A STRANGE DISCOVERY
“Who’s that?” thought Larry instantly. “If it’s Witherby he’ll take the
alarm, and go at once. But no, it can’t be that chap. He’s too far off.
And if it’s any of the other boarders he won’t come in--that is, unless
he’s a friend of Witherby’s, who may walk in unawares. If he sees
this----”
Larry looked down at the thousand-dollar bill he held, and then he
glanced at the door. With noiseless steps he crossed the room, and was
about to turn the key in the lock, a precaution he felt he should have
taken before, when there came a tap on the portal.
“It’s a stranger, or some of the other boarders,” thought Larry. “Mrs.
Boland would walk right in. What shall I do?”
As he stood there irresolutely, holding the incriminating bit of
evidence between his fingers, Larry heard a voice in an unmistakable
foreign accent ask:
“Are yez in there, Mr. Witherby?”
“A woman!” thought Larry. “One of the maids, evidently.”
“Becaze av yez are in there, Mr. Witherby, th’ missus sint me some time
ago t’ mek th’ room up, an’ I clane forgot it. So I’ll be after doin’
it now, av yez ain’t in it. Be yez there, Mr. Witherby?”
What answer should Larry make? The girl, unsuspecting though she might
be, would be likely to know Witherby’s voice, and raise an alarm if she
heard a strange one. Nor was Larry confident of his ability to make his
tones sound like those of the absent boarder. He was puzzled as to what
to do. If only Mrs. Boland had remained on guard, she could have sent
the servant away. But the landlady had probably gone downstairs.
“Are yez there, Mr. Witherby?” came the voice again. “Becaze I must
do that room or th’ missus’ll be displazed, an’ me only after gittin’
th’ job here t’day. ‘Clane Mr. Witherby’s room,’ sez th’ missus t’ me
this marnin, an’ I clane forgot it until now. But av yez are out, Mr.
Witherby, I’ll do it now.”
Larry had an inspiration.
“A new servant!” he reflected. “She probably has never seen Witherby,
and doesn’t know his voice. I’m safe.”
So he made answer.
“I’m in here now, Bridget, and you can’t clean the room.”
“Sure, how did you know my name was Bridget, which it ain’t, bein’
Katie. But, av it’s all th’ same t’ yez, ye’ll have t’ step out while
I do th’ room. Come now, Mr. Witherby, come out like a gintleman, an’
let me in.”
“No, Katie, I can’t,” and Larry smiled at the strange order.
“Yez’ll have t’! Didn’t th’ missus tell me t’ clane th’ room? Come out
now, like a gintleman, or I’ll lose me place.”
“No, Katie,” said Larry. “Do some other room, and I’ll soon be out.
I’ll explain to Mrs. Boland.”
“Will yez? Thin it’ll be all right, glory be!” and the servant passed
on down the hall, much to Larry’s relief.
“That was a close shave,” he reflected. “I must get through here, or I
won’t be so lucky next time. To think that I found the thousand-dollar
bill--and the stolen million was in bills of this denomination! Oh, if
they only had the numbers of some of them!”
Larry made a note of the bill he held in his hand, and then, slipping
it back between the pages of the theatrical book, he placed the latter
where he had found it. He made a cursory search through a drawer he had
overlooked, not expecting to find anything, but what was his surprise
to find in it a false, sandy moustache! A wave of memory swept over him.
“Great Scott!” he whispered. “Now I understand! Witherby has several
disguises. It was he who was in this room, trying on the black beard
the day I discovered the bricks in the new house. He was the man we
thought was the sneak-thief! He walked out of his own room, with this
false moustache on, and neither Mrs. Boland nor I recognized him. He
fooled us both. And we thought him a sneak-thief!”
Larry could not but help admiring the nerve of the suspected bank clerk.
“I wonder why he did it?” reflected Larry. “I have it! He heard us
talking, he had seen me spying on him. He reasoned that the game was
up, and by a colossal piece of bluff, he walked out of his room, right
under my nose, and took most of the million dollars with him. He left
this thousand-dollar bill to provide money for his escape. He’s got the
million salted away, and he may skip out any minute, and get to it.
Then--good-night!”
Larry thought rapidly. Certainly quick action was necessary. He put the
false moustache back in the drawer, gave a hurried glance about the
room, to make sure the clerk, on his return, would notice nothing awry,
and then went downstairs. He found Mrs. Boland waiting for him.
“Well?” she asked anxiously.
“I think I had better say nothing,” answered Larry. “If you know
nothing you will not worry.”
“Oh, but did you find anything? Is Mr. Witherby----?”
“I had rather not answer,” spoke Larry. “When Mr. Witherby comes back
please say nothing to him. There may be big developments in the next
few hours.”
“Oh, but to think of the disgrace that may come to my boarding-house!”
she cried.
“I think I can promise you that there will be no shadow of disgrace,”
said Larry. “By the way, your new servant wanted to get in to clean his
room, while I was there. I put her off. You had best explain to her.”
“Oh, yes, you mean Katie. I will. I forgot about her when I let you go
up. Oh, but I hope there will be nothing disgraceful, for I have always
kept a respectful place, Mr. Dexter.”
“Don’t worry,” said Larry kindly, for he felt sorry for the landlady.
As he was on his way back to New York, Larry thought of many things.
Clearly something must be done at once. He must see Mr. Bentfield.
Probably the banker would order the clerk’s arrest, when he learned of
the false moustache, and the thousand-dollar bill.
“And I’ll get a great story!” thought the young reporter. “I’m sorry
for the poor fellow, though. Maybe the temptation was more than he
could stand. A million dollars is a lot of money.”
On reaching New York, Larry called Mr. Bentfield up on the telephone,
giving a hint of the disclosure he had to make.
“I’d like to have a talk with you, Mr. Bentfield,” said Larry, over the
wire. “Shall I call at your house?”
“No, I had rather meet you at the bank. I know it’s rather late, but
we can be undisturbed there. I’ll have my lawyer with me, and, if
necessary to act, we can do so from there. Besides, Witherby won’t be
back until morning. I’ll telephone the watchman at the bank to admit
you. Go in, and make yourself comfortable. I’ll be down as soon as I
can.”
“All right,” answered Larry, and he started for the bank in Wall
street.