Bob Eden dropped down on a battered old settee that had been exiled from the house. He put his head in his hands.
"Well, I'm discouraged," he admitted. "We're up against a stone wall, Charlie."
"Many times in my life I find myself in that precise locality," returned the detective. "What happens? I batter old head until it feels sore, and then a splendid idea assails me. I go around."
"What do you suggest?"
"Possibilities of ranch now exhausted and drooping. We must look elsewhere. Names of three cities gallop into mind -- Pasadena, Los Angeles, Hollywood."
"All very fine -- but how to get there? By gad -- I think I can manage it at that. Madden was saying this morning I ought to go to Pasadena and look up Draycott. It seems that for some strange reason they didn't meet yesterday."
Chan smiled. "Did he display peevish feeling as result?"
"No, oddly enough, he didn't. I don't think he wanted to meet Draycott, with the professor tagging along. Paula Wendell's going over that way shortly in her car. If I hurry, I may be able to ride with her."
"Which, to my thinking, would be joyful traveling," agreed Chan. "Hasten along. We have more talk when I act part of taxi-driver and carry you to Eldorado."
Bob Eden went at once to Madden's bedroom. The door was open and he saw the huge figure of the millionaire stretched on the bed, his snores shattering the calm afternoon. He hammered loudly on the panel of the door.
Madden leaped from the bed with startling suddenness, his eyes instantly wide and staring. He seemed like one expecting trouble. For a moment, Eden pitied the great man. Beyond all question Madden was caught in some inexplicable net; he was harassed and worn, but fighting still. Not a happy figure, for all his millions.
"I'm awfully sorry to disturb you, sir," Eden said. "But the fact is I have a chance to ride over to Pasadena with some of the movie people, and I think I'd better go. Draycott hasn't called, and --"
"Hush," said Madden sharply. He closed the door. "The matter of Draycott is between you and me. I suppose you wonder what it's all about, but I can't tell you -- except to say that this fellow Gamble doesn't strike me as being what he pretends. And --"
"Yes, sir," said Eden hopefully, as the millionaire paused.
"Well, I won't go into that. You locate Draycott and tell him to come to Eldorado. Tell him to put up at the Desert Edge and keep his mouth shut. I'll get in touch with him shortly. Until I do he's to lie low. Is that understood?"
"Perfectly, Mr. Madden. I'm sorry this thing has dragged out as it has --"
"Oh, that's all right. You go and tell Ah Kim I said he was to drive you to Eldorado -- unless your movie friends are coming out here for you."
"No -- I shall have to enlist Ah Kim again. Thank you, sir. I'll be back soon."
"Good luck" answered Madden.
Hastily Eden threw a few things into his suitcase, and waited in the yard for Ah Kim and the flivver. Gamble appeared.
"Not leaving us, Mr. Eden?" he inquired in his mild way.
"No such luck -- for you," the boy replied. "Just a short trip."
"On business, perhaps?" persisted the professor gently.
"Perhaps," smiled Eden, and the car with its Chinese chauffeur appearing at that moment, he leaped in.
Again he and Chan were abroad in the yellow glory of a desert sunset. "Well, Charlie," Eden said, "I'm a little new at this detective business. What am I to do first?"
"Toss all worry out of mind. I shall hover round your elbow, doing prompt work."
"You? How are you going to get away?"
"Easy thing. Tomorrow morning I announce I take day off to visit sick brother in Los Angeles. Very ancient plea of all Chinese servants. Madden will be angry, but he will not suspect. Train leaves Eldorado at seven in the morning, going to Pasadena. I am aboard, reaching there at eleven. You will, I hope, condescend to meet me at station?"
"With the greatest pleasure. We take Pasadena first, eh?"
"So I would plan it. We ascertain Madden's movements there on Wednesday. What happened at bank? Did he visit home? Then Hollywood, and maybe Eddie Boston. After that, we ask the lady soprano to desist from singing and talk a little time."
"All right, but we're going to be a fine pair," Eden replied, "with no authority to question anybody. You may be a policeman in Honolulu, but that isn't likely to go very big in Southern California."
Chan shrugged. "Ways will open. Paths will clear."
"I hope so," the boy answered. "And here's another thing. Aren't we taking a big chance? Suppose Madden hears of our antics? Risky, isn't it?"
"Risky pretty good word for it," agreed Chan. "But we are desperate now. We take long gambles."
"I'll say we're desperate," sighed Eden. "Me, I'm getting desperater every minute. I may as well tell you that if we come back from this trip with no definite light on things, I'll be strongly tempted to lift a big burden from your stomach -- and my mind."
"Patience very nice virtue," smiled Chan.
"Well, you ought to know," Eden said. "You've got a bigger supply on hand than any man I ever met."
When they reached the Desert Edge Hotel, Eden was relieved to see Paula Wendell's car parked in front. They waited by the little roadster, and while they did so, Will Holley came along. They told him of their plans.
