"How can I tell? It's a threat, and that's enough for me; he's capable
of anything fiendish enough to amuse him." He shook his clenched fists
impotently above his head. "Oh, if ever again I get within arm's length
of the hound ...!"
"Look here," said Staff; "I'm a good deal in the dark about this
business. You've got to calm yourself and help me out. Now you say Miss
Searle's your daughter; yet you were on the ship together and didn't
recognise one another--at least, so far as I could see."
"You don't see everything," said Iff; "but at that, you're right--she
didn't recognise me. She hasn't for years--seven years, to be exact. It
was seven years ago that she ran away from me and changed her name. And
it was all _his_ doing! I've told you that Ismay has, in his jocular
way, made a practice of casting suspicion on me. Well, the thing got so
bad that he made her believe I was the criminal in the family. So, being
the right sort of a girl, she couldn't live with me any longer and she
just naturally shook me--went to Paris to study singing and fit herself
to earn a living. I followed her, pleaded with her, but she couldn't be
made to understand; so I had to give it up. And that was when I
registered my oath to follow this cur to the four corners of the earth,
if need be, and wait my chance to trip him up, expose him and clear
myself. And now he's finding the going a bit rough, thanks to my
public-spirited endeavours, and he takes this means of tying my hands!"
"I should think," said Staff, "you'd have shot him long before this."
"Precisely," agreed Iff mockingly. "That's just where the
bone-headedness comes in that so endears you to your friends. If I
killed him, where would be my chance to prove I hadn't been guilty of
the crimes he's laid at my door? He's realised that, all along.... I
passed him on deck one night, coming over; it was midnight and we were
alone; the temptation to lay hands on him and drop him overboard was
almost irresistible--and he knew it and laughed in my face!... And
that's the true reason why I didn't accuse him when I was charged with
the theft of the necklace--because I couldn't prove anything and a
trumped-up accusation that fell through would only make my case the
worse in Nelly's sight.... But I'll get him yet!"
"Have you thought of going to Hartford?"
"I'm no such fool. If that letter was posted in Hartford this morning,
it means that Ismay's in Philadelphia."
"But isn't he wise enough to know you'd think just that?"
Iff sat up with a flush of excitement. "By George!" he cried--"there's
something in that!"
"It's a chance," said Staff thoughtfully.
The little man jumped up and began to pace the floor. To and fro, from
the hall-door to the windows, he strode. At perhaps the seventh turn at
the windows he paused, looking out, then moved quickly back to Staff's
side.
"Taxicab stopping outside," he said in a low voice: "woman getting
out--Miss Landis, I think. If you don't mind, I'll dodge into your
bedroom."
"By all means," assented his host, rising.
Iff swung out of sight into the back room as Staff went to and opened
the hall-door.
Alison had just gained the head of the stairs. She came to the study
door, moving with her indolent grace, acknowledging his greeting with an
insolent, cool nod.
"Not too late, I trust?" she said enigmatically.
"For what?" asked Staff, puzzled.
"For this appointment," she said, extending a folded bit of paper.
"Appointment?" he repeated with the rising inflection, taking the paper.
"It was delivered at my hotel half an hour ago," she told him. "I
presumed you ..."
"No," said Staff. "Half a minute...."
He shut the door and unfolded the note. The paper and the chirography,
he noticed, were identical with those of the note received by Iff from
Hartford. With this settled to his satisfaction, he read the contents
aloud, raising his voice a trifle for the benefit of the listener in the
back room.
"'If Miss Landis wishes to arrange for the return of the
Cadogan collar, will she be kind enough to call at Mr. Staff's
rooms in Thirtieth Street at a quarter to ten tonight.
"'N. B.--Any attempt to bring the police or private detectives
or other outsiders into the negotiations will be instantly
known to the writer and--there won't be any party.'"
"Unsigned," said Staff reflectively.
"Well?" demanded Alison, seating herself.
"Curious," remarked Staff, still thinking.
"Well?" she iterated less patiently. "Is it a practical joke?"
"No," he said, smiling; "to me it looks like business."
"You mean that the thief intends to come here--to bargain with me?"
"I should fancy so, from what he says.... And," Staff added, crossing to
his desk, "forewarned is forearmed."
He bent over and pulled out the drawer containing his revolver. At the
same moment he heard Alison catch her breath sharply, and a man's voice
replied to his platitude.
"Not always," it said crisply. "Be good enough to leave that gun
lay--just hold up your hands, where I can see them, and come away from
that desk."
