The Deaves Affair Part 18

"Ah!" said Ha.s.sell with ironical eyebrows.

"I will tell her about them."

"Thank you," said Ha.s.sell, bowing them out.

George Deaves didn't say much on the way home, but Evan was aware that his att.i.tude had changed. There were no more accusations. Clearly Deaves had been impressed by the fact that the interview with Ha.s.sell had turned out exactly as Evan had foretold.

Simeon Deaves was still shuffling around the library in his slippers.

"Well?" he demanded.

His son briefly told him what had occurred.

The old man was in a very bad temper. "Yah! let him pull wool over your eyes!" he cried. "All a pack of thieves together! Artists never have any money! And this one knows more than he lets on. He's too smart by half! You mark my words!"

"Please go outside," the much-tried George said to Evan. "Wait in the hall."

Evan obeyed with a shrug. Outside the softly-stepping Alfred was loitering suspiciously. He approached Evan.

"Something doing to-day, eh?" he said with his obsequious-impudent leer. "Where did you two go?"

Evan's gorge rose at the man. He saw nothing to be gained now by hiding his feelings. "You d.a.m.n sneak!" he said quietly. "Keep away from me, or I'll hurt you!"

Alfred, with a scared and venomous look, slunk down-stairs. Evan felt better.

Presently George Deaves called him back into the library. At what had taken place between father and son he could only guess. The old man's att.i.tude had changed; he was disposed to be friendly. Divided between their fears and their suspicions father and son were continually making these face-abouts.

George Deaves said in his pompous way: "My father has re-considered his decision not to employ you further. He will be glad to have you stay according to the original arrangement."

"That's right," added the old man. "I just spoke a little hasty. I always said you were a good boy."

Evan's face hardened. "I'm not sure that I want the job," he said.

"Forty dollars a week's a fine salary," said Simeon Deaves.

"I'll stay for fifty," said Evan coolly.

They both gasped. "Are you trying to hold us up?" cried George Deaves.

"If that's what you want to call it," said Evan. "You force me to. If I appear anxious for the job, you will soon be accusing me again of being in the gang. As a matter of fact I don't care whether I stay or not."

"Well, I'll pay it," said George Deaves with a sour face, "provided you'll agree to investigate the list Ha.s.sell gave us in your spare time."

"I'll do it," said Evan. "I'm interested. You'd better discharge Alfred who is certainly a spy, and get a detective in his place to keep a watch on the other servants."

"Those fellows cost ten dollars a day!" cried Simeon Deaves.

"The blackmailers are getting five thousand out of you every fortnight," retorted Evan.

"I do not see the necessity for a detective," said George Deaves loftily. "As long as I'm paying you all this money. You can look out for that side of the case as well."

"Just as you like," said Evan smiling. It was hopeless to try to argue with these people.

Alfred entered, and giving Evan a wide berth laid a long envelope on George Deaves' desk. "Brought by messenger," he said. "No answer."

He left the room.

Deaves paled as his eyes fell on the superscription.

"The same handwriting!" he murmured.

He nervously tore open the envelope. It contained some typewritten sheets, and a slip with writing upon it. George Deaves read the letter with a perplexed expression, and handed it over to Evan.

"What do you make of that?" he asked.

Evan read: "Received of George Deaves the sum of five thousand dollars in full payment of the story ent.i.tled: 'Simeon Deaves Goes Shopping,'

including all rights. All existing copies of the ma.n.u.script enclosed.

Many thanks. The Ikunahkatsi."

"Same old impudence!" said Evan smiling grimly. "This crook is something of a character it seems. Affects a kind of honesty in his dealings."

"Oh, he's kept a copy of the story," said George Deaves.

"Possibly. But why should he go to the trouble of making believe that he has not?--and send a receipt? Criminal psychology is queer. This is something out of the common that we are up against!"

CHAPTER IX

THE COMPACT IS SMASHED

Evan spent the afternoon walking about with Simeon Deaves. The old man was an indefatigable pedestrian. He had no object in his wanderings, but loved to poke into the oddest and most out-of-the-way corners of the town. They were not followed to-day so far as Evan could tell. At first Simeon Deaves was uneasy and suspicious of his body-guard, but finding that Evan took everything calmly for granted, he unbent and became loquacious. All his talk was on the same subject: how to get along in the world, i.e. how to make money.

Evan having taken him home at last, sank into the seat of a bus with relief. "Anyhow it will be good for my health," he thought.

Before going home he called at the studio of a friend, a member of the Barbizon Club, and without taking him entirely into his confidence, enlisted his aid in investigating the actions and habits of the men on Ha.s.sell's list. It may be said here, that nothing came of this.

Evan and Charley met for the evening meal. The irrepressible Charley was still singing about the red-haired girl. In spite of his boasts it appeared that his advances had consistently been turned down. Evan took a little comfort from this. Sullenness was unknown to the gay Charley and he was not a whit less optimistic because of his set-backs.

"You don't want a girl to be too come-on-ish," he said. "A highty-tighty manner adds zest to the game. They don't expect to be taken seriously when they turn you down, bless your heart, no. Why, if I let that girl drop now, she'd despise me for my faintheartedness.

Sure, and be as disappointed as anything!"

Evan was not in much of a humour to laugh at him. Indeed he foresaw that an impossible situation would presently develop between Charley and him unless he said something. With an elaborately casual manner he began at last:

"I say, Charl, you and I have always played fair with each other."

"Well I should rather fahncy, as Lord Percy said. What's on your chest, boy? Unload! Unload!"

"It's only fair to tell you that I have become acquainted with the young lady in question."