IN THE TOILS.
At the office of the International Machine Company the work of the
C.P.A.'s was drawing to a close. Their report would soon be ready to
submit to Mr. Compton, and as the time approached Bince's nervousness
and irritability increased. Edith noticed that he inquired each day with
growing solicitude as to the reports from the hospital relative to
Jimmy's condition. She knew that Bince disliked Jimmy, and yet the man
seemed strangely anxious for his recovery and return to work.
In accordance with Jimmy's plan, the C.P.A.'s were to give out no
information to any one, even to Mr. Compton, until their investigation
and report were entirely completed. This plan had been approved by Mr.
Compton, although he professed to be at considerable loss to understand
why it was necessary. It was, however, in accordance with Jimmy's plan
to prevent, if possible, any interference with the work of the auditors
until every available fact in the case had been ascertained and
recorded.
In the investigation of the pay-roll Bince had worked diligently with
the accountants. As a matter of fact, he had never left them a moment
while the pay-roll records were in their hands, and had gone to much
pain to explain in detail every question arising therefrom.
Although the investigators seemed to accept his statements at their face
value, the assistant general manager was far from being assured that
their final report would redound to his credit.
On a Thursday they informed him that they had completed their
investigation, and the report would be submitted to Mr. Compton on
Saturday.
When Edith reached the hospital that evening she found Jimmy in high
spirits. He was dressed for the first time, and assured her that he was
quite able to return to work if the doctor would let him, but the nurse
shook her head. "You ought to stay here for another week or ten days,"
she admonished him.
"Nothing doing,"' cried Jimmy. "I'll be out of here Monday at the
latest." But when Edith told him that the C.P.A.'s had finished, and
that their report would be handed in Saturday, Jimmy announced that he
would leave the hospital the following day.
"But you can't do it," said the nurse.
"Why not?" asked Jimmy.
"The doctor won't permit it."
Edith tried to dissuade him, but he insisted that it was absolutely
necessary for him to be at the office when the C.P.A.'s report was made.
"I'll be over there Friday evening or Saturday morning at the latest,"
he said as she bid him good-bye.
And so it was that, despite the pleas of his nurse and the orders of his
physician, Jimmy appeared at the plant Friday afternoon. Bince greeted
him almost effusively, and Mr. Compton seemed glad to see him out again.
That evening Harold Bince met Murray at Feinheimer's, and still later
the Lizard received word that Murray wanted to see him.
"Everything's ready," the boss explained to the Lizard. "The whole
thing's framed for to-morrow night. The watchman was discharged to-day.
Another man is supposed to have been hired to take the job, but of
course he won't show up. You meet me here at seven thirty to-morrow
night, and I'll give you your final instructions and tell you how to get
to the plant." The C.P.A.'s were slow in completing their report. At
noon on Saturday it looked very much to Bince that there would be no
report ready before Monday. He had spent most of the forenoon pacing his
office, and at last, unable longer to stand the strain, he had announced
that he was going out to his country club for a game of golf.
He returned to his down-town club about dinner-time, and at eight
o'clock he called up Elizabeth Compton.
"Come on up," said the girl. "I'm all alone this evening. Father went
back to the office to examine some reports that were just finished up
late this afternoon."
"I'll be over," said Bince, "as soon as I dress." If there was any trace
of surprise or shock in his tones the girl failed to notice it.
At ten o'clock that night a figure moved silently through the dark
shadows of an alleyway in the area of the International Machine
Company's plant on West Superior Street. As he moved along he counted
the basement windows silently, and at the fifth window he halted. Just a
casual glance he cast up and down the alley, and then, kneeling, he
raised the sash and slipped quietly into the darkness of the basement.
At about the same time Jimmy's landlady called him to the telephone,
where a man's voice asked if "this was Mr. Torrance?" Assured that such
was the fact, the voice continued: "I am the new watchman at the plant.
There's something wrong here. I can't get hold of Mr. Compton. I think
you better come down. I'll be in Mr. Compton's office--" The message
ceased as though central had disconnected them.
"Funny," thought Jimmy, "that he should call me up. I wonder what the
trouble can be." But he lost no time in getting his hat and starting for
the works.