"I can help you a bit," said the editor. "Madden has a caretaker at his Pasadena house -- a fine old chap named Peter Fogg. He's been down here several times, and I know him rather well." He wrote on a card. "Give him that, and tell him I sent you."
"Thanks," said Eden. "We'll need it, or I'm much mistaken."
Paula Wendell appeared.
"Great news for you," Eden announced. "I'm riding with you as far as Pasadena."
"Fine," she replied. "Jump in."
Eden climbed into the roadster. "See you boys later," he called, and the car started.
"You ought to get a regular taxi, with a meter," Eden suggested.
"Nonsense. I'm glad to have you."
"Are you really?"
"Certainly am. Your weight will help to keep the car on the road."
"Lady, you surely can flatter," he told her. "I'll drive, if you like."
"No, thanks -- I guess I'd better. I know the roads."
"You're always so efficient, you make me nervous," he commented.
"I wasn't so efficient when it came to Eddie Boston. I'm sorry about that."
"Don't you worry. Eddie's a tough bird. Chan and I will try him presently."
"Where does the big mystery stand now?" asked the girl.
"It stands there leering at us," the boy replied. "Just as it always has." For a time they speculated on Madden's unexplained murder of Delaney. Meanwhile they were climbing between the hills, while the night gathered about them. Presently they dropped down into a green fertile valley, fragrant with the scent of blossoms.
"Um," sighed Eden, breathing deep. "Smells pretty. What is it?"
The girl glanced at him. "You poor, benighted soul. Orange blossoms."
"Oh! Well, naturally I couldn't be expected to know that."
"Of course not."
"The condemned man gets a rather pleasant whiff in his last moments, doesn't he? I suppose it acts like ether -- and when he comes to, he's married." A reckless driver raced toward them on the wrong side of the road. "Look out!"
"I saw him coming," said the girl. "You're safe with me. How many times must I tell you that?"
They had dinner and a dance or two at an inn in Riverside, and all too soon, it seemed to Eden, arrived at Pasadena. The girl drove up before the Maryland Hotel, prepared to drop him.
"But look here," he protested. "I'll see you safely to Hollywood, of course."
"No need of that," she smiled. "I'm like you. I can take care of myself."
"Is that so?"
"Want to see me tomorrow?"
"Always want to see you tomorrow. Chan and I are coming over your way. Where can we find you?"
She told
him she would be at the picture studio at one o'clock, and with a gay good-bye, disappeared down the brightly-lighted stretch of Colorado Street. Eden went in to a quiet night at the hotel.
After breakfast in the morning he recalled that an old college friend named Spike Bristol was reported in the class histories as living now in Pasadena. The telephone directory furnished Bristol's address, and Eden set out to find him. His friend turned out to be one of the more decorative features of a bond office.
"Bond salesman, eh?" said Eden, when the greetings were over.
"Yes -- it was either that or real estate," replied Bristol. "I was undecided for some time. Finally I picked this."
"Of course," laughed Eden. "As any class history proves, gentlemen prefer bonds. How are you getting on?"
"Fine. All my old friends are buying from me."
"Ah, now I know why you were so glad to see me."
"Sure was. We have some very pretty first mortgage sixes --"
"I'll bet you have -- and you can keep them. I'm here on business, Spike -- private business. Keep what I say under your hat."
"Never wear one," answered Spike brightly. "That's the beauty of this climate --"
"You can't sell me the climate, either. Spike, you know P.J. Madden, don't you?"
"Well -- we're not very chummy. He hasn't asked me to dinner. But of course all us big financiers are acquainted. As for Madden, I did him a service only a couple of days ago."
"Elucidate."
"This is just between us. Madden came in here Wednesday morning with a hundred and ten thousand dollars' worth of negotiable bonds -- mostly Liberties -- and we sold them for him the same day. Paid him in cash, too."
"Precisely what I wanted to know. Spike, I'd like to talk with somebody at Madden's bank about his actions there Wednesday."
"Who are you -- Sherlock Holmes?"
"Well --" Eden thought of Chan. "I am connected with the police, temporarily." Spike whistled. "I may go so far as to say -- and for heaven's sake keep it to yourself -- that Madden is in trouble. At the present moment I'm stopping at his ranch on the desert, and I have every reason to believe he's being blackmailed."
Spike looked at him. "What if he is? That ought to be his business."
"It ought to be, but it isn't. A certain transaction with my father is involved. Do you know anybody at the Garfield Bank?"
"One of my best friends is cashier there. But you know these bankers -- hard-boiled eggs. However, we'll have a try."
They went together to the marble precincts of the Garfield Bank. Spike held a long and earnest conversation with his friend. Presently he called Eden over and introduced him.
