Chester K. Steele

“ The detective listened attentively, but only a faint murmur of voices reached his ears. The counterfeiters were having an animated discussion over something, but they were on their guard so that not even their prisoner might hear.
"Wonder why they are so careful?" mused the detective grimly. "If they are going to take my life I don't see what difference it will make whether I know their secrets or not."
Adam Adams was not the man to give in easily. Upon every case where his services were called for, he usually "kept at it" until every possibility was exhausted. ”

“ When Adam Adams entered the sick room he found Margaret sitting up in bed with several pillows behind her head. She gazed at him in perplexity and then gave a slight shiver.
"You—you have come to take me to prison," she cried.
"Not at all, Miss Langmore," he answered, dropping into a chair by her side. "You shall never go to prison if I can prevent it. But I came to see you about something else. Do you feel a bit stronger?" ”

“ It was a battle of one man against nine and the space was so small that Adam Adams could not turn himself. He drew his pistol, but while one man held his wrist another wrenched the weapon from his grasp. Then the detective went down and was severely kicked and pummelled, until to resist further was out of the question.
"He ought to be killed!" cried one man. ”

“ And now—
"Then they suspect the servant girl?" queried Adam Adams, knowing they did nothing of the sort.
"No!" came sharply. "They suspect Margaret—Miss Langmore."
"Ah!"
"Yes. It is—is preposterous—absurd, but they insist. And that is what has brought me to you. I want to prove her innocence to the world. Do that, and you can name your own price, Mr. Adams."
"You have a high regard for the young lady—you are close friends?"
"More. I may as well tell you, though so far Margaret and I have kept the matter more or less a secret. I love her and we are engaged to be married." ”

“ Margaret Langmore gave a long sigh. "Oh, Mr. Adams, can you not do something for me? It is horrible to be suspected in this fashion. I cannot make a move without being watched!"
"It is certainly a cruel situation." The detective paused. "I am sure of one thing, Miss Langmore."
"And that is—"
"That you are innocent. Those who think you are guilty are fools, as
Mr. Case says."
"Yet more than half the folks around here think that way."
"Let them. We'll set to work to prove their mistake."
"Good!" almost shouted Raymond Case, and his face broke out into a look of relief. ”

“ The girl ran over, opened the closet door, and began an immediate examination.
"One pair is missing—a pair I use a great deal, too," she said a minute later. "Oh, Mr. Adams, what does this mean?"
"I don't know—yet. While you are at it, you might let me know if anything else is missing."
Margaret began a close examination of everything in the closet, the detective watching her as keenly as he had before.
"She is either innocent, or else the greatest actress I've ever met," was his mental conclusion. "I think her innocent, but the best of us get tripped up at times. ”

“ The place was new to her.
"I want to know where you are taking me," she said presently, and came to a halt.
"To a place where you will be safe."
"That isn't answering the question."
"We'll be there in a few minutes, and then you can see for yourself, Margaret. Cannot you trust me, girl? I'm not going to hurt you. I love you, and I'll do all I can to help you. Come!" And again he made her move on.
At last they came in sight of a tumbled-down cottage on the edge of what had once been a clearing, but which was now overgrown with weeds and brushwood. ”

“ Quickly the detective pulled a large atomizer from his pocket. Then, as the man walked back to the Styles' farmhouse, the dog turned and disappeared in the bushes as if following a trail.
"Don't come here, old lady," muttered the detective, as he stood on guard, with the atomizer ready for use. "If you do you'll be sorry."
The mastiff was following Adam Adams' trail and in a minute more she came up and set up a fierce growl. Then she made a savage leap forward.
The detective might have finished her with a shot from his pistol, for he was an expert marksman. ”

“ The counterfeiters had started to draw lots, to see who should be the one to do the detective to death. Then had come an interruption, in the shape of an important message, and the detective had been bundled off by himself, while the communication was under discussion.
Adam Adams knew that his situation was a desperate one. The counterfeiters were a gang who would stop at nothing to keep their secrets. The only one who appeared to be at all timid was the fellow known as Number Four. Possibly if he could get this fellow alone and work on his feelings Number Four might aid him. ”

