CHAPTER V PAST AND PRESENT
Several hours later, having quite recovered from his severe headache, andapparently not so very much the worse for the terrible thump he hadreceived on the head, Johnny sat before the open fireplace in Drew Lane'sshack on Grand Avenue. About that same fire were gathered his friends ofother days, Drew Lane, Tom Howe and Joyce Mills. With them was theruddy-faced, smiling Captain Burns, one of the best known and most fearedofficers of the law in that city.
If you have read "Arrow of Fire" you will know that the "Shack" was theone remaining structure of days long gone by when the east end of GrandAvenue--which, after all, has never been very grand--was at the edge of asandy marsh where in the autumn one might hunt wild ducks.
This shack was now surrounded by tall warehouses. Hidden away and quiteforgotten, it made a perfect meeting place for such as Drew Lane and hislittle group of crime hunters.
Drew Lane was still young. With his derby hat, bright tie and natty suit,he looked still very much the college boy he had been. Endowed with greatstrength, trained to the limit, with a brain like a brightly burninglamp, he was the despair of evil doers. Scarcely less effective was histeam-mate, Tom Howe. Small, freckled, active as a cat, silent, full ofthoughts, Tom planned, while, more often than not, Drew executed.
Joyce Mills, as you may know, had become a member of this group quite byaccident. Her father, Newton Mills, after many years of distinguishedservice as a detective in New York, had at last fallen a prey to strongdrink. Johnny and Drew had found him in Chicago drinking his life away.They had saved him to a life of further usefulness. Joyce, deeplygrateful, and always at heart a "lady cop," had cast her lot with them.And now here she was.
"But your father?" Johnny was saying to her at this moment, "where ishe?"
A shadow passed over the girl's dark face. "Haven't seen him for twomonths.
"But then," she added in a lighter tone, "you know him. Gets going onsomething and forgets everything else. He'll show up."
"Yes," Johnny agreed, "he's bound to."
Johnny was thinking of the time the veteran detective had turned himselfinto a gray shadow and had, all unknown, dogged Johnny's heels, savinghim from all manner of terrible deaths. The time was to come, and thatsoon enough, when he was to wish the "Gray Shadow" back on his trail.
"Drew," Johnny said, turning to his sturdy young friend, "I came here themoment I reached the city. How come the place was locked up and dark?"
"Been on a vacation; just got back." Drew's face lighted. "Went to theRockies. Had some wonderful hunting--grizzly bears. Can't say that's moreexciting than hunting crooks, though," he laughed.
"Met a girl you'd like on the way back." Drew Lane turned to Joyce. "Cameon the bus. People in a bus, traveling far, get to be like one bigfamily. Funny part was--" He gave a low chuckle. "She's coming here tohelp her uncle. He has a store on Maxwell Street. Maxwell Street! Can youimagine?"
"Rags, scrap-iron, poultry in crates, fish smells and noise--that's whatMaxwell Street means to me!" Joyce shuddered.
"Just that!" Drew agreed. "This truly nice girl from somewhere in Kansasis going there to help in her uncle's store. She doesn't know a thingabout Chicago. Thinks Maxwell Street is all the same as State Street, I'msure. Believes her uncle's store is anyway six stories high. Well, she'sin for a terrible shock. I feel sorry for her. Have to get round and seeher--gave me the address. She asked me what I did in Chicago." Drewchuckled once more.
"What did you tell her?" Joyce asked.
"Said I looked after people, lots of them."
"And for once you told the truth," Johnny laughed.
"But Johnny!" Joyce exclaimed. "Tell me some more about this 'House ofMagic' you've discovered. Sounds frightfully interesting. We all thoughtyou were a little delirious when you first talked of it. But now--"
"Now you begin to believe me." Johnny's eyes shone. "It's a trulywonderful place."
"Tell us about it." Captain Burns insisted from his corner. "Heard aboutsome of these things before. Shouldn't wonder if they'd do things in theend to lift the load off us poor, over-worked detectives."
"I'll tell you all I know, which isn't much," Johnny agreed.
And here I think we may safely leave our friends for a little time whilewe look in upon Grace Krowl, the girl from somewhere in Kansas. She hadfound her uncle's store on Maxwell Street. And how she had found it!