The War Terror

by Arthur B. Reeve

  CHAPTER XXI

  THE POISON BRACELET

  We reached the Blake mansion and were promptly admitted. Miss Betty,bearing up bravely under Reginald's reassurances, greeted us before wewere fairly inside the door, though she and her brother were not ableto conceal the fact that their mother was no better. Miss Sears wasout, for an airing, and the new nurse, Miss Rogers, was in charge ofthe patient.

  "How do you feel, this morning?" inquired Kennedy as we entered thesun-parlor, where Mrs. Blake had first received us.

  A single glance was enough to satisfy me of the seriousness of hercondition. She seemed to be in almost a stupor from which she rousedherself only with difficulty. It was as if some overpowering toxin weregradually undermining her already weakened constitution.

  She nodded recognition, but nothing further.

  Kennedy had set the dog basket down near her wheel-chair and she caughtsight of it.

  "Buster?" she murmured, raising her eyes. "Is--he--all right?"

  For answer, Craig simply raised the lid of the basket. Buster alreadyseemed to have recognized the voice of his mistress, and, with analmost human instinct, to realize that though he himself was still weakand ill, she needed encouragement.

  As Mrs. Blake stretched out her slender hand, drawn with pain, to hissilky head, he gave a little yelp of delight and his little red tongueeagerly caressed her hand.

  It was as though the two understood each other. Although Mrs. Blake, asyet, had no more idea what had happened to her pet, she seemed to feelby some subtle means of thought transference that the intelligentlittle animal was conveying to her a message of hope. The caress, thesharp, joyous yelp, and the happy wagging of the bushy tail seemed tobrighten her up, at least for the moment, almost as if she had receiveda new impetus.

  "Buster!" she exclaimed, overjoyed to get her pet back again in so muchimproved condition.

  "I wouldn't exert myself too much, Mrs. Blake," cautioned Kennedy.

  "Were--were there any germs in the letter?" she asked, as Reginald andBetty stood on the other side of the chair, much encouraged,apparently, at this show of throwing off the lethargy that had seizedher.

  "Yes, but about as harmless as those would be on a piece of cheese,"Kennedy hastened. "But I--I feel so weak, so played out--and my head--"

  Her voice trailed off, a too evident reminder that her improvement hadbeen only momentary and prompted by the excitement of our arrival.

  Betty bent down solicitously and made her more comfortable as only onewoman can make another. Kennedy, meanwhile, had been talking to MissRogers, and I could see that he was secretly taking her measure.

  "Has Dr. Wilson been here this morning?" I heard him ask.

  "Not yet," she replied. "But we expect her soon."

  "Professor Kennedy?" announced a servant.

  "Yes?" answered Craig.

  "There is someone on the telephone who wants to speak to you. He saidhe had called the laboratory first and that they told him to call youhere."

  Kennedy hurried after the servant, while Betty and Reginald joined me,waiting, for we seemed to feel that something was about to happen.

  "One of the unofficial detectives has unearthed a clue," he whisperedto me a few moments later when he returned. "It was Garwood." Then tothe others he added, "A car, repainted, and with the number changed,but otherwise answering the description of Dr. Wilson's has been tracedto the West Side. It is somewhere in the neighborhood of a saloon andgarage where drivers of taxicabs hang out. Reginald, I wish you wouldcome along with us."

  To Betty's unspoken question Craig hastened to add, "I don't thinkthere is any immediate danger. If there is any change--let me know. Ishall call up soon. And meanwhile," he lowered his voice to impress theinstruction on her, "don't leave your mother for a moment--not for amoment," he emphasized.

  Reginald was ready and together we three set off to meet Garwood at asubway station near the point where the car had been reported. We hadscarcely closed the front door, when we ran into Duncan Baldwin, comingdown the street, evidently bent on inquiring how Mrs. Blake and Bettywere.

  "Much better," reassured Kennedy. "Come on, Baldwin. We can't have toomany on whom we can rely on an expedition like this."

  "Like what?" he asked, evidently not comprehending.

  "There's a clue, they think, to that car of Dr. Wilson's," hastilyexplained Reginald, linking his arm into that of his friend and fallingin behind us, as Craig hurried ahead.

  It did not take long to reach the subway, and as we waited for thetrain, Craig remarked: "This is a pretty good example of how theautomobile is becoming one of the most dangerous of criminal weapons.All one has to do nowadays, apparently, after committing a crime, is tojump into a waiting car and breeze away, safe."

  We met Garwood and under his guidance picked our way westward from thebetter known streets in the heart of the city, to a section that wasanything but prepossessing.

  The place which Garwood sought was a typical Raines Law hotel on acorner, with a saloon on the first floor, and apparently the requisitenumber of rooms above to give it a legal license.

