The Girl and the Bill

  CHAPTER XIII

  AN OLD MAN OF THE SEA

  "Oh, Mr. Orme, you are the man I most wished to see." The minister'svoice carried a note of unrestrained eagerness. He extended his hand.

  Orme accepted the salutation, mustering the appearance of a casualmeeting; he must keep Alcatrante out of the building.

  "I was sorry that I could not be at your apartment this morning,"continued Alcatrante, "and I hope you did not wait too long."

  "Oh, no," replied Orme. "I waited for a little while, but concluded thatsomething had called you away. Has Senhor Poritol recovered from hisanxiety?"

  "Why, no," said Alcatrante. "But the course of events has changed." Helinked his arm in Orme's and walked along with him toward the center ofthe city. "You see," he went on, "my young friend Poritol overestimatedthe importance of that marked bill. It did give the clue to the hidingplace of certain papers which were of great value to him. What he failedto realize was that the papers could be of little importance to others.And yet, so perturbed is he that he has asked me to offer a considerablereward for the recovery of these papers."

  "Indeed?"

  "Yes." Alcatrante sent a slanting glance at Orme. "The sum isridiculously large, but he insists on offering one thousand dollars."

  "Quite a sum," said Orme calmly. He was interested in the minister'sindirections.

  "As for the events of last night"--continued Alcatrante, stopping short,with a significant glance.

  "Well?" said Orme indifferently.

  "I trust that you did not think me absurd for sending that detective toyou. That I did so was a result of poor Poritol's frantic insistence."

  "Indeed?"

  "My young friend was so afraid that you would be robbed."

  "I was robbed," laughed Orme, trying to make light of the situation.

  "Why, how was that?" Alcatrante's surprise was well assumed.

  "Oh, after I said good-night to you, the two Japanese caught me while Iwas going through the tunnel to the courtyard."

  "My dear Mr. Orme!"

  "They are clever, those Japanese."

  "And afterward you went out again?"

  "What makes you think that?"

  Alcatrante bit his lip. "Why," he stammered, "the detective reported thatyou were absent when he arrived."

  "And therefore," remarked Orme coolly, "he got access to my apartmentand, after rummaging through my things, went sound asleep in my bedroom,where I found him snoring when I returned."

  The minister swung his cane viciously at a bit of paper that lay on thesidewalk.

  "He was not a clever detective," continued Orme. "And as for Poritol,don't you think he had better offer his reward to the Japanese?"

  "No," replied Alcatrante. "They may have stolen the clue from you, but Ihave reason to think that the papers were already gone when they went tolook for them. Poritol is really very anxious."

  "Doubtless," said Orme.

  "Perhaps," added Alcatrante, after a short wait, "he might even go ashigh as two thousand."

  "Indeed? Then there will surely be many answers to his advertisement."

  "Oh, he will not advertise." Alcatrante laughed. "Already he knows wherethe papers are. While waiting for the clue of the bill, he discoveredwhat others had already availed themselves of it."

  "That is curious." Orme smiled. "How did he discover that?"

  "In a roundabout way. I won't take time for the story."

  They walked along in silence for a little distance. Orme was figuring onan escape, for the minister's clutch on his arm was like that of adrowning man's. Finally he sought the simplest means of getting away. "Ihave an engagement," he said. "I shall have to leave you here. Thank youfor walking with me thus far." He disengaged his arm.

  "My dear Mr. Orme," said Alcatrante, "why should we beat around thebush?"

  "Why, indeed?" said Orme.

  "Poritol knows that his papers are in your possession. Speaking for him,I offer you five thousand."

  "Why do you drag Poritol into this?" said Orme. "You know that he hasmerely been your agent from the start. You think he has bungled, but Itell you, you are the one who bungled, for you picked him to do the work.He had bad luck hiring a burglar for you. He lost his head when he ranaway with another person's motor-car and had to hand the marked bill to acountry justice. He showed bad judgment when he tried to fool me with afancy lie. But you are the real bungler, Senhor Alcatrante. Any capablediplomat could tell you that."

  Alcatrante's yellow face grew white about the lips. His eyes flashedbalefully.

  "Curse you!" he exclaimed. "You know more than is good for you. Takecare!"

  Orme laughed in disgust. "Oh, drop this melodrama. I am not afraid ofcheap Machiavellis. In this country there are some crimes that are notexcused by high office."

  The minister's teeth showed. "You shall see, my young friend."

  "Doubtless. But let me tell you one thing; if anything happens to me, myfriends will know where to look for the criminal."