"How do you do," said the banker. "You realize that what Spike here suggests is quite irregular. But if he vouches for you, I suppose -- What is it you want to know?"
"Madden was here on Wednesday. Just what happened?"
"Yes, Mr. Madden came in on Wednesday. We hadn't seen him for two years, and his coming caused quite a stir. He visited the safe deposit vaults and spent some time going through his box."
"Was he alone?"
"No, he wasn't," the banker replied. "His secretary, Thorn, who is well known to us, was with him. Also a little, middle-aged man whom I don't recall very clearly."
"Ah, yes. He examined his safety deposit box. Was that all?"
The banker hesitated. "No. He had wired his office in New York to deposit a rather large sum of money to our credit with the Federal Reserve Bank -- but I'd really rather not say any more."
"You paid over to him that large sum of money?"
"I'm not saying we did. I'm afraid I've said too much already."
"You've been very kind," Eden replied. "I promise you won't regret it Thank you very much."
He and Bristol returned to the street. "Thanks for your help, Spike," Eden remarked. "I'm leaving you here."
"Cast off like an old coat," complained Bristol. "How about lunch?"
"Sorry. Some other time. I must run along now. The station's down here, isn't it? I leave you to your climate."
"Sour grapes," returned Spike. "Don't go home and get lost in the fog. So long."
From the eleven o'clock train a quite different Charlie Chan alighted. He was dressed as Eden had seen him in San Francisco.
"Hello, Dapper Dan," the boy said.
Chan smiled. "Feel respected again," he explained. "Visited Barstow and rescued proper clothes. No cooking today, which makes life very pretty."
"Madden put up a fight when you left?"
"How could he do so? I leave before his awakening, dropping quaintly worded note at door. No doubt now his heart is heavy, thinking I have deserted forever. Happy surprise for him when Ah Kim returns to home nest."
"Well, Charlie, I've been busy," said Eden. He went over his activities of the morning. "When the old boy came back to the ranch the other night, he must have been oozing cash at every pore. I tell you, Holley's right. He's being blackmailed."
"Seems that way," agreed Chan. "Here is another thought. Madden has killed a man, and fears discovery. He gets huge sum together so if necessity arouses he can flee with plenty cash until affair blows overhead. How is that?"
"By George -- it's possible," admitted Eden.
"To be considered," replied Chan. "Suggest now we visit caretaker at local home."
A yellow taxi carried them to Orange Grove Avenue. Chan's black eyes sparkled as they drove through the cheerful handsome city. When they turned off under the shade of the pepper trees lining the favorite street of the millionaires, the detective regarded the big houses with awe.
"Impressive sight for one born in thatched hut by side of muddy river," he announced. "Rich men here live like emperors. Does it bring content?"
"Charlie," said Eden, "I'm worried about this caretaker business. Suppose he reports our call to Madden. We're sunk."
"Without bubble showing. But what did I say -- we accept long chance and hope for happy luck."
"Is it really necessary to see him?"
"Important to see everybody knowing Madden. This caretaker may turn out useful find."
"What shall we say to him?"
"The thing that appears to be true. Madden in much trouble -- blackmail. We are police on trail of crime."
"Fine. And how can you prove that?"
"Quick flash of Honolulu badge, which I have pinned to vest. All police badges much alike, unless person has suspicion to read close."
"Well, you're the doctor, Charlie. I follow on."
The taxi halted before the largest house on the street -- or in the world, it seemed. Chan and Eden walked up the broad driveway to find a man engaged in training roses on a pergola. He was a scholarly-looking man even in his overalls, with keen eyes and a pleasant smile.
"Mr. Fogg?" inquired Eden.
"That's my name," the man said. Bob Eden offered Holley's card, and Fogg's smile broadened.
"Glad to meet any friend of Holley's," he remarked. "Come over to the side veranda and sit down. What can I do for you?"
"We're going to ask a few questions, Mr. Fogg," Eden began. "They may seem odd -- you can answer them or not, as you prefer. In the first place, Mr. Madden was in Pasadena last Wednesday?"
"Why yes -- of course he was."
"You saw him then?"
"For a few minutes -- yes. He drove up to the door in that Requa car he uses out here. That was about six o'clock. I talked with him for a while, but he didn't get out of the car."
"What did he say?"
"Just asked me if everything was all right, and added that he might be back shortly for a brief stay here -- with his daughter."
"With his daughter, eh?"
"Yes."
"Did you make any inquiries about the daughter?"
"Why, yes -- the usual polite hope that she was well. He said she was quite well, and anxious to get here."
"Was Madden alone in the car?"
"No. Thorn was with him -- as always. And another man whom I had never
seen before."
"They didn't go into the house?"
"No. I had the feeling Mr. Madden intended to, but changed his mind."
Bob Eden looked at Charlie Chan, "Mr. Fogg -- did you notice anything about Madden's manner? Was he just as always?"
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