Wallion

“ On the day fixed for the arrival of the train at Seattle a telegram was put into Wallion's hands; it ran: "McTuft, will meet the train at Seattle. He is clever and discreet." He rubbed his hands, for he had been anxiously expecting some such communication, and at once despatched a long, detailed wire to McTuft, whom he had never seen, but who was waiting for him.
With a creaking of brakes the train ran into the station of Seattle. Wallion and Tom stepped out on to the platform with as much elation as one goes to the theater with on an interesting "first night." ”

“ My name is Wallion. I have come from Sweden and bring a message from Christian Dreyel."
William Robertson looked steadily at him, not with fear, but with an almost childlike curiosity.
"You are welcome, Mr. Wallion," he answered in a voice the strength of which had been sapped long ago, "don't be afraid that I shall make a noise. My daughter has told me all about you and your friend." In a low and hopeless tone he added, "But you have come too late."
"Too late? ... Not a bit of it.... It is never too late for anything," said Wallion soothingly, sitting down on the edge of the bed. ”

“ Wallion smiled at Aspeland's display of temper. He knew that clever, conscientious official of old and could make a shrewd guess at what had put him out. It would have been an immense gratification to the old veteran to have laid hands on a reckless criminal, but to run down a poor girl who might have been driven to commit the crime, and was now probably hiding like some hunted animal, was not at all to his taste. Wallion cast an interrogative glance at Tom and said:
"Isn't it rather a waste of time to wait here any longer?" ”

“ A month later Maurice Wallion was sitting in a chair facing the Chief of the Secret Service Division of New York in his private office. They were smoking the cigars the Chief had once mentioned on the telephone, and he was listening with intense interest to Wallion's graphic story.
"Well, and what do you think of McTuft?" he said genially when the story was finished.
"A fine, intelligent fellow, but as obstinate as a mule," replied Wallion, laughing. "I strongly recommend him for promotion." ”

“ He was William Robertson. He lay motionless on his back, his hands clasped under his head. Wallion looked long and pityingly at him through the thick glass. There was nothing in William Robertson's expression to indicate madness; his face wore a look of apathy and calm resignation. The poor man, a prisoner rather than a patient, the object of their search—would he be able to answer the questions put to him? Wallion looked towards the door. It was locked, no doubt. How dark and dismal the house must be! ... Why was Elaine not with her father? ”

“ And before Tom could expostulate Wallion had climbed on to the roof of the loggia, and disappeared from sight. For a few minutes he lay at full length on the zinc roof and listened intently; hearing nothing he stealthily crept up to the window and looked in.
What he saw was nothing less than a whitewashed cell with a single lamp suspended from the ceiling; the furniture consisted of a strong wooden stool, a wooden table, and a wooden bedstead securely fixed to the wall. A man lay on the bed. Wallion recognized him at once, thanks to the photograph in Elaine's locket ”

“ The doctor's face turned in their direction, and he gave his interlocutor a curt answer; for, if he had noticed their presence he certainly did not show it. Tom fidgetted with impatience.
"Don't worry," said Wallion, "we shall naturally get into conversation with them, and don't keep staring their way; there are plenty of other people to look at."
Tom hardly heard him. Wallion continued talking and presently Tom became interested.
"Look at that little man at the small table, on the left there in the corner—the one that looks like an Assyrian,—how does he strike you?" ”

“ He had sent an attendant with his visiting card to inquire after Elaine's health, and was waiting impatiently for an answer. Wallion smoked in silence, casting an occasional glance at his friend.
"Alaska," he suddenly said as though following up a train of thought. "Why shouldn't 'King Solomon' have been the name of a mine?"
"Why not, indeed?" remarked Tom starting up. "But, if so, why did the Dreyels or Robertson not go back there?" he said, hesitatingly. "A mine can't disappear entirely from the face of the earth." ”

“ In spite of his corpulence the man moved with well-trained ease and self-possession; his face was ruddy, and he was bald with the exception of a little gray fringe at the back of his head. His features were full and coarse—a face like that of Nero up-to-date, made in America.
Wallion was not disappointed, he had pictured Elaine's employer something like this. ”

