Chapter Five
_Macklin's Library_
Robert Macklin, Pullman conductor, had risen to that eminent positionso early in life that the glamour of it had not yet passed away. Hewas large enough to have passed for a champion wrestler or a burlypugilist, and he was small enough to glory in the smallest details ofhis work. Having at the age of thirty, through a great deal of luckand a touch of accident, secured his place, he possessed, at least,sufficient dignity to fill it.
He was one of those rare men who carry their dignity with them pastthe doors of their homes. Robert Macklin's home, during the shortintervals when he was off the trains, was in a tiny apartment. It wasreally one not overly large room, with a little alcove adjoining; butRobert Macklin had seized the opportunity to hang a curtain acrossthe alcove, and, since it was large enough to contain a chair and abookshelf, he referred to it always as his "library."
He was this morning seated in his library, with his feet protrudingthrough the curtains and resting on the foot of his bed, when thedoorbell rang. He surveyed himself in his mirror before he answeredit. Having decided that, in his long dressing gown, he was imposingenough, he advanced to the door and slowly opened it.
He saw before him two sun-darkened men whose soft gray hats proclaimedthat they were newly come out of the West. The one was a fellow whoseface had been made stern by hard work and few pleasures in life. Theother was one who, apparently, had never worked at all. There wassomething about him that impressed Robert Macklin. He might be a youngWestern millionaire, for instance. Aside from his hat he was dressedwith elaborate care. He wore gray spats, and his clothes wereobviously well tailored, and his necktie was done in a bow. On thewhole he was a very cool, comfortable looking chap. The handkerchief,which protruded from his breast pocket and showed an edging of red,was a trifle noisy; and the soft gray hat was hardly in keeping, but,on the whole, he was a dashing-looking chap. The bagging trousersand the blunt-toed shoes of his companion were to Robert Macklin adistinct shock. He centered all of his attention instantly on theyounger of his two visitors.
"You're Mr. Macklin, I guess," said the handsome man.
"I am," said Macklin, and, stepping back from his door, he invitedthem in with a sweeping gesture.
There were only two chairs, but the younger of the strangersimmediately made himself comfortable on the bed.
"My name's Doone," he said, "and this is Mr. William Gregg. We thinkthat you have some information which we can use. Mind if we fire a fewquestions?"
"Certainly not," said Robert Macklin. At the same time he began to armhimself with caution. One could never tell.
"Matter of fact," went on Ronicky smoothly, lighting a tailor-madecigarette, while his companion rolled one of his own making, "we arelooking for a lady who was on one of your trains. We think you maypossibly remember her. Here's the picture."
And, as he passed the snapshot to the Pullman conductor, he went onwith the details of the date and the number of the train.
Robert Macklin in the meantime studied the picture carefully. He had akeen eye for faces, but when it came to pretty faces his memory was averitable lion. He had talked a few moments with this very girl, andshe had smiled at him. The memory made Robert Macklin's lips twitchjust a trifle, and Ronicky Doone saw it.
Presently the dignitary returned the picture and raised his head fromthought. "It is vaguely behind my mind, something about this lady," hesaid. "But I'm sorry to say, gentlemen, I really don't know you and--"
"Why, don't you know us!" broke in Bill Gregg. "Ain't my partner herejust introduced us?"
"Exactly," said Robert Macklin. And his opinion of the two sank a fullhundred points. Such grammar proclaimed a ruffian.
"You don't get his drift," Ronicky was explaining to his companion. "Iintroduced us, but he doesn't know who I am. We should have broughtalong a letter of introduction." He turned to Macklin. "I am mightysorry I didn't get one," he said.
It came to Macklin for the fraction of a second that he was beingmocked, but he instantly dismissed the foolish thought. Even the roughfellows must be able to recognize a man when they saw one.
"The point is," went on Ronicky gently, "that my friend is very eagerfor important reasons to see this lady, to find her. And he doesn'teven know her name." Here his careful grammar gave out with a crash."You can't beat a deal like that, eh, Macklin? If you can rememberanything about her, her name first, then, where she was bound, who waswith her, how tall she is, the color of her eyes, we'd be glad to knowanything you know. What can you do for us?"
Macklin cleared his throat thoughtfully. "Gentlemen," he said gravely,"if I knew the purpose for which you are seeking the lady I--"
"The purpose ain't to kidnap her, if that's your drift," said Ronicky."We ain't going to treat her wrong, partner. Out in our part ofthe land they don't do it. Just shake up your thoughts and see ifsomething about that girl doesn't pop right into your head."
Robert Macklin smiled and carefully shook his head. "It seems to beimpossible for me to remember a thing," he asserted.
"Not even the color of her eyes?" asked Ronicky, as he grinned. Hewent on more gravely: "I'm pretty dead sure that you do remembersomething about her."
