Part 41 (2/2)
As he spoke the telephone-bell rang. Staff turned away to his desk, Ismay's voice pursuing him with the caution.
”Don't forget about that open drawer--keep your hands away from it.”
”Oh, be quiet,” returned Staff contemptuously. Standing with his back to them, he took up the instrument and lifted off the receiver.
”h.e.l.lo?” he said irritably.
He was glad that his face was not visible to his guests; he could restrain a start of surprise, but was afraid his expression would have betrayed him when he recognised the voice at the other end of the line as Iff's.
”Don't repeat my name,” it said quickly in a tone low but clear. ”That is Iff. Ismay still there?”
”Yes,” said Staff instantly: ”it's I, Harry. How are you?”
”Get rid of him as quick 's you can,” Iff continued, ”and join me here at the Park Avenue. I dodged down the fire-escape and caught his motor-car; his chauffeur thinks I'm him. I'll wait in the street--Thirty-third Street side, with the car. Now talk.”
”All right,” said Staff heartily; ”glad to. I'll be there.”
”Chauffeur knows where Nelly is, I think; but he's too big for me to handle alone, in case my foot slips and he gets suspicious. That's why I need you. Bring your gun.”
”Right,” Staff agreed promptly. ”The club in half an hour. Yes, I'll come. Good-bye.”
He turned back toward Ismay and Alison, his doubts resolved, all his vague misgivings as to this case of double ident.i.ty settled finally and forever.
”Alison,” he said, breaking in roughly upon something Ismay was saying to the girl, ”you've a cab waiting outside, haven't you?”
Alison stared in surprise. ”Yes,” she said in a tone of wonder.
Staff paused beside the divan, one hand resting upon the topmost of a little heap of silken cus.h.i.+ons. ”Mind if I borrow it?” he asked, ignoring the man.
”No, but--”
”It's business--important,” said Staff. ”I'll have to leave you here at once. Only”--he watched Ismay closely out of the corners of his eyes--”if I were you I wouldn't waste any more time on this fellow. He's bluffing--can't carry out anything he promises.”
Ismay turned toward him, expostulant.
”What d' you mean by that?” he demanded.
”Miss Searle has escaped,” said Staff deliberately.
”No!” cried Ismay, startled and thrown off his guard by the fear it might be so. ”Impossible!”
”Think so?” As he spoke Staff dextrously s.n.a.t.c.hed up the uppermost pillow and with a twist of his hand sent it whirling into the thief's face.
It took him utterly unawares. His arms flew up too late to ward it off, and he staggered back a pace.
”Lots of impossible things keep happening all the time,” chuckled Staff as he closed in.
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