneath the edge of his desk. "How is 
 Chester, and where is he?" 
 
 Harvard's secretary appeared in the doorway of 
 an adjoining room. 
 
 "Telephone to Mr. Clancy that Mr. Van Cleve is 
 here," he directed. Then: "Mr. Chester is in 
 Egypt ; somewhere on the Nile, I believe. He won't 
 return to New York for six months, or more." 
 
 "To be sure. I remember, now, that I saw an 
 announcement to that effect in a file of the New 
 York papers at the Anglo-American Club in Mexico. 
 In fact, that was one reason why I sent the photo- 
 graphs. I was afraid that I might have some diffi- 
 culty in identifying myself." 
 
 "I don't think there would have been any diffi- 
 culty about that, Mr. Van Cleve," Harvard replied 
 smilingly. "Your signature the ink is barely dry 
 on the card you wrote to send in to me would have 
 sufficed, under the circumstances ; and there must be
 
 CHILTON'S CLEVERNESS 39 
 
 many of your old friends in the city who would 
 remember you. However, the photographs render 
 that expedient unnecessary." 
 
 Harvard reached out his hand and took the 
 Llorente envelope containing the pictures from a 
 wide pigeonhole of the desk. Then he smiled 
 broadly and said : 
 
 "I have been wondering if you would appear here 
 in that costume. It would have created quite a 
 sensation among the clerks in the bank had you done 
 so." 
 
 The pseudo Van Cleve laughed aloud and 
 heartily. 
 
 "Hardly that," he said. "I had just come in from 
 the mountains, and it struck my fancy to have the 
 photographs made, just as I stood. You see, there 
 are two reasons why I dress in that fashion down 
 there. One is that it is very much more comfort- 
 able for mountain work than any other ; the second 
 is that it gives one a certain prestige over the peons 
 one employs." 
 
 Harvard returned the photographs to the en- 
 velope and replaced them in the pigeon-hole from 
 which he had taken it. Chilton, observing closely, 
 noticed that the letter that had been sent with the 
 pictures was still there. 
 
 "Is there anything that I can do for you before 
 the bank closes, Mr. Van Geve?" Harvard asked 
 as he swung his chair around again. "Do you 
 wish to draw any money to-day?" 
 
 "Well, yes, Mr. Harvard, I do. Oddly enough, 
 as it happens, I wish to draw a considerable part
 
 40 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 of it. But I have no intention of withdrawing 
 my account from the Centropolis Bank, understand. 
 In fact, before the expiration of another thirty days 
 I shall be carrying a much larger balance with you 
 than now." 
 
 "Draw whatsoever you require, Mr. Van Cleve. 
 Our charter is a very old one, granted in the days 
 when New York City was young. It requires that 
 only two hundred and fifty dollars shall be main- 
 tained as a balance." 
 
 "Oh, I shall leave much more than that with you. 
 The fact is, I am investing nearly half a million in 
 an enterprise which has interested me for more than 
 a year. I already have a hundred and fifty thou- 
 sand in it; and well, my idea is to obtain the con- 
 trol. In fact, that is one of the reasons why I de- 
 termined to pull up stakes in Mexico, even though 
 I sustained a considerable loss in doing so." 
 
 Harvard nodded comprehendingly. 
 
 "I have brought with me," the pseudo Van Cleve 
 continued, lying glibly, and with a winning smile of 
 which he was a past master, "Chester's letter to me 
 in Mexico, and also the carbon copies of my letters 
 to him, in which the amounts of my various de- 
 posits, and the dates thereof, are clearly stated. I 
 can show you those if you require any further iden- 
 tification." 
 
 "I don't think they are necessary, Mr. Van Cleve. 
 However have you brought them here with you ?" 
 
 "No. They are with my baggage at the hotel; 
 but" rising and reaching for his hat "I can easily 
 get them and bring them to you."
 
 CHILTON'S CLEVERNESS 41 
 
 As a matter of fact, Chilton did not have the let- 
 ters and carbon copies with him. He had been 
 afraid to filch them from Van Cleve's letter-files in 
 Mexico lest the contractor should discover their loss 
 and telegraph to the bank concerning it. 
 
 "That will be entirely unnecessary, Mr. Van 
 Cleve," Harvard interposed and the man from 
 Mexico resumed his seat, greatly relieved. 
 
 It had been a dangerous bluff to play, but it had 
 worked. "Did you bring one of the small check- 
 books with you, or shall I " Harvard inquired. 
 
 "Yes. I have one of the small ones that you for- 
 warded, with my name printed on each check. 
 Thank you." 
 
 He hitched his chair forward. Harvard pulled 
 out the desk-slide, dipped a pen and handed it to his 
 companion as the latter drew the small checkbook 
 from an inner pocket. Then Chilton consulted a 
 notebook which he took from his waistcoat pocket. 
 
 "Just what do you make my balance, Mr. Har- 
 vard?" he asked, pausing with the pen suspended 
 over the checkbook. 
 
 Harvard consulted a memorandum on his desk 
 which he had caused to be prepared in anticipation 
 of that question. 
 
 "Three hundred and sixty-four thousand, one 
 hundred and eighty-two dollars," he replied. "And 
 here are the vouchers for the few drafts you have 
 made upon us, from Mexico, from time to time since 
 you opened the account." 
 
 "Correct. Thank you." 
 
 He wrote rapidly upon the check, finally affixing
 
 the signature of Anderson Van Cleve at the bottom 
 of it with a freehand flourish that would have 
 astonished Bingham Harvard beyond words had he 
 suspected for an instant that the man was not Van 
 Cleve at all. 
 
 "I have drawn the check for three hundred and 
 fifty thousand, five hundred," he said, tearing it 
 from the book and holding it up for Harvard's in- 
 spection. Then he laid a blotter upon it, remark- 
 ing casually as he did so: "The three-fifty is for 
 that investment and for reasons of my own I 
 prefer to use cash and the five hundred is for 
 pocket money. The amount will not inconvenience 
 you, I hope, at this late hour in the day? It is after 
 two, now." 
 
 "Not at all, Mr. Van Cleve." Harvard pressed a 
 button beneath his desk. "How will you have it?" 
 he asked. 
 
 "In one-hundred-dollar bills as far as they will 
 go that is, to the extent of as many of that denom- 
 ination as you can spare. The balance in five hun- 
 dreds and thousands except that five hundred dol- 
 lars for pocket money. I would like a few tens and 
 twenties." 
 
 Harvard made some rapid memoranda on a pad 
 and passed it to the man who had answered his 
 summons. Then, as the man departed with the 
 properly endorsed check upon which the president of 
 the bank had placed his O. K., he remarked: 
 
 "That will make quite a bulky package, Mr. Van 
 Cleve." 
 
 "Oh, no ; not particularly. A package of a him-
 
 CHILTON'S CLEVERNESS 43 
 
 dred bills is only five-sixteenths of an inch thick. 
 They are a trifle less than seven and a half inches 
 long, and a trifle more than three inches wide. So, 
 you see, if they were all one-hundreds, and were 
 stacked, three packages in a row, my bundle would 
 be, approximately, five by eight by nine inches. 
 That isn't very large." 
 
 "No; but it is a dangerous kind of a package to 
 carry around the streets of New York." 
 
 "Oh, I won't carry it very long, nor far. I have 
 an appointment with the men who are interested 
 with me at six o'clock after banking hours. That 
 is why I wanted the cash. And I am accustomed to 
 taking care of myself." 
 
 "I suppose so. I would like to have a good talk 
 with you about Mexico, sometime. When could you 
 dine with me? To-morrow evening, say?" Har- 
 vard produced a card which bore his address. 
 "Mrs. Harvard will be glad to meet such an old 
 friend of Mr. Chester's. Will you come?" 
 
 "Thank you. Certainly. I will call here and go 
 home with you after banking hours if that is agree- 
 able." 
 
 "Fine. Just the thing. Ah, here comes your 
 cash. Mr. Blake" to the man who brought in the 
 money "give Mr. Van Cleve the five hundred in 
 smaller bills, then make a neat package of the rest 
 of it." Then to Chilton: "You will still have a 
 balance with us of $13,682, Mr. Van Cleve. Here 
 is Tom Clancy, now. Hello Tom. How are you ?" 
 
 "Bully, thank you, Bing. And this, I suppose, is 
 the returned Mexican bandit. How do you do, Mr.
 
 44 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 Van Cleve? Harvard has showed me your photo- 
 graph, so I recognized you at once, notwithstanding 
 the change in costume. My dear old dad used to 
 talk about you a great deal." 
 
 "That is pleasant to hear, Mr. Clancy. A man 
 likes to be remembered by his old friends." 
 
 "Oh, call me Tom. Everybody does; and you 
 knew me when I was a kid. By the way, I have 
 brought that statement with me that your letter 
 asked for. Here it is. My firm holds to your 
 credit exactly thirty-six thousand dollars, as you 
 will see. Shall I write you a check for it now?" 
 
 "Oh, no, thank you. I will call at your office in 
 the morning and do the thing in proper business 
 shape." 
 
 Blake entered and gave Van Cleve the package 
 of money at that moment, and he left his chair. 
 
 "I will look in on you some time in the forenoon 
 to-morrow, Mr. Harvard." he said, reaching out his 
 hand. "And I'll call upon you, Mr. Clancy, at ten 
 in the morning. But I must be going now." 
 
 "I will ask Tom to dine with us to-morrow eve- 
 ning, Mr. Van Cleve," Harvard said, rising. 
 "Now, step outside with me and I will introduce 
 you to the cashier and to the tellers. They already 
 know your signature." 
 
 Chilton, as the supposed Van Cleve, with the 
 well- wrapped package of bills held tightly beneath 
 his left arm, halted while his hand was outstretched 
 to pull open the swing-gate in the brass rail that 
 guarded the president's slightly elevated and outer 
 office. Then he turned slowly around again. Har-
 
 CHILTON'S CLEVERNESS 45 
 
 vard, noticing his hesitancy, paused also. The 
 pseudo Van Cleve appeared to consider a question 
 that had occurred to him. Then, as if he had 
 satisfactorily determined the point, he crossed the 
 inclosure again to Harvard's desk and put down the 
 package of money upon it. And deliberately, still 
 in utter silence, he began to remove the wrappings. 
 
 "Is anything wrong, Mr. Van Cleve?" Harvard 
 inquired. 
 
 The man from Mexico did not reply until the 
 paper-strapped packets of bills were exposed; and 
 even then he counted out several of them and laid 
 them aside before he spoke. 
 
 "On second thought," he announced slowly, "I 
 think I will not require all of this cash to-day. 
 Possibly I can make a dicker so that I will not need 
 it at all and I would very much prefer to maintain 
 a larger balance with you than I have left just 
 now." 
 
 He picked up the packets that he had laid aside 
 and put them into Harvard's hands. 
 
 "There's a hundred thousand there," he said. "I 
 wish you would restore it to my account. I can 
 draw it later on if I should need it but I hardly 
 think I will; and he began at once to rewrap the 
 remaining packets while Harvard busied himself in 
 making out the necessary deposit-slip. 
 
 "We will pass the hundred thousand in at the 
 window when I introduce you to the receiving 
 teller, Mr. Van Cleve," Harvard said. A moment 
 later, after again assuring Tom Clancy that he 
 would call upon him in the morning, the impostor
 
 46 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 followed the young bank president down the few 
 steps to the main floor of the institution. Then, 
 when he had been properly presented to the cashier 
 and to the receiving teller, with whom was left the 
 hundred thousand dollars deposit, and to the pay- 
 ing tellers, he once more shook hands with Bingham 
 Harvard and passed outside. He had drawn from 
 the bank two hundred and fifty thousand five hun- 
 dred dollars in cash, and there still remained one 
 hundred and thirteen thousand six hundred and 
 eighty-two dollars to the credit of Anderson Van 
 Cleve. , 
 
 At precisely ten o'clock the following morning 
 the pseudo Van Cleve walked into the offices of 
 Clancy & Co., and found Tom awaiting his arrival, 
 with the check already made out and signed. The 
 two men chatted amiably together for nearly half 
 an hour, and then went across the street to Clancy's 
 bank, where the supposed Van Cleve was properly 
 identified, and drew the thirty-six thousand dollars 
 that the check called for. 
 
 At eleven o'clock he entered the Centropolis Bank 
 and stopped before the window of the paying teller. 
 
 "You remember me, of course, Mr. Mordaunt?" 
 he inquired, and handed in two checks. 
 
 One was for an even hundred thousand dollars ; 
 the other called for ten thousand five hundred ; and 
 there was a penciled slip with them which explained 
 exactly how he wanted the money. He waited with 
 exemplary patience while it was prepared for him, 
 thanked the teller when he received it, bestowed it
 
 CHILTON'S CLEVERNESS 47 
 
 in various places about his person, nodded again to 
 Mordaunt, stepped away from the window and con- 
 tinued through the bank to the president's office. 
 Bingham Harvard rose to receive him with a cor- 
 dial greeting. 
 
 "I am afraid," the impostor announced after 
 greetings had been exchanged, "that I must disap- 
 point you about that dinner engagement for to- 
 night, Mr. Harvard. The fact is, things did not 
 go through as expeditiously as I anticipated yester- 
 day. But we are to have another session to-night, 
 and, possibly, still another one to-morrow. But, 
 later " 
 
 "Then why not come to us on Sunday, Mr. Van 
 Cleve?" Harvard interposed. "To-day is Friday. 
 Shall we say Sunday, at four?" 
 
 "I shall be delighted, of course if Mrs. Harvard 
 will overlook my remissness of this evening." 
 
 Harvard was assuring him that there could be no 
 doubt on that point when one of the clerks entered 
 and said something to him in a low tone. 
 
 "Excuse me just a moment, Mr. Van Cleve," he 
 said, rising ; and he passed outside to the floor of the 
 bank to attend to some detail that required his per- 
 sonal supervision. 
 
 Chilton was, of course, left entirely alone in the 
 president's office. He was seated quite close to 
 Harvard's desk, near the end that was toward the 
 bank, and Harvard's temporary absence gave the 
 impostor the very opportunity he had wished for, 
 which he had feared might not occur, but which he
 
 48 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 had been resolved to wait and watch for as long as it 
 might be discreet on his part to do so. 
 
 The two photographs of himself were still con- 
 tained in the Llorente envelope, in the wide pigeon- 
 hole of Bingham Harvard's desk, he knew. Yester- 
 day, late in the afternoon, he had seen the young 
 bank president restore them to that receptacle. They 
 were within reach of his hand when Harvard left 
 him alone beside the desk, and he did not hesitate. 
 He flashed a quick and comprehensive glance toward 
 the bank floor, then reached out for the envelope 
 and drew it quickly toward him. It required only 
 an instant to make the change and substitution that 
 he had determined upon if the opportunity should 
 occur, and to restore the Llorente envelope, with its 
 contents apparently undisturbed, to its place in the 
 pigeon-hole of the desk. Then he leaned backward 
 in his chair and was occupied in lighting a cigar 
 when Harvard returned. 
 
 Chilton rose to depart a moment later. 
 
 "You are busy, and I will not occupy your time 
 needlessly, Mr. Harvard," he said ; "and probably I 
 will not see you again until Sunday afternoon, at 
 four. I came, in fact, merely to make another draft 
 on my balance here, for I found that after all I 
 needed some additional cash to carry through that 
 deal properly. Shall I have the pleasure of meet- 
 ing Mr. Clancy, too, on Sunday, as would have been 
 the case to-night?" 
 
 "Assuredly Tom will be there," Harvard replied. 
 
 "Then I shall look forward to dining with you 
 Sunday afternoon with additional pleasure. My
 
 CHILTON'S CLEVERNESS 49 
 
 only regret is that Mr. Chester is not to be present 
 also. It is unfortunate that he should be abroad 
 at just this time. Well, Mr. Harvard, until 
 then " 
 
 Holbrook Chilton, the impostor, passed deliber- 
 ately through the bank to the street. Much that 
 remained of the banking hours of that Friday Chil- 
 ton employed in what appeared to be an aimless 
 wandering through the streets of the city. But, in 
 fact, there was nothing aimless about his conduct. 
 Quite the contrary. He entered every bank he 
 could find and sought the teller's window in each 
 one; and there he inevitably changed a thousand- 
 dollar bill two of them, or three, in many places 
 into bills of smaller denominations. 
 
 Just before three o'clock that same afternoon he 
 paid his bill at the hotel, engaged a taxi to take 
 him to the Grand Central Station, purchased a ticket 
 there for Chicago, secured a stateroom in a Pull- 
 man, and went aboard the train. People who saw 
 him and noticed him and it afterward developed 
 that there were many such recalled each of these 
 incidents ; and also the fact that he had carried two 
 satchels, one of them being quite small. Neither 
 the Pullman conductor nor the porter of the car 
 could tell when or where he left the Chicago train, 
 save only that he must have done so some time 
 during the night. 
 
 In the stateroom he had occupied the larger of 
 the two satchels he had carried remained. Inside 
 of it was the suit of clothes he had worn when he 
 boarded the train in New York, and also the hat,
 
 50 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 shirt, tie, collar, and even the tan shoes. The 
 smaller of the two bags was not there. Neither 
 was there the slightest clue of any kind. Not a 
 shred of lint; not a hair, nor a button, nor the 
 stump of a cigar, nor a cigarette-butt, nor a scrap 
 of paper. Moreover, a heap of soiled towels dem- 
 onstrated that he had carefully wiped off any pos- 
 sible finger-prints that might have been left upon 
 the windows or the furniture of the stateroom. 
 The berth had not been slept in. All that the 
 porter could disclose was that the gentleman had 
 retired as soon as he returned from the dining-car 
 and was not seen afterward. But even that much 
 information was not forthcoming until several days 
 later. 
 
 Then at eleven o'clock of the day following 
 Saturday Anderson Van Cleve himself, in proper 
 person, walked in at the door of the Cntropolis 
 Bank and sent his card to the president.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE OTHER MAN FROM MEXICO 
 
 There are sensations, and sensations. The one 
 experienced by Bingham Harvard when the real 
 Anderson Van Cleve's card was -put before him 
 defies description. Intuitively he perceived at that 
 instant, before he had so much as had a glance at 
 the owner of the card, that he had been the victim 
 of a malicious hoax. A sixth sense within him told 
 him at once that the other man to whom he had 
 paid the money had been an impostor. The card 
 was not a written one, as the other had been, bear- 
 ing the signature of the man who had sent it in; it 
 was a properly engraved card, and Van Cleve's ad- 
 dress in the City of Mexico was announced in 
 smaller letters in one corner of it. 
 
 The clerk who took the card to Harvard stood 
 waiting, but it was nearly half a minute before the 
 young bank president recovered from the shock of 
 the sudden revelation and directed that the gentle- 
 man be admitted to the private office. There was an 
 interval of only a few seconds until Van Cleve ap- 
 peared; but Bingham Harvard, even in his strenu- 
 ous "Night Wind" days * had never thought so rap- 
 
 * See "Alias the Night Wind" and "The Return of the 
 Night Wind." 
 
 51
 
 52 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 idly nor so intensely as he did during that brief 
 interval. 
 
 Then Anderson Van Cleve came into the room. 
 Harvard rose from his chair to greet him and 
 wondered inwardly as he did so how he could have 
 been deceived even for a moment, by that other 
 man. Twenty years and more had elapsed since he 
 had looked upon the face of Anderson Van Cleve, 
 and he had been a mere boy when that happened; 
 but as he looked upon it again, at the present mo- 
 ment, he recalled it distinctly and perfectly. The 
 sight of it unlocked the door of the particular brain- 
 cell of memory where it had been stored away since 
 Harvard's childhood, and in that instant, as he 
 shook hands with his caller, he remembered even the 
 circumstances of their last meeting. 
 
 "Do you remember me, Bingham?" Mr. Van 
 Cleve inquired in his soft, quiet tones, and in a man- 
 ner that was perfectly at ease. 
 
 "Perfectly now that you stand face to face 
 with me. But I had forgotten you entirely until 
 you crossed that threshold," Harvard replied, pull- 
 ing forward a chair for his guest. 
 
 Van Cleve replied : 
 
 "I was afraid that you might have forgotten me 
 you were only a lad when I last saw you, you 
 know and I surmised, because you had become 
 president of the bank and your foster father had 
 retired from active participation in its affairs, that 
 he might be absent when I arrived. Hence the pho- 
 tographs that I sent to you. You received them, 
 of course?"
 
 THE OTHER MAN FROM MEXICO 53 
 
 Harvard hesitated, then nodded his head. Then, 
 as entire frankness and truthfulness was his rule 
 of life, and because he realized that the whole truth 
 must be told, he said : 
 
 "I received a letter and some photographs which 
 arrived in the same package, contained in an en- 
 velope which bore the name Llorente. But the pho- 
 tographs were not of you, Mr. Van Cleve. Evi- 
 dently there had been a substitution of others in 
 the place of yours at the last moment. Do you 
 recall who was with you at the time the envelope 
 was sealed for mailing?" 
 
 "Perfectly. Why?" 
 
 "Bear with me a moment, Mr. Van Cleve. I will 
 make it all clear to you presently. And, before we 
 proceed, you of course understand that if there has 
 been a loss it is not yours. The bank or rather, I 
 personally must sustain that." 
 
 "Has there been a loss ?" Van Cleve asked in his 
 quiet tones. "Has some person succeeded in impos- 
 ing upon you by representing himself to be Ander- 
 son Van Cleve ?" 
 
 "Yes. I will come to that in a moment. Who 
 was with you when the envelope that contained 
 your letter and the photographs was sealed?" 
 
 "My superintendent and general manager a man 
 named Holbrook Chilton." 
 
 "Nobody else?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Is he a tall, bearded man, tanned and browned to 
 the complexion of an Indian? Has he a heavy 
 shock of rather long hair that was once black but
 
 54 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 is now quite gray; that is white, in fact, over the 
 temples ? Is his beard nearly white in front of the 
 ears and grizzled where it is not white? And did 
 he wear the charo costume of Mexico and a wide 
 sombrero?" Harvard asked evenly and slowly. 
 
 "That is a very good mental picture of him, save 
 for the description you give of his hair and beard. 
 I don't remember that he had any gray hairs at 
 all." 
 
 "Then he must have made them so with some 
 preparation." 
 
 "Probably. How much did he succeed in get- 
 ting away with?" 
 
 "A very considerable sum, Mr. Van Cleve; but, 
 as I said before, the loss is not yours it is ours. 
 Wait. I will show you the pictures of himself that 
 he sent in place of yours." 
 
 Harvard turned his chair and reached out for 
 the envelope of the photographer, Llorente, in 
 which, he still supposed, were contained the two 
 photographs of the man in charo costume who had 
 so success fiuly introduced and identified himself as 
 Anderson Van Cleve. 
 
 "Here they are," he said, and drew the two pic- 
 tures, with Van Cleve's letter between them, from 
 the envelope. 
 
 For a moment afterward he sat quite motionless, 
 staring at the objects he held in his hand, an ex- 
 pression of utter amazement depicted upon his coun- 
 tenance. Then amazement became anger and an- 
 ger faded slowly into chagrined amusement. There 
 was a wry smile in his eyes and twitching at the
 
 THE OTHER MAN FROM MEXICO 55 
 
 corners of his mouth when, without further com- 
 ment, he put the two photographs into the out- 
 stretched hand of Anderson Van Geve. It was the 
 latter's turn to manifest amazement then. 
 
 "Why," he exclaimed, raising his eyes quickly, 
 "these are not pictures of Chilton! They are the 
 photographs of ^myself ; the very same two that I 
 sent to you from Mexico City." 
 
 Harvard nodded. 
 
 "I know it now," he said, still smiling that 
 wry smile. "There has been another substitution; 
 that is all. The other two pictures those that I 
 have described to you were in this envelope at a 
 late hour yesterday afternoon. Mr. Holbrook Chil-. 
 ton is an exceedingly clever person, Mr. Van Cleve." 
 
 "He is even more resourceful than I had sup- 
 posed," was Van Cleve's dry comment. "But never 
 mind the loss of those photographs of him. I have 
 a small kodak snapshot of him that I took myself 
 less than a year ago if it will be of any service 
 later." 
 
 "He must have made this second substitution yes- 
 terday, when I left him alone near my desk for two 
 or three minutes," Harvard said. 
 
 "Do I understand you, Harvard, that Chilton was 
 here in this bank in this very office as late as 
 yesterday ?" Van Cleve asked. 
 
 "Yes. And he occupied that same chair upon 
 which you are now seated. He was here at eleven 
 o'clock. He went away about eleven-thirty. But I 
 had better tell you the entire story, just as it hap- 
 pened, Mr. Van Cleve."
 
 56 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 "Yes, of course. But wait a moment before you 
 begin. I remember now that it was Chilton who 
 put the photographs into the envelope and sealed 
 it in Mexico. That was when he made the first 
 substitution. Afterward we walked down to the 
 Zocolo together and put it in the general post- 
 office. But never mind that now. Let me hear the 
 entire story." 
 
 Harvard told it. He began at the moment of 
 Chilton' s first appearance, and he omitted no detail 
 with which he was familiar, up to the time when 
 Chilton walked out of the Centropolis Bank at half 
 past eleven the preceding day; and Mr. Van Cleve 
 listened to the recital with close attention. In the 
 beginning of it, however, Harvard paused long 
 enough to use the telephone and to call up the 
 detective agency that handled the bank's busi- 
 ness. By the time he had finished, the 
 chief of that agency, with two of his best op- 
 eratives, sent in their cards. Then Harvard had to 
 go entirely over the story a second time, to reply 
 to innumerable questions and to describe as well as 
 he could do so the man himself. Thus was de- 
 veloped, in a comparatively short time thereafter, 
 the information described in the closing words of 
 the preceding chapter. 
 
 Also, during that conversation was disclosed the 
 exact amount that Chilton had succeeded in getting 
 away with, as follows : 
 
 By the first check, O. K.'d by Bingham Harvard, 
 $350,500 of which $100,000 was redeposited at 
 once. By a second and third check, cashed at the
 
 THE OTHER MAN FROM MEXICO 57 
 
 teller's window (where the man had been intro- 
 duced by Harvard), $10,500 and $100,000, respec- 
 tively. And from Tom Clancy, $36,000. Total, 
 $397,000. Chilton had left in the Centropolis Bank 
 only $3,182 of the amount that Van Cleve had 
 placed on deposit there. 
 
 "The only wonder is that, with his superb assur- 
 ance and nerve, he did not take it all" Mr. Van 
 Cleve remarked dryly. 
 
 "He might have done so," Bingham Harvard re- 
 plied. "I had not a doubt concerning the identifi- 
 cation ; neither had Tom Clancy. Why, the fellow 
 offered to show me the letters he had received from 
 us here and carbon copies of your letters to us 
 which, he said, were in his baggage at the hotel. 
 It shows the extent of my gullibility, Mr. Van 
 Cleve, that I waved the offer aside as unnecessary." 
 
 Harvard wheeled his chair around until he again 
 faced the chief of the detective agency. 
 
 "What do you think about it, chief?" he asked 
 with a half smile. 
 
 The chief shook his head. 
 
 "One cannot answer such a question offhand," 
 he replied. "Chilton, as he called himself and you 
 can bank on it that it is not his right name has 
 had twenty- four hours for his get-away. He might 
 be in Chicago, St. Louis, New Orleans, or any 
 old place by this time. But I will get the wires busy 
 at once, Mr. Harvard, and report to you as soon 
 as there is anything to report." 
 
 As soon as Van Cleve and Harvard were alone
 
 58 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 again, the former remarked in his quietly even 
 tone: 
 
 "Bingham, it has been a business rule with me 
 never to put all of my eggs into one basket; which 
 is to say that my account in this bank is not the 
 only one I have on this side of the Rio Grande. I 
 have one in St. Louis, one in Chicago, and another 
 in Boston. So the temporary deprivation of my 
 balance here will not embarrass me at all. There- 
 fore I have a suggestion to make to you." 
 
 "Yes, sir?" 
 
 "Your paying tellers, your cashier, possibly one 
 or more others of your employees, those defectives, 
 and ourselves are the only persons who have knowl- 
 edge of what has happened. My advice is that you 
 enjoin absolute secrecy upon all of them, and that 
 the circumstances be kept entirely to ourselves for 
 the present." 
 
 "But you " 
 
 "I am your foster father's friend and yours. I 
 do not need that money at present. I do believe 
 that we will recover it or very nearly all of it 
 sooner or later. So let's go easy for the present, 
 anyhow." 
 
 "If Chilton should have taken it into his head to 
 return to Mexico what then?" 
 
 "He won't do that. I feel assured of that much. 
 If he should well, I'd get him quicker than you 
 could get him here. No. He won't go back to 
 Mexico. My belief is that he will stay right here 
 in New York City. I know the man. I know his 
 nerve. I know his resourcefulness. I will admit
 
 THE OTHER MAN FROM MEXICO 59 
 
 to you now that I had an inkling of what might 
 have happened before I arrived in New York." 
 
 "You did? How was that, sir?" 
 
 "I was detained two days after the time I had set 
 for leaving Mexico. The stated reason for my de- 
 tention was a mere subterfuge, and I knew it, but I 
 could not avoid it. I half suspected that Chilton 
 was the cause of it, and it made me think. I was 
 not entirely unprepared for what has happened." 
 
 Harvard picked up the two checks that Chilton 
 had signed, which he had ordered sent in to him, 
 examined them attentively, and then asked Van 
 Cleve to write his name. 
 
 Then he put the forgeries down on the desk in 
 front of him, one on either side of the genuine 
 signature. 
 
 "It is the most remarkable forgery I have ever 
 seen/' he said after a moment. 
 
 "Yes," Van Cleve replied, also studying the three 
 signatures. "Chilton is what you may call a 'free- 
 hand' artist. He is really wonderful with his pencil, 
 in sketching faces, reproducing expressions and all 
 that. That same talent has enabled him, with prac- 
 tice, to reproduce my signature with exactitude. A 
 signature should be more easily copied in that way 
 than the expression depicted in eyes, mouth, nos- 
 trils, and contour of a man's face. But it does not 
 concern us as to how he did it; the fact that stares 
 at us is that he did do it, and that he got away 
 with it." 
 
 When Van Cleve had gone away, and Bingham 
 Harvard was alone, he sat very still at his desk for
 
 60 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 a long time, thinking deeply and intensely upon the 
 problem that confronted him. Then he pulled out 
 a drawer of the desk and took therefrom a photo- 
 graph of a police officer in the uniform of a lieu- 
 tenant. The face was a handsome one in its way, 
 although possibly it suggested rather too much of 
 what might be called "bulldog" characteristics. It 
 was the picture of Detective Lieutenant Rodney 
 Rushton, who was, at the time, serving out a long 
 prison sentence for complicity in the theft of $136,- 
 ooo from that very bank. The picture was one 
 which the lieutenant had given to President Chester, 
 long ago, at a time when he possessed Chester's 
 entire confidence. 
 
 Harvard studied the pictured face long and care- 
 fully. Then, silently, he told himself: 
 
 "Rushton is the man! He has got the ability, 
 and, if given the opportunity, he can, and he will, 
 make good. I wonder if it can be done? I wonder 
 if I can get him out of prison, on parole, for this 
 specific purpose ? 
 
 "It is worth trying, anyway, and it will give him 
 an opportunity to redeem himself. Set a thief to 
 catch a thief! By Jove, I'll try it." 
 
 Harvard reached for the telephone and called up 
 the office of the district attorney.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE MAKING OF A MAN 
 
 The private office of the district attorney of New 
 York county, four days later; Wednesday of the 
 succeeding week. The district attorney and Bing- 
 ham Harvard were alone together. They had the 
 air of having exhausted the topic that was the ob- 
 ject of their meeting at that time and place. They 
 seemed to be awaiting the arrival of a person ex- 
 pected. After a somewhat extended silence be- 
 tween them, the county official remarked, casually : 
 
 "I regret, Harvard, that I have not the confidence 
 in this experiment that you possess. The fact is 
 due, I suppose, to my official training. Honestly, as 
 I told you when you suggested this thing, last Sat- 
 urday, Rushton is the very last man I would have 
 selected for this form of leniency." 
 
 "Nevertheless, I believe that he will make good," 
 Harvard replied, smiling confidently. 
 
 The district attorney shrugged. 
 
 "He was a grafter from Graftersville," he said, 
 shortly. "He is a convicted felon. He has served 
 less than two years of his ten years' sentence. He 
 is " 
 
 They were interrupted by a summons at the 
 door. 
 
 "He has arrived, evidently," Harvard said qui- 
 etly. "Will you leave me quite alone with him, 
 
 61
 
 62 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 please? And I would rather that you did not ad- 
 dress a word to him now. Wait until I have had 
 my talk with him." 
 
 "Oh, all right, Harvard. Just as you say." 
 
 The district attorney left his chair and threw 
 open the door. Three men stood outside, waiting: 
 two detectives of the district attorney's staff, and 
 between them, Rodney Rushton, handcuffed to one 
 of them. 
 
 "Take off those irons, Snell, and leave Rushton 
 alone with this gentleman," the district attorney 
 ordered, and passed outside. 
 
 A moment later the door closed, and Rodney 
 Rushton, unfettered and unhampered, stood alone 
 in the presence of the man he had once so foully 
 wronged, and who had been the direct cause of the 
 prison sentence he was enduring.* Rushton's eyes 
 were furtive, suspicious, sullen. With his close- 
 cropped hair and shaven face and lip, he looked 
 more the bulldog than ever. The angry scowl on 
 his face and in his eyes, deepened the instant he 
 saw and recognized Bingham Harvard. 
 
 "You, eh?" he said, with a half snarl, bending 
 slightly forward toward the man he thought to be 
 his sworn enemy. His eyes were blazing with ill- 
 suppressed fury. His fingers twitched. Every 
 muscle in his body was tense and strained in the 
 visible effort at self-control. 
 
 "Say, Harvard, if I didn't know that you pos- 
 sess the strength of ten ordinary men, I'd take a 
 
 * See "Alias the Night Wind" and "The Return of the Night 
 Wind."
 
 THE MAKING OF A MAN 63 
 
 chance right now, and try to choke the life outa 
 you." 
 
 "Sit down, Rushton," Harvard replied calmly. 
 "Take that chair. I have considerable to say to 
 you." 
 
 "Oh, you have, have you? Say, what did you 
 have me brought down here for, anyhow? Wanta 
 get some more testimony out o' me eh?" Rush- 
 ton snarled ; but he dropped into the chair that Har- 
 vard indicated. 
 
 "You were a good detective, Rushton," Harvard 
 replied, speaking slowly but with quiet emphasis. 
 "By nature, and by training, and because of experi- 
 ence and a natural aptitude for the work, there was 
 none better qualified than yourself when you were 
 at headquarters. If you had kept straight if you 
 had not gone money-mad you would have been 
 the peer of all of them down there. You know 
 that, don't you?" 
 
 "Say, Mr. Man, is this here guff you're givin' 
 me intended for a sermon?" 
 
 "Possibly; but I want you to listen to me to the 
 end. You admit, do you not, that what I have said 
 is true?" 
 
 "Maybe it is, and maybe it ain't. What of it?" 
 
 "This : I am going to ask you a question 
 straight from the shoulder, Rushton and I want 
 you to reply to it, straight from your inmost heart. 
 This is it: If you were given a chance to redeem 
 yourself if you were freed from prison on parole, 
 and given the opportunity to make good, would 
 you do it? Would you be on the level?"
 
 Harvard paused to study the effect of his words. 
 And then. 
 
 "Would you play square and open? Would you 
 be honest and straightforward, and do your utmost 
 to win back the place in the world that you have 
 lost, and to deserve once more the respect and 
 confidence of your fellow men? Would you, 
 Rushton?" 
 
 Harvard bent forward in his chair as he put the 
 compound question. His level gaze bored into 
 Rushton's soul, and the convict's eyes widened, his 
 face became a shade whiter than its prison pallor, 
 and his lips parted in an effort to speak, although 
 for a space no sound issued from them. But at 
 last, in a voice that was gruff and husky with emo- 
 tion, he faltered: 
 
 "As sure as there is a God in heaven, Har- 
 vard, I would! / would!" Then: "Say! What 
 are you givin' me, anyhow? What kind of a stall 
 is this that you're workin' on me? I ain't no 
 candy kid, Mr. Bingham Harvard. What are you 
 try in' to dig out from under my breast-plate, Mr. 
 Alias the Night Wind?" 
 
 Harvard leaned back in his chair again, smiling. 
 
 "I'll accept your reply to my questions and strike 
 out those you have asked," he said. "I am here to 
 offer you just that chance, Rushton. You are here 
 to accept it, or decline it, as you may prefer." 
 
 The convict seized upon the arms of his chair 
 and gripped them until his knuckles became as 
 white as chalk. He breathed hard. He attempted 
 no reply. He had begun to realize that the man
 
 THE MAKING OF A MAN 65 
 
 by whom he was confronted was not merely talk- 
 ing was in earnest in what he had said. 
 
 Harvard spoke again, in a low tone, and quietly. 
 
 "You have been, in the past, about seven-tenths 
 to the good, and three-tenths to the bad, Rushton 
 and that is pretty nearly the make-up of almost 
 every man you will meet and pass in the city 
 streets. The difference is that the badness takes 
 different forms in different men. Yours took the 
 form of money-madness. You have been trained 
 in an atmosphere of graft. You came to look 
 upon it as a sort of inherited right. With time 
 and opportunity it spread, like a rash on your 
 skin, all over you, all through you. And then it 
 got you 'in bad,' and it dumped you, and put you 
 where you have been for almost two years. You 
 want to get out of it, don't you?" 
 
 "You bet your sweet life I want to get out of 
 it, Mr. Harvard. Honest, don't play with me or 
 fool me, for God's sake ! Is there a chance ? Say, 
 is there one?" 
 
 "Yes, Rushton, there is one. Will you take it?" 
 
 "Will / take it? Good God, won't I take it!" 
 
 His lips trembled. He wheeled in his tracks 
 until his back was toward Harvard, and stood so 
 for a moment with his face buried in his hands. 
 Then he turned slowly around again, and with 
 solemn face but shining eyes he said quietly: "I 
 will take it, Mr. Harvard, and I will make 
 good." 
 
 "Fine," said Harvard. "Sit down again now, 
 and look this over." He took a folded document
 
 flG THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 from one of his pockets and gave it to Rushton. 
 The latter read what it contained, with distended 
 eyes and set jaws. Twice he looked up incredu- 
 lously, unbelievingly. Then he read on to the end 
 of it. Then he folded it and sat very still, holding 
 the document tightly in one clenched hand. He did 
 not speak; possibly he could not have done so at 
 that moment. 
 
 Harvard spoke again quietly : 
 
 "It is, as you see, a parole, granted at the in- 
 stance of the district attorney and myself and 
 signed by the Governor of the State. It gives you 
 your freedom under the stated conditions. A dis- 
 honest act on your part would end it. Either the 
 district attorney or myself can have you returned 
 to prison at any time but neither of us will ever 
 think of doing so unless you give us cause. You 
 cannot leave the State save with the written per- 
 mission of one of us, but I shall give you that 
 written permission to go wheresoever you will at 
 once." 
 
 "But why, why? Why have you done this, Mr. 
 Harvard? For me! You, of all men! Why? I do 
 
 not understand it. I Say! I'll go through 
 
 hell for you for this, and I won't get so much as 
 a hair of my head singed, either. I'm done with 
 crooked ways. I'll make good! I'll make good! 
 You have given me the chance; you watch. I I 
 wish I was a woman for half a minute; I'd like 
 to cry. Honest." 
 
 "Go ahead and cry. iC won't hurt you." 
 
 "I can't, and that's the hell of it. Honest, Mr.
 
 THE MAKING OF A MAN 67 
 
 Harvard, why did you do this? Because I know 
 that you're the one who has done it." 
 
 Harvard smiled as he replied : 
 
 "Partly from a motive of selfishness, Rushton, 
 and partly because I have the utmost faith in that 
 seven-tenths of good in you. I have got a case 
 for you to work out quite an important one. I 
 believe that you can do it. I have convinced my- 
 self that you are the only man who can do it 
 quickly, in the right way and as I want it done. It 
 would not do the State of New York any good, 
 or me any good, or you any good, to keep you 
 locked up in prison eight years more. To have you 
 outside and busy and redeeming yourself as well 
 as serving the State and county, will do us all 
 good. You were never a criminal from choice 
 and selection; you became one because of environ- 
 ment and an insidious 'system.' I am going to put 
 you on the track of a man who is a criminal from 
 deliberate study, selection, and self -education to 
 that end the kind of a man whom it is best to 
 put into a prison and keep there. Do you want 
 the job?" 
 
 "You bet I do. Just lead me to the place where 
 the trail begins, that's all." 
 
 "The trail begins in my private office at the 
 bank, Rushton. I am its president now. Mr. 
 Chester has retired. We will go there together. 
 But first" he pressed a button beneath the edge 
 of the desk "we must say good-by to the district 
 attorney." 
 
 That official entered a moment later. Rushton
 
 68 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 sprang to his feet in greeting. His face was trans- 
 figured. He looked another man than the one who 
 had stood at the door a little while before, hand- 
 cuffed to an officer. His eyes shone with enthusi- 
 asm and confidence. He stood straight and solidly 
 upon his feet where he had half slouched before. 
 
 "Mr. District Attorney, I want to thank you for 
 this," he said. "I want to promise you that you 
 won't be sorry that you will never regret what 
 has happened to-day. I am going to make good. 
 I'm going to win back all that I lost. Why, I 
 can't believe it all, even now. It's it's wonderful ; 
 just wonderful. You believe me, don't you, Mr. 
 District Attorney?" 
 
 "Yes, Rushton, I think I do now. I did not, 
 though, until now. Go ahead, Rushton. Try it 
 out; and win out. And don't thank me; thank 
 Mr. Harvard. I never would have taken the 
 chance if he hadn't badgered me and the Gover- 
 nor, too, for that matter into it." 
 
 "Well, sir, you take it from me, he won't lose; 
 nor you; nor the Governor. And I'll win. I 
 swear it!" 
 
 "You are beginning to make me think that you 
 will, Rushton," the official replied, with a kindly 
 smile. 
 
 Not until Rushton and Bingham Harvard were 
 seated together in the private office of the Centrop- 
 olis Bank did the latter refer to the matter which 
 had been the direct cause of liberating the ex-lieu- 
 tenant from prison. Then he related it exactly as 
 we know it here, adding to it that information con-
 
 THE MAKING OF A MAN 69 
 
 cerning the mysterious disappearance of Chilton 
 from the Pullman stateroom on the Chicago train. 
 Rushton listened with close attention to all of it, 
 occasionally interjecting a pertinent question, mak- 
 ing few notes, concentrating his mind upon every- 
 thing that was told to him in a way that pleased 
 Harvard very much indeed. It was not at all the 
 old-time, blustering, bullying, bluffing Rushton who 
 listened; it was the Rushton who, years before, 
 had started out upon a promising career, filled with 
 hope and alive with ambition to succeed in his 
 chosen calling. 
 
 "I'll get him, Mr. Harvard," he said at the 
 finish of it; "and I will get the most of that money, 
 too. It's a cinch that he's got it planted somewhere 
 by this time, and it's a pretty safe proposition that 
 he planted it somewhere in the city of New York, 
 too." 
 
 "I am sorry that he got away with those pic- 
 tures of himself," Harvard suggested. 
 
 "They wouldn't be any good to me at all," Rush- 
 ton replied quickly. "He ain't wearin' that hair and 
 beard any more; and I guess a lot of that tan on 
 his face was artificial the same as the gray hair. 
 This ain't a case where pictures would do any good ; 
 it's a case for honest-injun, straight-from-the- 
 shoulder detective work and I'm the guy that can 
 do it."
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 ROLLING A CIGARETTE 
 
 Rodney Rushton was a man transformed. And 
 Bingham Harvard had given him permission to see 
 Lady Kate that evening, to secure her approval of 
 what he was to do to redeem himself. The whirl- 
 wind events that had entered his life within a few 
 hours impressed him with the force, and faith also, 
 of a miracle; for Rushton in his youth had had a 
 mother who had talked much of such things into 
 his young ears. And it was as Bingham Harvard 
 had said to him: his instincts were naturally good 
 ones. Only the environment of that octopuslike 
 police system of old New York which was the 
 growth of many decades, which had been planted 
 and had flourished amazingly in the days of Tweed, 
 and which had grown and spread unbelievably, had 
 led him astray from the paths of rectitude and 
 virtue that his mother had once lighted for him. 
 Many like him have been thrust into the mire, 
 to sink deeper and deeper into it with each struggle 
 to escape; and many had gone down, never 
 to escape; some had succeeded in withdrawing 
 (like his friend Lieutenant Banta, for example*) ; 
 and others, by good fortune rather than by intent, 
 had escaped altogether. 
 
 *See "Alias the Night Wind" and "The Return of the 
 Night Wind." 
 
 70
 
 ROLLING A CIGARETTE 71 
 
 Also it was as Bingham Harvard had said in 
 reference to Rushton's abilities as a detective of- 
 ficer. His superiors at the central office had for- 
 merly acknowledged that there was none better; 
 and if, in the past, he had relied upon his intelli- 
 gence rather than upon his shrewdness, and had 
 stuck to honest methods rather than use the ques- 
 tionable ones that had offered themselves unsought, 
 his name already would have been a household 
 word for ability. And he was wise enough to 
 recognize the facts, without egotism, when he came 
 away from the bank after his interview with Har- 
 vard in which he had been told the story of the 
 coming and going of Holbrook Qiilton. 
 
 He saw himself as others saw him and he saw 
 it all, without self -apology. The days and nights 
 that he had passed in prison had tilled and enriched 
 the soil in which this act of Harvard's, aided by 
 the district attorney, had planted the seed of re- 
 habilitation. 
 
 Rushton walked out of the bank, not a new man, 
 but the former man restored. His face was illumi- 
 nated. His eyes shone with resolution and pur- 
 pose. He had cast aside the garment of shame, 
 remorse, and reprisal, as he might have thrown 
 an old coat into the dust-heap. He looked at men 
 as he passed them in the street and smiled into, 
 their faces, conscious that he no longer would have 
 reason to avert his gaze; and there was a bound- 
 ing sensation in his heart and uplift in his soul, a 
 clearness of his moral vision, which made him 
 very, very glad.
 
 He sought his old home in a house he owned 
 and which had remained undisturbed during his 
 absence. It was in a street east of Union Square. 
 Relatives still occupied the lower floors, but the 
 top one that he had occupied remained as he had 
 left it. When he came forth later, dressed and 
 equipped for the campaign he was to undertake 
 (for he had made several purchases on his way 
 there), the erectness of his bearing, the spring in 
 his tread, the lofty impulse in his soul, lent to him 
 a dignity that he had almost forgotten and which 
 he had thought never to possess again : the dignity 
 that belongs with right-doing. 
 
