Chapter 39

Jack stared at his adversary open-mouthed. He required an appreciable time to adjust himself to the situation. His face turned grim—but he could see the joke on himself too.

"No wonder you were on to every move I made when I went to you for my disguises!"

"Humorous situation, wasn't it?" said Evers mockingly.

"Was it accident?" demanded Jack.

"Oh, no! I willed you to come to me!"

Jack recollected the boy who had first given him Evers' name.

By this time Miriam had recovered her self-possession. She came out of her corner. Addressing the detective sergeant, she said haughtily: "What is the meaning of this outrage? This"—pointing to Bobo—"is Mr. John Farrow Norman, and I am Mrs. Norman. The gentleman you have your hand on is my uncle, George Culbreth. You shall pay dearly for this!"

She carried conviction. The two detectives looked uneasy. But Jack's amused smile reassured them a little.

"This guy was trying to beat it," the sergeant said.

"I suppose he was going for assistance," said Miriam quickly.

"Well, what did you shoot for?"

"I shot as I would shoot at any intruder into my rooms. Take your hands off that gentleman! I demand an explanation!"

Evers was staring at the ceiling with his head cocked quizzically. He seemed the least concerned person in the room.

The sergeant nodded towards Jack. "We're under his orders, Miss. You'll have to ask him."

"Oh, I know him!" she cried. "A discharged servant of my husband's! He's capable of laying any charge out of spite! You'd better be careful how you believe him!" She whirled on Kate. "And this woman! She let him in! Another unfaithful servant! A nice thing it is when people like us are at the mercy of their servants!"

"Oh, dry up, my dear!" said Evers in a weary voice. "You mean well, but the game is up!"

But Miriam had acquired too much momentum to be stopped right away. "I demand that the management be sent for!" she cried.

"It is not necessary," said Jack. He had caught sight of Mr. Delamare entering from the corridor. "Here is some one who will identify me. Tell her first, who this is."

"Mr. Walter Delamare," said the sergeant with unction.

Miriam, seeing the smile of confidence exchanged by Delamare and Jack, felt the ground slipping from under her feet. Her face blanched. "Well, anyway I am Mrs. Norman," she cried. "Nothing can change that!"

"Tell them all who I am, please," said Jack.

Delamare put a hand on Jack's shoulder. "This is my good friend, Jack Norman," he said. "The late Silas Gyde's sole heir."

Evers' face betrayed no change. Perhaps his intuition had warned him of what was coming. Not so Miriam. A queer gasping cry escaped her.

"Then who—who is this?" she stammered, pointing to Bobo. "And who am I?"

"I don't know the young man's right name. Mr. Norman engaged him to impersonate him, in order to free his hands while he was engaged in running down the murderers of Silas Gyde."

Miriam's proud figure sagged. No further sound escaped her. All the color left her face. She looked old and haggard. Kate thought she was about to fall, and made a step towards her. Miriam stiffened with hate, and Kate fell back.

"What shall we do with this man?" asked the sergeant.

"Take him to headquarters," said Jack. "Watch him well. You've got the cleverest crook in America there."

"Much obliged for the compliment," said Evers coolly. "May I speak to you a moment, alone, before they take me?"

"No, Jack, no!" Kate cried involuntarily.

Jack silenced her with a smile. "Search him for weapons," he said.

The detectives frisked their captive efficaciously. Nothing more dangerous than a pen-knife was revealed.

"Go into the front room," Jack said to Evers. "No use trying a window, because there are four more men in the street." He motioned to the detectives to remain at the doors. He followed Evers.

In the middle of the gaudy blue salon Evers turned with his queer smile. "I suppose you don't want to shake hands with me."

Jack was nonplussed. He felt that he had no business to be liking the man and yet—he did. "One must draw the line somewhere," he muttered. "After all you murdered my benefactor."

Evers was not in the least put out. "Oh, come! Looking at it from a disinterested point of view, old Silas Gyde was not much of a loss to the community, was he? And he wasn't your benefactor until I put him out of the way."

"I can't argue that with you," said Jack stiffly. "Murder is murder!"