Staff laughed shortly and swung smartly round, exposing empty hands. In
the brief instant in which his back had been turned a man had let
himself into the study from the hall. He stood now with his back to the
door, covering Staff with an automatic pistol.
"Come away," he said in a peremptory tone, emphasising his meaning with
a flourish of the weapon. "Over here--by Miss Landis, if you please."
Quietly Staff obeyed. He had knocked about the world long enough to
recognise the tone of a man talking business with a gun. He placed
himself beside Alison's chair and waited, wondering.
Indeed, he was very much perplexed and disturbed. For the first time
since Iff had won his confidence against his better judgment, his faith
in the little man was being shaken. This high-handed intruder was so
close a counterpart of Mr. Iff that one had to look twice to distinguish
the difference, and then found the points of variance negligible--so
much so that the fellow might well be Iff in different clothing and
another manner. And Iff could easily have slipped out of the bedroom by
_its_ hall door. Only, to shift his clothes so quickly he would have to
be a lightning-change artist of exceptional ability.
On the whole, Staff decided, this couldn't be Iff. And yet ... and
yet ...
"You may put up that pistol," he said coolly. "I'm not going to jump
you, so it's unnecessary. Besides, it's bad form with a lady present.
And finally, if you should happen to let it off the racket would bring
the police down on you more quickly than you'd like, I fancy."
The man grinned and shoved the weapon into a pocket from which its grip
projected handily.
"Something in what you say," he assented. "Besides, I'm quick,
surprisingly quick with my hands."
"Part of your professional equipment, no doubt," commented Staff
indifferently.
"Admit it," said the other easily. He turned his attention to Alison.
"Well, Miss Landis ...?"
"Well, Mr. Iff?" she returned in the same tone.
"No," he corrected; "not Iff--Ismay."
"So you've changed identities again!"
"Surely you don't mind?" he said, grinning over the evasion.
"But you denied being Ismay aboard the Autocratic."
"My dear lady, you couldn't reasonably expect me to plead guilty to a
crime which I had not yet committed."
"Oh, get down to business!" Staff interrupted impatiently. "You're
wasting time--yours as well as ours."
"Peevish person, your young friend," Ismay commented confidentially to
Alison. "Still, there's something in what he says. Shall we--ah--begin
to negotiate?"
"I think you may as well," she agreed coldly.
"Very well, then. The case is simple enough. I'm here to offer to
secure the return of the Cadogan collar for an appropriate reward."
"Ten thousand dollars has been offered," she began.
"Not half enough, my dear lady," he interposed. "You insult the necklace
by naming such a meagre sum--to say nothing of undervaluing _my_
intelligence."
"So that's it!" she said reflectively.
"That is it, precisely. I am in communication with the person who stole
your necklace; she's willing to return it for a reward of reasonable
size."
"She? You mean Miss Searle?"
The man made a deprecating gesture. "Please don't ask me to name the
lady...."
"I knew it!" Alison cried triumphantly.
"You puppy!" Staff exclaimed. "Haven't you the common manhood to
shoulder the responsibility for your crimes yourself?"
"Tush," said the man gently--"tush! Not a pretty way to talk at
all--calling names! I'm surprised. Besides, I ought to know better than
you, acting as I do as agent for the lady in question."
"That's a flat lie," said Staff. "If you repeat it--I warn you--I'll
jump you as sure 's my name's Staff, pistol or no pistol!"
"Aren't you rather excited in your defence of this woman?" Alison turned
on him with a curling lip.
"I've a right to my emotions," he retorted--"to betray them as I see
fit."
"And I," Ismay put it, "to my freedom of speech--"
"Not in my rooms," Staff interrupted hotly. "I've warned you. Drop this
nonsense about Miss Searle if you want to stop here another minute
without a fight. Drop it! Say what you want to say to Miss Landis----and
get out!"
He was thoroughly enraged, and his manner of expressing himself seemed
to convince the thief. With a slight shrug of his shoulders he again
addressed himself directly to Alison.
"In the matter of the reward," he said, "we're of the opinion that
you've offered too little by half. Twenty thousand at the least--"
"You forget I have the duty to pay."
"My dear lady, if you had not been anxious to evade payment of the duty
you would be enjoying the ownership of your necklace today."
As he spoke the telephone-bell rang. Staff turned away to his desk,
Ismay's voice pursuing him with the caution.
"Don't forget about that open drawer--keep your hands away from it."
"Oh, be quiet," returned Staff contemptuously. Standing with his back
to them, he took up the instrument and lifted off the receiver.
