The Man Without a Memory Part 31

"Just as you like. I can deal with him, of course." I heard him swear sulphurously.

"What does he want?" he growled after a pause.

"To keep out of gaol, chiefly, I fancy."

"Oh, blazes! Can't you speak plainly?"

"Yes. You see that second little practical joke you fixed up for me to-day has missed fire; he's had a crack on the head from one of your mutual friends, and I've got him here. After what he told me I rang you up to know what you'd like to do about it. As you and I are such pals, it didn't seem quite friendly to give him in charge without letting you have a chance to tell me your side. See?"

"I tell you I don't know anything about it;" angrily with an oath.

"No thoroughfare that way, my beloved."

There was no reply; he had apparently rung off. So I used the opportunity to impress friend Rudolff and lead him to understand that von Erstein had told me everything, and then hung up the receiver, paused a moment, and again pretended to call up the police station.

This was too much for the man. "What are you going to do?" he asked.

"My friend tells me that he had nothing to do with it, knows nothing about you, and that I'd better hand you over to the police."

"Who were you talking to?"

"Count von Erstein."

"Then he's a liar," he cried furiously. "He sent me here this morning so that I should know you by sight, first for that business in the Thiergarten this afternoon and then for this affair now."

"Don't tell me such lies, you murderous brute. Why, not ten minutes ago you gave me another name. Von Erstein, indeed, my friend!"

"Friend! He's no friend of yours. He's got me under his thumb for another thing and drove me to do both jobs by threatening to split on me. I can't get into the hands of the police. If you'll let me go I'll tell you all I know about it."

I shook my head and played the unbeliever till he was nearly beside himself with fright, and then told him to write down the story. This wasn't to his liking at all, but a little gentle persuasion in the shape of another pretence, with the 'phone, set him to work.

I walked up and down smoking while he wrote, glancing every now and then over his shoulder to read the result. He was not a ready penman, but he got the main facts clear enough for my purpose.

His statement was practically what he had already told me, and he added some very useful details which would help to fix it on von Erstein. But in one respect it fell short of expectation. He knew no more about Anna Hilden than his employer had told him--that I had really ruined her and that she was looking for me.

Whether he was lying or not, there were no means of deciding, and it seemed better not to question him too directly. The whole affair had shaken him up a good deal, and when he laid down the pen with a sigh he begged for another drink.

I let him have it and he gulped it down at a draught. "What are you going to do with that?" he asked, pointing to the statement.

"That wasn't in the bargain, friend cutthroat; but I'll promise you one thing, as you've seen wisdom. If I have to use it, I'll see that no harm comes to you, provided that you're ready to speak to the truth of it."

He shook his head dismally over this, and while he was hesitating, there was a nervous knock at my outer door. It flashed into my thoughts that it might be Anna Hilden. I didn't want them to meet, so I shut the room door behind me as I went out.

It was a very wild shot indeed; for the moment I pulled back the latch, the door was pushed wide and von Erstein came swaggering in.

CHAPTER XVI

A POISON CHARGE

"Where's the fellow you called Rudolff?" he demanded truculently.

My first idea was to shove him out, but it struck me that an interview between the two men might have interesting results, so I went back to the sitting-room. "Your friend's still here," I said.

Rudolff wilted at the sight of his genial employer, and as they were now two to one, both scoundrels, and capable of any violence, it was best to take precautions. Thus while von Erstein was challenging the other man to say he knew him, I crossed to a small table drawer and put my revolver in my pocket, keeping my hand on it in case of necessity.

The instant Rudolff knew that I had tricked him out of the confession he was nearly as mad as von Erstein. He couldn't well have been madder.

"A bit late, eh, beloved?" I jeered. "Had to wait for a taxi? They are rather scarce just now."

"What has this man written?"

"Just a line or two about the weather and so on."

"Let me see it."

"He can tell you, of course."

"I have a right to see it."

"Naturally. You'll see it all right--some day. What he says about atmospheric and other kinds of pressure is----"

Oaths from the two interrupted the sentence.

"Give it up," from Rudolff, and "I want to see it now," from von Erstein, came almost in the same breath.

"It pains me to disappoint such a charming pair of friends, but----" I shook my head. "Can't be done, beloved; out of the question."

"We'll see about that;" and they exchanged glances.

"Don't make a.s.ses of yourselves. One of you has a cracked pate already, and the other's so podgy that half a punch would put him out of action; so you wouldn't have a dog's chance at what I see you're thinking about."

"What do you mean, La.s.sen? I'm only asking to see what this man has written about me," said von Erstein, trying to fool me with an appearance of calmness, while he took his handkerchief out of the pocket of his overcoat--a suspiciously bulky handkerchief which he handled very gingerly.

"You may as well lay that thing on the table, beloved. I'm too old for that game."

He tried to laugh and suddenly grabbed the handkerchief with his left hand to free the revolver it was concealing. He bungled over it, and before he succeeded I had him covered. "I told you to put it on the table. If you lift it so much as an inch, I'll put a bullet in your head," I cried.

What a coward he was! He went as white as a sheet, tossed the weapon on to the table, and put up his hands as a shield. "Don't, La.s.sen. Don't do anything like that," he stammered.

I laughed, picked up his revolver, and tossed mine across to him.

"That's less dangerous for you, sweetheart; it's unloaded."

Still trembling, now with more mortification than fear, however, he dropped into a chair and strafed me with fine Teutonic hate.