CHAPTER XIX
THE EAVESDROPPER AGAIN
It took our combined efforts now to take care not only of VioletWinslow but Warrington himself, who was on the verge of collapse afterhis heroic rescue of her.
I found the cab and in perhaps half an hour Miss Winslow was so farrecovered that she could be taken to the hotel where she and her aunthad engaged rooms for the night.
We drew up at an unfrequented side carriage entrance of the hotel inorder to avoid the eyes of the curious and Warrington jumped out toassist Violet. The strain had told on him and in spite of his desire totake care of her, he was glad to let Garrick guide him to the elevator,while I took Miss Winslow's arm to assist her.
Our first object had been to get our two invalids where they could havequiet and so regain their strength and we rode up in the elevator,unannounced, to the suite of Violet and her aunt.
"For heaven's sake--Violet--what's all this?" exclaimed Mrs. de Lanceyas we four entered the room.
It was the first time we had seen the redoubtable Aunt Emma. She was alarge woman, well past middle age, and must have been handsome, ratherthan pretty, when she was younger. Everything about Mrs. de Lancey wascorrect, absolutely correct. Her dress looked like a form into whichshe had been poured, every line and curve being just as it should be,having "set" as if she had been made of reinforced concrete. In short,she was a woman of "force."
An incursion such as we made seemed to pain her correct soul acutely.And yet, I fancied that underneath the marble exterior there was aheart and that secretly she was both proud and jealous of her daintyniece.
Violet sank into a chair and Garrick deposited Warrington, thoroughlyexhausted, on a couch.
Mrs. de Lancey looked sternly at Warrington, as though in some way hemight be responsible. I could not help feeling that she had a peculiarsense of conscientiousness about him, that she was just a bit morestrict in gauging him than she would have been if he had not been thewealthy young Mr. Warrington whom scores and hundreds of mothers andguardians in society would have welcomed for the sake of marriageabledaughters no matter how black and glaring his faults. I was glad to seethe way Warrington took it. He seemed to want to rest not on the meritsof the Warrington blood nor the Warrington gold, but on plain MortimerWarrington himself.
"What HAS happened, Violet?" repeated Mrs. de Lancey.
Violet had, woman-like, in spite of her condition caught the stern lookthat her aunt had shot at Warrington.
"Nothing, now," she replied with a note of defiance. "Lucille--seems tohave been a--a bad woman--friendly with bad men. Mr. Garrick overhearda plot to carry me off and telephoned Mortimer. Fortunately whenMortimer went up home to warn us, he found the letter and knew where Iwas going to-night. Ill as he was, he came all the way to the city,followed me into that house, saved me--even before Mr. Garrick couldget there."
Violet's duenna was considerably mollified, though she tried hard notto admit it. Garrick seized the opportunity and poured forth a briefbut connected story of what had happened.
"Well," exclaimed Mrs. de Lancey as he finished, "you children ought tobe very thankful it isn't worse. Violet, I think I'll call up the housephysician. You certainly need a doctor. And as for you, Mortimer,--youcan't go to your apartment. Violet tells me it is all burned out.There's an empty suite across the hall. I'll telephone the room clerkand engage it for you. And you need a doctor, too. Now--there's goingto be no more foolishness. You're both going to stay right here in thishotel until you're all right. Your mother and I were great friends,Mortimer, when we were girls. I--you must let me PLAY mother--for hersake."
I had been right about Mrs. de Lancey. Her voice softened and I saw acatch in Warrington's throat, too, at the mention of the mother heremembered only hazily as a small boy.
Violet and Warrington exchanged glances. I fancied the wireless said,"We've won the old lady over, at last," for Warrington continued tolook at her, while she blushed a bit, then dropped her eyes to hide ahappy tear.
Mrs. de Lancey was bustling about and I felt sure that in anotherminute every available bellhop in the hotel would be at work. AsWarrington might have said in his slang, "Action is her middle name."
