Part 36 (1/2)

Hi wouldn't dare disturb 'im now, sir.”

”You had better dare. This is very important to him. But don't mention it to anyone else, for it would worry his wife and daughter.”

As Burke was speaking, a big fas.h.i.+onable car drew up behind the one in which Captain Sawyer sat, awaiting developments. A young man, wearing a light overcoat, whose open fold displayed a dinner coat, descended and approached the door.

”What's the trouble here?” he curtly inquired.

”None of your business,” snapped Burke, who recognized the fiance, Ralph Gresham.

”Don't you sauce me--I'll find out myself.”

The butler bowed as Gresham approached.

”Come in, sir. Miss Trubus is hexpecting you, sir. This person is wyting to see Mr. Trubus, sir.”

Gresham, with an angry look at the calm policeman, went inside.

The door shut. Burke for a minute regretted that he had not insisted on admission. It might have been possible for Trubus to have received some sort of warning. The ”best-laid plans of mice and men” had one bad habit, as Burke recollected, just at the moment when success was apparently within grasp.

But the door opened again. The smug countenance, the neatly brushed ”mutton-chops,” the immaculate dinner coat of William Trubus appeared, and Bobbie looked up into the angry glint of the gentleman's black eyes.

”What do you mean by annoying me here? Why didn't you telephone me?”

began the owner of the mansion. ”I am just going out to dinner.”

He looked sharply at Burke, vaguely remembering the face of the young officer. Bobbie quietly stepped to his side and caught the k.n.o.b of the big door, shutting it softly behind Trubus.

”Why, you....”

Before he could finish Burke had deftly clipped one handcuff on the right wrist of the man and with an unexpected movement pinioned the other, snapping the manacle as he did so.

”Outrageous!” exclaimed the astounded Trubus. But Burke was dragging him rapidly into the car.

”If you don't want your wife to know about this, get in quickly,”

commanded Sawyer sharply.

Trubus began to expostulate, but his thick lips quivered with emotion.

”Down to the station house, quick!” ordered the captain to the chauffeur. ”No speed limit.”

”I'll have you discharged from the force for this, you scoundrel!”

Trubus finally found words to say. ”Where is your warrant for my arrest? What is your charge?”

Sawyer did not answer.

As they reached a subway station he called out to the driver:

”Stop a minute. Now, Burke, you had better go uptown and get the witness; hurry right down, for I want to end this matter to-night.”

Bobbie dismounted, while Trubus stormed in vain. As the car sped onward he saw the president of the Purity League indulging in language quite alien to the Scriptural quotations which were his usual stock in discourse. Captain Sawyer was puffing a cigar and watching the throng on the sidewalks as though he were stone deaf.