A STRANGE SEANCE
By this time the corridors, above and below were filled with excited
men, all scantily attired. Nat and Jack ran to where John was lying
on the landing, and lifted his head.
"I'm all right," exclaimed the Indian, as he opened his eyes. "Got a
bad one on the head, that's all. I can walk."
He proceeded to demonstrate this by standing up and mounting the
stairs.
"Did he get our money?" asked Nat.
In answer John showed the roll he still held tightly clenched in his
hand.
"Here are some pocketbooks," called a man from the upper hall.
"Then we're all right, after all," spoke Jack. "Money and pocketbooks
safe. How did it happen? How did you land on him, John?"
"He was in our room," replied the Indian. "I woke up and saw him.
Then I chased out, that's all."
The man who had picked up the pocketbooks handed them to Jack. The
boy saw his own on top, and opened it, as he had a number of
souvenirs and keepsakes in it. As he glanced in he uttered a cry of
surprise.
"The card Mr. Liggins gave me to present to Mr. Tevis is gone!" he
exclaimed. "Here! We must catch Professor Punjab! He has my card.
Come on!"
Jack was about to rush down the stairs but was stopped by several of
the men.
"You can't catch him," they said. "Besides, the police may have him
by now. Go back and get dressed."
The boys decided this was good advice, particularly as they were
getting chilled, for the halls were draughty. They donned some
clothes, and were all ready when several bluecoats and a number of
detectives in plain clothes arrived.
"Where'd they get in?" asked a big man, with a very black moustache.
"Let's see what sort of a job it was."
"Right in here," said the hotel manager, leading the way to where the
boys roomed. "From all accounts this was the only place he broke
into."
"Didn't really lose anything, did you?" asked the black-moustached
one of the boys.
"He got a valuable card," said Jack. "I would not like to lose it."
"What do you mean, a playing card; one you carried for luck?"
"No, I don't carry such things for luck," replied Jack. "It had a
message on it."
He described the queer bit of pasteboard Mr, Liggins had given him.
"Oh I see; it was a sort of charm," interposed the detective with the
light moustache.
"Well, we'll make a round of the pawnshops tomorrow. Maybe we'll
locate it."
"I don't believe so," said Jack, half to himself. "It's not a thing
that would be pawned."
The boy felt that Professor Punjab would be very likely to keep the
card, thinking it might be some mysterious talisman, which could be
used to advantage in his peculiar line of work. So Jack had little
faith in what the detective said.
There was nothing more for the police or detectives to do. No trace
of the thief was to be found, and, after a general look around, the
officers departed and the hotel settled down to normal quietness. The
boys went back to bed, but it was some time before they fell asleep.
Jack dozed uneasily, wondering how he was going to regain possession
of the card which Professor Punjab had stolen.
"You ought to be thankful it wasn't our money, which it would have
been, only for John," said Nat next morning. "Penetrating peanuts!
When I think of what might have happened I shudder," and he gave an
imitation of a cold chill running down his back.
"It's bad enough," said Jack. "Of course we need the money, but we
could get more on a pinch. We can't get another card like that,
though, and we may need it very much. At least I will."
"Let's go to the police and make them find it," suggested Nat.
"They'll never find it," put in John, who sat in a chair with his
head bandaged. "We'll have to depend on ourselves."
The robbery, and John's slight wound, necessitated a change in their
plans. They wired to Mr. Kent, Nat's uncle, that they would be
delayed. Then they arranged to stay several days in Chicago.
The hotel proprietor insisted on sending a physician, to see the
Indian. The medical man prescribed a rest, and, while John stayed in
his room his chums paid several visits to the police. Jack impressed
them with the value of the card, and the detectives really made
efforts to find it, and to arrest the "professor," but without
result.
One evening, as Jack and Nat came back from a visit to police
headquarters, they found John much excited.
"I think I'm on the right track," he said.
"How?" asked Jack.
