Part 14 (1/2)
The room was pitch dark. In a moment, however, Hartmann had pressed an electric b.u.t.ton, and a brilliant light flooded the place. Duvall looked about him curiously, and in that fleeting glance saw that the room was without windows of any kind, and that the walls, smooth and white, contained no openings whatever, except the door by which they had entered. The floor, as he could tell by its feel under his feet, was of cement. The room was bare of furniture, but he perceived a number of boxes and packing cases standing about the walls.
The instant the door was closed, Hartmann sprang at the detective and grasped his two wrists. The latter had always been considered a powerful man, but the arms and shoulders of the doctor were those of a Hercules.
”Search him, Mayer,” he said, as he pinned Duvall's wrists together in his iron grip.
The man addressed as Mayer at once began a systematic search of Duvall's person. With deft fingers he explored his pockets, felt the linings of his clothing, tore through the contents of his pocketbook. The opera hat had fallen to the floor, in the short struggle which ensued when the detective found himself in Hartmann's grasp. Mayer picked it up, glanced at it carelessly, then threw it angrily into a corner, where it rolled un.o.bserved, into the shadow of a large box.
”There is nothing here,” he said, in a voice of keen disappointment. ”He must have hidden it elsewhere.”
”In his room at the hotel, perhaps--his portmanteau,” the doctor said, eagerly, releasing Duvall's hands and throwing him to one side with some violence.
Mayer looked grave. ”I have searched everything thoroughly. It is not there.”
The doctor muttered an oath. ”The other--the old Frenchman?”
”He was arrested to-night on a charge of irregularity in his pa.s.sport.
Nothing discovered. He will be released in the morning.”
”_Teufel!_” The doctor swore excitedly in German. ”Then the other one--the one who was in charge of Seltz--he must have it.”
”No. He also has been searched, with the same results.”
”May I ask what you are looking for?” asked Duvall, calmly.
”You know, well enough, Duvall,” exclaimed Mayer, turning on him. ”Oh, yes--I know your name. The examination of your baggage showed that. As soon as I wired to London and discovered that the man Seltz had left there last night, I knew how we had been fooled. One of our men saw the snuff box in your possession just before you left the hotel to go to the house of Mr. Phelps. What have you done with it?”
Duvall regarded his questioner calmly. ”I do not know what you are talking about, gentlemen. I have no snuff box, nor do I use tobacco in that form. And now, if you have concluded this outrage upon an American citizen, perhaps you will let me return quietly to my hotel. If you do not, I promise you you shall pay heavily for it.”
His words, for the moment, seemed to disconcert the two men. Then Mayer laughed, ”Nothing but bluff, young man--American bluff. I know who you are. You followed Seltz here from London, and got the snuff box from him by a trick. Now tell us where it is.”
The detective smiled. ”I do not know what you are talking about,” he said, quietly.
Dr. Hartmann growled out an oath. ”Take off his things, Mayer. He may have the box in his clothing somewhere--or the heel of his boot. I'll get a dressing-gown, from above.” He left the room, and Duvall heard him clanking up the iron staircase.
”If you insist on removing my clothes,” he said to Mayer, ”I prefer to do so myself.” He rapidly stripped off his evening suit and shoes, and threw them upon the floor.
The man gathered them up, feeling each article carefully, and testing the heels of the boots with a knife which he drew from his pocket. He appeared greatly disappointed at not finding the object of his search.
Then he again examined Duvall, feeling his person from head to toe with great care. He had just finished when the doctor returned with a long gray woolen dressing gown, which he tossed to the detective.
”He's hidden it somewhere. He hasn't got it with him,” Mayer exclaimed, angrily.
”Take him to the small bedroom in the west wing,” said the doctor.
”We'll get it out of him, before we're through. You can leave the clothes in the laboratory.” He cast his eye about the room to see that nothing had been forgotten. Duvall trembled, thinking of the hat lying unseen behind the packing case in the corner. Hartmann, however, did not observe it. Without saying anything further he threw open the door, and they all pa.s.sed into the little hall.
From there, Duvall was led up the iron staircase to the floor above, and found himself in a large room which he took to be the doctor's laboratory. It was dimly lit by means of a reading-lamp. He had a confused vision of a number of scientific appliances, bulking huge and forbidding in the shadows, and then was conducted through a gla.s.s door and along a corridor similar to the one through which he and the doctor had so recently pa.s.sed on the floor below. He judged, from the direction they were taking, that it was directly above the lower pa.s.sageway, and led back to the main part of the house.
In this he soon found that he was correct. A door at the end of the corridor gave entrance to the upper central hall of the main building.
He was led off to the right, catching a momentary glimpse of a woman attendant sitting in a chair near the head of the stairs as he pa.s.sed.
In a few moments Hartmann paused before a door, threw it open, and turned on the lights. The detective saw before him a well-furnished bedroom, with two large windows, and another door, which he later found gave entrance to a bathroom. The dark shadows against the night light without showed him at once that the windows were barred.