 There was still much time to kill before he could 
 present himself at the home of Bingham Harvard, 
 for he had asked very earnestly for the privilege 
 to see and talk with Lady Kate and to secure her 
 approval before he should actually begin the work 
 he was to do. He occupied part of it by a visit to 
 the restaurant and by ordering for the first time 
 in many months exactly the sort of a meal he 
 wanted; and there was still time to spare when he 
 came out of it. He sauntered through a side-street 
 to_Fifth Avenue, turned north along that thorough- 
 fare, and walked on and on, sometimes nodding 
 familiarly toward certain towering buildings that 
 looked good to him, and glancing askance at oth- 
 ers that had sprung into being during his absence; 
 and so he came, after a time, to the Hotel Mam- 
 moth, 
 
 At the entrance he halted, ostensibly to light a 
 fresh cigar, for he was ever an inveterate smoker;
 
 ROLLING A CIGARETTE 73 
 
 really to stand there for a while and to look upon 
 the familiar and the unfamiliar faces that passed 
 him going in and out of the great hostelry. Be- 
 side him, their elbows almost touching, was a man 
 whose presence and nearness Rushton did not at 
 once notice; until, chancing to glance downward, 
 he discovered the stranger in the act of tearing a 
 yellow cigarette-paper from a little book of them, 
 crease it through the middle delicately, produce a 
 small pouch of embroidered buckskin from which 
 he sprinkled tobacco (crushed and dried leaves of 
 the natural plant, Rushton noticed, too) upon the 
 creased paper, and then deftly roll the combina- 
 tion into a perfectly- formed cigarette. 
 
 Rushton watched the man with an abstract sort 
 of fascination ; for while his mind was wholly upon 
 other matters, he still took subconscious note of the 
 odd manner in which the stranger rolled the paper 
 around the tobacco. Also he made the barely con- 
 scious mental comment, characteristic of his habit 
 of close observation, that "the stranger was too 
 swell a guy to be rolling his own makings." For 
 the first time he took note of the stranger's fea- 
 tures. For a man who was so immaculately and 
 perfectly attired and yet wrn rolled cigarettes with 
 all the deftness of a cowpuncher, and who per- 
 formed the act with lightninglike swiftness and be- 
 tween the second and third fingers of his hands 
 instead of between the thumbs and fingers, inter- 
 ested that sixth sense of Rushton's which had long 
 ago beckoned him into the police force and had 
 developed him into a detective. It was entirely a
 
 74 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 casual glance that Rushton cast upon the stranger 
 who stood beside him. He saw a man somewhat 
 taller than himself, perfectly put together, splen- 
 didly formed for athletics, graceful of pose, dis- 
 tinguished of appearance, handsome of feature, 
 with dark hair and red-brown eyes that were large 
 and full and immoderately glowing behind the 
 shell-rimmed glasses that were worn over them. 
 
 The stranger inhaled only a few deep breaths of 
 smoke from the cigarette he had made. Then he 
 cast it aside and did something which the observing 
 Rushton regarded as being distinctly more appro- 
 priate. He produced a beautifully monogrammed 
 case from one of his pockets, extracted a gold- 
 tipped Egyptian cigarette from among the many 
 that it contained, and lighted that. And he made 
 a wry face over the first whiff of it as he did so. 
 
 "He don't like that kind, but he's tryin' to learn 
 to," was Rushton's mental comment. 
 
 Other things attracted the former detective's 
 attention. When he turned again to glance toward 
 his neighbor the man had disappeared. Rushton 
 shrugged his shoulders and forgot him, never 
 imagining that within another hour or so he was 
 to meet him face to face and be introduced to the 
 man according to the recognized customs. But 
 the stranger had not once turned his eyes upon 
 the former policeman who had been standing so 
 near while the cigarette was manufactured, so it 
 was not likely that the recognition would be mutual 
 when the two should meet. 
 
 Rushton, however, never forgot a face. He pos- 
 sessed much the same qualities which had given
 
 ROLLING A CIGARETTE 75 
 
 renown to one of his former compatriots at head- 
 quarters, who had been known variously as "The 
 Moniker Man" and "The Man with the Camera 
 Eye" and "Second-Sight Bill." He never forgot a 
 face that he had once seen ; and invariably he could 
 remember when and where he had seen the face 
 also. 
 
 He looked at his watch and discovered that he 
 would just about use up the necessary time if he 
 walked slowly from the Hotel Mammoth to B ing- 
 ham Harvard's home, which was located on the 
 same avenue at some distance above the Plaza. 
 So he strolled forward. And ultimately he came 
 to Bingham Harvard's house, as we shall see. 
 
 So did that other man arrive there later; and 
 heralded, too, by a card and a brief note that he 
 had previously despatched to Bingham Harvard's 
 wife; to Lady Kate, as Rushton always thought of 
 her. For she had been "Lady Kate of the Police" 
 before she met and wedded the man who had won 
 the alias of "The Night Wind." 
 
 For Rodney Rushton there remained only one 
 thing to be attained now, that Harvard had be- 
 stowed his confidence, and that was the approval 
 of the act by Harvard's wife ; by Lady Kate. And 
 it was with a fervent prayer in his heart and soul 
 that Rushton walked forward on his quest to se- 
 cure that approval, never doubting that it would be 
 accorded him. And so he came presently to the 
 door of the mansion that had once been the home 
 of President Chester of the Centropolis Bank, and 
 which that same splendid old man had bestowed 
 upon the bride of the man whom he loved as a son.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 SOME OF RUSHTON'S "DOPE" 
 
 Experts have repeatedly insisted that every man 
 possesses two characteristics which are impossible 
 of perfect and continuous disguise: his voice and 
 his walk. It is certain, nevertheless, that the man 
 called Holbrook Chilton succeeded in accomplish- 
 ing both supposedly impossible feats. We shall see 
 presently how he did it. 
 
 The evening of the day of Rodney Rushton's 
 deliverance from prison and his assignment to the 
 case of running down the forger, Chilton, Bingham 
 Harvard spent at home with his wife. Until then 
 he had told her nothing concerning his plan to give 
 the ex-lieutenant of police a chance to redeem 
 himself. 
 
 In fact, he had not felt entirely assured that 
 Katherine would unqualifiedly approve of his 
 philanthropic efforts concerning Rushton. The ex- 
 periences that she had encountered and overcome in 
 association with him while she was connected with 
 the Detective Bureau down at headquarters were 
 not calculated to predispose her in his favor. 
 
 There had been a time, approximately three 
 years antedating the beginning of this history, 
 when, because her father, who was a prominent 
 Kentuckian, had insisted upon her marrying a man 
 
 76
 
 SOME OF RUSHTON'S "DOPE" 77 
 
 she did not love, she had left her home in the Blue 
 Grass country and gone to the great city of New 
 York. Her father having been a United States 
 Senator, and she having spent much time in Wash- 
 ington as a girl and a young woman, she found it 
 possible to find the kind of influential backing she 
 wanted. With it she had sought and obtained an 
 appointment on probation to the detective bu- 
 reau of the New York police. As "Lady Kate 
 of the Police" she had made good; as Lady Kate 
 she had first been brought in contact with Bingham 
 Harvard, alias The Night Wind, and with Bingham 
 Harvard's true and tried friend, Tom Clancy; and 
 with Lieutenant Rodney Rushton, then an active 
 and more or less important quantity at the Central 
 Office.* 
 
 Now she had become the wife of Harvard and 
 her police experiences were relegated to the past. 
 She had settled down to the young-matronly pur- 
 suits of a thoroughly happy and contented do- 
 mestic atmosphere. But who shall say that yearn- 
 ings for the concentration and excitement of her 
 career as an accredited detective did not at times 
 possess her? They did. The fact that she made 
 no mention of them to her husband was merely a 
 matter of judgment and expediency with her; but 
 she found a great deal to interest her in keeping 
 pretty close tabs upon the "doings" at police head- 
 quarters, and in working out mentally (and often 
 to her own satisfaction) some of the cases that 
 
 * See "Alias the Night Wind" and "The Return of the 
 Night Wind."
 
 78 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 puzzled the authorities. And she had written 
 many a letter of modest suggestion to the deputy 
 commissioner and the inspector in charge of the 
 bureau. 
 
 Chilton's masterly theft of three hundred and 
 ninety-seven thousand dollars did not, however, get 
 into the newspapers. It was a closely-guarded 
 bank secret, following out the suggestions voiced 
 by Mr. Anderson Van Cleve. The regular police 
 were not called into the case at all. The national 
 agency, whose chief with two operatives had been 
 summoned to the bank to meet Van Cleve and ex- 
 Lieutenant Rodney Rushton, were the only par- 
 ties at work upon it; nor did they work together. 
 Rushton greatly preferred to work alone. 
 
 Naturally, however, an announcement of his 
 parole from prison by the Governor at the joint 
 request of Bingham Harvard and the district attor- 
 ney, was printed and appeared in the evening pa- 
 pers of that day. There are always newspaper 
 reporters around the office of the district attor- 
 ney, and they were not slow to see and recognize 
 the ex-lieutenant and to ask pertinent questions 
 concerning him. Lady Kate saw that announce- 
 ment and questioned her husband about it over the 
 dinner-table. He related the whole story from be- 
 ginning to end, and having a well-trained mind, 
 she listened without comment until he had finished. 
 
 "Where," she asked when he had done, "did you 
 acquire your superlative confidence in the ability 
 of Rodney Rushton?" 
 
 "I have always had it, Katherine, ever since I
 
 SOME OF RUSHTON'S "DOPE" 79 
 
 first knew the man," Harvard replied. "Mr. Ches- 
 ter felt the same way about him up to the time 
 when he knew that Rushton had gone wrong. You 
 may be sure of that, else Rushton could never have 
 made him believe " 
 
 "Yes, yes; I know," she interrupted. Then, 
 after a pause, she added tentatively: "Sometimes, 
 Bing, I wish that I were back in the harness again. 
 I wish it now, to-night. I do, really. I would 
 like nothing could give me more genuine pleasure 
 than to work on this case myself" and she looked 
 across the table beneath drooping lashes with a 
 glance that was at once whimsical and appealing. 
 
 "Nonsense, Kate!" he replied. 
 
 "I mean it," she said. "I do, really." 
 
 "Possibly you would like to assist Rushton ?" her 
 husband suggested ironically. 
 
 "I would," she retorted. "For one thing, I 
 would like to determine for myself if Rushton is 
 to be trusted completely. I shall not feel assured 
 as to that until I have seen him and talked with 
 him." 
 
 Harvard glanced at his watch. 
 
 "All right," he said. "You will have an oppor- 
 tunity inside of an hour. He asked if he might 
 drop in here for a few moments to pay his re- 
 spects to you, and I told him he might. He said 
 he wanted to start even and that he did not feel 
 as if he could quite do it without your approval." 
 
 Lady Kate nodded. 
 
 "That has a good sound," she remarked. "The 
 impulse to come here to see me is reassuring. All
 
 80 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 the same, I am rather sorry that he selected this 
 evening." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 Instead of replying in words she passed an. 
 opened envelope across the table to him, and he 
 took from it a card and a short written note which 
 he read aloud. It was merely a request that the 
 writer might be permitted to call and pay his re- 
 spects that evening, and to renew a valued and 
 cherished acquaintance of long standing. 
 
 "Who is Benton Keese?" Harvard asked, restor- 
 ing the note and card to the envelope and returning 
 it. 
 
 "Did I never tell you the name of the man whom 
 my father wanted me to marry? The man who 
 was the unconscious cause of my leaving home 
 and coming to New York and becoming a police- 
 woman?" she asked smilingly. 
 
 "No ; I don't think I ever heard it." 
 
 "The man was Benton Keese; and really, Bing, 
 I think we are under obligations to him don't 
 you? If he had not done as he did, if he had not 
 sought to influence my father to coerce me, I would 
 not have left home, I would not have come to New 
 York, I would never have been connected with the 
 police, and I never would have met you," 
 
 "Oh, well, I don't blame him for loving you, 
 little lady. I don't quite see how anybody can help 
 doing that. Poor devil, I suppose I ought to feel 
 sorry for him because he lost you only some- 
 how, I don't." 
 
 Soon after they returned to the library from
 
 SOME OF RUSHTON'S "DOPE" 81 
 
 dinner Rushton was announced. He had made 
 good use of his time. He was well and fashion- 
 ably attired, and but for the closely cropped hair 
 he would have borne little resemblance to the man 
 who had been taken that day to the district attor- 
 ney's office handcuffed to an officer. There was 
 definite purpose in his face, a new expression in 
 his eyes. Not a new man, but the real man, stood 
 before them in Rodney Rushton's shoes. 
 
 Lady Kate stepped quickly forward the instant 
 he appeared and offered him her hand. He took it 
 and held it for a moment \vhile he searched his 
 mind for words in which to express the emotions 
 he felt because of her reception of him. 
 
 "I guess, Lady Ka Mrs. Harvard that I 
 wronged you even worse than I did him, when I 
 framed up that crooked deal against the best guy 
 that ever stood in shoe-leather," he faltered lamely. 
 "But I did want to see you, Lady. I did wanta 
 hear you say that you'd forgiven me. That's why 
 
 I asked the Night Wi Say; I'm makin' bad 
 
 breaks, all right, ain't I? Anyhow, that's why I 
 wanted to come here to-night. Thank you both for 
 lettin' me." 
 
 "\Yhy, lieutenant," Katherine replied instantly, 
 "if you had not worked that frame-up, Mr. Har- 
 vard and I might never have known each other 
 at all." 
 
 "Say, I hadn't thought of that. I guess, maybe, 
 that's right, too. And there's another thing that 
 wouldn't have happened, either: I wouldn't have 
 stood just where I do now. I'd have been the same
 
 82 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 crooked cop, graftin' to beat the band, framin' up 
 lies and other things on innocent parties, and 
 
 "Well, Mrs. Harvard, this guy that's talkin' to 
 you now ain't the same Rushton that you knew 
 downtown; not so's you could notice it." 
 
 "I believe that thoroughly," Katherine replied 
 with feeling. 
 
 "I have been telling Mrs. Harvard about the 
 affair at the bank, Rushton," Bing remarked, to 
 change the subject. 
 
 "Gee, Lady Kate There I go again, call in' 
 
 you by that name. But it comes sort o' natural, 
 you know. You'll have to excuse me when I make 
 breaks like that." 
 
 "Call me Lady Kate, if it comes easier. I rather 
 like it," she replied. "What were you about to 
 say?" 
 
 "I was goin' to say that I couldn't help wishin' 
 that you were goin' to help on this case, same's 
 you did on that other one. Of course it's a foolish 
 wish, but " 
 
 "Perhaps not entirely foolish. I may be able 
 to assist. I will, if I can only the affair could not 
 end as the other one did; I couldn't marry the 
 criminal, you know." At which remark they all 
 laughed aloud happily. Rushton turned to Bingham 
 Harvard. 
 
 "Say," he said, "I've been dopin' this thing out 
 in my mind ever since we had our confidential chin 
 down at the bank." 
 
 "Well, what do you make out of your dope?" 
 Harvard inquired smilingly.
 
 SOME OF RUSHTON'S "DOPE" 83 
 
 "That fellow Chilton is some slick article, Mr. 
 Harvard. He's smoother and slipprier'n watch- 
 maker's oil, take it from me; and he's got nerve. 
 I'd lay my pile against a brick medallion that he 
 ain't got no criminal record, and that he has just 
 been layin' by an' studyin' out this big play for 
 months, maybe for years. To get Van Cleve's 
 bank-roll, I mean; not necessarily to pinch it in 
 just the manner he did do it finally. He belongs 
 to that breed of gamblers that stake their whole 
 stack of chips on a single turn of the cards." 
 
 "Very likely, Rushton." 
 
 "This thing didn't come onto him sudden. He'd 
 been thinkin' of something of the sort for months 
 and months sure as you're born. He'd been prac- 
 ticin' that signature all the time, too. I've doped 
 it out that he meant to bury Van Cleve somewhere 
 down in Mexico and to come here afterward and 
 pass himself off as the dead man. And then this 
 here opportunity fell onto him all of a sudden." 
 
 "That sounds reasonable," Harvard commented; 
 and Lady Kate nodded her approval of it. 
 
 "Then, another thing. His disappearin' from 
 that Pullman the way he did couldn't have meant 
 but one thing." 
 
 "What thing?" 
 
 "That he was comin' back here to New York. 
 That heavy tan on his face was painted on, I'll bet 
 a cooky; and for two reasons; to make him look 
 as dark as a Mexican and to keep off the real 
 tan, so that w r hen he got rid of the paint and his 
 beard and his long hair and other identifyin'
 
 84 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 marks, his complexion would be white enough, 
 and evenly white at that" 
 
 "It is your idea, then, that Chilton is, even now, 
 right here in New York City?" 
 
 "I'd bet on it goin' an' comin', and straight 
 across the board, Mr. Harvard," Rushton replied 
 with emphasis. "It wouldn't surprise me none if 
 he should have nerve enough to get himself intro- 
 duced at the bank under another name, so's he 
 could open an account with you. If he ain't plumb 
 full of what you call egotism I miss my target, 
 that's all. Why, I " 
 
 The door opened. A servant entered and 
 brought a card to Harvard, who announced: 
 
 "It is Mr. Keese, Katherine. Bring the gentle- 
 man here, Bolton" to the servant. Then: "We 
 will change the subject now, Rushton." 
 
 A moment later Benton Keese was shown into 
 the library, and Rodney Rushton caught his breath 
 and with difficulty withheld a violent start of sur- 
 prise when he saw the man. Benton Keese was the 
 man he had seen in the act of rolling a cigarette 
 before the entrance to the Hotel Mammoth!
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 TOM CLANCY'S FOOL REMARK 
 
 Tall, clean-cut, well built, smoothly shaven, un- 
 deniably handsome and distinguished in appear- 
 ance, richly and fashionably attired in a garb that 
 suggested the clerical without actually accomplish- 
 ing it, with tortoise-shell-rimmed eyeglasses, large 
 and round, that emphasized the luster of his brilliant 
 brown eyes, Benton Keese was an attractive figure 
 of a man as he came into the room and bowed 
 low over the white hand that Katherine extended 
 to him in greeting. He was entirely self-possessed ; 
 thoroughly at ease, and he turned with a graceful 
 gesture to acknowledge the introductions to "Mr. 
 Harvard, my husband, and Mr. Rushton, a friend." 
 
 And Katherine announced him to them as "Mr. 
 Benton Keese, of Lexington, Kentucky a friend 
 whom I have always known." 
 
 "You have changed very little, Benton/' Kath- 
 erine remarked when they had resumed their chairs, 
 and he replied smilingly : 
 
 "Outwardly, to the eye, perhaps you are right, 
 Katherine; but inside of me in my heart and 
 soul and aspirations and ambitions I feel that there 
 has been a very decided change." 
 
 He hesitated an instant, and then with glowing 
 eyes added in a tone that was almost inaudible: 
 
 85
 
 86 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 "A very decided change indeed with one excep- 
 tion, which can never change." 
 
 Harvard and Rushton did not could not hear 
 that last sentence that Benton Keese uttered. Ap- 
 parently he did not intend that they should hear it. 
 It was intended for Katherine's ears alone, and it 
 could have but one meaning: that the man who 
 made it was as madly and hopelessly in love with 
 her then as ever he had been. Keese lowered his 
 glistening eyes when he said it, and he contrived 
 to express the few words in such a manner that 
 they could convey no offense; nevertheless, Lady 
 Kate flushed vividly but it was with resentment 
 that he had dared to say such a thing to her; not 
 at all because she cared about what he did say. 
 
 Benton Keese had never attracted her. He was 
 much older than she ten years or thereabouts. 
 And when one is young, as she had been at the 
 time he had forced his attentions upon her, ten 
 years' seniority is an aeon of time. She had liked 
 him at a distance; had respected him because he 
 was a member of one of the old families of the 
 neighborhood of her birth; that was all. But now, 
 as he raised his brown eyes again to hers after 
 making that remark, a vague uneasiness beset her. 
 She recalled that she had fled from her home to 
 avoid him, because something within her, like a 
 sixth sense, had feared him; and now, of a sudden, 
 that indefinable fear assailed her anew. She could 
 not have told why; she could not have explained 
 it. Indeed, she flouted the idea mentally, yet all 
 the while she was quite conscious that it was there.
 
 The pause between his remark and Katherine's 
 succeeding question was so short as to be barely 
 noticeable. The flush on her face disappeared al- 
 most as soon as it came. Instinctively she forced 
 her chair a few inches farther away from Keese. 
 
 "You have been abroad somewhere, have you 
 not?" she asked. 
 
 "Yes. In China, mostly. In the interior. I 
 have just returned ; indeed, I have not been to 
 Kentucky as yet, although I have written that I 
 am back. As my manner of dress may have partly 
 suggested to you, I have been engaged in work 
 that was connected with certain foreign missions." 
 
 "You do not mean " she began; and he inter- 
 rupted her laughingly : 
 
 "Oh, no, Katherine! I have not taken orders. 
 I went out merely as an agent; a business agent 
 for the consolidated boards. But I was informed 
 of your marriage, even though I was at the other 
 side of the world. I hope you are glad to see 
 me?" 
 
 "I am of course. Very glad, Benton." 
 
 He bent nearer to her. 
 
 "Do you know, Katherine," he said, "that after 
 you disappeared from your home, and before I 
 went away, I searched everywhere to find you, and 
 that I " 
 
 "We will not refer to that time, if you please," 
 she interrupted him coldly. Then she turned to 
 the others. 
 
 "Bingham," she said, "Mr. Keese has been to 
 China. He has just returned." She felt that it
 
 88 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 was time to include her husband and Rushton in 
 the conversation. 
 
 Whatever reply Harvard might have made was 
 interrupted by the opening of the door, and Tom 
 Clancy appeared at the threshold. 
 
 "Hello, everybody," he exclaimed, advancing. 
 Then, perceiving Rushton, he halted. 
 
 "Well, by Jove !" he ejaculated. "I saw it in the 
 paper, Rushton, but I did not believe it. That is 
 what brought me here to-night, as a matter of 
 fact. So it's true, eh?" 
 
 He did not offer his hand to the ex-lieutenant. 
 Rushton, who had risen, stood very still, facing 
 him. 
 
 "Shake hands with Mr. Rushton, Tom," Har- 
 vard said quietly. "What you saw in the paper is 
 quite true, and more goes with it. Now, let me 
 present you to Mr. Keese, of Kentucky, but more 
 recently from China; an old friend of Kath- 
 erine's." 
 
 Tom, in his usual hearty manner, seized upon 
 Keese's hand and shook it vigorously; and, after 
 he had done that, instead of talking on in his cus- 
 tomarily enthusiastic manner, he did what for him 
 was an unusual thing. He kept silence. More, he 
 lifted the hand that had greeted Benton Keese and 
 fixed his eyes upon the fingers of it, as if they 
 were new to him. Then he laughed aloud ; and the 
 space of his silence and abstraction really occupied 
 less than a second of time. 
 
 "That's some grip that you brought home from 
 China with you, Mr. Keese," he said.
 
 TOM CLANCY'S FOOL REMARK 89 
 
 "I am sorry, Mr. Clancy, if I hurt you," Keese 
 replied. "It was involuntary." 
 
 "Hurt me?" Tom laughed. "Not at all. It 
 wasn't that. But if I didn't know better I would 
 swear that I had shaken hands with you before 
 somewhere. Odd, isn't it? That is a pronounced 
 peculiarity of mine remembering hand-shakes." 
 
 After that the conversation became general, and 
 within the hour Benton Keese arose to take his 
 leave. Harvard invited him cordially to call again. 
 Katherine's invitation was perfunctory but lacked 
 nothing of words. Clancy and Rushton bowed 
 their adieus from across the room. 
 
 "Who and what is he, anyhow?" Tom asked 
 when the man had gone. "Is he a minister, a 
 mission-worker, or a wire-tapper, Bing?" 
 
 "He is the man who sent this little lady here to 
 me," Harvard replied, laughing. "He is the chap 
 she ran away from when she came to New York; 
 the one her father wanted her to marry." 
 
 "It's a wonder that you didn't fall for him, 
 lady," Tom said, turning toward Katherine with 
 his humorous grin. "There's no denying that he's 
 a handsome chap. Say, Rushton, what is all this 
 song and dance about you? Is it a sure-enough 
 reformation?" 
 
 "Mr. Harvard has given me my chance. I have 
 accepted it; that's all, Mr. Clancy," the ex-lieuten- 
 ant replied. 
 
 "Bully for you! Say, I wonder if you know 
 that I saved your life once? That was when Bing
 
 90 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 was going out to kill you offhand and I wouldn't 
 let him do it. You owe me one for that." 
 
 "Tom," Harvard said quietly, "Van Cleve and I 
 agreed together that the Chilton episode should re- 
 main a bank secret. Chief Redhead and a few of 
 his operatives are the only persons outside of our 
 own circle who know about it. But / wanted to put 
 Rushton on the job, because I believe that he is 
 the man for it. The district attorney has aided 
 me, has given him a special appointment, with 
 authority to arrest; and there you are." 
 
 Rushton started to his feet. 
 
 "And here / am, too, when I oughta be goin'," 
 he exclaimed. 
 
 "I'll chase along with you, Rushton," Clancy 
 said, rising also. "No, Bing, thank you. I've got 
 another date. I dropped in for a moment, any- 
 how. 
 
 "Good night, Katherine. I hope you haven't a 
 tender spot left in your memory for that chap 
 Keese, eh?" 
 
 "Not one, Tom; nor the suggestion of one," 
 she smiled back at him. 
 
 "Well, take it from me, he has got a lot of 'em 
 for you. Judging from his eyes and manner, by 
 what little I saw of him, it's a wonder to me that 
 he did not seize you bodily and carry you off when 
 you knew him down there in Kentucky." 
 
 "Frankly, Tom, I was afraid that he would do 
 that very thing. That is why I ran away," Lady 
 Kate replied; and she spoke quite seriously appar- 
 ently.
 
 TOM CLANCY'S FOOL REMARK 91 
 
 Outside of the house Clancy and Rushton 
 walked in silence for a time. Then Tom stopped 
 in his tracks at the corner, and addressed his com- 
 panion abruptly. 
 
 "Rushton," he said, "I am going to make a fool 
 remark that hasn't got the slightest foundation to 
 stand upon other than a mere hand-shake; but 
 everything 'goes as it lays' just the same. The 
 fool remark is this : That guy Keese is the man 
 from Mexico, or I'm a damn fool. If he isn't that 
 fellow Chilton who shook hands with me at Har- 
 vard's bank and at my own office, and who got 
 away with Van Cleve's dough, I'll crawl back into 
 my hole and pull it in after me. And there wasn't 
 a single thing about him to suggest it but just that 
 hand-shake of his."
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 THE SERPENT AND LADY KATE 
 
 Tom Clancy said nothing to Harvard of his sus- 
 picions concerning Benton Keese. The fact was 
 that they were so vague, so devoid of logical foun- 
 dation, so literally absurd, that he gave very little 
 credence to them himself. 
 
 But Rushton took them more seriously. His of- 
 ficial experience had taught him that the "little 
 things that are counted trivial" are often the finger- 
 posts which point the way to achievement. He 
 had noticed and had mentally commented upon 
 Tom's attitude at the moment of that hand-shake. 
 He had wondered about it a little, and here was 
 the explanation; and so Rushton decided that he 
 would keep an eye upon Mr. Benton Keese for a 
 time or at least until he could satisfy himself 
 that the man from Kentucky was everything that 
 he appeared to be. 
 
 It was a coincidence that not long before Rush- 
 ton's summary dismissal from the "force" the per- 
 formance of duty had taken him to Lexington, 
 Kentucky, to bring back to New York a prisoner 
 who had been arrested there and detained; and so 
 he had made the acquaintance of the then chief 
 of police of that city. Consequently as soon as he 
 
 92
 
 THE SERPENT AND LADY KATE 93 
 
 parted with Clancy he filed a telegram to that 
 Southern official, as follows: 
 
 Approximately three or four years ago Benton 
 Keese disappeared from your community. Where 
 did he go? What became of him? Please wire 
 full information you possess concerning him and 
 his family. 
 
 Before noon of the following day he received 
 this reply: 
 
 Left here three and a half years ago, ostensi- 
 bly for China. Nothing known of him since then. 
 Doubtful if he communicated even with members 
 of his family. 
 
 Both parents have since died. Sister Elizabeth, 
 called Miss Betty, twenty-five, occupies old home- 
 stead with maiden aunt and servants. Property, 
 valued hundred thousand or so, left by will equally 
 to her and B. K. Community believes him dead. 
 Sister confident he will return. He disappeared 
 shortly after being jilted by young woman when 
 reported about to marry. 
 
 No record against him save usual escapades of 
 young gentlemen of his type, such as poker, and 
 gambling generally. Left no unpaid debts. 
 
 COCKRELL, 
 
 Chief of Police. 
 
 The message was a substantiation of the account 
 that Keese had given of himself, and Rushton took
 
 94 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 it to Clancy, explaining what he had done. Tom's 
 comment was entirely characteristic. 
 
 "I told you that it was a fool remark when I 
 made it, Rushton," he said. "Just because a chap 
 happened to grasp my hand in a certain manner I 
 immediately associated him with a forger and thief 
 with whom I had shaken hands twice only; and 
 there was not another single thing about Keese 
 not one to suggest in the remotest manner the 
 identity of the other fellow." 
 
 Lady Kate harbored no misgivings of the kind 
 that impressed Tom Clancy and Rodney Rushton; 
 but she did feel others, although they were of an 
 entirely different character. She said not a word 
 to her husband concerning them; but she thought 
 of them that night while she was composing her- 
 self to sleep, and again in the morning after Bing 
 had left her to go to the bank. 
 
 Keese had exerted an undeniable and altogether 
 uncanny influence upon her ever since her earliest 
 recollection of him. But he had been able to im- 
 press it upon her only when she was actually in 
 his presence. Away from her, outside the house 
 or the room where she happened to be, he was alto- 
 gether repugnant and repulsive. And yet she re- 
 called that morning how strangely his eyes, his 
 low-pitched voice, his deferential manner, and his 
 spoken words, which always seemed to convey a 
 double meaning, had always affected her. There 
 was an indefinable lure about him that she could 
 not avoid, and which she had infinitely dreaded dur- 
 ing the days of her young maidenhood in Kentucky
 
 THE SERPENT AND LADY KATE 95 
 
 a lure from which she had incontinently fled, fear- 
 ing with all her heart and soul that if she re- 
 mained within his environment she would one day 
 succumb to it, that the day might come when she 
 would not have the strength of purpose to deny 
 him. That was before she knew Bingham Har- 
 vard. 
 
 Since then, since the great love for the man 
 whose wife she had become had filled her with 
 happiness and content, all of the misgivings and all 
 of the indefinable fears engendered by the subtle, 
 insidious influence that Benton Keese had impressed 
 upon her against her will had been forgotten until 
 the moment when he was actually before her again, 
 looking into her secret soul (as it seemed to her) 
 with his strangely luminous eyes, speaking to her in 
 that oddly hypnotic voice, battering down her re- 
 serve with some occult force which she could neither 
 understand nor resist, and forcing his personality 
 upon her emotions in a way that frightened her 
 almost into a panic when she thought about it after- 
 ward. It was almost as if with his eyes he stripped 
 her bare of her moral clothing, as if he compelled 
 her soul to nakedness, as if he read and understood 
 her fear of him and actually gloried in it, as if he 
 were thoroughly aware of the Satanic lure he pos- 
 sessed for her. It was as if he knew that she hated 
 it and him; and also that she feared both it and 
 him. It was, in effect, the tale of the serpent 
 and the fluttering bird retold and humanized. 
 
 In her presence Benton Keese at once became
 
 96 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 the primitive man, and the very force and master- 
 fulness of him brought to the surface of Kath- 
 erine's consciousness, resentfully and utterly against 
 her will, the primitive, unstudied, totally unknown 
 and uncomprehended emotions which nobody but 
 this man had the power to uncover. His big, softly 
 luminous eyes seemed to possess arms and fingers 
 and muscles that could reach out invisibly and em- 
 brace her, that could hold her, that could momen- 
 tarily quell her resentment and compel her to return 
 his unspoken messages in kind, even though she 
 hated herself for doing so. She could feel his 
 personality mentally embracing and holding her to 
 him across the width of a room, even when he did 
 not look at her; and yet she could not remember 
 that he had ever uttered a word to her or committed 
 an act against her that she could have resented 
 with spoken words. 
 
 But Benton Keese did not have to use words 
 or to commit acts to convey the messages that 
 radiated from his eyes, and, indeed, from his whole 
 lithe, athletic, and handsome physical presence. He 
 drew her forcefully and forcibly as the magnet 
 draws a steel needle, and she hated and feared 
 him most of all whenever that almost irresistible 
 attraction influenced her. 
 
 Katherine was restless all that morning after his 
 call. She wandered from room to room in her 
 home the home that had once been Sterling Ches- 
 ter's, and which he had given to her as a wedding 
 present. She feared Keese might take it upon him- 
 self to call again upon her without announcement,
 
 THE SERPENT AND LADY KATE 97 
 
 and she gave orders that she was "not at home" 
 to anybody that day. 
 
 Toward noon she considered seriously the idea 
 of going down to the bank and confiding all of 
 her doubts and misgivings to Bingham; but dis- 
 missed the thought almost as soon as it was born. 
 Later she decided to write a message to Benton 
 Keese in which she could tell him plainly that a 
 renewal of their old-time friendly associations 
 would be impossible. Then she dismissed that de- 
 cision, for she knew perfectly well that he would 
 thoroughly understand the meaning and the mo- 
 tives that were behind such an act, and that he 
 would gloat over it in secret. She realized that it 
 would be, in a sense, a confession of her fear of 
 him and that it would give him an added con- 
 fidence in his uncanny power over her. 
 
 Shortly after two in the afternoon she went out. 
 She had herself driven to Altman's store, where 
 she dismissed the chauffeur, saying that she would 
 return in the Fifth Avenue 'bus. From Altman's 
 she went to Tiffany's for a jewel that was being 
 reset for her. When she came outside again Ben- 
 ton Keese was standing near the entrance exactly 
 as if he had been awaiting her. 
 
 Katherine flushed, grew pale, and flushed again 
 when he flashed his brilliant eyes upon her, raised 
 his hat, and stepped nearer to her with extended 
 hand which she could not ignore. 
 
 "This is indeed a pleasant surprise, Kitten en- 
 countering you here," he said in his softest tones. 
 
 "Kitten" was a name of childhood that had
 
 98 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 clung to her throughout the neighborhood of her 
 Kentucky home. It was quite natural that Keese 
 should make use of it, although she resented it 
 bitterly even while she smiled a reluctant welcome 
 into his glowing, speaking eyes. 
 
 "I was waiting for you, I think, although I did 
 not know that you were in there. Shall we walk 
 up the avenue?" 
 
 Apparently he did not expect a reply, or he took 
 an affirmative for granted; and although she hated 
 herself for doing it, she nevertheless walked beside 
 him without question. 
 
 "I was passing just strolling down the avenue," 
 he added a moment later. "I sensed your nearness, 
 Kitten, and I stopped and waited. And lo! in a 
 moment more you appeared. It is quite wonder- 
 ful, isn't it, this telepathic communication between 
 two persons who happen to be thinking of each 
 other at the same moment?"
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 TWO CAN PLAY AT THE SAME GAME 
 
 Three blocks farther north, at the corner of 
 Fortieth Street, Katherine stopped. 
 
 "I shall take the 'bus here," she said with deci- 
 sion. She was angry with herself because she had 
 permitted Benton Keese to accompany her even 
 that short distance; disturbed, too, by the fact that 
 she was aware of a subconscious pleasure she ex- 
 perienced because he was beside her; and she was 
 still considering abstractly that remark of his about 
 telepathy. Was there could there be such a thing 
 as a form of telepathic communication between 
 herself and this man? 
 
 The thought of it was disquieting. It contained 
 an active menace against her continued peace of 
 mind. For Lady Kate knew that she had been 
 thinking about Benton Keese nearly all that day; 
 she knew that her mind had been more particularly 
 upon him since she came downtown while she was 
 in Altaian's, and again on the avenue and at Tif- 
 fany's. She had feared and dreaded just that sort 
 of an encounter with him ; and behold, it had come 
 to pass. Was it possible, she asked herself, that 
 her thoughts of him had drawn him inevitably to 
 her in spite of her abhorrence of the mysterious 
 attraction ? 
 
 99
 
 100 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 Her emotions concerning him were not unlike 
 that impulse which many persons experience when 
 peering from a great height into an abyss be- 
 neath. 
 
 The unnatural cravings to leap off into space, 
 to test the height, to dive into the depths, to ex- 
 perience the unknown emotion of falling through 
 limitless distance to the uttermost bottom and to 
 feel the shock of oblivion at the end of it, were 
 clamoring within her consciousness and so also 
 was the shuddering horror of the consequences. 
 In metaphor Katherine was actually poised upon a 
 pinnacle above a bottomless abyss whenever she 
 was in propinquity with Benton Keese. His fath- 
 omless, caressing eyes spoke without words the in- 
 vitation to her to make the leap. And alas! she 
 knew that whenever her own gaze was inevitably 
 drawn to meet his it responded. She hated her- 
 self for it, but she could not deny it nor quell it, 
 nor could she keep her gaze diverted. There was 
 something about his nearness which forcibly drew 
 to the surface of her own nature every elemental 
 impulse of her flesh and bone and blood; and it 
 was all the more terrible in its vague suggestive- 
 ness, because it was so utterly mysterious, so en- 
 tirely unknown, and so foreign to every desire she 
 had otherwise or elsewhere craved. 
 
 "I will ride with you," he replied ; and Katherine 
 could not have told why she found it quite im- 
 possible to deny him, save that downright rudeness 
 on her part could alone have repulsed him. 
 They went inside the 'bus and rode in silence for
 
 TWO CAN PLAY AT THE SAME GAME 101 
 
 a time; then he announced, as if there had been 
 no hiatus in their conversation: 
 
 "You will be glad to see my sister Betty again, 
 of course. You used to be such great friends. I 
 telegraphed to her last night to come here. At 
 noon to-day I received a reply. She will arrive to- 
 morrow morning." 
 
 "Oh!" Katherine exclaimed with genuine pleas- 
 ure. "I am glad." 
 
 Then impulsively, and before she could think 
 twice of the possible consequences: "You must 
 bring her directly to me, Benton. A hotel would 
 be no place for her; but with me " 
 
 She stopped, confused. A partial realization of 
 the privileges which the invitation would also ex- 
 tend to the brother startled her. She had intended 
 to find a way to avoid him in the future, to deny 
 him at her home, but it was too late to do that. 
 The invitation was already given, was already ac- 
 cepted. With Betty as her guest, Benton Keese 
 would quite naturally hold the open sesame to her 
 home. 
 
 They got down from the 'bus at the corner near- 
 est the house. Keese walked with her to the door. 
 Then he followed her inside without awaiting an 
 invitation to do so. He took it for granted, ac- 
 cepted as a privilege that belonged to him. He 
 made use of the hospitable customs of the South, 
 and ignored the empty formalities of Northern eti- 
 quette. 
 
 "It is kind of you, Kitten," he began; but she 
 interrupted him with impatience.
 
 102 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 "I don't want you to use that name," she said 
 shortly; and he smiled and bowed his assurance 
 that he would not offend again, adding, as if there 
 had been no interruption : 
 
 "Most considerate of you to ask Betty to come 
 here. I will confess that I had thought you might 
 do so." He did not think it necessary to add that 
 he had sent for his sister for that express reason. 
 
 "She had never visited New York when I went 
 away; I doubt if she has done so since. Perhaps 
 I can induce you to go with me to the station to 
 meet her at ten to-morrow morning?" 
 
 "No," Katherine replied quickly. "But I will go 
 alone to meet her, if you will defer your own re- 
 union till later." 
 
 And so it was arranged. Strangely enough, too, 
 that careless acquiescence in an impulsive sugges- 
 tion was chiefly instrumental in directing the des- 
 tinies of at least two lives in being and others yet 
 unborn. Also although nobody even dreamed of 
 such a thing it provided the first step in the ulti- 
 mate success of Rodney Rushton's effort to "make 
 good." 
 
 Benton Keese was far too wise to linger in Lady 
 Kate's presence that afternoon. He rose to take 
 his leave as soon as Betty's reception and entertain- 
 ment at Katherine's home was arranged. Kate 
 gave him her hand in parting when he put out his 
 own, and he held it rather longer than was nec- 
 essary not forcibly, but with a warm pressure 
 which for some unknown reason she found irre- 
 sistible. It was neither offensive nor suggestive,
 
 TWO CAN PLAY AT THE SAME GAME 105 
 
 and yet it set her hand and arm to tingling, and 
 her pulse a-throbbing, so that she started away 
 from him and turned her head to hide the flush 
 that she knew had swept into her face. 
 
 "Dear little playmate," he said softly, as if to 
 himself; and turned and went swiftly from the 
 room. 
 
 Lady Kate stood quite still after he had gone, 
 a frown between her eyes, her lips in a tightly 
 drawn line of self-derision. Then she crossed the 
 room and stood before a mirror that gave back 
 a full-length reflection of herself. 
 
 "What is it? What can it be within me that 
 responds so riotously to Benton Keese's lightest 
 word or touch when I know deep down in my 
 heart of hearts that I loathe and despise and hate 
 him, as I have always done since my earliest recol- 
 lection?" she asked of her own image mentally. 
 
 "Why am I, who have never known fear of any 
 other, horribly afraid of this one man? And what 
 is it about him that I fear?" 
 
 She turned from the mirror without attempting 
 an answer to any of her unspoken questions, and 
 with her hand at the knob of the door she stopped 
 again. This time she murmured spoken words, 
 scarcely aloud, but audible to herself. 
 
 "After all," she said, "it is not the man I fear; 
 it is myself. And I will be afraid no more." 
 
 Benton Keese, strolling leisurely down the ave- 
 nue, gazed complacently toward the green foliage 
 of the park, and told himself unctuously, if men- 
 tally:
 
 104 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 "If I had persevered in my effort to find her she 
 would never have married Bingham Harvard. She 
 would have fluttered into my arms like a bird. 
 
 "But it would not have sufficed then. I was 
 poor rotten poor then. Now I am rich. And," 
 he chuckled audibly, "it is never too late to mend. 
 Never! Perhaps who knows? perhaps " 
 
 His mental commentary stopped at that point, 
 but the perspective, thinly veiled from his egoistic 
 vision, was, at the least, not at all disturbing. 
 
 Somewhat farther down the avenue Keese, al- 
 though he was walking slowly, overtook and was 
 in the act of passing another pedestrian who 
 seemed to be in even less haste than himself; but 
 having a quick eye and being by nature discern- 
 ing, he recognized the broad shoulders and the back 
 of the other man even before he had advanced far 
 enough to observe the profile. 
 
 "How do you do, Mr. Rushton?" Keese inquired 
 blandly and in his softest tones. He really pos- 
 sessed a wonderfully attractive voice. Rushton 
 gave a start of well-assumed surprise. 
 
 "Why hello!" he returned. "You are er 
 
 mister Names always get my goat, somehow ; 
 
 but I met you last evening at Mr. Harvard's. Glad 
 to see you again. 
 
 "Ah ! Now I have it. You are Mr. Keese, from 
 Kentucky." 
 
 "Quite right, Mr. Rushton. Fine day, isn't it? 
 You reside in this neighborhood, I assume." 
 
 "Me! Not so's you could notice it, Mr. Keese. 
 My income wouldn't stand the strain of livin'
 
 TWO CAN PLAY AT THE SAME GAME 105 
 
 around here. But I've got friends who do. Say! 
 After bein' in China two 'r three V more years, 
 it must seem kinda good to you to hit the pave- 
 ments of little old New York again. Huh?" 
 
 "It certainly does, although I must confess that 
 I never knew very much about this city of yours." 
 
 Thus they chatted idly together until Fifty-ninth 
 Street was reached, where Rushton uttered a hasty 
 word of parting and boarded a west-bound car. 
 
 Benton Keese stood for some time at the curb 
 on the corner gazing after the blue car that was 
 bearing Rushton away. His eyes were narrowed; 
 they would have impressed an observer as being 
 introspective, rather than interested in the moving 
 car and its latest passenger. But presently they 
 resumed their normal fullness and softness behind 
 the round, shell-rimmed glasses, and a slow smile 
 showed at the corners of his mobile lips. 
 
 "That chap was watching me. I wonder why?" 
 was his mental comment as he crossed the street 
 and entered the Savoy, where he sought the cafe. 
 He ordered a toddy, which he sipped slowly while 
 he thought on : 
 
 "He wears the earmarks, or the hallmarks, of 
 a typical New York cop; and that hair-cut looks 
 to me like it was done without his asking for it and 
 without cost to him either." 
 
 Keese paid for his drink, called a taxi, and had 
 himself driven to the Hotel Mammoth, where he 
 occupied a suite of rooms. From the suite he made 
 use of the telephone and called a number that was 
 printed on a card that he took from one of his
 
 106 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 pockets the card of a somewhat obscure detective 
 agency which (whether Keese was aware of it 
 or not) was none too particular about the charac- 
 ter of its investigations. 
 
 Within half an hour another card was taken to 
 him. It bore merely the written inscription : "Mr. 
 Roland." But inasmuch as that other card from 
 which he had taken the telephone number was in- 
 scribed with the name of -"The Roland Detective 
 Agency," it may be surmised who the dapper little 
 man was that was presently admitted to Suite 777. 
 
 "Be seated, Mr. Roland," Keese said, indicating 
 a chair. "I assume that you are at the head of the 
 detective agency that has been so highly recom- 
 mended to me?" 
 
 "Yes, sir. I am Mr. Dudley Roland. I am 
 the proprietor and the general manager of the 
 agency; and I may say that " 
 
 "Never mind your assurances of excellence. 
 You shall have an opportunity to establish that. I 
 shall probably require more or less service from 
 you for a few weeks. Just now I want some quick 
 information which I have no doubt you already 
 possess. 
 
 "Has there been, within your recollection, a man 
 connected with the New York police whose name 
 was Rodney Rushton? I want all the information 
 concerning him that you may happen now to pos- 
 sess." 
 
 "Yes, sir. He was a detective-lieutenant at the 
 headquarters bureau until about two years ago. 
 Then they got something 'on' him and he was
 
 TWO CAN PLAY AT THE SAME GAME 107 
 
 dumped. He was mixed up in the robbery of a 
 bank " 
 
 "What bank?" 
 
 "The Centropolis." 
 
 "Oh. Well, what more?" 
 
 "He was indicted, tried, convicted, sent to prison, 
 and served nearly two years of a long sentence. 
 Only the other day he was released on parole. If 
 you had been reading the papers you wouldn't have 
 had to ask me about it, Mr. Keese." 
 
 "Never mind that. What more is there to tell 
 me?" 
 
 "If you should ask me why he was released on 
 parole, or what is expected of him in return for it, 
 I'd have to tell you frankly that I can't even guess 
 at the reason. Only it strikes me as a bit funny 
 all around, because the man who was behind it was 
 the very man that Rushton had wronged the most. 
 It was he Harvard is his name; he used to be 
 called the Night Wind, but I'll tell you about that 
 later who interested the district attorney in the 
 matter, and so got Rushton out." 
 
 "So. I see," Keese meditated aloud. 
 