“ Seeing Tom about to follow she shook her head. "I don't want a procession," she said crossly, and slammed the door.
Wallion went into the bedroom where he found the doctor standing by the window and writing a prescription. Without turning round the latter said: "Mr. Wallion, I shall keep a quiet tongue about what I have seen, but one thing I feel bound to tell you. The girl is a physical wreck. The wound is nothing. Make her take this now, Mrs. Toby, and again to-night, and by to-morrow the fever will be gone. What she wants is good nursing, and above all no excitement ... ”

“ Doctor Corman's villa and private asylum lay just outside and to the north of the town. At ten P.M. Wallion and his friends got out of a taxi which drew up a hundred yards from the heavy iron gates of the villa and, as they anticipated a long, tedious wait, they sent the chauffeur home. Their object was to find out who was there and to interfere in case of need only.
"Remember that William Robertson is there," was Wallion's cautious remark; "we must be careful not to bring things to a premature crisis." ”

“ Wallion's manner and speech had so far been those of a calm, critical observer; now, he was roused, and in an authoritative voice, he said, "Aspeland, it was not a girl who dealt that blow. Dismiss all thought of her from your mind for the present; you don't believe me, but I say it again, some man has escaped through that window on to the roof. I maintain that it was he who murdered Dreyel. ”

“ Wallion was startled, for he thought he saw the Doctor and the Greek exchanging a significant though scarcely perceptible nod. The two motors drew out of the station yard; a third followed close upon the one in which Ferail sat. McTuft had begun his task.
Wallion waited a little and looked after them until they disappeared. Was it a fact that Ferail had given a sign to Doctor Corman? He bit his lip.
"Let us drive to the hotel," he said. "We must hold ourselves in readiness. Things may move more quickly than I thought," he said to himself.
"What things?" said Tom, taken aback. ”

“ Out of the darkness came McTuft's reply: "Thanks to you for information given last night; the 'Albatross' will be up in half-an-hour." There the odd conversation ended. Wallion got on to his feet and laughingly remarked to Tom:
"I begin to appreciate McTuft's tenacity. He has no intention of missing the last act of the tragedy. I fancy I see him now on the 'Albatross.'"
He put his head out of the window for a moment. The work on the barge below was being carried on undisturbed; the pumps moaned and the windlass creaked at regular intervals.
"Are the crew to be trusted?" asked Wallion. ”

“ Dixon had picked up the coat he had forgotten.
"Corman is no fool," remarked Wallion. "I was just going to say I wonder how far McTuft has got. When he gave up the black car, he very likely went back to the 'Golden Snake,' where he would be told that the 'Ariadne' had put out to sea. A patrol-boat would have been put at his disposal yesterday morning at latest, and a nice race it will be, indeed. I should rather like to give him a few choice bits of information...."
"Information as to what?" asked Tom.
"That there are always means of evasion," said Wallion suavely. ”

“ Wallion reflected for a while. He gave Tom a meaning look, for here undoubtedly was a step towards the solution of the problem. In any case the girl must go, for this aggressive and amazing doctor was certainly in the right.
"So you affirm that her father is out of his mind?" he asked; "will you not give us a little more information?"
"Do you know what 'Phantom-Mania' is?" answered the doctor. "Delusions about mysteries which are non-existent ... a fear of pursuers who are not there ... a love for sending messages and gifts which mean nothing. ”

“ Toby, as she lifted the girl from the couch and carried her into the bedroom, shutting the door after her.
Wallion had settled himself comfortably in the study, and with an amused smile he said to Tom: "Mind you don't get in Mrs. Toby's way, she was born to rule."
They had a good smoke, and could hear at intervals sounds of Mrs. Toby's industry and energy.
"There's one thing that perplexes me," presently said Wallion, "to judge from appearances the girl must have come up from Gothenburg by the morning train; but people don't generally travel without luggage or with empty hands." ”

