Part 44 (1/2)

No sooner was Jim in the hallway than he was set upon and overpowered.

They had in this house what was known as ”the punishment room.” Here traitors paid the reckoning and were never more heard of. Into this room Jim was unceremoniously dropped when Braine found that he could get no information from the resolute reporter.

The room did not look sinister, but for all that it possessed the faculty of growing smaller and smaller, slowly or swiftly, as the man above at the lever willed. When Jim was apprised of this fact, he ran madly about in search of some mode of escape, knowing full well in his heart that he should not find one.

Presently the machinery began to work, and Norton's tongue grew dry with terror. They had him this time; there was not the least doubt of it. And they had led him there by the nose into the bargain.

Twenty minutes pa.s.sed, and Jones concluded it was time for him to act.

He went forward to try the door, but this time it was locked. Jones, however, was not without resource. The house next door was vacant, and he found a way into this, finally reaching the roof. From this he jumped to the other roof, found the scuttle open, and crept down the stairs, flight after flight, till the whir of a motor arrested him.

Conspirators are often overeager, too. So intent were the rascals upon the business at hand that they did not notice the door open slowly. It did not take the butler more than a moment to realize that his friend and ally was near certain death. With an oath he sprang into the room, gave Braine a push which sent him down to join the victim, and pitched into the other two. It was a battle royal while it lasted. Jones knocked down one of them, yelled to Norton, and kicked the rope he saw down into the pit. One end of this rope was attached to a ring in the wall. And up this rope Norton swarmed after he had disposed of Braine.

The tide of battle then swung about in favor of the butler, and shortly the fake reporter and his companion were made to join their chief.

Jones stopped the machinery. He could not bring himself to let his enemies die so horribly. Later he knew he would regret this sentiment.

When the people came, summoned by some outsider who had heard the racket of the conflict, there was no one to be found in the pit. Nor was there any visible sign of an exit.

There was one, however, built against such an hour and known only to the chiefs of the Black Hundred.

And still the golden-tinted banknotes reposed tranquilly in their hiding place!

CHAPTER XVIII

About this time--that is to say, about the time the Black Hundred was stretching out its powerful secret arms toward Norton--there arrived in New York city a personage. This personage was the Princess Parlova, a fabulously rich Polish Russian. She leased a fine house near Central Park and set about to conquer social New York. This was not very difficult, for her t.i.tle was perfectly genuine and she moved in the most exclusive diplomatic circle in Europe, which, as everybody knows, is the most brilliant in the world. When the new home was completely decorated she gave an elaborate dinner, and that attracted the newspapers. They began to talk about her highness, printed portraits of her, and devoted a page occasionally in the Sunday editions. She became something of a rage. One morning it was announced that the Princess Parlova would give a masked ball formally to open her home to society; and it was this notice that first brought the Princess Parlova under Braine's eyes. He was at the Perigoff apartment at the time.

”Well, well,” he mused aloud.

”What is it?” asked Olga, turning away from the piano and ending one of Chopin's mazurkas brokenly.

”Here is the Princess Parlova in town.”

”And who is she?”

”She is the real thing, Olga; a real princess with vast estates in Poland with which the greedy Slav next door has been very gentle.”

”I haven't paid much attention to the social news lately. What about her?”

”She is giving a masked ball formally to open her house on the West Side. And it's going to cost a pretty penny.”

”Well, you're not telling me this to make me want to know the princess,” said Olga, petulantly.

”No. But I'm going to give you a letter of introduction to her highness.”

”Oh!”

”And you are going to ask her to invite two particular friends of yours to this wonderful ball of hers.”

”Indeed,” ironically. ”That sounds all very easy.”