Children of the Whirlwind

by Leroy Scott

  CHAPTER XXXVI

  Larry caught and whirled around Barney Palmer just as the hand of theescaping Barney was on the knob of the outer door.

  "No, you don't, Barney Palmer!" he cried. "You stay right here!"

  Startled as Barney was by this appearance of his dearest enemy, hewasted no precious time on mere words. He swung a vicious blow at Larry,intended to remove this barrier to his freedom. But the experiencedLarry let it glance off his forearm, and with the need of aninstantaneous conclusion he sent a terrific right to Barney's chin.Barney staggered back, fell in a crumpled heap, and lay motionless.

  Sparing only the fraction of a second to see that Barney was momentarilyout of it, Larry sprang upon Joe Ellison and tried to break the deadlygrips Joe held upon Old Jimmie.

  "Stop, Joe--stop!" he cried peremptorily. "Your killing Jimmie Carlisleisn't going to help things!"

  Without relaxing his holds, Joe turned upon this interferer.

  "Larry Brainard! How'd you come in here?"

  "I've been here all the time. But, Joe--don't kill Jimmie Carlisle!"

  "You keep out--this is my business!" Joe fiercely replied. "If you'vebeen here all the time, then you know what he's done to me, and whathe's done to my girl! You know he deserves to have his neck twistedoff--and I'm going to twist it off!"

  Larry perceived that Joe's sense of tremendous injury had made him forthe moment a madman in his rage. Only the most powerful appeal had achance to bring him back to sanity.

  "Listen, Joe--listen!" he cried desperately, straining to hold back theother's furious strength from its destructive purpose. "After what'shappened, every one is bound to know that Maggie is your daughter!Understand that, Joe?--every one will know that Maggie is your daughter!It's not going to help you to be charged with murder. And think ofthis, Joe--what's it going to do to your daughter to have her father amurderer?"

  "What's that?" Joe Ellison asked dazedly.

  Larry saw that his point had penetrated to the other's reason. So hedrove on, repeating what he had said.

  "Understand this, Joe?--every one will now know that Maggie is yourdaughter! You simply can't prevent their knowing that now! Remember howfor over fifteen years you've been trying to do the best you could forher! Do you now want to do the worst thing you can do? The worst thingyou can do for Maggie is to make her father a murderer!"

  "I guess that's right Larry," he said huskily. "Thanks."

  He pushed the half-strangled Jimmie Carlisle away from him. "You'll getyours in some other way!" he said grimly.

  Old Jimmie, staggering, caught the back of a chair for support. Hetenderly felt his throat and blinked at Larry and Joe and Maggie. Hedid not try to say anything. In the meantime Barney had recoveredconsciousness, had struggled up, and was standing near Old Jimmie.Their recognition that they were sharers of defeat had served to restoresomething of the sense of alliance between the two.

  "Well, anyhow, Larry Brainard," snarled Barney, "you haven't hadanything to do with putting this across!"

  It was Joe Ellison who replied. "Larry Brainard has had everything todo with putting this across. He's been beating you all the time from thevery beginning, though you may not have known it. And though he's seemedto be out of things for the last few hours, he's been the actual powerbehind everything that's happened up to this minute. So don't foolyourself--Larry Brainard has beaten you out at every point!"

  A sense of triumph glowed within Larry at this. There had been a timewhen he had wanted the animal satisfaction which would have come fromhis giving violent physical punishment to these two--particularly toBarney. But he had no desire now for such empty vengeance.

  "Well, I guess you've got nothing on me," Barney growled at them, "soI'll be moving along. Better come, too, Jimmie."

  While he spoke a figure had moved from Larry's closet with the silenceof a swift shadow. It's thin hand gripped Barney's shoulder.

  "I guess _I've_ got something on you!" it said.

  Barney whirled. "Red Hannigan!" he gasped.

  "Yes, Red Hannigan!--you stool--you squealer!" said Red Hannigan. "Iheard you brag about being Barlow's stool, and I heard everything elseyou bragged about to Joe Ellison's girl. I'd bump you off right now ifI had my gat with me and if I had any chance at a get-away. But I'llbe looking after you, and the gang will be looking after you, till youdie--the same as you set us after Larry Brainard! No matter what elsehappens to you, you'll always have that as something extra waiting foryou! And when the time comes, we'll get you!"

  As silently as he had appeared from the closet, as silently he lethimself out of the room. The glowering features of Barney had faded toa pasty white while Hannigan had spoken, and now the hand which tried tobring a handkerchief to his lips shook so that he could hardly find hisface. For none knew so well as Barney Palmer how inescapable was thisthing which would be hanging over him until the end of his days.

  Before any one in the room could speak there came a loud pounding fromwithin the door of the closet Larry and Red Hannigan had not occupied."Oh, I'd completely forgotten!" exclaimed Maggie--and indeed she hadforgotten all that was not immediately connected with the situationcreated by her father's unexpected entrance. She crossed and unlockedthe door, and Barlow stepped out.