“ She remembered the scene at the inquest, and remembered how she had fainted, and how Raymond had supported her and taken her to the nurse's house. Then she remembered how the coroner's jury had accused her of the terrible crime, and she gave a deep shudder.
"Poor, dear father," she murmured. "Who could have been so wicked as to take your life?"
An hour went by, and she prepared to leave the cottage, when a shadow fell across the window, and Matlock Styles appeared. He spoke a few low words to the old woman, and the latter walked away.
As the man entered the room, Margaret arose and faced him. ”

“ In deep thought the detective went back to the neighborhood of the mansion and stationed himself where he could get a look at the library windows.
Adam Adams felt that the case was growing deeper and deeper. The finding of the counterfeit banknotes in Barry Langmore's safe was astonishing. Where this thread of the skein would lead to he could not imagine.
"I seem to be uncovering more than I bargained for," he mused. "If the man was innocent of all wrong-doing why didn't he turn those bills over to the authorities? Were he alive we should certainly say he was caught with the goods. ”

“ Isn't it funny that one can think a thing out in one's sleep? And it's so very clear now—as clear as crystal—and it was so dark and muddled before. Will they give me a trial?"
He started in spite of himself. "Please don't think of that now, Margaret, I beg of you. Lie down and try to sleep. I have sent for another doctor, a specialist. He will be here soon."
"A specialist? How can he help me? You hired that Mr. Adam Adams but he has deserted me. ”

“ I thought it was about a patent. I learned that Mr. Watkins worked for the United States government and I thought it was for the patent office."
"Then that is all, Miss Langmore." The detective arose and held out his hand. "Now take good care of yourself and do not worry. Matters are bound to come out right in the end."
"But how can they be better for me?" Margaret's face took on its worried look again. "They have proved that I am guilty."
"You are not guilty," said Adam Adams firmly and looking her squarely in the eyes. "You are not guilty. I say so, and I know. Do not worry. ”

“ Fortunately Adam Adams had but little with him outside of a roll of bankbills and the material for several disguises. Matlock Styles allowed him to keep his money but placed the disguises on the table.
"That looks as if you were an honest man," said he with a sneer. "Honest men don't go around in this fashion. You're the man, beyond a bloody doubt, and I am going to hand you over to the police. Nelson!"
At the call the mastiff came up and looked inquiringly at his master.
"Sit down in that chair," continued the Englishman to Adam Adams, shoving him backward on a seat. ”

“ It can't be hid any longer! Yes, I did it!"
"Where is Miss Langmore?" demanded Raymond impatiently.
"At the cottage on the hill. Mat took her there. He's in love with her. Oh, dear! Oh, dear!" she began to rock to and fro again. "I knew it would come! Murder will out, they say!"
"Take us to that cottage and be quick about it," said Raymond. "Will you go along?" he asked of Adam Adams and Tom Ostrello. ”

“ By instinct, he blew out the lantern and listened. The noise was that from footsteps at a distance. Then he heard a murmur of voices, quickly growing louder.
"They have discovered my escape," he told himself. And then he blamed himself for not having made better use of his time in an endeavor to get away.
He stepped out of the vault, and listened with strained ears. The counterfeiters had separated, and were searching in all directions for him.
"If they come this way, I'll have to fight," he reasoned. "I might as well die that way, as to be killed in cold blood." ”

“ He wants the truth from you, and he wants it right away."
"Clews? Against him? He is crazy. I never put out a single clew against him. Why should I? Wasn't it arranged that we should fix it against the girl, and didn't I even go to the trouble to spy on Langmore and get the combination of the safe—although it didn't do any good. And then after the job was done, didn't I—" The secret service man came to an abrupt stop, as if fearing he had said too much. "Look here, did he tell you all this, or is this some game?"
"Hey!" exclaimed Adam Adams, pretending to be amazed. ”

