THE CASE AND THE GIRL
BY RANDALL PARRISH
1922
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I THE LADY IN THE LIMOUSINE
II A SUDDEN ENGAGEMENT
III THE COOLIDGE HOME
IV MISS COOLIDGE EXPLAINS
V WEST WINS THE FIRST HAND
VI UNTANGLING THREADS
VII A VISIT TO THE INDIGENT
VIII A NEW MISS COOLIDGE
IX AN UNEXPECTED DISMISSAL
X THE BODY OF A SUICIDE
XI SUSPICION VERIFIED
XII AGAINST A STONE WALL
XIII 238 WRAY STREET
XIV TRAPPED
XV THE EDGE OF COMPROMISE
XVI WEST MAKES HIS CHOICE
XVII FACING DEATH
XVIII UNDER COVER
XIX THE COMING OF A MESSAGE
XX WHAT THE TELEPHONE TOLD
XXI THE YACHT "SEMINOLE"
XXII KIDNAPPED
XXIII THE FATE OF A PRISONER
XXIV THE SINKING YACHT
XXV FREE OF THE YACHT
XXVI THE COMING OF DAWN
XXVII LOVE BREAKS SILENCE
XXVIII AN ESCAPE FROM THE RAFT
XXIX THE HOUSE IN THE BLUFFS
XXX HOBART FORGETS AND TALKS
XXXI McADAMS BLOWS IN
XXXII A BRIDGE OF LOVE
THE CASE AND THE GIRL
CHAPTER I
THE LADY IN THE LIMOUSINE
West, still attired in khaki uniform, but wearing the red chevron of
honourable discharge on his left sleeve, sat in the Club writing room,
his feet comfortably elevated, endeavouring to extract some entertainment
from the evening paper. The news was not particularly interesting,
however, and finally, obsessed with the feeling that it would soon be
time for him to seriously contemplate the procuring of suitable
employment, the young man turned the sheet about rather idly, and ran his
eyes down the columns devoted to classified advertising.
Half way down the first column, under the head of "miscellaneous," he
paused and read a paragraph with some interest; then read it over again,
emitting a soft whistle between his teeth.
"Well, by Jove!" he said to himself slowly, "That doesn't sound so bad
either; out of the ordinary, at least. Say, Thompson," and he turned to
a tall young fellow busily writing at the adjoining desk, and shoved the
paper under his eyes, pointing at the paragraph which had attracted
attention, with one finger, "What do you make out of that, old man?"
The other, rather sober-faced, and slow of speech, read the advertisement
word by word, with no change of expression.
"Rot," he said solemnly. "Either a joke, or some scheme on. Why?
interested in it?"
"In a measure, yes. Sounds rather business-like to me. I've got a good
mind to answer, and take a chance."
"You're a fool if you do, Matt," decisively, and turning back to his
writing. "That is some game being pulled off, and the first thing you
know, you'll be in bad. Likely as not it means blackmail. Besides there
is no address."
"That's one thing I like about it," retorted the other. "They are in
earnest, and taking no chances of having their purpose guessed at. There
is a way to reach them, if the one answering is sufficiently in earnest.
By Jove, I don't see how any one can get in bad, merely by finding out
what it all means."
"Well, do as you please; you would anyhow. Only you have my advice."
West read the item again. He had been eighteen months in France, and his
discharge from the army had left him bored and dissatisfied with the dull
routine of civil life. He dreaded to get back into the harness of a
prosaic existence; even his profession as a civil engineer had someway
lost its charm. He had tasted the joy of adventure, the thrill of danger,
and it was still alluring. This advertisement promised a mystery which
strangely attracted his imagination.
_"Wanted: Young man of education and daring for service involving some
personal peril. Good pay, and unusual reward if successful. May have to
leave city. Purpose disclosed only in personal interview."_
As Thompson had pointed out, this was not signed, nor any address given.
