Part 41 (1/2)

He had already given the order to an agency for the shadowing, and his next move was to start me out, also, looking into the history of those concerned in the case. As far as I was able to determine, Dr. Vaughn had an excellent reputation, and I could find no reason whatever for his connection with anything of the nature of the Red Lodge. The Rapports seemed to be nearly unknown in New York, although it was reported that they had come from Paris lately. Mrs. Langhorne was a divorcee from one of the western states, but little was known about her, except that she always seemed to be well supplied with money. It seemed to be well known in the circle in which Seward Blair moved that he was friendly with her, and I had about reached the conclusion that she was unscrupulously making use of his friends.h.i.+p, perhaps was not above such a thing as blackmail.

Thus the day pa.s.sed, and we heard no word from Veda Blair, although that was explained by the shadows, whose trails crossed in a most unexpected manner. Their reports showed that there was a meeting at the Red Lodge during the late afternoon, at which all had been present except Dr. Vaughn. We learned also from them the exact location of the Lodge, in an old house just across the line in Westchester.

It was evidently a long and troublesome a.n.a.lysis that Craig was engaged in at the laboratory, for it was some hours after dinner that night when he came into the apartment, and even then he said nothing, but buried himself in some of the technical works with which his library was stocked. He said little, but I gathered that he was in great doubt about something, perhaps, as much as anything, about how to proceed with so peculiar a case.

It was growing late, and Kennedy was still steeped in his books, when the door of the apartment, which we happened to have left unlocked, was suddenly thrown open and Seward Blair burst in on us, wildly excited.

”Veda is gone!” he cried, before either of us could ask him what was the matter.

”Gone?” repeated Kennedy. ”How--where?”

”I don't know,” Blair blurted out breathlessly. ”We had been out together this afternoon, and I returned with her. Then I went out to the club after dinner for a while, and when I got back I missed her--not quarter of an hour ago. I burst into her room--and there I found this note. Read it. I don't know what to do. No one seems to know what has become of her. I've called up all over and then thought perhaps you might help me, might know some friend of hers that I don't know, with whom she might have gone out.”

Blair was plainly eager for us to help him. Kennedy took the paper from him. On it, in a trembling hand, were scrawled some words, evidently addressed to Blair himself:

”You would forgive me and pity me if you knew what I have been through.

”When I refused to yield my will to the will of the Lodge I suppose I aroused the enmity of the Lodge.

”To-night as I lay in bed, alone, I felt that my hour had come, that mental forces that were almost irresistible were being directed against me.

”I realized that I must fight not only for my sanity but for my life.

”For hours I have fought that fight.

”But during those hours, some one, I won't say who, seemed to have developed such psychic faculties of penetration that they were able to make their bodies pa.s.s through the walls of my room.

”At last I am conquered. I pray that you--”

The writing broke off abruptly, as if she had left it in wild flight.

”What does that mean?” asked Kennedy, ”the 'will of the Lodge'?”

Blair looked at us keenly. I fancied that there was even something accusatory in the look. ”Perhaps it was some mental reservation on her part,” he suggested. ”You do not know yourself of any reason why she should fear anything, do you?” he asked pointedly.

Kennedy did not betray even by the motion of an eyelash that we knew more than we should ostensibly.

There was a tap at the door. I sprang to open it, thinking perhaps, after all, it was Veda herself.

Instead, a man, a stranger, stood there.

”Is this Professor Kennedy?” he asked, touching his hat.

Craig nodded.

”I am from the psychopathic ward of the City Hospital--an orderly, sir,” the man introduced.

”Yes,” encouraged Craig, ”what can I do for you?”

”A Mrs. Blair has just been brought in, sir, and we can't find her husband. She's calling for you now.”