The Gray Mask
CHAPTER X
THE COINS AND THE CHINAMAN
On their way to the station, and during their long journey to New York,Nora drew back from any attempt of Garth's in the direction ofsentiment. Frequently he stared at her with a whimsical despair. It wasclear enough that he was not distasteful to her. He fancied, moreover,that he had through his very persistence softened perceptibly the girl'sregret for Kridel; had remodeled to an extent her earlier attitude of awidow. Would he, however, he asked himself, be able to go the whole way?
Now she wished to talk of trivial things, to make a lark of theirluncheon in Boston, to get as far away as she could from the dangerousand uncertain profession which had taken Kridel from her, and whichmight, even before she could resolve her own feelings, involve Garth insome fatal accident. Once he recurred to the gray mask, and spoke ofSlim and George, whose trial would soon begin. She trembled slightly, hethought. She wouldn't let him go on. Her fear, he was certain, was notfor herself. That much encouraged. Yet this rivalry with one who hadbeen for some time dead often brought him a sensation of completehelplessness; for Nora was not one to pose. She was honest with herself,with Garth, with the dead man. Perhaps some grave sacrifice wouldresolve her doubts. He felt himself capable of that. He fell into hermood at last, and found the journey home too short. In retrospect itassumed an increased value. During a long period he saw practicallynothing of Nora.
For a month or more he found no comfort in his work. Headquarters, heremarked many times, was a rest cure for anybody who wanted one.
All at once that altered, as such things happen, without warning. He hadspent an hour or so on an unimpressive case, and it was nearly midnightwhen he turned south from the frontier of Harlem.
From time to time a light snow fell, and always there was a vaporousquality about the cold night air which added to the waywardness of hisunexpected experience.
He walked for a long time, scarcely aware of the landmarks of theneighbourhood, rehearsing thoughts which, these last few weeks, hadgrown familiar and unpalatable. Now, as always, they failed to guide himto any explanation of Nora's abrupt abandonment of her routine. Hisrecent visits at the flat had thrown him into the hospitable hands ofthe inspector, who, however, had maintained an incomprehensible silenceas to his daughter's whereabouts. Garth could read in this attitude noantagonism to his own ambitions. He was confident that the result ofhis campaign for Nora's heart depended wholly on the girl herself.
He realized it was growing late. Absent-mindedly he turned into a sidestreet, intending to reach Third Avenue and climb the steps of thenearest elevated station.
It was the discreet murmuring of a motor that routed finally hispreoccupation. A limousine of an extravagant type had halted close tothe curb at the end of the block. It pointed a contrast which stirredthe detective's curiosity. The street, he noticed now, in common withmany this far up-town, was inadequately lighted, but, in spite of theveils placed by the snow and the haze over the few gas lamps, a glanceinformed him that fashion had not invaded this far. The buildings, withhigh stoops and sunken areaways, were of a depressing, tastelesssimilarity--doubtless cheap boarding-houses or dreary convertedapartments. He wondered what such an automobile did here, unless,perhaps, the chauffeur, alone, had some object. But he saw that, whilethe chauffeur retained his seat, the door was opened from the inside anda tall man, in a high hat and a fur coat, which exposed an eveningshirt, stepped with nervous haste to the sidewalk.
Garth slackened his pace. He kept to the shadows near the house line. Hewatched with increasing interest while the man crossed the pavement,and, instead of climbing the steps, stooped to place an object on theground. He saw him rise then and take something from his pocket which hetossed in the air. He was not surprised when the man failed to catchit. He heard it, whatever it was, strike the sidewalk, clickingmetallically.
The man dropped to his knees and with wide gestures searchedthe flagging and the gutter. After a moment the chauffeurexclaimed--angrily, Garth fancied--then descended from his seat andjoined the hunt.
Garth, speculating on this unconventional performance, stepped casuallyinto an areaway, as if, indeed, it was his destination. From thisshelter he observed the outcome.
The chauffeur picked up something which he thrust into the other's hand.After glancing quickly around he sprang to his seat while the man inevening clothes straightened, returned to the limousine, and closed thedoor. The car rolled almost silently up the street.
What, Garth questioned, had been left with such care on the sidewalk infront of the corner house? What object, probably similar, had occasionedthe search?
