Part 5 (2/2)
”No--no--wait!” gasped the struggling prisoner. ”You no say if I tell you, plees?”
”Tell me first,” grunted Phelan, releasing his grip.
The j.a.p ducked his head in every direction as if fearful that the walls had ears, then said in an impressive whisper:
”My boss--Mr. Gladwin--home!”
”Misther Gladwin home! Here in New York!” There was both incredulity and amazement in Phelan's voice.
”Ees!” bleated the j.a.p and his grin returned.
”Well, why didn't you say so before?” said Phelan angrily, at which the fidgety little brown son of Nippon hastened to explain:
”No one should know. He come all in much secret. He go boat to Boston.
No use name. No one know he Mr. Gladwin. He say, 'Bateato'--me Bateato--'Bateato,' he say, 'no tell I come home--sure,' he say, and Bateato he no tell.”
Officer Phelan yielded to the grip of the mystery and his att.i.tude toward the j.a.p changed.
”What did he want to snake home that away fer?”
”I no know,” nodded Bateato.
”Yez no know, eh? Well, is he comin' here?--do yez no know that?”
”He tell me--come here and wait--feex thees room--he come here or telephone.”
The straightforward manner of the little j.a.p had almost completely disarmed the policeman's suspicion, but he surrendered reluctantly.
”Did he give yez a key to get in here?” Phelan fired as his last shot.
”Ees--he give me all bunch keys--look!” and Bateato produced a gold key ring with a gold tag and a number of keys attached. Phelan examined it and read aloud the name Travers Gladwin engraved on the tag. Handing them back to the j.a.p, he addressed him impressively, gesturing his emphasis with his baton:
”I guess yez're all right, but I'll have me eye on yez from the outside, mind that--and if yez're foolin' me or tryin' to get away with anythin'”----
Phelan snapped his lips together and with a mighty lunge plucked an imaginary prisoner out of the atmosphere and shook it ferociously.
Then stepping back to the doorway he shut one eye with a fierce wink and jerked out:
”Are yez wise?”
The profound pantomime was too much for Bateato, who stared after the vanis.h.i.+ng officer in open-mouthed amazement.
CHAPTER VIII.
ART, MYSTERY AND LOVE.
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