“ Traveled for a paint house, but he and the firm had a row and Dick quit. He's a rolling stone, and that is why I can't just locate him."
"Do you represent a paint house, too?" questioned Adam Adams, after a pause, during which he appeared to enjoy the really fragrant Havana Tom Ostrello had tended him.
"No, I'm with a drug house and have been for four years, one of the best in the country, Alexander & Company, of Rochester, New York. I am their salesman for New York and the Eastern States. We make some of the most noted preparations in the trade." ”

“ Wait, I'll get the vial it was in. Perhaps there is a whiff left in it."
"Thanks, but do you think I want to die?" queried the detective, and gave a laugh.
When the empty vial was produced he opened it and took a short sniff.
Then he drew his breath in sharply. A faint odor was perceptible, the
same odor he had detected in the carpet on the upper hallway of the
Langmore mansion.
"Do you smell it?" questioned the physician.
"Yes, but not very well. I don't think it will affect me much."
"I trust not, my dear Adams. We cannot afford to lose you. Now, what is it all about?" ”

“ The detective pushed the blinds of the window open and began to examine the carpet on the floor.
"We've looked around, but we couldn't see a thing," pursued the woman.
"We? Who?"
"The coroner and the police officers."
"Oh! You say the body was lying right here?"
"Yes—the head there, and the feet there. I suppose you are going to try to clear Miss Langmore, aren't you?" went on Mrs. Morse curiously.
"I am—if she is innocent."
"You'll have a task doing it. Everybody around here thinks her guilty."
To this Adam Adams did not reply. ”

“ It was rather a long walk and the old woman was out of breath when they reached the building near the top of the hill.
"Watch her," said the detective to Tom Ostrello, and he and Raymond entered the cottage. As they did so, they stumbled over a person lying on the floor.
"Margaret!" burst out the young man and caught his sweetheart in his arms. Then he gave a gasp, and staggered with his burden to the bed. "She is dead!"
"Dead!" ejaculated Adam Adams. "You are certain?" He placed his ear to her heart. "No, she still lives."
"But what does this mean? Margaret! Margaret! Speak to me! ”

“ I know Miss Langmore is innocent."
"To merely say a thing does not prove it," came from the coroner. "We want facts, nothing else—and we are bound to have 'em." He began to warm up also. "I'm here to do my duty, regardless of you or anybody else. I ain't going to shield anybody, rich or poor, high or low, known or unknown! Now, you sit down, and let the inquest proceed." And Raymond sat down, but with a great and growing bitterness filling his heart. He looked at Margaret and saw that she was trembling from head to foot. ”

“ Down by the brook, back of the stable, was a tiny wharf, where a boat was tied up, a craft which Margaret Langmore had occasionally taken down to the river for a row.
The mansion now looked dark and lonesome, although many folks passed on the highway and whispered to each other that there was the spot where the gruesome tragedy had been committed. "And to think that the man's own daughter did it," they would generally add. "Beats all how bloodthirsty some folks can get. ”

“ It was no easy matter to get Margaret to swallow, but after a while it was accomplished, and her heart appeared to beat a trifle more steadily. But still she did not rouse up or open her eyes, and Raymond was as depressed as before.
"We can't overcome the effects of the drug," he groaned. "Oh, if only the doctor would come!" ”

“ He looked at Matlock Styles keenly. Could the Englishman really mean what he said? He certainly appeared sincere enough.
"You have made a great mistake, sir," said the detective. "I know nothing more of the murders than I have already related."
"I think differently, my fine fellow."
"What makes you imagine I am guilty?"
"Never mind that now."
"Why, I can prove an alibi."
"Then you'll have to prove it, and a bloody strong one too, before I let you go. I've seen you sneaking around before. That's a wig you are wearing. Bart, bind him, and do it bloomin' tight, too." ”

