THE TAN SATCHEL ONCE MORE
She told him about it. He was much cleverer than most people thought,
young Jimmy Stiles, and he was overpoweringly anxious to help the
Lawsons. There was no length to which his loyalty to them would not
carry him. Kendrick nodded, recalling the boy's story as he had heard
it from her father.
"I had no hesitation in taking Jimmy into my confidence from the
first," said Cristy, "and it has been a big help to have someone
watching Nickleby from the inside. He is a great, little actor, that
boy, and has succeeded in fooling our friend, Nickleby, into the belief
that all he has to do is to snap his fingers and the frightened Jimmy
will perform his bidding without question. Daddy told you about
Stiles' early indiscretion, you said. Well, Jimmy has been pretending
right along that he is afraid of exposure for that, and Nickleby has
felt so sure of him that there have been occasions when he has
permitted Jimmy to see behind the scenes and get a peek at some methods
of doing business that would not stand analysis."
"Have you tried to get a line on Nickleby's past, Miss Lawson?" asked
Phil with interest. "I understand that he was less than nobody when
your father befriended him, and he may have drifted up here from the
States and have a police record a yard long."
"We've thought of that. There is nothing in the local police records,
but I believe Mr. Wade is making some quiet investigations in the
States.
"Well, anyway, to make a long story short, Stiles knew the Alderson
Construction Company was planning to make a substantial contribution to
the Government campaign-fund--J. C. Nickleby, that is; for he really is
the Alderson Construction Company. When Jimmy reported this to me I
thought I saw a good chance to get some sensational illustrations for
the exposure story the _Recorder_ was after if only we could get hold
of the money long enough to photograph it. Jimmy was enthusiastic over
the idea and told me to leave it to him. On thinking it over more
carefully, though, I saw risks attached to the stunt which made it very
unwise, and when I met Jimmy by his own appointment at the Union
Station one night I asked him at once to make no attempt to obtain
possession of the money, even for a short time.
"But I was too late. He was carrying a suitcase and calmly informed me
that the money was inside. I was badly frightened. If we were caught
with that money in our possession we would be arrested at once as a
pair of ordinary thieves. I had jeopardized my editor's plans that we
had been working out so secretly and regretted the foolishness a
thousand times. Stiles wanted me to take the suitcase then and
there--take it home and do the photographing, then have a messenger
deliver it to Ferguson's office; or, if I preferred to give it back to
him, he'd arrange to get the money to its destination somehow without
anybody being able to trace it.
"But I was too frightened to decide and it was not long before I felt
that we were being watched. You cannot imagine a more disagreeable
feeling! We strolled around a bit to make sure that we really were
being followed and when we found that the man we suspected was still on
our trail, Jimmy was as badly scared as I was.
"While we were wondering what we'd better do I suddenly spied President
Wade standing near the door of the big rotunda waiting-room and I had
hard work to keep from calling out. I said good-bye to Jimmy, and
walked over to him with the suitcase, blessing my stars for the good
fortune. His private car was standing down on the track and as soon as
he saw that I was in trouble of some kind he took me down to the car
and I told him the whole story. There was nobody around except
ourselves at the moment and he was not only greatly interested, but
agreed to help me. We lifted out the envelope of money and he placed
this in his safe aboard the car. He would not tell me what he intended
to do with it, except that he promised it should be photographed for me
and that it would be taken care of. He told me to ask no questions,
but just leave everything to him and forget all about it. The less I
knew about it the better, in case I was questioned.
"He had asked me a short time before if I thought I could obtain a
place as a stenographer or office clerk of some kind in Ferguson's
office for a few weeks and it had been agreed that I would try and, if
I succeeded, I was to sit tight and keep my eyes and ears open. I have
wondered how much of what happened he was half anticipating; he was so
matter-of-fact. He escorted me out to a taxi and I went home while he
sent a porter down to the parcel-room to check the empty suitcase. It
may be there yet for all I know.
"You see now why I was so worried to learn that an envelope had been
stolen from Mr. Wade's private car by Podmore and hidden up here at
Thorlakson. I naturally jumped to the conclusion that it was the
actual money that had been stolen. I should have known better, because
Mr. Wade had asked me to have Stiles secure for him an envelope from
the construction company's office, similar to the one containing the
money. To tell you the truth, I had forgotten all about this and it
did not occur to me that the envelope in the stump was a decoy. I see
now, though, that Mr. Wade had plans of his own all the time."
"You're right as to that, Miss Lawson. This game is bigger than we
think," said Kendrick thoughtfully. "One thing we may be sure of, Ben
Wade can be trusted to act wisely. What you've just told me has
interested me tremendously. Will you tell me something more? How
under the sun did Stiles manage to turn the trick--get possession of
that fifty thousand without getting caught?"
"It was cleverly done," laughed Cristy, "but like most clever things of
that kind, it was as simple as A. B. C. Jimmy laid his plans carefully
and the chief danger to threaten his success was that he would not be
selected as the messenger between his own office and Ferguson's. He
knew that the chances were he would be watched all the way by a
detective; so he planned to make his substitution before leaving the
building in which the Alderson company has its office.
"He had been keeping a close watch on Podmore for some days, for he did
not trust him and felt sure that he would not hesitate to play false to
Nickleby and Alderson whom he had been cultivating so carefully of
late. Jimmy is shrewd. His patience was rewarded one day by the sight
of Podmore in a leather-goods store around the corner, purchasing two
satchels which were identical in size, shape and color. Stiles had the
clerk lay aside a third satchel which was the mate of the two Podmore
had just bought. When one of the satchels was delivered at the office
from Podmore, Jimmy knew he had guessed right. Just how Podmore was
proposing to change the satchels worried Jimmy quite a bit until he
began to suspect a new arrival in town by the name of Clayton. He
found out that Podmore and this Clayton were meeting in Podmore's room
at different times, but ignoring each other as utter strangers in the
hotel rotunda. Then when Clayton turned up quite casually at All
Saints' Mission--the church Jimmy attends, you know--and began to
ingratiate himself, Stiles thought he saw daylight. It turned out that
he was right, too, in suspecting that Clayton was Podmore's accomplice.
