John T. McIntyre

“ The beautiful hands left the strings and clasped themselves together; Miss Hohenlo turned an incredulous face toward the speaker.
“Gave you a start!” she said. “Oh, Mr. Scanlon, one can’t imagine anything like that.”
“Well,” said Bat, “maybe you wouldn’t think so, seeing I turn the scales at about fourteen stone, and was brought up in the open. But start I did on that occasion.”
“But why?” and the dull eyes of the spinster were full of wonder. “Why?”
“Your nephew,” said the big man, “is a friend of mine. And a fellow never likes to see a friend venturing into a thing which might not be right.” ”

“ Bat Scanlon, one time athlete and gambler, but now a handler of champions, brushed the first short plume of ash from his cigar. He shook his head.
“Wrong!” stated he, confidently. “Altogether wrong. You get behind the scenes too much; you see the insides of things too often. Wonder is as thick as ever it was; and surprise is still on the job. If there’s any falling off, it’s in ourselves. We’ve grown cross-eyed looking at fakes; we haven’t the vision to know a wonder when we see it.” ”

“ He had turned about and was moving away from the river when a rifle sounded; clear against the moonlit sky he made out Kretz upon the wall.
“Hello!” said Scanlon, his hands at his mouth like a megaphone. “That’ll be about all of that.”
The sergeant-major lowered his gun, and stood looking down; and within a few minutes the big man was at the gate and hammering to be let in.
Kretz admitted him, sullen-faced and silent.
“Suppose you always take a look,” spoke Scanlon, after the gate had been closed and fastened, “a good look, mind you, before you cut loose with that gun of yours. ”

“ The long fingers of Ashton-Kirk pattered upon the edge of the table; he met the gaze of the other with steady eye.
“In such cases,” said he, “comparison usually figures very strongly. Some danger threatens a man. But he fears to appeal for help. Why? Because the thing which threatens is as nothing compared with another thing which a call for help might expose.”
Scanlon saw the peaked face of young Campe twitch, but the intent look never left his eyes. ”

“ So lonely were these, and so pale and cold that they might well have marked the retreat of some necromancer, in which he pored over his dark books of magic.
“It’s a peculiar thing,” said Ashton-Kirk, his eyes upon the far-off lights, “what various forms fear takes. Here is a man who, apparently, is in constant terror of some one, or something, and yet we find him lodged stubbornly in a place where a secret blow might be levelled at him with the greatest ease.”
“That struck me more than once,” spoke Mr. Scanlon. ”

“ But Ashton-Kirk shook his head.
“No,” said he. “Just at this time I think Campe is perfectly safe from Alva and his crowd. When you first came to me with the story I felt that the matter was one of life and death—that it would not wait an hour. But after studying things hereabouts for a little I saw that in this I had been mistaken. The criminals will not be in a hurry to murder Campe. He is the last of his family, and they want what he knows, or can give, more than they want his life.” ”

“ The searching column of light still clung to the running man; again and again came the light shocks of the distant rifle.
“The woman has faded out of the lime-light,” observed Scanlon.
“And the man is trying his best to duplicate the feat. Look—there he goes!”
With a wild side leap, the fugitive vanished into a shallow ravine, out of range of both the ray and the rifle. At this the searchlight was snapped off and darkness once more settled over the hills.
“Your German sergeant-major is a poor shot,” commented Ashton-Kirk. “He had his man in full view and missed him repeatedly.” ”

“ The liver, now; take that! There’s a piece of machinery for you. There’s an organ which means something.”
The cramped man seemed amused. He cackled and hammered with his cane upon the floor.
“The liver,” said he; “why, I’ve known men to go on forty years who had no livers at all. Because yours has refused to secrete and has painted you up with jaundice, you put it in front, and belittle more important things. With good blood, sir, a man need have no liver.”
“Without a liver,” maintained the saffron-hued man, “he could not have good blood.”
Mr. Scanlon nodded to the landlord. ”

“ Scanlon, “never admit, even to yourself, that the opposition is on top of you. It has a bad effect. Even the best of us has no real liking for a bruising battle, if we get the bruising; and we’re only looking for an excuse to side step. And thoughts like those provide the excuse.”
At the cellar door Campe stopped.
“We’ll not venture into the vaults,” said he, in a tired way. His face had the sagged look which hopelessness brings, and his eyes were dull and weary. “It may not be safe.” ”

