Part 4 (1/2)

III

VISITORS

”The affair promises to be quite interesting,” he confided to the paper-knife, with which he was spearing tiny holes in the blotter of the pad. ”Peac.o.c.k Alley at five--but there are a few matters that come first.”

He went straight to the safe, unlocked it, took out the photograph, the cipher message, and the handkerchief, carried these to the table and placed them in a large envelope, which he sealed and addressed to himself. Then with it, and the three American Beauties, he pa.s.sed quickly into the corridor and to an adjoining apartment. There he rang the bell vigorously and long.

He was still ringing when a dishevelled figure, in blue pajamas and a scowl, opened the door.

”What the devil do you--” the disturbed one growled.

”S-h-h!” said Harleston, his finger on his lips. ”Keep these for me until tomorrow, Stuart.”

And crowding the roses and the envelope in the astonished man's hands, he hurried away.

The pajamaed one glared at the flowers and the envelope; then he turned and flung them into a corner of the living-room.

”h.e.l.l!” he said in disgust. ”Harleston's either crazy or in love: it's the same thing anyway.”

He slammed the door and went back to bed.

Harleston, chuckling, returned to his quarters; retrieved from the floor a leaf and a petal and tossed them out of the window. Then, being a.s.sured by a careful inspection of the room that there were no further traces of the roses remaining, he went to bed.

Two minutes after his head touched the pillow, he was asleep.

Presently he awoke--listening!

Some one was on the fire-escape. The pa.s.sage leading to it was just at the end of his suite; more than that, one could climb over the railing, and, by a little care, reach the sill of his bedroom window. This sill was wide and offered an easy footing. If the window were up, one could easily step inside; or, even if it were not, the catch could be slipped in a moment.

Harleston's window, however, was up--invitingly up; also the window on the pa.s.sage; it was a warm night and any air was grateful.

He lay quite still and waited developments. They came from another quarter: the corridor on which his apartment opened. Someone was there.

Then the k.n.o.b of his door turned; he could not distinguish it in the uncertain light, yet he knew it was turning by a peculiarly faint screech--almost so faint as to be indistinguishable. One would not notice it except at the dead of night.

The door hung a moment; then cautiously it swung back a little way, and two men entered. The moon, though now low, was sufficient to light the place faintly and to enable them to see and be seen.

For a brief interval they stood motionless. They came to life when Harleston, reaching up, pushed the electric b.u.t.ton.

”What can I do for you, gentlemen?” he asked, blinking into their levelled revolvers.

They were medium-sized men and wore evening clothes; one was about forty-five and rather inclined to stoutness, the other was under forty and rather slender. They were not masked, and their faces, which were strange to Harleston, were the faces of men of breeding, accustomed to affairs.

”You startled us, Mr. Harleston,” the elder replied; ”and you blinded us momentarily by the rush of light.”

”It was thoughtless of me,” Harleston returned. He waved his hand toward the chairs. ”Won't you be seated, messieurs--and pardon my not arising; I'm hardly in receiving costume. May I ask whom I am entertaining.”

”Certainly, sir,” the elder smiled. ”This is Mr. Sparrow; I am Mr.

Marston. We would not have you put yourself to the inconvenience, not to mention the hazard from drafts. You're much more comfortable in bed--and we can transact our business with you quite as well so; moreover if you will give us your word to lie quiet and not call or shoot, we shall not offer you the slightest violence.”