CHAPTER XXI

Word From the Missing

"There seems to be something queer about the way the search goes on,"

said Bailey to Allingham. "They don't pull together, some way."

"I think it's because there is no real, efficient head to the

committee," returned Allingham. "Blatchley's afraid of running counter

to Mann; or if not exactly that, he waits for our acting mayor to take

the initiative."

"Which he will never do," retorted Bailey. "It isn't in him--and

besides--"

"I know what you mean," replied Allingham. "You don't have to put it in

words. But something more definite and aggressive has got to be done

than is doing now."

"Right you are," said Armstrong. "The question is--what?"

"The people are getting clamorous, not to say critical," said Allingham,

"Why not call another mass-meeting and put it right to them to demand or

institute a better organized search for the missing mayor?"

"Good idea," said Bailey. "Let's talk it over with Mason and Turner and

Jewett, and see if we can't stir Mann up a bit."

The two men had been lunching together at the club, with a little talk

afterwards, while they smoked their cigars in the lazy summer atmosphere

of the well-kept garden.

"Well, here it is three o'clock," added Bailey; "and I have an

appointment at a quarter-past. So long."

"I must be going, too;" and Allingham followed, walking down street as

far as his office. Once there, he hung up his hat, changed his coat for

a thinner one, and sat down to his desk, whereupon a pile of letters lay

unopened. It was a warm day, and Allingham took his own time to read his

correspondence, and jot down on the back of the letters the reply which

he wished his secretary to write when she arrived in the morning. Then

he rested his head in his hands and his elbows on the desk for a few

moments' quiet thought before closing his office for the day. It was a

habit he had, when alone, and today the baffling situation with regard

to the woman-mayor was making him more worried than ever.

"There's some devilish chicanery going on in high quarters," he told

himself, "or this search would be conducted differently. The thing for

us to do is to find out just what O. H. M., Esquire, is up to in his

little mind. Hullo, what's this?"

A slip of paper had been tossed by the vagrant wind, through the open

window onto his desk and lay there, open, under his eyes. Ordinarily, he

would have swept the crumpled thing into his waste basket. But the

mysterious power which guides us when we do the unexpected thing, stayed

his hands, and the half-obliterated note arrested his attention.

confined in top

block. Safe but

come to the corner

Streets and liberate

Gertrude

Mary S

"Good Heavens!" cried Allingham. "They are somewhere in the

neighborhood--or were, when this was written. No date, nothing to show

where they were or when. Just like a woman. Well, well, here's

something to work on at last, thank Heaven." He turned the piece of

paper over and over, but there was nothing more to be seen, and he held

it up to the light in vain, when he tried to make out what the penciled

words had been which had completed the sentence.

"Let's see. This is Thursday. What day was it, when it rained so?

Tuesday? No. Sunday? Then this was written before that and has laid out

where it was washed by the rain. Then it has dried in the sun and the

wind caught it up and brought it here. Blessed wind!"

He walked over to the window and looked down into the street. He had two

rooms, one of them a small, back room, opening into a court; but this

piece of paper had floated in from the street under his very eyes. He

looked across at the big block opposite. She might be right there. A big

department store occupied the lower floors--but the upper stories

seemed to be tenements for living purposes. What if she should be there,

now--at this very moment? Or here, under the same roof with himself?

The thought electrified him and he went out, locking his door behind

him. There was an elevator. "Top," the note had said. He took the lift

and went to the topmost floor, stealing down the corridors on a voyage

of discovery, and feeling like a thief, or a detective. But the rooms

were all occupied by tailors or the like, and every door stood hospitably

open. Surely he could not reasonably disturb these people and search

their premises without a warrant.

He turned and went down again, with the happy inspiration to telephone

to the chief of police and to Bailey Armstrong.

"If you could come right here," he said to the former, "I can not only

give you some important information, but give you an idea of this

locality which you may not possess. For I have a positive clue."

"I'll be with you in fifteen minutes," replied the official, who cared

not a rap for the dignity of his position.

To Bailey, Allingham only said: "Come down here at once, I've something

definite and important to tell you and to show you. But not a word over

the telephone."

In five minutes Bailey came in, breathless. "What is it?" he demanded.

"Read this," and Allingham put the scrap of paper in his hands and

related the story of its anchorage on his desk after days of weary

wandering. Before the tale was fairly unfolded, the chief of police

appeared and it had to be told all over again.

"Now," said Allingham, when he had finished, "what is the first and

quickest thing to be done?"

"Organize," answered the chief. "Get a few men together and go through

this section of the town thoroughly. Strange we haven't done more right

here. We've gone on the theory that they were in the suburbs or in some

other town."

"And probably they have been right under our noses, all the time," said

Bailey.

"Or over them," returned the chief. "You say you went upstairs."

"Yes. They can't be here," replied Allingham. "Not on the top floor. But

there are tenements over opposite."

"We'll take 'em all in, if necessary," said the chief. "What do you say

to my coming up here tonight and meeting you two. I'll have a dozen

plain-clothes men happen around, and we'll do a little looking around

here quietly, between nine and twelve."

"Great," said Armstrong.

"I'll have the office open at eight-thirty," said Allingham.

The chief came alone, however, at a quarter of nine, greeting Bailey and

Allingham confidently.

"Where are your men?" asked Allingham, fearful lest the chief's courage

had given out.

"You didn't think I'd arouse the suspicion of the whole neighborhood by

bringing a whole posse up here with me?" retorted the official. "They're

scattered around the square, nosing about quietly. If they can pick up

anything it mightn't come amiss. We'd all better saunter around a

little, first. We'll go over to Erlich's drug-store and have a soda. A

couple of my men will fall in with us there. Later we'll go into the

saloon across the way. Before we get out, they'll all be with us, or

outside the building--see?"

And they were; but previous to this, several of the men had made errands

into the various blocks in that section, but had added no bits of

information to their scanty stock. Several quiet families were surprised

by the appearance at their doors of strange men on strange errands, but

not a clue could be obtained that fastened suspicion on anyone. It

seemed pretty clear that there were no kidnaped women in the block

opposite, nor in the row of blocks on the side where John Allingham had

his office. They went in and out of every block that was not locked upon

the street, and invaded every floor, but without avail. Their search

lasted until twelve, when the plain-clothes men dropped off quietly and

went home.

"Tomorrow we'll investigate the places where we can't get into tonight,

and the blocks back of this one. There is an apartment house back of us,

isn't there?"

"I don't know," answered Allingham. "I never go over onto Collins

Avenue. But--yes, there is a block or two there. We didn't get around

there tonight?"

"Tut-tut, one thing at a time," answered the chief. "The note came in at

your front window, you said. It wouldn't have been likely to fly over

from a street behind you--would it?"

"I'm not so sure of that!" muttered Bailey; and when the chief had gone,

he added: "I'm going to sneak around into Collins Avenue before I go

home, and sort of get the lay of the land. Come, too?"

"I'll join you in a minute," answered Allingham. "I'm not sure I closed

the windows to my back office. Wait for me."

"No; I'll stroll round there and be taking a look," answered Bailey.

"You can meet me at a little drug-store there is around the corner." He

strolled away and his friend went upstairs to his office. He opened the

door with his latch-key, as quietly as possible, meaning just to take a

look, and make things secure for the night, but--

There, under the bright electric light, stood--Gertrude Van Deusen.

A Woman for Mayor: A Novel of To-day · 第 21 / 27 章