CHAPTER IV
THE GAMBLERS
"Won't you come over to see me to-night? Just a friendly little game,my dear--our own crowd, you know."
There was something in the purring tone of the invitation of the womanacross the hall from Constance Dunlap's apartment that aroused hercuriosity.
"Thank you. I believe I will," answered Constance. "It's lonely in abig city without friends."
"Indeed it is," agreed Bella LeMar. "I've been watching you for sometime and wondering how you stand it. Now be sure to come, won't you?"
"I shall be glad to do so," assured Constance, as they reached theirfloor and parted at the elevator door.
She had been watching the other woman, too, although she had saidnothing about it.
"A friendly little game," repeated Constance to herself. "That soundsas if it had the tang of an adventure in it. I'll go."
The Mayfair Arms, in which she had taken a modest suite of rooms, was arather recherche apartment, and one of her chief delights since she hadbeen there had been in watching the other occupants.
There had been much to interest her in the menage across the hall. Mrs.Bella LeMar, as she called herself, was of a type rather common in thecity, an attractive widow on the safe side of forty, well-groomed,often daringly gowned. Her brown eyes snapped vivacity, and the pertlittle nose and racy expression of the mouth confirmed the generalimpression that Mrs. LeMar liked the good things of life.
Quite naturally, Constance observed, her neighbor had hosts of friendswho often came early and stayed late, friends who seemed to exude, asit were, an air of prosperity and high living. Clearly, she was a womanto cultivate. Constance felt even more interest in her, now that Mrs.LeMar had pursued a bowing acquaintance to the point of an unsolicitedinvitation.
"A friendly little game," she speculated. "What IS the game?"
That night found Constance at the buzzer beside the heavy mahoganydoor across the hall. She wore a new evening gown of warm red. Her faceglowed with heightened color, and her nerves were on the qui vive forthe unlocking at last of the mystery of the fascinating Mrs. LeMar.
"So glad to see you, my dear," smiled Bella, holding out her handengagingly. "You are just in time."
Already several of the guests had arrived. There was an air of bonhomieas Bella presented them to Constance--a stocky, red-faced man with awide chest and narrow waist, Ross Watson; a tall, sloping-shoulderedman who inclined his head forward earnestly when he talked to a ladyand spoke with animation, Haddon Halsey; and a fair-haired, baby-blueeyed little woman gowned in becoming pink, Mrs. Lansing Noble.
"Now we're all here--just enough for a game," remarked Bella in abusiness-like tone. "Oh, I beg pardon--you play, Mrs. Dunlap?" sheadded to Constance.
"Oh, yes," Constance replied. "Almost anything--a little bit."
She had already noted that the chief object in the room, after all,appeared to be a round table. About it the guests seemed naturally totake their places.
"What shall it be to-night--bridge?" asked Watson, nonchalantlyfingering a little pack of gilt-edged cards which Bella had produced.
"Oh, no," cried Mrs. Noble. "Bridge is such a bore."
"Rum?"
"No--no. The regular game--poker."
"A dollar limit?"
"Oh, make it five," drawled Halsey impatiently.
Watson said nothing, but Bella patted Halsey's hand in approval, as ifall were on very good terms indeed. "I think that will make a nicelittle game," she cut in, opening a drawer from which she took out abox of blue, red and white chips of real ivory. Watson seemed naturallyto assume the role of banker.
"Aren't you going to join us?" asked Constance.
"Oh, I seldom play. You know, I'm too busy entertaining you people,"excused Bella, as she bustled out of the room, reappearing a fewminutes later with the maid and a tray of slender hollow-stemmedglasses with a bottle wrapped in a white napkin in a pail of ice.
Mrs. Noble shuffled the cards with practiced hand and Watson kept acalculating eye on every face. Luck was not with Constance on the firstdeal and she dropped out.
Mrs. Noble and Halsey were betting eagerly. Watson was coolly followingalong until the show-down--which he won.
"Of all things," exclaimed the little woman in pink, plainly betrayingher vexation at losing. "Will luck never turn?"
Halsey said nothing.
Constance watched in amazement. This was no "friendly little game." Thefaces were too tense, too hectic. The play was too high, and the desireto win too great. Mrs. LeMar was something more than a gracious hostessin her solicitude for her guests.
All the time the pile of chips in front of Watson kept building up. Ateach new deal a white chip was placed in a little box--the kitty--forthe "cards and refreshments."