“ Then to Scanlon: “Miss Knowles, you say, was interested to know if Shaw had taken any of the papers at which he was looking?”
“Yes,” replied Bat.
“I, also, am a trifle curious as to that.” The soulless blue glasses were fixed upon the big man steadily. “What did Campe have to say in the matter?”
“Nothing,” replied Bat. “At least nothing that I heard.”
“It’s curious,” said Ashton-Kirk, “how a man will hold to silence regarding some things. In the midst of happenings which sap his courage and weaken his will in everything else, this young man keeps his mouth shut as to the cause of it.” ”

“ Swiftly the big man left the room and lightly he ran down the stairs.
“The gate!” said he to Kretz, who stood in the courtyard. “Open it!”
The man stood looking at him, a curious expression upon his face; for a moment it seemed to Scanlon that he was about to refuse.
“Quick!” said Scanlon. All the suspicions that he’d had of the German since coming to Schwartzberg were brought to a head in an instant. His strong jaw grew rigid and his tone was almost menacing.
The sergeant-major threw the bolts and turned the keys sullenly. As the gate opened, Scanlon passed out. ”

“ At the foot of the stairs he paused; from above came the voice of Campe, and in it there was lightness and ease.
“The billiard ball is also merrily clicking,” said Mr. Scanlon. “Evidently he is still engaged with the golden-haired Helen, and she is making him forget his troubles.” He began quietly to ascend the stairs. “But it might pay him to keep an eye open; for who knows when her ambition might break out afresh, and she might take another swing at him with the sword.”
As his head appeared above the landing, he came in sight of the billiard room door. ”

“ TELLS SOMETHING OF THE MAN IN THE ROLLING CHAIR “CAMPE!” cried Bat Scanlon, his eyes upon the fleeing man, and his hand going, with the instinctive movement of an old gun man, to his hip. “And giving his little performance outside once more.”
But the keen eyes of the crime specialist had picked up details which the other had missed. He shook his head.
“No,” said he. “Campe is a young man, you say. This is one past middle life. And also he seems sadly out of condition, and does not run at all like a man who once took middle distance honours.” ”

“ Bat nodded.
“I never been told, but I’ve kind of guessed my way through it.”
“They are afraid to tell,” said Mrs. Kretz. “They fear those outside there; and they also fear the police.”
“Huh!” said Mr. Scanlon.
There was a long period of silence, for he felt that it were best to let her go her own way.
“For the people outside they watch,” said Mrs. Kretz, at length. “Always outside. But,” and the strong hands knotted together suddenly and her voice sank to a whisper, “who watches inside?”
“Inside?” said Bat quietly. “Do we need a watch inside? ”

“ What captive damsels has it freed? What number of the oppressed and helpless has its hiss and its swing released from tyranny? What stout squires have ridden behind its owner? What brawny lanz-knechts have cheered to see it flash, and have pressed after it into the heat of the fight?
“And now,” continued the crime specialist, “to what base uses has it come. From being the weapon of a hero, it becomes the means of one criminal communicating with another.”
“What!” exclaimed Scanlon.
[233] “Look!”
Ashton-Kirk held the sword, hilt up, and with the flat of it toward them. ”

“ The drone of the crowds in the street, the roll of wheels, the cries of drivers to their horses and to each other lifted to them in a confused movement of sound.
“Murder,” said Ashton-Kirk, “is seldom undertaken without cause.” He resumed his pacing, his hands deep in his trousers pockets. “Even the lowest type of thug, waylaying his victim in a lonely place, has the desire for money as his motive. The drunken loafer of the slums beats his wife to death because she refuses him food which he has not earned, or the price of more liquor which dulls his mind to the barest requirements of life. ”

“ He went to a window and looked out into the courtyard where the warm sun flooded the stones. “It’s a beautiful day,” said he. Then: “You have no car here, Mr. Campe?”
“No, we have no use for one, as we seldom go any distance.”
“A run will be a novelty. Take my car. Also my driver, and both Miss Knowles and your aunt.”
Campe looked at him questioningly.
“I went over the house some days ago,” said Ashton-Kirk, calmly, meeting the look, “and I should like to go over it again—in my own way.”
There was a little space of silence; once Scanlon thought the young man was about to refuse. ”

“ In spite of all I can say you’ll keep indoors. Suppose it is dark? The darkness can’t hurt you. Suppose it is damp? You can protect yourself against that. Air is what you want—fresh air—billions of gallons of it.”
The man in the chair was wasted and pale; his almost fleshless hands lay upon the chair arms; his limbs seemed shrunken to the bone.
Bat Scanlon looked at Ashton-Kirk and nodded.
“Whatever it is that’s got him has got him for good,” spoke he, in a low tone. “I never saw any man’s body so close to death without being dead.” ”