  We had separated a little so that we would not attract undue attention.Kennedy and I entered the swinging doors boldly, while the otherscontinued across to the other corner to wait with Garwood and take inthe situation. It was a strange expedition and Reginald was fidgetingwhile Duncan seemed nervous.

  Among the group of chauffeurs lounging at the bar and in the back roomanyone who had ever had any dealings with the gangs of New York mighthave recognized the faces of men whose pictures were in the rogues'gallery and who were members of those various aristocraticorganizations of the underworld.

  Kennedy glanced about at the motley crowd. "This is a place where youneed only to be introduced properly," he whispered to me, "to have anykind of crime committed for you."

  As we stood there, observing, without appearing to do so, through anopen window on the side street I could tell from the sounds that therewas a garage in the rear of the hotel.

  We were startled to hear a sudden uproar from the street.

  Garwood, impatient at our delay, had walked down past the garage toreconnoiter. A car was being backed out hurriedly, and as it turned andswung around the corner, his trained eye had recognized it.

  Instantly he had reasoned that it was an attempt to make a getaway, andhad raised an alarm.

  Those nearest the door piled out, keen for any excitement. We, too,dashed out on the street. There we saw passing an automobile, swayingand lurching at the terrific speed with which its driver, urged it upthe avenue. As he flashed by he looked like an Italian to me, perhaps agunman.

  Garwood had impressed a passing trolley car into service and waspursuing the automobile in it, as it swayed on its tracks as crazily asthe motor did on the roadway, running with all the power the motormancould apply.

  A mounted policeman galloped past us, blazing away at the tires. Theavenue was stirred, as seldom even in its strenuous life, with reportsof shots, honking of horns, the clang of trolley bells and the shoutsof men.

  The pursuers were losing when there came a rattle and roar from therear wheels which told that the tires were punctured and the heavy carwas riding on its rims. A huge brewery wagon crossing a side streetpaused to see the fun, effectually blocking the road.

  The car jolted to a stop. The chauffeur leaped out and a moment laterdived down into a cellar. In that congested district, pursuit wasuseless.

  "Only an accomplice," commented Kennedy. "Perhaps we can get him someother way if we can catch the man--or woman--higher up."

  Down the street now we could see Garwood surrounded by a curious crowdbut in possession of the car. I looked about for Duncan and Reginald.They had apparently been swallowed up in the crowds of idlers whichseemed to be pouring out of nowhere, collecting to gape at theexcitement, after the manner of a New York crowd.

  As I ran my eye over them, I caught sight of Reginald near the cornerwhere we had left him in an incipient fight wi
th someone who had afancied grievance. A moment later we had rescued him.

  "Where's Duncan?" he panted. "Did anything happen to him? Garwood toldus to stay here--but we got separated."

  Policemen had appeared on the heels of the crowd and now, except for aknot following Garwood, things seemed to be calming down.

  The excitement over, and the people thinning out, Kennedy still couldnot find any trace of Duncan. Finally he glanced in again through theswinging doors. There was Duncan, evidently quite upset by what hadoccurred, fortifying himself at the bar.

  Suddenly from above came a heavy thud, as if someone had fallen on thefloor above us, followed by a suppressed shuffling of feet and a cry ofhelp.

  Kennedy sprang toward a side door which led out into the hall to thehotel room above. It was locked. Before any of the others he ran out onthe street and into the hall that way, taking the stairs two at a time,past a little cubby-hole of an "office" and down the upper hall to adoor from which came the cry.

  It was a peculiar room into which we burst, half bedroom, halfworkshop, or rather laboratory, for on a deal table by a window stood arack of test-tubes, several beakers, and other paraphernalia.

  A chambermaid was shrieking over a woman who was lying lethargic on thefloor.

  I looked more closely.

  It was Dora Sears.

  For the moment I could not imagine what had happened. Had the events ofthe past few days worked on her mind and driven her into temporaryinsanity? Or had the blackmailing gang of automobile thieves, failingin extorting money by their original plan, seized her?

  Kennedy bent over and tried to lift her up. As he did so, the goldbracelet, unclasped, clattered to the floor.

  He picked it up and for a moment looked at it. It was hollow, but inthat part of it where it unclasped could be seen a minute hypodermicneedle and traces of a liquid.

  "A poison bracelet," he muttered to himself, "one in which enough of avirulent poison could be hidden so that in an emergency death couldcheat the law."

  "But this Dr. Hopf," exclaimed Reginald, who stood behind us lookingfrom the insensible girl to the bracelet and slowly comprehending whatit all meant, "she alone knows where and who he is!"

  We looked at Kennedy. What was to be done? Was the criminal higher upto escape because one of his tools had been cornered and had taken theeasiest way to get out?

  Kennedy had taken down the receiver of the wall telephone in the room.A moment later he was calling insistently for his laboratory. One ofthe students in another part of the building answered. Quickly hedescribed the apparatus for vividiffusion and how to handle it withoutrupturing any of the delicate tubes.