It was in reality one of the new style gambling joints for men andwomen.
The gay parties of callers on Mrs. LeMar were nothing other thangamblers. The old gambling dens of the icebox doors and steel gratings,of white-coated servants and free food and drink, had passed away with"reform." Here was a remarkable new phase of sporting life which hadgradually taken its place.
Constance had been looking about curiously in the meantime. On a tableshe saw copies of the newspapers which published full accounts of theraces, something that looked like a racing sheet, and a telephoneconveniently located near writing materials. It was a poolroom, too,then, in the daytime, she reasoned.
Surely, in the next room, when the light was on, she saw what lookedlike a miniature roulette wheel, not one of the elaborate affairs ofbright metal and ebony, but one of those that can almost be packed intoa suitcase and carried about easily.
That was the secret of the flashily dressed men and women who called onBella LeMar. They were risking everything, perhaps even honor itself,on a turn of a wheel, the fall of a card, a guess on a horse.
Why had Bella LeMar invited her here? she asked herself.
At first Constance was a little bit afraid that she might have plungedinto too deep water. She made up her mind to quit when her lossesreached a certain nominal point. But they did not reach it. Perhaps thegamblers were too clever. But Constance seemed always to keep just alittle bit ahead of the game.
One person in particular in the group interested her as she endeavoredintuitively to take their measure. It was Haddon Halsey, immaculatelygarbed, with all those little touches of smartness which women like tosee.
Once she caught Halsey looking intently at her. Was it he who wasletting her win at his expense! Or was his attention to her causing himto neglect his own game and play it poorly?
She decided to quit. She was a few dollars ahead. For excuse shepleaded a headache.
Bella accepted the excuse with a cordial nod and a kind inquiry whethershe might not like to lie down.
"No, thank you," murmured Constance. "But the cards make me nervousto-night. Just let me sit here. I'll be all right in a minute."
As she lolled back on a divan near the players Constance noted, orthought she noted, now and then exchanges of looks between Bella andWatson. What was the bond of intimacy between them? She noted on Mrs.Noble's part that she was keenly alive to everything that Halsey did.It was a peculiar quadrangle.
Halsey was losing heavily in his efforts to retrieve his fortunes. Hesaid nothing, but accepted the losses grimly. Mrs. Noble, however,after each successive loss seemed more and more nervous.
At last, with a hasty look at her wrist watch, she gave a littlesuppressed scream.
"How the time flies!" she cried. "Who would have thought it as late asthat? Really I must go. I expect my husband back from a director'smeeting at ten, and it's much easier to be home than to have to thinkup an excuse. No, Haddon, don't disturb yourself. I shall get a cab atthe door. Let me see--two hundred and twenty-eight dollars." She pausedas if the loss staggered her. "I'll have to sign another I O U for it,Bella. There!"
She left in a flutter, as if some one had winked out the light by whichshe, poor little bu
tterfly, had singed her wings, and there was nothingfor her but to fly away alone in the darkness with her secret.
Halsey accompanied her to the door. For a moment she raised aquestioning face to his, and shot a half covert glance at Constance.Then, as if with an effort, adhering to her first resolution to goalone, she whispered earnestly, "I hope you win. Luck MUST turn."
Halsey plunged back into the game, now with Bella holding a hand. Heplayed recklessly, then conservatively. It made no difference. Thecards seemed always against him. Constance began really to feel alarmedat his manner.
Once, however, he chanced to look up at her. Something in her face musthave impressed him. Turning, he flung down the cards in disgust."That's enough for to-night," he exclaimed, rising and draining anotherglass on the tray.
"Luck will come your way soon again," urged Bella. "It all averages upin the end, you know. It has to."
"How did you enjoy the evening!" insinuated Bella.
"Very much," replied Constance enthusiastically. "It is so exciting,you know."
"You must come again when more of my friends are here."
"I should like to. But to-night was very nice."
Halsey looked at her contemplatively. She had risen to go. As she tooka step or two toward the door, still facing them, she found Halsey ather side.
"Shall we go over to Jack's for a bite to eat?" he whispered.
There was as much of appeal in his undertone as of invitation.
"Thank you. I shall be glad to go," Constance assented quickly.
There was something about Haddon Halsey that interested her. PerhapsBella and Watson exchanged a knowing glance as she crossed the hall forher wraps. Whatever it was, Constance determined to see the thingthrough to a finish, confident that she was quite able to take care ofherself.