"Listen to this" John went on, holding up a newspaper, and he read:
"Attention, all who suffer or are in distress. Professor Ali Baba,
one of the descendants of the Forty Thieves, who has devoted his life
to undoing the wrong they did, will give palm readings, star gazings,
trance answers, locate the lost, and, by a method learned from an
Indian Yogi, double your money. Readings one dollar up."
"You're not going to be taken in by one of those foolish
clairvoyants, are you?" asked Jack.
"Not exactly," said John. "But if I am right I think this Professor
Ali Baba is Hemp Smith, or Professor Punjab under another name."
"What makes you think so?" inquired Nat. "Rip-snorting radiators! But
if it should be!"
"That last clause about doubling your money, by the Indian method
leads me to believe it," said John. "That is how Punjab tried to rob
Mr. Post. Now I'm going to try this and see what it amounts to."
"But he'll know you as soon as he sees you," objected Nat.
"Not the way I fix up," replied the Indian.
The boys talked over the plan, and agreed it would do no harm for
John to attend a seance of the professor, whose address was given in
the advertisement.
[Illutsration: Give me the card!--Page 177]
John's best friend would hardly have known him as he sallied forth
the next day. He wore the bandages on his head, which was cut by his
fracas with the fake professor, and, in addition, he had tied one
about his jaw, as though he had the toothache.
He had no difficulty in finding the place. Outside the door was a
sign reading:
PROFESSOR ALI BABA. SCIENTIST.
John was admitted by a rather slick individual, in a shining, greasy
suit of black.
"The professor is busy just now," he said. "He will see you soon.
Meanwhile you had better give me a dollar, and state on which
particular line you wish to consult him."
John handed over a two dollar bill and said:
"Tell him to make it extra strong. I have lost a valuable article."
"I am sure he can find it for you," the sleek man said. "The
professor has wonderful success."
"Well he oughtn't to have much trouble finding this if he's the man I
take him for," thought John. As yet he was all at sea. He wanted to
get a glimpse of Professor Ali Baba.
At last his turn came. Carefully keeping his face concealed, John was
shown into a room gaudily decorated with tinsel and cheap hangings.
"Who seeks the knowledge the stars alone possess?" asked a deep
voice.
Jack started. He recognized at once the tones of the recent Professor
Punjab. An instant later he had a glimpse of the pretended
astrologer's face and knew he could not be mistaken.
"Draw near," said the fakir. "I know what thou seekest. It is that
which thou hast lost, and it is more precious to thee than rubies."
"In this particular instance it is," thought John, but he did not
answer at once, as he was so excited he could hardly control his
voice. He did not want the swindler to recognize him.
"Tell me but the veriest outline of that which thou seekest and I
will not only describe it, but tell you where you may find it, if the
stars so will," Punjab went on.
"It is very difficult," said John, speaking in a sort of whisper. He
wanted to gain a little time, to think best how to proceed. He had
been more successful than he dared to hope. His reasoning had been
exactly right. Now he wanted to make sure of success.
"No problem is too hard for those who read their answers in the
stars," replied the fakir. "Describe what you have lost."
"It is square," said John, slowly, and he drew a little closer to
where the pretended astrologer sat on a divan in the midst of
hangings, which let but little light into the room.
"Yes, square."
"And flat."
"Yes. Now one more little detail. I begin to see a glimmering of it
before me," and Professor Ali Baba pretended to go into a trance.
"It is white with black markings on it," John went on. "In fact it is
something you have right here in this house."
"What's that?" fairly shouted the professor.
"It's that card you stole from Jack Ranger!" went on John, coming
close to the fakir and gripping him by the wrists. "The card you took
from his pocketbook the night you broke into our rooms. I want it
back! Give it up, you scoundrel, or I'll call in the police."
"Let go!" yelled the professor.
"Give me the card!" shouted the Indian, struggling to hold the man,
who was trying to break away.
"Help!" cried the professor.
The curtains parted and the man who had answered John's summons at
the door entered.