 "Well, Mr. Dudley Roland, I will give you three 
 days in which to find out for me the true reason 
 why Rodney Rushton was paroled from prison, 
 and why the district attorney deemed it wise to 
 recommend such an act. Do you think you can 
 do it?" 
 
 "Yes, sir. I think I can," was the confident 
 reply.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 SHE CAME FROM OLD KENTUCKY 
 
 Katherine in passing through the Pennsylvania 
 Station just before ten o'clock next morning met 
 Tom Clancy, who was hurrying in the opposite 
 direction. He stopped, however, and shook hands 
 with her, hat in hand, while he explained that he 
 had gone to the station to see a friend off who was 
 o be a long time absent, that he was already far 
 jverdue at his office; and all in the same breath 
 demanded in his usual impetuous way what it could 
 be that had taken her there at that hour of the 
 morning. 
 
 "I won't tell you, but I will show you, Tom," 
 she replied mischievously. "That is, if the multi- 
 tude of affairs at your office can stand the strain 
 of waiting another half hour upon your arrival 
 there." 
 
 "Huh!" said Tom; and turned about to return 
 with her. "I don't think any cataclysms would 
 happen if I should not show up down there at all. 
 I assume, from your manner, that you are here to 
 meet somebody. Eh?" 
 
 She nodded. "Quite the prettiest girl I ever 
 knew," she assured him. 
 
 "I don't like 'pretty' girls," he told her. 
 
 "The most beautiful, then." 
 108
 
 SHE CAME FROM OLD KENTUCKY 109 
 
 "That sounds better; but- 
 
 "And altogether the most charming, fascinating, 
 alluring, puzzling, inviting and elusive creature I 
 can imagine." 
 
 "Then my business can go hang," Tom an- 
 nounced with decision. "With all of those pro- 
 nouncements tagged upon her your expected friend 
 must be a wonder. Who is she?" 
 
 "Wait until you have seen her," was the enig- 
 matical reply. 
 
 The expected train was on time, and presently 
 Tom Clancy saw a vision of loveliness that would 
 have made him gasp with pleased astonishment 
 anywhere rush into the embrace of Lady Kate and 
 cling to her with affectionate enthusiasm. A steady 
 flow of the softest and most entrancing Southern 
 exclamations of pleasure and endearment that he 
 had ever heard rippled from the lips of the girl. 
 
 "I certainly am right glad to see you, Kittie, 
 dear," was one of the many things that Tom over- 
 heard while he awaited an opportunity to be intro- 
 duced. 
 
 "Ben telegraphed to me that you would meet 
 me at the station and that you meant to take me 
 home with you so that I wouldn't have to go to a 
 horrid hotel." 
 
 Miss Betty's words flowed on in her eagerness 
 and delignt, each sentence ending in that exquisite 
 and inimitable drawl which must be born with the 
 tongue and can never be acquired by an outsider. 
 But there did come a pause even in the mutual en- 
 thusiasm of the two girls for Katherine was as
 
 much the girl as Betty and the affection between 
 them had always been very genuine and deep and 
 the opportunity for which Clancy was waiting 
 came. 
 
 "Tom," Katherine said, disengaging herself, "I 
 want to present you to Miss Betty Keese. She 
 is my dearest friend. We were playmates in child- 
 hood, schoolmates in girlhood, and chums ever 
 since either of us can remember. 
 
 "Betty, this is Mr. Clancy. He stands in just 
 about the same relation to my husband that you do 
 to me. And I do so want you two to be good 
 friends." 
 
 "It's up to Miss Keese, then," Tom replied, with 
 his inimitable and engaging smile. "I am captive 
 already." 
 
 Betty smiled delightfully entrancingly, Tom 
 thought as she put her small, gloved hand into 
 Clancy's. Her seal-brown eyes sparkled, and the 
 dimples that showed in her cheeks seemed almost 
 to possess eyes of their own, they were so fasci- 
 natingly alluring. 
 
 "Oh, I reckon that we will be good friends," 
 she assured them both, dimpling and smiling even 
 more brightly. "I can see that you like Mr. Clancy 
 immensely, Kittie, and that is all the recommenda- 
 tion / need. 
 
 "Where is Benton? Isn't he here to meet me, 
 too?" 
 
 The question came like something of a shock to 
 Tom. He had heard the name of Keese when Betty 
 was introduced, and he had repeated it ; but he had
 
 SHE CAME FROM OLD KENTUCKY 111 
 
 not, for some unknown reason, associated it with 
 the Benton Keese whom he had met at Bingham 
 Harvard's house and whom, he suddenly remem- 
 bered, he had instinctively distrusted and disliked. 
 Looking upon her again as she turned once more 
 toward Katherine and admiring her personal charm, 
 her lithe, small figure, and her perfect features 
 more gravely and critically than he had done at 
 first, he discovered instantly the unmistakable 
 likeness she bore to her handsome brother. 
 
 "Whatever the brother may prove to be, there 
 is no doubt about the physical and spiritual loveli- 
 ness of the sister," was his mental comment. 
 
 And when, later he undertook to analyze the 
 actual estimate in which he held Benton Keese, he 
 did that person as well as himself the justice to 
 admit (to himself) that there was no plausible rea- 
 son why he should not regard Miss Betty's brother 
 with the utmost friendliness. 
 
 "Tom," Katherine asked, when the three were 
 walking through the station toward the street, "do 
 you remember that you once asked me if I had a 
 sister to whom you might be properly presented?" 
 
 "Perfectly," he replied, nodding and smiling. 
 And he added coolly: "I also remember why I 
 asked you. It was because Bing found you first 
 
 and I thought, possibly, if you did have a sister 
 
 Words fail me, Katherine." 
 
 Lady Kate laughed outright and frankly. Betty 
 shot a glance of mischief from the corners of her 
 eyes at Tom, and Lady Kate continued : 
 
 "Behold her, Thomas Clancy. For in everything
 
 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 save the tie of blood, Betty and I are sisters in- 
 deed; and there is Julius with the car. Hurry to 
 your business, Tom, and come to dinner with us 
 this evening." 
 
 "By Jove!" Clancy commented to himself after 
 they were driven away. "By Jove!" he muttered 
 again as he hurried toward the "L" station at 
 Thirty-third street. "By Jove!" he repeated aloud 
 inside the car. 
 
 And presently an acquaintance who happened to 
 be seated opposite stepped across the car and 
 dropped down upon a seat beside him that had just 
 been vacated. 
 
 "Hello, Tom!" he said laughing. "This is the 
 first time I knew that you had ever been 'make-up' 
 editor on a newspaper. When was it? How long 
 ago was it?" 
 
 "What's the answer?" Clancy inquired, shaking 
 hands. 
 
 "You are reading your morning paper upside 
 down. Only make-up men do that." 
 
 "Oh! I see. That's so. Well, you see, I have 
 just been sort of turned upside down myself and 
 I suppose that accounts for it." 
 
 Inside of the automobile that had taken the two 
 young women from the station and at approxi- 
 mately the same time Katherine was asking: 
 
 "Well, Betty, don't you think he's nice?" 
 
 "I certainly do, Kittie that is, if you happen 
 to mean Mr. Clancy," the Kentucky girl replied 
 frankly. "If your Northern men are all like him 
 well, I shall just naturally fall in love with all
 
 SHE CAME FROM OLD KENTUCKY 113 
 
 of them. But you might have waited until I had 
 really arrived and had had an opportunity to make 
 myself a little more presentable before you tried 
 to throw me right at him." 
 
 "Oh, I did not invite Tom Clancy to be present, 
 Betty. I shouldn't have permitted you to see each 
 other for at least a week if I had had my own way 
 about it. He was just there, that's all." 
 
 "He isn't exactly what you might call hand- 
 some," Betty commented mischievously, after a 
 pause. "His hair is almost red ; he has got a turn- 
 up nose, and he wears freckles, and " 
 
 "But, dear, did you ever see more beautiful 
 teeth in a man's head? and such straightforward, 
 earnest eyes when they're not twinkling? And 
 such shoulders? and and and " 
 
 "It's a wonder that he didn't get you, Kittie, 
 instead of the man who did," Betty broke in when 
 words failed Katherine; and she added, without 
 waiting for comment upon what she had said: 
 
 "You never did get over your aversion for Ben- 
 ton, did you? Poor Benton! Why every girl in 
 four counties Bourbon, Fayette, Scott and Har- 
 rison would have given up their eye-teeth to get 
 him, the only one that he really wanted just plain, 
 sure-enough, ran away from him without so much 
 as saying good-by. Do you know, Kittie, that 
 there were heaps of times when I came mighty 
 near to breaking my word with you and telling 
 Benton where you were. Yes, indeed." 
 
 "But you did not do it, Betty." 
 
 "No, dear. And I am glad now; for one has
 
 114 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 only to look at you to see that you are perfectly 
 happy." 
 
 "I am. Yes, indeed, I am. I have got the best 
 husband, and the handsomest, and the " 
 
 "I know all the rest of it, dear, and I don't 
 doubt any of it; not in the least. But all the same, 
 Kittie, I have got one bit of right good advice to 
 give you." 
 
 "What is it?" Katherine asked, without turning 
 her head, keeping her eyes directed toward the 
 street. 
 
 "It's this: I don't believe that Benton has 
 changed a bit, so far as you are concerned. He 
 went away not very long after you disappeared, 
 and I have not set my eyes upon him in all the 
 time since then. But I know that he was just mad 
 about you, dear; and I know Benton Keese, my 
 brother though he is." 
 
 "That is not advice." 
 
 "No; it's a statement with this much added: 
 He wants you right now just as much as he ever 
 wanted you. Benton did not ask me to come here 
 because he cared a picayune about my pleasure. 
 He sent for me because he knew that when he told 
 you he had done so you would immediately invite 
 me to go to your home ; and if / am there, of course 
 he can drop in at any old time he wants to, with- 
 out regard to conventions. I am the catspaw; you 
 are the chestnut, and your home is the fire that 
 you're to be pulled out of or I don't know my 
 own fascinating, handsome, accomplished, and sub- 
 tle brother."
 
 SHE CAME FROM OLD KENTUCKY 115 
 
 "Nonsense, Betty," Katherine exclaimed, but 
 there was little mirth in the laughter. She felt an 
 odd shiver of apprehension as the result of the 
 outspoken comment of her friend. "I haven't 
 heard the advice even yet, dear." 
 
 "I'll give it to you in five words : send me to a 
 hotel." 
 
 "Why, Betty Keese " 
 
 "Oh, I know you won't do it, but you should, 
 all the same. You just cannot shut your door 
 against Ben when I am there, but you should do 
 so, all the same. You cannot avoid giving him op- 
 portunities to make love to you as long as he can 
 come and go as he pleases; and you can take my 
 word for it that he will make love to you every 
 time that he has the merest ghost of a chance." 
 
 "Betty, if he should dare to attempt such a 
 thing " 
 
 "Kittie, dear," the Kentucky girl interrupted 
 hastily, "don't you know that he won't make love 
 to you as other men would do it? Don't you 
 know how subtle he is? Don't you know that he 
 will never say or do a thing to offend you or to 
 which you can take offense? 
 
 "Have you ever noticed a dog when it plays with 
 a stick in its master's hand, and how the dog 
 will keep right on seizing the stick a little bit higher 
 up and nearer to the hand that plays with it, every 
 chance it gets?" 
 
 "Elizabeth Keese, you ought to be ashamed of 
 yourself to talk about your brother in such a man-
 
 116 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 ner, and about me, too !" Katharine exclaimed, dis- 
 turbed and half in anger. 
 
 "Dear," Betty replied soberly, "I love my brother 
 with all my heart, but I love you with all my 
 heart and soul, too. 
 
 "Why, Kittie, he fascinates even me, his sister, 
 when I am beside him. He is dangerous; he is 
 subtle ; he is deep and patient. And he knows how 
 to wait and how .to win by waiting. I have 
 learned several things about him since he went away 
 from home that I did not know before. And I 
 know that he is a dangerous friend for a woman 
 to have. I know, too, that I am very glad indeed 
 that you did not marry him!"
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 AN IMPORTANT SNAPSHOT 
 
 There was a consultation at the Centropolis 
 Bank, held immediately after banking hours on the 
 ninth day after the arrival in New York of the 
 real Anderson Van Cleve ; that is to say, on a Mon- 
 day. It was also the eleventh day after the first 
 appearance of Holbrook Chilton, who had repre- 
 sented himself to be Van Cleve; it was the fifth 
 day after Rushton's rehabilitation as a man. There- 
 fore, in order to keep our chronology of events 
 correctly in mind, it was the third day after the 
 advent of Betty Keese and her installation as a 
 welcome and beloved guest in the home of Bingham 
 Harvard and Lady Kate. 
 
 There were present at the conference Anderson 
 Van Cleve, Tom Clancy, Rushton, the red-haired 
 chief of the National Detective Agency which han- 
 dled the bank's affairs, his two operatives who had 
 gone there with him that day of Van Cleve's ar- 
 rival in the city, and of course Bingham Harvard 
 himself. Also, in response to her own earnest re- 
 quest (one might almost call it insistence) made 
 to her husband as soon as she knew that the con- 
 sultation was to take place, Lady Kate was there. 
 
 The meeting was held in the directors' room. It 
 117
 
 118 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 was entirely an informal affair; almost an im- 
 promptu one, in fact, and it had come about chiefly 
 because of a suggestion of {Catherine's that she had 
 made to Bingham the preceding evening. He had 
 summoned the others by telephone. Clancy was the 
 last of the lot to arrive, and he crossed immediately 
 to Lady Kate and dropped upon a chair beside her, 
 his face and eyes beaming as he demanded, sotto 
 voce: 
 
 "How is Miss Betty? And where is she? And 
 why is she not here with you, Katherine?" 
 
 Lady Kate replied demurely and with exactness, 
 but nevertheless with twinkling eyes : 
 
 "Betty is quite well. She is motoring with her 
 brother, I believe. She is not here for the very 
 good reason that she was not wanted inasmuch 
 as the reason for this conference is supposed to be 
 a secret." 
 
 "Huh !" said Tom. Then : "Do you mean to tell 
 me, my lady, that you and Miss Betty Keese of 
 Kentucky have spent more than three whole days 
 together and that you have not told her all about 
 'that dreadful thing that happened down at Bing's 
 Bank'?" 
 
 "I do not tell everybody quite all I know, Tom," 
 Katherine retorted with dignity, recognizing the 
 innuendo that women tell all their secrets to their 
 best friends, "in confidence." 
 
 "Honestly, now, Katherine," he teased, "didn't 
 you tell Miss Betty strictly in confidence, of course 
 that you could not go motoring with her and her 
 charming brother this afternoon because you had
 
 AN IMPORTANT SNAPSHOT 119 
 
 promised to meet Bingham at the bank precisely at 
 four o'clock? Answer me that?" 
 
 "Tom Clancy, I believe you have been talking to 
 Betty over the telephone!" 
 
 "I have. I wanted her to go motoring with 
 muh; and you were not included in the invitation, 
 either. I was intending to shy this meeting, shame- 
 lessly; to pretend that I had made the engagement 
 before I received the message to come here, and 
 all that. See?" 
 
 "It serves you right, then, that she could not go 
 with you." 
 
 "Maybe so. Anyhow " 
 
 "Hush. Let us hear what Mr. Van Cleve has 
 to tell us," Katherine interrupted. 
 
 "I have told several of those present individually 
 practically all that I have now to say in regard to 
 the man Holbrook Chilton, who came to this bank 
 one week ago last Thursday and succeeded in pass- 
 ing himself into the confidence of Mr. Harvard in 
 my name," Van Cleve began. 
 
 "For the general benefit of all who are here, 
 I will now refer to him as follows : 
 
 "During the few years that he was in my em- 
 ploy in Mexico I never once had occasion to doubt 
 his honesty; and yet always, instinctively or intui- 
 tively, I did doubt the man. That statement is, of 
 course, paradoxical. I doubt if I can explain it ade- 
 quately. But always during our business relations, 
 after he had left me at such times as we had been 
 discussing my affairs, certain little things concern- 
 ing his attitude and manner toward me left an un-
 
 120 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 favorable impression. It was never tangible. It 
 was never anything that I could define, even to 
 myself, in words. It never amounted to more than 
 an uneasy impression. 
 
 "Time and again I have resolved that the next 
 time I summoned him to the City of Mexico or that 
 I had occasion to seek him at the mines or at 
 whatsoever place he happened to be employed, I 
 would make a closer and more intimate study of 
 the man. But (and I realize now that this is the 
 remarkable thing about him) inevitably and without 
 exception, each and every time when I was actually 
 with him and talking to him and listening to him 
 while he talked, / was just as strongly impressed 
 in his favor; I was made to feel just as certain 
 that my misgivings about him were purest folly. 
 
 "The first time I ever saw Holbrook Chilton he 
 came to me seeking employment. I was at a hotel 
 in Morelia, the capital of the State of Michoacan, 
 at the time. He appeared then" Van Cleve 
 glanced from Bing Harvard to Tom Clancy "al- 
 most exactly like the photographs that you two gen- 
 tlemen have seen of him, which were contained with 
 the letter that I wrote and forwarded to Mr. Har- 
 vard, announcing my intention of coming North. 
 Also, like this three-and-a-quarter by four-and-a- 
 quarter snapshot that I once made of him myself." 
 
 Van Cleve paused while a small kodak picture 
 was passed around from hand to hand. It com- 
 pleted the round at Katherine, and she held it in 
 her hand when Van Cleve continued : 
 
 "The man appeared to possess the very quali-
 
 AN IMPORTANT SNAPSHOT 121 
 
 fications that I required in such an employee. Down 
 in that country we do not inquire too closely con- 
 cerning a man's antecedents. I employed him. He 
 remained steadily in my service and performed good 
 and faithful work so far as I know, until the hap- 
 pening of this circumstance. He never volunteered 
 any information about himself but once. At that 
 time he mentioned, apparently with inadvertence, 
 that he was a native of our State of Virginia. I 
 did not doubt the truth of it; I do not doubt it 
 now. I have frequently detected in his conversa- 
 tion evidences of the truth of it or I have thought 
 I did so. 
 
 "He was he is an educated man, and a tal- 
 ented one. He was a freehand artist of unusual 
 ability, but, I should say, an untrained one. In 
 other words, a natural one. Without doubt it was 
 that talent which enabled him, with practice, to 
 write my signature with such a degree of perfec- 
 tion that I would not myself have been able to dif- 
 ferentiate between one that he wrote and one that 
 I had written. But I did not know that until a 
 week ago last Saturday. 
 
 "Since these revelations concerning him have 
 come to light, I have been thinking deeply about 
 them and I have done some telegraphing to Mex- 
 ico. The pictures of Chilton came to Mr. Harvard 
 in an envelope that I addressed to him myself, and 
 which contained a letter with my own signature 
 w r hich I had just prepared. The two pictures of 
 himself that he managed to substitute for mine 
 were mounted on cabinet-size cards, which bore the
 
 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 imprint of a photographer in Mexico named 
 Llorente. 
 
 "Seiior Llorente has replied to my telegrams 
 with the statement that he did not make the pictures 
 of Chilton, but that he found, after the receipt of 
 my message, that four of his cards for mounting 
 photographs were missing. That circumstance re- 
 calls another trivial one. 
 
 "The evening of the day when I posed for my 
 own pictures I drove to Chilton's place of residence 
 in San Felipi Neri Street. As I stepped down from 
 the carriage I distinctly saw a brilliant flash of light 
 at the window of one of the two rooms which I 
 supposed to be occupied by my manager. The win- 
 dow was closely curtained, but that flash of light 
 did show through certain crevices and openings so 
 that I saw it. Chilton was, however, in the other 
 of his two rooms, engaged in rolling and lighting a 
 cigarette, when I was admitted. Doubtless he had 
 heard the carriage-wheels when I drove to the door. 
 There can be no doubt now that he was occupied in 
 making those pictures of himself that he later sent 
 here. Another message to the chief of police of 
 Mexico City, who happens to be a friend, has 
 brought a reply which states that he visited the 
 house in San Felipe Neri in response to my request, 
 and that he found there a complete and valuable 
 photographing outfit. 
 
 "I mention these things, not because they are of 
 particular consequence to our investigation just 
 now, but as evidence of the undoubted fact that 
 Chilton had for a long time been preparing for
 
 AN IMPORTANT SNAPSHOT 123 
 
 some such move as the one he eventually carried 
 out My own belief is that he intended to murder 
 me, or to have me killed down there, so that I 
 never would return to this city of New York. But 
 that the suddenness of my announcement of inten- 
 tion to leave the country precipitated matters for 
 him so that he was forced to act quickly. It is a 
 fact and it may interest you to know it that a 
 very pronounced effort was made to kill me just 
 before I succeeded in getting away from the City 
 of Mexico. 
 
 "Now, my friends, Holbrook Chilton was with- 
 out doubt an assumed name. It is quite possible 
 that his remark that he was a native of Virginia 
 which I thought to be a 'break,' at the time was 
 a carefully studied statement. But there can be no 
 doubt whatever that the man was Southern born. 
 There are certain twists of the tongue in that sec- 
 tion of our splendid country which cannot be mis- 
 taken, and which can never be acquired nor cor- 
 rectly imitated. 
 
 "Lastly (and this will close my somewhat lengthy 
 statement), looking back upon my association with 
 Holbrook Chilton, I am convinced of the follow- 
 ing points : 
 
 "His hair was naturally dark, but I believe he 
 dyed it the jet-black it was down there. Sun and 
 wind and exposure did not tan his complexion to 
 the leathery hue it assumed before and retained 
 while he was in my employ. It was created, I be- 
 lieve, by a stain or a pigment, which, in fact, pro- 
 tected his skin. When he did away with it, shaved
 
 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 off his beard, cut his hair, and restored it to its 
 natural color, he would become a changed man en- 
 tirely. 
 
 "Finally, he was the coolest man and, I might 
 truthfully add, one of the bravest men I ever saw 
 in the face of danger. He courted it. Nothing 
 rattled him. And there was a certain indefinable 
 charm about his personality which was experienced 
 by every man or woman who came in contact with 
 him. In short, my friends, Chilton was and is now, 
 wherever he may be, a thoroughgoing egotist, and 
 I am convinced that that trail will keep him has 
 kept him close to the scene of his latest (perhaps 
 his only) exploit. 
 
 "Now, if there are questions concerning him or 
 his relations with me that occur to any of you, 
 please ask them." 
 
 There was a short interval of silence after Van 
 Cleve had finished, and it was Lady Kate who put 
 the first question. She did not raise her eyes to 
 Van Cleve when she spoke, but kept them fixed upon 
 the small photograph that she held in her hand. 
 Every eye in the room turned toward her quickly, 
 but she appeared to be unconscious of the fact. 
 
 "I have noticed, and I have been taught," she 
 said, prefacing her question, "that every adult per- 
 son, man or woman, is addicted to some character- 
 istic gesture or mannerism or figure of speech or 
 exclamation to express surprise, pleasure, astonish- 
 ment, anger, or satisfaction. Your association with 
 Holbrook Chilton, Mr. Van Cleve, spanned a con- 
 siderable period. During it, being an observant
 
 AN IMPORTANT SNAPSHOT 125 
 
 man, you should have noticed such a characteristic 
 gesture, mannerism, or verbal expression, if there 
 was one. Can you give us any information as to 
 that point?" 
 
 "Very little, if any. The man was always 
 strangely self-possessed ; oddly motionless when not 
 actually engaged in doing something; enigmatically 
 expressionless when not actually giving expression 
 to something he was saying or doing. He had no 
 nervous habits; rather, he gave me the impression 
 of being without nerves. Really, I can recall only 
 one act of his which might be called a mannerism 
 or a characteristic act and even that one would 
 be of little service to us here in the North. 
 
 "He always rolled his cigarettes between the sec- 
 ond and third fingers, instead of between the first 
 fingers and thumbs; and always he rolled them 
 backward. I have never seen anybody else do it in 
 exactly that way." 
 
 Lady Kate, still with her eyes directed upon the 
 picture she held in her hand, replied evenly: 
 
 "The first part of your answer is the reply to my 
 question, Mr. Van Cleve. Thank you." 
 
 Rushton, in his corner, nodded a vehement af- 
 firmative and shot a glance of admiration toward 
 Katherine.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 THE PICTURE OF HOLBROOK CHILTON 
 
 Katharine addressed her next question to the red- 
 haired chief of the National Detective Agency. 
 
 "Please give us," she said, "a brief account of 
 what you have learned concerning the movements 
 of Chilton after the moment when he went out of 
 my husband's office at 11.30 A. M., one week ago 
 last Friday." 
 
 "He spent two or three hours in going from 
 bank to bank and changing one-thousand-dollar 
 bills into smaller currency. He ultimately returned 
 to his hotel, paid his bill, drove to the Grand Cen- 
 tral Station, purchased a ticket and a Pullman com- 
 partment for Chicago, and departed. He went into 
 the dining-car as soon as it was available. He re- 
 turned to his compartment immediately afterward, 
 told the porter that he was not to be disturbed until 
 morning, and locked himself inside. There is no 
 authentic account of his having been seen again 
 after that time ; no report of any person not other- 
 wise accounted for leaving that car or that train 
 while it was on its way to Chicago. 
 
 "When he did not appear the following morning, 
 and made no response to repeated summonses at 
 his door, it was opened with a duplicate key. The 
 man had disappeared, and with him the smaller of 
 
 126
 
 PICTURE OF HOLBROOK CHILTON 127 
 
 the two satchels he had taken aboard of the train. 
 That smaller satchel without doubt contained the 
 money he had drawn from this bank." 
 
 "And from me, also," Tom Clancy interposed. 
 "Don't forget that little item of thirty-six thou- 
 sand." 
 
 "All of the clothing he had worn when he went 
 aboard of the train, even to underclothing, hand- 
 kerchiefs, collar, tie, et cetera, was found in the 
 larger of the two satchels that he left in the com- 
 partment," continued the chief. 
 
 "There had been six towels in the rack when 
 he took possession of the room. All of them were 
 missing save one; and that one had been used to 
 wipe the woodwork, the nickeled basin and plumb- 
 ing, the window, and every sort of smooth surface 
 which might have retained the imprint of one of his 
 thumbs or fingers. The compartment was in per- 
 fect order. The berth had not been occupied. He 
 had closed it up, apparently, immediately after he 
 locked himself in. 
 
 "Of course, the assumption is that the larger 
 satchel contained all the clothing he required for 
 the change he made ; that he shaved himself, cut his 
 own hair, washed the stain from his face and left 
 behind him every article that had been associated 
 with him in the character of Holbrook Chilton." 
 
 "One moment, please," Katherine interposed at 
 that point. "Was that train made up entirely of 
 Pullman cars?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "It made stops where?"
 
 "Poughkeepsie, Albany, Utica, Syracuse, Roches- 
 ter, Buffalo." 
 
 "Is it not practically impossible for a passenger 
 to leave or to enter one of the cars of a 'solid 
 Pullman' train, particularly during the night, with- 
 out particular notice being taken of either fact by 
 one of the porters or by the Pullman conductor?" 
 
 "It is supposed to be entirely impossible." 
 
 "Then, in your opinion, chief and your experi- 
 ence has been wide how did Holbrook Chilton get 
 down from that train without the fact being noticed 
 and remembered?" 
 
 "He did not leave from the off-side of the train 
 between two cars where the doors had not been 
 opened, because he could not have closed a door and 
 lowered the platform into place from the outside 
 afterward. He must have got off the train in the 
 regular way, and have walked calmly past one or 
 two porters, and probably the Pullman conductor, 
 also, when he did so; and he must have had his 
 small satchel in his hand at the time. How did he 
 accomplish it?" 
 
 "I'd like to answer that question, Lady Kate," 
 said Rushton. 
 
 Every eye in the room was directed toward him. 
 They waited in silence for him to continue. 
 
 "I've doped it out like this see?" Rushton went 
 on. "He had figger'd ahead on that getaway the 
 same's he'd figger'd ahead on the pictures, and the 
 identification here in this bank." 
 
 "Well, Rushton?" It was Bing Harvard who 
 bent forward and put the eager question.
 
 PICTURE OF HOLBROOK CHILTON 129 
 
 "Chilton worked on a time schedule, same's they 
 run trains on a railroad, from the minute he hit 
 this town till he blew out of it. As Lady Kate 
 says, 'twa'n't possible for him to drop off that train 
 without being noticed. Well, then, there was only 
 one way just one that he could 'a' done it." 
 
 "How was that?" Harvard asked. 
 
 "I don't know," Rushton replied; and added: 
 "But if / had been in his place, and had figger'd 
 ahead on it as he did, I know how / would 'a' 
 done it." 
 
 "Tell us, then." 
 
 "He didn't lock himself in that stateroom till 
 after the train pulled out of Albany. He had to 
 work like sixty to accomplish all he did and to get 
 ready to leave it at Syracuse. Maybe he went on 
 to Rochester. Anyhow, that's what I'd have done. 
 I would have bought a ticket and reserved a lower 
 berth or a seat in a smoking compartment on that 
 train from Syracuse to Rochester several days 
 ahead of time and I'd have gone to Syracuse to 
 do it. I'd have had that ticket and reservation in- 
 side of my jeans before I ever showed up at this 
 bank and I'd have made the reservation of a state- 
 room out of New York in the name of Chilton a 
 day 'r two ahead of time, too. I'd have made the 
 changes, shaved an' done the rest of it that had to 
 be done between Albany and Syracuse. 
 
 "At Syracuse, bein' ready, I'd have peeked out 
 o' the stateroom, then slid outside and locked the 
 door after me. Then I'd have drifted through the 
 car toward the one in which I knew my reservation
 
 130 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 to be, from Syracuse to Rochester, and which I 
 had previously located. When I passed a platform 
 where the doors were opened to the station, I'd 
 have called down to the porter 'r the Pullman con- 
 ductor standin' at the step before the open door and 
 I'd have asked : 'Say! Where's car two?' (or three, 
 or whatever it was) ; and I'd have given the im- 
 pression, although I wouldn't have said so, that I 
 had come aboard of the train at one of the other 
 open doors. See? That wouldn't have excited no 
 comment, nor notice, nor remark. 
 
 "Bimeby, after the train started on, the conductor 
 would have hunted me for my ticket. I'd have 
 cussed some because I had to make that night trip 
 when there wasn't time to make it worth while to 
 go to bed and I'd have walked off of the train 
 like any other regular passenger when she blew 
 into the station at Rochester." 
 
 Rushton turned to the chief of the agency. 
 
 "If I had been on your job as soon as you was, 
 chief, I'd have quizzed them Pullman guys about a 
 passenger from Utica 'r Syracuse to Rochester 'r 
 Buffalo that night; and then I'd have talked to the 
 ticket-agent at the place where such a passenger 
 got on at ; but it wouldn't do you no good now, be- 
 cause I have done it." 
 
 "What did you discover, Mr. Rushton?" Van 
 Cleve inquired. 
 
 "Well, what I've just told you as bein' the way 
 / would have done it turned out to be pretty close 
 to the way Chilton worked it himself. The original 
 of that there picture that Mrs. Harvard's hanging
 
 PICTURE OF HOLBROOK CHILTON 131 
 
 on to did buy a ticket to Rochester and make a 
 reservation at the Syracuse station a week ago last 
 Wednesday afternoon, and he did have it stamped 
 so's the date was the second day afterward. That 
 is, a week ago last Friday." 
 
 "And " Katherine said, bending forward 
 
 in her chair. 
 
 "There was a gray-haired guy with mutton-chop 
 whiskers, an' a plug hat, an' a raincoat buttoned up 
 to his chin, an' spats over his shoes, and a limp in 
 his left leg who did get aboard of that train at 
 Syracuse that night, and who did get off at Roches- 
 ter, and who did sit in the smoking compartment 
 and snooze all the hundred miles between them two 
 stations; anyhow, that is what the conductor and 
 two porters agreed on in telling me." 
 
 "And, of course, that was Chilton?" 
 
 "Sure. And he shed the gray hair and the 
 whiskers and the plug hat and the raincoat and the 
 spats and the limp pretty soon after he got off at 
 Rochester, more than likely." 
 
 "And then returned to New York?" 
 
 "I'd bet the gold out o' my eye-tooth, Lady Kate, 
 that he ate lunch in New York the very next day," 
 Rushton replied with settled conviction. 
 
 Then he turned to Van Cleve. 
 
 "And," he added, "if you will give me the num- 
 ber of that house in San-Philip-Something Street, 
 in the city of Mexico, and a letter to that chief of 
 
 police friend of yourn can he talk United States 
 
 so I can understand him?" 
 
 "Yes. He speaks English very well indeed."
 
 132 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 "Well, if you will give me a letter to him I'll 
 leave to-night for Mexico; and I won't stay there 
 more'n a day after I get there, either. Where'd 
 you say that office of yourn was down there?" 
 
 "In calle Gante; that is, in Gante Street." 
 
 "I suppose that everything that was in it has been 
 rotted out by this time, eh?" 
 
 "No. I merely looked at it and left it just as it 
 was. My lease of it runs for another year. It may 
 have been entered since I came away, but I hardly 
 think so. Those who know me down there, with 
 the exception of the chief of police to whom I 
 telegraphed, do not know that I have left the coun- 
 try." 
 
 _"Well, that's all right. I'll take a chance on find- 
 ing what I'm going after. It is worth the effort, 
 anyhow." 
 
 "One might ask what the devil you are going 
 after, Rushton?" Tom Clancy interjected. 
 
 Rushton half closed one eye while he fixed the 
 other upon Tom and replied, grinning: 
 
 "I'm going down there, Mr. Clancy, to start a 
 brand new revolution; and if I can do it at all, one 
 full day will be about all I'll need." 
 
 Then, to Harvard : "I ought to make it in about 
 two weeks ; and, as I said before, the thing I'm after 
 is worth the effort." 
 
 "Don't you want to tell us what it is, Mr. Rush- 
 ton?" Katherine asked. 
 
 "No, please; I don't." 
 
 "Probably the lieutenant is of the opinion that 
 Chilton has returned to Mexico by this time," one
 
 PICTURE OF HOLBROOK CHILTON 133 
 
 of the operatives of the national agency remarked 
 with a touch of sarcasm. 
 
 Rushton turned upon him and replied, evidently 
 with hidden significance : 
 
 "I'll bet a hundred dollars that you have looked 
 straight into Chilton's eyes more than once in the 
 last ten days and didn't suspect it. I'll bet that you 
 will look into them again while I'm away and won't 
 even guess at it. And I'll bet that when I get back 
 here, or soon afterward, I'll be able to prove to the 
 satisfaction of everybody present that what I've 
 just said is true. Are you on?" 
 
 "We certainly hope that you will be, Rushton," 
 the chief interposed before his operative could reply, 
 "and when you do get back, if we have not nailed 
 the fellow in the meantime, you can rely upon each 
 one of us standing in line to help you. I think I 
 know what you are going there to get; and if I am 
 right, it is a good move." 
 
 "Well" Rushton left his chair "I guess this 
 meeting is about ready to adjourn. I'll take a walk 
 along with you, Mr. Van Cleve, if you'll let me. 
 I want to dig up a little more information out o' 
 you, if I can." 
 
 "And I," Katherine said, also addressing him, 
 "would like to keep this picture for a time, if I may. 
 I think there is I have an idea that I would like 
 to study it in connection with certain things you 
 said about the man himself." 
 
 "Certainly. Keep it by all means," Van Cleve 
 replied at once.
 
 184 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 Tom Clancy, bending closer to Katharine, said in 
 an undertone : 
 
 "I was just about to ask Mr. Van Cleve to lend 
 me the picture, Katherine. I wonder if my reason 
 is the same as yours. Eh?" 
 
 She shot a startled but half -puzzled glance at 
 him and replied quickly: 
 
 "It could not be, Tom. It is impossible." 
 
 "Maybe so," said Tom; but he left the impres- 
 sion with her that he did not think so, nevertheless.
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 THE MESSAGE FROM MEXICO 
 
 Rushton and Van Cleve, when they left the con- 
 ference at the bank together, called a taxicab and 
 were driven directly to the Hotel Mammoth, where 
 Mr. Van Cleve was staying. 
 
 "I think that I must go to Mexico," Rushton 
 announced with an air of finality as soon as they 
 were started. 
 
 "Is it necessary, Rushton?" Van Cleve asked 
 quietly. "A trip like that takes time. The whole 
 country is unsettled just now. Journeying through 
 it at present is not what it might be, and you are 
 likely to be detained much longer than you plan 
 for." * 
 
 "I know it." 
 
 "But you think that you must go there?" 
 
 "Somebody must." 
 
 "Could not some person down there perform the 
 service you require ? Could the matter be done for 
 you in any way?" 
 
 "I hadn't thought of that, Mr. Van Cleve. But 
 
 if somebody was there who knew how to do it and 
 
 who would do it for you, and if we could get a 
 
 telegram or a cable to that man that would explain 
 
 exactly what it is that I want done well, it might 
 
 * The time was after the overthrow of Diaz by Madero. 
 
 135
 
 136 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 do the trick. And I wish to Heaven that it could be 
 done, so that I would not have to go away just now." 
 
 "That is precisely the feeling that I have about 
 it, Rushton." 
 
 "Do you think it can be worked, sir?" 
 
 "I am sure of it provided it is anything con- 
 fidential. But you have not told me what it is yet." 
 
 "I want finger-prints and thumb-prints, if there 
 are any to be found down there, of Mr. Holbrook 
 Chilton. That's what I want, sir." 
 
 "Good. That will be easy if there are any there 
 to be found. And I think it is quite possible that 
 there are some." 
 
 "You do?" 
 
 "Yes. I am sure, for example, that my office is 
 still closed in the calle Gante; that it has not been 
 opened or entered since I left it, and will not be for 
 some time to come. The same rule would apply 
 to Chilton's rooms in San Felipe Neri,- and there 
 should be many finger-prints of his there on the 
 camera he used in making the pictures, on the plates 
 he touched and did not use, on the furniture gen- 
 erally. Oh, I have no doubt of it." 
 
 "Good." 
 
 "And, at my office, while he talked to me the very 
 last time he was there, I remember now that he 
 stood for a time leaning over a table that was be- 
 tween us, and that the fingers of both of his hands 
 rested upon the smooth and polished surface of the 
 top of that table at the time." 
 
 "Fine ! Then he has left the print of them there, 
 all right."
 
 THE MESSAGE FROM MEXICO 137 
 
 "There is not a doubt of it, I think." 
 
 "Now, who is the man you have in mind to do 
 this work for us, Mr. Van Cleve?" 
 
 "His name is Tranquilino Corona but that will 
 mean nothing to you. Also, he is my very good 
 friend, and has been so for a long time. He is a 
 man I can trust thoroughly." 
 
 "That is all right, too. But is he a chap that 
 can do the trick who will know how to do it?" 
 
 "Without a doubt. Before Madero came into 
 power, before President Diaz was ousted, Corona 
 was the president's right-hand man in the secret 
 service down there. He is a thoroughly trained 
 detective, Rushton. Diaz once sent him to Paris 
 to study the methods over there. I know that he 
 is familiar with the finger-print business." 
 
 "Then he is just the man for us." 
 
 "I know that he is." 
 
 "When we get to your rooms at the hotel, we 
 will get up a telegram to send to him, no matter 
 what the length of it or what it costs eh?" 
 
 "Certainly." 
 
 "And you will sign it with your name and 
 I've got another thought right here." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 "Can you fix it so that his replies will come 
 direct to me under another name than my own, do 
 you think?" 
 
 "Easily. I will tell him in the body of the mes- 
 sage how to address his replies. But why that, 
 Rushton?" 
 
 "Because I am thinking that I will disappear
 
 138 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 from this locality for a time. I am thinking that it 
 will be just as well and better if we let the oth- 
 ers, all of them, believe that I have gone to Mexico. 
 I think that I can do better work in that case." 
 
 "It is a good idea, Rushton. I approve of it. 
 Only you will tell Mr. Harvard and " 
 
 "I'll tell nobody but you, sir. Not a soul only 
 Banta." 
 
 "Who is Banta?" 
 
 "He is the gray-haired chap that sat next to you 
 part of the time this afternoon. We are old friends 
 old pals used to be side partners on the force. 
 He is with Chief Redhead now since he retired. 
 I'm goin' to take him in with me on this deal 
 and what Banta an' me can't pull off together won't 
 be worth pullin' off, believe me!" 
 
 "Very well. You know best, Rushton." 
 
 "Say, it's a thousand to one that Redhead, now 
 that he knows that I am bound for Mex, will have 
 me trailed; or will wanta send somebody with me. 
 If he does it will be Banta that he will pick. So 
 Banta an' me'll make the start, all right, all right; 
 but we won't go very far on the way at that." 
 
 "But why is that necessary?" 
 
 For a moment Rushton turned and looked 
 straight at Van Cleve, as if there was something 
 that he was about to say. But evidently he changed 
 his mind, so he replied presently: 
 
 "I've got still another idea that I ain't sure about, 
 Mr. Van Cleve ; and until I am mighty sure I don't 
 want to give it out. But I will say this much right 
 now: If that guy Chilton is playing the game as
 
 THE MESSAGE FROM MEXICO 139 
 
 I think he is playing it, and if he is the man I 
 think he may be, right here in this blessed city now, 
 there ain't any human way short of them finger- 
 prints to prove it. There ain't any other way to 
 nail him to the cross. And here is the point if 
 he is that man it's pretty dead certain that he will 
 be keepin' tabs on Harvard an' Clancy an' you an' 
 me mostly me, too from this out see?" 
 
 "Who whom do you suspect, Rushton?" 
 
 "I ain't say in' just yet. I don't want to say it 
 now. But I will say this much : I know a guy that 
 rolls cigarettes just the way you talked about at the 
 bank to-day." 
 
 "Very well. I am content. I believe in you, 
 Rushton. I think that you are the right man in 
 the right place." 
 
 "Thank you, sir." 
 
 "Is he is the man to whom you refer one whom 
 we see and know, do you think ?" 
 
 "Tryin' to put me through the third degree, Mr. 
 Van Cleve?" Rushton asked with a smile. "Hon- 
 estly, I don't wanta talk about that just yet." 
 
 "Very good. We will drop the subject. Only 
 I wish to assure you that I have every confidence 
 in your ability." 
 
 "Say, don't rub it in too thick, sir. You might 
 get me stuck on myself." 
 
 At the hotel, in the privacy of Van Cleve's suite 
 of rooms, the message to Mexico was concocted 
 after a great deal of labor. But it was very much 
 to the point. Words were not spared to render 
 perfectly plain what was wanted to the man who
 
 140 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 was destined to receive it. Every instruction was 
 given to him regarding how to proceed ; how to se- 
 cure the finger-prints, how to preserve them once 
 they were secured, how to pack and forward them, 
 and the name and address in New York to which 
 they were to be sent a name and address that 
 Rodney Rushton supplied. In all, the message con- 
 tained one hundred and thirty words; but nothing 
 that could add to its efficiency or to the necessary 
 instruction of Tranquilino Corona was omitted 
 and the message itself was finally filed for transmis- 
 sion at the main office of the telegraph company. 
 
 Afterward Rushton sought Banta at Banta's 
 home, and the two conversed in private for a long 
 time after that. They were old side partners who 
 had come together again, and who were both equally 
 delighted at the prospect of working once more in 
 unity and harmony. And when Rushton finally 
 sought his own quarters there was a smile of in- 
 tense satisfaction and content and confidence in 
 the outcome, too in his eyes and upon his face. 
 He thought that he could see far enough ahead of 
 him, then, to know just what the possession of 
 those finger-prints would do.
 
 LADY KATE S PERIL 
 
 In the meantime Betty Keese and her alluring 
 and hypnotic brother were motoring together in 
 Westchester County in the high-powered roadster 
 that was his newest possession. But notwithstand- 
 ing the fact that he had owned it only a few days 
 he was thoroughly master of the craft of operating 
 it just as he very quickly became the master of 
 whatsoever he undertook to perform. The two 
 were oddly silent at the beginning of their ride. 
 Very little more than the commonest civilities were 
 exchanged between them during the first half -hour 
 or so of it. The rumble seat behind them was un- 
 occupied. They were as utterly alone, in so far as 
 confidential conversation between them was con- 
 cerned, as if they had been upon a mountain-peak. 
 
 "Well, Ben?" Betty remarked when they were 
 going along within sight of the Sound, going only 
 at a moderate pace. 
 
 Then, when he made no reply, she added : "You 
 did not bring me out here this afternoon just be- 
 cause you were crazy for your sister's company, you 
 know. Don't forget that I am your sister." 
 
 He turned his head and shot a swift glance at 
 Betty. His eyes glowed appreciatively, and the 
 corners of his mouth twitched with a glimmer of 
 amusement. 
 
 141
 
 142 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 "Quite right, Betty," he said and drove on again 
 in silence. 
 
 "I reckon I already know the drift of what you 
 want to say," she went on ; "but I will wait for you 
 to say it, just the same." 
 
 "You see," he remarked, after another short 
 period of silence, "there is never an opportunity for 
 a word alone with you at Harvard's house. Kitten 
 or Harvard himself, or that everlasting and ever- 
 present Bolton, the butler one of them is always 
 butting in. Or, if it is not one of them, it is that 
 new maid whom, you tell me, Kitten has engaged 
 only since your arrival." 
 
 "A brother and sister aren't supposed to have 
 state secrets to discuss, Ben," his sister said, with 
 a toss of her head. Then she half-turned in her seat 
 and demanded : 
 
 "Say it, Ben, whatever it is? You did not send 
 for me to come north, for any other purpose than 
 to make use of me. I know that perfectly well. 
 Now what is the use to which you intend (if you 
 can) to put me?" 
 
 He shrugged. Then, although he still looked 
 straight ahead of him over the steering-wheel, he 
 smiled. A moment later he chuckled audibly. 
 
 "You are so sudden," he derided her, and laughed 
 aloud. 
 
 Then, sharply, and with unexpected directness, 
 he announced : "I am here to win Kitten away from 
 Bingham Harvard, whom she calls her husband. 
 And I am going to do it. And you, Betty, are 
 going to help me."
 
 LADY KATE'S PERIL 143 
 
 "I knew that that was about what you were going 
 to say, Ben," his sister replied, with slow deliberate- 
 ness. "This is my answer : I would sooner see you 
 tied down on a white ant-hill and slowly devoured." 
 
 "I haven't a doubt of it, Betty," he replied, with 
 another shrug. "But, you see, I know you better 
 than you know yourself. If I were tied down as 
 you say you would cut the cords, all right. And 
 you will help me to sever the bonds that hold Kitten 
 and Bingham Harvard together, too. You have got 
 to do it!" 
 
 Betty was silent. 
 
 "Haven't you?" he insisted. 
 
 "I prefer to hear all that you have to say on 
 the subject before I reply to that question," she 
 said then. 
 
 "I accumulated a good deal of money while I 
 was in China, Betty," he stated, with an abrupt 
 'change of subject. 
 
 "Were you in China?" she demanded, without 
 raising her voice, and with her head turned so that 
 she was gazing out across the Sound. 
 
 "Naturally since I tell you so. I brought back 
 a small fortune with me, too. It is in cash, and is 
 therefore available. I can afford to give you as 
 much as fifty thousand dollars of it, Betty if you 
 want it badly enough to do as I say." 
 