  "Chief Barlow!" exclaimed the astonished Larry, and all the other mengazed at the Chief of Detectives with an equal surprise.

  "He is part of my frame-up," Maggie explained at large. "I wanted boththe police and Larry's old friends to know the truth at first hand--andclear him before I went away."

  "Wasn't that Red Hannigan who just spoke?" were Barlow's first words.

  "Yes," said Larry.

  Barney, and Old Jimmie as well, had perked up at the appearance ofBarlow, as though at aid which had come just in time. But Barlow turnedupon Barney a cold police eye.

  "I heard you brag that you were my stool. That's a lie."

  "Why--why--Chief--" Barney stammered. He had counted upon help here,where there had existed mutually advantageous relations for so long.

  "I heard you say you had my protection. That's another lie. You'vesquealed on a few people, but I've never given you a thing."

  Barney gasped at this. He knew, as every one in the room also knew,that Barlow was lying. But Barlow held all the cards. Rough and ruthlesspolice politician that he was, he made it his business always to holdthe highest cards. As sick of soul as a man can be, Barney realized thatBarlow was doing exactly what Barlow always did--was swinging to theside that had the most evidence and that would prove most advantageousto him. And Barney realized that he was suffering the appointed fateof all stool-pigeons who are found out by their fellow criminals to bestool-pigeons. Such informers are of no further use, and according tothe police code they must be given punishment so severe as to dissipateany unhealthy belief on the public's part that there could ever havebeen any alliance between the two.

  "I've used this young lady who seems to have been Jimmie Carlisle'sdaughter and now seems to be the daughter of this old-timer Joe Ellison,for a little private sleuthing on my own hook," Barlow went on--for itwas the instinct of the man to claim the conception and leadershipof any idea in whose development he had a part. He spoke in a brusquetone--as why should he not, since he was addressing an audience helumped together as just so many crooks? "Through this little stunt Ipulled to-night, I've got on to your curves, Barney Palmer. And yours,too, Jimmie Carlisle. And I'm going to run the pair of you in."

  This was too much for Barney Palmer. Even though he knew that hisposition as a stool, who was known to be a stool, was without hopewhatever, he went utterly to pieces.

  "For God's sake, Chief," he burst out frantically, "you're not going totreat me like that! You could get me out of this easy! Think of all I'vedone for you! For God's sake, Chief--for God's sake--"

  "Shut up!" ordered Barlow, doubling a big fist.

  Chokingly Barney obeyed. Old Jimmie, coward though he was, and lackingentirely Barney's quality of a bravo, had accepted the situat
ion withthe twitching calm of one to whom the worst has often happened. "Shutup," repeated Barlow, "and get it fixed in your beans that I'm going torun you two in."

  "Run them in because of this Sherwood affair?" asked Larry.

  "Surest thing you know. I've got all the evidence I seed."

  "But--" Larry was beginning protestingly, when the doorbell rang again.Maggie opened the door, and there entered Miss Sherwood, with Hunt justbehind her, and Dick just behind him, and Casey and Gavegan followingthese three. All in the room were surprised at this invasion with thesole exception of Joe Ellison.

  "When Mr. Dick spoke over the 'phone about your coming," he said to MissSherwood, "I asked you not to do it."

  Barlow was prompt to speak, and the sudden change in his voice wouldhave been amazing to those who do not know how the little great menof the Police Department, and other little great men, can alter theirtones. He had recognized Miss Sherwood at once, as would any one else atall acquainted with influential New York.

  "Miss Sherwood, I believe," he said, essaying a slight bow.

  "Yes. Though I fear I have not the pleasure of knowing you."

  "Deputy Barlow, head of the Detective Bureau of the Police Department,"he informed her. "Entirely at your service."

  "Just what is going on here?" she queried. "I know a part of whathas happened"--she was addressing herself particularly to Maggie andLarry--"for Dick telephoned me about seven, and I came right into town.He told me everything he knew--which threw a different light on a lotof events--and Dick telephoned at about nine that I was coming over. Butsomething more seems to have happened."

  "Miss Sherwood, it's like--" began Barlow.

  "Just a second, Chief," Larry interrupted. Larry knew what a sensationalstory this would be as it had developed--and he knew in advance just howit would be seized upon and played up by the newspapers. And Larry didnot want unpleasant publicity for his friends (three in that room weretrying to make a fresh start in life), nor for those who had been hisfriends. "Chief, do you want to make an arrest on a charge which willinvolve every person in this room in a sensational story? Of course Iknow most of us here don't weigh anything with you. But why drag MissSherwood, who is innocent in every way, into a criminal story that willserve to cheapen her and every decent person involved? Besides, it canonly be a conspiracy charge, and there's more than a probability thatyou can't prove your case. So why make an arrest that will drag in MissSherwood?"

  Barlow had a mind which functioned with amazing rapidity on matterspertaining to his own interest. He realized on the instant how it mightcount for him in the future if he were in a position to ask a favor of aperson of Miss Sherwood's standing; and he spoke without hesitation:

  "I don't know anything about this Sherwood matter. If anyone ever asksme, they'll not get a word."