"It fitted in fine with Jimmy's own plan. When he came out of the
office with that tan satchel, which contained the money, his kid
brother--Bertie--was sitting on the bottom step of the stairway on the
same floor, watching the door. As soon as he saw Jimmy come out, the
kid ran upstairs to the next floor, picked up the satchel Jimmy had
bought and in which he had placed some old newspapers, and took the
elevator down. Jimmy got into the same elevator and they transferred
the satchels going down to the street. So, you see, when Stiles walked
out onto the street he was carrying the satchel that had the old
newspapers inside, while young Bertie just stayed in the elevator, went
up a few floors and calmly walked down the back stairs and so on home
where he chucked satchel, fifty thousand dollars and all, under Jimmy's
bed."
"By George!" chuckled Kendrick.
"Jimmy was able to laugh up his sleeve all the way through. I told you
he was clever. Sure enough, he found Clayton lying in wait for him at
the Jessup Grill which Stiles would have to pass. He almost laughed in
that professional con man's face when he was invited inside for a drink
and he proved an easy victim when Clayton switched the satchels on him.
Jimmy saw that Clayton had spotted the detective who was trailing along
and was on his guard. With that danger over, he knew everything was
safe; for Podmore could not afford to do anything else but keep quiet
even after he discovered that with all his slickness somebody had
beaten him out. There wasn't a shred of evidence to implicate Jimmy,
you see."
"He tells me they're watching him down at the office pretty closely,
though," said Kendrick when she paused for breath.
"That's to be expected, of course. Those two men who attacked us in
the park were private detectives in Nickleby's pay and they probably
thought Jimmy was passing something on to me and it was time to search
both of us. Nickleby and the others have kept close mouths about the
theft of the election money because they didn't want any investigation
by the regular police. I am inclined to think they planned their
election contribution for a definite purpose and could not afford any
publicity about it."
"They must be a fine bunch of crooks, that outfit!" remarked Kendrick.
"The fellow who was watching Jimmy and me at the station that night was
probably acting on his own initiative. It was the same detective who
had made such a bungle of following Jimmy in the afternoon and I guess
it nearly cost him his job. He must have been feeling pretty well
worked up at the way things turned out. If it hadn't been for Mr.
Wade's timely arrival there's no telling what might have happened.
Can--can we--sit down for a little rest?" she gasped.
Phil glanced at her quickly, apologizing for his thoughtlessness. He
had been so absorbed in her recital that he had forgotten the strain
under which she was laboring with the pain in her foot. They must have
covered a lot of ground while they talked. Five miles to Thorlakson's,
he had told her, but it might just as easily be eight or ten.
After a short rest they went on. They passed through rock cuttings
where their voices and the sound of their feet flung back hollowly from
the walls. They rounded curves, looking eagerly for some sign of
habitation, only to be met by the same stretch of deserted track
leading off into nebulous gloom. Or perhaps they would see a dim white
speck ahead or the black outlines of a rocky spur where the track
disappeared and they would comfort themselves with the thought that
around that particular curve or beyond that mile-post they would see
buildings. But when they had hobbled down the track and gained the
goal there were always more rocky spurs and more track to hobble over.
They talked of many things. Phil told her all about McCorquodale.
They discussed politics and the Rives case and newspaper work and
universities and music and the latest books. As the hours crept by
their laughter and talk lessened and the spaces of silence between them
grew longer. The girl was limping badly and leaning more heavily upon
him, and for him the adventure grew more serious in his concern for her
welfare.
"Aren't we nearly there, Mr. Kendrick?" she asked quietly after a long
period of silence on her part.
"We must be," he answered cheerfully and held his watch close to his
nose as he scrutinized the dial in the moonlight. "It's nearly four
o'clock. I fancy the moon is a little paler than it was," he added,
craning his neck to look at it riding high above them, "and the sky
back there behind that hill--it looks lighter, too, don't you think?
Daylight can't be far off now, as it comes pretty early up here and
we're bound to reach the Thorlakson shanty soon, Miss Lawson."
They trudged on again while he told her about Mrs. Thorlakson, the
good-hearted Icelandic woman, and the giant Swede section-hand,
Svenson, who was a friendly sort of elephant. He tried to entertain
her with a humorous account of his surveying experiences, information
about the country and funny stories that he had picked up here and
there. Occasionally they heard small animals scurrying away in the
underbrush on either side as they passed by; but she had ceased to take
notice of such sounds.
"I might carry you for a while, if you'd let me," he offered at last in
what he hoped was a matter-of-fact tone. But she would not hear of
that.
Dawn was coming quickly. The night gloom fled off the tops of the
ridges and sought brief respite in the shelter of the water bottoms.
The gray sky warmed to rose tints. New bird notes came twittering from
the bushes on all sides, while frisky cotton-tails scampered ahead of
them on the roadbed. The air seemed to take on a freshness that it had
lacked before, laden with sweet scents of wild grasses, perfume of
spruce and the aromatic smell of the wood mould. A wave of light crept
across the hills, stole round about and it was day.
They came slowly around a long curve and when the track straightened
out again Phil gave a whoop of satisfaction.
"Hallelujah! Miss Lawson, there's a light!" He pointed to where a
yellow dot shone steadily, close to the track.
But the girl did not reply. She swayed a moment, then went limp in his
arms.