 "So my affectionate, sisterly services are to be 
 purchased, are they?" 
 
 "If you prefer to put it in that way yes." 
 
 "Suppose I decline the proposition?" 
 
 "I think I know you well enough to feel assured 
 that you will not quite dare to do that."
 
 144 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 He half-turned his head and looked straight at 
 Betty when he used the two threatening words. 
 
 "And I know myself well enough to be able to 
 assure you that I can, and will, make you accept it, 
 dear sister." 
 
 "Kittle hates you, Ben." 
 
 "She thinks she does when I am not present. 
 It is quite the contrary whenever I am in touch 
 of her. She is a little bit afraid of me, that's all 
 and she doesn't quite know what it is that she is 
 afraid of. She has not studied it, because she has 
 feared to do so. She flutters about like a bird 
 in a cage when I am near to her. She flushes and 
 pales : she tries to escape, but inevitably returns ; 
 she avoids my eyes all she can, but always I can 
 draw them back to mine ; she catches her breath, she 
 breathes quickly or slowly, as I will her to do. She 
 feels, all in the same instant, the impulse to strike 
 me dead at her feet and to fly into my arms and to 
 lie there. She cannot commit the former act; she 
 will she must do the latter." 
 
 "Ben" Betty turned to her brother with sudden 
 earnestness "Kitty is happy now. She loves her 
 husband. She adores him. He is her idol, her 
 world. Go away and leave her alone, won't you? 
 Please!" 
 
 He laughed harshly. 
 
 "Go away and leave her to another man to 
 that other man, who, in spite of every concentrated 
 energy and effort of my soul, won her away from 
 me! Go away and leave her to the man who took 
 possession of her, owned her, and held her in his
 
 LADY KATE'S PERIL 145 
 
 arms, and won her caresses and her embraces, while 
 I was absent?" Benton Keese cried, his handsome 
 face dark with anger, his eyes flaming with sullen, 
 smoldering fires. 
 
 He guided the car to the side of the road and 
 stopped it. He half turned in his seat to face his 
 sister. The sinister beauty of his shapely features 
 was never more remarkable than when he was in 
 one of his fits of passionate temper. 
 
 "Do you know me so littte as to expect that, 
 Elizabeth?" he asked, smiling cruelly. "Did you 
 ever know me to relent after I had once determined 
 upon a projected course? Don't you know that I 
 would sacrifice everything you, and even Kitten 
 herself in the end to win her now?" 
 
 Betty shrank away from him in spite of the fact 
 that she believed that she knew him better, and 
 therefore feared him less, than others did. She 
 trembled inwardly, wide-eyed and frightened. She 
 could see, through the smoldering glare of his eyes, 
 the devil that dwelt inside of him. It had always 
 been there. Their own father, now dead, had been 
 afraid to arouse it. Their mother had dreaded it 
 and had always been frightened by it. The negroes 
 had called him "that little devil" when he was a boy. 
 Betty could remember, when she was five and he 
 was fifteen, how he had shocked her and filled her 
 with horror by acts of cruelty that he had commit- 
 ted, and how frequently, and almost in the next 
 moment, he had won her again with kindnesses and 
 by the power of his strange personality. She was 
 not afraid for herself, but she was frightened
 
 146 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 terribly frightened for Katherine, and it was be- 
 cause she did know her brother so well, because 
 she understood his subtle power to charm, and rea- 
 lized his daring. 
 
 But all of the subtlety that had descended from 
 the Keese ancestors had not been bestowed upon 
 Benton. Betty had inherited some of it herself. 
 She had no thought other than to be unswervingly 
 loyal to her friend; but she knew, also, that she 
 could not successfully battle against her brother in 
 the open, even in the service of Katherine. She 
 was aware that to combat him she must meet him 
 on his own ground, in his own way, and that she 
 would have to be as subtle, as far-seeing, and as 
 resourceful as he was. 
 
 So, when that momentary burst of passion had 
 swept over him and spent itself, she asked him 
 quietly : 
 
 "What do you want me to do, Ben?" 
 
 He started the car ahead before he replied. 
 
 "I don't know yet," he said after an interval. 
 "But I must know that I can depend upon you. 
 When the time comes to act you must be ready to 
 act with me and for me. No matter what the emer- 
 gency may be, I must know that you will stand 
 with me through it and to the end of it." 
 
 "Ben," Betty entreated, "you will not use you 
 will not attempt to compel Kittie to go away with 
 Oh, dear you must not " 
 
 He interrupted her calmly. 
 
 "I will use persuasion to the limit," he said delib- 
 erately. "If that fails I will employ other and more
 
 LADY KATE'S PERIL 147 
 
 certain methods. And you must help, if it comes 
 to that." 
 
 "Ben" she reached out and rested one hand 
 lightly upon his arm "don't you know that Bing- 
 ham Harvard will kill you in the end, no matter 
 how you may accomplish what you have started 
 out to do? No matter even if you fail at the last? 
 Don't you know that he will kill you, even if you 
 have tried and have failed?" 
 
 He shrugged and did not answer. 
 
 "Do you know anything about the history of 
 Bingham Harvard ?" his sister asked him. 
 
 "I know all about it. I know everything about 
 it" 
 
 "Are you sure? Do you know all about him 
 when he was called 'Alias the Night Wind'?" 
 
 "Yes; and if he were ten thousand Night Winds 
 rolled into one, the fact would make no difference. 
 I want her his wife. And I'm going to get her. 
 And, if I have to kill him in order to do it, why 
 I will kill him ; that's all." 
 
 "My God, Benton " 
 
 "No heroics, if you please, Elizabeth." 
 
 "Have you been told about the terrible strength 
 of the man, and of his awful temper, when it is 
 aroused ? Do you know about " 
 
 "I tell you I know all about him; everything. 
 And you know mighty little about your beloved 
 brother, if you think that you can frighten me. 
 Now, listen to me for a moment." 
 
 "Well?" Betty turned her head away while she 
 listened.
 
 148 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 "I have not given myself any too much time to 
 do all that I intend to do. Two weeks or three, 
 at the most, is all that I care to allow myself. I 
 intend, then, to disappear. And Kitten shall disap- 
 pear with me. Do you understand that?" 
 
 Betty nodded her head affirmatively. She could 
 not have spoken just then. 
 
 "Willingly, if she will ; by force, if necessary, she 
 shall go away with me. But I think I intend in 
 the meantime to compel her to a willingness, if 
 not to an eagerness, to escape from Harvard, and 
 to go anywhere, even to the uttermost ends of the 
 earth, with me. Do you understand that? If you 
 do not, I won't explain. If you do, you need not 
 think too much about it. But my plans are made. 
 I shall carry them out to the end. I waited too long 
 a time for Katherine Maxwilton to let any consid- 
 eration for Katherine Harvard stand in my way. 
 And as for the man who stepped into the ring and 
 caught her when I was not present to prevent 
 it ? 
 
 "I will find a way to be damned well rid of him, 
 after I have " He stopped. 
 
 "Have done what?" Betty asked, breathlessly. 
 
 Keese replied slowly, his eyes boring into his 
 sister's as he did so : 
 
 "After I have taken possession of what belongs 
 to me. After I have made her mine ; and when she 
 would not go back to Harvard even if he would 
 take her back why, then I'll either kill him or have 
 him killed ; one or the other. There won't be room 
 enough in the world for both of us, afterward."
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 AN ELEMENTAL PUZZLE 
 
 Lady Kate and Tom Clancy left the bank to- 
 gether. Tom's car, that had taken him there, waited 
 at the door directly behind Katherine's. But he 
 dismissed his own and followed Katherine into the 
 limousine after a nod of friendly greeting to Black 
 Julius, who had been her faithful servitor since her 
 childhood, and who sat like an ebony statue under 
 the steering-wheel. 
 
 "Katherine," Tom said when they were seated 
 side by side and the car was headed uptown, "I am 
 in love. I er don't suppose it surprises you so 
 very much to hear me say that, does it?" 
 
 Lady Kate threw a bright smile at him and re- 
 plied gently: 
 
 "It does not surprise me at all, Tom; and it 
 pleases me greatly. Why, it has been printed all 
 over you as big as a signboard ever since the mo- 
 ment you looked into Betty's eyes. I knew even 
 then that the little god had made a bull's-eye. To 
 tell you the truth, I rather thought it would be so, 
 from the moment I knew that Betty was coming." 
 
 Tom nodded his head with silent emphasis. 
 Presently he said: 
 
 "Cupid does not always shoot both ways at once, 
 does he?" 
 
 149
 
 150 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 "Meaning ?" she inquired, raising her brows. 
 
 "Meaning this, Katherine: I am wondering if 
 the little chap scored a bull's-eye for me, as well as 
 on me?" 
 
 " Taint heart/ Tom; you know the rest of it." 
 
 "Sure. And I'm not faint-hearted; you know 
 that. And I am not worrying particularly about 
 that other bull's-eye, either, for I mean that it shall 
 be one before very long, if it isn't so already. So 
 there !" he concluded with a light laugh. 
 
 "Modesty is not your hazard, at all events," she 
 returned, smiling again. 
 
 "Katherine" he turned his head and looked 
 straight into her eyes "I am in love with Betty 
 Keese. I knew I was in love with her before I had 
 walked a block that morning after I left you two 
 at the entrance to the Pennsylvania station. I 
 know, too, that a man doesn't get it in the neck 
 I mean in the heart, of course like that, without 
 the shock being mutual ; or reasonably close to mu- 
 tuality, anyhow." 
 
 "Modesty, Tom, as I have already observed " 
 
 "Never mind the 'modesty' part of it, Katherine. 
 There isn't any of that kind of modesty in the 
 game, when a chap is in love the way I am. But 
 the circumstance, take it all in all, places me in 
 rather a peculiar position toward you. That is what 
 I am leading up to, Mrs. Bingham Harvard, if 
 anybody should ride in on a biplane and ask you." 
 
 "Toward me?" Katherine stared at him in en- 
 tire uncomprehension. 
 
 "Uh-huh." He nodded. Then he grinned.
 
 AN ELEMENTAL PUZZLE 151 
 
 "When you introduced me to Betty you said that 
 she was a sister in everything but the blood-tie. 
 You stated, also, if I remember correctly, that she 
 stood in the same relation to you that I do to Bing. 
 Well, then, if Betty and you are sisters, and, by the 
 same axiom if Bing and I are brothers, that makes 
 you my double-sister, doesn't it?" 
 
 "You are not very clear, Tom, but I will admit 
 that it does, in order to hear what more you may 
 have to offer on the point." 
 
 Tom absently took a cigar from his pocket, bit 
 off the end of it, returned it to his waistcoat, and 
 replied : 
 
 "I am going to talk to you, Katherine, exactly 
 as if you actually were my sister; precisely from 
 the standpoint of a real brother. If you do not 
 happen to like what I say you won't like it ; that's 
 all. 
 
 "It begins with this statement: That brother 
 of Betty's is not a healthful and wholesome chap 
 to have around your fireside." 
 
 Katherine's lips parted. Her eyes dilated with 
 surprise. She was on the point of replying when 
 he interrupted her. 
 
 "Wait a moment, little lady," he said. "Let me 
 get this out of my system before you butt in. If I 
 were not exactly what I am, to you, and to Bing 
 and, I guess, to Betty, too I don't suppose that I 
 would have seen or noticed a thing. But, being 
 just what I am, to all of you, I get a viewpoint 
 from four sides at once. See?" 
 
 She made no reply, and he went on :
 
 152 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 "I take a squint at Benton Keese and I see a 
 whole lot. I throw a side-glance at Betty, when 
 she is not aware of it, and when she is stealing a 
 look at her precious brother and I see a whole lot 
 more. I turn my eyes in your direction, and 
 well I read another hidden chapter. Then, Kath- 
 erine, when I make a composite, mental picture of 
 the whole shooting match I'm scared stiff. And it 
 is not that handsome he-cat that scares me, nor 
 what I read in Betty's mind. It's you." 
 
 "I?" 
 
 "Yes. You are afraid of him. I wouldn't dare to 
 say this if I weren't your 'double-brother.' But you 
 are afraid of Benton Keese. And you are not one 
 to be afraid of anything without good and suffi- 
 cient reason. Now, little lady, I want you to forget 
 everything except that I am just what I am to you 
 and Bing, and tell me exactly what it is that you 
 are afraid of. Wheeew! Maybe you think it did 
 not take some courage to get that off my chest!" 
 
 His attempt at levity passed unnoticed. Kath- 
 erine stared straight ahead of her at nothing dur- 
 ing a considerable interval before she replied. Then 
 she said, almost inaudibly, and with hesitation : 
 
 "I do not know." 
 
 "You admit that you are afraid of him?" 
 
 "N-no. Not exactly that. No ; I am not afraid 
 of him." She still spoke in a low tone, and with 
 evident hesitancy; but it was the hesitation of un- 
 certainty, not of reluctance. 
 
 "Then what is it?"
 
 AN ELEMENTAL PUZZLE 153 
 
 "I don't know, Tom." Katherine's eyes still 
 stared straight ahead of her. 
 
 "You do know, don't you, that the man is madly 
 in love with you? His kind of love?" 
 
 "His kind of love yes." She nodded with con- 
 viction. "Only I do not know the kind. It is 
 utterly strange to me. It always frightened me. 
 My fear of him if it is fear that I feel must be 
 due to the force of habit. I can account for it in 
 no other way, Tom." 
 
 "Habit?" 
 
 "I was afraid of him, always, when I was a 
 child. I dreaded his presence and flew into it the 
 instant he appeared. He is five years older than 
 Betty is than I am. When I was five and he was 
 ten, I was horribly afraid of him. When I was 
 ten and he was fifteen, it was the same, only more 
 so. But he fascinated me, always, if he chose to 
 do so." 
 
 "And does so, now?" 
 
 "No. Not that unless it may be that form of 
 abnormal fascination which is attracted by things 
 that are most repulsive." 
 
 "How was it when you were still older? When 
 you were fifteen and he was twenty? And after- 
 ward, until your parents wanted you to marry him, 
 and you ran away?" 
 
 Katherine turned her eyes to Tom's for the first 
 time since the beginning of the subject. 
 
 "I hated him," she said with half -breathless ve- 
 hemence. "He made my flesh creep, and my hands 
 cold, and my cheeks flush and my heart throb
 
 154 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 with anger, every time he looked at me. He had a 
 way with him that " 
 
 "Please go on," said Tom. 
 
 "I can't. I don't know how to continue. It is 
 all so inexplicable." 
 
 "He has a way with him still, has he not, when 
 he is near you? When he looks at you?" 
 
 "I am afraid that he has Tom." 
 
 "How does it affect you? Can you tell me that 
 much?" 
 
 "No. I do not know. It's a mixture of attrac- 
 tion and repulsion: of liking and of loathing. It 
 attracts me by its very bale fulness. It is utterly 
 fearsome while it fascinates. It is like looking 
 into the vortex of a terrific conflagration and long- 
 ing to approach it for a nearer view, yet knowing 
 that the touch of it will consume and destroy. Do 
 you understand it, Tom? Can you explain it for 
 me?" 
 
 "Is it, do you think, a form of hypnotic influ- 
 ence?" he asked, without replying to her question. 
 
 But she shook her head instantly and with de- 
 cision. 
 
 "It is not that," she said. "It is not even mental 
 suggestion. It is not mental at all. It is not phys- 
 ical. Mentally, physically, spiritually, I utterly 
 loathe the man. It is primordial; elemental. It 
 is " She stopped again. 
 
 "Well?" Tom encouraged her. 
 
 "Tom Clancy, if there were such a thing as rein- 
 carnation if I could accept the theory of pre- 
 existence I would readily believe that Benton
 
 ELEMENTAL PUZZLE 155 
 
 Keese and I had known each other and loved or 
 hated each other, then; and that one of us had 
 murdered the other; and that (I almost hate my- 
 self for saying it, even to you, Tom) history is try- 
 ing now to repeat itself. He attracts me, he pulls 
 me, he draws me to him, in spite of myself, but 
 the impulse that is upon me at such moments is to 
 strike, to destroy, to kill." 
 
 "Good God, Katherine!" Clancy exclaimed, as- 
 tounded. 
 
 "I tell you it is elemental. And it is nothing that 
 is even remotely akin to love, or that ever could 
 have been, even in that chimerical past existence. 
 It is hate diabolical, relentless, chaotic, destroying 
 hate. Love is one great extremity of life. Hate is 
 the other it's opposite. The second is as positive 
 in its attraction as the first." 
 
 "By Jove !" Tom said under his breath and leaned 
 back against the cushions. 
 
 Then : "The danger is not exactly what I feared 
 it might be, little lady, but it is just as great or 
 greater, even. For, take it from me, Katherine, it 
 is not the second one of those two extremes that he 
 feels. It is the first one. He is the one who is in 
 danger; not you. And upon my word, just now 
 when you said what you did, you looked and 
 spoke, too as if you might strike and destroy and 
 kill if he should ever thrust himself across the divid- 
 ing line." 
 
 Katherine bent nearer to him. She rested one 
 hand gently upon his arm. She spoke with intense 
 earnestness.
 
 *56 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 "You have opened my eyes, Tom," she said qui- 
 etly. "You have made me understand at last what 
 it is that I fear. I am afraid that he will attempt 
 to cross that dividing line and that the elemental 
 feminine within me will destroy him if he does so." 
 
 The car drew up at the curb in front of Kath- 
 erine's home and stopped. Another that had ap- 
 proached from the opposite direction did the same 
 at the identical moment. As they stepped down to 
 the pavement Benton Keese and Betty did likewise 
 from the other car. The four entered the house 
 together.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 THE SWEETEST STORY EVER TOLD 
 
 "Miss Betty, were you ever in love?" 
 
 Tom asked the question softly. Betty was seated 
 at the piano with her fingers running lightly over 
 the keys and improvising the harmony they pro- 
 duced. Her shapely chin was tilted slightly upward 
 so that her exquisite face was in full view of his 
 devouring eyes and her lips were parted in a half 
 smile which set her dimples a winking mischiev- 
 ously. 
 
 "Oh, heaps of times !" she assured him roguishly. 
 "I cannot even remember all of the times." 
 
 "In that case," Tom said with calm conviction, 
 "you will know exactly how to sympathize with a 
 poor chap who suddenly finds himself in that pre- 
 dicament." 
 
 "Is it a predicament?" Betty inquired archly, 
 while her fingers strayed into the refrain of a love- 
 song. 
 
 "Quite so." Tom nodded his head with un- 
 doubted emphasis. But he held to his position at 
 the end of the piano and nothing in his attitude 
 or manner betrayed the earnestness of his words. 
 He wondered if Betty intended that the air she 
 was playing to be significant of her attitude or if 
 she was merely making fun of him. 
 157
 
 158 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 Benton Keese, at the far end of the room, was 
 idly turning the loose leaves of a portfolio. Both 
 he and Tom had been asked to remain for dinner, 
 and the arrival of Bingham Harvard was momen- 
 tarily expected. Katherine was temporarily absent 
 from the room. 
 
 Betty played on for a time without response. 
 Then 
 
 "Who is the poor chap to whom you refer ?" she 
 
 asked, bending slightly forward over the keyboard 
 
 but not so far as to prevent Tom from seeing the 
 
 , deeper color that had flooded the shapely cheek and 
 
 chin. 
 
 "I am," he replied boldly, still holding to his dis- 
 tance but doing it with evident difficulty, as the 
 enforced rigidity of his upright pose sufficiently 
 demonstrated. 
 
 Betty's fingers strayed again. This time they 
 touched upon another old-time melody which every- 
 body whistled and sang only a few years ago. 
 
 "Love me, and the world is mine," Betty's fingers 
 said to him; and he had the almost ungovernable 
 impulse to seize her, to lift her from the piano stool, 
 and to crush her warm and supple body against 
 his own. But he succeeded in resisting it. 
 
 She was silent again until she had played nearly 
 through the once popular song. Then, with face 
 and eyes averted, she asked, in so low a tone that 
 he barely heard the words : 
 
 "Who is the the other one?" 
 
 "You are," he replied instantly. 
 
 Crash! Betty's slender fingers fell upon chord
 
 SWEETEST STORY EVER TOLD 159 
 
 after chord of harmony, each one softer and yet 
 fuller than that which had preceded it, and her tap- 
 ering, dainty fingers, directed by her whimsical but 
 receptive mood, modulated from key to key until 
 with the delicacy of a subconscious thought they 
 drifted into the air of De Koven's "Oh, promise 
 me !" She bent still lower over the piano while her 
 hands found the notes that seemed to be intended 
 for her answer to him. 
 
 Tom Clancy's face became, for an instant, as pale 
 as wax. He held himself in hand with difficulty. 
 It was hardly possible to mistake her meaning, 
 then. 
 
 "Do you mean it, Betty?" he demanded breath- 
 lessly, bending a trifle nearer to her in spite of him- 
 self. "Do you mean it, dear?" he went on, recov- 
 ering in part his mental equilibrium, and stoically 
 condemning himself not to betray by a single act 
 the near-tragedy of the situation. For he knew, 
 without looking in that direction, that the eyes of 
 Benton Keese were watching them, and he realized 
 that what Katherine had been enabled to see so 
 plainly must also have been discernible to Betty's 
 keenly observant brother. 
 
 "Do you mean all that the music tells me?" he 
 asked yet again. "I know that it is awfully soon 
 for me to tell you about it ; but but- I could have 
 told you the very same thing even before I let go 
 of your hand the first time I ever saw you, down 
 at the Pennsylvania station. 
 
 "I knew it then ; right then. Honest, I did. And 
 I told Katherine all about it only a few minutes
 
 160 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 ago, while Julius was bringing us here in the car. 
 And she thought that maybe you liked me a little 
 bit, you know. Betty, won't you look at me, please ? 
 Won't you raise your eyes to mine just once, if it's 
 only for an instant? I'll fly into little pieces in a 
 moment more, if you don't. My heart is swelling 
 so that it will explode like a stick of dynamite in 
 another minute unless you look at me, of say some- 
 thing. I love you, little Betty; with all my heart 
 and soul and strength I love you. And you know 
 it, too. You have known it as well as I have, since 
 three days ago, when / found it out, all in a blessed 
 minute." 
 
 She did not look at him, just then, in response to 
 his plea. She did not dare. Possibly she realized 
 that if she did so, she would, herself, betray to her 
 vigilant brother the very thing that Tom was trying 
 so hard to conceal. But her ringers strayed over the 
 piano keys into the melody of a still older song 
 "Because it's you"; and he mentally repeated the 
 first verse of it in response to the touch of her 
 singing fingers: 
 
 "If I could have my dearest wish fulfilled, 
 
 And take my choice of all earth's treasures, too; 
 
 And ask of Heaven what so e'er I willed 
 I'd ask for you." 
 
 "Betty ! Oh, Betty !" he fairly gasped in the ex- 
 cess of his pent-up emotions "Is that your answer? 
 Is it? Tell me. Look up at me and tell me, or I 
 will "
 
 SWEETEST STORY EVER TOLD 161 
 
 She obeyed him. Her eyes, moist, limpid, yet 
 wondrously alight and shining through the love- 
 mist in them, sought his own, found them, and 
 rested there for a moment, rapturously. He read 
 her answer there, in the warm glow of them, in the 
 flush upon her cheeks, in the slightly parted lips, 
 in her quickened breathing, in the suffusing warmth 
 of her pulsing nearness and in his own hammer- 
 ing heart-beats which responded so utterly. 
 
 Tom Clancy knew, then. There was no need for 
 Betty to speak. A great sigh of supreme content 
 welled within him. The great impulse of convic- 
 tion, of certainty, overwhelmed him and steadied 
 him, too. And again, while he struggled to con- 
 tain himself, Betty's fingers sought out and re- 
 peated to him the last bars of "It is the sweetest 
 story ever told." It was almost too much. There 
 is no telling what might have happened then had 
 not an interruption occurred. 
 
 The door opened and Bingham Harvard came 
 into the room. Katherine was beside him. Betty 
 swung the stool around so that she faced away from 
 Tom whose eyes she dared not meet again just 
 then and left the piano. Benton Keese got lazily 
 upon his feet in greeting. Clancy crossed the room 
 quickly and drew Lady Kate aside, leading her 
 away from the others, so that, for her ears alone, 
 he might safely turn on the "exhaust." He felt that 
 some sort of a safety valve had to "pop," or that 
 he would burst with the wonder of it all. 
 
 "I've told her, Katherine/' he whispered fiercely. 
 "I've won. I have got her or she has got me;
 
 162 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 or Oh, I don't know what to say. It is all 
 
 right, anyhow. Glory be, Lady Kate! I am the 
 happiest man outside of heaven." 
 
 "Do you mean to tell me, Tom Clancy, that you 
 have been proposing to Betty right here in this 
 room, in the presence of her brother?" Katherine 
 asked composedly. 
 
 "Uh-huh. Honest. I couldn't help it. It just 
 had to come out over there by the piano. And she, 
 bless her dear heart ! answered me with her fingers." 
 
 "Really? I did not know that either of you 
 understood the deaf and dumb alpha " 
 
 "Deaf and dumb nothing! She played to me. 
 And then, after a little, she looked at me. Say, 
 Lady, I've got to hug somebody. Can't I hug you ? 
 Eh? Or I'll tell you what! You go over there 
 where she is, and take her aside, and put your arms 
 around her, and kiss her on both cheeks, for me, 
 will you? And you tell her in a whisper to look 
 over your shoulder at me while you are doing it. 
 Go on! Please! I want you to. Good heavens, 
 Katherine, what a wonderful thing it is, isn't it ?" 
 
 But Katherine had already turned away to do 
 his bidding. Tom watched her. He saw her put 
 an arm around Betty and draw her aside just as 
 Harvard left the room to seek his own. For the 
 moment Tom forgot that Benton Keese was some- 
 where behind him. He had eyes only for Betty, 
 who was at that ins.tant peering at him over Kath- 
 erine' s shoulder. And her own eyes sparkled won- 
 drously, her cheeks were red and rosy, her lips were 
 parted ever so little in a half -roguish smile which
 
 SWEETEST STORY EVER TOLD 163 
 
 Tom thought was the most bewitching and alluring 
 thing he had ever seen. He could scarcely contain 
 himself. He was tense in his attitude, poised, and 
 with his body bent slightly forward as if he were 
 on the very point of leaping forward to seize her. 
 And then he was jerked back to earth again with 
 a jar and a shock that suddenly aroused every im- 
 pulse of fierce resentment that was in him. The 
 quiet, insinuating, perfectly modulated voice of 
 Benton Keese spoke to him from directly behind. 
 
 "You are a regular steeple-chaser in your love- 
 hunting; eh, Clancy? And you take hurdles and 
 blind ditches without a thought of the consequences, 
 I observe," Keese said. 
 
 "That was an entertaining tableau at the piano; 
 and very prettily done. But, Betty always does it 
 to perfection. God knows that she has had prac- 
 tice enough."
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 AGAIN THAT CHILTON PICTURE 
 
 Clancy controlled the angry impulse he felt, even 
 while he turned about to face Benton Keese ; and he 
 compelled himself to perform that act very slowly 
 indeed. Tom's impetuosity was a good deal like 
 Theodore Roosevelt's ; his brain thought much more 
 quickly, always, than he acted. 
 
 "It was rather well done, wasn't it?" he replied 
 genially. "I thought so myself." 
 
 Keese nodded, a slow smile twitching at the 
 corners of his mouth, his eyes glowing inscrutably. 
 
 "If you perhaps had been supplied with a har- 
 monica, Clancy, the scene would have been almost a 
 wordless recitative," he said. "But I suspect that 
 you are very much in earnest most men are when 
 they run up against Betty and so T suggest that 
 you use your glasses to study the field a bit care- 
 fully before you take all of the jumps." 
 
 Tom's eyes narrowed. Lady Kate and Betty, 
 with their arms around each other, were crossing 
 the room toward them. He replied rapidly, and in 
 a low tone: 
 
 "Your metaphor, Mr. Keese, reminds me that in 
 the hunting field one is more prone to warn another 
 rider of danger, when he sees ahead of him a bad 
 jump for his own mount. To stick to the meta- 
 
 164
 
 AGAIN THAT CHILTON PICTURE 165 
 
 phor, 'Look out that you don't fetch a cropper your- 
 self.' " 
 
 Keese shrugged his shoulders, and there was a 
 strange and ominous gleam in the depths of his 
 red-brown eyes as he replied, showing his white 
 teeth as he said it : 
 
 "Oh, my mount will take me safely over. I fear 
 only for those who may foolishly attempt to follow 
 me. We were speaking of the hunting-field, Betty," 
 he added lazily to his sister. "I was telling Mr. 
 Clancy about that old trick of yours of leading the 
 chase to the most dangerous jumps, and then fall- 
 ing so that you might safely jeer at your pursuers 
 when they floundered in the ditch." 
 
 The double meaning of what he said compelled 
 itself upon each of his listeners, although they were 
 differently impressed. And Keese, who flew from 
 one conversational twig to another with the ease 
 and cocksureness of a sparrow, added : 
 
 "All of which reminds me that it has been a long 
 time since I rode to hounds. And I pine for it. 
 Really." 
 
 Harvard returned to the room at that instant, 
 and, hearing what was said, replied instantly : 
 
 "The Forestbrook club will hold a meet this 
 coming Thursday, Mr. Keese. Katherine will be 
 glad to attend, I know; and I guess that Tom 
 can do the honors of the day. Unfortunately I 
 won't be able to go myself. But I can join you 
 later; in time for the dinner." 
 
 "I should like it very much, indeed," Keese re-
 
 166 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 plied readily. "Nothing would please me more than 
 that" 
 
 "And you, Miss Betty?" Bingham asked. 
 
 "Oh, I should just love it!" 
 
 "And you, Tom? Can you manage it to act as 
 host for that day?" 
 
 "Sure. I'll declare a bank-holiday, so far as I 
 am concerned." 
 
 "And we can fit you out with mounts, and every- 
 thing that is needed," Harvard added, "so we will 
 declare it settled." 
 
 Until dinner was served, during it, and after- 
 ward, Tom Clancy found not a single moment or 
 opportunity for a word alone with Betty, although 
 he resorted to every expedient he could think of, or 
 create, in order to accomplish it. He was per- 
 fectly aware that Betty sought to avoid it, too ; but 
 not, he readily surmised, because she dreaded it or 
 even wished to postpone it, but on account of the 
 proximity of her brother, and his evident under- 
 standing of the situation. Their eyes sought each 
 other's frequently, nevertheless, and flashes of en- 
 tire comprehension of the occasion were exchanged 
 between them. 
 
 Katherine watched them demurely, and won- 
 dered how either of them could suppose that the 
 situation was not thoroughly understood by Betty's 
 brother and her own husband. The truth she 
 thought was plainly enough depicted upon the faces 
 and in the eyes of the lovers whenever their glances 
 met. 
 
 In the library, after the informal meal, Benton
 
 AGAIN THAT CHILTON PICTURE 167 
 
 Keese sought the company of Bingham Harvard, 
 and they chatted together upon various topics, un- 
 til the young bank president remarked apropos of 
 nothing in particular: 
 
 "It is rather odd, Mr. Keese, that ever since your 
 first appearance among us I have had the strange 
 sensation of having met you before, somewhere 
 although I know quite well that it cannot be so." 
 
 "Indeed?" Keese replied indifferently. "It is, I 
 suppose, some vague resemblance to another, whom 
 you have encountered somewhere; and yet, that 
 other man may not at all resemble me, nor I him." 
 
 "Quite so," Harvard assented, nodding. 
 
 "It is the old Oliver Wendell Holmes idea that 
 when John and Thomas meet and converse six peo- 
 ple are talking: John, as John thinks he is; John 
 as Thomas thinks he is; and John as God knows 
 he is and so on, vice versa, et cetera, and all the 
 rest of it. Eh?" 
 
 "Doubtless. My lifelong bank-training has 
 taught me to remember personalities, rather than 
 faces and features. It is something about your 
 personality that seems familiar to me." 
 
 "Oh! I see. Well, I think I can account for 
 that, Harvard. It is quite simple." 
 
 "Yes?" 
 
 "It is the personality of the Southerner. We are 
 all very much alike in many of our characteristics, 
 you know, no matter how greatly we may differ 
 in the concrete. All Southerners possess identical 
 traits which are never entirely eradicated in another 
 environment. For example : your wife and I were
 
 168 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 raised as we express it in the same county and 
 among the same people. Practically, although I 
 am older, as you know, we were children and play- 
 mates together; and so the familiar notes that I 
 have struck in your memory are the harmonizing 
 notes of Fayette County, Kentucky, which constant 
 association with Katherine has taught you to recog- 
 nize." 
 
 "Probably that accounts for it," Harvard ad- 
 mitted, impressed by the suggestion yet uncon- 
 vinced, although he did not say so ; and at that mo- 
 ment there came an interruption. 
 
 Betty had been idly turning the leaves of a book 
 that was spread open upon her lap, and listening 
 abstractedly to the conversation between Katherine 
 and Tom, who were seated near her. She had 
 heard Tom ask to be shown again a small photo- 
 graph, which Katherine presently gave to him. 
 Then, as their heads came nearer together, to look 
 at it, she, too, bent forward to see what it was. 
 And then she saw that they were not really look- 
 ing upon the picture, but into each other's eyes, 
 studiously, earnestly, thoughtfully, as if each were 
 mutely asking a question of the other and as if 
 each declined to express any sort of a reply. The 
 first glance that Betty had of the photograph, slant- 
 ing and distant, so that the pose, rather than the cos- 
 tume and features depicted in the picture, impressed 
 her, made her start and bend still nearer, in order 
 to look more closely upon it. 
 
 "Why," she exclaimed, "I thought at first that 
 it was a picture of but of course it isn't. I can
 
 AGAIN THAT CHILTON PICTURE 169 
 
 see that now." She reached out a hand, and Tom, 
 who held the picture, gave it to her. 
 
 "Oh, no!" she said. "I can see now that it isn't 
 in the least bit like him. But what an odd costume ! 
 Mexican, isn't it?" 
 
 She studied it in silence for a moment, and both 
 Tom and Katherine watched her narrowly, per- 
 haps unconsciously perhaps also intentionally. 
 Then Betty called to her brother. 
 
 "Benton, come here a moment!" she said, and 
 rose to meet him halfway. And that was the inter- 
 ruption referred to. 
 
 Clancy rose also and rested an elbow upon a 
 nearby, high-backed chair. Katherine retained her 
 seat, but bent forward slightly upon it, with her 
 eyes fixed intently upon Benton Keese as he .came 
 forward to meet his sister. Harvard raised his own 
 eyes indifferently. 
 
 "Were you ever in Mexico, Ben?" Betty asked, 
 with scarcely a pause between her summons to him 
 and the question. "Look !" She thrust the picture 
 forward under his eyes. "I really thought, for just 
 an instant, that it was you." 
 
 "I ?" Keese replied smilingly, and reached out to 
 take possession of the small photograph, but mak- 
 ing no haste to look upon it. "I never knowingly 
 have had my picture taken since I wore knicker- 
 bockers," he commented generally to all of them. 
 And he permitted his gaze to rest for the briefest 
 instant upon each face in turn before he dropped it 
 to the photograph of Holbrook Chilton that Betty 
 had put into his hand.
 
 170 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 "Why, upon my word!" he exclaimed at once, 
 and with half -excited earnestness when he did look 
 upon it. 
 
 Then he looked again at his sister. "How did 
 you come by this, Betty?" he asked sharply. 
 "Where did you get it?" 
 
 "Kittie had it. T Mr. Clancy just now asked 
 her for it. I leaned over to see what it was, and 
 in the very first glance there was something about 
 it that made me think it was you." 
 
 "Oh, yes! Of course. Just because we are so 
 different, I suppose," her brother remarked with 
 irony. 
 
 Harvard's indifferent glance had become tense. 
 He left his chair and stepped forward nearer to 
 them. Keese was apparently interested in a closer 
 study of the picture, and there was a vaguely remi- 
 niscent smile upon his face as he did so. 
 
 "Do you know the gentleman, Mr. Keese?" 
 Harvard inquired calmly. 
 
 "Know him? Most certainly I know him or, 
 rather, I did know him some years ago. That is a 
 picture of Holbrook Chilton, or else I am very 
 greatly mistaken," and Benton Keese stared straight 
 into Harvard's eyes, as if daring him to deny the 
 statement. 
 
 "You are quite right. It is a picture of Holbrook 
 Chilton," Harvard said and smiled. 
 
 "Sure ! I knew that I could not be mistaken, al- 
 though the costume does change him mightily. But 
 it is the same man without a doubt. Is he a friend 
 of yours by any odd chance, Harvard?" He turned 
 toward Lady Kate. "Or of yours, Katherine?"
 
 AGAIN THAT CHILTON PICTURE 171' 
 
 "He is an acquaintance of mine and of Clan- 
 cy's," Harvard interposed before his wife could 
 reply. "May I ask if you have seen him recently? 
 Since your return to this country?" 
 
 "Oh, no ! In fact I have not seen or heard from 
 him but once since before I went to China; and 
 even then he was merely a passing acquaintance, 
 so to speak. But I liked the man very much in- 
 deed, considering how short a time I really knew 
 him." 
 
 "Have you any idea of his present address, Mr. 
 Keese?" 
 
 "No. I was on the point of asking you the same 
 question. You see, we traveled together in the 
 same Pullman in the same section, in fact, for 
 he had the upper and I the lower berth from 
 New Orleans to Los Angeles. I was on my way 
 to California, with no especial object in view. His 
 destination at the time was Guaymas, in Mexico; 
 and, if I remember correctly, his plans for the fu- 
 ture were about as indefinite as my own. We 
 parted after a few days spent together in Los 
 Angeles." 
 
 "You have heard from him since then, you 
 say?" 
 
 "Once; yes. It was before I sailed from San 
 Francisco. I received a letter from him at the 
 hotel address I had given him there. It was post- 
 marked at Guaymas. I replied to it rather hastily 
 I suppose, and told him that I was leaving for 
 China. Later I wrote to him from Singapore, but 
 I never received a reply to that letter, either. In
 
 172 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 fact, I had entirely forgotten him until I saw this 
 picture. It is a remarkably clear likeness as I re- 
 member him barring the costume, of course. 
 Still, I would have recognized it anywhere." 
 
 "I am quite anxious to know where he can be 
 found," Harvard said, turning and resuming the 
 chair he had vacated. 
 
 "I am afraid that I cannot help you in that 
 respect," Keese replied thoughtfully and with evi- 
 dent concern. "We were merely traveling acquain- 
 tances, you know, and neither of us was much given 
 to personal confidences. I told him that I was a 
 Kentuckian and he replied that he was a Virginian ; 
 but I have no idea what part of Virginia he came 
 from." 
 
 Betty supplied a suggestion then. 
 
 "It was probably Westmoreland County, Ben- 
 ton," she said, wrinkling her brows thoughtfully. 
 "I remember that papa used to correspond with a 
 man who came from there, whose name was Hoi- 
 brook; and I have a vague recollection of hearing 
 him mention the name of Chilton, too, although 
 I think he referred to another person when he did 
 that." 
 
 Keese nodded. 
 
 "Possibly," he assented indifferently. "I have 
 some faint remembrance of the sort myself; only it 
 isn't at all definite. However" he also resumed 
 his chair "one might readily find out, I suppose, 
 by writing to several of the local postmasters in 
 that locality. That is" he turned smilingly toward 
 Harvard again "if you are so very anxious to
 
 AGAIN THAT CHILTON PICTURE 173 
 
 know about him. Everybody knows everybody 
 else, and who their grandfathers and grandmothers 
 were, in the rural districts of the South. It is odd, 
 isn't it, that I should find a picture of him here?" 
 
 "Quite so," Tom Clancy said dryly. "To make 
 use of an expression that is frightfully trite, the 
 world is a small place when one makes the effort 
 to disappear." 
 
 "Oh!" said Keese. "Did Chilton do that? Did 
 he have reason for doing it? Is that er the 
 reason why you-all are so anxious to find him? I 
 should suppose, if he sent that photograph to you, 
 Harvard " 
 
 He halted in his speech suggestively, but^ Har- 
 vard did not supply the further information as to 
 the source of the photograph. 
 
 "It was taken, I think, by a friend and without 
 his knowledge,' Lady Kate announced. She was 
 still bending forward, with her chin resting in the 
 hollow of one hand, and her eyes throughout the 
 conversation concerning Chilton had not once wav- 
 ered from her close regard of Benton Keese, al- 
 though he seemed to be entirely unconscious of the 
 fact. 
 
 Then, rising and crossing to a chair beside her 
 husband, she added indifferently: "Why did the 
 picture remind you of Benton, Betty?" 
 
 "Really, I don't know, dear," Betty replied 
 thoughtfully, "for it isn't at all like him when one 
 comes to look closely at it. I think it was some- 
 thing in the pose or in the poise of the head." 
 
 "Probably that is what impressed me also,"
 
 174 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 Katherine said absently; and Clancy, who was in 
 the act of occupying a chair beside one that Betty 
 had taken, nodded and murmured: 
 
 "Me, too," which was more expressive than 
 grammatical. 
 
 Keese, who still held the photograph, reached out 
 and put it down upon the library-table, and Har- 
 vard picked it up and began to study it closely. 
 
 Just at that moment the door was opened, and 
 Bolton appeared at the threshold, where he stepped 
 aside to permit some one to pass into the room. 
 
 "Mr. Anderson Van Cleve," he announced.
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 AN EXCHANGE OF WARNINGS 
 
 "Mr. Van Cleve, let me make you acquainted 
 with Mr. Keese, of Kentucky; but more recently 
 from China. And my friend Miss Keese. We 
 were schoolmates and chums all our lives until I 
 left home to come to New York." 
 
 So spoke Lady Kate as she stepped forward to 
 welcome the man from Mexico. 
 
 Keese and Van Cleve grasped hands perfunc- 
 torily and the latter turned instantly to acknowl- 
 edge the second introduction ; but his keen eyes that 
 were always peculiarly penetrating in their regard, 
 looked deeply into the red-brown ones of Benton 
 Keese, even in that brief interval. 
 
 "There is no need to ask if you are sister and 
 brother, Miss Keese," he said genially to Betty, 
 retaining for a moment the hand she gave to him. 
 "The family resemblance is a pronounced one." 
 
 He selected a chair after he had shaken hands 
 with Clancy, and as it happened to be the one 
 nearest to Keese, addressed his next remark to 
 him, 
 
 "Lately returned from China, have you, Mr. 
 Keese?" he asked politely. His manner was that 
 of one who was merely "making" conversation; 
 and he added, without awaiting a reply: "I have 
 
 175
 
 176 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 recently returned from Mexico, so we are both 
 'foreigners,' in a measure. The latter country is 
 about as remote as the former, in all save dis- 
 tance." 
 
 "I have never visited Mexico, so I could not pass 
 as an authority on that point," Keese replied. 
 
 "Mr. Keese knows our friend Holbrook Chil- 
 ton," Tom Clancy remarked in a casual tone. "We 
 were just looking at that picture you took of him, 
 in Guerrero, and he recognized it at once." 
 
 Van Cleve, whose gaze had transferred itself to 
 Clancy when the latter spoke, returned it again to 
 Keese with an expression of polite surprise. 
 
 "Indeed?" he said, mildly. "Chilton was my 
 superintendent and general manager, in Mexico. 
 He was originally a Southerner, like yourself, I 
 believe. From Virginia, I think he told me." 
 
 Keese nodded. "Yes; that is what he told me. 
 Mr. Clancy conveyed a wrong impression, I 
 imagine, in his statement. I do not know Mr. Chil- 
 ton in the sense that was implied. We were merely 
 traveling acquaintances between New Orleans and 
 Los Angeles, and for a few days after our arrival 
 at the latter place." 
 
 "You found him an interesting companion, I 
 have no doubt?" Van Cleve suggested. 
 
 "Quite so. I expressed the wish to renew my 
 acquaintance with him, as soon as the photograph 
 restored him to memory. But I had quite forgot- 
 ten him. Do you, perhaps, know where he is now, 
 Mr. Van Cleve?" 
 
 "No. Chilton has disappeared unfortunately.
 
 AN EXCHANGE OF WARNINGS 177 
 
 But I think I shall hear from him again, some- 
 time." 
 
 "Mr. Van Cleve," Katherine interposed at that 
 moment, "we had arranged, just before you came, 
 to attend the 'meet' of the Forestbrook Hunt Club, 
 next Thursday. Could you make it possible to be 
 one of us?" 
 
 "I am afraid not, Mrs. Harvard, much as I 
 would like to do so. But the fact is " 
 
 "Mr. Van Cleve has an engagement with me for 
 that afternoon, Katherine," Harvard said when his 
 guest hesitated. "But I will take him down with 
 me when 7 go." 
 
 He turned to Van Cleve. "I had already agreed 
 to join them in time for the dinner. There is noth- 
 ing to prevent you from going down with me, is 
 there?" 
 
 "No. No, indeed. I shall be very glad to da 
 that after we have transacted our business." 
 
 The turn that the conversation had taken re- 
 minded Katherine suddenly of a fact that had 
 entirely escaped her until that moment, and the 
 thought of it sent a vivid flush to her face which 
 receded as quickly as it had appeared, and left it, 
 for an instant only, white and scared. The ar- 
 rangement, as it stood, paired her irrevocably 
 paired her with Benton Keese for the afternoon's 
 cross-country ride; and now, when it was all too 
 late, she realized that there was no possible way to 
 avoid it; at least not without exciting surprise, if 
 not actual comment, from Bingham. She knew, 
 the moment it occurred to her, that Benton Keese
 
 would make every effort to keep close to her dur- 
 ing the fox hunt, and notwithstanding the half- 
 confidences that she had exchanged with Clancy 
 and the conversation she had had with Betty on the 
 same topic, she knew that those two would forget 
 everybody else but themselves that day. 
 
 Lifting her glance she discovered that Keese was 
 regarding her steadily, and that his eyes were shin- 
 ing stealthily, as if he intended to convey to her 
 a silent message of comprehension which he did not 
 wish the others to observe. And again the flush 
 leaped into her face. She felt, for the moment, as 
 if she had tacitly accepted the arrangement which, 
 as she now saw clearly, was directly the consequence 
 of Benton Keese's subtle arts. To her intense re- 
 lief he left his chair at that moment with the an- 
 nouncement that he must go, much as he regretted 
 to do so ; and Clancy, who was torn by several con- 
 flicting desires, surrendered to the one which he 
 considered to be his plain duty, and said, as he got 
 upon his feet : 
 
 "I'll chase along with you, Keese." 
 
 He caught what he chose to consider a reproach- 
 ful glance from Betty, although in reality it was 
 merely one of surprise; and in another moment 
 the two men were in the street. 
 
 "Odd, isn't it, that you should happen to have 
 known Chilton?" Tom remarked after he had 
 lighted a cigar and they were pacing leisurely down 
 the avenue side by side. 
 
