CHAPTER XII
THORNE TAKES CHARGE OF THE TELEGRAPH OFFICE
Arrelsford stared after the departing figures with a mixture ofamusement, contempt, and annoyance in his glance. So soon as the doorhad closed behind them he turned to Lieutenant Foray, who was regardinghim with ill-concealed aversion.
"Let me have that despatch," he began in his usual peremptory manner.
"You said you had an order, sir," returned Foray stubbornly.
"Yes, yes," replied the Secret Service Agent impatiently, throwing anorder on the table, "there it is, don't waste time."
But Lieutenant Foray was not satisfied, principally because he did notwish to be. He scrutinised the order carefully, and with great distasteat its contents. It was quite evident that if he could have found apossible pretext for refusing obedience, he would gladly have done so.His sympathies were entirely with Miss Mitford.
"I suppose you are Mr. Benton Arrelsford, all right?" he begandeliberately, fingering the paper.
"Certainly I am," returned Arrelsford haughtily.
"We have to be very careful nowadays," continued Foray shortly. "But Ireckon it's all right. Here's the telegram."
"Did the girl seem nervous or excited when she handed this in?" askedthe other, taking the message.
"Do you mean Miss Mitford?" asked Foray reprovingly.
"Certainly, who else?"
"Yes, she did."
"She was anxious not to have it seen by anybody?"
"Anxious, I should say so. She didn't even want me to see it."
"Umph!" said Arrelsford. "I don't mind telling you, Mr. Foray, that weare on the track of a serious affair and I believe she's mixed up init."
"But that despatch is to young Varney, a mere boy, the General's son,"urged the Lieutenant.
"I didn't know he had gone to the front. So much the worse. It's one ofthe ugliest affairs we have ever had. I had them put me on it, and Ihave got it pretty close. We have had some checks but we will end itright here in this office inside of thirty minutes."
There was a slight tap on the door at this juncture. Arrelsford turnedto the door, opened it, and found himself face to face with a soldier,who saluted and stood at attention.
"Well, what is it?"
"The lady's here, sir," said the soldier.
"Where is she?" asked Arrelsford.
"Waiting down below at the front entrance."
"Did she come alone?"
"Yes, sir."
"Show her up here at once. I suppose you have a revolver here,"continued the Secret Service Man, turning to Lieutenant Foray, who hadlistened with much interest.
"Certainly," answered Foray, "we are always armed in the telegraphoffice."
From a drawer in the table he drew forth a revolver which he laid on thetop of the table.
"Good," said Arrelsford, "while I want to handle this thing myself, Imay call you. Be ready, that's all."
"Very well."
"Obey any orders you may get, and send out all despatches unless I stopyou."
"Yes, sir."
"And if you don't mind, I don't care to have all these messenger boyscoming back here. I will order them to stop in the hall. If you have anymessages for them, you can take them out there. I don't want to have toomany people in the room."
"Very good, sir. Will you give the order to your orderly when he bringsup the young lady?"
"Yes."
Arrelsford stepped to the door, and Foray busied himself with theclicking instruments. After a few minutes' conversation with theorderly, who had just returned, Arrelsford ushered Edith Varney into theroom. With not even a glance at the operator in her intensepreoccupation, the girl spoke directly to Arrelsford.
"I--I've accepted your invitation, you see."
"I am greatly obliged to you, Miss Varney," returned Arrelsford withdeferential courtesy. "As a matter of justice to me, it was----"
"I didn't come to oblige you," answered Edith, haughtily.
She had never liked Mr. Arrelsford. His addresses had been mostunpleasant and unwelcome to her, and now she not only hated him but sheloathed him.
"I came here," she continued, as Arrelsford attempted to speak, "to seethat no more----" her voice broke for a moment, "murders are committedhere--to satisfy your singular curiosity."
"Murders!" exclaimed Arrelsford, flushing deeply.
The girl nodded.
"The Union soldier who escaped from prison----" she began.
"Is the man dead?" interrupted Arrelsford.
"The man is dead."
"It is a curious thing, Miss Varney," continued the other with cuttingemphasis, "that one Yankee prisoner more or less should make so muchdifference to you, isn't it? They are dying down in Libby by thehundreds."
"At least they are not being killed in our houses, in our drawing-rooms,before our very eyes!"
She confronted Arrelsford with a bitterly reproachful glance, beforewhich his eyes for a moment fell, and he was glad indeed to turn toanother orderly who had just entered the room.
"Have you kept track of him!" he asked in a low voice.
"He's coming down the street to the Department now, sir."
"Where has he been since he left Mrs. Varney's house?"
"He went to his quarters on Gary Street. We got in the next room andwatched him through a transom."