When the car was nearly opposite him the man inside tapped on the pane.On a subdued note the chauffeur exclaimed again, then pulled the car tothe curb and stopped it.
Once more the well-dressed man left the limousine and crossed thesidewalk. For the second time he bent and placed something carefully onthe ground. It lay within Garth's reach, but just outside his line ofvision. In fact, Garth could have grasped the other, so close was he;and he could see, in spite of the inefficient light, that he was youngand probably good-looking. His inspection, however, was limited, for theother arose, breathing harshly, as if he were labouring under anunfamiliar excitement, and returned to the car.
As the driver set his gears and let the clutch in Garth reached throughthe areaway railing and fumbled about the sidewalk for the object. Hisfingers found it--round, flat, hard--not at all puzzling in itself, yetcompletely unintelligible as a clue to the young man's motive in placingit there. It was a piece of money.
Garth slipped from the areaway. He held his find up to the nearest lamp.The piece of money was a five dollar gold piece. He glanced along thestreet. The automobile had just swung from sight. He started quicklyafter it, because it had occurred to him that if such a performance wererepeated in Park Avenue, his curiosity would make him stop the machine,would suggest a number of questions to the young man in the fur coat,would seek an explanation of the chauffeur's furtive impatience.
When he turned the corner he was not surprised to find the limousinehalted again, to see the young man returning from a third excursion tothe house line where, doubtless, he had with an extreme anxiety placedanother piece of money.
Garth broke into a run. The chauffeur glanced over his shoulder andmuttered quickly to the man, who sprang in. As soon as the door wasclosed the car started with a speed almost affirmative of flight.
Garth held up his hand with the gold piece and shouted. The car wentfaster. He hastened to read the license number on its rear. As he wroteit in his pocket book he watched the red of the tail light diminish anddisappear.
He walked over and picked up a twenty-five cent piece. Why then had theyoung man left five dollars around the corner? He stared at the twocoins, his bewilderment growing. What could be the explanation of thistrail of money, left with a scrupulous care on New York pavements? Ofwhat abnormal diligence could such an eccentricity be an echo? Howpronounced was its significance?
Almost certainly another coin lay close to Lexington Avenue where thecar had first stopped. It was not probable that a third exhibit wouldreflect any light on the affair, still he wanted to learn thedenomination of that coin, and evidently it was the final goal of hiscuriosity to-night.
As soon as he turned the corner he saw that he would be too late. Thediscovery heightened his interest. Breathlessly, he slipped into anareaway and watched.
A singularly small figure of a man shuffled across Lexington Avenue and,as if with an assured purpose, made for the corner stoop. The arc lightdown there, while it emphasized few details, sharpened Garth's wonder atthe size and shape of the newcomer. He was inclined to explain him as asmall boy, masquerading in mature clothing. Yet there was about theshoulders a thickness and a curve which did not belong to youth. Theface was concealed by the turned-up collar of a diminutive overcoat andby a felt hat, drawn low over the eyes. Even at a distance the figureprojected an air of the lawless and sinister.
The man bent and picked up the coin. Afterwards he continued towardsGarth, not, however, in a straight line. He shuffled stealthily, hisfeet scarcely leaving the ground, in a series of zig-zags across thesidewalk. And always his shoulders remained bowed, the eyes lowered, asif he examined with a vital solicitude every inch of his path.
It was obvious to Garth that there was some connection between the youngman in the limousine and this stunted, clandestine figure who followedhis trail with such anxious vigilance. Therefore he felt justified insetting a small trap. If its issue involved him in a mistake a laughwould extricate him. But he foresaw no mistake. The deformed thingapproaching was not to be explained as a peaceful, if tipsy, citizen,bound for home. So he placed the five dollar gold piece just outside therailing. He removed his gloves. He took his pocket lamp from his coatand held it ready. If the other saw the money and tried to pick it up hewould be quite at the mercy of Garth's lamp and hands.
That would happen, for the man had evidently caught the pallid gleamingof the gold. Without increasing his pace he shuffled across andstooped, stretching out his hand. Up to this point the other's activityhad worn an established air. Garth proceeded to rout its complacence. Hereached through the railing, and as the hand was about to close over themoney grasped it with all his strength.
He had been prepared for fright, for a struggle, but scarcely for theshrill, animal cry that greeted his surprise, nor for the violent andunnatural strength that quivered through the little body as it tried tobreak away.