Outside the raw night air smote dankly on their fevered faces. As theywalked along briskly, too glad to get into the open to summon a car,Constance happened to turn. She had an uncomfortable feeling. She couldhave sworn some one was following them. She said nothing about a figurea few feet behind them.
The lively, all-night restaurant was thronged. Halsey seemed to throwhimself into the gayety with reckless abandon, ordering about twice asmuch as they could eat and drink. But in spite of the fascination ofthe scene, Constance could not forget the dark figure skulking behindthem in the shadow of the street.
Once she looked up. At another table she could just catch a glimpse ofDrummond, of the Burr Detective Agency, alone, oblivious.
Never did he look at them. There was nothing to indicate that he waseven interested. But Constance knew that that was the method of hisshadowing. Never for a moment, she knew, did he permit himself to lookinto the eyes of his quarry, even for the most fleeting glance.
She knew, too, that there must be some psychological reason for his notlooking at them, as he otherwise must have done, if only by chance. Itwas the method followed by the expert modern trailer. She knew that ifone looks at a person intently while in a public place, for instance,it will not be long before the gaze will be returned. Try as she would,she could not catch Drummond's eye, however.
Halsey, now that the strain of the game was off, was rattling alongabout his losses in an undertone to her.
"But what of it?" he concluded. "Any day luck may change. As formyself, I go always on the assumption that I am the oneexception--unlucky both at cards and love. If the event proves I amright, I am not disappointed. If I am wrong, then I am happy."
There was something in the tone of the whimsicality that alarmed her.It covered a desperation which she felt instinctively.
Why was he talking thus to her, almost a stranger? Surely it could nothave been for that that Bella LeMar had brought them together.
Gradually it came to her. The man had really, honestly been struck byher from the moment of their introduction. Instead of allowing others,to say nothing of himself, to lead her on in the path he and Mrs. Nobleand the others had entered, he was taking the bit in his teeth, like ahigh-strung race horse, and was running away, now that Bella LeMar forthe moment did not hold the reins. He was warning her openly againstthe game!
Somehow the action appealed to Constance. It was genuine,disinterested. Secretly, it was flattering. Still, she said nothingabout Bella, nor about Mrs. Noble. Halsey seemed to appreciate thefact. His face showed plainly as if he had said it that here, at least,was one woman who was not always talking about others.
There had been a rapid-fire suddenness about his confidences which hadfascinated her.
"Are you in business?" she ventured.
"Oh, yes," he laughed grimly. "I'm in business--treasurer of theExporting & Manufacturing Company."
"But," she pursued, looking him frankly in the face, "I should thinkyou'd be afraid to--er--become involved--"
"I know I am being watched," he broke in impatiently. "You see, I'mbonded, and the bonding companies keep a pretty sharp lookout on yourhabits. Oh, the crash will come some day. Until it does--let us makethe most of it--while it lasts."
He said the words bitterly. Constance was confirmed in her originalsuspicion of him now. Halsey was getting deeper and deeper into themoral quagmire. She had seen his interest in Mrs. Noble. Had BellaLeMar hoped that she, too, would play will-o '-the-wisp in leading himon?
Over the still half-eaten supper she watched Halsey keenly. A thousandquestions about himself, about Mrs. Noble, rushed through her mind.Should she be perfectly frank?
"Are you--are you using the company's money!" she asked at lengthpointedly.
He had not expected the question, and his evident intention was to denyit. But he met her eye. He tried to escape it, but could not. What wasthere about this little woman that had compelled his attention andinterest from the moment he had been introduced?
Quickly he tried to reason it out in his heart. It was not that she wasphysically attractive to him. Mrs. Noble was that. It was not thatfascination which Bella aroused, the adventuress, the siren, thegorgon. In Constance there was something different. She was a woman ofthe world, a man's woman. Then, too, she was so brutally frank ininviting his confidences.
Over and over he turned the answer he had intended to make. He caughther eye again and knew that it was of no use.
"Yes," he muttered, as a cloud spread over his face at not being able,as usual, to let the gay life put the truth out of his mind. "Yes, Ihave been using--their funds."
As if a switch had been turned, the light broke on Constance. She sawherself face to face with one of the dark shadows in the great city ofhigh lights.
"How?" she asked simply, leaning forward over the table.
There was no resisting her. Quickly he told her all.