West crossed over to an unoccupied desk, and wrote a reply, changing the
wording several times, and finally making a clean copy. Thompson glanced
across at him, but said nothing. The answer read:
_"To Advertiser: Am 26; late captain of Engineers; University graduate
adventurous disposition. Would be glad to consider your proposition.
Address, Box 57, University Club."_
He placed this in an envelope, called a Club messenger, and, handing the
boy a sum of money, sent him over to the newspaper office.
Two days elapsed before an answer appeared in his box; a small envelope,
addressed in a lady's handwriting apparently, and mailed from one of the
sub-postoffices. West tore it open rather eagerly, and read the contents
with surprise. The words within had been written by the same hand which
appeared upon the envelope, but the language used gave him no clue to the
purpose of the writer. The brief note read:
"Box 57 University Club.
"Your answer to advertisement makes a good impression, and I am willing
to put you to the further test of a personal meeting. If you are in
earnest in this matter, and quite prepared to assume the necessary risk,
you will be at the north-west corner of Spaulding Park at 5:30 to-morrow
afternoon. Do not come in uniform, but it will be well to bring evening
clothes in a bag. Be sure of yourself, and be prompt.
"Very truly yours,
"The Advertiser."
West read this over, again and again, smoking furiously, and endeavouring
to weigh each word. He saw Thompson in the other room, but decided not to
submit the epistle to his criticism. The letter sounded honest and
sincere; the writer evidently had a purpose in view, and was selecting
an agent with great care and secrecy. No hint as to what that object was
would be revealed blindly--he must be tried in every way first;
thoroughly tested as to both character and courage. Undoubtedly steps had
already been taken to do this. The delay in reply would have afforded
opportunity for some investigation, as his address would give the
necessary clue to his identity. The request for evening clothes, however,
rather reassured him; evidently his first plunge into this mystery was
not to occur in any stratum of low society; no vast amount of personal
danger could be involved in such preliminaries. The truth was, the note
only increased his former interest in the case, and his determination to
probe more deeply into its mystery. So the advertiser was a woman! This
fact also stimulated his imagination, and rendered him the more eager. By
Jove! he would see the thing through!
His decision was reached, yet West, although still young and adventurous,
had received the rigorous training of the soldier, and learned lessons of
discretion. He would go, but would make every effort to protect himself
against any possible treachery. He had a room at the Club, and wrote a
letter or two before proceeding to dress, arranging for their personal
delivery in case he failed to return at a designated time; carefully
examined his service revolver, and deposited it in the pocket of the
business suit he decided to wear. Satisfied with these arrangements, he
dressed rapidly, and then packed his bag, bearing it in his hand as he
departed in ample time for the point of rendezvous. A cab took him to the
place designated, and he found himself alone in a rather desolate spot,
with which he was in no way familiar. No doubt he had passed there again
and again, as a boulevard extended along one side of the small park, yet
his memory retained no clear recollection of the place. There were a few
small stores opposite, while the park itself was well kept, and populated
almost entirely by nursemaids, judging from the number of baby carriages
trailing along the walks. Back of the curb were a few benches, but West
chose to remain outside, depositing his bag in plain view of any one
passing, and then walked back and forth somewhat nervously. He was there
several minutes ahead of time, and compared his watch by a clock in a
church tower a block away. He had no knowledge of how he was to be
approached, or identified, but his being requested to bring a bag
containing evening clothes, somehow suggested riding, rather than
walking, and consequently his eyes followed more or less intently the
constant stream of automobiles.
He grew restless, and more doubtful as the moments slipped past. Surely
he could not have mistaken the place of appointment or the hour? He
glanced at the scene to again reassure himself. No, that was impossible;
the park name was plainly decipherable beside the entrance, and his watch
coincided exactly with the clock in the tower. He stood beside his bag,
staring up and down the boulevard, permitting his eyes to occasionally
wander to the scene within the enclosure. Nothing rewarded his scrutiny.