Garrick rose and bade our two patients a hasty good-night, tactfullyforgetting to be offended by their lack of interest now in anythingexcept each other.
"I doubt if they get much chance to be alone--not with that womanmothering them," he smiled to me, drawing me toward the door. "Don'tlet's spoil this chance."
Mrs. de Lancey was busy in the next room, as we stopped to say good-byeto her.
"I--I can't talk to you--now, Mr. Garrick," she cried, with a sudden,unwonted show of emotion, taking both his hands in hers. "You--you'vesaved my girl--there--there's nothing in this world you could have donefor me--greater."
"Mrs. de Lancey," replied Garrick, deftly changing the subject,"there's just one thing. I'm afraid you are--have been, I mean,--alittle hard on Mr. Warrington. He isn't what you think--"
"Mr. Garrick," she returned, in a sudden burst of confidence, "I'mafraid you, too, misunderstand me. I am not hard on the boy. But,remember. I knew his mother and father--intimately. Think of it,sir--the responsibilities that rest on that young man. Do you wonderthat I--I want him better than others? Don't you see--that is why Iwant to hold him up to the highest standard. If Violet--marries him,"she seemed to choke over the word,--"they must meet tests that ordinarypeople never know. Don't you understand? I've seen other young men andother young women in our circle--they were our babies once--I've seenthem--go down. But I--I am proud. The Winslows, yes, and theWarringtons, they,--they SHAN'T go down--not while I have an ounce ofstrength or a grain of sanity. Nothing--nothing but the best that is inus--counts."
I think Mrs. de Lancey and Garrick understood each other perfectlyafter that. He said nothing, in fact did not need to say anything, forhe looked it.
"I feel that I can safely resign my job as guardian," was all heremarked, finally. "Neither of them could be in better hands. Only,keep that boy quiet a few days. You can do it better than I can--youand Miss Winslow. Trust me to do the rest."
A moment later we were passing out through the hotel lobby, as Garrickglanced at his watch.
"A wonderful woman, after all," he mused, in the manner of one whorevises an estimate formed hastily on someone else's hearsay. "Well,it's too late to do anything more to-night. I suppose those papers areprinted down at the Star. We'll stop and get them in the morning. Didyou recognise the voice over the vocaphone?"
"I can't say I did," I confessed.
"Perhaps you aren't used to it and things sound too metallic to you.But I did. It was the Chief."
"I suspected as much," I replied. "Where do you suppose he went?"
Garrick shrugged his shoulders.
"I doubt whether we could find him in New York to-night," he answered,slowly. "I think he must feel by this time that the town is getting toohot for him."
There was nothing that I could say, and I played the part admirably.
"Come," he decided, as he turned from the hotel in the direction, now,of our apartment. "Let's snatch a little rest. We'll need it to-morrowfor the final spurt."
Tired and exhausted though I was I cannot say that I slept. At least,it may have been physical rest that I got. Certainly my mind neverstopped in its dream play, as the kaleidoscopic stream of events passedbefore me, now in their true form, now in the fantastic shapes thatconstitute one of the most interesting studies of the modern psychology.
I was glad when I heard Garrick stirring in his room in the earlydaylight and heard him call out, "Are you awake, Tom? There are somethings I want to attend to, while you drop into the Star for thosepapers. I'm afraid you'll have to breakfast alone. Meet me at my officeas soon as you can."
He was off a few minutes later, as fresh as though he had been on avacation instead of plunged into the fight of his life. I followed him,more leisurely, and then rode down in the infernal jam in the subway toexecute his commis
sion.
Then for an hour or two I fidgeted impatiently in his office waitingfor him, until finally he came downtown in the racing car whichWarrington had placed at his disposal.
He said nothing, but it was all the same to me. I had reached thatnervous state where I craved something doing, as a drug-fiend cravesthe dope that sets his brain on fire again.
