CHAPTER XV--AN EXTRAORDINARY INTERVIEW
But he could not sleep; his brain was too busy. He wondered in what partof the house Gee-gee and Gid-up were domiciled? He wondered if Mrs. Danand Mrs. Clarence were drawing up affidavits? He wondered if thattaxicab man had yet come to town and if he would get out a warrant,charging him (Bob) with assault? He wondered if Dan and Clarence knewGee-gee and Gid-up were here, and if so, what would they do about it?Would they, too, come prancing on the scene? He wondered if Miss Geraldwere engaged to the hammer-man? He wondered if the maniac-medico wouldthink of looking for him (Bob) here? He wondered where the police werelooking for him and who was the thief, anyway? This last mental queryled him to consider the guests, one by one.
He began with the bishop. Suspicion, of course, could not point in thatdirection. Still, there was that play, _Deacon Brodie_--a very good manwas a thief in it. But a deacon wasn't a bishop. Besides, Bob had greatrespect for the cloth. He dismissed the bishop with an inward apology.He next considered the judge, but the judge was too portly for thoseagile sleight-of-hand feats and the deft foot-work required. He passedon to the doctor. The doctor had delicate little hands, adapted forfilching work, but he was too much absorbed in cutting up little dogsand cats to care for such insensible trifles as glittering gee-gaws. Thedoctor might be capable of absconding with a Fido or somebody's petMeow, but an inanimate Kooh-i-nor would hold for him no temptations. Sofrom Doc, Bob passed on to Mrs. Van. But she wouldn't surreptitiouslyappropriate her own brooch. He even considered the temperamental youngthing whose interest in crime and criminals was really shocking.
He had got about this far in thrashing things over in his mind when arather startling realization that he wasn't alone in the room smote him.Some one was over there--at the window, and that some one had softlycrossed the room. Bob made an involuntary movement, turning in bed tosee plainer, when with a slight sound of suppressed surprise, the someone almost magically disappeared. Bob couldn't tell whether he had goneout of the window, or had sprung back into the room and was nowconcealing himself behind the heavy curtains. The young man made asudden rush for the window and grab for the curtain, only to discoverthere was no one there; nor could he see any one on the balcony, orclimbing down. He did see below, however, a skulking figure fastvanishing among the shrubbery. A moment, the thought of the commodoreinsinuated itself in the young man's bewildered brain, but the commodorewould not again be trying to see him (Bob) here, for the very goodreason that Dan could not know Bob was here. No one yet knew Bob hadreturned to Mrs. Ralston's house. The commodore and Clarence no doubtstill believed Bob to be shut up in a cute little cubby-hole with bars.
The skulking figure below, then, could be dissociated from thecomplicated domestic tangle; his proper place was in that other silentdrama, dealing with mysterious peculations. Should Bob climb down,follow and attempt to capture him? Bob had on only his pajamas andalready the fellow was far away. He would lead any one a fine chase andBob hadn't any special desire to go romping over hills in his presentattire, or want of attire. If any one caught him doing it, what excusecould he make? That he was chasing an accomplice of a thief inside thehouse who had probably dropped his glittering booty for his pal to takeaway? But he (Bob) was supposed to be that inside-operator, himself, andhe wouldn't be chasing his own pal. Or again, if he were detected inthat sprinting performance by those who didn't know he was supposed tobe an inside-operator, but who thought him only a plain crazy man,wouldn't the necessity for his reincarceration be but emphasized? Maybethis latter contingent of his enemies would consider a plain, publicinsane asylum, without flowers in the window, good enough for him. They,undoubtedly, _would_ so conclude if they knew the state of Bob's privatefortune, which certainly did not justify private institutions.
A slight noise behind him drove all these considerations from Bob'smind. He dove at once in the direction of the sound, only to fall overhis grip, and as he sprawled, not heroically, in the dark, his door wasopened and closed almost noiselessly. Exasperated, he gathered himselftogether and made for the door. Throwing it back, he gazed down thehall, only to see a figure swiftly vanishing around a dimly-lightedcorner. Bob couldn't make out whether it was a man or a woman, butseeing no one else in the hall, he impetuously and recklessly dartedafter it. When he reached the corner, however, the figure was gone.