“ Adam Adams swung the door of the safe open once more. As he surmised, the combination could be set to a new series of numbers with ease. He fixed it to correspond with the numbers of his own office safe, then closed the door, gave the knob a twirl, and hurried from the room by the same opening by which he had entered.
"When I first came up I thought somebody was robbing the safe," said
Raymond Case, when the pair were at a distance from the house.
"What did you see me do?"
"Take out a package of bankbills and put them into your pocket. Oh, I know it must be all right, Mr. Adams. ”

“ This is Mr. Adam Adams. Mr. Adams, this is Miss Margaret Langmore. Now, I guess we are going to show these country bumpkins a thing or two!" he added earnestly.
The detective advanced and shook hands. Margaret Langmore was a trifle disappointed in his appearance and her face clouded for an instant. Raymond was quick to notice it.
"You mustn't judge a man by his appearance. Mr. Adams makes himself look that way on purpose. He's the smartest, swiftest—"
"That will do," interrupted the detective with a brief smile.
"Will you help me?" The girl eyed the detective squarely. "I—I need help so much." ”

“ There was another pause, as the young physician stepped back. The coroner was about to call one of the women set to guard Margaret and the Langmore mansion, when he suddenly turned.
"Miss Langmore, you will please take the stand again," he said, and the girl did so, throwing aside her veil. "Are you in the habit of wearing finger rings and bracelets?"
It was a leading question and several gasped as they heard it. Raymond started to rise up, but then sank back again.
"I do not wear bracelets," answered Margaret. "I have two rings."
"What kind of rings are they?"
"One is a plain gold band. ”

“ Presently Ostrello looked at Adam Adams and started slightly and then bowed.
"Excuse me, but I think I saw you up to the Langmore house," he began.
"Yes, I called on Miss Langmore. I believe you are Mrs. Langmore's son."
"Yes. Come over, won't you?" Ostrello moved towards the window of the car. "I've got to have a smoke to quiet my nerves, I'm so upset. Will you have one?" And he presented a case full of choice Havana cigars.
"It must have upset you—it's enough to upset anybody," answered Adam
Adams, as they lit up. "It's a fearful happening, fearful."
"You are acting for Margaret, I heard." ”

“ An hour later found Adam Adams on a train bound for Bryport. He reached that city in the evening, and from a directory he learned where the secret service man resided. A street car brought him to within two blocks of the dwelling. It was a building of no mean pretentions and on a corner which looked to be valuable. Walking along the side street he saw that two domestics were at work in the kitchen and dining room.
"He certainly lives in style," mused Adam Adams. "Wonder if he manages it on twelve hundred a year?" ”

“ If he comes out you follow him," said Adam Adams.
The detective found the mansion in charge of the policeman and Mrs.
Morse. Both looked at him questioningly as he entered.
"Nothing is to be touched," said the policeman. "Them's orders from headquarters."
"Is anybody here?"
"Mrs. Morse and myself, that's all."
"No visitors at all?"
"No, sir."
"That's queer. Haven't seen anything of Mrs. Langmore's son to-day?"
The policeman shook his head. "You haven't seen him, have you?" he asked of the woman. ”

“ CHAPTER XXI CLOSE TO DEATH For several seconds after being forced into the darkness beyond the iron door Adam Adams stood perfectly still. He heard Matlock Styles go upstairs and was fairly well satisfied that the Englishman had left the old mill.
"That man has something up his sleeve as sure as fate," murmured the detective to himself. "He is playing a game, and a deep one, too." ”

“ Apparently satisfied that he was not observed, the strange man leaned down at the bank of the brook, took something from his pocket and placed it down on the moist dirt. Then he took another object from his pocket and repeated the operation.
"Can they be shoes he has in his hands?" mused the detective. "And if they are, what is he doing with them?"
Hearing the slamming of a door at the mansion, Adam Adams drew still further back among the bushes. A minute later he saw the man make a long leap, clear the brook, and hurry away among the trees and brushwood on the other side. ”