Part 28 (2/2)
It was commencing to snow; great, soft, feathery flakes which lighted upon her as softly as thistledown and melted each in a single glistening drop like a tear. The air was coldly still and the sky a sheet of lead.
”Have I kept you waiting long, Dan?” she asked as he tucked the robe about her. ”I'm sorry, I hope you've not been cold. It looks as though we were in for a real storm, doesn't it?”
”I wisht it'd come down a regular blizzard, Miss,” he responded dourly.
”Then maybe we could shake off the boys that have been hangin' on my trail for dear life! It's not cold I've been, sitting here trying to figure out how to stall them, but hot under the collar! Where to, Miss? It don't make any partic'lar difference, they'll be right along behind!”
”Then around the Park, please, Dan. You can tell me about them as we go.”
She snuggled down in the soft robes as the car leapt and fled like a lithe gray cat through the storm. Her thoughts were busy with the new problem; these followers were Wiley's men, of course. He had boasted that he would have more able tools to aid him in the future than Vernon had proved. Where had he obtained them?
”Are they professional detectives, do you think, Dan?” she asked.
He needed but the word to start him.
”They are that! I was chauffeur once for a private detective agency, and I know them and their ways, though these fellows seem to have a new wrinkle or two. It started a couple of nights ago when I was waiting in the garage for a call from you, Miss. A fine big, new touring car was edged in beside mine and the chauffeur, a little dark feller, began talkin' to me. I remembered what you'd told me, and keepin' my own mouth shut, I let him rave. In just about ten minutes I knew it was all bunk; he was tellin' too much, tryin' too hard to get thick with me all of a sudden. His gentleman was a free-handed sport and what was good enough for him was none too good for his driver; champagne, the fellow wanted me to go out and have with him, and I couldn't tell you what-all, Miss.”
”I rather expected that,” Willa nodded.
”Then, when I got home to my boardin'-house, there was a new lodger in the room next to mine, a long-legged, sandy-haired galoot. The same thing began again; he came in to borry a match and stayed half the night. I let him down easy, though if I hadn't remembered your instructions I'd be after sendin' him home through his own transom!
Everywhere I've been for the last two days, barber shop and all, I've been tailed. It's fun if you look at it in one way, but it gets my goat, too. If you say the word, Miss, I'll sail in and lick the bunch of them!”
”No, Dan; not yet,” Willa smiled. ”The man behind them is responsible and he's been punished for the time being, anyway. How many men are trailing us? I haven't looked back.”
”I made sure of three, but they may be strung out after us like an Irish funeral, for all I know,” replied Dan, gloomily. ”My chauffeur friend is on a motor cycle now, my red-headed neighbor is in a runabout, and a strange feller in a big car. There's small chance of losing them, I'm thinkin'.”
”Then drive straight to that apartment-house from which the two taxicabs followed us the other day. They've spotted me there already, you see, and I've no doubt they've investigated there, so another visit won't do any harm. Wait around the corner for me, as you did the last time.”
Willa alighted before the shabby vestibule and without a glance to right or left made her way in and pressed a b.u.t.ton marked ”Lopez.” The front door clicked a prompt response and she ran lightly up two flights of dark and dingy stairs.
A thin, sallow little woman with soft, black eyes awaited her at an opened door and ushered her into the stuffy garish front parlor where she eyed her visitor in palpable nervousness.
”How are my friends?” Willa asked without preamble. ”They are quite comfortable at your mother's house? You have heard from her?”
”Ah, yes!” The woman replied with the slightest trace of a Latin accent. ”The young lad has been suffering a little with his back, pobrecito! It is the climate here, no doubt, but my mother rubs him with a remedy of her own making and he is soothed.”
”And the Senora?”
The woman hesitated visibly.
”She--she sits all day by her fire and talks but seldom, yet she seems well.”
”They understand why I have not been to see them?” Willa eyed her narrowly, for the woman's agitation boded ill.
”Yes. They ask when you will come, but they know it must not be for a time.” The Senora Lopez paused, and then added in a swift rush: ”My mother bakes for them tortillas and they are pleased together. Jose begs my mother to tell him of Spain, but the old Senora, she has not the interest. It is always as if she waited, but she is content.”
Willa nodded. The description was such as she had antic.i.p.ated, yet despite the volubility of the other's a.s.surance, the suggestion of something odd and furtive remained.
<script>