THE ENEMY'S TRACKS
On the way returning to Gotham, Garrison learned every fact concerning
John Hardy, his former places of residence, his former friends, his
ways of life and habits that he deemed important to the issues and
requirements now in hand, with Dorothy's stepbrother more than half
suspected of the crime.
Dorothy gladly supplied the information. She had been on the verge of
despair, harboring her fear and despair all alone, with the loyal
desire to protect not only Foster, but Alice as well, and now she felt
an immense relief to have a man's clear-headed aid.
Garrison held out no specific hope.
The case looked black for young Durgin at the best, and the fellow had
run away. A trip to the small Connecticut town of Rockdale, where
Hardy had once resided, and to which it had long been his wont to
return as often as once a month, seemed to Garrison imperative at this
juncture.
He meant to see Tuttle at six, and start for the country in the evening.
He outlined his plan to Dorothy, acquainting her with the fact that he
had captured Theodore's spy, from whom he hoped for news.
By the time they came to the house near Washington Square, Dorothy was
all but asleep from exhaustion. The strain, both physical and mental,
to which she had been subjected during some time past, and more
particularly during the past two days, told quickly now when at last
she felt ready to place all dependence on Garrison and give up to
much-needed rest.
The meeting of Miss Ellis and Dorothy was but slightly embarrassing to
Garrison, when it presently took place. Explaining to the woman of the
house that his "wife" desired to stop all night in town, rather than go
on to Long Island, while he himself must be absent from the city, he
readily procured accommodations without exciting the least suspicion.
Garrison merely waited long enough to make Dorothy promise she would
take a rest without delay, and then he went himself to a hotel
restaurant, near by in Fifth Avenue, devoured a most substantial meal,
and was five minutes late at his office.
Tuttle had not yet appeared. The hall before the door was deserted.
The sign on his glass had been finished.
Garrison went in. There were letters all over the floor, together with
Dorothy's duplicate telegram, a number of cards, and some advertising
circulars. One of the cards bore the name of one J. P. Wilder, and the
legend, "Representing the New York _Evening Star_." There was nothing,
however, in all the stuff that appeared to be important.
Garrison read the various letters hastily, till he came to one from the
insurance company, his employers, requesting haste in the matter of the
Hardy case, and reminding him that he had reported but once. This he
filed away.
Aware at last that more than half an hour had gone, without a sign from
his man, he was on the point of going to the door to look out in the
hall when Tuttle's shadow fell upon the glass.
"I stayed away a little too long, I know," he said. "I was trying to
get a line on old man Robinson, to see if he'd give anything away, but
I guess he's got instructions from his son, who's gone away from town."
"Gone away from town?" repeated Garrison. "Where has he gone?"
"I don't know. The old man wouldn't say."
"You haven't seen Theodore?"
"No. He left about five this afternoon. The old man and his wife are
stopping in Sixty-fifth Street, where they used to live some months
ago."
"What did you report about me?"
"Nothing, except I hadn't seen you again," said Tuttle. "The old man
leaves it all to his son. He didn't seem to care where you had gone."
Garrison pondered the matter carefully. He made almost nothing out of
Theodore's departure from the scene. It might mean much or little.
That Theodore had something up his sleeve he entertained no doubt.
"It's important to find out where he has gone," he said. "See old
Robinson again. Tell him you have vital information on a special point
that Theodore instructed you to deliver to no one but himself, and the
old man may tell you where you should go. I am going out of town
to-night. Leave your address in case I wish to write."
"I'll do my best," said Tuttle, writing the address on a card. "Is
there anything more?"
"Yes. You know who the two men were who knocked me down in Central
Park and left a bomb in my pocket. Get around them in any way you can,
ascertain what agreement they had with young Robinson, or what
instructions, and find out why it was they did not rob me. Come here
at least once a day, right along, whether you find me in or not."
Once more Tuttle stated he would do his best. He left, and Garrison,
puzzling over Theodore's latest movement, presently locked up his
office and departed from the building.
He was no more than out on the street than he came upon Theodore's
tracks in a most unexpected direction. A newsboy came by, loudly
calling out his wares. An _Evening Star_, beneath his arm, stared at
Garrison with type fully three inches high with this announcement:
MYSTERY OF MURDER AND A WILL!!
_John Hardy May Have Been Slain! Beautiful
Beneficiary Married Just in Time!_
Garrison bought the paper.
With excitement and chagrin in all his being he glanced through the
story of himself and Dorothy--all that young Robinson could possibly
know, or guess, dished up with all the sensational garnishments of
which the New York yellow press is capable.
Sick and indignant with the knowledge that Dorothy must be apprised of
this at once, and instructed to remain in hiding, to induce all about
her to guard her from intrusion and to refuse to see all reporters who
might pursue the story, he hastened at once towards Washington Square,
and encountered his "wife," almost upon entering the house.
She was white with alarm.
He thought she had already seen the evening sheet.
"Jerold!" she said, "something terrible has happened. When I got up,
half an hour ago to dress--my wedding certificate was gone!"