 "Is it?" Keese replied lazily. He had declined 
 Clancy's offer of a cigar and had lighted an Egyp-
 
 AN EXCHANGE OF WARNINGS 179 
 
 tian cigarette from his own elaborately mono- 
 grammed case; the same one that Rushton had 
 seen him make use of in front of the hotel, after 
 discarding the one that he had previously rolled. 
 
 At the opposite side of the avenue, unseen by 
 either Clancy or Keese, Rushton was pacing slowly 
 along after them. He was on the job. 
 
 "More odd, still, that your sister, at her first 
 glance at his picture should have fancied that she 
 saw in it some sort of a resemblance to you," Tom 
 continued imperturbably. 
 
 "There is no accounting for Betty's fancies, 
 Clancy," Keese replied with a light laugh. "They 
 are as sudden and as changeable as shadows 
 and just about as substantial; and, in that respect it 
 does not much matter what form they may happen 
 to take." 
 
 Keese closed the statement with a little chuckle. 
 
 "I suppose," Tom said, "that you mean that re- 
 mark as a sort of continuance of your metaphor of 
 the hunting field." 
 
 Keese shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "I mean it as a kindness, at least, Clancy," he 
 said. "Betty wins hearts in just the same way that 
 she picks wild flowers in the woods and fields. She 
 holds them for a moment in her hand, admires them 
 and chucks them aside for fresher ones." 
 
 "Is it a er family trait, Mr. Keese?" 
 
 "Possibly. I had not thought of that. It is, 
 however, Betty's way. So be on your guard, my 
 friend." 
 
 "Thank you," Tom replied solemnly. "I suppose
 
 180 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 I ought to thank you, and I do. However, to tell 
 you the truth, if I am to accept as fact what you 
 have said in regard to your sister, and if I am 
 to consider you as representing the 'family/ fickle 
 fancy is not a trait; or, if it is, the characteristic 
 was overlooked when you were fashioned." 
 
 "Meaning just what, Mr. Clancy?" 
 
 "Nothing; that is, nothing more than this: If I 
 read you correctly and for some unexplained rea- 
 son I think I do you are one who is very far 
 indeed from being fickle. In fact, it would not 
 surprise me at all if you were to expand at this 
 moment into a burst of confidence and admit to me 
 that you are still madly in love with your first 
 love." 
 
 "Does your gift of penetration go so far as to 
 suggest who the 'first' love may have been, Mr. 
 Clancy?" 
 
 "Quite so. A blind man could see that, you 
 know." 
 
 There was an interval of silence which it was 
 evident that Keese did not intend to break of his 
 own accord, and then Tom added, speaking in an 
 apparently careless tone : 
 
 "You see we are even now. You were kind 
 enough to warn me, a moment ago, lest I might 
 cast my bread upon waters that would not give it 
 back. And so, gentle sir my friend, as you ad- 
 dressed me I feel it my duty to return the com- 
 pliment." 
 
 Keese came to a full stop. Tom had won his 
 point. He had succeeded in wounding the heel of
 
 AN EXCHANGE OF WARNINGS 181 
 
 Achilles. He had touched a spot which aroused the 
 fiery Southern temper of Benton Keese. 
 
 "What the devil do you mean by that?" Keese 
 demanded hotly. Then, before Tom could reply, 
 or had made an effort to do so, he laughed aloud, 
 resumed his way down the avenue, and added, 
 with a well-assumed appearance of forced cor- 
 diality : 
 
 "Moths like ourselves, Clancy, delight to singe 
 their wings, provided only that the fire is hot 
 enough to suit us. Dear me ! Here we are at Fif- 
 ty-ninth Street, and I must leave you. Many 
 thanks for the implied warning, old chap; only, 
 really you know, it wasn't necessary. And I am 
 afraid very much afraid indeed! that in your 
 case, it was, and is, quite important that you should 
 heed mine."
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 BINGHAM HARVARD'S QUIET WAY 
 
 "Bingham," Van Cleve asked, soon after Lady 
 Kate and Betty had gone from the room for an 
 exchange of confidences, following upon the de- 
 parture of Tom Clancy and Benton Keese, "are 
 you particularly acquainted with the characteristics, 
 traits and mannerisms of Southerners, generally?" 
 
 He had lighted a huge, black cigar and was lean- 
 ing back comfortably in the chair, and his strong, 
 handsome face, eminently patrician in every line of 
 it, expressed nothing more than mild curiosity. 
 Harvard did not smoke. 
 
 "I am afraid that I cannot help you as I have 
 only known one intimately," the young banker 
 replied, smilingly, "and that one is Katherine. 
 Why do you ask?" 
 
 "I have never known any of them intimately," 
 Van Cleve answered. "Unless it was Chilton; and 
 intimacy would hardly be the word to apply to my 
 association with him. But if you had replied to my 
 question in the affirmative, it would have been fol- 
 lowed by another one that had occurred to me." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 "This: Does one Southerner whom you meet 
 casually, inevitably remind you, in some inexplica- 
 ble manner, of others whom you may have 
 known ?" 
 
 182
 
 BINGHAM HARVARD'S QUIET WAY 183 
 
 Harvard studied upon the question a moment be- 
 fore he replied. Then he said: 
 
 "In the abstract, yes; I think so. I know per- 
 fectly well to what you allude, Mr. Van Cleve, and 
 I want to be entirely fair in my reply. There is 
 something about Benton Keese that touches a fa- 
 miliar note of memory, and the familiar note does, 
 very remotely, suggest Holbrook Chilton. That is 
 what you meant, isn't it?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "I was impressed by something of the sort the 
 first time I saw him, although I did not then con- 
 nect it with Chilton. In fact, I had not done so 
 until this evening; and I doubt if it would have 
 occurred to me even to-night had it not been for a 
 remark his sister made to all of us about the photo- 
 graph." 
 
 "What was that?" 
 
 "She thought, from a distance at her first 
 glance, and before she had really seen the picture 
 that it was her brother." 
 
 "Then it was something in the pose, probably, 
 that suggested the thought?" 
 
 "Undoubtedly." 
 
 "Of course," Van Cleve announced quietly, "it 
 is utterly preposterous for us to connect the two 
 men in more than a contemplative way. But I 
 think that the effect that Mr. Keese had upon me 
 at the moment I was introduced to him was very 
 much the same as the impression made upon Miss 
 Betty when she first caught sight of the picture." 
 
 "I don't think that I exactly understand what
 
 184 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 you mean, Mr. Van Cleve," Harvard said, wrin- 
 kling his brows. 
 
 "Shall I be entirely plain?" 
 
 "Please." 
 
 "The first swift glance that I had of Mr. Keese 
 when we were introduced brought Chilton as for- 
 cibly to my mind as if he had been dropped down 
 into the room in front of me; and Holbrook Chil- 
 ton was as far from my thoughts at the moment as 
 China or Mexico, or the private office at your bank. 
 But, as in the case of Mrss Betty, the notion was 
 instantly dispelled. It disappeared, utterly; and 
 afterward, although I studied the man covertly and 
 closely, I could discover nothing about him to ac- 
 count for that first impulsive idea." 
 
 "You just now suggested that it was something 
 about the pose of the picture which brought the 
 idea into Betty's mind. Was it the pose that sug- 
 gested it to you, do you think?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "What should you say it was?" 
 
 "I don't know unless it was something in his 
 eyes. But, I don't see why we are discussing this 
 question at all. Keese is not Chilton. I am as posi- 
 tive about that as I am that he did, somehow, bring 
 the fellow to mind. Besides " He hesitated. 
 
 "Well, Mr. Van Cleve?" 
 
 "The whole suggestion is utterly preposterous, 
 as I said before. Benton Keese is the brother of 
 Mrs. Harvard's best friend and life-long associate. 
 Indeed, as I understand it, he was himself a life- 
 long associate of hers."
 
 BINGHAM HARVARD'S QUIET WAY 185 
 
 "The fact remains," Harvard said quietly, "that 
 Benton Keese left his home in Kentucky within a 
 very short time after -Katherine came from there 
 to New York and that was, approximately, about 
 the time of Chilton's appearance in Mexico." 
 
 Van Cleve nodded; and he said with a smile: 
 
 "That, of course, is a mere coincidence; and 
 also it is partly accounted for by the incident of 
 the meeting between Keese and Chilton in the Pull- 
 man car of the Southern Pacific train. Then, again 
 and this had escaped both of us if there had 
 been any real connection between the two men 
 Keese would scarcely have permitted himself to 
 recognize, and claim acquaintance with, the original 
 of the picture. But, my dear Harvard, it is utter 
 folly for us even to discuss such a thing. Besides, 
 it is an affront to your guest; and to his beautiful 
 sister who is your wife's best friend as well as 
 guest and to you, also." 
 
 "I could not help noticing that you were study- 
 ing the man," Harvard said, ignoring the last re- 
 mark of Van Cleve's. 
 
 "I hope that he did not notice it. I was not 
 aware that I made the fact so plain." 
 
 "I think," Harvard replied slowly, "that Benton 
 Keese is a man who notices most things that occur 
 in his presence. But if he did notice it the effect 
 upon him could have been only one of two kinds." 
 
 "How do you mean, Harvard ?" 
 
 "He should have been either flattered or fright- 
 ened." 
 
 "Humph!"
 
 186 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 ' "Flattered by your regard, if he is really nothing 
 more nor less than Benton Keese. And dismayed, 
 if not actually frightened by your close attention 
 to him, in case he has been masquerading as one 
 Holbrook Chilton of our mutual acquaintance." 
 
 "Good Lord, Bingham! You don't for a mo- 
 ment think that possible, do you?" Van Cleve fairly 
 gasped the question. 
 
 "No." Harvard replied with deliberation; and 
 he added, carefully selecting his words : "No. I 
 do not think that. And yet, barring your non-rec- 
 ognition of him and mine also the situation is 
 just possible." 
 
 Van Cleve was about to reply, but Harvard went 
 on quickly: 
 
 "Wait a moment, Mr. Van Cleve. I want to 
 make myself entirely plain, if that is possible. You 
 know next to nothing concerning an experience 
 I passed through while I was paying-teller at the 
 bank; and I will not burden you with a recital of 
 it.* You do know enough about it to understand 
 what I shall say." 
 
 "Possibly." 
 
 "It was a bitter experience, and the fact that in 
 its utmost extremity I discovered Katherine and 
 won her love is its only atonement. But it taught 
 me that things are not always what they seem to 
 be; that circumstances of past associations cannot 
 always be relied upon ; that truth is frequently much 
 harder to establish than falsity." 
 
 "I think I understand you. It is your idea to 
 give this man the benefit of the doubt both ways. 
 *See "Alias the Night Wind."
 
 BINGHAM HARVARD'S QUIET WAY 187 
 
 That remark is a free translation of a Spanish 
 proverb which I have sometimes thought is very 
 apt. All the same, it is quite plain to me that you 
 do not like Mr. Benton Keese." 
 
 "No. My dislike for him is instinctive rather 
 than actual. In a measure, too, it is the conse- 
 quence of a very human prejudice. Keese was for- 
 merly a suitor for Katherine's hand in marriage. 
 He had the active support of Katherine's parents 
 more, I think, because of old family relations and 
 associations than anything else. I am telling this 
 to you, Mr. Van Cleve, precisely as I would tell it 
 to Mr. Chester." 
 
 "I understand, Bingham." 
 
 "There is no doubt of the insistence of his suit. 
 It was because of his perseverance in spite of her 
 negatives, and of the pressure that he induced 
 Katherine's father and mother to put upon her that 
 she fled from them and came to New York." 
 
 Van Cleve nodded comprehendingly. 
 
 "Neither is there any doubt that Keese was 
 deeply desperately is possibly a better word to 
 express it in love with Katherine. Nor can there 
 be any doubt to the mind of one who is ordinarily 
 observant that he is so now." 
 
 "Surely you are not " 
 
 Harvard interrupted with quiet laughter. 
 
 "Jealous? Hardly that, sir. But the elemental, 
 primitive man inside of me resents the fact. You 
 understand that, don't you?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "I can see, too, that Katherine recognizes it
 
 188 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 and resents it much more bitterly than I do. To 
 me it is a condition with which, in an abstract way, 
 I can sympathize ; but to her it amounts to very lit- 
 tle less than a positive affront. I am sure, because 
 I have observed closely, that were it not for the 
 presence of Betty in our home Katherine would find 
 an excuse for not receiving him. And I hope you 
 will not misunderstand me now I am inclined to 
 believe that Keese brought his sister here from the 
 South purposely to avoid that very exigency." 
 
 "It seems to me," Van Cleve remarked uneasily, 
 "that we are drifting away from the original topic, 
 Bingham." 
 
 "No. On the contrary I am getting back to it. 
 I told you a little bit ago that from the first meet- 
 ing with Keese he sounded a note of familiarity 
 in my consciousness." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "I have thought upon it, and studied it con- 
 stantly, since then, but not once with the most re- 
 mote suggestion of associating him with Holbrook 
 Chilton until to-night." 
 
 "But, now?" 
 
 "Now, beginning with that impulsive exclama- 
 tion from Betty, and followed by a much more 
 careful observation of the man himself, the asso- 
 ciation in my mind at least is unmistakable ; and 
 yet, like yourself, I am entirely unable to put my 
 mental finger upon a single characteristic, gesture, 
 or feature, tone of the voice, glance of the eye or 
 mannerism, that will afford even the vaguest sup- 
 port to the idea. And so pardon me yet another
 
 BINGHAM HARVARD'S QUIET WAY 189 
 
 moment a few questions which possibly you can 
 answer, occur to me." 
 
 "We are drifting very far afield, Bingham." 
 "I know that and we will either drift farther 
 still, or we will be brought back to the home base 
 for a new start." 
 
 "Well, what are the questions you would ask?" 
 "You were more or less closely associated with 
 the man Chilton for some time. You are observant. 
 Very little escapes you. There are certain features 
 about every human being which cannot be thor- 
 oughly disguised or at least that is the claim of 
 criminologists. They are, roughly, the expression, 
 shape, color and habit of using the eyes ; the shape 
 of the ears, particularly at the tops, and the lobes, 
 and as to position in relation to the other features ; 
 the shape and position of the nose,, not in profile, 
 but in full front view, and in the measurements 
 from the tip of it to the lobes of each ear; the lines 
 of the mouth and the flitting expressions of those 
 lines not the staid ones. Not the outer lines of 
 the lips, w r hich might be concealed temporarily by 
 mustache and beard, but of the mouth itself, which 
 is never entirely concealed. 
 
 "A moment ago you referred to the eyes of Ben- 
 ton Keese, and so I ask you what of them, or of 
 any feature I have named, suggests Chilton?" 
 
 "Upon my word, Harvard, save for that vague 
 impression of suggestion which still remains, there 
 is not one expression, one feature, or one manner- 
 ism to support the theory," Van Cleve replied with 
 studied conviction.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 A LEOPARD AND HIS SPOTS 
 
 Anderson Van Cleve entered the hotel where he 
 was staying temporarily shortly after eleven. 
 When he called for his key at the desk an envelope 
 was also handed to him. It contained the card of 
 Thomas Clancy. 
 
 On the back of it Tom had penciled the follow- 
 ing: 
 
 DEAR MR. VAN CLEVE: 
 
 No matter at what hour you find this card, will 
 you please come to my house to see me before you 
 retire? T. C. 
 
 "How long a time is it since the gentleman was 
 here?" he asked of the clerk who gave him the mes- 
 sage; and then remembering that a time stamp 
 would be on the back of the envelope, he turned it 
 over. The clerk replied: 
 
 "The envelope was left at the desk by a mes- 
 senger about an hour ago, sir." 
 
 Van Cleve thrust the card and envelope into a 
 pocket and was thoughtful for a moment. He did 
 not perceive that a young man of Jewish appear- 
 ance who had entered the hotel immediately in his 
 wake, was regarding him furtively. The young 
 
 190
 
 A LEOPARD AND HIS SPOTS 191 
 
 man went out again when he did so and signaled to 
 a second taxi after Van Cleve had summoned one. 
 
 Afterward the second taxi followed the first one 
 until it had drawn up before Tom Clancy's home, 
 where the chauffeur of it composed himself in the 
 attitude of awaiting the return of his "fare." 
 Clancy admitted his caller himself and led him 
 into the library at the rear, where he put forward 
 a box of cigars and other refreshments while he ex- 
 plained the reason for the summons. 
 
 "I never would have made a successful diplomat, 
 Mr. Van Cleve," he said, "so I will go straight to 
 the point. I asked you to come here to-night as 
 soon as you returned to your hotel because I be- 
 lieved it necessary that we should discuss a certain 
 person of our acquaintance." 
 
 "Keese? Or, Chilton?" Tom's caller inquired 
 with a half smile. 
 
 "Both. Or, to be more explicit and direct in my 
 reply, and in order to explain in a single word what 
 I mean yes." 
 
 "The one word, Mr. Clancy, implies that you be- 
 lieve Keese and Chilton to be identical;" and Van 
 Cleve gave voice to a meaningless remark which 
 is usually spelled "Humph!" only the orthography 
 never properly expresses it. 
 I do," Tom replied quietly. 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "I'm damned if I can tell you why and that's 
 flat. But I do, just the same. And the conviction, 
 for it amounts to that, puts me into the very deuce 
 of a pickle all around."
 
 192 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 "Cannot you give me some sort of a reason for 
 your conviction?" 
 
 "No more than you can give me one for yours ; 
 and I am quite certain that your belief is approxi- 
 mately the same as mine, sir." 
 
 "No, Clancy, it is not. But I will say this : If 
 I were situated as you are, in relation to this whole 
 affair, I have not a doubt that I would think exactly 
 as you do." 
 
 "What do you mean by that ?" 
 
 "This: You have seen and talked with Chilton 
 only two or three times. I have seen him and 
 talked with him, and hobnobbed with him hundreds 
 of times. I have been in his company for days at 
 a time. We have traveled together across leagues 
 of territory in the saddle, side by side. I have 
 known him when serious danger threatened, and 
 have always found him to be cool, resourceful, self- 
 reliant, and brave, and have been enabled to observe 
 him very closely in such extremities. I have seen 
 him and observed him at Mexican fiestas, when 
 there was dancing and music and laughter all 
 around us. I have seen him in my office, engaged 
 in business affairs, and in his own rooms when he 
 was host and I was guest. And always I have 
 studied him more closely than I would have done 
 with another man because there was always an 
 indefinable something about the man that impressed 
 me with a vague uneasiness. 
 
 "And now and this is the point I cannot dis- 
 cover one single characteristic, mannerism, gesture, 
 or feature of Benton Keese's which was also Chil-
 
 A LEOPARD AXD HIS SPOTS 193 
 
 ton's. And I do not believe that it is within the 
 scope and power of any man to disguise himself so 
 thoroughly." 
 
 "Once upon a time I learned to speak Spanish 
 fluently, Mr. Van Cleve," Tom said. 
 
 "Yes? What has that got to do with it?" 
 
 "I remember a Spanish proverb that I learned. 
 It has a lot of meaning, too; and it seems to apply 
 just here." 
 
 "What was it?" 
 
 "Translated to English, and rather liberally, it 
 means: 'When you study the motives of a friend 
 or an enemy, give him the benefit of the doubt, both 
 ways.' " 
 
 Van Cleve smiled broadly. 
 
 "I quoted the same proverb to Bingham Harvard 
 this evening," he said. 
 
 "Were you discussing Keese?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Then you were of the opinion that Keese might 
 beChilton? AndBinghad the same idea, did he?" 
 
 "I won't go so far as to say that. But the sug- 
 gestion was made by one of us that it is within 
 possibility that it might be so." 
 
 "Which one made it?" 
 
 "Harvard, I think. But you have not told me 
 why you quoted that old proverb." 
 
 "I mentioned it because, in studying this ques- 
 tion, I have attempted to follow out the rule of 
 that proverb. I have undertaken to give the man 
 the benefit of the doubt both ways." 
 
 "I am still in the dark, Mr. Clancy."
 
 il94 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 "Do you play chess, Mr. Van Cleve? Yes? 
 Then you know how a good chess player studies 
 his game a great many moves ahead; how he ar- 
 ranges several plans, and seeks to anticipate what 
 the moves of his opponent would be, for each 
 plan ; and how he finally selects what he believes to 
 be the best plan, and follows it out tenaciously 
 unless an entirely unexpected move by his opponent 
 forces him to change it?" 
 
 "It seems to me that we are getting farther and 
 farther away from the significance of the Spanish 
 proverb." 
 
 4< No. We are getting closer to it." 
 
 "How so?" 
 
 "If I give Chilton the benefit of the doubt, both 
 ways studying him from the time that he entered 
 your employ, and assuming that he is now Benton 
 Keese; but observing him for the time being only 
 as Chilton I am brought to the conclusion that 
 the man had observed you and your methods and 
 your business affairs rather closely, before he ap- 
 plied to you for employment." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "The various ramifications of your ventures in 
 Mexico was the chess board. Your mines, your 
 contracts, your investments, your fortune, or a 
 great part of it, and the work you were doing, 
 were the pawns in the game. You were the king 
 he was to checkmate, and you lost your queen irre- 
 trievably when you made him your general man- 
 ager and put him in charge of your affairs. He 
 took away your rooks, your bishops and your
 
 A LEOPARD AND HIS SPOTS 195 
 
 knights when your attention was diverted by the 
 unsettled conditions by which you were surrounded. 
 He would have driven you into a corner and check- 
 mated you if you had not made that sudden and to- 
 tally unexpected move of throwing everything, 
 down there, to the dogs and returning to New 
 York. I verily believe, Mr. Van Cleve, if it had 
 not been for that you would be dead by now, and 
 that Harvard and I would be entertaining Chilton 
 here in your name." 
 
 Van Cleve nodded as if he thought so, too. 
 
 "But," Tom continued, "you did make that unex- 
 pected move, and at exactly the right time. Even 
 so, he has driven you into a corner where you can 
 only move to and fro on a couple of squares while 
 you watch and wait for him, through his overcon- 
 fidence, to make a false move." 
 
 "I entirely understand the simile you draw, 
 Clancy. And, so far as the man Chilton is con- 
 cerned, I am ready to accept it. In fact, I have 
 done so already. 
 
 "But you have said not a thing, as yet, to con- 
 vince me that Chilton is Keese, or that a man can 
 change his spots (I mean his personality, of course) 
 as effectively and completely as Keese has done, 
 if he was Chilton." 
 
 "You forget entirely the one important thing, 
 Mr. Van Cleve." 
 
 "Do I? What is it?" 
 
 "Benton Keese is not disguised. Benton Keese. 
 has not changed a spot." 
 
 "Eh? I do not "
 
 196 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 "Holbrook Chilton was in disguise, from the very 
 first time you ever saw him, until the very last time." 
 
 "You mean by that just what, Mr. Clancy?" 
 
 "I mean that every move that Chilton made in 
 the game he was playing with you for an opponent 
 had been previously thought out. That every ges- 
 ture he employed, every mannerism he used, every 
 figure of speech he adopted, every peculiarity he 
 seemed to possess, was assumed for your benefit. 
 I mean that he was always fully informed of your 
 coming before you arrived, and was prepared for 
 it; that he was surrounded by men who would not 
 notice any change in his attitude or demeanor be- 
 tween the occasions when you were present and 
 when you were not or, if they did so, would at- 
 tribute such a change to the presence of the 'boss/ 
 I mean that in all the times when you were to- 
 gether in Mexico Chilton was playing and doing 
 it thoroughly a part that he had carefully studied 
 in each and every detail, and that the Holbrook 
 Chilton you knew was no more the real man than 
 Shylock was when Henry Irving played that 
 character. And, lastly, I mean this: that Benton 
 Keese is merely his natural self; that in him you see 
 only the great actor in private life ; and, as in the 
 case of all great actors, he does not at all resemble 
 any one of the characters he assumes in his play- 
 acting." 
 
 "That would presuppose that Holbrook Chilton 
 came into my employ with the deliberate intention 
 of robbing me finally." 
 
 "Exactly. And of murdering you, too, doubt- 
 less, and so obtaining all you possessed. But you
 
 A LEOPARD AND HIS SPOTS 197 
 
 made an unexpected move toward the end of the 
 game, and so, let us say, saved a fairly good chunk 
 of your bacon." 
 
 "But, Clancy, it would also presuppose that the 
 man knew a great deal about my personal affairs. 
 That I am practically alone in the world; that if I 
 should disappear, and he was to assume my name 
 and place and fortune there would be practically 
 nobody to question his claim; nobody but Sterling 
 Chester." 
 
 "Yes ; and in reply to that we have the fact that 
 Chilton somehow knew that Chester was traveling 
 in Egypt, when you did not know it." 
 
 "The whole thing amazes me, Mr. Clancy. I con- 
 fess it. And your arguments do impress me. I 
 must admit that, too. But, if your assumption is 
 correct, how are we to establish the truth of it?" 
 
 "That remains to be seen. Let me ask you this : 
 Have you noticed that you have been followed and 
 spied upon recently?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "I have. So had Rushton. So will you, if you 
 watch out. I'll bet you a hat that you were fol- 
 lowed to this house to-night, and will be followed 
 back to your hotel when you go out. What for, 
 and by whom, and all the rest of it, you wish to 
 ask? For the ultimate security of Benton Keese, 
 and by operatives from the Roland Detective 
 Agency (so Rushton informed me), which I sus- 
 pect is employed by Keese. And the 'all the rest 
 of it' is easy enough to guess. Mr. Benton Keese, 
 alias Holbrook Chilton, wishes to anticipate any 
 and all moves that may be made against him."
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 THE OTHER SIDE OF BENTON KEESE 
 
 As for Benton Keese, our good friend Rodney 
 Rushton followed after him. When that person 
 parted with Clancy at Fifth Avenue and Fifty- 
 ninth Street he went directly to his hotel, which, 
 as it happened, was the same at which Van Cleve 
 was staying, the Mammoth; and he went at once 
 to his rooms, where he waited with a considerable 
 show of impatience the anticipated arrival of a cer- 
 tain Mr. Dudley Roland, who, nevertheless, did not 
 make his appearance until after one o'clock. But 
 when he did appear, Rushton, who was waiting and 
 watching, saw him and knew well his business and 
 where he was going. 
 
 Keese motioned the man to a chair and glanced 
 rapidly and impatiently through the written reports 
 contained on several sheets of paper which Roland 
 gave to him. But he crushed them in his hands 
 and tossed them into an open grate, where he 
 touched a match to them before he had half scanned 
 their contents. 
 
 "I want no written reports of what you do for 
 me," he said sharply. "You might be hit by an 
 automobile or drop dead when you are bringing 
 them to me. And I don't care a damn what Oper- 
 
 198
 
 OTHER SIDE OF BENTON KEESE 199 
 
 atives No. i, or 2, or anybody else does. I want 
 results. 
 
 "So, now, suppose you tell me as concisely as 
 possible just what those reports contained. I did 
 not read them all." 
 
 "Van Cleve, Clancy, Redhead and two of his op- 
 eratives, Mrs. Harvard, and ex-Lieutenant Rushton 
 were all at Harvard's bank late this afternoon, in 
 private conference in the directors' room. I don't 
 know anything about the subject of the confer- 
 ence." 
 
 "The subject does not matter. Go on." 
 
 "Rushton and Van Cleve left the bank together. 
 They came to this hotel and spent more than an 
 hour together in Van Cleve's rooms. Rushton left 
 here shortly after five o'clock. He went to his own 
 home, remained inside the house only a few min- 
 utes, came out with a" small grip in his hand, went 
 to the Pennsylvania station, bought a ticket for 
 St. Louis and went away. My operative left on the 
 same train." 
 
 Keese lifted one hand to enjoin silence, and spent 
 a moment in deep thought. Then : 
 
 "Go on," he said. 
 
 "Clancy came out of the bank with Mrs. Har- 
 vard, dismissed his own car and rode home with her 
 but you know that, because you reached there at 
 the same time they did with a lady." 
 
 "I thought I told you that your operatives were 
 not to know me at all," Keese said sharply. 
 
 "They do not, sir. I happened to be on that part 
 of the job myself."
 
 200 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "Harvard remained at the bank until nearly six. 
 Then he went home. Van Cleve dined here at the 
 hotel, smoked, and read the paper at the table after- 
 ward, and then walked all the way to Harvard's 
 house. You came out of the house with 
 Clancy " 
 
 "Never mind what / did. I am reasonably well 
 informed as to that." 
 
 "When you parted with Clancy at Fifty-ninth 
 Street he went home. Half an hour later a uni- 
 formed messenger boy appeared at the house and 
 came away a minute or so afterward with a letter 
 in his hand. He brought it to this hotel. My op- 
 erative used a nearby telephone a few minutes 
 later and inquired of the desk-clerk if a messenger 
 had lately left a letter for Mr. Van Cleve and if 
 Mr. Van Cleve had yet received it. The message 
 from Clancy was for him of course. 
 
 "Van Cleve arrived at the hotel a little after 
 eleven. He read the letter from Clancy and went 
 outside at once, called a taxi and was driven to 
 Clancy's house. He stayed there an hour. He is 
 now in his rooms on the tenth floor of this hotel." 
 
 "What about the man you call Redhead and his 
 two assistants, who attended the meeting at the 
 bank?" 
 
 "One of the operatives trailed Rushton and Van 
 Cleve when they left the bank together. To make 
 it short, that fellow stuck to Rushton and finally 
 left New York on the same train with him. He 
 kept in the background, and I do not know whether
 
 OTHER SIDE OF BENTON KEESE 201 
 
 Rushton is aware of the man's nearness or not. 
 The presumption is that he does know it, arid that 
 the two are traveling together without having the 
 appearance of doing so." 
 
 Keese shook his head with emphasis. 
 
 "I don't agree with you," he said. "But that 
 doesn't matter. Where did the remaining two go ?" 
 
 "To Redhead's office. I had them dropped 
 there." 
 
 "Will your man who followed Rushton stick to 
 him?" 
 
 "Surest thing you know, Mr. Keese." 
 
 "Is he a good man? Can he do the job without 
 being caught at it, even by so clever a fellow as 
 Rushton?" 
 
 "He is the very best ever. If he can't do it, 
 nobody can. He will hang to the trail if Rushton 
 leads him around the world." 
 
 "Do you know anything about the other fellow? 
 The Redhead operative who is on the same train?" 
 
 "I know all about him." 
 
 "Who and what is he?" 
 
 "He used to be a headquarters detective. He 
 was retired a few years ago and went with Red- 
 head. His name is Banta. I'll say this for him: 
 they don't make any better detectives for the reg- 
 ular force than he was. He used to be a side part- 
 ner with Rushton down there, and that is what 
 makes me think that the two are really together. 
 Rushton may not have known that Redhead was 
 sending Banta away with him when he started, but 
 you can bet your last dollar that he knows it by
 
 202 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 this time. I'll receive a wire from Lazarus as soon 
 as they get to St. Louis." 
 
 "I think that will do for to-night," Keese said. 
 "Make an extra effort to know everything about 
 Clancy and Van Cleve from now on. Never mind 
 Harvard for the present. He is not likely to need 
 watching on my account until Rushton gets back. 
 To-morrow, by noon, I want a complete and thor- 
 ough report from that new maid of Mrs. Har- 
 vard's. You said that she was one of your people, 
 or that you could own her. Was that true?" 
 
 "Yes. I'll prove it to-morrow noon," Roland re- 
 plied, and bowed himself out.
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 WHEN IT WAS BETTY'S MOVE 
 
 "It is your move to-day, Betty." 
 
 The Kentucky girl lifted her glance quickly to 
 her brother's eyes and regarded him with a steady 
 gaze. But she made no reply in words, and Keese 
 went on in his quietest tone, which had something 
 of the suggestiveness in it of the purring of a 
 tiger-cat, and with a faint smile showing about the 
 corners of his attractive mouth: 
 
 "Don't forget about that fifty thousand dollars 
 I have promised you and don't forget that you 
 have no choice about earning it, either. You've 
 got to earn it, Betty; or, if you do not, I promise 
 you that you will wish you had." 
 
 "Are you threatening me, Ben?" she asked her 
 brother quietly, and with a brief flash in her eyes, 
 to which he gave no heed even if he noticed it. 
 
 "Yes," he replied calmly, as if it were the most 
 natural thing in the world to suggest threats of 
 dire consequences to his own sister. "I am warn- 
 ing you, if you prefer that expression." 
 
 She shrugged her shapely shoulders and turned 
 her head to look across the field, all dotted as it was 
 with riders in hunting costumes, with men and 
 women afoot and in the saddle, with gaily colored 
 groups gathered here and there, with prancing or 
 
 203
 
 204 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 plunging mounts that were all eagerness to be off 
 in the chase. A throng of automobiles, carriages, 
 vehicles of all descriptions, saddled cobs and spec- 
 tators on foot, was drawn up beyond the barrier 
 awaiting the signal of the M. F. H. The day was 
 perfect and the meet was always an event. Betty 
 and her brother had drawn a little apart from their 
 immediate neighbors or, to be more explicit, he 
 had signaled her to ride aside with him. Katherine 
 Harvard was surrounded by a group of friends, of 
 whom Tom Clancy was one, close at hand. Hounds 
 were baying, horses were neighing, men were call- 
 ing greetings or comments across slight spaces to 
 other men. The time for the start was near. 
 
 Miss Keese made no reply to that last remark. 
 Her brother waited an instant for her to do so. 
 Then he said : 
 
 "Walk your hunter a little way beside me. I 
 want to make a few suggestions to you, and I do 
 not care to be interrupted. Come." 
 
 She obeyed him. And in another moment he 
 utterly amazed her by the question he asked, which 
 was not at all what she had expected. 
 
 "How much in earnest are you in this affair with 
 Tom Clancy?" 
 
 Betty's face flushed to a crimson instantly. Her 
 eyes flashed ominously as she turned toward him 
 and replied with almost childlike petulance: 
 
 "That is none of your business, Ben Keese." 
 
 "Granted, and without a murmur, my dear sister 
 unless you force me to make it my business," he 
 replied with a smile that was not pleasant, since
 
 WHEN IT WAS BETTY'S MOVE 205 
 
 being his sister and knowing him as she did, she 
 understood the menace of it. 
 
 "How much of that music-talk that you played 
 to him last Monday evening did you mean, Betty?" 
 
 "That is none of your business, either." 
 
 "Which, for you, is another manner of saying 
 that you meant all of it," he said, and the half 
 derisive smile on his face grew wider. "Oh, I was 
 listening, and watching, too, sister. I heard it all 
 and saw it all. A deaf man and a blind man might 
 have done the same, I think. Well, Clancy has 
 got plenty of coin and he comes of a good family, 
 so I haven't the slightest objection to your " 
 
 "As if it would make any difference if you had!" 
 she interrupted him hotly. 
 
 "Oh, it would make a difference; a very great 
 one, my dear sister. I could spoil your little ro- 
 mance in a jiffy, if I wanted to; and I may want 
 to. That all depends upon you. Do you under- 
 stand that?" 
 
 She shuddered in spite of herself; not because 
 she believed what he said, but because all of her 
 life she had feared this brother of hers and his 
 subtle and unholy ways with people who offended 
 him. He saw and understood that shudder, and 
 laughed quietly. 
 
 "Do you understand that?" he repeated. 
 
 "I know what you intend to imply by the words 
 you use," she answered. 
 
 "Then that is sufficient. You have a good mount 
 under you, Betty, and there is neither man nor 
 woman here to-day who is your superior in the
 
 306 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 hunting field. I know that, and you know it, too." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "I am not going to impose a difficult task upon 
 you." 
 
 "What is the task that you would impose if I 
 should consent to it?" she demanded, still with 
 some heat; and there was nothing in her manner 
 to indicate that she had any idea of consenting to 
 anything that he might ask. 
 
 "You have only to hold up a finger, Betty, and 
 Clancy will nod his head. He will sit up and speak, 
 lie down and roll over, play dead, or eat out of your 
 hand at your slightest command." 
 
 Keese bent a trifle nearer to her and added : "I 
 want you to lead him a chase that he won't soon 
 forget to-day; and I don't care where it takes you, 
 if only it is far enough away from Katherine. Do 
 you understand that, also?" 
 
 Betty made no reply. Her brother pulled in his 
 horse and turned about so that he faced in the 
 direction from which they had come. She was 
 obliged, perforce, to do the same. Keese nodded 
 his head toward the group they had just left and 
 they could see that Katherine and Qancy had 
 drawn a little apart from the others and appeared 
 to be engaged in earnest conversation together. 
 Benton Keese indulged in one of his inscrutable 
 smiles. 
 
 "I know exactly what Kitten is saying to 
 Clancy," he told his sister. "I know it as well as 
 if I could hear the words. She is telling him that 
 she wants him to keep as close to her as possible
 
 WHEN IT WAS BETTY'S MOVE 207 
 
 during the hunt; she is asking him to ride beside 
 her, from start to finish, if he can even if he is 
 compelled to desert you to do so ; and she is agree- 
 ing to square him with you later. And he is prom- 
 ising. How is that for reading lip movement when 
 I am so far away that I cannot even see their lips ?" 
 he asked, and chuckled. 
 
 Betty was still silent. 
 
 "What is the matter? Have you lost your 
 tongue?" he demanded sharply. 
 
 "No ; nor my ears, either." 
 
 "That is fortunate, at least. Are you going to do 
 as I asked?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "What's that?" 
 
 "You heard me, I think." 
 
 "Do I understand, Elizabeth, that you refuse to 
 do what I have asked?" 
 
 She nodded without speaking. 
 
 "Is this mutiny, my dear? Are you defying 
 me?" he asked with his slow smile. 
 
 "Ben Keese, I am not going to do one single 
 thing that will give you an opportunity to make 
 love to Kitty. Not one. I am not going to do a 
 thing that will give you a chance to be alone with 
 her for one minute, if I can help it and I think 
 I can. You can take your old fifty thousand dollars 
 and go hang with it, for all I care. I would not 
 touch it, even if I were starving and did not have 
 a home to go to. So, there!" 
 
 She brought her hunting crop down sharply upon 
 the flank of her horse simultaneously with that
 
 208 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 last exclamation and shot away from his side be- 
 fore he could reply to her; and he only shrugged 
 his shoulders and smiled while he jogged slowly' 
 after her. 
 
 The eyes of many women sought and followed 
 Benton Keese that day. He was undeniably hand- 
 some, eminently graceful, and he was at his best 
 in the saddle a circumstance of which he was quite 
 conscious, although he was wise enough not to 
 show it. There were few women whom he did not 
 affect in much the same way that Lady Kate felt, 
 and resented, propinquity with him. They were 
 inclined to seek his eyes and to flush and withdraw 
 their own instantly. He seemed to possess the oc- 
 cult power to strip them of their moral armor with 
 a glance; to compel within them, unknowingly but 
 inevitably, a quickening of the heart-beats and to 
 bring to the surface the unwelcome blush of ele- 
 mental consciousness. Always they lowered their 
 eyes or turned them away from his bold gaze with 
 a sense of startled modesty and an uncomfortably 
 rapid pulse and just as certainly would they seek 
 his glances again, stealthily, covertly, and often 
 without the power to resist the mysterious attrac- 
 tion he exerted upon them. 
 
 With the hunt itself and with the gay throng of 
 people who were assembled there at the great event 
 of the year with the Forestbrook Club, w6 have 
 nothing to do; only with the events of which shaped 
 themselves because of that occasion. 
 
 Betty Keese had spent much time in thought 
 after the occurrences of the preceding Monday,
 
 WHEN IT WAS BETTY'S MOVE 209 
 
 when her brother had taken her to ride in his new 
 car solely for the purpose (as she was well aware) 
 of compelling her to his will in the matter of aid- 
 ing his mad scheme for the undoing of Katherine 
 Harvard. His proposal to give her a large sum of 
 money had shocked her not because he had offered 
 to pay it to her for a service she was to perform 
 for him and which he demanded in return for it 
 for Betty knew her brother, and that was like him. 
 But she was shocked because he possessed that 
 much to give, knowing that it could represent but 
 a small part of what he had in store, else he would 
 not have offered it. And she had not doubted his 
 earnestness. 
 
 What she did doubt and she had no reason for 
 doubting other than her intimate understanding of 
 this man who was her own brother was that he 
 could have become possessed of so much money 
 honestly. Betty understood Benton's principles 
 thoroughly ; or, rather, his lack of them. She knew 
 him to be entirely unmoral, and that he was thor- 
 oughly an egotist, a self -worshiper, a person with- 
 out a conscience as she understood the meaning of 
 the word. 
 
 Not for one moment during her conversation 
 with him that Monday afternoon had she wavered 
 in her loyalty to Katherine, although she had per- 
 mitted him to think that she appeared to do so re- 
 luctantly. Nor did she believe that his passion 
 for her friend Kitty was what she would have called 
 the real thing. Katherine Harvard was merely 
 something that he wanted and that had been with-
 
 210 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 held. That was all, according to Betty's under- 
 standing. But what she did know, and what she 
 did fear with all her heart and soul, and what she 
 was determined to prevent at all hazards, was that 
 he would get Katherine by fair means or by foul 
 ones, if the slightest opportunity offered or could 
 be forced. She also knew that Benton Keese would 
 not stop at the commission of any brutality that 
 might seem to him necessary or vital to his selfish 
 interests and designs. 
 
 Then, during the evening that followed, had hap- 
 pened the episode of the photograph and her impul- 
 sive exclamation at the first sight of it. Betty be- 
 lieved in "first impressions" first impulses. Like- 
 wise there had remained with her always certain 
 memories of her childhood, when she was a little 
 girl and her brother was a big boy, which the flash- 
 ing of that picture upon her consciousness had very 
 prominently brought to mind. In a word, Betty 
 was just as shrewd and subtle in her own sweet and 
 pure way as her Brother Benton, and there had 
 remained not the least doubt in her secret thoughts 
 (although she had spoken differently at the time) 
 that the picture really was a photograph of Benton, 
 even though he preferred to deny it. 
 
 And she had sensed, too, the undercurrent of in- 
 terest that had affected the others who were present 
 at the time, although she had not understood it at 
 all. She had asked herself mentally many times 
 since last Monday evening why her brother had 
 denied the picture and his own connection with it, 
 and who and what Benton could have been and
 
 WHEN IT WAS BETTY'S MOVE 211 
 
 done in the character of Holbrook Chilton; and 
 always with the thought of it the memory of his 
 fifty thousand dollars offer to her returned. An- 
 gered and incensed as she was at the moment she 
 turned from Benton and rode galloping away from 
 him, stirred to the depths also by her unswerving 
 loyalty to Katherine, and roused to a pitch of entire 
 defiance of her brother's schemes against her friend 
 by her intuitive horror of them, the scene in the 
 library of Harvard's home last Monday night 
 nevertheless came back to her forcefully before her 
 mount had covered half the distance that separated 
 her from her friends. 
 
 As in a flash, Betty saw, or believed that she did 
 so, and clearly, Benton's apparent reason for deny- 
 ing the photograph. Instantly she understood that 
 in some manner it was associated with his posses- 
 sion of so much money and she read, in the mem- 
 ory of that scene, the fact that there had been dur- 
 ing it an undercurrent of excited interest in the 
 absent character of Chilton which every person in 
 the room, save herself, had felt. 
 
 Suddenly, then, while she was still at some dis- 
 tance from Tom and Kitty, who were drawn apart 
 and evidently awaiting her, she wheeled her horse 
 sharply around and faced her brother again. And 
 he, mistaking her attitude for one of surrender, 
 pulled in his mount and rode leisurely up to her; 
 nor did he make any effort to conceal the half smile 
 of triumph that glowed in his eyes as he ap- 
 proached. Betty sat very still in the saddle, wait-
 
 212 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 ing; and when he was quite close and had come to 
 a stop she said coldly: 
 
 "Benton, I don't know why you denied that you 
 were the Holbrook Chilton of that photograph last 
 Monday night. But you did deny it, and you made 
 everybody but me believe in your denial. You even 
 thought that you made me believe it, too but you 
 didn't. And I could read something between the 
 lines of that scene that was not at all to Mr. Hol- 
 brook Chilton's credit; something that is known to 
 Mr. Van Qeve, to Mr. Harvard, to Tom Clancy, 
 and even to Katherine; something that only I, of 
 all who were present, did not know. But I pro- 
 pose to find out exactly what it is all about, Ben 
 Keese, and if you persist in persecuting Kitty I 
 won't spare you when I do find out, even though 
 you are my brother. 
 
 "You have dared to threaten me, so now I give 
 you back threat for threat." 
 
 She touched her horse with the crop, but her 
 brother bent forward and grasped her bridle-rein. 
 For a moment after that he glared into her defiant 
 eyes menacingly, while a slow and cruel smile bared 
 his white and even teeth. Then, with careful em- 
 phasis, he said, and in a tone that made her shud- 
 der in spite of herself : 
 
 "You will regret this attitude bitterly, Elizabeth ; 
 and, believe me, you have only succeeded in has- 
 tening the destruction of your friend and your 
 own undoing, too." 
 
 Then he released her bridle-rein and rode swiftly 
 past her toward the waiting group of hunters.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 WITH THE PACK IN FULL CRY 
 
 Benton Keese was quite correct when he quoted 
 to Betty what he believed to be the subject-matter 
 that was passing between Katherine and Clancy, for 
 she had been saying almost those very words to 
 Tom. But for their talk together on the subject 
 the preceding Monday, Katherine would not have 
 ventured upon it; but, encouraged by that fact and 
 by certain intangible misgivings by which she was 
 beset concerning the possible incidents of the com- 
 ing chase, and with the positive knowledge that 
 Benton Keese would cling to her side throughout 
 it, she did ask Tom to keep as near to them as pos- 
 sible during the run. And Clancy promised, never 
 doubting that he would be able to keep his word. 
 
 Nevertheless, he was unaware of the possibil- 
 ities of Benton Keese's subtle craft; for Keese had 
 foreseen the likelihood of such a request from 
 Katherine and its undoubted interference with his 
 own plans. And those plans, be it said, he had de- 
 termined to hasten to a consummation in a marked 
 degree, and he had been urged to that decision by 
 reason of the several incidents that had occurred 
 during that memorable Monday afternoon and 
 evening. 
 
 During the episode of the photograph, in Har- 
 213
 
 214 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 yard's library Keese had distinctly the advantage 
 over the others because of his thorough knowledge 
 of the character of Anderson Van Cleve and he 
 read plainly enough that certain undoubted suspi- 
 cions remained in the mind of the miner-contractor 
 afterward. Nor had Keese any fallacies in his 
 own mind concerning the attitude of Clancy. He 
 knew that Tom suspected him, and had done so 
 from the beginning. Also, he had reasoned it out 
 that Clancy had passed his suspicions on to Rush- 
 ton. More than all, he could read in the eyes and 
 manner of Katherine that she, too, harbored grave 
 doubts and surmises which were none the less 
 threatening because they happened to be, as yet, 
 indefinite. 
 
 And then had come the developments of the night 
 that had followed, brought about by the report of 
 Dudley Roland ; the conference at the bank, the in- 
 terview that followed between Rushton and Van 
 Cleve, Clancy's summons to Van Cleve to go to 
 him, Rushton's departure for Mexico for he un- 
 derstood perfectly what the ticket to St. Louis 
 meant. He thought, too, that he knew, what Rush- 
 ton had gone after, and he cursed his own lack of 
 sufficient forethought (the only lapse of the kind 
 that he had been guilty of) that had rendered the 
 success of Rushton's journey possible. 
 
