Part 47 (1/2)

”I'll settle that fresh kid!” Kearney e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, and made a break for the stairs.

His departure was Wilson's cue to let himself down from the chimney.

He signalled Watkins, who was sitting in the hall. Watkins glided in.

”By George!” exclaimed Wilson, ”we are going it some in here. You certainly are taking big chances b.u.t.ting in. I didn't think you had the nerve. It's a hundred to one against me, but I've beaten bigger odds than that. You get up that chimney and I'll plant myself in the chest. Quick, they're coming down again.”

Watkins went up the chimney with the sinuous speed of a snake, and the picture expert went into the chest with the agility of a wolf spider ducking into its trap.

They were coming from all directions this time--Gladwin down the stairs, about fourteen jumps ahead of Kearney, proclaiming that he would telephone his lawyer and that he could put up $5,000,000 in bonds for bail if need be. Phelan was coming through the front door and Captain Stone through the hallway from the kitchen.

Glimpsing Gladwin, Phelan made a flying dive for him, yelling, ”I got him! I got him!”

They rolled on the floor in a heap.

”Have you got him, Phelan?” cried Captain Stone, rus.h.i.+ng through the room and into the hallway.

”I have, sorr,” responded Phelan, proudly, getting to his feet and pulling up his captive.

”What the devil's this,” bawled Captain Stone, recognizing Gladwin.

”The thief, sorr,” responded Phelan.

”The thief, h.e.l.l! That's Mr. Gladwin!”

”W-w-w-what?” stuttered Phelan. Once again he entered into a condition of complete mental paralysis.

”Has he hurt you, sir?” asked the captain, solicitously, noticing that Gladwin's face was writhing.

”Nothing mortal,” winced the young man.

”What's the matter with you, Phelan,” the captain jumped on him. ”Have you been drunk to-day?”

”No, sorr,” gurgled Phelan, ”I”----

”Don't try to stop me, officer, I've come for my niece,” crashed the shrill voice of Mrs. Elvira Burton. She had seized a dramatic moment for her re-entry.

CHAPTER x.x.xIX.

PILING ON PHELAN'S AGONY.

Mrs. Burton would have arrived much earlier into the midst of the maelstrom of events at the Gladwin mansion had not Fate in the shape of a tire-blowout intervened.

She had set out from Police Headquarters with Detective Kearney as a pa.s.senger and she had urged her red-headed chauffeur to pay not the slightest heed to speed laws or any other laws. He had obeyed with such enthusiasm that the blowout had occurred at the intersection of Fifth avenue and Forty-second street.

Late as the hour was there was a large crowd gathered to hear the society leader of Omaha deliver a lecture in strange French and caustic English.

Kearney had transs.h.i.+pped to a taxicab, which accounted for his earlier arrival.