Part 42 (1/2)
His friend shook a vigorous warning. Barnes stopped.
”Yes, and two what?”
”Well, you see, the doorbell rang”----
”Yes, you said that!” snapped Captain Stone. ”The doorbell rang and two”----
”Yes, and two minutes after that it rang again--rang in an extraordinary kind of way, you know, as if whoever was ringing it--was ringing it because--because they wanted to come in--come in in a hurry, you see.
Well, I went to the door”----
”Why did _you_ go to the door?” demanded Captain Stone.
”Well, you see, the bell rang”----
”Don't go back to that again! Why did you go to the door?”
”Well, I can't at this minute remember exactly, but I'm under the impression I went to--to find out who was ringing the bell, just like that, as it were.”
”That's enough of you,” snorted Captain Stone. ”Ryan (to one of his men) take this one and slip the nippers on him.”
”See here, Captain, I can explain this.”--Travers Gladwin essayed again, as he saw his friend struggling in the grip of a blue-coated giant and spluttering his protests against being handcuffed.
”You can't explain anything to me,” was the best he got from Captain Stone.
During this spirited dialogue the thief had gone to the side of Helen Burton, who had remained motionless where she had risen from her chair, playing the part of a helpless victim in the seemingly hopeless tangle.
”Now then, Helen,” he said to her in his old tone of endearment, ”we can go. You see where this impostor stands.”
”With you--no!”
There was no mistaking the uncompromising emphasis of her denial.
Captain Stone set out to distribute his prisoners, motioning to one policeman to take care of Gladwin and to another to look after the j.a.p, who would be needed as a witness.
He came last to Helen just as she had repulsed the man she was to have eloped with that night. Captain Stone had had experience enough with women to be able to distinguish between types. He was on the point of ordering another of his men to take charge of Helen when he paused and studied her more closely. His men were starting for the door with their prisoners when he signalled them to stop.
”Wait,” he said, ”I wish to question this lady.”
He turned to Helen, when there came swiftly into the room Lieutenant Detective Kearney of the Central Office.
Kearney was every inch a Central Office man, and had been long enough at Headquarters to lose the heavy bovine set of the man who pounds the pavement. A strapping big fellow, with graying hair and a pair of round bullet eyes that searched you with needle points, his very appearance was sufficient corroboration of all the thrilling stories the newspapers printed of his skill and courage.
”h.e.l.lo, Kearney! What do you want?” Captain Stone addressed him as he stopped in the doorway and surveyed the remarkable scene before him.
”I'm looking for Travers Gladwin,” replied the detective shortly.
”I'm Travers Gladwin,” spoke up the thief, easily, but holding his head so that Kearney could see only the profile.
”That's my name!” exclaimed Travers Gladwin in the same breath with the impostor.