And at first Garth combatted a quick impulse to let go. The quality ofthe bare hand in his own revolted him. The fingers were long, slender,and hard. The skin was dry. It gave him an impression that there was noflesh between it and the bones it covered.
"Steady, my friend," he muttered. "That's my money in your claw. Let'shave a look at you."
The other's squirming increased. The scream was not repeated. Only adifficult, sobbing sound came recurrently from the man's throat.
At last Garth managed to twist the small wrist so that practically hecontrolled the fellow's movements. Then he pressed the button of hislamp. The light shone mercilessly upon an abhorrent face.
The skin was yellow, and tight, like parchment, across the high cheekbones. The tiny eyes lay far back in rounded sockets. In the lamplightthey were deceptively reminiscent of the eyes of a cat. But it was onthe head, from which the hat had fallen, that Garth's glance lingeredwith the most distaste. A queue was curled about it. It gave the lasttouch to the fantasy of the snow, the mist, the deserted street of oldhouses--a fitting setting for the night's vagaries.
For him the coil of hair gleamed like a serpent, carefully poised andawaiting the most favorable moment for its stroke. As the yellow headmoved spasmodically the coil appeared to writhe. It provoked Garth'simagination. With quiet eloquence it symbolized a vicious conservatism,publicly dead. It suggested secret ceremonials in forbidden shrines. Ina broader sense it was the outward survival, properly snake-like, ofunconquerable and scarcely apprehended customs.
Garth shuddered. He found it more difficult than before to cling to thatbony hand. He arose, snapped off the light, and grasped the Oriental bythe shoulder.
"How did you know you'd find this money on the sidewalk?" he asked.
The other shivered, as if for the first time the cold had reached him.
"Talk up," Garth ordered. "Who's the fashion-plate that left it?"
The Chinaman made a last effort to escape. Garth subdued him.
"No talk-ee, eh? All right, little one. Then you'll have a nice freeride downtown--just as a suspicious character."
For a possibility had occurred to him from which he shrank. Still,since it existed, it dictated a clear enough duty. He stepped from theareaway.
"Hustle along, sonny."
The other exploded into a torrent of Chinese. Garth understood not aword, yet the shrill voice, rising and falling, cried to him a fear anda despair that were tragic.
"Bluff away," he muttered, "though I don't see what good it will do you.Plenty of interpreters at headquarters. Point is, are you comingpeaceably, or will I have to wake up a patrolman to get a wagon?"
The Chinaman was on the point of collapse. Garth practically carried himto the corner. He experienced a feeling of remorse, which, however,vanished before the recollection of the queue, glistening, serpent-like.
He was relieved to turn his man over at headquarters. He saw him placedin an empty detention cell.
"Sleep tight," he called as the key turned. "Maybe you'll learn Englishby morning."
His own sleep was untroubled, save by his persistent uneasiness aboutNora.
As soon as he was up the next morning he telephoned the Bureau ofLicenses and apparently ran his one clue into a dead wall. Thelimousine, he found, belonged to Thomas Black, a young man of more thanordinary wealth and position. Garth flushed uncomfortably. He began tosuspect that he had been guilty of an indiscretion, for Black, someyears ago, had married the sister of Rufus Manford, whose recentselection as head of the Society for Social Justice had set in motion acumbersome amount of self-satisfied and unusually ill-designed activityagainst crime. Still Garth knew that Manford was working with theinspector now on some urgent cases about which little was said atheadquarters. It was possible, then, that the trail of coins had beenarranged by Manford in the society's office for a purpose which hisinterference might have destroyed.
But the growing day diminished the importance of the whole adventure.That returned to it only when the telephone summoned him as he was aboutto leave his rooms.
"Hello!" he called.
The voice that answered was gruff, disapproving, almost reproachful, hewould have said.
"It's Ed, at headquarters. Say, you've got me in bad. Hustle on down.Inspector's on his ear and wants you."
"What's up, Ed?"
"That pigtail of yours. Can't make out the chief. Might be a member ofhis own family."
"What are you driving at, Ed? What's the matter with the pigtail?"
"Dead--that's all."
"Dead!" Garth echoed.
"Yup. Must have done it right after you left. Choked himself to heavenwith his bloomin' queue. Now if he'd had it cut off proper--"