Back Aa

Officer 666

Close

<h2>CHAPTER XXIX.</h2> <h3>IN WHICH THE HERO IS KEPT ON THE HOP.</h3> Travers Gladwin watched the big handsome mis-presentiment of himself disappear into the hallway with every nerve at full strain. As he heard the door open, then a delighted feminine cry and the unmistakable subtle sound of an embrace, he ground his finger nails into his palms and bit his lips. Every fibre of him burned with jealous hatred of this impostor. If there had been only more of the brute left in the Gladwin strain undoubtedly there would have been a sensational clash between the two men for the benefit of the beautiful young girl who, Gladwin strove to acknowledge, was the helpless pawn of circumstances. But the refinements of blood rob the physical man of his savage resources and impose a serious hamper upon his primordial impulses. Helen came into the room with the thief’s arm about her waist while Gladwin stood dumbly at attention, his features hardened and inscrutable. At sight of his uniform and failing to recognize him in his disguise the girl turned pale and uttered a frightened exclamation. <div></div> “Don’t be alarmed, dear,” the man at her side reassured her, smiling down upon her, “this is only officer––” He looked up with a laughing expression of inquiry. “Murphy, sorr,” responded Gladwin, through tightly compressed lips. “Yes,” the pretender nodded quickly. “Murphy, Officer Murphy, my dear––looks after my house when I’m away. He is one of the city’s best little watchmen and he is going to see that everything is made safe and secure after we have gone.” Helen breathed an exclamation of relief, but the fright in her eyes lingered as the unconscious feeling struck in that the attitude of the policeman seemed more than a trifle strained. She carried a little grip in one hand, which the bogus Gladwin took from her and handed to the real Gladwin, nodding significantly for him to leave the room. Turning to Helen, he said: “But why did you bring the bag, dear? My man told me he found your trunk at the Grand Central Station.” “Yes,” Helen answered, “but auntie insisted that I go to the opera, so I had to pack my travelling dress. I slipped out of the opera during the entre act, and went home to change my gown. I was so frightened and in such a dreadful state of nerves that I couldn’t.” A shudder ran through her and she seemed on the point of breaking down when the man with whom she had chosen to elope drew her to him and said with what had every expression of genuine tenderness: “There, there, dear! Calm yourself. Why, you’re trembling like a leaf. There is nothing to be frightened about now.” She yielded to his embrace and he bent down his head to kiss her on the lips. Whatever he projected in the nature of an enduring osculation was spoiled as Gladwin dropped the bag to the floor with a crash. The man looked up angrily and the girl gave a frightened cry. “What’s the matter with you, officer?” the thief shot at him. “Excuse me, sorr,” said Gladwin, with mock humility, turning away his head to hide his emotions. As the girl shrank from his arms the thief switched his attention from Officer 666 and led her to a chair, resuming his gentle tones. He pressed her to sit down, saying: “I am just packing up some pictures. I shan’t keep you waiting long. Now, that’s good; you’re getting calmer. You’re all right now, aren’t you?” “Ye-es, Travers dear,” she responded with an effort, looking into his face. “I shan’t break down,” she went on, with a nervous laugh. “I’m stronger than I look. I’ve made my mind up to it. The trouble is that my heart won’t behave. It’s beating terribly––just feel it.” <div></div> He was about to place his hand on her heart when Gladwin was seized with a paroxysm of coughing. The thief straightened up and turned scowlingly upon the young man. “Say, what’s the matter with you, McCarthy?” “Murphy, sorr,” Gladwin retorted. “Me throat tickled me.” “Well,” returned the other sharply, “if you would move around as I told you, your throat wouldn’t tickle you. Get something to pack these paintings in. There isn’t anything in this room––go upstairs and get a trunk.” “I don’t know where there is none, sorr,” Gladwin objected. “Well, look around for one––a small empty trunk, and be quick about it.” He spoke with crackling emphasis. Stung to the quick by the overbearing insolence of this command, it required a prodigious effort for the young man to control his voice. He said with difficulty: “I was thinking, sorr––suppose––the––trunk––is––full?” The thief squared his broad shoulders and walked threateningly toward Gladwin. He stopped directly in front of the young man and said through his teeth, slowly and deliberately and without raising his voice: “If the trunks are full––now listen carefully, because I want you to understand this––if the trunks are full, then empty one. Do you get my meaning? Take the fullness out of it, and after you have done that and there is nothing more left in it, then bring it down here. Now do you think you get my idea clearly?” “Yes, sorr,” said Gladwin, dully, feeling that there was no way out of the situation for the moment save to obey. Strive as he might he could not wholly shake off the influence of this splendid big animal’s dominating will power. And if it affected him that way he didn’t wonder at the spell the man had cast upon the impressionable and sentimental Helen. He left the room with a sudden spurt and swiftly mounted the stairs, the chief object of his haste being to prevent an extended interview in his absence and a resumption of tender dialogue. He had scarcely gone when the spurious Gladwin turned again to the girl with his most engaging smile and softest tones: “You see, dear,” with a sweeping gesture that included his work of spoilation, “I am taking your advice––packing only the most valuable ones.” “I am afraid, Travers,” said Helen, rising