  Alcatrante snarled. "Don't be too sure----"

  "If necessary," continued Orme, "a word to certain persons as to thecommission for building warships--Five hundred thousand, is it not? bythe new arrangement--in gold----"

  Alcatrante, in ungovernable rage, raised his light cane and struck. Ormefended the blow with his arm, then wrenched the cane away and threw itinto the street. A swarm of passers-by gathered about them so quicklythat in a moment they were the center of a circle.

  "You dunce," said Orme. "Do you want the police?"

  "No," muttered Alcatrante, controlling himself with a great effort. "Youare right." He darted into the crowd at one side, and Orme, quick to takethe hint, disappeared in the opposite direction, crossing the street andjumping into an empty cab, which had drawn up in anticipation of a fight.

  "To the Rookery," he ordered, naming the first office-building that cameinto his head.

  "Sure," said the driver, and away they rattled.

  A glance back showed Orme that the crowd was dispersing.

  At a distance was Alcatrante. He had seen Orme's escape, and was lookingabout vainly for another cab. But cabs are not numerous on North ParkerStreet, and Orme, so far as he could tell, was not followed.

  When his cab drew up at the busy entrance on La Salle Street, he foundhis way to the nearest public telephone. The hour was close to five, andhe must discover quickly where he could find the girl. He called up thePere Marquette. "This is Mr. Orme," he explained to the clerk. "Havethere been any calls or messages for me?"

  "Yes, sir, Mr. and Mrs. Wallingham called up at twelve-thirty to know ifyou were going to Arradale with them."

  The golfing engagement! Orme had not even thought of it since the eveningbefore.

  "Anything else?"

  "Yes, sir. A Japanese came about one o'clock. He left no name."

  "The same man who came last evening?"

  "No, sir, an older man."

  The Japanese minister had doubtless gone straight from Arima's apartmentto the Pere Marquette. "Anything else?" asked Orme.

  "There was a 'phone call for you about eleven o'clock. The party left noname."

  "A woman's voice?"

  "Yes, sir. She said: 'Tell Mr. Orme that I shall not be able to call himup at noon, but will try to do so as near two o'clock as possible.'"

  "Did she call up again at two?"

  "No, sir. There's no record of it."

  Orme understood. In the interval after her attempt to reach him she hadlearned at Arima's of his seeming treachery. "Very well," he said to theclerk, and hung up the receiver.

  What should he do now? The girl had given him up. He did not know hername or where to find her, and yet find her he must and that within thenext few hours. The unquestionably great importance of the papers in hispocket had begun to weigh on him heavily. He was tempted to take themout, there in the telephone-booth, and examine them for a clue. Thecircumstances justified him.

  But--he had promised the girl! Stronger than
his curiosity, strongeralmost than his wish to deliver the papers, was his desire to keep thatpromise. It may have been foolish, quixotic; but he resolved to continueas he had begun. "At ten o'clock," he said to himself, "if I have notfound her, I will look at the papers or go to the police--do whatever isnecessary." He did not like to break promises or miss engagements.

  There was his engagement with the Wallinghams. It had absolutely gonefrom his mind. Bessie would forgive him, of course. She was a sensiblelittle woman, and she would know that his failure to appear was due tosomething unavoidable and important, but Orme's conscience bothered him alittle because he had not, before setting out that morning, telephoned toher that he might be detained.

  Bessie Wallingham! She knew the girl! Why had he not thought of thatbefore?

  He got the Wallinghams' number. Were they at home? No, they had gone toArradale and would probably remain until the last evening train. He rangoff.

  It remained to try Arradale. After some delay, he got the clubhouse. Mrs.Wallingham? Yes, she had just come in. Would Mr. Orme hold the wire?

  Mr. Orme certainly would, and presently he was rewarded for the delay byhearing Bessie's brisk little voice.

  "Hello?"

  "Who?"

  "Bob?"

  "Well you ought to be ashamed of yourself; we waited over and took thenext train."

  "Oh, yes, I know all about these very busy people."

  "Nonsense! I was fooling, of course. But we were sorry you didn't come."

  "What?"

  "That girl? Why, what's the matter with you, Robert Orme?"

  "Business importance? That won't do, Bob. You'll have to 'fess up."

  "Do I know such a girl? Are you serious?"

  "Why, Bob, I can think of several. Shall I name them?"

  "Not give their names! What on earth is the matter with you?"