  There was swift relief on the faces of Barney and Old Jimmie; to beinstantly dispelled by Chief Barlow's next statement which followed hislast with only a pause for breath:

  "The main thing we want is to stick these two crooks away." He turned onBarney and Old Jimmie. "I've just learned you two fellows are the birdsI want for that Gregory stock business. I've got you for fair on that.It'll hold you a hundred times tighter than any conspiracy charge.Casey, Gavegan--hustle these two crooks out of here."

  The next moment Casey and Gavegan had handcuffs on the prisoners andwere leading them out.

  "Good for you, Larry," Casey whispered warmly as he went by with Barney."I knew you were going to win out, though it might be an extra-inninggame!"

  At the door Barlow paused. "I hope I've done everything all right, MissSherwood?"

  "Yes--as far as I know, Mr. Barlow."

  Again Barlow started out, and again turned. "And you, Brainard," hesaid, rather grudgingly, "I guess you needn't worry any about thatcharge against you. It'll be dropped."

  And with that Barlow followed his men and his prisoners out of the room.

  Then for a moment there was silence. As Larry saw and felt that moment,it was a moment so large that words would only make a faltering failurein trying to express it. He himself was suddenly free of all cloudsand all dangers. He had succeeded in what he had been trying to do withMaggie. A father and a daughter were meeting, with each knowing theirrelationship, for the first time. There was so much to be said, amongall of them, that could only be said as souls relaxed and got acquaintedwith each other.

  It was so strained, so stupendous a moment that it would quickly havebecome awkward and anti-climacteric but for the tact of Miss Sherwood.

  "Mr. Brainard," she began, in her smiling, direct manner, with a touchof brisk commonplace in it which helped relieve the tension, "I wantto apologize to you for the way I treated you late this afternoon. As Isaid, I've just had a talk with Dick and he's told me everything--exceptsome things we may all have to tell each other later. I was entirelyin the wrong, and you were entirely in the right. And the way you'vehandled things seems to have given Dick just that shock which you saidhe needed to awaken him to be the man it's in him to be. I'm sure we allcongratulate you."

  She gave Larry no chance to respond. She knew the danger, in such anemotional crisis as this, of any let-up. So she went right on in herbrisk tone of ingratiating authority.

  "I guess we've all been through too much to talk. You are all comingright home with me. Mr. Brainard and Mr. Ellison live there, I'm theirboss, and they've got to come. And you've got to come, Miss Ellison, ifyou don't want to offend me. I won't take 'no.' Besides, your place isnear your father. Wear what you have on; in a half a minute you can putenough in a bag to last until to-morrow. To-morrow we'll send in forthe rest of your things--whatever you want--and send a note to your MissGrierson, paying her off. You and your father will have my car," sheconcluded, "Mr. Brainard and Dick will ride in Dick's car, and Mr. Huntwill take me."

  And as she ordered, so was it.

  For fifteen minutes--perhaps half an hour--after it rolled away fromthe Grantham Hotel there was absolute stillness in Miss Sherwood'slimousine, which she had assigned to Maggie and her father. Maggie wasnear emotional collapse from what she had been through; and now shewas sitting tight in one corner, away from the dark shadow in the othercorner that was her newly discovered father who had cared for her somuch that he had sought to erase from her mind all knowledge of hisexistence. She wanted to say something--do something; she was torn witha poignant hunger. But she was so filled with pulsing desires and fearsthat she was impotent to express any of the million things within her.

  And so they rode on, dark shadows, almost half the width of the deeplycushioned seat between them. Thus they had ridden along Jackson Avenue,almost into Flushing, when the silence was broken by the first wordsof the journey. They were husky words, yearning and afraid of their ownsound, and were spoken by Maggie's father.

  "I--I don't know what to call you. Will--will Maggie do?"

  "Yes," she whispered.

  "I'm--I'm not much," the husky voice ventured on; "but what you saidabout going away--for my sake--do you think you need to do it?"

  "I've made--such a mess of myself," she choked out.

  "Other people were to blame," he said. "And out of it all, I thinkyou're going to be what--what I dreamed you were. And--and--"

  There was another stifling silence. "Yes?" she prompted.

  "I wanted to keep out of your life--for your sake," he went on in hisstrained, suppressed voice. "But--but if you're not ashamed of menow that you know all"--in the darkness his groping hand closed uponhers--"I wish you wouldn't--go away from me, Maggie."

  And then the surging, incoherent thing in her that bad been strugglingto say itself this last half-hour, suddenly found its voice in a singleword:

  "Father!" she cried, and flung her arms around his neck.

  "Maggie!" he sobbed, crushing her to him.

  All the way to Cedar Crest they said not another word; just clung toeach other in the darkness, sobbing--the first miraculous embrace ofa father and daughter who had each foun
d that which they had neverexpected to have.