Final Proof Part 26

"You must go into the street, and when I release the man in the cellar, you must track him. I will go to the other place, and we will see what happens when the men meet. We will both be there to see the fun."

An hour later, Mr. Barnes was skilfully d.o.g.g.i.ng a sneaking Mexican, who walked rapidly through one of the lowest streets on the East Side, until finally he dodged into a blind alley, and before the detective could make sure which of the many doors had allowed him ingress he had disappeared. A moment later a low whistle attracted his attention, and across in a doorway he saw a figure which beckoned to him. He went over and found Mr. Mitchel.

"Palma is here. I have seen him. You see I was right. This is the place of appointment, and the cutthroat has come here straight. Hus.h.!.+ What was that?"

There was a shriek, followed by another, and then silence.

"Let us go up," said Mr. Barnes. "Do you know which door?"

"Yes; follow me."

Mr. Mitchel started across, but, just as they reached the door, footsteps were heard rapidly descending the stairs. Both men stood aside and waited. A minute later a cloaked figure bounded out, only to be gripped instantly by those in hiding. It was Palma, and he fought like a demon, but the long, powerful arms of Mr. Barnes encircled him, and, with a hug that would have made a bear envious, the scoundrel was soon subdued. Mr. Barnes then manacled him, while Mr. Mitchel ascended the stairs to see about the other man. He lay sprawling on the floor, face downward, stabbed in the heart.

V

A SINGULAR ABDUCTION

Mr. Barnes was alone in his sanctum when an elderly gentleman of cultured manners was ushered in. The visitor sank into a seat and began his appeal at once.

"Oh, Mr. Barnes," said he, "I am in great distress. I hardly dared to hope that a.s.sistance was possible until I met my friend, Mr. Leroy Mitchel. You know him?" Mr. Barnes a.s.sented with a smile. "Well,"

continued the old gentleman, "Mr. Mitchel said that you could surely a.s.sist me."

"Certainly. I will do all that is in my power," said the detective.

"You are very kind. I hope you can aid me. But let me tell you the story. I am Richard Gedney, the broker. Perhaps you have heard the name?" Mr. Barnes nodded. "I thought so. 'Old d.i.c.k,' they call me on the street, and sometimes 'Old Nick,' but that is only their joke. I do not believe they really dislike me, though I have grown rich. I have never cheated any one, nor wronged a friend in my life. But that is immaterial, except that it makes it hard to understand how any one could have done me the great injury of stealing my daughter."

"Stealing your daughter?" interrupted the detective. "Abduction?"

"Abduction I suppose is your technical term. I call it plain stealing.

To take a girl of fourteen away from her father's home is stealing, plain and simple."

"When did this occur?"

"Two days ago. Tuesday morning we missed her, though she may have been taken in the night. She was slightly ill on Monday evening, and her maid sent for our doctor, who ordered her to be put to bed and kept there.

Next morning, that is, Tuesday, he called early, as he was going out on his rounds. He was admitted by the butler and went straight up to her room. He came down a few minutes later, rang the door-bell to call a servant, and reported that the child was not in her room. He left word that she must be put back to bed and that he would return in an hour.

The butler gave the message to her maid, who became alarmed, as she supposed her mistress to be in bed. A search was begun, but the child had vanished."

"How is it, Mr. Gedney, that the doctor did not speak to you personally instead of to the servant?"

"I cannot too much condemn myself. You see, I am an old whist player, and the temptation to play made me linger so late with some friends on Monday night that I preferred to remain in Newark where I was, and so did not reach home till ten o'clock Tuesday morning. By that time the misfortune had occurred."

"Have you made no discoveries as to what has become of her?"

"None. We have sent to all of our friends in the vain hope that she might have arisen early and gone out, but no one has seen her. She has disappeared as thoroughly as though she had been swallowed by an earthquake. Here, however, is a letter which reached me this morning. I cannot tell whether there is anything in it, or whether it is merely a cruel joke perpetrated by some crank who has heard of my loss." He handed the letter to the detective, who read as follows:

"Your daughter is safe if you are sensible. If you want her back all you have to do is to state your figures. Make them high enough, and she'll be with you. Put a 'Personal' in the _Herald_ for D. M., and I will answer."

"Mr. Gedney," said Mr. Barnes, "I am afraid this is a serious case. What has been done has been so thoroughly well accomplished that I believe we have no fool to deal with. His is a master hand. We must begin our work at once. I will take this up personally. Come, we must go out."

They proceeded first to the _Herald_ uptown office, and Mr. Barnes inserted the following advertis.e.m.e.nt:

"D. M. Communicate at once, stating lowest terms. GEDNEY."

"Now we will go to your home, Mr. Gedney," said Mr. Barnes, and thither they went.

Seating himself in a comfortable leather chair in the library, Mr.

Barnes asked that the butler should be called. The man entered the room, and it was apparent at once that here was a good servant of the English type.

"Moulton," began Mr. Barnes, "I am a detective. I am going to find out where your young mistress has been taken."

"I hope so, sir," said the butler.

"Very well," said the detective. "Now answer a few questions explicitly, and you may give me great a.s.sistance. On Tuesday morning you admitted the doctor. At what time was it?"

"It was about eight o'clock, sir. We had just taken our seats at breakfast in the servants' hall, when the bell rang. That is how I know the hour. We are regular about meals in this house. We eat at eight and the master at nine."

"What happened when you admitted the doctor?"

"He asked for Miss Nora, and I told him she was not down yet. He said he supposed he could go up, and I said I supposed so, and he went."

"What did you do next?"

"I went back to my breakfast."

"Did you tell the maid that the doctor had called?"

"Not just then, sir, for she had not come into the breakfast-room."

"When did you tell her?"

"After I saw the doctor the second time. I heard the door-bell again and went up, when, to my surprise, there was the doctor. He said he rang because he did not know how else to call me. Then he said that Miss Nora had left her room, which was against the orders he gave the night before, and that I was to tell the maid to have her back to bed, and he would call again. I went back to the breakfast-room. This time the maid was there, and frightened she was when I gave her the message."

"How long was it after you admitted the doctor the first time, when you answered his second ring?"

"I should think five minutes, sir; though it might have been ten."

"And during this five or ten minutes the maid was not in the breakfast-room?"

"No, sir."

"Send her to me." The butler left the room, and, whilst waiting for the maid, Mr. Barnes addressed Mr. Gedney.

"Mr. Gedney," said he, "you have not told me the name of the doctor."