The Mansion of Mystery Part 12

"Hi! what's this, a hold-up?" cried the man, evidently frightened.

"Let go of me!" And he tried to pull away and then attempted to draw a revolver from a hip pocket.

"Stop! I am not going to hurt you," was the calm reply from the detective. "I want to talk to you, that's all."

"Really?" came with a sneer. "A fine time of night to hold a man up.

Be quick, for I am in a hurry."

"I want you to explain several things to me," went on Adam Adams calmly.

"Explain? To you?"

"That is what I said. You can take your choice. Either explain or consider yourself under arrest."

"Eh? Say, are you crazy?"

"Not at all."

"An officer of the law, I suppose."

"I am--in a way."

"Working on this Langmore affair?"

"Yes."

"Have you been following me?"

"I've done more than that--I've been watching you."

"What! How long?"

"Quite a long while. I saw you in the library, twice, and down to the brook."

The man started and was evidently much put out. Then he forced a smile to his face.

"Much obliged for playing the spy," he murmured.

"Down at the brook you had a pair of Miss Langmore's shoes. What were you doing with them?"

"Did you see me with the shoes?"

"I did, and I saw you with the silk shirtwaist."

"Ah! Anything else?"

"I saw you at the safe in the library of the mansion."

"When, now?"

"Now and some hours ago. You may as well make a clean breast of it."

"I will, If you will tell me who you are."

"I am Adam Adams, of New York City."

The strange man let out a hissing sound between his teeth. Then of a sudden he gave a wild, unnatural laugh.

"Shake hands, Mr. Adams," he said, putting out his hand. "I know you by reputation even if not personally. You see, your reputation is so much larger than my own." He laughed again, a sound which grated on the detective's nerves. "I am John S. Watkins, of Bryport. I am connected with the United States secret service."

CHAPTER VIII

WHAT CEPHAS CARBOY SAW

There was a brief pause after the man from Bryport made his announcement. Adam Adams tried hard to see his face clearly, but in the gloom this was impossible.

"Perhaps you do not believe me," said John Watkins. "I can easily prove what I say."

"Why shouldn't I believe you?"

"Because you were on the point of arresting me, which proves that you took me to be--something else."

"How long have you been connected with the secret service?"

"About three years. That is why I know you so well."

"Did your work as a secret service man bring you to this place?"

"Excuse me, but that is my business. If you are working on this case, well and good. But it is not fair to try to steal any of my thunder."

"So far as I am concerned you shall get full credit for what you may do on this case, Mr. Watkins," said Adam Adams stiffly. "But I should like to understand several points."

"About the shoes and the shirtwaist, I suppose. I got the shoes from the house to make certain that some footprints on the bank of the brook had been made by Miss Langmore."

"What about the shirtwaist?"

"It was there when I came, and I left it there, as it did not seem to have much of a connection with the affair."

"Do you think you had a right to tamper with the safe in the library?"

"Considering certain circ.u.mstances, which I do not intend just now to disclose to you, I think I had a right."

"Did you take anything from the safe?"

"Not a thing. In fact, I couldn't get the safe open. You must know this, if you saw me a while ago."