Although the Lizard knew that there was no danger of detection, yet from
long habit he moved through the plant of the International Machine
Company with the noiselessness of a disembodied spirit. Occasionally,
and just for the briefest instant, he flashed his lamp ahead of him, but
though he had never been in the place before he found it scarcely
necessary, so minute had been his instructions for reaching the office
from the fifth basement window.
The room he sought was on the second floor, and the Lizard had mounted
the steps from the basement to the first floor when he was brought to a
sudden stop by a noise from the floor above him. The Lizard listened
intently. No, he could not be mistaken. Too often had he heard a similar
sound.
Some one was tiptoeing across the floor above. The Lizard was in the
hallway close beside the stairs when he realized the footsteps were
coming toward the stairway, and a moment later that they were cautiously
descending. The Lizard flattened himself against the wall, and if he
breathed his lungs gave forth no sound.
If one may interpret footsteps--and the Lizard, from the fund of a
great experience, felt that he could--those descending the stairway
from above him might have been described as nervous and repressed; for
at least they gave the Lizard the impression of one who desired to flee
in haste and yet dared not do so, for fear of attracting attention by
the increased noise that greater speed might entail.
At least the Lizard knew that those were the footsteps of no watchman,
but whether it be guardian of the law or fellow criminal the Lizard had
no wish to be discovered. He wondered what had gone wrong with Murray's
plans, and, suddenly imbued with the natural suspicion of the criminal,
it occurred to him that the whole thing might be a frame-up to get him;
and yet why Murray should wish to get him he could not imagine. He ran
over in his mind a list of all those who might feel enmity toward him, but
among them all the Lizard could cast upon none who might have sufficient
against him to warrant such an elaborate scheme of revenge.
The footsteps passed him and continued on toward the foot of the stairs
where was the main entrance which opened upon the street. At the door
the footsteps halted, and as the Lizard's eyes bored through the
darkness in the direction of the other prowler the latter struck a match
upon the panel of the door and lighted a cigarette, revealing his
features momentarily but distinctly to the watcher in the shadow of the
stairway. Then he opened the door and passed out into the night.
The Lizard, listening intently for a few moments to assure himself that
there was no one else above, and that the man who had just departed was
not returning, at last continued his way to the foot of the stairs,
which he ascended to the second floor. Passing through the outer office,
he paused a moment before the door to Compton's private office, and then
silently turning the knob he gently pushed the door open and stepped
into the room.
Beyond the threshold he halted and pressed the button of his flash-lamp.
For just an instant its faint rays illumined the interior of the room,
and then darkness blotted out the scene. But whatever it was that the
little flash-lamp had revealed was evidently in the nature of a
surprise, and perhaps something of a shock, to the Lizard, for he drew
back with a muttered oath, backed quietly out of the room, closed the
door after him, and, moving much more swiftly than he had entered,
retraced his steps to the fifth window on the alley, and was gone from
the scene with whatever job he had contemplated unexecuted.
A half-hour later detective headquarters at the Central Station received
an anonymous tip: "Send some one to the office of the International
Machine Company, on the second floor of West Superior Street."
It was ten thirty when Jimmy reached the plant. He entered the front
door with his own latchkey, pressed the button which lighted the
stairway and the landing above, and, ascending, went straight to Mr.
Compton's office, turned the knob, and opened the door, to find that the
interior was dark.
"Strange," he thought, "that after sending for me the fellow didn't
wait." As these thoughts passed through his mind he fumbled on the wall
for the switch, and, finding it, flooded the office with light.
As he turned again toward the room he voiced a sudden exclamation of
horror, for on the floor beside his desk lay the body of Mason Compton!
As Jimmy stepped quickly toward Compton's body and kneeled beside it a
man tiptoed quietly up the front stairway, while another, having
ascended from the rear, was crossing the outer office with equal
stealth.
Jimmy felt of Compton's face and hands. They were warm. And then he
placed his ear close against the man's breast, in order to see if he
could detect the beating of the heart. He was in this position when he
was startled by a gruff voice behind him.
"Put 'em up!" it admonished curtly, and Jimmy turned to see two men
standing in the doorway with pistols leveled at him.