  "Oh, part of the business, is it? Well, let me see. Tall and beautiful,you say. Dark eyes and hair. A black touring-car. Hum! I know, threegirls to whom the description applies. It might be--but you don't wish meto mention the name. Well, you'll have to think of something moredistinctive."

  Orme thought in vain. The image of the girl was ever in his mind, butdescribe her he could not. At last he said: "The girl I mean lives in oneof the suburbs. She has a father who has lately undergone a slightoperation. He is, I think, a man who is involved in negotiations withother countries."

  "Oh! Where did you meet her? Why, Bob, how interesting! I never thoughtof her, but she's one of my dearest friends."

  "Now, listen, Bessie. It is absolutely necessary that I should reach herfather's house before midnight. You must help me."

  He heard her laugh. "Help you? Of course I will."

  "Where does she live?"

  "Not very far from Arradale. Bob, you come right out here. I will see tothe rest. It certainly is the funniest coincidence."

  "I'll catch the first train."

  "There's one at six--for men who come out to dine."

  "All right. Expect me. Good-by."

  Orme looked at his watch. He had an hour and a half--which meant thattime must be killed. It would be unwise to return to the Pere Marquette,for the South Americans and the Japanese might both be on watch for himthere. But he did not care to wander about the streets, with the chanceof coming face to face with some of his enemies. It was obvious thatswift and elaborate machinery would be set in motion to catch him. Ofcourse, there were many places where he could conceal himself for anhour, but----

  Tom Wallingham's office! Why had he not thought of that before? Tom wasat Arradale with Bessie, but the clerks would let Orme stay in thereception-room until it was time to start for his train. Indeed, Ormeremembered that Bixby, the head clerk, had been at the wedding of Tom andBessie--had in fact taken charge of the arrangements at the church.

  Moreover, Tom's office was in this very building--the Rookery. Doubtlessit was for this reason that the Rookery had popped into his head when hegave directions to the cab-driver on North Parker Street.

  Hurrying to the elevators, Orme was about to enter the nearest one, whensuddenly a hand seized his elbow and pulled him to one side. He turnedquickly and saw--Alcatrante.

  The minister was breathing rapidly. It was plain that he had made a quickpursuit, but though his chest heaved and his mouth was partly open, hiseyes were curiously steady. "One minute, Mr. Orme," he said, forcing hislips to a smile. "I had hard work to follow you. There was no other cab,but a small boy told me that you directed your driver to the Rookery.Therefore, I got on a street-car and rode till I found a cab." He saidall this in the most casual tone, retaining his hold on Orme's elbow asthough his attitude were familiar and friendly. Perhaps he was thusdetailing his own adventures merely to gain time; or perhaps he wasendeavoring to puzzle Orme.

  But Orme was simply annoyed. He knew how dangerous Alcatrante could be."I am tired of being followed, Senhor," he said disgustedly, freeing hiselbow.

  Alcatrante continued to smile. "That is part of the game," he said.

  "Then you will find the game serious." Orme shut his lips together andglanced about for a policeman.

  Alcatrante again grasped his elbow. "Do you want publicity?" he asked."Your principals do not. Publicity will injure us all."

  Orme had been given enough light to know that the South American's wordswere true.

  "If it comes to publicity," continued Alcatrante with an ugly grin, "Iwill have you arrested for stealing a certain important--document andoffering to sell it to me."

  "Rubbish!" laughed Orme. "That would never work at all. Too many personsunderstand my part in this matter. And then"--as he noticed the flash oftriumph in Alcatrante's eyes--"I could not be arrested for stealing adocument which was not in my possession." It was too late; Alcatrante hadbeen able to verify his strong suspicion that Orme had the papers.

  A wave of anger swept over Orme. "Publicity or no publicity," he said,"unless this annoyance stops, I will have you arrested."

  Alcatrante smiled. "That would not pay, Mr. Orme. There would becounter-charges and you would be much delayed--perhaps even till aftermidnight to-night. You Americans do not know how to play at diplomacy,Mr. Orme."

  Controlling himself, Orme hurried quickly to the nearest elevator. He hadtimed his action; the starter was just about to close the door as hehurried in. But quick though he was, Alcatrante was close behind him. Theagile South American squeezed into the elevator by so close a margin thatthe door caught his coat.

  "Here! What you tryin' to do?" shouted the starter.

  Alcatrante, pressing in against Orme, did not reply.

  The starter jerked the door open, and glared at Alcatrante. The steadyand undisturbed eye of the minister had its effect, and after a moment ofhesitation the starter banged the door shut and gave the signal and thecar leaped upward.