Then suddenly, without slightest warning, a black limousine whirled in
alongside the curb, and came to a stop immediately in front of where he
waited. The chauffeur, dressed in plain dark livery, stepped out, and
threw open the rear door, without asking so much as a question. Except
that the fellow stood there, looking directly toward him, his fingers on
the latch, expectantly, West would not have known that he was wanted. Yet
it was all so obvious he could not question. Silently he picked up his
bag, and stepped forward. He saw no one within, but firm in the belief
that the chauffeur must have his orders, he entered blindly, the door
closing instantly behind him. The curtains were drawn, the interior
gloomy and indistinct, and the driver had resumed his seat, and started
the motor, before West realized that he was not alone. In one corner of
the wide back seat, drawn back from any possible observation from
without, sat a woman.
At first glance he could only barely distinguish the outlines of her
figure, dimly discernable against the dark background of the upholstery,
but, as his eyes accustomed themselves to the faint light, her features
also became dimly visible--enough so, at least, to convince him that she
was young. Neither spoke for some moments, while the automobile gathered
speed, and West had an uncomfortable feeling that the lady was watching
him with great intentness. Slightly embarrassed, and uncertain as to his
best course of action, the young man remained silent, his eyes on the
burly back of the chauffeur, revealed through the front glass. He could
only quietly await her explanation of this strange situation. The delay
was not a long one. She laughed, nervously perhaps, yet with a sense of
humour at the awkward position.
"Quite melodramatic, is it not, Captain West?" she asked, in a decidedly
pleasant voice. "I trust it appeals thoroughly to that disposition for
adventure of which you wrote. I assure you I have arranged the details
to the best of my ability."
"Nothing more could be desired, I am sure," he confessed, surprised at
her tone, and glancing toward her. "I certainly am left completely in the
dark, unable even to clearly distinguish my mysterious companion in
adventure."
"And there really is no longer any occasion for such concealment." She
lifted the heavy curtain beside her, permitting the grey light to rest
upon her face. "I preferred not to be seen at the park for obvious
reasons; but here, alone with you, such precaution is quite
unnecessary. We are to be either friends, or enemies, so frankness is
the best course."
He saw the face of a young woman of twenty-four, or five, with dark eyes
and hair, her cheeks flushed with health and excitement, her lips
smiling. It was a face of unusual attractiveness, not regular, perhaps,
in any of its features, yet filled with character, and glowing with life.
It was to him a totally unfamiliar countenance, but one which as
instantly awakened his interest. He liked the girl, and believed in her.
"I can only thank you," he said, rather lamely. "Although I do not
understand now how we could ever become enemies. Surely, that is not
a threat?"
"Oh, no, it is far too true. You have yet to learn what I require. Yet
that was very nicely said. I take it to mean your first impression of me
is not unfavourable?"
"Very far from it. I am already deeply interested in my task. If I lacked
an incentive before, you have furnished it. I am only too glad I was the
fortunate volunteer."
She laughed again softly, her eyes still on his face.
"Really, I had not anticipated such a sincere compliment. No doubt you
learned these delightful speeches in France," she answered, a very faint
tinge of sarcasm in the words. "However, this is a very serious matter,
Captain West, and really has nothing to do with my personal appearance. I
am, of course, being a woman, glad that I please you, but we must
consider this particular affair from an entirely different standpoint. I
am seeking neither flirtation nor compliment; merely a trustworthy agent.
First of all, it is necessary that you comprehend this."
He bowed, impressed by her manner, and somewhat ashamed of his
impetuousity.
"I accept the reproof," he said quietly, "and will endeavour henceforth
not to offend in any way. I am entirely at your service."
"There is no offence; I merely thought it best there should be no
misunderstanding. Now, I am sure, we can proceed intelligently. Indeed, I
am going to frankly confess, I also like your appearance. This mutual
liking ought to be half the battle. We have quite a ride before us yet;
you may question me if you wish."