MEET FLASH!
“Dorothy, have you ever done anything in the way of amateur
theatricals?” Ashton Sanborn stroked the bowl of his pipe reflectively.
“Why—er—yes, a little.” She looked a bit bewildered. “I’ve been in the
Silvermine Sillies for the past two years.”
Sanborn nodded. “How is it you’re out of school on a Thursday?” The
question seemed irrelevant. He was leaning back in his chair now,
surveying the ceiling rather absently, but there was nothing
lackadaisical about his crisp tones.
“Christmas holidays. Why?”
“Because, if you’re willing, I may want you to work for me for a few
days. I suppose I can reach your father by telephone at the New Canaan
bank?”
“No, you can’t—Daddy is down in Florida on a fishing trip. He’s on Mr.
Bolton’s yacht, somewhere off the coast. They won’t be back until
Christmas Eve.”
“That,” said the Secret Service man, “complicates matters. Who, may I
ask, is looking after Miss Dixon while Mr. Dixon is away?”
“I’m looking after my own sweet self, sir.” Dorothy grinned roguishly.
“Then who is to take the responsibility for your actions, young lady?”
“Why, you may—if you want to!”
For a moment or two the detective studied her thoughtfully. There was a
certain assurance about this girl’s manner, a steely quality that came
sometimes into her grey eyes, an indefinable air of strength and quiet
courage—
“Do you think you could impersonate your cousin, Dorothy?”
“Why—of course!” Dorothy showed her surprise. “We look exactly alike.
Didn’t Howard take me for Janet?”
“He did—but from what he has told us about her, your natures are
entirely different. Janet, from all accounts, is a rather meek and
demure young lady. Remember, that in order to convince anyone who knows
her you would have to submerge your own personality in hers. And nobody
would ever describe _you_ as a meek, demure young lady!”
“An untamed wildcat—if you ask me,” chuckled Bill.
“Why, thanks a lot, William!” Dorothy’s hearers were abruptly aware of
the changed quality of her voice as she continued to speak in melting
tones of pained acceptance. “But nobody _did_ ask you, darling, so in
future when your betters are conversing, be good enough to button up
that lip of yours!” She finished her withering tirade in the same quiet
tones and with a positively shrinking demeanor that sent the others into
shouts of laughter.
“Say, you’re Janet to a T!” cried Howard. “Her voice is always like that
if I happen to hurt her feelings.”
“How about her hair, Howard? Is it long or short?”
“Oh, she wears it bobbed like yours.”
“I suppose,” Dorothy said to Mr. Sanborn, “that you want to smuggle me
into the flat and have me change places with her?”
“That’s the idea exactly,” admitted the detective. “And I don’t want you
to make your decision until I explain my plan in detail—or, rather, the
necessity for the risk you will be taking.”
“Shoot—” said Miss Dixon, “but I can tell you right now, risk or no
risk, I’m going through with it. Janet, after all she’s been through and
from what Howard has told us, is bound to flop once she gets to Dr.
Winn’s. Nervous, and probably high strung, the chances are against her
being able to hold up under the strain.”
“I think you are right about that. But although Janet is in serious
danger, she could be rescued and her father guarded without bringing you
into the picture, Dorothy, if it were not for one thing. These men who
hold Janet in their custody are in some way mixed up with Dr. Winn, who
has undertaken to make some very important experiments for the United
States government.”
“I make a bet that he is Number 1 of the gang!” ventured Bill, the
irrepressible.
“Very possibly. That has yet to be discovered. But what I want you young
people to realize is that this is no ordinary gang. Quite evidently we
are up against an international organization. Their treatment of Janet
is concrete evidence of their cold-blooded ruthlessness when they
believe their plans to be in jeopardy. If you take your cousin’s place,
Dorothy, of course we will see that you are well guarded, but even so,
your part in clearing up this mystery will entail a very great element
of risk.”
“I’m willing to take the chance.” Dorothy met his inquiring eyes
steadily. “Naturally, I’m sorry for Janet and I want to help her. The
only thing is, I’ve got to be back at High School by January fourth.”
“I think I can promise you that this job will be cleaned up within a
week.”
“I reckon,” smiled Bill, “that you haven’t told us all you know about
these lads with numbers instead of names.”
“Not quite all.” Sanborn smiled back at him. “But that is neither here
nor there just now. By the way, Dorothy, how are you on shorthand and
typewriting?”
“Oh, not so worse. It’s part of the course I’m taking at New Canaan
High.”
“Good enough. Frankly, young lady, I would not consider using you, had
not the New Canaan Bank robbery, the affair of the Mystery Plane and the
Conway Case proved conclusively that you have a decided flair for this
kind of thing.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Miss Dixon with mock coyness. “Them kind words is
a great comfort to a poor workin’ goil. Do I pack a gat wid me, Mister?”