"Hello?" he said irritably.
He was glad that his face was not visible to his guests; he could
restrain a start of surprise, but was afraid his expression would have
betrayed him when he recognised the voice at the other end of the line
as Iff's.
"Don't repeat my name," it said quickly in a tone low but clear. "That
is Iff. Ismay still there?"
"Yes," said Staff instantly: "it's I, Harry. How are you?"
"Get rid of him as quick 's you can," Iff continued, "and join me here at
the Park Avenue. I dodged down the fire-escape and caught his motor-car;
his chauffeur thinks I'm him. I'll wait in the street--Thirty-third
Street side, with the car. Now talk."
"All right," said Staff heartily; "glad to. I'll be there."
"Chauffeur knows where Nelly is, I think; but he's too big for me to
handle alone, in case my foot slips and he gets suspicious. That's why I
need you. Bring your gun."
"Right," Staff agreed promptly. "The club in half an hour. Yes, I'll
come. Good-bye."
He turned back toward Ismay and Alison, his doubts resolved, all his
vague misgivings as to this case of double identity settled finally and
forever.
"Alison," he said, breaking in roughly upon something Ismay was saying
to the girl, "you've a cab waiting outside, haven't you?"
Alison stared in surprise. "Yes," she said in a tone of wonder.
Staff paused beside the divan, one hand resting upon the topmost of a
little heap of silken cushions. "Mind if I borrow it?" he asked,
ignoring the man.
"No, but--"
"It's business--important," said Staff. "I'll have to leave you here at
once. Only"--he watched Ismay closely out of the corners of his
eyes--"if I were you I wouldn't waste any more time on this fellow. He's
bluffing--can't carry out anything he promises."
Ismay turned toward him, expostulant.
"What d' you mean by that?" he demanded.
"Miss Searle has escaped," said Staff deliberately.
"No!" cried Ismay, startled and thrown off his guard by the fear it
might be so. "Impossible!"
"Think so?" As he spoke Staff dextrously snatched up the uppermost
pillow and with a twist of his hand sent it whirling into the thief's
face.
It took him utterly unawares. His arms flew up too late to ward it off,
and he staggered back a pace.
"Lots of impossible things keep happening all the time," chuckled Staff
as he closed in.
There was hardly a struggle. Staff's left arm clipped the man about the
waist at the same time that his right hand deftly abstracted the pistol
from its convenient pocket. Then, dropping the weapon into his own
pocket, he transferred his hold to Ismay's collar and spun him round
with a snap that fairly jarred his teeth.
"There, confound you!" he said, exploring his pockets for other lethal
weapons and finding nothing but three loaded clips ready to be inserted
in the hollow butt of the pistol already confiscated. "Now what 'm I
going to do with you, you blame' little pest?"
The question was more to himself than to Ismay, but the latter,
recovering with astonishing quickness, answered Staff by suddenly
squirming out of his coat and leaving it in his assailant's hands as he
ducked to the door and flung himself out.
Staff broke into a laugh as the patter of the little man's feet was
heard on the stairs.
"Resourceful beggar," he commented, going to the window and rolling up
the coat as he went. He reached it just in time to see the thief dodge
out.
The coat, opening as it descended, fell like a blanket round Ismay's
head. He stumbled, tripped and fell headlong down the steps, sprawling
and cursing.
"Thought you might need it," Staff apologised as the man picked himself
up and darted away.
He turned to confront an infuriated edition of Alison.
"Why did you do that?" she demanded with a stamp of her foot. "What
right had you to interfere? I was beating him down; in another minute
we'd have come to terms--"
"Oh, don't be silly, my dear," said Staff, taking his revolver from the
desk-drawer and placing it in the hip-pocket of tradition. "To begin
with, I don't mind telling you I don't give much of a whoop whether you
ever get that necklace back or not." He grabbed his hat and started for
the door. "What I'm interested in is the rescue of Miss Searle, if you
must know; and that's going to happen before long, or I miss my guess."
He paused at the open door. "If we get her, we get the necklace, of
course--and the Lord knows you'll be welcome to that. Would you mind
turning out the lights before you go?"
"Staff!"
Her tone was so peremptory that he hesitated an unwelcome moment
longer.
"Well?" he asked civilly, wondering what on earth she had found to fly
into such a beastly rage about.
"You know what this means?"
"You tell me," he smiled.
"It means the break; I won't play _A Single Woman_!" she snapped.
"That's the best guess you've made yet," he laughed. "You win. Good
night and--good-bye."