Officer 666 Part 19

The slamming of the front door of the Gladwin mansion struck upon the two young men as a numbing shock. They stood looking at each other with eyes that saw not and with expressions of idiotic vacancy.

Within the span of a brief half hour they had been swept along on a rushing tide of emotions. They had been thrilled and mystified, mystified and thrilled. Nor was there any relief in the reaction.

There was more mystery and more thrill ahead that demanded immediate action.

Naturally the bulk of the thrill was heaped upon Travers Gladwin. He was not only fiercely convinced that he had fallen desperately in love, but the unknown beauty who had kindled this pa.s.sion had revealed that she was coming that night to his home to meet and elope with a villain and an impostor.

Here was a situation to scatter the wits of a Napoleon! It was no wonder that for a few moments his thoughts flattened themselves against an impa.s.sable barrier. Whitney Barnes was the first to revive and speak.

"Now what do you think of that?" he drew out with a long breath.

"I haven't begun to think yet," Gladwin managed to stammer. "I'm in no condition to think. I'm stunned."

"And you've travelled all over the universe in search of a thrill, eh?

Now you've got one you don't know what to do with it."

While Gladwin was groping for a reply to this thrust Bateato breezed in with a swift sidelong rush, carrying a bulging portmanteau.

"Bag all packed, sair," announced the little j.a.p, standing at attention.

"Take it back. I'm not going now," said Gladwin, gruffly. Bateato's entrance had nipped another idea in the bud.

"You no go?" said the j.a.p, in surprise.

"No go--take back--unpack."

"Ees, sair; 'scuse me," and Bateato started off with his usual noiseless rush.

"Hold on," Gladwin checked him. "Wait a minute. Don't unpack it. Leave it in the hall. I may want it at a minute's notice."

"Ees, sair," and the wondering valet steamed out into the hallway and vanished.

"What are you going to do now?" asked Barnes, lighting a cigarette and offering one to his friend.

Gladwin took a turn about the room, puffing nervously at the cigarette. Coming to a sudden stop he faced Barnes and reeled off in a quick volley:

"I'm going to marry that girl! I've been all over the world, seen all kinds of 'em, and right here in my own house I find the one--the only one, on the verge of eloping with a bogus me. But I'm going to expose that man whoever he is--I'm going to rescue her from him."

"For yourself?"

"Yes, for myself, and I'm going to put him where he can never annoy her any more."

"How the deuce are you going to do all this?" asked Barnes, planking himself down into a chair.

"I don't know," said the other, "but I'm going to move the whole Western Hemisphere to do it, if necessary."

"Rather a large contract," drawled Barnes. "But I say, Travers, if that fellow is going to steal your pictures it sort of sizes up as a case for the police."

"Of course," agreed Gladwin. "I was just thinking of that. Where's that man of mine? Bateato! Bateato!"

Bateato responded with the swift obedience of a jinn rising from a miraculous bottle.

"Ees, sair," and the little son of Nippon stood stiffly at attention.

"Ladies run off in autbile," he volunteered as his master hesitated.

"Never mind that--I want you to find a policeman," commanded Gladwin.

"Pleesman--where I find him?" asked Bateato in alarm, recalling his uncomfortable experience with Officer 666.

"Try a saloon," said Gladwin. "And when you've found him, bring him here quick!"

"Ladies steal something?" ventured the j.a.p, starting for the door.

"Autbile go fast like winds."

"Some one is going to try and steal something," replied the young man.

"We must see that they don't. Hurry, now!"

"Ees, sair. 'Scuse me," and Bateato vanished.

"That's the way to do it," Barnes enthused, rubbing his hands. "Get a policeman in here, and when the other Mr. Gladwin shows up nab him.

Then this marriage can't come off without the aid of a prison chaplain."

The excitement that for an instant had transfigured Travers Gladwin suddenly left him. A look of dismay spread over his features.

"By Jove, Barnes!" he cried. "We can't do this!"

"Why not?" asked Barnes.

"Why? Because it would make a tremendous scandal. I'm not going to have my future wife mixed up in any public hoorah for the newspapers.

Think of it--her name in the papers coupled with the name of a crook!

Her picture on one side and a Rogues' Gallery photograph on the other.

Impossible! The police must know nothing about it."

"I don't follow you," said Barnes. "What are you going to do--kill him and stuff him in that chest? He probably deserves it, but it would he an awfully unpleasant thing to have around the house."

"Shut up! Let me think," cut in Gladwin.

Then he added with swift inspiration: "Now I've got it. I'll wait outside for her to come and warn her of her danger. You stay in here and be on the lookout for the man."

Whitney Barnes threw up his hands and e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed:

"Good night!" He made as if to start for the door.

"No, no, Whitney," cried Gladwin, "we must see this thing through together. You wouldn't want this sweet, young, innocent girl connected with a sensational robbery, would you?"

"No," Barnes agreed soberly; "neither would I want any robber's bullets connected with me."

"You're a coward!" blurted Gladwin, hotly.

"You bet I am," acquiesced Barnes, "and I'm alive to tell it. Likewise I may have some marriage plans of my own. But keep your hair on, Travers. Let us do some real thinking, unaccustomed as we are to it, and see if we cannot devise some safer plan."