Officer 666 Part 50

Mrs. Burton looked from one to the other in complete bewilderment.

Helen could only blush and look confused. The immensity of Gladwin's lie struck her dumb. Sadie was staring at him in open-mouthed amazement. Even Whitney Barnes blinked his eyes and forgot his handcuffs.

Travers Gladwin met Mrs. Burton's frowning and perplexed stare with a fatuous smile. At last she turned to Whitney Barnes and asked:

"Is he telling the truth?"

[Ill.u.s.tration: "HE'S ALMOST AS MADLY IN LOVE WITH HER AS I AM."]

"Oh, yes," said Barnes, readily, "and if it hadn't been for me he might have kidnapped her. He's almost as madly in love with her as I am--you will have to excuse me a moment, I think I see that man Ryan."

The shackled young man suddenly darted out of the room, followed by Sadie, who seemed irresistibly drawn in his wake.

Mrs. Burton looked after them helplessly. A suspicion suddenly flashed in her brain and she turned back to Gladwin.

"I feel sure that you are deceiving me," she charged him, "and that that other young man is Travers Gladwin. You can't tell me that his wrists were not handcuffed, for I just saw them."

"You are entirely mistaken," Gladwin returned soberly. "If you will kindly step out into the music room I will show you a modest portrait of myself that was painted three years ago by an eminent American artist. Helen you will pardon us for just a moment," and he turned with a broad smile that won him a smile in return, for the humor of the situation had gradually beaten down whatever other emotions stirred in the girl's breast.

Like one reluctantly led in a dream, Mrs. Burton allowed Gladwin to escort her into the music room outside and conduct her to a painting that hung in an obscure corner of the room.

"Do you think it flatters me?" he asked, as she regarded it dumbly.

She looked at him curiously and then back at the portrait, then shook her head and muttered:

"There's a mystery here somewhere. You are all banded together in a conspiracy. I do not know whom to believe. But it has gone far enough.

We will go back to Omaha to-morrow. I had no idea New York was such a terrible place. Why are all these policemen running about?"

"Mainly in your interest," responded Gladwin quickly, "but if you will consent not to send me to jail I will get them out of the house and keep the unhappy termination of my romance out of the newspapers."

"Of course, it must not get in the newspapers," cried the horrified Mrs. Burton.

"Then, madam, if you will go back to Helen and promise not to be too hard with her I will attend to it."

"Was your father's name Edwin Gladwin?" asked Mrs. Burton, looking at him with a swift change of expression as he led her back to the room he called his den.

"Yes," said the young man, "but if you will excuse me I will endeavor to get rid of all these policemen."

He suddenly darted from her and descended the stairs.

CHAPTER XLI.

THE ESCAPE.

While he had not the slightest notion where the picture expert had managed to conceal himself during his own enforced absence from the scene of the chase, Travers Gladwin was confident that the man was capable of outwitting an army of the sort of man-hunters who were swarming within and without the aristocratic premises.

When he caught sight of Whitney Barnes and Sadie in a tender confab that was just about to frond out into the full foliage of a romantic climax, it was on his tongue to bid them carry their hearts upstairs and string them together in a more secluded spot. They beat him to his own suggestion, and were gone before he could utter a syllable.

He had the great drawing room and picture gallery to himself and was scanning every corner of it when a voice punctuated the silence.

"Ah, Mr. Gladwin!"

The young man turned quickly and saw what he at first mistook for a uniformed constable emerge from the portieres that screened the window.

"Well, if it isn't"--he began in gaping surprise.

"Murphy, sorr, only a tighter fit." Wilson stepped through the curtains twirling his club.

"So you are 666 now, eh?" Gladwin blurted. "And Phelan"----

"The gentleman who belongs in this tight-fitting frock? Oh, he's still about."

"And you managed to bribe him?"

"Not exactly that, Mr. Gladwin--say I persuaded him."

"My hat is off to you again," exclaimed the young man, "but don't waste any time. You can get away easily in that uniform--quick, and good luck."

"I never hurry in these cases," returned the thief, with an air of calm indifference. "You see, I have an idea that the Captain and Kearney are waiting for me at the front door, for they made a loud declaration that they were going to search the cellar. I have had similar experiences, my young friend."

"But they won't leave the front door, and they may burst in here at any moment," protested Gladwin.

"But they will leave the front door when I want them to," said the other, softly.

"By jove, you're a wonderful chap!"

"I've got to be to keep out of jail."

"It's a shame that you misdirect your energies and genius," said the young man, earnestly.

"But you must acknowledge that I work hard for what I get."

"Yes, I do."

"And I really love pictures."

"For themselves?"

"H'm, yes--for themselves."

Travers Gladwin stood frowning at the floor for a moment, then looked up quickly.

"See here, then--you've worked mighty hard for my pictures and I'm going to give you a few of the best of them. Here!" And Gladwin stepped over to the corner of the room where the trunk had been dropped and picked up a bundle of canvases.

The picture expert wore a broad grin as the young man came toward him.