from her chair and coming toward him with all her impulsive love and confidence restored, “that I am giving you a lot of trouble.” “Trouble!” he cried, with the gushing effusiveness of a matinée idol. “You’re bringing a great joy into my life.” <div></div> He took her hand and caressed it, adding with the true lover’s frown of perplexity, “But are you going to be happy, dear? That’s what you must think of now––before it is too late.” It was a magnificent bluff and carried with deadly aim. The girl stopped him passionately: “We must not stop to talk about that now––there isn’t time. We must hurry, dear, and get away before auntie finds out and comes after me.” “Do you think she’ll come here?” he asked slowly, while his forehead wrinkled. “I am afraid Sadie will tell her!” “Sadie––your cousin? H’m.” He made no effort to conceal that he was thinking rapidly. “Perhaps you’d rather postpone it after all, Travers?” she said quickly, while the color rushed to her cheeks and her lips trembled. “If you only thought it best I’d like to tell auntie what I’m going to do.” “No”; he retorted. “We can’t do that––we’ve gone over all this before. It must be this way, or not at all. Which is it to be?” “I’ve given you my word, you know,” she said under her breath. “That’s my brave little girl!” he cried with a burst of feeling, reaching out his arm to embrace her. Crash! Bang! Biff! Slam! Bam! There burst into the room Officer 666, entangled in the lid and straps of an empty trunk. It was a steamer trunk and not very heavy, but Travers Gladwin was far from adept in baggage smashing. He had wasted so much time in hunting for the trunk that he had sought to make up for the delay by executing what resembled an aëroplane descent. At the final twist of the staircase the trunk had mastered him and charged with him into the room. As he lay sprawled on the floor with a foolish grin on his face, the discomfited lover turned on him with a voice of fury. “Officer, what the deuce is the matter with you?” The intense savagery of his tone made the girl shrink away from him and turn pale. He managed to cover his break so quickly with a forced laugh and an effort to assist Gladwin to his feet that her fear was only momentary. In the last stage of his downward flight Gladwin glimpsed that he had dropped in barely in time to spoil another touching scene. With a grin of sheer delight, he asked: “Where’ll I put the trunk, sorr?” “Put it there.” The self-styled Gladwin pointed to the right of the chest and set to work to gather up his few hundred thousand dollars’ worth of pelf. He was about to place the flat packages in the trunk when he turned to Helen and asked: “Do you see any others that you’d like me to take, dear?” <div></div> “Oh, you know best,” she replied. “Only I should think that you would take some of the miniatures.” “The miniatures?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “Yes,” said the girl. “They are the loveliest I’ve ever seen and they’ll hardly take up any room at all. If we are going to be away such a long time I think it would be safer to take them.” It was palpable to Travers Gladwin that the big chap had received a psychic jolt, for his hand trembled a little as he laid down the canvases on the top of the chest and addressed the girl: “I didn’t know you’d seen the miniatures.” “Oh, yes, when I was here this afternoon.” He took this between the eyes without flinching. His voice was marvellously steady as he said: “I didn’t know you were here this afternoon.” “You didn’t?” she asked in a puzzled tone. “How funny! You’d just gone out when I called, but two of your friends were here and one of them showed me the miniatures, and china, and plate and lots of things. Why, I left a message for you about the opera––didn’t they tell you?” The girl stood with her back to Gladwin and the man she addressed slowly turned his head and glanced over her head with a keen, flashing look of inquiry. Gladwin lifted his chin a little and met the look without change of expression. “Didn’t they tell you, Travers?” the girl repeated. “Yes, yes; they told me,” he said hastily, still maintaining his fixed gaze upon Gladwin. There was barely an instant’s pause before he spoke: “Officer, kindly go up to my room and see if you can find a bag and pack enough things to last a week or two.” “Yes, sorr.” Gladwin flung out of the room. He started noisily up the stairs until he saw that the thief had turned his back to him, whereat he vaulted the banister and dropped lightly upon a divan in a recessed niche that could not be seen from the room he left. The moment Gladwin vanished the thief turned to Helen and asked sharply: “What time did you see my friends here?” “A little after five,” replied the girl, recoiling slightly with a look of dismay, for there was a new raw edge to the sharpness of his tone. “Did you tell them about the elopement?” he said less harshly, but with a scarcely veiled eagerness. “Why, they knew all about it,” Helen hastened to reply, searching his face apprehensively. “Knew about it?” he mused, fairly grinding his brows together under the pressure of his agitated thoughts. “What did you tell them?” he queried steadily, measuring her fresh, young beauty and vowing to himself that whatever struggle impended he was going through with it to the limit of his resources. “That we were to meet here,” she answered with increasing fear. <div></div> “That we were to meet here?” he repeated. “Yes, at half-past ten––oh, was it something I shouldn’t have told them?” she cried, coming toward him. Once more Officer 666 snapped the tension. He had wriggled around the staircase and found the suitcase Bateato had packed and left for him. Hating to play the rôle of an eavesdropper any longer than necessary he made a flying start and burst into the room. <hr class="toprule" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

1 of 2

2 of 2