 So from Monday night until Thursday he had 
 kept himself carefully aloof from all of them and 
 had concerned himself with the completion of ar- 
 rangements which he believed would make his final 
 move possible and successful in every way. Just
 
 WITH THE PACK IN FULL CRY 215 
 
 what those arrangements were will presently de-- 
 velop; but in perfecting them it is certain that he 
 saw much of Mr. Dudley Roland, that he paid over 
 to that person some considerable amounts of money 
 and made promises of still greater amounts to be 
 paid upon the happening of stipulated incidents, 
 that he made several trips to one section of the 
 suburbs of the greater city and that he passed the 
 most part of, at least, one afternoon and night in 
 the cafe of a certain hotel where one heard only 
 the Spanish language spoken and where there had 
 been some sums of money passed from him to these 
 persons whose services he had thought it wise to 
 engage. 
 
 The passion of Benton Keese for Katherine was 
 a madness and it had been aggravated a thousand- 
 fold by the fact that another man had won her and 
 possessed her. The money he had stolen was only 
 a means to accomplish the fruition of his mad 
 hopes. All that it could buy, all that it might pro- 
 cure for him, all that it was capable of mastering 
 for his own benefit counted as nothing at all with- 
 out the accomplishment of the one initial passion 
 of his life Katherine. And he had in his imme- 
 diate possession, ready for instant use, a great sum 
 in cash. He had not a doubt that he would be able 
 to meet every emergency and to overcome any and 
 every obstacle that might stand in his way. And 
 there would not be one qualm of conscience to hold 
 him back when the moment came to throw his win- 
 ning cards face upward on the table in the game he 
 was playing. After that ?
 
 316 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 Keese only shrugged his shoulders when he 
 thought of the "afterward." He would meet and 
 reply to that question when it was presented. At 
 least he would have conquered Kitty Maxwilton by 
 then and he believed that he knew how he could 
 make terms with his enemies when the time should 
 come to do so. Like all schemers, he failed to give 
 due credit to the resources of his enemies, although 
 he did realize that the first great coup of his plans 
 must be accomplished before the return to New 
 York of Rushton. 
 
 Betty was not a moment behind him when he 
 pulled rein beside Katherine's thoroughbred mount 
 and her eyes were still flashing with spirit when 
 she drew up at the other side. But if there was 
 something in her thought to which she had in- 
 tended to give expression, it was interrupted by 
 Clancy's cheery announcement: 
 
 "We are going to have a dandy run for our 
 money, Miss Betty. This is the Forestbrook's great 
 day of all the year, you know. And, say, isn't the 
 day itself a perfect corker?" 
 
 Then he bent forward in his saddle and said in 
 a lower tone which the others could not hear : "All 
 the same, Betty dear, I'd chuck the whole business 
 in a minute to steal away somewhere with you, 
 alone." 
 
 Betty flushed and paled a little. Then, with 
 quiet directness, she replied: 
 
 "If you really wish to please me to-day, Mr. 
 Clancy "
 
 WITH THE PACK IN FULL CRY 217 
 
 "I won't try to please you at all if you address 
 me in that manner," he interrupted, frowning. 
 
 "Tom, then; because I do want you to do one 
 thing to please me." 
 
 "What is it? Quick. We have only a moment, 
 now." 
 
 "Stay as close to Kitty as you possibly can," she- 
 announced in a half whisper. 
 
 "Play interference against his nibs, your brother, 
 eh? Is that it, Betty?" 
 
 She nodded. "Don't leave them alone together 
 if you can help it," she said earnestly. "I will 
 promise not to be very far away any of the time. I 
 can ride." 
 
 "You don't need to tell me that," he replied, with 
 enthusiasm. 
 
 In the meantime and while they were talking 
 Keese had remarked to Katherine with his face 
 turned from her so that he was apparently studying 
 the general topography that surrounded them: 
 
 "You are thoroughly familiar with the ground 
 we will ride over, I suppose?" 
 
 "I know it fairly well," she replied. 
 
 "So do I." He turned his head and smiled at 
 her. "I have been studying it that is, maps of it. 
 For instance, yonder is the Rudolph place, isn't it? 
 And beyond that, to the right, the great estate of 
 Algernon Sessions? And over there, beyond that 
 hill, there is a deep ravine, isn't there? with a bad 
 climb after one crosses it if the chase should lead 
 us there ?"
 
 218 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 "You are well informed," Katherine said, in sur- 
 prise. 
 
 "Oh, yes; from maps and some personal in- 
 formation. I spent nearly all of last Tuesday in 
 riding over this country with a guide and asking 
 questions. Over beyond that ravine, several miles 
 from here, I found a very interesting place, too. 
 I wonder if you happen to know about it, 
 Kitty?" 
 
 "Do you mean the Ghost house ?" she asked with 
 some indication of interest, raising her eyes to his 
 for the first time and encountering them with level 
 gaze. 
 
 "Yes. It is a queer story that I was told about 
 it but quite in keeping, I should suppose, with the 
 careers of people who were burdened by such a 
 name. Fancy being addressed as 'Mr. Ghost!' or 
 as 'Mrs. Ghost.' Or the emergency of having to 
 entertain the 'Ghosts.' No wonder that the people 
 down here froze them out. Eh?" 
 
 "And no wonder," she replied, "that being frozen 
 out, that having been literally driven out, 
 they should refuse to sell the little place at any 
 price, preferring to have it go to rack and ruin and 
 to become overgrown with a tangle of young trees 
 and bushes that have become impenetrable, so I am 
 told." 
 
 Katherine spoke eagerly, not because she felt any 
 interest in the Ghost house or in the people who 
 owned it and refused to live in it or to sell it and 
 who seemed to delight in permitting it to become an 
 eyesore to the surrounding neighborhood, but be-
 
 WITH THE PACK IN FULL CRY 219 
 
 cause the subject was an eminently safe one be- 
 tween Benton Keese and herself. 
 
 It had been given out that the fox was a wise 
 and crafty old Reynard that would give the hunters 
 "what was coming to them," if appearances could 
 be counted upon. He proved it in a very short time 
 after his release; and almost as soon as the start 
 was made shouts and calls of congratulations 
 sounded from one end of the field to the other. 
 The riders soon spread out, some with what they 
 believed to be sagacious forethought, to make short- 
 cuts to intercept the chase at another point, others 
 to loiter far behind because they preferred to do 
 so, and still others to cling tenaciously to the pack 
 with all of the enthusiasm of the seasoned fox- 
 hunter. Riding to hounds amounts almost to a 
 profession with some people, to a mere pastime for 
 others, to a relaxation with another class and to 
 an enthusiastic sport that gives intensest joy to a 
 very small proportion of those who attend the 
 meets. 
 
 Betty Keese belonged to the last of these classi- 
 fications; so did Tom Clancy. Katherine, too, felt 
 the thrill of it scarcely less than did her two friends, 
 for it had been her favorite sport at home, in 
 Kentucky. 
 
 For a time the four rode in comparative silence, 
 although there were occasional calls and replies be- 
 tween Tom and Betty, for one was quite as ex- 
 uberant of spirit as the other and neither was ever 
 a very long time silent. They kept in the van, 
 too, with very few riders ahead of them and with
 
 220 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 many others stringing along behind as the dogs led 
 the chase toward a lower section of the deep ravine 
 where there was an old wood road, as Katherine 
 remembered, which led directly to the bottom of it. 
 But Reynard apparently had preferred the more 
 difficult trail along the brow of the hill to the pos- 
 sibility of becoming bottled in the gully, for the 
 dogs had gone that way and the few hunters who 
 still led the chase followed. 
 
 Tom and Betty rode side by side, fifty or sixty 
 yards ahead of Katherine and Keese, and had also 
 made the turn and were riding up the hillside along 
 the brow of the cliff when there came back to 
 the practiced ears of Benton Keese a confusion of 
 shouts and directions mingled with a new and more 
 eager tuning of the hounds which he readily un- 
 derstood. He and Katherine were directly at the 
 turn, at the moment, and were side by side. 
 Toward their right the way led up the hill in the 
 direction their leaders had taken; toward the left, 
 a few rods distant, was the opening crest of the 
 wood road which led to the floor of the ravine. 
 
 "Wait, Kittie !" Keese called out and in the ex- 
 citement of the chase, in the thrill of the tuning 
 of the hounds and the loud and encouraging cries 
 of the hunters, she forgot her determination not to 
 be left for a moment alone with him, and she 
 obeyed; and so they came to a stop with the shoul- 
 ders of their horses almost touching, and waited, 
 and listened. 
 
 Then one of the dogs gave tongue again, seem- 
 ingly from the bottom of the ravine, but much
 
 WITH THE PACK IN FULL CRY 221 
 
 farther up its tortuous course; and Benton Keese 
 shouted aloud with an enthusiasm that was ap- 
 parently due only to the excitement of the hunt. 
 
 "Come! This way! We will gain the lead of 
 them all!" he added, at the same time forcing his 
 hunter forward in such a way that Katherine's 
 horse was compelled to turn and in another mo- 
 ment the two riders were galloping down the wood- 
 road toward the bottom of the ravine, neck and 
 neck and closely side by side. Chance or was it 
 partly design? had supplied Benton Keese with 
 the opportunity he craved.
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 GHOST HOUSE 
 
 They rode into the ravine at the shallowing point 
 where it began to widen into the comparatively 
 level reaches beyond. As they made the turn at 
 the bottom of the wood-road the dogs, which had 
 been silent for an interval, gave tongue once more, 
 and their voices appeared to follow straight up the 
 bed of the gully. 
 
 Katherine thought as little of altering her course 
 then as did her companion, although their reasons 
 for clinging to it were widely different ; only Kath- 
 erine could not know that fact. All of her en- 
 thusiasm was bent upon the chase itself; Keese 
 cared for the hunt, and listened for the tuning 
 of the hounds only because both were playing di- 
 rectly into his hands. 
 
 And Keese wisely kept himself in the background 
 just then, preferring to efface himself by giving her 
 the lead, knowing that she would think less of his 
 nearness while he was behind her and so out of 
 sight. He did not doubt that she had temporarily 
 forgotten her fears of him. He knew, too, that 
 somewhat less than a mile farther along there was 
 a rough untraveled path, which led to the top of 
 the hill at the opposite side of the ravine; he knew, 
 because he had ridden over it that preceding Tues- 
 
 222
 
 GHOST HOUSE 223 
 
 day when he had gone there to make a study of 
 the neighborhood and to perfect the final arrange- 
 ments of his plans. 
 
 He did not care now whether the fox would 
 finally lead them all the way across the ravine or 
 not, for in either event he had succeeded in draw- 
 ing Katherine away from the others. But that it 
 would do so he did not doubt. Almost any wise 
 old Reynard would do that very thing, experience 
 told him and besides his guide of Tuesday had 
 assured him that if the fox ever hit that ravine near 
 the bottom "he would make up it, and head for the 
 opposite side somewhere near the three beeches." 
 So the sequel proved, and very soon. 
 
 Keese called out to Katherine to stop a moment 
 when the voices of the dogs told their story. With 
 the horses at a standstill they could hear the 
 hounds as they swarmed down the steep hillside 
 on one hand and up it again on the other; they 
 could hear the shouts of the riders, the crashing 
 sounds of young trees and bushes that were dis- 
 turbed by the passing steeds, and the ringing in- 
 structions of the M. F. H. to those who followed 
 after him. But they could see nothing of it. A 
 bend in the ravine shut out the view, and they 
 waited in silence until the voices of the dogs should 
 give them more definite information. 
 
 And in the meantime Keese worked his horse 
 around to the off-side of Katherine's mount so 
 that when the moment did arrive for which he was 
 prepared he would need only to force his own
 
 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 hunter ahead in order to turn hers in the direction 
 he wanted it to go perforce. 
 
 "This way!" he shouted when the pack was in 
 full cry again. "Straight ahead, Kitty. There is 
 a path beside that big rock. It leads to the top on 
 the other side and that is where we have got to 
 
 go" 
 
 Forcing his own horse sharply forward, he shoul- 
 dered her mount into the rugged path while he 
 talked, and before she could have prevented it had 
 she chosen to do so; but she did not, nor had a 
 thought of it It was steep, insecure of footing, 
 clogged by roots and stones, and otherwise offered 
 a precarious method of arriving at the top of the 
 ravine on that side; but there was no such thing 
 as turning back once they had begun the ascent. 
 They made it finally, but their horses were winded 
 and spent, and stood silently and with drooping 
 heads once they were at the top. 
 
 It was then that Katherine bent her head to lis- 
 ten; and soon again she raised it and looked at 
 Keese with a startled expression in her eyes. 
 
 "I can hear nothing," she said. "I do not hear 
 a sound. Do you ?" 
 
 He pretended to listen and shook his head 
 negatively. 
 
 "Come, please," Katherine exclaimed. "We 
 must be going." 
 
 "Wait," Keese replied, resting one hand lightly 
 upon her bridle-rein. "The horses are winded by 
 that climb. We must rest them a bit, Kitty."
 
 GHOST HOUSE 225 
 
 He swung from the saddle as he ceased speak- 
 ing, and added : 
 
 "Get down for a moment, won't you? It will 
 rest you to walk a little and the horse as well." 
 
 But she shook her head with decision. 
 
 "No," she said, and remembered suddenly and 
 not without a twinge of fear that the very thing 
 that she had sought to avoid that day had hap- 
 pened. She was indeed alone, and very much 
 alone, with Benton Keese. 
 
 "I will stay where I am, thank you. And if the 
 horses are not too tired I prefer to go on. We 
 will lose all directions of the chase if we do not." 
 
 He nodded and started forward, leading his own 
 horse, and retaining his hold upon the bridle-rein of 
 hers. Once she tried to shake it free from his 
 grasp, but apparently he did not notice the act. At 
 least he paid no heed to it. She did not repeat the 
 attempt, thinking it wisdom not to do so. There 
 was no sign of a path where they were, and Kath- 
 erine had no idea of the direction he was leading 
 her save that it was straight away from the bank 
 of the ravine; and it was her belief that they ought 
 to cling to it, or at least keep it in view. 
 
 Presently, after she had thought the matter out, 
 she ventured the suggestion for Katherine had no 
 suspicion of the fact that she was even at that mo- 
 ment a victim of the man's subtle craftiness. But 
 he shook his head. 
 
 "Just above here the ravine forks or branches. 
 There is another and deeper one which leads into 
 this one at right angles a little way above us. I
 
 226 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 saw it last Tuesday. We will have to go around 
 it. Fortunately, it is only a short distance," he 
 told her. 
 
 Katherine made no reply nor offered further re- 
 monstrance. And he was silent, too. If Keese 
 had dared to look around at her then, she would 
 have understood everything. But he did not do 
 so, for he knew that he could not disguise the glow 
 of triumph that was in his eyes, and which would 
 leap in a consuming flame if he should look upon 
 her. 
 
 They moved forward slowly, and, imperceptibly 
 to Katherine, Keese constantly bore a trifle to the 
 left of a straight course; for he had a definite route 
 which he meant to follow. It was one which the 
 hunted fox had, fortunately for his plans, materially 
 shortened by taking the dogs into the deep ravine 
 and out of it again, as it had done. For a short 
 while Keese walked forward between the horses' 
 heads, leading them; but the woods became thicker 
 as they had advanced, and they were obliged to zig- 
 zag and tangent and half -circle in many places in 
 order to get through at all. 
 
 At last Katherine, who was becoming more and 
 more conscious of their utter loneliness not a 
 sound of the dogs or the hunters had reached her 
 ears since they climbed to the top of the bluff over 
 the ravine ventured to offer an objection. She 
 pulled her horse in sharply. 
 
 "It seems to me we are getting deeper and deeper 
 into the woods, Benton," she demurred. "I do not
 
 GHOST HOUSE 
 
 hear a sound of the chase. The fox must have 
 turned into the ravine again." 
 
 "I don't think so," he said, halting, but studiously 
 keeping his eyes averted from hers. 
 
 "It must be so," she insisted. 
 
 "Well, even then we must keep on as we are go- 
 ing," he answered. "You know yourself that we 
 could not enter the ravine again by that path. 
 Neither your horse nor mine could do it." 
 
 She sighed audibly, for she did realize the truth 
 of his statement. He continued before she could 
 speak : 
 
 "I was not exactly at this spot last Tuesday when 
 I looked over the country, but I do know the local- 
 ity. I know that just a little way beyond us there 
 is a narrow road that traverses the woods and 
 comes out upon the highway eventually. The way 
 I am taking you now will lead us to it." 
 
 "Oh, I am so sorry that we have lost ourselves !" 
 she exclaimed with a touch of tragedy in her tone. 
 
 "Nonsense!" he retorted. "We have not lost 
 ourselves. We will be out of it in a jiffy. If the 
 fox did double back into the ravine he'll come out 
 again on this side. We will have the advantage 
 over all the others in that case. If you don't mind 
 following behind me I will try to make that road- 
 way even more directly." 
 
 Katherine nodded; but her companion's eyes 
 were still averted, so she replied in a low tone : 
 
 "Very well, Benton ; only please get out of these 
 woods as quickly as possible." 
 
 Then, mentally, she misjudged the man utterly
 
 328 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 and smiled to herself with reassurance because 
 she did so. She misjudged him by thinking that 
 he was really doing very nicely by not looking at 
 her as he might have done, to her discomfort and 
 by his demeanor of aloofness notwithstanding the 
 fact that they were so utterly alone in the depths of 
 the wood. Her heart would have beat much more 
 rapidly than it did had she realized that his aloof- 
 ness was all a studied pose on his part, done in 
 order that he might not startle his prize for 
 already he regarded her so too soon. More dis- 
 tance and more time was consumed. It seemed 
 often as if Katherine would be compelled to dis- 
 mount or be swept from the saddle by the limbs of 
 trees under which they passed or by the outreach- 
 ing younger growth of the woods which appeared 
 to draw closer and closer around her. 
 
 And then suddenly when she least expected it 
 when she was on the point of calling out to her 
 companion with more objections they came out 
 upon the narrow roadway that he had assured her 
 was near at hand. It was narrow. It was closed 
 in by a thick growth of trees and bushes on either 
 side. Above their heads the branches interlaced 
 into a canopy that shut out the sunlight entirely. 
 Beneath them on the ground were twigs and chips 
 and growing weeds and grasses, but no sign of 
 wheeltracks. In advance of them, no matter which 
 way they might turn, the roadway disappeared into 
 swinging curves and gave the suggestion that they 
 were entirely shut in. 
 
 An exclamation of dismay that Katherine would
 
 GHOST HOUSE 229 
 
 have uttered was arrested before it found voice, 
 for Benton Keese, still playing his part and de- 
 termined to do so as long as it would avail him 
 turned and sprang into his saddle. 
 
 "I know now exactly where we are, Kitty," he 
 assured her. And he did know, only too well. 
 "Come on. We will be out of this in a very few 
 moments. That way"; he pointed ahead of them 
 toward the direction he wished to follow. "You 
 take the lead, and ride as hard as you like. Look 
 out for the limbs and branches." 
 
 She started forward gladly, reassured. The 
 horses were rested, and responded quickly to the 
 wishes of their riders. Overhanging branches 
 made it impossible for them to travel side by side, 
 but Keese followed closely, and even urged Kath- 
 erine to greater speed as they advanced for he 
 knew exactly where they were and precisely what 
 the next few moments would develop. 
 
 Katherine had often heard about the Ghost 
 house; she had even seen pictures of it; but she had 
 never visited it, and so she could not guess that 
 they were rapidly riding toward it by the only road 
 that could take them there, and that the route to 
 the main highway was directly behind them; that 
 they were riding away from it instead of toward 
 it. Then, without warning, they came out upon a 
 comparatively open space. A high wall of moss- 
 grpwn and discolored bricks confronted them, 
 pierced by a gateway that stood invitingly open 
 and the speed at which they had been traveling car- 
 ried her past it before she could pull in.
 
 230 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 Katherine realized the presence of two men, one 
 at either side, as they rode swiftly between the stone 
 gate-posts. She saw directly in front of her a 
 square stone house with wings at either side that 
 was almost completely hidden by a riot of climbing 
 vines and a rank growth of young trees in the fore- 
 ground. She heard the clang of iron against iron 
 as the gate was banged shut behind her. She 
 recognized from its pictures the Ghost house before 
 her. She saw Benton Keese leap from the saddle 
 to the ground and throw his bridle into the grasp 
 of a man who sprang toward him. She knew then 
 that she had ridden into a trap. 
 
 Benton Keese moved quickly to her side and 
 seized the bit of her horse's bridle; and for the 
 first time in more than an hour he looked into her 
 eyes. He was smiling, too a smile that was trium- 
 phant and cruel and evil. 
 
 "Welcome to Ghost house, Kitten," he said.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 THE TRIUMPH OF BENTON KEESE 
 
 There is a time when terror amounts to a pas- 
 sion. Intense anger is one. Lady Kate experi- 
 enced both in that instant of revelation. As a cur- 
 tain is swept aside to expose a wide range of view 
 she saw mentally and understood instinctively every 
 item of the circumstance into which she had per- 
 mitted herself to blunder. Rage possessed her; ter- 
 ror held her chained. Yet, furious-eyed and in ter- 
 ror, too, she lifted her riding-crop on high and 
 would have struck Benton Keese with it if he had 
 not reached out and torn it from her grasp and 
 flung it aside among the weeds and grass. 
 
 Then he came closer to her and held out his 
 hand. 
 
 "Dismount!" he commanded her. 
 
 Katherine did not offer to move. 
 
 Keese waited a moment, smilingly. Then: 
 
 "I hope you won't force me to lift you from 
 the saddle, Kitten," he said, with quiet meaning. 
 (Oh, how she hated his use of her childhood's 
 name!) 
 
 She glanced around her on this side and on that, 
 dazed. Terror gripped her, but she strove against 
 it with all the fortitude she could summon. No- 
 where could she discover a means of escape from 
 
 231
 
 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 the terrible situation. Nowhere was there a sign 
 of life about her, save for one man of foreign as- 
 pect who remained near them as if waiting to take 
 away her horse as the other man had done with 
 Benton's; and his back was turned. If he had 
 ears and could hear and eyes and could see, or 
 muscles and could move, he gave no outward evi- 
 dences of those gifts. 
 
 The wall of brick topped with broken bottles 
 and ragged glass that surrounded the house and its 
 outbuildings enclosed two or three acres of ground 
 that was overgrown with tangled weeds which were 
 in turn choked by bushes and sprouting trees. 
 
 Katherine already knew enough about the house 
 and its strange story to realize how utterly isolated 
 it was; how fruitless it would be for her to call 
 for aid ; how rarely it was visited, even by the curi- 
 ous. For the winding roadway that led to it 
 through the woods had long been impassable for 
 automobiles and carriages. Riding parties visited 
 it at long intervals when the guest of a neighbor- 
 hood insisted upon seeing the place ; but those occa- 
 sions were rare indeed. 
 
 Katherine's talk with Tom Clancy when they 
 rode home together in her car recurred to her 
 oddly then. She knew that if she had possessed a 
 weapon she would have shot Benton Keese dead at 
 that moment. But she was helpless weaponless. 
 Even her stout crop had been snatched away from 
 her. And all the while it was less than a minute 
 of time although it seemed an aeon to her the 
 man who had so foully tricked her stood beside her
 
 TRIUMPH OF BENTON KEESE 233 
 
 horse with his firm grasp upon the bit, waiting, smil- 
 ing, confident, and as relentless in his designs against 
 her as he would be merciless in fulfilling them. 
 
 "Get down, my dear," he said softly; and she 
 reached out and struck at him with her open hand ; 
 a blow which he easily avoided and concerning 
 which he made no comment. 
 
 Katherine called aloud then to the man who 
 waited with his back turned toward them and who 
 seemed not to hear her when she did call; and 
 Keese announced, imperturbably : 
 
 "He is my creature, Kitten, and he does not un- 
 derstand a word of English. I was careful about 
 that. The two men you have seen were Mexican 
 mountaineers bandits, in other words before 
 they crossed the Rio Grande into this country to 
 save their worthless and forfeited lives. 
 
 "One of them has a wife, and she is here, too. 
 None of them speak English. Don't you think I 
 have planned well?" 
 
 He stepped nearer to her as he ceased speaking 
 and held out his hands; but she shrank from him, 
 cowering in the saddle and clinging to it desper- 
 ately. Then she thought to plead with him. 
 
 "Please let me go away, Benton," she asked him 
 piteously. "In memory of your sweet and good 
 mother whom I loved, let me go. For Betty's sake, 
 in the name of your own dear sister, order that 
 gate to be opened and let me ride away, unharmed. 
 I promise I promise you on my honor as a Ken- 
 tucky girl that I will never reveal what has hap- 
 pened to-day if you will only do that. For my own
 
 234 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 sake, Benton. Please let me go away. Won't you, 
 Benton?" 
 
 He made no answer by word or sign. His eyes 
 only gloated upon her, lurid with the sure triumph 
 and the sense of possession that glistened within 
 their depths. 
 
 She went on again, although she knew that her 
 plea was hopeless ; yet she added one other to it. 
 
 "We were children together, Benton; playmates. 
 You professed to love me, even then. We grew 
 older, and Oh, for God's sake, Benton, open the 
 gate and let me go away!" 
 
 "No, Kitten." He spoke with exceeding quiet, 
 but with a finality that was adamant. "You are 
 here to stay for the present. Soon we will go 
 away together to the other side of the world, if 
 you will; but together always henceforth. It is 
 written. There can be no other way." 
 
 She was white by now white to the lips; and 
 rigid where she sat in the saddle. A chill gripped at 
 her heart. He spoke again, smoothly, evenly, re- 
 morselessly, relentlessly. 
 
 "You are mine, Kitten. You always were mine ; 
 but you succeeded in evading me. But I have over- 
 taken you at last You shall not, you cannot evade 
 me now." 
 
 She shuddered. 
 
 "When you fled from me, I sought you every- 
 where, high and low; far and near. But my funds 
 gave out. I had no money, and I needed it badly. 
 I knew that I must get some, somewhere; it did 
 not matter how. Mexico has long attracted me. I
 
 TRIUMPH OF BENTON KEESE 235 
 
 went there. I believed that I could hold you, as I 
 had always done, in fear and trembling, even at a 
 distance; and I knew that you did not love any 
 other man. I went there, to Mexico. Fate directed 
 my steps to Anderson Van Cleve. In him and 
 his possessions I saw and recognized my oppor- 
 tunity. I meant to have all of his property, instead 
 of only a small part of it. But there is sufficient. I 
 have got enough. Oh, yes; I was the Holbrook 
 Chilton of the photograph. 
 
 "Then I returned. Always I had had the Lex- 
 ington papers sent to me, but the one that contained 
 the announcement of your marriage, the account of 
 your visit to Europe and of your return was lost. 
 The information did not get to me until very shortly 
 before I came away from Mexico. But I had 
 studied the man I intended to rob. I knew of the 
 moneys he had forwarded to New York and the 
 name of the bank where they were deposited; and 
 I discovered that the president of the bank was the 
 man you had married; that the former president 
 of it, Van Cleve's friend, was traveling in Egypt. 
 
 "I swore then that I would take you away from 
 Bingham Harvard. Well, I have done it. I have 
 taken you from him. You shall never return to 
 him. These arms" he spread them widely "shall 
 be, henceforth, your resting place. You are mine, 
 and nothing in heaven, or on earth, or in hell, can 
 change that fact. Presently, after a time, when 
 there is a divorce if you will have it so and if you 
 can bring Harvard to terms, we will be married. 
 You will be my "
 
 236 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 Slowly she turned her face toward him and at the 
 sight of it he stopped. Marble could not have been 
 whiter or more set and rigid. Horror unspeakable 
 was in her eyes. She swayed in the saddle, and 
 he reached out and seized her and pulled her from 
 it before she could find strength to resist him. 
 She tottered in his grasp, and he passed an arm 
 around her. Then he spoke a sharp command 
 to the waiting Mexican, and led Katherine, unre- 
 sisting, toward the house. 
 
 The sense of triumph within Benton Keese at 
 that moment was great indeed. He believed that 
 Katherine understood the utter futility of resist- 
 ance, and had surrendered. Indeed it seemed so. 
 She walked beside him, totteringly, dumbly, half 
 leaning upon him and unmindful of his physical 
 support or of his encircling arm. He did not ad- 
 dress her again; she did not attempt to speak to 
 him. So they passed partly around the house and 
 entered it across a porch where there was an open 
 door and came upon a room that had been made 
 comfortably habitable, and where a dark-visaged 
 woman with handsome, flashing, questioning eyes, 
 waited. 
 
 Keese led Katherine to a low chair, placed her 
 softly in the depths of it, and then did a dastardly 
 act, which, however, Katherine did not seem to no- 
 tice. He bent over and touched his lips, that were 
 burning hot, to hers, that were like icicles. Then, 
 with an order, spoken in Spanish and an imperative 
 gesture toward the Mexican woman who waited, 
 he passed outside again, and closed the door.
 
 CHAPTER XXX 
 
 APPROACHING A CRISIS 
 
 The daring and assurance of Benton Keese were 
 superb. Outside of the house, just around one 
 corner of it, he paused to wait ; and soon the Mex- 
 ican woman came out to him, bringing in her hands 
 Katherine's hat and gauntlets. These he seized 
 upon, and with a few hurried but emphatic direc- 
 tions to the woman turned away, whistling a signal 
 of some sort as he went. 
 
 At the spot where he had taken Katherine from 
 the saddle he searched for a moment and recovered 
 her riding crop from where he had cast it among 
 the woods. One of the Mexicans reappeared, lead- 
 ing both of the horses and Keese sprang into the 
 saddle of his own mount. He paused only long 
 enough to utter some further admonitory direc- 
 tions, then the gate was opened for him and he rode 
 away. He crossed the ravine by the same rugged 
 pathway he had followed with Katherine, in spite 
 of the fact that he had assured her that they could 
 not return that way. But he forced the horses to it, 
 caring little whether they might fall and break a 
 leg or a neck, but arriving at the bottom without 
 accident. 
 
 At the top of the wood-road on the opposite side 
 where with Lady Kate beside him he had paused 
 237
 
 238 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 to listen to the hounds and where he had induced 
 her to follow him into the ravine, he got down from 
 his own horse, made the bridle rein fast to a con- 
 venient limb and then went onward up the brow 
 of the hill over the gully, leading the horse that 
 Katherine had ridden. It was not difficult for him 
 to find the place where the fox had turned into 
 the ravine, where the dogs had followed along a 
 ledge of shelving slate and where the hunters had 
 not dared to go because of the treacherous charac- 
 ter of the descent. But he went on a little farther 
 and found the place where the riders had taken to 
 the steep hillside, plainly disclosed by the loosened 
 earth and stones and broken twigs. 
 
 He nodded with satisfaction and returned to the 
 rocky ledge across which the hunted fox and the 
 pursuing hounds had passed, halting with Kather- 
 ine's horse just above it. For a moment he stood 
 there looking downward across the ledge, while 
 a slow smile that was not pleasant to see gathered 
 upon his mobile lips. Then he took two steps 
 backward and raised his heavy crop. He struck 
 with it, using all the strength of his arm, and the 
 blow fell smartingly and stinging and without 
 warning upon the horse's flank and the animal, 
 headed directly for the gulf in front of him and so 
 near to it that his fore feet were close to the edge 
 of the bank, plunged ahead in terror when the cruel 
 blow fell upon him. 
 
 The horse slipped upon the ledge and fell. It 
 crashed against a group of saplings, crushing them 
 to earth. Nevertheless, they impeded the force of
 
 APPROACHING A CRISIS 239 
 
 the fall and doubtless spared the outraged creature 
 the broken bones that he might otherwise have suf- 
 fered. After that the animal rolled over and over 
 down the steep hill, struggling; and Keese stood 
 looking on with that set smile upon his handsome 
 features, apparently without emotion or pity. 
 Stones were dislodged, bushes and underbrush 
 were crushed and bruised and torn from their roots, 
 young saplings were laid flat and then the horse 
 brought up against the trunk of a tree that was 
 fifty feet below where Keese was standing, and 
 after a dazed moment of uncertainty it struggled 
 feebly to its feet and stood there trembling. 
 
 Keese flung Katherine's hat toward the animal, 
 which frightened it anew, and it started down the 
 hillside, limping. Apparently no bones were 
 broken; seemingly it had suffered nothing more 
 serious than bruises and temporary lameness. 
 Keese waited yet another moment until the horse 
 had disappeared beyond a dense growth of ever- 
 greens, then he flung the crop that Katherine had 
 carried after it and followed that with her gauntlets, 
 one by one but he took the precaution to tear one 
 of them almost in half and to grind them both 
 against the ground beneath his heel before he parted 
 with them. 
 
 An hour later he rode in at the club house, and 
 the grooms and members of the club who hastened 
 toward him did so because they had been able to 
 see even from a distance as he drew near that he 
 had met with an accident. He reeled in his saddle 
 but permitted himself to be assisted from it to the
 
 240 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 ground, where he stood upon both feet and smiled 
 a reassurance toward the anxious faces that sur- 
 rounded him. One side of his face was smeared 
 with grass-stain and dirt from the ground ; his rid- 
 ing coat was torn and badly soiled, his collar was 
 torn from its fastenings and his tie was gone en- 
 tirely. One of his gloves was ripped up the back 
 its entire length and the other one was missing ; his 
 cap, crushed and stained, was on his head. Alto- 
 gether he presented a sorry spectacle. 
 
 And his mount was in a plight almost as bad, 
 so far as dirt and soil and stains were concerned. 
 One stirrup was missing and the strap, or what re- 
 mained of it, showed plainly where it had been 
 torn apart violently. The bridle was also broken 
 in two places, although not so badly that it had 
 not served for his return to the clubhouse. The 
 saddle-girth had also been broken and tied together 
 again in a knot 
 
 "My girth broke just when I got to the edge of 
 that ravine," he explained. "I have forgotten wh~"- 
 you call it. Mrs. Harvard was just ahead of mt, 
 but I called out to her what the trouble was and told 
 her to go on; that I would overtake her. Mr. 
 Clancy and my sister were somewhere ahead of 
 Mrs. Harvard, but not in sight. 
 
 "Well, I tied the girth as best I could and re- 
 mounted. Then in my eagerness to catch up with 
 the others and in my ignorance of the country over 
 which I had to ride and also because the cry of 
 the pack told me that the fox had taken to the ravine 
 I dived into it, in the belief that I could head off
 
 APPROACHING A CRISIS 
 
 my companions. The fox crossed the ravine and 
 ascended the opposite side or I believed that it 
 did so. I found a path, or a place that had once 
 been one, and attempted it, and I made the top all 
 right. But up there I discovered that I was all 
 wrong and I made the mistake of attempting to 
 return by the way I had gone. 
 
 "My horse fell with me. I reckon that the jolt 
 of it knocked me silly I feel a little that way, yet 
 and when I woke up I found the horse waiting 
 for me at the bottom of the gully. Then I man- 
 aged to get here. And that is all." 
 
 It was a perfectly logical tale. Nobody thought 
 to doubt it. Keese was assisted into the clubhouse ; 
 he was afforded every facility for making himself 
 presentable again; refreshments were given to him 
 and he was the center of a group of men and 
 women when the riders began to come straggling 
 home. Then, among the very last to make their 
 appearance Tom and Betty arrived. They were not 
 slow to hear of the accident to Benton Keese. It 
 had been one among several that day, all of a minor 
 character, none serious, fortunately ; but Betty hur- 
 ried to her brother just the same, and Tom fol- 
 lowed as a matter of course. 
 
 A glance told Betty that Benton was not badly 
 hurt, and at once, instead of referring to possible 
 injuries that he might have received, she demanded : 
 
 "Where is Kitty?" 
 
 "Katherine?" he replied, lifting his brows in well 
 simulated astonishment. "Didn't she return with 
 you and the others?"
 
 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 "No. She did not," Betty asserted abruptly. "I 
 haven't seen her since the start. She was behind 
 us, with you. Where is she?" 
 
 Clancy drew nearer, listening, and watching 
 closely. He saw Keese shrug his shoulders and 
 make a gesture of deprecation. He heard the Ken- 
 tuckian reply coolly : 
 
 "She must be outside somewhere, Betty. I 
 haven't seen her since my girth broke. I called to 
 her then to go on, that I would soon follow; and 
 she did so. You and Clancy were just ahead of us, 
 so she must have followed close behind you. By 
 the time I had tied the girth the fox had taken to 
 the ravine at least I thought so. Anyhow, I 
 turned down that wood road that you must have 
 noticed when you passed it. I wish now that I had 
 not." 
 
 Tom Clancy's eyes had been narrowing danger- 
 ously with every syllable that Keese uttered. 
 
 "Where were you when you got down to tie 
 your saddle girth?" he asked, quietly. 
 
 "Oh! Hello, Clancy. I was right there at the 
 top of that wood road into the ravine. You no- 
 ticed it, didn't you?" 
 
 "Yes. Where was Katherine?" 
 
 "Five or six rods ahead of me, following after 
 you and Betty. You were out of my sight at the 
 moment; Mrs. Harvard passed out of it a moment 
 later. I had some difficulty in tying the girth." 
 
 "And you did not follow after her when you had 
 tied it?"
 
 243 
 
 "No. I have just explained that I followed the 
 wood road into the ravine." 
 
 "Do we understand that you have not seen Mrs. 
 Harvard from that moment to this one, Mr. 
 Keese?" 
 
 "Most certainly you do, Mr. Clancy. I crossed 
 the ravine and ascended a steep path at the oppo- 
 site side. When I tried to return by the same way 
 my horse fell with me. It knocked the wind out 
 of me, and my relish for the hunt as well. I re- 
 turned here as soon as I was able to do so." 
 
 Betty had stepped backward a little, and her 
 bright eyes were boring into her brother's conscious- 
 ness or she meant them to. For Betty did not 
 believe his story. Neither did Tom Clancy ; but he 
 did not consider that moment the proper time to 
 say so. He turned about abruptly. 
 
 "I will make some inquiries," he announced 
 shortly and departed. 
 
 Betty stepped forward, nearer to her brother, 
 and looked him straight in the eyes. The two were, 
 for the moment, comparatively alone, others who 
 had been near having withdrawn or been called 
 away. 
 
 "I don't believe you, Ben," she said fiercely, un- 
 der her breath ; but her eyes were blazing, her 
 cheeks were flushed, and all her Southern spirit was 
 aroused. 
 
 Keese merely shrugged his shoulders and smiled 
 up at her from the depths of his chair. 
 
 "You are lying!" she reasserted hotly, but still 
 in a low tone; but he did not even flush beneath
 
 244 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 the taunt. Instead, he shrugged again, and widened 
 his smile until it became one of defiant derision. 
 
 "I warned you," he said, almost in a whisper, and 
 still smiling. 
 
 "So ! You dare to admit " 
 
 "Only the truth of what I have already told you," 
 he interrupted. "Don't get tragic, Betty. You will 
 attract the attention of others if you do that. And 
 there is no need for it. Go outside and look for 
 Kitten, as Clancy has already done. You will find 
 her there, I haven't a doubt." 
 
 "You lie, Ben Keese! You know you do. You 
 have done something to Kitty that is keeping her 
 away from us. I know you have. I can read it in 
 your eyes." 
 
 He shrugged again and did not answer; and she 
 bent down until her beautiful, flushed face was 
 close to his. 
 
 "You did warn me," she said in a tense under- 
 tone. "And I warned you, too. And now I want 
 to tell you this much ; Bingham Harvard is due to 
 arrive here at any moment, and if there is no news 
 of Kitty before he gets here I shall go to him at 
 once and tell him everything that you have said to 
 me. Everything! Do you understand?" 
 
 "Perfectly, my dear sister," he replied; and 
 laughed in a low tone. "Go ahead !" 
 
 She turned away and passed through a doorway 
 to the veranda just at the moment when a big tour- 
 ing car drew up and stopped before it, and Bingham 
 Harvard, with Anderson Van Cleve, got down from 
 it. Betty went forward impetuously to meet them.
 
 CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 AN INTERCEPTED BLOW 
 
 As Betty started forward toward Bingham Har- 
 vard with the impulse upon her to tell him instantly 
 all that she knew and all that she suspected, her 
 brother came swiftly through one of the French 
 windows and intercepted her. Benton Keese pos- 
 sessed the faculty of moving swiftly without giving 
 the appearance of doing so, and if there were other 
 eyes turned in that direction just then, they could 
 have noticed nothing to attract their attention. 
 
 In reality, however, the act of Benton Keese was 
 anything but leisurely and meaningless. He had 
 gone to that window and stood just within it, watch- 
 ing when Betty had left him with that threat on 
 her lips, and of course he had seen also the arrival 
 of the automobile that brought Harvard and Van 
 Cleve. In intercepting his sister Keese stepped di- 
 rectly in front of her. His hand fell upon her arm 
 above the wrist, and his fingers closed upon it with 
 a pressure that made her wince with pain. 
 
 "Let go of me!" She spoke out sharply; but 
 unfortunately the attention of all who were near at 
 hand was riveted upon the new arrivals, and nobody 
 heard. Instead of complying, Keese turned Betty 
 half around, and before she understood what he 
 meant to do he had forced her through the 
 245
 
 246 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 open window into the room beyond it. One quick 
 glance around told him that they were entirely 
 alone. 
 
 Betty attempted to pull herself away from his 
 detaining grasp, but his fingers only gripped her 
 arm the tighter as he continued to force her on- 
 ward, across the room, out of it through a door- 
 way opposite, along the wide corridor which hap- 
 pened (as if the devil himself aided the man) to 
 be deserted, and into one of the several small par- 
 lors that fringed one side of the hall. There, he 
 closed the door behind them and swung his sister 
 none too gently into a convenient chair. 
 
 Betty raised her stormy eyes to his then, and 
 her lips parted to voice the rage that boiled within. 
 But no sound came from them. She shuddered and 
 shrank backward as if she would withdraw more 
 deeply into the chair. Ever since Betty could re- 
 member her brother had been addicted to certain 
 moods and tempers which filled her with terror. 
 Ordinarily, she stood in much less awe of him than 
 others did; but, beyond and behind all of his 
 moods there was one quality that could be 
 roused on occasion, which filled her with the same 
 unspeakable dread she might have experienced if, 
 unwarned, she had been suddenly thrust inside the 
 cage of a couchant tiger. That mood was upper- 
 most just then, and she recognized it ; and it fright- 
 ened her into silence. 
 
 He stood directly in front of her, looking down 
 into her eyes with a strange expression on his face, 
 which was not a smile, but which bared his white
 
 AN INTERCEPTED BLOW 247 
 
 teeth nevertheless, and transformed the handsome 
 qualities of his features into a menacing horror. 
 
 "You poor little fool," he said in a low tone and 
 without emphasis. "Do you think that you could 
 stop me now? Or that Harvard could stop me? 
 Or that all the angels and devils in heaven and hell 
 could change what has already happened?" 
 
 Betty shuddered and tried to shrink still farther 
 from him. He went on, in the same quiet tone of 
 awful menace: 
 
 "Are you Kitten's friend or are you Bing Har- 
 vard's friend? If you are his friend, even to her 
 utter undoing, go to him now and tell him all you 
 think you know and everything that you surmise." 
 
 Betty heard only indistinctly the words of his 
 later speech, for that other one that had preceded 
 it was still ringing in her consciousness; and, as 
 if he perceived that it did, he repeated the last part 
 of it that had horrified her so. 
 
 "Do you think that all the powers of heaven and 
 hell could change and undo the things that have 
 already happened?" 
 
 Repetition of the awful suggestiveness of his 
 question galvanized Betty into action. With a cry 
 as if he had pricked her with the point of a knife, 
 or had jabbed a needle into her flesh, Betty started 
 to her feet and stood quivering but resolute before 
 him. Her terror was turned to fury. She was sud- 
 denly become the proverbial female of the species 
 at bay, and cornered. She was transformed into 
 the primitive woman, beside herself with rage and 
 shame and horror, and hate of the man who faced
 
 248 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 her, even though he was her own blood brother. 
 For just an instant she stood so; then she flew at 
 him, her arms extended, her fingers tense, as if she 
 would clutch him by the throat and tear out the 
 tongue that had dared to utter an inference so vile. 
 
 Keese easily repulsed her. He seized Betty's 
 wrists and twisted them until she cried out with 
 the pain; and then he flung her roughly into the 
 upholstered chair again, and took a step or two 
 forward so that he stood over her. 
 
 "None of that, you little bobcat," he said coldly. 
 Then he bent nearer to her and said fiercely: 
 
 "If you want to go to Kitten, you may. You 
 shall go where she is as soon as we can get away 
 from this place. And she needs you, I think; or 
 will need you. But if you utter one word of what 
 you think you know, or with what you are pleased 
 to surmise I " 
 
 He purposely left the sentence incomplete. The 
 implied threat of it was even more terrible so. But 
 Betty grasped at the opportunity to go to Katherine, 
 as he had evidently known she would do. Once 
 more she half started from the chair, but he thrust 
 her back into it again. 
 
 "Do you remember the little old red school- 
 house a mile or so back on the road, that we passed 
 on the way out here to-day ? The one that you and 
 Kitten exclaimed about, and admired ? I know you 
 do remember it. There is a road that is not much 
 used a little way beyond it that leads into the woods. 
 Very well. Get away from these people here as 
 soon as you can. Go there. You can find the way
 
 AN INTERCEPTED BLOW 249 
 
 on foot. Follow that unused road until you get 
 into the edge of the woods. Then wait there for 
 me. I will take you to Kitten, if you do that. If 
 you do not it will be the worse for her; that's 
 all." 
 
 Footsteps resounded in the corridor outside the 
 door. A hand grasped the knob of it, and it was 
 flung open. At the same instant Keese seized one 
 of Betty's hands and began to chafe and slap it; 
 and as he did so he said to her in a savage under- 
 tone: 
 
 "Remember." 
 
 Then he turned his head as the door was opened, 
 released Betty's hand, and stood upright, smiling. 
 He believed he had succeeded in creating the im- 
 pression that Betty had needed his attention and 
 care. 
 
 Tom Clancy came swiftly into the room. He 
 halted midway of the distance between Keese and 
 the open door, and his eyes, burning fiercely, bored 
 into the Kentuckian's for an instant, then traveled 
 to Betty, and then returned their gaze to the face of 
 Benton Keese. It was the policy of Keese not to 
 notice Clancy's only too evident excitement, and he 
 spoke before Tom had an opportunity to do so. 
 
 "Betty has been trying to faint," he said with a 
 lift of his brows. "I think perhaps that your 
 services, Clancy, will be more efficacious than her 
 brother's." 
 
 He moved forward toward the open door, but 
 Clancy stepped directly in front of him and barred 
 the way out.
 
 250 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 "Wait!" he said. 
 
 Keese stopped, lifted his brows again in question- 
 ing surprise, shrugged his shoulders and waited. 
 