  Tom Wallingham's office was on the eighth floor. Though he knew thatAlcatrante would cling to him, Orme could think of nothing better to dothan to go straight to the office and count on the assistance of Bixby,who would certainly remember him. Accordingly he called out "Eight!" and,ignoring Alcatrante, left the elevator and walked down the hall, theSouth American at his elbow.

  They passed a long series of doors, the glass panels of which wereinscribed, "The Wallingham Company--Private," with index-fingers pointingthe direction of the main entrance. This was the Chicago branch of thegreat New York Corporation, and Thomas Wallingham, senior, had placed hisson in charge of it two years before. The business was the manufacturingof refrigerators. One side of the reception-room which Orme enteredhurriedly, Alcatrante still beside him, was given over to a largespecimen refrigerator chamber, built in with glistening white tiles. Themassive door, three feet thick, was wide open, showing the spotless innerchamber. In the outer wall was a thermometer dial fully a foot indiameter.

  Once inside the reception-room, Orme stopped and looked again atAlcatrante. There was menace in the look, but the South American did notflinch. Indeed, the glance which met his ow
n seemed to Orme to bedisarmingly good-natured. Its essence was a humorous recognition that thesituation had its ridiculous side.

  But Orme, knowing that much was at stake, did not for an instant trusthis unwelcome companion. Alcatrante would cling to him like an Old Man ofthe Sea, awaiting the opportunity to get the better of him. Every wilewould be employed; but publicity was no part of the game--Orme beganreally to believe that.

  To shake off Alcatrante, perhaps there was no better way than to lure himto some deserted place and overpower him. But would not Alcatrante belikely to have anticipated such a move? And would he not resort todesperate measures of his own before Orme could put his own plans intopractice? Bixby might help.

  Orme walked over to the inquiry-window. "I want to see Mr. Bixby," hesaid, offering his card.

  The young woman behind the window took the card, but at the same time shesaid: "Mr. Bixby left a few minutes ago. He won't be back to-day. Shall Ikeep the card for him?"

  "It doesn't matter, thank you," he said, turning away. Luck was againsthim. Besides Bixby no one in that office knew him.

  Alcatrante smiled genially. "Since Mr. Bixby is absent," he remarked,"shall we leave the verification of the notes until to-morrow?"

  "What are you talking about?" exclaimed Orme.

  "Why"--Alcatrante's face was the picture of astonishment--"the WallinghamCompany notes, of course. The notes you wish to sell me." His voice wasraised so that the girl behind the window could not help hearing.

  "Rot!" said Orme.

  "What?" A note of indignation crept into Alcatrante's voice. "Are youevading? Perhaps you thought I would not insist on the verification."Another clerk, a man, had joined the girl behind the window. Alcatrantesuddenly addressed him. "This Mr. Orme told me that he needed to raisemoney and would transfer to me cheap some notes signed by your company. Imet him at the hotel. He said that, if I would come here with him, hewould show the notes and have them verified. I don't understand."

  The clerk left the window and, opening a door, came into thereception-room. "What are the notes you have?" he asked.

  "I have none," replied Orme, in disgust. "I have never pretended to haveany. This man is crazy, I think." He pointed to Alcatrante. "He hasfollowed me here uninvited for reasons of his own. I asked for Mr. Bixby,whom I know. I would have asked for Mr. Wallingham, my personal friend,but that I had already learned of his being at Arradale."

  "There's funny business here somewhere," exclaimed Alcatrante, with greatearnestness. "Do you mean to say that you did not introduce yourself tome in the lobby of the Framington and ask me to buy the notes?"

  Orme did not answer.

  With a conservative eye the clerk looked at the two. He was not one toinvolve himself in a dubious affair.

  "I can't settle this matter for you, gentlemen," he said.

  With a slight bow, Orme went into the hall. It dawned upon him whyAlcatrante had invented so remarkable a story. Without question, theminister had feared that Orme would enlist aid in the office, or that atleast he would manage to deposit the coveted papers in safety while hefound other means to get rid of his shadow. Hence the sudden effort todiscredit Orme.

  In the long corridor Orme gave no further attention to Alcatrante, whowas pattering along beside him. The course he now had in mind was to hirea cab and ride out of the city--all the way to Arradale, if possible. Thedistance could not be much greater than fifteen miles. If Alcatrantechose to pursue, well and good. There would be ways of disposing of him.

  Then an audacious notion flashed into Orme's mind. Why not let Alcatranteride with him? Why not take the minister all the way to his destinationand at the end turn him over as a prisoner?