"What was he doing?"
"Working on some papers or documents."
"Could you see them? Did you see what they were?"
"They looked like orders from the War Department, sir."
"He is coming here with forged orders, I suppose."
"I don't doubt it, sir."
"I surmise that his game is to get control of these wires and then sendout despatches to the front that will take away a battery or a brigadefrom some vital point, the vital point indicated by 'Plan 3.' That'swhere they mean to attack to-night."
"Looks like it, sir," agreed the orderly respectfully.
"'Plan 3,' that's where they will hit us," mused the Secret ServiceAgent. "Is there a guard in the building?"
"Not inside, sir," answered the orderly, "there's a guard in front andsentries around the barracks over in the square."
"If I shouted, they could hear from this window, couldn't they?" askedArrelsford.
"The guard in front could hear you, sir. But the time is getting short.He must be nearly here, you'd better look out, sir."
Edith Varney had heard enough of the conversation to understand thatThorne was coming. Of course it would never do for him to see her there.
"Where am I to go?" she asked.
"Outside here on the balcony," said Arrelsford. "There is no closet inthe room and it is the only place. I will be with you in a moment."
"But if he should come to the window?"
"We will step in at the other window. Stay, orderly, see if the windowof the Commissary General's Office, the next room to the left, is open."
They waited while the orderly went out on the balcony and made hisinspection.
"The window of the next room is open, sir," he reported.
"That's all I want of you. Report back to Corporal Matson. Tell him toget the body of the prisoner out of the Varney house. He knows whereit's to go."
"Very well, sir."
"Mr. Foray," continued Arrelsford, "whoever comes here you are to keepon with your work and don't give the slightest sign of my presence toany one on any account. You understand?"
"Yes, sir," said Foray from the telegraph table in the centre of theroom.
He had caught something of the conversation, but he was too good asoldier to ask any questions, beside his business was with thetelegraph, not with Mr. Arrelsford.
"Now, Miss Varney," said the Secret Service Agent, "this way, please."
He opened the middle window. The girl stepped through, and he was aboutto follow when he caught sight of a messenger entering the room. Leavingthe window, he retraced his steps.
"Where did you come from?" he said abruptly to the young man.
"War Department, sir."
"Carrying despatches'?"
"Yes, sir."
"You know me, don't you?"
"I've seen you at the office, sir, and----"
"I'm here on Department business," said Arrelsford. "All you have to dois to keep quiet about it. Weren't you stopped in the hall?"
"Yes, sir, but I had a despatch from the President that had to bedelivered to Lieutenant Foray."
"Well, it is just as well," said Arrelsford. "Don't mention having seenme to anybody under any pretext and stay here. You might be needed. Onsecond thoughts, Foray, let any messenger come in."
With that Mr. Arrelsford stepped out onto the balcony through the windowwhich he closed after him, and he and Edith disappeared from view.
"Messenger," said Foray, "step down the hall and tell the private therethat by Mr. Arrelsford's orders, messengers are allowed to come up asthey report."
The room which had been the scene of these various colloquies becamesilent save for the continuous clicking of the telegraph keys. Presentlytwo messengers came back and took their positions as before.
Hard on their heels entered Captain Thorne. He was in uniform, ofcourse, and a paper was tucked in his belt. He walked rapidly down theroom, acknowledged the salutes of the messengers, and stopped before thetable. His quick scrutiny of the room as he advanced had shown him thatthere was no one present except the messengers and Lieutenant Foray.Foray glanced up, nodded, finished taking the despatch which was on thewires at the time, wrote it out, put it in its envelope, and then roseto his feet and saluted.
"Captain Thorne," he said.
"Lieutenant Foray," replied Thorne, taking the order from his belt andhanding it to the operator.
"Order from the Department?" asked Foray.
"I believe so," answered Thorne briefly.
Lieutenant Foray opened it and read it.
"They want me to take a cipher despatch over to the President's house,"he said as he finished.
"Yes," said Thorne, moving to the vacant place at the table. He pulledthe chair back a little, tossed his hat on the other table, andotherwise made himself at home.
"I am ordered to stay here until you get back," he began casually,shoving the paper aside and stretching his hand toward the key.
"That's an odd thing, Captain," began Lieutenant Foray dubiously. "Iunderstood that the President was meeting with the Cabinet. In fact,Lieutenant Allison went over there to take some code work a moment ago.He must have gone home, I reckon."
"Looks like it," said Thorne quietly. "If he is not at home you hadbetter wait."
"Yes," said Foray, moving away, "I suppose I had better wait for him.You will have to look out for Allison's wire though on the other table.He was called over to the Department."