 "Where is Katherine. Where is she?" Clancy 
 demanded hotly. "You know. You lie like hell it- 
 self if you dare to say that you don't know, Keese. 
 Tell me where she is, or by " 
 
 "You are going a step too far, Mr. Thomas 
 Clancy," Keese interrupted. "That sort of talk 
 doesn't go with me." 
 
 "Doesn't go with you?" Tom took a stride 
 nearer to the man he had grown to hate so cor- 
 dially, and his Irish temper had got the best of him. 
 "Doesn't go with you?" he repeated, his hands 
 clenched and his muscles tense. "Anything every- 
 thing would 'go' with the kind of a cad that you are, 
 you thief! You forger! You " 
 
 Things happened swiftly in the following half 
 second. Keese, enraged, struck out with his fist 
 just as another figure shot through the open door- 
 way and darted forward with the quickness of a 
 shaft of light. Benton Keese's wrist was seized and 
 twisted sharply and he was sent staggering back- 
 ward half way across the room, and at the same 
 instant Clancy was thrust aside in the opposite direc- 
 tion. Bing Harvard stood between them, and the 
 tall, spare figure of Van Cleve loomed at the 
 threshold of the door behind him.
 
 CHAPTER XXXII 
 
 THE TOUCH OF THE NIGHT WIND 
 
 Instantly Benton Keese was his suave, complacent 
 self again, although his right wrist, where Bmg 
 Harvard had seized and twisted it, tingled with the 
 touch of the powerful hand that had grasped it. 
 It had been a passing touch of the Night Wind, 
 for Harvard had come upon the scene just in time 
 to overhear the last four words that Clancy had 
 used, and to realize the necessity for instant inter- 
 ference. 
 
 Now, with both of them silent and motionless, 
 he looked first toward Keese who shrugged and 
 half smiled, and threw out his hands, palm upward, 
 in a gesture of deprecation and then at Tom, who 
 was still tense and scowling, and who, in his heart, 
 longed to renew the combat that had been so force- 
 fully halted before it had begun. 
 
 Betty had started to her feet, and she stood 
 uncertainly in front of her chair, as if she wanted 
 to run away, yet did not dare to move. Her eyes 
 were, wide, her lips were parted ever so little, her 
 bosom rose and fell with the rapidity of her breath- 
 ing, and her eyes that for an instant lingered upon 
 Harvard, turned inevitably toward Tom. Her 
 glance seemed to draw his to her. Their eyes met. 
 The deep scowl left his face, and he tried to smile; 
 
 251
 
 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 but it was only a grimace that he succeeded in sum- 
 moning to his aid, for he was still somber and angry 
 and disturbed and he realized, too, that without 
 doubt he had gone a step too far in his tempestu- 
 ous assault of words upon Betty's brother. All of 
 this that has been described took place in the brief- 
 est instant. 
 
 But Clancy's eyes having traveled to Betty's, 
 Harvard's followed them; and he reached out the 
 same hand that had just twisted Benton's wrist so 
 savagely, touched her fingers, and led her toward 
 the door. 
 
 "Won't you find Katherine for me, and say that 
 I will be with her presently?" he said gently; and 
 Betty raised her eyes to his wonderingly. 
 
 Had nobody told him? That was her silent 
 thought. 
 
 "I I don't know where she is," Betty replied 
 falteringly. "She had not returned from the hunt 
 when " 
 
 "You will find her without difficulty, I think," 
 Bing interrupted. 
 
 Van Cleve stepped aside and Betty passed from 
 the room. Harvard gestured, and Van Cleve closed 
 the door after her in response to it. 
 
 "Please stand where you are, Mr. Van Cleve, 
 and permit nobody to enter, for the present," Har- 
 vard directed in a quiet tone. Then he turned and 
 faced the two men who remained in practically the 
 same positions that they had assumed when the 
 touch of the Night Wind had fallen upon them 
 and forced them apart.
 
 TOUCH OF THE NIGHT WIND 253 
 
 "Now, gentlemen," he said, "what was the mean- 
 ing of that scene I interrupted? You, Tom, are a 
 member of the club. Mr. Keese is my guest. Your 
 attitude and conduct toward him, under the circum- 
 stances, seem inexcusable." 
 
 Clancy was silent for just an instant. During it, 
 however, he realized to some extent the very little 
 that he had had to go upon in charging and at- 
 tacking Benton Keese as he had done. His belief 
 in the duplicity of the man was intensified rather 
 than lessened, and his conviction that the contin- 
 ued absence of Katherine was in some manner 
 due to Benton Keese was as strong as ever ; but he 
 was suddenly aware that he was possessed of noth- 
 ing tangible in support of either premises. But the 
 dark scowl swept into his face again. His eyes 
 brooded and narrowed. He was determined that 
 he would neither withdraw nor retract what he had 
 said what he knew that Bing Harvard had heard 
 him say. Fortunately there had been no reference 
 to Katherine in those last fiery words that Harvard 
 had Qverheard as he approached. 
 
 Clancy's silence before replying was so short as 
 to be barely noticeable. Then he said, with his 
 characteristic hot-headed impetuosity: 
 
 "I don't know what you heard, Bing, and I don't 
 care a damn, either. Whatever you did hear me 
 say to that man over there, I meant! Every word 
 of it ! And more !" 
 
 "Hush, Tom!" 
 
 "I won't hush not till I have finished." 
 
 "I insist "
 
 "I don't care a hang for your insistence, Bing. 
 Not a hang. You've got me cornered because you 
 and Van Cleve heard what you did hear, and now 
 you've all got to listen to the rest of it." 
 
 Harvard essayed to speak again, but it was Keese 
 who interrupted him then. 
 
 "Let him speak, Mr. Harvard," he said, with the 
 utmost mildness, 'while a sneering smile played 
 across his features and a wicked glint came into 
 his red-brown eyes. "Surely, if there is more to say 
 in connection with the utterances he has already 
 made, we ought all to hear what it is. Possibly 
 there is an explanation which may be distorted into 
 the semblance of an apology." 
 
 "Apology!" Tom exploded. Then he turned 
 toward Harvard again. "That man is the brother 
 of the girl I love with all the heart and soul there 
 is in me, Bing. I haven't asked Betty to marry 
 me yet, because I haven't dared under all the cir- 
 cumstances that I know exist. But I love her, and 
 I'm going to ask her, and she is going to say 'Yes' 
 when I do. So you can " 
 
 "Is this to be the story of a romance?" Keese 
 interrupted with easy insolence. 
 
 Tom shot one look of contemptuous hatred 
 toward him, then continued as if he had not heard : 
 
 "So you can understand what the accusation I 
 will make may mean to me. I charge that man" 
 he pointed his finger at Keese "with being Hoi- 
 brook Chilton, a forger and a thief. He is the man 
 who stole Van Cleve' s money, and mine, and yours. 
 He is "
 
 "Stop you!" 
 
 It was Keese who spoke the two words. His eyes 
 were aflame. His upper lip was drawn backward 
 tightly across his white and gleaming teeth. His 
 handsome face was distorted into the features of a 
 personified fury. His elbows were partly bent, and 
 his long and tapering fingers, tensed into a sem- 
 blance of claws, twitched. His face was livid. His 
 body was bent forward as if he had half performed 
 the act of leaping. All semblance of self-control 
 had gone from his attitude. He had been trans- 
 formed into a demon by the words that Tom Clancy 
 had spoken. 
 
 And all of this in an instant of time and while 
 he shouted out the two words like bullets at his 
 accuser. He acted, too, with them; acted instantly. 
 His right hand flew toward his hip pocket, and 
 back from it again, gripping the weapon it had 
 sought, and which Kentuckians are proverbially 
 supposed to carry which, doubtless, he had carried 
 with him constantly in anticipation of the necessity 
 for its sudden need. Keese was quick in the use 
 of it, too, and the sharp crack of it split the air and 
 crashed upon the momentary silence of the room the 
 instant it appeared. 
 
 But for all of that he was not as quick as Bing 
 Harvard. That wonderful swiftness which was the 
 Night Wind's chief est asset in the days when he 
 was forced to defend himself from his enemies 
 saved Tom Clancy's life and spared the brother of 
 the girl Tom loved from the crime of murder. The 
 bullet, intended for Clancy's heart, imbedded itself
 
 256 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 in the wall somewhere behind him. The weapon it- 
 self crashed against the ceiling of the room and fell 
 to the. floor. Benton Keese, with his right arm 
 twisted so that it was almost torn from his shoul- 
 der, was hurled backward with a force that might 
 have done him serious injury had not the chair that 
 Betty had occupied stood in the way. 
 
 Even as it was he dived headforemost into the 
 upholstery at the very instant that Clancy, beside 
 himself with rage that his life had been attempted, 
 leaped forward toward his assailant. But Harvard 
 hurled him backward also. Then he stooped and 
 recovered the weapon that he had torn from the 
 grasp of Keese, and dropped it into his pocket. 
 
 Van Cleve rushed forward and seized upon 
 Keese, and assisted him to right himself, for every- 
 body there could hear the noises of running feet 
 approaching the door of that room. Then it was 
 thrown open. Men and women crowded into the 
 room. Frightened questions were hurled at them. 
 But all that could be seen was the fact that Bingham 
 Harvard stood in the middle of the floor with an 
 automatic pistol in his hand which he was examin- 
 ing with smiling curiosity. But he raised his eyes 
 and smiled the more at the interruption, ancj said : 
 
 "It went off by accident. Nobody is .hurt." 
 
 Then he looked from face to face amorjg the 
 group around him, still smiling.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII 
 
 WHEN A MAN LIES 
 
 What might have happened had there been no 
 interruption just at that moment cannot be known. 
 The situation was tense, and in another instant the 
 eyes of the spectators must have turned from Har- 
 vard's face toward Clancy, and toward Keese 
 and it would have been easy enough to have read 
 what was depicted upon the features of both men. 
 
 But a club attendant rushed excitedly into the 
 room, and he was calling Harvard's name with all 
 the lung power he possessed ; and he discovered the 
 central figure of the group, seized him by the arm, 
 and tried to drag him away while he shouted. 
 
 "Mrs. Harvard has been hurt! Mrs. Harvard 
 has been hurt; Mrs. Har " 
 
 Bing grasped him and shook him savagely. 
 
 "Where is she ? Take me to her !" he demanded, 
 and started for the door, the others following ex- 
 citedly after. 
 
 Even Tom forgot his rage at Keese, and darted 
 forward until he could thrust others aside and get 
 close beside his friend. For the moment Clancy 
 thought that Katherine had been found, dead or ter- 
 ribly injured, and that he had been mistaken in 
 supposing that Keese had anything to do with her 
 continued absence. 
 
 Benton Keese himself sauntered after the others, 
 257
 
 258 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 and was the last one to go from the room for he 
 alone of all who were present knew that Kather- 
 ine's dead or maimed body had not been discovered, 
 that she was in fact, unharmed, and that nothing 
 more serious than a limping horse, a crushed rid- 
 ing-hat, a torn and soiled pair of gauntlets, and a 
 broken hunting-crop had been found. Also he 
 realized that he was "up against it," to make use 
 of an expression that is more expressive than ele- 
 gant. True, the episode of the pistol had passed. 
 No harm would grow out of that. 
 
 Bingham Harvard's ready wit had relieved the 
 strain, had reassured the alarmed and excited club- 
 members and their guests by offering a very nat- 
 ural explanation in a few words, and already in 
 the excitement that followed upon the announce- 
 ment of the club servant, the thing was forgotten. 
 But Clancy would not soon forget it; Van Cleve 
 would remember it; Harvard, he knew, would have 
 something to say about it later. 
 
 Oddly enough, it was not Harvard, nor was it 
 Clancy, whom Keese most dreaded just then. It 
 was Anderson Van Cleve. For he knew Anderson 
 Van Cleve as no other man in the United States 
 knew the man; knew him for a quiet, determined, 
 implacable, physically fearless character who had 
 faced all kinds of conditions and dangers in the 
 States of Mexico, with never a flinching, and al- 
 ways to the utter rout of the "other fellow." He 
 mentally thanked his stars for that timely interrup- 
 tion, after the pistol had been taken from him and 
 he was rendered defenseless. There was no know- 
 ing what might have happened if it had not been for
 
 WHEN A MAN LIES 259 
 
 that; he shuddered involuntarily when he thought 
 of the amazing strength of Katherine's husband. 
 
 "So, those stories that I was told about him were 
 true," was his mental comment. "He does possess 
 that phenomenal strength of muscle. He is the 
 giant who broke bones like pipe-stems, and threw 
 grown men about like straws in a gale of wind." 
 
 Keese was several yards behind the hindmost of 
 those who had rushed from the room with Harvard 
 and the servant, and he lingered still farther be- 
 hind; for he knew that he had a condition to face 
 in the charge that Clancy had made. He had known 
 last Monday night that both Harvard and Van 
 Cleve would be fruitful soil for the planting of the 
 seed of suspicion. Now it was planted, and with 
 vehemence, and by a hand which would compel 
 those two men to sit up and take notice. And the 
 problem that Benton Keese had to solve during the 
 next half-hour or so and certainly before the time 
 had arrived for his return to the city was whether 
 he should disappear at once and entirely or not 
 do so. 
 
 Then the memory of his sister Betty returned to 
 him. Through her statement to which credence 
 would unquestionably be given if she would make 
 one existed his only immediate danger. And she 
 (he remembered that he had half confessed to her) 
 would take Harvard aside and reveal all she knew, 
 he believed. She would do it for the purpose of 
 convincing Harvard that Katherine was not lying 
 dead or dying somewhere along the route of the 
 chase, if for no other reason. And then, after 
 that what ?
 
 260 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 Keese halted in the wide doorway of the main 
 entrance. Everybody else had crowded forward 
 toward a general center of things, and they were 
 "milling" like so many cattle. He looked over the 
 excited heads and waving arms, searching for Betty 
 with a gaze that skipped nobody, but close as his 
 search for her was he did not see her. And then 
 he remembered what he had told her about the road 
 beyond the old red schoolhouse; and he wondered 
 if she had gone there, believing that he would keep 
 his promise and follow her as soon as he could ex- 
 tricate himself from the predicament in which she 
 had left him. 
 
 Another swift glance around convinced him that 
 Betty was nowhere in sight. He knew that she 
 would have been among the first to seek the center 
 of the present excitement had she been anywhere 
 near. Therefore he could draw only one conclu- 
 sion. Betty had gone to the place of meeting and 
 was waiting there for him. He hurried down the 
 steps then and became one of the eager throng that 
 was gathered around the horse that Katherine had 
 rode that day. 
 
 But already eager searchers were hurrying 
 toward the stables. Already some of the people 
 had sprung into automobiles and started away. 
 Orders were shouted for hurried saddling; horses 
 were hitched to carriages, dogcarts, drays. Fifty 
 or more persons started away on foot toward the 
 course that the hunt had taken at the start. 
 
 Then Keese heard his own name called, and he 
 saw the three men he would have cared most to 
 avoid at that moment approaching him Clancy,
 
 WHEN A MAN LIES 261 
 
 Van Cleve, and Harvard. He went forward to 
 meet them, concern of the deepest sort depicted 
 upon his features. 
 
 "Will you take us to the spot where you parted 
 with Mrs. Harvard?" Bingham asked him. He 
 spoke calmly, although his voice was deep with the 
 anxiety he was suffering. 
 
 "Certainly," he replied as calmly. "I will gladly 
 guide you there and Mr. Van Cleve, also. But 
 not your companion even under the present cir- 
 cumstances." 
 
 Tom's lips parted to utter reply, and it would 
 have been a hot one, judging from the expression 
 of his face; but Harvard put out a hand, grasped 
 him by the arm, and stopped him. 
 
 "Mr. Clancy will accompany us, Mr. Keese," he 
 said, coldly, "and I will venture to ask you again to 
 show us the way and the place." 
 
 "Very well, sir," Keese replied, and bowed. 
 
 "The horses will be brought here to us in a mo- 
 ment. I have already ordered them," Harvard said. 
 
 "Where is your sister?" Van Cleve asked. "We 
 would like to have her with us, also." 
 
 "I haven't an idea. I have not seen her since 
 she left the room where we were together," Keese 
 answered. Then, as if an afterthought, he added : 
 
 "She was very much concerned about the non- 
 appearance of Mrs. Harvard, -and was faint when I 
 took her into that room. I was chafing her hands 
 and endeavoring to reassure her about her friend 
 when we were interrupted. It is possible that when 
 she came outside again and did not find Mrs. Har- 
 vard she may have started out in search of her."
 
 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 Van Cleve nodded in acceptance of that theory. 
 So did Harvard. Clancy stood with his back turned 
 to them, tapping his boot with his crop, and made 
 no comment of any sort. 
 
 In a moment more they were all mounted and 
 riding swiftly toward the wood- fringed ravine. 
 Clancy clung to the rear. Harvard, who was thor- 
 oughly familiar with the locality, led. Van Cleve 
 rode close beside Benton Keese, but never once 
 turned his head, nor spoke a word. But at the 
 same time Holbrook Chilton could feel the iron 
 presence of the man, and was suddenly convinced 
 that the Mexican mine-owner and contractor no 
 longer doubted his double identity. But he smiled 
 inwardly, nevertheless, being convinced also that 
 neither Van Cleve nor any other person would 
 ever be able now to prove the duplicity of his ego. 
 And so they came to the top of the wood road 
 into the ravine and stopped. 
 
 "My girth broke when I was there," Keese said, 
 pointing, and addressing the remark to Harvard. 
 "Mrs. Harvard was just at the top of that steep 
 rise, yonder," and he pointed again. "I dismounted 
 and called out to her to go on, and " 
 
 "You lie !" Clancy shouted at him. "I turned and 
 looked back from far above here, at a point where 
 one can get a glimpse of the wood road, near the 
 bottom of it; and Betty did the same. And we 
 both saw you, and Katherine, too, when you rode 
 into the ravine together. So I tell you again, 
 Keese, you lie. You lie like hell!"
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV 
 
 WHEN KEESE PUT UP A BLUFF 
 
 Bentcn Keese stiffened in the saddle, bending 
 slightly forward as with a quick motion of his left 
 arm he threw one side of the rein against the horse's 
 neck. Then, remembering that saddle-horses are 
 not turned in that manner in the East, he jerked 
 the animal around with the other side of the rein. 
 
 At the same instant he reached for the empty 
 pocket where he had carried that automatic pistol. 
 It was not there, of course. He remembered the 
 fact before his hand had traveled half the distance 
 to it ; but even so, he had recalled the fact too late, 
 for all three of the men had seen the motion and 
 understood its import and at least one of them, 
 thinking that Keese might be possessed of a sec- 
 ond weapon, had acted. 
 
 Van Cleve was that man. He whipped out one 
 of his own pistols on the instant, and before Keese 
 had recovered from the useless gesture indeed, be- 
 fore he could have drawn and held it grimly and 
 steadily, with the muzzle of it pointed straight at 
 the heart of Benton Keese. And his eyes were as 
 cold as icicles and as sharp as pin-points in their 
 intensity. But he said quietly: 
 
 "Put up your hands, Chilton. I know you now. 
 That move of yours with the bridle-rein betrayed 
 you. Just imagine that we are back there in Mexico 
 263
 
 together and that I have got the drop on you. You 
 know me." 
 
 "Mr. Van Cleve " Harvard began; but the 
 
 older man interrupted him. 
 
 "Wait, Harvard," he said sharply. "Keep quiet 
 and let me handle things for a moment." 
 
 But Keese did not raise his hands, or attempt to 
 do so. Instead, he let them drop to the saddle in 
 front of him and sat very still while a slow smile 
 gathered in his eyes and crept down across his fea- 
 tures, relaxing them into the cool self-possessed, 
 fearless individual that he really was. For, to the 
 credit of Benton Keese, be it said that he was al- 
 ways at his best when danger threatened the most. 
 
 All this happened while Van Cleve was using his 
 gun, while Harvard started to exclaim a protest and 
 Van Cleve interrupted him. And Keese recovered 
 his reins again as Van Cleve ended that last remark 
 to Harvard. He lifted them, and at the same time 
 touched his horse's sides with his heels. The ani- 
 mal started forward. Keese raised his cap, and 
 even as Van Cleve ceased speaking he said : 
 
 "I bid you good day, gentlemen." 
 
 "Stop!" Van Cleve called out to him; but Keese 
 rode onward slowly, nor offered to turn his head. 
 "Stop or I'll shoot, so help me " 
 
 "Shoot and be damned!" Keese called back, 
 amusement rather than fear or anger in his tone; 
 and he continued on his way, but without attempt- 
 ing to hasten the speed of his horse. 
 
 "By heaven, but I wish we were in Mexico," Van 
 Cleve ground out between his teeth savagely, and
 
 WHEN KEESE PUT UP A BLUFF 265 
 
 restored the weapon to his pocket. "Go after him, 
 Harvard. Bring him back here. He's Chilton all 
 right. There isn't any doubt of that." 
 
 Harvard started his horse forward. 
 
 "Keese!" he called, as he advanced; and Keese 
 reined in and waited. But he did not offer to turn. 
 Harvard rode up beyond him and faced about, 
 blocking his way. 
 
 "Will you go back there with me?" he asked 
 quietly. 
 
 "No, Mr. Harvard." 
 
 "You know that I can take you back, don't you, 
 if I attempt it?" 
 
 "I don't think you will make the attempt so I 
 need not reply to the question. I am, unfortunately, 
 your guest here to-day. You have permitted me 
 to be grossly insulted in your presence, twice. It 
 would be a fitting climax to your entertainment of 
 my sister and me, if you should, personally, add 
 to these outrages." 
 
 Harvard winced, for there was truth in what was 
 said. 
 
 "Keese?" Bingham began again. 
 
 "Well, sir?" 
 
 "Mr. Van Cleve charges that you are, or have 
 been, the Chilton whom we knew. Are you were 
 you that man?" 
 
 "I will overlook the implied insult of that ques- 
 tion, under the circumstances, and answer it. Most 
 certainly I was not and am not, and could not be, 
 that person." 
 
 "You claimed to have known him."
 
 266 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 "I did know him in precisely the way I have 
 explained." 
 
 "Why do you go about armed, as you were to- 
 day?" 
 
 "Doubtless for the same reason that Van Cleve 
 does so; because I have always been accustomed 
 to doing so. And that reminds me: I will thank 
 you to return my property." 
 
 Harvard reached into a pocket, found the pistol, 
 and returned it. Keese accepted it with a slight 
 nod of thanks. 
 
 "It is empty," Harvard told him. 
 
 Keese nodded again. 
 
 "Is it true that Clancy saw you and my wife ride 
 into the ravine side by side?" Harvard asked then. 
 
 "No. It could not have been true, since we did 
 not do so." 
 
 "But Clancy says that he and your sister both 
 saw you do it." 
 
 "My sister, unfortunately, is not here to support 
 my statement. And, although Clancy appears for 
 some unknown reason to be very deeply prejudiced 
 against me, I will do him the justice to suppose 
 that he is honestly mistaken. There were many 
 riders out to-day. It is possible that others may 
 have descended into the ravine by that road after 
 I had done so." 
 
 Harvard was silent a moment. Then without 
 another word he started his horse forward and re- 
 joined his two friends. 
 
 Keese rode away slowly in the opposite direction 
 without turning his head; but if any of them could
 
 WHEN KEESE PUT UP A BLUFF 267 
 
 have peered into his face just then, they would have 
 seen a lurking smile hovering around the corners of 
 his mouth. 
 
 "Why didn't you bring him back with you, 
 Bing?" Clancy demanded angrily. 
 
 But Harvard did not reply. He rode onward 
 up the brow of the hill beside the ravine, toward 
 the place that had been described to him as the 
 one where Katherine's hat and crop and gauntlets 
 had been found, and his friends followed after. 
 Harvard could not believe that Katherine had sus- 
 tained more than a severe fall which had tempo- 
 rarily disabled her. A sprained ankle, perhaps, so 
 that she could not walk. 
 
 And yet he kept asking himself why the search- 
 ers had found no trace of her near the place where 
 her things were discovered. There was no mistak- 
 ing the spot where Katherine's horse had plunged 
 over the bank into the ravine when Keese struck it 
 Math the crop; the disturbed footing, the crushed 
 and broken twigs and shoots of trees and the un- 
 mistakable evidences of the animal's having rolled 
 over and over, farther down, were all plainly to be 
 seen. 
 
 All three men followed down the course of the 
 hunter's leap and fall and many other searchers 
 were in the immediate locality, seeking, calling 
 aloud, doing everything that wit could suggest to 
 explain the mystery of Mrs. Harvard's strange 
 disappearance immediately after the accident. And 
 at last, when it became evident that further search 
 in that locality was worse than useless, they ga,th-
 
 268 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 ered into a group, a full score or more of them, 
 and made and listened to suggestion after sug- 
 gestion and to every possible theory that could be 
 offered as a solution to the problem. 
 
 The consensus of opinion was, at last, that she 
 must have been seen to take the plunge over the 
 bank and fall by a stranger who happened to be 
 wandering that way or by one or more outsiders 
 who had joined in the hunt without invitation a 
 circumstance that is almost sure to happen at a "big 
 day" of the Forestbrooks. Such person or persons 
 would have gone to her aid; would have taken her 
 direct to the nearest point of assistance and rem- 
 edies and would, by then, have found means to 
 communicate with the club. 
 
 So with shouts of reassurance from one to an- 
 other the search was abandoned and everybody vied 
 with everybody else in a race back to the clubhouse. 
 Night was falling, too, and soon it would be quite 
 dark there in the woods. 
 
 Only Torn Clancy among them all was not con- 
 vinced that news of Katherine would be forthcom- 
 ing at the clubhouse by then. For he had not 
 changed that opinion that had instantly formed 
 in his mind with the first news of her absence. But 
 he kept his silence while they rode rapidly back, 
 although he clung close to Bing Harvard; and so 
 did Van Cleve, at the opposite side of him. But 
 Tom kept repeating to himself : 
 
 "Keese has done this thing, and when Bing finds 
 it out, he'll kill him! Or, / will!"
 
 CHAPTER XXXV 
 
 THE MASK IS TORN AWAY 
 
 There was no news of Katherine at the club- 
 house. With the positive information that nothing 
 had been heard from her or concerning her, Har- 
 vard, who had not yet dismounted, sat very still 
 indeed in his saddle, his features hardened into a 
 marble-like mask of self-repression and self-re- 
 straint. For he knew that he must think ; and think 
 quickly and to the point. 
 
 And as if by common consent those who were 
 gathered near him were also motionless and silent. 
 The interval thus passed might have been counted 
 in seconds, or minutes ; nobody knew as to that ; but 
 an interruption came when a club servant edged 
 his way among them and gave a sealed envelope into 
 Harvard's hand. Then came an audible sigh of re- 
 lief from the waiting friends, for the instant 
 thought was that here, at last, was the blessed news 
 for information of any character would have been 
 blessed in some degree just then. 
 
 Harvard seized upon the envelope and tore it 
 open without so much as a glance at the handwrit- 
 ing upon it. His friends who were gathered around 
 him, eagerly waiting to be told what the message 
 might contain, saw his face harden still more, 
 saw his lips set in a straight line and remain so for 
 269
 
 270 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 a moment before he opened them to speak, saw him 
 cast a swift glance toward Van Cleve, and then 
 toward Clancy. Then, as if decided what to do, 
 he raised the brief note again and read aloud from 
 it so that all could hear. 
 
 "DEAR MR. HARVARD: 
 
 "You will, under the circumstances, find excuses 
 for my sister and me in making our departure from 
 the Forestbrook clubhouse so abruptly. Circum- 
 stances which I will not inflict upon you at this 
 time have arisen which render it imperative for both 
 of us to go away at once and without waiting to 
 make our adieus. 
 
 "We both feel assured that Mrs. Harvard will 
 have returned before you receive this note and that 
 whatever accident she may have met with will not 
 have been a serious one, else some trace of her 
 would undoubtedly have been discovered at the 
 point where it occurred. 
 
 "Believing this, as we both do, we feel less reluc- 
 tance in going; and we desire to extend our mutual 
 sense of appreciation for the graceful courtesies 
 that have been extended to us by you and your 
 friends. 
 
 "Sincerely yours, 
 
 "BENTON KEESE." 
 
 A dead silence obtained after the reading of the 
 note. It was broken, presently, by Harvard, him- 
 self, who said: 
 
 "I read the message of Mr. Keese aloud to you
 
 THE MASK IS TORN AWAY 271 
 
 because I realized that you like myself, supposed 
 it to come from Mrs. Harvard, or to concern her. 
 Since it explains itself, I need offer no further 
 comment." 
 
 "It's a rotten thing for him to do to leave you 
 like this, at this time," somebody remarked in a 
 tone that was distinctly audible to everyone; and 
 there was a general murmur of approval of the 
 sentiment from all sides. 
 
 But Harvard turned away from it all, and still 
 in the saddle, pulled his mount away from the oth- 
 ers. He knew that they were already organizing 
 searching parties for further effort ; and he wanted 
 to think it out, alone. But Tom Clancy, who had 
 dismounted, followed him. 
 
 "Bing," he said, in a guarded undertone, when 
 they were at a safe distance and resting one of 
 his hands reassuringly upon his friend's knee 
 "I've got something hateful to say to you; but it 
 has got to be said. Will you listen? And will you 
 try to be as patient with me as possible?" 
 
 "What is it, Tom?" 
 
 "First, upon my soul I do not believe that Kath- 
 erine has been hurt at all. I do not believe that 
 she has met with an accident of the kind we have 
 feared. What I do believe and this is the hateful 
 thing I had to say what I do honestly believe is 
 that Benton Keese, alias Holbrook Chilton, is re- 
 sponsible for her mysterious disappearance, and 
 that if we could find him and make him talk, he 
 could tell us where to find her right now." 
 
 "Good God, man, do you realize what you are
 
 272 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 saying?" Harvard seemed to steady himself with 
 an effort, but his fingers twitched as he bent for- 
 ward, nearer to Tom. 
 
 "Yes, Bing, I do realize it. And I mean it, too." 
 
 "You are !" Harvard seemed to choke, and 
 
 he stopped. "You are suggesting !" He came 
 
 to a stop again, unable to proceed. And Clancy 
 understood; and gasped, blunderingly: 
 
 "Great heavens, Bing! Do you suppose I meant 
 to imply for a moment that such a thing could have 
 happened with her connivance? Good Lord! I 
 mean that the scoundrel has stolen her away. I 
 mean that he sent her horse over the bluff long after 
 she was out of the saddle. I mean that he tore 
 the gloves, broke the crop, crushed her hat, 
 and " 
 
 "Wait, Tom. Wait. And forgive me. I I 
 came near to choking you, just now. Wait. No; 
 don't wait. Tell me exactly what you mean. I'll 
 listen. I will listen quietly. I won't interrupt you. 
 I'll hear all of it. I want to hear all of it. I must 
 hear " 
 
 "Here is Van Cleve, Bing, coming this way." 
 
 "Never mind. Say it all, in his presence. Go on. 
 Don't wait. He will understand." 
 
 "You more than half believe what I have said, 
 now; don't you?" 
 
 "Go on, I say. Tell me all of it. Tell me every- 
 thing that is on your mind. Your conduct has been 
 incomprehensible since I came down this afternoon. 
 Perhaps this will explain it." 
 
 "It will explain it, Bing."
 
 THE MASK IS TORN AWAY 273 
 
 "Well? Well? Well?" 
 
 "We know none of we three doubt it now! 
 that Keese is Chilton. Van Cleve knows it. You 
 know it. I know it. 
 
 "Van Cleve does not know that Keese is the man 
 whom Katherine ran away from when she came 
 to New York, before you ever saw her." 
 
 "Yes I do. Bingham told me," Van Cleve in- 
 terpolated. 
 
 "Well, then, here is something that neither of 
 you do know : Katherine was afraid of him. She 
 feared him, mightily. Not because of what he 
 might do or say, or attempt to do or say, to her, 
 but because of what she might, in an extreme mo- 
 ment, do to him. She hated him. He aroused in 
 her a primitive emotion that made her want to kill. 
 She told me so herself." 
 
 "Katherine told you that, Tom?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "When?" 
 
 "Last Monday, when we came away from the 
 bank together, after the conference." 
 
 "Go on." 
 
 "She regretted that she had received Betty into 
 her home because it gave Betty's brother the open 
 sesame of the house. She believed that he had sent 
 for Betty to come here for that very purpose. To- 
 day, while Betty and I rode together during the 
 chase, she herself admitted as much to me. Even 
 before we started Betty begged me to stick close 
 to Katherine and not to let Ben, as she calls him, 
 get her away alone with him."
 
 274 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 "But great heavens, Tom ! abduction ? In this 
 day and age?" 
 
 "Bing" Tom put both hands upon Harvard's 
 knee as he bent nearer the better to emphasize what 
 he had to say "Benton Keese is more an animal 
 than a man. He would not hesitate to strike, or to 
 use any kind of force, or to choke, and rend, and 
 tear. If his wits did not serve his ends, he used 
 force. If he could not lead her blindly into a trap 
 that he had set for her, he would not hesitate to 
 throw her into it. 
 
 "He is an animal! a beast! a monster in the 
 shape and guise of a man!" 
 
 Harvard's teeth and lips were tightly compressed. 
 His muscles were flexed and tense. His chest 
 heaved with the intake and expulsion of deep and 
 mighty breaths. But he controlled himself and 
 made no sound. 
 
 "Where is Miss Betty? Why is she not here 
 with us, now?" Van Cleve asked. 
 
 "God only knows !" Tom exploded. "She was not 
 here when we started out to hunt for Katherine. 
 She was gone, even then searching for Katherine, 
 as I supposed, then." 
 
 "But, now? What do you think about it now?" 
 
 "I'll tell you what I think. I burst in upon them 
 suddenly when she was with her brother in that lit- 
 tle parlor. I was wild with anger, for even then I 
 believed that he was responsible for Katherine's 
 absence. He pretended to be chafing Betty's hands, 
 but it was a pretense. I knew it was, at the time. 
 Betty looked no more like fainting than I did and
 
 THE MASK IS TORN AWAY 275 
 
 she isn't of the sort that faints away. I had just 
 charged Keese with knowing where Katherine was 
 when you two appeared. I had charged him with 
 being Holbrook Chilton and a thief and a forger, 
 when you came. You heard only the last words of 
 it. But I'll tell you something that you did not see, 
 and had no time to notice. 
 
 "This : I know / know from Betty's attitude 
 and manner when I charged that cur with being 
 responsible for Katherine's absence, that she had 
 been making that same charge against him, her- 
 self/' 
 
 "Then, where is she? Why isn't she here?" 
 Bingham Harvard demanded, white now, to the 
 lips. 
 
 "I don't know, Bing. I wish I did. You sent 
 her from the room, if you'll remember. You asked 
 her to find Katherine for you. I can only sur- 
 mise " 
 
 "Surmise what?" 
 
 "That just before I interrupted them just after 
 Betty had made the same charge that I made when 
 I burst into the room he had worked his devilish 
 craft upon her, somehow. He might even have par- 
 tially admitted that he did know where Katherine 
 was. He might even have offered to take Betty to 
 her. It would be like his cunning craft, his dev- 
 ilish subtleness." 
 
 "And then ?" 
 
 "I have made inquiries. I can find no one who 
 saw Betty after she came from that room. We 
 remained there for some time afterward. She must
 
 276 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 have gone away at once. Therefore her brother 
 had said something to her that sent her away." 
 
 "Would she have gone like that?" Van Cleve 
 asked. 
 
 "She would have gone anywhere in the hope of 
 finding Katherine. She would have gone nowhere 
 just then without such a hope. And she did go." 
 
 "Enough !" Harvard put in sharply. 
 
 He was silent a moment, and his two friends 
 waited in suspense for his next remark. 
 
 "You have convinced me, Tom," he said in a 
 dead, expressionless voice, presently. "I am con- 
 vinced. I think now that I have been convinced 
 from the start only I would not have it so. I 
 have suspected Keese's motives in my house since 
 the first moment I saw him there only I would 
 not admit to myself that I did suspect. I have 
 coupled him with Chilton from the first only I 
 would not let myself do it. Now we must find 
 him. And when he is found I will " 
 
 Van Cleve interrupted in his quiet tone. 
 
 "I know the man from the ground up," he said. 
 "I do not think that he will be difficult to find." 
 
 "Why?" Harvard asked. 
 
 "He will show himself. It is his way. The 
 man is absolutely fearless. If he possesses an 
 abundant passion, it is the love of danger. He will 
 not run away yet. He will go to his hotel and 
 wait, unless " 
 
 "Unless what?" Clancy demanded when Van 
 Cleve hesitated. 
 
 Van Cleve did not reply.
 
 THE MASK IS TORN AWAY 277 
 
 "You mean," Harvard said evenly, "unless his 
 plans were so well prepared that he has been able 
 to get away already, and to take my wife with him. 
 Is that what you mean, Van Cleve?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Get the car, Tom. We will go back to the city 
 now. Try to make all these people think that we 
 are starting out to continue the search. Later, per- 
 haps it will be as well if one of you should tele- 
 phone here to the club that Katherine has been 
 found not badly injured and taken home by 
 somebody. It will avoid unpleasant complexities 
 and comment." 
 
 Ten minutes later they drove away.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI 
 
 A HOLD-UP AT THE RED SCHOOLHOUSE 
 
 Black Julius drove the car that carried Bingham 
 Harvard, Tom Clancy and Anderson Van Cleve 
 away from the clubhouse. It was the same car 
 that had taken Katherine and her company out to 
 that Connecticut "wilderness," which, although it 
 is less than fifty miles from New York, might well 
 be a thousand miles away in its rough and seamed 
 contour and wildness. That was why the Forest- 
 brook Club had chosen the locality. They hunted 
 foxes there, not aniseed bags. 
 
 Night had fallen, and since then clouds had gath- 
 ered thickly. It was unutterably dark. But the 
 glaring headlights of the car like giant fingers picked 
 up and exposed to view every object that appeared 
 upon the highway along their course. And so pres- 
 ently when they shot at racing speed around a slight 
 bend in the road the ribbon-like beams struck upon 
 the red schoolhouse and upon the figures of two 
 men who stood beside the roadway before it. 
 
 The huge car was traveling like a bullet and 
 would have shot past the two men almost as swiftly. 
 But Harvard, who was seated beside Julius, called 
 out suddenly when the lights exposed them to view. 
 
 "Stop the car!" he commanded; and the black 
 obeyed. 
 
 278
 
 HOLD-UP AT THE RED SCHOOLHOUSE 
 
 Trembling, pulsing, heaving, the car came to a 
 standstill. The two men sprang forward and 
 stopped beside the mud-guard, close to the young 
 bank president. 
 
 "Rushton!" Harvard exclaimed. "And Banta!" 
 he added in amazement. 
 
 Then: "How does it happen that you are here, 
 Rushton?" 
 
 "I haven't been away not so's you could notice 
 it, Mr. Harvard," Rushton replied quickly, with 
 a broad grin of appreciation of the incident upon 
 his face. 
 
 "We sent our astral bodies to Mexico, sir," 
 Banta added. "We thought that the physical ones 
 might be more useful right here." 
 
 "Mr. Van Cleve knew that I hadn't gone away," 
 Rushton continued, speaking rapidly. "We cooked 
 up another scheme together, which served as well. 
 I figgered it out that there was a way for a feller 
 like me to be in two places at once. So, you see, 
 right now I am here! And I'm in Mexico City, 
 tambien, as Mr. Van Cleve puts it; which means 
 'likewise,' 'also,' and 'just the same.' I am here; 
 and I am there, too. And the part of me that is 
 there will be back here by to-morrow, I'm thinking, 
 or by the day after, anyhow. Eh, Mr. Van Cleve?" 
 
 "Yes. I think so," Van Cleve answered. "That 
 is how we estimated." 
 
 "Get in," Harvard said. "We can talk as we 
 ride on. I am in a hurry. We are after " 
 
 "Mr. Benton Keese. I know," Rushton inter- 
 rupted.
 
 280 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 "You know Do you know what has hap- 
 pened, Rushton? You and Banta?" 
 
 "We know one thing that has happened ; maybe 
 not all of it," Rushton replied with another grin. 
 
 "We must overtake Keese before he can get to 
 his hotel in the city and away from it again. He 
 and his sister are somewhere on the road ahead of 
 us." 
 
 "I don't know anything about his sister, Mr. Har- 
 vard; but he, Mister Benton-Holbrook-Chilton- 
 Keese by name, is attendin' night-school this 
 evenin', and you won't have very far to go to find 
 him buh-lieve me!" 
 
 "What?" Clancy cried out, his eyes upon the red 
 schoolhouse. 
 
 Rushton jerked his head toward it and grinned. 
 
 "Uh-huh," he said. "In there. The door wasn't 
 locked. We thought we'd put him outa sight an' 
 give him a chance to think things over a little while 
 Banta an' me talked 'em over and waited f 'r you an' 
 Mr. Clancy an' Mr. Van Cleve to show up. And 
 we kinda wanted to see Lady Kate, too. I suppose 
 she's comin' in another car behind you." 
 
 "Then you don't know!" Clancy spoke up. 
 
 "Don't know what?" Rushton's eyes narrowed. 
 His mouth became suddenly grim; and his jaws 
 were set tightly together after the question as he 
 turned to face Tom Clancy. 
 
 Van Cleve replied quickly, before either of his 
 companions could do so. 
 
 "Something has happened to Mrs. Harvard, 
 Rushton. We do not know what it is. But she
 
 HOLD-UP AT THE RED SCHOOLHOUSE 281 
 
 has disappeared," and then, swiftly, he explained 
 everything to the two detectives. 
 
 Rushton and Banta exchanged rapid glances at 
 each other while Van Cleve talked. As he finished, 
 the distant purring of an approaching automobile 
 fell upon their ears. 
 
 "Drive around into that side road, Julius," Rush- 
 ton directed quickly. "Then shut off your lights 
 so's we needn't be seen hangin' around here an' 
 givin' some guy an excuse to stop an' ask a lota 
 fool-questions. Banta 'n me'll chase along." 
 
 "But," Clancy spoke, "is Keese secure so that 
 he can't get away?" 
 
 "He has got a bracelet of mine on one wrist and 
 a bracelet of Banta's on the other one and the twin 
 of both of 'em are hitched to the iron legs of two 
 desks inside," Rushton replied. "I guess mebby 
 if it was the Night Wind in there they wouldn't 
 hold him, but bein' that he ain't " 
 
 But Julius shot the car ahead at that instant at 
 his master's command and turned into the same side 
 road to which Keese had directed his sister that 
 afternoon, putting out his lights as soon as he had 
 made the turn and got his bearings properly. - Rush- 
 ton and Banta ran after it and were lost to view 
 of the searchlights when the approaching car shot 
 past the red schoolhouse. 
 
 Harvard leaped to the ground as soon as the 
 other car had gone by. 
 
 "Take me to him now, he ordered," and started 
 onward toward the schoolhouse door; but Rushton 
 put out a hand and detained him.
 
 282 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 "Wait, Mr. Harvard please," he said with a 
 quiet dignity that was new to his known character, 
 and yet which belonged to him and fitted him; the 
 dignity of an honest man who could face the world 
 unblinkingly. 
 
 Harvard stopped. 
 
 "Well?" he demanded impatiently. 
 
 "I think that we ought to know something about 
 where we're at before we go in there an' throw 
 the gaff into that guy. You see, we ain't got nothin' 
 on him which will let us hold him an' 'take him in/ 
 like you would do with any decent crook you'd 
 pinched. I couldn't take him to a station house, 
 even if I had him over the line an' into New York 
 state right now, and make a charge against him that 
 would go. The lieutenant at the desk would turn 
 him loose in a holy minute." 
 
 "Then what do you propose to do, Rushton ?" 
 
 "You see, it's this way : Banta an' me know that 
 he is Chilton. We know that he is the guy that 
 got away with your coin. But we can't prove 
 that we know it; not right now we can't. And he 
 can't be held as a suspicious character, or for in- 
 vestigation, or anything like that, just because of 
 the way he has been livin' since he came to New 
 York. Why, he's been livin' at your house almost 
 as much as anywheres else; and under his right 
 name, too, which is Benton Keese." 
 
 "Then why did you arrest him?" 
 
 "We didn't arrest him. We just took him," 
 Rushton replied, grinning. 
 
 "Why if you can prove nothing against him?"
 
 HOLD-UP AT THE RED SCHOOLHOUSE 283 
 
 "Well, we figgered that he was bent on makin' 
 his getaway mighty sudden. We thought, when 
 we lamped him comin' along the road just at the 
 edge of dark that he had rung the all-right bell an' 
 was makin' full steam ahead for the sky-line. So 
 we stopped him." 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 "Right here." 
 
 "Was he on foot?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "And alone?" 
 
 "Sure. And bein' as there wasn't anybody 
 around, we just stepped out in front of him and 
 held him up. He don't know that we are cops. 
 Maybe he's got a suspicion that way, but he don't 
 know it." 
 
 "He knows you, Rushton." 
 
 "Well, he didn't know me this trip. Banta an* 
 me tied handkerchiefs over our faces, an' Banta 
 done all the chinnin'. We thought afterward that 
 mebby we'd been a little too precipitate. But when 
 you consider that he's had pretty near the whole 
 Dudley Roland agency workin' for him lately, and 
 that he has been havin' me and you and Banta and 
 Mr. Clancy an' Mr. Van Cleve trailed and reported 
 on everywhere we go, and that now he was doin' 
 the sneaker-act away from that club where you was 
 entertainin' him, it looked to us like he was hikin'. 
 That's why we stopped him, Mr. Harvard; and 
 that's why, instead of goin' on to that club as we 
 was intendin' to do, to talk it over with you three 
 and Lady Kate, we decided to wait right here, with
 
 284 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 him tied up inside of the schoolhouse, an* flag 
 you when you showed up." 
 
 "May I ask a few questions, Bingham?" Van 
 Cleve requested, stepping nearer. Then, without 
 waiting for a reply, he added, addressing Rushton : 
 "Have you heard from Mexico? From Mr. 
 Corona ?" 
 
 "Twice since you an' me sent that hundred-an'- 
 thirty word message to him. Yes sir." 
 
 "What did he say?" 
 
 "The first one said he had received the dope all 
 right, and the second one said he had found the 
 'goods' that we asked him to get, an' was forward- 
 in' it by ;r-press, that bein', in his opinion, safer'n 
 the mail. And it's about due to arrive here to-mor- 
 row, or the next day, accordin' to the way I figger 
 it out." 
 
 "Corona had discovered what you wanted, Rush- 
 ton?" 
 
 "Yep. Some in your office in that there Gauntlet 
 Street, an' more of 'em in the other place where 
 Chilton lived down there, in Fil-lippy Neery 
 Street." 
 
 "What was it that you sent for?" Harvard 
 asked. 
 
 "The Bertillon dope, Mr. Harvard finger-prints, 
 thumb-prints. And there ain't no human way but 
 that by which you can prove that Chilton and Keese 
 are the same man." 
 
 "Senor Tranquilino Corona was the most effi- 
 cient officer in the secret service of former Presi-
 
 HOLD-UP AT THE RED SCHOOLHOUSE 285 
 
 dent Diaz," Van Oeve hastened to explain. "He 
 is also a very good friend of mine. 
 