I did not ask where he was going, for I knew it intuitively, and it wasnot long before we were again in the part of the city where thegangster's garage was located.
We stopped and Garrick beckoned to an urchin, a couple of blocks belowthe garage.
"Do you want to make a dollar, kid?" he asked, jingling four quartersenticingly.
The boy's eyes never left the fist that held the tempting bait."Betcherlife," he answered.
"Well, then," instructed Garrick, "take these newspapers. I don't wantyou to sell any of them on the street. But when you come to that garageover there--see it?--I want you to yell, 'Extra--special extra! Allabout the great gambling exposure. Warrants out!' Just go in there.They'll buy, all right. And if you say a word about anyone giving youthese papers to sell--I'll chase you and get back this dollar to thelast cent. You'll go to the Gerry Society--get me?"
The boy did. The bait was as alluring as the threat terrible. AfterGarrick had given him final instructions not to start with the papersfor at least five minutes, we slipped quietly around the next streetand came out near the Old Tavern, but not in front of it.
Garrick left the car--I had been riding almost on the mud guard--incharge of Warrington's man, who was to appear to be tinkering with theengine as an excuse for waiting there, and to keep an eye on anythingthat happened down the street.
We made our way into our room at the Tavern with more than ordinarycaution, for fear that something might have been discovered.Apparently, however, the discovery of one detectaphone had been enoughto disarm further suspicion, and the garage keeper had not thought itnecessary to examine the telephone wires to see whether they had beentampered with in any way. The wire which he had thought led to thewarehouse had seemed quite sufficient to explain everything.
In the room which we had used so much, we found the other detectaphoneworking splendidly. Garrick picked it up.
By the sound, evidently, someone in the garage was overhauling a car.It may have been that they were fixing one up so that its rightfulowner would never recognize it, or they may have been getting ready totake one out. There was no way of determining.
We could hear one of the workmen helping about the car, a man whom wehad listened to when the instrument first introduced us to the place.The second machine, connected with the telephone, did not transmitquite as clearly as the broken detective device had done, but it servedand, besides, we could both hear through this and could confirmanything that might be indistinct to either of us alone.
"The Chief has gone up-state," remarked Garrick, piecing together theconversation where we had broken into it.
"We had to hustle to make that boat," remarked a voice which Irecognised as that of one of the men.
"But she got off all right, didn't she?"
"Sure--he had the tickets and everything, and her baggage had alreadygone aboard."
"That's Lucille, I suppose," supplied Garrick. "No doubt part of herbribe for getting Miss Winslow into their power was free passage backto France. We can't stop to take up her case, yet."
"My--but the Chief was mad," continued the voice of the man who musthave been not only a machinist but a chauffeur when occasion demanded."He had a package of letters. I don't know what they were--looked as ifthey might be from some woman."
"What did he do with them?" asked the Boss in a tone that showed thathe knew something, at least, about them already.
"Why, he was so mad after that fellow Garrick and the other fellow beathim out, that when we went down along West Street to the boat with thatother woman, he tore them up and threw them in the river."
"Did he say anything?"
"Why, I tell you he was mad. He tore 'em up and threw them in theriver. I think he said there wasn't a damn thing in 'em except a lot ofmush, anyhow."
An amused smile crossed Garrick's face as he added, parenthetically,"Good-bye to Warrington's love letters that they took from his safe."
"At least there has been nothing they managed to get that night of thefire that they have been able to use against Warrington," I remarked,with satisfaction.
"Listen," cautioned Garrick. "What's that they are saying? Someone hastold the Boss--he's talking--that they can go over Dillon's head andget back all the gambling paraphernalia? Well, I've been there, at theraided place, to-day, and it doesn't look so. The stuff has all beentaken down to headquarters. Ah, so that is the game that is in thewind, is it? Get it all back by a court order and open somewhere else.Here's our boy."
