Part 10 (1/2)

”Jane Atwood!” was the sharp reply.

With that Marsh stooped and took the unconscious girl up in his arms, the unusual tenderness and care of his movements being plainly apparent. Carrying her into his apartment, while the others followed, Marsh laid her gently on a davenport in the living room.

”She must have had a shock of some kind and fainted,” exclaimed Morgan.

”No,” returned Marsh, as he softly smoothed back the hair from her forehead, disclosing a bruise that was now rapidly discoloring and swelling. ”Somebody knocked her insensible.” Then added, ”You sent your man away too soon, Morgan.”

”My G.o.d!” burst out Morgan. ”What nerve! To think of pulling anything like this in a house full of detectives.”

”We have a tough customer this time,” declared Marsh. ”Ordinary methods won't go. Watch her while I get some water.”

Marsh went to the bathroom for a towel and some cold water. In the meantime Morgan turned sharply to Tierney.

”From now on, while we work on this case, your job is to stand outside of every door I enter.”

Tierney grinned. To some men it might have seemed that they were being thrust into the background. To Tierney, however, the work immediately presented possibilities that stirred his fighting Irish blood. Without a word he went out into the public hall and closed the door behind him.

Marsh returned, and began to bathe the girl's forehead and the bruise with the cold water. While he worked over her, the photographer approached Morgan and held out an envelope.

”After your friend here picked the girl up,” he explained, ”I noticed this lying near her.”

Morgan took the envelope. After a hasty glance he extended it to Marsh. ”A letter to this girl with a St. Louis postmark!” he gasped.

”Good!” exclaimed Marsh, without stopping his work to revive the girl. ”Just what I have been watching for. Open it.”

Morgan understood. Turning to the photographer, he handed back the envelope. ”Slip into the kitchen, steam this open and make a quick copy.” Then, noticing the case on the floor beside the man, he added, ”Finished your work upstairs?”

The man nodded.

”Then make a photograph of this letter at the same time. The handwriting may prove useful.”

Taking the letter and picking up his case, the man went back to the kitchen. Morgan turned to Marsh.

”How is she coming on?” he inquired.

There was a slight flutter of the eyelids as he spoke and Marsh called his attention to it. ”She will be all right in a moment,” he said.

Presently Jane Atwood's eyes opened slowly, and she gazed in a bewildered and uncomprehending way at the two men bending anxiously over her. Marsh continued to bathe her forehead and gradually she seemed to realize her position. She struggled slowly into a sitting position on the davenport while the two men stood back, awaiting her first words. Contrary to the usual idea of feminine return to consciousness, she did not inquire where she was. Instead she startled the two men by asking, ”Did you get him?”

”Get who?” counter questioned Marsh, taking the lead.

”The man who was outside the door,” was the reply.

Marsh and Morgan exchanged quick glances. To them it was a confirmation that the listener of the night before was still seeking information about the case in hand. Moreover, here might be a clue to his ident.i.ty, or at least a description that would prove helpful, so Marsh seated himself on the davenport at her side, while Morgan went to a chair across the room.

Both men knew instinctively that this would put the girl more at her ease than if they continued to stand over her like inquisitors.

Marsh continued the conversation. ”We know nothing about what happened,” he said. ”We heard a scream. When we opened the door you were lying there. No one was around except two policemen who came down from the third floor at that moment, having also heard your cry.”

After this simple statement of the situation, Marsh paused, waiting for the girl to go on. He felt that in her dazed and weakened condition questions would still further bewilder her, might even cause a revulsion that would delay or prevent their getting information that would prove of inestimable value.

The girl paused, as if to collect her thoughts, and pa.s.sed her hand before her eyes with a motion similar to sweeping aside a curtain.