"Well, let it pass," said Evers. "That isn't what I wanted to talk to you about. It's my old lady out there. I swear to you on my honor—such as it is, that she never knew what I was up to. She thought it was smuggling, and no woman considers smuggling a crime, you know. She's sixty-three years old and has a heart complaint. Let her go."

"Why, I'll do what I can," said Jack, more and more uncomfortable. "But I can't tell what the trial may bring out."

"There won't be any trial," said Evers quietly.

"What——! You mean——?"

Evers merely smiled.

Jack half turned as if to call for help.

"Wait!" said Evers sharply. "Didn't I give you a good run for your money?" he went on with a genuine note of appeal. "And you've won. Can't you afford to be generous? Don't interfere. Let me pay my forfeit in my own way. The trouble with me was, I couldn't endure the tedium of a respectable life. But I am no quitter. I went into this with my eyes open, knowing the penalty. I was prepared to pay it at any moment."

"I won't interfere," said Jack in a low tone.

"Thanks. One thing more." He held out two keys and a scrap of paper. "These keys are for my box in the Windsor Safe Deposit Vaults. Number and password are written on the paper. Everything I own is in the box. My wife is provided for with an annuity. There are securities to the amount of—Oh, I don't know, half a million, maybe. You can't return it because the records of whom I obtained it are burned. But take it and do some good act. Build a home for indigent millionaires—or anything you like."

In spite of himself Jack had to smile.

"Come on now. Hand me back to the bulls."

In the adjoining room Evers was handcuffed and marched out between two detectives. The old lady picked up her hat and coat, and silently followed them.

The sergeant nodded towards Miriam. "How about her?"

Jack hung in indecision.

"She tried to plug you, didn't she?"

"Oh, I don't mind a little thing like that."

The worthy sergeant looked a trifle scandalized at the jest.

Bobo, who had sat in a daze throughout, lifted a drawn face. "Jack, let her go, please!" he murmured huskily.

Jack looked at Kate, and she nodded imperceptibly.

"Only the one prisoner, sergeant!" said Jack. "I haven't evidence enough against this one."

Delamare, shaking Jack's hand, went with the sergeant, and the two young couples were left alone. An awkward silence fell on them. Jack was afraid to say anything for fear of seeming to triumph over them. Kate signaled to him that the best thing for them to do was to go.

"Wait a minute," said Jack. He turned to the other man with a humorous light in his eye. "Bobo, you and I have been partners in a hazardous enterprise. I can't say exactly that you have always stood by me, but there were extenuating circumstances. And I feel a certain responsibility in introducing you to a life of luxury. So I'm going to establish a trust fund that will pay you twenty-five thousand a year. With care, you and Miriam ought to be able to live on that." He turned to the girl. "Will you stick to him, Miriam? You might do worse. He loves you. It's the real thing—and that's not too common in this wicked world."

Bobo got up. "Miriam!" he said imploringly. He took her hand. She did not pull it away.

"Now, come on, Kate!" said Jack briskly. "Never mind any things!"

He led her down the corridor to Silas Gyde's old rooms. "We'll go through the vault into your house," he said. "The hotel lobby will be seething with excitement by now."

"I wonder if you did right—about Bobo and Miriam, I mean. She isn't likely to do him much good."

"Such as she is, he'd rather have her than anything else in the world."

In Kate's house they paused.

"What are we going to do now?" she asked.

"First I'm going to kiss you," he said, suiting the action to the word. "Then you're going to put on your prettiest dress and hat and we're going down to the City Hall to get a license. Then we'll be married by the first person that's looking for the job. Then we'll take a train for Charleston where the Columbian is still awaiting orders, and we'll sail away under the tropical moon with a whole ocean liner to our two selves!"

"But—but——!"

"But me no buts!"

"But you'll have to be here for the trial, I suppose."

"There won't be any trial," said Jack gravely. "Harmon Evers had a vial of cyanide in his vest pocket."

"Oh!" cried Kate. "He must be stopped!"

"I promised not to."

"But is it right to let him cheat the law?"

"He may cheat the law, but not justice! The state will be saved the expense of a trial, and the public a demoralizing newspaper sensation."


THE END