  The idea was hardly practicable. He might meet other enemies, and in thatevent he would not care to have an enemy already at his side. It came tohim for the first time that the nearer he approached his goal, thegreater would be the opposition he would have to overcome. Whatever elsethe South Americans and Japanese might do, they would have their guardsabout the house of the girl's father. Hitherto he had assumed that, oncefree of Alcatrante and safe on the train to Arradale, he would have plaingoing; but now he realized that the dangers would pile up higher as headvanced. In any event, he must get rid of Alcatrante, and as theyapproached the elevator grills, he spoke.

  "Senhor," he said, "unless you stop following me, I shall be obliged tohurt you. I give you fair warning."

  Alcatrante laughed. "If you hurt me, as you threaten, you will findyourself in difficulties. You will be arrested, and you will have noopportunity to deliver the documents on time. My position as minister--myextra-territoriality--will make it very difficult for you to extricateyourself."

  Orme looked grimly down into the sallow face. "My fist against yourchin," he said, "might do it."

  Alcatrante did not lose his smile. "You will hardly try that, I think.There would not be time for you to get away. People in these passingelevators would see you."

  Orme turned away and pressed the "down" button, and a few seconds later adescending car stopped. He pushed his way in, Alcatrante after him.

  The elevator was crowded. Clerks and stenographers were beginning toleave their offices, for the hour was nearly five. Orme wedged his way inat one side and, in order to gain a momentary sense of seclusion, turnedhis back upon the persons who were pressing against him and stood withface to the side of the cage, looking through the scroll-work of thegrating to the swiftly ascending cables in the next well. He wasconscious that Alcatrante stood close to him as the car began to slipdownward. It was all very ridiculous, this persistent pursuit of him.

  Suddenly Alcatrante's voice burst out, "Stop the car! I've been robbed!Stop the car!"

  There was immediate commotion; a girl screamed, and the swaying of thehuddled group made the car rattle. The elevator-man quickly threw overhis lever. The car stopped with a jerk, between floors.

  Orme had started to turn with the others, but with a quick exclamation hechecked his movement and pressed his face again to the grating. Aremarkable thing had happened. The ascending car in the next well hadstopped at Alcatrante's outcry. The few passengers it was carrying, eagerto see what was happening, hurried to the side nearest to Orme. Less thantwo feet from his face was the face of a girl. Almost before he saw herat all he knew her. He forgot that he had given her apparent cause todoubt him; he did not stop to wonder what she was doing in this building.

  "Girl!" he whispered.

  Her lips parted; her eyes opened wider.

  "Girl! Go to Tom Wallingham's office. I'll come up there. Keep out ofsight when you hear me coming. Alcatrante is with me."

  She nodded.

  "I have the papers," he added, and his heart thumped happily when he sawjoy and gratitude flash into her eyes.

  From his position and manner he might have been explaining to her whatwas happening in his own car. But now, conscious of the necessity oftaking part in the discussion about him, he reluctantly turned away fromthe girl.

  Alcatrante was still exclaiming volubly. His purse had disappeared. Ithad been in his pocket just before he entered the car. Therefore someonein the car must have taken it. He did not accuse any single person,though he flashed suspicious glances at Orme, who recognized, of course,that the move was directed against himself.

  To embarrass Orme with arrest and detention would well suit the purposesof Alcatrante. At this late hour such an event would prevent the deliveryof the papers. Orme wondered whether the minister had realized that thepapers might be found by the police and disposed of properly. Theexplanation of this apparent oversight on the part of Alcatrante was notdifficult, however, for, perhaps it was not a part of the plan that Ormeshould be actually thrown into a cell. It was more likely that an arrestwould be followed, after as much delay as Alcatrante could secure, by arefusal to prosecute. One advantage to Alcatrante would be theopportunity of getting assistance while Orme was in the hands of thepolice so that after the prisoner was released he would have more thanone person to co
ntend with. Alcatrante would give up acting alone.

  "Somebody has my purse!" Alcatrante was shouting. "Somebody here! Youmust not let anybody out!"

  The elevator-boy had been gaping in seeming paralysis, but now several ofthe passengers--men who doubtless were sure of their positions--wereangrily ordering him to take the car down. Some of them had trains tocatch.

  "No! No!" screamed Alcatrante.

  Orme had kept out of the discussion, but now he spoke quietly. "I think,Senhor Alcatrante"--he uttered the name distinctly, knowing that theSouth American probably did not wish himself identified--"I think that,if the boy will take the car almost to the bottom, the starter will helpyou."