"At first with what little money of my own I had I played. Then I beganto sign I O U's and notes. Now I have been taking blank stockcertificates, some of those held as treasury stock in the company'ssafe. They have never been issued, so that by writing in the signaturesof myself and the other officers necessary, I have been able to use itto pay off my losses in gambling."
As he unfolded to her the plan which he had adopted, Constance listenedin amazement.
"And you know that you are watched," she repeated, changing thesubject, and sensing rather than seeing that Drummond was watching themthen.
"Yes," he continued freely. "The International Surety, in which I'mbonded, has a sort of secret service of its own, I understand. It isthe eye that is never closed, but is screened from the man under bond.When you go into the Broadway night life too often, for instance," hepursued, waving his hand about at the gay tables, "run around in fastmotors with faster company--well, they know it. Who is watching, I donot know. But with me it will be as it has been when others came to theend. Some day they will come to me, and they are going to say, 'Wedon't like your conduct. Where do you get this money?' They will know,then, too. But before that time comes I want to win, to be in aposition to tell them to go--"
Halsey clenched his fist. It was evident that he did
not intend toquit, no matter what the odds against him.
Constance thought of the silent figure of Drummond at the othertable--watching, watching. She felt sure that it was to him that theSurety Company had turned over the work of shadowing Halsey. Day afterday, probably, the unobtrusive detective had been trailing Halsey fromthe moment he left his apartment until the time when he returned, if hedid return. There was nothing of his goings and comings that was notalready an open book to them. Of what use was it, then, for Halsey tofight!
It was a situation such as she delighted in. She had made up her mind.She would help Haddon Halsey to beat the law.
Already it seemed as if he knew that their positions had been reversed.He had started to warn her; she now was saving him.
Yet even then he showed the better side of his nature.
"There is some one else, Mrs. Dunlap," he remarked earnestly, "whoneeds your help even more than I do."
It had cost him something to say that. He had not been able to accepther help, even under false pretenses. Eagerly he watched to see whetherjealousy of the other woman played any part with her.
"I understand," she said with a hasty glance at her watch and a covertlook at Drummond. "Let us go. If we are to win we must keep our headsclear. I shall see you to-morrow."
For hours during the rest of the night Constance tossed fitfully inhalf sleep, thinking over the problem she had assumed.
How was she to get at the inside truth of what was going on across thehall? That was the first question.
In her perplexity, she rose and looked out of the window at the nowlightening gray of the courtyard. There dangled the LeMar telephonewire, only a few feet from her own window.
Suddenly an idea flashed over her. In her leisure she had read much andthought more. She recalled having heard of a machine that just fittedher needs.
As soon as she was likely to find places of business open Constancestarted out on her search. It was early in the forenoon before shereturned, successful. The machine which she had had in mind proved tobe an oak box, perhaps eighteen inches long, by half the width, and afoot deep. On its face it bore a little dial. Inside there appeared afine wire on a spool which unwound gradually by clockwork, and, afterpassing through a peculiar small arrangement, was wound up on anotherspool. Flexible silk-covered copper wires led from the box.
Carefully Constance reached across the dizzy intervening space, anddrew in the slack LeMar telephone wires. With every care she cut intothem as if she were making an extension, and attached the wires fromthe box.
Perhaps half an hour later the door buzzer sounded. Constance couldscarcely restrain her surprise as Mrs. Lansing Noble stepped in quicklyand shut the door herself.
"I don't want her to know I'm here," she whispered, nodding across thehall.
"Won't you take off your things?" asked Constance cordially.
"No, I can't stay," returned her visitor nervously, pausing.
Constance wondered why she had come. Was she, too, trying to warn anewcomer against the place!
She said nothing, but now that the effort had been made and the littlewoman had gone actually so far, she felt the reaction. She sank downinto an easy chair and rested her pretty head on her delicately glovedhand.
"Oh, Mrs. Dunlap," she began convulsively, "I hope you will pardon anentire stranger for breaking in on you so informally--but--but Ican't--I can't help it. I must tell some one."
Accustomed as she was now to strange confidences, Constance bent overand patted the little hand of Mrs. Noble comfortingly.
"You seemed to take it so coolly," went on the other woman. "For me theglamour, the excitement are worse than champagne. But you could stop,even when you were winning. Oh, my God! What am I to do? What willhappen when my husband finds out what I have done!"