Bob stood in a quandary. There were a good many different doors aroundthat corner. Through which one had his mysterious visitor vanished? Ifhe but knew, he felt certain he could place his hand on the much wantedindividual who was making such a nuisance of himself in social circles.He might be able to rid society of one of those essentially modernpests, and at the same time lift the mantle of suspicion from himself.At least, he would be partly rehabilitated. Later, he might complete theprocess. And oh, to have her once more see him as he was.
He was sorely tempted to try a door. He even put his hand on the knob ofthe door nearest the corner. The figure must have turned in here; hecouldn't have gone farther without Bob's having caught sight of him. Atleast, Bob felt almost sure of this conclusion, having attained thatcorner with considerable celerity, himself.
Almost on the point of turning the knob, prudence bade Bob to pause.Suppose he made a mistake? Suppose, for example, he stumbled uponGee-gee's room, or Gid-up's? The perspiration started on Bob's brow.Gee-gee would be quite capable of hanging on to him and then raising arow, just for publicity purposes. She would make "copy" out of anything,that girl would. Then, if it wasn't Gee-gee's room, it might be Mrs.Van's. Fancy his invading the privacy of that austere lady's boudoir!Bob's hand shook slightly and the knob rattled a trifle; he hastilyreleased it. To his horror a voice called out.
"Any one there?"
It was Gee-gee. Bob stood still, not daring to stir, lest Gee-gee, withsenses alert, should hear him and come out and find him. He prayeddevoutly not to be "found." It was bad enough to be crazy, and to be asocial buccaneer, without having Miss Gerald look upon him as anintrigant, a Don Juan and a Jonathan Wild all rolled into one. Bobwanted to flee the worst way, but still he thought it better to containhimself and stand there like a wooden man a few moments longer.
"Any one there?" repeated Gee-gee.
A neighboring door opened and one of the last men Bob wanted to see,under the circumstances, looked out. It was the hammer-thrower and hishonest face expressed a world of wonder, incredulity and reproach, as hebeheld and recognized Bob, who didn't know what to do, or to say. Hecertainly didn't want to say anything though, having no desire toagitate Miss Gee-gee any further. Fortunately, the hammer-thrower seemedtoo amazed for words. He just kept looking and looking. "Where on earthdid you come from?" his glance seemed to say. "Are you the ghost of BobBennett? And if you aren't, what are you doing here, before a lady'sdoor, at this time of night?"
Disapproval now became mixed with indecision in the hammer-thrower'sglance. He seemed trying to make up his mind whether or not it was acase demanding forcible measures on his part. Was it his duty to springupon Bob, then and there, and "show him up" before the world? Bob readthe thought. In another moment Gee-gee might come to the door, andthen--? Bob suddenly and desperately determined to throw himself uponthe mercy of the hammer-thrower. Indeed, he had no choice.
Quickly he moved to the door where his hated rival stood and as quicklypushed by him and entered that person's room. At the same moment Gee-geeunlocked her door. Bob couldn't see her, though, as he was nowthankfully swallowed up in the depths of a recess in thehammer-thrower's room. Gee-gee peeked out. She met the eye of thehammer-thrower who had modestly withdrawn most of his person back intohis apartment and who now suffered only a fraction of his face to berevealed to Gee-gee at that unseemly hour and place, and under suchunseemly circumstances.
"I beg your pardon," said the hammer-thrower deferentially, and in avery low tone, "but did you call out?"
"Yes, I thought I heard some one at my door."
Bob hardly breathed. Would the hammer-thrower hale him
forth? Would hetoss him--or try to--right out into the hall at Gee-gee's feet?
"I--I don't see any one," said the hammer-thrower hesitatingly, andstill in a very low tone. His hesitation, however, told Bob he hadconsidered or was still considering that forcible policy.
"I certainly thought I did hear some one," observed Gee-gee, matchingthe other's tones. His voice seemed to imply that it might be as wellnot to arouse any others of the household and Gee-gee involuntarily fellin with the suggestion.
"You--" Again, however, that awful hesitation! The hammer-thrower had noreason to like Bob, for did he not know that young gentleman had thepresumption to adore Miss Gerald? Still the apparently more successfulsuitor for Gwendoline's hand had a sportsmanlike instinct. He'd beenbrought up to be conscientious. He had been educated to be gentlemanlyand considerate. Perhaps he was asking himself now if it might not bemore sportsmanlike not to denounce Bob, then and there, but to give him,at least, a chance to explain? "You--you must be mistaken," said thehammer-thrower, after a pause, in a low tense whisper.
