DECOYED
The excitement of being once more in a big city rendered Alora Jones
wakeful on that eventful Tuesday morning following her arrival in
Chicago. At daybreak she rose and peered trough the window into a gray
and unimpressive side street; then, disinclined to return to bed, she
slowly began dressing.
Presently a sharp knock sounded upon her door. Somewhat surprised, she
opened it far enough to see a middle-aged woman attired in nurse's
uniform standing in the dim hallway.
"Miss Jones? Miss Alora Jones?" questioned the woman in a soft voice.
"Yes; what is it?"
"I've a message for you. May I come in?"
Alora, fearful that Mary Louise or the Colonel might have been taken
suddenly ill, threw wide the door and allowed the woman to enter. As
the nurse closed the door behind her Alora switched on the electric
light and then, facing her visitor, for the first time recognized her
and gave a little cry of surprise.
"Janet!"
"Yes; I am Janet Orme, your mother's nurse."
"But I thought you abandoned nursing after you made my father give you
all that money," an accent of scorn in her tone.
"I did, for a time," was the quiet answer. "'All that money' was not a
great sum; it was not as much as your father owed me, so I soon took up
my old profession again."
The woman's voice and attitude were meek and deprecating, yet Alora's
face expressed distrust. She remembered Janet's jaunty insolence at her
father's studio and how she had dressed, extravagantly and attended
theatre parties and fashionable restaurants, scattering recklessly the
money she had exacted from Jason Jones. Janet, with an upward sweep of
her half veiled eyes, read the girl's face clearly, but she continued
in the same subdued tones:
"However, it is not of myself I came here to speak, but on behalf of
your mother's old friend, Doctor Anstruther."
"Oh; did he send you here?"
"Yes. I am his nurse, just now. He has always used me on his important
cases, and now I am attending the most important case of all--his own."
"Is Dr. Anstruther ill, then?" asked Alora.
"He is dying. His health broke weeks ago, as you may have heard, and
gradually he has grown worse. This morning he is sinking rapidly; we
have no hope that he will last through the day."
"Oh, I'm sorry for that!" exclaimed Alora, who remembered the kindly
old doctor with real affection. He had been not only her mother's
physician but her valued friend.
"He learned, quite by accident, of your arrival here last evening,"
Janet went on, "and so he begged me to see you and implore you to come
to his bedside. I advised him not to disturb you until morning, but the
poor man is very restless and so I came here at this unusual hour. It
seems he is anxious to tell you some secret which your dead mother
confided to his keeping and, realizing his hours are numbered, he urges
you to lose no time in going to him. That is the message entrusted to
me."
There was no emotion in her utterance; the story was told calmly, as by
one fulfilling a mission but indifferent as to its success. Alora did
not hesitate.
"How far is it?" she quickly asked.
"A fifteen minute ride."
The girl glanced at her watch. It was not quite six o'clock. Mary
Louise and the Colonel would not appear for breakfast for a good two
hours yet and after breakfast they were all to go to the yacht. The
hour was opportune, affording her time to visit poor Doctor Anstruther
and return before her friends were up. Had Alora paused to give Janet's
story more consideration she might have seen the inconsistencies in the
nurse's statements, but her only thoughts were to learn her mother's
secret and to show her sincere consideration for her kindly old friend.
Hastily completing her attire she added her hat and jacket and then
said:
"I am ready, Janet."
"I hope we shall find him still alive," remarked the nurse, a cleverly
assumed anxiety in her tone, as she took the key from inside the door
and fitted it to the outer side of the lock.
Alora passed out, scarcely aware that Janet had pretended to lock the
door. Halfway down the hall the woman handed her the key.
"Come this way, please," she said; "it is nearer to the carriage which
is waiting for us."
At the rear of the building they descended the stairs and passed
through an anteroom fitted with lockers for the use of the employees of
the hotel. No one happened to be in the anteroom at that moment and
they gained the alley without encountering a single person. Janet
quickly led the girl through the alley and soon they came to a closed
automobile which evidently awaited them. Janet opened the door for
Alora and followed the girl inside the car, which started at once and
sped along the quiet streets.
"You will find Doctor Anstruther very feeble," said the nurse, "for he
has suffered greatly. But I am sure it will give him pleasure to see
you again. I hope he will recognize you. I scarcely recognized you,
myself, you have changed so much since last we saw you at the Voltaire.
Your resemblance to your mother is quite marked, however."
And so, during the ride, she kept up a flow of desultory conversation,
intended to distract Alora's attention from the section of the city
through which they were passing. She spoke of Dr. Anstruther, mostly,
and answered such questions as Alora put to her in a calm, unemotional
manner well calculated to allay suspicion. The woman kept her eyes
veiled by her lashes, as of yore, but her face seemed to have aged and
grown harder in its lines. There was no hint now of her former gay life
in New York; she had resumed the humble tones and manners peculiar to
her profession, such as Alora remembered were characteristic of her at
the time she nursed her mother.
"This is the place," said Janet, as the cab came to a stop. "Let us
move softly, as noise disturbs my patient."
Alora had paid no attention to the direction they had driven but on
leaving the car she found herself facing a three-storied brick flat
building of not very prepossessing appearance. Then were several vacant
lots on either side of this building, giving it a lonely appearance,
and in the lower windows were pasted placards: "To Let."
"Oh; does Doctor Anstruther live _here?"_ asked Alora, somewhat
astonished.
Without seeming to have heard the question Janet mounted the steps and
opened the front door with a latch-key. Alora followed her inside and
up two dingy flights to the third floor. Once she started to protest,
for the deadly silence of the place impressed her with a vague
foreboding that something was amiss, but Janet silenced her with a
warning finger on her lips and on reaching the upper landing herself
avoided making a noise as she cautiously unlocked the door. She stood
listening a moment and then entered and nodded to the girl to follow.
They were in a short, dark passage which separated the landing from the
rooms of the flat. Janet closed the outer door, startling her companion
with the sharp "click" it made, and quickly opened another door which
led into a shabby living room at the front of the building. Standing
just within this room, Alora glanced around with the first real
sensation of suspicion she had yet experienced. Janet raised her lids
for a sweeping view of the girl's face and then with a light laugh
began to remove her own cloak and cap, which she hung in a closet.
"Come, child, make yourself at home," she said in a mocking, triumphant
voice, as she seated herself in a chair facing the bewildered girl. "I
may as well inform you that this is to be your home for some time to
come--until Jason Jones decides to rescue you. You won't object, I
hope? Don't get nervous and you'll find your quarters very comfortable,
if retired."
Alora, understanding now, first shuddered, then grew tense and cast a
hurried glance at the hall door behind her.
"Have you lied to me, Janet?" she demanded.
"Yes."
"And this is a trap? Doctor Anstruther is not sick? He did not send for
me? He is not here?"
"You have guessed correctly, Alora."
The girl wheeled and in a quick run reached the door to the landing. It
was fast locked.
"Help!" she cried, and stopped to listen; "help! help!"
"Come in and take off your things," called Janet, undisturbed by the
outcry. "This building hasn't a soul in it but ourselves, and you may
yell for help until you are hoarse without being heard. But don't be
frightened. I'm not going to hurt you. In fact, I'd like to make your
confinement as cheerful as possible. Can't you understand the truth--
that I am simply holding your person in order to force Jason Jones to
pay the money he owes me?"