“ Here Miss Knowles interrupted him, eagerly.
“I think I see what you mean,” she said. “These unusual strings upon the harp, this great strengthening of the frame, means that it is keyed to this inaudible pitch. That some one outside has an instrument of some sort keyed in unison; and when the harp string is touched, the other vibrated in sympathy.”
“And that these vibrations, made in long or short waves, or in groups, much, perhaps, as the telegraph code is made, formed a ready means of communication.”
Mr. Scanlon seemed appalled. ”

“ All it needs is a glint of moon, a fleecy cloud, and a happy pair of lovers.”
It was a serene, quiet night; the wind from the northwest was but the merest puff; the shadowy hills lay long and looming on every side; the stars were few and seemed very far away.
“It’s on these still nights, though,” ruminated Bat, “that things that make a noise usually have their beginnings. ”

“ I suppose that’s why you keep so much to the roads?”
“Yes,” replied the invalid.
“Outdoors,” said Scanlon, “is a fine thing. I guess that’s why there is so much of it. It’s full of benefits, night and day. Moonlight nights,” sagely, “are especially good. Then you not only get the air, but you get a view of things, which helps the mind. Last night was as bright as day, and Schwartzberg looks well with the moon on it.” ”

“ So I’ve watched the thing move along, and all the time it got tighter and tighter, and sharper and sharper; and now, to-night, I feel that I can’t draw another full breath until I tell you what I think, and what you ought to do.”
“Well?” said Campe.
“In a civilized community,” said Scanlon, “the first thing a man does, when pestered as you’re being, is to call in the police. That you’ve kept so close, both with me and the police, shows that you’ve got a secret on your hands—something that you’re not anxious to spread around.” ”

“ But the voice of Ashton-Kirk broke in on him swiftly, but with a smoothness that covered its haste.
“Our friend Scanlon,” said he, smilingly, “is something of an enthusiast. He has too much confidence in my little array of historical incident. But,” and his singular eyes looked steadily into those of Campe, “if I can be of any assistance to you in the memoirs which you mean to prepare, you may command me. I shall be only too glad.” ”

“ Then I’d know I was six years old and reading a story-book. But being a man and grown to some size, I’m up in the air.”
He stepped out from the shadow of the tree, and throwing his arms wide, yawned luxuriously. Then he realized that several men stood beside him.
“Hello!” said Bat, and brought the yawn to an abrupt termination. “How are you?”
One was the drawn-looking man whom he and Ashton-Kirk had seen at the inn; the other was the brisk little physician whom they had seen upon the same occasion.
The drawn-looking man stood with stooped shoulders and regarded Bat with wondering eyes. ”

“ Indeed, I am never quite at ease with you.”
“That maiden-lady’s pretty able,” spoke Scanlon to Ashton-Kirk, a few moments later in the hall; “and in other things besides billiards. She must be on that something’s happening, that you first put Campe on guard over her and now the girl, and yet she goes on as if nothing was to be feared.”
“Calmness in the face of danger usually comes from a lack of imagination,” said Ashton-Kirk. ”

“ Why not a letter, and a cipher inside?”
“The letter might, in some way, be opened.”
“But it couldn’t be read.”
“Perhaps not; nevertheless a cipher writing would attract notice, and in the face of such happenings as Schwartzberg has been experiencing, suspicion would be sure to follow.”
“That’s right,” said Bat. Then with a nod at the strings: “Going to read them all?”
“No,” said Ashton-Kirk. “It is hardly worth while.” He threw the heavy sword upon a table and crossed to the harp once more. “They must be very brief, and little could be got from them at best. ”

“ The tone of the man in the chair was quieter than usual; his manner, too seemed mild. But the expression of his full-lipped mouth was one of infinite savagery; his eyes shone like those of a caged beast.
“Doctor sent you out here, I suppose,” said Scanlon, as they went on toward the inn.
The invalid gestured with one wasted hand.
“We who have no health,” said he, “are [133] for ever under a doctor’s directions. We can never follow our own desires.”
Bat regarded the speaker attentively.
“Any one,” was his thought, “who could make you do what you didn’t want to do would be a good one.” ”

“ The rays of the torch danced along the floor, the ceiling, the walls and into corners. Satisfied that there were no prowlers in the vaults, the light ceased its erratic flashing; it now became intent, and fixed itself upon some small spaces for quite long periods of time.
“Again the floor seems to attract him,” thought the big man. “Footprints and such.”
But the crime specialist seemed annoyed.
“There has been a great deal of tramping up and down by all of us,” said he. ”