Part 29 (2/2)
His eyes revealed nothing. There was no rush of color to or from his face. His first change of expression was to smile.
Dropping the arm that poised the knife, he let himself down easily from tiptoe and turned squarely to Gladwin.
”Good evening, Officer,” he said without a tremor, showing his teeth in as engaging a smile as Travers Gladwin had ever looked upon.
”Evenin'!” said Gladwin, shortly, with an admirable affectation of Phelan's brogue.
”Do you find something on the balcony that interests you?” said the other slowly, still holding his smile and his amazingly confident bearing.
”You climbed up there to enjoy the moonlight, perhaps?” he added, even more softly, gaining rea.s.surance from the wooden expression that Gladwin had forced upon his features.
”No, not the moonlight,” responded the uniformed similitude of Officer 666, ”the other light. I seen 'em go on. This house has been closed for months.”
”Oh, yes, to be sure,” the other shrugged. ”You're most alert, Officer--right on the job, as they say. I congratulate you.”
”I've been watching this house ever since Mr. Gladwin went away,” said Gladwin slowly, unable to make up his mind whether to call Phelan or to continue the intensely interesting dialogue.
His visitor decided the situation for him by coolly lighting a cigar, taking a few deliberate puffs and turning it over in his fingers to inspect it as if it were the only object worth attention in the room.
Gladwin read this elaborate by-play for what it was worth--an effort to decide just how best to play his part--and was pleasantly thrilled with the realization that he himself was so well disguised in the uniform of Officer 666.
So he clung to his own role and forgot Michael Phelan.
”H'm,” said the invader, reflectively. ”That's very good of you, Officer. Let me offer you this as a slight token of my appreciation.”
His left hand slid into his trousers pocket and brought up a roll of bills. His nonchalance was a perfect mask as he stripped off one of the bills and held it out carelessly to Gladwin.
On his part, Gladwin's expression was superbly blank as he reached for the bill, pocketed it and said with his purring brogue:
”Thank ye, sorr! And might I ask who ye are?”
”H'm, that's good,” chuckled the other, now thoroughly master of himself and utterly confident.
”Now, who do you suppose, Officer, would come to the front door--unlock it--walk in and turn up the lights?--a thief?”
”They do sometimes,” said Gladwin, c.o.c.king his head to one side with an air of owlish wisdom.
The other raised his eyebrows to express surprise.
”Do they really?” he drawled. ”You amaze me, Officer. I've always supposed they broke in somehow and used dark lanterns.”
”Not always,” said Gladwin, obstinately.
The big man shrugged his shoulders contemptuously, puffed his cigar for a moment and said indulgently:
”Well, I'm sorry, Officer, to deprive you of the pleasure you would evidently derive in catching a thief and making an arrest. Now,” with a light laugh, ”who might you imagine I was?”
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