"You're sure it wasn't you?" murmured Gee-gee softly but suspiciouslyand eying the other's open and trustworthy countenance.
"I?" For a moment Bob thought now, indeed, had come the time to ejecthim, but--"Is that a reasonable conjecture?" the other murmured back.
Gee-gee pondered. "No, it ain't," she confessed, at length. Lockeddouble-doors separated her room and the hammer-thrower's. He wouldsurely have used a skeleton key on those doors were he the guilty party,instead of going out into the hall to try to get in that way. "I got tothinking of that swell burglar who is going the rounds, before I went tosleep," murmured Gee-gee, "and I may have been dreaming of him! Sorry tohave disturbed you." And Gee-gee closed her door very quietly.
She thought she must have been mistaken about the intruder. Anyhow,there wasn't much excitement for an actress any more, in being robbed.That advertising stunt had been so overworked that even the provincialdramatic critics yawned and tossed the advance man's little yarn of"jewels lost" right into an unsympathetic waste-basket. A scandal inhigh life was always more efficacious. No one ever got tired of scandalsand city editors simply clamored for "more." So Gee-gee composed herselffor sleep again. She had reason to be satisfied, for had not she andGid-up, who roomed with her, sat up late and arranged final detailsbefore retiring?
Gid-up would say: "We'll make it like this." And Gee-gee would answer:"No, like this." Of course, Gee-gee's way was better. Upon a slenderthread of fact she fashioned, as Dickie had feared, a most wonderfuledifice of fancy. She had mapped out a case that would startle even dearold New York. "Better do it good, if we're going to do it at all," shehad said. Gid-up had been a little doubtful at first, but she always didwhat Gee-gee told her to in the end. And Gee-gee knew she could dependupon Gid-up's memory, for once the latter had had a small part. She hadto say: "Send for the doctor" and she had never been known to get mixedup and say: "Send for the police," or for the undertaker, or anythingequally ridiculous. Having thoroughly rehearsed her lines, she wouldstick to them like a major. When Mrs. Dan and Mrs. Clarence and the twoG's should get together on the morrow, the largest anticipations of thetwo former ladies would be realized. Gee-gee wouldn't have Mrs. Dandisappointed for the world. Gid-up was rather afraid of Mrs. Clarence;however, she had been batted about by so many rough stage-managers andcranky musical-directors, she could stand almost anything.
But what about Bob?
* * * * *
That young gentleman, now seated in the hammer-thrower's room, hadfrankly revealed what had happened to bring him out in the hall. In alow tone he told why he had approached Gee-gee's door and what had beenin his mind when he had placed his hand on the knob. The hammer-thrower,if not appearing particularly impressed by Bob's story, listenedgravely; occasionally he shook his head. It wasn't, on the whole, a veryreasonable-sounding yarn. Truth certainly sounded stranger than fictionin this instance. Bob couldn't very well blame the other for notbelieving. Still he (Bob) owed him that explanation. Though he (Bob)might detest him as the man who would probably rob him of Miss Gerald'shand, still the fact remained that the hammer-thrower appeared atpresent in the guise of his (Bob's) savior. Bob couldn't get away fromthis unpleasant conclusion. He didn't want to have anything to do withthe other and yet here he was in his room, actually being shielded byhim. The situation was, indeed, well-nigh intolerable.
The hammer-thrower studied Bob with quiet earnest eyes, and the latterhad to acknowledge to himself that the man's face was strong andcapable. If Miss Gerald married him--as seemed not unlikely--she would,at any rate, not get a weak man. He was about as big as Bob, though notso reckless-looking. Bob was handsomer, in his dashing way, but somegirls, sensibly inclined, would prefer what might appear a more reliabletype. The hammer-thrower looked so sure of himself and his ground heinspired confidence. He looked too sure of his ground now, as regardsBob.
"It won't do," he said with his usual directness to Bob, when the latterhad finished explaining. "Sounds a little fishy! I'm sorry, old chap,but I shall have to have time to think it all over. And then I'll try todecide what is best to be done. You say you were unjustly incarceratedin a private sanatorium." Bob hadn't explained the circumstances--whohad "incarcerated" him and why. "That you were incarcerated at all is amatter of regret."