  There was a chorus of seconds to this suggestion. The boy pulled thelever and let the car descend slowly, while Alcatrante continued toexclaim.

  How would the South American try to throw suspicion where he wished it?Orme puzzled over this question, for certainly the police would notarrest all the passengers. And then he suddenly remembered how Alcatrantehad crowded against him when they entered the car.

  A cold wave of horror swept over him. Was it possible that----?

  He put his hand into the left side pocket of his coat. Something wasthere that did not belong there--a smooth, bulging purse. Alcatrante hadput it there.

  Orme fingered the purse. He would have to get rid of it, but he dared notto drop it to the floor, and if he thrust it through the grating and letit fall into the elevator well, someone would be almost certain to detectthe action. There was only a moment left before the car would stop. Helooked down at Alcatrante, who was close in front of him. Then his facerelaxed and in spite of the gravity of his situation he smiled; for hehad found a solution. Promptly he acted upon it.

  The car halted just below the ceiling of the first floor. "What's thematter with you?" called a voice--the voice of the starter.

  "Man robbed," said the elevator-boy.

  "Bring the car down."

  "No!" shouted Alcatrante. "The thief is in the car. He must not escape."

  "I won't let him out. Bring the car down."

  The boy let the car descend to the floor level. The starter placedhimself against the gate. "Now then, who was robbed?" he demanded.

  Alcatrante crowded forward. "It was I. My purse is gone. I had it justbefore I got in."

  "Oh, it was you, was it?" The starter remembered the trouble Alcatrantehad made a few minutes before. "Sure you didn't drop it?"

  "I am certain that I did not."

  The passengers were shuffling their feet about, in a vain effort to touchthe lost property. A young girl was giggling hysterically.

  "Perhaps you put it in the wrong pocket, and didn't look careful enough."

  "I looked, I looked," exclaimed Alcatrante. "Do you think I would notknow. See! I put it in this pocket, which now is empty."

  He thrust his hand into the pocket which he had indicated. Suddenly hisexpression changed to astonishment.

  "Find it?" grinned the starter.

  With the blankest of looks Alcatrante pulled the purse from his pocket."It was not there two minutes ago," he muttered.

  "You've been dreamin'," remarked the starter, opening the gate with abang. "All out!"

  Orme chuckled to himself. In a moment Alcatrante would realize how thepurse had been replaced in his pocket, and he would be furious. MeantimeOrme entered another elevator, to go back to the eighth floor, and, as hehad expected, the minister followed him.

  When they were outside the office of the Wallingham Company, Orme paused,his hand on the door. "Senhor Alcatrante," he said, "this business mustend. I shall simply have to call the police."

  "At your own risk," said Alcatrante. Then an ugly light flashed in hiseyes and his upper lip lifted above his yellow teeth. "You got the betterof me there in the elevator," he snarled. "You won't get the betteragain."

  Orme opened the office-door. He glanced about the reception-room, to seewhether the girl had hidden herself. She was not in view; indeed, therewas even no one at the inquiry-window. Orme reasoned that at this hoursome of the clerks might be leaving--which would mean, perhaps, that theywere first putting away their books. At least they would not be expectingbusiness callers.

  The door of the great sample refrigerator was ajar only two or threefeet. When Orme was there a few minutes before it had been wide open. Hewondered whether the girl had chosen it as her hiding-place. If she had,his plan of action would be simplified, for he would slip the papers into her, then get Alcatrante from the room.

  In a casual way he folded his arms. He could now put his hand into hisinside coat-pocket and the motion would hardly be noticed.

  For a moment he stood as though waiting for someone to appear at theinquiry-window. Though Alcatrante was watching him closely, Ormecontinued to act as if he were the only person in the room.

  And now the dial of the big thermometer in the outer wall of therefrigerator appeared to catch his eye, and he strolled over to it. Thisplaced him almost in the open doorway. Apparently his eyes were on thedial, but in reality he was glancing sidewise into the chamber of therefrigerator. He glimpsed a moving figure in there--heard a faintrustling. Thrusting his hand into the inside of his coat, he was about totake out the precious papers to pass them in to her.

  Then he received a violent push from behind. He plunged forward, trippedwith one foot on the sill of the refrigerator doorway, and went inheadlong, sprawling on the tiled floor. His clutching hand caught thefold of a woman's skirt. Then, though he remained conscious, everythingsuddenly turned black.

  Bewildered as he was, several seconds passed before he realized that themassive door had been closed--that he and the girl were prisoners.