Tearfully, the little woman poured out the sordid story of herfascination for the game, of her losses, of the pawning of her jewelsto pay her losses and keep them secret, if only for a few days, untilthat mythical time when luck would change.
"When I started," she blurted out with a bitter little laugh, "Ithought I'd make a little pin money. That's how I began--with that andthe excitement. And now this is the end."
She had risen and was pacing the floor wildly.
"Mrs. Dunlap," she cried, pausing before Constance, "to-day I amnothing more nor less than a 'capper,' as they call it, for a gamblingresort."
She was almost hysterical. The contrast with the gay, respectable,prosperous-looking woman at Bella's was appalling. Constance realizedto the full what were the tragedies that were enacted elsewhere.
As she looked at the despairing woman, she could reconstruct theterrible situation. Cultivated, well-bred, fashionably gowned, a womanlike Mrs. Noble served admirably the purpose of luring men on. If therehad been only women or only men involved, it perhaps would not havebeen so bad. But there were both. Constance saw that men were wanted,men who could afford to lose not hundreds, but thousands, men who arealways the heaviest players. And so Mrs. Noble and other unfortunatewomen no doubt were sent out on Broadway to the cafes and restaurants,sent out even among those of their own social circle, always to luremen on, to involve themselves more and more in the web into which theyhad flown. Bella had hoped even to use Constance!
Mrs. Noble had paused again. There was evident sincerity in her as shelooked deeply into the eyes of Constance.
Nothing but desperation could have wrung her inmost secrets from her toanother woman.
"I saw them trying to throw you together with Haddon Halsey," she said,almost tragically. "It was I who introduced Haddon to them. I was toget a percentage of his losses to pay off my own--but"--her feelingsseemed to overcome her and wildly, desperately, she added--"but Ican't--I can't. I--I must rescue him--I must."
It was a strange situation. Constance reasoned it out quickly. What awreck of life these two were making! Not only they were involved, butothers who as yet knew nothing, Mrs. Noble's husband, the family ofHalsey. She must help.
"Mrs. Noble," said Constance calmly, "can you trust me?"
She shot a quick glance at Constance. "Yes," she murmured.
"Then to-night visit Mrs. LeMar as though nothing had happened.Meanwhile I will have thought out a plan."
It was late in the afternoon when Constance saw Halsey again, this timein his office, where he had been waiting impatiently for some word fromher. The relief at seeing her showed only too plainly on his face.
"This inaction is killing me," he remarked huskily. "Has anythinghappened to-day!"
She said nothing about the visit of Mrs. Noble. Perhaps it was betterthat each should not know yet that the other was worried.
"Yes," she replied, "much has happened. I cannot tell you now. Butto-night let us all go again as though nothing had occurred."
"They have twenty-five thousand dollars in stock certificates alreadywhich I have given them," he remarked anxiously.
"Some way--any way, you must get them back for a time. Let me see someof the blanks."
Halsey shut the door. From a secret drawer of his desk he drew apackage of beautifully engraved paper.
Constance looked at it a moment. Then with a fountain pen, across thefront of each, she made a few marks. Halsey looked on eagerly. As shehanded them back to him, not a sign showed on any part of them.
"You must tell them that there is something wrong with the others, thatyou will give them other certificates of your own about which there isno question. Tell them anything to get them back. Here--take this otherfountain pen, sign the new certificates with that, in their presence sothat they will suspect nothing. To-night I shall expect you to play upto the limit, to play into Mrs. Noble's hand and assume her losses,too. I shall meet you there at nine."'
Constance had laid her plans quickly. That night she waited in her ownapartment until she heard Halsey enter across the hall. She haddetermined to give him plenty of time to obtain the old forgedcertificates and substitute for them the new forgeries.
Perhaps half an hour later she heard Mrs. Noble enter. As Constancefollowed her in, the effusive greeting of Bella LeMar showed that asyet she suspected nothing. A quick glance at Halsey brought ananswering nod and an unconscious motion toward his pocket where he hadstuffed the old certificates carelessly.
A moment later they had plunged into the game. The play that night wasspirited. Soon the limit was the roof.
From the start things seemed to run against Halsey and Mrs. Noble evenworse than before. At the same time fortune seemed to favor Constance.Again and again she won, until even Watson seemed to think there wassomething uncanny about it.
"Beginner's luck," remarked Bella with a forced laugh.
Still Constance won, not much, but steadily, though not enough tooffset the larger winnings of Watson.
