Jack almost dropped the receiver. "Why--what--who--" he stammered.
He heard a light laugh on the wire. "You are surprised. But I was
sure I would find you there."
"Who is this?" asked Jack sparring for time--he knew very well.
"Need you ask?" replied the mocking voice. "This is the owner of the
desk at which you are now seated."
Jack said to himself, "Mustn't let him think he's putting it over you!"
He answered in the same mocking tone. "How do you do. So glad you
called me up."
Clapping a hand over the transmitter, he whispered swiftly to the
leading detective: "This is the man. Trace the call back. If he's
anywhere near, get him. I'll keep him talking."
The detective took a note of the number on the transmitter, and ran out
followed by Tommy.
Meanwhile the voice on the wire was saying: "Sorry I was out when you
called."
"Very glad to wait until you can get back," said Jack.
"That's nice of you. But I'm mighty sorry, I've been called out of
town."
As on a former occasion Jack's recollection was vaguely stirred by
something familiar in the man's voice. He supposed that this was the
man who had appeared as Comrade Wilde the night before, but as Wilde
had not spoken aloud within Jack's hearing, it must have been on some
other occasion he had heard this voice. But he could not place it.
When the exchange of ironical civilities began to pall, Jack asked
politely: "What can I do for you, Mr. B.?"
"I just wanted a little chat with you. I wanted to congratulate you on
your game."
"Thanks!"
"It's been a mighty interesting game that you and I have been playing
the last few weeks; a sort of chess game with human pawns, eh?"
"That's right."
"Well, you've won. You have checkmated me."
"Do you mind telling me what you mean by that exactly?"
"I have quit. Burned my records as you see; closed up Anderson and the
other agencies; paid off and called in all my operatives."
"Going to retire on your winnings, eh?"
"Quite so," was the calm reply. "But do me the credit of believing
that it was not the money I was playing for, but the joy of the game.
It was a great game! For three years I have pitted myself
single-handed against the combined wealth of this country. I have
taken my toll of the millionaires, and not all the power that wealth
commands was able to stop me!"
"True enough," said Jack grimly. "I could admire you myself, if you
had only left murder out of your calculations."
The man at the other end of the wire chose to ignore the ugly word. He
resumed: "I'm counting on the fact that your head is strong enough not
to be turned by what I'm telling you."
"I don't quite get you there," said Jack.
"In other words you're too good a man I hope, to be unduly puffed up by
the fact that I salute you as the victor, and retire from the game.
You will not be foolish enough to think that you have me altogether at
your mercy."
"Oh, I hope I know a good player myself when I see one."
"Good! Then you will be content with your victory, which I assure you
is no mean one for a man of your years. So long as you have stopped me
you will not feel that it is necessary to your triumph to have me
apprehended."
"Oh, I didn't say that," Jack answered quickly. "I should have to
consider that carefully. I couldn't promise anything offhand."
"Promise?" said the voice quickly, with a touch of pique. "I want no
promise. It is nothing to me what you decide. I like you for your
sportsmanlike qualities, and therefore I give you fair warning. It is
for your own good that I suggest you go no further."
"Much obliged," said Jack dryly, "I'll consider it."
There was still pique in the voice. "Don't get a swelled head, my
young friend. It is fatal to clever youths. I've been playing with
you the last few weeks. It amused me to see how near I could let you
come to me, and still evade you. But if I wished to keep out of your
way, you could never get within miles of me!"
"Then why bother about the matter?"
"Because I am tired of the chase. I'm going to settle down into a nice
hum-drum life of respectability. I'm not going to put myself to the
trouble of running away from you."
"And if I should still keep after you?"
"I'd be awfully sorry," drawled the voice, "but I should really have to
put a quietus on you. I could, you know. I've had a dozen chances
within the past ten days."
Jack had no reason to doubt the truth of the last statement. He
shivered a little. After all, life was sweet.
"I should hate to do it," the voice went on, "you're too good a sport."
"Much obliged," put in Jack.
"But I'd have no choice, really. I must have rest. My doctor orders
it."
Jack smiled grimly at the thought of a crook threatened with nervous
prostration as a result of overwork. These are rapid times that we
live in! He cast about in his mind for the means to prolong the
conversation.
"How do I know you're on the square?" he asked. "About quitting, I
mean."
"Go see your friend Anderson to-morrow. You'll find him closed up.
Mail your employer's check to the Eureka Protective Association. It
will be returned to you by the post-office."
It seemed wise to Jack to appear to fall in with the other's
suggestions. "I appreciate your friendliness in warning me," he said.
"Do you mind if I ask you a question or two. Just natural, human
curiosity, you know."
"Ask them and I'll see."
"How did you know I had been here in your office when you came. I had
disturbed nothing."
"Perhaps I was there myself at the time."
"Impossible! I made sure of that."