“You do not. In fact, you will take nothing except what belongs to your
cousin. If I am able to get you into the Jordan flat and they carry you
up to Ridgefield in her place, just being Janet Jordan, who never woke
up when she was sleepwalking last week will be your best protection. Of
course, I’m not deserting you. Either I or some of my men will find
means of keeping in touch with you constantly.”
“And when the villains scrag me, the secret service boys will arrive on
the scene just in time—to identify the deceased! No thank you. If the
gun is out of orders, Flash will have to go. Of course my jiu jitsu may
help at a pinch, but Flash is more potent and ever so much quicker.”
“What are you talking about, Dorothy?” Ashton Sanborn looked puzzled.
“It’s a cinch you can’t drag a dog along if that’s your big idea,”
declared Bill.
“It is not the big idea, old thing.” Dorothy grinned wickedly. “Flash
and I have got very clubby this fall. He’s really quite a dear, you
know. We travel about together a lot.”
“The mystery of this age,” observed Bill, “is how certain females can
talk so much and say so little.”
“Then,” said Dorothy cheerfully, “I’ll let you solve the mystery right
now. Catch!” She tossed him a macaroon from a plate on the table. “Go
over to that bedroom door,” she commanded. “Stand to one side of the
door and throw that thing into the air.”
“But, I say, Dorothy!” interposed Ashton Sanborn. “This is no time for
fooling, we’ve got—”
“This is not fooling, you dear old fuss-budget,” she cut in.
“It’s—well, it’s just something that may save you from worrying so much
about me. Now, Bill, are you ready?”
“Anything to please the ladies,” retorted that young man wearily. He got
up and walked to the far end of the room and took his stand beside the
closed door. “Is Flash a cake hound? Will he jump for the cookie?”
“He sure will—toss it in the air.”
The small cake went spinning toward the ceiling, and at the same instant
Dorothy’s right hand disappeared under the table. With the speed of
legerdemain she brought it into view again and her arm shot out suddenly
like a signpost across the white cloth. There was a streak of silver
light—and the three male members of the quartet stared at the bedroom
door in open-mouthed wonder. Quivering in the very center of its upper
panel was a small knife, and impaled on the knife’s blade was the
macaroon.
“Meet Flash!” said Dorothy.
“Great suffering snakes!” exploded Bill, plucking out the blade, and
examining it. “The thing’s a throwing knife.”
“Six inches of razor-keen, leaf-shaped blade,” said Dorothy, “and three
inches of carved ivory hilt, beautifully balanced—that’s Flash. How do
you like him, fellers?”
“You,” declared Howard, who was still goggle-eyed with surprise, “you
are the most amazing girl I’ve ever met, Dorothy!”
“And you don’t know the half of it,” said Bill with unstinted fervor.
“Think I can take care of myself at a pinch, Uncle Sanborn?” Dorothy was
laughing at the expression of astonishment on the detective’s face.
“You win, young lady.” He chuckled softly. “After this I’ll keep my
worries for Doctor Winn and his friends. Who’d have thought you had
anything like that up your sleeve!”
“Not up my sleeve, old dear. A little leather sheath strapped just above
my left knee is where Flash came from.”
“Regular Jesse James stuff, eh?” remarked Bill as he handed back the
knife.
“Oh, yeah?” Flash disappeared as quickly as he’d come, and Dorothy stood
up. “What’s on the boards, now, boss?” she asked sweetly.
“Howard—” said Ashton Sanborn, “will you let me have the key to that
apartment of yours? Thanks. Bill and I will need it this afternoon, and
even if things go according to Hoyle, we’ll be powerful busy. In the
meantime, I’ve got a job for you and Dorothy.” He took out his
pocketbook and extracting a sheaf of bills, handed them to the girl.
“You and Howard are going to have a busy afternoon, too. See that you’re
back here in time for dinner at seven, and—”
“But what under the sky-blue canopy is all this?” Dorothy was thumbing
the bills, counting them. “Why, I’ve never seen so much money—”
“Use it to buy your cousin a trousseau. Have the things sent to Mrs.
Howard Bright’s apartment at this hotel. And remember, that when she
arrives here, Janet will have nothing but the clothes she is wearing.
You don’t mind doing this, do you?”
“Mind! Why, I’ll love it!” Dorothy turned a dazzling smile on Howard,
who was simply tongue-tied by the detective’s announcement. “Isn’t he
swell, Howard? Isn’t he some guy?”
Ashton Sanborn laughed. “Don’t thank me. Uncle Sam is paying, so you
needn’t bring back any change.”
Dorothy thrust the money into her purse. “Don’t worry, old bean, I
won’t. So long, you two. Come on, Howard, we’re going to have a
beautiful afternoon!” She caught young Bright by the arm and whirled him
across the room to the coat-rack. She jammed a bright green beret over
her right ear and slung her leopard-cat coat onto her shoulders. “All
set for Fifth Avenue!” she called out merrily as she preceded Howard out
of the room.