"To you?" said Bob cynically.
"Of course." Firmly, but with faint surprise. "You didn't think Irejoiced at your misfortune, did you?"
"I didn't know. I thought it possible."
The hammer-thrower's heavy brows drew together. "You seem to have alittle misconception of my character," he observed with a trace offormality. "You were incarcerated, apparently, _pro bono publico_. I hadno hand in it. If I had been consulted, I should have hesitated sometime before expressing an opinion."
"Thanks," said Bob curtly. Such generous reserve was rather galling,coming from this quarter.
"I'm afraid you don't mean that," replied the other. "And it's a badhabit to say what you don't mean. However, we are drifting from thesubject. You will pardon me for not swallowing, _a capite ad calcem_,that little Muenchhausen explanation of yours."
"I don't care whether you swallow it head, neck and breeches, or not,"returned Bob. The other had taken a classical course at college, and Bobconceived he was ponderously trying to show off, just to be annoying. Hewas adopting a doubly irritating and classical manner of calling Bob aliar. And that young man was not accustomed to being called that--atleast, of yore! Maybe he would have to stand it now. It seemed so."You're like a good many other people I've met lately," said Bob, notwithout a touch of weariness as well as bitterness. "You don't know thetruth when you hear it."
The hammer-thrower drew up his heavy shoulders. "No use abusing me, oldchap," he said in even well-poised tones. "Am I at fault for yourunpopularity? Indeed"--as if arguing with himself in his slow heavyfashion--"I fail to understand why you have made yourself unpopular. Youseem to have proceeded with deliberate intention. However, that isirrelevant. You say there was some one in your room, or rather the roomyou were supposed to have vacated; but to which you have unaccountablyreturned--not, I imagine, by way of the front door." Severely. "Andafter entering in burglarious fashion you pursued a phantom. The phantomvanished, leaving you in a compromising position. You expect people tobelieve that?" Shaking his head.
"I should be surprised if they did," answered Bob gloomily. "I supposeyou'll tell everybody to-morrow."
"That's the question," said the other seriously. "What is my duty in thematter? I don't want to do you an irreparable injury, yet appearancescertainly seem to indicate that you--" He hesitated.
"Never mind the Latin for it," said Bob. "Plain Anglo-Saxon will do.Call me a thief."
"It's an ugly word," said the other reluctantly, "and--well, I don'twish to be hasty. My father always told me to help a man whenever Icould; not to shove him down. And maybe--" He paused. There was really anice expression on his strong
face.
"Oh, you think I may be only a young offender--a juvenile in crime?"exclaimed Bob bitterly.
"The words are your own," observed the other. "To tell you the truth,"seriously, "I hardly know what to think. It is all tooextraordinary--too unexpected. I'll have to ponder on it. The profs, atcollege always said I had the champion slow brain. The peculiar part tome is," that puzzled look returning to his heavy features, "I can'tunderstand why you're making people think what they do of you? Frankly,I don't believe you're 'dippy.' You were always rather--just what is theword?--'mercurial'--yes; that will do. But your head looks right enoughto me."
"What's the Latin for 'Thank you'?" said Bob.
"Do you really think this is a trivial matter?" asked the other, bendinga stronger glance upon his visitor. "I believe you are somewhatobligated to me. Please bear that in mind." With quiet dignity. "As Iwas saying, your conduct since coming here, seems to baffleexplanation--that is, the right one. I wonder what is your 'lay,'anyhow? What's the idea? I like to be able to grasp people." Forcefully."And you escape me. I can't get at the tangible in you. Nor"--with asudden quick glance--"can Miss Gerald--"
"Suppose we leave her name out," said Bob sharply. "You've done me afavor which I ought not to have accepted. And I tell you frankly I'drather have accepted it from any one else in the world."
"I think I understand," replied the other quietly, with no show ofresentment on his heavy features. "Have a cigar?" Indicating a box onthe table.
"I'd rather not."
"Very well!"
For some moments Bob sat in moody silence. Then suddenly he got up.
"Am I to be permitted to return to my room?" he asked.
"I believe I told you I would consider your case," said thehammer-thrower.
And Bob passed out. He regained his room without mishap, which rathersurprised him. He almost expected to be intercepted by the monocle-manbut nothing of the kind happened.