“ The Superintendent was reluctantly giving up his hopeless task and said somewhat bitterly:
"Toroni is merely a name. We have done our utmost, but we can't put the bracelets on a shadow, and the search is at an end unless something new turns up."
Wallion and Aspeland left the studio together, and the latter having locked up and given the keys to the porter, wended his way home.
"A symbolical proceeding," remarked Wallion to Tom a little later.
"Victor Dreyel has solved the great riddle and has gone 'home'; Aspeland found no clue, and he has gone 'home' ... it is our turn now, No. 13 Toroni." ”

“ Toby," swiftly interrupted Wallion, as he reached out his hand for the telephone receiver.
"And who the deuce is Mrs. Toby?"
"Mrs. Toby happens to be my housekeeper, she is a regular good old soul and can adapt herself ... turn her hand to anything."
Tom heard him call for his own number, and after a while, the response came: "Hallo! It is Wallion ... No ... Want your help immediately. Take a taxi to 30, John Street, and come up to the fourth floor, the name on the door is Thomas Murner.... Yes ... now—at once ... No, some one has been taken ill ... Yes ... Thanks ... Good-bye." ”

“ That was why Robertson sent Nos. 6 and 12 to the Dreyel cousins for safety, and why Ferail began his murderous work. Wallion, you have solved the mystery of King Solomon."
Wallion shook his head.
"No," he said. "I fancy I am pretty near it, though. Who is No. 13 Toroni? Where does he hail from? As I have represented things there are still various discrepancies. Can a mine disappear so entirely in the space of sixteen years? Could those fellows that drove away in Dixon's car have set to work in peace and quiet to exploit a stolen gold-mine? ”

“ All at once McTuft remarked:
"One would think they were making for the Canadian frontier."
"They won't get there," said Wallion, "it's much too far."
"Well, it is a good bit off, as you say," assented McTuft drily, "and I guess Johnstone has given the alarm by now." ”

“ A lamp hung from the ceiling at the farther end, and he perceived the balustrade of a staircase, and several doors—all shut. He walked along a red carpet to the end of the corridor, and there found that one of the doors, which seemed to be more massive than the rest, was padlocked, but the key was in the lock. Wallion's bump of topography told him that this must be the door of the cell he had seen through the window. Without another moment's hesitation he turned the key and went in. The man on the bed slowly raised himself, but Wallion quickly closed the door and laid a finger on his lips. ”

“ No, thirteen Toroni ... what a long way off you are ... you don't hear me."
It was tragic and pitiful to see the big, strong man exert the last of his remaining strength in the effort to tell everything, for though the delirium of fever gripped him inch by inch, his lips continued to move and Wallion bent over him to catch his words, low as the beating of his pulse.
"The numbers ... the numbers ... it is from Robertson ... you must help ... many will be grateful to you ... if you can find King Solomon, the numbers ... take care ... I am falling ... take care, Toroni." ”

“ There are so many ways. The arresting of that Toroni you speak of would be a ticklish undertaking. Meanwhile the secret of the wooden dolls might be hopelessly lost, to you and your friends."
"You are a clever fellow," said Wallion. "That's why I want to come to an understanding or at least to make a bargain with you. I can arrest you now—and it entirely depends upon yourself whether I shall do so or not, for you have a shocking disregard for human life, Toroni, and you have already made an attempt to silence Elaine Robertson for good and all. ”

“ I propose that you will call your men to the chart-room and tell them to be quiet; it is not necessary for them to interfere. Dixon and his two associates are armed, but we shall get the better of them before they have finished their business down there."
All except Moreland left the cabin.
"Tom," said Wallion in a low voice, "in about ten minutes there will be a nice scuffle; you keep an eye on the barge whilst I help the captain to prepare the crew, and come up to the chart-room if any of our three friends make as though they meant to return to the yacht." ”

“ Toby had left the room Wallion said: "Did you know that there were two men named Dreyel?"
Tom shook his head.
"I never heard Christian Dreyel mentioned, maybe he is a brother. I don't know."
The young man's voice sounded listless and tired; the existing complication seemed too much for him, his brain was in a whirl; he only longed to get away from it all and go to sleep. With a prolonged yawn, thrusting his hands into his pockets, he said:
"Perhaps we had better send a telegram to the other Dreyel; he is, naturally, the person most nearly concerned.... Hallo! what's this?" ”