Fast and furious became the play and as steadily did it go againstHalsey. Mrs. Noble retired, scarcely repressing the tears. Constancedropped out. Only Halsey and Watson remained, fighting as if it were aduel to the death.
"Please stop, Halsey," pleaded Mrs. Noble. "What is the use of temptingfortune?"
An insane half light seemed to glow in his eyes as, with a quick glanceat Constance and a covert nod of approval from her, he forced a smileand playfully laid his finger on Mrs. Noble's lips.
"Double or quits, Watson," he cried. "Return the new certificates ortake others for twice the amount. Are you game?"
"I'm on," agreed Watson coolly.
Halsey laid down his hand in triumph. There were four kings.
"I win," ground out Watson viciously, as he tossed down four aces.
Constance was on her feet in a moment.
"You are a lot of cheats and swindlers," she cried, seizing the cardsbefore any one could interfere.
Deftly she laid out the four aces beside the four deuces, the fourkings beside the four queens. It was done so quickly that even Halsey,in his amazement, could find nothing to say. Mrs. Noble paled and wasspeechless. As for Bella and Watson, nothing could have aroused themmore than the open charge that they were using false devices.
Yet never for a moment did Watson lose his iron cynicism.
"Prove it," he demanded. "As for Mr. Halsey, he may pay or I'll showthe stock I already hold to the proper people."
Constance was facing Watson, as calm as he.
"Show it," she said quietly.
There was a knock at the door.
"Don't let any one in," ordered Bella of the maid, who had alreadyopened the door.
A man's foot had been inserted into the opening. "What's the matter,Chloe?"
"Good Lawd, Mis' Bella--we done been raided!" burst out the maid as thedoor flew wholly open.
Halsey staggered back. "A detective!" he exclaimed.
"Oh, what shall I do!" wailed Mrs. Noble. "My husband will neverforgive me if this becomes known."
Bella was as calm as a good player with a royal straight flush.
"I've caught you at last," fairly hissed Drummond. "And you, too, Mrs.Dunlap. Watson, I overheard something about some stock. Let me see it.I think it will interest International Surety as well as Exporters andManufacturers."
Through the still open door Constance had darted across the hall to herapartment.
"Not so fast," cried Drummond. "You can't escape. The front door isguarded. You can't get out."
She was gone, but a moment later emerged from the darkness of herrooms, carrying the oak box.
As she set it down on the card table, no one said a word. Deliberatelyshe opened the box, disclosing two spools of wire inside. To themachine she attached several head pieces such as a telephone operatorwears. She turned a switch and the wire began to unroll from one spooland wind up on the other again.
A voice, or rather voices, seemed to come from the box itself. It wasuncanny.
"Hello, is this Mrs. LeMar?" came from it.
"What is it?" whispered Halsey, as if fearful of being overheard.
"A telegraphone," replied Constance, shutting it off for a moment.
"A telegraphone? What is that?"
"A machine for registering telephone conversations, dictation, anythingof the sort you wish. It was invented by Valdemar Poulsen, the DanishEdison. This is one of his new wire machines. The record is made by anew process, localized charges of magnetism on this wire. It is aspermanent as the wire itself. There is only one thing that can destroythem--rubbing over the wire with this magnet. Listen."
She had started the machine again. Whose voice was it calling Bella?Constance was looking fixedly at Drummond. He shifted uneasily.
"How much is he in for now?" pursued the voice.
Halsey gasped. It was Drummond's own voice.
"Two hundred and fifty shares," replied Bella's voice.
"Good. Keep at him. Don't lose him. To-night I'll drop in."
"And your client will make good?" she anxiously.
"Absolutely. We will pay five thousand dollars for the evidence thatwill convict him."
Constance's little audience was stunned. But she did not let thetelegraphone pause. Skipping some unimportant calls, she began again.
This was a call from Bella to Watson.
"Ross, that fellow Drummond called up to-day."
"Yes?"
"He is going to pull it off to-night. His client will make good--fivethousand if they catch Halsey with the goods. How about it?"
"Pretty soft--eh, Bella?" came back from Watson.
"My God! it's a plant!" exclaimed Halsey, staggering and droppingheavily into a chair. "I'm ruined. There is no way out!"
"Wait," interrupted Constance. "Here's another call. It may serve toexplain why luck was with me to-night. I came prepared."