There was just the shade of a threat in the voice of this slenderyoungster, and Robert Macklin had been an amateur pugilist of muchbrawn and a good deal of boxing skill. He cast a wary eye on Ronicky;one punch would settle that fellow. The man Gregg might be a hardernut to crack, but it would not take long to finish them both. RobertMacklin thrust his shoulders forward.
"Friends," he said gruffly, "I don't have much time off. This is myday for rest. I have to say good-by."
Ronicky Doone stood up with a yawn. "I thought so," he said to hiscompanion. "Mind the door, Gregg, and see that nobody steps in andbusts up my little party."
"What are you going to do?"
"Going to argue with this gent in a way he'll understand a pile betterthan the chatter we've been making so far." He stepped a long lightpace forward. "Macklin, you know what we want to find out. Will youtalk?"
A cloud of red gathered before the eyes of Macklin. It was impossiblethat he must believe his ears, and yet the words still rang there.
"Why, curse your little rat-face!" burst out Robert Macklin, and,stepping in, he leaned forward with a perfect straight left.
Certainly his long vacation from boxing had not ruined his eye orstiffened his muscles. With delight he felt all the big sinews abouthis shoulders come into play. Straight and true the big fist droveinto the face of the smaller man, but Robert Macklin found that he hadpunched a hole in thin air. It was as if the very wind of the blow hadbrushed the head of Ronicky Doone to one side, and at the same time heseemed to sway and stagger forward.
A hard lean fist struck Robert Macklin's body. As he gasped anddoubled up, clubbing his right fist to land the blow behind the earof Ronicky Doone, the latter bent back, stepped in and, rising on thetoes of both feet, whipped a perfect uppercut that, in ring parlance,rang the bell.
The result was that Robert Macklin, his mouth agape and his eyes dull,stood wobbling slowly from side to side.
"Here!" called Ronicky to his companion at the door. "Grab him on oneside, and I'll take the other. He's out on his feet. Get him to thatchair." With Gregg's assistance he dragged the bulk of the man there.Macklin was still stunned.
Presently the dull eyes cleared and filled immediately with horror.Big Robert Macklin sank limply back in the chair.
"I've no money," he said. "I swear I haven't a cent in the place. It'sin the bank, but if a check will--"
"We don't want your money this trip," said Ronicky. "We want talk,Macklin. A lot of talk and a lot of true talk. Understand? It's aboutthat girl. I saw you grin when you saw the picture; you remember herwell enough. Now start talking, and remember this, if you lie, I'llcome back here and find out and use this on you."
The eyes of Robert Macklin started from his head, as his gazeconcentrated on the black muzzle of the gun. He mo
istened his whitelips and managed to gasp: "Everything I know, of course. Ill tell youeverything, word for word. She--she--her name I mean--"
"You're doing fine," said Ronicky. "Keep it up, and you keep away,Bill. When you come at him with that hungry look he thinks you'regoing to eat him up. Fire away, Macklin."
"What first?"
"What's she look like?"
"Soft brown hair, blue eyes, her mouth--"
"Is a little big. That's all right. You don't have to be polite andlie. We want the truth. How big is she?"
"About five feet and five inches, must weigh around a hundred andthirty pounds."
"You sure are an expert on the ladies, Macklin, and I'll bet youdidn't miss her name?"
"Her name?"
"Don't tell me you missed out on that!"
"No. It was--Just a minute!"
"Take your time."
"Caroline."
"Take your time now, Macklin, you're doing fine. Don't get confused.Get the last name right. It's the most important to us."
"I have it, I'm sure. The whole name is Caroline Smith."
There was a groan from Ronicky Doone and another from Bill Gregg.
"That's a fine name to use for trailing a person. Did she say anythingmore, anything about where she expected to be living in New York?"
"I don't remember any more," said Macklin sullenly, for the spot whereRonicky's fist landed on his jaw was beginning to ache. "I didn't sitdown and have any chats with her. She just spoke to me once in a whilewhen I did something for her. I suppose you fellows have some crookedwork on hand for her?"
"We're bringing her good news," said Ronicky calmly. "Now see if youcan't remember where she said she lived in New York." And he gaveadded point to his question by pressing the muzzle of the revolvera little closer to the throat of the Pullman conductor. The latterblinked and swallowed hard.
"The only thing I remember her saying was that she could see the EastRiver from her window, I think."
"And that's all you know?"
"Yes, not a thing more about her to save my life."
"Maybe what you know has saved it," said Ronicky darkly.
His victim eyed him with sullen malevolence. "Maybe there'll be a newtrick or two in this game before it's finished. I'll never forget you,Doone, and you, Gregg."
"You haven't a thing in the world on us," replied Ronicky.
"I have the fact that you carry concealed weapons."
"Only this time."
"Always! Fellows like you are as lonesome without a gun as they arewithout a skin."
Ronicky turned at the door and laughed back at the gloomy face, andthen they were gone down the steps and into the street.