 "Lieutenant Rushton realized after the disap- 
 pearance of Chilton from the Pullman car that it 
 would be extremely difficult to identify Keese with 
 Chilton, and last Monday after we came away from 
 the bank Rushton and I made up the telegram and 
 sent it to Corona." 
 
 Harvard turned again to Rushton. 
 
 "Did you already suspect, then, that Keese was 
 Chilton?" he asked. 
 
 "Mr. Clancy gave me that tip, Mr. Harvard. 
 He got it from a handshake. I had picked one up 
 myself before that; only I didn't know the value of 
 it until later not until I heard Mr. Van Cleve talk 
 about it that afternoon at the bank. You see, sir, 
 that time when I called at your house the evening 
 of the day you an' the district attorney turned me 
 loose and I was introduced to Mr. Benton Keese, 
 it didn't happen to be the first time I'd set eyes onto 
 him. I had lamped him just about an hour before 
 that when he was standin' out in front of the 
 Mammoth an' I was standin' close to him while I 
 waited for the time to slip past before I could go to 
 see you 'n' Lady Kate. And I wouldn't have taken 
 a second look at him then if he hadn't been rollin' 
 a cigarette. But, first off, he seemed like too swell 
 a guy to be usin' his own makin's, an' then it cer- 
 tainly was a queer way he rolled it. But even then 
 I didn't think no more about it till Mr. Van Cleve 
 said what he did last Monday."
 
 286 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 "Why did you not tell me about that, Rushton?" 
 Van Cleve asked. 
 
 "There wasn't any particular reason, sir; only 
 that I thought that mebby you or Mr. Clancy, if 
 you knew about it, might say 'r do something to 
 flush our bird before I had the gun cocked an' 
 ready. 
 
 "Say, Mr. Harvard, do you wanta go inside of 
 the schoolhouse and talk to him? Because I'm 
 thinkin' from what's been told to me that it wouldn't 
 surprise me none if he has had a hand in fixin' 
 that frame-up about Lady Kate's bein' hurt." 
 
 Harvard started swiftly ahead. The others fol- 
 lowed. The young bank president pushed open the 
 door and entered. Rushton and Banta paused be- 
 side him, and with flash-lights taken from their 
 pockets shot penetrating rays toward the spot where 
 they had left their captive and then into every 
 corner and shadow in the room. But Benton Keese 
 was no longer there. He had disappeared.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII 
 
 THE DISAPPEARANCE OF KEESE 
 
 There was no denying the fact that Keese had 
 disappeared. There was evidence enough at hand 
 also to explain the manner of his going, for the two 
 school-desks with iron legs screwed to the floor, to 
 which he had been fastened in the manner described 
 by Rushton, were missing, too. That seems laugh- 
 able at first ; but it was also significant : For the 
 screws had been drawn from the floor by a proper 
 tool, not pried out of it; and the remains of the 
 desk were not scattered about promiscuously. 
 Therefore, they had gone away with Benton Keese, 
 presumably through the small door at the rear of 
 the schoolroom. 
 
 Keese, because of the way he had been fastened, 
 could not have reached either of the desks to draw 
 the screws, even had he been provided with a tool 
 for doing it; nor was it likely that he had trotted 
 off with a desk beneath each arm. It was plain, 
 therefore, that assistance had been given him; that 
 another person had been there; that it had been 
 somebody who could obtain immediate access to a 
 tool-box, and that the desks had been taken away 
 with the man simply to avoid the noise that would 
 be necessary in separating him from them. 
 
 Rushton absorbed all of those details very quickly 
 and ran for the little door at the rear, and through 
 it into the open at once. Banta followed. The 
 287
 
 288 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 others retraced their steps as they had come and 
 returned to the car. Rushton and Banta rejoined 
 them almost at once. 
 
 "Keese had his gray car waiting for him down 
 that side road, Mr. Harvard," Rushton explained. 
 "The tracks of it are there. We found them. It 
 was drawn up at the side of the road among some 
 bushes and headed the other way. So you see it 
 was waitin' there for him." 
 
 "Yes. But we must not waste time talking here, 
 Rushton. We " 
 
 "Please give me a minute more, sir." 
 
 "Go on." 
 
 "Banta an' me figger it out that the chauffeur 
 of his car had walked out this way and saw us 
 when we held his nibs up and took him into the 
 schoolhouse. / didn't stay in there any longer'n 
 was necessary; hardly a minute; just long enough 
 to help make him fast. I didn't want him to recog- 
 nize me if it could be helped. I came outside, and 
 Banta came, too, a minute later. Then we stood at 
 the door and chinned for a while and then went out 
 to the roadside. We ain't either of us been inside of 
 that building since we took him in there. See ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "And it's more'n likely that that chauffeur of 
 his'n got him away before you three gentlemen got 
 here at all. Anyhow, it explains why he was saun- 
 terin' along the highway like he was doin' when 
 we lamped him. 
 
 "Now will you all please take a look at this? 
 I picked it up out yonder where his car was waitin'. 
 Mebby one of you can tell who it belongs to."
 
 THE DISAPPEARANCE OF KEESE 289 
 
 All three men bent forward to peer closely when 
 Rushton threw the gleam of his flash-light upon an 
 object that he held in the hollow of one hand, and 
 Tom Clancy exclaimed instantly: 
 
 "Why, it's Betty's bracelet-watch ! It belongs to 
 Miss Keese," he added soberly. 
 
 "Then she was out there, too, in that waiting 
 car," Rushton said. "But she wasn't there of her 
 own free will, I don't think. Look closer, Mr. 
 Clancy. You'll see two or three tiny spots of blood 
 on it if you do. It's my opinion, and Banta agrees 
 with me, that she was tied up so's she couldn't 
 get loose, and that she had something over her 
 mouth so's she couldn't holler, either. But that she 
 had her senses with her all the same." 
 
 "But ' 
 
 "Wait, please. \Vhen that chauffeur went away 
 an' left her she musta tried to think of something 
 that she could do to leave a trace behind her that 
 she had been there ; and so she must have managed 
 to scrape that bracelet loose from her wrist against 
 the car or something, and drop it alongside of the 
 road. But whether she done it on purpose or it 
 got there where we found it by accident, it was 
 there; and it means " 
 
 "What?" Harvard asked. 
 
 Instead of replying directly, Rushton turned. 
 
 "Julius," he said sharply, "turn on your lights 
 and your power. I'll ride beside you. Go as fast 
 as you like till you come to a cross-road or a lane 
 or a turn-off of any kind. Then pull up till further 
 orders. It's a lead-pipe cinch that Keese's car didn't 
 go out of that side road this way.
 
 290 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 "Banta is goin' to chase along the main road 
 in the taxi that brought us down here, which is 
 waitin' up the road a half mile or so to head him 
 off if possible. If Mr. Van Qeve will follow 
 my advice he'll go along with Banta. The rest 
 of the bunch will try to follow the trail left by 
 Keese's car. And we can do that, too till it 
 takes to a traveled road. After that we'll have 
 to do some guessin' an' figgerin. 
 
 "Go on, Julius." 
 
 Connecticut roads throughout that region which 
 is located back of the Norwalks are rough and 
 hilly and many of them are used but little, and 
 the narrow and bush-fringed one that Harvard's 
 car followed, driven at a rapid speed by black 
 Julius, belonged in the latter class. It was that 
 sort of a road which is sometimes described as 
 leading uphill both ways. 
 
 As soon as they had started Rushton turned in 
 his seat and said to the two men who were seated 
 behind : 
 
 "Banta and me had time to do a little exam- 
 inin' just where Keese's car had been waitin', and 
 the tracks we found told us that the gray car 
 didn't come to that place by the main road. 
 
 "It came from the way we're headin' now, and 
 it was turned around so's to head back again to- 
 ward the way it had come from while it waited 
 which, as / look at it, is pretty good reason to 
 suppose that it wasn't goin' right back to the city 
 this trip. So mebby we can follow it, and mebby 
 we can't. But we're goin' to have a try at it, 
 anyhow."
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII 
 
 WHAT BECAME OF BETTY 
 
 Betty Keese, sent from the room where her 
 brother had been called a thief and a forger by the 
 man she loved, and where Keese in sudden rage 
 had attempted to strike Clancy, but was pre- 
 vented from doing so by the swift action of the 
 Night Wind, was more than ever concerned about 
 the absence of Katherine. 
 
 She did not understand the epithets that Tom 
 had hurled at Benton, because she had been told 
 nothing about the "Holbrook Chilton" affair. But 
 she did know her brother better than anybody 
 else knew him, even though much of her knowledge 
 of him was intuitive; and she did not for a mo- 
 ment doubt that Tom Clancy had believed that he 
 had very good and sufficient reason for making 
 such charges, else for Betty loved him he would 
 not have made them at all. 
 
 And she was certain when that room door closed 
 behind her that Benton did know where Katherine 
 was and that the accident that was supposed to 
 have happened to her was a fake, and had not 
 occurred at all. It never occurred to Betty not 
 to go to the red schoolhouse. She had believed that 
 Benton was in earnest in giving her that direction 
 and she followed it the moment she was free to 
 
 291
 
 292 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 do so with all the speed that she could muster; and 
 her Kentucky training had imparted plenty of 
 strength to her muscles. Accustomed to rural 
 localities and recalling distinctly the appearance of 
 the little schoolhouse, she ran from the club at 
 the end of the veranda unnoticed, struck across 
 the field to cut off the great bend in the main high- 
 way and sped onward with rapid footsteps toward 
 her goal. 
 
 The schoolhouse door was not fastened and she 
 peered inside breathlessly, really believing that she 
 would find Lady Kate there. But it was deserted 
 of course. Then she went outside again and around 
 into the side road to discover that it was as de- 
 serted as the schoolhouse. So recalling exactly 
 what Benton-had said to her that she should wait 
 patiently until he came she selected a seat on a 
 rock beside the road and composed herself to wait. 
 Time passed and the shadows lengthened. The 
 afternoon was changing into evening and night, al- 
 though the sunlight still gleamed upon the topmost 
 leaves of many of the surrounding trees. 
 
 Then she was startled by the purring of an ap- 
 proaching motor, and soon the gray car, which she 
 instantly recognized as the one in whicty Benton 
 had taken her to ride the preceding Monday, darted 
 into view from around a twist in that wood-bor- 
 dered roadway and came to a stop in front of her. 
 The man who drove it she did not know ; had never 
 seen. But she did not consider that point at all 
 when she stepped quickly forward toward him and 
 said interrogatively :
 
 WHAT BECAME OF BETTY 293 
 
 "I am Miss Keese. This is my brother's car, I 
 suppose ?" 
 
 "Yes, Miss Keese," the chauffeur replied, re- 
 spectfully touching his cap. 
 
 "He directed you to meet me here, I suppose?" 
 she asked. 
 
 "Yes, Miss Keese. I will turn the car around 
 if you will wait a moment." 
 
 He did so, and drove it beside the road among 
 the overshadowing bushes where Rushton and Banta 
 were later to discover that it had been standing. 
 
 "Why do you do that?" Betty asked as he got 
 down and came toward her. 
 
 "I was directed to wait a short time for Mr. 
 Keese, and then to take you to a house in the neigh- 
 borhood, if he was detained," the chauffeur replied. 
 
 "Then take me there now" Betty demanded im- 
 petuously and with heightened color. "You can re- 
 turn for him if the house isn't far away. I will 
 go there now, please. There is a friend awaiting 
 me." 
 
 The man looked at her oddly, but she did not per- 
 ceive it. From a distance, at the same moment, 
 came the purring of another motor. The chauf- 
 feur stepped nearer to Betty, reached past her, and 
 pulled a light lap-robe from the seat beside the 
 driver's place. He said : 
 
 "Will you get in, Miss Keese?" 
 
 Unsuspectingly Betty stepped forward and lifted 
 a foot preparatory to getting into the car. For the 
 moment her back was turned to the chauffeur. He 
 stood directly behind it and it was the situation
 
 294 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 for which he had been maneuvering. For it would 
 appear that Betty's brother had foreseen every pos- 
 sible incident of that day, and had given his orders 
 accordingly. In fact, the brief directions in Span- 
 ish, given to the men at the house where Lady Kate 
 had been taken, had foretold to them the possible 
 arrival there of his sister and had directed what 
 was to be done with her. The instant when Betty's 
 back was turned to the chauffeur he threw light- 
 ly over her head and held there the robe that he 
 had taken from the carseat. 
 
 Betty struggled and tried to call out; but the 
 chauffeur was a powerful man and held her easily, 
 while the robe over her head deadened the sound of 
 her cries. All the while the man was saying to her : 
 
 "You'll not be hurt, Miss Keese. It's your 
 brother's orders. It won't do any good to fight 
 back, because I've got to do it. And you'll be let 
 loose as soon as we get to the house where the 
 other lady is waiting." 
 
 While he talked he was fastening a strap around 
 the encircling blanket so that she could not get 
 away. 
 
 "I've got to take you there first and then come 
 back here after Mr. Keese," he continued. "I don't 
 like to do this; you needn't think I do. But it's 
 his orders, and I've got to;" and all the time he 
 was working steadily to render her fastenings the 
 more secure. 
 
 "Now, Miss Keese," he said finally, "if you 
 will give me your word of honor that you won't 
 call out, and won't make any noise, and won't try
 
 WHAT BECAME OF BETTY 295 
 
 to get away, I'll take that robe away. If it was 
 some other man than your brother who had ordered 
 me to do this, you might have good reason to get 
 scared; but being him, and seeing that he is your 
 brother, you had best promise, so that I can make 
 you as comfortable as possible." 
 
 Betty, furious with anger, reasoned nevertheless. 
 She was going to Katherine" and before her brother 
 came. If she called out, if somebody from that ap- 
 proaching motor which she could no longer hear 
 should interfere, she might be, and doubtless would 
 be, prevented from getting to Katherine in advance 
 of Benton. So reluctantly she gave the promise, 
 and he removed the robe from around her head 
 and face, but did not take it away entirely so that 
 presently, when she discovered that he had left her, 
 or had withdrawn to some spot where she could no 
 longer see him, she found, also, that her arms were 
 still confined and that the strap that held them was 
 fastened behind her so she could not leave the seat. 
 
 She called to the chauffeur, but he did not reply. 
 Then she waited impatiently for a time before she 
 struggled to free herself. But she did make the 
 effort at last, and succeeded in freeing one arm, with 
 which she sought to reach around behind her in 
 order to release the strap that held her fast. It 
 was then that the bracelet watch was torn from 
 her wrist accidentally and not by design, although 
 it served the purpose as well later. 
 
 Immediately after that the chauffeur came 
 hurrying back to her, and she could hear him at 
 the tool-box, while he said rapidly:
 
 396 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 "Mr. Keese is here. He will be with you in a 
 moment" ; and he hastened away again. 
 
 A little while later she heard the voice of Benton 
 harshly giving directions to the chauffeur, behind 
 where she was seated. She heard him say : 
 
 "Quick, now ! Wrench those things loose. Never 
 mind the cuffs. Leave them where they are for the 
 present. Carry those things into the woods and 
 drop them. It's dark now. They won't be seen. 
 Now, hurry; or I'll leave VQU here." 
 
 Then he sprang into the seat beside her and 
 seized the steering-wheel; and Betty saw with the 
 utmost amazement, although dimly, for darkness 
 had fallen in there under the trees, that from each of 
 Benton's wrists something ominous was dangling. 
 
 The chauffeur returned and sprang into the rum- 
 ble-seat of the car. Benton started it forward, and 
 they shot away through the darkness until after 
 they had rounded that twist of the narrow road. 
 Then the lights were turned on. Keese had paid 
 not the slightest attention to the exclamations, pro- 
 tests, and questions that Betty had fired at him 
 ever since his arrival. But after they had rounded 
 the turn in the road he leaned nearer to her and 
 said grimly into her ear so that the chauffeur be- 
 hind them in the rumble-seat could not hear him: 
 
 "I am taking you to Kitten now, and it rests with 
 you only what will happen to you after that. For 
 I have got to go away to-night. And she is going 
 with me. You shall go, too, under conditions or 
 stay. And I'll promise that vou won't want to do 
 that."
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX 
 
 THE COURAGE OF LADY KATE 
 
 Lady Kate started to her feet when she heard 
 the voice of Benton Keese outside the door. When 
 he had left her there nearly four hours earlier she 
 had remained in a sort of physical half stupor for 
 a long time, although her brain had been busy 
 enough with the problem she was facing and with 
 her material helplessness to meet and overcome it. 
 Nevertheless her courage, always superb, did not 
 falter even in that extremity. It was a man's kind 
 of courage, which, while it does not belittle the 
 fearsome things that threaten, faces them without 
 flinching and struggles to the last to overcome them, 
 never doubting ultimate victory. 
 
 She had remained inert, the better to think and 
 plan and determine what she should do when Ben- 
 ton Keese returned ; but during the last hour, after 
 the dark-skinned woman appeared to make a light 
 for her, she had been pacing restlessly up and 
 down the room until the last few moments, when 
 she had again dropped upon the low chair. The 
 woman had entered softly, and had paused just 
 inside the door, tentatively, and with a backward 
 glance over her shoulder. Katherine, following 
 that glance, saw that one of the men who had been 
 outside was there waiting and watching. Evi- 
 
 297
 
 298 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 dently the woman had been warned not to enter 
 Lady Kate's presence unguarded. 
 
 Save for the woman's hasty return and exit 
 when she took away Katherine's hat and gauntlets 
 to which the captive had paid no attention and 
 when she came later to make a light, Katherine had 
 been left utterly alone. Thus opportunity had been 
 afforded her to recover from the shock of the mon- 
 strous trick that had been played upon her and to 
 regain her self-poise and self-reliance. For she had 
 been stunned by the enormity of the act committed 
 against her, rather than frightened by it. 
 
 So when after the hours of waiting she did 
 hear the voice of Benton Keese beyond the door 
 that opened upon the porch, and when that was 
 followed by the tread of his feet upon the weather- 
 worn boards, she was entirely her old brave self 
 again, unafraid, defiant and resolute; and she 
 stepped behind the small table that occupied the 
 center of the room under the swinging lamp and 
 waited. She possessed no weapon of any sort ; not 
 so much as a stick. And she had searched fruit- 
 lessly for something of the sort during the time of 
 her restless pacing to and fro. Still she believed 
 that she was armed, nevertheless, with the moral 
 power of right over a contemplated wrong; with 
 her own individuality and purity and loftiness of 
 soul. 
 
 Always, until that moment whenever she had 
 heard the voice and step of Benton Keese, she had 
 been in fear of him. Now, when he was there, 
 and she was his prisoner, and, in a sense, at his
 
 THE COURAGE OF LADY KATE 
 
 mercy, she suddenly feared him not at all. Literally, 
 she was unafraid. She made a picture, too, fac- 
 ing him as she did, when he opened that outer door 
 with a key and entered the room. 
 
 He closed it and stood before it, looking at her ; 
 and she returned his gaze steadfastly, without a 
 tremor of eye or lip, without the slightest quicken- 
 ing of her heartbeats, and without one nervous 
 dread. For suddenly she had become clothed with 
 entire confidence in her own power to master a 
 situation that was almost unthinkable because of 
 the monstrous effrontery and foolhardiness of it. 
 Her slender figure was erect, her eyes were calm 
 and inscrutable, her pose was one that she might 
 have assumed had an unwelcome guest entered her 
 own home and her presence. 
 
 Perhaps that was why Benton Keese came to a 
 full stop inside of the door and stood facing her 
 for a time, speechless. Doubtless he had expected 
 to find her overcome with terror and prepared to 
 plead with him for the consideration and the mercy 
 he had determined not to grant. More than likely 
 he had anticipated tears, protestations, passionate 
 pleadings and prayers to be set free at once and re- 
 turned to her home. There was no suggestion of 
 any of them in the attitude of Katherine Harvard, 
 the bride, the wife, of the Night Wind. And he 
 was startled, amazed puzzled, too. 
 
 "Have you come to take me back again, in the 
 hope that I will excuse your conduct and forget the 
 confession you made to me?" she asked him calm- 
 ly, and as if with the certainty that he had done so.
 
 800 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 He smiled, then, recovering himself, and glanced 
 at his watch before he replied. Apparently he was 
 merely estimating the time he could afford to spare 
 for argument with her. 
 
 "I have come," he said, "to take you away. But 
 not back to the clubhouse. Nor to the place you 
 have called home. I have come back to take you 
 away. That is definite enough for the present." 
 
 "I will not go," she replied. 
 
 "You will have to go. If you refuse to walk to 
 my car, which is waiting for us, you will be carried 
 to it. Oh, / will not touch you yet. But I have 
 two men here. You have seen them both. They 
 will perform that small service for me in case you 
 are obstinate. Come. Are you ready to go quietly ? 
 The woman is bringing a hood and coat and motor- 
 veil which I have provided. It is nearly half a 
 mile to the place where the car is waiting. And 
 ' Betty is there to receive you." 
 
 Betty ? Katherine was visibly startled. Then she 
 was angry, for she did not doubt that he lied. 
 
 "I do not believe you," she said. 
 
 He shrugged and put out his hands deprecatingly. 
 
 "She is there, waiting for you," he said. "See, 
 I have brought this with me to prove it." > 
 
 He tossed a slip of paper upon the table between 
 them. 
 
 "I thought you would not believe me. Betty 
 thought so, too; so she wrote that message at my 
 request. She approved of it, too, or she wouldn't 
 have written it. You know her well enough for 
 that. Read what she has said."
 
 THE COURAGE OF LADY KATE 301 
 
 But Katharine did not lower her glance. She 
 still stared at Benton Keese with that same half 
 impersonal scrutiny that she had devoted to him 
 ever since he came into the room; and she still 
 doubted, not having looked upon the writing. 
 
 "Betty approved?" she repeated after him. "Of 
 what did she approve ?" 
 
 "Read what she has written. That is your an- 
 swer." 
 
 So Katherine dropped her eyes, and read in sil- 
 ence: 
 
 "Come. I am waiting for you in Benton's car. 
 It will be better for both of us if we are together. 
 
 "BETTY." 
 
 The handwriting was unmistakably Betty's. 
 Katherine no longer doubted that she was at the 
 car, waiting. Nevertheless she did not understand 
 just how that could be, unless 
 
 "Betty has made you do this, Benton? Has 
 found a way to force you to " 
 
 "Betty is there. It is enough," he interrupted 
 her shortly. "And we waste time. Here is the 
 Mexican woman with the things for you to wear." 
 
 He opened and closed the case of his watch with 
 an impatient snap. 
 
 "Will you take me back to the club if I consent 
 to go with you now?" Katherine asked. 
 
 "No," he said, and again snapped the watch- 
 case. "Put on those things and come with me. My 
 time is up."
 
 302 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 "But I must know " 
 
 "Will you come, or shall I call those two men 
 to lead you or to carry you, as the case may be?" 
 For the briefest instant more she hesitated; and 
 while she did so Keese spoke to the Mexican 
 woman, who opened that inside door through which 
 she had appeared and spoke two names into the 
 darkness beyond it. 
 
 "Jose! Manuel!" she called; and the two ugly 
 faced men Katherine had seen in the yard when 
 she arrived, appeared, and stood waiting, just be- 
 yond the opening. They impressed her much as 
 two savage dogs might have done. She felt in- 
 stinctively that they would attack and perhaps bite, 
 too, at a word from their master; and she still be- 
 lieved in the power within herself to control Ben- 
 ton Keese. She was still without actual fear of 
 him alone. 
 
 "I will go," she said calmly, and began to adjust 
 the things that the Mexican woman had brought. 
 
 "Hurry!" Keese ordered impatiently, and 
 snapped his watch again. 
 
 It occurred to Katherine then for the first time 
 that Benton had feared pursuit since the moment 
 of his arrival. She had not asked him vvhere he 
 had been during the time of his absence, but she 
 did not doubt that he had returned to the club- 
 house to account there, in some manner, for her 
 absence. Now, as she hastened to comply with his 
 wish, it occurred to her that possibly he had been 
 unable to account satisfactorily for her disappear-
 
 THE COURAGE OF LADY KATE 303 
 
 ance, that he had been obliged to disappear also, 
 and that he believed he had been pursued. 
 
 She heard him giving rapid instructions to the 
 two men and the woman who had served him 
 there, but he spoke in Spanish, a language that 
 she did not understand. Then she was ready. Out- 
 side the darkness seemed to her intense, coming, as 
 she had done, from the lighted room. 
 
 She stumbled and he put out a hand and took 
 her by the wrists. 
 
 "I told you that I would not touch you yet," 
 he said. "But I must lead you, or you will go 
 astray in the darkness and fall." 
 
 She made no reply. They passed across the yard 
 and through the gateway and into the blackness of 
 the tree-bordered roadway. Then on with rapid 
 steps, for Keese seemed intent upon making speed 
 and therefore increased it as they advanced until 
 Katherine panted with the exertion. How long she 
 walked in that manner, how far they went while 
 he grasped her by the wrist, Katherine did not 
 know; but they came to a stop suddenly and she 
 realized that they were actually beside the car. 
 
 "Betty!" she called out, startled in spite of her 
 courage, lest her friend should not be waiting there 
 after all. 
 
 But the reply came instantly. 
 
 "Here, Kittie," Betty called back from the dark- 
 ness; and Katherine drew a swift breath of relief. 
 
 "We will have no talking now. Save that until 
 later," Keese ordered. 
 
 Then the head-lights of the car were switched
 
 304 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 on and by the refraction from them Katherine 
 could see that Betty was perched in the rumble seat, 
 and that a man the chauffeur, she decided stood 
 beside the car, waiting. She was assisted into one 
 of the remaining two seats. Keese sprang into the 
 other one, under the steering wheel. The engine 
 was humming. The chauffeur seated himself at the 
 side of the car, at Katherine's feet. The next mo- 
 ment they were plunging forward through the night 
 at a rate of speed that was foolhardy under the 
 circumstances, but against which Katherine made 
 no protest. 
 
 Twice during the first few minutes she half 
 turned in her seat to speak to Betty, but each time 
 Benton Keese interrupted her with savage earnest- 
 ness by saying : 
 
 "If you don't want me to ditch the car, sit tight 
 and keep still." The last time he added : 
 
 "You will have plenty of opportunity to talk 
 later." 
 
 Nevertheless after that second effort Betty man- 
 aged to bend forward and to say into Katherine's 
 ear: 
 
 "Benton forced me to come with him, dear; but 
 I am glad he did so. Be brave, Kittie, for I won't 
 let him harm you." 
 
 Betty meant, too, to keep her word if she could.
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 IN PURSUIT OF THE GRAY CAR 
 
 Highways in that part of Connecticut which is 
 among the hills just back of the Norwalks make 
 many twists and curves. It is a locality of rocks 
 and boulders, of hills and dales and streams and 
 so the flashes from the powerful headlights of Ben- 
 ton Keese's car shot in almost every conceivable 
 direction at one time and another as they plunged 
 forward through the darkness. 
 
 If you should, with a scrap of paper and a pen- 
 cil, make a deeply concave loop nearly like a wide 
 and round-bottomed letter V it would be a fairly 
 good plan of the road that Benton Keese's car 
 followed from the red schoolhcuse when Betty 
 first became a passenger upon it. The car stopped 
 at the bottom of the loop. There, Keese got down 
 and made the rest of his way to the Ghost house, 
 on foot nearly straight ahead; and to that point 
 Keese returned later with Katherine, and the car 
 went onward, along the left side of the loop which 
 ultimately emerged again upon another traveled 
 highway as broad and wide and well kept as that 
 one which passes in front of the red schoolhouse. 
 
 Rushton, seated beside black Julius, endeavored 
 to approximate the probable time that Keese had 
 been gone from the schoolhouse when they dis- 
 covered his escape; and he did it cleverly, as it 
 
 305
 
 306 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 turned out. He figured that the escape could not 
 have been made as it was made or would not have 
 been unless the man who had assisted the prisoner 
 had also been a witness to his capture and had gone 
 into the schoolhouse by the rear door as Rushton 
 and Banta came out of it at the front. 
 
 Rushton and his companion had remained seated 
 on the schoolhouse steps, talking, a long time be- 
 fore the darkness settled so densely that they 
 thought it wise to go forward to the roadside in 
 order not to miss the lights of Harvard's car when 
 it should appear. And so, taking it all together, 
 the ex-lieutenant believed that Keese had very 
 nearly an hour the start of them when the actual 
 chase began. What he did not know, and could 
 not estimate upon, was the time that Keese lost 
 while his car waited for him to go after Katherine. 
 Only Rushton did figure that Keese would be ob- 
 liged to make a stop somewhere, for Katherine was 
 not then with him, and hence she was temporarily 
 detained in the neighborhood, and Keese was un- 
 doubtedly going after her. Rushton recalled some- 
 thing of the character of Lady Kate, too, as he had 
 "known her in the days of police work, and he did 
 not for a moment imagine that she would not re- 
 sist with all her power a journey in Benton Keese's 
 car, against her will. Thus he figured on delay. 
 
 He reasoned, silently of course, that the hour, 
 and possibly a trifle more, would be very greatly 
 lessened : that Keese would not be more than half 
 an hour, and perhaps much less than that, in ad- 
 vance of them.
 
 IN PURSUIT OF THE GRAY CAR 307 
 
 It was a sharp bend in the road where Keese's 
 car had waited for him. Julius was compelled to 
 slow down considerably; and as they were making 
 it Rushton called out to him to stop. With his 
 flash-light he studied the roadway, which was at 
 a depression there ; and as a consequence was sandy, 
 made so by rainy intervals, when the water had 
 washed miniature gutters in the ancient roadbed. 
 Rushton was out of the car only a few moments. 
 When he returned to it and had directed Julius to 
 drive on, he turned in his seat and said : 
 
 "He stopped back there. He went somewhere 
 down that branch in the road. He went on foot, 
 because his car couldn't get through. But he did 
 bring Lady Kate back with him. She is a passen- 
 ger in his car now. Anyhow, he brought a woman 
 back with him, and it must have been her. I found 
 her tracks in the sand." 
 
 They shot onward after that. Several times as 
 they advanced Rushton could see flashes of light 
 far ahead of them that reached like fingers across 
 the perspective, and he knew that they were made 
 by the lights of another car. He hoped it was the 
 car they were pursuing. It was not possible to 
 guess the destination toward which Keese was mak- 
 ing, only the general direction nor did Rushton 
 lose that when they ran out upon the highway. He 
 stopped Julius again, and got down to make further 
 studies with the aid of his flash-light. 
 
 "He is going to New York, all right," he an- 
 nounced as he reentered the car. "Hit it up, Julius 
 only be careful not to hit anything else."
 
 808 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 Bingham Harvard, in the rear, seated beside 
 Clancy, was reminded, in spite of the strain upon 
 him, of another wild ride he had once taken with 
 Julius as chauffeur, in the days when he was called 
 "The Night Wind," and at a time when he was 
 forced to establish an alibi for himself in order to 
 protect Lady Kate. That was long before she be- 
 came his bride, or he had supposed she ever 
 would be.* 
 
 Harvard was strangely silent during the chase 
 after Keese's car. At times when Tom Clancy at- 
 tempted conversation or offered suggestions Har- 
 vard merely nodded; and even his best friend, as 
 Clancy surely was, would have been amazed to 
 know of the tempest that was raging within him. 
 
 For the "Night Wind," in all that the name im- 
 plied, was aroused. All of the abnormal, unnat- 
 ural strength that was bound within his muscles 
 strained at the leashes of his self-control, eager to 
 be free, to rend, and break, and destroy; for Bing- 
 ham Harvard kept silent and motionless only be- 
 cause he was struggling inwardly for that self-con- 
 trol which he knew he must retain when they should 
 catch up with Keese. He knew that if it failed him 
 then Keese would be broken and torn apart and 
 crushed and killed. Only those men who have to 
 fight against themselves can appreciate the magni- 
 tude of that struggle of Harvard's that had been 
 going on since the first moment of suspicion against 
 Keese concerning what really had happened. 
 
 The outcome of the pursuit of Keese for the 
 
 *See "Alias the Night Wind."
 
 IN PURSUIT OF THE GRAY CAR 309 
 
 rescue of Lady Kate, Harvard never once doubted ; 
 but it did not lessen by one whit or jot or tittle the 
 magnitude of the offense of the attempt. 
 
 They ran into Stamford and through it, pausing 
 for a moment only to make inquiries for a gray 
 roadster that had preceded them. 
 
 "Yes," a uniformed policeman told them, "a gray 
 car, with a woman in the rumble seat and another 
 beside the driver and a second man seated on the 
 floor of the car, passed through twenty minutes ago." 
 
 The next definite information was received at the 
 foot of the hill, passing through Rye. The gray car, 
 again as graphically described, had gone past not 
 more than fifteen minutes ahead of them. They 
 fairly flew through Harrison and on into the border 
 of Mamaroneck and down the hill which dips to- 
 ward the railway station of the latter place, and 
 stopped at the corner where the road branches if one 
 wishes to take the short cut to Orient Point. 
 
 A group had collected there. A disabled taxicab, 
 with one tire exploded and the wheel of it twisted 
 out of shape, made the central figure of the gath- 
 ering, and beside it a young woman was talking 
 excitedly while she pointed straight ahead toward 
 the station. Harvard and Rushton leaped from 
 their car at the same instant, for the young woman 
 was Betty Keese, and the man she addressed in 
 such evident excitement was Anderson Van Cleve. 
 
 Close beside him Banta stood listening. Near 
 by, white and frightened, was another man, cring- 
 ing and cowering in the grasp of a big Mamaroneck 
 policeman. The wrecked taxi was the one in which
 
 Van Cleve and Banta had been returning to the city. 
 
 Harvard, with the strength of a dozen men, threw 
 the members of that group aside like straws and 
 confronted the three persons he had recognized. 
 
 "Where is the gray car? Where is Katherine?" 
 he demanded. 
 
 "There! They went straight on!" Betty cried 
 out excitedly. "The taxi turned in front of us 
 when we were trying to pass it That man, Ben's 
 chauffeur, was thrown off. I jumped. I was in 
 the rumble. I saw Katherine try to jump out, but 
 Ben held her back." 
 
 Harvard and Rushton turned and leaped into 
 Harvard's car again. Clancy picked up Betty in 
 his arms and put her into it after them. Then he 
 clung to the door and clambered in after the car 
 had started ahead. Van Cleve shouted after them : 
 
 "We'll get another car and follow." Banta called 
 out : "Try the White Plains road !" 
 
 "Keep straight ahead, Julius," Rushton ordered. 
 "That cop back there told me that the gray car 
 was limping. I think they've got a puncture." 
 
 "Tell me of Katherine," Harvard demanded of 
 Betty in a tone that was ominous in its enforced 
 gentleness. 
 
 "She is not hurt at all, Mr. Harvard!" Betty 
 cried out in reply. "Benton is trying to carry her 
 off, away from you. He told me last Monday that 
 he intended to do it. He is mad, crazy, beside 
 himself and desperate. 
 
 "I should have told you. I should " 
 
 "Yes, you should have told me," Harvard replied.
 
 CHAPTER XLI 
 
 THE NIGHT WIND ? S PROMISE 
 
 The gray car had been limping, as the officer told 
 Rushton. Moreover, Keese discovered soon after 
 he ran into the taxi that the task of driving it and 
 at the same time keeping a tight grasp upon Kath- 
 erine's arm, so that she would not jump, was an ex- 
 tremely difficult one. For Katherine had made the 
 attempt, as Betty said; and she repeated it before 
 they had gone a dozen rods farther. When they 
 flew past the railway station she tried it again, and 
 Keese, in holding her, lost his control of the steer- 
 ing-wheel for the fraction of an instant, so that they 
 swerved dangerously near to a big limousine they 
 were passing, and she called out, too, to several men 
 who stood on the platform of the station as they 
 passed. 
 
 They flew across the main street of Mamaroneck, 
 narrowly missing a passing trolley car, and on again 
 past the poor huts of houses that were beyond it, 
 and then into the darker road again. But one of 
 the tires had collapsed, and Keese was wise enough 
 to know that the time would be short after that 
 before he was overtaken. He kept on as he was 
 going for another half-mile, then turned into the 
 road that leads toward the Sound; and there pres- 
 ently his headlights picked up an open gateway 
 311
 
 312 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 into a lane beside an old and deserted brown frame 
 house that was doorless and windowless and but 
 little better than a ruin. Keese guided the gray car 
 into that lane. 
 
 It was a desperate chance ; but there was no other 
 way, and there was the possibility that the pursuing 
 car might pass on. He guided the roadster with 
 difficulty, for it was necessary still to cling to his 
 captive. But he succeeded in taking it around be- 
 hind the house, nevertheless; and there he came 
 to a stop. 
 
 Katherine again tried to leap out, but he caught 
 her and held her. She called aloud with all her 
 voice-power, and he clapped one hand over her lips 
 and held it there. Then she raised her right hand 
 and, with the palm open, struck him squarely in the 
 face. The blow maddened him who was already 
 mad. He seized her, snarling an imprecation that 
 even he would not have used in her presence had 
 he not been utterly crazed. He lifted her from the 
 car. He crushed her against him so that she could 
 not struggle. He ran with her up the rickety steps of 
 the still more unsteady back stoop of the old house. 
 
 Katherine tried to struggle out of his grasp, but 
 he held her firmly. But she could, and she did, call 
 out for help and he stopped at the top of the steps, 
 turning his face to hers, with a savage gleam in his 
 eyes and a snarling expression of rage upon his lips. 
 He raised his hand as if to strike her, to compel her 
 silence. Perhaps he intended it only as a threat; 
 perhaps he did intend to deliver the blow. But that 
 will never be known.
 
 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 313 
 
 The shaky, uncertain footing of the old stoop 
 gave way beneath them, incapable as it was of sup- 
 porting their double weight. A crash, a rending of 
 boards, a cloud of pungent dust from rotting wood, 
 assailed them as they fell through the ruin of the 
 old stoop. It was a short fall, and Katherine was 
 uppermost when they struck, and the litter of 
 debris that cluttered down upon them spared her, 
 mercifully. 
 
 Partly dazed, but still intent upon making her 
 escape from the madman and by then she was 
 wholly convinced that he was indeed mad she 
 sprang up and away from him instantly, nor 
 turned to look backward as she sped away across 
 the broken boards and through the opening where 
 the short flight of steps had been but a moment 
 before. Convinced that Keese would pursue her, 
 she ran on swiftly down the lane to the ruined gate, 
 past it into the roadway and straight into the 
 blinding glare of an approaching car. 
 
 Then things happened swiftly. There was a 
 grinding and crunching of brakes. Three men and 
 a woman sprang from the car and ran toward 
 her. She straightened and stood white and pale, but 
 smiling bravely notwithstanding. And then Bing- 
 ham Harvard's arms encircled her, and held her, 
 and nearly crushed her. 
 
 Rushton waited to see only that much; then he 
 ran on past them, toward the lane and into it, flash- 
 ing his light ahead of him as he ran. 
 
 Harvard slowly released his wife from that close 
 embrace. Then he lifted her as if she had been a
 
 314 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 feather and carried her to the car. He put her in- 
 side and turned away, but Katherine reached out a 
 detaining hand and grasped his sleeve. 
 
 "Wait, Bingham," she said softly. "Where are 
 you going?" 
 
 "There," he replied with a quick jerk of his 
 head. "After him." 
 
 "Please don't," she pleaded. 
 
 "I must," he said. "I must." 
 
 "Then promise me promise me, dear, that you 
 will control yourself; that you will not hurt him. 
 Promise me, dear." 
 
 "I cannot," he said. 
 
 "I am not hurt, Bingham. I am safe. I am no 
 worse for this experience. And, dear, he is Betty's 
 brother and he is mad, quite mad. Promise me, 
 dear." 
 
 Harvard was silent an instant, struggling might- 
 ily with himself. Then he looked into the eyes of 
 his wife, tried to smile, and replied simply: 
 
 "I promise, sweetheart."
 
 CHAPTER XLII 
 
 SUPPLYING THE PROOFS 
 
 Harvard found Rushton standing with folded 
 arms in the midst of the ruin of the old stoop, look- 
 ing down upon a prostrate and motionless figure of 
 a man that had been Benton Keese. For Benton 
 Keese, otherwise Holbrook Chilton, was dead when 
 Rushton got to him. He had been dead when 
 Katherine sprang away from him and fled down 
 the lane toward the road. Death had followed in- 
 stantly upon his fall. A large and rusted wire nail 
 with the point of it uppermost, part and parcel 
 with the ruin he had wrought, fate fully awaited 
 him when he fell upon his back beneath Katherine, 
 whom he had still been holding tightly clasped in his 
 arms. And by the force of his own weight, and 
 hers, it had gone into his head almost its entire 
 length, just at the base of the skull. The conse- 
 quence had been instantaneous. 
 
 Between them, Harvard and Rushton lifted the 
 still form and bore it outside; and for a moment 
 after that Harvard stood quite still beside all that 
 remained of the once handsome, if erring, Benton 
 Keese. Rushton came up beside him and touched 
 him on the arm. 
 
 "Come away," he said gently. "We must tell the 
 others, Mr. Harvard." 
 
 315
 
 816 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 "Shall I tell you of what I was thinking just 
 then, Rushton?" Harvard asked soberly. 
 
 "Yes, please." 
 
 "I was thanking God, in my heart, that / didn't 
 do that; for, as He has judged him, and will one day 
 judge me, I would have done it but for my prom- 
 ise to my wife. And, God only knows, I might not 
 have had the strength to keep that promise." 
 
 "Well," Rushton muttered as he turned away, 
 "if you had done it, Mr. Harvard, I'd have been 
 willin' to help, some." 
 
 "Wait," Harvard ordered suddenly. "I had for- 
 gotten Betty. Stay here, Rushton. / will tell his 
 sister. She must not see " 
 
 He stopped as he was turning. Betty, with Tom 
 Clancy beside her, was there. She did not speak. 
 She uttered no sound as she went forward and 
 bent over the still form of her brother. But, after 
 a moment, she got down upon her knees beside 
 him and closed down his eyelids. Then she kissed 
 the smooth, wide forehead; and then she rose up 
 and turned about and went straight into the out- 
 stretched arms of Tom Clancy. And the sobs that 
 she could no longer control were muffled and pres- 
 ently stilled in his embrace. 
 
 Mr. Van Cleve and Banta arrived on the scene 
 in a hired car a few moments later; and then but 
 the conventional details that followed need not be 
 described. 
 
 The express package that Rushton had been ex- 
 pecting did not arrive until the middle of the week
 
 SUPPLYING THE PROOFS 317 
 
 that followed. It had been greatly delayed in tran- 
 sit, and 
 
 But Fate had so willed that the contents of it 
 should not be needed. Nevertheless, during the 
 afternoon of the day that followed upon its receipt, 
 Rodney Rushton made his appearance at the Cen- 
 tropolis bank and passed through it to the office 
 of the president. Harvard received him with a 
 cordial smile and handshake, and then conducted 
 him into the directors' room where, seated around 
 the table, were all of the members of that former 
 conference that had been held there, save only Lady 
 Kate. 
 
 She was not present. She had gone to Ken- 
 tucky with Betty to help her, and to support her 
 friend through the last sad duties that could be 
 performed for Benton Keese. It was understood 
 that Betty was to return with her and remain with 
 her until the period of mourning was past and she 
 could put Tom Clancy's ring on her finger for all 
 time. 
 
 Inside of the directors' room of the bank behind 
 closed doors Rushton addressed those present in 
 his characteristic style, after previously placing upon 
 the table before him some sheets of paper which 
 bore strange and interesting marks upon them. 
 
 "I asked you to meet me here this afternoon," 
 he said, "because this case ain't exactly closed and 
 put away in the archives until we are all satisfied 
 with the positive proof of the fact that Benton 
 Keese was Holbrook Chilton. Likewise, to an- 
 nounce in this official manner to all of you that
 
 818 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 all of the dough that he got away with so slick, 
 except a little over six thousand dollars which he 
 spent, has been recovered. Banta an' me found 
 most of it in a safe deposit compartment that he 
 had hired as Keese; the rest of it was on his per- 
 son when he was killed and in his rooms at the 
 Mammoth. Also in that same safe deposit we 
 found the two photographs that he took of himself 
 in Mexico as Chilton and sent to Mr. Harvard 
 for Mr. Van Cleve's pictures. 
 
 "And now, these." He bent forward and 
 touched the papers on the table in front of him. 
 "That evenftig when Keese was lying dead out 
 there this side of Mamaroneck, while I was keep- 
 ing watch while the others were makin' arrange- 
 ments to bring him away, I managed to take some 
 prints of his fingers and thumbs, unbeknown to the 
 rest of the bunch. These, here, are them. 
 
 "And these, here, are the ones that a chap named 
 Corona sent to me from the City of Mexico. I have 
 had both sets down at headquarters for a private 
 examination by the expert. Banta and the chief, 
 here, was with me; and so, gentlemen, I wish to 
 state to you that the finger and thumb prints of 
 Chilton, found in Mexico, and the ones I made of 
 Benton Keese a few moments after he was killed, 
 are of the same man, and there isn't any doubt of it. 
 And that is about all, I guess." 
 
 After the others had gone from the bank, Rush- 
 ton lingered behind with the man he had learned 
 to love with all the intensity with which he had
 
 SUPPLYING THE PROOFS 319 
 
 once hated him; and Harvard, leaning back in his 
 chair with a smile on his face, nodded his head 
 and said : 
 
 "You need not ask the question that is on your 
 mind, Rushton. I know what it is, and I will reply 
 to it. You have made good." 
 
 "That's what I wanted to ask you, all right, all 
 right," Rushton replied with feeling. "I can't tell 
 you how much I thank " 
 
 "Don't try, Rushton. You do tell me, in acts that 
 are better than words, a hundred times a day 
 ever since you have been my confidential man here 
 in the "bank. But that leads me to something that 
 I want to say, Rushton." 
 
 "Well, sir?" 
 
 "There are better things for you than remaining 
 here with me on a salary and being confined to the 
 mere work of this bank. You should branch out, 
 as Redhead did once. And you could still do this 
 work for me." 
 
 "I have thought that I would like to do that, Mr. 
 Harvard; but, you see " he hesitated. 
 
 "Well? What is it?" 
 
 "I'm still a convict on parole." 
 
 "Are you? Take a look at this paper and see if 
 you are"; and Harvard took a document from 
 one of his pockets and gave it to Rushton. The 
 latter accepted it, looked upon it, and his eyes 
 bulged. Then tears of joy rushed unbidden into 
 them. 
 
 "God!" he said, then. "Thank God! And you!
 
 320 THE NIGHT WIND'S PROMISE 
 
 Oh, I am the happiest guy that ever breathed! 
 
 I'm I'm " 
 
 Words failed him. He dropped upon a chair and 
 buried his face in his hands. Harvard turned, to 
 his desk and busied himself with some papers. It 
 was a full pardon, signed by the governor of the 
 state, that Bingham Harvard, once alias "The Night 
 Wind," had given to former Lieutenant Rodney 
 Rushton. 
 
 Just one word more. 
 
 Betty Keese was married to Tom Clancy at the 
 end of the year. And that fact, so far as this 
 story is concerned, brings us to 
 
 THE END
 
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