_The_
NAMELESS MAN
By Natalie Sumner Lincoln
The Nameless Man
I Spy
The Official Chaperon
C. O. D.
The Man Inside
The Lost Despatch
The Trevor Case
D. APPLETON & COMPANY, NEW YORK
[Illustration: “There--look!” he cried, and his excitement communicated
itself to Ethel.
[PAGE 136]]
_The_
NAMELESS MAN
BY NATALIE SUMNER LINCOLN
AUTHOR OF “I SPY,” “THE OFFICIAL CHAPERON,” “C. O. D.,”
“THE MAN INSIDE,” “THE TREVOR CASE,” ETC.
ILLUSTRATED BY
H. R. BALLINGER
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
NEW YORK LONDON
1917
COPYRIGHT, 1917, BY D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
COPYRIGHT, 1917, BY THE MCCALL COMPANY
Printed in the United States of America
TO
MRS. FREDERICK DEMING
OF LITCHFIELD, CONNECTICUT,
WHOSE GRACIOUS HOSPITALITY AND KINDLY
INTEREST INSURED ITS PRODUCTION,
THIS BOOK IS AFFECTIONATELY
DEDICATED
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. SHADOWS 1
II. THE MAN FROM CALIFORNIA 6
III. WAYS THAT ARE DARK 15
IV. THE ALIBI 29
V. RECOGNITION 41
VI. AT THE JAPANESE EMBASSY 50
VII. THE LESSON 66
VIII. P. S. 82
IX. THE INTERVIEW 99
X. FREAKS OF MEMORY 112
XI. THE WHISPER 126
XII. QUICKSAND 143
XIII. THE QUARREL 157
XIV. A STARTLING INTERRUPTION 169
XV. THE FATAL REQUEST 181
XVI. THE INQUEST 189
XVII. THE CORONER ASKS QUESTIONS 204
XVIII. THE UNKNOWN 216
XIX. UNEXPECTED EVIDENCE 234
XX. EXCLUSIVE CLEWS 250
XXI. THE STILL, SMALL VOICE 261
XXII. THE CONFESSION 280
XXIII. THE MIDNIGHT VISITOR 291
XXIV. THE ROAD TO HAPPINESS 300
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
“There--look!” he cried, and his excitement communicated
itself to Ethel _Frontispiece_
FACING PAGE
“Come, come, Julian, this won’t do,” he said 84
“I will give you twelve hours to leave Washington or
I will expose you,” he announced 166
“Go back, Ethel,” Patterson commanded. “The fire
is spreading and you may be injured” 182
THE NAMELESS MAN
CHAPTER I
SHADOWS
THE invigorating breeze, stirring the leaves of the vines and rambler
roses which grew in profusion over the trellis-covered veranda,
carried, apparently, no comfort to the man seated there. He stared
ahead of him, oblivious to his surroundings, the handsome rugs covering
the veranda floor, the out-of-door furniture, the well-kept lawns
and flower beds. He was only conscious of a growing distaste for the
brilliant California sunshine, the blue of the heavens and the vivid
colors of the foliage; they did not match his brooding discontent.
A sudden stronger puff of wind carried a paper, loosely held in his
fingers, to the floor, and too indolent to move, he planted his
white-shod foot on it, leaving exposed the words: “By order of the
Court.”
“Oh, here you are,” exclaimed a voice from the direction of the living
room, and a middle-aged man stepped through the open French window on
to the veranda and sat down heavily in one of the lounging chairs.
“Seen these?” tossing several newspapers on the table.
“Yes,” answered his companion. “Washington doesn’t appear to have taken
kindly to your speech.”
Colonel Calhoun’s florid face turned a deeper red.
“The truth isn’t always pleasant,” he growled. “It’s not nice to read
that fancied security is fancy and nothing more. Japan has our measure,
and has spent years preparing to become mistress of the Pacific Ocean.”
“So they say--_here_,” and the slight emphasis on the last word caused
Calhoun’s eyes to flash with pent-up indignation.
“That’s Washington’s game, trying to make it a local issue,” he
explained heatedly. “Whereas, the control of the Pacific affects every
business man, every farmer in America. For the sake of our millions
invested in commerce we must guard this ocean; keep uninterrupted
our trade with China and the Orient; guard the waterway to Alaska,
a country of still undeveloped riches; keep the path clear to the
Philippine Islands, Guam, and Hawaii. Trade supremacy can sometimes
only be maintained by war. We shall have to fight for it.”
His companion nodded. “Shouldn’t wonder if we did,” he agreed
listlessly, “when Japan says the word.”
“Yes, and when she strikes she will strike quickly. Look,” Calhoun
indicated a map lying across a chair. “We have well-fortified harbors,
yes, but an _undefended_ coast line easily accessible to an enemy.
Japanese spies have been caught with reports of these fortifications,
with plans of the forts guarding the Golden Gate; and caught taking
soundings of the unfortified harbor of Monterey. It means that some day
the ‘Yellow’ man hopes to supplant the white American, as we, in our
time, supplanted the American red Indian.”
Calhoun’s companion laughed. “It’s not surprising that the cartoonists
caricature you as a saffron-hued jingoist.”
“Let them,” Calhoun shrugged his broad shoulders. “They’ll reverse
themselves, as did the Administration in the matter of the Panama Canal
tolls,--the price of our coastal rights being the sop thrown to England
to keep us out of war with her ally, Japan.”
“Well, what England did once she may do again,” retorted the other
lazily.
“With America prepared we will require no nation’s intervention in our
behalf,” declared Calhoun proudly. “But until we are----” The speaker
rose and paced back and forth. “Dreaming of vast empire, the foremost
men of Japan are planning and scheming for that nation’s territorial
advancement.”
“You’ll have some difficulty convincing America of that fact,” said his
companion skeptically.
“True.” Calhoun struck his clenched fist into his left hand. “The
majority of Americans think me a dreamer, or, at worst, a war-mad
jingoist. Yesterday a high government official declared: ‘If Calhoun
had half the brains he thinks he has, he’d be half-witted.’ The fools!”
added Calhoun bitterly. “It’s cheap to ridicule me, cheaper even
than burying dead Americans in trenches. Japan is crouching for the
spring; racial hatred is fanning the flame, and her emissaries are
everywhere. I’d willingly give $10,000 to the man who will unearth and
expose the Japanese cabal which, I believe, as I believe in God, is
being conducted in Washington City today right under the nose of our
government officials.”
His companion laid down his unopened cigarette case, his eyes for a
second seeking the paper still held on the floor by his foot--“By
order of the Court”--a sudden movement and his other foot covered the
words.
“Get out your check book, Calhoun,” he said. “I will go to Washington.”