  "The large one," he ordered, "with one hundred and ninety-two tubes.And hurry."

  Before the student appeared, came an ambulance which some one in theexcitement had summoned. Kennedy quickly commandeered both the youngdoctor and what surgical material he had with him.

  Briefly he explained what he proposed to do and before the studentarrived with the apparatus, they had placed the nurse in such aposition that they were ready for the operation.

  The next room which was unoccupied had been thrown open to us and thereI waited with Reginald and Duncan, endeavoring to explain to them themysteries of the new process of washing the blood.

  The minutes lengthened into hours, as the blood of the poisoned girlcoursed through its artificial channel, literally being washed of thetoxin from the poisoned bracelet.

  Would it succeed? It had saved the life of Buster. But would it bringback the unfortunate before us, long enough even for her to yield hersecret and enable us to catch the real criminal. What if she died?

  As Kennedy worked, the young men with me became more and morefascinated, watching him. The vividiffusion apparatus was now in fulloperation.

  In the intervals when he left the apparatus in charge of the youngambulance surgeon Kennedy was looking over the room. In a trunk whichwas open he found several bundles of papers. As he ran his eye overthem quickly, he selected some and stuffed them into his pocket, thenwent back to watch the working of the apparatus.

  Reginald, who had been growing more and more nervous, at last asked ifhe might call up Betty to find out how his mother was.

  He came back from the telephone, his face wrinkled.

  "Poor mother," he remarked anxiously, "do you think she will pullthrough, Professor? Betty says that Dr. Wilson has given her no ideayet about the nature of the trouble."

  Kennedy thought a moment. "Of course," he said, "your mother has had nosuch relative amount of the poison as Buster has had. I think thatundoubtedly she will recover by purely natural means. I hope so. But ifnot, here is the apparatus," and he patted the vividiffusion tubes intheir glass case, "that will save her, too."

  As well as I could I explained to Reginald the nature of the toxin thatKennedy had discovered. Duncan listened, putting in a question now andthen. But it was evident that his thoughts were on something else, andnow and then Reginald, breaking into his old humor, rallied him aboutthinking of Betty.

  A low exclamation from both Kennedy and the surgeon attracted us.

  Dora Sears had moved.

  The operation of the apparatus was stopped, the artery and vein hadbeen joined up, and she was slowly coming out from under the effects ofthe anesthetic.

  As we gathered about her, at a little distance, we heard her cry in herdelirium, "I--I would have--done--anything--for him."

  We strained our ears. Was she talking of the blackmailer, Dr. Hopf?

  "Who?" asked Craig, bending over close to her ear.

  "I--I would--have done anything," she repeated as if someone hadcontradicted her. She went on, dreamily, ramblingly, "He--is--is--mybrother. I--"

  She stopped through weakness.

  "Where is Dr. Hopf?" asked Kennedy, trying to recall her fleetingattention.

  "Dr. Hopf? Dr. Hopf?" she repeated, then smiling to herself as peoplewill when they are leaving the borderline of anesthesia, she repeatedthe name, "Hopf?"

  "Yes," persisted Kennedy.

  "There is no Dr. Hopf," she added. "Tell me--did--did they--"

  "No Dr. Hopf?" Kennedy insisted.

  She had lapsed again into half insensibility.

  He rose and faced us, speaking rapidly.

  "New York seems to have a mysterious and uncanny attraction for oddsand ends of humanity, among them the great army of adventuresses. Infact there often seems to be something decidedly adventurous about thenursing profession. This is a girl of unusual education in medicine.Evidently she has traveled--her letters show it. Many of them show thatshe has been in Italy. Perhaps it was there that she heard of the drugthat has been used in this case. It was she who injected the germ-freetoxin, first into the dog, then into Mrs. Blake, she who wrote theblackmail letter which was to have explained the death."

  He paused. Evidently she had heard dimly, was straining every effort tohear. In her effort she caught sight of our faces.

  Suddenly, as if she had seen an apparition, she raised herself withalmost superhuman strength.

  "Duncan!" she cried. "Duncan! Why--didn't you--get away--while therewas time--after you warned me?"

  Kennedy had wheeled about and was facing us. He was holding in his handsome of the letters he had taken from the trunk. Among others was afolded piece of parchment that looked like a diploma. He unfolded itand we bent over to read.

  It was a diploma from the Central Western College of Nursing. As I readthe name written in, it was with a shock. It was not Dora Sears, butDora Baldwin.

  "A very clever plot," he ground out, taking a step nearer us. "With theaid of your sister and a disreputable gang of chauffeurs you planned tohasten the death of Mrs. Blake, to hasten the inheritance of the Blakefortune by your future wife. I think your creditors will have lesschance of collecting now than ever, Duncan Baldwin."