"Yes, Mrs. LeMar," came another strange voice from the machine. "We'ddo anything for Mr. Watson. What is it--a pack of strippers?"
"Yes. The aces stripped from the ends, the kings from the sides."
The group looked eagerly at Constance.
"From the maker of fake gambling apparatus, I find," she explained,shutting off the machine. "They were ordering from him cards cut ortrimmed so that certain ones could be readily drawn from the deck, or'stripped.' Small wedge-shaped strips are trimmed off the edges of allthe other cards, leaving the aces, say, projecting just the most minutefraction of an inch beyond the others. Everything is done carefully.The rounded edges at the corners are recut to look right. When thecards are shuffled the aces protrude a trifle over the edges of theother cards. It is a simple matter for the dealer to draw or strip outas many aces as he wants, stack them on the bottom of the pack as heshuffles the cards, and draw them from the bottom whenever he wantsthem. Strippers are one of the newest things in swindling. Marked cardsare out of date. But some decks have the aces stripped from the ends,the kings from the sides. With this pack, as you can see, a sucker canbe dealt out the kings, while the house player gets the aces."
Drummond brazened it out. With a muttered oath he turned to Watsonagain. "What rot is this? The stock, Watson," he repeated. "Where isthat stock I heard them talking about?"
Mrs. Noble, forgetting all now but Halsey, paled. Bella LeMar wasfumbling at her gold mesh bag. She gave a sudden, suppressed littlescream.
"Look!" she cried. "They are blank--those stock certificates he gaveme."
Drummond seized them roughly from her hands.
Where the signatures should have been there was nothing at all!
Across the face of the stock were the words in deep black, "SAMPLECERTIFICATE," written in an angular, feminine hand.
What did it mean? Halsey was as amazed as any of them. Mechanically heturned to Constance.
"I didn't say anything last night," she remarked incisively. "But I hadmy suspicions from the first. I always look out for the purry kind of'my dear' woman. They have claws. Last night I watched. To-day Ilearned--learned that you, Mr. Drummond, were nothing but ablackmailer, using these gamblers to do your dirty work. Haddon, theywould have thrown you out like a squeezed lemon as soon as the moneyyou had was gone.
They would have taken the bribe that Drummond offeredfor the stock--and they would have left you nothing but jail. I learnedall that over the telegraphone. I learned their methods and, knowingthem, even I could not be prevented from winning to-night."
Halsey moved as if to speak. "But," he asked eagerly, "the stockcertificates--what of them!"
"The stock?" she answered with deliberation. "Did you ever hear thatwriting in quinoline will appear blue, but will soon fade away, whileother writing in silver nitrate and ammonia, invisible at first, aftera few hours appears black? You wrote on those certificates insympathetic ink that fades, I in ink that comes up soon."
Mrs. Noble was crying softly to herself. They still had her notes forthousands.
Halsey saw her. Instantly he forgot his own case. What was to be doneabout her? He telegraphed a mute appeal to Constance, forgetful ofhimself now. Constance was fingering the switch of the telegraphone.
"Drummond," remarked Constance significantly, as though other secretsmight still be contained in the marvelous little mechanical detective,"Drummond, don't you think, for the sake of your own reputation as adetective, it might be as well to keep this thing quiet?"
For a moment the detective gripped his wrath and seemed to consider thedamaging record of his conversation with Bella LeMar.
"Perhaps," he agreed sullenly.
Constance reached into her chatelaine. From it she drew an ordinarymagnet, and slowly pulled off the armature.
"If I run this over the wires," she hinted, holding it near the spools,"the record will be wiped out." She paused impressively. "Let me havethose I O U's of Mrs. Noble's. By the way, you might as well give methat blank stock, too. There is no use in that, now."
As she laid the papers in a pile on the table before her she added theold forged certificates from Halsey's pocket. There it lay, theincriminating, ruining evidence.
Deliberately she passed the magnet over the thin steel wire, wiping outwhat it had recorded, as if the recording angel were blotting out fromthe book of life.
"Try it, Drummond," she cried, dropping on her knees before the openfireplace. "You will find the wire a blank."
There was a hot, sudden blaze as the pile of papers from the tableflared up.
"There," she exclaimed. "These gambling debts were not even debts ofhonor. If you will call a cab, Haddon, I have reserved a table atJade's for you and Mrs. Noble. It is a farewell. Drummond will notoccupy his place in the corner to-night. But--after it--you are toforget--both of you--forever. You understand?"