The improvised newsboy had apparently stuck his head in the door as hehad been instructed, for we could hear them greet him with a growl,until he yelled lustily, "Extry, special extry! All about the biggambling exposure! Warrants out! Extry!"
"Hey, you kid," came a voice from the detectaphone, "let's see thatpaper. What is it--the Star? Well, I'll be--! Read that. Someone'ssnitched to the district attorney, I'll bet. That'll make the Chiefsore, all right--and he's 'way up in the country, too. I don't darewire it to him. No, someone'll have to take a copy of this paper upthere to him and tip him off. He'll be redheaded if he doesn't knowabout it. He was the last time anything happened. Hurry up. Finish withthis car. I'll take it myself."
Garrick laughed, almost gleefully.
"The plant has begun to work," he cried. "We'll wait here until justbefore he's ready to start. Three of us around our car on the streetare too many. He must be getting ready for a long run."
"How much gas is there in this tank?" the gruff voice of the Bossdemanded. "You dummy--not two gallons! No, you finish what you'redoing. I'll fill it myself. There isn't any time for fooling now."
There was the steady trickle of the stream of gasoline as he drew it.
"Any extra tires? What! Not a new shoe in the place? Give me a coupleof the best of those old ones. Never mind. Here are two over by thetelephone. Say, what the devil is this wire back here--cut in on thetelephone wire? Well,--rip it out! That's some more of that fellowGarrick's work. We got rid of one thing the other night. Well, thankheaven, I didn't have any telephone calls to-day. While I'm gone, yougo over this place thoroughly. God knows how many other things he mayhave put in here."
"Confound it!" muttered Garrick, as a pair of pliers made our seconddetectaphone die with an expiring gasp in the middle of a sentence ofprofanity.
"Come on, Tom," he shouted.
There was no use now in remaining any longer in the room. Gathering upthe receiving apparatus, Garrick quickly carried it down and tossed itinto the waiting car around the corner. Then he sent Warrington's manto hang around, up the street, and watch what was going on at thegarage.
Garrick was to drive the car himself, and we were going to leaveWarrington's man behind. We could tell by the actions of the man as hestood down the street that something was taking place at the garage.
We could hear a horn blow, and I knew that the doors had opened and abig car had been backed out, slowly. Our own engine was runningperfectly in spite of the seeming trouble with which we had covered upour delay. Garrick jumped in at the wheel, and I followed. The man onthe corner was signalling that the car was going in the oppositedirection. We leaped ahead.
As the big car ahead slipped along eastward, we followed at such adistance as not to attract attention. It was easy enough to do that,but not so easy to avoid getting tied up among the trucks laden withfoodstuffs of every description which blocked the streets over in thispart of town.
Where the car ahead was bound, we did not know, but I could see thatthe driver was a stocky fellow, who slouched down into his seat, andhandled his car almost as if it had been a mere toy. It was, I feltpositive, the man whom McBirney had reported one ni
ght about theneighbourhood of Longacre Square in the car which had once beenWarrington's. This, at least, was a different car, I knew. Now Irealised the wisdom of allowing this man, whom they called the Boss, togo free. Under the influence of Garrick's "plant," he was to lead us tothe right trail to the Chief.
It was easier now to follow the car since it had worked its way intolower Fifth Avenue. On uptown it went. We hung on doggedly in the massof traffic going north at this congested hour.
At last it turned into Forty-seventh Street. It was stopping at theladies' gambling joint, apparently to confirm the news. I had thoughtthat the place was closed, until the present trouble blew over, but itseemed that there must be someone there. The Boss was evidently wellknown, for he was immediately admitted.
Garrick did not stop. He kept on around the corner to the raidedpoolroom on the next street. Dillon's man, who had been stationed thereto watch the place, bowed and admitted him.
"I'm going to throw it into him good, this time," remarked Garrick, ashe entered. "I've been planning this stunt for an emergency--and it'shere. Now for the big scare!"
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