"Oh, Allison!" said Thorne carelessly. "Be gone long, do you think?" hecontinued as he seated himself at the table and began to arrange thepapers.
"Well, you know how it is. They generally whip around quite a whilebefore they make up their minds what they want to do. I don't supposethey will trouble you much. It's as quiet as a church down the river.Good-night."
"See here, Mr. Foray, wait a moment. You had better not walk out andleave--no matter," continued Thorne, as the operator stopped and turnedback. "It's none of my business, still if you want some good advice,that is a dangerous thing to do."
"What is it, Captain?" asked Foray, somewhat surprised.
"Leave a cigar lying around an office like that. Somebody might walk inany minute and take it away. I can't watch your cigars all day."
He picked up the cigar, and before Foray could prevent it, lighted itand began to smoke. Foray laughed.
"Help yourself, Captain, and if there is any trouble you will find arevolver on the table."
"I see," said Thorne, "but what makes you think there is going to betrouble?"
"Oh, well there might be."
"Been having a bad dream?" asked the Captain nonchalantly.
"No, but you never can tell. All sorts of things are liable to happen inan office like this, and----."
"That's right," said Thorne, puffing away at his cigar, "you never cantell. But see here. If you never can tell when you are going to havetrouble you had better take that gun along with you. I have one of myown."
"Well," said the operator, "if you have one of your own, I might aswell."
He took the revolver up and tucked it in his belt. "Look out foryourself, Captain. Good-bye. I will be back as soon as the Presidentgives me that despatch. That despatch I have just finished is for theCommissary General's Office, but it can wait until the morning."
"All right," said Thorne, and the next moment the operator turned awaywhile the clicking of the key called Thorne to the table. It took himbut a few minutes to write the brief message which he addressed andturned to the first messenger, "Quartermaster General."
"He wasn't in his office a short time ago, sir," said the messenger.
"Very well, find him. He has probably gone home and he has to have thismessage."
"Very good, sir."
The key kept up its clicking. In a short time another message waswritten off.
"Ready here," cried Thorne, looking at the other messenger. "This is forthe Secretary of the Treasury, marked private. Take it to his home."
"He was down at the Cabinet meeting a little while ago, sir," said thesecond messenger.
"No difference, take it to his house and wait until he comes."
The instant the departing messenger left him alone in the room, Thorneleaped to his feet and ran with cat-like swiftness to the door, openedit, and quickly but carefully examined the corridor to make sure that noone was there on duty. Then he closed the door and turned to the nearestwindow, which he opened also, and looked out on the balcony, which hesaw was empty. He closed the window and came back to the table,unbuckling his belt and coat as he came. These he threw on the table.The coat fell back, and he glanced in the breast pocket to see that acertain document was in sight and at hand, where he could get itquickly. Then he took his revolver, which he had previously slipped fromhis belt to his hip pocket, and laid it down beside the instrument.
After a final glance around him to see that he was still alone andunobserved, he seized the key on which he sounded a certain call. Anexpert telegrapher would have recognised it, a dash, four dots in rapidsuccession, then two dots together, and then two more (--.... .. ..). Hewaited a few moments, and when no answer came he signalled the call asecond time, and after another longer wait he sent it a third time.
After this effort he made a longer pause, and just as he had aboutreached the end of his patience--he was in a fever of anxiety, for uponwhat happened in the next moment the failure or the success of the wholeplan absolutely turned--the silent key clicked out an answer, repeatingthe same signal which he himself had made. The next moment he made aleap upon the key, but before he could send a single letter steps wereheard outside in the corridor.
Thorne released the key, leaned back in his chair, seized a match fromthe little holder on the table and struck it, and when another messengerentered he seemed to be lazily lighting his cigar. He cursed in hisheart at the inopportune arrival. Another uninterrupted moment and hewould have sent the order, but as usual he gave no outward evidence ofhis extreme annoyance. The messenger came rapidly down toward the tableand handed Captain Thorne a message.
"From the Secretary of War, Captain Thorne," he said saluting, "and hewants it to go out right away."
"Here, here," said Thorne, as the messenger turned away, "what's allthis?" He ran his fingers through the envelope, tore it open, and spreadout the despatch. "Is that the Secretary's signature?" he asked.
The messenger came back.
"Yes, sir; I saw him sign it myself. I'm his personal messenger."
"Oh!" said Thorne, spreading the despatch out on the table and O.K.'ingit, "you saw him sign it yourself, did you?"
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"Yes, sir."
"Very well. We have to be pretty careful to-night," he explained, "thereis something on. You are sure of this, are you?"
"I could swear to that signature anywhere, sir," said the messenger.
"Very well," said Thorne, "you may go."
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